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rreids · 29 days

Note

hi! i'm not sure if ur taking fic request atm, but if ever u r, can i ask for a fic where f!reader also works for the bau, she is hotch's daughter, and she is dating spencer reid? 🥹 thank uuuuu

TELL ME • S. REID X READER

fem reader; reader is jack's older sister (age gap unspecified but assumed around spencer's age, hotch had her young or adopted); hotch is reader's father; established relationship; mentions of child abduction (unspecific, part of a case); bau reader; spencer is clingy; ~800 words

Working for your dad could be complicated.

Your emotions couldn’t ever fully be separated from the work, and he was known to get over protective and lose subjectiveness when you were in danger, or when he felt you were being mistreated. He’d always been protective of you and Jack — though, and, to be fair, you were protective of Jack, too. Like most were of their younger brother.

And you also got frustrated or worried about him easily. It was only natural, the way you both acted, despite your professionalism.

But most difficult was your current situation — you were dating a coworker (on your own team, no less), and were trying to figure out how to fill out the fraternization papers without your dad tearing Spencer apart limb by limb for dating his little girl.

“I don’t see why we can’t turn it in today,” Spencer speaks from where his chin rests on your shoulder, arms wrapped loosely around your waist as he hugs you. You hum and continue rolling his omelet. “He’ll find out one way or another,”

“Baby,” you start, interrupted by the toast popping up with a ding. “I think he’s going to kill you if he finds out through official channels and not a ‘meet my dad’ dinner.”

“But I’ve met him,” Spencer's voice is whiny and you’re so endeared by him you can’t help but to smile. “He’s my boss. And my friend.”

“Yeah, and he’s my dad before that. Trust me. We need to tell him as my father before he finds out as Supervisory Special Agent and Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner,”

Spencer sighs. You know he wants it turned in so there’s no potential push back from Quantico if he’s caught stealing a kiss (as has almost happened many times now, like the time he’d kissed you by the coffee in LAPD’s station and had to pretend he stumbled into you while grabbing something and that his face was only red from embarrassment — which it was, but not for the reason he told the chief), and so he can cuddle you on the plane, or have casual intimacy in down time, or a kiss for good luck before raids and arrests.

He’s fond of having his hands on you, soaking in your presence like a plant in the sun. This is proven to you even more as he refuses to let go of you while you plate breakfast, nuzzling closer to you as you struggle with the plates.

“A little help, Spence, please,” you jerk your head towards the coffee mugs. He heaves a long and suffering sigh before releasing you and grabbing them, placing them on the table. “Thank you, my love,”

He stares at you quietly. “Kiss?”

You beam at him and kiss him sweetly before sitting down. He kisses the top of your head before settling in his chair.

“Thank you for cooking,”

“You know I love doing it, Spence,”

“And I will always thank you! I don’t want to ever stop being grateful for all you do.”

You smile fondly and take a sip of your coffee. The two of you fall into comfortable silence until a phone rings — the tone set for a call from work. You sigh and pick it up, since Spencer was in the middle of a bite of his omelet.

“Hello?”

There’s a pause on the other end. “__? Why are you answering Spencer’s phone?”

Your dad. “Um,” you swallow. “We went to this event together yesterday and the weather was too bad for him to go home so he stayed at mine?” Your voice pitches up, and you know it’s a terrible lie. The weather was great. And you’re not a very good liar, especially not when it was to him. “What’s going on?”

He sighs, long and suffering. “We’ve got a case, a child abduction. We’re in the first two hours. Get over here as soon as possible with a go bag.” A beat. “And don’t lie to me. When were you planning on telling me?”

“Soon. Over dinner.” Your face falls and Spencer looks at you, wide-eyed. “Spencer wanted to just fill out the paperwork but I thought you’d want to be told like any dad…”

He hums. “You’re right. You still owe me that dinner, but, right now, a little boy needs our help. Get here. Quickly.”

The call ends.

“Honey?” Spencer asks softly, holding your hand.

You shake your head, clearing it. “We have a child abduction. Go get our stuff ready while I clean?” He nods, and as he’s getting to the bedroom you call and say “we’re still doing dinner with my dad! But he does know.”

i am always taking requests unless my pinned says otherwise <3 just for future reference, i will update that so don't worry that you're sending when i'm not accepting! if i don't update the request section, that's on me also i dont know how i feel abt this but it's written 👍🤠

#my works #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #requested

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luveline · 2 months

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Babe congrats on quitting!!!

I live coworker!James sm he is so lovely and i cant heló bit asking for more

R having a bad day and James doent know until he teeases her and she just like opens up to James a bit more?

thank you!!

You can’t escape Remus’ sweet questions of concern, though he’s tactful. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Remus asks, James a haunting somewhere near the customer complaints desk.

“I’m fine.”

“You really don’t wanna come to dinner with me?”

It’s a nice offer, but Remus is part of a package deal, and he’s the only one of the three who isn’t exhausting; Remus’ boyfriend Sirius is well meaning but so beautiful and so alarmingly aware of it, while James is all those things too, but much less subtle about it. “I’m too tired for the walking, thank you. I’m just gonna stay here and eat my sandwich in slow bites.”

Remus laughs, wrapping his scarf tight around his neck. He doesn’t tuck it under his coat. Sirius will do that for him. It’s heartbreaking to see every day, a reminder of real love in the world that will seemingly never touch you, but it’s cute too.

James rockets back to his desk. He’s always in a hurry. Half-frantic, he pulls his rucksack from under his desk and unzips the main body. To your horror, he unveils a large Tupperware of white rice, asparagus, and what looks to be chicken thighs. Next comes his portable knife fork.

He notices your watching. “It’s just rice and chicken,” he says defensively.

“No, I’m not–” You shake your head. “Not about what you’re eating. Eat what you want, James.”

“Don’t I always?” he asks. “Not about what I’m eating. Your general look of disgust and disdain is to do with something else, then. Did you accidentally look in the ladies bathroom mirror again?”

“It’s nothing.”

James tucks his chair in, face paused, hands hesitating at the sides of his dinner and then flat to the desk. “Hey, is something wrong?”

Maybe his comment before struck a nerve. Maybe you’re having a terrible day, and everything’s piling up, and you can’t be expected to keep in your feelings forever. Or maybe you’re dumb. “Guess I did look too long in the mirror,” you say.

“You’re upset?” he asks, startled.

You shake your head vehemently. Slow. “I’m just having a bad day.”

“What happened?”

You stare at him for a moment, take in the concerned twitch of his brows as they pull down and in, the set of his nice mouth, remarking to yourself on how the snarky sarcasm erases itself from his expression so quickly, leaving behind a boy with a very sweet face.

His hand curls into a loose fist. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“I don’t know if you ever get this, but sometimes I,” —your face goes white hot suddenly, an acknowledgment of the powers over you you’re giving him in needing reassurance— “look at myself and I feel a bit off. And I thought if I had lunch by myself I’d have time to not be looked at? Um. Which is why I was unhappy. Not because of you.” You frown at him. “You do make me unhappy, though.”

He pretends to laugh at your weak insult, which is generous. “So you actually did get upset looking in the mirror? Shortcake, I was kidding about that, it's not like it makes any sense.”

You frown at one another. “Why not?”

“Because you’re nothing worth being upset over?” James suggests. “You’re pretty. You know you’re pretty.” He points at you with his fork. “You do know?”

“No,” you mumble.

“I’m not telling you again,” he says, looking strangely as though he’d quite like to tell you again.

“I’m consistently below average.”

“Where? Do you have an address? I must go to this place where you’re the standard.”

Something weird and queasy summons to life in your chest, before levelling into a surprising pleasure. That was definitely a compliment, and from James, though annoying he might be, it means a lot. He’s outrageously good looking, after all, and especially when he smiles, which is nearly constant. He’s smiling now with the fondness of someone who knows you better than he actually does.

He ruins it rolling his eyes. “You’re ridiculous. Which I’ve come to expect!” he says, sliding a thumb under the clasp of his Tupperware. “Why would you think you’re not lovely? To look at, that is. You’re a huge pain otherwise.”

“That’s uncharacteristically mean, even for you.”

“I’m balancing it out. Want some asparagus?”

You excuse yourself for a quick trip to the bathroom, where you mouth questions at your reflection of the puzzled variety. Has James been replaced by a body snatcher? Or are you finally seeing the version of him everybody else in the office seems to know?

When you get back to your desk, your figurines have been upended by a ‘freak earthquake’. He’s back to normal.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #the marauders #marauders era #marauders

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nyx-greenwood99 · 27 days

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Severus Snape and my personal HC

I cannot begin to explain how perfect I believe my theories on Severus are. Let me explain

His Mam is Romanian and his Da is English

I work with someone from Romania, he's an older gentleman so I feel most of his stories and habits are from around the same age as Severus would be. It's a heavy accent with a deeper tone and it's common for Romanians to try to move away and marry. It's a poor country (at least as my coworker explains it). I can 100% see Eileen moving from home in search of better opportunities and ending up in Spinners end. Snapes deep voice and his features match well with Romanian men. And this may just be my coworker but gosh he puts so much effort in to sound proper and gets upset when he doesn't say something 'correct' in English. (Plus imagine how pretty he'd sound speaking broken Romanian when he's passionate or pissed off)

He dresses in a deeply professional way

A popular idea is that Snape dresses with care because he was poor. I'll do you one better. Being poor in Romania is common, yet they as a culture put emphasis on dressing nice. It's believed first impressions matter more than anything. I can see Eileen having some nice clothes tucked away for job interviews or holidays. She would probably apologize to Severus, saying 'one day you'll get your own nice clothes' leading to it becoming a prized possession of his. I can totally see him buying his first professional job robes and.....he just kept buying the same set because it was his first set of nice clothes. The other professors wear different outfits but not Severus.

