#as the poets say. the days start coming and they dont stop coming | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sainzfilm · 1 year

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hiii can I request an Instagram au Carlos x reader where reader is starting her singer career? She can be friends with most of the drivers too ty <3

pairing: carlos sainz x singer!reader

a/n: i love this!!! hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed making it :) also can you all tell that i love hailee and gracie…AND i also inserted taylor’s song ;) just because that makes me swoon from my feels ugh

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

new beginnings - carlos sainz

instagram edit

Liked by carlossainz55, lilymhe, and 272,419 others

yourusername new beginnings. can’t wait for you all to hear my story x

photo credits to amor de mi vida, carlossainz55 🖤

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yukitsunoda0511 congratulations, Y/N!! 😊 i will make some sushi for you when you come by next race weekend

carlossainz55 also me, right?

yourusername no he said for ME, tonto

charles_leclerc excited for your career, bonne chance! 🍾🎊

yourusername thanks, bud!!! see you next weekend, stop hogging my boyfriend 😘

landonorris there we have it folks! the next grammy award winner for next year 😉

alex_albon you’re saying that so she can give you tickets when she opens for taylor swift

yourusername YOU GUYS….im blushing 🙄 also obviously what do you think of course im getting you guys tickets

Liked by estebanocon, landonorris, and 761,398 others

carlossainz55 boyfriend duties for mi amor. hope you all stay tuned for her ep next week, she worked very hard for it 😝❤️

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charles_leclerc mate….did you just let her pass out on the floor?

yourusername he did.

carlossainz55 ay, stop lying, amor. i carried you to bed afterwards 😑

danielricciardo all the best!!! already told the family and friends to check it out when its released 😎

❤️ Liked by yourusername

Liked by estebanocon, pierregasly, and 21,383 others

carlossainz55 first gig in london 🇬🇧 she didn’t know we were coming to surprise her, which is obvious in the second photo. 😝 proud of you, mi amor, te amo. x

ps. give me back my polo?

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yourusername HEY!!! to be fair, you told me you were busy with media day 😔 te amo te amo te amo. thank you for being the best, my carlos :)🖤 also. no. my polo now.

carlossainz55 ay, busy? when am i ever going to be busy when it comes to you?

charles_leclerc he’s right. he doesn’t want to play chess with me anymore because he’s on a call with you

alex_albon great great show, Y/N!! can’t wait for your success, lily and i are sending the biggest hugs 😊

yourusername PLEASEEEE come to my next show, i miss the both of you 😔

landonorris she’s beauty, she’s grace, she’s taking the music industry in the face!!! proud of you

yourusername you, george, and alex better come visit me real soon 😤 the powerpuff quartet must have a reunion

georgerussell63 i didnt agree to that name.

alex_albon we dont care, george

Liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe, and 289,273 others

yourusername its past midnight and i ask him to go on a drive, he picks up his car keys without hesitation. its one of his rest days and i ask him if he could cook some pasta, he grabs my hand and leads me to the kitchen. oh how you make coming home always so sweet.

sweet nothing, coming out on september 1. 🖤

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sainz55files oh my god…..did she write this song for him 😭 im going to be in tears when it comes out!!!

powerpuffquartet COUNT ME IN IM NOT READY

charles_leclerc why does he never cook pasta for me? 😔

landonorris change your name to Y/N then ask him again

danielricciardo such a poet your girl is, smooth operator! 😉

yourusername shakespeare must be tossing and turning in his grave

carlossainz55 brilliant mind, kind heart– you are everything and more to me, mi amor. i love you

yourusername now don’t come home without pizza hehehe i love you

alex_albon there we go, Y/N just messing the cheesiness up 😒

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filmnoirsbian · 10 months

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hi joan. so ive written poetry for a few years now, but ive taken a break for a while because i couldn't find the inspiration or motivation to write. recently, ive started reading more poetry and other types of writing, but i find that im being inspired by specific lines (or concepts) more than anything else, and i think im crossing from inspiration into plagiarism. the thing is, in my own poetry, ill mostly either copy things like the structure/message/word choice/feel or what the line or poem itself is trying to do and i can't seem to stop. i can't get inspired on my own like everyone else seems to - it feels like my mind is blank whenever i try to write. and then i get inspired by others, it seems i can only badly imitate the words of another writer. i cant even read someone elses work without getting an idea about my writing or thinking about how it can branch off into my own. i cant help feeling horrible and guilty about it all the time, and it makes me question whether im even meant to be a poet despite the fact i genuinely do want to do it. it's like i dont have anything of my own to say and im just regurgitating everything that strikes me in writing. sorry, obviously you dont have to answer this, its very desperate lol. but would you have any advice (your writing is v good and i admire your thoughts)? in your opinion, how would you differentiate between inspiration and plagiarism? how do you find inspiration when it feels like you have nothing to say (if that happens to you)? and just. anything in general. i just feel so lost and hopeless - it seems like every writer has it figured out and knows the answers, except me. sorry again

Everyone gets inspiration from somewhere. None of us exist in total isolation and inspiration is everywhere, which is a good thing. I think this is something most creators worry about, given how much of art and media these days is derivative (and has, in spite of what we may think, been derivative throughout the ages. Again, no one exists in a bubble. Art being similar in theme or style is also not an inherently bad thing). Really, I wouldn't worry about it unless you are actively copying another person's work to the point where your work is not only similar, but genuinely incapable of standing on its own. There are plenty of talented poets (and artists in general) who have taken inspiration from other poets/artists before them. In this way, art can often be an ongoing conversation across generations. It might be helpful for you to decide what it is you want to bring to the table in this creative potluck, what you want to add to the discussion, what you hope might plant the seed of inspiration in the next poets to come.

#asks

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trickstarbrave · 6 months

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listen.

i have no defense for this okay. the only thing i have to say for myself is not one not two but three whole people encouraged me. i started thinking about it ha ha ironic ha ha as a joke but now look at me. dont do things as a joke theyre a gateway drug to doing it for real

anyways. heres omegaverse nerevoryn. let he who is without sin cast the first fucking stone at me.

also its not done im just horrified i wrote so much so fast

There were, despite the stereotypes, perks when it came to being an omega. In fact, in a way, stereotypes could be one of the perks, if you played your cards right. And if there was anything Nerevar knew how to do, it was use anything and everything to his advantage.

There was a common belief omegas were all delicate, gentle hearted, peace-keepers--or worse, treasures that lay in wait for some big strong alpha to come take them. It wasn’t like there were no docile, delicate omegas, but Nerevar was certainly not the type. He could make peace all right--with persuasion and his blade however, not rolling over with his belly up begging everyone to stop fighting.

Most people thought he was an alpha, given how headstrong he was and how quickly he took charge of situations. That, or he was an alpha-leaning beta given he was usually able to keep his cool in difficult situations, especially around alphas acting territorial and puffing out their chests. Nerevar never bothered correcting them either way; sure, he could turn himself into some moral champion of omegas and prove they could be just as capable of politicians and warriors, but the more likely outcome was everyone he told would take him significantly less seriously. And that would mean more heads would have to roll and well, Nerevar didn’t like cleaning up messes.

He still had heats, having to retreat into his room for days at a time, but no one said anything. Just as easily he could be locked away in a rut, or praying to Azura for several days on end. No one dared question him, and only the most trustworthy attendants were allowed anywhere near his room to be able to smell the difference.

On the plus side, Nerevar had many things he used to his advantage; in all honesty, the fact people thought Nerevar was a beta wasn’t unfounded. Even when an alpha went into a rut, he was mostly unbothered by it. A bit of discomfort, not to mention he needed a long bath afterwards to get the smell off him, but unlike some omegas where the scent of an alpha in rut had them going into heat right away, Nerevar could force those instincts down. And, through careful control of his mental state, he could usually calm most alpha’s down without them being the wiser about Nerevar’s secondary sex and wanting to take him for themselves. His seeming immunity from an alpha in rut was often the subject of multiple jokes by Almalexia, as the two of them would mostly sit around, having a few drinks in the quiet of her room. Well, that was until she took Vivec as her mate, then most of her ruts were spent with the warrior poet instead.

Hence why, when his meeting with Voryn had been canceled last minute after he already made his way to Kogoruhn, he simply strolled to Voryn’s room, humming casually with a couple books and food for the other.

Much like Nerevar, Voryn was also an… Interesting example of an alpha. Voryn was usually pegged more so as a beta based on his behavior, until you got a whiff of pheromones when you pissed him off. He wasn’t as outwardly aggressive and territorial as far as most people were concerned, but Nerevar knew him well. He disguised it as dedication and love for his house, or loyalty to those close to him, but he was indeed territorial. And instead of outward aggression, picking fights and throwing fists, he preferred to temper his aggression and instead attack them when they least expected it. He may look like he forgives and forgets, but in truth he was a viper laying in wait to strike.

Nerevar knocked, careful not to drop the few books tucked under his arm, hearing the low growl that followed.

“Out.” Voryn hissed, and Nerevar bit back a laugh.

“It’s me,” Nerevar clarified. “I brought you some books and some food. Servants said you haven’t eaten since yesterday.” Voryn, unlike his typical cool demeanor, was vicious and snippy in a rut. Since Nerevar grew up alongside him, he knew it very well, getting chased away from Voryn’s door every time. Well, that and the servants and other members of House Dagoth would shoo him away, warning him not to go near. It was customary to keep young alphas and omegas apart during heats and ruts respectively, for good reason. No one wanted any injured teenagers or anyone carrying children way too young. But Nerevar could still see it in the aftermath--scratch marks on Gilvoth after he came to force his younger brother to eat, broken furniture, a smashed window at one point--luckily he calmed down from physical violence as he got older. If he hadn’t, he doubted Kogoruhn would still be standing with all the magic the lord knew.

“All the more reason to tell you to leave.” Voryn huffed.

“You know ruts don’t bother me.” Nerevar snarked. “Hurry up and open the door before I drop your food.”

After some groaning and growling, eventually Voryn did open the door, to which Nerevar quickly darted inside before he could take the tray and shove him out.

“You are an idiot.” Voryn groaned as Nerevar set the tray of food on the desk, before tossing the books onto Voryn’s bed. “But that’s nothing new anymore.”

“I told you, ruts don’t bother me.” Nerevar chuckled, trying to ignore the heavy feeling in the air as always. At the very least, Voryn’s scent wasn’t offensive; some alphas made him feel disgusting, if not a little nauseous. Voryn’s was much more familiar and a lot more welcomed, given he was used to it in much smaller quantities over the years. In fact, it was kind of nice; warm, a bit spicy, and nostalgic.

“I can’t help but fear you’re just playing with fire when you say things like that.” Voryn sighed, before plopping himself on the bed. He was dressed very loosely, no doubt feeling hot and antsy. Nerevar, unbothered, also sat beside him with a grin on his face.

“Come on, I’m not being that reckless.”

“You’re tempting fate, that’s what you’re doing.” Voryn huffed. “But you’ve always been like that, haven’t you? Always pushing your luck to its limits until it blows up in your face.”

“It hasn’t blown up in my face yet,” Nerevar asserted proudly. “Until several of Sil’s little inventions.” Voryn rolled his eyes at that.

“Because you’re constantly poking and prodding at them even when he specifically told you not to, that’s why.” Nerevar, seeing as Voryn was making a good point, instead side-stepped it entirely.

“Come on, you know you get lonely during a rut,” Nerevar instead circled the conversation back around. “Bored, stir crazy, antsy…”

“That’s the nature of a rut so I don’t rip someone to pieces.” Voryn huffed. “I’m not supposed to be relaxing and having fun but defending my territory and looking for a mate as far as my instincts are concerned.”

“Mm…” Nerevar hummed. “I heard mate does make them easier. At least, as far as Ayem told me.” Nerevar hadn’t minded his wife taking a mate that wasn’t him; in terms of sexual compatibility, Nerevar didn’t find her very appealing. Not that she was ugly or anything--far from it! She was very beautiful, tall, strong… All things an omega should be dying to have in a mate. But there was something about her scent that put him off from ever wanting to mate. Just as well, she didn’t find his scent all that appealing either, and most political marriages didn’t end in mating even in the case of alpha and omega couples.

