#actually all because of you feels like a poem too. if you know what i mean?

[oatbugs]

procrastination is starting to have its consequences finally

#on my friends living room floor they love together but one of them has been london for weeks or maybe months #to be with her love. im on a foam mattress from one of their beds next to a glass bottle of water opened by one of them #in a mug given to me by another. the weather felt like my childhood today and it also felt like 2 years ago. #(put space in the heavens Einstein's idea and hes your friend too so nothing to fear) around the table they drank and laughed and i thought #i hope you keep growing so full with the love you receive . i hope your appetite becomes insatiable from how used to it you are #and i know youre all leaving soon but i hope one day you miss this and that youll be happy you miss it #its worth missing i think #i thought he didnt care but he said after exams hes going walk around this area over and over #(this is near where he lived and where we visited almost daily for a year) #(hed come across the bridge on a lake) #we went where she used to live and at the entrance a fox sat calmly. it just yawned and stared. #it felt important somehow. i think maybe their impressions of me will never be close to how i feel inside but i think #i love them enough for that not to matter. i dont think theyll ever know this. i dont think if they did it would change much. #and seeing them smile makes my heart glow anyway. today i tried their malaysian tea the ginger burned my throat #they warmed my heart. hes going to canada soon and hes going to the US soon and shes going everywhere soon ill never understand #how were supposed to live with memories and with seperation and with the past but we do it anyway so i think it doesnt matter much #i wanted to write a poem for the lab rats with the fibre optic wires lit with blue forcing them to turn around and around #something about how im sorry that the two photon arrays burned the inside of your brain. im sorry about the sharp points of multielectrode #arrayes. im sorry about everything we do to you. she asked to see me tomorrow. im trying to have self control but i miss her so awfully #last night my friend talked to me and i updated on everything that happened with love and the lack of it and she just started laughing #and she told me about the same thing from her side. and she told me about how she loved london because she would walk the streets #and she felt like the people were her. and her eyes would go over the people and the bag of bagels and the construction men they probably #have a kid at home maybe shes a daughter. this kid is crying for her mother and the building you just walked past caused #blisters and pain and people died in it and very likely people were born in it. we talked for hours and i felt like #i was holding her hand just like that time she held mine watching a horror film. i love her so much #my friend is a genius and i remember her picking up the charms of my phone and staring at the leaf hanging from them. shes side stepping to #music drinking dangerous cider and cocktails from a movie and chit chatting with billionaires and undergrads #i love her dearly. his head covered in electrodes. she tells me about a syrian guy shes in love with and she says #what you feel and what i feel is like cocaine. ive tried a lot of fucking cocaine. #she says ive reminded her of what living actually feels like and to never put energy into someone who doesnt see me this way.

[moinsbienquekaworu]

i am about to sleep but i wanted to ask what your favorite poem is? will you tell me about it? what you love and why it’s your favorite? do you like any of its translations? i love you. i hope you have a good day 🥰

(⁠〒⁠﹏⁠〒⁠) beloved thank you for the question!!! As per usual I am incapable of choosing just one of a thing, so I actually have two favourite poems, one in french and one in english (because poetry in french and in english can be pretty different since the codes and models and expectations aren't always the same!) They're the two poems I can recite and know by heart haha.

The english one is Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, by Robert Frost. I really like the last stanza (like everyone else) but also just the way when you say it out loud it does feel like a quiet moment watching the snow fall all on your own. I found it recently accompanying a fic (two different fics actually but the second time I knew it) and it entranced me!

The french one is Chanson d'Automne by Paul Verlaine. It's a classic in France, some of its lines were used as a signal for saboteurs during WWII and there's an urban legend it was used to signal the landing in Normandy. I personally had to learn it by heart in primary school (I think in 4th grade?) and it just stuck with me. I like it for the way it feels to me and the images it evokes, but also just because it was the first poem I learnt by heart and being able to recite a poem is an easily overlooked comfort of life (insert those posts and quotes about art being vital and what we need to be able to turn to in dark or light times)

Other poems I like include Remords Posthume and L'Albatros by Baudelaire, Le Dormeur du Val by Rimbaud, Le Déserteur and Je Voudrais Pas Crever by Boris Vian, Funeral Blues by W. H. Auden, and Mad Girl's Love Song by Sylvia Plath. The french ones I studied in school, and I found the english ones on my own (I feel like I found both in Johnlock fics?? but I might be wrong about Funeral Blues, it's been years) I included english translations where I could for the french ones, and they're not necessarily incredible but they should let you get the vibe. If one of them speaks to you I can try to explain what makes it tick! My personal anecdotes with those because that's half the fun: we had to analyse Remords Posthume for literature class with my best friend K, and what's really cool about it is the last line, "et le ver rongera ta peau comme un remords", because it plays on the homonymy between ver, the worm, and vers, the line of poetry, meaning she will be devoured physically by worms since she'll be dead but also that his verses, his poem, will make her feel remorse; I like the albatross analogy because I was a weird kid who felt comfortable with books but not with my peers; Le Dormeur du Val is extremely extremely sad and beautiful and I think Rimbaud was a very interesting guy; technically Le Déserteur is a song and not a poem but I first saw the text without knowing that so for me it's a poem forever now, and I love talking about the original versus final ending thing; the YouTube channel Le Mock did an excellent reading of Je Voudrais Pas Crever and it's a jewel, I love it so so much; Funeral Blues was the first english poem I ever liked (or maybe read honestly) and I wrote it on the cover of my 10th grade english notebook (because the teacher was great and said that if we forgot to do our homework he wouldn't punish us if we could recite a poem for him, so I wrote it down and tried to learn if by heart in case I forgot my homework); and Mad Girl's Love Song features in a fic I read a few weeks ago and I just think it's neat. I probably forgot some but those are the ones I remember right now (edit: ADA LIMÓN!! I FORGOT ADA LIMÓN!!! Accident Report in the Tall, Tall Weeds (the I can't help it, I love the way men love poem) hit me in the chest the first time I read it and it's so so good)

My favourites (and most of the poems I like actually) are pretty popular because I'm not really into poetry that much on my own. I get attached to poems once I see how they work inside and analyse them, but I don't sit down and decide to analyse some poem from Les Fleurs du Mal at random because it feels like homework, and I don't go looking for poetry because I'm very hit or miss (I get bored at long winded descriptions in those 4-part 7-pages poems and a lot of things trip up my instinctual Pretentiousness Radar™, and while it's not necessarily accurate it does turn me off poems). So I just stay with the basics, but that's fine, because the comfort of carrying poems with you is there whatever the poem is y'know?

Also question, do americans learn poetry in school? I assume you must analyse some in literature class, but I don't know if you learn poems when you're young. I know we also do lots of La Fontaine's Fables, though I personally never did, but learning poems to recite in primary school is a thing almost everyone has done here I think.

#i just like. literature and literary analysis. when it's like poetry and it rhymes. when there's literary devices for a reason. #i'm an english lit major for a reason!!! #thank you for reminding me of what i like in literature my classes are so boring it's hard to remember sometimes #also the sheer joy of explaining poems i like to people who don't know them #like i could not explain le dormeur du val to a french person because they already know it and associate it with boring literature classes #but you don't! because you weren't forced to spend hours of lit classes on it in 8th grade whether you liked it or not! #it's like - yes they're well known poems but they're popular for a reason y'know #oh an honorary poems are some songs. like mistki's songs? that's poetry. that's just poetry! #it's like le déserteur - it's a song but isn't it poetry too? when the text follows the same rules? when you can analyse it the same? #actually all because of you feels like a poem too. if you know what i mean? #and dans ma ville on traîne by orelsan reminds me of a primary school poem - l'école by jacques charpentreau #it's all poetry and it's so cool and i love it #OH and racine's plays. they're not Poetry poetry - they're plays - but they rhyme in their entirety and follow a specific pattern #that's poetry!! that's just poetry!!!! #if you want me to get phèdre out and read you some racine i would be delighted to it's so nice to listen to #there's a rhythm to it and it becomes much easier to understand once you say it out loud - like shakespeare #anyway. LITERATURE. #wow i have a ramble tag now #wow i have an asks tag now #i love the way men love indeed

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

#every time someones like ''AI will replace u" im like. u will have to fucking KILL ME #there is no replacement here bc i am not filling a position. i am just writing #and the writing is what i need to be doing #writeblr #this probably doesn't make sense bc its sooo frustrating i rarely speak it the way i want to #edited for the typo wrote it and then was late to a meeting lol #i love u people who mention my typos genuinely bc i don't always catch them!!!! :) it is doing me a genuine favor!!! #my friend says i should tell you ''thank you beta editors'' but i don't know what that means #i made her promise it isn't a wolf fanfiction thing. so if it IS a wolf thing she is DEAD to me (just kidding i love her) #hey PS PS PS ??? if ur reading this thinking what it's saying is ''i am financially capable of losing this'' ur reading it wrong #i write for free. i always have. i have worked 5-7 jobs at once to make ends meet. #i did not grow up with access or money. i did not grow up with connections or like some kind of excuse #i grew up and worked my fucking ASS OFF. and i STILL!!! wrote!!! on the side!!! because i didn't know how not to!!! #i do not write for money!!!! i write because i fuckken NEED TO #i could be in the fucking desert i could be in the fuckken tundra i could be in total darkness #and i would still be writing pretentious angsty poetry about it #im not in any way saying it's a good thing. i'm not in any way implying that they're NOT tryna kill us #i'm saying. you could take away our jobs and we could go hungry and we could suffer #and from that suffering (if i know us) we'd still fuckin make art. #i would LOVE to be able to make money doing this! i never have been able to. but i don't NEED to. i will find a way to make my life work #even if it means being miserable #but i will not give up this thing. for the whole world.

[waitimcomingtoo]

A Film By Peter Parker

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Peter gets back into making little videos once the two of you start hanging out

warning: extreme 2017 homecoming era nostalgia

Masterlist

Of course he went for Liz.

Liz was the ingénue. She was perfect in every possible way. Perfect grades, perfect face, and the perfect boy pining after her. You’d been crushing on Peter since the third grade but with Liz around, he never noticed you.

But Liz was gone now. She had moved to Oregon following her dad’s arrest and taken Peter’s feelings for her with her. Now that she was gone, you decided it was time to stop pining after Peter from afar and start pining from up close. And so, when you walked into the cafeteria that day, you didn’t sit at the end of the table like you usually did.

“Oh, hey.” Peter smiled in surprise when you sat down next to him. Smiling was good. Smiling meant he wasn’t creeped out by you sitting so close. You gulped before giving him best smile back.

“Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” Ned asked, making Peter give him a look. You immediately regretted your decision and wished you’d just stayed in your usual spot.

“What do you mean? She always sits with us.” Peter pointed out.

“No, she always sits down there. She’s never actually sat with us before.” Ned replied and gestured to the end of the lunch table.

“Yes, but I’m sitting here today because I needed Peters help with the chemistry homework.” You said and put your chemistry notebook on the table. You knew you couldn’t just randomly sit with them without a reason, so you came prepared.

“Oh, for Mr. Eddie’s class? It’s easy. I’ll show you my notes.” Peter’s offered with a smile. You returned the smile as he pulled out his own notebook. It was a win/win for you since you actually needed help with the homework and it would start a conversation with Peter. While he was explaining the problem to you, you never once looked down at the notebook. You were too focused on the curve of Peter’s suspiciously long eyelashes, the longest you’d ever seen on a boy. Ned noticed the way you were staring his his best friend and frowned a little.

“Does that make sense?” Peter’s asked when he was done explaining.

“Yeah, it does. Wow, thanks Peter. It sounds so easy the way you explain it. I wish this stuff came as naturally to me as it does for you. You’re so smart.” You said as if you had listened to a single word he had said.

“That’s nice of you to say but I’m really not that smart. I just like chemistry.” He replied as he blushed from the compliment.

“Oh, come on. You’re the smartest guy I know. You’re the only one that answers questions in that class. And you always get them right. When Mr. Eddie asks if anyone has any questions, I don’t raise my hand because I don’t even know what I’m confused about yet.”

“That’s I feel in English. I can barely make it through the first line in a poem and you’re already going back and forth with Ms. Teague about Pindaric odes or whatever they’re called.”

“You listen to when I talk in English?” You asked with a soft smile.

“Of course I do.” Peter shrugged. “I always find the reading boring until you raise your hand and talk about how you interpreted it. You make it interesting.”

“I liked that book we read when the kids ate the other kids.” Ned said and interrupted the moment. Your smile dropped as you and Peter looked at him with disgust.

“The one with the flies-“

“We know.” Peter cut him off.

“Anyways, thank you for helping me with the homework. I’ve been stuck on it all week.” You said to Peter.

“Ugh. That’s been me with my paper for Mrs. Teagues class. And it’s due tomorrow.” Peter groaned.

“Oh, the analysis essay? I could help you with that.” You offered.

“Really? You’d help me?” Peter smiled in surprise.

“Yeah. I already wrote mine. It would be no problem.”

Ned was watching this back and forth conversation for a while until it clicked it in head. He gasped and slapped the table, making you and Peter look at him.

“Oh my God.” Ned said. “That’s why you’re sitting here. You have a-“

“Can I talk to you for a second, Ned?” You quickly cut him off when you realized where that sentence was going. Before Ned could even answer, you grabbed his arm and pulled him outside the cafeteria to talk in private.

“You like Peter!” Ned whispered harshly. You clamped your hand over his mouth and pushed him up against the wall.

“You need to keep your mouth shut.” You hissed. “Yes, I like Peter, okay? I’ve had a crush on Peter since middle school. He never noticed me when Liz was around but now that she’s in Oregon, I might finally have my chance. I don’t want to scare him off so just keep your mouth shut and let me handle this.”

You took your hand off Ned’s mouth and he started to gasp for air.

“Oh, please. Your nose wasn’t covered. You could breathe just fine.” You said with a roll of your eyes. Ned stopped pretended and straightened up.

“So you actually like Peter? For his personality?”

“Yes. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Kinda, yeah.” Ned admitted.

“I like everything about him. And I’m gonna tell him that. Just please, don’t say anything before I do. I’ll tell him when I’m ready.”

“Are you going to cast a love spell on him using a lock of his hair?” Ned whispered to you.

“What? No. Why would you even ask me that?”

“Because you’re a witch.” Ned said like it was obvious.

“I’m not a witch.” You groaned. “I just accidentally cackled that one time but it was only because I had phlegm in my throat.”

“Then about that time on the bus?”

“We’ve been over this. It was just a coincidence that that biker fell off his bike after I gestured with my hand. I didn’t move him with my mind.”

“And that one time in physics?” Ned narrowed his eyes.

“I still don’t know how that guys shirt caught on fire.” You shrugged. “It’s a mystery to me.”

“It caught on fire after he made fun of you for being a witch.” Ned pointed out.

“Maybe he was just standing too close to the flame.” You shrugged.

“He was standing in the doorway. There was no flame.” Ned reminded you.

“The magic of science.” You shrugged again.

“But what about that time-“

“Don’t bring up the nosebleed.” You whined.

“I am gonna bring up the nosebleed.” Ned hissed. “In sixth grade, our Spanish teacher got a nosebleed right after he told you to stop staring out the window and made everyone laugh at you. How do you explain that?”

“You’ve made your point, okay? Now are you gonna tell Peter or not?”

“Look, I’m not gonna expose your gross secret feelings, as gross and secret as they may be.” Ned sighed. “But Peter is still my best friend so I have to look out for him. I don’t want any spells cast on him.”

“That’s fine. There will not be any spells.” You held your your hands in defense. Just then, Flash walked by and laughed when he saw the two of you talking.

“Woah. What is this, the friendless loser convention?” Flash snorted.

“Shut up.” You snapped. Flash immediately tripped over his feet and fell to the ground, making Ned look at you with wide eyes.

“Witch!” He whispered harshly as he pointed a finger at you.

