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#or even how a person talks about them. and even then youre better off looking to their actions outside of fandom
euno11a · 1 day
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i just saw your post about reader who can’t make themselves cum and ugh i love it, especially because i feel like no one ever talks about or includes it. anyways i would love to hear your thoughts on reader who has a hard time cumming, especially during sex no matter how good it feels
I fell that it’s honestly really important to talk about it to let people know that they aren’t alone. And I’m so glad you liked it :)
It is scientifically proven that men can cum easier during sex than women. It’s mostly because women have complex bodies, what works for one person might not work for the other. So when figuring out your own body, it’s important to keep in mind that your body is unique compared to others.
this wasn’t the first time that you’d been sprawled out in bed with Simon pleasing you. He kissed up and down your body, caressed every inch of you, even stopped for a little to rest his head on your chest and make sure you were nice and relaxed. You two had been on this journey together for a little while now, trying to figure out what you like and how he can make his pretty cum. He had tried many things, using his tongue, light pressure on your clit, firmer pressure, no pressure and just stimulating your g-spot, stimulating your g-spot and your clit, adding nipple play to see if that made you more sensitive; but even if it felt good, your body wouldn’t let yourself go.
at first, Simon thought it was because he wasn’t good enough. That he just lost his touch and that he wasn’t doing enough for you. But when you comforted him and explained how you’d been like this since you could remember, it made him feel better and worse. Alright, he wasn’t a complete failure and could still make you cum…but why hasn’t he? Every time you two had sex or just did foreplay, he would make sure to take all the time in the world to get you really nice and wet for him. He would use his fingers to curl inside you and touch that spot to make you mewl and arch your back off the mattress. But you still couldn’t cum. You were in the middle of him thrusting into you, feeling how his cock would twitch gently inside you, his fingers working your clit. Left side, right side, hood of it, right on it, pinching it gently, but all it would do is make you feel more pleasure that lead to nothing but a dead end.
you buried your head into his neck and let out small whimpers as he kept his movements steady. After another 15 minutes, that’s when the whimpers turned into silent sobs. Your body jerked a little as you cried, tears gliding down your cheeks and onto his bare shoulder. His head leaned down against yours and held you tightly, gently sliding your of you to hold you in his lap. You cried softly, neither of you talking, but both knowing what was wrong. “I don’t like being broken…” you said through little cries, voice soft and hoarse. But you were cut off by Simon shaking his head and cupping your face to press small kisses against the apples of your cheeks.
“Yer not broken, love. Y’just different. Just because we don’t know how t’make you cum just yet doesn’t mean my sweet girl is broken.” His words were soft against your ear as he caressed your head, another time failed.
as time passed, you began losing hope. It’s fair, thinking you just can’t do it because something inside is wrong or maybe you just weren’t cut out to be able to feel that pleasure everyone talks about. You started to notice how Simon even began refusing any type of pleasure. Handjob? No thanks, love. Maybe a blowjob cause you had a stressful day? Nope, but I do need cuddles, sweet girl. He was refusing your love. While he sat in his home office finishing some paperwork, you walked in quietly, staring at him as he stared down at the paper, pushing up his glasses. The glasses that you finally got him to buy because he kept complaining about the television being too hard to see and the news on his phone is too small. Thank god you did though, he looked bloody hot in them. Scooting your way into his office, you stood in front of his desk, catching his attention. “Somethin’ ya need, love?”
your cheeks burned as he looked at you, but you couldn’t get distracted! “Why are you refusing my love?”
it was clear the question caught him off guard by the way he paused, mouth slightly agape as he looked at you. “I’m not refusin’ your love. What makes you say that?”
“Wha-…? Yes you are! Every time I offer you a blowjob or a handjob, you say no. Am I doing something wrong? Does it not feel good? Do you…do you not like me anymore?”
he could hear your little heart shatter in that last question, standing up from his chair and walking over to you. He grabs you hands and sits on his desk, pulling you towards him. “I fucking love you. Neve think for a minute that I stopped loving you. I’m refusing to let you do any of tha’ because I don’t think it’s fair to ye. Not fair that my sweet girl has to endure not bein’ able to cum, so m’not gonna either.” He says while looking straight into your eyes, his thick and calloused fingers pushing some hair behind your ear. “Won’t cum until you can.”
while you thought he was refusing your live, he was actually doing it because he didn’t want you to feel left out? This man looked like a scary man, but he was the most thoughtful and caring teddy bear ever. “What if I never do, though?”
“Then neither will I.” He spoke seriously. “Understand?”
the small nod you give him is enough acknowledgement for him, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Now, I was doin’ some research, and I found that most women can’t reach an orgasm without some help. So, what do ya think ‘bout lookin’ for some toys with me, eh?”
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neerons · 3 days
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Some of Gilbert von Obsidian's best quotes
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[Warning: Heavy spoilers about Gilbert's route]
"Ahaha, what is the prince of Obsidian, if not rotten?"
"I hate people."
"No matter how hard I try not to, I can't help but be gentle with her. What kind of villain am I?" (—Gilbert talking about Emma to himself)
"(...) I hope you don't accidentally end up calling me 'big bro' or anything." (—Gilbert to Leon)
"(...) You were just saying what you really think. I don't think doing that is rude. And it's true I'm someone scary."
"I like you because you're so warm, little rabbit."
"Ahaha! You're so sassy. But I like that about you."
"I want to make things awkward for you."
"You can't just focus on the best of someone while ignoring the worst of them."
"If you were a bother, I'd kill you, so don't worry." *smile intensifies*
"...I'm no match for that pure, innocent gaze of yours. You're the only one capable of pushing me around, you know."
"Depending on what you say next, I might just take your head clean off." (—Angry Gilbert to Emma)
"(...) You nearly died. ...Do you have any idea how much that chilled me to the core?"
"The only thing I can ever be for you is a villain. ...Unfortunately."
"...Thank you. I almost got murdered by some dust."
"If you keep on lying over and over about being fine, I might just... Well, you can guess, right?"
"I found it in a book in the little rabbit's room. They need to understand what happens to them if they try to interfere with what's mine... Don't they?" (—Gilbert talking about a poisoned needle targeting Emma to Roderic)
"You said it, remember? You said you wanted me to learn to love Rhodolite. To me, you are Rhodolite."
"Those born with status have the right to do whatever they like to those who are lesser than them. That's what you want to say, isn't it? (...) Hmm? What's that? You look a little distressed for some reason. But I suppose that's no surprise. You see, I have the right to tyrannize you however I please, just as you tyrannized those children who had no one to protect them. I'm imperial royalty, and you're just a third-rate aristocrat. So I'm going to have to teach you just how different our social positions are... Aren't I? (...) Aren't you lucky that we're in Rhodolite? You've narrowly escaped death. If this was Obsidian, you'd be dead for sure. After all, we have no need for disgusting nobles who defile the purity of children." (—Gilbert to a Baron of Rhodolite)
"Wait, so you're telling me you baked cookies for another man, even though I'm right here. Ouch, that hurts."
"(...) if by chance I run into your dear papa, he'll kill me." (—Gilbert talking about Akatsuki)
"Welcome to Obsidian. (...) I introduced myself as Gilbert von Obsidian, didn't I? There's only one person in this country allowed to use the Obsidian name. And that's the emperor."
"There's nothing about you or me that makes one of us intrinsically inferior or superior to the other. Humans are all basically the same. And naturally, from a societal perspective, we probably need people who can take the lead. People who are capable, and talented, who can bring others together, and build a better tomorrow. That's a healthy way to be. I'm the ruler of a country that knows deception and decay all too well, so I understand better than most. That's why my ideal, my ambition, is to conquer all the royalty that have infested this whole continent, and free the people who are under their control."
"I wrote that story based on you. (...) Akatsuki told me a lot of stories about you, and they were always stories about you showing love and affection for others. He made it sound like you believed that the true nature of people is love, and that the happiness of others was what made you the happiest. The idea of living like that was repulsive to me, but at the same time, it made me curious. I got to wondering what sort of choices you'd make, if you were in the same position I was."
"You were bullying small children to amuse yourselves. That Rhodolitian might have stopped at just punching you, but I'm not that kind. Did I make military regulations or didn't I? And do those regulations say attacking non-combattants is forbidden, or don't they?" (—Gilbert to Obsidianite soldiers)
"Then how about you call me papa?" (—Gilbert to Luke)
"...Don't go. (...) I don't know... if I can hold on... until you get back. Being on my own... is lonely..."
"...You're the only one I'll ever love."
"I'm taking your daughter." *smile intensifies* (—Gilbert to Akatsuki)
"I'm not oppressing you with my power, it's just my love for you, overflowing."
"You can't do things like this with other men... Unless you want to see dead bodies."
"You're liked by everybody. A lot of the princes helped you out today. That's because people adore you, and they naturally want to help you out. They're all beasts with strong characters, but you're important to all of them. Do you know how rare that is? That means you're charming to everyone you meet. ...Including me, of course."
"There's no way I'd ever let anyone else kill you. It has to be me."
"I can't just bare my body for free."
"I've never liked seeing you clothe your body in things that other people have put their hands all over."
"Don't force yourself to talk. I'm not so narrow-minded that I'll go around saying you're disrespectful just because you didn't thank me. You're sick; you're supposed to just drink medicine and sleep."
"Wah, boohoo. I can't believe we were on different pages this whole time. I've given you my entire heart, and yet, look at what you've done with it! (...) Waaah, I'm so heartbroken that the only thing that could bury my sadness is world domination!"
"For his sake, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear him call me 'eyepatch bastard'. Rude." (—Gilbert's thoughts about Silvio)
"Her ability to right what was wrong, purify what was once sullied... It runs at complete odds with my nature. I may have truly met my match." (—Gilbert's thoughts about Emma)
"I blinked a few times as my vision seemed to expand all at once... and the little rabbit become clearer and even more beautiful." (—Gilbert's thoughts about Emma)
"I'm never letting you go. If you run away from me, I'll conquer the whole world and follow you to the ends of the earth if that's what it takes. No wait... I just need to control your heart, so that you'll never even want to leave me." (—Gilbert's thoughts about Emma)
"We all approach life differently. Chevalier slices hearts in two. I trample on them. But, you... You respect them."
"I wanted to see you bawling your eyes out."
"You're... the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
"I like the little rabbit very much, you see. So I certainly hope that bold declaration of yours doesn't end up turning into a lie." (—Gilbert to Silvio, in Silvio's route)
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jjkamochoso · 3 days
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I Survived Shiganshina and All I Got Was This Stupid T Shirt
Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Levi Ackerman x gn!reader
The battle at Shinganshina is here—how will Levi cope with the imminent death of another person he loved?
Warnings: cussing, violence, mentions of blood and death
A shiver flew through your entire body, your bones shaking under your skin. Your fingers were having trouble fastening the emerald green cape around your neck, the button slipping from your quivering grasp, as you got ready for what was most likely the last battle you’d ever enter. You had just witnessed the best Scouts get absolutely demolished by the Beast Titan, torn to shreds by the boulders he threw with no mercy, and you were only saved from that early demise due to Erwin asking you to fight elsewhere with Levi and the new recruits. Now, here you all were, scared out of your minds under the flimsy cover of buildings as pieces of rock threatened to pummel you at any second. Meanwhile, you were too busy dealing with this fucking cape that you couldn’t fucking button because your fucking nerves—
“Take a breath, brat.”
Your anger was immediately quelled by the sound of Levi’s calm voice as you felt his nimble fingers make quick work of the closure. His steel eyes were boring into your own and if it were any other time, you’d look away shyly, but your lives were about to expire and there was no way you’d want to focus on anything but the man in front of you.
“I can feel your heart pounding through your cape. You need to relax.”
His words were stern but you knew the concern that lay behind them. The captain still hadn’t pulled his hands away from your body after helping you out, opting to hold you close in the only way he knew how. You and Levi had made your affections for each other known a few months back after many years of friendship but agreed that it wasn’t the time for romance of any sort so you found yourselves locked in a relationship that was a mix of platonic and whatever a step beyond that was. Right now you wanted nothing more than to give him the deepest, most passionate kiss you had in you but you were all too aware that you dedicated your heart to the Scouts and betterment of humanity, not just to the famed captain so you couldn’t take your mind off the task at hand—keeping your cadets alive for as long as possible.
“You’re right. I’m sorry,” you told him, regret oozing from your mouth. You weren’t apologizing for only today, but for all your past mistakes. He deserved to know you took accountability for all your transgressions, both professional and personal. If only you knew then what you knew now… you would’ve made countless different choices to lead you and your soldiers to victory rather than sitting in a clump waiting to die. You could’ve been at home, content in the arms of the man you loved rather than participating in the macabre game of seeing whose light in their eyes goes out first.
“No regrets. We made our choices and there’s no going back. We have to look forward.”
You nodded in agreement and he reluctantly pulled his hand from the worn fabric, you immediately missing the warmth of his touch. Levi left to talk with Erwin on what to do next while you tried to calm the new recruits.
Was Levi scared?
That’s a loaded question.
Technically speaking? No. There was nothing fearful about an overpowered, loud, ugly, shitty excuse of a monkey, even if said monkey was making quick work killing the Survey Corps. Levi knew he could kill him. It would take speed and finesse, traits he utilized in every mission, so no, Levi wasn’t scared of that.
Levi was scared to lose you.
He had seen too many of his comrades fall, his loved ones fade away from existence. With every death he found a way to keep moving, carrying their fighting spirit with him, but if you died?
That would be a major blow to his morale.
That was why he was currently debating with Erwin, desperate to find an escape route for you and the recruits. He could beat the Beast Titan in a fight, that he was sure of, but the sacrifice of Erwin, you, and the rest of the cadets would be a devastating waste of lives. Would it be worth it to kill the Beast Titan now instead of letting everyone retreat? Would it be worth the loss of his two closest friends?
The loss of the love of his life?
As a captain in the Survey Corps, it was your duty to give your heart for the survival of humanity. Why was it so damn hard for Levi to see you do just that?
“Give up on that dream and die. Lead the captain and those new recruits into hell. And I will take down the Beast Titan.”
You anxiously awaited word from Levi and Erwin on what the plan was going to be. More buildings had collapsed and it was only a matter of time before all your shelter was gone and it would be a full on massacre. You hoped they were about to bring good news. Erwin stood proud in front of the recruits while Levi took his place next to you, wearing a somber expression and you knew that spelled disaster.
“There was no other way,” he said, confusing you until Erwin began explaining his strategy to the group. When you heard you were going to be riding straight into your death, you were struck with a million different emotions. Fear, anger, and grief were the ones you felt the strongest until Levi’s face entered your peripheral and finally you settled on relief. You had been fighting your entire life for peace for your loved ones and this was no time to turn your back on gaining the opportunity for humanity’s survival. Besides, a quick, meaningful death was being served to you on a platter in this situation which was all you could ask for. After Erwin’s rousing speech, you felt even more secure in your position as a distraction to help Levi eradicate the Beast Titan. Levi was deathly quiet throughout the whole ordeal and you couldn’t get a read on how he was feeling.
“I was upset at the plan at first,” you told Levi as recruits were rushing around you, mounting horses and dodging rocks, “but I get it. It’s what we signed up to do. I just hate that I’m leaving you so early.”
He didn’t say anything as he received horse reigns from a frenzied soldier, studying your face and committing everything to memory. If this was the last time he’d see you, he wanted to make sure he’d never forget it.
“Titan got your tongue, Captain?” you joked, shooting Levi a soft smile and gripping your own horse’s reigns in a white knuckle grip. Levi reached out, his free hand ghosting over your tense hold.
“I thought I told you to relax. And I know my own shitty voice, I want to remember yours.”
“I love you so much, Levi,” you suddenly blurted out. “Don’t let these words become a curse or a burden, I just need you to know that my feelings were real. You can take them with you or leave them here in this graveyard if that’s where they belong but I couldn’t die without telling you.”
Levi was quiet again.
You started to mount your horse, ready to give your all in your final battle before eternal rest. Before you could swing your leg up, you felt a fist connect to your chest.
“You’ve dedicated your heart,” said Levi, his eyes unnaturally wet as he looked steadfastly at you one last time, “to the cause, to the Scouts… to me. I won’t let you down. Your death won’t be in vain. And when I die, whenever that may be, I look forward to seeing you again.”
You felt tears ready to drop but you refused to let them fall.