“And I am in no mood to tear apart Vvardenfell looking for one.” Voryn scoffed, before laying down. Despite doing so, however, he didn’t look comfortable in the slightest. All of his muscles were tense as he laid there, stiff as a corpse. “I have things to be doing, research to do, meetings to be had--”

“Shh…” Nerevar hushed him, scooting closer to rub his back. At the touch Voryn snarled, before slowly he began relaxing, bit by bit. “There…” Nerevar smiled fondly. “You’ll have time for all of that when this is over. It’s only a couple of days right?” Nerevar asked, before working at a knot on Voryn’s shoulder. “Roll over and I’ll rub your back. You’re way too tense.”

Despite all his huffing and snarling, Voryn did roll over, face planted in a pillow, allowing Nerevar climb on top of him to massage his back. For most alphas having an omega crawling on top of them in the middle of a rut like this was no doubt humiliating, but Voryn had in fact relaxed gradually. The scent in the air turned from one of hostility and warning to more of a gentle warmth as Nerevar continued to work knot after knot out of his back.

“What research are you working on now?” Nerevar asked, hoping some light conversation would help relax him further.

“Mm…” Voryn groaned softly, fingers clenching and unclenching the blankets under him. “Dwarven explosive powder…”

“Making it?” Nerevar asked, raising a brow.

“No,” Voryn clarified. “Dwemer machinery is required to actually… Make it.” He hummed softly as Nerevar rubbed at his lower back, working the especially tense muscles nice and slow. “Machinery far too large and complicated to fit into Kogoruhn.”

“What about it then?”

“Dwemeri oil has a number of alchemical properties…” Voryn continued. “I was hoping to test if their explosive powder had any as well.”

“Without blowing up half of your stronghold, I hope?” At that, Voryn snorted, before rolling over and forcing Nerevar off him now that he was much more relaxed. With a grin, Voryn tugged Nerevar down to be laying beside him.

“Unlike you, I don’t have a track record for blowing things up unintentionally.”

“You’re back on that again?” Nerevar groaned, offended but still laughing.

“I’m not the one who brought it up the first time.” Voryn smirked. “Though tell me, how many times has Dumac saved you from nearly stepping on a landmine again?”

“You’re being an asshole right now, you know that?” Nerevar shot him a playful glare.

“Well you’re an asshole all the time and it’s never stopped you.”

And just like that, the two were at it. Was wrestling an alpha in rut a good idea? Not in the slightest. However, the two used to playfully wrestle all the time as children and even teenagers, so it was… Oddly nice to do so again as adults. Typically Nerevar would win due to raw strength alone--and he could right now, of course--but he knew it was probably a terrible idea to piss an alpha off like that in the middle of a rut. So instead, Nerevar just put up a gentle fight, knocking several of the pillows and blankets off the plush bed, along with the books Nerevar brought earlier, all the while laughing. Then, once he felt Voryn was starting to get a bit too aggressive and his movements too hurried, he let the other pin him to the bed.

“Gods…” Nerevar laughed, breathlessly. “How long has it been since we wrestled like this?”

“Decades.” Voryn replied, equally as breathless. “Mm… But oddly nice to get the energy out.”

“I told you.” Nerevar grinned. “Nice to move around, get your mind off things… Sitting there stewing in it only makes it worse.”

“Don’t tell me you go around wrestling people in heat.” Nerevar nearly choked in laughter at that.

“No!” He had to roll over onto his side, holding his stomach from giggling. “Gods, fuck no! Azura’s mercy, I’m not that insane!” Another few chuckles followed as he tried to compose himself. “I can barely stand anyone touching me once it settles in. Everything feels so… Sharp and uncomfortable.”

“Does it?” Voryn raised an eyebrow, but climbed off Nerevar to flop down beside him. “That sounds… Unusual.”

Nerevar shrugged. “It’s always been like that.” He admitted as though it were nothing. “You wouldn’t it get it being an alpha, I guess.”

“Nerevar, I may be an alpha but that doesn’t mean I’m uneducated.” Voryn was oddly stern now, concerned. “Just like how you aren’t an alpha but understand how a rut works.”

“Look, what do you want me to say?” Nerevar asked. “No healer has ever told me anything is wrong with me. It just seemed the more time that went on, the more… Painful they got?” Nerevar groaned. “Well, not really painful, I’ve found a way around it for the most part--”

“So you’re coping with it like a poorly healed injury.”

“No!” Nerevar asserted. “It’s not an injury but a normal thing.”

“A normal process that isn’t acting as normal.”

“Look,” Nerevar rolled his eyes, “You can bother the healers back at the palace about it if you’re so concerned. But I’ve adjusted just fine to my heats. I lay in bed, have all my food ready, stacks of books and what have you, and I deal with it.” Nerevar gave him a playful kick. “Unlike someone who went a whole day without eating.”

Voryn rolled his eyes, getting up from the bed. “Fine fine, I’ll eat lord Nerevar.” Voryn replied, sarcastically. He then went over to his desk, finally eating the meal Nerevar brought him.

While he ate, they still chatted and talked, Nerevar laying casually on his bed. It hadn’t been the first time he’d done it, and Nerevar expected it wouldn’t be the last with their close friendship. Even as councilman and king, Nerevar saw them as close friends above all else. The closest friend he had, honestly.

Yet, as he laid there he found himself feeling… Uncomfortable. The air wasn’t stifling after Voryn calmed down, but his clothes felt… Itchy. Not to mention he was starting to feel feverish. Maybe that wrestling wasn’t a good idea if he was coming down with something, but he didn’t want to leave yet--he was mid conversation, after all, and it seemed like Voryn was still relaxing more and more. Yet, it wasn’t long until Nerevar was tossing and turning on the bed, trying to feel comfortable. Despite being fully dressed and indoors he got that same paranoid feeling he had being out in the open on the battlefield: antsy and exposed.

“Are you alright?” Voryn had finished by now, coming to the bed to look at him.

“Yeah just--” Nerevar sighed. “Uncomfortable.” Then, realizing how that might be interpreted, tried to cover for it. “Not that your bed is uncomfortable, I just feel… Off, all of a sudden.”

“How so?”

“My clothes feel itchy--” Nerevar was already scratching at his arms, writhing slightly to try and itch at his back. “It’s not flees, I just bathed… Not to mention it’s not like, bug bite itchy but like my clothes are way too rough…”

“Stress?” Voryn asked, looking at his arms to ensure he didn’t have a rash. “I could always look at your clothes to be sure.”

“Not a bad idea.” Nerevar began pulling his shirt up over his head to hand to Voryn who combed it over. Sure enough, the clean cloth had no little parasites or bugs crawling around in it, but already Nerevar felt relieved. He kicked off his trousers while he was at it, left only in his undergarments, much more comfortable.

“Well the fabric is particularly rough.” Voryn remarked. “Thick material, more used for keeping warm and dry rather than relaxing. Rolling around wrestling in it probably irritated your skin.” Nerevar snorted at that, especially as Voryn tossed one of his own silk robes on top of him. He used to have no problem wrestling in the ash and dust, but now slightly rough fabric was what was going to do him in? Although, the silk robe was a lot more comfortable, the soft fabric almost soothing his skin as he curled up with it on and tied shut, breathing deeply. Voryn’s sheets were also nice and soft…

“You are also feeling warm though…” Voryn brought the back of his hand to Nerevar’s forehead. “Not to mention I actually beat you at wrestling…” He looked concerned, “You weren’t mucking around the bitter coast again were you? Swamp fever has been on the rise there, and I know how much you love mudcrab hunting more than your own good--” Nerevar rolled his eyes.

“I came straight here from the propylon chamber, Voryn.” He did wear weather appropriate clothes given it was the cold and rainy season in northern VVardenfell, but that was just a precaution. “I wasn’t running around the bitter coast catching mudcrabs, I can assure you.”

“Here,” Voryn stood up now, pulling the pillows and blankets back on the bed to make Nerevar more comfortable. “Why don’t you just lay down for a few minutes and see if it goes down. If not, I have a cure disease potion around here somewhere…” He then got up after piling them all back on, rummaging through his shelves stocked with an astounding amount of alchemical books, ingredient chests, and potion bottles. ‘Controlled chaos’ as Voryn would say, though Nerevar could never make sense of it. But right now he was more than content to just lay there in the pile of pillows and blankets, breathing in nice and deep as his body started to go from uncomfortably hot to warm and fuzzy.

“I found it,” Voryn kneeled beside him, beckoning Nerevar to sit up properly. He groaned in annoyance; he just got fucking comfortable, now Voryn wanted him to sit up? But one look at Voryn’s eyes told Nerevar it was just for his own good, so reluctantly and without much fuss he sat up slightly, letting Voryn tilt his head and press the potion bottle to his lips. It briefly occurred to him he could do this himself but… Well, Voryn was just being a loyal retainer and friend right? Ever loyal, doting Voryn.. Nerevar found that trait of his kind of endearing.

“Normally when I have to give you medicine you make such a fuss,” Voryn smiled softly, “You’re being a good boy right now, I see.” At the ‘good boy’ comment Nerevar’s breath hitched slightly as he sunk back onto the bed, Voryn piling more of the blankets and pillows around him so he was comfortable. Then, a hand threaded into his hair, rubbing at his scalp just like Nerevar liked, making him positively melt, mewling and moaning softly in pure delight.

“That’s it…” Voryn purred, “Such a good boy, aren’t you…?” Voryn then laid down beside him, nuzzling against him, his hands brushing across Nerevar’s chest and stomach in soft strokes…

Ah, Voryn was scenting him, something that wasn’t unwelcomed in the slightest. It was nice; being wrapped up in that warm, musky scent was only making him feel better. People would be able to smell Voryn on him after all, all over his body from his clothes to his hair and skin… Then again, he felt like he never wanted to leave the comfort of Voryn’s bed right now. He was content to just lay there being tended to, Voryn nuzzling him, feeding him, guarding him…

“Oh Neht,” Voryn buried his face in Nerevar’s neck, breathing in his scent directly, before his tongue swiped at a scent gland. That caught Nerevar’s attention, making him moan louder, squirming in Voryn’s arms.

“Hey--” Nerevar protested weakly. His mind felt fuzzy, but he knew that was crossing a line at least. “Watch it.”

“You smell divine…” Voryn purred. “Nice and sweet…” He resumed the licking, leaving Nerevar whining softly, his hips moving in small circles until Voryn pressed his hips firmly against Nerevar’s ass, holding him still with a growl. His cunt throbbed at that, suddenly overcome with the realization he was empty right now, so fucking empty--he needed something in him. Right now. Fingers, a toy, a cock, just something filling him up--

Then, Voryn was pulling away suddenly, jerking his hands as though he was burned. Nerevar looked up at him confused and dazed, Voryn’s face flushed red.

“You’re in heat.” Voryn murmured, suddenly realizing what was going on. Nerevar, however, took a few moments to process his words, before anxiety bubbled up inside him.

“No I’m not--” He wasn’t the type to go into heat smelling an alpha. He had never done so before, and he wasn’t due for his heat for a few months anyways. Besides, when he was in heat he was nesting and--

Nerevar glanced at the pillows and blankets Voryn had put around him, realizing when he had done so Nerevar felt much more secure and comfortable. He’d been antsy before, paranoid and feeling exposed until the soft, plush walls were around him. He also felt more sensitive to his clothes, feeling warm and aroused--

“I-I hate people touching me in heat,” Nerevar tried to explain quickly, sitting up and panicked. “I can’t be…” That was right, he couldn’t be. He hated being touched during his heat, growling and hissing as the touch was physically painful. But Voryn touching him hadn’t hurt at all, it felt…

Nerevar’s hands were trembling as he got up quickly, tugging the robe shut firmly and making sure the tie was secure, before he took off running for the propylon chamber. He wasn’t thinking clearly, he just knew he needed to not be there anymore. Something was wrong with him after all; very, very wrong with him. He paid no mind to Voryn calling after him, even as his anxiety spiked hearing the concern and anger in his voice; he just kept running through the halls, sprinting past servants and attendants until he made it to the chamber, giving quick orders to send him to Mournhold before he was teleported away.

At the palace, Nerevar didn’t stop to catch his breath either. The air felt cold and stifling as he continued running, sprinting like a mad man until he made it to his room where he swiftly locked the door. He drew the curtains, blocking out the light until it was dark, his anxiety still not ceasing as he curled up on the bed.

