#genuinely i got started writing by keeping a lot of journals and writing every idea i had even if im now embarrassed by it

[shivasdarknight]

Hi, sorry for this but you are a writer, so umm.. I was hoping you could give me some tips/advice on how to write?

tbh the way I got into writing is a bit insane, but I do have some advice that can help. gonna put it under a cut just because it got kinda long

honest to god, one of the best pieces of advice is something you're already doing because reading can genuinely help you with becoming a better writer. stepping outside of your usual genres or authors can help expand your viewpoint and introduce you to more narrative styles so you can play around and see what works for you. eg. if you mostly read first person, give second person a shot. or if you're an omniscient third person, try limited third person. or even retrospective first person, because i often see people complain about first person pov when it's married with a present tense story. if you have a first person narrator talking about events in the past as if talking to you, or a journal it often takes an entirely different angle and it's something I've played with in Homestuck fics because that fandom tends to be more open to narrative experimentation. Writing is honestly a lot of looking at stuff you like (much like art) and smooshing it all together. Personally, I've gotten a lot of my writing style from stuff like The Locked Tomb, admittedly Lovecraft was foundational (but this is a great example of why to always remain critical considering his bullshit), so was Homestuck and Rick Riordan's stuff. I'm never trying to copy them wholesale, but I am looking at aspects I like - such as Riordan's humor intertwining with the narrative and narration, or the deeply unreliable narrators that Muir writes, or even how Homestuck balances purple prose with gut wrenching conciseness when it counts. A lot of modern day fast food fiction takes out a lot of the stuff that actually builds a story - pacing, playing with narration and technical writing - so you need to be conscious of what you're looking for in things. Often more established authors get to do weirder stuff than new authors, but don't discredit new ones because that would be leaving out folks like Xiran Jay Zhao and their phenomenal prose.

Another thing that helps greatly is reading writing critique. Video essays on books or even more critical thought pieces on writing, tropes, etc. can help you learn more about why something works. Lots of different channels on YouTube dedicated to dissecting media, absolutely recommend stuff like Hello Future Me, Overly Sarcastic Productions (real world ties + mythology, great basis to build things on), Zoe Bee (writer + commentary), Nerdwriter1 (media analysis + commentary), Just Write, and Tale Foundry. For adjacent suggestions that can help build up alternate perspectives that aren't directly about writing but are about critical thinking with stories (which is frankly an important skill to have), I definitely recommend Princess Weekes, Accented Cinema, Now You See It, Dominic Noble, The Storyteller, and Pop Culture Detective. A lot of this is discussing film (save Dominic Noble, who also talks about books a Lot), but the core essence of storytelling is helpful regardless of what angle it comes in - be it video game, movie, tv, or book reviews and analyses.

Actual writing. Varies on the person on if they do outlines or not and how, but I still recommend trying to do an outline when you're first starting out. One habit to immediately knock yourself out of is writing things chronologically. If you're working on a big piece and have more energy to write something in the middle? Put that in a new doc and leave a placeholder for where you're at. Legitimately, getting words on the paper is more important than those words being good. Because you can always come back and edit things to make sense.

Always edit what you write. I hate the "no beta we die like real men" attitude because people will dunk on editing but then praise stories for having "firm and satisfying" connections which can only really be built through editing. Your first draft is your rough idea. Your second one is when you read through and have it make sense. Three is making that make sense, and maybe 4 is more just grammar and spelling errors. Edit as many times necessary to make sure you like it.

Always work in broad strokes, then move in finer like with anything. Do a general idea for a story, then your main story beats, then how you connect them together, and then the nitty gritty of each. Keep lots of notes - do not rely on your head solely for everything - and just also be willing to let things go if they change.

What I tend to do when I write is I want a good flow. I often get that from reading my writing out loud to hear how it sounds, but I'm looking for a good beat to read along. Because even if the sentence is grammatically correct and structurally sound, it may not be very interesting to read. Like you could say someone feigned a polite expression to not let the other person know that they didn't feel comfortable with a topic, or you could go the angle I went with recently of "she painted herself an interested expression to wear as dread began to gnaw at her gut." Sometimes the more colorful or out there the language is, the better it sounds when you read it. Like instead of saying "that's just how things go for them" you could say, "but Fate had a funny way of making her disdain known for (X character)". And this is where reading other peoples' work comes in real handy because you can get a lot of examples of how people write things.

I also try and reflect themes of the story into the writing itself, like this section of a draft:

Still nothing.  Seemed he wasn’t going to bother with a glass, instead just ripping the top off of some bottle of gin and tipping it back with little regard for himself. Still that chronometer ticked on; still that taught tension like another arrow had been drawn.  A million and more things flooded Ysayle’s mind, itching to loose them at Estinien, yet found herself stuck in indecision as she stared daggers into him - ever her opposite as he just seemed despondent.  The gin bottle hit the extended shelf loudly; one hand a fist around the bottle, the other balled up on the surface - knuckles as white as bone. Still, Estinien said naught. Still, the chronometer ticked on. Still, Ysayle’s heart roared in her ears - poisonous words damming up her throat.

The theme of this story is avoiding the mistakes of the past. How things often can wind up cyclical, and the goal is to break from those cycles and repeats. So naturally, several points of the narration itself repeat itself. This isn't standard writing style, but it gets that point across by repeating "Still" as the scene crawls on. I also use a lot of alliteration in my writing because I personally find it fun? So "a maddening matter made most malign", for example.

It also helps to change up how you write or what descriptors you use based on the character whose head you're in, even if it's third person. Third person can have a voice and I often use it to speak aloud a character's thoughts instead of relying on italicized dialogue-thoughts. It makes the dialogue-thoughts appearing hit more when they do instead of just having to be subjected to internal ramblings constantly. Like in this fic I just published:

“...Can we talk about it on the morn?” “What for?” You don’t know what it is you ask of me. “Tired,” Estinien said with a shrug. “We’ve morning patrol, remember?”

Compared to this fic:

“Yes, confusingly.”  Her tone was flat as she leaned once again on Surkukteni’s shoulder, thankfully on the uninjured side.  “I fear I may have been wrong, though I truly doubt it.  To deny me twice, then throw a fit?  I wonder — why didn’t you go through with it?” Not even Surkukteni had that answer.  For the umpteenth time during that conversation, she refused to look at Her Darkness.  That desire — twisted and poisoned as it was — was one that still surfaced from time to time, yet like clockwork made her ill and was banished from her thoughts.  Why was that?  She felt scorned back then, wishing the universe would correct this error in sparing him but taking Ysayle — but was she not the one who helped save him?  Who helped tear those eyes from his armor?  She easily could — and had previously — bluffed that it was to destroy the eyes and be rid of the threat, but given her hesitancy now? Why?

All of Surkukteni's thoughts are condensed into the narration so that I can separate out her thought dialogue from idle musings since she - specifically - has a connection with something that can talk telepathically. This thing comments on the literal narration of the story, so when she's directly addressing this thing it's thought-dialogue. But her actual thoughts become narration to avoid spending too much time with that, as I find it's better used sparingly.

Motivation for writing is probably the hardest thing, and best I can advise is to get really into critiquing the stuff you like because you wind up finding a lot of material in fix-it stuff, or just wanting to see more of stuff like you. It's part of what drives my xiv stuff due to how they treat female characters, and I really just wanna see more sapphic bi4bi. So considering it's something I've been stuck in for a very long time now and really like the ambient lore and wish it would do better, it's fueling my desire to write. And from there, there are so many other angles to take - like building ocs, building lore. Finding a sandbox is genuinely one of the best ways to do it. Again, like. You'd be surprised at how much is there because of spite. LOTR has Eowyn because Tolkien didn't like that the "can be killed by no man" thing in Macbeth was resolved with a character born by c-section, so he instead wrote Eowyn, the woman who killed the Witch-King of Angmar. C.S. Lewis didn't like the fact that Tolkien believed that modern technology - or slightly less modern technology - didn't believe in fantasy and he explicitly cited lampposts. And this is why there's just a random light post in the middle of nowhere in the Narnia books.

Critique is good and healthy. I'm critical with the stuff I like and my own things so I can work on them and myself. It's fine to like something that you don't wholly agree with, especially if you're using it to inform how you build on it or build your own things. Like I dunno, I looked at Dante from Devil May Cry and went "what if he was trans" and now I've got Rhombi, a character who has stepped really far away from the OG Dante mould, but you can still see hints of it as I used what I wanted to see out of DMC to build this bisexual disaster of a guy. I was disappointed by Elsword not really committing to some of their character concepts, so I kinda just took Eve (and admittedly Add) and made them into Celes and Neilos and took them to their logical conclusions. All three of them were originally fantrolls at some point, so most of the heavy lifting was done when I was back in Homestuck and all I had to do was scrub the barcodes off of them to build them up in an original verse.

Chemistry is also crucial. If characters aren't vibing, move on. Do not force it. Good chemistry can save a bad story (eg. FFXV) and bad chemistry can ruin a good story. Often it's the characters that drive a story so you need to do a lot of plotting and planning. Most writing is honestly just planning before putting the words down.

And I'm very much so rambling by now but my main points are these (+ others I'm realizing while typing):

Plot a Lot and keep lots of notes, and also organize those notes. The contents don't have to be pretty, but you'll thank yourself in advance if you at least sort them by core idea

Getting words down is more important than getting them down correctly. You can always come back and edit it when you have an idea of how to make it work

You can always place a [insert scene here] tag so you can keep your flow and don't get caught on something.

You also don't have to write chronologically - you wanna write the big confession scene before the intro? do it! just jump right into it!

also don't be afraid to delete stuff or remove it from your draft. save things for later to see if they work elsewhere, because maybe it could be a better spinoff.

dont listen to the advice of "if it really matters, you'll remember it in the morning" that advice was given by neurotypicals who don't have memory issues. make notes of EVERYTHING and then delete the ones that don't work

sometimes writing by hand vs computer can really make a difference in how you think. handwriting is slower and makes you think about stuff, so you may want to keep journals for random snippets or ideas like how doodling is good for building up your habit of drawing

Outlines can help but how you outline is up to you. Try a few styles out and go with what works best.

I cannot stress enough that having something like a marker board to write out your broad stroke story ideas is really really nice

Broad strokes first, then narrow it further and further down. Don't get wrapped up in the nitty gritty details

Chemistry is crucial and can often save a piece you're not fully feeling.

Read your stuff out loud while editing because it can help point out stuff that's not jiving! I find it helps a lot with dialogue

Read a lot. Listen to critique. Be more critical. Also don't limit your idea of stories to just books - expand the media you consume and you'll find really interesting stories that can help with yours

Don't be afraid to use tropes, but also don't super rely on them to where you're just checking off boxes instead of coming up with natural scenarios built on chemistry (eg. having the nerdy goth girl is fine, but the way the trope ends in most media ("fixing" her or just having her be a quirky cynical critic) may not fit with your story and it may be better to see how the story plays out rather than forcing it into something it's not)

Iron Widow is a good example here: the relationship between Zetian and Yizhi is pre-established and comes off as sort of "boy next door" vibes, or at least the very dedicated childhood friend. It quickly becomes apparent that he's as much a co-conspirator in her plans as Shimin is. The guy can be ruthless when given the chance, and that's how Yizhi goes beyond the initial trope and defines himself outside of it. Same with the contextualization of Shimin's seeming "aggression" as the "bad boy" and figuring out where that problem/persona actually stems from, and then the shift of viewing it as less aggression and more retaliation and self preservation.

Find something you do really want to write about, like filling a void in a piece of media you like or doing a take on media that made you mad or disappointed. Jane Eyre is technically fanfiction because the author wanted to see more of Jane and didn't get that. The Divine Comedy is self insert fanfiction of Dante Alighieri as he does worldbuilding with Christian mythos regarding heaven and hell. The Riordan verse is his interest in mythology crossed with a desire to give his son a protag that was like him (specifically ADHD and dyslexic), which then became wanting to let kids see themselves in the different halfbloods in the series.

There's a lot of ways you can get started writing, but the best way is to just write goofy stuff for yourself. Get out stuff that may look bad at first, but you go back and read it and critique it. Just getting yourself into the habit of writing helps a lot, because again: it matters less about the quality, and more getting it on the page and actually having something. You can always fine-tune writing, after all.

My first FFXIV fic isn't actually even published. It was just me writing something rambly about my Warrior of Light when I was starting to figure her character out. It looks nothing like what I'm doing now in part because that fanfiction became a launching point for me to work on others. I've got a lot of drafts that will never see the light of day because these were proto-concepts that became the stuff I wound up publishing. It's fine to have drafts that remain drafts because you can take that as practice, and practice is good. Anything that you write has value because you can use it to let your technical writing skills mature.

Also, don't be afraid to look for help. There are beta services on tumblr (or at least used to be when I was a teenager), plenty of writing guides or places set up to ask questions, plenty of youtubers that give prompts for you to work with. The hardest part is always getting started. But once you get past the awkwardness of the start, everything just falls into place and gets easier the longer you go at it.

You definitely have the desire for it because I've seen your very deep love of literature through the Bi-Library, so you can definitely become a strong writer if you put your mind to it 🫶 Find something to fix or address, and that usually is what gets the ball rolling. Worldbuilding is fun and can lead to something, but you can't have a well built world without a story to explore it.

Characters drive story, story is how you explore themes and the world itself, and the world itself is built on your experiences and interests. Embrace the fact that this is coming from your lens and experiences, because no media is truly void of the author and its other creators. Embrace that fact and use it as an extension of yourself. But really, just write. Literally anything. Just get into the habit of writing, and it'll progress from there!

#original #asks #answered #bisexual-coala #writing tips #long post #this is very rambly but getting into writing isnt the most straightforward thing #a lot of the time it really is just finding something that clicks and not caring about what goes on the page for the first draft #ive been writing fanfiction for...over a decade now? + a lot of rp (also over a decade) and now some p serious original stuff #my fanfiction has also gotten way more involved than it used to be #genuinely i got started writing by keeping a lot of journals and writing every idea i had even if im now embarrassed by it #what matters is just getting into the habit first and then looking at your stuff more critically once the habit is formed #it's hard to build a habit if you're immediately critical #but it's hard to maintain a habit or hobby if you're not - especially if you feel you can build on something #if you do feel it you oughta pursue it and see where it takes you #perfectly fine to not be critical with hobbies but being Constructively critical is how you improve and mature #constructive is key here. because being down on your own writing or being self deprecating is how you lose a hobby #like let's say you don't like your dialogue #go read scripts or books of stuff you like the dialogue from. analyze why they work in contrast to why you feel like yours doesnt work #maybe someone else has a solution for why it feels off #sometimes it's just as simple as taking a step back and looking at it as a whole or even just sleeping on it and coming back w fresh eyes #always approach something you don't like about your work with the attitude of ''how can i improve so i do like it'' #like ''i need to be better at fight scenes. ill be sure to include more in my next piece to focus on it and maybe read some action books'' #lotta ways to do it!! theres no one right way just a way that fits best for you!!! #just absolutely ignore the ''if it's a good idea you'll remember it in the morning'' stuff. #it doesn't account for people w memory issues and will screw you over #you do not have to wait until you're good at writing to start working on something. you need something to work on to improve #you can always come back to an idea as many times as you need as you grow as a writer #so just write until you build a habit and base style then analyze and move from there #fanfic is honestly really good for practicing style and technique - the characters and world are already ther so why not use em?

[bomberqueen17]

what is up froods

lol i keep forgetting to like. actually write updates in my personal journal. i'm using this tumblr too much like a tumblr.

i went down a rabbit hole the other night in that i just opened my own archives and went back to 2013 and then realized i started this in 2011. i didn't say a lot, back then i definitely was still using my LJ for Big Personal Updates and Tumblr was exclusively for snappy shitposts, and then I abandoned the LJ and only blogged in snappy shitposts for a while, and I did some vagueblogging that I genuinely have no idea what it was about, and that's fun.

But there's some. Boy there's some real fossils in there. God everything stays the same but everything happens so much.

I know I've backed up this blog but IDK how much you can make it make sense, offline. Anyway. That's how it goes. I'm not in any kind of existential panic about the site I'm just reacting to the zeigeist here, it made me think of old times.

I go back to the farm in a couple of weeks-- just for a couple of weeks, but the Season is Starting. My physical therapist keeps giving me more exercises. She's right, my core strength is wretched, but when I said I'd tried to do crunches now and then, tried to stay a tiny bit fit but-- she was like omg no you can't do crunches, with that hip cartilage as it is, so I felt a little better. So she's teaching me what I *can* do, and the important thing is that she's like you cannot do this more than every other day or three times a week, you cannot rush this kind of thing, and it's wonderful advice contrary to all the other advice I've ever had in my life which was like every moment you're not doing more work you're being a lazy shit. So, that's nice. I'll cut because nothing else here is going to be interesting.

I'm not the youngest person at physical therapy but there's a lot of old people there. I haven't been masking, I've been being lazy and just using xylitol nose spray before I go, and it's been fine, but I know that's just luck. (I see no one but Dude, who sees almost no one but me, so the consequences of fucking up would be minor.) with a trip to the farm coming up, I'm going to go back to masking, at least in the lead-up to the trip-- because last time I had COVID I had almost no symptoms, and nowadays apparently the rapid tests aren't super useful. The way I'm coping is, I know, a logical fallacy-- since COVID wasn't bad the one time I had it, I'm just telling myself I'm resistant naturally and it won't hurt me, and I know this is not the truth at all but it helps me cope-- but I cannot stand the thought of spreading it to someone who would be more hurt by it, so I have convinced myself not to fear catching it but to fear spreading it. I figure it's effectively the same and lets me not just be fucking terrified all the time.

I also discovered that a former employee of the farm who's out here going to college is interested in carpooling, and we've already got a tentative date for him to ride back with me on my way back from the farm at the end of March, and this has lightened my spirits a great deal. It's such a long drive and it feels like such a waste of gas, and he does have a car but it's not actually that safe to drive on the Thruway. (He swears up and down it's perfectly safe but just not at sustained speeds over 60. I was like omg kid do NOT, I will drive, my car is brand fkn new. He's taking the train home and will ride back with me.)

Let's see. Oh I don't think I've kept up with posting about the kitchen painting. It's down to the last tiny fiddly details, and what I've got to do is do a half-stencil in the corner above the door, and I did one half yesterday and will finish the rest today. I had to custom cut out a copy of part of the stencil to make it work, and it's sort of janky and I am going to have to hand-paint it with a lot of masking tape, but it's such a small area that like, why not, I can be that fussy. It's fine.

Once I finish that, which if I do part in the morning and part in the afternoon I can do today, then I can FINALLY CLEAN UP AND PUT AWAY all the painting detritus. I can't tell you how excited I am to do that.

I've also been doing fabric dyeing, finally. I collected several of the muslin garments I'd finished and meant to do something with, and got out my dyes. I did a batch of ice dye solely because I forgot which ones I'd intended to use for that; now I have a pair of slightly ill-fitting homemade leggings that look like a clown threw up on them, and a cheerful sweatshirt to match. i then used the runoff to dye the cream-colored canvas work smock-- I sort of tie-dyed it because I pasted up a little bit of two of the component colors and poured that on a couple areas that I then rubberbanded, because I wanted tie-dye but did not want any white areas left. So it's a blue/purple/red smock now, and the rainbow stitching I constructed it with was polyester so it's still rainbow, huzzah. Subtle and understated and also I can smear it with filth and maybe it will still look intentional.

[image description: a canvas work smock with big pockets, hanging to dry, mostly a mucky dark purple but with some brighter splotches of red and dark blue, and some bits of paler purple.]

[image description: assorted garments draped over drying racks in a sunporch, in blotchy shades of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, all kind of run together but not murky.]

And then I did another batch of ice dye, this time with the dyes I had bought that are supposed to work well for this because they split. That dress is still in the wash so I don't have pictures of how it turned out, but mostly it just looks splotchy green. LOL oh well. The point was, I made all these test garments in undyed fabric, but I don't have a lifestyle where I can wear a white dress, so now I have some non-white dresses I don't have to be precious about. Some of them I should now probably hem and like actually finish..........

I have one dress and one shirt left, and a pair of light-wash jeans I don't like wearing, and I'm thinking about trying like. Ombre or something. We'll see if I get around to that.

My sewing area is still a fuckin disaster and I don't want to think about it. But I'm cutting out a vest from scrap denim, I want a quilted abrasion-resistant washable work vest for farm work next week and I gotta get a move on. All I need now is to cut out the batting and get to it. So hopefully today.

I took photos, I might try writing up how-tos on the dyeing and on the repurposed denim stuff, but I also might not. If I was doing this again I would probably not bother with the ice, for the rainbow one. We'll see once the properly ice dyed dress comes out of this wash, I can hear the washer spinning but I'm trapped under Chita at the moment.

I missed this week's fic update because I'm progressing so slowly on both current active WIPs. I have a bunch written ahead in both, but each one has the back half of the current chapter just held up waiting for me to write them; I've overcome the structural decisions that delayed me, but I have to just sit and write them. And both of them are complicated scenes I've been waiting to write a long time, so I'm looking forward to writing them, and so like, paradoxically, can't make myself do it. Because once I've done it I'll have done it, see... anyway. Silly but there it is. I'll get through it once I decide I deserve that treat. I know! I know.