“Shut up. Let’s go back inside.” You rolled your eyes and pulled Ned back into the cafeteria.

Later that day, you met up with Peter in the library to go over your assignments. You started with his English essay and finished that within an hour before moving on to your chemistry homework.

“You can plug the numbers into your formula now using the method I taught you. And then you just solve for x.” Peter explained as you worked out a problem together.

“Hm. You make it sound so simple.” You sighed and leaned on your hand. Peter saw the way you were staring at him in his peripheral vision and felt his face heat up.

“It’s, uh, it’s pretty easy once you get the hang of it. I never liked the way Mr. Eddie taught it. I figured this out myself and it’s worked much better for me.”

“Thanks for helping me. You’re a good teacher.” You said and put your hand on his arm. Peter laughed shyly at the contact and cleared his throat.

“Thanks. And so are you. That was the best essay I’ve ever produced. I honestly worry she won’t believe I wrote it.”

“Well if she says anything, I can vouch for you. You put in good work on this essay. You deserve the credit.” You assured him, making Peter blush all over again. It occurred to Peter that he never realized how pretty you were. You’d been classmates since 3rd grade so he always looked at you as just another girl in his class. Now that you had his full attention, he didn’t feel like looking away.

“Thanks. I appreciate you helping me write it. I know it can be frustrating to work with me because of my dyslexia.”

“It’s no problem. And it wasn’t frustrating at all.” You shrugged. Peter smiled at felt better about how long it took him to write the essay.

“Thanks.” He said. You had successfully gotten him to spend time with you one on one but now you needed to commence the next phase in your plan which was to hang out in a non school related setting.

“Would you ever want to hang out socially?” You blurted.

“Like, and not do homework?” He asked. You nodded your head and he smiled before nodding as well.

“Yeah. Sure. I’d love to.”

“Cool. Me too.” You smiled. You hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that but it worked nonetheless.

“Does this weekend work?” He asked you.

“Yeah. What do you want to do?”

Hard cut to that weekend. You were on the subway with Peter and he had his phone out to record himself.

“Firts social hang out with a girl. A film by Peter Parker.” He said in a low voice before flipping the camera to face you.

“Staring me.” You smiled and waved to the camera.

“Are you sure you’re cool with me filming this?” Peter asked as he flipped the camera back to himself.

“Yeah, of course. The other ones you showed me were so cute. But why did it seem like there were so many missing parts? You were always talking about something cool that I didn’t get to see.”

“Uhhh, no reason.” Peter said and looked to the side. He had skillfully edited out any incriminating superhero activity that you were not ready to see yet.

“Well I like it. I feel like I’m on Modern Family.” You said and posed for the camera.

“Which family member would you be?” Peter laughed and zoomed in on you. With his phone blocking his face, he could shamelessly admire your face on his screen.

“Duh. Lily.”

“I can so see that.” He chuckled. The subway lurched suddenly and you both grabbed onto the pole, coincidentally putting your hands in top of each others.

“Oh, sorry. Our hands touched.” You laughed shyly.

“Oh my God. So romantic.” Peter joked, making you blush and look into his camera.

“Stop it.” You laughed and covered his phone with your hand. He laughed as well and put his phone away.

After learn you had never been, Peter decided to the Lego Store. He’d been hyping it up to you all week over text and now that it was finally happening, he hoped it impressed you. You walked in together and Peter heard you gasp.

“Big Lego Aladdin.” You gasped and ran to stand under the giant magic carpet and Aladdin made of Legos.

“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard that string of words come out of someone’s mouth.” Peter laughed and went to stand under it with you. You looked over at him and were surprised to see he was already looking at you.

“This is even better than you described it. You need to show me everything.” You said and excitedly shook his arm.

“I can do that.” He blushed and nodded his head towards some of the sets.

Peter took out his phone to film you as you looked at everything in the store. The way you were looking around like a little kid brought a smile to Peter’s face. He zoomed in on you and caught himself staring at you fondly through the camera.

“Come on. I haven’t even showed you the coolest part yet.” Peter said and brought you over to the build your figure own station. He laughed when you gasped again and started to excitedly rummage through all the pieces. Peter didn’t bring his phone out again until you had built each other.

“Show me what you made.” He laughed from the other side of the phone.

“Looks! It’s a little Peter. He has a backpack and a beaker.” You said as you proudly showed the camera the little Peter figure you had made.

“This is Y/n. I can’t believe I found the shoes you always wear.” He said as he filmed the figure he had made of you.

“You notice my shoes?” You asked with a smile. Peter didn’t catch it because he was too busy fitting the hands of your Lego figures together.

“Look. They’re holding hands.” Peter gasped.

“Aw.” You laughed. “Us on the subway.”

“We should give them some privacy. They might not want us to hard launch their relationship.” Peter said and put his phone away.

“You’re so cute.” You laughed without thinking about it. Peter looked up at you with rosy cheeks and you gulped when you realized what you said.

“I mean-“

“Come on. I wanna take you somewhere else.” He cut you off before you could explain. He brought you to Delmar’s and ordered his usual for you to split. You sat together inside and you tried your best to remain calm. You always wondered what Peter got up to when he wasn’t at school and now you were in one of his favorite places and eating with him.

“Okay, this is Y/n’s first time eating at Delmars since he reopened. Let’s get her reaction.” Peter said as he filmed you unwrapping the sandwich.

“Wait, why is it so flat?” You laughed and held the sandwich up.

“Oh, sorry.” He chuckled. “I forgot to warn you that he always squishes it for me. But you’ll like it. Trust me. It’s much better when it’s squished down real flat.”

“Well I’m glad I now know you like your sandwiches to be squished. I would not have expected that about you.” You said and took a bite of your half before giving him a thumbs up.

“Yeah? You like it?” He asked hopefully.

“I do. Your squishy sandwich was surprisingly good.” You admitted.

“Well, I’m very pleased to hear that.” Peter smiled and phone away. “So to make it even, you have to show me one of your favorite places next time we hang out.”

“Oh.” You smiled coyly. “I didn’t realize there would be a next time.”

“There better be. I had a lot of fun with you today. How come we’ve never hung out before?”

“I don’t know. I always wanted to but you were busy running around with Ned or staring at…” You trailed off and chose not to mention Liz in case he was still hung up on her.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m just glad we’re friends now.” You said instead.

“Me too. I’ve never had a girl friend.”

“What was that?” You said and started choking on your saliva.

“All my friends in my life were guys. It’ll be nice to have a female influence in my life.”

“Oh. Girl friend.” You smiled tightly.

You hung out another hour before taking the subway back to your respective apartments. Peter walked to you the front doors of you building and you had an awkward moment where you didn’t know if you should hug or not.

“We uh, we should probably get an ending for your film.” You said with a timid smile.

“Oh, right. Thats a great idea.” Peter smiled and pulled out his phone. He pressed record and you waved to the camera with both hands.

“So, can you give our first time hanging out a rating?” He asked you.

“9/10.” You grinned and held up two thumbs.

“What? Why’d I only get a 9?” Peter scoffed and pretended to be offended.

“I had a 10/10 time but I have to deduct a point because we saw that guy cutting his hair on the subway and I was scared he was gonna throw the scissors at us.”

“Well I would’ve just protected you with my lightning fast reflexes.” Peter said simply. You smiled at him through the phone and he smiled back. He put the camera down and looked at you with a content smile on his face.

“Seriously, though. When’s the next time we’re hanging out?”

It ended up being just a few days later. And then again a few days after that.

“Peter’s first time!” You cheered as you filmed him during one of your hang outs.

“Trying boba.” He clarified. “I don’t understand this drink. Do I eat the balls?”

“Yes. Sip it slowly so they don’t all go down your throat.” You instructed. Peter took a big sip and immediately started choking.

“Peter! I said slowly!” You said as you slapped his back until he stopped choking. You quickly put the camera down to help him recover.

Your hangouts started getting more and more frequent and Peter soon considered you a best friend. Your weekends became each others and school days were often spent together in the library or at one of your apartments. You were quickly moving up the ranks in Peter’s life, just as you hoped. And the closer you got, the more Peter could not believe he had never noticed you before.

Little did you know, Peter often found himself watching the footage he had taken of you during your hang outs with a big smile on his face. He’d rewatch the videos he had taken and realize that they were slowly becoming less of a documentary and more of a highlight reel for you. He never imagined a girl as cool as you would for him so when he realized he was starting to fall for you, he quickly repressed his feelings. Little did he know, the feelings were mutual.

“Did you always make these little videos?” You asked Peter one day as he filmed you trying to balance on the curb of the sidewalk.

“I used too make them all the time but I hadn’t for awhile. I only started them again when we started hanging out.”

“Really? Why?” You wondered and stumbled off the curb.

“I don’t know. You remind me of the time before my life got crazy. It made me want to do these again.” He shrugged. You couldn’t help but smile at that information and turned around to look at him.

“So I could be the star?” You asked and posed for the camera.

“Exactly. You’re my muse.” He played along, making you laughed shyly. When he watched the video back later that night, he knew he had meant every word of that.

Peter sat in his bedroom one day and filmed himself wearing your glasses while you did homework at his desk. He looked over you every now and then just to admire the back of your head.

“Don’t break those.” You called without looking up. All you needed to hear was the sound of your glasses case opening to know what he was doing.

“I’m not even wearing your glasses.” He lied and admired himself in the camera.

“Yes you are.”

“No I’m not. But yes, I am.”

“Knew it.” You snorted.

“Hey, how come girls always smell so good?” Peter wondered. “Your hair hit me in the face when you turned too fast before it smelled like a baby in a damn meadow.”

“It’s just my womanly essence. Now can you stop looking at yourself long enough to help me with my chemistry homework?”

“It’ll be hard but I can try.” Peter dramatically sighed and set his phone down. You got yo from the desk and went over to the bed with a cheeky smile on your face.

“Incoming.” You announced and patted your elbow twice like a wrestler.

“No, don’t.” He pleaded. You ignored his pleas and jumped on top of him. He groaned and pushed you off, leaving you laying in the bed beside him.

“Ow. My ribs.”

“You’ll heal.” You rolled your eyes. “Now can you help me with number 7?”

“Oh, yeah. No problem. Can you check this email before I send it?” He asked and handed over his laptop. You handed him your worksheet before reading over his email draft.

“Oh, honey.” You grimaced just a few words into the email.

“Is it bad?”

“Good evening, Mrs. Howard. I hope this email finds you well. I’m so sorry for bothering you. I was just wondering if I could possibly have an extension on my midterm paper? No worries at all if an extension is not possible. I apologize for any inconvenience this email may have caused. Thank you for reading, Peter Parker.” You read out loud.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“After your name, you included the name of the class, the time you have it, and a description of yourself. She knows who you are!” You laughed and turned the laptop around to show him his mistakes.

“She may have forgotten.” He pointed out. “I can’t take any chances.”

“Peter, this email is way too submissive. You sound like such a bottom.”

“Well excuse me, genius.” He said sarcastically. “How would you write it?”

“Here.” You said and handed the laptop back after retyping his email.

“Oh, wow. That’s actually really good.” He said once he read your updated version.

“This is why we are such good friends. You have all the math and science knowledge in this little, beautiful head of yours-“

“Little?” He interrupted.

“You’re right. Sorry, I was just being nice. What I meant to say is that your head is huge.” You corrected. “Anyways, you have the math brain and I have the literary brain. It’s like you’re Einstein and I’m Victor Hugo.”

“Who the hell is that?” He laughed as he peaked at your mirror to see if his head was actually huge.

“The guy who wrote Les Mis.” You said like it was obvious.

“Never heard of it.”

“What? You’ve never seen Les Misérables?” You asked in a thick French accent.

“Huh?”

“We have to watch it. It’s so good.” You said and snatched his laptop back. You pulled up the movie and handed it back to him.

“Oh my God. It’s two hours and 38 minutes long? And a musical? Hell no.” Peter shook his head and pushed the laptop away.

“But it’s so good.” You urged. “We can just leave it on in the background while we work. It’s super light and easy to watch.”

“Really? What’s it about?”

“Oh, you know. Just war torn France.” You mumbled.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“But you’ll like it! There’s prostitution and con men and um…oh! And orphans! You can watch it and feel represented.” You said and shook his arm.

“I hate you.” He laughed but nearly gave in to your request just to see you happy.

“Fine.” You huffed. “I finished editing your midterm paper, by the way. You don’t actually have to send that email.”

“And here is your completed chemistry homework.” Peter smiled and handed your worksheet back.

“Aw.” You gushed. “Look at us. I love cheating with you.”

“So do I. We make a great pairing.” He chuckled as he looked over at you. You looked back at him and gulped. You hadn’t realized how close you were with your arms and legs pressed against each other as you sat together in your bed. Peter knew his sheets would smell like your perfume that night and smiled at the thought.

“Now that we’re all done with our work, you know what we should do?” He asked as he moved in closer.

“W-what should we do?” You stuttered now that he was right there.

“You know what I’ve been dying to do with you for a long, long time?” He asked.

“No. I mean, I don’t know. What?” You laughed nervously. Peter moved in even closer and right when you thought he was gonna kiss you, he reached over and grabbed his laptop back.

“I wanted to show you a real musical. Not this French miserable bull crap. Have you ever seen a little movie called Hair-“

“No. I’m not watching Hairspray with you again. You scream-sang every lyric last time and I couldn’t even hear it.” You cut him off and reached over home to take the laptop back. He pulled it away at the last second and you ended up on top of him. You looked into each others eyes and both froze in the positions you were in. Your faces were almost touching but neither of you tried to pull away. Your eyes were going back and forth between his lips and eyes and he was doing the same. Like magnets, you two started to lean towards each other but before your lips could connect, May opened the door.

“What did you guys want- oh! Sorry! I didn’t realize I would be interrupting something. My bad.” May smiled sheepishly and pretended to cover her eyes. Peter burned bright red as you quickly climbed off of him.

“May.” He said warningly.

“Sorry. But maybe lock the door next time. And use protection.”She whispered the last part before shutting the door.

“May!” He groaned and threw a pillow at the door. There was a long, awkward silence before you were even able to look at each other. When you finally did, you smiled awkwardly and kept your distance.

“That was so weird. What did she think we were doing?” You laughed nervously to break the silence.

“Psh. I know.” Peter scoffed. “She said she was interrupting but we weren’t even doing anything.”

“Yeah. What did she think? That we were gonna kiss or something?” You asked and laughed like it was the most ridiculous thing you could ever suggest.

“Us? Kissing? How silly. Imagine that.” Peter forced a laugh as well and looked to the side. The awkward silence returned and you struggled to look at each other.

“Do you think she made dinner?” Peter asked after a beat of silence.

“Let’s check.” You said and quickly got off the bed.

You didn’t discuss the almost kiss and went home shortly after. You couldn’t sleep that night because you couldn’t stop replaying the moment in your mind. No matter how much you wanted him to like you back, if Peter reciprocated your feelings, he would have kissed you.

Your pity party didn’t last long because on the subway the next day, you felt Peter put his earbud in your ear. You heard the Les Mis soundtrack playing in your ear and looked up in surprise. Peter was already filming you with a huge smile on his face.

“This guy 24601 should stop stealing bread and stick to singing. He has serious pipes.” Peter said.

“You listened to it?” You melted into a smile and held your hand over your heart.

“Yep. I stayed up all night watching lyric videos because I couldn’t understand what they were saying with their accents. It’s actually really good. I love Eponine. I just wish Marious wasn’t such an idiot. How does he not see that his best friend is clearly in love with him?” Peter asked with exasperation. You looked directly at the camera and hoped it picked up the irony before looking at Peter again.

“He’s not an idiot. He’s a romantic.” You sighed. “He doesn’t notice Eponine because he’s in love with Cosette. And course he is. She’s prettier and richer and has perfect hair. He doesn’t even see Eponine.”

“Good hair isn’t everything. Eponine is way better than Cosette.” Peter scoffed. “I’m team Eponine all the way.”

