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javierpena-inatacvest · 3 months

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Bonding

Summary: You and Javi just brought your daughter Lucy home from the hospital. While the two of you couldn't be more in love and excited at the addition of your newest family member, it doesn't mean that you both aren't feeling some of the nerves of being first time parents.

Word Count: 2.4K (She's reasonable, your honor)

Pairing: Dad!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n, reader's nickname is Osita)

Warnings: This is honestly just pure, sweet, sickening, fluff, mentions of body insecurity postpartum, worry/anxiety about being a first time parent, Javi snuggling a newborn baby skin on skin (it needs a warning fr), Javi being the cutest dad ever to exist, Javi is in full on dad mode, ladies and gents (gn) 🫡

A/N: This was inspired after reading @kteague adorable post about Frankie carrying his daughter in a baby sling, and I couldn't help but picture sweet Javi as a first time dad cuddling with his baby girl 😭🥺 and to @endlessthxxghts for being a bad influence 💀Y ou know for a fact that Lucy's got Javi wrapped around her finger from the moment she's born, and picturing the adorable bond these two have makes me want to melt into a puddle 🫠 also I have a raging case of baby fever, but let's pretend that wasn't entirely the motive to write this or that I'm not projecting at all WHOOPS

Part of the Forever and Always Series!!

From the moment you had found out you were pregnant, you had no doubt that Javi was going to be nothing short of the best dad you could have ever hoped for. Before your daughter was even born, Javi had completely flipped the switch into full Dad Mode, spending the past 9 months coming with you to every single doctor’s appointment, baby proofing every square inch of your home, and checking out (and re-checking out) every parenting book he could get his hands on at the library.

So it was safe to say, that once you brought Lucy home from the hospital to start your life together as a family of 3, if Javi hadn’t already been full force into Dad Mode, he sure as hell was now, and was going to do anything and everything he could to make sure that the two most important girls in his life were showered with every ounce of love and affection he had.

It was also safe to say that even though he wouldn’t admit it, Javi was also an absolute nervous wreck at the reality that he was now actually a dad to a tiny newborn daughter that had been brought into the world.

“You think that her diaper is snug enough? Should I get a bottle ready just in case she gets hungry? Different pajamas to sleep in before we put her down?” Javi asked, carefully cradling Lucy against his chest as you passed her off to him, planting a soft kiss on her head, gently bouncing her up and down.

“Javi,” You laughed leaning in to give your sleepy daughter a kiss on the messy tufts of hair ruffled on her head before looking back up at your husband, “I’m going to take a shower, not leaving for war. I’ll be quick, so that way if she needs me then I’ll-”

“Hermosa,” he paused, raising an eyebrow at you as he smiled, “take as long as you need, okay? I’m just asking to make sure so I don’t have to bother you. Take an hour, hell, take 3 hours for all I care, you deserve it, Momma. I can’t imagine how exhausted you are. Me and Lucy Goosey will be just fine, won’t we, mi amor (my love)?”

The two of you smiled as Lucy quietly cooed, your grin spreading even wider watching Javi’s face light up with joy as he looked down at his daughter, your heart practically bursting at the seams with how in love he was with her. But even through the pure bliss in Javi’s eyes, you couldn’t help but sense a nervous twinge in his voice, knowing that in the short day and a half that you’d been home from the hospital, even though you were only a room away, this was the first time that Javi was in charge of Lucy all by himself. And because you knew your husband better than you knew yourself, you knew that despite the fact Javi was probably better prepared for parenting than you were, he was secretly terrified he was going to do something that would hurt his precious baby girl, and the thought of that? That scared the shit out of him.

“Javi?” You said again, gently rubbing your hand against his arm, forcing his gaze to shift on to you and your tired smile. “Honey, you know you’re an amazing dad right? But, I can guarantee that even though we would do anything and everything for this stinker, we’re gonna mess up at some point. You love her so much, and that’s all that matters, okay? I love you, Jav.”

You could feel some of the tension begin to ease from Javi’s body, looking back down at Lucy before back to you, taking in a deep breath, and softly nodding his head to himself.

“I know, it’s just- She’s so perfect. I wanna give her everything. I just, I just wanna be a good dad. I just want her to know that I love her so much.”

As if you weren’t already an emotional mess, watching the tears well in Javi’s eyes as he gazed down at Lucy, looking at her like she was the only thing the world that existed, had your hormonal heart bursting into a million pieces, now trying to wipe your own wetness streaming down your cheeks.

“Javi, I don’t think it’s possible for you to love that little girl anymore than you already do.” You sighed, stepping in to press a kiss onto Javi’s lips before another onto Lucy’s head. “Okay, I’m gonna go shower before I become even more of a hot mess than I already am. You sure you’re gonna be okay?”

“Thanks, Osita. We’ll be just fine. I love you.”

“I love you too, Jav.”

“And hey, you’re not a hot mess, just hot.” Javi smirked, making you roll your eyes as you gestured to yourself and the undeniably disheveled state you were in.

“Javi, I look like I just rolled out of a dumpster. I am literally wearing an adult sized diaper.”

“And no one’s ever made an adult sized diaper look hotter, Hermosa.”

You couldn’t help but let out a snort, shaking your head at your husband as you finally turned to head out of the nursery, giving Javi and Lucy one last wave before disappearing out of the door frame and into the bathroom for a much needed shower.

“Alright, it’s just you and me, pollita (little chicken).” Javi smiled, rocking Lucy against your chest, taking a deep breath of reassuring confidence, feeling more self-assured about his time alone. “Let’s get you into some pajamas, huh?” With another kiss on Lucy’s head, Javi carefully laid her down on her changing table, reaching into one of the drawers to pull out a tiny onesie covered in pink flowers and strawberries.

He couldn’t help but laugh to himself at how absolutely tiny the pair of pajamas felt in his hands, shaking his head in disbelief at the fact that all of this was real- for so long, Javi had been convinced a family of his own would never be in the cards for him, and for as much as it hurt, he’d come to accept it. But when you had come into his life and given him the second chance that he had so desperately longed for, he still couldn’t quite believe how he had deserved to find himself here with a beautiful family, a wife and daughter he loved more than life itself, and how he couldn’t have been happier to be dressing his newborn baby girl into a pair of tiny pink pajamas.

Checking Lucy’s diaper and tossing her clothes into the hamper, Javi zipped her up into her pajamas, noticing that she was starting to get squirmy and fussy, he quickly picked her back up, pressed against his chest as he made his way over to the rocking chair in the corner of the nursery.

Despite the steady movement back and forth and the gentle rocking, Lucy’s cries only started to become louder, Javi trying his best to keep calm despite the fact his heart was racing, thinking he had already done something wrong to upset his daughter in the few short minutes they had been together.

“Hey, hey, hey, shhhhhhh, it’s okay bebita, it’s okay.” Javi cooed, gently patting Lucy’s back to try and soothe her. “What’s wrong, huh? It’s not your diaper, Momma fed you before she got in the shower, I wonder if it’s-”

Before Javi could finish the rest of his mental checklist outloud, he was looking down at his shoulder to see the little dribbles of spit-up drooling from Lucy’s mouth onto his shirt, quietly laughing to himself at the mystery that had seemed to solve itself.

“Alright, well that was easy. Let’s get you cleaned up, messy miss.”

Standing up to bring Lucy back to the changing table, he laid her down to reach into another drawer to grab one of the many burp cloths that had been stored away to wipe up Lucy’s little face before he was back to the pajama drawer, pulling out another pair to change her into. But as he tossed Lucy’s second outfit in 10 minutes into the laundry, he couldn’t help but notice the giant spit stain drenching his own shoulder. Not wanting to have to lay Lucy back into his damp shirt, he stared down at his daughter in nothing but her diaper, thinking back to the advice from the plethora of parenting books he had consumed and a few days ago after Lucy’s birth, where the nurses had been adamant about making sure both you and Javi spent plenty of skin on skin time with the baby.

Trying to fight off any self-doubt or need for reassurance, Javi took a deep breath as he stared down at Lucy, still restless and crying on her changing table before stripping his own shirt and tossing it in with the other tiny items of laundry that had quickly accumulated throughout the day.

“Okay, c’mere mi amorcita (my little love), it’s okay, I’ve got you. Shhhhhh, I’ve got you, baby girl.” Javi cooed, carefully cradling his daughter to his bare chest, feeling the heat of her tiny body pressed against his as he sat back down in the rocking chair, resting her head on his shoulder. “Don’t cry, pollita, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

After a few seconds of whispered reassurances and gentle rocks back and forth, Javi let out a quiet sigh of relief as Lucy’s cries began to lessen, slowly fading from wails to muffled tears against Javi’s chest.

“That’s it, see, it’s okay, baby girl.” Javi softly smiled, pressing a tender kiss into Lucy’s soft hair before reaching over to the small bookshelf next to the rocking chair, pulling a well loved copy of “Goodnight Moon” into his lap, trying his best to maneuver it open to the first page with his one free hand. “You never got to meet your Grandma Lucia, but that’s who you’re named after. A long time ago, this was Daddy’s favorite book to listen to her read. This is his book when he was a little boy, and now I’m so happy it gets to be yours.” Almost as if little Lucy knew, her crying began to calm even more to listen to her dad as he began to read.

“In the great green room, there was a telephone, and a red balloon and a picture of…”

As Javi began to read each page, Lucy became quieter and quieter, and by the time they had said goodnight to kittens and mittens, and clocks and socks, Little Lucy was sound asleep on Javi’s chest, her soft snores rumbling on his skin.

“Goodnight stars, goodnight air, goodnight noises everywhere. And goodnight my sweet Lucy Goosey. Daddy loves you so much.” Javi cooed, gently rubbing his thumb in circles along Lucy’s back as he tilted his head against the back of the rocking chair, the back and forth and weight of his sleeping daughter on his chest slowly just enough to the weight of his eyelids droop to a close right along side Lucy’s.

After a long, hot, and much needed shower, you had changed into some new pajamas, throwing your still damp hair into a towel as you headed down the hallway towards the nursery, surprised and slightly concerned by the lack of noise coming from the room.

“Hey baby, I’m all done with the shower if you want me too- Oh my god.” Before you could even make it all the way through the door, you were stopped in your tracks, covering your mouth with your hand to try and cope with the cuteness overload that was in front of you.

There, in the corner of the room sat Javi and Lucy in the rocking chair, the pair sound asleep and snoring as Lucy lay against his bare chest, “Goodnight Moon” half open and slipping out of Javi’s lap from what you assumed had to have been the book he was reading to her before they clonked out.

Your footsteps down the hallway must have been enough to wake Javi to the point that his eyes began to blink open, scrunching his face in a half awake yawn as he recognized your frame in the doorway, quickly shaking his head to bring himself back to full consciousness, immediately looking down at his chest to make sure Lucy was still there before looking back at you and the lovestruck grin spread between your cheeks.

“You two having a good nap?” You giggled quietly, making your way over to stand next to the rocking chair, gently running your hand through the dark curls of Javi’s messy, sleep ridden hair, kissing his forehead, admiring your tiny daughter perched on your husband’s chest.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, hermosa. I didn’t even realize I fell asleep.” Javi whispered, steadying his grip around Lucy as he sat up straighter.

“Javi, don’t apologize, baby. I’m glad that you were able to get her to sleep for you. Did you read her “Goodnight Moon”? Glad to know it still works like a charm. I think she must already have it memorized at this point.” You smiled, picking the book up off of Javi’s lap, turning through the well worn pages, knowing how excited Javi had been to finally read it to her as he held her, despite all of the times he had read it to your belly while you were pregnant when it was the only ways to bring you some relief from the constant kicking in your last trimester.

“Yeah we did, didn’t we, sleepy girl? Although I didn’t realize that “Goodnight Dad” was the last page of the book I must have been missing all this time.” Javi laughed, readjusting Lucy as she let out a tiny yawn, stretching her little body against Javi’s.

“Well, if every time you read “Goodnight Moon” to this little cutie, you end up shirtless with Lucy asleep on your chest, I don’t think that I’ll have anything to ever complain about again, except for the fact I’m gonna die of cuteness. God, you two are so adorable. You have a good time with your Daddy, baby girl? I hope you know that you’ve got him wrapped around your little tiny finger, Little Miss. He loves you so much.”

“God, you’ve got that right. Have you ever seen anything so perfect? She’s perfect, Osita. I love her more than anything. I love our family so much. Thank you.” Javi whispered, trying to fight back the tears welling in his eyes.

“Thank me for what, Javi?”

“For giving me everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Taglist

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dracaelus · 3 months

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Hello!

Got any headcanons about Bruce and Khoa's training years that hasn't been shown in the sacred texts (a.k.a. comics when they're good)?

Feel free to ramble, I look forward to reading everything you write <3

You’re gonna make me blush, seriously. Accept this humble offering 😳🌹:

They used to exchange clothes a lot (half homoeroticism, half they just didn't care that much), so usually, when they were on good terms and traveling together, none of them bothered to pay attention to whose clothes belonged to whom, they just took whatever they liked, bitched about any piece that wasn’t to their tastes and made sure everything was packed when they left.

That made their separations a lot more embarrassing ‘cause they could either just take the first bag they saw and leave dramatically (running the risk of ending up with no underwear and no pants ‘cause they were all in the other bag) or have to stop to rearrange and separate the clothes, and THEN leave dramatically.

Can’t decide which one of them would get angry enough to just leave all the clothes, take only the equipment (the only thing they maintained separately) and go away. Probably both. And probably at the same time, leaving the clothes to be taken by their landlord/last mentor

I think they were constantly working on some project to improve the technology and equipment they had. Most often than not they would be making a competition out of it, but when they wanted to, they could work really well together, and since they didn’t have anyone else, they were the only ones they could go to when they needed help or a second opinion on something

I like to think bruce helped khoa to develop the fabric he uses on his mask to see through it even when it covers both his eyes, just bc of the angst of khoa carrying this proof of what they could accomplish together everywhere he goes

They probably stopped at all those technology fairs and stumbled upon each other accidentally more than once even when they were actively avoiding each other just because they couldn’t help being such huge nerds

Once they were in Australia and encountered one of these fellas:

and this is how khoa knows bruce is afraid of bats. <- also probably one of his fondest memories, ‘cause bruce was having the worst time of his life and he was laughing his ass off

The first time they went out to test their abilities fighting crime, khoa was already using his signature mask, but bruce (who refused the spare one khoa so magnanimously offered him) just made them stop at a random store and bought a zorro halloween mask ‘cause a) he couldn’t be bothered, b) he has a morbid sense of humor and c) he knew khoa would get pissed (on top of making fun of his name, I bet bruce also made fun of him insisting on covering his eyes with the mask for no good reason other than to look cooler).

Even when they were feeling an achillean rage towards each other, standing side by side or back to back in a room full of other people brought a sense of calmness and security to both of them, ‘cause they knew that if anything went bad in whatever situation they were in, they would be dealing with it together <3

#what me answering quickly to an ask??? unlikely but not impossible #thanks for the ask !#drac rambles #ghostbat #asks #batman #bruce wayne #ghostmaker #minhkhoa khan

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plutoccult · 9 months

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THREE LITTLE WORDS

pairing: jean kirstein x female reader

description: a love confession from jean shakes up your restless night as the two of you are unable to fall asleep.

word count: 2.6k

read part two here

also available to read on my ao3 here

author’s note: hi, this was originally written on my ao3 account (@plutotown, same as my main blog and also my wattpad that i notoriously don’t post stories on anymore) a few months ago, but i decided that i also wanted to share works on tumblr too as i would like to get back into writing again. i’ll probably post mostly anime stuff on here (especially attack on titan and haikyuu as of rn), but i’m open to more. hopefully this is something i stick to, but if not, then at least i decided to expand sharing my works! anyway, sorry to ramble, but i hope you enjoy <3

it was common for you to be in this position; using what’s left of the candlelight to accompany your restless state. you always had trouble sleeping, especially with so many things going on at once, and the bags underneath your eyes were proof of it.

this time around, you were writing a letter to your father as it had been awhile since the two of you exchanged words. luckily for you, sasha, your roommate, was bothering connie and jean in their room, so you didn’t have the sounds of her snoring or munching on food to irritate you.

such peace didn’t last forever though as three knocks had startled you in the midst of your writing. you couldn’t possibly think of who could be at the door at this hour besides sasha, but then again, what if it was captain levi or hange? anything could happen in the middle of the night, but you supposed that if a major event was happening, the headquarters would be roaring with chaos already.

before answering the door, you quickly set down your paper and pen, hearing another knock to the door as you were getting ready to answer it. “coming!”

you opened the door, your eyes meeting with the last person you expected to see tonight. “j-jean?”

jean stood in front of you with his arms crossed, looking a little disgruntled, which made sense considering it was the middle of the night. you grew flustered as he wore a white tank top which revealed jean’s muscles that you had never noticed before. sure, you had become quite toned yourself since starting training as a lanky teen, but he was on whole other level. it was embarrassing to look at your friend and comrade in such a way, so you really had to keep yourself together here.

