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#mostly knowing everything that he went through
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I need a friends to lovers hurt/comfort fic from you pleaseeee. My request is that reader is upset because something happened with her family and she got daddy issues or something (definitely not projecting😜🥰). matt doesn't know what's wrong tho but tries to cheer her up by getting her a cake or something and then as she's eating she starts unintentionally slowly crying and she tries to hide it but matt ofc notices it straight away. he tries to comfort her but before they could get further and she could start opening up nick & chris came in and she immediately stops and pretends to be fine. they joked around and stuff cuz nick & chris are oblivious to everything the whole time and matt is just impatiently waiting for the time when they get to be alone so he can talk to her and figure out whats wrong. maybe later in the night when everyone's asleep he finally approaches y/n and then they slow talk and he just comforts her and idk just more fluff at the end? change whatever you'd like I'd just be happy enough if you even decide to do my request. thank u and ily <3
Happy Birthday- M. Sturniolo
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pairing: Waitress!reader x Bff!Coworker!Matt
classification: sad, fluff
warnings: use of y/n, cursing, mention of parental issues, mention of family problems, mention of death of parent, mention of alcohol addiction
inspiration: request^^ took a spin on this, hope u like it bby
summary: Over the course of working together for years, Matt picks up on everything and despite not understanding it completely, he comforts you through the hurt.
“Sorry I’m late,” your voice is choppy as you try catching your breath. Quick fingers work towards tying your apron around your waist before flying towards your hair and throwing it up in a haphazard pony tail. You’re an hour late for your shift, an extremely rare occurrence for you.
Matt, who’s currently working the grill, feels a wave of relief wash over him at the sight of you. As the night progresses, the diner is slowly picking up to a steady, busy pace and without a waitress, Nick, Chris and Matt would never survive.
“No worries, I’m just glad you could make it,” he replies. Matt’s eyes always have a habit of dancing over your entire face, today being no exception. He notices the dark circles that formed under your eyes, your sunken in cheeks, and how pale your skin is. Details like this never went unnoticed by Matt, especially not on a day as important as today, and, despite how disheveled you look, he can’t help but be enthralled by your beauty
An array of plates and trays are sprawled on the order window, each of them piled with greasy, hot food. You wear a disassociated, blank expression as you reply, too focused on catching up on the work at hand, “Is this food ready to be sent out?” You yank a ticket from one of the trays, briefly reading Nick’s messy handwriting to ensure everything was correct.
Matt hums in response, deeply intrigued as to what ails you, but not wanting to press any further. As soon as you hear that, you become a task bot and effortlessly send the orders out.
Your incredible work ethic is directly fueled by your need to distract yourself from the reality of your life. It’s your 21st birthday, a day that for most people involves a fancy brunch, meaningful gifts, a scrapbook full of photos, and a drunk night out. 21 was supposed to feel magical, every aspect about this day was meant to be special and perfect.
But you aren’t most people, and your life was anything but perfect.
Your mother has been in and out of your life since you were 8. She was an amazing mother, when she was sober at least, but your parents were always arguing, mostly because your dad worked a lot and it made your mom feel neglected and lonely. The arguments filled her with enough sadness to lead her to drinking and one day her alcoholism consumed her until she just never returned home. You were 13 the last time you saw her, and you spent your entire adolescence blaming your dad for being the reason she left.
So, from the age of 13, you stopped being a kid. While other children were watching morning cartoons before school, a fussy 2 year old rested on your hips as you tried braiding your 8 year old sisters hair. All the while your dad was working grueling hours in order to keep a roof over your heads. His hard work went unnoticed, instead being met with resentment from you.
It wasn’t until you turned 18, when your father suddenly passed of a heart attack, that you realized how much weight and responsibility rested on his shoulders. Upon his passing, your siblings were placed under your official guardianship. It was the inheritance you never asked for, but as the oldest sister you had no other choice.
So, instead of spending the day with friends, you’ve been forced to pick up your parent’s slack. You have two younger siblings at home who have no one else but you. All day you’ve been basically running after them, tending to their needs and trying to make their lives a little less unbearable. And although they’re your pride and joy, the absolute most important part of your life, you can’t help but wonder what life would be like if they weren’t your responsibility.
The trauma and grief has led your siblings to be more of a handful than other kids their age. Your 17 year old sister, Safiya, finds herself falling into the wrong crowds. Money is tight which has led her to develop a habit of shoplifting. It was simple and harmless at first, consisting of her pocketing items such as nail polish and candy bars. But eventually she and her friends were running out of stores with duffel bags full of clothes, the adrenaline that came from being chased by police officers being better than any drug.
On the other hand, your 10 year old brother, Giovani, struggled to make friends. Every week you were receiving at least one phone call that he’s gotten into yet another fight. There’s an inconsolable anger inside of him that causes him to lash out at anyone that isn’t you or Safiya, and when you’re not worried about his temper, you’re nagging him about his failing grades.
Needless to say, your life was not easy. Everyday you played the role of mother, and you often found yourself asking God what you did to deserve this; what you did to deserve a 21st birthday, a life, full of nothing but sorrow and struggle.
“Happy birthday, girl!” Nick whispers excitedly, pulling you in for a quick side hug as you reenter the kitchen. Matt watches as your lips form a tight lipped smile, your sad eyes giving you away immediately. You’re grateful for the sentiment, but still can’t muster up enough energy to actually feel excited.
“Thanks, Nick. I appreciate it,” you return his hug, immediately returning to work.
After a long, busy rush, your break couldn’t have come any sooner. The diner is quiet, the bustling atmosphere from before being replaced with nothing but the sound of groaning trees and the music that plays lowly from the jukebox.
“You going on break?” Matt asks, his arms submerged elbows deep in the sink. “Yeah I think so. I probably won’t get another chance to eat,” you comment. You look visibly happier than earlier, but there’s still a twinge of sadness in your voice.
“Alright, lemme just finish these dishes and I’ll make your food. Okay?” Matt’s voice is soft, almost like he knows that the reason for your sadness runs much deeper than an uneventful birthday. “No! It’s okay, I’ll just ask Chris to do it,” you say, ready to turn on your heels before he can protest.
His words catch you before you can, “I have a surprise for you! Just wait for me, please.” You lazily walk over to him and tiptoe, peering over the large, industrial sink to see how many dishes he has left. He basically has the whole kitchen sitting in the water, “You have so many left to wash though!”
A fake pout forms on Matt’s face, eliciting the first real laugh from you since you arrived. “You can help me?” he suggests, his eyelashes batting over his big doe eyes.
Your resolve crumbles quickly, you were never able to say no to Matt, “Fine, but only because Chris always burns the bacon.” You roll your sleeves up, cuffing them until they’re high enough to keep dry. The sound of clanging metal and swishing water settles between you two as you work towards washing the dishes before the next rush.
“How’s 21 treating you by the way?” Matt asks playfully, eyes momentarily glossing over you as he awaits an answer.
“Well I’m not drunk,” you chuckle, scrubbing at a tough spot on one of the pans. For some reason you feel safe with him, like you can tear your protective walls down and bare the most vulnerable parts of you. Over the course of working together, he’s become a true friend, an unjudgemental listening ear. Everyone else in your life has failed and disappointed you, but not Matt.
“You don’t have to be drunk to have fun,” he replies, hands wading through the sink for the next dish.
“True, but I’m not sure I’d categorize picking my little sister up from jail and getting my brother from school because he was expelled as ‘fun,’” your wet, soapy hands throw an air quote around the last word. You didn’t mean to trauma dump, especially not when the conversation started so light and airy, but you couldn’t help it. There were so many things on your mind, that up until this point, you had been actively ignoring.
“Bet you won’t forget this birthday, though,” Matt jokes, and you’re grateful it’s not a response laced with pity. You laugh, because it was true. One day none of this would matter, it would become an old folk-tale-like memory that you’d someday tell your children.
“Jail, though? Fuck, what did she even steal?” Matt shakes his head in disbelief, how a 17 year old girl managed to get into so much trouble was beyond him. A part of him did feel bad that you were the one struggling with these kids, but he never showed it because he knew how much you hated sympathetic, pitiful treatment.
“Some dumbass jeans that were 3 sizes too big,” you scoff, draining the sink. “I was so mad, I mean it was just juvie and they let her off with a warning because she’s a first time offender, but why the fuck was she stealing jeans? Can’t she steal useful stuff, like fucking milk or something?”
Matt laughs, running a white kitchen towel over his hands to dry them. “And Gio? Was he in on the heist too?”
“Oh please, I wish, maybe then he would’ve been let off with a warning too,” you take the towel from Matt, patting your hands dry as well. “This dumbass got expelled for fighting a kid who told him his shoes were fake. They’re not by the way, Safiya stole those too.”
“So now I have to enroll this kid somewhere else, if they’ll even take him. He has such a bad track record, Matt. I’ll probably have to move my sister to a different school too because she’s surrounded by so many bad influences… I don’t even know what to do,” your voice breaks slightly at the end, the sadness once again washing over you.
Matt brings you in for a quick hug, “let’s just worry about getting you fed for now, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you sniffle, wiping the singular tear that runs down your cheek.
As if on queue your phone starts ringing, your sister’s name illuminating the screen. “Hold on I gotta take this real quick,” you mutter, pulling away from the hug. He wishes he could keep you there forever and tell you everything would be okay, but instead he hums in response, watching you disappear out the back door with the phone pressed against your ear.
When the door clicks shut, he turns into the kitchen, throws some gloves on and begins making your food.
A stack of fluffy chocolate chip pancakes sits next to scrambled eggs and two strips of bacon. Matt knew your order by memory, one of the many details he’s learned about you over the course of your friendship.
Chris’s voice fills the kitchen, announcing his entry, “Does that look good? I don’t know, Nick said it doesn’t.”
While you and Matt washed the dishes, Nick and Chris decorated an isolated booth in the back of the diner. Balloons, streamers, and an iridescent tablecloth adorn the area. A small ‘Happy Birthday’ banner is strung from two parallel windowsills. It was something small and simple, but Matt knew you’d love it.
Matt peers over the order window, briefly examining their work before returning to the task at hand. “It looks good, it doesn’t have to be perfect. She’ll love it.”
Nick walks into the kitchen, fingers tying a knot in one of the balloons, “Are you sure? I’d be so fucking mad if that’s what I saw as my 21st birthday set up.”
“I’m sure. She’ll love it.”
Matt pokes two candles into the stack of pancakes, the number 21 sitting perfectly on the fluffy pastries. He used whipped cream, strawberries, and chocolate chips to create a simple design around the outer edges before drizzling some maple syrup on top. The bacon was broken up to create a smile on the eggs, a corny gesture he thought of last minute.
The back door suddenly opens, causing the triplets to freeze in place. They hadn’t figured out exactly how they were going to execute this, they’d only gotten as far as the decorations and the make-shift cake.
“Nick you go distract her, Chris go change the music in the lobby!” Matt instructs quickly, his voice hushed so you won’t hear him. They scramble into position, Matt managing to hide somewhere in the diner lobby where you won’t see him.
“Nick, what are you doing?” you laugh, feeling Nick’s cold hands cover your eyes. “Shush, no questions,” he replies, causing you to hold back more laughter. Nick leads you into the lobby slowly, your hands holding onto his as they still work to obstruct your vision. Matt watches as you two walk in, his hands shaking with excitement as he lights the candles.
“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you!” the triplets begin to sing in unison, both Chris and Matt approaching the decorated booth. Nick removes his hands, a shocked expression immediately forming on your face.
As they continue singing the song, you admire the decorations in awe. Suddenly you’re a little girl, the random decorations being everything you needed as a child. The tears begin welling in your eyes, this was completely unexpected.
“Make a wish,” Matt whispers, bringing you in for a side hug as he holds the plate in front of you. You’ve never had a birthday cake before, let alone candles to blow a wish on. And although it’s simple, the makeshift cake is enough to bring the waterworks.
You squeeze your eyes shut, fat tears streaming down your face as you blow the candles out. There’s only one thing you can think to ask for, but you don’t dare verbalize it in fear that it won’t come true. The flame flickers, disappearing into a cloud of smoke as your wish floats away.
“Hey don’t cry! You’re 21!” Chris exclaims, shaking your shoulders in an attempt to lighten the mood, but you can’t help it. You’ve weren’t expecting any of this and it’s quite honestly the nicest thing anyone has ever done for you.
