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#the devil writes romance
heavenlyraindrops · 1 month
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Hello! can you see a girl reader who wants to be perfect in everything (in appearance, in weight and in work) and cries if someone bypasses her? characters: adam or lucifer :)
“ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ” ——> ᴀᴅᴀᴍ & ʟᴜᴄɪꜰᴇʀ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ——> ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1.2ᴋ | ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀꜱꜱᴜʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ
warnings: profanity, mentions of not eating (? Idk)
A/N: omds my first request! thanks anon, hope this is on par with what you were hoping for! Soz if I got anything wrong/ misinterpreted the request :(
——> Lucifer:
You smoothed your hands down your sides, eyes locking onto the reflection in the mirror and assessing the dress you were wearing. You were due to visit Charlie and the Hotel- she was holding some event- soon with your husband. 
But you knew you couldn’t. Not right then, in that state of mind. 
Your muscles ached with hours of stress and overworking yourself, the eye bags that carved shadows into your face from the lack of sleep hidden by your makeup. You loathed the way you looked- not because it was ugly, you were beautiful enough- but because it wasn’t perfect enough. 
You were worried you weren’t good enough for Lucifer. You were worried you weren’t as good as her. Lilith. 
Be anything, you’d think. Be anything you want. Just be better than her. 
You knew this sort of mindset wasn’t healthy, but you craved to be like her, to be better. Her figure, her looks, her success. Whenever you were with Lucifer, you felt like the shadow of her loomed over you, foreboding, ominous. And no amount of his kisses and affirmations could make it go away.
Of course, it wasn’t just Lilith- you were an obsessive perfectionist at heart. Your desire to be perfect already had its grip on you, but then you saw her and you realized that you weren’t at the top. You weren’t the best, as long as she was there. And it crushed you.
Sometimes you’d go without food. Sometimes you’d go without sleep. Sometimes Lucifer would kiss you and tell you he loved you and then your eyes would fall onto her portrait, gleaming in the shadows, and every ounce of warmth would rush out of your body.
Three knocks sounded on the bathroom door, and you flinched out of your haze of misery. 
“Angel?” His voice drifted in through the door. “You okay in there?”
No. No. Not now. Tears threatened to spill over. You clenched your fists, nails digging into your palm. Of course my brain decided to make me have a breakdown now. Perfect timing. 
You opened your mouth, to speak, your chest clenching as you tried to keep your voice steady. “I…” you trailed off suddenly, clamping your lips together after hearing your own voice. “I’m fine.”
A beat for silence. “You’re not fine. Open the door.”
You did, hoping to god your face didn’t betray how you felt. His arms were crossed, sleeves rolled up and coat and hat off. You shrunk in on yourself as his frown deepened once he saw your face. 
“What’s wrong?” He said, gently, quietly, as if you would break. “You’ve been acting off lately.” His hand searched for yours to hold. Eyes soft and concerned. Your heart tore.
And then the dam broke. You slumped your tears rushing like a huge tidal wave, the storm behind your eyes pouring out and suffocating you. 
Within moments his arms surrounded your shaking shoulders, as you curled into his shoulder, your body racked with sobs. “Hush,” he soothed, stroking your hair away. His body was tense under his shirt, you noticed as you clutched the fabric, and you suddenly felt a jolt of nausea. You pushed him away. 
“Don’t look at me,” you sobbed, hiding your face in your hands as you curled in on yourself on the cold tiles. 
“Why?” Lucifer said, voice beseeching you to listen. He took hold of your wrists, pulling them away from your face. “[name], just talk to me.”
You sniffled, face burning as he cupped your face in his hands. “Cause I look hideous,” you muttered. His eyes swept over you, taking you in thoughtfully. 
“You don’t look hideous.”
“Yes I do,” you choked out, and he sighed, his breath skimming your nose. “I’m not good enough.” The words tumbled out of you as you struggled to rein them in, to control your tongue. “I need to be perfect, but-“
“Hey, hey,” he said, firmly, shushing you. “Who said you need to be perfect? Who said you aren’t already?”
You blinked at him. “Huh? I- no one-“
“Then shut up,” he muttered, pressing his lips to your forehead. “You’re already beautiful, understood? You’re the most perfect person I’ve ever met. You don’t need to be any better.”
Your heart swelled, tears drying on your face as you took in the way he looked at you. You pulled him in for a kiss before quickly wiping your eyes. Mascara smeared on the side of your hand, and you cursed, stumbling up.
He grabbed you by the waist, pulling you out of the bathroom. “Not now, darling,” he murmured, pulling you back into the bedroom. “Worry about that later.”
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “We’re probably late now and-“
“We’re not going,” he said, and held open his arms, legs pressed to the side of the bed. Without thinking, you immediately crawled into his arms. 
You closed your eyes, the steady beat of his heart calming you, the warmth radiating from his body engulfing you. His voice rumbled against your hair. “I love you, got that?”
“I love you too.”
——> Adam:
“Babe, you need to start fucking eating more.”
Your eyes locked with Adam’s behind you in the mirror as you ran your hands down your sides, tracing your figure. You hated it- so much, because you knew you weren’t good enough. Mediocre at best- and you couldn’t stand that. 
I’m a Winner. I need to be perfect. For Heaven, for myself. You met Adam’s eyes again. For Adam. 
He’d had two wives before you. What if you weren’t enough?
And on the other hand, there was Lute. God, you wanted to be her so bad. You’d always been number two to her, in your own mind at least, and it was slowly driving you insane. Her voice, her body, hair, skills, everything about her screamed unique, cool, original, individualistic- you could have gone on forever. And you, in comparison, were just… plain.
The mere thought clawed at you like a wild, desperate animal. Your husband’s eyes in the mirror held concern for you- concern that made your stomach churn. 
“I’m fine. Aren’t you going to eat dinner?”
He rolled his eyes. “The fuck’s the point of eating dinner alone when you’re right here?” 
You fought to keep your voice calm as his gaze pierced through you, your shoulders sinking. “I’m not hungry.” As if on cue, your stomach grumbled. 
He ran a hand through his brown hair, fluffing it up, exasperated. You flushed as he grabbed your waist, pulling you in, before his hand fell to your hip and squeezed. 
“Goddammit, [name], you think I don’t fucking know what you’re doing? It’s obvious you’re starving yourself.” He pressed a kiss to your neck and you pushed him away gently. 
“Starving is an overstatement,” you said weakly, and your stomach grumbled again. He pinched your cheek furiously. 
“What are you even gonna fuckin’ get outta this?”
You hugged your sides, a lump forming in your throat at the angry look on his face. “Are you mad at me?”
The furious expression etched across his face fell immediately? “Huh? What? No.” His face fell even more as you turned away, rubbing your eyes. “I’m just mad you think you need to stop eating for whatever reason-“
“Whatever reason?” You bit out. “Look at me, Adam! I’m not enough. I need to be perfect. I can’t-“
“You are perfect,” he said flatly. You froze, looking at him. Your own ragged breathing was the only thing you heard, apart from the ticking of the clock. He stared back. You knew he wasn’t good at comforting- so you also knew he wasn’t saying this for your own benefit. 
“I’m not,” you forced out the words, “I’m not good enough.” You gestured to him, then around you. “For you, for everyone. I’m not the best version of myself, I can’t-“
“For fucks sake,” he snapped, cupping your face in his hands and roughly pulling you in for a kiss, tongue immediately swiping over your lips. He pulled away, breath hot on your face.“If you weren’t good I wouldn’t have fuckin’ married you.”
The sincereness lining the rough edges of his tone set it in for you, and you kissed back before he pulled away, and he linked his arm with yours and dragged you into the kitchen, huffing. 
You flopped down onto the kitchen table where he left you before he returned with a plate of food, sitting opposite you. He propped himself up on his elbows and quirked an eyebrow. 
“Eat,” he said.
You did.
“Good?”
You nodded, wolfing down some more. He chuckled, and leaned over, kissing your forehead. 
“Love you. Don’t fuckin’ forget that.”
You sighed, then smiled. “Love you too.” 
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thebarontheabyss · 7 days
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If your okay with spicy asks, How do you think the RO's would react to the MC giving them bedroom eyes from across a room, maybe at a meeting/ party?
I love every ask as if it were my firstborn!
Now let's spice things up 👀 Also, it's a perfect opportunity to finally use the LI artwork in asks!
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Good luck trying to convey the meaning of "bedroom eyes" to Death. In the best-case scenario, they will assume there's something on their face. In the worst-case scenario, their immediate thought will be, "Oh no, are they mad at me? Did I do something wrong?" as their poor little heart performs a free-fall inside their chest.
Now, if you were to tell them what you want explicitly… Contrary to popular belief, the Grim Reaper is not very subtle, so don't expect the entire room not to notice as Death a) breaks something accidentally or b) just freezes in their spot, caught completely off-guard.
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And now, to the OTHER side of the spectrum, there's a good chance that Lilith/Damian was already the first to initiate the bedroom eyes stare.
But should you get ahead of them, they will nod, their lips forming a sly smile, and approach you. "Meet me in your room in ten minutes," they whisper in your ear before blending into the crowd again.
Why the ten minutes, you ask? Well, maybe they want to torture you a little longer.
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Morgan/a will probably chuckle, maybe a bit too loudly, catching the attention of those around.
Standing across the room from them, you hear their voice talking in your mind: "Did you just give me the look I thought you gave me?" As you respond with a positive grin, they ensure that everything and everyone that could keep you away from their bedroom is conveniently forgotten or dismissed: the person talking to you suddenly forgets their point, leaving you free to make your way to Morgan/a, their magic guiding your steps.
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Hastur immediately recognizes the look and tries to resist as much as possible, glancing nervously at Cassy to gauge her level of distraction.
But if the timing is right and Cassy is preoccupied, Hastur's walls will soon crumble, and quickly, you will find yourself "looking at the security feeds" in his room as he hastily removes your clothes. "This is unprofessional. It will not happen again," he lies to himself, as his actions betray his words.
