#And your explanation made no fucking sense. I don't think it even makes sense to you

[twoheadedstar]

👁️ranting in tags you know how it is👁️

#I'm so hungover from talking to you yesterday. and now it's another 'you' #a lesser you. an easier to talk to 'you' than the 'you' I keep talking to #and you're right that it's unfair. that it's easier to be angry at your role in this than hers #but that does not mean my anger is any less justified in its degree #I thought the anger had consumed me until I saw you #God you were so embittered. so passive aggressive that it rendered you unrecognisable #And yet you're still taking the easy road. You're still with her and yet you despise me to the point of deformity #What's it like when you wake up next to her? when you kiss her? Do you think of her doing the same to me? #Do you think of how brainwashed I was? Does it repulse you like it repulses me? #I don't know how you can be so acutely aware since day one of how fucked up her actions were and STILL stay #And your explanation made no fucking sense. I don't think it even makes sense to you #I was too much of a mess to handle afterwards? Sure. You had mentioned wanting to adopt me but sure. I can understand that. #But since the person who MADE ME INTO THAT MESS was all calm and contrite -- you stayed with her? #And so you left me because you could see it was going to eat me alive and didn't want any part of it. #You wash your hands of it #But you were fine being a part of HER life since SHE was an angel. #And I the imperfect victim. #You can forgive her for what she did to me but you can't forgive my sin of reacting to it when I was a teenager #To the point where tou look at me like I disgust you #The funniest part though #Was when you criticised me for saying at the time that she was perfect and good and would never hurt me and I was so mature for my age #so there was no way she could be hurting me and I knew what I was doing #did it feel good for you to rub that in my face? that I had let that happen to me? that I let it slide for three years? #Did it feel righteous and satisfying to look down on me for thinking that way when I wasn't even out of high school? #After everything I had just run away from? Everything YOU KNOW I went through? #I'm just glad I got to see your true face #And see what I don't want to become #txt

[bountycancelled]

OPLA characters reacting to a sweet, girly reader who turns out to be a a ruthless fighter

genre: headcanons, fem! reader, kinda suggestive??, idfk just read it bro

requested: nope, but reqs are open! pls, for the love of god, request for the opla♡

feat: zoro, sanji

a/n: reader's feminine but not female if that makes sense, only witting again because I'm obsessed with the one piece live action. also, this may be a little ooc, since I haven't watched the anime/read the manga, sorry about that! also, if you wanna be added to my perm taglist, pls feel free to ask!

☆ZORO☆

when you first joined the crew, zoro was immediately unsure of what exactly you brought to the table. I mean, they already had a swordsman, a sharp shooter, a navigator, a dumb cook and a captain/motivational speaker. so what were you doing here?

from luffy's explanation of you, he was aware that you were a good fighter, but he had never seen you in action.

the only things he had seen from you were stuffed animals laying around the ship, pastel outfits he could spot for miles, and bows that had been put in his hair while he slept.

he was tolerant of you at best, and straight up apathetic at worst, but finally, there came a time where someone tried picking a fight with you since you seemed like an easy target while you were walking with him and nami.

although he wasn't particularly fond of you (lies), he still felt the need to defend you as a crewmate, but the ass whooping you gave the stranger made him freeze in place.

there was blood splatter on your pretty face, deep red sploches of your cute clothes, and a look of pure hatred in your eyes. and you had never looked more beautiful in zoros eyes.

that was the first time zoro had ever smiled at you. sure, he had slightly smirked at your cuter tendencies, but in that moment he was truly smitten with you.

from that day, zoro wanted to train with you. what you lacked that he had in experience, you made up for in absolute cruelty when fighting. you were quick, agile and you weren't afraid to make zoro hurt, and he loved every second of it.

zoro would sometimes smile when he saw bruising on his body from his time training with you but catch himself and go stone faced immediately. no, he was not falling for you, absolutely not.

except he was, and the next time you showed up by his side with a slight limp, some tears in your cotton candy coloured clothes, blood all over you, and a sadistic smile on your face, he would tell you as much.

SANJI♡

sanji is unsurprisingly, enamoured by you the second you join the straw hats.

I'm talking, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, cheesy and constant compliments like "you're cuter than any of your stuffed animals, yn-swan~" and even brushing up on his baking skills to bake you aesthetically pleasing sweet treats that always put a smile on your face.

if I'm being completely honest, it doesn't bother him that he doesn't know exactly what your strengths are, you could be amazing at everything like barbie or you could literally not know night from day and he'd still admire you all the same.

one day, you're wearing bottoms that are on the shorter side not that sanji minds at all and you're out exploring the island you're at with him by your side, holding all your bags because in his words "angels don't do hard labour when he's around" when someone decides to hit on you.

you reject them politely, but when they make a less than appropriate comment about your outfit, you click your tongue and shake your head, readying yourself to hospitalise someone.

sanji's mood switches to one of being happy because he's around you to one of murderous intent the second this rando tries you, but you already have them wheezing on the floor with broken nose before sanji can even lift his leg off of the ground.

you're back to usual self, fixing the bow on your hair while complaining about how fucking hard it is to get blood stains off of your clothes, while sanji is thinking about how fucking hard he is

safe to say that this heartless, terrifying side of you makes sanji fall even harder and question whether or not he's a masochist.

he'll still insist on doing things like carrying you anywhere (most of your shoes you impractical as fuck, but style>functionality always) lifting things for you and treating you like a piece of fine china because that's exactly what you deserve, no matter how badass you are.

only difference is, now he'll never come to aid when it comes to kicking ass, because he enjoys seeing you take people to heaven and back more than anything.

he compliments now range from "omg you are the most adorable, lovable, doll-like angel I've ever seen" to "please punch me, step on me, make my nose bleed, choke me-" and he's now ten times more annoying about you than he was before, which no one thought was possible.

believe me when I say that images of you in frilly outfits with your eyes gleaming like diamonds eveytime you make someone bleed occupy 90% of his thoughts. (the other 10% is all things cooking, of course.)

#opla #one piece x reader #one piece live action #x reader #reader insert #roronoa zoro #zoro live action #zoro x reader #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #sanji live action #sanji x reader #one piece #one piece headcanons

[blockgamepirate]

This is my petty complaint time, this video annoys me SO MUCH and even more so what annoys me is that the latest comment on it is this:

HE TAUGHT YOU SO MUCH BULLSHIT, PLEASE NO, DON'T LISTEN TO HIM

And yes, I've been thinking about this stream for nearly three years now, I've been meaning to go through it to critique Wilbur's arguments, I just never got around to it

Wilbur: "Tubbo, you've created an anti-state capitalist dystopia"

So all Tubbo had explained so far was that his town had a big company that owned two other big companies. Nothing about the government or anything. It's true that one company owning all the major businesses is pretty dystopian, sure, but I have no idea where Wilbur got the "anti-state" thing from, usually capitalist companies are fine with the existence of states, states do a lot of dirty work for the capitalists

Spoiler alert: Tubbo's city turns out to be pretty much a city state so Wilbur is just wrong anyway, not that he ever acknowledges it even when it does come up

Also it's not like corporate acquisitions are completely unheard of in the UK, as far as I know. Admittedly the UK is also arguably a capitalist dystopia but you know what I mean, the concept shouldn't be all that shocking to Wilbur

He's being so dramatic and trying to make it sound like he's caught Tubbo in a mistake or something. He also keeps asking questions and then not letting Tubbo answer properly before taking like one word Tubbo says and running with it

But this is the one that I find the most obnoxious:

T: "I did some research into like economics and stuff and I discovered this thing called UBI, have you heard of it?"

W: "What's it stand for?"

T: "Universal Basic Income"

W: "Yeah, I know about that"

He clearly does not know what UBI is.

It becomes very apparent very quickly:

W: "So you've got universal basic income but then also the rich exist still?"

T: "Yeah! Yeah they do."

W: "How does that come about then,"

T: "So in my mind--"

W: "is this universal basic income different for different people?"

T: "No, no, the universal basic income is better for everyone, just the people who have--"

W: "In order for there to be a 1% that means someone's earning more,"

T: "Yes, someone is earning more"

W: "but that means the universal basic income isn't universal!"

T: "No no no, not everyone's getting paid the same but everyone gets the same to begin with, okay? But then you can build on top of it."

W: "Oh no, you've got a-- Tubbo, you've got a fucking social point system!"

T: "Have I made a social point system??"

W: "Tubbo, you've made China!"

None of what Wilbur says makes ANY sense here. The only explanation I can think of is that he didn't know what UBI was, made an assumption that it just meant "everybody gets paid the same amount of money" or something like that and then just spoke fast enough that Tubbo couldn't correct him

Tubbo is correct here, Tubbo knows what he's talking about, but he can't out-speak Wilbur who is just throwing so much bullshit out of his mouth that there's no time to even respond

So, UBI means that everyone in the society gets a regular payment of a specific amount of money that's the same for everyone regardless of their life situation (and generally a requirement would be that it has to be enough to live on, altho people do like to water this down a lot...) This would be completely irrelevant to your wages or salary or capital gains. You can choose to either live on the UBI or you can just do the regular capitalist things to earn extra money on top of the UBI

Obviously I'm not one of those people who think that UBI would solve all of world's problems, I mean I am an anarchist and all (and not an ancap either), but it's literally just a very streamlined welfare system. That's all. It would probably be a lot better than the current models we have but it's not fundamentally different. There's nothing particularly weird about it, the point is just to make sure that everyone has enough money to live on, in every other regard it's just normal capitalism

Wilbur completely misunderstands the whole thing (because, again, he does not know what UBI is so he's just trying to imagine what it might mean based on what Tubbo is saying) and jumps immediately to something he apparently has heard of, which is the Chinese social credit system, which has nothing to do with UBI. In fact I'm pretty sure it also doesn't actually have anything to do with income either, or at least not directly, so I don't think Wilbur knows what the social credit system is either

He's literally just talking in buzzwords

Like if you actually wanted to make a leftist critique of Tubbo's city, you could, don't get me wrong. But instead Wilbur keeps insisting that he's made a social point system despite Tubbo trying to explain why it's not that at all

Wilbur just keeps yelling over Tubbo until his own chat turns against him and finally Tubbo himself also kinda gives up

And from there Tubbo also kinda just starts playing into the bit and just lets Wilbur direct the whole conversation, the rest of it is just them getting more and more into the roleplay. Wilbur keeps talking about the state pension plan, even though Tubbo already tried to explain that it's part of the UBI (this actually is how UBI is supposed to work, it does indeed streamline most of the welfare spending! Obviously you can still raise questions about that (I can think of a few at least) but Wilbur didn't let Tubbo explain so I have no idea what Tubbo actually had in mind)

I could try to go through all of what Wilbur says here but it's just too much, so maybe some other time. Although to be honest there are so many other streams that I probably should talk about instead that some fans unfortunately took a bit too seriously because they assumed Wilbur knew what he was talking about

My point here is mainly that just because someone sounds really confident and knows a bunch of buzzwords doesn't mean they know what they're talking about.

#wilbur soot #tubbo #this is literally just petty grumbling #not a serious post #altho i do genuinely hope that people reconsider all the things they've 'learned' from wilbur

[lovifie]

The First Morning ☀️

Masterlist — OG Drabble

Boyfriend!Ghost x Chubby!Reader, but they wake up in each other's body.

A.K.A. How Simon would react to waking up in his dear lovie body.

There isn't any freaky accident, no car crash pushing one against the other, no lightning hitting them and melting them together, not a bullet flying hitting the one jumping in front or the other but still going through the both of them. Any of that. 

Simon just got back from deployment, left the guns at the base, told Price he would be back in the morning and went home to you. Took off his boots, took a shower, got into the bed with you, made sweet sweet love to you while cuddling (you being the little spoon) and then fell asleep with you in his arms. 

So there is no reason as to why he can see himself staring back at him from the bathroom door. At first, he thinks he's dead, he got distracted and was unable to outrun the inevitable. But then he realizes he's alive, and he sits up pulling away the covers. He never expected that seeing your naked body would cause him an even remotely negative sensation, but seeing it in first person point of view without further explanation has him jumping off the bed as if that would push him back into his original body. 

“Simon?” A deep voice emerges from his body on the other side of the room, his own voice sounding strange not coming from within himself. He asks your name, weirded out by the higher pitch voice that he manages to get out. 

“I am not dreaming, right? You are seeing your body too, right?” You ask, a bit of shake on your voice so uncharacteristic of the body it is coming out of. 

“No, love. I can also see us in each other body.” He says, leaving a sigh exhale. “C’mere, let's sit down for a second.”

He sits down at the feet of the bed, patting the mattress next to him. He looks at you, and he doesn't have time to say anything before you hit your forehead on the door frame of the bathroom causing you to crouch down grabbing your head. He wonders for a second how you didn't hit it on your way in. 

You whine rubbing your head, and Simon can't help but cringe at the sound leaving his body. “Don't do that…” He says, trying to peel your hands away to check the damage and you whip your head to look at him, brows furrowed offended by his words. “Well, I'm sorry for cracking my head open, Simon.”

He sighs, rubbing his face. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's just fucking weird to see myself like that.” He says, and when he takes his hands away from his face he sees you looking at his chest, well, your original body chest. “It's that how much my boobs move when I talk?” You ask, frankly surprised by the amount of movement.

“Love, I know your boobs are hypnotic, but let's focus.” He says, covering his chest with his hands. You quickly nod, coming back to your senses and stand up, once at your full size you look down at Simon, who is still crouching down staring between your legs. He looks up, a little terrified expression on his face when he makes eye contact with you. He stands up without saying anything, but you have just earned yourself another kind of respect from Simon, because if he had to affront somebody his size while being yours, he would be terrified. 

He looks at the time on his phone and says: “I need to leave in 40 minutes to make it on time at the base.”

“I'll send a message to the office that I need to work from home for a couple of days, it'll be okay.” You answer, picking up your own phone to send said message. 

“Perfect, we both going to the base then. We'll explain everything to the Captain, I don't think he'll be able to help but there is no point in hiding it, it wouldn't work.” He says, opening your closet to find clothes 

“Wait… I'm going to meet your team?” You ask, surprised because Simon has always told you that he didn't want to expose you either to the military or his own team, justifying as it being too risky for your own safety. He sighs turning to look at you and nods. “Yeah, it's not ideal and I would have very much rather introduce you to them with you on your own body but I guess this is how we are doing it now. Get dressed, doll.”

Each of you begins to walk to your closet, only to stop once you reach it and turn around to walk to the other one. Picking up the clothes for Simon is easy, his uniform is always ready just as you open the door. You pick up a pair of knickers from his drawer, and frown when you see there is a hole in it. You pick up another one, only to find the same hole. “Simon.” You call him, getting a hum as a response that he is listening. “Why is all your underwear ripped?”

“What?” He asks, turning around to figure out what you are talking about. When he sees it on your hand, he chuckles before explaining. “That's not ripped, is on purpose, to get your dick out to pee without taking them off.”

There is a beat of silence before you ask. “I beg you pardon?” Simon laughs at your reaction and says. “Put them on, then try what I told you.”

You hold a hand up, letting Simon know to wait and you put the underwear on. You peek through the hole in the underwear and realise it is at the perfect height to get your new dick out. And it is then that you realise: “Wait… I can pee standing up!” You exclaim looking at him like you just discovered a new continent. Simon nods at you smiling softly when he sees you walk to the bathroom. “Watch your head.” You managed to avoid the hit in the last second thanks to him, and raise the toilet lid. 

Simon walks behind you, crossing his arms when he sees you crouching down on the toilet. “What are you doing? Stand up!” He says confused.

“I don't want to pee out!” You say back, still in an awkward position. You hear him chuckle again and then you feel a stinging slap on your ass cheek causing you to move your hips forward away from his hand. “Simon!” 

His hands find their way to your hips and move your hands to his dick to pee inside the toilet. “See? Not so hard right?” He says walking back to wash his hands and face, and then looks back at you when he sees a weird movement on the corner of his eyes. “What are you doing?” 

