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sunbloomdew · 10 months

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Love Confessions in the Baxter DLC

Because i am very unwell, thank you. Part 1/3

After over 70 hours of playing the Baxter DLC – and despairing over that one monochrome guy, you know who – I wanted to take a moment to talk about all the possible love confessions in Baxter's version of Step 4. I find them all lovely and each of them made me squeal and smile like crazy, and i just gotta express my appreciation for them somewhere.

In Step 4 there are three love confessions. Two of them can be initiated by the MC, and the third one will be proclaimed by Baxter, if the MC doesn’t confess first. I tried all of them a couple of times, and they are all very cute (although my personal favourite is the confession the morning after the wedding)!

Before we begin i want to warn y’all that i wasn’t sure about the approach i wanted to take when talking about these moments, and as a result this post might not be a "put together careful game analysis" thingy. It's mostly just my ramblings and feelings that hopefully are a-okay to read haha. Without further delay, let’s begin!

Spoilers for specific moments in Baxter's version of Step 4!

All of the confessions take place after the wedding ceremony, so if you hadn't gotten there and don't wanna spoil those great moments for yourself i don't recommend reading further. I will go quite in depth about each option.

In chronological order, the first feelings declaration is the confession immediately after the wedding has ended.

Or as i've been referring to it in my head, The Wedding Confession!

Everybody is busy cleaning up, and MC hasn’t had a chance to have a one-on-one moment with Baxter since they split off in the morning. Naturally, they want to talk with him after the event is over. There is this underlying fear, that Baxter will leave again and they can't let that happen.

The two talk and Baxter apologises for his actions towards MC, five years ago in Sunset Bird and now, after they met again. I need to add that this apology is very well written and it definitively pulled on my heartstrings. Here the player can choose to confess on their own, accept his friendship hoping for a different type of relationship later on or just become friends.

Since i’m yet to play Baxter’s version of Step 4 with platonic feelings, i don’t know if this option appears if you have him at Fond. If anyone of you has done it, i would love to hear what it looks like! For example, does the player get to confess either way, in case they changed their mind (just how here you can choose to be friends)?

Moving further, if we choose to confess right away we get to pick how we want to do that - with words or by kissing him. Each choice will be preceded with an internal monologue from MC about their and Baxter’s relationship and what he means to them. I really like the way it's written. They go through all of the stages they've been around each other. If you met him at the Cypress in Step 2 Soiree Moment they mention how he was a boy in their memories, becoming real when they meet again by chance during summer of 2016. How he made this summer into everything and more and how he left. The years apart and finally the summer they reunited. I can't explain my feelings well, but i find this monologue very sweet but also full of longing - it makes me smile and it makes my heart ache at the same time.

Depending on when the MC confesses, Baxter has a different reaction to their silence. Since now he is waiting for them to accept him into their life again, he gets nervous the longer MC is lost in their thoughts, which is reflected in the expressions of his character model. It’s described as cracks of anxiety appearing on his face and him slipping back into his professional pleasantness. He chose to be vulnerable, and how MC replies will affect him.

After the character’s musings end the player gets one last chance to reaffirm the decision to confess.

Personally, I really like that we have the option to do so. Not only is it useful in case the player suddenly changed their mind, but also helps create the response you want from your MC.

If you back out then you no longer can confess in that moment. The story progresses the same as in the case of choosing not to confess. You can confess later in the game, or not confess at all and have Baxter do that.

If you pick the option to check if he means it, Baxter will reassure MC about wanting to stay by their side. It’s really adorable - especially since in response to MC he says “I do” (ya know, the famous wedding catchphrase) which he immediately follows up with: “You’ll have to excuse me for using that answer at someone else’s wedding, but I am entirely serious.” What a dork. After picking this option only two of the three are left - you can go further or back out.

And finally, you can confess. MC makes note of how now that the wedding was over, there would be no complications for the newlyweds (although they thought Miranda proposing to Terry at their wedding would be a great idea, so they really wouldn't mind lol). They think that since Baxter asked them out first, five years ago, it’s only fair that they do it now. It's one line, but for some reason i like this sentiment a lot. Like hell yeah, go MC! Ask him out now, make him speechless!

When it comes to spoken confessions, there is an abundance of choices to pick from. But my absolute favourite option is to echo Baxter’s own words from Step 3 Sightseeing Moment back at him: "Could I consider all the time we've spent together a date?". Chef’s kiss, it’s all coming together like a beautiful piece of tapestry. Simply iconic of them.

Confessing with a gesture has less options to choose from, but all are equally cute! If you choose to confess in this way, MC will have a short revelation about how different kissing Baxter now feels to kissing him five years ago. Baxter reacts a bit differently to this type of confession, since MC enters his personal space. My favourite is confessing by kissing Baxter on the forehead. It's absolutely precious.

The way Baxter reacts to MC confessing to him is… very interesting to say the least. He was ready to be friends them again or accept their rejection (there is no option like that in the game, but realistically, you just know he would prep himself up for this possibility) but he was not ready for a love confession. Baxter gives MC a moment to move past this and pretend that nothing happened, but it’s not going to work. I find that a curious thing to do. Baxter isn't hoping that MC doesn't have feelings for him and he himself does for them, but there is still that feeling of insecurity in him, that prevents him from accepting the confession right away.

We have the option to have MC sweep Baxter into a dance, or keep talking without that. I love the former choice and i always pick it for my character haha. It’s especially cute how Baxter stumbles and is so out of his depth. Both because of the unexpected movement and the sudden confession.

You can pick an option to tell him, that MC wanted to be with him even five years ago. His reaction to it is just. He is stunned and he doesn't believe it. But he knows MC isn't lying as well. I can feel the conflicted emotions he must have been experiencing upon hearing that just in one line of dialogue. And i think that's pretty powerful writing.

But then he fires back. He is full of disbelief and he doesn’t understand what could he have possibly done to deserve MC's affections. He doesn’t want to call MC a liar but he can’t accept that outcome either. Baxter’s old ways of dealing with relationships are resurfacing, because he can’t believe that he has the right to form such a deep connection with someone. It’s pretty heartbreaking to witness.

It's... so sad. "What did i do to make you like me?" he asks, because there must be something, because simply being himself is not enough, when Baxter inherently believes that he doesn't contribute anything. And if he doesn't contribute anything to somebody's life, he has no place in it.

MC decides to change tactics. Instead of trying to make Baxter accept their feelings, they ask what they mean to him. Whether they end up together is secondary - their goal is to help him overcome his mindset. I find that a really powerful act of love - helping the person you care about understand that they deserve to be loved without extravagant outings and carefully constructed barriers.

I really love Baxter’s response in this confession because it is very true to his character arc. His hesitance, how he withdraws and tries to appear unaffected. He reciprocates MC’s feelings, but he is too ashamed of himself and afraid. His view on himself makes him think that he can't be in a relationship with someone or friends with them, and that is something i find deeply sad. Still, he answers MC’s questions, with a few prefaces. He cites his inability to do things in the morning, less financial income and his past relationship management as reasons for why MC wouldn’t want to be with him. It’s him giving MC the chance to resign, to take back the love confession while they can. It reminds me of declining a meeting with your friends, because you believe that they will have more fun without you. It's self-preservation of your own feelings and diminishment of your impact on others, which comes from some form of dissatisfaction with the way we are.

But MC doesn't take their feelings back. They assure him that they want to be with him.

And once that is done, they ask him:

(I usually can comment on writing/art, but when i can't that's how you know it's the shit. i sat with my mouth open and my hands flapping around just cause this confession got me that excited <3)

This is the dialogue you get when you have Baxter on Crush. If you pick Love, instead of "I want to be with you" he will say "I'm in love with you".

Just like that, he accepts. I was totally shocked when that happened, but well, it does make sense. It was never a question, and Baxter admits so himself. He never stopped wanting to be with MC. He further expresses that he wasn't happy pushing them away five years ago and when they met again. It's quite sad to hear him admit that he didn't think staying together (in more than a romantic way) was an option until moments ago. But he got there ultimately and that's worth celebrating. Growth isn't linear, and sometimes we fall back to our old habits.

I really adore how openly Baxter expresses his affection for the MC, in the confession and later. Compared to Step 3 it feels more mature (no shit, sherlock) but also self-assured. Because he is finally starting to believe, that this - a relationship with a person who really knows him and chooses to stay - is something he can have.

These two lines of dialogue? Murdered me in my sleep with love and care. Sir, how dare you do that to me.

After that the two sillies finish their dance. Their story has a happy ending, they have been reunited. I adore how warm and happy this situation feels, and the descriptions make it feel so light and cheerful, like the moment with MC failing to catch their breath because they are laughing gleefully or Baxter holding them in a gentle embrace.

I really like this confession. Like i said before, it’s very true to Baxter’s character, and it also shows, that despite having good intentions and doing everything you can to change, people can still slip back into their old habits. But there will be people around you that believe you can learn and do better, and will stay with you and help you through it.

I also adore the overall silliness (after the angst is over, but i do love my fair share of angst as well) and the emotional beats. The characters banter, joke around.

And express how much they care about each other.

Also the fact that Miranda, Terry and Cove just gawked at the pair while they were having this huge emotional event is just hilarious. They are very nosy friends and i love them for that lol. Of course, Baxter is completely unaffected. GB Patch knew that if they made this man blush more than he already does in the game, they would actually kill us.

I'm not kidding, i die every time he blushes and get revived when he snorts. That's just the circle of life.

So yeah, that was one out of the three confessions! It's amazing and i hope i was able to convey what i love about it! Prior to playing the Baxter DLC i had around 50 hours on Steam, and after i got it It turned into 120 hours so... Yeah, Baxter Ward.

I'm splitting my confession ramblings into three posts for convenience. Parts 2 and 3 will be finished soon... Hopefully. Once they are i will place links to all the parts in each post (if i learn how to,,,,). Also wow, this post took me way too long to write, holy shit.

Peace out <3

Part 2!

#baxter ward #baxter dlc #our life beginnings & always #our life beginnings and always #olba baxter #olba #gamer hours #sunbloom talks #our life #gb patch games #haru's surname is going through a crisis #in that playthrough i used “nakamura” but i often use “kealoha” as well #i'm working on step 1 haru drawings so you'll see in sometime!!

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mooniebunny · 11 months

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Here I tried to translate to English all Cellbit's plan he showed on stream for people who don't understand Portuguese. I apologize if there's any misspelling i tried my best and English is not my first language :)

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The trial was on Wednesday, 05/24. Cucurucho has no interest on the creative blocks and revealed that without even thinking twice during Bobby's negotiating.

They (Cucurucho) will not accept trade the blocks for the armor and any information we try to get in exchange for the block won't be a serious one and it will be useless for us.

But if we have a new surprise that even our side isn't waiting for maybe things will change. Cucurucho was the wrong one in the middle of the chaos. Maybe that's the secret.

The plan is to try use Forever rule break as a currency trading to make a direct conflict between FOREVER and ME, surprising Forever and Cucurucho in the negotiation and asking for Richarlyson custody as a way of "cheating" showing that I am willing to join the Federation and I don't have problems at antagonize my friends to protect Richarlyson and have him only for me.

Later, the idea of isolating myself from everybody for a day, create a castle of the evil darkness far from everyone only to see Cucurucho/Federation reaction, the codes and any possible impostor between us.

If anyone decided to ally with me it can be a suspect or someone who can't be trusted in the Order.

Update - Trial Day

Things got a little bit different than I have planned but the main plan worked. Instead of surprising with a betrayal during the trial, I used as an excuse the fact that they lied to me and tried to blackmailed me with the "Vivo" meme just to make a scene.

I took the opportunity to change my skin of defense lawyer to a district attorney to add more drama

It's a positive point because make it seem like i genuinely have a motivation/grudge with my friends and makes the Federation/Cucurucho less suspicious with my intentions, it doesn't look like i betrayed them "out of nowhere".

Considering that maybe the Federation watches the streams canonically to get the informations, i think that it was the best choice to do a narrative arc to have a big twist later.

As a prove that the plan wasn't a lie, I left a signed book for Richarlyson revealing my plan and i didn't risk to show it on stream.

Still very risky, considering that the Federation may have access to the items from the eggs but honestly it broke my heart see him (Richarlyson) sad and disappointed. I hope I don't regret this.

I also blocked people's access to Sofia to see how Max would react. I don't wanna suspect I suspect him but everything regarding her is very weird.

I will avoid mentioning her existence for the Federation and if they talk about this subject I'll try to avoid.

Important - The Codes

THE CODES attacked me a little after I "join" the Federation.

"01000011" - C

A code made exclusively to kill me? Practically ignore Richarlyson.

It strengthens the theory that the codes kill the ones who want people to stay in the island.

WHY DID THEY ATTACKED MAX?

Final Plan

Luckily the federal will also wake me up in the hospital Max woke up. I'll try to persuade the best i can to get new informations.

Keep the conflict with the members of the Ordem and try to please to other members of the island with explanations on how I noticed life and the people on the island are better than the ones i had before and i don't wanna lose it. (They won't need to get involved into this.)

Use the event of the Richarlyson trial where maybe everybody will be there watching to reveal all the informations that I gathered from the Federation in from of all.

There, if they kill/arrest me I'll become I will become a martyr and all present will see the truth about the Federation.

#qsmp #cellbit #q!cellbit

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doevademe · 1 year

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Here is a “fun” idea, say during the events of House of Hades, everyone gets stuck in Tartarus, meaning everyone see Percy bend poison and almost kill a goddess. Everyone is freaked out by this, and keeps their distance from Percy, which makes him feel miserable. The only one who keeps by him, at least until everyone kinda gets over it and apologizes to Percy for treating him badly, is Nico, who is used to people being freaked with his scary powers. This really can happen whenever, it just would be interesting to see the Seven see this side to Percy and become scare of him while Nico is just like “he’s not scary he baby”

Percy sat away from the rest, hugging his knees as the rest discussed what to do now that they were out of Tartarus. Everybody kept glancing at him, as if worried he'd suggest joining Gaia or something.

After all they had been through they only saw him as a monster.

Well, with one exception.

"I'm going to leave soon," Nico informed him. Percy looked at him, worried. "If we want to stop the Roman attack, the Athena Parthenos needs to be brought back, but you guys are needed to stop Gaia."

Percy didn't want that. Nico was the only one who approached him without fear. The only one to actuslly tslk to him after... after the incident.

"You're going to Shadow Travel all the way to Camp?" Percy asked.

Nico shook his head.

"Doing that with the statue would kill me," Nico explained. "I'll make shorter jumps, and rest between them."

"I'll go with you," Percy offered. He didn't want to be alone with the rest of the crew. All judging him and too scared to even see where he was coming from. "You need someone to have your back while you rest!"

"You are one of the Seven, Percy," he said. "You have a role in this. Reyna and Coach Hedge are the ones who will go with me."

"I didn't vote on that!" He argued. Nico gave him a sardonic smile.

"You'd be outvoted," he said simply. "Come on, I plan on eating as much as I can before my first jump."

"So you can go farther?"

"So I don't pass out."

Percy chuckled, only to curl on himself again.

"You go," he said. "I don't want to ruin everyone's meal."

Nico stood up and held his hand. Percy observed it for a while.

"Take it," he ordered. Percy did as he was told. "This has gone long enough."

Before he could protest, Nico was dragging him to the picnic table where Piper had set a feast using the Cornucopia.

Everyone stopped eating as they approached. Nico didn't acknowledge them, just sat by Hazel's side with Percy on his right.

Reyna and Hedge looked around, confused, but the rest where looking between them, wondering what to say.

"You know," Nico started, his voice loud as he picked a piece of shephard's pie and put it on his plate. "I get it if you're wary of me."

"What?" Hazel asked. "Nico, it's not you—"

"I mean, child of death, creppy zombie powers, the ultimate outcast, I totally get it," Nico continued, ignoring his sister. He pointed at Percy, who gulped. "But him? He's one of you."

"You saw what he did down there, dude," Leo said quietly. "We all saw it."

Even Annabeth put her head down, and that hurt Percy the most. Nico frowned.

"Well, I'm sorry, next time he'll make sure to just burn down a warehouse with his mother inside." Nico's voice was full of venom. Leo looked as if he had been smacked.

Jason and Piper stood up, glaring at Nico.

"That's too far, di Angelo," Piper said dangerously. Jason glared at him.

"Oh, so now the girl who brainwashes others with her voice and the guy who can zap people out of existence claim the moral high ground," Nico said sarcastically, standing up to almost reach their height. "The dead talk, you know? I know what each of you has done."

"Nico, please..." Percy tried. Nico gave him an apologetic smile before turning to the others.

"See? I'm creepy, I'm unnerving, but you?" He pointed at them. "Each of you can be just as scary as Percy. Among this merry group we have deadly curses, accidental matricide, and a walking consent nightmare, and I know for a fact that most of you have killed more than just monsters."

Percy looked at Nico, feeling nothing short of admiration for his friend.

"Percy's only dangerous to his enemies," Hazel said quietly. "That's what you said, right?"

"We just didn't realize what the extent of 'dangerous' was," Frank added quietly, probably scared of Nico bringing up something he had done too.

"Well, congratulations on finding out," Nico said. He sat down and bit into the pie. "Most of you are older than me, so act your age, accept that Percy saved us, and get over yourselves."

Nico may or may not have muttered 'bunch of hypocrites' as he munched on his food. Percy would never tell.

"You are not unnerving, Nico," Percy said. Nico raised an eyebrow. "I mean, you can be, when you want to, but you're also very kind, and giving. You protect your friends and family with everything you have."

Nico blushed a bit. The others watched the exchange silently.

"This isn't about me, Percy," Nico said. "You guys need to work together, or else Gaia will rise and then it's game over." He gestured at the rest of the table.

Percy looked around and realized the others were deep in thought. Nico was right. None of them, except maybe Frank, could truly claim to be innocent.

Nico had made himself a target of the Seven's contempt for him. It felt like his chest was going to explode from feeling both sad for his friend and touched by his actions.

They continued eating quietly until Reyna approached them, telling Nico she would help him with the statue.

"Stay safe," Percy called. He had a new appreciation for the Son of Hades.

He hugged him, making Nico squeak.

"I won't be alone," he said against his ear. "And by the look of things, neither will you."

Nico pulled back. Percy turned and saw Annabeth approaching him hesitantly, guilt all over her face.

"Hey Seaweed Brain," she said, wincing. "I think we all need to talk."

Percy didn't know what to say, so he just nodded dumbly.

"See you later, Percy," Nico said behind him.

When he turned back, the son of Hades was already talking to Reyna as she helped tie up some ropes from the statue to Nico's back.

For some reason, his heart rate picked up at seeing him.

#Percico #my writing #writing prompt #I hope this one was good #also I put a bit of salt in there #hope it wasn't too bad #ask #heroichalfblood

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terrainofheartfelt · 2 years

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Just remembered your mysterious HIMYM/GG au 👀

ohhhhhh, you. bless you for holding me accountable for my au nonsense, S, I love you.

Alright then, by popular demand, and by popular I mean at least one (1) person asked for it:

The Gossip Girl HIMYM AU that I will never write

this is....this is SO long, but you know who I am, and I am not brief. and since the tags are still goofy I'm just warning you now. and putting the meat of the post under the cut.

