#anyone have any ideas for what to call this magic university? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

egcdeath · 1 year

Text

cupid’s arrow

pairing: joel miller x reader

summary: you and joel have your first valentine’s day together. (part of the soccer parents alternate universe)

warnings: alternate universe: no apocalypse, established relationship, domesticity, so much fluff. be prepared to call your dentist.

word count: 7.5k

author’s note: happy extremely late valentine’s day!!! i tried to incorporate a little bit of all the requests i got for this fic, so special thank you to everyone who helped make this fic happen!!

technically the timelines don’t really line up from this fic and the l word (many i love you’s are uttered) but you know what. it’s valentine’s day. valentine’s day magic ✨

“So, what’s your Valentine’s Day plan this year?” Sarah asked on her otherwise quiet commute to school.

Joel drew his attention away from the road to glance at his daughter and smiled to himself, just the slightest bit. He always found it oddly endearing to see just how invested his and your daughter were into your relationship. At this point, it was no secret that Sarah and Chloe had worked hard to set you and him up a multitude of times, and Joel certainly wasn’t mad about it. If anything, he was grateful for your kids being nosy and sharp enough to know when to make a move when you and himself clearly could not.

“Well I want our first one to be a good one, so I booked a reservation at this really nice restaurant. Pretty expensive, pretty hard to get into, but she deserves the best,” Joel said with a deceptively nonchalant tone.

Joel couldn’t even lie—he was proud of himself. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had spent Valentine’s day with anyone other than his daughter, and he’d booked the reservation the moment that it was available. The restaurant really was notorious for being hard to get into on a non-holiday, let alone Valentine’s Day, so he was sure you would appreciate the subtle-yet-grand gesture.

“Dad,” Sarah began, her tone slightly apprehensive as if she were preparing to break bad news to him. “I know this is your first Valentine’s Day in forever, but a restaurant is just… it isn’t enough anymore.”

“What?” Joel asked, slightly taken aback. Given that he hadn’t had a serious relationship in some time, and was more than slightly insecure about his ability to be as good of a partner as you expected, hearing his daughter explain that a fancy dinner wasn’t enough in the modern dating scene was jarring at the least, and terrifying at the most.

“Don’t worry. You’re lucky that your daughter is full of ideas. We’re gonna give your woman a perfect Valentine’s day.”

At your daughter’s request, you were painting Chloe’s nails to match the upcoming holiday to the absolute best of your ability. You tried your best, but your hand-eye coordination wasn’t amazing, so the best of your ability ended up being a set of pink nails with one red finger–but your daughter was enjoying the process regardless.

“So mom,” Chloe began, fanning one hand as she attempted to speed up the process of drying her nails. “What’re you getting Joel for Valentine’s day?”

“I was thinking of taking him on a date to his favorite cafe. Something a little more relaxed,” you lightly dabbed some acetone where you’d gotten some polish on her skin.

“That’s sweet but… are you sure Joel wants that? I mean, you two always go there. It’s not particularly romantic.”

It wasn’t exactly shocking that you weren’t great with big romantic gestures. Nathan had been morally opposed to them, or too lazy for them, or something that ensured no one ever did anything romantic for you, and in return, you very rarely did anything romantic for him. Given that the last time you spent a Valentine’s Day (or anniversary… really any day that called for romance) with someone was with him, you weren’t even really sure where to start.

“Oh,” you thought aloud, trying to process the idea that small gestures wouldn’t really do justice to portray just how much you loved and appreciated your partner. “I guess you’re right.”

“Let me help you,” she insisted, excitedly grabbing onto your arm as her eyes lit up.

Well, it wasn’t like Chloe wasn’t good at these things. If it wasn’t for her and Sarah’s intervention, you and Joel never would’ve been together in the first place. It certainly wouldn’t kill you to let her help you out in this field.

“Okay, fine,” you agreed, playing up your reluctance.

“Yay!” she cheered. “This is gonna be so fun.”

You certainly hoped it would be.

On the morning of Valentine’s day, you were somewhat surprised when your alarm went off and you found Joel’s side of the bed to be both empty and cold.

Considering that your plan was to wake up early to leave a gift in the kitchen before Joel had the chance to get there, your Valentine’s Day plans weren’t off to the best start. You immediately rolled out of bed and suppressed the groan you wanted to let out at the sweet smell wafting up from the kitchen—both from anticipation of something delicious waiting for you, and the knowledge that your plan had been foiled.

After doing some rummaging through his closet, you managed to find the box of the coffee machine that you’d hidden, and hesitantly began your trek downstairs, knowing that your big reveal would be slightly less ideal. When you arrived in the kitchen, Joel was standing at the stove and diligently working on something. He glanced back at you, and a smile instantly formed on his lips at the sight of you—bed hair, old pajamas, and all.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” he greeted, setting his spatula down and coming over to give you a tight embrace. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you said right back, relaxing into his hug despite the large box in your hands slightly obstructing it. “What’re you doing?”

“It’s a surprise,” Joel stated plainly, stepping back to look at what you were holding. “What’s this?”

“Your gift. I know you love coffee more than you love any person who’s in this house right now, so it’s time for you to get rid of your archaic machine. This is a Nespresso. Very modern and very good, or so I’ve heard,” you extended your hands to offer the box, which he gladly accepted

Joel examined it, the smile on his face not even faltering for a moment. With all this smiling, you were sure his cheeks would hurt by the end of the day. “Thank you so much. I can’t wait to use this,” he set down the box on the counter then gave you a peck. “Now, go back upstairs so I can finish working on your surprise.”

“Mm, sounds good,” you hummed, still fighting sleepiness as you retreated back up the stairs.

Well, your gift reveal may not have gone exactly the way you wanted it to, but you were pleased to see that Joel was still happy with what you gave him. Chloe would be proud.

“What is this?” Sarah asked, looking down at her plate of oddly shaped pink pancakes.

It was clear that this was what Joel had gotten up early to work on—Valentine’s Day themed pancakes. Although there was clearly an attempt at making what you could only assume were hearts, the pancakes came out as blobs more than anything else.

“…Hearts?” Joel suggested, sounding very unsure of his answer as he sipped his cup of coffee (made by his brand new machine).

“Dad…” Sarah trailed off, pushing around parts of her pancake.

“Are you gonna eat them or not?” Joel retorted, obviously a little less than enthusiastic about the reaction to the pancakes he’d gotten up early to work on, and worked quite hard on.

“I’m not gonna say no to breakfast.”

“I tried my best. It’s harder than it looks, okay?”

“They’re cute,” you interrupted. “It’s the thought that counts. I love them,” you hummed. The least you could do was support Joel in his romantic endeavors. Sure, the pancakes didn’t look amazing, but it really was a sweet gesture. And maybe they didn’t look the best, but they certainly tasted good.

Sarah didn’t exactly look like she believed you, and she glanced skeptically at Chloe, who was quietly giggling at the oddly shaped amoebas on her plate.

“I’m not an artist,” Joel explained, almost apologetically as your kids picked at their pancakes.

“We can tell,” Chloe murmured, earning herself a glare from you and a giggle from her friend.

“I never asked you to be one,” you assured. “It’s abstract. And it’s good enough for me.”

Joel quickly pecked your lips, eliciting a collective ‘ew!’ from the table.

“Alright, that’s enough from you two. Finish up quickly so we can get you to school on time,” you instructed.

The girls reluctantly agreed and finished up their abstract plates without much more protest or teasing before grabbing their last few items and heading off to the car.

“Did you actually like it? You can be honest with me,” Joel asked as you finished off your mug of coffee.

“I was being honest! I really did love it. It’s sweet that you put so much effort into doing something nice for me. Waking up all early, being in the kitchen all morning… I bet doing pancake art is pretty difficult.”

“It is, and you’d never guess that it is. The batter kinda just runs all over the place,” he explained, grabbing your empty dish and dropping it off at the sink. You got out of your seat and followed him over to where he stood, attempting to assure him that you really did enjoy the thoughtfulness of his gesture.

“Well, I love that you tried so hard to make something nice for me to wake up to,” you took a step closer to Joel, giving him a brief little peck to show your appreciation. “And I love you.” you leaned in for one slightly longer kiss and Joel’s hands softly cupped your cheeks as the kiss deepened.

Joel finally pulled away, dropping his hands down from your cheeks to your hands so he could hold them. “As much as I’d like to kiss you all morning, we do have two kids waiting to be taken to school sitting in my backseat right now.”

“Unfortunately, you’re right,” you sighed. “Can we pick up where we left off when we get back?”

“Of course,” he agreed, beginning to lead you out the door.

Although your morning plans may have fallen through, your plan to pick up on your make-out session certainly did not, which was how you found yourselves waiting for the shower to warm up so you could hop in together and wash off the ever present scent of sweat and sex.

“It’s been too long since we last showered together,” you remarked, testing out the heat of the water with the palm of your hand before taking a step inside.

“It’s just that my shower is so small,” he explained, following you into the shower. “And we always end up thinking showering together is better than it actually is.”

“It is small, but I like being this close to you,” you countered, hugging him from behind. “We’re bonding. Don’t you like bonding with me?”

“I do, until one of us slips, and won’t stop talking about how they almost died for an entire day,” he set his hands on top of yours as you embraced him.

“That was once, Joel. One time!” you exclaimed, breaking away from your partner to reach for his shampoo.

“One time too many,” he responded.

Although ‘almost dying’ was a bit of an over-dramatization, it certainly wasn’t fun to fall in the shower. The day began as a slow Sunday morning at Joel’s place. Your daughter was at Nathan’s for the weekend, and Sarah had been at a sleepover with some friends. Given that the two of you had the house to yourselves, you certainly made the most of it before heading to the shower to clean yourselves up. Halfway through Joel assisting you in exfoliating your legs, you were met with the sound of a door opening and closing downstairs, making you practically leap out of your skin, and lose your balance, leading you to fall pretty hard. Joel helped you up and immediately began to take care of you, and granted you weren’t too badly injured, but you refused to let Joel forget the time you dramatically tripped in the shower because Sarah got home from her sleepover a little early.

“I can’t believe you’re treating me like this on Valentine’s Day,” you sighed, pouring some shampoo and reaching into his hair to massage his scalp. “We should probably break up.”

“I agree,” Joel practically sighed, relaxed from the way your fingers were working in his hair. “I think it’s for the best.”

“Okay, I’ll let the girls know when we get out of the shower. The parents that they worked so hard to set up are never going to see or speak to each other ever again,” you said the words very seriously, but the way you were massaging Joel’s scalp told a completely different story.

“Sounds like a plan,” Joel purred, letting you work your magic as you played with his hair. “You’re too good at this. Why don’t I let you do my hair more often?”

“Psht, you're preaching to the choir here,” you reached forward to rinse off your hands. “For the record, this is one of your Valentine’s gifts. Savor it while you can. Especially before we finalize our breakup.”

“I’m savoring,” he insisted.

You two took your time in the shower, truly enjoying an endeavor you didn’t often do with each other. By the time you finally stepped out, the water had dropped several degrees, and you were both becoming human prunes.

Just moments after Joel wrapped his towel around his hips, he had disappeared back into his room, leaving you peeking past the bathroom door to see what he was up to. It certainly wasn’t unheard of for one of you to get ready without the other, but you preferred to have his presence with you in that humid little bathroom.

Joel came back just a few moments later, slightly more dressed, and now wielding a flat, red box.

“I got you something,” he announced as he joined you at the sink, bashfully looking down at the item in his hands.

“Oh?” you said curiously, glancing at the box as Joel slowly opened it, revealing a thin, silver necklace with what looked like a small diamond attached to it.

“It’s a necklace,” he explained, beginning to lift the dainty accessory out of the box so that he could fully display it to you.

You were immediately taken aback by it, an involuntary, “It’s beautiful,” slipping from your lips.

