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#and the arrangement they used for the song was so good??? i wish i could listen to this version on yt
realnielsbohr · 4 months
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a few years ago i made an 8bit cover of lifetime achievement award for an assignment. its def not perfect and ive def improved on making 8bit stuff since then. however, this was and is a huge accomplishment i barely finish these things nowadays lol
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here's a screencap of the full song in all of its rainbow glory!
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4giorno · 1 year
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ummmmm oh yeah i like actually saw him two days ago
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murdrdocs · 11 months
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just read all your imagines and they are so good!! just on here to req anything hobie brown related cos god that man is so fine. maybe like a one-shot where they are fwb cos hobie doest do labels but gets jealous and then asks reader to be his gf and then shows her off to everyone. just like really anything u want to write tbh ✨✨
end of line | h. brown
description. being friends with benefits with your best friend, hobie brown, is fun and all, but you start to realize that maybe firm labels suit you better than whatever this is
includes. slight smut SUGGESTIVE 16+, fem!reader referred to as “girl”, fluff, sweet!hobie, pav gwen and miles mention, rockstar!hobie
a/n: i have no words this was supposed to be uploaded like a week ago but then i went to disney so ... sorry yall. also not edited well bc ... disney. edit: title from the song by daft punk bc tron <3
word count: 1.7k+
things are still in your bedroom. they always are right before he arrives.
you're not a psychic, nor do you have a "spider-sense" (which, with the creepy-sixth sense way hobie described it, you don't want one either), but you like to think that you can tell when he'll come by.
nights when you haven't heard much from him, but the sirens seemed to never stop outside, were usually when your window would creek as it slid up.
you listen out for the sound now as you finish painting your last nail. you'd used the quick dry polish tonight, in hopes that you wouldn't have a repeat of last time, when your fingernails weren't dried but hobie was incredibly impatient and when you were done, you'd realized that your right ring and pinkie fingers were smudged.
the bottle's closed, you'd blown on your nail to ensure it dried, and that's when your window slides open.
there's no point in looking back at him when he tumbles into the room. he starts mumbling complaints as soon as the window's closed, the sound of his shoes unlacing padding his words, something about some common thief who hobie was going to let go but then he went and messed with the lady on the street and her cat.
you'd lost the tail end of his words whenever he started walking closer to you. you sat up straighter, pushed everything out of the way, and waited for him to turn your chair around.
which, when he did, you looked up at him, small smile on your lips as you stared into his deep brown eyes.
"how's your night, hm?" he asked, a courtesy before getting to the real action.
you shrugged, pretending to think. "nothing. just a lot of this."
"no smashing societal standards? picking off misogynists one by one?"
a small laugh in the form of a snort from you. "nah. figured i'd take a day off, you know?" the sarcasm dripping from your words. that's not who you were. you wish you could've been like that, could've been like hobie. but there's one spider-person for a reason.
"oh, yeah, uh-huh..." and hobie trailed off as he leaned in, pointer finger hooking under your chin to pull your lips to his.
it always felt good to kiss hobie.
you'd fantasized about it for weeks before it actually happened. he's your closest friend at the moment, and he occupied the title before this arrangement even existed. and of course you had the worry about ruining your beautiful friendship if you became more, fear that you wouldn't be able to go back and you would subsequently lose probably the best friend you've ever had.
but that was no need to worry. because while you could let hobie pull you up and lead you to your bed, sitting back and pulling you into his lap while he kissed you with a tenderness you know so well, you could also just be friends with him, sitting side by side on the couch and having a movie marathon of horrible biopics without thinking about jumping each other's bones.
there's a balance here that you could only hope would've existed.
and it's never thrown off. not even when he pulls your shirt over your head and his full lips find your nipples and the slightly-faded marks he'd left a few days ago. not even when he switches your position, laying you back and kissing down your torso until he can bury his head between your legs. not even when you whine and cry just a bit, slightly begging for him to pull his suit off so he can fuck into you in a way that only he can.
you try not to think about the equilibrium of your relationship with hobie when your legs hook around his waist and the heels of your feet dig into your lower back. you try to solely focus on the way his cock fills you up perfectly, mostly long with the right amount of girth for your walls, tip reaching deep within you in an almost mind bending way.
but you can't help but think about the way hobie doesn't do labels when he helps you to your bathroom, where he lets the shower heat up while you sit in a shirt he left behind a few days ago when he'd shown up as just hobie brown and not spiderman. you can't help but think about being hobie's girlfriend when his big, veiny hands run along your skin after the shower, smothering you in shea butter as you struggle to hold your eyes open. and you don't bother attempting to fight off the lasting thought of being hobie's while he hums an unknown song to himself with your head on his chest, the deep sound of his voice and the vibration of his chest lulling you to sleep.
you need to be someone's.
the friends with benefits scenario was fun, it worked, it was glorious, but you don't think it's for you. and labels aren't for hobie.
so, you look elsewhere.
you're at hobie's show, standing in the back of the pub with a drink you weren't interested in, with some guy you really weren't all that interested in, either. but he smelled nice, and he seemed nice, and you were just looking to broaden your horizons just a bit.
you and hobie weren't exclusive, but maybe it's a little wrong to flirt with someone else at his show. but you were slightly upset, and craving attention, so it didn't matter.
not until hobie got off stage.
it took a while for him to roam over to you, but even then you were still entertaining the other guy. giggling, tilting your head, batting your eyelashes, your hip popped out and a manicure, that was still fresh, blinging as your hand rested on the bone.
he greets you with a term of endearment that he uses often, but it feels different in this circumstance. you tell yourself that it feels different because you want it to feel different.
"oi, babe! who's this bloke?"
his arm slings over your shoulder and you tense under it. your hands folding over your chest, your smile tightening a little.
“uh this is steven.” your hand reaches out to point to the man, a tight lipped smile spreading onto his lips.
“steven …” hobie repeats the name slowly, and without looking at him you can tell that he’s eyeing the guy up and down.
the air is stiff, the three of you are silent, and unfortunately, steven takes the hint to dismiss himself, and you instantly turn to hobie, a scowl on your face.
“what the fuck, hobes?” you’re pissed, but the nickname still slips off easily.
hobie shrugs and reaches into his back pocket, a cigarette appearing and he sticks it between his lips. instantly, your fingers pluck it out from his mouth, instead putting it in your own back pocket.
instead of looking upset, hobie looks amused. his hands reach out to grab your waist, and you want to give in, but you try to push his hands away instead.
hobie lets you, and you don’t know if your happy or upset with that.
“what’d you mean?”
you stare at him, deadpan, then gesture to where steven had walked away towards.
“you just cockblocked me!”
a cocky grin, almost a little condescending. “i didn’t ‘cockblock’ you, babes. you weren’t trying to get with that guy.” your eyebrow lifts and you can see realization come onto hobie’s face. “oh … you were?”
“yes! of course i was!”
“but why? you are i are together.”
“sure, hobes, but we’re not ‘together’.”
“yes we are.”
“no, we aren’t.”
“why do you think that?”
you suddenly feel a little insecure, eyes scanning the thinning crowd, ears noticing the way the volume in the pub is lowered. “because you’ve never put a label on it, bee.”
another layer of realization. hobie’s hands coming to your waist again, but this time you let him pull you in.
“i didn’t know we needed a label. but you’re my girl. and i’m your guy.”
your body heats up and you bite down onto your lower lip giddily, peeking up at hobie through your lashes.
"thought you didn't like relationships?"
"labels. i don't like labels."
there's a disruption in the atmosphere. goosebumps raise on your skin, the hair on the back of your neck sticks up, and even if you weren't aware internally, the way the magazine you were previously reading floats above the table would've tipped you off.
the portal opens shortly after, but you knew it was coming. it took hobie a while to tell you that he was spiderman, longer to convince you that he was spiderman, and a while longer to convince you of the existence society, and even though you know, you still get a little shocked whenever a portal opens.
he comes through first, thud of his heavy boots against the floor of his flat. the spoon in your mouth clings against the side of the bowl, your free hand reaches out to the tv remote to pause the episode as you look over at hobie.
"oi, didn't know you were still here." is all he says before he's walking over, pulling his mask off on the way, and leaning down. your head tilts up instantly to meet his lips in a kiss, your body warming with the way his hand pushes into the back of the couch, slender but muscular form caging you in.
you expect him to sit beside you and force you to give a recap of the episode, but he stands back, and then three other people come through the portal.
"oh ... are we expecting guests?" surprise sits in your words, the tone amplified when hobie takes your bowl of cereal out of your hands to finish it off himself.
"right," he speaks through mouthfuls, saying your name as an introduction to the other three. "this is pav, miles, and gwendy. spider people." you nod, waving at each.
"this here, is my girlfriend." three sets of spider-eyes widen with the admission and you can already sense what's coming.
"wow, you're pretty. 's nice to meet you."
"i knew it! i could sense the tension as soon as we got here."
"you have a girlfriend? wait. i thought you didn't like labels."
a small smile on your face as you tuck your hands in the pocket of hobie’s sweatshirt that you wear.
in coordination learned from how close you two are, you speak at the same time.
"he doesn't like consistency."
"don't like consistency, mate."
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wordbunch · 11 months
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how they care for you when you’re sick/injured but refuse to rest
a/n: requested by @tolkien-fantasy!! 💕 since i already did sth quite similar with Frodo/Sam/Merry/Pippin, this time I decided to include only the “big guys”, aka Aragorn, Boromir, Faramir, Éomer and Legolas. Also Fíli doesn't go here but I decided he will be here.☺️ I hope you enjoy, let me know your thoughts and opinions, and reblogs are always super appreciated!!!🥰🥰🥰
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Aragorn: He is literally just like that, even if he’s unwell he will keep pushing, and that is exactly why he immediately notices you do it too, and decides to put a stop to it. As much as he is loving and supportive and always respects your opinions and wishes, he is not taking ‘no’ for an answer when he deems that you really need to rest and recover. Luckily for you, he’s a legendary healer, so you will probably get better relatively soon. If he’s able to give you 100% of his attention and time during your recovery, he will literally feed you if he needs to, just so that you don’t exhaust yourself even more. Also he will quickly hush you if you begin to protest and insist that you’re fine and really have things to do! Sorry, king’s orders! Not just that, he will most definitely have your favorite food made for you, so that you don’t have to lift a finger (even though you want to). 
Boromir: You were both extremely busy on the day when Gondor was preparing for some big festival, and amid your errands you sprained your ankle, but you brushed it off because you wanted to personally oversee the flower arrangements. For the first and only time you were thankful not to see Boromir half the day because you knew he would make a small fuss about it immediately, so you limped on until you accidentally ended up tripping and stumbling backwards into a familiar strong chest. He looked at you suspiciously while you attempted to just brush it off as being clumsy, but he thought you looked a little bit pale and was not convinced. Before you could keep convincing him, he picked you up bridal style and carried you to your bed, having seen right through your act. Sadly he couldn’t have stayed with you the whole time as there were still some things to prepare, but he ran to you as often as he could to check if you were still resting, and to attack you with a flurry of reassuring kisses. Later in the evening he will 100% cuddle you until you both fall asleep wrapped up in each other, and he has no trouble carrying you around for days so that you don’t have to put weight on your injured leg - he enjoys doing it!
Legolas: Injuries and illnesses are not exactly something he is very familiar with, but he knows enough to be aware that they require rest and recuperation! His senses are sharp and he notices if you wince one time, and he is there in an instant. He will ask you what is wrong, what you need, etc. As much as Legolas he understands your restlessness and the constant need to be up and about, he needs you to understand that he’s worried and doesn’t want your condition to get worse. If it’s something very serious, he will immediately call Aragorn for help, but if it’s something minor, he thinks he should be able to handle it and support you through it. Before you know it, you’re not allowed to do anything under his watchful gaze but you’re bored!! No problem, though, he is more than ready to entertain you in any way he can, even if it means he has to sing you all the elvish songs since the beginning of time (and you will make good use of his promise to do that!). 
Éomer: Oh that is literally his BRAND because he’s out there being unstoppable even when something is wrong - and he is not letting his beloved be like that, not on his watch! He is also the type to carry you to bed despite your protests and you being like “I’m fine!” And he is like, alright then, but even if you’re fine, that doesn’t mean you can’t get some rest! No amount of your pouting is going to make him let up. Eventually when you finally admit you’re in pain, he will fuss over you a bit and he will literally try to cook something (he feels better when he can take action) and before you know it he’s making 4 different kinds of tea at the same time and things seem a bit chaotic… When you ask whether he’s sure he doesn’t need any help, he will insist that you just go and rest and that he has everything under control. Needless to say, you didn’t get to eat/drink everything that he started making cause he failed at many things, but you appreciate the love that went into it regardless!
Faramir: He can notice that something is off within like 0.3 seconds and multiple times throughout the day he will ask how you’re feeling and if something is wrong because he can sense that something is off, but he knows you well enough to know that you’d prefer to keep going on about your day, even when in pain. And then when you almost pass out you finally admit that you’re not feeling well, and you know he will immediately drop whatever else he is doing and just focus on you as much as he can until you’re perfectly recovered. More likely than not he is immediately looking for Aragorn because he is NOT taking any risks; although you try to reassure him that it might not be necessary. He knows how to be persistent and when he gives you puppy eyes with those gorgeous teal blue eyes… you have no choice but to let him do his thing.
Fíli: When it comes to you he is a very worried person and he likes to keep an eye on you as much as he can, so it doesn't take him long to become aware that you're acting...different. He is especially fussy if you get injured, and he will push everything and everyone else aside to nurse you back to health, and it literally becomes his number one priority. Fíli won''t hesitate to be even a little bit harsh if anyone comes to bother you or ask something of you before you're 100% recovered, so sometimes you gently reprimand him for it - you feel well enough to go and keep doing things! But good luck trying to convince him!
✨ taglist my beloved ✨ @lotrnonsense​​​​​​ @starlady66​​​​​​ @queenmeriadoc​​ @entishramblings​​​​​​ @thesolarangel​​​​​​ @silversword7000 ​​​​​​ @friendofthefellowshipsnerdblog @averys-place @valkyriepirate ​​​​​​ @emmaarenstarr @noldorinpainter ​​​​​​ @asianbutnotjapanese @adamgetawaydriver ​​​​​​ @fenharel-enaste ​​​​​​ @ironmandeficiency ​​​​​​      @starryeyedrogue ​​ @dinofromspac3  @wisheduponastar ​ @lady-of-imladris @frodo-cinnamonroll @unethicallypleistocene @deadlymistletoe @suncran @sillyvampireboi
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shanastoryteller · 9 months
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Happy Pride! Could you do more of the fem mxy!wwx identity porn? I hope you have a great day 🌻
a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42
Jiang Yanli sees the Lan party approaching and cant help the spike of anxiety that shoots through her.
First is Lan Xichen and A-Yao, who greet Madame Jin and Jin Guangshan formally and respectfully, without a hint of resentment for what they've put them through, for allowing them to arrange this alliance only to yank the promised marriage out from under them.