For starters, there’s the building of the core 5, the friends who’ve known each other forever. Now, you may think the obvious choice for the lead, Ted, a professional grade-a sap who gets his heart put through the ringer before he meets the titular Mother would be Daniel Humphrey Professional Yearner, BUT the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to do this:

Blair Waldorf as Ted. And Dan as Tracy, The One Blair finally meets on a Hamptons train platform.

And nobody dies or gets divorced, because...

Oh, and obviously everybody’s gay.

Here me out under the cut:

Blair and Vanessa Abrams were roommates at…I’ve thought NYU, but I also thought it would be interesting just to have them meet at Yale (plus like, Dan is at NYU, so). They clash at first, for obvious reasons, but after a battle at the Parents Weekend event, they bond over their fraught relationship with their parents, and then become best friends after getting caught in a snowstorm trying to drive back to the city on Thanksgiving Break. (Yale would obvi make the road trip make more sense). Nate meets the both of them in their freshman hall, and he and Vanessa fall hard for each other during orientation week and have been together ever since. Making the central Marshall/Lily relationship Natessa, which I think works the best, they would carry that same goofy energy, while also being Blair’s self-assigned emotional guardians. Vanessa has that mom-friend “I am the sole possessor of the brain cell” energy Lily has, plus the artistic passions and struggling to realize them, even at the cost of her relationship. And Nate has the shucksy-doodles bi-coded lovable goofball himboness of Marshall Eriksen, who’s internal conflict is often about balancing the practical and idealistic – but Nate’s has more to do with grappling with his family’s expectations, and Marshall’s is more about his own.

A Natessa plot of them getting engaged, then calling the first wedding off because Vanessa gets a fellowship far away sounds like a conflict that would be very in line with their characters, as would the fallout of not only Nate taking time to forgive Vanessa, but Blair would as well. That bit in the s2 xmas episode of “But you never apologized to me! You left me too.” – I could see that. Blairnessa bffs rights.

After graduation, V scrapes together a living as a contractual production assistant, her filmmaker dreams inching to the side for the service of the cash. Okay, I toyed with the idea of lawyer!Nate, but you know what I like better? Taking a page from both Lily Aldrin’s book AND our discourse about different career paths for Natie and making him: a schoolteacher. A softhearted himbo of a kindergarten teacher. He’s very good at it. When he and Vanessa get engaged he is also going for his masters in education (bc he loves teaching, but he wants to affect change at a higher level by being an administrator someday). (Nate would also “rescue” a goat after a farmer brought one to show-and-tell to his class.)

Blair trades her art history degrees for paying her dues at her mom’s atelier. Somewhere along the way, they pick up their group’s lovable ne’er-do-well, Carter Baizen. He, like Blair, is another disaster bisexual, but he, unlike Blair, is more of a scapegrace about it (but definitely not to Barney Stinson levels, because this is my au and I do what I want). (Have Blair and Carter ever hooked up? I think never knowing/always being vague about it would be a funny gag). Nate & Carter would also absolutely have that chaotic goober vaguely homoerotic best friendship that Marshall & Ted & Barney have.

And HERE. Here is why I wanted to have Ted!Blair, for the potential offered by our Robin character: Serena. A significant will-they-won’t-they romance arc for Blairena. They lock eyes across a crowded room, Carter urges his best friend Blair to introduce herself, cue the year of flirtation and back and forth.

(And honestly, Blair being so very Extra™ and telling Serena “I think I’m falling in love with you” on the first date seems on-brand for our girl)

Lots of Robin & Serena line up: privileged yet screwed up family background, effortlessly gorgeous, ambitious, it’s absolutely plausible that Serena could have been a teen pop sensation in Canada, on the record for not wanting to settle down too soon or be a mom, the last which ultimately leads to Blairena breaking up, because what they want out of life is too different. But it’s impossible for them to imagine life without each other, so after the dust of the breakup settles, they stay friends. They would also be dumb enough to make a “if we’re still single when we’re 40” marriage pact. They break up after their anniversary dinner, when a waiter brings a diamond ring-garnished glass of champagne to the wrong table and Serena says, “No, no, no, B, you cannot do this to me, no! No, no, no!” prompting a discussion about their conflicting goals for the future. It’s also a week before Vanessa and Nate’s wedding, so they keep it quiet until the couple is on their honeymoon to tell Carter.

[Robin also has a remarkably similar plot to Serena with her baby sibling and her issues with saying “I love you,” which is another surprising parallel.]

I would also like to present as evidence, your honor:

they're the same picture

If by this point, you’re wondering if I’ve given any thought to the Furniture Question, yes, it’s this: chip wiskers was Blair’s first bf that she was on-and-off with in college, and Nate and Vanessa thought he was The Worst, and made Blair into a worse person. Because aside from being a total douche, he also cheated every time Blair’s back was turned. They reconnect for a sec in their late 20s, and Vanessa schemes to break them up because chip absolutely fails her Front Porch Test. Chuck = Karen

While Blair is reeling from The Breakup, Carter convinces her to come out with him on St. Patrick’s Day, and they end up at some ridiculous nightclub. Also there? Dan Humphrey, having been dragged out of the house by his little sister Jenny. They don’t meet, but Blair swipes the umbrella he left at coat check when she leaves and it starts raining. She keeps it for a couple years.

The burn between Serena and Carter is low and slow, because Serena was Blair’s for so long, but they are oddly compatible, and eventually they fall into bed together, and Blair is furious when she finds out, nearly causing the friend group to fall apart, but it doesn’t. Serena and Carter both, of course, catch feelings, but they stay in denial for a long time.

Meanwhile, Blair meets Louis, and they start pretty serious, but rocky, and one day, in an effort to end a fight, Louis proposes, and Blair says yes. Then gang thinks they’re moving too fast, but Blair, being Blair, digs her heels in, even when Louis bitchy little sister’s (Beatrice’s) wedding falls through and Louis and Blair decide to take over her wedding, which is, to put it lightly, the antithesis of what Blair Waldorf’s wedding should be. Louis (ever jealous) and Blair clash over Serena being invited to the wedding, and in an effort to even the score, Blair invites Louis’ ex, Estee, to the wedding too. Estee shoots her shot, and she and Louis run off together before the wedding, leaving Blair at the altar.

And I can so see Serena giving Blair a speech similar to the one Robin gives Ted, “You’re just disappearing into someone else’s house, someone else’s life, and that isn’t the happy ending that you deserve.”

Blair moves on, and throws herself into her design work, but it keeps leading nowhere, leading to another Vanessa life lecture: “Fashion is killing you, Blair. And it’s killing us to watch it killing you.” Louis, wrought with self-flagellating guilt, orchestrates an adjunct professorship in art history for Blair at Columbia, and after Vanessa’s prompting and the rest of the gang’s encouragement, she takes it.

She’s so nervous and tense her first day of teaching that she refuses to take questions from the class during her first lecture, and accidentally teaches the first 20 mins of ENG-405. In that class? Dan Humphrey.

Speaking of, a few brief “How Your Father Met Me” things before we continue:

The night Nate and Vanessa get engaged is Dan’s birthday, he and Jenny and a few friends are meeting at a bar in Brooklyn. Dan’s partner is running late, but when Dan gets a phone call from them, it’s the news that they’ve been in an accident.

He holes himself up after that loss, until Jenny has enough of it, and pesters him into going to a club with her on St. Patrick’s Day. While there, they run into an old acquaintance of his from Steinhardt, Paul, who’s teaching orchestra. Dan insists that he donate his old cello to Paul’s school, and invites him over. Paul mistakes it as an invitation to hookup (The Naked Man!) but he and Dan end up having a good conversation.

“Even if it sounds crazy, what is it you want to do with your life?” / “I want to be a novelist.” / “Okay. Then everything you do from here on out is in service of that.”

Dan applies to grad school at Columbia for creative writing, and also plays guitar part-time in his sister’s band, playing weddings, bar-mitzvahs, etc. etc.

When Jenny gets a fashion design opportunity in London, she bequeaths the band unto Dan, and leaves an empty room in the loft, meaning that Dan goes to Columbia also in need of a roommate.

He sits next to a guy named Elliot in his class ENG-405, who just moved to the city and is looking for a place.

OMG in this scene Tracy makes a joke about serial killers…and…Joe Goldberg lololololol

“Just promise me there won’t be any naked people in the living room.” / “Don’t worry. I am on permanent hiatus in the love department. I know it sounds a little old fashioned, but I think you only get just one. And, I got mine already.”

Aaaaand we’re back!

So Blair is hitting her stride as an art history prof, and one day she runs into this cute guy in the hall, Elliot, who’s a PhD candidate with a focus on Contemporary Literature. He was in the English class she accidentally taught on her first day of work. She really likes him, he’s cute, intellectually stimulating, but he calls it off because of school’s policy for protecting students, even though they're the same age, are in different departments, and have the same amount of degrees. Blair even goes over to his place to talk to him about it “Blair Waldorf in Brooklyn? Are you lost?” / “It isn’t Brooklyn I’m here for.”

She tries to plead her case, but keeps getting sidelined by stuff of Elliot’s that she swears is proof of their compatibility—a poster of Godard, a vinyl of In Rainbows, a copy of Rosemary’s Baby (“don’t tell anyone, but it’s my Valentine’s movie”), a sweatshirt that says “What Would Dorothy Parker Do?” (“it was a christmas gift from my friend Vanessa, I had no idea more than one existed!”)—only for him to say “That’s my roommate’s actually.”

Blair leaves The Loft without laying eyes on Dan, but she thinks she might have glimpsed his foot, and out of sheer awkwardness, she leaves so quickly that she forgets her umbrella, unwittingly giving it back to Dan.

Elliot said that he had “a bit of a roommate complex” on their first date, which really means that he was ass backwards crushing on Dan Humphrey, his roommate that he met on his first day of classes at Columbia. (though he doesn’t really realize it until after he breaks things off with Blair, and kisses Dan when Dan tries to comfort him – “how could she not love you?...the way you fall asleep doing the crossword…” conking out while trying to solve the nyt crossword sounds like Pure Dan tbh).

Elliot’s romantic turmoil doesn’t last too long, because as he’s figuring out life as a bi guy, he meets, *drumroll* Serena’s little brother, Eric!

While Blair is doing this, Serena and Carter try dating, and implode after a few months. They’re just…not ready for each other, no matter how much love there actually is. They try to move on, see other people, and for a while make a pretty good show that they are actually over each other.

In the meantime, Vanessa and Nate start trying for kids (though arguably one could say they already have three) she accomplishes a few doc projects, he gets a job at a big-time prep school, and Blair throws herself into academia, gets herself published, and gets tapped to put together her first exhibition. It’s a major project, so it takes a fair amount of time to put together. And while it’s happening…so many backslides!

Serena and Carter hookup, cheating on their partners. Carter shoots his shot, saying that he wants to be with her, and breaks up with his girlfriend, Beth, to be with Serena. But Serena can’t bring herself to do the same, staying with…uh…let’s say Colin.

Vanessa gets pregnant, and Serena thinks she does too after her hookup with Carter, but she finds out that she’ll actually never have kids. She acts like she doesn’t care, but however she planned her life, she still needs to grieve, and Blair is there for her even though she doesn’t know the whole story. When Serena finally tells her, it’s after she and Colin break up, over the fact that Serena doesn’t want kids. Blair has a backslide of her own, telling Serena “I love you,” which will be the last time she says it to anyone (in that context) until Dan.

Blairena breakup (without ever really getting back together), Vanessa and Nate have a baby (named…maybe Arlo? If we’re following the name after the grandfather pattern of Lily & Marshall), and Carter is…Carter.

He’s being his usual scapegrace self, and spends a night playing a game with Vanessa and Blair about how he can collect people’s numbers with increasingly ridiculous parameters. The girls eventually get bored, and con him into running an errand for them by hitting the drugstore and picking up take-out. His chosen “target” at the drugstore turns out to be *drumroll* Dan. and I can totally see Dan looking this guy over and thinking “oh, he’s so sad :/” and the “I think you were in love and then you messed it up,” and them having a deep conversation out on a bus bench and Dan telling him to stop screwing around and go get the girl. That night, and that conversation is when Carter starts to plan how he’ll propose to Serena. He wasn’t ready for her then, but he is now, and he knows that Serena is ready for him, too.

(Dan, at this point, is seeing somebody--let's make it Olivia, bc why not?-- but when Carter asks, “Are you two gonna go the distance?” Dan answers, “I don’t know. I still think I haven’t met the right person yet.”)

(Carter delivering that “this woman has a hold on my heart” speech…yeah…)

Blair’s career is on the rise, but on the night her exhibition opens, when Serena offers to go as her date, Blair delivers her to Carter instead, deciding to let Serena go. She had a feeling she knew what was going to happen next, but during cocktails in the gallery, Carter sends a text to the group: “Serena and I are engaged!”

She’ll only let herself say that she’s happy for them, but inside, Blair is—conflicted, and (okay this scene was the beginning upon which this entire cursed idea came from so) Vanessa finally gets Blair to admit to it. It’s the “Admitting it would make you the most awful person in this room, so I’m going to give you an out. Sometimes, I wish I wasn’t a mom. Sometimes I want to pack a bag in the middle of the night, leave, and never come back.” The confession is enough to get Blair to say, “Serena shouldn’t be with Carter, she should be with me.”

Blair and Vanessa talk. And V loves her life, it’s just that she doesn’t feel like she ever got a chance to do the work that she set out to do. She wanted to be a filmmaker, remember? But all she does is gig after gig, only surviving, and a baby on top of that? It never lets up.

Vanessa convinces Blair to let Serena and Carter book a wedding band, and then she talks to Nate. Nothing’s solved really, but both women feel better having the truth out there.

While Serena and Carter plan their wedding, deal with Serena’s difficult mother Lily, and try to out-cute each other, Vanessa starts putting herself out there with her work, and she writes a grant proposal for a documentary that gets accepted. The only thing is, it requires her to live a year in Barcelona. She freaks, thinking that she shouldn’t take it, but Nate, who’s been feeling cornered by his own job, stuck in the same politics of NYC prep schools, which is like the van der bilt pipeline 2.0, encourages her to take it. (He’ll just be the malewife, taking care of the baby, learning to make paella, and watching Spanish The Price Is Right, and he LOVES that idea).

At the same time, Blair’s work and publications get her a job offer at the Getty in LA (or MOMA in San Fran? Or maybe just straight up Paris? idk), and she decides to take it, because she’s not sure she can hang around once Serena is married to Carter.

Speaking of job offers, Nate gets one, to be a principal at his dream school (to bring in another sitcom, think Jess Day’s job in New Girl), but it’s time sensitive, and he accepts, even though he and V already planned on moving their little family to Spain. There’s a biblical level fight, but Vanessa caves, only for Nate to insist that No, we’re moving to Spain.

Serena and Carter decide to get married in the Hamptons, in the "backyard" of Serena's grandmother's summer home (it's more like a fancy rich person garden, we all know this). It’s a big whole damn weekend, after which Vanessa & Nate & Arlo and Blair will be leaving New York – or will she?

The band Carter and Serena originally booked falls through, bails a week before the wedding, but luckily, the BOTB’s husband used to live with the guitarist of one of the best wedding bands in the tristate area. They just had brunch with him, and his gig for the coming weekend just fell through! Wedding saved!

Before the move to Spain, Nate and the baby go visit his mom down in Newport, leaving Vanessa on her own. She hangs around Blair, which is how she discovers Blair is moving.

Blair takes a car service up to Amagansett, but Vanessa refuses on principle, and takes the train instead, and ends up sitting across the aisle from a nice guy, who—when she gets riled up from yet another passive act of aggression by Anne, her mother-in-law—asks if she’s okay and listens to her rant. And that’s how Vanessa meets Dan.

Dan shares the cookies that his sister sent him in a care package, and after dissing Anne Archibald they pivot to discussing French cinema and Jean-Luc Godard and the genius of Sergei Eisenstein.

Despite having made a new friend, Dan has some interpersonal drama of his own. When Elliot fell in love with a man over the bridge and moved out, Dan looked for a new roommate, and who should find him but Georgina Sparks. She’d not needed a place, but was interested in his band, and Dan being the guileless lil duckling that he is, invited her in, and she promptly took over. Now, she was trying to shove Dan out, likely in retaliation for not hooking up with her. Righteously incensed, he tells Vanessa all about it when he finds out, and she offers up her own brand of personal justice: steal the bitch’s van. So Dan does.

Georgina Sparks is a total firestarter, and spends the evening of the rehearsal dinner trying to stir up shit between all the friends. She is ultimately unsuccessful.

While carrying out his own variation on Abrams Justice, Dan comes across some knucklehead walking on the side of the road hauling luggage and a baby. Nate & Arlo took the Jitney up, which then broke down, and Nate foolhardily decided “I can walk that far.” He couldn’t. But Dan offers him a lift, freaks him out because Vanessa told Dan all about her husband, but they become fast friends. “Your wife is cool.” / “The coolest.” Dan vents about total fire starter Georgina, and Nate offers up advice about standing up for himself and fighting for what he thinks is right: a lesson he recently learned in standing up to his mother about his life choices.

At the inn, Nate and Vanessa are reunited, but Dan’s head of steam wears off. “There’s no defeating the devil,” he says. And then there’s a commotion on the patio outside, and Georgina storms in, shrieking about how “the maid of honor just punched me in the face” (Georgie had broken the bottle of 95 Dom Blair had brought for a rehearsal toast with the gang, and Blair responded accordingly). Dan laughs, unable to help himself, and Georgie throws a fit and quits the band “I’m going back to the new Guns n’ Roses!” Dan asks the bartender to send a glass of champagne to the maid of honor, and that’s the first drink he ever buys his future wife.

Riding the high of finally having the toxic Georgina out of his life, he leaves the inn to go to his girlfriend’s family’s Hamptons house. While there, Olivia springs a marriage proposal on him, and Dan realizes: he’s been holding himself back, being with someone safe, which means he doesn’t have to face moving on from what he’s lost, or risk being hurt so deeply again. But he realizes he’s ready to move on, he’s ready for it to be real again. So he says no.

He goes back to the inn, and the night clerk says “You’re in luck, father of the bride never checked in.” (because WVDW is and always will be a piece of shit!!!). Dan doesn’t feel that lucky, but he takes the key (he just needs one) and heads to his room alone. Even though he knows he did the right thing, ending it, he still feels—well, shitty. So he grabs his acoustic and heads out to the balcony, and plays his go-to song for when he wants to make himself feel better: “Moon River,” not knowing that the biggest Breakfast at Tiffany’s fan in the whole world is on the other side of the balcony wall, listening.

The day of the wedding Carter and Serena each have their own crises of confidence. Lily Rhodes (who’s been married four times) really rocks her daughter’s boat, but Eric & Vanessa calm her down. The big crisis though, is when she freaks, and decides the Blair is the person she should be marrying, but here’s the thing, Blair doesn’t feel that way anymore. Blair has really let Serena go, and she is trying to see her best friend’s married and happy together, damnit, even if she has to hold the shotgun herself, this wedding is happening.

And Serena says. “Fine, you’re right, we can’t run away together. So I guess I’ll just have to run away alone!” She makes a mad dash down the halls of her grandma’s old Hamptons mansion, out into the garden where they’re setting up the reception, and runs smack into the band’s guitarist. And that’s how Serena meets Dan (oddly not that different from their first meeting in canon).

