Tumgik
#i think it is harder for adults to get into it for the first time bc there's a huge nostalgia around it and just bc of the naughties of it
On the language debate, I personally headcanon that the main language spoken at NRC is a common one. (?) (Like how English is the business language, or like how generally Native Americans had a common language that they spoke when trading with other tribes.) And Crowley or the Mirror used magic so that You was temporary fluent in that language.
After the ceremony, Yuu has to learn the common language and picks it up really fast (as one would in such a situation). Therefore, Yuu can still speak it when away from NRC.
(I also headcanon English as an ancient language akin to Latin, because I heard that Arabic was canonically an ancient language.)
[Referencing this post!]
Tumblr media
I’d buy that everyone at NRC speaks the common language to some level of proficiency; it’s like how international students typically need to speak the language of whichever country they hope to study in and need to prove their fluency in an exam beforehand. As I said in the original post, the light novel does mention a translation spell over the school, so maybe that’s part of the “magic” that helps Yuu to understand what the others are saying.
Now, it’s theoretically possible for Yuu to learn the common language of Twisted Wonderland in a year, but I don’t think immersion alone would cut it (especially since the main story is only up to like 2/4 to 3/4 of a year so far) . They’d probably have to put in significant effort outside of everyday conversations to pick up its rules (because remember that language isn’t just vocabulary but also grammar, syntax, and social conventions). Yuu would also need consistent feedback from people since that’s how one usually “fixes” their incorrect language use. It’s similar to how adults would correct a child learning their first language; ie a kid says “wadur” instead of “water”.)
One site I looked at suggested that, depending on the language categorization (I, II, III, of IV), it can take 24-92 weeks’ worth of time to become an “advanced” speaker. Realistically, just getting to the basic conversational level could be hundreds or thousands (700-2500+) of hours on its own—and Yuu has to do this on their own time between homework, going to classes, and managing all the issues that Crowley doesn’t 💀 To me, that doesn’t sound like a lot of free time. Counterpoint to my own point though, we also have to consider that Yuu is... well, technically Yuu can be any age you want, but most Yuus are implied or portrayed to be 16-18. The critical window for language acquisition is theorized to be anywhere from the first three years of life up to as late as 17-18 years. After this critical window, the ability for language development tapers off. So, thinking about that, Yuu's brain could still be very pliable and able to absorb new language (though they'd have to work quite intensely to pack in as much as they can before this ability starts to decline).
Something that I feel would be difficult for Yuu is that the characters often use slang (Cater, Floyd, Idia, etc.) and/or uncommon words (like Vil’s “pulchritude”). The former may not follow the standardized rules of a language or may be idioms (other non-literal meanings for common words), which could make it hard for a non-native speaker to understand. The latter would not be used that often, so Yuu would be forced to guesstimate what the word means. I’d imagine this would make fluency challenging, because as immersed as Yuu is in Twisted Wonderland, less frequently used words are harder to grasp.
Maybe Crowley cast a translation spell ON Yuu so that they can still converse with people in the common tongue whenever they leave NRC? Or, since the events basically occur in an AU, more than a year has passed so it has allowed Yuu more time to absorb the language. Language in TWST and how it works… It’s really interesting to think about!
62 notes · View notes
gh0stsp1d3r · 10 hours
Text
ℳ𝒶𝓎𝒷𝒶𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇
Chapter 6- just like your father
Series masterlist
Warnings- once again not too much rafe): I’m trying to get more rafe in the next parts, the readers drunk the whole time basically lol
Tumblr media
“Now a live update from the sheriffs department.”
“Yeah, after six weeks, the five teens that had been missing from Kildare county have returned, been reunited with their families.” Rafe went closer to the tv, sitting down and staring out. “We’re still waiting for details about their journey. But I’m sure they have quite a tale to tell.”
“We also got word that the father of one of the teens, John B Routledge, who’s been presumed dead for a year now, has also returned live and well. Wonders never cease. Right now, we’re just trying to get those kids settled back into school, with their families. They’ve been through a lot.”
“The teens were down in Kildare island with two other Kildare teens, Sarah Cameron and Y/N Maybank.” The sheriff spoke.
Rafes eyes widened at the mention of you and his sister.
“Sarah’s the daughter of disgraced real estate magnate, Ward Cameron, who confessed to the murder of Peterkin two months ago. y/n is the daughter of Luke Maybank, who is also presumed missing after escaping prison.”
Rafe watched as both of your pictures were put on screen, he recognized yours to be one of you you posted to your instagram, you at the beach. He was in the background, he noticed upon looking closer. Then, a picture of your brother, you and your dad.
You looked at the tv screen, scoffing at the picture they put up when they said your dad’s name. A picture of you, JJ and your dad. It was JJ’s first day of school, you remember that day as if it was your own first day of school.
You gripped the can harder, heavily sighing and leaning back in the chair. Yeah, you’d need more than one drink today.
Tumblr media
“When I was there, Rafe was talking about how the cross was his. Not- not Ward’s.” You told them all, hiccuping after and covering your mouth.
“Are you- are you seriously drunk right now?” Pope asked, all of them noticing the way you slurred your words.
“Fuck off. I’m an adult. Can do whatever I want.” You said with a childish giggle.
“It’s like 10 am in the morning.”
“Yo!” Kiara sapped her fingers. “Can we please get back on the topic?”
“Right. And he’s coming into Wilmington tonight at eight. It’s being shipped by train from like… R.. Ra… Raleigh I think? I dunno.”
“You get any other information?” Pope asked.
“Uh, y/n got the cargo number.” Kiara spoke, picking up the paper.
“Okay, well, that’s a start.”
“I mean, they’re definitely fencing that shit off as we speak. So we should probably get a move on.” JJ said, watching you down the rest of the can, and grab a 4th one next to you from your spot on the floor.
“Sarah, you hear from John B?”
“No, I mean, he’s probably off somewhere with his dad. But the problem is they have the Twinkie.”
“Our transportation.”
“I have a car, you know? It’s a hunk of shit, but it works.” You shrugged.
All of them raised their eyebrows at that. “It’s back at Ricky’s. I should probably go talk to him anyways.”
They all were hesitant, you could tell.
“I’m- I’m your only fuckin’ option, so, my car or nothing.”
“She’s right.” JJ told them, already hopping on his bike.
Tumblr media
“Ricky?” You shouted when you opened the door. He wasn’t home, you sighed, taking the keys off the counter and stumbling back outside.
“He not home?” JJ asked, furrowing his eyebrows.
“Nope.” You told him, locking the door. You go into the car, trying to get it started. But it never turns on, you groan in annoyance, fumbling with the keys, and trying again.
“Goddamnit!” You laughed, slamming your fist onto the dashboard and going out.
“It’s… not working.”
“Not working? What’s wrong with it?”
“I don’t know! It’s not fucking starting.” You shrugged.
JJ threw his hands up in defeat.
“Alright. That’s okay. We can.. try my dads.” Pope said.
“And I’ll try to see if my parents will.” Kiara spoke.
Tumblr media
You ended up going with JJ and Kiara to her parents.
“Jesus, Cleo was not wrong. It does look like the White House.” You mumbled when you entered. You drunkenly stumbled up the steps, JJ rolling his eyes and eventually just helping you up once you almost fell.
“We just found out it’s… it’s gonna be in Wilmington tonight.”
“Okay, and the cross is Popes family-“
“Popes family heirloom.” Kiara finished.
“Shit, this house is nice. Think we could just…?” You told JJ, grabbing an expensive bracelet sitting on the counter and pocketing it.
An idea popped into his head when you did that. If they don’t wanna give them the keys, he can take them.
“He’s alive!” Kiara argued. “JJ.” She turned, the cutlery clanking as he put it away guiltily, getting caught messing with it.
“Do rich people really need to use like… fancy everything? Like fancy plates? Is that necessary?” You mumbled, mostly to yourself as you took another sip.
“A little help?”
He put his hand up, counting off his fingers.
“Wards alive in the Carribean. He’s living off the loot he stole from us, and, uh, yeah, he’s flying across to Wilmington.”
“I was-“ you covered your mouth when you hiccuped again. “With them during the whole thingie. Basically I fell into the water…” you imitated water splashing with your hands.
“And it was like ‘ahhh! Now I’m stuck with my ex boyfriend who’s also crazy on an island, ahh!’ And then we went to some vacation home he has, and I saw Ward and he was like ‘sup, y/n. I’m alive.’ And that’s what happened.” You nodded to yourself, all of them staring at you dumbfounded.
“Give me a break, man.” Kiara’s dad spoke.
“Yeah, you’re right. What do I know? Just saw it with my own two eyes.” You shrugged, rolling your eyes and taking another sip from the bottle. “So did Kiara and JJ but, whatever.”
“I’m skeptical, okay? I am skeptical, y/n as in I think it’s all bullshit. And I think you’ve been led astray, Kiara. And you, JJ, Y/N- let’s get this out in the open.”
“Just take it down a bit-“ her mom tried.
“No. Let me tell you something, you need to understand that I do get it.”
“Sure you do.” You and JJ said in unison, you both laughing at that.
“Do you hear me?”
“Sure. Sure.”
“I like you, guys, and I bet you’re fricking fun to hang with, and to ditch school with, go down to the break, and.. drink beer,” he directed that last sentence to you, eyeing the can in your hand.
“because I was once just like you both. I didn’t think that anything mattered, thought I could make up any bullshit story and these stupid kooks would believe it. But then I learned about hard work.”
“Yeah, well, hard work doesn’t get you shit if you’re like us. I mean- shit, compared to me, you have no clue what hard work is like.” You spat, pointing to yourself. He was getting to close to JJ for your comfort.
He narrowed his eyes at you. “And about what really mattered. All I care about, all that I care about is my daughter. That’s it. And all I know is that she was a lot better off before she met you and your friends.” He said, this sentence directed to JJ.
“Dad, I was never better off!” Kiara argued, you looked at JJ, shaking your head when you saw his reaction. You were gonna kill this guy.
“I was miserable.”
“Miserable? No, no. No!” He shouted, turning to you and JJ.
“No, these pogues have ruined my daughter’s life.” He shouted in your face, you stood in front of JJ, trying your best to protect him.
“Didn’t mean any disrespect, Mr. Carrera.” You told him, turning to usher JJ out.
“Y’all have a good day.” JJ spoke, both of you heading to the door.
“Yeah.”
“What are you doing?” Kiara asked.
“Protecting my daughter.”
“Can we please-“
“Wait a second. Everybody says it, they are liars and thief’s!” Her dad shouted.
You and JJ stopped in your tracks.
“They’re just like their father! I mean, one of them is already drunk off their ass!”
The two words neither of you wanted to hear.
You looked at JJ, who held back tears at the words. You held your own back, throwing the rest of the can, looking at it pour onto the hardwood floor.
You grabbed the keys from the tray, you looked around again, shrugging before grabbing a jacket on the coat hanger, as well as some shoes.
“Wanna talk shit, you’re gonna get bit, right?” You mumbled to yourself, shrugging and following JJ down the steps.
Tumblr media
“Is she.. talking with Topper?” Pope asked, all of them turning to you and Topper at the bar.
“He didn’t want me to say anything, but he’s a fucking mess.” Topper said with a laugh, you laughed with him.
“Yeah, well, he was an asshole. So…” you said, taking the shot you ordered.
“Believe me, I know.” He told you,
“Hey, Jayj.”
“What?”
“I bet you Topper has a way to transport the cross.” Pope spoke.
“Actually, Popes right. He does have a rig.”
“No.” Sarah argued.
“Yes.”
“Yes, come on.”
“No, absolutely not.”
“What are we talking about?” You asked them, coming up behind them suddenly.
“Sarah, you already got him whipped anyway, right? So why don’t you just take one for the team?”
“What would John B say?” She said.
“I think John B will completely understand. Think about the circumstances, it’s about treasure.”
“We can handle John B. Just talk to him.”
Tumblr media
“Why do I feel like I’m gonna regret this?” Topper spoke, all of you happy when you saw her hug him.
You ended up falling asleep on the boat. Your eyes shut as they all came up with plans.
You can’t even escape him in your dreams. Because when you fell asleep, a fond memory of the two of you popped up in your mind.
“Shit, slow down.” He laughed, grabbing onto your hand as you ran down, pushing past people and making your way down straight to the floor.
“Can’t believe I let you drag me into this shit.” He said with a laugh when the band came on stage and cheers erupted.
He watched you while you paid close attention to the band. And when your guys song came on, he was told to sing with you, he hesitated but eventually did.
“Got the music in you, baby. Tell me why. You've been locked in here forever. And you just can't say goodbye. Your lips, my lips. Apocalypse.”
You both sung to each other, you staring at him with the most love and adoration he’s ever seen, and him staring at you with the most love anyone’s ever seen him have.
You both leaned in, but before your lips connected…
You woke up, quickly sitting up and groaning, wiping the sleep from your eyes.
“Jesus. Think I drunk too much earlier. I’m going crazy.” You told them, all of them turning to look at you now.
Tumblr media
Taglist
@cassie0sstuff @rafesgiirl @fals3-g0d @tiaamberxx @callsignwidow @saintnourah
25 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
If nothing else Koenma is a Kuwabara stan and I'm right there with him o7 (I need to write the kuwameshi fic that goes with this fr)
#maybe one day i'll write that au i have sitting in my head#ever since the comment he made about making kuwa spirit detective instead ive been thinking about it#like...what if yusuke is still recruited same as canon but like#kuwa was already spirit detective? doing assignments for the guys upstairs and all#and they made yusuke help him after his resurrection instead of going solo#and it's hilarious because they still have the ''rivalry'' set in place so it's like#now i gotta be coworkers with this guy i was in a fist fight with last week?#yusuke is like you can't be serious you want me to fight DEMONS with the guy who cant even beat ME? lmaooo okay#kuwa would be more in tune with his powers atp in this au and super offended like hello#why would i use my reiki on a FELLOW HUMAN CHILD you DICK i can hold my own on my assignments just fine#but he's actually really excited to be able to spend time with yusuke doing something besides getting his ass handed to him#they're both genkai's students (she's endlessly annoyed but they grow on her)#i just think it'd be fun cos like#it'd be harder to exclude kazuma from shit if he's literally been involved in this shit before he even met#kurama and hiei#kuwabara isn't really told about yusuke's resurrection so things go mostly the same up til he's brought back#they're both called to koenma's office and it's the spiderman pointing meme 💀#it's koenma's first time seeing kuwa in person as he usually just sends assignments with botan#yusuke has already seen him cos of the resurrection arc#and koenma is SUCH a fanboy ''kuwabara it's such a pleasure. you know you're my best worker 🥺''#''um urameshi am i seeing things or is that a fuckin baby'' yusuke will NOT stop laughing#it fucks koenma up so bad he makes sure he's in his adult form when he's around kuwa next#cos he wants to be the respected boss but also guy that you can chill with!! he's so cringe#okay yeah i need to write this it's such a fun concept#kuwameshi#yu yu hakusho#kuwabara kazuma#yusuke urameshi#koenma
117 notes · View notes
crownrots · 7 days
Text
Tumblr media
#oc txt.#c: hattie#c: mary ellen#hattie being able to make it back to her own vault just in time to be with her mom in her final moments is 🤕#she’s not the overconfident self assured put together person she was when she left however long ago it was#and her mother isn’t the hyper independent stoic emotionally constipated woman that didn’t even hug her before she left#her mother really did believe that this colony that had supposedly been growing since she was a girl WAS her kids’ only hope at a future#they knew for years that the vault was running out of supplies and falling apart#she was getting older and really didn’t think a future above ground was for her or her husband or the other adults that had grown up there#it was for their kids.#bc the vault wasn’t going to be able to sustain them for much longer#it’s why she pushed her kids so hard and pushed them away even harder#bc it made sending them into that world ‘easier’#she wouldn’t miss them as much and they wouldn’t miss her#sending her twins up there (her first borns) years prior was HELL#and she dreaded the day hattie was old enough to be thrust out there and even debated whether or not she’d even go through with it#so seeing her now … especially in the state hattie is in when she returns#she feels guilty but at the same time proud? because despite it she knows hattie had and HAS what it takes to survive up there#and seeing tj??? she doesn’t know if the twins made it to the colony or whether the colony was even real operating ect ect#so she’d never get to see them with her grandkids if they had any#she at least gets a slice of what could have been if things were different#it’s good that hattie gets to tell her truth of everything#it’s good that hattie gets to reconcile and be the last thing she sees before she passes#it’s all mary ellen ever wanted … to see her girls again#and in her mind if hattie made it … then she knows the other two did too#and i think for hattie she was just on the cusp of giving up and throwing in the towel#but she’s got people relying on her and she’s not a quitter … was never allowed to be#and i think by now she’d be searching for them less for herself and more for her parents#the least she can do is find out if their sacrifices (and the sacrifices of everyone else) were warranted
9 notes · View notes
chronicowboy · 7 months
Note
Hello! So I tried to watch Merlin years ago with my husband, and I think we watched a handful of episodes before deciding it wasn't for us. But still. The show seems beloved by its fans. What aspects do you enjoy most about the show? What makes the pairing of Arthur and Merlin so compelling (particularly to shippers)? =)
i think a lot of it is nostalgia. especially for people my age. we grew up with that show, it was one of the few family shows on mainstream tv that you could just sit down and watch together. and you know i've loved it for long enough that i can admit it's a little cringey sometimes and kiddy often and dated both in the 2008 and medieval way, so a lot of it is the nostalgia of it. but also the deeper into the show you get, it really is a triumph of storytelling. i'm not really a hug fan of retellings but there's just something about taking such an integral myth and stripping away the legend to focus on the humanity at the centre of the stories. it's about the once and future king and his sorcerer forging their story, but more than that it's about how they were just kids with the weight of the world on their shoulders, how each of them thought they were carrying it alone, how much they loved each other. and as for specific aspects of the show, well, it's pretty groundbreaking to me because it's so morally grey. it's a doomed narrative from the very beginning, almost everyone knows how this story ends, but it doesn't stop you hoping and believing and hurting. it's a doomed narrative full of doomed characters all making flawed decisions to try and undoom themselves. it's one man with destiny biting at his heels falling in love with the other side of his coin and ignoring fate. it's kind of a corruption arc where the love becomes so much more important than anything else that merlin ends up denying so many opportunities for himself and his kind just to save the man he loves and sometimes just to make the man he loves happy. it's devotion taking a dangerous turn into ruthlessness. it's a fun family show slowly spiralling into a dark tragedy more befitting of a ya novel. it's love in all its flawed, messy complexities.
10 notes · View notes
ghostzzy · 1 year
Text
anyway it kinda sorta feels like my life is just now starting.
21 notes · View notes
cescalr · 2 years
Note
For the ship asks! If we're talking Avatar, what about Mei and Zuko?
I'll be honest, I'm not fond of it. I don't really like mei in the first place - apathy never sits well with me, and she never actually changed her mind? Mei at the start is mei at the end. She didn't think what the fire nation was doing was wrong, and she only sided against Azula to stay with Zuko, which would be sweet if she... actually liked him? And I don't think she does? She was happy with Zuko during his time back at the fire nation when he was acting the part of Ozai's favoured son, and its just... eeh. They give me bad vibes, I don't know. I wouldn't be surprised if she threw a knife at him properly one of these days.
Plus, Mei doesn't have much of a character outside Zuko. I'd rather shew her development than her stagnation, and keeping her with Zuko keeps her the same. In the end, mostly, me*ko just bores me, which is the nail in the coffin for any ship. At least if I hated it I'd feel something, yk? I prefer meilee or even meizula and... really any other zuko ship (aside from aang >-< yike) over meiko, but... I wouldn't, like, absolutely hate it if a good fic had meiko in it, you know? I just don't like them in canon. Much like I've said before, I'm willing to give things their fair shot. It's just that Mei herself is a hard sell for me as a focal character. It's not even that she's a 'bad' person - I read Azula and Jet-centric fics, and even memorably one Ozai centred fic (time travel, it was interesting start but still a wip though so going to see where it leads) - it's more that I just don't know what to do with her. She's kind of a meh girlfriend and kind of a whatever person, to me.
In comparison, Zuko is literally The redemption arc guy. He's the character people want to replicate the success of. Zuko is such a person that he's iconic and Mei is kinda... there. For the record, I didn't even know she existed until I watched the show. Zukka and Zutara and Zuko's character arc were well known to me, but Mei was not. I ended up only liking zukka platonically, not minding and sometimes supporting zutara, shipping jetko for the angst and the parallelism, even giving some really au zuko stuff like that one toph arranged marriage series or his leadership/friendship/family dynamics with his crew a go, jin/zuko, song/zuko - loads of things! On the other hand, Mei didn't have much going for her in my estimation to begin with, and her portrayal by competing ship fans probably didn't help. There was one where she tried to kill him after the war ended, lmao. That was silly. But still. Bias is easy to build, even without meaning to.
So, would I say I like meiko? No. Would I say I hate it? Depends on the portrayal. Much like ronmione, I don't think it would take a lot of tweaking to make her abusive, specifically also without being OOC, which worries me. So I just don't poke that sleeping dragon and hang out in the other ship spaces.
In the end, I think they just didn't understand each other on a fundamental level. (Also important; Zuko never seemed to know what to do with her, the things shed like or appreciate, and never seemed to take her own expressions - mild as they were - of affection as well as one would expect were he actually in love with her, which is itself important to note, though of course also just my own interpretation of what we were given; a lot of their scenes were cut off at some of the most important parts, which doesnt quite sit right with me.) And I need something to dig my teeth into that just wasn't present for their relationship, except in ways I couldn't interpret positively. A shame, but oh well. We can't all like everything :).