“Can I put it on you?” Joel asked cautiously. You eagerly agreed, excited to have a little piece of Joel on you at all times. You turned around and lifted up the back of your hair so that he could gently wrap the necklace around your neck, and he fumbled a bit with the clasp until it was just right.

“I love it,” you expressed, observing it in the mirror and running a finger against the chain of the necklace as you fully took it in. “This is too nice.”

“Nothing is too nice for you, my love.”

“You are such a sap,” you laughed, leaning forward to get a good look at the accessory and fully admire its beauty.

“And you love that about me,” Joel punctuated his sentence with a kiss to your cheek, leading you to giggle like a schoolgirl.

“You’re right. I do. Thank you,” you said, still checking yourself out with your new piece of jewelry.

“Can I take you somewhere?” you asked, glancing over at your partner in the mirror as he reached for his toothbrush.

“Sure. Where?”

“It’s a surprise,” you said with a knowing smile.

“So, where are we going?” Joel asked as you drove, the sunglasses on your nose preventing him from getting a good read on you.

“What part of surprise do you not get?” you teased, glancing over at him with a smirk. “We’re almost there. Hold your horses.”

Eventually, you pulled up to a little strip of businesses, and grabbed Joel’s hand as you led him out of the car and through a door.

You two were instantly hit with the smell of fragranced oil and the sound of rain from a sound maker as you walked further into the dim location. It was clear to you that Joel was still more confused than anything else.

“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” Joel asked you in a whisper.

“Yes Joel, we are,” you laughed softly at his apprehension. To be fair, he didn’t have an idea of where he was or what you were making him do, but that didn’t make his nerves any less entertaining.

“And where exactly is that?” he followed up.

“We’re getting massages! C’mon,” you beckoned him to follow you up to a desk, where a bored-looking receptionist checked you in.

The two of you sat next to each other in the waiting room, waiting for your masseuses to prepare your room.

“What made you pick this?” Joel asked curiously.

“I dunno, you’re always telling me how sore you are after work. I thought maybe this would help your pain a little. It’s also very relaxing. You’re gonna love it and have a great time.”

There really weren’t too many problems you found that a nice massage at this salon couldn’t fix. When you found the time in your busy schedule to treat yourself to something nice and do a little self care, a deep tissue massage was always one of the first things you decided on doing. It was only a matter of time before you brought Joel along with you, and when you casually mentioned something about Joel to your masseuse, she did mention wanting to see him. Although, Chloe was the one to put the puzzle pieces together to you and suggest the couples’ massage.

“So you’ve done this before?” Joel questioned, still looking somewhere between a little cynical and a little trepidatious.

“Mhm,” you hummed, already imagining yourself getting every kink and bump in your back teased out.

“Walk me through it,” he suggested, seeming a little more comforted knowing that you had actually done this before.

“Well, we go in, they leave, and we strip down to our comfort level, then they just give us a nice deep tissue massage. It might feel a little uncomfortable at first, but it starts feeling pretty good pretty quickly.”

Joel’s expression circled back to slightly skeptical, his brow raised and eyes slightly squinted as he looked at you.

“Don’t make that face! You’re gonna love it. And I’m literally gonna be right next to you. When I called to book this, the receptionist said that the massage tables are so close together, we could hold hands the whole time if we wanted to.”

“Alright, fine. But if I hate it, I get to say that I told you so.”

“Okay, deal,” you agreed.

Your massage was going so well, you swore you were on a different planet. Sure, you didn’t have a very physically labor intensive job, but all the stress you'd accumulated over the last… however long always seemed to find itself stuck in your body. The massage was doing exactly what it needed to in terms of getting it out.

Joel groaned your name, his voice slightly distorted by his face being buried in the head pillow. “I take back everything I said.”

“I know,” you responded, far too gone to even really process what he was saying.

Walking out of that studio, you felt like a brand new person. Maybe that person was a little oily, but you felt like your body had gone under a complete transformation in just that hour.

“I can’t tell if I want to take a nap or run a marathon,” you exclaimed, stretching out your rejuvenated limbs.

“That was an amazing gift. Can we make this a V-Day tradition?” Joel asked, opening the car door for you.

“Hell yeah,” you agreed, getting into the passenger’s seat and breathing out a heavy sigh. “To think you thought you wouldn’t like it. Now I get to say I told you so.”

“Fair. I deserve it. That was life changing. I could marry you for thinking of that.”

Chloe actually thought of that, but Joel didn’t need to know that. For all you cared, he could keep thinking that you were the romantic genius.

“So what’s next on the agenda?”

“Just sit and wait. It’s a bit of a drive, so maybe you can get in that nap you wanted.”

You unsurprisingly slept like a rock after that massage. So much so, that you woke up to Joel softly saying your name and gently shaking your shoulder as he attempted to let you know that you’d arrived at your next destination.

When you opened your eyes, you were met with a an interesting looking building in front of you, one you’d seen in tourism handouts, but hadn’t yet visited for yourself—despite the many times you said you wanted to.

“Is this an art museum?” you asked aloud despite already knowing the answer.

Joel simply flashed you a toothy grin before popping out of the car, walking around it, and opening the door for you.

“I know you’ve been saying you want to come visit for a while,” he explained, slipping his hand into yours while you walked inside.

“I don’t know why I’m so surprised that you actually listen to me. Thank you,” you expressed.

You and Joel took your time walking around the museum, exploring the exhibits, reading the labels on pieces, and taking in all of the interesting and beautiful art. It was refreshing to come to a museum and not be rushed the whole time by an impatient daughter or disinterested spouse, and Joel expressing every now and then that despite being surrounded by so much beauty and artwork, you were the prettiest thing in the museum certainly enhanced your experience.

The two of you entered an exhibit that was obviously targeted towards children as you approached the end of the building, and your eyes immediately fell on a station that was clearly designed for kids to use. You walked towards it, and plopped down on one side of the tiny table before Joel sat down right across from you.

“Isn’t this for kids?” he asked you, his knees audibly creaking as he attempted to get comfortable on his tiny stool.

“Whatever. They’re all at school anyway. Or at least, they should be,” you grabbed a marker that was on your side of the divider, along with a piece of paper. “Wanna draw each other?”

“Haven’t we already established today that there’s not an artistic bone in my body?”

“C’mon, Joel,” you pleaded. “Please? As a Valentine’s Day gift?”

“Fine. Only because I love you. But you’re not allowed to laugh.”

“Swear,” you agreed despite knowing that it was more likely than not that you were going to laugh. While Joel reached for his own writing utensil and paper, you set your hand in front of the timer on the desk, giving you both five minutes to work on your portrait.

The man across from you focused deeply on his paper, looking pensively and seriously down at his paper and up at you every now and then rather than actually putting his marker to the paper.

After five minutes, the built-in alarm went off, and you both put your markers down, evaluating the work you had done.

“I don’t know if you want to see this. It’s really bad,” Joel confessed, awkwardly moving the paper out of your direct eyeline.

“It’s definitely not! Here, we’ll show each other at the same time. On the count of three?”

The two of you lifted your papers at the same time, and you involuntarily giggled when you looked at Joel’s. It was more or less an extremely basic stick figure with hearts around it. To be frank, your picture of Joel was basically the same.

“Hey, part of our agreement is that you wouldn’t laugh!” Joel said in between laughter of his own.

“Joel, you’re laughing too!” you giggled, the two of you progressively laughing harder until your stomachs were hurting. Eventually, you were able to catch your breath and collect yourself enough to get some actual words out. “Here, let’s swap. I wanna put this on my fridge.”

“Please don’t,” Joel gasped as he tried to catch his breath. “I don’t think I’ll ever live that down with our daughters.”

“Oh honey,” you responded, still fighting your fits of giggles. “That was the plan.”

After your museum date, you and Joel grabbed a quick lunch at a nearby cafe before heading back to the girls’ school to pick them up. You’d agreed to split up for the rest of the afternoon so that you had time to prepare for a nicer dinner in the evening.

It had been a long time since you’d dressed up like this. Although it was fun to get all dolled up, to put on a new matching set of lingerie under a new, formfitting dress, spend a good amount of time working on your makeup at your vanity, and take your time doing your hair, you couldn’t shake off the nervous feeling you were getting.

“Mom! Joel’s here!” Chloe yelled from your living room.

“You can let him in! I need to finish something up.”

You heard the familiar sound of conversation between Joel, Sarah, and Chloe while you finished up applying your lipstick, taking deep breaths as you did so. You just needed to see Joel, then you would feel better. To be quite honest, you were slightly intimidated by the restaurant he’d picked that night. Obviously you knew how exclusive and difficult to get in it was, but with how elite it was, part of you worried that you would stick out like a sore thumb.

But Joel had clearly worked so hard on making this night perfect for you, so you weren’t going to let a few nerves get you down. You grabbed your purse and headed downstairs, where your partner stood in your living room listening to your kids.

“Wow,” Joel said involuntarily when his eyes fell upon you. He immediately took a few steps towards you, setting a hand on your waist as he admired you.

“I don’t know why it always surprises me when I see how gross you guys are,” Chloe said, somewhere between a laugh and a cringe. “Okay, it’s time for you to get going. You don’t want to miss your reservation,” your daughter was practically pushing the two of you out the door, a little too enthusiastic to have the two of you gone. “Bye now!”

You finally were able to get a good look at Joel once you’d been shoved out of the door. He looked amazing in a well fitted suit, and a bouquet of red roses in hand.

“You look so handsome,” you gushed as you accepted his flowers. “How did I get so lucky?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same thing. I mean, you always look gorgeous, but you somehow found a way to look even more amazing.”

“Well thank you!” you giggled, letting Joel open the door to his car for you like the gentleman he was.

Joel sat down in the driver's seat, and began to head in the direction of the restaurant. Despite how late you were on the road, it seemed like traffic in the city was particularly bad. You and Joel kept up a light conversation, but the elephant in the room was clearly the traffic, and the fact that with every passing minute, the traffic only seemed to grow.

Your eyes flicked around in a cycle between the traffic ahead of you, your hot, but increasingly anxious date, and the clock on the dashboard. With just a few minutes until the time of your reservation, you finally piped up.

“Do you think we’re gonna make it on time?” you asked.

“I don’t know,” Joel answered quickly, his nerves quite obvious from the speed of his speech. He then followed it up with a slightly less agitated, “I hope so.”

“You know what? I’ll call and let them know we’re running late,” you suggested, reaching for your phone as if that would solve all issues.

That would make things better, right? You knew all that went into Joel getting this reservation, and you weren’t just gonna let it all slip away because of a little traffic.

You pressed your device to your ear and the phone rang once, then twice, then three times before you were informed by a robotic voice that the line was busy.

The scene of traffic didn’t seem to be getting any better either, with the cars in front of you essentially coming to a full stop every now and then. Time was quickly passing by, yet you weren’t making much progress distance-wise.

You called again to no avail, and attempted to maintain your composure. They would pick up soon enough, and you would get to your reservation on time, and you and Joel would have a lovely evening at that very fancy, exclusive restaurant.

Finally, someone on the other line picked up. You breathed out a sigh of relief as you were finally able to connect with an actual person, and attempt to explain your situation to them.

“We are aware of the car accident and the traffic jam it caused. However, regardless of external circumstances, our grace periods only last ten minutes. Unfortunately we’ve already given away your table to someone else on the waitlist. Our deepest and sincerest apologies.”

You looked over at Joel helplessly, disappointed to deliver the news about something he’d been so excited for for so long.

“Okay, thank you,” you said, quickly hanging up. “I’m sorry,” was the first thing you said to Joel. “They gave our table away.”

“You’re joking,” he said almost flatly, clearly in disbelief that something he’d worked so hard to plan for had slipped through his fingers so easily, and over circumstances that were completely out of his control.

