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1d1195 · 2 years

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To Be Loved

Notes/warnings: I don't have time to write anything that anyone probably wants to read right now. Here is the song I've been listening to on repeat for the last week and a half. Angsty themes are present.

She nodded and looked up at him. “Please don’t leave me,” she begged so brokenly. “I know that’s terrible of me to ask you—”

“I will never leave you, m’love,” he said simply. She nodded, her eyes welling with tears again. Harry brushed them from her cheeks as they fell and she didn’t speak again. He pressed his forehead to hers. “You’re mine,” he said simply.

Last night / confidence was shaken / my wounds, and my past was saying “no one should ever love me like you do”

Harry walked into their shared apartment prepared to argue. It was how every single night began when he came home late from work. He didn’t like working late. Of course, he didn’t. He would much rather be home with the sweet love he adored so much. He wanted to shower her with love and affection.

But there were bills to pay and they didn’t have that kind of time to lounge around like some of their other friends who didn’t need to work as many hours as they did to afford the lavish lives they lived. Harry loved his career; it was endlessly rewarding to work with kids and adults alike to put families together and mend broken homes...but he wished it paid more. She wished the same of her own job; “do it for the outcome not the income” was a mantra in schools and her very own mantra as well.

They simply wanted time for one another. She couldn’t pick up extra hours like Harry could. So, he did the extra working, and she did the household chores and care. It was exhausting on both fronts, and it was rare she would be awake when Harry arrived home—drained from school and then chores.

Harry would be drained too, hopeful that maybe they could watch a show together or enjoy a meal together. It had been weeks since that had happened on a weeknight. It was hard to live as if they only existed together on the weekends.

That was the cause of the argument the previous night. It left for a silent day—no text messages, no voice messages, no tagging each other in funny pictures on social media. So, Harry was ready for another round of arguing. He was sure it would happen.

But instead, she was sitting there on the couch waiting expectantly, looking toward the door. “Hi,” she said so softly it barely reached Harry’s ears.

“Y’okay, kitten?” He asked softly at the sound of her gentle voice. The need to argue dissipated. She was all that mattered. He stood by the door afraid to really move beyond the entry way. He kicked his shoes off as she nodded.

“Yeah,” she swallowed. “Just...missed you,” she whispered brokenly and looked away from the door where Harry stood. “M’sorry,” she sniffled.

“Whoa, hey,” he said hurriedly and dropped his bag. He noted the folders spilling out of the bag and spread about the floor, but they didn’t matter at that moment. “Kitten,” he said and crouched in front of the sofa. He put his hands on her cheeks and brushed his thumbs along the tears that began to roll down her face. “Hey,” he repeated and brushed his thumb on her lower lip. “S’matter, m’love?” He asked.

She took a shaky breath in. “I thought you weren’t going to come home,” she croaked. “I worried all day.”

“Oh, baby,” he frowned. “M’sorry. Why didn’t you...” he stopped his own question. He knew why she didn’t text him or call him. He didn’t call or text her for the very same reason: they were both stubborn and the argument from the night before tainted everything.

“Then why don’t you just leave?!” She shouted. Harry felt his heart ice over and he stopped yelling about how she was always sleepy. How it sucked being trapped in this cycle of not seeing each other because it was so expensive to be alive. The idea of leaving her never crossed his mind. He never really understood why they argued. It seemed futile. It didn’t seem like anything would resolve the issues. It was just time. Time was needed for their positions to move up. She was finishing her second degree that would give her a bigger pay boost. Harry wouldn’t have to work long hours forever. She could get a second part time job or tutor. She had lots of time off due to school vacations. Harry wouldn’t be stuck doing the grunt work for the rest of his career.

But to hear her asking him to leave made him break. He stayed silent. He stared at her for a prolonged moment. Didn’t say a word. She was taking heaving breaths. Harry simply walked away, closed the door to their bedroom and went to bed.

“Kitten,” he cooed. “Baby, I...” he shook his head. “I can’t leave you. I don’t want t’leave you. Could never...” he promised and she sniffled, her breath catching in her throat as she inhaled shakily again.

“M’sor—”

“Baby, s’okay,” he promised bringing her toward him. “M’sorry, too. Behaved like a proper arse,” he murmured into her hair. She shrugged against him.

“M’always tired,” she reminded him. “I never see you,” she whimpered. He shook his head still.

“You’re always busy, kitten,” he said knowingly. “S’not your fault. I shouldn’t have gotten s’mad. I jus’ miss you, too.”

She nodded and looked up at him. “Please don’t leave me,” she begged so brokenly. “I know that’s terrible of me to ask you—”

No one should ever love me like you do / While I’m on this road, you take my hand / somehow, you really love who I really am / I push you away / still you won’t let go / you grow your roses on my barren soul

Harry’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. Just another thing that went wrong. The stupid piece of metal not turning over made him want to scream. “Harry,” she said gently.

“Kitten,” he shook his head. “Don’t,” he muttered bitterly.

She pressed her lips together nervously. He got out of the car after popping the hood and fiddled with a few pieces not fully sure of what he was doing but figured it couldn’t hurt. He swore and smacked the hood shut and pounded his fist against it angrily.

She hurried out of the car and came to his side. She reached for his arm and he shrugged her off. “Hey,” she said softly.

“Kitten, this is—”

“Hey,” she repeated. “Stop,” she said and forcefully grabbed his hands in hers. He felt himself melting almost instantly at her touch. He leaned against the front of the dead car on the silent road. “S’okay.”

“It’s your birthday,” he muttered.

She shrugged. “I just wanted to be with you,” she reminded him. She wedged herself between his knees and leaned toward him. “You’re the best gift of all,” she promised.

He thought about how much the repair would cost. How much time would have to be spent away from her to take care of the cost. How much time and money he couldn’t save for a ring that deserved to be on her finger.

And all she could think about was him.

“Why d’you even love me?” He muttered.

“I think you hypnotized me,” she joked. He didn’t even crack a smile. He felt miserable. If this was anyone else, they would have high tailed it out of here long ago. He had seen it before. “Hey,” she whispered.

“If y’were smart you’d leave me,” he mumbled. She brought her face so close to his and peered upwards to his withdrawn and defeated face. She smiled.

“Good thing I’m stupid, then,” she smirked again.

He rolled his eyes. “You really love me? Poor, broke, dead car and all?”

“And more,” she promised.

Harry felt the warmth of her words spread through his body. When they had spent a rare Sunday in bed staring at each other and enjoying their presence together in the quiet, chilly morning she said his fingertips spread warmth through her that it felt like how she imagined wildflowers grew in places that didn’t deserve growth. He didn’t understand a thing about her imagination. Didn’t know how wildflowers could grow where they didn’t belong.

His hands moved to her hips and pulled her closer to him between his legs. “I think I just fell more in love with you.”

“Surely there’s not much “more” left,” she smirked.

“You keep surprising me too,” he said, finally smiling.

“I’m so in love with you, Harry Styles.”

But when she loved him anyway, he thought maybe wildflowers could grow where they didn't belong—like in every inch of Harry’s broken and tired soul.

The way I push you through it / what you had to see / I’m a trainwreck / I’m a mess / you see the best and the worst of me / still I can’t imagine that I’ve earned your trust / I don’t understand where your love comes from

Like most things they did, it was just the two of them. She wore a stunning dress that didn’t trail behind her but anyone that looked at her would surely follow her with their gaze until she was physically not in view. With her hair pulled into a stylistic crown around a river of curls she looked like a picture out of Harry’s history textbook from university. She resembled a Greek goddess. Harry couldn’t stop staring at her even if he wanted to. Handsome as always she felt like the first time she laid eyes on Harry back in college. Effortlessly good-looking. His hair, his eyes, his smile, his tall frame all overwhelmed her senses in the best possible way. She couldn’t look away from him then and she couldn’t look away from him now.

They stood together in front of the town clerk, hand in hand. They were quiet and he watched her bite her pretty lip out of the corner of his eye. He squeezed her hand pulling her from her thoughts. Turning to look at him, she tilted her head curiously. He smiled so gently it crushed her. His cute dimple piercing his cheek and subsequently her heart.

When Styles was called Harry winked at her. “Last chance,” he said softly squeezing just below the fake diamond she picked out at Pandora on her left finger.

She shook her head at him with an eye roll. “I’d like to see you try.”

He chuckled. “No way, kitten,” he promised, and he watched her cheeks pink with the words he spoke. She was so, so stunning.

They gazed at each other while the clerk went through the legalities of the union. “Do you want to exchange vows?” He asked.

She glanced at Harry nervously. “I don’t...” She shook her head. “I don’t have anything prepared...I don’t—"

“I’m a mess, kitten,” Harry began, overtaken with how much he loved her and how this didn’t matter at all. He just wanted her to be all his forever and ever binding and legally. “You love me anyway. I promise I’ll love you forever. Loving you has been the easiest thing I’ve ever done. Through all the bad and all the good. I’m so very grateful to have you.”

She blinked and Harry watched the tears fill her vision. He brought his hand to her cheek and hovered his thumb over her lash line waiting for the tears to fall. “If you’re a mess, I’m a trainwreck,” she whispered. He smiled and shook his head. “I love you so much,” she promised. “I always will. I trust you with my entire life and that’s not an easy thing for me to do. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. If I could, I would marry you every single day for the rest of my life and nothing else.”

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. He could feel his eyes stinging with his own tears imagining her in thousands and thousands of dresses getting married all over again every single day. The idea made his heart thud loudly in his chest. “No one has ever loved me like you do,” he said.

“I don’t know how you love me so much,” she smiled so sweetly.

He sniffled and nodded blinking back the tears. “I really do,” he promised. “I don’t know how you put up with me.”

“S’the easiest thing I’ve ever done,” she answered.

“I love you.”

He pulled her toward him so he could press a kiss to her forehead. “I think we’re ready now,” he murmured to the clerk with a smile.

He smirked at Harry and nodded. He turned to the sweet girl first. “Do you take Harry to be your husband?”

“I do. Forever and ever.”

Harry couldn’t tear his gaze from her for a second. He remembered saying “I do,” as well, but it was overshadowed by their first kiss as husband and wife.

There was no party, no family, no presents.

There was some champagne—the good kind. They fed each other cupcakes she had made the night before and he licked the frosting from her lips as he kissed her over and over on their old couch in their apartment. He couldn’t stop looking at her.

She took his tie off and loosened his collar. Her gaze didn’t break from him for a second and she forwent her heels and snuggled against him in the couch cushions in her fancy dress. He pulled some bobby pins from her hair, releasing the trapped curls and up-do so she breathed a sigh of relief.

He kissed her so deeply she could feel it in her toes. When her tongue brushed against his lip teasingly, he felt the heat of her love from it pore through his body and reach every inch of his veins. It warmed him from the tip of his toes to the roots of his hair.

They put on a show that they didn’t watch. Instead, they stared into each other’s eyes not saying a word. They fell asleep on the couch in their wedding clothes. And that was it.

#harry #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic #hs #hs fic #harry styles smut #harry styles blurbs #needtobreathe #to be loved

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theflyindutchwoman · 9 months

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How do you think the writers will take Chenford moving forward? I know exploring long-term UC for Lucy and how that will impact Chenford's relationship is a possibility, but what do you think about other things like proposal, marriage and kids? Especially kids, since that is something Tim and Lucy have talked about numerous times.

I have this thought that pregnancy storyline was always written mainly due to logistics instead of what the writers wanted in originally. This mainly stems from the fact that the few times they have pregnancy in the show were because the actresses that played Angela Lopez and Nyla Harper were pregnant themselves and thus pregnancy was written in the storyline, so it kinda makes me think Tim and Lucy having kids may not be something we will see in the series. What do you think?

Ooh speculation time… This might be an unpopular opinion, but I agree, I don't see Lucy and Tim having a baby in the near future, at least not if the writers have a say in it.

As you mentioned, these storylines have been written to accommodate the actresses' real life pregnancies (not sure for Angela's second baby). They didn't get to properly prepare in advance, hence the three unplanned pregnancies plotlines. And I think that's partially the reason why Tim and Lucy have been speaking about kids so much : the writers want to do with them what they didn't get to do with the other couples. We didn't see the conversation, the planning… None of that. They have this opportunity here. Even better, Lucy and Tim had both already their own arc about this topic : her with the fertility clinic and him with having his dream of being a father being dashed repeatedly. And it's something they've discussed together in the past, so it makes sense that they would bring it up from time to time. But I don't think that means they are planning babies just yet. Ideally, Lucy would first get settled in her career - same with Tim for that matter. Otherwise, it would simply be a repeat of Angela's struggles when she got pregnant just as she was becoming a detective. I also wonder whether they're going to reopen the fertility clinic arc or not… In the meantime, having them coach Little League or spend a day with their Make-A-Dream kid is actually a smart way to give us some insights on what kind of parents they could be, without having to introduce a child just quite yet. We may get to see them as parents one day, I'm not ruling it out completely, but it will depend on how many more seasons we get.

If I had to venture a guess, I'd say that the first order of business would be to resolve the undercover/promotion storyline for Lucy. The writers have been teasing this arc all season long, so it's time to move forward. I don't mean that Lucy necessarily has to take a final decision regarding undercover, just that she needs to get to the next stage of her career. Undercover aside, Tim already mentioned that their scheduling hours could present an issue once she makes detective, that they might spend less time together. So it would be interesting to delve a little into that, see how they make it work… which could, in turn, lead to a conversation about moving in together and/or buying a house. After all, that's the discussion that set the wheels in motion and brought Tim and Lucy together. So that could be a full-circle moment. And it could pave the way for the next step : proposal.

Now, I don't think we will see one next season : with S6 shortened, it might be tricky. I know it might also seem too soon, but these two are already serious and committed, they know what they want and they know the other very well. Besides, so far, all the main couples got engaged relatively fast : Wesley proposed to Angela after 6-9 months of dating, Nyla and James got married after a few months (though in all fairness, it was precipitated by the pregnancy) and Nolan was ready to ask Bailey after dating her for like 8 episodes?! There's clearly a pattern here. But again, with a shorter season and a wedding already planned, the writers might want to keep that for later… All in all, it will really depend on how short this season will be (we stand with WGA/SAG-AFTRA in this house) and whether they can get a renewal for s7.

#ask & ye shall receive #the rookie #chenford #lucy chen #tim bradford

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anghraine · 2 years

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A more coherent part of the adaptation+Darcy post I was threatening to release from drafts purgatory:

While I think all adaptations' versions of Darcy are pretty bad at representing Austen's character, though sometimes compelling in their own right, I think the various choices made are all ways of addressing the same problem with the character as written.

It's not a problem in the novel—indeed, I'd say it's a remarkable achievement there—but I think we don't always realize how extremely ambiguous the presentation of Darcy is through the first half of the novel. It's easy to read him as basically hostile because he was when he first appeared and because Elizabeth, our smart, likable POV character, gets stuck in that perception of him for half the book. So it's only on re-reading that most audiences realize Elizabeth drastically misread his real feelings and the original interpretation of his manner is thrown into question, at the very least.

But as I said in the other post, Austen plays fair: it is entirely possible to realize that Elizabeth is mistaken about some things (esp about how he feels towards her), it is possible to realize that particularly observant characters find his expressions and behavior difficult to interpret, it's possible to notice that we are rarely told how he's speaking or smiling, and scenes typically cut off before we can be told. And it's possible to notice the many issues with Wickham's account of him.

But it's also entirely possible to read everything he says and does as Elizabeth does, and the narrative gently encourages us to do so without often committing to actual description that would guide us in those ambiguous scenes. Austen might have, for instance, described his smiles in the Netherfield scenes as contemptuous, polite, or pleasant. But she just repeats that he's smiling while drawing very little attention to the fact and rarely committing to an indication of what his smiles or presentation of dialogue are like. So it's mostly up to us to decide, with the occasional (dubious in some respects) interpretation from Elizabeth.

And we're likely to reach different conclusions on re-reading—the earlier presentation of Darcy rewards re-reading a lot, because a lot of the time, we don't even realize how much we're not being told until the letter or even the Pemberley scenes, where Elizabeth identifies the smile we saw in his earlier scenes as the same one in the painting done during his beloved father's lifetime—making, say, the "contemptuous" reading very unlikely.

Now, getting away with that level of ambiguity and obscuring that the ambiguity is happening in the first place, as Austen manages to do in the novel, is both impressive and a hell of a lot harder in visual form. Not impossible! But if we see and hear him ourselves we're less likely to form judgments shaped by Austen's tricks of narration and Elizabeth's POV, and this typically involves commitment to a particular aspect of his presentation in the novel.

And if you think about it, the four major adaptations of Darcy are essentially committing to some part of his depiction.

Laurence Olivier's Darcy is smiling, witty, and charismatic—which are a part of his personality, but skewed so far out of proportion that he's virtually unrecognizable. And there's no attempt to obscure his place in the narrative as the actual love interest (I assume because duh, it's Laurence Olivier—but it was a pretty unrewarding role for him as written).

David Rintoul's Darcy is (in)famously "robotic"—the 1980 version of him leans into the withdrawn, inexpressive, difficult to read but clearly uncomfortable version of Darcy. The smiles in the earlier part tend to be tight, a matter of form, and/or unconvincing, by contrast to the later Darcy's comportment towards the Gardiners and Elizabeth, esp after the second proposal.

Colin Firth's Darcy is, well—okay, I'm biased because of my intense dislike for the 1995 production, but I do think it's also struggling with the same issue, but responds in the opposite way as the 1980. Where the 1980 tried to replicate the ambiguity in a way that retained Darcy's tendency towards a certain severity and dignity and mostly ended up at expressionless, the 1995 transforms it into visibly intense, sexualized brooding. This is coupled with Elizabeth's perception of Darcy's hostility being much more validated than in the novel; he snaps at her, most of his textual smiles are removed, even his letter is rearranged with an eye to half-dressed angst rather than the subtle charity of the omitted "God bless you", and generally his angst and passion!!! are played up rather than down ("I shall conquer this!!" / the melodramatic pond dive and shift in focus from Elizabeth's shame to Darcy being barely dressed / Darcy being grim in London, etc).