“nice nightgown.” jean snickered. you looked down and glanced at your baby pink nightgown that went down to your calves with its puffy sleeves and a little bow in the middle of your chest. usually after dinner, the two of you don’t see each other when going to bed, so seeing one another in pajamas like this was something new. if only this couldn’t get any more embarrassing. you didn’t really need jean having something else to tease you about.

“what are you doing here?” you stammered, trying to force your eyes to look up at jean’s face and not his physique no matter how hard it was to not stare. how dare he make this so hard for you?

“can’t sleep.” he sighed. “sasha and connie have been keeping me awake, and then i realized you have an empty bed because she’s in me and connie room, so.”

“so...?” you furrowed your eyebrows.

“well, since you’re clearly awake, wanna stay up together?” at first, you thought of his proposal as suspicious, and yeah, it kind of was. he never comes to visit you at night like this. was there a hidden motive? who knew? you didn’t, and it’s not like you were innocent either, so you allowed him to come in and hope for the best.

“um, sure...” you replied hesitantly, no going back now. “you can even crash on sasha’s bed if you want.”

“sweet, thanks.” jean then stepped inside, his first instinct to check out the letter you were writing previously that sat out in the open for any curious eyes to see. “oh, what are you writing—“

“it’s a letter to my father!” you yelled out, quickly rushing towards him and grabbing the letter out of his hands before he could read it. “i was in the middle of writing it before you knocked.”

“oh, my bad.” he immediately apologized. “you can finish writing it, i don’t mind.”

“no, that’s fine.” you let out a sigh, putting away the paper and pen into an empty drawer. jean didn’t say anything else about it, and as you turned your head, you saw him begin to sit down on sasha’s bed with not enough time to warn him about the issue with her side of the room. “by the way—“

“jesus, are these crumbs?!” jean said in disgust. there it is.

“yeah. sasha likes to eat in bed. i was just about to warn you about that.” you forced a laugh, sitting across from him on your bed, which was notably free of any crumbs.

“disgusting.” he scoffed. the look on his face made you giggle, but you stopped once jean looked up with a bit of a scary look. “what’s so funny?”

“nothing, nothing.” you lied, then patted your hand down on the spot next to you for jean. “you can sit on my bed if you want though. i’m not falling asleep anytime soon.”

“oh.” jean stood up and wiped off any crumbs that happened to stick to his pants, moving on over to your side. he blushed as you two sat close, your hips so close that they could touch if they moved even the slightest bit closer. “uh, could you not sleep either?”

“yeah. plus, i still had yet to write my father back, so i took the opportunity to start writing it.” you shrugged. you really needed to write to your father more often, especially knowing how worried he had been since you decided to abandon your life’s plan by joining the survey corps instead of the military police. but hey, you had friends who had your back just as much as you had theirs.

jean wasn’t all that innocent either though. he missed out on writing his mother back more than you missed out on writing your father back. when it came to worried parents though, mrs. kirstein took the cake. he was surprised she hadn’t stormed the headquarters by now, but even she knew he was so busy fighting for humanity. “i need to write back to my mom too. i hope she’s not worried.”

“i’m sure she thinks about her jean-bo all the time.” you teased. jean-bo could never escape that nickname, especially with you around. although, he didn’t exactly mind when you called him that. dare he say it, but you were the only exception. jean couldn’t help but hate it with a burning passion when eren used it against him though.

“not the nickname...” jean couldn’t help but pout. his frown disappeared as you lightly nudged him, reminding him that jean-bo wasn’t the only thing he was known for.

“what? it’s cute. well, cuter than being called my stallion sidekick.” that wasn’t exactly the best nickname either, but it connected him to you, so he couldn’t complain about it as much. jean always thought there had to be something better than that though.

“we are quite a pair, huh?” he chuckled, looking over to you as you grinned and responded in agreement.

“the greatest, of course.” god, that smile. it was his weakness, but in this instance? that weakness hit him like a ton of bricks. with the combination of the growing tension, the moonlight slightly shining on your soft skin through the window, and the look of peace and innocence in your eyes (compared to your feisty look in the daytime), jean was smitten. your smile never failed him, and he hoped it wouldn’t fail him now.

“um, listen, y/n, i gotta tell you something.” jean couldn’t take it anymore. he couldn’t stand the way his heartbeat slowed, even skipped a beat when you smiled the way you always did. he hated it yet loved it at the same time, so this was now or never. he couldn’t let that smile ever leave him, not now, not ever.

“oh, okay. go ahead.” but you never had any clue about your effect on jean. sure, you were always on each others toes, attached to the hip as you both relentlessly teased one another. you always knew you and jean shared a deep connection, one that grew over the years, but you always assumed it was simply a friendship and nothing more. you couldn’t let a silly thing like feelings ruin what you had with him, but jean was willing to take a chance for once.

there was no better way to go about this than muttering your name and spilling out those three little words that would change everything. jean was always one to get flustered so easily, but the tiredness in him didn’t let him think too much, so it made all of this far more easier. without really thinking, jean lifted his hand and used it to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear, hair that had seemingly grown out a little longer due to neglect thanks to the chaos around you. he watched as you grew confused, and that’s when jean said the words he had been wanting to say for months out loud.

“y/n, i love you.”

as jean retracted his hand away, your eyes shot wide open in shock. you had no idea what to say or do, you couldn’t even believe this was even happening. you felt like you could pass out at any second as the realization of jean’s confession hit you. he loved you. not just like, but love. it didn’t matter that you were merely teens in a cruel world where death was always around every corner. what started as a childish crush as cadets blossomed into an aching, burning, earth shattering love for the woman in front of him who was stronger than he thought he’d ever be.

the scenario of jean having feelings for you never crossed your mind. every time you pictured him knowing how you felt, it always ended the same with him brutally rejecting you and running after mikasa instead. god, were you dreaming? you almost wanted to yell out for somebody, anybody to pinch you all over until you started bleeding, but you were practically frozen.

“jean...” it was the only thing you could manage to utter out. even if you could speak in sentences, your mind simply wouldn’t be able to mush any words together, but you had to say something, anything. you knew how your heart beat for him but as the silence stretched out longer than it should have, jean sat in front of you, desperate for a reply. “y/n?”

“i, uh...” why couldn’t you say anything more? what was so hard about giving a proper response? to jean, it felt like a huge punch in the face, like he was being rejected, and he figured if you couldn’t manage to say anything, then he shouldn’t have said anything about his feelings in the first place.

“i knew i should have kept my mouth shut.” jean let out a sigh. you tried opening your mouth in hopes something more than “uh” would come out, but jean had given up hope on a reply, handling what seemed like rejection with grace. “just forget all of this. i’m sorry i forced my feelings upon you. i’ll just let you get back to writing your letter.”

as he stood up and began to walk out, you finally managed to say something else once you saw his hand hover over the doorknob, and it came out more as a yell rather than a normal volume. “no!”

jean turned around confused, moving his hand away from the doorknob but still standing in the same place just in case. you had his attention, but what now? “i mean...”

“goodnight, y/n.” he knew this was going nowhere, even if you seemed desperate to prevent his exit. jean grabbed the doorknob and opened the door, and as he began to step out, you stopped him once again, but with greater effort than before.

“no, don’t leave me!” you yelled out, standing up from your bed and rushing towards him. it all sounded so pathetic, you thought, but you couldn’t let him leave you, not yet. jean halted his exit once again, no matter how much it hurt him to stay a moment longer. he simply couldn’t say no to you, even at a time like this. “i mean... wait, please.”

and he did wait. that stupid, teenage hope in his heart made him wait. jean didn’t know what he was waiting for, but he was glad he did. you walked closer to him, his heart beating a mile a minute, and then you stood on the faintest hint of your tippy toes and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him unbearably close to you for a hug. he was so confused, not knowing what this could possibly mean in this instance, but returned your embrace and carefully wrapped his hands around your waist, not wanting them to rest too high or too low on your frame.

you didn’t utter a word and neither did he. this was different than the times you hugged each other for comfort in the aftermath of the many deaths you’ve seen. this wasn’t for consolation or just because you felt like it, this was longing. a desperate pining for one another that would crash and burn like the worst natural disaster there ever was, and there was no escaping it.

you trailed your fingers across his neck as jean gripped onto the fabric of your nightgown. you slowly parted from his embrace, cheeks grazing, noses brushing, and before you could do anything else, jean’s lips pressing against yours. there was no time for you to process it, no time to even close your eyes and take it all in, it just all went by so fast. your first kiss. you knew you should have seen it coming knowing he loved you, but seeing him express this more physically came to more of a shock than when he did verbally.

as jean parted away slowly, he thought to himself that this was probably a mistake. he had overstepped far more than he thought he should have, but when you took a step back away from him, he saw the redness of your cheeks and the look in your eyes. after getting a full glimpse of you, he thought that maybe it wasn’t that much of a mistake after all. jean then let go of you completely, using one hand to scratch the back of his neck and the other to tug the neckline of his tank as he grew flustered. he was wide awake now, so his mind was functioning at one hundred percent unlike before. jean was back to his usual self, the night no longer granting him confidence.

“i-i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have done that. forgive me. goodnight.” before you could do anything more, jean finally left, his feet moving faster than when he dragged them across the floor on his way here. he couldn’t believe he just did that, and he didn’t even give you a chance to say a word about your feelings. what would you have said after that kiss if he stayed, jean wondered. would you have said you loved him too, or would you have formally rejected him and told him you didn’t feel the same? jean would just have to wonder about it all night until you spoke to each other again, and it would probably eat him alive like a titan.

you gently grazed your hand over your bottom lip, thinking about everything that happened before jean left. not only could you not believe he loved you, you couldn’t believe he kissed you too. you wished it all went down differently, that the kiss could have occurred on better terms, but at least you had the words he left you and the thought of his lips against yours to think about. still, if only you could have said you felt the same just as he said he felt for you. if only you knew how to say those three little words.

#attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #jean kirstein #jean kirstein x reader #aot x reader #aot x female reader #jean kirstein x female reader #snk x reader #snk x female reader #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #jean kirstein fanfiction #aot jean #snk jean #pluto writes 📝

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luwritesomething · 2 years

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DAMIAN WAYNE HEADCANONS !!!

ah, love of my life. this man right here got me years ago into learning more about the batfam and now here i am. you can say it’s kind of his fault. anyways,,, no one asked for this but my brain did.

requests are open! hit that anon button and tell me your idea!

warnings: swearing, hadn’t been proof-read.

damian’s head is a MESS. don’t get me wrong, the guy is a little genius, but imagine the chaos of languages he has -- arab, english, chinese, i’m a hundred percent he knows russian, urdu is nanda parbat’s official language...

because of this (^^) he just sometimes shuts down and stays silent. he can’t even think.

he loves all animals but he can’t handle insects. jason found out, and damian bribed him with a collectors special edition of classical books. nobody must know his weaknesses.

he writes in cursive, i have no clues but also no doubts.

words are difficult for him, that’s why he talks the way he does -- so professionally, like he is from another age.

can stand tim (in small amounts) but no longer they will always have an intellectual rivalry -- it’s probably more from damian’s side rather than tim’s.

he still feels like he has to hide that he looks up to dick.

damian searched what fanfiction was. he’s scarred for life now.

he’s straight up bored of paparazzi. he’ll go lady gaga on their ass and stare at the ones that are hidden in a bush trying to take pictures of him in secret.

also he will go full cole sprouse on the people trying to take pictures on him while he’s walking through gotham (this means he will snap pictures of the civilians before they snap a picture of him. camera duels, that’s the name)

listens to A LOT of music. everything his siblings listen to, he does too. classical music is his favorite, however. (also enjoys jazz).

taking care of his animals and his duties as robin are his favorite activities.

doesn’t understand social media, but still uses it. he’s too stubborn to admit he’s bad handling that.

too lazy to figure out how to cook, but if he tried in the slightest, he would be an amazing cook.

damian is an incredibly fast learner. it amazes the fuck out of bruce how many new things he can learn in just one day.

he grows to be an actually very kind person, but his snarky remarks and dry humor never disappears.

likes the addams family. what a surprise.

doesn’t get horror/slasher movies. he keeps getting bored and doesn’t react to the jumpscares. jason says he is dead inside, which everyone agreed on.

they don’t know (^^) that damian is making a superhuman effort to not kick someone when the jumpscares occur because this little guy has his senses to the maximum all the time.

can’t be bothered unless someone is being ignorant or trashing about his family. he’s the only one that trashes about his family >:(

texts like a grandpa but at least he knoews what’s happening (most of the times)

like jason, damian has been kicked out of the wayne family chat numerous times.

has an elderly person soul except for when he’s fighting. then he’s a vicious little shit-

plays piano. no, i will not elaborate.

will correct your grammar in a condescending tone of voice.

“don’t patronaze me.” @ everyone.

has general knowledge about a shit ton of things. and since he doesn’t know how to properly socialize (canon) will spill those facts in order to start a conversation during galas.

has threatened the police -- 10/10 will do it again.

damian couldn’t care less about gossip but since he’s a good listener he always ends up knowing the tea about E V E R Y T H I N G.

cocky bastard. that’s it, that’s all i’m saying.

he has no idea how to handle compliments. it still makes him freeze whenever someone says he’s cute or has pretty eyes.

“no.” (damian’s answer every time someone calls him cute).

believes in soulmates and in love at first sight, not as a superficial concept but as a ‘i’m clicking and mystically attracted to this person rewardless of their looks’.

reads A LOT.

never as much as jason, and also he doesn’t just read like narrative books -- he reads those thick books about how to do things, biographys, and studies about subjects he randomly knows about.

barely sleeps, if he ever does.

sleep is for the weak™

(^^) proceeds to randomly fall asleep during patrols or family dinners.

acts like a brat but he actually isn’t -- it’s so complicated to explain, i hope someone just gets it.

at 17 he’s taller than dick and almost as tall as jason. suck it, @ everyone who mocked his height.

jon kent is his Best Friend™

(^^) damian told me himself.

he’s very handsome (canon lolz)

no but like, i mean, he will actually be one of those men you think ‘good fucking lord, he’s handsome’

damian thinks selina is cool.

has a lot of anger and frustration inside. it calms him down knowing jason also has problems like those because it makes him feel more... normal.

because normal is something damian would have liked to feel if he hadn’t been conceived to be perfect.

he would love six of crows -- would really like kaz brekker.

secretly enjoys the ya genre, will never admit it out loud.

#damian wayne #damian wayne headcanons #damian wayne headcanon #batfam #jon kent #!!!!#batfamily #damian wayne fic #robin #fifth robin #fourth robin #ask me for a part 2 #im begging

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kamomie · 11 months

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my live notes on foolish betrayal lmao

Again, I took these live. You can see I got too tired to continue when we got to the interrogation part.

It's a long read. I'm currently trying to make a more cohesive overlook. this is all the q!characters I just got tired and needed to sacrifice some stuff for quick note taking lol

Teleported out of nowhere, yet excited to get attention and a mission. Willingness to do whatever, has a limit but isn't bothered say what his limit is. Cucurucho tells him “I trust your strong sense of justice” which don’t align with q!foolish really? Even q!foolish himself is confused by this/seems to kinda disagree, but quickly adjusts to please cucurucho in order to secure getting a mission? (Scapegoat foolish arc too?).

Is taken aback by the arrest mission, seems uneasy at first, but no spoken qualms about doing it. Excited about the possibility of being able to just choose someone and arrest them for whatever. Admits to not really understanding Cucurucho’s ‘angle’.