“I’m sorry. We were later than their grace period. But it’s okay! We can just go somewhere else. I’ve heard about a few good restaurants nearby?”

“It’s Valentine’s day. They’re all gonna be fully booked,” he sighed, defeat clear in his tone. “Should I just turn around?”

“No! Right now I’m hungry enough that I’d eat your shoe if you put it in front of me with some silverware. Just… take me anywhere. Maybe somewhere you like? Preferably without a long line?”

Joel fell silent as he thought for a moment, trying to come up with a location that he enjoyed that wouldn’t be particularly busy that evening. As he pondered, a light bulb seemed to go off in his mind, leading him to turn his vehicle around and begin to take you elsewhere.

Your heels clicked against the pavement as Joel took your hand and led you towards a food truck. The smoky aromas hitting your nose were nothing short of heavenly, and if Joel believed that it was good, you were definitely taking his word for it.

“Is that… Joel, is that you?” the man in the window asked in disbelief as the two of you approached.

“It is,” he confirmed, a bit shyly.

“Damn, man! I almost didn’t recognize you all dressed up! What’s the-“ his eyes fell upon you, and his face lit up as he put the pieces together. “Who’s this?”

Joel introduced you by name, and wrapped an arm around you subconsciously. “We’re just celebrating Valentine’s Day.”

“Well you picked the right spot. Nice to meet you, sweetheart. I’m Louis.”

“Hi Louis. You know Joel?” you asked, curious about the camaraderie the pair seemed to have.

“I practically watched him grow up, so yeah, I guess so,” he flashed the two of you a smile, the look he gave Joel slightly more knowing than the soft one he offered you. “What’re we ordering tonight?”

Joel looked at you and shrugged, giving you the go-ahead for anything. It wasn’t like he wasn’t planning on spending a whole mortgage and kidney worth on food at the restaurant you had a reservation at.

You ordered a few different things from his menu, led more by your eyes and nose than your stomach. Louis nodded as you spoke before calling something out to the people working by the grill, and maintaining his position at the window so he could talk to you two.

“Why haven’t I met your friend before, Joel?” Louis asked, teasing in his voice.

“Well, obviously I was waiting for the most romantic day of the year to bring her here,” he looked away from his family friend and back to you. “You know, most people say that bringing your partner here is basically like having a ring in your hand and dropping to one knee.”

“Oh?” you laughed. “I’m flattered. Are you proposing to me?”

“No, not yet,” Joel shot a wink at you, and you felt a slight warmth rise to your cheeks. Of course, he was joking, but if he asked you in that moment to marry him, you’d probably say yes.

“Depending on how good this is, I may be proposing to you, Louis,” you teased, deflecting from the fantasy of marrying your partner.

“Hey! No need for that. Joel’ll bring you to one of my barbecues this summer. I promise you’ll eat so much of my food that you’ll never even want to even think about it again. Right, Joel?”

“Correct. Why do you think it’s been so long since I’ve visited you last?”

“Oh, excuses, excuses,” Louis dismissed, glancing back over his shoulder at the employee preparing your food. “Well lovebirds, since it’s Valentine’s Day, how’d you meet?” he questioned curiously, leaning further onto the ledge so he could get a good look at you and Joel.

“Our kids played soccer together on the same team, so we met through arguing like, all the time,” you laughed, glancing over at Joel who seemed just the slightest bit embarrassed at your frankness of your unconventional meet-cute.

“It sounds kinda bad when you put it like that. We were basically flirt-arguing,” Joel attempted to explain.

“Maybe you were. I was just arguing. But eventually our girls became friends, and we were forced to spend more time together, and I realized he’s not half bad,” you were downplaying just how much you adored the man standing next to you for a bit of comedic effect, but the quick look the two of you shared seemed to communicate everything it needed to for Louis.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” Joel said, cracking an adoring half-smile at you.

“That is too damn sweet,” Louis expressed as he looked between the two of you. He had to do a bit of reading in between the lines, but it was clear to him that the two of you were a rather happy pair, as evidenced by your comfortable body language and the fond teasing. He was clearly quite pleased to see Joel as happy as he was with you. “As much as I’d like to chat and hear more, your order is unfortunately ready. We’ll catch up another time?”

Louis turned around to grab your boxes, and leaned back over the ledge to pass them to Joel.

“Of course. If I don’t get back around sometime soon, we’ll definitely be at one of your barbecues this summer.”

“Good,” Louis nodded. “And before you head back home, stop back over here. I’ll make Sarah her favorite, and something for your daughter too!” he offered you both.

Louis’ barbecue was no joke. You and Joel absolutely demolished everything that was ordered as you laid in the bed of his truck, sat on the blankets Joel had packed for a previous picnic and had never seemed to put back.

“Why hadn’t you brought me here sooner?” you asked, sauce on the edges of your lips. “I feel like a brand new person after this.”

Joel reached over, dabbing at your mouth with a napkin to clean up what you missed. “I told you, this is like serious engagement food. If I brought you here too early on, I might’ve scared you off by moving too fast,” he jokingly explained as he set down the napkin and dragged himself a little closer to you.

You playfully rolled your eyes at the explanation, but leaned onto Joel regardless. “Yeah, whatever,” you muttered, setting your head on his shoulder and looking up at the night sky.

“Do you remember that night when you helped me out with making the team dinner?” Joel seemingly asked out of the blue, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“I do,” you nodded, glancing away from the sky and instead looking at Joel. “We’re a pretty great team.”

“We are,” Joel agreed, pausing for a moment. “Do you remember when I asked you out for the first time?”

“Of course I do.”

“I was so nervous. I really liked you a lot, but I wasn’t completely sure you’d say yes, and I didn’t want to ruin the friendship we’d been working on, or make things awkward for the girls. I just kept looking at the sky so I wouldn’t see you and think about all of those things,” he confessed, looking to the sky as he spoke.

“Are you nervous now?” you asked, noticing him watch the stars above you.

“No,” he assured you. “It’s just really beautiful out here tonight. Really clear.”

You leaned in closer, practically sitting on the lap of the man next to you at that point, “Do you see anything good up there?”

“Yeah,” Joel answered, his words blowing a few strands of hair as he spoke.

“Show me?” you asked, curiously peering up at the sky to attempt to see what Joel might’ve been seeing.

“Of course,” he agreed. “Well that right there is the big dipper. And the little dipper, too.”

“Where?” you asked, despite seeing it clearly. You had stargazed with Joel a handful of times, and he always did this cute thing when he saw something that you couldn’t see—grabbing your hand and leaning into you while he pointed out the stars with your own fingers, essentially cuddling you as he did so. His knowledge of what he was looking for, the competency in his actions, and the proximity he kept with you always drove you a little bit wild, and you’d be a fool to turn down an opportunity of getting that side of him out.

Joel took the bait, not even realizing that it was bait. He gently guided your arm to point out the constellation, speaking quietly next to your ear as he narrated what he was seeing. It was taking everything in you not to jump his bones then and there as he helped you see each set of stars.

After a period of pointing out constellations to each other, the two of you finally seemed to run out of observations to make, leaving you quietly sharing space on the blanket laid out in the bed of Joel’s truck.

“This has been my favorite Valentine’s day ever,” you expressed, gazing up at the stars with far less effort than you’d had previously. “I do love spending the day with you, but you really went out of your way to make today sweet. I appreciate it.”

“Hey, I can’t take all the credit. You are the one who arranged that absolutely life changing massage, and the Nespresso machine was great too. I will definitely be using it all the time now.”

“You know, it’s so weird. I used to hate Valentine’s day. Dread it every year because I just knew I’d be disappointed. But you changed that for me. Maybe it’s all the stuff we got to do, but I honestly think I’d be happy doing laundry or something with you today, as long as it meant I’d get to be with you.”

You were thoroughly exhausted after your day of Valentine’s activities, paired with the digestion you were going through after all of that dangerously delicious barbecue you and Joel had consumed. It was safe to say that the ride back to your place was a quiet one, only filled with the occasional uncomfortable grunt or a comment reminiscing on how good your dinner was.

By the time you opened your door, you were shocked to find your living room completely uprooted and transformed into a massive pillow fort. Your daughters, who conveniently were sitting inside of the fort, didn’t seem to notice you as you came in, as they were far too caught up in the Hallmark movie they were watching. Eventually, the sound of feet shuffling caught their attention, and the pair were out of the fort in record time.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” they both cheered, making jazz hands towards the fort.

“To commemorate your first date, we built you a new and improved pillow fort,” Sarah explained, as she continued to Vanna White their creation.

“This time, it’s big enough for all of us. You’ve had enough alone time today,” Chloe expressed. “Come, come! Are you ready for the tour?”

Your kids showed you the inside of the fort, and there honestly wasn’t much to see. However, it was still quite impressive that they’d managed to pull off putting together such a big fort in such a short period of time.

“But before we lay down, go change into pajamas. No one should be in a pillow fort in a suit. That’s just ridiculous,” Sarah remarked

“You heard the girl, go!” Chloe emphasized, herding you two upstairs without even giving you time to voice any sort of protest.

“You really went all out this year,” Joel gushed as he followed you into your bedroom.

Hearing him say that did make you feel a little guilty. Sure he didn’t need to know that Chloe had done most of the heavy lifting when it came to celebrating this holiday, but it felt wrong to keep things from him—even something as small as not coming up with original ideas.

“Joel, I have to tell you something,” you began hesitantly as he unzipped your dress.

“Oh no. Are you breaking up with me? Are you pregnant?” he glanced at you over your shoulder.

“No! And no, that’s just my food baby. It’s just that… basically everything I did for you today, Chloe helped me come up with. I was gonna get you a box of chocolates, show you this number,” you gestured at the lingerie revealed by your fallen dress, “then call it a day.”

“You wanna know the truth?” he asked before reaching into your dresser and tossing you a set of pajamas. “I needed Sarah’s help for almost everything today, too. Obviously it was a great day, but… I don’t need fancy things from you or huge romantic gestures, despite what our children might think. Your love alone is plenty.”

“Promise?” you asked, pulling on your pajama shirt.

“Swear.”

“Can we shake on doing a massage and getting barbecue next Valentine’s Day, nothing more and nothing less?”

“That sounds perfect,” Joel agreed, shaking your hand to drive in the point of your agreement. “Now let’s go check out that pillow fort.”

Chloe and Sarah snuggled against you as a new, cheesy rom-com played out on the television in front of you.

“So, how was your V-Day?” Chloe asked, looking between you and Joel mischievously. Obviously, the kids were curious about the fruits of their labor, and you genuinely could not blame them. With all the effort they’d put into making your day great, they deserved to know just how pleasant it was.

“It was amazing,” you confirmed, squeezing your daughter’s shoulder.

“We couldn’t have done it without you two,” Joel added, tossing a not-so-subtle wink at Sarah.

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” Sarah asked with a slightly uncomfortable laugh.

“It means that you two are hopeless romantics, and without your guys’ help, we would’ve had a painfully boring Valentine’s Day,” you explained.

“Can you blame us for wanting to help you two old farts out? You haven’t celebrated this holiday in like 200 years,” Chloe retorted.

“Nothing wrong with that,” you affirmed. “You guys are good eggs. Is it too late to ask you both to be my Valentine?”

“Yes,” Chloe deadpanned.

“Nope,” Sarah said, popping her ‘p’. “But only if you get us heart-shaped boxes of chocolate.”

“I think that can be arranged. Right, Joel?” you asked.

“Fine. I’ll pick up some discounted chocolates after work tomorrow,” Joel said it begrudgingly, but deep down you knew that his softie heart was bursting with love for your family.

“Thank you. Happy Valentine’s day, my lovely loves,” you expressed, pulling the girls next to you closer to emphasize your point.

“Ew, mom,” Chloe squealed, only egging you on to pepper her cheeks in kisses.