“Are you really?” You asked hopefully.

“Oh, for sure. I see why you like this stuff. These songs are awesome.” Peter said and put the other earbud in his ear. He then flipped the camera around to film the two of you sharing earbuds. As Heart Full Of Love played in your ears, you couldn’t help but longingly staring at Peter. The fact that he had stayed up late just to listen to something you suggested made you overcome with fondness for him. If he had done something like that, maybe he actually did feel the same.

“I forgot how good this album is. I haven’t listened in a while. I used to listen to it all the time back when you…” You stopped short when you realized you were about to say too much.

“When I what?” Peter wondered. You looked him in the eyes and decided that it was time to be honest. The song ended and a new, much louder one began to play in your ears.

“Back when you liked Liz. She was Cosette. I was Eponine. I was the one pining after a guy who never noticed me because he was in love with another girl. You were never mine to lose.” You admitted. Peter stared at you for a minute before pulling his earbud out.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear a word you just said. Master of the House is such a banger. What did you say?” He asked you.

“Never mind.” You smiled. “It wasn’t important.”

He smiled back before getting a text on his phone. You looked at his phone when you heard it buzz and realized he was still recording. In other words, he had just recorded you saying you liked him. Your eyes went wide but you only had a second to panic when you read the text he had gotten.

“Did Liz just text you?” You asked in a quiet voice. You felt like you were about to throw up. Years of crushing on a boy who liked another girl turned into months of pinning for your best friend and now turned into a rock in your stomach. Peter stopped recording the two of you to answer her text, which felt a little like a slap in the face.

“Oh, yeah. We’ve been talking lately.” He absentmindedly replied to you as he laughed at whatever she had written.

“You have?” You asked with a dry mouth.

“Yeah. She says Oregon is pretty cool. But she wants to come back and visit this summer to see everyone.” He told you.

“And see you?” You asked with a sad smile.

“I guess so.” He shrugged. “It would be nice to see her.”

“Yeah. Totally.” You said weakly. “So how long have you guys been talking?”

“I don’t know. A few weeks? She texted me a little while ago and we’ve been catching up.”

“That’s awesome.” You lied.

“I know. I didn’t think I’d ever hear from her again after she moved.”

“Neither did I.” You said through a forced smile. You needed to get off the subway and away from Peter before you started crying. So as soon as the subway doors opened, you bolted out.

“I gotta go. See you later.” You called to him before running through the subway station. You wiped tears as you went up the stairs and didn’t stop moving until you were in a bathroom stall at school. You gave yourself five minutes to be upset before drying your face and leaving the bathroom. It sucked, but it could have been worse. Now, Peter never had to know how you felt about it.

Peter was beyond confused by your exit on the subway but he wasn’t about to get any answers from you. You dodged his texts throughout the day and didn’t dare go into the lunchroom where you knew he and Ned would be.

“Y/n isn’t here yet?” Peter’s huffed as he sat down at your usual lunch table.

“Not yet. Actually, I haven’t seen your girlfriend all day.” Ned realized.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Peter blushed. “And I’m pretty sure she’s avoiding me. She’s been so weird ever since this morning. Everything was fine on the subway until we got to school.”

“Well did anything happen on the subway that would weird her out? Oh no. Did you graze her boob with your hand again?”

“No. That was one time. And it was her boobs fault, not mine.” Peter whispered harshly. “We were just listening to music together and I was filming her like normal. But she could not get away from me faster once the doors opened. It was so weird.”

“Did you say anything weird to her? Girls don’t like it when you say weird things to them.”

“I know that. I didn’t say anything weird.” Peter replied as he pulled out his phone. He watched the video he had taken on the subway with no sound to see where he had gone wrong. All he saw was you looking at him with heart eyes which made his face heat up. But still, no evidence of where he messed up.

“I knew it. We were having a normal conversation about Les Mis and then I got a text from and then she ran. It makes no sense.”

“What was the text? Was it May saying something weird?”

“No. And stop saying weird. It doesn’t sound like a real word anymore.” Peter ordered. “And the text was just from Liz.”

“Oh shit.” Ned said when he heard this.

“What?” Peter wondered.

“Oh, Peter.” Ned sighed. “Peter, Peter, Peter.”

“What?” He asked again, annoyed now.

“Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter.”

“Are you gonna tell me what happened or just keep saying my name?”

“I can’t tell you. I’m sworn to secrecy. And I don’t want Y/n to put a hex on my family.” Ned said and held up his hands.

“Y/n swore you to secrecy? About what?”

“Can’t say.” Ned shrugged and zipped his lips.

“Does she not like Liz? And doesn’t want me to know?”

“Dude. Dude, dude, dude, dude. You are so close but so far.”

“So she does like Liz? Oh my God. Does she a crush on Liz? And she’s jealous that Liz texted me and not her?” Peter whispered with wide eyes.

“You’re getting colder.” Ned waved his hand. “I don’t even know how you got there.”

“That was all my guesses. Just tell me.” Peter whined.

“Hell no. I don’t want Y/n to curse my crops and make not grow for all of eternity.”

“You don’t have crops.” Peter pointed out.

“I could develop some.” Ned snapped.

“I just don’t understand what she would tell you something but not tell me. We’re best friends. She usually tells me everything.” Peter said right as his thumb accidentally hit the volume button on the video. Your confession to Peter on the subway was heard loud and clear by the two boys. Both of their jaws dropped as the video ended with you asked if Liz had just texted Peter.

“Well I wouldn’t have beaten around the bush like that if I knew you had video evidence of her saying she liked you right in your hands.” Ned sighed dramatically.

“I need to find her.” Peter said and ran out of the lunchroom. He looked around the school until he found you under the bleachers in the gym. You were sitting with your back against the wall and your knees drawn to your chest with your earbuds in your ears. When you saw Peter coming up to you, you quickly pulled them out.

“Hey.” He said and waved cautiously.

“Hey.” You smiled sadly as he sat beside you. You sat in silence for a minute as neither of you knew what to say.

“What’s going on with you? I haven’t seen you all day.” He started off. You looked at your hands to avoid making eye contact and sighed.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been talking to Liz?” You asked quietly.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t hiding it. I just didn’t think it would interest you.”

“Well you have no idea how interesting I found it.” You laughed dryly. “What do you guys talk about anyway?”

“Well, she originally texted me to ask me to confirm I had an internship at Stark Industries because her boyfriend didn’t believe her when she told him she knew a guy who worked there. Apparently he’s been trying to get an internship there for years and he wanted to know how I landed mine. Then we just started catching up. I only talk to her here and there, though. And it’s only ever about school or work.”

“Oh. I thought you guys were talking talking.” You couldn’t help but smile a little when you heard the word “boyfriend.”

“No.” He shook his head. “Just regular talking. When you saw her text on my phone, she was telling me about her cat getting spaded. And I didn’t know what that meant so she had to tell me. I should’ve just googled it.”

You laughed softly at that and he did too. The tension was let out of the conversation and you could finally breathe again. When you stopped laughing, you finally looked in his eyes.

“Do you still have feelings for her?” You asked quietly.

“For her? No.” He laughed. “Those are long gone. I have feelings for someone else now.”

“Oh God. Don’t even tell me. I don’t want to know.” You groaned and buried your face in your hands. Peter looked at you for a minute until an idea came to him.

“Actually, uh, I came looking for you because I was just making another video. Wanna be in it?” Peter asked and took out his phone. You looked at him like he was crazy and could not believe he had just asked that during that moment.

“I’m not really in the mood right now, P.”

“Come on. I can’t make it without my muse.” He said and nudged you slightly. You couldn’t help but to smile at that and reluctantly nodded. He propped up his phone against the bleachers and pressed record.

“In a world where two best friends have no idea how to communicate despite spending way too much time together.” Peter said in a fake deep, gravely voice.

“Okay. Shade. That’s fine.”

“What will it take for them to admit they have feelings for each other?” He kept the voice as he looked at you.

“Wait, what?” You asked and looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. Peter smiled softly at you and shrugged a little.

“What’s it gonna take?” He asked again in his normal voice.

“I don’t understand.” You laughed nervously.

“I watched the video from before. From the subway. I heard what you said.” He admitted.

“Oh shit. You watched it?” You grimaced.

“Uh huh. So if you’re Eponine, I guess that makes me the idiot who didn’t realize his best friend was in love with him?”

“I guess so.” You said with a tight smile and still didn’t understand why he wanted to film this incredibly awkward conversation.

“You know, if I didn’t have a video of it, I never would have believed that you liked me.” Peter told you.

“You wouldn’t? Why not?”

“Because it doesn’t seem possible that the coolest girl I’ve ever met liked me.” He replied.

“You think I’m cool?” You asked skeptically.

“I think you’re the coolest. And you know, I watch the videos I take of you all the time. And half of them are just clips of you existing. So I do notice you. It just took me a second to catch up.” He told you. A smile tugged at your lips as you stared into his big brown eyes.

“You’re my best friend.” You told him. “I’m sorry I want more.”

“I’m not sorry.” He shrugged.

“You’re not?”

“I’m just sorry it took me so long to wake up and find that what I’ve been looking for has been here the whole time.” He said as he hooked his pinky under your chin and brought your face close to his.

“Wait, why does that sound so familiar?” You wondered.

“Don’t think about it too hard.” Peter whispered right before your lips touched. You kissed for the first time under the bleachers but it could have been in a palace for all you knew. The world disappeared around you as Peter slipped a hand behind your head to deepen the kiss. When you pulled away, you rested your foreheads together and laughed nervously together. It was a good nervous, a happy feeling of anticipation.

“Was that Taylor Swift?” You realized when you finally placed where you knew that like from.

“Shh. No.” He shook his head. “But yes, it was. You’re not the only one with good music taste.”

Tag List 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

@pandaxnienke

 @officialsimppage @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours

@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85

@olixerwxxd @leilanixx

@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@mathletemadison  

@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr

@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@ciarahollands

@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #Peter Parker mutual pining #peter parker x best friend!reader #spiderman homecoming #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x y/n #peter parker x y/n

[blingblong55]

"your girl?" "My girl.."-Simon ghost Riley NSFW

Photo credits: @ave661

this is a collab with my bestie @aethelwyneleigh27 Part 1 is here ---- F!Reader, 18+, MDNI, smut, soft!sex, breeding, possessive, chubby!reader, unprotected!sex, fwb to lovers, P-IN-V, oral!sex ----

A/N: I think the song linked fits so perfectly with this

He managed to calm your nerves and give you reassurance with just the way he nodded with his warm lips finding your neck again. You felt enough adrenaline to kiss him, like actually kiss him on his lips.

Romantic, soft and sweet yet passionate, Simon couldn't help himself, guiding and backing you up on the kitchen countertop. He took it as an opportunity to hoist you up on it by your waist, squirming a bit as the marble was like ice underneath your thighs, your legs propped open with him comfortably in between.

Of all the things, the grey sweatpants and refusal to even come close to wearing a shirt surely didn't help to calm where your mind is running.

He pressed his forehead on yours, closing his eyes and basking in the feeling of this with you, his breath on your skin felt different now...

"I meant what I said," he whispers as his calloused hands move your hair away from your sweet face. "You're my girl now, Y/N," he says as he leans forward, his lips coming in contact with yours. There is a special kind of softness to the kiss but it's all masked from the passion he has for you. "You're something so dear to me," he says between nibbles and kisses to the soft and weak spot on your neck. You can feel it too, the certainty that tonight is more than just another time where you and him get tangled in the sheets. 

Was it important to let you know all this as undresses you? Yes, because for so long he can voice the emotions he felt every time he worshipped your body. 

Maybe with time, the sneaking into your bed to fuck you raw was more than just that. 

Maybe it was a rough poem of his emotions. 

Your legs wrap around his waist, your head thrown back as he leaves marks of his confused heart on your neck. 

"Fuck...I need you...do you know that?" he looks back up at you and cups your face with his hands. Why does it all feel so different now?

You nod and he smiles. It was a routine he knew best, which is why by now, those precious panties of yours hit the ground, your gown tossed to the side as he kneeled and captured your soft thighs in kisses. Your hands run through his hair, admiring how good he looks in this light and this position. 

"God...Simon," you whisper as his lips get closer to your soaking cunt. A chuckle escapes him. "Already wet for me, lovie?" he mockingly shakes his head and before you know it, his tongue runs through your folds. Your eyes close and your soft hands push him further in, directing him towards the needed target. He smiles as he knows exactly where you want him and a man like him obeys his love. 

"mmm, so sweet, lovie," his voice vibrates on you. His tongue laps at your clit. One of his hands opens your pretty pussy more whilst the other lets his thick fingers inside of you. A moan escapes your lips. It's easy to forget your ex was just here when the man who makes your heart and pussy throb is on his knees eating you out like you're some goddess he must worship. 

The more he continues this, the more he can feel you clench around his fingers and that's when he knows he must fuck you dumb...with his dick of course. No need to have his fingers claim your cunt over and over when his hardened member can do that. 

He gets back up, earning a small whine from you as you are near climax. A playful smile falls upon his wet lips, the ones he licks before speaking. He raises and finger to the air and sighs, "Now, how about I fill you to the brim and make you forget about that mangled-looking mutt," his head to the side as he watches you ponder. You nod and he picks you up, leading you to bed. 

Once he lays you down, he admires your soft and curvy figure. What a sight you are for a man like him. 

He crawls between your thighs after he takes his sweatpants off and spits on his cock. His tip is so swollen and red that you practically know he also needs this as much as you do. 

His hand is on your hip whilst the other slips his fat and hard cock inside your tight and wet cunt. A small gasp from you and a groan from him is what slowly sets the mood for the morning. "Si," you whisper as you try and adjust to his size. "Shh, I know..I know, Y/n," he whispers back and slowly thrusts into you. Your hand holds onto his wrist while the other rubs the swollen clit. 

Your tits bounce and he leans forwards, taking one into his mouth. He licks and sucks on the sensitive skin. His tongue flicks on the nipple and a low chuckle escapes him when he notices the small whimpers that leave your plump lips. 

What an innocent thing you used to be before you ever met him and now, he has you moaning and getting fucked like the pretty little slut you are. "Fuck," Simon groans and goes somewhat harder, hitting that sweet spot of yours. He can tell he was doing this when your grip on his wrist tightens and your nails leave a painful mark, one he doesn't complain about. "You're mine...you're so mine, Y/N. You hear me?" his voice deep and yet so soft. A small nod from you makes him smile. 

With each thrust, his gaze falls on you. Even as he licks and sucks your tits, you look so pretty when biting your lip from this angle. His balls tighten, the image of you too much to take. God, you belong to him now.  

The moans you begin to let out that mix so perfectly with the noises his hip thrusts make against you is the melody that's so dirty the angels would have to cover their ears for. "He doesn't fuck you like I do, huh, lovie?" he says between angered groans. "He doesn't please that needy pussy like me and he'll never please it like I do," he bites his bottom lip as he says this. 

He pulls his chest back, feeling that he can't take more but he must wait until you clench around his dick so he can fill you up. 

By now, both his hands hold your hips, his cock aching for release and as you play with your pretty pussy, he almost wants to see if you've forgotten the idiot you once dated. 

"God, you're so heavenly," he whispers into his groan. Your walls tighten around him and he can almost feel you cliamx by now.  

He holds your body close, burying his head on your neck as he moans and feels you shake and moans his name over and over. Your nails leave love marks on his back from how good he is. "C'mon...just like that...fuck...mark me...let them know your body was used by me," he moans out so desperately it's hot. 

Soon enough, he cums inside of you, coating your delicate walls with his cum. He moans loudly, closing his eyes and slowing his pace. "You keep my cum inside you, that's a command," he kisses your neck with the need to have you this close to him. "Y-yes..." you whisper. 

His fat and heavy dick is still inside you as his unspoken promise to fill you up is becoming true. 

His hands are on your waist and then hips, travelling between them with so much delicacy it looks like he is truly worshipping a goddess. 