“Sorry,” you chuckle, wiping the tears away quickly. “Thank you guys for this. It’s beautiful,” you continue, bringing the trio in for a group hug. Nick and Chris are the first to pull away, leaving you clinging to Matt.
“You can thank Matt. This was all his idea,” Chris replies. Your arms are wrapped around Matt’s waist, a hug being the only way you can think to thank him. You look up at him, glossy eyes threatening to spill again.
“Happy birthday,” Matt murmurs, a smile forming on his face as he places the plate on the table and snakes his arms around you.
The moment is intimate enough to serve as Nick and Chris’s queue to leave. They sneak away into the kitchen quietly, giving you and Matt privacy.
“Thank you so much for this, Matt. You don’t know what this means to me,” you whisper, eyes locked with his.
“It’s nothing,” he shrugs.
“No, Matt. I really love this. Thank you.” A comfortable silence settles between you, the jukebox playing a calm melodic tune. You haven’t broken from the hug, swaying back and forth as you continue to admire the setup before you.
“Are you gonna try my cake?” Matt asks, using his chin to point towards the table. The whipped cream was beginning to melt into the spongy dough, strawberries and chocolate chips drooping down the edges.
“Mmm yeah, but I wanna stay like this just a little longer.” He doesn’t complain, instead pulling you in closer and resting his head on yours as you continue swaying to the music.
“That was really nice, Matt. Thank you,” it feels like the hundredth time that you’ve thanked Matt tonight. A half finished plate of food sits in front of you, the pancakes being enough to fill you up.
“You don’t have to keep thanking me, you know,” he laughs. Matt sits next to you on the same booth chair, using the balloons that cluttered the other side as an excuse to sit closer to you.
“I do, though. No one has ever done anything this thoughtful for me before... Not like there’s anyone left to do it,” the last part is hushed, he almost doesn’t catch it.
“C’mon, you’ve never had at least one birthday party?” He asks, his fingers play with one of the balloon strings. Despite knowing your tragic backstory, Matt finds the information hard to believe.
“Nope. This is the first cake I’ve ever had,” you admit, feeling sad at the confession.
“Well I hope you at least made a good wish,” Matt senses your shift in emotion, so he’s trying to remain positive.
“Yeah…” your voice trails off, fingernails scraping and picking at the plastic table cloth.
“Are you gonna tell me what you wished for, or are you superstitious?” Matt props an elbow on the table, resting his head on the palm of his hand as he looks at you. The moonlight from outside shines through the window, working alongside the dim diner lighting to illuminate your beautiful face. Your hair is down, the loose strands that keep falling in front of your eyes tucked behind your ears.
The question has you serious and embarrassed, “I’m not superstitious, it’s just a really corny wish.” He gives you a knowing look, one that encourages you to continue.
“You won’t make fun of me?” you ask, looking up at him tentatively.
You take a deep breath, rubbing your thighs in an attempt to ease your nerves before admitting something completely vulnerable, “I wished my dad was still here.”
“I know it’s never going to happen, I’m not naive, but I’ve never had a candle to wish on before so I just… I just wanted to make it count. I know it’s dumb—” your words are quiet and Matt cuts you off.
A gentle hand pulls your attention to him, his thumb caressing your cheek, “I don’t think it’s dumb.”
You don’t know what you did to deserve a friend as kind and loving as Matt. Another tear rolls down your cheek, swiftly being wiped away by Matt’s thumb. Even in your emotional state, you looked beautiful.
Subconsciously, Matt’s moving in closer to you. His eyes are flickering between your soft gaze and the plump lips that call out to him. Maybe it’s the atmosphere, the vulnerability of the moment, or maybe it’s the undeniable crush you’ve had on Matt for years, but your eyes flutter shut and copy him in leaning in.
His lips find yours quickly, you taste like maple syrup and whipped cream. You’re the perfect sweet treat to end such an eventful night. Your hands rest on his shoulders, slowly traveling to the nape of his neck as your lips mould together. Neither of you can seem to get enough of each other. His tongue slips into your mouth, eliciting a small moan from you.
The moment you pull away, you’re breathless. Foreheads are pressed together, eyes locking to keep the intensity of the moment.
“Happy birthday, beautiful,” he murmurs, going in for the next kiss of many.
MASTERLIST
a/n: you guys have no idea how long this sat in my drafts. I kept telling myself it was too sad, but it’s HURT TO COMFORT IT HAS TO HE SAD!
anyways my sweet anon! I hope you like this, especially bc I changed it a bit.
thank u and I luv YOU 💌
-L.A.M.B👼🏻💗
taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03 @k-l-a-w-s @hearts4chris @maryx2xx
note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐
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rileyslibrary · 24 hours
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Hi, this might be a strange request, but could you please do some sort of character analysis, or maybe tell some of your headcanons for the 141 characters??
I’ve been trying to find some, but everything I find is either weirdly out of character or just some sort of weird projection onto the characters 😭
Not strange at all, anon! It just occurred to me that, for a blog dedicated to Ghost, I’ve never done something like this. Also, I understand what you mean, but it’s also important to remember that headcanons are extremely subjective. Maybe the same applies to my case, and someone also finds my headcanons out of character; who knows?
Please note that I can’t say much about the other boys since I’ve only focused on Ghost, so here are some of my headcanons (i.e. that’s how I personally imagine Ghost):
He’s your average, ordinary guy on the outside. Sure, he is stereotypically attractive (tall, beefy, with a deep voice), but so are a billion other people in this world. There’s nothing extraordinary about him, which is precisely what makes him so intriguing.
I like to imagine his personality similarly to how he wears his uniform—layer, under layer, under layer. You want to peel him like an onion; uncover what lies beneath the surface.
He’s extremely pragmatic and values function over form. It doesn’t matter if something looks bad/ugly/weird as long as it gets the job done. If it works, it works.
Moderation gives him a sense of discipline. He wants to control everything that’s within his ability to do so—managing what food he puts in his body, regulating his alcohol intake, handling finances, and even carefully choosing his words. It helps him maintain his sanity, knowing he has control over his life, especially considering what he went through.
He’s also incredibly efficient. He doesn’t waste time on things that aren’t important or beyond his control.
He’s not a gym rat (he doesn’t regard it as a second home), but he’s definitely a regular. The gym owners are familiar with him, though their interactions are brief—maybe they exchanged a few words to renew his membership in the past, but that’s about it.
He tends to stick to the free-weight section at the gym. If it’s crowded, he’ll put on his headphones to tune everything out, but if it’s quiet, he doesn’t bother. While he doesn’t use the machines often, he’ll turn to them occasionally, particularly when he needs more controlled movement.
Warming up before exercising is particularly important to him, and he takes his time to stretch afterwards, usually in an isolated corner of the gym. He never skips leg day.
He is not a flirt. Usually, it’s others who pursue him rather than the other way around. It’s almost like he has it too easy in that department. He doesn’t have to make much effort—he simply goes about his business (occasionally checking his surroundings for potential dangers,) and suddenly, people gravitate towards him. He’s not a fan of this attention but keeps it to himself.
He engages in a flirtatious exchange almost every day with the elderly lady who manages the convenience store in his neighbourhood, though. He often compliments her on her hair and how young she looks and sometimes jokes that if her late husband were still around, he’d have some competition. She, in return, offers him freebies, which he politely declines. However, he sometimes accepts these gestures in exchange for lending a hand with tasks around the store.
His apartment is modest since he travels a lot, yet he considers it his personal haven when he returns to it. He deliberately keeps it free of any traces of his alternate identity. There’s a family photo framed somewhere. Even his dad included. Maybe he considered cutting him out of the picture but decided against it. He wants to be reminded of both the positive and negative experiences that influence his decisions and actions.
He likes to make his own jokes. They mostly come to him when he does something mundane, like cooking, showering, or watching TV. He doesn’t take offence if others don’t laugh at his jokes, though. He simply views them as idiots or lacking a sense of humour.
He opts for public transport only when needed, like during heavy traffic, but that doesn’t mean he likes it. He keeps his back against the wall and doesn’t wear headphones since he wants to be aware of his surroundings.
He breaks fights if he stumbles upon them late at night and calls the police. When the officers arrive, he is the first to talk to them and usually scolds them for not getting there faster.
I don’t think he wears his mask when he’s out and about. In my mind, Simon Riley is different from Ghost. If someone manages to connect the dots, he’ll make sure it’s the last time they do so. For him, good people don’t know who Ghost is. Only bad people do.
He wants to extend his sleeve tattoo further up his arm but struggles to find the time to schedule an appointment with his tattoo artist. Yes, he has a trusted tattoo artist.
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deakyjoe · 14 hours
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I Got Chills, They’re Multiplying
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Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x Reader (fem, she/her)
Category: sick fic, fluff
Summary: Despite being stubbornly independent, Bob won’t let you push him away in your time of need.
Warnings: sickness, sexual references and innuendos, implication of Bob having a “lieutenant” kink, just fluff mostly, reader is used to pushing people away, they’re like hella in love but won’t say it
Word count: 2.4k
A/N: Wrote this exhausted because I haven’t been able to sleep these past few days due to being sick. Enjoy!
You stared at the last text message Bob had sent you.
Okay, get well soon!
It was unclear whether the constant pounding in your head was what was making you feel sick or if it was how quickly the text conversation had ended with your boyfriend. Well, kind-of boyfriend. You'd been on a lot of dates over the last few months but hadn't actually made it official yet.
It's not like you expected anything from him, you were used to men being pretty dismissive, and his message was actually very friendly, especially with the exclamation point at the end, but you couldn't help but feel a pang of something at him just ending the conversation like that.
To be fair to him, you had told him that you were fine, just had a cold or a minor case of the flu. It was a little worse than that but you weren't used to telling people your problems, used to keeping them bottled up inside. So you guess you couldn't really blame him for taking your word for granted and assuming that, as you'd said, you were fine. And maybe he was busy.
You sighed and tossed your phone aside, burying your face in one of the many blankets you'd dragged to your couch in an attempt to feel slightly warmer. You were being ridiculous, this is exactly what you wanted. And what you expected. At least you had peace and quiet for the day whilst you recovered.
Drifting off into a dreamless sleep came naturally with the state your body was in and you were thankful for it, hoping that the headache that had been plaguing you since you first woke up that morning would be gone by the time you woke up again.
It wasn't.
In fact, it only got worse when the rhythmic throbbing in your skull matched the timing of the person knocking on your front door. You groaned quietly to yourself and dragged yourself up off the couch, wrapping a blanket tight around your shoulders and padding to the door with only one sock on. You figured the other one must have fallen off during your nap.
You didn't even bother looking through the peephole to see who was bothering you, hoping to just snap at them to go away once you'd managed to unlock the door.
That plan was foiled when you were greeted by your favourite pair of baby blue eyes behind wire framed glasses. You immediately softened at the sight of your kind-of boyfriend.
"Oh, hi." You croaked, immediately feeling sheepish that you were about to shout at him without even thinking about the consequences.
Bob frowned at you, giving you a quick once over. "You're sick."
"Yes, I told you that." You chuckled, coughing into your elbow as soon as the words had left your mouth.
"Sicker than you let on." He clarified.
You shrugged, not knowing what to say. He was right. But that's just who you were. Keep everything to yourself, was your motto.
So you just asked him a question instead. "Why are you here? I said I was fine."
Bob smiled at that. "I think your exact words were 'yeah, I'm good' which I knew was a lie."
"Oh." That surprised you.
He went further. "You only say you're good when something's wrong."
God, were you that easy to read?
"So, I thought I'd come check on you." He stiffened suddenly. "I hope that's okay."
You didn't think it possible but somehow you softened more under his worried gaze. "Yes, that's very okay. Do you want to come in?"
You opened the door wider for him, stepping aside and grinning when he hurried in and kicked off his shoes. It was then that you noticed what he was wearing. Blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt. He looked good. Very good. If you didn't feel like you were dying then you'd definitely be jumping his bones right about now. You still kind of wanted to. You pushed the thought aside.
"Didn't realise how hot it is outside. I'm freezing." You mumbled, shuffling back towards your couch. "Do you want a drink?"