“Nothing.” You say a bit too quickly and turn around, an obvious half-boner on your crotch. Simon sighs, half laughing at the way you act as if there is nothing wrong.

“Lovie.” He says walking up to him, holding your hands. “I'm gonna need you to keep your mind clear, all right? Nothing nasty is that little head of yours, all right?”

“Simon.” You say, holding back his hands. “I'll try my best… but I can't promise anything.” 

You kiss his forehead, before walking back to the room, barely hitting your head again and walk to your closet. Pulling clothes out for Simon, pitying his own style of clothing and choosing some of your more tame clothes. A pair of straight black jeans, a white undershirt and a grey jersey; Simon shows his gratitude towards your choice with a quick nod before getting dressed. Before he puts the shirt over his head you are quick to throw your bra at him: “Put it on, Simon. I'm not meeting your boss with my nipples saying hi before me.” He groans, as if it was a daily occurrence and you quickly put on the rest of the clothes. 

You turn around when you are ready and chuckle when you hear Simon complain under his breath about the bra stabbing him. He puts the rest of the clothes on and turns to you, checking for your approval and you nod at him smiling. You walk into the bathroom to pick up the brush and come back, sitting on the bed and asking him to step between your legs to brush your hair. 

You do a braid on your hair, keeping the hair from his face and smile at him when he looks at you. He sighs and picks up his mask from his nightstand. “Try it on, alright? If it suffocates you or something, take it off; but if you don't mind I would like it a lot if you keep it on.”

You nod, and help him put it on without twisting an ear. You readjust it and take a couple of deep breaths to test it, you look at him and shroud your shoulder. “Fine for now, I'll tell if I start to feel like I'm dying.” 

You stay looking at each other for a second broken by your voice “We should be a lot more panicked than we are, right?”

“Yeah, probably.” He says resting his hand on your shoulder as yours finds his way to the back of his knees. “But it's still us, so. It's just us, like always.”

Once the both of you are dressed and ready for the day, the both of you walk out to his car. You enter the copilot seat, hitting your head on the way in but starting to get used at this point. Simon enters the driver seat, looking confused when he can’t reach either the pedals or the wheels. He moves the seat to the front, and looks at you: “This is how close you need to move the seat to drive? If you ever get in a crash you are out before you see the other car, love.”

Hi, my lovies! 💗 How was your weekend?

These have been stuck in my head from the moment I uploaded the other part, I don't know if I would do a series but I'm definitely going to write some more parts; what I'm not sure is if all of them will be connected. So if there are any scenarios that would like to read let me know and I will add it! 💗

T-List: @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @kayden666 @thatonepupkai @glocuseguardian3rd @nothankyew @darkangel4121 @dumb12bvtch1212 @risingofjupiter @dukeofjjune @soupinasock

Also, I'm going to tag those of you who seemed to really like the first part just so you get the notif, if you wouldn't like to get tagged let me know as well.

@girlvsghost @fanngirl19 @infpt-zylith @waiting-so-long @justhere2readfics @141slutt @st-el-la-luna

#call of duty #cod #ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod x reader #ghost cod #simon riley #chubby #call of duty headcanons #call of duty imagine #ghost headcanons #simon imagine #ghost imagine #simon ghost imagine #task force 141 #call of duty x reader #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #ghost mw2 #ghost simon riley #ghost riley #ghost x female reader #ghost x y/n #ghost x you

[periprose]

Hi! :)

I’m craving some Logan Howlett angsty fluff and I really like your writing style… Do you think you could maybe do a fic where either Logan and reader are in the heat of the moment and his claws come out and he scratches her. Or where Logan has a nightmare and the same thing happens. Either way the reader ends up comforting him.

Thank you! 🩷 :)

Hi!! So sorry for getting to this so late 🥹 loved the idea btw :) ended up doing a bit of a mix of both? If that makes sense.

/

"Out with it."

Your voice rings out clearly among the X-Men, the throng of battle no longer around you all. It was a more exhausting battle than you would've thought, but nothing irks you more than knowing that Logan has been apparently thinking of you as someone to play babysitter to. He hadn't trusted you to make your final blow to the enemy, and instead scooped you away to safety before lashing out with his own claws.

Logan clearly has something to say to you, and you want to hear it. You're not going to let him escape again- the way he always does, nonchalantly, refusing to acknowledge how he treats you.

Charles stiffens next to you in the helicarrier. Watching the tension, feeling the palpable heart-wrenching sensation between you and Logan. He doesn't know how you got to this point.

"Listen. Just because you didn't have it doesn't mean you're not a good X-Man-" Logan starts dismissively.

"But I did! I did have it!" You shout back at him, and then inhale carefully. "Nobody told you to rescue me, Logan. If I was about to die, then I was. I wanted that to be on my own terms."

"Don't talk like you're a fucking martyr when you've never had the privilege, kid." Logan's unnecessarily harsh tone has you flinching. "Do you know how many people I've seen die, for no good reason? Do you really want a bunch of Pentagon psychos to be your last memory?"

"Shut up." You shift in your seat, feeling small. "We don't get to choose when we die. Not like you."

Logan becomes visibly angered with that, the little taunt you've made towards his immortality. "That doesn't mean you have to go seek it out, dumbass."

"Oh really? Don't tell me you're getting soft, Logan." You glare at him, and Charles and Jean and Scott look at each other uncertainly. "Just because your life is so long doesn't mean the rest of us have forgotten what it means to be alive."

There's an unspoken, sudden charge in the air, now that you've mentioned what everyone else has the good sense to shut up about- Logan having lived so long and not caring about the consequences of his actions. Logan's eyes narrow until you feel sure that you've pushed him too far this time- he looks more animal than human, more Wolverine than ever- and you feel yourself inching forward, letting the anger of not being understood push you to fighting him- and Charles suddenly raises his hand in protest.

"Please, you two. I'm not sure what has transpired today, but I know you are better than choosing to have a physical altercation on a helicarrier flight." His calm, soothing tone makes you feel a little disappointed in yourself, and you settle back in your seat, refusing to meet his or Jean's glances of concern.

/

All you really wanted was an apology. A "Sorry, I won't do that again." Or even an explanation for why Logan keeps tabs on you all the time, never letting you be a real part of the X-Men, always safely on the sidelines. Were you just too weak?

Should you even be here?

You feel guilty for what you said to him. It's not a bad thing, you know, that Logan doesn't want you to get hurt- it's just that you want to do your job. You're not a kid.

It almost, almost justifies how you treated him, but even you know that was too far. You can't act as if you know Logan's life story- not even Charles or Jean would claim to do that, and they've searched his mind for memories several times.

Like it or not, the man was mysterious. He kept to himself on a lot of things, citing past hurt as his reason why- and you should've respected that.

"Maybe I am weak." You mutter to yourself, wondering why you can't restrain your emotions around Logan.

You're practicing shooting small, psionic blasts towards the target in your room- it's a great way to pass the time when you can't sleep- when you hear a groan, a shudder, an angry, deep growl-

It sounds like Logan. His room is right above yours, and the sounds are definitely coming from there- you hear him yell, and before you can stop yourself, you're bounding up the stairs to the third floor of the X-Mansion, bursting through his room's door with a ready hand, in case you need to fight.

/

Logan watches as you berate him in his dream.

Actually, it's not quite you- it's some venomous, evil, witch wearing your face. You giggle at him- you call him old- you don't take him seriously.

With every taunt, you fire another bright purple blast at him- and for once, his body doesn't heal instantaneously. He is getting old, getting hurt, watching as blood pools out of him. It's agonizingly painful.

He's going to die this time, without making it right with you- he's afraid that you're right about him, that he's a washed up sad old man who can't ever let people in.

"We don't need you anymore, Logan..." The not-you whispers softly, smiling a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes, and Logan can't help but believe it.

His self preservation instincts kick in, and he launches forward, snarling, claws out with a sharp snikt sound. He feels that even though he'll regret your death, he'll miss you immensely, it's just one more tally mark to several others.

/

"Logan. Logan!"

You're leaning over Logan's sweaty, clammy body in his bed. You watch as his hands fist in the sheets, and he tosses and turns in agony- you breathe in hesitation, in fear that he's not going to be okay- he grunts suddenly, and you're reminded of how Rogue tells you about his nightmares. They're frequent.

How out of touch could you have been today?

You gently-yet-firmly grab Logan's arm, shaking, and his arms move forward in a self-defense mechanism that seems practiced, as if he's been attacked in his sleep before, and before you can move away, there's a sharp snikt sound, a quick wave of claws, and a searing pain in your side.

It all happens before you can even blink. You fall off to the side, on the floor, writhing in pain. Logan's claws just nicked your side, it's essentially a scratch- but the pain is so much worse than you're expecting, and you fall to the floor again as you try to get up.

You breathe in harshly, holding back a sob, as you feel wet blood pooling through the side of your night dress.

"Jesus Christ." Logan pounces off the bed, waking to blood all over his claws, and he's leaning over your body, as you blink up at him hesitantly. He immediately panics, lifting you up and resting you on his squatted thighs. "Kid! Hey, kid, don't close your eyes-"

"..." You're just barely hanging on, but you listen.

And Logan feels that same sense of shame he felt when he attacked Rogue, when Jean "died", every single time he had accidentally unsheathed his claws towards someone who didn't deserve it.

Doubly so, considering it's like his terrible nightmare has come to life. But you absolutely didn't do anything wrong- he can't believe he was so angry with you.

He calls for help, in a slightly broken tone, and no one seems to be coming.

"Just a scratch." You try, but Logan shakes his head.

"No, no, no." Logan spits out. "How could I- I never meant to-"

"I'm sorry, Logan." You cough, and Logan feels awful that you're apologizing while bleeding out due to his actions. "I shouldn't have said what I said. You're not some unreliable old man who doesn't care..."

You flinch at a sudden, sharp pain, and Logan motions for you to stop talking, but you keep going.

"If anything, you're the opposite. You're there for me. And I'm sorry that I got so... so angry at you for that." You mutter to yourself, not aware of how Logan hangs onto your words. "You're protecting me from making mistakes, and I'm grateful."

"No, kid. You had a point before." Logan interjects, but you shake your head.

"Did I? Or was I being a brat?" You grimace at yourself.

"You did have a point. I was being selfish," Logan shakes his head and then swallows that urge to push you away. "I don't always know how to leave people well enough alone. Sometimes I'm too much."

He hesitates, and then continues on. "Like, I treat you as if you're a nuisance, right? But I always... I always want you next to me. And I know I should just sort my shit out like an adult. But I'm scared."

"Scared?"

"Of what happens. What always happens." Logan sighs in defeat. "I fall in love, and they die. I find my people, and they leave me because I'm such a jackass. There's too much surrounding me that just... ruins everything."

"No, no. I won't leave." You tighten your hand around Logan's, and he, despite wanting to say that you're wounded because of him, believes you. He's so grateful to hear you say it- he had no idea that's what was weighing on him so badly.

He loves you, he knows he does. Logan has never been the best with feelings, but for once, he's glad he was honest.

The first thing Scott sees when he finally makes his way to Logan's room, from all the way across the X-Mansion, is Logan whispering "I'm sorry," and... he thinks (he's not 100% sure), "I love you," to your very forlorn, softly curved-around-him body.

It's a very tender moment, and Scott feels he should leave.

Then Logan presses a firm, shaky kiss on your forehead, and then your lips, and you, with your limited reserve of energy, kiss him back, and then Scott interjects with:

"Hey!...?"

He seems taken aback as you both look at him. "I heard screaming? What is this, some sort of weird cult sacrificial scenario?"

"Logan... had a... nightmare..." You wince, and Scott sees the red on your night gown. "I need... medical attention."

"On it." Scott glances at Logan for permission, and he's currently trying to push all these mushy feelings back into his chest where they belong, and he wants to be there to help you in the clinic, but he's flustered with everything that's happened and he can only hand you to Scott without looking at him.

Scott smirks to himself as he runs you to the clinic of the X-Mansion.

"You and Logan, huh? I knew there was something in that fight today." Scott remarks as you cling to him.

"It's taken an embarrassingly long time for me to figure it out, but yeah." You blush. "Has everyone else...?"

"Jean's been running a bet for the last year." Scott laughs. "She says you both are two sides of the same coin."

You can't help but agree.

#logan x reader #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett angst #logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine #old man logan #wolverine angst #james logan howlett x reader #marvel x reader #xmen x reader #x men x reader #x-men #x-men x reader #x-men angst #ask #requests

[bloodycassian]

Reborn - Reader x Azriel. AN - thank you anon for this great prompt!

Requested - I don't know if your requests are open but I wanted to throw something in just in case.

An Azriel x reader, where AZ and reader have never met before, reader has been tortured and experimented on by the court of nightmares ( Keir ) she could be a shadowsinger, and they're mates, when the reader is in the verge of death for refusing to work with Keir, AZ feels it and begins to grow hectic without knowing the reason,  everyone in the inner court is confused until elain comes out of nowhere and tells everyone that his mate is in danger. ( Vision )

I have this on the back of my mind since reading some of your amazing work and couldn't stop thinking about it.

No amount of masturbation, drinking, or sparring helps the agitation under Azriel’s skin. It’s a constant, burning, itching thing that’s like a fucking disease upon his being. 

Sleep is his only relief, but even then he’s plagued with pain and darkness. It reminds him too much of the dank basement he’d been forced into when he was young, so he stays up. He’s exhausted and brooding and quick to snap at anyone who questions him. He knows he’s being a dick but according to the five healers he’d seen, there was nothing wrong. 

Nothing wrong, just like how his shadows weren’t some kind of magic, according to them. 

He’d refused to believe in healers all that much since the explanation Madja had given him about his diseased pets. The writhing, tentacles of night were a ‘bodily mutation of the highest level, tainted with fae magic’. Tainted. The word felt right for what they were, but that didn’t mean it stung any less. 

“We’ll invade here, and be able to plant our…” There was a beat of silence in Amren’s quick words, then her voice cut through his busybodied task like a knife “Azriel, are you even listening?” 

Truthfully, he hadn’t been. He’d been consumed by the ache again, the broiling sickness beneath his skin that had every muscle flexed in tension. His mind had other battles to fight. 

“What does it matter? You’ll carry out your plan with or without me. Keep talking, make yourself feel important, Amren.” His ill-tempered response came quick and laced with venom. One glance towards the small not-quite-fae female and his mind gave a twinge of regret. 

A lick of her power radiated, filling the room with something vibrant and undeniable. Cassian sucked in a breath, and a word from Rhys had her firey gaze snapping to him instead. “Take your dog from the important business then, High Lord.” Her words were precise, hissed. 

Azriel straightened. The insult didn’t land as well as Amren had wanted, in part because he couldn’t care less, another because the fire under his skin was reaching a peak that he had no idea how he survived every time it came around. He glanced to Rhys, who gave him a nod. Good. Let him free of this cage. 

He flung open the balcony doors with his cursed gift and sprinted off the ledge, launching himself into the summer air. 

+

Rats nibbled at your toes when you slept, scurrying away before you could catch them. Your senses weren’t even close to what they had been months ago. Before, you’d been able to catch at least two a week for extra sustenance. 

You told yourself that they’d learned, that they’d gotten quicker at their biting and fleeing. Truthfully, you could feel your strength waning every day. 

Living was no longer hope, and more of an inconvenience. 

But it was an inconvenience to Kier as well. And that meant you’d keep on living out of spite. 

The next female would appreciate it. 

“Arms up, legs together.” The order came with unnatural casualness that you’d grown used to. If you didn’t follow the orders, you were beaten until you either complied or were unconscious, so complying was really the only option. Especially when you were attempting to stay alive for as long as you could. 

It’s for the next girl. You chanted to yourself when the keeper made the injection. It stung like hundreds of bees attacking the same place, but the pain was familiar. A friend you welcomed before everything went sideways and the nausea rolled in. 