Severus is mentioned to have a favorite whiskey

Another tradition in Romania is when you go to someones house you bring a gift (usually food or alcohol) I don't think fire whiskey is his da's favorite like its commonly suggested, I like to believe it was a whiskey his dad couldn't afford. Kind of like a 'screw you, I can afford better whiskey'. My coworker is very fond of his whiskey of choice and has mentioned always having a hidden supply. I can see Severus doing the same, maybe a locked drawer in his desk with a bottle and a glass.

Severus matches Romanian/Russian characters

Its only happened a couple times but I stand by, I have consistently come across other characters just like Severus who are either Romanian or Russian. Seriously, one of them has the same flipping haircut and mannerisms. Its not common but it happens enough that I've noticed a pattern.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk🧪

#severus snape #pro severus snape #pro severus #severus art #hp #snape #professor snape #severus fanfiction

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itsyassbitch · 10 months

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✈︎A plus one✈︎ Chapter I

Chapter II

Summary: Bradley has always been the single friend of all of his friend groups. However he’s tired of everyone trying to set him up with random women until one day he asks you to be his plus one to his friends marriage so they stop bothering him about getting a girl. What happens when you both start liking this lie you’ve been telling people? Warnings: None at the moment; probably smut, alcohol consumption, a little bit of angst, cursing, ...

Chapter one

Bradley has always considered himself as a lonely wolf, he’s never liked a woman enough to make it official. Besides, being a Naval aviator never helped his issues. Since he was aways on deployment, he didn’t really had time to find a good woman and settle in. As a result, this last decade has been more complicated to him than ever, with practically all his friends getting married, people constantly asked him why he was still single and even tried to set him up with some random women.

That’s how he finds himself in this situation, trying to convince one of his teammates to accompany him to his friend’s wedding. He was so sick of people trying to set him up that he told Thomas that he was having a plus one so they would stop embarrassing him. The problem is that he was as single as ever and the only people he used to socialize with were his coworkers.

He had thought about asking Natasha to be his plus one, but he knew that things would be so awkward, so he didn’t even try talking to her. Then, he wasn’t as close to Halo to ask her something like this. But at that moment he thought about you: You were good friends; you were funny and very pretty too. He could make more than one jealous by attending it with you.

Nevertheless, you weren’t fond of the idea and asked him “Why wouldn’t you just bring a real date to this wedding?” and he answered like it was obvious “Because I told him months ago about the plus one, so if I bring someone, she’ll have to know me quite well”. “Just take Hangman then, he knows you very well, biblically and all”, she said with a smirk on. “Stop teasing Viper, if I take Jake, he’ll only brag about the fact that he gets more chicks than I do… not to say that they know I don’t like guys. Come on, please say yes” he says with puppy dog eyes. “What’s in that for me?” you ask rolling your eyes. “Literally anything you want, I’ll do whatever you tell me for a week!”, “A month” you say trying to negotiate. “Two weeks” he says, “Deal!”

And that is how you found yourself caught up in this situation. Bradley told you that it would be a whole week in Hawaii with the bachelor / bachelorette party Wednesday, the venue would be Saturday along with the brunch on Sunday, so you’d have to fly Sunday night and be back the next Sunday after brunch.

Accordingly, you packed some beach clothes, swimsuits, your wedding and brunch outfits and some clothes more revealing for the bachelorette party or if you had another night out.

When you were done getting ready to go, you received a message from Bradley:

Chicken🐔: I’m outside, do you want some help with your bags?

Me: Nah I’m good, I only have my bag and a suitcase, and it isn’t that heavy. I’m already coming out.

Chicken🐔: Alright, no problem.

Once you leave your house you see his blue Bronco parked at your from porch while he gets out of the car to help you put your suitcase in the trunk. He’s wearing black sport shorts, a grey Nike hoodie and black vans along with his aviators while you are wearing low waisted grey sweatpants, a navy-blue baby tee, new balance shoes and your own sunglasses.

“Hey fake boyfriend, how are you doing baby?” you say mocking him. “Hello sweetheart, you love pretty today” he says carrying on with you little game. “Oh, shut up” you say with a desperate smile while getting in the car.

“So, how is this whole thing going to work? I mean, have you made up some back stories yet?” You say while he drives the car to the airport. “No, I haven’t yet, thought it would be better to do it with since you’ll have to remember all that bullshit too” “Yeah, you’re not totally wrong. Let’s start with simple things like how we met.” “Maybe we won’t have to lie about this one, we can say that we met on base when we were deployed together…” “Half-truths, I like that” you say with a little grin.

By the time you got to the airport, you had an acceptable story to tell people about your fake couple so they wouldn’t find it suspicious. As you waited for your flight departure, you and Bradley had lunch because you didn’t have time to eat at home, it was nothing much, just a sandwich because you knew you were going to eat during you flight too. Before boarding you made sure to take yourself a green juice and a beer for Rooster.

The flight was quite long to Hawaii, around six hours, so you made sure to take a book you wanted to finish but didn’t have time because of. Rooster only had his phone and his headphones, so you only talked occasionally.

Halfway through the flight, the lights were turned off so you decided instead of continuing reading your book you’d just watch the episodes of Vampire Diaries you’ve downloaded on Netflix, and you asked Bradley if he would like to watch it with you. At first, he was really into the story but then you noticed that he was falling asleep, but you didn’t say anything because you both had a rough day at work. At some point, he laid his head on your shoulder and was caught by surprise, you didn’t say anything and let him rest there.

About an hour later, the flight attendants started giving passengers their meals and drinks until one came to you and asked, “Excuse me ma’am, would your boyfriend like to eat something?” “Oh no, he’s not my… um actually yes, you can just give it to me, and I’ll wake him up” you answered with a smile, trying to get used to call Bradley your boyfriend. “Alright, what will you take then? We have fish, chicken, and a vegan option if you’d like” she said a little lower, to not wake him up. “One fish and one chicken please” “no problem, would you like to drink something?” “Two cokes please”.

“There you go” she said, making everything fit on your table while trying to not bump into him “Thank you!” You said when she started moving to another passenger and she just smiled at you.

“Roos… wake up, dinner’s here” you called as calmly as possible “what? What happened?” he asked, still half asleep. “The food’s here and it would be a shame to eat it cold. I took you a coke too” “Oh, thanks. You didn’t have to” “Don’t worry about it” you smiled; he looked like a puppy sleepy. “How long did I sleep?” He asked taking his food to his own table “Not very long, an hour maybe.” “Thanks for letting me sleep. What happened between Elena and Damon while I was asleep?” He said a bit embarrassed about the situation. “My my, Bradley Bradshaw was actually enjoying Vampire Diaries, who would have thought” you exclaimed. “Hey, it’s not my thing but it’s not either” he argues. “Whatever helps you sleep at night Bradshaw” you laughed while eating your meal.

When you arrived in Hawaii it was already one in the morning so Rooster decided it was better to take a cab to the hotel and explained that he would rent a car the next day. You didn’t argue with him, you were exhausted and only wanted to take a shower and sleep. As soon as you got to the hotel his friends were at Bradley told you could sit, he would take care of everything, and you thanked him while he walked away to the reception desk to check in. “Hello, how can I help you?” The receptionist questioned “Hi, I have a reservation under Bradshaw” “Oh yes, let me just check very quickly” she answered while typing on the keyboard. “Here you are! So, it was a suite with a Queen bed for a week. Is that right?” “There must be a problem, I reserved a room with two beds” “I’m apologize for our, there must have been a misunderstanding during the call. Unfortunately, all the rooms with double bedding have been booked. Would like me to add another single bed bedroom?” “Can you just wait a second? I must talk with my friend about it” “Yes, no problem. Sorry again” she him an upside-down smile while he returned next to you. “Hey, what’s up? Somethings wrong? “Yeah um, there’s a problem with the reservation? For the love of God Rooster, don’t tell me you booked in the wrong!” You started to panic because of how exhausted you are. “No, no, it’s nothing like that. They’ve accidentally booked our room with one single bed, so I wanted to ask you what you’d like to do. Maybe I can take another bedroom for you. I’ll let you take the room tonight and I’ll just find something for me”. “Oh, come on Rooster, you know how much it costs for a last-minute booking? Probably twice the price it would normally… I mean, we’re not kids anymore, I have no problem in sharing a room with you.” You say, relieved, that it’s not a big issue. “So, I just keep the reservation as it is?” “Yeah, plus it would be weird to your friends if we were a couple and didn’t sleep in the same hotel, right?” “Yes, you’re right! I’ll be right back then”.

You see Bradley talking to the receptionist but you’re too tired to even pay attention to what they’re saying so you just wait until he comes back to you and take your suitcase, leading you to the elevator. When you get to the room, you’re the first one to go inside and it is simply enormous. It has the classic Hawaiian aesthetic, but you think it looks so good. When you first enter, there is a sort of living room with a small kitchen in it, a double door that leads to the bedroom and a simple one to the bathroom.

“Hey, look, there’s a couch in here. I’ll leave you the bed and I can sleep here” he says, looking at the small couch in the living room “You’re not serious, are you? Have you seen your size and this couch? You’d never be comfortable in that. I’ll take it”. “I’m not going to let you sleep on the couch, I’m already thankful that you accepted coming with me, you deserve at least to have the bed…” “I’m tired and I don’t have time for this so let’s just share the bed, ok?” You say, opening your suitcase to take your pajamas. “Are you sure?” “Absolutely!” You reply entering the bathroom to take a shower. “Sharing it is then” he mutters while sitting on the bed.

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I know it's a little short but I'm still getting used to all the writing, hope you enjoy it and please don't hesitate to tell me things I could change/improve xoxo <3

#miles teller x reader #miles teller #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster top gun #rooster x you #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw x female reader

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toru-oikawas-milkbread · 2 years

Text

Sleepy Cuddles With Diavolo

Pairing: Lord Diavolo x f!reader

Word count: 2K

Warnings/contents: Fluff, fluff, and more fluff

Notes: I don’t think I really have much to say for this. I really enjoyed writing this chapter, it was so much fun to take his character and make him such a sweet and loving fiancé who’d be on your side no matter what. So, with the thought in mind, I rolled with the idea and 2k words later, here we are! I hope that you guys can enjoy this chapter!