“To be honest I’m not sure if I can go through with getting married.” / “Oh. Wow.” / “That’s it? You’re not gonna try to talk me out of it?” / “Okay, during that fall, you did kind of get to second base with me and we’ll always share that, but – I don’t really know you.”

He doesn’t try to talk her out of it, but gives her some solid advice to take three deep breaths. She does, and when she opens her eyes, there’s Carter. And everything is fine again.

After a long crazy road, Serena and Carter finally get married (Eric walks her down the aisle), and then, there’s the reception.

A few dances and a few glasses of champagne in, Carter finally recognizes the frontman of his wedding band. “Guitar-guy! Hey, remember when you told me to stop messing around and get the girl? Check it: I got her! What about you: you still dating that girl?” Dan shakes his head, and then Carter is hit with a piphony. Thee-piphony.

He tries to convince Blair to let him set her up with the guitarist, but she’s moving tomorrow, remember? And she has a train to catch.

Said train, of course, is delayed. So she waits on a bench, sheltered from the rain, reading Colette for the hundredth time, patience thinning by the minute. And then, a flash of color catches her eye, it’s an umbrella, and underneath it, the guitarist.

It’s a stupid idea. She’s moving away in the morning. But she can’t shake it, this feeling that she’s only ever let things pass through her fingers, that she used to want to live like a film heroine. But heroines ultimately don’t just let the story happen to them, they act.

So she walks up, taps the guitarist on his (really nice) shoulder, and speaks. They talk, they banter, they flirt, and it feels…right.

“You’re Elliot’s ex-roommate, right?” / “Yeah. And you’re the professor. I took one of your classes.” / “Really? Which one?” / “ENG-405.” / “English? I never taught – oh no.” / “Oh, yeah.”

“Wait. This is my umbrella. You totally stole my umbrella, Humphrey.”

“What are you talking about? I bought this.”

“Mmm-mm. This is mine. That’s my monogram on the handle. See?”

“So you stole and defaced my umbrella?”

“It’s mine.”

“Nuh-uh. I have proof. Sure it was ten years ago that I bought this, but I hoard all my receipts. Though…I did lose it for a little while there. I went to this club –”

“On St. Patrick’s Day.”

“And you left it there.”

“And I left it there.”

“And you never thought you'd see it again.”

“And I never thought I’d see it again. Funny how sometimes you just…find things.”

It’s both the most cinematic and most real Blair’s life has ever felt, and there’s only one thing to say. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

48 notes · View notes

cow-smells · 3 years

Text

Party Favors (Eli “Hawk” Moskowitz / reader)

Request: Can I have one for a Hawk smut where he’s having a little pool party and the reader is usually always wearing modest/baggy clothing but she wore a pretty sexy bikini to the party and everybody is shocked cuz she is hiding a super nice body under all those clothing. Hawk gets a boner seeing her and has to go inside the house to fix his problem and the reader goes inside the house and catches him and offers him some help and he’s shocked because she seems innocent. Basically a version of that fast time at ridgemont high bikini scene lol (for: @le-fashionmwah )

A/N: there’s been an influx of requests for Hawk smut so I really hope this hits the spot lol. felt really dirty writing this even tho its probs not that bad?? idk. lemme know. also, for some reason i only looked up that scene/movie halfway in to writing this, so i hope this is somewhat what you visioned

Words: 1582

Warnings: nsfw :)

Read on AO3

It had been a couple of months since your family moved to California, and you were loving it.

You befriended the Cobra Kais as soon as you started school and they had invited you to a pool party today at Sam's house.

You were a little bit reluctant to go at first, preferring to keep your weekends to yourself, reading a good book all curled up in one of the over sized hoodies you usually wore; that was, until Hawk came along.

“Come on,” he whined to you a couple of days earlier. “Miguel's going to be all up in Sam's ass and I'll be bored as hell. You gotta come keep me company.”

You hated to admit it, but you were putty in his hands. You were nursing an ever growing crush on Hawk from the moment you first layed eyes on him; so naturally, you were easily convinced. You were desperate to make a move on him, but you were still new and friendless other then the Cobra Kais; you feared making a wrong move and losing them all.

That is how you came to find yourself in Sam's back yard, trying to recognize familiar faces. You arrived with Miguel who as per Hawks prediction quickly abandoned you to chase after Sam, leaving you to fend for yourself. You scanned the yard filled with your peers; you couldn't recognize anyone – at least, not by name. Taking your phone out of your hoodie, you tried calling Hawk to no avail. He didn't pick up.

Assuming he wasn't answering because he was driving over (you didn't want to think he might have decided to pass on the party after convincing you to come), you decided to do the only thing there was left to do at a pool party – go for a swim.

You took a deep breath and took hold of your over sized hoodie, pulling it up and off of you, leaving you in nothing but the new bikini you got just for this (and maybe, just maybe, for Hawk too).

You didn't notice the many pairs of eyes that were suddenly focused on you.

Embracing the carefree air of the party, you jumped in to the deep end of the pool, letting your body sink for a moment before propelling yourself up to breathe. The cold water woke up your senses, letting you forget about your previous shyness if only a little. You swam to the edge of the pool and pushed yourself up to sit on the ledge.

“You're the new girl,” a voice suddenly asked. Looking aside, it was a boy you recognized from English class. He allowed himself to take a seat by you. “sit behind me in English, right?”

“Yeah,” you smile, happy to have been noticed. You two go on with your small talk for a little while until an extremely recognizable figure walked out the house.

“Hawk!” you called, more eager than you probably should have. You excused yourself from the boy who acted as a pleasant distraction, rising to your feet and making your way over to him, your bikini dripping heavily.

It took Hawk a heavy moment until he responded, his jaw slightly slacked as you came to stand in front of him.

“Hi,” he finally said, feeling his mouth dry. Hawk had to train his eyes intensely on yours, lest they venture downwards.

“Took you long enough,” you tease, nudging his arm playfully. “oh, sorry,” you apologize at seeing the spot you touched become dark with moisture. “I'm wet.”

Yes, you are, Hawk thought to himself.

A slight gust of wind hits you, and you cross your arms under your chest, trying to preserve your heat.

Hawk looks aside bashfully, heart pounding at your now even-further pronounced breasts. “I, um,” he mutters, “forgot my bike running. I'll be right back.”

Without a second glance to you, Hawk leaves in a rush.

You see him through a window and to your surprise, he doesn't leave the house. He detours to a bathroom.

You felt confused and slightly offended – what was the rush to leave you like that, after you greeted him so publicly too? Was he... embarrassed to be seen with you?

The negative thoughts began plaguing your mind; there was only one way to settle this, you decided. With that, you entered the house to confront him.

You're two steps in to the living room when Moon gets an eyeful of you. “Damn, Y/n!” she surveys your scantily clad body with a grin. “You were hiding that under all those layers? Good for you, girl,” she winks. Your quest to Hawk continues with reddened cheeks and a little grin.

You reach the bathroom you saw Hawk enter and knock, calling his name.

“What?” Hawk replies, his voice strained and perhaps agitated.

“I'm coming in,” you declare boldly, turning the door handle and prying it open.

“No, don't -” Hawk begins, but it's too late. You're already in.

Hawk's face is red, his shirt is tousled – which brings your eyes down to his unbuttoned jeans, and a prominent bulge coming from them.

Your eyes widen as you realize what you just walked in to. “Oh.”

Hawk looks just about ready to bury himself alive. “Would you get out already?”

You space out for a moment as your brain runs through the course of events. He walked in, saw you, left with a boner.

Huh.

“I can leave,” you finally reply. “or,” his eyes lighten in confusion. “I can help you out.”

“Help – help me out?” Hawk stutters and he scolds himself for acting so timidly, like Eli rather than Hawk. He needed to regain control of the situation.

You shut the bathroom door, making sure to lock it. Walking up close to him, Hawk looks down at you, trying so hard to regain his composure. You sink down to your knees.

He nearly protests, cowers away, asks what you're doing. But then he doesn't. He's Hawk, and Hawk doesn't back away when the girl he's infatuated with is eye-level with his dick. He stays put. He takes control.

Your hand goes to caress his hardness over his clothes. Hawk one-ups you and pushes his jeans and boxers down, revealing himself to you completely. His hand weaves through your hair, letting him see your expression better.

He's worried, for a moment, that he might have taken things too far, read you incorrectly. A thought that's quick to leave his mind once your tongue is on his tip.

He thinks his heart might actually beat out of his chest. He would have never, not in his wildest dreams, be able to imagine this scenario happening in real life. Although he wanted you for a while now, he didn't think you returned his feelings. Besides that, you were usually modest, you clothing hiding your body under it and you never flirting with anyone. He'd never peg you for the type to go down on him in a bathroom during a party with half your school year just out the door.

Hawk groans as you slide your tongue from his tip to his balls, cupping them in your hand. It's nearly overwhelming to him when you spit in your hand and begin to pump his shaft.

Hawks grip on your hair tightens; you take him in your mouth. Hawk can't help the throaty moan that leaves him as you take him as deeply as you can, hollowing your cheeks as you pull away.

His free hand comes behind your head and his fingers find the strings holding up your bikini, which he allows himself to pull on until they sever and the top of your bikini comes loose.

Finally taking control, Hawk uses his grip on your hair to guide you on and off his dick, making you take him deeply enough you have to relax your throat to accommodate him.

“You're such a good girl for me,” Hawk groans as he gazes down at you with his dick in your warm mouth. “you take me so well.”

Your heart swells at the compliment, at the clear pleasure you're bringing him.

Hawks moans rise in volume and his hips rut gently forward while he holds your head in place. Without warning a gust of warm liquid pools in your mouth. Hawk pulls out and before you can think to move he cums, white strands painting your lips and cheeks before dripping down to your bare breasts.

You swallow what made it to your mouth and look at Hawk towering above you. He looked absolutely spent... and content.

Hawk helped you to your feet, this time allowing himself to stare at you to his hearts content. He helped you clean off your face before taking it in his hands and kissing you deeply. You couldn't believe you had managed to do all that before sharing your first kiss.

Breaking apart, Hawk lets his hands skim down your body, his thumbs flicking your nipples playfully before taking hold of your bikini strings and tying them back up behind your neck, leaving your breasts still covered with his cum underneath the fabric.

He finished tying the knot, kissing you once more. “You're my girl now.”

There's a question there, beneath the deceleration, so you nod. Feeling bolder than before, Hawk holds your hand as he leads you back to the pool.

#cobra kai imagine #cobra kai #cobra kai hawk #eli moskowitz #eli moskowitz imagine #eli moskowitz x reader

628 notes · View notes

hoodieofholland · 3 years

Note

Hi if possible could you write a image where the reader isn’t famous but is dating Tom, he goes lives on Instagram and starts letting fans join and ask him a questions. You get picked to join and both of you have to try and keep a straight face without giving it away.🙂 doesn’t have to be exactly this is obviously just whatever you feel like! Thank you💕

tom+instagram here we go :)

Hope you like it!!

Warnings: language, that's all :)

"What are you doing?”, you ask your boyfriend through the phone, pressed between your ears and shoulder, while you wandered around the house to get some tasks done. There were noises in the other side of the call, and you could distinguish Harrison’s voice.

“Nothin’, just setting things up for my live. Harrison’s been helping me, you know how I suck at this whole Instagram thing”, he explains, humming as he scrolled through his phone, you on speaker.

You giggle, “I know it pretty well. Think I’m gonna just take a rest and watch you struggling online”.

“Ha-ha, very funny, girlfriend”, he puffs, but you can almost hear his smile behind that sarcastic tone. “But I’d appreciate if you showed up. Who knows, I could just introduce you to all of my fans”.

You take in a sharp breath, contemplating if that was simply a joke or if there was a true desire behind that statement. You chew on your lips and keep silence.

The two of you have been in a relationship for almost one and half an year now, but you managed - only God knows how - to keep discreet about it, keeping it a secret. For his friends, Tom had an amazing girlfriend, whom everyone pretty much appreciated spending time with. For the rest of the world, Tom was a single, charmer and desired young Hollywood actor.

It wasn’t like he wanted to keep you his little secret. It was pretty much the opposite, actually. After your first six months together, Tom had tried to convince you to reveal your relationship, too tired of not being able to show off your love outside the comfort of his house. But you wasn’t willing to do that just yet. And after one and a half year, there you were, still afraid of how things might end up if you told them the truth.

You loved Tom, and you loved the fact the he was such a talented, hardworking man, but the fact that he was also a Hollywood star, known in the whole world, made you feel cornered. You didn’t want people to judge your relationship, to judge you or to give your relationship some kind of approval. You just wasn’t ready to give up your anonymity and become Tom Holland’s girlfriend.

Things were just perfect the way they were. You wanted it to stay like that for a little more time.

But you knew the day would eventually come. It was hard to not be spotted in the street with Tom by your side. You’d never show up in an event together, always making sure to only hold hands or show affection when behind four walls, only when you were pretty sure there was no paparazzi following him. You didn’t like that neither. You wanted to act normal, to have nice date nights with him, to walk outside in summer with Tessa. You just wanted to be who you were with him inside his or your house.

“I was- I was kidding, love”, he said sheepishly, and you could sense the nervousness on his voice, chuckling slightly to hide it from you. “It would be dumb, right?”

You swallow hard. “Uh- no. No, it’s fine. I mean, I’m not ready yet, but it’s alright. I know you were joking”. You curse yourself for being so dramatic about it, but you couldn’t help it. “So, when is it starting?”

“In about five minutes actually. I gotta go now, okay?”

“Yeah”, you smile tightly. “Okay, gonna watch here. Love ya”.

“Love you, darling”.

You both hang up and you sit on the edge of your bed, laying down and closing your eyes, puffing your cheeks out and rubbing your temples. “Damn it”.

Before you can call him back and tell him you were sorry over it, you sit properly on your bed and open your Instagram app, searching for him. After those exact five minutes, he was going live. You smile at the picture of him on your screen. He looked handsome, as always, but added up to the fact that he was far away, in Atlanta, while shooting Spider-Man 3.

You watch as he explains what he was going to do in his live, waving to Harrison right behind him, distracted on his own phone, saying that he was there as a support team. You laugh at how clueless he is. He starts to pick fans to join live and ask him questions. You were pretty surprised that he was allowed to do that, not giving away any spoiler, but he managed it after all.

You were having fun watching him struggle to say some usernames, and kinda surprised at how bold some comments on the bottom of your screen were. He’s single, remember?, you think to yourself and sigh frustrated. You could just go on and tell everybody, put an end to this whole situation during interviews, where Tom was always questioned about his love life and got uncomfortable about it, where you were upset for not being able to tell them to stop shipping him with girls he wasn't interested in, cause he was with you and you only.

But instead, you just sat there, watching your gorgeous boyfriend smiling sheepishly at the camera while a fan asked him about some photos that were taken of him and his co-star a while ago. He shrugged it off and told her they were just friends, but the comments made it very clear they weren't buying it.

"Alright, gonna pick another one, lemme see..."

You get yourself distracted by the concentrated face he put on, a small wrinkle between his brows, and then it happened.

All of a sudden, you see yourself on the screen, half of it filled with Tom's video, just like the previous fan. Your eyes go wide as soon as you realize you're going live with Tom.

"Shit!" He curse immediately, eyes bugging out and looking for something on his screen to take you out of it. "Sorry, I think I just tapped the wrong thing- fuck, how do I-?"

You're startled, looking at his agitated movements as he waves to Harrison desperately, and you try to think about what to do while being completely dumbfounded with the comments going on. Most of them were laughing at the fact that Tom kept being clueless with Instagram, but some of them actually commenting about you.

She's so pretty!!

Omg i think i saw her with tom somewhere

Is she the girl that was at the ffr set and no one new about??

You are about to close your app and leave them all behind, but you can't seem to be able to take your eyes off of the screen. A thought is stuck in your mind, where those people could actually know you, talk to you, and this shouldn't be so hard.

Tom wanted it. He wanted to show the world that you were his girl, wanted to go places with you and not need a whole scheme to protect you from camera lenses.

So instead of just stepping out of this, you decided to wave your hand at them, sit on your bed a little straighter and smile.

"Hey, Tom", you said, leaving it up to him if he wanted to say it now or not. He looked at you with wide eyes, Harrison by his side, a boyish smile plastered on his face.

"Hey, uh, y/u/n" he tried to play it cool, not so sure about what he wanted to do. "Nice user". And just like that, the two of you played along as two complete strangers for a whole ten minutes, until you said your goodbyes and Tom were left alone to end his live.

You felt incredibly happy with the nice comments and about how easy it was for you to make an appearance for the first time. It wasn't like you had just told them the truth, but it was something, and you felt more comfortable about it now.

Tom called you to a video call as soon as he ended the live, equally amazed by how this turned out. He apologized for bringing you to it, and you told him it was fine, that you even liked showing up.

"I think... I think that I'm ready", you said, biting your lips nervously. "I mean, if you are too".

He went silent for a few seconds before saying. "Wow. Really? Yeah, I mean, I'm more than ready. It doesn't have to be like an announcement, we could just, I don't know, go out and just wait till they-"

"Guys!" You heard Harrison shout somewhere in Tom's living room.

Tom turned his head to look at something Haz was showing and the blonde quickly made his way to appear on your screen.

On his phone there was a page with headline: Tom Holland goes live and fans spot his supposed girlfriend, y/n y/l/n.

Harrison scrolled through the page, where a lot of evidences of you and Tom being together were collected, when both of you were spotted in the same places at the same time or even one of you at Far From Home's set.

"Uh, so..." Tom twisted his nose. "I don't think we'll need to tell them anymore".

