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#in circumstances of extreme cold
moonlit-ripples · 1 year
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a volo I don't think i'll ever finish
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cowboyhorsegirl · 10 months
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the only good website is coolmathgames.com
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loveemagicpeace · 4 months
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🪐Saturn in your life🪐
🦋One thing you should know about Saturn is that Saturn is the planet of restructures, authority, discipline, represent the older people,responsibilities, good and bad karma. And Saturn is protector. He will protect you from the accident & in general from the things that can go wrong. With saturn, we can put too much stress on ourselves and push ourselves over the edge and become exhausted from it. The planet is known for its reality and practicality. Also by a tendency to excessive strictness. His expectations may be too high. Powerful Saturn in the chart it can indicate that we want everything in ours control life to the extent that we consider ourselves to be unsuccessful if we fail to achieve the goals we set for ourselves set themselves. There are some things about Saturn again. 🦋
✨Saturn in 1st house-Saturn in the first house makes the individual very difficult, self-centered or serious. The individual takes himself and life very seriously. You are ambitious, persistent and stubborn. You secretly want to do things in your way. In your own way, you deal with resistance, arbitrariness, etc. In some cases, you want to control others. You are inclined to thinking, withdrawing from the world, thrift and caution. The individual plans, predicts, moves forward slowly and surely. You usually value ​​good reputation and honor very much. Things take a long time to come true. You are also prone to accidents due to negligence or divine intervention. They also showed disappointments, sorrows and heavy responsibilities. You can often feel lonely deep down.
☁️Saturn in 2nd house-Saturn in the second house makes the individual thrifty and conservative, but has an abundance of energy. You have a need to acquire wealth and property. Life progress is delayed or difficult. Saturn in the second house it produces circumstances that do not allow the individual to take full advantage of certain circumstances that may appear in his life. There are constant misdirections, delays that are extremely problematic, and lack of opportunities due to lack of money. At the same time, it can make you a person who works very carefully with money. People will never fool you. But it can create pressure to be able to have money because you can feel that without it you have no power or you are not enough. Saturn here can find enjoyment and live in the moment.
🦋Saturn in 3rd house-these people are very intelligent, smart, thoughtful. They have good concentration and great depth of thought. When they compare themselves to other peers, they feel that they are smarter because their thoughts are much more structured and focused on the chosen topic. A person with Saturn in the third house can be stubborn and dogmatic, if you realize that you are in danger through inappropriate information, you value ​​the knowledge that have been achieved on the basis of experience and practical observations, which you then structure in your memory. A person with Saturn in the third house is very careful when driving vehicles, so accidents and accidents are not very likely.
🫧Saturn in 4th house- The positions of Saturn in the fourth house can be connected with the domestic atmosphere, private matters, relations with parents and family dynamics as a whole. Saturn in the fourth house strongly cools all relationships in the home environment.Home and family may be completely satisfactory, clean and orderly from a formal point of view, but there is emotional emptiness, repulsion and coldness among family members. Maybe it's hard to find or get love. But it is not necessary (some people have a very good relationship with their mother and the mother can be very caring). Here there can be many connections with the father (it is possible that the father is always somewhere on the sidelines or you do not feel a connection with him). You can already feel more independent and less connected to your family at a young age.
⚡️Saturn in 5th house- The ambivalence of this position is manifested in the simultaneous overestimation and underestimation of one's own abilities and talents. A person with this position is not able to openly show his love, but can express it through material forms, for example through gifts. You long for recognition and praise everywhere, because you cannot find it in yourself, and you are so demanding of other people that in the end you can remain alone. These people can be too serious when it comes to having fun. It's hard for you to be childish. You may also be embarrassed to show off your talents or be seen. These people should find their inner child.
🪐Saturn in 6th house you will be happiest when you do work that is related to you and is not tiring. In fact, it is good for these people to do something that is easy and calm. A job that is too stressful can indicate serious health problems and can make you sick many times. The pressures at the workplace are sometimes so difficult that a person is no longer there able to perform his work correctly and with high quality, because he is deeply dissatisfied, hurt and frustrated. Daily habits and tasks (for example, hygiene, cleaning, house order, principles of behavior, etc.)are very precisely determined, as the individual demands absolute order and compliance with the established rules. This position indicates great persistence and patience, which is why a person often keeps a job or a workplace. A person's health is most strained when the individual is stressed day and night with the problems and disappointments he experiences in life, and he sleeps poorly, does not feel well, eats improperly and does not exercise enough.
❄️Saturn in 7th house- these people tend to find true love only later in life. They may have some relationships or one that can change their life. These people can be careful when choosing a person because sometimes they can go too fast into a relationship, which can end up being a big disappointment. You can also be afraid to go into a relationship or you are afraid of disappointment. Maybe you take it very seriously and don't like to get involved with people who aren't serious. Many times you like people who respect themselves and are more like Capricorns or have such traits. These people can also be focused more on people with whom they can be practical and can do something together. This position indicates a marriage with a person who is loyal, extremely hard-working and has a great sense of humor. The other partnerships are also loyal, hardworking on or responsible.
🌙Saturn in 8th house- These people are very connected to mysteries, transformation, things related to death. This position indicates financial problems of a marriage or business partner who is not as well off as the individual. Therefore, this was shown by the lack of benefits in business relations or marriage. Life can be limited by lack of resources. But at the same time, he can bring a person into his life who helps him and together they achieve great power and do business together. Saturn in the eighth house showed a slow death. Old books claim that Saturn in the eighth house, if it is in an unfavorable position and in a water sign, indicates the danger of drowning. They claim that if it is affected by Mars or Uranus, it can mean the danger of accidents that are fatal. Of course, these are just indicators. All I would say is that people with this position can be more optimistic because it will bring them a lot of satisfaction in life.
☔️Saturn in 9th house-you can find faith in something or the meaning of life. That way you will be able to make yourself happy. Too much pessimism can lead you to dissatisfaction and sadness. These people should be spiritual and believe in something. Finding a place that makes them happy is the only way they will be able to deal with saturn. Saturn in the ninth house often indicates the individual's separation from his homeland or the desire to move on to another country. If it is in a good position with the Sun, this is a good indicator of a personality devoted to religion.
💫Saturn in 10th house- It produces an individual with a personality that is highly focused, hard-working, disciplined, level-headed and diplomatic. An individual can have a one-sided view of life that is egocentric. Progress in life is assured, but slow. Saturn in the tenth house is difficult to identify without aspects and sign. In general, it indicates ambitions and the need for a position in society. They have to observe life well and make the right decisions. Sometimes you can push yourself too much when it comes to career business and reputation. You want it all and you can consider yourself as being unsuccessful if things are not going into the way you want it to be.
Saturn in 11th house- Saturn in this house usually means few friends or problems with them. It can also mean that the person has older, more serious friends. This position usually brings an ambitious person whose hopes and dreams are not they have solid foundations. This position indicates a person who wants to succeed in society. It can also indicate that you are too serious when it comes to friendship and that you can quickly resent and leave. You can be a person who is firm and knows what you want and has hard-set goals.
🛼Saturn in 12th house-Saturn in this house causes the person to be modest and timid. A person struggles and has many opponents. This position indicates that he works without recognition or works in solitude. Saturn in this house makes an individual who has hidden pains and disappointments. It is also an indicator of going to prison unjustly. However, it should be understood that prison can be in physical or psychological form. It can also mean being trapped in your own thoughts. But it also means that you can understand life much better than people. This placement leads to a disciplined approach to spirituality, mysticism, and the subconscious mind. Saturn here can also have a hard time letting go.
🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸
-Rebekah🦋🩵🫧
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ineffectualdemon · 4 months
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The thing about Moshang is because his actions look like abuse to humans Mobei looks awful. Because we mostly see from Airplane and Shen Qingqiu's viewpoint
But from Mobei's viewpoint he's being gentle
He's being thoughtful and restrained even when he should distrust Shang Qinghua at the inn after they first meet. From his point of view he's vulnerable and gentle with this stranger who:
1. Is a Human Cultivator- something he has no reason to be such things with and every reason to have fear of
2. Has kidnapped him- something that has happened to him before under much less nice circumstances
And yeah he leashes him and is demanding and spoiled like a prince would be and is rough....
But he doesn't really hurt him badly. He doesn't beat him and more crucially doesn't kill him
From Mobei's pov he's being extremely vulnerable and soft and almost demure and helpless seeming in front of someone who could hurt him very much. Who he knows could have, and probably should have, killed him
Someone he knows he himself should have killed when he killed the others
But he let him live and this human cultivatior risked himself to save him
From a demon culture standpoint this is a tender nursing an injured stranger back to health and slowly falling in love tale
And then the human just left
After Mobei trusted him! Was soft with him!
Ok so he was found by his sect and led them away from Mobei
That's also romantic and heroic
And he keeps letting Mobei be vulnerable around him. Sleeping on his bed, sharing his space unguarded
And Shang Qinghua keeps protecting their shared space
So of course he starts courting him by beating him three times a day! How else is supposed to show the depths of his affections
But while Shang Qinghua keeps sharing his space and seeking him out and staring with him naked attraction he never responds to the courting. Always putting space between them by calling himself a servant. It's a painful hot and cold of playing with his emotions that's gotta be extermely painful.
Like a guy who flirts with you unless his friends are around
Mobei Jun doesn't know whether he's coming or going
So while from a human prospective Mobei was cruel and abusive from a demon perspective Shang Qinghua has been stringing along Mobei since they were teenagers
The miscommunication of cultural differences and both of them hurting each other while trying to show their devotion in their own way is really remarkable
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ddarker-dreams · 1 month
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Worthy Motivator.
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Blade x Reader.
Warnings: Typical Blade morbidity, Blade's slightly yan because I can never write him as Normal, and not SFW implications. Word count: 1k.
Author notes are at the end of the story!
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Washcloth in hand, you wipe away the perspiration clinging to your skin. 
While doing so, you squint, an act your reflection obediently mimics, confirming that yes; this disheveled figure is indeed you. You smooth out your hair, moisturize your face, then apply a light layer of toner. The process is completed in a timely fashion. A few hand motions made midair dim the bathroom’s lights.
Yawning, the door slides open at your behest, retreating into the wall like a turtle does its shell. The room is dome-shaped and customized to your liking. A light birch wood floor, pale pink walls, and windows showcasing scenery of a tulip field stretching on for miles. Windmills dot the distance, turning at their leisure. Gentle orange hues from two rising suns envelop the room in a cozy glow. 
If you hadn’t known any better, you’d believe you were actually on the planet Ethos, not traversing the cold, unforgiving space between galaxies.
While playing with the settings to change the time being depicted to twilight, it finally dawns on you that you’re not alone. 
Blazing eyes freeze you in place and your breath catches in your throat. 
“Blade,” you greet, wincing at how gracelessly the word rolls from your tongue, “I didn’t expect…” 
You cut yourself off, figuring that finishing the sentence will strengthen the bizarre atmosphere. What can be said, anyway? ‘Thanks for that,’ or ‘couldn’t have done it without you,’ maybe? Both options seem equally terrible. To make matters worse, he doesn’t explain why he’s stuck around. He continues to stand beside your nightstand, arms crossed over his chest, his lips drawn in a straight line. 
You’re the only one boasting signs of your previous tryst, the most obvious being your unsteady gait. Hoping to convey some decorum, you clasp your hands behind your back and straighten your posture. Surely, he’ll spill whatever’s on his mind and then make himself scarce. That’s been his modus operandi ever since this undefined relationship stumbled into existence. You tried not to take it personally. You’re both adults, if he doesn’t want to stick around for pillow talk, you won’t fault him for it. 
His eyes sear through your being. 
“You’re going to Illij.” 
You blink, thrown off by the flat delivery and the intentions it conceals. He’s either painfully blunt or cryptic in his word choice. It’d be nice if he could find a middle ground between both extremes, but that’s wishful thinking. 
With unusual impatience, he adds, “Alone.” 
Ah. 
A certain magenta-haired beauty’s previous words resurface in your mind. 
“—Alone? Not taking Bladie along for the ride?” she had tutted. “You’ll hurt his feelings.” 