His bed felt wrong. Wrong, disgusting, cold, uncomfortable… Even as he moved the blankets and pillows he just felt worse. None of them were as comfortable as Voryn’s bed, covered in his scent… Nerevar tugged the robe off, burying his face in it, whining softly. The scent, despite being musty and strong was so comforting. He never used to find an alpha’s scent so soothing before, why now? Even when he was in heat he’d growl if any alpha even so much as came near his room, so why this? Why now?!

#nerevoryn #nerevar #indoril nerevar #voryn dagoth #dont fucking look at me

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catbooknerd22 · 8 days

Text

ttpd thoughts

loving fortnight

the echos in headphones in fortnight>>>>>

apartment, department rhyme in ttpd is so satisfying

i also love the “im not patti smith” and all the other artist references in ttpd

WAIT IS SHE CALLING THEM TORTURED POETS?????

“you’d kill yourself if i ever leaved” (ttpd) thats so fucking toxic bro

i love the beginning of mbobhft

why are so many of these songs so sad/hurtful/heartbreaking and yet the tone makes them a bop

“fuck it if i cant have us” (down bad) why is this kinda relatable and also not-

lowkey sounds like tay and joes relationship was really toxic

“i stopped cpr / after all, it’s no use” (so long, london) - it’s def a reference OR the reason for the heartbeat in you’re losing me

i need to play so long london and london boy at the same time and i need for them to match (they prob wont but its a NEED)

the intro to daddy i love him sounds like miss americana eras tour version/the opening of the eras tour when the clock is ticking and then the montage of “it’s been a long time coming” starts

but daddy i love him ??? omg

love the florence and the machine verse in florida

so many florida references in the beginning of the album? then they stop after florida??? tay what is this

also several references to texas

note that drug problems have been mentioned several times - “my drug is my baby?” - was taylor’s love/obsession with joe like a drug problem and it ruined their relationship that way??

“who’s afraid of little old me? they should be” jaw DROPPED

“i’m so depressed i act like it’s my birthday… every day” (icdiwabh)

icdiwabh is a bop

ICDIWABH IS MY SONG STOP- “i’m so obsessed with him but he avoids me like the plague”

icdiwabh also sounds similar to you’re losing me around 2:03

“i was grinning like i’m winning, i was hitting my marks, cause i can do it withe a broken heart” sounds similar to “no one wanted to play with me as a little kid, so i’ve been scheming like a criminal ever since”

“i’m a real tough kid, i can handle my shit, said baby gotta fake it til you make it and i did” —OMG????

the breath at the beginning of the smallest man who ever LIVED????? LAST KISS TAYLOR IS BACK

taylor explicitly saying fuck you to the person who the song is about- (joe?)- she’s never done that before holy shit

“i dont miss what we had but will someone give a message to tsmwel” - “you go talk to your friends talk to my friends talk to me”

“once your queen had come” - SHITTING ON BRITISH PPL??? LMAO

TSMWEL CHORUS???? STOP-

she is destroying joe

“who are we to fight the alchemy” - LIKE HOW IF YOU HAVE TOO MUCH OF THE CHEMICAL FORM OF LOVE YOU BECOME OBSESSIVE??? IS THAT WHAT HAPPENED WITH THEIR RELATIONSHIP??? OMG

clara bow is giving the lucky one x mean

“you look like taylor swift in this light” what????

i love her for name dropping herself

“old habits die SCREAMING” the instrumental there??? genius songwriting. it sounds like screaming

the black dog entirely is incredible

i relate to imgonnagetyouback so much its a lil concerning

wait so high school is actually really cute i hope its about travis

it has so many references too i love it

also, its relatable

another fuck you in thanK you aIMee?? woah

wait actually thanK you aIMee is really cute

but also toxic damn

but what is up with the capitalized letters? KIM??? i wonder if that’s the name of the person who the song is actually about - WAIT DIDNT TAYLOR HAVE BEEF WITH KIM KARDASHIAN??? IS IT ABOUT HER OMG

(the prophecy) - “slow is the quicksand” kinda parallels “green was the color of the grass” in invisible string, it’s the same writing style

“even statues crumble if they’re made to wait” - “i feel like my castle is crumbling down”

the amount of parallels - im sure there are some i haven’t noticed, too, jesus

the prophecy hurts

the bolter is giving elementary school girl who can run really fast and all the boys are in love with her

#taylor swift #the tortured poets department #ttpd

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effervescentdragon · 2 years

Note

could i bother you with some nigelio maybe? something happy 💛

i dont know how happy this is anon, but i tried 💛

He remembers the happy days with the most clarity.

(He refuses to remember the rest. It weighs on him, like a Formula One car does when it turns in the air and you land the wrong side up. It also feels just as hopeless, just as terrifying, as the car always does, after.)

They drive along the Cote d'Azure. He lets Elio drive, because he knows the roads better, and there is less chance of them getting lost somewhere. (He lets Elio drive because it's easier to watch him from the passenger seat, without worrying about the road.) His hair is wind-swept, his eyes hidden behind the sunglasses, but the smiley lines around his eyes are still visible from where Nigel is observing him.

Italian music plays on the radio. Nigel doesn't understand it properly, but it feels loving, and a bit melancholic. It suits Elio, Nigel thinks. It suits his soul, and it soothes mine. Elio sings along sometimes, turning to Nigel, repeating certain words with a smile that seems to hold secrets, loat in translation.

Nigel doesn't mind. He would let Elio have all the secrets for himself, never to be shared and never to be told, if only Nigel gets to keep Elio himself.

He looks at Elio's fingers on the wheel. They move quickly, exchanging the ivory of the piano keys for the supple leather of the car. Nigel doesn't really understand how someone can love both - racing and piano. They seem diametrally opposed to Nigel, the roughness and the speed of the track compared to the delicate softness of the music.

(He will think on it later, and he will think on it a lot. He will spend many sleepless nights thinking about everything, and he will come to a conclusion that they are not that different. Both racing and piano demand high levels of creativity, determination, and precision. But the most important conclusion he will come to is that they are both art in its truest form, and they are both beautiful, and it takes an extraordinary man to master them both. And if Nigel were to choose one word to describe Elio, it would be extraordinary.)

Elio laughs suddenly, and turns the wheel. Nigel yelps in surprise, reaching for the grab handle. That only makes Elio laugh harder, and Nigel can't begrudge him any happiness, so he laughs along. He doesn't mind being the joke, if it means Elio is laughing freely, laugh lines prominent around his eyes and lips.

He drives them off the main road, and the scenery opens before them as they descend on a small path, barely wide enough for one car. The vegetation thickens, then dwindles, until they are on a wild beach. Elio stops the car, basically jumping out of the car. There is nobody and nothing around them, the beach hidden from the rest of the world by the cliffs on both sides, the road obviously only there for those who know where to search for it.

Nigel follows him out of the car, still looking. The wind blows, but it's still too hot, the heat of summer unrelenting.

"Come on, Leone," Elio calls, halfway to the sea already. "It's too hot not to go for a swim," he says, and pulls his shirt off. Nigel knows his blush is evident when Elio laughs again.

"You Brits and your modesty." He throws his shirt on the ground, then carefully puts down his sunglasses. "Come on," he says, unbuttoning his pants, and Nigel thinks I would follow him anywhere.

He tries not to get distracted by Elio's naked skin, which shines like gold in the warm August sun. Elio must take pity on him, because he turns around and starts walking to the water, affording Nigel some privacy. He takes of his clothes quickly, trying not to think on why this is different than the million times he's changed himself on track before his whole team.

"Come on, Nigel!"

When he turns, Elio is already in the water. The sun shines on him, and Nigel is blinded by his beauty and his smile. If he were a poet, he may know how to describe the sight before him. Bit he is not, he never was, so all he can think is that if the sun had a favorite, Elio would be it.

"Yes, yes," he yells back, walking towards Elio. "Is it cold?"

Elio inclines his head, contemplative.

"Come in and see," is what he settles on, and Nigel can't help but chuckle. "I wouldn't trust you with the assessment anyway," Nigel says, and Elio smiles, and Nigel doesn't even mind that the water is colder than he expected. Not if Elio smiles like that.

They swim, racing each other to some imaginary line, fighting about who won. They race back, and fight about who came first again. They laugh a lot, and fight some more, and splash each other like children. Elio tries to drown Nigel, but Nigel has the advantage of a bigger stature and the disadvantage of not wanting to hurt Elio even in jest, so they only end up drinking too much salty water than is probably advisable.

When they get tired, they just float on the water. Their fingers touch occasionally, as if to reassure one another that Yes, I am here; I haven't floated away; I'm not leaving you alone.

They come out of the water eventually, shivering a bit. Elio finds a towel in his suitcase, and they share it until they are dry enough to put their clothes back on. They sit on the beach and bask in the last rays of sun, laughing about how they won't make their reservations.

"You know," Elio says, staring into the setting sun. "If I could choose a perfect day, it would be this."

The sun paints his face red; somehow it suits him. He looks like a warrior of old, or maybe one of those old Renaissance paintings, or maybe both. Nigel doesn't want to leave, even though he is hungry and tired. He wants to lay down and sleep on the beach and look at the stars. He wants to stay with Elio in this moment forever.

"Me too," he says. "Me too."

Elio smiles at him, and Nigel's heart skips a beat. That is nothing new to him when it comes to Elio, though, so he can ignore it. Elio closes his eyes and turns to the sun, determined to soak up every last ray.

Nigel only looks at him, from the side, from the periphery, and wishes he were a poet, so that he could explain the feelings that pervade his whole being.

(He will wish for that after, more than ever. He will wish he had the words to describe that day, because Beautiful is lacking, Lovely doesn't even begin to cover it, and Nice may be the understatement of the century. Most of all, he will wish for words to explain Elio, because, well. Because even Everything still feels inadequate, even after all these years.)

"I will remember this day for the rest of my life," Elio says with a determination Nigel knows to be true. "You must know this."

Nigel's chest feels heavy. He swallows the words that bubble up in his throat, and nods.

"So will I, Elio. I know I will."

They sit on the beach and watch the day turn into night, and listen to the waves crash against the shore, and just breathe, their fingers a breadth apart on the sand.

(What they didn't know, and never will, is that both their breathing and their heart-beats were in sync. What Nigel doesn't know, and never will, is that Elio spoke the truth. What Elio doesn't know, and never will, is that Nigel did too.

What neither of them knew, and never will, is that if one of them reached even an inch, they might have had only a bit more time.)

#okay so this isnt really happy but in my defense im feeling soft #idk this is my first time writing them im sorry i hope you like this anon #my writing #classic f1 #f1 rpf #nigelio #effervescentdragonwrites #id call this soft but like this is canon compliant #drabble #i guess

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ninjigma · 2 years

Text

Part 1/6 - Next

Track: 'One Less Day (Dying Young)' - Rob Thomas

CT-05-1044 has opened a secure chat channel CT-05-1044 has added CT-05-1008

CT-05-1044: There. Got it?

CT-05-1008: Perfect 1! This is going to be great!

CT-05-1044: He types instead of saying to my face a foot away.

CT-05-1008 has added CT-05-2101 CT-05-1008 has added CT-05-1804 CT-05-1008 has added CT-05-1408 CT-05-1008 has added CT-05-1210

CT-05-2101: This is why you needed to see 1 as soon as we landed on Coruscant?

CT-05-1008: No no 6 CT-05-1008: This is only part of it

CT-05-2101: Of course it is

CT-05-1008 has changed CT-05-1044 name to 1 CT-05-1008 has changed CT-05-2101 name to 6 CT-05-1008 has changed CT-05-1804 name to 3 CT-05-1008 has changed CT-05-1408 name to 4 CT-05-1008 has changed CT-05-1210 name to 2 CT-05-1008 has changed CT-05-1008 name to 5

6: The fact that you did those so out of order is going to kill me

3: I will fly there myself and smack you 5. That is a threat and a promise

4: You know some of us are trying to sleep right?

2: Liar

1: Hush hush. 5 said he has an announcement. And despite basically squishing me right now he refuses to just say it.

5: Because this is important 5: I want everyone to hear together 5: Ready?

6: 5 seriously, now I am going to smack you

5: There is no 5

5 has changed 5 name to Treble

Treble: There is only I, Treble, your favorite vod.