You extended your pinky. “You promise you’ll take down that shitty monkey?”
Levi copied the motion and you trembled at the skin on skin contact.
“I swear on my life. This is my promise to you, y/n.”
You released the intertwined pinkies and touched your own hand to his chest, letting it rest above his fast beating heart. “It’s been an honor, Captain.”
“Same to you, Captain.”
You smiled and relinquished your limb from his body, swinging your leg over your horse and waiting for the command from Erwin. You saw Levi mount his horse and in that moment, you understood the full extent of why the public viewed him as a humanity’s strongest soldier. His unyielding conviction and resolute attitude in the face of impossible decisions was truly exemplary. The regal way he sat atop his horse was nothing less than extraordinary and the way he handled his blades with such ease and grace was absolutely swoon worthy. You considered yourself the luckiest person in the world to have known him as well as you did. You gave each other one last head nod before his horse galloped away, ready to ambush the Beast Titan. Your job just got even more important. You weren’t going to fail him. You weren’t going to let him die.
Blood. Pain. The smell of smoke signals.
These were all things that filled your senses to the brim as you charged forward, screaming until your throat burned and your lungs gave out. The first bombardment had left you dazed, a large piece of rock whizzing by your head and hitting you just enough to make you nauseous and almost fall off your horse. You pressed on, not giving up so soon. The only way you’d let yourself die is when you feel like you accomplished what you set out to do. Levi needed more time, more distractions, and so, you weren’t finished yet. You loaded more smoke shells into your gun and fired off more rounds, the deafening cries of fallen soldiers filling your ears. The Beast Titan had picked up another handful of boulders and you knew your time was running out. You rode as fast as you could, feeling sorry for the inevitable end your horse was going to meet as well, but your sacrifices were going to help the next generations grow up in a better world.
Another bombardment was on its way.
Shrapnel and boulders began showering over you. You yanked on your horse’s reigns and you narrowly missed a chunk of rock. More smoke signals left your gun as you twisted your body around to see who was still standing. Just you and three others.
It was the end for you.
You wished you could’ve survived long enough to see Levi kick the monkey’s ass, but fate was cruel as the Beast took up one last handful of soon-to-be-projectiles. Your horse’s legs kicked up dirt clods in a frenzy at the speed you were going and you were hoping she was having a good time running free like this, unaware of the death she was about to face. The Beast Titan’s arm threw itself forward and you released the last smoke shell in your gun. As the rocks rained down on you and the last of your soldiers, you could’ve sworn you saw Levi’s silhouette through the smoke. Your horse got struck by the last of the boulder pieces and you flew off, striking the ground with a large thump. The last thing you saw before everything went black was a memory of Levi smiling at some stupid shit joke you made in the dining hall one evening.
There was a faint feeling of someone touching your neck and you didn’t know if you were in the afterlife or not. It was certainly bright enough to be the afterlife since the light was basically blinding you through your closed eyelids. You tried to move, speak, anything, but your body wasn’t cooperating. You tried moving toward the light, like what people say happens when you die, but you didn’t feel any different when you finally opened your eyes. In fact, you felt like absolute shit. You had a pounding headache and it was like every bone in your body was broken. You registered the hand on your neck again.
Probably feeling for a pulse.
“Levi?” you croaked out, “Levi? Is that… you?”
“Captain! Captain, can you hear me?”
“Levi?” you tried again. It didn’t sound like him but you weren’t sure of anything anymore.
“No, it’s Floch. Captain y/n, it’s Floch. We have to get out of here. You have to get up!”
Get up? You could barely open your eyes. And what the fuck was Floch doing here, sounding like he didn’t just experience the worst day of his life?
“Commander Erwin is still alive but he’s bleeding out. We have to get him to Levi to save him!”
Levi. Just his name put a smile to your face. Right. You have to save Erwin and see Levi. Two very agreeable missions to accomplish, in your opinion. You forced yourself to peel your eyelids apart and the sun burst in your retinas like a floodgate had opened. You ignored the burning and bruising sensations in the rest of your body as Floch helped you up. You definitely busted some ribs, suffered a major concussion, scraped open your face, and had a broken arm and ankle, but all things considering, that wasn’t the worst outcome. You were relieved that Levi survived the Beast Titan bout. The mental image of Levi severing the monkey’s head gave you a burst of energy and you were able to walk a little bit faster, Floch holding you up as you made your way to grab Erwin and find Levi. When you got to Erwin, you were exhausted and sat down while Floch shoddily bandaged up the commander.
“Can you walk on your own? I have to carry him or else he won’t survive.”
You nodded. “I’ll either do it or I won’t. If I fall, keep going to Levi and don’t worry about me.”
“Okay.”
You two started your treacherous trek into the walls. It was eerily quiet after the battle, the scent of blood filling your nostrils and you weren’t sure if it was your dead comrades’ or your own. You stumbled more times than you could count and there were a few moments where you thought you’d fall and die in the same spot, but before you knew it, you had come upon Eren, Mikasa, and a charred body…
“W-who is that?” you cried out, trying to keep from throwing up. It was the right size and build to be Levi but there was no way he got burned, right? That wouldn’t make sense at all but your delirious mind had been through too much to work properly.
“It’s Armin,” said an all too familiar voice.
“Levi!” You fell to your knees from fatigue, both physical and emotional. You were overjoyed that he was completely unharmed but on the other hand, you witnessed the burnt body of a wonderful young man with friends who tried to protect him with all their might. You felt strong arms grip your body as Levi moved you to a better spot on the roof, away from Armin and the other teens and leaned you up against the remnants of a chimney.
“I’m happy you’re alive,” you said wearily, ready to pass out.
“Same to you,” he said, frowning slightly, “but hey, don’t close your eyes. Stay awake for as long as you can. We’ll get you to a doctor soon.”
This time it was you who didn’t respond, your head lolling against the stone as your eyes shut.
“Y/n. Y/n.” Levi was shaking you by your shoulders and lightly tapping your face but there was no response. He located your pulse and it wasn’t scarily faint so he decided to leave you be for now while he dealt with a new, huge problem—deciding to continue with saving Armin or giving the serum to the freshly returned from the battlefront Erwin.
When you finally woke up again, you were greeted with Hange (minus one eye) staring at you like you were their newest titan experiment.
“Glad to have you back with us, y/n,” they said, clapping your shoulder gently. “I didn’t want to lose anyone else today.”
“Who did he choose?” you asked, your voice hoarse.
Hange stiffened ever so slightly. “Armin.”
“Good,” you replied, “Erwin had been through enough and met death in the most fitting manner for him. Armin and those other kids are our future. He made the right choice.”
“I agree.” They helped you sit up and your bones creaked in protest at the movement. You saw that you had a hastily arranged splint on your left ankle while your arm was in a sling made from part of someone’s shirt and sensed the pull of a bandage along your cheek and down your jaw. Levi heard you talking and quickly came over to fill you in on what was next.
“You’re going to the top of Wall Maria with what’s left of the Scouts so you can get to Trost and recuperate. Hange, Mikasa, Eren, and I are going to the basement.”
“I can go, too.” You tried to shift position and stand but you were too weak, your body giving out on you as adrenaline was quickly draining. Levi rushed to your aid, letting you support yourself against his leg as you sat again.
“You can barely sit on your own, let alone walk to Eren’s house. You’re going to Trost, y/n, and that’s an order.”
You looked up and met his eyes; they were filled with concern and you were washed in shame at your lack of self awareness. Of course you couldn’t go, you’d only slow them down. Now was not the time to act rash in the name of selfish desires for answers. Levi borrowed Eren’s ODM gear to bring you to the top of Wall Maria since his own gear was out of gas and pretty busted up. You bid your goodbyes to Hange and the kids as Levi deftly scooped you into his arms, mindful of your numerous injuries, and began swinging through the ruins of Shiganshina.
“So, did you bring them with you?” you asked, breaking the silence.
“Bring what?”
“The words. The ones I told you before the battle. Did they die with our comrades or did you bring them with you?”
“I-” Levi faltered. “I… brought them with me. You mean a great deal to me, y/n. When I sent you out on the battleground I refused to let you die in vain, you’re worth too much for that. But I made a promise to you and Erwin that I’d kill that shitty Beast Titan and I failed. I’m sorry.”
“Levi,” you said, your hand finding purchase on his cheek, “it’s alright. You did your best and I’m proud of everything you accomplished today. We can try again and keep trying after that as many times as we need to, and we won’t give up. We can do this. Together.”
His lips were pressed in a firm line as you felt his grip on you tighten. You had almost scaled the wall when Levi spoke up.
“I had made peace with your death but now that you’re back with me, I won’t lose you again.”
You were now walking atop the wall and you spied Sasha and Conny from your position. Levi helped you hobble over, a firm and comforting grasp on your waist. When they greeted you both, Conny said the group was about to take off for Trost. Levi knew he couldn’t continue wasting time here but he had this ache gnawing inside him at the idea of someone other than himself taking care of your injuries. He didn’t want to leave you alone but you both had jobs to do—him to find answers in the kid’s basement, and you to rest up. He noticed your cape was undone and sliding off so he moved it back into place, ignoring the revolting squish of fresh blood under his fingers, and affixed the button to the loop. The action was the same as a few hours prior but the result would be much different. Instead of you marching to your death, you were heading to be healed. Instead of wrapping you in a body bag, he could try wrapping you in his arms.
Levi smiled at the thought.
“I’ll come see you as soon as I can,” he said, sincerity shining from his irises. “Listen to the doctors and don’t be stupid. You need to get stronger. Make sure you get plenty of rest and eat lots. Don’t get dehydrated, you have to keep your fluid intake up after injury. Don’t hesitate to ask for help if you need it, that’s what the staff is there for.”
“Okay, mom,” you teased. Levi scoffed and you just giggled.
“I’m looking out for you, brat, so take my advice.” His tone had gone soft, no bite behind his words whatsoever. You made the connection that this was his way of saying “I love you” and you let out a sigh of relief that he was returning the weighty phrase. You became aware that his hands were resting on the same junction of your cape’s button and clasp like before, not making an effort to pull away any time soon if he could help it. But he couldn’t help it since you were being called over to start your journey to Trost so his touch ceased from the heavy fabric as you gave him one last tender look.
“Take care of yourself, Captain.”
He reached over to ruffle your hair. “You too, Captain.”
You heard the zip of ODM gear and Levi was gone in a flash. Though you felt like a piece of you was missing without Levi by your side, you knew he’d be back with you in no time. As you limped along the wall with your hurt comrades, you felt a fire ignite deep within your soul.
The Beast Titan was going to pay.
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swarvey · 18 hours
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how they react to you getting hurt | sdv x g/n reader
a/n: nothing like a little bit of angst. (but a lot of fluff, of course.)
elliott
nearly faints when you come home all bandaged up
he's always been confident in your strength, and you've never really gotten that banged up before
so when he sees your arm in a sling, he practically has a heart attack
definitely plays the "who did this to you" card because he's so dramatic
you pray that your husband is asleep as you open your door as quietly as humanly possible, tiptoeing inside your home. it doesn't help that your dominant hand is in a sling, but somehow, you manage to make it to the bedroom without waking elliott up.
just as you think you'll make it into bed successfully, he shifts, eyes fluttering open.
"y/n? did you just get back?"
he reaches over to turn on the lamp.
"wait—!"
"what in the world."
you let out a sigh of defeat as elliott's eyes turn into saucers, his mouth agape as he looks at your injury. as much as you adore your partner and everything he stands for, you know how dramatic he tends to be, especially when it comes to you.
"elliott, please, i promise it's nothing," you try, but he slowly gets out of bed and makes his way across the room to you. "seriously, i'm fine!"
"darling," he starts, his voice scarily quiet as he lightly grabs your shoulders, "who did this to you?"
"what?" you want to laugh, but you also want to see how far he's willing to take this. "what are you talking about?"
finally, emotion fills his eyes as he begins to scan your body for other wounds, acting as if you just came back from fighting a war.
"was it a monster in the mines? were you snuck up on? or worse," he gasps, "was it a person? was my darling attacked by our own kind? tell me, dear, say the word and i'll track them down to the ends of this earth!"
you can hardly take him seriously in his plaid pajamas, but you also feel so lucky to have someone care about you to this extent. emotional tears are even welling in elliott's eyes as he gently pulls you to his chest, holding you as close as he possibly can.
"i don't know what i would do if you were wounded severely, love," he says, kissing the top of your head. he pulls back to look at you deeply in the eyes, suddenly serious. "now, tell me. who, or what, did this?"
"a fishing rod."
". . . what?"
"i strained my shoulder pretty bad while fishing, so harvey said i should wear this sling for a week until it gets a bit better."
"ah, i see." elliott nods, avoiding your gaze as you laugh. "well, that doesn't mean my darling shouldn't be spoiled!"
you let out a cry of amusement as he sweeps you off your feet, laying you gently down in bed and placing the blanket over you snugly. he turns the lamp off before joining you, laying on his side so he can pull you to his chest.
"that was a bit dramatic, wasn't it?" he whispers.
"not at all."
harvey
worried out of his mind
you’re the last person he ever wants to see in his clinic
will absolutely overplay your injury unless you stop him
(though it is nice to be doted on)
"hey, harvey."
you watch as harvey's head shoots up in surprise, knowing that he isn't expecting you this early. typically you would do some work throughout the day before stopping by around lunch to see him, but the clock had just about hit noon. you had decided to take an early trip to the mines as your lovely husband promised to take over your farm chores for the morning — though, thinking back on it, maybe you should have just slept in.
"are you back from the mines already, dear?" he asks, turning to look at you. "that was quick—" he stops in his tracks.
you look at him sheepishly, wincing as you tighten your grip around the cloth wrapped around your injured arm. a hint of blood seeps through it, and you can practically see harvey pale.
"listen," you start, "before you freak out, it's not that—"
"sit, i need to take a look at it right now," he orders, urgency filling his voice. you sigh as he grabs your hand and leads you to the examination table. "how did this even happen? you're usually more careful than this," he scolds, slowly beginning to unwrap the cloth as you do your best to explain.
"i took the elevator pretty far down the mines this morning," you explain, biting your lip in pain as the makeshift bandage fully comes undone. "there were a few monsters i had trouble dealing with. i guess this is what happens when i skip out on my morning coffee."
harvey frowns, shaking his head. "now is not the time for jokes." he shakes his head, gently taking your arm in his hands and looking at your wound. "what if it had been worse? what if you couldn't make it back up, and got trapped? or, worse, what if you got an infection?" he pauses, and you can see all the scenarios running through his head. "then we'd have to transport you to the city's hospital, i'm nowhere near equipped enough to handle that. should i be ordering more supplies?" his eyes widen, his hand hovering over his lips as he continues to ramble on about different ways your story could have ended. he doesn't even notice the exasperated look you're giving him.
"and then i'd have to take over the farm, at least for a while—"
"harvey," you laugh, grabbing his shoulders. he snaps out of his daze, his eyes meeting yours once again. your heart melts at the worry that glazes them. "what matters is i'm here, right? so why don't you properly bandage me up and i'll stay here for a bit, just in case."
he clears his throat, a dust of red printing his cheeks as he nods. he turns to grab some disinfectant and a roll of bandages.
"right. good idea, honey. but, as your doctor," he adds, and you groan at his words, "i say you need to avoid the mines for the next week in order to heal properly, and no extensive farm work, either."
"seriously?" you grimace as he applies the disinfectant before thoroughly wrapping your wound. "who's going to take care of the crops and the animals, then?"
your heart skips a beat when harvey places a soft kiss on top of your bandages before hugging you to his chest. he rests his chin on the top of your head, and you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks.
"your loving husband, of course."
shane
immediately begins to panic internally when he hears you're at harvey's clinic from emily
sounds angry, but his eyes deceive him — you know he's just worried
tries to act all tough, but he can't help being a bit more protective over you than usual
"what the hell were you thinking?" he questions sharply, barging into the clinic with no greeting. you stifle a laugh at his appearance — from the looks of it, he had just woken up from a nap, his hair touseled and jacket half thrown on. "why didn't you come get me?"