If the 1995 version of Darcy commits to Darcy's behavior being largely how Elizabeth sees it, the 2005 drastically reverses that. Matthew Macfadyen's Darcy is also struggling with passion, but tbh he seems like he's kind of struggling with everything. He's visibly consumed with anxiety, he's obviously shy where Darcy has to explain his discomfort or experience it as a POV character in the novel, he seems sweet despite occasional classism, and at times his arc seems more about learning to relax than anything else. That is, instead of representing Darcy as more or less accurately seen by Elizabeth, it leans into emphasizing the extent of her misunderstanding, with Darcy's behavior both more sympathetic than she sees it and clearly comprehensible if she weren't so biased against him (fwiw, The Lizzie Bennet Diaries also emphasizes Elizabeth's misjudgment to a considerable extent and deals with the ambiguity by keeping him literally offstage).

The point of all this is that there is a core issue of adaptation here—the difficulty of representing subtle novelistic ambiguity while making Darcy emotionally compelling at the same time. Adapted Darcys are often given extra scenes, altered dialogue, or (where described in the novel) altered mannerisms/emotions to try and achieve this. And all lean so hard into the aspect they choose to emphasize that they tend to sacrifice most of the rest of his personality to the interpretation they're committing to, and his feelings for Elizabeth tend to be incredibly obvious to the point that it sometimes strains belief that she wouldn't see them, even with all her investment in not seeing them.

I guess the thing is that I think just stopping with "this is an issue of the different media and can't be represented on film" is boring and underestimates the potential of film as a medium. There are plenty of performances that can only be fully appreciated on re-watching or re-listening to something with a fuller knowledge of what is revealed later. And to some degree, the adapters do have to choose how much they want to incorporate Elizabeth's perception of Darcy vs the bare narrative and what they're willing to give away about him to preserve what seems most important.

These are all active choices with actual significance, IMO. They imply priorities about the production and their production's take on Darcy that are intriguing in a way that gets lost by just giving them a free pass by way of the challenge of the medium.

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samufigueiredo · 11 months

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The dangers of longing for the picturesque - A Secret History Review

Just finished reading The Secret History and can’t help but be stuck thinking about the pursuit of aesthetic. It quite saddens me that the very obvious moral of this novel gets so easily lost at times, and the idea of finishing it and going back to my life of aesthetic pursuit sounds dreadful but expectable in this imagery fill age of quick dopamine.

I could make an extensive review solely complimenting the terrific writing of Donna Tartt and her plot construction, but I feel that to fall into the mistake of staying merely on the picturesque level and not drive into the base ideas entranced into it would be a massive disservice to the author. So instead, I will be exploring a bit of my personal relationship with this book and why I find it a valuable read.

“It has always been hard for me to talk about Julian without romanticizing him. In many ways, I loved him the most of all; and it is with him that I am most tempted to embroider, to flatter, to basically reinvent. I think that is because Julian himself was constantly in the process of reinventing the people and events around him, conferring kindness, or wisdom, or bravery, or charm, on actions which contained nothing of the sort. It was one of the reasons I loved him: for that flattering light in which he saw me, for the person I was when I was with him, for what it was he allowed me to be” (p. 576)

My entire life I feel like I have been constructing intricate characters of which the skin I can dress myself with, representing a capsule of ideas and values and how I desire to translate these to the exterior. My own name has been chosen on the basis of a character that could represent everything I wish I would be, as well as everything I wish I wasn’t nicely accompanied by people to love me for it anyways. As a queer person who grew up surrounded by social media and mental health issues, I often regard my life as an endless performance. Even my love for reading started as an attempt to be more like the people who read around me – I feel in love with the act of reading before I can remember falling in love with a book itself.

“Though Julian could be marvelously kind in difficult circumstances of all sorts, I sometimes got the feeling that he was less pleased by kindness itself than by the elegance of the gesture.” (p. 539)

If I search my memory well enough, I can find some vivid memories of playing dress up and makeover games in primary school. This was done with a notebook on the side, so I could make notes of everything I did to the animations and be able to do the same to myself later on. These lists of things I would do before the new year, new month, new week, were not just beauty centered. In my mind they translated into making friends, being positively perceived, having good grades and above else just having a clue of what I was doing and enjoying myself while doing it.

These lists become a ever present friend while I was growing up, and the act would be repeated in different media. The mannerisms of the beautiful and interesting character that was loved by everyone else, the Instagram account from which I saved pictures so I could inspire myself later, the Tumblr thread full off books that I must read no matter how much I lacked interest in some, the Pinterest albums that represented how I wished to be perceived in the coming year, and so on.

“I had spent dozens of hours studying the photographs as though if I stared at them long enough and longingly enough I would, by some sort of osmosis, be transported into their clear, pure silence. Even now I remember those pictures, like pictures in a storybook one loved as a child." (p.10)

I learned how to present myself and how to translate how I wanted to be perceived into aesthetic ideals before I could even quite grasp what those ideals meant, and until this day I have a hard time letting go of this desire for image base simplification.

“Viewed from a distance, his character projected an impression of solidity and wholeness which was in fact as insubstantial as a hologram; up close, he was all motes and light, you could pass your hand right through him. If you stepped back far enough, however, the illusion would click in again and there he would be, bigger than life, squinting at you from behind his little glasses and raking back a dank lock of hair with one hand. A character like his disintegrates under analysis. It can only be denned by the anecdote, the chance encounter or the sentence overheard.” (p. 438)

The morbid longing for the picturesque at all costs (p. 5) is culturally ingrained in us, and in the present, it can be interesting to consider what role does social media and image based websites have on this. We are all increasingly longing for outer beauty and constructing and shifting aesthetic ideals, so we can chase them and feel in control of how we are perceived and what our life is made of. But we often forgot that we also need to fill the shell itself. These aesthetics can be fun and even empowering at times, but on their own they will not make us fulfilled, they will fail in giving us a sense of community as well as one of individuality. And above all, they leave us with a sore taste in our mouths and a sense of disappointment, because the more we attempt to find fulfillment in them, the more we feel like the failure is in ourselves – the aesthetic is not the right one or we are not letting ourselves fall into it enough – and not in the chase itself.

“'After all, the appeal to stop being yourself, even for a little while, is very great,' he said. 'To escape the cognitive mode of experience, to transcend the accident of one's moment of being. (…) . But one mustn't underestimate the primal appeal – to lose one's self, lose it utterly. And in losing it be born to the principle of continuous life, outside the prison of mortality and time.” (p. 182)

And when does it stop? When does the disconnect become too striking to be ignored any longer? When does the romanization start to make the thing itself rotten and disappointing and how do we avoid that? When do we stop and recognize that just because we are deeply absorbed by this road it does not mean we should keep following it?

“There is nothing wrong with the love of Beauty. But Beauty – unless she is wed to something more meaningful – is always superficial. It is not that your Julian chooses solely to concentrate on certain, exalted things; it is that he chooses to ignore others equally as important.” (p. 577)

The imaginary world, the picturesque and its beauty, can be tremendous tools in driving through the madness of the real world. But on itself they are not enough, we need to find fulfillment in reality, and love in presence.

#the secret history #donna tartt #booklover #book review #dark academia #aestethic #academia aesthetic #secret history quotes #romantizing life #escapism

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ruminate88 · 14 days

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A partial breakthrough:

So I had to go to the dentist today… haven’t been since I was a child 😓 Whatever, that’s no big deal. The big deal is going somewhere by myself…. I realize for years I focused on everyone but me. I talked to emotionally unavailable men who made me feel like sh*t. Why did I talk to them??? They were lying about making me feel that way… With their words, they’re promising me Jupiter but with their actions, they’re acting like I’m a stupid idiot who doesn’t deserve to be alive. Andrew was with me during a suicide attack ensuring me that something is wrong with me… who could resort to suicide, unless something is seriously messed up with them?? LIES!!!!!!

So long I knew nothing about manipulating or emotional abuse & how worthless they are trying to make you believe you are. Make you feel like a burden when they dump alll their burdens on you and ask you to carry them!!! Cody cried to me so many times “please fix me” uggggh 😭😭😭 bro, I can’t fix myself. How can I fix you??? But with allllll the love in my heart, I tried!!!!! I was faithful to Cody and Andrew!!!! They drug my heart through the mud and I didn’t understand it…..

I already didn’t trust myself after I broke up with Andrew but I didn’t know why. THEN when I learn about emotional abuse, I realize how evil the world is. How cruel and selfish people are. I begin to make sense of all my digestive issues I’ve been having and various other problems!!!!!!!!! My body won’t ever rest and I NEVER feel confident to go out and do anything new by myself. It all makes sense now!! I’m almost nervous to go out by myself cuz in the back of my mind, what if my exes are stalking me or what if something else happens AND I don’t wanna live in fear like that 😳😳😳

Someone told me the other day, “you gotta tell your brain that you’re safe now.” Like ok, I’m trying but it stays froze up. I don’t trust anyone new and I don’t go for anything new. I watch the same sitcoms on repeat. For years: I’ve felt guilt when I buy myself something. No matter how small…. I’ve neglected myself so long. I mean, I haven’t been to the freakin dentist since I was a kid!!!!! Today was HUGE for me. (It’s not that my parents like didn’t help me growing up, they did just that at some point they depended on me to take care of grandma and help my bro out so like they passively aggressively ignored my needs to use me but they really needed me and I was a kid… I didn’t know what I was doing but I took on this “mother” role & just self abandoned so easy.)

I have been asking myself lately, why IS it so hard to take care of my own needs… why is it so scary and painful?? Why do I fear doing adult things on my own??? I mean, school labeled me with a “learning disability” I’ve battled that all my life trying to get over that label PLUS talking to emotionally unavailable men who consistently put me down… always being critical of me so I expect it now. I wait for my husband to be critical and put me down. Then if he doesn’t, I beat myself up because I know I’m comparing him to past relationships 😓 that’s not fair to him!!!! I’ve lived my marriage with one foot in and one foot ready to flee if it goes dark again… 💔💔

I feel this WALL currently in front of me and I know it’s a part of the healing journey that needs another break through. Also, I need to legit forgive my exes not just keep saying it but acting on it and I need to get over the past. Get over this “wall” I feel. This “emotional barrier” keeping me from being in the present with my family and husband. Ugh.

I don’t know what’s next but I don’t believe I’m stuck. I just believe I’m learning more life lessons and help is on the way. I WILL get over this wall. I haven’t been able to legit full on cry like I use to. I wanna cry for Andrew and even Cody. I cried when we broke up but I mean, I wanna cry to where I grieve fully over Andrew and then just let him go!!!! Plz God 🙏🏻

One more thing: I’ve been tired beyond words. I have had zero energy to do anything hardly. I realize for the first time this week I HAVE TO REST!!!!!! 😝😝😝 I want to keep going and I will but I mean on top of healing the trauma and the betrayal, I’ve been healing my digestive and now needing trips to the dentist like I never dreamt all this would happen!!!!!! (Not blaming the dentist trips on the abuse, that’s just part of ignoring myself too long) I thought it was just a heart break 💔 but when it wouldn’t heal so easy, I KNEW something was more serious at play. I can’t quite explain it but wow. 🤯 it’s sooo much…..

One Freakin Day At A Time 🥴❤️‍🩹🙏🏻🥺😝

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messiahzzz · 3 months

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So I came across your post for Wyll. And even though you did an update it really did shake me to see the silencing black voices and how they come off as “hostile.” As a black gamer myself and black character is treated (usually) like a subhuman. On pages where people calm them slurs and other vile things. And we’re told to essentially “get over it.” And in this regard when it comes to Wyll, we see that he has less content than the other 5 origin characters. Which is odd since he’s been around from the very beginning. Yes, he did have a rewrite due to white people saying “he’s not trustworthy/he’s to mean” like black people as a whole are supposed to fit into a nice little mold that suits them. Do I think Larian should have stood on business and kept EA Wyll as he was? Absolutely. Do I enjoy the Wyll we got at release? Absolutely. But hearing takes like yours when you, in the past, said that Wyll needs more content. It’s like you’re backpedaling to fit a narrative or be more palatable for a certain audience.

I don’t know man. It was just hurtful to read really.

“But hearing takes like yours when you, in the past, said that Wyll needs more content. It’s like you’re backpedaling to fit a narrative or be more palatable for a certain audience.”

this is going to be a long reply, but let me start it off by saying: i have always said so and i’ve never claimed anything different, even on the exact post you are currently referring to. i fully and wholeheartedly believe that wyll deserves more content until he has the exact same amount of scenes like everyone else. this includes the quality and any other aspect of his story that is in thorough need of improvement. this is something that won’t ever change.

for the sake of full transparency, these are all of the posts i’ve written that vaguely address this entire topic. [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]

the original post is — like i’ve said many, many times by now — a mere scene tally. meant to compare the amount of content (not the quality or substance thereof) wyll currently has in the game, taken in strict comparison to the other companions. not addressing the racial stereotypes and tropes present in wyll’s story in this specific post was a conscious choice i made.

i didn’t want this specific post to turn into a discussion about racism in media/fandom in the first place, because i fully believe that it is a complex and crucial topic that deserves to be addressed separately and with just as much consideration, respect, and care. as well as with actual, coherent references to back it up. however, i also recognize that these topics are inherently and inevitably interlinked. which is why i felt it unfair to refuse dialogue. i considered it my responsibility to explain my approach and also reiterate what the original purpose of said post was. …until it got out of hand.

i do think we’ve reached a point where a certain (loud minority) of the fandom is vehemently insistent on misunderstanding and misinterpreting anything i will say henceforth, no matter how many times i will repeat myself and explain my intentions. this is unfortunate, but ultimately how fandom as a whole works. branding a single person as “the problem”, while goading and egging each other on, on their respective discord servers until the next discourse pops up. and before anyone even goes in that direction: no, this is not me playing the victim, but merely an observation.

people that have been following my blog for a while now likely know that my posts are almost always accompanied by strict data & examples. i rarely derail from the topic at hand and prefer to make separate posts for each issue i want to address — not a justification, but an explanation. another example, to further illustrate what i’m referring to: if i made a post about the number of scenes gale has in comparison to the other characters and someone else asked me: why "i am not addressing the grooming and abuse he suffered through mystra as well?”. i would also tell them that: yes, while this is a crucial theme that stretches throughout his entire story and ultimately shaped his character, this is not the purpose of this specific post.

i genuinely love wyll as a character, he is one of my favorite companions in the entire game and it saddens me that there is so very little fan content of him. however, i do feel like that by effectively shutting down every discussion around him that isn’t centered on his personality and/or his romance it will inevitably leave fans burned out and even more discouraged from creating more content with him than they were in the first place. policing others on the topics that are acceptable/unacceptable to talk about (and in which manner they should be addressed) is only putting further restrictions on the little content wyll already has within fandom. it is counterproductive.

i can assure you that it was never my intention to be hurtful. neither to make poc players feel like i am silencing them nor urging them to “be quiet and get over it.” quite the contrary, in fact. i believe correction is necessary to ensure that the data (we give larian for review) is detailed, comprehensive, and factually correct. so it will be taken seriously and consistent, elaborate changes will be made. instead of merely receiving a few measly bug fixes to appease the masses.

i do hope you’ll respect my decision to remove myself from this discussion entirely and not send me any more asks regarding said topic in the future, nor reply to this post. respectful and civil dialogue is something i will never reject, but i’d also really like to let it rest and have us all focus on the aspects of fandom that genuinely bring us joy & allow for the pleasant kind of escapism.

now, since this was a lot of text, allow me to sum it up once more:

i fully believe that wyll deserves more content. until the quality, as well as the amount of his scene are exactly on par with the rest of the companions.

i have never urged anyone towards inaction or claimed that the fandom should simply “shut up and be content” with what they’re given.

what i have criticized is the methods of action that were taken by a small amount of fandom (i.e. petitions and demands directed at larian) my personal opinion being that it is not a long-term effective approach that will bring about the desired results (said petitions not even entering larian’s peripheral vision or being consciously ignored entirely). as well as being rather disrespectful to the developers and the people that continuously work on the game.

i have never claimed that you shouldn’t critique larian. in fact, i do this often myself. there are maaaaanyyyyy aspects to be critical of.

i personally believe that it is a much more efficacious approach to provide larian with direct feedback via their form. i have provided instructions, as well as examples of reports you could write on my posts (upon specific request) and also repeatedly linked to their website.

last but not least: please let it rest ✨

#asks #it speaks #racism mention #fandom discourse

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notabled-noodle · 2 years

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So ive done some thinking about ADHD

And ik this isn't a diagnostic trait

But I've heard lots of psychologists and psychiatrists and even diagnosed people, mention how adhd people keep on making the same mistakes over and over again cuz they "forget" the outcome that they've witnessed every single time

At first when i started wondering whether i had ADHD or not, that didnt sound like me. Im an anxious person, I triple check whatever I'm gonna do before I do it . Odering food online?? I reread the ingredients and the order 4 times before pressing order. Going to use the bus? I check the time schedule over and over even tho ik i cant have seen the wrong timethe 5 times i checked and rechecked it. So basically I usually leave no room for myself to make mistakes and If i make one I take it hard and never ever make it...

Or so i thought.

The respective mistakes that I make dont affect others. Thats the difference. No one else can spot them other than me. Cuz they don't change anyone's day, mood etc

I think that some subtle mistakes that people with adhd could be repeating are:

Sleeping. Every single day, I promise myself to sleep early to atleast get 8 hours of sleep. And every single night I forget my promise and I just end up finding myself thrown in a crazy rabbit hole in the midst of the night and going to sleep real late and getting barely 5 hours of sleep. Do i understand that its a mistake? Yeah. But do I at the moment forget the outcome? Also yeah.

Doing chores such as laundry, the dishes etc. These tasks are the hell of a neurodivergent person whether its due to a sensory issue, procrastination, the task being too boring? Who knows depends on the person. Often times i find my laundry and dishes piling up and i find myself scared of begining. I make excuses, I give myself a hard time cuz if I have time for washing the dishes then I have time to work/study etc. And yet every single time when i get the motivation and energy to do the dishes...i finish quite fast?? And i always regret not washing them?? Like no matter how many times i do the dishes i always end up convincing myself its some huge hard mission that needs total focua and total lack of responsibiliies

Now Idk if all what i said makes sense. Ive barely known about adhd for a year now. I read up on it to understand a friend whom said they believed to have it..and oh god did i hesitate about it in the beginning. But I did a lot of research and ive related to lots of stuff before deciding on self diagnosing. The main problem was that my symptoms presented subtly and it was hard for me to distinguish them.

