#and part of the reason i ended up in that relationship was bc i spent lower 6th in a trauma haze making terrible choices

[cupid-styles]

daisy (english profrry x TA!yn)

part one of english profrry is here!!!!!

word count: 6.3k

BIG content warnings: massive, glaring warning for an inappropriate relationship. y/n is a graduate student in this and of legal consenting age, but there's an age gap of four years between her and harry. she is his TA, which means there's a big power imbalance between them. bc this is fic we'll pretend it's romantic and all very consensual but if this is triggering to you in any way, DO NOT READ IT. it's not worth hurting your mental health. also, if anything remotely like this happens in your personal life, IT IS NOT OKAY.

other CWs: small smut scene at the end (m masturbation with descriptions of m receiving oral, slight cum play), y/n alludes to having seasonal depression but it's never outwardly said (just be aware since the descriptions of it could be triggering to some!), a bit of angst but nothing crazy

with all that out of the way, if you still choose to read, I hope you enjoy :) love you all lots!!

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. . .

Professor Styles is a dick. 

That’s what the entire English department said when it was announced that Y/N would be his newest teaching assistant for the spring semester.

They all sneered at her, throwing what they pretended to be caring warnings her way, claiming that he was impossible to work with and he didn’t even actually need a TA, he just liked picking students to embarrass. With their noses upturned at Y/N but not actually offering any kind of advice, she left the small English building shortly after the Dean unveiled the new schedule for TAs, anxiety bubbling in her stomach and thick, salty tears in her waterline. 

She knows Professor Styles doesn’t have the greatest reputation on campus. She actually actively avoided taking any classes with him throughout the duration of her bachelor’s degree, and even as she chose to stay on to enter her first year of graduate school, she picked any other available professors over him.

He was known for his less-than-personable demeanor and the way he picked apart students’ essays, leaving them questioning their entire life path. Y/N has never felt much insecurity about her career — she’s always wanted to go into English, maybe opting for a small but impactful job in publishing or editing — but having a professional ruin her writing sounded… well, awful. 

In reality, Y/N didn’t have much of a choice when it came to her teaching assistant preferences. She needed a job that wouldn’t take up too much of her time. Her first semester of grad school was difficult and stressful. All of her friends graduated and went on to cool jobs all over the country, while Y/N just stayed in the same apartment. She was homesick for her family and walked through a campus every day that reminded her of a better version of herself — one who had a flourishing social life and excellent grades. Just a few months of working on her masters degree had worn her down. 

Despite the slight dip in her grades from university to graduate school (an expected change, her advisor had explained), she was still recommended as a TA for the English department in the spring. She’d really been gunning after Professor Rooney, a kind, middle-aged woman who had spent years working glamorous jobs in the publishing world. She had connections everywhere and was incredibly sweet, and Y/N knew she would feel comfortable working in her sections for the semester. All winter break, she imagined how wonderful it could be; that maybe it was the huge win she needed after such a shitty fall. 

But Professor Rooney didn’t choose her. Professor Styles did.

Even with a promise of a reasonable stipend contingent on the completion of her TA position, Y/N’s world felt like it came crashing down just a little bit — but she knew better than to complain or blubber on about not getting her way. Instead, she chose to just get through it.

In the final days of winter break, Professor Styles emailed her to meet in his office the day before classes began. He didn’t ask if she was back on campus or if she had a good break. Y/N wanted to resent that, but chose to swallow it down. 

When she got to his small office in the department, she gently knocked on the open door, signaling her arrival. He peered up from whatever book he was hunched over on his deck, straightened his posture, and checked his watch. 

“You’re late.” he said flatly, shutting the paperback with a force she didn’t even know was possible. With furrowed brows, she glanced at the lockscreen on the phone she held. 

“You said 10:30, right? It’s 10:30 now.”

“On time is late,” he muttered, folding his hands on his desk, “Early is on time.”

She swallowed, her lips parting like a guppy. He rolled his eyes and motioned to the seat on the other side of her desk. Quickly, she took it, placing her tote bag at her feet and making a mental reminder to arrive at his classes five minutes early from this point on.

“Right, so you’re my TA, then?”

She nodded, “Yes, for the spring semester.”

He hummed, though she couldn’t tell if it was a sound of approval or discontent. He moved his computer mouse over the surface of the university provided mouse pad, making his computer buzz to life. With an awkward silence settling between them, the sound of the mouse clicking was the only thing that filled the dim office. 

“You just graduated from the English department last spring,” he said, eyes scanning over what she now assumed was her student file, “3.8 GPA. That’s fine.”

She blinked at that, resisting the urge to balk at him. 3.8 was .2 away from a perfect GPA. It was more than fine.

“You didn’t take any classes with me during your time as an undergrad.”

“Um, your sections were always full—”

“I don’t really care what your reasoning is,” he cut her off, continuing to scroll down the screen. A lump formed in her throat but she tried to swallow it down. Nothing sounded more embarrassing than crying in front of Professor Styles. “And now you’re getting your masters in English with a concentration in Feminist Literature. That’s an unusual one. Why?”

She’s surprised he’s bothered to ask her a question, so it takes her a moment to form a cohesive answer on her tongue. She’s flailing a bit and she knows he can tell, based on the unamused expression on his face. 

“I’ve read a lot of literature where there’s a female main character and she’s just used to state a point or some sort of backwards lesson that was considered modernized for the time,” Y/N speaks softly, picking at her nails in her lap, “I’m interested in studying that more.”

“What kind of literature?” Professor Styles instantly fires back. 

“Well, I wrote my undergraduate thesis on The Scarlet Letter, but I’ve also been thinking about basing my graduate capstone on Ophelia from Hamlet.”

He makes that annoying humming noise again, and she’s still unsure if he’s pleased or thinks she’s an idiot. She wasn’t unused to the latter — a lot of snobs in the English department thought it was stupid of her to care for critiquing older pieces of writing from an argumentative, feminist perspective, even if they acted like The Odyssey was an “absolute must-read” for everyone.

(It’s not. Y/N thinks The Odyssey is dumb and boring, but she’ll never say that, especially not to Professor Styles.)

“Right, well,” he lifts a white ceramic coffee cup to his mouth and swallows briefly. She glances down to see he’s drinking hot black coffee, and her lips furl into a quick, involuntary wince. “You’ll be with me three days a week. You are to attend the daily lectures — Mondays and Wednesdays are the shorter section and Friday is the long, three-hour one. Helping out with grading and holding office hours will be your primary tasks. If you fall ill or need to take a day off, I need at least 24 hours notice. If I receive any complaints from students, you’re out. Otherwise, it should be a fine semester. Any questions?”

She shakes her head, hoping he’ll show some inkling of delight at her quick ability to understand and process. Instead, his lips remain in a flat line and he nods, taking another sip of his coffee. 

“You can go now. See you tomorrow.”

She scrambles to leave his office as quickly as possible.

. . .

Professor Styles barely speaks to Y/N for the first few weeks. 

It’s unsettling in a way, especially because she doesn’t know if she’s doing a good job. She thrives off of reassurance, but every time she hands him a neat stack of newly graded papers or drafts, he simply waves her off with an, “alright, thanks.”

If she’s being honest, it makes her want to try even harder, though she’s not entirely sure why. She has the urge to claw her way to the very top of Professor Styles’ repertoire of students and assistants — a need for perfectionism that can only be quelled by the person least likely to give it to her. 

And it’s driving her absolutely insane.

She wants to ask, straight out, “am I doing an alright job? Do you need anything more from me?”, but she’s positive that will only make her glow with insecurity. He’d probably laugh in her face and call her a baby for needing his acceptance.

It eats her alive as she sits at the front of the lecture hall, watching his female students stare at him with hearts in their eyes as he discusses the politics of Ursula Le Guin. It bugs her only more than he's one of the most attractive people she's ever seen, always impeccably dressed with long, ring-clad fingers.

Grumbling, she realizes that she probably looks just as pathetic, so she quickly straightens her posture and runs her fingertips over the mousepad of her laptop so it glows back to life. She’s supposed to be going over the grades of the students’ first essays — her and Professor Styles were meeting after class to discuss them in the event that anyone needed additional assistance for the upcoming paper.

She busies herself with that until he ends class, creating a list of a few names that would potentially need to be met with one-on-one. He doesn’t say anything as he gathers his own materials from the lecture, and she follows him out of the hall and to his office just as silently, carrying her laptop in one hand and her tote bag on her shoulder. 

Professor Styles’ office is always cold and dark, never failing to send a shiver down her spine when he unlocks the door. Today, her shoulders shudder involuntarily and she pushes her sweater sleeves down to cover her hands. With a rumple in his eyebrows, he sits down. 

“What’s the matter?” he asks. 

Y/N snaps her head up in surprise. She doesn’t mean to look shocked, so she quickly revises her facial features in an attempt to look collected. 

“Oh, it’s just cold,” she says, waving him off nonchalantly, “I’m fine.”

“Yeah. I think this winter has been especially brutal.” 

His reply especially dazes her — she’s unsure if that’s an attempt at making small talk, something Professor Styles has never done with her before, but she instantly nods her head, as if she’s speaking with a toddler who’s expressing their emotions for the first time. 

“Yeah, I think so,” she says softly, “The snow is awful to walk through.”

“Do you live far from campus?”

She shakes her head and sets her laptop and planner on her side of the desk, across from Professor Styles and his things. 

“No, just a 10 minute walk or so, but I don’t have a car.”

He hums at that — that stupid, unassuming hum that contributes absolutely nothing to the conversation. She wonders if she’s in her head about it, but she feels his eyes linger just a beat longer on her face before tearing them away. He licks over his teeth as he taps on his laptop to wake it back up. 

“Right, then. Did you go over their grades?”

As she pulls her things out from her bag, she tries to ignore the small pit of disappointment in her tummy from Professor Styles shifting their conversation back over to class. 

. . .

That weekend, Y/N thinks she’s hallucinating as she meanders up and down the aisles at Target. 

She’s not really looking for anything in particular. Sometimes she just comes here for something to do. Her bank account isn't exactly flowing in a way that permits her to buy all the cute home decor she gazes at, which is why her basket currently consists of the following: pads, a new pack of her favorite gel pens, cookie dough, and a lip balm that she’ll probably put back before she checks out. 

It’s another harsh, cold day out, the freezing temperatures refusing to let up as the days of the month flit by. This is Y/N’s least favorite time of year — when winter sticks around despite the holidays being long gone. All that’s left between now and spring is pesky snow and fake Hallmark holidays, and she yearns for the days where she can walk to campus and admire the tulips peeking out from the damp soil. By then, she’ll be closer to returning to her hometown for the summer, where she’ll likely get a job for a few months working in the local library or bookstore.

It’ll be good — she’ll get to see her friends and spend time with family and save up some money, and maybe the hopefulness of life warming up in a few months will be enough to get her through this semester.

And as she’s daydreaming of brighter days, that’s when it happens — when she thinks she must be fully hallucinating, because as she strolls down one aisle in particular, Professor Styles is standing there, his bottom lip pinched between his fingers as he stares at space heaters. 

She’s never seen him off campus. Sometimes that happens since a lot of professors live close by, so it’s not unheard of to pass by an advisor or faculty member at the supermarket or through the park. But seeing Professor Styles here feels… illegal, somehow, especially given his casual, dressed down attire. He’s wearing what looks to be a cozy sweatshirt and a pair of athletic shorts, despite the temperature nearing the 20s today. (Y/N is bundled up in three sweaters, a jacket, a scarf, gloves, and leggings beneath her jeans.) White socks go just above his ankles, and the running shoes on his feet make her wonder if he’s insane enough to actually be working out in this weather. 

She must be analyzing his form for a beat too long — maybe it’s the shock from it that still hasn’t worn off — because he feels her gaze, eyes veering to his peripheral, realizing that his teaching assistant is standing there as if she’s waiting for permission to enter the aisle. 

“Hey,” she blurts out when she realizes she’s been caught. 

Confused by her frank, laidback greeting, he lifts his head to face her. “Hey.” he echoes awkwardly.

“Um, sorry.”

He quirks an eyebrow and Y/N’s body heats with embarrassment. “Sorry?”

“Sorry… I-I should’ve just walked away when I saw you,” Y/N quickly attempts to revise, but she realizes it’s just making her sound stupider, “I was just surprised to see you here.”

“In a public store?”

“Right,” she nods curtly, turning on her heel, “Have a good rest of your weekend—”

“Wait, did you need something down here?” he rushes out, almost as if he’s fearful she’ll leave. She pushes the thought down but parts her lips nervously, eyes scanning over the contents on the shelves. She doesn’t need anything, she was just putting off having to brave the cold weather on her walk home.

“Yes,” she says slowly because, once again, she’s suddenly stupefied and enamored by the prospect of small talk with Professor Styles, “I needed… lighters. For my candles.”

He nods, a quiet “ah,” sounding from his lips, and they stand there like they’re doing some sort of parallel play; Y/N pretending to look at the long, safety lighters while Professor Styles continues to look at space heaters. She wonders if he for some reason is pretending, too, but then he’ll squat down to look at the features on one box, making a tsk-ing noise with his mouth, and straighten back up to analyze a different model.

When he finally decides on an option that’s best fit, he grabs the box and places it in his cart. Quickly, Y/N plucks a random display of lighters and throws them in her basket.

“Hope you found a good one,” she mutters out dumbly, feeling the need to interject one last sentence into their silence. He glances down at his cart, then at her basket, and then, finally, at her. 

“It’s for the office,” he says. “You said it was cold.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“This should help with that.”

“Sure, yeah. I have one at home, it helps a lot with the draftiness.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for.”

“Maybe you can get an extra lamp in there, too. Spruce it up a bit.”

A wrinkle forms between his brows, “What do you mean?”

Y/N wishes the ground would swallow her up whole.

“Nothing! I just meant— like, sometimes it’s a bit cold, and with the weather, it can get dark, too. The winter’s tough, don’t you think? That’s all I meant, I’m sorry—”

“No, you’re right,” he says with a decisive nod. “You’re the only other person that really spends time there besides students. Do you want to help pick one out?”

“Sure, okay.”

They walk in silence to the lighting display, which is filled with a myriad of different options. Professor Styles looks semi-overwhelmed by it all and Y/N has to bite her lip so she doesn’t smile too widely at his confused expression. She points to a simple, inexpensive standing lamp.

“I think something like this would be good, in the corner or something. Just for some extra brightness.”

“Is that the one you like?”

Y/N doesn’t have strong lamp preferences, especially when it comes to a space that she’s not even living in, but for some reason, it seems important that she says yes. So she nods her head, flashing him a small smile. He returns it, and she realizes that’s the first time he’s ever smiled at her. 

“Okay. I’ll have this stuff set up for when you come in on Monday.”

She swallows, feeling the mountain of adoration in her stomach grow. She shoves it down. 

“Thank you, that’s really kind of you,” she says.

“Sure. I’ll see you then. Have a good rest of your weekend.”

She hides in the lamp aisle for another 15 minutes, until she’s positive he’s left the store. 

. . .

Professor Styles and Y/N are working in their typical silence when he says something that makes her jaw nearly drop to the floor.

She thought that after their short but personable interaction at the store, things would change a bit. Maybe he would feel more comfortable talking to her outside of monotone grunts or the occasional “are they failing my class?”, but things remained the same. When she came in that Monday, the space heater and lamp were both on and running as he promised, but it was as if nothing happened. 

It irks Y/N to no end.

She assumes that he sincerely doesn’t care for her, which she supposes is fine considering kindness or approval aren’t part of the job description. That’s why she’s shocked when he says it a few weeks after the weekend they saw one another in public. 

“I think you should ask to change your advisor to me.”

Y/N chokes on her spit, hurriedly coughing into her hand so she doesn’t spray saliva all over his desk. Once she recovers, he’s staring at her expectedly, as if what he said was completely and utterly sane. 

“Sorry?” she asks, “Why would I do that?”

She doesn’t mean it to sound rude, but it’s a genuine question. Typically, there’s some type of rapport between a grad student and their advisor, and she and Professor Styles have absolutely none of that. 

Professor Styles clears his throat and folds his hands on his desk. “Because I got my masters degree in the same thing, so I spent four years studying exactly what you’re studying. I think you’ve been doing very well as my TA and I would like to advise you.”

“Why would you ask me why I was studying that, then?” she blurts out, confusion apparent on her face. “The first day we met, you told me it was unusual.”

“It is.”

“But you studied it.”

“I did.”

“So why would you say that?”

Professor Styles sighs as if this is the most boring and obvious conversation he’s had all day. 

“I wanted to hear you defend it. See why you’re interested and make sure it’s not all bullshit.”

Y/N shakes her head, “So you were playing some kind of mind game with me? For fun?”

“It wasn’t a mind game, Y/N. I just wanted to know why you’re interested in it.”

She bites her lip and looks down at her laptop screen, which has since gone dim since they began talking. If she’s being truthful, she’s grown tired of Professor Styles. Up until now, she was positive she was doing things wrong and he just didn’t care enough to correct her — only to find out that he wanted to work with her even more. It made zero sense.

