#I took this the other day and wrote two poems to go with it and couldn’t decide which was better.. maybe this one? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

trsrina · 2 months

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valentine’s day with zerobaseone

gn reader, established relationship, fluff !! mentions of food, not proofread

jiwoong

- even after having been in a relationship with jiwoong for some time now, you still kick your feet and get all excited when you receive your yearly valentine’s surprise from him

- sends a box of chocolates and a bouquet of blue roses to your workplace in the middle of the day with a love letter in it (probably some cheesy love poem he racked his brain to come up with and feels very proud of)

- it will probably be something like “roses are red. my face is too. that only happens when i’m around you” written with crayons and decorated with silly childish stickers and doodles ,and you had to resist letting out the loudest laugh ever at that since you were still at work

other members under the cut!

zhanghao

- sorry but YOU have to ask him to be your valentine, not the other way around and you have to do it fast before anyone else (hanbin) snatches him away from you

- no but seriously he would’ve cleared out his entire schedule for that day just to spend it all with you going out just idk eating at some cute but overpriced café (don’t worry, he pays), shopping and just gossiping over some coffee

- ends the day with a night stroll at a park with your hands intertwined and swinging by your sides maybe feed some ducks you saw while chatting the night away and just giggling to each other about something silly. it was simple but meant so much to the both of you

hanbin

- this is so serious for him like no one takes valentine’s day as serious as him so he makes sure to give you princess treatment throughout the whole day

- you wake up to the sound of a grizzling pan and smelling the aroma of the breakfast he’s preparing for you and damn this man CAN cook. serves you a five course meal at 8 am in the morning with like heart-shaped pancakes and eggs like this man is not real (sorry i just love domestic hanbin)

- after breakfast, you two return to bed since you were still feeling sleepy. he cuddles you to sleep, your head buried in his chest and literally clinging onto him, him with his arms tightly wrapped around you in a comforting embrace, gently patting you to sleep as he leaves small pecks all around your face and he probably has even more stuff planned later in the day

matthew

- matthew biggest green flag. spent so long planning the perfect valentine’s date for you and surprised you with a romantic picnic at the beach. he even sets up a table and chairs for the both of you, made sure all the food was perfect

- i can envision him covering your eyes during the walk from the car to the beach then surprising you. pulls out your chair for you and pushes your hair behind your ear and when you ask why he’ll say, “just wanted to take a better look at your pretty face”

- makes you giggles at his jokes the whole time and at last, gives you a final surprise which was an adorable cake with ‘happy valentine’s day’ written on it with icing that he spent the majority of yesterday making for you (u have no idea how many times he had to redo it)

taerae

- he serenades you. that would be the most taerae thing to do like seriously. he would start planning since christmas, writing a whole love song for you, him writing and composing it for you all by himself

- he would be so nervous when the day arrives. he would take you out to a nice restaurant, surprising you with flowers and all, then when the both of you return home, he sits you down on the couch and takes out his guitar

- starts strumming and you’re like, “i don’t recognise this song?” and realises that he wrote it and it took everything in you to not start crying on the spot. serenades you with his honey-like sweet voice while looking into your eyes like a lovesick man, literally making heart eyes at you and smiling like an idiot

ricky

- sends you a text in the morning which reads, “morning, baby. happy valentine’s day. i reserved a table at xxx restaurant for us at 6 pm. i’ll pick you up at 5:30 pm. i love you.”

- the moment you receive that text you start giggling and kicking your feet while burying your face into your pillow, only ricky can make you feel this way.

- you dress up for him and the moment you see him, he’s leaning against his car in a button up with the first few buttons unbuttoned and a huge bouquet of flowers. holds your hand the whole time, during the ride and dinner, listens intently to all of your rambling during the whole of dinner and also pays !!! (bc he’s young and rich)

gyuvin

- rings your doorbell enthusiastically with flowers and gifts dressed in his best attire, fixing his hair every few seconds to make sure he looks perfect for you. shyly hands you the bouquet he arranged himself when you open the door

- he would drag you to a dog café for your date and he’s most likely even more excited about this than you, just looking at the bright grin on his face and the giggles he lets out while he plays with the puppies makes a smile appear on your face too

- would probably point at every dog and says it looks like you because it’s cute just like you. no but imagine you guys sharing a pasta together and accidentally recreating the lady and tramp scene omg

gunwook

- bowling date with gunwook omg okay his jaw will literally drop the moment he sees you arrive all dressed up like he thinks you’re drop dead gorgeous and won’t stop giggling and blushing every time he glances at you

- pays for everything and takes the chance to show up his skills in bowling. coolest guy ever just the way he confidently strikes the bowling pins with the bowling ball but gets so shy and blush when you cheer for him and compliment him

- and when you’re getting food together at a restaurant, he would not stop staring at you. his head propped up on his hand as he stares at you hopelessly, utterly lost in your eyes and down bad. type to wipe your mouth for you when you have something in the corner of your lips.

yujin

- your first valentine’s day together so he would be so anxious about it and shy. he would make sure everything goes smoothly and plans it all out like buying tickets to that movie you said you wanted to watch in advance and making reservations for a restaurant you mentioned you wanted to visit before (most likely the first time he ever made a reservation by himself in his lifetime)

- takes you to the movies and insists on paying for your popcorn and drinks. probably watching some cheesy romcom together and since it’s valentine’s day, you’re surrounded with couples which just makes him even shyer

- holds your hand and whispers silly comments about the movie in your ear throughout the movie. he couldn’t focus at all because you were right beside him

short little valentine’s headcanons that i rushed to make it on time 😓

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lemons4u · 8 months

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Hello, Pri! How are you? If you're ok w/ it, may I have the anemo boys with a s/o who enjoys seating on their lap? (Sfw)

notes ! OKAY THIS LITERALLY TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO ANSWER, so i’m really sorry 😭 and also i’m doing great thank you! also not proofread (my grammar is a little bad anyways so)

warnings ! fluff, heizou’s part is suggestive

v e n t i

he loves it when you sit on his lap! it gives him a nice a sense of comfort… to have you so close to him.

he also thinks it adorable lmao.

IMAGINE.

sitting in his lap while you both are out at the statue of seven at windrise— he’s putting windwheel asters in your hair as you read to him or something.

or maybe he’ll hum a tune for you!

it’s depends what he’s feelings like :3

“your hair is looking beautiful today, hehe..” venti cooed, tucking yet another flower in your hair.

“hmmh..” he pressed a delicate kiss to your temple. “no thank you?” he asked with a grin.

“no.” you reply, continuing to read your book.

“hmph. are you really going to treat your darling boyfriend like this?” he pouted before smiling again.

“yeah.”

“your so mean to me.”

x i a o

xiao gets a bit (very) flustered, the poor guy isn’t used to all of these acts of affection :<

the first time you asked he was like.

“you… wanna sit on my lap?” he’s adorable, oh my god.

IMAGINE.

sitting out on like a hill or smth, idk, watching the stars— on xiao’s lap.

it’s a really cute a wholesome thing that both of you (i’m assuming) like to do.

it’s usually really quiet, unless xiao decides to tell you about his day.

“i spoke a little with the traveller today.” he murmured, fiddling with your hair.

“aw.. you did?” you tilted your head.

xiao didn’t really speak to anyone aside from you, so it made you happy when your boyfriend finally decides to speak with someone.

“about what though?”

“about you.. the traveller wanted to ask you some questions— but i told them i could answer them instead.” he said dully.

“i could’ve answered them myself..” you mutter.

“i know that… but i felt like talking about you at that moment.”

you laugh a little. “oh really? you wanted to speak about me?”

“yes… i mean you are my s/o right? i can speak about you… unless you don’t want me to?”

“no! it’s fine if you wanna talk about me…”

“are you… sure?”

“yes i’m sure!”

k a z u h a

he’s like venti, he loves when you sit on his lap :3

maybe he’d be a little surprised at first, but he doesn’t object.

IMAGINE.

the two of you sitting out on the crux, watching the sunset reflect on the ocean. (idk)

you could be reading a poem he wrote to you— or you could just genuinely be talking to each other.

either way it’s adorable.

“kazuuu.. this poem is adorable.” you coo, smiling fondly at the piece he dedicated to you.

“is it? i really don’t think it’s all that good.. compared to my other poems.”

“nono! it is! i absolutely love this one..” you say in defense.

“oh…? i thought it was a bit… um.. corny?” kazuha said with a laugh.

“well it’s not… i think it’s quite lovely.” you cross your arms.

“whatever you say, love…” he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“whatever you say..”

h e i z o u

he finds a way to tease you for it… like this man literally will not stop teasing you when you ask him to sit on his lap.

when you first ask him he’s like this though…

“oh? you wanna sit on my lap?” he grinned at you.

“how could i ever deny such a request?” he cooed.

“but… may i ask why you wanna sit on my lap?”

he’s got a very dirty mind so like… um, just be aware.

IMAGINE.

sitting on his lap while he works on his cases or smth, idk.

i actually hc he rushes through his work, so like he always makes mistakes.

but then you, his beautiful s/o, can help him fix them!

(he 100% makes mistakes on purpose)

“mmhhm..” heizou arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his body.

he craved to feel your body against his.

“you… made a mistake over here..” your murmur, circling it so he could fix it later.

“oh? did i? my, my… i’ve been making so many mistakes recently.” he smiled innocently.

“maybe you should doublecheck my papers, just in case.”

that… was just excuse to have on his lap for even longer. ( he probably wants it and likes more than you do )

“i’m already double checking them.”

“hmm… triple check?”

“heizou.”

“hehe..”

w a n d e r / s c a r a m o u c h e

“no.”

was the only thing you heard when you first asked scara.

you would just have to beg then.

IMAGINE.

whining and complaining to scara about literally just sitting on his lap—

it was a small thing, really, but were you just going to let it go? nope.

“pleaseee scara! all the other couples do it!” you pout, furrowing your eyebrows at him.

“yeah… and i’m not like those other couples.” he responded coldly.

“arghh.. you suck.” you whine, flopping down on the bed.

“hmph..” he crossed his arms.

“you are making such a big deal. it’s really nothing major.”

“to me it is.” you frown.

there’s a moment of silence before a idea pops up in your head, it was probably a bad one… but whatever!

“i bet any other guy would let me..” you sigh, almost dreamily.

“what?”

“mhm.. like childe…”

you were answered by silence once again.. scaramouche was just staring out, arms crossed with a unreadable expression.

“fine then.”

before you knew scaramouche rushed to the bed beside you— tackling you into his lap.

“your gonna stay here now.”

“but..”

“nuh uh.”

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ilovepedro · 8 months

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Yellow | joel miller x f!reader

Summary: You and Joel take a well-deserved vacation to the secluded countryside of Texas. Unbeknownst to you, Joel has a special surprise up his sleeve.

Word count: ~3.7k (oopsies)

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: no outbreak AU (Sarah is alive and well, but she isn’t in this), established relationship, smut like lots of it, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected PIV (wrap it up y’all), overstimulation, soft!joel (idc if he’s OOC, i love that big ol’ softie), so much fluff, hella petnames (baby, darlin, babydoll, honey), reader is female, but has no physical description. NO USE OF Y/N

A/N: this is my first time writing any sort of fanfiction with a developed brain lol. i’ve had this idea for a while since Joel’s been rotting my brain for the past year-ish. i'm also a big fan of Pablo Neruda and i was reading some of his poems while listening to my love song playlist so i was feeling sappy lol. this is based on one of my favorite love songs, Yellow by Coldplay. feel free to listen while you read! shoutout to @gracieheartsspedro for your kind words and for giving me the confidence boost to post 🩷 and thank you to all of y’all for being so sweet to me and welcoming me here with open arms <3

star banner by @benkeibear 🌟

Look at the stars

Look how they shine for you

And everything you do

Yeah, they were all yellow

“Dance with me, honey.” The strumming guitar intro to Yellow by Coldplay flutters through the speaker and invades the cool evening breeze as the sun sets. The moon and stars begin to peek through the cotton candy skies. Joel holds his hand out to you as the two of you unwind in the field behind the remote Texas lake house you two are staying at for the week. A long overdue vacation for the both of you, you’ve spent your last full day basking in the refreshing water of the lake, seeking relief from the brutal Texas summer sun.

You gladly take his hand, flashing him a saccharine smile as you intertwine your fingers with his. “Joel Miller, ever the charmer,” you say as he wraps an arm around your waist. He hides his face in the crook of your neck, bashful like a schoolboy. Your stomach flutters as he still manages to give you butterflies after 3 years of being with him. He quietly rasps the lyrics in your ear.

I came along

I wrote a song for you

He lifts his head up to meet your gaze, matching the saccharine look that adorns your face. His heart is so full, so overwhelmed with how much he loves you. You’ve turned him into a sap, but he wouldn’t change a thing. “You’re so damn beautiful, baby. ‘M almost the luckiest man in the world.” You quirk your brow, a curious smirk lacing your features. “Almost?”

And all the things you do

And it was called Yellow

He twirls you with a smile, eliciting a giggle from you. His chest blooms with warmth - a mixture of bliss and nerves. He twirls you one more time, your head thrown back as you let out a hearty laugh. Suddenly, he’s down on one knee holding the most beautiful ring before he loses his confidence to ask you the most important question of your lives. You turn back to him, a gasp escaping your lungs as tears well in your eyes.