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Peisinoe will take your lustful gaze as an invitation to a battle of wits. Prepare for a night of relentless teasing and flirtation, the foreplay of subtlety and conversation stretching on deliciously.
But as they say, good things come to those who wait, and just when you least expect it, they will sweep you away from the crowd, rewarding your patience with an intensity that only Peisinoe could deliver.
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And lastly, He Without Name. As you give him your very best bedroom eyes, he vanishes momentarily, only to return with a glass of water. "For... the thirst..." he says with a perfectly calm voice, utterly oblivious to the true meaning behind your look.
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icycoldninja · 3 months
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I’m sorry I just love this idea so hear my out: DMC 3 Dante X fem gf reader where they have like a really cute and fluffy late night call (basically phone pillow talk) cause y/n’s parents forbid her from dating Dante
Alright, here it is, extra fluffy! Enjoy! 💜
Secret chat (DMC3! Dante x Fem!Reader)
Giggling softly, you crept towards your bedroom door and quietly slipped out of it, padding down the hall to your parents' darkened bedroom. You pressed your ear to the door and listened intently for any sounds of movement or talking, but were thankfully only able to hear soft snores. Glad that they were finally asleep, you returned to your bedroom just as silently as you'd exited it and shut the door carefully before snatching your phone from your nighstand, leaping into your bed and sliding under the covers, a wide smile on your face.
Your fingers practically trembling with excitement, you dialed your boyfriend's number and (im)patiently waited for him to pick up. After two rings, you heard a click, followed by his voice.
"Hey, babe, miss me?" A massive grin erupted on your face as you eagerly responded,
"I sure as hell was. How are you?"
"Good, pretty good...been missing you a lot though. Folks still being hard-asses?" You nodded, sighing softly.
"Yeah. They caught me texting you once and threatened to cancel my phone service if I contact you again, so now I can only call you when they're asleep."
"Damn, that sucks. Can't wait for ya to get the hell outta there and come live with me...think of all the cool shit we could do together," Dante chuckled lowly, his voice echoing through the phone. "Could cuddle all day 'n night...no need to look over our shoulders cause we're free as birds." You laughed, adjusting your position and pulling the covers further over your head.
"I'd love that, but I love my parents, even if they are bit strict. I can't just up and leave."
"Yeah, alright," Dante sighed, though there was a tinge of laughter in his voice. "Should've guessed--my girl is the sweetest and most loyal chick to've ever lived." You felt yourself blush at the compliment, and unintentionally out a small grumble-whine. "Aww, what's wrong?" Dante cooed, laughing some more. "My girl not know how to take a compliment?"
"Shut up," You retorted, jokingly, before changing the subject. "So, did you do anything interesting today?" Dante let out a long exhale before responding,
"Nah, not really. Well, I did kill this giant demon lizard with 400 eyeballs, but not much else. You?"
"I mostly just missed you all day."
"Aww, baby..."
"What? It's true! I miss you whenever you're not around."
"Ah, you're so sweet. I miss you too, y'know. I love ya."
"I love you too, Dante." At that moment, Dante yawned, prompting you to yawn as well.
"Ya tired?" He asked, yawning again. You nodded, sighing and rolling over.
"Yeah..you?"
"Very." He yawned again, then groaned; judging by the cracking of limbs your heard in the background, he was stretching. "Wanna go to bed?" You hesitated, before shaking your head and responding,
"Nope, I wanna stay up and talk to you some more."
"What? C'mon," Dante sniggered playfully, "You'd pick me over a good night's sleep? Now I know you ain't thinking straight."
"How can I?" You giggled, grinning. "I'm crazy over you."
"Ah, you're just butterin' me up," Dante chortled, "You're so sweet and I love that 'bout you. Well, to be honest, I love all of ya."
"I love you too, Dante," You answered, blushing madly. "I love you so, so-" You paused to yawn, "-much."
"You sound real tired," Dante remarked, "No wonder, it's almost 2 A.M. Go get some rest, babe, otherwise your pretty face'll have dark eye circles."
"Ok," You conceded, reluctantly. "Love you, baby."
"Love ya too, sweetcheeks. Sweet dreams. Can't wait till our next secret chat."
"Me too, Dante, me too," You agreed, puckering your lips to make a kiss sound that Dante could hear. Then, you hung up, turning your phone off and sliding it back onto your nightstand before curling up under your blankets and getting ready to drift off to sleep.
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coffeexxcigarettes · 3 months
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Worship
-
You are made of stardust
And hope.
Of desire and envy,
And your lips were made
To melt into me;
To taste my longing and sin.
Who are we to challenge our creator?
How lucky am I,
To have been given such a gift?
Quickly, my love.
My skin burns with the thought of you,
And there is work to be done.
Show me what you were made for.
x
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fluffydice · 5 months
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A major problem I think people run into when looking at terusai that might make them dislike the ship is that if you don't have an understanding of their development throughout the series, the relationship is going to seem overly shallow. Teruhashi and Saiki are not static characters, nor are they simple. Both of their growth comes from learning that they are just humans at the end of the day. Teruhashi genuinely starts to like Saiki (and all their friends) because she realizes she's not above it all like she originally thought. Saiki is attracted enough to gasp, but only when she shows this true self of hers! If you stick them together when they're still in their early characters, of course it's going to seem forced. Learning to let characters grow, especially in comedy animes, is hard for a lot of people, especially when it's not an 'in-your-face' kind of thing.
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twinksrepository · 4 months
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Almost dying twice in one day doesn't seem like your idea of Fun
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Rating: 18+ Minors DNI
Pairing: Dante X F!Reader
CW: Blood, injury, almost dying, feinting
Word count: Roughly 4K
A/N: You'd gone to Fortuna on the promise of your own practice. Too bad you should have realized that an offer that sounds too good to be true tends to be just that. Hiding in your office as something that you refuse excuse beats down your door expecting to die, only for a knight in shining armor to show up. Well he's clad in a red leather jacket and you sure as hell don't think he's a knight. Letting him carry you around like a sack of potatoes is a lot better than being made into a human skewer though. 
Chapter two: You really don't have any luck. Waking up and almost dying for a second time, at least your leather clad hero seems happy to let you ramble instead of facing the facts that demons are real. For now.
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Back in the Devil May Cry Office a week earlier
“The order of the sword huh?” Dante had a feeling when Lady walked in he was going to end up dragged into another mess. 
“Yes. Are you familiar with them?” 
“Sorry. Religion and I don’t mix.” A quirk of his eyebrow as he kept eating not missing the silent chuckle coming from Trish. It might have gone without saying as to the reason, most religions weren't fans of those of demonic descent being a part of them. 
“It’s a small congregation that gathers in the castle town of Fortuna. I guess the only ones who would have heard of it are the ones who take an interest in this type of thing.” With the tone Lady had, Dante could tell she was trying to butter him up for something. 
“Like you.” 
“Exactly. So just how much do you know about Sparda?”
“Well. From what I figure. There’s a lot of confusion surrounding him.” Glancing to Trish to see if the demon had anything to add from her time in Hell. 
As the blond kept eating her pizza Lady continued on. “The story goes that Sparda served as the feudal lord of the city long ago. The people who live there today take these legends as truth and worship him just like a god.”
“They worship a demon as a god?” If Dante had ever felt incredulous regarding anything about his father he sure felt it now. Then again his old man did have more than a few humans that had been interested in the legend about him more than once. 
“Peaceful worship can’t be condemned, but the real problem is the order. Lately, they’ve been running amok catching demons and have even butted in on some of my jobs.” 
“Huh, maybe they’re starting a zoo.” Leaning across his desk only to have Lady steal his slice of pizza. 
“Not just demons. They’ve also been targeting Devil arms like the ones you have.” 
“OK then. A museum. So what?” A quick dart of his hand and he had the baked crust loaded with cheese back in his hand taking a bite. 
“Doesn’t  that concern you?” Lady leaned back from his desk, and folded her arms across her chest as Dante shrugged, continuing to eat his slice of pizza that he nabbed back. “Or how about that they might be collecting others that are part demon?” That has Trish and Dante pausing to look at her. “I see that has your attention.”
“What makes you think they might be collecting people that are part demon?” While it might have Dante’s attention, part of him is skeptical, there aren’t that many outside of the folks living on Vie de Marli.
“Right now it’s just rumors, but almost everyone in the town believes in Sparda. The town isn’t very friendly to outsiders who aren’t a direct part of the Order or those who are born there. It’s made it a bit of a pain to investigate but.” Raising a single finger while looking down her nose Lady grins. “A year ago a new doctor came into town, with zero ties to the locals, and was brought in by the current leader. With their general view of outsiders, I dug into the doctor, and it turns out she seems to be something of a miracle worker.”
“That doesn’t sound like anything to prompt me to think she’d be part demon.” Huffing and going back to his pizza as if to say give me something to go on. Watching as Lady sauntered around his office as if she owned the place.
“The doctor herself seems to think nothing of it, but people say they see her for bumps and bruises that are gone within hours of her touching them. Before she left for Fortuna she worked in one of the bigger cities and it sounds like the same thing but on a bigger scale. Broken bones healed in a matter of days over weeks and irreparable nerve damage being healed as if it never happened. The real interesting part? This doctor doesn’t seem to know she’s the cause. Even the medical folks haven’t figured it out as they just think it’s miracles out of nowhere, except for the Vicar of the Order of the Sword who offered her a job.”
Another shrug from Dante. “I’m listening but I’m not seeing anything to connect a so-called miracle worker to being part demon.”
“Demons that can heal others are exceptionally rare.” Trish quips before sauntering off the table and heading for the back room.
“Still doesn’t mean anything, she could be a front for something else.” Calling over his shoulder as Dante didn’t move his eyes from Lady. “I still don’t see why you’d think she’s possibly part demon.”