You thought she was teasing, as she’s wont to do, yet your developing dilemma proves otherwise. That, or you couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge the truth in her words. 
Whilst shifting your weight from one foot to another, you meekly reply, “Kafka gave me permission.” 
He has the audacity to roll his eyes at you. 
“Permission, huh?” 
The condescension corrodes your former sheepishness. 
Placing a hand on your hips, you reply, “That’s the word I used, yes.” 
Your room pulsates with palpable tension. He stands to his full height — having been seated on your bed’s edge — sauntering over like a cat poised to pounce. You cross your arms over your chest as the distance shrinks. He’s yet to fully dress himself, wearing only his signature gray pants. His bare torso is marred with innumerable scars that vary in length and angle. Every time you both succumb to the heat of passion, his bandages occupy a new spot, depending on the circumstances of his latest battles. Presently, the cloth coils around his midsection and upper left arm. 
He’s close enough now for you to notice the latter unraveling. 
It isn’t anything logical that urges you forward. The sentiment resides deep in the recesses of your psyche, unsuccessfully shoved down by denial and trepidation. This formless substance takes shape as you meet him halfway. Blade towers over you. Given the massive gap in your abilities, you should fear him, but you know your pounding heart isn’t spurred by negative emotion. 
Much to his perplexity, you set aside the nascent quarrel, focusing your attention elsewhere. Nimble fingers resecure the rebellious cloth. 
“You’re terrible at taking care of yourself,” you mutter. “Honestly, what am I s’posed to do with you…?” 
It’s subtle, but this shift in tone relaxes his muscles. That is, until you admit: 
“I don’t like you being my bodyguard.”
Confusion contorts his countenance, then something more raw; something dangerously intimate. 
“I don’t like seeing you get hurt because of me,” you continue, lowering both your voice and head. “It’s… it’s awful and— and then— you don’t even care!” 
Hoping to avoid further humiliation, you stop there, taking deep breaths to prevent tears from flowing. This wasn’t the direction you wanted the evening to take. You wanted to take a bath, dip into a game Silver Wolf wouldn’t stop raving about, and then prepare for your imminent trip. The trip that’d put thousands of lightyears between you and a man whose blood spilled for your sake could rival an ocean. 
“I’ll be fine on my own. I’ve got Silv’s disguise software and she knows how to track me. So — I don’t know — take it easy, or something. You’ve got the month off.” 
His response is immediate. “I can’t.”
“Wh— did you not hear anything I just said?” you sputter. 
“I heard,” he confirms. He raises his hand to the bandage you rewrapped, as if trying to savor your lingering warmth. “When you’re gone, I cannot ‘take it easy.’” 
Blade uses your stupefaction to his advantage. He takes your much smaller hand into his and places it over his heart. It thumps at a slow, steady pace, like it hasn’t been obliterated and formed anew thousands of times. Your fingers twitch. His body, though colder than the average person’s, emits just enough warmth to indicate life. You feel the raised, textured skin that’s present above his every vital organ. It speaks of untold horrors; untold suffering. 
His chest rumbles as he says, “If I’ve no choice but to live… you’d make for a worthwhile reason.” 
You rest your forehead against his chest and squeeze your eyes shut. 
Kafka… are you sure it isn’t my feelings that’re in the most danger? 
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A/N: owing to mental illness, aside from nexus, i devised another storyline for (slightly) less unhinged blade, this time with a stellaron hunter reader. while it has the material to make a series, i don't plan on starting up another multi-chaptered work until i make further progress into my current project 😭 still, i'm happy to talk about it if anyone's curious! here are some tidbits that give additional story context for this universe:
reader isn't super thrilled to be a stellaron hunter. a desperate situation ended in them joining the ranks. they're the emanator of the aeon of illumination, whose name i'm still undecided on. essentially, they're a 'consumer of stars,' capable of absorbing + storing well. you guessed it. stars. as you can imagine, this ability can provide immeasurable energy or devastation depending on its usage.
as a consequence, when reader's performing the sealing process, they're extremely vulnerable. it isn't exactly subtle, people tend to notice when their nearby sun is going cyaaaaaa ✌ and try to stop them. that's where bladie comes in. he kills anything and anyone that threatens them.
ethos is a pretty meadow planet that's known for harvesting clean energy (hydro, solar, wind) and using minimum technology. most of its inhabitants go their entire lives without ever seeing a computer. long distance communication is carried out through a dedicated fleet of carrier pigeons.
illij is a laissez-faire paradise. consumerism galore. ads projected in the night sky, ads projected in your dreams in certain low income areas where people can't afford space adblock™. it's a lot but sometimes reader appreciates the distraction.
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sixth-light · 1 year
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Can't be bothered putting this on the original post because it will disappear in the notes, but I promise as a native speaker of New Zealand English that when we use "chips" to refer to both fries-chips and crisps-chips, this is not a source of confusion in 99% of cases because, uh, it is pretty obvious from context that "fish and chips" (deep fried food) is not the same as "I'll bring some chips for D&D" (an occasion on which cold/room-temperature snacks are consumed). This operates in exactly the same way as the many other words in various English dialects which have contextual meanings.
In the VERY SMALL number of circumstances where someone is confused, this can be clarified immediately by referring to either "hot chips" (fries/wedges/etc) or "potato chips" (crisps). Anybody who is confused after this is either 1) a small child 2) not a native speaker of New Zealand English or 3) has...really specific and unusually limited life experience in re: chips.
To be fair, about a quarter of NZers are not native speakers of New Zealand English so this is not an uncommon occurrence, but our dialect is perfectly understandable TO US, thank. (And IME non-native speakers who move here pick up this distinction in pretty short order because, again, it's not that confusing in day-to-day speech.)
What this does mean, however, is that I was extremely offput and disappointed this week to find that the "hot chip" of the "be bisexual, eat hot chip, and lie" meme actually means, like, spicy Doritos. that ENTIRELY changes the meaning and quite frankly ruins it for me. gutted.
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flawseer · 8 months
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On Mudwing Culture
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My last deliberation on Seawings and their eccentric insult vocabulary seemed to be well-received, so here is another one of my headcanons:
Mudwings are seriously into food.
I know, pretty revolutionary take when there is only a handful of named Mudwing characters, and two of them love eating so much that it either almost or entirely eclipses their personality.
But Clay and Ochre are not what I am talking about. This isn’t about a love of eating (though many Mudwings admittedly do have that). I’m suggesting that, out of all the tribes from Pyrrhia, Mudwings are at the forefront of food preparation and culinary innovation, to the point where a large part of their culture revolves around it.
The State of Food Preparation on the Continent
Pyrrhia as a conglomerate of different cultures largely sustains its populations through hunting and gathering. The average dragon, when the hunger pangs set in, will make a hasty trip into the nearest forest, cave, or scavenger den and round up some prey animals. In most cases, this prey will go straight from the talons to the mouth, or, if the hunter is a bit more forward-thinking, into the pantry, and then from talons to the mouth.
There are a few variations of this practice; Skywings may give the carcass a quick roast on an open flame before eating it, Sandwings may dry the meat out so the excess moisture does not upset their internal water balance, Rainwings will prefer fruit over meat. Icewings will nearly always consume their prey raw and unseasoned, as their extremely delicate palate is easily overwhelmed by intense flavors that may be released through cooking.
More complex forms of food preparation seem to exist mostly outside the scope of the general populace. The practice of “cooking” appears to be limited to the ranks of aristocracy, with dedicated cooks only found within the court of a queen or in private households of other high-born individuals. It creates a sharp divide between commoners and social elites, between the wealthy and (as Sea Queen Coral once put it so succinctly) the “eel-eating masses”. All exemplified through the differing standards of food.
And yet somehow, standing in stark contrast to everywhere else on the continent, nearly every Mudwing-- from the most low-born runts of the Diamond Spray Delta to the most decorated head advisors in the Queen’s palace --knows how to cook, and will do so regularly.
Why is that, and how did it happen?
Historical Benefits of Cooking
Most things that form the backbone of a culture usually start with some ancient practice that was useful at some point in time and then, as people kept doing it, eventually got absorbed into public awareness and became “the way things are done”.
Mudwings face a unique challenge compared to anyone else, as they are the only tribe whose combat prowess is significantly affected by their environment, specifically climate, weather, and temperature. Sure, you can take any dragon, drop them into an unfavorable climate, and they will generally perform worse than under normal circumstances. But the unique weakness of Mudwings is that they lose their breath weapon when they get too cold. Place an Icewing into a burning room and they will still be able to use their frost breath. Pluck a Sandwing from their dry environment and drop them into the humid, sweltering hell of the jungle, their natural weapons will still function. But make a Mudwing cower between two piles of snow for a while, and their internal fire will go out quickly.
As you might imagine, this is a bit of a liability when you have to defend your territory from Skywings hiding and scheming among the frozen peaks bordering your country.
So the ancient Mudwings had to figure out a solution to their conundrum, and what they came up with was this: They got a large pot and filled it with water, threw in all manner of meats, plants, and herbs, whatever they could find where they were holed up, then boiled it until it was good and filling. The hot food in their bellies helped them stay warm even at high altitudes and allowed them to stand their ground against the northwestern invaders.
Soon it became tradition for troops to share a hotpot the night before battle, and a rich variety of hearty broths and stews developed from there, as these were simple to make from scraps and could be reheated easily. The practice became so popular, the Mudwings kept doing it even during peacetime. Soon, in addition to the hunting of prey animals that was commonplace, Mudwings began to cultivate vegetable gardens to have access to a more stable supply of ingredients. Eventually, their growing understanding of agriculture allowed them to grow rice, which was especially well-suited to the abundance of wetlands found in their territory. Everyone was cooking now.
The Role of Food in Mudwing Society
If you ask several Mudwings which core values represent their tribe best, many would likely put forward some variation of “camaraderie”, “family”, or “loyalty to your sibs”. They are a very social people who form deep bonds with those whom they grew up with, and one of the most direct ways to grow close to someone is to share your meals with them every day. As such, the preparation and consumption of food is a vital part in maintaining cohesion between members of a Mudwing sibling group.
Every one of these groups will have a “Bigwings”, which is understood to be a combination of a leader and caretaker role. The Bigwings is aware of all of their sibs’ culinary preferences and needs and has all of the troop’s recipes memorized. When mealtime approaches, he or she makes the call on what kind of dish will be prepared and delegates roles and tasks to the troop. This is a daily exercise that builds the Bigwings’ authority and communication skills, and reinforces trust and familiarity between all siblings.
Next to the Bigwings is the Gatherer, which historically was a role assigned to one or more troop members who foraged for wild vegetables or hunted more prey if the previous communal hunt did not yield enough. While this is still true today, many Gatherers also maintain a garden or wet patch to source fresh vegetables or grain for meals.
And lastly there is the Communicator, which is a role usually assigned to the most social and charismatic sibling. The Communicator is vital for coordinating battle strategies with other troops, which, while very important, is not really all that relevant for this deliberation. What is relevant however, is the role they fulfill during peacetime, which is to set up joint meals between two or more sibling groups. This practice is critical for maintaining morale, as doing this regularly helps expand the troop’s palette and keep their Bigwings inspired. That way the troop’s collection of recipes stays fresh and innovative instead of turning stale and rigid.
Of course how much each troop values culinary exploits varies between individuals. Some Mudwing groups are outspokenly passionate about cooking and advancing their craft. They might view their work as an expression of art and get very upset or offended if you indicate that thinking about food is unimportant or a waste of time. Some extreme cases may even get angry at you if you waste ingredients or refuse to elevate a dish to its fullest potential by not seasoning it well or doing something else to ruin it. Other groups may be more relaxed and casual about food preparation, and a few might even not think about it much at all.
If a Mudwing invites you to dinner, it is paramount to figure out which of these groups they belong to beforehand, so you may get an understanding of how much of a threat this outing may pose to your health, especially if you are an Icewing or Seawing with a limited palate.
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Is there any evidence for this in the books?