This had by far been your favorite Valentine’s Day, and it really wasn’t even close. When you were surrounded by your favorite people in the world, doing something ridiculously thoughtful and sentimental, there was no way you could ever ask for more.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal x reader

916 notes · View notes

butch-reidentified · 27 days

Text

fact: there is so much of the natural world we don't understand yet

many forms of women's spirituality is just... celebrating how cool that is. not believing in any fictional narrative. just celebrating nature and how much we have yet to understand.

that's why I take issue with the "it's just as fictional as Christianity etc" narrative. some forms, sure, but not any I'd ever be interested in.

it's just ignorance. your idea of witchcraft vs what I'm actually talking about. but you aren't taking the time to ask or listen. there's literally nothing "unscientific" about what I personally practice. it's just about my relationship to the scientific unknown.

edit to add some of what I just included in a different reblog:

fwiw, I still don't consider myself spiritual as (like I've repeatedly said) my witchcraft is, to me, artistic self-expression and is fundamentally about my personal connection to the universe, womanhood, nature, and, despite what certain women on here are insisting, to science. I've never been able to convince myself to believe in specific unseen/supernatural things like deities (learned this at a very young age trying to make myself believe in the Christian God, then tried with other gods, never believed in Santa even).

women engaging in scientific pursuits have historically so often been the ones labeled witches. new scientific creations have so often historically been called magic, witchcraft, heresy, etc., and those involved persecuted for it.

historically, women called witches have so often BEEN scientists, and that & the erasure of women throughout scientific history is exactly WHY using the term is so important to me, WHY I don't respect the patriarchally-derived dictionary definition* of "witch" or "witchcraft." I have a peer-reviewed neuroscience publication with my name on it, and that, to me, is part of my witchcraft. idc how anyone else feels about that but calling it antifeminist is absurd.

#i get that some people will never be able to understand that #but can you please just let us be about it?#the fact i never even said anything about “magic” but yall keep projecting about it anyway...#like its ok to not understand it!#bc it's fundamentally about you as an individual/your internal relationship to the world #my saying some of you will never understand that is NOT a dig at those ppl #it's just a neutral statement of fact #mine #witchcraft discourse #witchcraft #brujeria #women in science

146 notes · View notes

cuubism · 10 months

Note

I have been absolutely loving Bookstore Cryptid Dream! Offline life got rough for a bit there, but this little universe never failed to make my heart happy. Thank you - and I hope you're planning on more!

i've indeed had one in my drafts so i finished it up for you :)

Hob has been waiting with equal parts anticipation and trepidation to find out exactly what ideas Dream will pull from his romance novels. He still hasn't figured out why he picked romance novels as his manuals. Maybe he needs his sex positions to have narratives. Maybe he's into roleplay. God.

But Hob doesn't get to find out.

He's been busy for a few days--new term at the local uni starting up means the cafe's suddenly gotten busier--and while Dream's popped in and out a few times, they haven't had the chance to spend much time together. It's probably good, Hob tries to convince himself. Puts the brakes on things, just a little.

But when he finally gets a break, hands the reins over to his staff for an evening, he heads to The Library. Even if Dream is busy with his own tasks, Hob's content to just sit in his space. Listen to his stories. It's not something the busy cafe environment usually allows, but The Library is like an alternate world, cool, quiet, and timeless.

Hob strides up the steps and opens The Library door.

And there's nothing inside.

It takes several moments for his tired brain to comprehend what he's looking at, and several more for him to decide that no, he's not dreaming. He steps through the doorway into a dim, empty room, old wood-paneled walls and dust gathering in the corners, and no infinite winding paths of shelves like in Dream's bookshop. Just a shell.

Hob presses his palm to the wall. It's cool, and smooth, and very much real. Not some mad hallucination of his, this empty room.

Blinking hard, Hob steps back outside, closes the door again, as if that might change things. Opens it again. Same room. Does it again. Same room. He calls out into the empty bowels of the once-Library: "Dream!"

No answer, of course.

Hob had known that The Library had a sort of magic to it. But just vanishing into thin air...

And Dream wouldn't...

...would he?

Hob spins in place on the stoop, looking out on the darkened street which suddenly feels so much more eerie. He steps down to the road in a daze, looking around as if The Library might suddenly appear in another doorway. Resists the urge to yell Dream's name into the darkness.

And then, well, fuck it. "Dream!" he calls. All that echoes back to him is his own voice.

Hob sits down on the stoop, defeated. If he hadn't seen Dream just yesterday, kissed him on his way out of the cafe not twenty-four hours ago, he really might have started to think he'd hallucinated all of this. Invented someone he'd wanted to know.

But he didn't invent Dream, he swears he didn't--so then where is he?

Hob doesn't sleep much that night. He doesn't do much of anything else, either--it's not like Dream left a note to track him down, or any evidence of his existence. It's not like Hob can put up missing person posters: have you seen this bookshop? Or force it to reappear.

He's having a very sleep-deprived, very over-caffeinated morning shift in the cafe, contemplating how long one's not-quite-human not-quite-boyfriend needs to be not-quite-missing before it's reasonable to start finding out which parts of London harbor demons and sorcerers--when a man he's never seen before stops at the counter, hands folded before him, and says, "Excuse me, but do you know if there's a bookshop around here?"

Hob has never seen anyone else ever go into The Library or even acknowledge its existence, and Hob's anxiety is so high that he almost leaps over the counter to grab this man by the collar and demand, what do you know about Dream?! Fortunately he belays that impulse. This stranger really does look almost laughably harmless and definitely not like a demon or sorcerer, not that Hob's seen one--and getting arrested for assault is not going to help anything.

"I tried the door," continues the stranger, as Hob just keeps staring at him, conflicted, "only, well. It seems to have vanished."

Well, at least Hob's not hallucinating. Not that a disappearing bookstore is helpful to his sanity.

After what was surely a conspicuously long silence, though his visitor just waits patiently, Hob says, "Have... you been there before?" He feels weirdly defensive of The Library, even if it's currently AWOL. He doesn't know if he wants random people to be able to find Dream.

Or maybe that's just jealousy.

"Oh, no, this is my first time coming this way," says the man, apologetically. "I'm just looking for a certain book."

Damn odd timing for it.

Hob comes out from behind the counter and waves him over to a table. He should probably get some tea. Proper hospitality and all. But he's too worked up and way too sleep-deprived.

His guest sits down primly at the table as Hob slouches against the back of his own seat. "Sorry," Hob finally says, "if I'm--" he waves a vague hand. "Dream's had trouble before, that's all." He holds out his hand to his guest. "Hob."

The man shakes his hand. "Hm. A pleasure. I am Aziraphale. To any associate of--" he tastes the name, "Dream's, that is."

It's interesting that The Library's reputation carries further than knowledge of Dream himself, despite how deeply Dream seems to be tied to the shop.

"Is it meant to be there, then?" asks Aziraphale hopefully. "I wouldn't blame him for moving around to protect the collection; I certainly wouldn't want all and sundry picking through the shelves!" He shudders. "Though I was hoping to find that book."

Hob doesn't bother asking what book. Whatever it is, Dream will certainly have it. What's more important is--

"'Moving around?' Do you know how?" And then, realizing if he wants a chance at info he's going to need to offer some of his own, adds, "You just missed him, it's only today that The Library's been... gone."

"Oh, dear," says Aziraphale, now looking troubled.

"Not sure what pointed you towards this place, but if you've heard anything..." Hob continues, "Dream is my--" what is Dream, anyway? They haven't established it, "...friend."

Looking contemplative, Aziraphale says, "Well it is odd timing, now that you mention it, because--"

That's when the door to The Library flies open.

A lanky man comes hurtling down the steps, limbs akimbo, yelling something over his shoulder that Hob can't hear from within the cafe. "Oh dear," says Aziraphale again, with a mix of concern and consternation. "Crowley!"

Dream storms out of the doorway next, expression thunderous, his hair sticking up in all directions like he'd been struck by lightning. That has Hob lurching to his feet, which Aziraphale does as well, and they both rush outside, just in time to hear--

"Look, it's just one silly book, okay?" The unfamiliar man--Crowley, presumably--says, stopping in the middle of the road and turning towards Dream. "Don't overreact."

Dream is, in fact, clutching a singular heavy book, and looks like he's just about to hurl it, except that Dream would never do something so undignified as that, Hob thinks.

Dream hurls the book at Crowley.

Or not.

Crowley catches it against his chest, stumbling back with the weight. "I do not accept," spits Dream, each word the strike of a nail, "surreptitious rummaging in my library."

"Oh come on," says Crowley, tossing the book to Aziraphale, who's just caught up to him and who catches it with a surprised little umph! sound. Crowley makes a shooing sort of go on, run gesture to Aziraphale, which he doesn't heed. "It's not like I was going to burn the place down. You're just prejudiced against demons."

"I am prejudiced against thieves," hisses Dream. Hob finally reaches his side before he can throw another book or something, lays a hand on Dream's arm. Though all he's really thinking is, demons?!

"Crowley," Aziraphale admonishes. "Please tell me you did not." He finally looks at the cover of the book, and gasps. "Crowley."

Crowley shrugs. "You wanted it, he had it."

Hob frowns, confused. "You don't need to steal from The Library. It's not a museum. Just go in and buy it." Not that Hob's ever actually paid for any of Dream's books.

Both Crowley and Aziraphale turn to him. "One could not simply give away such an artifact," says Aziraphale, caressing the book's leatherbound cover.

"Least not for a steep price," says Crowley, which evidently justifies his trying to swipe it. "I won't be beholden to the likes of you." He points at Dream.

Dream looks affronted. "Now who is prejudiced?"

"Let's back up," Hob says, unsure how he became the voice of reason here. He still has a hand wrapped around Dream's arm, it's grounding after the way Dream had just vanished on him. "What happened? Dream-- I tried to come over and you were just gone." The empty room past The Library doorway is going to continue to be nightmare fuel.

Dream makes an apologetic little sound. "I apologize. I closed all access to The Library for its protection. As it turned out, my assessment of the threat was overstated." He glares at Crowley and adds, darkly, "I thought you were from the school board. Breaking in in the dead of night like so."

Hob momentarily gets stuck on the fact that Dream considers the local school board a greater threat than an actual demon from hell.

"Which," Dream continues, "was utterly unnecessary. You could have simply come to The Library as a visitor and sought out what you were looking for. It would have been granted."

"Oh, so I was just supposed to know you actually sell your books?"

"The books will find their rightful recipients," Dream says stiffly.

"Crowley, you have been very rude," says Aziraphale, though he hasn't given up the book, "I think you should apologize."

"Eh," says Crowley, waving this off. Hob supposes it wouldn't really be given to demons to apologize for things. "You apologize if you really want to."

Aziraphale turns to Dream with a sigh. "I am sorry for my companion's behavior. And... grateful for the book."

Dream nods solemnly at him. It seems his ire does not extend to Aziraphale.

Crowley leans back on his heels, closer to Aziraphale. "Mayyybee we should go now."

Aziraphale nods. "Quite." He tips his head at Dream, and then at Hob. "Thank you for your hospitality, Hob."

Then he turns and hurries away, Crowley slinking along beside him. As they leave, Hob hears Aziraphale admonish, "Do you know how few booksellers there are with truly rare volumes? We cannot afford to make such enemies."

"Yeah, you're welcome, angel."

"...Thank you."

Hob shakes his head in bemusement and turns back to Dream. He takes both of Dream's arms in his hands now, holding onto him, looking him over. Unable to fully vanish the lingering panic of The Library just being gone. "Are you alright? I was... worried. When you disappeared."

"I am annoyed," Dream huffs, like it's a greater point of suffering than any actual injury. Then he leans in close to Hob, pressing a hand to his chest. "I apologize. I did not intend to cause you distress. I had to shut the doors rather quickly, but I hoped to resolve the issue before you had cause to visit The Library."