"i told emily to let you know, since i was a little busy trying not to pass out," you joke, but you quickly realize your mistake when he all but shoves harvey out of the way to give you a look over. "shane, i was kidding—"
"how hurt are they?" he demands, his attention turning to harvey. "do they need time to recover? should i do anything?"
the doctor raises an amused brow before replying, "don't worry, the cut on their leg didn't even need stitches. the wounds should be completely healed within a few days. y/n," he turns to you, a kind smile on his face as he takes off his stethoscope, "take it a bit easy for now, alright? at least until your leg is completely better."
"thanks, doc." as you move to stand, you're shocked as shane wraps an arm around you, helping you get on your feet. "what are you . . . ?"
he doesn't meet your eyes. instead, he guides you to the door, a frown imprinted on his face. you hear maru hold back a gasp at the scenario in front of her. harvey nudges her to stay quiet, though it's clear the two are more than amused at the situation at hand.
"didn't you hear him? you need to take it easy," he snaps, and you can see him starting to blush.
"shane," you start, the two of you making your way through the plaza, "you hate PDA." yet, his arm is still wrapped tightly around you as he guides you towards the farm.
"shut up," he grumbles, pulling you closer to his side. "it doesn't count if it's doctor's orders."
you laugh, leaning into his side. you like the change of pace, it's refreshing — not that he'll ever admit this ever happened.
"well, maybe i should get hurt more often, then."
"don't even think about it."
-
lmk if you guys want more !
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0livdocx · 3 days
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Howard Hamlin: illusion of burning sins
Inspired by Better Call Saul S04E01 - Smoke:
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“There’s something else that’s still burning after the fire that took Chuck’s life.”
I originally drew this piece at the start of the year, but recently I got back to it and decided to add some spice. Despite some small errors, I like how it looks now. Yum!
My creative process & thoughts for this piece:
It’s originally a self-projective piece partially about my mental struggles, but I won’t be talking about myself here.
Let’s focus on Howard Hamlin in this episode, right after Chuck’s death - Unforgivable as Howard Hamlin thought he was, he was partially a scapegoat for Jimmy McGill’s deeds. I’m putting Howard in the frame, but it is reflecting an aftermath of Jimmy’s self-denial and psychological manipulation driven by his own insecurities. Jimmy told Howard “that’s your cross to bear” while the sentence also serves as a suggestion to the audience that Howard is indeed a sacrifice to Jimmy’s self-loathing and avoidance. Jimmy McGill would be the illusionist who casted this whole “illusion of sins” upon Howard Hamlin’s already conflicted mind. Would you feel pity for this guy? Vince legit made him cry for your pity.
Everything is still about Jimmy McGill, our cunning, venomous perpetrator. Self-loathing and antisocial tendencies are a part of his true nature. Did he see Howard’s distress? Did he see Howard Hamlin’s suffering? He did. But this man closed his heart to them, just like the way he run away from himself. Jimmy McGill’s lack of sympathy is one of the very things that brought Howard into his grave. Just how pathetic Howard is? Grieving for his misplaced error in the dark, this man is oblivious to the fact that he was already entwined by the serpent: a cold blooded creature who would never change its nature - the snake here serves as a symbol of Jimmy McGill’s inherent antisocial tendencies. Howard could never foresee the future of this serpent sinking its teeth into him and pump out its deadly poison, which will finally give him the kiss of death. Even the stars that will guide him on his path cannot save him from this misery. Personally, 401 feels like the beginning of the downfall of Howard Hamlin, and the rise of Saul Goodman.
If we think about the causes of Chuck’s death, it’s not hard for anyone to see that Howard Hamlin, this poor man is overshouldering someone else’s sin - someone who’s unable to face the responsibilities to their own actions, someone who’s in constant denial, someone who’s too much hatred in their heart. (Naw Howard is legit Jesus here💀) it’s why I chose to cover Chuck’s face with the cross too, for how Jimmy mislead Howard into believing that Chuck’s death was all his fault, when Jimmy himself was the main perpetrator.
Anyway, in later seasons of the show, we can notice that Howard was crumpled up and put into somewhere he didn’t belong, he’s forced to face this superficial alienation - his marriage was falling apart too. With this vulnerability, Vince showed that this lead lawyer of HHM was stuck, he was conflicted, his glory was wearing off, he was struggling like every normal person would. He was burning not only because he’s trapped by guilt and sin, but also for the reason that he has the vitality to “burn” and release energy: He is resilient. He has the life inside of him to be burnt.
Compassion creates a sense of closure between characters and audiences. The entire tight spot in Howards life conveyed by Vince makes audiences empathize with him easily - honestly I never felt a thing for Howard Hamlin’s boring ass because I was busy siding with Jimmy McGill in my mind in the first few seasons. What’s interesting about Brba/Bcs is that Vince put us in front of a quandary: who would you side with in a fucked up world with fucked up people? When watching the first few seasons of BCS I put my empathy in Jimmy McGill, but then my empathy slowly detached from him as the show progressed.
As for Howard, I just pity this man as an audience after witnessing his fall presented by Vince in the later seasons: what Howard deserved was anything but a nameless grave with his murderer, a defamation, and a twisted, made-up story stated by his perpetrators on his funeral. Vince made it obvious to the audience. Yes. Let’s make this glorious man suffer. Let him be guilt tripped. Let his life fall apart like a roller coaster so you’ll lay your compassion and love onto him - Howard Hamlin lost everything, he didn’t even have a death with dignity thanks to the people operating the fucked up bullshit in the dark - It’s interesting to notice my “love” for this character is originally out of compassion.
Despite Howard, there are lots of characters who deserve audience’s love. There are Nacho, Mike, Gus, their motives are even noble if you try to look at it from a humane perspective, but anyhow they’re all part of this gut-wrenching predatory game - it’s basically how everything is so complicated in a world depicted in Better Call Saul and Breaking Bad, they create intricate conflicts. I do love how fictions like BrBa and BCS allow us to explore the complexity of humanity in a safe distance.
As Howard Hamlin was buried, Saul Goodman buried Jimmy McGill alongside with him too. And then there’s Lalo Salamanca lying beside Howard Hamlin like they’re doing pillow talk - they are both powerful beings taking high positions in the BCS food chain. As they disappeared, the path for Saul Goodman’s career to ascend is broad and clear. A cucaracha rising to the top, and this time he’s fully embracing the darkness.
In conclusion: Great make-believe, Vince!
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cameronluvr · 1 day
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GUESS WHO — rafe cameron x fem!reader x barry x fem!reader
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summary: after fooling around with both rafe and barry at separate times, you fall pregnant and have to figure out which of them is the father. you gain the courage to tell both of them with sarah’s help.
warnings: mentions of pregnancy, slut shaming (by rafe), kinda toxic!rafe, reader is 18 + rafe is 20 + barry is 22, crying, arguing, mentions of weed, cussing, name calling (whore, bitch, slut, all by rafe ofc), — lmk if i missed any! ≽ܫ≼ ⭒
: ̗̀➛ 𝓶𝔂 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
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you’d been on and off sleeping with both rafe and barry behind each others backs for weeks now. you don’t want rafe to know about barry, and vice versa, as you were afraid of them both killing each other.
sure, there was a chance they could’ve told each other, but they weren’t that close to exchange details about their sex life. they hung out a lot, but they weren’t exactly friends.
you couldn’t pin who was better, though, they’re equally as good as each other. rafe had a slightly longer dick, but barry had thicker girth. you were literally so cock drunk that you couldn’t give up one for the other. you needed both…
… until you’re sat on the bathroom floor three weeks later, crying while clutching onto a positive pregnancy test.
“fuck, fuck, fuck,” you place your hands on your head after tossing the test across the room, gliding your fingers through your hair to calm yourself down. you stand up now, breathing loudly, quickly and heavily as you can’t help but panic.
you’re pregnant at 18 with two possible baby daddies. how are you possibly supposed to keep calm?
you have zero idea of what to do. you can’t tell barry because it might not be his, for the same reason you cannot tell rafe. fuck. what have you gotten yourself into?
after some more minutes go by of you panting, crying and overthinking, you finally manage to reduce your tears and calm yourself down enough to call sarah, one of your best friends.
“y/n! hey girl” she answered almost immediately, sounding happy to hear from you. she hadn’t seen you in about three days because you were sick, and now you know why.
“hey sar, i uh— can i see you? i kinda need someone right now…” you ask, sniffling and rubbing your tears away. “are you okay? what happened?” she asks in a concerned tone. “uh, i’ll tell you in person… it’s easier.” you gulp, feeling anxious as hell. rafe’s her brother, and you don’t exactly want to tell her you’ve been seeing her brother, as well as barry.
“yeah, that’s okay, you wanna come over?” sarah asks kindly, making you think for a second. what if rafe’s home? you sure as hell don’t want to talk to him about this, not yet anyway… you can just avoid him if he is home, you guess.
“okay, yeah, thanks… i’ll be there soon” you smile, wiping the rest of your tears away as you hang up the phone. you’re glad to have a friend like sarah, she’s always there for you no matter what… you leave your house and begin making your way to tannyhill, arriving around 15 minutes later.
you walk up to the house and knock on the front door, hearing fast footsteps banging down the stairs from inside. sarah opens the door, smiling at you before pulling you into a hug. neither of you let go of the hug, and stood there for a good minute before pulling away. “come upstairs, come on” she holds your hand, walking to the stairs with you.
you both walk upstairs and into sarah’s bedroom, where she closes the door for some privacy. “sit down” she tells you, walking over to her bed and both sitting down next to each other. “what’s going on?” she asks, sitting close to you and brushing your hair out of your face with her fingers before resting her hand on your shoulder, rubbing it to comfort you.
“uh… fuck, it’s quite a lot.” you sniffle, looking down to anxiously fiddle with your hands. “it’s okay, you can tell me anything” she reassures you, seeing you nod. “well, uh… i don’t even know how to say this, but… fuck. i’m pregnant.” you blurt out, seeing her entire face drop. “y—what?!” she widens her eyes, her hand on your shoulder now feeling like a frozen grip.
“…yeah” you nod, gaining the courage to look her in the eyes, which only made you tear up again for some reason. “oh my god— what! with who?!” she asks with utter shock and confusion, and slight excitement.
“uh,” you hesitate. “that’s kinda the thing…” your eyes wander away from hers, wanting to avoid answering but you know you have to say now. “it’s not like, jj, is it?” she asks, snickering to make a joke out of the situation, which seemed to make you laugh.
“no, no, it’s way worse” you reply with a laugh, making her truly wonder who. “pope?” she asks, seeing you shake your head. “… rafe.” you say, too afraid to admit the other possible father right now.
her face dropped more than it did last time. the room falls silent for a second as she takes a while to gather her words. “r—rafe?!” she asks, less excited and more afraid now. “yes, but—” you try to say, but she cuts you off.
“you’ve been sleeping with rafe?! my brother? why?” she asks, feeling sorry for you for even going close to him, given how crazy and mean he is. “i don’t know—”
“but, why rafe? he’s a fucking psycho. he’s my brother, i know him more than anyone. you do not want to have a baby with him y/n—” she tries to advise you, but you haven’t told her the rest yet.
“sar.” you cut her off, “what?”
“it might not be rafe’s, is what i’m trying to say…” you tell her, seeing all sorts of different emotions portrayed on her face. “what the hell do you mean by that?!” she asks, raising her voice but not loud enough for any of her relatives to hear. “i’ve been seeing rafe, yeah, but i’ve been seeing someone else too, but i don’t know who’s worse” you tell her.
“who can possibly be worse than rafe?” sarah asks, not thinking for a second that there’s anyone out there as demented as her brother. “uh, barry… that drug dealer g—”
“barry?!?! y/n!” sarah stands up from her bed now in pure disbelief. “i know, sar,” you sigh, feeling stupid for being with either of them. “so you’re telling me you’re pregnant and you don’t know who the dad is, and it could be rafe or barry?” she asks, repeating the story to you to make sure she got it straight. you nod, seeing her pace around her room in shock.
“y/n!!! you know for a second i thought jj would’ve been a shock, but those two?!” sarah says, thinking about how close you and jj were at one stage. the only reason you never dated him before was because of the whole ‘no pogue on pogue macking’ rule.
“sar, trust me, i know it looks fucking bad, but i do not know what to do…” you tell her. she sighs, trying to come up with a way to help you. “well, first off, do you want to keep it or no?” she asks, sitting back down next to you on the bed.
“… no, fuck, i don’t know. i don’t want either of their babies, but i don’t know if i can have an abortion… what will my parents think?” you overthink, terrifying yourself even more. “fuck what they think. what do you want?” she asks. you hadn’t thought about it too much before, you didn’t know if you wanted kids or not, you weren’t expecting it so soon…
“i don’t know what i want…” you say, your eyes filling up with tears once again. “do you know how far along you are?” she asks, trying to get as much information as possible to help you. “no…” you shake your head, wiping the tears falling from your eyes.
“don’t cry, come here” she comforts you, pulling you into a tight hug and stroking your hair. you can’t help but cry as you nuzzle your face into her shoulder, trying hard to not break down. “i’m here for you, okay?” she says, feeling you nod against her. “we can book a doctors appointment together, yeah? i’ll help you with whatever you need” she reassures, being the best friend.
“thank you…” you sniffle, lifting your head up to wipe your eyes. all of a sudden, the bedroom door opens, making you both dart your eyes towards it. “what’re you doin’ here?” rafe asks, peeking his head into the room. “get out, rafe” sarah strictly tells him, making him frown. “why you cryin’?” he looks at you, ignoring his little sister.
“rafe, leave her alone!” sarah raises her voice now, picking up a pillow and throwing it at him. “chill out, dude, she’s my friend too” rafe argues back with his sister as he fully enters the room. “i don’t care, get out of my room” sarah is adamant on getting him out, standing up from the bed to try to force him out.
“what’s wrong with you?” rafe asks, pushing her away as she tries to push him out of the open door. “no, what’s wrong with you!” sarah argues, the two of them bickering back and forth until you were fed up. “stop it, guys” you stand up from the bed, attempting to separate them from each other.
they stopped once you told them to stop, which made sarah give her brother a weird look. he’s never listened to anyone that fast before, he really is into you. “rafe, just come in” you say, needing to tell him sooner or later. you pull him by his arm away from the door so you could shut it fully, now standing face to face with him. “what’s wrong?” he asks, seeing how upset you are.
“it’s a long story rafe…” you sigh, not knowing how he’ll react to the baby news, but certainly knowing how how he will to barry. “i’m all ears.” he tells you. “why are you acting like that?” sarah frowns at her brother, wondering why he’s being so soft. “shut up, let her talk” rafe shushes his sister without looking at her, his eyes are on you. sarah had seriously never seen him like this before.
“rafe… i’m pregnant.” you sigh, not wanting to explain all over again knowing he’ll have a completely different reaction to sarah. his eyebrows raise, and mouth drops. “really?” he asks, not seeming entirely happy. obviously he’s going to automatically assume it’s his, considering how many times you’ve fucked over the past month.
“yeah, but…” you say, hesitating again. “but what?” he asks, his tone more serious now. “uh…” you literally don’t know what to say. sarah sees you struggling, and sighs. “it might not be yours, rafe” sarah says, telling him so you don’t have to. the room falls silent for a second as you both watch his face completely change to angry.
“what?” he frowns his brows with squinted eyes, looking at you as if you were crazy. “…you’re not my boyfriend, rafe. i do, y’know, see other people” you tell him, seeing him shake his head. “i don’t care, what the fuck? i’ been fuckin’ you, for you to fuck other guys?” his voice raises now. “rafe—” sarah tries to say, but he cuts her off with a ‘shh’.
“it’s not ‘other guys’, it’s one other guy. besides, i’m not your girlfriend so what i do is none of your business.” you defend yourself, pointing a finger at him. “none of my business?!” he yells, raising his eyebrows in disbelief. “you being a fucking slut is none of my business?” he asks, infuriated.
“rafe!” sarah gasps.
“yeah, i’m definitely a slut.” you scoff a laugh, shaking your head at his idiocy. you aren’t together, he hasn’t asked you out, so what makes him think you belong to him only?
“yeah, you are. if i knew you were a whore i wouldn’t’ve fucked your sorry ass in the first place,” rafe belittles you, always believing he was above you because you’re a pogue. “she’s not a whore, don’t be such a dick!” sarah argues with her brother, not liking the way he’s speaking to you.
“shut up, sar, that’s why you two are best friends. just two little slutty bitches together” he scoffs, shaking his head as he laughs at you both. “oh, and you’re not?!” sarah laughs back at him. “yeah, you’ve literally slept with half the girls on the island, and we’re the sluts?” you add.