********

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#tom holland #tom holland blurbs #tom holland imagines #tom holland fic #tom x reader #boyfriend!tom #actor!tom #request #anon #request anon

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soupbabe · 3 years

Note

Hi there!! Is it okay to request Pol with a gn! S/O who used to work as one of Dio’s assassins? They would feel bad about their past and working for him, but Pol would teach them about companionship and learning to deal with the past! My apologies if this is worded weirdly, the idea came to mind pretty fast and I wanted to send an ask before I forgot! 💕

Guilty (Jean-Pierre Polnareff x GN! Reader)

Polnareff comforts one of Dio's (ex) pawns

:00 I love this idea!! Fic time fic time >:)) ending kind of bleh because I'm bad at responding to comfort stuff hhh

Translation: Mon coeur = Sweetheart/Honey

Mon cheri/Ma Cherie= My Dear

~~~

It's been another day of traveling and Mr. Joestar was able to get everybody a hotel room in Cairo. Of course you and your boyfriend Polnareff were paired up together. Although it's nothing serious yet (Polnareff insists on making it official after the crusaders defeat Dio, then he can take you on a "proper date," ) you've grown used to calling him your boyfriend. It's not like he will deny either, it's clear in the way his cheeks light up when you say it in front of other people.

Currently, said man is asleep, moving closer to you and draping an arm around you while he lightly snores in your ear. You lie awake reminiscing about your own past before you met the group, when you pledged your loyalty to Dio.

It all started when the vampire approached you one night. He caught a glimpse of your stand and offered you some company. He promised to help you improve upon your abilities, he told you how valuable you would be if you joined him. His aura was alluring; it gave off a false sense of security, but it gave you an awful feeling in your gut. It would seem that Dio wasn't a patient man because before you could run off, he held your face in his hands. All you could feel was an icy chill go through your forehead before you blacked out.

You felt like a backseat driver to your own body. Any kind of defiance to your goal to hunt down Jotaro Kujo gave you an almost crippling migraine until you complied. Ahough your memory was hazy during your time under the control of a flesh bud, you were able to piece together events to make sense of it all. You went to India, caused a massive fight, and the next thing you knew the teen you were forced to seek out was sitting over you with a dark pink tentacle like creature in his hand.

You felt immediate remorse once you gained full consciousness. You started a scene in public, causing harm to innocent civilians and even the man who was cuddled up next to you.

Your thoughts get cut off by Jean-Pierre looking at you through tired eyes and yawns. "Y/N..why are you still awake? It has to be late." He cups your face and immediately becomes more awake when he feels tears on your face. Polnareff sits up right and turns on the bedside lamp. "Y/N, what's bothering you? Are you alright?" You wiped away your tears and sighed. "I've just been thinking.. before I joined you guys, I did awful things. I even hurt you, Pol.."

"What happened to you wasn't your fault, Y/N. What Dio does to people is inhumane and that's why we're on our way to kill the bastard. You can ask me or Kakyoin, we both understand how it feels being under his control. You're not alone here, mon coeur." Polnareff wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer to him. You lay your head on his chest as he gives you a kiss to the top of your head. "I forgave you a long time ago Y/N. You already proved to us that you were sorry and grew from it. I think learning to forgive yourself is an important step to moving on. I'm certain that everyone else doesn't really care about how we met you anyways. All that matters is that you're here with us to kick Dio's ass."

You shrugged. "I don't know Pol.." The Frenchman rested his head on yours and thought for a moment. "When my sister died, I couldn't forgive myself. Hearing the news about her murder made me feel like I failed as a brother, even though there wasn't anything I could have done to prevent it. It haunted me and motivated me to join Jotaro, Avdol, and the others. It wasn't until we reached India, I found the man that murdered her. I was so caught in the moment that I acted on impulse and was blinded by my idea that maybe if I end his life I could move on and forgive myself, that my decisions almost ended up ending the life of Avdol..." His eyes became blurry at the recollection. "It didn't get rid of the grief I held and only made things worse. Of course I will always love and cherish my sister, but it was time I had to let go of things. Whatever happens will never change the events that already occured."

You leaned up to gently cup Polnareff's cheek, wiping off a stray tear and sighed. "Thank you Jean..I appreciate and I'm thankful for you telling me this. I love you." You kissed his cheek. "I love you too mon cheri/ma cherie." He turned to turn off the light and laid back down, moving you so you're laying on his chest comfortably. "It's getting late, you should be getting your beauty sleep~" he smiled. You gave a half hearted laugh "Alright, goodnight Pol." "Goodnight, Y/N."

You closed your eyes, ending your night with a weight being lifted from your chest.

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojos bizzare adventure stardust crusaders #jjba x reader #jjba part 3 #jean pierre polnareff #jean pierre polnareff x reader #jjba polnareff #polnareff x reader

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canary3d-obsessed · 3 years

Text

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed, Episode 22 part one

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff) (Previous Post)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Not Quite Like Old Times

We ended the previous episode in daylight, with Lan Wangji putting Wei Wuxian and swordpoint and declaring his undying love lecturing him about his lack of sword skills.

We start this episode in full night, with the two of them sitting on a roof together. Presumably they spent the missing scenes getting dinner in the mess hall, doing some laundry, and definitely not making out. Fic writers, do your thing.

Finally, FINALLY, Lan Wangji has chilled out enough to actually sit and listen to Wei Wuxian, instead of yelling at and/or physically attacking him. The Zoloft is really helping!

Wei Wuxian is indulging in romantic recollections of their first rooftop encounter. Lan Wangji, who has loved him since he first laid eyes on him and who wrote a whole song with an entire music video about their love, featuring that very same rooftop encounter, shuts him down so completely he might as well have whipped out Bichen again.

First he corrects his description of events by pointing out they were fighting, not talking, back then. Then when Wei Wuxian continues in his charming, smiley reminiscing vein, Lan Wangji says "things change, how could they stay the same" with a deep, sad, weariness.

He seems like an old man in this moment, and I feel for him, really, I do. But he's not the one who's carrying the actual essence of death around inside him. Wei Wuxian is being much more generous in this interaction than Lan Wangji is.

Wei Wuxian thanks him for not narkng to Jiang Yanli about the whole talisman/forced suicide/ghost hummer/ghost flaying thing he did back in Yiling. Like there is any way Lan Wangji would ever tell Jiang Yanli, of all people, something like that about Wei Wuxian. He's lying to his own brother to cover for Wei Wuxian, and Wei Wuxian totally doesn't get it.

(more after the cut)

Unfortunately, there's no reason Wei Wuxian SHOULD get it, at this point; Lan Wangji has not communicated anything but disapproval to him since his return, and Wei Wuxian, despite their (apparently temporary) mental linkup in the Turtle cave, is not a mind reader.

Lan Wangji is so hurt here, and Wei Wuxian appears to ignore that, continuing to smile and laugh; he’s still sunny, still happy. Seriously, they are so tonally out of step with each other in this conversation, it's excruciating.

Lan Wangji: I’m feeling good about my tear-holding-back ability Wei Wuxian: do I look more fuckable sitting up? Or leaning back?

But every one of these smiles is an absolute lie. This is Wei Wuxian appeasing an authority figure; baffling with bullshit and skating by on charm. This is not a young man confiding in his soulmate.

Even when the conversation shifts, and they talk seriously about what is going on with him, Wei Wuxian is barely confiding anything. He briefly acknowledges that he was in the Burial Mounds for three months, and shudders at the memory, but Lan Wangji doesn't respond to that other than to look away from his face.

This is almost the last thing Wei Wuxian will ever say to anyone about that experience. He only alludes to it again when Jiang Cheng visits the settlement and talks smack about their corpse turnips. Lan Wangji says he wants to know why Wei Wuxian’s cultivation changed, but he really doesn’t; he just wants to convince him to change it back.

Wei Wuxian explains about using Lan clan techniques to protect his temperament, as well as the flute and talismans, to control the resentful energy. This is a good reminder that Wei Wuxian was never a bad student. He was an outstanding cultivator within the Jiang Clan, and he learned a hell of a lot during his time in Gusu, despite getting expelled for fighting.

His original golden core was stronger than Jiang Cheng's, even though he apparently started cultivating later. Yes, he fell asleep during meditation that one time in Episode 43, but that's not because he's bad at meditating, it's because he was tired from getting railed all night by his boyfriend stabbed in the gut by his nephew.

Lan Wangji eventually manages to ask him a question like an interested fellow human being sharing knowledge, instead of like an authoritarian dick calling him to account.

Side note: I still am flopping around trying to find good-sounding English terms for Chinese philosophical concepts. I kind of like "ghost path" vs "sword path" for the two styles of cultivation - I don't know where I saw that, apologies to the translator. I like "necromancy" for the part where the dead are reanimated and controlled, because we definitely have that in English. But there are many layers of nuance in these conversations that English is not equipped to render in a natural-sounding way.

Lan Wangji tells him, again, that it's dangerous, but this time he does it in a gentler and more poetic way, saying it's like taking grain from a burning fire, and says he's in danger of becoming the novel version of Wei Wuxian a demonic cultivator. Wei Wuxian, also gently and seriously, says he knows.

Then he immediately goes back to his lightest tone and promises, with his three-fingers gesture, that he will not fall into demonic cultivation. This gesture is basically the Wei Wuxian "I am totally fucking lying" salute.

He is totally fucking lying, and he MUST know it. He's baking the Yin tiger amulet every day during his meditation, getting ready to use it against Wen Ruohan, getting ready to take over his army of the dead.

He has the audacity to ask Lan Wangji, "do you believe me?" and Lan Wangji, also totally fucking lying, nods. Their relationship is just as broken right now as it was before their courtyard sparring session.

You can tell it's broken, because after they've reached this apparent place of peace, Wei Wuxian just hops down off the roof and LEAVES Lan Wangji sitting by himself. When has Wei Wuxian ever been like "gotta go!" with Lan Wangji? The last time they were here, he spent the night sleeping on the roof tiles just so he could be near him.

As he leaves, Lan Wanji stands up and says "let me help you." Wei Wuxian is not a fan of that idea, at all, if his expression is any guide.

He agrees, though, and leaves smiling, apparently for real, but maybe just practicing for all the fake smiles in his future.

Hooray for War

In the morning, Nie Mingjue makes an angry speech to the 2 dozen cultivators who apparently make up the army. Extras are expensive, y'all.

The senior cultivators are standing to the right or left of him, with the Lan brothers bracketing the Yunmeng sibs. Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng are both staking their claim to Wei Wuxian, while Lan Xichen is standing in the spot closest to Nie Mingjue; Nie Huaisang is on the opposite side with the Jins.

All of the random cultivators yell a war chant in response to Nie Mingjue's speech, while the senior cultivators are like, we don't have to do that yelling stuff, thank goodness.

Nie Mingjue's war outfit includes metal (ish) epaulets on his shoulders and a totally not-kinky belt featuring multiple rings with nothing attached to them (yet) and an angry demon face right above his junk.

Nie Mingjue says we're going to storm into Nightless city and I'm going to chop off Wen Ruohan's head! By which he means, I'm going to get captured and get my ass beat, and then my murder-babie ex-boyfriend who had this belt specially made for me is going to stab Wen Ruohan in the back while he's distracted. They do say no plan survives contact with the enemy.

Side note: Baxia makes a loud metallic "shnk" noise when NMJ takes it off his back during this speech, even though Baxia does not have a scabbard. You do you, Baxia.

All the senior cultivators file out down the center while everyone else parts to let them pass. Then everybody does the Electric Slide.

Jiang Cheng tells Wei Wuxian they should go ahead of the main force to get some killing in early, but Wei Wuxian just pulls a face and looks down, staying with Lan Wangji.

Jiang Cheng is disappointed, and no doubt takes this as a sign of WWX choosing LWJ over him. But actually, WWX can't fight side-by-side with Jiang Cheng without showing his weakness.

LWJ and WWX exchange one of their unspoken "let's go" eye touches and get ready to ride out together with the main force.

Lan Wangji is still super, super sad. Wei Wuxian is still fake. But something is starting to knit together between them, and once they can hit a battlefield together, it will get a lot stronger.

On A Horse With No Name

Everyone rides out on horses, which will presumably get eaten somewhere along the way, because they appear to travel on foot after this. While Wei Wuxian practices his horseback-flute-twirling, Lan Wangji asks why Wei Wuxian didn't go with the forward force to fight.

Wei Wuxian says that he has a case of the don'wannas, and Lan Wangji snarkily points out that he used to like fighting. Wei Wuxian reacts, just as he did at the end of their sword fight, with embarrassment, and doesn't answer.

Lan Wangji, sweetie. You are really not helping.

At this point, despite their ongoing fighting, Wangxian are clearly together again. Lan Wangji isn't riding with his brother; he's RIGHT next to Wei Wuxian, and will stay close to him through the rest of the campaign.

Nie Huaisang hollers "Wei-Xiong" from the top of the battlements and tells him to take care. Wei-Xiong lifts his flute in acknowledgement while Nie Huaisang looks worried. He doesn't tell Nie Mingjue or Lan Wangji to take care, just Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian is his particular friend, more than Lan Wangji is, but he may also be concerned because he can tell that Wei Wuxian isn't well.

Nie Huaisang hasn't yet developed the deep cynicism that he calls upon in his quest to avenge his brother, but he has always been a voracious collector of information, and he is keenly observant.

Side note: what the fuck is going on with this sculpture? Kudos to the artist. This has beautiful forms, and is weird and disturbing. The main head is wearing a horned skull on its forehead, small ungulates that I hesitate to call “deer” chilling on its horns, and...snakes? biting its ears?

Boring Wen Interlude

Wen Ruohan is waving his hands around. Sigh. This is one of the more boring villain performances ever, and it's not the actor’s fault. They could have given him a sidekick to yell at or something, so we could get more than just hand waving. I’ve given up screen capping any of this; there are more interesting things to look at.

Battle Moves

Jin Zixuan and Jiang Cheng and their forces have an extended fight scene with a bunch of puppet dudes and stuntmen in harnesses.

It's pretty fun to watch. (Fanvid with more over here)

The gist of the fighting scenes is that Wen Ruohan is getting stronger, and Klingons are hard to beat.

Battle Planning

Finally we see a sidekick with Wen Ruohan, although he's blurry so it's hard to tell that he is totally Meng Yao.

The Sunshotters have set up a Battle Camp Playset. It's got chunks of gates and walls that don't connect to anything, like a Duplo set. It's just randomly open for most of the back area so that anyone can walk in.

They've got a cage of hilarious definitely-not-zombies set up, and the rest of the wounded cultivators are lying on the ground.

The main battle trio go chill in Nie Mingjue's incredibly fancy tent. They talk it over and say it's impossible to kill unkillable enemies, "even when we have millions of troops." And by “millions” they mean “dozens.”

Nie Mingjue decides the way to handle it is to kill the leader and everyone else will collapse, because he has watched vampire movies and the last season of Game of Thrones and that's how it works. Watching the last season of Game of Thrones is why he is so angry all the time He says he's going to sneak into Nightless City and assassinate Wen Ruohan.

Okay, first of all, Nie Mingjue can sneak? I don't believe it. Second of all, if that was possible, why didn't he do it as soon as Wen Ruohan attacked his clan?

Nie Mingjue wants to take the biggest risk because he's the commander in chief, which is not how commanding is supposed to work, but okay.

He says if he dies, Zewu Jun will take over. Jiang Cheng starts to protest but Zewu Jun appears as if conjured, and shows them a map that will...dear GOD his hands are beautiful.

It's a helpful map, painted in multiple colors with careful writing on it, so if anyone were to show it to Nie Huaisang he would probably go "oh cool Meng Yao painted that" because anyone who could paint that well probably spent a fair amount of time at it on a regular basis. But, Nie Huaisang isn't here so, nope.

It’s always nice to see Jiang Cheng smile.

Wei Wuxian and Lan Waniji examine some of the puppets to see what's up. It's transmitted by touch, and Lan Wangji says that curing one dude takes three months of spiritual power. Ain’t nobody got time for that.

Writing Prompt: Missing scene! How did they get from the fight in the courtyard to the talk on the roof?

Soundtrack: 1. Shine on You Crazy Diamond, by Pink Floyd 2. Electric Boogie, by Marcia Griffiths

#the untamed #the untamed gifs #wangxian #the untamed meta #canary3d-original #my gifs #wordcount 2379 #restless rewatch the untamed

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flowercrown-bard · 3 years

Text

A comforting embrace

Summary: Still thinking that he was the one with the Djinn wishes, Jaskier is overcome by guilt for killing Valdo Marx

Relationships: Jaskier&Valdo Marx, Jaskier/Geralt (background, pining, no actual relationship, unrequited)

angst, hurt/comfort (but mainly hurt), somewhat open ending

Word count: 2773

Content warning: grief, guilt, mention of blood, presumed character death

“I wish very badly to leave this place forever!”

Jaskier was lucky. He was so damn lucky that the Djinn hadn’t twisted his last wish and killed him off right then and there.

One should think a bard, master of words and silvertongue, would know how easily words could be misinterpreted, and yet, in his moment of blind panic, he had blurted out a wish that could have been his end.

He liked to think that Geralt would have cared if Jaskier had died. Maybe not as much as Jaskier had, when he had thought that Geralt had been crushed by a crumbling building, but maybe a teeny tiny bit of devastation would have been appropriate.

Then again, Geralt would have had Yennefer’s arms to find solace in.

While Jaskier was overtaken by the chilling realisation that he could have died by his own words just a couple of minutes earlier, and needed Geralt close to assure him that they were both alright, that nothing bad would happen to them now, Geralt didn’t wast a single thought for Jaskier and instead turned all of his attention to the woman who had held a knife to Jaskier’s throat and had nearly killed Geralt.

The initial surge of relief and pure joy at seeing Geralt alive was quickly dimmed when the events of the past hours came crushing down on Jaskier with a force that took his breath away and squeezed his throat as tightly as the Djinn had earlier.

Jaskier had nearly died. He had come dangerously close to watching his best friend and the man who held his heart in his hands, die. He had to watch said man fall in love with someone else.

And yet Jaskier was lucky.

He had to be, for if he wasn’t, if he were to lose this one last piece of driftwood he was holding onto for dear life, he would fall apart and drown in the terrifying reality of what had happened to him that day.

Jaskier was lucky. Others weren’t.

Jaskier had thought that, when the Countess de Stael had left him for a troubadour, who wooed her with poetry and love songs stolen from Jaskier, he had thought that he had every right to be enact revenge on Valdo.

And he had. A ditty dragging Valdo’s name through the mud. A scathing sonnet about how Valdo was no more a poet than a common ass was. Winning back the Countesses’ heart. All of it would have been revenge that Jaskier wouldn’t have enacted with a smug smirk and satisfaction surging through him.

But this… the thing he truly had done….

Jaskier’s hands began to shake and abruptly, he turned away from the sight of Geralt and the sorceress together. Even as his breath came short and his heart began to pound against his ribs like the beating of a drum at an execution, Jaskier evaded Chireadan’s concerned questions.

He had to get out of here. He had to leave, to make this right –

There was no making this right. He had killed a man. A simple sentence had been all it had taken and Valdo had been no more.

The fate that Jaskier himself had only narrowly escaped had been inflicted on another man – and for what? Jaskier wouldn’t be able to see the Countess ever again. Not after the wish he had made when he had been drunk on cheap alcohol and bitterness. The thought of her welcoming him with little clothing, that had been so appealing when he had been heartbroken and deep in his cups, churned his stomach now that he thought about it. She wouldn’t have a choice. She would do whatever Jaskier had damned her to do and he couldn’t do that to her, no matter how much his heart ached for a pair of loving arms to embrace him and for gentle lips to tell him that everything would be alright.

Geralt had never embraced him and whatever words he would have for Jaskier, probably wouldn’t be gentle. They still would be enough. Because they would come from Geralt.

Yet, Jaskier didn’t stick around to find out if Geralt ever was going to offer him any comfort.

He took his bags – not that there was much of Jaskier’s that Geralt had taken with him when he had hoisted Jaskier onto Roach and brought him to this accursed place – and his lute and left.

Maybe Geralt would worry when he realised that Jaskier was gone. Maybe he wouldn’t even notice.

With an ache in his chest, Jaskier forced his feet to take him away from Geralt and the happiness he experienced right now. Geralt didn’t need Jaskier, his fears, his doubts and his guilt to drag him down. He didn’t need Jaskier to wish he was in the sorceresses’ place. He just simply didn’t need Jaskier.