Rolling her eyes and giving her shoulders a shake before leaning down on the edge of his desk once more. “I’m just saying it’s an interesting rumor.” Only to have his pizza snagged again.
 “Alright say she is, and everything else you’ve said. So what?” Giving up on getting his lunch back Dante kicked his feet up onto his desk leaning back into his chair. 
“Well, what if their intentions are foul? And there’s a diabolical plan behind these apparently random acts?” 
“Well then. I’d have something to keep me occupied.” Pushing himself to his feet before calling out over his shoulder “Trish!” Only for both him and Lady to turn to the silence and see a note written where the sword Sparda had been hanging. 
See you there, maybe the doctor is cute
 Back to the present
“Well, one thing for certain my passed-out friend, you do have something extra about you. In fact you’re kind of heavy.” Grunting at Dante stepped across another rooftop, between dealing with demons and keeping rebellion in one hand and you tossed over his shoulder like a sack of flour the man was getting a workout.
Too bad that was when you decided to start to wake up. Opening your eyes to look down just as there was nothing but the cobblestone-lined street roughly three floors below you. “Holy shit!” Trying to roll away only to make the realization you were in the air with something warm wrapped around your middle.
 “Calm down or you might not like the fall. Sheese lady.” 
“Why am I on a roof? And who the fuck are you?” Screaming at the white-haired man holding you like you weigh next to nothing. Your arms and legs fail as you try to get away only to make the man holding you grunt and almost lose his footing. 
“I guess you forgot the part when we jumped up here, now stop squirming or I might drop you for real!” If his tone is anything to go by he’s getting annoyed by your actions but you don’t care at all scrambling to try and get out of his hold. “Seriously Doll if you calm down for a second I’ll put you down.” 
“My name isn’t Doll!” A final smack to the center of his back and you hiss, the ulnar side of your hand feels more like you smacked it against a brick wall than a man. “Ow.” With the pain lacing up your arm you’ve stopped struggling and find yourself unceremonial dumped on your butt in front of him. “I say again, Ow.” Looking up at him with a scowl, unsure where the sudden bravado came from. 
Only to stare at his back. “I can never catch a break!” Taking a few steps forward with his back still turned to you and his hands in the air as if ranting to the sky. “Even the chicks I rescue give me attitude!” 
“Maybe if you didn’t carry them like a sack of potatoes or drop them on their ass they might not be so rude about it.” Rubbing your butt as you stand, muttering under your breath. 
“I still needed to fight doll. It hasn’t exactly been a picnic carrying you around and trying to keep us both from getting killed.” Your face is burning, you didn’t think he’d have heard you but he did. Looking down at the ground, well rooftop in front of you you take a few feet before stopping beside the man. 
“My name’s not Doll.” You reiterate, giving your name to the man in red and wondering if he was the one that the townsfolk had been screaming about as they ran from the cathedral. Yet you can’t see it if he was the one who had attacked the Vicar that they had been screaming about, if he was what reason did he have to save you? You were no one, not really.. “I’m sort of the town's doctor.” 
“Sort of? That doesn’t inspire too much confidence.” You can’t help but roll your eyes at him even if he can’t see it. 
“I don’t get that many patients. You get sliced up or broken bones though? I'm who you want to see.” You’ve always been a damn good doctor, something about putting parts together had always appealed to you. So much so that you’d been thought of as a freak as a child, fascinated by death and diseases because in your mind if you understood what caused it maybe you could fix it before it was too late.
“Sounds a bit like boasting? You got a trick or two up your sleeve or something?” Looking at you, you can’t help but notice he’s good-looking. Like damn good-looking. Except you don’t get a chance to watch for too long before he starts moving forward and a leisurely pace and you follow with much smaller tentative steps. 
“No. Sadly. I was sort of an oddball growing up.” You aren’t sure why you’re telling him this as you keep your eyes downward so you don’t fall, maybe some part of you still thinks this is a dream or a nightmare. That might better explain the handsome white-haired man who came to your rescue. He also seems to have a really nice butt under his jacket when the breeze lifts it and your eyes follow the fluttering of the material. “I didn’t have friends till medical school, most kids thought I was a freak because I was into biology. Like finding dead birds and trying to figure out what happened to them kind of biology because the teachers thought eight-year-olds shouldn’t be studying cardiology.” 
“Eight huh? What you had a strange fascination with death?” Straddling the gap from one roof to the next you’re a little surprised when he turns and holds out a hand for you to take and help you across. 
“Yes and no. I wanted to help people.” Shrugging as you took one of his hands and didn’t fail to miss the warmth that spread from him. “If I had a better understanding of how people’s bodies worked I just figured I could help them survive if they came to me for treatment. All my life I wanted to be a doctor.” Once on the other side, he gave a huff before spinning to step across himself. 
“How’d your parents feel about that?” This roof is flatter and you find yourself watching him as you walk instead of the tiles under your feet. 
“I only had my mother.” Shrugging your shoulders “She just cared that I didn’t draw attention to myself. Otherwise, she didn’t care much.” Biting your lip a little but everything you’ve said while you’ve been chatty isn’t any new information about you. “Sorry, I’m rambling. I guess also being turned into a human meat kabob will do that to you. What was that thing anyway?” You swallow down the bile starting to burn in your throat, you’re really hoping he doesn’t say what you think he’s going to say.
“A demon.” Well, that hope was dashed spectacularly. “You know for a doctor you’re a little slow on the uptake.”
“Or maybe I’m trying to think of a more rational explanation.” Too bad you’re brain isn’t coming up with anything. Waving your hands in the air yourself in exasperation as you wave at the city. “I get that this place says that some demon guy named Sparda ruled here, but that sounds more like a legend that a religion sprang up around.” 
“Sorry Doc, world doesn’t work like th- Get down!” You don’t have time to process his words when his hand planting itself in the middle of your back and pushing you down to the ground. The sound of metal on metal has you lifting your head only to regret that decision. If this man in red hadn’t of shoved you to the ground you’d have had your head removed from your shoulders, his sword scraping along the metal blade of another of those strange scarecrow monsters. This time it’s on its arm instead of its leg.
It isn’t alone either. More scarecrows with blades for limbs had appeared. 
“Do me a favor Doc?” A twist of his wrist and you watch as the sword he wields sends the blade attached to the demon flying upward and slices the thing in half. “Go hide.”
You heard him. You really did. Too bad your arms and legs don’t want to listen to your brain screaming at them to move so you can scramble to safety. It’s like there’s ice flowing through your veins and slowing you down as the fear has your heart thundering in your chest. 
Another of the demons lets out that manica laughter as it sees you lying there helpless. It hops from side to side almost gleefully before launching forward with its bladed foot held out as if to lance you like a boil. A clang of metal as a boot lands in front of your face to meet the demon and with a pivot of his upper body you watch as it slices through his forearm, only for the man to snap his wrist as he grabs the demon and it’s cackling suddenly stops like it’s surprised. The creak of the leather of the belts across his chest and you can see the ripple of his muscles as turns his wrist and sends the demon flying off to slam into one of its compatriots and knocks both of them into a wall. A sickening thunk as both bodies flatten as if they’ve been deflated before they fade before your eyes. 
“Doc.” Looking up to see the man grinding his teeth as he stares down at you. “Move!” Bellowing you finally find your hands moving pushing yourself up to your knees and scrambling to hide behind a chimney as the sound of clanging metal rings around you. It’s not dignified and your bag is bouncing against your back but you’re trying to get away from the sound of fighting and hiding just like he had told you to. 
Another sickening sound, this time like a sac of fluid bursting open reaches you and you whimper, hands over your ears and tears running down your face. Why the hell is this happening? Where did they come from? As much as you might have wanted to refuse it, you need to face facts. Demons are real and you might not survive the rest of today at his rate. 
Screaming when a hand pats your shoulder only to have a hand press against it, a leather-clad hand. You hadn't even noticed the sound of fighting had stopped and you doubted it had anything to do with your hands as your fear dulled your senses. “Doc, you’re alright.” Opening your eyes you see the man there crouched in front of you and for the first time you see a hint of compassion in his pale blue eyes. “I need you to not scream when I take my hand away. Can you do that?” That compassion is undercut by the exasperation in his voice. 
Swallowing you nod slowly removing your hands from your ears as he lets you go and runs his hand through his white locks sighing before looking at you again. “You really are out of your depth ain’t cha Doc.” It’s not a question, just an admission that this is not you’re everyday normal. 
“If I said I was starting to believe demons are real would that help?” Lifting your sleeve to wipe at the dampness on your face. “I’m probably going to get us both killed aren’t I?” Twice now he’s saved you, and twice all you did was freeze in place too overtaken by fear to move.
Internally Dante was sighing, the last encounter proved you really had no idea about demons and he was starting to think you were just a pawn on the board for something the Order was planning. ‘Guess I owe Lady that twenty bucks. This chick has no idea about demons forgetting being an actress and playing along. You can’t hide a reaction like hers.’ He needed to get her to Lady so he could move on with trying to figure out where the Yamato was and get this stranger doctor out of harm's way. Patting her shoulder he just sent her a smirk. “Both of us? Nah. I’m hard to kill.” Based on your reaction to his words that might not have been the best answer. “I’ve got a friend nearby, she’ll look after you alright. We just need to get to the hill outside the castle. Can you move?” 
As his hand goes to help you up you find yourself moving on instinct. Grabbing his arm between both of yours, in your panic you’d forgotten he’d been sliced. “Right. You got hurt because of me, let me at least patch you up?” A quirk of your lips as you reached for your bag only to stop, watching as the wound sealed up and you felt your stomach drop. “That’s…” Trailing off for him to take over.
“Not normal.”
“What” Your eyebrows are furrowing as you push and prod at his skin, minus the blood there’s no sign he had ever been hurt. “Are you?”
“Well, you could say I’m a little on the demonic side.” Flashing you a wink with a flirtatious smile that showed his pearly whites. “And not just in the sheets.” 