To my knowledge, there isn't much. Mostly because there isn't much about Mudwings and their culture in general. Across all the books, only one of them has a Mudwing protagonist, and the vast majority of it is spent in the Sky Kingdom, so his roots don't get a lot of exposure. Then whenever another Mudwing comes into the story, they tend to exit it very quickly after, without being able to share more.
I made this theory for myself largely in response to Mudwing culture being such a big question mark. I initially came up with it when I saw a Mudwing gardener in Escaping Peril and thought "That could be a cool direction for the tribe." The guidebook that released recently gave me some additional pointers with regards to a few of the looser points of this theory.
I'm hoping it is interesting, or at the very least entertaining in some way.
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tflaw · 2 years
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— THE HANDMAIDEN.
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In the frozen land where the outcasts belong and the peculiar is home, tomorrow is never promised. Intertwined your fate with the Harbingers might be, it’s in your best interest to remember: the cold swallows the weak and Snezhnaya knows no tears.
⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆ f!reader. undertones of yandere. unprotected sex. power play. a hint of dark content so be wary! further warnings are written on each character’s part! not proofread.
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PIERRO + breeding kink. lots of cum. unprotected.
it was the jester who first deemed a handmaiden like you worthy of attention. from simply picking you out in the throng of retainers in zapolyarny palace to exchanging curt greetings whenever you serve him tea, your existence slowly took shape in his mind. it was but a mere dot until he molded it into something bigger than yourself: he offered you status in exchange for fucking your pussy raw.
whenever pierro ruts into you ruthlessly, you think of it as his personal goal. the goal of needing to puff up your cunt with his fresh cum once his cock and balls begin to swell. pierro folds you in positions that give him access to your womb, where he dumps fat amount of cum after fat amount of cum. doing so much as pinning his balls to your folds and plugging your hole with his sheer size, pierro is adamant about not spilling a drop. and when your pussy does leak, he takes it upon himself to stuff you with another load double the amount of what you spilled.
some nights while you lay on his chest and with courage flickering like an ember in your heart, the urge to ask him why tips your tongue. but before your curiosity could materialize into verbal words, you would be reminded of where he truly hailed and what the circumstances are of said land. perhaps pierro fucks you with a need to get you pregnant as one way to spread his khaenri’ahn blood.
CAPITANO + womb fucking. in new york’s voice i know his dick big— i know it. size kink.
capitano thinks of you as a battlefield. in truth, you are nothing of the sort. not a wasteland of bodies emitting miasma putrid enough to destroy one’s stomach. it took him weeks chewing over the irony before surmising that his enticement has everything to do with his lusting for blood and annihilation. in his eyes, you are a battlefield he must conquer. unlike pierro who has given you status, capitano offered you strength in exchange for your little puffy pussy taking his huge cock.
don’t be scared, he’d whisper, it’ll fit. pressed against your stomach, no cock of such girth and length could ever fit in someone’s cunt. you feel so little in his arms, extremely so whenever you work your body down his whole length. and once he’s fully sheathed inside, with his fat crown pushing right into your womb and veins thick enough to stimulate, you shiver and sob. capitano is deep in your guts and he knows it, always drawing gentle circles on your back to allay the sting of having stretched your pussy out and to soothe the enfeebling sensation of his cock tip kissing your womb each gentle thrust.
many stories surround him, most of which are bone-chilling. they say capitano is the harbinger of death, and that hiding behind his mask is the skewed face of a monster hell spat out. you admit to believing the hearsay once, but calloused is his skin might be, you have never been touched by hands so gentle. consider it clemency, since you must not forget: capitano can easily break you if he so does will it himself.
DOTTORE + exhibitionism. voyeurism. creampie.
in zapolyarny palace, the name dottore typically sparks caution in the hearts of many. christened as the doctor, he is the paradox of warmth normally seen in someone in the field of medicine. you have done all that you could to be stationed somewhere else other than in his laboratory, but a handmaiden’s fate is as pliant as clay in the hands of those with power. therefore, when he offered you wisdom, all you could do was give him the same. wisdom that is through letting dottore’s segments completely fuck you witless in front of him.
he likes observing your face contorting with lewdness. watching drool racing down your chin, tits bouncing as one of his segments drills his cock into you from the back. there’s nothing more gratifying than biting your lips with your eyes rolling heavenward while your pussy sucks in cock after cock. he enjoys the sounds you make but loves popping his cock down your throat when your screams become too noisy for his liking. but when you come undone by having been fucked until your legs are shaking with thick amounts of cum spilling from your cunt, dottore finds himself admiring nothing else but the image before him.
he wouldn’t have thought that his sexual fantasies could be sated without venturing out to the nearest brothel. for that, he bestows you a chance to ask him two questions every time he fucks you. it is a deal sealed months ago that has benefited both parties involved. and dottore loves to keep things as it is. he’d continue doing so as long as you wouldn’t ask questions at the cost of your precious, precious life. it does not matter how much dottore adores you, he would never think twice.
PANTALONE + predator and prey dynamics. dubious content. nasty. he rubs your asshole. i’m sorry i was so horny while writing his part. creampie. drool. unprotected.
possessing mora enough to buy a whole region makes a man forthright in his intentions, be it pure or soiled with nothing but personal gain. because in the face of money, even the most deviant minds and sickest of hearts appear gilded. you have been proven of the warped reality when letters from your family burst forth in your chamber. each parchment contains fervent gratitude for a name that turned your blood gelid. mr. pantalone is a very kind man, indeed. please do not forget to thank him for the year’s worth of food he supplied us.
the first time you thanked him, pantalone fucked your pussy until the hole was gaping, as though asking for more. he completely owned you: mind, body, and soul. he pistoled his cock deep in your guts for hours, with his eyes rolling back to his skull and his cheeks tinted pink. at one point he almost cried overstimulating his cock tip by kissing your cervix and squirting bouts of cum in your womb. you’ve found out that he particularly prefers when you bounce on his thick shaft, squelching him dry while he gropes your tits and licks your nipples until his mouth is spilling out saliva. sometimes he would rub your asshole as you come around his cock, because he revels whenever your pussy pulses around his girth to milk his balls sapped of cum.
as a man with unparalleled wealth, pantalone sure likes to count. he’s skilled at keeping scores, striking a line on your inner thigh with a glaring ink for every round where he leaves your cunt cum-filled. with each line equivalent to ten million mora. you’d enter pantalone’s chamber every week as a handmaiden, then come out a wealthy one— albeit powerless. regardless of how blinding mora is, it must not hide the truth from you: pantalone, the richest man of all, can take your opulence just as easily as he gave it.
CHILDE + mindbreak. protected sex. condom used. childe is feral. drool.
childe, the 11th of the harbingers, is appreciated by many if not all. an unusual sight in zapolyarny palace, yet the warmest one. he is a glorious warrior, especially when wielding his weapon. a sight worthy of awe, for he moves with precision and speed that are not of this world. owning aberrant strength, childe is meant for blood and glory. and he evinces it all by providing you security whenever you prove just how formidable of a harbinger he is behind closed doors.
drool on the pillows, hands barely hanging on to the sheets, with your mind spinning after hours and hours of childe drilling his cock into you until your stomach flattens on the bed. he pounds your pussy vehemently, shifting positions every time to abuse your sensitive spots. feet over his shoulders, knees against your chest, missionary, name it all. he’ll fuck you in ten different positions each night to break your sanity. and every time he slides his cock out of your wet cunt with his fat and heavy cum pulling the rubber down his twitching shaft, he ties the condom around your legs as proof of his strength.
what makes a warrior is his stamina, and childe would do anything to prove that he’s a formidable one. be it through fighting or fucking, he has yet to fail in either of those aspects. he has dominated you more than once. it is you who willingly walked in on his life like a vulnerable mouse sauntering to a viper’s maw. you have no one else but yourself to blame for the venom in your veins.
SCARAMOUCHE + voyeurism. perv!scaramouche.
scaramouche is his name and he’s the most enigmatic of all. some whispers say that it is merely a moniker to conceal his identity. to bury his past, to birth him anew. vexed with more than half of the zapolyarny palace, the quiet places and shadows are his companions. you think he hates you, too, for none could be spared from scaramouche’s temper. but unlike everyone else, he has found something quite entertaining in you. regardless of its nature, you have not exactly been favored by the harbinger. he remains truthful to his ill temper no matter the circumstances.
when you part your thighs before him, shaking fingers while playing with your pulsing clit, the way he stares burns at your skin. there is humor in his eyes. as though the way you pump two fingers in your wet and untouched cunt serves as peak amusement for him. perhaps it is, perhaps it is not. scaramouche has mastered the schooling of his expressions, sticking only to that of pure malice even if he has you bared before him. he loves commanding you to touch your cunt with your legs extended wide, or pinch and rub on your clit until you’re shaking at where you sit. sometimes he’d tease and tug at your nipples, but he has never gone further than that. and you fear that he never will.
brewing between you is one crooked relationship. scaramouche has not any need for you other than to satisfy his odd fantasies. he has been forthright from the beginning about his intentions, saying that he merely wants to see for himself what’s so special about a handmaiden like you that has the other harbingers on their knees. all his provocations hold with them a promise, and that perhaps one day, scaramouche will try and seek out the answers for himself. but that day is not today.
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dahliakbs · 2 months
Text
Batfam x Doppleganger! Reader (Part 1)
Synopsis: You secretly live with them but one terrible fever made you blow your cover
Part 2 Masterlist
Living with them was easy.
You'd been there long enough to have studied their mannerisms and speech patterns. Like the way they talked, how they would fidget or how they'd react in certain circumstances.
Like Bruce.
He was one if the easiest to impersonate. He barely spoke, always held a stoic expression and never really was seen around the manor.
Most of the time you'd use his likeness to go wherever you wanted and no one questioned you since... who would question Bruce Wayne?
Dick however was a little tough to do.
What you've gathered from your little study is that Richard was always trying to mold himself into what he thought the person needed to see him as and frankly speaking it was tiring.
Often times using his likeness meant you'd have to put up with his siblings crap to an almost extreme extent and you really couldn't hold out any longer when situations like that happened.
He was also a form that you couldn't use very often since most of the time he'd be in Blüdhaven.
Tim was your go to in any situation since he was either out on CEO business or cooped up in his room.
You'd related to his character alot since being in a house full of vigilantes always meant that you'd have to be alert in most situations if you didn't want to be caught. Which meant that you'd developed a serious case of insomnia.
Whenever they found you as Tim they'd leave you be because most of the time you'd be passed out on a couch or laying in one of the many comfortable beds around the manor.
They knew Tim needed his sleep so they never stuck around long enough to question why he wasn't in his room.
Damian was one form you'd refused to take on.
Most of the time he needed to be at school. Which meant that you could never walk around the house without being questioned as to why you weren't currently at home.
Like that one time Alfred caught you stealing food in the kitchen on a weekday and nearly sent you to school along with the real Damian.
On other occasions you'd never be able to fully keep up his persona and sometimes let a couple things slip.
Like that one time you'd done something uncharacteristically out of place. Like actually laughing at Dick's jokes, something Damian would never do.
Unlike the rest of his siblings Jason was completely out of the question. He was never in the manor and whenever he was he would always be scrutinized for causing trouble do walking around as him would be very inconvenient.
Now you'd never thought the day would come when you'd actually be caught.
You were so alert and vigilant, always making sure to not overstep or do anything that would rise suspicion but sadly that just wasn't enough.
It was a particularly harsh time of year for you, hay fever had kicked in.
Your throat was itchy, you were sneezing left and right and you were all alone the cold damp attic of the manor.
Usually around this time of year you needed to stay low-key, always hiding in the attic and making sure no one saw you.
Being sick would always mess with your ability.
Anytime you tried impersonating anyone it would always turn out weird or in some situations grotesque.
Multiple fingers would sprout onto each hand, random eyeballs would generate in peculiar parts of your body and sometimes you'd generate the wrong amount of hair all over your body. Ending up looking like a character straight out of a big foot.
Sometimes different body parts wouldn't finish generating or would be missing entirely.
Like the stump of your arm would be missing but you'd still have a hand connected to your shoulder.