"Don't you ever open the door to him. You're mine, not his and you'll stay mine until we die," he says before giving you a rough but needed kiss. His breath is hot as his body captures yours. His hands holding you so close like he is afraid you vanish with just one blink. 

It must be a sin to love this hard and this good. 

"I think I'm falling for you, Y/N," he confesses and kisses you again. Your arms snake around his back. His body and yours are like magnets. "Do you think you're falling for me?" he asks once he separates his lips from yours. "I've already fallen for you, Si," you whisper and like a schoolboy, he blushes and chuckles nervously. 

It was cute to see him this way. It's exciting to know just these words make him all happy and giddy. "Good because I'm tired of being just your friend," he kisses you once more as this kiss turns into a cuddle. 

A soft cuddle that turns into a nap. 

A nap that turns into days of romancing in town streets and parks. 

A/N: thanking the man who let’s me recreate things with him for fics for some of the parts of this because I couldn’t figure out what to write

Tags:

@tf141gloryhole @captainsarcasmandsass @lahniu @appl3-0rchard @certifiedcodbabygirl @lucycastlesworld @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @rvivienner @Krinoid24 @frizzseaberries @frazie99 @idklols @katybaby00 @night-mare-owl-79 @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @alxexhearts @baldwinhearts @Juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @strangepuppynightmare @defnotlpuluvyou @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @nellsbobells @willowaftxn83-87 @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @Llelannie @Macnches2 @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @Nyx_Flower @1234beeandpuppycat @sparky--bunny @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @lovelyvqer @the_royal_bee @soapybutt17 @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @anonxasian @born4biriyani @thegreyjoyed @mychemichalimalance @marshiely @sleepyycatt @

#cod mw2 #cod #cod x reader #mwii #ghost cod #ghost simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley #simon riley call of duty #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley cod #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #cod simon riley #cod smut #simon ghost x you #simon ghost smut #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #call of duty

[irndad]

in every other life- s.r.

a/n: my soul is in this mf fic. there's a lil sexual tension lol! this is a behemoth of pining. so much fucking pining. this guy needs you like air wtf!! ALSO the poem is from a book, the lover's dictionary by david levithan. summary: the love of spencer's life is also his best friend, and she goes on a few dates. he does not handle it well, internally. ft. metaphysics by our dear genius boy. wc: 3.3k (holy shit)

While he recognizes that no direct injustice has actually been done to him, he can’t help but feel that it’s so unfair. 

Because Spencer had never actually wanted much of anyone, actually. He was too much of a child through his entire education, and he’d found anyone that he’d even consider had almost instantly had dismissed him. He’d grown used to a life where companionship wasn’t a desire that crossed his mind. 

But he wanted her. 

His lovely friend, his coworker, who was the kind of lovely that it feels unfair you’d ever have to take your eyes off of. She’s the best person he’s ever met, the sort of wonderful you read about but never convince yourself you’ll ever see. He knows the shape of her, has her form memorized from watching, waiting for her to step into the office every day.  

It was only a matter of time until he wasn’t the only one with his eye on her. 

She’s actually absurdly easy to want. There’s nights where they watch something, often what he picked, Doctor Who or some other science fiction which would be great if he could focus on anything but her. Her warm disposition ruminating his too-small apartment with a kind of light that follows his every movement. He’d adore her even if she wasn’t, but it’s impossible to ignore how beautiful she is- the kind of pretty that you hardly expect to see in real life. 

“Hey you,” her so-sweet voice is what breaks him out of his daydreaming, and he looks up at her lovely face smiling down at him. Fondness seeps through her tone, and it’s everything he can do not to preen that her first thought at seeing him is one of pleasure. 

“Hey back,” he says, greeting her with a warm grin of his own. “How was your weekend?”

It’s a calculated question. 

She had canceled their weekly movie night. He’d tried not to look too disappointed, like the idea of her next to him on his couch, of her nimble fingers raking through his unkempt hair while something nice, but far less wonderful than his company played in the background wasn’t all that was keeping him going. These days, and he knows it’s likely delusion, that she sometimes seems to gaze back at him with a similar sort of desperation, hooded eyes and tenderness. 

It’s a liminal space, those nights. How can people be two things at once? You cannot be both in love and not. In the low-light of his place, under his blanket- it’s like Schrodinger’s experiment. She can’t love him like a friend and more at the same time- it resists the laws of physics. She is his best friend, a fact he knows as sure as gravity and the elements, and believing anymore than that- it’s asserting an impossibility. 

When they’re alone together, though. It seems like the impossible exists. 

But she’d canceled it, something she hadn’t done for the months they’d been engaging in their little tradition. So there had to be a reason. She sits next to him, her desk next to his. 

She looks a little disheveled, only in an adorable way- but a little like she’s been busy, like her flow is disrupted.

“It was good! I finally went out with that guy Penelope’s been begging me to let her set me up with.”

It’s all that he can do not to freeze up. 

Penelope has been trying to get her to go out with her friend Ben, which Spencer thinks is a stupid name, by the way, and secretly he’d been so, so pleased when she had brushed off the invite. It’s a dangerous thing, hope. He tries not to have too much of it, tries to savor the thought of her, of more for moments of particular vulnerability. It’s treacherous, to want her the way he does. He knows he can’t let himself feel it all the way. 

And logistically- romance is not a reason for a valid reason for him to be panicking the way he is, but all he can think about is the physics. Two opposite things cannot be true at the same time. 

“You know, studies suggest that even now, the majority of couples are meeting in person or through friends over any other medium.” 

It hurts to say. She’s part of a couple, one half a whole that he doesn’t complete. 

“Seriously? I’d have thought it’d changed by now. I guess it’s safer to date someone you know.”

She’d date someone she knew? Is that what she prefers? 

“How did it go?” He hears Emily ask, and this conversation is already the bane of his existence.

“Guys, it really wasn’t a big deal! We got dinner, it was just a little thing.”

Spencer isn’t experienced in dating, but he does know that dinner is a serious date. Coffee is a smaller thing, but dinner-

Dinner means she got pretty for him. Probably picked out a dress for the evening, spent time on a carefully manicured look. Spent hours of her precious, rare, time on him. 

It’s not fair how much he fucking hates this guy. 

“Dinner is not nothing!” Penelope squeals, and he would love to share in her excitement, except it kind of feels like a piece of his heart is being shredded. 

“Dinner means coming up to my place, have coffee, oh look who doesn’t have her hair done-“

Please kill me, he thinks. Please. 

“Oh, that definitely did not happen.”

Thank god. 

Except he can’t miss her flush, how her expression shifts- and he has the sickening feeling he’d be hearing that guy’s name again. 

When they all settle around the table, her doe eyes focused on gruesome images that were the exact antithesis of her spirit, he couldn’t help but feel that even if it hurt, there was finality. 

The cat was out of the box. Two things cannot be true at once, and so only one is- she does not love him, at least not the way he does. 

Ben, is not in fact, going away. 

If he had more willpower or self-preservation, Spencer would keep his distance from her, but the truth of it is that as much as he wants to be the person she turns to, her smile is most of why he can stand his job anymore. 

It’s a Tuesday, and everyone is grumbling about being pulled in early in the morning, but he’s just happy to have a reason to leave the house.

“Spence!” He hears her excited voice carry, the pretty sound picking his ears up at once. “I got you coffee. It’s hazelnut, and it’s like, 90% sugar. You’re gonna love it.”

She beams at him, and he takes it in his hands. Their hands brush, and he tries so hard not to notice how soft her hands are. Her name is on the cup, and an unconsenting fantasy of her name meaning that he’s hers creeps into his mind before he can bat it away.  

But her cup says Ben. 

“Thanks,” he says her name, tries to sound measured and friendly. “Coffee date?”

She preens, and god, if this guy doesn’t get how lucky he is it might be thing thing that actually sends him over the edge after all these years.

“Just a quick thing, we were just in the same place and he bought me a coffee, I’d already gotten yours.”

If there’s two roles he can fill and he doesn’t get to pick, if he’s stuck with friends, he’s gonna be great at it, and he’s gonna be grateful. Because knowing her is a grace in itself, the kind of thing you should could yourself so lucky to have. 

“He sounds like a great guy,” he hears himself say, “I’m glad you’re doing this.”

It’s the right thing to say. He’s sure of it. The thing he’s not sure of is why the smile she offers him doesn’t reach her eyes. 

The next time he notices the cracks in their relationship, it’s when they’re out. She’d suggested this bookstore-cafe kind of thing, and he’d jumped at the thought, all of his favorite things in one afternoon. He’d felt foolish spending so much time picking out his outfit out, wearing the blazer she’d once complimented-he’d actually stuttered so hard in thanks that Morgan laughed for a full minute when she left the room- but she always looked beautiful, and he knows he sometimes pales in comparison. 

“Oh, I love this one!” She thumbs over the spine of a thin book of poetry. She’s wearing a forest green sweater that hugs her frame, and a bracelet hangs on her delicate wrist. He loves looking at her, though he tries to conceal it. His goal of being a supportive friend includes trying not to make it that known how gone for her he is. 

“I don’t read too much poetry,” he admits, “But I’m sure you have excellent taste.” 

Her keen eyes skim through the pages intently, clearly seeking out a specific passage before stopping, gaze alight with recognition. 

Her tone is molasses-sweet when she begins reading, and his heart skips a beat.

“When I say be my lover,” her voice hitches, reverent of the quote and he is reverent of her, “ I don’t mean ‘let’s have an affair. I don’t mean Sleep with me. I don’t mean Be my secret. I want us to go back to that root. I want you to be the one who loves me. I want to be the one who loves you.”

It feels impossible to look away from her, doe eyes practically sparkling in the low light of the shop, and there it is. His heart’s in his throat. Of all the things you could have told Spencer he’d experience, hearing her lovely voice wrap around the words be my lover in hushed tone, in sacred sweetness, would never ever be one he’d guess. 

He’s not sure how he feels about the multiverse theory, but right now, he can feel all the versions of himself pressing right up against him. Can see into lives he doesn’t get to live, lifetimes where his love isn’t a buried, worn-out tattered thing to keep his ever-frigid chest warm. Versions of himself that in this very moment can smile back at her, warm and open and kind, and kiss her perfect smile. 

Because he would be her lover. He would come home to her, spend the rest of his life building a home that she could fit  into. It’d be easy, actually. She’s easy to imagine- nights of laughing in a shared kitchen, evenings where her company is a fine wine, sipped at leisure with the comfort of knowing it’s never going to slip from your grasp. 

“I like that,” he says, voice too vulnerable for his own good, eyes unable to tear from the eye contact. “I really like that.” 

In the root of it, he already is her lover. He is the one who loves her. She’s just not his. 

It comes to a head on a Friday. It’s a few weeks from he book shop, and the air feels heavier between them now. The last handful of Fridays he’s sat with the ghost of what used to be their plans, empty time lingering where in its’ place used to be her company. 

He doesn’t know if she’s been with Ben. He tries not to think about it. 

The sound of her voice lingers in his mind, sweet and bitter in his mind like old lemon candy, the kind his mother would save for special occasions. He’d spend any amount of money he had to hear her lovely voice say those words to him out of the context of a poem. 

At work, they seem almost normal. Like one of them wasn’t desperately in love with the other; like a genius and his lovely, incredibly empathetic, kind best friend. In the field, their actions flow together seamlessly. She is always the first to listen and to understand (and god, isn’t it intoxicating to have someone meet you in understanding) and there is nothing to suspect is off.

But there’s still a cloud lingering. The poem- the soft melody of her voice curling around the words, the request of it all, the way she had sounded so wanting- and then, there’s Ben. 

She doesn’t mention Ben to him, of course, but Penelope does. Penelope, all bows and bright colors and cheeriness keeps bringing the absolute worst news to Spencer with a smile on her face. 

He’s taking her out for drinks! Oh, he’s reading her favorite book, do you know what it is?

This anger isn’t an emotion that he’s familiar with. A roar of possessiveness, the bite of it not tempered at all by rationality. Has he touched her?

It seems almost a tradition at this point when she shakes him out of his jealous storm of thought.

“Spence?” she muses, “You alright?” They’re alone at his desk, everyone having fled for their own evening and weekend plans. This was one of the Fridays that she had agreed to spend with him, and he wonders if he’ll be able to handle the scent of her shampoo so close after such a lapse of the sensation. Will all of his judgement go where he can’t follow?

“Yeah,” he says, tucking his papers into his bag, “I’m excited for tonight.”

His place is actually a short walk from the office. He’d been embarrassed to show her the place at first. It’s all function over fashion, and a bit cramped, but she’d looked at as though it was made of something more, something good. She didn’t even tease him. It had actually been her idea, to start these movie nights. 

Ironic, really. 

The walk was pleasant, the weather a little frigid but still nice, and she looks beautiful under the setting sun. It’s incredible to him, how her lashes catch the light and make her irises look like polished stained glass. His favorite color. Through the looking glass of another life, he sees a version of himself that gathers her up in his arms. In this daydream, she grants him one of her smiles that seems to carry its’ own light, and leans into his body like it’s the only thing that keeps her steady. It’s so clear. On the other side of the veil, he kisses her reddening nose, and keeps her warm himself. 

In the here and now, Her coat is long, and hangs low by her ankles. It’s an elegant thing, like the woman who wears it, and Spencer would be grateful for a lifetime of just looking.They stop in front of his door, some invisible force stopping him from entering. 

She sheds the coat inside his home. It smells like the candle she got him for his birthday, a reminder of her grace. He’s saved a bottle of wine for them, a sweet thing for the sweetest thing he’s known. 

“I’m sorry,” she speaks the warmth of the beverage on her tongue, and it should feel abrupt but it doesn’t.

“What for?” He can’t imagine what she would have to apologize for. 

“I know things have been…off between us,” she says carefully, considering the phrasing of each word. He watches her with a reverence, his hazel eye brimming with affection with nowhere to go. “You’ve been so great through it.”

Her legs are thrown across his own, and she’s dangerously close to sitting in his lap, but not exactly. He’s missed having her this close, the last time she’d been in his orbit was before she’d had reason to be gone. She smells floral. He fights With limited filtering through his already treacherous mind he thinks, He can’t take this from me. I still get her like this. 

“I’m not entirely sure what it is.” 

She slowly shuts her eyes, go for a moment to somewhere he can’t follow. Her cheeks are rosy from the cold. 

“This whole Ben thing.”

“Oh.”

Logically, it always had to come back to this. Someone else had the good fortune to know her like this, to be the person she reads poetry to in deep meaning to. 

He’s been stealing moments from someone who’s not his to take them from. 

“I don’t even know how I wanted you to react.” she murmurs, staring at the rim of her glass. 

“I just want you to be happy” His voice is something low, grit in the sound of it. His hand rests on her thigh. There’s warmth blanketing the room and he wants to kiss her. He wants to kiss her all the time. 

She laughs, but it’s not her normal laugh. It’s tinny and a little bitter. He pushes his luck, and reaches out to brush the side of her face, moving the hair but still holding her face. Her breath smells like strawberry wine and temptation. 

It feels different tonight. Low light and tension that could be sliced with wire. Every part of her is in reach, and something in the air makes all of this talk of relativity, of physics, moot. 

Like maybe he’s not in the only world they don’t end up together. 

Her face is warm and soft under his touch and he loves the sight of her. He’s never touched her like this. Every point of contact feels electric, addicting. 

“What is it? The Ben thing?” He doesn’t know what he’s expecting to hear. What he wants, is for her to tell him that it doesn’t matter anymore, that she picks him-

“I only went out with him the once.”

“What?”

“I told Penelope I was still going because it made her happy and she said I couldn’t keep going to your apartment and reading you poetry and call that romance.”

Romance? 

Wasn’t it romance, though? 

Her eyes widen in something akin to horror. 

“Shit, Spence- I’m sorry, that is so fucked of me to say-“

“You,” he tries to say calmly, “aren’t going out with Ben.”