5 notes · View notes
mrfoox · 1 year
Text
.... I feel bad bc my friend is sad ) :
#miranda talking shit#I feel a bit guilty too... I think thabks to my meds i am taking this better than normal but yeah#Fabian and me have only like spoken twice over the past month or two? Which is not much#Considering we have basically talked almost daily for years (a minimum at once per week) ...#The irony is that he implied that he was too big of an part of my life before we had this ... Break#... But as far as i know the few friends he have... Are the ones we have in common. Two irl friends . And me#Hes .... Been feeling lonely. He is now. He wants to talk to people etc and im like ): ...#I... Like oliver said 'i think fabian takes solitude a lot harder than you do. He does mind being alone' and yeah...#I think i may have unintentionally made him rely on me rather hard for socializing... For years hes basically only been in my social 'hot'#Zone. And now he have ended up in my 'cold' zone for the first time for this long... Like oliver said i dont mind solitude.#I grew up playing pretend on my own 80% of my time at home. Now i can get in isolation periods where im focusing on a video game#And literally not... Talk to anyone for a month or more. Then i talk to someone again and i realize i had been lacking social time but i#Dont actively... Feel it. I only get lonely at night badly id like to share bed with someone. But ... Yeah. Fabian is probably used to#Getting all this attention from me constantly and now im... Not providing it. Bc im focusing on other people socially...#I said im glad he shared feeling lonely with me and that i am here for him etc but...#I feel like ive failed him. Is failing him. Idk... I know its not my fault and so on but... My social... Functions have many downsides#I probably make people feel very special. I love to listen and ask about everything and encourage them and such. But then i can just stop#Talking for a long period of time and its .... Its never intentional but its how ive always been. Its why ive always kept to having like 3#Friends up until becoming an adult and now jts... Its hard. I love many people and i want to give them as much of me as possible at a time#So instead of dividing myself to everyone always... I give one or two people all my attention at a time
2 notes · View notes
burntoutdaydreamer · 6 months
Text
Weird Brain Hacks That Help Me Write
I'm a consistently inconsistent writer/aspiring novelist, member of the burnt-out-gifted-kid-to-adult-ADHD-diagnosis-pipeline, recently unemployed overachiever, and person who's sick of hearing the conventional neurotypical advice to dealing with writer's block (i.e. "write every single day," or "there's no such thing as writer's block- if you're struggling to write, just write" Like F*CK THAT. Thank you, Brenda, why don't you go and tell someone with diabetes to just start producing more insulin?)
I've yet to get to a point in my life where I'm able to consistently write at the pace I want to, but I've come a long way from where I was a few years ago. In the past five years I've written two drafts of a 130,000 word fantasy novel (currently working on the third) and I'm about 50,000 words in on the sequel. I've hit a bit of a snag recently, but now that I've suddenly got a lot of time on my hands, I'm hoping to revamp things and return to the basics that have gotten me to this point and I thought I might share.
1) My first draft stays between me and God
I find that I and a lot of other writers unfortunately have gotten it into our heads that first drafts are supposed to resemble the finished product and that revisions are only for fixing minor mistakes. Therefore, if our first draft sucks that must mean we suck as writers and having to rewrite things from scratch means that means our first draft is a failure.
I'm here to say that is one of the most detrimental mentalities you can have as a writer.
Ever try drawing a circle? You know how when you try to free-hand draw a perfect circle in one go, it never turns out right? Whereas if you scribble, say, ten circles on top of one another really quickly and then erase the messy lines until it looks like you drew a circle with a singular line, it ends up looking pretty decent?
Yeah. That's what the drafting process is.
Your first draft is supposed to suck. I don't care who you are, but you're never going to write a perfect first draft, especially if you're inexperienced. The purpose of the first draft is to lay down a semi-workable foundation. A really loose, messy sketch if you will. Get it all down on paper, even if it turns out to be the most cliche, cringe-inducing writing you've ever done. You can work out those kinks in the later drafts. The hardest part of the first draft is the most crucial part: getting started. Don't stress yourself out and make it even harder than it already is.
If that means making a promise to yourself that no one other than you will ever read your first draft unless it's over your cold, dead body, so be it.
2) Tell perfectionism to screw off by writing with a pen
I used to exclusively write with pencil until I realized I was spending more time erasing instead of writing.
Writing with a pen keeps me from editing while I right. Like, sometimes I'll have to cross something out or make notes in the margins, but unlike erasing and rewriting, this leaves the page looking like a disaster zone and that's a good thing.
If my writing looks like a complete mess on paper, that helps me move past the perfectionist paralysis and just focus on getting words down on the page. Somehow seeing a page full of chicken scratch makes me less worried about making my writing all perfect and pretty- and that helps me get on with my main goal of fleshing out ideas and getting words on a page.
3) It's okay to leave things blank when you can't think of the right word
My writing, especially my first draft, is often filled with ___ and .... and (insert name here) and red text that reads like stage directions because I can't think of what is supposed to go there or the correct way to write it.
I found it helps to treat my writing like I do multiple choice tests. Can't think of the right answer? Just skip it. Circle it, come back to it later, but don't let one tricky question stall you to the point where you run out of brain power or run out of time to answer the other questions.
If I'm on a role, I'm not gonna waste it by trying to remember that exact word that I need or figure out the right transition into the next scene or paragraph. I'm just going to leave it blank, mark to myself that I'll need to fix the problem later, and move on.
Trust me. This helps me sooooo much with staying on a roll.
4) Write Out of Order
This may not be for everyone, but it works wonders for me.
Sure, the story your writing may need to progress chronologically, but does that mean you need to write it chronologically? No. It just needs to be written.
I generally don't do this as much for editing, but for writing, so long as you're making progress, it doesn't matter if it's in the right order. Can't think of how to structure Chapter 2, but you have a pretty good idea of how your story's going to end? Write the ending then. You'll have to go back and write Chapter 2 eventually, but if you're feeling more motivated to write a completely different part of the book, who's to say you can't do that?
When I'm working on a project, I start off with a single document that I title "Scrap for (Project Title)" and then just write whatever comes to mind, in whatever order. Once I've gotten enough to work with, then I start outlining my plot and predicting how many chapters I'm going to need. Then, I create separate google docs for each individual chapter and work on them in whatever order I feel like, often leaving several partially complete as I jump from one to the other. Then, as each one gets finished, I copy and paste the chapter into the full manuscript document. This means that the official "draft" could have Chapters 1 and 9, but completely be missing Chapters 2-8, and that's fine. It's not like anyone will ever know once I finish it.
Sorry for the absurdly long post. Hopes this helps someone. Maybe I'll share more tricks in the future.
3K notes · View notes
cherienymphe · 7 months
Text
Smells Like Teen Spirit (Rafe Cameron x Reader)
Tumblr media
Warnings: NON/DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, attempted murder + suicide, mentions of blood, loss of virginity, underage drinking, jealousy, kook!reader
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @firefly-graphics
➥ cont.
Tumblr media
summary: Being one half of the royal couple of Figure 8 isn't what it's cracked up to be.
~
The first time Rafe hit you, it was on your birthday.
Like every year, your parents threw you a big party that hosted no less than a hundred people. A good number of those people were friends from school and familiar faces you’d grown up with. The other bunch were family friends that had more in common with your parents than you. You took their pretty cards filled with money and thanked them with a smile, relieved when they scampered off to congregate with the other forty somethings.
It was the same party every year. Half the people of Figure 8 in attendance, an abundance of gifts you could barely keep up with, and a light scold or two from your mother to smile and greet the next person who came in. Your hair was flawless and your dress was the perfect length.
The only difference this year was the presence of a boyfriend at your side.
“Rafe, if my dad sees us, I will never hear the end of it.”
Your tone was light and teasing, and you said it with a smile, but there was a hint of seriousness there. It really didn’t matter how older you grew to be, you were sure you’d always be your daddy’s little girl. The older man already hadn’t been the most excited when you told him you were dating Rafe Cameron, Ward Cameron’s son, and you were positive that the Cameron family’s reputation was Rafe’s only saving grace.
You’d just turned eighteen then after all and was already flaunting your new adult status.
The blue-eyed boy in front of you merely chuckled, tightening his arms around your waist and leaning in to kiss you again. The house and the yard were filled with almost too many people, so you hadn’t hesitated when Rafe discreetly guided you upstairs.
“He’s too busy talking about his new boat, isn’t he?” he wondered. “He’ll talk all night if they let him.”
You lightly tapped his chest, but you didn’t voice any disagreement.
Your back was leaning against your bedroom door, the muffled sounds of some classical music reaching your ears through the wall. Rafe’s hands were tight on your waist, and you both felt and heard him chuckle again, his lips still pressed against yours. Only this time, he kept laughing—softly and to himself—and you gave him a slight frown when he pulled away.
“I was just thinking…” Rafe pulled you close again. “How hilarious it would be if he was going on and on about that damn boat…none the wiser to his daughter getting fucked on her birthday right upstairs.”
This time you hit him a little harder, and Rafe only laughed again.
“You’re not funny,” you scolded, deflating a little as you pulled away from him. “Way to ruin the mood.”
You said it quietly as you sat down on the edge of your bed, but Rafe heard it clearly, and when you looked up at him, you recognized the look on his face instantly.
“Funny,” he started, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning against the door. “Mentioning sex usually has the opposite effect on most people.”
You rolled your eyes with a turn of your head, looking towards your window. The atmosphere was different, now, and you didn’t know if it was your fault or Rafe’s. He joked like that sometimes, and you knew it, so you could recognize that maybe you were being too sensitive.
The topic at hand, however, was a sensitive one for you.
“I really don’t want to have this fight, right now,” you mumbled.
You could feel his gaze on you, but you didn’t return it, determined to just stare down at the people in your yard. The air was thick, the tension even thicker, and you reached up to rub your arms, trying to rid them of the goosebumps that had appeared. Rafe hated being ignored, and you knew that, but you couldn’t bring yourself to continue the conversation because you knew what was brewing.
Rafe was the perfect boyfriend. He was pretty—the kind of pretty that even some girls would be jealous of. He came from the kind of family that taught him about manners and respect. He never hesitated to do what he could to make your life easier despite growing up wanting for nothing. You didn’t think it was possible for an already spoiled girl to be spoiled some more until you started dating Rafe and he proved you wrong. He treated you like a princess, so yes. Rafe was the perfect boyfriend.
Mostly.
“I’ve been really understanding, you know…”
Rafe’s voice was low, and your gaze dropped to your lap.
“…but we’ve been dating for what? Eight months?”
You swallowed, eyes burning.
“Do you know how hard Topper and Kelce would laugh at me if they knew my girlfriend of almost a year refuses to have sex with me?”
You scoffed, finally looking at him, brows pulled together.
“You make it sound like I’m punishing you,” you breathed. “Rafe, this has nothing to do with you, I… I’m just not ready.”
“…and still no ETA on when you will be, huh?”
You blinked at him, lips parting at his callous tone and words. You looked away, blinking back tears because you would hate it if you cried on your birthday of all days.
“You’re being an asshole.”
You whispered it, and you heard Rafe huff.
“I’m not trying to be,” he told you, and you heard him move closer. “…but come on. I get it…”
The bed dipped as he sat down next to you, and you felt his hand on your face, fingers grazing your cheek.
“You’re nervous, and it seems scary, but you’re treating me like I’m some stranger on the street, and not…your boyfriend. You know I’ll take care of you. I always take care of you, and that’s why I don’t understand it,” he bit out. “I treat you like gold, and here I am, eight months in and wondering if you even feel the same way.”
You whipped your head around to stare at him in disbelief, looking between his eyes. You didn’t know how he could be serious, but as you gazed at him, you realized that Rafe was very serious. You took a moment to scoot away from him just a tad.
“I show you everyday how much you mean to me, Rafe…but because I won’t have sex with you that means I don’t love you? So just forget all the other stuff, I guess,” you sneered.
Rafe reached for you when you started to turn away, shaking your head and lightly pushing at his hands. Today was your birthday, and you were fighting with your boyfriend…because sex was something you just weren’t ready for. You snatched your arm out of his hold, standing on unsteady legs.
“When you first brought this up, I told you then that I wasn’t ready, and you made it clear you were okay with waiting. Was that a lie?” you asked him, meeting his gaze.
Rafe ran his hand down his face, huffing to himself.
“No, but I just didn’t think I’d still be waiting almost half a year later.”
He was standing, now too.
“So, why are you? No one’s forcing you to stay here, Rafe,” you sadly told him with a shrug. “You don’t have to be with me if sex is that damn important to you. There are plenty of other girls out there who will happily give you what I don’t want to.”
You crossed your arms over your chest.
“…and I know because I see the looks they give you…and the looks they give me.”
You were used to envy. You’d been on the receiving end of it all your life. Growing up on this side of the island guaranteed that from birth, but you also knew it was because your standing was only rivaled by Sarah Cameron. If Rafe’s sister were anyone else, you might have found yourself involved in some one-sided rivalry, but Sarah was a lot like you.
Just a girl born into fortunate circumstances.
However, what you weren’t used to was envy because of the man you loved. When it came to your house and your lifestyle and everything else, it never bothered you because no one could take those things from you. Rafe, on the other hand… You knew what he was like and what he was used to. It was why you’d been very honest about your sexual history and lack thereof from almost the beginning. If Rafe was going to leave you for someone else all because you wouldn’t have sex with him, you would have rather he do it early.
Not now…not eight months in because now you loved him, and the thought made you want to cry, and it would take just as many months to get over him.
“If I wanted any of those other spoiled bitches then I wouldn’t be here,” Rafe told you. “Besides, you think I’m just going to walk away with nothing after investing so much time and money and energy into you?”
You reared back at that, eyes widening just a tad, and Rafe seemed to realize how that came out. He sighed, reaching for you just as you stepped away from him. You heard him curse when you left the room, ignoring the sound of him calling your name as you hurried to mix yourself in with all of your guests downstairs.
Rafe talked about you like some business investment he was waiting to get a return on. It hurt, a lot, and while you wanted to believe he hadn’t meant it like that in his head, you couldn’t help but to wonder if that was really how he saw you. Your mother smiled at you when she saw your face, none the wiser to your temporary absence. Your own smile was forced as she introduced you to their new golfing buddies.
You didn’t know when Rafe came back downstairs, only quickly glancing away when your eyes connected with his after some time. If your parents noticed your distance from him, they didn’t comment on it, and after a while, you barely noticed it yourself. You immersed yourself in your friends, halfway listening to boyfriend troubles and semester woes.
This was the only thing you and Rafe ever fought about. Plenty of your friends had boyfriends before who tried to pressure them into doing things they didn’t want to do. You were always the friend to tell them to dump them without hesitation, so why hadn’t you done the same? Was it because Rafe was so perfect in all other aspects of your relationship? The back and forth hadn’t ever been so serious before…not until tonight.
As you sipped on the drink you weren’t supposed to be having, you remembered the hurt you felt when Rafe implied you didn’t love him. What a crazy thing to say. You treated him just as well as he treated you, never mind the fact that you told him every day how much you loved him…but because you wouldn’t fuck him that meant otherwise?
It was enough to make you angry.
“Finally stopped hiding from me…?”
You tensed up for half a second, relaxing with a sigh as you heard him come closer. You were out by the water, now, sitting on the boat dock with one leg swinging. It had been nothing but just you and your thoughts for a good thirty minutes, and you guessed it took that amount of time for Rafe to realize you were no longer in the house.
“I don’t know yet,” you honestly told him.
“I didn’t mean it like that. You know I didn’t,” Rafe quietly said, getting straight to the point.
“…but I don’t know. You don’t even think I love you just because I won’t have sex with you. For all I know, that’s exactly how you see me,” you mumbled.
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“Says the guy ruining my birthday!”
You were looking up at him, now, tearfully, and you shook your head. Saying it aloud made you realize just how shitty it was, and you sniffed, pulling yourself to your feet.
“Just go home, Rafe…”
He stopped you from walking by him, and you ignored anything he was trying to say. The more he leaned in, that was when you smelled it, and your frown deepened at the stench of alcohol on his breath. You didn’t know why the smell made you so angry. It was a party, after all, but maybe it was the fact that if anyone of the two of you deserved to drown their sorrows in booze, it was you. Not Rafe. Pushing at his chest, you scoffed.
“One argument…and you’re already getting drunk?”
You jerked your face away from his hand, glowering at him.
“Don’t you want to at least wait for Ward to give you the daily disappointment speech?”
The slap wasn’t as hard as it could’ve been, but it was hard enough to make your face burn.
You were staring at the water from when your head had whipped to the side, and when a nightly breeze blew by, kissing your skin, only then did the dull burning sensation fade away into a painful one. Your lips were parted in shock, and you were slow to reach up and touch your cheek. The silence was loud, and when you finally looked at Rafe, he looked as shocked as you felt.
All of your breath had left you, and your brain was short-circuiting, desperately trying to reconcile your boyfriend with the same guy who’d just slapped you. It didn’t seem real, and yet the dull pain you felt said otherwise. A few tears escaped against your will, and it was only then did Rafe move. His face fell, but you were already backing away.
“Y/N-.”
“Don’t touch me,” you tearfully spat. “What is wrong with you?”
He didn’t listen, grabbing your arms anyway, and you were still in too much shock to really fight back. Rafe cooed at you, trying to take your face into his hands no matter how much you protested. You wanted him far away from you, and your brain was unsure of how to achieve that, still grappling with the memory of his palm connecting with your cheek.
“Hey, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to do that,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. “Baby, stop.”
You shoved at his chest, hitting it, but he wasn’t deterred. He only rested his free hand on the back of your head, holding you against him, and the feel had more tears spilling over. You kept trying to get away, but Rafe refused to let you, repeatedly apologizing and shushing you. You could feel the cool metal of his ring against your scalp, his lips there too as he kept telling you he was sorry.
Your chest was so tight, and it ached just as much as your face. Your mind was still fighting to make sense of what had happened tonight, and despite Rafe’s apologies for his entire behavior, you told yourself that this was the last straw. Rafe had ruined your birthday in more ways than one, and you were done. You had to be.
…because you deserved better.
Tumblr media
The first time you had sex with Rafe—with anyone ever—you’d been terrified.
…and drunk.
An entire month after your birthday, and you didn’t know if you were more shocked or angry that you stayed with Rafe. You had been so determined to leave him that night. He had ruined your birthday beyond repair, and you knew that anytime you looked back on the night you turned nineteen, you’d only remember Rafe slapping you on the dock.
…but you’d also remember his profuse apologies, and the tears in his eyes as he begged you to forgive him.
He was drunk. That was what he kept saying, that he was drunk and acted before thinking. It was barely a reason and certainly wasn’t an excuse, so why did you stay? It was stupid to stay…and yet you did. You let Rafe kiss your face and lead you back to the party that had long died and smile in the face of the parents whose daughter he’d just hit.
You’d answered the phone as he called you, taking almost half an hour to just tell you again how sorry he was and how he didn’t know what came over him and how it would never happen again. You’d never known Rafe to be so apologetic in all the time you’d been dating him. It would’ve been sweet if it weren’t for the circumstances, and the whole time, you’d only been able to listen in silence with your fingers grazing your face.
You hadn’t been able to look him in the eye for days, going over it in your head again and again. Torn between listening to your gut and telling yourself that it had just been a one-off thing, a bad drunken night. After all, what you’d said to him hadn’t been the nicest, knowing how he felt in regard to Ward and his relationship with him. It didn’t make it right…but you had provoked Rafe. You’d said it to hurt him…to make him angry… Right?
…but that wasn’t the case a month later.
Things between you and Rafe hadn’t been the same since. He still doted on you, and your parents still adored him, and you were reluctant to admit you still loved him, but you could never get that night out of your mind. You could never forget how swift it had been, how no thought to you had been spared. Rafe had only been focused on retaliating, hurting you, and it was something you often struggled with. You believed it wouldn’t happen again…but what if it did?
Without even realizing it, you became less argumentative with the blond. You gave him less pushback, you smiled more and became more agreeable to his suggestions. You spent more time with him, making him happy. You believed him when he said it wouldn’t happen again, but in the back of your mind, something in you was doing everything you could think of to make sure it didn’t.
…and that was why you still didn’t quite understand how the fight had started.
Something about Topper…or Kelce.
You were so drunk, it was hard to remember.
“I saw you!”
You had blinked at Rafe from your place on the couch, staring up at him in wonder and confusion. Another Friday meant another party, and promising your mother you’d be back by a certain time, you’d allowed Rafe to help you into his truck. Nothing about the night had been out of the ordinary, and it was why you found yourself wracking your brain.
“Rafe, I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you softly told him, trying to understand why he was so mad.
The only son of Ward Cameron knocked the glass of water right out of your hand, and you flinched at the action, blinking at the sight of shattered glass on the floor. You’d gotten it to try and help you sober up before you went home, and you stared at the spilled water with parted lips. You were too drunk to fully grasp the severity of the situation you were now in.
Suddenly Rafe was there, too close, leaning down over you with his hands resting on the back of the couch. You leaned back and away from him, eyes wide as he looked at you like you were something he’d find on the bottom of his shoe. Like he was so disgusted with the sight of you, and again, you wracked your brain to understand what you’d done. To understand how to fix this.
Rafe’s blue gaze had been cold, icy, and you hadn’t missed the tick of his jaw. The alcohol in your system hindered your thinking, and that had seemed to make Rafe angrier, like he was furious you couldn’t put it together. Read his mind. Overwhelmed, you hadn’t been able to stop a few tears of frustration from escaping, and that just seemed to really send him over the edge.
“You were in his lap,” he had bit out, and only then did you finally understand.