So then I took my turn

Oh what a thing to have done

And it was all yellow

“Almost, darlin’, ‘cause you’ll make me the luckiest man in the world after this. You know me better than anyone, darlin’, so ya know ‘m no good at this type of stuff, but I hope you know that I’ll do anything for you, baby. I didn’t expect to find my other half that day we met. Was just tryna get my coffee and go ‘cause I didn’t wanna be late. But, god, you looked so damn cute in that pretty blue sweater. Most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. So beautiful you distracted me and I spilled my coffee all over ya. ‘M glad I did though, ‘r else I wouldn’t’ve taken ya out to dinner to make it up to you. Ended up bein’ late anyway, but I’d be late everyday if it meant seein’ your pretty lil’ smile. You make me wanna be a better man ‘n I hope ‘m everything you could ever want ‘cause ‘s what you are to me. You're the best partner, best woman, best momma. You’re the best momma to Sarah, honey. Can’t thank ya enough for lovin’ her as your own. You make her, us, me, so goddamn happy, baby. I’d be a damn fool if I didn’t put a ring on your pretty little finger, honey. Shit, ‘m one for not doing this sooner. Thank you for lovin’ me and bein’ so patient with my stubborn ass. I know I ain’t easy to deal with. My knees are killin’ me though, baby, so I got a real important question for you: will you marry me, darlin’?”

Your skin, oh yeah your skin and bones

Turn into something beautiful

And you know, you know I love you so

You know I love you so

You’re smiling so hard your face hurts. Tears cascading down your face, which you don’t realize until you taste the salty water on your lips. “Yes, Joel,” you unintentionally whisper, Joel having knocked the air from your lungs. His smile grows wider. He gently slips the ring on your left ring finger. You lean down to kiss him, but he meets you halfway as he goes to stand. He cups your cheeks in his large, warm hands with your hands encompassing his. Pressing a deep kiss to one another’s lips, a kiss full of warmth, life, love - a promise of forever.

“Joel, baby,” you say as you pull away, hands still resting atop his while he delicately holds you. Your voice is wobbly as you’re still silently crying. You’re rendered speechless for the first time in your life. Your heart has never felt this full. You’ve never felt so alive, so complete. “I love you so much. I can’t even put it into words. You’re everything to me and more. I’d be honored to be your wife.” He smiles, tears gleam in his eyes. Joel Miller, the serious, gruff man, is in tears - because of you; a side only reserved for you.

I swam across

I jumped across for you

Oh, what a thing to do

‘Cause you were all yellow

“I meant every word, baby. Every word in that song ‘s true too. ‘S why it’s our song. The stars shine for you, but I think you’re prettier ‘an all the stars in the sky.” He pulls you in for another kiss, just as saccharine as the previous one. You’re both smiling into it. You hum as you pull away. “Baby, what’re you talking about you’re ‘no good at this type of stuff,’ Joel Miller, you’re a poet,” you laugh as you playfully question him. He throws his head back, a belly laugh escaping him. He smiles even bigger as he spots a twinkle in your eye. “Only for you, darlin’.” He moves his hands to your waist again, holding one of your hands in his as he leads you into a dance again. The big, cheesy smiles never leave your faces. Placing your free hand on his shoulder, the two of you sway to the music.

I drew a line, I drew a line for you

Oh, what a thing to do

And it was all yellow

“Forever,” you whisper as you press your nose against his while he sways you both side to side. “Forever,” he repeats. Another kiss is pressed to your lips, a hungrier one, a combination of love and lust. He releases your hand to cup the back of your head while he pulls you in by waist, bringing you closer. You throw your arms around his sturdy middle - the kiss deepens. He licks into your mouth, eliciting a soft moan from you. “Take me to bed, Joel,” you huskily whisper. “Anything for my wife.” You beam at his words. “Not your wife, honey.” “Yet, darlin’. Yet.”

The moon peeks through the window, casting a cool glow on the entire room. The crisp late night breeze ripples the curtains hanging on the window the two of you mindlessly left open as you devoured one another earlier in the evening.

You stir, groggy as you’re awoken by the familiar dull ache in between your legs. Feeling a heavy, but comforting weight on your torso, you turn gently so as to not wake him. Now facing him,Joel’s arm still holds you flushed against his chest.

It’s the middle of the night, the bedside clock flashes 3:30 in small fluorescent blue lights. Both of you spent, as the events of the day having wiped you two out. He slowly, but deliciously wrecked your cunt twice, once with his mouth and once with his cock, before you both drifted off to sleep. He’s still sleeping. He is so beautiful. I’m so lucky.

His plush lips slightly parted as he softly snores. His full lashes lightly kiss his cheeks. Brows pulled into his infamous furrow. You carefully brush the curve of his strong nose, which you rode into the midnight hour, with your left hand. The moonlight catches a glimpse of the ring he gave you just hours ago. A delicate gold band adorning a diamond, 2 smaller stones surrounding it.

Your skin, oh yeah, your skin and bones

Turn into something beautiful

And you know, for you, I’d bleed myself dry

For you, I’d bleed myself dry

Tears well in your eyes as you recall his proposal from the evening. Your heart overflows with content as you admire the man in front of you. You get to fall asleep and wake up like this for the rest of your lives. He is my forever. You softly caress his face, careful not to wake him. Alas, your attempt fails.

Joel begins to stir while you continue to caress his patchy beard as you internally dwell on the thought of being his for eternity. Stretching his taut tan muscles, groaning as he does so. “Ya watchin’ me sleep, babydoll? How long ya been awake?” A sleepy smile creeps onto his face.

“I’m just admiring my gorgeous fiancé’s face. And not very long, only about 5 minutes,” you sigh. His sleepy smile morphs into a toothy grin. “Oh really? I’m sure he can’t be nearly as gorgeous as mine. She’s the most beautiful woman in the world. Your fiancé is a lucky man, honey.” He leans in to press a sleepy kiss to your lips, the two of you smiling into it. It’s soft and sweet, lingering like honey sticking to your lips.

It’s true

Look how they shine for you

He moves his hand from your torso to the back of your head, grasping your hair, deepening the kiss. He pulls you closer, completely flushed against his bare chest. The dull ache in between your legs blooms with desire, transforming into a throbbing need. You moan as his hardening length presses against your exposed cunt. Neither of you bothered to dress before falling asleep.

The kiss grows sloppy as he licks into your mouth, teeth clashing together. You break apart gasping for air. “Joel,” you breathlessly moan as he kisses down your neck and shuffles the two of you so you’re pinned under him. He sucks onto that sensitive spot on your neck near your ear. The spot which he knows drives you crazy.

“Joel,” you moan louder this time. It comes out more desperate than you intended. “Be a good girl and use your words, baby.” He’s so fucking smug, he drives you insane. “Need you, baby. N-need you so bad, Joel,” you gasp as he makes his way down to your breasts.

He hums, sucking a nipple into your mouth as he gropes your other breast, rolling your nipple in between his calloused fingers. “F-fuck, baby. Feels, ah, s-so good,” you say as you arch your back, granting him even more access to your breasts. He moans at your praise, the vibration of it sending shockwaves down your spine to your weeping cunt. Kissing his way down your tummy and finally making his way to where you need him most. Your exposed cunt aches for him to do something - anything.

He hooks both your legs over his shoulders as he kneels off the edge of the bed. He presses soft kisses and nips to your thighs, actively avoiding your throbbing clit. His scruffy beard scratches your thighs, causing more arousal to pool at your sex. Every teasing kiss causes your clit to twitch. He sees it, you know he can, but he continues to act oblivious. You writhe under his touch, growing frustrated as your body yearns for some sort of relief.

“Joel, please, n-no more teas - hmph - teasing” you whine, clearly exasperated. He chuckles at your neediness. “So needy, babydoll. Already fucked your cunt twice last night ‘n you still want more?” “Yes, Joel,” you beg, desperate tears begin to pool in your eyes. “Always want more. Always want you,” you cry out. You quickly see something soften in his eyes, but it disappears just as fast. “Always want you too, darlin’. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of ya. Always do, don’t I?”

Before you could answer, he licks a stripe up your folds, his nose nudging at your clit. Gasping at the relief of finally feeling something, you involuntarily buck your hips up into his face. He places one of his large hands and pushes you back down, the pressure on your stomach causing a new pool of desire to drip from your pussy. You can’t control the moans leaving your lips as he flicks his tongue against your twitching clit. “Joel, f-fuck oh my god, Joel,” you cry out, tugging on his hair.

Your hair tugging elicits a moan from him, the rumble of it causing you to shiver. He eats you out like a starved man, as if he wasn’t doing this just barely 4 hours ago. “Joel, n-need more. P-please, baby.” Obliging your request, he inserts one finger deep inside your pussy, drawing out a high pitched moan from you. He could always reach places you never could, his fingers much larger and thicker than yours.

“Sweetest fuckin’ pussy in the world, baby. My favorite meal,” he says as he inserts another finger into you. Another mewl escapes your lips. He returns his tongue to your clit, relentlessly flicking it. He feels your walls begin to flutter around his fingers as he curls his fingers, hitting your g-spot.

“Right there, Joel! Oh, f-fuck yes, baby.” It sounds obscene as he slurps up your slick while pumping his thick fingers deep into your squelching pussy. You feel light as a feather as your orgasm approaches. “‘s it, baby. Cum for me. Can feel ya squeezing my fingers. Come on, babydoll. Make a mess on my fingers.” He sucks your clit into his mouth causing your orgasm to crash into you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you seize up under his hold, endless moans streaming from your lips.

Lapping at your pussy, he drinks up all of your cum, letting no drop go to waste. He pulls away, giving you a brief moment of relief. The pale moonlight shines onto him, as if he were some sort of deity from above. He is - he is your saving grace.

He pulls himself up and slots his hips between yours. He teases your wet folds by rubbing his hard, pulsating cock up and down against them, slathering himself in the fresh new wave of slick that runs down your weeping cunt. Pre-cum dribbles from his angry, red tip, smearing over your folds. Without warning, he shoves his cock deep into your pussy in one thrust, buried to the hilt.

“Oh fuck Joel! S-so fucking big, so, shit, so deep.” “You can take it, baby. Ya always do.” His pace is brutal, his thick cock brutally kissing your cervix with each thrust. He hikes your legs up, placing your ankles on his shoulders, practically bending you in half. You scream at the new position. You’re so loud, you’re thankful there are no neighbors around here. He’s always so deliciously deep, you’ll never get used to it.

He picks up the pace, your thighs begin to burn and your cunt still aches from being stuffed repeatedly. The line between pain and pleasure blurs, but you feel so damn good. Tears begin to fall from your eyes as you clamp down on him. The pornographic sounds of moans, pants, and your squelching cunt fill the room. You’re already so close as you had no time to come down from your first orgasm.

“Fuck, darlin’. Ya hear that? Hear how fuckin’ wet ya are for me? Feel so fuckin’ good. Can’t believe I get to have this tight little pussy for the rest of my life. ‘S mine. All mine. Can’t wait til, ah, til you’re my pretty little wife.” He groans, as you clench around him. His words spurring you on. “‘S yours, Joel. ‘M yours, all yours, baby,” you manage to slur out. He’s close, you can tell as his thrusts get sloppier. “Come on, baby, gimme another. Need to feel you soak my cock.”

He licks the pad of his thumb and swirls it on your clit. You tumble over the cliff and plummet into your second orgasm. His cock, his fingers, his words, him. It’s all too much. You feel him everywhere. Your vision flashes hot white. The burning coil in your belly snaps as you come undone. A guttural moan escapes from deep within your chest. “Oh fuck, Joel! I’m gonna, ah, ‘m cumming,” you squeal from under him with your eyes rolling back again. You’re cumming again, hard, soaking his cock just like he asked. “Atta girl, baby. Good girl,” he rasps as he fucks you through the waves of your second orgasm. You’re squeezing him so tight you nearly push him out.

His pace is still relentless, not giving you time to come down from your second high. Suddenly, you’re being flipped around as Joel rolls you over him. He lays on his back with you now on top. The new angle has him even deeper than before, if that’s even possible. His cock immediately hits your g-spot again. A choked cry falls from your lips while you try to brace yourself on his broad, sturdy chest.

“‘M close, baby. Fuck, ya feel so fuckin’ good. Cum for me one more time, baby.” His breath is ragged now. You’re a babbling mess as he continues to fuck up into you. “I got you, baby. Just gimme one more. Come on, be a good girl and gimme one last one, babydoll.” He’s fucking up into you hard and fast, his thrusts growing sloppier than ever as he nears his orgasm.

“Baby, I-I can’t,” you hiccup. “Yes, ya can, darlin’. You’re so close, can feel ya clenching ‘round me again. Let go, baby. I got you.” He sits up and pulls you closer, you’re completely flushed against his strong chest now. He wipes your stray tears, his tenderness sends you crashing into your third and final orgasm - one more orgasm than last night. He’s so rough, but so gentle with you at the same time.

A drawn out high-pitched moan escapes you once again, eyes squeezed shut while mewling his name as you clench around him. “Fuck, Joel!” Your soul disappears from your body, floating around somewhere along with your brain. Joel, Joel, Joel being the only thought in your head as his name repeatedly streams from your lips - like a prayer.