Maybe you'd generate something more tame like the wrong eye color or your own physical features would show through. (Like freckles, stretch marks or beauty marks)
All in all it was horrible.
So when you realized that your stash of food for the month had run out so quickly you dreaded having to take up on one if their forms.
But alas you had to.
This time you'd taken on the form of Tim Drake, maybe they'd leave you alone if they thought you were their sleep deprived brother.
Sadly the transformation didn't turn out right.
Your eyes were the wrong shade if blue, your nose sitting a bit lower down in your fad and you'd generated several more fingers than necessary.
Even though you'd generated Tim's face your own features somehow shined through leaving a weird mixture of your features and his clashing together.
Seeing yourself like that nearly made you bring up whatever junk food you'd eaten earlier but you'd have to pull through.
Quickly you hopped down from the misplaced wooden board in their ceiling and made your way through the manor. Maybe you'd be lucky to find no one home.
Making your way down to the kitchen was fairly easy which was odd since it was a weekend which meant almost everyone would be home but you disregarded that and instead focused on grabbing things from the pantry.
You'd been so engrossed in your actions that you didn't notice the figure creeping up behind you.
They just stared at you as you continued taking stuff from the pantry.They seem paralyzed at what they were seeing.
When you finally turned around to exit the kitchen you'd frozen immediately.
You didn't know what to say.
The figure in front of you who you'd come to realize was Tim Drake himself had caught you.
....
You'd tried to stay silent and not move, wondering if you stood completely still would you just disappear in his eyes but sadly the sneeze that was bubbling in your chest said otherwise.
The sneeze causing you to shift painfully between the many forms you'd taken on before finally switching back to your normal self.
Well you just significantly screwed yourself.
Before the situation could get any worse you made the first move, choosing to slide past his frozen figure and bolt back to the attic.
Knowing Tim you wouldn't have enough time to get out of here before he'd alerted everyone of your presence in the manor.
Meanwhile in the bat cave
"Guys, I just ran into myself...grabbing food from the kitchen" Tim slowly descended the stairs with a confused expression settling on his tired face.
"You sure you didn't just start hallucinating?" Damian asked.
"No he's right, look at this" Bruce motioned towards the monitor. It seems that he'd been surfing the security camera footage while you'd chosen to look for food.
A video of you hastily walking through the hallways earlier played on the screen.
The fine details of your figure could be seen in the monitor, like the multiple fingers hanging off your palm and the severely different face that resembled Tim to an extent.
Then the monitor switched to another video of you standing in the kitchen, your body was swaying dangerously from side to side as you tried to reach their pantry. It seems you were more sick than you yourself were aware of.
A couple seconds later Tim came into the kitchen followed by you turning around and switching between different members of the family before settling on to what seems to be your real form.
"That's unnerving" Damian commented.
"I know right they had like nine fingers" Tin shuddered at the sight of your hands before noticing Dick quickly leaving the room.
"Where are you going?" He asked.
"To meet our new roommate"
"Shouldn't we get to know them first before you allow then to live here permanently" Tim asked only to be ignored by Dick's quick moving form.
"Shouldn't you be stopping him" Tim turned back to Bruce.
"With father's history I doubt he'd mind adding them to the family" Damian stated.
So I guess welcome to the family?
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dilfartist · 11 months
Text
Realization
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Pairing; Yandere Miguel O’hara x reader
Synopsis; the aftermath of your escape attempt.
Word count; 1.1k
Reader description; Female/GN
TW; yandere themes, dark themes, kidnapping, minor talk of wounds.
Notes; {first part.}
"Are you comfortable?" 
His query provokes annoyance. While, yes, the fluff provided by both the couch and large puffy blankets did satisfy you, you'd never express this to Miguel. Miguel is at your side, clad in a tight white shirt and Grey sweatpants. In his hands are a platter holding a drunk and a plate of breakfast. 
"No." You retort; the way it's spoken is colder than you intended. But why would you care? He deserves every bit of hatred spewed from your lips. 
The current time is eight in the morning, and the last thing on Miguel's today's list is fighting. Especially in your condition. Miguel releases an obstinate short-lived sigh, clearly not giving in to your stubbornness. He moves from your side to your front. Irratedly, you bark his name in an empty threat. "Eat." He persist, his voice losing a bit of the softness he talked with before. 
"I promise I didn't drug it. If that's why you're not eating." 
Ah, yes, you forgot being drugged was a possibility when he handles your food. 
Back when you first got abducted, you understandably were resistant to any form of tenderness. You acted callous. Ignoring Miguel when you didn't require to communicate your needs. Miguel wasn't too appreciative. Nevertheless, he was understanding due to your circumstances, and for a while, he begrudgingly left you alone. One day, Miguel wasn't having the best day; to say the least, his day had been extremely stressful. All he wanted was to be comforted by your touch, and of course, you aren't giving him any, so he sought it. 
You sat at the dining table, eating leftovers from the night before. Miguel entered the shared home, going into the kitchen. Wanting your affection, he forgets about your refutation and awkwardly leans down, puckering his lips to signal a kiss. You simply turn away. Pride wounded, Miguel retreats, angrily storming out of the room, and plops down on the couch. A couple of minutes pass, and you walk out of the kitchen, a glass of soda in hand, and sit across from him. Miguel eyes your beverage with a malevolent idea forming. 
Fortunately, on Miguel's part, you leave for the restroom. In his impulsive state, Miguel quickly departs from the living room to the kitchen. This wasn't the first occasion Miguel thought of paralyzing you with a sedative. On top of the fridge were the pills. He flicks the bottle open, popping two tablets in his calloused palm. He returns to the living room, dropping them into the liquid, and using your straw, he mixes the drink until there's only a slight visible powder at the bottom. 
Miguel rues his decision. Instead of earning your trust, he loses the faith that you had in him. The exact opposite of what he strived to attain. 
Famished and tired of Miguel's whining, you begrudgingly accept the platter. You settle the platter onto your lap. On the plate is French toast, the mixture of butter and syrup creates a brownish-orange color. On the side is cold tea with a handful of ice cubes floating at the top. 
Grabbing the butter knife, you slice the toast creating a rift and allowing the syrup to spill onto the glass plate. Bringing the fork to your mouth, you take a small bite. It tasted...fine. No bitter aftertaste of pills, just regular French toast.  
Miguel intensely observed you, even taking a seat beside you. For someone who truthfully claimed to not have laced your meal, he certainly doesn't make it appear that way. "Do you like it?" He asks nonchalantly. Not wanting to give him credit, you merely respond with an "it's alright," 
Finishing up your meal, you return to watching your show. Miguel gets up, sauntering out of the room. You assume he was returning work calls since he was taking off the week to nurse you back to health. You dismiss it, giving all your engagement to the television. 
Sometime later, you hear heavy footfalls from the hallway. You don't turn to see who it is because it's obviously Miguel. Miguel once again enters the living room, your name falling from his lips immediately. You continue to pay him no mind at all. 
Miguel is quickly agitated, "Look at me, (Name)." You whirl around, giving in. In Miguel's hands again is a tray. this time it holds neither drink nor food, instead medical supplies. 
"No." You absentmindedly mutter, sinking farther into the couch cushion. Miguel approaches you, places the tray aside on the table, snatches the remote out of your hand, and powers off the television. "Come on, lie on your stomach." He commands softly, throwing blankets on the other couch to have the couch bare. 
"No," you repeat like a petulant child whose mother asked them to do something they didn't want to do. 
"Now, (Name). The faster we get this over, the faster you won't have to deal with it the remainder of the day." 
He was right. For once. You shakily sigh, doing as he advised. Miguel takes your place on the couch, peeling your shirt upwards. The contact of cold crisp air against your warm skin makes you shiver. Never have been so interested in the armrest's design. Every stitch, color, and material now is intriguing. 
Miguel prepares the ointments and bandages. Then he unwraps the aged bandages in slow motion, hoping not to foist pain on you. Over a couple of days, Miguel has attended to your wounds on your back, and each time the sight never fails to have his heart sink into his stomach. 
Trailing from your upper back to your lower is three gashes on both sides of your back, parallel to claw marks. The gashes are deep and bloody despite the amount of medication he's applied days prior. Miguel figures they must have been caused by him clutching you when you went tumbling on the concrete. 
Now it's Miguel's turn to take in a quivering breath. 
Miguel brings over a small container holding a clear ointment inside. He dips his finger in, scooping out a good amount. Miguel's thick fingers gently glaze your marks, earning him a whine. As he continues, all that escapes his lips are gently spoken "m'sorry"s or "forgive me, bebé."s 
You want to hate him. Never think of the word forgive in a sentence when it involves him. But you can't; all you can do is forgive him because it's the only thing you can do to improve your situation. A situation you'll never escape. 
You have to forgive him, but never will you forget. Even if you wanted to, the marks on your back will always be a reminder. 
2K notes · View notes
reiding-writing · 3 months
Note
omg, part two for roommates? It was so good
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ROOMMATES [PART TWO]
/ˈɹu(m)ˌmeɪt/ /part one/
when you and spencer share a room together on a case, you find yourself a little out of character at the revelation you'll have to share a bed with him.
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WARNINGS: cold but not antagonistic reader
spencer reid x cold!reader || fluff?? || 1.4k || series masterlist!!
a/n: is this too much cold!reader back to back? maybe, but this is my blog so i make the rules love yall
main masterlist!!
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You woke up cold, your fingers unwelcome against the skin of your cheeks as they spread the stark chilliness that your extremities are feeling over your eyelids.
Whilst not entirely surprising, being so cold in a hotel room that was meant to be built for negative temperatures felt a little too unlikely to be true with no extraneous variables.
You found yours almost immediately, you were only half-covered in the bedsheets, the rest balled up around Spencer as he laid with his back to you.
You glanced around in the dim light, trying to locate your lost part of the blanket. But it was tightly wound around Spencer, making it clear that reclaiming your portion without waking him would be an impossible task.
You sighed softly, trying to think of a solution that wouldn’t involve waking him up, but the more you thought about it, the less feasible it seemed.
Frustrated, you tried to tug at the blanket gently, hoping against the odds that you could retrieve some of it without disturbing him. To no surprise whatsoever, Spencer stirred, turning to face you with sleepy eyes.
“Mmm… what time is it?” he mumbled, his voice heavy with sleep.
“Early, go back to sleep,” you whispered, trying to keep your voice steady under the softness of his gaze. “And stop hogging the sheets.”
Spencer quickly let go of the blanket, allowing you to take hold of it. “Sorry,” he murmured before turning back around and falling back asleep almost immediately.
You stared at him for a moment, surprised by how easily he‘d managed to fall back to sleep. But then again, it was Spencer. He was a different breed of person.
Wrapping the blanket around yourself, you laid back down and tried to get some more sleep. But as you watched Spencer sleeping peacefully with his back to you, you couldn’t help but feel a strange warmth spreading in your chest.
Despite the cold and the uncomfortable lump in the mattress, you found yourself on the verge of smiling against the sheets pulled up to your nose.
But you quickly banish the thought, reminding yourself that this was just a one-time thing.
A necessity due to circumstances. Nothing more.
You close your eyes, letting sleep take over once again.
The comfort of sleep eludes you, however, your mind plagued by the unconscious Spencer that lay not too far from you. You don’t know why it was now that you were having such an issue with falling asleep in his presence. You'd managed to bury the thought earlier, why could you do it now?
The silence of the room seemed to only amplify everything rampaging through your mind, and you turn to your other side, your back to Spencer as you try to clear your mind.
The sound of his soft breathing lulls you, a comforting rhythm in the otherwise silent room, and you feel yourself starting to drift off, the day's exhaustion catching up to you.
However, just as you're about to succumb to sleep, you feel a shift in the bed.
Spencer's moving.
His movements are slow, sluggish with sleep, and before you can process it, you feel his arm drape over your side, his body pressing against your back.
The surprise of his touch jolts you awake and you freeze completely, unsure of what to do. His breath fans against the back of your neck, a warm contrast to the cool air of the room.