She blinks. 

“No?”

He has spent so much time living in other lives, existing in the minds of versions of himself he wasn’t lucky enough to be. Drinking coffee imagine a life colored in her presence, falling asleep yearning for the presence of something lighter than what he has to carry. 

He can’t exist in two places. That was the entire basis of the experiment. 

He moves his other hand to hold hers, and somehow she’s shifted to being on top of him, and he looks up at her with unwavering desire. 

Spencer isn’t good at wanting people, but it comes naturally with her. Less of an action and more an urge, a course of motion to which he is at the mercy of. This is what leads him to close the gap between them, and kiss her. It’s 

Her delicate fingers run through his hair, and she can’t be close enough, please, and he could spend the rest of his life kissing her, actually. He probably will spend the rest of his life thinking about the soft sigh he pulls out of her. 

“I want it to be me,” he manages to say through shallow breath, still so close that his lips brush hers every other word, “I want to be the one you pick. I want it to be me.” His hazel eyes seem to shift in the moment, swirling with emotion. 

She brushes a lock of his overgrown hair out of his face. He normally shaves when he sees her, but he’d been so busy that he’d forgotten, and felt embarrassed of it now. That is, until she runs her index finger along the edge of his jawline.

It’s then she leans down and kisses him again, pliant and good, his hands around her waist. He breathes a prayer into her mouth, one that hopes that she never ever comes to her senses about him. 

“Spence,” she says, her voice golden silk, a kindness.  “There was never anyone else to pick.” 

#spencer reid #spencer Reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic

[marvelsmylife]

Begin again

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Plot: Azriel grants you your wish of being left alone for a while. The second the times up though, he starts his plan to win you back.

A/n this is the last part to Damned if you do, Damned if you don’t story. I would like to remind you that my requests are open (please try to send in fluffy or smut requests. I need to chill out on angsty stories for a while 😂😂😂)

Warning: fluff

Part One Part Two Bonus Scene

Clinging onto the hope you gave him the night of the dinner party, Azriel gave you the space you asked for and settled with giving you three weeks. He was still a wreck during those three weeks, but he spent that time planning the perfect way to win you back. When the three weeks were up, he set his plan into motion.

It started out small. He was leaving you roses by your front door with a note that included a happy memory you shared. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the memories he wrote down, from the first day you met to the first book he ever bought you just because he saw it and thought you might enjoy it.

You couldn’t believe he remembered the tiny moments you shared together and started feeling bad that you had been ignoring him for two years. You knew that any other male would have moved on if they were in Azriel’s position. Yet he stayed loyal to you, and while he was over the top while he begged for forgiveness he never once stopped fighting for you or your forgiveness.

He then resorted to the one thing he told Cassian he would never do, writing poems for you. Granted, they weren’t that great when he started writing them, but by the sixth week, he had you swooning by the time you finished reading the poem.

The best part was that he actually got help from some of your students. Every day, he would approach one of them and ask if they could hand you the poem and give you a beautiful set of either earrings or a necklace. The students would be excited that the spymaster of the night court asked them for a favor and were more than happy to deliver the poem, along with a few jewelry pieces.

Azriel would watch from a distance as you read the poem and held the piece of jewelry against your chest.

The next thing Azriel did was stop by the old dance studio you attended and properly apologize to your old instructor. He apologized for his actions and explained what drove him to do what he did.

Azriel was surprised when your old instructor accepted his apology and told him he would let you know that Azriel apologized to him. Of course, Azriel told him he didn’t have to do that, that he did it because it was the right thing to do. “The apology might be two years late, but at least you did it. Most males would never apologize in the first place, let alone an Illyrian male.”

Even though Azriel told him he didn’t have to, your old instructor stopped by your studio and informed you that Azriel apologized to him: “He seemed so remorseful for his actions. Do you ever plan on forgiving him?”

“I already have,” you confessed and started playing with the necklace Azriel had gifted you a few weeks back: “The thing is, I'm scared that he is going to resent me again and take his anger out my studio because I built a career out of something I’m passionate about. I love teaching dance too much just to go back to being the spymaster's mate.”

“Why can’t you be both?” your instructor pointed out: “Be the spymaster's mate AND an amazing dancing teacher.”

You went home that night replaying the conversation and wondered if your old instructor was right.

His big move came six months later. He had gotten wind that you were now providing private lessons for fae’s who were too shy to learn around other people. They would have to pay in order to receive those private lessons, but they were reasonably priced.

You thought others wouldn’t want to pay for private lessons after attending your other classes for free. You were surprised when all of your openings for private lessons were booked for the foreseeable future.

You were getting ready to teach someone late at night when you spotted Azriel walking through the front door: “Azriel! What are you doing here? I have a private lesson in five minutes.”

“I’m the one who requested the private lesson,” Azriel confessed: “Teach me everything you know about the thing you love the most.”

A smile formed on your face at Azriel’s request, and you were more than happy to oblige. You started teaching him the basics and were surprised at how fast he learned to dance. “Look at you,” you beamed at Azriel: “You’ll be a better dancer than me in no time.”

“Not possible,” Azriel stared lovingly at you.

By the end of the lesson, Azriel had his arms around your body, holding you close to him. He was enjoying having you in his arms after being denied it for years. “I’ve missed you so much, my love,” Azriel spoke into your hair before getting ahold of your chin and making you look into his eyes: “I am nothing without you.”

Azriel found himself staring at your lips and was tempted to lean in and kiss you, but he didn’t want to overstep and potentially ruin all of the progress he had accomplished thus far.

To his surprise, you were the one that pulled him into a kiss. He didn’t complain. As a matter of fact, he took control of the kiss immediately and had you pinned against the mirrored wall. 

You let out a soft moan at Azriel’s action and found yourself pressing yourself against his body, desperate for his touch. “I really am sorry for all the pain I have caused you these past couple of years,” Azriel whispered as he cradled your neck: “I never realized how much I needed you in my life until you left me. I was such a fool for saying such hurtful things to you.”

A small smile appeared on your face at Azriel’s apology: “That’s all I’ve ever wanted to hear you say. Thank you for apologizing and for all the flowers and poems you’ve sent me these past few months.”

“Can you come home now? Our house is not a home without you in it” Azriel begged, his scarred hands were now tangled in your hair.

“Yes, I will come home,” you replied before a mischievous smile appeared on your face: “But what do you say we spend the night here, just for tonight?” Azriel was going to question why you would want to sleep in your studio when you tapped on the mirror behind you. “You have always said it would be nice to fuck in front of a mirror. Well, we have one right here.”

“Have I told you how much I love you yet?” Azriel groaned before leaning in and capturing your lips again.

A/n. Let me know if you guys would be interested in a bonus scene with the reader, Azriel, and that mirror.

@byyalady @sheblogs @janebirkln @starsinyourseyes @cumuluscranium @honeybee54321 @pussyistasty-blog @azriels-shadowsinger @anuttellaa @pussyistasty-blog @fightmedraco @aunicornmademedoit @esposadomd @thelov3lybookworm @harrystylesfan2686 @sarawritestories @fxckmiup @sleepylunarwolf @mochibabycakes @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @stargirl1714 @tenshis-cake @tele86 @63angel @sagskylar01 @i-am-infinite @kristin813 @one-big-fangirl

#azriel imagine #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar imagine #acotar x reader

[sttoru]

“AS IF THE MEMORIES HAVE A HEART THAT ONLY BEATS AT NIGHT.”

༄ sypnosis. your boyfriend is on a business trip, yet always finds the time to call you at night. though, this time he’s lonely and in need of comfort.

༄ note. inspired by one of mahmoud darwish’s poems plus by my love for this man. sigh he’s so pretty. excuse me if this is too sappy.

༄ tags. satoru x reader. female reader. pet names such as ‘sweet, love, baby, babe, angel”. satoru is clingy. this is just uhh, fluff and sprinkles of angst + reverse comfort. spoilers jjk manga (stuff w/ suguru & toji).

“what are you doing,” “where are you,” and “who’s with you,”

satoru, as always, didn’t give you the chance to greet him properly once you picked up his call. your boyfriend was sent on a mission overseas and has been calling you every night since.

he says it’s to ‘hear your pretty voice’ and because he apparently ‘can’t survive without hearing it at least once a day’.

“satoru— love, calm down.” you chuckle softly, putting the call on speaker before going back to eat your dinner.

you hear the sorcerer let out a small whine over the phone, “my bad, sweet. you know i always look forward to speaking with you.”

you hum lightly in response. satoru has always had the habit to call you whenever he misses you even in the slightest of amounts.

some may find that annoying, however you’re aware that you are the only person satoru can rely on at the end of the day. that’s exactly why you try your best to answer all of his phone calls.

“how’d the mission go?” you ask after swallowing a bite of your food.

“pfft, the usual. dealt with some annoying curses that’ve been plaguing the area.” your boyfriend groans; he wished he didn’t have to take care of his duties so he could be with you all the time.

satoru just wanted to hold you in his arms, cuddle you, shower you with love, take you out on cute dates and spoil you with all kinds of gifts. his responsibilities as a teacher and as the strongest sorcerer constantly got in the way of that simple dream.

“good work, baby. you did well today.” you reply, earning a small ‘i-know-i-did’ huff from your boyfriend.

“thanks,” satoru adds, his voice muffled. it sounded like he had some food in his mouth, which you easily guessed was something sweet, “you know.. i was thinking about us— eh, you in particular.”

a silence falls over the phone afterwards. it was like satoru gave you a moment to process his words before he continues.

“well, when do you not think about me?” you snicker.

you couldn’t see it, but satoru rolled his eyes at your comment before letting a chuckle escape his lips, “hey! was trying to create a sentimental mood there.”

“but, i guess— yeah. true.” your words were the truth; satoru was a hopeless man when it came to you. you’ve invaded his thoughts, his heart and even his soul.

“anyways,” your boyfriend continues, pausing slightly to swallow the snack in his mouth, “i know i say this every day, but i wish you were here with me.”

you stop chewing on your food as soon as you hear the slight change of tone in satoru’s voice. you immediately knew that he needed you at the moment.

“mhm, i know,” you reply quietly. you wanted to let him get it all out before comforting him properly with your words.

satoru took that short answer as a sign to keep talking and opening up about his feelings to you.

“it’s just,” he sighs defeatedly, “actually, i don’t know. i guess being alone during times like these really gets to me.”

satoru stared at the ceiling as he laid on his back. his phone was on the pillow right next to his head, also on speaker.

when he’s with you, it’s easy to forget about all kinds of gloomy thoughts that may enter his mind. all satoru has to do is focus his attention on you and he won’t have any time to dwell on such stuff.

however when he’s alone, he’s left with his own brain and the thoughts that ate away at him ever since the inevitable incident with toji a few years ago.

suguru. amanai.

rustling sounds; satoru’s moving positions on his bed to somehow focus on your voice again.

“i guess it’s also because it’s unknown what the future holds.” satoru pauses. this time the pause was for him to collect his thoughts.

you knew what he meant by that; satoru had went through a few traumatic events over the years. he’s faced betrayal, loss and death ever since he was a teenager.

even if he doesn’t say nor show it, satoru is scared of what the future holds for him. especially with you in the picture now— he doesn’t want you to change or disappear on him. the thought alone makes his heart ache.

“..hey, can you promise me one thing, angel?” satoru eventually speaks up again, his voice a hushed whisper over the phone.

“of course. what is it?” you answer softly.

a third and short silence falls between you again.

“promise me that you’ll stay safe.” satoru sounds like he’s desperately trying to keep his tone neutral, however you could sense some vulnerability in there.

now that you’re thinking about it, you’ve never seen or heard satoru cry out in sadness or distress. though you know for sure that those feelings are building up somewhere inside of him. it’s only a matter of time before they need to be released.

“i promise,” you start in a comforting tone, “i promise i’ll stay safe, satoru.”

you could hear your boyfriend sigh in relief. just a small promise like that was enough to calm him down a little. for now, that is.

“i’ve failed many people before,” satoru continues, still trying to keep the tone of his voice neutral, “however, i will not fail you.”

you nod to yourself. the rest of your dinner was getting cold as you used your chopsticks to absentmindedly poke the rice while listening to satoru over the phone.

“you’re too important for me to lose,” he murmurs, taking a deep breath to steady his voice, “if it ever comes to that.. i don’t know what i’ll do.”

satoru actually doesn’t know how he’ll react or what he’ll do if you—the only person worth fighting for—would leave him; will all the thoughts come crashing down on him and cause him to finally break down?

he doesn’t know. nor does he want to find out. ever.

“don’t you worry, love.” you answer, “i hereby promise you that i won’t leave your side any time soon.”

you sigh, a small smile on your face which satoru couldn’t witness. you figured to cheer him up with your own words— it felt like he needed a mix of distraction and comfort at the moment and that’s what you wanted to give him.

“i’m not going anywhere. you’re completely and utterly stuck with me for now.” you playfully warn him, putting emphasis on the two words, “there’s no backing out of this, ‘toru.”

the sorcerer couldn’t help but laugh slightly at your last remark; you always knew how to make him feel better in an instant. that’s why he loved you to death,

“make that forever and we have a deal.”

“fiiine,” you reply in an over exaggerated tone before giggling, “forever it is. don’t get bored of me any time soon then.”

“oh, don’t you worry, angel.” satoru chuckles, sighing the stress away in one deep breath, “i’ll never get bored of my favourite girl. never in a million years.”

he sits up on his bed before standing up and walking to the window of his hotel room. satoru looked outside while grabbing another snack from a nearby table.

the sky was beautiful; it reminded him of you, though your beauty was no match for the sky. you were prettier than nature itself.

“satoru.” you call out to him over the phone and he immediately snaps back to reality.

“yeah, baby?” he replies, unwrapping his chocolate bar with one hand in the meantime.

“be reaaaal honest with me. like really honest.” a grin forms on your face as you thought of what to say next.

“you know i always speak the truth with you,” satoru mutters with a smile while putting a piece of chocolate in his mouth, “go on.”

“how many of those chocolate bars have you eaten today?”

the question caught satoru off guard and he instantly stops chewing.

satoru turns his head to the left and then to the right, eyes narrowed and body in a defensive stand like somebody was going to attack him any time soon.

“wh— the hell? how did you know? don’t tell me you’ve been secretly watchin’ me the entire time.”

you could already picture the way he’s probably checking his entire hotel room at the moment. your poor boyfriend may be strongest, but not when it comes to such silly ‘scary’ stuff. it’s adorable.

“babe, you never go a day without eating that one specific chocolate bar.” you giggle softly, taking another bite of your own food, “i’ve come to know your eating habits by now.”

“that so?” satoru grins to himself as he puts another piece in his mouth, “what am i thinking at the moment then? if you know me so well.”

you roll your eyes and get up to put your dishes away, taking your phone with you to the sink. “hmm.. well let me think.”

“take all the time you need, baby.”

satoru constantly tells you that you’re always on his mind, so you figured that this time wouldn’t be any different.

you know it’d probably be something sappy that’ll make you both giggle uncontrollably.

“maybe, something like—“ you start in a teasing tone, “i don’t know, uhh— ‘i love you?’”

there it goes; the uncontrollable giggles and laughter that fill both of your ears. it felt like you were two young teenagers in love again.

“damn, i’m really that predictable, huh?” satoru eventually says, trying to catch his breath as his tummy started to hurt from laughing so much.

“nah. i’d say it’s the power of love.”

another fit of laughter follows.

so, the night went on and on; going from discussions about random stupid stuff to deep philosophical conversations and back to the cheesy, lovey dovey remarks.

and of course, the call wouldn’t end without a direct and sleepy ‘i love you’ from your dear boyfriend.

