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#i would say more but it would get sad really fast so I'll write it down maybe. or listen to some sad music and cry it out
doveotion · 2 months
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genuinely didn't think I'd make it to 18 let alone 22 so now I'm looking around like..... Now What
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claw-deen · 11 months
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when you're forced to leave your home (because of your parents):
i'm writing this because the sad, rebellious, angry teen in me wished gwen didn't forgive his dad so easily (are my daddy issues showing? idk are they?)
i'm also writing this for all of us who had to grow up too fast, and whose parents never accepted them as they are, for those who had to leave their own "home" because of that; i'm proud of you, you're great, keep living your life the way you want to <3
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miles would try to make you look on the bright side of the situation. your parents don't accept you for the way you are but he does, and he would make sure to remind you that every day. family is so important to him and making you feel like you belong somewhere would become his number one priority.
gwen is probably the most likely to understand what you're feeling, bonus point if the conflict concerns your dad. “fuck them. they weren't good for you in any way.” she would say. you're more than welcome to stay at her place for as long as you want.
pavitr is like miles, family is sacred to him and he will need some time to understand how can your own parents force you to leave your home. you're such a good person to him and he would be really supportive of you.
hobie would try to hide his joy at the news. he's a clever guy and has long noticed how your parents were messing with your mental health. nevertheless, he understands that this is a difficult time for you and suggests you stay at his place. “remember that I appreciate you okay? and if those fuckers are too stupid to realize how amazing you are then it's their problem.”
miguel would try to act like the adult he is and discuss with your parents, needless to say, he would return home angry. “they don't deserve you kiddo, one day they'll realize all the mistakes they made. you can stay here if you want, I'll take care of you.” he would say, as his dad mode gets fully activated. (scream in daddy issues)
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Thorn in My Side || Jessie Fleming
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warnings : mentions of injury and surgeries. insinuations of cheating and false accusations. angst. happy ending and smut will be in part two.
summary : you get injured, its Jessie's fault. or so you thought.
a/n : as i type this, i think i've figured out how to incorporate the smut! i'll get to writing as soon as this is posted! i'm not sure if it makes much sense, here's to hoping. enjoy.
“for your UCLA Bruins, number 21, Jessie Fleming!”
Jessie steps forward and smiles, waving to the flood of Bruins fans in the stands cheering them on. You clap with a scowl on your face, watching as the girls in the stands ogle and fawn over her. You’re admittedly jealous of her for reasons unbeknownst to you, but seeing the 5’5’ Canadian made your blood boil.
She was good on the football pitch and was smart to go along with it. Jessie had it all. Being called up for most of her time in school and playing for her national team made her well-known in the soccer world from the moment she was here in America.
She was ferocious on the grass, a fearless midfielder who put everything out there.
The game was a close one, tied at the half 2-2. There were lots of contact, tackles, and battles that made it clear to anyone watching that there was tension between you and Jessie. One always found the other; if one had the ball, the other wanted it.
You had possession, running towards goal. There was a flash of blue and you were on the ground yelling in pain, hands clutching at your ankle. There was a loud pop and your ankle began to swell. The trainers came over and were hauling you off on a stretcher almost immediately, the ref showing Jessie a yellow for the unsafe tackle. It wasn’t a red card because really you fell a little weird and her studs were nowhere near your ankle.
She looked genuinely sorry, taking your hand in hers as you were stretchered off. You were in too much pain to care, shoving her hand out of yours and your teammates pulling her away from you.
A broken ankle was what they said. It was a clean break but you needed surgery and that meant no more soccer for the season.
Just great.
They put you in a wheelchair before you head to the hospital, your parents are already at the stadium to take you. You hear the final whistle blow and your teammate rolls you in, the girls all feeling sad when you tell them the news. There’s a little Bruins blue in the sea of Trojans in front of you and there’s a Canadian standing there digging her cleat into the grass, wanting to apologize.
Megan and Kasey stand beside you just in case things get a little heated. Jessie steps forward and looks more sorry for you when she sees the bandages and you in a wheelchair.
“Is it broken?” she asks genuinely, looking at your leg and then at you.
“No thanks to you,” you snide, rolling your eyes at her. “What do you want now, Fleming?”
“I wanted to apologize, I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she says sincerely but you’re too bitter to hear her take ownership of her actions.
“You knew what you were doing, Fleming. You’ve always been out to get me our entire college career and now in our final year you finally get what you want!”
You don’t know the tears were starting until they did, pouring down your face hot and fast. She looked a little mortified and pale, backing away and saying she was sorry over and over before a sea of Bruins pulled her away to celebrate their win.
The whole car ride to the hospital you spent weeping, thinking about how you’re not going to be able to play your senior year out like you had hoped. But more so of the look of pure horror on Jessie’s face when you accused her of hating you so much that she would purposely hurt you.
She looked on the verge of tears. Like hurting you scared her.  
You scared her.
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“The break is clean, but rehab will take a while if you’re not careful,” said Dr. Jeff, the attending podiatrist.
“How long?”
“You’re looking at 14 to 16 weeks, kiddo. Two years if you’re stubborn like most of my patients are.”
“16 weeks sounds great.”
“Smart kid you got here,” the doctor tells your parents with a smile, “I’ll schedule you in for surgery today, you should be out of here by the end of the week.”
The doctor leaves and your mother begins to fuss, propping up pillows and getting your nurse to bring you more jello. Your father, on the other hand, has a look of all-knowing on his face.
“I’m sorry Dad,” you begin, head hanging low the moment your mother leaves the room.
“Don’t be sorry, peanut. These things happen. Better now than when you’re on a professional team, yeah?”
“She didn’t really make me break my ankle did she?” you ask, looking up at your dad who was rubbing your back as the tears filled your eyes again.
“It was the perfect tackle, kiddo. You just fell a little funny is all.”
“She looked so horrified when I said she did it on purpose,” you sob, leaning into your father’s stomach. He held you tight and cradled your head, your heart hurting more than your broken ankle, the face Jessie made when the words left your mouth etched behind your eyelids.
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There are plenty of flowers in your room the moment you wake from surgery. Lots of cards and get well soon balloons hung from the ceiling. You were still groggy when your teammates visited, Megan was sure to bring lots of Sharpies to sign your cast with, all the girls leaving a nice note for you on it.
There was an hour left for visitations and your parents just left to wash up at home. You were mindlessly scrolling through the terrible TV channel selections while finishing your 5th Jello cup when there was a knock on the door.
“Come in!” you yell, thinking it was a nurse coming to check your vitals again. What you didn’t expect was to see a brunette Canadian poking her head through the door.
“Hi,” she said sheepishly, standing by the door unsure if you really would want her to come in.
“What are you doing here?” you ask as kindly as possible, eyes flickering towards the clock above the door, “it’s late, why aren’t you back at school?”
“Spring Break, my parents are down from Canada so I asked to see you before we drove back,” she says quietly, stepping in a little more. “Can I come in?”
You nod, unsure if your mouth would be polite enough. Anger still seethed in your bones but the look of sheer horror on her face was still fresh in your mind.
“How bad was it?” she begins, still standing near the now-closed door.
“Clean break, should take 16 weeks if I’m careful.”
“That’s good. The doctors here are great.”
“They are quite convincing, they know how to get a patient to stay on their medical plan.”
“Did you get Dr. Jeff?”
“He accused me of being stubborn.”
Jessie laughs and you smile, a light blush creeping up your cheeks. It’s an adorable sound and her face of laughter replaces the one of fear you had burned into your mind.
“I’m really sorry for all this,” she begins but you cut her off.
“It wasn’t your fault, my dad said it was a clean tackle. I just fell funny.”
You looked up at her and saw the relief on her face and she stepped forward, taking your hand in hers. You took a deep breath and reciprocated her ownership of her mistakes, feeling the weight lift off your shoulders the moment you looked her in the eyes.
“I shouldn’t have said what I said the other day Jessie, that was not fair to you.”
“Heat of the moment love, don’t worry about it.”
Your heart clenches hard when the pet name slips out of her lips and you smile, hoping she didn’t see your eyes dilate and feel your skin warm up. She nods and bids goodbye just as her phone rings which tells you her parents are waiting outside.
You sit there giddy and a little starstruck as she disappears out of view. Your hand is warm from her touch and you can still feel her hand holding yours. You thump your head back and curse loudly, before grabbing your leg in pain temporarily forgetting that you were actually hurt.
You giggle and bite your lip, shaking your head when your phone dings.
Maybe: Jessie Fleming.
“You look cute when you’re flustered.”
You clap a hand to your mouth and smile, face heating up with a dark blush.
“You did this, you better fix it.”
“I think we can make that happen, love.”
You don’t think you slept much that night, texting till the sun came up. Your parents came in to check on you in the morning and found you with your phone still on call with Jessie but you two were asleep. You woke up to your doctors talking to your parents and discussing your rehab plan. There was another text from Jessie, making your heart skip a beat.
“You’re also very cute when you’re sleeping.”
Over the next few weeks, you two talked constantly. Jessie kept you company when you were bored at rehab and you kept her company while she was training on her own. You called her every night before bed, giggling and laughing well into the night most nights.
“How is rehab coming along?” Jessie asked as you were lying back on the examination table to relax your ankle. She was in her bed, looking as stunning as you had been denying yourself the chance to admit.
“Good, looks like I can put pressure on it by next week if Tiff lets me,” you say, side-eyeing your trainer Tiffany who was doing cupping on another teammate’s back.  
“Girl, I will hold your papers hostage, don’t test me,” Tiffany jokes, waving the lit fire stick at you.
“Yes ma’am I’ll be super-duper extra careful!” you answer with a salute, making Jessie laugh so loud it rings through the room. Most of your teammates know the thing you’ve got going with her and think it’s cute.
All but one.  
Megan.
She stood at the door listening to you ramble on about Jessie this and Jessie that, her blood boiling at the thought of you being buddy-buddy with the girl she believed to be the one who hurt you.
Megan was a freshman who was from Florida. She was a great pick from her high school team, and the best defender on the East Coast. She made the team here at USC and to say the least, she fit right in.
There was homogeny that wasn’t there before she joined and the linkup between you and her helped you take her under your wing. She looked up to you and was so ecstatic to play with you after watching you on TV.
She felt that Jessie took away her only chance to play with you before you graduated.
Jessie needed to pay.
“Hey, weird question,” Jessie starts, one night while you two were tucked in bed and on the phone with each other.
“Yeah?” you ask, turning over onto your side. Jessie looked a little concerned but you shrugged it off, the girl was known to constantly look worried.
“Someone sent me this photo but it’s from an unknown number, I thought it was weird.”
Sent.
You looked at it in shock.
It was you. Kissing a girl on the basketball team.
“Jess this isn’t me.”
“I’m not blind you know, that’s you.”
“Jessie, I swear this was doctored! I’ve never talked to this girl, let alone fucking kissed her!”
“Then why did the fucking photo come with a text that said, “She’s not who you think she is,”?”
“I don’t know! No one else but the girls know about you and me! I promise Jessie please!”
“I need some time to think. Leave me alone.”
She hangs up.
The tears fill your eyes as you stare at this photo. You don’t even think you’ve crossed paths with this girl, having not been the biggest fan of basketball. But your face was clearly there and hers was too. Her lips were on yours and you looked like you were enjoying yourself.
You think and you think hard. You didn’t go to any parties lately with your leg and you haven’t been to any games of theirs. You stared at the photo for hours, wracking your brain for some kind of explanation.
An explanation as to why Jessie looked so hurt at the thought of you with someone else.
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hauntedwitch04 · 5 months
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Just a Mirror
Sam Winchester x plus size!Reader
Words: about 6.3k words
Warning: saddy sadness, and some allusion to sexy time, eating disorder, hating on your own person, please be careful if you sensible about this themes
REQUEST: Hi :) I saw that your requests are open, and I was wondering if you could do a Sam Winchester x plus sized reader; an angsty fluffy friends to lovers that has some smut and reader hating herself in the mirror and possibly problems with eating
Author’s note: Hi love! Thank you @desicroft02 so much for your request. I felt really inspired by your idea love and I hope you like how it came out, if you don't find yourself with what i wrote, feel free to say it to me and I'll write to you a new one !
p.s.I got very caught up in the topic, since it is something I feel very close to. I was never the skinny girl, but with the years I've grown used to feel different to others girls, and even if sometimes I really hate what I see in the mirror, I kinda arrived to the point that I see both the flaws and the strenghts of my body and I love both, but some of my closest friend and this kinda of disorder and I tried to help them the way aI could so this one is for them too.
In case you need someone to talk to, I am always here, don't be afraid to seek help because often having someone close by to remind you that the volume of that evil voice we hear inside can be lowered or eliminated is important.
Requests are open I Ask
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Why?
This is the only question that floats in your mind, while, with thick tears in your eyes, you try to read the enormous book about whatever monster you are hunting with your friends in this little city, forgotten by God.
You and your childhood best friends are hunting some monster that you still haven't been able to figure out what it is, despite the fact that you are reading yet another list of monstrous animals in the story, while Dean and Sam are still out at the bar where you had decided to spend the evening, and from which you had decided to escape as quickly as possible, without giving any kind of explanation to the two hunters, holding back tears and trying not to meet their confused gaze
You and the boys have been friends since you were six and they were seven and eleven. You met on a rainy October day when you were still living at Bobby's house, after your father had died in a hunting accident after leaving you with him, and being his friend and seeing him almost as a brother he couldn't help but welcome you and raise you as if you were his own daughter.
Dean and Sam had just been left in the rain on the narrow dirt road by their father when you looked out and saw these two cold, sad, and at the same time angry children. You could see the resentment they felt for the man who looked less and less like a father and more and more like an army general, ready to train soldiers and not raise children. Immediately you went to Bobby and told him of the presence of those two unknown children who were in your driveway. He had immediately run to get them and brought them inside the house, worried that they would get sick from standing in the rain, and wondering why their father had left them there, without saying anything.
"He said he didn't have time to explain and that he had to get there as fast as he could, but that he would call you this evening." Said the older of the two once they were seated on the couch in what must once have been a beautiful dining room, and was now more like an ever-growing mountain of books. It is to your adoptive father that you owe all the culture and ability to read texts on the supernatural that most hunters would not even know how to open.
As he spoke you could see the blond child trying to hold back the sadness within himself and show himself as a big boy, almost pretending to understand why his father abandoned them like that without saying a word; in contrast, the one who was supposed to be the smaller of the two, with unruly brown hair, looked more like a beaten puppy, as he wetly moved his feet lazily on the floor, listening to what his brother had to say, but not hiding his sadness and anger at his daddy's decision.
"Baby, couldn't you get Sammy a glass of water for him while Dean and I go make a call for a minute?" Bobby then asked you suddenly, and you realized that you were lost in thought as you watched and studied those boys. You nodded quickly, trying not to let it show that you had spent all that time staring at them, as you heard Bobby's voice and that of the blond boy, apparently named Dean, drift away, only to hear the front door open and close.
After a few minutes you returned to the living room with a glass in your hand, and walked over to the brown-eyed boy, who was now looking at you and smiling shyly. You handed him the glass with a beaming smile, and he could do nothing but blush a little and retract his body a little, letting shyness take possession of him as he took the glass.
"Thank you." He told you in a faint voice.
"You're welcome." You replied as you sat next to him on the sofa.
"My name is Sam." He said, only to freeze and blush again as he held out a hand for you to shake, just as grown-ups do. You told him your name, and he commented that it was a very nice name, and that he liked it a lot, before going back to being silent and staring into the sad void.
You not being able to see what you considered a new friend feel so bad, you shamelessly asked him why his father had left him there and if that was why he was sad. He turned to look at you, and unknown how, he burst into tears, while with his hands he covered his face, not wanting to be seen as weak with someone he had just met, but you didn't give a damn.
Immediately you hugged him and listened to him talk about how his father was behaving with them, how his brother was struggling more and more to hide that he was tired of his parent's behavior, and how he was lonely and sad, constantly changing towns and seeing nothing but his family. That poor seven-year-old seemed to be thirty years old because of the problems he was telling you about, and as much as you were even younger because you were only six, you felt like you could understand him, because for a while that had also been your life before your father passed away.
You remained thus cuddled on the couch and fell asleep, lulled by the warmth of the fire slightly away from you and the new friendly presence that had entered your lives that afternoon, so much so that when Bobby and Dean returned after trying for a varied amount of time to contact John, and finally once succeeding in being insulted and put down by him, they both smiled at the sight of those two small and defenseless children embracing each other, as if to protect each other from the world. But no one knew that night before you fell asleep you had promised to protect each other forever, no matter how, when or why you would always be there for each other.
That was how you got to know the Winchester brothers, and the hatred for their father also began.
You awaken from your thoughts when you hear the motel door open and close, realizing that another time had gone into the whirlwind of memories and you were lost in remembering again when life was easy. You hear someone coming toward you with heavy footsteps, so you wipe away the tears you didn't know were there on your cheeks, which like small streams had almost made a furrow along your skin by now.
You sense right away who it is, but you don't have the strength to turn around so you continue to cry silently as you feel two arms wrapped around you, and Dean's warm body resting on your back as he leans down so that he can put his head in the crook of your neck and hold you better. Ever since the two of you met it was immediately like big brother and little sister between the two of you, and even now despite the fact that it has been a long time since you were children and in your spare time you enjoyed stealing cherries from the neighbor's tree, there is still that complicity and understanding between the two of you that once existed.
He knows exactly why you escaped so suddenly from the dive bar you were both in a few hours ago. Sam had seen a beautiful girl, the classic cover model of some magazine, slim and with all her shape in the right place, taking a drink at the bar, looking seductively at him as she put the drink straw between her lips. Sam's hormones had not let him repeat twice that clear call to fuck directly in the bar's bathroom, a bathroom from which you were coming out as he was sticking his tongue down the throat of that fake and at the same time perfect babe, who in his arms looked so small and yet in the right place, toned against his strong muscles, as opposed to how you would have looked with your shapely body. You couldn't stand there and watch the boy you love for so long now make out with someone else, so without explanation you left and went back to the motel where you took two bedrooms for the case. Usually you take two rooms only when Dean wanted to find someone to take to bed, unlike Sam who kept his sex life much more private than his brother, but since he and Cas had come out a few months ago you had not taken the second room, having practically grown up together and thus having no problem sharing space. That night, however, when you had arrived in the small town Sam had insisted on taking a second room, and stubbornly had not told his older brother why when he had asked him, and somehow your heart was preparing for what would happen, but in fact nothing would totally prepare you for what you would see in that bar and how your heart would break.