"It's alright, love. I'm just glad you're okay." He kisses Dream, tentative for how new this all still is. Tastes lightning on his lips. Dream hums with pleasure.

When they pull apart, Hob wraps an arm around Dream's back, starts leading him back towards the cafe, or perhaps just to Hob's flat above. Tea solves everything. "So. The school board, eh?"

Dream sighs with the weight of the world on his shoulders. "They are enthusiastic about banning books."

Hob pulls him against his side, kisses his temple. "Dream against the world."

Dream grumbles, but leans his head on Hob's shoulder, and despite the many strange things of today Hob is going to have to internalize, he feels all soft inside at the gesture.

"Don't worry," he says, "next time your many enemies come calling, just yell and I'll create a diversion."

"And be waiting with tea after I've dealt with them?"

"Got it in one."

As they reach the door to the cafe, Dream turns his head to kiss Hob's shoulder. "You are good to me, Hob Gadling."

And Hob will keep being so. Even when the next strange thing happens.

#hob: yep. same shit as always #idk in what type school boards do or don't exist in the uk maybe that's just an american thing #also realized i never named Hob's cafe lol. i guess now it's just called The Cafe. like The Library #fitting for a man who named his tavern The New Inn #bookstore cryptid dream #my writing #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #ask #lunaris1013 #good omens #crowley #aziraphale

307 notes · View notes

quiteliterallyilliterate · 2 months

Text

MDNI

So I promise to write the Isekai pt. 2 next, but i had this idea skittering around the back of my brain and I- I just had to. Anyway. This is smut. Kiddos please leave and come back for the next episode.

cw: Completely gender neutral. Sexual content, descriptions of masturbation, oral (m receiving) and lots of praise.

Hope you enjoy~

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

Link was a patient man. In every iteration and every universe, it was something that followed him each time— the ability to wait for the sake of a greater sense.To wait as his muscles burned so he could get the best strike. To redo the same puzzles over and over until the dungeon is complete. To learn every small detail about you, even the ones that are irrelevant to most, for even the chance at you loving him even a fraction of how much he adored you.

Loving you was easy. Partly because you made it so easy to be loved that it felt as if it were something inherent to him, written in his soul. Hyrule has walked the span of worlds and yet it was you who he found to be the most precious. Afterall, even among the exceptionality that was Hylia’s heroes, you were an outlier.

For long he waited, passing the time as you grew accustomed to your surroundings and made your place among the chain. The last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable. He would sooner relinquish his magic and bleed his soul into a cold earth than force himself upon you. He may have been raised apart from proper society, but he was no monster of his desire. He is better than that creeping urge beneath his ribs.

But that didn’t change that he could feel it flare when your knuckles brushed his when you’d tag long onto his inevitable wanders. He never found it easy to sit still, but teaming with energy and magic from a full heart meant it was all he could do, to wander. You didn’t need to follow as he went to embrace the world’s soft silence. And yet, wordlessly, you’d offer him your company and follow. You made him wonder, If two arms were not enough to grab a hold on life, perhaps four?

It became familiar to feel his heart lurch as you looked upon him with soft, loving eyes when he healed you. You’d mutter the quietest thanks, just for him to hear. A gift that once marked him as tainted or impure was one that you praised.

The people of his homeland were mean, crooked people. If you weren’t exactly like one of them, you had to be purged. He was shunned by most for his magic. He does not fault them for not trusting what they don’t know, but the bitter cold loneliness got to him more than he’d like to admit. It was many years before he learned to accept that his gifts were not faults as he’d been told. The sooner he shut out the cries of unhappy souls, the sooner he could be happy. Still, he thinks of how perfectly you defied their logic.

You were nothing like anyone he’d known. Strong and defiant, taking orders from only those whom you thought to be good leaders. But you knew when to pull back. How to listen and how to care for fragile things that do not care for themselves.

It was a surprise to quite literally no one that he fell. It was also secret to no one how badly he longed. Mainly in part to his own lovesickness, he was always horrible at suppressing his emotions. But he could endure Legend’s incessant teasing if it meant he could stare at you while the sun bathed your face in just the perfect light.

He was utterly hopeless, at your beck and call for any and all orders. In the society he hailed from, such behaviours were disgraceful of a man. But so long spent being a mistake of magic meddling with mortals meant he didn’t care what they branded him as, so long as he was yours.

He was patient.

Enough so he could watch a fondness beyond friendliness grow behind your eyes.

Enough that he could hold hands with you on late night walks.

Enough that eventually, he’d hold your hand as you travelled and lead you by the small of your back whenever you joined him on his rambles. He celebrated each little milestone, giddy despite his efforts to remain calm.

He could readily recall the first time he cradled one of your hands in his, a cold night’s walk as the first snowfall dusted on whichever Hyrule the chain had wandered into. A shiver racked your body, and he couldn’t find the self restraint to stop himself before grabbing both of your hands and cupping them in his own. He brought them to his lips, almost akin to that of prayer and blew hot air onto your chilled skin. The moment passed slowly as his heart fluttered like a fairy within his ribs.

“Let’s get you back to camp to warm up” He’s still surprised he could manage to suppress the tremble of his voice as he kept one of your hands and led you back. He remembers so clearly the look you passed him with wind-flushed cheeks before your eyes darted into the treeline.

It was not much later on that he realised that this one sided love of his was anything but unrequited. Unfortunate that it happened under the circumstances it did, but it was worth it in his eyes. He hopes that even in the situation where you wouldn’t be bleeding beneath him, he’d still recognize the yearning of your heart. It was hard to miss

the fluttering of your heart as his hands glided over the appropriate grounds of your skin. It was harder to miss the way your soul reached out towards him through the bridge of his magic. The sensation was so unexpected that he faltered for a second, the bond weakening. He welcomed you, his world, with open arms.

It was a longer while yet until he kissed you. Even then it was still debatable, as he didn’t initiate. This time, a humid summer evening. A chorus of critters and crickets accompanying his ramble. He’s still rather unsure what it was about fairy culture that made you reach out and cup the curve of his jaw, but he’d be a fool to complain. Especially considering how gently you kissed him afterwards, stopping him from leaning forward and closing the gap to admire his flustered face for a moment. And for that second, he was suspended in time, lost within the raw feeling of being alive. He’s sure he was shaky at first, but he grew a little more confident as you guided his hands to your hips. You did most of the work in hindsight, gently sucking and nipping at his bottom lip. All he’d ever known told him to be ashamed of the whine you pulled out of him as he squirmed beneath you, but the proud smirk you rewarded him with filled his heart with something other than shame… But it certainly burned equally as much.

He couldn’t stop his mind from wandering back to the clearing, no matter how much time had passed or what he tried to distract his thoughts with. Vividly he still feels the sweat clinging to his skin and the pressure on the side of his hips as you shifted to straddle him. Its hard to forget that amount of pure energy and magic rushing through his blood as his heart soared. He just couldn’t keep his thoughts off of you.

Mostly they were innocent: what flowers he could braid to make your crown, what gifts he could adorn you with… things that would make you smile.

But it was those odd nights he couldn’t quite wrangle his mind that he would instead wonder about what would make you keen. What he could do to have you squirming in your seat. Whether or not you’d prefer him be below you or above. Where exactly you’d prefer his hands and lips to explore.

It was now he truly understood the priminality of the mind scape. Things that under any circumstances would have been the former, his mind would skew into the ladder. Sleepy groans as you wake twisted into whines of pleasure as he indulged in drinking down your sweet release from his worship of your sex. Sly calls of his name in teasing being morphed into your beckoning as your hand works his cock.

He tried, hard as he might to shove such indulgences out of his mind. He’d never cross your boundaries.

But is it really crossing boundaries if you’d intentionally slip a hand between his thighs while cuddling?

Is his imagination that far off if you already suck at the sensitive part of his neck?

He did not wish to indulge in being so sacreligious as to deface your divinity. So, he’d resolved to cuddle you to sleep and slip away, as he had tonight. He’d never been particularly too fond about touching himself in any way intimately. It was seen as a sin back home to indulge in pleasure outside its most primal use of breeding. But especially when considering the roads he travelled on were uncharted and dangerous, he never had the time to ever succumb to temptation in the first place.

He fumbled with his pants, eventually freeing his erection that you’d spent the last ten minutes palming. The cold air of the night only served to make him more sensitive, his lungs sucking in the air through his teeth as he rested his head back against the tree he leaned on. Slowly, he loosened his hand from where it was balled up, tightly gripping at the grass beneath him. It was easier, moving his hand to caress the length of his dick, when he imagined it was you. Hylia- how badly he wishes it was you.

He spread his thighs, as if making room for you already as his thumb gently rubs the crown of his cock. He feels his blood pulse as he continues the motion, sending shocks shuddering over the webs that made up his nerves. He slips his hand lower down, groaning as he adds pressure in his grip. The calluses of his hands are rough, contrasting the sensitive skin.

He wishes that you would watch him. Tell him he’s doing it right, kiss the column of his neck and whisper into the shell of his ear how good he’s being.

He wants to be good for you, it’s all he’s ever wanted. Sure, it’s changed now in its deeper meaning— But being a good boyfriend and being a good boy can’t be that different, can they? The thought makes his head swim and go dizzy as his languid strokes turn eager and needy.

He squeezes his eyes shut and blocks out the world to focus on you. Stunning, perfect, intoxicating you. He recalls every raspy whisper telling him how well he’s learning for you, every passing praise he’s collected. He imagined you behind him, working your hand up and down at this painfully stimulating rhythm while telling him you pretty he his as he whines your name.

All it’d take is your order for him to sing your praises and he’s moaning out his begs. His whimpers could be your hymns as he falls to his knees and worships your heat dripping with slick pre-cum. For his offering to you, he’d stay there as your fingers tug at the roots of his hair, letting you cum all over his face as his dick is left neglected. Perhaps if you were truly gracious, you’d let him hump against your leg.

His back arches as he lets out a throaty whine of your name. He sputters and grinds his hips against his hand as ropes of cum spurt from his cock. He pants, his eyes fluttering open as his fuzzy vision works toward refocusing. His blurred senses snap back to normal as a hand cups his jaw and turns his head to the right. Your eyes are half lidded as you scan over his body and the mess he’d made.

“Awe look at you” Your voice purred as your other hand combed through his wavy locks. His swallows thickly as he tries to decipher the expression on your face. What if you hated him? What if he’s too sinful for you? What if you don’t want him anymore? What if- But he finds not an ounce of dismay.

“You sounded so pretty… wailing my name as you came everywhere” His face flushed and his rapid train of thought halted, going to a complete silence.

“I- Hylia- I’m so sorry sunshine-“ He stammered out, only for you shut him up with a kiss, whispering assurances between breaths. He can feel your lips brush past his own as you mumble words of loving adoration. You nip slightly at his bottom lip as your tongue slides into his mouth, exploring his own. One hand finds purchase on his hip bone as the other stays tangled among his hair. He chances your lips as you pull back, tongue darting out to lick his saliva from your lips.

“You look so nice all dazed like this,” You tease as his head spins with you. The hand in his hair slides down to tilt his chin up, exposing his neck.

“Do you mind if I mark you up a bit?” he’d be a fool to ignore the glint in your eye, nothing pure he’s sure of it.

“Fuck- Please” Your thumb presses into his mouth and onto the very tip of his tongue as your lips suckled at the side of his neck. He can’t think of tomorrow’s embarrassment as he tries to hide the marks. His foggy mind can only focus on how amazing your lips feel as they leave bruises and the way his nerves jump when you bite him gently. He tries to beg for more as you lean away, but is stopped by the soft pad of your thumb. He swipes the tip of his tongue across it one last time before it’s removed, much to his dismay.