She knows better than to think there isn't any, but their serene expressions give nothing away. Lan Xichen's amiable mask hides a warm, peaceable center. A-Yao's hides a bitterness and cleverness so great that to this day she thinks it a tragedy that A-Yao hadn't grown up among the Yu.
They make look similar on the surface, but Lan Xichen and A-Yao’s relationship is proof that opposites really do attract.
A-Yao says something that causes Madame Jin’s face to tighten. Then they’re stepping back and Lan Wangji is stepping forward, but he’s not the one she cares about.
Xuanyu stands by his side, back straight and eyes forward, seemingly comfortable and at ease with Lan Wangji in a way that few people manage. Her expression when she faces her father is strained, but she stands close enough to Lan Wangji that their sleeves threaten to tangle together, so she assumes that strain is all that to Jin Guangshan and not Xuanyu’s husband.
“I told you she’s be fine,” Zixuan murmurs.
She wishes they were somewhere less public where she could get away with elbowing him in the ribs or at least stepping on his foot.
“Yanli-jie!” Xuanyu is waving at her, bounding forward without a thought to propriety. Both Lan Wangji and A-Yao are exasperated while Lan Xichen just seems outright fond, which is even more a balm to her worry than Xuanyu’s hopefully good relationship with her husband. A sect leader’s affection is nothing to sniff at, and even if Lan Wangji has little use for his bride, he would not upset his brother by treating someone he’s fond of callously.
“Meimei,��� she returns and watches Xuanyu’s grins stretch to almost painful levels as the young woman reaches out to grab her hands. Xuanyu had felt so cold to the touch before, but now her hands are warm, and with several new callouses. She looks stronger too, thicker around the waist and the flesh of her cheeks, and it’s a relief to see her strengthened in both body and spirit.
Her grin eases and she becomes subdued as she inclines her head to Zixuan. “Jin Zixuan.”
He returns it, eyeing her speculatively, but it’s not a surprise. Jiang Yanli’s not sure if the two of them have ever had a real conversation.
“I brought some extra guests,” Xuanyu says. “Sorry.”
She gestures behind her and Jiang Yanli follows her hand and then blinks rabidly, but the vision in front of her doesn’t change. Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen stand there, along with a blind girl that she doesn’t remember seeing before. “It’s not a problem, Meimei. You’ll have to tell me that story of how they came to join you.”
Lan Wangji raises an eyebrow, looking down at Xuanyu who pointedly ignores his gaze. That makes Jiang Yanli nervous, but it doesn’t seem to be tinged with any true animosity. She’s more than familiar what that looks like on Lan Wangji.
“It was uh – recent. So recent that I’m in need of a proper bath and a new set of robes, actually.” She leans in to whisper, loudly enough that they can all hear her just fine, “I switched out my over robe for something less damaged and bloodstained.”
Lan Wangji sighs deeply. Xuanyu rolls her eyes, which seems like a good sign.
“Oh dear,” Jiang Yanli says, affecting wide eyes and a gentle concern that’s only a little fake. For a moment, a smirk steals across Xuanyu’s face before she smooths it out again, which nearly distracts Jiang Yanli from her play here. Not even A-Yao had picked up on her act the first time she used to it. “That sounds so harrowing and awful. Please, let me escort you to my rooms – you can use my bath and I can help you with your hair. We are sisters, after all.”
“Of course, Yanli-jie,” she says, eyes bright with humor. It’s refreshing to do this with someone who’s in on the joke from the beginning and isn’t A-Cheng. “That’s so kind of you, how can I possibly refuse?”
Both of their husbands look put out as they walk away together, arm in arm. Maybe this will finally give Zixuan and Lan Wangji something to talk about.
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yaekiss · 9 months
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#Mailroom Open!- Hello, I would like to request a love letter for Alhaitham. NSFW and Yandere response please, and any pet names work but if you could use Habib that would be great 💖 (I hope I did this right)
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"To my favorite feeble scholar,
I hope this letter is finding you well! I have arrived safely in Fontaine and haven't known a moment of peace since I have arrived. The chaotic cocktail of getting settled into a new city, preparing for this research project, and missing home makes me yearn for the simpler times spent in Sumeru.
Especially my time spent with you.
Thats enough of my lamenting, how fare things with you back home? Have you finally shaken the title of acting Grand Sage yet? Is Kaveh being too much of a "menace"? (Also, please let him know his mother says hello and sends her best wishes to you both). Regardless, I hope you are taking care yourself. Archons know I can't ensure you are eating well while I'm nations away. I will just have to trust that you are treating yourself with the same kindness I would extend to you.
On the topic of kindness, I have a gift for you attached to this letter. I know while I am here doing my research for the next six months we won't be able to have our usual meetings at Lambad's to discuss books over good food, but I hope these books will entertain you well during my absence.
I'm eagerly counting down the days until I can see you again. I find myself thinking of you often and it is a truly vexing experience to see you on whim like I would do so before. It makes the days seem to drag on even longer, but I pray time will fly by regardless of this.
-Sincerely, your wayward scholar
[In a simply decorated box, there are three books: one is on the topic on Fontaine's hydro transportation system and infrastructure, the second is about the complexities surrounding Fontaine's judicial system, and lastly is an infamous and popular erotica anthology from Fontaine (think the Karma sutra but French)]
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꩜ Letter Content: Dom! GN! Reader x Yan! Sub! Alhaitham, Alhaitham calls you "habib", lightly implied abuse of power, unhealthy possessive and obsessive relationship from Alhaitham, mentions of sex toys, lmk if I missed out anything ! ꩜ Delivery Notes: He tipped me extra and requested me to be extra careful with the delivery so I'll hand it over to you directly instead of leaving it at your door as per usual procedure! ꩜ Wanna write a love letter yourself? Check out it out here!
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There’s a knock at your door when you’re relaxing in your room, opening it shows a hotel staff member who passes you a delivery. And it doesn’t take a genius to know it’s from your beloved feeble scholar.
Alhaitham sends you a simple package, nothing too gaudy or showy, just a few accents of turquoise to denote who the sender is. It’s secure and durable, perfect for weathering long and bumpy trips. 
When you open up the package, you find a few gifts he carefully arranged so that nothing would be broken if the contents were jostled around a little too hard. Gingerly, you lift out a lacquered box which reveals a set of headphones and a music player that’s almost identical to the one he owns. It rests in its cushioned groove in the box with the colours of the device matching your favourites instead of the shades of green on his set.
There’s a small note attached to the music player, “In case you ever miss me too much, you’ll have my voice as background noise for your moping, habib.” On the back of it, he’s written something akin to a track list. Flicking through the different audio files for a quick sample, you realise there’s one for every mood. Tracks with words of encouragement (...or as encouraging as someone like Alhaitham can get), ones scolding you for overworking. There’s even a really cute one where he softly hums a love song that both of you adore, his voice low and soothing. However, the best track of all might be the one where you get to hear his grunts and moans, as if he were right next to your ear in person. The sounds are so sinful and wet, you could just picture him grinding on his dildo, trying to reach his peak. And the way he pitifully breaths out a “I c-can’t cum witho- AH! -without you!” has you yearning for him yet again.
Taking the headphones off before you get too carried away, you retrieve his letter in the package. The envelope is the one from his Grand Sage office, not that he ever really uses them for work purposes. Inside it, his reply is written on parchment, the kind that’s provided for him due to his high position once again. His handwriting is as tidy as ever, the font and formatting standardised throughout the letter. His reply reads:
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“Reply for: My springtime sublimity,
I was wondering when you were going to write back to me. After all, there’s no way you would’ve forgotten me in the midst of your research or from meeting someone new, right? Regardless, you have not left my mind since your departure and I’m sure it’s the same for you too habib. 
Do let me know if the gifts are to your liking. I’ve managed to recreate my headphones and they will definitely be useful in blocking out anyone else who might be getting on your nerves or when you’re trying to focus on your research. I included my latest read in the package as well. I'd like for us to discuss our thoughts on the book, even if it’ll have to be done over pen and paper. I’m eager to hear your thoughts on it.
There’s also no reason for me to answer whether I’ve managed to resign from my title as Grand Sage, as evident from the envelope and parchment used. I simply have an unfortunate one last thing to wrap up before I can do so.
Moving on, habib, you know Kaveh is always a menace. I relayed his mother’s well wishes to him earlier and he just smiled. Now he’s locked himself in his room. I never have any idea what’s in that mind of his. It’ll be a miracle if I don’t have to drag him out before he starves. Although I must ask, since when were you privy to Kaveh’s background? I don’t recall him bringing it up around us. Habib, just how close are you to him? How close has he gotten to you? Do write back to me and explain.
Now, this is where I must thank you for your gifts. They all have proven to be succinct and informative. However, I must comment on the choice of one of the books. My, I knew you were lewd before, but to send me an erotica anthology habib? Though, I never said I minded it. I am simply inspired, that's all. Perhaps, you should come back sooner and we can try some of the positions referenced in it. In the meantime, habib, I can only pleasure myself with toys, although, they’re nothing in comparison to you. I’m addicted to you, the caress of your hands on my skin, how only you can make me shudder and cry out your name. You have me wrapped around your finger.
I crave you desperately, habib. There are so many words I could use to describe you with my extensive vocabulary, but the most fitting one would be blossoming. You’ve managed to sow all these emotions in me and now that they’re blooming, you’ll take responsibility right? I’ve always been logical but the degree of affection I feel for you is irregular, all-encompassing and ever-growing. Almost as if you’re twisting the very essence of my mind, rotting and changing me from the inside out. It matches in a way, spring being the season of rebirth.
This letter has gotten too long, I will end it off here habib. I trust you will stay safe and return in one piece unharmed. I await your reply.
May your days be peaceful,
- Alhaitham -”
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Setting his letter back in the package, you pick up the book he entrusted to you. Flipping through the pages, it’s littered with markings and annotations from the scribe, he even wrote some questions for you to ponder over. “What do you think about this point?” “Why would the author write this in?” But there are a few unrelated… unsettling annotations that you probably shouldn’t dwell on for too long such as, “Do you know just how much I miss you?” or “How were you able to corrupt my reason and rationality to this extent?” These annotations were left in here for a reason, Alhaitham is a smart man, a renowned member of the Haravatat. There’s a message behind his carefully selected words, waiting for you to unearth it before it festers and decays into something even worse.
Lastly, written neatly on the inside of the back cover, is a puzzling riddle, each word written in a different ancient script. After deciphering the question, an unpleasant awareness worms its way into your mind.
It reads, “Would you still extend your same kindness to me after realising what I would do for you?”
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Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡
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kiss-me-cill-me · 2 months
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i’m not sure if anon has already requested a character for that song but if ur up for it CAN WE HAVE THAT SONG WITH JONATHAN CRANE. also i just listened to that song for the first time in like 3 years and got major deja vu lmao 😭
also ps i love u and ur writing !!!
This is related to another ask from an anon, requesting a fic based off of Katy Perry's song, The One That Got Away. I am so sorry to both of you that it's taken me forever to write this, but thank you for your patience and support <3
Now We Pay The Price | Pt. 1
Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader
Word Count: 2.8k
Summary: Life hasn't turned out exactly the way you wanted it to. Isolated and distraught as you watch time slip by while you sit, trapped in Arkham, your only wish is to recapture the way that things used to be.
Warnings: Angst, whump, sexual themes but no explicit smut, mental health themes, obsession, unhealthy relationship dynamics, mention of needles, mention of sedatives, unrequited love, established past romantic relationship, ambiguity
A/N: I hardly ever write angst, so please be gentle with me lol. But with the song inspo, I couldn't help but go in that direction. Slightly nervous to post this, but also happy that I've branched out from my comfort zone a bit!
***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***
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Lying on your stomach, feet in the air, you stretched the thin cotton sheets with your hand. Just enough to give them the tension you needed to glide a ballpoint pen over the fabric, scratching over and over the same mark to make it appear complete. This was far from the perfect medium for doodling - but sheets were what you had, and so they were what you used.
Even the pen was contraband. You knew you weren’t supposed to have it. What anyone thought you’d do with it… honestly, you had no idea. As if you could use a pen for anything other than what you were wrapped up in doing now - carefully and determinedly drawing hearts.
You stopped to rest your head for a moment on the pitifully thin pillow. Across the room, blank white concrete stared back at you. Day in, day out. Endless. The same room with the same walls.
Picking up the pen again, you placed the tip right in between the lobes of one of the many hearts. Scratch, scratch, scratch. A messy, zig-zagging line bisected the doodle. 
Broken.
You sighed, and started to color a different heart, filling it with blue ink that didn’t seem very inclined to stick to the bed sheets. It was slow going. The deep azure tint reminded you of deoxygenated blood, like you would see in a textbook diagram. Once the heart was completely filled, you moved dutifully on to the next.
A rustling at your door made you jump. Quickly, you stuffed the pen under your pillow, and turned up the sheets to hide your drawings. It wouldn’t be very good for you if anybody saw them.
You sat up, arranging your rumpled jumpsuit as neatly as you could. Leather straps hung off the sides of your bed, and you spared them a glance, bristling at the memories of having them lashed over your body. 
The metal door slid open slowly, until you could finally see…
Him. Your heart skipped a beat and a half as he stepped stiffly into the room, pulling the door shut behind him. He didn’t make a show of locking it, but it was still all too hard to miss the way his hand stopped short at the keyhole, before slipping into his pocket.
“Jonathan. I’m so glad-”
“Don’t call me that,” he bristled. “In here, we don’t know each other. Please. You always forget that.”
“...Dr. Crane,” you corrected yourself. 
His tone was so bitter that you could feel it in the very back of your throat, trying to claw its way down to your heart. You swallowed, trying to bite back the taste.
“I’m sorry. I was just happy to see you.” You smiled, pushing through your discomfort, for his sake.
Crane was clearly agitated. He took a few steps into the room, before turning around and facing the door. For one brief moment, you couldn’t see his face, until finally he turned back. His eyes were ice as they stared down at you.
“Do you have any idea how difficult you’ve been making things for me?” he spat. 
The accusation hurt, of course. Though you knew very well what he meant. You had been acting out, more than usual, as of late. And although it wasn’t without a purpose, you could see that it was wearing him thin. But… how else were you supposed to see each other? 
Arkham Asylum wasn’t exactly known for its model patients. It took a lot to get Dr. Crane’s attention.
“If we spent more time together, I wouldn’t be so difficult,” you replied, trying to keep your tone even.
Crane pinched the bridge of his nose, in that way that you were well acquainted with. He’d always had that habit. Back when you’d first met, you had loved making him get frustrated - just enough for a laugh. Some things never changed.
“You’re really backing me into a corner,” Crane sighed. “And I really wish you wouldn’t.”
“Let’s talk,” you offered, patting the bed. “That’s what you’re here for, right?”
Crane, reluctantly, sat down. You could sense his exhaustion in the way that he almost collapsed onto the bed, hands gripping the edge for support. You inched a bit closer, enough so that your knees touched briefly. Crane pulled away.
You wanted to reach out; put a hand on his shoulder, just like you’d done so many times before. He used to like it when you touched him. Sometimes, you liked to think that yours was the only gentle embrace that he had ever known. Maybe it was silly, but the thought of it always made you feel better.