“right,” rafe scoffs, finding your words amusing. “who’s the other guy?” he asks, changing the topic, looking at you with an intimidating expression. “…it doesn’t matter.” you gulp, side eyeing sarah for a quick second.
“what the fuck was that for?” rafe caught onto the way you looked at sarah, which made him immediately suspicious. “nothing—”
“what’re you hiding from me, y/n?” he asks, taking a step closer which made you gulp, looking up at him as he towers over your vulnerable self. “i’m not hiding nothing!—”
“then tell me who the hell you fucked.” he demands, his lip quivering in rage. “… barry. there, ya’ happy?” you spill out since he wanted to know so bad. he falls silent for a moment before laughing at you. “barry? drug dealer barry? are you fuckin’ serious?” he went from angry to enraged, yelling at you now.
you don’t answer, you only look up at him with tears in your eyes, which tells him that you are being serious. “you— what the fuck? you been goin’ behind my back and fuckin’ barry?” he yells, making you flinch. “rafe, barry doesn’t know either—” sarah tries to help, seeing him turn to look at her for a second before looking back at you. “you really are a fuckin’ whore, you know that?” he laughs angrily, trying to maintain his sanity. “tell him. go fuckin’ tell him, cause either way you’re gonna abort that thing.” he yells, looking you up and down in disgust. “am i?!” you ask at his audacity. it’s your decision, not his nor barry’s.
“yeah, you fuckin’ are. cause even if it is mine, i don’t want nothin’ to do with it.” he cruelly tells you, his face just inches away from yours. your lips quiver as you can’t help but cry now. his mean words seriously hurt your feelings.
“good luck with barry” he sarcastically scoffs a laugh before turning around and completely walking out of the room, slamming the door shut after him. his angry footsteps lead to his own room, where you hear the door slam shut from down the hallway.
“y/n…” sarah says, quickly pulling you into a hug. you hug her back and sob for a minute, before pulling away to wipe your eyes. “fuck” you whisper to yourself, thinking about what to do now.
“i’m gonna go to barry’s.” you say, grabbing your phone from sarah’s bed and putting it in your pocket. “are you sure? do you want me to come with you?” she asks. “no, it’s okay. i don’t think he’s gotten over the time you supposedly robbed him” you roll your eyes, talking about the pogues. “true” she shrugs it off, seeing your point, he probably wouldn’t react well to seeing her.
— after leaving sarah’s, you head over to barry’s trailer, where you see him sitting out on his porch, smoking a joint. you walk up to him and grab his attention, making him look at you. “hey, pretty girl” he grins once he saw you, removing the joint from his lips. barry’s nickname for you was pretty girl. he always called you it, no matter how you looked.
you smile with a blush, seeing him pat the empty space next to him, motioning for you to come sit. “y’alright? what you here for?” he asks, setting his joint aside on the table in front of him once you sit down. “uh, i need to talk to you actually…” you say, giving him a serious look. “what’ you need to talk about?” he looks into your eyes, giving you his full attention.
“please don’t freak out when i tell you this but,” you sigh. “don’t freak out? what is it?” he asks, frowning at you, kinda freaking out now since you told him not to… “long story short. i’m pregnant,”
“oh shit,”
“but, but… i’ve been seeing someone else too, so i don’t know if it’s yours or not…” you decide to just straight up tell him instead of leading it on.
“damn, who else you been fuckin’?” he asks with an amusing grin on his face, not knowing what to think. he doesn’t know you too well, he’s just your weed dealer, and he isn’t obsessed with you like rafe is. “…rafe.” you awkwardly tell him, knowing he’ll laugh, and of course, he laughed. “country club?”
“damn, girl, you just foolin’ around huh?” he asks with an amused grin. “i guess” you shrug. “so yo’ baby daddy is either me or rafe cameron?” he asks, seeing you nod. “damn.” he says again, running his hand through his hair. his reaction was way less meaner and angrier than rafe’s was, which you were entirely thankful for.
“i know, i’m sorry… i told rafe like 20 minutes ago and he flipped the fuck out. telling me to abort it, calling me a whore and shit,” you sigh. “he can be one sensitive son of a bitch, bruh.” he shakes his head. “what are you gonna do, tho’?” he’s curious to know. “i have no idea. i mean, i don’t want a kid right now, especially not rafe’s,” you say, giving him a crazy look.
“and i mean, you’re a drug dealer… my parents won’t particularly be too happy about that.” you say, seeing him nod in understanding. “well, whatever you decide to do, i’ll be here for you, k?” he looks at you, gently placing his hand on your leg for comfort.
“… thank you, barry, that means a lot” you smile at him, letting him know how grateful you are to have someone other than sarah be here for you right now, given that rafe probably doesn’t want to speak to you ever again.
“no problem, pretty girl, y’want somethin’ to eat?” he asks before standing up and walking to the trailer door, opening it and turning to look at you for your response. “what you got?” you giggle, seeing him motion for you to follow him. you stand up and join him, walking to his kitchen together.
at least one of the possible dads is trying.
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a kinda long one for u guys to make up for being gone for a couple of days!! ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ i love this one. rafe is always a little bitch 😩 i hope you guys enjoy + thank you for all the support on my previous fics! you’re all the best ㅤㅤᵕ̈ // not proofread. if you spot any mistakes please feel free to correct me 🎀
@cameronluvr
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catnipaddictt · 3 days
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hi! i was wondering if you could write something like where sam and reader have been best friends since forever, and the reader’s parents decide to go on a family roadtrip with sam and reader. the reader’s parents didn’t know they were dating but find out cause sam and reader fell asleep while cuddling/hand-in-hand
it’s totally ok if you don’t want to write it and sorry if this looked weird but i REALLY like your posts 💓
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sam monroe x gn!reader
wc: 0.6k
cw: none this is just fluff!
comment: I LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS REQUEST SO THANK YOU ANON!!!
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The early morning sun cast its rays across the nearly empty street. It would be deserted if it wasn’t for your family. Every year for as long as you could remember, your parents had done an annual road trip down the coast, stopping at small towns along the way. You look forward to it every year, counting down the days till summer break arrives. 
However, this year was going to be different to most. Your parents had agreed, no offered, to take your best friend, Sam, with you guys this time. What your parents didn’t know was that you and Sam had been dating for the better half of the year now, and you were both looking forward to spending this time together. 
You had known Sam since you had started school together all those years ago, and you had become attached at the hip ever since. Your parents like to recount the days when the two of you were 4 ft tall and a lot less trouble than you were now. As Sam got older, he took on a more alternative look, something you admire about him. He was just so…cool. You didn’t know how else to describe it. His black hair (which you dye for him) and selection of piercings suited him and his personality perfectly. And when he asked you to show him how to do eyeliner when you both turned 14 you happily obliged. 
You throw your bag into the back seat before climbing in and buckingly up your seatbelt. Your parents were going to drive the 3 minutes to Sam’s house to pick him up before beginning your road trip. The sound of the car’s engine excites you, and when you pull into Sam’s driveway a few minutes later you are ecstatic. You hop out of your seat, and walk swiftly to the door before knocking twice.
Sam’s hair appears before you see the rest of him and he grumbles out “It's too early for this sort of carry on, your parents are crazy.” You laugh at him. He was never very good at early starts. “You can sleep in the car, come on!” 
You pull Sam and his bag to the car and you both climb in, settling down for the long trip ahead. Your parents greet Sam and make some small talk before turning on the radio. The sound of rock ‘n’ roll fills your ears and you nod your head along in time to the beat. Sam just looks at you like you are insane. 
Sam lies his head back on the car seat headrest, looking up at the car roof. He is tired and you can tell. You sneak your hand into his, covered by the bags in between you. If your parents noticed, they certainly didn’t say anything. He glances at you, gently squeezing your hand in his ring-clad one. 
As your parents drive down the coast, your hands stay intertwined, even as you both slowly begin to nod off, waking up at the crack of dawn taking its toll. By late morning you are both passed out, Sam’s head resting on your shoulder.
Eventually your parents pull into a small town for a bathroom break and to stretch their legs. Turning around to shake you both awake, your mother shakes her head at the sight of the two of you. Somewhere along the winding roads, the bags concealing your interlocked fingers had fallen to your feet, revealing your hands. 
She laughs to herself, smiling before turning to your dad; “I knew something was up with them.” she whisper-yells, happy that it's Sam and not some other douchebag guy. You dad grins, “should we wake them up?” 
“No, let's let them enjoy their moment.”
When you and Sam wake up, you are both met with two smiling faces and a lot of explaining to do.
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Apologies for any writing mistakes, let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!!
Taglist: @heartsforanakin @qvnthesia @ysrjune @anisscarletstarlet
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Text
Rusty | Chapter 15 | S.R
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Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Summary - Spencer’s birthday continues to not go entirely as planned. An argument leads to Spencer’s biggest confession yet which in turn leads him to decide he is finally ready to take the next step in recovery.
A/N - @andiebeaword brought to my attention a scene from Hart of Dixie for which their stable scene is loosely based around.
Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader
Category - strangers to friends to lovers | angst | smut minors DNI
Warnings - drinking, arguing, mentions of dissociation and self harm, swearing, detailed talk of past sexually assault and use of “rape”, making out, fingering, handjob, penetrative, unprotected sex, cock warming, oral sex (f receiving), cum play(?), self deprecating thoughts.
WC - 5.7K
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Chapter 15 - Heavens Just a Sin Away
Everything you had assumed would happen when the fuel of alcohol was added to the flames of your anger, did happen. The more you drank, the more enraged you felt towards Spencer and it showed. 
The band, the Lonestar Gamblers were average at best but it didn’t stop you from dancing along to their country western melodies, trying to encourage Spencer to join you but continuously being shut down by mumbles of “I don’t dance.”
The more you observed him, the more your resentment grew. He was subconsciously running his fingers over the arm sling as though he was in pain and trying to take his mind off of it. But if he was in pain, he had no one to blame but himself. 
And you couldn’t move past it, no matter how much you wanted to. 
Perhaps that was why when you felt a strange and warm body pressing up against you from behind while you danced, you didn’t question it. You let the person snake their arms around your waist, grinding against you from behind. 
You didn’t even mind when they turned you in their arms to face them. The man was fairly young and moderately attractive. He dressed as was the norm for these parts. He had blonde hair which was swept back off of his face and large blue eyes which were staring right at you.
“Howdy there little lady,” he spoke, his hands returning to your waist and swaying you in time to the music.
“Hi,” you replied, letting your body be moved by the man's strong hands. 
“You are far too beautiful to be up here dancin’ on your own.” He smirked at you.
“Well I ain’t alone anymore am I, stud?” You returned his smile, using the nickname you usually reserved for Spencer.
“No ma’am you ain’t.” He chuckled deeply, pressing his body flush against yours. 
The whole thing only lasted a minute or so before Spencer was at your side, gripping your shoulder and pulling you off of the blonde cowboy. It was all too reminiscent of Grant and your encounter with him.
“She’s with me.” He spat at the man. 
“Didn’t look like it to me.” The other man folded his arms across his chest in what was supposed to be an intimidating fashion. Spencer was not perturbed. 
“Well, she is. So hit the road.” Spencer scoffed. 
The blonde rolled his eyes and unfolded his arms with a huff.
“Whatever, ain’t worth the hassle.” He shook his head, soon turning on the heels of his cowboy boots. 
Once he was gone, you turned to Spencer with an unamused look on your face.
“What the hell was that about? I was just having a little fun.” You growled at him.
“Trying to make me jealous?” He cocked an eyebrow at you. 
“Not everything has to be about you.” You suddenly pushed past him, making a beeline for the front door.
Spencer ground his teeth before following you, this situation all too familiar to him. You pushed your way outside and Spencer was hot on your heels. You didn’t stop, just kept walking in the direction of his ranch.
You were tipsy but not so drunk that you didn’t know where you were going. You didn’t sway on your feet or stumble. If Spencer didn’t know any better he would think you hadn’t been drinking at all.
“Would you slow down?” He called after you, impressed you could walk so fast in your high heels.
“Nope.” You spat over your shoulder, and if anything you picked up your pace. 
Spencer grunted, hurrying after you like a lost puppy. Even when he caught you, you wouldn't look at him. 
“This is still about what happened yesterday, right? My dissociation, my self-harm.” He watched the side of your face as you both continued to walk. 
“You’re suicide attempt you mean?” You bit back, eyes trained straight ahead. 
“Accidental.” He corrected you.
This gave you pause and you suddenly halted in your tracks and faced him glaring wildly at him.
“I don’t care if it was accidental or not, Spencer!” You raised your voice. “I am never going to get that image out of my head. I tried to put it aside to give you a good birthday but I can’t ignore how fucking angry I am!” 
“You aren’t the only one.” He scoffed. “You think it didn’t make me angry seeing you dancing with that guy? On my birthday?” 
“I can’t dance with someone?” You played innocent.
“There’s dancing and then there's dancing, Y/N. What you were doing was more just than dancing and you know it.” Spencer rolled his eyes. 
“Well with any luck he might not be as much of a fucking mess as you.” You spat, causing Spencer’s eyes to turn dark. 
“Fuck you,” he growled with a shake of his head. “You think this is easy for me? To find out I opened my home to a goddamn murderer! I’m going to have to leave my ranch to keep you safe, do you know that? As long as Luke knows where I live, you aren’t safe. We’re going to have to flee and I’m going to have to leave everything behind that I’ve been building for the last two years. If I can give up my entire life for you, the least you can do is cut me some slack over my goddamn mental illness!” 
He was yelling loudly, thank god there weren’t any people on the street. You scowled at him as angrily as you could but inside you wanted to cry. You should have known he would use that against you, throw it back in your face. Spencer liked to act like the nice guy, the caring guy, but ultimately he was just the same as everyone else, wasn’t he?
“Go to hell.” You snarled. “You don’t have to do anything. First thing tomorrow I am outta here, on my own. I don’t need you, I don’t need anyone.” 
You turned to storm away again as you felt the first rain drop hit your exposed shoulder. You’d barely taken three steps before the heavens opened and it started pouring.
The sound of the rain as it slammed against the asphalt assaulted your ears as the water almost instantly soaked you through. You looked back at Spencer as he was reaching towards you. 
You let him grab your wrist and soon the two of you were running a little way down the street. There was an old, slightly dilapidated stable up the road which you’d passed countless times but never paid much attention to. 
Spencer let go of your arm so he could wrench open the rickety door. He moved his hand to your back and hurried you inside before he followed, quickly closing the door behind himself.
It was immediately clear that the stable was disused. All the paddocks were empty and all they remained was piles and piles of hay and a lone rusty pitchfork hanging on one wall. 
Spencer grunted as he got the large door closed and turned to you. His overgrown hair was drenched, hanging limply around his face as water beads dripped onto his shirt. 
His shirt was wet through, clinging to his body the same way his jeans were. You could feel your dress also bonding to your skin with the water. 
The rain beat heavily on the tin roof, almost aggressive in its downpour.  The two of you stood a few feet apart staring at each other for several long minutes, lost in the sound of the rain. 
He moved his good arm to his neck when he unfastened his saturated sling, peeling it away from himself and dropping it onto the floor.
He flexed his fingers a few times, his face creasing in pain.
“I really think you should keep that on.” You huffed. 
“It’s fine, it doesn’t hurt too much.” He shook his head in defiance. “I guess there’s a storm coming.”
“No kidding.” You rolled your eyes, running your hands over the sopping fabric of your dress. 
Spencer exhaled, straightened up and dared to take a half step closer to you. 
“I don’t want you to leave.” He croaked. “Not without me. I love my ranch but I love you more.” 
“What happened to you?” You asked, seemingly ignoring him. “Why are you like this? Trust me, I know all about prison being stressful but there is more to it than that. You need to tell me right now what it is you’re keeping from me or I swear to god Spencer, I will leave and never look back. I love you but I have to know what I’m up against here. You almost killed yourself and I deserve to know why.” 
Spencer averted his gaze towards the dusty, hay riddled floor and scuffed the toe of his boot in the dirt. He knew that he owed you an explanation but it didn’t mean he readily wanted to give you one. But he knew it was time. 
He knew if he wasn’t honest with you, you were going to leave him. You may even leave him once you knew the truth. But at least if you had all the facts you could make an informed decision and maybe, just maybe you would choose to stay despite what he’d been through. 