“Are you going to do it, then?” he asks, tearing her from her thoughts. Her expression pinches as she rolls her lips into a thin line. 

“I don’t know.” she answers in a watery voice. “I like my advisor, and I assumed you didn’t like me very much.”

His eyebrows furrow. “Why wouldn’t I like you?”

“You barely utter three words to me on a daily basis and never tell me if you’re happy with my work.”

Professor Styles scoffs, leaning back against his leather computer chair. 

“You need regular approval from me to know whether or not I like you?”

“Yes,” she admits, anger building in her chest until she can’t help but blurt out what she’s thinking, “It’s how I work. If you were a good professor, you would’ve asked how I best function at the beginning of the semester. Instead, you ignore me for fun.”

“You don’t think I’m a good professor.”

She sighs and shakes her head. “I didn’t mean that. I think you are. I just don’t think you’re the best at managing teaching assistants.”

He shrugs, but she notices a slight wince in his features. “We can’t all be good at everything, can we?”

“Right,” she mumbles, drumming her fingers on the edge of his desk. When he doesn’t reply, she shuts her laptop and stuffs it in her bag. “I’m gonna go then. I’ll see you next week.”

He’s silent as she gets her things together and pulls her jacket on, wrapping her scarf around her neck and zipping it on top of her sweater for extra warmth. As her boots carry her across the length of his office and to the door, he stands from his seat. 

“Y/N,” he says, and she turns to look at him. “The deadline to change your advisor is next Friday. I hope you’ll still consider it.”

. . .

That evening, all Harry can think about is his sweet, quiet TA. The one who he undoubtedly offended earlier today — he cringes at the thought of it, replaying their conversation over and over in his head. He can’t stop thinking about the upset look on her face. When she asked if he was playing mind games with her, he wanted to get down on his knees and beg for her forgiveness. He never meant to hurt her, not one bit. 

He sighs as he runs his hand through his hair. He’s had reruns of some shitty sitcom on since he got home from work a few hours ago. He didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts, but even a laugh track and ‘90s era merriment couldn’t distract him from thinking about her. 

He considers the things she said about wanting his approval. He’s never been well-liked in the English department, likely because of his rough exterior. He’s not immune to the things he hears from students and faculty, about how he’s grumpy and someone to be feared, even if he didn’t even intend to come off that way. In all honesty, he never wanted to be perceived in that matter — but once his reputation began to precede him a year or two ago, he figured there was no use in trying to convince people otherwise. 

That's how it had always gone, anyway — in high school, when he started experimenting with different styles of clothing, everyone assumed he was gay. He'd desperately tried to refute those claims, even if he wasn't completely sure of his sexuality himself. But no one cared — they'd already made up their minds, and it seemed useless to attempt to change their ways of thinking.

And when people spoke here, mumbling about how mean and terrible he was... well, what was the point?

Y/N was the only person he cared to win over, and it was eating him alive.

So much so that he made the blind decision to maybe, possibly cross a very clear boundary between professor and TA. Despite Y/N being of legal, consenting age (after looking at her student file, he found that he’s only four years older), he still attempted to prioritize maintaining a professional relationship with every one of his students and TAs. 

He couldn’t help himself with her, though. He knew it was bad — he could feel his heart thumping quickly in his chest, the logical part of his brain telling him to stop while he’s ahead, but he couldn’t. Not as he grabbed his laptop, logged into his work email, and composed a message to her student address. Not when his fingers danced over the keyboard and resisted the urge to implore her to start fresh with him. Not when he clicked ‘send’ without even proofreading to make sure it sounded appropriate, not creepy or weird.

He pushed his laptop away and got up to pour himself some wine, attempting to rid himself of any lingering guilt.

. . .

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Today

Time: 9:57 p.m.

Hi Y/N, 

I wanted to apologize for how I acted today. It wasn’t kind of me and you deserve far better than that. I understand if you have no interest in changing your advisor. Please know that whatever you decide, your TA position will not be in danger, should you choose to continue working with me.

Thank you for all of your hard work. You’ve been doing an excellent job and I’ve very much enjoyed having you this semester. Have a good weekend.

x Harry Styles

. . .

On Monday, Y/N’s mind is whirring. 

It’s not because the semester is nearing midterm season, although that’s part of it. It’s because Professor Styles emailed her an apology at almost 10 pm on Friday evening, and she’s repeatedly read it over at least 50 times since receiving it. 

She didn’t reply because she wasn’t sure what to say — and, most shockingly, he didn’t sign it as Professor Styles. Instead, he ended the message with a kiss, for crying out loud, followed by his name. His name! 

It’s all she’s been able to focus on for days, to the point where she contemplates not showing up to his lecture on Monday. But she’s better than that — she’s stronger, and she’s smarter, and she doesn’t want to hide. 

She avoids Professor Styles’ gaze all throughout his lecture, instead focusing on grading first drafts for the class’ midterm paper. She knows she’ll have to sit with him in his office afterwards, and her stomach churns at the thought. In some way, she feels ashamed that she said anything to begin with. Her comments about him not managing TAs properly have made her shrivel into a mortified version of herself, and she’s shocked he didn’t fire her on the spot. 

Worst of all, she hates the way her heart jumped into her throat when his name popped up on her screen on Friday night. She craved the feeling, hoping he would, for some reason, do it again, even though she never responded. She wasn’t playing hard to get by any means, but the fact that her brain even veered in that direction proved one thing to be true: she has a big, fat crush on Professor Styles.

The knowledge sits like a rock in her stomach, especially as they walk in silence to his office after class. The air between them feels awkward, but she’s not sure that there’s ever been a time where it hasn’t felt odd between them. When he unlocks the door, she quietly steps inside, her heart skipping a beat at the space heater and lamp already turned on. 

Usually, he keeps the door open while they work. Today, he shuts it, the soft click of the lock making her jump. 

“Can we talk?”

Y/N’s throat dries but she nods, gripping the strap of her tote bag close to her arm. She turns to face him, and for the first time ever, she notices that he looks… nervous.

“About last week. I’m sorry, but I’m even more sorry for emailing you that on Friday,” he rushes the words out like he wrote a script out and was waiting to perform them, “It was completely inappropriate, and I got the hint when you didn’t reply.”

“The hint?” she peeps out, her voice squeaky and embarrassing. 

“Yeah,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest, “About not wanting me to advise you and… you probably found my email to be weird, right?”

Quickly, she shakes her head. “No, no. I.. I actually haven’t given much thought to the advisor thing, but I didn’t think it was weird. I just didn’t know how to respond.”

His eyebrows furrow, “Why’s that?”

“Because I felt guilty about what I said to begin with! A-and you could’ve fired me if you wanted to, but instead you apologized and said that I’m doing a good job—”

“You are.”

“Exactly!” she exclaims frustratedly. “I didn’t know how to respond to that.”

“To me being… kind?”

“Yes.”

He blinks at her, the crinkle between his brows deepening. 

“I’m just not used to it, Professor Styles.” she says with a sigh.

“Harry,” he corrects.

“What?”

“My name is Harry. I don’t want you to call me Professor Styles.”

Y/N ignores the quickening of her heartbeat and shifts her stance from foot to foot. 

“Why are you doing this?” she eventually blurts as she crosses her arms over her sweater-clad form. She’s not sure if she detects an inkling of pity in his face, but if she does, she wants nothing more than to run for the hills and never return. For some reason, the thought of Professor— Harry feeling bad for her makes her shoulders shudder, a prickly sensation tip-toeing down her spine, as if shame is completely and utterly eating her alive. 

His lips part in a quiet sigh. “I just… I spent the weekend thinking of you and feeling awful for the way I’ve treated you.”

Thinking of you.

I spent the weekend thinking of you.

Her stomach turns as his words echo throughout the chambers of her brain. But then there’s a click — like the second part of the sentence just ekes its way through, planting a seed of self-doubt and insecurity. And she backs away like he may explode at any moment. 

“You shouldn’t— no, that’s alright,” she shakes her head, gaze set low on the carpeted floors of his tiny office. 

“Y/N—”

Again, she cuts him off with a shake of her head, raising her eyes to look at him. His expression is pained and she wonders if hers is any better, though she assumes for different reasons: He doesn’t want to get fired for torturing another grad student. She has an inappropriate crush on the professor she works for.

“It’s all good. Call it even?” she rushes out, leaning over to grab her things from her chair, “Fresh start on Wednesday. Don’t mention it again, alright?”

She’s gone before he can stop her. 

. . .

Harry accidentally falls asleep in his office that evening. 

It’s half because he’s absolutely swamped with work, too fearful to email Y/N and add things to her grading pile after the way she all but ran away earlier today. He’s terrified he made her uncomfortable. 

He doesn’t want to return to the quiet loneliness of his apartment, where he’s constantly faced to force the reality of his life: A man in his early 30s with a job that he likes, but no one actually likes him at it. His entire family resides in London and with the exception of a few friends from his schooling years, he’s alone. Especially in the romance department.

His heart aches for Y/N. He realizes it’s a bit dramatic, even slightly taboo given the nature of their professional relationship, but he likes her. He likes her so much that he doesn’t want to go home and think about how badly he messed things up, so he falls asleep face-down on his desk, his cranium wedged between piles of pens and a Post-It list of to-do’s. 

When he wakes up, he doesn’t know how long he’s been asleep for. The soft, golden light from the lamp is still just barely bathing the circumference of the room, but as he blinks his eyes open, he realizes that it’s silent. He can see through the small frosted window that the hallways are dim, which means it’s most definitely sometime in the evening. 

He feels… somewhat guilty but charged as he wakes from the fog of his sleep, eyebrows furrowing as he stretches his arms out. His neck already aches from the discomfort of his sleeping position and he groans, lifting a palm to sort the knot out. 

And that’s when he realizes it — why he feels as if his body is buzzing, his hands sweaty and his throat dry. He’d woken up in the middle of a sex dream and, like a pathetic teenager, the star of it had been his crush. Y/N. 

He scoffs to himself as he glances down at his crotch where, sure enough, his length is painfully hard beneath the constriction of his trousers and underwear. He swallows, eyes flickering closed. He can remember the exact details of his dream, even if they send a bead of guilt dripping down his chest — they’d been in his office, just like this. She was between his legs, knees pressing into the carpet of the floor, her eyes rounded and expectant as he toyed with her, pretending to guide his cock between her lips only to take it away at the last minute. She pouted every time, a plushy lipped-frown punctuating the words he hadn’t even realized he’d been dying to hear: “Please Professor Styles, stop teasing me.”

At the realization, he’s sent into a frenzy. He doesn’t even think to check whether the door is locked (or maybe if he’s locked in the building, no less), before he’s clawing at his belt and zipper, yanking the fabrics down to reveal a pair of swollen balls. His length stands hard, his eyes nearly rolling back just from the feeling of looping his fingers around the base. He can’t remember the last time he was this pent up just from his own imagination, but it’s not a difficult place to return — not as his head leans back against his office chair, allowing his dream to pick up and take form in full consciousness. 

So much pre-cum is bubbling at the tip that he doesn’t need much of his own spit to lubricate himself. He bites his lip hard to prevent himself from groaning out too loudly, envisioning the way she’d finally suckle around the tip of his cock, looking up at him with proud eyes. He’d gradually help her go deeper, but she’d be excited, willing to bruise her throat for him. She was so good — in his dreams, in real life, she was always so, so good.

“So good, Professor,” she’d pant out, popping off to lick a stripe up the side of his cock. With spit-swollen lips, she’d venture down to his balls, rolling them in the palm of her hands before taking each one into her mouth. In reality, he gasps at that, tugging them in his own hand. 

But what really gets him there is an impossible thought — one that has nothing to do with the silly wet dream his brain conjured while he slept. Her in her own bedroom, her naked form wrapped up in her sheets while he gazed over lovingly, pressing soft kisses along her shoulder and down her arm. She’d giggle breathily before flipping onto her side to face him. And she’d say it — I love you — and it’d feel like heaven. 

That’s what pushes him to finish all over his hand, cum dribbling over his fist as he pants and gasps like he’s just discovered masturbation. His orgasm encompasses his entire body, a few beautiful, peaceful moments of complete pleasure that causes all of his muscles to tighten deliciously. Of course, he envisions her taking all of his cum, licking it up eagerly over his digits, making a show of it — she’d open her mouth, pretty pink tongue out, and he’d watch as she swallows. He shudders at the thought of it, quickly snapping his eyes open and grabbing a tissue from the box on his desk to clean himself up. He’s immediately back to his grumbly state as he does, irritated that he allowed himself to lose control in such a finite way.

He tosses the dirty tissue in the garbage can and stands up to tug his briefs and pants back up. The clink of his belt buckle is the only sound throughout the small room, so he jumps when a knock sounds on the other side of his closed door. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, someone knows, I must have said her name, I’m such a fucking freak—

His eyes widen when the person speaks: “Profess— Harry? Are you in there? It’s Y/N.”

#writing #English profrry #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles one direction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fic rec #harry styles fic rec #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #one direction #harry styles fanfic rec #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x oc

[doberbutts]

Curious about something you mentioned in your post last week, you said that in your opinion all drugs should be legal and I’m curious about how that would be a positive at all? Like I get weed bc it’s pretty harmless but when I think of drugs I think of cocaine and heroin, which have destroyed so many lives. If it was widely available wouldn’t that end up hurting more people than helping? That’s just my opinion but I’m curious on the other side

I do think all drugs should be legal. This is said knowing that addiction runs in my family and that the only reason my older sister is my *sister* is due to drug use and addiction. Otherwise she'd be my cousin.

Making drugs illegal does not stop people from getting high. It does not stop drug related crime. And it certainly does not stop drugs from tearing families apart.

Addiction is a symptom of a larger problem. Solve the problem and the addict problem goes away. Solve the addict problem and drugs stop ruining lives and destroying families and creating massive amounts of drug related violence. Places that have roled out decriminalization strategies effectively have seen an overall reduction in crime rates across the board, a reduction in recreational drug use, and a reduction in bloodborne illness like HIV. Creating safe needle exchanges as well as safe places to get high with medical staff onhand has also created a locale where very few people die from overdose.

Most people hear "decriminalize all drugs" and think I mean a free-for-all. I don't. I think the drug market should be regulated. I don't think you should be able to get ketamine or heroin over the counter at a walmart like you can get asprin. But I think it's time to stop putting people in jail for getting high.

My aunt tore her life and her family and her health apart for years while she was addicted to heroin. My sister, her daughter, needed to be removed from her care due to the amazingly bad choices she made as a mother due to her addiction and her prioritizing drugs over the health and safety of her daughter. My aunt has had multiple heart attacks from the damage the constant drug use did to her body.

My aunt is more than a decade sober and do you know why? It's not because she got a wakeup call when her daughter was taken away, because at the time she willingly and freely signed her over to my parents because that got her "out of [her] hair". It's not because she had a heart attack, because she went right back to it the moment she was out of the hospital. It's not even because she spent time in rehab and prison, because the moment she was out she was using again.

No, my aunt got sober because her life changed. She was put on a better pain management plan. She got out of her shitty marriage to her shitty husband. She completed some education to make her more hireable so she didn't have to rely on less than safe means of paying her bills. She reconnected with my sister and reforged their relationship once she was 18. She bought her own house. She found love with someone who didn't give a shit about her past and brought out the best in her.

My aunt was a deeply unhappy person. Heroin made life more tolerable for her. Until she couldn't tolerate life without it. Until she'd do anything, anything, to get her next high.

A lot of addicts are addicts because they are self-medicating for something else and their drug of choice has chemical properties that makes their brains crave it more. If you fix the "deeply unhappy" part, you create a healthier environment for that addict to take control over their life again. Without it, they are far more likely to continue to relapse.

Knowing this, why would I then want to add the threat of prison and jailtime- life-ruining things themselves- to an addict's list of concerns?

Look up rat park sometime. In the rat paradise, drugged water was freely offered, and occasional a rat here or there would take a hit or two, but rarely enough to even get high and almost never habitually. Addiction literally didn't exist even though the rats were taking addictive substances. But the rats in cages, seperated from each other, with no enrichment, crammed into small spaces and stressed to hell? Those rats took hit after hit after hit until they overdosed and died. The addict rats were deeply unhappy. The drugs were their only escape. The paradise rats had to be lured in with sweetened drugs to even consider and even then they rejected them. The caged rats did not need sweetner, even though the drugs made the water bitter.

If we can see such a stark difference in rats having their needs met vs rats experiencing isolation and stress, what would happen if we showed human addicts the same consideration?

I think a lot better results than continuing to jail deeply unhappy and desperate people for doing the only thing they can think of to cope.

[unearthly-doting]

finding their soulmate: genshin edition.

a/n: i haven't made a post here in a hot second and i honestly apologize about that lol. the motivation to write just hasn't been there but!! here's a small lil genshin post for now. i just spun a wheel to pick who i write but if u want me to write for some of the others then just lmk!!

includes: xiao, kaeya, kujou sara, albedo, tartaglia, and ayato.

warnings: mdni, yandere content, not edited, gn reader, kidnapping, forced relationships, arranged marriage, manipulation, reader injury in both kujou sara's, albedo's and tartaglia's parts, childe stabs you :peace sign:, canon is a very vague concept in my writing more often than not btw, this is kinda cringey </3, the yandere content in albedo's part is actually very mild bc i was restraining myself bc there was a lot i wanted to do w it.