#about the author #state of the me

[astarionfixation]

Am I Fu**ing Insane !?!

A multi chapter adventure in Astarion's mind

Chapter 2 - +As if I had been kissed by mint leaves all over+

Rating: eventually Explicit but just a lot of mind tease so far.

Word count count: 2.3k

Pairings: Astarion X OFC Tav

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54356776/chapters/137824306

I have a quite serious praise kink. Which also means compliments in the forms of tags and/or comments might very well spur me to write and post more

Teaser:

In an exasperated sigh he breathes in again and all the effort he put into keeping lucid since he got back into her room is crashing down upon him. The nauseatingly spiced mix of wine and flowers assaulting his senses once again, and her breath caressing his face as he just now realises he must have leaned in without thinking. *As if she’s not been a damned little inconvenience already!* But that’s when she begins stirring and the image of the moment when he was just that close to her a few hours prior, flashes in his mind again. Her warm fingers on the back of his neck as traitors ready to find a spot to bury a dagger  *I should know! I’ve played this game before, you hussy! better than you ever will!* Those fingers seemingly trying to grasp at him just before a soft whiff of that intoxicating scent escaped her lips when she hummed, barely intelligible: Stay.

Chapter Two - *as if I had been kissed by mint leaves all over*

Notes: *Astarion's Thoughts* +quotes from her journal+ "audible dialogue" -remarks-

aul iasa nha tho is Elvish for "in vino veritas", otherwise said "In wine there's truth" or the general idea that people are much more guileless when intoxicated.

He must’ve read those pages so many times that it’s surprising how they have not been worn out. And the fact he doesn’t technically need to sleep surely hasn’t helped the surprise quickly turn to addiction.

*How could I have not noticed?!*

The tightly kept book gave him more access to her mind, her actual thoughts, that any connection the worms might have forced them to share, and that’s likely why everyone promptly agreed to stay out of everyone’s business for the time being. And it wasn’t quite like he meant to break that deal, he was just severely unprepared for what he had found in that insignificant shiny little volume. All handwritten. By her.

Along with the odd note of information gathered during the last few days, the pages were filled mostly with just her reflections, clearly never intended for eyes that were not her own deep ones, eyes he never felt lingering on him more than the time it was necessary to be called for duty, to be addressed as politely as an accidentally forced companionship put them together. And he was supposed to know, to see, to read people and understand how to play them as if fiddling with an instrument he himself had built from scratch! The countless souls he alone had enticed and played every key, including -especially- the dark, heavy ones. Then how could he have missed the eyes she had been looking at him with? How could he have missed the intention? How could she have walked this earth without a tenth of the time he had and compete with his own ability to mask and dissipate any impression of sentiment or feeling?

He started to genuinely wonder if there could have been a mistake, perhaps she had been keeping the little metallic book for someone else *and yet I saw her and her damned quill on it! I saw her unimpressed and vacant eyes!* while clearly less than a day ago her thoughts must have been so focused on him they should have burnt a hole in his back:

+I cannot cope with the heart rending clench, from my stomach to the tip of my hair, diffusing a cold, quivering heat as if I had been kissed by mint leaves all over in just a moment, every time his voice pours, like honey, into my ears+

He found himself catching breath he didn’t need for hours, disgusted surely by the idea that she kept him in her mind so often, yet compelled to scrutinise every single line, with no chance to concede that even just one word she spent on him could have gone amiss. He had dozens of pages to commit to memory before sunrise, now that his plans toward individual freedom had suddenly fallen apart. There was no tadpole solution, no way to charm and dominate the worms, nothing to guarantee he could remain himself while still feeling the warmth of the sun on his skin.

*Nothing to guarantee the warmth of her skin if her thoughts get consumed until there’s nothing left of her*

And he has to shake his head physically from the thought because *why!? Why would she be the issue now!?* when he has his own thoughts, his own brain to worry about, his own survival as the only thing that has kept him unnaturally alive for over two centuries, well before she was barely an idea in her parent’s minds! 

His arm pulls back and the book’s metallic cover hits the door he’s still sitting against. He should be throwing it with such force that would destroy that little insignificant piece of paper conjuring all kinds of soft, enticing visions, while none will help with their shared issue: they are all on borrowed time.

+it was a good delusion of power, as if anyone could really be just... So mature for their age... But that's another story, I don't like the stories of my memories, read in hindsight…+

And that’s what froze him in place. She doesn’t spell it out but just reading the words pulls his stomach just the same, he knows that feeling, the lulling comfort that the idea of pleasing a tyrant and taking each beating as a compliment will do. His eyes close and this time the little precious book is brought to his chest, just where his heart last beat all those centuries ago. And his tintless eyebrows furrow, his usually graceful traits tighten in what is almost a grimace, teeth clenching as his head shakes once more, but this time it’s because his own memories made stories out of his delusions of power, when no matter the amount of sacrifices he brought back every night, neither his body nor his mind were spared the abuse and humiliations from his cruel Master. Cazador’s looming body flashes behind his tightened eyes.

*Fourth: thou shalt know that thou art mine.*

The rules of his master played like an obsessive charm in his head over and over,  and then it’s kinder, it’s easier to embrace what felt like the only power he had, seducing and pleasing whilst hoping for the lesser beating.

It does not matter that air is not needed now, because the sharp intakes cut through his lips and down to the bottom of his lungs, and his lips pull almost as if from muscle memory and like he so often did before. To please and appease him, to make the punishment shorter and numbing his own mind for longer.

And all of a sudden it all stops. His arms feel as if they are strained by efforts he does not recall, the heavy door behind his back certainly not as comfortable as the bed in front of him and 

*oh yes, the little useless book* 

The book that gave him no more freedom he had the night before. He would throw it mindlessly but his hand finds a way to just leave it to rest on the floor, while with an agile movement he’s back on his feet, and in a moment he’s theatrically falling on the bed, face hitting the pillows first, and a long unnecessary breath empties his lungs with the last remnants of something that reminds him of mulled wine and flowers.

—-----------

The noise of boots outside snaps him out of his trance just when the last of the candles must have burnt out as a swirl of smoke still rises in the otherwise darkened room. Voices muffled behind the door tell him his companions are only now getting to their beds which means not much will be expected of him that morning.

*Thank fuck!*

His arms move the pillow around to bury his face onto it and hoping to fall into trance again when a deeper sigh rises from his chest, and he knows. He knows what he has to do to avoid any consequences to befall upon him. Never before a sleight of hand has failed him so spectacularly and now he's not only stuck with the merry fellowship of warmbloods ignorami 

*no closer to understand and control the worm in my head*

but now with the knowledge that their pretty, little accidental leader has had her eyes fixed on him way more often than he ever realised.

*Shit… does she know?* 

And with that thought he rolls on his back, the crook of his elbow sheltering his eyes and with a final exasperated sigh he pulls himself up. Even in the darkened room he can see the metallic cover trying its best to reflect whatever resemblance of light it can catch. His long, delicate fingers pick it up and he finds himself almost laughing at himself

*You thought this was going to be your freedom and now you're just more chained to her them*

Of course he's just stuck being a monster, what did he expect? He gathers the book in his hands and not far, discarded by the door, he finds the small lock, the mockery of having to use his lockpicking skills to put it back together does not escape him.

Once the lock is back in place there’s only one thing left to do. His resignation has almost taken over if it wasn’t for that tinge just at the bottom of his stomach that wishes for him to destroy the book, destroy the room and have splinters find their way under his skin so that maybe, hopefully, the pain will take his attention away from the spectacular failure he is.

*serves me well for conceding anything to hope*

In a flash he’s out of his door, gliding through the shadows. The corridor should simply bow to his graceful presence as he approaches her room. Again.

His hand pushes the door slightly and in a moment he’s in, this time making sure the lock is turned just to avoid any sudden interruption, and within a few seconds his senses are assaulted once again by that scent that makes him feel both a drunkard and abstinent by necessity more than choice. A sigh is the loudest noise he allows himself to make as he exhales: the less he has her scent in his lungs, the easier it will be to ignore it.

Her breath is deep and regular which gives him information enough to carefully reach for her bedside table where her bag was discarded, and indeed, it’s still there waiting for him, half open. The little book still in his hand and he’s just about to place it back there

*Like absolutely nothing ever happened*

And in that moment he realises, as soon as it’s back, it’s gone. His one window to her unadulterated thoughts is gone. The one access he has ever had to someone, anyone’s actual idea of him that wasn’t serving a purpose or trying to extort something from him. If her behaviour had fooled him so completely then it was reasonable to consider the possibility she never intended to act upon any of her reflections, and the book held so many he found himself cursing the fact his elven life ended earlier and lasted much less than his immortal one, before he could learn how to commit to memory more enduringly that the last few hours perusing the little tome allowed him.

*nasty little tease! letting my mind slip that far back!*

His head shakes slightly and a bitter smile pulls the corner of his lips. There’s no point crying over spilled milk again. His hand doesn’t even touch the bag, but the book is back in it, as if it never left. With his body crouched next to bed he can see the look on her face, the look of someone who has really been peacefully resting for the last few hours, completely and utterly unaware about how she has taken that peace almost directly from him: he should have rested, he should have gone hunting and the mere thought reminds him of that dry, stinging feeling in his throat. But instead of satiating his hunger, gaining any ounce of strength back, any semblance of mortality, he just wasted the entire night on that vexatious little book that she guarded so intensely for absolutely no reason. 

*Nothing no one of value in it!*

In an exasperated sigh he breathes in again and all the effort he put into keeping lucid since he got back into her room is crashing down upon him. The nauseatingly spiced mix of wine and flowers assaulting his senses once again, and her breath caressing his face as he just now realises he must have leaned in without thinking.

*As if she’s not been a damned little inconvenience already!*

But that’s when she begins stirring and the image of the moment when he was just that close to her a few hours prior, flashes in his mind again. Her warm fingers on the back of his neck as traitors ready to find a spot to bury a dagger 

*I should know! I’ve played this game before, you hussy! better than you ever will!*

Those fingers seemingly trying to grasp at him just before a soft whiff of that intoxicating scent escaped her lips when she hummed, barely intelligible: Stay.

And she might just have given him an excellent solution. Out of that image it finally dawns on him: 

*For all she knows, I have never left*

As if the mystification of the last hours had never happened, he can just slip back into the flirtatious role that she last remembers, and at that, he whisks himself up and his leg gracefully drapes over hers so that in the next moment his body is now behind hers, without so much as a breath *or heartbeat* skipped on her part. She wanted him to stay didn’t she? In hindsight it’s just like they say *aul iasa nha tho in vino veritas*. And now her tipsiness really reads as someone’s infatuation, he had confirmation from her own well guarded thoughts, her fingers and heart committing words to paper that would have kept being nothing but denied by the demeanour she carries herself with, except for last night. 

*And isn’t it going to be a delight to coax the truth out of her own lips, when I already know I have her protection, before I even had a chance to persuade her so*

That is the first time the realisation dawns on him: no matter how well she hides her feelings, he is already under her skin, there is nothing that he can’t convince strangers to give him, the knowledge that 

+he’s on my mind, really almost all the time+

And *oh! What a terribly applicative concession!* He knows, before he even thought to strike, that he will hit the target in the perfect bull’s eye. The attainment of that awareness almost lets him enjoy, for the first time, fully, completely, the exhilarating aroma that she emanates, because in due time, understanding how that little precious tome has  opened her mind, her actual mind, to him, he now knows. 

Before he has to ask. 

He will taste her. 

Because she already says yes to him in every thought of hers he occupies.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x oc #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #bg 3 #bg 3 fanfic #astarion fanfic #astarion x tav #astarion bg3 #baldur's gate fanfiction #am i fucking insane astarion fanfic

[benboulette]

Some of my Icemav headcanons frfr

Every friday they cook together and they choose which kind of cuisine they wanna eat every monday, they listen to music on an old vinyl player that they got from mavs parents and they got the vinyls from ice's parents as an anniversary present. All the vinyls are old cheesy 60s

love songs and they like to dance while cooking whenever one of their favourite songs comes on no matter what theyre doing. It doesnt matter if the foods about to burn if be my baby comes on theyre are grooving to it while singing off key.

Along with the songs, they memorized eachothers favourite songs just by observing how the other acts depending on what song comes on. Mav could tell that ice always liked slow songs more because whenever they came on ice would hum and bop his head more than the other songs (he also loves Frank Sinatra and The Ronettes)

Ice could tell Mav was more into bittersweet love songs that sounded more upbeat although it was harder for ice to figure that out since Mav seemed to sing along with his whole heart to every single song they ever listened to, but whenever his favourites came on Mav would move a lot more and genuinely just smile a lot mroe while singing.

The day that the ban on gay people in the navy was lifted (December 21, 1993) they slow danced in Ice's office while kinda just crying in eachothers arms because they were so happy that they didnt have to hide how much they loved eachother anymore (ofc they didnt immediately announce it infront of everyone but they def had to hide less and got to be more open about it even though everyone already had an idea)

Mav's ringtone for ice is literally the song "ice ice baby" and it has been since the song was released.

Sarah was Tom's lesbian friend and they would rant to eachother about the ppl they had crushes on bc they were the only queer ppl they were aware existed around them. (they were actually surrounded by gay ppl they just didnt know)

Mav and Ice used to try to make eachother listen to new artists atleast every month and in that tradition they discovered Joe Dassin which ended up being their favourite artist to listen to together and they always sing his songs in a really bad french. Their first dance at their marriage ended up even being to "Et si tu n'existais pas".

Ice tried to learn guitar with Goose (goose side headcanon: he plays almost every instrument in existence, like if he wasnt in the navy he would be a music teacher in highschool) but Nick didn't tell him that Mav already knew how to play after having played in a band with him and slider in highschool all together. Mav (voc. and guit.) Goose (bass and backup voc.) Slider (drums) and Ice learnt through Slider that Mav knew how to play guitar infinitely better than him after slider caught him trying to learn a love song he was gonna play when he wanted to ask Mav to officially be his boyfriend.

Every. single. time. one of them got deployed the night before they would ALWAYS spend the night together listening to music and dancing the whole time, they always made their last dance "Till Then" by The Mills Brothers and they always cried no matter what.

Mav is an ugly fucking crier and gets snot everywhere but since Ice started being there where ever he was he would always use his shirt as a kleenex so when Ice isnt around when Mav cries he is completely lost and just slimes everywhere.

Before they were official Mav caught Ice singing "If I Loved You" by Dick Haymes in his office once and when he heard him singing he literally felt his heart skip a beat and now he asks Ice to sing for him a lot more than Ice would like. (He likes the way Mav's eyes light up every time he sings for Mav) and before Ice lost his voice he recorded himself singing for Mav and it made Mav ugly cry when he found out abt it

Ice has a journal and he writes about Mav and Mav only in it. Mav found it and cried again.

Ice and Mav keep matching pictures of eachother in their helmets bc Ice refused to get those necklaces that can have pictures inside with Mav so they settled on that bc it was still risky to get caught. They eventually evolved to them just bringing a full sized picture of eachother in the plane anytime they went flying. They also keep pictures of eachother in their wallets and while he doesn't admit it Ice was the happiest he ever was when he could finally stop hiding the picture of them he kept in his office and being able to grow his collection of pictures of them as his office also got bigger was his biggest accomplishment in his own eyes

Wehenever they would fight or something, Mav did the cliche of showing up infront of ices house with a boombox to sing as an apology for Ice, Carol and Goose went with him as his backup vocalists and it always worked.

Once while Mav was on a mission, he got hit (he was fine in the end and someone called his parachute) and Ice was listening to the comms on the ship and as soon as he heard that Mav was hit he had to leave the room bc he had to throw up because his mind of course went to the worst possible conclusion. They both had to be in the hospital in the end bc Ice was breaking down (NOT. breakdancing) and couldnt move bc he was shaking so bad. While they were in the hospital, even though Mav was the one who got hit, he was the one taking care of Ice.

The first song they danced to was Be My Baby by The Ronettes and they both started singing to it at the same time when it came on and had a moment where they looked at eachother like "how tf do u know this song" but turns out its bc they're both hopeless romantics.

They lived together and said they had separate rooms so ppl wouldn't be suspicious, one time Nick and Carol needed them to babysit Bradley and Bradley slept in the room that they said was Ice's, and when he went to bed he asked "Why does Ice have his own bedrooms if he always sleeps with uncle Mav?" Of course they just avoided the question but he ended up asking Goose the same question and he just burst out laughing.

Ice and Mav are the reason that Bradley had a relatively easy time accepting he was bi, he attended their "wedding" when he was like 10 so he never thought bad of gay ppl. (I put wedding in quotes bc in 1992 gay marriage wasn't legalized so they technically only held a ceremony in secret and said they were married, but when gay marriage WAS legalized they immediately made it official)

#icemav #i loev them so much it hurts #my babies #the sillies #tom kazansky #pete mitchell #bradley bradshaw #carole bradshaw #nick bradshaw #top gun

[secretlywritingstories]

I've not been writing much lately. That feels like a scary thing to put into words. Maybe because I feel like I haven't been able to put things into words lately. Since August, it's been me drudging through sludge and trying to keep moving forward, even as I keep feeling stuck and weighed down.

I'm a prolific writer, I usually operate on a 2k goal a day, and I've always got multiple stories going at the same time, easily jumping around between them, all the while grabbing new ideas too.

I do still have multiple ongoing fics. They have not gone anywhere, and they are very dear to me, but even writing them have been hard. So has starting anything new. My head has been foggy a lot lately, and maybe that's why but it's very shitty and it puts me in such a bad mood.

Which feels even more ridiculous but writing is genuinely so interwoven into my life that I am not sure what I'm doing when I am not writing. Because I am always writing! Even now, I force myself to sit down for at least a little while now and again, and I keep up with the daily journalling, even as the entries get tiny.

Writing is always ups and downs, even if I can usually stabilise it for most parts. I just feel like I've been waiting for the upswing for a while and I am getting suspicious as to why it's taking longer than usual to come around. Even if I can find possible explanations, it does nothing really to ease my mind.

I don't particularly care why. It's doesn't feel like it's going to help me in this scenario. I want to know how to move forward. How to have the energy and focus that I used to pull out so easily. I've been looking back at some of my past stories and it feels almost strange to know that I've written so many.

And they're good! I still feel that, but for now there's a little nagging voice in the back of my mind whispering that maybe the new ones I write won't be good. Objectively, quite ridiculous. Every story is unique, but I've grown as a writer with each one. They are far likely to be better than my old works that worse. But the voice is still annoying. I want to squish it.

Maybe that should be my goal. Tune everything out and find a story that'll allow me to just write without overthinking or having to worry about too much around it. Hmm. Either way, that elusive upswing will find me again, I know it, but man, I would like for it to hurry up. (Please).

#spilled thoughts #my tumblr dabbles #writing about writing

[mchiti]

i saw in your comments on one of your posts that you keep a football journal. that's such a cool idea! can you tell us more about it, like what kind of things you record in it?

Hi anon ❤️ Yeah, it’s actually something I’m very proud of!! It started out cause my brother gifted me some kind of notebook that was world cup related in 2018: it had graphics where you could put all the matches and scores etc. I sadly lost it the following year which genuinely left me heartbroken, so I started again with a new one and I’ve been recording my football knowledge ever since. I know you can just find everything on the internet but I love to write down any match I personally watch, so I know what I’ve witnessed with my own eyes or not! Scores, scorers, which players got my attention…also some silly little info if it’s a team I support or if it’s about players I support. [transfer market infos. My complaints @ chelsea etc]. I used to stick a lot of images on it too but I’ve definitely become a bit lazier lately, but like with the world cup I did it with every match so that I can look back to it when I’ll be older 🇲🇦 💓. I’m a visual person, I love to have something written down, it’s also lot of fun too!

[thecarriebradshawproject]

7/12/2023

Journaling has always helped me in my life. Ever since I got a My Secret Journal when I was a kid. I continued to journal here and there throughout my life, but I always come back to writing about my feelings.

Now that I am writing my feelings on a blog, I truly feel like Carrie Bradshaw (hence the name).

Anyways, I have been in a depression SLUMP! There was signs of it coming, but I didn't have the energy to fight it. It wasn't hurting anyone, but myself, if I sat around all day. Never did anything but numb my brain to get through my days. It really does sound depressing...

I have struggled with depression since I was in about 8th grade (woohoo the American education system failed me). I have struggled with anxiety my whole life, I just didn't realize it until later. This is mostly because anxiety presents itself very differently in children. I was constantly getting sick before school, I would cry A LOT, and I always remember my parents telling me I am like Charlie Brown... So yeah, I have always been an anxious person.

So, I will be 25 next month. My frontal lobe will finally be fully developed. That means it's all downhill from here, right? I mean, I love my career and I can see myself being at my company for years to come. However, it feels like every other aspect of my life is constantly in shambles.

I have some great friends and such a loving family, I really do, but I am not always the best friend or family member. I am not going to lie, I am the person who flakes (sometimes last minute), and I am not scared to turn down invites either. Which makes sense why I am not always invited to things. I really get it. But... I am still feeling so distant from everyone in my life. I get I am not in my hometown anymore, but we are all in the same state! And it feels embarrassing to reach out to someone and basically tell them that I am mentally unwell and I need their support in this not fun time in my life. Sounds like too much for me, so I can only imagine how other people would respond.