He didn’t even know where exactly he was going. Away. That was the most important thing.

It was only, when he reached a small port, where merchant vessels could dock before heading further down the Pontar, that he knew where he needed to go.

It took up most of the coin he still had to his name and a promise to make himself useful on board, to convince the captain of the vessel to grant him passage to Cidaris via the sea route.

The days until he reached the coastal city, Jaskier spent agonising about what to do.

Back in his Oxenfurt days, Jaskier had considered Valdo Marx something like a friend, or at the very least a rival that he enjoyed drinking and joking around with. But decades had passed since those days and now, there was no second chance to rekindle the friendship they had once had.

The troubadour was dead and it was Jaskier’s fault. He had no right to weep over his grave. Yet, Jaskier knew, the least he could do was apologize to the man he had killed. It wouldn’t make anything right. It wouldn’t bring him back to life. But maybe it would make this guilt that lay around Jaskier’s chest like an iron chain, lessen its grip.

He left the ship without saying goodbye to the crew and for the first time in his life, he didn’t enter Cidaris with his head held high and a song on his lips, ready to prove that he was far superior to Marx.

“Where is the troubadour’s grave?” Jaskier asked the first person he came across, an older looking woman with flowers bundled in her arms.

She gave him a strange look – She knew! Somehow she knew Jaskier had killed Valdo! - and handed him one of the flowers she was carrying, a poppy. Red, like the blood on Jaskier’s hands.

“If you’re looking for someone sleeping beneath the earth,” the old woman said with a gentle smile and a pat to Jaskier’s hand, “you should head east. That’s where the cemetery is.”

How fitting. Valdo had always loved the sunrise, had made fun endlessly about how Jaskier was never able to get up before midday.

Now, he would never see the sunrise again.

Jaskier’s heart got heavier with every step he took towards the cemetery. By the time, he was walking the rows, looking for a headstone with the familiar name, his throat was restricted and his eyes burned.

It was his fault.

And now he couldn’t even find the damn grave.

He must have spent hours searching for the grave, before he eventually gave up. It was no use searching for longer. The sun had nearly disappeared beyond the horizon and the poppy in Jaskier’s hand was wilted and crushed from how tightly he gripped it.

With his head hung low, Jaskier left the cemetery. Perhaps there would be a plaque of honour at the court the troubadour had played in? If there was, it wasn’t very likely that Jaskier would be permitted entry to go search for it.

He still went there.

Just as he had thought, the guards didn’t let him in. Jaskier simply nodded in dejection and sat down a little ways off, where they wouldn’t be able to hear him.

His hands trembled, when he took his lute out of her case and began plucking the strings quietly. Quietly, he sang the words of grief and guilt he had come up with during the journey to Cidaris. He didn’t dare sing any louder, lest he found out that his voice wasn’t restored yet. It was shaky and tight and it hurt as he forced the notes past his throat, but he continued singing nonetheless, whether because the dead man deserved the respect or because the man still alive deserved the pain, he couldn’t tell.

The melody was soft and mournful. It wasn’t good enough. If Valdo were here, he would hate it, would despise that Jaskier had written a song for him and criticise it mercilessly. Jaskier would take it. He would gladly accept every jab and insult coming from Marx, if only he was still alive.

But he wasn’t.

All Jaskier could do was play a dirge for a friend who had become a bitter rival and who had been killed over some petty spat.

He wished, more than anything he hadn’t spoken those hateful words to the Djinn. He wished, he was still with Geralt, consoling him about his struggles with his child surprise and probably arguing, but at least they would be there together. He wished Geralt had never found the Djinn. And above all, he wished that Valdo Marx was still alive.

“Good gods, who died to make you sound so maudlin?” A familiar drawl reached Jaskier.

The bard flinched, his fingers missing the right strings and creating a dissonant screech. He whirled around and –

No. It couldn’t be.

“That sounded terrible,” Valdo Marx said with a lopsided smirk. “And I’m not just talking about the ending there. Everybody knows that you shouldn’t use that key for a slow song. It’s just going to make it sound miserable. Speaking of which, what in Melitele’s name happened to your clothes? Not even wearing a doublet and –“ the troubadour blanched. “Is that blood?”

Jaskier stared at him. Slowly, afraid that the vison would vanish if he moved to quickly, Jaskier took a step closer, clutching his lute, his only source of comfort. His eyes raked over the man in front of him. The cocky stance that had shifted as a horrified tension had grabbed hold of him. The blonde curls that were immaculate as always, despite the late hour. That damned stupid feathered hat. It was Valdo Marx. It was impossible.

“You’re dead.” The words leaving Jaskier were barely louder than a breath.

“What?” Marx’ brows drew together and a flash of true concern twisted his face. “Juli- Jaskier, are you alright?”

“I-you – “ Jaskier’s voice broke off with a sob and he shook so badly that his lute would have slipped out of his grip, had it not been held up why the strap around Jaskier’s neck.

In a heartbeat, Valdo was standing before him.

“Give me that,” he demanded with uncharacteristic softness and took the lute away from Jaskier, placing it carefully back in her case. “What happened to you? Are you hurt?” His eyes drifted back to the bloodsoaked chemise that Jaskier had been too distracted to change out of, not that he had had any other clothes with him when he had left Rinde. “Why aren’t you with your Witcher?”

Another choked sound escaped Jaskier. He didn’t understand. How could this be? How was Valdo Marx still alive? Djinns were obligated to grand any wish their master gave them. It had been a wonder that Jaskier’s last wish hadn’t backfired, but there had been no room for interpretation with his second wish and –

Oh.

The truth hit him like a bucket of icewater being flung over his head.

“Jaskier?” Valdo asked, concern making his voice tight, but Jaskier couldn’t react.

He hadn’t been the Djinn’s master. It hadn’t been his wished fulfilled.

He hadn’t been the one who had set a Djinn on someone he had once considered a friend. But –

‘I just want some damn peace!’

His throat had tightened, like a garrotte was pulled tight around it, making it impossible to breath, to speak! Jaskier had looked up at Geralt, so sure that he himself was somehow the reason for what was happening to him. He was so sure Geralt would save him.

It hadn’t been Jaskier’s words who had nearly killed someone he had once considered his friend.

‘Jaskier, you’re okay.’

Geralt had cared. He had been happy that Jaskier was alive. It didn’t matter that not a minute after, he had abandoned Jaskier to risk his life for the witch. Geralt cared that Jaskier was alright…didn’t he?

‘Let’s not jump to conclusions.’

Geralt was his friend. He was…he…

He hadn’t faltered once when Jaskier had begged him not to go into that building again. After it had collapsed, he hadn’t wasted a single moment to let Jaskier know that he was still alive.

When Jaskier had left, had Geralt even noticed?

“Jaskier, snap out of it!” Valdo grabbed him tightly by the shoulders, shaking him slightly.

Jaskier hadn’t been the one who had nearly killed someone he had once considered a friend. Then again, neither had Geralt, apparently. Because it seemed after everything, after decades of Jaskier singing his praises, of him trailing after Geralt like a devoted puppy, after years of Jaskier admiring and loving Geralt more than he had loved anyone else before, it was very likely that Geralt didn’t consider him a friend.

Maybe he could fix it. If Jaskier proved himself useful, if he made sure to be there for Geralt, when his relationship with the witch crashed and burned, perhaps he could save what he thought they had had. He could…he could be a good travel companion. He could become Geralt’s friend. He could-

Cool hands touched his cheeks, interrupting his spiralling thoughts.

“You’re shaking,” Valdo said, all of his earlier arrogance was gone. “Let me take you home. I know we have our differences, but I can’t let you stand here, looking like that.”

There was no bite in his voice, despite the lacklustre attempt at keeping the snark they usually exchanged going.

“Valdo?” Jaskier asked uncertainly, not knowing where to put his hands or what to do.

“I know,” Valdo said, dropping his hands immediately and taking a step back, “that we have our differences. But…we were friends once. If you need someone to talk to, I’m here. I even promise not to turn what you tell me into a song.”

He smiled wryly and Jaskier’s next sob was mixed with an unexpected laugh. When Valdo relaxed at that sound, there was nothing left of the pompous prick that was Jaskier’s most bitter rival. This was the man he had called his friend when they had been younger. This was the man, whose shoulder Jaskier had cried on, when he had gotten his heart broken for the first time, and with whom he had practiced the poems they were going to recite to the pretty medical students who would patch them up when they had drunk too much.

“Valdo?” Jaskier asked and he wasn’t the arrogant bard who sought to take revenge on his rival, anymore either.

“I’m here for you.”

Jaskier’s chin wobbled and before he could think twice about it, he flung himself into Valdo’s arms, burying his head into his chest and soaking the elegant doublet with his tears.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was muffled, but he didn’t stop talking. “I’m so sorry, Valdo. I’m sorry.”

Valdo didn’t reply. But he stroked one hand soothingly through Jaskier’s hair and held him close.

The embrace wasn’t given by the man Jaskier had wanted to hug him, but they were comforting nonetheless. If he could fix what he had broken between Valdo and him, then he could also fix his friendship with Geralt.

For now, though, he didn’t want to think about the witcher who had set a Djinn on him and broken his heart.

He just clutched the fabric of Valdo’s doublet tightly and let himself be held.

He wasn’t alone in this. Not anymore.

Tomorrow – for now, there was hope again for such a thing as a bright tomorrow – Jaskier would tell Valdo everything. And perhaps, if he was lucky, he would get to keep this friend.

As Valdo mumbled soothing nothings into his ear until Jaskier’s tears dried, Jaskier thought that maybe everything would be alright.

Maybe he truly was lucky.

#my writing #fic #witcher #witcher fic #the witcher #valdo marx #jaskier&valdo marx #jaskier #fanfic #Sorry I didn't edit this #I got really frustrated at being stuck with my writing and I just had to write and post something #to get it out of my system i guess #geraskier #angst #blood tw #jaskier whump #emotional whump #will post this later on ao3 #if i don't forget about it again

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stilemawillow · 3 years

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Ten Times in Total [Erwin Smith | Noble! Reader]

[I]

The first time, she was certain, came when her husband tugged at her hand at the ball. It was an official event that gathered together many sponsors and clients of noble heritage. Then there were the soldiers.

Whatever they did, however they dressed, however silent they stayed, they popped out. They were an attraction. They were something abnormal, like a wild animal let loose at a social gathering. Of course, soldiers hardly scared her as much as she would've wished for them to. She was, in actual fact, rather fascinated with them. They were always stoic and when they weren't - they were pretending. It was a funny thing, how every single one of them put on a different mask and underneath hid the same grief-stricken face lined with years of experience they would've preferred to die before rather than live through. And their eyes, oh, how pitiful that sight was.

Pools of silver, blue and brown and green, sad and desperate and sometimes searching for hope that wasn't there. It made her chest swell with fascination and pity at the very same time. How could a group of people so broken keep themselves together? How could somebody so desperate to die keep living on and on? Didn't their stamina, emotional and physical, ever come to an end? Would it one day? Would that be the happiest day for them or the most pathetic one? Or maybe both? Did they ever cry?

For her, they were all the same. Then he showed up.

Blond and tall and cold yet confident. His eyes were the first red flag that should've appeared in her mind, but they met hers and the red flags all turned white and ever so helplessly hung in the air.

His eyes were blue, like the ocean she'd once read about, and clear like its surface. It was like he saw right through her, into her head where the thoughts hid and intertwined and sought the connection between the dots. His eyes were something she remembered well even after that, a vivid memory borne of a hazy dream during a boring night.

Her husband was at once at her side, tugging at her gloved hand and silently requesting her immediate attention. But she was on the other side of the hall, standing in front of the tall blond man as he introduced himself to her and all the thoughts in her little head jumped out of her mouth and introduced themselves to him. His face was a mask, she told herself, but how exactly was she able to reach that conclusion when her gaze hadn't even left his eyes yet?

Her attention was at once averted when her husband became a tad bit more persistent. She faced him, put on her best smile and brought the glass of wine to her peach lips with an innocent excuse he ate up like a starving tramp. Her smile broadened the more she drank, keeping her thoughts at bay and the oddity of her stares at minimum. She allowed herself some more glances left and right when her husband wasn't closely supervising her actions, figuring out that the blond-haired soldier was hard to miss.

He was talking to the Commander of the Military Police, Nile Dok if she remembered correctly and the latter didn't seem the happiest. On the blond's left side stood another even taller male whose mouth opened once or twice, very shortly. Next to him, almost like a bird perched on his shoulder, was a brown-haired woman with glasses wearing a plain dress, entertaining herself with how fast she could talk his ear off. On the blond's right side stood a short frowning raven. Her head nearly tilted at the sight because she recognised him - Humanity's Strongest Soldier, Levi Ackerman.

To her utmost amusement, the shorty's mask was hard as steel but she could clearly see how he was probably the most broken out of the group. A small smirk tugged at the corner of her lips before his grey hues shot her a look, having pinpointed the presence of her orbs on his face. Her shoulders almost jumped, her eyes narrowed at his glare and then he just faced the front with a snort. He opened his mouth. And then his blond companion looked in her direction.

He was handsome, that was something rather undeniable. She raised the glass of wine to her lips again, not waiting for the blond to react to her curiosity regarding the people accompanying him. His expression seemed calm and his features soothing, almost like he was telling her everything was okay and she needn't hide her fascination with them, not when he could see it either way.

The ball ended about an hour after that. The only thing (Y/N) left with was the knowledge of the blond's name - Erwin Smith, Commander of the Survey Corps.

[II]

Second surely came that one time they bumped shoulders. (Y/N) was tired and bored, a very bad combination. She'd stated to the servants she wanted some air before sprinting away from the house like the wind. She felt, to put it mildly, caged in that house. It was almost like a nightmare - everything she hadn't wished for in one place, becoming truth the more she waited for it to turn back into an ordinary bad dream.

She hadn't been forced into marriage, rather consulted into it, and the fact she didn't love her husband certainly didn't stop her parents from adoring him in her stead. Rich, generally handsome and polite enough as to hide his displeasure at social gatherings - what more could a pair of reputation-concerned parents want for their daughter? Nothing, came the obvious answer, and in less than a month she was married and shipped off to that cage of hers. She came to loathe her days of not being able to go out and just walk around the town, now she had to treat everybody like peasants and communicate only with her husband and all the ladies of the high-class with their powdered noses and fancy gossip.

Frankly, she got away every chance she got and the servants rarely did anything to stop her. Her husband would never understand, she kept telling herself as she skipped down the street with awe in her eyes and joy in her heart. Just feeling the cobblestone street under her feet was enough to make her happy at times. Looking at the shops and admiring the blue of the sky above her head.

Almost like his eyes, she thought whilst staring into a bucket full of clear water. Then her shoulders went rigid. She was thinking of a soldier when there wasn't a soldier anywhere near her. Goodness, this surely meant trouble for her. As long as she didn't see him again it would all be good, she assured herself. But the point she was missing was that the trouble came from her internal wish to see him again.

Into a troubled daze and staring at the sky, she bumped into somebody and retraced her last few steps in a clumsy waddle, seeking balance along the distance. Once having regained it, (Y/N) looked up and what a very pleasant coincidence it was that Erwin Smith was the one looking down at her. That was when it happened, she believed. His blue gaze, the one she'd thought ever so recently of, made her stiffen. He offered a polite smile but she beat him to the apology.

"I apologise for bumping into you, I wasn't paying attention." Her words were an utterance of discomfort though courteous.

"It's not a problem." He worded curtly, with a nod of appreciation for the apology. She didn't manage a smile in spite of her own wish to do it, mostly because he had put on his stoic mask and was clearly uninterested in what facial expression she, in turn, had to offer. (Y/N)'s hands, maybe for the first time in her life, started fidgeting as she observed the blond in front of her. His gaze was calm and beautiful, but it prodded at her thoughts with disturbing persistence.

"If you'll excuse me, I have something to attend to." She attempted a lame excuse as to shine a light for herself on a possible exit out of this situation that wouldn't burden her with additional humiliation or discomfort. She walked past the male, now wearing his uniform in contrast with the formal attire he had on at the ball, but then his voice boomed behind her back.

"Mrs. (Y/N) Stevenson?" Just hearing her husband's surname, which had automatically become hers as well, made her lips purse ever so briefly. Luckily, the Commander wasn't a witness to the action, but she was curious as to how he'd gotten ahold of her name without an official introduction.

"Yes, Mr Smith?" She turned back to face him with the kindest smile she could muster, deliberately using his name as well as to show he wasn't the only one who could acquire information about her. His eyes seemed to darken just a tad bit before his lips parted. And maybe she stared at his lips a bit too long.

"Please, tell your husband how happy we were to receive his support at the ball. He is a very generous man." The compliment made the woman's brow twitch.

"As it would seem." Her voice was sweet as honey and her smile was so practised it didn't even seem fake anymore. (Y/N) spun on her heel and resumed her walk down the street, trying to calm her nerves and figure out the reason behind her husband's sudden generosity, moreover directed at a social group he'd dissed mere days prior to the ball with a wine glass in hand by the fireplace in the house and a condescending sneer on his face.

Like all other things, it took her some time, but she came to the conclusion her husband was never generous if somebody wasn't going to be generous to him in return. The case here, as it seemed, was no different. And suddenly, she found herself contemplating the urge to warn Erwin Smith about that.

[III]

The third time had to be the one at his office, at the very door as she exited it. She'd made an appointment but she hadn't expected for it to go through so very fast. She thought a commander was supposed to have a lot of paperwork to do and very little time to spare for personal meetings, but there she was, four days after sending a letter seeking an appointment with Erwin Smith, being handed the note with the exact hour by one of her servants in the house.

She took her time preparing the following day, making sure her husband knew what her excuse for leaving the house was and putting additional effort into making her hair and face look better than usual. It was a strange act coming from a married woman, but she felt herself doing it merely when it was already all too late. She spared herself the internal reprimand and exited the house. Thirty minutes later she was in front of the Survey Corps Headquarters, wondering if she should knock or just make her way inside.

As the lady she needn't be at the moment, she opened the door herself and noted she was supposed to take the staircase to the third floor, where Erwin Smith's office was supposed to be. The hallways were empty and cold, but she soon found her way around. She knocked on the first door in line on the third floor and heard a very cold voice questioning her motives.

"I'm looking for Erwin Smith." She announced steadily, trying to keep her cool. The door was sharply thrown open by Levi Ackerman and she had to look down to meet his gaze. He was truly, as the rumours suspected, abnormally short for a man that could kill titans five times his own size.

"What do you have to do with Erwin?" The raven-haired male questioned with a frown, grey hues glaring menacingly.

"I'm not obliged to answer and you're surely not authorised to ask." Her return was curt and cold, similar to his own. She had the right to get defensive since she was being questioned by somebody who she figured wasn't a personal secretary or lawyer to Erwin Smith and would very soon be also late for her appointment with him.

"I have every right to ask what a self-indulgent noble has to do with the person that's keeping her shitty self alive." He snapped even though the only proof of that happening was the harshness in his voice and the big crease between his brows. She let out a huff through her mouth as her eyes blinked his way in offence. The voice slipping past her lips was condescending.

"Fascinating, you truly are the most broken one, just hear yourself speak." It was like she'd just acquired proof of the true extent of his trauma as a soldier. Maybe it wasn't only because he was a soldier, maybe it came from his childhood as well. Whichever, he seemed furious because she called him out on it and because she was looking down at him while doing it. It was like it degraded his personality, to be talked to as if he was an inanimate object of no true value. Maybe it did.

"Pardon?" He spat - not spoke, features contorting in fury. "Listen here, you---"