2: The high of excitement is very quickly being destroyed by your boasting

Treble: Aweeee come on Treble: I'm just really exciteddddd

3: 1 you're with him right? Mind smacking him and then hugging him for us?

1: Way ahead of you.

4: Wait! What's that mean? 4: I mean, love ya vod, but I am positive you are just misspelling trouble and hoping no one notices

Treble: Hey! Treble: It means more then just that

4: 'Just' he says

1: He's pouting now.

Treble: I will stop snuggling you 1 Treble: I will go back to 6

6: It is definitely a play on trouble 6: He almost killed the ARC troopers last battle 6: And the Clone Force 99 sniper

3: !!!

Treble: No I didn't!

2: Sounds about right

Treble: Nooooo

3: We just skimming by that fun fact?

1: Please don't make him cry, people are already staring in my barracks.

4: I am sure the Guard is loving the entertainment

6: Fine, but only because I am not having him coming back here crying 6: Treble is something ARC Fives was talking about right? About music?

Treble: ... Treble: You are all lucky I am so excited about this Treble: But 6 is absolutely right Treble: It's a music note. A treble clef. It's at the start of a line of music

1: Oh! Like you're a song about to be written!

4: And here comes the poet

2: Says the mermaid

3: Says the butterfly

4: They are called sirens!

2: You wish you were a butterfly!

6: I don't know any other way this could have gone

1: Congratulations Treble.

Treble has renamed the chat Wannabes

6: DONT YOU DARE SHOW 1 THAT SONG

#yep its a chat fic #chat ficlet?#probably a thing #introductions #I promise the numbers makes sense later #so do those CT numbers #because i can't do anything without meaning #clone trooper treble #my ocs #clone wars #promise squad #promise au #my writing #my art

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stitchwork-madness26 · 3 years

Text

BIRTHDAY HEADCANNONS 1 OF 4

Characters: hank,MAG!hank,sanford,deimos,dedmos, and 2BDamned

Notes:my birthday is coming soon (sep. 8th) So i figured i should make a birthday headcannon thing with all characters. I wont fit them all in one go so ill go for 4 (technically 6 if you wanna count the bonuses) characters as of now.

All are romantic headcannons though sorry if you wanted platonic

Heres madness combat characters celebrating your birthday!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hank

You probably need to tell him your birthday. I feel he either wouldn't know how to ask or just don't think birthdays are a big deal (its mainly the 1st option though)

When it does come around he would try and get you some kind of gift

Hes not much of a baker and Nevada is a wasteland so theres no bakery to just get a cake from

So a gift is the next best thing he can do

It would be something he randomly found on a raid like a fancy enough looking knife or a golden gun

If he was able to he can find things thats not weapons like music boxes and decent clothes

He usually just gives it to you in a bag with a quiet "happy birthday"

He's trying his best

Bonus:

Mag!hank

When your birthday comes after he becomes a mag he would probably just sit beside you silently and suddenly rests his head on top of yours

Gently cuz his metal jaw

OH MEH GAWD HE CAN PURR!!!! You kinda already knew that but its such a rare occurrence!

Kinda hard for him to say happy birthday to you so that form of affection is all he got right now

The 1st and last time he gave you a gift was a bloody shirt he got from a grunt he just killed.

He still tries

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sanford

You should probably let him know on when your birthday is too. Mainly because he forgot birthdays exist from all the constant killing sprees

Definitely bakes a cake for you, decently enough even if there may or may not be some ingredients missing. Not his fault though some things can be hard to find in nevada due to bandits

Will sing happy birthday to you when he gives you the cake, but if it makes you uncomfortable he just says happy birthday and say he loves you

Lots of birthday snuggles

Gave you a fancy looking hook (that's totally not at all similar to his own so you both can match) as a gift

Kinda worried he didn't make your birthday special enough at 1st

Just assure him with some kisses and he'll be fine 😊

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Deimos

He outright asks you out of the blue one day

When you told him the date he just nods and wanders away

You figured thats the end but in reality he is planning so much, he wanted to make you feel super special on your birthday

So when the day comes he starts off with some teasing "you feel old yet babe?"

Course he does stop it after a bit

He did ATTEMPT to make a cake but like hank hes not a baker. So it either was flavorless or burnt to charcoal

That does not stop him though as he makes up for it with his gift, he made you a little robot pet (dog,cat, or other, its up to you 😊)

Makes little jokes to make you laugh even tried to make hank fall for the updog joke to make you laugh

He failed

He also stopped smoking for the day because he knows you dislike the smell of cigarette smoke

Ends the day with him wishing you a happy birthday and kisses

Bonus:

Dedmos

Almost the same but makes heart shapped rocks for you

Also cant tease or tell jokes because his entire mouth is rock now so he does the next best thing to make you laugh

✨charades✨

Also cant kiss you so he just gently presses his forehead against yours as a substitute

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2BDamned

The topic of birthdays just randomly popped up during a casual conversation

He does ask if you like or don't like birthdays. He doesn't want to make a huge deal out of it if you dont like them

If you dont like birthdays he just acts like it's any other day, with a few kisses and compliments here and there

If you do like birthdays he will try his best to make it a great day for you

Once again not much of a baker but he will make coffee and breakfast for you in the morning

Compliments on how beautiful you look and more

Did not have the best of luck at finding you a gift.

He found pencils though and paper and tried to make something for you with that

DIS MAN IS A FUCKING POET! (You cant change my mind)

Ends the day with snuggles and "i love you"s

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blushblushheadcanons · 3 years

Note

I love your Yandere headcannons! Can I request Cashew , Boss , and Felix as Yandere please? 💓💓

ofc!! I dont really like Boss so im sorry if it comes out a little out of character ausnsj

Also I'm really sorry but I could not come up with anything for Felix that guy is way too chill, if you want any other character you can always request again!

Also, usual TW: stalking, physical abuse, delusional behavior, etc etc yall know the drill

♡ Cashew & Boss Yandere Headcanons ♤

Cashew

One word: obsessive

After reading about you, fantazing about you... He daydreams about how being with you would be like

Except, at one point, that's all he can think of. Every single moment, his mind is plagued with toughts of you

After all, he's always been a hopeless romantic, hoping to live the Jane Austen tm fantasy he always invisioned im his head

So after finding those notes about you, he thought that was it! It couldn't just have been a coincidence! You're both mean to be!

Except... He's way too shy to make an advance. I mean, can you blame him? You're so perfect in his eyes, so ethereal... How could he live up to that?

He didn't mean to stalk you, he really didn't, but he found himself doing exactly that while following you around, trying to muster up to courage to at least say hi. Last thing he notices, he's watching you sleep through your window

Feels slightly guilty about it. But, if its for love, then it's okay in his eyes

Actually believes you're both soulmates. If he did manage to talk to you, he wouldn't take no for an answer. You just need some time to come to terms with it, that's all!

Leaves you notes and gifts in places he knows you visit a lot (and trust me, he knows all of them) which always seem a little bit too accurate. Suddently that one thing you have been meaning to buy but couldn't because of your budget showed up at your doorstep. After you casually mention to a friend that you're craving sweets, someone anonymously delivers a box of chocolates to you at your work/school not even a few hours later. It would be endearing if you didn't find it slightly startling

He tries to talk to you, but you make him so so nervous. He can feel himself physically swoon over you, his heart pratically shifiting

Hopefully you don't mind having a secret admirer

Danger level: 0/10

Boss

I'd love to say he would kill someone for you, but this man probably hasnt thrown a punch in his entire life. just look at him. I could drag his ass easy.

Uses the "being mean" method because he doesn't know how to deal with his feelings and mistakes his affections for hatred. After all, love and hate are one and the same. So would any greek poet agree, looking at how deeply Ares and Aphrodite were in love with each other. They're both darkness and devouring, just in different ways.

And God, how he hated you.

After firing you, he thought that was it. That would put a stop to whatever he was feeling, since he wouldn't have to see you anymore.

Big mistake.

He starts missing you almost instantly. Have things always been this dull while you were away?

Messages you the next day. He knows that "you should have come to work even after I fired you" sounds absolutely ridiculous, he's not that oblivious, but he can't think of anything better. He just needs you there again.

Turn down any of his advances (no matter how kindly you do so) and he'll have a tantrum

Screaming, breaking things, calling you names. I don't think he's above hiting you, either. He has never been known for beint patient, after all.

After everything he did for you, you still treat him like this? You're lucky he even looks at you. He can have so much better and still settled for you. Maybe if you weren't so ungrateful, he wouldn't have to get so harsh.

If you just play along, he's actually quite passive. Sure, he gets angry about a lot of things, very easily, but not at you

The people close to you aren't exactly in danger, either. Again, this little bitch boy couldn't kill someone even if he tried

He does get jealous though. Very easily. So keep that in mind, because the consequences will fall on you.

Danger level: 6/10

#blush blush #blush blush game #bb #blush blush x reader #blush blush game x reader #blush blush headcanons #bb cashew #bb boss #ray.writes

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littlenahsstuff · 3 years

Text

In love, I swear.

A/n Literally my first time writing actual fanfiction. This might be a flaming dumpster fire idk. I will persevere and cringe later, but for now, enjoy.

supreme!Cordelia Goode x reader

TW:nothing much, just a big old fluffernutter sandwich. A little angst. Swears I guess.

Synopsis: Cordelia has just recruited you to be a counselor at Robicheauxs and it's safe to say you are head over heels for the supreme. Unfortunately, you aren't the one to tell her.

You always thought that you weren't too special of a witch, you had the basic witchy spells down and specialized in the people who struggled on the inside... but in a more witchy sense. You also helped the witches who needed to get their powers more developed or who ones that are just behind in school. A sort of glorified counselor you suppose. It's sorta funny, especially since you aren't the most confident, how you can talk to all of the girls. When it boils down to it you are just a witchy gal searching for love. Specifically Cordelia's. It could never happen though.

Your love life wasn't the only area you lacked in before Robicheauxs, you had been struggling to find a job suited for your interests. Let's just say that you have a lifetime ban from one of the Mcdonalds in Louisiana. Fire and grease doesn't mix.

Of course, if it wasn't for dear, sweet, precious, Cordelia, you would be living on the streets. Luckily that didnt happen and so here you are today, three months in to your teaching position at Robicheauxs.

Oh, the moment, "You're hired. I look forward to expanding the academy's family and getting to know you better especially," left the Supremes lips, the better off you were.

And yet, even with all of the joy that comes with finally getting paid, there were the challenges as well. For starters, everyone was extremely nice to you, even though you kept mostly to yourself, there was this one person that made this heaven more hellish. Madison the bitch witch Montgomery.

You had been warned by Zoe, your closest confidante in this new place and also Madisons freaking girlfriend, that she was no pleasant peach. Never in all of your doubtful thoughts, had how bad it actually was crossed your mind. It was never the cockiness that got to you, you had a different appreciation for it than most. Found the confidence refreshing almost. No, no no no no. It was in fact, that she was constantly trying to dig up dirt on you.

"You're too much of a goody two shoes y/n," she once stated with a glare. The same day you had heard Zoe squabbling about something and your name came up. Your name and the fact Madison had stolen your wallet to look at your license. It turned up later on your bed stand.

Madison's a lover of Zoe and drama you've come to find out.

It's harmless though really, you dont mind the extra bit of attention that comes with it. Its flattering so no need to complain to anybody, especially not Cordelia.

Cordelia, mmm, yeah now shes the biggest threat here. She is the reason you got this job and might be the reason you lose it.

She once caught you with your doodle journal. It was a harmless question,

"Y/n, what're you drawing?" She looked over your shoulder. You almost jumped out of your skin and your sketchbook went flying.

"Oh dear, are you alright?" She worried her lips a bit. Her big, plump, kissable lips. Come on Y/n, get out of it.

"Yes," you squeaked. Sinking farther into the sofa. She chuckled her beautiful chuckle and sat on the couch arm.

"So, what was my favorite school counselor drawing just then?" She questioned. Glancing to the thrown book.

Your face went red.

"Uh-" you paused, come on you're making it a bigger deal than it has to be, "you." You couldn't look into her eyes.

She gazed at you at you and it felt like a hole was being burned into your skull.

"Okay," Cordelia said, leaving it at that. Stood up and made to walk away.

"Wait!" She paused and turned back to you, seeing you scramble to get your sketchbook.

"Yes?" Her eyebrows raised in surprise.

