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#if you don't feel comfortable with this or anything written in here feel free to let me know
toomuchracket · 2 days
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I can imagine bday! Matty just following girly atm because he doesn't have anything urgent to do so he just follows her like a lost puppy in his free time and asks her about work and tries everything so she pays attention to him
wait yeah because this is the first time he's properly been Off Work since you guys got together and he's just so happy that he gets to spend time with you doing literally whatever. like of course he's writing as and when, so are you, but most of the time he's just out here doing whatever you're doing lmao - prepping for your next book launch event with you (and buy that i mean you go shopping for new outfits and he literally BOLTS to the till to pay for your dress before you can, very "don't get mardy with me, sweetheart, i want to treat you" lol. i've written about him at your book launches before, and he's just so doting the whole time. he's also SO cute when you decide you want to visit some indie bookshops across london to sign some copies of the new book, driving you around and having a little wander in each shop and picking up books he knows you've been looking for for a while for you to take home. if he wasn't so utterly in love with you, you reckon the constant attention would be overwhelming - it still kinda is, in a good way, but you feel so comfortable and good about yourself and happy and in love that you really really like having matty around all the time. not least because he makes the best cuppa in the world and has a penchant for sleepy loving morning sex too lmao. sweet boy <3
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angelic-muse · 6 months
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unforgettable
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a/n: i couldn't not write anything for his special day, so enjoy, and happiest of birthdays to my silly mosshead man. this was written with both anime and opla zoro in mind so feel free to interpret it as either.
pairing: roronoa zoro x gn!reader
warnings: just fluff, not proofread
summary: it's your lover's birthday, and what better way to start the celebration than to stay awake and surprise him at midnight?
...that is, if you can stay awake.
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must stay awake... must stay awake.
the sentence replayed itself in your groggy head like a mantra, a broken record stuck on repeat, a toy train running in slow circles around your brain as you fought the urge to tip over the line between wakefulness and sleep.
zoro deserved more than that.
"my birthday? never really done anything for it," he'd grunted the day before after you'd brought it up. the swordsman had frowned, scratched his head. "kinda forgot it was tomorrow, actually."
and it was then that you decided to make this birthday — and all his next ones, for that matter — unforgettable.
so after some pleading with nami that then lead to careful rearrangement of night watch schedules (despite the crew's grumbling), zoro would be set to finish his shift at midnight — exactly midnight.
and what would he find when he returned to his room? you, of course, waiting for the moment he stepped through the door to shower him in love and birthday wishes, followed by a day of celebrations just for him.
well, that was your plan.
but the actual staying awake hadn't been part of it.
since your shift for night watch was the last one, just before sunrise, you were lucky enough to be able to sleep soundly all night till then. which meant you were not at all used to being awake at this time and your body was slowly but surely losing the fight to fall unconscious.
you yawned, blinking heavy eyelids as you turned to squint at the sky, the gentle moonlight washing the deck of the going merry in its milky glow. it wasn't quite yet at its highest point — still not midnight.
surely a little lay down before zoro returned couldn't hurt, right?
don't fall asleep, you promised yourself one last time as you settled into his own hammock, breathing in the lingering scent of him with a sigh. don't fall asleep...
zoro muttered angrily as he stomped across the ship back to his room, not bothering to soften the loud thumping of his boots against the planks, swords clanking noisily at his hip.
"serves 'em right if they wake up," he groused, "putting me up there at this time all of a sudden for no fuckin' reason—"
he cut short as he shoved into his room, raising a brow at the sight that met him as he rid himself of swords and shirt. there you were, curled up in his spot, sleeping soundly like a contented cat.
"the hell you doing in my hammock?" he grumbled under his breath, but zoro slid in beside you anyways, throwing an arm over your shoulders and folding the other behind his head. he didn't mind that you were here — he never did. sleeping beside you was nothing out of the ordinary anymore. he liked it, enjoyed the easy comfort and security that came with you tucked against his side; hearts beating in time, every breath shared.
it was right when zoro was beginning to drift off that he felt you stir awake. cracking open one eye, he watched as you sat up, blinking tiredly. "zo... zoro?"
"what got you up?" he murmured as you yawned and stretched your arms overheard. "m'here, get back to sleep." get back to cuddling me.
"the smell of a pirate who hasn't showered in a week," you joked groggily, rubbing at your eyes. then you froze. shit.
shit!
"no, i fell asleep!" you groaned, burying your face in your hands. how could you? you promised yourself you wouldn't, for him, and now... "fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck... i'm sorry." you peeked back up at him, lower lip stuck out.
zoro frowned. "huh? what the hell you apologising for?"
"i was meant to stay up," you said sadly. "to say happy birthday to you. at midnight. that's why i got nami to change your watch..."
rubbing a hand across his face, zoro sat up to look at you properly, blinking sleep away. you went to the trouble of getting his night watch changed and stayed up in his room just to say happy birthday to him? seriously?
he'd be surprised, but really, that was just the kind of stupid, endearing thing you'd do.
and so he laughed.
you blinked at him as his wide shoulders shook with mirth, head tossed back. an embarrassed warmth crept up your neck and you folded your arms, attempting to glare at him even as you fought to hold down a smile. "wh— it's not funny!"
"nah," he grinned at you as his laughter died down. "it's just cute. c'mere."
you yelped in half-protest as zoro grabbed your head to pull into his chest, laying back down with a sigh.
"you don't hafta... stay up until midnight or do shit like that just for me." he uttered after a moment of quiet, brushing his fingers through your hair. "you need your sleep, and i need mine. so just... just wait until morning next year, yeah?"
"i... okay," you sighed, trailing a finger across his chest, drawing mindless patterns over scarred, tawny skin, making him suppress a shiver. "i still have stuff planned for later, though."
"yeah? let's hear it."
"i'm not ruining the surprise, silly. but... i did get you some presents and convinced sanji to bake you a cake. among other things."
zoro snorted. "bet that shitty cook did it for you more than me."
"probably," you teased, tilting your head to look up at him. "don't get jealous that he might love me more than you, it's okay."
the swordsman scoffed, turning you both on your sides with a grunt. "maybe, but he'll never love you as much as i do."
you chuckled, tucking your head into the crook of his neck, inhaling his familiar scent; steel and sweat with an earthier undertone somewhere beneath. "i love you too, even though you still smell like you've never showered."
zoro barked out a laugh, tightening a thick arm around your waist to pull you further into him. "i'll take a shower for your birthday, how's that sound?"
you peered up at him and wrinkled your nose. he grinned.
"you're gross," you muttered with a smile even as you snuggled further into him. he kissed your forehead and you could feel his own smile against your skin.
"and you still love me."
"lucky you, huh?"
zoro exhaled softly, closing his eyes. "yeah, lucky me."
slowly, quiet draped itself over the two of you like the softest blanket, comforting and warm as the sounds of your breathing lulled each other to sleep after gentle whispers of goodnight and wishes of good dreams. and he rocked you in his arms, like how the gentle waves rocked you from below, mother nature's cradle for her sleeping children as they rested in an embrace so tightly woven with nothing but pure love not even the sharpest sword could ever hope to sever it.
and that morning, when zoro awoke to his dear lover smothering his face with kisses as they pulled him from his sleep with the promise of birthday gifts, he knew with clarity, such a deep, resounding clarity it made his heart ache—
that you, on this day and every other, were the greatest gift he could ever ask for.
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nia's ask box is open!
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vagabond-umlaut · 1 year
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gojo satoru x reader fic recs (I)
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‣ now that i've got loads of free time, thought why shouldn't i use it well by showing (few of) my fave authors their much well-deserved love, respect and attention? ^_^
‣ this is merely a list of works i've enjoyed reading. kindly heed the tags and warnings in each of them and consume content responsibly, at your own discretion. that being said, i own neither these fics nor the characters nor the above gif. enjoy reading! 🥰
⌀ all that is solid [series] by GrilledTandooriSmoke on ao3
one of the best series there is. period. the fluff, the angst, the drama, the humor, the romance, the friendship, the plot, the dialogues - everything is top-notch in this series, i'm telling you. bonus points for being narrated in both reader's and gojo's pov.
⌀ The King is But a Man [series] by Petrichorium on ao3 (@petrichorium on tumblr)
royal!gojo who's terribly in love with the reader x reader who's equally (but way more discreetly) in love with gojo. add to that, the trope of childhood sweethearts reunited as adults, excellent communication between the couple and a wonderfully-crafted world and dialogues - what more could you ask from a series?
⌀ Ten to None (Soulmate AU) (oneshot) by Oreosmama on ao3
a fic which i adore with every fibre of my being. i will not say anything more about this, except to request you to go read this. you'll love it. (especially the fantabulous ending. btw, did i already say how much i'm in love with how well-written this fic is?)
⌀ Scarred [oneshot] by cainis on ao3
one of the best angst-with-a-happy-ending fic there is. i wish i could give thousands of kudos for the heart-wrenchingly amazing way the author has portrayed gojo's character here.
⌀ Mother of otherness, Eat me [oneshot] by itsbaby on ao3
one of the most beautiful works i've read so far. told from yuuji's pov, it explores gojo and reader's relationship and its nuances in a way seldom done before. however, what stole the show for me, was the soft and sweet mother-son duo the reader and yuuji grow to be in this fic. i really love this one-of-a-kind masterpiece.
⌀ something sweet [oneshot] by heresan on ao3 (@pretty-toru on tumblr)
i love love love this fic. it's so fluffy, so funny, so cute, so heart-warming... just read this fic, people. you won't ever be disappointed by the dynamics reader and gojo have in this one. one of my all-time faves, tbh.
⌀ teen dad Gojo [series] by pantao on ao3 (@seravphs on tumblr)
a sweet and realistic depiction of reader and gojo being teenaged parents to young megumi, all the while they try to figure out their feelings for each other. a perfect mixture of fluff, angst, drama, slice-of-life and romance, imo. (also, the author's notes are pure gold. whatever you do, please don't miss reading them! :D)
⌀ To see those eyes I prize above mine own (twoshot) by koyama on ao3
if you wish to watch godlike!gojo willing to let go of his powers, out of guilt and immense, immense, protective love for the reader, this is the ideal fic for you. i'm in awe of the way the writer wrote gojo's complex persona and the way the sorcerer realized his feelings for the reader. (the second chapter's the cherry on the cake. it's so good!!!!)
⌀ keeping up with the fushigojos (series) by @augustinewrites on tumblr
fluff? A+; angst? A+; drama? A+; characterization & dialogues? A+; humour? A+++++. a sureshot way to end a long hectic tiring day on a happy note is to read this series. (my go-to comfort series, ngl. :])
⌀ CAT & DOG (oneshot) by @mimiriko on tumblr
an adorable fic of gojo being in love with the reader, who knows, yet doesn't really know, much about it. plus, the feline-like features of gojo are sooo cute... and this fic is sooo sweet... the story left me smiling when i finished reading it.