XIAO — never really cared much about finding his soulmate. His entire existence was dedicated to protecting Liyue, even if the nation no longer needed his protection. Besides, with how long he's been around, he just assumed his soulmate was long dead and that he'd never meet them. Though, a small part of him wondered... what was his soulmate like?

And, almost as if the universe had been listening, he ends up meeting you. His soulmate. It wasn't a classic, romantic meeting. He didn't save your life or anything like that. You were just a traveler who decided to stay at the inn.

He didn't think much of you until his eyes met yours and suddenly color was flooding into his world. It made him dizzy, and it stunned him into absolute silence because all he could so was stare at you with wide eyes.

You were clearly going through it as well, because obviously. You just met your fucking soulmate on a damn business trip. What the hell were you supposed to do now? It would be awkward to just... ignore what had happened, right? I mean, he's staring right at you and this was all just very overwhelming.

It was an awkward first meeting, that's for sure.

But during your time at the inn, whenever you were free from work, you spent it with Xiao. He was closed off, clearly keeping his guard up and not letting you get too close. You didn't know the reasons, but you didn't expect him to tell you his entire life story just because you two were apparently bound by the universe.

Honestly, you just assumed he didn't want to be with his soulmate. This didn't upset you. It wouldn't work out, anyway. You're only staying for a few weeks before heading home.

But archons, did Xiao want you. Behind his typical, distant behavior, Xiao was taking note of everything about you. Your interests, your habits, your sleep schedule, your favorite foods and desserts... everything you told him or subconsciously revealed, Xiao was tucking it away in his mind.

He wanted you. He wanted you to stay here, in Liyue, with him. Where you belong. But he didn't know how to express that. He's never been in love before, and it's not like he'll just suddenly become an expert at romance after meeting you.

When it was time for you to leave, he was crushed. He needed you to stay. He needed you by his side. Letters wouldn't be enough to fill the emptiness in your wake if you left. You had to stay.

You will stay.

And when you wake up to find yourself no longer in the inn, and instead in some small home deep within the mountains of Liyue, you're distraught.

Xiao looks genuinely guilty, robbing you of your freedom but... you understand, don't you? You have to understand. He just couldn't let you go. You're his soulmate, you were destined to be with him! You'll love it here, he'll make sure of it.

Just stay.

KAEYA — had always wondered what his soulmate was like ever since he was a child. He would spend hours just staring at the small crescent moon forever stained on his wrist, wondering if and when he'll meet the person with a matching mark.

Of course, as he got older he spent less time thinking about such things, though he did always hold out hope that he might be able to one day meet his soulmate. Little did he know, he's met his soulmate already. Multiple times.

You took over Sara's shifts at the Good Hunter whenever she had other things she needed to focus on, so Kaeya has spoken with you on numerous occasions, he's just never realized you were his soulmate because you keep your wrists covered. He's not one to judge, his wrists aren't visible either.

Him finding out was an accident. You had been handing him his order when your sleeves rolled up a bit, and his gaze just so happened to look at your wrists and he saw the very same crescent moon that was on his.

And for a moment, he froze. He just stared. Long enough that you were starting to feel a little uncomfortable. But before you could awkwardly send him on his way, he was showing you the crescent moon on his wrist as well and thus began your love story.

Or... well... it's what Kaeya had hoped for, but you didn't seem interested in soulmates at all. You didn't want the universe to decide who you were meant to be with, you wanted to make that decision yourself, so you had, to put it simply, bluntly rejected him.

And he gets it! It hurts, sure. He spent his entire life dreaming of this day, and it's not turning out the way he had hoped, but... you guys can be friends, at least, right? No strings attached?

For a while, Kaeya was fine with that. You and he had a really strong friendship. He cared about you, and you cared about him. Though your feelings were platonic, he was holding on to the hope that maybe one day, you'll realize you two were meant to be together.

But it was starting to seem as though that day might never come, because almost a year into your friendship with him, you had told Kaeya that you were thinking about entering the dating scene. He was... not too pleased about that, honestly. It was pretty obvious too, the way his entire mood soured the moment you brought the topic up.

He didn't stand by idly while this happened. Any person he saw you chatting up with romantic intentions would suddenly avoid you like the plague the next time you saw them. Any blind dates would end with you being ghosted. Hell, even some of your friends, the ones who were helping you get dates, were starting to avoid you too. It was so confusing.

But not Kaeya. No, Kaeya was always by your side.

Whenever you needed him, he was there. He always seemed to be able to make time for you. He listened to you vent your frustrations out, never once judging you or telling you that you were being dramatic. He was the only constant in your life these days.

Of course, you were completely oblivious to the fact that he was the cause of all of this. It's not that hard to blackmail people, he's learned. But they didn't deserve you anyway, seeing how easily they gave up on you the moment he approached them.

Maybe... maybe dating Kaeya wouldn't be so bad... I mean, you're the one deciding this, right? The universe isn't having any play in it. This is your decision. Isn't it?

KUJOU SARA — never cared about her soulmate. She knew she had one, you were in every dream she had. She found it to be more of a nuisance than anything else.

Her entire life was dedicated to her training, and to the Raiden Shogun. She neither had the time, nor the interest in searching for her soulmate. Besides, it didn't seem as if you resided in Inazuma. Your clothing was similar what people in Fontaine wear, and Fontaine was far away from Inazuma.

She was confident that she wouldn't be meeting you any time soon, so she never gave you any thought when she was awake. She never made any plans on what she would do if she did, by any chance, meet you. It didn't matter.

And she can't help but regret that, now that you're standing in front of her. If she had known that meeting her soulmate would make her feel like this, as if everything in the world suddenly made sense, then... well... she doesn't know what she would've done, to be honest.

No matter, Sara had no time to entertain you. Your stay in Inazuma was only temporary, so she saw no point in trying to form a bond with you. You, however, seemed to have different plans. She was used to seeing you in her dreams every night, but she was not used to seeing you in her waking moments.

Whenever she wasn't preoccupied with something, you were there to offer her company. It was annoying, and she's sent you away more than once, but that didn't seem to deter you. If anything, you seemed to become more determined each time she brushed you off.

At some point, she had given up on avoiding you. It was easier to just let you stick around. And, the more time she spent with you, the more attached she was becoming. It wasn't smart, she knew that, but could you blame her? You're so... irrevocably you.

Her fondness for you didn't go unnoticed.

Many people in Inazuma treated you with the same respect they treated Sara. You were her soulmate, after all. Should someone insult you, they would in turn be insulting her. Nobody wanted to get on her bad side.

There were, however, a few bad apples.

It should come as no surprise that a target was placed on your back the moment people took notice of Sara's attachment to you. She didn't think she'd have to worry much, because no one would be idiotic enough to actually try and harm you under her watch, but she should've known better.

It happened a few days before you were set to leave Inazuma to return home. A disturbance was going on within the city so Sara wasn't with you when you went on your daily walk just outside of it. It was supposed to be safe, but it wasn't.

Some vagrants had got the jump on you, and you nearly lost your life. You were lucky enough to have been found by some bystanders, but Sara was less than pleased when she heard about this. She had never taken pleasure in killing anyone before, but there was a deep-rooted sense of satisfaction deep within her chest when she watched the lives of those who hurt you fade away.

And as she sat by your side, waiting for you to wake up, she came to a decision. You can't be alone. If you are, you'll get hurt, and she won't be able to protect you. She can't let you leave Inazuma. She knows you'll more than likely hate her for making this decision for you, but if it means she can keep you safe, keep you alive and by her side, then... that hatred is something she'll be willing to bear.

ALBEDO — doesn't have a soulmate. At least, he's not supposed to. He's an artificial being, so it wouldn't make sense for him to have a soulmate. Of course, he does find the concept of soulmates to be intriguing. Who, or what, decides who people are destined to be with? It's a question he hopes to find an answer to.

So he wasn't surprised when he found you passed out in the snow, deep within Dragonspine. He's seen this countless times before, travelers who don't take precautions before trying to brave the deadly cold that comes with being here. He assumed he would just nurse you back to health and you would go on your merry way.

That changed, however, when he was cleaning your wounds and he saw his name inked on your skin, right on your collarbone. In his handwriting, at that. It confused him, because... that would mean that he's your soulmate. But he can't be. And yet, it didn't come off when he tried wiping it off. It was a part of your skin.

This left him with many questions, though none of them got answered when you woke up. You couldn't remember much about yourself, other than your name and a few other details. You didn't even know why you were in Dragonspine, or where you were from. You did hit your head pretty badly, judging from the headwound, so that would explain the amnesia, though he's not sure if it was going to be something temporary or not.

You both decided it would be best to just have you stay here until you were able to recover some of your memories and although Albedo wasn't eager to make friends with you, he was grateful for the company. He was incredibly patient with you too, answering any questions you may have had ranging from a multitude of different topics.

And in return, you helped out as much as you could without overexerting yourself and making your injuries worse. You'd make sure to keep his little lab tidy when he was away. You'd help out with some of his experiments too, if he knew you wouldn't get hurt doing so.

All while trying to figure out how he could possibly be your soulmate. He checked over himself. Four times. Your name was nowhere on his body. So why? Why was his name on yours? As much as he hates to admit it, he thinks he may never get an answer to this mystery.

Though... that's not such a bad thing, he thinks. He finds himself enjoying your company more and more with each passing day, the whole soulmate thing rarely even crossed his mind. At least, until you had asked him why his name was permanently etched into your skin. It was fairly easy to explain everything to you, though he was unable to answer a few of your questions, sadly. Soulmates were still a mystery, after all.

And when you asked if you could write your name on him so you two could match, he found himself unable to say no. He found himself unable to speak at all, actually, as you wrote your name on his shoulder. You even added a little heart next to it.

But no, Albedo was too busy coming to terms with the feelings he has for you. They weren't new. He's been aware of them for a week or so now, he just never gave it much thought until now. Now, with you so close to him, it was simply impossible to ignore.

And once you pull away, you smile at him and say, "There! Now I'm your soulmate too, right?" And oh.

Oh.

There was no way Albedo was going to let you leave Dragonspine now.

TARTAGLIA — feels a little bad for his soulmate, whoever they are. They can feel his pain, and he can feel theirs. So... they probably hate his guts, considering he's not the most careful person in the world. He pushes himself to his limits and beyond, and his soulmate has no doubt felt every single second of it.

Don't get him wrong, he would love to meet his soulmate. It's been a dream of his since he was a child, always eager to hear the story of how his mom and dad found out they were soulmates. Even as he grew older, the desire never went away. It was just... buried.

And his soulmate just so happened to be you, the significant other of a man who owed the Northland Bank a lot of money. He doesn't normally partake in debt collections, but he didn't have anything better to do so he decided to take this one on. He was going to use you as an example to your husband, though the moment his blade stabbed you, he froze.

He felt the pain. He stabbed you, and he could feel it. Oh fuck, he just stabbed his soulmate. That's definitely not the picturesque first meeting he was hoping for. Probably wouldn't be a good idea to tell his family this either...

Stabbing aside, he was utterly delighted. You, on the other hand, were terrified. Not only did this man just fucking stab you, his expression went from bored to something akin to crazed glee. He stared at you with a hunger that made you want to shy away from his gaze.

He doesn't care that you're already in a relationship with someone else. Not anymore, you're not. You're his, destined by the stars or however the story goes. And if your lover tries to get you back, he'll just kill them. Easy as that. Absolutely nothing will get in the way of him having you.

And he likes that you fight back against him. He especially loves it when you manage to escape. Hell, sometimes he'll even let you go just so he can chase you down again. It sends a thrill through him like no other when he catches you, and you stare at him teary-eyed and out of breath.

You're always so scared that he'll hurt you, but he would never do such a thing. He treats you like you're royalty, spoiling you with a seemingly endless amount of gifts. You're not quite sure how he knows what you like, and you're too hesitant to ask.

Honestly... he'd probably let you stab him. Y'know, he stabbed you, so it's only fair that you get to stab him in turn, right?

You think not. You're very hesitant, staring at him as though he were insane for even proposing such an idea. A part of him was disappointed. He wanted one of the many scars on his body to be from you. But a much larger part can't help but go soft at the sight of you shaking your head, sternly refusing to hurt him.

If he wasn't obsessed with you before, he certainly was now. You're too good. Too kind. He's holding you captive (lovingly, of course) and you refuse to hurt him? You don't even want to pinch him? How adorable.

Why, if he didn't know any better, he'd think that you might care about him.

He was nothing if not stubborn, of course. You might not care about him now, but you will in the future. He'll make sure of it.

After all, he's spent his whole life waiting for you.

AYATO — never had the time to think of his soulmate. He was blessed (or cursed, depending on who you ask) with the ability to see the red strings that tied people together. When he was younger, before having to take on the duties of the Kamisato name, he would always stare at the one tied to his pinkie.

He even has the habit of twirling the red string around his finger whenever he gets stressed. Only behind closed doors, of course. It would probably appear strange to others if they saw.

Meeting his soulmate was something he had always planned out in his head as a child, and when he finally did meet you, it was so... simple. There was nothing magical about it, you had just bumped into him one day when he was out in the city and that's what started all of this.

For you, it was a forgettable encounter, one that would never cross your mind again. For him, it was everything he had been waiting for. Thoma thought it was a bit strange, but he dutifully gathered information about you when Ayato asked it of him. He needed to know everything there was to know about you.

He already knew what he was going to do when he met his soulmate, the only thing left was to actually do it. And you were definitely shocked when Kamisato Ayato himself showed up at your home and asked you to marry him.

You said no, obviously, because why the hell would you agree to marry someone you didn't know? Ayato had planned for this, of course. That's why he had Thoma learn everything about you, so the moment you declined his offer, he just smiled and made a comment about your family. It was very obvious what he was implying.

And even if you aren't close with your family, you can't live with blood on your hands. You were pretty much forced into accepting Ayato's marriage proposal. He was pleased with this outcome, promising to take care of everything himself.

Marrying him meant that you would, unfortunately, have to leave your home and instead live at the Kamisato Estate. Everyone was under the impression that this marriage was one of love and not coercion. You highly doubt that anyone would believe you if you told them the truth, and you were too concerned about what the consequences would be if you did.

Everyone at the estate was nice to you, at least, though the only people allowed to actually get close to you were Ayaka and Thoma.

And when the wedding was over, it was time for your honeymoon. You were not excited about that, but it seemed Celestia itself was on your side during that time because he was too busy to spend time with you.

If he wasn't threatening the lives of your family, you would have made numerous escape attempts by now. Still, you've made it very clear that you hate his guts.

Your hatred is something he detests, though he can't fault you for it. He understands that what he's forced you into is wrong, but in his mind, it was something that had to be done. He's sure that given enough time and space, you'll grow to understand why he did what he did.

And even though you scorn his existence, Ayato looks at you as if you've placed the stars in the sky.

Your strings are forever tied together, so there's no getting out of this. He doesn't plan on ever letting you go. He'd be a terrible husband if he didn't keep you close, wouldn't he?

#yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere xiao x reader #yandere kaeya x reader #yandere kujou sara x reader #yandere albedo x reader #yandere tartaglia x reader #yandere childe x reader #yandere ayato x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x gn reader #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere xiao #yandere kaeya #yandere kujou sara #yandere albedo #yandere tartaglia #yandere childe #yandere ayato #yandere

[moneypowerglorymiddleofmiami]

Reader as Persephone's only daughter? And she doesn't get into relationships bc of her mother's past as she was kidnapped by Hades?? Like History repeats itself with Luke being so obsessed with her and the reader doesn't know that she'll just end up like her mother

hello, hello! this one is definitely long overdue. i've been very busy with uni, but this ask was very intriguing!!! thank you for sending, anon ♡ (bonus scene at the end lol)

Luke Castellan wasn’t immediately taken by her the first time she set foot on Camp Half-Blood, that much was certain. She was only a topic of interest because she was Persephone’s daughter, promised yet unexpected all the same. He was far too caught up with claiming his own hoard of kleos to entertain ideas of attraction; however, she became a friend soon enough.

“What are you growing?” He asked her during a spring afternoon years ago, so insignificant that a normal person would forget it entirely.

“I don’t know yet actually.” She responded with pursed lips. Her open palms lingered just above the brown earth, colorful beads dangled from her wrists.

Luke raised an eyebrow.

At his silence, she looked up then waved a packet in front of him. She smiled. “Secret stash from Persephone.”

“Now, I’m not really the boss or anything but I think I’ve been here long enough to know the rules.” He perched his forearm against the bark of a tree, leaning his weight against it. “I don’t think that’s allowed.”

“But you wouldn’t tell on me, would you?” She batted her eyelashes sweetly, jokingly. She turned back to her lump of land. “‘Sides, they're harmless… I think.”