"I- don't you want to see it?" You said and you slapped yourself mentally for about the hundredth time she walked in.

She smiled softly at you, "Of course, I thought you didn't. You looked scared to death, like bambi."

"Okay," you flipped back towards the page and cringed. It wasn't your best peice. You could never capture her beauty right.

Her eyes scanned over it, widening before squinting with her grin.

"It's so good!" She gasped.

"Yes, that is Cordelia Goode," you joked in a monotone manner. She slapped your shoulder jokingly, making you snort.

"You nerd, I didn't mean it that way. Either way, you did a fantastic job! I wished I looked as good as you make me seem," she muttered the last bit, bit you heard it. It saddens you to remember the damage Fiona did.

"Hey, Cordy," you started. You realized that you used a nickname that Madison did, but she doesn't seem to care.

"You know what I think? I think that you're wrong. You see I just can't for the life of me get your soft proud loving smile right. Your eyes aren't as warm and glowing as they are in reality. I couldn't manage to picture the right placement for those worry lines or crowd feet you have. You might not like them, but to me they show that you worry and care and that you laugh at the stupidest of things, which is a trait I adore. You are more perfect than any Davinci or Van Gogh," you say. You don't like when your friends feel bad about themselves.

Cordelia's tearing up a bit and wiles it away. "Didn't know you were a goddamn poet too?" She joked with a giggle, "thanks y/n, sometimes I need to hear something like that."

"No problem Cordelia," I can't help it, you're my muse, is what you want to say.

"Well, I have some paperwork, but it was nice to see ya," she hurriedly excused and rushed out.

Unbeknownst to you, Madison was watching. She knew exactly how to get dirt on you now. She had something all along.

The next week you spent daydreaming about Cordy...elia, you couldnt help but go back to that conversation. You needed to be more discrete, way more descrete.

So you made sure to draw your crush no more. That didn't change the fact you forgot to destroy the evidence in writing.

You had slept in a little too late, so in a rush you were to get to your office. The reason you had being you daydreaming about Cordelia and yours faux life together a little too long.

A bunch of new juicy stuff for Madison as she snatched it from your bedside table. It was too easy really.

She opened it up to the first page. It acted like a normal diary, just stating checklists of things to do and things you did. The size was fairly large, so skipping a few pages till she got to the juicy stuff and the part where you actually did know Cordy wasn't harmful.

It was a barf fest of emotion. "Oh Cordelia is so awesome, oh I'm so lucky to work with Cordelia, oh my, I won't ever get a chance with Cordelia, she's the supreme!"

"Ew," Madison groaned, whipping out her phone.

Then she found it, the goldmine of confessions. It was all the way in the back, meaning you had wrote it recently.

"Dear, myself

Cordelia today caught me drawing a picture of herself and said something I didn't particularly enjoy listening about herself. I can't believe Fiona would send her into such a deep hatred of herself that even with her gone she's hurting. She's no mother. Cordelia is the love of my life, even if I'm not hers, she deserves all the love I can give. She's not broken, but she just needs someone to love her and I do. I promise to give her as much love as possible without her finding out what kind it really is, I'm in love, I swear.

Sincerely, Y/N."

So she snapped a picture of the page.

After school was over Cordelia was not expecting Madison to barge into her office. Let alone with something regarding YOU of all people.

"Cordy, I've got something to tell you about y/n!" Madison sang out, waving her phone in front of Cordelia's face as she sat on top her desk.

Madison was just careless with others and too carried g about herself. It was the perfect storm. The only person who could ever take it too far to just prove a point. That there was something wrong with you.

If Madison Montgomery had taken one moment to actually think about it, she was just jealous. Jealous that another person at the coven was better than her to Cordelia. She was one spoiled bitch growing up. Guess it backfired.

"What?" Cordelia questioned in concern, "Is she okay? Madison what did you do to her!?" Her thoughts raced, Madison's pranks often went a little too far. She did kill Misty.

"Now now Cordy, don't get your panties in a twist. Here read this," Madison demanded to her supreme, she shoved it into her face and Cordelia grabbed it.

Her eyes expected headlines on the news or a mugshot, but she realized it was just your writing.

"Madison," she warned.

"Come on, I know you can read!" Madison poked Cordelia's forehead, prompting a slap from the Supreme.

Ms. Goode exhaled, "Fine."

Her eyes fluttered over the words, brows furrowing with every sentence. She couldn't comprehend, could she read?? It seemed to her as if her brain was creating what she wanted to see, but no, you wrote it. Unfortunately.

Everything's silent. Then the thought flits across her head, you like her back.

"In love, I swear."

Oh she's mad. Not at you, no, she could never. Madison on the other hand better,

"Get out of my office right now," Cordelia whispered. Madison's smile faltered.

"What, didn't you want to know your feelings are reciprocated? Come on, I'm just trying to get you two to speed up the process." Madison hopped of the desk and sauntered out.

What has she done.

Cordelia was wracked with guilt for awhile, with no way to tell you either. How does one even go about telling someone they read their deepest darkest secrets. How!?

She couldn't, so she did what she could. She pulled away from you and into her work. All of those lunches spent together stopped. The nights in the green house gone. Reading together on the weekends by the fire, gone.

And it left you empty. You had no idea what you did, but you must've done something.

So you decided to confront her, you hadn't gone much sleep since, so you were literally and figuratively tired of all of this shit.

Your knock on the door startled Cordelia, but your presence startled her even more. Both of you looked like wrecks.

"Oh, Y/n! Please, come in," Cordelia gestured and you did, closing the door behind you.

It was then that you finally broke down.

"What did I do Delia!?" You sobbed, falling to your knees. Yes it was dramatic and not even you expected it but you were holding your emotions for so long.

"Oh," Cordelia briskly moved over to you, concern painted on her face. She was watching you carefully, you looked so fragile. Just like she had felt at times.

"I'm sorry," you whimpered, "What did I do?" Her hand tilted your head towards her, but you still couldn't look into her brown eyes, opting for the floor. If you did, you probably wouldn't be able to look away.

"Y/n look at me sweetie," the nicknames never failed to make your heart soar. It was your weakness, your eyes met and they were glued there.

"What did I do?"

"Nothing nothing!" She took a deep breath, "I saw a page from your journal."

You froze, terror crept up your spine.

"Oh my god. Um Cordelia I am so sorry, you, wow I- god I'm so creepy! It's perfectly fine if you want to not be my friend or fire me. I didn't do it to be weird, it was how I expressed myself. I was trying to hide it I promise, i dont even know what happened!?"

"I'm gonna kill Madison, faster than my mother did," Cordelia groaned.

"Wh-" your brain malfunctions. Is-Is Cordelia kissing you? Right now?

Indeed she was and just like you dreamed about, her lips were so soft and her kiss gentle.

Maybe Madison could be forgiven... but not without a harsh talk.

"In love, I swear," she repeated in a whisper against your lips.

#sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #cordelia goode x reader

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sinnergetreadymp3 · 3 years

Text

CHAMERON FIC CHAMERON FIC CHAMERON FIC

Uhhhhh I feel like I should give this a title but I have no idea what to call so uh, nevermind !!

Anyways,I finally finished the fic I said I was writing like,a month ago lol. All my Chameron stans out there this one's for u,I rlly hope at least one person enjoys this,I rlly enjoyed writing it !! Ok sappy stuff outta the way,here it is:

As rain pounded against the window Charlie sent what was probably the thousandth crumpled ball of paper across the room.

"Jesus Charlie,is your arm not getting tired?"

Charlie smirked at that, clearly preparing to make a dirty minded joke,but a thoroughly exhausted Richard Cameron was already one step ahead.

"You know what,forget I asked, you're gross."

Getting up from the seat at his desk and ignoring an indignant retort from Charlie, Cameron thought of the rest of his friends,out for the weekend. Todd and Neil celebrating their one year anniversary, Meeks and Pitts embarking on a two day road trip,for what they still claimed to be, entirely platonic reasons (although the rest of the poets were all too aware of the almost palpable romantic tension between them). Even Knox had found something to do with himself on this miserable Friday night.

And here Cameron was,stuck in his dorm with nothing but stacks of extra homework and his obnoxious roommate to keep him company.

Speaking of that obnoxious roommate, "Oh come on Cam,you're not seriously going to bed already,it's barely eight!"

"Shut up Dalton,I'm tired."

Refusing to admit defeat, Charlie sprung from his own bed into Cameron's, attempting to wrestle the poor boy from his comfortable position.

"Charlie,get off you psycho!" Cameron managed to get out, already laughter threatening to give away just how welcome his friend's childish antics were.

After a few more minutes of "fooling around" as Charlie insisted on calling it (mostly because of how profusely it made Cameron blush),the two boys lay breathless beside each other,trying desperately to think of something else to do that would ward off impending boredom.

After a few moments of comfortable silence,Charlie suggested,looking expectantly towards the ginger, "Wanna go to the cave?"

With extreme,mind numbing boredom as motivation, it was inevitable that Cameron would say yes. It certainly helped that Charlie was gazing at him with those oh-so convincing doe eyes of his. Charlie Dalton and his stupid,gorgeous eyes. And his stupid,gorgeous smile,which Cameron was abso definitely not thinking about as he got up and grabbed his coat.

The two boys trudged through the woods,bickering lightly when Cameron complained of the cold that Charlie apparently couldnt feel at all,but always with an unusually friendly air between them. Before long they were sat together in the middle of the cave,sharing an apple that Cameron had managed to salvage from somewhere (a feat Dalton was of course impressed by),and trading stories of girls and parties galore. In Cameron's case, the stories of girls were few and the parties were from years long before even middle school,so Charlie did most of the talking.

After a while though,the boys came to discussing their friends,and the luck they all seemed to have in finding each other so easily. Charlie, ever the romantic,made no waste of his extensive vocabulary,tediously lamenting on all the opportunities of love he had missed and the everlasting loneliness he was doomed to,all because his dashing knight in shining armour would never come to find him and-

"Why dont *you* just find somebody?"

Charlie,still sprawled dramatically over a rock ,and mildly offended at the interruption,indignantly questioned "What do you mean?"

"What I said? You dont just have to wait around for somebody to come find you and fall madly in love. Why don't *you* just find somebody?"

He thought for a moment,taken aback by the ginger's harsh words,but eventually decided to humout him for a moment.

"And where exactly do you suggest I find him then, hm?"

Cameron shifted in his seat,not expecting to be taken seriously and certainly not prepared to be giving advice. Especially not *this* kind of advice. Especially not to *charlie*.

"Well,uh," he looked up to see the other boy looking at him expectantly,with that ever-present smirk on his face that, oddly enough,made Cameron feel a little more comfortable.

"Maybe,you could,I don't know, consider that the guy you're looking for has been here the whole time?"

"Wow Cam,Pittsie and Meeks' radio must've really gotten to you. All those love songs have turned you into a big softie." Charlie joked,grinning and nudging Cameron playfully.

Through a soft laugh,Cameron continued, "No I'm serious man,I think you're making this whole love thing way harder for yourself. I mean- and be honest with me, what's actually wrong with the guys at our school?"

"Other than the fact that about three quarters of them are raging heterosexuals?"

Laughing again,Cameron replied "yeah,other than that."

After about zero seconds of careful consideration,he had come to a conclusion, "Well,I guess nothing,but I dont know? Cameron, I don't see how this changes-"

"It *changes* things because clearly you don't anything about half the guys at our school. And you can't write off people you don't even know." At some point, Cameron had gotten up and started pacing around,but with the end of this triumphant speech,he finally sat down,a little closer to the other boy than he had been before.

Charlie looked across at Cameron and was suddenly met with a wave of fondness. Weird,how all it took was to sit and talk for a while before someone you thought you near hated,started to feel like your favorite person in the world. And,was he going completely crazy or Cameron at his most comfortable, without the fear of a teacher lurking nearby,without the stress of constantly trying to prove himself,was he... A little..... attractive??

All at once,Charlie made a decision,partly to try and prove himself wrong,but also because hey,if Richard Cameron was the surprise love of his life,what better time to figure it out than right now?

"So how,sir Richard Cameron,do you propose I get to know all these charming suitors?"

Cameron, completely in the dark about Dalton's recent epiphany,was still stubbornly trying to explain how much easier Charlie's love life could be,if only he would let it.