I'm sending you this long ask cuz I know how knowledgeable you are on this topic and also because I read all of your posts and find myself agreeing with them

Do you think that these traits could be associated with adhd? Also what other times do you believe people with ADHD end up forgetting about an experience they would have learned about quiet fast were they neurotypical?

yeah, this often comes down to impulsivity, short-term memory problems, and not necessarily being able to think about things in a “cause and effect” way.

the anxiety and the desire to check, double-check, and triple-check everything can come as a direct result of years of being punished for impulsivity. over time, people with ADHD can learn what actions have a negative effect on others, and alter their behaviour to suit. it can be a lot harder to do this when you’re the only one suffering the consequences — you need a lot more self-control as opposed to externally enforced rules and boundaries.

in my experience, people with ADHD seem to be fairly good at breaking things down into past self, present self, and future self. the problem is that we see the future self as a completely different person to the present self. i.e. thinking “I’ll be able to do this tomorrow”, despite having no evidence that you’ll magically be able to learn those skills in 24 hours time.

the examples you included were pretty good! other instances of this could be:

procrastinating hygiene related things, even if you have the energy to do them right now — giving your future self those responsibilities because you’d rather be doing something else right now

quitting a bad habit or starting up a new one — you may want to reduce your screen time, but right now you also really want to see that new YouTube video and oh well, might as well start being good about it tomorrow

generally building tasks up in your head to be harder than they actually are, which then causes the tasks to build up, which makes them even harder than they would’ve been if you’d just done it straight away (a vicious cycle)

in behavioural economics, you’d say that someone with ADHD has intense “future discounting”. that is, we predict that the suffering of tomorrow will be less than the suffering of today. and we also predict that the joy of today will be reduced if we saved that joy until tomorrow. it can be challenging for someone with ADHD to process the concept of “delayed gratification”, because we can’t accurately imagine the reality of our future selves.

I hope this answered your question, and that it helped!

#asks #adhd

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violettelueur · 3 years

Text

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE TWENTY FOUR || ACCOMPLICES

↳ featuring : itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi + kugisaki nobara + gojo satoru + nitta akari from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of violence + mention of curses + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 22 may

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 3.5k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but….

↳ previous episode : the origin of blind obedience 2

↳ barista’s notes : so here we are for the final episode of season one of jujutsu kaisen for my series, it’s been a long journey since i started this in early feburary and now it is late may ʕ ꆤ ᴥ ꆤʔ wow times does go really fast, doesn’t it? well, i hope you enjoy this cup of special classic black coffee and prepare for the jujutsu strolls that are going to be coming soon when you ask for a bit of milk in your coffee ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’.

Hakufuku : 10:19-10:32

2.5. for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique : hopefully this video is slightly better…

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.

SAITAMA URAMI EAST JUNIOR HIGH - 1ST YEAR

“Here you go, you’ll need this”

Turning his head to look up, Fushiguro quickly noticed someone standing over him with their hand stretched out in front of him leading his eyes to peer down, only to notice a bandage wrap within the palm of their hands causing him to turn away as if he was looking away in disgust.

“Here you go, you’ll need this, you drag,” you repeated with the insult causing an irk to appear on Fushiguro’s forehead before turning to look at you with an annoyed expression present on his face.

“Go away, I don’t need it,” Fushiguro mentioned with some hint of annoyance and irritation within his tone causing the same irk to appear on your forehead as you then turned your head to look at the pile of beaten bodies that were behind him - an unsightly common sight since you enrolled into Saitama Urami East Junior High.

Sighing out loud, you suddenly grabbed the back of Fushiguro’s collar and began dragging him across the floor towards the bench that was close by (much to Fushiguro’s annoyance) and threw his body slight causing his upper shoulder area to hit the wooden side of the bench which lead him to hiss in pain.

“I don’t need it~ well sounds like you do,” you teased in a nonchalant manner causing Fushiguro to give you a sharp glare only to see that you had no reaction to it. Reaching into your blazer pocket, you took out a box of painkillers with some plasters in different sizes and a small pot of ointment before placing them on the outdoor bench.

“Don’t bother your sister too much...okay?” you rhetorically asked your classmate before turning back to walk away from the situation since you knew Fushiguro was going to question you on your knowledge about his sister even though he - on the outside - never really took the time to appreciate her or showed that he cared.

“What a drag,” you commented with another sigh before stretching your arms down to release the act that was slowly creeping its way to your shoulders as some students began to exit out of the school building to eat their lunch causing them to notice you as you gave them a little wave.

A FEW WEEKS LATER

Ever since that day, Fushiguro couldn’t help but begin to notice you slightly from the corner of his eyes as each day went by. At first, you sort of blended into the crowd in the sea of uniforms that was travelling around in the hallway, seeming to not want any attention from the teachers nor the students alike yet you seemed to somehow attract them leading you to offer the same small smile that he had somewhat gotten used to.

On the other hand, Fushiguro couldn’t help but get slightly annoyed at how your name was being called by the second, it was always “Y/N” this or “Y/N” that since you hated your last name being called. As in a matter of fact, he didn’t even have any acknowledgement or a hint of a clue of what your last name was at all. However, when you would say your name in your own tone, Fushiguro slowly began to notice how he then wouldn't get irritated causing a wave of confusion to hit him every time he would wonder why.

“Y/N, aren’t you going to participate in the elections for the student council, the teachers have nominated you?” one female student asked in a light tone causing Fushiguro to peak slightly over his arm as he was taking a nap for this lunch break, only to see you holding a book with a few other female students surrounding you.

“Nah, it’s such a drag...I don’t like taking responsibility for things,” you commented softly as you placed your thumb over the last word you were reading to keep a hold of your place causing the students around you to become confused before asking more questions causing some of your answers to perplex the erratic haired boy himself.

“I’m not good at organising things”

“I don’t have the time”

“I don’t like helping people”

“Liar,” Fushiguro muttered under his breath before closing his eyes again to fall into a quick nap while repeating the last words you had said to the students around you.

“I don’t like helping people”

If you really didn’t like helping people, then why did you help him a few weeks ago? As well as leaving some first aid kit items on his table at the end of lunch to restock shall he say? Sure, you had helped other people here and there from letting them copy your notes to little study sessions during lunch to help the other person concentrate but he was wondering why you would help a delinquent like him...but further yet, why didn’t you ask for anything in return.

“Y/N, I found you,” someone shouted, causing Fushiguro’s ears to spike up once he knew the familiar tone to the voice that decided to enter the conversation.

“I wanted to apologise for Megumi’s behaviour for the past weeks and wanted to pay you back for the medical items you had given him,” Tsumiki informed you causing Fushiguro to slowly open his eyes again to see Tsumiki’s arm outstretched with some cash within her palm while you looked down on at with a hint of disappointment in your face.

“Don’t bother your sister too much...okay?”

Placing your bookmark on the page you were on, you gently placed it down before folding Tsumiki’s fingers over the money she was kindly offering you as payment, leading her to give you a surprising expression since, with that action, she instantly knew you were declining.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to repay me...Just take care of him, okay?” you mentioned with a soft tone before smiling up at your senior leading Fushiguro’s curiosity about you to heighten up even further than it was at the beginning.

“I don’t like helping people”

SAITAMA URAMI EAST JUNIOR HIGH - 2ND YEAR

Walking in the school hallways, Fushiguro couldn’t help but notice how the gloomy and mundane weather was reflecting everyone’s mood as it seemed as if everyone had a lack of energy this morning and to be honest, he couldn’t blame them one single bit.

It was the day after, Tsumiki decided to attempt the test of courage at Yasohachi Bridge causing her to become cursed as she fell into a sudden coma causing guilt to begin eating him almost wholly as he took each step in the hallway.

From what he recalled, Gojo had mentioned that Tsumiki was somewhat saved by a cursed technique leading her to not become physically injured at the attempt of jumping off, yet that didn’t save her from the curse that fell upon her since the lingering reverse cursed energy that was surrounding her body wasn’t enough or effective on her and the other students that decided to tag along with her leading him to wonder who was the person that tried to save his sister and her friends from that night.

Suddenly, Fushiguro heard something drop from behind causing him to turn his body completely, only to discover a fallen student leading him to widen his eyes on the sight before crouching down to check the pulse of the person only to discover that they were fine, as he then processed to turn his head to the side where more students from the classroom beside him began to drop one by one leading him to become more panicked since this was just the day after Tsumiki’s curse.

Unexpatantly, Fushiguro heard someone beginning to run towards his direction causing him to turn his head once again, only to find you running towards him with a somewhat worried expression on your face as you began to look at each classroom to see all the students within them passed out.

“Fushiguro!” you shouted in a panic leading him to quickly stand up on his feet as he reached out to you so he could rush you out of the school building to get you to Gojo to ensure your safety. If you were able to help him multiple times, maybe this time he could help you as his repayment.

Grabbing your hand, Fushiguro turned to his feet to begin running but for some reason, you weren’t running with him due to the halt of his movements when trying to pull you towards the exit of the school.

“Y/N, what are you doing? We got to run!” Fushiguro shouted in anger as he turned his head to face you eye to eye, only to come into eye contact with dark but glowing purple eyes causing his body to slowly become limp as his vision began to become gradually disorientated as an illusion of purple cherry blossoms began to fall around the both of you.

“Hakufuku”

Suddenly, Fushiguro began to lose his footing causing his body to quickly fall, only for you to catch him in your arms as you slowly lowered yourself to make sure his body didn’t harshly hit the floor due to any injuries he had gained from yesterday’s fight as you laid him on his side.

“Sorry, Fushiguro,” you whispered with a hint of regret before rapidly standing back up to run the other way which seemed towards the school’s computer’s system leading him slowly turn his head as he struggled to reach out towards your direction before the same arm dropped completely while his mind began to grow blank while your figure steadily disappeared from his sights while his memories of you began to gradually fade as he tried to maintain them with such difficulty.

“Y/N…”

THE DAY BEFORE THE MISSON

“You’ve been reading those books for quite some time, you know”

Turning your head away from the book placed upon your lap, you discovered Gojo in front of you with a teasing smile on his face as his body was leaning on the side of the doorway he had entered from.

“Well, there are quite a few to go through,” you muttered as you turned your head to the other side to see two piles of stacked up books that were somewhat in equal height right now with one pile of the books that you needed to read while the other was the books you had finished reading during the past weeks since you had moved into the Gojo’s clan estate.

From what you could recall the day you stepped foot into Gojo’s house, he had surprisingly guided you into a room that was filled with bookshelves that had books comfortably sitting in its place causing your eyes to widen at the sight only for him to inform you that all that books had belonged in your name.

“All of them belong to me?” you remembered asking leading your adoptive father to giggle slightly at your confused and flustered state as you began to roam around the pathway the bookshelves had given you, only to land on a particular shelf that had books written from your clan to which seemed to be addressed to you.

“I see you found the books, your mother was really smart to lock them and make sure you’re the only person who could read them,” Gojo mentioned to you when he had found you staring at them leading you to turn to him with a perplexed expression only for him to further explain that whenever he tried to touch the weathered spine of the book he would feel an invisible barrier blocking his movements and even when he attempted to use his infinity, there was no use.

However, when it was you, it just seemed like a normal book due to how easily you pull gently and carefully pull it out of the shelf and open it, only for Gojo to comment that all he could see what blank pages yet sense the linger cursed energy that was coming through the paper-based artefact. While on the other hand, you were able to view the elegant black brush strokes gracing the paper which was slightly confusing since you weren’t able to fully comprehend the poetic and outdated Japanese due to how influential the Chinese language was during the Heian era.

“I can’t believe you are technically older than me~” Gojo teased while wiping a fake tear from the corner of his eye, causing you to immediately snap out of your daydream to fully turn to him with a completely annoyed expression painted on your face.

“I DIDN’T AGE ONCE DURING MY SEALING, YOU DRAG!” you screamed in irritation causing the servant who was coming to serve you some tea to stumble slightly before regaining her balance as she let out a sigh of relief, leading you to deeply apologise to her before rushing up to your feet to help her on carrying the wooden, circular tea tray that she was holding on for you.

“I wish I got to see you grow into the woman that you are by the time you are reading this, but may you bloom into the sorcerer that you dream to be” - Your mother.

ꕥ

“GOJO! GOJO!”

Slowly, from the loud shouting that was going on, you began to groan in annoyance while opening your eyes to find Itadori and Kugisaki kneeling in front of you with panicked expressions residing in their faces before steadily turning into relief once they noticed that you were smiling at them.

“Good job,” you whispered to them before resting your head back on the tree you were leaning on causing them to smile brightly back at you before high-fiving each other as they shouted on how relief they were as they already had a fright when they discovered Fushiguro laying on their ground before trying to find you.

“Did you collect the finger?” you questioned your classmates leading them to all freeze in a panic since they didn’t expect you to know about the issue with the special curse that was lingering within the domain that you were all previously in. As a matter of fact, you had already sensed it a few moments ago as well those three years back when you were in middle school.

“Ah...about that...Itadori ate it…” Fushiguro muttered in embarrassment, causing you to look at him with a blank stare before turning your head towards Itadori, who was now looking at you with a ‘trying to be innocent’ expression on his face as he scratched his cheek with his index finger.

“Sorry, Gojo...It was an accident,” Itadori stuttered in a light tone, while you continued to give him the blank expression before hitting his head with the handle of your katana causing him to hold the area while wincing in pain as you began to stand up on your feet.

“HEY! YOU FOUR!”

Due to the sudden shouting, everyone head’s to shot up to find Nitta screaming at you and your classmates from above while waving her fist in such an erratic way, trying to emphasise her anger to all of you at this current moment in time.

“What have you four been doing? You wouldn’t answer my calls!” Nitta yelled, causing her voice to echo throughout the entire area causing you to wonder if anyone had turned on their lights due to the loud interruptions from their sleep.

“Oh, Nitta-san,” Itadori called out in surprise as he stared up at the irritated woman.

“She’s lost it,” Kugisaki mentioned, as she too was observing the shouting fit that all four of you were enduring right now.

“Well, shall we go home?” Itadori asked as he turned around to face you, leading the other two first-years to turn to look at you as well causing your eyebrows to raise up

‘Ah...I guess I did think about running away for a second....’

“Yeah, let’s go home,” you answered back before beginning to walk forward leaving Itadori and Kugisaki to talk about having Spendud Sushi as dinner while Nitta was continuing to yell at all four of you from above.

“I know as time passes, the more the Earth will push its fangs upon your shoulder and it’s completely my fault and I deeply apologise from the bottom of my heart. I knew the day that I was blessed with you that I desired nothing more than to give you the easiest route away from all the troubles the Zenin clan had put on us, away from the Jujutsu world and away from the loneliness that you will come face to face once I and your father are gone. I adore you with all my heart and want nothing more than your heart to be blessed with trust, happiness and comfort. Wherever you are, just know that I will always look after you, no matter how long I have to wait, I will always be the mother that I wished I could be for you” - Your mother.

ꕥ

“Why did you leave?”

Turning your head to the side, you found Fushiguro standing on the wooden terrace that you were sitting on with a stern look on his face while you just blinked at him before turning your head to face the garden with a book laying upon your lap as you tried a way to figure out how to bring up the topic that you tried to avoid since coming into acquaintance with the shikigami sorcerer.

“What do you mean?” you asked before closing the book in such a gentle manner, worried that you could damage more than it already was - even if it was such in a good condition after enduring itself for 1000 years.

“Why did you leave? Why did you erase my memory? Why did you go?” Fushiguro queried once again, as he decided to take a seat next to you causing anyone who would see both of you and Fushiguro to notice the contrast in your outfits. At this current moment in time, you were wearing a simple yukata due to being at Gojo’s estate - it was common/courtesy to wear traditional clothing - while Fushiguo was wearing a white jumper with what seemed to be black joggers along with some trainers causing you to come to the assumption that he had either can to talk to you or train with Gojo again like he did last time.

“I’m sorry Fushiguro...but I had to do it,” you answered before grabbing the cup of tea that was sitting right beside you as you then took a sip of the warm drink leading some of your nerves to calm down as you also took a deep breath.

“Why didn’t you stay?” Fushiguro questioned again in a low tone while staring down at the ground trying to compose himself as more memories of you began to steadily flow in.

“It was too risky,” you answered again as you continued to stare at the garden that was blooming in front of you before turning your head to look at your classmate, who seemed to be in deep thought about the response you had just given him.

“I never got to repay you back from the kindness you had given me,” Fushiguro mentioned as he turned his head up to look at you, only to make eye contact leading the memories of your technique to come into his mind.

“I don’t need a repayment, I just did what I wanted to help you,” you replied back as you placed your cup down onto the wooden tray before laying your upper body down on the terrace while your legs were handing off to the side causing your hair to splay across the wooden platform the both of you were sitting on right now.

“But you don’t like helping people,” Fushiguro quickly mentioned as he turned his head to face you, causing your eyes to move from the sky above you to the boy that was now looking at you with a somewhat small smile planted upon his face causing you to remember the conversation that you had with him and Kugisaki about not telling Itadori the reason why numerous amount of cursed fingers that have been popping up recently - making you come to the realisation that he was technically asking you and Kugisaki to help him keep the guilt away from the vessel of Sukuna himself.

“Yeah...I don’t like helping people,” you answered with the same smile as he was presenting you, causing a light giggle to arise from the both of you.

‘I’ll recommend them for a promotion later...’

“Whoever you fall for the sky for, my dear. I wish you nothing but the world’s blessing to fall upon the two of you. May all the flowers that come to bloom will bring you grace and tenderness that you deserve, the same feelings that I wish I could provide to you as a mother like how the sun gives you its warmth” - Your mother.

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smoochkooks · 3 years

Text

—christmas cream(pie) ; (m.)

⟶ pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

⟶ genre: established relationship, smut, fluff

⟶ word count: 3.6k

⟶ summary: a day before christmas dinner with your boyfriend's parents, you discover another alternative way to use the chocolate cream you’re making. jungkook is more than willing to indulge in your little fantasy.

⟶ warnings: explicit sexual content, food play, finger-sucking, spit kink, dirty talk, oral (f) receiving, slight choking but nothing too extreme, unprotected sex, creampie, jungkook being the sweetest boyfriend on the earth and your emotional support, tooth-rooting domestic fluff:(

a/n: hi!! this is my little christmas present for you. hope you enjoy what my brain came up with yesterday<3 ps. i also dont know what kind of fic title this is.