Immediately believes Cucurucho’s words regarding Tazercraft being behind mr. mustards disappearing. Only a little “are you sure?” and foolish is on board and believes cucurucho. Agrees immediately. No attempt to defy or get out of the situation. Goes straight for how he can get them to the cucurucho office. Genuinely thinks they won’t get mad? Relies on his being on good terms and considered a silly little guy, to get away with betrayal. Does not want to be seen with cucurucho by the others in the tunnel. Not forthcoming/upfront. Uses the situation to get a gun. Believes it’ll bring mr. mustard back, but does question how, though quickly moves past that. Keeps saying “they’ll understand.”

Doesn’t really take it seriously. Finally asks a good question “why doesn’t cucurucho arrest them himself? He’s done it before and is probably more capable of it?” doesn’t take his own line of thought seriously, and reverts to self-confidence, “maybe they think I’m a threatening guy, maybe it’s the outfit”.

There is never a moment of second guessing, he is ready to do it, despite being a bit nervous.

Allows them to finish haircut. Says to tazercraft he has something important to tell them, in an excited sort of way, no warning given. He makes it seem like he wants to share information or show off something. Has a chance to come clean when asked why he disappeared out of thin air, but just gets more excited and keeps quiet, lies somewhat to make it seem like lore-sharing. Excited. Just excitement.

Liar. Says he doesn’t want to do it but has to. No indication that he was forced to do so. He willingly agreed to it. Didn’t attempt to say no. Tazercraft asks why? Foolish says, good question, do you have anything to do with mr. mustard, and tazercraft denies. Says he feels bad but doesn’t really. trusts cucurucho over his friends. Continues being excited and kinda bragging about his arrest? Even though he KNOWS it’s not something others will be happy about. Refuses to share information. Other than ‘I was told to arrest them because they kidnapped mr. mustard’. Can’t provide proof of the statement. Refuses to share who told him that. Doesn’t believe he has anything to do with tazercraft disappearing despite being the one leading them to cucurucho and arresting them. Says a whole lot of nothing. Bunch of empty words all circling back to the same fact: He will not share information. Keeps admitting to arresting tazercraft proudly, but again not sharing any actual information.

The way he answers cellbit shows that he does understand that he did something perceived as wrong by his friends. Even when cellbit makes it clear, that if foolish is in any way omitting truth and not sharing information, he would no longer consider him a friend, he still chooses to not share his actual information and continues his talking without any substance.

Lied to Jaiden about richarlyson.

#qsmp #live notes #rough draft ig #q!foolish #i'm gonna rewatch the vod and then gather my thoughts to post my views on everything so far #i might post my general view of q!foolish first bc some doozers are really pissing me off with their poor foolish agenda #because they're not just mischaracterizing their own fav but also other q!characters #foolish is not some poor little innocent bean lmao #They're using him as a meat shield!!!#-tell me you don't understand landduo's relationship without telling me you don't understand it lmao #No one appreciates him!!#-????? They very clearly do ????#they underestimate him!#-yep because he presents himself a certain way that he himself is aware of :)#and all the other stuff you say just tells me you are mixing in your headcannons #because of your all consuming wish for angst #tumblr doozers are way more chill which is nice #i think i might move all my qsmp stuff completely to tumblr #twitter is pissing me off

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cristalltiger · 1 year

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Lookim ships:

So, I’ve been reading lookism lately… and I really have to talk about those ships. Once and never again. So lemme walk you through, yeah? I’ll try to keep my personal opinion out of it, this post will mainly just analyze and try to figure out the endgames :) so, let’s hit it:

The most straightforward seem Zack and Mira. I mean- he worships the ground she walks on and has even changed for her. All we need for this ship to sail is Mira accepting her own feelings. And yea, Johan exists, but- he’s been too long away that it makes any sense for him to be with Mira in the endgame.

so my theory is: Mira and Zack are endgame. Proof: they babysitted together. If that isn’t foreshadowing.

Moving on to nr. Next: Vasco

I don’t have a whole lot of hints for him. He seems to want a relationship, but there’s no obvious partner(s). Popular among fans is Vasco x Jake, but in all honesty: I don’t see it happening. We have seen from neither of them any signs of any more but platonic feelings. Which is fine, they can live in your head (if you want them to) and we canonically just have an amazing friendship! Otherwise there’s this boy who turned out to be a girl (I think her name is leonn?) which kind of came random and idk if kicking someones split leg is the right way to start a relationship, but you go girl, as long as you make our boi Vasco happy :)

theory: actually, I might go with her for my endgame guess. But, for Vasco, there’s still a lot of room, in my opinion, we might haven’t even met his endgame yet. Or it just wasn’t hinted till now. Ig only time will tell ;)

but, in truth, his endgame are blond dogs. We all know it. Just admit.

And, I suppose now I have to talk about Daniel. Oh Danny. I was rarely ever that confused with someone’s love affairs. So I have to sort this out a little. I think we have 3 competitors in total.

Zoe

Cristal

and Jay

Now , if you’re like: What, Jay, now that came out of nowhere- yea it did- if you were blind! There have been more than a couple of occasions where he acted differently than all of Daniels other friends. If you still don’t believe me: reread. You’ll find hints. Now, to Daniels ships, I have to say: ANYTHING but Crystal. This is not supposed to be offensive and has nothing to do with bad chemistry, it’s just- too easy. The double body boy x double body girl? Too obvious. It’s like saying there’s a girl who’s supposed to kill Voldemort and she and Harry fall in love. I- I don’t think the creator is going to push that ship. But that’s only my guess.

Honestly, I still hope for Crystal and Eli, but again, just me. Can’t judge if they have an endgame shot, but if it isn’t Daniel and Crystal, they might.

Since the creator has given so much screen and development to Zoe, she has a real shot now. And, really, she went from a total prick to an amazing character. So yeah, that’s most people’s endgame guess. And I see why. It makes sense for Daniel to be with her, esp for his smaller form (though I’m still bothered that she calls him piggy) . For tall Daniel, I don’t see that much sense in it, but if we assume that they stay one person, it’ll automatically make sense as well. So yeah, it’s a cute ship and a good bet. Honestly, I’m still a bit sus about it bc I didn’t know what to think of Zoe for long, but after the thing with Logan, I’m pretty sure she’s good and, up to now, probably the most likely endgame for daniel.

also, who else would she end up with? There’s like no obvious alternative for her so that might hint on a serious ship.

And now last but not least, let’s talk about jay. Secret ninja, always there though never noticed and ready to help daniel out of any problem that might appear. It’s by far the most popular ship amongst fans and by a long shot the most mysterious. Like seriously, I can’t tell why the author included it. I mean, at this point I’d call it canon that jay has a thing for daniel, but you can’t tell the same from danny. Though honestly, he’s shown so less romantic interest in anyone that we must see the possibility of him ending alone. But that doesn’t have to mean anything. Maybe the author just wants to make us uncertain. (Which they managed fabulously, at least with me.) BC for janiel there’s a lot to unpack, I might make another post just for them, there’s no way I can say all that now. So here I’ll just sum it up a bit. Most people don’t believe it’ll happen. They say it’s gay bait, tried representation, and that Daniel isn’t gay. And tbh- I don’t understand all these points. I mean yeah, he did get red when he accidentally looked in Zoe’s décolleté, but that doesn’t necessarily say that he’s not interested in boys at all( though I agree, he’s very likely not (only) gay) . If you know why everybody says they’re not likely to happen, pls tell me.

so, the theory: they might have a shot, but it’s the one where we really can’t be certain of, which is really sad, bc drama and action genre could use a little more representation. But, as always: time will tell. And also, another reason why they might be an actual ship: jay has (like zoe) no obvious alternative.

So, that’s as far as I can think. Please feel free to ask anything or explain things I didn’t understand

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jonathankatwhatever · 8 months

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More 13 Oct 2023. It’s weird, but the actual tObject of this Thing I relate to is probably in bed with her boyfriend, but I’ve never felt closer to the iThing which I call you. I can specify you within that Thing, but I can’t say for certain how this Thing Attaches to the tObject. Or rather, the math says I can but can’t and the can’t is the primal question of all, the most vivid of all the Storylines, that of being separated from the all of you, which I label family but which is the all of the other you. That drew a Boundary, and I’ve spent a lifetime describing it. And the pulling apart creates hyperbolic space, and I’m trying to put into words how that matters in D-structure because hyperbolic space has focal points inside the Boundaries and it takes a certain process to shift from a D24 lattice to a grid squares sheet, and that process enables all the external feedback, direction, visions, sense of meaning and purpose, which you then pull out of this larger dimensional structure.

I don’t know if I’d have been able to see that if not for the way you manage publicity, and connect purposes together. The dimensionality is amazing. Exactly the kind of skill I would expect. I was thinking about that because when I read proofs of why you can’t double the cube, and thus constructible numbers, I’m bothered by the way they don’t really explain why this works. I get they don’t understand, and that my job is to develop that understanding, which then simplifies their end dramatically so we get more done. But it’s difficult to identify what isn’t understood because that’s Is and Not calculus, and the Not of that requires defining the Is of the limit of their understanding, not directly but as inferred, as made the center End, which then treated as disappearing is the analytic End, which then treated in oscillation is a Cauchy sequence.

Did you see how that worked? It was amazing to experience. I started with an image of you as mastermind, thought of a cube doubling, and that the reason it’s impossible is that each cube is created in D-structure. And astonishing to say, the best way to see that is by looking at a Triangular sheet, because you can see grid boxes in projection. Then it’s easy to see that each grid box has multiple existences, that it can’t be projected one way only but changes as you change your orientation or location over the sheet. Compare to a sheet of grid squares. You can alter it by twisting turning, etc. You can make a hole by taking a grid square and rotating it. This has the effect of pulling open a space, and you can visualize that using Boundaries. Note my parabola note was incomplete: the idea is that it has a focal point, like any Boundary form, and that pulling apart gs in n-dimensional form (which projects to a circle) generates and locates that relationship.

Oh crap, now I’m back on the butterfly. Yes, the space between makes a butterfly, which is also a somewhat distorted HG, because you can see variations wrapping over different surfaces now that the space for doing that has opened up in my head. Thanks for sharing.

Didn’t even make it to the second part of the description and I was off with more math. Wow. And the detour showed how topology works within the n-dimensional D-structure’s resolution into different forms, but essentially into grid squares because then you are altering D4-3 Space. That was a huge connection.

It honestly feels at this point like I’m taking dictation, trying to keep up with the flow of the math. Just like with playing music. Or movement.

So Is and Not calculus to define what is not understood takes advantage of the structure of that calculus to identify the Is which explains the Not of not understood. This could be the most powerful method I’ve ever seen. It’s essentially how I do this. I use Not and renormalize a lot because renormalizing draws the 1-0Segment of the Triangular between what is known and what is not known. A literal 1 and 0, known and not known.

My method is that I have an answer sheet in my head that I’m trying to fit to the questions, meaning I believe I know something when I know it, not before, and the only way that can work is if there’s a mechanism in me which says this is true and this is false. So identifying that mechanism, and determining why it says true or false identifies the mechanism behind what is visible. Is that correct? I’m trying to say that this structure must have basic similarities to any true/false branching system, so understanding that structure is like knowing what is wrong with a car by hearing it. This sound means this amount of labor, tools, knowledge, etc.

That will get better. Hard concept to put into words when you’re not saying we’re all constructions in D3-4//4-3 Space. It’s a lot to jump from that kind of description to why extreme beliefs can develop, and why they can block out competing perspectives. It’s in the wonderful part above where I reached the flow to say it’s a sequence with an End, and to see that you only need to imagine the sheet of Triangular as deforming so an End is far away and the distance is mapped around so you are on the Observer line to that End.

Great visual. Let’s see where it takes me. I just spurred myself with a whisper of you having sex. O-line to that End means 2T, means all the shapes above, like parabolas. That introduces something: say you have a center, like any other tObject, and you pull away from me, then that infers focal Ends, and that means creation of a hole, of a space between, which is then shared over a pairing, can be shaped specifically and uniquely by encoding the focal Ends shifting relative to each other. Those would be signs.

Until 2 minutes ago, I never had those thoughts. It makes complete sense: pull 2T apart or push them together and the visual in my head is that of leaves of paper rising up or falling down from flat to cover the Boundaries in the idealized CR form, meaning circle in this image. I suppose I could say the nD-structure. Pull those apart and you can see a hole develop, and the process by which the hole is defined, by which it becomes fully shared, encodes into the 2T, with each as an End encoding all the Pathways involved. That is cool.

And I haven’t even touched the main idea I had earlier. Can’t get it out because there’s stuff in the queue wanting out first. Like it bumped a bunch of nuggets along the egg drop path by forming deeper inside. That idea is this is the same mechanism as gravity. We hit that yesterday, and it struck me with full force earlier today.

The idea in Alternation is that it has two characters, that it diverges and that it converges. When it does both, it cycles. The process is infinite while generating finite results, meaning that a convergence is a divergence into the infinite which defines that Not so this Is takes the label finite. This rather obviously defines the Epsilon concept used in sequences, limits, etc.

It may not be necessary to type this, but one of the biggest dreams has been to put foundations to mathematics that allow very complicated ideas to simplify so they can be shared. I’m blown away by the fact that it’s happening. As I’ve been typing, I’ve had moments where I felt suddenly cold, like I had no idea what was going on, but it’s like there’s a dictation level in the adjoining room.

Okay, so the idea then is that D-structure generates hyperbolic images. Now to translate those better. Need a break.

—————————-

I thought we were through for a while. I typically sense a cut off, which I associate to physical sensations of desire, and those are going on now. Why generate such hyperbolic Ends, meaning demonization and idolization?

Also, I see how this traces to displacement. Start there. It’s difficult because my sensations are racing. Displacement is often into the negative simply because the stimulus was in the negative and that means you don’t need to expend the energy to cross over the I//I line to positive. Energy in this case would literalize to lift your mood.

So, the sequence in a finite construction reflects the Is & Not calculation which maps the divergence to a convergence and the other way round.

Can I do the mirror better, please? That is, we have a pairing between 2T that maps as 2HG. Admit this is a difficult one. It is. I hope that helps.

The idea is the fan image we drew many years ago, which suspiciously resurfaced 2 days ago. And I caught it one time as leaves of grid squares sheets. So add the ordering to those 3 quadrants. This exactly matches those fan pictures, because the 1 quadrant folds or rotates to appear as a 1-0Segment in Triangular. In the ideal, Triangular thus includes and expands into the various iterations of that 13. This is primal f1-3, which is wonderful to identify.

And as I was turning on the kettle, I thought: Is & Not counting as a predicate calculus means each step or count invokes the full meanings of Is and Not while ordering them to connect each Is to the iterations of its Not, as if it were the center and as if it were on the edge.

I was tempted to add as if it were another, but that’s inherent in branching, which is the word for the visual K’ing. This means a pairing consists of the Irreducible HG’s and this process which orders across the pairings. That is elegant.

I want to get to displacement, but I need a break.

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panlight · 2 years

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Do you think there's any way to rewrite Bella's blackmail in Eclipse so that she doesn't come off so incredibly selfish? Is there a way to logically get Edward away from the fight and with Bella without Bella threatening to go to the fight, danger be damned? Maybe Victoria hunts Bella down to La Push with the imprints and Bella leaves to protect the other loved ones or something. Just, how could that part of Eclipse not be so awful and cruel?

This whole part really bothers me, probably because I’m a “here for the secondary characters” person so this all just rubs me the wrong way. (And with the Wuthering Heights comparison it might be at least partly intentional?)

I THINK what we’re supposed to take away from this is “WOW, Edward and Bella love each other SO MUCH, look what they would sacrifice for each other!” That Edward would choose to stay with her rather than fight with his family is proof of his love for her (it’s even addressed this way in the text when Jacob says he wouldn’t sit it out for her, and that probably means she thinks he doesn’t love her as much as Edward does), but I can’t help but read it as “he is throwing his family under the bus.”

And SM tries to downplay it; once the wolves are involved, everyone is like “oh it will be easy now, don’t worry Bella” but it’s still literally FIGHTING TO THE DEATH. And Edward as the mind-reader is the only one who can communicate with the wolves when they are in wolf form! It IS a big thing she’s asking him to sit it out, and then him being with Bella is WHAT LEADS VICTORIA TO HER (which in Twilight was WHY Bella went with Alice and Jasper, because they realized James would assume Bella was with Edward but suddenly in Eclipse that NEVER occurs to them?!).