Now, Crane’s eyes held nothing but menace as he glared over at you, as if you were a stain on the bed sheets. You wondered, vaguely, what had happened to change things.
So much. So much that had led you to this place, where you could be so close to him and yet felt more separated than ever.
“I hate to say it, Doc, but I think I’m going crazy in here,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood.
He barely had a reaction; a deep sigh the only hint that he’d heard what you said at all.
“And why do you think that is?” he asked, finally. 
The psychiatrist in him always came through to shove even more distance between you. Like a shield, put up just when you’d started to press through the fog of tension that hung heavy in the room. You swallowed your frustration at being kept out, and tried to answer him honestly.
“Because I barely get to see you,” you replied.
That was the wrong answer, and Crane’s shoulders swung abruptly to face you. 
He was scary like this. Almost scary, anyway. If you didn’t know him better, the look in his eyes would have sent you cowering. 
But you did know him, so well, and you remembered with sudden clarity that he’d always been bothered by feeling inadequate. You felt awful; you hadn’t meant to imply that he wasn’t doing enough.
“I’m sorry,” you soothed, before he could say anything. “I know that you’re busy, but-”
“But you continue to make yourself into a problem,” he hissed. “You know the only reason you’re in here instead of rotting away over at Blackgate is because of me, right?”
You nodded, too shocked by embarrassment to speak.
“Then for my sake, why don’t you act like it?”
“I’m…” You paused for a moment, sharp tears welling up in your eyes. “I’m just… lost without you,” you whispered. “You know that. I always told you I would be.”
The first tear fell, and you tried to hide your face.
“Don’t cry,” Crane sighed.
You could hear the harsh tinge of annoyance in his voice, and wished that it was anything else. Even his pity would have been better than knowing that your feelings were now nothing but inconvenience. You choked on your own throat, trying to stifle a sob.
“Please don’t cry,” he mumbled, slightly softer this time.
But now that you’d started, you couldn’t make yourself stop. If anything, the tears were only coming faster, and you felt yourself start to shrink into your own chest. The little black pit that always seemed to sit there, now swiftly opening up to swallow you.
With a deep and lingering exhale, Crane pulled you close. Suddenly, you were back where you both had been, so many years ago: one person’s cheek pressed into the other’s shoulder. Tears soaking into fabric that seemed to be stained with sadness. You let out a half-laugh, half-sob, and nestled into the crook of his neck.
“Remember when I used to do this for you?”
Crane stiffened slightly beside you.
“Things have changed since then,” he muttered. 
Your memory suddenly flashed back to the first time he had used the words “dysfunctional attachment” to describe you. That had hurt worse than anything else. Even more than all of the other occasions to come, when you’d heard those same words and worse fall from his lips. They could never truly compare to that first time, when your whole world had come crashing abruptly to the ground.
His arm dropped away from you, but you kept your face pressed into his shoulder.
“Things haven’t really changed,” you said. “I still belong to you.”
“You don’t.”
Two words that stung worse than hundreds of needles. You tried to pretend that the wind hadn’t been knocked out of you, as you replied.
“I do. And I will. Always.”
You looked up at him with wet eyes, a trace of the old life that you’d shared together still evident deep within your pupils. Even if only the memories of it lived inside of you, they still lived. They were still something.
“You need to move on,” Crane said flatly. “I know it’s not easy in here, with me…” He sighed. “I did what I could to protect you, but maybe it would have been better if I had just stayed out of your case. Blackgate would have at least given you distance.”
“I don’t want distance,” you whispered. “I just want to be with you.”
“You can’t be.”
Always so stubborn.
“I could be, if you’d help me get out.”
Confusion flashed across Crane’s face, quickly replaced with raw terror. 
“Escape Arkham?” His eyebrows furrowed, nearly knitting together. “You can’t be serious. Do you even realize what-?”
“I know, I know,” you hummed. “But just think - we could run away together, just like we always talked about.”
“Stop.”
“Don’t you remember? We promised-”
“Things. Change.” Crane’s voice almost shook as it thundered.
You brought a hand up to his face, gently coaxing until he looked at you.
“But they don’t have to,” you breathed. 
Your eyes drifted down to your wrist, to the space just below your thumb, and over the little tattoo that was etched into your skin. A heart - just like the ones littering your blanket, hidden carefully from Crane’s view.
“Remember when you gave me this?” you asked, holding up the tattoo in front of him.
“No; I remember you doing that to yourself.”
“At first, sure,” you chuckled. “But then, you helped me to finish it, ‘cause-”
“Because I didn’t want you to hurt yourself,” Crane muttered. “Just like you always seem to. Even now.”
You ignored his remark as your hands drifted down to collect one of his pale wrists, then lifted up to your face. The sleeve of his suit jacket slipped back, revealing the spot where once, long ago, you had given him the same mark. Just with a felt-tip pen; he would have never allowed you, even back then, to deface his own body in the same way you had yours. 
At the time, the impermanence of it hadn’t seemed to matter. You’d been too distracted; elated by the way that his and your matching blossoms of ink had pressed up against each other as you’d held hands. 
Now, you pressed a kiss to the blank space.
“Us against the world, Jonathan. Remember?”
Suddenly, his fingers pressed into your face, digging into the sides of your chin as he forced you back into focus.
“Don’t call me that,” he warned, once again. “How many times do I have to tell you? That life doesn’t exist in here.”
Your hands still dangled from his wrist as he continued to crush your jaw, not letting you look away. But this was the one part of him that you didn’t want to face. The part that didn’t need you anymore.
“Jonathan. You know the reason I’m in here, don’t you?”
“Are you asking if I know about your case? All of the crimes you committed?” he huffed. “Because yes - I was very involved in the trial, and it was nearly impossible to keep everyone else in the dark about…”
Us was the word that he couldn’t bring himself to say.
“That’s not what I mean,” you said. “I mean, do you know why I did those things?”
“Stop - please don’t tell me this again.”
“I did them for you,” you cried, your emotions getting the better of you again. “I do everything for you. So don’t you dare pretend you don’t need me, when really the only fucking reason you’re not stuck in here with me is because I always-”
“Stop.”
Crane’s hands tore away to grab you by the shoulders, wrenching you back to reality. Somehow he always managed to do that. To pull you straight out of the riptide, just as it was about to sweep you away.
“I never asked you to do what you did,” he hissed, articulating each word between clenched teeth.
“But I did it anyway,” you spat. “Because you always get into trouble. Because I told you I’d be there for you, no matter what. And because I always keep promises.”
“I don’t need you to anymore.” Crane’s hands squeezed you uncomfortably. “I don’t - I didn’t need you to ruin your life for me.”
“My life isn’t ruined if it’s for you.”
“Jesus Christ…”
Crane’s hand came up to rake through his hair, but before he could pull away fully, you caught him. Fingers clenched tight to the front of his suit, you pulled back and forced him to fall with you. Your back hit the bed, and Crane scrambled to catch himself before his full weight could slam into you. His body perched just above yours, caging you in his arms.
“This. You must remember this.” 
Your words were a whisper, barely loud enough to pass from your lips to his ear, despite how close he was. Your legs frantically came up to tug at his waist, trying to force him closer.
“This was the only time I felt alive,” you continued. “When we were like this. You remember.”
How could he not? You could still live in that moment, if you tried hard enough. As if it had been only yesterday. Both of you nervous and fumbling, nearly falling off of the bed as he hovered over you and you clung to him. 
The way that your bodies had melted together, almost desperately, in a way that had made you feel certain that neither one of you would let go. Letting go then had meant something worse than death; it meant a life that dragged on without you and him together. 
The stale echoes of passion still rang in your ears as you looked up, silently begging for him to rekindle the spark that had been there.
Crane’s expression was all but impossible to read. His face half-hidden beneath bangs that fell into his eyes. The two-second pause was like a lifetime as you awaited his answer.
“Of course I remember.”
Your heart soared, flying recklessly up.
“But that doesn’t mean it’s the same now.”
Broken. Smashed hard against the cold floor of your cell.
“I don’t believe that,” you breathed. “I can’t. I-”
“You need to,” he interrupted. “Because it’s the truth.”
You stayed stock still on the mattress as Crane briskly pushed himself up, disentangling himself from your limbs. He exhaled as he tugged at his jacket, trying to make himself presentable. 
You weren’t sure how he could find the nerve, after ripping your whole world apart.
“I’m upping the dose on your sedatives,” he informed you, still not meeting your gaze. “But I would prefer if you could find it within yourself to behave so that I don’t have to. I don’t like to do this, but-”
“Appearances…” Your voice drifted through the room. “Have to be kept up.”
He had told you as much, probably dozens of times. Just like he’d told you the old life between you no longer mattered, or even existed. If it ever had.
“I’m glad you understand,” he said shortly. 
His back was already turned, but you looked up to watch him drift out of the room, quickly pocketing the keys on his way out. 
Your head fell back, hard, but the sensation did nothing to ground you. You felt all too lost and adrift; trapped in a situation you had created. This wasn’t how things were supposed to end up.
Your hand drifted silently under the pillow, and wrapped around the barrel of the pen that was still hidden there. 
Suddenly, grotesque understanding of all the reasons why no one would want you to have such a thing flooded into your consciousness. The possibilities were many and bleak, but they all led back to the same conclusion. It was just like you had told Crane earlier.
If your life together didn’t exist in this place, then the only solution was to leave. 
You smiled. With resolve swirling dangerously inside your veins, you vowed to make sure that nothing like this ever happened again. You were going to be together, no matter what. 
There would be no getting away.
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This fic now has a Part 2! Read it HERE
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maximwtf · 3 months
Text
“If you wish so.”
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Kamisato Ayato x Reader
Words: 3340
Google docs pages: 7,5
Warnings: Songfic, but I suppose it makes sense even without the lyrics :”D, established relationship, arranged marriage, overworking, angst/comfort
Opening: After marrying the man you’d grown up alongside, you notice how busy his and your life had gotten. You notice how you would be lucky to even see him during the day, and from there your mind spirals to ponder if there is any fixing the marriage anymore. So one night as he comes back to you, you bring the topic up. 
AN// Reader can be any gender! Is it my golden birthday? Yes. Am I still writing fanfiction? Perhaps. The song used here -> Song
“If you wish so.”
You were no stranger to Kamisato Ayato, having known him since you were a child. You grew up together, mostly because your parents were close and had a lot of work they did together. This allowed you to not only get to know him, but train to fight with him. He was always a pleasant opponent, since he knew when to stop and when to be serious. He had respect for his opponents, and clearly had been taught the same way you had. So getting along with him had never been a problem. 
You wish you could have said it had come as a surprise when your time to marry had come around, and the person chosen for you had been Ayato. But you had your premonition that it would have been him. Only, you had never in your adult life discussed something like this with him. The topic of relationships had never come up in the whole time you’d known him. But you had no fear of bringing the topic up, knowing of the polite young adult he’d grown up to be. And you’d been correct. Neither of you were sure if it was going to work out, but understood the weight a relationship such as this would have and together agreed that you’d try to make it work. 
And it had. Later on, you found that you truly fancied him. Maybe you would have figured it out later in life anyway, but the marriage had just sped up the process due to you having to spend more time around him. And you told him this, immediately being assured that he had started to wonder if he was feeling the same way. The realisation had made everything so much easier for the both of you. And not only that, but the public appearances you sometimes made showed the people that you were truly going to stick together. You felt at ease with him. 
But when his parents passed away and the weight of the clan's affairs fell upon him, he’d been drowned in work. You had tried your best to comfort him, to tell him that he was doing a good job. But he had never seemed to truly doubt himself, taking upon loads of work while keeping his sister away from the heavy burdens of the clan. As much help as Thoma was, you still worried for the man. 
But at the end of the day, you found yourself in the same position as him. You were also expected to take on the clan’s affairs, making you separate from Ayato. And from time to time enough that sometimes you didn’t remember when you’d seen him last. And it took a toll on you as well at some point. Why couldn’t things slow down as they’d been when you both had been just a little younger?
“If you wish so, you shall never be restless again. “
So one day you thought to confront him about it. To tell him that he had too much work to do, and that he should ask help with it from time to time. Or even share some of it with you, if that could be of any help. But the conversation had gone almost as you’d expected. 
You’d barely been able to catch him, even for just the moment you needed in order to talk with him. But the moment he saw you, he’d paused. And if you didn’t know any better, you would have missed the pleased look that flashed onto his face the moment he saw you. Appearing for only a short amount of time, yet you knew him well enough to know he was glad to see you.
“Was there anything in particular you wanted to discuss, dear?” Ayato asked, form seemingly now more at ease than before. Something about that easing your mind as well. Not that you’d been worried to bring up anything with him. You trusted the man. “Being at the head of the commission comes at a cost. But don’t you think there is a little too much to do?” You started, not having thought out a speech or even properly how to word your thoughts. A shiver accompanied by panic flashed through your body, quickly adding something to the previous statement. “Of course, I’m confident of your abilities for the position-”, but of course the stuttering and slight worry only amused Ayato, bringing an expression on his face to show that. Though, after that he replied in a more serious tone, knowing as much as you’d stuttered that you’d been serious about this. “Is your work weighing on you? If that is the case, I can assure you something can be done about it. And will, swiftly.” He then said. His voice convincing, not making you doubt for a second that he wouldn’t waste time to take work off your shoulders. He was very comprehensive with decisions such as this. Having dealt with cases like this before, he knew quick fixes for it. But he had gotten it wrong, totally. 
It wasn’t yourself who you were worried about, but him and his well being if he continued to work like he did now for as long as his body allowed him to. Something about a future like that scared you, made you wonder how far was a future like that? A future where he’d work to provide for this family until he couldn’t anymore?
“If you wish so, everything mine shall be yours too. “
You put your hands up, shaking them gently in front of you as a sign that what he thought hadn’t been what you’d meant. “That is not what I meant, dear. And even more so, I do believe you have a heavier workload than I do as things are.” You placed your hand at the back of your neck for comfort, looking at the floor as you thought of a way to make him understand. You could feel his eyes on you, patiently waiting for you to come around. As your eyes travelled back to him, a hint of confusion had laid itself in his eyes. “I wished for us to share the work more evenly. For me to take some of yours.” You finally added, voice a little more quiet than before. Ayato had taken a breath after your statement, mind racing for a moment as he tried to figure out why you weren’t pleased with the way things had been laid out previously? 
He had intentionally made sure to ease your workload and give it to himself. To make sure the affairs of the clan he was meant to take care of wouldn’t weigh on you too much. To keep your mind off of the dirtiest businesses the clan came across from time to time. How long had you been displeased? It confused him further, but none of it did he let show on the outside. A deeply rooted habit. 
“I couldn’t possibly allow you to do that for me.” He started, tilting his head ever so slightly. His voice still held the same calmness as before, as it usually did. “I hope you understand. There is no one else I should worry with the tasks meant for myself.” And he was right. 