“I… I think I’d like to get moving again before I pass out again.” He has to be joking. He just has to be, and you let him help you to your feet before the two of you start walking again. Internally you're freaking out over what you saw but you know you don't have time for hysterics, or passing out again from the panic. Your broad knight seems content to ignore you for the moment and you think it's for the best, both of you moving in silence along the rooftops until your feet start to hurt from all the maneuvering along the roofs of the town. 
At least until he sends you a steady stare after looking behind the two of you for a while with a frown. “Hate to say it Doc, but we’re starting to have a crowd trying to join this party. How do you feel about being carried out of here since we’re almost there?” 
Dante hadn’t been willing to risk it earlier, just carrying you to Lady while you’d been passed out. Too much of a chance of you being in on whatever the Order was up to, now that was gone from his mind and he needed to get you out of the picture. 
“Like a sac of Potoes again?” He can’t help but laugh at your deadpan voice and expression. 
“No. A real carry this time.” Wiggling his eyebrows at you just gets him a snort in response but you do nod. In a moment he’s got you in his arms, one around your shoulders and the other under your knees. “Alright Doc, I recommend you put those arms around my neck and don’t look down. I’d hate for you to freak out like earlier.” 
“Right.” You do as he says, and it takes everything inside of you not to scream as he starts running and jumping. You’re a little glad you’d had a light lunch or it would have been spat all over his front, keeping your eyes squeezed shut and tucking your face more into his body. If you hadn’t been worried about dying you might have enjoyed it a little more. 
At the sudden stop, you almost hurl, feeling the contents of your stomach start to climb your throat slapping a hand over your mouth as the white-haired man places you on your feet once more. “Lady!” Yea almost was a dream as soon as you take a step, running to the side of a tree and emptying your stomach. “You here?” 
“Sheesh, you trying to bring every demon nearby down on us?” You can hear a newcomer but you’re too busy throwing up to pay any more attention than that to what they’re saying. 
Watching Lady point towards you before lowering her shades. “Is that her? She doesn't look like much let alone someone like you.” 
“It is, in all her pukey glory.” Crossing his arms to watch her Dante can’t help but raise an eyebrow at the way she’s bent over. If it wasn’t for her throwing up he’d be enjoying the sight of her shapely rear stuck up in the air. “You were right by the way. Cept, she doesn’t have a clue. Almost got skewed twice.” 
“And you saved her? My my, what a knight in shining armor you are today.” Ignoring the woman still retching the contents of her stomach for a moment before lowering her voice. “Trish made contact, she doesn’t know the details but the Order is looking for her. Apparently, she’s important for something, and the orders include keeping her in the dark about whatever it is. They’ve also sent some kid after you, using the excuse that you kidnapped her and killed that Vicar.” 
“If they need her they should have done a better job looking after her, she was hiding in her office with a desk against the door when I found her.” Watching you stand Dante had to swallow, you were pretty easy on the eyes even if you were wiping your mouth with the back of your hand while still leaning against the tree.
“Could it have been an act?”
“Trust me, if she’s acting she should have a couple of awards for it.” Done with whispering he raised his voice just enough for you to hear him. “Hey Doc. This is Lady, do me a favor and give her a hard time alright?” Starting to walk away before flicking his fingers at Lady. “Oh and Lady, be nice to the Doc. She’s had a rough day, almost died twice.” 
“Wait!” You jog towards the man in the red coat only for him to start to take off. “I didn’t get your name!” 
“Dante!” Called over his shoulder before to your amazement he drops off the edge of the hill and you find your eyes going as wide as saucers. 
“Did he”
“Just jump off a cliff? Yes. That man is more dumbass than brains some days, but when you’re the son of the legendary Sparda I guess you have to put on a show to live up to the name.” Feeling a hand patting your shoulder you’re surprised to see a water bottle being held out towards you. 
Taking a sip from the bottle after snapping the seal you start sputtering. “Did you just say the son of Sparda?” As the woman’s words process and you stare at her, only to see her grin like the cat with the canary. “As in the dark knight Sparda that this town worships as God?” At her nod, the world feels like it’s spinning and you drop unceremoniously to the ground. “He’s real. And I met his son. Wait his son?” Wiping your head upwards to see the woman known as Lady looking down at you.  
“Oh, do I have a story for you. You pretty little thing.” Winking at you and all you can think is how you might need to throw up again. Fuck. Demons and Sparda are real. And you just spend most of the last few hours checking out his son's butt. 
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Chapter one
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dmagedgoods · 2 months
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Devil May Care
Rating: General
Relationships: Raphael/Male Durge (my character Cian) Summary: The glorious hero failing? Dying because of a foolish mistake? Destroying his plan by losing his life so recklessly? Raphael won't allow it. (I’m always open for Raphael prompts btw, it just may take me a little time to answer them. ❤) Tags of importance: obsession, local devil struggles with feelings AO3 ~ You have been less predictable than most of your kind. The rich spectrum of mortal emotion is a palette of many hues. Adept and well-versed in its heady heights and delicious depths, I employ both to my advantage. They are, after all, of inestimable value in my daily business; however, in a primarily – one could say – academic sense; by no means from first-hand experience, naturally. But now I am astonished, little mouse, at finding myself invested in your fate, beyond those distant contemplations, fury bright and fierce in my chest. You stand amidst the gore, skin sickly pale against the ruthless red drenching your robes and the very earth around you. – A single pure white rose in a field of thorny brambles. Your innocence is deceptive, and illusion your design. But your subterfuge won’t save you now against the vigor of your enemies. You have miscalculated, and you pay the price, your companions vanquished, alive but spent, and fear written plainly on your pain-twisted features. You suck in a slow and shaky breath while I watch, at the edge of the chaos. I savor you, how your lips part around the barely muttered words of your last hopeless spells, the multitude of emotions passing across your desperate face. Is this how you plan to escape the claws, little mouse? Stealing away from this plane of existence? The anger burns higher, floods my veins. It seems there is only so much time left for me to enjoy you before you ruin my flawless plan with your incompetence. I am drinking in the sight of you, trembling with the heat of my rage and something indefinable, much colder underneath, when finally, you collapse and lie in a motionless heap among the dry, brown grass. The air goes still. Something overcomes me at the sight, and I struggle not to bare my teeth. With a flick of my fingers, your last two attackers burn to ash. Immediately, the wizard is at your side. “Give him room.” I approach, slowly. It is meant as a command rather than a threat, but my words fly with far more intensity than intended. If my thoughts weren’t utterly consumed by the figure lying on the ground before me, I might be concerned by the suddenness of my own outburst. “Would you be so kind?” With an arch of my brow the request imparts an order. The useless mage finally flinches back from where he is crouched at your side, but I can feel the vampling’s red glare on me from some distance behind where he too lies wounded, all your companions drained of all power to regenerate or heal. I lower myself to take a closer look at you. You are shivering. Sweat pours down your face in saline rivulets. The hollows of your eyes appear too deep, your skin waxy, your scent earthen and sweltering. I can feel the hostile magic still raging through your body. “You won’t escape me like that.” My voice seems to cut through the haze in your mind. Your long lashes flutter. Then your eyes meet mine, glazed and feverish. When I cup your damp chin you startle, sucking in a jagged, pitiful gasp. I swallow hard, ignoring your pained little whimper. Pathetic. A few infernal words and my own power cleanses you of the destructive influence of the magic your opponents infused into your blood. Perhaps unconsciously, you lean into my touch before your gaze clears. “Raphael?” A feeling rises in me, and I find myself suddenly consumed by an irresistible need to hide you away from all eyes, friend and foe alike. It’s agonizing and unwelcome, this foreign, ridiculous urge.
I am no stranger to desiring you, perhaps beyond what you are strictly worth for my plan, and as much as I attempt to distance myself from this need, I’m incessantly aware of its presence. But this is not desire. At least not in the way I’m accustomed to experiencing it. No, what tears at me and clouds my senses is something else, nameless because I deny it the solidity of a name, unacceptable because in conflict with my very nature. I take a slow, even breath, getting hold of myself before I can do something rash. Another flick of my fingers makes a potion appear. I uncork it and bring it to your lips. “Drink.” You do, your body language uncharacteristically submissive, docile like a mindless doll. It displeases me to see you like this, robbed of your gleam, of your value to me. In a few heartbeats, the liquid will take effect. I raise my eyes and examine your worthless companions for a long moment. They will make it back to your camp. With that, I turn away, ready to vanish from this place and leave behind me the brief but frankly alarming lapse in control I have experienced at your hands. Your voice stops me. It is disgustingly weak. “I … thank you.” With a wide gesture of my arms and a cold smile on my lips, I turn towards you once more: “The list of your debts is growing, little mouse. You can thank me when I come to collect.”
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inkcurlsandknives · 10 months
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Thinking about what makes a compelling narrative
I've been watching and reading a lot of anime/manga and romance lately. They're one of my comfort genres. Way too many real life terrible things have been happening for me to be able to experience escapism into anything with a hint of grimdark. For example right now I'm watching My Happy Marriage/Watashi no Shiawase na Kekkon, which is an Anime/Manga/light novel romance. It is blatantly a Cinderella story, where all the villain's are cartoonish-ly evil, while the MC is simply a cinnamon roll, too sweet, too soft and good for this world. The whole thing should not hang together as a functional or even strong narrative, much less a show both my partner and I are enjoying wholeheartedly.
I think it's secret is that it is completely and utterly earnest. I think as an audience we're more willing to suspend disbelief and go along for the ride when a story wears it's beating heart on its sleeve. I think a huge weakness of a lot of popular western media and fiction is that it feels like everyone is allergic to sincerity. Everyone's too busy cracking a glib one-liner or being grimdark and gritty to care deeply and honestly.