Your odd relationship with your boyfriend these days had driven you to drink more than you ever had. You’d been sloppy…clumsy, and Topper was nice enough to help you back to your feet after you’d quite literally fallen right onto his lap. You wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, but one look into Rafe’s eyes had you swallowing it down.
He was very serious…and very angry.
You reached for him, but Rafe only slapped your hands away, straightening and looking down his nose at you. It was a look that made you feel so…cold, and with one blink, you remembered that you were alone. Sarah was God knows where, and the remaining Camerons had gone out to eat. The house was usually empty during this time, but it wasn’t this Friday night.
It consisted of you…and your angry boyfriend.
“I should…I should go. Call my mom,” you mumbled, pushing yourself to your feet.
Your attempts to get by Rafe went unsuccessful, and with each block to your path, something deep within your gut just…dropped. Your gaze met a familiar blue one, and nothing about it was warm, welcoming. Rafe seemed to be so mad at you about something so silly, but instead of just talking about it later when you were both much clearer headed…he didn’t want to let you leave.
“Is that what you’re gonna do?” he’d mocked, a mean look on his face. “Call mommy and daddy to come get you?”
Sarah.
You reminded of him of Sarah.
That was what he’d said, what he’d thrown at you. His tense relationship with the other girl was no secret to anyone, least of all you, and you winced at every insult he threw at you. Spoiled brat. Perfect princess. Uptight prude. It shocked you for a lot of reasons, but mostly because Rafe wasn’t drunk. He wasn’t sober, but you’d hardly seen him drink all night and not nearly as much as you, and he was insulting you with confidence, throwing all of these things at you that you never knew he felt.
“I’m just going to go home, okay? You’re being an asshole, and I don’t know why, so I just…”
At some point, your back was grazing the wall, and Rafe was hovering before you, a look in his eye like leaving was the very last thing he wanted you to do. Every move of yours was mirrored, every turn met with one of his own, and for the first time ever…you were afraid of your boyfriend.
When Rafe hit you that night, you hadn’t been scared. Not really. You’d been angry…shocked…disbelieving. Not scared though. You’d just wanted to be away from him, you had even wanted to hit him back, but not once did you remember feeling scared for your life. Not like this night, and you couldn’t keep it together.
“Rafe, please, I just…I just wanna go home,” you choked out, touching your temple. “We can talk about this tomorrow.”
You were so confused as to how you got here. The night had taken such an unexpected turn, and more than anything, you wanted to sleep it off and write the whole thing off as a bad dream. You wanted to get some more water and take a shower and skip to the part where you had a pounding headache in the morning. You didn’t understand how a night of partying had turned into an argument with your boyfriend.
Although, you supposed it wasn’t much of an argument. Mostly Rafe yelling at you and you trying to understand why. Rafe was determined to make this into something it wasn’t, and when it became clear that he wasn’t going to let you leave without dead-ing this whole thing, you frowned at him.
“I fell. You know I fell, you know…”
Your words died in the air as Rafe rolled his eyes, and something in you was telling you that Rafe was going to believe what he wanted to believe. He was determined to make something true, and it startled you to realize that you’d lost this argument before it even began. Slipping from in between Rafe and the wall was a mistake.
A mistake that had consequences.
Your purse was halfway across the room before you could even grab it good, Rafe suddenly in your face again. He was yelling about a whole bunch of nothing, and when you turned from him again, Rafe made sure it was the last time, gripping your upper arm so hard that you actually cried out. His other hand followed suit, and he shook you, hard enough to make your head whip back and forth.
The only time he listened to you was when you asked him to let you go.
…and he did just that…shoving you in the process.
The kitchen counter slowed your fall only a bit, but it added to the pain more than anything else. Trying to get up proved fruitless, because Rafe was there, kneeling before you with one hand on the counter. The other was on your face, forcing you to look at him. You were too drunk to make full sense of everything he was saying, to grasp the danger you were in. When you finally did, it was too late.
…because Rafe was already ripping the dress he bought you a week ago.
You thought it was a joke at first—some awful and insensitive scare tactic—until you were reaching up to pull at the hand around your throat. Your other hand slapped at the cabinets below in panic, and with a knee between your legs, it was impossible to close them. You knew that you were alone, but that fact didn’t stop you from crying out.
“You really expect me to just watch you throw yourself at my friends? Huh?”
The kitchen floor was cool against your back.
“…and laugh about it?”
He was fumbling between you both, and the room was spinning too much for you to understand why. You felt nauseous, and Rafe was hurting you, and you were cold. Not to mention that your head had started to hurt, but you also realized that everything was hurting.
“But you won’t even touch me.”
You felt like you’d been punched in the gut…only lower.
The pain of Rafe’s intrusion had you wailing, and the difference in your reactions couldn’t have been starker. It was hard to decipher, but you were sure that Rafe had moaned, a low drawn-out sigh as he sheathed himself inside of you. You could feel Rafe’s chest heaving against yours, could feel his heartbeat, could even hear his shaky breath.
You, on the other hand…
You couldn’t move. You felt frozen, restricted by something unseen, and when you tried to fight against it, you gasped. One shift had you wincing, and tears spilled over almost immediately. Your hands were pressing against his chest, now, desperately trying to push Rafe away, pushing off of you… out of you. It was no good, Rafe in a whole other world you weren’t privy too as he pulled back.
The feel had you wincing again, and you thought…
Well, you thought wrong.
Your relief was short-lived, and Rafe ignored everything you said as he started to thrust inside of you. His hips barely left yours, only enough to create friction, and you pushed your forearm against his neck, fighting to get him to stop. The pain wasn’t something you could wrap your head around, and you didn’t know if you were grateful or not that you were so drunk.
Every snap of Rafe’s hips made you cry harder, harsh sobs escaping and echoing in the otherwise silent kitchen. The sound of your bawling was only rivaled by the groans that escaped Rafe, your boyfriend pointedly ignoring your plight. One of his hands pushed against your face, forcing your head to the side…as if he didn’t want to see your face.
See the reality of what he was doing to you.
You thought at some point that the pain would go away, subside, but it felt like it only got worse with each thrust of his cock. Rafe was a man on a mission with only one objective in mind, and you were having the hardest time sorting your thoughts, realizing that in this moment you were a means to an end. An objective to be met through the use of your body.
…but you supposed it was more than just that.
Rafe was always entitled, a trait you found somewhat endearing much like towards an entitled child, but it hadn’t occurred to you that he’d feel entitled to you too. Before the night of your birthday, you knew the one thorn in your relationship, the one thing to actually put a crack in your relationship. Deep down somewhere, you expected Rafe to just leave you. After all, why wouldn’t you?
There was no universe in which you’d ever consider the possibility of the alternative.
The possibility that your boyfriend would just take what he wanted.
It didn’t last long—or maybe that was the alcohol in your system sparing you—but you couldn’t even be relieved. Even after Rafe pulled out, spent and satisfied and out of breath, the pain still remained. He was talking, and you didn’t know if he was talking to himself or you, but you paid it no mind. You could still feel him deep in your gut, and you rolled onto your side, curling into yourself.
You didn’t hear him the first time, but the second time Rafe told you to get up, he was forcing you to your feet. It hurt, and you could barely walk, and your confusion only grew. His hold was tight, and his tone sounded off, and you discovered why when headlights from the yard bled through the windows and into your line of sight.
He was rushing you to get upstairs, but you kept stumbling from both the pain and your blurry vision. Rafe didn’t let you go until you were just inside of his room, and as you collapsed to the floor, you could hear the door opening downstairs. You couldn’t stop crying even if you wanted to, and you hadn’t even realized Rafe had left—to give some half-baked excuse for the broken glass, no doubt—until he returned, suddenly kneeling at your side and begging you to stop crying.
You tried to push him away, but your movements were sluggish, weak, and you weren’t able to hold your own as he pulled you to your feet. Rafe stumbled into the bathroom with you, an arm around you and holding you up as he started the shower. You didn’t want him touching you, but you were physically unable to stop him. Every step hurt and made you stumble, every wave of your arm made you sway, and when the warm water ran over you both, there was nothing you could do as he washed away every remnant of his assault.
Tumblr media
You were at Rafe’s side on his birthday, a small smile on your lips as he kept an arm around your waist. Rose thanked you for coming, not that she would expect anything different, and Wheezie asked if you would be staying over. The youngest Cameron had taken a liking to you—all of them did really—and she looked forward to having you around. You wanted to tell her no, but that wasn’t what you said. Instead, you said:
“Its’ Rafe’s birthday. Why wouldn’t I?”
The dark-haired girl beamed, adjusting her glasses, and her satisfaction was contagious. You knew that Rafe’s dynamic with his family was tricky at the best of times, and while you were sure they loved you just fine, something in you also wondered if they liked who Rafe was when he was around you. They were happy to host you for as long as they could.
They had no idea that it was only 24 hours earlier when Rafe tried to kill you.
Trying to leave Rafe resulted in the last thing you ever expected.
That night—and all the other nights that followed—haunted you. When you closed your eyes, you could only see Rafe at his lowest, holding you down and hurting you. You could only feel the pain of him forcing himself inside of you, and the pain that lingered when he was no longer there. The memory of bloody water swirling down the drain was a constant in your mind. As well as the memory of Rafe putting you in his bed, pulling his shirt down to your knees.
You should have left the night of your birthday, you should’ve gotten out then, and none of it would have ever happened, but you told yourself that late was better than never. You told yourself that you learned your lesson and you didn’t have to experience any more hurt to leave. Your eyes were open, and while you didn’t know if you’d ever go against Rafe legally for what he did, you did know that you were leaving him. You had to focus on each step at once. Trying to think so far ahead was enough to scare you.
Right now, you just needed to leave him.
His entire visage had been eerily calm as you broke up with him, voice shaking as you did. Even he hadn’t been able to deny how your relationship had deteriorated, become something unrecognizable and unhealthy. The morning after, you felt like you were existing outside of your body. You could see Rafe leaving apologetic kisses along your face as you stirred, but you couldn’t really feel it. You couldn’t feel his hands either, not until they found a home between your legs, at least.
Your protest was almost immediate, but Rafe had assured you it was fine…and you were scared.
So, you believed him.
Experiencing pain and pleasure at the same time was foreign to you. Rafe’s previous assault was not something to be ignored, but it felt odd to come around him and hiss from the pain of it at the same time. He was gentle, pressing his lips to yours and grazing his fingertips against your skin. His thrusts had been slow and careful, but the damage had been done, and every push of his hips brought out conflicting reactions.
That was how it always went.
Even after the pain and bruises were long gone, you couldn’t stop being afraid of Rafe. After all, he’d made it perfectly clear that he wouldn’t respect any kind of refusal from you. What kind of relationship was that? How could you thrive in that? Rafe may have been your first everything, but you weren’t naïve. He was an abusive asshole…and you were just too scared to do something about it.
Until last night.
You thought it would be easy. You even remembered internally laughing at yourself for how dramatic you’d made it in your mind. You thought… You thought that Rafe would move on, let you go. After all, he’d finally gotten what he wanted, and you had even exhaled when he nodded, a soft ‘okay’ soon to follow.
“Let me drive you home,” he’d said.
“Okay,” you’d replied.
You didn’t know why you thought it would be that easy.
Things with Rafe hadn’t been easy in months, and your attempted breakup was no different.
You realized that when the needle on the speedometer started to rapidly climb, the sound of Rafe’s revving engine loud in the truck. You asked him what was going on, where he was going, even though deep down you knew. You knew Rafe better than anyone probably, so you knew the answers to your questions before you even asked them.
“Rafe, stop,” you’d begged, reaching for his arm, but the blond simply fixed you with a wry smile.
“Why?” he’d wondered with a shrug. “So, you can leave me? Why would I want that?”
The houses and trees were flying past you outside the window, and you never felt more powerless than in the moment you were trapped in Rafe’s truck, unable to do a thing as he raced down the road towards the end he’d already picked out for the both of you. Any attempt to grab the wheel only resulted in Rafe jerking it—jerking the vehicle in the process—and scaring the shit out of you.
Retracting everything you’d said earlier only resulted in a harsh slap to the steering wheel, a dry laugh from Rafe soon to follow.
“You think I believe that load of shit? Huh?”
“Rafe-!”
“You just tried to break up with me not even thirty minutes ago,” he screamed.
He wasn’t wrong, and you still wanted to, but you were more afraid of dying than living a lie. You pleaded with your boyfriend, assuring him that you didn’t mean it. He only laughed again, and you got the feeling that Rafe was genuinely amused by you. By your tears, by your fear, and by your desperation.
Your heart was racing so fast it could be classified as painful. Your hands were sweating and constantly sliding against the door from where you tried to hold on to it. You pulled at his arm when he swerved into the other lane, swerving back just in time to miss an oncoming truck. Your stomach twisted painfully, bile rising in your throat, and at this point you couldn’t even see the road because of your tears.
“Rafe, please, please just talk to me,” you cried.
His knuckles were white as he gripped the wheel, blue eyes focused on the road with not a glance spared towards you, and you pressed your hand to your mouth. You looked out of the window again, unable to make out a thing, and when you reached for Rafe this time, he didn’t slap your hand away. He didn’t protest when you wrapped your arm around his waist, leaning into him and resting your hand against his chest.
You knew that your tears were staining his shirt, and you didn’t know if you stopped fighting as some unconscious tactic or simply because you were accepting what was impossible to escape. Rafe had to have been going a hundred miles an hour, this kind of speed something your brain could barely fathom. It was after some time when you felt his hand on your head and some time after that when you gradually felt the truck slowing.
You were still shaking long after it came to a stop in some wooded area, and the silence in the vehicle was loud. Rafe was just playing with your hair while you trembled against him, and when he stopped, it was only to trail his hand to your neck, gripping the back of it harshly as he forced you to sit up. You knew you looked as distraught as you felt, but Rafe…
Rafe looked calm and in control and nothing less.
His blue eyes ran over your face, drinking in your trembling lips and wet cheeks, lingering on your wide eyes the longest. You felt him rub his thumb along your skin, and when he hummed, it harshly pressed against the side of your neck. Suddenly, the corner of his pink lips curved just the slightest, and nothing about it was soothing.
“I wasn’t serious… You know that, right?”
You didn’t respond because he wasn’t kidding, and you both knew it. Rafe shifted, moving closer, and he brought his other hand up to touch your cheek, wiping your tears away. He studied your eyes, leaning in and grazing your lips.
“It was just…something I didn’t mean. You understand though. Doing things…saying things we don’t mean,” he slowly said to you, swiping his tongue between his lips. “Right…?”
The drop in his voice and the slight raise of his brows had you swallowing, and he was looking at you like he dared you to disagree. Fighting the urge to throw up, and with a shaky nod, you told Rafe what he wanted to hear.
“Right,” you whispered, and he chuckled.
“Alright,” he breathed with a blinding smile, pulling you into his side. “Kelce is throwing together some small thing at his house. I told him we might stop by…”
He trailed off, leaving room for a comment, and you only shrugged.
“That’s fine with me.”
Your voice was barely audible, but Rafe heard you fine, starting the truck and pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“I knew it would be.”
You’d been quiet the whole night, and you’d been quiet all day, only existing as silent support to Rafe on his birthday. If anyone noticed your reserved demeanor, no one commented on it. No one knew that as you wished Rafe a happy birthday, you were afraid of what could happen if you didn’t smile hard enough. When he kissed you, you could only think of how he’d kissed you after threatening to kill you both. Every time Rafe held your hand, it felt like a chain tethering you to him.
You dreaded the moment the party would thin out and everyone would start trickling from the home in pairs, heading back to the comfort of their own homes until just Rafe and his family remained. Eventually they would call it a night too, and you and Rafe would be alone, and you wouldn’t have a choice but to kiss him back when he eventually kissed you.
…and kiss you he did.
“You almost ruined my birthday, you know,” he mumbled into the kiss, making you pause for half a second.
Your only response was a quiet apology, and Rafe sighed into your mouth.
“That’s okay, baby,” the blond purred. “You know I’ll let you make it up to me.”
You were terrified of your boyfriend, and that was why you let him undress you. You let him wrap his arms around you and hold you close and press kisses to your skin. It was surreal to have sexy with someone you were afraid of, like you were being held hostage in your own body. If Rafe noticed—and you were sure that he did—he didn’t care.
He was content to lay you down and bury his face into the crook of your neck. In fact, you were sure Rafe liked your fear, liked that you were so scared of him. You thought it made it all the more fun for him to push his cock into you and feel you tremble in fear. You just knew there was something in Rafe that took great pleasure in making you momentarily sacrifice your fear of him for ecstasy instead.
He forced your head back, and your chest arched upwards into him. You gasped at the feel of his tongue on your skin, gliding over a hardened bud and tasting you. His hips came down slowly, like he was savoring the feel of you clinging to his cock. He sighed with every thrust, and you were never able to swallow down your own moans once Rafe started stroking that fire building within you.
“Fuck,” he groaned, nipping at your lip as he plunged his cock into you.
One of your legs were thrown over his shoulder, and the stretch burned in a way that wasn’t painful but wasn’t the best either. One of your hands was wrapping around his arm, trying to ground yourself as the other twisted into his sheets. You couldn’t stop gasping, clenching down on him every time Rafe hit that spot in you that made you lose your breath.
When he pushed your leg back more, you yelped in pain, but Rafe only hummed. His thrusts became rougher, and he only hummed again when you hissed. Your hand rested on his chest, pushing against him slightly—a nonverbal communication—but Rafe ignored it.
“Rafe…”
His hips were slapping against yours, and you couldn’t even pretend to enjoy it. Your other hand came up too, and he slapped it away, that same hand wrapped around your throat only moments later. You let out a choked cry, reaching up, but Rafe didn’t stop, continuing to fuck you and choke you.
“Look at me-look at me,” he quietly spat.
Too afraid not to, you did, your distressed gaze meeting his even one in the low lighting. He was so close, nose almost brushing against yours, and he looked between your eyes. His hand tightened around your neck, making your heart skip a beat, and his free hand covered your breast, squeezing it, and your free leg kicked at the sheets.
“I will kill you.”
Your nails pressed into the skin on his arm.
“Do you understand me? You try to leave me again…and I will kill you.”
Your heart was threatening to burst from your chest, and the ceiling behind Rafe’s face was starting to blur. The edges of your vision were growing faint, darkness creeping along the outer rim.
“I will dump your body on the side of the road, and I will get away with it.”
His words and cadence were slow, purposeful, and you knew that Rafe was entirely serious. Tears had long spilled over, and you couldn’t stop crying. Rafe shook you, your neck straining from the action, and the whole time he kept fucking you. His lower movements didn’t stop once, sliding into you over and over and stroking your walls all the while he threatened you.
He roughly let you go, and you coughed, touching your throat and shaking uncontrollably. When Rafe shifted, your leg falling to the bed, you pressed your hands to your face, sobbing into the palms of them. Rafe caged you in, thighs meeting yours with every thrust, and he didn’t seem to care at all at the sight of your distress. In fact, he kissed the back of your hands, humming with every stroke, and you could only think that if you had broken up with him on your birthday then he wouldn’t be threatening your life on his.
Tumblr media
Ward Cameron may have felt a lot of things about Rafe, but he wasn’t going to let his only son go to jail.
You should have known that when you called the police, throat tight and phone call tearful as they asked what your emergency was. Telling the woman on the other side of the phone that you were hiding from Rafe Cameron inside of the bathroom wasn’t easy. Telling her that he had a gun was even harder, and something in you wondered if they would’ve been as urgent if they hadn’t heard his booming voice from the other side of the door as he threatened you.
You were sitting on the steps when a familiar car pulled into the driveway behind the cruiser, and you felt your face crumble. There was some relief as the older man went back and forth with Shoupe, but it dwindled the longer it went on. When Ward turned his head towards you, you dropped your gaze, eyes tracing the blood on your foot from where a few shards of glass had nicked it. You didn’t dare look up, not even when you heard his footsteps approaching despite the loud protests from the Sheriff.
When Ward said your name, it was cautious—gentle—and you shook your head.
“No.”
Your name rolled off of his tongue again, and you interrupted whatever he was going to say.
“No, no, no! No,” you cried.
You knew what he was going to say, where this was going, and you refused. You were tired, so tired, and each time you’d tried to do the right thing after your disastrous birthday, you got screwed over. Each time, Rafe was one step ahead or using that charming smile and devious words to convince you it would never happen again. Every slap, every shove, every hand around your throat was proof of all the lies that left his lips.
You were sure that the only truth Rafe had ever told was when he said he’d kill you.
 It was silent between you two for some time, and you heard Ward sigh. You bit your lip, worrying it so much you started to taste blood, and you sniffed, wiping your face as you refused to look at the man. When he took another step towards you, you flinched, and only then did you look up to see the way Ward’s face fell.
You watched him press his lips together, only a thin line, now.
“I want you to tell me what happened.”
You scoffed.
“You know what happened. I’m sure Shoupe told you,” you forced out, and Ward exhaled through his nose.
He briefly glanced over his shoulder, looking at his son in the back of the cop car.
“I want to hear it from you. I want to know how a couple’s quarrel turned into-.”
“A couple’s quarrel?” you repeated in disbelief, tears falling as you exhaled. “He threw a vase at me. He put a gun in my mouth.”
You couldn’t tell how Ward took your words, but he did put his hands on his hips.
“Now, Y/N…you know it’s a crime to lie to the police.”
His response didn’t surprise you, and you nodded, your laugh humorless. Ward knew you were telling the truth, he knew just how unhinged Rafe could be, but he didn’t want him in jail. He couldn’t have the Cameron name tarnished by the arrest of his only son on domestic violence charges. Ward would rather handle this in private, away from prying eyes…and it disgusted you.