He looked back at you and you could see a wealth of sadness hidden behind his eyes. You already knew what he was going to say was going to be huge. He took a long breath in, held it for five seconds before exhaling it and then he spoke the words he wished to never have to say out loud again. 
“I was sexually assaulted in prison.” He said, ripping it off like a bandaid. “Technically I was raped. Three different men forced me to perform oral sex on them. Because of the crippling fear, I got an erection and they berated me for it. 
“I have not had sex since. The most intimate I have managed to be since has been with you. Before I met you I couldn’t even get erect, let alone orgasm. I couldn’t kiss Luke without feeling sick, nevermind anything else. My dissociation seems to happen the most often after intimacy as it leads me to think about what happened to me.
“We, uh…were amorous and then you left. What I needed was comfort, just someone to be there so I didn’t go off of the deep end like I did. But you couldn’t have known that because I didn’t tell you and I should have. I should have been honest with you the first time we kissed and I pushed you away but I didn’t. I couldn’t. 
“Talking about what happened to me is the hardest thing I have ever done and the only other person I have told is my therapist. Luke knew, he said he saw my prison medical records, I’m sure you heard that when you were eavesdropping on us. My old boss knew too for the same reason.
“But saying it out loud is…there isn’t a good enough word to describe how difficult it is. I was raped. I was assaulted by three fellow inmates who saw me as weak and subservient. That’s why I have PTSD, that’s why I dissociate sometimes and that’s why there is some part of me that apparently wants to die, okay? Now you know.” 
He became irate towards the end, pacing back and forth in the stable and not allowing himself to look at you for fear of what your reaction might be. 
For a minute or two after he stopped talking, you were silent and you digested his words. You’d had your suspicions about what had happened to him but hearing the words out loud caused you to wince. 
You watched him pace, trying to think of any words that might help him but knowing there were none. You had no idea what he was going through, no idea of the damage that kind of trauma did to a person. 
You cautiously stepped closer to him, stepping in the path he’d been walking back and forth which forced him to halt in his tracks. His eyes flit up to yours, full of unshed tears. You reached for him, careful not to touch him before he gave you a soft nod. His flinching at unprovoked touch made so much sense now.
When he nodded, giving you the green light, you raised your hands and placed them on either side of his face. Skin on skin, help keep him tethered. He seemed to relax at your touch, closing his eyes for a few seconds as he exhaled through his nose. When he opened them again, the tears hidden there previously were gone.
“I’m so sorry that happened to you, Spencer.” You whispered, only just loud enough to be heard over the onslaught of rain on the roof. “I wish I had the magic words to say to make it better for you but I don’t think there is any such thing. What happened to you is horrifying, no one should have to go through that. I’m sorry I forced that out of you.”
“I figured I’d have to tell you eventually, I just…I hate saying it out loud, it makes it so real.” He swallowed, nuzzling into your touch. 
“I’m sorry.” You repeated, at a loss for what to say. “And you know we never have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with or that you’re not ready for.” 
Spencer nodded, nuzzling further against your hand. His stubble was getting long and was less scratchy than it was previously on your palm. 
“I don’t want to keep letting them win.” He sucked in a breath. “I can’t keep letting them win.” 
Before you could respond his hand was on the back of your neck and he drew you close before crashing your lips together. 
You gasped at his sudden kiss and his tongue plunged between your parted lips. He started moving you backwards while keeping a firm hold on the back of your neck. 
He kissed you fiercely, moaning into your mouth like you’d never heard him before. He continued to move you until your legs hit something and a second later you were both topping backwards onto a bundle of hay. 
Spencer kept his lips on yours while his hand that had been on your neck moved between your bodies. His body weight was pressing into you, his left arm too weak from his fractures to hold himself up. 
His hand glided down the fabric of your dress before disappearing under the hem, shimming the garment up your legs and soon his fingers were brushing over your panties clad core. 
You hissed into his mouth and he tore his lips away, resting his forehead against yours instead. His eyes were full of a combination of lust and fear. 
“Sp-Spencer,” you moaned as he stroked you through your panties again.
His lip quipped into a smirk as he pushed the material aside and with no warning plunged two fingers inside of you. 
You moaned so loudly it rivalled the sound of the rain still drumming down on the tin ceiling. The sudden movement caused you to jerk on the bed of hay, scratching your arms but you didn’t have time to dwell on it. 
Spencer’s fingers buried inside of you, brushing up against your cervix as your walls fluttered around his digits. He was already painfully hard just from the feeling of you around his fingers. 
You were already soaking, coating his hand in your arousal but the rain drowned out the sounds as he moved in and out of you, scissoring his fingers. 
His wet hair fell in his face, framing his sharp features. The bulge in his slacks was even more noticeable through the rain drenched fabric. 
You reached for him but stopped short before you touched him. He roughly thrust his fingers back inside of you, jerking you on the hay bale again whilst nodding his head. 
You fumbled a little with the button of his jeans as wave after wave of pleasure flooded your body. When you got it undone you reached straight inside the wet fabric and pulled his shaft free. 
He scrunched his eyes close as you hand wrapped around him, his fingers stilling momentarily. You watched him take a few deep breaths and his lips moved ever so slightly as though he was talking but no words come out. 
In his head he repeated the words he’d penned in his therapy session some eighteen months ago. 
I was sexually assaulted, but I am not a victim. I was coerced but I am not weak. I am in control of my own body, of my own mind. I will not let them win, I will not let them ruin my life. 
I didn’t deserve what happened to me. I am a good person. I am a strong person. I will move past this. I won't let them break me. I am still worthy of love and affection. I am still whole.
I am still whole. 
I am still whole. I am still whole. 
His eyes shot back open and he looked down on you, withdrawing his fingers. You whined as he did so, worried he was imminently about to freak out. 
Instead he parted your legs wider, took his shaft from your hand and held it in his own as he moved in closer to you, moving your panties aside once more. 
“Spencer,” you panted as the head of his cock moved between your legs. “We don’t have to do this. I don’t want to rush you.” 
“I'm ready.” He spoke with as much confidence as he could muster. “I am still whole.” 
You let your legs fall further open as he pressed his thick head at your slick entrance. He kept his eyes on you, manoeuvring your hips a little and you arched your back, allowing Spencer to glide inside of you swiftly. 
His eyes widened and the most feral sound you’ve ever heard left his lips as your slicken walls caused him to plunge all the way inside he was entirely sheathed in your cunt. 
You noticed his stomach clench through his shirt, his weight balanced on his one good arm but it was shaking. For a moment or two he didn’t move, simply stared down at you in incomprehensible awe. 
His breathing was heavy and rapid, his chest heaving with each inhale and exhale. His eyes suddenly glossed over with tears and you felt his cock twitch deep inside of you. 
“Oh my gosh.” He spoke, his sentence punctuated with heavy pants. “I…I…” 
“It’s okay,” you cooed, reaching up to brush his damp locks out of his eyes.
“Y/N, there is not a single word that exists in any known language to accurately describe what this feels like.” He whined as he spoke. “The closest I can think of would simply be…heaven.” 
You smiled at him, hand now on his cheek. You let him take his time, grow accustomed to the feeling and gather his emotions. 
Every now and again his cock would pulse and cause you to clench which would in turn make him moan. 
For a while you just laid there listening to the sounds of his heavy breathing and the rain that continued to fall outside. The bed of hay was uncomfortable and itchy but you barely noticed. 
After a while you shifted slightly, wrapping your legs around his lithe waist and locking yourself in place at the ankles. His hips rolled in a slow and steady movement as he readjusted himself. 
“I love you,” he whispered, placing a chaste kiss on your lips.
“I love you too.” You spoke in equally hushed tones. 
Steadying himself on his good arm, he gradually pulled his hips back until barely an inch of him was still inside of you before leisurely thrusting again until he bottomed out. 
He did this a couple of times, careful, calculated movements and each time you whimpered when his blunt head tapped against your cervix. 
He slowly started to increase his speed, delirious from the way you stretched around him each time. It didn’t take long for his hips to start working of their own accord and soon he was snapping back and forth, pounding into you harder and harder. 
You moaned with every thrust while Spencer was making grunts of appreciation. A bead of sweat gathered at his temple and your legs tightened around his waist. 
He kept his eyes on you, not looking away for even a second. You arched back off of the hay bale and he growled at the new angle, somehow managing to get even deep inside of you. 
He was heavy and thick between your legs, forcing your body to accommodate him in ways you’d never experienced before. You were bending to his whim, and it made him dizzy. 
Hips still bucking back and forth now somewhat rampantly as he chased both of your highs, he could feel you clenching around his length and his legs buckled slightly. 
He was panting so heavily you could barely hear the rain anymore. The slick sound of your arousal as he dove in and out of you echoed around the empty stable. 
He bowed his head and kissed your jaw sloppily, never letting up on his ministrations. 
“I’m, uh, embarrassingly close.” He panted against your skin. “I'm so sorry, it’s been so long.” 
“Hmm,” you hummed as he slammed inside of you again. “M-me too.” 
He lifted himself on his one good arm again so he was hovering above you. He could feel the tell tale pinching and coiling in his stomach, the tightening of his balls as his body prepared for his release. 
Suddenly your eyes rolled back into your head with a particularly hard thrust and your lips parted for a string of moans and curses to escape. 
You reached for him blindly, grabbing hold of his good arm and digging your nails into the damp fabric of his shirt. He could feel you clenching harder than before. He knew what was happening and that was confirmed when you screamed, “fuck, fuck I’m…oh god!”
The pleasure rippled through your body, causing you to convulse on the hay bale beneath you. Seeing your own orgasm flood your features was enough for Spencer to allow his own cord to snap. 
With a couple more rough thrusts he reached his peak and fell on top of you as his cock twitched inside of you as he filled you with his seed. 
His hips continued to lazily buck as he rode out his release, expelling every little drop of himself inside of your still fluttering walls. 
When he finally stilled, he didn’t pull out, instead he peppered kisses across your jaw and cheek before finding your lips. 
He kissed you messily, tongue roaming your mouth with no real precision or finesse. You returned the kiss in much the same way. 
You wet clothes clung to each other and your legs fell from their position around his waist as though you were a rag doll. He still didn’t withdraw, he was starting to slowly grow flaccid inside of you but still didn’t move. 
You could feel the combination of both of your arousals leaking down your inner thighs, pooling on the bed of hay beneath you. 
Spencer pulled back from your lips and buried his head in the crook of your neck, breath tickling your sensitive skin. 
“I just wanna stay like this forever.” He mumbled sleepily. 
“Me too.” You agreed, stroking his messy hair. “You’re okay?” 
He exhaled, slowly lifting his head so he could look at you. He had a tired smile on his lips as he nodded his head.
“I think so,” he rolled his lip between his teeth. “I feel more free than I have in a long time. But I’d be lying if I said I don’t still have a slight guilt gnawing on my chest.” 
“I imagine that it will take some time to lift completely.” You smiled a little sadly at him. “But you don’t…regret it or anything?” 
“Not in the slightest.” He was quick to reply. 
“Good.” You nodded, wiggling a little beneath him as he became soft inside of you. “You’re gonna have to move eventually.” 
“Hmm, probably.” He agreed with a small chuckle. “You just feel so fucking good.” 
You drew him close for a kiss and while his tongue was traversing the planes of your mouth he cautiously slid out. You whined against his lips as it caused more of his arousal to drip down your thighs. 
He sat back and unashamedly glanced between your body, seeing the slick coating your skin. He tucked himself away and buttoned his jeans before surprising you by dropping to his knees on the dusty floor.
He grabbed you by your ankles and tugged your body closer to the edge of the hay bale. You gasped when his tongue flattened against your inner thigh, lapping up the mess he’d left behind.
You propped yourself up on your elbows so you could get a good look at him. He glanced at you through his lashes as he moved his mouth to your other thigh and offered it the same treatment. 
You squirmed as his face ebbed closer to your core, your panties still pushed off to the side. You stared down at him, chest heaving. 
“What are you…what are you doing?” You panted. 
“What does it look like I’m doing?” He sat back a little, smirking at you dangerously. “I’ve gotta clean up the mess I made.”
He quickly leaned in close again and shifted your panties so they were completely out of his way before he tongue dove between your folds. You moaned so deeply the walls shook, wriggling and writhing beneath him at the feeling of his mouth on your sensitive area.
Spencer didn’t seem to notice and collected all of your combined arousal on his tongue before wrapping his lips around your swollen bud. Your legs hung next to his face, shaking at the overstimulation.
“F-fuck Spence So s-senstive.” You whined, still staring down at him in shock. 
You felt him laugh causing a vibration to tear through your whole body. His tongue was rapidly moving against your clit in desperation to bring you another orgasm. 
Before long you felt two fingers between your legs and he plunged them inside of your throbbing cunt making another rampant moan leave your chest. His fingers moved in and out of you needily, his tongue flicking back and forth over your clit. 
You were especially responsive, every tiny flicker of his tongue and thrust of his fingers causing your body to jerk and shudder. It didn’t take him long at all to bring you to orgasm for a second time, already incredibly tender from the previous one. 
He knew it was happening before it washed over you, your walls clamping around his fingers and your body thrashing on the pile of hale while you moaned under your breath, “S’too much. S’ too much.”
When you came a second time your skin blanched at the overwhelming pleasure pulsing through every nerve ending of your body. You tried to push him away when he didn’t move, but he remained stalwart, determined to clean up every last drop of your arousal. 
Eventually he relented, sitting back on his haunches and looking up at the mess he created. You had a few tears rolling down your cheeks, your face blotchy and flushed. You were breathing so heavily you looked as though you’d run a marathon.
Spencer smiled to himself as he wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his flannel shirt. He got to his feet and took hold of one of your hands in his good one, pulling you to a sitting position on the hay. 
You crumpled almost immediately, your body collapsing against his chest and he was quick to wrap you in his arms. A twinge of pain spread up his left forearm as he wrapped it around you but he ignored it. 
You seemed so small and fragile at that moment. You rested against him, he was the only thing holding you upright. Your body heaved in his arms as you tried to catch your breath. 
This was without a doubt what heaven must feel like. You were the angel waiting at the pearly gates, he was sure of it. What he felt for you right then was bigger than simple love, he couldn’t put a word to it, but love wasn’t enough.
After a little while he felt your breathing start to return to something akin to normal and you forced your head up to look at him. 
“You okay?” He asked with a soft smile. 
“I t-think so.” You nodded slowly. 
“Sounds like it's stopped raining.” He nodded his head towards the door behind him. 
You inhaled, focusing your hearing and it was only then you realised that the downpour on the tin roof had ceased and all you could hear was your own breathing. 
“Maybe not a storm after all.” You mumbled sleepily.
“You think you’re going to be able to walk home?” He took half a step back, helping you up on your shaky legs.
“Hmm, I hope so.” You chuckled slightly. 
He stroked your hair back off of your face and kissed your forehead gently. 
“First thing tomorrow I am going to put the wheels in motion for us to leave Bandera.” 
“Spencer…” you chewed your lip. “I don’t want you to have to leave your ranch because of me.” 
“I meant it when I said I love you more than my ranch. And there is no way I am letting you go, not now and not ever. We’re going to have a clean break, a fresh start. Just the two of us.” 
His words wrapped you in a blanket of warmth and adoration. You knew no matter what, you would be tied to Spencer forever. And honestly nothing had ever sounded sweeter. 
***
Later that night, long after you’d fallen asleep, Spencer sat on the side of the tub in his bathroom, staring at the wall. 
He should feel relieved for finally being able to take that step with you, giving you a piece of himself he thought he could no longer part with. He was partially grateful to have finally gotten over that hurdle but at the same time he didn’t think he deserved to feel that way. 
The guilt spiral hadn’t come which was something of a miracle. Instead he was left feeling numb to it all. 
He should feel guilty, shouldn’t he? How could he let himself get close to someone in that way? He was dirty, broken, used up; it wasn’t fair for you to simply have the scraps left over from those men. 
How could he allow himself happiness, a moment to feel whole when he was fractured and scarred from their abuse? 
What was so wrong with his mind that he couldn’t just let himself revel in the euphoria a little longer? Had they broken him so badly that he could only allow himself to be consumed by the numbness? 
At the very least, it was better than how he’d reacted in your previous intimate experiences. He should be thankful he wasn’t crumbling or dissociating. 