I try to keep conversation lines open, but it is so easy to get "busy" or distracted in adulthood. I get this is apart of life, but I cannot recall in my life when my parents did not have their friends around constantly. I remember my mom being on a bowling league, going to concerts, hosting card game nights. I remember my dad racing throughout Michigan, celebrating birthdays at bars, and his bestie would stop by for coffee on most Sunday mornings, even if it was just for one cup.

I love my parents friends and they definitely feel like family. I have joked before that I could show up to my parents' friend's houses unannounced and I would be accepted in with open arms and no questions asked. They all agree this would be true.

Now what do I do when I do not have friends? I know I have not gotten to that yet, but if it keeps going like this, I could see it happening. Can I make new friends with such strong bonds? Will I even make new friends? Will I always just be a miserable person?!

I don't try to be miserable, but I can't help it. I get so sunken into my depression, that I can't even mask it. I always drain poor Justin's energy. I know it can be exhausting dealing with dealing with poor mental health, and I am scared I will continue to push him away. I wouldn't want to marry someone who may just give up on life...

I am slowly sleeping and numbing my way through life. This is not what life is meant to be or at least I don't think it is. However, I have no idea how to fix the damage I have caused to myself... Or how to have a fulfilling life to start with... Is it money, love, family, a career, or maybe even traveling? Who knows? I sure as hell don't know.

Hopefully, I will start getting more direction/answers in life. Hopefully, I do not become a cranky depressed woman who dies alone. I want to be able to reflect on genuine happy moments in my life. I am terrified that it might never happen...

Wish me luck! I truly need it...

#journal #mental health awareness

[infernalrevenge]

Okay, so this is a spur of the moment sort of idea, but is it possible to have a headcanon of the four lords with a s/o who has terrible memory loss. And I don't mean forgetful, think more along the lines of Fifty first dates, like she greets one of the lords and they get talking, lords end up coming back cuz they liked their positive attitude, but when they come to visit again, s/o greets them like they've never met. Does that make sense?

Yeah I think I get what you're saying, though I never really watched the full movie HAHAHA I've only seen half of it but I know how it goes down. Hopefully, whatever I've come up with satisfies your idea :P

To stay true to the idea, reader here has anterograde amnesia -- characterized by not being able to retain short-term memories. They're aware of their own condition.

----------

Alcina Dimitrescu

Understandably, she'd be confused, caught off guard that you didn't remember the time you spent with her.

Honestly she might be so confused that she'll forget to be offended -- not that it would have ever occurred to her that she was bad company in the first place. You were so pleasant to be with too, so... what went wrong?

When you explain it all to her, you might actually be surprised at how quickly she gets it. Definitely isn't the strangest thing she's ever heard of. She knows too what it's like to be around someone with terrible memory -- her patience with Moreau is astounding and one she doesn't extend to just anyone.

(But you aren't "just anyone" to her. You were a warm presence, a ray of sunshine in that time you spent together, however short. She wanted to get to know you better, and if that meant putting much more effort into maintaining that connection with you, then it's nothing she can't do.)

She'll creep her way into your mind (and heart) through song. She'll invite you to the castle and teach you serenades and classical pieces, you sing while she plays the piano. It doesn't matter to her if you sing off-key or add your own silly lyrics -- if she's being honest, sometimes she even prefers your versions.

Every now and then, you do forget the notes and the words, but Alcina doesn't have a problem with going over them again if you hear a "new tune" you found interesting. It's a good thing too that she loves music so much.

One day, she might even catch you humming them while you sit with her in a comfortable silence. You may not be sure exactly how you know the song, but you're glad you're able to make the Lady smile by doing so. Maybe you'll try to learn the words next time.

Donna Beneviento

...was she really so unpleasant that you already forgot about her and the day you spent together?

She'll be so embarrassed if you don't remember who she is, thinking that the other day was a mistake and that she was just imagining the connection you two had. Not to be dramatic but she'll definitely run away in tears.

The best way to remedy the situation is to go after her right away and try to explain the situation. She might not even believe you at first, her anxiety initially convincing her that you made all this up as a way of rejecting her, or that this was all a mean prank. But if you're patient enough, she might come to understand it.

In the process of becoming part of your life, she'll definitely make something that will eventually remind you of her, or someone like her. She just wants something that would stick with you, ideally something tangible.

One day she'd gift you with a doll in your likeness, complete with its own clothes and accessories. She might even include a very small doll in Angie's likeness to go with it, to serve as that reminder.

Once you do get close enough, she says that she would rather have you call her "Donna" than by her formal title. Though this frequently slips your mind, it's no trouble at all for her to remind you. Besides, it's quite cute to see you say her name like you're trying it out for the first time, even if it may have been the eleventh. She loves the way you say her name.

And when it finally sticks to you after enough repetition and you greet her like that without prompting? Her heart just flutters.

Salvatore Moreau

Moreau has always known that he has terrible memory, but after meeting you? He's starting to doubt exactly how bad he could really have it.

As a former doctor, he might recognize the diagnosis you give him after explaining it and he goes "Oh.... Oh!"

He'll be so relieved it's not because you wanted to let him down gently by feigning forgetting the memory of what was literally yesterday (but also he'd understand if you did, he almost threw up on you in excitement. Come to think of it, maybe it was best you didn't remember that part.)

Still, he'd be determined to spend a lot of time with you and become a part of your working memory somehow. Though he knows there's no cure for such an affliction, he'll want to make an effort to include some aspect of himself into your routine.

He'll write you little notes and letters, about how wonderful you are and how you make him feel whenever you two are together. He'll give you a journal so you can write about all the cool things you want to remember later on (and part of him hopes you write about him too.)

(And of course you write about him, who would ever want to forget about the sweet doctor fish man who just wants to be loved and a part of your world.)

One day, he catches a glimpse of one such diary entry -- and he only knew that because he saw the cute little doodle you made of him, along with a small heart next to it. He swears he never meant to pry, but he thinks about it for days and days. He's never been happier.

Karl Heisenberg

Oh he'll be mad at first, for sure. He's likely the type to express first and ask questions later when it comes to these matters, but the anger is more out of confusion than genuine offense.

If you try to explain it, he may just think you're lying at first. "If you wanted me to leave you alone, you could just say so," he'd say. But at the same time, there'd be such a sincerity in your voice that it would be hard for him to keep denying it. Fine... maybe you're not pulling his leg then.

You can't tell me that this man doesn't make trinkets in his spare time. He can be a big mean metal worker all he wants but I can also picture him having made a keychain or two in his life. Maybe even a necklace. They're not perfect or polished by any means, but he just likes making little things with scraps left over from bigger projects.

That said, he'll give you some without much of a second thought. He probably ask you first if you want to keep any the first time you stumble upon his messy workstation at the factory. They looked pretty neat, so you took some of them home.

You might find yourself fidgeting with the moving parts of it, trying to rack your head and remember exactly where you got them and how. Was it on a trip? Did you get these as souvenirs? Why did one of them look like an electric fan with legs?

Sometimes you'll show him all this stuff and talk about how cool they looked. Your favorite might be the one that looks like a hammer, but the fan with legs was a close second. You tell him to be careful of the sharper parts though (wouldn't want him to get tetanus.)

He may or may not get a little embarrassed as you gush about your "new" trinkets. You might offer to give some to him that he likes but he insists you keep them, especially since you like them so much.

#alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #donna beneviento x reader #donna beneviento #lady beneviento #salvatore moreau x reader #salvatore moreau #lord moreau #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg #lord heisenberg #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #re8 #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #alcina dimitrescu headcanons #donna beneviento headcanons #salvatore moreau headcanons #karl heisenberg headcanons #amnesiac reader #anon #inbox #headcanon requests

[ttuesday]

How would the VDL gang members be around their pregnant SO?

hello my dear anon who won’t tell me who they are, I hope you are having a blessed day <3 if you aren’t having a good day then I will gladly give you another slice of bread

Arthur

Arthur is absolutely shocked when you first tell him. He can barely look after himself, how the hell's he suppose to help you look after a baby now too? He doubts himself and his ability to be a good father a lot.

Although the baby's not even born yet (and it'll be a few years before they even learn how to read and write properly) Arthur buys a new journal and keeps it in a chest under your bed. He says he's gonna give it to the baby someday.

He likes spending time with you away from camp. Arthur brings you to many different places but always makes sure there's a good view for the both of you to enjoy. He loves it because it's spending quality time with both you and the baby.

Arthur will ramble on about how ye should both enjoy sleeping throughout the night and not having to change dirty diapers just yet. He'll keep talking about how challenging but fun life's going to be once the baby arrives.

Dutch 

Dutch has always been very hot and cold with his affection. Some times he's all over you and other times he's too preoccupied planning all different types of robberies. 

When you get pregnant, Dutch tries his best to be there for you... Maybe he becomes a little over-bearing but he's doing it because he wants to make sure you and the baby are happy and healthy.

Throughout your pregnancy, Dutch will keep buying new things for the baby. By the time the baby arrives, he's bought 2 prams (Dutch said ye can use one in the summer and the other in the winter), a cot that's full of blankets, a lot of toys and of course, he especially bought the baby it's own designer outfits. 

... yes, he bought all of this with the money from the donations box

Charles

Charles has everything sorted. He stays cool, calm and collected for your entire pregnancy. Even in moments when you freak out, he keeps his composure and helps calm you down.

Charles holds back your hair when you get morning sickness and happily gets you a glass of water and some crackers for you to cautiously nibble on.

If that baby ever starts to kick too hard or decide it'll do a couple of somersaults in your stomach, Charles will hold you and soothe you through it.

A month before you're due to give birth, Charles surprises you with a wooden cot he's made for the baby. It has intricate and detailed carvings of animals out in a grassy meadows and flowers going up the side.

John

John really wants to help. The only problem is, John is terrified of messing things up. When you're pregnant, John sees you as being as delicate as a flower.

Sometimes he'll actually get scared to touch you in case he hurts you. John knows that it sounds foolish but he's still scared.

If you mention that you’re in any pain, John will presume you’re going into labor. One time when this happened, John ran out of the tent to go get help and before you could tell him you were fine, John fainted.

You wouldn’t think John is the type of person to faint a lot but the second he thinks the baby’s coming, he gets so overwhelmed that he just blacks out. He finds it amazing that you don’t pass out at the thought of it and he genuinely believes you’re one of the strongest people he’s ever met.

Micah 

Micah becomes so SO protective of you after you tell him you're pregnant. He was protective of you before, always starting bar fights if a drunk tries to flirt with you but now he reached a new level of protectiveness.

Micah will try his best to convince you not to go out on jobs, saying they're too risky. Yes, You've broken Micah Bell. He now actually thinks about how dangerous a job is.

He doesn't even want you to do chores around camp in case they tire you out. Literally, Micah just wants you to sit there and not do anything for 9 months. And if Grimshaw says anything about you not doing any work, Micah will snap at her to mind her own damn business.

And if you want to go into town for supplies, Micah will insist on joining you. If you talk to Micah about how protective he's being and tell him to back off a little, then he might. He's actually very scared something will go wrong so he'll only back off if you give him a lot of reassurance.

Bill

Bill has absolutely no idea what he's doing. At the start of your pregnancy he was clueless and didn't know what to do or how to help you. And even months into your pregnancy, Bill's still clueless.

When your bump started to show, reality hit Bill. He realized that this was actually happening and he loved every second of it.

He comes up to you at random times during the day and starts talking to the bump, not to you, but to the bump.

When you both go to bed, Bill will keep on of his hands gently wrapped around your stomach. One night while he had his hand resting there, the baby kicked. Bill got so excited he started to cry. 

Sean

When the due date started to near, Sean suggested ye do a practice run of what to expect during labor... but in this situation, Sean wanted to be the one giving birth while you showed him what he’s supposed to do and how he has to help 

Sean also decided to carry around a watermelon for a day to practice being gentle... yes, Sean really did compare your baby to a goddamn watermelon. He tried his best and surprisingly, Sean only broke 4 watermelons in the day.

He broke the watermelons because he kept throwing them up in the air and failed miserably at catching them. On the bright side, at least Sean now knows it's a bad idea to do that with the actual baby.

Some times when he thinks you're asleep, he'll start talking to the baby. He woke you up doing it one time because he was singing to the baby but was completely out of tune.

#pregnancy #tw pregnancy #headcanons #writings #rdr2 #arthur morgan #dutch van der linde #charles smith #john marston #micah bell #bill williamson #sean macguire

[seraphdarlimg]

wish I were (pt2)

 harry acts like everything is good and dandy but reader sees Heather wearing the sweater

part 1 here

‘heather’ by conan gray WARNINGS - ANGST WORD COUNT - 1,892

A/N: hehe because it was december 3rd, I just had to get this chapter done to post even if it might be a little late but here ya go 

____________________________________________________________

      My guitar rested on my thigh as i brought my head down to lay on the fret, staring at the blank piece of lined paper in front of me. I sighed, turning my head away and just bathed in the silence of the separate room from the main studio. The weight on my chest might of suggested the frustration out of my creative block, unable to produce words or lyrics for the past weeks. Or that I was progressively losing the will to even pick up an instrument, as strumming the strings took a lot of energy for me to do. 

The oversized hoodie I brought kept me warm, but i knew that wasn't satisfying enough. However the idea of wearing one of his hoodies I've place in a closed box in the corner of my apartment hurt too much and that now I'm back in the studio after weeks of trying to avoid coming here at all costs. After the New Year's party, I've done nothing but wallow up in my apartment alone, trying to come up with songs as quickly as possible just so I could get this project done and over with. That proved to be difficult however, especially with Harry trying to call on a normal basis.

  "Helllooo bubs, why haven't you been showing up at the studio eh?" "You said at the beginning of this project that I could work at home whenever I want. I'm just taking you up on that offer." "Of course, you'd remember me sayin' that. How've you been love, haven't seen you in a while though." "Fine, just been doing my job." "Well yeah, can't write all these lovely songs without your talent, can I? You gonna come in tomorrow then?" 

I hesitated for a second, biting my tongue when I felt my eyes pool up again. "I'll just send a pdf of lyrics to you Harry." "O-oh. Well that would conventionally work... yes but you have to come in tomorrow though." "Why? Just text me what you like and don't like about the verses and I'll fix them." "Bubs you know how I feel about in person collaboration. Plus the deadlines are coming up and it'll be easier and faster to have you in the studio." "Okay." He hesitates this time and I could see his brows furrowed together as well as having a hand on his hip. Most likely wearing lose sweats and the knitted cardigan he's been falling in love with over the months. His hair a bit longer than it was last time I saw him and his pink lips quirked to the side in thought. Maybe the bags under his eyes are gone, has been looking more happier lately. More happier than I could of made him to be over the months. "Are you okay?" "I have to go Harry, I'll see you tomorrow." "Oh see yo-"

      He was the first one to greet me when I arrived, and I wanted nothing more than to burst out sobbing when I see his smile. It took everything not to do so, giving him a tight lip smile and quick side hug before sitting down farthest away from him. For the first hour and a half of discussion, I didn't say much and zoned off a lot, tuning in and out of the conversation Harry leaded about a song he had written recently. I felt his glances on me when I turned away, probably sensing my unwillingness to comment so he was considerate enough to not put me under the spotlight in the discussion. In the middle of it, Harry's phone started ringing and he didn't waste a second to excuse himself to answer it. "Hello? Oh hey darling, you almost here?" I froze when he grows a cheesy smile on his face as he walks further to the other side of the studio before telling us to continue without him. I took a deep breathe, not mentally prepared to be in the same room as her. Has she always been coming to the studio or did I just choose to worse day to finally come in? I try to focus doodling in my little notebook, but it grew harder and harder to focus on anything else but the way he crosses his arms and laughs while on the phone with her. From the corner of my eye, it was definite he's completely captivated just hearing her voice and I could just picture the angelic tone of it. I didn't realize I was tapping my pencil till I hear Sarah calling out my name, breaking me out of my thoughts. "Are you okay, haven't seen you in a while." I nodded, putting on a smile. "Yeah sorry, been getting a lot of work opportunities and just a bunch of family stuff that's exhausted me." Sarah gives me a look that resembles one of a mother who knows their child isn't telling the full truth, but she nods and pats my hand. "Completely understandable. But that's exciting, new artists been reaching out to you n' all that?" "Ha surprisingly, considering saying yes to all of them." my smile was growing genuine a little, thinking about how content I was with my career. Being a lyricist and songwriter was a definite risky path to take in terms of stability, but it made me happier knowing I was able to to do. "Oh of course, you can totally do it. Probably wanted to see what all the hype was about when Harry couldn't stop talking about you at every social gathering he's been at." Sarah chuckles, rolling her eyes playfully. "Yeah?" I quickly looked down, feeling my eyes water as the pang in my chest came back. "Mhmm, acts like Thomas and Mitch don't even exist." I laugh lightly at that, fiddling with my fingers as I focused down on my notebook. I found myself in an awkward situation, not knowing how to continue the conversation but knowing I didn't want to try. I love Sarah, but I was close to break down right there if I tried and it was not the place to do so. Not when everyone is trying to meet deadlines and Harry was about to walk in with Heather at any moment. "Hey, I actually have a lot of emails to respond to so I'm gonna be in the other room." I stood up, taking a guitar and my notebook. "Might actually be better for me to focus in." "Sure, we'll let Harry know." I gave her a grateful smile, walking out into the hallway to a different room. I let out another shaky breath, feeling overwhelmed once I was finally alone. But before I could close the door, I hear her. I peak out to see both her and Harry standing at the entrance of the building, huddled close together. "Sorry I forget it gets this cold in LA sometimes." She says, looking up at him while he rubs the sleeves of his sweater that was wrapped perfectly around her. It was a simple orange stripped sweater. A vintage that Harry bought in Vienna and became one of his favorites. It was just a simple polyester sweater, but it became my favorite too. So it was hard to give it back after wearing it that night we kissed, but fuck was it harder to see her wearing it. Now as I sit alone with no sense of motivation to do anything else but wallow in my own pity I thought about a lot of things. I should be angry, be fuming and cursing at Harry for how he's been acting. I should confront him, make him feel as hurt as he made me for choosing her. Or maybe I should hate Heather, despise her for taking the chance I had with him. But deep down I know I couldn't hate Heather. She's such an angel, it wasn't her fault he's still hung up on her. And as much as the image of his arm wrapped around her kills me, I couldn't hate him either for the same reason. She looked prettier in his sweater than I did. "You okay in here bubs?" As if the tears welling up in my eyes and heavy weight on my chest wasn't enough, the sound of knuckles against the door and his voice calling out my name made me almost sob. "Yeah, I'm good. Door's open." I quickly try to compose myself when he enters the room, giving me that warming smile of his. "Just wanted to check up on ya, been quiet since you got here." Harry looks at me with concerning eyes as he places a hand on my shoulder before crossing his arms and leaning against the wall in front of me. Keep your hand on my shoulder, the second it was there all the nerves went away. I wanted to say but instead I fake a smile again, waving it off and shrugging. "Oh no, just have a lot on my plate don't worry." He nods, feeling his eyes on me while I try to avoid his by opening my laptop and skimming through my inbox. "Sarah told me about different singers reaching out to you." He points at my laptop before taking a seat on the chair to the side. I nodded, humming while I typed out quick responses. "Yup, thanks by the way but now I gotta sort out a whole schedule for this year." I took a glance up to see him focused on my song journal on the table in front of us.

“So...you and Heather huh?” The sheepish smile he has tugs my heart strings but I tried to keep from fumbling with my fingers.

“Yeah uhh...” He scratches the back of his neck, keeping his eyes on his hands and looking like a young kid with a crush. “Started talking again and catching up, been working out stuff between us since the party.”

I tilt my head to the side, motioning him to continue. “She’s gorgeous...”

“She’s amazing.”

I finally looked away from him and onto my screen, letting out a little chuckle. 

“So you guys are back together?”

“No no, we’re just sort of figuring things out at the moment.” Though it was an answer I was hoping for, the look in his face was none the less comforting. 

“Well, hope everything goes great. You guys look perfect together.” I managed to say, going back to typing while he only responds with a nod and hum.

There was silence. Does he not feel it too? Uncomfortable silence was never a thing between us but it was prevalent here. "Not gonna leave early are you though?" He says out of no where and I stopped typing for a sec to give my attention to him. "Not going to ditch me for someone else of course." He says it with a laugh, playing it off like an obvious joke... but the way he looked at me. Part of me wanted to scream at how oblivious and selfish that statement sounded coming from him, as if he has no idea the drastic shift our relationship has taken. But I see the vulnerability in his eyes, sensing the subtext in his question that is practically asking me to stay. Stick by his side and help finish this passion project he's dedicated to put out, not only for his fans but for himself. Be with him to figure out what to do next, even if I would be in a different county or continent and working with someone else. Keep in touch throughout because I've become an important person in his life. Even if that person who used to fill that spot came back, he's still here and asking me to stay with him in a similar sense. It wasn't the kind of love I wanted, but never the less, it was still love from Harry. Did the smile I wear at that moment reach my eyes? When I placed my hand on top of his in reassurance, was the hesitance obvious? Maybe he did notice the little signs, but he took my hand in his anyways and placed it against his heart. 