The drug Kier’s men gave was like none you’d experienced outside this cell. An incredible high, with a disastrous low. 

You convulsed on the floor moments later, your body still barely able to take the amount they dosed you with. You’d seen the liquid inside the damn thing grow each week, they were marking your progress with every one of them. So, with each dosing you made sure to put on some dramatics for them. 

The clawing at the throat was false, the sound of your screams only half-forced. The real, unforced reaction though, was always the shade of pallor your skin turned after every injection. The darkness that radiated from you like a bubble, the pain made physical. 

It hovered over your skin like an aura, tendrils of it washing over your forehead when the sweating started. It always started like this, for the first few hours - or possibly minutes, you weren’t sure once you were lost to the pain - they’d observe, and sometimes Kier himself would join, looking like a disappointed mother. Then, once the shaking subsided, and you were able to breathe normally, they’d release a rabbit into your cell. 

The same rabbit almost every damn time. After the first two weeks, you’d grabbed the first one and snapped it’s neck, hoping that Kier would be happy with the accomplishment and you’d earn something. You’d felt awful as it died in your hands, but the pain… if it stopped the pain, you’d kill anything. 

But time after time, they’d send in another rabbit, and though you begged for some kind of explanation of what they wished with the damn thing, they’d only observe. After a few hours of investigating, it’d eventually be removed and you’d wake up alone again.

Kier did not make an appearance today, and after your shaking stopped, neither did a rabbit.

“Where’s dinner?” You croaked, the tears stinging small cuts on your cheeks. Your friend never laughed or spoke, hardly even moved when he was in the vicinity of your cell. It was odd, even for a freak who enjoyed drugging and torturing others.

The male only stared, writing in his little notebook. He could at least humor you and tell you what he was so keenly logging. Some friend.

He opened the door, but instead of the rabbit jumping inside, he stepped forward, past the barrier and wards keeping you from breaking through. Your breathing halted. 

“Your reluctance to learn your gifts has given us no other option.”

+

“Did you lose a fight?” 

Nesta’s words normally bounced and slid right off Azriel, but with how volatile he was feeling, it took all his restraint not to snarl at her.

“Come on Az, where’s that quick wit?” She chided, crossing her legs at the knee beside her sister. 

His eyes drifted to Elain, the warm blush of her cheeks. Her lavender nightshirt made her seem so much more vulnerable than she was. He knew just how lethal the female could be, and admired her for it. His eyes drifted to the soft hair and round features that he’d once dreamt of. How foolish he’d been, how full of hope and bitterness. Now here he was, merely a ghost. A shell for pain to be housed in and nothing more. 

And here he stared at a garden of hope and light. The female who’d haunted his dreams for years. The opposite of the steel bitch that sat beside her. 

A pang of guilt pinched at him. “You’re ridiculous.” Was all he could muster at her. Nesta was trying to help, in her own way, he supposed. She was testing his limits and temper, even while balancing comforting words and attempting to heal her little sister’s mental wounds. Not to mention navigating the strange, untrained gift of Elain’s.

It wasn’t often that Azriel came to the house of wind proper. When he did, he usually confined himself to the dining area and the war room, where the formal dinners and meetings were held. He hadn’t walked the halls into the large internal library in a long, long while. No wonder they both had turned their chairs to face him when he’d cracked the door to find them both here. 

The large windows seemed crowded with the amount of books that surrounded them. The only source of light, aside from the twinkling magic fueled ones above. The room had always made Azriel feel claustrophobic, and now it set him on edge in a way different than it had before. 

Especially when Elain’s eyes bored into his own. His skin felt like it was shifting, pulling and pushing from just beneath. He was beginning to wonder if the healers had somehow missed a parasite of some kind. Something new perhaps, something they’d never seen before.

Elain’s eyes widened, her cheeks going from the pink blush to sickly pale in an instant. Her expression was unfocused, hazy - as if she were drunk. Azriel suddenly felt like he was intruding, like seeing her so vulnerable was something reserved for only those close to her. 

Nesta placed a hand on her shoulder and rubbed her sister’s back comfortingly. It was about as tender as Azriel had ever seen her, even with Cassian. He watched the hands that rubbed the Seer, recalling the intense desire he’d once felt for her. Embarrassment coated his cheeks, distracting him from the physical pain for a moment.

He’d wanted to be that support for her, once. Nesta’s hand seemed to grow in his vision, the embroidered collar of Elain’s nightshirt with it. He blinked rapidly, trying to refocus. The blackness around his eyes did not recede though. His bones ached, and his headache stabbed at him like a branding iron. He rubbed his temple, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“She needs help.” Elain gasped, coughing on a breath. Azriel wavered on his heels, something hard hitting his back, crushing his wings. 

He could barely hear the high strung sound of Elain’s voice. “She needs help, Azriel!”

+

He tore though the court, dragging Kier kicking and frothing with him. He’d received a few severe wounds from the cruel male, but nothing that a few patches of his siphons couldn’t hold together. 

The gushing stab wounds could wait. He had something far more important to tend to.

“You’re a bastard, a low-born inconsequential bastard, Shadowsinger.” Kier coughed as Azriel dragged his broken body with him. The crowd pushed and writhed around them, but his outstretched dagger kept any of the patrons from advancing. Several dark looks, hisses of death closed in around him, but he plowed through them all, working his way to the catacombs behind the stone chair that served as Rhys’s dark throne. 

“I may be a bastard-” Azriel grunted through his pain, now more fevored and intense than before. It was a wonder he’d even been able to make it here, but it did explain his sloppy handling of Kier once he’d found the male. 

“But at least I didn’t sell a daughter off as stock.” He tossed the would-be-king to the locked door of the catacombs, a part of him enjoyed the thunk his head made against the stone floor, even through the intense agony that ripped through him. 

This was not the place to show weakness. If he let his shadows drop, let the air of anything but a cold hearted killer go for even a moment he’d be trampled by the crowd. 

Kier rose slowly, muttering curses while he pulled out a key and slid the door to the side. He sketched a bow, waving Azriel in. Spit landed at Azriels feet as he crossed the threshold, and he hesitated in his step. A hiss rang out behind him, shuffling feet a song as the crowd quickly scooted back. He held his stance there for a moment, collecting the wrath that built in him. It writhed and twisted in his mind, his guts, his teeth throbbing with the urge to tare out Kier’s throat. 

The blistering heat flared again, this time in his jaw and he moved down the hall, towards the cells that an unfortunate assistant to Kier had described. 

He’d made their death quick, painless. 

+

You couldn’t scream, could hardly breathe with the weight that seemed to be growing in your chest. 

Not weight exactly, more like pressure. Internal pressure, like there was lava built up inside you with nowhere to go. And every rattling breath seemed to give it more life. You wheezed, weak with the exhaustion of fighting it. 

Your friend had given you three more of the injections, and promptly left when you began struggling against the binds at your hands and feet. One of them had ripped, you only knew because that was the hand that you’d used to claw at your chest with. 

The blood made going any further too slippery and exhausting.

There were far away sounds, but it all seemed too strange, so disjointed to be real. Screams and sharp clangs of metal, breaking glass and thudding. 

Your eyes slipped closed, and relief washed over you. The pressure eased, and the squeaky hinges of the door opened. Had death finally come? Was this the end of your cycle, and now they were bringing in a new victim to Kier’s experiments? 

There wasn’t much of a goodbye to the world, though. As sad as it was to not be able to see your family again, you were just grateful that the pain was receding. That finally there’d be no injections, no innocent rabbit and certainly no Kier around. 

The sounds were strange, a choking, strangled sound like the first time you’d killed the rabbit. Your eyes cracked open almost involuntarily to see what had happened. 

Outside your cell in a glow of blue light was a winged male, his hand wrist deep inside your friend’s chest. 

+

Blood is hotter than most people think it is. Azriel takes joy in it though, when it’s the blood of the truly vile ones. The male with the syringes and log book reeked of something spiced and foreign, something Azriel’d never encountered before. He would have asked, would have talked to the male if he’d not pulled a knife and threatened to ‘kill her’ as he backed away. 

There were no thoughts after that. And as he fell to the floor, Azriel reveled in the male’s labored breathing. Relief and heat flooded him, prickling him with a soaring joy he’d thought abandoned him long ago. He could laugh, if it weren’t for the absurdity of how it sounded to laugh at this moment.

 He plucked the book from his hands and shoved it into his belt behind him, his chest thrumming with joy.

He’d never been so filled with glee before, so overwhelmed with it after killing… Had he become broken in a sick way? Was he no better than the male he’d just killed? He looked to his hand, twisting it in the low light of his siphons. 

A wet, weak cough echoed off the walls and he spun, knife ready. 

Then the blade was on the floor as he rushed to the bars of the cell door, ripping it free of the rusted hinges. 

The female was gaunt, and frail. Yet his chest sang and though she looked moments from death, he couldn’t imagine more beauty. 

She clutched her chest, the blood there crusted and dry. “Thanks.” She croaked, voice barely a whisper. Shadows mounted around him, enclosing them in complete black. He would have thought he was winnowing if it weren't for the sorry excuse for a bed that stayed beneath her.

Azriel’s lips were moving, but he couldn’t tell what he was saying, even to his own ears. His mind, his body was a rushing river of every emotion at once, all cascading through his mind, to his chest and thrumming in his blood. Her eyes went wide and wild, searching his for a moment. His heart thundered in his ears.

What had his life been until now? Why was this moment such a climax to him so suddenly? All of it, the pain the agony, the stark moments of joy against it all - the brief moments of shared happiness that made it all worth it tore through his body like a flash floor. 

Tears pricked his eyes, and it was a curious thing to see them fall onto her neck and wash away the blood there. 

Then, a wet sigh from her lips, and her eyes stopped searching his. The rush of joy and sense of sanctuary ceased. His blood went quiet in his ears, and the room felt suddenly cold. The room silent around him, not even his shadows dared whisper.

His fingers hesitated over her cheek. When her next breath did not come, he shook her gently. Her eyes remained, staring blankly at the ceiling. 

This was truly a tomb now. 

“No…” He heard his own words that time. The word clattered through the cell like a bell tolling, echoing.

“Take her back.” A shadow hissed over his ear, caressing. 

He shook her again, the tears boiling over now, panic gripping him. 

“We know how.” another said. This voice was different, the same whispered tone and suggestion, but this was not one of his pets. He sent his own shadows skittering away, and a group of them stayed, unbound to him and unmoving from the cell. His heart skipped, fear upon fear pulling him into the icy abyss of despair. 

His own shadows returned, a broken syringe floating to him on their behest. They mingled with the others, reveling and dancing together though Azriel felt that he was slowly sinking.

“What am I supposed to do with this?!” He shouted at them, at nothing. He had truly lost his mind, hadn’t he?

“Save her.” The strange shadows told him. Just like Elain had said, overtaken by her visions.

 A tendril of the foreign shadow wrapped around his hand, locking the glass pieces there and slicing into his palm. The needle aimed directly to her chest, between the ribs, only a few inches from the heart. 

And what did he have to lose? The silence that surrounded him now was almost worse than the pain had been. Wouldn't pain at least be better than complete nothingness? To feel completely blank and unwritten as a being?

With a breath, and a part of his siphon’s power to support the broken syringe, he pushed into her skin. His own blood dribbled down the sides, mixing with hers. Through and through - until he knew that he’d met the same depth of a killing blow to an opponent’s heart. 

+

“Side, block, strike.” Cassian’s orders came out in demanding, practiced tones. Each step, each swipe of your blade met with one of Azriel’s shadows as a shield. 

His were still much, much stronger than yours, even after months of practice with them. Even with him showing you very intimately just how much they were capable of. Your cheeks blushed at the reminder of that. 

“No distractions, keep that shadow talk in the bedroom, Az.” Cassian scolded.

A smirk played at your mate’s face, and he hit you with a surprise swipe at your feet, left unprotected by your own shadows. 

You fell on your ass, cursing. 

Azriel offered a hand, panting at the exertion the sparring had taken. You were proud of that, at least. 

The first six months of training had been dedicated to building stamina, gaining back weight and muscle while balancing training your shadows to obey you. Six months ago, being able to spar with your mate had seemed like a far off dream that you’d never be capable of doing. 

But with his training, and Cassian’s encouragement, you were almost able to take him on stride for stride. Almost. 

So, you took his hand and pulled him towards you for a kiss. Then knocked his knees out from behind with a wave of your own shadows.

You smirked, and offered him a hand while Cassian boomed with laughter.

He allowed you to help him up, but cleaned in close, pecking a kiss on your cheek. 

“You’ll pay for that later.” He said in an intimate tone. A lick of his shadow wrapped around your thigh, snaking upwards. 

“Promise?” Your eyes sparkled at him, and the pain all those months ago had been worth it for this. 

#azriel x reader #reader x azriel #acotar fic #azriel shadowsinger #shadowsinger #reader insert

[murdrdocs]

tbh i think we moved on from venom!luke way too quickly. spiderman!luke this spiderman!luke that he would destroy anyone who even looked at his girl the wrong way.

implied murder; dark!luke; venom!luke; blood mentioned, explicit sexual content; MDNI

he crashes into your apartment through the window, landing right on the dirtied and bloodied rug you brought just to soften the blows of his falls. your headphones are knocked off of your head and your laptop is closed as you approach him, your hands already outreached and your eyes searching for the newest bruise of the night. he's wearing a different suit, completely blacked out as compared to the usual primary colors you got used to seeing him in.

the dark color hides any blood you could have seen, so you resort to touching, trying to feel both the invisible zipper you helped him install and any liquid that shouldn't have been there. you find both quicker than you anticipate, but when you glide the zipper of luke's suit down and peel the material away from his skin, he looks perfect. there's nothing wrong, save for a few scrapes on his face.

but the blood on your hands is too much for him to be fine.

"luke?" you ask him, alarm bells ringing in your head when his bare hands cup your cheeks and they're warm and wet, just like the blood coating your hands.

he looks at you, and he looks off. there's something not right, something missing in his gaze.

maybe you would have been able to question him if he hadn't pressed his lips to yours. if he hadn't stood and took you with him. if he hadn't slotted his hands at the back of your thighs and lifted you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bed.

you should feel a little ashamed about how quick you are to let your worries sit agitatedly on the back burner while you let luke please you. the blood he rubbed all along your body should have concerned you, you should have been more worried about it. you should have pressed him on the subject instead of taking his curt, "it's not mine, don't worry about it" as enough explanation while he lined himself up with your entrance.

just the smallest concern rises whenever he's fucking you with long, slow, searching thrusts, his lips right by your ear as he tells you, "you don't have to worry about anything anymore." but his words were so sweet, so reassuring, and his thrusts were so beautiful and magnetic, pulling you closer to him even whenever he pulled out.

"no one's gonna bother you again, okay? i made sure of that, angel."

the implications of his words don't make sense until a little far into the future. after the blood has been rinsed from your skin, the sun has risen again, and a nuisance on the corner of the street is gone from his post, disappeared into the night at the hands of forces which you refuse to truly acknowledge, even as you crawl back into it's arms later that evening.

#lukesworld! #venom!luke #spiderman!luke #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan smut #celeste writes pjo

[thehighladywrites]

The Airhead Chronicles

… and the explanation

-> pairing: cassian x bimbo/ditzy reader, nesta archeron, feyre archeron

-> summary: You meet the third Archeron sister, what could she possibly want? Secret and past relationships get discussed

-> warnings: light angst, I had to vilify Nesta, even tho I adore her. Feyre is just fucking hot in this, cuddling, hurt to comfort, reader getting flashbacks/thoughts about her old life, cassian protecting his mate, oh and giving him a blowjob so nsfw lol, also reader is fucked.