"Thank you, Levi. I'll take it from here." A hand landed atop (Y/N)'s shoulder as she frowned challengingly in the midget's direction. Erwin's touch startled her, but the blond's attention was on his short right-hand man. After providing the latter with an expression the (h/c)-haired woman couldn't see, Erwin pulled her along the length of the hallway. The slam of the door to Levi's office reverberated off the stone walls loud enough to make her shoulders jump. "I apologise, please don't feel bothered by his demeanour." The blue-eyed male suggested kindly as they stood in front of his office.

"I'm guessing he's like that with everyone." She snorted as he opened the door for her and let her walk inside first. The only thing she noticed was that his desk was truly stacked with paperwork like she'd expected. The rest of the office was tidy and cosy, devoid of anything that might let her think it was really Erwin's - no pictures, no colourful additions or even a coat hanging from the back of the chair behind his desk.

"Every person who either insults or doubts him, yes." The blond closed the door behind their backs and rounded his desk, gesturing for her to sit across him. "Now, please take a seat and let's discuss what you've come here to state." Her lips pursed as she pondered the reason behind her visit again - it was rather impulsive of her to just show up.

"I'd rather not sit, I am truly here just to make a statement away from my husband's ears." Her attempt at making her voice seem confident failed rather miserably, but the man behind the desk paid that little attention at the moment. His fingers laced together, elbows propped on the wooden surface.

"Your husband? So he has something to do with this? Or is it something to do with him?" One of his thick eyebrows was raised and to deny it affected her determination would be a lie.

"I must say the latter. I told him what you requested, but I'm here to warn you his investment isn't that genuine." (Y/N)'s head was held high but her fingers itched to play around with the belt on her dress. "He's getting paid to support your army by somebody anonymous and he's receiving more money than he is giving. I'm afraid once those money stop, the ones given to you also will. I don't know if this deal of yours includes a contract or just somebody's word, but do be aware my husband's generosity might turn out less than expected at any time."

Erwin Smith, frankly said, seemed rather unfazed by her proclamation. More so, he gave off the impression of being interested in something that didn't concern any of the words that exited her mouth. His expression turned unreadable the moment it relaxed, like he'd put a wall between her and himself. She was unable to see past it. The only thing that told her anything were his eyes, and all they spoke of was infinite equanimity.

"I see the goal, in this case, is to make us seem even worse than we already do, by being lied to and eased into a frail financial state, but I don't seem to understand why the wife of the middleman has come here to give out warnings about it." His statement shocked her, but she'd anticipated this question and had come prepared to answer it.

"In this case, I'm not the middleman's wife, I'm just somebody who wanted to be honest. Good afternoon, Mr Smith. Or should I say Commander?" Her hand settled on the door handle as she looked back at the blond commander. His face had returned to its stoic features but his eyes were just as mesmerizing as the first time she'd seen them. He nodded his head very lightly and she pushed the handle, which resulted in both of them hearing a small click.

"Just Erwin is fine, Mrs Stevenson." There was a restrained smile on his face. A gesture born of politeness. She wondered why it seemed so obviously fake now when the one he offered to all those nobles at the ball the previous month was just as fake yet came to his aid way easier.

"Then you shall call me (Y/N) in return. I quite dislike my current surname." She stated stiffly, not enjoying the sound of her husband's surname. Before she stepped out of the room, her eyed fled back to his. So blue, they were so blue.

"Very well."

There was another smile on his face. It wasn't the one formed by his lips but the one in his eyes. The beautiful glimmer that loved to talk to her was now only smiling, softly so. It happened right then and there and she felt herself take a sharp breath before bowing lightly and stepping out. Once in the hallway, she breathed until she felt she was once again able to walk without having her knees wobble.

[IV]

Fourth was the time she watched him smile at her, genuinely.

With a kiss to her husband's lips and a small smile, (Y/N) closed the door and waited exactly thirty seconds before stepping back from it. Somehow, she did it every time Allan went out, just to test if he was truly gone. A sigh left her lips as she met the gaze of one of the servants. The elderly woman's mouth stretched in a sad smile and just as (Y/N) was about to retreat into the living room another knock sounded at the door. Her first thought was that her husband had forgotten something, but if he truly had he wouldn't knock at all since he was late as it was.

"I'll get it, Laura, don't worry." (Y/N) graced the woman with a smile before approaching the door. The servant headed in the direction of the kitchen as her master opened the front door and showed only her face outside. Her eyes widened. On the other side stood the tall muscular frame of Erwin Smith, blue eyes gazing down at her gently. "My husband's not here at the moment." Was the first thing she blurted out ever so stoically as the blond waved his hand dismissively at her.

"That is quite fortunate because I haven't come here to talk to him." He announced with a small smile, making her eyebrows furrow because it wasn't fake. Or at least it didn't seem that way. Not forgetting her manners, she opened the door fully and gestured to the insides of the house with a polite smile on her lips.

"Come in." The courteous invitation resulted in Erwin Smith attempting to make himself comfortable in the living room in an armchair across from her less than a minute later. Again, he laced his fingers together which just kept bringing her attention back to his hands. They were big and calloused, but his fingers were slender. She wondered if his palm could envelop both her hands in its hold - highly possible. And then his voice snapped her out of her inappropriate thoughts.

"I wanted to thank you, Mrs Ste--- (Y/N)." Her momentary glare softened as he corrected himself. She kept listening silently, finding out that his voice was rather attractive when not giving booming speeches about bravery and sacrifice. "I spent the last two weeks contacting other sponsors that would be able to support our budget. We'll be ready for when your husband's anonymous endorser deters his generosity. Quite the disaster has been avoided due to your warning, so I need to express my gratitude." (Y/N) was quick to raise an eyebrow at him. He provided her with a confused look with a small smile. Again, it didn't seem fake. "Seeing as you are quite endowed when it comes to anything material I've come to request your company instead."

The statement shocked her enough to render her speechless for the overall of the following half a minute. Erwin gave her time to think it through. She did, three times in the least, but stayed just as clueless.

"My... company?" She stared at the blond's face wondrously, searching for anything that might hint what the reason behind his invitation was. She was quite sure that if a man as busy as himself wanted to thank somebody he'd send a letter and get it over with. He wouldn't march to their doorstep and tell them he wanted--- what exactly did he want from her? As if having read her thoughts, he spoke up.

"Will you please accompany me on a ride into town, next week? Maybe you could even spend the evening at our headquarters." Erwin's voice was smooth and deep and she found herself already agreeing at least a thousand times in her head. The look on her face however was obviously not expressive enough on the matter. "You don't need to give me an answer immediately of course." He cleared out, a mild tone of concern finding its way into his voice. She hastily waved her hands around in a dismissive manner.

"No, I--- I accept, it's just that I was thinking what I would say to my husband." She explained despondently, making his eyebrows raise questioningly.

"You need an excuse?" She, once again, eyed his fingers. Her head gave a slight nod despite the fact her thoughts and mouth didn't agree on one and the same topic.

"I always do, never the leave the house without one. If he learned I'd gone out with somebody, not to buy something he'd go mad." Her statement didn't seem to surprise the male. She felt like that was an impossible task. And her thoughts drifted back to his hands, his face, his eyes.

"It seems as if it truly is fortunate I've come here when he's not present." Erwin Smith's thoughtful hum sounded like a rumbling purr at the back of his throat. (Y/N) briefly wondered what his laugh sounded like. What his mere chuckle sounded like. Her eyes trailed over his lips curiously but then she snapped out of her daze and her gaze fled to his own, hoping that he hadn't noticed her eyeing his mouth. He had, judging by the amused sparkle in his blue orbs. She could feel herself redden in the slightest.

"It is, very much so. I appreciate the offer, and I accept. Just give me the details and I'll be there." She announced, a small smile crawling over her lips. She didn't know if it was because of the tension she'd created in her mind or the fact she was overwhelmed by this 'date' she'd have in near future with a man she obviously considered attractive. And then it happened.

"Of course." Erwin Smith's mouth curled in her direction kindly, eyes glimmering soothingly. No teeth were showing but she felt herself redden again. The sight of his genuine smile was something, as she found out later that night, that had imprinted itself in her mind.

[V]

The fifth time hit her fast and out of nowhere, right about the time she realised what he was about to do. Everything had been well. Her excuse was perfect. Her husband was oblivious. Erwin Smith was waiting for her when she walked out of the house in a pair of white pants and a (f/c) blouse. Her hair was tied and her eyes held an abnormally bright sheen. She was smiling, almost from ear to ear.

Erwin had escorted her to the town, where, she believed, her first-ever date took place. It lasted four hours and she'd never been happier. Ever since she'd gotten married - three years marked by the first day of the upcoming autumn, she'd never smiled this much. Erwin Smith seemed to surprise her, over and over again. She completely forgot he was a soldier, she forgot he was broken and hurt and the destiny of many lay on his shoulders. She forgot she was married and a noble. She forgot how she hated her life - this was her life now.

The walking, the looking, the blond's blue eyes, the smiles and the carelessness - they were her life now. And when the day made way for the chilly evening, the Commander mounted his horse as white as snow and they rode towards the horizon, soon arriving at the HQ. He helped her off the horse as she laughed, making him smile in return. It was late and Erwin Smith seemed more human than usual. His tone, his eyes, his face and his clothes were all casual and unbothered. Just for this one day, the busy Commander had made time for her. It made her smile every time she remembered it.

When he brought her up to his office and asked her opinion she just laughed.

"I loved it, I've never laughed this much in my life." Came the contented answer out of her lips. The blond was leaning on his desk, letting her observe the muscles that rippled under the white button-up shirt he'd put on. She couldn't stop her thoughts from taking off in a different direction. "Thank you for everything, Erwin." Using his name seemed odd yet satisfying. She figured she'd get used to it quickly, more so if he kept looking at her like he did at the moment.

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself." Another hum at the back of his throat, another indecent thought in her head.

"Now tell me, really, why you wasted a whole day on me." She crossed her legs and stared up at him from the chair in which she sat.

"Well, first and foremost, it wasn't wasted. Second, I thought I was showing gratitude." He pretended to be casual and clueless, but in truth, she was sure he knew exactly what she was talking about when she addressed the entirety of today and the reasoning behind it. The blond folded his arms across his chest just as she started speaking, distracting her momentarily.

"Yes, but you could've done that on paper too. Instead, you came to the house and knocked on the door, and then asked me out on something that really reminds of a date. Why?" She put most emphasis on the last word mostly because it was the one that bugged her most. Why had he done all that? What had he gotten from it? Not money or more time surely. Erwin's face seemed to fall for a second before he just snorted and looked into her eyes.

"It seems I've been compromised. You are very interesting, (Y/N), you're not a noble. Not a normal one. Not only did you agree to a date with a soldier, but you helped one - a whole division that is much hated by the public in fact. I wanted to see you for a bit." His last sentence, although smooth and soft, confused her. It didn't make sense with everything else he'd said. Like a part of a different puzzle. She cocked an eyebrow and pursed her lips in doubt.

"You've seen me already." Came the pointed reply that made the blond huff. There was something pulling at the corners of his mouth, but she couldn't figure out what exactly. Amusement? Entertainment? Confidence?

"I wanted to see the you that laughed without restraint, without thinking of her husband and worrying about her appearance at all times." He explained, making her eyebrows furrow. He had seen it alright, he'd seen her laugh and not worry and not think of her boring husband. So what had it given him? The satisfaction of charming yet another noblewoman and having her wrapped around his little finger?

"Has it satisfied you?" She asked with a narrow of her eyes, defiantly tipping her chin upwards.

"You're saying it like you're being used." Erwin was looking down at her harmlessly, but she knew if he was the Commander of the Survey Corps, then he was also a great manipulator. And a liar. She wondered which he'd use in this conversation with her.

"It sounds like it. Am I not an experiment of yours? Just the next on the list of women you've managed to charm?" She questioned with a frown that made him smile kindly at her. Maybe in his eyes, she was a stubborn child who wasn't used to being treated well by somebody who lacked an ulterior motive. And maybe that was true.

"I'm afraid that list is rather short because I'm too busy to charm women. You're not a conquest, you're... unique." The word slipped out innocently but she was momentarily stunned by its presence. She'd never been called unique. Pretty - yes, smart - not so much, calm - a lot. Unique - this right now was a first.

"Unique? It's such a strange word coming from you." She snorted condescendingly, fluttering her eyelashes at his handsome face. His arms uncrossed and instead grasped the edge of the desk he was leaning on either side of his body. It provided her eyes with a glimpse at the hands she liked to observe so much.

"Why so?" He inquired harmlessly, making her face the ground instead of his gentle expression. She pouted like a child and stubbornly refused to answer for the next few seconds. With a snort, she came to the conclusion he wouldn't speak before she answered him.

"You're the busy commander that has made time for a date that gives him nothing. You're the one that made me laugh like that." Her voice might've been reluctant, but her heart and head weren't. She was telling the truth. And she was afraid because she was very attracted to him, in every single way there was. He had her wrapped around his little finger the moment he looked into her eyes.

"I'm flattered." He couldn't help but chuckle. It was a magical sound. Then he reached out a hand in her direction as if asking her to dance with him. She didn't take it immediately. "I have a question for you." She hummed curiously as his eyes pinned her down. "Are you married today? Tonight?" A sly smile pulled at her lips before she took his hand, immediately understanding where things were about to head.

"For you, I never seem to be married." Her voice was a hush and his eyes were just so blue. The moment she got up from the chair, he pulled her closer to his body with a smile of his own. He was handsome and clever, and he could lie. She wondered if he was lying when his next words were voiced, but the glimmer in his blue eyes immediately denied everything and assured her of how truthful he was being.

"That is very fortunate because what I'm about to do will make you an unfaithful woman."

He was eyeing her lips and she could feel it deep in her chest, something was stirring. A smile sprung out on her face as she relaxed against his muscular body and let herself be kissed. One thing led to another and if she was to say the night that followed wasn't the best night of her life she would be lying. Very much so. Because amongst all other things, Erwin Smith was also a tender lover. It was her first time getting worshipped during sex and she loved every second of it. To the point she woke up the next morning grinning.

[VI]

The sixth time was a gradual process, yet abrupt in all of its miserable beauty. It came months after the fifth. Her hand was handling a suitcase and her cheek had been gifted a very colourful bruise minutes prior. She stood in front of the door to his office, fumbling with the thoughts in her head and the words at the tip of her tongue. She couldn't ask the things she wanted to ask. Maybe she had to go elsewhere. Maybe her parents wouldn't disown her. Maybe there would be a single person she knew that didn't hate her. Before she could turn around and leave, the door to the office was opened.

"I didn't make an appointment." She blurted out suddenly, letting him overcome the initial surprise caused by her unexpected appearance. Then he saw the condition of her face and clothes.

"(Y/N), what happened?" His eyebrows knitted together as his mouth pursed. His gaze seemed to linger over the bruise on her cheek before settling on her eyes. He didn't enjoy the sight of it. Seeing as she wouldn't answer, he figured the topic was not to be discussed in the hallway. He ushered her inside and let her rest on the small couch by the wall. The door of the office was locked. He crouched in front of her and held her hands. His eyes - she couldn't get enough of how beautiful they were even in such a situation, prompted her to talk.

"Allan figured it out, I guess. He wasn't happy. But the divorce papers should go through the court by the end of the week." She was looking down because looking into his eyes was scary and she wasn't ready to do it yet. She figured he'd be disappointed. Maybe even angry. She didn't even know how Allan had found out about them but it wasn't bad enough she was now to live on the streets, shamed and ridiculed by everybody, Allan would also make sure nobody ever sponsored the Survey Corps. She basically ruined everything for Erwin.

"I'm sorry, darling." His voice was a soft hush as he placed a palm to her unhurt cheek and rolled his thumb over the skin. Her lips pursed. He shouldn't have been so calm about this - he was way smarter than her and the conclusion she'd reached had to had appeared in his mind as well. So why was he still so gentle?

"It's nothing, Erwin. Really." Her gaze traced the floor and the tips of the blond's boots, but she didn't dare look up, no matter how he was looking at her. His hand prompted her to do so as he spoke up.

"You're free to stay here for as long as you wish. You can sleep in my room or I can assign you a new one where nobody will be allowed to enter without your permission." The length he'd go to for her made her guiltier. She met his gaze and kept herself from drowning in it, for this was a serious conversation. Her heart wasn't erratic but it wasn't calm either.

"I'm fine with staying in your room. I feel comfortable there." She truly did. She wouldn't handle living all alone with herself. She needed Erwin as to not let the nightmares and paranoia win. She needed him so she could sleep properly, she even needed him so she could breathe. Doing that in a room alone with her thoughts seemed like an impossible task, but she just hoped she wouldn't create too much trouble for him.

"Do you want a cup of tea?" The kind smile made its way back to his features, but his eyes stayed somewhat stoic. He was thinking. He was thinking about how he'd handle everything. Maybe there was a way to avoid all trouble. If there was he'd find it.

"I just want you to hold my hand." She murmured longingly, making him stop in his tracks as he was about to stand up. Instead, he took a seat next to her on the couch and grasped her hand. The warmth of his palm enveloped her and for a second she felt way calmer. Safe and secure. And loved. She looked up at Erwin and it happened, a gradual yet abrupt process that broke her out of her misery for just a second.

"That I can do." At that moment, she could hardly find the words to describe anything about him. Not his voice, not his eyes, not his expression. 'Loving' was close to perfect, but not there yet. So she settled for describing the warm tranquillity and unconditional affection that overcame her as she stared up at his eyes. And she liked to believe he saw that as clearly as she felt it.

[VII]

The seventh visited her that one time when she woke up in his bed and realised how much he meant to her. She'd been sleeping calmly. She'd been sleeping calmly for the past month. She was now officially, once again, (Y/N) (L/N) and she and Erwin had celebrated it not once or twice, but numerous times when he managed to spare a few hours for her. After that things had calmed down. The Survey Corps wasn't broke yet and (Y/N) wasn't living on the streets. And then everyone had gone on a mission.

It wasn't like she'd ever seen an actual titan in her life, but after hearing Erwin's stories about them it became her number one wish not to have to see one either. He'd always chuckle when she said that, but deep down they both knew it was true. Everybody would wish to avoid the titans if they had the choice. Most nobles had that choice. People whose duty wouldn't let them choose themselves over others, however, were a whole other story. People in the Survey Corps were like that.

Undoubtedly, the months she spent in the headquarters made her understand soldiers better. They were still fascinating but now it wasn't in the 'pet' kind of way, it was in the 'person' kind of way. She felt a strong sense of admiration for those people who just felt like sacrificing their lives in order for others to live. She got to meet quite some cadets and she felt like the only person out of place. Most of them had had terrible experiences and the only tragedy in her life was that she was newly divorced and forced out of her comfort zone.

Besides cadets, (Y/N) was also introduced to most superiors Erwin trusted, including Hanji Zoe - the madwoman with a titan fetish and admirable bravery, Mike Zacharius - the silent sniffer who turned out to be a close friend of Erwin's, and last but not least, Levi Ackerman - the short right-hand man with a freakish thing for cleanliness and the strongest character ever. Erwin told (Y/N) one night as she helped him with his non-confidential paperwork about Levi's past and how much he had to go through. Like the average person she was, she felt the need to voice how she'd noticed from the start how broken he'd been. Erwin had let out a heartfelt chuckle to that.