Dean squeezes you tightly, as if he is afraid you will disappear at any moment, and that heartfelt squeeze only makes you break the weak dam you had built when you saw him come in, and you burst into endless weeping.
"I know baby, I know." That's all the blond man can manage to say to you, as he gets you up and carries you toward the bed, so you can lie down and take off your shoes, before coming close to you and holding you in his arms, until exhausted, you fall asleep safe in Dean's strong hold, while he whispers soothing words to you.
The next morning you wake up with the sun gently caressing your face from over Dean's shoulder. You smile for a second, imagining what it would be like to wake up in the other Winchester's arms, and soon after your heart, as if pierced by an arrow, bleeds at the memory of what happened last night. You get up, shifting your friend's arms, and go to the bathroom to wash and freshen up, when you hear the door to your room open, and a male voice, known even too well, shout to your still sleeping friend.
"Dean, wake up!" Sam yells, and you behind the door hold a hand over your heart, just imagining her beauty after her usual morning run to stay in shape. Her long dark hair tied back in a light bun, her forehead sweaty and muscles still tense from exertion.
"I'm awake, you asshole." Dean replies, as you hear him get up and go get some coffee. "You could have deigned to make less noise last damn night, you know there were people here who wanted to sleep."
You hear Sam snort at his brother's words, then respond to him in an aggressive, cold tone.
"Well then there are people who wouldn't want to see you run off to fuck wherever we go, hold hands all the time or make love wherever you are. And you know something else too Dean, I thought you were a better person. Why her? Come on you've had a lot of girls, and it wouldn't cost you anything to find a thousand more, why did you have to choose her!?" Says the younger brother, before leaving the room, slamming the door behind him.
You close your eyes and try to control your breathing as you feel yourself lacking oxygen. You feel tears coming to your eyes, but you try with all your strength to push them back down. You take a few minutes to control your emotions as all you want to do is fall to the floor on your knees and scream until you can't hear yourself anymore, but you stay strong and open the door to see Dean immediately in front of you, looking pained and guilty, seeing your state.
"You didn't tell him." You say in a calm, quiet voice, not asking, but stating that your best friend had not told about his new relationship with our angel friend.
"I never found the right time." Dean tries to say, then looks down. "I never had the courage, every time I seemed to miss the words."
"Sam would never judge you, and you know that." You say as you feel a pang inside your heart, remembering the words the man you love had used a few minutes earlier. You feel your clothes sticking to your body like glue, too tight, so tight that you feel as if they have pre torn. You feel how the floor gives way under your feet, you feel how a billion eyes are on you ready to judge you, you feel something inside you break, but you can't let anyone but yourself see how mere words have hurt you, so you grit your teeth and continue to look at Dean stoically, as you feel a single and only tear escape down your face.
"I know, but I'm afraid in the same way, I don't want it to end like last time." Dean confesses, still looking at the floor, but crying clearly, as his words take you back to when you were nothing more than kids and he had come crying to you one night, confessing that he had fallen in love with a boy he had met during his last case, and that his father after finding out had beaten him so badly that his scars remained, and had forced him to watch pornographic movies, reminding him how "a real man acts." No one had ever seen you as angry as Dean, and Bobby when he heard you scream and came to watch that night as you swore to heaven that you would kill John Winchester. Dean had never told Sam about that episode, not wanting to worry him since he had just run away to study at Stanford, and asked you to do the same. It has been so long since that night, yet the memory of that pain and that man still frightens the wonderful person in front of you.
"But I swear I will. He has no right to think such things about you! I-I will tell him-" He begins to say, as he tries to wipe away the tears running copiously down his face. You, moved in turn and knowing that like you he too was remembering that fateful evening, take his face in your hands and bring his eyes to gaze fixedly into yours.
"No, you won't do it now, you will do it when you feel like it." You comment chuckling as you caress his face. He looks at you unconvinced and you see his inner battle inside whether to accept your proposal or to be as always too good and allow the world to kick him in the balls.
"Please be selfish for once. And if I serve as your cover, so be it, not that I would have had any chance with him anyway." You continue, smiling at him as you feel your heart slowly shatter. You see Dean ready to retort, but you have already disappeared back into the bathroom, crying silently. Once the bathroom door is closed, you stop to look at yourself in the mirror and realize how disgusted you feel about your body.
There is not a single thing about you that you like: your thighs, your arms, your stomach, your chest.
The more you look at yourself, the more you want to break that all-too-truthful mirror, which tells an unfiltered reality, a sad truth that for so long you had tried to ignore, but which now that Sam had spit it in your face you could no longer pretend not to see. So you decide at this very moment that everything was going to change, you don't know how, but it was going to happen.
So weeks go by, Sam still won't talk to you, and slowly you continue to sink into the stupid realization that he doesn't because only he, like you, can really see your body, and that he hates you for it, so now convinced that you have to change your body to be loved, you begin to eat less and less and more rarely, and what little you put in your mouth to make Dean happy, who sees you getting sadder and more tired, is rejected from your stomach just moments later when no one is looking at you. This situation hurts your body and your heart, but you do it so that you can look at yourself in the mirror without wanting to punch him, but things seem to get worse and worse. You look at yourself and you never fit, before you saw a body you didn't like, now beyond that you see a person you don't like.
Dean is getting more and more worried about you, seeing you getting paler and paler and thinner, but every time he tries to talk to you, you put on a smile and pretend that everything is going well and that the only reason your shirts now look huge on you is that you are working out more, but he knows that you never liked sports and that is why he knows you are lying to him. He tried to talk to Sam about what was going on, but all his brother managed to say by pouting was that if he needed relationship advice to go somewhere else and that he didn't want anything to do with the two of you.
Dean was on the verge of smashing the plate he was holding in his face and yelling at him to open his eyes and see that you love him more than Dean does right now and that he is fucking in love with their favorite angel, but then he had seen Castiel's face and knew he couldn't let him down after he asked him to keep a low profile and let as few people as possible know about their relationship.
Dean had never felt so lousy as deciding between the love of his life and a friend in need, but he knew that if you found out what he had done you would insult him, so he played it cool and moved on, as if nothing had happened, while he continued to try to take care of you, with little success.
It's been almost a month since Sam had said those horrible things, and you're not getting worse and worse, but in order not to show it in front of your friends, you keep doing the same things as before, trying to have the same cheerfulness.
You are now hunting a werewolf in a remote town in a state you don't even remember. Your body is weak, you haven't eaten anything Dean has brought you in the last three days taken at the various fast food restaurants and bars he had found along the way, and what little you had put in your mouth had gone down the drain shortly thereafter, hating yourself just for having the idea that you could eat something. You feel your eyelids as heavy as shutters, the muscles in your body are nonexistent, and what few are left ache from the mere effort of standing and walking, while your head throbs incessantly.
In this you are scouting around where the last victims had been killed, to see if you can find any more information, but so far you have not had much success, so you decided to split up.
You are barely holding the flashlight in your hand, too heavy for you, when you feel a sudden dizziness that forces you to lean against the wall. You stay a few minutes trying to catch your breath, eyes closed, breathing in the cool night air around you, when you hear a noise coming from a short distance away from you, like a dog growling. With difficulty you open your eyes and see before you a sight that is frightening to say the least: the werewolf you were looking for is looking at you ravenously, while a dark laughter rumbles from his belly to his mouth. Quickly you try to pick up the phone to call Dean or Sam, but unfortunately your mind is so clouded that you can't even do simple things like this and the phone slips out of your hands to the monster's feet.
"The Winchesters' little friend!" He says, seeing who you were trying to contact. "I've heard a lot about you, among the monsters you are known as their true weakness: so small and helpless, you wouldn't even survive my bite, I'll do you a favor and eat your miserable heart." He continues as he gets closer, and you do whatever comes to your chin at this moment, as you feel death coming slowly but comfortingly too, like an old friend you haven't seen in a long time. You scream Sam and Dean's name as loud as you can, hoping that at least one of them can hear you, your lungs aching from how much breath you had to use and your throat burning from the effort as you feel your strength failing.
You lean back against the wall again, this time with your back, and let yourself slide down to the floor, as your vision goes completely black and your ears become plugged as when you go too deep underwater, and the world seems more and more distant. You have one last flicker of life before you pass out completely in that dark alley, at the mercy of that monster, and you hear Sam's voice call out your name for a moment.
Your heart loses a beat, and then completely dark.
You awaken with a jump and a gasp as you sit up on the bed on which someone has carried you. Your head immediately begins to spin like a spinning top, and your vision fails again as you feel a warm hand settle on your shoulder and bring you back to lie down.
"Relax, you're safe now. It's okay." Says in a low, soft tone a rough voice, leading back to Sam. You, shocked to know he is there next to you, open your eyes with difficulty and find yourself lying on the bed in your room, in the bunker, as you see him kneeling beside your bed. His face shows the weariness he feels, but in his eyes shines a strange hope as he looks at you mixed with sadness. You place your gaze on the rest of the room and see your favorite chair, where you usually sit to read your books or do your research when you are tired of sitting in the library, covered with blankets and pillows, making you realize that your favorite giant has been sleeping there for what seems to be even more than a couple of days, otherwise everything looks the same, unchanged, and strangely everything now seems to make more sense with the presence of Sam and some of his things in the room. Immediately you slap yourself in the face at that thought, reminding yourself that he hates you, and that the reason he is here is because Dean will have had better things to do than watch you sleep.
You're about to tell him that he can leave, and leave you alone, knowing that he doesn't even want to be in the same room with you, as he has shown recently, and that in case his brother asks you, you won't tell him, but he beats you to the punch and starts talking.
"First of all I want to say I'm sorry, you don't even know how much, and I certainly understand if you never forgave me in your life, because I wouldn't forgive myself." Sam says, as you see tears forming in his eyes. You try to stop him, confused as to why he was making that speech, but he stops you in turn and begs you to let him finish.
"We found you just in time, by "luck," if you can call it that, that asshole had decided to torture you a bit before eating your heart, and we got there before he could do it, but when Cas touched you to treat you he said he didn't know if you would survive anyway because your body was too weak since you hadn't eaten for too many days. Dean insulted me and even beat me up a bit before explaining the matter from his point of view." You can't help but widen your eyes, and Sam chuckles seeing your expression, as two tears run down his face, and he darkens a little again before continuing, without looking you in the eye.
"Yes, he also told me about Cas, and also about that affair with our father to make me understand why you decided to cover for him."
You close your eyes for a moment, expecting a series of insults, but you only feel his lips rest on your hand, so you open them again and see him leaning over the bed, as you feel his tears coming hot to contact your cold hand.
"Thank you." The boy confesses in a whisper. "Thank you for everything you did for Dean, thank you for always taking care of him when I couldn't or was too blind and stupid to, I don't deserve to have you in my life."
You can't find the words, and so you do the only thing you can think of this moment, and you take his hand and squeeze it, while barely smiling at him.
"We will always have helped each other, you remember. Then Dean will be your brother, but it's like he's my brother too." You say as you pull his face up and force him to look into your eyes. You see him cry even harder, a few sobs escaping his lips, as he squeezes your hand even tighter.
"I'm sorry, I promised I would always protect you, and instead I was so stupid and jealous that I didn't realize what I was doing." He tells you again, only to stop for a moment and look at you this time with a resolve he lacked until a few seconds ago. "Why did you stop eating? How come you covered your mirror in the bathroom? Dean found the remains of the one from before in the garage, thought you didn't like it and got a new one, so he changed it for you."
Immediately you remember, one night in a rage after looking at yourself in the mirror for the umpteenth time, you had started punching it until it had become nothing but stardust under your bleeding fingers, and the next day when you had returned from your walk with the dog, you had found a new one, with a note from Dean who had said that seeing that you had taken it off, thinking that you didn't like it anymore, he had bought a new one, so realizing that you couldn't escape that vicious cycle and knowing that if it happened one more time it would arouse even more suspicion, you had simply covered it up, and hoped that no one would ever learn of that dirty secret, and instead, here it all was for all to see.
You look at Sam in those damned puppy-dog eyes of his, and burst into desperate weeping. He, seeing you in this state, instinctively picks you up and holds you in his arms.
"I disgust myself Sam." You finally manage to utter those damn words, and immediately you feel as if your soul lightens as you feel his arms grip your body even tighter as if you could disappear at any moment, and at the same time he does it with an innate delicacy, as if it were a precious crystal figurine that can be broken under his gaze. "I'm disgusted by my body, I'm disgusted by every single thing about me, and you're disgusted by it too, don't lie to me. I thought if I lost weight things would get better, but they don't, I feel worse and worse." You continue, while somehow trying to get away from him.
"In what sense would you disgust me? When would I have ever said such a thing?" He asks confusedly as he looks at you, tears have dried on his face. His eyes range and seem to want to imprint your every little detail in his memory. His gaze makes you blush as you try to find the words to tell him how his words have done nothing but unleash a storm that had long been locked up somewhere inside you and was just waiting to be released. So you take a deep breath and tell him everything, while he looks at you attentively and astonished, his arms still around his body, as if he needs reminding that you are there beside him, and that you are not just a product of his mind.
You tell him everything, every little thing you had felt hearing his words while you were locked in that damn bathroom, your feelings and emotions in the month to follow, along with all the thoughts and all the actions you had put in place in the hope that he would no longer hate you, and that maybe you would hate yourself less, too. He starts crying again, and hides his face in the crook of your neck.
You stay a few minutes clasped to each other, in silence, after you have poured your heart out in front of him, ready to suffer the consequences, when he takes your face in his hands and stares at you steadily with those chocolate-colored eyes of his, and for a moment you feel your breath short.
"Don't ever think of such a thing again. Never. You are perfect exactly as you are, there is nothing I would change about you, there is nothing I don't love about you." At his words you stand still, as if petrified, afraid that a single movement of yours could mean the breaking of this beautiful illusion. "Yes, I am tired of holding all this in, I love you, I love you so much that I am sick just thinking about not having you near me for a second, I love you so much that I would have been ready to kill my brother for stealing the girl I love all my life, I love you so much that I would be ready to climb the highest mountain in the world and scream it to everyone!" He continues as he stands up on the bed, and begins to move his arms quickly, just enough to make you laugh. At the sound of your laughter he turns to look at you, and smiles even more, to return next to you on his knees and cup your face in his hands. "I love every little, tiny thing about you madly. I'm crazy, crazy in love, and I was a fool because I was so convinced that getting away from you would be better for you, that I didn't realize that you were suffering because of me, and I'm sorry. On the one hand I would like to let you go and make you happy, but on the other hand I am an extremely selfish being and I only want you for myself." He continues as he rests his forehead on yours, whispering the last words. "I love you, and I'm sorry."
You look at him, and not even realizing what you are doing, you take his face in your hands and bring his lips to yours. The kiss you exchange arises as sweet and gentle, like two flames dancing in an elegant dance side by side, testing each other's reaction, in the same way your lips move over each other, slowly tasting that new sensation. You feel her soft lips caressing yours, until neither of you has a single breath left.
"I love you too if you hadn't realized it idiot." You comment making him laugh. "I love you, and for so long I would have preferred not to because it made me sick, yet I could do nothing but love you. The only reason that kept me alive was my love for you, even though it was also my poison." You continue by looking into his eyes, and you see the pain in his.
"If you forgive me, I will do everything to correct what I have done." He looks at you, with a penitent and pleading gaze, as he takes your hands in his, before you release one and place it on his right cheek, and he instinctively leans into your hands, seeking that simple contact.
"I've already forgiven you moron." She laughingly comments, before throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him again, but this time the air in the room is different. The atmosphere becomes more erotic and intriguing. You feel his hands carefully explore your body, running his hands down your sides from your breasts to your butt, where he rests his large, warm hands, before slipping them under your T-shirt and caressing the skin of your back, making you shiver. You feel his hand rise higher and higher to the level of your bra and undo the hook that held it, but then he stops. Parting your lips he looks into your eyes for a second.
"If you don't feel up to it it's perfectly fine honey, we can stop here-"Sam says unsure, but you stop him.
"Afraid it's too much for you Winchester?" You ask as you raise your eyebrows, and see him smile, before resting his lips on yours, then creating a trail of kisses from your mouth to the chest exposed by the shirt you are wearing, down your neck.
"God, how I've missed you." He comments between kisses, but then stops again and looks at you seriously. "Anyway, I wasn't kidding myself, if you don't feel comfortable we can stop here."
You look at him, in his eyes only the pure affection and love you feel for him, and then put an end to all his doubts.
"I want to do it Sam." You say in a whisper as you take the bottom of his shirt with your hands and slowly slip it off, thus also dropping the bra he had unfastened a few minutes ago. "I want to do it with you Sam."
He looks at you and doesn't let you tell him twice, and he resumes his attack on your neck, leaving obvious signs of his passage, and then moves on to your breasts.
"God, you're perfect." He whispers before teasing one of your nipples. You moan softly at that sensation, feeling his teeth clench, his lips kiss and his tongue lick every single inch of your body, worshipping you like a goddess, a queen, tasting every inch of your skin.
This wonderful moment is interrupted, however, by the unannounced entrance of Dean, who, seeing the scene of his brother splayed across your body as he kisses your breasts, and with one hand explores the rest of your body, while you clutch his long hair in your hands, moaning his name shamelessly, lets out a small scream, before closing the door again.
"Damn you guys could warn." Comments the older brother, as Sam with speed grabs a blanket to cover you.
"Should we announce? You're the one who entered the room unannounced!" Sam replies in turn, making an expression that makes you laugh. "You can still come in now jerk."
"Bitch." Dean retorts, to open the bedroom door again and have a stupid grin plastered on his face. "So, I see Sam hasn't exactly figured out how to talk and resolve a situation, usually the mouth should be free to talk, not busy sucking-"
"You try to say one more Winchester word and I'll tell everyone about Christmas with Cindy McWood." You threaten him, and see him whiten, before his smile returns to its former self.