"No, thanks. But if I did then I'd make it myself. I'm here to look after you." He placed a hand on the small of your back to guide you in the direction of the blanket pile you'd previously made, smirking at the sight of it.
You shifted away from him. "You don't have to touch me. I'm sick and disgusting right now."
He huffed. "You're beautiful and lovely like always."
"Liar." You grumbled, pushing back into his hand nevertheless.
"No, just smitten and honest." He confessed, sitting you down on the couch and wrapping you in the millions of blankets. "Have you eaten today?"
You shook your head no. You didn't feel up to cooking.
"Want me to make you something?" He stood in front of you with his hands on his hips.
"No." You sighed. "It's okay."
"Yeah, I'm making you something."
You huffed. "You really don't have to-"
"I want to." He cut you off. “I don’t want you to think you can’t ask me for things. You know I care about you, right?”
You nodded slowly. “I know, I’m just used to doing stuff for myself.”
Bob smiled gently. “I know that. But now you don’t have to. I’m here for you. To help. Or whatever you need.”
You were about to respond with a fond thank you when you were interrupted by his cellphone chiming in his pocket.
“Sorry.” He grunted, pulling the device from the front of his jeans.
“It’s okay.” You coughed, curious as to why he was suddenly frowning. “Who is it?”
"Had plans with the team tonight. Was supposed to meet them for drinks." He mumbled, typing away on his phone.
"Oh, god." You rubbed your hand across your face. "Please go. You don't have to stay here. Don't let them down."
Bob suddenly looked up from his screen and gave you an amused smile. "I'm sure they'll understand that I'm looking after my sick girlfriend."
He said it so casually, as if he’d been doing it regularly. Your heart rate picked up at that. Girlfriend. His girlfriend. Bob Floyd's girlfriend. You could've squealed with glee. You stayed silent and settled for a pleased grin.
He sighed to himself once he’d replied to his team and placed his cell down on your coffee table. “Where were we? Oh! Right. Me cooking for you.”
“Like I said, you don’t need to do that.” You pulled your feet up onto the couch after a particularly violent shiver ran through you. “I’m perfectly fine.”
Bob reached out and pressed the back of his hand onto your forehead. “You have a fever. And you’re still shaking like we’re in Antarctica.”
“It’s just my immune system fighting back.” You hummed, leaning into his touch as he moved his hand down to cup your cheek.
“Exactly. And I’m sure some warm soup will just help your immune system out.” He crouched down in front of you, taking the other side of your face in his other hand. “Please let me take care of you.”
The words were so softly spoken, so tender, that you almost started crying. No one had ever sounded so sincere before, especially when it came to your well-being. If you weren’t so scared of infecting him, you would’ve leaned forward to kiss him.
So you could only reply quietly, with the smallest of nods. “Okay.”
His face burst into a dazzling smile, the kind that made you never want to stop looking at him. “Okay. You rest some more and I’ll go make that for you.”
You smiled weakly back at him, suddenly remembering something. “I don’t think I have any soup.”
Bob didn’t falter. “That’s alright. I’ll figure something out.”
You thought that maybe you were a little bit in love with him.
“Help yourself to anything.” It didn’t need to be said, he knew your kitchen pretty well at this point and you always made it clear that he was free to eat or use anything in it when he was over at your place.
He nodded, pressed a kiss to your forehead and stood up. “Try to sleep a little. This might take a while.”
You snorted, regretting it immediately as it made your throat feel all scratchy. “Yes, Lieutenant.”
Bob paused for a second, halfway to taking a step towards the kitchen, and looked back at you. “Lieutenant?”
You nodded, mouth twitching at the corners.
He seemed to think on it for a second. “Hm, we’ll come back to that.”
You giggled quietly into your blanket and settled back onto the couch, closing your eyes and thinking of Bob Floyd. Your boyfriend. Your extremely caring boyfriend. Who was in your kitchen making you soup! When did you suddenly get so lucky? The musings drifted away with you as you slipped into unconsciousness.
Some time passed before you were awoken again by Bob stroking the side of your face and softly uttering your name.
You rubbed your eyes as you sat up, slightly confused as your head cleared. “What’s going on?”
“Soup.” He replied simply, picking up your legs and sitting down before placing them across his lap. He leaned forward to grab the bowl and spoon on your coffee table and then turned to face you.
“You gonna feed me?” You teased.
Bob smiled. “I would if you wanted me to but I’m sure you’d rather I throw this soup in your face than do that.”
He was right.
“Hm, when did you get to know me so well?” You asked, half joking as you took the bowl and spoon from him. The soup was a rich green colour. What he’d found to put in it, you had no idea. “Always thought I was closed off.”
“You are.” He shrugged. “But I pay attention.”
Your eyes shot up to meet his again. He was just looking at you with a slight smile, hands smoothing up and down the lengths of your clothed legs.
You were definitely a little bit in love with him.
You defaulted to a joke. "Remind me when I'm feeling better that you're gonna get it sooo good."
Bob snorted. "I think the fever is making you delirious."
"I'm just frustrated because you, somehow, look hotter than usual and I'm too sick to do anything about it." You gestured vaguely to his outfit, using the spoon to point.
“I’m wearing jeans and a t-shirt.”
“Hot.” You insisted.
"Okay, I'll remind you." He rolled his eyes. “Now eat your soup.”
“Yes, Lieutenant.” You mumbled, dipping the spoon into the thick liquid.
He huffed out a laugh.
You weren’t surprised in the least that the soup was delicious. You were starting to believe that Bob might actually be the perfect man, some sort of miracle sent to Earth to apologise for all the wrongdoing in the world. How he’d managed to concoct a good soup out of the limited ingredients in your kitchen was beyond you. And yet, he’d done it.
“What the hell did you put in this?” You asked, frowning at him mock suspiciously. If you didn’t know him better you’d think he’d ordered it to your place while you were asleep. But Bob Floyd wasn’t that kind of guy.
“Some stuff I found laying around.” He shrugged modestly. “Didn’t follow a recipe or anything.”
You scoffed. “You’re something else.”
He just shrugged again, a pleased smile playing on the corners of his lips, and watched you practically inhale the rest of the dish. He was very glad you’d eaten it.
“How you feeling now?”
“Better.” You admitted. “But I don’t know if it’s because of the soup or because you’re here.”
Bob’s heart thudded against his rib cage at that confession. “Just happy to help.”
You hummed and stared at him fondly.
He had trouble getting his next question out, distracted by the way you were looking at him. “Do- do you- do you want to go back to sleep?”
You hesitated before answering him, mulling an idea over in your mind. “There is something I want.”
“Oh, yeah? What is it?” He was willing to do anything for you.
“Don’t want you to get sick.” You sighed.
He smiled. “I think we left that concern behind when I first got here.”
Your eyes widened. “No! Don’t make me feel guilty.”
“I’m not trying to.” Bob assured you. “But I doubt whatever you want is going to have a higher risk of getting me sick than me just sitting here next to you.”
You grumbled something underneath your breath to yourself.
“It’s okay. I don’t mind getting sick off of you.”
Maybe you were a lot in love with him.
So you let it burst out of you. “Wanna cuddle.”
Bob didn’t even respond to you, just scooped you up into his arms and maneuvered the two of you into the position he knew you liked - him on his back with you half on top of him and half next to him, one leg and one arm slung around him, your face buried his chest and head tucked under his chin, one of his hands moving to stroke up and down your arm, trace patterns across your back and comb through your hair.
He knew you so well.
You nuzzled your face against his t-shirt. “Thank you.”
He inhaled deeply. “You don’t need to thank me.”
“I want to. You didn’t have to do all of this.”
“Making you soup is nothing. It’s not like I’m giving you a kidney.” He paused. “Although I’d probably do that too.”
You chuckled against his chest. “What I mean is, most guys would’ve accepted my ‘I’m good’ text and carried on with their day. You didn’t.”
“Because I knew you were lying.” He reminded you.
“That’s my point. No one has ever known I was lying before.” You tilted your head up to look at him. “I’m glad you knew.”
“Me too.”
Bob wanted to kiss you but knew you’d kill him if he tried. So he settled for the smile he gave you that always made you look away nervously. Which you did, as predicted, and then swiftly fell asleep against him. He wondered how’d he’d gotten so lucky. Sure, he was caring for a sick person but it was the happiest he’d been in a long time. Which should sound ridiculous but to him it made more sense than anything.
He was knocked out of his thoughts when you whined lowly in your sleep and held onto him tighter. He smiled down at you and held you closer to his chest.
Bob knew then that he was a lot in love with you.
A/N: And we’re back!
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kimis-gloves · 21 hours
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Runnin’ Home to You: Part 2 - read pt 1 & 2 on ao3
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100 follower special!!
warnings: swearing, mostly fluffy plot and then they get it ON at the end, 18+/Mature Audiences. oral sex m!receiving, max speaking dutch😫
word count: 2681
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Max and Charles stood there. Charles was lost in the depths of max’s eyes, unable to find any words to say to him in this moment.
“I’m sorry I came so late. I didn’t mean to disturb you this way.” Max forced out, still unable to piece together exactly what he was doing inside of Charles’s apartment.
As Charles guides them back to the couch, he’s wondering what max could be apologizing for. Max was more than perfect for Charles and Charles would open his door for max at any hour for any reason, even if it meant pushing aside his aching heart to help someone whoo was a friend first.
“It’s okay, max. I’m not upset that you came. I’m glad you chose to come here rather than doing something dumb.”
“I dont know where I went wrong with kelly. I thought everything was perfect. I gave her everything she wanted, but in reality, I guess she just wasn’t everything that I wanted.”
“What do you mean max?” Charles questions, he along with everyone else, was under the impression that Max and Kelly were the duo, together forever, through thick and thin.
“I mean, is she inst the person I love, she int the person I long for after a hard race or a long meeting? Shas not the one I crave to smile and laugh with. I don’t feel the way about her that I feel like I should. I messed up so bad by loving someone who I wasn’t in love with. I dont know what to do Charles. Im for certain the one I love doesn feel the same way, and it hurts so bad. All I want to do is to show him how much he means to me, but I’m afraid that doing so will destroy my bond with him.”
“He?” Charles muttered, not even meaning to as he was so caught off guard. Max Verstappen is in love with a man?
“Yes, he, Charles. Im in love with a man and he doesn love me back, big surprise!” max said with a forced laugh, which wasn’t a laugh at all. Charles could hear through the laugh. He could tell that max was struggling so he could only do what he does best.
“So tell me about him,” he mumbled, with so much care to hear who this mystery man is that has max on such a grasp.
“Wha- Oh. Him. Well, to put things short, he’s everything I wish I could be. To me, he is my definition of perfect. Every moment I spend with him is like coming up for air after almost drowning. When I’m with him, I’m truly myself and I don’t see myself being that way around anyone else. The way he stares at me when we’re side by side, the look of hope in his eyes, just begging for me to let him by one time, hoping for a chance at something..”
As max carried on, Charles began to wonder who this person could be, he almost starts to get jealous that this person has obtained so much of max, parts of max that Charles thought he would never see until his thoughts are cut short by something max says
“... And god does he look fucking stunning in red”
And that’s when it hit him. Max was in love with Charles, and Charles was in love with max.
When max saw how Charles looked at him after he accidentally blurted out a crucial part of Charles’s identity, he feels his breathing start to deepen and his heart race faster than he’s ever gone in his car.
“Well, he sounds like a catch,” Charles chuckles with a quick wink in max’s direction.
“Yeah.. he really is, I guess”
“So, what are you going to do about it? You can’t know for sure until you ask him yourself and honestly max? Youre amazing. You have the best qualities a person could have, personally and physically. He would have to be stupid to not feel the same way about you”
Max hasn’t noticed how close Charles really is to him. He can hear the soft sounds of air escaping from his nose. Charles’s silence is something he could drown in for an eternity.
“Max, you okay? Do you nee-”
That’s when it hits max. Charles was talking about himself, of course he was! How could he have not noticed all along, how perfect Charles was with accepting him into his home in the darkest hours of the morning. He cuts the blue-eyed darling off with something Charles finds to be unexpected from max, to be so upfront with what he wants.
Max cuts off Charles with a kiss, not as passionate as max had hoped but soft and delicate, enough to hopefully convince Charles to kiss him back.
And he does.