Christmas secure a top spot on your own self-made list of holidays. You enjoy practically every aspect of it. The food, decorating your house, songs, movies, the whole magical aura of warmth and love – you name it.

But this year though, you're fiddled with anxiety because it's the first time you're going to celebrate with your boyfriend Jungkook and his parents.

You've been dating for two lovely years, living in a shared apartment for almost six months but somehow you've never spent any major holiday together. Until now, it actually felt like a step bigger than moving in. Choosing to be with your families and celebrate separately was never an issue for both of you.

And foolishly, you thought this year would be no like the other, that you'll kiss your sweet boyfriend goodbye before Christmas Eve and reunite after the whole shenanigans would end. But to your surprise, Jungkook had different plans for you.

“Y-your parents did what?”

“They invited us for a Christmas dinner.” he repeated calmy, completely unfazed by the pure shock marring your features.

He was sprawled on the couch, hair messy and falling onto his forehead because he had been avoiding barbershops lately (it wasn’t like you minded it–if anything, it made him look even sexier). He was wearing your favorite pair of sweats that had a soy sauce stain on the left knee and a simple black t-shirt, yet for you he looked like an angel sent from the above and devil reincarnated at the same time. So deliciously domestic and soft it almost made you wanna jump him right here and there, if it wasn't for the more nagging matters that you had yet to discuss with him.

“But,” you stuttered, brain too consumed by nerves to help you formulate coherent sentences. “I was visiting your parents in Busan over summer.”

“Yeah, but it's been a while and they really want to see you again,” he said, raising from his spot. He came up to you, his tall, lean body towering over your form. The moment you saw his sparkly doe eyes boring holes into yours, you knew you were approximately twenty seconds from giving in. “Pretty please.” he tried again, palms cupping your flushed cheeks until you had no choice but to agree.

“Okay.”

Jungkook grinned in response and leaned to press a chaste kiss onto your lips. “Love you, baby.” He tasted like spicy noodles and soda but you ignored it, mustering a small smile.

“Love you too.” you said, always meaning those three little words because truly, you could never resist Jeon Jungkook and his charms. He had you wrapped around his finger more than you'd ever admit and you'd simply do anything to make him happy, even if that meant stressing over a Christmas dinner with his parents.

“They really like you, ___. You have nothing to worry about.” Jungkook murmured upon kissing your nose, and then forehead. “My mom is already so excited to see you. She said she would make an apple pie because you once mentioned you liked it.”

You leaned into his touch, slightly less angry you had been surprised with a revelation like that but at the same time still apprehensive and filled with nerves. “You aren't making this easier, you know?” you asked.

Jungkook sent you an apologetic smile. “You're amazing, baby. You don't need to convince my parents again that you're the right person for me,” he said, hands finding purchase on your waist and pulling you closer to him. “All you have to do is smile and compliment my mom's cooking skills. And maybe ask dad about fishing. You know he's been crazy about it lately.”

Easier said than done, you thought to yourself. Jungkook was a natural when it came to bewitching people. Your parents adored him because he knew all the right words to make them fall for his charms. He didn’t have to try hard or pretend to be someone else in order to be accepted as their daughter’s partner.

You, on the other hand, were on a different side of the spectrum. No matter how many times Jungkook reassured you of your worth, you still had a lot of insecurities to deal with. That was just who you were as a person. Maybe it was why you clicked so well together. You needed someone to be your second Sun.

“You got his.” With a final kiss onto the crown of your head, Jungkook left you standing in the middle of the living room, and all you could think about was a fricking apple pie and finding new ways to impress your boyfriend's parents.

Hence way you're currently in the kitchen, blender in your right hand as you mix the ingredients for the most extra chocolate cake you've ever made, determination written all over your features like you’re competing in the final Bake Off episode.

And why is that? Because your brain couldn't let you sleep peacefully at night if you didn't decide to bake your own cake for Jungkook's mother. It started innocently, slowly getting information out of your boyfriend about his parents' favorite food. Of course, you had to be clever about it, so he wouldn't suspect anything too early into the game. That's why after asking a round of rather specific questions you lured him into a blowjob because you know he usually loses his goddman mind after a good dick sucking.

Content with your plan, you're now a day before the Christmas dinner, Jungkook's mother's beloved cake almost ready to be put into the oven.

“Babe, I'm home!” you hear Jungkook calling from the corridor. You sent him to do some (un)necessary grocery shopping so you could have a time for yourself to prepare the cake without him looking over your shoulder and analyzing your every move. You really hate when people do that because you’re more likely to screw something when you’re being watched.

“Let me taste it then,” he says, grabby hands reaching for the bowl but you quickly swat them away.

“I'm here!” you shout back, unplugging the blender once you're satisfied with your chocolate cream.

“What is the smell?” Jungkook asks, entering the kitchen. “Oh,” he quips, placing grocery bags on the floor. “You made this?”

“Mhmm,” you hum, dipping a finger into the bowl and then putting it into your mouth. It tastes good, not too sweet but at the same time it still has a strong chocolate flavor. Perfect.

“Wash your hands first.”

“Wait,” You can almost hear the gears shifting in his brain. His grip on your waist tightens as you desperately try to stifle the laugh babbling in your throat. “This is my mom's favorite cake.”

Jungkook dramatically salutes you, even though you see him smirking under his breath. Once his hands are all clean and dry, you feel his arms encircling your body from the back. “Is this for me?” he murmurs, obviously referring to the cake.

“Nope. It's for tomorrow's Christmas dinner.”

That’s why you break into a smile, pulling him for a quick peck. “You can taste my cream now.” you say.

“Great observation.”

“And you said you were making it for the Christmas dinner,” Jungkook continues, “Which means you did this purposely.” he finishes, twirling your body so you're now facing him.

“You said she would make me an apple pie so I thought I could reciprocate the kindness and do the same,” An innocent smile tugs at your lips. “Besides, the more food the better.”

Jungkook snorts. “So here's why you were asking me all those weird questions lately.”

Your eyes widen. “You paid attention to that?”

“Babe, I might be a simple man who enjoys seeing his girlfriend sucking his dick but it doesn't mean I don't listen to you,” he says, sounding slightly offended but you know that deep down he's amused by the whole situation. “You didn't have to do that, you know?”

You let out a long sigh. “I know but... I just felt so weird. Your parents are so happy to see us, they are doing all those preparations and I couldn't stop thinking about doing something to impress them in return,” you murmur. “So they wouldn't think it preparing a whole celebratory dinner for their son and his girlfriend was actually pointless.” you add in a smaller voice, dropping your head down. 

“Baby,” Jungkook coos, fingers grasping your chin so you could look him in the eye again. “You're an amazing person. My parents know that too. You don't have to prove them your worth. Ever.”

His words make you relax visibly. You don’t know what you would do if you didn’t have Jungkook by your side. He’s just being himself, showing you his extremely caring side as he usually does when you feel down but somehow you’re more thankful for this now.

You dip your index finger into the cream. Then, making sure his eyes are trained on your face, you bring your finger up and envelop with your lips, purposely sucking on it obscenely. “Mmm,” you nothing but moan. “It’s really good.”

“That sounded awfully sexual.”

“No, it did not! You're just perverted.”

“But you love me anyway, don't you?”

You snort at his stupid remark. Suddenly, a not-so-innocent idea pops in your mind and you wonder who’s actually the one with more inappropriate thoughts running through their head. Jungkook might enjoy teasing you on daily basis, but a girl can have her fun too, right?

Jungkook's eyes darken seeing your little stunt you’ve decided to pull today. He bites the inside of his cheek, before saying,”’I know what game you’re playing.”

“I’m not doing anything.” you respond, feigning innocence. Before you can dive for more cream, Jungkook grabs your wrist and stops you.

Bingo.

When he takes his two fingers and plunges them into the cream, you know exactly what’s coming next, the adrenaline and excitement pumping through your veins. He brings his fingers up towards your face and you have to fight an urge to stay still, waiting for his instructions like the good girl you obviously are. “Open up, baby.”

You oblige immediately, mouth falling open and tongue out. He pushes his fingers inside, sweet, chocolate cream filling your taste buds. “Suck.” he says simply, eyes fixated on your lips. You do it without a second thought, swirling your tongue around his digits and making sure to lick every last drop of the substance.

When he decides he can't take it anymore, he pulls his fingers out of your mouth and before you can even blink, he crashes his lips onto yours; fast, messy and unforgiving, thrusting his tongue inside to play with yours. His motives are clear: you aren’t leaving the kitchen without getting properly fucked.

“So sweet,” he murmurs against your lips, the hand around your waist pulling you flush against him. “My cute girlfriend thought she could tease me and get away with it.”

He bites onto your lower lip as to prove his point and you whimper. “It’s not like that,” you manage to say, grinding yourself against the evident bulge in his pants. “I didn’t expect to get away with it.”

Jungkook's hands travel to the backs of your thighs and he lifts you up effortlessly, placing you on the counter. You’re sure there are traces of flour still on it but you couldn’t care less right now, not when a pair of hands roughly nudges your legs apart so he could stand in between them.

“So you did it purposely,” Jungkook leaves your mouth in favor of tracing kisses down your neck. Careful not to marry your skin with hickeys because you would beat the shit out of him if he did bruise your neck a day before the dinner with his parents. “Naughty girl.” He punctuates his statement with a bite to your earlobe, his next words being whispered directly into your ear. “What should I do with you, then?”

You whimper, your thighs pressing together just hearing the tone of his voice. You lace your fingers through the locks at the back of his hair and place a kiss against his lips. “Fuck me?” you ask in a saccharine-sweet tone.

He chuckles in response, fingers grasping your t-shirt and pulling it off you, revealing your bare chest to his hungry eyes. He wastes no time and latches his mouth onto a nipple but as soon as his tongue meets your hardened bud, he retreats. Confused, you watch as he reaches for the bowl once again and dips his fingers into the cream. He then smears it all over your nipples, a proud smirk caught on his lips when he leans back to admire his art work.

“Kook,” you mewl, too pathetically for your liking and you know how much it’ll stroke his ego. “Please, touch me.” you plea, one of your hands reaching to pull him closer to you.

“Yeah?” His chuckle is almost sinister. “Look at you, all dirty and begging me so nicely. Not that smart with your mouth now, are you?”

All you manage is a nod and meek “Please,” that quickly morphs into a drawn out moan when he finally dips his head to suck your nipple into his hot mouth. You never could have guessed that the idea of food play would be so arousing to you but here you are, pussy clenching around nothing when your sweet boyfriend licks chocolate cream off your boobs.

When he’s done and satisfied with the result, he grabs your sweatpants and pulls them down along with your underwear in one go, your bare ass meeting with the cold marble of your kitchen counter. Jungkook wastes no time and spreads your legs apart, not giving you a second to shy away from his burning gaze before he dives in to lick a stripe up your slit.

You cry out in pleasure when his tongue finds your clit and gives it a sharp suck, his hands grabbing your ankles and bending your knees so he could have a full access to your glistening core. You’re absolutely drenched, dripping down your thighs and making a mess on Jungkook's face but he doesn’t mind it a bit, eating you out like a champ you know he is.

“So wet,” he rasps against your cunt. “Messy girl.”

To make matters worse (or better) he takes his sweet time and lets a glob of his spit mix with your arousal because Jungkook, much like you, enjoys giving a head more than anything in the world and makes it his priority to see you lose it on his tongue. You’re positive you will come like this if he keeps continuing abusing your clit just right. He knows your pussy like the back of his hand. Knows what makes you keen, how to make you eyes roll to the back of your head. It fuels his ego to see you like this; helpless and utterly devoted to the pleasure and you don’t even mind when he brags about it later. How could you if you benefit so much from it?

Suddenly, he grunts into your cunt and your brows furrow because it’s not the sound you’re used to hearing during sex. You look down to check what’s wrong but he’s already up and in level with your eyes, a sheepish smile adoring his features.

“Neck cramp,” he explains, his palm massaging the back of his neck. “Eating pussy is easier on the bed.” You can’t help but giggle, replacing his hand with yours and providing him a temporary relief. “I’m sorry. Were you close?” he asks.

There he is. Your sweet, caring boyfriend who never forgets to ask for consent before railing you into the mattress and always putting your pleasure before his own.

“Mhmm,” you hum, grasping his t-shirt and lifting it off his body. It should be considered a sin to look like this, you think to yourself. “But I want to come on your cock instead.”

Jungkook grins, quickly pulling down his pants and underwear. His cock slaps against his stomach, pride swelling in your chest because you know you can make him this hard without your touch. “How do you want it?” he asks, guaranteeing himself a moment of relief when he gives his cock a few pumps, spreading precum all over his length.

“Like that,” you answer, gesturing at your current position on the counter. “Wanna see you.”

“Anything for my pretty girl.”

If you weren't already red, you would have blushed at his cute words. The sentiment doesn’t last long though, your face twisting in ecstasy when he lines himself up with your entrance and starts pushing inside, the stretch deliciously burning. “Oh my god, Kook,” you whimper, hand clutching onto his biceps for support. “So big. You feel so good.” He groans, slithering himself deeper. His forehead rests onto yours, few ragged breaths before you murmur, “You can move.”

He sets a punishing pace from the beginning, fucking you hard and fast; wet, slapping noises filling the kitchen. You’re a blubbering mess, moaning incoherently as he splits your pussy open, thrust after thrust. “Yeah, fucking take it,” Jungkook rasps, grabbing your hips even harder, no doubt leaving there marks. “Cream my cock like a good girl.”

You mewl in response, your eyes focusing on his parted lips. “J-jungkook,” you stutter, head completely deprived of rational thoughts. “Spit in my mouth.” It’s almost a breathless plea on your tongue.

He curses, his right hand squeezing your cheeks. “Open.” You do it right away, nearly moaning when he purses his lips and spits, eyes almost bulging out of his head when he sees you swallow it greedily. “Dirty fucking girl.” he growls.

“B-but you love it, right?” you whimper, eyes glossy because he's hitting that spot inside your pussy that makes your toes curl. “L-love when I’m like this just for you.”

“Fuck, yeah I do,” Jungkook says, placing his hand around your throat. He doesn’t apply pressure and simply rests it there, urging you to look directly at him. “I love when my pretty baby becomes a dirty slut for me.” He punctuates his words with a harsh buck of his hips that makes you cry out.

You can't take it anymore. “K-kook,” you whine, grabbing his wrist and urging him to squeeze your throat. “I love you.”

Despite his hand around your neck and cock abusing your cunt, he breaks into a smile. He leans down to kiss you on your putty lips. You try to keep up with him but there’s no use for that, so you just open your mouth and let him slither his tongue inside. When he pulls away, your lips are wet with saliva. Messy, but you wouldn’t exchange it for anything less. “Love you too, baby.” he groans in a strained voice, dragging his cock fast through your walls.

As if reading your mind, his thumb reaches to rub fast circles on your clit. “’m so close,” you mumble, thighs shaking.

“C'mon, pretty. Wanna see you come around me.” Jungkook murmurs, gone is his dominant aura, it’s now only his gentle voice coaxing you into an earth-shattering orgasm.

When you come down from your high, you’re swatting his fingers away from your core. Normally you would probably indulge into it more, but oversensitivity seems to be too much to handle for you today. Jungkook thrusts his hips a few more times and follows right after you, groaning your name and spilling himself inside.

“That was nice.” he comments breathlessly and you can’t help but chuckle, widing your arms around his neck and pulling him for a well-deserved kiss.

“I’m too tired to move my legs and somebody needs to finish the cake,” you pout, not an ounce of exaggeration in your statement because that’s utterly true–you’re always too spent after a round of fucking with Jungkook to even go to the bathroom on your own. He gladly carries you there in his arms bridal-style every, single time.

“It's okay, sweetheart. I’ll do it.” he says, making you giggle under your breath triumphantly.

You might be willing to do everything for you boyfriend but if anything, you’re equal in that department.

“I’m also pretty sure there’s flour on my ass.”

Jungkook raises his brow at you. “That I’m not going to clean.”

“Fine. But next time I'm putting whipped cream on your dick.” you decide.

When he pulls out of you, his cum spills out of your hole but he's quick to catch the droplets and push them back inside you with his fingers. “You’re a little minx, you know that, right?” he says and then licks his digits clean.

“You love me anyway.” He grins, leaning to kiss you but he stops mid-way. “What is it?” you ask, raising your brows.

“Since I came inside you, we can call it a creampie, right?”

Still slightly dazed after sex, you’re not quick enough to realise what he implies before it’s too late. “I mean yes but–oh my god. No, no, no! Stop!”

“Cream-pie!”

“I hate you!”

“And I love you too.”

After all, you were worrying about the dinner too much, as always.

Everybody complimented your cake. Jungkook's mother was delighted. His father talked about fishing for almost an hour.

But your sweet boyfriend's smirking face as he ate the cake was telling you were in for a long night of sinning in your bed as soon as you went back home.

And he obviously didn’t disappoint.

#jungkook smut #btswritingcafe #btswriterscollective #btsbookclub #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet #smutcentralnet #bangtanhq

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rivendellsstuff · 3 years

Text

𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ━━━ 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈 𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍

𝐀𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 | ❝In despair, he condemns his desires. Regretted, he know the consequences would be eternal and all he wanted was you. Your fiery personality, bright lips and soft skin.❞

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2310;

Genre: friends to lovers;

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: Mentions of canon-typical violence. The first chapter is set before the events of the first season. Friends with benefits — so, it'll be eventual smut (like, a lot!)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: English isn't my natives language, so if you spot a misspelled word or anything else, feel free to let me know.

━━━━ 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑

Some men's whish the glory, others crawl like snakes by power and there is those who live like rats in the system. However, there is a exception — and his names is Levi Ackerman. Emerged from the underground, by dust and blood, forged as a weapon at an early age and steeped in pride, he raised as humanity's strongest soldier. He carries a doctrine, imbedded in his bones: he serves to humanity, the balance and the freedom of mankind. If there is a threat, he is the man who can fight against it, ranging from cruel people to evil titans.