"Of course, 'm always gonna here Harry."

____________________________________________________________

part 3

A/N: guys my heart hurts writing this lol. There’s gonna be one or two more parts of this series, but thank you for reading! feedback is appreciated :)

#Harry Styles #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #one direction #harry styles blurb #heather

[elliesguitarstrings]

Here For You

Masterlist

Peter Parker x reader

Summary: Peter comforts you after you reveal your struggles with depression to him.

A/N: Sorry it’s taking me so long to write part 3 of Silence but I promise it will be out soon. I’ve just had a rough couple of days so I wanted to write something that kinda reflects my feelings atm. I know that a lot of people are feeling the same way as I have been, so I’m just putting it out there that I am always open to talk if anyone needs help :)

Warnings: fluff, mentions of depression and suicide, language

~~~~~~~~

You let out a long sigh as you close your computer after the last class of the day. You’re exhausted, you have a pounding headache, and you don’t have a single shred of motivation.

When all of this COVID stuff first started, you didn’t mind doing school from home. To be completely honest, you actually loved it. You didn’t have to talk to all the annoying people in your classes, you could do a large portion of work on your own time, and you had an excuse to stay in your room all day. What’s not to love, right?

Wrong.

After a few weeks, you started to see how terrible it all was. You had to teach yourself everything because your teachers had no clue what they were doing (and they still don’t). You started to get distracted easily. And the worst part: every single fucking day was the same.

You lost all motivation to do anything.

You’re smart, one of the smartest in your class, actually, but your grades were dropping rapidly. You lost track of assignments, turning them in so late you didn’t even get half credit. You procrastinated like crazy, dreading every single day. You stayed up late every night, trying to finish assignments and get back on track. But nothing was working.

You want to change so badly. You want to be one of those girls who keeps a bullet journal with fancy colors and letters, who plans out their entire day with a checklist, who stays on top of their work, and who actually has the motivation to get up out of bed each morning. But you can’t and you aren’t, and you don’t know why.

Plus, right now you were on your period, which was not helping things. At all. You hate feeding the stereotype of girls being all emotional and unstable during their periods, but it’s true. Well, for you at least. When you’re happy, it’s like you’re bouncing off the walls. But when you’re sad, it’s like you’ve fallen into a 300 ft deep hole and you’ll never get out.

You crawl into bed and start sobbing, the only thing you can do right now. You just want it to be over. All of it.

Suddenly, you hear a knock at your window. Your shades are drawn, but you know exactly who it is. It’s Peter. He goes patrolling around the city after school, but he always comes to check on you first, seeing as you’re his girlfriend and all.

You know that if he sees you crying, he’ll want to help you, but the last thing you want is to be a burden on him. Plus, you only started dating a few months ago, and you didn’t want to drive him away by getting all emotional around him.

“Just a sec Pete, I’ll be right there.”

You run to the bathroom and splash some cold water on your face, trying to get rid of the redness and puffiness in your eyes. You pat your face dry with a towel, put on the best smile you can muster, and run back to your room.

You draw back the curtains and open the window, allowing Peter to slip into your room.

“Sorry it took so long for me to get to the window, I um, just woke up from a nap,” you apologize, shutting the window back while he takes off his mask.

“Don’t worry about it! But didn’t school end like 10 minutes ago? How did you fall asleep so fast?”

“Oh, um, my last class got dismissed early, so I was actually done like 30 minutes ago,” you lied, hoping he doesn’t notice.

“Oh, okay, well I’m glad you got some rest. You need it.”

Smiling, Peter stretches his arms out towards you and pulls you into a tight hug, kissing your forehead.

Just that small amount of affection is almost enough to make you burst out into tears again, but somehow you manage to hold it in.

Until Peter pulls back, looks you dead in the eyes and says, “What’s wrong?”

“What? N-nothing’s wrong Peter, I’m perfectly fine.”

“No, you aren’t. I can sense something’s wrong, so just tell me.”

“Peter I swear. Nothing’s wrong! I’m fine!” your voice is shaking.

Peter folds your hands into his, “Y/N, please. I know something’s up. Just tell me.”

That’s when you lose it. You fall back into his arms, sobbing even harder than before. This is exactly what you didn’t want to happen. But there’s no stopping it now.

Peter holds you tight while you cry, letting you bury your head into his chest. He doesn’t ask any questions just yet, he just holds you.

After a few minutes, the tears let up enough for you to pull away, looking at Peter with red, swollen eyes.

“I’m sorry Pete, I’m so so sorry. I- I didn’t mean for that to happen,” you stutter between sobs.

“Y/N, no, no, it’s okay. You can let it out.”

His voice is soft and comforting, and it does actually help you a little bit. He pulls you into another tight hug, repeatedly kissing the top of your head while you continue to cry.

“Come here, lets sit down, okay?” he pulls away slightly.

You nod weakly, and he guides you onto your bed. You both sit down, facing each other, and he takes a hold of your hands.

“Peter I’m sorry, I don’t want to be a burden, you should go do your patrolling, I don’t want to hold you up – “ you start, but Peter cuts you off.

“No, you don’t need to be sorry. And forget about my patrolling. I’m staying here until you’re better, however long that is.”

You smile weakly, to tired to even fight on it.

“Do you want to talk about it? Only if you’re comfortable though, you really don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Peter questions.

You look at Peter for a moment through teary eyes. He was here for you, ready to listen to you and help you. You were hesitant, not wanting to spill all of your feelings out on him, but you’ve already gotten this far, so why not.

“Yeah, sure, but can we cuddle?”

“Of course baby, whatever makes you comfortable. But let me change first, I’m drenched in your tears,”

You chuckle lightly. Peter always knows how to make you laugh.

He changes into a sweatshirt and sweatpants that he left at your house and climbs back into bed with you. He pulls you close to him, and you snuggle into his arms.

“So, talk to me, what’s wrong?” he asks softly.

“Are you sure you want to hear my problems? I really don’t want to be a burden Pete,” you respond, still crying.

“Baby, I’m here for you. I want to help you and make you feel better. That’s what I’m here for.”

He really is the best boyfriend anyone could ask for.

“Well, um, okay. It’s just, I don’t have any motivation to do anything. Not even to wake up in the morning. Even just the simplest tasks seem so difficult, and I feel like I can’t do this anymore Pete. I just can’t do it.”

You start to sob once again, and Peter pulls you into him even closer. He lets you cry and slowly calm down for a few moments before responding.

“Shit, I’m sorry Y/N. I’m so so sorry. I had no idea you felt like that. I mean, I knew school was bothering you, but not to that extent. But please, please please don’t leave me. You mean so much to me and I don’t know what I would do if I lost you,” now he’s starting to cry.

You lay there, Peter’s arms wrapped around you, holding you as close as humanly possible to him, both crying your eyes out.

“Y/N, I’m going to help you. I’m going to do everything I can to help you. Because losing you isn’t an option. So tell me what I can do to help.”

“Thank you so much Pete. You being here Is honestly the best thing you can do right now.”

You snuggle into him, engulfed by his warmth and comfort.

After a long silence, you look at him and smile, genuinely this time, “You know, even though I’ve been sobbing nonstop basically since you got here, just being with you has already made me feel better than I have all week.”

Peter looks back at you and cups your cheek, pulling you in and kissing you softly. Although the two of you had kissed many times before, this one was different. This was pure love.

You pull away, “Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. Thank you so much. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Of course baby. I’m here for you always. No matter what.”

You both smile, going back in for another kiss, much like the last.

This time Peter pulls away forehead still resting against yours, “Y/N, promise me you’ll never leave me.”

“I promise Pete, I promise.”

You snuggle back into his chest, your tears finally diminishing. Although the past few months had been absolute shit for you, Peter had always been there. And you know he always will be. He makes everything better, and you couldn’t be happier to have him in your life.

The both of you start to doze off to sleep, tired from all the crying you had been doing for the past, well, however long it’s been.

Before you fully fall asleep, you whisper, “I love you Peter.”

“I love you too, so much” he whispers back.

And in that moment, you are truly happy.

~~~~~~~~

Taglist (if you want to be added, removed, or changed on this taglist please comment or send in an ask!)

All: @pxkajesus @hollanddolanfangirl @roseke @agentsofparker @lifeasjazzz @damnrancidchicken @loopyolivia @iwannabekilledtwice @rafehogwarts @non-eexistent @rosiexx8 @nearlydanger9 @realityisabitch07 @midgardassassins @jbreenr @cap-marvxl @ellesmythe @depeestcolorgiantopera @that-one-person @clandestine-nerd @nevertrustapanda16 @ohabbyoh @rxmanxff @bubbleskz @quinn-spn58 @baby-pogue @strangebouquetqueen

Peter Parker: @blizzardbabe 

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #spiderman #spiderman fanfiction #peter parker x y/n

[firelxdykatara]

kitty i can't wait for your thoughts of Shadow and Bone asdfasfaw

Ok well I just finished and I have so many fucking thoughts. Most good! Some, less so. Part of it may just be my bias because I’ve only read the Six of Crows duology and have little interest in actually reading the original trilogy, because I know how it ends and Leigh clearly hates me personally and doesn’t want me to be happy (/j), so I was already predisposed to be far more invested in the Crows and Darkling/Darklina segments (genuinely, the Mal/Malina scenes/storyline bored me to tears, and while I appreciate that the show went out of its way to change Mal’s character to make him much less of a toxic douchebag [I’ve read enough excerpts and explanations of his actions in the books to really loathe book!Malina], it isn’t enough to make me ship them when Darklina is right there), but I also don’t think it’s a stretch to say that the Crows absolutely stole the show.

It’s actually kind of funny, because I’d assumed they were only being so heavily marketed to hype the show up even more, since while there’s a lot of TGT/SoC fandom overlap they are also two fundamentally different genres and I’d wager there are a lot of people who are massive fans of one but not so enthused with the other, while remaining fairly insignificant to the overall plot. Turns out, they make up fully half of the show’s runtime (much to my delight). Which is part of what I think will help this series stand on its own, both as a book adaptation and simply as a fantasy TV series.

I’ll put more of my story-specific thoughts under a cut, so there’s lots of show spoilers to follow!

I know that a lot of early reviewers were saying that Alina’s motivations and storyline revolved too much around Mal, and that really held true for me. It made sense in the beginning--he was the only constant in her life, she was thrust into something new, terrifying, and completely unfamiliar, and they’d developed an unhealthy codependence as a coping mechanism for their childhoods and the traumas they faced, the lives they lead growing up in a war-torn country. But she started coming into her power, falling for the General--not just his power and charisma, but what she felt when she was with him. The way he helped her summon the sun, the way she felt free in a way she never had before.

Until it all went to shit--but the Darklina make-out scene in episode 5? Fucking iconic. Poetic fucking cinema. The way they were quite literally about to have sex on that wartable (and someone better write fic of that moment, what if they hadn’t gotten interrupted), and the General left, but then he ran back just to kiss her one more time... this is what OTPs are made of ok.

I think what really bothers me overall is that Alina ultimately lacked agency in her one storyline, pretty much the entire way through. She did make a few choices, but they were mostly incidental, and a lot of it was Alina desperately trying to get back to Mal rather than seizing her own power and destiny and running with it. The most prominent example is the end of episode 5--Alina is having happy make-outs and almost bones the General in his own war room, and then he leaves, and Baghra comes in and infodumps to her about how evil he is and how he’s only using her and she needs to escape.

I recognize that a lot of this is probably because that’s essentially what happened in the book and Leigh is an executive producer for the show so she has a lot of shot-calling power. However, I really think that even in the book this plotline would’ve been better-served by having Alina make these discoveries on her own.

For example, imagine that the letters which were used as framing devices for episodes 2 and 3 were vitally important to the plot, rather than being one-offs that are mentioned a few times but not really affecting much of anything. Alina begins to get suspicious when she doesn’t receive word from Mal, and she starts wondering if her letters are even reaching him--so she starts snooping. She finds ashes in the war room hearth, late at night,, and recognizes a fragment of Mal’s signature and larger piece of her own. She now knows that someone--possibly the General, but maybe that creepy priest guy, or someone else in the palace--is keeping her and Mal from contacting one another. So she starts snooping around even more. She asks the General leading questions, trying to figure out what the truth is of his intentions. She still feels this pull--this connection to him, and she hopes she’s wrong, but she’s not willing to just sit around and wait for the other shoe to drop.

The Winter Fete still happens, she still gets the hot make-out session with the General, and then when he’s called away, she snoops through his papers, looking for anything that can tell her the truth. She finds a hidden compartment filled with journals.

She reads about Aleksander’s past (and, incidentally, wasn’t that supposed to be a huge moment in the books, him revealing his true name to her in private? kinda wish it had been kept that way in the show but who knows where they’ll go with it in the future)--that leads to the flashbacks in episode 6. She feels for him, but she also reads further--she gets a firsthand look at his desire for power, something that began as a noble desire to save his people, but was twisted by a lust for vengeance (for his lost love and all the Grisha who were killed) and shot through with greed, the realization that if he found the Sun Summoner he could control the Fold, rather than just destroy it. He could create a new world where Grisha could live without fear--where Grisha could rule.

Alina is terrified. Whoever the General used to be--whatever humanity she saw flickering in his eyes, the way his heart fluttered when they kissed--she can’t trust that it’ll be enough to save her from plans centuries in the making. So she goes to Baghra, the woman who helped her discover her power, learn to channel it--the woman who always seemed to know much more than she ever let on. Baghra gives her side of the story--Alina got it from the General’s perspective first, now Baghra is telling her something framed much differently. She isn’t sure what or who to trust, but she knows that Baghra seems willing to help her escape--but rather than trusting her ‘loyal Grisha’, she makes the choice she made in the show, to choose the other path, and winds up with the Crows.

Idk how Mal and the Stag thing would fit into this (if it isn’t obvious by now, Mal just... doesn’t interest me), but Alina’s story and her character arc would be so much stronger for it. And she’s supposed to be the central character, so her story being weak and her agency so frequently being compromised ultimately hurts the show as a whole.

I know I’ve gone on and on about Alina and the Darkling (look, I’m a slut for enemies-to-lovers, and also lovers-to-enemies-and-back, so Darklina and Helnik are where so much of my investment is rooted--plus Kanej, but that almost goes without saying), but the true standouts of the series were the Crows. Inej, Kaz, and Jesper, and Nina and Matthias in their episodes, stole the show (along with the Darkling, Ben is far and away the best actor in the cast and I love that for him, but Freddy, Amita, and Kit are also amazing, and Danielle&Calahan were fucking phenomenal as Nina and Matthias--I do have to say, though, that the whole cast is really solid and has amazing chemistry).

They worked together so perfectly--Freddy and Amita communicated so much with their eyes alone, especially together, and a whole lot of their relationship dynamic is rooted in how they exist together, which really came through. The show altered the Crows timeline considerably (I’m pretty sure Kaz would’ve been 14 during the original trilogy lol), so Inej is still at the Menagerie, but things like Kaz putting up the Crow Club for Inej’s freedom, the way Kaz needed her but could never bring himself to say it (until the end of the season dklhfgdkjfgh i SCREAMED)--the way Jesper played off the both of them, and it’s so obvious they all love each other even though they’re criminals and thieves and murderers, and Kaz would never admit it (out loud--which actually feeds into my theory that his love language is acts of service; Kaz does things for the people he cares about, he never announces it and he will almost always try to downplay it, but the way you know he cares is if, for example, he puts his entire life, everything he built, up as collateral for your freedom), but they’re a family.

One thing that I was kind of iffy about was Inej’s refusal to kill--but I thought it might be something they were planning to work into her overall character arc, and they did. It was the one line she hadn’t crossed--in the books, I’d imagine that it took a while for Inej to wind up at that point, being willing to kill on top of everything else. So I actually like that they worked that into the Crows plotline, and Inej killing for the first time was to save Kaz’s life.

Just like Kaz’s first selfless act was to save her.

(He’d deny it, of course. He protects his investments. He needed her for the job. But the truth is, he did it for her. And he’d do it again. Even if he’d never admit it.)

Meanwhile, Nina and Matthias’ storyline was pretty much note-for-note according to their backstory as it was revealed in Six of Crows, and I loved every second of it. Their chemistry was perfect, their journey from enemies to begrudging allies to friends to maybe something more (Matthias’ stomach cockblocking them when they were about to kiss had me fucking SCREAMING AT THE TV, and then of course the whole ‘betraying him to save him’ thing happened and I sobbed), and then suddenly right back to enemies.

Because from Matthias’ perspective, he trusted a witch--believed in her, liked her, wanted her--and she turned on him. He has no idea that she wasn’t the one who knocked him out in the first place, and no reason to believe her, because as far as he knows, she just confirmed everything he’d ever been told about Grisha. That they are deceitful and treacherous, would turn on you as soon as look at you, that they are dangerous and not to be trusted. It wasn’t revealed in-show but I imagine Matthias’ backstory is largely the same, which means that his entire family was slaughtered by Grisha when he was a young boy, and then he was turned into a brainwashed child soldier by the witch hunters and never knew anything else.

They are perfectly primed for their SoC arc next season and I, for one, am so stoked to see the rest of their journey. And if I slip Netflix a couple twenties, maybe they’ll let Helnik have a happy ending please please please.

Anyway, yeah! I have a lot of thoughts but things are still percolating in my head so I’ll probably float around the tags for a bit and let things settle. This is just a preliminary overview of my thoughts in the immediate aftermath of bingeing the entire show in one night kldfjghdkjfhgkjgf

EDIT TO ADD: I CAN’T BELIEVE I FORGOT ABOUT THE TRUE STAR OF THE SHOW, M I L O

MILO BEST BOY. MILO THE MVP. MILO DESERVES ALL THAT IS GOOD IN THE WORLD AND I HOPE HE LIVES A HAPPY AND HEALTHY AND FULL LITTLE GOAT LIFE.

#shadow and bone #kanej #helnik #darklina #sab spoilers #alina starkov #the darkling #inej ghafa #kaz brekker #jesper fahey #malina salt #asked #cobraonthecob

[lizaloveslevihan]

if you have some angsty writing energy rn: hc where jean notices that hange hasn’t fully grieved or come to terms with erwin and moblit’ deaths, so he gets over his fear of levi to ask him with how to help hange because he’s so concerned for her

Title: Hange-san

Ao3 Link: Here

Notes: I also got some inspiration from this beautiful art I saw on Twitter.

They weren’t really close by any standards. Thinking about it, they probably just had two or three conversations the entire time Jean had known him. But his utter devotion was enough to catch anyone’s attention. If he wasn’t screaming at her to take care of herself, he did it silently by running each tiny errand and sticking with her like glue. He always walked by her side — shoulders hunched from obvious stress, hair a little unkempt, but hazel eyes as bright as ever, taking in every word she said despite the obvious dark circles underneath them. It was almost as if her personality and lifestyle were being injected into him, giving him life. 

Jean hadn’t really understood the nature of their relationship before — couldn’t comprehend the idea of someone so willing to put up with Hange-san’s eccentricities and borderline craziness, day in and day out, especially given their slightly above average wages. It hadn’t seemed romantic at first glance by any means (he would have gotten a different vibe from them if it were the case) but rather, it was fueled and strengthened by a strong sense of loyalty and attentiveness. Those in the Survey Corps had dedicated their hearts to fighting titans and ensuring freedom for humanity, and though vice-captain Moblit Berner essentially did the same, it was as if a large chunk of his heart was dedicated only to Hange-san. 

Jean paused, taking that new idea in. He stood outside the newly-appointed commander’s office, the journal he found tucked securely at his side. He had been hesitant to see her, especially after yesterday. She had asked him privately, eyes devoid of any emotion, tone full of anguish, if he could clean and clear out the former vice captain’s room. He understood her pain and had somehow expected this request — they were all grieving, having lost all those people — but he didn’t expect to feel pain over the task given to him. 

His room was neat enough when Jean entered it yesterday morning. The bed was made, the shelves free of dust, and each article of clothing folded neatly inside his small closet. The only thing out of place was his desk which had mountains of paperwork that still lay on top of it. 

He didn’t know him that well. They weren’t really close. But as Jean shuffled through and organized every piece of paper, every work of art, each sketch of an unfamiliar face, he felt his chest tightening. He vaguely remembered the vice-captain being an excellent artist, but he didn’t realize just how talented he was. 

For some reason, he wasn’t surprised to see Hange-san’s face more so than the others. He had drawn her messy hair and wild eyes so perfectly that Jean felt as if he wasn’t worthy to even touch those pieces of paper. Some of them were hastily drawn, some with exquisite detail. He also saw sketches of her with captain Levi, and his eyes widened at one particular portrait where he was drawn gripping his teacup and smiling at her tenderly. 

Damn it, Jean thought as he gingerly placed those papers back down on the desk. He would have loved to take lessons from the vice-captain if he only knew just how amazing he was. He had always been passionate about making art and drawing things he saw in his dreams back when he was younger. But of course, he had buried it in the face of reality. Seeing these sketches lit up a fire inside him. A fire that both consisted of his long-lost passion and the grief and sorrow he had tried to conceal ever since they returned from Shiganshina. He had looked around the room and let out a deep breath. No, he couldn’t allow himself to linger too much on those thoughts. He knew if he kept thinking about the warm, artistic vice-captain, he would be plunged into a deep abyss. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stop seeing every single face that they lost, especially him. Especially that warm, freckled face full of joy and compassion. That face which had looked at him with so much respect and admiration.