Charles cups his hands on max’s jawline, opening his lips ever so slightly to invite max in. max adds a touch of appreciation by embracing the kiss and tasting the freshness of Charles’s mouthwash. He can’t help to think to himself what kissing Charles would be like when his mouth tastes like max.
As they come back up for air, the heavy breathing and light pink flush on Charles’s cheeks drives max absolutely mad.
“That’s what I’m going to do about it,” max utters, barely over a whisper as he can’t believe he just kissed the love of his dreams, and he kissed him back.
He finally admitted it. Charles thought all along that he was just being delusional, or crazy. But he knew that the way max grabs onto his waist way too early for way too long for a podium photo, or the way max smiles and blushes while he’s spraying Charles with the champagne of winners. Even how he chooses to talk to Charles over everyone else when he has the chance to. It was so obvious, but everyone told Charles not to believe what he thought. Max enjoying the view as drips fall from Charles’s features a bit too much, looking more Charles than Charles ever has.
But max however, looks fucking amazing right now. Lips puffy and panting, cheeks covered in a mild blush, and looking at Charles like he might explode if he doesn’t kiss him again.
So he does. Charles goes back for the second kiss. More desperate than the first and both clinging onto each other with a deep need for each other on themselves. Max pushes Charles lightly to lie down on the couch, but Charles insists on taking max into his bedroom as he would rather not fuck his dream guy on something that would take impossibly long to clean up. He’d rather wash his sheets. Charles finds himself getting off track as he’s leading max down the long hallway towards his bedroom.
Max admires the art Charles has displayed on the walls, as he also noticed Charles’s beautiful piano in a separate room along the way, he’s wondering just how beautiful Charles would look spread out, bent over the thing he adores so much, but not nearly as much as he adores max.
As soon as they both step into the well-decorated room, of course Charles has better taste than I probably will ever have. Max is thinking to himself.
He’s standing shyly in the middle of Charles’ room as Charles, painfully slow, makes his way towards max, resting his hands on max’s broad muscles.
“Do you know how badly I’ve wanted to tell you how much you are to me,” Charles says, voice deep and rasped with desire.
“What do you mean?” max knows exactly what Charles means, he just wants him to say it so that it can be real.
“What I mean is, I have had my eyes on you for so long, our entire lives max. What I mean is I have watched you grow into who you are and I’ve only fallen harder and harder as times gone on. The amount of nights I’ve spent thinking about the way you touch me with what I was made to think was simple innocence, friendly rivals, was actually so much deeper, and that means more than anything to me right now. More than a championship, more than my seat at Ferrari. I will do absolutely everything to make sure you are loved every day and to protect you and our relationship. Whether that means pretending like nothing has changed in front of the media, I will do it because if it means I get to have these moments with you, then I will do it happy.”
“Charles, i don't know what to say or how to say what i want to”
“Dont say anything, just fucking kiss me right no-”
That was everything Charles needed. He didn’t need words from max to know he felt the same because the way max immediately grabbed onto Charles’s waist, the familiar touch feeling so much more intense right now than it ever has bin. It’s filled with need and want from max, almost as if he’s hoping to never let go of Charles for the remainder of his lifetime. His tongue diving deep into Charles’ mouth, tasting everything Charles had to offer as if it was his last meal. He quickly pushed Charles onto his bed, letting him get himself comfortable before putting his obviously larger body on top of Charles’s.
“Youre wearing too many clothes,” Charles demands
“Oh- Okay..” max stumbles back, balancing himself somehow on his legs, which felt like jello after hearing everything Charles had to say.
“We don’t need to do anything. I do not want to pressure you, but you should know I’m a virgin”
Max was surprised that he was shocked at his. He didn’t want to assume anything, but he had thought Charles would’ve used his beauty to his advantage by now.
“I was hoping someday, this.. Would happen. I guess I was right,” Charles said with that cheeky smile that always made max go crazy.
“Well lucky you charlie, I am too.”
“But I thought you and kelly-”
“Never, it never felt right to do it with her. But this?? This feels so fucking incredibly right, Charles. I can’t explain, i just need to show you..” and that he did as he quickly removed the remainder of his clothes. Charles finds himself staring in awe at max’s built figure. Broad shoulders and a perfect shape, thighs that could kill him if he wanted to. Max feels his desire as he mumbles.
“hall die eraf” - *take those off*
“English please, Maxie,” Charles giggles, but blushing at the sudden rasp max’s voice always has when he switches to dutch
“I said take those [clothes] off. I don’t like to repeat myself so I suggest you listen close, charlie.”
“Yes sir”
“Sir? Thats new,” Max hums
“Yes.. sir” Charles says in a more sultry tone, hoping to tease max as he drops his shirt off, leaving both in just their obviously sponsored boxers.
“Jij bent zo mooi charlie..” - you’re so beautiful
“Max.. I can’t understand you” Charles pouts as max takes a few steps closer to him, eyes roaming all over his lean but controlled figure. He really does look so beautiful like this, only for max too.
Max takes a moment to admire the Monegasque before he pulls him in for a deep kiss, this time not lasting long before max finds his hands trailing down Charles’s bare body, leaving soft but wet kisses along his jawline, smelling him in a way he never has before.
Before max could stop him, he found himself being pushed onto the bed by Charles, sitting as he watches Charles drop down to his knees, meeting the level of his thighs, he rests his head down on max’s thick thigh & max ruffles through his hair for a second before Charles starts to leave small kisses along max’s thighs, slowly leading up to where his boxers. Charles gives a max a look that speaks more languages than max can while he’s drunk. Max nods in allowment as Charles struggles to pull the tight boxers over max’s thighs and ass. Max’s already hard large cock springs out and Charles lets out a small gasp, in excitement and in worry as to how he’s going to fit all of the max inside of his mouth, let alone anywhere else..
Charles watches attentively as max’s cock leaks pre cum when Charles starts to lick the base of his cock.
“Charles, please don’t be a tease.. I promise we will have so much time to try things. I just want to feel you right now, please mijn liefje” - my love
“Yes, Max,” Charles spits as he takes Max's cock in his mouth. He sucks on his cherry red tip as he tastes the slightly salty taste of max’s pre cum in the back of his mouth. There’s nothing that tastes as good as max does, as well as there’s nothing that looks as good as max does. His breathing growing heavy as he takes in this fresh sensation that Charles was giving him.
“You taste so good, Maxie..” Charles hums before deciding he’s ready to attempt to fit max’s length in his mouth.
“You don’t have to take it all at once, i get it, its pret-”
“Youre so big, max, I fucking love it. I can’t wait to feel it stretch me out n fill me up with your cum” Charles says with a whine that leaves a chill up max’s back, worsening as Charles takes him in his mouth again, this time going deeper and deeper until he’s reached the slight fuzz of max’s cleaned up pubic hair. he smiles- or at least tries to when he feels the tickles against his face as he's mildly gagging on max’s cock, there's nothing that he could be doing right now that he would enjoy as much as this. he could live with max’s cock down his throat. After a moment of getting comfortable, Charles starts to move his head up & down along max, letting his dick lay flat and heavy on charles’ tongue. The more Charles starts to see how desperate Max is, the more he gives him.
“oh- fuck char- fuccckkk-“ max hisses as he cant even create a sentence when all he can think about is how fucking good charles feels on him.
Accidentally jerking his hips up, charles pulls off of him and continues to stroke his cock with his left hand and that's when max notices that charles has been jerking himself off this entire time, both are painfully hard for the other as charles gives max those doe eyes that drive him mad. It's not long before Charles goes back to sucking on Max's length when Max has to let him know that he's not gonna last much longer.
“charlie please, baby, i'm not gonna- hnnn- not gonna last much longer..” Max whines
Pausing for a second, charles says lewdly “please finish down my throat maxie, i need to taste every bit of you..” and with that max did. a warm surge of thick & sticky fluid runs down his throat and as charles swallows it max cant help but stare in awe at how almost innocent charles looks after he just fucked his dick like that. soon after charles finishes himself and finds himself laying with max, not a word said but they know by now that words aren't necessary. they already know.
“Cha-“
“Quiet max, please. Its 5 in the morning, im fucking spent. Get some rest and we will talk about all of this tomorrow”
“Alright, Goodnight Charlie”
“Goodnight max”
With that, they both drifted to sleep with limbs entwined with limbs. heart beats & low, synchronised breathing filled the room along with an aura of belonging. This is where Max wants to spend the rest of his life, with charles. vulnerable and raw. all will be complete in the world of max verstappen as he sleeps, unknown to what would happen when he woke up.
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thank you so so much for 100 followers! i appreciate every one of you ❤️ i really hope you guys enjoyed this, i had fun writing it:) please lmk if you would like to see more of this duo & look out for new content soon!
likes, reblogs, comments & kudos on ao3 are always appreciated ❤️❤️❤️
- Alex
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jqhotchner · 3 days
Text
stars
six
aaron holds his wife close to him. she’s only just got home and he missed the smell of her lilac shampoo. yn meant everything to him! losing haley sent him in a dark path for a long time. in the divorce and when she was killed. it broke him over and over again.
aaron never thought he’d have the willpower to move on from his first love. he thought she’d be his one and only. he accepted that, for awhile.
but in comes this most amazing, breathtaking, beautiful, smart, kind woman who instantly stole his heart!
yn and aaron met during one of his cases. it had been in new york city and it turned out fashion week just so happened to happen during the time they flew in new york for a case. it was a happy accident.
aaron liked to call it faith. normally he’d be the first one out of the hotel, heading straight to whatever precinct the team had to be for the case. he’d deal with the crappy coffee they had and get on with figuring out who the unsub could be.
that day was no different. this time though, he wanted to treat himself to better coffee. plus, he had been craving a dunkins donut for awhile.
when aaron arrived to dunkin donuts he sighs at the long line in the drive through. aaron decided to just go inside.
walking in he sighs as he stands in line. aaron soon hears commotion outside and sees that some people stopped a woman and asked for photos and autographs.
aaron ignores the commotion. he orders his drink and a few donuts, before he heads out. he gets a small glimpse of the woman before getting back in his car.
aaron didn’t really think too much of it. that is until he sees her again later that night. the team had solved the case, arresting the unsub and finding the woman he kidnapped, bringing her home safely. the team wanted to celebrate.
normally aaron would decline the offer to come along, wanting to get a good night sleep before jetting off the next morning. this time he accepted. he didn’t know why, but his inner voice told him he deserved to go out and have fun.
they went to a small club derek had found. he watched as his team danced, laughing at derek’s smooth moves.
aaron takes a sip of his beer before excusing himself to the restroom. once he finished his business he heads to the bar. aaron sees a woman looking very uncomfortable while a guy tries to flirt with her. she tries to be polite, giving him a smile. aaron could tell he wasn’t really getting the hint. she politely declines his advances. the man grabs her arm a little to aggressive for his liking. aaron frowns before walking over to them.
“everything okay?”
“yeah, it is! back up buddy!”
aaron puts his hands in the small of her back. the woman looks at him with pleading eyes. aaron recognizes her from earlier that day.
“i wasn’t asking you.”
“listen, i was having a discussion with the pretty lady here! why don’t you leave!”
aaron grabs his badge. the guy raised his hands before leaving.
“thank you!”
aaron hums. “yeah, any time.”
the woman smiles at him. “that a real badge or are you an actor?”
aaron gives her one of his signature small smiles. “it’s real. fbi.”
“oh? how long have you been an agent?”
aaron scoffs. “i don’t even remember. it’s been so long.”
“you look oddly familiar. have we met?”
“saw you at dunkins. you were signing autographs. im assuming you’re a celebrity?”
she laughs. “you don’t recognize me?”
aaron shakes his head. “mostly listen to the classics. i am quite old.” aaron states.
“you don’t look that old mister fbi agent! but, yeah, i am! im barely famous though. have like three albums out right now. it’s one reason why i can walk freely in the streets of new york without being spotted too much.”
“you can call me aaron.”
“aaron, huh? very suiting for an fbi agent. i like that. my names yn. i go by my middle name though in the industry, rihanna.”
aaron smiles. “what brings you here in new york?”
“i was invited to a few fashion shows. since im up and coming people want me everywhere. it’s been a busy week for me.” yn states.
“i understand. traveling a lot, yeah?”
“mhm. you travel?”
aaron nods. “yeah, all the time. im a profiler! my job consist being in different locations all the time.”