He remained silent and observed as a sprout quickly rose from the depths of her plot. A number of curved leaves on top leaning stems dotted the once empty ground. She rose from her knees, dusting off pellets of grass that hitched onto her clothing.

“That's it?” He asked her, sounding very unimpressed. Was this the extent of her god-gifted abilities?

She narrowed her eyes at him as she stretched. “I don’t give a show for free, Castellan.”

“What do you want in exchange, then?” He asked curiously. He wanted to see— witness what Persephone’s little seedling was capable of flowering.

She thought for a moment then shrugged her shoulders. She walked away from him with a wave. “Grow something of your own then we negotiate the terms.”

A few weeks later, he proudly paraded a plant pot all around camp in search of her. Most of the younger kids looked at him a bit judgmentally when he held it up like he was Rafiki and the little thing was his Simba.

She emerged from the greenhouse after several vexingly loud knocks. She looked down at Luke’s outstretched arms, her lips twitching in amusement at the container filled with inch-long two-leaved sprouts.

“Strawberries?” She pursed her lips. She motioned to the fields of berries sprawling to the left of them. “A bit unoriginal considering…”

“Well, you didn’t tell me I wasn’t allowed to grow strawberries.” He reasoned.

“Touché.” She ceded. She placed a hand over the pot, the sprouts growing exponentially before she took it from Luke's hands. She spent a handful of minutes transferring them into the dirt.

Luke watched silently, interested and intrigued by the alacrity with which she moved.

“Can you look away for a sec?” She spoke suddenly. She turned towards him, all seriousness. “The glaring is pressuring them. They’re a bit self-conscious.”

“Oh.” He looked away immediately, distracting himself instead with the silvers of light that shone through the canopy of branches of a tree not far from him. He listened to her hum as she worked. He couldn't help but return his gaze to her once in a while.

“Done!” She proclaimed excitedly, pulling off her gardening gloves with a satisfied look on her face.

Three strawberry bushes stood before him, taking up residence in what was an empty patch of land mere seconds ago. His lips parted slightly in surprise— it definitely wasn’t uncommon for demi-gods to inherit some of their parents’ powers, but he was startled by how quickly it manifested, especially for botanokinesis.

“Impressed enough?” She crossed her arms with a grin.

“Just the right amount.” He responded casually, returning her smile. He bent down to pick a big ripe berry from the branches.

He bit into it, the juices trickling down his chin. “Sweet.”

He offered the other half to her. She looked down at it skeptically before Luke urged her with a slight little shake from the bundle of leaves at the fruit’s head. She took it into her own hold then lifted it up to her mouth.

𓇢𓆸𓏲𓇬𑁍

In her iteration of the story, Luke wasn’t merely a stand-in for Hades. He wasn’t simply her captor— he was also her pomegranate. His smiles, his looks, his words, his lies, his charm and his wit were all the seeds she foolishly consumed over the years. She yearned desperately for the tart sweetness he offered and unknowingly caused her own captivity.

Bound, bent and broken: this was the fate of Persephone’s only child.

In the darkness of the night, with the hum of Luke’s faint snoring keeping her senses alive despite the late hour, she wondered to herself briefly: was this how her mother felt?

She paused at the thought. Surely, it was a thousand times worse for her mother— a dread and pain so unfathomable that she couldn’t even begin to imagine it. Persephone was innocent; she was tricked and taken advantage of. She, however, was complicit: ignorant at first, but willing to succumb to Luke’s pleas and promises even if she knew the horrors of what he was attempting to do.

“Can’t sleep?” He whispered suddenly, jolting her out of her reverie. His hand moved to rest against her hip, his thumb stroking comforting circles onto her skin.

“Hm,” She hummed absent-mindedly. She turned around to face him, breathing in the scent of sea and sweat that lingered on him— a glaring reminder of what he was getting himself into.

Luke caged his arms around her then pressed a kiss against her temple. "Mine."

"Yours." She responded softly.

He returned to sleep in a matter of seconds, but he held her firmly against him. She couldn’t escape even if she wanted to. She didn’t even want to, anyway.

She closed her eyes. Luke’s presence was her prison, and she was insane enough to willingly stay shackled, albeit metaphorically, regardless of how horrific that sounded.

This was her underworld— her own dauntingly lovely elysium.

BONUS scene from my first draft that i didn't continue writing:

“Well, what’s her master plan then?” She asked. “Why kidnap me?”

“You’re Persephone’s daughter.” He shrugged his shoulders, as if that was enough explanation as to why the leader of a rebellion against the gods wanted to kidnap the spawn of the Goddess of Spring— really, what did he think she was gonna do for him? Grow daffodils and tulips to distract his enemies? It didn’t seem like horticulture proved useful on the battlefield.

“I am not going to grow potatoes and peas for her little revolt, Castellan.” She scoffed.

Of course she knew why she was being held captive. Pretending to be foolish and ignorant never hurt anybody, though. Let him think she was dumbed down enough to bend to his will.

“You’re basically Hades’ daughter.” He continued, essentially bypassing her reply. It was a bit rude, honestly, but the fact that he kidnapped her showed plenty about the state of Luke’s manners.

“Careful what you say, Lukey.” She would’ve wagged her fingers if her wrists weren’t so tightly bound together. “You might just insult another one of the gods.”

Her relationship with her stepfather was… civil yet glacial at best; definitely on brand for him, actually. On her annual winter-break visits to the Underworld, he’d just ignore her for the most part (very understandable, there wasn’t much in common between an eons-old powerful god and a nineteen year old, except the angst probably, but that was a very awkward topic to breach with a father figure). Most of the time, she assumed he just tolerated her because of her mother.

“With you on board, Hades is going to think twice before attacking,” He explained further. He began to pace in front of her. “Your presence might even dissuade him from attacking at all.”

Oh. Oh.

“Sweetheart,” She called him softly with a condescending coo in her tone. “Oh, sweetie. You’re delusional.”

#luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #pjo tv show #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo

[judebelle]

Gavi breaking up with the reader bc he needs space and stuff and she takes it really hard and it affects her a lot but he realizes he was wrong for it and gets her back. Just a lot of angst but fluff ending plssss. You are the bestttt

rekindled - p.g. x reader

authors note : thank you guys for the love on my recent posts, and for sending in requests. psa, the more requests i get, the more motivated i am and the more i post!

cw : just heart wrenching angst for the most part, but it gets fluffy dwww!!, swearing, sad :(

wc : 2.3k

pairing : pablo gavi x fem!reader

---

“i just don’t have the time for you anymore!”

his words truly devastated you, tearing apart the delicate threads of your heart. couldn’t he at least try? why was he just giving up?

“i don’t understand why we can’t just try to work it out, pablo! we could compromise, we can even make a schedule.. we could make it work!”

it seemed like only you were really trying, and he seemed eager to end this relationship. over what? a busy schedule? you felt useless, standing in his empty home, the echoes of your voices ringing in your ears. it was as if you were singlehandedly trying to stop a sinking ship from descending deep into the dark and bottomless blue.

“it’s not that easy, y/n! i have a lot on my plate! between football practices and matches, i barely have time for myself anymore. and then adding on this relationship, i need to make time for you as well! its too much. i know you wouldn't understand but-"

"i wouldn't understand? what is that supposed to mean? there are two people in this relationship. and it's not like i sit around all day and do nothing! i also have my own things to do! you make it seem like i am so high maintenance, like i'm too much for you to handle!"

you were growing increasingly angry as the argument progressed. how little did he think of you?

"you know that's not what i meant.."

you sniffled, "i dont think i know you at all anymore."

---

it had been a week since the break up.

you tried not to let it affect you too much, but his absence left a crater in your heart you were left too weak to fill.

the breakup casted a shadow over the once vibrant hues of your life. you found yourself dealing with the aftermath of shattered love. you were picking up the shattered pieces of your heart, the sharp glass cutting through the skin of your hands. you felt the pain during tearful nights when sleep also abandoned you, and in the empty spaces that once resonated with shared laughter.

the breakup left an indelible mark on you.

you didn't call anybody. you just sat at home. it was like pablo's words became your new reality, now you were truly sitting around all day and doing nothing.

you hadn't heard from him at all, thanking the universe knowing that if you did, it would be too much on your aching heart.

---

one month had passed.

you were finally feeling like yourself again. yes, you missed his warm embrace and touching words, but you learned to live without it.

you couldn't depend on someone to be the sole reason for your happiness. you still loved him, and you always will, but fuck did he cut deep.

---

pablo's pov

pablo found himself grappling with an unexpected wave of regret.

the relentless demands of his busy life had driven a wedge between the two of you, leaving him to confront the harsh reality of what he had lost.

pablo now spent the time he would've spent with you alone, in his home. he didn't hang out with friends. he didn't go out for dinner, just ordered food to his house. he felt lonely and bored without you.

how ironic.

the void left by your absence became easily recognizable to everyone around him, and he began to yearn for the warmth of your shared moments.

but pablo kept the painful truth of your breakup to himself, unable to utter the words aloud to anyone.

"hey bro, what's on your mind?"

he felt an arm drape across his shoulders, startling him from his thoughts.

pablo was at barcelona's training grounds, and didn't realize his slumped posture and absentminded features were noticeable to anyone but him.

pedro was walking next to him, his arm slung around the back of his neck.

"hola?? what's up with you?" pedro was insisting on finding out why his close friend was acting so strange.

"sorry, just tired.. didn't get much sleep last night." in all honesty, he hadn't. he spent most of his night lying awake, thinking of how badly he had messed up. his screen time was through the roof, scrolling through your feed and posts, reminiscing on what was once his, about the warm soul that would sleep next to him in this very bed.

"ai, don't lie now. you know i can see right through you. what's wrong, bro?" pedro wasn't giving up, pestering pablo on his silence.

pablo gulped and turned to his friend, "i.. i messed up bad bro, like really bad..".

he didn't elaborate further, unable to bring himself to come to terms with what he had done.

"uhh, that's cool and all, but it would be helpful if you explained, man. i can't help you if you dont tell m-"

"i broke up with y/n."

pablo shut his mouth after, the words leaving the bitter taste of regret in his mouth. he might've said that too loudly, causing some staff members and teammates to look his direction.

pedro didn't seem to believe it, raising his eyebrow at the boy.

"you what? wha... when?"

everyone who knew pablo knew that he was absolutely smitten with you. you were always on his mind, and he was quick to talk about you if he had the chance. it annoyed his friends sometimes, but it was cute how much he loved you.

the fact that he had broken up with you was appalling.

"around a month ago.." pablo confessed, his hands hidden behind his back like a guilty child. "i told her i was too busy to focus on our relationship, and i told her that i needed to focus on my career. it's honestly a load of bullshit. i think i was just stressed and took it out on her."

pedro's confusion was evident, his eyebrows drawn together.

"i don't understand, bro. your schedule was never an issue for you before. and why didn't you tell me? i could've, i don't know, been there for you!"

it was like pablo was being scolded, and he really did deserve it. he'd lost you because of his own stress and poor time management. you didn't deserve to suffer because of him.

"pablo, what were you thinking? i mean, i can't believe it! i would've never expected you to- okay, i'm sorry.." pedro stopped his lecturing upon seeing his friend growing increasingly upset. "my advice to you is to go apologize. and not just a quick 'sorry', but a good one. get her flowers, chocolate - i don't know, whatever chicks like. just go say sorry."

pablo looked up at his friend, hesitation on his features. "what if she doesn't take me back? w-what would i do then?" he stuttered. he was worried you would realize how big of an asshole he was, and how much he didn't deserve you.

"i mean, i wouldn't blame her," pedro smiled teasingly. "but i know y/n pretty well, she would understand." he laid a comforting hand on pablo's shoulder. "don't sweat it bro, it'll all be okay."

---

your pov

you were currently sprawled across your couch, stuffing popcorn in your mouth as you binged a show you had already seen a million times.

the bell rang.

that hadn't happened in a while. the unfamiliar sound rang in your head before you pulled yourself up from your comfortable position, walking to the door. you yanked the door open, popcorn still in your mouth.

you looked up to see the man you thought you'd never see again.

"..hola.." he whispered before sending you a soft smile. you froze in your spot. not knowing what to do as you weren't expecting this at all.

it was like you'd turned cold from shock. you acted before you thought, slamming the door on his face. you scrambled to fixed your hair and finish chewing your popcorn.

giving yourself a moment to breathe and think, you quickly opened the door again, worried he might leave. surprisingly, he was still standing there, waiting for you.

"can i come in?"

---

you let him in, of course. how could you not?

he walked in with a hunched back. his feet dragged against the floor wearily.

you told him to sit on the couch and wait as you grabbed two waters, one for him, and one for you.

the unexpected arrival of pablo, whom you thought had become a distant echo of the past, sent tremors through the newly rebuilt walls around your heart.

is there a possibility of rekindling what was once lost?

you finally dragged yourself out of the kitchen and back into the living room to where pablo was sitting with his legs shaking anxiously and his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. there were still popcorn crumbs on the couch, the halfway eaten bowl of it placed on the table across from the paused movie displayed on the tv.

oh, how you wish he warned you before showing up at your doorstep.

he turned his head to see you standing tensely in the doorframe. he smiled awkwardly as he scooted over to give you some space to sit far from him.

you sat down and placed the waters on the table in front of you. you took a deep breath before gulping hard. you eventually found the courage to croak out a few words.

"what happened, is everything alright?"

the air was thick, the unspoken history you shared lingering in the air. his eyes were red and cratered by bags. he tried to hide the lines on his face by putting on a decent outfit and gelling his hair back, but you saw right through his façade.

"i just.. wanted to apologize.."

your silence was his cue to continue speaking.

sitting in the soft glow of your living room, pablo took a deep breath before breaking the heavy silence.

"i need you to know how sorry i am for what i did, y/n. breaking up with you was the biggest mistake of my life, and i've spent every day regretting it. i miss you, not just the idea of you, but you - the way you laugh, the way you challenge me... i was foolish, and i can't keep living my life without you in it. i came here to make things right, to find a way for us to work through the challenges together. can we try again? can you forgive me?" His vulnerable pleas hung in the air while also knocking you down like heavy wind.

your gaze flickered with a mix of surprise as pablo's heartfelt words settled in the room. the weight of his apology hung between you, and for a moment, time seemed to stretch as you discerned the sincerity in his eyes.

you took a moment before responding, your voice a sorrowful blend of vulnerability and caution.

"pablo, you hurt me deeply when you walked away. i've spent nights replaying those moments, the day you left me, wondering if i meant as much to you as you say now...". The room held a fragile hope as your eyes locked.

in a desperate plea, pablo's words spilled forth with an intensity so raw it stung in the depths of your heart. his eyes reflected the sincerity of his emotions. "y/n, i can't imagine my life without you. every moment without you feels like a void i can't fill. i was foolish, and i let something so precious slip away." his voice wavered with a mix of regret and hope, showing the depth of his desire to rebuild what was lost.

"please, i'm begging you, give me another chance. i know i hurt you, and i'm willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. i've learned from my mistakes, and i'm not the same person who walked away. i love you, and i'm ready to fight for us. please, take me back."

you listened to pablo's heartfelt pleas carefully. after a thoughtful pause, you spoke with a calm and resolute tone,

"pablo, i appreciate your honesty and the effort you're putting into this. it's not easy to admit mistakes, and i can see the sincerity in your eyes. but i need some space to process everything. let's take things one step at a time."

pablo quietly absorbed your response. he nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the weight of his actions. "i understand, y/n," he said with a quiet sincerity,

"i know i hurt you, and i can't expect you to erase that pain overnight. i'm here, whenever you're ready." his words left a subtle sting on your heart. he raised up from the couch, before leaving with the same hunch of his back and drag of his steps that he entered with.

the sound of the door latching closed sent a stab through your heart. your eyes began to water as the painful image of him leaving stuck in your mind.

you were standing in the doorway, and felt a sudden surge of clarity and yearning. spontaneously, you threw the door open and rushed after him, the urgency to convey your changing feelings propelling you forward. "pablo!" you called out, running down the driveway, and as he turned in surprise, you closed the distance between you. without a word, you reached out, cupped his face in your hands, and pressed your lips to his. his hands wrapped around your waist as he dipped you forward slightly, embracing your warmth and forgiveness. your brows furrowed into the kiss as you felt the craters in your heart fill slowly.

the kiss was heavy, holding many unspoken emotions—forgiveness, longing, and the realization that sometimes, the heart finds its way back when the connection is too strong to resist.

in that moment, under the dim streetlights, things changed between you two, and it seemed as though the process of reconciliation was beginning to unfold.

#gavi #pablo gavi #gavi smut #pablo gavi smut #pablo gavi x reader #gavi x reader #pablo gavi smut x reader #pablo gavi angst x reader #pablo gavi angst #gavi angst x reader #gavi angst #pablo gavi fanfic #gavi fluff #pablo gavi fluff x reader #pablo gavi fluff #gavi smut x reader #gavi fluff x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #football x reader #football #neybelle #fem!reader #football smut #smut #angst #fluff #football fanfic #judebelle

[watchmegetobsessed]

BACK TOGETHER

A/N: okayyyy another little steve fic bc yall really loved my prev one!