“I’m not lying, and you know I’m not lying,” you choked out.
“Why would Rafe do this? Right out of the blue?”
You were on your feet, now, sneering at the other man.
“It’s not out of the blue. Rafe has been treating me like shit for months!”
“…and this is the first we’re hearing of it…?”
The eldest Cameron tilted his head to the side, studying you, and you felt your breath leave you. You watched him touch his chest, gaze soft as he seemed to plead with you.
“Now, I’m not saying that’s not true…but you know that’s what they’re going to ask you. They’re going to ask you why you didn’t tell anyone…and they’re going to note how convenient this all is.”
You knew that, and you looked away, hands falling at your side.
“Rafe says you dropped a vase, and it started an argument.”
“He’s lying-.”
“…and anyone can say you’re the liar.”
You pressed your hands to your forehead, squeezing your eyes shut as more tears fell. Even through your lids, you could see the change in colors from the flash of the squad car, and when you opened your eyes again, the procession of red and blue lit the yard.
“That gun is legally his…and no one saw him do what you claim he did.”
“Why are you protecting him?” you loudly wondered, looking at the man in disbelief.
You’d eaten dinner with his family, even watched his daughter some nights, and he’d smiled in your face on numerous occasions, treating you like his own. Now, though…when push came to shove…Ward Cameron was showing you that you were not one of his own. Rafe was his own…and you were now a threat.
He took a step towards you, and you reached out to grip the rail to keep yourself from falling.
“I am just telling you what will happen if you continue with this,” he slowly started, and you crossed your arms over your chest, refusing to look at him. “They will take Rafe away, and I will pay his bail, and he’ll come home with me. There were no witnesses, and everything is pure speculation, a simple case of he said she said.”
You knew that he was right, and you felt yourself start to shake.
“…and in that scenario, I can’t help you.”
You knew what he was saying. You knew that he was talking about protecting you from more than just scrutiny and the law—he was also talking about protecting you from Rafe. Your lips parted, and you shakily exhaled. You felt like you were going to collapse, legs unsteady, and when you looked over…your eyes finally met a familiar blue pair.
You were positive that Rafe hadn’t taken his eyes off of you since they’d put handcuffs on him. If looks could kill, you were sure that you’d be six feet under, and you frantically blinked. No matter how much you wanted to, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, and your stomach churned at the memory of his hand on the back of your neck. His other held the gun, angrily forcing the weapon into your mouth as he sneered at you.
Something about returning the smile from some pogue at The Wreck—blond and rowdy and kind of familiar.
You recalled that his name was JJ.
The fight had started almost as soon as you got inside, and you shuddered at the flare of pain in your arm, recalling the way Rafe had shoved you into the wall. You’d only slid down just in time to miss the flying vase. Just thinking about it was enough to paralyze you with fear…and then you thought about what would happen should you choose to have a legal battle with Rafe and his family.
…and lose.
You let out a choked sob, looking away, and letting your face fall into your hands. You collapsed back down onto the steps, Ward’s voice reaching you.
“You tell Shoupe this was all one big misunderstanding…and I can do so much more for you. …but I can’t help you if you go through with this.”
You couldn’t stop crying, because you were trapped…and you knew it. Your parents had money too, just as much as the Cameron’s, but that only evened the playing field, it gave you no advantage, and you were back to square one of your word vs Rafe’s. You knew he would be far more forgiving if you just…did what Ward said. You knew that if you went through with this and lost, Rafe would wring your neck.
“I won’t let my son go to jail, Y/N. One way or another…”
You knew he was telling the truth, the conviction in his tone matching the certainty in your chest.
“…but at least this way, I can help you.”
Your knees bounced as you wrapped your arms around yourself, your tearful gaze focused on the perfectly manicured grass. You curled in on yourself, head falling, and your shoulders shook from your sobs.
“He scares me,” you struggled to say, and Ward placated you.
“I know…I know he does, but you have to let me help you.”
You pulled the ends of your sleeves over your hands, wiping your face. The night was still lit up with red and blue, and you closed your eyes, stomach sinking. It took everything in you to give Ward a shaky nod, and you kept your eyes on the ground as Ward waved the other man over.
You felt like you were betraying yourself, arm still aching and throat still raw from all of your screaming. A lot of your trembling was still from what had happened hours ago, and like that day in his truck…and the night of his party…you’d really thought you were going to die. You couldn’t go through that again, but Ward said that he would protect you because you knew Rafe better than anyone, and you knew that if you tried to press charges against Rafe and didn’t succeed…
He would kill you.
“Y/N wants to talk to you.”
You glanced up at the sound of your name, holding Ward’s gaze for a few seconds before finally meeting Shoupe’s.
“I want… I don’t-I don’t wanna press charges.”
Your words tumbled out, and for a moment, you were sure that Shoupe hadn’t heard you properly. You came to realize that he heard you fine, and his confusion wasn’t from a lack of understanding. You watched him rest his hands on his hips, looking between you and Ward.
“Now, Y/N…” he started, seemingly trying to organize his thoughts. “I heard that phone call. I heard what you said and I heard him yelling.”
“It was just a regular argument, Shoupe,” you whispered with a shrug. “It was stupid. A stupid vase…”
“That he threw…”
The pause was heavy, and you glanced away.
“That I dropped.”
You shook your head when he said your name, and you licked your lips, gaze pleading as they met his again.
“Please, just let him go. He didn’t do anything to me. It was a stupid fight that I exaggerated because…I was angry and things got out of hand, and this just went way beyond what I intended, so…”
The other man didn’t look like he believed you, at all, and you watched him glance at Ward—who hadn’t said a thing—before looking back to you. He sighed, fixing you with a look you couldn’t name.
“Are you sure…?”
Your only response was a nod, unsure if you could lie any more without breaking down. With an aggravated sigh—aggravation at you or at Ward, you didn’t know—Shoupe signaled to his deputy to let Rafe go. Ward was pulled to the side as the two men had a hushed and heated conversation, going back and forth, while your gaze rested on Rafe.
You felt like you were doing the worst thing possible as you watched them guide him out of the backseat. He looked far from happy as they uncuffed him, and just like all night, his gaze refused to leave you. The flashing red and blue bathed him, blue eyes glinting almost dangerously, and you pressed your lips together while you watched him rub his now free wrists.
The other men were distracted as Rafe slowly made his way over, and you didn’t dare move. You were too scared to, and as much as you wanted to pull your eyes away, you couldn’t find the strength to. It was just hours ago that you’d stared into that face as he yelled at you for something as harmless as a smile. Only hours ago, he was pushing you around and threatening you.
…and now those same hands were reaching for you and pulling you to your feet.
You cried for so many reasons as Rafe wrapped his arms around you, rocking you from side to side and shushing you in what was meant to be a soothing voice. They were tight, and you cried harder, apologies slipping past your lips before you realized what you were doing. Rafe was always quick to forgive if you were quick to apologize.
“I know,” you heard and felt him murmur into your hair.
“Please, please don’t…”
You both knew what you were begging for, and he gently shushed you.
“I’m sorry,” you choked out again, repeating it as many times as you thought you should, hoping and praying that it was enough. “You have to know that…”
Your words died in the air at the sound of his voice.
“I should be angry with you…but I understand,” he softly told you. “You were scared, and you should’ve been.”
You sniffed, staring at the red and blue grass.
“I went too far, and you were right to be scared.”
Rafe pressed a kiss to the top of your head, lingering there, telling you the words that brought you temporary relief.
“I forgive you.”
4K notes · View notes
inkskinned · 11 months
Text
there are days that it is hard, and unfair, and some horrible part of me wishes i could have been born in a different world. i love being queer, i hate how others react to it. when i first came out at 15, my mom whispered: please don't say that. your life would be so much harder.
it is harder.
it is also a tuesday, walking my dog. we are both skiving off of work, and yes both of us have dyed hair and pronouns. mine is patchy - it was my first time trying bleach; i didn't have enough. theirs is a resilient toadstool green. a little girl comes up to us and asks um, excuse me? is your hair real? 'cause jason says you're a fairy.
it is sunday brunch, all of us talking over each other, overfull on love. she is trying out a new name today, and we made her a cake with today's name scrawled in shaky purple letters. she laughs so much she cries and then gets frosting in her hair. someone young at a different table keeps giving us these large, wide eyes: the same look we have all been on the other side of. the kind that says, breathless: wait, is that possible?
it is a half-fight in a supermarket because he loves "dance moms" and says abby's tiktok is funny and meanwhile i think the children in that show should be allowed to sue abby lee miller for child abuse. i tell him that it led to the casual acceptance of child harassment for mainly adult views; and then i am standing, suddenly, in someone else's thrown soda. there's a white lady standing there, furious, saying something about hell-on-earth. i had forgotten i was wearing stuff with pride colors. and then it is this: he had just been casually arguing with me - and within an instant, he squares his shoulders and goes after her like i am his sister
on saturday i sat in a circle while beca played with my hair and we were all over 30 and we laughed about how much happier we are being this old, how much more we appreciate our community. 25 minutes from now, we will be on stage to dance in baggy beige clothing, but for now we look on with envy to the dancers in loud-and-bright buttondowns. where are they getting these shirts! i cry, distraught. everyone laughs. one of our friends has a mushroom witch hat. this would have been cringey in high school, probably. instead we are all delighted with each other; happy just to be here and alive and moving
it's that last week my new friends cried with joy for me when they heard i'm getting top surgery. every so often i have the honor of being the first person someone feels comfortable enough to tell. i'm trying to make long fluttery butterfly wings to wear to pride; but i don't know anything about fabric or dye, so my friends have been sending me their personal advice.
i think in a different poem i would talk about how sometimes you walk into a room and put the mask back on. but i'm sleepy and my whole brain is fuzzy so i think in this one, it's a monday, and my dog and i took a nap on a couch, and i had missed texts from friends. i used to wake up lonely. i think this poem is about walking into a room and seeing someone and just knowing, the way you just-know-sometimes, and then giving them that little smile, and seeing them light up with joy and relief. it is how we always seem to be able to find each other in a crowded room. how we always seem to make friends with each other before even we know-it-to-be-true. it is saying: we're very different people; but i belong to you.
it is harder, yes. but it comes with a built-in family.
5K notes · View notes
on-leatheredwings · 2 months
Text
Sleepover
Yandere! Damian Wayne x (Fem!) Reader
romantic > summary: During a sleepover, Damian makes his first foray into infatuation. > word count: 1605 > [ a/n: i just love writing from the yandere’s point of view! Damian is 19 or college-age here. honestly not much plot, just musings~ i will try to write from the Darling’s POV next time hehe.]
Tumblr media
This must be love.
“Wow, Damian… I’ve never noticed but your nails are so pretty,” you compliment, satisfied with the boy’s upkeep. Damian feels his heart thrumming against his ribcage. You are holding his hand. 
Not for the first time either, but the thrill never fades. 
If this had occurred a year ago, before Damian learned of how casual (generous, even!) you were physical affection, he might have dumbly stated, “You’re holding my hand.” Instead, he simply thinks it, on loop, in one long string. 
You’re holding my hand. You’re holding my hand. You’re holding my hand.
Unbeknownst to all this, you simply paint his forefinger with a stripe of green so dark it looks black. 
“If we’re going to do this, it’ll be by my rules,” he had said. 
In reality, if you needled him any harder, he would’ve accepted pink nails with glitter on them. Who cares? There wasn’t anyone who dared to make fun of him at school. Not to mention, it’d be obvious to everyone that you painted them. You'd be marking him as yours, essentially. And at night… well, Robin wears gloves.
“Hn. How so?” Damian asks with feigned coolness. Mainly because he wants to hear you praise him. In your hushed, awed voice. When he dreams, you often sound like that. (And he quickly pushes that thought away.)
You look at him pointedly, grinning. Oh, he’s not so slick. You acquiesce to his whims anyway.
“Your cuticles are impeccable and your nails are finely trimmed… I’m impressed. Don’t you do martial arts, too? Crazy they aren’t more dinged up.”
Martial arts. That was supposed to explain his abnormal strength and fighting capability, the one time you saw him nearly break a man’s wrist for trying to pickpocket you. 
You accepted the excuse with only a little suspicion.
“It’s simple grooming.”
A catlike grin forms on your face. “Hm~ I don’t knowwww… Seems like you may be trying to catch the eye of a girl – you know, girls look at stuff like that.”
Damian frowns. 
He’s infatuated but not delusional. He’s aware this ‘sleepover’ is pretty platonic on your end. After nails, it’ll be skin care. Maybe you’ll even do your makeup and take goofy pictures with him. You’ll laugh and platonically huddle against him during a movie. You may doze off on his shoulder while he’ll be committing your every dewy, moisturized pore to memory. 
Because of Damian’s (self-admitted) social awkwardness with your peers, you think that gives you some sort of elder sibling-esque edge on him. You are the social butterfly, leading a naive, but well-meaning social pariah through the perils of young adult life. You don’t know you are so much more naive than he is, and he adores that.
Rather than addressing the question, he snorts. “When are you going to turn on the movie?”
You hum, completing his nail’s first coat. “Oh yeah, that’s right!” You grab the remote and press play. You continue painting, gingerly admiring his long, golden brown digits. Damian preens at the attention. 
As the movie plays, you pause often to look up and gape at the screen. It’s a horror flick, and boasts an abundance of cartoonish gore. While a bit more sensational than something he’d put on, he likes your dark taste. An annoying teenager gets their head hacked off with a chainsaw. You laugh and Damian feels his heart sing. 
There’s a chime that rings through Wayne Manor, and he has to bite back a groan.
“Pizza’s here!” you cheer. You begin to get up when Damian whips out his card in an instant. 
“I’ll pay.” To his delight, you gape in surprise, cheeks warming. 
“Oh… Thanks, Damian!” You never quite get used to him paying for things, but you at least know by now not to argue. You grab his credit card and – thank God – your fingers brush against each other. It sends the most pleasant trill down his spine. “Since you’re paying, I’ll go bring it! I won’t be long.”
A corner of his lips quirk. “I’ll be pleasantly surprised if it gets back to this room at all.” You stick out your tongue on the way out.
As soon as he hears your footsteps disappear down the hall – such clumsy, loud steps – Damian’s attention falls to the messenger bag you threw to the ground of his bedroom. He knows your diary is in there. (In his mind, he can hear you protest, It’s a journal!)
He’ll be quick. He flips open to a random page, and he already is laughing at your writing style. There’s little care for capitalizing letters and full of what you explained are “emoticons”, despite being handwritten. He flips to today’s entry, half-finished.
February 01. 
there’s a guy in class who’s pretty cute… one may even say HOT xP
Damian’s jaw tightens. He knows exactly who you’re talking about, and he won’t allow that neanderthal anywhere near you. At least, not again. Yesterday, you told him that your crush had smiled at you. Brushed fingers with you when passing papers. In the only class you have without Damian.
(Also, “your crush,” he scoffs. What a juvenile concept. You and Damian share something much deeper. His feelings for you are not so trivial.)
The semester is still young. Damian can pull any string to land himself in your anthropology class.
The rest of your entry for today (and the past days prior) isn’t anything notable except for when he’s mentioned. 
stressful day, but at least i have tonight with damian to cheer me up. he’s seriously the best …. i should tell him more often !!! (but it’d give him an even bigger head)
He doesn’t even attempt to stop the smile splitting his face. 
Damian’s keen hearing catches you striking up a conversation with Alfred in the kitchen. Despite your promise, he knows you will, indeed, take long. You love talking to everyone, even in passing. It’s an admirable quality, and one he envies.
He unlocks your phone and rifles through some messages of yours. He uses his own phone for documentation purposes. What else is there to do… He spies your jacket on his bed.
There is a shameful thought and Damian’s heart skips a beat. It is… frankly, it’s humiliating as a concept. Yet he’s enticed. It’s your jacket, after all. He brings it to his face delicately and inhales, almost shyly. Once he catches the familiar scent of your body wash, however, he allows himself to breathe it in. After being lost in it for a few seconds, he rips it away. 
Only to see his father standing in his doorframe. 
He knows what this looks like. Damian knows what this looks like. After years of working with the man, Damian can hear his thoughts as if they were his own, as they happen. 
Damian just smelled your clothes. Even if it was investigative in nature, he could’ve retrieved a sample some other way. Someone’s personal journal is open on the floor. A phone that he knows is not Damian’s is unlocked and displaying text messages. All these things are splayed out in a circle around him. It’s uncharacteristically messy of him, as well. Damian’s own phone is actively on his camera. Was he taking pictures? And most notable is the absence of you.
In summary? Damian must have some interest in you. And by this sloppy job, it’s quite emotionally charged. And at his age, it’s likely romantic.
Damian’s skin rises to what feels like a boiling heat. What is Father going to say? He can’t stop him – he can’t. Damian doesn’t even want to talk about it, let alone be reprimanded. A feral need to escape bubbles underneath his skin. Despite the panic, he channels years of League training and hardens himself. 
Bruce watches his son’s expression morph from dazed, to fearful, to steel, in real time. From Damian’s seat on the floor he offers his father only silent defiance. Bruce knows his son, his darker needs that stem from his cruel childhood. And perhaps he should’ve expected this to happen someday. Bruce exhales, eyes closing. When they reopen, his slate-grey eyes are firm and hard. 
“No one gets hurt.”
And by that, Bruce means no one dies. Because Bruce and Damian are Batman and Robin – they’re all in the business of hurting people. People who deserve it, yes, but it’s still hurt. Pain.
Damian feels immense relief. He wouldn’t have killed his father – he’s not that boy anymore. But a life without you seems similarly unbearable. Damian feels… shaken. He doesn’t know what he would’ve done. He also feels grateful, that it didn’t turn out any other way. 
His eyes drop to the jacket he holds in a fist.
“... Yes. Thank you, Father.” Bruce’s gaze lingers, but he leaves wordlessly.
This encounter reminds Damian of who he is. He is a detective, vigilante, assassin, and creature of stealth. He can’t be this careless, even if he knows you won’t notice. 
Damian returns your belongings to their place, exactly how you left it. Diary back in your bag, jacket to where you were lounging, your phone underneath a pillow, because you carelessly tossed it aside. You’ll inevitably begin to look for it and he’ll grin once he places it in your hand.
You finally return to his room, two pizza boxes of deluxe cheese (for him) and pepperoni (for you) in your arms. You laugh sheepishly. 
“Sorry for the wait, Dami.” His heart skitters at the nickname.
“It’s fine.” Your eyes glitter with excitement and optimism and purity. He finds it hard to look away, you raining down a gaze like that upon him.
“I was waiting for you.”
1K notes · View notes
whathorselegs · 2 months
Text
So we all know this scene, right?
Tumblr media
And we know how Dazai tries to handle it by pretending to be a scared kid and Chuuya interrupts him to challenge the guy to a fight, because I have been thinking about these tactics recently.
Dazai is not really mafia at this point, this is his first mission. He's still somewhat naive to the world of gangs, even if he's witnessed it, he's not lived it like Chuuya has. This tactic of acting like a scared little kid, definitely feels like something Dazai pulled when trying to get away with things around regular adults. I mean, look how easily he turns on those tears, it's practiced, he's used to it working.
He's responding to what the guy is saying, he calls them "kids" and looks confused as to why kids are here. Dazai then selects the defenceless innocent act as a way to get out of being held at gun point and possibly get information.
Tumblr media
He's used to this kind of thing working, but the fact is, if Chuuya hadn't interrupted him, it most likely wouldn't of. Because Dazai doesn't know the type of enemy he's up against, he doesn't know these people are willing to cross the line and harm kids yet.
Look at these panels closely. The panel before Dazai starts faking crying the gun is pointed directly at him,
Tumblr media
whilst he starts his crying act in the panels previously mentioned, the gun is still squarely on him, and afterwards
Tumblr media
In the top panel it is still pointing at him, until Chuuya speaks. His tactic isn't working. The enemy never wavers or lowers his gun, he either doesn't believe Dazai or doesn't care.
Chuuya sees that. He sees the gun still pointing at Dazai. He looks annoyed in the first panel above because this man, as far as he knows, is pointing a gun at an innocent kid.
And as soon as Chuuya speaks, the gun shifts to him. Chuuya, King of Sheep, protector and shield. A boy so used to defending those weaker than him, he smiles when he's able to get the attention of a man holding a gun. As far as Chuuya is concerned at this point, Dazai might as well be as defenceless as the rest of The Sheep. Sure, he has his ability No Longer Human, but what good is that against a grown man with a gun? So Chuuya defends him the same way he defends his friends.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
And he makes sure to keep that attention on him whilst he tests this man. Yeah, we know he puts his head to the gun to transfer his ability, but I also think it's important that Chuuya waits in this moment. He doesn't just take this guy out because of a perceived threat, he waits until it's confirmed. Chuuya doesn't throw the first punch because Chuuya doesn't start fights, he fights back. Just like The Sheep said, he hits their enemies back a thousand times harder.
Dazai complains Chuuya interrupted him here, but Dazai was completely out of his depth in this moment. Chuuya didn't ruin his plan, he saved his life.
1K notes · View notes
srjlvr · 4 months
Text
[ LET’S GET MARRIED ! ] — lhs <3
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
PAIRING. lee heeseung!student X femreader!student !
SYN. the uni is giving away free dorms! under one condition, in order to save your desperate broke ass student’s life, you’d have to get married. and who’d be the lucky person to marry you if not your childhood friend? no feelings involved of course!…..right?
GENRE. he fell first but she fell harder, basically being in denial for feelings at first, childhood friends to a married couple, fluff fluff fluff !