He grunts and fucks up into you with three more thrusts before he comes undone. A loud, guttural moan escapes from his lips. He’s babbling as he’s shooting his load into you. “Fuck! ‘S it, honey! Take it, baby, take it! Good girl, shit, fuck, Jesus Christ!” You feel his cum coat your walls as he fills you up. There’s so much cum, it’s dripping from your swollen, wrecked cunt. Joel buries his face in the crook of your neck as you both pant, grappling with reality as you both come down from your highs.

He places tender kisses on your shoulder. Both of you are sticky with salty sweat, the periwinkle moonlight beaming into the room now. You feel a soft kiss brush against your cheek, causing your eyes to flutter open.

“Hi,” he huskily whispers with a gentle smile. “Hi,” you say with a bashful grin, biting your bottom lip while you return back down to Earth. Staring at each other with the same hazy, fucked out gaze, he crashes his lips to yours, lazily kissing you. You taste yourself on his tongue as he languidly slips it into your mouth.

He sighs as you part to lift yourself off him, both of you hissing at the loss of one another. Worry laces his features as you settle on the bed beside him, laying down on his chest. His rapid heartbeat slowly returning to a steady thrum, grounding you back in the present. “You feel okay, baby? Didn’t hurt you, did I?” How on Earth you got so lucky, you’ll never know.

Your gaze softens once more, reaching out to caress his cheek. “I feel absolutely amazing, Joel. You could never hurt me, baby.” He gingerly kisses your palm. Steady breathing and comfortable silence fill the air - postcoital bliss settling amongst you two.

He toys with the ring on your finger as his strong arm rests on your torso, engrossing you in his embrace. “You’re gonna be my wife,” he says as he smiles at you, disbelief and contentment lacing his voice. Love filling his eyes to the brim, just like his heart. Tears well in your eyes once more as you fully drink him in. You’re so full of love and happiness, there is nowhere else for your emotions to go except flowing down your cheeks. Something that happens often as you feel things deeply within your heart. It’s one of the things he loves most about you. “Jus’ means you got lots ‘a love to give in that big ol’ heart ‘a yours, baby,” he once told you.

“I am. There’s nothing more I want in this world than to be your wife.” And that’s the real honest truth. Joel Miller loves hard - particularly you. His tenderness is only reserved for you and Sarah - his girls. You never expected to fall just as hard for him. You only ever heard of this type of love in romance novels; only dreamt of it. Somehow, he managed to tumble his way into your heart that day, literally, when he spilled his coffee on you that fateful morning. Before him, you never fathomed the thought of experiencing a love like this.

He has served you the world and more on a silver platter. His love is the warm sunshine that envelopes you on a beautiful spring day. It is the forest fire that roars higher when you fan the flames, engulfing you in his heart. Joel Miller is the color yellow, his love burning brighter than the stars in the sky. As you love him hard, he loves you harder. To be loved by him for eternity is the greatest gift anyone could ever receive. As long as you live, his love will never die, for you carry it in your heart, everywhere you go.

Look at the stars

Look how they shine for you

And all the things that you do

some moot tags: @nostalxgic @undrthelights @darkroastjoel @pedrospartner @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @modernperplexity @mrsquill @breakfastatjoels @tinygarbage @sin-djarin @jenispunk 🩵

this was so fun to write! got a little sappy at the end, i told y’all i was in my feelings when i wrote this 🤣 i truly do love writing, i just get very in my head about everything. may or may not already be working on a meet-cute prequel for these two 🫣 hope y’all enjoyed this and thank y’all for reading! <3

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller #joel miller tlou #soft!joel miller #joel miller one shot #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #fic: yellow #one shot: yellow #yellow coldplay

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colleendoran · 1 year

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The Secret Language of a Page of Chivalry: The Pre-Raphaelite Connection

Adapting Neil Gaiman’s Chivalry is a decades-long dream fulfilled. The story as text can be enjoyed on multiple levels, and so can the art. You look at the pages and see the pretty pictures, but the pictures also have meta-textual meaning. Knowing this secret language adds to the experience.

Some people pick up the references quickly, but I’ll share with you some more of what’s going on under the surface.

In Ye Olden Days of Art Making, most painters made pictures that contained visual narrative cues. Flowers in a picture might be heraldic signs that signaled political affiliations, or could indicate purity, anger, or love. Purple was the color of kings. A dog in a picture might represent faithfulness, and butterflies could represent the soul.

There are Pre-Raphaelite paintings with so many symbols and ideas in them that you need a deep working knowledge of Victorian and Edwardian social mores to understand what’s going on.

For example, Ford Madox Brown’s Work, a painting which took some 13 years to complete, was first exhibited in 1865 with a catalogue explaining all its symbols and elements. There is nothing in that picture that doesn’t mean something.

I brought some of that visual meta-textual sensibility to Chivalry, (and I’ve written about the symbolism and meanings in the work in other essays.)

I also brought into the work direct Pre-Raphaelite art references.

From 1868-1870, Sir Edward Coley Burne-Jones created four paintings illuminating the tale of Pygmalion and Galatea, entitled Pygmalion and the Image, and wrote a poem with each line titling one painting:

The heart desires

The hand refrains

The godhead fires

The soul attains.

A perfect little poem for Chivalry, and I think of it often when some people present me with what I think is a very strange question: why didn’t Galaad just take the Holy Grail from Mrs. Whitaker?

It kind of breaks my heart that people would even ask that.

Burne-Jones painted two versions of this series of which this is the second.

In the first panel of this page, Sir Galaad kneeling before the Grail is derived from the figure of Pygmalion kneeling before Galatea: The Soul Attains.

Sir Galaad’s restraint even in the face of his greatest desire makes him worthy of his prize.

There are two Pre-Raphalite references in this page, the most obvious being in panel 2: it’s Sir John Everett Millais’s 1857 work A Dream of the Past: Sir Isumbras at the Ford.

The painting was very poorly received on first exhibition, compelling Millais to redo significant portions of it. It was caricatured and ridiculed, and then ended up becoming influential and popular, and isn’t that the way it goes.

That’s an art career in a nutshell, really.

The Sir Isumbras image also influenced John Tenniel’s illustrations for the Lewis Carroll Alice in Wonderland novels.

Sir Isumbras derives from a 13th century Medieval romance poem about a good knight whose pride causes him to fail in his Christian duty. He is presented with a series of difficult challenges before he can find happiness again, reunite with his family, and be forgiven his sins. The painting by Millais is based less explicitly on the poem than it is on a later parody of the poem. (It’s complicated.)

My using Sir Isumbras as the base for the shot of Galaad with the children is obvious here. In the Millais painting, Sir Isumbras carries a woodcutter’s children across the ford. In Chivalry, Sir Galaad carries the children of Mrs. Whitaker’s neighborhood down the street.

While Sir Isumbras spent many years learning humility and Christian duty, Galaad has a long quest to fulfill before he can achieve his goal. And on the way to that goal, he’s humble and nice to children, too.

That the Millais painting was such a huge influence on many a depiction of knighthood over the years made it a perfect reference point here, and the story behind both the painting and the poem give it further layers of meaning.

The next panel has a far less obvious reference, but the source is Arthur Hughes’s painting The Rescue.

Arthur Hughes is one of the lesser-known Pre-Raphaelites, but his art is widely seen and influential. He’s certainly been a big influence on me, as many of his paintings appear again and again in Arthuriana references, as he was a prolific King Arthur picture tale teller.

The Rescue (1907-1908) was originally part of a diptych which was separated and sold back in the 1920’s. His style was becoming unpopular by the time Hughes painted the work, and little is known about this work except that one panel was in the collection of Andrew Lloyd Webber at some point. Maybe still is. Dunno.

Anyway, the diptych depicts a little child kneeling in prayer menaced by a dragon in one panel, and in the next, safely trotting away with a knight on horseback. I like that this is a diptych, a kind of proto-comic art form common in medieval religious art, so this was perfect to use here.

Another reference to Arthur Hughes is in this double page splash from later in the book as Galaad on his quest encounters the Hesperides.

I didn’t set out to reference this Arthur Hughes piece at first, but it’s one of my favorite paintings. When I realized my sketches for this scene kept echoing the Hughes composition, I went with it. The Hughes painting of Galahad is one of the most famous depictions of the character, so it makes me happy to have this referenced in Chivalry.

Kindly ask for CHIVALRY, published by Dark Horse Comics in the USA and by Headline Books in the UK at your local comic shops or bookstore. Written by Neil Gaiman. Adaptation and art by me.

For further reading on this project, go HERE.

HERE.

And HERE.

Thank you to my Patreon patrons for sponsoring my work and this post.

Colleen Doran Illustrates Neil Gaiman will be a solo exhibit at the Society of Illustrators in New York City this spring. Watch this space for updates.

Have a wonderful holiday season.

#neil gaiman #dark horse comics #king arthur #Sir Galahad #Comics #graphic novel #fantasy graphic novel #watercolor #pre raphaelite #pre raphaelism

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kohabielnin · 2 months

Text

Valentine Day Headcanons

I know it took me a while to do this, as classes make it a little difficult for me, this is another gift for someone very special to me, the @kaval0 💕

Norton Campbell

• Incredible as it may seem, he remembered the date and was prepared days before as he saw the children arranging things to give gifts to those they like,

• Everyone in the mansion was surprised when he handed you a flower and chocolates,

• Naib stole some chocolates just to tease Norton, as usual,

• His embarrassed look when he handed you the chocolates was really cute,

• Both Melly, Frederick and Alice wondered if he was actually sick,

• In general, no one in the mansion expected Norton to give you chocolates

Ronald of Ness

• He closed the theater so he could have time with just you,

• I always saw this skin as one of Norton's most romantic skins because he's an actor,

• This man is not very good at cooking, so the one who helped him with everything was Lady Truth,

• He compares you all the time to flowers, especially roses,

• For a whole day, you can wear his hat and mask,

• He called Mr. Inference to boast that he had company on Valentine's Day...

Naib Subedar

• You two ate the chocolates together, it was cute according to witnesses,

• He worked hard to make the chocolates and even harder not to eat them 💕

• Norton played little a with Naib, but he didn't care and ignored Norton,

• He was a little shy when it came to handing over the chocolate, as he had never done it before,

• Eli helped him have the courage to go talk to you and Brooke watched so Naib didn't give up halfway,

• Spending Valentine's Day with him was definitely a lot of fun

Morningstar

• He made his servants make a feast just for you,

• He just loves spoiling you, whether it's a holiday or just a regular day,

• There isn't a day that goes by that he doesn't say he loves you out of fear of losing you,

• He made you a crown similar to his as a gift,

• He himself searched the entire kingdom for the most beautiful rose so he could give it to you,

• In general, Morningstar is a sweet, beautiful, perfect and sweetheart

Orpheus

• This man simply wrote the most romantic poem you've ever seen in your life, along with flowers and chocolate,

• Guess who had a pinky in the middle of one of the letters you received? Exactly, Little Girl,

• You two had a great day together,

• He took the day to listen to you talk about the books you like while giving your opinion about them too,

• He is very good with words, so sometimes he would say something or other to embarrass you, like a compliment in French that he learned from Frederick,

• There was no shortage of tea and cookies in the afternoon for you two

Bonus due to our zap/discord ship in which I am Frederick

Frederick Kreiburg

• Ok... you woke up hearing him playing your favorite song on the piano,

• If you ask him about this, you will only hear: "I feel like playing this song", with an indifferent pose as always,

• On the coffee table, there is a plate with some strawberries covered in chocolate and a handmade letter from him,

• He has a slight difficulty being romantic, but his small acts show that he cares a lot about you,

• He won't mind spending the day playing the piano for you if you wish,

• If you don't want him to spend the day playing the piano for you, he won't mind taking you somewhere relaxing with few people

#identity v x reader #naib subedar x reader #norton campbell x reader #ithaqua morningstar #ithaqua x reader #orpheus idv x reader #norton campbell ronald of ness

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yuutasdream · 2 months

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Hello, cool event! I hope it is still open :)

Hobbies: Going on walks, stargazing, playing games, drawing and writing poetry.

Characters: Yuta or Toge

Btw the aesthetics of your blog are beautiful!

It was supposed to be a friendly outing, just the two of you. But somehow, you found yourself lying on a blanket under the stars, his arms around you, his lips on yours. You felt a surge of emotion that you couldn't deny. You kissed him back, softly, tenderly, letting him know how you felt. You didn't want this night to end. The next day, you wrote him a poem expressing your gratitude and your hope for more. You sealed it with a kiss, leaving a faint mark of your lipstick. You slipped it into his bag, hoping he would find it soon. You didn't have to wait long though. He called you that afternoon, his voice full of joy and excitement. He said he loved your poem, and he wanted to see you again. He asked you out for another date, this time with no ambiguity. You agreed, feeling butterflies in your stomach. You met him at the park, where he greeted you with a hug and a kiss. He took your hand and led you to a picnic spot, where he had prepared a basket of food and drinks. He looked into your eyes and said, "I have something to ask you." He took a deep breath and continued, "Will you be my partner? I want to be with you, and only you." You smiled and nodded. Then you kissed him again, feeling his love and warmth. And you knew this was the beginning of a wonderful relationship.

Toge had invited you to the arcade for a fun date, and you happily agreed. You spent hours playing games, laughing and teasing each other. He was so sweet and attentive, always letting you choose the next game and holding your hand as you walked around. You felt a warm flutter in your chest every time he smiled at you.