PAIRING: Steve Harrington x Reader

WORD COUNT: 1.1k

WARNING: season 4 spoiler!!!

SUMMARY: You and Steve broke up not long ago, but watching over Max in the night brings the two of you back together.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

The gang is now stationed in the Wheelers’ basement once again. After what happened to Max in the cemetery you’re guarding her nonstop, there’s always someone watching her, checking that she is still listening to the music and hasn’t gone into trance again. It’s one in the morning and you’re the chosen one to keep an eye on her, but Steve has decided to join you. 

It’s been a bit weird, hanging out with Steve so much even though the two of you broke up just a few weeks ago. You haven’t spoken much, but the recent happenings with Vecna brought the old gang together so now you’re forced to be around each other again. The breakup happened after a stupid, but pretty intense fight you had, it started because you’ve had enough of Steve always hanging out with Robin and even though you know Robin is playing on a different team, it’s still pretty annoying when you can’t make plans with your boyfriend because he already has something going on with Robin. 

He accused you of being jealous for no reason and you told him he is a child and it ended with a screaming match and the two of you parted ways after breaking up. One year of relationship ended in such a ridiculous way, you almost kind of feel embarrassed. 

“You’re not hearing any clock dinging, right?” Steve asks, breaking the silence since everyone around you is asleep. 

“Wait, you don’t hear it?” you ask with a dead serious face and watch as his expression falls completely. “I’m just kidding,” you add quickly.

“It’s not funny, Y/N, not after what happened to Max!” he tells you off, but you still find it a bit comical. He should know you well enough to know you’d have already told them if Vecna was after you. 

“Sorry, just trying to stay awake,” you yawn, taking a glance at Max who is seemingly still perfectly fine.

“Go to sleep, I can take over your shift,” he offers.

“No need to play the hero, Steve.”

“I’m not… I’m just trying to be nice,” he rolls his eyes.

“We’re not together anymore, so you don’t have to go out of your way to be nice to me, though you didn’t quite do it before either.”

Your comment comes out a bit spicier than you intended, but you also think it’s true. It’s too late to act nice now, he should have cared about you when you expected it from him. 

“Y/N, maybe we should talk about that,” he sighs, running a hand through his ridiculously good hair. How does he look this good even in the middle of what feels like another apocalypse? 

“About what exactly? That we broke up or that you said I was jealous or that you spent more time with Robin than your own girlfriend?”

“God, I almost forgot how hot you are when you give me an attitude.”

“And you’re such a child,” you roll your eyes and attempt to get up from beside him, but he grabs your hand and pulls you back. 

“I’m sorry! Please, I want to apologize!”

“About wha–”

“Everything, Y/N,” he groans, already knowing what you wanted to ask. “You were right and I was an ass. I just always thought you would find someone better than me at college so I convinced myself you don’t need me and I didn’t want to need you either.”

His confession surprises you, he never told you he was having second guesses and you would have reacted differently if only he told you the truth.

“Steve, I’m staying in Hawkins instead of applying to schools out of state. I made this decision because of you. Do you think I would just drop you for some other guy?”

“I don’t know, I thought about that, yes,” he replies with a shrug, but it’s obvious he is struggling inside.

“You’re an idiot, Steve. That’s what you are,” you sigh. 

“Well, at least we agree about that. I really am an idiot, because I lost the best girl in town.”

Silence falls on you, it’s heavy and says a lot. You want to tell him you still love him, that you still want to be with him, but you want him to take this step, to tell you he wants to give your relationship another go. But you know it can take some time for Steve to figure out, to decode the signs you send him.

“What song would you play to bring me back?” you ask to keep the conversation going. His eyebrows rise as he looks at you with a tiny smile as he thinks about his answer.

“Something from Duran Duran, it’s your favorite, right?” he smirks as you gape at him.

“You ass, that’s your favorite!” Steve starts laughing and you can’t hold it back either as you smack him in the chest.

“Cyndi Lauper Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. You played it every morning last year when we drove to school,” he then says and it’s the correct answer, it’s definitely your favorite song at the moment. “Though I’m a bit hurt that your favorite song is not related to me,” he adds.

“But it is.”

“What?” he furrows his eyebrows at you.

“It was playing on the radio when you picked me up on our first date,” you tell him. “I took it as a sign.”

“That it was gonna be a good date?”

“That Steve Harrington is not as big of a douchebag people say him to be,” you tease him smirking. “And I was right. He is a pretty good guy. He just… gets lost sometimes, forgets that I love him a lot and I don’t want other men when I have him.”

He looks at you with those puppy eyes, his ridiculously curly eyelashes framing them perfectly and all your anger and disappointment is now gone. You just want your boyfriend back. Luckily, Steve reads the situation as well and he knows this is his chance to get you back.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I was a shitty boyfriend, but if you gave me another chance I would do everything to make you happy.”

“What took you so long?” you sigh with a soft smile before leaning in and pressing your lips against his. 

You missed his lips, his kisses, his touches, the way he cups your face when he deepens the kiss. For a moment you’re not in the Wheelers’ basement, but in a safe place somewhere far away from the madness in Hawkins.

“It’s so nice you two just got back together, but you’re supposed to be watching Max.”

Dustin’s voice snaps you out of your little bubble and pulling away from Steve you see him sitting up, his eyes puffy and barely open as he watches the two of you.

“Henderson, you just know exactly when to open your mouth, huh?” Steve sighs and the kid in question just smirks and shrugs before lying back down and Steve doesn’t hesitate before pulling you closer to continue from where you left it before Dustin’s interruption.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#steve harrington #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things spoiler #stranger things season 4 spoiler #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington one shot

[cloudyyoimiya]

yandere poe headcanons with a reader who knows how to knit and so they knitted Karl a little hat or something ( I badly want this for some odd reason)

this is so sweet?? i hope you don’t mind me throwing in a scenario bc this is absolutely adorable?? thank you for requesting!!

His Darling Knits Something for Karl; Edgar Allan Poe

Format: Headcanons and scenario

Possible warnings: dark content, unhealthy relationships, mentions of kidnapping

How you learned to knit could be the result of two things. One being that you already knew how to knit before Poe kidnapped you, and two being that you learned to knit because you had a lot of time to kill while being held captive.

When Poe found out that you were able to knit, he’d enable your little hobby. He’d make sure to buy you top quality yarn and sturdy needles, only wanting the best for you. In a way it was a kind gesture, but it never really helped you put your guard down around him.

Sometimes when he spent time with you, he’d just sit in silence as he’d watch you knit. He really liked watching your hands create something, even if it was something small.

Unknown to him though, in secret you would make small accessories for Karl. At first it only started off as a small little scarf because you were running out of a certain yarn you liked, but then it evolved into making him small hats and little sweaters.

More often than not Karl would sit on your lap as you knitted him something. Sometimes he’d get in the way, but you didn’t mind. He was almost like a very cuddly cat as you knitted him his accessories. Maybe he enjoyed feeling like a spoiled little model?

You would hide the things you made for Karl under a loose floorboard that was in the corner of a room that Poe rarely entered. For the longest time, that was your little secret between you and the raccoon.

But then Poe started to notice that your yarn supply slowly started to disappear. At first he thought it was because you had a large project that you were hiding, but he found out that wasn’t the case rather quickly. He then started to think that Karl would steal the yarn, but he knew that the raccoon wouldn’t do something like that.

Eventually he decided to walk in on you while you were alone. That way it wouldn’t allow you to hide whatever you’re doing, and you’d be forced to show him. Of course he felt bad doing this, but he was concerned and genuinely curious as to what you were up to.

When he did find out what you were up to, he couldn’t be more in awe. He thought that what you were doing for Karl was absolutely adorable! How could he not?

Maybe, just maybe, he’d put in small requests for Karl. He knows the raccoon better than anyone, so he’s sure that he knows what he wants.

Scenario

Humming a light tune, you finally tied off a loose end on the hat you were making. The color of the yarn you used was almost a navy blue, and it had some white accents as well. It was also rather small—no human could obviously wear it—but that wasn’t your intention for the hat anyways.

You looked down at the raccoon that was sitting on your lap, letting out small chitters as he watched you work your magic. Karl looked up at you with a content expression if that was even possible for a raccoon.

“Here. It’s all finished,” you said as you placed the hat on Karl’s head. “Do you like it?”

Karl let out a happy chitter as he somehow managed to adjust the hat on his head. You then smiled down at him and gently pulled his ears through the tiny holes you made sure to put in the hat. Once you did that, you let out an amused chuckle at how cute the raccoon was.

Recently the two of you had became close friends, and Karl had made sure that you weren’t lonely while left on your own devices. Part of you thought that it was because Karl was sent to spy on you by Poe, but the other part of you liked it because you wouldn’t be so alone anymore.

You continued to adjust his hat until you heard the door open. Immediately you jumped in your seat and shot your gaze towards who was in the door frame. Unsurprisingly, it was your captor—Poe. He stared at you for a few moments, then started to smile as he saw Karl in a small hat.

“Did you make that for him?” He asked quietly. He then sat down next to you on the couch and started to pet Karl. “He seems to like it. I didn’t know you made him things…”

You gulped, then started to speak in a shaky voice. “Well yeah… I get bored of making normal stuff so I decided to make him some accessories.”

“You made more?” Poe asked after he analyzed your choice of working. “May I see?”

You only nodded then lightly pushed Karl to your side. He let out a sad chitter, but then he jumped up onto Poe’s shoulders as per usual. You then got up from your seat and headed over to a floorboard that was hidden under some carpet.

“In here there’s more,” you said as you ripped up the floorboard. You then started to pull out a small box. “Take a look.”

Poe nodded then opened the box. Once he did, his grin started to grow even wider as he pulled out the little accessories you made for Karl. The expression on his face told you that you were able to relax—he wasn’t mad at you for making these things and hiding them from him.

“These are adorable,” Poe simply spoke as he continued to rummage through the box. “Where did you find the time to make all of these?”

You bit your tongue so you didn’t say something that you’d regret. “Y’know… I have a lot of free time now since I don’t have to work anymore.”

Poe nodded. “Oh my darling, these are so thoughtful of you to make! I love them so much!” He then paused and looked at you. “Why did you feel the need to hide these from me though?”

You bit your tongue once more, holding back another insulting response. “I didn’t know how you’d react, Poe— Edgar.”

“Oh dear… There’s no need to hide anything from me,” he said with a smile. “You can tell me anything.”

You internally rolled your eyes. You knew that some things you wanted to say were best kept in your mind, and you’d rather keep it that way.

“Alright, I understand.”

Poe then walked over towards you and gave you a small kiss on your forehead. “I’m glad… I love you.”

“I love you too,” you said, trying to not gag at your own words. You knew it was best to comply when he said those three words.

Poe stayed silent for a moment, then looked at the clothes you made for Karl. “Can you make him a small sweater? …Can you make me a sweater as well?”

You let out a small sigh. “Yes, of course.”

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd headcanons #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #edgar allen poe bsd #poe bsd #edgar allan poe bsd #bsd edgar allan poe #poe bungou stray dogs #bsd poe #poe x reader #edgar allan poe x reader #yandere #yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere bungo stray dogs x reader #yandere poe #yandere edgar allan poe

[literallyjusttoa]

My top 7 Apollo exes from Ancient Greece

DISCLAIMER: Though I have done a lot of research of mythology for this, it is based off of the riordanverse version of Apollo. I won't be acknowledging any awful implications in versions of these myths, not because I don't think they're important, but because it simply isn't a part of riordanverse Apollo's characterization in the books. Also I'm not going to mention Copollo. I love Copollo like the rest of you, but sadly that is a Rick Riordan exclusive, and also technically Commodus is an ex from Ancient Rome, not Ancient Greece :3

Ok with that out of the way lets talk obscure and non-obscure Apollo relationships

7. Apollo & Thyia

This one clocks in at number 7 because I love the idea behind it, but it is the most bare bones relationship myth wise. All we really know is Thyia is a priestess of Dionysus and she and Apollo maybe had a kid once. But like, the idea of Apollo dating his brother's priest? Hilarious, A+ stuff. Also, Thyia isn't just one of Dionysus' priests, she is THE priest of Dionysus. She runs his temple in central greece, is thought to have offered the first sacrifice to him, and might have been the first Maenad? Either way this relationship must have been insane. Also she's a nymph so she's definitely still kicking out there, would love for these two to meet again.

6. Apollo & Hyacinthus

Ok ok I know what y'all are thinking. Number 6?? This is like Apollo's number 1 most tragic relationship of all time!!! And yes as an angst lover I do enjoy the pain this relationship brings our boy, but I just feel like there's not many places to go with this relationship besides what we already have. Like Apollo and Hyacinthus were kind of the perfect couple. Which, like, great for them, but it doesn't give me much space to add anything? I guess, great ship, no notes.

5. Apollo & Hypermnestra (& Oikles)

Ok, half the reason this is here is because her name is Hypermnestra. Slay. But also this is a great place to bring up my favorite little headcanon. In a lot of Apollo's relationships, there will be a child, and myths will have different versions with different fathers. Some say it's Apollo, while other's say it's whoever he dated's husband. In this case, myths disagree on whether Amphiaraus was Apollo's son or the son of Hypermnestra's husband, king Oikles (Oikles??? I love these names). The implication here is infidelity, but I disagree. No, I think every time there's confusion over who parentage it's because Apollo was dating both the woman he's said to be with and her husband, and therefore no one knows who ended up, y'know, fathering the child. Anyways Apollo dated both Hypermnestra and Oikles and you can't convince me otherwise.

4. Apollo & Branchus

I like this relationship because in my mind, I always thought it was Apollo's first. In one version of their myth, it is said that Apollo met Branchus after leaving Delos as a dolphin, which I always thought implied this was soon after he established Delphi, which was really early on. Idk something about a young Apollo accidentally revealing his godliness to this boy he really likes is just so sweet to me. And he makes Branchus into a prophet, which is so cool! These two are cutie-patooties is what I'm saying.

3. Apollo & Kyparissos

C'mon, the man died of grief because his deer died. Throughout ToA we learn that deep down Apollo is a mushy ball of emotions and compassion, and that convinced me that these two spent 75% of their relationship crying over baby animals and pretty people. I love the idea of Apollo dating someone who's honestly just as much of a loser as he is. And while it is sad that Kyparissos is another lover Apollo had to turn into a plant, I have to emphasize again that he died of heartbreak, because his pet deer died.

2. Apollo & Cyrene

Listen, these two are boss bitches and you cannot convince me otherwise. In the same way I like Kyparissos bc I feel like he and Apollo are so similar, I like Cyrene bc I feel like, in a lot of ways, these two are very different. Like, don't get me wrong, Apollo can be strong and wild when he wants to be, but Cyrene wrestles lions. I like to think the time these two spent together really helped each of them grow in their own way, which makes for a really fun and interesting relationship. Also, just like Thyia, Cyrene is sometimes referred to as a nymph, so she could still be out there!

1. Apollo & Admetus

The more I think about these two, the more I love them. Admetus meeting Apollo at his lowest and helping him through it. Apollo falling head over heels as a result and doing everything in his power to repay the man. The two of them still holding such strong affection for each other even decades after the time they had together, to the point that Apollo would mess with fate to extend Admetus' life. Apollo's life is full of turmoil, and this period of it was probably the worst, but despite that, his relationship with Admetus seems so steady. The other gods are said to be embarrassed of Apollo's love of Admetus, and I think it's because Apollo loved him in a way that went directly against the values of the gods. Apollo and Admetus' relationship was defined by service and care, filled with selfless intent and genuine love. While many gods give their lovers gifts and special favors, the idea of actually going into servitude for someone you love is as ungodly as you can get. Apollo spent time with Admetus, and he wasn't possessive of him, helping him to find a wife after their time together was through. I think this relationship is a great example of how Apollo, even in his lowest moments, is a genuine and caring person, and how that often separates him from the rest of his family. Also these two are just cute and they both love cows and they're cows in love.

#trials of apollo #toa apollo #lester papadopoulos #sunny speaks #long post #this idea hit me out of nowhere and I had to do it #shut up sunny #lmk if I convinced yall to ship anything because some of these pairing have given me brainrot

[sunxstreaker]

i don't really get simpatico but i would love to understand it more bc its such a big part of transformers now. if you're willing, you can do that big post on simpatico here?? if you wanna??? i'd really appreciate the help 🥺👉👈

The thing with Simpatico is that i didn't exactly Get it at first too, most of my exposure was through fan content and reading the thing i was just Yeah it Makes Sense people ship this, but then it kind of bestowed on me more how these two people are just two parts fitting together perfectly in a way they wouldn't with others, and it's not even inherently Romantic to me, even if i see them as very much in love and conjunxed post MTMTE/LL story.

Their relationship is quite silly in the context at first. Brainstorm's profile calls him a conflicted Perceptor fanboy. The only thing we get, up to this point, is his Annoyance with how his genius is overshadowed by Perceptor. While Perceptor doesn't seem to give him his time of day at all, more concerned with his work and what Rodimus wants from him than what Brainstorm is up to.