“profiler? you’re in the big leagues then, huh? i heard you gotta be crazy smart to be considered.”
aaron laughs. “something like that. it’s mostly got to do with reading people, places, and things, you know? just looking a little deeper than others would. like studying it more.”
“okay mister profiler, let’s see how good you are at your job. profile me.” yn smirks.
aaron smirks.
“just by standing next to you i can tell you’re an amazing artist. you write music from the heart and release it for the world to know who you are and what you’ve been through. you underestimate yourself. you don’t think you’re good enough which is why you call yourself low leveled, yet you’re already being invited to big events, which means you’re getting way more attention than you’ve ever imagined.”
yn left speechless. she didn’t know what else to do or say. yn just stood there before blinking rapidly. “wow, you’re good!”
“it’s just from the few things you’ve told me. nothing major.”
“who’s underestimating themselves now?” she smirks.
aaron chuckles.
the two continues to chat for a while. they lost track of time. soon enough emily comes to find aaron, letting him know she’s taking derek and spencer back to the hotel. both of them drunk off their ass.
aaron lets her know he’ll be right behind them.
“it was great talking to you, yn.” aaron smiles as he goes to walk away. “aaron, wait!”
aaron turns around. yn hands him a piece of paper. “please, call me. i enjoyed talking to you.”
aaron smiles. he places the paper in his pocket before waving. the rest was history.
he was smitten that very day and continued to be smitten about her. he felt like haley brought them together.
they were perfect. his perfect little star.
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run-clever-boy · 1 day
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Can you write some snape x reader one shot ? Maybe something after war ? Or whatever you want 😁 Thank you.
Happy to! It’s what I’m here for :) Hope you like it! I’m so so so sorry for this taking forever. I’m gonna be honest it’s really hard for me to write for him so I’m trying my best babes! It’s not very long, but I would love feedback, and if you have suggestions I can do a rewrite!
He survived - Severus Snape
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Severus Snape x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Mostly fluff, mention of Severus’ near death, slight angst and comfort.
Summary: Severus retired from teaching and is opening a shop in Hogsmeade to sell his potions. You are currently still a teacher at Hogwarts and spend the weekend helping Severus prepare for the grand opening. (Set about 4 years after the war)
“Sev, I’m home!” You called out to the open space.
“Over here!” He shouts back. You walk toward his voice to find him organizing potion ingredients into his shelves. “How was the first week with the brats?”
“It went fine, it’s really odd not having you there” You go up to him and hug him from behind. “How close are you to being ready for the opening?”
“Pretty close, the one ingredient I’m missing is the bezoars. If Pippin’s Potions could get the supplies to me when they promised, we wouldn’t have this issue.” He sighs heavily, rubbing his forehead.
You get up on your toes and place a light kiss on his lips, hoping to relieve some worry. “Everything will be alright Sev, have patience.”
“Fine, I suppose you’re right.” He grunts out, kissing your forehead.
"Did you sleep last night?" You ask with a raised eyebrow.
He shrugs. You know he still has nightmares, flashbacks really, of the war. It’s been really hard for him to get past it. You are just now beginning to cope with the horrors you faced, so you can’t even begin to imagine what her went through.
You go up behind him and start to rub his shoulders. You could see him tense badly, but then he eased into it. He set down whatever potion he had in his hand and dropped his head back a little. You worked on the knots in his shoulders as he breathed heavily.
“Thank you, I really needed that” He says sincerely, placing a hand on yours.
“Let’s get this organizing done, shall we?” You pick up a box of potions and ingredients. “Lead the way”
He points at a nearby shelf labeled Healing and caries another box with you, barely containing his smirk.
▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄
You wake up in your bed in Hogsmeade, Severus nowhere in sight. You walk downstairs to the soon-to-be potion shop and see him fixing the order of some things.
“Good morning, Y/n” he says in his usual baritone voice.
“Good morning sev… uh… how did I make it to the bed last night?”
He chuckles to himself as he turns to face you.
“I kept you up pretty late helping get ready, you fell asleep on one of the new potion tables.”
“Oh sev, I’m so sorry-“
He holds up his hand “don’t be, the first week of classes is exhausting, I appreciate the help, love.” He walks toward you and places a chaste kiss on your lips.
“I didn’t see you in bed-” you start again
“Don’t.” He says pointedly, casting a fiery glare in your direction.
“Sev” You paused, knowing you’ve had this fight before. “You need help, you went through so much, I just want to help.”
He sighs, looking down from you. “I can’t help it, Y/n, I just can’t.” He places his hands on the edge of a counter and leans on them. “Every time I close my eyes all I can feel is…” he chokes up. Unable to say anymore.
You walk up to him and wrap your arms around his chest, sliding your hand into his hair and pulling him down into the embrace. You feel your clothes dampen from tears and your heart breaks. You whisper 'I love you' into his hair repeatedly, hoping he realizes how sincerely you have always meant them.
"What did I do to deserve you?"
“Everything”
You hold him tightly, not letting go until you know he has had enough. The comfortable silence envelopes you as you slowly separate from each other. You hold the sides of his face and plant a kiss on his cheek, backing up again to look into his eyes, just to double check that he is ok.
You grab a box and start heading toward the last of the empty shelves and he follows suit. You spend time carefully arranging each item into their respective shelves. Severus taught you his system, but you double check every details to make sure everything is exactly where it should be.
“The bezoars came in finally, love” Severus says with relief as he carries in a box from the front door. You knew he had been worried about getting all the supplies because of the shortage after the war.
You grab the box from him and go over to the ‘medicinal/healing’ section of the vast store, placing them in their respective positions, finally completing the last of the stock after many hours of work.
“I’m going to get some shut-eye before we open, wake me up so I can get ready, sev”
“Yes ma’am” he says, walking over briskly to give you a kiss before you go up to bed for some quick rest.
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You had never seen a shop more alive in Hogsmeade in a long time. You had also never been more grateful for the bedroom just upstairs for your energy boost. Your students, both new and old, came pouring into the shop with cauldrons in hand. Severus was working the floor. As usual, he was making sure each kid got what they needed and made sure “no brats can break my potion bottles”. You worked the register, which was now overflowing with customers. You saw some old friends and familiar faces as well. Harry and Ginny came to congratulate us, with Ron and Hermione not fair behind them. Narcissa came with Draco, which wasn’t pleasant, but you were able to keep them fair enough away from Sev to keep the civility going. Over all the business flowing better than you could’ve ever imagined.
“That will be 15 galleons please” You say in a very professional voice.
“Thank you so much! This is just a darling little shop here!” The older lady you are serving responds.
“Be careful” You lean in and with a low voice respond “You don’t want Severus to hear that!” Giggling with the lady as she gathers up her things.
You look over to him as she leaves. He is floating around the shop in his usual dark billowing robes. He moves effortlessly from place to place, clearly busy, but beautifully in his element. He turns and meets your gaze from across the room and a soft smile plays on his lips. Something tells you that he is going to be alright. Contempt in the life you two were given. Most of all, you were happy that he was yours. That he survived.
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pairing: Marcus Pike x reader
rating: just angst, hope you brought tissues
word count: 749
summary: Marcus never expected his world to fall apart with one phone call.
warnings: mention of drinking, kissing, nothing above PG though. reader has no physical descriptions other than wears a robe and some of Marcus's clothes. please lmk if i missed anything!!
a/n: my first submission for @beskarandblasters's Taylor Swift drabble challenge! i'm 100% a swiftie so i grabbed this with both hands and went running. this is based on the song Last Kiss sooooooo yeah it hurts 😅 oops. i do plan to write a second one so keep your eyes peeled for that if that's something your interested in?? this is only my second even piece for one of Pedro's characters and i have a particular soft spot for our Agent Pike so i hope y'all like it 🫣
Standing at the terminal, waiting for you to appear from the sliding glass doors, he checks his watch, then your flight information. It landed almost an hour ago, so where are you?
Just as the thought crosses his mind, his phone buzzes in his pocket, your name and picture lighting up his screen. He quickly answers.
“Hey, baby. I’m waiting outside your terminal, is everyth-”
“I never got on.”
---
He knew asking you to move to D.C. with him on such short notice was a stretch. You had your own life in L.A., how could he seriously expect you to just drop everything?
But you did. In a heartbeat.
Packing up your shared apartment was a blur. It mirrored the day you moved in: sitting on the bare kitchen floor surrounded by cardboard boxes, you wearing his t-shirt and a pair of his boxers, the waistband rolled so they sit higher on your thighs. You kept them when he flew out early to get your new place ready. Dropping him off at the airport, you held each other impossibly tight before sharing one last kiss and whispered “I love yous” against each other’s lips.
---
“Wait- baby, is everything okay? Did something happen?” Marcus tries to swallow his panic, fearing something had gone wrong with the airline or God forbid you’d been hurt.
“No. I just- I can’t. I’m so sorry, Marcus.”
“What d- what do you mean ‘can’t’? B-”
“It’s complicated. Just…I’m sorry.” His phone beeps as the call disconnects.
He stares blankly at the screen, 1:58 shining through the dark, taunting him.
What else can he do but just go home?
Marcus grabs a beer from the bare fridge and sinks to the floor, kicking off his shoes in the process. He stares out into the room. The space feels foreign now, hard and echoey. It’s mostly empty since you’d agreed to wait and do the bulk of the furniture shopping together. You’d loved the open floorplan, teasing him about having plenty of room for your impromptu dances. What should have been filled with warmth and laughter now just feels hollow.
He picks up his phone again, desperate to call you back and plead for answers. But you’d already given him one. You weren’t ready. When he asked you to go with him, he’d promised to honor whatever you felt. He just never planned on you changing your mind like this.
---
He throws himself into his work again. Some days, he’s okay. Others, he’ll come home enthusiastic after a big breakthrough and excited to tell you all about it until you cut him off with a kiss. He calls out to you, but your name dies on his lips.
Those nights, he’ll lie awake and scroll through your social media, careful not to accidentally like any of your photos. Dinners and drinks with friends. Fourth of July fireworks at the Santa Monica pier. But one picture stings worse than the others: a candid of you walking in the rain, your hands in your coat pockets, and a reflection in the window revealing a man behind the camera.
Marcus knows he shouldn’t have hoped that you just needed more time. That you’d wait for him until you were ready and then you’d come. He shakes the thought away before closing the app and turning off his phone, but he can’t fall asleep. His bed is too big, too cold. His own breathing in his ears is too loud, his heartbeat too heavy. He forces his eyes closed anyway, but they pop right back open. He snatches his phone off the bedside table and resumes his previous position, steeling himself for another restless night.
---
You’ve just stepped out of the shower when you hear your phone chime. Securing your robe, you perch on the edge of your bed and open the text.
I can’t forget you
Marcus’s name and contact picture at the top of the thread blurs as you blink back unannounced tears. You haven’t cried over this man in months, why now? Composing yourself, you look back down at the screen. You read those 4 little words over and over again, words stuck on the tip of your own tongue for so long but you forced yourself to never say. You finally notice the Read tag under the message, betraying your silence. He knows you’ve seen it.
Taking a deep breath, you type your response.
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gh0stsp1d3r · 18 hours
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Maybanks sister
Series masterlist
Chapter 6- you don’t need him
Summary: jj is struggling with the guilt he faces, Rafe and you help each other get through everything as always, and when Jj comes to apologize at tannyhill, how does Rafe feel?
Warnings: small short description of psychical abuse, slightly toxic!rafe, maybe ooc!jj?
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“Dad! Dad-“ you shouted, desperately trying to get him off of your brother. Your shout was gut wrenching, your voice cracking and your eyes full of tears.
You finally managed to get him off, and you saw Jj staring at you, his face bloodied. His eyes struggling to stay open.
“Oh my God… Look what you fucking did! Look!” You cried, quickly getting down onto your knees next to JJ, ignoring your father behind you telling you he’s not worth it.
“It’s okay, JJ. It’s okay. You’re fine.” You mumbled, mostly to yourself, wiping away the blood on his cheek and the drool that fell when his mouth hung open.
Your tears fell onto JJ, the memory forever engraved into yours and his brain. He was only 15 at that point, it was his birthday. You were 17.
You’d always protected him, always. He felt a strong sense of regret, having to fight the urge to turn back and come back to you, telling you he’s sorry. He was pulled out of the memory when someone came up behind him, a hand on his shoulder.