“Would you like some help?” You ask, bemused as the hand on his hip spread out, your palm flat against the lowest part of his abdomen. He didn’t even notice that he’d gotten hard again. Let alone that he had been arching his back.

“Don't be nervous. I want to make you feel good” Your thumb, still damp with his spit, caressed his cheek with sincerity. Your eyes held nothing but a genuine love. He nodded slowly, eyes wide as they stared back into your own.

“Use your words for me love, I wanna hear you”

“Please- shit m’ so- ah~” His begs were coked from his throat as your hand finally dipped down to fondle his balls. You sunk to right between his thighs, pressing a kiss to the very inside of either one.

“So good of you getting all prepped for me” You cooed, your hands rubbing circles into his thighs and massaging out the tension from being splayed open for so long. You pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of his cock, your tongue licking away the bit of pre-cum that followed. You smiled and licked the underside of his length along his veins all the way back up to the head.

“Mnh- Please”

“Please what, dearest” You knew what you were doing, sucking only when he tried to beg for more, reducing him to moans.

“M- mph~ More!” You grinned as he finally got the word out through choked whines.

“Alright” Finally, you took him into the wet heat of your mouth, flattening your tongue as you took him as deep as you could manage, your hands working what you couldn’t. Only to sink back up to focus on the tip while a rush of cold met his shaft.

“F- Ah~ Please” He cried as he rocked his hips, pleading to be returned to your wet mouth. His hands threaded into your hair as you sank back down. He tried his hardest to stop his hips from sputtering, lest he choke you. But something within his mind snapped as he stood at the precipice of pleasure. His hips bucked into your mouth, relishing in the warmth.

When his mind finally cleared and caught back to consciousness he was back at camp, all cleaned up. He was in fresh clothes and felt no stickiness on his skin. Your hands worked carefully as they carded through his hair, twirling at the untamed and uneven cuts. He groaned as a wave of exhaustion rolled over his bones.

“Sh sh” You eased from behind him. He was cuddled up on your chest, starfished over you.

“I cleaned you up and brought you back. You alright? Water? Snack?” He buried his face into the crook of your neck as he shook his head. This is where he was supposed to be, not waiting about for some sake of superficial love or false marriage. He was supposed to be here, loved in your arms.

“You did so well for me,” You pressed a tender kiss to his temple “I love you so much.”

“I love you too sunshine” He mumbled into your skin as sleep dragged him away.

#link x reader #linked universe #lu x reader #lu hyrule #lu hyrule x reader #mdni #baby’s first smut

93 notes · View notes

gothhabiba · 11 months

Text

I feel like I'm having to do the 4D-chess brain calculus of three variables that I had to do to understand what white people are ever talking about all over again, in order to understand what the fuck happens in able-bodied people's minds. so far I'm at:

they believe that no motion or force whatsoever is required to do things that require motion or force, such as using your hands, moving your face, or getting up to go to the bathroom. they think these things just sort of happen through universal permeating energy waves or something. they will probably continue to believe this the first ten times you point out their error to them even if they live with a disabled person. this is a really, really hard one for them.

they have a weird idea of what it means to do something "by yourself" or "under your own power." they seem to simultaneously belleve that doing something with the assistance of a mobility device that you can operate on your own is not doing it under your own power (?), and that needing a person to help you do something is not really a big deal & there's no importance at all in setting things up such that a disabled person can do as many things on their own as possible. they don't tend to think it important that disabled people have autonomy, or they find the consideration to be oxymoronic in the first place.

part of this last one is that they think it's trivially easy for any disabled person to get anyone to help them with something at any given time. this is possible for them because they are thinking in the abstract, without any of the messy calculus of "who do I ask for help" and "are they busy" and "when did I last ask them for help; am I using up all my grace by asking again" and "how patient were they the last time I asked them for help" and "when should I do this thing so that it's the best time for them to help" and "do I know anyone who's able to do x" and "if I make sure to stay friends with this person because they can do y for me is that the action of manipulative monster" that anyone who actually requires help with many of their daily actions knows is necessary.

and yet, at the same time, if you ask them for help with any task at any given time, half the time they will not do it (even if they're able to). they will only say that they will help, in the abstract, because maybe on some level they recognise that their assistance will be helpful or necessary, and they want to think of themselves as good people, and give on that they value you & their relationship with you, at least to your face. however they are not used to doing the kind of calculus that dealing with real-life disability involves (again, in their minds things just sort of 'happen') and will usually quickly bow out.

nevertheless they believe that the willingness of able-bodied people to provide help will make accessible design unnecessary ("no, there's no ramp, we'll just carry you up").

they believe that a mobility aid or prosthetic will magically make a person not disabled, no matter what said person's condition actually is, or whether a wheelchair is suited to help said person at all. you can plop someone into a wheelchair and all of their difficulties with anything, no matter what those things are, will disappear. simultaneously, and bizarrely, they consider mobility aids to be some sort of tragic impediment that is "other" to and not an extension of the body (see above about their interpretation of "under your own power").

as a corollary, if they think that a mobility aid would be helpful for someone (or even if it genuinely would be), they think that person should be basically forced to use it by being denied any other accommodation (e.g. "surely a motorised wheelchair will obviate the need for an on-call taxi service?"). reasons of personal preference or discomfort do not matter. they think that everyone should want to be as "normal" as possible.

#ableism #transportation

204 notes · View notes

she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 3 months

Text

The Girl Who Accidentally Broke The Universe

Hi, so I've had a little bit of interest on here recently about the book I've written and am currently querying so thank you guys for that, I've honestly taken a little creative hit because publishing is a tough industry to break into and the rejection is quite draining but I'm really trying to fall back in love with my manuscript right now so I thought I'd tell you all a bit about it!

A lonely goddess. A girl who's the last of her kind. A lost boy. A garden child. A missing princess. A monster. And the end of the universe. What could go wrong?

Oh, that's right - everything.

Meet Kala Sparsdon: the girl who broke the entire universe

… Twice.

In her defence, it was an accident. Sort of. Up until around eight months ago, Kala had about as normal a life as she thought she'd get - yes, it's a bit boring, and yes, she's haunted by her constant nightmares, and yes, she has no idea what she's supposed to do with her life, but she's happy and safe and all she needs in the world is the love and support of her best friend Olivia Greene. But when Olivia is killed before her eyes and Kala flees the crime scene in panic, everything she's ever known is thrown into question. As she runs from Olivia's attacker, she meets the mysterious Sienna Haden and Karter Kershaw - who claim not to be human. What started as night terrors becomes an all too real world of magic, mystery, politics, and danger as a bewildered Kala is named the saviour of this enticing new society on the verge of war with its own gods.

The Girl Who Accidentally Broke the Universe is a retrospective narrative recorded by a group of historians attempting to create an accurate and accessible account of the supposed end of the universe. Their first point of call for interview was Kala and she agreed to help create the account on the condition that it must be told almost entirely in her own voice. Upon agreement from the historians, Kala recorded herself explaining her story for it to be transcribed by an editor, who adds further details, any necessary explanations, and occasionally personal opinions to the story through footnotes over the course of the book.

As much as I have a never-ending love/hate relationship with my own writing, I know that I truly love this story and I had so much fun writing it (even if sometimes it made me want to bang my head against a table) and it would mean the absolute world to me to one day be able to share it as an actual book. If anyone wants to hear anything more about it in the future then please let me know, and thanks so much for reading this post because even just this little bit is (excluding the industry) the most I've shared about it anywhere except for in long rants to my friends (who I'm sure are fed up of hearing it by now, love you my darlings thanks for putting up with me)

73 notes · View notes

esther-dot · 4 months

Note

I was reading your comments about Jon's chivalry and protecting the vulnerable. This all brought to mind Jon's TV ending of stabbing Dany in the heart while kissing her. While we don't know whether or not this version of Dany's end is close to what will be the written version, it seems as though it's possible in part because of the Nissa Nissa legend. Jon doing that in the books (or something like it) would align with the Azor Ahai story, but in a warped sort of way, leaving events open to interpretation (as is usual with the prophecies and legends). But in any case, Jon killing a woman will be an act that is antithetical to so many of his values that it seems like it would come close to destroying him even if justified within Jon's universe. I wonder if Martin really plans to bring Jon this low, but also how it will be received. The optics of portraying such an ending for Dany given today's sensibilities could be viewed even more dimly than it would have been when Martin started writing the series?

(about this ask)

I'm so sorry that it's taken me this long to respond! I have finally reread some pertinent chapters to situate my thoughts.

First, I just want to acknowledge how upsetting this spec is to some, and remind everyone, no one wants this ending. We all think it's gross, we're just discussing the possibility, not merely because of the show, because it's an old theory. I looked around and saw posts about this starting in 2013 by Dany fans. So, the presence of this myth is substantial enough, even BNFs/Jonerys shippers felt like it had a strong chance of manifesting (although they believe Dany would willingly sacrifice herself) well before D&D committed their fuckery. I suppose all that answers your question. Man killing his lover is a gross trope, being forced to kill a loved one to save the world is overused, so now, I can't imagine anyone reading it and being happy about it.

In trying to look at the context in-canon Martin has created, he's taken it out of the strict man kills lover idea of the AA/NN myth, and is discussing the idea of sacrificing an innocent child to a god which fans have already compared to myth, Stannis & Shireen = Agamemnon & Iphigeneia. This sacrifice hasn't happened yet, but it's been confirmed as a Martin plot point. Stannis is already burning people alive, justifying kid killing, and Davos has already planted the Stannis=AA, kid=NN idea:

Davos was remembering a tale Salladhor Saan had told him, of how Azor Ahai tempered Lightbringer by thrusting it through the heart of the wife he loved. He slew his wife to fight the dark. If Stannis is Azor Ahai come again, does that mean Edric Storm must play the part of Nissa Nissa? (ASOS, Davos V)

Although, rather than this being a justified death, the fans will be horrified as we're meant to be. Davos' thoughts call into question the idea of killing another for your "magic sword":

A true sword of fire, now, that would be a wonder to behold. Yet at such a cost . . . When he thought of Nissa Nissa, it was his own Marya he pictured, a good-natured plump woman with sagging breasts and a kindly smile, the best woman in the world. He tried to picture himself driving a sword through her, and shuddered. I am not made of the stuff of heroes, he decided. If that was the price of a magic sword, it was more than he cared to pay. (ACOK, Davos I)

and Martin impresses upon us the value of each life:

"Your Grace," said Davos, "the cost . . ." "I know the cost! Last night, gazing into that hearth, I saw things in the flames as well. I saw a king, a crown of fire on his brows, burning . . . burning, Davos. His own crown consumed his flesh and turned him into ash. Do you think I need Melisandre to tell me what that means? Or you?" The king moved, so his shadow fell upon King's Landing. "If Joffrey should die . . . what is the life of one bastard boy against a kingdom?" "Everything," said Davos, softly. (ASOS, Davos V)

The talk of greater good/killing kids reminds me of AGOT in which Ned's story is inundated with the topic of child murder/protecting kids. We have Mycah, his memories of Aegon and Rhaenys, his promise to protect Jon, his guilt over his lies and treason bubbling up repeatedly, his fight against the assassination of Dany, his attempt to save Cersei's children from Robert...we all know, kid killing is wrong according to Martin, so we've already been told that this wannabe AA's actions are contemptible. The myth in which the sacrifice is happy to die, that sacrificing someone is heroic, it's being contradicted by what we're being shown in the Stannis storyline.

Now, while Stannis is being declared Azor Ahai, we're constantly being told he isn't. Jon calls the act a mummer's farce and comments on his cold sword and that is right before a Dany chapter, so the idea is, Dany is actually AA. @trinuviel is the first person I saw lay out the argument for that and contend that being AA is a bad thing (meta parts 1, 2, 3). People have said that Drogo kinda becomes her Nissa Nissa in that scenario. She burns him to get the dragons, and what are the dragons called?