-> amara’s note: sorry for the wait, i changed the plot like a million times. seriously, there are versions with super angst, versions where nesta poisons cassian and brainwashes him, there are just crazy plots but i hope you like this one💗💗 also this is probably the final chapter bc i have nothing else left. there will be one vacation chapter later and that’s it💗💗 soon i’ll be posting nerd azriel x bimbo reader, stay tuned👀👀

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

“Cassie, baby, who is she?”

Anger filled cassian at the vulnerability in your voice. How dared Nesta speak to you like that? In his anger, he hadn’t realized that he had flinched away from your touch. Looking down at you, his hardened eyes softened.

You looked up at him with a worried expression, eyes filled with fear. He realized what this looked like and hurried himself to explain.

“She’s Feyre and Elain’s sister.”

Nesta’s scoff echoed through his chambers as she stalked closer, keeping eye contact with him. You hadn’t even realized what she was wearing, she was dressed in a very short night gown and robe.

Wait, was she in here for Cassian?

No, Feyre and Rhys told you that Nesta wasn’t present at dinner today but she was aware of the two of you.

This isn’t making any sense, maybe she’s confused. Because no one goes after a mated fae, right? Yes, that’s it! She must be confused.

She had to be fucking confused because you really didn’t like how close she was standing to him.

Stepping forward you gave her a sickly sweet smile,

“You’re like really pretty, I can tell you’re their sister but you’re too close to my mate. Back off.”

Nesta looked at you bewildered,

“Excuse you? I'm merely talking to him. Are you not allowed friends, Cassian? Don't you find that a tad controlling?” she delivered with a mix of disdain and sharp sarcasm, her words cutting through the air like a blade.

She stepped closer to you and you had never seen so much hate in a persons eye.

“And who do you think you are? I’ve known him for several years, so if I want a moment to talk to him then it’s what I shall have.”

You smiled at her ready to punch her,

“You’re dressed like a slut in his room. I mean there’s nothing wrong with it, we all should embrace our inner sluts but just not with my mate, okay? Either back off or I’ll make you back off and that’s just a hassle. I mean, I just got these nails and my outfit is too cute for blood!”

Before she could step closer, Cassian grabbed your arm and pulled you back as he kept an unreadable face towards Nesta.

“Give us a moment.”

Your stomach dropped as you caught her secret smile. Why did they need to be alone? Had you done something? Oh Gods would he go back to her now? He wouldn’t do that right?

Flashbacks from your past came back, men would have their fun and then leave you. It was a big insecurity you had and you just hoped it wasn’t like that.

“But-”

“One moment.”

His firm words made your throat close up, you always got emotional when someone raised your voice at you, so to save face, you ripped your arm out of his grip, not once looking back as you hurried out of his room ready to leave.

—

Cassian’s pov:

As the doors closed, Cassian glanced back at the door with nausea as he heard your sobs. In that moment, he wished he could be closer to you. The safety he felt with you was incomparable to anyone else. The need to comfort you was taking over.

“She is as stupid as a bag of rocks. You’ve seriously mated with her?”

Cassian's head whipped towards Nesta, anger simmering in his eyes. He couldn't stand her condescending tone and the comment that belittled you.

Cassian's voice was firm and filled with a lethal edge as he addressed Nesta,

“I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re doing, but you need to leave. I don’t care what you think we had, if you ever speak to my mate like that again, I’ll kill you.”

His words were clipped as he practically spit them at her. Nesta still not grasping his rage and annoyence, started pulling on the strings of her robe, trying to undress.

“Please, you know you would be happier and more satisfied with me. Don’t you remember the times you took me like some rabid beast in bed? You can’t honestly tell me you don’t miss me.”

She got closer and closer, but before she could touch his body, he grabbed her forearm.

Cassian maintained a strong grip on her, pulling her closer. His voice was unwavering, “As I said, you insulted my mate and you’re directly ignoring what I’m saying. I don’t miss you in the slightest, Nesta. I’m finally happy, and I feel sorry that you must resort to this.”

She pulled her arm back roughly and again scoffed,

“Love always made you disgustingly weak.”

Cassian chuckled, “Loving you sure did. But with her, it has made me stronger than ever. It's a pity you don't understand that strength.”

He pivoted and stared out the window as he delivered his last words to her.

“Even if she wasn’t my mate, it would have never been us. So, don’t ever disrespect her like this again. And if I find out you’ve said anything else to or about her, there would be no one in this world stopping me from getting you.”

His words were casual and promising as if he wasn’t talking about literally murdering her for even speaking ill to you.

——

You tried not to cry, but being the sensitive soul you were, tears just couldn't resist. Ugh, talk about embarrassing! How on earth were you supposed to face that girl again? And when you replayed his tone in your head, the waterworks just cranked up a notch.

Trying to find your way through Rhysand's massive mansion, you got easily distracted. Oh, look, a beautiful painting! You gazed up at the massive artwork that covered most of the wall. It showed a life-sized scene with Rhysand, Feyre, Elain, Amren, Mor, Azriel, and—hold on—Nesta and Cassian sitting very close. Wait, no, she was sitting on top of him. What the fuck? Were they a thing before you? Why didn't he tell you? He just casually mentioned she was the third Archeron sister, conveniently skipping the whole history chapter.

Great. The male you mated with was just like every lying piece of shit out there. You rolled your eyes at the situation, irritated that you once again realized that males only wanted one thing from you and after they were done, moved on to another. You couldn’t lie, it really stung, especially with the bond but you’d survive.

“I was supposed to throw that away tomorrow.”

Feyre's gentle voice reached your ears, prompting you to lift your head in her direction. With a sorrowful expression, you acknowledged her, doing your best to hold back tears.

Feyre had been a true friend; you had loved her from the moment Rhysand introduced her to you. She was incredibly funny, offered great advice, and was the perfect companion for gossip. Many times, you had found solace in her arms when someone broke your heart, and you knew that if she asked how you felt now, tears would be inevitable.

“Oh, hi Fey. Is this a secret painting or something?”

She gave you her signature soft smile, moving closer as she looked at her painting.

“No, honey, not secret. Old. This was something I painted a few years ago. And it is not needed anymore, so I was getting rid of it since no one wanted the reminder up.”

“Be honest Fey, were they a couple?”

She looked hesitant to answer but sighed and explained,

“They thought they were mates. They were together, yes, but there was a lot of miscommunication and fights. Nesta became very closed off and wanted nothing to do with Cassian after a while. They broke up, and it became a big shift in our family. Now she lives in her own apartment, and we barely see her. Every night we invite her for dinner, but she doesn’t even bother declining; she just doesn’t come.”

Your brain just focused on the fact that they were almost mates. And now she was upstairs in a closed room with your real mate. What the hell was she doing here if she deliberately declined every dinner Feyre invited her to?

“Well, surprise, she’s here. Yeah, that’s right, she’s upstairs talking to him right now.”

“Wait, what? She’s here? What is she doing with Cassian? She said she never wanted to be around him ever again.”

You felt nauseous. She was trying to win him back. Your man, she was wanting YOUR man now that he was locked up and unavailable.

Feyre’s muffled words pulled you out of your thoughts as you asked her to repeat herself, too busy in your own mind to hear her the first time.

“I said let’s go up to them. What could they possibly be talking about that you don’t need to hear? Let’s go.”

She grabbed your hand, and you could tell she was totally pissed off. You smiled a little to yourself. Maybe you didn’t even need to say anything after all.

You climbed up the stairs as your heels clicked against every step. Ugh, you really needed a few inches off.

You froze at the thought. Had you really reached rock bottom? Shaking your head at the rash thought you kept climbing. You’d rather fucking die than not use your many, many heels.

The door opened up, and both of you stopped in your tracks. Nesta stepped out of the room and looked between you and Feyre before her lips twitched in a cruel smile. She pulled her robe tighter and glanced back into the room, fixing her hair as she shoved right past you, all while smiling and hitting both of your shoulders.

You felt like time stopped. Your stomach dropped, and your throat closed up. Honestly, you didn’t know who to confront first – the homewrecking bitch or the cheating bastard.

There was no missing her insinuation. Come on, you saw what she wore under her robe – a piece of lace and nothing more. And now she was pulling it tighter to her? Yeah right, they totally fucked.

Okay, the cheating bastard it was since Feyre turned around and grabbed Nesta’s arm, pushing her into the wall.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? You ignore my invitations, and now you’re back in Cassian’s room? To what? To show him how distasteful you are? Why, in the Mother’s name, would you go inside, dressed like this when you know he has a mate? I thought you, of all people, would know more about class, Nesta.”

Nesta looks you dead in the eyes as she just smiles again and shrugs Feyre off.

“He will come back to me eventually. Cassian knows where his true feelings lie.”

“I’ve never called another girl a bitch, because that’s like so weird but you’re the biggest, grade A bitch i’ve met in my life. I’m mated to him, not you. And keep one eye open, because I will so kick your ass when you least expect it.”

You had an acrylic nail pointing to her. You also give her an annoyed look before turning around, leaving her with Feyre as you open up the room to see Cassian looking out the window.

“Please, tell me she didn’t do what I think she did. Because I will actually kill you both.”

Cassian turned around with a tired expression and stepped forward before picking you up with one arm and bringing you to the foot of his bed. He began undressing, leathers and siphons discarded on a nearby table. He pulled you closer and began undressing you too which put a crease in your brow.

“I love getting fucked but sex isn’t the answer, Cassie. I don’t like feeling left out, so just explain.”

He looked at you with soft eyes before kissing your forehead and lifting you up again. He strode to the other side of the bed before gently putting you down and sliding underneath the sheets. He pulled you impossibly closer until you were almost on top of him with your head on his chest and took a breather before explaining.

“She tried to undress and then get me back, but I made it clear that it wasn't something I wanted. It's a really long story, but Nesta used to be closed off, pushing people away to shield herself from getting hurt. After facing a lot of challenges, we got together, but we just weren't a good fit. We clashed a lot, and she eventually reverted to her old ways. The breakup was messy, but honestly, we're both better off without each other.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened. Sympathy and pain for them surged within you, yet a selfish relief that you still had him to yourself.

“Tonight, she panicked when she saw you. I said no, asked her to leave, but then she tried to undress. I firmly kicked her out. I'm sorry for dismissing you like that, sweetheart. I know her well, and she might have said something to you. I don't think I could have held back if she did.”

Oh, that explains why she was fixing her robe! Phew, the sight nearly made you sick.

While you briefly considered telling Cassian about Nesta's earlier words about where his feelings lie, you decided to leave it at that. You're definitely planning to kick her ass someday, just not right now. Your current priority is to snuggle up to your Cassie and comfort him.

A sweet kiss and blowjob, just as you promised, seems like the perfect remedy to make everything better.

You shift your head and look up at his tired face.

Maybe just the kiss today, you decide. He looked very tired and-

“A blowjob sounds mighty fine, sweet girl.”

Your eyes widen a bit as your cheeks heat at his words. You then remember that he knew what you were thinking because of the bond. He could be really forward sometimes, your perfect match.

“I was just thinking of giving you one but you seem really, really tired, Cassie. Ya still want one from me?”

He shifted, grabbing your hips before sitting you upright on his lap so that you straddled his lying body.

“Sugar, I’ll take anything you have to offer me.”

He let out a deep chuckle at the way your face lit up with a smile as you let out a shriek of excitement.

Your hands eagerly tore the blanket away, shifting down to get eye-level with his cock.

“This is all mine, no one in the whole world will ever get it, ever. Just mine.”

Cassian raised himself onto his elbows, gazing at you before offering reassurance,

"Only yours, sweet one. Forever."

You smile at him before you wrap your plush lips around his leaking tip, humming when he groans in pleasure.

Your entire body heats at his needy sounds. There was nothing you loved than making Cassian feel good. His hisses and little ‘ fuck, right there baby’ was filling you up with pride and was really giving you an ego boost. It was you making him feel like this, you who he loved more than anything.

The thought alone made your pussy wet. The scary 6’7 general of The Night Court, one of the most feared and skilled warriors in history was nothing more than a babbling mess infront of you.

Cassian lets you take your time, allowing you to get used to his size. He lets you take control even though all he wants to do is bury his cock deep in you. So when you run your tongue into his slit, his hips jerk and his cock hits the back of your throat, making you gag on him.

“There’s my girl, so fucking perfect for me. Can you take me all the way, baby?”

You nod and take him deeper before you swallow, making your throat contract around his whole lenght. He gasps then pulls out with a pop, looking at you bewildered. You however just stared at him irritated, huffing at the disruption.

“Cassie, I wasn’t done! Why did you pull out, I almost had you,” you whine at him.

“Exactly. And we’re not done yet. I plan on fucking you until you can’t think straight.”

Cassian pulled you closer, putting a fat kiss on your lips before getting on top of you and fulfilling his promise to you.

He fucked you so hard, you passed out from the intensity. You had cum over and over again, time not registering in your brain.

As you sat together, the atmosphere turned sweet, and you found solace in the connection. All you knew was the comfort of his being, engulfing you.

—

You both lay there exhausted, wrapped in each other's arms, the once turbulent bond now a tranquil river of love and understanding.

“You wanna tell me about your shopping trip yesterday, sweets?” he asked, eager to hear your voice light up with excitement as you shared details about your latest fashion finds. Your ability to bring a sense of peace and light with the simplest conversations made Cassian feel an unmatched warmth. He knew he'd never love anyone as deeply as he loved you.

Throughout the night and into the next morning, you talked about everything under the sun. You even took a moment to explore his old room, running your fingers over his old possessions and playfully trying on his oversized leathers. The connection between you two felt stronger than ever, a testament to the depth of your bond.

Again, he thought about how there was no one he would ever love as much as he loved you.

Cassian was in deep, deep water and he wasn’t planning on ever getting out.

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[whatsaninterestingplacethisis]

Lovers

Imagine

Mat Barzal x Latina!reader

Synop: y/n locks eyes with a stranger one night and it leads to uncertain 'relationship' between the two; a one night stand leads to too many nights.

a/n: no smut but very suggestive, y/n is emotionaly unavaliable 😪, in a way i replace the smut with humor bc i think im funny 😔 angst + fluff, black cat reader x sunshine Matt in a sense ? Im indifferent w this work >:/

cw: mentions of drinking, cussing, suggestiveness

+

That stupid little red dress. The one you kept pulling down as it hiked up every step you took. That's what the oversized black leather jacket was for; to save the hassle but it didn't do much besides keeping you warm.

That same little red dress is on your bedroom floor, alongside with your black boots and his jeans with the belt still looped in them.

You locked eyes with him that same night in that crowded bar. You would never take him home but they way your makeup held that night and how the dress fitted you, it gave you confidence to do so.

It was difficult to fall asleep right after, the adrenaline had warm your body, too hot to sleep. But after some cooling down and examining his sharp facial features, you fell into a slumber.

+

With a well rested sleep, especially after that night, you woke up early. Fortunately so, you had plans with some friends late morning. You showered and thought of how to remove the man in your bed.

After getting dressed and putting your dress in the hamper, you picked up his discarded clothes from last night and messily folded them and chucked them at his bare back.

"Wakey wakey, no bakey." you sarcastically said in a loud enough voice to wake the nameless stranger. You were sure he had told you his name but had forgotten.

The nameless stranger stirred and moaned as he flipped over under the sheets. He rubbed his eyes trying to focus on your dressed self at the foot of the bed. You could see a smirk creep on his face as he realized what happened last night.

"Get dressed." you demand in a softer voice this time. You made your way to your side of the bed and started to make the bed, prompting him to actually move and get dressed.

"Jeez, no good morning or-" he finally sat up and started to put on his boxers,

"No. I have plans and can't have a stranger in my house." You walked around to start to make his side of your bed.

He stood up towering over you, "you did last night." he said with another smirk of his, his chest was bare and he messed with his belt buckle.

"Not alone in my house." you tilted up to look at him, moving him out of the way with your hips, folding the sheets back over.

You grabbed his shirt and pushed him with it towards the front door,

"I would like to see you again." he said as he quickly slid his shirt over his head,

You laughed, "I'm sure you would, bye bye." you closed and locked the door after him and continued to get ready.