You ponder your options. Should you move and risk waking him? Should you stay put and pretend to be asleep? If he woke up like this you know that he’d spiral into a pit of embarrassment and you’re not sure that you want to deal with that.
It also wasn’t the worst position, but that’s something that your mind would even let you consider.
You opt for the latter of the two options, deciding not to disrupt his sleep.
Your heart pounds in your chest, the rhythm deafening in your ears as you will yourself to just fall asleep and relieve yourself of the torture you’re enduring. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts and after what feels like an eternity, your body relaxes and you slowly drift back to sleep, Spencer's arm a comforting weight around you.
When you wake up the next morning, the events of the night feel like a distant dream. Spencer is already awake, sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to you as he speeds through the pages of a novel in his lap.
The memory of his arm around you sends a warm flush through your body, although the memory is so distant you can’t even really be sure it was real. You were half asleep after all.
The fact that Spencer seemed so relaxed also supports your theory that it might’ve been a sleep-induced hallucination. There was no way he’d be so casual if he’d known he’d done that.
But it felt too real to have not have happened.
As you rise from the bed, you make a silent vow to yourself. This was a one-time thing. It wouldn't happen again. You wouldn't let it.
But as you catch Spencer's eye and he gives you a sleepy smile, you can't help but wonder if that's a promise you can actually keep.
“Good morning, how did you sleep?” He closes the book with a small ‘thud’ sound, smiling half-awkwardly in your direction.
It takes you a second to process that he’s speaking to you, and he takes your silence as a sign that you’re still mad at him for taking the sheets.
“I’m sorry for what happened last night,”
Your eyes snap to his at his apology. So he did remember clinging to you like a koala then.
“I move a lot in my sleep, so I must’ve accidentally pulled all of the sheets in my direction,”
Nevermind.
“It’s fine Reid.” The grogginess still lacing your tone doesn’t do any help in making you sound genuinely okay with what had happened, nor does the narrowing of your eyes under the morning light that makes you look like you’re intentionally staring daggers into his forehead.
“Okay- Sorry-” He hated how intimidated he was by you sometimes, especially considering he knew you weren’t trying to be intimidating in the moment.
You were just half-asleep and sensitive to the bright lights, and yet you still managed to make him feel like one wrong word would be like hand-writing his death certificate.
God only knows what he would be thinking if he knew he’d spent half the night with his chest to your back.
“Stop apologising, I said it was fine,” You rub your eyes with your fingers, the way you pinch your nose bridge again serving to make you look way more angry than you actually were and sending Spencer down another internal-panic at the idea of you secretly being annoyed with him.
“Right, sor-” He stops himself halfway through his sentence, pressing his lips into a tight line with a short nod. “Uhm, Hotch said to meet down in the lobby in half an hour,”
You exhale heavily as you drag your palm down your face, humming absently as Spencer relay’s Hotch’s order to you.
You get out of the bed with a stretch and a yawn, and Spencer thinks it might be the most ‘human’ he’s ever seen you be — probably because he couldn’t see your expression with your back turned to him.
“I’m going to change,” You announce your departure to the shared bathroom as you grab your clothes for the day from your bag, giving him ample opportunity to stop you if he wanted to use the bathroom for something before you did. You knew he wouldn’t either way.
“Alright,” He gives you a slightly nervous nod as you shut the door behind you, messing with the leather spine of the book in his hands.
The first thing you do once you’ve got your privacy is soak your face in cold water, hoping that it’ll wash away the memory of how Spencer’s arm felt around your waist with your sweat.
But he didn’t know that. And you weren’t planning on telling him anytime soon.
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ivesambrose · 4 months
Text
𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔩𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔨 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𐙚
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Its been a rather cold month so I decided to channel something warm to look forward to 🤍
To book a personal reading with me DM or email me at [email protected] with your name, date of birth and query
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Picture 1
You may have been dealing with challenging situations or people who are quick to throw jabs at you or throw a wrench in your plans. This may have led you to question your own intuition and potential making you scared and hesitant to take a step forward or take any risks in the fear of failure. You'll realize that their scattered mindset and opinions aren't supposed to be your core beliefs. You're not supposed to take advice from people whose life you don't see yourself living. Rather, you should focus on what makes you bloom from within.
You can look forward to a shift in belief system that will in turn change your entire life and reality for the better.
You can also look forward to something that excites you in the form of a rewarding opportunity (especially in terms of career for most of you) that you have been wishing for or were being patient for the longest time.
You can look forward to something valuable that will grow with time and won't be a fleeting thing. You'll be able to trust your intuition and judgement again. You'll be receiving nurturing and quality connections in your life as well. People who care and support you and your dreams.
All of this comes at the small cost of slowly letting go of your self sabotaging tendencies.
Timing: Coming 21 days
Picture 2
You've recently fathomed the power of your thoughts and words and how time and circumstances are irrelevant when it comes to them materalizing. This has been happening a lot but in the past you have questioned them but now you've grown more adamant, strict and assertive. You've learnt to stand your ground. You want to fully step into your power more than anything and allow no one not even yourself to stand in your way.
You can certainly look forward to a completion and celebration. Your labour has been steady and your harvest will be abundant. Enjoy your prosperity. You'll also be embarking on a new journey in your life, ideas and outlook will expand, no one will be able to confine you.
There's a lot of passion coming your way, it will allow you to overcome any fear you may face.
That long awaited renewed hope, clarity and peace is finally yours. You can actually see your path ahead, the destination that you'll reach, so you'll choose to embrace and enjoy your journey.
You can also look forward to a physical glow up, being appreciated, being proud of yourself and your achievements. Shedding guilt. As well as connecting with people or existing friends who feel like your tribe, with whom you don't have to mask your true self to be loved and accepted.
Timings : coming 14 days, stay loyal to your end goals. (September for some of you too)
Picture 3
You can see the dots connecting in your life, maybe you don't know how exactly, you may not have the outline laid out in front of you but when you aren't overthinking it, you realize how one thing leads to another and gain momentum. Things aren't exactly as a standstill as you think. You're extremely disciplined and focused, so whatever you have set sights on is bound to happen or be yours.
You may not realize how powerful your esoteric gifts are but you will. You can look forward to your visions, dreams, written words actually coming true as though it were a prophecy. Be mindful of the people you share your wisdom and insights with. I do see you aren't as happy with your current social circle or people you interact with. You trust very few and you sometimes feel very isolated. But you excellent foresight and there's always a silver lining in your circumstances.
Life will begin to change as the days get warmer and longer.
There's so much beauty in you, you don't even realize that you're a muse to many or are about to be. You might go into hiding only to rise from the ashes as something wild and free. The transformation that you seek is ongoing and something you know is inevitable. Celebrate it when time comes or start from today itself.
Timings: Coming 12 days, summer season (July and August is standing out for some of you as well)
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triangular-eye · 5 months
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astrology observations
🌟🪐🌘
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- aquarius ascendants are the type of people you can never figure out. if you think you have, they are mirroring you. these people feel limited when being put in a box, they don’t like to be perceived in a specific way or have labels put upon them.
- libra moons tend to give out a lot of hot and cold behaviour, especially if they feel trapped or are in a period of indecision.
- pisces sun people are extremely emotionally stable and know how to handle an emotionally tense situation. they welcome all the feelings and recognise them one by one, then introduce logic. they like to problem solve emotionally tense situations.
- people with asteroid child (4580) on a close conjuct with their sun are people who always have the ‘childish joy for life’. they perceive life through the lens of fun and tend to have a natural tendency to detach from everything they’re faced with. they might carry some deep trauma from their childhood and tend to never ‘properly mature’.
- aries ascendants tend to always have a lot of energy in social situations, natural extroverts if you may.
- taurus moons feel loved when gifted money or food. i know someone with this placement that told me that they don’t care about the person they’re dating, as long as they are financially benefiting from this connection.
- those with asteroid wisdom (8402) landing in their 12th house hold a lot of answers in their subconscious. they feel as though their own memory blocks them from accessing the answers they need, and they may need to look into their past lives for answers.
- uranus retrograde natives tend to feel as though whenever something good is going on in their lives, it will crumble soon. they have a constant chronic uncertainty about the near future and the temperaments of the energies, may struggle with general anxiety.
- scorpio moon natives tend to take matters into their own hands whenever faced with tension in a connection, they ‘destruct’ the situation and try to get to the bottom of what created the uncertainty (the tower card). they want to make sure whatever is being built, is being built on a very strong foundation.
- natives with sun in opposition to the moon in their charts struggle to access their emotions when they are fully feeling like themselves. they feel as though their emotions are what hold them back from achieving their best self (unfortunately:’( u guys need a hug)
- taurus suns tend to have a larger belly or a larger appetite, might be very fertile (the empress card - her being pregnant)
- natives with pluto retrograde tend to have to take matters into their own hands in regards to fixing family dynamics. “the family fixer”, the “eldest daughter” stereotype, a lot of shadow work and trauma healing, feeling victimised in life and with circumstances.
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piracytheorist · 4 months
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The Briar Siblings' Lies
It's very interesting that in the family of lies and secrets, the lies of the Briar siblings are included, and I'm pretty sure that will play a role whenever they find out about each other.
I expect Yor to be heartbroken and angry at Loid when she'll find out his lies, but I'd also expect her to be heartbroken and disappointed when she finds out how much Yuri lied to her.
Yor might have kept her own very dangerous secrets, but there are huge differences in their circumstances.
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Yor took up her assassin gig when she was just a teenager, orphaned and with a little brother to take care of. Amidst the cold war brewing, there would be various criminal organizations looking for people to drag in, and a poor, desperate, kind, and almost supernaturally strong teenage girl was the perfect recruit for Garden.
Whether this is Garden's initiative or not, Yor has a strong determination to kill her targets as quickly and as painlessly as possible, along with avoiding unnecessary bloodshed. She has studied human anatomy specifically for this very reason, to be able to kill her victims with mercy. She's realistic about the situations she's in, but if talking things through is even a tiny bit possible, she'll give it a try.
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Though her morals are slightly skewed for the average civilian - it's understandable to kill someone in self defense, but her main targets are situations where she plays judge, jury and executioner - she's still retained a lot of her humanity that allows her to be a kind person and a caring sister, mother and wife.
And then you have Yuri.
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Yuri fell victim to a more sinister kind of indoctrination - extremism and bigotry. Having grown up in poverty caused by the war and the deaths of his parents, and having an overwhelming wish to protect his sister, he was the perfect target for Ostania's nationalistic propaganda.
But the tragic background leading up to this choice and the want to protect his family is where his similarities with Yor's case end.
Yuri wasn't left with no other choices. Yor was already supporting him financially when he started working for the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and that was a job that he could stay at and be independent. He was older than Yor was when she became an assassin. I can assume that some underhanded methods were used to lead him into the duties of the SSS, but even so Yuri had more control of the situation, more choices to choose from, and more information at hand. It's directly opposite to Yor's circumstances.
Yuri tortures people. The SSS specifically want him, despite his young age and lack of experience, exactly because he won't hold anything back, even when it makes him feel conflicted.
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The SSS may be taking advantage of the ease with which he tortures people, but it's still something Yuri willingly participates in - and again, considering the fame of the SSS among civilians, it's almost certain Yuri knew what he was getting into. He's giving up his own humanity, going down a path of "us vs. them" and while Yor plays judge on who gets to live, Yuri plays judge on who gets to be treated like a human being.
While two similarly dangerous and demanding professions, and (at least according to what Franky says) following the same government's orders, it's two highly different cases. I think Yuri will be mostly horrified to learn what Yor went through for his sake, but Yor will be very understandably heartbroken. Yuri could understand that Yor had no other choice, but Yor will know that Yuri had all the best choices right in front of him, and yet he chose this.
And it's why I believe this is the revelation that will hurt Yor more. She could explain Twilight's lies by the fact that they didn't know each other before, she could explain Anya's secrets by her young age and innocence, but there will be very little for Yuri to stand on - and the thing is, Yuri knows that. He knows that what he's chosen to become isn't what Yor raised him to be.