Maybe numb was the best he could let himself feel. Perhaps he’d never be able to cling to that high after the moment passed. 
Those men had ruined him one way or another. Even if he didn’t succumb entirely to the darkness they’d stripped him of his ability to retain happiness. 
And you deserved more than this. You deserved more than he was able to give you. He loved you but he was never going to be able to give himself fully to you. 
He’d thought that once he’d moved past that final stumbling block he would be free of it all, to hand his mind, body and soul over to you. 
But he realised now with startling clarity that there would probably always be a piece of himself that he couldn’t give to you, a piece that still belonged to his three attackers. One he would never get back. 
He sat wallowing in the nothingness for some time before forcing himself back into bed. He slid beneath the sheet next to your sleeping form and watched as you breathed gently in and out. 
A whisper of light slivered its way through the blinds from the moon and cast its glow across your face. You were most certainly an angel sent from heaven but Spencer wasn’t worthy of you. 
You seemed so peaceful and he was a little envious of that. He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt that kind of peace. 
He couldn’t walk away from you, that much he knew for certain. No matter that you were too good for him, he couldn’t leave you if he tried. But that made him selfish. 
He should let you go, let you find someone who was more than a broken jigsaw with a missing puzzle piece. It was the right thing to do, the fair thing to do. 
But he needed you, you were the only one who was able to quell his darkness even if it didn’t seem that way. He needed you no matter how much it hurt. 
It was cruel of him. And yet he would cling to you with everything he had. Because without you there was no telling what kind of depths he would succumb to, what kind of misery awaited him. 
He stroked your hair back from your forehead and you stirred briefly but quickly stilled. His heart was entwined with yours, so deeply entrenched there was no untangling it. 
But there would always be a piece of him he couldn’t give you, a fragment of his heart which had been sorely removed by those men. Physically he’d given himself over to you, but emotionally there would always be a part of himself he couldn’t bestow upon you. 
He hoped that it would be enough, that he was enough. And perhaps one day he would finally be worthy of your love. 
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@kalulakunundrum @katrina0-0 @bakugouswh0r3 @prettyboyandthefangirl @zooni92802 @babyspiderling
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seungsuki · 2 days
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my you - he remembers you over a song (gn! reader)
warning: sae being down bad
note: i was listening to jungkook and decided to write lol. also i sneaked in rin from this fic i wrote
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itoshi sae, japan's boy genius, wandered the vibrant streets of madrid. spain became his second home. he was often told how he would sometimes smell like the spanish spices whenever he visited back japan. the warm sun shone the cobblestone he stepped on as he made his way around the little bustling market. he had nothing better to do so visiting the market helps take his mind off things 
the prodigy let his eyes wander around the bright lights and his ears tuned into a familiar tune. why did it sound so… home? snapping out of his thoughts, he looked at his corner left to see a man with a guitar. the street performer was strumming his guitar, singing a melody that tugged sae’s hopeless heart. my you. a song that dearly connected him to his lover 
sae didn’t realise when he fell into his own train of thoughts. the memory lane looked so clear to him and he didn’t hesitate to enjoy the times when life was simpler. he recalled the younger versions of him and you. there you were, sitting on his family’s balcony, wrapped around a big sweater and a guitar in your hand. little rin was sitting not to far with his pile of mangas and his girlfriend peeking over his shoulders to see the pages
“sae! you’re back early!”, you cheered waving at the boy who dropped his duffle bag to sit beside you 
“yeah”, he replied 
“i were just chilling here with my guitar and these two”, you motioned at the duo who seemed absorbed in his own world 
“you really do like them”, sae noted 
“they reminds me of my own sibling”, you reminisced 
“he’s still not well?”, sae asked, referring to your younger brother
“he’s hanging on”
a silent gap came along. you didn’t want to talk about your sick brother or else you’d start tearing up. sae visited him as often as he could to keep the younger boy happy. you were relieved to know that rin took a liking for your younger brother and often asked you to let him go with you. you strummed your guitar to the tune that you listened to by heart. it was your comfort song.
“네 번의 계절 또다시”
sae looked over to you in confusion. you were speaking korean? he knew you were a master in languages but he never got around to ask you about it
“더 짙어지게 또다시”
rin hummed along with it. he too was familiar with this song. his girlfriend was an avid fan of jungkook so he was forced to listen to it. he looked over to his lover and she couldn’t help but giggle before reminding him of her favourite song, euphoria 
“내가 미소를 짓는 이유도” 
your honey voice made the song even more special. sure he didn’t understand but he presumes the words mean something deep considering your teary eyes. it was almost like the world stopped just for him to listen to you  
“이 노랠 부를 수 있는 것도” 
you stopped. you couldn’t continue. sae locked his eyes with you to read your emotions but you seemed to be lost in your thoughts 
the older itoshi was brought back to reality after realising he was staring at the street performer for too long. the performer didn’t dare to make eye contact with the player and continue singing away his heart. maybe the face made might have scared him? 
sae couldn’t care. his heart was hurting. it was hurting so badly, he could imagine himself crying. he’s homesick. he misses everyone and it hurts. he wants to smell his mothers cooking, see his father read the newspaper, apologise to rin for being a jerk but most importantly, he wants to see you in person. 
no amount of facetime can make him feel better. he craves for your physical touches and kisses. sae never imagined himself being so down for you. you may have fallen first but he fell harder. listening to his heart, his hands slowly reach to his phone as he loads the japan airline website
maybe he can tolerate going back to that shitty country he had to call home but he knew where his actual home was. he begins imagining you standing at the airport with open arms for him. he falls weak into your soft hug without bothering to entertain the paparazzi. he just wants you
it seems faith was finally looking good for the pro player as he sees your name flashing on his phone screen. he quickly threw in a few coins to the street performer’s guitar bag, to which the latter tilted his hat in appreciation 
“hey, are you busy?” 
oh, that voice that made him melt on the spot. he felt his heart easen as he lightly coughed before answering you 
“no, i'm just walking around. you?”, he asks 
“i just drove rin to his training camp. what was it called, blue lock?”, you tried remembering 
“blue lock? never heard of it”, sae sighed 
“you sound down… everything okay, prodigy?”, you teased 
“shut up- i’m coming home”, sae cut himself off and got to the point 
“no way!! that’s great! is it because you miss me so much huh?”, he swears he could see you smirking over the voice call 
“my passport expired so i had to come back”, sae groaned at your antics 
“i gotta go but i have something to say”, you said 
“네 곁이기에 감사해” 
huh? he pulled away his phone from his ear to see that you cut the call right after saying that he knew what you said. he already recognised that word. it was so familiar to him now. a ghost smile threatened to break on his face
“i’m thankful to be by your side too.. [name]”
© seungsuki 2024-25 -- do not repost, translate, alter, etc on any platform without permission. Any characters used in my work do not belong to me, they are created by their original creator
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thinkingotherwise · 2 days
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Hi! Can you do one of what the wind breaker guys are like on the PDA with a girlfriend who is very affectionate and that includes sugishita and taiga? Thanks🫶
We need more interactions between them please. They are so extra, they could be besties
Kyotaro Sugishita, Taiga Tsugeura x Affectionate! reader
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Kyotaro Sugishita
He was a little uncomfortable with PDA. It was strange for him and he had the hardest time getting used to your soft touches. But he slowly adjusted to it. He wouldn't necessarily initiate it but he would let you hold his hand, sometimes even hug you back when you embraced him.
The only times he would be the first to instigate the contact was while he saw you nervous and scared. He knew that affection was your go-to, especially when you were anxious, so he would grab your hand and hold it tightly without a second thought.
Kyotaro seemed indifferent whenever you touched him but inside he was a panicked and flustered mess. You could rarely see him blush with his indifferent face.
As an affectionate person you liked PDA, and weren't afraid to show it, but you were skeptical because you weren't sure if he was 100% okay with it.
So once you heard older women talking about how it was unethical and awful, you doubted yourself. You could understand them if you really did something bad, but you were just standing with him, playing with his fingers, as the both of you waited for the bus. The doubt made you let go of his hand as you became nervous.
Kyotaro, however, as soon as he felt you letting go of him, became irritated. He huffed loudly glaring at the women. "Come here." He said looking at you and pulling you back to his side grabbing your hand and entangling your fingers together. "Huh?" You asked a little confused but also content that he didn't actually concern himself with the comments. "I don't mind it, so don't listen to them." He voiced, his thumb caressing the back of your hand while he continued glaring at the people who spoke up.
You felt better knowing that your touchiness didn't matter to Kyotaro. If someone said something like that again, he'd glare at them pulling you closer to him. He didn't care what they thought, or said, he just cared that you were happy.
Taiga Tsugerura
He wouldn't mind your touch at all. His muscles, his body, everything was for you, just as much as it was for him, that's what he would tell you.
He initiated the contact immediately when you were near him and didn't do it first. The feeling of your warm skin and body against him was pleasant and relaxing. He liked flexing in front of you while you were gushing over him and your hands moved all over his arms, it made his ego big and he felt very satisfied after the exhausting training he did.
Taiga loved to have you helping him with his workouts. He even searched through the Internet looking for couple exercises, especially the ones that let you be as close as you could. And so, you would be his frequent partner during workout routines. Doing pushups with you lying on top of him, crouches to kiss you, squats with you on his back. He would always make sure you're comfortable and enjoying yourself.
It didn't matter if you were in a public gym or exercising privately. "Oh God!" Someone once called when he saw you working out together. "Cut down on the PDA" He continued joyfully and then others joined. "You don't need to show off." "No need to remind us we're single." The voices mixed and soon laughter filled the gym. You also joined giggling to yourself and looked at the amused smile on Taiga's face.
People at the gym had enough of your lovey-dovey sessions, but it was their problem, not yours. Maybe he would tone down the touchiness, but just a little, when in the gym, in front of others, because he didn't want the two of you kicked out.
Tags: @misticbullet
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pouralaura · 3 days
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I wanted to ask you this because I adore your Tav and how you write Raphael. Seriously I can’t get enough of them together. ♥️
We all talk about finding Raphael’s diary, but what if he found Tav’s? Tav who’s all prideful and teases him, acts like they’re not interested in him. Keeps their guard up, ya know? But he snatches up their diary and uncovers that they are anything but uninterested…
Basically just constant gushing, all of those embarrassing, obsessed, horny thoughts written down that Tav would rather die than admit to. ESPECIALLY to Raphael.
Thank you so much for the kind words! I love to write em mutually obsessed in the worst way. down so bad. 24/7 gross about each other.
here's a little something
--
Tav is out.
She's traipsing about with her companions (far less interesting than she; nuisances toward whom Raphael simply can't help his indifference) around the city, so it's a perfect time to do a bit of reconnaissance. Normally he'd demand this of Korrilla, but he is quite fond of Tav.
And sending Korrilla into Tav's private rooms at the Elfsong won't be quite enough this time. Some clients require a more personal touch -- more exclusive scrutiny.
(And, if he happens to find a delicious little morsel during his perusal through Tav's personal items, perhaps all the better.)
...Also helpful to have his little warlock downstairs to keep watch, just in case his target returns unexpectedly.
So: yes, Tav is out, and Raphael is in. He's poofed into her little bedroom, surveyed her meager possessions, and found...
...what has he found? Not much. Some emptied bottles and a wine glass that ought to be washed, a few books here and there in various states of being read, some dirtied laundry (but in a literal sense, not really what he's looking for).
There is, however, a small leather-bound volume on Tav's nightstand. Unassuming. Perhaps a journal.
He flips open to the most recent page, half-full of Tav's blocky print, and he discovers he's correct. Her writing is smudged inelegantly where he presumes she's rested the heel of her hand against the paper as she moves along. It's poor penmanship. Raphael tuts in disappointment.
But then he takes in the actual content of the page, and...
It's quite the discovery.
Oh, there's no mention of illithids anywhere. No reference to the Astral Plane, or their travels along the Sword Coast beyond a few landscape details. Not even a single acknowledgement of the long-awaited death of Ketheric Thorm.
No, it's something else entirely.
Her language is tentative and blushing at first, but grows more and more lewd as the paragraphs wind on. Such a hard-headed woman -- it's not a compliment -- headstrong and obstinate, keen and incisive...and she might as well have written a name in looping cursive surrounded by hearts all over these pages.
But what name? A lover from her past? Surely not one of her little friends.
Who is this man, who's clearly enchanted her so thoroughly? Tav writes of warm brown eyes and curls she'd like to touch and oh she knows he's absolutely fucking packing under those ugly-ass trousers --
Positively troglodytic language from his favorite little mouse. Raphael scoffs. How curious he is now to uncover the source of her more basal fantasies (aspersions cast on attire clearly notwithstanding). He flips another page, and scans the contents he finds.
Something tells me that man likes the sound of his own name more than anything. I'd say it all he wanted if I could have his mouth on me.
Raphael tastes iron and brimstone as he bites down on his tongue. His piercing gaze darts to the opposite page.
Would hate to stifle his sinful voice, though, even with it between my legs. Wonder if he'd sound the same with his cock buried so far in me he'd cum out my damn nose -- "Little mouse", he'd groan for me --
...
The devil blinks.
Well, well, well.
So it's he whom the hero of the story fancies so intensely, is it, now? Usually so quick to brush him off, to turn up her nose at his delivery...but ah, how her writing contradicts her demeanor. What a find. What a delight. Raphael's shit-eating grin nearly rivals his erection in size. (Also, yes, he's obviously packing; the little mouse is entirely correct. As if he'd glamour himself a small human cock.)
But he's not able to bask in this delicious revelation for long, as he feels the press of Korrilla's signature sending spell at the edge of his mind, signaling Tav's return to the inn. Much as he'd love to read more -- perhaps alongside a glass of wine, a hot bath, and the willing, pliant flesh of his pretty incubus (in the form of the Archduchess tonight, he thinks, as his cock aches) -- it's time to vacate the premises.
Carefully he replaces the leather-bound volume on Tav's bedside table exactly as he'd found it, snaps his fingers, and he's gone in a puff of smoke and glittering sparks. As if he'd never been there at all.
--
It's not a week later when he sees her again at the Caress, come to ask another question and draw out her inevitable agreement to his terms once again.
(He's in no hurry. He's not the one with a ticking time bomb in his pretty mortal head.)
It's not until she gets up to leave, her little friends in tow --
"See you later, Raphael."
-- that he makes his move. Stands with them as is polite, sweeps around elegantly to Tav's side as she follows her companions to the door.
Raphael places a hand delicately at the small of her back, giving her pause. Leans in close to her ear, pitching his voice low:
"How I do love the sound of my name more than almost anything else, little mouse. Particularly when it comes from your mouth."
Fingertips drift down further, tracing the line of Tav's hip to a point between decent and indecent -- the lightest of touches; almost-but-not-quite a caress. Raphael watches a flush travel from the apples of the mouse's cheeks down her neck, its trail further hidden by the unfortunately high line of her leather armor.
He thinks he's got her, but then she looks up to meet his eyes, and there's laughter behind her gaze as she delivers her line and exits stage left.
"The quilting on your trousers is ugly as all the Hells."
The devil is left bereft of words as Tav skips off to join the vampling and the Selunite at the door, casting one last (heated? mocking? both?) glance back at him. A wink in exchange for the sneering curl of his lip -- a rose for his thorns; a thorn for his roses.
But his scorn melts into a smirk when she disappears from sight. If it's more than a bit fond, who's to say?
He does love it when his clients put up a fight.
Perhaps he'll bring her to her knees in more ways than one. Give her an eyeful of the expensive quilting she seems to despise so passionately.
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minaturefics · 1 day
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There Will Be Time
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Request: I have a request for Boromir x reader! (My favorite of yours is "Anything But This"). What if Boromir survived the Uruk-Hai ambush by getting pierced by just one arrow, was saved by Aragorn and helps pursue the orcs to save Merry and Pippin? He still carries the wound of the arrow and the guilt of attacking Frodo, but his internal and external wounds begin to heal by falling in love with a shield-maiden of the Rohirrim.
A/N: Thank you for waiting! I actually wrote part of this before my hiatus and finished it recently so hopefully it doesn't feel too disjointed!