It's honestly just my personal interpretation of either characters, but Perceptor is finally allowed to fullly get back to science again, he's not expected to be holding his sniper rifle (even though he was never expected to! He had himself believe that holding a weapon will make him of more value!), while Brainstorm is there with his own super secret super important agenda.

Brainstorm is, apparently, an MTO, while we don't know what for, but MTOs have a very sad track record and usually have a lot of baggage as they're usually "born" and then kicked into the heat of battle, barely having any chance to learn who they are, just what they're for. Yet Brainstorm has never killed anyone - and despite that, he's still LIED about being an MTO.

Here they're talking about the concept of Constructed Cold, but there were TWO waves of them - pre-war and post-war. What Brainstorm is talking about he was not even born to witness yet.

They're both people who, one way or the other, "defying" what they are. It's a common theme with tf ships for me, but in case with this, it's Perceptor believing that he has to be more, and at the point of MTMTE, perhaps, not feeling entirely whole, and Brainstorm WANTING to be someone He actually Wants to Be.

Brainstorm feels threatened when his intellect is belittled by people calling Perceptor the genius. Brainstorm is quite egotistical and selfish, but it all ends up being just a facade, just as much Perceptor's cold and perfect exterior he cultivated throughout years during the war, of someone he thought his side needed.

Up until Brainstorm's time travel shenanigans, we saw them interacting sometimes, and a lot of the time, it was Brainstorm trying to impress Perceptor somehow, or just being himself that draws attention of Percy nevertheless.

And then we see Percy smiling the most he's ever smiled throughout the comic, calling Brainstorm a genius himself, impressed by the intricate work of Brainstorm.

Perceptor gets up to clap for Brainstorm at his trial, and i think it's the moment that sold Perceptor for his respect to Brainstorm. Everything he ever knew about Brainstorm - the careless egotistical and cowardly scientist - turned out to be nothing but means to an end, making way to a dedicated, caring, kind and brilliant person into his mind.

I think their finale just says it all regarding these two, honestly.

"I always wanted recognition for what I am."

"Me too."

Brainstorm spent his life on science and to be recognized. He didn't hide the fact he's an MTO just because. He wants to be seen for his achievements. Perceptor's war trauma had him feel useless to his comrades, who's "purpose", who's Genius, was ultimately the thing people saw in him, brushing off his personal achievements, maybe even the fact he could be more, his person, the way he feels Brainstorm could understand, too.

They're simpatico for a reason, and its just one of them, but pretty crucial and at the very core of why they're so compatible.

While i understand simply thinking of them as "science duo" they're so so much more than that.

#deadlysoupy #ko tf posting #I'd get more into each of them individually but i spent almost three hours skimming through the comic for pages #the whole thing with brainstorm and thr reasons of his time travel #then perceptor being among the mutineers #perceptor with the wreckers #its all worth talking about. but not tonight #so i focused on their interactions here first and foremost

[its-your-mind]

Tbh I??? Really love these Bell’s Hells Company Retreat Activities???? Bc like. It’s not like any of them have been overly cagey this whole time, or actively hiding big secrets from each other. (someone at some point mentioned how BUCKwild it would have been to watch the M9 try to play What The Fuck Is Up With That within the first ten episodes of c2, with all the shit all of them were hiding and how much their early relationships were based on a mutual understanding that no one would expect each other to bring up the past unless it became a danger - the only one who ever poked that particular bear was Beau with Caleb at the start when she traded access to the Archive for the reason why Caleb gets fucked up by fire, and that private conversation shaped their relationship for the rest of the campaign BUT I digress.)

Nothing anyone confessed during the Honesty exercise was… a surprise. The only one who hadn’t shared the entirety of his past (that he remembered) was Chetney, and his was never the past that felt like a threat - that revelation was more along the lines of FCG’s type of “tell me about your family trauma so I can fix you” line of questioning.

The truths the Hells offered up to each other… they were significant (Fearne, I was disappointed in you for being afraid of your power), and scary (deep down, both Delilah and I kind of want the shard), and hard to say out loud (even on the nights I bunk up with one of you, I feel so lonely), but critically, so little of it was surprising. No one was sharing anything earth-shattering about their pasts or previously unknown plans for future betrayal.

And during the Communication exercise - none of them - Chetney, Imogen, Ashton, or Orym - doubted that their directors were leading them the wrong way. They listened, and paid attention to instructions, and didn’t try their own path because they felt like they knew better.

And then during Trust! The part that should have been the hardest!! All of them were obviously distrustful of each other, shooting around stressed looks, sending familiars to dive-bomb to check for flesh, but like… none of them actually turned on each other. None of them ganged up, or broke off, or stood in opposition - they were wary of each other, and they got the task done.

So… it didn’t really lead to any huge shifts in the dynamic. But that was never really what they needed! The Hells have trusted each other since the beginning, and even when they’re actively having to fight each other, it’s always with a desperation born from a place of concern. They really do care for and love each other. I don’t think any of them, if they sat down to think about it, truly believed that one of them was going to betray the others.

But they haven’t had time to sit and think about it. They have been actively fighting the literal end of the world since like… ep 45 (first irl Ludinus sighting/convo). The apocalypse happened. Has been happening. For thirty episodes now. They spent a good chunk of that time apart from each other, and then the rest of it desperately reaching out to anyone with more power than themselves to beg for their help.

So yeah! It’s not a big surprise that they’re all bottling up a lot of their own shit right now! There aren’t that many personal issues that feel like they deserve more attention than the literal end of the world.

It was inevitable something was going to give. And since Ashton’s shit was up next for dissection because they had a past that brushed up against the Primordials? Of course they were the one whose internal lockdown broke first. And of course when it did, it physically shattered Ashton, too, right along those same fault lines where Milo put them back together the first time. It’s so good that they had friends who were there, past and present, to make sure none of the pieces got lost. To put them back together.

We watched Laudna break down right after, specifically because she was back home, in this place where Delilah had first tortured and killed her, where she had lived as a wraith haunting a castle. Delilah had been slowly picking the lock on the cage the Hells had forced her into, and Ashton’s “betrayal” was the last tumbler Delilah needed to snap into place to break the lock in Laudna’s mind. And her mind shattered, fragmented in the same way it had been after she was first brought back as Delilah’s vessel. How beautiful that it was Laudna’s love of children and her desire to make Ashton a gift (meant to be part insult, “because you’re a child,” and declaration of her care for him, “I like children.”)

And Fearne… Fearne almost broke down after them. Slamming the hammer down next to Ashton’s head over and over and over, screaming at him, wandering away through the city, sleeping alone in the woods… She saw the cliff’s edge coming. That’s why she asked them if they could stop at her Nana’s first.

Because she needed it. And the rest of the Hells say, “Why? Do you think Nana Morri can help us in this?” And Fearne says, “Well, I don’t know, but…” And Imogen says, “Do you need it for you?” And Fearne says, in a small and shattered voice, “…yes.”

And that’s the end of the discussion.

They go home, to a place where they are safe and have time, for the first time since Ruidus was locked in place.

And so they have time to be Honest - and they are. Fearne likes to watch them all and play with their hair while they sleep. Orym has thought through how he would neutralize them if he absolutely had to. Ashton thinks it would be better for him to be dead than for Fearne to be hurt. Imogen is scared to face her mom. Laudna dreams of leaving this behind. FCG is jealous of the people around him with a heart, because they have possibilities he doesn’t. Chetney hasn’t settled down once in 400 years because he’s scared he’s cursed to drive away any family he has.

Behind all of this - I want to know everything about you. I need to make sure you don’t hurt each other. I would sacrifice myself to keep you from pain. I don’t want to choose between my blood and this family we’ve built. I want you all to be safe. I want you to pursue happiness. I don’t want to lose you.

And then, Communication - follow along this path. Listen to my voice. Keep calm, keep quiet. Stay the course. I will keep you safe. Keep walking, keep walking, and… you’re there, honey.

And finally, Trust. Two of them are going to be replaced by fae beings bent on preventing them from completing their mission, and they have to complete this task without letting the infiltrators stop them. Okay. Let’s all stick together. Keep eyes on each other. Wait for the doppelgängers to give themselves away somehow. Do you remember these small, banal details about our mutual history? There’s a possibility that action you took was malicious, but I know you well enough to know that might have been a mistake you made on your own. Here, I’ll walk into traps to show that I’m not going to stop you. I’ll get out of your way and take out the threats. I’ll be eyes in the sky and send my familiar to poke you to test if you feel like you should. But nothing you’re doing makes me see you as a real threat - just the possibility of one. I trust you. I trust in you. I trust myself to know enough about you to identify if you’re doing something differently than normal.

And the result of those exercises? No new information, but maybe some things that we all had lost track of amongst the chaos. I am not shocked by your Honesty. I know deep down that I can rely on your Communication. I do Trust you. I know you. I care for you. I know you care for me, too. Even when I have doubts, even when you fuck up, even when things break bad and you make the wrong call…

We are a team for a reason, and no matter what we said in the beginning, it is not just out of necessity or convenience. Are we a bunch of fucked up, broken people? Absolutely. Are we going to continue to fuck up? Probably. Does that change how we feel about each other? No. Never. As long as you’ll have me, I’ll be here, fighting alongside you. Helping you up when you stumble. Offering a shoulder when you need to cry. Standing over you to protect you if you fall. Laughing with you in good times, kicking ass for you in bad. This is our family, damn it. It is strange, and broken, but it is ours, and it is good.

#critical role #bells hells #c3e80 #cr3 #c3 #this got away from me a bit maybe??? but fuck!! I was feeling so many damn emotions this episode!!! this is obvs a v watsonian take #I also wanted to add the doyalist take that the players needed some role play that was like… thematically appropriate (shit be fucked) #but without world-altering stakes #it’s been a stressful time!! #I am glad that they were having fun with the dnd mini games matt made for them #but anyway the post got too fuckin long so there it is in the tags #fuck I love this story

[creamyavocadosoup]

𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞

a/n: lowercase intended! been in an anime binge lately and am currently watching horimiya. its great honestly, it makes me feel so mushy bc me when !! but also i can kinda relate. sorry this wasnt proofread! if there are any mistakes lmk ;-;

characters: rtte!hiccup x fem!reader

tags: kinda angsty, unrequited (?) pining, intimate touches and moment (nothing nsfw)

word count: 1.5k

if you missed it, here's part one: can i be her?

the road to recovery was slow, and the mending of hiccup and i's relationship even slower. although i had forgiven him, there was an undeniable shift in how i acted towards him, whether it was intentional or not.

i had felt guilty about it, of course, but i couldn't force myself to go back to the way things were and pretend nothing had happened. even more so when i could tell that hiccup and the other riders picked up on it too.

after that incident however, something else had also changed. as subtle as it was (or tried to be), hiccup had begun doing things out of his own volition. small things like the soil in my garden being damp when i wake up, my medicine cabinets tidied and arranged how i liked it after a nap, or even my hut being spick and span, a still-hot plate of food awaiting me on my bedside table when i wake up.

it was strange to be on the receiving end of such actions. i had gotten used to helping the riders more than i had received it in return. so having hiccup do so much for me just because, induced emotions in me that i'm still quite unsure in how to handle.

today was spent patching up the riders after a grueling training session and a few accidents (mostly snotlout) and we make conversation as they tell me the new things they've discovered when they went adventuring a few days ago.

my huge cut had - thankfully - been steadily healing, the riders taking turns in making sure i wasn't doing tasks i wasn't supposed to. a few weeks since the incident and i could finally start walking around my hut with much, much caution.

taking this opportune moment of reprieve, i'm currently sat at my front porch, admiring the view of the sea and horizon off in the distance. i sipped quietly on my drink while wrapped in a blanket, the birds chirping and soft swaying of the trees my only company.

...that is until strong gusts of wind caused by a familiar midnight black dragon landed on my front yard, along with his ever-familiar rider in tow.

"[name]! i come bearing new entries to my journal, along with snacks of course."

right. ever since my injury, hiccup had made it some sort of tradition to come and talk to me about things he discovered while out on adventures or simply reading up and researching on subjects he thinks would interest me.

he reasoned it as him hoping i wouldn't feel too lonely even though the other riders visiting routinely (which i soon figured out was coordinated by hiccup thanks to a slip of the tongue from tuffnut) had given me plenty of company since then.

hiccup took his seat beside me on the porch swing, making himself comfortable. offering the other half of my blanket and he takes it with a smile, scooting closer to me.

initially, i seemingly wasn't quite receptive of this tradition he had started; lack of responses, barely any indication that i was interested in whatever he was talking about. but the dragon rider hadn't exactly let it affect him whatsoever. he continued coming regularly, and talking enough for the both of us.

"hiccup." i spoke, softly and quite mellow, but it had stopped his rant completely as he turned to look at me.

i raised my head to look back at him, my eyes slowly dragging over his features. sweat beaded faintly across his brows as he also searched my face of any indication of emotion. he gulped, the action quite apparent, "yes?"

"are you doing all this because you feel guilty?" i questioned, my voice devoid of any accusatory tone, yet it made him flinch slightly in his seat. "if you are, then you shouldn't be, because i already forgive you."

he pursed his lips and brows furrowed as he continued to keep his eyes on me, clearly displeased despite my words. i felt a warmth slowly settle on my hand, looking down to find his hand grabbing onto mine.

my heart beat quickened, a soft yet steady heat creeping up onto my cheeks. for a moment, it had felt like we were suspended in time, the universe letting us have this moment that we've needed.

"even if you have forgiven me," he paused, his body turning to me and gripping my hand tighter, "i can't." he whispered, a soft tremble in his voice as i watched his eyes gloss over.

"i'm sorry. i'm so sorry." he almost weeps, his voice crackly and tears turning his eyes glossy. "i shouldn't have talked to you like that. been so - so caught up in my emotion that i just had zero regard for how you were feeling to how i was saying it." his voice shakes slightly, and my heart crumpled at the emotion.

gently setting aside my drink, i reached to hold his hands with both of mine, softly rubbing my thumb along the natural contours of the back of it. my throat felt tight, that same burning feeling in my eyes coming back, but i steeled myself and my voice to be able to say what i needed to.

"hiccup.. i understand, i really do." my voice had felt so fragile, like glass, about to break if more pressure is applied to it. "in the time i've spent by myself these past few weeks, i've come to a certain understanding and acceptance to the situation. and it's okay," i squeezed his hands, "i'm okay."

he subtly shakes his head no, one of his hands breaking free from mine and drifting to my wounded abdomen, past the hem and underneath my shirt. hiccup was quiet but his touch spoke more than his words tried to convey. my breath hitched at the action as he continued with his ministrations, yet his expression more spaced-out. i'm not sure what it was exactly, but i could tell he was heavily contemplating something in his head.

despite the gauze barrier, i could feel the heat of him emanating through it. it allowed that familiar warmth to bloom in my chest once again, the same warmth that only he seems to be the cause of. it had felt entirely too intimate to consider it as something friends do which only raised so many more questions and confusion in my head.

this wasn't normal for friends, right? is this something he normally does with the others?

i gulped down the lump in my throat, the thought of him doing the same thing to a certain blonde-haired viking setting an uncomfortable feeling in my gut.

before i could voice out any of my thoughts however, my eyes widened and cheeks warmed considerably once i felt his touch travel to my cheek. it was soft, almost feather-like, and comforting. his eyes glowed beautifully, the orange sunset reflecting onto his green eyes, effectively enchanting me with how beautiful it looked.

he kept his eyes on me, seemingly waiting on a sign on how i felt about the current predicament. seeing no protests from me, he continued on, now essentially cupping my face with both of his hands, his piercing eyes never leaving my face, flitting between my eyes and lips.

"hiccup..."

"hiccup!" a familiar voice cut through the silence and the trees, dispelling the intimate moment in an instant. i hurriedly moved away from his clutches, picking up my forgotten drink, as hiccup nervously fixes his hair and clothes.

astrid appears on the path in front of my hut, lax features and usual demeanor indicating that she didn't see whatever just happened between hiccup and i. "there you are. figured you would be here." she spoke, walking closer towards my porch.

hiccup laughed, notably a little more breathless than when he normally is, yet astrid doesn't bat an eye or pick up on it. admittedly, i spaced out as she rambled on, the scene before still playing over and over in my head.

hiccup's soft touches was still practically branded onto my skin, with how i could still feel the heat of his touch despite him being on the other side of the seat we were on. his actions had only made me more confused, swirling thoughts trying to reason why he did what he did yet none of them made sense.

what was that? was he...

i shook away the thoughts as i come back to consciousness back in time. "[name], i hope you don't mind that i'll be taking this guy with me for a little bit. i need his help on a few things regarding training." she spoke.

i nodded, plastering a small smile on my face but i turn to look at hiccup, silently torn on wanting him to go or letting him leave. his gaze was on me, searching my face but perhaps my features weren't translating my desire well, because he turns to astrid and smiles, "we can go, we were just finishing up anyways."

my heart cracks just a tiny bit, that same feeling that i felt a few weeks ago leaking through the cracks of my resolve little by little. but i force the smile back on my face, standing up to bring my drink back inside, the atmosphere now leaving a bad taste in my mouth.

they gather their things and leave side-by-side, and i also turn and huddle back into my hut, missing the longing look hiccup held to my disappearing figure.