WARNINGS. mentions of getting married(obv), rest of enha and lesserafim’s yunjin & chaewon are in it too, mentions on having kids(no, there will be no kids here its nothing serious!!), mentions of food, being broke because of uni student life. (pls do lmk if i missed something!) || NOT PROOFREAD AND VERY POORLY WRITTEN!!
WORD-COUNT. 5.1k+ (damn!)
NOTE. this is me being extremely sorry for not continuing my heeseung smau by releasing a heeseung oneshot yay!! i actually got the inspiration from HAPPINESS (one of my fav kdramas!) please leave some feedbacks!! i really wanna know what you thought about it<3
Tumblr media
when you were younger, you’ve made a wishing list to you in the future, as soon as you turn an adult.
three important wishes were ;
first, never go broke while being a uni student.
second, never get married before the age of 25.
third, never ever fall in love with your best friend since childhood, aka lee heeseung.
first one is already being a huge failure. younger you would be definitely disappointed in uni student you, not that you care that much, but being a broke student sucks.
“my parents are literally about to kick me out, i get that, i’m a 22 years old uni student who’s still living up their asses, they probably want some peaceful and quiet life” you smacked your head over the lunch table, both of your friends looking at you concerned.
“maybe it’s time for you to pay for the dor-“
“never! yunjin, tell her how broke i am”
“she has like 1 dollar in her bank account, she’s still taking loans from her parents” yunjin nodded and you rolled your eyes.
“you didn’t have to go that far”
“oh i did”
“oh i know! what if you just start working?” chaewon raised her voice a bit.
“i have no time!”
“excuses excuses blah blah blah” she mocked you.
“look at heeseung for example, he works in a part time job at the convenience store right next to uni” yunjin pointed out.
you searched through the lunch hall and found the one person you’ve been looking for, lee heeseung.
you’ve been stuck to him ever since childhood, with your mothers being the biggest best friends you’ve ever seen, it was pretty hard to not see him every day in your young days.
both of your mothers even got pregnant at the same time, and gave birth around the same time, you’re two days younger than him.
your photo album is full with pictures of you and him, and so are the hanged photos on your house wall.
your mother and his mother were your biggest shippers, forcing you both to hug each other and even wear matching clothes.
your elementary school memories are filled with heeseung next to you and the whole class shipping you two.
highschool days weren’t better either, guys who wanted to try a move on you were always so scared of heeseung, they were so sure you and him are dating, with the amount of glares they got from him it was really hard to think otherwise.
your highschool crushes rejected you, always giving the excuse of not wanting to be in a relationship, hiding the fact that heeseung warned them that if they’ll say yes he’ll make sure they never see a daylight again.
he was joking, really. he’s not the violent type, and he couldn’t really explain why was he feeling so jealous whenever he saw you confessing to a guy who isn’t him.
heeseung got used to watching you from afar and protecting you, and you got used to search him everywhere you go even in crowded places and having his company ever since childhood.
“hee!” you called and waved at him, he waved at you back with a smile on his face.
“i swear if i didn’t know both of you were childhood friends i would’ve think you’re a married couple or something” chaewon rolled her eyes and you scoffed.
heeseung continued his way to his usual table with his friends.
“thinking about ways to confess your love to her?” jake smirked and heeseung shook away his thoughts.
“hm? who?” he asked.
“it’s obvious who! don’t play dumb come on!” sunghoon playfully pushed the older one.
“we’re talking about Y/N! everyone in uni are talking about you, even those who know nothing about the two of you” jay remarked.
“there’s nothing between us, we’re just friends” heeseung shrugged.
“and i’m queen elizabeth” sunoo tsked.
heeseung rolled his eyes and began to eat, “you know, even if i did have a crush on her, why would she even accept my confession?”
“ohhhh~” his friends teased.
“it’s kind of obvious she likes you, we’ve watched her ever since we became friends with you, and the way she looks at you is just different” jungwon shrugged and ni-ki nodded.
“she’s always searching you in a crowded room, as if you’re her guardian angel and she only needs you in her life in order for it to be perfect” ni-ki then stole a few bites of heeseung’s meal.
“hey! not cool” heeseung scoffed and ni-ki giggled.
“it’s not bad to have a crush on your childhood friend, you know?” jake smiled, “sometimes all you need is a miracle” jay added.
“hey, let’s go on a work search for yo-“
“no no no yunjin not you too!!” you sobbed, “i have no time to work and i need to search for the cheapest dorm, a one i can actually afford as soon as possible”
“why don’t you just go and ask heeseung for help” chaewon shrugged.
“it’s not that easy, i don’t want him to worry about it too much, he works hard for his money too” you pout and they nodded.
“by the way! how’s the money for the uni dorms is going?” jake asked heeseung who was busy fighting with ni-ki over his food.
“i’m just a few shifts away from getting enough money, i’ll ask y/n to become my roommate as soon as— what?” he noticed his friends looking at him.
“y/n and you? being roommates?” sunoo teased.
“hey, me and y/n spent all our childhood together, my house is her house and her house is mine, it has been like that for a while” heeseung sighed and they all nodded hesitatly.
“still, you said y/n’s parents told you about her not being able to pay for the uni dorms, are you really willing to pay it all?” jungwon asked.
heeseung shrugged and took a bite from his food again, “it’s either that or she’ll get kicked out by her parents”
“you really are her guardian angel” ni-ki whispered.
“good morning! you have afternoon classes today right?” your mother woke you up with a smile smeared all over her face.
“mhhm” you hummed, still trying to adjust the bright sunlight that hit your face.
“i need you to bring some medicine for ms lee! she’s been sick and i bought her some things” your mother helped you to get up and shoved you a bag, “here”
“can you please just let me get—“
“you can get ready at theirs! quickly quickly go!” she pushed you outside of your house. damn, she really does hope you’d get out as soon as possible.
she was right though, heeseung’s house is your house, and your house is his. you have a few clothes and even a toothbrush at his house and he has the same at yours, getting ready there was never a problem to you.
a walk to their house is even less than 5 minutes so you weren’t worried about someone from your neighborhood getting a jumpscare and thinking you’re some kind of a zombie.
you took out the keys and opened the door, heeseung was sitting in the kitchen and eating his breakfast.
“don’t ask, been a rough morning, where’s mom by the way?” you asked him and he pointed at her room. you got used to call his mom your mom too.
you saw her sleeping so you left the bag and the medicine next to her, leaving a note saying good morning and instructions of how to take the medicine, as if she doesn’t know all of that.
“you have afternoon classes too?” you asked heeseung while getting ready. he was in his room, lying on his bed while playing some games on his phone.
“not really, i don’t have any class today” he chuckled.
“since when don’t you have any classes today?”
“ever since i decided that im too tired to go to uni”
you rolled your eyes and threw one of the pillows at him, “don’t be stupid! get up and get ready to go!”
he giggled and shook his head, “i’m joking, i took evening classes for today”
you pressed your lips together and nodded, you don’t know why but hearing him giggling always made your heart skip a beat, but you don’t have any feelings for him, like, at all. right?
afternoon classes started and before you knew it, it was already lunch time.
“y/n! you won’t believe it!!” chaewon shout.
“what is it?” you shout at her back even though you were sitting right in front of her.
“i found you a solution! you can get a free dorm!” she shout back.
“what!” you shout.
“can you stop shouting! for god’s sake you’re literally a 1 cm away from each other” yunjin, who was covering her ears yelled.
you and chaewon shared an eye contact and froze. yunjin is so scary when she’s angry.
“continue please” she coughed and let chaewon continue what she had to say.
“it might seem crazy what i’m about to say,” chaewon sighed, “the uni is giving away free dorms—“
“no way omg omg omg please tell me i’m dreaming this is not happening right now right this is not real righ—“
“under one condition!” she cut you off and took her phone out of her pocket to read the terms.
“in order to get a free dorm, you have to have at least one option applied ;
one, you’re younger than 18. two, you’ve been scoring A+ on ALL of your exams and three, you’re between the ages 18-25 and got married, or engaged” she finished reading and turned off her phone.
“but chaewon, i’m not younger than eighteen” you complained and rest your head on your arm who was lying on the table.
“nor scoring A+ on ALL of your exams” yunjin added.
“thanks yunjin, i needed that”
“always here to help”
“then you know what’s left” chaewon smirked and you sat up, looking at her with innocent eyes.
“no” you let out.
“oh yes”
“i have no one to marry to” you argued.
“yes you do!” yunjin replied.
“i do not!”
chaewon and yunjin raised a brow and crossed their arms, “you don’t?”
as heeseung entered the uni entrance, you ran towards his direction and stopped in front of him.
“y/n why are you still here—“
“let’s get married” you said it out loud in front of everyone who was around.
your surroundings suddenly became quiet and everyone was staring at you two, starting to whisper and waiting for heeseung’s answer.
instead of answering he grabbed your wrist and dragged you out of the entrance into a place in the garden next to the uni.
the walk there was making you so nervous and anxious, what if you were a bit too much? asking your childhood friend to marry you just to get a free dorm? are you that desperate?
when he finally stopped, he let go of your wrist and cupped your cheeks, looking straight into your eyes.
“what did you say?” he asked, his eyes looking for any sign or answer from you.
“i said, let’s get married”
heeseung could’ve swore his heart skipped a beat because he for real felt like he died at that spot.
“let me explain!” you said before he could respond.
“the uni are giving out free dorms to anyone who’s between the ages of 18-25 and is married or engaged” you sighed.
heeseung let go of his hold and sighed, looking down and closing his eyes.
you really didn’t mean that genuinely, did you? something in him really hoped you did.
“hee?” you asked, biting your lower lips, suddenly feeling more anxious than before
“sure, let’s get married” he chuckled.
you broke your second main wish on your list.
heeseung was just a few shifts away from getting enough money to get the both of you a place to live in, he could have told you that too, but he chose not to.
only crazy people would agree to this idea, you were so desperate that you actually just asked him to marry you, and he guessed he was one of those crazy people, because he had no idea why he said yes.
he had other way, without marrying you, but something about the idea of marrying you made him feel excited.
“i knew it i knew it! only crazy people would agr— wait what” you blinked a few times after you realized his answer.
“i said sure, let’s get married” he smiled softly and you were about to faint.
“no feelings are involved….right?” you hesitantly asked him, hoping he wouldn’t agree with you.
instead, he nodded slowly and hesitantly, “no feelings involved”
you regretted that sentence so bad because the day after, when he kneeled on one knee and held a ring out for you in front of everyone and proposed to you, your couldn’t lie to yourself anymore, you actually broke your third wish on your list a few years ago, you were in love with lee heeseung for years.
“y/l/n y/n, i have loved you ever since i can remember, i watched you grow up and grew up with you as well, i got used to being with you 24/7, i can’t see the rest of my life without you in it, will you make me the happiest man alive and agree to marry me?”
even though it was an act(according to you), it felt so real to the point where you cried and sobbed so badly, while putting on the ring he bought for you less than 24 hours ago.
it wasnt planned. the proposal wasn’t planned at all.
the plan was that you and heeseung will go to the uni secretariat and request an application for the free dorm since both of you are engaged now.
heeseung had no reason to put on this whole show and show everyone that you’re now engaged. you have no idea why he did it, and instead of getting angry at him, you fell in love with him even more.
it felt wrong, it felt not right.
but you didn’t care, you always knew your feelings for heeseung were somewhere deep inside your heart. you tried to push them away all the time, because there was no way your childhood friend, the popular boy in your highschool, the kid who grew up with you, had feelings for you.
you tried to deny your feelings but now you realized thrre was no use anymore, so you let yourself love him as much as you can.
it wasn’t the desperation that lead you to ask him to marry you, because then you’d ask literally any other guy, it was your pure love to him, to the guy who was always there for you when you needed him.
“heeseung! explain what was that!” his six other friends gathered in a circle, surrounding him and not letting him go.
“what was wha—“
“you and y/n? married?” jungwon shout.
“have you gone crazy?” jake added.
“and she said yes! something is not right” jay joined.
“yesterday you told us you have no feelings for her!” sunoo remarked.
“you didn’t even believe us when we told you she’s obviously in love with you” sunghoon tsked.
“something isn’t sitting right to me” ni-ki gasped.
“explain now!” they all said at the same time.
“calm down!” heeseung coughed, “i’ll explain to you everything later”
by later he meant after classes, at his house, together with you and your friends yunjin and chaewon.
“yunjin, chaewon” heeseung nodded at your friends.
“lee heeseung” they glared at him.
“come on! both of you knew about it even before” you pleaded.
“doesn’t change the fact that he’ll be stealing you from us now” they rolled their eyes.
“i’m still so confused” ni-ki tried to quicken everyone and get to the point.
“me and y/n are getting married—“
“yeah no shit sherlock” sunghoon cute him off and heeseung glared at him.
“anyway, y/n would you like the explain why?” he turned to you and smiled.
“the uni is giving away free dorms to married couples between 18-25 so—“
“you decided to get married to get a free dorm” jay finished your sentence.
“have you gone mad? heeseung worked his ass to get enough money to get the dorms for the bo— mhhhhmmm!!!” sunoo roamed but jake covered his mouth before he could continue.
“sunoo!!” jake coughed and turned to you with a smile, “don’t mind him he’s been stressed from work and uni lately”
the rest of you giggled awkwardly and tried to ease the atmosphere.
after you yunjin and chaewon left, the boys stayed with heeseung, looking at him with concern.
“what?” heeseung looked at them back with his bambi eyes.
“i don’t know hee, it feels like….she’s kind of using you” sunghoon spoke, jay slapped his arm and he whined.
“he’s right though, marrying you only to get a dorm is quite crazy” jungwon nodded.
“he’s even crazier for actually agreeing to all of this” ni-ki said and jake shushed him.
“ni-ki is right, i am crazy, i have no idea why i said yes but she wasn’t forcing anything on me” heeseung shrugged, “besides, i’ve liked her for so many years so—“
“ah ha!! we knew it!” they all said at the same time and heeseung sighed. what have he got himself into?
after everyone left, heeseung texted you, asking you to meet him in your usual spot.
you got ready and for the first time, you took a while to do so.
you stared at yourself in the mirror a few times and even checked different outfits. this has never happened to you ever before, especially not when you knew that you’re going to see heeseung.
heeseung saw you at your worst, why are you dressing up for him now then?
“i must be crazy, crazy crazy!” you shook away your thoughts and got out to meet your soon-to-be-husband.
“hee!” you saw his back facing you and as soon as he turned around you froze.
did he dress up for you too? why does he look so breathtaking suddenly? his bambi eyes match the rest of his beautiful features on his face so much, you’ve seen this man grow up, you know every detail about his face and you couldn’t explain why it was so sudden that you got caught by surprise because of his beauties.
shaking away your thoughts, you walked closer to him and smiled.
“hey hubby” you grinned.
“hubby?” he asked.
“a new nickname for my soon-to-be-husband” you chuckled and he nodded.
“i actually thought about something,” he turned to you, “our parents will figure it out sooner or later, should we tell them the truth or—“
“no, let them believe we’re getting married without any reason other than being in love”
you have no idea why you just said that. but you hid your face as soon as you realized what just came out of your mouth.
heeseung felt too flattered and suddenly didn’t know what to say. you keep on making him speechless.
“ahem,” he cleared his throat, “you do know that they’ll probably rush out things and even take the wedding plan to their own hands“
i don’t care, i’d like to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you as soon as i can. is what you wanted to say, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so.
“y/n?” he asked. he noticed you were too deep in thoughts and waited for you to come back to sense.
“i’m aware” you nodded, “i’ve also got a text from the uni, we’ll be getting our dorm in the next week, so we should start preparing”
heeseung nodded and looked at you. you were suddenly feeling so nervous and shy to share an eye contact with him, so you broke it as he just kept staring at you and taking in your beauty.
“hey y/n” he said, “hm?”
“i don’t mind marrying you and spending the rest of my life being married to you”
you looked over him and he had the genuinest smile you’ve ever seen.
it felt like the world had froze, and the snow that was falling suddenly stopped, it felt like it was just the two of you in this whole world.
“YOU’RE GETTING WHAT?” your mother yelled.
you and heeseung planned a dinner with both of your parents, to announce the big news.
things became quite awkward between the two of you, ever since your last encounter with him you could barely face him.
his sudden confession freaked you out and the only thing that came out of your mouth was “oh, okay” in the most dry way ever.
you wanted to tell him you feel the same, you wanted to tell him that you’ve been in love with him ever since forever. but one moment that caught you off guard ruined your chance.
you were stupid, stupid and idiot. heeseung probably thinks you hate his guts now.
heeseung in the meantime felt like he was breaking apart slowly. oh, okay?? that’s all you had to answer?
he felt dumb, he felt hopeless. the confession was completely out of the blue and unplanned, your beauty hypnotized him and he was so mesmerized by you that the words just came out of his mouth naturally.
what if you hate his guts now? what if he made you uncomfortable? what if you’ll regret it the last minute because you weren’t feeling the same about him?
all of those questions were eating him alive, and you didn’t help either. each time he came up to you, you were suddenly in rush and told him you have to go, it was breaking him inside slowly.
the dinner was one chance to finally talk with you again.
“married, mom. we’re getting married” you repeat what you already said a few seconds ago.
“when? where? how?” heeseung’s mother asked.
heeseung looked at you and smiled warmly, “it just happened, we’ve been together ever since childhood, it already felt like being in a relationship for so long, so we decided to marry each other” he chuckled and held your hand tightly, “to belong to each other until the day we die”
your parents looked at the both of you. you were sharing eye contact for so long, with heeseung smiling at you, looking deep into your eyes, and with you looking at him with nothing but pure love in your eyes that was making everyone in the room feel so jealous of you two.
“now kiss!” your mother said.
you and heeseung broke the eye contact and blinked a few times.
“what?” you asked.
“kiss then! i want to picture it and keep it in my photo gallery forever!” his mother added.
you were about to speak up until heeseung held your cheek to turn you to face him and it was only a matter of seconds until you felt his lips on yours.
it was your first kiss ever, your first time kissing someone, and it was his as well, but he lead you on so good that it made it look less awkward.
you were his first kiss. you, his childhood friend, stole his first kiss.
“we knew that it’ll happen one day!!” your mothers cheered, “we even have a whole wedding plan ready!!”
you and heeseung broke the kiss and shared an eye contact again.
you didn’t need to hear him say to know how much love he holds for you, and how he cherishes you so much.
and your eyes told him everything, they held the answers to all of the questions that bothered him. you love him as much as he loves you.
“i can’t believe you’re getting married, my little angels” your parents cried altogether which made heeseung let go of his hold on you and grab some tissues to wipe their tears.
“i love that ring by the way! heeseung you did a great job” your mother gave him thumbs up and he chuckled.
if only she knew that it was a ring he bought you in less than 24 hours and even rushed your friends to come with him and help him pick it only because he wanted his whole life to properly propose you.
it was a moving day already and your parents helped you pack every last thing, they even cried through the way, how could their princess leave them so fast?
“you can visit our house anytime!” you tried to comfort them.
“we’ll update you before that, we don’t want to catch you while doing the thing you know” your mother winked and you rolled your eyes, “mom!”
“i see you’re all packed and ready” heeseung came in to check on you.
“she is! take her away already!” your mother complained.
“not before you take this with you!” she went away for a few seconds and came back with a huge wrapped photo frame.
“don’t open it yet!! only when you get into your new house and get everything in place!!” she excitedly hugged the both of you and you nodded.
moving in was quite rough, you had a lot of boxes to unpack and organized, and you and heeseung never felt more awkward after the first kiss you shared.
you’ve barely spoke with each other and your friends were starting to get concerned.
“he told me he doesn’t mind marrying me and spending the rest of his life with me” you pout.
yunjin and chaewon shout and giggled, “girl! he’s more than in love with you!! he’s lovesick!!” they both said.
“what did you answer then?” yunjin asked.
“i told him okay” you smacked your head on the table.
“no way” chaewon gasped.
“yes way” you whined.
“you’re stupid!!” they both smacked you.
“then!!” you shout, “we had our first kiss on dinner in front of our parents” you whispered that part.
“what did you say? couldn’t hear you” chaewon said.
“oh she said that they shared their first kiss on dinner with their— YOU HAD YOUR FIRST KISS WITH HEESEUNG??” yunjin’s eyes widened.
“what happened after that?” chaewon asked curiously.
“we just finished dinner, and now we barely even talk” you sighed, “each time i see him i’m just blushing and running away, i can’t face him!”
“you have to!! you’re moving in soon!!” yunjin argued and chaewon nodded.
“it’ll be the death of me” you sobbed and they chuckled.
you were right at first, but slowly and surely heeseung made a joke and both of you got back to normal in no time, as if nothing happened between you two.
you even helped him organizing his closet and his room, and he did the same.
after a long day you and heeseung finally laid down on your now shared sofa.
“it’s been a rough day” you sighed.
“should we order something?” he suggested and you nodded immediately. you ended up ordering your favorite food.
“let’s open up the picture!!” you said and grabbed the picture your mom gave you earlier today.
you and heeseung both unwrapped it together and revealed an old picture of you and heeseung hugging each other with a huge smile on your faces.
“look at us then and look at us now” he giggled.
both of you hanged the picture right above your sofa and kept staring at it for a while.
“hey hee,” you spoke, “yeah?”
“i wouldn’t mind marrying you and spending the rest of my days with you too” you turned to him, “until the day i die”
“is that your way of telling me you love me too?” heeseung froze for a second. you caught him off guard for the countless time already.
although he understood very clearly your feelings after you shared your first kiss, hearing your words made his heart beat fast.
it was a confirmation for him that all of his feelings for you were actually mutual all this time.
instead of answering his questions you grabbed his shirt and kissed him.
he put his hands around your waist and pushed you closer to him, holding you tightly as if he’s too scared to let you go.
breaking off the kiss was hard, but the lack of oxygen was kicking in, you pressed your foreheads together, still with your eyes closed.