The work the commissioner did was not something anyone from the staff could do, nor were they allowed to do it. But that’s exactly why you’d offered to help him, to take some of the workload, knowing he allowed you to see the things he saw. And maybe he saw it as trouble enough that you knew of such things. That he thought he was troubling you even by allowing himself to talk to you about them. But you wanted to help. 
“If you wish so, I’ll take your religion. “
But you had to show him that it wasn’t only the workload that was given unevenly that worried you. It wasn’t fairness that you sought after. You worried for his health and future, and most of all missed him. Missed talking to him like you were talking now. Only, about more pleasant topics. 
You might have intertwined the clans for political reasons, but you did care about him as a friend and as a lover. You would have felt bad later on if you never told him, or if you backed down now and didn’t try your best to convince him. 
“But you are worrying me as it is. Worrying me with the workload you have and the stress it puts you under.” You sighed, shaking your head slightly before continuing the rant. “You work so late, I often fear you don’t sleep enough. Worry, because at times I don’t see you in the morning. Nor do I see you at night.” The last words were spoken more silently, having a hard time admitting that you missed him. That being one of the main reasons why you’d even dared to talk to him about this. 
Ayato’s gaze had softened, a type of realisation hitting him as he keenly listened to you speak your mind. “I long to be with you again, is what I’m saying. I pine to talk to you before falling asleep and-” You stopped yourself there, afraid someone might hear you if you rambled on. Knowing that you shouldn’t discuss private matters out in the open like this. But also because you couldn’t emotionally bear to talk about such deep feelings all of a sudden. And by the looks of it, Ayato had understood the point. 
He now understood where the speech was coming from, why you wanted to ease his workload so desperately. And he would have been lying if he said he hadn’t once thought of wanting to go back to how things were. When there hadn’t been as much to do. But the thought made him feel like he was being pulled in two directions at once. 
But he knew he couldn’t fully promise you anything as things were now. All he could do was give you some kind of reassurance. Maybe that would help, even if it pained him to deal with this in such a way. “I may have a few tricks up my sleeve. I’ve made note of it now and…I’ll see what I can do.” He said confidently, but you couldn’t tell if it was a facade this time. He was far too skilled with covering his actual intentions with the way he spoke. Though, the hand he’d placed on your waist before placing an affectionate kiss on your upper cheek gave you some hope. Perhaps false hope, but you wanted to believe it was real. 
And with that he'd gotten back on track with what he’d been doing previously. 
“If you wish so, even your lies shall be the truth to me. “
But as you’d expected, the hope had been false. As days passed on, you could tell he was still busy as ever and having if not more work to do. But you didn’t complain to him about it. Didn’t whine or get clingy as you had felt after the previous conversation. It had taken some time to shake off the feeling of that after. 
But this morning, he’d woken up around the time you had. Giving you time to have breakfast with him, which felt like a blessing directly from Celestia. And not only that, but Ayato had managed to surprise you with what he’d had on his mind for a short while now. “I was planning on quitting work slightly earlier tonight. How about we go for a stroll after, what do you say?” He said calmly while enjoying his food. But even the divine smell of the well prepared food couldn’t distract you from the shock this plan had given you. Thrilled, but not allowing it to show you formed a somewhat comprehensible reply. “That would be much appreciated, dear.” You said politely, swiftly starting to eat as to appear too busy to add anything else to that. 
You didn’t see if Ayato had seen the excitement in your eyes, but if you knew him at all you would have guessed that he had. He wasn't one to miss on even the slightest expressions, having become quite awfully skilled at reading people in the past few years. But a part of you wished he’d seen the excitement. Seen it so you could hide the internal fear that this was another lie. No, you didn’t want to call them lies, knowing he was truly trying his best to make this work after the initial conversation. 
But something in your gut told you to be wary of such promises. There was no knowing if something urgent would come up today and ruin the plan. And it would hurt more the more excited you were. 
“If you wish so, I’ll move to Andorra, so maybe I’ll see you again. “
And so you waited patiently. Did your daily work with care and finished just early enough to prepare yourself slightly for when he returned as well. You hadn’t even worried when he’d taken a little longer than expected, knowing he had more to do than you. He would come eventually. 
But as you’d feared, he never came. As the last rays of the sun finally disappeared, you gave up the last bits of hope that he was even going to be back before supper. Something must have come up, knowing you hadn’t seen Thoma much either. But that didn’t change the fact that waiting for someone who wasn’t going to come to you hurt. 
Of course you had expected something like this, but a part of you still hoped something could be done about this situation. But then again, the work the two of you did was important and mostly private. So you couldn’t ask for someone to help you sort this out. It was up to your attempts and you weren’t sure how far Ayato was willing to stretch, if at all. But you did want to see him more. To spend time with him. 
There was a sense of comfort when the two of you could only be, take off the facade for a moment and just talk. But that had been in the past for a while now. And of course you couldn’t speak for him, but you felt the need to talk like that again. To share your thoughts with him. You’d do anything to get to do that again. 
“Without you I’m drowning within restless nights, and without you..you see. “
After waiting for him for long enough, you decided it was best to give up. He’d come back around the same time he usually did, and maybe you’d have time to talk to him tomorrow about this. So you headed to bed. 
But the sleep that usually came to you easily was so hard to reach tonight. Your mind spiralled, upset and even a little angry that things weren’t working the way you wished. Usually the voice of reason sorted out your thoughts, but that comforting voice was gone. Far too tired to try thinking logically, your mind kept feeding your feelings and keeping you awake. Even when you felt worn out, you couldn’t find it in you to let your mind rest and fall asleep. 
With no sense of time, you didn’t know how much time had passed. But the sound footsteps approaching the bed caught your attention. Your breathing stilled, ears keen on the soft sounds. He had always been so careful not to wake you up when he knew he was coming back so late. 
The mattress on his side moved as he sat down, a low sight leaving the man. You contemplated not turning around, pretending as if you’d fallen asleep already. But still in your feels you decided best to face him, turning around on the bed. The room was quite dark at this hour, but you could tell he was surprised to see you awake. 
“How come are you still up, dear?” Came to his mind first, the concerned question slipping out almost automatically. You wanted to tell him the reason, but at that moment the reasoning started sounding more and more risible. Instead, you lifted yourself to a sitting position, keeping the covers over your shoulders to maintain the comforting warmth they were radiating. 
But something about your mannerism seemed to have been enough to let him catch up on what was going on. “Ah, I see”, his voice lowered but there was no anger in it. He’d sounded more upset than anything. And you could tell that even in your tired state of mind. “Dear, I apologise. You have my word, not a moment went by when I didn’t regret coming back earlier.” He continued speaking. But this time you knew his words weren’t lies or false hope on his part as well. He was being honest, clear regret in the way he spoke to you. 
You didn’t know what to tell him. His words brought some peace of mind, but they couldn’t change the fact that you missed him. Missed talking to him just as you were talking right now. Raw. But the more time you spent without replying, the more intense his weighing gaze on you felt. 
But there was nothing to be said. You’d tried everything that had come to mind. But maybe this was the last option you had left, as pathetic as it was. “I miss you”, you whined out as the lump in your throat felt harder to swallow down. Ayato’s brows furrowed. 
“Without you, I’m halfway to Hell. “
His hand placed itself carefully to your arm, bringing you both closer to one another. His movements, as careful as they were, weren’t unsure. But he was treating the situation as gently as he could. 
Not that he hadn’t taken you seriously the previous time you’d clearly tried to work around stating the topic like this. He’d tried taking your thoughts into account, but he hadn’t yet found anything that would work. And the thought of that ached at the back of his mind constantly. But the way you’d stayed up until now and tried reaching out once more shone new light at how much he needed to fix something. 
His free hand placed itself at the nape of your neck, moving gently up to your jawline. You leaned into the touch, chewing on your inner lip as you waited for him to say something. “And that feeling is warranted. And believe me when I say, mutual.” He said, gaze soft but firmly on you. “Then come back to me.” You sniffed, looking down for a moment as you quickly wiped your eyes. His hand was fast to tilt your head back up, but only as a mere suggestion to which you responded by obeying. “I will”, the man’s softened voice replied. “For far too long to my comfort I’ve ignored the duty of utmost importance to me. And that is family matters, and it includes you.” He said, surprising even himself of the way he’d held himself together. 
The way he spoke assured you, even if only a little. A wry smile made its way to your face, the tears previously threatening to well up had disappeared. “Thank you.” Was all you could think of, overwhelmed and tired. And you assumed he could tell both of those things by the way he replied. “I’ll discuss this with Thoma and you tomorrow morning.” He said, pressing a light kiss to the top of your head. “But before that, I think sleep is in order?” And he was right, of course. “For you too”, you reminded him as you knew in the past he had a tendency to stay up even if you’d fallen asleep. But to that comment he replied with a delighted, yet exhausted sounding chuckle. “Hehe, of course.” He nodded, giving you a proper kiss before lying down. And even if this was nothing new, falling asleep cuddled up to him felt refreshing. Knowing that you’d seen him before falling asleep, and you would see him again in the morning. 
AN// Heehee, an angst with comfort at the end for my birthday. How fitting, aye? This was also a little testrun for Ayato, see how he feels to write for. So hopefully he’s not too ooc !
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katherines-imagines · 7 months
Text
Still Into You
pairings: hazel callahan x reader
warnings: obliviousness, literally so oblivious that its frustrating, bad writing
key: *** - time skip, faux - fake
summary: The Fight Club has been trying to get Hazel and Y/N forever, so when Y/N has a concert with her band, the Fight Club tries to bring the two together..
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For as long as the fight club could remember, Hazel and Y/N had been hopelessly in love with each other, but the two were clearly, completely oblivious. Really, it stressed everyone out. No matter what they tried, the two idiots could not get together. They had tried everything. They planted fake love letters, they set up real love letters, they arranged blind dates with each other, they even tried locking them in a room (subtly of course), but nothing seemed to work.
“Nothing is working,” PJ complained to the group. They were having a secret meeting without Hazel and Y/N. “This has gone on for far too long,” PJ said, the group nodding in agreement. “I mean, at least Y/N tries. Hazel’s the problem.”
“No, remember when Hazel got Y/N coffee,” Brittany pointed out.
“She got all of us coffee.”
“Oh,” Brittany said dejectedly.
“Yeah, she was only going to get it for Y/N, but she chickened out last minute,” Josie recalled. The group collectively face palmed. “Ok guys, we have to come up with something.” As the group sat in silence trying to come up with a new plan, a loud gasp came from Stella-Rebecca.
“Oh my gosh I totally forgot, Y/N has a band concert and she invited all of us!” The girls started chattering excited as Stella-Rebecca started passing out the tickets before Annie clapped her hands.
“That’s it,” she exclaimed. The group turned to her in confusion. “This is how we get them together! We get Y/N to sing a song to confess her feelings, and we help Hazel know that she’s singing it for her. It’s perfect!” Unconsciously, the group mentally simultaneously agreed that Annie was the smartest of the group.
“Great idea,” Isabel gushed. “So how are we gonna do this?” The girls huddled around Annie, ready to here the game plan.
“Ok, so here’s what we’re gonna do..”
***
“Hey are you good over there,” the lead singer asked. Y/N nodded, nervously tapping her guitar. The fight club had told her to sing a love song, and look directly at Hazel to confess. In all honesty, Y/N would do anything just for Hazel to finally realize her feelings. This was the last resort, so she would give it her all.
“Ready guys? We’re on in five,” the drummer notified the group. Nodding, they got in position. Taking a deep breath, Y/N reassured herself that she could do it.
While Y/N was getting ready, the fight club found their seats, putting Hazel directly where Y/N would be able to view her easily and vice versa.
“So Hazel, you ready to see your girlfriend,” Sylvie teased. Blushing, Hazel shook her head in denial.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” Hazel said with a faux scowl. I wish, Hazel thought to herself.
“With how she talks about you, I’m honestly surprised,” Annie enticed. Annie was sure that if Hazel had puppy ears, they would be perked right now. Hook, line, and sinker.
“How does she talk about me,” Hazel asked curiously, trying to play it off smoothly. The group subtly gave each other knowing glances before Annie answered the oblivious girl.
“She always says, ‘Hazel’s so pretty’, ‘Hazel’s so organized’, ‘she’s so cool when she fights’. Seems like she really likes you.” Blushing, Hazel looked off into the distance. Maybe Y/N did like her as more than a friend? No, of course not, she think’s of Hazel as ‘just a friend’. a/n: fucking adrien agreste vibes
“I think Y/N told me that she would be singing the last song specifically for you, Hazel,” Isabel said slyly. Head snapping towards Isabel, she bombarded the poor girl with questions.
“Really? For me? You’re not joking?” Isabel blinked before answering.
“Yes, yes, and no,” Isabel smiled. A huge smile settled on Hazel’s face before the light’s dimmed. The group focused their attention to the stage, where their friend stood on stage. As the audience applauded loudly at the band’s entrance, Hazel clapped the loudest.
The band made their way through the songs, until finally they were at the last one.
“Before we finish up with our last song,” Y/N said with a bright smile. “I wanna dedicate this last one to someone I’ve been trying to tell them, but they’re just a little bit oblivious.” With a nervous smile, Y/N stared directly at Hazel, and motioned for the band to start. The main singer took a step back for Y/N to sing. They started playing and Hazel could recognize the song, ‘Still Into You’, by Paramore. Oh my god, Hazel thought. This was their song. The song playing when they met. The song playing when both girls fell for each other. Theirs. As Y/N sang, her gaze never left Hazel’s.
“Even after all this time,” Y/N sang, looking at Hazel. “I’m into you. Baby, not a day goes by, that I’m not into you!” As they finished the song, a huge applause came out, Hazel’s mouth dropped. ‘I love you Haze’, Y/N mouthed. Hazel could feel her heart beating hard in her chest and she finally mouthed the words back.
‘I love you too’.
A/N: @deadgirlwalkingtaylorsversion wrote a post asking about the reader confessing unconsciously during a concert, but I tried putting my own little twist to it (hope that’s ok). I’m taking requests if y’all have any! Hope you all liked it!
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florenceafternoon · 5 months
Text
━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━
This post is just some of my current favourites because I don’t think I have the energy to make a master list right now. Personally, I like to read aus so if you're looking for canon stuff this isn't the post for you.
For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries on ao3.
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in pursuit of the study of magic by @thequibblah
An immortal magician au or, "we had a really bad breakup three hundred years ago, but neither of us realised the other is immortal until we met today"
I recommend you listen to About You while reading this
Growing (in love) by casablancas21 (on ao3)
Uni au where "James Potter has a lot going on for him. His uni years have been the best he's ever had and his friendliness, popularity and charm go a long way to place him as the go-to bloke if one's looking for a good time. Nevertheless, his final year of school finds him struggling to keep up with the social energy that once enthralled him. He's having a hard time figuring out how to set his own boundaries and what to do about his future. He's also having a really hard time figuring out Lily Evans."
I must admit that Lily's comebacks are so good I've used some during class debates in sociology this year. Truly, the dialogue and dynamics between characters in this fic are so good. Pretty sure this is the one with the kebab
Golden Waltz by evanspotter (on ao3)
Lily Evans wants to be the best ice dancer in the world, which means she needs to find a dance partner ASAP. After two failed partnerships, her coach gives her one last option: James Potter.