It's something that a lot of anime/manga and the romance genre at large has completely embraced. Even media that is actually quite dark like Jujitsu Kaisen or Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba feels like a breath of fresh air because of how earnest the protagonists are. Romance books have this in spades, some of my favorites have been, The Sun is Also a Star, Get a Life Chloe Brown, and The Devil Comes Courting.
I think a lot of the time we're too ready to turn up our noses at narratives and characters that care and care deeply. Writers will say it' simplistic, or a character archetype that's overdone. But I think the first step of getting your audience to care is to have characters who care, and to not be shy about it. Let the audience care with your characters, let stories be earnest and sincere and wear their hearts on their sleeves. Not everything has to be a clever twist or a joke or afraid of real feeling, and we do ourselves and the stories we tell a disservice when we tell ourselves that sincerity and earnestness are trite and only serious grim and hopeless things are real and engaging.
One thing I always strive for in my own stories is to have characters who care and care deeply, and often for conflicting things.
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18
Chapter 17
The conversation continues...and a revelation happens..
“Which is?” Astaroth queried with a touch of hesitancy in his voice, wondering what his wife had in store for him now.  A zoo’s worth of animals on the island? Another island paradise to hideaway in? A mountain one this time?  A baby?  Primus Sator forbid!
Taking a deep breath, since she felt kind of foolish for asking, but that seemed on par for the course of the evening, “Could we try a first date again? Maybe just the two of us? You know, since I ruined this one.” Yara looked away from him, trying to keep the tears from building in her eyes.  The thought of how to ask, or even how to plan it on her own, had been what was keeping her awake.  She wanted to have a romantic time with her husband.  She wanted to show him she wasn’t a lost cause.
If Yara had been trying to hide how nervous she was to ask that question, she failed spectacularly.  Astaroth was impressed she wasn’t physically trembling in his arms when she asked though, as bad as her voice shook and cracked.  That was tempered with pride in her for being able to actually get it out instead of hiding her thoughts like she had a habit of doing. Her looking away didn’t bother him, he’d rather her look away and be able to speak her mind than them keep tripping over one another.
Gently, he used two fingers to tip her chin so that she was once more looking at him in the very low light.  “Do you mind if I change it a little?  Make it so we both have a better time and are more relaxed?”  His fingers gently caressed the edges of her face as he looked at her adoringly.  There were mistakes that he had made that he didn’t intend on making again. He was learning he rather enjoyed having his wife in his arms, and the sound of his name rolling of her tongue. “Whatever you want, but I just…” Yara paused as she nodded, she honestly didn’t care.  It could be a completely different type of night, she just wanted a second chance.  He already meant something to her, and was beginning to mean a whole lot more, she didn’t want to drive him away or to actually look at someone else longingly because she was an emotional mess.  The thought of that was killing her, even with his promise that it would be just the two of them.  “I just want a special time for us, and not to ruin it this time.”  Her head pressed firmly against his chest, her eyes closing.
He tsked her, shaking his head slightly, before kissing her forehead.  “You did not ruin it, Papilio.  You learned that you are cared for, and will never be abandoned or rejected.”  He held her tighter and sighed.  “Life is not an all or nothing, with me, not for you.  We will learn one another, and things will get easier.”  Another kiss was placed on her forehead, as he tried to figure out how to better comfort her, and also wondered why it was that her upset troubled him so deeply.  This whole relationship was a new experience.
“Dinner was amazing, but you know that the rest was not what you had envisioned, or what we could have had.”  There was an undercurrent of sadness and remorse to her voice that displeased him. There was no reason for it.  Yes, she had misunderstood the situation, but she had not done anything to purposely ruin the night. Her sitting there silently was the exact opposite of how he would have expected her to react to seeing someone flirt with him, and assuming he was receptive.
“True, but such is life.  So, we shall have a second date.  I do want to keep my wife happy. I wouldn’t want her eyes or heart to wander to someone else.  After all, she is becoming very important to me.” The seriousness of the conversation gave way to a slight tease in his voice. 
“Asti….” She scoffed and lightly thumped his chest with her hand, looking up at him like he’d just told her that Lucifer was a fluffy bunny. Still, she had not missed his last statement, and it hit her deep.
“I do love it when you say my name….” That wasn't a lie, which the deepening of his voice and the darkening of his eyes gave credence to. There were even times he wished she said it more.  He had to be losing his sanity, but for the moment he didn't care.
“Astaroth…” Yara’s voice lowered and became husky, his name becoming an almost purr that reverberated against his neck before she placed a soft kiss there.  To find out that she had an effect on him emboldened her, and gave her a newfound sense of satisfaction.  The woman at the bar might have been more seductive than she was, but it was clear that she hadn’t affected Astaroth.  If Yara was able to with just his name, well that was definitely a bonus in her favor.  
“Keep doing that and I might keep you in bed all day tomorrow, Papillio.”  His own voice lowered as well, his wife's seduction working fully on him. Even tired after an emotional evening, he would not refuse her.  Not with the new feelings taking root in his heart, and how enjoyable their first encounter was.
“Is that a threat or a promise, love?”
“Both.” Astaroth kissed her lightly, enjoying the tease and seduction of the moment. Fingers sinking into her dark locks, he pulled her closer for a deeper kiss before pulling back to look into her eyes.
“Te amo, Astaroth Anthas, Mortem meam.” (I love you, Astaroth Anthas, my Death.) Yara slipped into Latin as easily as she breathed. For some reason, saying the words in that, instead of Demontongue, was easier. The admission that she had already fallen in love with him, since the moment he had learned all about her past, yet had not pushed her away like the others, terrified her. She had handed him the instrument of her own destruction. 
For a full beat, Astaroth was convinced he'd translated what she'd said wrong in his head.  There was not a possibility that she could feel the same for him. He knew her doubts and fears, her insecurities; but he also knew that after their conversation earlier, she would not say such things lightly or in jest.  His belief, once more, that the Fates were involved in whatever was transpiring, seemed confirmed. 
Yara had felt like she couldn't breathe, maybe her heart didn’t even beat, while she waited for him to say something.  Once she had said it, it was too late to take it back and the expected rejection was causing her to want to run from the bed and the room. Even though she knew he would not be cruel or mean, that almost made it worse. He would be kind in his denial of mutuality.
The last thing Astaroth was going to do was leave Yara wondering his reaction to her admission.  Rolling over so she now was the one on her back, and he was looking down into her soulful eyes that he adored, he gave her his answer. “Te amo, Yara Anthas, amica mea papilio et amator animae meae.” (I love you, Yara Anthas, my darling butterfly and lover of my soul.)
Her eyes searched his for any sign that he was just placating her, her heart trying to escape her rib cage as it thundered inside. If he had not been so close, his eyes capturing hers with their intensity, she would have sworn she hallucinated those words, those words that no one had said to her before in her life; and they came from the only man that would ever matter to her for the rest of her life,
Astaroth truly loved her. Her, the daughter that no one wanted. Death loved. In some way it was poetic, but in every way it was perfect. As they came together once more, sealing their bond and their love, both felt whole for the first time in their existence; like they had truly found the part that was missing.
*****
On Olympus, Clotho sat back from the pool and looked over to Atropos with a smirk. Both Fates had worked hard for this day, this hour, this minute. More was coming, some dark, some light, and a lot bloody. Lachesis came with the wine and goblets and they looked over at the twelve tapestries with threats binding them. It was coming together. Soon the Primus Sator would summon them, and it would begin....
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sunfortune · 5 months
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almost every lisa kleypas book i’ve tried to read has been insta lust with barely any actual connection or just unserious characterizations so the stakes don’t even feel real
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mistresskayla-blog1 · 1 month
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Exploring the Barrens
Lyn's Writing Event Day 5
Characters: Ray Levine x Fem reader
Fandom: Richard Armitage - Ray Levine - Stay Close
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May 5th: Week 1: Jersey Devil  (flying goat man)     
Characters: Ray Levine x fem reader
Fandom: Richard Armitage – “Ray Levine” – Stay Close
(The character “Ray Levine” was created by Harlan Coben and adapted for television by Danny Brocklehurst)
Location: Pine Barrens, NJ
Word count: 2.6k
Warnings: angst, mutual attraction, photography, deep woods, Halloween, full moon, myths, lore, fluff, romance
All Hallow’s Eve; You and Ray take a drive up to the Pine Barrens near dusk to take some photographs of flora and landscape and catch a sighting of the jersey devil.
The coastal water and the pine forests are not that far apart. Stretching a few miles west of the coastline. The Pine Barrens is a large span of National Forest in southern New Jersey that runs about 25 miles end to end. And 35 miles north to south. It is there that the story begins.
              It was a relatively warm afternoon for late October. Ray drove his beat-up ford Mustang along the pine trails highway, miles and miles of expansive forests surrounding them. The sun was peaking across the barrens as it prepared to set to their left. The way the sun caught the greying green of the forest was mesmerizing. You sat your face glued to the window, as Ray’s hand strayed onto your thigh squeezing it gently, “You ok?” he asked. You turned towards him and grinned, “Yeah, yeah, of course. Its just so beautiful here”. Ray smiled, “Wait until I show you my favorite spots” his eyebrows quirked up and you giggled. Ray drove a few more miles before a break in the woods led to a parking area for hiking. He parked and got out, walking around to your side, and opening the door for you, that stuck a little until you pulled up the metal lock button.  Ray stood with his hand out to you, you rose from the seat clad in hiking boots, jeans and a wooly sweatshirt. Your Nikon camera hanging from your neck ready for some shooting. Ray had his already slung across his chest, as you stood. He looked at you a moment, you thought he was going to say something, and then he just looked out to the woods, and back at you. You heart kind of fluttered in your chest. You had made up your mind to tell him how you felt today. Regardless of the outcome.