When the arcade closed, he offered to walk you home. You enjoyed the cool breeze and the starry sky as you chatted about everything you had in mind. He made you feel comfortable and happy, like you could be yourself around him.

As you reached your doorstep, he gave you a hug and thanked you for the wonderful time. You looked into his eyes and saw a spark of something more. He leaned in slowly and pressed his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back, feeling a surge of emotion. He pulled away after a few seconds and smiled shyly. “I hope we can do that again..” you smiled back and felt your cheeks heat up. “just call me, I'm always ready for such wonderful dates”

Event status: closed

Thank you for joining 🤍

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aerkame · 1 year

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Hi, I hope you're having a wonderful day!!!! How would Wally and the others in your Alive AU react if Reader had a coworker or friend that was romantically interested in them? Would they just get really clingy or even aggressive, especially considering they're confined inside the house?

I am! I went skating for a long while outside and got a Starscream model kit to put together later. :) (Short fic takes place in the Alive AU)

Jealous! Everyone x reader

__________________________________________________________

It started with flowers. One day out of the blue you had came home with a huge bouquet of beautiful roses. Julie was the first to ask where you got them, they were just so pretty! You told them it was from a coworker at the public library, he was really polite and gave you these roses as a gift...you were blind to say the least, not seeing it as a romantic gesture. But the romantic gift did not go unnoticed by your colorful guests.

Poppy told you she was already preparing dinner for tonight which was a relief honestly, you felt exhausted. Two pairs of arms pulled you close for a hug, recognizing them as Julie and Sally, the two hyper sunshines of your life. "Hey there host, we reeeeaaallly wanna show you something!" Julie was practically jumping with joy while Sally let go to grab something, coming back with a stereo to play music on. The two put on a dance that almost resulted in a vase being broken, but Barnaby's soft paws were there to catch it just in time.

"How about we all dance together?" Barnaby gave you a warm smile, he always knew how to warm your heart. Holding out his paw you took hold of it, joining in the dance with the three goofballs.

During dinner, Poppy came up to you with a delicious looking small cake and placed it right in front of you. "I made you some dessert deary, eat up!" You looked down confused "But what about the others?" However, when you looked back at the table everyone had already gone to do their own activities (or so you assumed) and Poppy just sat there smiling. Soon after that awkward dinner Eddie cornered you in the hallway one arm leaning on the wall and the other holding a neatly folded letter with red hearts all over it. "Here you are sweets, Frank and I wrote this just for you." You firmly grasped the paper and unfolded it. It was a beautifully written poem about you. "Wow, thank you Eddie I don't know what to say, this is very well written! I love it." Eddie gave you a small kiss on the head like he always did and the tip of a hat before walking downstairs whistling a small tune.

Later that night Howdy came by the bathroom as soon as you got out of the shower to gift you with the shiniest apple you've ever laid eyes on. You questioned where he got it from but Howdy only responded with "It's a secret! Just know that it's 100% off for you!" You couldn't say no to that goofy grin of his, plus he was just so happy to give it to you! You took it from him with a warm smile on your face... Also because his giant body was blocking you from leaving.

Once you finally managed to get by the giant caterpillar with your new gift you went to your room to settle down and sleep, rolling around a bit in the sheets until you got comfortable enough and closed your tired eyes.

Not even a minute after closing your eyes you felt the bed dip beside yourself and a long arm snaked over your torso. Only one person you know does that. "Wally, what are you doing?"

"I'm just cuddling my dearest host to sleep is all.~" You peeked open an eye after hearing that. He always did this when he wanted something out of it. "What do you want?"

"Nothing at all! You're the most I could ever ask for...buuut since you brought it up, you might as well do me a teeny tiny favor." You rolled in bed, turning yourself towards his chest, you were too cozy to care about the intimacy. "Hmh?" You hummed in acknowledgment.

"Stop talking to Derrek."

You sat up immediately. Not once did you tell anyone who it was that you've been talking to. "How did you-" a finger shushed you. "I know about him, and I want you to stay away. Can you do that for me darling?" He smiled coyly, but really it felt like he was threatening you. "No...Wally I can't just ghost someone like that. Besides we're just friends." The arm around you tightened as you squirmed to get out of your own bed. "Oh I know, but I would really love it if you two would quit talking. I don't think he's right for you."

Your eyes narrowed at him, for once the cocky bastard didn't look so cocky. "Wally...are you jealous? Is that what all of this is about? The gifts, the dancing, the constant cuddle sessions from you and everyone else here?" You watched his body go rigid and his face scrunch up into what was almost a frown. Wow, he's actually kind of frowning for once. That was rare.

"Wally, we're not a thing. Derrek and I are just friends and I don't intend to ever date him. I'm glad you and the others really care about me this much but you really shouldn't worry about my safety." You spoke more softly, finally understanding where he was coming from. The iron grip on your waist didn't falter though and you felt yourself suddenly being forced into a bear hug.

Julie swatted Barnaby's long tie out of her face so she could lean in closer to the door to listen. Everyone else did their best not to make any noise as they listened in.

"Look, if it makes you feel any better I'll just tell him we're nothing more than friends and to keep it at that, but I can't just cut people out of my life like that...alright?"

An audible groan left everyone's mouth hearing that, startling you and Wally both. Silly host, how can you be so blind to love?

Looks like the dear reader doesn't understand just how much everyone loves them yet! Personally I don't think any of them would be the type to hurt you or others EXCEPT for Wally. I think they would probably just try to shower you with their love to make you like them more...however, if you are straying too far from them they may need to find a way to make you a permanent resident at the house, just not at your house. They've got a nice place just for you back Home.

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anotherhumaninthisworld · 3 months

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Can you tell me the story of the relationship between saint-just and desmoulins? . ..

Because I couldn't understand it properly so yeah ...

The first connection between Desmoulins and Saint-Just is from 2 January 1790, when the former publishes an annonce for the latter’s recently published Organt in number 6 of Révolutions de France et de Brabant:

Organt, poem in twenty verses, with this epigraph: Vous, jeune homme, au bon sens avez-vous dit adieu ? And this preface: J’ai vingt ans, j’ai mal fait, he pourrai faire mieux.

A few months later, we find the following letter from Saint-Just to Desmoulins. It is undated, but can be traced to May 1790. The letter makes Desmoulins, alongside Robespierre, who he wrote a letter to the following year, the only revolutionaries Saint-Just is confirmed to have contacted prior to heading to Paris in 1792. Unlike in the case of Robespierre however, the letter to Desmoulins implies a correspondence was actually picked up between the two:

Monsieur, If you were not so busy I would tell you some more details about the Chauni assembly where one can find men of considerable calibre and quality. I was received in spite of my youth. Sieur Gelli, your compatriot from Vermandois had denounced me. He was thrown out bodily. We saw your compatriots, M. Saulce, M. Violette and others, by whom I was received with great courtesy. There is no point telling you (because you are not fond of foolish praise) that your region is proud of you. You will have known before I did that the department is fixed at Laon. Is that good or is that bad for one or other of the towns? It seems to me that it is no more than a point of honour between the two towns and points of honour are of little importance. I took the tribune; I worked with the intention of carrying the day on the question of the chief place but I did not follow on, I left, weighed down with compliments like a donkey burdened with relics, having, however, the assurance that at the next legislature I could be with you in the national assembly. You had promised to write to me, but I see clearly that you will not have the time. I am free as of now. Should I return to you or remain amongst the foolish aristocrats in this part of the world. At the time of my return from Chauni the peasants from my region came to look for me at Manicamp. The Comte de Lauraguais was greatly astonished by this rustic-patriotic ceremony. I led them all to his house for a visit. They said that he was out in the fields, however, like Tarquin, I had a rod with which I cut off the head of a nearby fern beneath the window of the castle and without a word we made a volte face. Farewell my dear Desmoulins. Write to me if you have need of me. Your latest issues are full of excellent things. Apollo and Minerva are still with you and are not displeased. If you have anything to say to your people in Guise I will be seeing them again in eight days’ time from Laon where I will be going on specific business. Goodbye again: glory, peace and patriotic rage. Saint-Just I will read you this evening since I have only spoken to you of your recent issues by saying yes.

Different feelings can however be found a year later, in a letter Saint-Just adressed to Villain Daubigny on July 20 1791 (it is dated 1792 in Oeuvres complètes de Saint-Just, but Saint-Just’s biographer Bernard Vinot points out that this is most likely an error, since all the events it makes allusions to took place the previous year):

…Go and see Desmoulins, embrace him for me, and tell him that he will never see me again, that I esteem his patriotism, but that I despise him, because I have penetrated his soul, and because he fears that I will betray him. Tell him to not abandon the good cause, and recommend it to him, because he does not yet possess the audacity of magnanimous virtue.

What exactly had happened between the two for Saint-Just to write this about Desmoulins is unknown. The same can be said about the question regarding where and when the meeting between them he alludes to here played out, since neither of them are confirmed to have left their respective cities in 1791.

Yet another year later, in September 1792, both Saint-Just and Desmoulins were elected deputies for the National Convention, meaning the former came to settle in Paris on Rue de Gaillon 7, around 2,5 km from the latter’s home on Rue du Théâtre 1 (today Rue de l’Odeon 28). Aside from the fact both were fervent montagnards, I have not been able to find any connection between them until the second half of the following year, with the release of Desmoulins’ Lettre de Camille Desmoulins, député de Paris à la Convention, August général Dillon en prison aux Madelonettes. In it, Saint-Just, who had accused Dillon of having been asked to lead an uprising to put the dauphin on the throne and declare Marie-Antoinette regent on June 2 1793, got described the following way in a footnote:

After Legendre, the member of the Convention who has the highest opinion of himself is Saint-Just. One can see by his gait and bearing that he looks upon his own head as the corner-stone of the Revolution, for he carries it upon his shoulders with as much respect and as if it was the Sacred Host. But what makes his vanity killing is, that some years ago he published an epic poem in twenty-four cantos entitled Argant [sic]. Rivarol and Champcenetz, from whose microscope, used in the interests of the Almanach des grands hommes, not a single verse, not a single hemistich in France has ever escaped, have in vain gone searching for this; they who have hunted up even the least little scrap of literature have not seen Saint-Just’s epic poem in twenty-four cantos. After such a misadventure, how can he show himself?

According to some sources, the ”he carries his head like the Sacret Host” comment was a reply to something Saint-Just had himself said about Desmoulins. Marcellin Matton published in 1834 an anecdote (which it is presumed he obtained from Desmoulins’ mother- or sister-in-law) in which Guillaume Brune has a meeting with the Desmoulins couple at the time of the numbers of the Vieux Cordelier being released. The following conversation would then have played out:

”…You [Brune said] are also read by Barère who recognizes himself; by Saint-Just, who promised to make you carry your head like Saint Denis.” ”That’s true,” [Desmoulins] replied, ”I remember it: it was a very bad joke, and my answer was much better. Have you seen my letter to Dillon? In the approach and posture of Saint-Just, we see that he regards his head as the cornerstone of the republic, and that he carries it on his shoulders with respect like a holy sacrament. Was I wrong, and do you think that for such a good joke he would want to kill me? I only ask him for one favor, and that is to wait until he has given a valid response.”

In 1851, the historian Nicolas Villiaume similarly claimed to have had the same story told to him multiple times by Desmoulins’ mother-in-law. Interestingly though, the ”I will make him carry his head like Saint Denis” comment already appeared in works dated 1816 and 1825 (in both cases without any source cited). There, it is instead portrayed as a response to Desmoulins having written ”Saint-Just carries his head like the Sacred Host” and not as the cause of it. In light of this, I think the idea of Saint-Just having actually said it is something that must be taken with a huge grain of salt.

The things more reliable sources can tell us about Saint-Just’s attitude towards Desmoulins at the time are less overwhelming. He was away from Paris during much of the period where Desmoulins released and got in trouble for the Vieux Cordelier (from October 17 to December 4, December 10 to December 30, and finally January 22 to February 13), and when he was there during said period, I cannot find him recorded to have spoken about Desmoulins or his journal a single time. Saint-Just also went unmentioned in all of the six numbers of the Vieux Cordelier that were released during the time they were both alive.

When the Committee of Public Safety decided to strike down Desmoulins and the other ”dantonists,” it was however Saint-Just who, like in the previous case with the hébertists, got tasked with writing a report against them. Here he obtained the help of Robespierre, who prepared around 65 notes for him to use as material against them. In said notes, Robespierre presented Desmoulins as less guilty than Danton and Fabre, having instead been more of their minion, a version of the story Saint-Just then stuck to when finishing his Rapport sur la conjuration ourdie pour obtenir un changement de dynastie; et contre Fabre d’Églantine, Danton, Philippeaux, Lacroix et Camille Desmoulins:

Bad citizen (speaking of Danton), you have conspired, you said, two days ago, bad things about Desmoulins, an instrument that you have lost, and you attributed to him shameful vices. […] For six months, a plan of palpitation and anxiety has been hatched within the government. Every day we were sent a report on Paris; we were flexibly insinuated, sometimes imprudent advice, sometimes misplaced fears; the tables were calculated on the feelings that it was important to arouse in us, so that the government would move in the direction that suited criminal plots; Danton was praised there, Hébert and Camille Desmoulins were accredited, and all their projects were assumed to be sanctioned by public opinion, to discourage us. […] What shall I say of those who claimed to be exclusively the old Cordeliers? They were precisely Danton, Fabre, Camille Desmoulins, and the ministry, author of the reports on Paris, where Danton, Fabre, Camille and Philippeanx are praised, where everything is directed in their direction and in the direction of Hébert. Danton had directed the last writings of Desmoulins and Philippeaux. […] Camille Desmoulins, who was initially duped and ended up being an accomplice, was, like Philippeaux, an instrument of Fabre and Danton. It was said, as proof of Fabre's good nature, that when he was at Desmoulins' house at the time when he read to someone a writing in which he requested a committee of clemency for the aristocracy and called the Convention the court of Tiberius, Fabre started to cry. The crocodile cries too. As Camille Desmoulins lacked character, his pride was used. As a rhetorician, he attacked the revolutionary government in all its forms; he spoke brazenly in favor of the enemies of the Revolution, proposed a committee of clemency for them; showed himself to be very inclement towards the popular party; attacked, like Hébert and Vincent, the representatives of the people in the armies; like Hébert, Vincent and Buzot, he himself treated them as proconsuls. He had been the defender of the infamous Dillon, with the same audacity that Dillon himself showed, when at Maubeuge he ordered his army to march on Paris, and take an oath of loyalty to the king. He fought the law against the English; he received thanks in England, in the newspapers of that time. Have you noticed that all those who were praised in England have betrayed their fatherland here?