He was born in cruel times and did his best to survive in the Underground. He found a glory he wasn't looking for. Something many wish to through their lives, but which, for him, was irrelevant. They all bleed, they all are stuck on the Walls and share the same ended chapter: the death. The final outcome is not defined by possessions, achievements or privileges in life. The only difference was that could get death any easier and painless. Levi was not a hypocrite: he would rather a peaceful death, lying on his bed, instead of being eaten by a titan.

He rather — and is all what it is. It wasn't like if he had any choice. The Ackerman's family were designed to protect the people and to fight. They were cursed with a power. Some people could say it is a miracle in dark times. Others would argue that mans were corrupted, cruel and too ambitious to deal with that awakened power. Well, Levi knows, that no everyone were worthy to possess such ability — Kenny, that asshole, was one of them.

However, there was kind strange situation. An only exception, an affliction that hung over through the heart and maddened his mind: you.

Desire wasn't a word enough to define how he feels close to you, a fearless female warrior, who destroy each barrier he has built over the years, causing delirium with the thought of you hurt. Levi knew he would have taken a checkmate just by desiring you.

But when it all starts? He couldn't say with sure. Maybe, when he, Farlan and Isabel were recruited by the Survey Corps, and you were the only one who spoke to them without undriveable mock and trial. You, besides Erwin, didn't seem to care where they came from. As deeply loyal as you were to your comrades, you didn't depend on your interactions with them for take a direction — you were content to follow your own passions and desires without input from anyone else.

Maybe it started when he saw you in battle or an a argue with a member of Military Police Regiment. Fear is not in yours's vocabulary when you are on the battlefield or when you are speaking her mind to others.

As their partnership grew, he'd find some similarities between you, but also many differences.

You, just like him, has little patience for any form of prose or riddles when you are communicating with others. You speak bluntly and without pretense, and expects others to do the same, prefers to get to the point and doesn’t seek to romanticize your expectations or intentions. You also are focused on the present issues and what role you can play in protecting the people that you love, what can prevent you from seeing the future results of your present actions and, unlike him, does result in some impulsive and risky — yet brave— actions.

All these little things over the years, made him fall in love with you, and Levi had ways to say it without saying "I love you".

Like that night.

He wasn't hiding his disgust face when handed you a cup full of that steaming, black liquid; the simply smelling coffee could make your stomach turn, but still, he prepares a cup for you every night.

As the second in the command, you have spent several evenings together conducting the next advances of the squadron. So, there you are, sitting next to him, eyes focused on the paper, turning the pen between your fingers and... biting your lower lip.

Occasionally, almost instinctively Levi raises his eyes to you. Being so close of you was it's a unique feeling. The smell of your perfume as stunning, and his throat closes around the words he would like to say. The tension that has been brought in was too dangerous for someone like him.

Fucking woman, fucking lips. Fuck you!

''Is there a problem?'', you inquired making eye contact for the first time that night. He couldn't say if there was perversion when you wet your own lips, but Levi felt his muscles become tense and contracted when you made it.

Levi responded with a faint whimper before observed: ''You shouldn't be drinking so much coffee at this time. You look like shit when don't get sleep''.

Lie. Fucking hell, you're always beautiful, but no way he'd say what he thought.

You rolled your eyes. ''It's you who did'', you put forth.

''I wasn't in the mood to put up with a brat attitude from you.''

''Brat? You know that we have about the same age, don't you?'', your gaze traveled from the figure sat in front of you to the window, confused as to why you would be embarrassed about his presence. You took in a breath before adding: ''Anyway, don't want sleep.''

There was a pause for a few seconds. You and he eyed each other.

''Why?'', he asks, authoritative one.

You shrugged and shook your head firmly. ''It doesn't matter.''

''If it doesn't matter, why would I have asked that?''

"Cause you're snooper”, you smirked.

''I'm not a snooper, brat."

He felt his heart begin to quicken when you carried the pen to your lips and start biting.

"Yes, you are a horrible snooper old man, bossy and with an astonishing mania for cleanliness."

"Old? You know we have about the same age”; he repeats. His eyes drifted back to your face, noticing your gaze had shifted again to the woods beyond the window. "And you're avoiding the question", he softly says (at least as softy as he could be), interrupting your rampant thoughts. "Are you alright?"

Levi watches in silence as you'd shoulders slump.

"I can't sleep. My mind has the scary capability of being evil, although I always thought that one day it'd get better", you're voice was low and flat, quiet and a little sad as you spoke to Levi, who seemed to know what are you exactly referred to and only nodded at your words. "I feel guilty. All the time."

Even in the darkness the room held, your eyes find his greys one like the starlight's.

''Are you afraid of your dreams, too?'', you asked, never expecting the humanity strongest soldier to have any fears.

'Yes'', he said quietly.

You nodded with hesitation, his words repainting in your head as you struggled to forma a sentence to answered.

Levi was used to such sadness, he had month's — no, years — to griever over the deaths of his mother and friends. Death was not uncommon thing in his life. His childhood who should be carefree, playing in the sun, was like a living nightmare, learning to fight in the darkness of Underground. Later, when he left the place to join the Survey Corps, he accepted to live in that never ending tragedy that people had sadly grown used to. Death was more common in that job than anything else, and he knows how badly it fuck with his mind.

“I’m beginning to think we’re a lot alike… you and me. We’re both strange cast, who’ve learned to fight when we’re backed into a corner'', you began weakly.

''Well, we’re backed into a corner now. Two fucking insomniacs”, he shook his head, thinking about your words. He didn't seem to like the way your voice sounded sadder. You raised your eyes to him again as he slowly spoke: ''You're not alone''

You answered a tiny smile onto your lips. Levi felt his cheeks burn and opposite glanced to your empty coffee cup, thinking that he'll able to always tolerate your strange addiction.

A few second later you both went back to work, and Levi was left with words stuck, temptation planted in the mind and a sure thing for him: the insomniac nights would become better by you.

【 ━━ 】

Inside Wall Sheena, guests were arriving, among them five members of the Scout Regiment - consisting mostly of commanders - walked through the gates, exuding self-confidence, bitter to participate in that boring and stupid meeting.

Little lies, little social sacrifices to feed what kept the Scout Regiment going: funding.

It was not necessary to be an expert in politics to see beyond the traditional veil of those events, to perceive the intentions of certain parliamentarians, very sadistic. Knowing it was part of your job to relate to these kinds of people annoyed you.

For one minute, you saw out of the corner of your eyes, the first on your command. The man of grey eyes used a black suit that fits perfectly. Be present in an event with so many politics didn't seem to his liking. Was kind of hard for all of you play nice one with all this tension in the air.

You've never felt the feeling of fear and tension like that inside the Walls before.

''Stop frowning before you break your face''

'It would be so sad, and you would cry for being depriving of that beautiful face''

''Oh, fuck yourself'', he says, angrily.

''If you watch''

You smirched at his expression as he looks up to you, after seeing your face, he turns away.

''Watch your words, brat''

''Or what, old man? What will you do to me?''

He looks back up at you.

''I could break you habit of drinking coffee, put you to clean all the HQ or even to help Hange with the experiments. The three together seems good, by the way''

You roll your eyes.

''You're mean''

'You're annoying'', he replied. ''And you know, if you keep rolling your eyes one day their going to get stuck like that''

''Are you trying to be funny?''

His little grin showed up making you roll eyes into a smile. He was terribly bossy and annoying, but you like that about him.

You took the glass of wine to your lips and raised your eyes to hit his. Levi hovered over you, making you felt that flame into your heart once more. Your eyes tailed down to Levi's lips then back to his eyes. You could feel your heart beating recklessly.

Fucking grey eyes, fucking black suit. Fuck you!

You felt a thumb on your cheeks, making them burn.

''You look...'', he started whispered and slightly caress your cheeks. Your body started to get hot under his soft touch. ''... beautiful. You look beautiful''

You were speechless.

You liked the sudden ardor, of the dangerous attraction, of folly and frivolous with provocative sins. Liked and thought how the taste of his lips would be: the indomitable, the irresistible, the powerful and sin.

He slowly dragged his hand down to my thorax wrapping his hands around it. A soft gasp escaped of your lips.

''You know... If you want dance, it'll not rude to ask'', you try to say. ''The song is awful, but I'm not a demanding partner''

''Only if you don’t step on my foot''

His prepotency make you smile.

''Don’t be a bad partner and there will be no mistakes'', you retorted, making him raised one of the eyebrows. ''That's how a men should behave next to a woman''

He took you in his arms, abruptly, making the bodies collide with intensity. You gasped, very close to Levi's ears, who felt the hairs stand on the back of his neck. Leading you through music, in no second was the look averted, in a battle for unknown control.

You and Levi explored a unique experience.

He stares burned deep into your body. His touch on your skin made your body tingle.

Fuck, control yourself. Don't get turned on by him!

He didn't say anything, just left you hold into him. You could feel your body burning around him. What was he doing to you? It felt like a spell. The effect of sin, of desire. You should get rid of that, all you needed least were distractions in the workplace and ruin the friendship, trust and partnership that you two took so long to build.

However, both keep looking to each other longer than friends should. Longer than friends should...

He could saw you lost inside your mind. Slowly, he pulled down his fingers, lazily touching the skin of your exposed back by the dress. Levi's vision was blinded by the desire his image represented. The surroundings smelled wine and fruits, intoxicating his sense. The ears, doomed to hear the political bullshit. His tact could burn by touching you. His taste? It was dangerous, because wanted to discover the taste of your lips and body.

But not now, not here.

You are his friend — the only who was left. In despair, he condemns his desires. Regretted, he knew the consequences would be eternal and all he wanted was you. Your fiery personality, bright lips and soft skin.

To hell all of that. When you both got back, he'll fucked you, every way that he can thinking off. He wants to pound into you, slammed into you and give the best night that you ever have. He wants to kiss every inch of your skin.

''Good girl'', he whispers next to your ears. ''But I'll show you how true men should behave next to a woman when we get back''

#aot x reader #attack on titan imagine #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman imagine #levi x you #levi smut #levi ackerman series #attack on titan fanfiction

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xaharadesert · 3 years

Text

Immortal MC & Reincarnated LI - Headcanon Pt 2

Arcana Characters (Muriel, Asra, Nadia) x MC

A/N: Part 2 for the lovely @firefly-child! See part 1 for details, it should be the post just before this one! I swear I’ll learn how to make a master post one day :) Nadia’s part turned a bit more introspective than romantic, but honestly, it felt more interesting than simply repeating the same few points about eternal love that I used previously, so I hope you don’t mind!Thank you to everyone who reblogged and left comments on the last post, you’ve all really motivated me! And thank you to everyone who has sent in requests recently, that’s definitely a big boost to my confidence! Please let me know if there are any spelling or grammatical mistakes :) requests are open!

TW: mentions of death

💚Muriel💚

You would have to wait for Muriel to settle comfortably into your relationship before telling him about your immortality, but believe me, it would be worth the wait

At this point, he genuinely trusts you, and knows you wouldn’t lie to him (beyond a couple minutes where he thinks you might be trying to prank him)

He’s not entirely certain how to respond to the revelation and situation as a whole, so he simply… accepts it

Although he doesn’t really ask many questions about it, please don’t assume that he’s not interested

He is— but since you waited so long to tell him, he assumes it may be a sensitive topic, and wants to wait for you to open up at your own pace

His favourite tales from your past are the more mundane ones— he likes to hear about different creatures you’ve met, and places you’ve traveled to that no longer exist

But, to be perfectly honest, he would listen to you talk about almost anything if it made you happy

If you try to subtly hint about his past lives, it’ll go completely over his head

He’ll assume they were simply past lovers, unrelated to each other or himself, cherished, but long gone

So when or if you decide to reveal the nature of his own existence to him, he would be even more surprised than when you initially announced you were immortal

But once again, this ultimately leads to acceptance

A part of him is glad that he can be reincarnated by your side in an endless cycle, even if he can’t remember it

It means that the two of you were meant to be together, and that you would support each other come what may

He won’t ask about himself, and frankly, he doesn’t really want to know

Muriel doesn’t feel the need to compare his current self to his past selves, partially because he doesn’t want to feel as though he’s falling short

He still has days where he feels ostracized, like he doesn’t quite fit in with the life he believes you deserve, and the idealistic implication that comes with reincarnation is one he’d rather not taint

💙Asra💙

Shockingly, he wouldn’t believe you right away

You might think that due to his own connections to magic, he would be one of the first people to accept that you’re telling the truth

But he’s never encountered an immortal on the same plane of existence he lives his everyday life on (and the fact that you had died before did nothing to help)

However, his heart tells him that you’re telling the truth, and he already knows you would never lie to him about something so enormous, so, try as he might, he will eventually believe you

Once he comes to terms with it, he thinks it’s amazing— or more specifically, that you’re amazing

He loves to hear you talk about the past; adventures you’ve had, people you’ve met, places you’ve been, and especially magic you’ve learned

Magic is an ever-evolving concept, and although your old knowledge might not apply to the present, he stills enjoys learning about how it evolved (and it doesn’t hurt that your eyes light up whenever you divulge what you believe to be a particularly interesting fact)

Occasionally you mention a significant other from your past, and his heart seems to tug at him with a feeling he can’t quite place

Jealousy? Longing? … Familiarity?

One thing that genuinely bothers Asra is the fact that one day he’ll grow old, and pass on, and you’ll still exist, alone

So when you reveal to him that he’s been by your side almost as long as you’ve been alive, he’s thrilled

He has no issue accepting that he’s a reincarnation of your past lover, simply happy to know that the two of you are genuinely intertwined on a level that can never be touched by death

Asra rests easier at night knowing that nothing could ever truly separate the two of you, even if he was to die

A small, morbid part of his brain questions if his heart will return to him whole in his next life, or if you will continue to share it— and more importantly, how many more times could he split it in half if you were to be the one to pass away again?

For the most part, he doesn’t think about the possibility that you might be the one to die, but the though does occasionally come to him in the dead of night

And now, knowing that the two of you are so integral to each other that you would find him no matter what life he lived, he is fully aware that he would go to horrendous lengths to keep death from pulling you away

But of course, he tries to focus more on the relief he feels that he’ll never have to leave you, and you’ll always find a way back to him

💜Nadia💜

She doesn’t doubt you, even for a moment

You know infinitely more about magic than she does, and she trusts that you wouldn’t lie to her about something so important

With that being said, by announcing your immortality to her, you’ve just opened the floodgates to infinite questions

She wants to know everything about the past, no matter how mundane you may believe it to be

Nadia is a firm believer in the idea that history repeats itself, and she wants to learn from the past so she can help Vesuvia grow into a better future

She’s quick to make connections that even you may have never thought to make, and is clearly pleased with her own ingenuity (as she should be, she’s amazing)

She seems to be enthralled with even the most basic of knowledge you can provide about past civilizations, and makes a point to take as many detailed notes as possible

Questions about even the smallest details are a constant, so best of luck to you if your memory isn’t perfect

She tries to keep quiet if you seem to be particularly emotional about a certain tale, but sometimes she can’t help but ask for clarifications

You might need to gently remind her that you’re her lover, not a specimen

Setting boundaries about these questions is probably a wise choice

Nadia offers you a more official position as an advisor to make up for her work life bleeding into your down time together

It’s fine if you decline, though— the two of you can work out a certain time every day or two for her to ask whatever questions pool in her mind

When you finally reveal to her that she was alive during most of these past events as well, her initial response is frustration

She’s very much annoyed that she can’t remember her past lives, and wishes she could draw on past experiences to better herself in the present

Overall, her questions remain focused on general life and governments of the past, and she rarely asks questions about her past selves

She feels no need to hear about her old exploits, unless they contain something that you feel could be important to her now

Although she never feels the need to compare herself to her past, she does wonder if some part of her lives accumulated into what she currently was

And if that were true, what would she be like in the future?

In love with you, no doubt, as there was no way she could see herself alone, but would she continue to be good?

Would she always be someone in a position of power? Or would she step away from it in her next life, in exchange for more time with you?

To some degree, it soothes her to know that no matter what she does in her lifetime, she can make up for it in the next

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bubble-tea-bunny · 3 years

Text

dive into you

[bennett x reader]

author’s note: lil fic for bestest boy benny inspired by the song by nct dream and the summer season :’)

word count: 3,600

There’s a bakery opposite of Angel’s Share, just across the cobblestone road, and every morning the smell of freshly baked bread wafts from its open double doors, ready to welcome patrons and the crisp air of the early hours. Bennett has easily fallen into the routine of making this his first stop of the day. When he wakes, eyes slow to open and greeted by little squares of light on the ceiling of his bedroom from the sunlight shining through the window, he swears he can already smell that bread and the pastries and the care put into each one. He doesn’t often find it in him to be lazy, to be sluggish this early, for a new day was a new promise of adventure, and whether he’s swept along by the wind to the wilds or to the bakery, it’s an adventure all the same.

He always picks out food for his dads. He considers carefully what they might like to have (some prefer to have the same each time, others don’t mind the variety and like to be surprised), and carefully, slowly he fills the tray. Usually it isn’t busy during the time he’s there, but he doesn’t want to take risks as he holds it securely with both hands whenever he’s perusing the selection. Even if there were no people to bump into, with his luck, he might bump into one of the displays in the middle of the shop instead, consequence of paying more attention to the shelves against the wall where there are loaves baked into fun shapes like fish or crabs, rather than to what’s in front of him. He’d hate to drop everything on his tray and waste it.

Sometimes the bakery keeps the doors closed, and while uncommon, it’s nothing unusual. On these occasions, the entry of each customer is announced by the small bell jingling just overhead. It’s the only sound in the shop, ringing several times in the past ten minutes but it’s mere background noise, easily ignored, as Bennett absorbs himself in choosing what to buy today.

��Good morning!”

Bennett’s hand freezes just above a loaf of bread that looks like a bear and he glances behind him to the counter because the sound of your bubbly voice, conversely, is much more difficult to ignore. Though to be fair, to him, you’re no mere background noise.

You’re carrying a basket of more loaves just taken from the oven, half of them regularly shaped into circles and the other half like turtles, and grin at the customers who have just walked in. He watches you make your way over to a shelf several feet away from him to arrange the bread, and he stares long enough that you’ve taken notice. Your smile is bright and reaches your eyes, and he’s embarrassed to have been caught. His cheeks grow warm and you can probably see the dusting of red across his face, a speculation which doesn’t help alleviate this embarrassment one bit.