Shaking his head, he forced his mind to turn blank. He started to stack all those papers neatly on top of one another, finally freeing the desk of its mess. However, that was what exactly led him to find the dreaded journal whose contents would continue to haunt him for the rest of the day. 

Jean shook his head and looked up, staring at the door to her office. He had been plagued by those thoughts since that task. The commander had ordered him to drop all of his things in her office and so far Jean had made two trips without her being in there. He had a feeling, however, she was behind those doors this time around. He internally debated with himself if he should enter now or wait for her to go to town, seeing as she had a meeting with Zackley later today. However, before he could even decide, the door swung open. Jean jumped up, a little startled, and was met with captain Levi’s usual impassive expression. 

“What are you doing here, Jean?” the captain asked, raising an eyebrow. He crossed his arms and lingered at the doorway. 

“I, uh,” Jean started, scratching the back of his neck and trying to keep eye contact as much as possible, “I’m here to hand the commander some of—”

“It’s Hange,” the captain cut him off, now closing the door behind him. “I know you’re obligated to call her by that title, and that’s fine for formal occasions, but I want you to keep calling her what you and the other brats call her as much as possible, alright?”

The captain didn’t elaborate any further, which made Jean a little uneasy. He gripped the journal tighter and nodded. He already had a good feeling as to why he would ask such a thing. 

“At ease,” the captain spoke quietly, placing a hand on Jean’s shoulder. “You and the brats did well.” Jean looked down and saw… pride? relief? emotions that weren’t normally seen behind the captain's light gray eyes. He allowed himself to briefly recall what had happened on the rooftop. How the captain kept moving forward despite all the pain and loss he endured was unbeknownst to Jean. But then again, that’s what all of them have been doing ever since they joined the Survey Corps, wasn’t it? Is this how his life would always be like? Taking in loss after loss and moving forward from each friend? Forced to kill others with no hesitation? Valuing certain lives and sacrificing others? Clearing out each empty bedroom after every mission? As he was nearing that dark abyss, the captain pulled him out by saying: “Don’t blame yourself with what happened with Reiner, alright? If I only had killed him before he transformed, maybe we wouldn’t have been in this goddamn mess.” the captain recalled briefly, shaking his head and scrunching his eyebrows, “Hange’s inside. Don’t linger too much. She still has a lot of things to do.” and with that, he made his way past Jean and went off across the hallway. 

Jean couldn’t help but stare after the captain. He had already come to terms with the fact that it was him who let Reiner get away. That it had all been his fault. But here was the captain, who, the same as Hange-san, took the blame and responsibility for letting the armored and beast titan escape. He felt that it came from more than their positions as superior officers but from their genuine kindness. Their desire to look over everyone. He felt both comforted and pained because of it. 

He also couldn't help but think of what the vice-captain had said about captain Levi in his journal...

He shook his head once again. They needed time. He needed time. He already had enough things to deal with because of the damn journal. With a deep sigh, he walked towards the commander’s office and knocked thrice on the door. After he heard a small, muffled “come in,” he pushed it open and was surprised to see her not behind her desk, but standing by the window, looking out at the training grounds across them.

“I’ve brought the last of his things, Hange-san,” Jean said as he closed the door behind him. When she didn’t respond, he shuffled his feet nervously and looked around the office. Bookshelves were covering both sides of the wall, a large desk pressed at the very back, littered with numerous paperwork and books, and the two large windows on either side of which. It felt a little stuffy if he were being completely honest. He had been to Hange-san’s lab before where things were much more chaotic and disorganized, but much more full of life. This place, well, felt like it didn’t belong to her at all. 

Which was pretty much a given, considering she had just moved in. The place still embodied the late and great Erwin Smith. 

After a few seconds passed, she finally turned around and flashed him a small smile. 

It was obviously forced.

“Thank you, Jean,” she spoke, walking up to him and gently taking the journal from his outstretched hands. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she inspected the object. “I… forgot this existed.”

Jean simply nodded, not really knowing what to say. He still felt incredibly awkward. 

The commander kept looking at the old, worn-out book as she took a seat behind her desk. She still hadn’t removed the bandages that covered her damaged eye. “This was what he always carried around whenever we did the experiments on those titans. Even if we weren’t doing them, actually. I remember him telling me how his life’s work was here, should he die in the field. How I should inherit it, on the assumption that I’d live longer than him…”

Jean would have had no problem with this conversation if only he didn’t open the book and flipped through the pages himself. Yes, he would be pained, but not as pained if he didn’t read through the long letters that the vice-captain had left in that book. If he hadn’t digested every tiny sketch and word. He had no business in doing so, perhaps he could even get punished should Hange-san find out what he had done, but he couldn’t help the curiosity that sparked within him. Only if he could turn back time. He wished he’d never read those letters. It was just too much. 

“He… saved you, didn’t he Hange-san?” Jean muttered respectfully, his body incredibly stiff. She looked up at him, her face just so tired. “When Bertholdt transformed, he pushed you to safety…?”

“I knew it would come to that one day.” the commander said both wistfully and solemnly, “I’ve always been a handful. Careless. Absentminded. Reckless.” she listed off, drumming her fingers on the wooden desk, “I keep getting too close to the mouths of titans. I was more than okay with dying. Especially if it meant I had contributed one way or another to humanity’s freedom. There was this myth I had read before, you know? It was in a storybook meant for children to warn them to never leave the walls.”

At this, she stood up and started walking around the room. “It was a tale of this child who was given wings by his uncle, or was it his father? I couldn’t quite remember. They were trying to escape and leave this tower by flying away. The older man had warned him not to fly too close to the sun, but the boy, being this curious little thing, didn’t listen. Thus, his wings were burned and he fell to his death.” the commander laughed bitterly, her fingers trailing the bookshelves on the left side of the room, “He had always warned me not to fly too close to the sun, Jean. But I still did. Instead of me, it was him who suffered the consequences. It makes me wonder… what if one day, I’ll have this chance again? What if I fly, soaring through the clouds, and my recklessness or heroism or whatever the rest of you would call it, would cause me to fly too close to the sun?”

Jean wanted to leave. He didn’t like the words that were coming out of the commander’s mouth. He wanted to shut himself in his room and maybe sleep this whole thing off. He didn’t want to think about her dying, or anyone for that matter, especially after the loss they were still trying to deal with. That story upset him more than he realized, especially since it didn’t seem too far-fetched at this point, considering all the gruesome deaths he had seen. He knew it was the grief talking and the pressure from her new position, but still, it unnerved him to see someone he always knew was filled with life looking so dead inside. 

“You meant a lot to him, Hange-san,” Jean replied, trying to keep the emotion from his voice. You meant a lot to him more than anyone in this world, if he were being completely honest. “We always want to keep the people we care about safe, sometimes even if it means sacrificing our lives. He will always live on, in you — in us. You don’t have to carry this burden alone.”

Jean didn’t really know what he was saying — the words he uttered felt meaningless in the grand scheme of things — but he knew they were words that needed to be said. After reading those things, well, he felt as if he needed to give her as much assurance as possible. 

The commander gave him a tight-lipped smile, her remaining eye tearing up. She approached him, and it was only then Jean finally noticed how she had a slight limp in her step. How her shoulders were tight and slumped forward. She placed a hand on his shoulder and nodded at him. “Thank you, Jean. You don’t know how much that means to me. You’re a great kid and I hope you know that you’ve proven to be an invaluable asset to not only the Survey Corps but to humanity as well. And,” Jean met her eye and his chest tightened once again in seeing it glimmer with a sense of pride, “thank you for cleaning Moblit’s room. I could have done it myself but…”

“I understand, Hange-san,” Jean said, his voice surprisingly reassuring despite the overwhelming amount of emotions he felt. She finally said his name. “I really do.”

The commander smiled a little brighter this time — the most genuine one yet, “Thank you.” and Jean felt that statement didn’t only apply to this situation. “Once we settle everything with Zackley, I’ll let you kids take a much-needed break. You mentioned your mother lives in Trost, is that right?”

“Yes, along with the rest of my family,” Jean replied, the prospect of seeing his mother again warming him up. He still wasn’t able to visit her due to the situation at hand, but he was eager to finally do so. He had always been reluctant in the past due to his embarrassment, but now he understood how superficial those fears were. He was so lucky, luckier than most, that he still had a family to go back to at the end of the day. 

The commander nodded before squeezing his shoulder. “Make sure the rest of your squad finishes up their reports, alright? I want them on my desk tomorrow morning.” 

“Understood, Hange-san.” Jean nodded in return, offering her a small smile. 

She finally stepped away and Jean took this opportunity to carefully walk to the door. However before he could open it, the commander called him once more. 

“Don’t blame yourself over anything, alright?” she said, crossing her arms, her voice now laced with a sense of authority, “It was always my decision. It was always my responsibility. I hope you remember that.”

He felt a knife pierce at his heart from her words — the same words the captain had told him no less than twenty minutes ago. He recalled the letters he had read from the vice captain’s journal and Jean couldn’t help but smile at the thought. He wondered briefly if he should get Hange-san to leave for her meeting with Zackley first before opening up the book and reading through everything in it, something Jean was sure she was going to do once he left her alone. But how could he possibly tell her without causing suspicion? How could he possibly tell her that whatever she was about to read could potentially break her? More so than she already was?

He couldn’t, because he shouldn’t have read those things in the first place. He shouldn’t have let his curiosity get the best of him. So instead, he simply nodded and quietly muttered a “thank you” before leaving. 

He went down the other hallway to make sure he wouldn’t come across captain Levi. He needed to clear his thoughts before he could face them anytime soon. Jean wondered what his reaction would be if he read those letters as well. He let out a large sigh. Either way, it couldn’t possibly be as bad as Hange-san’s.

*******

The next couple of days had been surprisingly normal enough. They had filed reports, went into countless meetings after the other to discuss the situation regarding what they had found in Shiganshina, all the while still sending letters to each family who had lost a member in the battle. He didn’t see much of the commander other than the times they had to present themselves to Zackley, during which she acted completely fine — delivering each line with that of a smooth and authoritative manner. Other than that, she was gone — either in her office or delivering each letter of condolence personally. When he heard of that, his respect for her had grown even more immensely. She was an unbelievably kind and compassionate leader, and Jean felt even more honored to be working with her. 

The promised day-off eventually came. Hange-san could only give everyone three days, seeing as recruits were going to be entering the Corps soon which meant Jean and the rest of his friends had to work on training them. Either way, he was glad to be getting some time to spend with his family. His mother was for sure going to dote on him to no end, but surprisingly, he was looking forward to it. 

Already dressed in his civilian attire with his carry-on pack by his shoulder, Jean made his way to the commander’s office once more to inform them of his departure. He had visited Sasha earlier at the hospital and was pleased to know that she would be discharged later today and would be going to her family straight after. He offered to wait for her and drop her off himself, still wary of her injury, but Connie had offered to do it in his place. Eren, Mikasa, and Armin having no place to go opted to go around town for the day, and Floch had already left to visit his own family which basically meant Jean was the only one left in headquarters. 

He finally rounded the corner and was about to knock on the old wooden door when he heard a loud crash followed by a screaming match. He immediately stepped back, feeling his blood run cold at the sounds. Only two people could possibly be behind those doors, and he didn’t like that he was hearing any of these things right now. He was lucky that the doors were thick enough to muffle the details of their conversation or their screaming match, but he still picked up on certain sentences.

“He would know exactly what to do next!”

“You’re not supposed to be him! Don’t you understand that?!”

Should I just leave? Make a run for it? Hange-san would surely understand, Jean thought to himself, panic building up in his chest. He recalled that time in his childhood where his parents would fight over food or jobs or whatever adults had fought about. He always felt uncomfortable and disheartened, thinking his parents hated each other and would never get along again. He didn’t like seeing the ugly things that had transpired between them. However, before he could even decide, the door suddenly slammed open, but this time, instead of captain Levi, Hange-san came out, walking briskly and angrily. She didn’t even notice Jean standing there and moved past him, shoulders scrunched together, a frustrated hand running through her already messy hair. 

“Oi! Hange!” captain Levi exclaimed, suddenly appearing by the door frame, running a hand through his hair as well. The bags under his eyes were deeper, as usual, his cravat loose around his neck. His cheeks were slightly flushed, but it was obvious it was not in a good way. He was about to kick the door frame when he finally noticed Jean. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

His voice was a little hoarse, and a chill ran down Jean’s spine as he took all of it in. This was too personal, this was none of his business, and so why was he getting roped in again? 

“I was just about to report my departure to Hange-san—”

“Well, she’s obviously not here anymore,” the captain cut off in frustration, his eyes narrowing up at him. Jean didn’t like how he was seeing a new side to captain Levi, didn’t like seeing him so frustrated and lost. “Goddamnit what have I done…” he muttered to himself.

Jean could have just told him he was leaving. He could have just nodded and excused himself, headed straight to the stables, and made his way back to Trost. They would eventually forget about this incident as it would cool down, and all would be well. 

But Jean remembered the letters. He remembered those words. He remembered her tired, broken expression from days ago. Jean knew what it was like to be a leader — to have people look up to you and count on you. He knew how it felt to think you weren't good enough, to think you weren’t special and how people shouldn’t trust you because you lacked certain skills or that you weren’t perfect enough. He looked at the captain, stared right into those intimidating gray eyes, and felt a surge of confidence within him. 

“Captain, you know her better than anyone else,” Jean spoke, reiterating the Moblit Berner’s words, “What can I do to help her?”

The captain was slightly taken aback by Jean’s words. He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, studying him carefully. “Why are you—”

“Because I care about her.” Jean said firmly, “And I respect her. And I want to help.”

Captain Levi simply stared at him. Jean would be lying if he said he didn’t feel awkward. They were still soldiers, after all. Captain Levi was still his superior officer, and having heart-to-heart conversations was something they didn’t essentially do. There wasn’t any room for sharing feelings — it opened up vulnerability and that was something you couldn’t have out in the field. Especially since the battlefield they now had was much wider than before. 

Jean was prepared to get shrugged off. He was prepared to leave without getting any answers. But the captain had sighed, fixed the cravat around his neck, and spoke softly: “Come inside.”

It was now Jean’s turn to be taken aback. Nevertheless, he followed the captain inside and was even more taken aback by the sight in front of him. 

The commander’s desk and seat were turned upside down, forcibly, he presumed, with books and papers scattered around it. He stopped in the middle of the room and heard the captain sigh as he closed the door behind him. “Help me fix this shit, Jean. I can’t have this lying around here.”

Jean didn’t ask any more questions. He already knew the answers as to how this had happened. He wanted to know why, of course, to satisfy his curiosity, but at the same time, he didn’t. He dropped his satchel on the floor and proceeded to pick up the scattered papers and books, making sure not to step on them as much as possible. The captain also did the same, kneeling down and gathering everything in his arms. Once they were finished, they placed everything on the corner of the room, underneath the right window, and started to turn the desk upright once more. Jean took one side, the captain taking the other, and together they lifted and placed it back where it had originally sat. After which, Jean took the chair and pushed it back against it while the captain took the books and paper and placed everything neatly the desk. They worked in silence the entire time — the friction from their fight or whatever had happened in here a few moments ago, still lingered and Jean was afraid to pierce through it. 

“I had served under two commanders,” the captain said suddenly as he filed through each piece of paper. Jean looked up and stared at him. “Shadis was alright — you already know most of his story anyway, but he was still a good leader. He had the drive, but still lacked some of the talents. And then Erwin came along…”

Captain Levi let out a deep sigh as he started inserting some of the papers in between the pages of a book. “Erwin... was a special man. He was one of the greatest assets to humanity. I don’t think I really need to tell you any more now, do I?”

He was right. Erwin Smith had been a special man. He was one of the greatest minds Jean had ever seen. He was an incredible strategist, an inspirational and respectable figure — all that and more. He had a feeling, however, that it wasn’t really about that. Jean was sure the captain just didn’t want to talk about him in general, at the moment. And really, who could blame him? Especially after what had happened on the rooftop? 

Jean shook his head and looked down. A few tense seconds passed before the captain continued: “He never made any miscalculations. We all had a feeling Hange would be next in line and we had been right. Hange was the only one who had stood up to him, the one to push forward ridiculous and extreme ideas that could have gotten all of us killed. She thought differently and wanted to look at things from a different perspective. Hange…” at this, Jean looked up to see the captain’s expression light up, “was always the best choice. All of us knew this. All of us but her.”

He sighed and started to mindlessly look through some of the books now. “It’s not easy, being in her position. She thinks she doesn’t deserve it. But she does. I’ve been with Hange for a long time now, Jean. I know you brats are there, but we’re the only ones who just… have each other left. She was there when I had first entered the Corps and had been with me ever since. But Erwin and Moblit? They had been with her way before I was ever in the picture.”

It was the first time he had mentioned the vice captain’s name, and Jean had to stop himself from thinking too much about the letters again. One would think he’d get over it at this point, but it was much harder than he thought. 

He continued once more: “Anyway, I’ve never been good with this shit, Jean. But you brats are just real nosey, huh?” he said, and Jean couldn’t tell if he was being serious or playful — maybe both. “The truth is, you being concerned and sticking your nose up to where it doesn’t belong is already helpful. You being here, following each command, and being the leader that you are is helpful. Just by staying alive, you’re already helpful. You, well, you’re already fucking helpful if you ask me. Hange knows this, and it may not look like it, but she’s thankful for all the little shit you and the brats do.”

It had taken him a few seconds to fully understand what the captain had meant, but he eventually did. Jean didn’t know what kind of answer he was expecting, but those words flowed through his heart and made him feel good inside. He didn’t realize he was already doing enough. He was just doing the bare minimum, wasn't he? But the captain had a point. If he continued to stay by their side, to stay by Hange-san’s side and follow her wherever she had lent them, then it could help erase the doubts she had regarding her position. Just by staying alive, he was helping her feel better. Just by being there for as long as possible — just like Moblit and Erwin, like captain Levi — was enough. 

But he also had a feeling that the captain didn’t want him, or any of his friends, to worry about their situation. He couldn’t explain it, but those were just the sort of parents did for their children. And though Jean would probably never admit it, Hange-san and the captain were quickly stepping up to be parental figures to them already. 

The captain finally took out a single piece of paper from the stacks and held it up slightly. Jean saw it had been the sketch of him and Hange-san, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight. 

“Vice-captain Moblit was really talented, wasn’t he?” Jean finally spoke up. The captain nodded in front of him and traced the outline of Hange-san’s smiling face on paper. 

Captain Levi’s lips twitched a little upright. “He really was.”

*******

Though the journey back home was a long and tedious one, Jean was grateful to have had the time to himself to ponder on his thoughts. Captain Levi ordered him, or was it a friendly suggestion? not to speak about this to Hange-san. He then parted to look for her which enabled Jean to finally leave. 

He thought a lot about the letters, about the myth Hange-san had told him days ago, about the captain’s words, and even about the late commander Erwin.

The sun was setting when he had arrived home. As he passed through the neighborhood he grew up in, he couldn't help but feel both excited and terrified. The threat of the titans was now over, right? But now they were facing an even bigger menace. Would his home be safe? Would the people they had fought so long to protect inside the walls be safe? 

“Jean-boy!”

He turned and saw her face. She stood at the front of their house which surprisingly looked the same after all this time. She was excitedly waving her hand, and once he got closer, he saw that tears were falling from her eyes. Once he stopped in front of her, he quickly dismounted his horse and enveloped him in her arms. 

“You’ve grown so big! Oh my boy!” she exclaimed, clutching the back of his shirt and pressing her face against his chest. Jean hugged her back eagerly and tried his best not to let his emotions take over. But it had been a long couple of days. His body still ached from the battle, his brain was consumed by too many thoughts, and his heart still grieved the lives of all of the people they had lost. He couldn’t believe he had taken her warmth and comfort for granted so many times. Who did he think he was, trying to shove her out of his life because he didn’t want to be embarrassed? 

“I’m home, mom,” he said, finally closing his eyes and inhaling her scent. She laughed happily before disentangling herself a little, looking up at him to study his face. Her eyes were watery, the lines around them having deepened. Her hair also started to have gray streaks and Jean felt his heart ache at the sight of her much older form. “I have your favorite already waiting for you in the kitchen. I also cleaned your room so you better change and wash up before we eat dinner, alright? I’m so glad you’re here my Jean-boy.” she said, hugging him again. 

He truly was home. 

*******

A wave of nostalgia hit him the moment he had entered his childhood room. True to her word, everything was neat and tidy. His bed was made, desk free of any clutter, and the window was left a little open to let some of the breezes go in. He exhaled, closing the door behind him and moving to lay on his bed. He was both physically and emotionally exhausted and wanted nothing more now than to close his eyes and sleep. He wondered what the others were doing at this very moment. They had been through together so much that it felt weird not to have any of them near him. It was probably the first time in a long time he was going to sleep in his bed, in his own room, without anyone else around. Letting out a deep sigh, he willed himself to stand up, grab the satchel he had brought with him, and place the contents atop his desk. 