According to an anecdote published in the pamphlet À Maximilien Robespierre aux enfers (1795), released a few months after thermidor by Taschereau de Fargues and Paul-Auguste-Jacques, Saint-Just and Robespierre had wanted to denounce Desmoulins and the other dantonists before arresting them, but been downvoted by their colleagues:

Why should I not say that [the dantonist purge] was a meditated assassination, prepared for a long time, when two days after this session where the crime was taking place, the representative Vadier told me that Saint-Just, through his stubbornness, had almost caused the downfall of the members of the two committees, because he had wanted that the accused to be present when he read the report at the National Convention; and such was his obstinacy that, seeing our formal opposition, he threw his hat into the fire in rage, and left us there. Robespierre was also of this opinion; he believed that by having these deputies arrested beforehand, this approach would sooner or later be reprehensible; but, as fear was an irresistible argument with him, I used this weapon to fight him: You can take the chance of being guillotined, if that is what you want; For my part, I want to avoid this danger by having them arrested immediately, because we must not have any illusions about the course we must take; everything is reduced to these bits: If we do not have them guillotined, we will be that ourselves.

Regardless of whether this be true or not, on March 30, Saint-Just was one of eighteen men to sign the by Amar drafted arrest warrant for Danton, Delacroix, Philippeaux and Desmoulins, who were all arrested in the night. The next day at the Convention, Robespierre shut down Legendre when he suggested the accused be allowed to come and defend themselves before the Convention, after which Saint-Just entered the hall, mounted the rostrum and read out the act of accusation the two of them had worked out.

Receiving a copy of Saint-Just’s report in his cell at the Luxembourg prison, Desmoulins got around to preparing a defence. In it, he claimed the author of the report had personal reasons for wanting him dead. He also referred to him as ”Monsieur le Chevalier de Saint-Just,” a nicknamed previously used by the girondin Salle:

If I had gotten the chance to print in turn, if one hadn’t put me in isolation, if one had lifted the seals and if I had the paper neccesary to establish my defense, if one gave me only two days to make a number seven, imagine how I would confront M. the chevalier Saint-Just! Imagiene how I would convince him of the most atrocious slander ! But Saint-Just writes leisurely in his bath, in his bathtub, he plots my murder during fifteen days, while I have no place to put my writing desk and only a few hours to defend my life. What is this if not the the duel of the Emperor Commodus, who, armed with an excellent blade, forced his enemy to fight with a simple foil garnished with cork? […] I arrive at the part of the report which concerns me. In living memory, there is no example of such atrocious slander as this piece. And yet there is not a single person in the Convention that doesn’t know that Monsieur the former chevalier Saint-Just holds for me an implacable hatred for a slight joke that I allowed myself five months ago in one of my numbers. Bourdaloue said: Molière puts me in his comedy, I will put him in my sermon. I put Saint-Just in a giggly number, and he puts me in a guillotine report where there isn’t a single true word in my regard. When Saint-Just accuses me of being an accomplice of Orléans and Dumouriez, he shows well that he is a patriot of yesterday. Who denounced Dumouriez first of all, and before Marat and more vigorously than anyone else? Certainly one cannot deny that it was me? My Tribune des Patriotes exists, let Saint-Just read the portrait I there painted of Dumouriez six months before his treason in Belgium, he will see that I have never since added anything to this portrait. And Orléans who he makes me the accomplice of, who doesn’t know that I was the first to denounce him? That the only writings on this faction that the Jacobins have printed and distributed were written by me? Does Saint-Just no longer remember my Histoire des Brissotins? […] There are witnesses to the fact that the great republican Saint-Just, at the beginning of the Convention, said: Oh! They want a republic, she shall cost them dearly! There are witnesses to the fact the ambitious Saint-Just said: I know where I go.

In an unfinished and unsent letter written to Robespierre around the same time, Lucile Desmoulins too held Saint-Just as the main culprit behind her husband’s fate, arguing that he had misled their friend:

…As far from the insensibility of your Saint-Just as from his base jealousies, [Camille] recoiled in front if the idea of accusing a college comrade, a companion in arms. […] Robespierre, can you really complete the fatal projects which the vile souls that surround you no doubt have inspired you to? […] Had I been Saint-Just’s wife I would tell him this: the sake of Camille is yours, it’s the sake of all the friends of Robespierre!

A rumor claiming that Lucile had been sent money from the imprisoned Arthur Dillon conveniently arrived around the same time the trial against the indulgents started getting off the rails. In the afternoon of April 4, after the proceedings had been closed for the day, Saint-Just again mounted the rostrum at the Convention and revealed the discovery of this new conspiracy:

The public prosecutor of the revolutionary tribunal reported that the revolt of the guilty had caused the court proceedings to be suspended until the Convention had taken measures. You have escaped the greatest danger that ever threatened freedom: now all the accomplices are discovered, and the revolt of the criminals at the foot of justice itself. Intimidated by the law, the secret of their conscience; their despair, their fury, everything announces that the good nature they presented was the most hypocritical trap that had been set for the revolution. What innocent person has ever rebelled before the law? There is no need for any other proof of their attacks than their audacity. What! those whom we accused of having been the accomplices of Dumouriez and Orléans, those who only made a revolution in favor of a new dynasty, those who conspired for the misfortune and slavery of the people are at the height of their infamy! If there are men here who are truly friends of liberty, if the energy that suits those who have undertaken to liberate their country is in their hearts, you will see that there are no longer any conspirators on the front line, who, counting on the aristocracy with whom they have marched for several years, call upon the people the vengeance of the crime. No, liberty shall not recoil in front of her enemies; their coalition has been revealed. Dillon, who ordered his army to march upon Paris, has declared that the wife of Desmoulins had received money in order to promote a movement to assassinate the patriots and the Revolutionary Tribunal. We thank you for placing us in the position of honor; like you, we will cover the fatherland with our bodies. Dying is nothing, provided that the revolution triumphs; here is the day of glory; this is the day when the Roman senate fought against Catiline; This is the day to consolidate public liberty forever. Your committees respond to you with heroic surveillance. Who can refuse you his veneration in this terrible moment when you fight for the last time against the faction which was lenient towards your enemies, and which today finds fury to fight liberty?

After having heard Saint-Just’s report, the Convention used this new discovery to order ”that the Revolutionary Tribunal shall proceed with the instruction relating to the conspiracy of Lacroix, Danton, Chabot and others. The President shall make use of every means which the law permits to cause his authority and that of the Revolutionary Tribunal to be respected, and to repress every attempt on the part of the accused to trouble public tranquillity and to hinder the course of justice. It is decreed that all persons accused of conspiracy who shall resist or insult the national justice shall be outlawed and receive judgment on the spot.” This order became essential for getting the dantonists condemned to death the following day.

Saint-Just had however nothing to do with the actual arrest warrant for Lucile, signed the same day by Robespierre, Billaud-Varennes, C-A Prieur, Carnot, Couthon, Barère, Du Barran and Voulland, which would lead to her ending up on the scaffold as well nine days later.

I’m currently blanking when it comes to contemporaries who had anything to say regarding the relationship between Saint-Just and Desmoulins.

#saint-just #desmoulins #camille desmoulins #louis antoine saint just #frev #frev friendships #ask

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nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius · 1 year

Text

TBB Incorrect Quotes, Part 11

Tech: You know those frozen lunches Echo likes? Hunter: Yes? Tech: I think they changed the recipe for their macaroni and cheese. Hunter: What makes you say that? Tech: Echo took one bite and is now staring at it like it insulted his mother.

Crosshair: *stubs his toe* FUCK! Hunter: Watch your language! Crosshair: What else am I supposed to say, “Woe is I”??? Hunter: Crosshair: You have to accept that swear words are necessary sometimes.

Echo: *Accidentally hits Hunter in the face* Echo: *Trying to decide between saving 'I'm fucking sorry' and 'Are you okay'* Echo: ARE YOU FUCKING SORRY?! Hunter: What's wrong with you?!

Crosshair: Why is my underwear in the freezer? Tech: You said "this is gonna confuse me so much tomorrow". Tech: Apparently drunk you plays pranks on hungover you. Crosshair: That explains so much.

Echo, to Omega: Please, picking locks is my specialty. Echo: *throws a brick through the window* Echo: Okay, let’s go.

Omega, furious: What do you mean we have homework tonight? I have books to read.

Tech: Look guys, I need help. Echo: Love help? Wrecker: Financial help? Omega: Emotional help? Crosshair: Help moving a body? *Everybody looks at Crosshair* Crosshair: What?

Hunter: Here are two pictures. One of them is your room, and the other is the garbage dump. Wrecker: *points at a picture* That one is the dump. Hunter: tHEY'RE BOTH YOUR ROOM!

Crosshair, tearing up the room: Where are they? Crosshair, looking under a pillow: Who moved them? Who moved my children? Crosshair: Somebody moved my M&M's, and now I am going to start killing.

Hunter: WHOEVER CAUSED THIS MESS IS GOING TO- Omega: It was me... Hunter: ...Is going to be forgiven because everyone deserves a second chance.

Hunter: You are irrationally angry 365 days a year. Crosshair: Well, that’s just your personal opinion, I don’t have anger issues. Do you guys think I have anger issues? Tech: Well, I wouldn’t really call it an issue. An issue is something you can fix.

Echo: Crosshair isn’t answering my messages. Wrecker: Allow me. Echo: I tried 6 times, what makes you thi- Crosshair: *replying to message* Hello.

Omega: Who hurt you? Crosshair: *snorting* What, do you want a list? Omega: ...Yes, actually.

Crosshair: Hey, quick question. How petty am I allowed to be?

Echo: I've been expecting you, Omega. Omega: How did you do that without turning around? Echo: Let's just say the first few people I did that to were not you.

Crosshair: It's against my moral compass. Tech: Your moral compass is a roulette wheel.

Wrecker: I just heard Crosshair call the dog a “fucking liar” because it barked like someone was at the door and no one was there.

Omega: Do you have any idea what you’re doing? Crosshair: Why start now?

Echo: You three, explain right now! Omega: It was Wrecker. Crosshair: It was Wrecker. Tech: It was Wrecker. Wrecker: Wrecker: …fuck.

Tech: Here’s the cold medicine you asked for. Tech: *dumps 3 shopping bags of wine on the table* Crosshair: ...Thanks.

Tech: Just so everyone knows, don't ever try to climb a tree at night carrying a strobe light, owls DON'T like it. Hunter: ...what happened? Tech: I made a VERY bad mistake.

Echo: If it pleases the court I would like to say that my opponent is TALKING SHIT!

Tech: Valentine’s day is just a consumerist holiday that holds no real value other than drive people insane buying heart shaped chocolates for their significant others and pos- Phee: I wrote you a poem. Tech, already crying: You did?

Hunter: I have an idea. Omega: A good idea? Hunter: Let's not get ahead of ourselves.

Tech: A butterfly! Hey, little guy, gal or nonbinary pal! Wrecker: Can a butterfly be nonbinary? Tech: I mean, maybe? I don't judge. Hunter, staring dreamily out of the window: Ah, have you ever imagine having butterfly wings? Then- Crosshair: Then it would be inconvenient as fuck. Your wings would smack every doorframe and your clothes would have to have holes in the back. Omega: Also, your wing's paper thin, so even a six year old aimed a NERF gun at it would... Yeah... Wrecker: *sips coffee* According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way that a- Hunter: No, nononono. You fuckers have already shattered my dream, you don't get the fucking privilege to make that reference. Echo: Also, it's about a butterfly, not a bee... Why would you make that reference? Tech: You clearly have not lived with him long enough.

Echo: Does anyone know how to relax? Asking for a friend.