This fic is the reason I neglected revising for midterms. It also caused me to go into a deep dive into watching tapes of Olympic ice dance programs specifically Virtue and Moir.
on the way home by keep_driving (on ao3)
Lily was living abroad and pinning from afar. After an abundance of "phone calls, mixtapes, and long waits," Lily is finally coming home. I believe this fic is inspired by the song You Are In Love.
When I say jily is friends first, and lovers second this is what I mean
Dancing With Our Hands Tied by @athenasparrow
But despite his best efforts, he couldn’t take his eyes off her figure as she moved effortlessly in rhythm with whatever song she had playing. He learned she was wearing more than a t-shirt when she slid across the kitchen on her socks, throwing her head back to sing words James wished he could hear.
OR: In a world where social distancing reigns supreme, two strangers find themselves confined to their apartments with love only a window away.
The way I binged this fic at school between classes. love love love
The Season by @missgryffin
This is a regency (Brighton) au where "James Potter, Duke of Peverell, has returned to London just in time for the season, where Miss Lily Evans is about to make her debut. Only, he’s not looking for a wife, and she’s not particularly interested in a husband."
I love the dialogue between Lily & James as well as Sirius & Lily's relationship (for those who know Brigerton, it reminds me of Ben and El's relationship).
A Misstep Of Fate by hogwartslivy (on ao3)
A muggle historical au where "he waited for her on the edge of ballrooms and in the shadows of parties. He waited to dance with her, to spin her in his arms, to be the one she laughed and smiled with. He thought he was doing the right thing, allowing time to pass them until they were ready, so he had waited. But it seems, he made a misstep. He's waited too long now she's slipping through his fingers."
My boy is stupid and in love but it's okay because she is too. Their idiots, but they’re my idiots
Let Me Love You by @thejilyship
A Princess Diaries au in which "with only a month until she's set to take the throne of Gryffindor, Lily is informed that she'll have to get married or choose to give up her throne. She never thought she'd have to even entertain the idea of an arranged marriage. Enter, James Potter."
chaos ensues and Emma deserves long service leave (the place would fall apart)
foreigner's god by clarewithnoi (on ao3)
answer to a Tumblr prompt: "we were lovers in a past life" but the current incarnations are enemies-to-lovers, and they don't remember anything from their past selves.
The back and forth between them is so good. low-key I teared up a bit but it has a HEA
An October of Unconventional Courtships by @ghostofbambifanfiction
Two phones. Thirty-one days. Eighteen tuxedos. A Jilytober texting fic.
A classic that everyone should read
Shelf Awareness also by @/ghostofbambifanfiction
Modern bookstore au where "It's too far out of her way and she's wasting so much money, but Lily can't help but return to the bookstore every weekend, where her passion for good literature has, perhaps, been unexpectedly reignited by the messy-haired, pun-making, rather handsome bloke who works there."
One of the first ever jily fics that I read and I fell in love with their dynamic straight away
Careless Texter also by @/ghostofbambifanfiction
Answer to the prompt, “I left my phone number on the bathroom stall wall and you text me about your day and your frustrations for a month & it’s really nice and cute but I still don’t know who you are,” with some twists and differences.
Trackside by @hogwartslivy
James Potter is Formula One’s most impressive young talent, making up one half of the championship winning team at Gryffindor Racing. He’s got a reputation for playing dirty on, and seemingly off, the track but when an article quoting a particularly vulgar comment made by him at last years final Grand Prix is released, it seems he may have pushed it too far. Potter faces two options; fix his public image or give up his seat.
When my two obsessions meet
it's (always) you by @kay-elle-cee
A multiverse of 31 meet-cutes for Jilytober 2023.
Honorable mentions to chapter 3 for high!Lily and chapter 7 for fulling my love for jily regency aus
Key Limes by cgner (on ao3)
Fame au "in which Academy Award winner Lily Evans discovers the periphery of internet fandom and the mysteries of Prince James’s gold star system."
Because James is actually just a giant build a bear and lily is an icon as always.
See You At the Next Stop by kayrma (on ao3)
Lily Evans meets a posh-looking bloke with messy hair on the way back to London, and for once in her life she actually enjoys a train ride. Maybe having a spontaneous seat partner isn't that bad after all.
Shoutout to the notes on this fic because whoever wrote it is a mood
Nom De Plume by @annabtg
James Potter, renowned potioneer, has a secret side career as an erotica writer under the pen name of Scarlett Goldwing. When his latest book starts to take off, and Scarlett is asked to promote it at a public event, he has no other option but to recruit his colleague Lily Evans to pretend to be Scarlett. The only problem is, Lily Evans hates his guts… or does she?
(Rated E for later chapters)
Like did you read that summery because personally I was waiting for the author to complete the story so I could binge it
victorem (requires an ao3 account ) by gryffindormischief (on ao3)
(Olympic) Ice dancing au. "When God closes a door, sometimes you have to jump out a window."
Lily and James (and Sirius) aka the dynamic duo
Phone Service by @confuded-gryffindor
Moddern muggel au "in which James and Lily meet twice, both through their phones."
some with arrows, some with traps by @isahorcrux
Fame au. "Then: James Potter was a beloved child star and the lead of a popular YA franchise. Lily Evans was just getting her big break as his romantic lead in the third installment. While their chemistry got rave reviews, if the rumors are to be believed the two actors can barely stand to be in the same room together.
Now: Lily’s paid her dues and ten years later she’s the most in-demand actress in Hollywood. And James...after back-to-back flops at the box office, he’s just looking for a break and a chance to prove he is the amazing actor everyone thought he was going to be."
Much Ado About Nothing, but make it Jily
The group chat is the level of chaos me and my friends extrude every free line we spend together
Charred Pineaple Margarita's and a Bagel by @chiechie97
The guy at the coffee shop was hot. Hot and he knew her order. But that didn’t mean ANYTHING. Especially when he seemed to know everyone’s order. And besides, Lily is far too busy to be thinking about the hot guy that always has her breakfast waiting for her. Right?
Lily and Remus are me
and i know you too well to say you're perfect by @ofmermaidsandmarauders
“Yeah, you were a pretty big moron.” “Hey, I said idiot!”
Lily's not really sure when James Potter, soccer extraordinaire, took over her life with Harry.
What the summery said
The next few fics are all by @wearingaberetinparis or ritaskeetered (on ao3) who is the reason I joined the jily fandom. Single handedly enabled my obsession and I've never been more thankfull.
The Very Regency (Un)Ladylike Guide To Fortune-Hunting
Regency au. "Without thinking highly either of men or matrimony, marriage had always been her object; it was the only honourable provision for well-educated young women of small fortune, and however uncertain of giving happiness, must be their pleasantest preservative from want." (Jane Austen)
Lily Evans finds herself wanting, or: so her sister seems to believe. While out on the hunt for a fortune - again: that would be Mrs Dursley mostly - the affection of a number of suitors is most welcome. Especially when a young Viscount's heart is set aflame.
Screaming, crying, punch me in the face (Lily's version)
Jump (For My Love)
Royalty au "When you are the Prince of England, the last thing one might expect is to be jumped from behind by the most beautiful woman one has ever seen, who - in turn - seems to have no clue at all and mistakes one for someone else. Surely, Prince James has the right to be disproportionately upset about this. The question is; does he need to?"
Baby, It's Cold Outside
Olympic au. James, being half Greek, had always dreamed of one day going to the Olympics. Now, at his second Winter Olympics – having won a surprising bronze medal at his first one – James has been dubbed Team GB’s hero before the games have even started.
Lily, being the daughter of a waste collector, had always dreamed of one day making her parents proud by exceeding their expectations. Now, she finds herself on a plane to China together with her boss, Minerva McGonagall, and a crowd of winter athletes representing Team GB at the Winter Olympics of 2022.
The paths of James Potter – overenthusiastic snowboarding hero – and Lily Evans – passionate overachiever – cross at the 2022 Winter Olympics when James Potter is asked to be Team GB’s flagbearer at the Opening Ceremony (and quite a few times after that as well).
The repetition of "James, being half Greek..." worked so well for the flow. I don't know how to describe it
A Game Of Thrones
Modern royalty au. Lily Evans had never imagined she would meet Prince James, but when she does at St Andrews' annual Christmas Pub Crawl, her whole world is turned upside down. For who thought that a girl like her - with a sister that reads "Hello" magazine like it's the Bible - would end up with a prince like him?
Euphemia Potter you will always be famous
flowers
A musician au that hilights sexisim in the music industry. "Singer-songwriter Lily Evans has played gig after gig, has been the opening act to many a headliner, but her big break seems a million miles away. When one night – after playing in her friend Marlene McKinnon’s bar – she receives messily scrawled lyrics on a napkin by a certain Monty Python, her life and career are turned upside down, leading her all the way to the Grammy's."
Lily my love, you deserve everything you've worked for
If You Knew Who Was Talking
hopelessly_devoted and genuinely-conflicted form each other’s support system online, cheering one another on as they battle their way through an unrequited (and most definitely unwanted) crush on the person their parents are trying to set them up with.
In the real world, James Potter and Lily Evans find themselves hopelessly devoted and genuinely conflicted when battling their persistent infatuation with the last person they would have ever liked to fall for, stubbornly fighting their family’s and friends’ convictions that they were born to be together.
If only they knew who was talking.
FOOLS the both of them.
glitter in the sky, i’m spinning out waiting for ya
For her thirtieth birthday, Marlene McKinnon and Mary McDonald gift Lily Evans the thrill of a lifetime: a tandem skydive. What no one expected? For Lily to end up in the hospital as a result with her ankle covered in soul marks.
everybody is a sexy baby, and i'm a monster on a hill
Ficwriter au. "James Potter and Lily Evans are fandom famous. Both are prolific and popular writers within the Marauders fandom, but they have completely ignored the other's existence for two years after a Tumblr misunderstanding. Now, they are paired up for the Valentine's Marauders Challenge and - forced to interact - they find out that they may be more compatible than they ever could have imagined."
Is this not the dream?
fastening myself to you with a stitch
Fame au. "Anyone who has never heard the names Lily Evans and James Potter before must be a boomer. The two actors have dominated the box office with their films in the past nine years, more often than not starring opposite one another. Whether tasked to portray mutual pining, passionate hatred or fiery love, Potter and Evans make the screen positively buzz with the taste of opportunity."
it's all happening without me
Normal People (Sally Roony) au. "At school, James and Lily pretend not to know each other. James is wealthy, popular and the star of his school’s football team, while Lily wears second-hand school uniforms, is the school pariah and resented for her smarts. At James’ house, however – meeting there due to Lily’s mother’s housekeeping job – they form an intense connection they desperately try to conceal to the outside world.
A year later, James and Lily both attend Hogwarts University where James has found his feet and made friends he had longed for his entire life, while Lily remains uncertain and haunted by her problematic past.
Throughout their years at university, James and Lily circle each other, trying to resist the magnetic pull between them, whilst coming to the realisation that the both of them may be more religious than they ever thought they were."
Mother knows best. Mary, never question your writing skills because this fic proved that you are a phenomenal writer. The emotions you evoked coverered the entire range of human emotions
It's Coming Down, It's Coming Down Series -
Weird, But Fuckin' Beautiful
When Lily Evans is invited to spend Christmas with the Potters, she finds that she can simply not refuse. It’s an offer she cannot resist for several reasons, the most important one being that she would much rather spend the holidays with Fleamont and Euphemia than she would with Vernon and Petunia.
So what if she had conveniently forgotten (or has she?) about the fact that the Potters have a son - a Formula 1 driver at that - who she can’t seem to get off her mind? (Mightily annoying that, seeing as he has made clear exactly how he feels about her and it’s not exactly giving her any hope.) It’s not as if she can’t control herself.
Or so she very dearly hopes…
Tonight Feels Impossible
But after a night spent together in a hotel's honeymoon suite, she doubts she ever will and fears it might be her downfall.
To All The Kudos I've Left Before
Ficwriter au set in university. "Fanfiction is the guiltiest of pleasures that Lily - twenty years old and studying at Hogwarts University - freely and happily indulges in. She reads fanfiction whenever she has a moment to herself and goes crazy whenever her favourite author - Artemis - updates or uploads another one of his works to Archive Of Our Own. Leaving them comments and the ensuing banter between them back and forth - however fleeting - makes her heart race and preoccupies a fair amount of her thoughts, which - in turn - angers her best friend.
James Potter has never had to suffer from an inferiority complex. His parents and friends are supportive of his every endeavour and this includes his habit to write fanfiction and put his written work out there in the void for his readers to enjoy. His readers are highly supportive too - Lilium being his absolute favourite - that is, until he starts to receive the vilest of comments from a number of guest accounts and starts to question his entire online existence.
What Artemis and Lilium don’t know? That they might know each other a little better than either of them ever bargained for."
The title says it all ❤ ❤❤
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folklorebau · 1 year
Text
the one — eddie roundtree
pairing: eddie roundtree x fem!musician!reader
description: after breaking your heart and losing your trust, eddie tries to win your heart back. through all the hurt, comes a lot of light.
warnings: written in interview style like the book! reader is a musician but she isn’t in the band, use of Y/N (</3). REQ’s are open!
🍸 ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ 🎙️ ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ 🪩 ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ 🎧
Eddie: I asked myself a lot of questions back then, but I could never actually answer any of them. It was like everything good had blown up in my face and it was all my fault. I didn’t really know what to do.
Karen: Chase two girls, lose the one. I always knew Eddie loved Y/N, but he also loved Camila. I told Eddie he had to go away and have a think about everything.
Warren: Whatever he felt for Camila, it was different with Y/N. Camila was his first love, sure, but Y/N is the love of his life.
Eddie took himself away from the band for a few days, he arranged it with the necessary people and put in place a ‘getaway plan’ as he recalls it. He stayed away for an extra week, hiding away in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. When he came back he had a new guitar, a green Fender Stratocaster, and a few unfinished love songs.
Warren: Why he took himself up to Oregon of all places I will never know. He would of been welcome to hand on my boat but the man had shit to sort through I suppose.
Karen: Whatever he did those few days he was gone worked wonders.
Eddie: The second I got back I picked Karen up and swung her around. I couldn’t thank her enough.
Y/N: I wouldn’t be a second choice, I left because that’s what it felt like with him, that I was always going to be second choice.
Eddie: I always thought I knew best but I really didn’t. I knew Billy wouldn’t like the songs I had written, because it was always what him and Daisy had written that mattered. I think Karen was nervous when I told her I’d been writing.
Karen: I thought he had gone mad. [Laughs]
Billy: I would have heard him out at least, but… no I probably would have hated whatever he had come up with. I was a control freak like that. We [Him and Daisy] both were.
Eddie: I didn’t care what Billy thought of them. I hadn’t written them for Billy, I wrote them for me, but also for Y/N.
Y/N: [Laughs] They were… well they were okay! He poured his whole heart into them, so they were special but Eddie Roundtree is not a songwriter!