"When I went to the Hall of a Thousand Thrones to beg the Pureborn for your life, I said that you were no more than a child," Xaro went on, "but Egon Emeros the Exquisite rose and said, 'She is a foolish child, mad and heedless and too dangerous to live.' When your dragons were small they were a wonder. Grown, they are death and devastation, a flaming sword above the world." He wiped away the tears. "I should have slain you in Qarth." (ADWD, Daenerys III)

That kinda makes us think, oh, the myth already has a canon counterpart, don't need to worry about it anymore. Only, we've also said Rhaegar impregnating a young Lyanna could be read as a play on Nissa Nissa, with him risking her life to get the prophecy baby, otherwise known as the third head of the dragon. And Jon is not only a kind of dragon, he repeatedly intones that fun little phrase about being a sword, and sometimes, that happens within an interesting context (for speculation purposes):

"I will." Do not fail me, he thought, or Stannis will have my head. "Do I have your word that you will keep our princess closely?" the king had said, and Jon had promised that he would. Val is no princess, though. I told him that half a hundred times. It was a feeble sort of evasion, a sad rag wrapped around his wounded word. His father would never have approved. I am the sword that guards the realm of men, Jon reminded himself, and in the end, that must be worth more than one man's honor. (ADWD, Jon VIII)

So, although there is one character that seems to be Azor Ahai (Dany), I am definitely open to the myth manifesting, or rather, being examined from multiple angles. IMO, that's what Martin is doing and we can use each variation to reassess what he's saying with it. We have Dany and Drogo (the official one/successful one), Rhaegar and Lyanna (not AA, but Jon is born), Stannis and Edric (denied), Stannis and Shireen (he will kill Shireen, but we don't know if he'll get what he wants and we do know he isn't AA)... lots of pics of a similar idea. To emphasize Stannis not being the dude and Dany being the "real" AA, we have that Jon passage and chapter transition:

Even though we have lots of contenders and commentary about this myth with the canon characters, none of it romanticizes human sacrifice, and all works towards the twist that what is said to be a hero/the weapon that will save people brings destruction. If we look back at it critically, Dany has a habit of accepting, or even causing, the suffering of others for her greater good, including sacrificing Mirri to get her dragons. We might even argue that Mirri is a Nissa Nissa for her, as Dany had taken Mirri under her protection before killing her to get dragons.

That being said, even though we're getting told this shit is bad in canon, the indictment of killing innocents and people who depend on you to protect them, it wouldn’t apply if someone were to kill Stannis or Dany. It isn’t on the same moral level as killing a child, or a spouse who loves and trusts you. It isn't the same as invading and then killing people who won't worship your god or accept you as a leader. It isn't the same as killing a slave, simply because, when their times come, Dany and Stannis will be guilty. After their actions, it would be justice for them to die. I think why other parts of the fandom entertain the idea of Dany as NN while also condemning us for entertaining it, is that Dany's vision does have her being grasped at by hands of her "children" and fans have this idea that she is sacrificing herself/her happiness for the greater good already, and in the AA/Nissa Nissa story, it does sound like she offers herself willingly for the tempering of the sword. So to them, it’s part of Dany’s heroism. Dany's death is inevitable to some, at the hands of Jon is ok, but her not dying a hero, that's unacceptable.

But thinking about how it's been discussed thus far, I can't imagine we're gonna get a romanticized version of the AA/NN myth in canon when so far, it's pretty dark/condemned. None of that precludes Jon killing Dany in what you described as a:

warped sort of way, leaving events open to interpretation (as is usual with the prophecies and legends).

which really sticks out to me as the important part of all this.

The idea that Jon might do it and characters recognize it as a tragic love story a la the myth, that fascinates me because of how Martin has written wild rumors into the story (rumors about Dany, Robb, and Sansa spring to mind), and some of us have written reality and what the public thinks into fic as two distinct things because it feels like a potential way the story might go. What is widely known to be true, like say, Jon being Ned's bastard, may not be the truth that we the readers come to know. There's no guarantee that Westeros will know what the readers know about past or future events. We may get a take on AA/NN, the characters in-world may not understand it the same way.

Jon is undeniably a hero, in a world where institutional corruption is rampant and ideals abandoned, he’s a standout in his values. We would expect, and we find, contrasts between him and these other characters (Dany, Rhaegar, Stannis), primarily, his practical actions that are about saving life/protecting life, even from Stannis, so the idea that he would abandon certain values, it's a tough one. The difference is, while Stannis, Rhaegar, and Dany were acting on these prophecies or visions or dreams, things we're repeatedly warned against trusting in the text, Jon would be taking action based on the fact that Dany is a mass-murderer, a threat to all of Westeros. It isn't a sacrifice to an unknown god for some promised mystical good, it's justice. The religious fanaticism wouldn't be a factor, the killing of an innocent wouldn't be a factor, killing a child wouldn't be a factor, killing to achieve a self-serving end wouldn't be a factor. All the things that have been criticized thus far aren't at play.

The moral quandary presented to the audience in AGOT is killing someone who might be a threat, but is a child at the moment, and Martin presents the sneaky assassination / child killing as abhorrent:

Grand Maester Pycelle cleared his throat, a process that seemed to take some minutes. "My order serves the realm, not the ruler. Once I counseled King Aerys as loyally as I counsel King Robert now, so I bear this girl child of his no ill will. Yet I ask you this—should war come again, how many soldiers will die? How many towns will burn? How many children will be ripped from their mothers to perish on the end of a spear?" He stroked his luxuriant white beard, infinitely sad, infinitely weary. "Is it not wiser, even kinder, that Daenerys Targaryen should die now so that tens of thousands might live?" "Kinder," Varys said. "Oh, well and truly spoken, Grand Maester. It is so true. Should the gods in their caprice grant Daenerys Targaryen a son, the realm must bleed." Littlefinger was the last. As Ned looked to him, Lord Petyr stifled a yawn. "When you find yourself in bed with an ugly woman, the best thing to do is close your eyes and get on with it," he declared. "Waiting won't make the maid any prettier. Kiss her and be done with it." "Kiss her?" Ser Barristan repeated, aghast. "A steel kiss," said Littlefinger. (AGOT, Eddard VIII)

which is all interesting context for Dany later being assassinated, especially because the first lesson Martin gives us on justice is one that Jon is there for, and then is reiterated in relation to Dany:

Ned had heard enough. "You send hired knives to kill a fourteen-year-old girl and still quibble about honor?" He pushed back his chair and stood. "Do it yourself, Robert. The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. Look her in the eyes before you kill her. See her tears, hear her last words. You owe her that much at least." (AGOT, Eddard VIII)

The convo about killing Dany with LF is about a bedding and before that it was presented in terms of a wedding gift, which makes me squint now knowing the AA/NN stuff:

Yes, it's awful, and I do understand, almost agree with you here:

But in any case, Jon killing a woman will be an act that is antithetical to so many of his values that it seems like it would come close to destroying him even if justified within Jon's universe.

but the way it might tie together the initial discussion of killing Dany and the eventual act weighs heavily with me when determining what Martin might do and why/why not.

The other suggestion is that Arya kills Dany. If having dragons is Chechov's gun for KL burning then Arya being a trained assassin feels like a Chechov's gun for killing Dany. But in that scenario, there is no conflict. No inner struggle. We spent so much of AGOT weighing the morals of killing Dany, it's hard for me to believe when the time comes, it's presented without any moral complexity. Arya is already able and willing to take a life, even when it isn't justified. It doesn't feel right to me that killing Dany would be a presented without an inner struggle, that it would be done easily, as easily as Arya now kills. TBH, it removes the drama if someone other than Jon does it because it will be so highly necessary and just when the time comes. Jon is really the only character who can make it squeamish because of the guy killing a woman thing and because it will be kinslaying.

There is a lot of talk about poison, so I think it's totally possible Arya tries to kill Dany with poison first, but I think Jon is more likely to be the one to successfully kill her, and in a way that calls to mind Ned's opinion on it, See her tears, hear her last words. That would allow Martin to make sure we see it as just/moral, bring home the Targ v Targ issue, and it shades Ned's decisions and values in a very interesting way.

After s8 fans said Ned was wrong to fight against killing Dany in s1, but Martin thinks he was right to object to killing children, so for the two Targ children he was protecting in AGOT (Dany and Jon) to come face to face and one kill the other prevents the conclusion that Ned was wrong. It was the same mercy, the same refusal to see the child of an enemy as an enemy, that saved the boy who will in turn save Westeros. IMO, it's a way to uphold the belief in mercy. I tend to think it’s also Martin’s way of addressing one his questions about his beloved LOTR (what about orc babies etc).

If another person ends Dany, we still get dead Dany, but it doesn't say anything interesting? Killing her wouldn't be a sacrifice on anyone else's part, she won’t be loved and she has to go. But, Jon, who so desperately wants to have honor, if he kills her, it's right as well as an egregious "sin." Ned dishonors himself to protect Sansa (and obvy was committing treason to protect Jon), it feels like coming full circle for Jon, who so wants to be worthy of being a son to Ned to follow his path there too. Also, one thing I expect we’ll keep tracking is kinslaying. Kinslaying comes up with the AA/Nissa Nissa issue in the Stannis storyline, so I do expect that to be addressed in Jon chapters:

We have the whole baby switch to assure us, Jon values human life a great deal. All the same, that involves a moment of cruelty on Jon's side, so Martin isn't interested in keeping him perfectly pure. He likes those moments where doing the right thing is very difficult, even compromising in some way. It's why, while we say Ned committing treason for Jon is a no brainer, Martin writes Ned tortured by it. He likes the inner turmoil over decisions, placing a societal good (honor) against another obligation or ideal and asking what is right.

I wonder if Martin really plans to bring Jon this low, but also how it will be received. The optics of portraying such an ending for Dany given today's sensibilities could be viewed even more dimly than it would have been when Martin started writing the series?

Despite all the ways I think it makes sense, yes, I def think this is one of those areas that if he had finished the series as quickly as he'd hoped, would have gone over better. Dany has dragons, therefore, she will be an overwhelming threat to Westeros, so it isn't like Jon will just randomly kill a woman, yet it's distasteful all the same. Martin is looking at things from the context of his story and the ideas he’s already introduced/talking about though which is why I can wince but kinda understand it. There are other issues where my sensibilities diverge from his, so didn’t like it on the show, I don’t like it for the books, still think it’s probably gonna happen. 🤷🏻‍♀️

#dot chat #anti daenerys #anti jonerys #azor ahai #jon snow #asoiaf speculation #anti rhaegar #anti stannis

60 notes · View notes

recreationalfanfics · 1 year

Text

Yandere! Adventurer x Fem! Reader HCs

I do not condone this behavior in real life. If you or someone close to you has a partner who displays any of these unhealthy behaviors, please contact the Domestic Abuse Hotline: 800-799-7233. If you wish to message, text "START" to 88788. If you believe your messages or calls are being monitored, then use contact: 800.799.SAFE (7233)

- OKAY, SO THIS IDEA CAME TO ME DURING A CREATIVE WRITING CLASS SINCE WE'RE WATCHING INDIANNA JONES BUT IMAGINE SOMEONE LIKE THAT BEING A YANDERE?? LIKE, SOMEONE KINDA BASED OFF OF HIM.

- Yandere Adventurer is someone who knows how to do very thorough research on anyone and any artifact in the world. Someone whose learned various different methods to subtly knock someone out, someone who has found even the most magical relics and prevented the wrong people from getting their hands on it.

- Yandere Adventurer is highly notorious in the rings of archeologists and historians but not in a good way. All of them sticking their nose up at him because of his "juvenile methods" and because he's so "young and impulsive". He knows they're just a bunch of uptight old men but it really gets him pressed when they talk shit behind his back after he went through all the trouble to bring them back a LONG LOST ARTIFACT.