<>~<>~<>

Truth be told, the rumors were getting to you. That you were only with Diavolo because he was someone so important. That you were less interested in him and more his money, his heritage, even his body. For the longest time you laughed them off, but it seemed as the years went on they were only growing more intense.

To battle off the annoyance you felt from the constant rumors, you decided to get a job. Going from a child who had everything handed to her in the Devildom to falling for the young Lord, you’d never so much as needed to think of getting a job to make cash. But now, you simply weren’t in it for the money. Instead you were trying to appeal to the people of the Devildom. You thought that maybe if you showed yourself to the public more, if you were viewed as more than Lord Diavolo’s fiancée, that people would see you as more than a lowly gold digger who’s dried up money drove her to any length possible to continue the lavish life that she’d lived.

So you got a job at one of your favorite restaurants: Hell’s Kitchen. A constantly busy, understaffed restaurant that was always looking for new employees.

Often times you ended up serving your oldest friends; Beelzebub, Belphegor and occasionally the other brothers when they would tag along. After joining the Hell’s Kitchen team, you were surprised at how quickly everybody, even the customers, had welcomed you to what some pessimistically teased you as calling “The lower world.” However, Beel’s words were at the front of your mind when people said such things to you.

“Don’t worry about them. They don’t matter. More people here like you than dislike you.”

After a month now of working daily at Hell’s Kitchen, you’d grown accustomed to the working life; you’d grown fond of the regulars and even made friends with most of your coworkers, as fleeting as some of them may be. After some time, it seemed at the rumors were slowly dying off. That your plan to get people to realize you were in it for the long run with the entirety of the Devildom was working.

However you weren’t ready to leave the place you’d joined almost reluctantly a month ago. You felt like you were at home when you were at Hell’s Kitchen. As much as you missed getting in bed with Diavolo and instead coming home after he was already asleep, you were enjoying the time you spent with other people.

But that didn’t mean that you weren’t sometimes more exhausted than normal when you returned back to the place that you called home with Diavolo. With a yawn, you leaned back into the dining room chair and rubbed your tired eyes. You quickly opened them and sent a smile at Barbatos as he poured you a warm cup of your favorite, sweet smelling tea and set it in front of you.

“Thank you, Barbatos.”

“Of course,” he said politely. “You seem more worn out than usual tonight, if you don’t mind me saying.” You took a sip of your tea and nodded before speaking.

“Today was extremely busy and two people quit yesterday so more tables than normal were left up to me alone.”

“Is that why you had to work more hours?” He inquired as he used a feather duster on the shelf by the window, though he was clearly listening as he worked.

“Yes, that’s why I went in early and stayed late. But I don’t want to complain, I saw Beel and Mammon today as well as a few other regular customers and their families. I got some very generous tips today. I think that I’ll give them to Mammon, he’s always complaining about what he owes in debt, though I have my doubts he’d use this money to settle them and instead he’d most likely buy something that will end up laying on the floor sometime soon.” You added the last bit with a soft laugh.

“Is all of this exhaustion, worth it?” He asked, catching your attention. You sent him a confused frown.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if you don’t mind, it seems as if you’re rather exhausting yourself further than needed for some small rumors.” With a small gasp, you opened your mouth to speak but quickly shut it. The air was thick for a moment before a familiar tone broke it.

“Barbatos is right.”

“Young Lord.�� Barbatos greeted Diavolo with a smile and a gentle bow.

“Diavolo—“ You spoke, but your fiancé raised a hand to silence you and took the seat across from you.

“You’re beyond exhausted.” Barbatos grabbed another cup and pored Diavolo a cup of steaming tea before he quietly excused himself from the room. “This isn’t the same part-time gig that you told me you were looking for."

“Diavolo, you don’t understand— I’ve invested myself in Hell’s Kitchen. I know the customers, I know the chef’s— I’m one of the only servers left. I can’t leave.”

“I’m not asking you to leave. I’m asking you to take it less seriously.” You frowned lightly and took another sip of your tea.

“I can’t take it less seriously; that’s not how I know how to work. That’s not how I do these things.” Diavolo gave a soft sigh and reached a hand across the table, offering comfort for you that you easily gave into.

“Barbatos is right, my darling. You’re exhausted. You’re working long hours. I permitted this when you were only working a few hours a day to show the people of the Devildom that you weren’t simply using me to get somewhere higher,” you flushed and looked down, unaware that Diavolo had known your plot all along, “However this has gone too far. You’ve more than proven yourself.”

“I should have known that you would see right through me,” you said with a sigh.

“I hear the rumors. I see the way that you slowly started to let it in. You suddenly taking a job at Hell’s Kitchen wasn’t surprising, but I didn’t think that it would go so far.” He stood, keeping ahold of your hand and helping you up out of your chair. “Come now, my love. Let’s get you to bed.”

“Let me clean up real quick—“ You started, however Barbatos was quickly behind you gathering the cups.

“You’re going to replace me if you keep cleaning up after yourself,” he said with a small smile. “I’ll handle the cleaning tonight.”

“Thank you, Barbatos,” Diavolo spoke, gently tugging you along to the stairs to head to your shared bedroom. “Come now. Let’s get to bed.” Sighing, you followed the man with no complaint. Things were silent on your way to the bedroom. He opened the door for you, closed it behind himself, and crossed his arms while you sat on the end of the bed. “Be honest with me.” There was no strict guidelines. He knew that there was more on your mind than you were letting on. You had never known that you were so predictable in his eyes.

“I am.”

“There’s things you’re neglecting to tell me. Not hiding, not lying about, but neglecting. I’d like you to be honest with me.”

“Oh Diavolo… why do you have to know me so well.”

“In this moment, I believe that’s your saving grace.” He sent you a gentle smile as he spoke. “My love, what’s going on?” Gently, the man sat beside you on the end of the bed and placed a warm hand on your shoulder. “I just don’t think that you’ve been yourself lately.”

“I have been.” With a sigh, Diavolo stood again.

“One of these days, I’ll get your guard down. For now, come lay with me.” Your fiancé stripped his jacket off, not bothering to put it away like he usually does. Diavolo took his shoes off and pulled the thick comforter back, laying beneath the sheets on the bed and offering an arm for you as you slowly stood up. You gave in, laying on the bed with the man and moving against his side. “How was work today then? You were gone an awfully long time.”

“It was so busy,” you started, though minding your words carefully. You didn’t want to complain; Diavolo had the entirety of the Devildom on his shoulders, you felt wrong complaining about anything to him. Especially since you knew that he would only make you feel listened to and be there for you. It made you feel selfish to think about. “But it was a good day— Beel and Mammon stopped by for a little while near the end of my shift. I had a quick snack with them before they left when it was closing time. A couple regulars came in, some with their family.”

“It sounds like it was quite crowded today.”

“Extremely.”

“Are your feet tired? Would you like me to rub them for you? I can only imagine that it wasn’t very comfortable to be standing and running around all day in your work shoes.”

“I can’t complain too much.”

“You never do.”

“Well— that’s not true. I complain.”

“Very rarely.”

“There’s nothing to complain about.” Diavolo gave a quiet chuckle and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“You always say that. You know, even optimists can have rough days that they need to complain about,” you frowned and went to speak, but he quickly cut you off “— maybe complain isn’t the right word. Maybe vent is the appropriate term.”

“I have a good life. I’m happy.”

“Then even happy people can have rough days.”

“I really don’t have anything that deserves to be complained about.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” He asked with a small frown.

“It supposed to mean that you have the entire Devildom looking up to you and Barbatos has the future and the past in his eyes, and he’s constantly working all day long. Lucifer has his brothers that he’s always looking after and Levi and Belphegor are extremely misunderstood and they need help.”

“I see. You feel like your problems are not justifiable. Is that it?”

“No, I just… do we have to keep talking about this?” You frowned., your temper growing short “It’s been a long day and I don’t want to have this conversation.” With another quick kiss to your forehead, Diavolo spoke.

“We can talk about it later.” With a huff, you nuzzled into his shoulder.

“Will you just let it go?”

“Absolutely not.” He spoke the words that you knew you were going to hear, one’s that you already heard in your mind before you even finished your sentence. “Maybe I do have the entire Devildom on my shoulders, but you are my first priority. And if you think that life is stressful for me, you’re incorrect. I love my position. Barbatos knows that when he’s tired, he can take a break. Lucifer loves his brothers. Belphegor is growing closer to his brothers and Levi is warming up to people. Everything is okay with everybody else right now. And if everything with you is not okay, then it won’t be okay until we fix it, and that is okay.”

“I hate that you’re always so encouraging.” A laugh left the man as he rubbed your shoulder.

“No you don’t. You hate that you’re just wrong this time around.” He quickly teased you. “Now, please, promise me that you’ll open up to me soon. It doesn’t have to be tonight, maybe not even tomorrow. Maybe not even a week from now. But you can talk to me. We’re not engaged because we neglect to tell the other what tires us.”

“I don’t want to be a burden.” You spoke softly.

“Never.” He spoke in a quiet tone. “Never could you be a burden. Certainly not to me. Now ease your minds of such futile worries and rest your head on me now. Good girl. Get some rest now. I’ll be here for you whenever you’re ready to talk.”

#obey me #obey me x female reader #obey me x female reader fluff #obey me x reader #obey me x reader fluff #obey me diavolo #obey me diavolo x female reader #obey me diavolo x female reader fluff #obey me diavolo x reader #obey me diavolo x reader fluff #obey me imagines #obey me stories #obey me shorts #obey me lord diavolo

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abilouwrites · 8 months

Text

HOW YOU GET THE GIRL

Mat Barzal x fem!oc reader

Series Masterlist

Two

I dont like when guys ask me out, because the answer is always no. And the answer never changes; and I doubt it ever will. My coworkers are all married or in a relationship with someone even at the bookstores. Hell, the sixteen-year old has had a boyfriend longer than I've been working there.