And Bella threatening to be at the fight just makes absolutely no sense. She can’t help. She’d be a blood distraction, I guess, but also would make the Cullens all worse at defending themselves because they’d be trying to protect her. It’s just a nonsensical thing to demand.

Then there’s just the whole idea that she’s the only one who is going to suffer worrying about Edward if he fights, like Billy and Sue won’t be worried about their kids, that Kim and Emily won’t be worried about Jared and Sam. Again, it’s just the inability to Bella/SM to get outside of Bella’s POV at times that is so frustrating. Other people are risking people they love, too! And this isn’t even their fight! Surely Bella spending the fight in La Push with Emily and Kim and Billy and guarded by Seth would make 1000 times more sense than the weird camping plan?!

(Out of universe I realize that SM wanted Victoria to find them so of course it had to go down this way but it just doesn’t feel organic. Camping? On a mountain? And there happens to be a freezing blizzard? Okay).

I guess what I would have done is that Edward IS at the fight and Bella is with the imprints. During the fight, Edward hears Victoria’s thoughts as she running through the woods and picks up like “she’s not here and she’s not at her house or their house . . . she must be with the werewolves” or whatever and Edward books it after her and tackles her right along the treaty line or whatever. Seth hears it and runs to help, Bella being Bella tries to run after Seth and witnesses the fight. Maybe she does the cut herself thing.

So then we get the Edward/Seth vs Victoria/Riley fight but without all the bizarrely selfish and nonsensical “sit out the fight” demands?

#asks

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blueathens · 3 years

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Against The Wall

-I (Don’t) Love You Series-

Song: Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood Quote: “I don’t beg.”

Requested - This is re-written to be longer so the next part can make sense, still ain’t any good,not proof read either.

Warning: Smut

Masterlist//Dusk Till Dawn Masterlist//Agape Masterlist

“I can’t believe you are here.”

“I could say the same thing about you, princess.” Mason smirked as he leaned against the doorframe of Dec and Lauren’s front door. His arms were across his chest, elbow touching the side of the wooden door as he kept his balance as he looked her up and down, admiring the casual clothes she was comfortably wearing. “What are you doing here?”

“Picking up Lauren.” Y/n told stiffly as she barged past him and into the hallway.

“Yeah?” Mason closed the door, turning around to face her. “Her and Dec are stuck in traffic at the moment but-”

Y/n didn’t hear the end of the sentence as she went upstairs to a spare bedroom so she didn’t have to stand around near Mason – the guy she hated with a passion – and all Mason could hear was an upstairs bedroom closing before he sighed to himself and rested the back of his head against the back of the front door.

It took a few minutes before Mason followed her up, his mind not thinking for a minute of why he was following her, but he didn’t, his feet padding against the carpet stairs as he jogged up to find her. He came towards the one door that was closed and just pulled down the handle – not bothering for one moment to knock – the door just opened with a pull and push of the handle revealing an annoyed Y/n laying on her back on the clean bed, phone in the air whilst her head was turned to look at her intruder with a mad glare.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m bored.” He tells her, his lips in a thin line before his tongue darts out to wet the bottom one.

“Alright, what am I then? A bloody entertainer?” She rolled her eyes as she stood up and walked towards Mason. “Leave.”

He shakes his head and Y/n groaned as she stamped one of her feet onto the ground, hand reaching round Mason as she tried to open the door, but the lock within the handle was lock – keeping the door people who hated one another locked in a room together. Well in all honesty neither of them truly really knows why they hated one another still – it came from something from their childhood and that’s all they really knew – but since then they just forever been hating one another for no solid reason.

“You fucking broke the door you dickhead.” Y/n snapped as she turned around to face Mason.

“I don’t think opening a door breaks it Y/n! You probably turned the handle the one way.”

“Turned it the wrong way? The only way it goes is up and down. It ain’t fucking rocket science Mason.”

Their faces were inches away as they yelled words of hatred to one another, but the words stopped when their eyes connected, looking into each other’s with fire. It was like they were in an unannounced eye content, both competitive to be the one to win, but as if the stars were not in Mason’s favour that day, his eyes flicked down to her perfect lips, his tongue flicked out to wet his bottom lip as he just gazes at the lips he forever wanted to kiss.

“My eyes are up here, dickhead.” Y/n growled, and Mason snapped out of his trance, but a smirk appeared on his lips as he looked back up at the girl in front of him, licking his lips again before he caged her face with his two large hands, bringing her face close to his, noses brushing and lips barely touching as they both reminded looking into one another’s eyes.

“You make me so fucking mad.” He mutters which Y/n raises a brow at quickly.

“Yeah?” She smiles slightly, dropping her phone onto floor as she spoke her next words very quietly that it made Mason feel crazier. “What are you going to do about it?”

Mason said nothing but brought their lips together, crashing his lips against hers and he felt even crazier at finally feeling her lips against his. He walks her backwards towards the wall, still kissing her messily and fiercely whilst she responded the same and knowing this made pride swell in Mason’s stomach.

His lips leaves hers and her eyes fly open to see him smirking at her as he brings his thumb to wipe along her bottom lip. “Still hate me?” His right-hand travels down to her throat, giving it a light squeeze before moving to the back of her neck, fisting her hair in his hand and pulling it to push a her head to an angle and with his other hand he moves her turtleneck down as his lips press open mouth-kisses to her warm neck. He heard the way her breathing got heavier as he lightly bites and sucks marks along her neck. “I find it pretty when you beg.” His cold breath hit her neck, sending shivers down her spine.

“I don’t beg.”

“No?” He chuckles. “Guess I’m gonna have to change that.” With a roll of her eyes she tugs the back of his fluffy hair, causing Mason to moan loudly as his lips detach from her neck. He looks at her with those dark eyes of his that Y/n never thought she could hate so much.

Her right hand goes to his collar, fiddling with it slightly before speaking words of dominance. “Just shut up and kiss me,” and with that she yanks him down so she could kiss his lips once more, but this kiss was a quick one before she kissed along his stubbled jaw, loving the taste of the beard along her tongue as she travelled down to his neck, the neck she stuck her tongue out at as she licked a long strip up along a vein from the base of his neck to the base of his jaw. Mason head fell back as he fell madly in love with the way her tongue felt on his body, tracing a vein he knew always popped out when he was angry.

His hands went up under her pink turtleneck that was covered in her black ripped denim jacket, cold hands rubbing up her stomach to her breast, squeezing them as he cupped them with his hands.

“Fuck off.” She moans and Mason knew she wasn’t being serious because the second she felt one of his hands release one, one hand of hers grabbed his and put it back onto it. But Mason moved his hands away off from them again and slide them down her body to tug her shirt.

Y/n hurried to shake her jacket off whilst Mason was quick to follow taking the shirt off before pressing a deep kiss to her lips, her biting on his lips and tugging it back between her teeth before letting go of it and swiping her thumb onto it.

Mason never knew something could be so hot.

But he guess he never fucked Y/n before.

Y/n makes work on taking her jeans off whilst Mason pulls his shirt of in one swift movement and unbuckles his belt before pushing his jeans down his legs. The second Mason’s eyes caught sight of her bare legs his hands gripped onto her thighs, digging his fingers into it as his lips went to her ear.

He kissed her again and again, deeper and deeper before detaching himself away and she almost whined at the loss of contact, but she held it back when she felt his lips on her neck again, biting down on it that earned a gasp…a gasp she prayed he didn’t hear…but he didn’t as he smirked against her slightly sweating neck. He sucked hard on it, making sure he’ll leave dark purple marks right there.

Reminding them both who was fucking her today…even though they both knew neither of them could forget this turn of events.

“Jump,” he huskily told her.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” But she still jumped, and Mason pushed her up against the wall, wedging a thick thigh between her legs, pressing against her aching core that she groaned under her breath at. Her legs instantly wrapped around him as she brought him closer to him, hands running through the fluffy hair he was growing out.

Y/n is meant to hate him, she does hate him, but she was hating herself for wanting him to kiss her and fuck her against the wall.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Mason mocked as he kissed under her ear.

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Why would I fuck myself when you’re practically begging me to fuck you, sweetheart?” He whispered into her ear, voice that sent goosebumps across her body as her eyes fluttered shut and her mouth fell open as she sighed slightly. She moved her hips against his thigh that flexed when he felt her rolling her hips against him.

“Don’t think this changes things, I still hate you.” She uttered out, biting her lip afterwards to hide her moans.

“We’ll see if you feel that way after I’m done with you?” Mason told her as he removed his thigh and she fell back to her feet. She unclasped her bra whilst she kissed his chest, sucking and grazing teeth on it as she marked it as her own. Mason made work to remove her and his underwear before lifting her up again against the wall, pushing himself completely into her with one thrust whilst she squeezed his shoulders. She bit down harder on her lips as she hid her moans, not wanting her enemy to know how well he made her feel.

His eyes softened when he looked back up at her, seeing her head thrown back against the wall as pleasure washed over her face. “Are you okay?” He whispered.

“Looks like Mason does have a heart,” she teased, and Mason woke himself up and remembered this wasn’t love…not for her at least…this was a rough fuck against a wall where they tell each other how much they hate one another, teasing and mocking each other beyond the limits as they kissed all the lies away.

“Babygirl, I wanna hear you.” He groaned as he snapped his hips back and forth, one of his hands going to the back of her neck whilst the other gripped her hip tightly as he pounded into her as hard as he could, hoping he fuck the hate right out of her. His fingers left a bruising grip on her hip that Y/n wouldn’t be surprised would leave a mark or two on it

“I ain’t your babygirl.” She snapped and Mason just smiled and captured her lips with his.

“After this all you want will be me.”

“Doubt it, bet you can’t even fuck that goo-oh.” He snapped his hips rough into her, going rough and hard as he fucked her against the cream walls.

“What was that babygirl?”

“Fuck off.” She whispered as her eyes rolled to the back of her head when she felt his cock nudging her g-spot, her stomach tightening as she clenched around him.

“Fuck do that again,” Mason muttered, and she did so as she clawed her nails deeper into his shoulders whilst he buried his face into the crook of her neck, lips sucking on her sensitive skin. “I wanna hear you,” he repeated. “I want everyone to know who’s making you feel this good.”

“I told you; you can’t fuck me good enough.”

With that Mason went rougher as she Y/n felt the coil in her stomach break whilst Mason whispered one more curse before stopping his movements. He breathed deeply against her neck as he kept her pressed against the wall for a few seconds. He was about to fall to his knees to lick her clean but he couldn’t for his phone began to ring and with so much hesitation he dropped her – only because he noticed the way Y/n came back to reality and realised what they just done, her nails letting go off his shoulders as she tried to push him away.

He scrambled to get his ringing phone out of his jean pocket, mentally cursing as he sees the name highlighting his phone.

“Hey, Dec!” Mason breathed out deeply as he pressed the green button, Y/n eyes widen as she put her bra back on. Mason ran a hand through his hair as he turns around to look at Y/n, admiring the glistening liquid that was running down her licks, calling for him to taste, calling for him to just hang up and fuck her all over again until she falls for him like he already has for her.

He hated the phone for ringing as he knew that what got Y/n to realise that she and him was fucking, that the two people who hated each other the most was fucking, and neither of them stopped, neither of them wanted to walk away as it was far to perfect. But Mason knew that she will never think about this again and she will go back to hating him all over again.

“You’re on your way back?” Mason blinked as he rubbed a hand over his sweaty face. He watched how Y/n quickly got herself presentable as quietly as she could, and Mason was wishing that he was still kissing her. “Good, good, erm…well we’re kind of trapped?” Mason listened to Dec’s confusion on the other line. “Yeah Y/n went to wait in the spare bedroom, but I remembered my jacket was hanging on the back of the door, so I went in to get it, but Y/n was being a moaning self again, I got angry and closed the door and I think the handle broke?” He listened to Dec further ask questions, but Mason wasn’t listening as he watched Y/n thread her fingers through her knotted hair as she looked at a mirror. “We’ll see you soon…yeah we’ll try and not kill each other, thanks.”

He handed up and chucked his phone to the bed. He grabbed his boxers with a sigh as he stepped into them and pulled them up his legs.

“Next time I should fuck you in front of a mirror.” Mason voice was low as tried to see where their relationship was now after he just fucked her against a wall.

She turns around and points her finger between the two of them. “This was a mistake.”

“Okay,” he smiles as he speaks lightly.

“I’m not joking. Whatever that was isn’t going to happen again.”

“Okay.” Mason repeated again in such softness that made Y/n huff in annoyance as she finished making herself presentable whilst Mason slowly did the same.

The only question that was on his mind was why they hated each other so much? What made them like this and why have they only just done the things they’ve done now when Mason knows for a fact he always wanted to kiss her? Or fuck her? He always dreamed of being with her when he wasn’t pretending to hate her…but why did they hate each other?

Guess he’ll never found out unless she tells him…that if she remembers that is.

There she was…a black skin-tight dress hugging her body as if it was her natural skin. Mason was too caught in staring at her he didn’t give a care about Ben flirting with the brunette next to him, them both laughing at some stupid joke he told her.

Mason didn’t care that his best friend was hitting it up with a great girl.

No.

The only thing he was caring for was the pretty woman dancing with the wrong man.

“So is he cute? The guy you’re going out with…is he cute?” Lauren asked Y/n as she settled on the sofa next to her best friend, thankful that she and her boyfriend were no longer stuck in traffic.

“A date?” Mason asked, head snapping to face Y/n and Lauren. “You’re going on a date?”

“Why do you care Mason?” Y/n raised her brows at the fluffy haired male.”

“I don’t…just feel sorry for the bastard.”

Her hips swayed against the man she was seeing, her arse against his crotch as his hands were planted on her hips, keeping her against him as they danced to the beat of the music. His lips were against her neck, biting and bruising it as they danced – something Mason’s lips were once doing the other day as he fucked her against the wall.

She had a content smile on her face as she turned around and messily kissed the male on the lips. She planted a few more kisses against his bruising lips being seductively making her way to the bar and his eyes stayed on her as he watched her go.

Mason was quick to wait by the wall he was waiting for her to pass to get to the bar, and the moment she did he pulled her in and pushed her against the wall, arms caging her as his lips moved dangerously closed to her messy lipstick covered ones as his eyes looked into hers.

“What the fuck are you doing with him?” He growled, eyes flickering round her attire and not being happy that someone who wasn’t him got her looking like this.

“I agreed to go on a date with him arsehole.” She rolled her eyes. “So let me go back and-”

“No.”

She rolled her eyes again.

“Roll those fucking eyes of yours again and I’ll give you a good reason to roll them.” His lips went down to her neck, planting marks on them where the other man didn’t, and he smirked widely when he heard her laboured breathing – knowing for a fact that the other man was most defiantly not getting her feeling like this.

A hand of his moved down and onto her thigh, moving up it and under her dress as his fingers fiddled with the thin material she would call underwear – whilst he would could it the worst tease ever. “Were you thinking you was going to fuck him tonight?” Mason growled against her neck as her head looked up as his fingers slid across her clit. “Huh? Does he know who you was fucking the other day? Who’s name you was screaming out? Because I’m sure s fuck it wasn’t his.”

Her head snapped back to reality as she pushed him away from her.

“That day never happened between us.” She began. “And why does it matter? Why are you here Mason? I was just a quick fuck for you. I’m probably not the first girl you’ve done that to and I defiantly won’t be the last.”

Mason stepped back slightly, blinking as his eyes become soft as he looked at the upset and angry woman in front of him who was pulling down her dress on her thighs.

“You really think that low of me?” He whispered as he tried to come closer to her, but she wouldn’t let him. “Y/n I-”

“No…no I don’t give a fuck with whatever you’re about to say Mason…go find some other girl to fuck as it sure ain’t going to be. I’ve already made that mistake once and I’m most defiantly ain’t going to make that mistake again.”

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stardewtales · 3 years

Note

Your shane x reader are some of the first I read when i got into sdv, and they still hold a li special place in my heart <3 I love the way you wrote shane, jas, and the farmer (you kept the farmer rather neutral, but you still gave her moments of personality, rlly great stuff!), anyway, I'd love any shane related stuff you would do, but if your looking for a request, the reader teaching him abt farming/gardening (planting hot peppers together eee) i think would be rlly cute-ok bye lysm!!!

A/N: hey lovely!! If you're still around, thank you so much for this. I'm sorry it's taken so long for me to get to your request, but here it is! Hope it lives up to your expectations xx

Shane can feel you hovering behind him.