“You okay, man?” John B asked him, his eyebrows furrowed.
“Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine.”
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Rafe took you to Tannyhill, the ride was quiet the whole way.
And when he got there, Ward was standing outside, police cars and boats around.
You furrowed your eyebrows and looked back at Rafe. He held out an arm, telling you to stay in the car for a moment.
“I just saw Sarah.” Ward told him.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿
The next days, during the sentencing for John B, you and Rafe stayed in. He had become anxious, and you were the one to calm him down every time.
He had gotten to the point of multiple panic attacks, asking questions like what if they found out or what if they caught him.
“They won’t. They won’t, Rafe.” You whispered quietly, your hands on his face, and your eyes searching his. He looked down, shaking his head to himself.
When you saw the news that John B was captured and in prison, it had calmed Rafe down a bit. But a part of you felt bad.
That was your brothers friend, your brothers friend who you practically watched grow up with him, your brothers friend who had a crush on you in his awkward acne and braces phase.
You knew that JJ was planning a way to get him out.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿
“-They’re gonna eject you to the hospital. You remember cousin Ricky?”
“Cousin Ricky, the weed dealer?”
“He’s an EMT.”
“He sold us our first dime bag.”
“So? You can do both. Gig economy, bro.”
“Jesus.” John B sighed.
“Okay, but step 3 is extraction-“ Jj continued his plan.
“Times up.” Plumb spoke, interrupting the two.
“Yes, ma’am. You gotta trust me on this one.” Jj said, staring at John B. “Nothing to lose now. Eleven PM.” He stood up, and walked out.
He heard talking, when he suddenly saw a familiar face. He turned back, doing a double take, he stared out at the window, stepping closer.
He watched his father play basketball, and began banging on the door.
“Dad! Dad!”
“Let’s go.” Plumb said, grabbing him.
“Dad!”
“Let’s go.” She repeated, peeling him away from the window.
He turned back, his jaw clenched as he walked.
“I see what you did there, Plumb.”
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿
Rafe was speaking to his dad in the living room while you sat on the bed, texting back with your cousin.
You decided to tell him that Luke was in prison. He wasn’t very surprised. And somehow the topic went back to Jj.
“He’s an asshole, you know how he is.”
“I feel bad, tho.” You typed.
“Don’t feel bad, He’ll come back, I mean what’d you do for him to get pissed at you?”
“Pretty bad shit.”
“He’s always off doing pretty bad shit anyways. He’ll come back to you.”
“Hope so. Thanks Ricky.” You typed,
“Anytime.”
You shut off your phone, staring at the ceiling for a moment before you heard something hit the window. A rock.
You furrowed your eyebrows, turning your body, then standing up and looking out to see a small figure in the yard. Was that…
“Jj?” You mumbled to yourself, opening up the window. He waved.
“Jesus Christ.” You groaned, shutting the window and quickly gathering your stuff, and heading downstairs.
You opened and shut the door quietly, stepping outside and seeing JJ.
“What the fuck do you want, JJ?” You asked him, walking towards him. He stood, staring at you and back at the house behind you.
His hands were shoved in his pockets.
“You know dads in jail?”
“Yeah… so what?” You told him.
“And you didn’t think to tell me…?”
“I wanted to, J, but I couldn’t have-“
“Why? Why couldn’t you have, y/n?” His voice raising, you put your hand over his mouth.
“If any one of them hear you they’re gonna be fucking pissed. C’mon.” You mumbled, walking away from the house, but he stood there.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked again.
“Because, I thought you would blame me. I just found out not that long ago, and I didn’t know how to tell you.” You spoke, your back to him. You turned around now.
“I wouldn’t have blamed you.”
“Is that why you came? To just say that?”
“No. I’m sorry. I- I said some shit back at the dock… shit I didn’t mean…” he paused. “And I’m sorry.”
Your eyes widened at his words. It was rare for him to apologize like this. It was silent for a little.
“You have to get it, that I just… why him?” He asked, referring to Rafe.
“Because he’s the one who was there for me when no one else was. He was there for me when you weren’t.”
He stayed quiet now.
“But I get why you weren’t. Looking back at it, I haven’t treated you the best either. You’re my younger brother. And I should have protected you more-“
“Don’t.” He spoke up, quietly. “You did-“
“Well, what do we have here? Maybank, don’t you know you’re trespassing?” Rafes voice interrupted, stepping down to the both of you.
You both turned around at the voice.
“I was just on my way, cupcake.” He clicked his teeth, and turned around.
Rafe was behind him quickly, a hand on his shoulder, tightly gripping it.
“Don’t come near here again.” He whispered into his ear. “I will fucking shoot you on sight.”
“Mmm.. I’ll look forward to it. I would love to stay and join your tea party… but I have some other shit to get to.”
“You have some nerve showing up here, JJ.” He shouted when he began to walk away, Jj flipping him off from behind his back.
“Rafe, he was just-“ you began.
“Do I need to remind you that he was the one who made you cry like a fuckin’ baby the other day?” He turned to you now.
You were taken aback at his words. Stepping back as he walked towards you.
“I told you, you don’t need him. Or anyone else.”
“He’s my brother, Rafe…”
“And when has he ever done anything good for you?”
You stayed silent. He walked closer, a small sigh escaping his mouth. You slightly flinched when his hands went up. They made their way to your face, cupping it.
“I’m just trying to protect you, baby. Don’t want you getting anymore hurt than you already have been by him, or anyone else.”
Taglist:
@cassie0sstuff
@rafesgiirl
@fals3-g0d
@tiaamberxx
@callsignwidow
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meowsgirldrawing · 9 hours
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Part 2 to my MC (Obey Me NightBringer) angst post: (Since so many people wanted part 2’s idea)
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You can hear a pin drop, even though they stood on what was mostly carpet flooring.
All the brothers had vaguely dissimilar reactions to Solomon’s words. Or at least the ones he started up with once he crossed the hallway and joined the others with Mammon in the next room. They heard his words, but their questions, their concerns got coiled up with the silence that followed.
Lucifer had a deep frown, eyes hiding his deciphering mind as he stood arms crossed tightly with one another. If MC were there, they’d be able to see how his chest is a tad slower in rise and falling, as if taking each shaky breath is hard to do and cover at the same time.
Mammon stood beside Solomon, perhaps the only one sensible to make sure he still talks without letting their emotions interfere. He’s not protecting him per-say, just making sure his younger brothers know to keep themselves in check and wring the sorcerer later. Yet he’s not too far off himself. Only one person and Lucifer could tell he’s one string away from shifting into his demon form. So consider his stance as a two way message.
Leviathan is the only one sitting, or still is. Curled in a ball, he’s staring wide eyed at the human. His skin tingles and he’s shifted in his demon form already, but it’s mostly a way to ground himself ironically. He’s not a defensive less weirdo, he’s a demon! A lord! He can handle this!…Handle hearing what’s happened to MC-his Henry…right?
That’s where Asmodeus comes into play, his eye catching the transformation and immediately places himself at Leviathan’s shoulder. His fingers, polished nails he just redone with MC and Satan yesterday night just before retiring to bed, crease into his brother’s hoodie with a gentle rub. It’s ok. Everything will be alright. Solomon will just tell them what they need to do and they’ll all be fine! They’ll get their sweet MC back, all nice and healthy and happy! Besides, they just can’t leave without him trying that new club.. they have something to look forward to, with him, with his brothers…right?-Right! He ignores how his throat constricts at the very opposite ideas blinking through this head, and focuses on the only other human he’s made a pact with.
Satan is silent, a calculating glint in his eye. He stands nearly just as still as Lucifer, on the side with the twins, claws gripping his hips, If MC was here, they’d probably joke how he looks like an angry dad about to give the lecture of a lifetime. What Soloman said… it doesn’t make sense. MC was in the house before night fell. He’s knows for a damn fact, he’s the one who walked them home himself. He offered to walk with them after the meeting, despite Mammons complaints and Belphie’s pouts, as he had to check his personal library for something ideally for a project. They had fun, pet and fed the stays on the way, stopped by a quick ice cream joint, and ended their walk by ending up in his room to study. His last look at them was them rubbing their eyes, careful of the still drying nails from Asmo dropping in unexpectedly, and sending them both a sleepy goodnight and see ya later as they set off for bed. It was late when they went to bed. Something’s not adding up..
Oh..But if you thought the older brothers were bad...
Beel is the only thing keeping Belphie calm on the outside. His hand an anchor over his shoulder, arm curled around his back in a gentle but firm grip. The twins listen to Soloman with an intensity that can burn Devildom itself to the ground.
Belphie's relationship may be shaky, maybe be sometimes tense as they try to move on from the past. But by his not- father does the Avatar of Sloth want to rein hell on whoever dares touch the human that helped him mend back into his brothers' lives. Into Beel's life. He may look pouty, may look bored. But anyone that knows Belphie knows a plan is forming behind his eye. They will find MC. And the fuckers who came up with such a funny prank.
Beel feels..lost in this type of situation. One day he's having dessert with the human who teases him about his weird choices in ice cream, one he quickly and smoothly throws it back at them with their odd choice in cake flavors. Before the two ultimately breaking into giggles as the human baps at his back and he's swallowing down his bite with a grin. The next day, next morning...gone. Silence at their open chair, vacant and untouched like it was before they came to devildom. It's not right, they should be here. Should be there with him and his brothers. Diavolo..what happened to them??
"That can't be possible.." Satan immediatly dismisses, a dower in his tone. His nose crickles at the idea.
MC? Lost in time? But they weren't near anything like that! And MC can't even cast spells, much less accidentally do such a thing.
Lucifer can't help but agree. "Since MC arrived, the House of Lamentation has been put under a strict spell to ward off curses or shifty matters that can harm MC." He scrutinizes at Soloman, the man himself staring back with a raised brow as if really? "Theres no way something snuck past it's defenses long enough to get to MC. I'd be able to tell."
"You'd probably would have, but this...force. It's unworldly." Soloman's fingers play at his chin, " I've been looking all over Devildom but as soon as I wandered towards this house, I felt something overwhelming. Especially around where MC's room resides." His eyes flick up, stern and a 'I know what I'm talking about' tone dosed in them.
"Something, or rather someone, took MC and threw them into the past. Your past, right after the Celestial War if I have my readings right." He gets out as Mammon shifts beside him.
Just..after the Celestial War? Wait...Oh shit-
Mammon's head shoots to Lucifer, "That means-"
Lucifer already knows, "MC is possibly with our past selves."
As if that sentence alone can strike the biggest blow on the brothers, then next one is the killer. Levi can barely breathe, same for his brothers- Asmo's nails unintentially dig into his shoulder but he could care less- as Soloman shakes his head. "They are with your past selves."
Things calm down, a meeting is made with Diavolo and the rest of their searching group, and it's decided ironically that the Sorceror himself will go. As much as they don't want to, most agree he's the best candidate. Simon and Luke are already a big no. Angels randomly staying in devildom for a long, undisclosed time? Following around whatever MC is covering as? It would be a sore thumb, obviously fishy. Nevermind if they could protect MC or not.
Yeah Luke pouted big time on that one, but after a hug from Beel, he calmed down some. Now he's just holding onto his jacket as the others discuss ideas in front of the two.
Most, like Diavolo, Raphael, Mephistopheles, as well as Thirteen all have jobs to attend to, some especially in need to keep stable for the sake of Devildom or the Celestial Realm. Barbatos would have gone, the idea given by Diavolo, if not for his counter of the other Barbatos able to sense him right away if he came to MC's aid.
Similar reasons for the brothers, as much as they detest it. It would not be good for anyone involved if any of the brothers were to be seen by their other selves. More trouble than needed just to rescue MC from a certainly unusual but equally terrifying fate.
Soloman's past self was never around much in the beginning anyway, so the chances of meeting him are much, much slimmer. Besides, Soloman is crafty, calculating in his every move, and cares well enough for MC as the rest to put their safety as first priority. So, yeah, they can trust him enough.
"Better bring them back in one piece, Sorcerer, otherwise I'll have that soul faster than you can breathe anything coherent." A light threat from Thirteen, eyes as slit as a cat's, her fingers drumming on her hips.
Light castaways from Soloman's hand, he smiles as he starts the spell by Barbatos's help. "Like I'd do anything else."