#sttoru writes. #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x you #gojo fic #satoru x reader #satoru x you #jjk fic

[sweetheartsaku]

—HAIKYU!! various ; better in the dark

a/n ; [gn!reader] how deep is your love pt 2???!?!! AND YES!! the title is a tv girl reference :3c please dont let this flop!! praying that all the ppl who found pt 1 found this 🥹🩷 tysm for all the notes everyone!! <3

— characters : akaashi, kenma, kita, semi, kageyama, suna

part 1 ! ♡ oikawa, osamu, tsukishima, hinata, sakusa, kuroo

tea roses !

keiji akaashi ; tip toe - HYBS

THIS MAN. he will take you out on absolutely BEAUTIFUL dates. they are scheduled and well thought out, all without you knowing. knows what you like, can predict what you order, where you will sit or do, and KNOWS how to fluster you effortlessly. UNSPOKEN RIZZ AT ITS FINEST YOUR HONOUR!!

at one point he had to resort to the notes app to write what you're like but had realised he had subconsciously memorised all of it by heart. deleted it and still knows you like the back of his hand!!

weirdly knows how to pick the best candles.

the warm, nostalgic smelling ones. candles that are the perfect dash of nostalgia, that feel comforting and warm. i wonder if its in the brain or an instinct thing

for anniversaries or literally just whenever, he makes paper flower bouquets. they are so intricate and every little detail, colour and fold makes it so perfect. in-between classes or when he finishes work early, he'll be nonchalantly folding another smaller flower for the arrangement. he does it so effortlessly too 😭!!

sometimes likes to fiddle with your fingers especially if you wear rings. one of the only and very sweet moments of PDA!! gently rubs his fingertips over your knuckles and tracing all the lines. i need an akaashi keiji in my life

will send you the most beautiful, heart-wrenching and mesmerising poems at an insane hour. you'll wake up with a couple paragraphs about how important healing or taking one step at a time is, making sure you fall in love with yourself everyday too. (please do)

kozume kenma ; cherry wine - grentperez

facinated by painted nails. on holidays he might paint them black, or maybe get a little cat sticker on his index!! pick the colour he'll love it either way

cherishes your little trinkets so much 😞 polaroid of you two and stickers on the back of his phonecase, keeps some of the random stuff you give him in his pocket. you could find a rock you gave him like 3 months ago but he kept it because you said it reminded you of him??

perfectly able and capable to order things by himself, but you know he isn't the type of guy to actually seem to WANT to do it. he is too lazy to actually get up but not lazy enOUGH when it comes to you. he might hide behind you. "HE SAID NO PICKLES!!"

CRAZY beef with your plushies. or anything you hold dear honestly. he can and will get pouty. BEWARE!! you must give him a lil' kiss to earn his attention back. (loves the forehead ones)

sometimes he forgets or just doesn't want to eat. it will get to the extent where you have to spoon feed him,,please remind and encourage him to ! eating, sleeping... just can't do it without a little push.

does this thing with his hands when you cross the road. i don't wanna say grabby hands because its pretty cringe, but it is definitely grabby hands. has no idea why he does it but its such a sweet and small gesture╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ !

cat parents but not exactly cat parents? 🤔 you found this stray cat once, and started visiting it everyday on the way to school. you cared for it, and when kenma picked that up he was also instantly fond of it too. now you both kinda feed it your leftover lunch when you visit the cat after school.. he's so precious with the little cat ueue.. take pictures before the moment fleets!

has the date you two met written on his controller... (he was so hesistant at first though LMAO)

shinsuke kita ; old love - yuji, putri dahlia

uses your initial for math variables. he'll use x or y sometimes, but his first option is ALWAYS your initial. you found this out on a study date once, math talk blablabla and he uses to what seems to you a 'random letter' NO. it is your initial!! 😞 when you ask he seems unfazed, but his ears are pretty red... idk guys i think he wants you

one of the people that make you stiffen up when they get physical. when he lays his head on your shoulder you instantly freeze up, trying not to move a BONE so you won't disturb him. it's like muscle memory to you LMAO.

really pretty, long lashes... if you've read part one, oikawa and tsuki are very similar :0!! loves when you graze his lashes with the back of your index finger

like akaashi, learnt how to make flowers but they're crochet 🥹 i think growing up his grandma had taught him how to crochet and all the little patterns. overtime, dedicated himself to making an arrangement every anniversary... they come with little heartfelt letters too!! (kita boyfie material COME HOME!!)

very routinal as well!! like kuroo (he is the full package) he never misses a morning or night to say good morning or good night. AND he places sticky notes around your desk or places he knows you'll be in reminding you to smile or something along those lines !!

what took the cake for me was when he left a little bag filled with goodies once he realised atsumu was sick 😣 definitely does the same for you... sends bag with a bowl of hot soup his grandma made at your front door

eita semi ; i wish you roses - kali uchis

weirdly immersed in the painting of nails as well. sometimes he'll ask you to paint his in black but he got dress-coded a week later 😓 SIKE gives NO shat and kept them on anyway. they are way too valuable to him to just erase. nails done in a simple colour he likes?? by his s/o?? wiped off?? very funny shiratorizawa

i think + the neighborhood, he likes tv girl, kendrick lamar, childish gambino but has a duality of laufey and beabadoobee's bedroom pop and fuzzy rock??

sick of people making arctic monkeys his personality 😞 musicians arise!! apart from the VBC, hes probably in a band too. small gigs here and there for school, and a few fun sessions with his friends just to play whatever. come to his gigs! (sometimes he'll magically play 10x better when you're around, he says)

share earphones with him PLEASE. on rainy bus rides or walks home, he'll play something you like hehe c:

takes you out to the mall closest to shiratorizawa to go pick up some fast food or a drink. it usually gets really crowded from all the surrounding schools so he keeps you close by the waist

and obviously the basic, will sit with you and teach you the basics of bass or electric guitar. i think he'd play a bit of percussion too (о´∀`о) sometimes he'll take you into his lap, but thats when he feels pretty clingy but very discreetly!!

tobio kageyama ; what would i do? - strawberry guy

please don't try to flirt with him he WON'T UNDERSTAND!!!! *gunshots*

if you say literally anything that isn't directly stating your point, he will not get it. using metaphors or just figurative language in general he is STRUGGLING. you need to say, "you're pretty." because things like "i fall in love with you every day" or "i'll find you in every universe" he will actually look at you BAFFLED. please help this man

thinks about what YOU would do. like when he is in doubt or feels like he's about to lash out, he will take a moment and literally ask himself what you'd do or say. even in tests or something completely unrelated to you he will literally ask himself what you would put in the answer box !!

face scrunch when he gets jealous ! he kinda has a lil' pout but can't bring himself to say anything. when you finally notice him he'll have this lil' (๑ˋ^ˊ ๑) face... please kiss his eyelid or the corner of lips cuz HE HAS TOO MANY PRETTY BOY PRIVILEGES!! (and he'll get flustered it's the cutest) revoke them THIS instant!!

his favourite type of kisses are the ones where you'll push his hair back and give him a forehead kiss. he'll take you in by the waist and keep you close, he likes to listen to your heart because you have his. when he feels clingy, he'll nuzzle his head into your shoulder. what a dork

will attempt to find you at his games pre and post timeskip. before the game he will try to make it not look frantic but one of his members eventually catch on 😞

rintarou suna ; SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK - joji

camera roll is either 0.5's of the most jaw dropping, majestical sunsets and sunrises that he's experienced with you or literally anytime the sky is feeling a little different (if he's not with you at the time he WILL send them to you at either 5am or 7pm saying it reminded him of you) or the CRAZIEST 0.5's of you losing sanity or of you off guard. its wild blackmail material but he chooses not to LMAO. (because of the love in his heart, he says)

has a little photo album for you and anything you related!! he also takes the best candid photos of you and post them on close friends!! (´∀｀)

no. #1 victim of couple tiktok trends. pretends and looks like he doesn't like it, but doesn't want it to end. once you press post he will stare you down with his beautiful ahh olive hazel eyes (he wants more)

last one on the social med side, he mentions you in posts with your initials all the FLIPPIN' TIME!! his dedication is quite endearing

on days where everything becomes overstimulating, he will notice. will eye you for a while, but once he knows when it gets to a certain extent he will hand you an earphone.

anyone who says suna is an arctic monkey's listener is a LIAR I SAID IT I SAID IT!!!!! *more gunshots* JOKES he probably has a couple of their songs in his playlist, but i personally think he's more tyler the creator coded. people who get it get it (avril lavigne sk8r boi? keshi beside you? definitely)

hot adams apple

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu drabble #akaashi x reader #kenma x reader #kita x reader #semi x reader #kageyama x reader #suna x reader

[webshooterrr9]

Take Care

Act Two Astarion x gn!reader

just fluff and angst if you squint, no smut

Sigh. "You don't have to do this, darling. I'm not some sort of child in need of coddling."

Despite his standoffish tone, Astarion makes no attempt to move away as you tend to the cuts on his arm. It had been a long day of adventuring, and your party most unfortunately ran into a horde of goblins on your way back to camp for the knight. Being stronger after a recent feed, Astarion fought most of them - giving him the most injuries.

You're being far too gentle. He watches closely in the dim lantern light as you wet the rag for cleaning. A part of him wishes you'd just hurt him instead. He knows how to deal with pain. He doesn't know how to deal with this.

Whatever this is, his mind tells him it needs to stop. Stop before he starts to care. He doesn't want to care about you. If he does, you'll be another thing for Cazador to use against him when the time comes.

He can't have that.

"Oh, shut up." you wave a dismissive hand before resuming your cleaning, gently wiping away the dirt and grime from his wounds. You sat comfortably in his lap as you worked. Another form of intimacy he was unsure about.

"I've received worse and lived, love. I'll be alright without your babying."

He would never admit it, but Astarion almost... enjoyed the way you so carefully tended to him. But it felt wrong. Why would you do this? It wasn't like his life was on the line, the goblins only inflicted minor injuries.

"I know you have, I've seen the poem that... he carved into your back. You showed me, remember?"

Astarion winces at the memory, and you feel sort of bad for bringing it up. But he just rolls his eyes, covering up the discomfort with a scoff.

That wretched devil. That evil, evil man.

"We're still travel companions, so I want to help you. Regardless of how minor it is." you continue, speaking slowly as you bandage up the cuts.

"Because I'm incapable?" there's a bite to his voice, one that he didn't mean to be there. But he couldn't help it. This was so... odd. "I managed to take care of myself just fine before you came along."

You look up at him, almost with a glare at his accusation. "I never said you were incapable, 'Starion. But you have to let others help you once in a while."

Gods, he hated it. He hated how caring you were, how sweetly you spoke to him, even when he was rude. How fondly you pictured him in your mind, even when he had done nothing but manipulate you so far.

How could you he so naive? He was obviously using you. And yet, you seemed to care about him, which pissed him off more.

He doesn't deserve someone as tender as you. As kind and caring.

Astarions grits his teeth as he speaks. "I don't have to let you do anything. I don't deserve that."

Why did he say that? How stupid of him so seem so vulnerable around you. And why does he want to curl up against you and let it all out? Why does he want you to wrap him up in your arms and whisper into his hair and tell him everything is going to be okay?

What is wrong with him?

You wrap up his cut tightly, giving him a glare. "You're wrong." you replied, short and direct. Your stare made it clear that this wasn't up for debate.

"You deserve just as much as everyone else. If not more, given what you've been through."

Astarion glares right back. If there was one thing he could do, it was argue. "You know nothing about me. I barely even told you half of it."

You don't know why he has to be so stubborn about this. Maybe it's his nature. Or maybe he's just too much of a coward to admit that he's actually starting to develop feelings for you. Astarion doesn't know which.

"I'm objectively the worst person on this team. You should be helping the others. Lae'zel got all scratched up too, you know."

"They've got each other." you argue back, just as stubborn as the elf. "But you, you've closed yourself off from everyone. Shut them out."

"If I don't take care of you, no one will. The Hells know that you wouldn't take care of yourself, either. You're too self-loathing for that."

When the hell did you become so perceptive? How in the world did you come to that conclusion? He wasn't self hating, he was just telling the truth. He was awful, evil. He knew it to be true.

...

Shit. Maybe you were right.

"Fine. Maybe your words have some truth in them." he sighs, not daring to look you in the eyes as he admits it. "You're right. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Damn it. Now he wants to hug you. The feeling he's been trying to avoid the entire time is bubbling up, threatening to engulf him.

Does it make him weak to want to be coddled and comforted by you? Would it make him just as pathetic as he was under Cazador's thumb? Would allowing himself this pampering, this affection, be nothing more than something to regret?

"I'm always right." you scoff. "You'd have picked up on that by now if you weren't so aloof."

You slide off of his lap once you're done bandaging, giving him some space. But you don't leave his tent.

You stay there, sitting in front of him, as a silent show of solidarity. "I'm not going anywhere. No matter how much you try to push me away."

The urge to pull you close and never let you go is overwhelming him. Astarion's not sure if he can trust himself to resist it.

"Why are you doing this?" he asks quietly, lowering his head a bit shamefully. "Why are you so insistent on helping me? I'm not worth it."

"Because you are worth it. And I won't stop until you believe it."

"I will not allow you to fall into tragedy when you can be so much more than that. I've seen your potential - on the battlefield and in camp. I refuse to let you waste your life in solitude."

Astarion wants to believe you. Desperately.

The evidence is staring him right in the face: the way that you care for him, how he feels secure in your presence.

But if he believes you, he can't hide any longer. He can't seek shelter behind the walls he's carefully erected within himself. And he can't shield himself from the vulnerability of admitting that he needs you. So instead he just says:

"Shut up."

You sigh. No matter how much you try to break him down, he stays persistent. "Fine."

"I'll stop talking, but you'd be a fool if you think I'm leaving."

He scoffs. "So what, you're just going to sit there and watch me all night?"

"If that's all you'll allow me, yes."

Allow. Such a sacred, unheard word to him.

Astarion didn't even have a response to that. In the end, he didn't have enough energy to make a snarky counter. And before he can form a coherent sentence and protest, his body makes a decision for him.

The elf slumps forward and places his head in your lap, curling up in a way that resembles a kitten. A stray seeking shelter.

Despite his efforts of stubborness, he closes his eyes and lets his body go slack.

He wants this.

You're relieved. For a moment, you sit still, not wanting to scare him away with any sudden movements. He needed this peace, and you wouldn't dare take it from him.

Slowly, you start to rake your fingers through his curls. Slowly, gently. Like a mother comforting her child.

He needs it. More than ever.

When you begin to run your fingers through his hair, it's like all his defenses dissolve away. Astarion lets out a quiet hum of contentment and presses his head further into your warmth, making himself as comfortable as possible in this precious moment.

Time seems to slow down as you sit there. There's no need for words. After so long of being taken and abused by his master, Astarion finds himself oddly calm. Safe.

It's strange to feel this comfortable. Even now he should have to urge to try and escape your touch, but he's not feeling those impulses.

He takes a deep breath and relaxes into your touch. The tension and discomfort that seemed to define his existence is melting away. For the first time in centuries, he feels he's where he belongs.

As you continue to pet his hair, you hear a quiet whisper come from your companion.

"Thank you."

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #fluff #bg3 #my baby deserves the world omg #i love him #webshooterrr9

[daycourtofficial]

Everything is Not As it Seems

Summary: You’ve been abducted, and the inner circle have to find you as quickly as possible.

Author’s note: this idea’s been floating around my head all weekend so I needed to get it out. I’m thinking this will be three parts - I already have part two done and some of three ! Also I’m a bit obsessed with the idea of Evil!Eris.

You received a letter three days ago that hasn’t left you alone since. It’s a simple letter, requesting your presence, but it’s signed by a mysterious “hound”.

You’ve mentioned the letter to the Inner Circle, at first they thought it might be someone just messing with you. Telling them that there are things in the letter about you caused some of them to get really nervous.

“What do you mean, specific details?” Rhys asked, as you brought up the letter.