"What is it," he groans, not bothering to turn around.

"Sorry," he hears you say. "Just, be careful with the roots, please? I don't want all your work to be for nothing."

Well, he can't exactly fault you for that. If anything, he's ashamed because he was distracted while you showed him the whole thing about the roots.

He turns to look at you. "Would you, uh... mind showing me again?"

His stomach twists as you smile at him, thoroughly amused. "Sure thing. Here, let me get in there..."

You kneel beside him, knees firmly planted in the dirt beside his. You proceed to show him how to dig around the roots instead of into them for a second time that afternoon. For a second time, he finds it hard to focus with you so close, but he fights that a little harder this time.

"Here," you hand him back the trowel, "give it another shot."

He can't miss the way the look you give him is so damn encouraging. You've given him plenty of variations on that look by now, with various degrees of concern thrown into the mix. He proceeds to try digging up the pepper plant again, the sun boring down on the back of his neck as he does it.

"Am I getting it right, now?" he asks, glancing up at you quickly.

"Couldn't do it better myself," you nod exaggeratedly, and he fakes throwing dirt at you in retaliation.

It gets a laugh out of you, clear and joyful. It stirs something inside him, the feeling that's been nagging at him sort of often these days. It hits him like a ton of bricks in that moment that this is the feeling he used to chase all the way down the bottles, the sort of rush he used to think would make up for everything else.

He must've made a face when he realized it, because your brows furrow in concern.

"Are you o-" you start, but you're cut off short by a girlish squeal further down the field.

Him and you both shoot up, surveying the surroundings.

"Jas?" you half-shout, concerned.

"I think I need some help," her voice pipes up sheepishly, and the two of you finally spot her, fallen on her butt among the sunflowers.

You huff, relieved, and tell him you've got it with a brief touch on his arm before you leave in Jas's direction. Now that he knows she's not hurt, he can go back to making sense of his thoughts, yet he barely registers the lingering feeling of your fingers on his forearm.

He kneels and gets back to work, distraught. His first instinct is to worry. The therapist Harvey connected him with cautioned him pretty early on about the way some addicts replaced one addiction with another, and that all good things should perhaps be enjoyed in moderation while he was on the road to recovery.

You're the best thing in his life by far, but he failed to keep you at arm's length a long time ago now. He's not dense enough to be unaware that he's developed some pretty strong feelings for you. But this particular feeling is new-ish, and he doesn't quite know what to make of it. As his fingers dig up the pepper plant out of the ground and he gently removes chunks of dirt from the roots, Shane hopes really hard this doesn't mean he's allowed himself to veer all the way of the right path he's been trying so hard to stick to.

He hates to think about it, but maybe he needs to cool off on seeing you so often so he can at least get a grip. He can't even recall the last time he went a day without seeing you. Sometime in the spring, probably? It's the very end of summer now.

After he's transferred the plant to the wheelbarrow, Shane stands up and looks around. You're still helping Jas uproot some sunflowers, even though her initial job was just to collect the stray seeds. Officially, he and her were there to help you wrap up the summer crops so you could transfer some to your greenhouse. In reality, he was helping you; Jas was causing more trouble than she was helping, but you didn't seem to mind at all, more than happy to show her over and over how to handle things properly.

He didn't know how you did it. It's like you had an endless well of patience, and he knew he ought to have reached the pit of it by now. And yet, he had not. There were depths to your kindness that reached far enough that even after dealing with him through his recovery, you still had plenty left for Jas in all her fumblings and ill-advised adventures.

For the rest of the afternoon Shane managed to clear his mind and just keep working somewhat efficiently. Marnie came around just before dinnertime to get Jas, who was too exhausted from running around by then to protest. Marnie had also let him know she'd save him a portion of dinner for when he came home, but to take his time, which he'd made sure to thank her for.

It wasn't long until Jas left before you and him moved on to replanting the uprooted plants into the greenhouse. He liked that part more than the digging up; liked the hazy warmth of the greenhouse more than the blaring heat of the field. The two of you worked mostly in silence, both exhausted, him perhaps more than you.

After you planted the last of yours and he was halfway through his own last plant, he heard you clap your hands together to shake the dirt off your gloves, before you fully shrieked.

"What's wrong?" he quickly turned towards you.

"Your neck!" you replied, walking over to him. "Did you not put on sunscreen like I told you to?"

Shane instinctively reaches for the back of his neck, and while the sunburn doesn't hurt yet, he can feel the tell-tale heat coming off of it.

"Ah, shit. Think I missed a spot."

You tut at him, shooing his hand off so you can take a better look.

"You big idiot," you chastise him affectionately. "You're lucky I have an infinite amount of aloe in the house from last summer."

**************

As Shane steps out of the shower and into your steam-filled bathroom, he can already tell he'll be sore from all this work. He doesn't know how you do this every day. He tries to get a look at himself in the mirror, but it's too fogged up. Probably better that way, he thinks.

He's used your shower plenty of times before, and he's glad that at the very least it doesn't feel as awkward as it used to. While he was still in the pits of getting sober, you'd graciously let him stay over on your couch so Jas didn't have to see him struggle when it got too hard. He still doesn't know why you did that, or how to repay you for it.

After putting on his clothes, he steps out into your living room, where you're waiting for him with a huge tub of the goo you intend to smear on his sunburn. You've showered too, and made him do it after you because otherwise you claimed he'd just wash off the aloe later, which was probably right.

"C'mere," you beckon him over to sit on the arm of your couch.

He chuckles. It's funny to him, how bossy you get when you're trying to take care of him. Nevertheless, he does as he's told and dutifully sits down like you instruct him. And waits.

Nothing happens.

"You okay back there?" he asks, looking over his shoulder.

You raise a brow. "Aren't you gonna take off your shirt? How am I supposed to get this on you otherwise?"

He feels a bubble of panic rush up. He's in better shape than he used to be, but he's still not much to look at, and he doesn't like the idea of you finding that out like this. "Is that really necessary?"

You sigh, and he knows there will be no convincing you. He feels the tips of his ears burn as he lifts his shirt over his head, dropping it at his feet and taking precious care not to look back at you. "Happy?" he mumbles.

"Hmhm," you hum quietly behind him.

You bring your aloe-coated fingers to his burning skin, and instantly he feels consumed by ice-cold flames. He was not prepared for you to touch him quite so gently, to work the gel into his skin in tiny, careful circles. His throat runs dry as he's reminded of his earlier conclusion that he needs to take some time away from you, for both of your sakes. If the way his body is reacting to this isn't proof, he doesn't know what would be.

You let him know you're done, and he promptly puts his shirt back on. He wishes he hadn't when the stickiness gets a hold of the collar.

"So, just a heads up," you start, screwing the jar of aloe vera shut, "I'm gonna be really busy tomorrow I think. So maybe hanging out in the evening when I'm done would be better?"

He's taken aback by the way this is coming up faster than he anticipated. Still, No time like the present I guess, he thinks to himself.

"About that," he clears his throat, "I think it might be better if I spend some alone time for a while."

He watches you still. You look up at him slowly, visibly confused. "Have I done something wrong?" you ask, and it kills him. "I'm sorry if I have, I know I can be a little overbearing sometimes," you start to ramble, but he cuts you off.

"No, no, none of that," he tries to reassure you. "It's just, uh, how do I say this," he scratches at his head, genuinely at a loss. "Remember how I told you my therapist said I should, like, maybe be careful about things I enjoy a lot? And about... strong emotions?"

You nod, but he can tell from your slight frown you're still confused.

"Well, it's kinda like that. I feel really good when I'm with you. Maybe a little too good. Strong stuff. But I don't wanna depend on you to feel... good. I wanna keep this healthy, yeah?"

You ponder his words, and he can tell he hasn't really gotten his point across. "I mean, I think I get where you're coming from, maybe? But Shane, I think it's okay for you to have a support system. Is it really so bad if being with a friend makes you feel good? I think that's how most people feel."

He shakes his head, huffing. "No, it's not like that."

"Then what is it like?"

His eyes meet yours, and he feels weak. "Please don't make me say it," he whispers.

"Shane," you reach out to touch his shoulder, "You're worrying me."

He swallows. Before he knows it, it tumbles out of him. "I have feelings for you. I have for a while. And lately it's gotten a little out of control. So I need some time away from you to get over it, okay? I don't want things to be weird. I need you too much to have things be weird. So I need to figure it out before it gets there."

You stare at him, and he sees so many emotions run across your face that he gets dizzy.

"You... what?" you say quietly after a while.

He feels heat rise from his chest all the way to his ears, like some twisted type of nausea. "Forget it, alright? That's not the point I'm trying to make. I just..." he breathes, "I'll see you in a few days, yeah?"

He doesn't wait for a response. He goes for the door right away, in a real hurry to leave this place where everything is so blatantly yours, down to the smell of your lotion lingering in the air from your bare legs.

But you don't let him leave. He feels your hand on his arm, a real grip this time, and the next thing he knows you're reaching for his neck and bringing his mouth to meet yours. Shane thinks he's forgotten how to make his blood run, how to make his lungs breathe, how to make his limbs move. You're pressing your lips on his with a fervor he didn't even know you had in you. Then, with an instinct of its own, his body kicks back into gear, and he feels himself wrapping his arms around you, bringing you closer yet as he pours all the energy he has left into kissing you back.

It's desperation that compels him, because he never imagined this would ever happen outside of his mind, outside of his daydreams. He's not even convinced he'll ever get to do it again, so he's making this one count.

He genuinely has no idea how much time has passed when you break away from him, panting. You're not saying anything, just searching his eyes with yours.

"Please say something," he eventually breathes.

He watches as you swallow, then exhale loudly. "I don't want to see you in a few days only. I wanna see you now and in the middle of the night and every moment of every day. I don't want you to go and get over me, because I don't think I'll be able to get over you if you do, Shane. So don't leave me. Stay. Please."

Your words fluster him a great deal more than he already is. "Okay," he nods, in a half-daze.

"Yeah?" you make sure, still catching your breath.

"Yeah," he confirms. "Anything for you. Of course."

#shane x reader #shane x farmer #stardew shane #sdv shane #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley shane #stardew valley #sdv

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yandere-daydreams · 3 years

Text

Title: Desperate Measures.

Pairing: Yandere!Kaeya/Reader (Genshin Impact).

Word Count: 2.2k.

TW: Kidnapping, Emotional Manipulation, Implied Stalking, and Delusional Mindsets.

Kaeya was a man, distracted.

Distracted. Divided. Not inattentive, but pulled away from his responsibilities by a force he couldn’t name and couldn’t say he cared for, either. He wasn’t a stranger to romantic inclinations — fantasies, sudden flings, slow-burning inclinations that died the moment his attention was called elsewhere. Predictably, the few relationships he allowed himself were short-lived, at best distasterous at worst, but he didn’t have a problem with that. If anything, Kaeya appreciated it. He’d always thought of company as optional, and what little loneliness he was still capable of feeling could be drowned with a generous glass of wine. He wasn’t one to linger. He tried not to overstay his welcome. He’d been sentimental, once, too emotional for his own good, and he’d learned his lesson. He didn’t intend to change.

He didn’t want to change.

And yet, here he was.

Distracted.

He couldn’t think. He couldn’t focus. It was all he could do to look like he might’ve been trying to read the most recent document left on his desk – this one from Jean, a directive for the younger knights or legislation she needed him to review or another vague, important report that he probably would’ve dealt with weeks ago, if he’d been able to concentrate.

He made a half-hearted effort to straighten his back as the door to his office began to open, but Kaeya dropped the act quickly, abandoning it completely by the time he heard the sound of heeled boots against hollow tile, caught a glimpse of a familiar (albeit, rarely used) catalyst, searched for eyes and found the cover of a thin book, instead, your face still buried in your newest novel as you stepped through the threshold, not bothering to knock. It was you. He should’ve known it would be. Who else did he deserve?

You, Lisa’s new assistant. You, the latest addition to the Knights of Favonius. You, his current, infuriating, unshakable fixation.

You, the new recruit who hadn’t paid him so much as a passing glance since your arrival, much to Kaeya’s frustration.

You didn’t look at him. You rarely ever did, but it hurt more than it usually did, today, as you dropped another form onto his desk, letting it replace the greeting you’d forgotten to offer. “Lisa needs you to sign this,” You started, laying out your priorities clearly, a skill Kaeya was beginning to resent. “It’s just next year’s budget. If you don’t want to read it, I think I’ll be able to look the other way.”

He glanced over the rows of numbers, the messy hand-writing, the columns of meaningless gibberish that blended together into a mess of ink and digits, and took your suggestion, scrawling his name across the only blank line. It was a lost cause, especially with you in the room. Especially with your unoccupied hand resting on his desk, your fingertips idly tapping an unsteady rhythm into the wood, and all he could think about was who he’d be willing to kill to feel that hand pressed against his cheek.

He considered asking you, for a moment, giving you an order and hoping you'd absent-mindedly obey. He thought about touching you, or running his fingers through your hair, or pulling you into his lap and mumbling sweet-nothings into your ear until someone else dragged you away.

He thought about a lot of things. Then, he said, “I take it your silence comes at a price?”

“Do I seem that selfish to you?” You were selfish. You had to be selfish. If you weren’t, then surely you would’ve been kind enough to put him out of his misery months ago. “I like helping people. Just remember this when I need a favor from you.”

“I’m sure we could work something more immediate out,” He went on, but you were already starting towards the door, calling the conversation to a close before Kaeya could begin to finish. In the back of his mind, something flared, the urge to catch your wrist, to go after you, to put himself between you and the only exit and refuse to move until you looked at him, but he forced it down, swallowing the temptation before it could eclipse his common sense. He couldn’t be impulsive. He couldn’t make rash decisions. He wasn’t prepared to deal with how difficult that would make things, not now.

Not yet.

“Join me for a drink?” He tried, again, attempting to sound unbothered. Nonchalant, casual, normal. Like he wasn’t itching to burn every book you’d touched. “I know you don’t have anything better to--”

“Another night, Captain.”

And just like that, you were gone, leaving Kaeya’s muttered response to echo through his empty office.

“Of course.”

Kaeya was a man, desperate.

Like a starving dog. Like a traveler who hadn’t seen water in thirty days. Like a distraught, distressed, disturbed knight, wandering through a maze of a library, cursing the existence of every shelf that separated him from you. He knew where you'd be. You were a creature of habit, and he’d already had more than enough time to memorize your routine. He’d had enough time to memorize everything about you, as ashamed as he was to admit it. It was a testament to his devotion, to how much time he’d spent trying and failing to win your favor.

It was evidence of how pathetic he’d gotten, over the course of his one-sided pursuit.

You were in your usual spot – tucked into the far corner of the library, perched on the edge of a windowsill, your attention monopolized by the tattered scroll spread across your lap. You were still pouring over it by the time he reached you, slumping against the nearest wall, taking in how brilliantly the muted sunlight looked as it danced across your skin. He didn’t try to hide the way he stared, anymore. He was long past worrying that you’d care enough to notice. Your hair was unkempt, proof that’d you slept in the archives again, if you’d slept at all. Your lips were bleeding, too, the lower one chewed raw and split down the middle, but it might’ve been stranger if they weren’t. It must’ve been a nervous tick, but Kaeya found it cute. Kaeya found it endearing. Kaeya found everything about you endearing, and to the archons, he wanted to see those lips wrapped around his co--

And he hated it. He found everything about you endearing, and he hated it. That was all.

He sighed, the sound airy, exhausted. You didn’t look up, but that was fine. It would’ve only hurt him further if someone as simple as that drew out your concern. “I’m in love with you.”

There was a hum, soft and contemplative. A rather generous response, by your standards. “I’ve noticed.”

“You’re all I think about.” It was an awkward confession, one he’d already used a hundred different times. He didn’t care. He’d use it a hundred more, if he had to. “I’m a wreck. I can barely remember my own name, and some days I can’t even do that. I can’t fight, I can’t eat, I can hardly breathe. Every morning, I wonder what it would be like to wake up to your smile, and every night, I stare at my ceiling and loath myself because I’m not holding you in my arms. For fuck’s sake, just yesterday, I almost kissed Albedo because the chemicals he was working with reminded me of the way your favorite kind of flower smells, and I’m just so fucking desperate, I convinced myself that was the closest I’d ever come to kissing you.”