“Good morning, Bennett,” you greet him, more quietly since he’s closer.

He likes when you say his name, and it never fails to make his heart skip a beat and he stutters out an O-Oh, um… as if surprised that you’re talking to him, much less that you know who he is. It shouldn’t take him off guard that you know, considering how often he comes to the bakery, so he supposes it has more to do with the fact that he can’t believe his name should be spoken by a voice as gentle as yours, honeyed tones like the softly plucked notes of the Holy Lyre der Himmel.

Finally he musters an equally quiet Good morning in response, smiling back but he’s certain it looks more like a cringe, owed to his nerves. If it does, you don’t point it out, and simply return to your task. Only when another patron comes up to Bennett’s other side, muttering a pardon as they grab a loaf from the shelf he’s standing in front of, does he break his gaze from you. His hand that had been hovering above the bread that whole time he drops back down to his side, and he scoots to make room with another stutter and a sorry.

You’re back behind the counter when Bennett is ready to pay. The pile of bread, cake slices, sandwiches, and other miscellaneous pastries had in the past led you to ask him if these were snacks for the road, for you’d guessed him to be an adventurer doing commissions for the guild by the sword at his side. He’d chuckled and explained his actual purpose for buying as much as he did, and your grin had widened, and if he wasn’t imagining things, you’d been extra careful when packing every treat.

I’m sure they’ll really appreciate your gesture, you’d said. That’s sweet of you. And it’s not frequently that events in the course of his life run smoothly, but that day they had, and with no falter in his words he remarks it’s thanks to you, for you’re the reason there’s anything to bring back to his dads in the first place. You’d laughed and his chest tightened and he thinks that’s the point where he started to fall (to where, he hesitated to state exactly). But in any case, it was true—without you, there was no bakery filled to the brim with delicious food, and if he had anything to say about that, Mondstadt would be worse off for it.

This morning, Bennett is digging around his wallet for the appropriate amount of Mora while you pack what he’d picked out. Having gone through this process many times prior, he knows approximately how much it should cost.

“Ah—”

A few coins slip from his hand and clatter to the wooden floor, and he bends to pick them up. But on the way down, his head knocks into the tray that he neglected to push all the way onto the countertop, so part of it still stuck out. You blink in surprise at the jostling of the tray and his subsequent Ouch!, muffled because he’s obscured by the counter.

“Are you okay?” You sound genuinely worried, but to Bennett the accident had been no big deal. At least none of the food had fallen.

“Yeah,” he assures you. He’s still trying to gather up the stray Mora, fingers failing to get a proper grip on them and he huffs in slight exasperation. His face once more is burning from the embarrassment of being so clumsy. He’s clumsy around everyone, and it’s something he has long since come to accept, but it matters a lot more when it’s you.

Finally he stands back up, the money clutched in his fist victoriously. “Yeah!” he repeats now that you can hear him clearly. “It’s no big deal.”

For a second you don’t quite believe him, but it’s hard to argue with that smile on his face. There’s no pain he’s trying to hide (embarrassment, on the other hand, is a different issue entirely).

Upon handing him his package you tell him you’ll see him tomorrow and he feels sort of special because you don’t say it to anyone else. To others, you say Thank you, come again! but you know his routine and you know to expect him at the same time each morning. Judging by the look in your eyes and the sound of your voice when you see and greet him, you anticipate his visit every time, and his heart wants to soar out from the confines of his chest upon this realization and he is exhilarated. The wind and the new day have fulfilled their promise of an adventure, and the clock hasn’t even struck noon.

One day you’re a little distracted, focused on a paper in your hand as Bennett approaches the counter with his tray of baked goods. For the most part, your face gives nothing away, but then your brows furrow slightly, a subtle action he doesn’t miss, and he proceeds to ask if anything is wrong. He asks it kindly, keeps his tone neutral, wordlessly conveying that you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. He would hate to pry.

You purse your lips, pausing like you’re caught between saying yes and no. He waits patiently for whichever one it might be.

“I ran out of sugar and had been meaning to make more,” you start, opting to share with him what’s been troubling you.“I bought out Flora’s stock of sweet flowers but it wasn’t enough, so I may have to set aside time to pick more myself later.”

The mention of heading outside of the city makes Bennett perk up, for he never turns down a chance to go exploring. He’s about to offer to do it for you, but it’s the thought of possibly going with you instead that makes him hold back and rephrase his question.

“This afternoon?” he inquires, head tilting. You nod, and up until now he’d felt confident in the offer he was going to present, but then his nerves get the better of him and it doesn’t come out quite the way he was hoping. “I-I could go with you! You know, if you want! To protect you… Just in case…” He trails off and he wants to go hide in a hole. There are few other ways this could have gone worse.

You don’t answer right away, and he regrets having said anything at all, but your beautiful smile soon follows the silence and it sets his mind at ease, and you agree with a concise and cheery Sure! Well, at least the worst way this could have gone had not come to pass. It was the small victories for Bennett—just as important as the big ones. The next challenge would be to avoid making a fool of himself out there, in what should be his natural element; he does want to impress you. But that’s a big ask for someone like him…

Both of you agree to meet at the front gate in the late afternoon. By then, the traffic in the bakery is slow enough that you’re able to step away earlier than the normal closing time. You’ve changed into clothes more appropriate for walking around: in lieu of a dress, your typical work attire, you sport a tunic and trousers you don’t mind dirtying. The trousers are tailored to fit properly but the tunic is a tad big, the sleeves a bit too long, but Bennett thinks you look cute in it. A basket hangs on your forearm and you wave as you walk up to him.

“I hope you haven’t been waiting too long,” you say.

Bennett shakes his head. “Not long at all.” Technically the agreed upon meeting time was only five minutes ago, so you aren’t very late. Though he does refrain from sharing that he’d arrived early, in fear that he could end up late somehow and you would be the one who had to wait. Really, it’s been more like fifteen minutes for him, but he just keeps quiet about that.

One of the nice things about summer is that the sun sets later. There’s still a sufficient amount of light to illuminate the fields as you walk around in search of sweet flowers. At first, the extent of your conversation is discussing where you might be able to find a high concentration of them, then silence filled with the sifting of grass beneath your shoes and the occasional exclamation of having spotted a flower to be picked and tucked away in your basket.

Honestly, walking with you around the wilds of Mondstadt hadn’t been anywhere on Bennett’s list to do today, or any day really, not until he could muster the courage to invite you out like this, and who knew when that might be. Your need for sweet flowers had dropped the opportunity right into his lap, and thankfully he hadn’t squandered it. But now he’s at a loss as to what to talk about; he didn’t think he’d ever get this far.

Maybe you sense his struggle to come up with a topic of conversation because you’re the one to speak up, asking about his adventures and the commissions he takes. Done anything exciting recently?

Bennett’s eyes light up, a reaction which you can't help but smile at, and he regales you of the goings-on of his latest missions. He omits the instances where his clumsiness had made things more difficult (of which there were many), but each story is still truthful. Most of his commissions the past month hadn’t been anything too bold—after a mission that involved nearly getting himself trapped in a ruin due to solving a puzzle wrong then getting food poisoning on top of that from the snack he’d prepped that day, he’s been choosing jobs that he knows he’s more capable of.

To him, they aren’t too exciting, and in the larger scope of things, perhaps they aren’t, but you don’t seem to think that as you hang on each word. You’re absorbed in his story about trying to dismantle towers in a hilichurl camp, and gasp at the mention of their reinforcements coming to attack in the midst of it. Wow, you remark after he finishes his recounting of the event. You’re amazing, Bennett!

His heart does a flip again at the sound of his name and he shrugs offhandedly. He’s not inclined to think so, but your awed comment is sincere and has him reconsidering: yeah, that was pretty cool of him, wasn’t it? For all his clumsiness, he doesn’t often see the feats for what they are, accompanied by blunders or not, but you’re the fresh perspective he’d been missing, and he wishes you’d stepped into his life sooner.

The entirety of your outing together has thus far been free of any monsters, but as soon as Bennett makes this observation it’s like the universe has heard: hydro slimes suddenly pop out from the ground, halting you in your tracks. You squeak in surprise and Bennett is quick to shift into a fighting stance, knees slightly bent and one arm out in front of you protectively.

“Just stay there!” he instructs before drawing his sword and rushing forward.

Luckily there aren’t many slimes to fight off, and they aren’t very big. His sword cuts through them easily, cleanly. They burst and spray water upon being sliced apart, so at the end, when they’re all dead, the only evidence they had been there to begin with is the slight dampness to his clothes and the squish of dirt turned to mud. With a sigh of triumph, Bennett resumes a relaxed stance, then sheathes his weapon and turns to you.

As instructed, you’ve stayed in place, but it seems to have been more out of being frozen in fear than anything else. You’re clutching your basket close, and once the slimes are gone, you follow Bennett’s lead and relax, shoulders releasing the tension they had been filled with for the duration of that fight. You let out a deep exhale of relief, hand placed over your heart which has yet to slow back down to its normal pace.

“Thank you.”

Bennett flashes a toothy grin and waves his hand as if to say It’s not a problem. “That’s what I’m here for isn’t it?”

You smile back. “I’m glad we went together.”

Together. He likes the sound of that. He thinks to himself that he’d go with you to other places too; you need only to give the word. To the edge of this world, and through a portal to the next? He’d meet you by the front gate at dawn.

He’s surprised that the encounter with those slimes had gone as smoothly as it had. It isn’t uncommon for him to get hit a few times, bruises quick to form on his arms or his legs. And it’s quite the run of luck, of which he’s ordinarily in short supply, that he should get through a fight with nary a scratch on him while with you. His efforts to impress are actually succeeding.

However, this is another case of speaking too soon, because he starts to walk back to you, but then his foot gets caught on a rock concealed by the tall grass, and he tumbles to the ground.

“Oof!”

His chest collides with the earth as he lands with a thud and the breath is stolen from his lungs. You gasp and close the gap between you, and in viewing you in his peripherals, he notes that you are much more graceful at it.

“Are you all right?”

Bracing his hands on the dirt, small bits of rock digging into his palms, Bennett pushes himself up to sit on his knees. “Yeah, I’m okay!” Here he thought he had handled himself perfectly well, but then just like that, his clumsiness returned, and once more before you he is awkward, blundering Bennett.

Unlike the incident at the bakery when he’d bumped his head into the tray, this fall had actually hurt, and he can’t hide it successfully, a slight wince of pain crossing his face in spite of his smile. Even if you hadn’t caught on to that, the injuries elsewhere on his body give it away completely.

“Your arms are all scraped up…” After Bennett stands back up, you gingerly take hold of his forearm and angle it to examine the scrapes there, thin red lines from tiny stones tearing the skin.

Your grip is light, like you’re scared to injure him further, and Bennett is thankful for the darkness that is setting in as the sun disappears and the moon begins its trek across the sky, for it conceals the way his cheeks redden to be this close to you, to be touched by you. The concern in your gaze as you look at his arm makes his chest squeeze but not in the good way, and he bends his knees slightly to duck into your line of view.

“Don’t worry! I’m fine.” And it’s true. He’s sustained worse, though he steers clear of sharing this part. He doesn’t like to see you worried.

He straightens up when you finally meet his eyes and dons his smile again, easy and reassuring. It seems to convince you, as you nod and let go. He drops his arm back down to his side but he’s already missing the feather-light sensation of your fingertips. Successfully reassured, your smile also returns, replacing the thin line of worry that your lips had previously been set in.

It’s dark now but the air is still warm, a consequence of the season. In the daytime the heat is more extreme, made even more so by the fire curling from the edge of his sword. At the conclusion of whatever commission he has taken, he’s left sweating, satisfied but exhausted. Missions in the summer are more difficult to get through, the sun beating down with little mercy and its heat lingering into the night, but he thinks that if he were to have you there with him, he’d hardly notice.

Your delicate gaze is the cool ocean breeze and your soft smile the deluge of waves washing over him, a force he receives gladly because he is falling into you, deeper into the expanse of your heart. He’s diving into the sea, the unbearable heat of summer long forgotten as he makes his way to the bottom. What he hopes to find he isn’t sure, but he’d be content to remain there forever, consumed by you and all the love you have to offer.

“Okay?” he asks, voice soft. You had nodded but he also wants verbal confirmation that you won’t burden yourself with worry anymore.

You catch on to his own need for reassurance, and he wants to sink into the refreshing fondness of your eyes as you watch him. “Okay.”

The moon up above illuminates your face, and he wants to run his fingers along all the parts it touches: the line of your cheekbones, the bridge of your nose, the cupid’s bow of your lips. He yearns to be closer to you than that moonlight adorning your skin, and maybe it’s strange that he should be envious of it, of that light which has the privilege to hold you so near, but the feelings he has for you are what’s written about in books, and in those stories, people do tend to do strange things.

In the morning, he stops by the bakery as usual but this time is surprised when you set a cake down alongside the other baked goods he buys. You answer his question before he can voice it.

“For yesterday,” you state simply. “For my hero.”

Your—?

“I think ‘hero’ is too strong a word for it,” Bennett replies, chuckling quietly and rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. After all, they had just been slimes.

You hum noncommittally, corner of your mouth lifted in a grin. “Maybe, but yesterday you were mine. So please take this as thanks.”

He’d like to be yours every day, and the thought of how nice that would be makes his whole world just a little brighter, like the crystal butterflies fluttering around him in the wild on the warm summer nights; and he hopes that the next adventure the wind guides him on leads straight back to you.

#bennett x reader #bennett imagine #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagine #bennett #genshin impact #bubble-tea-bunny #queue

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zensharks · 3 years

Text

𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙧 - 𝙙𝙞𝙡𝙪𝙘 𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙣𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙧

you create more questions in his mind than he would like - and what does one do when they have a question? they find the solution.

ᴀ/ɴ: ohhhh boy this is the longest, most dialogue-y piece i’ve written - i am very open to constructive criticism ^^ enjoy!!

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: none

ᴡᴄ: 2.2k

he has loved you for longer than he thought possible. every chaste glance between the two of you he thought would be the death of him only led to stronger feelings, more knots tying in his chest, and less rationality. diluc is a reasonable man. love is an unreasonable feeling. and it was because of this that his love for you was so confusing - how could you ever feel the same? was it possible for another to feel with the same intensity? was there another fire that burned as bright as his? as he attempted to answer these questions, he hoped to the archons that you were the answer.

one particularly cool evening, he was closing the tavern for the night when you appeared, peering through the crack in the doorframe. he was so invested in his cleanup that your presence went unnoticed as he placed bottles back in their correct spots on the shelves. you softly cleared your throat, diluc whipping his head towards the source of the alarmingly sudden noise. the rapid movement caused his hair to hit a bottle that sat precariously, knocking it into the ones nearby. he quickly steadied them on the shelf before turning his attention to you, straightening his posture and brushing his gloved hands against the front of his shirt.

“what brings you here? the tavern will be closing soon.”

“oh, um-” you replied, searching for an reason for your presence that did not include his name, “wine?”

slightly bemused by your reply that seemed to disregard what he had told you, he coughed lightly. “o-of course. you can have a seat here, if you’d like.”

despite the fact that it was now past the closing hours, diluc was glad to let you stay. he was aware that nothing would come from time alone with you, but whether it was to slightly give in to his feelings or the fact that he held on to a shred of hope that they were exchanged, he began to pour you a glass.

“dandelion wine,” you remarked.

“of course. you order this consistently, every time you visit.”

diluc wasn’t always working at the tavern, rather, he was often stuck in his business at the winery. how did he know your usual? did he check the tavern’s order history? the realization that he made an effort to know more about you brought a flush to your cheeks, that diluc did not take notice of as his attention was fixed on pouring your drink. he promptly slid it across the bar towards you with a nod that you exchanged back at him in silent thanks. this silence continued for a moment - a moment longer than you or diluc would have liked. it weighed the air down, creating a pressure that pushed harder and harder on your skull as you looked down at the bar below you-

“why are you at the tavern?” you suddenly spoke up, a little too loudly, making diluc’s brow furrow slightly.

“i’m not sure i understand.”

“i meant why are you working in the city today? you’re usually at the winery, so i got the picture that you’re quite busy”

“ah, yes. in truth, the winery can feel rather dull. the business of the tavern is a nice change of scenery,” diluc explained as he continued cleaning the counter behind the bar.

“that makes sense, i can imagine how the same view every day could get a little repetitive, even if it is quite a sight.”

“of course. i don’t take the winery’s scenic location for granted, but after seeing the same cliffs every morning it can feel ordinary, to an extent.”

“naturally,” you agreed, taking a sip of your wine. the taste had a sort of gentle sweetness to it that filled your mouth with warmth.

the two of you were usually well-versed in conversation, as you often found yourself spending far too many hours at the counter of the tavern on the days that diluc was present. your talks lasted throughout the day as customers came and went, ogling at the sight of the famously stoic master diluc laughing at your jokes and gazing fondly at you with a soft smile as you told him about your recent commissions from the guild.

on one of these days as you were explaining to diluc the many troubles that dragonspine has given you, kaeya decided to make his grand appearance. the sight of his adoptive brother so immersed in a discussion with another was greatly amusing to kaeya, resulting in it being the topic of his teasing for many days to come. this got on diluc’s nerves more than many of his other jokes, resenting the sound of kaeya’s voice bursting through the tavern doors. however, kaeya’s interest in your and diluc’s strange dynamic faded as he moved onto other topics; but the feelings that the two of you shared did not, which is exactly what brought you to the tavern at such an hour.

you traced your forefinger around the rim of your glass as the silence returned after your small-talk fizzled out, the both of you waiting for the other to say something. and to diluc’s own surprise, he was the first to speak.

“have you been in love before, [y/n]?”

the shock from this very straightforward question was apparent on both of your faces, diluc’s face contorting into confusion as to why he would dare to utter such a thing.

“i think so,” you replied steadily, “have you?”

“i think so,” he repeated, after a momentary pause. “it’s strange - love is said to be wonderful, but in all truth it’s quite uncomfortable.” his words were now at the mercy of the wind, the bewilderment at his own sentences remaining plastered across his face as he silently begged for the anemo archon’s mercy.

“how so?” you pushed, wanting him to continue. you knew the point, it was simple to understand, he was just waiting for your green light.