⌀ surely summer wasn't over yet [3 chapters] by 3rdgymbros on ao3
an amazing fic set against the backdrop of the hidden inventory arc. the portrayal of the characters and their dynamics is simply impeccable. despite my kind-of-dislike towards this particular arc of the manga, i really enjoyed reading this one.
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neonovember · 11 months
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Hello, uhm, so this MAY be an uncomfortable thing to request I’m not too sure. It’s totally totally okay if it is absolutely feel free to ignore this, but the way you write Carmen is so so comforting. I have this neighbor that lives downstairs from me, I’ve lived in my apartment for two years but the past 4 months with this guy has been hell. I live in the U.K. and the people that own the building and the police don’t view my situation as anything dangerous or serious, despite the fact I have made numerous complaints and even the other neighbors in my building have complained about him. But he targets me the most and bangs on my door at ungodly hours and threatens the most horrible stuff because I’m a woman living alone. I’m honestly terrified but unless he physically does something there’s nothing I can do. I’m sorry for the sob story but usually I always try and just picture Carmy as something comforting to help through this until I can be safe, would it be okay to request something like Carmen finding out about his gf losing sleep and constantly being terrified and deciding to take matters into his own hands, and demanding she moves in with him and helps pack her stuff because he will NOT stand for that shit (again totally 100% okay if you don’t feel comfortable responding)
oh my god anon, I'm so deeply sorry that you have to deal with such a shitty situation, and the fact that you have to wait to be physically attacked before the police can do anything? Fuck the justice system and fuck law enforcement. Don't every feel scared to send a request to make your day or week or fucking month better, it's why I'm here, and the fact that my writing can make you feel even a little better is the greatest gift i could ever ask for. God I just hope you're able to remain safe, call a friend or family to keep them posted in case anything happens, I'm so very sorry honey :(
Broken bones and soup
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carmen berzatto x reader
warnings: misogyny, violence, feral!carmen makes an appearence, angst, horrible neighbours, angst, teeth rotting fluff, carmy feeding you
w/c: 5.3k
a/n: this was hard to write, i really wanted to do it right by you anon, and when have i ever written carmen without him breaking someones face?
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The falling sun encapsulated the cerulean sky, exploding against the horizon in heated shades of orange, crimson and pink. The trail back to your apartment complex wasn’t long, but it gave enough time to bask in the warmth of evenings bathed in sunlight. It also conveniently enabled you to tell yourself you had gotten your sun for the day, rather than having to swallow pills you hated to swallow.
It was muscle memory however, your legs moved with the familiar comfort of the sidewalk, forgetting the stomach turning realisation of what had awaited you back at your apartment. 
It had been a couple months, four maybe 5, you didn’t really want to count the days having a violent neighbour moved in directly down your apartment. The other tenants who you've grown to know collectively bristled with the annoyance of a 30 something year old filling the usual peaceful nights with crashes and yells of broken plates and incoherent obscenities. 
When you had raised the issue to the landlord and even to the police, you had been shut down with a shrug of the shoulders. 
‘We can notice him with a noise complaint, but if he aint hurting anyone we can’t do much’. 
That had made you laugh a little then, before you had been close to bawling your eyes out and ripping out your hair. Sure he was loud, your neighbours from the other side of the apartment complex could attest to that, but it was so much more than loud fucking music, and somehow, you had bared the brunt of his violence. It was targeted, you knew it, and your legs began to shuffle at the thought of coming home to another violent outbursts at your door. 
You hadn't gotten any proper sleep for the past 4 months, waking up to loud banging at your door, and declarations of brutality he whispered through your keyhole. It was all empty threats, those men in clad uniform had told you when you woke up shaking with fear as he screamed taunts of murder from below, you had run out in your pyjamas and bunny slippers and they had told you they couldn't help you. 
There were not empty threats, and this wasn’t the hundreds of true crime shows you had binged, you felt it in your bones, you were a woman living with yourself for god sake, he was going to break down your door one day and hurt you, and you couldn't do anything about it. You felt paralysed by the helplessness of it, forcing yourself to stay up past 12, the burn of your tired eyes forced open by the blue light of your phone, in case he tried breaking in. You had begun to keep a bat near your bed, a knife in the drawer of your bedside, and you felt fucking insane. Noone had made a major problem out of it, and yet you felt like he was one bad day from a murderous rampage.
Carmen could tell something had been wearing on your shoulders, the way your eyes blinked slowly, and the syrup slow movements of your limbs when you had visited the Beef not long ago. You couldn't bear to tell him, your past relationships had taught you enough not to unload all your problems onto another person, but it had gotten bad. You had started getting notices of concern from your boss, asking if you were alright, telling you how your performance had been declining.
You had quickly shut down any looks of concern thrown at you, this was something you had to deal with yourself, you didn’t want anyone, especially another woman to be faced with the brunt of his violence. You guzzled caffeine and energy drinks like it was water, and your limbs jittered with the rush of adrenaline until the peak had dropped and you felt like your stomach was ripping itself apart.
You braced yourself as you turned the corner into your apartment complex, keeping your head down, and going through the carpack to avoid the hallway that was right next to his door. You felt your stomach drop, your keys pressed between your knuckles and you flickered your eyes up to the door of his apartment. You watched it like a hawk, ready to flee at any sign of opening, and when you had finally made it to the elevator, you breathed a sigh of relief like no other. The air suddenly fills your lungs once again.
Your phone buzzed in your jean pocket, and you reached out to grab it, the screen illuminated by Carmen’s text. You felt a tingle of glee shoot through you, biting back a smile at the thought of seeing him today.
“You still coming today for the family dinner?”
The beef had begun a sort of tradition, every last Friday of the month, they would close early and hold a sort of family dinner right out back near the tables and chairs. Everyone of the crew’s family and friends were invited to join, some bringing a plate or a drink or two. It was the highlight of the month, and you hadn't missed a Friday ever since Carmen and you had become something more than close friends.
You typed out a quick reply with a tongue in your cheek, as the elevator doors opened, you didn't look up right away, walking with your head down as you tucked your phone back into your pocket. It was a fault on your end, you should have looked up, at least then you could have braced yourself as your neighbour stood stationed near your door with a cheshire smile stretching ominously across his face. 
You wondered if you could run back into the elevator, but the doors had closed well before and you feared turning your back to him was an even worse fate. You walked towards him, plastering on a smile that didn't look even a little believable.
“Something I can do for you?” You ask, your voice heightened by a mix of fear and false confidence
“Hear you've been complaining about me” The man replies with a smile, his hair slicked back, the shadow of a badly shaven skin spiking up. His shirt reeks of sweat and stains of spilt takeaway and you have to take a tentative step back to escape the stench radiating off of him.
“Yeah, you might not realise it, but you have been a bit- uh loud, and the loud banging on my walls?” You prouch him, and his eyebrows rise in surprise, shaking his head with a laugh that horrified you.
“Am I scaring you?” The man replies 
You swallow as your eyes flicker to his burnt hazel ones, they stare down from above, almost mocking in the way they forced you to answer.
“Uh, uhm- well, a lot of us got work in the morning, and I can’t wake up if you're making a lot of noise during the night”
“Oh, is that right?” The man asks, scratching a hand across his jaw
“Well no one's been the one complaining but you” The man replies
“I don't think so many of us-”
“You saying I’m a liar??” The man suddenly shouts, and you can help yourself stepping back a distance quickly
The man watches the way you distance yourself away from him, his eyes flicker to the keys poking out from between your fingers and he bites back a laugh.
“So you are scared of me, liar.” The man spits out with venom, before stepping towards you, caging you to the wall as he whispers near your ear
“You think fucking keys are going to stop me? A little lady like you living here all by yourself?” The man digs his fingers into your sides, until you howl out and retch yourself away from him, you reach for your right side, holding the skin above your rib cage that had begun to swell and bruise.
“See how easy that was? A fucking pretzel in my hand” The man calls out with a smile, before walking back around the hallway corner with such ease and comfort that told you he knew the police wouldnt do shit.
Your hand shakes as you shove your key into your door, you have to hold your own hand to put it in, before shouldering your way through your door with wince, and dropping your bag and belongings to the floor.
You rush into your bathroom, undressing before your eyes flicker to your mirror, seeing the red rash of irritation and the start of a purple imprint of his claws shoved into the skin below your ribcage. You wince as you try to soothe it, the salty tears breaking down your waterline, you can't stop, the wretched sobs of your helplessness echoing off the bathroom walls.
You climb into the shower, sliding down to the bottom as the tears shake through you, you hug your knees to your chest, letting the warm water combine with your salty tears, so they become one, and you know longer now how terrified you are. You stay in the shower like this for a bit, letting the warmth and steam wiggle your body from its stone encapsulation.
You can hear the familiar jingle of your phone ringing from where you had haphazardly left it, and the memory of today's dinner comes rushing in. You had nearly forgotten, and whilst you were terrified to leave your home and go back into the hallway where it had happened, you couldn't let Carmen down.
So you had gotten up, in the same way you had fallen down, and tried to scrub away the smell of his day-old cigarettes and sweat until your skin burned, poking your head through a clean shirt and a skirt that hid the painful purple splotch that had begun to spread across your side.
Entering your quaint kitchen, you can’t stop your arm as it reaches for the brown liquid stored in that old glass bottle Sugar had told you was a century old. You didn't have a little liquid courage to make it past your goddamn threshold.
You downed it in a gulp, reaching for your bag and a pocket knife, just in case. The reality of that decision broke you a little, when did you start needing to armour yourself?
Your phone buzzed from its position edged between the living room couch, it was Carmen, again, telling you he was outside. Carmen had begun to ceremoniously show up to your apartment as the autumn had begun to bleed into the winter nights, and the sunlight had stretched until darkness hit by 5 in the afternoon. Any other time you would have chastised him till the point where he would stop, but now, with the reality of your neighbour, you felt a relief wash through your body at the thought of being close to him. You also don’t doubt he would have shown up anyway, ignoring your requests in the way he does when he thinks it's his responsibility.
You wouldnt say you had a lot of experience in relationships under your belt, but something spoke to you from within, carmen was something special, this was special, sacred in the way destiny was, and you shooke with the relentless fear of fucking it up. And scaring him away with your problems seemed to be on the very top of that list
You shake the thought from your head as you shut the door quietly, take a brisk pace as you walk but kind of run to the elevator. A neighbour you knew well stood near the doors, his dark auburn hair falling in front of his eyes, he nodded to you with a silent smile. He kept to himself most of the time, and you didn't know much about him, just that he always was tugging a sleeve down his left arm, but he always went out of his way to give you some sort of greeting.
The air between you was silent, as you were waiting for the ping of the elevator to drop to your door, and you heard a shuffling near you, your eyes watching the way he coughed and stared at you from the corner of your peripheral vision.
“Heard something out in the hallway, it wasn’t him again was it?” The man replied, concerned about lacing his features as his eyes seemed to be fixated on the way you leaned on one side of your body a little.
“Uh no, it’s- it’s alright, I guess it was my dues you know? Dealing with a shitty neighbour at least once” You reply with a tight smile, trying to poke fun at the very depressing thought.