He was rambling, by the end, panting, yelling, but you only blinked when he was done, once, then twice. Your dull nails bit into the edges of your scroll, but you didn’t seem to mind, nor did you move to roll it up as you finally turned to face him, the confusion written clearly across your expression. “You kissed Albedo?”

“You don’t get it,” He said, and you nodded in agreement. “You don’t fucking get it.”

“I think I do,” You admitted, more earnestly. Your gaze dropped back to the ground, and instantly, Kaeya deflated. “I just… I just don’t think it’d work out, if I’m being honest. I’m still new. I still have to give everyone else a reason to trust me, and I don’t think it’s in my best interest to start a relationship with one of my superiors so early on.” You paused, laughing to yourself, and something in Kaeya’s chest tightened. It was the happiest he’d been since he met you, and he still felt like you’d pushed a sword through his heart and twisted. “But, you don’t really want a relationship, do you? You’re just bored, and you need something to fixate on. I’m the most available option, so...” You trailed off, finishing your sentence with a vague, stilted sweeping gesture. “It’ll be easier for both of us, this way. I like you, Captain, but I don’t like you enough to put myself through that.”

It was all he could do to remember how to open his mouth. Once he did, the words came stumbling out on their own.

“Of course.”

Kaeya was a man, determined.

Determined might’ve been the wrong word for it. Too soft, too suggestive, the impression too positive and the meaning too vague. ‘Depraved’ might’ve suited him better, but that was too harsh, too primitive, and he’d like to think he’d been as gentle as anyone could expect him to be, given your stubbornness. He’d tried to be gentle. He’d wanted to be gentle. If he was going to do this to you, he could at least do it gently. You deserved that much, at least.

Or, maybe you didn’t. Maybe you didn’t deserve any of this.

He couldn’t really make up his mind, about that.

“Lisa?”

And he was gentle, more so than he had to be. Sure, you were on the floor, bare stone already beginning to chafe at your skin, but the shackles around your wrists were padded, and he’d given you enough slack to sit down, to ball yourself up, to act like it’d never crossed your mind that he’d resort to something so… easily misinterpreted. The blindfold was, similarly, an act of mercy. You’d panic if you woke up like this, chained to a wall in someone else’s cellar, and Kaeya didn’t want that. You needed time, and he could give you that. He would give you that. Even if it pained him to stay at arm’s length.

“Amber?”

He wanted to touch you. It’d be easy, now, easier than it’d ever been before. You wouldn’t be able to push him away, and even if you tried to, he could always overpower you. Take you by the neck, pin you against the floor, leave you shaking and trembling and begging, pleading with a captor you couldn’t see. He’d find a way to make it up to you, later on. He’d find a way to lie, to smile, to make it better, even if he’d failed to time and time again, out there. But, this would be different. You wouldn’t be able to cling to your excuses, and he’d be able to show you how much he cared, how much he wanted this, how much he loved you. This would be better.

“Kaeya?”

See? You were already coming around.

Your voice was already soft, hesitant, a sliver of a whisper that was constantly on the verge of dying out completely. You were trying not to make noise, trying not to seem as terrified as you really were, but he could hear the way your breath hitched as he took a step forward, your restraints rattling as you curled into yourself. You couldn’t hide from him, but you wanted to. That much was obvious. You didn’t want this.

But, he did. More than you could ever want to run away from it.

He wanted to touch you, but he held himself back. Instead, he only kneeled in front of you, letting himself linger for a moment before he spoke. “I’m here, love.”

“Where are we?” You were afraid, too scared to put the pieces together. Not while you could still hope there was another explanation. Not while you could still deny the apparent. “My head hurts, and I can’t--”

“I know, and I’ll make it up to you.” This time, he let himself reach out, cupping your cheek and chuckling as you tried to shy away. The two of you could work on that, later on. He could live with the guilt if he let himself enjoy it, now. “Just give me a moment, alright? Just a second, then I’ll take care of you.”

You opened your mouth, then you closed it again. Kaeya wondered if you’d be bold enough to refuse if he did try to kiss you, or hold you, or go further than the fleeting touches he’d swore would keep him satisfied, at first, at least. He wondered if he’d care, when you did. “Are… are you going to hurt me?”

He wanted to reassure you. He wanted to promise he’d be patient, that he’d understand if you lashed out, that violence wasn’t an option he was willing to consider, but he couldn’t, like this, could he? He didn’t want to hurt you, but he’d never wanted to kidnap you, either, not until you made it obvious he didn’t have another choice. He didn’t want to stoop so low, he didn’t want you to hate him, but…

But, he was lying again, wasn’t he?

To tell the truth, he couldn’t remember the last time he genuinely cared whether or not you loved him back.

You stifled a scream as his hand dropped to your jaw, his grip tightening as he jerked you forward, just close enough to wrap his arm around your waist, to bury his face in the side of your neck, to get a taste of what you’d deprived him of. It wasn’t enough, he doubted it’d ever be enough, but he had you. He had you, he was close to you, and he had you. That had to be enough, for now.

“We’ll see.”

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kpostedsum · 3 years

Note

hii! can i request a fic with theo and a ravenclaw reader? maybe the war is approaching and reader wants him to finally pick a side?

as the world caves in; T.N

theodore nott x reader

song: as the world caves in - matt maltese

a/n: unedited and not proof read oops

masterlist | taglist

you and theo have been having an ‘argument’ for the past hour now. you told theo how scared you are for him and that he needs to pick a side with the war approaching, but he is having none of it.

“y/n it’s not that easy, you think i want any of this!” he yelled as he rubbed his free hand over his face.

“my father’s a deatheater i don’t have much of a choice” he said flatly looking at you with strained eyes.

“you’re not your father though theo, you don’t have to follow him just because he’s your family! you know it’s better to fight against the death eaters who why won’t you?” you asked, desperately seeking an answer. “is it because of draco? has he asked you and blaise to stick with him while he—”

“don’t bring up draco, he has nothing to do with this” he said moving closer to you. “and if he did, i would stick by him anyways” theo said, and he meant it. theo, blaise and draco have always stuck by eachother no matter what, they were basically attached by the hip.

“what about me— your girlfriend? do i not have a say in this situation” you stared at him as he stood silently avoiding your eyes.

the room fell silent as he refused to answer your questions or look you in the eyes.

“well you know what, come find me when you make your decision” you broke the silence and walked out of his dorm back to the ravenclaw tower.

as you left, theo stood in his dorm contemplating his decisions. side with his girlfriend on the right side or side with his family and friends he considers his brothers.

he wished he was able to stay neutral in such a situation but he knew that was impossible. he knew if he sided with you he’d get to live a happy life with the woman he loves, but probably get disowned. if he sided with his family, he’d lose you.

—

as he tries to come to a decision he notices you’ve been keeping your distance from him. he can’t even blame you, you weren’t his first choice.

he watches you from across the great hall as you converse with luna and cho at your table, your eyes shining bright as you talk about a subject you’re super passionate about.

“mate, are you good?” asked blaise as he noticed theo’s spaced out state.

“yeah, i’m alright. just thinking”

—

he lays in bed weighing out his decisions, he know’s what he wants and it’s you. but he doesn’t know what to do. he doesn’t want to betray his dad or leave his friends.

what would his mother do he thought? she’d probably choose the side of love, her father being a deatheater never bothered her.

of course he’d like to stand by his friends and family but is it worth it? the love you gave him is unmatched to the love he ever received from his father.

he quickly gets up from his bed careful not to wake his dorm mates sleeping soundly in their beds, and sent a letter to you with his owl.

love,

meet me at the astronomy tower in five minutes

yours, theo

you shift in your bed as you hear a tapping on your window, noticing an owl is trying to get in. you quickly open your window letting the owl in and perch in your bedside.

you open the letter from theo and quickly dress yourself in a robe and make your way to the astronomy tower.

when you arrive you see theo standing there by the railing with the chilly spring air blowing between his brown locs. he looks beautiful.

“you wanted to speak to me” you say softly as you walk up to him and grab the railing.

“yea i did” he said flatly.

“i’ve been thinking about what you said, you know” he turned to you. “you’re right, as much as i want to stay with my friends they can’t give me what you give me.

you turned to face him as well feeling your cheeks heat up at his words.

he began moving closer to you until he was right infront you. he put his fingers on your chin and slowly lifted it so you gaze is now in him.

“i don’t need them, i need you. you keep me grounded and always make sure i make the right decisions— not to mention your pretty face and that pretty little brain of yours to match” he smirked and you let out a chuckle at his compliment.

“theo, what are you saying” you spoke softly.

“i choose you by the way, i thought that was quite obvious” he laughed.

your fingers entwined with his, and suddenly, life made sense.

•

🏷 my mutuals: @henqtic @helleli @hellohellook @sfdlm @underappreciated-spoon-321 @slut4drvc0 @justdracology

#draco malfoy x reader #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theo x reader #theo nott x reader #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy fluff #harry potter #blaise zabini smut #blaise x y/n #theodore nott #theo nott fluff

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elriell · 3 years

Text

Two Mates? Elriel & (El)ucien Theory.

These are just a few of my thoughts compiled together regarding having two mates, the signs and breadcrumbs Sarah has incorporated. If you know me you know am a Lucien fan so this is nothing hateful towards him and we will be looking at his place within it all as well, that being said this will have bond rejection/misalignment talk so if that is not your cup of tea I understand and you can skip this! As always I would love to hear everyones thoughts so long as we are all respectful ♡

Let's start by discussing the where the two ships align and parallel mates behaviour, and then we will discuss where their arc's veer from each other...

“TOUCH HER, SMELL HER, TASTE HER– THE INSTINCTS WERE A RUNNING RIVER.” (Lucien in ACOWAR about the mating bond.)

“Letting his scarred fingers touch her immaculate skin. Letting them brush the side of her throat, savoring the velvet-soft texture.”

“Azriel's fingers lingered at her nape, atop the first knob of her spine. Slowly, Elain pivoted into his touch. Until his palm lay flat against her neck.”

“They'd exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers, but never this. Never blatant, unrestricted touching. ”

“He prayed she didn't peer down. Prayed she didn't understand the shift in his scent. ”

“Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He'd beg on his knees for a chance to taste it. ”

“He needed to know what the skin of her neck tasted like. What those perfect lips tasted like.”

“This one moment, and maybe a taste, and that would be it.

“Yes" Elain breathed, like she read the decision. Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them. ”

Now you can easily parallel this to any of SJM's mates, like Feysand or Nessian. But for the sake of brevity I will leave you with the original link to the wonderful @suelky post where it was pointed out w/ Feysand quotes as well. [source]

Also "The instincts were a running river.” sounds a little like “Azriel’s Siphons guttered, the stones turning as dark and foreboding as the deepest sea."

The Bonus POV has a lot of typical "Mates" behaviours manifesting between Elain and Azriel, and it would make sense this would be a extreme POV shift as we have never been inside either of their heads before so we were bound to have a major learning curve, especially with Az who is so reserved with his emotions.

“But Lucien’s attention went right to the hallway toward the back, his nostrils flaring as he scented Elain’s direction. And who she’d gone with. A low snarl slipped out of him—”

“So you will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her." Azriel snarled softly.”

There are countless main trio parallels but most of you are aware of which one is my favourite...

“Knelt on those stars and mountains inked on his knees. He would bow for no one and nothing— But his mate. His equal.”

“Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He'd beg on his knees for a chance to taste it.”

"Every instinct in his body came roaring to the surface, so violent he had to choke them with a brutal grip or else he'd find himself on his knees, begging her for touch, for anything."

And on to where they go their separate ways from a textual perspective;

"Elain only shrank further into herself, no trace of that newfound boldness to be seen.”

“Rhys kissed the hollow of my collarbone, and my core went utterly molten. “My brave, bold, brilliant mate.”

“You can give everyone that I Will Slay My Enemies look—which is my favorite look, by the way. You can keep that sharpness I like so much, that boldness and fearlessness. I don’t want you to ever lose those things, to cage yourself.”

“And he had the nerve once his powers were back to shove me into a cage. The nerve to say I was no longer useful; I was to be cloistered for his peace of mind.”

“Remember that you are a wolf. And you cannot be caged.” He kissed my brow one more time, my blood thrumming and boiling in me, howling to draw blood.”

I think finding freedom and power from within is something that the books have emphasized through Feysand and Nessian's journey's. Which is so interesting considering Lucien and Elain are both feeling tied to each other, as if in a cage of sorts.

Elain herself has been stuffed in to a box of other peoples making throughout most of the series, it quite prevalent she might feel caged by their opinions of who she is.

"Maybe she was never given a chance to be that way." I whipped my head towards him. "You think I stifle her?" Rhys held up his hands. "Not you alone."

“Nesta had been right. It was like a prison, this place.” [Graysen's Manor]

“Shall I tend to my little garden forever?” When Nesta flinched, Elain said, “You can’t have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater.”

“She ignored me, and saw Elain as barely more than a doll to dress up, but Nesta was hers. Our mother made sure we knew it. Or she just cared so little what we thought or did that she didn’t bother to hide it from us.”

And as for Lucien I think his duty and honour to her is what is caging him;

“I can’t stand to be in the same room as her for more than two minutes. I can’t stand to be in this court and have your mate pay for the very clothes on my back.”

“Why are you here?” Cassian asked, unable to help the sharpness. “Where’s Elain?”

“I am not always in this city to see my mate.” The last two words dripped with discomfort.”

“Why?” Not a flicker of emotion. “He is Elain’s mate.”

I waited. “It would be an invasion of her privacy to track him.”

Godbless Azriel for respecting Elain's privacy.

I think we would see/understand a lot more if we got a chance inside their heads but the one time we did see Lucien's POV we got a good glimpse at how he feels about his situation with Elain and it wasn't particularly positive and reminded me of Rhy's parents.

"She’d seen him not as a High Lord’s seventh son, but as a male. Had loved him without question, without hesitation. She had chosen him. Elain had been … thrown at him.”

“...to remember that she picked it. Picked me. That it’s not like my parents, shoved together.”

Not using the word cage per say but the implication isn't much better.

“You know them better than I do. But I will say that Lucien is loyal—fiercely so.”

“So is Azriel.”

I don't think the debate is really whether Lucien is deserving of her, or even Azriel for that matter, it is a question of who is actually right for her and vice-versa, who has she been consistently written to thrive and smile alongside. And that is Azriel.

Why does Sarah constantly put Azriel in the picture, from day DOT. She was screaming "hey look Azriel is here, and they would work magically together"

“And I think Elain—Elain would like it, too. Though she’d probably cling to Azriel, just to have some peace and quiet.” I smiled at the thought—at how handsome they would be together.”

There are several instances/evens that occur throughout the series that set both Elucien and Elriel's relationships apart, and I think it is highly intentional on Sarah's part...

“I said quietly, “We will get her back.” But Lucien was watching me warily. Too warily.”

“From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.” Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.”

Or we can look at both Solstice's and the clear differences in how their relationships are growing, and also how well one and other know each other.

“Tell me when you knew,” he demanded, his knee pressing into mine. “That Rhysand was your mate. Tell me when you stopped loving Tamlin and started loving him instead.”

“He left the rest unspoken. Because her mate was here, sleeping a level up. Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn't stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option of leaving if it became too much. Elain's large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that.”

“I want to see her. Just once. Just—to know.” “To know what?” He hitched my damp cloak higher around us. “If she is worth fighting for.”

“Azriel stiffened. “I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all.” Az hadn’t so much as hesitated before going into the heart of Hybern’s war-camp.”

GIFTS REFLECTING THEIR RELATIONSHIP MILE MARKS

“Az ran a hand through his dark hair. “Are we …” Unusual for him to stumble with words. “Are we supposed to get the sisters presents?”

“I handed Elain the small box with her name on it. Her smile faded as she opened it. “Enchanted gloves,” she read from the card. “That won’t tear or become too sweaty while gardening.” She set aside the box without looking at it for longer than a moment. And I wondered if she preferred to have torn and sweaty hands, if the dirt and cuts were proof of her labor. Her joy.”

“Don’t forget that gardening often results in something pretty, but it involves getting one’s hands dirty along the way.” “And torn up by thorns,” I mused,”

“I didn’t dare mention that if she had been wearing the enchanted gloves Lucien had gotten her last Solstice, nothing would have pierced them at all.”