“it’s not easy to read. the others’ thoughts are crucial, yet there’s no way to determine if the feelings are exchanged or one-sided. then arises the issue that if, in fact, the interest is not mutual, then it was futile from the beginning.” as diluc rambled he vigorously scrubbed at the same spot on the counter which had been polished to perfection many minutes ago. you let out a soft laugh at his uneasiness, the sound causing butterflies to fly through his stomach and out of his throat. he longed to hear your laugh again.

at this point, it was clear to you that diluc had similar feelings towards you. he was under the impression that you were not conscious of the way he was always gently studying your expression on your visits to the tavern, and his now very strong uneasiness in your presence, but on quite the contrary you were well aware. each action of yours that brought down his professional and polished front was another answer to your question that, yes, diluc ragnvindr has feelings for you. on the other hand, the winery owner himself was very unsure of your stance. he was so engrossed in keeping a hold on his own behaviours that he barely noticed yours - the way that your gaze always lingered after he had looked away, the frequent and seemingly aimless visits to the winery when diluc was not present at the tavern, and of course, your unexpected appearance at the door tonight. you did not hide your feelings for the ragnvindr, rather, he did not take notice. for this reason, the idea that you could even slightly return his feelings was far out of reach, if not impossible.

“and if it’s not futile?” you questioned, teasingly. your reply made diluc go red in the face, and with nothing to hide the fire that lit before you he was made to simply endure it.

“that’s not probable,” he stated matter-of-factly as he forced himself to regain composure. the tone in his voice implied he already knew the answer, but he could not have been more wrong.

“don’t be so sure.”

diluc was stubborn, but not totally oblivious. he was able to pick up on hints, or at least the more direct ones. knowing this, you were direct. this had his mind running circles as your eyes seemed to look directly through him, straight to his heart - he has lived with his questions for so long, that the idea of finding the answer is terrifying. the storm that had amassed in his head barely manifested itself for you to see; only in the smallest of gestures like the repetitive and almost mechanical way that he tucked the same loose strand of hair behind his ear, even when it had already been put in its place. he simultaneously loathed and relished in the way that you danced around the answer, loving the chase yet dreading the end.

“and why shouldn’t i be?” he challenged, his voice painted with more annoyance than he intended. your expression stiffened.

“i think you know why.” as much as you enjoyed the nature of your conversation, the end goal was tugging on your sleeves as you drew nearer.

diluc then proceeded to do something he had previously thought impossible. he slung over his shoulder the towel that had now nearly polished a hole in the counter, moving around to the front of the bar where you were seated. he could feel the beat of his heart in his head, the pace quickening as you stood up from your barstool. despite your certainty in the situation you couldn’t help but feel a hint of nervousness as diluc stood in front of you, eyes looking down piercing directly into yours. moving as if it was second-nature, diluc took one of your hands in his, keeping his eyes locked on yours as he snaked his free arm around the middle of your back. you instinctually brought your empty hand to the back of his neck, the touch sending a chill down diluc’s spine.

as the two of you stood silently, chest to chest, keeping both of your stares fixed on the other, diluc spoke up, “you’re right,” he breathed. if it weren’t for your closeness, his words would have been inaudible. “can i?”

the second you began to nod your head you were pulled into a kiss, stealing away any breath left in your lungs. it was chaste, gentle but with purpose. his lips said what his words could not. he was the first to pull away, the way that you relaxed into his touch swiftly forcing him back into reality; he refused to meet your gaze, the contrast to his previous actions forcing a small laugh out of you. there it was - that sound that he loved, again.

“yes,” you laughed, “you can.” you let go of his hand to place both of yours on the sides of his head, bringing his eyes to meet yours. “i told you, you knew why.”

with neither you nor him able to think coherently, you remained still for a moment, eyes locked on each other’s. any onlookers could only assume that this is where you would remain forever, the look that you shared and the weight in the air making you both appear to be roots planted in the ground.

diluc could not help but smile at the irony in the timing of your remark, a bit of confidence returning. “did you know i play piano?”

“i did not,” you replied with exaggerated formality, tilting your head with a slight smirk.

“i have a piano at the winery, would y-”

“i’d like to hear,” you interrupted, letting your hands fall from where they rested on his face.

“it’s quite late,” diluc points out, of course needing to take all considerations into account.

“i’m assuming you have a couch?”

“we have plenty of unoccupied guest bedrooms.”

“oh my, luxurious!” you grinned, drawing a similar expression out of diluc as he reached for a ring of keys.

wordlessly, he led you out of the tavern, the slightest of smiles remaining on his face and a more obvious one on yours. he shot you one final glance before locking the door as you gave him an affirming nod.

when you first entered the tavern that night, neither diluc nor you expected for the evening to end with both of you having confessed months worth of feelings within half an hour of conversation. diluc especially was in quite a haze of disbelief, unsure of what to do with the masses of doubt that had accumulated being suddenly reduced to nothing. moreover, he had acted solely driven by emotions with not a hint of rationality; it was rare that diluc was led by emotion, but your presence was enough to quell any logic or reason that he had established.

diluc lives his life driven by questions remaining unanswered. the resolve is unnecessary, and often underwhelming at best. however tonight, as diluc led you back to the winery surrounded by the cool evening air, he came to a realization: perhaps questions exist to be answered - and perhaps the answer is worth chasing.

✦ 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥! 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 :)

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fanfic #genshin headcanons #genshin x reader #diluc #genshin diluc #diluc x reader #diluc fanfic #diluc headcanons #diluc ragnvindr #dawn winery #mondstadt #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc ragnvindr fanfic

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another-fantasy-world · 3 years

Text

Theirs, In Every Way Possible

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Pairing: Jemily x Fem! Reader, JJ x Reader x Emily

Summary: JJ and Emily thought that their life couldn’t get any better, until they met you. However, what happens when you aren’t completely truthful to them and the team who was already a family to you?

Warnings: Canon Violence, Reader came from a serial killer family, Reader has so many traumas, Homophobia, Reader has trust issues and is very indecisive. Y/N might frustrate you. Major Character Injuries.

Word Count: 3816 words

GIF isn’t mine

This case is completely made up from the top of my head, so if there are any similarities in the episodes in CM, they were probably just carved in my brain. Also, this might be a little ooc because I can’t just seem to tap into their personalities just yet

I’m sorry, I tried making this as angsty as I possibly could, I’m still working on my angst.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

You were fairly new to the BAU, only working there for about 6 months, and yet you fit in really easily. It definitely helped that you were the sunshine- Penelope Garcia’s bestfriend and that Erin Strauss couldn’t bring herself to dislike you. But what matters the most to them is that fact that you were a genius. No, not like Dr. Reid genius. You understood the serial killers in a personal level, and you would often coax the weapon out of their hand and get them to submit and surrender. Of course, when they confronted you about it, you easily lied and they somehow accepted that. So much for being profilers.

You never really did know when you first started seeing the couple in a new light. Yes you liked them both. It never really mattered since you just knew that it would just fade away. It was already embedded in your brain that everyone eventually leaves and that being too close to anyone would only get them killed. You learned that the hard way. But that didn’t stop you from admiring them from the shadows. It didn’t stop you from smiling whenever they talk, it didn’t stop you from memorizing their features like they were about to vanish into thin air, it didn’t stop you from admiring how JJ controlled the media, or how Emily used that voice when she’s speaking to the unsub and it didn’t stop you from admiring how well they fit each other, how their hands fit like puzzle pieces, and how your heart clenches in awe when you see them cuddled up with each other. You didn’t know what you would do with yourself, you desperately needed to get away from them, but you also wanted and needed to be around them. God, you knew you sounded like a hormonal teenager.

“This is Daryln Garcia, Ahron Balydyn, Abbey Banagher and Jehoushua Castiel. Their names are on top of the list of the recent chain of murders all over each state.” Garcia winced at the pictures that she had to present to the whole team, she never did seem to get used to it

“Some of these are from waaaaay long before, why only now?” Emily asks from her seat , which was coincidentally next to yours

“The M.O’s are all over the place, which is why they didn’t connect the murders until now. The only thing connecting them are black sticky notes that are posted on the wall and on their body.” Rossi reads out.

“Where’s the latest one?” You ask, sipping your coffee

“...Los Angeles, California.”

“Wheels up in Five.” Hotch concludes, as everyone gets up to gather themselves.

After talking and discussing the case a bit more, You all decide to calm down for a few hours, and each and everyone of you set off to do your own things.

“Uh-huh, you’re staring at them again huh.” Garcia teased you through the screen.

Spencer was memorizing and rereading the case files,

Hotch was talking with Rossi, probably discussing the case,

Morgan has his headphones clogging his ears,

JJ and Emily were cuddling with each other as JJ munched on her cheetos.

You were currently seated away from the team, just out of earshot because you knew that Garcia would begin spouting non-sense.

“Shut up...” You blushed bright red. “...I told you this once, while I was drunk and now you bring it up in every conversation that we have. It’s just a silly little crush, sunshine. It’ll pass.” You told her, playfully glaring at the screen, to which she laughed

“Sure, Gummy Bear. Keep telling yourself that.” She grinned.

When you were about to land, you hung up on your bestfriend before steeling yourself, You didn’t need to acknowledge the gut feeling in the pit of your stomach, and you most certainly ignored the growing headache that you have.

JJ and Emily certainly noticed you right from the start. The woman who had no experience in the field whatsoever is suddenly the finest one they ever seen. (or maybe that’s just because they were so attracted to you that they happen to pay too much attention) That wasn’t the only thing they noticed though: They also noticed the tiny change in tone when you talk to either or both of them at the same time, or the way that your head would be the first to turn when they walk in the bullpen, or the way that your eyes would quickly scan them from head to toe before you bury your face into the paperwork that Hotch gave you, just a slight hint of embarrassment in your eyes peeking out from the cover or maybe it was the way that you would breathe a little heavier and talk a little faster when you discussed the case with them. You weren’t painfully obvious, but they were profilers for God’s sake, they notice everything, especially if it’s about you. There was just something so painfully attractive about you that interests them so much. The way your hair flowed as it dances with the wind, The way you licked your lips since they were dry (They tried to get you to use a lip gloss or a lip balm but you fought them, real hard.), The way your body tackled unsubs who got into your nerves (They always had to change clothes after that...), The way your eyes shined when you successfully return and reunite families, The way your mind worked: How you analyze quick, How you look at things in all angles, How you tried to put yourself in the very scene, How you work so well with Spencer and How you always seem to know what to say, every damn time. Maybe it was the way you broke social construct just by wearing a suit everytime you go to work, or it’s probably the smirks you give them when you’re right about something and they were in the wrong. (It makes them want to pounce on you, but they restrain themselves, taking their frustrations out on each other in the privacy of their own home.) But what they hate the most, it how dense you are. At this point, JJ could send you a love letter and you would think that it’s a recent case evidence.

"...This is Dr. Reid, SSA Prentiss, Y/LN, Morgan, Jareau, and Rossi."

“Right this way, we have arrested a prime suspect this morning.”

“How?” You ask, lifting two duffle bags and setting them down to your designated table

“She was found lurking around the crime scene and a bloody shirt matching one of the latest victims in his backpack.”

“Can we have her bag?” Emily asks, approaching the officer

“Yeah sure. Right this way Agent.” He leads her to somewhere while you trail Hotch to the interrogation room, only to freeze in your tracks.

“What the hell” you whispered under your breath, feeling the same suffocating aura when you felt like your past is catching up to you.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” You hear Derek ask you.

“I can’t do this. I need to call Garcia. Excuse me.” You replied with a look in your eyes. Derek recognized that same look with Emily when she ran away, pursuing Doyle to protect the team, and he’ll be damned if he let’s history repeat itself.

“Nuh-uh sweetcheeks. I know that look. Tell me.” Derek grips your forearm gently.

“Derek. I promise I won’t run away. And if I’m not back within an hour, track my phone and my ring.” you assured him, pulling your phone out and hurrying outside.

“Garcia. Please tell me that my identity is still concealed.” You begged Penelope while you were stress smoking at the back of the precinct.

“It is! I promise! There’s no way they would find you! through technology at least.” she ranted. You see, Penelope Garcia doesn’t do well with secrets, but you really needed her, and she understood that. Which is why your secret is the best kept secret she has, she hid your secret for a year now.

“Then tell me why my aunt, who might I add is an absolute psychopath, is in our major suspect list right now?” you panicked, knowing that your “family” has somehow tracked you

“It might be a coincidence, Gummy Bear. But I will look into it! I promise.”

“Garcia. One more favor. Back up all my files, all of it. From my work laptop, my FBI files, my personal devices, all of it. Then delete them all. I’m going to use a disposable starting now. Pull up the GPS service for my ring, keep an eye on me at all times. I’ll be damned if I see more of my family.” You spat out, stomping out the light of your cigarette, before popping a mint.

“Consider it done. Don’t you think it’s time to tell them?” she carefully asks, knowing how sensitive you are.

“Thank you Garcia, And I will. Once the time is right.” You grumbled, knowing that it’ll be sooner than later.

“Y/N. Tell them before it’s too late. Please, for your sake and for ours too.”

“I will short stuff. I will.”

For days you successfully evaded interrogating your aunt, subtly helping them as much as you can without raising suspicion. You knew that this secrecy is going to be revealed soon

“Y/N. We picked up coffee for you.” You suddenly hear JJ behind you, Emily’s hand gently placing the coffee in front of you, her eyes filled with concern

“You didn’t go to your hotel room did you?” Emily accused

“...No” You dropped your head onto the files in front of you

“You need your sleep Y/N. You’re no use when your brain can’t even function.” JJ retorted, taking a seat beside you, with Emily by her side.

“...Fine. A nap on that sofa. That’s it.” You bargained, determination shines in your eyes

“Okay. Go.”

And then, the moment your head hits the arm rest, you blacked out. Only waking up to Derek’s frantic shaking of your body

“Y/N! Get up!” It was rare for Derek to be this panicked and scared, and that gave you anxiety

“What? What is it?!” You stood up, feeling yourself get dizzy my how fast you got up.

“JJ and Emily are gone.”

What?

“Wait- What do you mean- How long was I asleep?” You blinked

“Precisely 4 hours, 36 minutes and 56 seconds.” Reid blurts out from infront the whiteboard.

“What happened for fuck’s sake?” You sat back down, rubbling your head

“Hotch was about to send you in on a lead, but they both volunteered instead.” Rossi explained

“And no one sent backup?” You were angry, barely keeping it in, you were slowly regretting keeping your secret now

“No one knew until now, when JJ and Emily didn’t come back after an hour, Derek went after them, only to find this.” Rossi lifts up the black sticky note.

“Family for Family, Blood for Blood”

“Is it possible that Rayna Torres, is their relative?”

“ Call and Tell Penelope I said Yes.” You point to Derek, knowing that Garcia will know what to do. You’ll let your bestfriend explain, she’ll explain it better since your mind is fogged

You couldn’t take it anymore. Your face hardened, clenching your jaw. You rarely showed anger, or annoyance for that matter, so they didn’t know what to do when you stormed off in pursuit of Hotch.

You found Hotch in the interrogation room, silently observing your Aunt

“Let me talk to her.” You say, earning a nod from him

You stormed in, slamming the door behind you.

“Listen here, you little psychopath. Where are they.” His eyes widened slightly, Hotch didn’t expect you to be so hostile

“There you are. I was beginning to think that we got the wrong team.” She grinned, intertwining her fingers, her wrists still bound to the table by a handcuff.

“I am not in the mood for your games.” You deadpanned, gripping the table to conceal your anger

“Hmmn. You always did have your father’s temper.”

“WHERE. ARE. THEY.” You slammed your palms on the metal table, making a slight dent on it. Ignoring the pain, you glared at her hard

“You know where they are child. I know that you know where they are.” The devilish grin once again appeared on her face.

“If I step foot inside that warehouse, and they are not there, I can’t guarantee your head will still be attached to your shoulders when they prepare you for your casket. Auntie.” At that statement, you walked away with a surprised Hotch on your trail.

He treated you like his very own ever since you knocked on his door, crying your eyes out, ranting about your family. Of course he noticed the small slip-ups you accidentally let out especially when you’re drunk. But it was never enough to completely put the picture together. He knows that you treat him as a father figure. Which is why he can’t let you go in there alone.

“No. Absolutely not. You might die Y/N!” You raised your brow at him, the bulletproof vest never felt as heavy as it is now

“You’ve known me for 6 months, you’ve known them for years. Why are you picking me over them? You know that I’m what they want. You or any other person steps in though that door, they’re all going to be dead before they see JJ and Emily. Not to mention they might kill JJ and Emily too. Please Hotch. This is my battle. If I die, I die. I don’t want to live knowing I could’ve done something.” Those were your last words before you slowly walked to the warehouse door after getting wired.

“This really isn’t the best first impressions you could make on your future daughters-in-law. Father.” You spoke as you saw him pointing a revolver at her, at your Emily.

You almost collapse at their state. JJ’s beautiful blonde hair caked with dirt and blood, she was staring at you, shaking her head, tears welling up in her eyes. Her lip is swollen and you could see multiple bruises forming.

However, Emily’s state was much worse. Her eyebrow was bleeding, her knuckles are bruised, she has small cuts everywhere and you could see that she was struggling to stand up despite being tied by her hands to the ceiling

“This one has a sharp tongue daughter. i don’t appreciate it.” He snarled, now pointing his gun at you

“Last one who said that exact words to had his dick cut in half. Where’s my jerkwad of a brother anyways? How’s his dick? Still has my bite marks? Scars maybe?” You smirked, hearing your “mother” load her gun

“Disrespectful Bitch. Don’t talk to your brother like that, he’s better than you ever will be” She snarled, firing at your feet, slashing through your pants, making you bleed slightly, making JJ scream through her gag.

“Your aim’s getting rusty.” You pulled out both your guns, pointing them at you biological “parents”

“And you’re wearing a bulletproof vest. Take it off and kick your guns to us. You know what’ll happen if you don’t” you gritted your teeth, taking off the vest despite the protests of Hotch and the rest of the team

“Happy?” “Very.”

“Now let them go.” You frowned

“No. You see, since you do love them right?” Your father smirked, making you frown

“Yes. I do. I’m in the same team as them for fuck’s sake!”

“No. No. That’s not just it. You love them in a different way as well. Say it.”