"Well what can I say in that case guys, good conversation and be sure to use protection, I'm not ready to be an uncle." He says closing the door behind him, then opening it again. "Not that I wouldn't make a great uncle, but I would say I'm too young and then-"
"Out!" You and Sam scream in unison, and the only thing Dean does is give you the finger before walking away. The two of you stand still for a moment weighing what just happened and burst out laughing, before Sam's lips find yours again.
"Where were we?" He asks you next, and you can't help but smile and moan at feeling his lips on you again.
It's shaping up to be a very interesting night, long but interesting, and you know that in the end maybe by tomorrow morning you can slowly look at yourself in the mirror, seeing the reflection of the man you love behind you supporting you.
TAGLIST
@supernatural-lvr @itzdarling @newtdumbledoorstarksoot @evansstan-akya
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gffa · 9 months
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I would like to say I've slowed down a bit on BATFAMILY fic over the last month, but that's kind of a lie because fandom has put out some absolute banger longer fics and I've been reading a lot of comics (can you believe how many comics I've been enjoying?? I have never felt so spoiled for choice!), so I still feel like I'm inhaling everything as fast as I can go and it's GREAT. It's a constant stream of crying about fictional characters in canon, crying about fictional characters in sad fic scenarios, crying about fictional characters in happy fic scenarios, and crying about fictional characters because other people care about our babies, too. Also, I have decided I no longer have a Dick Grayson Problem that you must all suffer through to get some variety in the recs, but instead I have a Dick Grayson Solution. You're all welcome. But I'll mix it up a bit just for you guys, so hopefully you find something fun to read no matter your fave and have a good time, because this fandom has been knocking it out of the park with the fic that has given me a good time, READ AND CRY WITH ME, OKAY. BATFAM FIC RECS - BABY DICK IS THE CUTEST FERAL ROBIN I'M NOT HEARING ANY ARGUMENTS: ✦ Grounded by WingFeathers, dick & bruce & clark & wally & ma kent & pa kent & background clark/bruce & cast, 60.4k     In the early days of the Justice League, Bruce is out more and more frequently on League missions, and Dick (age 13) is growing more and more restless and lonely stuck at home. His friends can't know he's Robin, and there are no superheroes Dick's age--or so he thinks, until Bruce receives a call from Barry, desperately seeking mentorship advice. Dick asks to meet the Flash's new sidekick, but Bruce refuses; a fight ensues, ending in Dick getting grounded. One week in Gotham off patrol, and then two weeks alone, far from Gotham... at a little family farm in Smallville, Kansas. And hey, if a certain Midwestern speedster sidekick just so happens to turn up, that'd be just fine. Or would it?
✦ trust in serum by deargalileo, dick & bruce & alfred & clark, 15.7k     "I believe the serum is a mixture of chemicals that compels the target to be completely honest, even against their own will." "You got hit with a truth serum?" Bruce winced as Dick's voice reached a high pitch. "Really?!" "Yes, really."
✦ Storge by CKBookish, dick & bruce & alfred, 5.4k     “Your dad must have his hands full with you.” Elizabeth Ribbons leaned forward and patted Dick’s shoulder, as he reached for yet another slice of cheesecake from a passing waiter’s tray. Bruce fixed his eyes on the ice sculpture that hid him from view. It suddenly seemed like the most interesting design in the world. The soft lines of the ice on the otherwise insignificant over sized swan seemed like a lead shield... Because Dick would read it easily in his expression. He wanted to be Dick’s dad. But he wasn’t.
✦ Robin Wings by JeanjacketCarf, dick & clark & bruce & cast, 3.4k     Clark wakes in a panic, unsure what has jarred him from his sleep. Until he notices Robin's absence from Batman's side.
✦ Hey! He Attempted a Coup! by PandasandDucks13, dick & bruce & clark & justice league & cast, 6.8k wip     What if Dick Grayson was a Kryptonian?
✦ grief mosaic by newsical, dick & bruce & alfred & leslie, 1.3k     Grief paints Dick’s days in muted shades of red and yellow and green. He grows to expect sleepless nights and sweat-drenched sheets. In turn, he finds late night companions in Alfred, with his old movies and stories, and Bruce, who wears the colors of his own grief to prevent its spread to others. Dr. Thompkins writes a letter to Bruce diagnosing Dick with PTSD.
✦ before this ends by emavee, dick & bruce, 2.5k     Mr. Wayne would definitely be angry if he knew what Dick was planning, but it’s not as if Dick is going to be here long anyway. Might as well take the opportunity to fly one last time, while he still has the chance.
✦ A Light at the End of the Tunnel by dizarys, dick & bruce & alfred, 1.6k     Maybe the parenting and grieving books he skimmed the highlights from last week–and Alfred–were right. Why else would Dick have approached their newest case with such ferocity and determination? At first, Bruce chalked it up to empathy. Seeing another child crying after his parents were murdered was something Batman and Robin could relate to.
✦ Last Night of Sadness by gothamshero (emhyr), dick & bruce & slade & william cobb, 6.1k     Dick Grayson has to take liberties when he’s a civilian, but he still knows when he’s being followed.
✦ Starlings in Winter by FromStarstuff, dick & bruce & clark & cast, 18k wip     When Dick was eleven years old he ran away from Gotham. No one could quite figure out why. Take your pick; there was a fight at school, a circus in town, and a song he can’t remember the melody of. Eleven-year-old Dick Grayson was flooded with grief, swimming in it, perpetually drowning. One day it was too much.
✦ What Defines A Father by Browniesarethebest, dick & bruce & justice league & cast, 7.7k wip     Batman hasn't known the newly formed Justice League long enough to trust them, but he's willing to put everything on the line when the one thing he cares for most is taken somewhere he can't easily follow.
✦ Stolen Son by springfox (dallystrings), dick & bruce & cast, 8.6k     Bruce’s heartbeat sped up, but he leveled his breathing to remain clear headed. After another thirty seconds he abandoned the cart and walked briskly through the store, searching every row in a growing panic. “Dick?” he called, “Dick, can you hear me? Where are you, chum?”
BATFAM FIC RECS - ADULT BATSON AND BATDAD ARE MY KRYPTONITE, I FOLD LIKE WET CARDBOARD FOR THEM: ✦ Learning Experience by strikeyourcolors, dick & bruce, 2.3k     "Does it ever get easier?" Dick asks. Bruce isn't technically old enough to be his father biologically, but those deep blue eyes are looking at him as a child beseeching a parent. "Some nights I feel like I can't do this anymore, Bruce. I can't be Nightwing."
✦ Rainbow Puppies by zombiesbecrazy, dick & bruce, 2.4k     Bruce really wanted to hate Pamela Isley right now, but all that he could focus on was how much he admired the way she passionately fought for her beliefs and how he could applaud her application of her educational background into practical endeavors to her cause, however misguided. Being hit with one of Ivy's toxins has Bruce babbling like a fool.
✦ the business of the very few by dustorange, dick & bruce, 4.2k     “I was trying,” Bruce says, “to respect your privacy.”
✦ notches in the door frame by dizarys, dick & bruce, 2.1k     Bruce hadn't been prepared for his days or nights to feel so empty. And he wasn't sure how to interact with the young man before him now. Because Robin didn't need Batman anymore. --- A patrol gone wrong forces Bruce and Dick to finally talk about Robin becoming Nightwing and feelings they'd been avoiding.
✦ No Comfort in the Shade by mx_chrx99, dick & bruce, 3.4k     Dick Grayson is having a hard time and Bruce is there to help.
✦ The Long Distance by takadainmate, dick & bruce, 1.2k     Down here they're not Batman and Nightwing. They’re Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson. But they still fight.
BATFAM FIC RECS - EVERYBODY LOVES DICK: ✦ tender will fall by dizarys, dick & bruce & donna & jason & cast, 3.5k     When the Titans are devastated in an attack, they go to Batman in a last ditch effort to rescue one of their own.
✦ the hardest part by emavee, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & cass, no powers au, 5.8k     Dick is dreading his eighteenth birthday and everything that it means for him as a foster kid. His time with his family is running out, and he needs to be prepared for what comes next, to be on his own again.
✦ 5 Times Dick Grayson Was Grateful for His Insomnia + 1 Time He Wasn't by avengemyheart, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & alfred & wally, 5.7k     Dick can't sleep, but that's a good thing. He finds himself helping the people he cares about late at night throughout the years. Eventually though, everyone realizes just how intense his insomnia can get. Or: A 5 +1 thing about Dick's insomnia.
✦ A Darker Shade of Gotham by JackHawksmoor, dick & bruce & tim & alfred, 8.3k wip     Dick and Tim are stuck in a crappy alternate universe where most of the heroes they know are dead, Bruce Wayne's bad health meant he never became Batman, and Tony Zucco runs Gotham City's underworld. When Dick is shot by the mob, they take a risk and go to Bruce for help. Alternate Bruce didn't have children, but as he gets to know Dick and Tim, he starts wishing he did.
✦ leave as though fire burns under your feet by perissologist, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & cast, read the tags, 33k     That glow is gone, now. Gone from Dick’s skin, gone from inside him. It used to shine out of him, out of all the cracks the world put in him. But now Bruce looks down at him, and he is as dark and cold as a snuffed star. That’s what gets to him the most—not how cold the morgue is under its colorless fluorescent lighting, or the cloying smell of formaldehyde that clogs his throat. It’s how still Dick is, on the cold, sterile surface of the examiner’s table. It’s unnatural. The boy never learned how to sit still.
✦ papers say it's doomsday by dottie_dc (dottie_wan_kenobi), dick & bruce & donna & cast, 2.5k     Half-laughing at his own joke, Nightwing starts to say, “He just doesn’t—” In the space of one word, one breath, and the next—the world ends.
✦ Ibn al Xu'ffasch by hellsreluctantheir, dick & bruce & damian & jason & cast, 16.2k     Batman when they’d thought Bruce was dead was one kettle of fish. Batman when the original Batman was around was another. In his head, Robin—perched on a gargoyle next to him—tutted like an eighty-year-old, and rolled his eyes like the kid he was.
BATFAM FIC RECS - BATKIDS ALL HAVE MANY SIBLINGS AND THEY'RE ALL PETTY ASSHOLES AND/OR WONDERFUL BABIES AND I LOVE THEM WITH MY WHOLE BEING: ✦ our aspirations are wrapped up in books by theragingstorm, damian & barbara & cast, 1.8k     Damian's been confined to bed rest. Someone unexpected helps him.
✦ remind me why I'm here again? by dizarys, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & bernard(/tim), 3.5k     Jason's at a Wayne gala. He doesn't want to be. Good thing his siblings are there too. "Were we mean?" Dick mused, "Or just being big brothers?" "He's holding your hoodie hostage." "You're right. We went too easy on him."
✦ put away childish things by bittlebarnes (monroesherlock), dick & damian & clark & jon & barbara & ma kent, 7.2k     "I was sent here as a punishment, surely," Damian deadpans. "Are you feeling punished?" Martha sounds like she’s laughing at him. Unacceptable. "Absolutely."
✦ a hero by hellsreluctantheir, bruce & dick & jason, 15.5k     Dick Grayson died in Amusement Mile. Four years later, Jason Todd is Robin. But he's not dressed in the costume when he hears about a new player in Crime Alley; a man in a red helmet.
✦ Improvise A Symphony by cabezas_de_vaca, bruce & dick & alfred & cast, 5.5k     Or: three generations of Wayne and Wayne-adjucacent men do their absolute best.
✦ The Second Stage by nightwalker, tim & jason & bruce & dick & damian, 8.2k     All Tim wants is to take a shower, get something to eat, and try to wear off the effects of Ivy's stupid pollen in peace. So of course tonight is the night Jason decides to start acting like a brother.
BATFAM FIC RECS - I CUT MY TEETH ON DICK & TIM AS CLOSE BROTHERS AND NO ONE WILL NOT TAKE IT FROM ME: ✦ Red Letter Day by silverwhittlingknife, dick & tim & damian & cast, 41.8k wip     Dick Grayson, stressed pseudo-parent to a preteen assassin, tries to solve the case of Damian’s Mysterious Wednesday. He never expected it to help him fix his relationship with Tim, too. (... Though only after everything fell apart first.)
✦ I know it's just a number but you're the eighth wonder by orphan_account, dick & tim, 1.2k     Dick gets sick. Set before their lives implode on them, so Dick’s Nightwing and Tim’s still an itty bitty Robin.
✦ it's been a long time now (i'm with you) by centreoftheselights, dick & tim, 1.8k     Tim has been noticing some strange things about his life. He isn't the only one.
✦ Little Do You Know by sardonic_sprite, dick & tim & ra's, 2.2k     "So," Tim said quietly. "You're here to break me out I guess." "Yes," came out in a choked sob. "Then you're wasting your time."
✦ pain/release by unchosenone, dick & tim, 4k     Dick goes to check on a wayward brother in the middle of yet another Gotham Toxin (TM), and Tim has a bad time.
✦ I'd Fly Far Away From Here by Sohotthateveryonedied, dick & tim & jack, 3.5k     Tim stacks his fries onto his burger patty in a crosshatch, covering every spare inch in a layer of salty potato and grease. “It all happened kind of fast. Dad and I got into this huge fight, and it’s not very dignified to go back upstairs for my wallet and then storm out.” Dick is quiet while he eats his sandwich, trying to figure this out. “Dick?” “I’m just—trying to think if I should call Bruce first or your dad.”
✦ A Collective End to a Harmony by 061828, dick & tim, 1.2k     A drop of water falls into an ocean, a house’s wooden skeleton has its last nail screwed into place, an old book’s first page finally crumbles off, and Tim Drake turns twenty years old.
✦ young numb and broken by wingedgrace, dick & tim & cast, read the tags, 1.1k     His bare feet were covered in cold, damp sand, and he could barely feel them. Well, he could feel them, but they didn’t seem to be connected to his body. Or maybe it was him that wasn’t connected to his body. (or: poor Dick Grayson needs some love and a chance to catch his breath.)
✦ there's an endless road to rediscover by Zahri, dick & tim & cast, 1.2k     Sometimes the only way to show that you've moved on and forgiven each other is to take a flying tackle from the ceiling. Dick and Tim know each other's demonstrations of affection. Damian doesn't.
✦ spread your wings by wingedgrace, dick & tim & cast, 2.1k     “Why did you give Robin to Damian?” Dick pinched his nose. He’d started to pick up some of Batman’s habits, whether he realized it or not. “Tim, we’re not talking about this again. We’re talking about how you’re off on this… quest, to prove that Bruce is still alive. And I just want to talk. Come home.” Tim didn’t budge. “Why did you give Robin to Damian?”
BATFAM FIC RECS - DICK/BABS FOREVER AND YOU CAN SHUT IT IF YOU DISAGREE, THEY'RE ADORABLE TOGETHER: ✦ Taking Turns by mx_chrx99, dick/babs, 2.3k     Tim had practically begged Dick to get a flu shot. He probably should've listened.
✦ The Summer of Her Discontent by dotfic, dick/babs, 7.8k     Batgirl contends with her feelings after Dick leaves Gotham.
✦ Thirteen Hours by dotfic, dick/babs, 7.9k     Set during "Knight Time," during their trip to Romania, Dick and Babs start healing some old wounds.
✦ The Night the Lights Went out in Gotham by dotfic, dick/babs & bruce & tim & jim & cast, 13.8k     "When it comes to emotions, even great heroes can be idiotic."-from Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
✦ Regular People by zombiesbecrazy, dick/babs, 1.6k     All sorts of people can enjoy a good sunrise over the city after a long night. Why should heroes of Gotham be any different?
✦ strawberry milkshakes by brandywine421, dick/babs & bruce, 2.8k     Why is Bruce bringing Dick? It's not an emergency alert, or medical - just an alert. She should have put in her comm - if it was a simple pit stop they had safehouses, but - Batman dangles Dick's keys in her direction at the door but she's glad he didn't come through the window. She looks past him to catch Dick's attention and - something's wrong.
BATFAM FIC RECS - I WILL DIE ON THE HILL THAT TIM DRAKE'S TRUE LOVE INTEREST IS CONNER KENT AND NOBODY CAN STOP ME, NOT EVEN GOD: ✦ Stay for breakfast and also forever by Ididloveyou_once, tim/kon & bruce, 2k     Conner turns up in the middle of the night after a mission gone wrong. Tim learns that seeing Conner cry makes him feel like his heart has been torn out of his chest.
✦ Think Cupid, But Aim Lower by NevernightUnderRainbows, tim/kon & bruce & cassie & bart, 2.3k     Or, the Batfamily will make sure Tim gets his guy, even if it entails a lot of beating around the bush, dropping hints so veiled that they can be misconstrued surprisingly easily, and basically giving the bird and his clone boy a headache in the process
✦ The Once and Future Bat by LilliputianDuckling, tim/kon & some kon/cassie & dick & roy & martha & anita & cast, 16k     Tim realizes it was a mistake to clone Conner when he ends up with a baby on his hands at sixteen years old. Well, Jackie's his now. Where does he go from here?
✦ there you were by mindshelter, tim/kon & cassie & bart & martha, 19.5k wip     “You know, the cool thing about me,” Tim says, voice gone quiet and petal-soft, “is that even when I didn’t care whether I lived or not, I was pretty goddamn hard to kill.” Kon sighs, eyes glued to his feet. His hand is still encircled around Tim’s arm, trailing up to the bend of his elbow.
✦ time flies by by Laroyena, tim/kon & clark & jon & lex, 6.5k     Jon Kent is Superboy. Tim's gut instinct tells him that's wrong. (Timkon fix-it where reboot!Tim misses Kon like a phantom limb. And then he gets him back.)
✦ Tangled by thewhitestag, tim/kon, NSFW, 4.1k     Kon doesn’t want to be that person, always waiting, wondering if the next time will be more than just two friends messing around.
✦ you put your arms around me and i'm home by merils, tim/kon, 4.5k     Kon's acting a little odd after a close call. Tim ponders the potential causes.