As he rummaged through his things, he wondered if there was something he still could do for Hange-san. Though he took the captain’s words to heart, he couldn’t help but feel like doing something for her either way. Something that wasn’t too outrageous that would give her the wrong idea. Something that he himself would do, something that was uniquely his. Afterall, the captain said that just by doing what he did, he would be able to help. He eventually found his answer when he opened one of the drawers of his desk and found his old sketches and art supplies from long ago.

He immediately stopped what he was doing and gingerly took out his old artworks. The passion he felt was still there, tingling the back of his neck as he stared at the portrait of the woman he had seen in his dreams. His lips tightened as he realized that the woman he had drawn resembled Mikasa so much. He really only had eyes for her from the very beginning, huh? Shaking his head, he looked through some of his old work and realized then and there exactly what he needed to do. 

He may not be as good as the vice-captain, but it was the least he could do. Besides, maybe once he went through with this little project, he would finally be able to release all his thoughts about this matter. He was relieved to see there was still some paper and pencils left. Nodding his head, he closed the window, placed the papers back down, and proceeded to change into a cleaner and much more comfortable shirt. He’ll have time to do this later after dinner. But for now, there some much-needed time to be spent with his family. 

*******

He found himself back in front of the commander’s office once again, days later. This time, he carried with him two scrolls of paper. He stopped and listened intently, making sure no one was arguing behind the doors before knocking. 

He let himself in the moment he heard Hange-san’s voice. She was seated behind her desk, finally sporting a dark patch on her injured eye. “Ah, welcome back, Jean. Did you need anything from me?” she asked as Jean closed the door behind him. 

“I just came by to drop some things off for you, Hange-san,” he spoke lightly, feeling incredibly nervous. He scratched the back of his head as he approached her quietly. 

She looked so much better this time around. She had discarded her military coat and her bolo tie was tied securely around her neck for the world to see. Her glasses were impeccably clean and gleamed when she looked up at him, her hair nicely framing her face. She seemed much more relaxed, and it didn’t feel like when she was going through meetings and such where she acted fine. This time, she actually did look genuinely alright and at peace. 

Jean wondered how she and the captain had spent those three days. He had a feeling, once again, that they had spent it together. He could tell that the captain had something to do with the improved state she was currently in. Either way, Jean was happy to see her like this. 

“I… had seen vice-captain Moblit’s sketches,” Jean started right off at the bat, not wanting to make a bigger deal out of this than it already was. He saw more than the sketches, of course, but she didn’t need to know that. The commander didn’t look upset or surprised, which made Jean continue: “And I had been sort of an artist too, you see, but obviously not as good as him.”

He carefully handed her the two scrolls of paper, and she raised an eyebrow before taking it from his grasp. “When I returned home and saw my old work, I realized that I wanted to do something for you, Hange-san. No one put me up to this, and I hope, for my sake, you don’t tell the others.”

He added that last part, a light blush dusting his cheeks. If any of his friends found out about his old hobby, they would tease him to no end and demand to see some of his old work. 

She carefully inspected the two scrolls before putting down the second one and gingerly opening the first. She gasped, her hand flying straight to her mouth as she looked on and stared at the portrait in front of her. 

“Oh Jean…” she said, her voice cracking with emotion, “I can’t believe you did this.”

Jean had a pretty good memory of things. He remembered the vice captain’s worried, concerned face. He remembered the former commander’s authoritative expression. And of course, how could he forget captain Levi’s tiny smirk or Hange-san’s bright eyes?

It felt awkward, putting those visions on paper. He felt his heart clench at the sight of his portraits. But he powered through, and Hange-san’s expression made it all worth it. 

She traced her fingers over the etched lines. She lingered, he noticed, over commander Erwin’s and vice-captain Moblit’s face. She smiled and laughed brightly as tears now streamed from her remaining eye. Jean had drawn them all together, side by side, arms around one another. It had been a product of his imagination, but he had to admit it wasn’t as bad as he thought. 

“Why? How?” she said, her voice breaking. She placed down the paper and gently removed her glasses to wipe some of the tears from her face. 

Jean looked down and shuffled his feet, “He never really had any portraits of all of you together. I thought well, that shouldn’t be the case.”

“Do I even want to know what’s in the other one?” she said teasingly before clearing her throat and putting her glasses back on. Her smile was absolutely infectious, and Jean was happy it was seemingly etched permanently onto her face. 

“I think you do,” he said, clearing his throat as well. That particular portrait was the first one he had finished, and he loved how it had turned out. He was also grateful for the creative outlet. He had to admit, he missed indulging in these kinds of things. Who knew when the next time he’d be able to do something like this again? 

Hange-san laughed — a bright and beautiful melody that continued to light up the room. She shifted her attention to the unopened scroll, picked it up, and proceeded to unroll it. However, unlike the first one, she remained silent, her eyes widening at the sight. A few minutes had passed before she pursed her lips, her fingers shaking a little, before rolling it back up and setting it back down on her desk. She studied Jean carefully, and he could tell that perhaps she was picking up on the idea that he may have read those letters. Nevertheless, she stood up, shook her head, and quickly strolled to him and hugged him. 

“Thank you, Jean,” she said after a few seconds, and Jean allowed himself to snake his hands behind her and hug her back. He closed his eyes and a small part of him reprimanded himself for being so soft, for sticking his nose into other people’s business, for doing all of these rather embarrassing things. But life was short. He needed to express his feelings to others before it was too late. He needed to tell people he cared about them before it was too late. He felt the magnitude of her gratitude from those small, common words. From the way she had tightly clutched the back of his shirt. They pulled away — the hug being a rather brief and short thing, just as captain Levi entered the room. 

“What are you two doing?” he asked, closing the door behind him and crossing his arms. Jean turned around to see a curious and wary expression on his face. Hange-san laughed behind him, and Jean then and there witnessed how the captain softened at the sound. His shoulders relaxed, his lips parted slightly, and his eyes gleamed in wonder. 

“Nothing,” Hange-san sang as she approached him. “Are you ready to go?”

“The horses are already waiting for us,” the captain said gruffly, but Jean could tell he was pleasantly surprised by the commander’s tone and attitude. “What are you and Jean—”

“I’ll tell you later, okay?” she spoke heartily, moving to grab her civilian coat from the coat stand by the door. “We’ll be meeting with some of the press, alright Jean? We’ll be back later tonight. I believe Levi over here is planning on cooking for everyone.”

“Oi! That was supposed to be a secret!” the captain exclaimed, his eyes sneering at her. Hange-san shrugged before approaching Jean and laying a hand on his shoulder. She smiled at him once again which Jean reciprocated. She whispered another “thank you” before patting his head affectionately. “Please don’t tell the others, Hange-san,” he spoke quietly, only for her to hear. 

“I won’t.” she assured, “But you have to know that I can’t keep anything from this grump right here,” she said, her head tilting towards the captain’s direction. 

“What are you idiots talking about?” the captain eyed suspiciously, moving to approach them. 

“I know.” Jean scoffed, his eyes gleaming. Hange-san nodded before swiftly looping her arm around the captain’s and dragging him out the room. “Come on! We’re going to be late!”

Jean followed them out the door and saw their figures moving down the hallway. Captain Levi stopped her suddenly as if asking her once again what she and Jean had been doing. The commander laughed before patting his head affectionately which then made the captain gently kick her leg. He then started to inspect her coat, straightening it out before buttoning the front. Jean shook his head at the soft and sweet gesture in front of him. He looked back inside the office to where the drawings he had and quietly went back in and approached the desk. 

He carefully lifted the second scroll and opened it. He didn’t really know what kind of reaction he was expecting from Hange-san, but so far she didn’t really give away anything obvious. He was certain that she had read those letters. But it felt as if she just wanted to move on from them, and thinking about it, that would be the best course of action wasn’t it? 

He stared at the portrait. They weren’t really close by any standards. Thinking about it, they probably just had two or three conversations the entire time Jean had known him. But his utter devotion was enough to catch anyone’s attention. Jean hoped he was able to catch them and had translated it properly on paper. There were hundreds of sketches of Hange-san and everyone else, but there weren’t any of just them together. He had drawn him the way he knew him — face scrunched up in concern as he looked onto her. He had a hand placed on her shoulder, and Hange-san was laughing at whoever was in front of her. 

Slowly, with his other hand that wasn’t holding the portrait, Jean placed a fist over his heart in a salute. 

Thank you for dedicating your heart. 

 *******

Dear Buntaichou, 

I’ve decided to start writing to you like this in the event I should get a heart attack and die from your irresponsibility. I also needed to let out my frustration through a healthy matter. I really don’t understand as to why you would charge headfirst into a forest, all by yourself, and try to capture a titan. How you managed to get away with screaming at the commander and still having all your limbs attached today is a miracle. I’m glad Captain Levi and his squad were able to intervene and help stop you from getting eaten. I’m glad you’re okay. At this time, you’re currently locked in your room, devouring whatever is inside the notebook you found. Maybe you’ll finally be able to convince commander Erwin with your discoveries? Still, you could have died. No matter how much I try to stop you, you always try and go at it, huh?

That was so very stupid of you. How are you so brilliant and stupid at the same time? 

— Moblit

*******

Dear Buntaichou, 

DID YOU REALLY ALMOST FALL OFF THE WALL?! I’m so glad my grandmother forbade me to curse because I would have exclaimed a variety of colorful language at you during that entire situation. 

It was our first test run of your titan capturing method, and all would have been well if you weren’t leaning too far and, I don’t know, SLIPPED? 

It was a good thing captain Levi had incredible reflexes and had gotten to you just in time. He seems very attuned to whenever you put yourself in danger, isn’t he? I could have sworn he was just waiting for something bad to happen. I also could have sworn I was going to get a heart attack then and there. 

Why are you so reckless and stupid? Great, now I feel bad for calling you that. But hey, I need to let it out, okay? Don’t take it personally. But then again, captain Levi pretty much calls you that daily and you seem to find it endearing. 

I’m also so worried about when we start experimenting on titans. By the walls, you’re not going to make it easy for me, are you? Just please don’t die. 

—   Moblit

*******

Dear Buntaichou, 

I knew you weren’t going to make things easy for me. I have to admit, you giving names to those titans was pretty strange — but it was still rather cute. Only if you weren’t going crazy about it. 

I feel like I say that as if it’s a new thing. But then again, back in our training days, you were relatively calm. You always indulge yourself in books and go out of your way to try and learn new things. Those were nice and calm days, weren’t they? You’ve always piqued my interest from the very beginning especially since you were the only one who pronounced our instructor’s name wrong. 

Why am I bringing this up? Anyway, if this is the last letter you read it means that I was eaten by Albert or whoever that other titan was. We can’t afford to lose you, you know? That’s one of the things I’ve learned so far anyway. That some lives in the Survey Corps matter more than the others, and I would gladly get eaten by a titan if it means you’d live another day.

I don’t mean to make you feel guilty or anything of the sort. This is just how I feel. 

— Moblit

*******

Dear Buntaichou, 

How do you do it? It seems you’re the only person (besides commander Erwin, well, it’s a given) who has full control over captain Levi. You’ve managed to persuade him to capture a titan for you, and though he complained about it, he still did it anyway. 

Since you’ll never get these letters while I’m still alive, I can probably be as honest as possible. 

I think that he has feelings for you. 

Now, I hope by the time you read this, he’s made it obvious to you by then. And I know it seems like a stretch, cause well, he’s captain Levi and everything and he doesn’t seem like he’s capable of those types of emotions, but I’ve seen the way he looks at you. 

I think it started when you ran off to the forest and he followed you. I read the reports of what had happened, and it seemed he was really shaken. We also work a lot with their squad, so there’s a lot of room for things to blossom then I suppose. 

I know I sound incredibly foolish. And I’m telling you right now, I’m completely sober as I write this. But it’s just something I can tell, something that doesn’t seem too far-fetched. He cares about you a lot. 

Now I need a drink. I don’t know what’s going on with me. 

— Moblit

*******

Dear Buntaichou,

I think you have feelings for captain Levi. 

This is an even more outrageous claim than the one in my previous entry, and because I’m always glued to your side, I feel like I know more than others do. 

It’s been a while since I wrote my thoughts on here. It’s been a rough couple of days? Weeks? I forgot. So much has happened. I don’t want to delve too much into the details but essentially, we had engaged with the female titan outside the walls, then inside Stohess district, then the armored and colossal titan. I also finished investigating Ragako — Connie Springer’s village. I haven’t had enough rest these days. A lot of us haven’t. And though I feel incredibly exhausted and want to make use of these couple of days of peace before we head onto Trost, I felt like jotting some of the things I had witnessed between you and the captain.

I know this is really silly of me. But forgive me again, this is the only outlet I have. Don’t worry, I’ve already jotted down the important findings in the middle pages of this journal/sketchbook. But I’m starting to feel things myself. Feelings I didn’t know I could feel either. 

Anyway, you had visited him when he was still in the hospital, getting some treatment for his injured leg. You had dismissed me that day, saying you were going to him. 

I also had caught you lending him one of your jackets. And though he had protested, he still eagerly wore it. 

Not to mention the number of times I had caught you making tea for him. How did I know? Well, no one else touched the tin of black tea in the mess hall but Captain Levi. So it had been an easy assumption. 

There are a lot more instances, but I can’t seem to bring myself to put them on paper. I don’t know why — maybe there are just too many, maybe I just don’t want to recall them. I think maybe both. 

Either way, it seems as if you two have feelings for one another now. I’m glad. I’m also glad that you’re okay, that you’re alive, that you’re still here. Hopefully, that will continue to last long. 

—  Moblit

*******

Dear Hange-san, 

I think… that this will be my last letter. 

I know it’s been a long time since I last updated this series of letters (we haven’t exactly had a lot of free time) and as we are preparing to return to Shiganshina, I felt the need to address everything here and now. Seeing as there’s a high probability I might not make it back. 

The moment I first met you back when we were cadets in the Training Corps, you had captured my attention almost immediately. Your hair had been way shorter back then so there wasn’t any need to tie it up into a ponytail. Other than that, your eyes always remained bright, your laugh was always infectious. When you had told me back then how you wanted to see the world beyond the walls, I had thought you to be crazy. My family had always wanted me to enlist in the Garrison, especially since I had a lot of relatives there. But the moment you started talking about what life could be like, about different plants and trees, about different types of animals — the way you had smiled up at me and used your hands excessively to discuss your points  —  I knew then and there that I would follow you wherever you went. 

Going into the Survey Corps was absolutely terrifying. But being with you, helping you, and staying by your side had made it worth it. 

The amount of times you almost died, the amount of times you had put yourself in danger is just too much to count. The number of times you had made me worried  —  well, let’s just say I’m glad my heart didn’t suffer any complications. Or maybe it has and I just don’t know. 

Seriously, you’re too reckless sometimes, you know? But I can’t help but admire you still. You do it because you desire to change because you want to understand our natural enemies. You’re the only one I’ve met who thinks that way, and people have mentioned more than once that you’re really crazy, and perhaps they’re right, but you’re also the most brilliant of all of them combined. 

And because of this, you have captured my heart. 

I’m sure there are more reasons, but I can’t find it in me to talk about all of them. I don’t know why this happened, how this happened, or if I was too obvious. But knowing you, you probably wouldn’t know if someone had romantic feelings for you even if it hit you straight in the face. After all, this is exactly what’s going on between you and captain Levi. 

I know for certain now that he loves you. I had a hunch before, but I know now. I could tell by the nicknames he gave you, from how angry he was when you fell during our battle, how he went to visit you, multiple times, after that incident. How when he sees me alone in the corridor or something, he always asks about you. How in every mission we go, he always looks at you, as if he’s engraving your image into his memory should one of you not make it. How he captured a titan for you. How he knows how you take your tea and how he always goes to your side for comfort. How he basically forces you to take a bath. How he just knows you and understands your entirety as a human being. 

It all makes sense now. I suppose, if you didn’t pay attention much to it, you’d think it was something else entirely. Just a comrade looking out for another comrade. But his eyes, oh his eyes always say otherwise. He loves you and I hope by the time you read this, you’re well aware of that fact. 

And I also hope you’re well aware that you love him too. 

I could tell by how you tease him almost to no end. By how you always talk about him, either positively or negatively. How you just know when he's around as if you have a keen sense just for him. How you translate his words for others (he’s not very good at those). How even when he’s fuming angry or irritated, you seem to be the only one who can get him to calm down. How you had visited him multiples times after his injury. How you just knew all that information about him living with Kenny the Ripper as if you two had discussed the life he had led before. How you know exactly how he takes his tea. How you always make it a point to celebrate his birthday despite our lack of funds. How you just know him and trust him so well. 

You love him, Hange-san. You love him so much. Dare I say you love him as equally if not more as your titans and your research. What you two have is something so special I doubt anyone inside the walls has the same kind of bond. 

I wanted that with you. 

You both deserve happiness together. But I know that’s not possible. Especially with the world we live in. 

I just wanted you to know this before it’s too late. I want you to know that should I never come back by your side, that you always have him. That he treasures you. Perhaps… even more than I do.

Enclosed in this journal are all the findings in research we collected through the years. And so are these letters. And so are some… portraits I had done myself. I hope you like them. 

If you’re reading this, then that means you have survived and may or may not be the new commander. Hange-san, I hope you remember that you are life itself, that you are so brilliant and amazing, and that you continue to give others an inexpressible joy. You have enriched my life (despite almost killing me multiple times). I know you will do a fantastic job as commander. That’s because, well, you’re you. You’re Hange. I wish I could elaborate more but it is what it is. 

There’s so much more I want to say. So much more I want to tell you. But there isn’t any time nor can I bring myself to put any of it on paper. You also should be expecting me on the training grounds in a couple of minutes from now to continue Eren’s experiments. So I suppose, I’ll just leave you with this:

    … I love you. 

  Sincerely, Moblit Berner. 

#i should probably stop turning every single ask into a fic cause this is taking forever #if i haven’t replied yet it’s cause it takes me a while to write and sometimes idk what to say but yeah i didn’t ignore you lovelies 🥺😤 #hallelujah #i'm really proud of this one #though i feel like the stuff i write these days aren't as levihan centric as i'd like #well anyway #jean kirschtien #hange zoe #hanji zoe #hange #hanji #levi #levi ackerman #moblit berner #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #angst #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #my work #ask box

[jalapeno-princess]

According To Him

CEO Mark X Reader

Genre: THE FLUFFIEST OF FLUFF I HAVE EVER WRITTEN (with some mentions of sex) (God how do I write about things I have never and probably will never experience I am so sad)

Word Count: 6.5K

Summary: Being in such a high position at one of the biggest tech companies in the country on top of attending college full time can be a lot to handle. You’ve never thought highly of yourself and there were days that you felt like giving up because the workload was too hard. You also were extremely insecure over every single thing about yourself. However, there is one person who makes you feel like the most beautiful, hard working and deserving person in the entire world--the CEO of the company you work at and the man of your dreams, Mark Tuan. 

A/N: (GUESS WHOSE BACK, BACK AGAIN IN LESS THAN A WEEK) IT’S ME WITH ANOTHER STORY but this time it’s adorable, endearing, full of love and laughter and everything I wish was going on in my life but no, I’m seconds away from a mental breakdown every single day. This is based off of Ariana Grande’s new song “POV” and honestly as soon as i heard the song I knew I had to write an imagine based on it it’s sooooo good I wish someone made me feel that way dude why can’t I have a boyfriend like Mark in this story (Or just Mark in general) Please enjoy! (And cry with me)

It's like you got superpowers Turn my minutes into hours You got more than 20/20, babe Made of glass, the way you see through me You know me better than I do Can't seem to keep nothin' from you How you touch my soul from the outside Permeate my ego and my pride

I wanna love me (ooh) The way that you love me (ooh) Ooh, for all of my pretty and all of my ugly too I'd love to see me from your point of view I wanna trust me (trust me) The way that you trust me (trust me) Oh, 'cause nobody ever loved me like you do I'd love to see me from your point of view

“If we want to build stronger relationships with our hundreds of clients in order to get them to prolong their contracts with us, I suggest that we increase the amount of stocks that we invest in to each of their companies and find more sponsors to help get the attention of the public—maybe we could start putting ads on television or on the radio?” 

If there was anything you hated about your job, it was public speaking. For someone who graduated with her master’s degree in communications with double minors in criminal justice and journalism, one would think you were great when having to speak to a large group of people—but no. Your entire body along with your voice was shaking profusely and you felt as if you were about to throw up. If it wasn’t for the devastatingly handsome man whose been sneaking cheeky winks and a few grins in your direction here and there in order to calm your racing heart, then you would have blew the entire thing. 

“I think that’s a wonderful idea y/n. A lot of people listen to the radio nowadays and television can get the attention of those who don’t drive or use cars as transportation. What does everyone else think?” 

If Mark wasn’t there, you were sure your heart would have jumped out of your chest. He actually wasn’t supposed to be there; he had a couple of meetings he had scheduled months beforehand, but when he found out that the members of the board were having a meeting and you were expected to be involved in it while presenting your ideas on how the company you were currently working for could expand throughout the United States and maybe even outside of the country, he cancelled every single meeting with the intention of giving you moral support. 