“Little things,” you reply, sitting in the seat next to Rhys, “for instance, it’s addressed to me as ‘Little Fox’. That’s a nickname my brothers gave me because I was born in the autumn court. There’s a line from one of my favorite poems at the bottom. They mention my favorite flowers. It’s small things, but I’m not sure. Things that people could know about me. It’s like they’re luring me in by telling me they know me. I really feel an urge to go to find out who this is.”

“If someone’s stalking you, sweetheart, running into their trap isn’t what you should do,” Cassian says, looking over your shoulder at the letter in your hand.

“I don’t think they’re stalking me - I just think it’s someone that knows me, or at least used to know me,” you say, pausing. “I don’t know how I feel about going. On one hand, why stay anonymous? On the other, what if they have important information? I don’t know what to do.”

Rhys is the only one who looks like he’s actually considering you going to this meeting, everyone else looks apprehensive.

“I think it could be beneficial. Even if they don’t have much to tell us, it could help us determine another ally,” the high lord states.

Azriel is trying to stay calm on the outside, but he is going feral on the inside. Sending you, alone, into most likely enemy hands? He won’t stand for it.

“We’re not risking your life for knowledge on potential allies,” Azriel remarks, looking at you not with possessiveness, but fear. “None of us want anything to happen to you. There’s not much to gain from this, Rhys, but there’s a ton to lose.”

You look at him for a moment, forgetting the point of this meeting, seeing the concern in his eyes as they’re focused on you. You’re about to say it’s a bad idea, not wanting to cause Azriel anymore stress, when Rhysand states, “you’ll go. End of discussion. We’ll have Feyre and Cassian nearby on the lookout for you.”

Seeing Azriel’s distress during the meeting almost made you beg Rhys to reconsider, but the high lord is currently under such a high level of stress, the last thing he needs is you complaining about this meeting.

-

The letter asked for you to come completely alone. Rhys and Feyre stayed out of your mental shields, afraid that whoever it was would be able to sense their interference. The only thing keeping you from completely loneliness were the two shadows wrapped around your ankles underneath your skirt.

Two shadows was decided - if anything were to happen to you, one would report back to Azriel while the other remained with you. It was the only interference from Azriel Rhys would allow. He wanted to be standing nearby, waiting for any sign of distress from you, but Rhys wouldn’t allow it. He was all too aware of the effect you had on his brother, and he was going to keep Azriel in his sight while you went to this meeting.

You were standing in the trees, at the border between winter and autumn, right where the letter asked you to be. The border is a mixture of deep red leaves littering the ground that trail off into about a foot of snow. The cold morning air making your breath visible.

You hear movement, ready to set eyes on whoever sent the mysterious note.

“Hello, Little Fox.”

-

Azriel could not stand still. Rhysand had never seen him so visibly under duress. Azriel, who usually kept stock still and kept a stoic expression. Azriel was pacing and his hair was standing up from how much he was running his hands through it.

“Azriel, she’ll be okay. If anything happens, she can winnow to us, to Cassian, to Feyre. She’ll be okay.”

Cassian was stationed in the winter court, Feyre in the autumn court, both equidistant from you, however too far for them to know what’s happening during your meeting.

“I don’t like this. Something feels incredibly off. An ally sending a letter like that? It feels more like a love letter than some form of allyship. I think you let the high lord position cloud your judgement on this.”

“If it were a love letter, she wouldn’t have entertained it.” The high lord said, looking through the correspondence on his desk. He knows his nonchalance will annoy Azriel, hopefully allowing him some reprieve from the concern he’s feeling for you.

Azriel tuts, “you don’t know that.”

Rhys sighs, “you’re right, if she thought the love letter was from you, she would have gone, no hesitations.”

The high lord smirks, looking at the shadowsinger to gauge his reaction. He stops mid-step, “don’t say things like that if you don’t fully believe them,” then continues his pacing.

“I’ve known her for a long time, Az. In that time, she’s had many suitors come to her. She’ll always go on a first date - she says it’s because “you never know”, or whatever. Since being here and meeting you, I haven’t seen her even glance at another male vying for her attention.”

Azriel stops, looks at Rhys’s face for a long time, trying to decipher any hint of deception. His face was void of it. In fact, he looked honest and almost vulnerable.

Before Azriel could ask more, one of his shadows comes whizzing in at an incredibly fast speed, news of you, circling around Azriel’s ears to tell him what it saw as fast as it can.

“We have to go,” Azriel says, his face darkening with concern and shadows.

-

“Eris Vanserra, as I live and breathe,” you say, a smile gracing your face.

You don’t hate Eris, you actually spent some time with him while growing up. You don’t know if you particularly like Eris, however you’ve always had a soft spot for him due to the cruelties of his father.

“You seem surprised to see me,” he says, a smirk growing across his face, “I’m glad you came.”

“Why in Prythian did you send me a cryptic letter, and not just tell me who was requesting my presence?” You ask.

He steps closer to you and the tree you’re leaning against. “Because I’m sure those dogs would have thrown out any correspondence addressed from me to you.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” you say, letting the dog comment go for now.

“Oh? Then what about all of my previous letters?”

You stop, “previous letters?”

“I’ve been writing to you for months, my dear. I had to figure out new ways to get in contact with you.”

His grin was so feline, your interest in this meeting at an all time high. If Eris wanted an alliance with the night court, why would he go through all of this effort to reach you?

“Well, you have my attention now, Eris, what is it you desire?” You ask.

A wicked grin takes over his face, as he removes his hands from his pocket.

“You,” he says, unfurling his fist to reveal a powdery substance that he blows directly into your face.

You stumble a little and cough, confusion knitting your brows. You start to feel very heavy, and instinctively you reach out to lean against Eris as your balance starts getting more and more unsteady.

Eris is taking a few steps back, making you follow him. What you don’t realize in your confused state is he’s leading you across the border into Autumn, and once you have both feet in Autumn, he allows you to lean against him as he wraps his arms around your waist and winnows you away, except for one tiny little shadow that begins heading toward the Night Court.

-

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” Azriel is raving mad, having scoured the border for hours for you. “Where the FUCK did he take her?”

His shadow told him everything, how he incapacitated you, tricked you into willingly coming into his court. The shadows even recognized the faebane he made you inhale, however there was something different about this faebane they couldn’t quite figure out.

Azriel and Rhys scoured the location, with Rhys sending word to Cassian and Feyre to come to the rendezvous point.

“Brother-“ Rhys starts, trying to get Azriel to calm down. His anger was radiating off of him and the entire area was pitch black, with his shadows moving erratically.

“Don’t you dare,” Azriel snarls, “you convinced her to come here! You said “oh it’ll be safe! Cassian and Feyre won’t be too far away!” And now she’s gone! Who knows what he wants with her!”

Feyre and Rhys exchange a glance, clearly speaking to each other internally.

“Shut the fuck up! If you’re going to speak, speak out loud for all to hear!” Azriel barks.

Cassian was seriously concerned for his brother- he had never, ever seen him snap like that at anyone, let alone his high lord and high lady.

Feyre and Rhys were just as startled.

“Azriel, we understand, Feyre was in the spring court-“

“It’s not the same, not even one bit.” He bit back, “Feyre chose to go, she didn’t. Feyre is a High Lady, she isn’t. Feyre has tons of training and is powerful enough to hold her own against high lords, she isn’t. She’s with one of the most powerful non-high lord fae in Prythian. She can’t speak to us telekinetically, she has no mating bond to even tell if she’s alive, it is not the same.”

-

It’s been days since you were taken by Eris. All the inner circle can guess is that you’re somewhere in the Autumn Court. Eris covered his tracks well by having you willingly cross the border. Unless they had proof you were in imminent danger or being held against your will, there wasn’t much they could do, but that didn’t mean they stopped trying.

They even began going through the confiscated correspondence Eris tried to start with you, but it was mostly pleasantries, asking after Lucien, and updates on the lady of the autumn court, who you were quite fond of.

Azriel was looking paler than usual due to the loss of his shadows. They were all in the Autumn court, scouring every inch for you. They do as Azriel tells them to, yes, but he’s noticed how much they seem to like you. Some of them won’t come back to him when called, opting instead to play in your hair or ghost along your hands. He sighs at the memory.

Feyre is trying again to tap into your mind, just like she and Rhys have been trying to do the entire week you’ve been gone. Azriel was losing hope. He’d keep searching, he’d never stop searching, but he was losing hope.

Lost in his spiraling thoughts of a life without you in it, he was jolted from them when he heard Feyre gasp. “She let me in,” is all she says. The room has gone deadly quiet. “I’m not sure she knows I’m here, so I’m trying to keep very still.”

-

When you woke up, you were very confused. You must have fallen asleep at some point, the blankets wrapped around your naked body. The room you’re in is gorgeous, with brown walls, an ornately decorated fireplace, and beautiful artwork covering the walls. The door to your room begins to open and you breathe a sigh of relief at the sight of him.

“Hi sweetheart,” the male tells you, “I brought you coffee.”

The smell of the coffee hits you and you reach your hands out for a desperate taste of it.

“What time is it? How late did I sleep in?” You ask, taking a sip from the coffee cup. The notes of pumpkin melting onto your tongue.

“Mid-morning,” he coos, sitting next to you on the bed.

“And why didn’t you wake me?” You ask.

“I figured you deserved all the rest you could get after last night,” he says, placing a hand on your thigh, “and to have you well-rested for today.” He smirks.

You blush, still not used to this directness from him, “don’t you have work today?”

He sighs, “yes, yes, I just figured I’d bid you good morning before I started my day. Besides, I know you’ll be busy wedding planning all day. Wanted to see my beautiful bride at least once today.”

He kisses your temple, leaving you alone in the room, buzzing just thinking about his inevitable return.

-

Feyre didn’t dare broadcast the image to the Inner Circle. At first out of fear of what she might see - if you were being tortured, she didn’t want them to see that, especially not Azriel.

The contents of what she saw were almost more horrifying.

“Eris is playing tricks on her mind. She, uh, -“ Feyre looks around the room, afraid to tell them what she saw, making eye contact with Azriel, ultimately deciding to say something to get him to leave.

“He’s coercing her into marrying him.”

Everyone sits up straighter and chaos erupts. They all start yelling and bickering, trying to figure out what to do.

Rhys commands everyone’s attention, already having spoken with Feyre about getting Azriel out of the room.

“Azriel, see if you can find out anything about an upcoming autumn court wedding. If Eris and Beron are trying to hide this, it might not be known that it’s for a member of the High Lord’s family.”

Azriel leaves, thankful for something, anything, to keep his mind off of you marrying someone else and thankful for a small lead to finding you.

Once Azriel’s gone, Feyre turns to the group. “It gets worse.” She says, looking at Rhys in nervousness.

“How the Hel can it get any worse? Our friend being forced to marry him? What is worse than that?” Cassian asks, absolutely outraged that he let you go to that meeting.

“Eris has glamoured himself, it’s how he’s convinced her to go along with the marriage.” Feyre speaks softly, looking down at the ground.

The silence hangs in the room for a moment, and just when Feyre thought the silence would settle and stay for a while, Mor speaks up, “and who exactly is he glamoured as?”

Everyone in the room knows the answer, but they wait for Feyre’s confirmation.

“He’s glamoured as Azriel. She thinks she’s safe with Azriel in the Autumn Court and that they’re getting married soon.”

#acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel angst

[booksbluegurl]

Study Tip #2

How to not be overwhelmed by the vastness of your study syllabus?

I used to look at my one subject and get excited, but then I'd look at the another and another and another. And I'd get so excited to study that I wouldn't even want to study anymore. It felt like something that's too much to be done in the current moment. Or even in the whole day, week, month or year.

The way I fought through this is by sheer willpower. I do not exactly know of a hack. What I've done could be called a hack, because it worked for me perfectly but it takes a lot of will power that, let me tell you, you're definitely capable of.

Few steps that I used to not let myself feel overwhelmed before studying:

1: Let yourself actually feel overwhelmed. Don't get scared of it, don't shy away from it. Accept it. Whatever thoughts come to your mind, accept it. That's why I'm telling you to have some time set aside to analyse the syllabus. All of it. And when you do get overwhelmed, take a break, go for a walk and come back with the decision of doing what's in point 2.

Example:Lets say you have 15 chapters of English, 10 Chapters of Chemistry and 20 chapters of Biology. All of them are a little complex and lengthy. Go through the textbook, or the contents to atleast familiarise yourself with it all.

2: Now that you have good understanding of your syllabus, you must have atleast mentally broken it down into various parts. Now pick a part that you can do.

Example:Lets say you have picked up Cell Cycle from biology or you've picked up learning about particular poem from English or you've picked up Periodic Table from chemistry.

3: Often times we overestimate our boundaries specially if we're doing something for the first time, or after a long time. So, if you're panicking because you weren't able to finish the task you put for yourself (point 2), it's alright. You did great. Even if you have done is thousands times before, it's alright. Give yourself atleast 3-5 tries before judging yourself. That means, wait for the next 3-5 tasks. You'd likely be able to completely atleast 1 of them. How?

Example: Now, you realised that you weren't able to finish studying the whole chapter in a day. You're panicking but hold on, darling, let's take a deep breath, focus and will yourself to stay strong. Now, take one of these, let's say the cell cycle, break it down- 1. Read the contents of the chapter in text book.

2. Look at the diagrams, understand them, make them.

3. Read one topic at a time, let's say, Mitosis.

4. Do the questions of Mitosis.

5. Go to the next thing.

4: This time while setting how big or small that task should be, think about your last boundary: were you able to just scratch the line of the surface or were you far behind? And then set your next goal or task according to that.

One of the very important things to remember is that you shouldn't lose your hope. Everything is do-able. You just need to perhaps look at it for the 2nd or 3rd time. But you can do it.

- Tanishka.

Pictures from pinterest. Credit to the owners.

#study aesthetic #100 days of productivity #desi academia #light academia #productivity challenge #study motivation #studyblr #studyblr community #studying #you're doing amazing #study tips #study hacks #study inspiration

[cherienymphe]

Do you have any tips on studying the art of seduction or tapping into your sensuality as a woman? Books, movies, anything helps!

Rare topic of conversation alert but-

Forget men entirely. Tapping into your sensuality as a woman has nothing to do with men and everything to do with you and your love for yourself.

Date yourself. Court yourself. Move through life like you are in a relationship with you (because you are) and act accordingly. Treat yourself with care. Nourish your hair and skin and invest time + energy into making your mind and body feel good. Epsom salt baths, dancing, body oils, hair oils, buying yourself flowers, taking yourself on dates, meditation.

You can't be sensual if you're ignorant of and afraid of your own body. Familiarize yourself with it (stand naked in the mirror a lot, touch yourself non sexually a lot, study your own body a lot). You have to love your body and feel comfortable in your natural form. You have to feel confident and good both in and out of clothes.

That last part can intertwine with sexuality too. It's important to know what you like and what makes you feel good. It's healthy. Experimenting with self pleasure can help you learn a lot of things about yourself, some of them even non sexual.

Sensual means physically pleasing and it's related to the 5 senses, and taking the time to really indulge in those 5 senses will help you. We all know that things that are pleasing to the ear can have the power to relax us or turn us on, so listen to things that get your blood moving and make you feel warm. It could be asmr, it could be binaural beats, it could be a creator who reads stories and poems. I personally love to listen to Tom Hiddleston read poetry and short stories. He has a voice that is very audibly pleasing to me. Buy and wear scents that lift your mood, watch media or look at art that stirs up intense feelings. Indulge in touching things and things that feel good on your skin. Sleep naked, sit in the grass, walk on sand. Eat things that are very flavorful and juicy and messy lol. If you drink wine, I'd actually encourage you to research what kind of wine is best to drink with certain foods that really make flavors pop. Play music around the house, light scented candles or wax melts, give yourself massages. Just really indulge and take advantage of all of the senses that you can.