“He and Lucien did not exchange gifts, though the male had brought a gift for Feyre and one for his mate, who barely thanked him after opening the pearl earrings. Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing."

Not only is she visibly uninterested which is painful to watch, it also highlights how little he knows about her. SJM is creating a visible gap in their dynamic.

“The golden necklace seemed ordinary -- its chain unremarkable, the amulet tiny enough that it could be dismissed as an everyday charm. It was a small, flat rose fashioned of stained glass, designed so that when held to the light, the true depth of the colors would become visible. A thing of secret, lovely beauty. “It's beautiful," she whispered, lifting it from the box. ”

“My Nesta. Elain shall wed for love and beauty, but you, my cunning little queen … You shall wed for conquest.”

“I painted flowers for Elain on her drawer,” I said, sawing and sawing. “Little roses and begonias and irises. And for Nesta … ”

“She plucked another figurine from the mantel: a rose carved from a dark sort of wood. She held it in her palm, its solid weight surprising, and traced a finger over one of the petals. “He made this one for Elain. Since it was winter and she missed the flowers.”

“Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. “It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.”

“I led her into the sitting room, where Cassian had a bottle of amber-colored liquor in each hand, Azriel was already rubbing his temples,”

“She hadn't bought her mate a present. But she'd gotten Azriel one last year -- a headache powder he kept on his nightstand at the House of Wind. Not to use, but just to look at. Which he'd done every night he’d slept there.”

“Azriel unwrapped the box, glancing at the card that merely said, You might find these useful at the House these days, and then opened the lid. Two small, bean-shaped fabric blobs lay within. Elain murmured, "You put them in your ears, and they block any sound. With Nesta and Cassian living there with you...”

See yet again a very thoughtful and funny gift on her part. Now at it's core even just simply comparing their general reactions says a lot about the story Sarah is putting forward.

"Silence again. Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed. I’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous.”

“He chuckled, unable to suppress the impulse. "No wonder you didn't want me to open it in front of everyone."

Elain’s mouth twitched into a smile. "Nesta wouldn't appreciate the joke.”

“Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly."

"Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing."

“She hadn't bought her mate a present. "

The writing is nothing if not clear about the discomfort both Lucien and Elain feel in regards to each other, though they lay under different reasons.

We are given multiple incidents in which we are told about how mating bonds are not perfect and we are given clear examples of it repeatedly, about woman enduring out of obligation, and do not forget this is heavily discussed literally in regards to Elain and her circumstances.

“She’d been revealed as his mate, and endured the miserable union mostly from gratitude for her unharmed wings.”

“You said your mother and father were wrong for each other; Tamlin said his own parents were wrong for each other.” I peeled off my dressing robe. “So it can’t be a perfect system of matching. "

“She glowed with good health. Except … Her brown eyes were wary. Usually, that look was reserved for Lucien. The male was definitely in the family room,”

“Elain had already departed with Feyre, claiming she had to be up with the dawn to tend to an elderly faerie’s garden. Cassian didn’t exactly know why he suspected this wasn’t true. There had been some tightness in Elain’s face as she’d said it. Normally when she made such excuses, Lucien was around,”

“Elain, the wretch, had taken the seat between Feyre and Varian, about as far from Lucien as she could get.”

“That smile grew, bright enough that it lit up even Azriel’s shadows across the room. “I would like to build a garden,” she declared. “After all of this … I think the world needs more gardens.”

“Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly, and she gave him a shallow nod of greeting before brushing past, leading Nesta into the room.”

What if ”—I jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden—“that is what she needs? Is there no free will? What if Lucien wishes the union but she doesn’t?”

“Can you truly fly?” He set down his fork, blinking. I might have even called him self-conscious. He said, “Yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We’re born hearing the song of the wind.” “That’s very beautiful,” she said. “Is it not—frightening, though? To fly so high?”

“ I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, “Beautiful.” Color bloomed high on Azriel’s golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them.”

“This is Truth-Teller,” he told her softly. “I won’t be using it today—so I want you to.”

“Never, Rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife.”

The romantic subtext is there and has been for quite some time, they prove it book after book when SJM continues to grow their bond and nurture it whilst breaking her connection with Lucien further apart, and for what reason?

“A mating bond can be rejected,” Rhys said mildly, eyes flickering in the mirror as he drank in every inch of bare skin I had on display. “There is choice. And sometimes, yes—the bond picks poorly. Sometimes, the bond is nothing more than some… preordained guesswork at who will provide the strongest offspring. At its basest level, it’s perhaps only that. Some natural function, not an indication of true, paired souls.”

“Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?” [...]

“I’m serious.” I turned toward him and crossed my arms. “What decides it? Who decides it?” Rhys straightened his lapels before plucking an invisible piece of lint from them. “Fate, the Mother, the Cauldron’s swirling eddies …”

“What if the Cauldron was wrong?”

“Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them.”

“The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another.”

It is remarkably interesting to me that we are told about what Rhys suspects/believes is responsible for mating bonds, paralleled alongside Azriel questioning it all, I also think it is abundantly clear from his answer to Feyre he doesn't truly know for sure.

We also have several lines of dialogue talking about the sisters and fate, their reason for entering the IC's life. Not only that but we get a glimpse at Azriel's personality and how despite the world (Rhys and the mating bond in general) telling him to despair, he still found it in him to have hope the Cauldron could be wrong.

This is so significant, and she has carefully woven his character throughout the series to make this incredibly plausible.

“If I had not met a shadowsinger, I would not have known that it is the family you make, not the one you are born into, that matters. I would not have known what it is to truly hope, even when the world tells you to despair.”

“And then he said to my sisters, “We have not known each other for long. But I have to believe that you were brought here, into our family, for a reason, too. And maybe today we’ll find out why.”

“All three sisters blessed by fate and gifted with powers to match your own.”

“Even after the bond is rejected, they see her as belonging to them. Sometimes they return to challenge the male she chooses for herself. Sometimes it ends in death. It is savage, and it is ugly, and it mercifully does not happen often, but …”

“Oh, I can, and I will. If Lucien finds out you're pursuing her, he has every right to defend their bond as he sees fit. Including invoking the Blood Duel.”

As you can see even back in ACOWAR she was weaving the web for Elriel's journey and an upcoming Blood Duel/The threat of one.

“Many mated pairs will try to make it work, believing the Cauldron selected them for a reason. Only years later will they realize that perhaps the pairing was not ideal in spirit.”

I think it is pretty clear from all the quotes above that Lucien is no her ideal spirit and vice-versa to be frank when you put it side by side his budding relationship with Vassa or hers with Azriel they are clearly very different.

“On the continent, there are territories that believe the females literally belong to their mate. But not here. Elain would have our full protection if she rejects the bond.”

“Azriel's hand slid up her neck, burying in her thick hair. Tilting her face the way he wanted it. Elain's mouth parted slightly, her eyes scanning his before fluttering shut. Offer and permission. He nearly groaned with relief and need as he lowered his head toward hers. ”

Elain is choosing Azriel, choosing their bond over the one assigned to her time and time again... Back to mating bonds;

“The ancient healer jerked her chin toward Lucien. “See what he can do. If anyone can sense if something is amiss, it’s a mate.”

“The mating bond. It is a bridge between souls.”

"She pointed at Lucien as she saw herself out. “Try sitting down with her. Just talking—sensing. See what you pick up. But don’t push.”

“Can you hear mine?” He wasn’t sure if she truly meant to address him, but he said, “No, lady. I cannot.”

Her too-thin shoulders seemed to curve inward. “No one ever does. No one ever looked—not really.”

"Azriel’s hazel eyes churned as he studied my sister, her too-thin body. And without a word, he winnowed away. Mor watched the space where he’d been standing long after he was gone.”

“Should we—does she need …?” “She doesn’t need anything,” Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien.

Elain was staring at the spymaster now—unblinkingly. “We’re the ones who need …” Azriel trailed off. “A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.”

“It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. The male who heard things others could not … Perhaps he, too, had suffered as Elain had before he understood what gift he possessed.”

“But Azriel nodded. “You knew,” he said to Elain. “About the young queen turning into a crone.” Elain blinked and blinked, eyes clearing again. As if the understanding, our understanding … it freed her from whatever murky realm she’d been in.”

Are you telling me that Madja saying a mate would know, would sense whatever is going on with her, and as it turns out Azriel was the one to sense and uncover it is solely what, a coincidence? Also to emphasize what she said about "A bridge between souls..." Where else have we heard that terminology? The Truth-Teller scene.

“I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection … that knife.”

Not to mention this scene is simply iconic for a multitude of reasons, how poetic Feyre describes them, the clear soulmates/ying-yang subtext and him giving her something he has given no other but that's another story.

Azriel has also been displaying some very protective fiercely so mating vibes towards her,

“Azriel stilled. “What happened to Elain?” Cassian waved a hand. “A fight with Nesta. Don’t bring it up,” he warned when Azriel’s eyes darkened. ”

“Cassian surveyed the shadows gathered around Az. “You all right?” His brother nodded. “Fine.” But shadows still swarmed him.”

“Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.”

“Azriel’s Siphons guttered, the stones turning as dark and foreboding as the deepest sea. “Where did Lucien go.”

I think there are some mixed opinions on Lucien and whether he deserves her (and vice-versa in this fandom) but I don't think that is what this comes down too, they are both handling it in the way they think best/following their instincts.

Lucien is hurting throughout this process as well, but I think ultimately it is honor and loyalty binding him to her not any genuine emotion for her as a human being fae. I think realising they are not meant for each other and supporting each other developing true bonds with other people will be their journey. And it would be a completely fresh and new view of a mating bond.

Smaller pieces of dialogue that need little explaining and a rather oddly specific choice of words in the latest book that is meant to set up the next one in the series:

“You’d know if she’d died,” Azriel said, pausing his work and looking up at Cassian. He tapped his brother’s chest with a scarred hand. “Right here—you’d know, Cass.”

“Elain and Feyre—that was the new status of things. The bond Elain had chosen.”

"I'd never do such a thing. you must be thinking of your other mate."

Honestly? At this rate I have no doubt Elriel are endgame and everything within canon text spells that out but I truly believe he will be her second mate/the will form a bond via some circumstance that shall arise due to these little hints.

I would love to hear your thoughts and/or additions because I by all means didn't do a massive deep dive and there are most likely tons more examples to add but I didn't want it to become overwhelming to read!

Hope everyone has a spectacular and magical evening <3

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel #elain x azriel #azriel x elain #acotar #acosf #acowar #acomaf #a court of thorns and roses #elriel mates #elriel theories #elriel metas #anti elucien #tb safe and all that #dont want it falling in the wrong tag #c

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delicrieux · 3 years

Text

—MAKE YOU SAY “OH” EXTRAS: TINDER

extra meaning non-canonical occurrence; can be placed anywhere in the “make you say oh” timeline after couple (cha. 14) and before the final “oh”.

pairing—corpse husband x f!reader warnings—tinder profiles, tw: men, swearing. word count—2.6k. format— written. ─── ❥ req by nonnie: y/n makes a youtube vid/live stream where she's just swiping through her tinder acc and corpse literally blocks her lmao

author’s note—akldsljfs this was such a funny idea i could not not write it lmao

ultimate masterlist. myso masterlist

You have pulled the biggest brain move by setting up both a facecam and a screen recorder on your phone. All is beautifully displayed and visible during the stream. Your fanbase is particularly intrigued on what exactly are you planning on doing today, seeing as your tweet of “strea” had been a bit vague, if not downright ominous. No emojis. No elaboration. You couldn’t even be bothered to finish the word. Truly, a mystery. Everyone tuned in and are currently waiting with bated breath.

A few of your fans must sense upcoming doom because the overall mood in the chat turns from optimistically intrigued to...evil. It’s an entity all on it’s own now, clawing at you through the screen with various renditions of laughter and devil emojis. A few eggplants thrown in there for good measure, accompanied, naturally, by the scandalous water drops. At first the common consensus is that you’re biting the bullet and going through your camera roll on stream. Definitely an idea worth considering, though you frankly don’t know what lies at the start of the 11k photograph journey, and you are afraid to check in public. Could be a harmless meme, could be a salacious pic you had saved of an OF star. It’s really a gamble. Either way, you would definitely get banned. You might still get banned. Why do you insist on doing shit like this?

Because it’s funny. Because you’re kinda stupid. Because it’s just so absolutely laughably easy to do.

A smile quirks your lips, and while it is not explicitly smug, the look in your eyes sure is, “Greetings,” You utter lowly, dimming the lights--the budget for this stream! Ugh, you went all out, “my children.”

mother i crave violence

sensing evil energy rn!!

i do not claim the energy in this video for myself or anyone else watching this 💖💖

^with peace and love shut the fuck up

“I know y’all lowkey hoes-” Upon your words the chat splits into two: one side eagerly agrees (even shares a few OF accounts! How helpful, supporting small businesses!), whilst the other feverishly insists on innocence. You make a face stuck somewhere between offended and bewildered, “Now c'mon now-I know you. I know you all. We’re the same, don’t-what was that?”

You try to scroll back to the comment but it’s loss in the sea of incoming messages, “I swear to God I just saw-”

Corpse_Husband: i love late night streams it’s not like i have anything better to do.

“COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORPSE!!!!”

rip headphone users

i cant feel my face when im with you by the weeknd but instead of face its my fucking ears

yall think full vol on pc is better?my parents woke up 😭😭😭😭

To think he’s spending his last waking moments for today with watching you (he probably still would have anyway, because you do not posses an ounce of shame or self-control and pester him relentlessly)! It makes your heart sing, and suddenly, a traitorous, fun hating idea barges it’s way through the crowd of incoherent buzzing and states: don’t do this. For some reason it also has the voice of Rae. As if that would work in guilt-tripping you- Rae never succeed, and her fictitious rendition in mind won’t fare much better either.

Still, you thought about it. That must count for something. Corpse will understand, won’t he? Why don’t you want to upset it in the first place? Men look so funny when they lose their shit, like hello, don’t you have anything better to do? But the image of Corpse just sitting there, hurt, distraught, leaving you on seen because he’s in his sad boy hours leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

queen rly went from 🥺😊 to 😕 u ok bbgirl?

Corpse_Husband: no pouts cutie

akjdjoeijdfse cUTIE??? deadass boutta r.i.p.

Well that succeeded in eliminating everything from mind, doubts included. If this was an anime, the scenery would shift into something roseate, with flowers and bubbles and sparkles all around you along with a halo or two. Alas, not an anime, rather reality. The led-lights, however, seemingly possessing a will of their own, slowly turn from deep violet to pink. You smile brightly, like the absolute dumbass you are, and you are met with a ray of heart and blushing emojis. You are just so cute, a real cutie! Still in your disguise adorable state, you swipe your finger on your phone screen, the grin never leaving your lips.

There, among the plethora of apps, nestled sits a red square with a white fire plastered on it. The delicate calligraphy on the bottom reads: TINDER.

The mood changes once again- you’re giving the roaches emotional instability by how quickly everything flips over- and the chat spams eggplants vigorously; some, of course, bravely fight against the thirst.

nooooooo i thought y/n is gonna stream in a god honoring way!!!

^pack it up girl defined

“So, Charlie and I-” You note a few awfully curious comments and squint, “-yes, we talk a lot. Charlie is a really good friend of mine. We’re best friends. Brothers. Sisters. Cousins. The whole fucking family tree-no, that sounds weird. Delete. Anyway, Charlie, being the absolute fucker he is, said, hey, you know what would be funny? And I was like, nooo, what would be funny, Charlie? And he says to me, he says, says, making fun of men on Tinder. And if y’all need any more proof that Charlie and I are platonic soulmates, then dunno, my children, my roaches, I dunno-I dunno what more to give you.”

You can’t be bothered reading the comments, there’s too damn many. You also need to save your reading comprehension for the actual bios. It has a time limit, that darn thing.

“Okay, so I made a profile earlier, but I hadn’t swiped on anyone yet-” Despite the fact, Tinder helpfully informs you that already 99+ people have swiped right on you, “So, this is me,” You show the pictures you have of yourself, and damn, not to be a conceited narcissist, but you look really good. Like if you saw yourself on Tinder, you’d super like instantly. “Uhm, so, my bio-my bio says: let’s sauce in the tub together, ya dig? splishy splashy, giggle giggle.”

i cant believe we are witnessing y/n trying to form a coherent sentence live

shes trying give her time

ya dig??? y not capeesh

what scene from the godfather is this lol?