Eddie: She said that? [Laughs] Well… she’s right! I suppose I just wanted to tell her how I really felt. Once I had shown her what I’d come up with she sat down next to me and just started scribbling all over it.
Y/N: I wanted to finish one of the songs.
Eddie: She had picked one out, ‘The 1’. It was about what you wish you had, what you could of had if you hadn’t messed everything up.
Y/N: I kind of wanted to make him sweat a bit.
Eddie: I was so nervous, I just kept thinking say something, say anything!!
Y/N: We stayed up late laughing, drinking, writing. We talked about Eddie’s time in Oregon. I told him what I had gotten up to.
Eddie: Then she told me she had missed me.
Y/N: I was so worried to let him back in.
Eddie: I was so glad she let me in. So glad.
Eddie Roundtree sold the song to an up and coming band. Y/N and Eddie were credited as the songwriters for the record. Upon release it climbed the charts to number 32. The pair celebrated with the band they had sold the record to by buying them lunch one afternoon in California.
Eddie: She made me work for it.
Y/N: Like I said, I wanted to see him sweat.
Eddie: I didn’t mind though. Life was very fast, very unpredictable back then. I got to slow down with her, just making sure she was okay, checking in, having meals together, falling asleep next to each other, it was all… it felt like a sure thing. I felt very lucky, and the most alive I think. Yeah.
Y/N: He had asked me a couple times, can we make this official? I told him to wait it out. I think I wanted to know that he would stick it out, that he would wait for me for once. A lot of our relationship at the start felt like me waiting around for him. It wasn’t a payback thing necessarily, more just, I don’t know. I was protecting my heart.
Eddie: I felt very… unsure. I didn’t know if I was worth it to her. I think she saw that in me, that I didn’t really value myself. She turned that around.
Y/N: One night before a show, I turned up and he was so shocked to see me. I remember his face just lighting up, I knew then. I knew with everything in me, I wanted him and he wanted me.
Eddie: I had pined and grovelled for months and right before I am about to step on stage to a sold out show, she kisses me. I couldn’t believe it. I actually couldn’t believe her! I swear she just liked to see me sweat.
Y/N: I didn’t mean to! At the time I had gone to just see the band. Well, I was going to see Eddie too but I didn’t intend on kissing him! I’m glad I did though.
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neobaobei · 8 months
Text
Flower
Pairing: Husband!Jeon Wonwoo x Wife!Female Reader
Genre: pure fluff, kinda arranges marriage au, spouses-to-lovers au lol
Warnings: few profanities, wonwoo wears glasses(yes, this is an important warning)
Word count: 1.7k
Summary: A little sneak peek in your new married life with Wonwoo as you both celebrate your one month anniversary.
A/N: Lovelies I'm back from being unalive :^) been really really busy with studies and shit. Will try to update a little frequent TT
Song Rec: Flowers by Seventeen.
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"Thank you", you mumble with a smile on your face, bowing in the process. You look at the pretty water lilies, the light pink shade pleasing your eyes, as you ponder why these are so underrated.
You stride to your car and place the bouquet of the newly purchased flowers gently, not forgetting to savour the fragrance yet once again. You get into the car, tucking yourself under the seat belt, before smiling again.
If anyone could see you, they would probably think that you're possessed by some smiling demon. But no one knows that you are actually smiling because of your husband!!!
You sit there, leaning your head back on the seat, pushing your glasses up, thinking about how you are going to give him these flowers. In all honesty, you don't even know if he likes these and you would be lying if you say that you did not ask your friends about the birth flowers and the theory behind it.
You would also be lying if you say that you did not spend the whole two hours last night, browsing through his facebook page, looking for his birthday, just because you were too ashamed to ask him directly!
You just hope that he likes these flowers…
You start the engine and drove back to your house, with a smile still adorning your face.
It all feels so fast. You feel like you just were in the first grade with your dad wiping you tears that would not stop coming; but now suddenly you are married and not to mention, today's your one month anniversary!
You still remember the exact moment wonwoo came into your life. You always wanted to marry a person who you knew by heart and loved dearly, but when your dad said that he wants you to get married to wonwoo, you couldn't obligue to it. Not because you knew your father knows what's good for you, but also you knew wonwoo.
Yes, you knew wonwoo. I mean he's your dad's friend's son. Your classmate, who barely had two friends, had his face always deep inside a book, occasionally pushing his glasses back to its place.
You've never seen someone that attractive with glasses. As someone who wears glasses, let's just say that you knew not all look good in glasses.
You wanted to marry him not just because your dad wanted you to, but also because you knew how much of a gentleman he was. He used to send you goodmorning and goodnight messages everyday from the age 19 till now, because you jokingly once said that you feel sad when no one wishes you those as you lived alone. The little white heart near texts still flutters your heart.
You look back into the day, when you both had your lunch together, to discuss about the invitations and designs. You remember taking your first picture together with him (it's still in your wallet!).
You were so in love with him, but never once you would admit it to yourself.
You had a smile on your face as you pulled the car in front of a cafe. You entered the cafe, the bell chiming indicating that someone has entered the shop. Your best friend and the cafe owner, Mingyu, looks over his shoulder at you and smiles. His shirt sleeves rolled up, some flour sticking on to his purple sweater that you both bought together.
"Gosh, it's blinding to see you smiling so much!" He exclaims rolling his eyes playfully, but genuinely feeling happy, when he finds you looking at the little cake that you told him to make for your one month anniversary.
It was a cute cake, blue coloured lettering(as you found out his favourite colour was blue, after some… let's say investigation..) that said "Wonwoo & Y/N; Since 8th July" and some heart shaped milk chocolates here and there. You couldn't stop smiling at it.
Gosh, you feel like a teenage girl who got accepted by her crush!!!
A playful scowl taking over your giddy smile as you turned to him. "Shut up and just tell me how much it is." You said as you rummage your handbag, looking for your wallet.
"Get out of here if you're gonna pay." Mingyu says, crossing his arms in front of his chest, before he walks towards, packing the cake that was freshly baked an hour ago, in a blue coloured box as you asked for.
You know that he's never going to accept the money you give him, so you walk towards him, trapping him in a hug. But little does he know that you slipped a fifty dollar bill in his apron.
You thank him with the hug (and the money that he doesn't know you sneaked in until the shift got over. He knows it's definitely you and reminds himself to give you a handful of nagging next day) and leave the bakery with a smile and drive back straight to your home.
You parked your car into your garage, not forgetting to check your hair and apply only lip balm, knowing that he doesn't prefer makeup. You hang your bag on your right shoulder, carrying the cake in one hand and the pretty, pink flowers in another.
You somehow manage to carry all those and open the door, already knowing that he would be home by now as it was already 7:47 pm. For a fact that you knew that wonwoo would always be chilling on the couch with his novel (also waiting for you, so you both could eat the dinner together even if it's going to be in absolute silence), so where was he today?
You place the cake and the bouquet on the dining table, before setting off to your bedroom in search of him. You open the bedroom door, softly calling out his name, only to find him doing something you never expected him to.
He was arranging red carnations and a Lego set and what it said absolutely shocks you!
'I <3 U to my pieces'
Hearing your voice, he quickly tries to hide the Lego set and the flowers he prepared for you under the bed, failing miserably as you've already seen everything.
You were supposed to reach home only at 8:05, why are you early by eighteen minutes today!? He's even still wearing his glasses for God sake!!!
Wonwoo stood up from the floor hurriedly, his face and neck painted red, as he tried to make something out as he saw you standing at the doorway, shocked.
You walked towards him, wanting to ask what this all was before he started blabbering: "Y/N, I really want to surprise you with the Lego set as it's our one month anniversary but you were not supposed to come this early today. Heck, I'm not even ready yet. I really wanted to tell you that I've been in love with you for the past one and a half year but before that happy one month anniversary; I love you and it's fine if you don't like me back-"
You cut his rambling with a hug. You hug him tight, your glasses hitting his chest as you turn left, your head barely reaching his shoulders. You could hear how hard his heart his hammering against his chest as he turned redder than he already was. He stands there with his mouth gaped, not knowing if it's right for him to hug you back.
You're his wife for god's sake!
You stand there in his embrace after he finally decides to hug you back, after a whole two minutes of debating whether to hug you or not. A smile forms on his face, as he feels you smiling against his chest too.
Tears pool your eyes but a smile still present on your face. You never expected this!
You look him in the eyes, breaking the hug making him feel the lack of warmth even if it's not even thirty seconds yet. The moment he looked at your teary eyes, his smile dropped so quickly, thinking that he spoke something really absurd as he starts apologizing profusely.
"Oh god! I'm-I'm so s-sorry, did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you? I'm sorry, I'm s-sorry-"
You cut him off once again, but this time it's with a kiss. You locked your lips with him, his eyes double the size that usual. Your glasses collide against his as he finally moves his lips against yours, a never ending smile playing on both of your lips, as he grabs you by the neck deepening the kiss. One hand on his neck and another on his waist, you pull him closer than you already, not minding your glasses that keep dashing uncomfortably against each other.
You both pull away, gasping for air, red tint adorning your cheeks, feeling like a goddamn teenager. You pull him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck, making him hold onto your waist.
He gently rests his forehead against yours, holding onto you as if you're going to disappear if he loosens his grip on you.
"Wonu, I love you too." You whisper softly, your fingers playing with his black locks in the back of his head.
"W-wait wha-t? Are you for real?!" He exclaims with genuine surprise on his face, as he tries to pull a bit from you.
You smiled before shyly nodding your head, making him beam in a way you never thought he could, making you smile too. Though he had his glasses on, you could still see his eyes getting teary as he pulls you into a hug, a poor attempt to hide his tears.
You both stayed comfortably in each others arms, before he shyly, too quietly whispers: "I fucking love you so much, Jeon Y/N", making you chuckle softly before replying: "I love you too, Jeon Wonwoo".
Time passed as you both exchanged the flowers with each other, smiles never leaving your faces as you even ate the cake, taking tons of pictures together.
You want to hang your portraits with him in your living room, just like mingyu and his wife, too!!
You both passed out on the couch, watching the movie that was long forgotten as you both were busy kissing each other every two minutes once.
husband wonwoo for the win.
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hiorisgf · 1 year
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##I'LL MAKE YOU MORE FLOWERS, SO PLEASE SMILE MORE
↪Paper flowers are difficult to make. But for you, he'll do it a hundred times.
↪ft. Mikage Reo
↪What's on your mind?: I don't know how to draw flowers please forgive me guys
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Mikage Reo was a prodigy. A jack of all trades master of none type of guy. The genius that could copy up to 99% of any techniques available—a well-known football player in the world of football. But why. Why can't he emulate what the video taught him just 3 hours ago?
Reo holds up the flower origami he made, sighing at the pathetic imitation of the flower origami you'd see in the video. Without caring where it'll land, Reo mindlessly throws it at wherever—not bothered enough to care about messing up his already messed up room. A pile of crumpled papers surrounded him, taking up the space of his room;but that was the least of his problems. 
He tries again, trying to do exactly just what the video told him to. Only to still somehow mess up; he winces at the depressed looking flower, swearing it didn't look like this before. He groans as he yet again throws another paper away and take another coloured paper to repeat the steps. This was harder than he expected it to be. Honestly, why couldn't he be talented at the things that mattered most? Why is it that when he decides to make really good use of his talent it suddenly doesn't work?
"Gah! I can't do it, it's too difficult!" 
Reo ruffles his hair, grumbling as he fails to yet again make a decent looking flower origami. 
For a moment, Reo considers giving up. Why did he even do somethings as troublesome as this? He could just buy some—
"I like handmade gifts. I mean—aren't they just so romantic?! And cute to boot! I wish I could recieve one someday too.."
Your words stops him from his thoughts and made him remember just why exactly he decided to do such a troublesome task like, make a bouqet of paper flowers made by him to be sent to yours truly. The reason was honestly simple, because he wanted to impress you. To prove to you that he could be the guy you'd like—the guy you'd come to love. He wanted to see you smile, to see your eyes sparkle like the stars in the night sky as he hands you the gift he's worked hard on. To see you fall more inlove with him. Reo remembers his motivations, and he comes back with twice as much motivation than before. For your smile! He'd tell himself, taking another sheet of paper and folding it. 
Hours pass and he may never get to sleep at this rate, but if it's for you then he wouldn't mind. He hums a song, one from the playlist he's made as he thought of you before. A determined grin etches its way onto his face, determined to finish the present if only for the sake of your smile.
"Ah! I finally did it!"
Reo proudly raises his paper art. It was considerably better—now atleast somewhat decent rather than being downight horrendous. Arranging the paper flowers into a bouqet, he spun it around and nodded his head in agreement. This should suffice. Now all he needed to do is sleep and—it was already 7:40 am. He was already ten minutes late to school. 
With haste, he quickly grabs his phone and check the time. And sure enough, it said in bold numbers: 7:42 am.
Shoot. He was late.
Without wasting any seconds, Reo immediately stood up and ran to the bathroom. Almost tripping over a paper he crumpled and threw away, he curses as he barely managed to fall all the way down. 
By the time he arrived, he was 34 minutes late to class.
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Oh. This was more nerve-wracking than he thought. 
He only realizes that when he's standing right infront of you. Paper flowers hidden behind his back. He feels his hand sweat and shake—voice growing shaky as he starts to say the lines he's been preparing since this early morning. It's bothering—how tounge tied he gets around you. He's stuttering and spluttering, barely managing to say the words he's been wanting to tell you.
With trembling hands, he nervously hands you the bouqet. "Here." 
When you take the gift from his hands, he grows worried. Eyeing the paper flower with disdain as he only now realizes the dozens of flaws it had. His work could be compared to that of a kinder gartener—it was seriously bad. A part of him wants to take it back, to grab it from your hand and stomp on it then run away. It's bad—undeserving of your attention and your touch. He wants to go and crawl into a 10 ft hole he digged and hide himself for the rest of eternity. Where did he get the idea that it'd be enough to even consider giving to you?
"Ah. Reo, did you make this?" you ask—and there's the certain tone in your voice that gets his heart to pick up the pace.
"Y—yeah. Although it isn't the best. Sorry."
"..Oh."
A second—and a smile blooms on your face. It looks different, he'd notice. It wasn't like the smiles you'd give when he bought you store bought gifts—a tinge of uncomfortability always tainted the expression and bothered him. It wasn't like the comforting smiles you'd give whenever he was in trouble. Nor did it look like the ones you'd have throughout the day. This one was different—different in the way the thousands of constellations in your eyes would light up and dance around as you take the time to admire the bouqet, ignoring the one hundred mistakes you could see from there. It's different in the way time seemed to slow to a stop just to look at you. Different in the way you looked etheral with the smile—and the light casted over by the windows and the sun up above; as though you were an angel on earth.
Pure, unbridled joy rests on your face. It seeps from you and heads over to him, and it leaves him smiling idiotically. As uncharacteristic that is. It's unbelievable, how it wasn't brand gifts you wanted. How such a lousy gifts full of mistakes was enough to get you smiling like this. It's unbelievable, how it took him so long to know about this. Why had he deprived himself of such a smile so long? He must've been a fool. 