*Casually in the Middle of a High Stakes/Dangerous Situation* Wrecker: How do you eat pickles? Tech: What do you mean? Wrecker: I mean, there's a whole process. It's not like you can grab them from the jar with your hand, because it's cold and the juice burns if you have a cut, plus, it's pretty unsanitary. And you can't use a spoon because you'll have to scoop it out, and it'll be way too difficult to grab more than three or four without taking 10 minutes along with half the brine in the jar, even if it's one with holes. Tech: Yeah, that's why you use a fork. Wrecker: Okay, sure, but what if you don't have one of the big ones clean? It's weird to use a small one. But there is always one of those smaller sharp knives clean. Tech: But the straight edge doesn't really fit the cylindrical shape, and you have to make sure you don' t break it, it's too much work. Wrecker: It makes me feel like I deserve the pickles though. Like, "Yeah, I did it. That's right. Good job me." It's empowering. But even after that, it's not like you can use a bowl. Tech: I get that, it's not ascetically pleasing. Wrecker: Exactly! And it looks weird if you don't entirely fill the bowl, but you also can't eat that many. My solution: Use a mug. Tech: *Nods in agreement* Hunter: That is all very interesting, BUT WE'RE TRYING NOT TO DIE RIGHT NOW! USE YOUR LIMITED ATTENTION SPANS AND FOCUS! Wrecker: Jeez, okay. Tech: Quit yelling at us already.

Omega: Do you know a tortoise’s only weakness? Wrecker: No... well, their slowness. Omega: Their weakness is they can't roll over when they are on their backs. Omega: Now I have a plan. Omega: If I duct tape two tortoises together, they'll be unstoppable.

Wrecker: *on the phone* Hey Hunter, do you know my blood type? Hunter: Of course, it's B-. Wrecker: Oh, I guessed wrong. Excuse me, nurse-!

Hunter: Guess who just found out the difference between wax paper and parchment paper the hard way? Echo: Wait, what’s the difference? Hunter: One you can use in the oven safely, and the other you can also use in the oven... if the thing you are trying to make happens to be fire.

Tech: Echo, keep an eye on Crosshair today. He’s going to say something to the wrong person and get punched. Echo: Sure, I'd love to see Crosshair getting punched. Tech: Try again. Echo, sighing: I will try to stop Crosshair from getting punched.

Hunter: Tech… Tech: Oh, no. “Tech” in B-flat. Tech: You’re disappointed.

*Omega and Wrecker are arguing* Omega: I hope your sock falls off into your shoe! Wrecker: I hope both sides of your pillow are warm! Omega: I hope you get an itch on your back that you can’t reach! Wrecker: *gasp* Wrecker: I HOPE YOU STEP IN A WET SPOT AFTER PUTTING CLEAN SOCKS ON Omega: I HOPE YOUR PHONE STOPS CHARGING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT! Wrecker: I HOPE THERE’S NO MILK WHEN YOU GO TO MAKE CEREAL! Crosshair, to Echo: Should we do something? Echo: Not yet. These are getting creative, I want to hear more.

Crosshair: Hostage or not, sometimes it's nice to be held. Tech: Tech: Are you okay?

#tbb incorrect quotes #incorrect bad batch quotes #incorrect quotes #star wars #the bad batch #tbb #i needed a break from revision

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darlingillustrations · 2 months

Text

I feel like I should be panicking more. My rent is due in one week, my landlord isn't friendly, and I have no one to ask for help. And yet? I have an eerie sense of calm about it.

I know the calm that happens when you are not actually calm but panicking and your body is helping you survive. This isn't that kind of fake calm. I am sleeping at night. I'm not snaping at my kids. I am *at peace.*

(Read more for musings about the economy, my spiritual mindset in the midst of it all, and some Mary Oliver poetry.)

Five years ago? I would be panicking and staying up late working long hours and burning myself out. But now? These days I'm working full days, then stepping back and cooking meals or working on projects for my kids. It feels more stable this time. I feel like I've matured.

I got a report in my email yesterday which showed that retail sales in January plunged 0.8% from December, far worse than the consensus forecast for a decline of just 0.2%, and the largest monthly loss since March 2023. On the one hand, it made me feel better that it's not just me. On the other hand, it sucks that lots of other people are struggling, as well.

Still, I make the time to meditate every morning. Still, I pull out my poetry books and take my life advice from Mary Oliver. In the poem One or Two Things she wrote:

One or two things are all you need to travel over the blue pond, over the deep roughage of trees and through the stiff flowers of lightning--some deep memory of pleasure, some cutting knowledge of pain.

You don't need to have all the answers. You just need to put one step in front of the other.

Last year when I launched my wholesale business, I drummed up over 1000 leads. I'd pick a city and use google maps or yelp to search for gift shops, stationary stores, coffee shops... anywhere that I thought might want my work... and I took the time to write a personal note to each and every one of these businesses. This month I decided to check back in with them again, and so many of the businesses are now closed or their email addresses no longer work.

Having exhausted these leads, I sat at my computer yesterday with the knowledge that I needed to wait on people to get back to me, that the wholesale leads were out of my hands. And that I still did not have money to pay my landlord. Not once did I fear I would join the list of closed businesses. I did not despair.

Instead, I turned to my first joy. I went back to the sales history on my website and found my very first customers from back in 2016 when I launched my web shop. I emailed them, each of those first customers, sending personal emails. I did not ask them to buy anything. That wasn't what I needed. I asked how they were, what they have been up to, where their lives have taken them.

I was searching for that deep memory of pleasure, that cutting knowledge of pain. One or two things is all we need, after all.

And I got one email back.

This woman was the first person to ever buy an art print in my online shop--a honeybee boy painting--and it is still hanging in her stepson's room, nearly 8 years later. She shared pictures of her new baby, and I shared the pictures with my kids. This woman had sent me many emails over the years, asking for life advice or encouraging me on a hard day. She shared that she didn't realize her emails had made such an impact on me.

Funny how none of us truly sees how impactful we are to those around us. Funny how life keeps going on, whether we worry about it or not.

In One or Two Things, Mary Oliver also wrote:

For years and years I struggled just to love my life. And then the butterfly rose, weightless, in the wind. "Don't love your life too much," it said, and vanished into the world.

I want my character to be defined not by what I do when things are easy but by how I carry myself when things are hard. And I do believe things happen for a reason. Maybe the line between delusion and faith is very thin, but the universe has shown me time and again that it's had my back. I've been in worse scrapes and still came out ok.

If you've read this far and you want to help me get through the next week, you can buy something from my shop or support me on Patreon.

And if you've read this far but you are in a similar boat, don't fret. We will find our way through the fires. one. step. at. a. time.

#mary oliver #capitalism #queer artist #support queer artists #patreon artist #darling illustrations #erin speaks

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atom-writings · 8 months

Note

Hi!!!!!!

Can I request the main 8 with a poet/writer s/o?

The main 8 find their s/o's poems or writing about them and it's like how much they love them !!!

(hopefully this makes sense :D have a nice day!

Also your writing super coolio )

hetalia allies + germany with a s/o who's a writer

1.6k words ~ gender neutral heacanons + mini scenarios

tw: swearing, thats it!

a/n: i believe this is after the cutoff so its only 6 characters sorry! also ty :)

America

Alfred may not seem like it, considering his less-than-stellar attention span, but he can be quite an avid reader if he wants to be.

In fact, when he was travelling the western frontier, he often wrote poems himself.

He loves your work, (he’s always the first one showing up on release day!) but he doesn’t love how much time it takes away from you.

Seeing you exhausted and frustrated after a long night, trash can filled with discarded drafts, just breaks his heart. He’ll make sure your office is always stacked with

Alfred wasn’t usually so easily swayed by cheesy romances, despite his sweet soft for them. But now, reading your book, he couldn’t help flushing at every interaction his favourite couple had.

The one he was reading now, well, it just took the cake. Spending the day wandering East Potomac Park? It was something out of his dreams- just endlessly… familiar?

Wait, hadn’t he done that recently with you?

Oh.

He set the book aside, burying his face in his hands as he blushed wildly.

Guess the blue-eyed, blond love interest hero was a bit more than a stereotype after all.

England

Ah, a writer. Arthur has long admired the literary arts, having many a classic writer come from his home. Yes, he’d quite enjoy someone like that.

He loves reading your work, regardless of what it is, but he’d prefer you read it to him. Then he can get all of your silly little notes along with it. Just for him <3

Although he wouldn’t appreciate you spending all day working. He’s not needy usually, but by the time you two go to bed, he’s DESPERATE for your attention.

He tries not to disturb you, though.

From the moment he picked up your work, he could tell where your inspiration for the main love interest came from. Sandy-haired, green eyes, tall but not too tall, always how you had described him.

Of course, that made his reading even more of a joy.

The only thing that bothered him was how the protagonist described themself. Always dismissed, below-par, never worthy of his love. Now, that just wouldn’t stand.

So he began to write as well. In between the margins, on attached papers, on the sides, everywhere. Correcting every disparaging thought.

Then when he finished, he handed the book back to you, with a cheeky comment.

“It was absolutely wonderful, my love.”

Whether you ever saw the notes or not didn’t matter. He had made the book even more perfect, at least to himself.

France

As said before, Francis is a very artsy guy. Very artsy. Although he’s not always skilled at making art himself… so having another artist would help with that.

He’s absolutely the number one collector of your works. Every scrap, every trashed draft, every misprint, he’s keeping everything.

He’s also pretty ok with how much time it takes! It gives him time to relax, or maybe even join in working on creative projects.

Although he would insist on regular breaks. Fortunately, Francis is a hedonist at heart, so those breaks will always provide much inspiration.

True beauty is rare. Living for so long had proven that time and time again for Francis. It isn’t natural, it isn’t easy, and it never lasts. But…that doesn’t make the pursuit of it any more meaningless.

Even more rare than its existence, is the constant presence of it.

But when he read your poems, venerating and elucidating your own feelings, he felt as if he had found it. God, it was beautiful. Your words, unlike any other’s he had read in his many years, made him feel as if he was falling in love all over again.

Instantly, he was transported into your shoes, viewing himself in a light that had never been shone on him before.

He wasn’t entirely sure what to do with himself now. It felt wrong- wrong to not give absolute reverence to this piece of art.

If he had had access to the Louvre, he would’ve kept it there. But, well, his kitchen wall would have to do for now.

China

Finally, some good fucking talent. He's very excited about his S/O being an artist! He's not much of one himself these days, but it's good to see the youth catching up to the old masters.

As much as he loves you, he's very opinionated. Everything you write he either LOVES or HATES. Though he's always excited to show off his favourites of your works, he's very proud of you.

Though he absolutely is not stand by while you spend all day sitting around and writing. Get off the couch and come with him, you're never gonna write anything real good if you don't have any life experience!

Because of that, he's gonna be a little hesitant to cater to you while you're writing.

Your last work was good, to be sure, but nothing like this. Your newest release blew him off his feet with ease, captivating him with every turn of the page. One of his favourites, he thought to himself, that'll be one he'd have to return to.

The only problem was that it was almost over already. He wasn't that much of a fast reader, was he? Well, I guess it's easy to go quickly if you love it.

And love it he did, to the very last page. Wait, this is the last page, isn't it? Why are there three more?

He flipped through them, his eyes quickly widening as he read the last page.

A love letter? To... him?

“Is this in every edition?” He asked you shakily, looking to you for reassurance.

“Yeah?”

“That's...” He brought a hand to his mouth, covering his blushing cheeks trying to hide the tears welling in his eyes, “That's such a waste of paper...”

Russia

Frankly, Ivan doesn't care much what you do. The most exciting part of you being a writer to him is just that you'd need to spend plenty of time at home.

But he'd always read your work. (Especially rough drafts, he's really good at being blunt but not mean.) And as time goes on, he'll fall in love with your talent more and more. Despite his country's many famous writers, he thinks none of them stack up to you.

He wouldn't mind how much time you dedicate to your craft, but he'd make sure to take good care of you while you're writing. He's truly very worried about you withering away in that desk chair of yours...

“Oh, I absolutely loved the part where-“

Ivan had been ranting for hours, going over every single detail that had caught his eye. Every time he thought of something new, it would lead to another excited train of thought. But there was one thing they all had in common... he really loved one character.

”He's strong!“ He'd gush, ”He's kind, and loving, and I just want him to have a happy ending!“

You let him explain over and over again how much he looked up to this character, wanting to change to be more like him in every way.

But it wasn't until he calmed down a little bit that you felt it was time to reveal the truth.

”Yeah, you know... he's based on someone I know.“

”Really? Who? I must meet him!“ He clasps his hands together in excitement.

”You, you big dummy.“

He pauses for a moment, his smile fading. He looks upset for a moment, trying to figure out how.

”But... but I am none of those things.“

”You are to me. I mean, whenever I thought about you... I'd just write that character.“

He laughs awkwardly, “You are joking, right?”

“No, of course not. You're strong... and you're kind....” he shifts away from you, tears welling in his eyes, “You're loving... and... and I'll give you a happy ending, ok?”

Before you can react, he wraps his arms tightly around your waist, burying his face in your hair.

”Promise?“

”Promise.“

Germany

Ludwig would definitely love a S/O who writes. Mostly for one specific reason, though. Writers, well, they see the world in a different way. Whether that be in a more romantic, more objective, or more sympathetic way, he doesn't care. He wants to talk things through with someone like you.

He wouldn't be a total fanboy, but he'd still love your work. Although, he might not show it the way you want... it's hard for him not to criticize. He wouldn't be too harsh though!

He wouldn't mind how much you get sucked into your writing either. He knows what it's like to be dedicated to your craft, and he won't bother you too much.

Ludwig had never been an emotional person. Never, not once, throughout his many years was he truly moved to tears by fiction. Art depicting real life? Of course, many times. But he simply never found fiction as compelling as reality.