In truth, her radar stayed just as sharp after she started living amongst soldiers. She could still see the masks and the grief-stricken features at times, even on Erwin, but now she saw them on people with pasts who longed for a better future than the one they saw in their heads. Erwin Smith was an exceptional dreamer on that topic - he could stay up late and tell her stories about the world outside the walls he'd read about and what he planned to do once he reached it. As of late, his plans also started including her, which made her smile every time he'd dreamily slip it into the story without ever realising he had.

She loved listening to him. But she hadn't even heard his voice in a week. She hoped everyone was safe.

This morning was strangely slow for her. She opened her eyes and stared out through the window, letting her thoughts flow free. The blue sky was calming but it was also a reminder of Erwin. She felt like he had a thousand blues in his eyes. The water, the sky, the ocean he loved to talk about, the flowers in the field just past the training grounds. She wanted to see his eyes. So much.

She rose from the mattress when the clatter of hooves made its way into the room through the open window. She stumbled out of bed and showed herself, seeing the carts and the horses and the people. Some were wounded. Some were missing. And some she knew. She waved when Hanji noticed her. The brunette nudged Levi, who also spared her a glance. Mike threw her a small smile. But she couldn't see Erwin.

Sudden panic gripped her heart, making the smile on her face freeze. Levi's eyes narrowed at the stiffness in her figure but then he looked back ahead and pretended not to have noticed it as Hanji started talking to him. (Y/N)'s hand lowered and she eyed the rest of the soldiers frantically, searching for the tall Commander. He was supposed to be the leader, the first in line upon their return, but maybe he'd decided to ride back for once. Or he was wounded and was in one of the carts. Her eyes couldn't find him there. She tried not to let the third possible option get to her.

Erwin was coming back. He always came back.

She heard the door to the room open, which made her swivel and eye the intruder. When her eyes met his blue ones she felt her shoulders sag in relief. Her face clearly showed that as well because his expression was rather amused. There was blood on his shirt. It wasn't his. The seventh time was barely recognisable but the room was so silent they both might've been able to pinpoint it.

She snorted and then she was sprinting towards him. He had just enough time to open his arms before she jumped, making his back hit the door with a thud. A small snort escaped his nose as his arms wrapped around her. She was laughing, relief was coursing through her body, and when he met her gaze she felt like the happiest girl.

"I see you've missed me." Amusement and fondness both laced that sentence. She couldn't discern which was more and which - less.

"You scared me." She stated, small hands cupping Erwin's cheeks gingerly as her legs locked around his waist at the ankles. She didn't intend on letting him go anytime soon. He chuckled sweetly and she felt her heart melt.

"I apologise for that." He hummed as she pecked his lips and stared into his eyes with adoration. She didn't want to lose him, ever.

"Important thing is you're back." She smiled and he, although tired, smiled right back. She loved that smile.

[VIII]

Eighth was the time she caught him pulling a fourth all-nighter in a row. He was in his office and he'd ever so confidently lied to her, saying that he'd come to bed. That had been about three hours ago. (Y/N) rouse from the bed in the dark and saw a thin line of dim light sneak into the room from under the door that parted Erwin's office from his quarters. She stood and stretched, and her spine popped gratefully in response before she went to the door and opened it.

Erwin's eyes didn't stray from the papers he was reading. She also stayed silent, making her way through the office and out of the door. Maybe after the door closed behind her back he looked up. She made her way down the cold hallways with bare feet before arriving at the kitchen. She made herself a cup of tea and for Erwin, she prepared some coffee. On her way out she saw Levi go in. Once he saw the cups in her hands and she saw the tired expression on his face they nodded at each other knowingly and didn't spare the other another glance.

(Y/N) went back to Erwin's office and presented him with the cup.

"You could've asked for my assistance." She stated casually as he wrote. He shook his head lightly.

"This is confidential."

"Is there nobody else you could ask?"

"Everybody has something to do. This is what I have to handle." He stated seriously before glancing up at her briefly. "You should go to bed."

"I'm afraid I'm so angry I'll have to refuse." She settled on the couch with her tea in hand as he snorted and kept writing. She observed his big hands and the blue in his eyes. She watched his eyelashes create a half-moon shadow on his cheekbones. She admired the way his hair was always in place. Her eyes traced his nose and trailed over the lines of his lips. It would've been very nice if she could just distract him somehow but she knew he wouldn't let it happen unless he had little to no work left or he was too tired to handle any more of it.

She knew she couldn't help so she just sat there silently, pondering her feelings as her eyes slid over every part of him. At one point his fingers stopped in their tracks and let the pen drop from them. He picked up another paper and started reading it from the top, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand. She could see he was tired, judging by the yawn he let out a few seconds later. She knew there was no way she could force him into going to sleep - his thoughts would torture him either way.

Then his eyes were on hers. First, it was just a flicker that she barely noticed in her daze, but then Erwin looked at her and left the paper back on the desk. He weakly gestured for her to approach him. She didn't know how long she'd sat there but judging by the way her legs had gotten numb when she got up she understood it had to have been more than half an hour.

"Sleep?" She questioned hopefully, making him shake his head with a weak smile. He took her hand in his and tugged her closer. She understood what he wanted, so she sat in his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. "You need sleep, Erwin." She reminded softly when his head dipped forward and his lips pressed against her bare shoulder. She smiled at the contact while running her fingers through his hair. Even with all that pomade he used it was still soft and pleasant to the touch.

"Just let me rest for a bit like this." He mumbled, lips still pressed against her shoulder. She sighed before a small 'sure' slipped out of her mouth and she made herself comfortable in his lap. Erwin left lazy kisses along the length of her neck before snuggling his face into the crook of it and breathing in. At the beginning, she thought it was so he could make sure she was there, but with time she came to realise it was because he wanted to remember. Etch her scent into his brain so he never got to forget.

(Y/N) kissed the top of his head and felt his hands squeeze her waist. Big and warm, that was what Erwin was. He also deserved a lot better than her. But, she thought, for now, she wouldn't complain. At one point Erwin faced her - messy hair, soft blue eyes and a kind smile, and she swore she could melt. The bit of paperwork the blond commander did before she sat in his lap was the last of paperwork he got to complete that night and the next morning when they both woke up in the chair behind his desk (Y/N) could only chuckle as Erwin scolded himself and groaned in alleged exasperation.

[IX]

The ninth time, no doubt, came when he told her that. It was a calm afternoon, no arguments, no incidents, no nothing. Most cadets had left because it was their day off and they wanted to visit their families. The little who stayed were in the mess hall. Most superiors stayed. Levi, Hanji, Mike and Erwin all did, along with (Y/N) herself. Lunch had passed and Erwin had decided to go into town with (Y/N). Maybe on another date, she secretly hoped, but she knew he'd probably shop and she'd just enjoy being in town for the most part.

Everything was great until her ex-husband showed up, along with her parents. She could only snort at the sight because he was the perfect son they'd always wanted. More than they wanted her for sure. Erwin had entered a shop he obviously needed something from and she'd been left outside. She hadn't minded it, but now it was different. She pursed her lips and attempted to turn away but her mother had already seen her.

There was glaring and frowning and the usual amount of condescension, but before things could get ugly Erwin exited the shop and put a warm hand to her shoulder. (Y/N) could see Allan's whole face twitch in annoyance.

"What a Prince Charming you've found for yourself, (Y/N). I didn't expect a slut like you would be anywhere but a ditch after I threw you out." Her ex-husband sneered, making Erwin glare as she bit her tongue spitefully, in an attempt to keep the words in. "Have you nothing to say for yourself?" He taunted, making her snort. Erwin must've known what was coming because he was already smirking.

"I'm sorry, Allan, but I don't feel the need to humour your pathetic way of trying to make me feel bad. I'm tolerating you only because of the fact that if I don't you're going to be the one ending up in a ditch and I don't really want human blood on Erwin's hands. As my Prince Charming, he feels really obligated to slay the dragon if I deem it needed." The blond by her side smiled affirmatively, making Allan's face twitch again. She knew it was a bluff that wouldn't get called while also doubting it was an actual bluff. She hadn't seen Erwin in action but she could bet he could knock out somebody with no experience in combat with a simple punch and that would be more than enough to teach Stevenson a lesson.

"We have to go, (Y/N). We're late." Erwin tugged her along as she frowned up at him, confused. Her ex-husband and parents were left behind, fuming and ever so slightly embarrassed.

"Late?" She echoed, making Erwin sigh in disappointment. She wondrously eyed the genuinely sad expression on his face with growing worry. They stood in front of the stables and Erwin pulled out a small velvet box from the pocket of his uniform jacket, showing her the ring inside. Her mouth gaped.

"Yes, I was supposed to propose to you five minutes ago. I'm afraid we've already arrived at the part where you say 'yes' and kiss me." The explanation ended with a charming smile for Erwin and a slack jaw for (Y/N).

"You're not serious." She stated in disbelief.

"Only if you don't want me to be. Then the ring is a present and I stay the Prince Charming who loves you." The blond's confidence was astounding, but so was the gesture he was performing. She could start crying in the middle of the street and she wouldn't care. The meaning of his last words reached her subsequently just as she was about to open her mouth. All of a sudden there was no oxygen and Erwin's eyes had managed to hypnotise her.

"I say it plays the role of an engagement ring." She said in the end after being able to take a breath. He smiled and slipped the ring on her finger.

"That's technically a 'yes', you know." Erwin seemed smug and she couldn't stop staring at his face. He was so handsome. So important. So special and unique. Hers.

"I know." She was grinning.

[X]

The tenth time was a constant struggle where the opposition just couldn't win. She had to say it, she told herself continuously after the 'engagement'. A week later she still hadn't. And then she caught Erwin sitting by himself, not in his office like Hanji or in the mess hall like Levi, but on the steps of the HQ in the middle of the night. She'd tapped his shoulder and when he'd turned around to face her, she'd been mesmerized by the lines of his face in the moonlight.

"Don't stay too long. It's cold out here." She warned, making him nod. She stood at his side for two minutes before taking a seat next to him and following his gaze to the stars in the sky. Some were vivid, some were little and plain and some had just the right amount of sheen to be noticed fast yet not immediately. She felt like she was observing the night sky for the first time in her life.

The ring on her finger was heavy but not in an unpleasant way. It reminded her of the way she now belonged somewhere. With somebody. She stared up at the sky and wished she could stay this calm forever. That she could stay with Erwin forever. She knew that would also come to an end, but the optimist in her told her it wouldn't be in a tragic way. Erwin was a good man, a capable soldier and a person who deserved all the best. The universe would do a lot not to refuse him that at least. A little bit of the happiness he deserved.

A few minutes later she noticed the blond was looking at her, not the stars. She faced him and smiled. He was silent. Maybe this was the right moment, she told herself. She could do it now, she was brave enough.

"Erwin," she started hesitantly, immediately drawing in his focus, "I..." She found herself incapable of proceeding as planned. "I want to be with you." His gaze softened as she grasped his hand. "You keep telling me you'll disappoint me but you could never ever do that. You tell me you'll probably leave me early, but I say damn that. You'll keep coming back and I'll wait. I'll wait as long as needed."

"You said all that but still can't force out that last bit, can you?" He chuckled and she pouted, knowing he knew what she'd been meaning to say in the beginning.

"I can. Because I love you."

The sound of his chuckle halted and he stared into her eyes wondrously, not believing her words. The opposition had won. Then his face relaxed and he was smiling again.

"I know you can. You can do everything you want to." They'd had this type of moment so many times she couldn't keep track anymore, but this one was especially important because it was the first time in her life when she said 'I love you' to somebody and meant it. Erwin's eyes were beautiful and the flags in her head were still white and hopelessly waiting to be raised. His eyes saw right through her, all the way to the intertwined thoughts and the line connecting all the dots. They had from the very first moment.

"I adore your eyes." She shared bluntly, not minding the way in which he would react. He huffed and gave her a knowing smile.

"I've known that for quite some time." He shared in return, making her redden as he leaned down and kissed her forehead. When she looked into his eyes again the tenth time came - her heart skipped another beat. Her smile broadened the more Erwin kept looking at her. She counted mentally and the number ten sounded in her mind before her focus strayed to the stars in the sky again. She stared up at them, relishing in the feeling of Erwin's warm hold on her hand and the sensation of his beautiful eyes on her visage, figuring out the thoughts in her head.

Ten times in total did Erwin Smith make her heart skip a beat. But she'd keep counting in hopes that they grew; in hopes that he'd keep doing it until they grew old and grey together; in hopes that he'd do it every day as to prove he was there, and to make her remember him and every moment they'd spent in each other's presence. (Y/N) would keep counting, even when they became a hundred or a thousand or a million, or a number she no longer knew how to pronounce.

#erwin smith #erwin smith x reader #reader insert #snk fanfic #erwin smith fanfic #babessssss this is 10k words and one of the only two erwin fanfics i've ever written #i love our commander but i just cannot for the life of me write him properly #soooo #yeah #get this (probs) ooc stuff and enjoy?#it kind of has plot you know

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beyond-the-mirror · 3 years

Text

Music of the Night (V x Reader)

Chapter 7 is finally here! As I have mentioned a couple posts ago I am going to focus solely on this story for the time being. I will try my best to update at least once per week so stay tuned.

Warnings: A little angst in a few parts.

Tagging: @thedyingmoon @minteyeddemon @vampiregirl1797

If you wish to be tagged in this story let me know in the comments.

………………….

Chapter 7: Nightingale in the Cage

“So Bishop, would you mind explaining to us the reason you decided to become a patron for the Opera house?”

“Oh not at all.” Sanctus took a deep breath before speaking again. “As you may have heard in the local news, an estranged brother of mine passed away some time ago, may his soul rest in peace. Days later I received a visit from his lawyer, apparently he had accumulated quite the fortune and his testament determined that I would be the sole heir of all his possessions and shares.” The Bishop made a brief pause, the death of his brother still weighing down his heart. “I actually have no need for such a large sum of money, which is why I only kept a modest enough amount for me and decided to donate the rest in favor of the conservation of the arts.”

“A rather noble cause indeed Bishop, our sincerest apologies for your loss.” Monsieur Andre added.

“Thank you for your condolences. All my life I’ve considered myself to be an admirer of the fine arts. There’s nothing I wouldn’t love more than to finance Fortuna’s famous Opera House and support the careers of its many skilled artists.”

“And we shall be forever grateful for your patronage bishop.” Monsieur Firmin mentioned before lifting his champagne glass. “Let’s have a toast for the future of Fortuna’s Opera House.”

“For the future of this new society.” Raoul finished before the men raised their glasses together in glee. The vicomte, however, seemed to have a sense of sadness in his eyes that he hid all too well from everybody. How he wished to spend more time with you, but didn’t find you at the party.

Maybe you were too exhausted to attend and went home instead? Whatever it was, he wished you were okay.

………………….

‘The newest play from Fortuna’s Theatre Company, Hannibal, has been critically acclaimed by specialized press, scoring an impressive average of 4.6 out of 5 stars’

‘The exquisite acting and choreography are to be praised. However, its most prominent figure is the miraculous voice of the main singer, who has replaced iconic soprano Carlotta Guidicelli as the protagonist.’

‘Step down Carlotta! A new queen has arrived and the spotlight is all hers!’

‘In a shocking turn of events, Signora Carlotta Guidicelli, believed to be the company's successor to legendary soprano Kyrie Eleison, has been overshadowed by a new rising talent. A humble fortunian songstress by the name of (Y/N) (Y/L/N).’

‘(Y/N) (Y/L/N). The break-through songstress that has captivated the audience’s hearts. Is this the birth of a brand new star?’

Reviews, articles and blog posts about the company’s new soprano spread around the internet like wildfire, every single one focusing on the same subject: The mysterious soprano that took Fortuna by surprise and dethroned 'La Carlota’ herself.

The girl had become the theatre’s own Venus and Aphrodite, a muse that inspired all the souls touched by her melodious voice. A nightingale turned human, an angel descended to Earth.

But as her performances continued and her fame grew, a few observant enough would take notice of certain… details regarding her.

The truth behind this? A sinister shadow was tormenting the theatre’s beloved angel, one that threatened to consume not only her, but everything around.

………………….

“I refuse to accept this!” Carlotta stomped her heel on the marbled floor of her lavish bedroom, taking a sip from the almost full glass of wine in her hand.

Ever since that fiasco when she stormed out of the theatre during the rehearsals for ‘Hannibal’, the soprano’s life seemingly started turning for the worse, all because of that girl that once dared to collide with her during rehearsal. She had insisted the dancer had done so on purpose, envious of her great talent.

And now it turns out that dancer is the same one that took her role as the main protagonist! Carlotta felt offended by such a decision, she was a professional while that girl was just a simple amateur

Still, she had to admit this (Y/N) had a gifted voice. What she could not explain is how she managed to perfect her skill to such a high level if she claimed to be an inexperienced singer? As talented as one could be, it takes years of work and practice to master one’s craft, the only explanation she could come up with was that the girl had to have a special tutor, and an exceptional one at that.

But who?

Realizing her glass was already empty, Carlotta hurried to refill it again. She had believed that with Kyrie gone to Broadway, she now had the stage clear for herself to finally shine above everyone else, after all, the only voice above Signora Carlotta could only be that of Fortuna’s legendary songstress herself.

Such hopes were now broken. She had a new competitor, one that was already stealing the spotlights.

As she turned to the broadcast of the company’s most recent play, she huffed when the camera focused on the new main singer. The audience had fallen right into her trap, and now she had them all wrapped around her lithe finger.

“I don’t know what they see in her, she’s nothing special and she’s not that pretty. Especially with those dark circles under her eyes, does she even sleep? Careful girl, you are already losing your youth.” Carlotta snorted before downing her glass of wine.

………………….

“Vicomte Raoul! Bishop Sanctus! We weren’t quite expecting your visit to our Opera House. What can we do for you, gentlemen?”

Messieurs Andre and Firmin almost tripped over their own feet as they hurried to attend the Opera House’s important benefactors. Raoul managed to hide his laughter at their eagerness, while Sanctus simply offered the two a gentle smile.

“Do not worry for us, messieurs. This fine theatre holds so many precious memories of my youth, so I thought it appropriate to drop by and watch the rehearsals take place if you don’t mind us.”

“Oh, not at all Bishop! This way please.”

As the four men approached the hall, a melodious voice resonated through the walls.

“Ah! You are in luck. Our lead singer seems to be on stage right now practicing one of her numbers.” Firmin noted just as he opened the door to the main hall.

Madame Trish was supervising as usual, you stood at the stage performing an aria while Monsieur Reyer directed your voice through the song’s notes. As he took a seat near the stage next to Sanctus, Raoul was mesmerized by your singing figure, the passion and dedication you imprinted on your work palpable and strong enough to touch the hearts of others.

“An utter beauty, isn’t she?” The elder’s voice snapped him out of his trance. As he turned to face Sanctus, he noticed the soft smile and knowing look in his eyes. He gulped, were his feelings that obvious? Then again, Sanctus has seen and learned a lot during the many years of his long life, wisdom comes with age after all.

“Ah! Young love! Perhaps the purest and most innocent of them all.” The bishop gave a hearty chuckle. “Miss (Y/N) is definitely special. Her voice alone holds so much power, enough to make the entire audience bow to her, and yet she still remains humble and authentic.”

Raoul turned his attention back to the stage where you were now conversing with Trish and Reyer about your routine during the number. The vicomte could see what Sanctus meant, you weren’t arrogant or prideful like Carlotta, but rather attentive and open to the feedback and mentoring offered to you.

A smile grazed his lips. He had just met you and already you were taking over his heart and mind.

Still as he observed you going through the song one more time, there was something off that caught his eye. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there. The heave of your chest whenever you ended a verse, the slight trembles of your feet whenever they moved along the lines marked on the stage by Trish.