BATFAM FIC RECS - TAKE THE ANGST DIAL, TURN IT UP TO ELEVEN, AND BREAK THE KNOB OFF, THAT'S WHAT I'M HERE FOR: ✦ Bereft by glassofwater, dick & bruce & cast, 4.7k     Laying on his back, shoulder brushing up against debris, Dick closes his eyes briefly. He doesn’t want to die, has no intention to do so tonight, but he is scared. The blood on his side pumps out of him with each thump of his heart, beating at a rate too fast for Dick to properly count. That shouldn’t be right, he shouldn’t even be awake and struggling at the moment, but the luck that hangs over Gotham is a mysterious one; it doesn’t favor anyone and yet…
✦ fun and games by prismatical, bruce & dick & jason & tim & barbara & stephanie & duke & cast, 78.6k     The Joker's loose, and the Batman isn't in Gotham. The family struggles to hold itself together as everything else spins out of control.
✦ Bone Weary by TheSilencer, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & duke, 8.1k     "You cannot reach out until you reach in." Dick assumed the words were metaphorical. They weren't. Or Dick Grayson is cursed, and the cure is not any better.
✦ What These Hands Have Done by WinterSky101, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & alfred & cast, 14k     Dick is mind controlled into attacking his family. Unsurprisingly, he takes the whole thing very badly.
✦ All The Small Things by Geeves, dick & bruce & damian & cast, 20.1k     After Bruce's return to the Bat, Dick and Damian have to deal with just being brothers, but things are just a bit too messy to be that easy
✦ All Our Broken Parts by mx_chrx99, bruce & dick & jason & dick/babs & cast, 28.1k wip     Jason will not let this happen again. He can't. But what if he's already too late?
770 notes · View notes
greensagephase · 3 months
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Valentine's Day (Nonviolent Communication One-Shot)
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x SpiderFemaleReader (colleagues to friends to lovers; they're currently in their friendship era, so no romance but we still have soft Miguel!) Summary: Just a rainy Valentine's Day surprising your friends with baked sweets because Valentine's doesn't have to be only about romance. Word Count: 4,311 Short A/N: This is a one-shot for my Nonviolent Communication fanfic but can be read as a standalone. As I mentioned above, they're in their friendship era, so there's no romance, but Miguel lowkey got me blushing anyway soo! Warnings: None. Just reader and Miguel being their usual sweet and caring selves to each other. Masterlist Songs inspo: "Just the Two of Us" - Grover Washington, Jr., Bill Withers (I don't know why but this song just came to mind while writing this, so just look at it as a platonic song for now :) ) Fanfic's official music playlist:
Spider webs shaped like hearts decorate corners. Holographic hearts are displayed at the cafeteria. Even some of the tables have little decorations, more than likely set up by a small group of Spider members that usually take time of their day to do things like holiday decorating within the Spider Society to make the workplace “fun.” As to the holographic hearts out and about, you imagine those have to do with Lyla, who has been all too excited about Valentine's because of her heart-shaped glasses.
You walk through the cafeteria, past occupied tables where fellow Spider members sit. A reusable bag hangs from your shoulder in which you carry baked treats. You've successfully handed out containers filled with them to the majority of your friends, with the exception of Peter B. and MJ, and Miguel. You continue to search for Peter B., certain that you’ll find him here. As you walk, your gaze turns to the windows. It’s a cold and rainy day in Nueva York, and it’s also Valentine’s Day, which prompts a memory to flash through your mind, one that you put away for now. You focus on your goal: find Peter B. and then Miguel.
You slow down as you hear Peter's voice from somewhere, so you look around until you spot him talking with another member, carrying Mayday like always.
“Alright, pal, I'll see you around,” he says with his signature smile, giving the other member a pat on the back before they part ways.
Mayday sees you first and immediately begins to wiggle around, making Peter notice you. He grins and the two of you meet halfway, Mayday already reaching for you. You smile and upon meeting them, you accept one of her hands and play with it.
“Good morning, Mayday,” you say, greeting her. She squeals in delight before repeating “morning” now that she’s speaking two-word sentences. It’s amazing how much time has passed, how much she has grown, which you don’t let yourself think too much about. Instead, you focus on her attire for the day. She's wearing pants and tiny boots, and best of all, a cute pink sweater with red hearts printed all over it, showcasing Peter's spider symbol in the center of them.
It's no longer surprising. Mayday's closet is filled with spider-theme clothes, which has made you wonder if Peter has his own merchandise creator. You feel like it would be a thing Peter B. would definitely have.
“Hey, you heard that? She said ‘morning’ - that’s another word!” Peter says happily. “Daddy is so proud of you, honey! Wait till MJ hears about this!”
You chuckle. “It’s amazing. Before we know it she’ll be speaking full sentences.”
“Okay, that just made me, like, really sad. She’s growing up too fast,” Peter says quietly, holding his daughter close to his chest. His gaze is gentle as he stares at her. “It’s part of life, I know, but…”
“I’m sorry to have brought it up,” you say gently as you give him a gentle pat on his arm. “Would some baked treats make it better?”
That seems to get Peter and Mayday’s attention. “Baked treats?”
“Brownies. For Valentine’s,” you say, pulling out a container and offering it to him. “I baked some brownies for everyone.”
“Totally feel better now,” Peter says with a grin, accepting the box.
”For you and MJ, and maybe Mayday if she can eat them,” you say. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”
“Happy Valentine’s! Hey, they’re even heart-shaped! MJ is gonna be so happy. You know we all love your baking,” Peter says as he gets one out and eats it. Once he finishes eating, he says, “So amazing!”
“Glad you like them! Make sure to save some for MJ, though,” you reply with a smile. “Have you seen Miguel?”
Peter looks around, closing the box of treats. “I saw him earlier. He was going to the Go Home Machine room to check something but he might be back at his lab already,” he responds. His gaze flickers to your bag, taking notice of at least two boxes left in there, though he doesn’t ask anything.
“Alright, I’ll go check if he’s there. I’ll see you in a bit,” you say, saying goodbye to Peter and Mayday for now.
“See ya!”
You walk out of the cafeteria and head to Miguel’s lab, reaching it in no time. You stop at the entrance and as always, you call for Lyla to have her ask Miguel if you can enter. You never walk in unannounced out of respect, even though Lyla has told you that you should stop. Even Miguel has hinted at it, at the fact that you can just walk in, yet, you do it anyway out of respect.
“Y/N! Miguel isn’t here. He’s at the Go Home Machine room. Something’s up with the machine but he should be done in a few minutes. He said you can go in,” Lyla says, appearing suddenly and floating in midair.
“You asked him already?” you ask, amused.
“Yep. I think he’s even going to send you a message because he thinks you might not believe me when I tell you he says to go in.”
And of course, right after she says that you receive a notification from your gizmo, alerting you of a new message. A message from Miguel.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes. Please wait for me * inside *** the lab.”
You smile softly at his emphasis to wait inside. He knows you too well.
“See?” Lyla says with a soft smirk. “So, come on in! I see you have the goods.”
You laugh softly as you enter the lab, carrying your bag with the last two heart-shaped containers you bought a few days ago to package the baked treats. The containers were easy to hide in Gabriel’s old bedroom, the same one that’s your current temporary room since your building caught on fire a few weeks ago. Luckily, your floor was spared but lower floors did not have the same luck. Now, the building is under cleaning and reconstruction, a process that will take at least two months to finish. Or at least that’s what your landlord said. You’ve been staying in Nueva York with Miguel in his penthouse after he offered his place countless times. He assured you that you were welcomed to stay for however long you needed to, whether that was days, weeks, or months. There was even a moment you swear he almost said years, before he stopped himself.
So, you’ve been staying at Miguel’s penthouse in Gabriel’s, a man that you never met and unfortunately will never have the opportunity to due to his passing, old bedroom. You’ve made his room yours for the time being, even encouraged by Miguel to decorate it as you wish to make it feel like home because as he said, “my home is your home.”
And so, currently living with Miguel meant that you needed to find a way to hide your little Valentine’s surprise. You thought about baking treats for your group of friends, including Miguel, last week, but you knew that you’d need to come up with a way to have Miguel out of his own penthouse in order to truly surprise him as well. You quickly came up with a plan and even got a little help from a certain AI assistant, who was all too happy keeping Miguel busy here at HQ last night while you baked. You thought about your plan well, so much that you even baked a cake and cookies as an excuse, so that whenever Miguel got home, he wouldn’t wonder why it smelled like baked treats when there were none in sight, since you planned on hiding the Valentine’s treats in your room, packaged and ready to go for today. And, it has been a success. You’ve surprised all your friends with a little something, as a gesture of how much you care about them. The only one left now is Miguel. You briefly wonder why you didn’t just give them to him at the penthouse this morning when the two of you were having breakfast. For some reason it felt right to leave his delivery for last.
You walk through Miguel’s lab, heading straight to his platform, deciding that you’ll wait for him there until he comes back. You take a seat on it and gaze around. Even from here you can hear the sound of rain, which sounds very peaceful. The silence and the pockets of darkness brings you comfort. You can’t help but find it amusing that over time, you’ve spent more and more time in Miguel’s lab. You recall the days when you hardly came in here. Those were days when Jess and Miguel called you in, usually whenever Jess was delivering a report to Miguel about a mission you and others had been on with her, asking you to go since you were her pupil. Now, you’re here every day, and not just once but multiple times throughout. You can easily spend two or three hours here while Miguel and you work on your own thing.
You smile to yourself. Life can really change.
The rain continues to go strong outside. You let it distract your thoughts for a few seconds, which reminds you yet again of a memory. Of a Valentine’s Day with your Peter.
It was the second before last Valentine’s Day you spent with him. It was also a rainy day in your universe. As always, you baked something for Peter since he loved your baking and cooking. You knew you could never go wrong with baked treats since they were his weakness. He, on the other hand, had a few plans up his sleeve. He always did.
You smile at the memory. He had planned a whole evening that included a restaurant reservation, but the day was cold and a rainy one, being February. It started raining at some point in the night and the rain didn’t stop throughout the day. There was so much rain that the restaurant had to cancel dinners due to flooding two hours before your scheduled reservation. It didn’t matter to Peter though. He asked you to get ready regardless, to take your time.
An hour and a half later, there was a knock on your bedroom door from Peter. As if he didn’t live there, or as if you didn’t share that bedroom, but you opened the door regardless with a smile.
And there was Peter, dashing as always. His eyes lit up at the sight of you, as if he hadn’t seen you a million times before, as if he was falling in love with you for the first time all over again.
“So, we had a little change of plans,” he said with a sweet smile. “But rain or no rain, we’re having a romantic dinner.”
“Don’t we always have a romantic dinner?” you asked softly.
“An extra romantic dinner, darling,” he replied, taking your hand and kissing the back of it with one of his hands.
You smile softly now as you remember that evening.
He held your hand and instead of leading you to the dining area, he led you to the small living room section of your apartment. The overhead lights were off. The only light in the area came from lamps and lit candles spread around the space. The scent of food filled the air, a sign that Peter had cooked. Soft music played in the background from Peter’s record player and of course, his choice was a vinyl of romantic songs. You had a feeling that the night would end with a dance in the living room. Your suspicions only grew as you both stepped onto a picnic blanket and found couch pillows placed around so that the two of you could sit comfortably. There was a vase in the middle with flowers and around it were things like linen napkins and utensils, two glasses for drinks, and everything else needed for a dinner.
Then, there was Peter, serving you a drink and dinner with flickering candles all around, soft music in the back as you talked. You remember telling him that his idea was lovely and sweet, that it would be unforgettable. The night did end with a dance, with your arms wrapped around his neck and his around your waist. You even remember the pit pat of rain against your apartment’s windows and how you could see the flash of lightning even through the curtains. You recall what it was like to dance with Peter. It wasn’t the first nor last time. There were times before and times after that night, all in your small apartment, the one that was supposed to be temporary after graduating from college. The two of you talked about moving to a bigger apartment, one that would be comfortable for a family, for children. Neither of you minded your apartment in the moment though.
You still don’t. Even if you’re alone now. Even if Peter has been gone for so many years.
“Happy Valentine’s,” Peter whispered that night as he held you close to his chest. His arms were warm and protectively wrapped around you, your back to his chest.
“Happy Valentine’s,” you say now.
“Happy… Valentine’s.”
You look up as you hear the voice, finding Miguel standing a few feet away from you at last. His gaze meets yours and you notice his head is tilted to the side slightly, watching you curiously. You blink, pulling yourself out of your memory and offer Miguel a small grin, one he returns instantly.
“You keep asking for permission to come into the lab. You don’t have to ask,” Miguel says as he steps closer, breaking the short silence.
“It’s out of respect. Besides, I see the way you get annoyed when members just walk in,” you reply, amused.
Miguel looks down at you with a soft frown, his lips in a small pout as if silently asking, ‘Really?’
“Yes, but -” Miguel pauses and sighs. It’s different. You’re different. You’re not just any member. You’re his friend. His close friend. His… Miguel clears his throat. “You… Are different. You know why.”
Yes, you know why. You’re friends. Close friends. He’s your… “Right, but I still like to ask. Just to make sure.”
Miguel’s frown deepens, he raises an eyebrow almost in annoyance, yet he can never be annoyed with you. Ever. “Right, just to make sure,” he repeats, raising his hands in surrender, giving up and realizing there’s no changing your mind about this. At least not now, Miguel thinks to himself.
“Anyway, I brought you something,” you say, standing up at last from his platform. His crimson eyes immediately fall upon your bag. He’s been too busy thinking about how you always ask for permission to walk into the lab that he failed to see the reusable bag near you. You close the distance between the two of you, stopping just a few feet.
Miguel wonders what exactly you’ve brought him but he doesn’t have to wonder for long when you pull out two small containers, pink and heart-shaped. You hand them to him with a warm smile.
“I baked a few treats for everyone. Happy Valentine’s Day!”
Looking at the small containers, Miguel accepts them. He can’t help but feel a little awestruck for a few seconds. When was the last time someone gave him anything on this day? He hasn’t celebrated in years. It was so long ago.
“I hope you like them. I baked a little special thing for you. It was my first time baking them but I think they turned out well,” you say, bringing Miguel back to the present. “Go on,” you tell him gently, excited to see his reaction to the second box’s contents specifically.
He nods and opens the first one. Heart-shaped brownies in the size of your palm greet his eyes. He can’t help but admire how you arranged them with cute baking parchment paper, going the extra mile to make him and your other friends feel special today. His lips curl into a soft smile and he feels a wave of heat rush to his cheeks. You baked brownies for everyone and you included him. A warmth spreads through his chest at the thought, the realization.
You stare at Miguel, his smile and blush not going unnoticed. The sight makes you smile.
“Thank you,” Miguel says as he keeps looking at them, the amazing smell reaching his nose. He already knows everything you baked will be amazing. It always is. His mouth waters just at the sight.
“Check the other box!”
Miguel grins at you and nods, closing the first book even though he wishes he could go ahead and eat one of the brownies, but your excitement over the other box deters him. He wants to see what has you so happy and anxious for him to see, so he opens the next box. His lips part and eyebrows raise in surprise for a few seconds when he sees the contents before he happily smiles at you.
“You made conchas! Heart-shaped conchas! You… I’ve never seen conchas shaped like this before, not even at the panaderia. When did you even bake them?” Miguel asks, staring at you with amazement before he lifts the box to his face, inhaling the sweet scent of fresh conchas. His mouth waters even more, thinking about how good these will go with a mug of café de olla.
You chuckle softly, pleased with Miguel’s reaction. “Last night. Before you arrived from HQ. The cake and cookies were just a distraction so you wouldn’t see them and the brownies. I wanted to surprise everyone, including you. So, I recruited someone’s help,” you say with a soft shrug of your shoulders, prompting Lyla to appear.
“That would be me,” Lyla says with a soft grin, arms crossed over her chest. “I had to keep you busy, Miguel.”
Miguel scoffs playfully as he realizes and remembers the previous night. “That’s why you kept messing up the anomaly datasheet.”
“And why I kept moving your tabs around,” she replies, which makes Miguel frown for a few seconds.
“That, too. Not appreciated,” he mumbles.
“I had to do what I had to do, to ensure Y/N’s mission was a success, which it was,” Lyla says smiling.
Miguel shakes his head at her but he’s not even slightly upset. Instead, he’s highly amused that you recruited Lyla’s help to keep him occupied at HQ, all to surprise him with these lovely and delicious baked treats. His cheeks feel even more hot now.
“They smell amazing. I’m not even going to lie, my mouth is watering,” Miguel admits quietly as he nods to the conchas. “Thank you.”
“Always,” you reply softly. “I bet… They’d be really good with café de olla.”
Miguel grins. “Is this your subtle way of saying you’d like café de olla?”
You shrug. “I’m just saying, heart-shaped conchas and café de olla sound like a good combination to me. I think, it would be quite an experience. I mean, you’re saying you’ve never seen heart-shaped conchas before so… I was just thinking, you know?”
“Oh, yeah, right.” Miguel gives you a soft smirk before he grabs one of the conchas. You can’t help but notice how small it looks in his hand as he holds it up, as if showing it to you. “You were just thinking,” he says, still smirking, raising his eyebrow as he looks at you.
“It’s just a thought,” you reply, smiling softly. “Something to think about.”
“Definitely something to think about… which means you have more at home, yes?”
“There might be more conchas at the penthouse, yes.”
“I see,” he replies. “I guess cafeteria coffee will do for now.”
You tilt your head to the side in curiosity. “For now?”
“There might be café de olla in the evening.”
“I see,” you reply with a smile.
“I hear it might be quite an experience.”
“I have to agree with whoever said that,” you say.
“You know, I do, too,” Miguel responds, still smirking softly at you.
Lyla hovers between the two of you, glancing from you to Miguel. “Great, so there’s gonna be conchas and café de olla,” she says.
You both turn to look at her. Right, Lyla is there.
“I’ll go get some coffee,” Miguel says as he places the concha back in the box, making sure to close it correctly.
“Alright. I’m going to go ahead and start on the report. There’s still so much to do,” you reply heading to the desk you always work on, the one that Miguel set up for you many months ago once you started helping him with the weekly reports.
“Sounds good. I’ll be back,” Miguel responds, placing his baked treats on his platform.
“Don’t worry Miguel, I’ll look after them,” Lyla jokes seeing how careful he has been with the boxes, as if they are precious to him. The teasing tone makes Miguel frown but he doesn’t respond as he heads out of the lab to grab coffee for the two of you.