              Sure, you and Ray had been hanging out a lot since you both joined a photographer’s group for “singles”, just the thought made you roll your eyes, but you needed to make new friends after you had moved from Seattle, so you made the best of it. Coming across the country like this was intense. The people, the scenery, even the ocean felt different. Some things were still the same, and that was the woods. You loved the woods, the smell of it, the sounds of it, the feeling of safety in it. When you were a little girl you used to hide in the woods behind your house, the subdivision was small then, and you could play for hours in the woods without a soul to bug you. Your best friend Lisa came too when she was there, but Lisa had died shortly after her 9th birthday of Leukemia and looking out to the barrens of pines you sighed remembering her. Ray looked back at you, “You sure, your alright?” he said in that eastern accent you had begun to develop a crush on.
              “Yeah” looking at him, “just thinking about people I used to know” Ray came closer to you then, leaning in, “demons from the woods, it is all hallows eve you know”. His breath so near your face made you hold your breath a second. You smiled as he stood back up to his full height. “Not like that Ray,” you laughed, “But thanks for the reminder. I’ll make sure and spook you on this trek”. You sort of childishly punched him in the shoulder and he put his arm around your shoulder in a friendly manner, leading you down the trail ahead of you.
You both trudged through the crunching leaves and underbrush, looking up at the canopy of pines. You snapped a few shots as Ray stepped off the trail head and knelt down to a take a close up of some moss? You couldn’t actually tell what he was doing. You stopped and asked him, “What did you find?” Ray looked up over his shoulder, “Oh just some really textured moss, I’m working on this texture landscape project”. You smiled, “I like texture, are you staying color or doing black and whites” Ray stood up, still looking down at this subject, “Actually probably both, I’m not sure yet. But maybe you can help me afters” He smiled, kind of flirtatiously. You had known him for about a month or so and still couldn’t figure out his, well tells. It was Atlantic City right; do we see people in forms of gamblers on this journey? You weren’t sure. You both continued back on to the trailhead as the sun got lower and lower to the horizon. It spread further out in the sky causing a dark orange red hue to fill the forest underbrush. The cool tones of the night starting in as well. You had packed your night lens in your pocket and were hoping to catch some moon light.
Ray stopped again in a clearing and laid down, looking up with his camera towards the canopy. You followed suit and laid down beside him. He chuckled looking through his lens, “We should meet like this more often,” he said, again teasingly you thought. I mean, was he actually flirting?
You looked through your own lens, and peripherally caught him looking at you, “Yeah, we should” you said. Ray put his camera on his chest and looked at you, sighing heavily. “Look, (fem reader), I really like you. This is fun, but if I’m overstepping or offending you, please tell me”. You looked at him, seriousness in your eyes, “No. its fine. I am glad to know its flirting. I just thought you were, well friendly, which I haven’t heard is the norm out east”. Ray smiled with his eyes sparkling in response to your acceptance, then huffed out looking back up through his lens, “Yeah we get that a lot. Not sure who started it, but its not going to end anytime soon”. You laugh, “well it has a certain charm I’m sure”. Ray smiled, “Yeah in the city for sure, but here in AC its not, well cute. Its just annoying”. You put down your camera again, “Sorry if I offended you then” Ray winked, “Nah, its fine. No worries”. He sat up first and then offered to help you up. Pleasantries were exchanged. And now the darkness was seeping into the woods. You walked further and further into the Barrens, making it harder and harder to see. You couldn’t hear anything from the lone highway, or any other woodland creature.
Ray stopped to change his lens and so did you, realizing that this low light was going to mean longer shutter times. “So where is this ‘spot’ you wanted to show me?” you asked, inquisitive. You could still make out his red flannel jacket and carved jawline in the dusk light. Ray eyes flashed just then, and your stomach flopped up to your chest. “Its this way, come on,” and he grabbed your sleeve and pulled you through the shorter shrubs and underbrush. “It’s a ruin up a head. I found it last spring”. His grip on your sleeve slackened, as he stopped short of his mark. A clicking sound of a pen light and he cast a hazy glow around an old, abandoned shack in the woods. It stood about 12 feet high, with a caved in roof, and lots of lichen. Ray giggled under his breath, “Here it is”, he said excitedly. “Nice, you want to invite me in?” Ray looked down at you, you weren’t short persay, but anyone was shorter than Ray, he was 6’3” of gorgeous, chiseled features and broad shoulders and an ass that made jeans a necessity in his wardrobe. “yeah, of course,” Ray spread his arm wide in a Disney like welcome and you snorted a laugh. The door was rusting off its hinges, but Ray still managed to open it, and when you peaked in it was a playful embodiment of cobwebs and plant growth. Mushrooms dusted the now earthen floorboards. You stepped inside a little unsure of what you would disturb. Ray was right behind you, his breath on the back of your neck.
“Maybe we shouldn’t disturb it” you said, trying to step back and bumping into him further. His arm caught your waist, and you gasped a second, and dropped your camera to the ground. Ray spun you around to face him, “You scared of some cobwebs?” His hand moved to your chin, as he tilted it up, and moved in for a kiss. You did everything you could not to move, you’d wanted to kiss him since the first day you met. He’s so scruffy and honest and earnest, a little haunted, but not more than most over 35. Your lips met softly, and fire burned in your belly, sending pulses shooting in all directions, all the way down to your feet. Your knees buckled, and Ray caught you steady on your feet. He smiled in the kiss, and your arms made it around his shoulders. Ray moved you carefully through the doorway of the shack and stood tall again, you cradled against him. The kiss broke off, and he let go of you. You blushed and turned back to the shack, looking for your camera on the ground. Ray eyes were heady in the low light as he looked at you. “Can I borrow your light, I can’t see my camera now” Ray pulled the pen light from his pocket and handed it to you. A click illuminated the shadows in the shack and you yelped as you saw a large spider living a web very near where you entered, it twitched in its web. Ray chuckled under his breath. “You spook easily, I didn’t think that about you” You picked up the camera, keeping your eye and the light on the large spider, “Yeah, well there wasn’t a check box for that at the speed dating thing. “Are you afraid of spiders?” he asked pointedly. “I guess, I mean, that one is huge,” you swept the light back over for him to see. Ray came close and bent down, “yeah she is a nice specimen”, smiled. “I’m not like phobia afraid of them, but I don’t go getting into trouble with them either”.  Ray looked at you again, “Fair, enough, guess I shouldn’t tell you about the Jersey Devil then, huh?”
You looked up at Ray again, still lingering through thoughts from that kiss, “The Jersey Devil?”
Ray looked back over his shoulder as a screech from an owl disturbed the blissful nightfall. “Yeah,” he started to trudge again back towards the trail, “Rumor has it he haunts these barrens. There are sightings of some ungodly creature with like goat feet and head, bat wings and a forked tail”. You kind of laugh as you look around the surrounding darkness, “Are you serious?” Ray looked back at you, “You think I would make that up, your not a tourist, (fem reader)”. You chagrinned, “I suppose not. Have you read about it?” Ray stopped, “Well actually I did a bit of digging about the original story, and it turns out the original family, the Leeds’ their home was not too far from here” Ray pulled out his phone and it showed some pins on a map, “I’ve been looking for it, well,” he smirked, “Sort of. It would be fun to find, you know?” You nodded, “Sure I could see that paying better than the other stuff” Ray put his phone away, “I know, I know, its just kind of bugging me, I’ve been coming out to this woods for years, and I’ve never spotted him, not once, so” he blew out a breath. “So its kind of like your mission then, ya?” you asked.
Ray, looked at you, “Nah, more of a hobby. A fascination, but I can think of other ways to fascinate myself” Ray moved towards you again, this time, your hands met his chin, and though you both were wearing cameras around your necks you still managed to kiss again, just as earnestly as the first time. Ray shifted his camera around behind him, and then shifted yours with his hands, keeping the kiss locked. He held you close to him, your arms swept up and crushed against his frame. Eyes closed you both reveled in the sensation of your lips meeting again and the driving heat that resonated between you both in the darkness. Ray started to kiss your cheek, and down your neck slackening his hold on you. A nearby tree became his friend, as he directed you toward it, leaning in more, deepening the kiss. Your heart thumped wildly and your feet tingled at his kisses. You pulled him in closer as well in returning passion. He moaned into your mouth, as his tongue slid along your lower lip.
A high pitched and sharp sound cut through the night from far off. The sound so sharp it broke you both from the kiss, “What in the fuck was that?” you blurted out. Ray was a bit disoriented, and snapped back immediately as the screech came again, “An owl?” You shook your head, “that’s far too loud even for a screech owl”. Ray kept you close, “Whatever it is, I don’t think its coming this way”. The screech was heard again, and an eerie fog started to descend upon the grove. “Ray?”  Ray stood strong, “Yeah?” “I think it is getting closer”. Ray grinned and rubbed your shoulders, “Its ok. I got you”. You looked up at him, as the moon started to shine across the eerie scene, breaking from the clouds, “Ray, its Halloween and were in the woods with a weird creature. Maybe we should just go”. Ray caressed your face, “Still spooked huh?” he rubbed your back, “Alright, we can go. Want to go grab a bite?” You nodded, though in the low light it was all assumed. Ray took your hand and led you back towards the trail again, following what he could of the markers with his pen light and his memory.
You were aware though that each step was moving in the direction of that terrifying sound. What would you encounter on the way back to the car?
The sound screeched again, this time closer, and even Ray paused, “Ok, that was closer”. His hand on your hand squeezed tighter reassuring you of your safety, “Come on, were almost back to the car”. You paused feeling something blow past you, “Ray?” Ray spun around as a large amalgamation of an animal resembling a goat, too tall for its frame, wings tucked back, and clawed hands grunted and bit sharply towards you. You flipped your flash on and hit the click on your camera several times trying to disorient it. It shook off the brightness and Ray pulled you back, “(fem reader) get back!”  You forced yourself to take a shot and kept clicking while Ray and this creature tussled in the brush. “Ray! Don’t!” you called out, but Ray already had it by its scruffy neck and was punching it profusely. It gurgled and screeched again before loosing consciousness. Ray swept his hair off his eyes and wiped the spit from the creature off his face with his sleeve. He let go of its neck and dropped it to the forest floor. Ray turned to you, “Are you alright, (fem reader)?”  You nodded, “Yes, yeah. Are you?” Ray rolled his shoulder, “Yeah, you can’t mess with me, in these woods” He laughed, he saw your look of fright and came to you, “Come here”, his bear arms came around you in a welcoming hug and you felt safe, so so safe in his arms. He kissed the top of your head and you sighed into his chest, as he rubbed your back.