+

The next weeknight you were relaxing after work, eating dinner on the couch watching some tv. As soon as you placed your bowl down, you heard soft knocks at your door.

You looked through the peephole and your eyes widened as you saw the same face of the guy who was in your sheets a few days ago.

You opened the door ajar, "What the hell are you doing here?" your eyebrows furrowed together.

"I wasn't joking when I said I wouldn't mind seeing you again." He stood with his hands in the pocket of his sweatshirt.

"Maybe you don't understand the concept of a one night stand but it usually happens only one night."

He laughed at your explanation, "I know what we did. I'm just saying if you don't mind, we can hang out again."

"I don't want to be in a relationship or even date for that matter." you opened the door more as to where the conversation was going.

"Neither do I." he stated to your surprise.

"Are you implying to be fuck buddies?" you whispered the term as you two were having the conversation in a public hallway.

He struggled to hold back a laugh, "In a few words, yes."

"Okay." you relaxed against the door,

"Okay?" he questioned not understanding your answer,

"Yeah, sure." you agreed to the relation.

"Cool, we should share numbers then." he pulled out his phone and passed it to you. The new contact page had your name typed out in the right box.

"You remember my name?" you looked up at him after typing your number in.

"Yeah, what you don't remember mine?" he joked expecting a laugh but you still couldn't remember his name. He saw the slight worry in your eyes and smiled,

"It's Mat." you passed his phone back and he saved the contact,

"Sorry," you said sheepishly.

"No worries." he said as if he had been embarrassed too. But he kept standing there.

"Do you want to- tonight?" you asked indifferent of his intentions when coming over to your place.

"I mean I wasn't expecting it on my drive over here but I'm down..." he leaned forward onto the doorway.

With his face inches way from yours, you leaned forward, caressing his loose hair strands,

"I'm not. I'm on my period, so goodnight Mat." you pulled away from the tension and slightly pushed his chest away.

“Wait. We could still hang, watch a movie or something.” he tried to negotiate but failed,

"Yeah, no. Text me in a week and I should be free, goodnight." you quickly closed the door before he could speak anymore.

+

Mat had given you a full week to meet up again and it was awkward at first on your behalf. The first night with him after the bar really only happened with the help of alcohol but to plan accordingly sober was very different.

He called you, not texted, and gave you the option to see him at his place or yours. You told him yours to lessen the anxiety.

It was silly you thought. Panicking over sleeping with a guy who had already seen you naked. It was probably the fact that he wanted to see you again in that state that made you overthink so much.

But at the end of the night he came, he also came to your place.

And it became a system. He called to see you. You texted to see him. It went on for months of pure sex. Nothing else as you pledged the second time you saw him. But there were moments were he broke his pledge. Moments where he was becoming more of a friend than a fuck buddy.

I.

When he had time the mornings after he was generous to cook you breakfast,

"Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey" he mocked you from the first morning. He brought you a plate of a simple but nutritional breakfast and a glass of orange juice to his bed.

You groaned to be woken up but loved the smell of food in the morning, "Is this all for me?" you asked half asleep, reaching for the fork but he pulled the plate away,

"No, actually it's just for me. Your plate is in the kitchen." he deadpanned. Still half asleep you slowly blinked at what he said.

"I'm just kidding," he passed you the fork, "Just a joke because of your lack of hospitality from the first night." you noted he wasn't going to let that go for a while.

"I said I was sorry but that night was different from what we have now." you said before taking a bite of your food.

"I know. It's just fun teasing you." he said softly as he watched you eating his food.

This was from the first weeks. You had kept some walls up because from your standpoint it was all and only sex. But something about Mat forced you to open with him. With a smooth transition, the two of you became friends with benefits from fuck buddies.

II.

Mat found it easy to let your walls down by making you laugh but in other words he teased you, so he laughed at you but it all good and fun when you teased him back.

From the very beginning Mat favored talking over the phone rather than text. For your relationship, texting seemed easier and more practical because you didn't mind him just sending 'are you free?' and that be a sign that he wanted to come over. But no, for him he always wanted to have a long conversation about whatever and end the call with, "okay I'll be on my way soon."

And you always obliged, when you texted first he wouldn't text back but immediately call. So one night you decided to ignore his calls and just text him. You knew it would annoy him so even better for a small joke to play.

y/n

hey are you free after practice?

mat

Missed call

y/n

i can't talk right now

mat

Missed call

y/n

so are you free or not?

mat

Missed call

y/n

i guess not

mat

Why are you not answering my calls??

y/n

I just told you.

mat

Incoming call

After you laughed at your own entertainment you finally answered his call, contradicting what you had said.

"I thought you couldn't talk right now." he said through a grin, knowing you were lying.

"I didn't want to talk but you always want to." you admitted

"That's because I like hearing your voice. Although I can hear the sas in your texts just as fine."

"So are you free or not?" you had to get to business before he asked you more questions-

"How was your day?" he asked like always.

You rolled your eyes, "It was fine. Are you free?"

"Mine was pretty good too. Practice went great actually, thanks for asking." he said very sarcastically.

"Mat.'

"Yes?" he said too cheerful

"Are you free?"

"Like right now? Or in a couple of hours. I'm still kind of sweaty. Unless you like that type of stuff-"

Without hesitation you ended the call. Not that you were mad, just a bit annoyed but you knew it would make Mat desperate leaving him high and dry.

mat

Missed call

You kept declining his incoming calls and didn't bother to text because if he did want to see you tonight he would eventually text.

mat

I'll be there in an hour

y/n

:)

+

III.

A different morning you felt him twirling your hair in his hands,

"What are you doing?" you muttered into his cold sheets

"Trying to braid your hair." he whispered back, fully focused on trying to figure out a pattern.

"Don't. You'll just knot it even more." He didn't give up until a minute later because he was in fact knotting your hair.

You turned around after you felt his hands drop,

"Can you teach me?" he asked

"Youtube it." you whispered with your eyes closed

"I'll learn quicker from you." you felt his hands lightly touch your cheek making you lock eyes with him.

You quickly maneuvered to pull him in by the back of his neck. He smirked awaiting for a kiss, but you pulled his shaggy hair causing him to squeal,

"Ow?! that hurt." his eyes turned sad with his pouted lips,

"I just wanted to see how long your hair is. Not long enough to braid." you massaged the back of his head to soothe the pain.

You sat up straight and pulled your hair forward to slowly teach him a three strand braid. After a what felt like forever he kind of got it.

IV.

Overtime Mat broke your walls completely and you enjoyed every second talking and being with him but there were moments that brought you back to reality. The reality of what the relationship was.

It was Valentines day and you hadn't thought anything major about it. Mat would be busy that night like he mentioned before so you would spend it alone.

If he was free he would spend the night like always but you thought it would be weird to buy him something because you're only friends as you reminded yourself many times. You didn't expect anything from him either.

But he took you by surprise by showing up at your door with a huge bouquet of roses and your favorite chocolate.

"What are those?" you asked baffled from your door

"Rosses and chocolate obviously." he said with a smile

"I thought you said you were busy tonight." you still couldn't believe he actually got you something.

"I lied. I wanted to surprise you."

"Well I'm surprised!" you finally moved to let him in, taking the abnormally large bouquet of flowers to place them on your table,

"I didn't get you anything." you admitted waiting to see his disappointment,

"That's fine. I assumed you expected nothing but I still wanted to get you something. Being with you tonight is enough." he walked towards you and kissed you. It was a different kind of kiss than all the ones you shared before. This one felt genuine and not of lust. It was slow and as he deepened the kiss he was careful to not be so rough.

You felt your heart twang and your stomach fill with anxiety like from the very first nights. Even though you reciprocated with every motion in your body, you pushed him away. You stared up at him questioning everything that had happened to lead up to this moment,

"I'll make it up to you," you tried to change your train of thought.

"How?" he had that smirk on his face again

"Don't act dumb." you began to push him towards your bedroom,

"Wait, what about your chocolate?" as if he cared about the damn chocoalte.

"We can eat it after."

You had to change the scenery quickly to avoid those thoughts. You tried to excuse his behavior as him being nice but you knew too well it was more than that.

"Here's your chocolate, my sweets," he bowed to you in your bed. He had never used an endearing nickname before but you let it slide like all the other things.

"Thanks," he climbed back into your bed taking a piece for himself,

"So I was thinking," he said while chewing,

"Oh that's not good." you joked,

"Ha ha" he sarcastically laughed, "You should come to one of my games. I can get you a good view and maybe you'll like it."

You swiftly gasped almost choking on your chocolate, "Me at your game?"

"That is what I said, yes." he cleaned some chocolate off your lips with his thumb, catching you off guard.

"Okay, sounds fun I guess." you said with very clear uncertainty.

"Doesn't sound like fun,” he laughed at your nerves but reassured you, "I want you to see me play in person, it's only one game. And if you don't like it or we lose miserably I'll make it up to you."

"How will you make it up to me?" you smirked to yourself,

"Don't act dumb." he whispered into your ear, kissing your cheek and neck making you squirm.

Moments like these, filled with bliss made you forget all your worries. But the hours before the actual game, your nerves sank back in.

You dressed accordingly and sat in the stands trying to follow the game. Seeing Mat distinguished by his number felt surreal almost. It was a side of Mat you didn’t indulge in often or at all.

He talked about hockey every now and then but it was very brief. To see him skate as fast as he could was shocking. To see him get slammed into the boards was more than shocking but concerning.

You were alone in your seat. Trying to follow the quick pace game. Looking around at the fans with his jersey number. You felt like an outsider even though the player himself had invited you to be there.

When the game ended and the Islanders had won you weren’t bored. You were glad you saw Mat play in person and see the team win. Mat gave you instructions where to meet him after the game.

After some wrong turns and almost giving up trying to find the locker room, you found a sweaty Matt walking in the halls,

“Hey you made it!” he jogged up to you for a quick hug and a quick kiss. Another action of Matt that surprised you. The two of you never kissed in public.

“I want you to meet some of my teammates.” His body radiated of excitement and giddiness.

“Sure,” you agreed with fake excitement. You were definitely not expecting such socialization with Matt’s close friends.

He introduced you to his teammates as a ‘good friend’ with an arm wrapped around you the whole time. The whole situation was nauseating. His teammates were kind but the whole thing was very confusing; as to what this introduction was or what you and Matt were.

You were able to end the introductions early when you told Matt you didn’t feel good, which wasn’t that far off from the truth,

“Are you okay to drive home?” he asked

“Yeah I’m just have a bad headache.”

“Okay I’ll see you tonight then?” Matt had planned to be with you after the game but you felt it would be better to have some time alone,

“Actually I think I’ll go asleep alone tonight. I’m just worn out.” you tried your best to lie and it barely worked.

“Okay I’ll call tomorrow.” You hum in agreement before almost running out of that arena.

On the drive home you felt your heart beat faster than you ever felt before. Things were getting too real you said to yourself in the car.

You and Matt had promised since the very beginning that this wouldn’t be anything more. But that promise had long been broken. You knew things had to slow down or stop completely, but only one of those options were possible.

+

You thought it would be best to see him at his place rather than your own. So you called him,

“Y/n calling me? It can’t be.” He joked

“Mat can I see you later tonight?” You asked in all seriousness ignoring his joke,

“You know you can y/n.”

“Great I’ll see you later.” You kept the call short, ignoring his calls right after.

When he opened his door for you, he cradled your face and smothered you with kisses. Something he sometimes did when he was in a happy mood.

You hated yourself for what you were about to do,

“Matt we need to talk,” you pushed him away only to see him lean in again, “What? Is it about the game? I thought I had pretty good night. What did you think?”

You despised how your eyes started to tear up but you kept a straight voice,

“We need to end this.”

“What?” He laughed as if he didn’t hear you correctly.

“Whatever this is. Things are getting too personal. They have been for weeks now and I should’ve been more persistent but I am now.”

“What are you talking about?” His hands dropped from your arms to his sides,

“Whatever this was is over.”

“This is over? Just like that?” He scoffed starting to become agitated, he didn’t understand where this was coming from,

“Yeah how else would you end a fuck buddy relationship?” You retaliated in attitude and nerves.

“But this isn’t a fuck buddy relationship! Not when I’m love with you!”

Mat never failed to surprise you but you should have seen this coming.

“You don’t mean that.” you unconsciously replied.

“The fuck I don’t!” His frustration was making things difficult so you had lied next,

“There’s someone else.” You tried to hold eye contact to make things believable but Mat knew better,

“Who?”

“You don’t know him.”

“So you see commitment in this ‘guy’ but not with me? The man you’ve been fucking with the past months.”

“That’s all it was Mat, it was just sex.”

“Thats bullshit! You’re telling me that you don’t feel anything more for me than just a fuck buddy?” His eyes looked dark with sadness and tears welling up,

“I told you from the beginning that I wanted nothing more. You promised too.” You lowered your voice to lessen the awful tension.

“Well I guess I broke that promise.” He stood there waiting for you say something but you didn’t know what else to say. So he broke the silence,

“Y/n, I’m in love with you.” his voice wavered,

“Mat.”

“I love you and you’re scared of being with me fully but I can wait because I don’t believe there is another guy.”

“Mat stop.”

“I’ve been in love with you probably since the very beginning and I’ll still love you for a long time.” He rambled trying to reach for your touch but you had to conclude things.

“Mat, I don’t love you.” You said harshly to get your point across.

You moved his arms from reaching yours, “There is another guy and I need to keep my options open while I’m young. You should too.”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered leaving his apartment.

+

It had been weeks when you broke his heart. He didn’t give up even after that horrible fight. He continued to call and text. He even showed up to your place but kept silent.

You tried to not cry for him or the ended relationship. It wasn’t fair or right but it had to be done. That’s at least what you told yourself every night before going to asleep.

Mat would find someone better and move on. It would be like nothing ever happened between you two. Just lost in history.

He eventually stop calling and showing up at your door. It was the first steps to finally moving on you told yourself.

“Who’s ‘M’?” Your friend had pulled you from your thoughts.

“Huh?” You were making dinner for your guest as it was rare to have her over.

“This.” She showed you the polaroid. It was the polaroid Mat had toke of you one of your mornings.

~~~

“Stop snooping.” You watched him walking around your room, observing your shelves and tables.

“I’m not snooping. Just looking.” He grabbed the white polaroid you had gotten as a gift from your shelve.

“Now you’re touching.” You said from the comfort of your bed,

“Say cheese.” He climbed over you to take a picture,

“It’s too early for a photoshoot.” You held your hands up blocking the lens,

“C’mon just one photo,” be begged trying to move your hands,

“I don’t feel pretty.” You pulled your comforter above your face,

He leaned down to slowly pull down the comforter, “You always look pretty,” he whispered as he softly kissed you.

Catching you off guard he took a quick shot of you smiling. He wrote the date and his initial in sharpie after snooping in your desk.

~~~

“He’s just some guy.” You say nonchalantly avoiding the possible topic.

“Did he take this picture?” Of course she asks,

“Yeah he did.” You replied,

“This isn’t the same guy from that bar right?” You didn’t tell her much about Mat. Just that you were seeing someone very casually.

“He is actually, or was.” You tried to focus on the chopped vegetables rather than the sad eyes Mat looked at you with.

“What do you mean was?” She persisted and you gave in explaining everything.

“Hold up. This guy obviously cares about you, even told you that he loves you and you turned him down?”

“This is why I didn’t tell you everything.”

“Because you don’t want to hear the truth that this guy loves you. Love. The things everybody wants. And you just give it up like that.”

“He wasn’t supposed to fall in love with me!”

“Why the hell not!? He had every reason to. Do you love him?” You hated how she asked the most difficult yet important questions.

“I don’t know.” You said half heartedly.

“You don’t know.” Her eyes pierced yours as you kept lying to yourself and others over and over again.

“It would never work me and him! He has a busy schedule and-“ you start the excuses,

“Oh but not busy enough to fuck each other!”