“does that answer your question?” you giggled and you felt him smiling.
“i don’t think so, i need a bit more of it to feel certain” he teased and you tsked.
“i don’t need to be in a relationship with you to feel certain about my feelings and my willingness to marry you, i want to spend my life with you, i love you” you said and pecked his lips.
“i love you too, y/n” he pecked your lips again and it suddenly got into a fight between you two about who pecks the other more, until it ended up in a long, deep kiss.
“so let me get this straight. you and heeseung had been in denial for many many years and manipulated yourself into thinking that you don’t like each other at all at all, then when y/n’s desperate and broke ass heard of a chance to get a free dorm by getting married, she went up to you, heeseung, and asked her to marry you, you agreed to the proposal because at one point you stopped lying to yourself and realized you’re actually lovesick, and the rest is history” ni-ki finally breathed out after almost rapping this whole story.
“by history i mean y/n waking up from her denial and realizing her feelings to you” he added.
“yes, exactly” heeseung nodded and you chuckled.
you were sitting together with your friends on one table, yunjin and chaewon who were already aware of the story added a few notes here and there as ni-ki summarized your whole story.
“this is a story to tell your children” jay smiled and the rest nodded.
“we’re not planning to get pregnant anytime soon, we didn’t even have a wedding yet” you sighed.
“you never know y/n, you never know!” sunoo slowly nodded.
“why did you say that as if you went through something familiar” jungwon teased.
“you never know y/n, you never know!” sunghoon mocked sunoo.
“that was a good one!” jake laughed with him.
“children, literal children who found themselves in uni somehow” you sighed.
“at this point we won’t even need to have any children when we have them” heeseung agreed with you.
“it doesn’t matter, as long as i’m with you” you smiled and pecked his lips.
“get a room you two will you!”
Tumblr media
PERM TAG-LIST ; @sungwhoonz @ohdudehesflirting @unlikelysublimekryptonite @deobiis @manooffline @miumiuoi @in-somnias-world @lovelovelovebts @filmofhybe @wonbinsnovia @daegutowns @aurumiee @soobywon @dhriti-stories @ariadores @firstclassjaylee @watamotee33 @moons-v (bold means cannot be tagged)
••• copyright © srjlvr all rights are reserved.
2K notes · View notes
cecilysobsessions · 1 year
Text
PURPLE HYACINTH (m.) | zuko
↬ word count: 12k
↬ fem!reader, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, “where is my wife?” line, zuko falls first and falls harder, reader & zuko are adults, some parts are from zuko’s pov
↬ summary: being the daughter of a powerful governor in the fire nation, you are married off to the new fire lord zuko. to the public, the two of you are madly in love. behind closed doors, you and zuko can’t stand each other. but you can fuck each other
↬ genre: fluff / smut smut smutty smut smut
↬ warnings: reader & zuko hate each other in the beginning, reader gets poisoned, assassination attempt, zuko likes being choked, oral sex (m.receiving & f.receiving), zuko is a slut in the bedroom, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, swearing, typos
↬ a/n: waiting on season 3 live action zuko glow up 🤞
m.list
Tumblr media
•••
“Tell me again,” Zuko breathes into the kiss.
“What?”
“Tell me you hate me.” he pulls away for a moment and waits for you.
“I hate you.”
“I love you.” he responds breathlessly, smashing his lips against yours. This time he’s impatient, kissing you like he’s running out of time or like you’re going to be taken away and this is his last moment with you.
•••
You take a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself. Was Zuko always this loud of a chewer? Seriously, in this entire large dining room, where he is sitting several feet away from you across the table, you can still hear him chewing on his stupid steak. Zuko was a loud chewer, a lousy cook, and an even lousier husband. 
It has been nearly a year since the two of you wed in an arranged marriage and you’ve hated every second of it since those stupid wedding bells went off. Your father was a governor in the Fire Nation, and often helped out Zuko with his royal duties. Him and Zuko’s uncle Iroh were good friends, and when it came time for Zuko to find a wife, you just so happen to be at the right age of marrying and available. Although you had fought and protested the marriage, once your father made a decision, he would never go back on it. Even if the decision was to marry off his daughter to the new Fire Lord.
You hated everything about being royalty. From the fancy parties and charities to all the socializing you were required to engage in with old conservative firebending weirdos, to the stupid sham wedding and fake kisses with Zuko. Sure, it was nice living in the palace and having people cook for you and dress you up in pretty clothes, but you hated everything else. You hated socializing and partying, you hated being the Fire Lord’s wife, and you hated all the dumb royal duties you were required to do. It would be a lot easier to do all these things if you actually liked Zuko, but everything about him irked you.
He may have found himself during his teenage years, but he was still easily angered and hard headed. Not to mention he was still moping around and crying about his ex, Mai. She had already moved on and found someone new, but you knew Zuko was still upset he had messed up their relationship. Even though every time you confronted him about it he denied it, you were so sure he was still hurting from it and thinking about it. The blank stares and passing looks he gave to her with a softness in his eyes he had never given you made it so obvious he was lying. And even though you didn’t harbor any sort of romantic feelings for him, it still hurt that he was looking at Mai like that and thinking of her.
From the start of his reign, Zuko wanted Mai to be his wife, and not you, for very obvious reasons. It helped that he liked her and had already had history with her, so when you showed up and people were telling him that he was marrying you and not Mai, he had blamed it on you. He knew it would be better for his duty to put his feelings aside and marry you out of convenience, but he hated the idea of marrying someone he didn’t love. Being with someone he didn’t love.
“Zuko,” you started, trying hard to keep yourself from slamming your silverware on the dining table. “Will you please stop chewing so loudly?” you ask politely.
“I’m not chewing loudly.”
“Yes, you are.”
“You can’t even hear me! You’re sitting so far away from me!” his voice echoed through the large room.
“Exactly. I’m sitting so far away from you, but I can still fucking hear you.” you emphasized, rolling your eyes.
“Well, if it bothers you that much, feel free to eat somewhere else.”
You could practically feel your blood pressure rising. “Oh please, you think I haven’t tried doing that before? Your stupid advisors won’t let me eat anywhere else because we’re married, so we should be eating together.”
“Then stop complaining.”
“Maybe stop chewing so damn loudly and I won't complain.” you sigh, angrily blowing a stray strand of hair out of your face. You were beginning to feel heated and upset. All you wanted to do was eat your dinner in peace and go back to your bedroom, but his stupid loud chewing and stupid stubbornness just had to get in the way.
A familiar silence entered the room and you took in another breath, deciding to try and quickly finish your food so that you could just leave. There was no point in trying to fight with Zuko; you wouldn’t get what you want anyway.
“Do you ever stop sighing?” Zuko asked, and you felt something snap inside of you. You stood up abruptly, the steak knife you were using to cut your food flying towards his face. You had thrown the knife at him in anger, and hoped that it would hit him. Unfortunately, his fast reaction helped him and he moved to the side, swiftly avoiding your fast knife.
“What a shame,” you pushed out your chair and it squeaked against the polished floors. “I could’ve given you another scar on your stupid face.” you began making your way towards the door.
“Maybe if you had better aim you could’ve,” he replied, calmly going back to munching on his food as your eye twitched in annoyance.
•••
You couldn’t sleep. You had spent the last half hour tossing and turning and you still couldn’t fall asleep. Irritated, you decided that you were going to take a walk around the palace gardens to help calm you. In the time you’ve spent at the palace gardens so far, you began to make an effort to learn more about the plants and flowers and their meanings. You began to find it interesting the many messages you could send to someone through flowers, and hoped that someday you’d get a meaningful message through flowers from someone. 
You had thrown a robe over your light and sheer nightgown, and headed to the gardens. Since coming to the place, the gardens have been the only place of peace for you. This was the only space that didn’t have guards wandering around its perimeter 24/7 so that you could have a little privacy. You breathed in the crisp midnight air as you opened the gate at the entrance. You had been walking around and smelling the flowers when you heard a faint voice. 
Zuko. 
“Please,” you heard him plead to someone, and you hid behind a small bush nearby in hopes to hear more of the conversation. If there was one thing you were going to do, it was snoop. The palace had so much drama going on between the staff and royal members of the family, it was impossible to keep your nose out of it.
“Don’t leave,” he continued and you knew exactly who he was talking to. Mai.
You had never heard Zuko speak so softly and gently to someone it was almost as if it was out of character for him. Or maybe he just always spoke to you with such hatred and annoyance.
“No,” you heard her reply. “Is this seriously what you called me out here for? Get a life, Zuko. I’m leaving.”
Wait, that was it? That was everything she was going to say to him? You quietly chuckled to yourself; Mai sounded so over it and annoyed you were almost embarrassed for Zuko. When you saw her leave the gardens, you noticed Zuko sit on a nearby bench. Smiling to yourself, you took the opportunity to poke fun at him and make him feel bad. Who cares if it’s mean? It made you happy, and that’s all that matters really.
“What a pathetic loser,” you stepped out from your hiding bush and he turned to face you, his face furrowed in anger and annoyance. 
“What are you doing here?! Did you overhear all that?!” his voice was back to his normal angry tone.
“Not all of it, just the end.” you sat down next to him. “What, were you begging for her to come back to you? Begging for her to love you again? Oh you poor thing, maybe if you weren’t such a horrible boyfriend, she wouldn’t have left you.” you teased arrogantly, looking up to watch the moon.
“You don’t know anything about love.” he grumbled. “You threw a knife at me during dinner. And that’s not what I was doing. I wasn’t asking her to come back to me.”
“Uh huh. I wouldn’t have thrown a knife at you if I loved you. I did it because you deserve it. And anyway, what would people think if they saw you and her together?”
“Nobody saw.”
“Oh, but I did.”
“You’re a nobody.”
“I’m a nobody?” you laughed sarcastically. “As far as everyone knows, I’m the Fire Lord’s wife. What would people think of you if word got out that you were meeting your ex-lover in the middle of the night even though your first year marriage anniversary is coming up? Imagine what people would think and say about you…” you trailed off, you were sure he got the message. 
You weren’t warning him of his careless actions because you cared about him, but because you cared about yourself and yourself only. If this did come out and people would start gossiping, the people would start pitying you and feeling bad. You already didn’t like that you were only known as the Fire Lord’s wife, so you’d feel even more annoyed if you were known as the Fire Lord’s poor wife who got cheated on.
He was quiet, which meant he knew you were right. Although you and Zuko never got along, he knew when to admit defeat. And he did so with silence. After taking a moment to think to himself, he finally broke the silence.
“Why are you even here anyways? Stalker much?” he eyed your pajamas. “And you’re out here in your nightgown? Go back inside!”
“What? I’m wearing a robe, you can’t even see anything!”
“You idiot, if someone sees us, they might think we’re fucking in the gardens.”
“HA! Please, I’d rather jump off a cliff than fuck you. And if you’re so aware that anybody can see us, you should’ve taken that into consideration before you brought your ex here. Dumbass.” you stood up, quickly turning away from him and walking away before he could say anything.
Zuko’s eyes followed you as he watched you step away, his eyes dropping down to the slight sway of your hips as you walked. “Pfft,” he said to himself as he rolled his eyes. “She walks so arrogantly.” he whispered before forcing his eyes to look somewhere else.
•••
It was that time of the year again. A stupid Fire Nation festival called Sparring Day, or whatever. Essentially, it was just a festival where the best firebenders of the nation put on a show and play with fire and pretend to fight each other for charity. The proceeds for the tickets went to charity and although that was the only part you liked about it, you dreaded going. Sure, this was the first time you were attending as a member of the royal family, but you still hated when your parents dragged you to the festival every previous year. Aside from the charity part (the only good part), it was mostly just a bunch of old lame shirtless dudes throwing fire at each other.
This year though, was different. It was Zuko’s first year where he participated in the festival himself. You thought the festival was supposed to be for the best of the best, so why the hell was Zuko going to be in it? Sure, the original benders of Fire, the dragons, passed down the way of firebending to him and Aang, but that didn’t mean he was good, or whatever. He still sucked ass, in your opinion. Maybe you’re not one to be saying this since you’re not a bender, but you were Zuko’s number one hater.
You were sitting on the stands in the audience with the Avatar and his friends, frantically fanning yourself. The sun was practically cooking everyone alive, but they still went on with the stupid festival.
“LOOK!” Sokka exclaimed excitedly, frantically pointing at the stage below. “They’re setting up dummies for Zuko to burn!”
“I hope he misses.” you roll your eyes, fanning yourself as you wipe the sweat from your forehead. 
“Aww, don’t say that! That would hurt his honor.” Toph jokes, earning a laugh from everybody. You quietly smirk to yourself in response; people’s eyes were on you, so you had to act elegant and proper, like the palace ladies always tell you to do.
The blow of a horn signifies that the show is starting, and you see a lineup of several fire benders enter the stage.
Shirtless.
Including Zuko.
Your seat is high up above the stage, so you can’t see many details, but your eyes unconsciously check his body out. You knew Zuko was fit and lean, but you had never seen him shirtless. Aside from dinner or public events, you and Zuko almost were never in each other’s presence. You don’t even sleep in the same room, so you had never seen him shirtless.
You force yourself to look away from him; he wasn’t the only shirtless fire bender on stage after all. As the event begins, you watch the men perform a form of fire bending—what you assume to be the Dancing Dragon, and people begin to holler and cheer. You look away and doze off; you’ve seen this a million times in previous years. When they finish, an announcer starts speaking, and almost immediately brings everyone’s attention to you up in the stands.
“Where is she?! There she is!” he points upwards at you, and your heart stops for a second. 
“Doesn’t everyone want to see Fire Lord Zuko perform up close and personal for his beautiful wife?!” he asks the crowd, and everyone cheers. 
“HELL YEAHHHH!!!” Sokka screams, and you smack his arm. 
“OW! Come on, don’t you want to see him up close in all his fire glory?!” he asks you, his eyes lit up with excitement. 
“Not really.”
“BRING HER DOWN!” Sokka yells back at the announcer and the crowd hollers again in amusement. 
You purse your lips together in irritation. You know Sokka wants to see you in misery, so you make sure to step on his foot on your way down from the stands, smiling to yourself as he yells in pain.
It’s a lot hotter once you get down to the stage. There’s no cool shade you can sit under and the flames from the torches and other benders make it even hotter. The announcer drags a chair for you to sit on center stage, and Zuko comes up to stand beside you. 
You try not to look too much or make it obvious, but out of the corner of your eye you watch him struggle to catch his breath as he stands there—shirtless and sweaty. His abs are so beautifully defined and it’s obvious the work he’s put in to achieve that. His pecs are glistening in sweat and the sun rays are shining so brightly on him like he’s some God. He runs his hands through his long locks of hair, messing it up so easily but he still looks so effortlessly handsome. 
You’re staring—stop staring. Zuko is going to notice. The announcer is going to notice when he stops talking about whatever it is he’s talking about. Look away. You can’t look away. If you stare more, Zuko will notice and it will be weird. 
Stop staring.
It’s too late; he's taken notice of your gaze. He looks down, his sharp eyes bore into yours as he stares back down at you. You don’t know what he is thinking, or maybe you just don’t see it because the sun is in your eye. But he’s looking back at you almost seductively, but maybe you’re just imagining that and it’s probably just the sun. But he’s never looked at you before like this; usually he can’t hide his feelings of hatred and dislike in his eyes, but this time none of that is there. Your best guess is because the two of you are in public and he’s actively trying not to look at you that way.
“—will perform a fire bending performance he prepared in advance for his beautiful wife!” you snap back to reality, breaking eye contact with Zuko and looking back at the announcer.
A performance he prepared in advance for you? Please, what a load of bullshit that was. You knew that was just something the palace told him to say to continue to sell your cheap fake love story with Zuko.
The performance begins, and other fire benders join the stage again to show off their moves with fire alongside Zuko. Fire is dancing in the air and all around you and it feels a million times hotter and a million times more miserable because of the stupid heat. You’re not enjoying it at all, but you keep a smile on your face to fool the people. Your eyes found a way to follow Zuko’s movements: he is smooth, athletic and agile, and elegant. You had to admit he looked good fire bending, but you’d never say that. It had to be because he’s probably been practicing. It feels like a million more years until the stupid dance finally ends and Zuko holds his hand out to you to escort you back to the stands, but not before the announcer disrupts you two.
“Woah woah woah, where are you going so early?!” he stops the two of you from stepping off the stage. 
“Tell me dear,” he looks at you then gestures to the audience. “What did you think of Fire Lord Zuko and his amazing performance?”
You barely paid any attention to it. “It was amazing! I always love watching him firebend.” your response is automatic, and so is the exciting smile you put up for everyone to holler and cheer at. 
“She loved it, folks! Zuko, how are you feeling right now?”
“I’m happy she liked it, I worked hard to impress her.” His response and smile is just as automatic and fake as yours was.
“Wonderful, wonderful! Well, folks, what’re we thinking! A little kiss of appreciation between our lovely couple?”
Your heart practically drops to your stomach, and you feel Zuko’s hand tighten around yours. It’s not like you’ve never kissed him in public before, you have multiple times. But all those times were calculated and carefully planned out. This is a spontaneous kiss in front of thousands of people. Your hand feels a little sweaty, so you let go, but you quickly turn to Zuko and face him. You react quicker than him, standing on your tippy toes and tilting your chin up to give him easier access.
“Well?” you feel like throwing up. “Aren’t you going to kiss me, Zuko?” you feel yourself cringe. 
The crowd is loud, but Zuko quickly adjusts. “So eager to kiss me now, are we?” he automatically leans down and presses his lips against yours. 
Soft. Supple. Zuko didn’t think he would really feel the kiss out, and usually he didn’t, but this was the first time he noticed how good it felt to kiss you. Or maybe it was the rush of adrenaline he got from moving around. Yeah, probably that.
It’s almost as if his lips have a mind of his own and refuse to listen to him, because he’s tilting his head to kiss you more deeply and one of his hands are entangling themselves in your hair and the other is moving down to the small of your back as he holds you closer to himself. He can feel the erratic thumping of his heartbeat, fast and panicked. 
People in the crowd are yelling louder now, hyping up the two of you as you kiss and you pull away. You look at him, cheeks colored with pink and droopy eyes. He’s never had any sort of reaction to kissing you before, so why now? You figured he was blushing because of the heat; after all it was really hot.
•••
“You looked like you hated the performance,” Zuko observes out loud as he leads you back to the stands. The two of you mutually decided to go back to the stands through the palace halls instead of outside to get some cool air as a break.
“What do you think? You were front and center of the whole thing, of course I hated it.” you reply.
“Why were ogling at me then?” he looks down at you and smirks. 
Did he notice you staring at him earlier? Jesus, of course he did, you were so obvious! You do a mental facepalm, embarrassed he noticed.
“I wasn’t ogling; you just smelled gross, you were all sweaty. That’s all.”
“That’s not what I saw.”
“You saw wrong. Humble yourself for once.”
It’s quiet for a beat, then you decide to poke fun at his reaction to kissing you.
“You liked the kiss that much, huh?”
He stops in his tracks. “What? That was just for show.”
“Really? Then why were you all blushy and red?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he sounds serious. “It’s hot as hell outside, so don’t get your hopes up just because I can give the people a good kiss. It was all an act.”
You don’t know why, but you felt a little disappointed at what he said. Sure, it was true, but it still tugged at your heart a bit.
“Really?”
“Really.”
He’s walking again, but you have the absurd idea to test if what he said is true. Grabbing him by his arm, you tug him towards you with force, and when he leans down to you the slightest, you lean up to kiss him.
Zuko freezes in place. He panics, unsure of what to do or how to feel in the moment. It all happened too fast—the grabbing, the kissing, the—why is his heart beating fast? He’s unable to think, mind and heart cloudy with confusion. Why were you kissing him? And why was he kissing you back? He normally doesn’t find himself lost in kissing you, but that’s exactly how he was feeling right now. It’s like his head was empty and the only thing he could focus on was the sweet taste of your lips.
Oh, God.
Oh no. 
No.
No.
No.
Zuko was leaning into you again, but this time with more passion. It felt rushed, like he was in some sort of hurry to get as close to you as he physically could. His hands couldn’t help but hold your face, gently grabbing your chin to tilt your head into the kiss. God, your skin was so soft and felt so nice to rub. He softly moves his lips against yours, his nose brushing against yours as he continues to kiss you. It’s like his body has a mind of its own, acting on its own desires and refusing to listen to his head. He feels your hands grab at his neck, wrapping around his throat as you forcefully push him away from you.
Zuko coughs for a second, stepping back in surprise, his hand coming up to rub his neck. 
“Did you just choke me?” he accuses you.
“You did like the kiss!” you point a finger at him, a victorious smile planted on your lips. You wanted to test out and see if it was because of your kiss that he was all red and blushy, and you were right.
“What?” He feels his cheeks heat up. “No, no I did not. Why did you kiss me? Then choke me?” 
And why did he kind of like it?
“To prove my point.”
“What point?” he was still thinking about your hands on his throat.
“You liked the kiss! That’s why you were all red in the face like you are right now,” you told him arrogantly. “And I didn’t choke you, I just grabbed you by the neck to push you away. Why, you got a thing for being choked?”
“No!” Maybe. “That’s absurd.” I wouldn’t mind trying it out. “Let’s just go.” 
You watch him walk ahead of you, your eyes shifting from his back to the tip of his red ears.