That was, of course, until he read your own works. Now, going through what you had so effortlessly created, he couldn't help tearing up at nearly every turn of events.

The way you were about to put him into the character's shoes without him even realizing, forcing him along the same journey they had gone through. It was... stunning, to say the least.

But when one of the characters began to fall in love, it was like nothing he had experienced before. Not because of any significant jump in quality, but just because... you had written it.

For a moment he sat in silence, pondering the book when he realized.

Was this what it felt like for you to fall in love with him?

It sent a chill down his spine. No, he didn't feel any differently, not at all. But... he had assumed you couldn't possibly love him as much as he loved you. Except... now?

Well, if this was how you had felt. He couldn't possibly let you go anytime soon.

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velvet4510 · 7 months

Text

Is it just me, or do y’all also sorta wish that Jackson had filmed Appendix B as the actual ending of ROTK? Clearly, as you’ll see, I have relatively normal feelings about this.

I understand and appreciate the movie having the same ending as the actual book. But the STORY itself doesn’t end with the last chapter; it ends with Appendix B.

Imagine a 2-minute montage, fading in after Sam comes home from the Grey Havens:

An unfamiliar female voice narrates over these images:

Sam & Rosie raising their children at Bag End; Sam reading the Red Book aloud to the children.

Sam making a speech as Mayor.

Sam sitting in Bag End’s study, reading a letter signed ‘Frodo,’ which Frodo clearly left for him.

Pippin & Diamond’s wedding.

Merry & Estella’s wedding.

Aragorn & Arwen with their children in Minas Tirith.

Aragorn dedicating and unveiling a tall statue of Frodo & Sam in Minas Tirith.

Legolas restoring the destroyed forests.

Gimli bringing the dwarves to Helm’s Deep.

Faramir & Éowyn with their children in Ithilien.

Teenage Elanor reading the Red Book by herself and reading a letter or poem that Frodo wrote for her before he sailed away (because, come on, he was a 2nd dad to her. he literally named her. he adored her, so of course he left something for her since she was too young to actually remember him).

Aragorn & Arwen visiting Sam, Merry, Pippin and their wives & children at the Brandywine Bridge.

The Gardner, Took & Brandybuck families all celebrating Yule together.

Time passing … the Travellers aging … the children growing up.

Teenage Elanor introducing Fastred to her parents.

Faramir Took and Goldilocks Gardner dancing at a party, transitioning to a dance at their wedding.

Sam and his son Frodo teaching Frodo’s own young son how to work in the garden.

The seasons in the Shire changing as more years go by…

Elderly Sam and his now-adult children gathered around elderly Rosie’s deathbed.

Elderly Sam sitting alone in Bag End’s beautiful, flourishing garden with a faraway look on his face, pulling Frodo’s now-wrinkled letter out of his pocket and reading it again.

Elderly Sam, Merry & Pippin sharing one last drink at the Green Dragon, followed by a tearful group embrace.

(I know the following messes up the book’s timeline, but for dramatic effect, I think this order of events would work better as a close for the film):

Elderly Merry & elderly Pippin hugging their adult sons goodbye and riding out of the Shire together.

Merry & Pippin shaking hands with elderly Éomer in Rohan.

Merry & Pippin’s gravestones in Gondor, with a statue of them standing above their tomb.

Aragorn’s tomb now beside theirs, years later.

Arwen hugging Eldarion goodbye in his throne room, with Eldarion now wearing the king’s crown.

Arwen entering Lothlórien alone.

Legolas hopping into a small sailboat and helping an aged Gimli onboard before they drift off into the sunset.

Sam placing the Red Book in adult Elanor’s hands and embracing her tightly.

A ship pulling away from the Grey Havens.

Elanor standing on the quayside and tearfully waving as the ship disappears into the horizon. She composes herself and her narration says “And that day, my dear Sam-dad passed over the Sea … the last of the Ring-bearers.”

Her words lead into the very last shot, fading from her face into a flash of white, and then fade-in to a distant view of an island, with greenery on one side and a sparkling beach on the other. Two hobbits, their backs to us, are strolling along the coastline, hand-in-hand.

THE END.

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carcarcraziiv2 · 5 months

Text

HEARTSTEEL FIRST MEETING HCs (PART TWO)

Dis for daddy Yone and my love Aphelios. 💗

~*-If you enjoyed, feel free to send me asks (however that works) with prompts. I also enjoy writing about other league characters as well if you're into that!-*~

Aphelios:

Art classes were never really your thing. You were more into writing, and when your best friend invited you to a creative writing workshop you couldn't help but take the opportunity.

You two got to the class early and were shocked to find out that it was being sponsored by one of your favorite band's lyricists, Aphelios from Heartsteel. The excitement you felt at being able to spend your time at a place that someone in the band even thought about had you more inspired than you were previously.

During the workshop, you wrote a nice little series of poems while you daydreamed about the band. The entire time you kept getting nudges from your best friend because you found yourself mindlessly humming their songs.

At the end, you were surprised to find out that they were hosting a contest to meet the band based on the works submitted if you so wished at the end of the night. You did, and you were even more shocked when a few weeks later you got an email stating that you had won!

The email read as follows-

Dear Y/N,

We would like to begin by thanking you for your submission to the Heartsteel: Meet the Band! competition hosted by Aphelios. Based on the band's review of your work, they would like to designate you as the winner! With our sincerest congratulations, please see the information below with the destination, date, and time!

The rest of the letter contained as it stated, and you were ecstatic. The days passed quickly and before you knew it, you were driving to the location of the meet and greet.

Walking into the small very secure building, you were greeted by a pleasant young woman who led you to a small room with a couch and a few plush chairs. You took a seat, and she left letting you know it would be a few minutes.

You were antsy as you sat there but giddy none the less. Soon enough, the door opened, and you stood in excitement as the members of Heartsteel walked in. Sett, Kayn, Ezreal, Yone, K'Sante, and finally Aphelios.

They all greeted you happily, and finally Aphelios gave you his hand in greeting, a sweet smiling gracing his face. You all discussed things, you got photos, and by the end you were feeling so happy that they were all as cool and nice (Kayn was kinda sus but...) as you had hoped!

It seemed like during the whole time, Aphelios kept writing to you that you had genuinely impressed him.

I really liked your work. It spoke to me. Did you write them based on each of us?

"I did! I thought since you were sponsoring the event I may as well make it Heartsteel inspired," you laugh nervously, running a hand over your head. "I'm glad you like it."

I was wondering if you would like to get together for some writing sessions? I know it's kind of off the wall here but... I wouldn't mind learning more about the way you think.

"I would love to!" You smile, and he gives you his phone to type your number into, and you couldn't help but add a cheeky smiley face next to your name.

I look forward to seeing you again soon! He wrote, and you all said your goodbyes.

You were smiling your whole drive home, and as you got ready to go to bed you heard your phone vibrate on your side table.

Your heart fluttered as you read the message:

Hey, it's Aphelios. Is this Y/N?

YONE:

You always liked going out to a coffee shop to do your work in the mornings. It made you feel more businesslike, for some reason, when you got to go work in a place where everyone is in suits and also on laptops.

The day started like any other. Gathering your things, you headed to a new-to-you coffee shop downtown. When you arrived, you headed inside and sat down after you ordered your drink and a little breakfast sandwich.

Opening your laptop, you got right to work moving files and typing away at emails. You had your headphones in listening to some soft indie pop and you bobbed your head along to it as you wrote.

After about thirty minutes, you took a little break to stretch your fingers and glance around at the other people sitting at tables around you. Turning your attention toward the window, you saw him.

A tall looking man with long white hair with red streaks in a ponytail sat with his head face first into a little MacBook. You couldn't help but gawk at his overall attractive features, as he has focused green eyes and neat but chiseled features. You wondered what his voice sounded like.

You nearly fall out of your seat the way you turn away when his gaze shifts to look at you. He must have felt someone staring at him, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. Okay, that's awkward.

Trying to quickly forget that you just got caught staring, you get back to work. You had only planned on staying at the coffee shop for a few hours while you got through your morning emails, but this man was a revelation you weren't willing to leave just yet.

Over the next few minutes, you kept stealing peaks at him, and to your surprise he kept looking back at you. At one point, he smiled politely at you as if to say, "Need something?"

Finally, after getting multiple messages from your boss that you hadn't noticed due to your wandering thoughts you decided to brush it all off and dive back into your work. Before you knew it, an hour had gone by and you looked quickly toward the direction of where the man had been sitting. Disappointed, you realize that he was no longer there. You shrug to yourself and start packing up your things, pulling out your headphones and shoving them in your bag.

Just as you are about to stand up, you feel a tap on your shoulder that causes you to jump slightly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," You hear as you turn to face the person who tapped you. To your dismay, it was the man who you had been caught staring at.

"It's okay!" you laugh nervously. "Um... What's up?"

"I just noticed you kept looking at me and well, I couldn't help but keep looking at you... and I was wondering if you would like to meet here again for coffee in the morning while you do whatever it is you're doing?" You can see the man blushing, and you wonder inwardly if he was as nervous talking to you as you were about talking with him. "Oh, and I'm Yone. Sorry, I forgot to mention that."

"I'm Y/N," You say in response. "And that would be cool, I usually go get coffee in the morning anyway. Sorry for staring at you earlier, I got kind of carried away I guess." Oh. My. God. Why am I word vomiting on this poor man?

"Don't worry, I kind of liked catching you off guard a few times. It was cute." He says, and you can't help but to blush again. "I'll see you in the morning then, Y/N." He smiles, turns away and leaves you flabbergasted and blushing in the coffee shop.

#Heartsteel Yone #Heartsteel Aphelios #League of Legends Fanfic #vi league of legends x reader #heartsteel x reader

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dmc-brainrot · 6 months

Note

i loved the yamato! reader fic! please continue it! also here is a real question! how do you think the yamato would look as a human?

Eternally Soul Bonded (part 2)

Vergil (DMC5) x Yamato! reader

warnings: reader is a humanoid version of Yamato, reader is also a bit obssessed with Vergil (mild yandere behaviour that seems to be growing), a bit of angst, fluff, mild smut, strangling, things get a bit heavy

summary: after a whole year of you two being together, there seems to be a huge wall separating you two… and you intend to break it by force, no matter what.

word count: 2k

a.n: hi again! thank you so much for the feedback :D! Here's part 2 of the fic!! I posted a small doodle I made about my own interpretation of a personification of Yamato on my blog! Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, I'll probably make a part 3 of this since I'm having fun, and things are getting steamy~ thank you again for your support and my ask box is always open! o/

After what happened between you and Vergil, it seemed the two of you had gotten closer.

It was still unexplainable however, how you had come to exist in the world… as a personification of Yamato, and more. Ever since you had woken up in that body, you felt as if you were no longer simply “Vergil’s sword”, but also a person of your own.

It had been an entire year by now… that you two had been together in this old raggedy apartment. In the beginning, Vergil was training you hard to unlock every potential within you as his sword, ever since you unlocked his Devil Trigger. But, things were different… it felt as if your potential was permanently locked within that body you woke up as.

Training wasn’t the concern now. It wasn’t about whether you still had the potential of Yamato within you or not. It wasn’t about whether Vergil believed you were in fact the sword he’d been looking for the past 20 years. No, the problem was completely different. It was about your connection as one.

It was if… Vergil didn’t know anything about the emotions he was able to feel, because all this time, he had buried those deep inside for the sake of his hunt for power.

After the episode where he broke down crying from the first time, you were expecting, maybe even hoping that you two would grow closer again, that it meant something, and that it’d make a difference.

But it took a completely opposite effect.

Vergil… refused to talk about emotions or his feelings with you after that day. And that’s how the remaining of the year went by.

Obviously you wouldn’t let that be your reality. After all, you had just gotten him back.

…

Vergil was in his room reading when you approached the entrance. It seemed now that things had settled, he was trying to partake in more hobbies other than fighting. He had always enjoyed reading, and there was even a time where he wrote poems, although you weren’t sure if he did that anymore.

He seemed to completely ignore your presence, up until you sat down on the edge of the bed with him. Only then he looked at you.

“What do you want?” He asked in that nasally annoyed tone he always had.

“What are you reading?” You asked, ignoring his cold tone. You were used to it anyway.

“Human fiction is pretty fascinating to me, I’m reading some stories about Norse Myths”

“Do you think those kinds of things are real?”

“What things?”

Great, you two were having an actual conversation. This is how things were supposed to go to begin with.

“Gods, and all sorts of things. We’ve only had to deal with demons and demon Lords… and wannabe angels…” You spoke, leaning against his arm to take a better look at the book he read. “…But do you really think… there is such a thing, as multiple gods… that live up there in the sky?”

Vergil was silent for a moment… you could tell he was tense and uncomfortable, probably because you were so close to him.

“I don’t care about gods in the sky. These are merely myths created by the feeble and limited human mind because their existence is so insignificant in comparison to their surroundings, they feel the need to believe in something greater to be responsible for them.” He spoke even more coldly, closing the book he held. “…Now, what do you want…?”

“…I just wanted to see what you were doing.” You whispered, looking back at him. “…I think… you’re right about that. About gods… and humans.”

“…” Vergil sighed, almost in defeat, opening the book again and continuing his reading. “Do you want me to tell you more?”

Your eyes sparkled with the idea, looking up at him as if he had just offered you salvation.