You looked… tired? Exhausted, perhaps? No... more like detached.

But you continued the rehearsal with no trouble. Maybe your sudden growing popularity was already taking its toll on you, as well as all the performances you had to do at the theatre. For anyone without experience, such exhaustion is understandable.

In the seat next to him, Bishop Sanctus was also studying you. However, his expression seemed more preoccupied than that of the vicomte. He too had noticed some kind of dark aura looming around you, and he pondered what this could mean for the Opera House’s future, and for his plans too.

………………….

petite.aerette I can’t believe I finally got to watch #Hannibal. So happy to know the Opera House is on the rise once again. #FortunaOperaHouse #theatre #musical

alya_hyacinth You saw it live? Girl, I’m jealous!

dramaqueen101 Aaah I was there too! I wish you told me you were going, we could have gone together and have our seats next to each other.

petite.aerette Sorry! Mom surprised me with our tickets that same morning. Did you see that new singer everyone is talking about? She is awesome! I already love her voice and acting!

dramaqueen101 I know right?! In fact I caught a glimpse of her after the play when she retired to her dressing room. I wanted to go talk to her but it was too crowded and she seemed to be in a rush. However I noticed she looked a bit tired? As if she hadn’t been getting enough sleep.

………………….

Free time had become a luxury for Nico. There was always something to fix, something to supervise, something to check. Whatever breaks she would get, she welcomed them with open arms and relaxed as much as she could before it was back to work again.

It was in one of these breaks when she ran into you, what better way to enjoy some free time than with a dear friend?

But as she approached your figure, Nico took notice of your appearance. Your skin was now as pale as a ghost, your eyes were heavy with sleepiness and dark circles framing them. You looked as if you were about to collapse at any given moment.

“Hey, you alright sugarcube?” Nico’s hands went to your arms by instinct, just in case you were feeling sick and you needed to be rushed to the infirmary. But with a small smile, you tried to ease her worries.

“Couldn’t get much sleep last night, that’s all.”

“Uh huh…” Nico was many things, highly perceptive was one of those. Many have found out the hard way that she was not an easy one to fool. Of course, it was no surprise that she could see right through your words. “Come. Let’s get you some warm tea.”

Stern and maybe a bit harsh, but caring when the situation called for it. That was Nicoletta Goldstein for you. One of the most surprising things about her is that she made the best tea in the world according to the people working at the theatre.

“This should ease you a bit, honey. Careful, it’s still hot.” As she handed you the small cup, she looked at you with worry in her eyes but didn’t say anything. Instead she waited for you to open up and tell her what was wrong.

You could already picture the almost dead look you must have had. With slightly shaky hands you held onto the porcelain cup, raising it to your lips and gently blowing the steam to cool it down a bit. As a warm earthy flavor filled your taste buds, your body could finally ease up and relax even if just for a little while, granting you a moment of much needed peace.

Still, you didn’t find it in yourself to tell her.

Luckily for you, Nico knew better than to keep insisting. She figured that whatever was worrying you, you weren’t ready to talk about it yet. Nonetheless, she stayed right by your side in a comfortable silence with a cup of tea of her own.

It was a nice and peaceful moment, at least until she was called to check on one of the moving stage props.

And so she excused herself, but not before reminding you that you could always count on her for anything.

What Nico didn’t know, however, was the reason for your silence.

You didn’t tell her because something was forcing you to.

………………….

Days became weeks. Weeks became months. And soon enough, time itself began to blur.

Ever since that night at his sanctuary, everything felt… off.

You had woken up in your bed, feeling dazed and lightheaded, perhaps the effects of the turmoil from the previous night.

V. The first thing on your mind as soon as you recovered your consciousness was him.

You wanted, no, needed to find him and get some answers. Why did he disappear so many years ago? Why was he hiding his true identity from you?

… What were those black markings scarring his face?

There was just one problem, you didn’t know where exactly was his sanctuary located. The secret passage behind the mirror in your dressing room came to mind, but in order to navigate the underground canals you needed a boat, not to mention that it was easy to get lost in there. Maybe you could ask the authorities for help, but how could you explain your story and make them believe you?

You made your decision on the way to the Opera House. You would start by telling Nico for the moment, you trusted her enough and she often gave the best advice on any matter.

But the moment you spotted her in the distance and tried to approach her, something strange happened.

An unseen force lodged itself in your chest, holding your voice and your heart in a vice grip that burned through your entire body. All the air in your lungs escaped you, and the feeling of daze you felt that morning returned in full force. You tried to scream, call for help, but no sound would come out of your lips. All words died as soon as they left your vocal chords.

You watched Nico leaving after someone required her assistance, and as soon as she disappeared from your line of sight, the pain stopped. As sudden as it had arrived.

You remained frozen in your place, goosebumps raised on your flesh. The moment some sensation came back to your legs, you ran away.

The day continued with relative normalcy, but your mind remained perturbed. And hours later, just as all the scheduled performances had ended for the day, you headed for your dressing room.

Once inside, the mirror opened, and everything went black.

When you opened your eyes, it was already morning the next day. Once again you woke in your bed, feeling as dazed and lightheaded as the day before. But the feeling didn’t go away, and with everyday that passed, it only became worse.

Strangely enough, your performances never faltered once despite the unknown illness weighing you down, almost as if you were doing everything automatically, like a machine following its program. You were thankful for this apparent ability to keep it together, but soon you started feeling detached. It reached a point when you could no longer feel your own body, or the melodic notes leaving your lips. You were no longer living, but rather watching your life unfold itself without any input of your own.

Many times you made an attempt to tell someone, anyone, about this; but you found that every single time you were about to do so, that terrible pain would return until you desisted. Soon, you were conditioned to stay quiet.

One day Nico began noticing your predicament, but by then that obscure force had you under its control already. She was right there, concerned and willing to help. And yet you didn’t dare to speak up.

Panic often filled your mind, hopelessness flooded your soul. You prayed and prayed for this nightmare to stop.

After another successful performance, the last one for the day, you found yourself inside the main dressing room as usual.

And as usual, the mirror opened, letting out the hidden darkness that haunted the Opera House behind everyone’s backs.

………………….

Poor unfortunate Joseph Buquet.

Ever since that incident with the falling curtain, Nico had him double checking pretty much everything. Every rope, pulley and mechanism had to be meticulously examined in order to prevent another incident like that from happening again. Now he understood why it was such an important and critical matter, the least he wanted was for anybody to be harmed due to a malfunction after all, but his own anxiety over making a mistake and causing another accident was already getting him. The poor man would triple- no, cuadruple check every single detail in an almost paranoid way. Not a single nook or cranny would be left unattended by this dedicated worker.

So it was no surprise that today was especially bad for the nervous Mr. Buquet, for his trusty utility belt had been misplaced, making him search the whole building for his precious tools.

Only after finding his utility belt did Buquet allow himself to feel relieved, a heavy burden lifting off his tired shoulders. He was making his way back to the fly floor when the sound of hurried steps nearby reached his ears, as he turned at a corner he caught a glimpse of you closing the door to your dressing room shut. Noticing the way you entered the room in such a haste, he worried something might have happened to you. Maybe you were feeling sick and needed to rest? These days you had been looking paler than usual, and the man had to admit that seeing you in your current lamentable state tugged at his heartstrings.

Walking to your door, Buquet politely knocked at the wooden surface “Miss (Y/N), is everything alright?” But no answer came back.

He knocked again, this time a bit louder. “Miss (Y/N), are you there?” Again, no answer.

Now he was getting genuinely concerned. He even pressed his ear to the door in an attempt to hear whatever was happening inside, but he found only silence.

“Miss (Y/N) I’m opening the door right now!” Buquet immediately took hold of the knob and slowly cracked it open, merely peeking inside just in case you needed some privacy after all.

The sight that greeted him sent chills to his very bones.

A tall shadowy figure towered at the back of the room, its arms wrapped around your unconscious body in a seemingly possessive manner. Like a ghost, it moved towards the mirror and disappeared with you in its arms.

Buquet stood frozen as his mind tried to process what just happened before him.

He had heard the stories, rumors about an entity that haunted the Opera House. Some workers would mention seeing shadows through the corners of their eyes, others would claim that low growling noises could be heard at the hallways when they were empty enough, and a few would tell how they found strange iridescent blue feathers in the most bizarre locations inside the premises.

His mind pictured the heavy curtain that mysteriously fell on Carlotta. Then, the strange Box Four that always remained unoccupied despite the concierge’s claims about hearing a voice coming from inside.

They called it different names. A poltergeist, a monster, a demon… a Phantom…

But this time they hadn’t moved a prop or taken a simple object with them.

This time, they had taken a person.

………………….

Locked inside one of the restrooms designated for the staff, Mr. Buquet did his best to calm himself down. He had just witnessed the kidnapping of a promising young woman by the hands of an… an entity.

His hands flew to his hair in panic. What could he do? Nobody would believe a phantom had spirited away the company’s Prima Donna!

He… he had to have been hallucinating! Yes, that had to be it. For years the staff has accused the Phantom for all the minor inconveniences that often sabotaged rehearsals and productions, but this was an entirely different story, a songstress was just kidnapped for Lord Sparda’s sake! Urban legends or not, the supposed Phantom had never gone to these extremes before.

Splashing some cold water on his tired face one last time, Buquet finally exited the restroom and made his way back home, all the while reassuring himself that what he had witnessed couldn’t have been real.

‘Tomorrow Miss (Y/N) is gonna come to work as always. Nothing bad happened to her. Right now she is at home, resting on her bed.’ He would repeat himself over and over.

And the next day, Buquet got his much needed relief when he saw you rehearsing at the stage as if nothing had transcurred the night before. He almost let out an euphoric laugh when he saw you safe and sound and that he had been anxious for nothing.

Concluding that the constant burnout was the cause of his hallucinations, Mr. Buquet requested for a few days off to recover, a request that Monsieur Andre approved without thinking twice.

Everything was going to be okay… or so thought Joseph Buquet.

Castings for a new production called ‘Il Muto’ were about to start in a few weeks, and everyone was about to witness how a single wrong decision could unleash the most gruesome of horrors.

#devil may cry #phantom of the opera #Vitale Sparda #dmc v #v x fem!reader #v x you #reader insert #fanfiction #writings from the mirror

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wookie92 · 3 years

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WHAT IT’S LIKE TO HAVE A MICROPENIS

My micropenis is approximately ½ to 1 inch long when flaccid and 3.3 inches long when fully erect. When fully erect it has an upward angle and a slight banana curve. It is also very thin (2.8), though proportional to the length. According to calculations my penis has a volume of 36.19 ml / 1.22 fl oz (us). Various studies suggest that the average American penis is 2.8–3.9 inches flaccid and around 4.7–6.3 inches when erect. According to online information at SIZEMEUP, in a room of 1000 guys only 1 would be shorter than me.

In an adult, the average stretched penile length is about 13.24 cm (5.21 in.). An adult micropenis is a stretched penile length of 9.32 cm (3.67 in.) or less. Growing up I remember reading that a micropenis was defined as any penis shorter than 2.8 inches in length. But have been subsequently given new information that slid me well under the 3.67 inch upper limit.

Where Do I Stand On The Penis Size Chart?

All this to say: the majority of average flaccid penises are longer than mine when I am erect.

I cannot say that I am deeply ashamed of my micropenis, but certainly I have experienced shame with regard to my size. I can say that I am extremely self aware of my penis size. This is largely because of the of things I hear women and women say about micropenis, and people’s reaction to my own micropenis.

I can only speak from personal experience, but the number of times I have heard women making fun of men for the size of their manhood is staggering. At one time, I actually overheard three or four of my colleagues at work all agreeing that "men with small dicks should be required to wear a warning sign."

In school, especially high school and as an undergraduate, I was subject to a lot of hazing and bullying that was directly connected to my having a micropenis. As a sophomore in high school I was depantsed at the pool by three bullies when I got an unwanted erection. They lifted me up and held my arms behind me to prevent me from covering my erection so the entire PE class present saw what happened. The coach had left the pool area when it happened. While the three boys were penalized, the damage was done any my “secret” became known through out the school before the end of the day. The teasing commenced immediately and was unrelenting. Even my mother got calls from some friends who had heard about the incident (and my condition). My mother reacted in anger at me that somehow I was responsible for the situation (and her subsequent embarrassment). No empathy there. I was depantsed three more times before I graduated from high school and it was clear to me why I was being targeted.

I was on the swim team and during a competition with a neighboring town, discovered that two of the players from that town recognized me as the guy with the “baby dick” which got shouted as I started my event. So, word had spread. I felt like a pariah.

Numerous scientific studies have suggested time and again that for the majority of women in the western world, tiny penises are simply undesirable. I am 28 and have had just only three sexual experiences (through personal choice) with women, two of which were very humiliating, to say the least.

In high school, my first consensual sexual encounter was with a boy named Billy. I was 13 and he was 15. He was interested in anal sex, and wanted to top me. I was willing to bottom despite the fact that he was very well endowed. He did tease me about my micropenis, but seemed to accept it. I was not prepared for how painful the experience of bottoming would be, but he continued to be interested in me, and treated me well (we even kissed) so I was willing to continue to have sex with him as a bottom. I fell in love. Then he disclosed to his homophobic older brother that we had been having sex and that put an end to our relationship. His brother let me know (rather violently) that I was to stay away from Billy or he would castrate and kill me. Billy, who had a black eye, never spoke to me again.

My first sexual encounter with a woman happened during my Junior year in high school. She was a sophomore and I was a Junior. When I undressed I could tell she was “shocked” even though she was a virgin and had never seen a man naked. She has seen photographs of naked men, and she had a brother in college. She was well pleased with my digital and oral skills, and actually squirted into my mouth (something I didn’t even know was a “thing” that might happen). Unfortunately when I attempted to penetrate her, my condom slipped off, and my orgasm was triggered prematurely as I was trying to thrust into her. She tried to push me off of her as I locked up and started squirting, and was furious that I had ejaculated into her vagina. She said she could feel me ejaculating. She got up and douched. I was too embarrassed to speak more than an apology. I helped pay for her “morning after” pill and discovered that she had disclosed the whole evening, including my premature ejaculation, and condom mishap, to her friends.

As a freshman in college I encountered a very attractive university student who seemed to be attracted to me. When I stripped, she stared at my micropenis, giggled, and put her hand to her mouth, muttering simply "OK" in a tone that suggested she was taken aback. When it came to actually performing, first I found that the condom wouldn’t stay on, but more frustratingly, my micropenis kept falling out every time I tried to penetrate her. She actually asked the traditional joke question, "Is it in?" mistaking my penis for my finger. I wanted to die. It was clear that she was getting nothing out of the experience. I genuinely tried my best to make her happy via oral sex, but she didn't orgasm or enjoy that either. I suspect her encounter with my penis through a wet blanket over the whole experience. When at last I finally thought I was making her content, she suddenly huffed in an annoyed way and got up, saying she needed to use the restroom. And that was the end of it.

I can only imagine the level of disappointment and frustration she must have felt. It must have been a horrendous experience for her.

I decided after that to become a master of cunnilingus so that any future women I encountered would be satisfied, if not by my penis, then my oral skills would more than make up for it. And I did master the art.

While in graduate school at the University of Texas in Austin, I met and married a girl. We had engaged in some sexual activity before our marriage, so she was aware of my micropenis. However our marriage was short lived when I discovered she had been having sex with my then best friend. When I confronted her with her lack of fidelity, she blamed my shortcomings as a lover and told me that my micropenis disgusted her.

Since that time I have mainly had sexual experiences with gay men, though I had a threesome with a woman that went very well.

Aside from personal experiences, the media doesn’t help my self-esteem either. Men with small penis are an ongoing source of amusement in TV shows and movies. I noticed that penis shaming was mostly reserved for villains and comic sidekicks who were never taken seriously. There are more TV shows with “little dick jokes” than shows that don’t have them. No shows make fun of women’s breast size, but targeting men with small penises as a source of humor seems to be socially acceptable. All that tells me that the writers don’t really care if men with small penises are offended or hurt.

The way the media treats the body-shaming of men compared to the body-shaming of women is wildly different. When Donald Trump makes questionable comments about the looks of women, he rightly causes outrage. Lists and videos decrying his sexist remarks have gone viral. Yet when a naked model of Trump with a micropenis was displayed in public in New York City, it was treated like a punch line rather than an attack. Some publications even called it a wonderful piece of art. Hundreds of Americans now have selfies of them laughing at Trump and his micropenis. We defend Heidi Cruz and Megyn Kelly, but where are the people defending small penises? I am no Trump supporter, but targeting him because of his small penis seems wrong.

GUYS WITH MICROPENISES KNOW THEY ARE NOT WELL-ENDOWED, THEY DON’T NEED REMINDING OF IT.

From my experience (having read hundreds of articles, forum posts, videos, and having spoken to hundreds of men and women online), it feels safe to say that the overwhelming majority of sexual partners aren't thrilled about the prospect of sex with micropenises. And if we don’t accept that these views are likely the majority, then we are never going to challenge this blatant discrimination.

I would like to ask people to think about this: If you are attracted to somebody enough to ask them to bed, and if the guy is kind to you, is it fair to write him off based on size alone?

So what do I plan to do about my love life?

Luckily I am bisexual and enjoy the company of men as well as women. I fear that straight men with the micropenis condition suffer worse shame than men in the gay community. Let me be clear, a great many gay men are “size queens” and I have been rejected by more than a few gay men, but now that so many men can meet on line I have been able to meet men who actually “prefer” men with small dicks and so they are not surprised by what I have to offer when we meet. Many of them enjoy SPH (Small Penis Humiliation), but in my life I have adapted to being the subject of humor and, in some cases, can even find that sexually arousing.

So the answer to that question is “nothing”. I try to focus my life on my work, my writing, working out, outdoors activities, sports, and other subjects that interest me. If I started to look for love, it would just make me feel down, and I already struggle with depression and anxiety secretly. I don’t need the humiliation and hurt that looking for love would bring me. Sure, everybody gets rejected, but usually for less hurtful reasons. As a bottom, many men don’t care how well I am hung. Instead they care about how I make them feel when they fuck me, and I have learned to be a power bottom.

Guys with micropenises know we are not well-endowed, we don’t need to be reminded of it. If I’m attracted to a sexual partner, then what they have in their pants doesn’t matter to me; I care more about what that partner has in his/her heart. My extreme self-consciousness about my body makes me feel like everyone else's opinion must be right, that there is something wrong with my size. I just wish people could look past it, so I could too. Because intellectually I know my size is just a variation.

I try to look at it this way. Not everyone is attracted to red hair, or freckles, or blue eyes, or black skin, or hairy chests. People are attracted to differing qualities. As long as I can find some people who are interested in the qualities I possess, and are also interested n me personally, than I am gratified.

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