•••
There was going to be a ball. Another stupid ball where you would have to dress up (the only fun part) and socialize with nobles and other random rich people. Sometimes, you’d fake being sick in order to skip out on these balls, but tonight was a celebratory ball for your first year of marriage with Zuko. A miserable first year. You roll your eyes, cringing at the thought that it would be like this for the rest of your life. Although you had accepted it long before the wedding, every time you thought about it, it still managed to upset you.
“Are you comfortable?” one of your maids asked you as she adjusted your dress. 
“Not really,” you had a sudden thought. “Actually, I’m feeling a bit ill…”
“You cannot skip your anniversary ball, your majesty.” she spoke. She knew exactly what kind of excuse you were trying to pull.
You roll your eyes in annoyance. “Fine.”
As your maids finished dressing you up, you were instructed to meet Zuko before the ball so that the two of you could arrive together. Your maids walked you to the entrance before the ball, where you saw Zuko standing there alone waiting for you. 
“Took you long enough,” he complained.
You looked towards the door, the loud music making its way through the closed doors. “Well at least I look good. You, however, look like you just rolled out of bed. As usual.”
He ignored your sarcastic comment. “Look, tonight we need to act in love, so none of that attitude you always give me.” 
“We’ve been doing this for a year now; I think I know how it works. And anyway, it shouldn’t be too hard for you to act in love with me.” you lectured him.
“A part of my soul dies every time I have to kiss you or even look at you lovingly.”
“Please, what soul?”
As Zuko looked down at you to respond, one of his advisors stopped him. The two of you looked behind you to see Jia, a frail elderly woman Zuko often sought out for advice.
“Ahem, um, maybe it would be better to separate the two of you for now. Fire Lord Zuko can enter first,” she then turned to you with a sweet smile. “We’ll just have you enter from the top of the staircase into the ballroom when it begins. Everyone’s eyes will be on your beautiful gown then.”
•••
Zuko was chatting with a couple nobles about the cabbage market, pretending to be engrossed in their conversation to kill time, but he was really just dozing off and staring into space. If there was one thing he had in common with you, it was that the two of you disliked ballroom parties. When a musical horn went off to call the attention of all guests, he looked towards the top of the staircase where he knew you’d be entering.
“Everyone, please welcome Fire Lord Zuko’s wife!” someone chanted, and people began to clap and cheer.
He watched you emerge from a door, only to notice that you had changed your appearance. Your dress was more casual, you were wearing shoes that looked more comfortable, and you had left your hair down. 
Perhaps it was the alcohol he had been sipping on, or the loud music, or everyone cheering and clapping at the same time, but for once since meeting you, he felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of you. Your skin was glowing and your hair was so perfectly bouncy and lucious it was difficult for him to look anywhere else. It was as if there was nothing and no one else to look at but you. He felt the thump in his chest and was unable to focus on anything else until he had been staring for too long and you were already in front of him.
She looks beautiful… for once. That’s new.
He was admiring your beauty again, sharp eyes focused on your face, noticing all the details on your face, details he had never noticed before. He was sure you probably thought he was glaring at you, but really—he was in awe. He had never seen you look so comfortable in something the palace ladies dressed you in. 
His eyes were practically glued to your figure and he was having trouble snapping himself out of the sort of trance you put him under. He was feeling weak in the knees and could feel himself unsteady, you looked beautiful. Too beautiful.
Beautiful wasn’t even a good enough word to describe how stunning you looked. Ethereal, ravishing, alluring, bewitching—none of these words were enough to describe your beauty. None of them did you justice. To him, your beauty was thousands of times more beguiling than the flowers in the palace gardens you spent all your free time looking at. If he were to choose to either look at you or the flowers for an eternity, he would choose you. 
And God, did he hate that. He hated the way he was looking at you right now. He hated the way that he knew he couldn’t even hide how attracted he was to you. He hated the way he couldn’t even find the right words to describe how beautiful you looked, he hated how he couldn’t pull his eyes from you no matter how hard he tried, and he hated the way that you didn’t even know how beautiful you are.
“Zuko,” you bowed politely, and his eyes couldn’t help but follow you as you moved.
He snapped back out of your trance and shook his head. It had to be the alcohol. He probably had too much and that’s why he was feeling shaky and nervous, not because his jaw almost dropped seeing how breathtakingly beautiful you looked. He blamed the alcohol. There was no way he would feel this way if he were sober. He was tipsy. He had to be.
“You look nice,” he began, knowing everyone’s eyes and ears were on the two of you. I can’t take my eyes off of her.
“That’s it?” he watched you fake a chuckle. “I’m not beautiful?” If he didn’t know your real personality, he would’ve believed your fake laugh and fake smile you had plastered on your face right now. 
“You look beautiful as always,” he replied. Has she always been so pretty? Normally he would’ve felt himself cringe and had the urge to vomit calling you attractive, but this time he said it as if he actually meant it. He did mean it. 
Had to be the alcohol.
He felt you grab hold of his arm as he led you to the center of the ballroom and prepared to dance. As the guests formed a circle to watch the two of you dance, suddenly he felt a rise of panic in his chest. Normally he was used to people’s eyes on him and normally he was used to dancing with you and not making a big deal of it, but something about tonight was different.
It was the fact that you looked more like yourself when you had chosen to wear something that you felt more comfortable in and the fact that you wore your hair down which you almost never did in a ball for reasons he didn’t know and the fact that because you were so comfortable, your confidence was through the roof and he found himself drawn to that.
You feel Zuko’s hand snake around your waist as he pulls you in closer to him, your face dangerously close to his as you look into his amber eyes. It was like his eyes were drilling holes into yours: he was looking at you so intensely and with so much conflict swimming in his pupils if confused you. Was he mad at you or something? If he wasn’t, why was he looking at you as if he was and why was he gripping your waist so firmly like you were going to run away or something?
Your hand came up to rest on his shoulders, and on cue, the two of you began a waltz to the instrumental music. The two of you flowed so easily to the music, swaying with passion and chemistry. You lean in closer to him, knowing the guests would think you both are close and in love. You watched everyone’s eyes on you, admiring and watching as you know people thought you and Zuko were head over heels in love with each other.
Unlike how the two of you usually dance, Zuko began to feel stiff and tense, and you wondered why that was. This dance was no different than any other dance, so why was he acting like this?
You tilted your chin upwards to get closer to his ear so that only he would hear what you’re saying. “What’s wrong with you?” you whisper. “Why do you feel so stiff?”
“I’m not stiff,” he muttered passive-aggressively. He shuddered at the feeling of your hoarse whisper against his ear. 
“Relax a little, Zuko, everyone’s watching.” you warned him and assumed he forced himself to relax because he loosened his grip on you and was able to finish the dance with no more issues.
After your dance with him, you speed off to the refreshments in need of a drink and left him in the dust. As you pop some chocolates in your mouth, your eyes watch the crowd. You’re scanning faces when your eyes meet a familiar pair of golden eyes.
Zuko. 
His eyes bore into yours from across the ballroom. Though people walk across your line of vision and break your staring contest with Zuko, his eyes stay on yours, watching you. 
No. Admiring you. Almost longing for you. Zuko’s gaze softens, eyes filled with tender love, and for a mere second you think he might actually be in love with you.
You can’t help but stare back. Why was he looking at you like that? Did he hate dancing with you so much that he had to throw you a death stare? 
Although you question why he’s looking at you with so much passion, your heart can’t help but skip a beat. It feels like it’s about to leap out of your chest. It’s making you nervous. He’s making you nervous.
Zuko is making you nervous.
His eyes are still on you, watching your every move and even though people are trying to talk to him, he’s ignoring them. It was as if you were the only person in the room and he was begging for your attention with his eyes. 
You are the first to break eye contact.
Displeased with the bland tastes of everything, you looked around and noticed a waiter walking around with a tray of drinks. Waving him over, you grabbed a glass from him and downed it. It was sweet and carbonated, something you’ve never tasted before. As you turned to him to grab one more, you noticed the waiter was already gone. Shrugging it off, you turned to the desserts to eat. You were in the middle of tasting a chocolate when Mai came up to you.
“What’s up with Zuko?” she asked, popping a cookie into her mouth and leaning against the table of food.
“Did you see how stiff he was?” you asked her, sneaking a look back at him, but he’s nowhere to be found. You and Mai had become friends sometime after they had broken up and she was one of the few people who gave you comfort after you were put into this arranged marriage with Zuko. It was something small, but something you thought about often and were extremely grateful for.
“Yeah, it was painful to watch. These people are stupid to not realize that.” she watched you, eyes darting around your face to read your expression. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, why?”
Her eyes started to grow in worry as she looked closer at your face. “You look, I don’t know. Hot and red. Not the good hot. The ‘you’re heating up’ hot. Are you sick?” she held the back of her hand to your forehead. “Oh my God, you’re heating up! It feels like you have a fever!”
“What?” you questioned, patting your cheeks and neck. You were burning up. “Oh shit,” as you were heating up, your eyesight began to blur and your head was getting dizzy.
“Hey!” you heard her start to yell, but her voice sounded faint. You struggled to stay on your feet, wobbling as Mai grabbed your shoulders to stabilize you. You looked around the room and Zuko was nowhere to be found. Everyone began to stare at you and ask if you’re okay, but everyone’s voices including Mai’s were becoming more and more faint and harder to hear. You tried to stay on your feet and she tried to keep you upright, but you couldn’t help yourself and it was like your body was beginning to shut down. Your vision was almost completely blurred and so was your hearing, and very soon your body shut down and you felt yourself fainting as you fell to the ground.
•••
Zuko was out of breath as he rushed through the ballroom, grabbing random people’s shoulders and asking where you were. Some people had explained in a panic that you fainted suddenly while he was in the bathroom, and that you were taken by some maids somewhere else. After he had found out you were in the private clinic in the palace, he exited the party in a rush, practically sprinting down the hallways of the palace. He felt himself functioning off his adrenaline as he ran to you in a panicked worry. He was only gone for a couple of minutes, and in those couple of minutes you had fainted? What the hell did you even do to get yourself in a situation like that? Reaching the clinic quickly, he slammed the doors open and saw his friends sitting in the lobby. 
“Where is my wife?!” Zuko asked hurriedly in a state of panic and anger. How could this happen to you? Who could have caused something like this? Were you even okay?
“Zuko, you need to calm down first.” Aang said in an attempt to pacify him. Aang swore he saw fire burning in Zuko’s eyes and steam blowing out of his nose.
“Where is she?” he brushed the Avatar off, pushing him to the side as he opened one of the doors. He burst through and saw Katara healing you as you laid unconscious on the bed. Beside you was Mai, and as soon as he saw her, he couldn’t help but shift the blame to her and glare.
“What did you do?!” he turned his anger on Mai, stepping closer to her in annoyance.
Zuko wasn’t thinking straight (obviously) and was letting his emotions dictate his words and actions. Not knowing who the cause of your condition was pissing him off and hurting him more than he wanted it to.
“What? Are you stupid? I didn’t do anything! You should be thankful! She was poisoned and fainted, and I brought her here for some privacy!”
“Zuko, Mai only helped,” Katara calmly chimed in. “If you would please stop yelling, I could heal her faster.”
“Well, hurry it up!” he snapped as his eyes looked over your unconscious body. On any other normal day, Zuko wouldn’t have cared too much about you being poisoned, but tonight was different and he couldn’t figure out why. 
The fact that someone—another human being—went out of their way to poison you didn’t sit right with him. Why would someone want to poison you and not him? He was unable to come up with a reason as to why someone would want to kill you, so he had to find out. He had to find who wanted you gone and had to figure out why. Because even though you both didn’t get along, it’s not like he wanted you dead. Even if he were the one poisoned and you’d be happy, he would never wish for something like this to happen to you; he was well aware you already hated the royal life.
Zuko felt his jaw clench in anger as he left the room, heading straight to a close advisor of his: Jia. 
•••
“Jia,” he knew she was always in the kitchens around this time at night, drinking tea. Oftentimes his uncle joined her, but not tonight.
“Hm?” she barely looked up from her tea as she stirred it calmly.
He stood there in front of her, hands in fists as he waited for some sort of reaction. You had just been poisoned in front of everyone, and this was how she was reacting? 
“Hello?! My wife’s just been poisoned, and this is how you react?! Jia, my wife—”
“I already sent out a couple soldiers to search for the culprit, and they already have a lead on him. Apparently he was disguised as a waiter when she was poisoned.” she explained, and finally decided to look up at the distressed Fire Lord. 
“I got on it as soon as it happened. Don’t worry, at this rate, we’ll have him in cuffs by the morning.” Jia’s quick action calmed Zuko’s nerves a bit, and he found himself wanting to sit with her to get himself together. 
“She changed her clothes for the ball tonight,” he told Jia after pouring himself a cup of tea. “She looked different.”
“How so? All she did was ask to change her dress and leave her hair down.”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Just less annoying, I guess.”
The elderly woman chuckled, warming her hands with her tea.
“She threw a knife at me the other night,” Zuko said to fill the silence when Jia didn’t reply. “A steak knife.”
“You two are a match made in heaven.”
He nearly choked on his tea and almost spat it out. As he coughed into his elbow, he could barely get a response out. “Match made in heaven? Jia, are you blind or something? I just said she threw a knife at me the other night! Were you not listening?!”
“You should go see her.” she spoke, ignoring his complaints.
“I already did.”
“Really?” she raised an eyebrow in response, surprised he even went to visit you in the first place. “I didn’t think you would.”
“I’m not heartless.”
“I never said you were.”
“She doesn’t want to see me.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do. I know for a fact she will not want my presence there when she wakes up.”
“Well, maybe she doesn’t want you there physically. But, you could send a message to her another way.”
•••
Your massive headache was the only thing you could focus on as your eyes struggled to open. The pounding had you feeling cranky and groggy. You just wanted to go back to bed, but Katara insisted you sit up in bed and drink some water. Your lips feel dry and you feel shaky and weak as you force yourself to drink something.
“How long was I out?” you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.
“Couple days. Mai brought you here. And she brought you flowers.” Katara gestured to the vase of flowers on your bedside table. Purple hyacinths. 
You raised an eyebrow in confusion. Why was Mai apologizing with flowers? She didn’t even like flowers, and even if she did get them for you, her choice of purple hyacinths were bizarre. Purple hyacinths symbolize sadness, and asking for forgiveness.
“That’s nice,” you brushed it off; Mai probably didn’t even know the meaning of purple hyacinths. There was no need to overthink it. “Thanks for taking care of me.” you told Katara, looking up at her and seeing her eye bags. How long has she been there with you?
“No problem, get some rest.”
“You should too. You look like you haven’t been sleeping well. I’ll be fine on my own. If I need anything, I’ll call a nurse.” 
“Are you sure? I don’t mind staying with you.”
“I’ll be fine,” you assured her. 
When she nodded and stood up, she made sure to tell you she’ll visit once a day until you get better. You smiled at her; Katara was such a kind soul and friend.
•••
A couple more days passed and you were no longer bedridden after those days. You could finally muster up enough strength to get out of bed and walk around. In those couple of days, you were informed that the man who poisoned you was the waiter that served you a drink at the ballroom party. Thankfully, he was easily caught by soldiers who were sent out to search for him, and he was sitting in jail now as you recovered. You were told it was some scheme to try and hurt Zuko, but jokes on them because you and Zuko didn’t love each other. He didn’t even bother to come visit you or send someone to check on you. Not that it bothered you… it didn’t. You knew that you and Zuko didn’t get along, but you still felt your heart drop a little when Katara told you that he never stopped by, and that Mai was swinging by your room more to check on you.
You already knew Mai had been stopping by, because every day since you’ve woken up you noticed that there was a new vase of purple hyacinths sitting by you. You never saw Mai drop them off herself, so you assumed she did it in the early morning while you were still sleeping. 
Even your husband’s ex-girlfriend cared more about your well-being than he did. Even though it was an arranged marriage and you and Zuko never wanted to be near each other, you probably still would have gone to see him if he was poisoned, so knowing he wasn’t doing the same for you tugged at your heartstrings a bit, but you didn’t want to admit it.
You shook your head in a physical attempt to shake Zuko from your thoughts. Standing up, you decided that you’d take a walk around the gardens for some fresh air. As you threw on a jacket, you stepped into your shoes and opened the door to leave. Stepping out from your room, you turn and see a disheveled Zuko sitting on a chair against the wall next to your door. When he notices you, he opens his mouth to say something, but he’s quiet. You look down at him, partly shocked but mostly annoyed. His hair looked messy and all over the place, he was dressed down, and he was holding a small blanket in his lap.
“What are you doing here? You look like you haven’t slept.” you tell him.
“Not much,” he weakly said, a clear tiredness laced in his voice. “I’ve been sleeping out here and waiting for you to come out.”
“Don’t you have anything better to do?” you retorted, walking away and not letting him respond. 
Did he really expect you to believe that he had been sleeping out in the hallway these past couple days waiting for you? Did he think you were stupid? Sure, it looked like he was telling the truth, but you doubt he actually did it. Why would he anyway? The two of you didn’t like each other and never wanted to be around each other.
“Wait for me,” he pleaded, and started following your footsteps like a dog. “And no, I don’t have anything better to do.”
“How about running your country? Did you forget you’re the Fire Lord?” you rolled your eyes and made your way to the gardens as he followed after you. 
Why was he still following you? Why was he acting like he actually loved and cared for you? It confused you and made your heart ache and you didn’t want to be around him. It was just too confusing and too much for you right now.
The gardens were empty like usual, so the only noise was your footsteps against the gravel and the chirping of the birds in the early morning. But of course, Zuko’s stupid loud footsteps just have to follow in your direction and ruin the entire mood.
“I couldn’t focus on anything else.”
You didn’t reply, instead choosing to walk faster in an attempt to shake him off. It was so obvious you didn’t want to be near him, so why wouldn’t he just take the hint and leave? You weren’t fully healed, so you were growing tired as you began walking in the garden’s maze in hopes to lose him. 
“Fuck off.”
You felt your heart beating faster because you were feeling weak and tired again, but you ignored it and kept going. You didn’t want Zuko to bother you anymore. He calls your name once more, and his voice sounds faint so you know you’ve already begun to lose him in the maze. 
Turning a corner to catch your breath, you grab your chest. Your vision was becoming hazy and it was hard staying on two feet. It was like you were poisoned again once more and you felt yourself wobbling and struggling to even stand. When Zuko calls your name again, it’s because he’s catching you as you fall to the ground.
He’s yelling your name again, but this time you can barely hear him and his face is becoming more blurry as the time passes. He’s shaking you and yelling your name, but your hearing is clouded and you feel yourself fainting in his arms, your eyes closing shut against your own will.
•••
When you awaken, the only sound in the room is the cackling fire by the bed you’re lying in. Except it’s not your bed. Sitting in a chair and half lying on the side of the bed is Zuko, sleeping soundly. You sit up and look around, the curtains are drawn so it’s almost completely dark in the room except for the fire going on the other side of the room. 
It’s Zuko’s room. 
You had never been in his room, but you could tell it was his from the portraits of his uncle and mother and a nearby wall and his dual swords sitting above the bed on the wall. Looking at his bedside table, you eye a book sitting on it.
Flowers & Their Meanings
Zuko reads? 
You grab the book, noting a corner of a page folded in, and you flip to it. The page is titled ‘Purple Hyacinth’ and below was some written information on it. Your thoughts run back to when you had first awakened after being poisoned, back to your conversation with Katara.
“How long was I out?” you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.
“Couple days. Mai brought you here. And she brought you flowers.” Katara gestured to the vase of flowers on your bedside table. Purple hyacinths. 
You raised an eyebrow in confusion. Why was Mai apologizing with flowers? She didn’t even like flowers, and even if she did get them for you, her choice of purple hyacinths were bizarre. Purple hyacinths symbolize sadness, and asking for forgiveness.
No.
There was absolutely no way it was Zuko that brought those flowers to you. Katara said it herself that Mai brought those flowers. You did think that it was weird for Mai to bring you flowers since she hated them, but Zuko? He hates you, and you hate him. So why on Earth would he bring you apology flowers? It didn’t make any sense.
“You saw the flowers?” 
You flinch in surprise, shutting the book and setting it down on the nightstand. Zuko is awake now, and sits back up in his chair. Crossing his arms against his chest, he silently and awkwardly avoids your eyes.
“That was you?” you stare at him in disbelief.
“You think Mai would give you flowers?” he stares deeply into your eyes, and you have the urge to look away.
“That’s what Katara said.”
He sighs. “I told her not to tell you about them.”
“Why?”
“I thought you’d hate it if I visited, so I sent flowers instead. I told Katara to say it was someone else.”
Actually, you thought the flowers were sweet, but that was because you thought they were from Mai and not Zuko. You and Zuko never got along well, so why would he give you flowers? It didn’t make sense at all and was confusing you. Why was he so worried when you got poisoned and why has he been following you around like a lost puppy since you woke up? 
“What is wrong with you?” you said without thinking.
“Huh?”
“You wait for me to awaken after being poisoned, you read a book about flowers to pick the right ones to send to me, then you won’t stop following me after I wake up? What the hell’s going on with you, Zuko? What happened to trying to get Mai to love you again, huh? What, now that you know you can’t have her, you’re paying attention to me now, is that it?” you were starting to feel furious, mostly out of confusion, but sadness as well. 
The sudden shift in Zuko’s attitude had you feeling lost and had you questioning how you felt about him. Since you had gotten married, you didn’t enjoy being his wife, so now that things were changing, you were questioning why that was. 
“No, stop. That’s not the truth at all. That’s far from the truth.”
“You’re a liar.” you stand up, stepping from his 
warm bed sheets as you walk towards the door. He quickly catches up to you, closing the door with his hand from behind you. He’s standing close to you, too close you can feel his breath tickle the back of your neck.