“Yes…please…”

You ended up falling asleep for a brief moment after a while of Vergil reading to you. But, you could still hear his voice vaguely in the distance.

“…You present yourself as a human, you act and feel like a human, you even have needs like a human…” his raspy and quiet voice echoed in the walls of your mind. “…at first… I thought it was just an elaborated gimmick… to protect yourself against me using your full capabilities…”

“…You… are just like V… so maybe that means… the real Yamato is somewhere out there for me to find… and all I have to do is to merge you two together.”

Oh.

Of course.

He still… wanted just his sword.

You were foolish to think… after a whole year, your relationship was anything more than that.

“…What did you say, Vergil?” You shot your eyes open. They were dark and unforgiving, the light behind them was gone, just in that time where you punctured his heart. There was a coldness and lack of humanity behind your voice, as your bloodlust filled eyes stared right at the man who was tucking you in on the bed.

Vergil seemed surprised as you stared at him, his hands still holding onto the blanket he was using to tuck you in. He froze in place.

“…I’m just… an incomplete half, you say?” You continued, unblinking. “…That, you’re holding onto me just to find the ‘other half’, you say?”

You didn’t move from your spot.

“…So I can go back… to being just your sword… who can’t speak, or feel, right?”

Vergil didn’t move either.

“…I’m not like V.” The room had then filled with an unspeakable amount of despair. “…Do I have to keep proving myself, time and time again for you to understand?”

You sat up finally, holding onto Vergil’s hands and squeezing his wrists tightly so he wouldn’t leave your grasp.

“…Are you that miserable and pathetic without a sword to wield? Do you really only see me as a tool to use and regain power? I have bad news for you Vergil… son of Sparda…” You said as you pulled him closer.

“…You have no control… over the things that happen in your life.” You stared right at his icy blue eyes, eyes that at this moment were still widened in shock. “…You had no control over being trapped in Hell, or becoming some other devil’s puppet knight, or even when Nero was born and absorbed me into him. You were never behind anything, and when you were, you had to split yourself into two to even be able to achieve something.”

“…You’re nothing without the circumstances that present themselves to you. And at the end of the day, even if you do win… Dante never loses, does he? Isn’t that what pisses you off the most?”

“…Stop talking.” Vergil spoke through gritted teeth. “You think talking about my weaknesses will make me cry again like last time? Please. You really are a one-trick pony, aren’t you?”

“I’m not done talking.” You squeezed his wrists again.

“…I know every bit of emotion you feel inside your heart. The anger and jealousy, the envy, the frustration, the pain, the grief, everything. You’re sick and tired of Dante getting his way for everything, that you’re always in the shadows, that he’s always winning and you’re always losing.” You spoke through gritted teeth. “Wondering time and time again if your positions were switched… if you could’ve had a different outcome.”

Vergil’s eyes widened at your words again, you knew he could come out of your grasp at any time, but he chose not to.

“…And you think… that if you have your sword, you’ll try… countless…. and countless of times… to achieve that different outcome.”

“…Why are you… even alive right now, Vergil?”

Vergil let himself go from your grasp. He placed his hands beside you on the bed, and bowed his head for a moment.

“…I see.”

“…You’re saying… I don’t need a sword by my side to get a different outcome?” He smiled a little, before finally looking at you with a gaze you’ve never seen on his face before. “Then… I don’t need you, is that right?”

Before you knew it, his hands were on your throat.

And he started strangling you.

But you weren’t scared. You knew he needed this to overcome his weaknesses.

So you smiled.

“…I really… do love you, Vergil” You spoke with a smile as he strangled you, your eyes filling with small tears as he did, but you couldn’t help yourself. You couldn’t stop smiling.

It was like it had awakened something in him. Not a new power, or ability, or even a new form.

But a new feeling.

Those hands that strangled you, had let go of your neck, to hold onto something else.

And the man who was just now strangling you like he wanted to kill you, was now… using his lips to kiss you.

It was weird, because you had never kissed anyone before, but it felt almost natural to do this, so you kissed him back.

You would never know what clicked inside Vergil’s head for him to do this, you would never know that he was practically seeing a reflection of himself in you. A sword that reminded its master of his weaknesses that needed to be purified. A reminder of why he’s alive. Why he needs to be more powerful.

And oddly enough, that really… aroused him beyond comprehension. It was what motivated him to keep going.

His kisses were rough and sloppy, but it wasn’t much of a problem since you were too. He held your cheeks just as strongly as he did your neck seconds ago, and you were locked in place.

He seemed absolutely desperate. Either it was for affection, or for human touch, or if it was because he wanted to feel powerful again. Maybe all of the above.

But you on the other hand… the amount of pleasure you were getting from his desperation was more than anything you could possibly dream on.

He was yours.

And you were his.

And he was yours, forever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever… until the ends of time, and there was nothing he could do to get rid of you anymore.

“…Take off your clothes, Vergil…”

“Show me… how much you crave power.”

After a year of coldness and barely anything between you, you had finally done it. You had finally broken him.

You had him, right where you wanted him to.

And with the two of you as one, finally there was absolutely nothing that would get in your way again. Because, after all…

You were the strongest.

“Take it off, Vergil… Let’s… become one.” You smirked, offering your arms for him.

He stared down at you for a moment longer, as if he had been presented with a choice he couldn’t back away from.

And so he made his choice.

He took off his shirt, exposing his toned form, and slowly began to unbuckle his pants.

There was no turning back now… he was finally becoming one with the one person that would always be the only one for him eternally so.

He leaned down, kissing you again, this time rougher, and even more desperate. He moved his hands to your legs, lifting them up and making sure they were wrapped around his form, locking you in.

You wrapped your arms around him, and you could feel the warmth his crazed desperation was emanating… and despite never having done this before you incorporated in this body, it all felt natural to you, like before.

This would be a very… long night.

#dmc5 #oc x canon #canon x reader #devil may cry #dmc fanfiction #devil may cry fanfiction #vergil x reader #vergil fanfiction #vergil #dmc vergil #vergil devil may cry #devil may cry 5 #dmc v #fanfic ask

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sugary-bluebell · 1 year

Note

Can I request genshin impact Short genshin boys (Specifically Tighnari, Cyno, Heizou, Venti, And Kazuha) with a lazy yet genius male reader. If you don’t do Headcanons with multiple people then I’ll let you choose one of the short boys

short boys with a lazy yet genius bf

《☆》《☆》《☆》《☆》

°•A/n: so, I left out Cyno since i don't have a good understanding of his character yet Imo, also so sorry for not writing this sooner, love. i have been a bit busy with things :')

◇Warnings◇: none(?)

°•Characters: Tighnari, Heizou, Venti and Kazuha

°•Reader: male, can be read as gn tho

Tighnari:

What is he gonna do with you?

Don't get him wrong, he absolutely adores you but can you PUlease get your work done?

As much as loves taking naps with you somewhere in the forest he doesn't want you putting your work till last minute

Again, might he add

You two first met in the academias library...you were passed out while reading for one of ur major exams the night before

While other scholars and students thought you were cheating your way through, cuz all they see you doing is napping or messing around

Tighnari has experienced ur hard work, and to answer ur question, no it wasn't because he was tutoring you or through a group project, we aren't in a romantic fantasy ofc or are we-

No, thanks to his good hearing, he can hear your mumbling when you're memorising or the scribblings of your pen when it hits the paper

You and him make a good team when it comes to research or work in general

He keeps you motivated to finish the said project without procrastinating and you not only remind him to take brakes, you have also stopped him from poisoning himself with wild mushrooms on multiple occasions-

You also love using his tail as a pillow, and he let's you! :D

Heizou:

Honestly, if it wasn't for your laziness, you would've given him a run for his mora-

ofc he'll never admit you could be a better detective than him, not only for his pride but also to keep Sara away from you

He LOVES when you visit his office <3

Plus you almost always bring snacks with you

Sometimes you tag along with him to the crim scenes

Yes, technically, he isn't allowed to bring you there but he loves when you help him out

And lemme tell you, he LOVES how after you two are done, your eyes get droopy and an adorable pout-

He'll die happy if you were his last memory

Venti:

While this alcoholic loves and appreciates how smart you are- he loves that your lazy way more

Why? Well, he likes napping with you during the afternoon on the hands of his statue, you also bring blankets and pillows too

Dw he helps getting them up there-

Every time there's an event at angels share he drags you with so you can calculate the cheapest price he can get for high quality wine

Loves listening to you rambling about ur work while slowly falling asleep <3

He does drag you on walks tho, he worries so daily walks in or out of mondstad is a thing

Offered you a sip of his fave wine only to drop his glass once you told him you figured out the ingredients and methods in making it

Kaeya lifting his eye patch with his jaw going slack in the background after hearing what you just said

Kazuha:

Goo goo eyes in your direction 24/7 from him but your too tired to notice

Loves reading poetry to you and loves getting feedback from his beloved bunny <3

Calls you bunny cuz he saw your cheek squashed against the table you were working on and thought of a bunny

You tried to write a poem for him but it took so long that you thought to give him it another day-

..only for him to find it and blush like a madman while reading what you wrote

It doesn't even have to be good cuz he's touched that you squeezed in the time to write this from him, knowing how many projects you have going on

When you pull all nighters, he lights calming sented candles, makes you the drink or snack of your choice, gives you a kiss on the forehead with encouraging words and leaves you be to focus

Looking into the things your passionate about to engage in a conversation about it just cuz it makes you happy and they way your eyes light up is just so beautiful to him

#genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact venti #genshin impact kaedehara kazuha #genshin impact heizou #genshin impact tighnari #genshin impact headcanons #m!reader #x male reader #x gn reader #gn!reader

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bagerfluff · 4 months

Text

Blush

Link x Non-Binary Reader

Prompt - Blushing

There were many things that you liked about life. But the thing you loved most was Link. Your blonde hair, blue eyes, skinny, muscular boyfriend.

And something you loved about him was how easy it was to get him to blush. Link would turn red at the littlest things. So you made it your mission to get it to blush. Some of your favorite things were.

Flowers

You walked up to Link’s house with flowers behind your body. It wasn’t anything special. It wasn’t your anniversary, valentines Day, or Link’s birthday. You just wanted to get him flowers.

They were Link’s favorite, white roses. You smiled as you rang the doorbell. After a couple minutes, the door opened and relieved Link. He was wearing a hoodie, your hoodie, and pajama pants.

Those weren’t yours. Link’s hair was also a mess, and his eyes were half liddle. You could tell he had just woken up. “Sorry I woke you up love” you apologized, but Link just smiled while he rubbed his eyes.

“It’s fine. I get to see you this morning” he said, looking at one of your hands, the one that was behind your back. You followed his gaze and smiled before moving your hand from behind your back. “I got you flowers” you smirk as Link’s face turns red.

Link took the flowers from your hand and smelled them. He then moved and gestured to you to come in. You spent the rest of the day cuddling with Link.

Love Poems

You were sitting at your dining room table as you wrote on a small piece of paper. You were writing a love poem for Link. You had spent the last few hours before you fell asleep last night starting it, and now, before you went to school, you were trying to finish it.

You were tapping your pencil against your desk while your other hand was running through your hair. You glanced up at the clock. Five minutes till you had to leave. You cursed under your breath and quickly finished the poem. You put it in your pocket, grabbed your bag, and ran. You got to school once you heard the first bell ring.

You were safe.

Once the first bell rang, the students had fifteen minutes to get to class. Enough time to hide to note in his locker and see his reaction. You walked over to Link’s locker and slipped it in. Perfect. A few minutes later, Link walked over to his locker, smiling when he saw you.

“Hey love” he smiled and kissed you. You kissed back and smiled while you spoke. “Hey Darling” you said once Link pulled away. “Where were you? I didn’t see you before the bell rang” Link asked with a head tilt. Making him look like a confused puppy. “Sorry I woke up late” you said, not wanting to tell Link about what you wrote.

You wanted it to be a surprise. Link nodded and moved to open his locker. “Sorry, I have to go. Love you” you said before pressing a kiss to Link’s face and walking away. Link smiled and waved to you. Little did Link now you were just going around the corner.

You watched as Link opened his locker, and the note fell out. Link picked up the note and blushed as he read it. He then placed it in his pocket and then started to get stuff out of his locker. You walked away with a smile on your face.

I Love You

The first time you said ‘I love you’ to Link, is when he blushed the most. You two were sitting on the beach watching the sun set. It was your third anniversary you two spent at the beach. Building sand castles, swimming, eating the food, and just spending time together.

You loved it.

Any day you spent with Link you loved.

You wanted to tell him since you first started dating. But you waited. Waiting till you felt like it was the right time. So when Link was resting on your chest while you were leaning back, both of you were completely silent as the waves crashed on the beach, the sun slowly moved down, the birds chipping.

That’s when it felt like the right moment. When you looked down, you could see Link. His eyes watch the sun, but your eyes watch him. He looked amazing.

Like a god.

So you reached down and pulled his face up to meet yours. Your hand under his chin, tilting his face up. Link blushed and tilted his head, asking what was up.

“I love you” you said, with so much happiness, happiness that you didn’t think was possible.

Your smile conveyed that happiness like your voice. Link blushed, his face now a tomato. “I love you too” he said after a couple minutes, his smile matching yours. You then moved Link closer to you so you could kiss.

The blush on Link’s face spread.

#legend of zelda #loz link #loz x reader #link loz #link x you #link x reader

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