“...” Your mother rolled her eyes at your silence and fired two bullets to Emily and JJ, scraping Emily’s cheek and JJ’s shoulder.

You flinched, you knew not to show emotion, but it’s painful to see the women you love get hurt.

“Okay! Fine! You want me to say that I love them? I will.” You gritted out

“Go on then, you know how I love my drama shows.” You glared at them, taking a deep breath in, watching them walk out of the room, a bright spotlight aligns itself on the three of you, It really is a sick TV show that your parents would love to watch.

“What they say is true. I don’t know if you noticed it yet. But I do love you, both of you. I really hoped that I could tell you over dinner, or a cup of coffee, but I guess life has other plans. Loving the both of you seems so weird, and unconventional, but who wants to be normal and boring am I right?” You chuckled, trying to lighten the mood, which they didn’t appreciate.

You moved your hand to their gags slowly, listening for complains from your parents, hearing none, your grabbed their gags and pull them down.

“Y/N-” They both started

“Shhh. Let me speak, you know I don’t have much time.” You smiled, implying that you wouldn’t get out of this alive.

“I notice everything. I do. I’m not as dense as you think I am. I just... I didn’t like the thought of you both getting attached to me. I love you both so much that I knew that if they catch up to me, I could die, or you could get hurt. And now this happened.” JJ shook her head as if to say it isn’t your fault.

“I love you both so much, I love the way you look at each other, often wished I could look at you both like that. I love the way you both force me to sleep then give me coffee in the morning. I love the way your brow furrows when you see a detail in the reports that displeases you, and then you’ll playfully glare at JJ and I when you notice that we’re laughing at you. There’s a lot more that I want to say to you, but I don’t have enough time.” you say, moving closer to them, tears staining their bruised cheek.

“I’ll see you in our usual spot in the coffee shop across the street?” You whisper to JJ, kissing her cheek

“I’ll be copying your move now.” You chuckle lightly, kissing her cheek

A slow clap rang throughout the room.

“Now that is a perfect drama and revenge.” You whipped your head around, only seeing your father. Pulling out your knife from your thigh, you run towards him recklessly, the screams of JJ and Emily’s pleads piercing your ears.

And then three gunshots rang throughout the warehouse, Derek kicked the door down, chasing after your laughing family. Your ears were ringing, you didn’t even notice that you collapsed from the impact. You couldn’t believe it actually worked. You could feel the sticky, red colored cornstarch mixture on your abdomen. However the growing pain on your shoulders prevented you from celebrating.

“Fuck.” You whimpered out, the impact of the bullets on your abdomen radiating throughout your body, yet you can also feel the bullet that’s still in your shoulder.

“Y/N. Stay with us come on” Emily whispered, despite her being in a worse condition that you, She still has your hand in a death grip.

“I’ll be fine Em.” You reassure her through jagged breaths, JJ’s crying face invading your view made you smile too.

The moment that Emily and JJ were free from their binds, they immediately limped towards you as fast as they can, both of them on each of your side, silently wishing that they had more time

“They only managed to shoot me on my shoulder okay? I’ll be fine.” You could see the confusion in their faces, which faded when the paramedics unbuttoned your stained white shirts, only to find another bulletproof vest and an empty plastic bag, previously filled with what they can assume was fake blood.

Emily’s eyes widen, what you did was dangerous, and extremely risky. You gambled on a unpredictable mess and she wondered how you got Hotch to approve of what you did, only to find out later that Hotch didn’t know either.

You could only smile at them, feeling the drugs the paramedics injected take effect, slowly drowsing off. You were happy they were somewhat safe. You were also happy that you managed to stab your father in his arm. Even if your brother did shoot your shoulder from behind, you were still happy with how things turned out.

Almost regretting what you did when you woke up to a staring Emily, JJ quietly handing you water, before they both scolded you like there’s no tomorrow.

However, after what seemed like ages of reprimanding from the older women, they both pecked your lips before asking you out on a date.

I guess it all worked out in the end.

#criminal minds #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau imagine #jennifer jareau x reader #emily prentiss x reader #jemily x reader #emily prentiss imagine

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aliensunflower-fics · 4 years

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Marinette’s Big Fall: An angsty Prompt

[ I have had not one. Not two. But THREE anonymous asks for some Miraculous ladybug angst with a pinch of salt SO here you go. Also because people keep asking me if they can make fics from my prompts I will just put here that YES you can I will love you if you do, please just tag me so I can squeal. I always love fan-art and I always love fics based off my ideas just go nuts guys. ]

If you asked the students of Bustier’s classroom what happened that sunny tuesday at 1:36pm they would all tell you it was an accident. None of them had meant for anything to happen and none of them had so much as laid a finger on the dark haired girl. It was just an accident that was all, but still their faces would lose blood and they would shake as they remembered the sight of Marinette Dupain-Cheng laying still as a stone at the bottom of the stairs. If you asked them to start at the beginning they would take a shaky breath and start their tale at the first warning bell of the school day, before Marinette had arrived and when Lila Rossi did.

The italian had for months been telling them of Marinette’s misdeeds and though many were proven to be false it seemed like not a day went by where Lila didn’t have some new to say about the bakers daughter. That days newest tale was about how Marinette had ruined Lila’s photoshoot at the park with Adrien. It was suppose to be a romantic shoot for valentines day and Marinette had arrived at the park where it was taking place with little Manon. Lila claimed that Marinette bribed the child into pushing Lila into the fountain during the shoot thus ruining the whole thing and making her look bad in front of the employer. Now hearing this story the students of Bustier’s class felt mixed Marinette was prone to fits of jealousy but would she really bring a child into it? Some were angry at Marinette for her repeated felonies some were unsure and one other a certain Adrien Agreste still had no idea what everyone meant about Marinette being jealous and while he knew that Lila had ended up in the water and that it was Manon who did it... He also knew for a fact that Marinette was in no way involved.

The debate over Marinette’s innocence would last until the young designer arrived then the class would fall into steely silence all fuming and grumbling trying to justify the Marinette they knew and loved with the jealous green eyed monster Lila suffered under. As they day wore on Alya always the seeker of truth began badgering Marinette trying to get to the bottom of the whole affair, and while Marinette admitted to being at the park and admitted to babysitting Manon and yes she even confirmed that Lila wound up in the fountain she claimed no responsibility arguing that little Manon had just wanted a hug from Adrien and had accidentally shoved the italian. This information spurred only new arguments though they happened without Marinette’s knowledge in back and forth messages when the teachers back was turned. Lila meanwhile continued to weave her web sending her own messages to the class with new accusations and ‘evidence’ something had to give as the tensions rose and at exactly 1:00 when Mme. Bustier stepped out something did give indeed.

No one really remembers the argument only who was leading it. Alya was a good person a bit too trusting and maybe a bit too gullible and brash but she always protected the weak and thats why Marinette loved her. The problem was right now Alya thought the one who needed that protection was one Lila Rossi. Marinette did her best to diffuse the situation she argued that it was a child’s mistake that Lila should let it go. Alya argued that Marinette always had issues with jealousy and that she needed to fess up and apologize. Marinette would no apologize for something she didn’t do and so the argument continued, classmates joined in things got more and more heated in the spur of the moment with everyone yelling and Lila sobbing Alya snapped and said two things she never should have. One she told Marinette they were no longer friends unless Marinette stopped being jealous. And two, she revealed just why Marinette was ‘jealous’ her crush on Adrien Agreste. The moment the words left her mouth Alya was hit with regret, the moment she saw embarrassment in her friends face and tears hot and fresh welling in her eyes she was hit with shame. No one spoke as the bakers daughter let out a choked sob but suprising them all it wasn’t an accusation of anger at Alya for outing her secret that left the dark haired girls lips it was a quiet shaky and broken:

“W-Were not friends a-anymore?” Followed by yet another choked and heartbroken sob.

Before Alya or anyone could answer the girl bolted for the door shaking with sobs. Everyone stood shocked still for a moment before Adrien bolted up and rushed after the girl the rest of the class followed. But they never reached Marinette in time. In her distressed state the pigtailed girl had tried to make a break for home but she was clumsy and clumsier still when upset so when she rushed down the stair she tripped and everyone could only watch in silent horror as the bakers daughter only managed to let out a gasp before her body slammed into the hard concrete. When the students of Bustier’s recalled everything later they would note with some shock that it was Chloe who moved first yelling out Marinette’s name, not her last name no, just her name as she rushed down the stairs and to the dark haired girls side. She noted the young girl wasn’t responding and quickly snapped for Sabrina to phone an ambulance while she continued to monitor Marinette. No one else would move, Alya would cry silently and in horror as Chloe called out to Marinette and checked her pulse, Nino would clutch his hat and stare mouth agape as Marinette lay like a lifeless corpse, Adrien Agreste would fall to his knees at the top of that stairs his eyes like saucers as he tried to comprehend what had happened. And Lila Rossi? She would feel every bit of blood in her body turn into ice as guilt gripped onto her and told her that this, all of this was because of HER.

Everything that happened next was a blur, the ambulance arrived Marinette was driven away with Chloe of all people. The police arrived, Bustier and Damocles felt there sweat turn cold as they were questioned, the other students of the school would stand around murmuring and pointing at the Akuma Class Rose would hear the kinder people ask what happened in hushed tone, Juleka would hear the crueler people say that the Akuma class had tried to kill the one person they couldn’t akumatize. Soon enough parents arrived and dragged away their children Kim and Alix would notice the small patch of blood on the concrete where Marinette landed, they would later puke thinking about it, but they told no one of what they had seen.

Meanwhile on the way to the hospital Tikki was in a panic, her dearest chosen her most precious and rare creation soul was BROKEN so many bones and bits of her body were mangled beyond repair... Well beyond NORMAL repair but Tikki was a god, a sentimental god at that and she would not let heaven or hell get in the way of her helping Marinette survive no matter the cause. And so sitting silently, hidden in the girls hair out of sight of the paramedic and Chloe who was telling them all she knew of Marinette’s medical background Tikki used her magic to mend all she could, she would make sure that her sweet precious Marinette would be alright but while she mended the broken body Tikki knew that there would be a price to pay. Magic always came with a price. In the past when she’d used her magic to heal holders this way some had lost their eyesight, others their voices, some would lose a limb, Tikki had no idea that cost Marinette would pay but she knew whatever it was her precious little bug would be alright.

And she was. The doctors were shocked to find that while Marinette had a broken leg and two broken ribs, some deep cuts that would never fully heal, and some awful bruising that would leave the girl sore for who knows how long she was in fact just fine. There was no internal bleeding, and no serious brain trauma, and somehow she’d be just fine to walk when her leg healed up. Sabine and Tom cried tears of joy at the news and stayed by the young girls side. Tikki was also pleased with the news from her hidden spot where she lay utterly exhausted. She knew still that their would be a price to pay but at least Marinette was alive and well. The bakers daughter did not wake up until early the next day and when she did she was mobbed by her parents. She smiled at their concern and when the doctor came in to greet her he decided to check her memory.

“Standard procedure.” He said. “It’s not unusual for there to be some minor memory loss surrounding the incident itself were just going to check.”

And so the questions began. They started with things like her birthday, and her parents names and ages, then they moved on to recent events, so far no problems. Finally they asked about the day itself and the ‘incident’ in questions Marinette opened her mouth to answer then paused thoughtfully. She couldn’t remember. Not unusual assured the doctor, and then he returned to asking other questions probing gently to ensure everything was alright, and it seemed to be up until the doctor asked a simple question.

“What’s your best friends name? And can you describe them.”

Marinette froze and stayed silent. Tikki suddenly felt a strange twist in her tummy. Sabine and Tom looked at their daughter uncertainly. Finally after a long pause. Marinette spoke with a strained laugh.

“I uhh dont remember having one sir.” Sabine felt her stomach suddenly drop, hidden away behind a plant Tikki felt the same thing.

Concerned by the answer the doctor probed more with Tom and Sabine joining in. The answers were startling. Marinette Dupain-Cheng had forgotten every single person that was present when she fell down the stairs. She could recall other students at the school and her teacher, but all the students of her own class? She could not recall their names or their faces. When her parents asked about a specific memory the first time Nino and Marinette met and became friends. Marinette’s eyes lit up. She remembered the event, she remembered someone being bullied and helping them and then they became friends. Her parents were hopeful and the doctor calmly asked Marinette to tell them who the bully was and who the person being bullied was. At that all Marinette did was frown and hold her head. She could remember the incident but... The faces of the bully and the one being bullied were blacked out she had no idea who they were. They tried asking her if she knew the bullied boys favorite things, she had no idea, his name? Nothing. Favorite color? Nope. It was odd extremely so and the only theory the doctor could offer was trauma based memory lose triggered by stress and the possible incident surrounding her accident.

Later when her parents left and it was safe. Tikki emerged and was overjoyed to learn that Marinette remembered her and being ladybug. Tikki was a bit worried about the holes in her dear chosens memories but she knew that this was the price Marinette had payed. She got to keep her life and all her limbs and eyes but she had lost something precious, her friends, they were now black holes burned into faded memories. And it extended into her superhero life. Marinette knew Rena Rouge she could remember her powers and her skill, but when Tikki asked who she was Marinette could only frown and hold her head as it throbbed. Alya, Nino, everyone even Adrien were gone, Marinette had the memories but no faces, no names, no attachment she had lost her friends. Tikki felt guilty of course and told Marinette as much but the young girl just kissed her Kwami’s head and confidently said that they would figure it out.

It had been a week sense Marinette’s big fall. And the students of Bustier’s class sat restless in their seats. None of them had been able to check up on Marinette as her parents had forbidden visitors and the bakers themselves were illusive now a days as they kept close to the hospital keeping their daughter company. All anyone knew was that Marinette was alive, and while that was great news it wasn’t enough. And to make matters perhaps more odd then Marinette’s disappearance was the complete inactivity by Hawkmoth. It was as if he was busy dealing with something else. Like maybe his teenage son who had been expressing all of his teenage rebellion and angst in a concentrated dose ever sense a certain bakers daughter had fallen down the stairs. Adrien was indeed the most miserable about the whole situation, he’d given up on bathing, moped all day, snapped at Lila for even opening her mouth, and was refusing to care for himself or attend any and all photoshoots and extra curricular activities. Adrien’s rebellion was causing big problems for Gabriel’s business and he was stuck rushing about trying to re-organize events and juggle his son who had become terrifyingly good at escaping the house to go to school no matter what kind of locks were installed.

As the day wore on for Bustier’s students ignored the looks given to them by the other students in the school. More then a few of them blamed them squarely for what had happened to Marinette while others shot them looks of sympathy or concern. The class as a whole looked like they were from a bad zombie movie, but the one who looked perhaps the worse of them all was Lila Rossi, while some would try and argue its because of how bad she felt for poor Marinette others would recognize that she seemed paranoid and on edge with her eyes darting about and how quick she was to defend herself against even the smallest assumed accusation against her. Finally lunch rolled around and like the mob of zombies they were the students of Bustier’s class walked mindlessly to the cafeteria that is until one of them spotted a familiar looking girl though her hair was no longer in pigtails and her clothing had changed it was undoubtedly her! The class rushed forward with a surge catching the attention of the whole school who watched the exchange curiously. Apologies were hurled out questions were yelled and poor Marinette looked overwhelmed silence only came when Sabine stepped forward with a warning look though there was an odd glint of pity and sadness in her eyes. Finally it was Alya who broke the silence.

“Marinette! We are SO sorry, please can you find it in your heart to forgive us?” The Ladybloger was holding back tears and no one had heard her voice that shaky before. After a long pause Marinette spoke.

“U-Umm... Hey listen I dont... Really know what your apologizing for... And uh I dont really know who you are but... Umm sure of course I forgive you! You seem very nice?”

The crowd was stunned. Marinette had no idea who ALYA was? Her best friend? The girl she’d fought with last? Sensing the tension in the room Tom gently guided Marinette away shooting Sabine an odd look. Both parents had hoped that seeing her old school would jolt Marinette’s memory but it seemed that even her best friends face wasn’t enough to bring back what had been lost. As Tom helped Marinette climb the stairs with her cast. Sabine took a deep breath and proceeded to explain what she could. That Marinette had lost... Some memories, specifically relating to people who had been around during her accident... She didn’t remember any of them and no one not even the doctors or Tikki herself could change that. As Sabine apologized for what must surely be a shock she excused herself to follow her daughter and husband to the principles office so they could discuss the situation.

For the students of the akuma class life felt like it had been turned sideways. Lila who had been consumed by guilt had begun to hyperventilate. Alya felt slapped and raw her best friend had no idea who she was and the last thing she had done before Marinette forgot all about her was denounce their friendship. For Kim and Nino their were tears and disbelief the girl that they had known sense childhood had no idea who they were and regarded them like any stranger on the side of the road. For Chloe there was the oddest feeling of heartbreak, now she would never know if Marinette could truly forgive her, because the Marinette to whom she’d been so cruel was all but gone. But it was perhaps Adrien who was hit the hardest, Adrien who had learned that Marinette liked him the day of the accident, Adrien who had watched her fall, who had not rushed to check on her, Adrien who had felt torn by guilt confused about his feelings, Adrien who felt like the world had lost the sun with Marinette gone, Adrien who had wanted Marinette to come back so he could see she was okay and ask her on the date she deserved, and now Adrien who meant nothing to her because she had no idea who he was.

As for the rest of the students of Dupont? Well many of them were overjoyed to know Marinette remembered them at least but they felt pity for the akuma class but many others wondered what the future held. Would Marinette’s old friends try and rekindle their friendships? Would they bring photos and music and videos to try and bring back the girls memories? Or would new friends take the place of the old and forgotten? Would Adrien continue down his path of rebellion fighting for a place in Marinette’s heart once more, or would he return to being a docile lamb under his fathers thumb his heart and mind numb due to the shock of it all. Would Lila Rossi return to her old ways? Would she crack under the feelings of guilt and shame? Or would she go mad and attack Marinette. How many people would forever flinch and rush to offer Marinette help whenever she so much as when near a flight of stairs? Would it be possible to anyone to reclaim Marinette’s lost memories or would new ones need to be made? No one knew. But they did know for certain that things would be different from now on.

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#my fic #lila salt #ml salt #ml salt prompt #lila salt prompt #ml prompt #alya salt #class salt #protective Adrien #adrinette #chloe sugar #Marinette deserves better

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