The man nodded with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, your neighbours had known that he was loud, knew that you had dealt the worst of it being right above him, but they were clueless to his taunts and threats that he said into your door at night. You think the man next to you had an idea though, the way his eyes scanned anything like he was always assessing, always calculating the world around him. 
It was also because your neighbour was nowhere to be found whenever he was around, you whispered a prayer of thanks that he was taking the elevator down with you, with his sweatpants and top, it was like he knew, a silent nod of protection.
Before you could open your mouth to whisper a thanks, the doors of the elevator had opened, a tired mom and her two energetic kids passed between you both. It was funny, you could see yourself in her, the drag of dark circles and the hunch of her shoulders mirroring your own. 
You knew the very shakily painted on makeup did little to hide the exhaustion on your face and you rushed to enter the elevator to escape the thought. The motion of the elevator moving down nauseated you a little, churning your stomach in the way it always did with motion, but your apartment wasn’t big and soon enough the music of the elevator turned to a halt as the doors opened up to the ground floor.
You could see the headlights of Carmen's car through the automatic doors of your complex, and you gave your neighbour a smile before rushing to jump into the comfort of Carmen and his very, very warm car.
-- -
The car ride to the beef has been silent, just the syrupy beat of jazz from the car speakers and the burn of Carmen’s gaze searing a hole through you, you feared if you caught his eyes and the look in them the entire interaction today would tumble from your tongue.
You couldn’t ruin today, it was tradition, you had just begun to become folded into it. The joy of Tina calling your name for a hug, the talks about the new pastry ideas with Marcus, Sydney’s laughter, it soothes you like a balm, and you were sure the nausea crawling through your stomach would dissipate the second you entered.
But it didn’t, the beautiful lantern lights from outside the Beef glittered against the Chicago moonlight and the smell of Italian meatballs engulfed your senses and you still felt like you were being ripped apart from the inside.
You had said your hellos to everyone, biting back a yelp as Tina’s hand pressed against the bruise on your side, and nodding to Richie’s rambles whilst you felt outside of your own skin.
Your mind kept replaying the scene of him lunging st you, bristling your skin till goosebumps spread through, until your mind was exhausted from fear and well, fucking exhaustion and Carmen had to call your name too many times to rip you from your thoughts.
“Hey, you alright?” Carmen asks with that soft honey tone he keeps for you.
You nod with a smile, and Carmen’s eyes shift towards your plate untouched. It was your favourite, a twist on Osso Buco and yet it laid un moving, Carmen knew it, you did too, and you held back tears as Carmen simply nodded, not sure if he was overstepping his boundaries.
It was the first lick of the start of something, the both of you, the bloom of a companionship Carmen felt was destined, like it was seared into the sand years before you both had even come into existence. And Carmen was new to this, and that opened up a whole can of worms, he didn’t want to fuck it up, he didn’t want to think about fucking it up, but god did he always seem to fuck it up.
You reached across the table to grab the jar of water, your shirt riding up without you noticing. Tina’s eyes widen at the peek of a purple imprint from under your shirt and she has nearly drops her fucking fork
“Baby? What happened to your side?” Tina replies with concern, her voice is quiet but the tables loud boisterous conversations begin to slow down.
You tug your shirt down, and you burn with guilt like you had been caught with this big secret. Carmen immediately looks towards your side, his eyes scanning the way you since a little as your finger brushes against it.
“Nothing, uh um I fell” You don't even believe yourself
“That looks more than something you get tripping over your feet darling, did something happen?”
“What? What’s she saying honey? What did you see Tina?” Tina’s gaze flutters to Carmen, and there’s a pause like she’s assessing whether it was Carmen’s doing before the reality of who he is hits her. It was ingrained in every woman, and Carmen wouldn’t be an exception. Even for a second.
“Looks like someone’s goddam fist imprinted into her skin” 
The restaurant is completely quiet now, and your head falls to your uneaten plate of veal, they look towards you in concern hearing the end of Tina’s words.
Carmen lifts your shirt, and you don’t stop him, the reality of your attack is shown right there in front of him, the imprint of a large hand bruising purple and blue.
Carmen’s eyes burn into the skin, his fists shaking as he remains silent, the rest of the family look on in horror, whispers of “holy fuck?” and eyes seeing the way Carmen practically vibrates, like he’s a second away from exploding.
“..Who did this?”
“It was my fault- I”
“Who did this baby? Who hurt you?” Carmen replies with an exhaled murmur.
“I’m, uh, Uhm- he- oh Carmen” You can’t get the words out, they’re stuck in your throat and you can’t get them out. You feel trapped, your body is sweating like you��re caged, like you're wading through a current and you're losing yourself to the weight of it, your breakdown on display for the whole world to see.
You blink back tears as Carmen tilts your chin to face him, and the look on his face, the look of distraught and fear that blossoms across his features un tetheres the tightly wrapped self control you had formed.
And Carmen scoops you up into his arms so that the entire family doesn’t have to see you break into his shoulder.
His soothing words are like a balm to your distress and he walks you, bridal style to the first aid cabinet, sitting you down on the counter, wiping away your tears as his fingers shake and his throat bobs with a tight swallow. He hastily tugs your shirt, kissing back the howls of pain as he whispers “I know, I know baby girl, I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry.”
His soft fingers press gently against the bruise as he rubs a heating ointment across it, he wraps a warm compress around it as bandage and his eyes are avoiding your own as he focuses his fingers on your skin.
“Carmen?” You whisper, the hiccups of tears resounding from your throat, Carmen reaches for a painkiller, placing it in your palm with a whisper of affirmation, he gently tips your head back as he pours water into your mouth, and you swallow it quickly, before looking back at him.
“Carmen? Please” You reply, had you done it, had you ruined everything?
“I can’t look at you because I fear I might break, and- and I can’t right now okay darling? I have to find, I have to find who did this, and I need to make it right, hm? I need to make sure your safe because god my heart is outside of my chest and I can’t feel anything but fear” Carmen replies with a tight low voice, his fists shake as he pressed them into the counter beside your thighs, but he looks up to meet your gaze anyway, and he smiles tightly as the tears stream down.
“Oh Carmen, this isn't on you, you couldn't have possibly known” You reply, wiping a hand across his cheeks.
“How can you say that? I am your, I am meant to protect you, and you, you come limping in without me noticing, fucking Tina saw it before I could, and i hate myself for it” Carmen replies, his cerulean blues shining bright against the shine of tears.
“Who did this, someone at work? A guy on the street?” Carmen replies and you flick away from his gaze, hand falling to your lap as your tongue burns with the desire to just say it all.
“You've got to tell me baby girl, you have to know I've got to make it right, I won’t sleep till I do. '' Carmen replies with a pained cry, like his heart is breaking from the thought of letting this go un avenged. And it's the tortured look on his face, it's the shake of his limbs like he wants to destroy and burn the entire world around him till he finds whoever has done this that uncurls your tongue and lets everything out in the open.
“What? This has been going on for months? Why didn’t you tell me?” Carmen replies, his thumb rubbing soft circles across your thigh.
“Didn’t want to scare you away Carmen, i love-i I like you a lot, more than I have anyone and I didn't want to fuck it up and unload all my problems onto you like a dumpster” You reply, and it sounds stupid when you say it out loud, and when Carmen looks up at you in disbelieved confusion.
“Huh? Oh sweet girl, I’m meant to help you bear it all, that’s why I'm here, and the idea of you thinking I'll love you any less, that I won't help you because of something like this haunts me. I’m meant to protect you yeah? That’s my fucking job, and I’ve failed it” Carmen replies with a grunt.
“No one has said anything like that to me” You say, eyes looking up to him, you weren't shocked, but you weren't, were not shocked, never had you experienced this, this burning adoration for another person, this soft warmth that burst through you at the sound of Carmen's voice promising his devotion, promising his unyielding protection. It armoured you more than a pocket knife ever could.
Carmen presses a soft kiss to your head, before shuffling around the kitchen, walking back into the dining tables, hushing out replies of ‘she's okay’ before coming back in with your things under his arm.
“What are you doing?” You reply in question, as he slowly picks you up with an arm, and gently places you back down. His eyes are constantly flickering to your side, like he’s torturing himself with the image of the first time he saw the horrific bruise across your side.
He had never felt true fear until then, the shatter of his heart beneath his breast as he realises you had gotten hurt and he didn't even fucking realise. Nothing had mattered but your safety and he scared himself with how much his body shook with a desire to destroy the person responsible.
“I’m driving back to your apartment, where you're going to grab your necessities, whilst I pay a visit to your little neighbour downstairs. You’re staying with me, for however long,” Carmen replies with a sneer, walking you through the back door, which you were all too thankful for, you couldn't bear to see the look on the crew’s faces if you had to walk back in.
“Carmen you can’t” You reply rushed, as Carmen slid you into the passenger seat, before clicking on your seat belt for you. He cocks his head, before raising his eyebrows
“Oh, I can’t? Honey, the police don’t do their job and my baby get’s fucking hurt. Nah, that doesn't work for me” Carmen replies, before rushing to enter the driver's seat, shifting the gear into drive before speeding down the city streets. 
His focused on the road, his face unblinking and he grips the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white, you can’t stop looking at him, his gorgeous under the moonlight of the skies, his cheeks crimson from his tears, his cerulean blues calling to you like the sea, and the curl of his blonde hair falling like waves.
The view of your apartment complex comes into your vision as Carmen turns into the carpark in one swift move, you can’t stop the shake of your fingers and Carmen wants to slam his first into the steering wheel when he notices.
“You alright?” Carmen replies “You can stay here, I’ll grab whatever you need”
You want to stay, want to remain in the safety of his sleek tinted windows, but you want to face it too, and somehow that need is more important, he doesn’t get to win, no fucking way.
You unclip your seat belt, opening the door as you turn to him “You going to show me how you protect me or what?”
Carmen bites back a smile, god he was so fucking proud. He could tell you were scared shit less, and yet you fought through that fear, and god you mesmerised him. You were stronger than he could ever be, and he wanted to take that burden from you, carry it himself so you didn't have to.
Carmen jogs to the back of the car, reaching into the boot before the clunk of wood on gravel meets your ears. Carmen nods towards you, as he grips a bat under his arm
“He puts a bruise on you and i break all his fucking bones” Carmen replies, and you can’t stop the joy that image brings you
Carmen walks you to your apartment, waiting outside like a hawk, his bat tight against his grip as he watches the hallways, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, you feel infinitly and utterly safe.
You throw your toiletries into a bag, grabbing a few nights of clothes and your work shoes. You eyes flicker around your apartment, it had been home to you for the past 4 years, and yet it felt so foreign to you now, you had grown to attest this place, this place you had filled with so much of yourself, and you hate him so much at that moment, for making you feel this way about a place you had once loved.
You leave your apartment with the door shut closed.
Carmen carries your bag and places them back into the back seat of the car, and as he begins to walk towards the apartment of your neighbour you reach a hand out to stop him.