For a time I believed it to be asexuality, but thats not what it was. I still think; dream and hope for someone to love me, but thats just what I don't want. I used to be able to see myself getting married to someone; when I was nine and didn't know how horrible my parents marriage was to each other.

When I was nineteen I thought something was wrong with me, I was stuck in the thought that I was unloveable. I want to date; dating would be fun. But dating leads to marriage and to me. Marriage means being trapped, and I don’t do being trapped.

The guy from last week comes in again, a little more flushed and with a friend this time. He’s nervously chewing his lip and looking over at his friend for reassurance, “no dude, chicks dig Romeo and Juliet, I’m sure that’ll get you a yes” I overhear a tall bald guy say as he assuringly pats or slaps the brunettes back.

His hands are shaking as he gently places the hardback copy of Romeo and Juliet, “just this” he quietly mumbles looking down at the cover, “have you read it?”

“Yeah, a few times but I’ve never been to fond of that kinda romance” I reply as what I assume his friend shakes his shoulder in a brocode way I have yet to understand.

“Really?” His voice pitches up, “w-what you uh— uh why?” He frantically questions his entire face pales

“Uh oh, I really hope you’re not setting a date on Romeo and Juliet for christs sake” I murmur, “not speaking for every girl but, it felt too quick. How can you know if you really love someone in just barely a week” I clarify, “I just” I shrug not finishing my thought, “do you still want to get it?”

“Uh.. maybe” he looks down and taps his thumbs against the counter, “what romance books do you recommend?”

I grin, wide and toothy because this is my favorite question and thing to ever talk about, “oh boy am I glad you asked. Liz, will you cover me?” I request and she nods.

I take his hand and lead him to the classics, Jane Austen, Emily Brönte, Charles Dickens. “A lot of these are like classic books but Jane Austen is really the one you want to woo a girl”

“I’m very positive no one says ‘woo’ anymore” his friend juts in and Mat as I remember faintly; gives him a dirty look.

“Whatever. Pride and prejudice is my all time favorite” I say; gently pulling my baby out of her shelf.

“Wow.. I think my sister’s made me see the movie” He faintly says; I can barely hear anything over the beat of my heart.

“Which version?” I ask nervously

“I think the 2005 version” and I almost sigh in relief, “is that good”

“Very. Very good”

He smiles at me and his friend nods as I lead them back to the register, “that’s everything right?” I ask scanning the books

“Yes, uh yeah” He smiles nervously and goes back to chewing his lip, “you know how the uh New Jersey Devils are playing against the Islanders tomorrow night?” He asks handing me his card

“Yeah… Why?”

“I uh, I’ve got by the ice tickets and I was gonna have one of my friends come with me but he— his wife just had their baby so you know.. and you like hockey and I like hockey so it might be— nice if you wanted to go with me?” He blabs out, nearly gasping for breath after finishing, then he continues, “you don’t have to come— obviously I know it’s last minute and you probably have plans with someone or uh yeah..”

“No.. I don’t have plans tomorrow night”

“Great— I mean not great that you don’t have plans but great that you can come with me” He nervously chides

I laugh and smile, “I would really, really love to go to the game with you” I confess.

“Yay, just uh do you get breaks?” He asks

“Yeah, I’m just about due for a break”

We stand outside together; his poor friend long forgotten, “what’s going on?” I ask sitting at one of the small tables and drinking some tea.

“Ok uh, I..” He flushed and puts his head in his hands, “I won’t be sitting with you.. I’ll be on the ice…”

“Oh. Wait what?” I ask, looking up at him as he tangles his hands into his hair, “what do you mean you won’t be sitting with me?”

“I’m not just a hockey fan. I play. Hockey I play on the Islanders.. those who have girlfriends or wives get to invite them to games and I know we’re not- I’m not implying that but uh you like hockey and I thought it might be nice” he chokes out

“Ok so— what?” I gasp out, “I didn’t think you were much a joker” I’m fighting back laughter

“I’m serious”

“Oh”

“Its totally fine if you don’t want to come anymore but uh. Yeah” he shrugs rubbing his eyes nervously and chewing his lip cracked.

“I mean.. I haven’t been to a game in a while… so.. yeah that would be nice” I shrug

He sighs a big sigh and nearly flips the table with his weight before righting it.

“Can I get your number then? So I can pick you up.. I’ll bring you a jersey” He requests sliding his phone out

“Yea” I pick his phone up and type my number in, setting my contact name and typing in a hello with his name.

“I will see you.. at 5 thirty ish?” He asks, “and don’t worry about eating before, actually maybe eat a bit but I want to take you out to dinner after”

I smile and brush my hair out of my face, “should I wear leggings? Jeans?”

“Uh.. long pants probably, jeans would look good”

“Thank you, I will see you tomorrow night”

“It’s a date”

And I don’t have the heart to tell him that it’s not.. because I’m too scared to fall in love. Or to even risk it.

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oddverse · 12 days

Text

On the subject of my library of alexandria level loss i wanted to post a little bit i had saved on the computer-

working title 'Don't Talk (Put Your Head on My Shoulder)'

September, 2000

Bzzt!

'bro!' 2:21

'try and come over later!' 2:21

Prosciutto is already rolling his eyes at the small cellphone, Pesci knows just how much the pet names peeve him off ;"bro!", "dude!", "dawg!", etc. etc.!

Uff!

'Not even a capitalization either…'

He ought to ignore the message outright just to spite him, but they both know he's not going to do that. He'd never act like it around the rest of the squad but Pesci knows just how fond his "Bossman" is of him. Prosciutto huffs in defeat at that, testing the call button with his thumbnail, he wants to know just what his coworker has planned for tonight.

Ring~ ring~ ring~ ring ~

Ring~ ring~ ri-

Tch!

Clap! Snapping the phone shut!

'I bought him the damned thing so he'd use it!'

Tossing the little brick out of his sight, landing it somewhere on the living rooms futon, he abandons the source of frustration turning his attention to himself and making for the bathroom mirror now. He expects a little more attentiveness from his 'student'. Leaning into the glass and scanning his face for any blemish he might miss. He scoffs aloud at the thought, finally removing hair pins set from the night before.

'Student! That mama's boy is a head taller than me!'. Blonde locks falling after each pin.

It was actually about twelve cm, but that mohawk he sports could give him the extra dozen to make it so, dwarfing near everyone in the room. Though, Pesci was tall when they first met, maybe not quite as broad then, you'd never be able to tell back then with how much the young man hunched and hid behind his own size. 'How disappointing…' was all Prosciutto could recall.

Risotto was not too fond of taking in another stray after he had just gotten Melone, their previous newbie, settled in and going solo. Even if he already had the stand, even if he had landed right into their palms, Nero was nothing if not selective.

"This is not the YMCA."

"The Squadra has no room for a common thug."

"We have just weened that new one off of Gelato."

"No."

The sheer potential swayed their capo in the end, perhaps worn down by Prosciuttos insistence. It was better that way, rid the chance of meeting again with the competition.

"If I do this it is your responsibility to have him aware of what we are, what we do, and what will be expected of him in the future, I will set up the apprenticeship but after that this will be your project alone. I will not tolerate failure on either part."

Prosciutto remembers the delight in his face. His very own project.

Oblivious to the smile appearing from the memory, he's near finished with his own coiffure, both hands working behind his head to twist and pin the last of his hair into the several tight buns, not a strand out of place. Subtle pride swelling at a job well done. Pesci once said he recognized it, the style, what he was going for that is, from a magazine he'd seen some time ago. Gucci or Versace, he couldn’t quite remember, but that was enough to intrigue Prosciutto, Pesci wasn't incorrect and similar tastes could spell good team work, synergy. Perhaps it did work since now he's watching himself in the mirror get ready for a playdate he hasn’t even accepted invitation from yet. 'Sucker.' he thinks, no he's got a better one. ‘More like hook, line, and sinker.'... Clever…

#jojos bizarre adventure #pesci #prosciutto #propesci #more to come from this erg but my heart wants it finished

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mahs-dumpster · 5 months

Text

a/n: this is supposed to be a small vignette story for this drawing I made-- anyways posting this and running away

contents: oc x canon

tagging: @viilpstick bc I told u I would write this

“Perse, someone left you a flower.” Vil said as he observed his friend and devoted fan get to class. As the girl set her school bag beside her chair she stared at the flower with curiosity, picking it up to examine its delicate petals. “Any idea who it is from?”

“...no.” she said, though her tone was rather distant as she stared at the plant. “It's a pomegranate flower. My favorite.”

“The person must know you well, then. I had no idea, since you're fond of flowers in general.”

“Yes. It's been my favorite ever since I was young.” She grabbed a book and pressed the flower between its pages, trying to make sure the flower would stay with her for a while.

Perse sat down, fixing her hair and putting her book away. “I suppose whoever it is won't be stupid enough to try it again.”

“Why, do you not like secret admirers?”

“No. It's cowardice in my opinion. Sending someone gifts anonymously because they don't have the guts to talk to me in person.” She frowned and sighed. “I’m sorry for bothering you so early with this. I do hope you don't mind, Dahlia.”

“And there we go with those nicknames of yours…” Vil sighed with a slight smile on his face. “Well, do tell me if you ever find out who this admirer of yours is. I’m rather curious to know who this coward could be.”

As Vil went back to check on his makeup before the teacher arrived, Perse stayed quiet, deep in thought as she frowned slightly while remembering the flower.

•••

“Perse Achillea! Someone gifted you a flower!” Little Ortho’s voice was heard by the girl who had been way too focused on her game to notice the flower that had been put in front of her door. She took her headphones off and walked towards the door which Ortho had previously walked — well, flew — by, and said flower was in the robot’s hand.

A pomegranate flower. Yet again.