“Y/n be real. Let’s put the lies and excuses away. Why can’t you let yourself be happy for once while you have the chance?”

“You don’t understand. I broke his heart. I saw it in his face when I told him I didn’t love him. I don’t deserve to see him again or to ask for another chance.“

“Well I think everyone deserves a second chance. And if he truly loves you, he can understand your point of view.”

She forced you to see him again. You still couldn’t see why you should let yourself be happy even after breaking his heart. But you were on your way to his place with the same pit of anxiety in your stomach.

You didn’t call or text before to see if he was home. You didn’t want him to decline your request before seeing him in person, so you knocked on his door.

The moment he opened the door your heart ached. His face was visibly sad and his eyes red. You wanted to run away again but you couldn’t feel anything but pity and guilt.

“Can I come in?”

“Sure” His voice was deep and raspy. His face lacked emotion except when he saw you, he didn’t think he would see you again.

The silence of the apartment was deafening and uncomfortable, but you took a seat on his couch, signaling him to do the same.

“Mat, I am so sorry for the things that I said and did throughout everything. I didn’t mean any of it.”

You paused to collect your shaky breath and thoughts,

“You’re right. I am scared to be with you fully because you’re the most important and life changing thing that has happened to me and it terrifies me. From the beginning I only wanted something simple with no strings attached but then everything started to become so real without us even discussing it! I can’t blame you for treating me like how any girl dreams to be treated, I just wish we had slowed down and talked about things first and then maybe I wouldn’t have lied about there being someone else. Because there isn’t, I mean how could there be when you’ve been always by my side? What im trying to say is that if somehow you don’t hate me, hopefully we can start again?”

You could hear your pulse banging in your ears when he didn’t say anything. He just looked at you indifferently but still with those red eyes.

“You’re right too. I was in the wrong to continue things like we were official and not talk about it. I should I have said something earlier before I asked you to meet the guys. Maybe before Valentine’s Day too, that was probably a surprise.” He laughs at his lighthearted joke to soothe the tension, making you laugh too with tears falling down your face.

“You brought me a bouquet the size of a tire, so I was a little bit surprised.”

Both you laughed at how ridiculously huge those flowers were but of how sweet the gesture was. Mat broke the sweet silence with a question that had been left unanswered,

“Y/n, do you love me?”

You sympathized for him, the look of sincerity and incandescent love he had for you. You nod your head with a tearful smile.

He breaked into glossy eyed smile as he reached over to embrace and kiss you. A replica, but somehow better, kiss of the Valentine’s Day one. A slow but passionate kiss of pure adoration and love. He pulled away after what felt enough for now,

“I have to hear you say it though,” he states

“Say what?” You licked your lips eyeing his before meeting his eyes,

He slightly cocked his head to the side, “Don’t act dumb.”

“I love you, Mathew Barzal.”

#mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x reader #nhl imagine #latina!reader #jells🪼imagines

[sgiandubh]

Lights, camera, shit show

I was just cleaning my OL folders (all those Chinese paintings and scrolls do take a horrendous amount of space, heh) and I just stumbled upon something I completely forgot to share and discuss with you. I found this particular article during my solitaire lurking months and I remember being befuddled by it for a long time, then thought I've lost it for good.

I don't remember ever seeing it shared or discussed in here, either and if, by any slim chance, I am wrong, kindly forgive me. That professional website is now closed, but its content is still available to browse:

Anyway, there goes: https://www.studiodaily.com/2018/06/outlander-dp-stephen-mcnutt-asc-csc-saucy-scottish-show/

We discussed Terry Dresbach and her inebriated rants, Vanessa Woman's devastating impact on set as Intimacy Coordinator, RDM's jealousy and many other aspects of life on the OL set. Rumors likely to have originated there peppered our shipping trail like flickering lights in a sea of darkness. So yes, we dissected these things to death. But not Stephen McNutt's interview to Studio Daily, on June 22, 2018 - please keep in mind the date, it is essential!

Stephen McNutt is a well-established professional and a member of the American Society of Cinematographers (ASC) and the Canadian Society of Cinematographers (CSC), as he hails from British Columbia. He also has a consistent track record of previous work with RDM, both on Battlestar Galactica and Caprica (its prequel). Therefore, one has to immediately suppose he was handpicked and brought on set by the same RDM, of course: set a very low bar on your expectations, I am warning you.

By the grace of RDM, he was one of the main Directors of Photography for OL during Seasons Two and Three. IMDb is not the best source for corroborating things, because they credit him with 13 episodes in Season Two (including La Dame Blanche- he is the Blue Room guy!), but only one for Season Three (First Wife), which is completely wrong. I even had to check some opening credits on Netflix (at reduced speed, ugh), because he speaks at length of A. Malcolm, something that would have made little sense otherwise. He was there, of course: and his is a first-hand account, heavily loaded with both innuendo and TPTB bullshit, up to the point of complete incoherence.

We focus on the three final questions:

This is a study in bullshitology, right here. The question asked is very clear and very technical: how did you approach those famous love scenes?

The answer is a mumble jumble of retcon, deflections, slips and overall impossible scramble for a logical explanation. I am doing a line by line, because this is almost too good to be true:

'(...) But as far as Cat and Sammy making love (...)' : um, hello and excuse me, I thought the question was about Jamie and Claire?!? And then we are delusional and can't fucking separate, when your own henchman, the Director of Photography no less, seems to be totally unable to do so, too? Hello? Also: 'Sammy'? 'Sammy'? What. The. Total. Fuck, and I LOLed then and I am still LOLing now. Terms of endearment overheard on set - but no, here comes the 'friendship' shite, hitting the narrative fan with Mach 5 speed. Objective? Explaining in a plausible way the hugging and 'keeping warm'. And I am sorry, but this begs the question: what the hell did this man see on that set? And how many people did see the same, hence the need to release such a gratuitous lie, for pure retconning purposes?

'They are not an item at all - I think she just got married'. Oh, fuck my life, man: you are such a terrible, terrible liar! Remember, that interview was taken in June 2018: after the OZ EFH and just about when C. was gleefully answering 'oh, God forbid!' every time she was prompted by press about her marriage plans. How can somebody with a pretty high trophic level and personal rapport to both S and C be totally unaware about C's marital status at the time? How can a long time acquaintance and coworker of RDM say no both to a friend and to a current boss (same person, the worst case scenario) asking for a favor, in that particular context? It also goes to prove that the shit show plot mainlines never originated with S and C and that the Remarkable Week-end was already planned for quite some time. By TPTB. With the full knowledge of RDM.

Let's suppose Mr. McNutt was so deeply engrossed in his work as not to notice all the people who must have congratulated C on set. I mean, I know who our (spinster) colleague from Accounting is currently banging and that guy is (mercifully) not among our staff (I totally wish them well, btw). Maybe because nobody congratulated C on that fakegagement? Also, you know them well enough to confidently say 'they are not an item', but don't know she was not married at the time and state an enormity with the same confidence? What in the name of the hoo-ha did I just read, here?

'I was always in such amazement of that.' In amazement of exactly what, Mr. McNutt? Surely not a woman holding hands or keeping warm with her gay co-star on set, huh? I mean, I need the best American English dictionary, here:

Again: what the heck did this man see? What comments did he hear? Surely, 'amazement' is a very precise choice of wording, with particularly enlightening synonyms:

Hence the need to end the demonstration with a deflection: 'They would just have fun.' You know, there is no such thing as a virgin whore, Mr. McNutt: you either are in such astonishment or you think your pals, good old S and C, such a funny girl, were having, well... 'fun', what else? You can't logically have both in the same paragraph!

And there we go: 'a very collegial atmosphere on set'. The answer is pure fool's gold, if you ask me: 'Nobody goes to sit in a trailer or says they aren’t showing up that day. '

And I laughed. And I laughed. And I laughed. I really don't know what this man is talking about. I never heard McTavish telling S to get out of that trailer ('nephew'). I never read the 'two very loved-up birdies' in a trailer a-rockin' Anons. I never watched that 2015 Anglophile SDCC interview, when S mentioned listening in their shared trailer to Erasure's Oh, l'Amour and C immediately reacted ('oh, did you just admit to that?'). But unlike me, McNutt must have been legally bound by a big cojones Non-Disclosure Agreement and morally bound by loyalty towards RDM, his friend, boss and benefactor.

This. All of the above. This is the real reason for all the bullshit you've just read: explaining a real, shocking love story by socially progressive regulations, allowing the cast to be 'much more happy'. I would laugh some more, if this was not sinister and cruel, in fact.

It is Love. A deep, strong one. But the seeds of the adverse narrative were planted early and deep, forcing even decent people like this guy to lie and smear himself a bit in the process. What we see and hear now are but better worded and more refined consequences of that fateful January 2016 morning in LA. And since I am allowed the dubious luxury only a healthy distance in time allows, let me remind you a simple, fun fact about this interview who stated they were never an item:

About ten months after McNutt uttered these words, the fandom was hit by the Covfefe Pics.

I rest my case.

#shitshow #fandom

[teewritessmth]

Beta squad reacting to someone in the production team yelling at you.

Warnings : None

Niko Omilana -

⇒He'd go quiet. If he was talking to someone while this incident took place, he'd immediately drop the topic and just stand there in silence. It could come off as a bit rude, yes. But he is not letting a rando yell at you without a valid point.

⇒Niko wouldn't say anything to the guy while he'd be yelling at you. Oh no no no. He's not the one to create a scene. He's gonna approach the guy after he was done.

⇒He'd walk up to you, kiss your forehead and tell you to wait with the others while he motions the guy to come near him with a snap of his fingers.

⇒Niko would make it very clear that the stunt the production guy pulled was extremely stupid and that you had the power to completely put him out in the streets, jobless with his tail between his legs. All it would take was one well placed phone call.

⇒Don't be shocked when he comes to you apologizing and begging for a second chance. After all a certain person made him realise just how idiotic it is to shout at you, his superior.

Sharky -

⇒Sharky would step in the argument almost immediately, trying to make sense of the situation. He'd politely ask the guy to calm down and explain the situation to him properly. I mean there's nothing wrong with cleaning the air.

⇒He'd take control of the situation pretty nicely, I think he'd later approach both you and the guy separately if it was a mild disagreement.

⇒However, if it was something serious. Sharky would make his disappointment towards the production crew very known. After all he's known them for years and the least he can expect of them is to behave infront of you.

⇒He'd try to keep a cool head throughout the whole mishap, but would undoubtedly tell the guy to apologise to you. Sharky wouldn't necessarily hold a high ground like Niko, but he would do his level best to solve the matter.

⇒Later that day, he'd rub soothing circles on the back of your hand telling you stories of when he got mistreated by other people until they clocked the power difference. Overall he'd take a comforting stance for you rather than get all defensive against others.

Aj Shabeel -

⇒Now things do a 180 when it's with Aj. In this case, he had royally fucked up and someway or the other... All the blame fell upon your shoulder.

⇒Multiple people from production would demand explanations and some would even start raising their voice to express their opinions up until Aj steps into the room.

⇒Rather surprisingly, Aj shows immense maturity. He apologises profusely for the mixup and tells everyone that fighting will only get them so far. At the far end everyone was on the same side of the boat. Going against one another would be a penalizing strategy.

⇒When everyone leaves you and Aj to be, grumbling an apology or two to you, your boyfriend jogs up to you and hugs you tight. He kisses your forehead and tells you how sorry he was that you were their main target even though it was him at fault. You stroke his cheek with the back of your hand and tell him to forget all about it. It's not like he could've foreseen the turn of events.

⇒Buys you your favorite snacks when you two are on the way home. Poor Aj felt extremely guilty for putting you in a situation like that.

Kenny -

⇒Kenny grabs a hold of the situation and moves closer to you, ready to intervene if necessary, his focus solely on ensuring your safety and well-being.

⇒He addresses the situation directly, calmly asking the person to lower their tone and treat you with respect, his tone firm conveying a clear message of dominance. He'd try masking his rage by putting his hands in his pockets or grinding his teeth.

⇒Kenny establishes boundaries, making it clear that he won't tolerate anyone disrespecting you or raising their voice inappropriately, his words leaving no room for misunderstanding.

⇒If the argument escalates, Kenny raises his own voice, trying to get through the guy and perhaps teach him professionalism in the workplace. After the guy walks away, Kenny would pull you close for a kiss and curse the don under his breath.

Chunkz -

⇒Chunkz, having been in the industry for a considerable amount of time, understands the intricate balance of maintaining relationships with the production crew. With this in mind, he approaches the situation fully geared up, aiming to find a resolution that benefits both sides.

⇒After all, the invaluable role of the production crew is ensuring the success of their videos. Chunkz tries to highlight the importance of mutual respect and understanding. He knows that nurturing positive relationships with the crew is crucial for future collaborations and success.

⇒In the heat of the moment, Chunkz swiftly assesses the escalating tension and decides to diffuse the situation gracefully. Rather than engaging in confrontation, he deftly maneuvers to divert attention, suggesting a change of scenery to allow everyone to cool off and regain composure.

⇒Chunkz smoothly transitions the conversation, making light-hearted excuses to whisk you and the iritated crew member away to a quieter corner of the studio.

⇒Throughout the whole thing, Chunkz remains a calming presence, offering reassurance and support to both you and the crew member. His actions back up his ability to navigate challenging situations with grace and empathy, creating the best situation for everyone.

#betasquad #niko omilana #sharky #chunkz #king kenny #ajshabeel #betasquad x reader #uk youtubers #niko omilana x reader #sharky x reader #aj shabeel x reader #king kenny x reader #chunkz x reader #ukyt

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Word count: 2400+

Warnings: language, mentions of trauma

I noticed that most of you aren't Tamlin's fans, but give him a chance😉

Part I | Part III

One day you woke up into gloomy morning, heavy rain drumming on the leaves behind the windows. You couldn't go out, so you cuddled down with a blanket into your favourite armchair in front of the fireplace with cracking wood in it. Slowly sipping fragrant tea you dived into a book laid on your lap.

After the beast was gone your life returned to its normal. You spent your days taking walks in the forest, picking up herbs, fishing and collecting berries and mushrooms to eat. You still thought about the beast, of course you did, but after all it was his decision to leave. All you could do was hope that there's somebody who would check on his wound, making sure it healed properly.

Suddenly front door burst open harshly and the beast broke in. He was soaked, water dripping on the floor. But the sudden invasion wasn't what scared you the most. It was the beast's expression. He looked so wild, so dangerous, so angry, the rows of sharp fangs bared, his angry eyes sizing you. Huge body filled small space of cottage, sucking out all the air.

Your fingers clenching tighter around the mug, was the only sign of fear you allowed yourself. Maybe after all, they were right saying the High Lord went crazy. There's no other explanation to this. You looked straight into the green eyes with gold flecks waiting, leaving the first move to him.

He growled, the sound full of rage and pain shook the walls. He began to pad around, the dagger-like claws had left scratches on the wooden floor. You were watching him with bated breath.

After few minutes he came to you, sitting down he pressed his wolf's head to your knees and exhaled deeply.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I didn't know where else to go."

"It's okay," you breathed out swallowing hard. You could still feel his rage seeping from his body.

"And I'm sorry for the door. I'll repair it." You looked to the remains of what used to be the front door. The spicy smell of magic filled the air and the debris disappeared immediately replaced by new door.

"Thank you," you whispered still clenching the mug. Even thought he seemed to be calmer now, you could sense bad mood hadn't left him yet. Your eyes fell to the side where he had been wounded. "I see you healed."

"Yes, all thanks to you and that tea you gave me." He didn't offer any explanation of why he disappeared without a word, so you wouldn't ask more about it. You sat silently in that strange position for a while, not sure which topic was safe to take out.

"Is.. everything alright?" you tried your luck, hoping he wouldn't bite your head off.