- Yandere Adventurer who isn't really appreciated by anyone, all of them thinking he's just so arrogant upstart whose allowed to galavant all over the world whenever he wishes. Effortlessly fighting off armed men, beasts, and other threats. As if he hadn't sustained nearly serious injuries, as if he wasn't fighting for his life. But he won't tell them about that, they didn't deserve to know that. They could talk all they wanted too for all he cares.

- Yandere Adventurer who nearly thinks about giving up. No one respects him, no one appreciates the thing he does for the sake of preserving the past, and no one can get passed the glamour of his lifestyle to see he faces actual danger everyday. That is, until, he met you.

Maybe you're a museum curator, maybe you're a new historian who started working at the same university as him, or maybe you're just a big fan. Either way, you both meet at a grand opening to display his most recent adventure and you just had been working ALL night to try and talk to him but you were too shy, favoring to just look at the giant bone display of an undiscovered dinosaur species and feeling small. What on earth were you thinking? You couldn't possibly have anything interesting to say to a person like him, you were ridiculous for thinking you could approach him.

- Yandere Adventurer who has a strained smile as the owner of the museum, aka the person who simply owns the building, takes great pride on having such a ground breaking discovery in his museum and not even crediting the Adventurer who STOOD RIGHT NEXT TO HIM. However, he was too tired by the uncomfy suit to say anything so he just rolls his eyes and downs his glass of wine before looking over at the dinosaur display. His eyes landing on you immediately.

- Yandere Adventurer who does have a bit of a reputation of being a flirt, charming women no matter where he went. Hopefully talking to a pretty thing like you would get his mind off of his exaughstion and near burn out. So he just walks next to you, you didn't even notice until he spoke up.

"Quite the specimen, ain't he? Won't believe how many black market dealers were after this thing."

"O-Oh, it's you!"

- Yandere Adventurer who smiles softly as you try to stammer and introduce yourself. You tell him how you absolutely loved his work and his dedication and how you were a big fan. His heart leaps in his chest in a way no other woman has done before but he brushes it aside. Of course you know who he is, everyone knows who he is, he's just lucky that you're not one of those people who act like they can do his job.

"Sure is, darlin'." He says suavely before kissing your hand. You're very clearly flustered as your eyes can no longer make eye contact with his and you give him a shy smile.

Fuck, you're cute.

"And may I get to know yer name, ma'am?" He asked politely, his hand still still holding yours.

"(Y/n). (Y/n) (L/n)." You say timidly.

- Yandere Adventurer who spends the entire night regaling you with his stories. His hand somehow made its way to your waist and you stare at him with such adoration in your eyes with each exciting detail. Not to mention when he mentioned any parts of him getting hurt on these adventures, you'd show some kind of concern for him.

"Ah, it happened a while ago. M'all better now~" He snickered. Your brows furrowed, concerned, as you tell him: "But it must've been so scary to deal with by yourself. Don't get me wrong, it was very brave of you, but I also can't help but feel concerned.

- Yandere Adventurer who starts to think that maybe he won't stop adventuring yet when you exchange numbers after talking and it soon gets late. He offers to walk you to your car and as he watches you leave, he feels like you took a part of him with you. Of course, he wasn't one who thought too much about love at first sight. It didn't exist. His past lovers are a testament to that but even when driving home, you're still on his man. After he showers off the gross smell of rich old people, your smile still plagues his mind and the last thing he thinks about is your face as he goes to sleep.

- Yandere Adventurer who sees that you've been transferred to a position or job that is coincidentally right near him. If he didn't know any better, he'd say it was fate, but he knew such a thing didn't exist. He isn't complaining though, he loves about around you. Despite not having a super cool job like his, you always seem ready to brighten up his day. Making a habit to chat with him in the morning and, once you figured out how he liked it, bringing him coffee since you knew he had a tendency to pull all nighters to find leads on a new relic.

- Yandere Adventure who grows closer to you. Both of ranting about the men who are as old as the fossils in the archive, snickering to each other like little kids when one of them scolds you two for not being more formal with each other, and just opening up with conversation. You actually make him look forward to working. Usually most of the day, he'd be praying and hoping someone needed his assistance finding something or another hitman attack that'd send him around the world, but now his eyes eagerly flick to the door. Waiting for when you walked in to start your shift.

- Yandere Adventurer who goes on another adventure, not as long as his other ones, but during the entire time he can't stop thinking about you. Man, he can imagine how excited you'd get over the architecture. How you'd be so enchanted by the various different foods and eat yourself silly. How you would be infodumping random information about the region, the people, the culture, the clothing- anything. Honestly...maybe he should bring you back a souvenir or something. It's hard choosing one since he can't really find anything that would fit you. Like yeah maybe you'd find the bobble head cute but he wants to get you something a bit...more. Like, I don't know, maybe a necklace worn by a royal princess that was in an old jewlery box he discovered along with a lot of other hidden treasure.

- Yandere Adventurer who comes back, eager to show you his gift when he goes back to the University the next day, only to see that you were waiting for him at the airport. His heart stops when you make eye contact. Why were you here? More importantly, why did he feel so goddamn happy that you were? At least until your face contorts into one of annoyance and he knows he's in trouble.

"I understand what you do but I thought we were friends!" You scold, "Do you know how worried sick I was when you didn't show up for four days!? Then one of those uptight archivists told me you were halfway around the world!? Without giving me a heads up or saying: "bye!?"

Ah, thats right. He left without saying bye...

"Aw, shucks, m'sorry, darlin'" He frowned, his southern drawl becoming sad and dejected. You were gonna continue to pout until he gave you a sheepish smile, "I guess I just never had anyone care enough about me to give 'em a heads up."

Your angry expressions turns into a shocked one and soon, you can't find it in yourself to be angry anymore.

"O-Oh, then...I guess I understand. I'm sorry...But don't you dare ever do that again, okay!?"

"S'a deal, (Y/n)...Oh, by the way, I got ya something!

- Yandere Adventurer who never asked to keep any portion of the relics he brought back but he made an exception for you and it was so worth it to see your face. The way it lit up as he put the necklace around you and you checked yourself in the mirror, fawning over it. When he says you can keep it, you grow timid. After all, should you really keep it? It is a historical artifact! But he insists. Telling you that: "Pretty ladies should have pretty things." like the flirty friend he is.

- Yandere Adventurer who is no longer easily tricked by femme fatales or women who flirted with him because they just weren't you. He used to love the thrill but it was nothing compared to the feeling of his hand touching yours when you both went to grab a history book or when you had eaten so much at his house that you fell asleep on his couch and he got admire your cute little face and make you breakfast.

- Yandere Adventurer who begins to write letters and send messages and call you during his trip sometimes and who doesn't hesitaite to answer when you call him. He could literally be in South America jumping across snapping crocodiles to get across the river when he hears his phone ring.

"(Y/n)!! Huh? Aw, don't worry you didn't catch me at a bad time!"

*Croc nearly bites his leg off*

- Yandere Adventure when he's excited to come home, his newest prize now in his hands. He's exuaghsted and tired but is so excited when he hears from a hotel staff that someone had sent him a letter. He doesn't snatch it fast enough as he runs into his hotel room and rip it open, his smile bright but soon fading as he reads the letter. Don't get him wrong, he loves hearing from you and he was happy to know you were getting a promotion. However, he wasn't happy when he read a certain part of your letter.

"The university hired someone to help me whenever you're gone so you don't have to worry about dumping the workload on me anymore. I actually think you guys would get along really well together, he's just as much of a fan of you as I am and he's so excited to meet you when you come back!"

- Yandere Adventurer who has to reread the letter to make sure he read it right. Beg his pardon but HE!? WHEN DID THE UNIVERSITY SUDDENLY NEED SOMEONE TO HELP YOU? THEY BARELY CARED WHEN HE TOOK OFF FOR A FEW MONTHS AS LONG AS HE GOT MUSEUMS TO FUND THEM. WHERE WAS THIS WORKLOAD AND MORE IMPORTANTLY, WHY WASN'T HE NOTIFIED!? Until he looked at his notifications on his phone, which didn't get the best wifi or data in the heart of a lost forest and saw that he was, in fact, notified about the new guy. Ah...

- Yandere Adventurer who packs his stuff then and there, he's going home as soon as possible. When someone is concerned and tells him he should rest, he assured them that he's fine. Absolutely fine! Everything is fine! In fact, he's fine enough to go home, back to where you are! Fine enough to excite you with his newest gift, which he'll make sure to give in front of the new guy so they know EXACTLY whose the more impressive man, and fine enough to strangle the mystery bastard who snuck in while he was gone!

- Yandere Adventurer who shows up at his usual early time at work to get things prepared and situated. However when he walks in, he sees a stranger organizing the papers and archives and his mouth just grows into a frown. So this was the new guy? Bet he couldn't even stop multiple Japanese Triad members armed with katannas. The new guy lights up when he sees him and immediately gets excited and maybe Adventurer would've been flattered, if it didn't feel like that prick was mocking him. Talking nonsense about how he made sure everything was organized everything while he was away and how you were a good guide. OF COURSE YOU WERE, you were good at a lot of things.

- Yandere Adventurer who finds himself acting like his Aunt Darlene whenever she got jealous, putting on a fake venomous smile and using that southern charm to cover up her passive-agressiveness. The new guy either is ignoring it or too star struck by Adventurer to care, which really annoys him. His hatred only grows when you finally come in at your normal time, two coffees in your hand.

"YOU'RE BACK!" You cheered.

Adventurer's smile grew, more genuine and softer. You hand one of the coffees over to the new guy and then go to hug him.

"I'm so glad you're here! You're so early, though! If I had known you were coming back today, I would've gotten you one too!"

Adventurer hugs you, a bit tighter than usual but you don't notice. The new guy, however, notices the way that the Adventurer is giving him such a brutal death glare.

"Ain't nuthin' to worry about, sweetheart."

- Yandere Adventurer who hates seeing you both have inside jokes. Who hates the way you treat the intruder so gently when he can't do his job right. Who hates it that whenever he tries to give his gift to you, the new guy immediately can recognize the ancient carvings on the gift and starts info dumping about its history, your eyes now looking at him with intruige while Adventurer just briefly scrunches his nose. He already knew that stuff, he was going to tell you about it, so why did that disgusting worm steal his thunder!?

- Yandere Adventurer who starts comparing himself to this guy. This guy can't ever measure up to Adventurer. Not when he's fought warriors that came back from the dead, escaped ancient death mazes hidden inside temples, been hunted down by various crime syndicates, so why...why is he so jealous of this guy? This awkward, ordinary guy. Was it because of you? Well, he knew he liked you a bit more than a friend and he knew that you had a thing for him...but what if you wanted someone who wasn't always half way across the world? Someone who wouldn't worry you about being in life threatening danger.

- As far Adventurer sees it, he has three options:

1. Be straight up and tell you about his feelings and then work out your relationship from there because he's willing to compromise.

2. Invite you with him on his next adventure while somehow keeping you safe. who knows, you guys might have to share a tent

3. Get rid of the new guy.

- Yandere Adventurer who decides to try and text you to meet up but you apologized since you had to help the new guy reorganize everything because he messed up. Adventurer them shoots a text saying he'll come over and help and grabs his keys, a dark glint in his eyes.

- Nevermind, he only had two options because he was getting rid of that man one way or another.

#yandere male x reader #yandere male #yandere male oc #yandere x reader #tw yandere #Yandere Adventurer #There will be another part to this if I have motivation-#BUT YEAH NO A YANDERE ADVENTURER OC.#yandere original character #Feel free to ask about him tbh!#Idk why but I really think the name Jesse fits him but I could be tripping too-#yandere hcs #male yandere #yandere #Yandere Adventurer Hcs #yandere imagines #Oc: Jesse Reeves

238 notes · View notes