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Currently he may be seeing himself as a martyr for his cause, that he needed to potentially break his sister's heart in order to protect her and "the country she lives in". He'd rather have her feeling heartbroken and betrayed by him than with her life and safety in danger. He'd rather her hate him than get hurt.
How will it hit him when he realizes she's already been doing the same for him, and has already been endangering her life for over a decade for not only his sake, but for the world in general too? When he realizes all the work he's been doing to protect her was in vain because she has been walking into danger herself all along?
It's a really interesting dynamic, because the revelation could either break them or make them. They both have a very heartwarming background together, they both love each other deeply, but it's a trial they'll both have to go through at some point.
(Anime only fan here, don't spoil me for the manga)
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marikuchanxo · 5 months
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Mistakes Are Better Fixed
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Characters: Husband!Nanami Kento x F!Reader
Word Count: 2.4k~
CW: Angst, fluff, hurt reader, pet names.
Author's note: Hello! This is my first ever writing :). Please feel free to leave your opinion/recommendation after you read. Special thanks to @pseudowho who helped me writing it.
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Fighting. A word that isn’t found in your relationship dictionary with your husband Nanami Kento. Most of the time you and him would have meaningful and calm conversations. Of course, like any couple, you would have some arguments here and there; due to different opinions or making important decisions. But this time, it isn’t like any before. 
It is Sunday afternoon, and you find yourself in an extremely heated fight with Nanami. Heck, you don’t even remember what got you both into this situation. Your heart is exhausted from all the arguing. “JUST LISTEN TO ME FOR ONCE!!” 
Nanami shouts at you with such a furious face that you have never seen on him before. You, on the other hand, petrified, and trapped between him and the wall facing your back. Your eyes swell up with tears facing the floor; you just can’t keep looking at him with such frightening features. Nanami immediately snaps out of his stance, seeing tears running down your flushed face. Those tears are the result of his own actions. Since day one of your marriage, he vowed and promised you that he would never do something that won’t be in your favour. And now he broke that promise.
“Sweetheart, I…” You don’t let him continue with his words as you take your crying self away from him to the bathroom. He follows you down the hallway, so you rush and lock yourself inside.
“Love, please open the door. Let me talk to you.” 
Nanami knocks on the door softly so as not to startle you anymore. On the other side of the door, you slide your back against it and cry your heart out. Sobs and whimpers are all he can hear from you, and his heart aches for each one of them. 
“I will be waiting for you outside.” He gently whispers to you from behind the door. Nanami slips himself to the ground, his face in his palms; ashamed of what he’s done.
After an hour or so, you get calmer and collected. Shivering from the cold floor beneath you, you pick up yourself to take a quick shower and get out of the bathroom. You have decided to leave afterwards to pick a quick bite and then spend the rest of the day at Shoko’s. Your tummy is rumbling with hunger already as you didn’t get the chance to make breakfast; you started your day with that heated fight. Great. At the same time, as Nanami hears the shower turning on, he sighs gladly that you are fine. He gets up, looking forward to making it up with you. When you are done and open up the door, you find your husband standing before you. Anticipation is all over his face, replacing the horror you witnessed before. He reaches out for your hand, speaking politely.
“Please, let me fix this..”
“Nanami, I need my space for the time being. I am going to Shoko. I don’t know when I will be back.”
You leave his hand hanging in the air, looking away as you are speaking. You head to your shared bedroom to change your clothes and head outside. Nanami realises that you are still mad at him, which you have every right to be, when you called him by his last name. In better circumstances, you call him Kento or Ken. His beloved wife is the only person he allows to call him by his first name, as an element of intimacy between the both of you. He surrenders to your decision to give you some needed space. 
As you change into comfy sweatpants and jumper, you text Shoko that you’re coming to her house. She welcomes you right away. It isn’t your first time to stay over; both of you consider your homes as each other's way before meeting Nanami. You comb and braid your long hair before heading out of the bedroom. You notice Nanami sitting on the couch, hands in his lap. He gets on his feet and his eyes shift to you when he senses your presence.
“I am leaving.” As you reach the door to leave, Nanami calls for you to stay but you don’t answer him.
The moment you get inside your car, texts start flooding your phone. You know it is your husband because you set this special ringtone for him.
Kento 💙: Sweetheart, please come back. I was out of my mind when I shouted at you, I shouldn’t have done that.
Kento 💙: I deeply apologise for my awful action.
Kento 💙: Please text me when you arrive at Shoko’s.
Kento 💙: Home isn’t the same without you here.
You check these messages from the notifications bar before you start driving. You are still not ready to talk to him. 
When you arrive at Shoko’s house and sees you, she senses your gloomy vibes. Asking if something is wrong, you immediately start crying. She brings you into her soothing hug, giving you all the time you need to calm down. When you start mentioning what happened, she is shocked that Nanami is the one who hurt you. Shoko knows how special you are to him that he wouldn’t ever be on the list of people who could do you harm. She tries to calm you as much as she can when her phone rings.
“It is Nanami.” Before she responds to his call, you try to muffle your sobs.
“Hey, Nanami. Yes, she is here. She is alright, don't worry. Umm, give me a second.” She mutes the call and tells you that he wants to talk to you. Shaking your head, you reject his request.
“I am sorry, Nanami, she doesn’t want to talk right now. Sure, no problem. Okay, bye.”
After that call, you go to the bathroom to freshen up while Shoko makes some hot tea. As you settle down and check your phone, you notice more texts from Nanami.
Kento 💙: Did you arrive at Shoko’s? Please let me know.
Kento 💙: Are you okay? Did you grab something to eat on the way? I know you skipped breakfast because of me.
Kento 💙: Darling, I miss you. Alot.
Again, you ignore his texts. You wish you could reply to him, but your heart is still grieving. 
When Shoko comes back with the tea, you feel a bit soothed. As a life-long friend, she knows that tea is always the solution for any problem you have. Taking your first sip, you tell her of what had happened in more detail, you apologise for barging in suddenly, and ask her if you can spend the night here. Shoko happily welcomes you again. Giving her a small grin, you thank her, feeling blessed for having such a great friend in your life. 
The night comes in, you just had dinner with Shoko. The TV is switched on some random channel, spending some quiet time with her. You haven't heard from your husband since the last texts he sent you. You find worry starts seeping to your heart, but your mind refuses to contact him. Suddenly, the doorbell rings. You look at Shoko as if asking are you waiting for someone? She shrugs No and goes to check the door anyway. As she opens it, Shoko finds Kento in front of her. He is not in his best looks as sadness appears to take a toll on him.
“Good evening, Shoko.”
“Hey, Nanami. Please come in.”
“Thank you. I won't be here for long. I just want to check on her.”
“Definitely.”
Shoko leaves Nanami with an assuring grin. She goes back to you in the living room to inform you of the visitor. 
“Nanami is here. He wants to check on you.”
“Didn’t he call and you told him I am okay? He knows I am spending the night here.”
“Dear, Nanami is your husband and he would do his absolute best to win you back and you know that. I haven’t seen you acting like this before towards him.”
“Because he never shouted at me before! Kento knows I have a traumatic past and I don’t want to go through it again.”
Uttered faintly, you bring your knees to your chest and hug yourself.
“I am not in a good state yet to see him, Shoko. I am sorry…”
Defeated, Shoko sighs and gives your back a soft pat. She understands what you mean but she wishes this quarrel would be resolved sooner than later. 
Kento hears footsteps coming to him, hoping they are yours. To his dismay, it is Shoko empty handed.
“I am sorry, Nanami. I tried my best but she is stubborn.”
“I understand. My apologies for coming this late at night. I shall get going.”
“Thanks, Nanami. Good night.”
With a sinking heart, Nanami retreats to your shared home. He knew you wouldn’t come back with him, but the last thing he wanted to see before going to sleep is his loving wife’s face. This is the first night he spends without you safe and sound in his arms.
“Rise and shine, Missy. Breakfast is ready.”
“Good morning to you too.” You reply in a raspy voice.
It is the next morning and Shoko bursts into the bedroom to wake you up. Sunshine flows through the curtains illuminating the whole area. You stretch out of the bed after a good night’s sleep; much better and recharged.
As you reach the kitchen table, you find delicious pastries from your favourite cafe. Cheddar and Turkey filled croissants, raspberry tarte and much more.
“Nanami passed by and brought them. You were still asleep and he didn’t want me to wake you up.”
Your cheeks turn pink at the mention of his name. You find yourself bashful and start missing him already.
“I think I will text him after I am done.” “You better do it, Mrs. Kento.”
“Shoko!!” She teases you with a wink.
True to your words, you grab your phone after finishing breakfast to thank Kento. Unlocking the phone, his texts are the first thing you notice.
Kento 💙: Good morning, sweetheart. I brought you your favourite breakfast. Please eat well.
Kento 💙: I miss you, so much. Home isn’t the same without you.
Kento 💙: I hope I can see you soon.
Your heart swells with love from his texts. You do miss him too, but a bit shy to tell him so. Taking a picture of the empty pastry boxes, you text him a “Thank you 💖” message. Kento immediately replies.
Kento 💙: I am glad you liked them. Have a good day, love.
Later on, you and Shoko decided to spend the day at the nearby park. The weather is warm and sunny; too good to be wasted. You pack some snacks, drinks, along with a light lunch. You also bring UNO, your favourite card game. As you both arrive at the park, you pick a good spot beside this big tree. The park is quiet today, it is Monday after all. The area surrounding you is full of greenery, pretty flowers flowing from the bushes, white butterflies dancing around them, and birds chirping on tree branches. You sigh in content, smiling at Shoko being grateful for making such a good decision. 
“I see you in a good mood.” Shoko smirks at you.
“That’s a fact, thankfully.” Grinning at Shoko, you take out the UNO pack to start playing with her. Time passes by when you are having a good time. After five matches, both of you get tired and hungry. It is almost five when you are unpacking your lunches. 
“Have you decided on anything?” Shoko asks as she takes a bite from her sandwich.
“I think I am going home tonight. I can’t leave Kento all this time by himself.”
“Ohhh, someone is homesick after all.” She teases you.
“I do miss him, Shoko. Whatever happens between us, it won’t stop me from loving him and fixing things together.”
“Alright, alright, Missy. Eat up while it is still fresh.”
You nod at her and start eating while you enjoy the scenery. After a while, your mind wanders, lost in thought about Kento. 
“Is something wrong?” Shoko asks as she is waving her hand, seeing you lost in thought.
“No, it is just that I haven’t heard from Kento since morning. I wonder if he is alright.” Worry starts showing on your face.
“Speaking of which, turn around to find out.” Shoko chuckles.
“What are you talking about, Shoko?” 
Confused, you do turn around to find your blonde husband from a distance walking towards you, in his beige suit and blue shirt, looking fine as always, hiding something behind his back. As he approaches with a soft smile, you get up on your feet to greet him. You hold your hands to your chest, your beating heart is dancing with happiness as he reaches you.
“Hello, darling.” Kento softly speaks as he caresses your cheek.
“Hello, Kento.” You reply blissfully, leaning into his touch.
“I brought you this. Please accept my apology.” 
From behind his back, he gives you a big bouquet of pretty white tulips, your favourite kind of flowers. 
“Oh my god, Kento. You really didn’t have to.” 
You joyfully receive them, holding them dearly in your embrace.
“That’s the least I can do to you, love. I would bring the whole world to you if I could.” 
He is glad that you accepted his apology. Sighing in content, as he holds your hand into his, he is sure of your answer when he asks, “Will you come home with me?” “Yes, Kento. Let’s go home together.”
Giggling to each other, you hear Shoko clapping at this happy ending.
“Well, well, well. The two love birds are finally back together.” 
Wiping her fake tears, you and Kento laugh at her sense of humour. Kento thanks her for taking care of you, and you give her a big hug for being such a great friend. You help her pack everything back, but this time, you are going back home with Kento.
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hadesrise · 1 year
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heart of gold, heart of cold.