"No," he answered simply and you could sense new surge of anger building in him. "She looked so satisfied..so happy next to that bastard. As if she was laughing right in my face and saying: he fucks me better than you. He even made me his.." He abruptly halted, probably thinking he said too much.

But you already knew who he really was. You suspected it before and today his words just made you sure of it. You swallowed hard. There wasn't much you could say to that without revealing you knew his true identity. So you decided it's better to remain silent.

The beast exhaled deeply and closed his eyes. "Would you mind if we stay like this for a while?" he asked, voice full of pain and resignation.

"No, I don't mind it," you offered small smile. And so you sat there in silence with beast's head rested on your legs. The fire in the hearth crackled, raindrops drummed on windows and roof and the wind blew through the treetops.

Lost in your thoughts you watched beast's slowly drying fur while sipping your tea. Reaching out your fingers gently ran over the soft fur. The beast tensed under your touch and holding breathe cracked his eyes open. Only then you realized what you had done.

"I'm so sorry," you quickly untangled fingers from fur. "I didn't mean.."

"It's okay," he interrupted you. "I.. like..it.."

It's so surprising, you weren't sure what to do. Was it permission to continue? Hesitantly you touched him, gently scratching soft fur between the antlers. He purred lowly and shut eyes closed. Heat consumed your cheeks. Treating High Lord as some pet. How rude. You couldn't believe your own audacity. Thankfully nobody else saw that. Your fingers slid down behind his ear.

Shiver ran down his spine and startled he sat up, breaking off contact. His unusual green eyes locked with yours. Some strange energy surged between you and then he blinked and it was gone.

Turning his gaze to the fire, he cleared his throat. "Don't you...have more of the tea? It smells nice."

"Oh, sure," you babbled, accepting the way out he'd offered you so generously.

While you were pouring tea to the bowl, you could feel his intensive gaze. He didn't stop even when you returned back and offered him the tea.

"Thank you," he mumbled. Both of you sat and drank your teas, silence was stretching. When it was clear he didn't want to talk anymore, you picked up your book, found where you left off and started to read.

It was almost dinner time. The beast was lying in front of the fireplace fast asleep. His gentle snoring and unceasing rain were the only sounds in the darkening room. You put the book aside. Lighting candles along the way you stalked to the kitchen to prepare something to eat.

The beast didn't make even slightest move, but you knew he's awake. When food was on the table you hesitantly stepped to his side and touched his shoulder. He looked up at you.

"Come and eat something," you invited him. Obediently he followed you to table and sat down across from you. Sitting on the floor he was still taller than you. Looking down on you he watched as you took first bite. Only then he started to eat too. He finished in no time and liking his muzzle looked at plates on the table.

"Would you like some more?" you asked him.

He stiffened slowly looking up at you. "No, I'm fine." Lie. You could not only see, but also hear his hunger. You smirked, took his plate and put another portion of food on it.

"Don't be shy to tell you are hungry." He hesitantly nodded and started to eat.

When you finished, you began to clean table and dishes while he watched you with interest. "I wonder why you don't use your magic. It could be done in no time."

"I have no powers," you snorted amused.

"But you do have some," he insisted. "I can feel it. Especially when you make tea, medicines or cook."

"You must be wrong," you tried to laugh it off nervously. "I don't—can't.."

"Believe me. I can sense quite great power from you. Even now. It's suppressed, but it's there. You're on the same level as any High Fae."

"Can we just stop talking about it?" you asked him. You felt uneasy. Any mention of your magic made you feel so since you could remember. You didn't know why, anything that happened before you started to live in this cottage, was blurred. You didn't know where you came from, who you were or who your parents were. You only knew you didn't want to find out. All this magic talk made you feel nauseous. "I'm going to take some logs for fire," you announced, needing to get out of there. You didn't wait for his reaction. You needed fresh chilly air immediately.

His eyes narrowed as you rushed out into the dark. He noticed your pale face, but decided not to mention this topic anymore. Obviously there was something about it that bothered you. You didn't push him about his inner wounds, you didn't demand any explanations and he would do the same.

You didn't know how long you were sitting under the tree in the dark cold forest pressing your hands to ears, rocking back and forth. Screaming female's voice echoed in your mind. No doubt it was something you witnessed in the past, some lost memory, but you didn't want to know what it meant. You only wanted it to stop.

When you finally regained your usual composure, you took few logs and returned to cottage. The beast was again lying in front of the hearth. He looked up at you. "Everything okay?"

"Perfectly fine," you put logs away and sat down to your armchair. Suddenly realising how cold you were, you pulled up the blanket. The beast watched as you settled into the armchair and then put his head on the paws. The rest of the night you two spent in silence.

Three days passed since that day. You lived just as before. Only one thing changed - you weren't alone anymore.

The first day the beast stayed inside while you went on your regular walk, picking up herbs, mushrooms and berries, and fishing. He was probably bored all alone, because next day he joined you and went out with you. He was rather quiet companion, mostly just looking out for you while basking in the sun or helping you to carry the basket.

He was often lost in thoughts. Something bothered him, but he wouldn't say a single word. You didn't ask about it either. You just made sure he knew you were there if he needed.

Today wasn't different. You were sitting on the bank of small lake fishing while the beast was lying on large rock nearby, watching you out of habit.

"Don't you hunt?" he asked you suddenly.

You shook head. "I don't. I couldn't possibly kill an animal. I feel sick to even think about hurting small mouse."

He made a sound that remotely resembled the laughter. "You are really a vicious witch."

You frowned at him. "There's nothing wrong with it."

"No, it isn't," he agreed, his voice playful. It was the first time he had such good mood since you met him. For some reason it warmed your heart and you smiled too. "Have you ever eaten meat except of fish?"

"To be honest I don't know. I don't remember my life before I came to this forest," you admitted.

"Why?" he asked carefully.

"I don't know," you shrugged.

"Did you try to remember or search for someone to help you?"

You bit on your lower lip and shook your head. "I feel that it's better not to know."

"I see," he turned back to the lake, putting this conversation to the end. He wanted to know more, but it seemed to be dangerous topic. You were already pale enough.

For the rest of the day he stayed silent seemingly thinking about something. His good mood disappeared which was a pity. You quite liked that change and his teasing.

After the dinner he sat down in front of you, resolution in his green eyes.

"There's—there's something I should tell you.."

You patiently waited for his next words, giving him an encouraging smile.

"I..I'm not beast," he breathed out, watching you carefully, waiting for your reaction.

"I know. You have human eyes," you said calmly and took a sip of tea.

"You are really special," his mouth widened into something similar to the smile, but more wild, eyes shined brightly.

He looked at you, jaw tightening. "There is more.."

He inhaled deeply, those gleaming green eyes never leaving yours. His features started to change. You just sat there and watched. It took mere seconds, a flash of light and there was a young male kneeling in front of you only in ragged brown breeches. His golden hair were long, tangled and as dirty as the rest of his muscular body. Big silver scar on his ribs was the only proof he was the injured beast you saved.

On the first look he was High Fae, there's no doubt about it. His magic was so powerful your insides shivered. You couldn't take eyes off of him, lips slightly parted. Even under the layers of dirt he was still attractive. You'd already seen all kinds of fae males, but no one like him. Nobody was so handsome, so graceful. Nobody made your heart jump to your throat. You realized you were staring at him. Ashamed you looked down on your hands.

He nervously cleared his throat. "I'm.. Tamlin.." No titles. Okay, you could play along.

"Ehm, nice to meet you," you mumbled.

"I'm sorry for my messy appearance. It's quite some time since I.. you know.. I've spent several days in my animal form.."

"It's okay," you shyly took another sip of tea, so you didn't have to look at his broad chest.

He shakily inhaled. "Listen.. I know this is sudden, but.. the war is approaching. I had a peaceful time here to think things over, which I'm really grateful for.. but you have to go.. flee to another Court or maybe even to continent. This place won't be safe. If Prythian looses, this Court will be destroyed as first.."

Tamlin wanted to continue, but you stopped him. All feelings aside you found your balance once again and he could see why other Fae had avoided you. You were empty.

"I will not go anywhere," you stated coldly.

"It wasn't request," he matched your tone, anger building up in his voice, sharp claws slid out.

"You have no right to command me around. It's up to me if I want to leave or no." You spoke calmly, it wasn't in your nature to shout at others.

"Actually I.." Tamlin halted, biting down on his lower lip. "Do as you wish, you stubborn little thing. I warned you," he growled, stood up swiftly and without another word left.

You remained seated in your armchair grasping mug in your fingers. You understood his concern, but high lord or no he had no right to order you to leave your cottage, the only home you had ever known. This was your comfort zone and you couldn't even imagine life behind the borders of this forest.

You closed your eyes trying to calm down. You almost started to like him and his silent company. You didn't want to be angry at him. You didn't want to feel anything at all. Feelings were just troubles and troubles hadn't place in your life. And so you pushed and pushed until all of the feelings disappeared and you again felt yourself.

#tamlin x you #tamlin x reader #tamlin acotar #tamlin week #tamlin #acotar fanfiction #acotar #sarah j maas #high lord of spring court #spring court #tamlin fanfiction #tamlin fanart #tamlin angst

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Ok so now that I've spent some time thinking about the whole "Chuuya was never a vampire" twist, I... still don't like it. For many reasons.

Here's my explanation; if you want to read it, please do. I strive to be fair. I want to wait for the manga release before making a verdict on whether it's bad writing or not, and I also want to see the start of next arc to see where they're going with all this.

If you don't want to read it, and you're having fun with the twist (it is funny. I will admit that much), then skip this and keep having fun! I don't want to ruin anyone's enjoyment.

First of all. It makes no sense. There are things that just do not add up. There was never an indication this was a possibility.

Bro. Did you put on costume makeup for the texture under your eyes? Did it wash off after nearly getting drowned and you had to frantically reapply it behind Fyodor's back and that's why we couldn't see your face for several chapters. Did you take it off again for your dramatic reveal here at the end? I demand smeared undereye makeup Chuuya in the manga when it releases hbfsdjhbfv

Ok this was more a joke. But here's what really irks me.

From what I can recall, this is. True. He needs to have made contact to manipulate gravity. It's also re-established in this very arc.

Great. So how the fuck did he slow the elevator? He was with Fyodor in a separate room! This makes no sense. Did he leave to stop the elevator and Fyodor was like "oh chill. ok come back soon"??? What?!

Here's another thing I want to address:

@ticklinglady I had this same question. However, on thinking on it again, I do have an answer that makes sense - they had to buy time for Sigma to use his ability on Fyodor, to gain knowledge on him about what he knows, and what his ability is. <-I feel confident in saying this is going to be important later. Sigma will still have a role to play and we will find out more about Fyodor!

Alright. Moving on to the themes, and why this also doesn't work (at least for me).

The theme in this arc is very much to do with the contrast between trust vs control. This is Fyodor's failing when it came to Dazai, and it is established very early on as the major contrast between them, in the Sky Casino arc. The vampires, though it seemed silly and random, fit nicely into that theming. And the conclusion, where Dazai showed extreme faith in Sigma and the Agency members (and what an interesting contrast that is; to have someone show faith in ordinary humans when his foil is a man who has faith in god but not humanity), that fits into that theming also. Ok, so this was an extension of that right? Showing faith in Chuuya, as always.

Yeah, no. I want to direct your attention back to this here.

This line is the one that had everyone going "oh man skk is going to fuck you up for that". I made an entire analysis back when this chapter first came out about the themes that we saw, and Fyodor's utter devaluing of the effectiveness of people beyond just their skills and abilities (it's here, if you're curious). This is why I suspected that, since Dazai and Fyodor are intellectually matched, it would have to be Sigma and Chuuya to catch Fyodor off guard - because he only values what people can do, not who they are.

Well, we got a little with Sigma, before Fyodor took control of the situation again. (Rip buddy.) Sigma's tenacity and unwillingness to fall for Fyodor's manipulating him away from helping the Agency was based off his personal choice and free will. He managed to shoot him! Fyodor was reduced to a cheap trick to get close enough to stab him! There was a certain level of payoff.

But Chuuya? I want you to think for a second. What did he actually do? Not a single part of this was Chuuya's idea. It was Mori's - he was at the very least sent undercover under orders, if not sent to Meursault under orders. He didn't even glue his own fangs in apparently. Now let's go over what he did. Why was it so necessary that it be Chuuya there? Well, obviously because gravity manipulation was needed to slow the elevator and the bullet. Oh... hm. So. His ability. Was what was needed, huh?

But it was necessary for it to be Chuuya because of the bond between him and Dazai, right? Oh. Wait. So, Chuuya's personality and goals don't matter - only his ability to read Dazai.

This twist makes it so Chuuya as a person doesn't actually throw a wrench into Fyodor's plans at all. All that matters is that he is Mori's executive and Dazai's partner. I guess he was "utilized" after all. I thought, with his characterization in Fifteen and Stormbringer, that we were moving away from this characterization of Chuuya only by his bond with Dazai. Do you want to scream.

You might be saying, okay, but at the very least it showed the depths of Double Black's bond! ...did it? Not really, at least not to me. The only impressive part of any of this was Mori's preparedness. This was barely an skk plan. It was a Mori plan. Double Black placing their lives in each other's hands is a Tuesday for them. This is nothing we didn't already know. And truthfully, it goes nowhere near the level of sheer trust we saw in Dead Apple. Mori sent Chuuya in sure, but it was only after everything settled down that he realized that Mori suspected Dazai would need help. Before that point, it seemed everyone thought Dazai was dead except Chuuya. Chuuya chose to jump out of that plane. Chuuya chose to risk his life. It showcased his personality, his free agency, and the level of trust they had far, far better. And it was emotionally satisfying! Dazai was extremely grateful that his trust paid off! Chuuya was somewhat conscious during Corruption, enough to weaken his own punch and shout Dazai's name! Dazai prevented Chuuya from having his ability be separated from him by the fog! They are an unbeatable team... but they were still left exhausted, and had to rely only on each other. How does what happened in this latest episode compare to that in a way that makes me believe they've actually outmaneuvered Fyodor?

Listen. I'll take twists that don't really have a great build up if they further the themes or character development, or it just makes for good drama. There's an interesting pay off, at least, so I say "okay, okay. Could've been done better, but I'll let it slide for the intrigue." But here? Nothing. It was boring. Are you bored.

Anime watchers were probably more fine with it. Maybe it was a little disappointing, but oh well. But manga readers have been having this plot dragged out for years. A lot of said fans (including myself) were excited to see Chuuya become main series relevant and receive present day development - and it seemed like we were going to get that with the recent publication of not one, but two Chuuya backstory novels, and the drama of this arc pitting Dazai and Chuuya against each other. Instead, this did absolutely nothing of interest for his character. Why was he even here?

Which brings me to the last point, which is the characterization.

Going back and re-reading this entire arc now, it becomes one big stage performance. Ok, fine, it's a little funny. But now there's hardly anything of value to these interactions. The only ones that actually matter are Fyodor and Sigma, and Fyodor and Nikolai. All that buildup to drama between Double Black, to another incredible display of trust, to something shifting and changing from the status quo... all that build up, and nothing has changed for Chuuya, or for Double Black. The show of trust wasn't even that dramatic really. Are you bored still.

This also weakens Fyodor's character to me. Fyodor witnessed their incredible show of trust in Dead Apple. I assumed he was prepared for skk-typical bullshittery, you know, being a genius on par if not greater than Dazai. You're telling me he was so overconfident he completely missed that Chuuya wasn't a vampire? Really? Fyodor really had nothing in place that would verify whether the vampires were actually under control? He wasn't constantly checking for a plan? It really was just red eyes and fangs, and he thought that was fine? That's it? Ok.

Truthfully, I was kind of :| about several of the preceding twists in the Meursault arc, particularly the dagger Fyodor pulled out when he started acting to Sigma, and the door railing being preemptively crushed by Chuuya before the drowning started. The dagger was actually ornate in the manga, which raised several questions - it couldn't have come from a guard. It made me think there was more to that interaction than just Fyodor pretends to have a split personality and that there was actually something to that knife. Well, it was made to be a regular knife in the anime, so I guess theorizing across those lines are dashed.