"Thank you Reo!! I really, really, really love it!" 
Ah. The smile you've directed at the bouqet alone— is now being directed at him, and he feels like dying. 
"Next time" he starts, bringing you back from your reverie. "Next time, I'll make you a better one than that. So wait for it until then" 
If only for your smile, then he'll do the hellish procedure of making paper flowers again. A million—or a billion times if he has to. Until he can make a flower perfect for you, then he won't stop. But even after he's already made a paper flower worthy of you—he doesn't think he'll stop.
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good4olivia · 1 year
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solutions
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pairing: aemond targaryen x maid!reader summary: aemond disagree's over what his lover should be doing this evening
Aemond smiled too himself as he closed the door to his chambers seeing you already there, folding his sheets over the bed. “My love, good news.” He announced. 
You looked up at the prince, your lover in secret. You worked as his maid, well you were placed to Aegon’s chambers but Aemond quickly saw to remedy that. “Pray tell.” You answered, walking to meet him in the centre of the room. 
Aemond quickly met your lips in a kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist. “The lords from the Reach are running a day late behind in their travels so dinner has been moved a few evenings. Which means, I will be free to the spend the evening with you, much to my pleasure.”  
“And you assume I have no plans this evening?” You said, a teasing glint in your eyes. In truth you had made arrangements for the evening, seeing as Aemond was preoccupied and the septa had granted you a rare night off. 
Aemond only tensed, not one for jests when it came to his time with you. “And what pray tell, are your plans this night, [name].” 
You sensed the tension flowing off of him, he only ever used your name when he was crossed. “The court’s singer is a friend of mine and he is performing a number of songs in one of the taverns in Flea Bottom.” You told him, a slight smile finding your face at the thought of hearing some music. “He lets me in for free as I always slip him a lemon cake from the kitchen.” 
“Hmm.” Aemond dropped his hands from your waist and walked past you to his fireplace. You sighed and followed him there. 
“Aemond, darling, you’re not upset right? I only accepted the offer as I thought you to be preoccupied tonight.” You told him earnestly, though in the back of your mind, the idea of having a night to yourself away from the prince was comforting. The attention he gave you was like nothing you had ever experienced but at times it could be overwhelming and easy to get lost it in it. 
“You shouldn’t have accepted at all.” He didn’t look at you, “You are not going to the performance.” He spoke it as a statement that you had no way of refusing. 
“My prince,” You reached for his hand, “I’ve been looking forward to this night. I don’t get to hear music very often, it is quite a treat.” 
“You look forward to a night away from me?” He scoffed, finally looking you in the eyes. “Do I not always tell you; I’ll give you anything you want? Yet you have never mentioned your love for songs.” 
“I feel weird asking you for things, Aemond. You already do so much for me.” His eye softened at that but you could tell he was still no where close to letting this go. 
“If you wish to hear the court singer play, I will have him perform in my chambers.” Aemond suggested. 
You could feel the frustration growing inside of you like a vine, “I wish to go the taverns and see my friend perform to a crowd, I wish to-“ You cut yourself off. You knew Aemond would only twist your words. 
Thankfully, he skipped past your slip up, “I will escort you to the show, if it’s this important to you.” 
“Aemond-“ 
“Flea Bottom is dirty, dangerous and full of horrible men and women. Anything could happen to you there, how do you expect me to sleep knowing my princess is in that sewage city and not here, in my bed?” He questioned. Aemond often referred to you as his princess, when you brought up you’re only a maid - he would simply say one day you would be his wife so you were already a princess in his eyes. 
“If Flea Bottom is so repulsive to you, why do you think you would have a good time in the tavern?” 
“I’m not going there to have a good time, I’m only going to protect you. I don’t understand, I am only offering a solution.” 
“Saying you won’t let me go unless you escort me is not a solution.” 
“It’s the only way you’re going so take it or leave it.” 
You had nothing left to say so you stood up and finished the work you had left in his room. Aemond sighed, ran his hands down his face. He did not mean to upset you or be difficult but how could you not see how horrible Flea Bottom is? How could you want to spend your time there? If he was being honest, he also knew it was because you did not grow up in royalty like him. You were used to dirty streets and loud taverns, he was not. It was only another thing that reminded him that you from different worlds. How he wished that you were born in a higher place in the world, so you could love each other without objection. 
“My beautiful, please. I don’t want us to fight. I promise that I won’t make complaints during our time there, I will be on my best behaviour.” He said, wrapping his arms around you from behind resting his head on your shoulder. 
You were still silent, so he started to kiss the side of your face which only made you melt in his arms. “Promise me?” You gave in. 
“Yes, my heart. I just.” He paused trying to find the words,”I would burn down the seven kingdoms if I was ever to be without you.” The statement made your breath catch in your throat. Just as much as you had your reservations about his intense love for you, you loved it as well. You grew up knowing you were nothing, a nobody servant girl but now the prince of the seven kingdoms is madly devoted to you. It was like nothing you had ever experienced and you knew you never wanted to be without it. 
“Very well, then.” You turned around to face him, kissing him as well. “I love you.” It was the first time you ever said it. You felt the nerves martliaze in your belly awaiting his response. 
Aemond was silent for a moment, his mind was racing. He knew he loved you for long but he hadn’t though you to be the first to say it. He was overjoyed. Aemond removed his eye patch and let it fall to the ground. He wanted you to see all of him. You gently ran your thumb down the scar. “It’s beautiful.” 
He kissed your thumb, then held your hand in his. “I love you more than I have ever thought possible.” 
You smiled at him, he returned it. The feeling he always he carried in his chest when his eye patch was on was gone when you looked at him not as he was a monster but a whole man worthy of your love. 
“I should go get ready for tonight.” You squeaked with excitement, “I have one evening dress, I only save it for special occasions.” 
You squeezed his hand and kissed his cheek but before you could get two feet away he reached out for your wrist again. He had the mind to offer you one of his sister gowns but just before he spoke he figured that was not the right attire for Flea Bottom. 
Instead he only said, “Meet me back here in an hour.” 
“An hour? He doesn’t start singing an hour before the 24th bell.” You told him. Aemond only nodded and you were off, skipping away to get ready for the night. 
Aemond sighed, this was going to be a long night. It was worth it to him though, he would do anything to spend time with you and protect you.
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moanz111 · 11 months
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daisy. - kang yeosang
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pairing ❀ poet! yeosang x gn! florist! reader
genre ❀ fluff, strangers to lovers, one shot
synopsis ❀ for you, flowers are the doors to people's souls. so when a mysterious man with a strange obsession with daisies comes into your flower shop on your opening day, you can't help but feel drawn to him.
w.c. ❀ 4.3 k
warnings ❀ kissing, drinking, so so much fluff, english is not my native language, so there can be mistakes
credits for all the used graphics belong to their rightful owners!
song recs ❀ daisy. - wave to earth; i'm in love - colde
The sweet aroma of flowers filled your senses as you spun around in your desk chair, taking in the atmosphere. You were sure there wasn’t a day in your life you’d felt happier. Maybe you had exaggerated a bit when you said that to your friend Wooyoung this morning during one of your usual face time sessions, but you knew there was a pinch of truth. 
Last week that would’ve been a distant silly childhood dream, but luck was on your side. You had tried your best, day and night, to make this a reality, and as usual - hard work had paid off. Younger you would’ve freaked out if they could see you now - sitting behind the counter of your own flower shop. 
You had always loved flowers - the way each type had its distinguishable scent, vibrant colours, unique forms, and, above all - their meaning. What had been just a quick exploration of your grandmother’s garden when you were ten turned out to be the reason for your obsession. 
“Yellow tulips are my favourite,” the older woman had said, swiping away the sweat formed under the brim of her broad straw hat as you walked around her most prized possession. You asked her curiously why, crouched down to take in their sweet fragrance. “Their meaning reminds me of you - like them, you’re my little sunshine and happiness.”
The memory filled your heart with nostalgia. You missed those times a lot, but you knew your grandmother was your number one supporter ever since you had told her about your wish to become a florist. She was the first to know about the shop too.
Flowers were fascinating to you, even though most people around you didn’t understand what was so special about them. All that didn’t matter to you. You finally had your space to cherish them as much as you wanted.
Today was the opening of your shop, and you couldn’t wait to welcome your first client. Unable to stay still, you got up and started picking up some flowers from the buckets around you - might as well fill your time doing something productive. Your first bouquet for the day was going to be special - a pink and yellow tulip one. 
As you arranged the freshly cut flowers on the counter, humming along to the song playing on the radio next to you, you couldn’t help but smile for probably the hundredth time since you woke up. Yellow tulips for cheerfulness, pink - for good wishes and friendships. Too busy repeating their meaning in your mind, you didn’t notice the ringing of the small bell, placed at the entrance, signaling that someone had entered the store. 
“Excuse me, are you open?” The raspy voice of the newcomer startled you, and you dropped your scissors on the floor, looking up. You were almost blinded. The man standing at the doorframe was, to say the least, breathtaking. His dark hair fell loosely around his face, and he seemed as if he was stifling a yawn. You took notice of his clothes too - he was wearing a white shirt, tugged in black, elegant pants, and you wondered what kind of job he had. 
“Oh, yes,” you said after clearing your throat with a quiet cough. “Please, welcome.”
“Are you busy? I can come later,” the man responded, pointing to the almost-finished bouquet before you as he approached you. Now up close, you were sure - he was gorgeous. Feeling flustered under his studying sleepy gaze, you bent down to pick up the fallen scissors. 
“Oh, no, I’m just passing the time,” you explained as you got up. You saw him holding a hardcover book, which he placed on the counter, smiling gently. The cover had you staring at it in awe - it depicted a small green field filled with daisies, but from your angle, you couldn’t read the title or the author’s name.
“Congratulations on opening. I’m your neighbour, so to speak,” he joked, stretching out his right hand. “Yeosang, nice to meet you.”
His hand was warm, and his grip was firm when you shook it, introducing yourself. “Let me guess…”
Yeosang raised his eyebrows with a grin, waiting for your next words. “You’re the bookstore’s owner.”
“How did you know?” You laughed at his genuine surprise and shrugged, “Guess I was born with psychic abilities.”
“I should’ve hidden the book,” Yeosang murmured, frowning. “Yes, but I’m also an author.”
He picked up the book from the counter and handed it to you. You noticed a faint blush on his cheeks. This time you saw the cover properly - Illusion.  A collection of poetry by Kang Yeosang. You ran your fingers through the title, admiring the beautifully illustrated daisies. Yeosang’s low chuckle made you look up at his face again, feeling a little embarrassed. “You like the flowers, don’t you?”
“Caught in the act,” you said, grinning when he threw his head back and laughed louder this time. “It’s beautiful. I’ll definitely read it.”
“I hope you like it. Do tell me which one is your favourite,” Yeosang answered, taking a business card from his pocket and handing it to you. There were even more daisies at the back of it. Sensing your amusement, he quickly explained, “Daisies are my favourite. Don’t judge me too much.”
“I never judge based on flower tastes,” you exclaimed, shaking your head.
“I feel like you just lied to me,” Yeosang’s mischievous tone made you smile again. “Take this as an official invitation to my book premiere tomorrow. The book isn’t out yet, so don’t give any spoilers.”
“Yeah,” you teased. “I’ll just post a few screenshots. Nothing more.”
“I might have to take it back, be careful,” he tilted his head to the right, his expression serious. Why was your heart fluttering? “Actually, I came to buy some flowers. So what would you say are the perfect flowers for the start of the week?”
His question caught you off guard, but your brain was already searching for the answer. Looking around the buckets filled with flowers behind him, you murmured more to yourself than speaking directly to him, “Daffodils for new beginnings, chrysanthemums for optimism and joy…”
“You sure know a lot about it, huh,” Yeosang’s deep voice shifted your focus back on him, and you felt heat rush into your cheeks. “Then I’d take seven daffodils, please.”
Trying to contain your excitement from having your first customer, you made a simple composition, adding a few branches of baby’s breath around the white daffodils and tying them with a simple yellow ribbon. While you were working, you felt Yeosang’s intense stare still on you, making your hands tremble a little. “Here you are.”
The man smiled warmly as you handed him the small bouquet. “Have a nice day, Y/N. I’ll be waiting for you.”
As you watched him turn and wave at you one last time from the door before he left, you let out a sigh. 
Yes, this was the best day of your life.
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“Yeah, he was definitely flirting with you,” your friend Wooyoung shouted while you were taking your third shot for the night, both of you sitting on the soft carpet in your living room in your pajamas. You had invited him earlier to celebrate the shop’s opening, but you definitely hadn’t expected him to show up with a bag filled with soju bottles. 
After Yeosang had left, the day was relatively quiet and uneventful. A few customers came in and left satisfied, and your parents visited you too. Your sales weren’t that great, but at least you did what you loved the most. And now you regretted sharing your encounter with the handsome poet with your best friend.
“Stop making things weird. He was just being nice,” you answered, your mind already envisioning Yeosang’s face as if he was standing right in front of you again. You would’ve lied if you said you didn’t like him and hadn’t thought about him around ten times today. Maybe even more. You even read some of his poems while waiting for customers and were left speechless. He had a beautiful way with words for which you envied him a bit - to manage to convey your emotions through a few lines so well was something you found awfully attractive.
“You always think that men “are just being nice” to you,” Wooyoung rolled his eyes, pouring you and him another drink. At this rate, you had no idea how you were getting up for work tomorrow, but it was expected - nights with him were always like this. 
You had known him all your life, with your moms being best friends since university. He was the person in your life who knew you the most and wanted the best for you. You were always grateful to have him close to you, but at the same time, you really wanted to smack him right now. 
“You’re being annoying again,” you groaned and pulled playfully his pierced ear, to which he whined. “Stop playing a matchmaker.”
“Stop being so single,” Wooyoung teased you and emptied his glass, pointing at yours to do the same. You gladly took that shot. If the conversation kept going this way, you had to be intoxicated as much as possible. “And my judgment is never wrong.”
“After my disaster of a date with Yunho, you still have the guts to think that?”
Wooyoung loved setting you up with his friends, and you, honestly, had no idea why. Every single date went the same way - they took you to a nice restaurant, you had dinner, talked for a bit, and then they escorted you to your apartment, hoping to be invited in. You didn’t do it. And they didn’t call again either. 
Wooyoung was always telling you you had too high standards, and you felt silly crushing on a man you saw for the first time today and knew nothing about.
“Hey, slight miscalculations happen. And I always pick out the hottest people for you,” Wooyoung stated in a matter-of-fact tone. “But seriously, step up your game. You can’t spend your whole life sniffing flowers.”
The pillow hit him right in the face, to your satisfaction.
You didn’t mind the flowers being your only company at all.
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The following day was, to say the least, extremely nerve-wracking. Yeosang had come by to see you first thing in the morning and to remind you of his premiere. He didn’t stay for long, saying he still had a lot of things to prepare, and left after buying some roses of different colours to decorate his bookstore. 