No matter how much you tried to reject his offer, not wanting to get in the way of his other responsibilities—you’d be lying if you said you weren’t extremely happy that he was there. His presence was undoubtedly calming; no matter wherever the two of you were, whether it was a board meeting, a company dinner or more relaxing and romantic places like the beach or on vacation in Europe, Mark could always bring you serenity. 

You looked around hesitantly in attempts to prevent Mark from seeing the blush he caused rise upon your cheeks from gazing at you and because you were genuinely curious about what your colleagues had to say about your brainstorm. When you saw a hand raise—particularly by a specific someone you weren’t all too fond of in your workplace, you wanted to let out a disgusted groan, but you refused to stoop to her level nor did you want any of your coworkers thinking you were rude. 

“Don’t get me wrong, that is a decent idea—but I know there are other things we can do that would better benefit the company without having to waste money on unnecessary ad sales. With all due respect sir, I don’t think it’s fair for you to show favoritism towards y/n just because she’s your girlfriend.” 

If you weren’t surrounded by fifteen other people, you were sure you would have leaped across of the table and socked her in the face. There were at least 1,000 people employed at the company you were working at and although you haven’t met every single person, you genuinely liked all the employees you did get the chance to get introduced to. However, there was only one person in particular that you honestly could do without and she just so happened to feel the need to speak up against you because she loved making you look stupid—especially in front of Mark. 

From the day you met her, Megan never seemed to care about you even if you were nothing but nice and friendly to her. You didn’t care though—you were there to work, not to worry about someone who dislikes you. But you didn’t do anything wrong for her to treat you as if you were scum of the earth. Every time you would walk past her desk, she would glare at you and during meetings like these that unfortunately she had to attend, she would always plot against you. 

You overheard a conversation between two colleagues in the bathroom one day about how Megan felt as though Mark might have taken a liking to her and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Your boyfriend had no clue about the way she treated you so rudely; you didn’t like starting unnecessary drama, but you were sure he caught on to her hostility—she wasn’t very vague about it. 

As the days went on though, you only grew more and more irritated with her and it was getting harder for you to bite back your tongue and prevent yourself from saying how you truly felt about her. It didn’t matter that your boyfriend just so happened to be the CEO of the tech company you’ve been working at for almost three years now; if you were to physically attack someone or instigate a fist fight, there was nothing he could do if she were to press charges—well other than bail you out—but that wouldn’t look too good for him as one of the youngest and most successful CEOs in the country. 

Your boyfriend Mark just so happened to take over his father’s company right after the elder man decided to retire just a year after you began working there. You were an intern at the company for a couple of months before Mark’s dad offered you a permanent job; stating that you were one of the best interns he’s ever had—that you were extremely responsible, hard working, dedicated to your craft, passionate about your education and just an all around kind of person. 

The Tuan family’s company was a very fast paced working environment. Nine hours would pass by faster than you could even comprehend only because you were constantly doing something. You’d be lying if you said your life didn’t get stressful every now and then—managing both college and a full-time job wasn’t the easiest thing to do; especially since you were a double major. But you did your best to stay on top of school and work. You were introduced to Mark one day by his father when he told you that he wanted the two of you to work together in order to build a healthy work relationship seeing as how he wanted you to be his son’s go to person. 

Mr.Tuan trusted you the most out of every single person working at his company; so it was only natural for him to want you to show his son the same support that you’ve shown him. 

Mark was nothing short of a gentleman when you first met him—he never used his position or the fact that he was the heir to the company to get what he wanted or to intimidate anyone of the employees in anyway. In fact, sometimes you’d forget that his family owned the company and that he was supposed to take over his dad’s position seeing as how he blended in so well with everyone else. He allowed you to show him the ropes; even if his father was the CEO and this company has been in his family for over four generations, he himself has never really been involved in what went on at the company. 

His parents wanted him to enjoy his life and do whatever it was that he wanted to do before having him take on such an important and tiresome role. Mark was such an amazing listener and he seemed to be very eager to learn. He complimented you on how dedicated and how hard working you were and he was very grateful that his dad had someone working for him who cared for the success of their company as much as he did. 

There was a point where you spent almost every minute that you were at work with Mark and you honestly weren’t complaining. You loved his presence and enjoyed how happy he made you. Although he wasn’t a man of many words, his actions spoke for him. He’d open every single door for you, pulled out your chairs, carried the things you would need for meetings, held your bag as you paid for coffee—hell, he even started to take over every bill that you had whether it was for food, drinks or just your necessities. 

At first, you assumed that he was only being nice as a way to no verbally thank you for helping him out—but with the way he would look at you with a certain glint and sparkle in his eyes, and the way he would try and touch you every now and then, whether it was bringing back some of your hair behind your ear, pulling you on the inside as the two of you walked on the sidewalk or playfully poking your cheek if he noticed you falling asleep from how exhausted you were, people didn’t do that to just anybody. 

It was obvious he felt comfortable around you and you knew it was a stretch to feel this way, but you were secretly hoping that he saw you as more than just a colleague. You knew you were screwed from the moment he was assigned to work under you—Mark had to be the handsomest man you’ve ever seen in your entire life. He had the most well-defined features; the prettiest brown eyes, a sharp and pointy nose, prominent cheek bones and the softest, heart shaped lips. 

You’d find yourself staring at his lips during meetings or when the two of you would get lunch together and you always wondered what it would be like to feel them against yours. Only after a month, your partnership with Mark grew more flirtatious. He would always playfully tease you and make jokes in attempts to make you laugh when he could tell you were stressed; he also complemented you every single day about how beautiful he thought you were and how your laugh had to be the prettiest and most contagious sound in the world. You’d observe the way he would act around the other employees to see if the way he interacted with you was just him being friendly—but he hardly ever talked to anyone else unless he had to for business purposes.

It made you feel special in a sense that maybe—just maybe Mark had developed some kind of romantic feelings for you as you quickly did with him. One night, Mark took you out to dinner as a way to thank you for all you’ve done for him so far and the night went along perfectly. Conversation flowed so easily between the two of you and you found out that you had so much in common with the older boy. Your sense of humors were the exact same and you both were very generous when it came to helping out the less fortunate. 

You didn’t think much of him offering to drop you home, you just assumed he wanted to make sure you made it in to your apartment safely. Once the two of you pulled up to your complex, he insisted on walking you to your door. You didn’t really expect anything once you were to reach the front door—you planned on thanking him for such an amazing night and for taking you home. 

To your surprise, he tugged on your wrist and pulled you in to his chest before connecting your lips together in a sweet kiss. His lips were so soft and tasted like bubblegum—he lowered his hands to your waist while licking on your bottom lip, ultimately bringing it in between his teeth. The two of you made out for a couple of minutes until Mark abruptly pulled away. Right as you were about to whine at the loss of his lips against yours, he hid his face in the crook of your neck and giggled softly. 

“I like you y/n—a lot more than I’d like to admit actually. If I’m being honest, I think it might be more than that. I’ve liked you from the minute my dad had me shadow you and if I’m being honest, I kind of hinted towards wanting to be partnered up with you because I witnessed how amazing your work ethic is and I’ve admired how intelligent and talented you are. I think my dad talks more highly about you than he does me and I can see why—you’re wonderful y/n. These last few weeks with you has been some of the best moments of my entire life. You make me so happy. I would have never thought that I would actually enjoy going to work as much as I do and it’s specifically because I want to see you. Would you—um—maybe want to be my girlfriend? I totally understand if you don’t want to and please don’t feel as if you have to reciprocate my same feelings because I’m going to be your boss or because you feel bad—“ 

You didn’t allow him to say anything else before you roughly smashed your lips back up against his. Now that you knew how it felt like to kiss him—something you’ve been dreaming about for quite some time now, you would never get enough of having his lips meld perfectly in unison with yours. 

“I like you too Mark. You don’t understand how happy I am—I’m sure you’ve caught me stealing glances at you every now and then. I would doze off sometimes and dream about what it would be like to be the lucky girl who gets to love you and be loved by you. I would love to be your girlfriend. If you don’t have to go yet, did you maybe want to uh—come inside for some coffee?” 

He beamed at you and nodded in excitement—it didn’t take a genius to know that coffee was not at all going to be involved in the nights festivities and he couldn’t care less. He’d be lying if he said he hasn’t dreamt about being intimate with you and getting to see you naked and bare—writhing underneath him while begging him to do anything to soothe the fire building inside of you. It’s happened on many occasions and he isn’t embarrassed to say a lot of his wet dreams were caused by you. As soon as you both made your way inside, he pressed you up against the door and began leaving sloppy kisses on the expanse of your neck and chest while whispering sweet nothings against your jaw. 

That entire night was spent relishing in your newfound relationship in your bed, in the shower, on the counter and up against your fridge. From that night on, the two of you were inseparable—it wasn’t much of a change from your usual time spent together other than him being even more clingy and touchier now that the two of you were a couple. Plus, you got to see him on the weekends which was a bonus—even if you spent almost ten hours a day every single day with him, it was never enough. 

Both you and your boyfriend decided to keep your relationship a secret from everyone at the company to prevent people from talking negatively of you or assuming that you were only dating Mark for beneficial reasons which was far from the truth. You didn’t think it was possible for Mark to be an even more amazing boyfriend than he was a business partner, but he proved you wrong entirely. He was so shy and soft whenever it came to you. 

Although he practically hovered over your tiny frame, the older boy would follow you around like a lost puppy. He would show up to your apartment every morning and take you with him to work so you didn’t have to worry about transportation. He would also wait until you were finished with work if he just so happened to end earlier that you did in order to take you home. If Mark was anything, it was extremely observant. 

It took him less than a week to learn your coffee order, he’d purchase all kinds of things for you while he’d go grocery shopping, he would buy you bags and clothes that he thought would look amazing on you, he would write you cute little post it notes and stick it all around your desk and if you were to catch a cold or if you weren’t feeling all too well, he’d take off from work in order to help nurse you back to health—in more ways than one. You never thought you would ever be able to experience the love Mark was giving to you. 

You’ve only ever been in two actual relationships before him. Other than that, you were the type of person who enjoyed to fool around. Whenever you and your friends would go out to clubs and bars, you’d find yourself getting drunk and taking someone home whose name you’d never got around to learning. If you were being honest, you never thought you would ever be in a long term relationship before. 

Your parents divorced when you were only two years old and it seemed like most of the adults you were surrounded with just so happened to be divorced also. Love was a foreign word to you—you never believed love could exist. Everything you’ve seen in movies was fake; all these shows and books about men who would give their lives for their significant others, you thought it was complete and utter bullshit. You ended up breaking up with both your boyfriends because you were afraid of getting your heart broken. 

It wasn’t like either of them really made you feel loved or genuinely cared for in the first place, so breaking up with them didn’t hurt as much as you expected to. That all changed the minute you found yourself falling in love with Mark. Time and time again, you told yourself you would never allow yourself to make such a stupid mistake—nor did you want to give your heart, mind, spirit and just yourself entirely  away to someone who would only break your heart and leave you like it is the easiest thing do to. 

For years, you’ve put up this barrier around your heart and kept every single person out of it. However, you didn’t know how he did it—but Mark knock down your walls and made you want to fall in love with him. Even before you really got to know him and how he was as a person, you know you could trust him. You wanted to give yourself a chance at love; it’s what you deserved. You couldn’t keep running away from something so good—or someone who obviously loved you more than life itself just because you didn’t want them to hurt you. 

The way he took care of you—even if you weren’t necessarily aware of it; the way he looked at you with so much adoration and happiness, the way he would talk so highly about you to everyone he surrounded himself with made it all the more clear that you must have meant a lot to Mark and you weren’t going to let anything or anyone for that matter get in the way of experiencing what true love felt like. Not once in your relationship with Mark did you ever have to worry about getting hurt—you knew that man loved you with his entire being. He never failed to show you or tell you every single day and sometimes you had a hard time accepting that someone could love you so much in the way Mark evidently did. 

Mark Tuan had to be the best thing that has ever happened to you and you were never going to take him for granted. He was the man you knew you wanted so badly to spend the rest of your life with—there was nobody in this world that you loved or could ever love more than you did with him. He captivated your heart in ways you didn’t believe was possible. Honestly, there were times where you felt as though he deserved better. 

You didn’t think all that highly of yourself; sure you had a pretty high position at his company for someone who was only 21-years-old and you were obviously well educated, but you weren’t very sociable nor did you think you were as street smart as you were book smart. You also never considered yourself to be attractive; you’d stare at yourself in the mirror ever now and then and picked out a lot of your features that you didn’t like about yourself.  

There were days that you thought everything about you was ugly; your teeth were crooked, your eyebrows were bushy, you had chubby cheeks, you were on the more curvy side—you had thick thighs, decent sized breasts and your butt was on the bigger side, but you also had big hips and your stomach wasn’t as flat as you wish it would be. On many occasions, you found yourself growing jealous of a few of the employees at the company because a lot of them were so pretty and had petite, dainty bodies. 

No matter how many times your boyfriend would remind you on a daily basis that he thought your body was so beautiful and that he was completely obsessed with each and every curve, beauty mark and birth mark scattered along your skin, your insecurities never failed to get the best of you and you’d always tell yourself that he probably wanted someone with the body of a model. However, you would observe Mark just as much as he did with you; he never batted an eye at any other girl—even when he talked to one of your colleagues, he seemed so disinterested and it made your heart flutter. 

You wanted nothing more than to be content with the fact that your boyfriend only had eyes for you, but it was only natural for you to feel as though you weren’t good enough for him. There was an insult on the tip of your tongue; you wanted to ask her what she had in mind and hoped that it was worse than your idea so she would look like a complete dumbass, but luckily—Mark beat you to it. 

“Decent? I think you mean brilliant—and no Megan, I do not allow my personal affairs to conflict with my work ethic. I genuinely like y/n’s idea and I would support her even if we weren’t dating. Do you have any better ideas?” 

You didn’t have to confess anything out loud; Mark could read your body language like it was a picture book. He knew you better than he knew himself and even better than you knew yourself. With the way you tightened your fists and clenched your jaw, he knew you were seconds away from reaching across the table and pulling on Megan’s hair and if he was telling the truth—he was all for it. Your boyfriend knew all about your ill-relationship with the older girl—he wasn’t blind. Your mood was always quick to change from excited and bubbly to quiet and visibly annoyed whenever she came around. 

He wasn’t the kind of person to press you for information if you didn’t want to flat out tell him yourself. He did wish you would tell him though; he wanted to know everything that was bothering you or things that made you upset—if there was anything Mark loathed, it was seeing you sad. His sole purpose was to make sure you were constantly happy, healthy and living the best life possible. 

As a CEO, he couldn’t fire her for the reason that she was tormenting you; there was no evidence. But as your boyfriend, he could use his title against her and he always used that to his advantage—to protect you. You had to bite your lip to prevent yourself from laughing at the sight of her now defeated demeanor. 

“No sir.” Mark sent you a cheeky wink before clapping his hands together and getting up from his seat. 

“What does everyone else think about the radio station and television commercial ad idea?” Everyone around you nodded their heads in agreement and some even gave your boyfriend a thumbs up—you weren’t one to boast nor did you particularly find contentment in proving others wrong unless they deserved it and Megan definitely deserved the shade your boyfriend gave her. 

“Good, then it’s settled. If anyone has any better ideas—then feel free to bring it to the next meeting. But until then, we’ll go along with what y/n pitched and take it from there. I have some phone calls I have to make, so I’ll be taking my leave. Good job everyone.” Mark bowed to the entire table and quickly made his way towards the door but not before walking over to you and gently squeezing your shoulder. 

“No rush, but can you come to my office once you wrap things up here? I want to talk more about your idea.” 

You nodded in agreement even if you knew that you and your boyfriend would only briefly go over what was brought up in the meeting before doing something you both shouldn’t do in a work environment. The meeting only lasted for a couple of minutes after Mark had left—all the employees in attendance were extremely supportive of what you came up with and you couldn’t have been more thrilled and grateful with their responses. 

Right after you adjourned the meeting, you made a beeline for Mark’s office; not wanting anyone—specifically Megan to keep you from your boyfriend any longer. When you noticed her approaching, you quickened your pace and made sure she was no longer tailing you once you reached Mark’s door. You knocked gently and waited patiently for him to invite you in and as soon as he called out for you to enter, you made your way inside and gave him no time to process your movements before flopping on to his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. A soft giggle fell from his lips as he brought his hands down to your waist and held you tightly against his body. 

“You’re amazing and I love you. Thank you baby.” His laughter filled the room—going straight to your chest and making warmth rise upon your cheeks. For someone who was only three years away from turning thirty, he had the most adorable, high pitched laugh that you knew could light up any room he was in. 

“You’re the one whose amazing and I meant what I said—your idea is brilliant. Almost as brilliant as you my love. You never cease to amaze me. Did you see the look on Megan’s face when I indirectly called her out? That shit was priceless I wish I got it on camera. By the way—why didn’t you tell me about how she acts towards you earlier? I’m not stupid y/n, I know there must be some kind of animosity between the two of you and I know you’re not the cause of it. You know you can trust me with these things. What else does she do to you? Nobody treats my baby so unfairly and can expect me not to do anything about it.” 

You brought your hand up to his cheek and cupped it ever so gently before placing a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth. He smiled softly against your lips and stole a couple more kisses before leaning back in his chair in order to get a better look at you. 

“I didn’t want to bother you with something I can handle on my own. I’m a big girl Mark and I don’t let shit like that bother me. I don’t know why she acts like this, I didn’t do anything to her—and I don’t want everyone here to think that I’m not capable of fighting my own battles and that I have to have my boyfriend use his power to fight them for me. I’m sure a lot of employees gossip to each other about our relationship—“

“Who cares what anyone says? Our relationship is nobody’s business but our own. I just—I’m sorry, hearing her try to make you seem so small—so incapable of great things pissed me the fuck off. You’re the hardest worker we have in this entire company and I’m not just saying that because you’re the love of my life. I’m saying it because I’ve watched you work your ass off for the last four years taking on overtime, flying all around the world to meet with and make business with all these important companies, staying up all night to study for exams only to come in the next morning like you weren’t exhausted at all. You are an ethereal being baby. You’re otherworldly and I just can’t stop looking at you in astonishment. I hope you know Megan and every other girl who acts that way towards you is just jealous of you and I don’t blame them. I mean, just look at you.” 

The tears were hot as they built up at the brim of your eyelids. This happened almost every single day. Mark had a habit of going in to detail about the love he had for you and how wonderful he thought you were and you were never prepared to hear his complements and sweet words. 

“I don’t know what they would be jealous about Mark. Like you said, look at me—“

“I am looking at you. I can’t seem to stop looking at you. All I ever want to do for the rest of my life is look at you and admire you for the extraordinary human being that you are. You are the most beautiful girl in the world, I’m being completely honest y/n. You are so fucking gorgeous, I can’t even form your beauty in to words. You’re honestly God’s favorite and definitely mine. I hate that you think so negatively about yourself when I think the world of you. I know there’s no such thing as a perfect person but damnit y/n, you come very close. I really don’t know what I did to deserve you—and yes, I know what you’re thinking and you can just get rid of the thought that you’re not good enough for me out of your mind completely. Y/n, you are the best thing to ever happen to me—I mean that wholeheartedly. All my life, I felt as though something was missing but I could never put my finger on it. When I met you, everything changed and it just clicked. You were my missing puzzle piece—you’ve brought so much love and light in to my life and I’m forever thankful for being blessed with you to be my person.” 

You allowed the tears to fall from your eyelids and a small sob left your throat leading Mark to laugh against your jaw while bringing you closer to his chest. He began to run his fingers through your hair and left a few gentle kisses all around your face. 

“God Mark, I don’t know what I did to deserve you but I would do it again and again—I would lead and fight an entire world war if it meant getting to be the person you love in each and every single lifetime. I can’t even—I know I tell you that I love you every single day but I can’t help to feel as though it’s not enough. I wish there was more I could say or do to show you just how much I truly, deeply and irrevocably love you, how you mean the entire world to me and how I would be completely nothing without you. I wish I could see myself the way you see me—from your point of view. I want to trust and believe in myself the way you do. I wish I could love myself, the way you love me. I’m trying to learn to love myself because I know you worry about me and I don’t want you to anymore. I want to make you proud Mark—“

“You do make me proud y/n—every single day. I know you want to keep us a secret for reasons I have yet to understand—I’m sure now it has to do with people like Megan, but you shouldn’t care about what anyone thinks about you other than yourself and me. I think you’re the most astounding person I have ever met. It’s okay if you never learn to love yourself baby—I love you enough for the both of us and I will spend the rest of my life reminding you just how much of a wonderful, amazing, beautiful both on the inside and out and extremely sexy woman you are.” 

He stole a few sloppy kisses from the corner of your mouth and began grazing your cheek feather lightly.