“Honey, I’ve got to-” Carmen begins before you shut him quickly
“I want to watch” You reply quietly, and Carmen’s eyes flicker, before lacing his fingers into yours, as you both knock on his door.
There's a grumble before the clank of a chain slides open, and his face appears as the door opens to him, you can see the illuminated light of his TV glaring, the floor covered with pizza boxes and beer cans. You see in real time, how his face morphs from anger into fear, his eyes dropping as he sees the way Carmen practically shakes, and the man isn’t able to let out a word, a protest or wail of a plea before the crack of Carmen's wooden bat swings through the air.
-- -
“Are you sure he isn't dead?” You reply, as you dip a washcloth into warm water, wiping away the blood across Carmen’s neck
“He isn’t going to die if I wasn’t the one causing it, besides, if he does, that’s God finishing off the rest of it”. Carmen replies, raising his face so that you cleaned the last of the streaks of blood splattered across his jaw.
Carmen reaches for your hands, pressing a kiss to the top of them as he looks at you in that way like he yearns for you to be closer. 
“You need sleep, but first you need to eat, yeah?” Carmen replies, shushing your protests and he carries you to his room in his arms, after he notices the exhaustion in your limbs. It’s dark, illuminated only by the wall to ceiling windows that look into the busy city streets and light up sky scrapers. 
The sheets are strewn across the bed, haphazard like Carmen had rushed to get them off of him in the early mornings. Carmen slides you into them, tucking you within the soft pillowy blanket, sitting on the edge as he caresses your cheek softly.
He leaves for a moment, rushing to make you something to eat, his skin crawling with a need to feel you against him, nearly tripping over himself as he walks back into his room with a bowl of soup and a bottle of water.
Carmen sits next to you again, pressing spoonfuls of soup into your mouth and wiping the edges ceremoniously as you rest against the headboard half asleep. 
You don’t notice the way he looks at you, like he's trying to memorise every dip and curve of your face, his fingers clutching the spoon tight like he’s going to break if he doesn't hold you against him.
“Honey?” Carmen replies hushed
“Hmh?” You reply, your eyes heavy as the comfort of Carmen's warmth spreads through you.
“Don’t ever scare me like that again, you tell me everything okay? Everything” Carmen replies pained, like the events that transpired somehow still were not resolved, like breaking the man's legs wasn't enough for him.
“Okay” You reply, and Carmen places the dishes onto the bedside table, leaving it to the morning because he can't keep you away from him any longer.
Carmen joins you in the bed, the left side of his bed finally taken by somebody for the first time in a long time. Tugging you against him, Carmen curls your body to lay against his chest, his fingers softly gracing your back, soft circles that had begun to lull you to a sleep you hadn’t felt in months, years even.
The beat of Carmen's heart joins with yours, together and entwined like how it was always meant to be, why had Carmen waited so long? Why had he let time pass without you tucked under him, safe within his arms and away from all the horrors of the world.
It’s only when Carmen notices the shift in your breathing, falling into a soft exhale before he even lets the whispers of sleep grip him within its grasps, his shoulders finally release from its tensed state once he knows you've finally fallen into a sleep that had been kept from you.
“You don’t know how much I love you baby girl, it fucking scares me, but I’ll keep reminding you until infinity if I have to, until you know it deep down like I do” Carmen mumbles out, his eyes falling heavy and you grips you against his chest.
You don’t really know how, but even between the state of sleep and consciousness, you hear him, and you whisper between the space in your bodies, that you already do.
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adventuringblind · 4 months
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Hi, I noticed (mainly bc u read a lot of your work) that you write a lot of dark/ self harm based/themed fics so I was wondering if you would be comfortable with writing a lestappen x reader with an Ed. It’s totally fine if you don’t want to so ofc feel free to ignore
(Your work is always very well written and I look forward to reading what you post next)
One for you and One for me
Lestappen x Reader
Genre: Angst/hurt comfort
Summary: Nobody is immune to the toxicity of social media, Charles and Max help their girl through it
Warnings: HEAVY ED, toxic media, body dysmorphia, sexual acts are mentioned but nothing happens
Notes: You must be psychic because I you sent this while I'm struggling with my own ED. I hope this helps you as much as it did me! 😊
Masterlist
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Social media is something that everyone seems to revolve around. In theory, it could be great. Getting to see photos of friends and family and updates from celebrities you wouldn't otherwise interact with.
But here's the catch: in practice, the entire thing falls apart. People are left with images of things that are unachievable. Photoshop and filters have become everyone's new best friends. People put only their best foot forward and try to look as perfect as possible.
And those who don't? The ones who are criticized? The ones who will never meet that expectation? They are left trying to swim to the surface of a never-ending ocean. Drowning under the weight never being enough.
So, they do what they can. Nothing can be that bad if it makes them feel better, right? What's one meal skipped every day to cut back on calories?
In her case, she'd cut it all out. The idea of perfection and control weigh heavy in the pit of her stomach. The one that is currently growling as she weighs herself for the fifth time that day alone.
It's addicting, really, the feeling she gets from having gone another hour without a meal. The elation of seeing the scale drop in number.
The media and fans had been all over her appearance after going public with Max and Charles. She'd tried to ignore, but there was a piece of her looking for an excuse to dive back into the habits of her teenage years.
Her mother said she never looked like she had an eating disorder. Her father only started compliment her on her appearance once she was significantly underweight.
Max and Charles had been there for the fall. Her habits finally catching up to her when she started working with Redbull. She didn't have the energy to keep up with the schedule and one day had simply collapsed.
She'd gotten better. Promised the two boys they would never be on the verge of losing her like that again.
Now here she is, breaking that promise over the triple header by not eating at all. She'd started slowly, but now she has a chance to speed things up before the two boys notice anything. Too busy to really pay attention to her weight.
Maybe it would've been better if they hadn't been caught eating together. The fans might have a little less leverage to use on her. Maybe if she wasn't wearing something more revealing to a party in Monaco then they wouldn't have noticed how she looks.
The number on the scale is far from perfect, but it'll do for now. She slips on her teamwear that is looser than it was a few days ago. A satisfied but tired smile plays on her lips as she walks out the door.
The paddock is busy prior to the race. cameras are everywhere and she does her best to avoid them. Thankful her job is away from the majority of people. The less the cameras see of her, the better. A small part of her wonders if it would simply be better to disappear or become invisible. Maybe if she's thin enough, she'll be invisible from the side.
The day seems to drag on. The race is good and ends with both Max and Charles on the podium. It's the last race of the triple header meaning they will want to celebrate properly tonight. Maybe they will compliment her more now that she's lost weight. There is a prominent gap in her thighs and maybe will even be light enough for them to carry. The though makes her swoon.
The cheery conversation in the car quickly turns to logistics. Plans for dinner are made and she claims to have eaten while finishing up her work. To hungry to wait any longer.
There is a hesitant pause. They like knowing she ate with visible proof. That being the reason they eat together or at least someone is there to tell she ate if asked. Even if it's a bite.
They don't mention it. Charles orders in while Max drags her out of ear shot. She assumes it's because he is pent up, nothing surprising after a race. But nothing happens and she is left mildly disappointed.
Max cups her face. "I'm sorry we've been so busy."
"That's not your fault."
"No, but-" Max looks hesitant. "We know you haven't been eating. You're exhausted and your clothes don't fit. We can feel your bones when we hold you at night." She looks at Max in horror. "We thought maybe if we just made sure you felt comfortable that you would come to us but it's bad again."
Charles puts hands on her hips. "We'll take it slow, like last time. But please, we love you too much to see you become a shell of yourself again."
They say in that embrace until there is a knock at the door. Max is quick to answer it. He comes back holding their dinner. An extra box sits on top. One she assumes is for her.
"We got you a small salad. Nothing massive, no dressing, just vegetables." Max sets it all out on the table. They keep up casual conversation, so she doesn't feel horribly uncomfortable. Until they notice she is just playing with her food.
"How about, we continue talking, but we take turns taking bites? If you manage three, we'll call it a night," suggests Charles. Goal setting was helpful last time around. One week she took one bite of every meal, the next was two, and so on.
She manages three bites. Each of her own followed by one of theirs.
They all clamber into bed afterwards. Exhaustion hits her hard.
No, it's not perfect or straightforward. Relapses happen but healing is full of ups and downs. But she has people who care and who love her for who she is, not what she looks like. They'd rather her be healthy then bringing herself to the brink of collapse. And she loves them enough to try her best which is all they can ask for.
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httplilyyy · 9 months
Text
𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 || 𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐀 𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐅
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pairing: lena oberdorf x reader
summary: you're best friends so what's wrong with one little cuddle?
warnings: nothing but fluff
word count: 1.3k
a/n: i haven’t written for the woso world in a while and due to the wwc going on i thought it was only fair to write a couple fics. send in ideas and prompts for people you want me to write for and i’ll see if my brain can work something out :)
woso masterlist request
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You've known Lena for what seemed like forever. From the moment the two of you met you couldn't be kept away from each other. Now three years on, the two of you were as thick as thieves.
Only up until recently, you had been thinking of Lena in a different way. Going from longing gazes to discrete touches. You knew you were falling for the girl but you just couldn't stop yourself.
You knew you couldn't do anything with these feelings so you kept them buried deep down. Not telling anyone. Not a single soul.
Due to hiding your feelings you had been different around Lena, and you were sure she could sense it. As much as it pained you, you tried to put a little distance between you both but you were just not able to keep her from running around in your mind.
You were currently sitting on your sofa at home, scrolling through instagram when you noticed that Lena had posted. Clicking on her account you could’ve sworn you had heart palpitations.
Immediately liking her new photo, your heart nearly jumped out of your chest once you saw a message pop up at the top of your screen.
[ lena: 6:56pm ] eager much?
[ you: 6:56pm ] i’m sorry?
[ lena: 6:56pm ] check when i posted
Opening instagram back up, you saw how long ago she posted. And it wasn't long at all. 1 minute ago. Shit.
[ you: 6:57pm ] what? I can’t like a photo of my best friend?
Playing it cool and definitely not acknowledging the way your chest pained after typing the reply.
[ lena: 6:57pm ] oh no, you can. just seemed a bit quick, no?
[ you: 6:57pm ] i refreshed the app and you popped up
[ lena: 6:57pm ] mhm sureeeee
[ you: 6:58pm ] i hate you
[ lena: 5:58pm ] no you don’t
[ you: 5:58pm ] i’m pretty sure i do
[ lena: 5:58pm ] so if i invited you over for pizza and a movie you wouldn't come?
[ you: 5:59pm ] i hate you
[ lena: 5:59pm ] i’ll see you in a bit
You huffed out a laugh, getting up from the sofa with a sinking feeling in your stomach. You couldn't help but wonder what it’d be like if you actually told her how you felt. Shaking your head, you got rid of that idea.
Grabbing your keys from your kitchen counter, you put your shoes on and made your way over to Lena’s. It wasn’t a long drive and before you knew it you were standing outside her front door, waiting for her to let you in.