_♡_
You sit in Miguel’s living room many hours later. The time on your tablet reads 7:16pm. Lamps lit up his space and the fireplace is on, warming the entire penthouse. Soft music coming from Miguel’s record player, the one you gifted him for Christmas several weeks ago, plays in the background.
You sit on one of the couches, a blanket over your legs as you work on the report from your tablet, the same one that Miguel gifted you for Christmas. You sit alone now since Miguel excused himself about twenty-five minutes ago, saying he needed to get something done. You didn’t ask what he had to do, not wanting to intrude on his privacy. You told him that you’d be in the living room. You only realized he was in the kitchen because you heard the opening and closing of drawers, but other than that, you have no idea what Miguel has been up to. Besides, you’ve been caught up working on the report, trying to finish it so it’s ready for scheduled meetings later this week.
You move your pen around your tablet’s screen, fixing something with a frown. Your concentration comes to a halt as a shadow covers the lighting. You look up, only to find Miguel carrying a tray that he sets on the console table that’s placed between the two long couches. It doesn’t take long before the lovely scent reaches you. Café de olla.
You glance at Miguel as soon as you recognize the scent, his crimson eyes meet yours and there’s a soft smile on his face.
“How about a break from the report?” he asks, taking a seat on the floor, clad in his lounge clothes.
You smile softly and nod, quickly placing the tablet away and joining him on the floor. It’s then that you see everything that’s on the tray.
He sets out the mugs with the hot and rich liquid, careful not to burn himself or you. He places three dessert plates out. One with brownies, another with conchas, and finally one with bimbuñuelos, a sugary pastry similar to the buñuelos you’ve had before, his personal addition to the sweets. You realize he bought them earlier when he arrived with a pastry box an hour later after you. You smile softly as you look at the sweets, finding it cute that everything is heart-shaped.
“So, there was café de olla,” you say, looking at him, still smiling.
“And there were more conchas,” Miguel replies as he hands you a clean plate to eat, smiling.
You chuckle softly before the two of you dig in, savoring the freshly made coffee and baked sweets in his dimly lit living room. Outside, Nueva York continues to have rain. Flashes of white lit up the sky every now and then due to lightning.
The two of you engage in conversation as you eat, enjoying each other’s company. And while you reply to something he said, a brief thought crosses his mind. This has turned out to be “quite an experience” as you said, but it isn’t because of café de olla or even the delicious heart-shaped conchas you baked that make him want to sigh in delight with each bite he takes. No, this evening has been “quite an experience” because of you alone. His close friend. His best…
Miguel grins at you as he focuses on your response, always wishing to give you his full attention, before he replies, continuing the conversation.
You take a drink from your mug, noticing a gentle but sudden flush on Miguel’s cheeks. Your gaze flickers to the fireplace for a second, unbeknownst to you that a certain realization of Miguel’s is the true culprit for the rosiness that now cover his cheeks.
♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡ Translation for Spanish words: Conchas - Mexican pan dulce, pastry; word translates to "seashell" because the pastry is kind of shaped like one Panaderia - bakery Café de olla - coffee made in a pot Bimbuñuelos - fried dough sprinkled with sugar; similar to buñuelos Buñuelos - fried dough fritter: typically a Christmas dessert _____ A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! Miguel got me giggling and kicking my feet here! Why is he not real? Anyway, I had this little idea earlier in January and then @heyohalie asked me a while back how reader and Miguel from "Nonviolent Communication" would celebrate Valentine's (if they even did celebrate, since they're currently just friends), and I decided I needed to write it! So, here it is :) Thank you for reading this far and I hope you enjoyed it!!
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skxllz · 5 months
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“ 𝐢 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬. ”
carl gallagher x fem! reader
warnings; mention of death & reference to death. sad, grieving reader. mentions of pregnancy. takes place after season 11. real tear-jerker plot, angst.
side note; I'm traumatizing myself by writing this so I apologize in advance to everyone else lmao.
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the photo between your fingertips felt crisp... a warmth that was once brought by it now gone. your touch was cold, but the sleek lining of the polaroid was colder. no longer a brightening memory, just a numb remembrance of what shouldve lasted.
tears drizzled down your cheeks like rain on a window pane, dripping over the shininess of the photo that reflected light off of it from the moon above. as you stared at it - smiles and laughter and joy in a moment that felt like just yesterday - you couldn't stop the continuous ache in your chest from increasing. throbbing, and growing, like a large damn tumor. It was painful.
a hiccup escaped your mouth from the oncoming sob that bubbled from your throat. you slapped a hand to your mouth, silencing yourself, squeezing your eyes shut while the tears kept flowing.
it wasn't until you sniffled did you gain the idea.
shaky digits sat the photo down, beside you, onto the sleek wooden planks of the porch. the droplets of rain that stuck to the porch bled through the polaroid, but you were too distracted to notice; grabbing for your phone out of the pocket of your coat.
you switched the screen on and the white glow blinded you through blurry vision, yet you didn't mind. fingers moved quickly in typing in the code to your phone, before you accessed your contacts.
you scrolled, and scrolled, up until you came across his name.
thumb hovering over the highlighted contact hesitantly, before pressing down onto the screen. the screen flashed, before the dial screen loaded; making you lift the phone to your ear.
your sniffles were silent while you painlessly waited through the rings of the other line.
one ring. your breathing came out shaky. heartbeat picking up, startling you.
two rings. your hands were shaking more. you nearly dropped your phone, but managed to squeeze it tighter into your palm.
three rings. you had to bite your bottom lip to keep from crying more.
finally, you were met with nothing but a voice box.
“ hey! It's carl. ” a wobbly grin etched onto your lips at the sound of his voice. “ I probably can't come to the phone right now — stop it, debbie! — but I'll get back to you as soon as i can, alright? just leave a number and name! ”
the phone beeped, signaling for a message to record...
“ hey, carl. ” your voice was scratchy as you spoke form all the sobbing you had done previously. It made you laugh, the irony, “ it's... It's me. It's y/n. ”
you paused, swallowing down your saliva. it was so hard to speak, to think. you had no clue what to say — yet you had so much to say.
“ I don't even know where to start, ” your voice cracked, head angling down as you looked to your feet. you were wearing the vans carl had bought you... “ I just- I just really miss you, ya’ know? ”
you let out a sniffling, pain filled laugh. it was hard not to. the way you were only making the pain worse? you were such a fool.
“ I can't... ” an intake of a large full of air, “ it's just hard to accept that you're gone, ya’ know? I.. when we saw it on the news last week... ”
you had to press a hand to your mouth for a moment. breathing becoming ragged, continuously coming out in short yet fast puffs. you felt as if your lungs would burst.
then, you continued, “ I just couldn't believe it. neither could debbie, or lip, or liam, or Ian.... ” swallowing thickly, you let out a noise of distress. “ or fiona. fiona came back, carl. she was going to surprise you, but you were working- and then the shooting happened- ”
by now, your lips were curling in; cheeks indenting from the rough burrow the motion created between your teeth and the corners of your mouth.
“ why the fuck did you have to leave? ” you sobbed, pressing your hand to your forehead; fingertips bending inward and nails digging into your upper palm. “ why? why?! you- you couldn't have just taken off that day?! ”
the raising of your voice caught the attention of the neighbors, but of course you didn't mind - didn't care. the hallow, yet cramping pit in your stomach is the only thing you were focused on.
your shoulders shook. arms trembled. legs shuffled, until your feet were pressing together. it was hard to calm down, especially with the loathing anger you felt, but... you managed to after a moment.
just sitting there, breathing in and out. In and out. and then sniffing loudly, to clear your nose of the clog.
“ .. I got the blue roses. ” you whispered, voice raw and raspy. your hand was combing though hair, giving your scalp a thick scratch to relieve stress. “ the ones you ordered me the day before... I love them. they're.. they're dying now, but I'm gonna’ press ‘em in a photo album. ”
you licked your chapped lips.
more tears threatened to fall, but you quickly wiped them away.
“ ... and, there's something I didn't get to tell you. ” a shaky exhale was taken, with a small tremble of your hand - it moved, gliding across your jacketed arm before squeezing. trying to comfort yourself.
“ I'm pregnant, ” you croaked, “ have been for a few weeks now. I... I haven't told the family, either. I wanted to tell you first. ”
pausing.
“ of course, it's too late for that... ”
that's when the phone beeped twice, signifying the recording went on for too long. you squeezed your eyes shut then, biting your bottom lip. frustration, sadness, pity - you felt it all and then some in between.
the urge to throw your phone flooded your veins, but you didn't. not with a comforting hand meeting your shoulder.
you looked up, only to see a familiar brunette.
turning your head, you silently averted your gaze away from the female; her presence welcome, always is, but you didint have the strength to greet her. you were just too... tired.
“ ... It'll be okay. ” fiona said after a moment. she too was looking straight ahead as she sat - not at anything particular, just simply basking in the night air and after-chills of the rain that had passed. her eyes seemed dead, not lively and excited like they were when she first arrived...
I mean, how could she be happy? her brother passed away... before she could even see him again.
“ how? ” you sniffed, letting out a chuckle that held so many emotions - but the number one thing that stood out, was disbelief. “ how could it be okay, fi? my boyfriend's dead. ”
“ and so is my brother. ” she dryly replied. It came out a bit harsh, but that was the reality of it. you weren't the only one to lose someone.
and she knew that, which is why her arm wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you close. she felt like crying, but stayed strong - she always had to. “ it'll be okay, because we all have each other. we'll get through this together. ”
her words were met with silence. “ ya’ know, ” as tears gathered over her waterline, fiona chuckled drastically, “ I remember the first time carl told us about you. said he swore he was gonna’ marry you one day. ”
“ he did? ” you mumbled, eyes downcasted towards your touching knees. she nodded in response, with a hum.
“ yes. ” she bit the inside of her cheek, “ I couldn't believed my ears... we all thought he was nuts. ”
you hummed a laugh, the tears sticking to your cheeks and lashes slowly drying up. “ he was... very nuts. I never did get a ring, so I guess he was just yappin’ like always, huh? ”
a reply was never given. several seconds passed by, before you pushed yourself off of fiona and looked at her expectedly.
she was already looking at you, a look of fondness and soft, sisterly love in her doe eyes.
“ what? ” you questioned quietly. your eyes were darting between her own, and then over her face, and then down-
a small, black, velvet box was in her palm.
you sucked in a sharp intake of air, eyes widening with disbelief at the object in fiona's hand. your lungs... they felt like they were burning. like you were drowning.
your heart beat... It picked up vastly.
and your brain - you couldn't think, it was blanking at this point.
carl... he was going to propose to you?
175 notes · View notes
blixssily · 9 months
Note
Hey!! Congrats on 100+ followers 🎺🎉
Not sure if your requests are open, so feel free to ignore this if they’re not! <3
Can I request some JJK headcanons. Specifically Geto with a younger sibling? (They’re also a jujutsu sorcerer).
And can this be one where he doesn’t turn into the cult leader?
This new season of jjk has been ROUGH and I just need some fluff content😭
Thanks! Have a great day/night!
💜
"stop growing up so fast."
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| you're their younger sibling!! how do they treat you?
| gojo satoru, geto suguru included
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˓ ꒱ notes and disclaimers: characters might be ooc (especially nanami), reader is their younger sibling and is gender neutral. apologies for any spelling mistakes!!
˓ ꒱ authors notes: thank you so much for this request!! honestly i haven't been writing jjk that much so i apologise if these are ooc :( my requests are always open as of now so please feel free to send some in!!
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| gojo satoru *◞
i feel like he'd make a really fun big brother, the type you can joke about anything with. you two would always end up a little late to class, you always blame it on his antics but he insists that you were the main cause of why the two of you were late.
he'd be the type to steal your snacks and a) insult you for your tastes in snacks/sweets or b) he would steal more when you weren't looking.
"did you. just take. another one of my snacks behind my back."
"no i didn't." whilst he's literally chewing on the said snack he stole.
i can kinda see him being a little protective of you too, not in an overbearing way but more of a "i'll look out for you" kinda way. like in a scenario where you two get sent on a mission together, he's more likely to be more observant when it comes to you. he'd still tease you if you got scared by something but when he senses that you're stressed or anxious he'd give you a light pat on your shoulder.
"there's no need to be scared." you look up at him as he lightly patted your shoulder. "your big brother is the strongest after all." he'd say in his usual light hearted (cocky) tone, and suddenly all admiration you might've had for him has been throw away as you kick the back of his knee a little. you laugh in his face as his stumbles a little.
i feel like whenever the both of you go out for lunch or dinner together he always insists on paying, in the most asshole way ever.
"i could never let my baby sister pay for my meal!" as he jokingly pushed the bill closer to your side of the table. yet before you can grab it he snatches it out of your reach. "it's ok, you're probably too poor to even pay for me." even though he knows you're just as rich as him.
yet if he ever got the sense that he went too far in his antics he'd apologise, maybe not in the most forward way but you'd know he means it. he'll buy you either something that you've been wanting for awhile or just some of your favourite snacks.
id like to imagine that whenever you go on solo missions, he'd secretly be really worried for you. he knows you can fight amazingly (having learned from the best) but he just can't help that uneasy feeling. suguru and shoko can sense when he's anxious, his leg is bouncing up and down as he's waiting for you at the entrance of jujutsu high. when he sees you he acts like he hasn't been worrying over you at all.
"fiiiiinaly you're back, i was stuck here waiting for you." he pretends to act annoyed at having to wait there for his younger sibling and you just roll your eyes and flip him off.
whenever you're sad or in need of comfort he honestly wouldn't know what to do. sometimes he walks past your room and he can hear the faint sound of sniffles. he stops in his place, contemplating if he should go inside your room or act like he never heard you at all. ultimately he usually sends you a text saying that he's proud of you, that you deserve a break and that you two should go out sometime to relax.
[tooth brush 8:47 a.m -> you] "hey, you've been going on a lot of missions lately. wanna go out to relax a little? my treat."
[tooth brush 8:48 a.m -> you] "i'm proud of you yk?"
you leave him on read but he knows you appreciated it, he goes up to you after school asking where you'd like to go out for dinner.
he'd introduce you to his friends, namely suguru and shoko. you guys actually spend some nights together playing games or watching movies. you guys aren't in the same year (reader is one year younger than gojo) but when you pass by the trio in the hall you sometimes like to mess with your brother by only greeting suguru and shoko.
"morning getou, morning shoko." you bow slightly to them, blatantly ignoring your older brother.
"hey! what about me??" he stops as he turns his head back to you. "oh sorry, didn't you see there." you say as you snick your tongue out at him, sprinting forward as he starts chasing you down the halls. shoko immediately pulls out her phone as suguru just leans against the wall and laughs at the two of you.
| geto suguru *◞
amazing older brother, very chill with you. honestly he lets you do whatever you want as long as it's not harming you in any way. you guys don't often go out together but i feel like he's the type to just send you funny pictures or videos.
he's the kind of older brother who would, after an afternoon of going out with satoru at the arcade, would come back with a plush of a character you liked or something you've said that you've wanted for awhile.
"hey i got you something" and it's this ginormous plushie he's somehow managed to fit through the door.
"you don't have to always bring me back something whenever you go out with gojo. i barely have any space left on my bed." you laugh, taking the huge plushie from your big brother. "just put some on the floor then."
"has going out with gojo so much caused you to go dumb??" you stare at him. "i'm gonna tell that to him." he sighs as he pulls out his phone.
when you two go on a mission together, it's usually pretty casual between the two of you. you both have the same calmness about you when on missions, only engaging in light conversations and mild teasing. you bullying suguru and he bullies you back but you end up complaining that he's so mean to his baby sister, that as the big brother he should be nice to you. you laugh as he rolls his eyes.
if he notices that during the mission you seem a little uneasy he'd ask if there was anything wrong or if you had noticed something.
"what's wrong? is something wrong?" he asks, slowing down his pace as you walk next to him. "nothing. it's stupid." you sigh, trying to put on your best nonchalant face but you know it won't fool your brother for long.
"try me, i spend almost everyday with satoru." you both laugh at this. "i'm just feeling a little nervous that's all." you huff out after a few more moments of silence.
"hmm, i can't help much with that to be completely honest but i know you'll be fine in this mission. you're strong, if you need any help, i'll be right behind you." he assures you, going deeper into the dark building you two were assigned to.
i feel like he'd also be a little protective of you like satoru. if you have any guy friends come over to your room or you go out with a guy he'd interrogate you on what happened. and if he ever found out that someone hurt you or you got hurt during a mission, you wouldn't even dare tease him about this protective side of him.
"who did this to you?" he'd ask with an eerie calmness in his voice as he's dressing your wounds. "it's fine really, i exorcised the curse already. i just got a little clumsy is all." you laugh it off, wincing as he dabs on some ointment on your arm.
"tsk, be more careful next time." he'd sigh, more relieved than annoyed actually. he's proud you defeated such a powerful curse but he still worries about your safety.
if he senses that you've been losing motivation to go to school or not talking to your friends much he'd come into your room unannounced to make sure that everything was ok. he's been through what you're going through right now and he doesn't want you to go through such a dark place.
"hey, i noticed you look kinda out of it recently. what's going on?" he asks, sitting next to you on the floor while you're sitting on your bed, his back is turned to you.
when you don't respond he speaks up again. "it's fine if you don't wanna answer me or even talk right now. i want you to know that no matter how busy i am or how much time i spend with satoru or shoko that i'm always here for you. you're my favourite sister after all." he adds in the last part to try to get a laugh out of you.
"i'm your only sister." you slightly smack his shoulder as giggle. he's glad he's able to make you laugh in times like these.
you always ask him where he buys his shampoos or hair masks and he just smiles at you, pretending like he never heard you at all. you've ask him the same question for years now and he's never given you the answer.
[you 2:54 p.m-> big brother ru] "if you don't tell me where you get your shampoo from i'm gonna cut your hair in your sleep."
[suguru 3:03 p.m -> copycat] "kys."
i imagine that whenever you were younger you'd always look up to suguru as your inspiration. kinda following what he would do when you both were just kids. hence the contact name now
you're actually good friends with shoko! you meet up with her sometimes for lunch after school. you like bullying gojo with your brother but when you're alone with him you get quiet cause you're only able to insult him casually when your older brother is around.