Little did he know, you’d spent the night tossing and turning, wondering what to wear, what to say, and after Wooyoung’s comments about Yeosang you couldn’t even imagine looking him in the eyes. There was no way you could’ve forgotten about tonight.
So after changing out of your working apron and putting on the outfit you’d picked out as the best in your closet, you headed over to Yeosang’s bookstore - Little Miracles, holding the bouquet of tulips you’d made the day before. 
It suited his style, you concluded when you entered the small and cozy shop, filled with stacks of books everywhere. You took your time, walking around the shelves, occasionally picking up some books. You realised it was more of an antiquarian bookstore with many special editions of your favourite works, such you’d never seen before.  
“You like something?” His deep voice startled you and sent a wave of shivers down your spine. You felt your heart skip a beat when you turned to look at Yeosang, standing on your left for who knows how long before you noticed him. Just like yesterday, he was dressed in formal attire, 
but this time his hair was slicked back, exposing his forehead, with a few strands falling in front of his eyes. You knew you were staring, probably even gawking at him, but he looked so nice. “I mean the books.”
Feeling heat burning your cheeks, you looked away from his amused eyes. “I think I might want to live here.”
Yeosang grinned at you and pointed to the book you were holding - Dracula by Bram Stocker. You had read it when you were younger, and you couldn’t deny that it was the beginning of your vampire obsession phase. “You can take it as a gift. I appreciate that you came.”
“Oh, it looks too expensive.” And truly you were a bit afraid to not damage or stain the black and red hardcover with an ominous castle drawn in the middle. You couldn’t possibly accept this as a gift even though you thought you’d cry if you took it.
“Please,” Yeosang said hopefully, pushing the book to your chest. “Then keep it safe for me?”
The spark in his eyes was enough to convince you. “I guess I have to take it then…”
“Now that wasn’t so difficult, was it,” the man teased you, leaning with one hand on the bookshelf next to him. “You’re always welcome here. Come whenever you want to.”
“Thank you,” you blushed at his words even more, maintaining eye contact with him becoming too difficult. “Oh, these are for you. Congratulations.”
You handed him the bouquet, feeling the need to turn his attention away from you. Otherwise, you had no idea how you were going to survive the night. Yeosang thanked you and shifted his position, so now he stood much closer to you than before. “I’d love us to talk more, but I have to start the meet and greet soon. How about I treat you to dinner later?”
“Oh,” you stuttered, barely processing what was happening. “Yes, of course. I’d love to.”
“Great,” he chuckled, checking his wristwatch with a sigh. You noticed his hands were slightly trembling. 
“Hey, don’t be nervous,” you tried comforting him. “You have talent, and your poems are amazing.”
“So you’ve read them,” Yeosang shot you a wide smile. “I’m not letting you go anywhere before you tell me about this later.”
Feeling too flustered to answer, you nodded and followed behind him as Yeosang led you to the centre of the bookstore where he had placed some chairs, most of them occupied. You took a seat at the back, trying to calm down your racing heart.
If a flower could describe your feelings now, it would be a pink rose. 
Happiness.
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Yeosang was a smooth talker.
Even though you’d known him for only two days, you felt as if he had been there your whole life. After his signing session ended and he sent off the last bit of guests, he closed the bookstore and took you to your favourite part of the city, full of quiet and cozy restaurants where you could get to know each other uninterrupted.
You had a lot in common - you both liked matcha lattes and chocolate muffins, enjoyed riding your bikes, watching the sunset, and you both hated spicy food, loud places and queuing for a book at the bookshop on its release day. 
Yeosang told you about his bookstore and how it had all started. Surprisingly, he had graduated as a film major but hadn’t made any progress in that field, so he decided to turn to his hobby - writing. That’s how almost four years ago he opened his shop and started collecting old and tattered books, trying to find them a new home. You loved the spark in his eyes when he told you his story and realised you felt the same way about flowers. All you wanted was for the people who bought them to continue appreciating them as much as you did. 
You also noticed he was much shyer than you thought him to be, which you found endearing, and wondered how many more sides of him you were yet to uncover. His calm demeanor made you feel at home and safe with him, and you really didn’t want the night to end.
“So, tell me more about your daisies,” you began, taking a sip from your glass of wine. Yeosang let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.
“Are you that curious?” He challenged you, and honestly, you weren’t sure if it was because of all the wine you had or him or both, but you had the urge to look away. The teasing glint in his gaze was too much for your poor soul, and you felt as if you were burning up every time you locked eyes. 
“Well, you don’t see every day a grown-up man with a daisy obsession, so yeah,” you answered, fidgeting with your fingers nervously. Yeosang looked confident in your eyes, but you could still see a slight redness creep up his neck.
“Well,” he started explaining, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. “I guess they just remind me of my childhood. When I was younger, I used to live in the countryside with my family for a while. There was this huge field with daisies where my parents, older sister, and I went every weekend. They bring me comfort, and I like their meaning as well.”
You imagined little Yeosang running around a big green field, chasing after butterflies and picking up daisies. Your heart might have as well burst at this point. “That sounds so adorable.”
“You think so? The bees weren’t so adorable,” he arched his eyebrows, smirking, and took a sip from his glass. “So, tell me about your flowers then. A story for a story.”
“My grandma used to be a florist herself in the past, so ever since I was born, there were flowers everywhere around me,” you recall, thinking of all the times she’d let you watch her tend her garden and help her water the small buds, waiting for them to grow. “I love everything about them - even though some people say they are just temporary happiness. There’s beauty in the fleeting too.”
“Let’s drink to that then,” Yeosang grinned, raising his glass. You did the same and nodded to him to continue. “To all the flowers and all the happy memories they leave behind.”
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Over the next few months, you fell into a comfortable daily routine. You opened your shop at 8 in the morning, picked out the freshest flowers from the daily delivery you ordered from a local garden, and spent the whole day arranging bouquets until 5 in the afternoon. 
It fascinated you how people with different purposes, goals, and fates came to you to seek the comfort of flowers - some - for grief and loss, others - for first dates and confessions. You were always happy to help and introduce them to a deeper understanding of flowers.
The only variable in your life was Yeosang.
Your relationship remained painfully unlabeled. 
Were you dating? Kind of. You went out a few days per week, and whenever you didn’t, you stayed in his bookstore after you’d finished working, sharing a couple of hours of comfortable silence with him. During these quiet moments, he wrote his poems or read to you while you sat curled up on the sofa in his small office, reading whatever book you found that day or just listening to his soothing voice. 
Your mornings together were also something you loved. Yeosang, unlike you, was an early bird. His usual shift started at 10 a.m., but he came earlier so he could spend some extra time with you under the pretense he had nothing else to do. When you arrived at the shop, he was already sitting on the stairs in front of it, holding his daily gift, as called it, in his hands and shyly handed it to you. Usually, it consisted of a couple of daisies he’d picked up from the park next to his apartment building and a note wishing you a nice day or containing a short scribbled poem that always made you laugh. 
And your days were truly nice. Except you couldn’t stop thinking about Yeosang even for a minute. 
Today was no different, but this morning Yeosang seemed more nervous than usual. The sweat, glistening on his forehead, and his shaking hands as he handed you the daisies and a small piece of paper made you wonder what had him so worked up this early. He didn’t stay long, saying he had “some things to take care of” and left you alone, standing puzzled in the middle of your shop. 
Once you opened the folded note, you found out why Yeosang was acting so strangely.
Please, come and meet me at a field of daisies and dreams. 
Your hands were sweaty, your heart was probably beating in an inhumane rate, and you were smiling too widely as you walked to the location Yeosang had written on his morning note. It was past 7 p.m., and you could see the last vibrant colours of the fading sun light up the sky. The spring afternoon breeze caressed your face and swirled some cherry blossoms around you. You felt like you were a fairy tale character, surrounded by early-bloomed spring flowers and trees at your favourite park. It was close to your shop and one of the main reasons you chose that exact rental place. You loved going there after work, taking a long walk, and clearing up your thoughts whenever you felt the need to. You honestly didn’t expect Yeosang to remember this location since you’d told him about it a long time ago, yet he always found a way to surprise you.
There were a lot of people during this time of the day, so it was difficult spotting Yeosang in the sea of faces around you, but once you did - you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. 
No matter how many times you saw his face, you were always amazed. Now was no different - his bootcut jeans and blue t-shirt suited him perfectly, and his hair was hidden under a white beanie. He was holding a tote bag decorated with daisies in one hand as he waved at you with his free one. 
“Hey,” Yeosang beamed at you, pulling you in for a hug when he came closer. Wrapping your hands around him, you could smell the woody scent of his perfume and felt the softness of his dark locks at the nape of his neck under your fingertips. “You look beautiful.”
This date was going to be the end of you, for sure.
The cool night wind, the shimmering of the street lamps, and the calm breathing of Yeosang lying in your lap made you feel at peace. The sun was long gone under the horizon, and you had no idea how much time had passed since he pulled you to sit down on a soft blanket and took out of his bag probably the sweetest strawberries you’d ever eaten. Yeosang had definitely come prepared for this spontaneous picnic date. 
Now you ran your fingers mindlessly through his silky hair as he told you a story about some customer he had today. The position you were in felt domestic and comfortable as if you’d done this thousands of times before. You found it hard to concentrate on his voice when Yeosang started drawing random shapes on your thighs and then had the audacity to ask you about your day. If your head hadn’t been spinning from the overwhelming feeling of him, you would’ve probably answered him.
“Hey,” he whispered, his fingertips brushing your cheeks, trying to get your attention as he got up from your lap. The loss of his touch made you miss his warmth. “You’re spacing out.”
“You’re very distracting.” Unable to look at him or form any other coherent answer, you shifted your gaze to the small daisies growing on your right amongst the grass. You reached out your hand to touch them and felt the grass around them tickle your palm. 
“Now who’s obsessed with daisies, huh,” said Yeosang, amused, wrapping his fingers around your chin to turn your face to him. For a split second, you stopped hearing the world around you - the children’s laughter, the faded sound of music, coming from somewhere around you, all became muted under the rhythm of your heartbeat, ringing in your ears. It was just you and his soft gaze, studying your face, and Yeosang, rubbing his thumb across your chin. You saw his eyes wander downwards to your lips before he asked in a hushed voice, “Can I kiss you?”
Seconds after your nod, you felt Yeosang’s warm lips on yours. At first, his kiss was light and hesitant, and his movements- were slow and deliberate. You reached up to hold on to his t-shirt as he cupped your face with his big hands. The coldness of his palms made you shiver. Where you touched, you felt as if electricity was running through your body.
Before you knew it, Yeosang deepened the kiss, making you gasp for breath. Your shaky hands grabbed his shoulders for support while his moved to your thighs. It was too much. His lips left yours only to feel them on your neck, leaving shy kisses along your jawline and then continuing downwards. His lips stopped right above the daisy charm hanging from your silver necklace, which he had gifted you. The pink blush on Yeosang’s cheeks and the warmth and love you saw in his dark eyes were more than enough to make your heart swell with adoration. 
Yeosang reached for a small, freshly bloomed daisy beside him and pulled it from the ground. Placing it behind your ear, he caressed your cheek gently. “Do you know what’s the meaning of daisies?”
“Of course I do,” you replied, sounding offended. At this point, he had to know you were a walking flower encyclopedia. “New beginnings, purity, and faith.”
“That’s all?” Yeosang pressed, leaning in closer to your face again. The proximity had your head spinning. “I’ve heard of another one too.”
“And what is it?” You were feeling out of breath, his lips only centimeters away from yours. 
“True love.” 
These were his only words before Yeosang captured your lips in another kiss under the night sky and the stars shimmering above you.
You wanted this moment to last forever.
Daisies, you decided, were your favourite flowers.
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note ❀ happy (late) birthday to yeosang! ♡
after a short delay, i finally had time to finish daisy so thank you everyone for waiting! i hope you enjoyed reading it! i'm still not very confident in writing stuff like that so feedback is appreciated! please lmk what you thought of this story! ♡
also, how are you feeling about the comeback? so far i love it so much 😭
daisy., © moanz111
please do not modify, copy, repost, or translate.
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okilokiwithpurpose · 5 months
Text
Here comes a Gigolas AU for your consideration:
Arranged Marriage AU with a twist - the twist being that both Legolas and Gimli's parents are opposed to said marriage (sorry if it already exist!! i tried!).
Let me explain: to mend the relationships between Elves and Dwarves, some sort of High Council decides a wedding is the best option and, given their respective ages, the importance of their families and who knows how many other criteria, Gimli and Legolas are considered the best candidates. Glóin and Thranduil are absolutely opposed to it. Gimli and Legolas are not that keen on the idea either, but they decide to accept nonetheless (for the "Greater Good" and all that). This could include:
Their parents trying until the last minute to dissuade them
The awkward first meeting on the Wedding Day
The awkward first days/weeks not knowing what to talk about
The walking on eggshells, the stiff politeness, and the first time one of them let it all out that "they never asked to be there" and "they wish someone else had been chosen to play this farce."
Then getting to know each other, getting more comfortable around each other, slowly moving on from averse strangers to easy acquaintances (...to friends?)
Tasting each other's food - some they may be surprise to actually enjoy, other...not so much (and the visible effort to pretend t's "fine" or "very interesting" making the other laugh)
Gimli introducing drinking games to Legolas - and being amazed by Legolas' ability to hold his drink. Legolas discovering dwarven ale and Gimli discovering elven wine.
Gimli gifting/making jewelry for Legolas out of shining stones and the finest gold and silver (maybe trying to get inspiration from elven jewelry or going for a composite style)
each getting impressed by the other's fighting abilities (in training or on field)
Gimli admitting he does appreciate the softness of elven silk
Legolas admitting the deep harmony of dwarven songs captivate him
Both of them starting to properly enjoy their companionship and starting to fall in love
The time it takes them to come to realise it, and discover the feeling is mutual
How hard it becomes for each of them to visit/have relatives visiting and having to hear their friends and family pity them for "having to live with such a vile/disgusting/untrustworthy creature"
How bewildered Glóin/Thranduil get when their sons one day snaps at them, because "This is my husband you're talking about!!"
The decision a self conscious Gimli may once make to "accommodate his looks", using product to make his hair smother, straighter, his skin softer, changing his clothes (and maybe even -gasp- shaving his beard?), in an attempt to appear more desirable from an elve standpoint - and Legolas answering he finds Gimli beautiful with both looks, but that he prefers the one Gimli feels comfortable with
The inevitable schemes from people this wedding inconveniences (for political, cultural or personal reasons) who wish to separate them and are furious to see how close those two have become...
...and if they can't manage to pull them apart figuratively, they would have to go for a more literal type of separation (that is to say: abduction...or worse)
Gloin or Thranduil lowkey rejoicing that his son-in-law has been removed from the equation (which doesn't mean they have anything to do with it), for it means his son his free!
Gloin or Thranduil who also doesn't understand his son's eagerness to find and bring their spouse back, and how sad and broken they appear to be... (maybe both can finally come to realise how important Gimli and Legolas have become for each other and help in order for their sons to be happy!)
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