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summary ➳ you’re much more than just the nicest boy in southside chicago
pairings ➳ ian gallagher x male reader x mickey milkovich
warnings ➳ fluff, foul language, violence, soft boy!reader, homophobia, established polyamorous relationship, absolute badassery lol, mentions of sex, a little apathy, small mention of blood, good but actually not trope, some mental issues
author’s note ➳ haven’t watched shameless, only gallavich scenes and few other moments. my anger issues can’t handle watching all of that. which is why none of my writing of them’s gonna be accurate to the timeline of the series.
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Ian and Mickey couldn’t remember the time you were ever mean to anyone even before meeting you, had never even heard of your name being thrown around without it being extremely positive. Everyone had to say everything about you, which is understandable, considering you were definitely the odd type to be in southside Chicago — this place was full of shit with robbery being nonchalantly committed, guns shooting off in different areas, bunch of unconvicted pedophiles walking around, and teenagers high on whatever fucking heavy drugs they first could touch, while you’re out there, helping whoever you think might need help and genuinely being nice to even the worst fucking thugs you would ever meet.
It’s questionable, how someone could be in southside and grow up perfectly sane and not bottled up with any issues or anger.
You’ve always been the talk around the neighborhood, how the (L/n) kid helped some randos again, how you talked to them with the nicest personality and utmost respect, how you smile at anyone who passes by whenever you make eye contact with them, how you were calm in dealing with a situation most people would get frustrated at; just about anything positive. It wasn’t difficult for both Ian and Mickey to fall for you as much as they fell for each other. You were like a single flower blooming in the middle of a garden that a person would come back to just to see your beauty; something about your softness and kind personality struck a core into both of their hearts.
They never had someone like you in their life. A calm, soothing, comforting presence, like the warm sun in the morning. An accepting, welcoming presence, like the mother earth. You’ve always been gentle with them — not something they’re used to, considering the type of household they grew up in — always checking in, making sure they’re okay even if they push you away, taking care of them.
You’re one of the first person Ian came out to other than his family, because he knew you’d never judge. Mickey was rather an asshole in your first meet, nearly beating you up, but the way you didn’t snark or your nice demeanor didn’t change no matter what insults he threw at you made him hesitant, which never happened with Milkovich’s.
When they started sleeping together, you caught on it quickly before anyone else ever did and kept it a secret the entire time, knowing the personal problems they had to deal with; Ian and Mickey only found out you knew when you stopped Terry from making Mickey have sex with Svetlana by just walking in on the interaction. The near innocence in your eyes as you tilted your head slightly to the side, just staring at Terry until he grew uncomfortable and rushed off. He could never stand being near to you, especially with how holier than thou you were. It wasn’t actually an accident to walk in, but they don’t know that.
Despite the awkward circumstances, you were calm and paid Svetlana a good amount before getting both of them dressed and taking care of them, even though they didn’t have to be taken cared of. Your gentleness with them that time really caused something to burst within their chest, the same feeling they were starting to develop towards each other. The acceptance, the comfort, the gentleness. Everything about you felt magical — you felt magical.
Even after Ian and Mickey figured out their shit together, officially came out, figured out their shit together again that both of them liked you, flirted with you and won you over, and officially came out again to their family as polyamorous couple, they had never seen you be a dick. Sure, you swore a lot sometimes when you drop something or miss something, but never towards anyone. They never saw you doing the typical southside thing, being rebellious, smoking cigarettes, drinking alcohol, doing drugs or shit.
You’re always nice — and it’s supposed to be a good thing, but it also gets a lot concerning, especially when some dumb fucking guy punched you in the face for mistaking you as someone who slept with his girlfriend and you had the audacity to forgive him when he apologized, making Mickey nearly wanting to strangle you right then and there.
“Why the fuck did you forgive him?” Mickey snarls and shuts the fridge door close, ice pack in hand as he throws it to Ian, who immediately began pressing it to your cheek that was beginning to form a bruise.
You shrugged, “He just mistook me for someone else.”
“Yeah, and fucking punched you in the face without asking first who the fuck you are.” Mickey retorted, giving you a death glare. He moves around to stand beside you on the opposite side of Ian.
You were sitting on the counter facing the dining table where Fiona, Lip, Liam, Carl, Debbie, Sandy, Mandy, and Franny were, all contorting worried look since you’re the nicest and you having a single bruise means when the people you helped before sees it they’re gonna flip over and bury the guy ten feet under while still breathing. Everyone knew you, and you’re literally the holiest within southside, so they naturally hated when someone messed with you.
Your hand shoots up to rub his arm gently, warm look in your eyes as your soft voice speaks to comfort him. “Calm down, Mick. Let it go, I’m fine.” You smile softly, “It was just a little mistake. Everyone makes mistakes.”
Mickey frowns, still angry yet definitely calm now that you’re giving him comfort. “You’re too fucking nice, it’s making me sick.”
You chuckled, grabbing the ice pack from Ian to press it on your cheek yourself. You pull Ian to kiss him on the cheek before doing the same to Mickey, knowing it will help tone down their anger. “At least I have my own guard dogs.” You joke, earning a snicker from the group.
“Haha, very funny.” Mickey sarcastically replies.
Ian sighs, “(Y/n), I think Mickey’s right though. You’re too nice, maybe a bit much. Even to Frank and Terry.” He agreed with his other boyfriend, who puts his hands up in a gesture of i told you so.
You tilted your head, still smiling. “Frank’s your father and Terry’s Mickey’s father. No matter how horrible they are, I don’t think I could treat them any differently from how I treat others.” Shrugging, you ignored both of your boyfriends’ groan and sipped on the orange juice resting on your side.
“What’s up with you treating everyone equally and being unnaturally nice to even someone who doesn’t deserve it?” Fiona asked, genuinely confused with her brows furrowed together and crease forming on her forehead. “You were even nice with Monica.”
You bit the inside of your cheek, thinking for a while.
You could tell them what was really going on, but it would be too much to dump it on them all of a sudden. Being nice and having a lot of patience is a lot difficult, but you learned to, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to survive. It’s a survival skill that you had to adapt to; be nice and you get everything you want. A little... useful tactic that you taught yourself, though it’s more than that.
Deciding against telling them, because it’ll get out when it gets out, you simply gave her a tight-lipped smile and shrugged. “I like spreading dumb kindness. I think it helps people who deals with mental health issues that their relatives probably don’t even know. I might’ve been nice to them and turned their bad day into good day. Small things like that has an impact, you know.”
Mickey scowled, “That makes no sense.”
You simply smiled and patted his cheek, turning to Ian who placed his hand on your waist. “I still think you should’ve done something, (Y/n). Press charges or something.” He said, wanting to convince you.
Shaking your head with a reassuring smile, you kissed his lips and Mickey’s, successfully shutting both of them up as you hopped off of the counter. “I’m going to change. Take me out on a date, will you two?” You let your hands linger on each of their arm before walking away with an angelic smile, leaving the boys staring after you in slight awe.
“Oh my god, you two are so fucking smitten with him.” Sandy remarked, laughing. The others nodded in agreement, deeply amused.
Ian and Mickey rolled their eyes, “The fuck we’re not.” Mickey denies, though failing to convince them and himself.
“But you are,” Lip shrugged. “He’s got you wrapped all around his finger.”
“Kinda cute if you ask me,” Fiona chuckles.
“Oh, fuck off.” Ian retorts, a smile across his face.
Neither would admit it, but they really were. Equally smitten with one another, your relationship had always been wholesome, except for the times all three of you were friends with benefits.
Ian and Mickey slept together first obviously, only started hooking up with you after the incident with Terry. Mickey was first to do it when he went to your house to spend time with you since you’re the only person he could trust aside from Ian, the casual conversation taking a turn after he had asked if you would fuck him if you were gay, which you told him you were, causing Mickey to literally demand a fuck from you.
“Hey, man?” Mickey slowly called to you who was sitting on the opposite side of the ridiculously big couch, eyes focused on the movie with a can of coke in your hand.
“Hm?” You hum, turning to look at him despite being completely indulged in the movie plot. Mickey liked that, how you’re willing to give him your full attention even though you’re busy and don’t even have to look at him at all.
He glances down, picking with his hand, slightly nervous. But he knew you wouldn’t judge, you never did. It was unlikely of him to feel this way, but Mickey couldn’t help it. Nearly unbearable to talk to someone as nice and caring as you yet can’t bring himself to stay away.
“Would you—would you fuck me if you were, you know, fucking gay?”
Your brows raised at the random question. Though it wasn’t difficult to realize it’s because of the previous gay scene in the movie you’re watching where the main characters made love to each other without it being censored and shit. “Well,” You started with a small smile adorning your face, “I don’t know if you knew but I’m actually gay, Milkovich.”
Mickey’s head snapped to your side, eyes wide. “Wait, what? Why the fuck didn’t you tell me? Or Ian?”
“You didn’t ask,” You simply shrugged. “I normally don’t go around announcing to everybody what my sexuality is. Kind of weird if I did that,” You joked, earning a glare from the Milkovich. “But honestly, I didn’t think it was something I had to tell you or Ian. I just let people guess or notice it on their own.”
“How the fuck do they even notice?" Mickey remarks, furrowing his brows. “I’ve literally never seen you with any guys or girls. Have you even hooked up with somebody?”
You chuckled, “Nope. Wasn’t really interested.”
“Damn,” Mickey gave you a weird look. It was so odd to see someone in southside not doing drugs or shit, let alone sleeping around with whoever they liked. He wasn’t used to it. Now, you feel like a fucking holy being or something. But then, Mickey realizes you never actually answered his question, so he repeated again. “You didn’t answer my fucking question, would you fuck me?”
You’re gay, so might as well shoot his shot. Can’t really miss this opportunity.
You stare at him, something glinting in your eyes that definitely wasn’t innocence. Your lips slowly formed a sly grin as you tilted your head. “What if I said yes? What are you gonna do?”
A smile appeared on Mickey’s lips, “Then fucking get on with it, (L/n).”
Conveniently, you were a switch so Mickey didn’t have to pretend he didn’t like having dick in his ass. He told Ian he slept with you that came off as surprise since apparently Ian also didn’t know you were gay, which led to Ian sleeping with you as well.
“You’re so weird,” Ian laughed when he caught you stacking some nuggets together to build a makeshift tower, having woken up from a friendly sleepover at your house.
You grinned and stacked the last piece of nugget, looking at Ian as you gestured to your work of art. “Tadaaaa!” It caused him to burst out laughing, sitting down beside you on the couch.
“What are you doing?” Ian asked between laughter.
You shrugged your shoulders, “I was bored and you weren’t waking up anytime soon. Figured I’d kill my time.” Smiling, you offered him a can of beer that was sitting on the table, having just taken out from the fridge. Ian accepted, thanking you. “How did you sleep?”
Ian smiled after taking a gulp from the beer and placed it down on the table, “Great, actually. Like the times I haven’t been able to sleep isn’t real.” Relief was evident on his face, considering how big the bags under his eyes were. He never mentioned that you were the reason of him being unable to fall asleep, always thinking of you ever since that horrible day that suddenly turned great with your presence. Hearing about you sleeping with Mickey made him decide nothing will happen if he just thinks around, thus the sleepover.
A soft look crosses your face as you begin to play with his hair, touch displaying gentleness Ian had never felt before. His eyes met yours, such a warm gaze making him feel loved even without doing anything. “Well, I’m glad the cuddle worked, Gallagher. You can always come to me when you can’t sleep, I’ll hold you until you can.” Voice merely above a whisper, you gently told him.
Ian was feeling breathless. Everything about your welcoming and accepting nature deemed temptation; his pupils dilating, throat suddenly dry as if he’s been dehydrated, stomach growling as if hasn’t eaten in days, feeling your soft hand brush through his ginger hair as you stared at him innocently yet almost seducing. The tension was too thick to be cut with a knife. And with the growing urge to just give in to the temptation, Ian leaned forward without a second thought, capturing your lips in a kiss.
You made a noise of surprise that immediately caused Ian to pull away, a panicked look in his eyes, scared he might’ve ruined the most precious friendship he’s ever had. Series of apology slipped past his lips, but you shut him up by putting a finger up to his lips.
“Don’t apologize, I’m not mad, silly.” You reassured, though concern plastered your face. “Are you sure you want this?”