“My anthem, is,” You laugh, covering your lips with your hand, “Corpsie, this is form you-” Proudly, you show that indeed, Corpse’s E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY FUCKING LIFE is listed as your anthem on Spotify, “Hehe.” Yes, you say that aloud.

Corpse_Husband: you’re killing me Corpse_Husband: thanks baby Corpse_Husband: now delete tinder ❤︎

You ignore his last quip, deciding it’s finally time to get this show on the road, “Right, let’s do this shit. I’m not actually going to swipe on any guys that look, uh, decent? Yuck, can’t believe I just said that, uhm, because I-because I feel like some actually deserve a chance with someone? I don’t wanna get anyone’s hopes up, as I am currently in a long distance relationship with Chrollo. So I’m just gonna swipe on, like, frat boy assholes. Because I don’t care if I hurt their feelings. Quite frankly I don’t think they possess them in the first place.”

The chat voices their agreements. With the ground rules set, you, giddy, click on the first profile.

Does Tinder know what you’re doing, your plan? The FBI agent watching you through your phone must be working overtime, bless his heart. They must, because the the first guy to meet you is named Jason, and there he is, blond hair and blue eyes, holding up a fish the size of his torso. Marginally adequate in looks, pretty good muscles. A solid 7 bordering on 8. He’s the same age as you, 15 miles away, and he studies at some college you don’t care enough to look up. Bio reads:

I like to drive fast. Fishing is my passion, but if you can’t catch me by the ocean, you’ll catch me catching waves, bro! Love a good gym date. You do squats, and I’ll keep a close eye to make sure you’re doing it correctly ;) You probably saw me at a party. Leader of the The Phi Kappa Psi. I’m a Gemini, if that matters lol.

You, of course, read it aloud, dramatically; provide some constructive criticism-he seems nice, but he’s a Gemini, so naturally, you can’t trust him at all! Also, that gym date session leaves little to be desired. With your rant done, you swipe right, and shocker! (not), it’s an instant match.

“Okie, I still wanna swipe of some profiles, so I’ll see what he’ll text later-” For a second you wonder the legalities of this stream, but you’re having too much fun to think of it further, “guys, I won't get sued, right?”

NOW she considers it

well....

if you do, we’ll kickstart your lawyer dw <3

Onto the next profile. Kevin, 25, is seen fixing his car- or, you assume he’s mid-fixing it, you don’t really know why else he’d hold a wrench and be covered in oil. He’s shirtless, and the caveman part of your brain echoes something closely resembling AWOOOGA!, but...but!...blonde hair, blue eyes. You pout again, “I don’t...I don’t really like blond boys, ya know? With the blue eyes and all, it’s just not my thing, uhm, unless it’s like-like...Armin from Attack on Titan. Else I don’t care.”

Onto the bio:

You have to treat a car like you treat a woman: go on long rides, take the lead, but most importantly, keep her oiled up 😜

“What the fuck did I just read?”

The chat is equally confused. You swipe right anyway- another match. Too easy.

The stream continues without incident for a solid thirty minutes- all of your matches, expect a few that genuinely looked like normal dudes that really couldn’t write a decent bio to save their lives, had been blond hair blue eyed gym rats with ranging forms of misogyny. Some opened with asking for nudes out right, some asked about your day first before asking for nudes. You prefer the former. Straight to the point! You admire the gall.

But then, down the forty-five minute mark a profile popped up that made you still by your phone, your smile dying as your eyes bulged. Dear God. Lord in heaven. Who is this demonspiit lookalike and why is he so fucking hot? The neck tats, the skateboard, the clothes- holy shit, you gotta close your mouth before some drool dribbles out.

No bio, just his name, Tyler, and that he’s 23.

“He boutta be 23 in me.” You mutter, swiping right with lightning speed.

WHAT DID SHE SAYYYYY?????????

tyler is y/ns karma for relentlessly mocking that one guy that had a whole ass list on what his “female” partner should be

^he deserved it and also tyler seems like a typical fuckboi y/n grow a braincell

look at mom 🥺 her eyes are sparkling

It wasn’t a match right away. You somehow expected as much, but it still upset you. Simp behavior, pathetic. The stream continued bravely, and when Tyler messaged you a simple “yo” you totally didn’t sequel. You didn’t manage to text him back on stream: texting all those guys that you didn’t really find all that attractive was easy, but this...You’re a sucker for a man who radiates red flag energy. His whole profile is a red flag. He might just be a red flag himself.

What can you do? Suddenly becoming color blind is not easy. Once the stream ends, you unmatch with everyone expect Tyler. He you chat with for a bit, but a sudden craving for different company makes you abandon him, too. You don’t feel too heartbroken for him- you’re certain there’s already too many girls in his dms. You wish them luck.

Happily, you delete Tinder. You go to Twitter, notice you’re trending again- look at you go! Queen shit- and as you compose a thank you tweet, something strange happens. You go to text Corpse, but when you click on his profile you grow cold.

YOU’RE BLOCKED. You can’t follow or see @/Corpse_Husband ‘s Tweets.

...Pardon? You hop onto Instragram and-also blocked. Seriously? And you thought you’re one petty bitch. Corpse is seriously prissy about everything. Damn, if he didn’t like your stream, he could’ve just said so. Didn’t need to, like, block you from his internet existence. So not cool.

You try texting him but no text go through. Well how will you let him know you deleted Tinder just like he asked? You relieve your frustrations by punching your pillow a few times. Later, you apologize to her, you didn’t mean to hurt her, it’s not her, it’s you. Fuck, 5 minutes of exile and you’re already loosing your mind.

“Raeeeeeeeeeeee!” You whine loudly. It’s roughly 2am now, but you don’t care. You’re too heartbroken to care. There’s a thump from her room, but nothing else, “Raeeeeeeeee!!!” You wail, wallowing in self-pity on your bed. You hear a very loud, very annoyed sigh from her room, followed by angry marching. Your door is abruptly thrown open, and in the dim, colorful light you see her scowl.

“What?” She grits.

“Can you please tell Corpse to unblock me from everything?”

“What did you do now?”

“I made fun of men on Tinder.”

She pauses, “...That doesn’t sound so bad.” She surmises, voice laced with suspicion, “What else?”

“...There was one really hot guy that I kinda sorta talked to after--”

“Y/n.”

“-But I totally deleted Tinder and honestly he was pretty boring, so, like, uhm, please?”

She sighs, the servery of which implies she is holding the weight of the world on her shoulders, and instantly you know that you won. She taps away at her phone, “You owe me one.” She states, and before you can reply, she exits your room and slams the door behind her.

Grinning, you text his phone again. The message goes through, oh gosh, you’re so relieved you feel like crying. This has been, officially, the worst five minutes of your life.

You Y DID U BLOCK ME LOSER!!! MAJOR LOSER ALERT!! I DELETED EVERYTHING IT WAS A JOKE r u still mad at me? y u always mad at me i never do anything:(

my husband You’re my baby, how do you think I’ll react when I see you publicly simping for some asshole on Tinder?

Oh no, he used the words, he delivered the killing blow. You’re finished. Your heart can’t take such a workout.

Not that you would ever admit it to him, though!

You hehe ur jellyyyy u always dis jealous hehe?

my husband Not jealous.

Yeah, you might not be the brightest tool in the shed, but even you know that’s a lie. You send him an array of kissy emojis that he doesn’t have the decency to reply to. Then, completely unprompted and dead serious, you send him a simple voice memo, saying: “You really have nothing to worry about, you know? You’re my favorite, Corpsie.”

He responds via text, reiterating that he’s not fucking jealous and that he just doesn’t like when you show such outward interest in anyone but it’s not like he cares or anything. It’s just really, like, weeeeird to see his baby simping for another man like that totally ruins the whole dynamic!!! It was only natural that he should block you on every social media platform, including his personal number (which, like, was completely necessary! Doesn’t matter that his viewers can’t see it, it’s gotta be super believable!), and inform his followers of that, because it’s all a joke, like, for the dynamic, that Youtube grind, you know? Ya dig? No personal feelings were involved at all. He totally wasn’t upset that you found someone else cute, no way!

my husband I’m not jealous. Lol.

You ik u repeated tht like 50 times u trynna convince me or??? lmao

my husband No comment. ...You don’t actually talk to anyone else like we’re talking, right?

You no one else calls me their baby if thts wat ur wondering at least not to my knowledge lol im all urs

my husband That makes me very happy to hear:)

Yeah, it makes you very happy, too.

hope you liked it!! xx

#corpse husband #corpse husband x reader #corpse #corpse x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse x y/n #myso #make you say oh #imagine #imagines

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nat-20s · 3 years

Text

fill of @jonmartinweek day 6 prompt- flirting AND jealousy, though much heavier on the jealousy than the flirting. Set in a classic “season 5 jmart time travel bac to season 1″ au

~*~

“Mr. Blackwood-Sims, if I didn’t know any better, I would assume you’re trying to proposition me.”

“Mr. Sims-Blackwood, I would never. For one, neither of us are inclined towards those sorts of activities, for second, we’re both married men. What would my husband say?”

“I believe your husband would say he never specified exactly what you were propositioning, and he would be more than amenable to kissing, preferably sometime in the next few seconds.”

“Mmm, suppose I’ll have to find him and take him up on that, then. If that’s really how he feels.”

“Trust me, it most certainly is.”

Christ, would those two shut up already? Granted, it’s late enough that they probably think they’re alone in the archives, but, still. This is, technically, a work place, and Jon would’ve preferred not to have accidentally gotten an eyeful as he made his way past the open door in the breakroom. Now, the image of (supposedly) a future version of himself sitting on the couch, with (supposedly) a future version of Martin straddling his legs, using one hand to cup his face, and the other to run his hands through that Jon’s longer hair, was seared into his mind, and he hated it. Look, contrary to what people who don’t know him very well seemed to believe, he’s hardly a prude. He’s more than fine with descriptions of physical intimacy, as well as public displays of affection. If he’s being honest with himself, deep down, he doesn’t even care all that much about professionalism, especially considering it is after hours.

But of course, he’s not being honest with himself, because then he’d have to admit that it bothers him that it’s them. He doesn’t know what to call the acrid burning in the pit of his stomach, the too tight ache in his chest, that’s present whenever the fun house mirror versions of himself and Martin are besotted with each other, but he knows it’s there. It doesn’t help that he’s the only one that seems to be bothered by it, the only one that frowns at the flash of wedding rings or the orbit those two always seem to occupy around each other.

Or, no, he’s not the only one. Occasionally, while witnessing the two of them being...the Two of Them, he can’t help glancing over to Martin. Lo and behold, Martin also doesn’t look thrilled about all of this, usually skewing more towards confusion or, oddly enough, resignation. At least, that’s what Jon thinks he sees there, it’s one of the few times where he can’t fully get a read on Martin.

Still, as much as Martin might share in being somewhat perturbed, as anyone who meets their “future selves” should be, Martin doesn’t seem nearly as upset as Jon is. That brings him back to his current predicament of feeling that level of upset, but not being able to determine the root cause of it.

It is not that he’s jealous. It’s not! He does not feel a pang of envy at seeing someone who looks extremely similar to himself loving openly, and being openly loved in return. He doesn’t find his thoughts drifting to the imagined feeling of lips pressed to his temple or arms around his waist or fingers running through his hair. He certainly hasn’t looked down at his left hand and been disappointed by the fact that its bare. He doesn’t even want those things, as he’s been telling himself for a number of many lonely years. One of these days he might even believe it.

Fine. Fine. Maybe, but only maybe, there’s a part of him that’s jealous. Maybe there’s even a part of him that despairs, because try as he might he can’t connect point A to point B, can’t see the steps he would have to take to be like that other version of himself, and he knows his Martin (well, not his Martin, but..) will never look at him like that, will never see him in that light. And, damn it all, it hurts, so if they could kindly stop ru-

Oh. Wait. He can’t hear them outside his office door anymore. Huh, perhaps they-

“Knock knock.”

Startled out of his...contemplation, Jon looks up to find himself looking back. Sims is leaning against the door-frame, with mussed hair, swollen lips, and pupils blown wide. Jon loathes him and wishes to be him in equal measure. In a move he usually would’ve thought more characteristic of Tim, Sims doesn’t wait for a response, instead sitting himself across from Jon and saying, “Figured you’d still be here.”

Trying not to sound too much like he’s speaking through gritted teeth, Jon asks, “Did you now?”

Sims gives a lackadaisical shrug. “With any luck, you’re not going to become me. I not sure you can become me, at this point, diverging paths and all that. However, we do share the first 28 years of our lives, and I certainly didn’t believe in the concept of a work life balance, so why would you?”

“Is there something you wanted?”

“Yes, actually. I want you to ask out Martin, your moping is getting insufferable, and considering how much of our misery has been entirely outside of our control, you shouldn’t put up with what is in your power to fix.”

Jon blinks. Jon processes. Jon stammers. “I-what?! I am not, you can’t just-. Martin doesn’t even like me, and if you really were the same person as me, you know I’m not all that keen on him either.”

“Uh-huh. Is that why you can’t stop thinking about his hands?”

“I do no-”

Sims puts a hand up in surrender, though the smirk doesn’t entirely drop. “Sorry, sorry, I know that’s rather unhelpful. What I mean is, you’re already loved, right now, as you are. No, that love is not coming from Martin, but it could be,t because he doesn’t dislike you. He doesn’t know you, because you have done everything in your power to make sure he doesn’t. You also don’t know him, even though you’re interested in him, because you’ve been trying not to be. It’s stupid. Get to know each other. It’ll probably work out.”

“I...is that how you did it? Because this seems like an objectively terrible idea.”

Sims snorts. “God, no. It took a coma before I was able to untangle my own feelings. The whole point is that you won’t have to take the same looping, painful path that I did.”

Jon wants to reject it outright, almost does, and yet. “Fine.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes, really. Why?’

“Nothing, just. We’re usually a more stubborn on these sorts of things. I was expecting more of a fight.”

“Mm. Normally, I would be, but I’ve been forced to watch two rather obvious proof of concepts waltzing around in front of me, and agreeing will hopefully get you the hell out of my office.”

Sims studies him for a moment, then a surprised smile spreads on his face. “All right then.”

Jon makes a dismissive hand wave, and Sims obliges, and he spends the rest of the night trying not to think about what he’s agreed to.

~*~

The next day, about half an hour before the end of the work day, Jon calls Martin into his office. From his tight shoulders and carefully blank expression, it’s clear Martin very much does not want to be there. Great. This is going to go so well.

Jon gestures for him to sit, Martin does, and he dives in. “As we both now know, I don’t have the ability to fire you. In all reality, even though I am, on paper, your boss, I truly don’t have any power or authority over you.”

Martin leans back in his seat, letting a heavy pause fall between them before saying a stilted, “Okay?”

“So, I want you to know that I am about to ask you a question, and you have complete freedom and choice over your response, without fear of any negative consequences. Alright?”

“Um. Sure.”

Jon takes a breath, slowly lets it out, and bites the bullet. “Would you like to get dinner sometime?”

Martin stares. Then he squints. Then he studies. “Oh. Jon, you...we’re not them, you know that, right?”

“I’m aware.”

“So..why?”

Jon lets out a sigh, and tries to gather his thoughts in a way that makes sense to either of them. “Well, though I myself have some trouble with the concept, they’re not..entirely removed from who we are, and there’s enough foundation there that I have reason to believe we might...get on? Maybe we don’t, maybe we end up being friends, maybe we end up like them. That’s already enough to pique my own curiosity, but, alternate future versions of us aside, I mostly would just like to get to know more about you, and I’m hoping you might like to get to know me better as well.”

Martin’s shoulders relax, and he chews on his bottom lip for a moment before replying, “Okay. Yeah, why not?”

“Oh. Oh! Great! Does this Saturday work for you?”

“Works perfectly. Let’s give a shot.”

The first date is..fine. A Bit of a mess, but fine. The second date, however, is the best Jon’s ever been on. It’s so wonderful, in fact, that he doesn’t even mind when he catches Blackwood passing a fiver to Sims the day he can’t stop smiling at work.

#jonmartinweek2021 #jonmartin #jon sims #martin blackwood #tma #the ending is literally 'we wouldn't be compatible without trauma' 'oh bet?'#ALSO GOD THIS IS SO LONG FOR A FICLET HH

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