“Well time for a drink I think, yeah? We’ve had quite a day of it”, He kissed your head again and kept his arms on your shoulder as you both walked back to the car, “Ray?”  “Yeah?”  “Do you think that was the Jersey Devil?” “I don’t know, it looked like a deranged goat, but either way, were safe”.  He smiled. He placed you in the passenger seat and climbed into the driver’s side. Ray fired up the engine, the Mustang rumbled as he eased out to the highway and headed back to the shore.
              THE END 
Thoughts? Comments please, and don’t forget to ask for tags. Weve got 25 more days of stories coming.!!!
@legolasbadass @middleearthpixie @lathalea @fizzyxcustard @riepu10 @evanstaresit @scariusaquarius
#Lyn’s Writing Event 2024
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suzannahnatters · 1 year
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Trope Talk #2: Breaking Their Heart To Save Them
OK let's talk about a trope I DON'T like.
As I've started watching a lot more Asian dramas this year, my patience with this trope - already occasionally featured in Western media - has approached rock bottom. You'll know this romance trope when you see it, usually around the start of the third act. The main couple will have overcome every obstacle - but suddenly everything will be too much. Some external factor is forcing them apart, and this time one of them becomes convinced the two of them should break up. But how to convince the other party of this?
Easy! Tell them a bunch of lies. Pretend you never even loved them in the first place. Break their heart because it's the best way to save them. Satine does it to Christian in MOULIN ROUGE. Both leads do it in LOVE BETWEEN FAIRY AND DEVIL. Gorya does it to Thyme in F4 THAILAND. (That last one very nearly got me to ragequit with just two episodes left to go.)
So, let's discuss why this trope doesn't work for me, as well as some ways it might be justified, subverted, or deconstructed.
I think the main reason the trope doesn't work for me is that most of the time it feels quite cruel, especially when it acts as the third act breakup. Breaking someone's heart to save them is supposed to occur as a gesture of love and care for another person, but it's pretty messed-up to deliberately wound someone, someone you claim to care for. Let's look at two examples that didn't work for me.
CRASH LANDING ON YOU has a male lead who is always scolding the heroine for her decisions, especially when those decisions lead her to sacrifice herself for him. When she wakes up in hospital after taking a bullet for him, instead of saying thank you like a normal person, he scolds her to the point of tears. Because he's constantly treating her like a child and making decisions on her behalf, it makes perfect sense when he decides to break up with her by telling her he never loved her. The characterisation is consistent and believable; the problem is that this sort of character is a huge red flag, and the show never stops depicting the hero's paternalistic behaviour as a totally normal and romantic thing, actually! This is a great example for what this trope represents even at its most internally consistent - a character making a huge decision without their partner's input, taking away the say that should rightfully be theirs, and never being called to account for it.
Take F4: THAILAND as an example of this trope that doesn't make ANY sense at all. Our two leads kept me fully charmed throughout most of the show, but it all fell apart for me in the final three episodes. Gorya is a wonderful female lead whose strong sense of self-respect, dignity, and tenacity has driven her to challenge Thyme's bullying and inspire him to become a better person. These traits have empowered her to defy his mother's systematic destruction of her family's finances and those of everyone she loves. When Thyme's mother offers Gorya money to break up with Thyme, she scorns the offer. However, when Thyme's mother tells him that she is dying and that she needs to use what little time she has left to consolidate Thyme's leadership of the family empire, Gorya chooses to break Thyme's heart to ensure that he can become CEO after his mother's death. This is pitched as worthwhile because of the good things Thyme could do as a powerful capitalist who puts people, not money, first. Gorya knows that after everything she and Thyme have been through, he's absolutely devoted to her, and that hurting him badly enough to part the two of them will involve returning him to the old, villainous, bullying Thyme. Thyme's mother even encourages her to do just that - because it's only the villainous Thyme who CAN consolidate his control of the family empire. It made no sense to me that Gorya would fall in with this program. Why would this person hurt someone she loves, bringing back the villain she reformed, so that he can keep control of the riches she spurned? I didn't believe it for a moment. It felt like gratuitous cruelty, totally out of character, and militated against the story's themes.
I always find myself asking the same questions when I see this trope: why couldn't the characters have an honest conversation about this? Why couldn't they face this challenge together? Why wouldn't they do literally everything within their power to avoid systematically destroying their loved one's self esteem? Taking a relationship out the back and shooting it just seems like an incredibly disproportionate response to 99% of the scenarios that give rise to this trope.
Still, like all tropes that are used poorly, this one can be deconstructed, played with, or even justified. Let's look at some examples of this trope that work a little better than most.
Look for ways to soften the trope
The more love and trust there is between the characters, the less credible it is that one of them would choose to withold information from the other, lie to them, and break their heart. In the YA space opera romance THESE BROKEN STARS, at their very first interaction the female lead mocks and antagonises the male lead specifically because young men who show romantic interest in her tend to meet with unfortunate "accidents" and she wants to spare him that fate. Since the two of them are strangers, there's less trust to be broken, and by the same token, it takes the female lead less effort (and cruelty) to destroy his interest in her.
Similarly, think about the somewhat similar situation in PRIDE & PREJUDICE where a third party, Mr Darcy, breaks up Mr Bingley and Jane Bennet because he thinks it would be better for Bingley not to ally himself with the embarrassing Bennet family. This is not an example of this trope, but it's a very similar one - two people in love are cruelly broken up because somebody decided they knew best. While Elizabeth at first believes Mr Darcy's actions to be unforgiveable, she quickly learns of an extenuating circumstance: Mr Darcy had no idea that Jane was seriously attached to Mr Bingley and would not have done what he did if he had known.
2. Make sure there are realistic consequences
I don't think it's IMPOSSIBLE for a couple to end up together after a use of this trope, but as in PRIDE & PREJUDICE, in addition to extenuating circumstances, there would ideally be a whole character arc in which the person at fault proves that they are going to stop trying to make decisions for their partner.
I also loved the deconstruction of the trope in ANOTHER MISS OH. In this show the heroine's fiancé, facing financial ruin and prison, tells her just days before their wedding that he doesn't love her anymore and is disgusted by the way she eats. When he gets out of prison early, he's extremely miffed to find that his ex is now dating the very bloke responsible for him being in jail in the first place. He tells the female lead that he just wanted to spare her the pain and disgrace of his prison sentence, and she very properly calls him out on it. He intentionally humiliated her and left her with lasting wounds and insecurities, and although her new boyfriend isn't perfect either, at least he never did THAT to her.
Although this is a deconstruction I think we can still learn from it. After all, this trope is always depicted as a mistake on somebody's part; the important thing is to make the consequences believable.
3. Make sure it's believable for the characters to act in this way
When this trope is played straight, as a major third act breakup between avowed lovers, I almost never find it truly believable. But the story that comes closest is MOULIN ROUGE. Our heroine Satine has always seen herself as the older, worldly wise, cynical one in the relationship. She doesn't believe in the power of love the way her love interest, Christian, does. And she's spent her whole life prioritising money and survival. So, when Satine finds out that her would-be lover, a powerful duke, wants Christian dead, it's credible that THIS sort of person would decide to break up with Christian and tell him she's choosing the Duke and financial security over love.
There are also additional reasons why this works, and all of them are deeply rooted in characterisation.
For one thing, this isn't Satine's first choice. She originally plans to run away with Christian. It's only once she learns that she's dying of consumption that she decides to break up with him instead. We SEE that Satine would rather fight for her love - and we understand why she comes to despair of it.
For another, staying true to Christian won't save him heartbreak because he's going to lose her anyway. On the other hand, if she breaks Christian's heart, she will save him from the Duke and also give the Moulin Rouge's prostitutes a chance at becoming actresses and real artists. We can understand that the price of putting love first is so high, with such little return, that Satine would choose to act this way.
Finally, because Satine's character has already been established as so mercenary, she doesn't actually NEED to work hard to convince Christian that she has chosen the Duke. In fact, one of the things that sets MOULIN ROUGE apart from other examples of this trope is that, from memory, Satine doesn't even lie to Christian. She doesn't try to convince him that their love has been a complete sham - she just informs him that she's decided to give the Duke what he wants. Christian believes it because it's exactly the sort of thing the Satine he first met would have done.
Compare this to the example in F4: THAILAND. In that show, breaking up with Thyme doesn't fit with Gorya's character. She doesn't try to find any alternatives. Thyme finds it so hard to believe her when she says she wants to break up with him, that she has to seriously hurt him in order to make him believe it. And as a member of the audience I wanted to know why exactly it would be so terrible - in a show that is explicitly about the evils of wealth - for Thyme to abandon his family empire.
4. Connect it directly with the themes
The cdrama LOVE BETWEEN FAIRY AND DEVIL contains a rendition of this trope that actually works WITH, rather than against, the themes of the story. LBFAD avoids the often sexist and paternalistic overtones of this trope by having both leads at different times break each other's hearts to save them. Best of all, it uses the trope as an expression of the main thematic conflict of the story. This campy fantasy romance dares to ask whether the greater good is more important than personal love and happiness. When each lead character chooses to break the heart of the other, they do so implicitly because they have bought into the lie that they must set aside personal love for the greater good. Their whole character arc and happy ending hinges upon their ability to see that the only way to sacrifice for the greater good, is to learn love and compassion on a personal level. As such, even though it still stretched credibility that two such devoted leads would treat each other so badly, the story used the trope wisely, not to manufacture melodrama but to discuss its central themes.