“The stalker’s here.” Lena grinned as she opened the door.
“Ha ha, very funny.” You deadpanned, walking past her and into the living room where there was pizza laid out on the coffee table.
“Wow, I don't even get a ‘hi’ and you’re already digging into the pizza.” Lena scoffed, sitting beside you on the sofa.
“I only came for free food and a movie.” You said with a grin, discreetly trying to put space between the two of you.
“Whatever.” Lena said, rolling her eyes as she tried to fight off a smile that made its way onto her face.
“What movie are we watching?” You asked, taking another slice of pizza.
“Ten things I hate about you.”
“Really?”
“What? I like a good romcom.” Lena shrugged, taking a slice of her own and pressing play on the movie.
As the movie went on, your concentration became less and less. Your brain solely focused on the person beside you. No matter how much space you put between her, you still felt yourself being drawn back to her. Like an unexplainable force pushing you together.
Shifting in your spot, you tried to get comfortable but it was no use. Every position seemed to be more uncomfortable than the last and unbeknownst to you, Lena seemed to be having the same problem.
From all your shifting around, the two of you were now sitting next to each other. Shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. Lena rested her head on your shoulder, still trying to find a comfortable position.
Accidentally, Lena let out a small grumble, becoming fed up with being uncomfortable.
“You okay?” You chuckle, looking down at Lena.
“No.” She huffed, moving off your shoulder.
“What’s up?”
“I can’t get comfy.”
“Neither.” You agreed, a small tight-lipped smile making its way onto your face.
“Lay back.” Lena said, placing her hands on your waist, pushing you to lay on your back.
“Wha- um, okay.” You said, heart pounding as you let Lena guide you back.
You got yourself in a position so your head was rested on a pillow, being slightly propped up by the arm of the sofa so you could fully lay down.
Once you had stopped moving, Lena crawled on top of you, laying her body across yours.
“Is this okay?” Lena questioned as she let out a content sigh against your neck, her breath sending goosebumps to spread like a wildfire over your skin.
“Huh- I- what?” You blushed, eyes wide as you scolded yourself for not being able to form a complete sentence.
“Do you want me to get off?” Lena asked, placing her hands on the arm of the sofa, either side of your head, so she could look at your face properly.
“No! I uh-” You coughed and let out a nervous laugh. “I don’t think so?”
“You don’t think so?” Lena repeated with a teasing tone.
“I don’t want you to get off.”
“Okay.” Lena smiled and moved back to the position she was in originally.
By now the movie was long forgotten and you couldn't help the way your heart sped up at how Lena was on top of you.
Not knowing what to do without malfunctioning, you kept your arms up in the air, deciding that was the better option.
“You can touch me, y’know. I’m not fragile.” Lena said softly, reaching her arm out to grab yours, placing it around her waist.
“Mhm, yeah. I know that.” You said, placing your other arm on her back, slowly drawing intricate patterns.
The two of you didn't say anything for the rest of the movie, the both of you enjoying the tranquillity of the moment. As the credits played, you had failed to notice that Lena had drifted off to sleep.
You had tried to slide out from underneath her but it was no use. Shifting in her sleep, Lena mumbled a few incoherent words and you knew that you had fallen so hard, you don’t think anyone would be able to save you.
Letting yourself drift off into a deep sleep, the only thing grounding you was the person on top of you.
Many hours passed and it was now the early hours of the morning, the sun peaking through the blinds caused Lena to wake up from her sleep.
Some time during the night, the two of you had shifted so she was trapped between you and the cushions of the sofa.
Lena froze, noticing the position she was currently in and letting a blush take over her features. Her leg was draped over yours, tangled together and her hand had made its way up your top, resting on your stomach.
Snapping herself out of her thoughts, Lena quickly removed her hand from under your top, suddenly feeling her fingertips grow cold.
Shifting in your sleep, you wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her just a tad closer and resting your head in her neck.
“You’re staring.” You mumbled, eyes still closed as you let a small smile take over your face.
“I’m not.” Lena protested, weakly trying to get out of your hold.
“You’re lucky I like you.” You smiled, moving your head back to the pillow and tightening your grip on her.
Lena laid quietly for a while, assuming you had drifted back off to sleep before she spoke up again.
“I like you too.” She whispered, brushing a strand of hair that fell over your face.
“I knew it.” You smirked, pulling her closer into you. “Now go back to sleep.”
Lena let out a small chuckle, pressing her lips to your cheek before cuddling herself into you and drifting back off into sleep.
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xo-cod · 5 months
Note
Hii<3 I really love your poly 141 hcs and I come here like every 5 minutes lol
How do you think each of the boys would try to impress reader and make the others jealous?
getting through the requests so slowly ☠ but thank you sm baby <33 hope you enjoy! 🤍 rushed/ooc
this is just the jealous part, i feel like i've already written how they try to impress you <33 but feel free to request :)
poly 141 x reader: jealousy
price exercises his leadership, never in a harmful way. but he's the captain for a reason. if he catches ghost/gaz/soap trying to come close to you he's already ordering them on another task on the pretense of preparing for the mission. this man is ruthless, he pratically dares them to come close. locks you away in his office, has you sitting pretty on his chair with his bucket hat on you. already scenting you, unbeknownst to you. but you smell covered in his cologne
ghost shows off his strength, working out extra long whenever you're around. he's internally laughing when he sees your eyes staring at him and he'll offer you the chance to touch them. looking at the rest of the 141 with a smug look. he exploits his advantage, getting any and every opportunity he can to get you to touch him which only serves to infuriates the others and boost his ego. gets any chance to rub his musk on you so the others know especially you were around him
gaz will simply spoil you, his method is different. he's buying you gifts and pretty things, showing you with love. and absolutely cocky when he sees you wearing the jewellery he's bought you, smirking at the rest of the team because you had his gift on you. walks around with his chest puffed out because his gifts are touching your skin, adorning your body. offers to help you place them on but secretly just wants to touch your skin and nuzzle you close.
soap will try anything to get you to laugh, especially when you're around the others. and then he's looking at the rest of the men with a cocky look knowing they could never get you to laugh just as hard as he can. bundling you in big bear hugs which results in ghost twitching his eye and price and gaz holding back by a string not to fight him. squeezes you extra close in pure pettiness
but as hot as jealousy can be, it's not something the boys enjoy at all
thankfully it doesn't happen most times but on the occasional times, it's intense
it has them double guessing and a lot of insecurities stem from it, it has them lashing at the other team members first and then on you
gaz and soap need to be comforted with physical touch, that you still love them, no favourites
gaz will wrap his arms tight around you, his face buries in the crown of your head while he's rocking you both softly
johnny is the type of snuggle deep into your chest, his arms attached to your waist. he's so unwilling to let you go, like a clingy baby <3
they both don't speak any words, their love flows through their actions.
ghost and price need to be reassured first, especially if you're much younger than them. it has them double guessing the whole thing
ghost has a bad tendency to become closed off and he won't want to even speak to you. but he's only human and he's weak, he'll spill to you what's bothering him
price almost feels guilty acting this way, especially because he doesn't mean to be so jealous. it just happens and he feels so terrible, unable to look at you in the eye
but it takes some time for your words to reach their hearts and finally when they relax and loosen up, it's hard to pry either one off from you.
and then a group hug with all four, each man muttering how the other needs to learn how to share which almost results in another fight but you intervene
and they calm down, going back to hug you again
the night ends depending on you, cuddles or sex ;)
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ivy-loves-chocolate · 25 days
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Texting them “I need you right now”
Note: hi everyone! So sorry for not posting in months, life wasn't easy on me. I managed to sort things out (hopefully they will stay organised this time, or else I'm starting a new life in Spain), and I plan to write more. I'm also taking commissions again (the financial situation it's not good, so every commission would help me a lot!). Anyway, I haven't written anything since January, so please be kind with me.
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He won't see your text right away because he's a busy man. After he has some free time, he checks his phone and immediately opens the chat with you, ignoring everyone else.
"What is it, sweetheart?"
"I just don't feel okay. Can you come over?"
The text is demanding, and he knows something is wrong with you, so he tries to finish faster whatever he had planned for that day, which he fails because he is constantly thinking about you. So, he dropped everything and came to you. 
Wesker is a man of his word, so he arrives on time.
"Have you been crying, my love?" he asked as he saw that your eyes were all red and your face was swollen.
"Yeah...petty reason." 
"If it was petty, you wouldn't have called me."
You wasted no time and threw yourself in his arms, sinking into his embrace and burring your face into his chest.
Being busy all the time, you barely see him. Maybe once a month nowadays, and this long wait only contributed to your sadness. You yearned to talk with someone like him because he made you feel safe. You knew he was listening, and you knew he didn't judge. Also, he would comfort you with small kisses and gentle touches and would praise you for being strong.
He moved you to your sofa, made your favourite tea, and listened carefully as you talked about your worries and recent unfortunate events.
During that time, he received a lot of calls and texts, but he turned his phone on silent because his main priority was you.
He hugged you tight, telling you that he'd always be there for you, no matter what. One hand would gently massage your hair, and the other would massage your back. It hurt him so damn much to see you like this and hear you sob in his arms. He wanted to hurt everyone who caused you to end up like this, and he was very vocal about his intentions.
"You can't protect me from the world, Albert. All you can do is be here for me when I need it."
He didn't like your response or agree with your opinion, but for now, he kept you tight to his chest.
He usually stays until you feel better, and then he leaves to do his work. He will be worried all day because you're still on his mind, so he checks on you frequently, promising to take you on a small trip to calm your mind.
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The government agent is always busy. He's either stuck in his office completing paperwork, training new recruits, or on a mission on the other side of the globe.
He wasn't away on the field, so when he saw your text, he immediately responded. Even if he was busy doing desk duty or fighting, he would try to respond asap (he will hide in a corner if he had to, if that means he'll get five minutes of peace to text you back because he knows how worried you can get). 
"What's wrong, doll?"
"I don't feel well. Can you come over?"
A pretty demanding text means an urgent need, so he left early, abandoning everything he had scheduled for today. That annoyed some of his superiors, but he got away without much trouble.
Leon tried his best to arrive on time. He was being pressured by time and worry; he drove like a maniac to your place on his motorcycle, but he stopped to buy your favorite sweets.
"I bought you something good," he said, smiling in the doorframe and opening the bag to show the inside. However, his smile dropped. 
"Have you been crying?" he asked, quickly cupping your face and caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. Your face was flushed and very warm to the touch, and your eyes were swollen and teary.
"Yeah...petty reason."
"You don't cry like that for a petty reason," he said as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. You quickly hugged him and burried your nose at the crook of his neck. He hugged you back tight, a trail of kisses caressing your skin, starting from your neck to your face.
He guided you to the bed, where he listened to you and held you tight. His fingers kept brushing over your face, and his lips would occasionally press tiny, affectionate kisses over your skin. His body was glued to yours, and the warmth from such an intimate embrace made you feel safe. You felt safe not only to express your emotions, but you also felt sheltered from the rest of the world.