“Yeah,” His response was nearly quick. “Why do you think I agreed to a sleepover?”
That angelic smile of yours returned again, chuckling. “Okay then, Gallagher. Do whatever you want.” You said before kissing him again, letting the rest of the day continue.
Again, it was convenient that you’re a switch, because even though Ian has tried bottoming before, he preferred topping, especially with you or Mickey. Well, you and Mickey now. Those sleeping around days were a lot... wild, to say the least.
You never slept with anyone besides Ian and Mickey, always uninterested in other guys and turning them down nicely quite often, which Mandy — your bestfriend — noticed.
Questionable, of course, because there was one incident at the Alibi where she, Lip, and Fiona were present and you and Ian came out the bathroom covered in hickeys, not even bothering to hide them as the two of you sat down with them. However, when a guy noticed and realized what happened, they attempted to shoot their shot with you, miserably failing as you turned it down without further acknowledgement while Ian just shrugged, as if he already knew that was going to be your answer. Then, Mickey suddenly barged in only to tell you a short “not tired yet, are ya?” while walking to the bathroom, and you smiled at Ian before following Mickey.
It happened quite a lot in different circumstances that even the Gallaghers caught up on how Ian and Mickey are the only ones you let getting in your pants.
It was a messy and complicated time where everyone had to deal with their own shit; Mickey with his homophobic upbringing and sexual crisis, Ian with his confusion in feeling something for both you and Mickey at the same time and doubts to himself, you with accepting your romantic attraction to both of them, keeping it locked in, and fulfilling the desire to be with them by sleeping with them. It’s either they slept with each other, you slept with either of them, or the three of you slept together, all bonded somehow. Ian and Mickey were the first ones to get their shit together and officially became partners, and well... it honestly didn’t turn out good back then due to you still dealing with your own shit that nobody ever noticed. That story could be for another day, though.
The point is, your friendship used to be wholesome, but the extent of it increased more when you three settled after all that shitshow. There were some toxicity at first, especially with Mickey struggling to overcome the genuinely awful upbringing he had — he was dating a guy after all, and not just one but two — along with Ian’s diagnosis of bipolar disorder. But having each other and not giving up on each other made the toxicity disappear and morph into something positive, each of you going through some relationship development together.
Compared to back then, the three of you had grown overly comfortable with each other and the polyamorous relationship you had, not feeling discomfort when people look at you weirdly. Coming to terms with the issues truly helped.
However, neither Ian nor Mickey had come to terms with your kindness towards people who didn’t deserve it, and they absolutely have no plans of coming to terms with it at all. People can be a lot rude and asshole when you’re nice to them, which is why they simultaneously keep themselves and each other from strangling the person’s neck everytime it treated or spoke to you horribly.
Well, frankly, nobody would understand and you don’t expect them to. Too bad they’re going to have to sooner than later, because you’ve been feeling a little irritable — it’s only a matter of time before the truth cracks through the surface of friendliness and nice personality you’ve plastered on.
Once it does, people will be fucked.
You know who you are when you’re not nice; it’s never a pretty sight. It’s a bloodbath.
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Everything seemed perfect.
Dinner’s pretty cheap, but not unbearable. One of the nicest things about you is that you don’t care for the price as long as it’s edible and tasty. You’re not the one to fuss over the cheapness or expensiveness of anything and the Gallaghers loved that, because you wouldn’t talk shit of how they can’t afford shit. Birthdays are special occasion where people usually ask for expensive gifts, but the Gallaghers were always reminded by you not to go grand on celebrations or presents, because you didn’t like them spending their money on something other than theirselves.
They still went with it though, going to a cheap local bar where they serve cheap dinner so everyone could celebrate the birth date of you, who was born special in southside Chicago with kindness that’s seemingly a curse.
The night went by smoothly, everyone enjoying their time and having fun — You, Ian, Mickey, Mandy, Sandy, Lip, Fiona, Liam, Debbie, Franny, Veronica, Kev, and even Frank who was by the bar because his family disapproved of him joining. He still did, considering you’re the nicest kid he’s ever met.
Perfect. Everything was perfect. Too perfect that it’s becoming strange, how well this night is going.
You were absolutely correct to feel like that.
Mickey’s blood was boiling at the man that had suddenly approached the table with a friendly smile only to go around spitting whatever the fuck he wanted to talk about, mainly nasty things. But according to him, he knew you and you knew him, well enough, even though they didn’t know him despite being your boyfriends. The Gallaghers were collectively surprised of his sudden appearance, considering none of them knew him, but concerns littered their faces when the man mentioned you.
“I honestly don’t know what (Y/n)’s thinking, hanging out with Gallaghers and dating one,” The man, who ( unwantedly ) introduced himself as Caius snickered.
Ian, despite his annoyance increasing at Caius’ presence, tried to remain calm. “What’s it to you? And fyi, he’s also dating him, so don’t fucking talk like that.” He pointed at Mickey, who glared daggers at the man.
“Fuck, he’s dating two guys?” Caius laughed mockingly. “And a Milkovich at that. But aren’t you, like, bipolar though? With the gene.” His mention of the diagnosis made Mickey furious as he slammed his hands against the table and attempted to stand up, only to be held back by Ian. Everyone had their blood boiling now, but forced themselves to keep calm since it’s your birthday. Nobody wanted to ruin it for you.
“I guess crazy psychopaths are his type, huh? With how the screws in his head are fucking loose, I’m not surprised.” He snarled, looking at both of them. However, his words cuts through the boiling rage within Ian and Mickey as they both processed his words, furrowing their brows in confusion at the mention of the screws in your head being loose.
Before anyone could utter a single word, the loud sound of wine bottle smashing against the back of Caius’ head erupts throughout the entire bar as he dropped to the floor cursing loudly, revealing you holding the remaining end of the shattered bottle. The nice look on your face no longer visible as it contorted into an emotionless expression, eyes holding utmost coldness with some unknown darkness within them that sent chills up everyone’s spine.
You merely acknowledged Caius groaning in pain on the floor, throwing away the shattered piece of the wine bottle to the side as you nonchalantly patted off your hands of any invisible dirt.
“Oh my fucking god,” Fiona was the first to react, terrified as she witnessed Caius touch the back of his head and get a blood on his palm. The other Gallaghers were already standing a feet away as they all jumped up and away from the table when you smashed a bottle on the man’s head, completely shocked and stunned, Lip and Carl letting out holy fuck.
“Jesus fucking Christ!”
“What the fuck did you just do?”
Ian and Mickey exclaimed in sync, with Ian looking at you while Mickey at Caius, both eyes wide and shock on their faces.
You shrugged, the usual smile completely nonexistent. “Smashed a bottle on an old friend’s head after talking shit about my boyfriends.” The slightest hint of apathy in your tone worried them a bit, but you quickly shifted your cold gaze to Caius. “Quit fucking moaning, Caius. You already saw it coming when you decided to approach them while I was gone for the bathroom.”
“Fuck,” Caius groaned, laying on his back to shoot you a glare. “I just got fucking discharged from the hospital you put me in, shithead. A little nice sympathy maybe? The one you fucking show people.”
“Certainly didn’t need sympathy when you brought up Ian’s bipolar disorder,” You smiled sarcastically. “And don’t be fucking dramatic, it was just few broken bones.”
“You made me fucking bleed internally and you wanna call that just a few broken bones?” Caius snapped. Everyone’s eyes widened.
Rolling your eyes, you folded the sleeves up of your button up while clenching and unclenching your fist, something that Ian and Mickey didn’t miss. “Serves you right for planning to shoot Micky Milkovich. Unfortunately for you, I genuinely and utterly loathe someone describing either of them as crazy psychopaths, especially since Ian’s been diagnosed bipolar, so...”
You grinned sadistically.
“Consider today your finally meet God and be sent to Hell day.”
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Everyone watched as you rub your face while talking to the cops about what happened inside the bar, the back of your hand all bloody and knuckles busted, probably tainted in both Caius’ and your own blood. It was scary to see you so violent and, as Caius said, have screws in the head loose. The unlikeliness and the way you acted and looked so different from how you usually were terrified them.
Not Ian and Mickey, though. They were standing on both of your sides while the rest were a few feet behind, still attempting to calm down from the shock of witnessing your change in attitude and your true colors seeping through the cracks.
Your entire demeanor now was back to normal; not that cold and expressionless presence with terrifying apathy, but the warm, full of expression and accepting presence. You had quietly greeted the cops earlier with a small smile that turned into a frown of guilt, which somehow was enough for them not to handcuff you despite the damage you caused on Caius.
“I probably shouldn’t have done all of those to him,” You muttered thoughtfully while biting your lip. “I don’t think I regret it though. He crossed the line, I got pissed.”
“You normally don’t get pissed, Mr. (L/n).” One of the cops remarked.
Shrugging your shoulders, you gave them a small smile. “That’s just what you think of me. I don’t really care if people insult me or talk shit about me, but my boyfriends are one of the most significant people in my life, so they’re off-limits. I really can’t handle anyone talking shit about them.” Your soft tone falling down to a serious and firm one, you narrowed your eyes at the ambulance that contained Caius’ unconscious body.
“Are Mr. Milkovich and Mr. Gallagher basically your trigger?” The other cop wondered.
You nodded immediately, “Yeah. I think so.” Rubbing your nape with the uninjured hand nervously, you bit the inside of your cheek. “Shouldn’t you be handcuffing me? I definitely went too far, I blacked out in anger, and he’s unconscious with some injuries that are probably worse than what I think, so…” You slowly brought your hands together, ready to get arrested.
“Don’t worry, witnesses came forward and shared what happened. They confirmed Caius went too far with the disclosure of a person’s medical condition confidentiality.” One of the officers stated, gently bringing your hands down.
Your eyes snapped to the cops, “Wait, really?”
“Yes, they understood how off-limits your boyfriends are and immediately talked to us after we arrived.” The two cops smiled, seeing the look of relief on your face. “We’ll get going then, Mr. (L/n). You have nothing to worry about.”
“Thank you.” Sighing in relief, you gave them a look of gratitude as they began getting into their car before your blank face returned.
“You’re fucking one hell of an actor, (Y/n) (L/n).” Mickey remarked after seeing your face fall and glare threateningly at the ambulance as soon as the cops drove off.
“Hey,” Ian softly called to catch your attention, cupping your face. “Look at me. Look at us. Calm down, (Y/n). It’s fine, we’re fine, okay? You don’t have to be mad anymore.”
Mickey watched silently from the side with his arm around Ian’s waist and the other hand gently rubbing your arm to help bring comfort to you. Tense shoulders slowly softening and body relaxing, they witnessed the rage storm calm in your eyes as the hard gaze softened and you respond to their gesture by melting into their touch.
You sighed deeply, “Okay.”
Both of them couldn’t help but notice the empathy slipping back into your eyes and expression, brightening it up, making it seem more alive. Your eyes looked dead earlier when you were beating the life out of Caius until he was barely breathing, it honestly scared and freaked the fuck out of your boyfriends, even though they would probably never admit it. It was like seeing a soulless person because of the lack of empathy and all.
Though, seeing that happen definitely made them reconsider the thought that you grew up perfectly sane without bottled up issues in southside Chicago — They didn’t realize the bottled up issues was simply your kindness and nice atittude, the main things that literally allows you to get whatever you want from anyone because it’s the easiest way to manipulate others into giving you what you want, and they wouldn’t even realize the manipulation.
That’s your own shit to deal with; you force yourself to be nice and caring, so your apathy wouldn’t come up to the surface and destroy things. However, Ian and Mickey somehow knew none of the nice or caring side you showed to them were fake. Because if they were, would you even be in a relationship with them?
It would probably take a lot of time to figure you out, especially when you seem to like hiding behind the nicest person in southside Chicago mask and never let the surface crack to get even a peek inside, but they were willing to try. You’re their boyfriend after all.
“We’ll figure it out, (Y/n).” Mickey gently says. “We always fucking do. Right, Gallagher?” He smirked at Ian, who instantly nodded with an of course, before Mickey grabbed the back of his head and kissed his lips.
You smiled at them, genuinely.
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