5. BONUS: Restore agency to the dumped party One of the annoying things about this trope is specifically that it involves one character choosing to deprive the other of agency in their own romance. So, one of the most fun ways to play this trope is by restoring agency to the dumpee.
This happens in the cdrama TILL THE END OF THE MOON. At first, the way this trope was played in this story really annoyed me. The God of War, Ming Ye, has unexpectedly fallen in love with his at-first unwanted bride, Sang Jiu. Now, however, he's about to go off and fight a battle in which he expects to give his life. Rather than let Sang Jiu know about this, he hands her a bill of divorce and tells her he never had any feelings for her. Sang Jiu has been in love with him from the shell, and this breaks her heart. It seemed completely gratuitous to me - why would Ming Ye divorce someone he's about to widow in any case? If he wants to send her to safety, why can't he just ask her to go home for a visit to her beloved family until the danger blows over? However, I was FASCINATED by Sang Jiu's response to this ultimatum: she puts on her wedding dress, marches into Ming Ye's room, and demands her conjugal rights before she leaves. Although there were definitely things about this scene which I, ah, found problematic and would have done differently, it was a terrific thing to see the female lead seize back agency in this situation. I also appreciated how it foreshadowed later problems in the subplot, in which the male lead's inability to communicate and the female lead's tendency to take things into her own hands dooms them both.
Similarly, in one of my books, a character is forced to break up with another in public, which she does, very coldly. But he takes the first opportunity to get her alone, throw himself at her feet and swear that even if she doesn't want to be his partner anymore, she will still have his undying devotion and lifelong service. It was huge fun to defy the common expectations of the trope in this way!
In summary, I do think that this trope can work, but it does need to be fully supported by the story. It should not be overdone; there must be consequences; it must be in character; there must be high enough stakes to make the pain inflicted seem worthwhile; and it must be in keeping with the themes rather than militating against them.
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lilolilyr · 9 months
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Summary: Emily wants to have one nice day on the job as Miranda’s assistant. Just one! Because she loves her job, she truly does, but it also bloody well stresses her out. And the new second assistant isn’t making things better, especially when she’s being more competent than should be possible!
Or: Andy saves the day, so Miranda forgets to be angry.
For @flufftober 2023! <1k words, rated G, no warnings.
Read on Ao3
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imperatorrrrr · 6 months
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Nico realizing Nolan unfollowed him and talking to Jack about it
"Need help with hashtags for your Facebook post, Schao?"
"What?"
Nico and Rino had come over for dinner after their sauna session earlier in the day and now dinner's over and Jim and Rino are sitting in the living room together drinking beers talking about whatever hockey Dads talk about, and Luke's fucked off to his room to talk to his boys because World Juniors is starting soon, while Jack rinses the dishes and Nico puts them in the dishwasher.
But Nico isn't putting the dishes in the dishwasher. Nico has been fiddling around with his phone for a while now, not paying attention to anything.
"You've been staring at your phone all confused? Finding more baseball players to follow?"
Okay, so maybe Jack feels a type of way about Nico getting practically naked in a sauna with some random professional baseball players.
"Jack, what?"
Nico had a big day with his Dad today. Not only did he strip down to his underwear and sit in a sauna with his father and some baseball guys, he also got his haircut. He has yet to look up from his phone, and there are strands of his hair falling down the side of his face, not as long as before, but still framing his face perfectly.
Jack huffs. Puts the dish he just rinsed into the dishwasher himself and turns the faucet off. He directs Nico away from the counter and closer to the island where the stools are and sits Nico down. Nico lets all this happen while still staring down at his phone.
"Nico."
Jack flicks him on the forehead and Nico finally looks up.
Good.
"What's going on?"
Nico sighs, puts his phone face down on the counter and runs his hand through his freshly cut hair, strands falling every which way in his wake.
"Nols unfollowed me."
Nico's face is all scrunched up like it gets when he can't find the right English preposition when he's answering media questions.
"Who's Nols...?" Is this another baseball player?! How many baseball players does Nico know and why does Nico know so many of them and where are they coming from?
"Patty. Nolan Patrick."
Oh shit. That may be worse than another baseball guy. Nope, that's definitely worse.
Nico doesn't talk to Jack about Nolan Patrick. Nico doesn't talk to anyone about Nolan Patrick. Jack thinks maybe Jesper might have that honor, but even he's not one hundred percent sure about that.
Jack's emotionally intelligent. Jack can do this. Jack can wade through the Nolan Patrick swamp of history.
"Are you...okay?"
Great. Slam dunk. Touchdown. Home run. Ugh baseball again.
"Yeah, its just...weird." Nico looks at his phone like he expects it to provide an answer as to why Nolan Patrick has unfollowed him. Jack also looks at Nico's phone hoping for the same.
"I mean we haven't talked in a bit. He reached out when I wasn't playing last month to check in."
Jack doesn't think Nico's upset about it. Nico's confused.
"I don't think I did anything?"
"Of course you didn't do anything!" Okay, so Jack doesn't know if Nico didn't do anything, but Jack is going to side with Nico ninety nine percent of time, no question. Plus, its Nico. He rarely does anything wrong. He doesn't make mistakes on the ice and he doesn't really make mistakes off the ice either.
Jack takes a step closer, putting his hand on Nico's shoulder and squeezing, trying to radiate support gearing up to say something to comfort Nico...
"What's our ice cream situation?" So Luke's chat with his boys is over.
Nico, presented with a task, especially a task that involves doing something for a teammate, especially for a teammate thats a rookie, and especially for a rookie thats a Hughes, is ready for this call to action and this distraction, "I have some good variety at mine."
Nico gets off the stool, grabs his phone and pockets it, and beckons Luke to follow him, which Luke does happily.
And Jack is left alone in the kitchen with the dishes that still need rinsing and thinks about how ice cream is supposed to be the go to solution for a break up.
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coffeexxcigarettes · 3 months
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Obvious
-
It would take them
A breath to see what we have.
Hard to hide the mud
On my palms and knees
From crawling towards you.
Can't deny the marks down my body,
From the thorns I tangled myself in
To be able to find you.
Impossible to pretend my eyes aren't laced
With fire
At the very thought of being able to
Hold you.
I'll never stop pushing to reach you.
If I could speak your name,
They'd be as enthralled as me.
In silence,
I'll fight towards you.
Let their whispers continue,
Until the day I stand at your door,
Scarred and filthy,
And you love me anyway.
You'll love me anyway.
I love you anyway.
x
@nosebleedclub - March 11th; rumored lover
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Kelly Clarkson once said “I was looking for skinny jeans when I should have been looking for wranglers”. We know that story did not end well, but that statement stuck in my head like, you think you know what you want, what you should be looking for, but maybe THIS over here is what you really need. I wasn’t looking though. I wasn’t looking for skinny jeans or wranglers or a suit or gray sweatpants. I wasn’t looking at all. Maybe a side eye look like “hey is it you?”but not with any kind of strength behind it.
I wasn’t looking for anything but myself. I was (am) figuring out what exactly it is that I wanted because the truth was I knew what I didn’t want very clearly but couldn’t list one thing I actually wanted. You’ve got to know both. The universe can’t help you with half ass truths. So I went about creating the this is me and what I want list that was imaginary and in my head. I tried on ideas like clothes in a dressing room, not buying anything that didn’t fit or suit my style. In that process I found things that fit so well I knew it was the truth. I kept finding the things that fit well until I saw myself more clear than I ever, but still me, feeling more comfortable in my skin than ever before. I was alone, but not lonely. I was fulfilling desires alone better than being with a partner, especially the wrong one. I was always smiling in disbelief that I could feel so fulfilled and be alone. I had been searching and searching and searching for the person that fit with who I am now and I was exhausted.
A mentally drained creative person is a frustrated person. So I was coming up ways for me to express myself that I hadn’t before and that were free. The things I did created so much joy. I found myself, even through getting help for my depression and anxiety, through these creative endeavors a lightness and surge in creativity I hadn’t felt in some time.
Minding my own business and really the hardest part of my day being what to post to curate my blog, and what to eat, I received a message. A test. For both of us. For him, would I bite? For me, is this guy a creep? I bit. He’s not a creep. We haven’t stopped talking since. Everyday I think I wasn’t looking, I wasn’t even paying attention. I didn’t even want to talk to anyone and then he appeared. I did the opposite of what I would normally do, I broke every one of my rules. I worried I wasn’t enough, I thought he must be lying, I hoped this wasn’t a joke, I worried he would ghost me, I worried see all of my body would be the reason he’d ghost me. I was deathly afraid of my feelings.
Then one day this Motherfucker (in our earliest days I kept saying in my head this Motherfucker is trying to get me to love him, or this Motherfucker says the sweetest things. I know by calling him that in my head, I was stalling, I wanted him to prove me right, he wasn’t this amazing person, he was in fact a Motherfucker) anyway, one day this Motherfucker asks me to call him and then asks me if I’d like to be his best friend? When I tell you my eyes were wet and my smile was the biggest it’s been in years, because it’s single handedly the sweetest, most romantic thing. I’ve ever experienced. He asked a scaredy cat girl wrestling with her feelings if I’d like to be his best friend and in that moment I loved him and became even more scared, but also knew I could tell my best friend anything.
Since that phone call I have experienced something lacking in almost every relationship I have ever had. Consideration for my feelings constantly. Someone who asks the right questions and listens to my answers. Someone who says “only if you’re comfortable” and means it. Someone who makes sure I’m ok and doesn’t freak out when I’m not. Someone who will talk things out. Someone who knows we’re in this together. Someone who wants to be better for himself and for me and makes me want the same. Someone who turns me on just be being himself. So finally one day I broke down and asked “Are you for real?” and he answered “I am really real baby darling” I stared at that text for minutes. I swooned. I cried. My heart was bursting. This Motherfucker, my best friend, my lover. He’s really real.
@always-be-batman-71
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