"You are not alone," he whispered as his hand caressed your back in a gentle manner. "I told you, no matter how hard it gets, we'll find a way to get through it together." 
He usually stays until he makes sure you feel better. After that, he texts you the whole day, asking how you feel because he can't ease his own anxiety. He promised to take you on a vacation.
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He noticed your text right away, but he's stuck with his research and can't reply instantly. He will text you back as soon as he can.
"What's wrong, mi bella princesa?"
"I just don't feel okay. Can you come over?"
With much difficulty and a lot of excuses, he manages to leave his laboratory and come to your place.
Upon seeing your red and watery eyes, he quickly came inside and cupped your face.
"Have you been crying?" he asked, worried, his fingers brushing over your warm, red cheeks.
"yeah...petty reasons." You tried your best to smile.
"Querida, you don't cry like that because of petty reasons." He gently kissed your forehead.
He pulled closer to him, and you quickly hugged him, buring your face into his chest. Luis kept kissing you and whispering kind words to help you feel better.
"Just talk to me, ok? There isn't anything in this world that we can't get through."
Despite the firm grip around your body, he managed to caress you with tenderness. His strokes were as delicate as a feather, and every soft kiss felt warm and loving. 
He was so kind and gentle, and his attitude only made you more vulnerable, so you started crying again.
"Please, my love, don't cry. It breaks my heart to see you like this." He whispered.
He guided you to the bed and cuddled with you. His arms were wrapped around your body, and his nose was buried in your hair.
"Is there anything I can do to make it all go away?" He said, hand stroking your back. 
"No, just hold me like this."
It breaks his heart to see you like that, so he kept thinking about making you feel better.
"How about you and I go for a walk?" He said this as his fingers ran through your smooth hair. "Or we can stay here and cuddle; watch that movie you like. I can make something to eat, and we can relax."
"It sounds good," you said, your smile making a shy return. "I'm sorry if I freaked you out."
"it's fine." He pressed a lingering kiss on your cheek. "You know I'm always here for you."
"I know, and I appreciate that." You caressed his face, your fingers exploring every inch, going through his fluffly hair over his beard and over his lips. You two were looking at each other with the same enamoured gaze as in the beginning.
"We can spend some time tomorrow if you want," he added, being enchanted by the shared intimate moment, feeling drawn in by your presence, and wanting to spend more time with you.
"What about work?" you asked.
"Don't worry, as much as I hate it, I will find the lab in the same place I left it today."
Your light chuckle made him feel a little better. Whenever you are sad, he feels his heart shatter into tiny pieces. You mean the world to him, and he'd do anything to protect you.
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He was training the new recruits when his phone buzzed in his pocket. After a quick glance, he gave the men a five-minute break so he could respond to you. Jack blames himself for not giving you proper attention since he is always on the field, so when he can, he drops everything and focuses on you entirely.
"What's wrong, beautiful?"
"I don't feel well. Can you come over?"
His subordinates were thrilled to find out that they had the rest of the day off.
He is a punctual man, so he arrives on time and not a minute late, holding a bag with your favourite snacks.
He tried to hide his worry behind a comforting smile. He quickly noticed your puffy face and teary eyes.
"Have you been crying?" he asked in a low tone, coming closer to you. He cups your face and brings you closer to him, pressing small, gentle kisses all over your face. His tenderness was endearing, so much so that warm tears began to drip down your cheeks again.
"It's just...petty reasons." You said it with a trembling voice.
"Bullshit."
He pulled you closer to his chest and held you tight. His hands were stroking your back, his head pressed to yours. His much larger frame swallowed you whole, seeming as if you had disappeared completely.
You felt safe in his arms. It was so warm and comforting, and not only his embrace made you feel this way, but also his reassuring words that he'd whisper constantly.
He carried you to the bed, and as he was sitting close to you, he brushed his fingers over your check and listened closely to what you had to say. It broke his heart to see you like this, and he couldn’t stop asking himself if, if he were there more often for you, you would still end up like this. This type of question tormented him, and you could feel that.
“I’m sorry, maybe it’s a lot too dump on you.” You said this as you caressed his face, your fingers trailing over his scars.
“No, not at all, love.” He took your hand and placed a lingering kiss in your palm. “I just wish I was there for you more often.”
“Don’t put so much pressure on yourself. The important thing is that you’re here now, and that means a lot to me."
You felt his lips kissing you softly once your head was pressed against his chest. 
He still feels guilty, but it doesn't press over his shoulder as hard anymore. He promised to spend more time with you.
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citrineandrosmarin · 19 days
Text
Free Writing
(Decided to make this its own post.)
Free Writing is a method of journaling but can also be used to communicate with entities such as deities. It can also help to develop your clairs. It's pretty simple to do and you can also do it via typing or probably even voice recording if those are more accessible for you. It involves writing your stream of consciousness without worrying about grammar or spelling.
Here is how you can do it:
Grab a notebook or whatever you are going to write/type with. Include a timer if you want to set a time limit.
Set up in a space where you will not be interrupted and have nothing distracting you. It can be quiet or with instrumental music (avoid music with lyrics unless you want to see if certain lyrics pop out to you).
Make an offering (optional) and pray to/invite the deity you want to speak to.You can use a divination tool to confirm their presence if you wish.
Ground and center yourself in the present. You want to get into a receptive, meditative state or as close to it as you are able to have.
Start writing. I usually start with something intentional to get the ball rolling such as "I am listening" or whatever just to get my hands moving.
Write everything that comes to mind or into your awareness - and do not try to control any of it or make judgements about it. You are just receiving right now. Don't worry about spelling or grammar or anything like that. If you smell chocolate then write that down. If you feel dumb doing this then write it down. If your mind is blank then write what you hear or smell or see or just write that your mind is blank.
You may notice in the moment that some things feel different or are definitely not your own thoughts. It may be easy to know what is your deity's message or it may not. If you do notice/feel something then you can write it down or make a little note with a symbol like a * or just be aware of it and continue.
Stop when the timer goes off or when it feels right or when your deity has delivered their message. Thank them.
Read over what you have written. I like to use highlighters here: one color for what was definitely my own thoughts and another for what I am certain is from the deity. You can also have a color for sensory observations, or wherever you're uncertain about where the thought or image comes from, or if you notice something that may be more towards the shadow work side of things or negative thoughts, etc.
Make a note on your experience. How did you feel? Did you sense any energies? Did you feel something different when you were getting down certain words? Reflect a bit on the experience.
If you want you can copy the results into a neater or summarised format then do so! If you have messy handwriting and some words are a mess then go in and make it clearer what the word is. You may look back months later and you don't want to be confused what word that one scribble is supposed to be! I have two journals, one to do this exercise in and one woth the neater notes and summaries.
It may take time to get comfortable doing this and to develop discernment but I've found it very helpful personally!
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figgrrr0 · 1 year
Note
Hii im new here! Found your blog by chance and I love how you write! Would you be able to write wanderer x jealous!reader on valentines day? Lets say Wanderer has got a lot of admirers from the akademiya and reader is just silently furious abt it but doesnt say anything. When Wanderer finds out he fucks them nicely and praise them/ reassures them <333
Apparently I struggle to do angry jealousy, I just make it sad... but it's light this time! And soft.
Also it feels so weird writing Wanderer as a name??
Want to skip the lead up? Look for the NSFW sign that marks the smut!
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Valentine's with Wanderer
Character: Top!Wanderer/Scaramouche
Reader: Bottom!Gn // Genre: Smut, angst
Cw: Classic Scara misunderstandings, praise/reassurance, fingering, soft sex, slight angst(?) it's more hinted I guess
Plot: A little // Word count: 1.9k
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Valentine's Day: a day of love, gifts, and showing appreciation for your partner.
Usually, everyone tries to take the day off, freeing up their schedule so that they can focus entirely on the occasion, however it may be that they want to spend it. Which is why you were quite surprised to find yourself alone in bed when you woke up in the morning.
Now, that's not when you started feeling doubt. After all, maybe Wanderer, your boyfriend of the past few months, was in the kitchen. Breakfast in bed is a traditional start to Valentine's Day, and an easy way to get in anyone's good books. But, when you heard nothing after a few minutes of waiting, – no clanking of cutlery or slamming of cabinets – you just had to go see where he was.
Unluckily for you, all you could find was a little note, hastily sprawled and left waiting on the counter:
"I'll be gone for a while, don't wait up for me. I left you some breakfast in the cupboard, it might need heating up if you stay in bed too long, but that's not my fault...
–Happy Valentine's Day."
As usual, his handwriting is kind of hard to read; quick and messy. But, at least he did technically make you breakfast, even if he also alluded to you being lazy.
However, what most takes your attention, is the blotch of ink that splattered right at the end of "fault". It was as if he were hesitating to let go, to pick up the pen and leave it at that.
Which is why you felt oddly warm at the fact that the last part was perfectly legible and obviously had been written slower than the rest.
Even though you know Wanderer isn't particularly fond of outright expressing his feelings, you thought that surely, today of all days, he could push aside his own pride for you. Even just a little. Maybe that was too high of an expectation. His ambitions never let him take a break, so why would he take one for a made-up holiday?
Well... at least he's aware enough of your excitement for the day to acknowledge it first thing in the morning, even if he wasn't there to actually say it.
But, you knew that with Wanderer, everything would be awkward and touchy the first time around. You had to move slowly. Baby steps, you remind yourself, as you head back to your shared room to start getting ready.
It's only the start of the day.
...
You wish it weren't Valentine's Day.
Every street was lined with couples, each and every one of them holding hands, carrying flowers... things that you should be doing with your boyfriend right now.
And it didn't help that you felt like everyone was judging you for being alone, especially when most of them likely knew who you were dating. It's not like you hadn't seen them staring before now.
You couldn't blame them, really. Wanderer had shown up in Sumeru suddenly and didn't feel especially inclined to explain himself, so of course people would be curious. You just didn't like the way that their eyes would... linger after him. Even when you were there! And on the rare day that Wanderer was comfortable enough to let you hold onto him in public, the admiring stares turned to full-blown jealousy.
Now, what was wrong with that? Shouldn't that be an ego boost for you? You'd thought so too, at first. But then you realised that just meant they'd want to try and steal him from you.
You thought you could put up with it at first. After all, you knew that Wanderer wouldn't stand for anyone else touching him or getting in his way other than you. You trusted him just fine. You didn't trust the average Akademiya goer, though. They all seemed to think they were entitled to have whatever – or whoever – they wanted, just because they'd gotten into the prestigious school at all.
You'd tried to bring up your concerns to Wanderer about the whispers going around and the jealous looks you'd get when walking through the streets or halls of the Akademiya. Almost instantaneously, he shut down your complaints, finding the words so easily that it almost felt as though he hadn't even tried.
"Tch... they're annoying and only want to waste our time. Just ignore them like I do."
That response was actually exactly what you'd expected to hear, and while you were grateful for his straightforward answer, you'd wanted a more... passionate outcome. Something to show he cared.