Boromir x Reader
Fem reader
Content warnings: Vague mention of battlefield carnage
3.9k words
---
It was day but the sky was dim and overcast and tinged with an ominous red that bled from the horizon. The clamour and chaos from the city and the citadel seeped through the walls of the Houses of Healing, and even the matrons and patients were restless with the mustering of the army. You paused by an archway, staring out at the plains, still dotted with blood and bodies, and looked to the horizon. In a day or two, the people will march. And the fate of Middle Earth would be determined. 
You carried on along the corridor, cradling your bandaged arm, wishing you had accepted the healers’ suggestion of a sling, and searched for Eowyn. It had been a terrible day in Dunharrow when you realised she had gone off with the army. Your princess, your future queen, but more than that, a friend, a sister almost. You had ridden after them, arriving just in time for the battle, and your heart had shattered when you heard Eomer’s cry of anguish on the field. 
You rounded a corner, eyes still half-focused on the horizon, and collided with someone. Pain flared in your arm and you hissed. The other person let out a pained groan and a sharp exhale. Righting yourself, you looked up at them and saw a familiar face.
“Boromir?”
He looked better than he did the past week, laid up in bed, pale and delirious with fever and infection from the arrow wound in his shoulder. It seemed that the matrons finally allowed him out of bed and granted him a bath, for his hair was damp and his beard was trimmed. Colour was coming back to his face and he looked more like the strong man you saw a few months back when he had stopped by Edoras to borrow a horse. 
“My lady,” he said, astonished. “My apologies, I was not watching where I was going.”
“I am equally at fault. I was distracted by the sky.” He nodded, understanding. “I was looking for Eowyn, have you seen her?”
He chuckled a little, the smile softening his face to something cheeky and boyish. “She is with my brother. The last I saw of them they were talking on one of the balconies. I think it is best we leave them undisturbed.”
“Oh.”
“Indeed.” He grinned. “Though, if you are in need of some company I will happily volunteer my own.”
Your acquaintance with Boromir was still a fresh one; he had not come with his companions to Edoras and instead had gone ahead to Minas Tirith. It was visible to anyone that Faramir had some amount of admiration and interest in Eowyn, but it puzzled you why Boromir always seemed to come along to the rooms where you and Eowyn were staying when Faramir visited. And when Faramir and Eowyn were lost in their own conversation, you would speak to Boromir.
Seeing him up close and at length, it was easy to believe the stories of bravery and valour about him that spread to Rohan. He spoke with a sureness and an authority, logical and bold with his opinions. But of course, none of the stories mentioned how quick to laugh he was and how freely smiles came to him, and of course, there was no mention of the endearing  avuncular fondness he seemed to have for the hobbits.
 Still, there was a grimness to him, a darkness that seemed to pass in his eyes every once in a while, his expression turning from elated to guilty when he spoke of the halflings, particularly Frodo and Sam.
Was there something there? He had said that the fellowship had become separated when the Uruk-Hai attacked, but he always omitted the reason for the separation, or what drove Frodo and Sam to be foolhardy as to continue on the quest alone.
“My lady?” Boromir said, a frown forming on his face. 
“Forgive me, I have been lost in thought,” you said. “Your company would be delightful.”  He offered you a fleeting smile and the both of you drifted towards one of the small balconies overlooking the fields. You rested your arms on the cool bannister and gazed out at the carnage. 
“I wish I could go with the soldiers to The Black Gate,” you murmured. “I feel guilty that I am unable to fulfil my duty to my people.”
“I understand what you mean,” he said, voice low. “To have my father so recently gone, and Faramir and I here… It feels as though the House of the Steward is shirking its duty.”
“But you have done your duty — shepherding the ringbearer, travelling by yourself from Rohan to Minas Tirith, wounded, to warn your people. But me?” You could not help the note of bitterness that seeped into your voice. “I did not fight at Helm's Deep, I left my people at Dunharrow, arrived just in time to join the battle here and still managed to wound myself and fail to defend my lady Eowyn.” 
“I would tell you not to be so harsh on yourself, but I think it would be hypocritical of me.” He gave you a wry smile before his face grew serious again. “Though, my time away from my city and the hours I have spent alone here in bed have made me question how I value pride and valour and duty. It has made me wonder how easily the pursuit of such things may warp one’s actions.”
You eyed him, curious but cautious. The red light on the horizon only served to highlight his handsome features. The line from his brow to his nose was strong, and his chin was lifted, still proud and noble even in such dire circumstances. And his eyes, all grey and cold steel, were burning with intensity. 
Would it be better to be tactful? Or would directness be best with a man like Boromir? 
“Did something occur on your quest?” you asked, trying to keep your voice light. “Such thoughts rarely arise without some sort of event to drive them.”
He paused and looked at you, his gaze hardening then softening. He let out a long breath and shook his head. “You must forgive me. You have been frank with your… perceived failings, but I fear I am still too proud of a man to admit my own. Perhaps in time I will forgive myself enough to share my shame.”
You nodded slowly. “I hope when the time comes you will find in me a good enough friend to speak of such things. Sometime in… the future.”
“Ah yes, the future. Here on the cusp of destruction, can we even speak of such things?”
“I must confess, I have lived so long in the shadow of the Enemy, I am uncertain what I shall do with myself once it is all over.” You sighed, wistful. “My family rares and cares for the horses that the Rohirrim ride on — it is how Eowyn and I met as children — I was to carry on the tradition but… More swords were needed, and I felt a need to stand by and protect Eowyn while she was still restrained by the trappings of her position.”
He hummed. “I am the same as you — I do not know what I shall do once we have victory and peace. I suppose either my brother or I will take up the mantle of Steward. Faramir is far more suited than I am, so I’ll have to find some way to occupy myself.” He grinned. “Maybe I shall take up smithing or music or… weaving.”
You laughed, lightness slowly filling your chest. “All those things require patience, Boromir. Are you sure you have enough supply of it?”
He chuckled. “We will have to see. I have not had much time in my life to explore what else I may pursue and enjoy.”
“I am the same. Maybe I will join you in your smithing or music or weaving.” 
Another laugh burst from him and suddenly he looked young and boyish, his head thrown back, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and your heart leapt from your chest. You turned away from the horizon and looked towards the comforting warm light of the torches. “We should make a list.”
“A list?”
“Yes, to ensure we have a good variety of activities to try. At the very least, it would serve as a distraction for the time being.”
“Very well.” He gestured towards the corridor, a wide smile on his face. “Lead on, my lady.”
-
Boromir frowned at the paper flower in his hand. The binding’s tension was uneven and the delicate paper was mangled and creased. Merry and Pippin had somehow convinced him to help them make decorative flowers in preparation for Aragorn’s coronation. The hobbits had shyly offered to create something for the high table, and Aragorn, forever fond of his little friends, had given them free reign. 
He sighed and tossed the ruined flower off to the side. 
You came through the archway and into the little alcove the hobbits had commandeered and smiled at him in greeting.
You were dressed in a set of borrowed clothes and your hair was done up in a simple braid. The Gondorian cut and style complemented your figure, and you stood strong and healthy and radiant. His eyes lingered on you for a moment, before he looked back down at the table. You were not for him, never for him. If you knew the depths of his treachery, there was no doubt you would scorn him.
The last couple of weeks were spent in a wild fervour. Between managing the city with Faramir, he had attempted the activities on the list he shared with you. You had excelled in the wood carving, your little bear more detailed and fine than his, but he had bested you at the loom, his piece of fabric coming out more smooth and even than yours. Pottery, painting, gardening, juggling, needlework — the both of you attempted whatever your injuries allowed.
He adored the way you looked when you were concentrating. Your eyes were downcast and focused, your brow just slightly knitted, and you had this endearing habit of tilting your head just so when something vexed you. Each time he met with you, he searched for ways to elicit your smile, fumbled with something just to get you to laugh, even at his own expense. What a privilege it was to see the respected and stalwart shield-maiden soften and melt. It was even more of a privilege to watch you with the horses.
The old stable master had taken to you instantly, curious and interested in what you had to say about the care and rearing of horses, and nearly every morning you had gone down to the stables to check on the animals. He had watched as you taught the shy stableboys how to braid the horses manes, your deft fingers working the strands, and listened as you told them what sort of grains and seed were best for the foals.
You seemed to come alive in the stables, eyes bright and smiles brighter. Was this what you looked like unburdened by duty and responsibility? Was this what you could become, always?
The stablemaster was old, due to retire, and perhaps…
He shoved the thought out of his mind. 
You were friendly enough with him, playful and affectionate with your comments sometimes, but if you knew the truth… How could someone like you, loyal and strong, look past his mistake with Frodo? No. It was better to keep you at arms length, as a friend. Whatever disappointment you felt with him would be more tolerable.
“Having trouble?” you asked, plucking the ruined flower from the table and holding it up to the light. 
“You are welcome to give them an attempt if you wish,” he said, gesturing to the empty seat beside him. “Valar knows we’ll need more hands if we are to finish these. I can teach you.”
You slid into the chair and watched as he moved through the steps. The flower looked better than its previous counterpart but it still looked a little wrong somehow. “Where are Merry and Pippin?” you asked, taking a sheet and mimicking his steps, folding the paper and trimming the edges.
“They have gone to visit Frodo and Sam.”
“And you did not follow?”
He shook his head and kept his eyes fixed on the sheet of paper. In truth, he had already gone to see Frodo. There, in the quiet and privacy of Frodo’s room, Boromir had wept and fallen to his knees, asking, nearly begging, for forgiveness. Frodo’s eyes, so wide and expressive, had softened and watered. He clasped Boromir’s hand, bid him to rise, and gave his forgiveness right then and there. 
But how could it be so simple? So easy? Was there not some sort of trial, some sort of penance, that he must perform to earn such forgiveness? 
You let out a little gasp of delight and presented your flower to him. It was beautiful and well formed, the petals fanned and splayed, the perfect facsimile of a blooming flower. “You know,” you said with a smile. “This is probably one of the more agreeable activities we have done.”
He wished he could spar with you, to connect with you in the mutual language of battle,  but alas, your injuries and his were still healing. He rolled his shoulder, the muscle still stiff and sore from the wound, and grimaced.
“It is still not healing well?” you asked, lowering your flower.
“The infection from before did more damage than previously thought. It is healing, just slowly, the matrons assured me.”
“Merry and Pippin told me how you faced the Uruk-Hai by yourself. Truly, a remarkably brave act.”
He deflated a little in his chair, thumbing the edge of the thin paper. “Bravery did not enter into my mind at that time. I thought only of my friends who, at that time, were neither ranger or soldier.” 
“Still, it was a brave act.”
“Brave… but not strong.”
“Boromir,” you said, exasperated. “The fact that you are still alive now is testament to your strength.”
“It is not the strength of body I am speaking of but rather the strength of will.” He shook his head and forced a smile onto his face. “What am I speaking about? These are merry times and happy days — we should not dwell on such ill things of the past.”
You paused, eyeing him. “Just as our bodies sometimes fail us, so do our minds. In Rohan, we learn in our training that it does us no good to fault and blame our bodies when they cannot perform as we wish — it simply gets in the way of learning, and more importantly, healing — it would seem remiss to not extend that same grace to our minds.”
Grace. Forgiveness. Gentleness. He had never been able to afford such luxuries, not ever since his mother died and he and Faramir had to grow up all too fast in the shadow of Mordor. Faramir seemed to be easing into the position of Steward comfortably, looking far more at home in the office than he did in the barracks, and even Eowyn was getting on well in the Houses of Healing. 
People were… moving on. Or at the very least, trying to. 
He picked up a sheet of paper and began folding it, binding the middle and trimming the ends. He started to unravel the petals but only managed to put his thumb through it.
 Could he move on as well? Was he allowed to?
“Here, like this,” you murmured and reached over. “Slowly. Gently.”
You guided his fingers, and right in his hands, his flower bloomed.
-
Early morning light glowed through the open ends of the stables. The air was warm and musky and you inhaled, relaxing into the familiar scent of horse and hay. The stableboys were yet to turn up for the day and you took your time greeting the horses individually. One of your favourites, a beautiful black steed with a glossy coat, nudged your outstretched hand and dipped its head while you stroked it affectionately. 
There seemed no end to the post-war celebrations with the coronation beginning a stream of parties and dinners, lunches and teas, but finally after nearly two weeks, the city was blessedly calm. You pressed your forehead to the cheek of the horse and sighed. He was warm and solid, grounded and real. The days and nights had passed like a dream. Boromir, smiling at you over the rim of his mug. Boromir, meeting your glances across the room. Boromir, taking you into his arms, your bodies moving in sync with the music.
He had been so close, so warm. His smell, salt and cedar, enveloped you. You had looked up into his eyes, the candlelight flickering in them, and nearly leaned in.
The horse snorted and you stepped back. What were you thinking? There was no time for such things. You were still yet to find yourself in this new world of peace, King Theoden still needed to be buried and mourned. Eowyn would return to Minas Tirith in due time — Faramir had all but formally proposed, waiting for the mourning period to be over — but what about you? 
Eomer had assured you that if you wished to return to Rohan there would be a place for you as part of the personal guard but was that something you even wished for yourself? 
Minas Tirith had grown on you. The bustle of the morning markets, the distant bell that tolled every hour, the ivy covered walls, the polished marble. Boromir had even promised to take you to Dol Amroth to see the ocean one day. And Eowyn would be here in Gondor.
It had been so lovely working with the horses and the stableboys, your muscles remembering the things you had been taught as a child. It felt like some part of you, long dormant, was finally waking up. The stable master had mentioned that he was planning on retiring soon. Perhaps you could speak to Boromir and Faramir about filling the post. 
You hummed to yourself. With Boromir retaining his position as Captain of Gondor, there was something deeply satisfying about the thought of caring for the steeds he and his men would ride on. 
“My lady?”
You turned and found Boromir standing by the entrance of the stable. He was in his casual tunic and trousers, and his hair was lightly tousled. Boromir looked the best liked this, just slightly dishevelled, loose and relaxed. 
“Good morning,” you said. “It’s early, even for you.”
“I wished to speak with you. You and Eowyn will be heading back to Rohan in a few days and I wanted to discuss something with you before you left.”
You tilted your head, curious. “Very well. Let us speak outside.”
He nodded and the both of you made your way out to a small open balcony that overlooked the rest of the circles. The air was warm and balmy and the scent of freshly baked bread wafted on the breeze. Boromir stood beside you and surveyed the city. 
“I never thought I would see the day where there was no shadow on the horizon, that my people would wake and live in peace.”
“Yes,” you murmured. “There is change in the air, a renewal. It is quite exciting to witness.”
“Speaking of change…” He turned to face you. “I am sure you are well aware that our stable master is thinking of retiring. Faramir and I have been discussing and we were wondering if you would be open to fulfilling the position.” He glanced away then back at you. “You and I will be working with each other, of course, with regards to the Calvary. Before you accept, there is something… something I wish for you to know.”
His eyes swept down and his jaw tensed. “Go on, my friend,” you said gently. 
“The Ring… I had tried to take it from Frodo. He had gone off to think and I had followed him. In my weakness, I —” He swallowed. “That was why he had continued on alone with Sam.”
You had suspected as much, gleaned from his various comments and the way he would both keep his distance from Frodo but be overly courteous in his presence. “The Ring had tempted many over the years. I do not think any less of you. And… this may be presumptuous, but knowing you, I suspect you were motivated out of love for your city and your people rather than any personal gain.”
He exhaled, short and sharp, and a wry smile crossed his face. “You know me too well.”
You shrugged. “We are friends, are we not? Friends and —”
You snapped your mouth shut and looked away. What were you going to say? ‘More’? How foolish. The man had just offered you a job, for Valar’s sake. He was a friend. A friend.
“And?”
You hazarded a look at him. His eyes were wide and his lips were parted in disbelief. Was it possible that…? 
“I… I do not know,” you muttered, and he deflated a little. His mild disappointment emboldened you and you continued. “Sometimes, I think I see more in your eyes, but I can never be sure.”
“You are not mistaken,” he said, straightening his shoulders and meeting your eyes. Your heart sped up and hope sparked in your chest. “But I do not wish for this to sway your decision in accepting the position. I —”
“Either way, I would accept. I do accept.” You smiled. “Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to oversee and care for the steeds of Gondor. Except, perhaps,” you added softly, “being able to be by your side.”
A smile broke out on his face, open and unguarded, and the years fell away from him. He offered his hand, palm up, and you reached out, intertwining your fingers with his.
He chuckled and shook his head. “Faramir has always berated me for my lack of romantic tendencies and I always dismissed him. For the first time, I wish I had paid more attention in my poetry classes.”