Perse picked up the flower from his hands and stared at it, her eyebrows frowning at that. “I thought he would’ve given up. I clearly didn't make any effort to meet him.”

“Him? Do you happen to know who he is?” the boy questioned, curious but also a bit sad. Ortho was sure Perse and his brother were meant to be! But now this happens…

“No.” Perse quickly says, leaving the flower on her desk and going back to her game, headphones on. “I don't care anyway. I'm not interested in whoever is sending me these.”

“But for him to send you a flower, it must mean he cares about you.” Ortho makes a point, getting closer to her and taking her headphones off, making the girl complain as he held it high as he floated. He laughed at that and Perse couldn’t be mad at Ortho of all people. “I mean, it even has a note.”

“A note?” Perse questions, her curiosity coming back. “Why didn't you tell me before? Where is it, Ortho?”

“Well… I can give it to you, but!” He lifted a finger, still holding her headphones on his other arm. “I want permission to call you big sis for a week.”

“Ortho, we’ve talked about this.” Perse sighs and massages her forehead.

“I know, but please! It's not that big of a deal! I mean I'm- I'm not even my big brother’s actual brother anyway.” the younger one argued, and Perse felt her heart break upon hearing those words.

Ortho was someone she cared deeply, even if this Ortho wasn't… well, you know. Still, despite being a robot he was considered a Shroud, and Shrouds and Achilleas… they weren't meant to be anything but “coworkers”. They couldn't be anything but “master and servant”. Anything other than that was wrong. It doesn't matter how much she appreciates Ortho, how much she loved how kind and warm he was, how loving and affectionate he could be… it was… wrong.

“Ortho, listen…”

“Please.”

As she stared at his big yellow eyes, Perse's defenses began to go down, her walls began to break — well, just a bit. Her logical side was still very much present.

Perse sighed and scratched her neck. “Not a week, four days. For days of calling me that, no more.” Ortho threw himself at the girl, his metal arms seemed to crush her in a hug and it was a bit painful, but it didn't matter how much she complained Ortho kept hugging her and pulling her in his arms. Perse let herself chuckle at that. “Ok, ok, fine! Now give me the note and my headphones!”

Ortho giggled and quickly put the headphones on her head, grabbing the note he found with the pomegranate flower soon after. Perse got the note and unfolded it, only to loudly groan at it.

“What? What is it, big sis?”

“Nothing. Just whoever this is being an utter idiot.”

Perse threw the note in the air, seemingly not caring about it anymore and going back to her game. Her eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as her movements with the mouse and keyboard were fast and stronger than necessary, indicating a bit of anger.

Ortho grabbed the note mid air, and not being able to resist he unfolded the piece of paper, blinking in confusion at what was written:

‘Sorry. You're the smartest person I know.’

•••

“Uh… Persie?” Cater calls his best friend, making her stop at the middle of the hallway to see a drone carrying a bouquet of, you guessed it, pomegranate flowers. The drone came just close enough to let go of the bouquet, quickly falling right into Perse's arms as she looked at it in shock. She saw a note just like last time falling with the flowers, and she quickly grabbed it. Cater whistled at that, impressed. “Dang, whoever this dude is, he's going above and beyond to get your attention, Persie. I’d given him a shot if I were you.

“Yeah, and end up with someone petty and dishonest?” She mumbled, rolling her eyes, but Cater was able to hear it and he lifted an eyebrow at that.

“Come on, he’s probably not like that!”

“...yes he is.” She frowns, giving Cater the bouquet and the note. “Stay with it, I'm not interested. You can throw them away, I don't care.”

The girl left and even when Cater called to her she didn't look back, he looked at the bouquet and the note without knowing what to do. He glanced at the note and wondered if he should read it… I mean… Perse did say she wasn't interested…

Cater couldn't handle his curiosity and unfolded the note, reading quickly what was inside. He tilted his head in confusion not only because of the contest but because of the writing. He was sure he had seen it somewhere…

The red head looked at the drone who still stood there, as if it had been heartbroken by the scene that unfolded. Cater gave the object the bouquet back and put the note in between the flowers. “Sorry lil’ buddy. Better luck next time.”

And Cater left, and soon after the drone did too, but towards a different direction: towards Ignihyde dorm.

As Perse finally got back to her room after her club activities with Vil and Ortho, she saw the same bouquet of flowers in front of her door, the note right in the middle of it. The tan girl heavily sighed, and picked the note, unfolding it to read what it had to say this time.

‘The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you.’

Perse looked at the flowers and back to the note, sighing once again in defeat. She got the bouquet and brought it back inside, putting it in a vase she had laying around and leaving the note right beside it. Perse softly let her fingers caress the petals of each flower, a now determined look on her face.

•••

“So…” Ortho trailed off as he waited for his brother to begin his updates. “When were you gonna tell me you were big sis’s secret admirer?”

Idia nearly fell when he heard the younger boy’s question. The ends of his fiery hair turned pink in an instant as his face followed suit, and he held his tablet closer to his chest as if to protect himself.

“B-big sis? A-admirer??” He repeated, still not believing what his ears heard. “Sheesh, Ortho, no! I–I could never. That's extremely cringe. I mean in general I–I couldn't but– especially because it's… because it's Perse…” he felt his face burning up and he knew his hair was way pinker now. Ugh. Why. Why did feelings exist?

“Big bro, please, I recognized your writing on one of her notes.” Ortho stated. “You don't need to lie to me, you know? I know you’ve been in love with her ever since you were young.”

“I’m not-” Idia frowned in embarrassment. “I'm- I’m not in love with her! I-I mean she's beautiful- I mean, she's attractive- I mean, objectively speaking she's attractive you know like if you put a gun to my head and asked ‘hey is Perse Achillea attractive?’ I'd say yes of course she is because if I didn't I'd be lying but she's not only attractive I mean she's also incredibly smart and funny and fun to be around and she knows all the games I play and listens to me ramble for hours even though she probably does this out of pity you know but anyway I feel like I'm talking a lot am I talking a lot?”

“Yes. Yes, you are.” the younger one wasn't surprised in the slightest. That's his brother for ya. “Why are you taking the initiative now?”

“I'm not- I'm not taking the initiative, I'm not trying to flirt with her, I would never.” Idia mumbled, looking elsewhere with a pout. “We… We had a fight. A big one. I still think she was the one in the wrong-” lies. He was totally in the wrong. “-but regardless I… maybe I was a bit too harsh on her… I just want to apologize and she loves pomegranate flowers so…”

“You're gifting her her favorite flowers to apologize?”

“Yeah… but she seems to be avoiding me more now that I’m sending them…” he sighed. “She probably thinks it's gross.”

“No. She thinks you're a coward.”

“Ortho!”

“I said that's what she thinks.”

“It is what I think.” Both brothers jumped at the sudden female voice that popped out of the blue. There, walking towards them, wearing her uniform and all was the subject of their conversation. Perse made her way to Idia as he started internally panicking. "So, you've got something ya wanna tell me?" She crossed her arms as Idia looked at Ortho, mentally asking for help, but unfortunately for him the little boy was on Perse's side now, so he just shrugged.

"Well... You shouldn't be eavesdropping on someone else's conversation."

"Idia for sevens's sake." Perse frowned, getting even closer to him, cornering the taller one between her and a table. "What do you have to tell me?"

He stayed silent, his eyes drifted elsewhere, not being able to hold her gaze. He held his tablet with more strength now, as if that somehow would make this situation go by quicker. Perse sighed.

"Of course you don't. I was stupid for even thinking you did." She turned around, meaning to go back to her room thinking she had decided to meet him for nothing, but before she could, Idia suddenly felt the courage — after being pinched by his brother — to say something.

"Wait." She stopped, still not facing him. Idia clicked his tongue. "I didn't mean to- I didn't- I'm sorry." She turned, crossing her arms. She wasn't satisfied, she needed more. Idia groaned but complied. "I'm sorry for not listening to you when you clearly warned me about our research. I'm sorry for being petty and for lying that I would do as you asked but in the end I didn't. And I'm sorry that our progress was ruined because of that."

Perse stared at him for a few seconds, then smiled. Still, she wanted to hear one more thing, and she made it known with the movement of her head. Idia went pink.

"And... I need you." She blinked, and Ortho put his metallic hand on where his mouth should be. Idia looked at the two quickly realizing how he sounded and fixing it right after: "to help me!! That's what I meant by it!"

Perse giggled at that, having fun at his expense. "Well, you did give me flowers. One could think you had other intentions..." She said in a flirtatious tone, and Idia quickly turned around towards his brother, desperately needing this conversation to be over.

“A-anyways! Ortho, come on, let me update you.”

“Oh, uh- sure.” Ortho said, flying towards his brother and giving one last look towards Perse who still stood there, amused by all this. The girl decided to go back to her room though, after all, she had already gotten what she wished for.