DO NOT REPOST MY CONTENT ANYWHERE! i would love to hear any and all thoughts. mwah! have a great day!

quick access to my library.

#ˋ°•*⁀➷ books #ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ everything nice #hiccup x you #hiccuphaddock #httyd angst #httyd #hiccup x reader #finally this is out of my drafts #so sorry for the long wait ;-; #i've been very busy #mwa #hehe

[syrupgirl]

woah??? ur writing is legit so good??? may i please request a neteyam x human reader where the reader gets bullied a lot for being human and it’s just angsty fluff??? no rush at all, write if you want to!!

a/n: I feel so bad it took me so long to get to this💔tysm for ur compliments, darling. I hope you like it

i also wanna mention that none of this fic is not meant to hate on Neytiri in any way :’) personally i think she in completely justified in her feelings and hesitancies towards any and all humans. Reader is probably bummed out more bc they hold Neytiri in high regard and wanna be liked by her.

Transcend -Neteyam

The relationship you had with Neteyam made up part of who you were. Before your memory could serve you, nothing could seperate you from the eldest Sully child.

So close to the other that you felt like an extension of the other. You had your own notch that measured your height right next to his, you were there when he chose his Ilu, you were there when he completed his dream hunt, all of it. You had been by his side for all of it and the two of you wouldn’t have it either way.

But, no matter what, what you had with Neteyam would not change the relationships you had with other children for one specific reason, you were human. Of the same people who killed hundred upon thousands of Na’vi. No amount of friendship would change that.

And to some degree you had come to terms with that. You couldn’t change what you were so you focused on fighting for what you knew was right on the side of the people who taught you that in the first place.

You had come to terms with it, but there were days when those hushed words got to you.

Your morning had started off early, Neteyam shaking you awake shortly after eclipse had ended and snuck you out of the mountains, down into the ground. The two of you spent the morning running through shallow brooks and swinging off the highest branches of the trees. It made you feel like you were a child again, where you had done the exact same thing with the same boy until laughter left you breathless.

Now, you were back in the heart of the Hallelujah Mountains, each hauling your hunt in your shoulders.

“They’re back! They’re back!” You heard a little voice shout. Tuktirey.

Oh, how you loved that girl, you just wished you could wrap her up and carry her around with you always. Just days after her birth, you were obsessed with the baby; constantly asking Neytiri to hold her and look after her, taking her with you while you trekked with Neteyam through the forest floor.

The energy you poured over her was very much reciprocated, as Tuktuk loved you just as dearly. As soon as she learned to walk, she spent the days with you around toddling around after you and oh, it was just the sweetest thing.

“Little Tuktirey! Singing my praises as usual?”

The young one giggled in response and skipped over to you, her tail swishing behind her.

“No love for your brother, Tuk? You wound me!” Neteyam whined behind you. You laughed heartily when Tuktirey promptly ignored her big brother.

“What did you get today? Anything fancy?” She asked eagerly as she stood on her tiptoes, trying to peak at the carcass hauled.

With a huff, you and Neteyam dropped the bodies to the ground to be prepared.

“Nothing to fancy this time, sorry, Tuktuk.”

She pouted and wrapped her arms around your waist, smushing her face into your chest. You laughed again, placed your hands into her hair, and pinched her ears gently.

Tuk squealed and immediately ran away from you, probably to her other siblings. Probably Kiri.

“That is not fair, I’m her brother by blood, and she prefers you over me!” You rolled your eyes at Neteyam’s drama.

“Maybe if you were as cool as me, Neteyam, your sister would actually like you!” You sighed, putting on a fake high and mighty attitude.

“Hey- I am plenty cool!”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that, skxáwng.”

“By Eywa, why do I even keep you around at this point.”

You doubled over in laughter as Neteyam began to walk away, probably to alert his parents of his return.

Sighing contentedly, you wiped your eyes that had filled with happy tears from you uncontrollable giggles and unsheathed your knife to begin the processing of the meat.

“Can you teach me?” A little voice piped up beside you. Slightly startled, you glanced down and saw little Tuk had returned to your side, a hungry gleam in her eyes, a hunger to learn.

You tapped your chin in fake thought and scrunched up your face. “I don’t know…It might be a bit hard for you…”

“It won’t be hard! I’ve seen Lo’ak and Kiri do it heaps!” She sprung up and down on her toes. “Please? I’ll do whatever you say!”

“Okay, but you have to pay attention to everything I do, clear?”

“Yep!”

-

“-and then once you have wrapped the meat, you always make sure to return all the parts you won’t use back into Eywa.”

You were surprised Tuk has stuck around this long, listening to everything you had said with rabid attention just like she said she would.

It seemed like she was having a great time; trying her hardest to copy your actions to a T and not getting discouraged when they came out a little sloppy. She had been honest when she said she wanted to learn and you had this strange sense of pride that swelled in your chest.

“Tuk, where have you been?” The voice of Neytiri cut through your thoughts and you turned around to that direction.

Stalking towards you was a very frustrated looking Neytiri and you felt a lump of nerves settle in your chest.

The woman stopped behind her daughter and placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked defensive, like she was ready to fight or flee at a moment notice.

Neytiri didn’t even have to say any words, she just looked you up and down with widened eyes and puffs of air coming from her nose.

“Mama! Yn was showing me how to prepare the meat to be cooked and the…the skin to be…something-ed…” Oh dear, sweet Tuk. She was completely oblivious to the tension heavy stares that were being charged above her head and you wanted it to stay that way.

“Neytiri I apologise, I should have come to ask you first.“ You started and looked to your feet. Hoping that would show her that you didn’t want any trouble.

“You should have. You do not make decisions for my daughter.” She whispered before she gently took Tuk by the hand and walked away, supposedly back to their marui.

You felt a hot flush crawl up from your toes and all the way up to your face.

How embarrassed you felt in that moment. The last thing you had ever wanted to do was to overstep the boundaries made clear by Neytiri when it came to her children. You had no problems with them and understood why she had made them in the first place, but it didn’t make you feel any bit better about yourself when she reminded you that they were there and made to seperate you from her family.

A bit dazed, you crouched down next to one of the hides and hoisted it over your shoulder.

“Did you leave any for me?” Neteyam asked.

You jumped in fright, well you would have if you weren’t carrying such a heavy load in your shoulders.

Turning to him, you tried to release any tension you held in your face.

“I was going to, but Tuktuk wanted to learn so I used yours for that. Sorry.”

He smiled and bent down to pick up the reaming hide and came to stand next to you.

“That’s okay. It will stop her from pestering me to do it for her.”

You laughed a bit at that and the two of you started walking in the direction of the tanning tent.

“I saw that my mother spoke to you, what’d she say?” So he had seen that.

“She just came to get Tuk. Time escaped me, I didn’t realise how long it had been.” You reassured him. He hummed in response, believing your white lie.

Silence sat between you and Neteyam was the first to break it, “Do you think I will be able to convince Ni’awxtu to let me keep a whole skin?”

-

A refreshing shiver ran up your spine as you dropped your feet into the water, kicking them back and forth. The sun beamed though the foliage above, filtering into a bright green light.

Neteyam said he would be back in a minute, just going off to grab…something. Gosh, things just fell out of your head sometimes.

You shut your eyes and took a deep breath. If you concentrated hard enough, you could pretend that your face wasn’t shielded behind mask, that your exopack wasn’t weighing heavily on your back, that you could breath the Pandora air, fresh and unfiltered. Your brows furrow, and you try to bring yourself back to that peaceful place you were before. It always loomed in the back of your head.

It truly is a strange feeling to be brought up in a culture but still have such a clear divide. That divide isn’t a bad thing, but a thing nonetheless.

So caught up in your thoughts, you don’t hear the creeping of feet behind you, the squishing of leaves and breaking of branches.

You were suddenly, literally, yanked out of your own head and a hand reaches into your hair and pulls you back. Hard.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I hurt your precious little head? Can you still breath?” The words are far from genuine, delivered with an airy laugh to it. Clutching the back of your head, you turned around and looked up.

Behind you stood a few kids your age. Their faces were familiar but their names eluded you.

You steeled yourself. You weren’t afraid of these people. “What do you want from me?”

One of them snorts and hits his mate on the chest, encouraging her to laugh with him. She does and they share a snide chuckle. You narrowed your eyes at them and stood, still not matching their height but getting closer to it at least.

“Where is your guard, huh?” The girl asks as she stalks around you. She occasionally flicked and pulled at pieces of your clothing, including your exopack, which made your heart beat pick up more and more every time she brushed it.

“He is not my guard, I can protect myself.” You muttered.

“Even when you are so dependent on…this?”

In seconds, you felt your heart plummet to your toes.

Your exopack was suddenly ripped from your back and your mask along with it. On instinct you held the breath that was still left in your lungs, your shaking hands flew to your face. It was almost like you could feel as the blood drained from your cheeks and formed a tight ball of terror in your chest, heavy and terrifying.

The young na’vi laughed, guffawed really. As if you imminent suffocation was endlessly hilarious to them. The girl held your exopack in her hand. In her hands it looked worse for wear.

She gripped her stomach. “Not so high and mighty now?” She gasped between laughs.

“You can’t be that strong if you are so dependent on that machine to keep you alive, can you?” The boy laughed along with his friend.

Their words didn’t even make it to your brain. You entire focus was on the mask dangling uselessly in her hands. You looked up, locked eyes with the girl, and took a few steps forward.

Faster than you could blink, their laughter ceased and was replaced with their smirks again.

“Ah, ah, ah! You stay right there.” The girl tutted. “Or you won’t be getting this back anytime soon.”

Your eyes widened and your gestured to your chest and mouth. This ‘prank’ had gone too far and if you didn’t get that pack back fast- the thought just about bright tears to your eyes.

Ignoring their orders, you frantically rushed forward again and took a swing for the pack. You could feel the need to gasp for air rise; your time was running out.

“You stay in your place, tawtute” The boy snarled. He ducked behind you and looped his arms through the back of your elbows, holding you tight to his body.

You thrashed hard in his hold and clawed at any patch of skin you could reach but it was no use. He towered over you and easily trumped you in strength. At this point, you had as much hope as you did air in your lungs.

You could feel your chest burn and your heart pound. If you gave in and took a breath of the pandoran air, it would only end things faster.

By Eywa, this was such a pathetic way to die.

“Poor thing, do you want this back? Should I just give it to you?”

There was no point in answering, you just tried to plead as best as you could without words.

“Just breathe, man! C’mon just a little breath.” The boy behind you taunted.

They laughed and laughed and laughed. It bled into your ears.

Resigned to your fate, you stopped thrashing, closed your eyes, and let out the breath you had desperately been holding. And inhaled.

You probably looked like a fish out of water, gaping and gasping for a breath that wouldn’t come. The painful throb began in your temples racked up tenfold and the burning pain in your chest felt like an inferno. The teens behind you laughed and hollered and finally realised their grip on you.

Faintly, in the back of your mind, you heard the crack of your exopack hitting a rock nearby. Though, through your puffs and wheezes you could barely hair it anyway.

Your eyes fluttered and your jaw slackened. When did their jeers become so far away? And…had eclipse begun already? Delirious wonderings filled your head as your eyes rolled back into your head.

-

The first thing that returned to you was your hearing, and the first thing you heard was…begging? Albeit it was punctuated by a dreadful ringing.

It was like a whisper at first, almost like you had been plunged underwater. And whoever was on the surface was desperate to bring you back up again.

A hand slid behind your neck and lifted it slightly, slipping a strap over head. Something was pressed to your face and suddenly breathing came much easier.

As you came to you started gulping down the air and your eyes flitted open. Ah, so that was the source of the whisper-screams. You had completely forgotten about him. About Neteyam.

“-n? Yn?!” Since when were his hands on your face?

You had been rested on your back, head propped up against something hard and uncomfortable, and another exopack sat secured on your face. Confused, you brought a hand up and tapped the mask in question, not trusting your vocal chords.

Neteyam, however, looked far too frazzled to answer your questions plainly. He was sat beside you, knees in-line with your chest and his upper half leaning over you. The size difference between the two of you was apparent constantly but having him towered over you like this made you feel especially small.

“W-when I came back I couldn’t see you anywhere but then I saw your exopack on the ground,” He rambled. Concern creased his face and oh, how you wanted to smooth every wrinkle.

His rambles continued, “I ran into Norm on the w-way back and he said you forgot to grab your spare. So I grabbed it and you’re lucky I did!” You frowned; aren’t people supposed to be nice to you when you’ve hurt yourself? Why were you being scolded?

Neteyam must have noticed your pouty expressions because berating came to a halt.

“I was so worried about you…” His hand stroked your head and he frowned even harder. “What happened?”

As you recounted your story, you felt as tears welled up in your eyes once more. A dark shade settled in Neteyam’s eyes, his frown turned into a scowl.

You’re eased up against a stump of a tree and the boy takes your hand in both of hit firmly.

He looked into your eyes with a determination lit up in his.

“Yn, I swear to you that I will find who did this. They won’t go without punishment. I’ll have my dad see to it if I have to.” His fingers squeezed yours and your lips quirked despite yourself.

“I knew you would come and find me. Deep down, I knew you would.”

The resolute gleam in his eyes softened before he said, “I will always find you. No matter where you are, I will always get you back to me”.

a/n: I rushed the ending a lil but I just reallyyyy wanted this done 😍

The energy you poured over her was very much reciprocated, as Tuktuk loved you just as dearly

When she learned to walk, she spent the days with you around toddling around after you and oh, it was just the cutest thing.

“Little Tuktirey! Singing my praises as usual?”

The young one giggled in response and skipped over to you, her tail swishing behind her.

#avatar #avatar way of water #avatar fanfiction #avatar imagine #avatar 2 #neteyam #neteyam x reader #my mighty warrior <3 #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x you #neteyam imagine #neteyam sully #neteyam sully x reader

[amulet-or-not]

Ok so I watched rise of the titans and it was... An experience...

The things I loved/liked:

Children of the sun summoning the amulet sequence. It was pretty cool. But it's funny this is one of the things in this category since it was basically ripped straight out of the scene in 1x12. But I don't mind a little self plagiarism if it's satisfying

Toby actually being smart and having a part in the defeat of bellroc

Toby's last moments with Jim. Not to say I liked Toby dying that was fucking horrible but seeing Toby and Jim be close again was something that had been desperately absent for a few seasons. And the idea that Jim even after winning would sacrifice the entire world and take on the burden of going back into the past himself, just to save Toby is kinda sweet even if this movie didn't go in that direction. Cuz it just proves this boy would give up anything for his friends and that's one of his core qualities and why we all love him

The opening sequence on the subway. That was pretty excellent and raised the hype and allowed everyone an equal chance to shine

Aarrrgghh going batshit when Toby dies cuz mood

The taco truck with the little tune entering arcadia and all the government are like 'remove the barricades, let them through!!'

Jlaire was pretty cute in this movie, not the best it's ever been but y'know.

Douxie was pretty good throughout

The things I was ok/unsure about:

Ajas characterisation. I know a lot of people hated it in this movie but it wasn't the worst. She acted like a leader trying to protect two worlds of people, and that's entirely fair tbh. I didn't like how she doubted Jim but as she didn't know him that well especially as neither of them remember the events of d'aja vu it was kinda understandable. And I agreed that they did need a contingency evacuation plan

Krel. He was consistently good in this movie as usual but didn't get enough time to shine individually, same goes for blinky and aarrrgghh

Stricklake getting married was cute, however I didn't like how Barbara was used as a mouthpiece to mediate all of Jim's relationships with the older men in his life, i.e. when her and Jim talked it was either about strickler or James SR. and honestly that's just a disservice to Barbara's own character (and makes me realize that I doubt this movie passes the bechdel test)

The things I disliked:

Eli basically doing nothing all movie and being useless

Having Eli come back after a glow up for the sole purpose of having a moment where Steve is jealous and distrusting of his girlfriend. Actually no this can go in the hate category too ❤️

Jim saying 'i always wondered about dad' to his mom. The only reason this isn't in the hate category is bc it meant we actually spent time on the relationship between Jim and Barbara which is something that was sorely lacking in wizards tbh, and something that really made trollhunters shine. But what happened to 1x17's 'you know I don't care about my father'? Like what is this bfr

Toby being used as comic relief didn't bother me in this as much as in wizards cuz at least he got that important moment at the end but him saying 'moral support is the lamest superpower' what happened to the Toby that cherished supporting his friends and knew that his support was the greatest gift he could give to Jim and Claire just as their support was his greatest gift. Cuz that seemed like a key factor in earlier seasons imo. Also what happened to the Toby that started becoming confident in his abilities in earlier seasons of trollhunters?