“I do not need to be wooed with poetry and flowery words, Boromir.” You laughed and he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. “Besides, it is not our way.”
“What is the Rohirric way?”
“Sometimes courting couples braid the manes of each other’s horses, weaving in their family’s colours or tokens. Wealthier families exchange horses to show that their horses are healthy and well-trained, that they can be trusted with the care of their partner, to carry and support them through life.”
He nodded. “I like that. It is practical and… sweet, in a way. I would offer to give you a horse, but I have just given you a stable full of them I suppose.” You laughed and he shared a smile with you. “In seriousness, I wish to court you properly. I understand that you will have to go back to Rohan, and there are matters to sort out. But when you return to Minas Tirith…”
“Yes. Whatever you wish, yes.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Whatever I wish? A dangerous thing to say.”
“I trust you.”
He leaned in and kissed your temple, his warm breath tickling your hair. He smiled against your skin and drew back.
“So yes,” you murmured, grinning. “Whatever you wish.”
___
I really wanted the reader to have some sort of arc/development as well, and not just act as some developmental catalyst for Boromir - I hope that came through.
@mileycyprus-hill
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whosthere54 · 12 hours
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It’s time for prison duo and promise rings chat.
Ignore the fact that I included the things in this I’m still in denial /lh/j
It’s not the best but I hope you enjoy reading it anyways <3
-=+=-
<Sherbertquake> Hey, are you busy?
<Centross> No, not at the moment. Why?
<Sherbertquake> I had something I wanted to show you. Meet me up on the Ice above your house?
<Centross> I’ll be there.
They sighed, putting their communicator back in their pocket and running a hand through their messy hair.
“It’ll be fine, yeah?” The things all murmured in agreement, some giving encouragement and some fueling their anxiety. Torn as always.
They reached into their other pocket to fidget with the ring.
“It’s just a promise, I don’t know why I’m so worried about it…” they mumble, pulling the ring out and turning it over in their hands.
It turned out okay. Better than they’d expected actually. They had a lot of time to make it as nice as possible in the world-port, but you can only do so much with Obsidian.
The ring itself was made out of obsidian, winding around some of the old Crystal shards from their wings. One Amethyst and one Gold. They were able to chip it down to make it look decent, though there were still rough edges. The things just said it made it better, clearly handmade. Others said it gave it ✨personality✨ or whatever that’s supposed to mean. The things particularly enjoyed the carving left on the inside, as if he’d even notice it.
“My Soul”
They’d thought about what to put in there a lot, bounding ideas off the empty corridors of the worldport before landing on that one.
They shook the doubts out of their head for the moment taking a breath and putting the ring back in their pocket. They grab their rockets and take off, taking a moment to ground themselves in the feeling of the cool evening air against their face, the feeling of flight sadly unfamiliar after their time in the worldport.
They landed on the snow, their landing now messy despite how much they’d worked to perfect it again. They heard the distant noise of rockets, and turned just as Centross landed beside them. Dark purple with bones rattling against each other as he landed.
“Hey Ic” He lightly hits their arm.
“Hi” they laugh softly batting his hand away. “Just wanted to show you somethin. You got rockets?” They pull their own back out as he nods.
“Okay. We’re gonna head straight…” they turn to face the edge of the mountain. “This way.” They point to where the sun was just visible beyond the horizon.
They fly for a bit, silence between them as they just breathe. Eventually, they reach another snowy area. They landed in an area they’d cleared beforehand. It was nothing fancy, the things suggested a lot of options but they’d agreed on stargazing. They’d set up just a small blanket, lanterns lighting up a small patch creating an area not covered in snow.
Soon enough, they’d settled down on the blanket. Just talking about anything and everything. It was nice, peaceful. It made them almost forget about the anxiety that caused their hands to continue to shake.
After a particularly long moment of calm silence, they say up, turning to him. “I did promise there was a reason I pulled you out here”
Centross smiled, “Oh what, it wasn’t just cause you wanted to spend time with me”
They laugh softly shaking their head. “It’s not like that, you know that.” They fidgeted with their gloves anxiously for a moment before they continued speaking.
“Look, I don’t know how I’m going to say any of this so bear with me okay?” They smile softly. “First, I want to preface this by saying you don’t have to take it. I’m not going to blame you if you don’t want it.”
The things scold them a moment, keeping themselves optimistic.
“With that said,” They pull out the ring from their pocket. “I do want to make a promise.” They fidget with the ring a moment before continuing.
“I don’t want to make this a big thing. I just made this because I thought it would be nice to have a physical reminder that I’m not going anywhere.”
They pause a moment, “You don’t have to take it, this isn’t something I want to force on you or anything like that and it’s not a long term commitment of any kind, no strings attached. It’s just a promise that I care, that you’re “my person” or something like that. That I’m not leaving no matter how much you want to get rid of me.”
They keep their eyes cast down, fidgeting with their hands and not once looking at Centross. After a moment, he carefully takes their hands in his. He lightly squeezed them taking the promise ring out of their hand to look at it before smiling moving to cup his hand against their face, leaning so their foreheads were pressed together.
“You’re an idiot, y’know that?” He murmurs softly, flipping the ring over in his hands again. He runs his finger lightly over the carving on the inside with a soft smile. “And a sap.”
They laugh, muttering a quiet “shut up” moving so their forehead was resting lightly against his shoulder. He hummed softly, moving to put the ring on his hand before carding fingers lightly through their hair.
They sit in silence for a bit, laying against each-other like that.
“You know I meant it when I said you are never alone, friend.” He murmured against their hair. “That’s not goin’ anywhere. I’m not goin’ anywhere Feather.” He laughs softly, “sadly, you’re stuck with me.”
They laughed with him.
They weren’t going to be alone. Not with him, not anymore. They were safe. His arms wrapped around them keeping them grounded, keeping them here.
With him they felt like they could be a person again. They could at-least try to be, if not for themselves for him.
After all, he doesn’t deserve a ghost.
-=+=-
Wow I really did make myself watch taking it down and cry while writing this. It’s fineee.
Hope you enjoy, make sure to drink some water, eat some food, take a break, and take any meds if you need to! You are loved <3
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satureja13 · 3 days
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Even though Jack had such an amazing day with Lou, he couldn't wait to log out and tell the others that the second painful spot is gone! Since their therapies go so well, they don't monitor each session all together anymore. One of them is supposed to be near the one who's currently ingame, so they installed an opening in the kitchen to the therapy room.
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Jack immediately took off the VR glasses and the robo arm and his shirt to show Ji Ho his progress ^^' Ji Ho: "Oh Jack, that's amazing!" Jack: "All thanks to our incredible Tiny Can! Let's show the others! Ah I'm so glad I didn't give up and went back ingame!" Ji Ho: "I'm so happy for you." Jack: "I love you too :3 "
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Meanwhile Saiwa is working hard to overcome his 'bird/fake relationship/Kiyoshi/Jeb problems... He went all in in his exposure therapy and even placed flamingo lounge chairs so he can practice here too... But he's having a hard time going through all these memories again. And Vlad wasn't very helpful. He's still worrying what Caleb might do with Ji Ho in Ji Ho's therapy. Saiwa sighed: "Don't give Ji Ho a hard time, hm? Try a little harder to make him feel good so he won't fall even more for Caleb. It will soon be over and then he's yours alone. Hang on." Sai already told him this a few times before. But he also knows how hard it is to change and accept things one couldn't change.
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Luckily Jack came running along with Ji Ho to disturb their gloomy thoughts with his never failing puppy energy ^^' Saiwa heard their footsteps and was alarmed. He always expects the worst when Jack is involved ö.Ö' Saiwa: "Omg - did something go wrong?" Jack: "VLAD! SAI! The second spot is already gone! Only ONE left!"
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Saiwa, relieved: "That's unbelievable! I never imagined it would ever get better without you getting back together with Kiyoshi! I mean, he's your fated mate. How is it possible you can leave him just like that?" Jack: "Hey, I endured over 6 months of searing pain! Fate learned now that I'm determined! Plus I'm the Su..." The others chimed in: "Super Soldier!" (hahaha, them ^^')
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They are so happy for Jack :3 There is a new area to sit outside by the river and they gathered by the fire. Jack told them about his insightful talk with Lou which also inspired the others to try to find ways to improve their relationships. And, since the Therapy Game is going so well for them, they also discussed how they could make it acessable for the creatures in the real world, as planned. They currently can't be of any help for other creatures in the Muggle World who suffer under the Council and from other hazards. The least they can do is to offer them the Therapy Game. Vlad only listens half-heartedly.
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Jack tries to convince Saiwa to let him go back in his therapy before the others but Saiwa insists that they take turns. Ji Ho's therapy is important too. To finally find his buried feelings and to get this over with Caleb to prevent Vlad from going insane... Which is nearer than one might think because suddenly he jumped up in and threw a jealousy tantrum...
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Jack: "We should leave them alone."
Ji Ho: "We'll talk about the game later." Only Ji Ho can fix him.
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Jack: "Come on, Sai. Let them charge the Bond. We'll go and play Simbles." Sai looked questioning at Ji Ho and he nodded.
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Doesn't mean it isn't still awkward as hell when they're alone...
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Ji Ho eventually made the first move and carefully approached Vlad - and Vlad hissed! But Ji Ho learned not to be offended. The Bond already told him how much Vlad craves Ji Ho's touch. He just can't let his foolish pride and priciples go...
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The Little Goats Satyrs have a new friend as it seems! Little Dust Bunny joined them and they are briefing him on the story hahaha
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Until Little Goat heard some highly anticipated and telling noises... He sneaked around the corner to take a look.
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Little Goat: 'Boys! Come over! They're doing it!!!' Little Dust Bunny: 'Whoa!' The Little Goats delivered on their promises ^^'
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'Reach out, touch faith
Your own personal Jesus, someone to hear your prayers Someone who cares Your own personal Jesus, someone to hear your prayers Someone who's there'
Personal Jesus - Depeche Mode
Ji Ho hesitantly reached out for Vlad and he looks a bit worried because he knows how much Vlad tries to avoid getting overly physical as long as Ji Ho isn't able to love him... And Ji Ho still can't get used to Vlad's hairless chest ^^'
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Ji Ho: "I'm yours alone. I only want you." That's what the Bond is telling Vlad too but it's still killing him that Ji Ho is going to marry Caleb ingame. Ji Ho will make him forget it. At least for a while. Little Goats and Little Dust Bunny: 'Aouwww!'
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Poor Jack and Saiwa. Let's hope they'll find love again soon too.
(I took a lot of pics of Vlad and Ji Ho in the hot tub. I'll make a little extra post like last time ^^')
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Addendum: After I posted 'A Rainy Night in Soho' in the last episode, I googled around a bit for Nick Cave and this song and I found out that he and Shane had been good friends. And that Nick sang 'A Rainy Night in Soho' at Shane's funeral. I didn't cry when I heard that Shane died, but when I watched the video, I did. (I still do as I write this. Thank you for the music, Shane.)
'Now the song is nearly over We may never find out what it means Still there's a light I hold before me You're the measure of my dreams The measure of my dreams'
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The Therapy Game Master Post with the sessions and places so far is -> here
From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest Current Chapter: 🕹️ 'The One' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28
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evansboyfriend · 3 days
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am i the only person who doesn't see buck as a people pleaser?
i see him as caring and attentive and someone who goes the extra mile to help the people he loves. he's someone you can rely on to be there when you need them.
people pleasing is a very specific trauma response behaviour that essentially means ignoring your own wants and needs, prioritising others over yourself, making yourself smaller, trying to keep the peace, not rock the boat.
that's not the buck who quit his job when he was desked. who sued the LAFD to get his job back. the guy who told the newbie "you're my problem" and ripped off bosko's temporary label from his designated shelf. or how about when his relationship with ali ended because she couldn't handle his risky job, and buck wasn't willing to compromise on it? when he told taylor kelly that they can wipe the slate clean between them but not continue their relationship? when he broke up with natalia because he realised she wasn't really interested in him as an actual person? if he ever displayed this behaviour, might've been with abby, which was a wholly fucked up relationship with buck looking for commitment (maybe for the first time in his life?) with a woman who wasn't looking for anything serious. but even then when he had doubts he talked to bobby about it.
my point is, when buck's upset about something, he doesn't stay quiet about it. he doesn't neglect his own wellbeing and doesn't compromise his peace just to make others happy. he'll go about it in very wrong ways, especially in the earlier seasons when he was still young and hadn't even began unpacking his childhood trauma, and he's matured since then, of course. and I think he had that "people would be better off without me" mentality but i don't think ive seen it since his coma, when he said that being buck is enough. he has grown so much (and i hope he will hold on to his newfound self esteem, i hope nothing will ever make him doubt his own worth).
but even in s7 - when he was bothered and did something about it. again, went about it the wrong ways. but he went to talk to maddie when he hurt eddie, admitted his mistake, made up with him (even though we didnt see it on screen). and then again when he thought he had sabotaged his first date with tommy, he talked to maddie and eddie, and then he reached out to ask for another chance, and invited him to his sister's wedding, insisting tommy should come as his date because he wanted him there (i'm not saying he wouldn't have taken no for an answer, but he knows what he wants and is vocal about it). and - throwing a bachelor party for chimney, who didn't even want one, but buck wanted to do the nice thing for his friend/future BIL and he made a theme around things chimney likes. being there for eddie and christopher but setting his boundaries ("i dont think i can explain this") because he cares about them and wants to help them any way he can.
this doesn't read as people-pleasing behaviour to me. buck is someone who cares so fucking much, no doubt about it, his compassion for others is endless. but he also goes for the things he wants and stands up for himself against things he doesn't tolerate.
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dairyfreenugget · 2 months
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(Going insane boinkinh one AU in my head)
Hey hey hey
May I interest you in
(Slowly slides my FaaF AU towards you but void just Disappears without a trace one day before the accolade)
Teehee
#thylacines can talk#faaf au#i love this au very yummy. a very fun twist on how Flower's dynamic with their parents would progress afterwards#the vessels live but the void exits their bodies in quite a violent manner (extreme pain and literally throwing up an entire person worth of#void). Flower was on guard duty and theyre found barely conscious in a pool of rapidly evaporating void. passes out seconds later#PK also had the displeasure of experiencing extene pain and burning as void forced its way out through his skin <3 And his moulds all melted#and evaporated. after the initial shock wears off theyre hit with “Oh No#the vessel“ and rush to find them. Well somebody else was already looking for the royal pair about this#Flower wakes up dazed and in pain in their father's workshop. their stomach hurts their throat burns and they feel lightheaded. the entire#place is considerably brighter than they remember and in they can hear two faint voices in the background but theyre too preoccupied with#examining their now pure white hand in shock to focus on anything else. until they hear their mother say “My wyrm they're awake” and#suddenly their parents are by their side. Now the two have no idea what void leaving their body might have done to them. Are they still#hollow? are they still dead? do they understand anything are they sentient? or was what was done pernament even without the void? do they#have the mind of a child if their sentience was restored? or do they remember anything? So WL stays by their side and helps them sit up#while their father goes to grab his tools. She's trying to keep them calm and comfort them but theyre still too disoriented to pay her much#attention. Until their father checks their breathing and they yelp audibly from the cool metal contacting their skin and suddenly they seem#much more alert. theyve never experienced true coldness before. PK quickly apologises and tries to be gentler with them. Theyre breathing#properly and they have a heartbeat. And he just pauses for a long while just. listening to their heart beating. Many emotions to be had#after the exam's over he asks them point blank how theyre feeling. And Flower looks up at him still seeming a little disoriented. and then#they lower their hand to their stomach and mutter 'My tummy hurts...a-and my throat burns'. It's to be expected after the way the void#left their body. so he goes to grab them some water and meds and they also ask for food and a mirror. And after he returns they just stare#at themself in the mirror and pull on their bangs for a while then blurt out 'I have your eyes' when PK asks if everything's okay. And he#and he almost chokes up as he replies 'Yeah...Yeah you do'. Flower eventually spins a lie that they remember everything but its all distant#and blurry. Like they were not aware until now. They figured it'd be better to not break their hearts#And now the three have to figure out how to be a family while PK is also scrambling to find a new solution to the infection#oops i meant to only give a brief rundown in the tags which is why it was in the tags. but i got too invested KDHDKFB
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