As she finally got there, she noticed right in front of her door a small vase with yet another pomegranate flower. She took the vase and examined it as she got inside the room. It had a purple bow around it, no note in sight, but she knew all too well who had sent it to her. Must’ve sent it earlier that day, huh…

Perse giggled as she smelled the flower, in awe at its beautiful vibrant color. “I can't believe he remembered. After all those years he still knows my favorite flower?” She smiled softly at the plant, running her fingers through its petals. Upon realizing what she was doing however, her smile dropped, sighing heavily, disappointed with herself. “You’d think I'd be over him by now.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland idia #twst idia #oc x canon #oc x idia #twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #💌! perse

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annasinterests · 10 months

Text

'cause you know it's you, babe

|| main masterlist ||

a/n: maybe it’s just because i’m in my feels right now that’s basically forcing me to write this up on the fly (kinda bc i be gettin distracted), but i’ve been really thinking about soft!joel and just finding such comfort in it. also this is barely proof-read and it’s past 2am so pls overlook any errors thanks love u all <3 also joel gif to reflect the mood/vibe

word count: 1k (awe)

pairings: joel miller x reader

warnings & tags: nothin but fluff n' luv for my beloved 🤍

joel miller. a mysterious, yet highly respected figure for his efforts towards jackson. there’s not a whole lot known about him, besides the fact that he’s related to tommy, and that he, you, and ellie basically belong to one another.

with settling, he realized that he didn’t have to be so strung out all the time. for once, he could take a breather– enjoy a conversation here or there, go for a walk within the safety of the walls.

but slowly, he found more— he found love.

well.. the love was already there. it had always been there. so, the better thing to say would be that he was finally allowing himself to love.

and the person in question? you.

when he first comes to terms with it, he’s shy– scared, even. the concept of that kind of intimacy is foreign to him at this point, but he forces himself to push forward, because life was short before, and it can be cut even shorter now.

and he’s got a lot of of catching up to do

it starts off small– brushing arms and shoulders in group settings. he doesn’t need a reason to be with or close to you, it’s simply because he just wants to be. in the rare occurrence that you’re not together, the minute he sees you, he’s glued to your hip for the rest of the time being. and after a while, you start becoming this official package that people grow to notice.

he appreciates being crammed in the corner of a booth next to you during the weekly get-togethers at the Tipsy Bison with coworkers because it’s one of the very few times where he doesn’t have to do much to get you pressed against him. in fact, he takes advantage of it, going a step further and throwing an arm around your shoulders to “make more space”. the act is bold but it works because you don’t hesitate for a second to get closer to him.

he opens the door for you wherever you go and pulls out the chair for you before you sit down– both acts never done without an accompanying hand on your lower back. when you walk side-by-side, he intertwines your fingers or gestures so that you hold his arm, a subtle yet loud display of affection that solidifies your relationship.

during slow songs, he dances with you on the floor even if you’re the only pair out there, putting aside his own aversions because there’s nothing better than having you in his arms. he radiates a warmth that you can’t help but be more drawn to him, every touch and glance at one another making your heart flutter with an incomparable fondness. he melts into you– the tension that stresses his body just about everywhere instantly rids itself once he’s got you close, knowing that you’re with him and you’re safe.

after long days, he finds solace in you– one of the few people he holds close to his heart. once he comes home and finds you in the kitchen making dinner, he curls his body around yours and rests his chin on your shoulder, watching as you continue to go about cooking and placing gentle kisses on your cheek. you know the best way to cheer him up, besides a home-cooked meal, is to offer to play with his hair or brush his beard, which he always takes you up on and pulls you into his lap for you to work your magic.

over time, it only gets better.

you have late nights on the porch together, sometimes graced by the presence of a new guitar of his. most of the time, there’s a bottle shared between you both that’s used between conversation and kisses under the stars. he smiles wide and his cheeks burn a deep shade of red, a sight that he isn’t likely to let anyone else see, but one that he can’t and won’t hide from you.

his bed becomes yours, and he wonders how he went so long without having you next to him every night. in some way, shape, or form, you’re always tangled with one another; legs and arms strewn over the other. and more often than not, you wake up to his chest pressed against your back, his arms curling tighter around you when you attempt to get up because he wants every second possible with you.

he gazes at you with those lovey eyes, always caught between wanting to outright profess his love for you and wanting to admire you in silence out of fear that he’ll just screw everything up because there’s truly not enough words he could string together to ever accurately describe just how much you mean to him.

he swears to himself that it doesn’t get better than this– you’re basically his, and he’s basically yours, right? what else could there be?

clearly, he didn’t think about you professing your love first.

you were sitting on the couch when the words nonchalantly left your lips, causing him to abruptly sit up from where his head was on your lap. he didn’t know what to do, but knew he needed to do something to let you know that it very much went both ways. he looks at you nervously until you’re done, immediately kissing you and engulfing you with his arms once you’re done.

and, oh, is he so in love.

he mumbles ‘I love you’s between breaths and can feel it in the tears that are slowly brimming in his eyes. he kisses you softly but passionately, overwhelmed by all the emotions going through him at finally admitting what had been there all along– and nothing has ever felt more right in the world.

his love is everywhere you look– being able to sink into it all and feeling it wrap around you.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #tlou #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #annasmasterlist #annawrites #anna may or may not still be in her feels

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writingsbychlo · 10 months

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i agree that nesta needed to actually apologise to the IC, but what about them? dont they have some apologising to do to her too? its not like they were all saints who never provoked her or said/did something when she was quiet. feyre was the only one completely innocent when it comes to nesta. but amren, mor, rhys, and cassian??

I never said they didn’t have apologising to do too 😅 they definitely do. they shouldn’t have forced her to do anything, and quite frankly, I wouldn’t have. I get why she was forced to go and train with cassian for the plot, but let’s be honest about how things would have been realistically:

feyre and elain reach out constantly to nesta, invite her to events, which she barely attends if ever if she’s not being bribed over her rent money.

cassian reaches out, constantly, only to be hurt and upset and shut out every single time.

nesta takes dealing with her trauma into her own hands by sitting in tubs of freezing waters and enduring the sound of fires, and lets nobody in about what’s bothering her.

she continues to spend a lot of the courts money on alcohol, and for whatever reason, this is not unacceptable to rhys and feyre.

if she wasn’t cassian’s mate and there didn’t need to be a plot for a book, it would have been one page over and done like this:

“you’re going to train with cassian.”

“I don’t want to.”

“fine, then get a job on your own and pay for your own unhealthy habits. because we’re cutting you off. you never come and see us, you’re ungrateful, you’re mean, and you don’t act like family so why should we treat you like family? you’ve made it very clear you want nothing to do with us, so off you go. stay in this court, go to another court, you do you. bye.”

“fine, about time you got off my back.”

and the book would have ended.

so, they all definitely owe her some apologies. they forced her to deal with her trauma in a way that suited them when she was handling it how she wanted to. she has an immortal life span, she would’ve cracked under the weight of knowing everyone was starting to hate her; she would have eventually processed it all.

they just wanted her to heal on their timeline, not her own, and I think that is unacceptable too. it’s one of the things that just ruins the cass and nes dynamic for me in ACOSF.

so yes, they definitely owe her apologies too. they’re not innocent and she’s not the one bad guy, it’s just that I don’t condone the way she treats them. they went about it all wrong, but in the end, they did just want to help her. in the end, they used the wrong methods trying to show their love. she actively set out to hurt and upset people at every possible chance she got to validate her own hurt and upset. I get that you’re in pain nesta, but that doesn’t give you the right to put everyone else in pain too. it ruined nesta’s character for me, who I was pretty fond of up until then.

I think ACOSF should have gone more like this:

feyre and rhys tell nesta she has to go and train, or she’s cut off. nesta gets mad, tells them fine, she’ll make it on her own, she doesn’t need any of them, matter of fact it’ll be a relief to be left alone because she never wanted this happy little fae life anyway.

nesta attempts to make it on her own, but she struggles a lot. she gets a crappy job that leaves her no time to drink her troubles away or meet anyone, she’s barely making ends meet. this sucks. plus, all she hears is gossip about the happy little high lord and lady and their baby on the way, cassian and azriel and the inner circle, and rolls her eyes when her coworkers can’t see, they don’t know who she is.

she wants her free rent money back so she can go back to drinking all night sleeping all day. she hits rock bottom after having a panic attack one night after a nightmare etc, and gets the grand idea. the idea that all she has to do is pretend to show a little effort at training but ultimately make it seem like “oh no, it’s not working, well at least we tried!” and everything goes back to normal.

when she goes to talk to feyre and rhys, rhys tells her hell she can climb the stairs to the HoW and ask cassian if he’s still willing herself, it’s not their call to make.

“fine I will.” moment.

crawling her way up 10,000 stairs, she’s a mess, she’s sick, it takes so fucking long and she’s literally crawling when she makes it to the top. cassian heard her coming and is standing there with his arms crossed.

they argue a bit but he agrees to train her. however, he sees right through her and know what she’s aiming for. an easy ride or drinking here and half-assing training before giving up. so, he lays down rules.

no drinking.

you work too, in the library.

you cant leave with me or az.

you want to leave, there’s the stairs. but it took you twenty hours to drag yourself up then this time, so if you want to go out, fine, but if you’re not back in time for training the next morning, deals off.

she is NOT facing those stairs again, so fine. and now we can start into ACOSF events where she meets gwyn and emerie and they train and etc etc. nesta would find herself more and more wanting to actually stay, to be here and be a part of this. cassian and azriel knew her plan all along, as did rhys and feyre. they all saw the state she was in, desperate for a drink and completely broken. if she came to them herself at rock bottom and healed herself, it would’ve been so much better. no need for that moment where she ruins it all for feyre because she’s feeling like being horrid. her and cassian could’ve had a moment hiking in other ways.

hugely less toxic way to do it, where nobody needs to hurt anybody. idk.

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glaivenoct · 7 months

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Hi :) Trick or treat! 🎃🍬

Ask Box Trick or Treat - Fic Edition

Hi there!! Happy hallow and thank you for sending one ^.^

I think I'm going to go with a fic idea for this one! It's not necessarily a new one, but it's one I definitely haven't ever mentioned on the tumblr side. ...I think?

The NyxNoct Furbabies --

I've been on the NyxNoct train since 2017, and in all the years I've spent gushing over these two, I've never been one to care for the idea of giving them kids, even just on their own as individuals or with other ships (if anyone out there likes playing around with those ideas, defos more power to ya, I'm not knocking it <3). At some point in one of my jobs I had a coworker who kept asking me really annoying/invasive questions about me having kids, and I decided I was going to project said annoyance onto NyxNoct. Particularly with Noctis, being an heir to the throne and all, I wouldn't be surprised if he gets asked shit like this all the time. And if I was ever going to indulge in the notion of giving Nyx and Noct kids - it was going to be of the fur variety.

So meet the NyxNoct kids!