"Well,maybe by actually talking to them? Y'know,kind of like,What we're doing right now."

"So,what you're saying is,*you* could be my knight in shining armor," he said with a smirk.

"Well,that's not what-"

"No,no it's fine,as long as we're talking about this version of you. Regular Cameron is kind of a buzzkill but Cave Cam is actually a kind of.... And I can't believe I'm saying this but,in here,like this...well. You're actually a little hot."

After this, overwhelmingly romantic confession, Charlie was certain he had completely stuffed it,and sure enough,

"Gee Charlie,thanks. Really makes me wanna ride into the sunset with you." To say Cam's ego had been hit was an understatement,but before he could make a swift exit from the cave and lock himself,alone,in his dorm for the rest of the weekend,of course Dalton kept talking.

"God,I'm sorry,that was, I have no idea why I said that. I thought I was being funny but out loud- god I'm so sorry," while he had initially been mad,seeing Charlie fucking Dalton blush (and because of *him* no less) was rather funny. And sure,a little cute. So Cameron decided to hear him out.

"Can I start over? You're not saying anything so I'm gonna start over. I,uh, I really do think you're hot. Like really hot. And not just right now,all the time,like that time we were at rowing practice and I started pushing you around and we ended up on the floor and I saw like,a single sliver of skin because your sweater had ridden up,and I couldn't stop thinking about it all day,which I thought was a little weird but then-"

"Uh,I think I get it,Charlie." Now Cameron was the one blushing.

"Uh,sorry. What I meant was,that I *do* think you're hot l-"

"As you've said"

"Yeah,yeah,but it's more than that. Like,when I realized we'd basically be spending the whole weekend alone together,I was actually sorta excited for that,even though I knew I'd just be sitting by you while you did homework the whole time,I like,wanted to do that. And tonight,I haven't talked like this with anyone who isn't Neil like,ever. What I mean is,I guess,is that,I think that uh,"

Deciding to lighten the mood,Cameron tried for a little sarcasm, "Wow,Dalton, stuttering? I must be superman or something."

"I'm trying to be romantic here Carrot top," Charlie said with a grin,

"Listen,I don't really know what I'm doing here,but I think it might be kinda nice if we tried having a little romantic weekend of our own. Just to try it. If it totally sucks we can pretend it never happened and the others don't have to know about it and-"

"Charlie."

"Yeah?"

"Relax," Cameron said with yet another laugh ,he didn't think he laughed like this since... Well,he couldn't even remember.

So with a radiant smile on his face,he said,"A romantic weekend of our own sounds amazing. Gotta warn you tho I'm not a great kisser."

"Well, lucky for you I am a great teacher," Charlie replied,with a somehow even bigger smile on his face than Cameron's,

"Why are you laughing,I *am* a great teacher!" Unfortunately for Charlie,his indignance only made Cameron laugh harder.

"I'll believe that when I see it."

"If you shut up and stop laughing,maybe you'll get to." After this was all it took to get the ginger to sober up, the look on his face pushed Charlie to make his final,but (in his opinion) most important decision of the night.It was high time he flirt with Cameron way more often (which was *very* difficult to explain to the other poets,at least the first time).

#yh i did proofread it #yh there probably r still mistakes #i was very nervous so #but yh uh #chameron #dps fic #dps chameron fic #dead poets society chameron #idk how to tag things properly if u couldnt tell from my other posts lol #anyway !! bye

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kakiwrites · 3 years

Note

Hi! Can I please request prince Akaasshi falling in love with a sorceress/witch and him just choosing her over the throne and living the life with her? Its ok if u dont want to :) have a great day!

the not-so-perfect prince

Genre: fluff

A keiji akaashi x reader

Synopsis: A time where elves, fairies, dragons, and other wonderful creatures live in harmony, how would you choose to live? On a pirate ship? Making potions? Who do you stumble upon along the journey? A soldier, a poet, a king? Well, that’s for you to decide.

(masterlist is under navigation!)

A/n: hey guys! Been a while since I've written for this series but I'm back! I wanted to try something different and actually write for something I have inspiration for out of the list and this was what I was up to do! Hope you guys enjoy!

Akaashi was always known as the perfect prince.

He was an amazing leader, can use his sword with accuracy and precision, and can sweep girls off of their feet with just a small smile.

But akaashi was more than what they see him for.

He was always overworked and doesn't like to weigh people down. He wants to be on top without disappointing anyone, which was near impossible. Seeing someone upset with him always struck a nerve with him and in turn, made him overthink his decisions.

He was never perfect in his own eyes.

And he was scared people will start to see him the same way he sees himself.

Imperfect.

"May I be excused?" Akaashi asked his advisor, kenma who was staring down at his clipboard for the next thing they have to do. Kenma only nodded at him before walking off to who knows where. Kenma knew more than anyone, how bad the prince's thoughts could get. He needed the fresh air to clear his head.

He walked around the castle gardens to admire the scenery before him, just wanting to clear his thoughts. He then spotted a figure crouched down by the castle wall, caressing a fully bloomed rose. Akaashi walked closer, his footsteps startling the hooded maiden, causing her to stand up, the quick motion causing the hood to slide off her head, revealing her identity.

"oh, I apologize for the intrusion, your highness." you said, plucking the rose and adding it to the assortment of flowers in your other hand. "your roses just looked lovely. I couldn't resist." you added, smiling at the male softly, getting ready to leave him alone.

"wait," Akaashi called out to you, making you turn back to him. He seemed very confused, his thoughts running all over the place. "who are you?" he asked, taking another step forward.

You let out a sigh before you fully turned back toward him. "since you already saw my face, I guess… it wouldn't hurt." you muttered. You stopped in front of the prince, only mere inches separating the two of you. You lent a hand out for him to shake. "I'm (y/n), a sorceress. You must be the famous perfect prince akaashi." you said. Your words made shivers shot up his spine. You see him just the same as the others.

The perfect prince.

But he wasn't at all perfect.

Usually, he would let that little nickname go but this time, his mouth moved before his mind could catch up. "I am definitely not perfect." the prince blurted. He covered his mouth in disbelief. Stupid. You were a stranger. He knew you could care less about what he thought of himself. Still, when he collected his thoughts and finally looked back at you, he saw that you were gazing back at him curiously, your brow arched, your mouth forming a small 'o', silently telling him that you were listening.

"I am far from perfect, (y/n). I'm not the tall, confident man the kingdom knows me for." he ranted, plopping himself down on the cut grass. "but I doubt that you would care to listen to-" he was going to say dejectedly when you chose to sit beside him, looking down at the small bundle of flowers.

"oh please, I have time to listen to your woes. So go on, speak." you interrupted, nudging him with your forearm. Akaashi felt a sense of comfort just being in your presence. So despite his very reserved nature. He decided to tell you all about himself and all of his raging thoughts.

Since then, it's become a regular thing.

You would come into his gardens at the same time, Akaashi would hand you a bouquet he picked from the garden himself and he would talk to you about all of his problems. It started with the small inconveniences to larger problems a mere villager shouldn't know about.

Then it started to go beyond his problems and more about small memories and anecdotes you've experienced as children. It then became about each other's love life and eventually, deepest void of conversation topics, life itself.

"Sometimes, I feel like I should just run away." he said as he watched you sprinkle in the last of your rose petals into the small vial you brought with you.

"then you should," you replied, swirling the mixture around before looking down at the book on your lap. Akaashi's eyes widened. He was never really needed in the kingdom, they were a peaceful land after all. He learned more about you in the past few weeks and now a desire to just… be with you bloomed in his heart. And ever since he heard that you were single from one of your previous chats, the prince wanted to open this topic even more.

You were muttering under your breath, your hands moving as the pinkish water in the vial started to rise and glow an ethereal shade. "then run away with me." he said.

His words shocked you to the point that you almost lost your grip on the vial. You dropped your hand, the water going back to its bland color. You dropped your hand then let out a nervous laugh. "y-you can't be serious-"

"I am 100 percent certain." he cut you off, he placed his hand on your chin then made you look straight into his eyes. "you've been there for me. I'll be there for you. I'll make sure to keep you safe. We can actually see the world and be free… together." he said, capping the vial in your fingers before placing it in the groove of your book. He then took both of your hand in his and kissed them, making your face heat up in disbelief.

The prince you grew to love with each word he spoke was having the same thoughts as you?

"and you really want this? To be together?" you asked just to make sure he was actually telling the truth. The prince nodded his head before he pulled you in and placed a chaste kiss on your lips.

"I'm more than sure."

As soon as he said that, you two of you started to plan out the grand plan to run away with the once perfect prince.

But that's a story for another time.

And that's all for today! Sorry anon for halving the story but if you want a part 2, I'll be happy to make one for you! Requests are open so please don't be shy to leave anything in my ask box! Love you guys 💖💕❤️

General taglist (don’t be shy to comment your tumblr @ below): @tokyoghoose @macaronnv @reogou @midnightangelfox @wumboho @seiijixcia

series taglist (don’t be shy to comment your tumblr @ below!): @astrxrism @kurookinnie @isentsworld @inkumistuki @booksandhoneymilktea

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu #haikyu #keiji akaashi #akaashi #keiji akaashi x reader #akaashi x reader #soldier poet king

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bonesofapoet · 3 years

Text

We Are Unsung Hymns

[jason todd x you]

author’s note: me: im only writing requests this year! also me: what if i explored the more Intense and Darker Themes of being with an anti-hero, especially when they kinda disappear, then show up half dead for the 32nd time? me again: so what im actually saying is due to Recent Events i am once again, projecting onto jason peter todd

p.s. dont judge me for the out of context Shelley quotes + this is a little rusty, i havent written in a hot second. tw blood + injury, alcohol, adult language, loneliness.

word count: 1678 (WOW)

Silence, to you, meant many things.

It was the soft hours of dawn, honey golden light streaming through curtained windows. It was the hush in your soul after a day so divine it felt more like a dream than anything else. Silence was the eye of a hurricane, the calm before the storm.

Sometimes, it was sinister. Silence meant unknown things seeping into hairline cracks left unguarded when things had been going good, going smooth, going so well you forgot life could be anything else, forgot that surprises still existed.

A day of silence had melted seamlessly into two, then drew slowly into four, even five. It had grown harder to keep your mind from straying, to keep yourself focused on the world in front of you and the people beside you. It was easier during the day as most things seemed to be, but, well.

Things were always fine, until they weren’t fine at all.

An arm of the couch, a corner chair. The windowsill cleared of clutter for seamless exits and entries under the cover of night – they all became prime places for dreaming and thinking, for worrying and waiting. For wondering if you were even allowed to be this worried, this affected, because it wasn’t like you and Jason Todd were technically dating, after all.

It was like being suspended in a sort of limbo, a liminal space; floating at a fixed point in space and time where you danced around whatever it was that had grown and blossomed so beautifully between the two of you.

Also known as: a purgatory, of sorts.

So you scrolled through old messages, camera rolls, curled up in the windowsill with a blanket and city lights for company, with city life for a soundtrack. This all dispelled the tension, the sporadic bouts of cracked composure; reliving memories that reminded you of his warmth, of his smile, focused on the ones that surrounded you with comfort. He would come home because he always came home, in one way or another – a little rumpled and tired, or a canvas stained with his journey.

You crawled into bed, grazed fingertips feather-light across his pillow, then dreamed.

Of course Jason was fine. Probably.

A few days later, you had become familiar with this feeling, you realized. Adjusting, finally, to all of this from the past, the present. This was your life now, and patience was a virtue. Resilience had to become one too.

Life went on.

And then you received a message, phone vibrating while out on an errand. Twilight was fast approaching, and you tried to race against the heavenly hues as they melted into deep peony pink, bled into bruised violet, became that deep navy blue always mistaken for midnight black.

Night was unpredictable, after all, and this one was no different.

{ Tuesday, 5:36 pm. From: Roy Harper

Coming in hot }

“Oh,” you said, startled. Your feet stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, crowded and loud – then suddenly, abrasively silent – but you began to move again, when your mind remembered what, exactly, that phrase meant. “Oh.”

You were home in record time. Everything happened fast, after that.

The first aid kit was in your hands within seconds, contents already finding their way onto a table, hands acted on muscle memory as they pulled a bottle of liquor, half full, from the cabinet as your front door flew open, ricocheted off the wall.

You didn’t even flinch.

“In here!”