That definitely isn't what you got, considering he didn't even look at you when he said it.
After that, you didn't want to bring up the same problem again. Especially not on Valentines Day, even though he'll probably come home having been confessed to over twenty times in the past hour alone. Okay, maybe you were over-exaggerating a little, but it really didn't feel like it to you. Plus, it's the day of love! You're allowed a little leeway for feeling paranoid, right?
Maybe this evening will be better, when Wanderer finally comes come.
...
As you walk through the door, you're instantly met with a faint smell that you recognised to be the lavender lemongrass scented candles that you kept around the house. Of course, this clued you in to the fact that Wanderer must already be home. But what solidified this, was that when you walked through the doorway, there he was, waiting for you standing next to a vase of beautifully arranged flowers. It was mainly made up of your favourite flower, along with some of the famous Valentine's flowers as well, such as roses, carnations, and even some daisies.
Most likely, it was thought up by the florist that he went to. But at least he knew your favourite flower, as well as followed the tradition of buying them for you at all.
Often times, it was unusual for him to initiate physical touch with you; even though he was comfortable with you, he still just wasn't used to it yet. Tonight, however, he seemed to have no trouble in walking right up to you, taking your hand to guide you into the living room, where you could both just relax in each other's company. The calming lavender lemongrass candles eased your mood quite well, and you were happy that your Wanderer had really tried for Valentine's day.
...
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You had a lovely evening with your boyfriend, cuddling on the couch as you spoke in hushed voices about anything and everything (even if he was slightly apprehensive to start), the lovely atmosphere of romantic music quietly flooding through from the street.
And even though it had felt perfect, as you get ready to retire for the night, the candles having gone out a while ago, you can't help but feel the uncertainty from before start to overtake your thoughts again.
Resigning yourself to forget about it, you get into your side of the bed, your Wanderer already having been waiting for you to return. But he can tell that something in your mood has changed almost as soon as he lays his eyes on you again.
"What's wrong?"
"... Nothing."
He leans forward, showing his engagement. "Bullshit. If you don't tell me, there's nothing I can do to help you get over it."
"I just... those people from the Akademiya... they're still bothering me." You look down at your hands.
He sighs, closing his eyes for a second, "I've told you to just ignore them. There's nothing I can do to control how people think of you, or me, or us."
"I can't just ignore them!" You whine, "They're always looking at us when we're together... it's making me worried..."
At that, he looks over at you, his eyes scrunching as he thinks your words over. "Worried about what?"
Not sure how to say it, you move yourself to lay against him. Your back is pressed to his chest now, and the feeling of his warm breath on your neck helps to soothe your thoughts just enough for you to find the words:
"...I don't want them to take you from me..."
Now, it's Wanderer's turn to be silent. Now, he realises the mistake he'd made in telling you to just ignore those insignificant people; by ignoring the problem himself, he'd made you focus on it more. Of course you'd be feeling worried about this, he'd shut it down the first time you'd tried bringing it up.
You didn't need to just forget about it. You needed to work through it so that you could forget about it.
After almost a minute of tense silence, you're surprised when you feel his lips press gently to the back of your neck, accompanied moments later by his arm curling around you, pulling you ever closer against him. His hand rests over the place where your heart rests, while the other intertwines your fingers with his against your stomach, as if caging in the butterflies that start to flutter.
"Allow me to try again..." He presses a kiss to your ear before speaking again, "you don't need to think about them, or what I think about them." The hand on your heart shifts to cup your chest, your breath wavering when his hand brushes over your hardening nipples. "Because I'll never want anyone but you."
Then, the night is almost a blur.
Wanderer sneakily pulls a bottle of rose scented lube from under the pillow, liberally gathering some as he starts to stretch you out on his fingers. The scent slowly fills the room, intoxicating you on the heady fragrance, allowing it to pull you deeper into the moment.
He steadily pushes his fingers against the sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you, never slowing until after you've cum around his lubed up digits. Your hand finds purchase with the one on your chest, tightening your grip around him as you come down from the residual high.
He's whispering short encouragements to you while you collect your breath, the moans you'd been letting out dying on your tongue. Wanderer slowly lifts your leg, allowing him to guide his hard cock to finally, finally press against your hole, not making you wait to feel him as the slowly pushes in.
You don't need to adjust much, the lube and his attentive fingers having done the work well enough that only the comforting sensation of being full registers in your core. He starts thrusting when you signal that you're ready, his pace is easy and the power behind his hips is controlled enough to pull a soft moan from you with each stroke. It's different from what you're used to, but it's good. So good. And what makes it better is the hushed and stuttered, "I love you," and, "You're the only one that matters," that gets breathed into your shoulder as you both approach your shared climax.
The next morning, you wake up to find your Wanderer exactly where he ended last night; right next to you in your bed. You close your eyes contentedly, knowing you'll never have to worry about him being taken from you.
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He's your Wanderer.
Want to send a request/brainrot with me? Check my rules!
Thank you for reading! 🩷
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turnersverse · 21 days
Text
with the exception of you i dislike everyone in the room.
a/n: this is my first fic and i have no idea what i'm doing so please bear with! please feel free to leave any feedback bc the last time i wrote was over a year ago sooooo ...
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you discover alex's true feelings for you after finding his notebook he is always writing in but never shows anyone
friends to lovers, alex and reader have been friends for about 10 years !
you'd been in the studio all day with the band, even though you weren't apart of it you would often help with some of the guitar parts, seeing as you played it yourself. the monkeys already had about 4 songs for their new record, and you had a feeling this album could boost them to worldwide fame.
you were sat next to jamie, who was plucking at random strings on his guitar, his face scrunched up in concentration as he worked out in his brain the arrangement of notes. matt and nick were stood behind alex, who was hunched over his notebook that he wrote anything to do with the monkey's music in.
"al, mate, we need the lyrics. i don't know what i'm doing over here." jamie said, still looking at his guitar.
"just write a riff or something, i dunno." alex mumbled, before adding. "and can you two stop breathing down my neck? all i'm going to be able to write is how nick o'malley's annoyingly hot breath was gliding over the back of my head."
matt and nick just laughed as alex glared at them, nick starting to purposefully blow air at alex.
"right, stop it now." alex frowned, standing up from his seat. "i'm going for a smoke." and with that he left the room.
"he's got loads of songs in that stupid little book, he just doesn't want us to see them. i have a theory that he's just gonna start a solo project." matt said, sitting down on the sofa next to you. nick still hovered by alex's previous seat, looking between the notebook and the other three.
"no, nick, you can't." you said, knowing what nick was planning on doing.
matt caught on quickly, "i mean, it wouldn't hurt. al's not gonna know..."
"yeah but if he doesn't want us to see them, he'll have a good reason for it." you argued. jamie sighed and stood up, walking to the door.
"i'll go speak to him." the guitarist said before leaving the room.
you sat back, more comfortably, on the sofa. "why don't one of you write something? 'r u mine' is fairly based on the drums."
matt just scoffed, "yeah, i'll write summat, and then alex will come up with some lyrics that won't fit it at all." this had happened just the other day with jamie, who had written 'the best riff of his life' (as he'd called it) before alex showed the rest of the band the lyrics to a song he'd called 'mad sounds', which was much slower than what jamie had come up with.
"lets just have a peak.." nick said, inching closer to the notebook.
"nick, no." you said firmly.
"nick, yes!" matt said, a stupid grin on his face. the drummer looked at his mate, and a look was exchanged between the two. before you could even register their plan, matt had pinned your arms behind your back as nick grabbed the notebook.
you gasped in shock, looking between the two lads. matt was laughing whilst nick flicked through the book, until he stopped. you watched as his eyes scanned the page, before he spoke up. "hey, this is really good."
"let us see then." matt said, and nick handed the notebook to matt. you glanced over, although you knew your best mate would be fuming if he found out, the anticipation had got to you. scribbled at the top of the page were the words 'stop the world i wanna get off with you'. you read through the lyrics, finding that the song was obviously some sort of love song.
"that is really good." you said quietly, a few lyrics sticking out to you. a few phrases you'd heard before. matt hummed, and started tapping the floor with his foot. he flicked to the next page, where alex had written the guitar part.
"oh yeah." matt nodded, "this is similar to the tune we did the other day. 'why'd you only call me when you're high?'"
nick nodded, "yeah i noticed that. dunno who the lyrics are about but its pretty good." as he mentioned the lyrics, matt glanced at him, a certain look in his eyes.
you caught that, confusion written on your face. alex was your best mate, if something was going on, he'd tell you. but you felt like you were missing something here.
just as nick was about to say something, alex and jamie walked back into the room. you, matt and nick all looked between each other and alex, your eyes saying 'uh oh'. alex glanced at matts lap and saw the book.
"what the fuck?" he stormed over to matt and snatched his precious notebook up.
"alex, its good!" matt said, raising his arms up in defence.
"i dont want to do that one." he said angrily.
"why not?" you added in, looking at alex.
alex sighed, looking at you before sitting in the seat he had been in before. "lets just do something else."
"no, lets do this." nick said, his hands now on his hips.
"i wanna see." jamie said, walking to alex and picking up the notebook. alex didnt stop him, he just sat watching jamie's reaction.
after a few moments, jamie looked up with a smile, "this is really good."
"thanks." alex mumbled.
"we could do it. we could do a bit of.." matt stood up and went to his drums, picking up his drumsticks and drumming a bit of a beat. "we could do a bit of that."
alex nodded in approval, "yeah. i wrote the guitar as well. its on the next page."
matt smiled, now knowing that alex had given in as jamie flicked to the next page and looked at the guitar part. "yeahhhhh." he said, nodding his head. he put the notebook down and picked up his guitar, strumming the parts he remembered. everyone in the room collectively nodded, as nick picked up his bass and started playing stuff that would go along with the main guitar.
⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅
the band finished up in the studio 3 hours later, with a demo recorded for the album. alex had offered for you to go round his for tea, and you had gladly accepted. this was something the two of you did often; you would get together and order some sort of takeaway and spend most of the night talking. this had been a sort of tradition ever since alex bought his first house, and you and him spent the first night in there talking until the sun rose.
alex put out his cigarette before unlocking his car as you finished locking up the building. you got into the passenger side, flicking the radio on when alex started the car.
'starman' by david bowie was playing, a song you had always been fond of. you hummed along the the melodies as alex sat in a comfortable silence.
"i was thinking of covering summat for the album." alex spoke up, his accent prominent in his words.
"yeah?" you glance over at him, knowing he probably had an idea of what he wanted to cover by the tone of his voice.
"i was thinking that poem, the one you really like."
"what, 'i wanna be yours'?"
alex nodded. "yeah. thought it would be nice."
you nodded, a small smile on your face. "if you could pull it off. whats all this about though, with the new song and that? a new lover maybe?" you said, wiggling your eyebrows at alex.
"what? no!" he said, looking at you and then back at the road. "stop wiggling your eyebrows at me, you knob."
you just laugh in response, shaking your head as you turned your attention to the road. after a few moments, alex spoke up again.