What bothered me the most though was the crumpling of the rail to stop the door from completely closing. There was no indication of this in the manga. None. No one could've predicted that - because it's stupid. The water filled so fast it couldn't get out of the crack in the door, even though it was huge??? Dazai was in the control room - you're telling me that there was no security camera focused on the door??? You know, where you would position a security camera??? It was dumb to me, but I was willing to roll my eyes and move on because I was expecting a good payoff to all this, and well, it was funny.

But now, the whole arc is one extended joke skk were playing on Fyodor. And you're telling me that's how our major antagonist goes out? Our major antagonist of several arcs? Be for fucking real.

And depending on when Dazai figured it out, it may even cheapen earlier scenes. If he found out after the elevator slowed like people have been theorizing, I could accept that. That's fine. But I need people to recall: in the actual episode he states "it was all an act".

Is Dazai probably lying to save face? Sure. But as of this moment we actually have no evidence it wasn't an act from the beginning. Remember that Ango was communicating the whole time with Dazai. Remember that Mori was involved and helped Tanizaki and Kenji get to safety. It's entirely possible it was all premeditated.

One last suggestion: the plan name was "Good-bye" as suggested earlier. This means that even if Dazai didn't know from the beginning, he knew by the time of his speech to Chuuya as he was drowning.

This means that his whole scheme with Sigma was not an extremely dangerous, life-risking play on his part at all (@daz4i has gone to explain why this sacrificialism isn't good for a suicidal character, which I recommend reading, but nonetheless it was still notable characterization for Dazai). And what about this?

Even his own flashbacks and memories were, what? A lie? A performance? For whom? Not for Fyodor, that's for sure.

For us. The readers. For the people who are invested in these two and their dynamic. For the people who wanted development between them, because there are actually issues there that have not been resolved. People wanted Dazai to show real concern. Chuuya is still bitter, even if Dazai thinks everything is fine and the same since he left. There was a tease that we're going to get how Chuuya felt when Dazai left the Mafia at some point in the future. People were making angsty art and writing and getting really excited because all the prior interactions had appeared to be set up for the payoff of this drama.

We get an introduction in the dungeon. We reveal their partnership and fearsome reputation during the Lovecraft fight. They perform flawlessly in Dead Apple. Throughout all this, they need no communication. They read each other and respond in tandem, always... but there's still an underlying tension in the way they do not talk to each other. I, and many others, had thought the prison escape arc was the breaking point for some development, since their prior appearances were all meant to establish them as a team, and this arc dealt heavily with the breaking of established things.

But no. Deus ex skk is perfect. They have no issues or flaws. Do you want to scream again.

Anyways. I recognize I'm probably just very disappointed right now and by tomorrow, I probably won't care anymore and will just roll with it. I think I was extra disappointed because while I tempered my expectations for, say, Yosano and Kyouka's involvement (sigh...), I fully expected skk would be handled well, being the fandom faves and where the money is at, so I guess I took the disappointment that much harder.

However, I'm eager to see how the manga tackles the ending, and if we will get any extra cues or better pacing there that may make me not quite so bitter. If it's any consolation, I do think we'll be getting Chuuya focus at some point in a future arc, and while I do think Fyodor is dead, I doubt he will have stopped haunting the narrative. He'll be back in some capacity. I'm pretty certain he's still the mastermind.

And I'm curious about the next arc and what's happening there. Maybe some things will be revealed later that will help smooth out the flaws here.

#storyrambles #listen by tomorrow i'll probably be totally chill and whatever about it #i just needed to get this out #bsd #bsd season 5 #bsd spoilers #bsd negativity

[draguuula]

PLAYING WITH YOUR FOOD.

synopsis: mc is a little - just a tad bit - down bad for mychael over their impromptu dinner date. all silly fluff and crack here, maybe spoilers? for a lot of game dialogue used, and a bit of swearing. whoopsie 🤭

"mychael...? is that... yours?"

"i-i..."

the man burrows his head in his hands as he shamefully lowers his gaze while you stare at his tail, the slender limb firmly wrapped around the mug. you can feel the atmosphere in the room change, too, if the tension wasn't already thick enough to cut through with a knife.

"i'm sorry, mc, i think...

"i think it's time i was honest."

as he lifted his head and carded his hair back, you saw his eyes, yellow gleaming despite a shadow downcast over them. you froze as they stared directly at you before swiftly averting your gaze.

you were in awe. you had to fight the urge to have your giddy smile spread over your face with excitement, yet you didn't think you could stop your eyes from sparkling.

as if sensing your heartrate pick up, mychael stuttered out his next words. through your own burning gaze, you could see his throat bob up and down when he gulped.

"i-i know it's a lot to take in, but... this is the real me...

"please... please don't be scared."

he carefully picked and said his words with such utter desperation you felt your heart clench and you grit your teeth, having to stop yourself from bombarding this little forest guy with reassurance.

god, he was so cute.

he tensed even more so than he already was as he saw your jaw clench, trembling slightly while he prepared for the worst reaction from you. it was almost unfair how he waited with baited breath as you nearly passed out from trying not to bounce off the walls with excitement.

i mean, could he blame you? maybe. you were excited just first seeing his rather unusual appearance too when you awoke, but the sheer shock of being in an unfamiliar place and not finding your cat made you a bit... prickly, earlier.

you winced at the memory, and mychael grimaced at the idea of you being disgusted by him. of course, you noticed this only after sensing his gaze on you, awkwardly clenching the kitchen utensils in hand.

"mychael... i..."

you placed them down, a hand over your eyes while you lower lip trembled.

"i...

"i'm not scared.

"honestly, i think you're really fucking pretty."

...

the silence was loud.

"oh. excuse me. that was rude. are you comfortable with swearing? i sure hope so..."

he was going to sputter, but no words came out. instead, his eyes blew wide open and his pupils dilated significantly. like a cat's... you noted.

he clearly stared at you dumbfounded as his face slowly grew blue, silently waiting for an explanation behind your thought process. he couldn't believe what he was hearing. you merely chuckled at his awe. and the cute way his ears lowered and pulled back, by extension.

"o-okay, maybe i came off a little too strongly," you cleared your throat awkwardly, nervously tugging at your collar with a laugh, "aha, maybe i'm a little scared, but-"

"ah! s-sorry." he apologized.

of course he apologized... you thought, just when you were about to say you were scared by how damn alluring and attractive he was because... damn, had you never seen a guy so otherworldly.

you went to sigh at your messed up rizz, but paused midway of doing so as he grabbed a plate, hiding behind it. you blinked at his "hidden" figure with a blank face, opening your mouth to say something but deciding against it as that same mouth already made him panic just now.

"would it help if i just... hide it? i-i could fix my hair like before... if that's what you prefer."

you sat there with tears stinging your eyes mentally. or maybe a singular tear really did slip out as you watched him hunch over to make himself seem less intimidating... he was just too damn adorable.

you finally let out a sigh, a crooked yet bashful smile appearing on your face.

"hey... mychael?"

he flinched in place as your fingertip made contact with his flushed green skin, and you delighted in seeing faint hints of blue decorating his adorable, elongated ears up close. he muffled a response to you from behind his glass shield. you shook your head at his antics.

"...can... you put that down?"

he went silent with the shyest look on his face as he slowly peeked over the plate, all four eyes looking at the floor instead of you.

"...c-can you look at me...?"

he finally glanced at you. you felt that stupid, silly grin of yours take over your face against your will, warmly smiling at him as you got a proper look over his features.

"hi, there."

with just those words alone, his face was almost fully taken over by a shade of blue, much to your amusement. it only served to make you giggle at his shy cuteness while he blushed harder.

"d-don't look at me like that..."

"look at you like what? i'm not doing anything..." you tease, feeling your own face heat up and paint your cheeks a darker hue.

"mc, p-please..." he groaned, on the borderline of hiding his face in his hands again before you apologized, not wanting him to pull himself away from your stare anymore... even if it flustered you, too.

you plucked the mug from his tail as he stared at you, bewildered once more. you stared into the mixture while moving the mug in a circular rotation to watch it swirl, about to compliment his natural affinity for his handiwork in the kitchen before he fidgeted.

"a-are you really... okay with this? with me?"

you noted how his voice seemed small as he questioned you, the blue pigment having seemingly never left his skin. the corners of your lips twitched upwards lazily while you had your own blush dusting your cheeks, now being the one to glance away.

"i said it before, and i'll say it again... you're really pretty, mychael. i think... i think you're really attractive, if i'm gonna be honest..."

he watched as you squeezed your own eyes shut and took notice of your flushed skin, his lips pressed together nervously. he twiddled his fingers together, fidgeting again. "...y-you think i'm attractive?"

your hum in response didn't help his own blush out as his head spun watching you genuinely - genuinely, of all things, get embarrassed and now be the one to bury your head in your hands.

"oh."

he could probably cook something with the heat rushing to his face. yet, he found a silly smile make its way to his lips while his eyes gleamed with happiness.

"oh...!"

what a hell of a first date.

#ate ur heart #mushroom oasis #mo headcanons #mychael x mc #mychael x reader #headcanons #imagines #drabble #itch.io #fluff #yandere visual novel #visual novel #just 2 cute dorks blushing in a forest together #nothing else to see here

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 47

hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

Damnit, Pidge by spirkylurkey

Pidge has some top-secret-classified-don't-tell-Keith-info that she accidentally lets slip to, you guessed it, Keith. Lance is an embarrassed mess. Keith isn't faring much better, to be honest.

this one made me LAUGH the way that this all pidge's fault and she's literally like. well. you shouldn't be so gay then. and she's right!! they're so dumb i love them

2. Operation: Faking It by @writeonclara

“What the hell, guys?” Pidge squawked, wrestling away from Matt. “Why are you pretending to be a couple?” Or: Matt and Lance pretend to be a couple because Shiro and Keith are clueless as hell.

do you guys remember shatt?? i remember shatt. adashi will always have my heart but shatt will literally always be funny bc ofc thats ur fic name. anyways. this fic is mostly klance but the entire concept is just so ridiculously goofy that u have to laugh. do you like lance and matt? do you like fake relationship to real relationship? do you like inverted tropes? do you like pining? do you like comedic jealousy? then this fic is well and truly for you because it has all that and more

3. all's well that ends well to end up with you by @coruscatingcatastrophe

Keith's jacket gets ruined, so Lance decides to be a good Samaritan and give him his. This is the beginning of the end.

megan's fic literally make me want to eat cement i'm so serious. i've read and been obsessed with TONS of her stuff but this one???? this fucking one???? oh god the slowburn kills me. the blossoming realisation that oh god we've been dating this whole time huh. the CHIVALRY...............a romance novel in the truest of senses and i am going to fry

4. as long as it won't separate you from me (i'll be fine) by @coruscatingcatastrophe

A little intrigued—not that she’d ever admit it—Pidge begins to climb the stairs. But before she even reaches halfway, the door—slams shut. All on its own, or so it seems. Pidge pauses, brows creasing in confusion, as she turns to look down at her dog. “Did you see that?” she asks. Peculiarly, she notes that Bae Bae’s fur is bristled, and he growls at the door before barking twice. That’s weird. Bae Bae never growls. Turning back to the door, Pidge feels unsettled, but she tells herself not to jump to ridiculous conclusions. There’s a logical explanation for everything. Maybe there was a gust of wind from the air conditioner, or the doorframe isn’t level. Whatever it is, she’s going to figure it out. - Or, a Beetlejuice au (kind of). Pidge isn't a fan of her new house, Lance and Keith are the ghosts haunting her attic, and together they hatch a plot to convince Shiro and Adam to skedaddle out of the house. There may be demon summoning involved. But seriously, Adam. Getting your hair set on fire really isn't that bad.

HAPPY (late) HALLOWEEN!!! ive been thinking about this fic all october and finally let myself reread it. ive never loved beetlejuice more than when i read this. it's so fun!! so interesting!! pidge gets a chance to shine!! klance are so!!! the way it had the story of beetlejuice but adapted well!! im!!

5. never thought i'd see the day in my life by @coruscatingcatastrophe

But Keith has somehow gone even paler in the short amount of time he’s been at the table, and he shakes his head. “No, something is . . .” His gaze flickers back to Lance, and he’s startled to find that Keith’s eyes are purple. They’ve got to be contacts. Ridiculous. As if the mullet and gloves and personality weren’t enough. Keith pushes away from the table abruptly, looking incredibly put-off now. “I, uh—gotta go,” he mutters, before angrily gathering up the backpack he’d dropped into the chair next to him and storming out of the cafeteria. “Huh,” Hunk says. “Well, that introduction could have gone a bit better. Don’t take it personally though; sometimes Keith’s just like that.” - Or, a Twilight au starring Lance as Bella, Keith as Edward, and the rest of the Voltron gang as themselves. Lance is insufferable, Keith is awkwardly trying to figure out why Lance is the way he is, and along the way they fall in love, or something. It's probably, definitely the best love story since Twilight itself.

now ive never read twilight and i refuse to on principle. but i didn't find this one creepy and instead it was super fun and dweeby and lance is indeed a ray of sunshine, thank you megan for noticing, and it turns out when the story isn't a hetero mormon wet dream it's actually a good time!!

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

#i do the same author thing a lot huh #look it's just how i read fic okay. by author #it's easier #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #keith #keith kogane #klance #slowburn #slowburn klance #twilight au #beetlejuice au #pidge #pidge holt #pidge & keith #pidge & lance #matt #matt holt #matt & lance #shatt #longpost #fic rec #fic rec friday

[rowanwithaz]

Okay,here's something I haven't see any one say about Bakugo's apology,and this in my opinion is what made it so fucking good.

Bakugo never said it was the "Old Him" like in most apologies in shows,the person usually says something like, "But,that was the old me,I've changed," Bakugo doesn't say, " I was a dumb kid" no HE apologies,he doesn't say it was his old view's fault,that's not an excuse,that is an explanation. But,instead of shifting the blame to his old views,he apologies for what he did as the age he did it. He didn't say once, "But I'm different now" no. He says that he was and is wrong up until THAT point. Like,DAMN how gay are you Bakugo!?

People are really gonna say his character development was half assed and didn't make sense and say ENDEAVOUR'S was better. Horikoshi did so well with breaking away from the standard apologies in shows,it felt so real and genuine and the fact that Bakugo was standing in the rain with the softest look for Izuku,like,DAMN. It was so gay and beautiful.

(Like,Endeavour's was fine,it did not hit like Bakugo's though.)

I feel like a lot of people don't understand the difference in "change" and growing,Katsuki didn't "change" he grew.Sato even says that Bakugo is the same old Bakugo.

(also,look how happy and cute Izuku is to have Bakugo to train with again) In my opinion,people that have done similar things like Bakugo don't need to "change" they need to grow. Growing is becoming a better version of yourself,changing is so much different,changing in my opinion is the worst thing you could do. When you're like Bakugo GROWING is the best option,I think most people shouldn't change themselves,but should grow,because when you change yourself you aren't atoning for shit,you left that behind because you left yourself behind,the only way an apology is genuine is when you say that you did it,not the "Different You",like,sure,you could have had a different opinion back then,but that doesn't mean that you should be a different person,you should grow away from your old opinions,and the only way to do that is to admit you did it,and that you're sorry for what you did,you're not different now,you haven't changed,you've just grown to be better. I think people get change and growth mixed up,people shouldn't change,they should grow.

Wow,I really went hard on the nail with that on,eh?

Conclusion: Katsuki didn't change,he grew,he's apology was fucking amazing if you aren't illiterate,and any one who says that Endeavour's apology was better is a pick me. (I'm kinda joking...kinda)

#bakugo katsuki #bkdk #dkbk #mha #bakudeku #dekucchan #bnha #GreeNade #dekubaku #Bakudeku #I wrote a whole ass paragraph