The blatant Hollywood stereotyping. The kids kicking the football in Brazil and the fishermen in the South China sea, and then the bright neon lights of anywhere in east Asia at nighttime visual. It's not the worst but I'm tired tbh

The things that I absolutely fucking hated:

This shouldn't matter to me so much, but why when Jim went back into the past, did he wake up at 8.00 instead of 6.00? You could claim it was because it was cuz he was disoriented, but the time of his alarm should never have changed. If I remember that it said 6.00 on the alarm, and I haven't watched the first episode since probably 2018, the screenwriters should've too. It's just lazy. Or maybe it's symbolic of the fact that Jim only used to wake up at 6.00 to make his mom breakfast and all of them lunch, something which was a key part of his characterisation and clearly showed how much he cared for and loved the people around him - something which is very obviously no longer a part of his character since he allowed Steve to bully Eli and manipulated Toby into becoming the trollhunter. But idk. You choose

Nomura's characterisation?? First of all she just seemed ooc, like a stereotype version of herself for some reason. Secondly, her death. She died. In the sun. She's a changeling. The sloppiness of the writing team in keeping their facts straight is fucking astounding.

Stricklers death. Just for shock value and a play on emotions cuz it contributed nothing to the story. Same with nomuras. All it showed me is that the writing team were sitting around a table and someone goes 'you know we should kill off a few characters early on in the movie just to show this is a serious level threat'.

Pregnancy being used as a fucking joke. I wouldn't have necessarily minded the mpreg concept happening but the execution was just. Ugh. Steve being pregnant was treated as a joke and gross and just something to fill in time as comic relief, rather than what pregnancy actually is which is fucking hard work. It just seems like another extended misogyny-as-comic-relief trope again and Steve's character and everything was thrown down the drain

Toby Jim and Claire not having a group moment together. There was a scene somewhere in the movie where Claire was comforting Jim and I was wishing Toby was there too. If they're going to play the moral support joke with him at least have him be there when morals are at the lowest

Toby being stuck to the van. The treatment of his character in general throughout the last half of the franchise, he should've been given proper development as a character since trollhunters ended but fuck that I guess

Getting human Jim back was WASTED. Utterly wasted on this poor excuse for a movie. The peak of Jim's character arc was accepting himself in every form even when his humanity was stolen from him. The 'am I a hero without the amulet' in this and even the corruption storyline in wizards were both forced, particularly the former, as we'd already gone through that part of his arc in s2 (and it was one of the best arcs this franchise has produced frankly). It was really really apparent they couldn't think of anywhere to go with his character but still wanted to use him bc he remained the most popular. Fanfiction writers can and have done better. Fuck this movie

The lack of emotional maturity and depth between a lot of the characters honestly?? I really don't know how to explain this other than anytime this movie paused to have an emotional conversation or moment between two characters it seemed hollow and worthless because none of them were going through true important character arcs

I'm sure I have more things in this category but for now this is all I can think of. Might rb later with more if I can think of more things that really annoyed me :)) time to rewatch trollhunters s1 and remember how good this franchise used to be :))

#trollhunters #toa #tales of arcadia #jim lake jr #3 below #3below #wizards #trollhunters rise of the titans #rise of the titans #toby domzalski #claire nuñez #aja tarron #krel tarron #douxie casperan

[atruewarrior]

levi week, day 7: royal au

a/n: I’ve decided to stop where I did bc this will have a second part (maybe even third). also, I've done the bare minimum of research for this so, sorry if it’s inaccurate lmao

l.ackerman x f!reader ; 1.3k words ; ao3 link

As far back as you could remember, you had always known you would marry Levi Ackerman.

The match had been made before you'd even learned to say your names, and the first two decades of your lives were spent preparing you for the success of this alliance.

Throughout the years, special occasions had brought you together, but decorum had never allowed you more than a few, fleeting glances and the customary civilities. They hadn't been enough for either of you to form a proper opinion about the other, but on your end at least, you hadn't been repulsed. Quite the opposite, actually. His handsome looks were more than you could have asked for, and even from afar, his gracefully intimidating demeanor had you intrigued.

At around eighteen of age, the courtship had begun. You could still recall the nervousness that'd washed over you when your lady-in-waiting had presented you with his first letter. Your hands had trembled as you'd unfolded it, instantly falling in love with the crisp, cursive penmanship. It somehow embodied him to excellence. That he was scarce with words, however, had come as no surprise. You'd observed him enough to be given to understand as much—that he was reserved and might require some urging before he could loosen up. Something that could only be achieved in person. But even so, until your last correspondence, you'd kept your hopes up, as excited for the future of your relationship as ever.

The chaperoned meetings had also not taken anything away from your eagerness. A few formal sentences (mainly in answer to your questions) were all you'd been able to reap from Levi. But you'd attributed it to the company you'd had—your chaperones hadn't always been the most agreeable.

It wasn't till you'd been brought to the court, though, that you'd started noticing that your enthusiasm for this affair wasn't reciprocated. After your third meeting, at an Opera performance, you'd become certain of it. Levi wasn't looking forward to this marriage; he made no efforts to appeal to you or win you over (although you already liked him); he simply did not care.

It had stung, in that first moment you'd realized it. After all, you were to be bound to this man forever. And it just so happened to make for a more pleasant experience overall if there was more to it than just duty. You had seen it all around you: the difference that the presence of feelings made; the brightness it drew to the complexions of women and men. But the longer you'd let it simmer, as you'd mulled it over for weeks after, you had come to see that it wasn't really his detachment itself that bothered you so much. It was rather the reason behind it.

If he were indifferent now out of resentment over his fate, you wouldn't have been so anxious and would have remained optimistic. You had known many a couple who had started at such: lukewarm in the beginning only to get caught in the flames of love over time. But if he were uninterested because his heart already belonged to another... Then, that would be your end. You had also witnessed many such cases before; your parents were a prime example. And the possibility of your being trapped in a similar union made your skin crawl.

Our brains are inherently wired to think the worst, so naturally, the concern had only entrenched itself deeper and deeper into your psyche the longer time had passed. One of your closest friends had, after you'd confided in her, called it jealousy. But you had scoffed. To be jealous meant to be in love. And you weren't, at least, not yet. Or so you told yourself.

Either way, the quandary must've become apparent on your bearing as well because as you now sat by Levi's side in your garden's arbor, he felt compelled to strike up (he never initiated conversation):

"How have you been since I last saw you?"

"Impeccable." You didn't need to meet his gaze to feel it boring holes into the side of your face as you stared ahead, hands primly intertwined on your crossed knees.

He let out another sigh, carrying more exasperation this time, before abruptly rising to his feet. "Let us walk."

"I am comfortable here, thank you very much."

"I said, let's fucking walk."

Your eyes widened. "Do not take that tone with me!"

Grabbing your arm, Levi forced you to stand, steering you away from the party. Was it his touch, his unwavering authority, or something else that rendered you so lax—you couldn't tell. But it wasn't till you had set foot into a pathway leading to the lake that you found your voice again, "What if someone saw?"

"I do not care." With rapid steps you could barely keep up with in your dress and shoes, Levi didn't stop till you were out of sight and earshot. Heat had no more parts of you to ravage when he finally spun you to face him, using a tad more force than necessary, and stepped closer with a menacing glare. Your entire being was ablaze, and he didn't even give you a chance to catch your breath, directly hissing, "What is the matter?"

"What do you mean—"

"You know damn well what I mean. Why are you suddenly so distant?"

There was a flutter in your stomach as you sheepishly evaded his eyes. So, he noticed.

Before you could stammer some reply, Levi carried on, "Everyone has noticed that something has changed. And now the engagement has been postponed, and we have to do more of these suffocating tea parties and balls and bullshit."

An incredulous chuckle escaped before you could check yourself. Of course. "If you are done, I would like to go back."

Levi's hand promptly flew to your wrist. And though in direct contact with your skin this time, it did not have the same effect. He must've sensed your annoyance because he took a moment to search your expression before calmly saying, "I apologize. I shouldn't have lost my cool or spoken to you like that. But all of this is so frustrating. Things were going smoothly until you—"

"Until I have decided to match your level of interest," you interjected with more bite than intended, not missing the momentary surprise in his eyes.

"I am interested. We are getting married soon. Do you think this is child's play?"

"Of course not. But you have yet to show me that you are! All you do is sigh, and click your tongue, and mutter forced answers to my questions, and make me feel like I'm the most annoying person to be around!"

Confusion twisted his traits. "I did not—"

"You don't have to explain yourself. But I would appreciate it if these events were to keep going for a while longer before we got officially engaged. I want to enjoy my freedom some more before I get tied to a man who loves someone else for the rest of my life."

It wasn't till the words were out that you realized just how silly you sounded. Not only were you jealous, but also pathetic, appearing to be so out of touch with your reality, with everything you were and had been taught all along. This was a business transaction. It was advantageous to both of your families. There was nothing more to it. Those who had succeeded in turning such arrangements into more meaningful ones were exceptions to the rule. And you had been foolish to let yourself get carried away.

Though tears pricked your eyes and you wanted nothing more than to vanish, that sliver of hope of yours that never knew when to surrender kept you grounded as you awaited Levi's response. It did not come, and after long minutes, you excused yourself and headed back.

#it’s still the 26th in some parts of the world so hopefully it counts lol #also it’s 3am here and this is unedited #I’ll polish it later #writing: aot #my fics #leviweek2023 #levi ackerman #aot oneshots #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x you

[tapioca-puddingg]

Why GoWR Valhalla Is Important

Hey. It's me again. This time I'm not yelling about Kingdom Hearts or Drakengard, but I wanted to talk about God of War Ragnarök: Valhalla today and why I think it's important in trauma-centered narratives. This isn't a detailed analysis, just me spitballing.

SPOILER WARNING: There will be spoilers for God of War Ragnarök: Valhalla, so please proceed with caution!

EDITED: 2/26/24

As a brief summary, Kratos spent almost the entirety of GoW 2018 refusing to talk about his past. His guilt, shame, and trauma deeply affected his relationship with his son, to the point where he didn't want to be around Atreus bc he was terrified of being a bad influence on him. It was only when Atreus' life was in danger did it force him to finally admit just a sliver of the truth. Now I don't mean to say that Kratos revealing his godhood wasn't a big deal because it absolutely was, I'm just saying that it's just one piece of a MUCH bigger story. Anyway, he recognized his past mistakes, but the shame was too much for him to openly acknowledge it until damn near the end of the game.

Come Ragnarök, Kratos was pretty much an open book. He had grown SO much in those short years of fimbulwinter: He openly talked about his trauma to Mimir and Freya. He worked so hard to be a good father and a good support system to his friends. He went out of his way to make amends with Freya and restore their friendship. And he fought to restore peace to the Nine Realms.

But come Valhalla, Freya wants to recruit Kratos to be the new God of War of the nine realms, or at least to be a part of the new peacekeeping council that she's putting together. Kratos is extremely hesitant to take up the mantle. He doesn't feel worthy or deserving enough to hold this position given all that he's done. He and Mimir (and later on, Tyr) are constantly going back and forth about it. Both perspectives are completely valid. Valhalla is about Kratos facing his past in a more literal sense; parts of Greece have been manifested from Kratos' memories of it, so it's like he gets to be there in real time again. This is about helping him process what happened and to add some nuance to the conversation. It's like free therapy for Kratos.

It's funny too bc you have both opposing viewpoints being represented. On one hand, you have Mimir and Tyr being the supporting/validating voice, and Helios is the contrarian. Since he's a manifestation of Kratos' memories, he represents the doubts that Kratos has about himself. The harsh voice to show how hard he is on himself, and not without good reason.

The reason why I think Valhalla is so important is bc in media, survivor narratives are often linear. The character just "gets over" their trauma and then that trauma isn't addressed again. It's presented more as a hurdle than a lifelong battle. I guess this goes to show how misunderstood survivorhood is. But that isn't how healing works. We regress sometimes, and sometimes we still mull over the things that have happened to us. We might heal, but that trauma does leave emotional scars. So even after the many leaps and bounds Kratos has made, he's not "over" his past, far from it! It still haunts him every day and every night. Valhalla is Kratos still processing everything. From my own healing journey, I've learned that it takes a long, long time to fully process your trauma, if there even is a "fully", anyway. It takes a long time to learn and understand all the complexities and how it affects you in current day. And it takes even longer to process such a complicated history like Kratos'.

Generally speaking about the idea of processing trauma, I said earlier that survivorhood is extremely misunderstood by the masses. Imo, our society is very anti-victim/anti-survivor. So with that in mind, from the perspective of the audience, some might perceive the processing trauma bit as repetitive or "milking it". These are mediums of entertainment after all, so ofc I understand wanting to put out an engaging story where the audience doesn't lose interest. But screw those ppl lol. We have to understand why we do what we do if we want to do better, and it's amazing that a video game is willing to have these conversations. Being more open about all the nuances of processing trauma, grief, healing, etc will go such a long way.

Even the roguelite gameplay style perfectly reflects this theme. Processing this stuff is slow. It doesn't happen overnight. Unless you're in Valhalla, I suppose.

Okay I said this wasn't a detailed analysis but I lied. I'm a liar now

#god of war #god of war 2018 #god of war ragnarok #god of war ragnarok valhalla #valhalla #kratos #mimir #tyr #santa monica studios #the valkyries #sigrun #eir #gunnr #loved this dlc #not a fan of roguelite gameplay tho #the stakes are too high #but anything for more god of war content #this game is so well-written holy shit #these are all my opinions ofc don't take it as fact #santa monica writers really understood the assignment #they really get it #freya #god of war freya #healing #analysis

[reds-writings]

Hey!!! I wanted to start this out by saying that your writings for Rust has been nothing short of amazing ! There aren't enough fics out there for Rust, and yours have honestly been getting me through it.

Now, idk if this is the type of ask you were looking for, but with Old Man Rust, especially when he was in Alaska all that time- I've always wondered the details about his time out there (besides the obvious/what we already know). I mean- it's Rust we're talking about, and that poor tortured man...it couldn't have been great.

I know he spent most of his childhood up there alone with his father and such, but this time around? After everything happened? I've always assumed his self-isolation was probably at the highest it'd ever been, especially with how he talked about it.

Idk- I've always wanted to know his thoughts/feelings about so many different scenes/things within the show, but this is definitely one of the biggest ones. Even if you relate it to the jj universe- I think adding a partner adds layers to my curiosity on his experience/thoughts/feelings. I know when you answered that fluff prompt ask, them being away from each other for all that time was talked about; he still loves her very much, and is incredibly troubled about all of it.

Anyways! I feel like I've gotten a bit carried away, so I'll stop before I keep going 💀. You definitely don't need to feel obligated to respond or spend time on this, but know that your contribution to the true detective community on here is greatly appreciated 🥺.

Howdy! I love this ask!! The more detailed the more fun! And thank you so much for the love ahhh!!

(this will include some spoilers ahead for the JJ universe pls don't kill me lol)

I love the dissection of Rust's reasoning for returning to Alaska, of all places, after the big fight of 02. My fave idea being that he did it as a form of self-punishment for taking part in hurting his only companions in Louisiana. Applying these events to the JJ universe: the incident with Maggie will still be taking place sadly. But hear me out!!!!

In 02 with the resurgence of the Yellow King/Carcosa Rust easily found himself obsessively spiraling back into the Dora Lange case. With all the frustration and lack of support from the department (and Marty), he resorts back to nastier habits and ways of regarding those around him with JJ!Reader unfortunately being in the crossfire more often than not. It places a heavy strain on the relationship to the point where she reaches a breaking point bc tbh he is not being a very good partner at all (stress and frustration can only be an excuse for so long). They break up with her telling him to practically get it together if he wants them to ever continue but of course, shit just spirals more out of control with his hurt and anger so of course it reaches its crescendo with him having to quit then Maggie using their incredible emotional vulnerability to an advantage which he ends up regretting immediately of course because even if he's not currently with JJ!Reader it's no less of a pathetic form of betrayal.

When the fight goes down and he loses Marty it's one thing. Seeing the reader and the tie between them being severed completely with no one else but himself to blame is just about as close to dying as he'll get in that moment. He shit on her trust once and for all and took a friend from her in the process. He knows that there can be no forgiveness even if he were to beg with whatever last bit of reverence he had or sell his sorry soul.

Alaska is a bitterly lonely time for him and from tidbits he mentions in the show he didn't do much to change that loneliness while he was away. Circling back to before I think it was his way of extreme penance and if it weren't for another resurgence in the case he would've probably let himself die there alone with all the drinking/carelessness and wouldn't have had it in him to feel sorry about it if it happened.

Coming back to Louisiana things have changed plenty with Marty, Maggie, and the reader. I think the way he prioritizes his crumbled relationship with Marty (for both the case's sake and his) versus how he passively regards Maggie in the bar will forever be interesting to me. I feel like he'd be scared as hell to even come near the reader knowing she still harbors hatred and pain but Marty the Meddler drags her back in because he knows the two will never be able to truly stay away from each other. It takes a lot and the relationship may never be exactly what it once was but he'd selfishly rather have her near in some capacity than never at all once he's gotten a taste of her presence after so many years. I can't wait to write all that angst and yearning bc we love tension 🤭

Now that was a ramble omg! Hopefully, I didn't stray too off course!

#reds-writings #red speaks #rust cohle #true detective #rust cohle x reader #jj universe #anon ask #true detective season 1 #writer blog