"why are you so quiet when suguru isn't around??" gojo asks, suguru left to get you guys some drinks from the vending machine (he lost a scissors paper stone match..) "dunno, you scare me." you shrug causing shoko to laugh.
"yea stop scaring our poor junior." the arm that shoko has around your shoulder tightens. "satoru tends to scare people like that." suguru sits back down in the space between you and satoru. "stop scaring my sister will you?" "i wasn't even doing anything!" while you and shoko just laugh at them.
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notes and reblogs are heavily appreciated !!
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strongheartneteyam · 7 months
Text
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[ credits of the Neteyam pic go to @cinetrix ]
Champagne Problems 
Part 4
Pairing: Neteyam Sully x female!human!reader
CW: sexual language, angst, past relationship trauma, touching in a sexual way, commitment issues, mentions of sex, trust issues, neteyam is head over heels for reader, fluff, a bit more about when neteyam and reader would see each other around before the beach party, mentions of drinking too much, reader is allergic to romantic feelings (but it's actually just her trauma talking), confessions of feelings, yearning, sexual tension, some funny vibes, heartbroken neteyam. Not sure if there's more. If there is, pls, tell me <3
Hi, hunny bunnies 💕 I'm really tired and sleepy rn (as I always am, right? lol) but I got inspo and finally got a break from my writer's block so I just rushed to wash the dishes as fast as I could and as soon as I finished it I ran to finish writing this chapter (a part of it had been sitting on my Google Docs for a while lol) and now I'm posting for you guys 🥰 Hope y'all like it and I'm so sorry for any mistakes or some parts that might not make total sense (if there are any lol who knows). I'm so sleepy that idk if I'll be able to proofread it completely now. But I will soon! Leaving comments down below will make this writer as happy as a kitten drinking milk teehee 😸 I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH kiss kiss ‼️💌
Slightly proofread.
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Part 3: I broke his heart 'cause he was nice
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My boy was a montage
A slow-motion, love potion
Jumping off things in the ocean
I broke his heart 'cause he was nice
He was sunshine, I was midnight rain
He wanted it comfortable
I wanted that pain
Midnight Rain (Taylor Swift)
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You woke up with a ray of sun shining way too bright directly at your eyes. You realized with a startle that you were in Neteyam’s arms and as you slowly became aware of your surroundings and your memory became clear… oh, shit… You had sex with him last night. No, no! Why did you drink those three glasses of champagne last night? Everytime you drank too much you ended up doing something stupid. Of course last night would not be an exception.
You could feel his slender, soft but toned legs intertwining with your much smaller ones. You felt his warmth, his strong arms holding your tiny in comparison figure, helping you stay warm even if the ocean breeze was chilly so early in the morning in Awa'atlu.
Neteyam's heart was big, very big when compared to the one of a human male, so, as he peacefully slept while embracing you, you could hear his heartbeat extremely clearly. It was soothing, though. A little louder than the human guys you had been intimate with previously and had slept by their side but it was calming. His embrace felt comfortable, like a place you could… call home…?
You felt a stab in your heart. Anxiety. Nervousness. Almost like a fight or flight feeling. No, you could not be getting attached.
His scent was good, cozy and you could easily get used to having it all over you, to wake up to that, to smell it on your clothes so very often.
And that thought scared you. Saying you had commitment issues was an understatement.
You felt Neteyam moving behind you. He was slowly waking up.
"Morning, oeyä sevin syulang" (my beautiful flower) His voice was hoarse as he had just woken up and he had a heavy na'vi accent when pronouncing the "R" in "morning". His accent lured you in way more than you liked to admit. 
You hated how much Neteyam could make you feel vulnerable. You did not like the feeling of vulnerability.
Everytime you let a guy get on your vulnerable side before, you ended up sobbing while sitting on the floor, listening to a stupid, sad break up song and, sometimes, stuffing your stomach with chocolate, ice cream or pizza. And that was when you were able to eat. Sometimes the lump in your throat was so big you couldn't even swallow without being reminded of the pungent ache in your heart.
"Morning." You said nervously. It sounded dry. You did not mean to sound rude or distant but you ended up sounding exactly like that.
“Did you sleep well, tawtute?” Neteyam asked, his eyes still half lidded and he was smiling tenderly at you
Damn, you had to admit he was freaking cute when all sleepy like this. Just like a house cat waking up from a good deep sleep…
Ok, stop it!
“Uh… yes. Yes, I did sleep well. Thank you.” God, how awkward was that?
It seemed like Neteyam was too mesmerized by you to even notice your awkwardness.
“You’re beautiful. My sevin tawtute.” he said
“Wait, what?! Yours?!” you protested, a frown on your face
“Yeah.” Neteyam smiled, a bit sheepishly “Did I make you uncomfortable? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” his expression looked like he was being sincere
“It’s okay.” it was all you said
“I wanna tell you something.” Neteyam said, smiling softly though he was afraid of your reaction once he said what he wanted to say
“What in hell could he want to tell me? Oh, God…” you thought
“I…” he hesitated for a while. Was he getting shy? “I’m in love with you, (y/n).”
“You’re what?!” You sat up on the hammock in a swift motion
“See?! I should have never come here to meet him in the first place. That’s what you get for following your instincts and not your rational brain.” those words ran through your anxious mind
“Hey.” Neteyam said as he sat up too, trying to calm you down as you truly seemed alarmed. He smiled but you could tell there was tension all over him too. “Hear me out, please.” He pleaded. His tone was as calm as he could manage to keep it. “I just didn’t want to tell you because I could tell you’re afraid of falling in love. I’ve heard you talking to your girl friends about boys, about your lame ex boyfriends and how they made you want nothing to do with relationships anymore.”
“Were you spying on me?” You said, incredulous
“No, tawtute!” Neteyam chuckled at your accusation “It’s not like we’ve never been close to each other before the party. I know you’ve seen me before when you came to my tribe to conduct your scientific researches. I always made an effort to be around you, I just never approached you but I never tried to hide the fact that I had a crush on you. I was always staring at you. And I know you noticed!” He chuckled “One time you caught me staring from afar and met my gaze but you soon looked away and after that I started feeling like you were avoiding looking in my eyes again. Was I right?” he questioned, with his brows furrowed but he still didn’t seem to feel defeated. Even after you had reacted like you were afraid of his words, Neteyam still had his lips curled up in a slight smile.
You looked at him with eyes that let him know you were trying to conceal your embarrassment. You did know Neteyam had noticed you had been trying to avoid him at all costs as soon as you noticed he seemed to be attracted to you but having him throw that fact in your face felt surprisingly uncomfortable and your cheeks did get a little pinkish.
“Maybe I was.”
“Of course you were. Everybody noticed. Lo’ak even made fun of me for that.” he shook his head from side to side while chuckling at the thought of his younger brother teasing him
"I'm sorry." You couldn't help but laugh a little bit
"Don't apologize. It's fine. I like a challenge." He smirked at you in a flirtatious way
"Neteyam, I think we should-"
"Just let me tell you everything I need to, please!" He interrupted, almost begging you
You sighed "Okay…" You sounded tired and a little annoyed
"After I got a good chance to talk to you last night, at the party, I fell for you. Hard. It's not just a crush anymore." His pretty face looked happy while he confessed his feelings for you, even if there was a little bit of angst inside his chest "I didn't bring you here to my hammock just to fuck you. I brought you here to make love to you. It wasn't just sex for me. I wanna ask you to be my mate. I hope you don't run away scared now… 'Cause that would kill me, my sevin tawtute. You're so perfect... I wanted you last night and I know I will want you forever. Please, please, let me be your mate. Or your husband, as you humans say. I know it's unexpected and it seems too soon, but this is our way. My people don't necessarily have to know someone for a long time before choosing them to be their mate." He explained to you "I don't want to ever be away from you. I couldn't. Not now that I have talked to you, laughed with you, laid next to you…" He brushed his warm hand through the outer part of your thigh, moving it upwards "Felt your pussy around my cock, so soft and inviting, so warm and wet inside, all for me..." Neteyam's breath was a bit labored, his hand still touching your skin, while he whispered those dirty words to you, remembering what you two had done while it was still eclipse "Please, be mine." 
"It'd be great." You said. Neteyam smiled widely, not being able to grasp the real meaning of your words "But it could never work. Not between you and me. Not between a na'vi and a human. I'm so sorry. I have to go. My friends must be worried about me. I didn't tell Adeline where I was going before I left last night. She must be worried sick. See you around. I guess..." You said, as you got out of Neteyam's big hammock, as fast as you could, feeling the warm beach sand covering your toes as soon as your feet hit the ground, leaving Neteyam confused, still trying to wake up from his wishes and touch reality.
He knew you were afraid of committing to a lifelong relationship but he thought that maybe you would say "yes" to what he was proposing to you. Or that you would at least ask for some time to think. Neteyam did not think you would reject him so fast and bluntly like that. Especially since he was used to having girls crushing on him and throwing themselves at him all the time. Not only na'vi girls, there were many human girls who tried to seduce him as well but even though he did feel attracted to some of them, he felt that there was always something missing. Neteyam did value personality a lot, even if he was just going to mess around with the girl, and none of the other human girls had a personality that he truly liked. But you did. And of course you would be the one to reject him. His ego was screaming like a spoiled little brat at that moment as he laid back at his hammock, throwing his body with full force against its surface and exhaling strongly in frustration.
There was a lump in his throat and his heart was hurting like never before. No girl had ever made Neteyam feel that way. All he wanted was for you to accept him, to want to be with him.
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Taglist:
@iman-lu
@leaveitbythewave
@creepytoes88
@live-laugh-neteyam
@swaggygurlbae
@neteluvr
@layla2-49
@a-blog-name-2003 (you left a cute comment on the last chapter so I figured you'd like to be tagged ♡ lemme know if I'm right in the comments pls lol)
@lala-1516 (you also left a nice comment on the last chapter so I'm tagging you baby <3 lemme know if u want me to keep tagging u)
@jakesullyfatjuicypeen
@yeosxxx
@iaratezaewa
259 notes · View notes
aly-writes · 8 months
Note
Hi Aly! I love your writing so much! Can I request Arisu, Karube, and Chishiya headcannons with a smart significant other? Only if you feel writing it of course :) Thank you if you do - I look forward to seeing what you write next!!
y'all i finished revenge of others and i am OBSESSED with seok jaebum... anyways! i added kyuma and banda as characters i'll write for, so in the future feel free to request for them<3
there are a lot of different types of smarts in life (book smarts, street smarts, emotional intelligence, etc.) so i just had s/o written out as a combination of all of them. here you go nonnie!
warnings: none :)
arisu, chishiya, and karube with a smart s/o
arisu ryohei
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arisu is so boyfriend material haha, he's always sooo impressed with you.
he knew you had a decent amount of intelligence based off of the test scores you showed him from university, but the first time you were fully able to show it off was during a game
it was a diamonds game, which wasn't exactly his strong suit (literally)
arisu is actually pretty smart himself, but he couldn't keep up with you during the game. your mind was working so fast and figuring things out at lightning speed
the group managed to finish the game with barely any casualties thanks to your quick mind and brilliant strategies. naturally, arisu had to bring it up in conversation
this boy showers you in compliments! he's so so sweet
he's your biggest fan, always bragging about you and rambling on about how amazing it was that you were able to do something so quick
you're the first person he'll come to if he needs anything at all.
he truly does trust your intuition more than his own. if you have a bad feeling about something, he makes sure to look at it through your viewpoint to try and understand what he's missing
more often than not, your warnings come in handy and he dodges a bullet. when he doesn't listen, he tends to notice things usually go bad
arisu also has smarts, so when the two of you start talking about whatever, those specific talks can go on for hours and hours
you both bring up new perspectives and different opinions and it's just so great
he's really really thoughtful and it makes the two of you super compatible :)
before he dropped out of university, you two were definitely study partners.
sometimes he would get a little too reliant on your knowledge and found himself basically dumping his entire homework load onto you
you never really noticed though, and you managed to help him solve the problems with such ease that it didn't really feel like homework at all
this benefitted both of you greatly though, because each time he solved a problem with your help he got a kiss as a reward
oh, plus cuddle breaks in between
and if he managed to solve three problems in a row without much of your help? you basically pampered him with kisses all over his face
his family absolutely loves you
kind of sad, but his dad and brother really like you because they believe you have the potential they think arisu lacks
you never treat them disrespectfully, but you definitely talk shit about them behind closed doors with arisu
cause how dare they talk about your precious bf like that?
you're kind of a mediator for him, karube, and chota though
hate to say it, but putting these three together inevitably causes stupid ideas to come up
you try to be the voice of reason. sometimes they listen to you, sometimes they don't
karube will playfully call you a 'buzzkill' because you shoot down their dangerous adventures, but it's all with good intent
when you're not around them, karube and chota will definitely hype you up to arisu though
"how did you even manage to pull someone so smart arisu?"
"his dad must be paying her, huh chota?"
on the other side though, sometimes the two of you clash.
arisu undeniably thinks with his heart most of the time. especially outside of games
you tend to stick with your brains and rely on them to get you through tough situations. this can lead to some tough arguments
you think of things logically and he comes at it emotionally, so sometimes it's hard to see eye-to-eye
you both love each other a lot though, so you always figure something out at the end of the day
you trust in your head so you tend to be stubborn and need time to yourself, but he will always rely on his feelings for you to get through these types of things
overall...
expect a lot of praise and reliance from him
he finds you super trustworthy and levelheaded, so your his go-to for anything at anytime
chishiya shuntaro
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oh boy, i don't even know where to start with him? let's just say... things can get intense
chishiya is highly intelligent. you are also highly intelligent. this is where you both struggle
you can pick his brain a little too good for his liking and sometimes it bothers him. he can't really get anything past you, and the same goes the other way around
he can tend to get manipulative when things go south, and you match his energy
things that work on anybody else don't work on you, and it kind of freaks him out lol
he likes to be in control of everything around him, which includes the feelings of other people. you don't give him the chance to do this
this leads to a lot of passive aggressiveness and tension
but the tension is honestly the best part of your relationship
there is so much teasing and banter between the two of you
you both play the high-stakes game of 'who can get a smart remark past the other one first' and it makes things really fun
affection can get really exciting between the two of you because of this. after a day full of teasing it's quite interesting to see who breaks first in terms of relationship things
honestly? most of the time it's you, but when you decide to get stubborn and hold out, chishiya gets a little touchy and you find it cute
when you both have a common goal you make a great team
it's very true that two heads are greater than one
when one person makes the plan, the other will go over it and quickly catch any mistakes or holes that are missing
anything that you both work on together is almost unsettlingly perfect
while your smarts can sometimes lead to incompatibility, there are certain things that the two of you understand about each other that no one else does
you both can have really great conversations with each other. you don't have to hold back any of your thoughts because you know chishiya will always understand them, and it's great
you and him look at things objectively all the time, so emotions don't tend to get in the way of things you place higher priority over
both of you need your alone time, so codependency is never an issue
finally, you understand chishiya like nobody else does. you know how his brain works and you know how he views things. the best part about it? you send him no judgement
chishiya doesn't think of you as a chore because he's aware that you're probably the smartest person in a room full of people. he doesn't have to take care of you which is bliss for him
you guys have a lot of inside jokes as well, things so deeply exclusive to only you two that nobody dares to understand
you're a very intimidating couple
it's kind of difficult to make couple friends due to this intimidation factor, so double dates are off the table
chishiya was never much of a people person anyway, so it doesn't bother him
you're perfectly content mentally stimulating each other. things never get boring around him
overall...
you're able to perform the crazy feat of being seen as an equal by the one and only chishiya!
he's clever, but so are you. as much as it can be an annoyance, he actually finds you very entertaining
there's definitely a lot of trust between you two simply because you're one in the same. you know the saying 'don't do anything i wouldn't do'? basically your relationship in a nutshell
karube daikichi
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karube is such a showoff LMAO
as a bartender, he comes across a lot of aggressive drunk dudes that aren't afraid to diss him and the things he holds dear to him. his family, his friends, and you as well
as childish as it is, his favorite thing to hit them with is "i bet my s/o is smarter than yours"
he just absolutely loves to use you as bragging rights and it's great
he's constantly learning from you and is extremely interested in anything you say
karube didn't graduate high school. he will absolutely eat up any fact you tell him and loves to learn things from you
he thinks the way that you talk is so captivating and will continuously ask you to repeat yourself just so he can hear you speak
he shares the facts you told him with arisu and chota and feels so smart
when they ask him where he learned that, he will proudly tell them that he got it from you
he doesn't feel inferior to you at all lol, he absolutely worships you
at first you were a bit hesitant to accept how much praise he would give you, but you eased up to it
similar to arisu, compliments compliments compliments
they're all over the place
he will brag about you to anything that breathes, especially when you're around
he actually finds that talking about you to other people is more fun than talking about himself. you're truly his gem and he finds you so special
he really likes to see you in your element and could watch you for hours
whether it's math, science, art, or whatever you're good at
when you start to really get into something, you focus on it entirely and he finds it super interesting to watch
he likes to watch the little habits you do. the only one he's pointed out to you is how you tap your thumb on the pads of your other fingers back and forth
he likes to hear you get logical
he sometimes tells you about the people that come into the bar and spill their life stories
when he does this, he will purposefully ask you to break down your thoughts so he can get an understanding of what your brain is thinking
"well obviously the reason his wife is asking him to clean up the dishes is because she's trying hard to get a promotion at work and comes home tired everyday! how can he not see that? she's not working hard for nothing..."
"really, babe? i didn't think of it that way"
he especially enjoys it when you start to criticize people and get a little snarky with them. he witnessed it once when someone was giving you attitude and he thought it was the hottest thing he had ever seen
you basically broke down their emotions for them and matched their tone, but did it in such a cool way lol his heart was pounding
overall...
karube thinks your smarts are such an amazing feature
he can't match them but he's totally okay with it, because now he has a smart s/o that is totally better than anybody else's
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sweetandabitspycho · 7 months
Text
Tej Parker x Reader
Warnings: bad writing, sad/comfort. First time doing a sad/comfort so be nice please.