“Let me explain.”
You take a deep breath, debating if you wanted to hear him out. 
“Please,” he begs you, his voice small and careful. It was as if he was walking on eggshells around you. When you react with nothing but silence, he takes it as a cue to continue.
“Things have changed, okay?” he tells you, and you turn around to look up at him and face him. 
You’ve never been so up close and personal with Zuko, not like this anyways. He smells clean, and you eye his loosely tightened robe—it’s not covering his body entirely. His chest is slightly exposed, heaving up and down as he nervously tries to control his breathing around you.
“Oh yeah? How so?” you keep your eyes trained on his chest, because if you look into his eyes, you might just give in to him. 
“I know we’ve had our differences—” he begins.
“I never wanted to marry you.”
“I know, I felt the same way. Well, I did. I feel… differently now.”
“Different?” you look up at him with a glare, a hidden anger suddenly starting to rise to the surface the more you stare into his dumb pretty eyes.
“Listen, I never wanted to marry you either. And when we did get married, I hated it. I know you did, too. But I don’t know, recently—recently things have changed. In a good way. I don’t know if I’ve always felt this way, maybe I have, but I can’t help but be drawn to you. And it’s driving me absolutely insane. I thought I was insane. Because it’s like, every time I see you, I can’t help but fall for you. I can’t help but stare at you and I can’t help but want you.” 
Zuko speaks with such honesty and passion there is no doubting his words, and that’s what pisses you off. It takes getting poisoned for him to realize he’s in love with you? Where the hell did that even come from?
“I hate you.” is all you can say, because you don’t know how to feel. You’re lost and confused and you don’t know how to handle it.
“I know you don’t,” he speaks softly, his hand coming up to tilt your chin upwards.
His eyes look like a brighter shade of his stupid golden eyes, and he’s staring into your soul so intensely it makes you shudder.
“I do. I do hate you.” you whisper, your voice shaking and unsure. God, you probably sounded like an idiot.
“Oh yeah?” his tone is mischievous as he leans in closer, his eyes lowering to your lips.
“Yes. I hate everything about you.”
“Say it again. Tell me you hate me.”
“I hate you.”
“I love you.” 
Zuko leans in quickly, his lips meeting yours in an instant. You hesitate for a moment, relishing in his soft kiss. It’s like time froze all around you and all you could think of was Zuko’s lips on yours and his large and soft hands coming up to gently stroke your cheeks.
His kiss is so innocent and sweet it pisses you off knowing how good he is at kissing. He leans into you, just barely pressing his chest to yours, and you can feel his heartbeat quicken. One hand is in your hair, combing through the soft strands as his other hand holds your waist, directing your body to press back into his. His thumb is rubbing at your hip, trying to feel you through the fabric of your clothes and suddenly you have the thought and urge to rip it all off so he can feel you up as much as he wants.
“Tell me again,” Zuko breathes into the kiss.
“What?”
“Tell me you hate me.” he pulls away for a moment and waits for you.
“I hate you.”
“I love you.” he responds breathlessly, smashing his lips against yours. This time he’s impatient, kissing you like he’s running out of time or like you’re going to be taken away and this is his last moment with you.
His head tilts to the side, the hand that was in your hair moving to grab you by your chin, easily directing you to open your mouth into the kiss. He licks into you, desperate for more as he kisses you harder, like some starved man that hasn’t had a meal in forever. His chest is heaving and you feel the hand on your waist wandering the curves of your body, desperate to feel your bare skin.
You push him away from you slightly, but only because you’re out of breath and need a moment to process what just happened.
Zuko kissed you. And you kissed him back.
But he did more than just kiss you. He made you feel something. He made you want him back. Something you never thought he was capable of. 
“What about…” you start, unsure if you should say what you’re about to say. 
You either have no talent for hiding your thoughts, or Zuko knows you well, because it’s as if he’s reading your mind because he finishes your sentence for you.
“Mai?”
You nod silently. You always thought she was the one for him, after all up until a while ago he was trying to get back with her.
“Things have changed,” he starts. “Actually, they’ve been changing for awhile. And it’s not what you think.”
Please, did he really think you would believe that? “Okay, then explain calling Mai to confess your love to her again in the gardens.”
“That day in the gardens,” he explains as he leads you to sit on his bed with him. “I didn’t call her out to confess to her. I wanted to see her to ask about you.”
Your eyes narrowed at him; you didn’t believe anything that was coming out of his mouth. 
“I know you two are close, so I wanted to ask her for advice because I was already falling for you. But she was calling me a dick for bothering her so she left.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He looks stunned. “You wouldn’t have believed me even if I explained it to you, so it didn’t matter.”
He’s right, you would’ve thought he was a liar and you probably would’ve called him a liar like you did five minutes ago.
“So… you’re not still in love with her?”
“No.”
“You’re telling me you’re not hopelessly, desperately, absolutely blind in love with her that you can’t do anything else or think about anyone else?” you tease in one breath, your heart feeling lighter.
“No, but do you want to know who I’m actually hopelessly, desperately, absolutely blind in love with that I can’t do anything else or think about anyone else?”
“I wonder who it could be.”
“Why don’t you take a guess.” he teases, leaning over you, sharp eyes watching your every move.
“I don’t know.” you do know.
“You don’t?” he chuckles, leaning into your neck, his breath lightly tickling your skin. 
“Nope.”
“Would you like a hint?” His voice is so deep and sultry you’re practically trembling at how sexy he sounds.
“That’d be nice.”
“Well, the woman I’m in love with is fucking crazy,” Zuko begins, his hand coming up to stroke your thigh. Your eyes move down to watch his muscular hands massage your inner thighs, moving closer and closer to your pussy with each firm stroke. It’s faint, but you feel yourself clench around nothing.
The veins on his hand are distracting.
“She tried to kill me with a steak knife recently,” he laughs as he recalls the memory, pulling away slightly to look at you. 
He is watching your face, trying to read and memorize your features as his eyes gaze into yours. There is a new softness in his eyes when he looks at you, unlike the usual sharp glare he shoots you when you both make eye contact.
“You’re in love with a woman who tried to kill you?” you laugh quietly, going along with whatever joke he’s making.
“Surprisingly, yes. I’m even looking at her right now. Do you know who I’m in love with now?” he smiles, his eyes curving into a smile as well.
“I might need another hint.” you answer, your eyes flickering down to his lips. You hope he will kiss you again.
He picks up on your hint, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your lips. “I’ve kissed her a couple times now. But the last couple times,” he kisses you again. “It’s like she’s laced her lips with drugs or something. I’ve become addicted to her lips in just a couple kisses.” he glances down for a second, grabbing your hand and leading it to where he wants it.
He’s hard.
He directs you to stroke him through the thin material of his loosely tied robe, his lips coming down to suck on the soft skin of your neck. 
“And in just a couple kisses,” he says again. “She’s managed to make me so hard.” he breathes against your neck. 
“You make me so hard.” Zuko whispers faintly. 
His voice sounds so sweet and sexy it almost pisses you off how much his tone is turning you on. You stroke him through his robe, feeling his hard cock underneath. You have the urge to suddenly rip off his robe, wanting to feel him. His abs, his smooth skin, his strong thighs, and his hardened dick. He lets out a soft moan against your neck, his hips unexpectedly bucking upwards for more friction. 
“You have no idea what you do to me.” he whispers in your ear, his voice a slight whine. 
“I think I have an idea.” you laugh, slightly tugging at the strings that tie his robe together. It’s so loosely wrapped around him that if you just tugged on it slightly, you would finally get to see him naked. He watches your fingers play with his robe, sensing your impatience. 
“Take it off.” he tells you, and you act automatically, undoing the knot. He stands briefly, letting the piece of clothing fall to the ground. You stay seated on the bed, your eyes practically groping his entire body. He’s so sculpted and muscular and perfect in every way it almost pisses you off.
His hardened cock springs to life, red and angry at the tip, he looks like he could cum from just a couple strokes. Your eyes make their way back to his, and he’s watching you with such an intensity in his eyes it makes you shudder in pleasure. You stare at him in awe, almost lost in his eyes you don’t notice him stroking your cheek, his voice a small whisper. 
“I love seeing you look up at me like that,” he grins, grabbing his dick as he continues to caress your cheek. “It makes me want to ruin you.” You watch him stroke himself, his pre-cum leaking at the tip.
“Then ruin me.”
He smiles a sweet smile in response, before he sticks his fingers in your mouth, forcing your lips apart before he shoves his dick into your mouth. 
He’s big, way too big and the biggest you’ve ever had, but you love it. You love how it fills your mouth and you feel like you’re going to choke and it makes you think about just how good it will feel when he finally fucks you. You’re taking him all in your mouth, desperate to hear something from him, to see some sort of reaction that you’re making him feel good. Your hands grab onto both of his thighs, feeling him tense beneath your fingertips. 
Strands of your hair fall in front of your face, blocking your view of him, so he grabs it, combing it behind your ears to clear your face. His hands grab at your head, shoving it further down his cock, and when you gag that’s when you hear it. 
A low, desperate, sweet sounding moan that makes you clench around nothing again. He bites down hard on his bottom lip in an attempt to quiet himself, but your mouth keeps sucking him in he can’t help but let out a moan of pleasure. 
“Fuck,” he groans, thrusting deeper into your mouth. Your eyes water and you rub your thighs together, anxious and impatient and wanting him to hurry and fuck you. “I love your mouth.”
He pulls out, a string of saliva connecting from your lips to his tip as he pulls his cock out. He’s visibly more turned on now; pupils dilated and cheeks red and heated.
“Your mouth feels good,” he easily grabs you by the hips to move you further up the bed. “But I bet this feels even better.” he forcefully spreads your legs with his knees and presses a hand to your clothed pussy. “For both of us.”
“It’d feel even better if you undressed me first.” you command him.
“Yes, ma’am.” he obeys, practically ripping your clothes off and throwing them behind him.
Your underwear is completely soaked, you look away and blush in embarrassment. God, did you look that desperate for some dick? Zuko seems to be infatuated with how wet you’ve become, because he leans down in front of you, his mouth hovering over your heat. 
“You don’t have to.” you tell him, grabbing his hair to stop him. 
“You’re right. I don’t have to,” he agrees, spreading your legs further so that you’re completely spread out for him, your entire body exposed for him and only him. “But all I can think about right now is tasting you.” he says before he places a kiss on the inside of your thigh. 
“You’re so wet,” he observes aloud. “I love it.” 
He leans in, his tongue sticking out to lick a strip up your wetness. He’s lapping at your pussy, licking and sucking and kissing everything it makes you dizzy. He sucks on your clit, his fingers teasing your entrance. You’re so turned on by the sound of him eating you out, you grab his hair by instinct to pull him closer to you. When he groans, you mistake it for a groan of annoyance or pain, so you let go. His lips leave your wetness for a moment, his eyes looking up to meet yours.
“Grab my hair again,” he takes your hand and entangles it into his hair again. “I love when you pull on it. I fucking love it.”
You can’t help but whimper, pulling on his roots as he moans in pleasure and you don’t know if it’s because you’re tugging on his hair or because he loves eating you out or both. Your hips are moving on their own, bucking upwards into his face as his fingers easily make their way inside you, fucking you slowly to loosen you up. 
“Ahh,” you cringe at yourself, almost ashamed and embarrassed you can’t hold yourself back. Your hands leave his hair to cover your face, heat rushing to your cheeks. Zuko pulls away from you, wiping his mouth before tugging at your hands.
“Why are you covering your face?” he asks, his hands gently wrapping at your wrists and rubbing your skin soothingly.
“No reason,” you shake your head, mortified.
“Come on now, let me see your face.” he grabs your wrists with one hand, pinning them above your head as he holds you down, his face inches away from yours.
You’re even more embarrassed and red now. You’re both completely naked and he’s situated between your legs, his cock rubbing against your entrance teasingly. Your hands are pinned above you, and the weight of his hand is holding you down, you’re unable to move. He’s watching you, basking in your embarrassment.
“I love your voice,” he assures you. 
“When you’re yelling at me,” he kisses your cheek.
“Insulting me,” he kisses your other cheek.
“And especially when you’re moaning for me.” he leaves small kisses on your jawline as his hips move against yours, his hard cock rubbing against your wetness. You’re so desperate to have him fuck you it’s almost impossible not to whine in annoyance. 
“I love when you moan. I want to hear more of it.” he says before he pushes himself into you.
“Oh,” you gasp, struggling to take him in.
“Fuck,” he lets go of your pinned hands and grabs your hips. 
“You son of a bitch,” you curse, your walls clenching down and welcoming him. You feel yourself throb around him, sucking him in as your hands wrap around his back. “You’re too big.” 
“You like it though,” he mumbles, pleasure taking over his body it’s becoming harder for him to speak clearly. He thrusts slowly, swearing to himself under his breath again. You moan as he fucks you more, your hands holding the back of his neck as he buries himself into you.
“I love it, it feels so good.” you moan, stroking his hair as his hips roll against you.
“I love you.” he tells you. 
“I love you.” he repeats, practically chanting it like it’s some sort of prayer.
He keeps whispering it into your ear, and you lift your hips, wrapping your legs around him as he continues to thrust into you. He glides in and out of you so easily it turns you on even more that he gets you so wet and ready so easily.
Your hands are busy exploring his smooth skin, feeling his neck and collarbone when he moans in your ear, his voice almost silent and pleading. 
“Choke me,” he begs. “L-Like you did the other day. Do it again.”
“What?”
“Please,” he breathes out, his eyes looking into yours, desperate and aroused. “I want your hands wrapped around my throat.”
You steadily place your hands on the side of his neck, careful not to block his airway. You squeeze the sides of his neck slightly, and as soon as you do, his eyes roll back in pleasure and his thrusts are harder. 
“Mmm,” he moans, biting down on his lips as he fucks into you. “Harder,” he demands.
The harder you choke him, the harder he fucks you. His moans grow louder and he’s practically chanting your name, begging you to destroy him as his thrusts grow haphazard the closer he gets to orgasming. 
He explodes, filling you up with so much cum it starts leaking out. But Zuko keeps going, desperate to make you finish as well. You’re no longer choking him, but your hands are instead messing up his hair and his lips are on your breasts, biting and sucking and kissing, you feel dizzy. 
His lips feel so good on your body. He leaves kisses and marks and words of his love and devotion for you it’s all so overwhelming. When he starts whispering to you how good your pussy feels and how much he loves you, it pushes you over the edge and you feel yourself clenching down on him hard as you reach your high.
When there’s nothing but the sound of your heavy breaths, all of a sudden you feel awkward. You hadn’t realized it until now, but you had been slowly falling for his stupid face and you were in denial about it this whole time.
“What’re you thinking so hard about?” Zuko hovers over your face, looking deeply into your eyes as if he’s trying to read you.
“Your stupid face.”
He chuckles, leaning down to brush his nose against yours before he leaves a small kiss on your cheek.��
“I’m in love with you.” he tells you.
“Oh.”
“Oh?”
“Thank you.” you say awkwardly, because you’re not good with words and you’re too embarrassed to tell him that you’re also in love with him because you would probably cringe and feel even more awkward than you do right now. 
“So… you do have a thing for being choked!” you tease when you suddenly remember him asking you to choke him.
He tenses, his eyes widening as he suddenly pulls out of you and sits up. “No I don’t!”
“If I remember correctly, you asked me to choke you! Remember? You were practically begging—”
He leans down, quickly kissing you to shut up. “I don’t remember that. And tell me you love me back.” he demands.
“Admit you like being choked first.”
“No.”
“Fine, then I don’t love you. I still hate you.”
“Tell me you love me.” he demands again, unwilling to give up.
“Tell me you like being choked.” you fire back.
He’s quiet for a moment, and that’s when you know you’ve won. 
“Fine. I do like it, but don’t tell anyone!” he glares at you. “Now you say you love me.” 
“I hate you.” you tease.
“Whatever, I still love you.” Zuko rolls his eyes, leaning in to kiss you once more.
•••
a/n: i literally added in the part of zuko getting choked after seeing a tiktok on how to properly choke someone during sex 😂
m.list
3K notes · View notes
transmascissues · 2 months
Note
it's silly but the biggest reason why im not into t yet is bc im so afraid of losing my hair. do you have any solutions/tips for it?
first of all, i don’t think it’s silly — it’s natural to be worried when hair loss is talked about by so many people as like…one of the worst results of aging for men. listening to my dad talk about how much he hates balding definitely did not make me feel particularly good about the knowledge that i may very well be joining him someday. i’m not saying the fear is right, because i don’t think hair loss is something awful that we should avoid at all costs, but it’s an understandable fear given the beauty standards we’re working with, and it’s one that a lot of us (myself included) feel.
one thing that’s helped me is just…paying more attention to the guys that i interact with on a daily basis. i’ve learned two things from it: 1) hair loss is super fucking common. i’d say it’s much harder to find an adult man who isn’t balding at all than it is to find one who’s completely bald. and 2) if you forget everything you’ve been told about how bad hair loss is, you’ll realize that quite frankly, every single one of those guys looks totally fucking fine. it doesn’t ruin their appearance and make them ugly, it looks totally natural and isn’t really even something you’d notice if you weren’t looking for it. we put so much weight on it but it’s really just not that big of a deal. i’ll hear my parents talk shit about men in my family who are losing their hair when i didn’t even notice a difference last time i saw them. it’s one of those things (like so many other appearance-related things) that you really only notice at all because you’ve been taught that you’re supposed to care about it.
this isn’t something i’ve done personally, but if you really want to desensitize yourself to the idea of it, embrace the time-honored queer tradition of just shaving your whole damn head! find out what you’d look like without hair, find out how you feel about it and what you can do that makes you feel good about your appearance without hair, test the waters while it’s still a temporary change and not something permanent. that way, it won’t feel like this big scary unknown, and you’ll actually have a frame of reference for your feelings about how you look without hair rather than accepting the societal assumption that you’ll inevitably hate it. if you don’t want to actually shave your head, you could also just fuck around with bald filters or photoshop and see what happens.
oh, and if you’re attracted to men, keep an eye out for guys who are bald or balding and also hot as fuck. in my experience, there’s no insecurity or potential future insecurity that being gay for other men hasn’t helped me with. just off the top of my head, i can think of a couple actors who i think are absolutely fucking gorgeous who have helped me get over my fears about losing my hair. despite what our anti-aging-obsessed world might want you to think, there is no such thing as a physical feature that automatically makes someone less attractive, and while making attractiveness less of a priority in your life is good, it can’t hurt to also give yourself some proof that actually, you might lose your hair and look hot as hell doing it.
basically, entertain the possibility that it won’t be a bad thing at all! whether that’s just because it turns out to be a neutral thing for you or because you end up actually liking it, it’s not an inherently bad thing. i’ve ended up liking a lot of things that were “supposed to” be bad effects of t — i love the weight i’ve gained and the new shape it gives my body, i get a lot of gender euphoria from the fact that my acne is now on parts of my face that i saw a lot of guys in high school get it and i’m not complaining about the scars i get from it either because i’ve always liked the added texture that acne scars give my skin, and so on. i think there’s a lot of joy to be had in the changes we’re taught to fear, once we look past that conditioning and actually explore how we feel about it.
but if it’s something you really don’t want and you just want to improve your chances of not having to deal with it, it’s not like there’s nothing you can do! products like finasteride (oral) and minoxidil (usually topical but i think there might also be oral versions) are pretty commonly used among trans guys, for the purpose of avoiding hair loss and for other reasons, and there are plenty of other anti-hair loss products out there (though i don’t know how effective any one of them might be). if it’s a big enough deal for you, you can just decide that you’ll go off of t if/when you start noticing signs of it, since no longer having higher t levels would stop the process in its tracks. and if you don’t find prevention options that work for you so it ends up happening, you can always explore different hair styles (judging by the pattern of hair loss i see in my family, i suspect that keeping my hair long would make it less obvious if i started losing mine), find your preferred method of covering it when you don’t feel good about it (personally i love a good beanie generally and would probably wear them a lot more if i didn’t have hair to worry about because my main complaint is the way they press my hair onto my neck), or just shave it all off if you don’t like the look of the partial balding but don’t mind a shaved head. the point being — you have options!
at the end of the day, whether you go on t or not, you’re going to see your body change as you age in ways that aren’t always going to be attractive to others or aesthetically pleasing to you. that’s just the reality of having a body. even if you never went on t, you’d get older and you might see your hair thin out even if you don’t bald, you’ll see your skin start to wrinkle and sag in places that used to be smooth, your metabolism might slow or your body fat might start to gather in new places; hell, you might lose your hair for a totally different reason and end up in the same place but without the benefits of having been on t that whole time. life is full of bodily changes like that. transphobes will fearmonger about the permanent changes of testosterone all day long but the truth is, there is no escaping permanent bodily changes. whether or not you go on t, your body now isn’t the same as it will be in 1 or 5 or 10 or 20 or 50 years, just like it isn’t the same as it was at any point in your life before now. our bodies are never supposed to stop growing and aging and changing throughout our lives. there’s no guaranteeing that we’ll love every single change our bodies go through, but that’s okay! there are so many things in life that are more important than the way our bodies look. even if you go on t and lose your hair and don’t like how it looks, your life won’t be ruined; plenty of other things will bring you joy and more than make up for the insecurities.
just think about the gender euphoria and relief from dysphoria that t could give you. would losing your hair be bad enough to outweigh all of that? or is it just the pressure of a society that decided balding is bad that’s making you fear one single change despite how much joy you could have if you let that fear go? only you can decide if going on t is worth the potential downsides for you, but i suspect that for most of us, the benefits of going on t far outweigh the possibility of side effects like hair loss happening down the line.
810 notes · View notes