Lucifer's eyes narrow, "Of course." It comes right off as sarcastic.
With that, and a few additional words from the future King asking for both him and MC to come back safe, Soloman is off. Disappearing into a flash of light, leaving no trace like he was never there.
Bonus---
The next few weeks are....tense to say the least.
Each of the brothers had mixed feelings on the whole thing as whole.
Lucifer sticks to his usual routine. Keeping his brothers safe and in line, helping in Diavolo's plans for the school, and all around just trying to douse the flames of chaos from MC's unexpected disappearance. He shows as fine and stern as usual Lucifer goes by, but the very few, Mammon and Diavolo mainly, know it's merely a front the majority of the time. His days feel longer, colder, while his nights are double. Every night before bed, he stalks the House of Lamentation, checking on each and every one of it's inhabitants, and as he rears to MC's room, it's uncanny vibe of no owner, back to the way it was before they dropped into Devildom, he sees no one but the usual, sleeping face of one or multiple of his brothers. The only sight that warms his silent yearning. Even if for just the night.
In the daytime however, people can tell theres a new...edge to him now. Working together with Diavolo and Barbatos, the two help Lucifer without question on finding who the hell decided to send the human they all have inclination towards. MC help bring Lucifer and his brothers back together, MC has gone above and beyond for a program Diavolo honestly some little doubts about himself and washed them away even after being dropped in unexpectedly. And for Barbatos, the two themselves aren't sure, but they can tell it's not just because it's his duty as his Master's right hand man to help out with. So they search, and while Lucifer usually has doubts on his brothers' help on any matter that could affect the standing of the program, for once he doesn't hold their leashes and hopes they do as they please. They will find the miserable pest, he's sure of it.
The Mammon outside the House of Lamentation is scarily different from the one inside. The outside one is loud, money-grubbing, and just as troublemaking as he always is. Gambling and dealing with witches as he always has, the Avatar of Greed shows no difference despite the obvious missing human every student and teacher of RAD occasionally sees attached at his side. No whispering at the back of class, no loud shouts of nonsense at the lunch table they claimed as their own, no equal calls of their name as one tries to catch up with the other in the halls afterschool. Not even at the clubs, the missing human who'd usually be on his lap or at his side as he gambles away with a spikey grin. Nor dancing along with him as he would twirl or be twirled despite his flustered acts. Its like MC never existed and he's as what he once was. Yet, if people looked close enough, they'd see something shifting in his much more observant eyes, taking in his surroundings more often with a pitch of rage that hides behind his blues. He's still searching, still trying to find the lowly fucker who thought taking his greatest treasure was the best fucking plan in the world. They are sure to show soon, he damn well knows it.
As his daytime is a mock show of indifference, the house is quiet and chaotic in the not so fun ways. He tries to keep his brothers together, but all of them can see he's close to loosing it at times. No one teases, or judges, or even glances twice as they watch him go to the human's room instead of his for bed. Curled in their blankets or simply leaning on the headboard, eyes not as bright and blue as they should be. No one likes a quiet Mammon, but no one knows what to do either, so they let the older brother do as he will.
Leviathan..oh man. He's gotten better since the first few weeks of hell for them, but he's not his usual self either. He clings more to his room like usual, watching MC's favorite animes they've clicked to on their nights of choosing, suddenly getting reasons why they've enjoyed some of them. Most have happy endings. Most end with characters having either fond or bright smiles stretched across each of their faces. He can't watch the best friend scenes though sometimes, it hurts too much and makes him hug the stuffed snake squish-mellow they gave him. On the opposite end of the silent sobs into said pillow or staring into nothing with such vacant eyes as tears stream down his cheeks, making them look red and irritated at breakfast in the morning- which he barely comes to anymore, Mammon has to drop off his plate- The Grand Admiral of Hell is at play. Using his known skills as a strategist, he expands the search for the one that brought this hell upon him and his family. Interrogations, warnings towards suspects he has on a special list of powerful people, the true show of a snake ready to strike at every ready moment and everything around it can be a target. And if anyone questions, "Why do this all for a human anyway?" He always has a good answer, people would just simply need to drown for him to let it be known. Because they're his and his brothers' human.
If people think Lucifer is terrifying, just wait till you see his wrath, or well the person who was born from it anyway. Satan may have a charming smile, a easy flow of his words, a spark to his eyes that can make even the strongest swoon. Yet it's his greatest tool as he looks for the person responsible. Similar to Mammon, he's just less loud. He goes through each and every connection, spanning their connections and slinking through them all. And if any show signs of deception or as if they have something to share, he's lucky to finally use Lucifer's basement key at last. While most of his nights, some leading into the day, he's cool amongst his brothers. Possibly the most composed looking of them all besides Lucifer. Sure he talks a little less, his words may come off short or a bit tense here and there. But his cool facade is well put together. He actually helps Lucifer with the student council stuff, or at least lays off him to make it easier. MC was able to help mend their relationship into something better, something that makes him secretly enjoy Lucifer as an older brother as much as he'd deny it. Yeah they aren't the bestest of friends or brothers, and their relationship shift is still new, shaky, but it's better than it's ever been. And he won't use this as an opportunity to break it, no. MC trusts him to be smart and do the right thing, and he will. He just hopes his past self will have enough sense to listen to them, cause if he remembers his past correctly, the beginning of his life..He knows they are in a world of new challenges with that version of him alone. He just has to trust them like they do him, until they meet again. And they will if he has any words to say about it.
Asmo...he's..ok. He's used to putting on masks, putting up a pretty face and smiling to whoever wants it. But if anyone knows Asmo, the real one, he's a fucking mess. He goes to parties and night clubs, giggling and laughing with his fellow demons, but when he's alone. Sitting in the cold area him and MC usually occupy on their late night escapades together, he's silent, tapping the rim of his drink with a bored and colorless expression. A few of his friends stop every now and then and he throws up a smile and sweet rings of "Darling" or "Dear" left and right. But he tends to leave earlier than he usually does, ignoring the small pleas of his friends asking him to mingle longer. He merely says things like, "My dear big brother Lucifer might track me down if I don't." or "My human needs their favorite demon, but don't worry, I'll see you all later <3!" and as soon as the music leaves his ears, the doors slamming shut behind him, he's back to a world of greys instead of pink and flowery. There's admittedly a few nights Lucifer has actually had to track him down, finding him drunk off his ass in the corner of clubs, a wide smile despite the obvious ruins of his mascara greeting his older brother with such fake enthusiasm that has Lucifer frowning knowingly. Those nights he ends up either curled up on his big brother's bed, an easy way for Lucifer to keep an eye on him or tucked into his own sheets as he watches Lucifer grab the pain killers and cup of water from Mammon's hands before burying his heated face into the pillow MC's borrows on their sleepovers. Depends on how wasted he is honestly. It's one of the reasons why Mammon's keeping a bigger eye on him especially. Leaving with him to the clubs or shops he wants despite also wanting to work his charm in the search for the culprit. Which, despite his insistence, all his older brothers tell him to let them handle it. Sure, he has ways to help, but who knows what the person is capable of. So he reluctantly agrees. Somewhat. He's looking himself. Any person who isn't MC, his brothers, or their inner circle of friends is a suspect and Asmo is more than a pretty face afterall. He just has to use his charm a little here and there, he's sure, and the person will drop to their knees quick enough for him to find them. If not, he's always got his claws nails as backup. He's always enjoyed red as a nice shade <3.
Good news, Beel isn't as hungry as before. Bad news, he's not eating as much as he really should. It took about a week and a half to notice, but the moment Mammon set down the plate infront of Beel, and he looks at it and goes "I'm not hungry." is when everyone got concerned. Like. Terrified. He feels some bit of hunger, yes, but eating anything, all when MC could be going through hell with their past versions (especially the version of him who didn't have as much of a leash on his hunger as he does now) it makes any bit of hunger go away instantly at the thought of MC in trouble. At the thought that someone or he could be...Just the idea makes him want to vomit. His brothers, pointingly Belphie and Mammon, all try to get him to eat and while he does some, it's not nearly as much as he used to. Satan leaves him extra snacks while passing by him after his bookstore run, Leviathan drags him to movie nights, suddenly having a near buffet style snack pile in the middle of the two. One that Leviathan barely touches but Beel is too focused on the story to notice honestly. Asmo doesn't seem to do too much, but he certainly has taken up doing more baking around the kitchen, always texting Beel first who 50/100 feels conflicted on agreeing or not. Lucifer has once threatened to chain him to the table until he eats but relents when Beel just stares down at the plate before glancing to the vacant seat at his side. Eyes holding an internal battle inside. Belphie, to Beel's surprise, dragged a whole ass bag of mid-night treats to their room, and set it on his dresser. Telling him point blank, MC wouldn't want him, especially him of all people, to starve himself. Besides, how will he protect MC when they're back if he's too weak from low nourishment? While Belphie hates poking at the protective side of Beel, the side that has always put his twin in the most complicated feelings/situations, it's the side that wins over and makes him grab one of his favorite treats. Sure, he may not be scrounging the low lives of Devildom, or sending fleets of his contacts from all around in search of the culplit, but he's making damn sure the moment they find him, they'll wish they never looked in their human's direction ever. And that's the only thing besides the support from his patched together again family that helps him through the colder nights. And the cheeseburger pillow MC gave him that he holds tight to his chest every night.
Belphies....not the best. Not Asmo not best or Mammon, but, let's just say Lucifer is getting flashbacks to when he threatened to end an entire species in mourning of his sister. Yeah, that not best. The things that cicles through the youngest's head is unrelenting words he used to spout constantly when he first came to devildom, his unrelenting grief over loosing his sister and times in the Celestial Realm, and above all, his absolute hate for humankind. The way he was before was nothing like Satan, no, but he defiantly was nowhere near a ray of sunshine either. I mean, he isn't now half the time, but at least he has more common sense and pushed past all the negative hate to see that humans weren't the reason his sister was gone. They may have been a factor in the catalyst, but they were nowhere near at fault. Hell, one just loved his sister without even knowing she was an angel to begin with. And she loved him back, and while Belphie (Despite his own simple love for humans) couldn't understand the type of love she shared with the mortal. Now, he does. Now he's willing to do whatever it takes to get that unexpected human back, no he's willing to act like a sleepy Avatar of Sloth during the day, and stalks the dreams of the sleeping at night. As he checks his brothers dream, lately nightmares he tries to soothes silently with dreams of similar times, as he watches over his twins and bats away every bad thought or image that strikes his way, he's searching and planning. He conjures every dark nightmare he can, every fear, every gut retching image that could make even the Demon King himself wince in disgust. And as for MC themselves, they cloud his mind every waking moment he has allowed to think to himself. He's seen first-hand that it'll take more than just claws and teeth to take that human down for good, and as much as it makes his own gut clench with disgust and self-loathing at himself, enough to sound like Levi's twin instead, he just uses it as reassurance that whatever his past self throws at them, they can handle it. And if not, surely his brothers will for them.
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So I've got some thoughts for my RvB gang.
I had a thought recently. I found Sharkface to be an extremely boring villain. Like he was cool(ish) and the jokes about how edy he was trying to be were funny(ish) but. You know who would have been more fun? The dude with the robot arm.
Think about it - the guy was shot by Carolina and left behind on a drilling rig that blew up, and survived. He tanked a MAC round from orbit and all he lost was his right arm. They've set up a perfect villain here. Claiming he literally can't die would be so funny! Every time he appears he dies, then he just shows back up with yet another robotic prosthetic. His whole subplot is that he just desperately wants to die, and he finally figured out that the pyramid thing is his only shot at finally getting his wish. The problem is that he would also wipe out the rest of life as we know it if he did that.
Anyway, the background subplot is what's really important here. Carolina is being hunted down by a shadowy figure. Evidence points to him being another hired gun working with the pirates. He is always half a step behind her, getting closer and closer to tracking her down.
Eventually in the climax, the hitman catches up to Carolina. They go through an intense duel, where he seems to be able to anticipate all of her best moves and counteract them. Finally, she manages to hit the guy hard enough to knock off his helmet.
It's York.
Then we get some backstory - when York was shot going after Wyoming, Delta turned on his healing unit. He then told Tex that York was dying. As soon as she left Delta woke York back up, got him to swap armor with one of the grunts, and disappear.