Heavy, shuffled footsteps followed your voice. Roy and Kory hauled Jason onto the cleared space, and you didn’t bat an eye at that either.

His gear was off already, the clothes worn underneath already stained deeper, darker, saturated in places. His white streak wasn’t so white anymore, either. The harsh overhead light hid no details, and you wished this sort of scene still made you cringe, still made your breath catch and your brow crease in worry.

No one ever thought about what changed within you, when the life you crafted was suddenly full of superheroes and vigilantes. It’s never just learning how to stitch, how to help clean fancy bulletproof kevlar, or your rugs by extension. No, some changes ran too deep for anyone to see them, except for you, in moments like these.

Jason’s eyelids fluttered open, closed, rinse, repeat. He groaned, swore brutally when you began to clean up his wounds; you had learned a thing or two by this point, and this was nothing you had not handled before. Kory and Roy held him down while you worked, while you stitched and cleaned and bandaged.

Your routine was a well oiled machine. Everything slowed down after that.

“So this is what it takes for you to answer my messages,” you said, voice loud in the fresh silence, tone caught between a soothing murmur and a sardonic dig. “Just get yourself mortally wounded, avoid all that ‘don’t worry, I’m alive,’ small talk.”

Jason swats away his Outlaws, breathed a cuss as he pushed himself unsteadily upright. He tells them to wait in the jet, and they listened only after you shrugged your indifference.

“Mortally wounded. I thought you just saved my life,” he tried to joke, but this time it didn’t quite land. Not with his voice so rough and his blood on your floor.

“Take what you need on your way out,” you offered to his friends (yours too, now, you supposed). A balm in contrast to Jason’s demand.

You shared a look with Roy and Kory before they shut the door behind them.

“Rarely a dull moment.” Jason continued, more to himself than to you. He picked up the bottle of liquor within arms reach. The cap screwed off easy and he took a drink, then another while you hid the bloody dressing in the trash.

You swore you felt every emotion under the sun in the next seconds that passed. You were careful not to overwhelm either of you with any of them.

“Why didn’t you go to the Manor? You know Alfred does a better job than I do.” your fingers grabbed the bottle cap, played with it while your heartbeat rose and rose and rose. Jason probably heard it from across the room.

You knew the answer of course, at least the one he always told you.

He was quiet this time, though. Tired eyes left yours in favor of looking out the window, curtains still wide open to the prying eyes of nightfall. He went over to close them. “You never told me, but you were worried.”

It was a small truth; he had grown to trust you with those.

You wanted to smile, but you pulled a glass down from the cabinet, filled it with water and took it to Jason instead. Tugged the bottle gently out of his hand, replaced it with the glass.

He huffed a laugh, breath hitching when the movement pulled at stitches. Jason shifted his attention back to the city beyond, peeking behind the curtain every so often. His indifference to the last twenty minutes, the last two weeks-

You ventured out, turned the words over in your mind as you spoke them. “I don’t want to ruin your dramatic return.”

“But?”

“Being temporarily ghosted gives a person time to think.”

His lips twisted into a smirk, eyes bright. “Does it?”

“Jay.” you had grown careful with your words, with their delivery, but they always said fortune favored the bold. “I know you’re not my knight in shining armor -”

Jason snorts, took a drink. You were half tempted to push him out the window.

“- and I’m the farthest thing from royalty locked in a tower,” he kept his eyes to the streets, but yours could never leave him again. They didn’t want to, now that he was here in front of you, acting as if he never left. “But it feels . . . it feels like we’re in a fairy tale, sometimes, you know? And then I don’t hear from you for weeks, or you come home with a bullet lodged in your shoulder, and I can’t help but wonder, ‘What the actual hell am I doing?”

Jason looked at you then, expression closing off, bright blues steeled. “What are you doing?”

You don’t know, and you tell him that too.

But you were still here, and you hadn’t told him to leave. He knew that, and you could see him begin to remember, see him begin to let the tension ease up just enough to be casual.

He said nothing before he stole the breath from your lungs, just like he always does.

“’Death and love are yet contending for their prey.’” he quotes, and you allow yourself that small smile then, moving close enough to touch him, for him to touch you.

You wondered how long it would take, for him to start quoting a poet. Little did he know, you spent enough of his time away reading his favorites to feel closer to your anti-hero, and, well. At long last, two could play that game.

“’Though storms may break the primrose on it’s stalk, though frosts may blight the freshness of it’s bloom, yet spring’s awakening breath will woo the earth, to feed with kindliest dews it’s favorite flower, that blooms in mossy banks and darksome glens, lighting the green wood with it’s sunny smile.’”

Jason’s grip on the glass tightened; he had to look away, because – what the fuck.

Shelley always had a way with words, but hearing them spoken in your voice, so raw and practiced with that glint in your eye -

Oh.

The expression he wore now – it was the most real, the most wholeheartedly Jason, you had ever seen. He cleared his throat. “That’s not even the same poem.”

A quiet laugh fell obnoxious and graceless through your lips, and you couldn’t stop it.

“I’ll work on that one next time you leave me.”

Jason Todd pulled you into his arms then, hid his smile in your shoulder as you held him tight, and held him close.

#jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #red hood imagine #dc imagine #jason todd x you #batfam imagine #kas writes #batboy imagine

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shyrose57 · 3 years

Note

Timeloops as a form of character derailment (kinda)? SIGN ME UP.

Okay but god that would cause so much angst, like, they team up, they comfort each other where no one can see, out of necessity because literally no one else knows what they're going through. (Okay I rambled quite a lot here I'm so sorry)

But like, imagine everytime they do something different, refuse to engage with what the script is forcing them to do and suddenly everyone is forced back to the beginning.

Like, Wilbur would probably break the most in the beginning (would this start at the Pogtopia arc, or before that? How far back do they have to go back every time they reatart? God that would be a sort of angst all on its own, half the time messing up purposely cause back here was so simple), since Dream is antagonistic but not a full fledged villain, and Quackity really hadn't entered his villain arc yet. And Wilbur, the poet, refuses to believe that this is the only story, he wrote himself a country, he created the symphony, he gets to choose how it ends. He refuses to do anything to his brother and friends, refuses to hurt Tommy. Of course, that doesn't work and he gets sent back to the beginning, in the end, he does lose himself, just not for the reasons that his family, his friends think (when Wilbur begs for death from philza, it is not a part of the play, the act, he just wants and end to this loop, maybe death will be an out, and imagine his surprise when it works. Imagine his surprise when its so much worse. Now he gets revived each time someone messes up, and it becomes a twisted relief from a different kind of loop)

Dream after this point would probably start ending the loops just before and during the exile arc, when he realises, oh, I'm the big bad of the story. The ultimate villain. First his friends abandon him, and why wouldn't they? He's horrible to them, he doesn't doesn't want to be, but what choice does he have? When he's forced to say he doesn't care for them, can't refute the claims that he doesn't care for them, doesn't love them. Then exile happens. And it's so much worse, cause he likes Tommy, he's one of his friends, and sometimes dream even thinks of him like a brother. And sometimes that shines through, he can be friends, then he's reminded oh no, apparently he has to a massive piece of shit now (all of the background stuff that happens, him commissioning the prison, the hall of attachments just makes this so much worse, whatever the hell is going on with Ranboo). He probably starts to really get distant, cause it's easier to go through the motions again and again and again if you actually dont care about the people around you (he cares so much, but hey, maybe there's some truth to attachments only being there to hurt you. Cut yourself off and you'll be free)

When the disc confrontation happens the first time,he thinks he's messed up something again cause everyone's here to stop him. Then he gets sent to prison and the next day happens. And it's still a torture, being isolated and treated like that, but at least he's alone, only has to act when people (rarely) visit. And then Tommy visits again, and then Quackity visits.

As for Quackity, I feel like he would have the easiest time, at first, after all he wasnt a villain at first, that change happens gradually. He only loops because he doesn't know the script, not because he refuses to do any actions, and sure some are harder than others, Tubbo's execution for one, but he's allowed to be against that, so it's justifiable. Techno's execution is justifiable (Dream can just tell him the behind the scenes information, it's fine, sure he dies, but what's one trauma in this time loop? He's got plenty to spare). And he's always been charasimatic, manipulative under certain lights, so thats easy. In fact, he goes so long that he doesn't even fully realise the villain arc he's undertaken until he realises that oh god, he has to go through with torturing Dream, someone he knows isn't a bad person, is forced into this the same way as he is, and each time Dream gives in, tells him what he want to know (no he doesn't, he never want to know, not like this), he gets sent back, doomed to repeat their actions. Every. Single. Day.

Imagine all threes surprise when they notice other veering off script, too. Not stuck in a loop, but noticing hey, haven't we done this before?. And for the first time in a long, long, long time, the three start to feel a glimmer of hope.

Anon, I love, literally, all. of. this. You read my mind! But like, better!!!

They end up reset to the very start of the Smp. A bit before the idea of L'manberg started to form. So yes, while originally, they're quite determined to find a way through the loop, as time goes on, they start purposely messing up for a breather-though only when they feel they truly can't take it, because it still means they have to go through everything again.

The three all get so close as a result of this whole thing, which makes everything so much worse when it comes to hurting each other-especially for Quackity. Sometimes he just-can't, stopping and sitting with Dream until Sam finds them and resets the loop.

Wilbur can do anything he wants in limbo....but he can't get out. Nothing he does will break the loop once inside. The first time it resets after his first few years in there, he can't stop shaking. The cold seems to have followed him right back to the start.

And Dream? As you said, exile is just about the worse for him. Because he's supposed to manipulate Tommy, make him think their friends as he hurts him. And maybe the worse part about that is that he's allowed to be nice to Tommy-genuinely nice...but only to an extent. Only because in the end, it will just be seen as part of his manipulations.

They're just all straight up suffering.

And then-

And then, everyone shifts a little bit to the left, and for the first time in a long time, they dare to hope.

But if they want to see if this is really what they think it is, well-they'll have to devote themselves more to their roles than ever.

#The Bad Guys AU #dream smp #dream smp au #dreamwastaken #wilbur soot #quackity

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cynic-spirit · 3 years

Text

The Poem Series (11) Dear, if you change, I'll never choose again– John Wick

All the previous parts here

“So let me get this straight, he gives you a bouquet, and then when you leave, he doesn’t follow you, then the next day, in the early morning he gives you a poem, while you are standing naked”

“I was not naked sky!!I was in my tank shirt and shorts. My night outfit”

“and what is your problem here? That he is apologizing so romantically, or that you are being an idiot?”

“Stop it, will you? I dont know, I am so confused right now, I told you, he makes me feel all sorts of emotions”

“Diana, Clearly, you both like each other, he sounds amazing, and by the way you speak, I am sure he looks amazing too. So just call him and meet him and hear him out. Maybe you can have time to ‘’make up’ too ” Sky winks suggestively

“Does everything come down to sex with you?”

“Yes it does, and you must stop being such a prude. Clearly, the man wants to ravish you, and you are not feeling any different”

“Oh hush sky!!”

Meanwhile John was at his place. He has had a wonderful morning. He had gone and seen Diana and she looked breathtaking. Her hair was disheveled and she wore shorts, a tank t shirt that showed her curves perfectly. John was thankful to be near the car rather than giving her the card, himself. He had started to understand her a little bit and he knew that she is a woman who would be enticed by simpler things in life rather than expensive gifts. John would not refrain from putting his imagination in wooing her again. He was willing do that all life if he had to. He had a plan in mind, He will try to make her good qualities understood and to conquer the diffidence. She loved poetry and John had started to understand that poetry is in fact the food for love. Of a fine, stout and healthy love. It nourishes what is strong. John’s confidence in his love for Diana was as natural and strong as Diana’s suspicion of his love for her. Warmth and tenderness of heart, with an affectionate, open manner, will beat all the clearness of head in the world for attraction.

Diana in her house sat on one of the chairs near the kitchen island, staring at the phone. Her eyes would switch between the card, the bouquet and the phone while she wondered what to do in mute astonishment. Her mind was in a state of flutter and wonder, which made it impossible for her to be collected. “Oh damn it” she muttered and dialed John’s number. She found it a little odd that it was a landline home number. After four rings, John picks up.

“Diana” She hears him say.

“How did you know it was me”

“No one else has my number.”

“For real?”

“Yes”

“what about your friends?”