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“Why?" Tej asked trying to stay calm, but he was getting more aggravate. I was trying not to start a fight. Really I was. He stood blocking me from leaving.
"Because I need to get away." I said keeping an even voice. He looked hurt. He should. He needs to feel what I have been feeling. "From me? Why?" His voice cracked. "You haven't been honest with me. You are hiding something from me and I don't trust you completely really now." I said in a whisper. It hurt to say, but it was true. He was spending hours with his ex, to the point he was coming home at 5am.
"I can explain everything baby." His voice killed me. It was sad and broken. As if I had hit him. I wanted to die. I shook my head no. Too scared I would stay and break down.
"It's not want it looks like. Please!" He was about to cry. "No. Not right now. I can't." I said as he moved out of the way for me to walk out.
"I'm so sorry honey." Mia said cuddling into my side. "It's okay. I'll be okay." There was a knock on the bedroom door. "Come in." Mia said before Brian popped in with ice cream in hand. He gently kisses my head. "If you want I can shoot him, or have him shoot. I still have cop friends." He said laughing lightly, I couldn't bring myself to laugh but I said a no but thank you with a small smile.
After a while Mia left. I finally felt like I could cry.
It felt as if someone riped out my heart. I though we would be together until death and even then we would still be together. I thought he was it. The one.
I hugged the stupid stuffed bear he gave me. No, it wasn't making me feel better, I can't sleep without him. I felt safe with him. I pull my knees to my chest trying to get some sleep.
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The next day.
I woke up to the sun peaky through the curtain. Rubbing my eyes I grabbed my phone to see the time. 12am, great lunch time. I saw I had five texted for Tej
Tej❤️ I'm sorry love it's not what it seems.
Tej❤️ I promise. I see how it can look like I'm cheating but I'm not.
Tej❤️ please just let me explain.
Tej❤️ I would never hurt you. I would die before please believe me.
Tej❤️ please just come meet me at our spot at 4. It will explain everything.
Our spot was a roof of an abandonment build. Maybe I should go. Should I go? What if it doesn't fix anything but brakes us more.
Before I could completely overthink going I got up off the bed and took a shower.
After I went down stairs to see Mia. She gave me a sad smile as she asked if I wanted coffee. I took it before telling her about Tej texting asking me to go at 4. She said I should and I agree with her. I should.
At 3pm I started to get dressed in a pair of shorts and a shirt that once belonged to Tej. At 3:20 I decided to head out after saying a quick goodbye. It only took 20 minutes to get there.
I started to climb up the four story building. It didn't take long to get to the top. That's when I saw it.
Tej stood at the table we had brought up for us, he was placing roses everywhere. He continued to place things on the table before I could tell him I was there he turned around.
He smiled at me, before walking towards me. "Please just let me explain, if you still want to break up I'll be okay. Just please let me explain." He said in a rush. I used to love it when he did that, but now It just made me want to hug him and tell him it's okay.
He took my silence as an answer then he started to explain. "I was not cheating. I know what it looks like but she was just helping me pick out your ring. I wanted to get the perfect ring and I didn't tell you I wanted it to be a surprise and I had it custom made for you, so please believe me." He said it so fast I almost didn't hear him. I hugged him before kissing him.
"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I thought that." I said hugging him tighter he gently pulled back before talking. "It's okay. I understand, I didn't realize how bad it looked until it was too late. I would have thought that too." I said getting on one knee. "Now will you please marry me?" I got down to his level before kissing him. "Of course! I love you so much!!"
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theminecraftbee · 8 months
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"Pick 2 fics and I'll combine them somehow"
Attempt 33 and solving counting sheep?
(was going to ask scs + boatem roadtrip, but that was answered by a crystal clear mental image of the meme "gee Three, how come you get two crises of selfhood after being changed into something eldritch by forces beyond your control")
okay so there are two directions to take this one--actually no hold on make that three:
three stuck in a time loop, we write about the thirty-third attempt to escape this time loop. interestingly, i think that while three wouldn't have the SAME neuroses about it as joe hills (fewer groundhog day references, for one, but also three has less of a painful need to help people to its own detriment), it would have a similar problem of "constantly approaching the goal line and refusing to entertain getting off of that path". this would be a fic in which three has a few brand new existential crises, for sure! i think that three would like... be less transparently SAD about everything? but also would be a lot more. this would be a fast way to get three to descend into mission mode. it'd be fun!
joe hills turned into a watcher weapon. to be honest, i don't know where, exactly, to take that one; i knew what i wanted from three because i was playing in the territory of a bunch of existing tropes. i knew what a typical watcher!grian looked like, i knew what a typical winter soldier fic looked like, and i knew what themes of identity i wanted to play with. joe hills would be a bit more uncharted, partially on the front of "there really aren't as many joe hills whump tropes for me to play around with unfortunately" and partially on the front of "well, three ISN'T grian, and i'm not sure what shape i'd make the person who isn't joe". so, there you go there.
but then i remembered another old fic idea i could mention that, in a literal plot sense, doesn't combine these two fics that much, but in a THEMATIC sense, very much does. anyway a while ago i had this fic idea i never wrote out where, one day, traffic!cleo wakes up in hermit!cleo's place, in a universe where we assume those are two different people who live two different lives, and the fallout from that is Messy To Say The Least. this is one of those fics i have a title from a song for in my head--"To a Poet"--and a few VERY STRONG scenes in my head. for the record the themes here that combine are "joe's inability to stop helping people even to his own detriment", "dealing with people seeing you for someone you aren't and expecting you to remember things you don't", and "oh my god all of these people have so much trauma and that affects their relationships so bad". man i should pull this fic out of the back burner again sometime, it really was a good idea...
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shai-manahan · 2 months
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Hi! It's been a while since I've talked about the upcoming updates, but I finally had a chance to actually sit down and make plans! (the life of a corporate slave, am I right? 🙃)
It has something to do with the changes I will be implementing on my patreon, though. I've thought for a while how to give content that's worthwhile of subscriptions while also making sure I can be comfortable with them, and in all honesty, I had a tricky time doing it. HM is too personal for me, as I used to talk about before, and some of the patreon benefits I promised before eventually felt too revealing - of my own thoughts and people whose lives were a huge inspiration for this story.
I will be talking about these changes and the update schedules as well below the cut.
UPDATES
I aim to finish at least half of HM's Book 1 this year. It seems to be a more realistic goal than forcing myself to finish everything right away (which tbh may have been a huge pressure I put on myself the past few years), though admittedly, things are unpredictable in the field I'm in; my job is full of overtime hours, and I spend most of my weekends trying to recover (or sick).
Still, I gotta finish it one way or another, and it's not going to write itself (though I wish it would!), so yeah, set realistic deadlines, pull out a few all-nighters, and maybe I'll actually get through it, who knows?
I do hope I'll have steadier finances by the time Book 2 starts so I can put more focus on writing and have sufficient energy for it, but that's a conversation for another day.
Changes in Prologue - Chapter 2
Okay. I know I promised not to make revisions until I write more chapters, but changing how some game mechanics work and reworking the stats made it a necessity, and I underestimated how much rewriting I'd have to do. A few scenes ended up not working well anymore, and I couldn't resist from revising a few clunky sections while I was at it.
Dialogue options were one of those that were significantly affected by the stat changes, but no worries, nothing is changed in the story -- meaning Wesley still fucks with the Ripper's life (oops), Richard still goes off doing whatever non-sus thing he's doing, you can still punch Bale (it's even a lot funnier this time), Bertrand remains a bitchy cop, and you'll still have your sad flashback with your former best friend/lover/crush or whatever they are to your MC.
The plan is to release the updated version of Prologue and Chapter 1 to patrons by the end of March (I will have a few days off work that week) and release it to the public once the new content is also ready, which I presume will be available next month (I will keep you all posted but I really hope I can get it done by then because it's been forever 🥲).
I might tweak Chapter 2 a little so the available portion can stand on its own rather than be divided into two parts, because it's just too long lmfao and is harming the pacing as I keep worrying about the length. I'm also incorporating a few suggestions a few folks gave me these past few months.
Succeeding chapters
I've probably said this before but things are bound to get more insane in HM once we're past the first three to four chapters. But also quicker to write in a way. They're the kind of scenes I thrive in, and while they have bigger variations, they're a lot more fast-paced, characters start being manipulative little shits, and the threats are more prevalent than ever. Your Ripper will not have a good time, but I certainly will (I say as I look at my outline and get sad doing it). There will be a few "breaks" in between, but this is not and will never be a light-hearted story. Anyway, I'm inclined to believe I'll be more consistent with updates when that time comes, so bear with me for now :')
PATREON CHANGES
This is getting long, so I'll just list the updated tier benefits and end the day with it. I'll be posting a schedule that I will be committing to (here and on patreon tomorrow morning), with the below details as well (so if you wanna stop here that's totally valid) but for now, here's the tentative list:
Tier 1
Early access - 4 days before a public update (this month will be an exception and you'll get the update as soon as the other tiers get it, too).
Sneak peeks and deleted scenes - I included the latter because apparently I delete a lot of great scenes
Hints for future revelations in the story - the categories will depend on results of polls; the hints may be about Bale's death, about Ripper's family, Pharos, Cyro, the ROs themselves, or the nightmares that the MC is getting, etc. Might be in form of vague conversations/dialogues between unknown characters, might be me dropping subtle info about those involved. Either way, it will be fun :). The polls and these hints will be given monthly.
Tier 2
Early access - 1 week before a public update
all the other benefits for Tier 1
monthly RO snippets - I'm still experimenting with this, but I might simply write MC x RO snippets (with different kinds of MCs for different scenarios because I deeply hate writing blank slate MCs, sorry)
a choice to see the POV of a character, decided through polls, for every chapter/update.
Tier 3
Early access - as early as it's available and goes through testing stages
all other benefits for previous tiers
Non-RO short stories
Previews on unintroduced characters :)
That's all for tonight! I am so tired lmfao but I hope you all are having a great weekend so far! See you tomorrow :)
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fruitsoxs · 9 months
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Hi I really love your writing, and I especially love the way you write angst!
May I request angst with misunderstandings or miscommunication with eventual fluff/smut featuring wolfwood and/or vash? Thank you and have a nive day!
( 。ớ ₃ờ)ھ
friendly reminder that i won't write smut for anons! but fluff is just fine !
pairing(s); wolfwood x (NB) reader warnings; a bit of angst, fighting, wolfwood is a little harsh and angry, there's a creepy person but they're dealt with fast wordcount; 1.7k notes; i have a vash version that i just can't get right. i'll eventually publish it, but for now have some wolfwood content. also this is kinda of 98 wolfwood coded
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You pop open the tavern door to the outside, a spring in your step as you make your way over to the man currently leaning on the railing outside.
After rescuing a town from nasty bandits, the town decided to throw a party for your group of friends. Vash, Meryl, and Milly all seem to be enjoying the festivities inside. However, you noticed that a certain priest had excused himself outside without word. A little nervous he was going to leave, you decided to follow the man out.
He looks over at you, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He breathes in the smoke, and then lets it out before turning his body to face you. His normally goofy smile is replaced by something a bit…more sad. You don’t seem to notice his change in demeanor, too tipsy from all the free drinks the town was seemingly giving out. “Nicholas~” you sing at him, skipping forward until you stop right in front of him.
“What are you doing out here? The party is inside!” you ask him with a little grin.
He notices your state, and immediately goes tense. He takes a deep breath through his nose, then tilts his head up. “What do you want?” he seemingly snaps, obviously not in the best of moods. Your eyes widen at the immediate anger, the smile dropping from your face. You weren’t expecting him to be so…rude. Especially with how he treated you earlier after that fight. He was so worried about a little cut you got, even offered to help clean it up. It was such a nice moment…
Now his eyes are focused on anywhere but you, his muscles tense. He looks as if he’s uncomfortable to even be in your presence. He lets out another sigh when you don’t answer right away, and turns away once again. He looks out into the street with a glare you’re sure is meant for you.
Maybe spurred on by the alcohol in your system, you let out a little huff of annoyance at his attitude. “What’s your problem?” you ask, pouting slightly.
“You’re my problem.” He says simply, not even looking at you. There’s a sense of regret in the air after he says this, almost as he can’t even believe he said it himself. But he doesn’t back down. He’s not sure what’s wrong with him, but he’s angry. “And this isn’t the time or place to be talking about this.” he says dismissively.
“No- why are you suddenly so mad at me? What did I do? I thought we were doing okay…everything seemed okay earlier after-” He cuts you off with a growl, finally turning to face you again. “I said to leave it alone. Stop talking to me.” He almost demands. He takes a few steps back to make some distance between the two of you. The cigarette falls from his lips, landing on the ground. “Go away.”
Your eyes widen at the outburst. Tears begin to gather as you take a step back. You want to say more- demand more, but what can you do? Clearly he’s not in the mood to talk, and would much rather push you away. Even after the things he said earlier, even after the almost kiss you shared.
He turns away the moment he sees your tears. This isn’t the way things were supposed to go, but this isn’t where he wanted to have this conversation. This was supposed to be a celebration, and the last thing he wanted to do was ruin everyone’s fun. There was no point in talking about all of this now, but he didn’t mean to hurt you. An overwhelming guilt starts to gnaw at his senses.
You look down at the ground. “Fine.” You mumble, before turning away and heading back inside the tavern. The door slams behind you. You make your way to the bar and accept a drink offered to you by one of the townspeople, immediately downing the liquid. You’re not exactly sure what it is, but it burns as it goes down.
If he doesn’t want to talk, then fine, you’ll party with everyone else. You’ll distract yourself from the overwhelming sadness in your gut, and try to have a little fun without him.
Hours pass, and the celebration has only gotten more wild. The music is louder, and the people are drunk and sloppy. Vash is absolutely out of it as he spins in circles with a grin on his face,. Milly is completely out of it, and Meryl seems to be the only person still sober enough to function. She has taken the job of waving off anybody that gets too close to Milly. You aren’t drunk, but you definitely aren’t sober as you dance around with random people.
The only other person who seems sort of sober is Wolfwood, who’s off to the side clutching onto a random drink as he watches you dance. He’s got a permanent frown on his face. While everyone else seems to be having fun, he’s definitely not. He just can’t seem to get over how he treated you earlier.
He really didn’t mean to snap. He knows you must be feeling heartbroken right now, especially after earlier. It’s just that…he can’t. He can’t stop thinking about watching you get hurt during that stupid fight with those stupid bandits. It’s not like the threat of death is new. You travel with Vash, there’s always been a risk. He knows that. Watching you get hurt today still shook him. He almost threw the fight to make sure you were okay.
Then, after he was tending your wounds he almost kissed you.
It’s become clear that his feelings for you are more than just friends. He just doesn’t know how to handle it. He’s been fighting his entire life, and he’s not going to stop any time soon. How can he ever realistically fit you into that picture without you getting hurt? It’s impossible. With him, you’re bound to run into trouble eventually.
But he…loves you.
He clenches his hand around his drink as he watches a random guy spin you around in a circle. His eyes have been fixated on you this entire time, watching to make sure you’re okay. He can tell, despite the smiles you’re giving off, that something is wrong. You’re probably still upset, and he doesn’t blame you for that at all.
He takes another sip from his and lets out a deep sigh.
Something catches his attention. Your dance partner’s hand falls a little bit too low as they lean in to whisper something in your ear. He sits forward in his seat, waiting to see how you react. When you try to push away from the stranger, Wolfwood stands up. The stranger keeps their arms around you, keeping you trapped against them.
Hell no.
He slams his drink down and walks over. He pays no mind to the people around him as he moves through the crowd, forcing people to jump out of his way. Once he’;s over next to you, he puts his hand on the stranger’s shoulder, digging his fingers into him.
“Excuse me. Is there a problem here?” he asks the stranger, a fake smile stretched across his features. The stranger looks a little annoyed at first, until he takes in the sight of the man before him. They mumble out a quiet “no.” and yank themselves out of Wolfwood’s grasp. They scurry off into the crowd, leaving you and Wolfwood alone.
You stare up at him for a second, unsure of what to say. You’re thankful for his help, but you’re still unhappy with the man. You cross your arms over your chest and look at the floor. “Thank you.” you finally say.
Wolfwood sighs and holds out a hand. “I’m…sorry…” he mumbles under his breath. You look wince as someone bumps into you. Wolfwood wraps an arm around you to help keep you steady. The people around you are still dancing, oblivious to the events that just happened. It’s a bit overwhelming, and Wolfwood can tell you’re getting upset. So, he starts to pull you away from the scene.
Despite the fact you’re still angry, you let him. You want to get away from the party for a second.
He pulls you to the back of the bar and lets his arm drop. You stare up at him in awkward silence for a second, before he sighs and repeats his words. “I’m sorry.” he says it louder this time, making sure you can hear him. “I'm sorry for snapping at you. I just…”
He looks around, running a hand through his hair. You can tell he’s getting nervous. It’s an emotion you don’t see him wear very often. It’s almost endearing to see him so…shy. He looks down into your eyes and takes a deep breath.
“I shouldn’t have said all that stuff. I do want to talk to you about things- I just needed a moment to gather my thoughts. I was never angry at you- I was …scared of my own feelings. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” He keeps his gaze locked with yours as he talks.
“Scared of what feelings?” you ask, curious to know what upset him so much.
He looks down. “I ... realized that my feelings for you are...” he trails off, stuttering slightly. “What I mean is that I...I just like you.” he finally gets it out. The sentence makes your heart start to pound. You understand now.
You reach out a hand and put it in his. “It’s okay.” you mumble softly as your fingers interlock with his. His hands are big, and a little cold. “I mean it’s not okay, but I understand. I forgive you.” You smile softly at him and pull him a bit closer.
Before he can say anything, you stand up on your top toes and press a kiss to his cheek. “We can talk about it later. I’ll be patient. But…I like you too.”
He smiles and pulls you into his arms, hugging you close. Despite the little fight from earlier, you know everything will be okay.