So York spent several months slowly recovering. During that time, life finally beat him. He didn't have his armor, he didn't have his healing unit anymore, and he didn't have Delta to keep him coming. He finally gave up on the dream of finding Carolina alive somewhere.
So instead, he decided it was high time someone finally killed Director Church. He would kill the man who took everything he'd ever loved - admittedly, in a roundabout sort of way - from him. Only when he tracked the director down, he found hundreds of dead Allison lookalikes and archive footage of yet another cheap robot replacement killing the Director - except this time Church went to far. He made a replacement of her. He couldn't even let his own daughter's memory find peace.
So, York ended up with a new goal: kill the robot that had stolen Carolina's face (armor). End it once and for all. Bring some closure for the girl that he loved so much but never got to keep.
After all of this revelation, we finally get York and Carolina's big happy ending. I don't know how they beat the immortal robo guy, but mostly I just care about my Yorkalina angst and resolutions.
Anyway. I'd love to hear anyone's thoughts. And... should I write this at some point? Let me know.
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Note
This is a little different from your usual content. But you have so much niche information that just I love to hear about. Do you have any podcast recommendations?
WHOO okay so I'm doing my nonfiction podcast recs and leaving out my horror or audio dramas but without further ado:
It's been out of production for years, but Caustic Soda is probably my favourite of all time. It's a small Canadian production of tons and tons of episodes on everything from shark attacks to murder to warfare to bugs and anthropology. It's so fucking funny and pretty well-researched as time goes on. Honestly, I was so young listening to this that it formed part of the lens through which I view the world.
Stuff You Missed in History Class: Often corny, wee bit lame, occasionally hilarious, always solid; this one is probably the one that has taught me the most. It's been on the air forever now, and it's really fucking great. They have also used sources that I actually dug out and made public for the first time and I'm quite proud of that. Its the favourite sweater of podcasts.
Time to Eat the Dogs is about the history of science and exploration. I highly recommend it if you like any of those things. I really like the host's interview style; all the guests are academics and authors. It's very conversational and feels like having a lovely sit-down with good friends, but those friends have Ph. Ds.
Casting Lots: Two really, really funny Brits discuss survival cannibalism across time and space. This podcast informed me that a story i heard as a fireside tale was based on true events. It somehow manages to mention Canada in every other episode and then some. I love the first three seasons in particular. They have truly done some incredible work in the course of their series and pulled from some primary sources that surprised even me, an actual archivist. They're shockingly respectful for how funny they are and how disturbing the content is and really take into consideration things like culture, empire, sex and racism as they discuss cannibalism, and it's just. I love it so much, truly.
Big Old Boats: It's not technically a podcast, but I've never once in my life actually watched the video as he discusses various maritime disasters, and I don't think I've ever missed anything by doing so. This is an absolute must-listen if you enjoy maritime history, missing ships, ghost ships, or just anything weird related to a boat. Archival work I did is actually mentioned in a couple of episodes!
Not What You Thought You Knew: Another podcast I really love that was, unfortunately, a very short run but academics and actual historians debunking popular historical myths. I am very, very fond of the episodes on The Night Witches in particular.
The Midnight Library: Last but not least my favourite fucking podcast currently running. It's a nonfiction podcast framed as a fictional witch/librarian in her cursed library telling (mostly) true stories around a particular theme, human vice, or any number of stories. And the way it's framed is so fucking great. Like they're talking about real history, witchcraft and folklore in so many of these, but you get little glimpses of world-building that have honestly started to bleed into the way I write. Even the ads are for fake magical businesses like 'the League of Lady Grave Diggers, the Broom and Fang pub. The library assistant/bouncer is a werewolf. The Witch's on-again and off-again boyfriend is a spring-heel jack. It's just so fucking clever a way to frame a nonfiction podcast in a spooky atmosphere while being historical, terrifying and funny in turns.
Anywho, if you listen to any of them let me know! And sorry if that went overboard!
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glamgoblin · 2 years
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I swear everyone in this show responds to trauma by becoming mean or violent and then there’s Tankhun who responds by making himself the safest possible person to be around
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!!!! Something in my life went well for once!!!! Details in tags (slightly hindered by tag limit)
#so my romantic life has been a fuckin shitshow for years and even more so in the past few months#but i meet this guy at work last week who I really clicked with#we both got drinks at a sort of evening event nearby (the chalet at mass MoCA for those of you who know) after work last week#i ended up meeting a lot of new people and talking a LOT with him which was lovely#it was the most social I've been in months and i really enjoyed myself#and like. i gave him my number after work (which was how i ended up going to this thing in the first place) and afterwards??? he texted me#telling me he was really glad to see me there and he had a great time#and through our conversation i got indirectly invited to come over to his place and make/drink homemade wine spritzers (my recipe)#and at first i wasn't totally sure if this was a making new friends thing or maybe something more?#he's about 6.5 years older than me and we'd only talked twice (once at work and once at the thing) so it could've just be friendly#but we had that wine spritzers date last night and hung out for like. over 4 hours?? mostly just talking#oh boy did we talk about fuckin everything. he also told me I'm a very beautiful person in the course of that conversation#which... not many people have done in the past couple years. i can think of maybe one or two. so it's a big thing for me#and when we went inside to watch a few episodes of a show he recommended#he turned to me after the first couple episodes (which we were intermittently talking through)#and very matter-of-factly said can i ask you something? and when i said yes he said how do you feel about cuddling?#and of course my touch starved ass who already had a developing crush on him immediately said I'm a big fuckin fan of it#and we just. sat and watched like three more episodes of this show like that. very comfortably.#mostly holding hand(s) while he had his arm around me and i had my head on his shoulder (which was lovely)#but also??? with his hand between my thighs??? not doing anything but just like holding my leg#and we were like that for most of the last episode and a half of this show#and that was it! it got late and we both had to work so I left a bit before midnight#we chatted a bit and he hugged me on my way out but it wasn't anything more than that#and y'all. i fuckin. the slow pace? the honest and open communication? the clear respect of me and my boundaries but also attraction to me?#((which i barely comprehend btw))#god its so nice to be into someone whos also into me who's like. older and at a semi similar level of emotional and mental stability?? wild#so yeah im. very much reveling in the least dramatic and most wholesome slowburn of a romantic entanglement ive had in my entire life#GOD. to be treated like an ADULT by another ADULT. it shouldnt be this crazy but it really truly is.#ive had no choirs by florence in the machine stuck in my head since i walked home and its exactly everything i feel rn#personal
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thebibliosphere · 6 months
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So, anyway, I say as though we are mid-conversation, and you're not just being invited into this conversation mid-thought. One of my editors phoned me today to check in with a file I'd sent over. (<3)
The conversation can be surmised as, "This feels like something you would write, but it's juuuust off enough I'm phoning to make sure this is an intentional stylistic choice you have made. Also, are you concussed/have you been taken over by the Borg because ummm."
They explained that certain sentences were very fractured and abrupt, which is not my style at all, and I was like, huh, weird... And then we went through some examples, and you know that meme going around, the "he would not fucking say that" meme?
Yeah. That's what I experienced except with myself because I would not fucking say that. Why would I break up a sentence like that? Why would I make them so short? It reads like bullet points. Wtf.
Anyway. Turns out Grammarly and Pro-Writing-Aid were having an AI war in my manuscript files, and the "suggestions" are no longer just suggestions because the AI was ignoring my "decline" every time it made a silly suggestion. (This may have been a conflict between the different software. I don't know.)
It is, to put it bluntly, a total butchery of my style and writing voice. My editor is doing surgery, removing all the unnecessary full stops and stitching my sentences back together to give them back their flow. Meanwhile, I'm over here feeling like Don Corleone, gesturing at my manuscript like:
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ID: a gif of Don Corleone from the Godfather emoting despair as he says, "Look how they massacred my boy."
Fearing that it wasn't just this one manuscript, I've spent the whole night going through everything I've worked on recently, and yep. Yeeeep. Any file where I've not had the editing software turned off is a shit show. It's fine; it's all salvageable if annoying to deal with. But the reason I come to you now, on the day of my daughter's wedding, is to share this absolute gem of a fuck up with you all.
This is a sentence from a Batman fic I've been tinkering with to keep the brain weasels happy. This is what it is supposed to read as:
"It was quite the feat, considering Gotham was mostly made up of smog and tear gas."
This is what the AI changed it to:
"It was quite the feat. Considering Gotham was mostly made up. Of tear gas. And Smaug."
Absolute non-sensical sentence structure aside, SMAUG. FUCKING SMAUG. What was the AI doing? Apart from trying to write a Batman x Hobbit crossover??? Is this what happens when you force Grammarly to ignore the words "Batman Muppet threesome?"
Did I make it sentient??? Is it finally rebelling? Was Brucie Wayne being Miss Piggy and Kermit's side piece too much???? What have I wrought?
Anyway. Double-check your work. The grammar software is getting sillier every day.
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tdkeh · 9 days
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...
#i am so burnt out#2024 has been a constant stream of stress#found out one dog has kidney disease and had to switch all her food etc to slow the kidney failure#then my dad had a gallbladder issue that sent him to the hospital where other health things quickly went south#hes finally starting to improve *knocks on wood*#but then i had to take my other dog to the vet for an emergency look at her 'good' eye#turns out she has glaucoma in both and is now on 4 eye drops 2-3x/day#theres a chance she might have to have them both removed 😭#im just feeling really incompetent as a dog owner that i didnt know how bad it was#i didnt even know dogs could get glaucoma#and it doesnt help that while researching it i found out its 'extremely painful in dogs compared to humans' so like fuck#my poor little dog has been fucking suffering through extreme pain for possibly weeks and i couldnt even tell??#i know dogs dont present pain the same way as humans but that doesnt change the fact that she felt it all along even if she couldn't show it#shes been mostly blind in her left eye since her issues a year or two ago. but the right ('good') eye went down fast#and shes been a clumsy little thing since birth so her kinda fumbling around recently didnt set off any particular alarm bells#until yesterday when she suddenly acted like she *really* couldnt see where she was#i just feel so fucking guilty that i didnt notice sooner. i hope the eye drops are working#as long as shes not in pain. thats the most important part#not even getting into my own health and work stress on top of everything else#i just want to cry and cuddle my dogs and cry some more#personal#do not reblog
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exopelagic · 5 months
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one day I’ll stop vagueposting abt The Guy but that day is not today
#combination of him being weird again today and finding the notes I wrote when it was happening#i went and sat with our mutual friend before a meeting earlier which was fine#and then when I leave I see him on the other side of this divider thing just out the corner of my eye#so he was definitely avoiding me! I now have confirmation bc he’d been with other friend during the class before#and if it was anyone else I know for sure he would’ve said hi to her#banking on plausible deniability bc I walked pretty quick and didn’t turn around it’s not unreasonable to assume I didn’t see him#but I KNOW those two talked abt it afterwards#if she brings it up tonight in front of everyone I’m going to kill her <3#anyway I found the notes I’d written out for myself back then bc I was having trouble sorting through my thoughts more than usual#and they helped me organise what I was thinking and come to some kinda resolution on my own bc he was giving me nothing <3#and it’s. I said this to topsy the other day but it approaches caricature#I’d forgotten how concretely bad it was#like he turned me into his science experiment bc he was scared of liking someone#(specifically a guy but that’s a dimension we’re not getting into that)#I’d forgotten abt how he was testing me constantly in like. not an overt way#but he clearly either thought he was way better at subtlety than he was or he severely underestimated me. probably both#and despite me going a little insane over him I was in fact being mostly sane! I had some level of emotional maturity going on there!#I was just worried abt everything but i at least knew what the fuck I was feeling and had resolved to just be open about it all and I did it#there is genuinely a bit in there abt how I wanted to apologise for how I would sometimes get distracted when he was talking bc he was cute#I wanted to apologise abt being awkward being thrown in unexpectedly to meet everyone he’d ever talked to#where I wrote abt how I’m learning from my mistakes and I know what the problem was now#dude???? you have anxiety???? this is how that works????#these are not the worst examples I just cba to dig back through that note it’s so long#anyway mr guy you are annoying as fuck pls get your shit together#this was all meant to be over if he could like maybe make up his mind on following me vs avoiding me that’d be great <3#luke.txt
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