“No”

“No one?”

“Just you Schatje”

Diana blushes a little hearing that nickname again. She bites her lip. Her mouth opens but no voice comes out. John asks,

“How are you my love?”

“I thought you didn’t care.”

“Do you REALLY believe that about me Diana?”

After a small pause, “I thought you left me”

“Only to come back to you, love, as soon as I could”

“John, I don’t understand anything about you, about us”

“Would you meet me ?”

“For what?”

“Because I am struggling with my feelings here, love. My feelings will not be expressed, here on phone, away from you. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

“John….”

“Diana….”

They share a moment of silence on the phone. Only small breaths can be heard, until Diana says.

“You know John, for a man who claims to not understand poetry or literature, you sure quote a lot of lines”

“Like I said love, I don’t understand them, but I do remember them.”

Diana smiled, she felt a little happy or lets call it with a more fascinating name – pleased.

“Can I come to pick you up tonight to spend sometime with you, I would very much like to apologize in person.”

“Is it another dinner John?”

“No. it is not a dinner”

“What is it then?”

“Don’t you wanna know?

John comments and Diana could feel his smirk from across the phone.

“ I will pick you up at 7 love. Don’t wear heels, we will be doing some walking”

“Bye John”

“I’ll see you love”

Diana lets out another sigh. She did not know what to expect. It’s the human heart which is always in conflict with itself, but isn’t this what is the source of all passion. John had touched Diana at an emotional and spiritual level, and that’s why she was going against all her tenets of dating and relationships. The time that John was not talking to Diana, she was miserable. It was necessary to talk to him, find out more. Some how she had a feeling that if she pursues the relationship with John, this might be a normal occurrence. She started getting ready for the evening. She decided on a simple bootcut navy jeans with a white shirt. She put a long lose jacket over it and paired it with her black sports sneakers. She decided on tying her hair into a pony. Instead of clutch bag, she opted for a cross body bag. She is not heavy on the makeup and kept it bare minimum. She looked in the mirror and found herself good enough. She was curious where would they be going. She was broken off before thinking too much by the rumbling sound of a familiar Mustang. She almost sprints towards the door, then halts. She takes two breaths and then opens to see John waiting for her. She smiles at him earning a smile back.

“Hey John”

“Hello Diana”

John leaned and gave a chaste kiss on the exposed part of her neck, and she felt goosebumps all over body.

The couple begins to drive. Diana is both giddy and excited. John, on the other hand cannot concentrate on driving. Diana looked effortlessly chic. Clam, cool, casual, she was a sexy vixen when she sang on the stage in the club, she was an elegant woman on the date, and now, in this casual outfit, John knew, he was not wrong about her. Diana would be his wife one day.

“Where are we going John?”

“Somewhere I’d like you to take”

“Stop the mystery John”

“I am not even half as mysterious as you are”

“I am not the one who vanished John”

“For a while you did, my love”

“Are you being cheesy again?”

“Is it working?”

“A little.”

“Then Yes I am being cheesy. Here we are. Come on”

With that John almost jumps out of the car to open the passenger’s side door for Diana. He puts his hand out for her to hold. Diana looks at him with a slight question in her eye, and holds his hand. She steps out and is surprised at the view. They are on the outside of the city, away from the highway. An attractive green place, lots of trees, almost untouched by civilization. One can see the overwhelming lights of the city far away. The sky is free of pollution and suddenly the stars appear to have been spread on the sky like confetti. There is quiet and peace around. The air is fresh, its breezy but not cold. There is a fragrance of the jasmine and lilies in the air. Diana closes her eyes to breathe them in, and cannot help but say, in a whisper.

“Wao”

“I knew you’d like it” She hears John’s voice as a whisper so close to her ear that she could feel his warm breath on her neck. Then with another small peck on her neck, John offers his arm and says

“Lets walk”

They begin walking down a path,

“So..?” Diana says

“So..?”

“You vanished.”

“It was unintentional, unplanned”

“What does it mean?”

“I did not expect to take so long, my love.”

“You could have said something, you know”

“I am sorry, Diana, truly sorry. I did not intend to hurt you like I did.”

“Will it happen again John?”

“Probably”

“Then don’t apologize. Tell me what happened. It’s not going to work if you don’t trust me”

“I trust you with every fiber of my being Diana”

“Then talk to me”

“My work, its… its complicated”

“I figured”

“Sometimes, it takes me to places I don’t want to go”

“Sometimes, even I have to teach a philosophy class” Diana jokes, trying to make John a little bit at ease, earning another one of his bashful smiles.

“Its not THAT complicated Diana” John muses back, thinking how she makes everything easy for him and continues to speak.

“My work is complicated. It takes me to places where I don’t want to go. It takes the time that I did not anticipate or plan.”

“And this was one of those situations?”

“Yes”

“So, you weren’t ignoring me?”

“Diana, I cannot ignore you. Ever. You are the blood in my veins, the rhythm of my heartbeat, the air that I breathe. I cannot ignore you”

“Then why did you not call me?”

“I cannot call when I am at work Diana. Its… Its…”

Diana moves in front of John, she holds his face with both her hands, steps a little closer, and asks.

“What is it John”

“My work is dangerous Diana.”

“And you cannot tell me about it?”

“No, not right now. Not immediately”

“But you will tell me about it when you are ready?”

“I promise”

“I can work with that”

“You can work with that?”

“Yes”

“really?”

“I have one condition, though.”

“Anything love, anything.” John wraps his hands around her waist, pulling her a little closer to him.

“When you leave next time for your work, you would tell me”

“I will, I will, I will” John chants like a prayer. “I cannot believe I have found someone like you in my life.”

“John, you are the most passionate and intense man I have met. Don’t change that about you, because, if you change, I’ll never choose again; Sweet, if you shrink, I’ll never think of love”

John smiles, “who was that from?”

“Few lines from a poet named John Dowland” She playfully stresses the name John as she releases herself from his grip walking backwards. “You are not the only John in my life John” she says with a wink, but she instantly regrets as she sees John’s expression change. His eyes become a little darker. What was that? A growl? As he leaps forward and before she understands what is happening, John has picked her up bridal style in his arms and begins walking.

“What? What ??What are you doing John? Put me down! Someone might see us!!”

“Do you think I care?”, and he starts walking with her in his arms, as if she is feather

“John, PUT ME DOWN!!”

“I don’t share, love, and I won’t share you with anyone”

Diana chuckles. “He is a dead poet John”

“It doesn’t matter”

“Put me down”

“Say you are mine”

“Put me down, John”

“Say, I am the only John in your life”

“Put me down, and I will give you a kiss”

“I will kiss you anyway, Schatje, I have been thinking of your pink lips since I saw you today morning”

Diana gasps remembering how she was in the morning. Realizing that she will not win from John, she relents.

“John, I am yours, are you mine?” Finally, she whispers slowly, not meeting his eye, and reddened cheeks.

“I was yours since I heard you sing at the club, my love”.

John puts Diana down on her feet so she is standing against a tree. In the moonlight, her eyes looked damn stimulating. He leaned more and more reducing the distance between them inch by inch. Her skin looked inviting, and he wanted to touch it badly. His fingers itched to roam on her body. He wanted to kiss each and every part of that skin. John could feel her breaths fanning his face. His gaze shifted to her lips which were painted in a light shade of red. The last time he had tasted them they tasted like rose petals. John wanted that intoxicating drug again. Snaking his arm around her waist, He pulled her closely towards himself. Slowly, he slid his fingers on her neck and felt the heavenly touch of her skin on his fingertips. A soft gasp escaped Diana’s lips which created a jolt in his whole system.

John has had many women in his life but had never felt what he was feeling just by touching her. Oh! how amazing it would be when he would consume her fully, surrender to her completely. He placed his forehead on hers and touched her cheeks with his thumb. A shy smile appeared on her face and John knew he would go hell and back to bring that smile on her face again and again. Diana could feel the fierce gaze of John on her. She wanted to play with that fire. Even if John saw this in her eyes, he did not want her to feel pressured or corned into being with him. And as much as he dreaded to hear the answer, he asked:

“Are you really mine, Schatje? Because there is no going back from here. I won’t let you go. If all this, if I am too much for you, say now, and I will hold nothing against you. I will let you go. I will be happy loving you from afar”

John hissed in her ear, his lips touching slightly on the skin behind her ear, making her skin on fire. Diana knew, she had a choice here. John was asking her, giving her a choice. He does not want her to be obligated to him. He wants her to want him as much as he does. She knew he has some secrets but he is giving her a choice, to be with him and wait, or leave. At that instant, Diana did not have any conflict in her mind or heart about John. She just nodded in response with a small humming yes, for voice had eluded her, and before she could think anything, she felt John’s lips on hers. She felt his soft lips on hers and it enthralled her. Throughout her system, she felt as if she was on fire. Her hands automatically found their way to his neck and shoulders for support as her legs were almost jelly now. She was unable to feel her body, let alone control it. As she touched him, she felt his body twitch and tighten. She felt a growl on her mouth escaping his lips.

Slowly, John’s hands found their way under her shirt as he held a death grip on her body. He sucked on her lip as it was the last ecstasy from heaven. John felt her back arch and her moans aroused him more and more. She had driven him crazy. As he slid his hand under her top, he felt her body twist under his touch and he kept moving up till he felt her breasts. “Блядь” (Fuck!) she hears John say something in a language she doesn’t understand, who is now busy trailing kissing down her neck, along with small bites. He paid special attention to that scar on her neck. The scar that her old excuse of a man boyfriend left on her. He sucked, kissed, licked that scar like there is no tomorrow. How dare he scar her? With each kiss on that scar, John promised a thousand cuts on that wretched man. He would find him, and tell him, teach him some manners, cut him in thousand cuts, no one touches John Wick’s woman.

“tell me to Stop, Schatje” John says hoarsely while still devouring her neck with his mouth. Diana’s breaths were now heavy pants. “Tell me to Stop.” He said between his kisses.

“John, stop now, please, darling. ”

John pauses and moves back to those swollen and flushed lips of hers and kisses her hard again. It was her voice, her skin, her breaths, her moans, her sounds, just fueling him more and more. But John knew, he had to stop. He gives her a small chaste kiss on her cheek and leans back a little, still keeping her in his arms. John sees her flustered persona. She was breathing heavily, slowly, all flustered, red, shy. She was a sin herself, descended from the garden of Eden to ruin John. John knew his hunger will not end here. It had just begun. He would spend an eternity worshipping those lips of hers.

“Diana…”

“Yes John?”

“I am yours, truly and completely, know that.”

“Yes John.”

“It is not a claim. Its not a statement. It is now the most basic and the simplest truth of my life.”

“Yes. You are now my sweet John”

John had been called a lot of things in his life, curses, rebukes, mocks. He had been feared and loathed. When he entered a room, people would only describe him as feral, savage, dangerous, perilous, repulsive, and deadly. When Diana called him My Sweet John, his world stopped, he could not hear his own heartbeat which was running so frantically just two moments ago. There was so much tenderness, so much faith in her voice, in the way she spoke. He just looked at her. She had called her his.

“John….”

“John…?”

“Hey… ! are you okay” Diana touches his bearded face.

“Say that again”

“say what?”

“What you just said.”

Diana smiled. She puts her head on his chest, looks up and says,

“My sweet John”

John tightens his hug on her, and Diana hides her face in his chest giggling a little. As they are lost in this moment of blissful admission of love, John’s instincts perk up. He looks up, and around slowly, still holding Diana in his arms. Beyond some trees, he sees a shadow, moving away. Before John could identify who it was, the suspicious shadow was gone. Something was wrong. This was however not the time for this. They were sharing a moment and John did not want to ruin it. Moreover, John did not want to alarm Diana.

“Let me drop you home, love, I will meet you tomorrow”

“Where?”

“at your college. I will bring lunch”

“and if you don’t?”

“Then I will call you, inform you, and won’t keep you waiting”’

“and if you don’t?” Diana asks with a little tease.

“Then I’ll send you my carved heart in a box. I promise.“

Diana chuckles and smacks his chest, “Okay”’

And with that they moved towards the car, holding hands, as Diana leaned on John’s shoulders. John, looks back at the trees once more with his scrutinizing darkened eyes before walking off with his woman.

@meetmeinthematinee @ficsnroses @overheardatthecontinental

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