Top Right: Nyx's baby, Rogue Bottom Right: Noct's baby, Reed

There isn't necessarily a set story/plot. If anything, this would probably just be a series of silly fluffy one-shots from different scenarios I've rambled into the twitter void over the years. Here's some basics tho!

Reed comes first. Noctis comes across him during one of the adoption events he's volunteering at - except there's no record whatsoever of this little black kitten being a part of the shelter's potential adoptees - all of their kittens are accounted for. He happens to be a random stray nearby, and he seems to be hungry. Noctis, being Noctis, buys a snack and shares with the little guy. He then proceeds to follow Noctis around everywhere. Later that night, when Noct goes to Nyx's place and shows up with the kitten cradled in his arms, Nyx just sighs and says "I knew this was going to happen one day."

Rogue doesn't come along until a few months later. Nyx happens to come across her on his walk home from late night watch duty. It's raining and he finds her as a puppy left in a box by a dumpster in an alleyway. The nearest animal shelter is a bit out of the way, so of course all Nyx can do is wrap the pup up in his coat and take her to Noct's place. Initially, Nyx will have no intentions whatsoever to keep the pup, but very quickly she worms her fluffy way into his heart and he decides he's not going to give her up.

REED: A fluffy black cat with bright blue eyes. Nyx says he looks just like his dad.

Noctis breaks the news to Regis with no context and just "You're a Grandpa now."

Regis is one of Reed's favorite people

Reed's favorite spot to sleep is the crook of Noct's neck. It always looks like he's wearing a scarf of fluff.

Reed and Nyx have a very playful "love-hate" relationship. Nyx often calls him "furball" and swears Reed is plotting against him. (He's fond of him tho, he really is)

Reed's 2nd favorite spot to sleep and/or perch is literally Nyx's butt. Noct thinks it's the funniest thing ever.

When Rogue comes into the picture, Reed seems to be indifferent towards her as playful as she is, but in a couple weeks he is actually very protective and snuggly with her at times. They become two furry partners in crime.

ROGUE: A fluffy australian shepherd with black, gray, white and caramel tones in her coat. Noct thinks its cute that she snores softly just like her dad.

Nyx heavily claims in the beginning that he is Not a Dog Dad, then proceeds to call Rogue "baby girl" when she trots happily towards him.

Rogue becomes the unofficial "glaive mascot" and will accompany Nyx to trainings. She gets lots of love and attention here.

Rogue loves to play fetch, but she has a particular version of fetch she plays with Nyx at times - which is essentially her running towards and jumping on him whenever he warps.

Rogue loves taking morning walks or runs with Nyx in the mornings.

She absolutely throws herself over Nyx and Noctis while they're cuddling because, hello, she would like attention too pls and thank.

Rogue has that younger sibling energy with Reed where she constantly pesters him while he's minding his own business. Reed will act annoyed, but then later that night he will sleep on top of her.

OTHER THINGS:

It doesn't become uncommon to see the royal furbabies around the Citadel, either both with Noct or Rogue with Nyx.

Regis happily refers to both as his grandkids and they are always welcomed to join for lunches/dinners.

Reed has sat in on council meetings. Noct says he's an official council member and his input is very valued.

Prompto is their biggest photographer and Noctis demands every picture.

When Nyx is outside the wall or even stuck on duty or training recruits, nothing makes his day more than getting spammed pics/selfies of Noct with the furbabies.

Rogue & Reed are Nyx's lockscreen, his homescreen is Noct smiling and hugging Rogue while Reed lounges in his lap. Alternatively, Noct's lockscreen is Rogue & Reed together. His homescreen is Nyx, lying face down on the floor. Rogue is standing on one side of him, staring down with clear concern like "dad are u ok? are u alive? dad? dad pls". Meanwhile, Reed is perched on Nyx's butt and staring directly at the camera. The context of the photo? Don't ask, just know it's one of Noct's favorite pics and Nyx hates him for it.

There are also nights where they all fall asleep together in a big cuddle pile. Nyx laying on his back while Noct curls up at his side, Reed curled into the crook of Noct's neck and Rogue at Nyx's side with her head on his belly. They are one happy little family <3

Sorry this one got a little lengthy!

#fic asks #nyxnoct #nyxnoct furbabies

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barely-coherent · 7 days

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Can you write some sam x reader?

A/N: IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, I COULDN'T REMEMBER IF IT WAS SET IN CHICAGO OR NOT. I played through all of Sam's routes again just to get his character down... Being an Erik simp is hard

You hear the front door slam as Sam gets home and you make your way to the foyer. As you watch him slump against the closed door, you sigh and walk towards him.

"Rough day?" You ask and he practically falls into your arms as you open them. He let's out the loudest groan you've heard from him and buries his face into your neck, mumbling about the hardest parts of his day which seemed to be all of it if the length of his rant was anything to go by. You interrupt him mid complaint and drag him to the nearest couch, desperate to stop supporting all his weight on your feet alone.

After a few cups of tea, he was spread across the couch with his head in your lap and your hand in his hair.

"And you had the gall to not visit me once!" He says, poking you in the chest.

You look at him, crossing your arm and raising your eyebrow. "Oh, I'm so sorry that I didn't have time to drive around the entirety of Chicago looking for you." Teasing him gently as you continue stroking his hair.

"You could've called my name." He points out and you stare at him, your hand pausing mid stroke.

"I'm not gonna make you disappear in front of your coworkers. Are you insane?" Your hand continues in gently massaging his scalp, sighing as he crosses his arms.

"You've could've texted me..." You shake your head with a fond smile and squish his cheeks together.

"I'm sorry, is 5 texts per work day not cutting it anymore? Should I bump it up to 6?" He swats your hands away as a flush comes to his cheeks. He stays silent and you take it as your cue to press a kiss to his heated cheek. As his face heats up further, you continue pressing kisses against his face until you're about to press one to his neck and he pushes your face back gently.

"Not the neck! You know the neck is off-limits!" He says, his cheeks heating further as you press kisses against the palm on your face.

"All I'm hearing is your neck is perfect for kissing~!" You tease, trying to get closer but he holds you away with ease.

He tugs his collar up, completely blocking his neck as he lets go of you. "Off limits to civilians." He grins as if he'd won and you pout, looking up at him with your hands clasped together and wide eyes.

"Please?" You beg and he looks away, trying to avoid your pleading gaze until he sighs.

"My neck... is sensitive. This night will end very differently if you go anywhere near it." It takes a few seconds before your face matches his in terms of color and you cover your mouth in shock before delving into a fit of laughter.

"That's why you don't want me by your neck? You don't want me to know your weak spot?" The laughter spills out and he shushes you, his face burning up.

"Shut up! Quiet! I'm going to our room, oh my god!" He walks out of the room, more embarrassed than angry as he hides his head under the pillow, trying to muffle your laughter that echos up the stairs.

#mine.txt #seduce me sam #seduce me #seduce me the otome #seduce me demon war #seduce me 2 the demon war #smto #smto sam #void simps

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udekai · 8 months

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⭐️⭐️⭐️

okay three stars means three passages hell yes!!! they're all from pathetic because that's basically all i've written in the past five months

1.) okay so there's that lame little e-65 ice skating fic i shoved into Pathetic, where Foggy gets a little too used to sitting in his misery and Matt takes him ice-skating? Direct parallel to the fic in the series that came before it where Otomo drags him to his feet to keep him from a depressive episode. That was deliberate on my part.

2.) King of the Dirt, Chapter 26

I am going to say "this is one of my favorite chapters" about every chapter in this fic, but it was genuinely so much fun to write. Help me, I think I've grown attached to a side character. ON THE SUBJECT of Otomo, and his relationship with Matt:

“I don’t care about the district attorney. He’s useless to me. He’s nothing. Garbage. Kaput. Do you get it?”

A few beats of silence passed. Otomo was notoriously stoic, and thus gave no tells as to what he was thinking, but Matt got the sense he was annoyed with him.

“Do you know what it took to convince the Hand to work with you?” he asked abruptly. “I warned you to leave, and you didn’t. I tell you there is a way out, and you will not take it. Are you completely set on killing yourself by our sword?”

“Are you completely set on letting me live?” Matt fired back.

Tells or no, he knew that had touched his pride. Otomo valued nothing more than his station; a better soldier than Matt could ever be.

Imagine you dedicate like a decade of your career to training the rookie at work- he's like, the boss's son. You remember him being in the office when he was like, 14. The corporate loyalty has long since rotted him from the inside out, and although you're not like, The Big Boss, you are high ranking. This place is a nightmare, but it is a very lucrative job, the highest paying you've ever had, that you ever will have, and you will be dead in the ground before you fail.

And then. This little fucker not only gets fired on purpose, he leaves the office in FLAMES on his way out the door. And of course your manager is on your ass about it, your whole career is now in jeopardy, and they send you to go find the little bastard and kill him.

You meet up, and- okay, so you got a little attached. So what? Nobody else makes fun of the CEO like he does. Probably your favorite coworker. And he has the AUDACITY to just... have another job lined up. He's like "Yeah, life's actually amazing when you don't work for The Worst Guys Ever. I'm super happy without them."

You can't bring yourself to kill this guy. You let him live, tell him to run like hell. Corporate is on your ass. The next time you meet after that, you don't have that option. One of you is fucking dead, and it's not gonna be you.

You still can't do it.

The kid survived the worst nightmares your company threw at him. He got out of the "we're family here" trap. You just can't do it.

3.) Thicker Than Blood, Chapter 6

“I’m sure you’ll make a great lawyer someday, Mister Murdock, but-”

“Mister Lancaster,” he soothed, “it is my firm.”

“Matt-” Foggy started.

“Foggy,” he cooed, interrupting him. “Your name belongs on that sign.”

Tears. He didn’t hear them roll over his cheeks, but he knew they were welling at the corners of his eyes. Matt smiled at him, allowing every ounce of genuine, broken fondness he possessed to show through it.

Foggy didn’t have any further arguments.