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Note
legitimately fuckin obsessed with the avatrice football au my dude. that last snippet brought me pure JOY im tellin you what
[well here's some ava pov while i procrastinate ch3 plot lol, s/o to @unicyclehippo for the worst/best gay pun of all time, love u. honestly this is long enough to put on ao3 so ... i'll do that in a footy au series i suppose for context... justice for chanel lol]
///
waking up from your first surgery is a blur, mostly an inexplicable terror when you can’t feel your legs, when you can barely move your fingers. tears leak from your eyes and you can’t wipe them, can only let them roll down into your temples. but then there’s a hand in yours, and chanel’s comforting touch, her voice soft.
‘it’ll be okay, ava,’ she says.
it won’t be okay, you’re certain of it, because you’d been taken straight from the field to the hospital, and then right into surgery, your kit cut off so that they didn’t move your spine more than you already had. you love football; you love football, the feeling of being so at home in your body, the feeling of going fast and the delight of the burn in your muscles, of not being afraid of anything.
‘i’m really scared.’ you look at chanel, showered and gorgeous, in a team issued bomber that seems impossibly elegant, even now. 
‘yeah,’ she grants, swipes her thumb against your cheeks and into your hair, catching your tears. she grabs a tissue and wipes your nose, which, from anyone else, would be absolutely horrifying, but she does it with so little fanfare and you’re in pain and also not pain — the worse option — you can’t even really care. she’s your favorite teammate: kind and brave and funny. she’s your friend. ’you’re gonna get through this, though.’
‘i don’t — i don’t want to.’
you don’t even quite know what you mean, still out of it because of pain meds and anesthesia, but chanel sighs gently.
‘you will. one day, you will.’
/
you don’t, not for a long time. after your fifth surgery you kind of tell yourself that you’ve definitely given up on football; they move you to a long-term rehab facility specifically for spine injuries, which is better than the hospital for sure, but it’s still hours and hours of physical and occupational therapy that leaves you feeling discouraged more often that not. once the inflammation starts to go down in your spine, you start to, at least, regain some function in your arms and hands, and after your sixth surgery, things are, you’ll admit, more hopeful. at the very least, you’ll be able to do things like use a manual chair and cook and type emails. 
you’re not great at texting yet; your occupational therapist is always telling you that if you worked on writing, and holding cutlery, and even more boring, pointless shit like pick up sticks, you’d have an easier time, but, whatever, you can type with the pointer finger of your right hand and it gets the job done. chanel visits as often as she can, most days in the late morning, which feels particularly generous in the off season when she could be being glamorous somewhere else, probably invited to paris fashion week or something. she brings makeup — expensive, beautiful makeup — and doesn’t seem to care when you clumsily fuck up lipstick or poke your eye with a mascara wand. you know she brings it so you actually do your occupational therapy exercises, but she also brings you changes of comfortable clothes and washes your hair gently every few days. she lies back in bed with you, long limbed and beautiful, and watches matches when you don’t feel too sad. 
a few days after your eighth surgery, your last, according to your neurosurgeon, you wear a giant back brace over your beatrice xin jersey, your favorite player to watch, and your physical therapy team gets you strapped into this harness that connects to the ceiling so you can try to walk on the treadmill and for sure won’t fall. it kind of feels like you’re doing a stunt or something, and chanel stands there and indulges you with a smile while you make all of your best ‘strapped into a harness’ jokes.
and then — you do walk. it’s slow going, the treadmill barely moving, and your legs feel sluggish and so weak and almost not like your own. it’s been two months since you took a step and it feels like a fucking miracle. chanel wipes a tear or two from her own eyes, even though you can only walk for five minutes and are sweating kind of profusely — it’s a fucking miracle, and she understands it too. 
/
‘what are you frowning at?’
she rolls her eyes and pockets her phone, easily pedaling with insane resistance on the peleton next to you while you struggle to get your legs to listen to your brain and pedal at all. ‘idiot bros on twitter. “trans women don’t belong in women’s sports” and all that bullshit.’
you stop trying to pedal because you’re already entirely unsuccessful today and now you’re not able to focus at all. ‘fuck them.’
she grins. ‘yeah.’
‘i’ll beat them up, just you watch.’
it makes her laugh, and you think she knows you really would physically get into a fight — on or off the field — if anyone ever said anything to her. 
‘plus, i can take you 1v1.’
‘in your dreams, silva.’
‘i’m going to, again. don’t even think i won’t.’
chanel pats your hand; you feel it all. ‘i’ve always known you could do it. i’ve never thought you wouldn’t, ava.’
you duck your head, unused to genuine praise after all this time stuck in the same boring, discouraging, painful rooms at the spine center, even though all of your doctors and nurses and therapists had been nice.
‘but,’ she says, ‘first you gotta pedal on this bike.’
‘it’s hard,’ you whine.
‘you’re just distracted.’
you look at the game you’d turned on, beatrice xin currently with two goals and two assists, and sigh. ‘i’m horny.’
it gets the biggest, best laugh out of chanel, and you feel a little something like pride bloom in your chest: you love making people you care about laugh. 
‘fine, fine,’ you grumble. you look down at your feet, your quads and calves so small and pale compared to six months ago; you try to breathe through the immediate fear and the tiny bit of shame that pops up. but you focus, feel your feet firmly on the pedals, think about how you know how to ride a bike; you know how to stand up straight and put on pants and kick a ball. the back brace you have on feels tight, feels restricting — but you focus on activating your quads, then your hamstrings, and you eventually get the pedals to move.
‘hell yeah,’ chanel says.
‘if you try to give me a high five right now i think i’ll get all scrambled if i try to move my hand.’
she laughs, reaches over and pats the top of your head instead. 
/
‘ava silva,’ chanel says, and you grin; you can’t help it. she holds her phone at a, thankfully, flattering angle as you walk along the beach — slowly, but steady: you trust you won’t fall, that you’re strong enough and getting stronger. ‘what does freedom feel like?’
chanel has like… three million followers, and she loves social media, something that your old club has always been thrilled about. they hadn’t renewed your contract, but you’d understood; they’re still paying for all of your medical care, so you don’t really feel upset, just a sense of loss you’re not quite ready to name. but chanel loves you, and she’s so, so happy for you — even if you never play again, you’re walking and even starting to run now; you’re in pain but it’s manageable. it’s okay.
‘it feels —‘ euphoric; devastating — ‘like a miracle.’
/
you flop down on chanel’s neatly made and extravagent bed; you’ve been staying in her guest room — which she had turned into her closet, so it’s still kind of packed with all of her beautiful clothes, although there is a very expensive bed for you — and training until, hopefully, you can get signed somewhere. she doesn’t even look up from her ipad when you sigh. ‘hello, ava.’
‘i have a favor to ask that i actually think you’ll be interested in.’
she pauses whatever she’s doing, then looks up. ‘i’m listening.’
‘well! okay, so. as you know, i’ve basically only worn hospital gowns and sweats for the last year and a half, and before that, i was, like, a child.’
chanel perks up, and you can practically see the wheels in her head turning already.
‘and now, wherever i get signed, you know, people are gonna care, and want interviews and all this stuff. so, in small part, i want to feel good about how i look for this next chapter of football.’
‘i love it,’ she says. ‘and what’s the large part?’
you flop back again, just for the dramatics. ‘i am… so horny. like, you don’t even understand.’
she laughs. ‘JC is nice though, right?’
‘yeah,’ you say, because he is. ‘but, like, girls.’
she pauses for a second, a happy smile on her face. ‘so, you want to look… more… bisexual?’
‘i mean, i do already? because i am? right?’
‘well, of course, ava.’ it’s gentle and reassuring but still a little amused.
‘but — yeah. like, i want to pick stuff i love, my clothes and my hair and whatever, gain back control, blah blah, everything my therapist is always going on about.’
‘your therapist is great, you love her.’
‘sure.’ she is; you do. ‘so anyway, i just — i guess i just want to feel like myself.’
‘now that,’ chanel says, ‘is a favor i love.’
/
‘you’re sure?’
‘it doesn’t matter if i’m sure,’ chanel says, sitting in the hairdresser’s chair next to yours. you have the salon to yourselves; she’d booked you a private appointment with her hairstylist immediately.
you turn to said stylist, dimitri, with their chic and very neat fade. ‘are you sure?’
‘like chanel said,’ they say. ‘it only matters what you want. we don’t have to do anything big.’
you look in the mirror; you hadn’t had the real opportunity to get a haircut in a long time, being in the hospital and rehab and then spending as much time as you could training after that. you haven’t, really, taken the time to deeply care for yourself, something your therapist has been bothering you about. you want, so badly, to live as big as you can. as much as you can. 
‘well, i’m sure, as long as you think it’ll, like, be good for my face shape or whatever.’
chanel and dimitri share a quick glance and then chanel rolls her eyes. ‘ava, you have to know that you’re beautiful, right?’
you pause for what you feel is an appropriate amount of time. ‘yes.’
‘but since you asked,’ dimitri says, ‘i do think this will be great for your face shape.’
‘alright,’ you say, feeling suddenly very excited and a little buoyed. ‘let’s fucking do it, then.’
chanel cheers and dimitri grins; they wash your hair gently, and you feel a little panicked until chanel starts talking about the threesome she had a few nights ago, which is delightful and grounding enough you stay, fairly easily, in the present of this beautiful, outrageously expensive salon, the control you get to have. not that you’re thrilled about your therapist being completely 100% correct, but… she was right. 
dimitri dries your hair and then combs it out patiently, divides it and then clips up the top part. ‘ready?’
‘definitely.’
chanel grins and it’s easy, so much easier than you knew it would be, to sit and watch yourself become. you’re filled with a sense of joy, this tiny seed that grows as dimitri cuts your hair to your chin precisely, and asks you about your plans for the day, and food you love, and chanel talks about her latest modeling contract — in addition to football, which amazes you in a way that makes you feel proud in the very center of your chest, this incredible person who showed up and helped take care of you. you feel your shoulders relax; you feel your feet firmly in the new sneakers converse had sent you, comfortable and cool; you even take time to feel your butt in the chair with the knowledge that you don’t need to do any pressure reliefs or weight shifts because, when dimitri is done, you’ll be able to stand up and walk and dance and run and even play football. and even if — even if — one day, you couldn’t, you have your friends and your teammates and your life.
‘you look hot, ava,’ chanel says, very genuinely, after dimitri finishes with a leave in, then shows you how to dry your hair and recommends a light oil. 
‘go ahead,’ they say, ‘run your hands through it, all that jazz.’
to touch; to feel. you think you might cry, all of a sudden, with your soft hair that you picked, that you wanted, and chanel takes in your wobbling bottom lip and then tuts and pulls you toward her. because of your height difference, your face is basically smooshed into her chest and, even though you do cry, you laugh too, wet and messy and alive.
‘this probably my favorite place in the world,’ you say.
chanel shoves you playfully and you grin up at her. 
‘thank you.’
she waves you off, as she always does when she’s a little overwhelmed too. ‘don’t thank me yet. now we have to go shopping.’
/
it’s not as bad as you’d feared; despite the fact that chanel only wears the most elegant designer clothes — her closet is full of gucci and bottega and, of course, chanel, and a whole shelf of louboutins — but she also loves you and knows you, deeply, and so when her driver pulls up to a row of a few very cool-looking thrift stores, you have to hug her again. she gives you helpful feedback on pieces and outfits and you feel, quite genuinely, happier than maybe you ever have. you buy crop tops and high waisted, loose jeans and a few sweaters you love; some silly earrings and a necklace and a cap that chanel laughs at, but fondly enough you know it works. you find a men’s button up with a bunch of flames on it and she rolls her eyes but you put it on anyway, knot it at your waist so it feels just above your shorts.
‘do i look bi?’
‘you look a little bit crazy, but i definitely wouldn’t think you’re straight.’
you’re practically shaking with excitement: ‘it’s… flaming. i’m flaming! get it!’
chanel groans. ‘ava,’ she says, but wraps an arm around your shoulders and throws it on the growing pile anyway.
/
you feel happier than maybe you ever have until the next morning, when you come back from a silly game of football on the beach with her and JC and a few of your other friends, your hair spilling out of the tiny bun you’d managed to get it into, which had made you laugh, and sit down to have some burrata — another one of your favorites that chanel indulges in getting for you from time to time, even did while you were in the hospital and she had to put it on little crackers and feed it to you herself — and then accept a call from your agent. you step inside to take it, close the door softly. 
after it’s done, you yank the door open this time, burst onto the patio. all of your nerves are alive; in your shorts, your legs look strong again, tan and muscular and capable.
‘good news?’
you’re almost too excited to explain that you’re getting signed by your favorite club, $6 million for the year, with, if all goes well, an option to extend your contract another season after. a bonus: they just hired dr. jillian salvius, one of the best sports specialists in the world. all of your care will be, of course, included.
chanel starts to cry, which makes you start to cry, and she hugs you to her tightly. 
‘i am so happy for you,’ she says. ‘and i’m really gonna miss you.’
‘i’m gonna miss you too,’ you tell her. 
she backs up and puts her hands on your shoulders, a smile sneaking up her face. ‘you know, i happen to remember your favorite player in the whole entire world playing at a certain club.’
you hadn’t really thought past football and then six million dollars, but — ‘fuck.’
chanel laughs, face beautiful and delicate and rich in the sun. ‘i can’t wait to show her pictures of you in her jersey.’
‘oh god, are there any on my instagram? i have to go check.’
she just keeps laughing, and it’s all brimming, so wonderful, right at your fingertips.
/
you sign a few days later, your hands steady.
/
‘well,’ chanel asks, lounging back in bed on zoom, ‘how was day one?’
‘oh my god.’ your hair is still wet from the shower you took at the training grounds; you had raced back to your new apartment to make sure you were on time for your call. ‘i got there early, to play a little bit, get the nerves out, you know. and guess who was there and wanted to play 1v1?’
she grins. ‘no fucking way.’
‘i got schooled, obviously,’ you say, think of the way beatrice xin had moved with the ball, how surely she went into tackles, how precise she was. ‘i did score twice, though, and nutmegged her once. greatest football moment of my life, i’m pretty sure.’
‘what’s she like?’
you think chanel is probably humoring you, but you don’t care. ‘beatrice is… beautiful.’ it’s really the only word you have: her neat bun that stayed in place perfectly other than a few errant strands by the end of the session today; her clipped, lovely accent; the way her calves had looked while she was sprinting; the delicate lines of her face; her freckles and her eyes; how she had been serious and professional but kind; her strong back, muscles rippling under her skin in a way that made you shiver, in the locker room when she had untucked her quarterzip and pulled it over her head; how she seemed lonely, despite it all. ‘she’s really beautiful.’
/
it’s a while later when the sheer mortification dawns on you, but then beatrice, in her weird, hot, hilarious way, seems to dissipate the extreme embarrassment you’re going to be faced with by being embarrassing first.
‘hello, chanel.’ she reaches out her hand very seriously, in her favorite linen jumpsuit and a very expensive pair of off-white dunks and black, cat eye sunglasses that are honestly cooler than you expected, in front of her favorite nice brunch place. chanel shoots you a glance and then shakes bea’s hand firmly while you both try not to laugh. 
‘hey, it’s great to meet you.’
‘you, as well,’ bea says. ‘i — before we sit, i just wanted to extend my admiration, for the work you have done both on and off the field for trans equity in our sport.’
it’s so serious, and so genuine, chanel seems a little disarmed and a little affected. ‘thank you.’
bea nods once, seriously. ‘and, maybe more importantly, even, my deep gratitude, for caring for ava. she’s spoken so highly of you, and it means — i love her,’ bea decides on, after a pause. ‘i’m glad, immeasurably so, that she has people who love her too.’
chanel suspiciously sniffles. ‘can i give you a hug? is that weird?’
bea smiles, a real smile, your favorite, and opens her arms. you resist the urge, passionately, to make a joke about how the two hottest (sorry, lilith) women you know together is really gonna do it for you during your alone time later, which is honestly a fucking feat.
‘well,’ chanel says, ‘i made a presentation of every embarrassing thing ava has done that you should know about.’
‘oh no.’
bea loops her arm with chanel when she gallantly offers, and bea says, ‘oh yes.’ you trail behind them, feeling short and small and bursting with happiness. chanel orders basically the entire menu for you to try and she and bea laugh at your expense when chanel opens her phone and does, indeed, have an entire canva presentation of you being embarrassing, but you don’t really mind at all. the sun warms your shoulders and you drink champagne that costs way too much money, the bubbles bright on your tongue. chanel laughs and bea puts her hand on your thigh, just like that: you feel it all.
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oscconfessions · 2 months
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II is the first show that acctually made me dissapointed in how a ship ended up canon/semi canon/implied/whatever.
I was so hyped for silvercandle but I feel like there's no way the writers can save them anymore(for me atleast) it's like every single episode I just lost more Faith in the fact they know what there doing. With the ship and their characters.
I was hoping Candle and Silver would get some built up for their characters, uniornically I added so much to them both when waiting for episodes, giving them flaws intersets, kind of shaping them into my own versions of them. I even made them a fankid! I barely make fankids!
But the way it feels to me now is that Candle just exists for silver to have some arc and Silver is just a mess of a character at this point.
And it's so sad as well, if you told me in the past that Silver's having a cursh would be implied/canon I would be jumping around with joy, I wouldn't belive you because it would sound too good to be true.
It's really a "I won.. But at what cost" moment for me,
I have never lost such interset in any characters so fast
Honeslty it's all the fault of that goddam inner flame, I started to "dislike it" when people pointed out II's past rep with alters and the fact this was simallar yada yada, BUT FOR SILVER I FUCKING HATE IT SO MUCH
It's like the looked at his development and threw it all out the window(albiet they were doing that to a Lesser extent before), it feels like the inner flame exists so they can have angst.
Like crap I'm sad to say it but the only way I think their arc can be any type of fuffiling at this point is if Candle says "lol fuck you", honeslty if the writers have the balls to do that props to them.
Like god I could go on and on how I'd write them and how'd I'd fix the more imo gallring issues, but them again that version would REALLY be like a "guilty pleasure fix it, make it for me" fic
I'll be honest most of this isn't really that objective, A lot of my feelings come from the fact I wanted to see them in a way the writers didn't see them (which is vaild, it's their characters yada yada) but that dosen't mean I have to like it...
(God sorry if this has spelling mistakes usually I feel like grammer checking my asks but I just don't feel like it rn, also expect a rant abt Silver in this lovley ask box)
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