“You don’t have to do anything more to prove your love for me, I feel it in my heart. You’re the reason it beats by the way. You keep my blood rushing and my veins pumping. I would give up anything and everything—this job, my family, my friends, hell I would even give up my PlayStation 5 for you and that says a lot baby. You’re all I could ever want and need  in my life. Now, if you want to show me some gratitude for loving you so much and for being your backbone today, maybe you could help me fix the problem in my pants that you caused as soon as I saw you leave the bathroom this morning wearing this outfit. Did I tell you how breathtakingly beautiful and devastatingly sexy you look right now? You know what was so hard for me—well, other than my painfully hardened erection, but it was seeing you in this skirt and blouse—watching you tell everyone of your plans with so much confidence and observing the way all the men in there were looking at you with desire in their eyes and not being able to walk up to you and kiss you with all my energy. I would have fucked you right there on the table if I could. But now that we’re both on lunch break—I’m all for eating you out right now. Lunch with a view sounds amazing and I’m not talking about the cityscape babe.” 

You playfully shoved him while attempting to get out of his embrace but he wasn’t having any of it and tightened his grip around your waist if it was even possible. “Mark, we can’t have sex right now, everyone is going to find out what we’re doing. You and I are not exactly the quietest people when we have sex—“ 

He gave you the most adorable pout before bringing his lips right under your ear and nibbling tenderly—trying to get a rise out of you. “Why not? We’ve made love in here many times y/n. I daydream about the multiple times I fucked in to you auto against this desk and against the window. The imprint of your breast on the glass is still in the back of my mind. Who cares if they hear? All the more better. I saw the way all the men would let their eyes linger on you a little too long. I think it’s time they are reminded that your bed is spoken for. It’ll also teach anyone in this building not to mess with you. Don’t try to talk me out of it, I know you’re a huge exhibitionist baby. There’s this one particular position that I wanted to try out if you’re okay with it. I’m going to need you to get on all fours and this blouse, as amazing as it looks on you, I want to see these pretty titties bounce for me. Get ready to sing my love—I’m going to make sure everyone on this floor knows whose the boss in more ways than one.”

I'm getting used to receiving Still getting good at not leaving I'ma love you even though I'm scared Learnin' to be grateful for myself You love my lips 'cause they say the Things we've always been afraid of I can feel it starting to subside Learnin' to believe in what is mine

I wanna love me (ooh) The way that you love me (ooh) Ooh, for all of my pretty and all of my ugly too I'd love to see me from your point of view I wanna trust me (trust me) The way that you trust me (trust me) Ooh, 'cause nobody ever loved me like you do I'd love to see me from your point of view

I couldn't believe it Or see it for myself Know I be impatient But now I'm out here fallin', fallin' Frozen, slowly thawing, got me right I won't keep you waitin', waitin' All my baggage fadin' safely (baggage fadin') And if my eyes deceive me Won't let them stray too far away

I wanna love me (ooh) The way that you love me (ooh) Ooh, for all of my pretty and all of my ugly too I'd love to see me from your point of view I wanna trust me, ooh (trust me) The way that you trust me, baby (trust me) 'Cause nobody ever loved me like you do I'd love to see me from your point of view, yeah

#got7 imagines #mark tuan #got7 #mark tuan imagines #mark tuan got7

[johannstutt413]

(requested by calligomiles; continuing from this)

As Grani went about her duties as Rhodes Island’s semi-official hall monitor (Doctor asked her to patrol, she did a bit more than that), she noticed Istina walking out of his office with a large stack of books and struggling a bit to carry them off. “Hey, Istina! Need some help?”

“Y-yes, please.” Anna sighed in relief as the Kuranta sheared off half the stack for herself. “Thank you, Grani. I underestimated how much I could carry at first but then overestimated how far I could carry it.”

“Huh. I usually have the opposite problem, honestly. Taking these back to your room?” Although as she asked the question, she wondered where else they’d be taking them.

The advisor nodded. “Yes.”

“Perfect!” She beamed with a fraction of her light in the Ursus’ direction. “I needed to figure out where the Classroom was, anyway.”

“You do?”

The officer nodded. “The General invited me.”

“She invited you?...I wasn’t consulted about this.” Istina sighed. “Then again, I suppose she would make that sort of decision for herself. ‘Lead from the front, hold nothing back,’ as the saying goes.”

“Is that an Ursan saying? I’ve never heard it before.” Grani’s eyes were drifting along the spines of the books in her hands now, noting most of them were high-level political discourse or detective novels.

The Ursus shook her head. “It’s a General saying - you could call it her life’s aspiration and not be grossly mistaken.”

“Really?” Her eyes glanced over the other stack, seeing more of the same. “Kinda weird when she’s holding back a lot, isn’t it? All of you girls do, in your own ways.”

“...” Anna smelled a spy.

The Kuranta noticed her clam up but continued the conversation herself regardless. “The General wears her heart on her sleeve, but she wears it shield-side first; there’s a lot goin’ on beneath that but stays hidden because she’s scared of losing control again. Rada-”

“Rada?” Istina interjected suddenly. “You know her that well?”

“I’d hope so after being her friend this long! She makes me pies, and I make her smile when she’s running on empty - which, honestly? It’s a lot more often than people think. I’ve never met someone so good at pretending like that, so I’m happy it’s genuine when we’re together. It makes me wonder about you, though.”

Alright, this conversation was getting far too interesting. The advisor steered them over to a bench before sitting down, books on her opposite side. “I’ll show you my room in a minute, but I need answers first. Why are you trying to join the Group?”

“Oh, I wasn’t really trying to,” Grani admitted. “I just wanted to help Rada, then the Doctor asked me to train with the General yesterday, and one thing led to another. Tonight’s my first meeting.”

“Well, clearly, otherwise you would have been to one before. Why did the General invite you?” She was trying to piece together the possible reasons, but nothing was really coming together.

That is, until the officer told her, “I told her what she didn’t want to admit.”

“That’s both infuriatingly vague,” Anna replied, “and completely like her. Something about always acting tough?”

“I told her she could count on the rest of you- us, now - to be strong, too. It’s like what I’ve been trying to tell Rada, and I think she’s starting to get it, because she’s got the same idea about being happy. If everyone’s honest about how they feel, then everyone can work through their feelings, you know? Same with other stuff, too. Hungry?” Grani reached into her pocket and pulled out a granola bar.

Istina took it, unwrapping just enough to nibble on while they talked. “Other stuff? Such as?”

“Well, I don’t know a lot of details, because Rada doesn’t like talking about it and I don’t want to force her too,” the Kuranta replied, “but I think what happened at Chernobog counts.”

“...That’s asking a lot.”

Grani nodded. “I know, but us officers do it after any missions when a death’s involved. Keeping that sort of thing bottled up is a risk in the field, battle- or otherwise, you know?”

“I suppose.” The advisor looked at her adviser analytically for a moment. “What would you do if you were a soldier, and you had to see death every day, every hour? What do you do when you don’t have time for that kind of confessional?”

“Well, when I went on long missions by myself, I’d write things down and talk about ‘em when I got back to the precinct. I still do that nowadays.” She patted her singular pants pocket, and the dull thud of a small hardback journal answered.

The Ursus’s eyes drifted to that pocket, momentarily distracted by the Kuranta’s...interesting pants design, before returning to her face and the dim but still present smile they found there. “Does it need to be talking to someone? I...There are some things I still can’t tell anyone about yet. Not even the Group.”

“If that’s the case, talk about what you can with us,” she replied, “and write down what you can’t so that, when you’re ready, it’s there to come back to. That sound good to you?”

“Yes.” There was the obvious security risk of someone finding what she’d written, but Istina had a lot of books and journals already-

The officer hopped to her feet. “Ready to keep walking?”

“Mmm...One thing.” As Grani stood there somewhat confused, Anna stood up and hugged her. “Welcome to the Group.”

“Aw, shucks. Thanks for having me.” These Ursus girls really liked hugs, apparently.

Not that the Kuranta was gonna complain about that.

#arknights #arknights fic #istina (arknights) #grani (arknights) #setup continues... #writing all these in a row #gotta remember to add the links as they get posted

[escxpiism]

( olivia holt, 23, she/her ) * hey, i’m looking for the office of ALICE ADAMS. they’re the EMPLOYEE who’s known around the office as THE MASK if that helps ? not to be a gossip, but i’ve heard that they’re ADAPTABLE but JADED, is that true ? i also heard that they’re the one who CATFISHED DAVID HASSELHOFF. anyways, here’s the coffee they ordered.

hi y’all !! i’m may ( 21 // est // she/her ) and i am super super pumped to be here !! i’m also very much writing this against my better judgment ya girl’s running on four hours of sleep and has the option to sleep more but......... is not tired ?? so i do apologize if my mind is secretly tired and makes this intro,,,, even worse than it would be fahouedn. on with the show !! anyway anyway!! feel free to like this if u wld like 2 plot and i will hit u up!!

( also, for some vibes if you so choose to read, here’s the link to her playlist ! )

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QUICK FACTS:

full name: alice audrey adams

date of birth: october 26th, 1997

*will not perfectly reflect the zodiac big three below because that’s.... math.

zodiac big three: scorpio sun, virgo moon, taurus rising

gender & pronouns: cis woman & she/her

sexual orientation: bisexual

education: ged, bachelor’s degree in film — pratt institute

enneagram: 4w3

mbti: enfp

temperament: sanguine-melancholic

label: the mask

various inspirations: “nutshell” - alice in chains, “santa monica” - everclear, “polly” - nirvana, “jennifer’s body” - hole, “creep” - stone temple pilots, kate wallis ( cruel summer - shhhh ), heather davis ( crazy ex-girlfriend ), satana hellstrom ( marvel comics ), bojack horseman - without the amount of problematic ego ( bojack horseman ), eddie huang ( fresh off the boat ), the great britney spears evolution ( temporarily stopping at circus era )

BACKSTORY:

triggers in order: toxic family dynamic, grooming (nothing super in-depth), kidnapping (? like it was ‘willing’ but no. see next trigger for why), toxic “relationship” (and 11yr age gap w/ a 16y/o we hate it), straight-up captivity, very brief mention of suicide + heroin (very!)

*would like to quickly preface that this isn’t just Dark for the sake of being r/im14andthisisdeep but that’s for a later time **(also! i have markers for where the grooming + Super Dark parts begin and end! -- also, the Super Dark part is all very public knowledge. had articles. media frenzy. first thing that comes up if you google her name) *** also. if u need it then a tl;dr is below this section hfkldsa

alice audrey adams was born to the type of family that names all of their children alliterative names ( however, they sadly didn’t get their own kardashian-style show )... alexis adams (working name, utp if taken as a wc)... alfie allison adams (working name, utp if taken as a wc)... born to anna adams and allen adams... we hate it here.

as u can see... all of the kids were basically named after allen... they all had ‘al’ names.... extremely confusing 

plot-twist: THAT’S the darkest part

the adams were very concerned with public image. as a family in the upper echelon, they simply had to be! a narcissist father, a distant mother, put in competition with her siblings — there was no truly healthy dynamic in the household. but they looked good. they went to church every sunday, a ‘wwjd’ sticker on the back of her mother’s car. they did just enough activities and took just enough trips together to get the image across. they threw parties. they attended parties. they were the picture perfect american family — they even had two cats in the yard! life used to be so hard! 

of course, in reality, this all left ms alice quite the lonely gal. but don’t worry! she didn’t turn to hedonism! lord no! instead, she turned to other people. a lot of friendships — couldn’t tell if they were real or #fortheclout — but at a point, did it matter? 

grooming tw: it all came to a screeching halt when she met luke johnson, the son of their neighbors. he came back from california to georgia to visit family, care for his ailing father. oh, he was a good man! sure, he was ‘somewhat’ older than her — 27 when she was 16 — but he was such a good, handsome young man! and they were all still calling him young man, after all. 

alice ‘began’ a torrid affair with luke after about a month into his visit. although she saw no immediate wrong in it, he insisted she keep it a secret ‘for the time being’ — which really just made it all the more exciting! he made all the storm clouds that hovered disappear.

one day, the levee broke for alice (still figuring out what exactly happened because i don’t wanna go too dark since this is already extremely dark, but trust that it had something to do with her parents and was just enough to push her over the edge). convinced luke was the only safe person, she turned to him. knowing their small community would catch on and essentially exile him, he took that opportunity to convince her to go back to santa monica with him where they could ‘start anew’ after his father’s death.

there are a few details i plan on adding regarding like. how legality playing into it. but i may just reserve those for an official bio lhakfsdfj

**BEGINNING OF SUPER DARK** for a while, there was the question of whether they should consider it a kidnapping or not. she went with him willingly, but she was still underage (and… you know, that age difference… the power dynamic... gross y’all). the adams insisted that it was (bc it basically was lbr) — primarily because it would make them look far better — but the community still questioned the logistics and legalities of it all… ugh. did the police really wanna deal with that? ugh. 

in any case, on the other side of us america, autumn was nearing. alice would have the very occasional inquiry over how school would work (very occasional! don’t worry, luke!), over the logistics of her new life… and, after receiving multiple calls from various friends (in addition to her siblings) that sounded genuine, began wondering… if she’d made the right choice. questions about him.

when she began bringing up the idea of going back — at least for the school year!! — he would continuously remind her that she was not old enough to buy herself a plane ticket (and he was not about to do that). she also couldn’t rent a car yet (and he certainly wouldn’t let her take (one of) his car(s)!). but most importantly? he loved her. and she loved him. (what a creep!)

so, for a hot second, it seemed like she was stuck. damn legalities!! damn love!! you know, until she texted her older sister back with all of the problems that only being 16... and “in love”.... caused. her sister offered to fly down, buy her a plane ticket, and fly back with her. 

when luke saw this (with all the unrestricted access to her phone he had so he could block, delete, and manipulate as he pleased), he confronted her. things went awry. she wound up in his budding wine cellar (which he soon emptied, of course… those merlots :( ….). he messaged back and, as her, said it was actually all good!! luke had figured out the logistics and she could call whenever she wanted!!

and those calls became frequent! because she would pick up when luke held it up to her! because she was pretty sure luke would kill her if she didn’t!

she wasn’t sure how long it was until she was officially Found. it took what was ruled a suicide by luke, a shot to the head and heroin in his system, to finally get any authority’s attention. all she knew was that she went to santa monica in mid june and she stopped seeing regular daylight by late july. so some time in august to some time in april… **END OF SUPER DARK + GROOMING**

she was returned to georgia shortly after and everything was different. from herself to her friends. but everything was also the same. from her room to her family. it was all… teasing. she began going to therapy, but she really sucked at it?? so she just let her therapist rely on various articles that covered the event. because it had been a media circus. good enough, amirite?? 

she didn’t have the will or patience to put on that peppy facade she’d had before, but there were still a few things she found a smidge of joy in. music (although her taste had… slightly altered and wow! it’d been almost a year since she’d picked up that bass!), videography… just those small things, you know?? 

for the first half of the ~ 2014 fall semester ~, she attempted actual school. really was not working out. with, for probably the first and only time, her parents’ approval and understanding, she dropped out and studied for a ged -- shorter and self-led -- instead. 

she passed with a pretty decent grade... but it’s been argued that she really shouldn’t have gotten into pratt institute (she was at least realistic and didn’t apply to, like… cornell), but she did. national news helps. 

while in the concrete jungle where dreams are made of, she learned of masters. she submitted an application as a joke — because her grades sucked!!!!! — but guess who got a job?? oh, she could pretend it was because her selected portfolio was actually genuinely good… but, man… we all know…

fun fact: my uncle applied to harvard as a joke. some twenty-five years later, we still haven’t heard back :\

she… continues to suck. like… she kinda wants the place to eventually burn down?? figuratively speaking (or is it…) but ya, for all the monopolizing she has seen turn people Evil?? but the hell can she do about it… just gotta make sure she keeps her in-house videographer job… maybe she can do something about it when she like… is capable. fuaihoelwdjkn

she sees an in-house therapist and i’d say ‘good for her,’ but it was mandated l m a o 

doesn’t talk about herself all that much!! but that might not matter for some people, yk?? ugh journalism <3 

y’all im so bad at ending intros.

TL;DR:

(consult above trigger list): bright kid in a super rich and toxic family because obviously. everything they did was just to look good <3 also they all had ‘a’ names which is the biggest tragedy of all :( ‘fell in love’ when she was 16ys/o with a 27y/o who was visiting to care for his father in his final days. had a torrid affair. creep. creep (luke) basically made her ‘fall in love.’ she thought creep was the only safe person at one point and creep was like ‘wanna go back 2 santa monica w me?’ and she was like ‘yes.’ and everyone was like ‘was this kidnapping... we cant tell....’ then he became even more possessive when she started questioning him and some logistics. when she finally found a way she could go back to georgia for a spell, he was like ‘no u can go in my wine cellar btw i will be taking all of the wine out.’ he kept her there from august to april and... only reason he didnt keep keeping her was bc he was Caught so. back to georgia where the devil went down. everything was Worse. even the things that were the same. but hey, the sob story that landed her in the news plenty of times got her into a college she shouldn’t have gotten into and gave her a leg-up in a joke application for a job at masters (in-house videographer). really bad at doing her work but like... fuck the man i guess?? 

PERSONALITY + HEADCANONS:

has no time for Fake Nice (which, as a born southerner, she’s really good at sniffing out!). has no time for arrogance. kind of makes her at odds with the nyc upper class...

on that note, still got a lil bit of some georgia twang

she lets herself indulge in various vices, but has left a previous hedonist status. weed and alcohol are still pretty common, but everything else is kept at arm’s length.

also, while on that topic, she Does Not drink wine. being trapped in a cellar... kinda makes u averse. like. literally despises it. will go on autopilot and make it KNOWN if offered wine.

also ALSO while on that topic, after looking it up and seeing she fits the new york city requirements, she has a medical marijuana card <3 the one good thing, if u ask her, to come out of therapy/psychiatry <3 will not show it off unless absolutely NECESSARY bc then it gets personal or <3 will lie about why and say it’s like for epilepsy or sumn unless ur rolfe but <3 she has it <3

at odds with herself. enjoys the company of others, definitely has a history of being an extrovert, but has become very selective with the company she keeps. 

VERY private person! has had enough public standing! 

...has occasionally used her story to advance her tho bc it’s her national newsworthy tragic story and she can exploit it if she wants <3

when good charlotte said “i don’t wanna be in love”?? she felt that. her last ‘relationship’ ruined that for her <3 save her <3 

used to be really into pop! bc pop is fun! she loved some britney (i mean... she still does... how can u not!)! but. her taste has changed drastically. rarely listens to pop. has traded britney for like.... hole and the like.

her parents didn’t use this as the basis for her name but,, 2 me,,, she’s named alice for a reason <3 gotta luv alice in chains <3

y’all i found a youtube comment on a video called ‘nirvana - half the man i used to be’ (the song was, in fact, ‘creep’ by stone temple pilots) and it’s <3 her music taste <3 click here for it <3

the above said, dresses like she’s in seattle in the early 90s. 

her rumor is true btw she DID catfish david hasselhoff and she will proudly tell u. it’s her best accomplishment.

completely stopped talking to her parents and got cut-off a while back ago so now she’s livin like the Prols

which is how a rich kid one of my profs once advised referred to his classmates.... hilarity ensues.

the above in mind, her parents say she’s testing the waters as a ‘normal person’ to save face. they can’t have anyone knowing their family isn’t perfect <3

she has a pet turtle whom she named “dr. turtle,” although he’s constantly referred to as “doc” or “the doc.” he has his own youtube channel and tiktok account.

she has a wall full of evidence that courtney love did not kill kurt cobain... it makes sense, believe me.

became a vegetarian...... partially because it was different from her original life and a way to control something, partially because this commercial made her feel SO BAD.

literally her default mode is stoned like... a totally sober alice is rarer than a nessie sighting

when she was 18, before she could ‘hold her liquor’ as well as she can now, she got a lil too drunk and now has a portrait tattoo of courtney love on her forearm. but it was done well at least!!

kind of ironic considering her career, but RARELY posts on any social media site except twitter. after the media circus in 2014 and All Eyes On Her, she’s just..... so tired...... of ppl seeing her face and being like ‘omg ur that wine cellar bitch!’

(drugs tw) has become more and more Addicted to playing around with fate. j chill on a ledge, talkin to some pals, but deciding it’s a good idea to swing her legs on the wrong side of ledge? totally! mixing a lot of alcohol with opioids which she is not accustomed to? DEF!! (end tw)

more to come!!

CONNECTION IDEAS:

i have two (2) queued up!! but while we wait for them to post, i’ll just… link them over here: 1, 2

muse u <3 the other half of her subplot from the main <3

her older sister!

her younger sibling!

some of the basics!! you know: close pal, roommate, drug buddies (but she gotta hit them up), fwb, ons, frenemies, enemy

ppl who recognize her from the 2014 luke johnson articles and have either brought it up or,,,,,,, act Awkward™

cld be fun 2 just have like. a jam bud. someone who plays any instrument and they j. jam sometimes.

ppl she sells. some of her medical marijuana to. bc yk what weed may be legal in nyc now but,,,, she’s still found a way to be broke she will accept anything. and also it just became legalized THIS YEAR so!!

i have a budding wc page @ https://escxpiism.tumblr.com/wcs (and when i say budding, i MEAN budding) so feel free 2 check it out!!

more to come!!

#masters.intro #alice | intro ! #this took me like....... 2hrs 2 write so i do indeed think my mind is fooling me and actually lagging behind.