I'm so proud of this little snippet. I think it's more effective in context, but it's sooooo disturbing to me. Because this is after Matt weasels his way into inheriting Rosalind's firm. The firm that was explicitly not left to Foggy. After Matt killed her, and Foggy knows that, deep down.

Because at this point, Matt is fond of Foggy. He is his specialest boy in the whole wide world and everybody had better clap before he comes in or he'll blow everything up. And Foggy is genuinely grateful for that! He doesn't know what to do about it, because he feels awful, but he's not sad. He's not upset that Matt likes him, he's just fucking terrified of him.

Thank you so much this was really fun <3333333333333333

#e-65 #Earth-65 #Murderdock #DA Nelson #My fics #writing #pathetic #ask

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thedreamwolf · 1 year

Text

I was debating posting this over here, but it felt like it was worth talking about? And who knows, maybe writing it down will help me work through some of it in my own head. Curious to see if anyone else has any experience with stuff like this.

This is a post about grief. Specifically grief over fictional characters. D&D characters, in this case.

I know, I know. Up until today, fiction felt like a silly thing to get really upset over for me. It's not like it has real life consequences. It's not like this was someone I actually knew and have fond memories or spending time with, nobody who knew me or cared about me. The world continues on as if nothing happened. Nobody real died.

But I've had to take some time today to try to figure this out, because if this loss is not real, then why is it hitting with the same harshness as when I actually lost a pet? Something real, something I'd loved and cared for for years?

For context, I'm in a roleplay-heavy dungeons & dragons group with several good friends and my partner. We've been running it for over half a year nearly every week. It deals with some deep stuff. Lots about bonding through adversity, lots about corrupting influences that can warp and break a person, lots about finding the hope and the happiness even when the going gets tough. During last night's session, my and my partner's character found themselves deep in trouble that they've been heading towards for a little while now. And they died.

Do I think it was unfair? No, it was a reasonable and justified end to their arcs. Am I mad at the DM for letting it happen? No, he checked in with us a lot about what we were comfortable with and if this was okay, and for the story, it was. And he did everything he could to make it fair and give us closure. We knew this could happen, this sort of thing has happened before. Am I mad at the friends, the other players, who let this happen? No, not really – they had their own in-character reasons for doing what they did, and they stayed true to them.

Am I mad at myself for letting this happen? A little. Mostly I think about what I could have done differently. It kinda feels like I failed them. Even in giving them a life and a story to be proud of. But mostly I'm just sad.

I was fine when things were actually happening last night. I was so focused on giving them their closure, in finishing our their story. I was engaged in figuring out the next steps for the campaign. But then when I woke up, I broke. And since then, every little thing is setting off a new wave of grief. Like realizing that they'll never see another sunset as I was looking out the window. Or remembering the fun times we had playing them. I had to call out of work this morning because I was such a mess – obviously I couldn't explain exactly why to my boss and coworkers, other than that I'd had an emotional weekend and that me and my loved ones were all okay.

Even though this loss isn't real, it has still majorly affected me enough to impact my daily functioning. So, I'm trying to figure out what I'm actually grieving so I can work through it. Is it all the things they never got to accomplish? Is it the time spent discovering their story with my friends? Did I get too emotionally connected again? Am I actually mad that we couldn't find a different way to resolve things?

Whatever it is, my boyfriend and I are trying to process things as best we can, in our own ways. He's been very supportive and wonderful. I can tell that my group is all a bit shaken up by the loss, we've been chatting together a lot about it today. There are brighter things coming up next for the party. I'm mostly just trying to figure out some healthy coping mechanisms and get back to normal. And also to figure out why it's this strong so that I don't get like this again.

But boy is it weird talking about it and needing to make life concessions to deal with it when I'm so upset over something that isn't even real.

#tw grief #tw loss #it feels silly using those tags for it too #long post #fictional character grief #I know some of our mutual friends follow this blog so please don't bother my party members or dm about it #I don't think any of the party follows me here but if you do hi we're coping #personal post

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cinnamon-notes · 25 days

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[cinnamon's diary, may 8th. part 2]: "how about coffee? do you like coffee?", "only with my oxygen"

I randomly ran into my ex coworker, the one who made me question my sexuality (all's set now) —the one I'd had a crush on for a very long time, the one who eventually ended up crushing me, instead. The narcissistic, toxic, abusive one. The one who traumatized me. The one I'm happy I don't see daily anymore. I was with my friend. He was walking down the street. I smiled and waved. He smiled back and kinda mouthed "hi", then we walked away. It made me think a lot about what we used to be and have, and what we haven't been nor had for a while now. Don't get me wrong, I love that I'm not exposed to such humiliation he'd put me through daily, just to help himself feel superior and better than someone, better than me. I love that I no longer have to endure his controlling habits. But I also loved the sweet intimacy we'd shared before everything went downhill. I loved the tension between us, and I loved how it'd always gotten us to fuck each other without ever even touching each other. It was special, it was one-of-a-kind. It was interesting. Until we drifted apart because of many incompatibilities (and because I eventually began to see the red flags there).

However, from time to time, I still find myself recalling some scenes of that version of us, as if we were a movie I'd rewatched so many times that I can quote most of it by heart, or even reenact it. He used to say I look like Jane Birkin, and I used to say he looks like Serge Gainsbourg— look where it brought them, though... And look where it's brought us. He was drunk, once. And I asked him his thoughts on Jane Birkin. He leaned in and whispered in my ear, "She's been my secret crush ever since I was 12. She's extraordinarily beautiful. Her beauty astonishes me all the time. I've never found a woman that beautiful for that long". And imagine hearing someone say you look like a woman whom they think is so beautiful it's astonishing, and who's been their crush for decades! Maybe not so great feminism-wise, maybe I'd cringe if he told me that now, but at the time it felt empowering, it felt like butterflies all over my body.

He had this annoying habit of taking pictures of me ALL THE TIME. And I hate being photographed. Throughout my life I've only let my father and my ex take consensual pictures of me. Apparently I gotta add him to the list, too. I don't know why he'd take so many stolen pictures of me. But it always made me nervous. And I don't know why I'd always ask to see them once I realized they'd been taken. But it always made him nervous. Do you know that chapter from The Picture of Dorian Gray where Basil can't show his portrait because he fears that he'd put all his feelings for Dorian in the portrait and he fears everyone will notice? It was exactly like that. Every picture pictured (pun was very intended here!) a detail of me that he'd later tell me he was fond of.

Whenever we'd look at each other, you could tell that something was going on, but we always liked to pretend there wasn't. I remember when we had a fight one night. We were sitting on some bench next to each other, and he was making his shitty closed-minded point about triggers, saying "they are fictitious beliefs of one's mind, like religion" rather than accepting they are stimuli, sensorial reminders of traumas, and that they do in fact worsen the symptoms of one's mental condition. And I remember being so mad that I raised my voice, and I always hate raising my voice. And I looked him in the eyes with such an angry stare. And he was smirking. And it made me even more pissed off. And although I was hating him in that specific moment, there just was something in his eyes and in my eyes that easily went beyond lust. And it'd never happened to me before. I'd never had this kind of tension originate from hatred and anger. Always love. Affection, admiration, tenderness, desire. Never anger. It was weird, but it introduced me to a side I didn't know I had within myself. Also, I'd later realize that he was smirking because he was amused at the tension between us.

We didn't just have the sexual tension part of a potential relationship, though. We shared sweet and tender moments, too. We'd quote or reference each other's favorite movies and songs, or flirt and subtly admit our feelings. He'd prank me or be his most annoying self, and then drunkly whisper to my ear that he has such a childish way of flirting, always annoying the person he likes, almost a "pull the braids of that little girl, in my kindergarten class, that I like because this is the only way I know that'll get her attention" kind of flirting. We'd go get ice cream, he'd get some of my favorite flavors that I couldn't get because I couldn't have the whole ice cream factory on my cone, and he'd hand his ice cream to me and say, "I know you want a taste". He'd give me a ride on his bike, and weeks later, while having drinks with our friends and the topic of romance is brought up, he'd admit, "The most romantic thing I've done for a girl was definitely giving her a ride on my bike. I find it extremely romantic. There's never been any other meaning I give to this gesture". And I couldn't understand if he was flirting, admitting everything, or he'd just forgotten and said it carelessly. But he'd always have this way of flirting. When we were alone, he'd be a pain in the ass. When we had company, he'd subtly be the softest version of himself —but we were the only people who knew it.

He'd make fun of me, but then he'd sport terror in his eyes once he learned I'd hurt myself at work, and he'd suddenly show up with a first-aid kit although I literally had nothing major. He'd joke about my weird and quirky habits, but then he'd hand me his scarf because he'd noticed I was shivering. He'd sneak through people, zigzagging between them, when we went to events where they served buffet, and grab some food for me, and let me taste his wine from his glass, but only after he'd tasted it himself first and made sure it was actually good. He'd light my cigarettes, back when I still was a smoker. And I remember loving that proximity. And I remember always taking a peek up at his eyes. And then feeling extremely calm at the thought of being able to look directly at his lips from such a short distance without feeling weird because that was the one time I was allowed to do it and it wouldn't be suspicious. He'd make a joke and look at me to see my reaction. He'd say something in a room full of people and only look at me to try to get a hold of my feelings about what he'd just said. He'd be constantly looking at me. With so many other things and people to look at, he'd always look at me. And his cheeks would always redden when I'd catch him stare.

And I'm glad that the phase where I felt horrible about myself because he'd use me to feel great about himself is over. I'm glad I don't see him anymore. Especially since all the tenderness of those moments probably was somewhat pure, genuine, and intended... But maybe it was corrupted, too.

I'm glad it's over. It's over without it ever starting. I'm glad it never did. But I miss that intimacy. It was nice, it felt nice. Till it lasted.

#this was sitting in my drafts. incomplete. so i finished it and here's me processing yet one more thing.#cinnamon diary #ps: kinda a long one. i apologize.

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