Look up sumrandomchick, zitacherry, and Anastasiamoongirl on tiktok

Movies/TV: kama sutra a tale of love, dangerous beauty (1998), The Borgias (Giulia Farnese and Lucrezia in particular), The Woman King, Moulin Rouge, Margarita With a Straw, The Handmaiden, She's Gotta Have It (2017), Belle de Jour (1967), Poor Things (I have yet to see this one but I have heard praises on its exploration of female sexuality). I personally don't want to recommend Memoirs Of A Geisha due to its wildly awful inaccuracies (so much so that the woman it's loosely based off of tried to sue the author I'm sure), however, if you take it with a grain of salt and have good discernment, there can be gems found in it.

#asks

[inkskinned]

most writing advice is good as long as you know why it is good, at which point it is also bad. the hardest thing (and most precious thing) about being an artist is that you gotta learn how to take critique. i don't mean "just shut up and accept that people hate your work," i mean you need to learn what the critique is saying and then figure out if it actually helps.

i usually tell people reading my work: "i'm collecting data, so everything is useful." i ask them where they put the book down, even though it's too long for most people to read in 1 sitting. i ask them what they thought of certain characters. i let them tell me it was really good but i like it more when they look a little stunned and say i forgot i was reading your book, which means they forgot i exist, which is very good news.

sometimes people i didn't ask will read my work and tell me i don't like it. and that is okay, you don't have to like it. but i look at the thing that they don't like and try to figure out if i care. i don't like that you don't capitalize. this one is common, and i have already thought about it. i do not care, it's because of chronic pain and frankly i like the little shape of small letters. you use teeth and ribs in all your work. actually that is very true. i don't know what's up with that. next time i will work to figure out a different word, thank you. you're whiny, go outside. someone said that to me recently and it made me laugh. i am on the whine-about-it website as an internet poet. you are in my native habitat, watching me perform a natural enrichment behavior. but i like the dip of whiny, how the word itself does "whine" (up/down, the sound out your nose on the y), but i don't know if i want to feel whiny. maybe next time i will work on it being melancholy, like what you would call a male writer's poetry.

repeated "good" advice clangs in a bell and doesn't hold a real shape, dilutes in the water. like sometimes you will hear "don't use said." you turn that around in your head and it bounces off the edges of your brain like it is a dvd screensaver. it isn't bad advice, but it feels wrong somehow, like saying easy choices are illegal! sometimes i will only use "said." sometimes i will just kick dialogue tags out to the trash. sometimes i make little love poems where the fact that i do not say "said" is very bad, and makes you feel bad in your body, because someone didn't say something. i am a contrary little shitbird, i guess.

but it is also good advice, actually. it is trying to say that "said" sometimes is clutter. it makes new writers think about the very-small words and very-small choices, because actually your work matters and wordchoice matters. "i know," you said. "i know," you sighed. "i know." we both know but neither of us use a dialogue tag, because we are in a contemporary lit piece.

it is too-small to say don't use said. but it is a big command, so it gets your attention. what are you relying on? what easy choices do you make? when you edit, do you choose the same thing? can you make a different choice? sometimes we need the blankness of said, how it slides into the background. sometimes we don't.

i usually say best advice is to read, but i also mean read books you don't like, because that will make you angry enough to write your own book. i also mean read good books, which will break your heart and remind you that you are a very small person and your voice is a seashell. i also mean you need to eat books because reading a book is a writer's version of studying.

my creative writing teacher in the 7th grade had a big red list of no! words and on it was SUNSET. RAZORS. LOVE. GALAXY. DEATH. BLOOD. PAIN. I liked that razor and love were tucked next to each other like birds, and found it funny that he believed we were too young to know the weight of razor in the context of pain. i hated him and his Grateful Dead belt, where the colored teddy bears held up his appraisal of us. i hated his no list. it is very good/bad advice. i wasn't old enough yet to know that when you are writing about death you are also writing about sunsets and when you write about love you are tucking yourself into a napkin that never stops folding.

back then my poetry was all bloody, dripped with agony when you picked it up. i didn't know there is nothing beautiful about a razor, nothing exciting about pain. i just understood sharpness, which he took to mean i understood nothing. i wrote the razor down and it wasn't easy, but it was necessary. that's what i'm saying - sometimes it's good advice, because it's not always necessary. and sometimes it is very bad advice, because writing about it is lifesaving.

hang on my dog was just having a nightmare. i heard that it is a rule not to write about dogs - in my creative writing mfa, my teacher rolled her eyes and said everyone writes a dead dog. the literature streets are littered in canine bodies. i watched the rise and fall of his ribs (there is that word again) and had to reach out and stop the bad dream. when he woke up he didn't recognize me, and he was afraid.

it is good/bad advice to say that poems and writing have to mean something. it is bad/good advice to say they're big feelings in small packages. it is better advice to say that when my dog saw where he was, he relaxed immediately, rubbed his face against me. someone on instagram would make fun of that moment by writing their "internet poetry" as a sentence that tumbles across a white page: outside it is sunset and my dog is still in a gutter, bleeding a galaxy out of his left paw. or maybe it would be: i woke the dog up/the dog forgot i loved him/and i saw the shape of a senseless/and impossible pain.

the dog is alive in this one, and he is happy. when i tell you i love you, i know what i said. write what you need to write, be gentle to yourself about it. the advice is only as good as far as it helps. the rest is just fencing. take stock of the boundaries, and then break them. there's always somewhere else you could be growing.

i love you, keep going.

#warm up #writeblr

[spriteofmushrooms]

Wei Wuxian sipped the wine Lan Zhan brought from Gusu in one of Jinlin Tai's many ostentatious peony gardens. He had found a branch in a ginkgo tree that was high enough that no one should see him at a glance where he still had a good view of the moon between the yellow leaves. It wasn't the worst way he could have spent his time at the Discussion Conference. Lan Zhan, for example, had to be xiandu. What could possibly be worse than that?

"Jin Ling, what's the matter now?"

Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes. Really, Jiang Cheng is such a wronged mother. He plays his part like a grand madam.

"Do you think Zizhen-ge is a better sect leader than I am?" Jin Ling hissed.

"What?" Wei Wuxian looked down. Through the branches, he could see Jiang Cheng's silver lotus guan glimmer with his head shake. "Where did you get that from? A-Ling, sit and explain."

"You complimented him in front of everyone," Jin Ling grumbled, but he flounced onto the bench.

Jiang Cheng folded himself gracefully, careful of the drape of his robes. "It's his first conference. All I did was walk him through presenting himself, like a junior should be treated."

"You liked his proposal."

"You like it, too, brat. Besides, a little support in the beginning keeps the old men at bay."

Jin Ling knocked his shoulder against Jiang Cheng's. "So it's not because you always wanted a poet for a nephew?"

Wei Wuxian couldn't see it, but he could imagine Jiang Cheng's face. But when Jiang Cheng spoke, it didn't match the tone he expected. Sad, but trying to joke. "After the poems Zixuan wrote?"

"A-Die wrote poems?"

Oh, oh, Wei Wuxian wanted to leave.

"Once he became enlightened, he was devout. 'Rain pearls on lotus leaves which bow gracefully/Thoughts of you collect and overwhelm me.' A-jie blushed for weeks." Jiang Cheng sighed. "The Jinlin Tai library should have them all somewhere. Please don't let Ouyang-gongzi read them."

Jin Ling huffed a laugh and threw his arm around Jiang Cheng's shoulder, which is when Wei Wuxian realized Jin Ling was taller and broader now. He hadn't seen them side by side in years. A light breeze stirred the gingko leaves and lifted the scent of peonies.

"Hanguang-jun didn't murder anyone with his eyes today," Jin Ling chirped. "Do you think he's starting to like politics?"

"Don't."

"Jiujiu..."

"He's the xiandu, Jin Ling. What do you think would happen if anyone overheard you disrespect him, especially while hosting the conference?"

Jin Ling groaned and threw his head back dramatically, jostling Jiang Cheng. Briefly, Wei Wuxian amused himself by imagining what Yu-furen would have made of her grandson. Then he gently slapped himself. "You're so boring, jiujiu! It's not like he respects either of us."

Jiang Cheng snapped, "I didn't realize you aspired to be so immature and irresponsible."

Immature? Irresponsible? Jiang Cheng had a lot of nerve! Wei Wuxian would tell him so, but then he would have to admit to hiding in a tree. Jiang Cheng would be so annoying about it, and Wei Wuxian really didn't want to bother!

"Aiya, jiujiu, if I can't complain to you about him, who can I? No one else sees what he's like."

Jiang Cheng leaned against Jin Ling, but then he ruined the picture by saying, "It's good that most people can't tell. If half of the sects ran to Zewu-jun with complaints about his beloved didi, he would leave seclusion before he was ready."

They were quiet for a few moments. Suddenly, Jin Ling burst out, "Do you really not care?"

Jiang Cheng paused. "About?"

"You know I spend time with—him!"

"You're sixteen, Jin Ling. Your memory should be good enough to remember every other time you've poked at this. And use his name; he doesn't actually appear every time you call."

"Wei-qianbei misses you!" Jin Ling grabbed Jiang Cheng's shoulders and started to gently shake him back and forth, but then Jiang Cheng pushed his hands away and stood.

"As you are clearly feeling better, I will leave first," Jiang Cheng hissed.

Jin Ling zipped in front of Jiang Cheng, blocking his path. "Jiujiu, I don't understand you at all! You want to talk to him, and he wants to talk to you. Why are you waiting?"

"He wants to talk to me so much that I learned about his elopement from gossiping disciples? He wants to talk to me so much that he lives in Cloud Recesses, which he hates? He wants to talk to me so much that he ignores Lan Wangji's hand on Bichen every time we meet?" With each question, Jiang Cheng prowled forward, and Jin Ling backed up.

"I don't think he hates Cloud Recesses..."

That's right; Wei Wuxian didn't. Lan Zhan was there, for one thing. And the juniors!

"That's because you don't fucking know him," Jiang Cheng snapped.

"Oh, and you do? When you won't even talk to him?"

"I was his assignment, Jin Ling. He either played with me or starved; he either trained to be the best or lost his position." Jiang Cheng laughed, dark and mean. "Not that I noticed."

"Jiujiu..."

"Let him live the life he wants, Jin Ling. Let me go to bed."

#pallas.rtf #mdzs #my writing #went through my old wips

[where-dreams-dwell]

Dexter is a cautionary tale of the need to accept discomfort as a part of life, with Emma as his contrast and aspirational example.

Throughout the show Emma embodies determination and self assurance. The only reason she thinks she can change the world is.. because why couldn’t she? In contrast Dexter has no idea what he wants and kind of resents having to even think about it, hence his jumping between careers and looking for purpose for the whole show.

While Em knows what she wants emotionally (the satisfaction or having made a difference, the achievement of doing what she always wanted) but isn’t sure on the specifics of what that will look like (I’ll write plays, no write poetry, no I’ll teach, okay no I’ll write a book), Dexter knows the specifics (I’ll be rich and famous) but doesn’t know what he wants emotionally (‘what will that look like?’ ‘I don’t know’).

While Dex is always running from uncomfortable feelings Em faces then head on and comes out the other side, able to learn from them.

As Dex is travelling to put off making long term decisions, Em has taken the first opportunity to do what she wants: writing, be it books, poems or in this instance plays.

On holiday Dex can’t allow himself to admit that he fancy’s Em and to leave it at that, he has to run from the honesty and vulnerability of that moment by adding on ‘but I pretty much fancy everyone’. In doing this you could argue that he looses his chance with her for several years, where as Emma’s confidence could have resulted in them getting together much sooner.

Dex misses his mothers last birthday because he doesn’t want to face reality. Instead of reacting to the fear and anger and pain of her diagnosis by spending every moment he can with her, or sitting down to have heart to heart talks with her, or helping her out in any meaningful way Dex runs away and numbs himself with substances, and is passed out for the little time he is in her presence.

When he’s nervous people won’t (or already don’t) like him on TV he again turns to substances to numb his feelings, and (instead of taking Em’s advice to ignore them) looks for reassurance from hangers on who don’t actually know him that well. He can’t sit in that worry/fear/discomfort so he finds a way to stop feeling.

When Dex’s marriage falls apart we see him running away to Paris to visit Em. And sure there are ulterior motives here (his hope and assuming that this could be the start of their romantic relationship) but the writer shows him literally traveling away from the country where his failed marriage, child and previous life were as he is show to be angrily talking about his divorce. As an image it appears like he’s running away from the reality of the divorce or running to Em for a distraction. It definitely supports Ems assumptions that he’s not serious about a relationship with her; she’s seen this behaviour in Dex before.

It’s even funny how in small ways we don’t see him handle upsetting things until the very end. Talking about his first marriage and the production the day became? Dex admits he didn’t want to rock the boat so he didn’t fight anything/reject anything/ have much say at all in his wedding. Sylvie drops off Jasmine? Dex is still at the cafe so Em is the one managing slightly awkward small talk. Jasmine practising her violin? We get a brief moment with Dex too but mainly it’s Em sitting through the recitals. In that last episode when they’re struggling with fertility, Em is the one who sits down and talks out her anger and fear and worry, where as Dex (who probably knew what the root of it all was) was happy to leave her to process it how she need to and support her while she did. If she hadn’t brought it up he wouldn’t have said anything.

That’s not becisarily a bad thing (Dex could have known that Em needed to process it herself before talking to him) but it is interesting that the writers engineer Dex to avoid all these moments of emotional discomfort. It reinforces his characterisation of being avoidant when confronted with conflict.

In contrast we kind of constantly see Em having to face hard moments and working through them.

Don’t know what to do with your life? Move to London to try and aim to work in your dream field. London life and restaurant job not going the way you planned? Commit to Dex’s suggestion of teacher training. Time to confess a secret? Here’s a hugely personal one about my past feelings for you. Past crush admits he kind-if fancy’s you? Stick to being honest about your past feelings and don’t take the opening to downplay them. You feel shit about your life and your secret affair? Well let’s turn that into motivation to finally write that book.

Not happy with your long term partner? End the relationship.

Emma’s whole confrontation with Ian is a masterclass in facing difficult conversations and emotions, being vulnerable and open and honest about your feelings, and finding empathy for another outside your point of view. And look what she gains from facing that hard in comfortable conversation? Closure, and a kind of friendship, one that lasts even after she dies.

When Dex confessed that he hoped they would start a romantic relationship in Paris, Em sits him down and starts that hard conversation about how she doesn’t think that is 1) what he even wants and 2) would work between them. She doesn’t brush off of hide from the conversation. And then when she has more information and time to think she commits to Dex.

Even after they sleep together there’s a scene of Em laying the ground rules, making it clear to Dex what she will and won’t stand in this relationship. That’s an awkward conversation to have but Em doesn’t hesitate and makes sure he knows from the get go what she expects and deserves. The writers are constantly showing us ‘Em doesn’t run from uncomfortable feelings’.

And then the tragic twist of fate: Emma is gone and Dexter finally has to learn to live with emotional discomfort. He can’t keep running because there is no escaping this, not like he did with his mum. Like he says to Imaginary-Emma ‘why would time change anything’. He is going to feel like this forever, there is no escaping it. Finally he is learning to face it, manage it, and work through it.

Of course Emma is far more than a literally device and is her own layered and well established character. But in this regard for Dex it’s almost as if she’s the final lesson for him to work through to grow up enough so he can eventually choose to return to the place they met.

And it could even come across as a reward for him; in learning to live with those difficult emotions, his reward is being able to remember Emma fondly, and to return to the place they met to seek out those memories. The memories are bittersweet, but now he remembers Emma as she was and not how she never got to be.

Like his dad said, he is eventually able to ‘live [his] life as if she were still here’ but in order to do that he first had to accept that she was gone.

#spoilers #one day #one day netflix #dexter mayhew #emma morley #grief #emotional maturity #grief is love persevering #emotionally avoidant #I feel like he runs from pain #and doesn’t know how to handle it manage it #so he ignores it and runs from it #until the universe says ‘fuck you’ and makes it unavoidable #media analysis