"did you like the song though? i thought the lyrics were a bit.. i dunno.. cheesy."
"i think it's really good, al. it's similar to the stuff you wrote for 'suck it and see', in a way." you commented, holding back the other thoughts you had.
"yeah, i havent been feeling very.. romantic, lets say, since me and alexa broke up." alex said quietly, knowing that for the past 10 years, there probably hadn't been a single day he hadn't felt that way.
the two settled into a comfortable silence for the remainder of the journey back to alex's house. when they arrived, alex unlocked the door and you went straight to his living room, grabbing 'your' blanket from the back of the settee before settling in the corner of his l-shaped sofa, where you always sat. alex came back into the room with two cans: a can of carling and a pre-mix malibu and pineapple. he passed the latter to you, a quiet 'thank you' leaving your lips.
"chinese or pizza?" alex said, holding up the menus he had also collected from the kitchen.
you hummed, thinking for a moment. "pizza. usual order?"
alex nodded, reaching for his phone to order the food. you got comfy in your seat, pulling the blanket over your legs. you took the tv remote off the coffee table and flicked through the channels, not really reading what was on as something else plagued your mind.
"alright, cheers mate." alex said as he ended the call. "pizza will be here in 45 minutes."
you nodded, your eyes still focused on the tv screen. alex came and sat down next to you, pulling some of the blanket on to his lap and watching you try to find something to watch.
"that sounds good." he said to a true crime series you had stopped your scrolling to read the description of. you clicked on it and placed the remote back down on the coffee table, now concentrating on the series.
alex watched you for a few moments before watching the tv as well. he felt as if something was off with you. usually you would rest your head on his shoulder. he also felt like you'd been a lot quieter today, which you never are.
"are you okay?" he spoke up, watching you turn to look at him.
"uh, yeah." you said quickly, turning your attention back to the screen.
sighing, alex reached for the remote and paused the series. "no you're not. whats up?"
you pull your legs up to your chest, avoiding eye contact. "nothing, its just.." you trail off.
"just..?" alex said, waiting for you to continue.
you sigh, just deciding to spit it out. "the new song.. the lyrics."
alex felt his heart drop, knowing that you knew. "yeah?"
"'with the exception of you i dislike everyone in the room'. you said that to me. at the 'suck it and see' release party." you say, quietly.
"y/n.." alex said, praying silently for you to look at him. "i'm sorry."
you look up at him, confusion written all over your face. "why are you sorry?"
"i dunno, i'm sorry for letting my silly old heart feel like this. i understand if you don't feel the same. but every word in that song is true. the meaning of it all.. and i've always felt this way. thats not the only one as well. so many songs have been inspired by you, and how i feel for you. i'm so, so sorry if you don't reciprocate these feelings, but i can't hide them anymore." alex said, and you could see it all in his eyes. the desperation for you to feel the same, the fear of rejection, the look of love.
you didn't know what to do. you knew you felt the same, and it scared you. it scared you that you'd always loved alex, but could never bring yourself to do anything about it. you never dreamed he would feel the same until today.
"please say something." alex said quietly, watching you.
"i feel the same way." was all you could say at first. you watched as the look in alex's eyes completely changed, how it softened.
"it scares me alex, because i dont want to lose you. i can't lose you. you're my best friend, but i've always felt more. i've always longed to be the one you write songs about. the one you kiss goodnight and wake up beside every morning. but i'm so, so scared. i'm scared i'll ruin it all and i'll lose you. i'm scared of love." you say quietly. the next thing you knew, alexs arms were around your waist, pulling you to his chest.
you clutched onto him, relishing in the feeling of being in his arms. "don't feel like that. don't be scared. you'll never lose me." alex said softly.
you look up at him, watching as his gaze flickered between your eyes and lips, your breath stolen away as he closed the gap between you and met your lips with his. and in that moment, you knew that had been where you were wrong. as your lips fit alex's perfectly like a puzzle. you knew you were made for each other, soulmates both platonically and romantically.
⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅
another little a/n: i didn't really know where i was going with this, and i'm sorry if the endings shit😪
p.s if you noticed the miles reference ily
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small-sinclair · 10 months
Note
Heyy! Uhm so this is my first ever request but could you maybe do:
The sinclairs, jason voorhees, michael myers, brahms heelshire
Being needy for their gn! S/O and begging for S/O to touch them?
Not forcing or anything you don't have to!
Thank you!!!
Sfw :3
Slashers: The Sinclairs, Michael Myers (young), Jason Voorhees, Brahms Heelshire, Thomas Hewitt
I haven’t written for Michael, Jason or Thomas before.
Slashers who are touched starved.
Bo
Bo wanted to collapse in your arms as soon as he came home late tonight. He took off his boots and hung his hat before crawling upstairs. He snuck into your shared room, smiling when he saw how soft and comfortable you were sleeping. He threw his shirt in the corner and put on his sleeping pants silently.
He was gentle to lay next to you, curling into your back, and laid in your hair. He gave a sleep kiss before taking a hold of you and placing on his chest.
“Bo?” You murmur sleepily as you buried your face in his neck. “What time is it?”
“2:30am,” he drawled heavily, running his hands up and down your back and sides. “Missed ya, sweetness.”
You say something, but he’s too tired to hear. He’s just happy to have you in his arms.
Vincent
His rough hands rest on your hips as he lays his head in the crook of your neck. Working with wax in a hot basement with no look of relief, he’s happy he gets to touch you and love you. He always loved the smell of you and how soft your skin is.
“You okay, lovely?” You asked, your hands running through his hair. “Long morning?”
He whimpers and nods as he hugs tighter, nuzzling into neck.
“Okay, hun,” you whispered, smiling as you said his name,” “Vincent, I’ll be here.”
Lester
After a long day of driving, roadkill, and running visitors to Ambrose, Lester just wants you. He buried his face into your hair and cling onto you. He hugs and rests on your side as you two watch tv, his eyes closed as you run your fingers through his hair. He curls into you and sighs in contempt.
“Long day?” You hummed, and he nods, mumbling something. He buried his face into your shirt.
There’s nowhere else he wanted to be but holding you close.
Michael Myers
He doesn’t understand why he lets his guard down around you. Why he’s less tense and more calmer. He doesn’t understand how you can do it, and it scars him. Him being scared… that doesn’t sit well with him.
But when he took off his mask and let you cup his cheeks, he melts. He falls right into your hands and holds them there. Cursed or damned, he feels free with your touch, and he smiles for the first time since he was a kid.
He moves closer until he has you in his chest, large hands over your head. He closed his eyes and felt human. Felt like the man his mother always wanted and never feared.
Just stay in his arms for a while, y/n. Let him rest in you touch this autumn night.
Jason Voorhees
He’s not one for touches or closeness. Underneath his mask is a hell scape or scars and wounds, and it gotten to the point where he can’t stand to see himself in the mirror. However, when you came to visit at the breach durning the night at the camp, waving at him from shore, he just knew he had to feel your hand in his.
And that wish came true after a few years later and a couple walks on the beach. He finds his hand in yours and your head on his shoulder, talking about tomorrow’s camp actives with archery and trying out the new rock wall. His hands are bigger than yours, but he holds your hand none the less.
One day, he’ll hug you. One day he’ll hold you. For now, simple steps. Simple steps.
Brahms Heelshire
There isn’t a time of day when he’s not by your side. His hand on your hip, head on your chest, touching your shoulders, having you sit on his lap— he needs you all day every day.
At night during the winter, that’s when snuggles come in. He has you curled into his chest as he rubs your back. He looks up at the ceiling then out the window at the snow. He smiles to himself as he glances down at you. He holds you close and drifts to sleep. He’ll never have to face cold nights alone. He’ll never know it again because you’re here.
Thomas Hewitt
His rough hands finds your waist as he buried his face into your neck. Before you can say anything, he spins you around and lift you up. He holds you in the air as if you weigh nothing to him. His upper hand rakes through your hair as he has you rest on his shoulder.
He melts when you hold his face and smile down at him. “Hi,” you whisper, giggling slightly.
He smiles under his mask and leans against you hands, humming to himself. He takes in your scent and relaxes. He didn’t know how much he need to be near you until your smile made his heart flutter and stop.
Do it again and again, over and over, until he thinks about nothing but you.
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bonefall · 5 months
Note
So, I'm writing an essay on the whole STATE of misogyny in WC for one of my university classes, and I was wondering if I could ask you a couple of things! No pressure of course, please feel free to say no!
A) Could I reference your good takes with appropriate harvard referencing and links back to your blog?
B) Are there any specific moments from the books that you think should be covered the most?
C) The end result will be a visual essay, so it's like those fun infographics people on Tumblr make on like ADHD and stuff, so when it's done, would you like to be tagged to read it?
(Sorry for anon, I'm nervous lmao, but if you'd be more comfortable I'll resend this off anon)
AAY good topic! You've got a lot to work with. Absolutely feel free to reference anything I've written, and tag me when you're done.
While you're here and about to write something so legitimate, I'm also going to recommend you check out Sunnyfall's video on gender in Warrior Cats. She breaks down the arcs into numbers, directly comparing the amount of lines mollies have to toms, and examining the archetypes women are usually allowed to be.
I think it's a must-have citation in a paper about WC misogyny.
...and, I think it's insightful to look at the WCRP Forum thread about the video. Note how the respondents immediately come into the thread to complain about how the video is too long so they didn't watch it, dismissing Sunnyfall as not being entertaining enough to hold their attention, even whining that she starts with statistics to prove her point, which I'm convinced she did exactly because they would have cried that she "had no evidence" if she didn't.
I am not a scholar, so I don't know how to document or prove that the books have an impact on the audience outside of anecdotes. But I think if you do write a section about fandom, it would be worth mentioning the in-universe and metatextual apologia for Ashfur and its reflection in the real world discourse, the authorial killing of Ferncloud because of fan complains, and the utter defensiveness against the discussion of misogyny you see outside of Tumblr.
You may also want to check out Cheek by Jowl, a collection of 8 essays about sexism in xenofiction by Ursula K. Le Guin. There's a very unique manifestation of authorial bias in animal fiction, having a lot to do with how the author views "the natural world," and it's worth understanding even though Warrior Cats are so heavily anthropomorphized.
So... Warrior Cats Misogyny
I think discussing individual instances can be helpful, but I'd implore you to keep in mind what's REALLY bad about WC's misogyny is framing and the bigger picture.
Bumble's death is shocking and insulting, but it's not just that she died. It's that the POV Gray Wing sees her as a fat, useless bitch who took his mate so she deserves to be dragged back to a domestic abuser, and he's right because the writers love him so much. It's that Bumble's torture and killing only factors into how it's going to hurt a man's reputation.
It's how Clear Sky hitting, emotionally manipulating, or killing the following women,
Bright Stream (pressured into leaving her home and family)
Storm (controlled her movements and yelled at her in public)
Misty (killed for land, children stolen)
Bumble (beaten unconscious, blamed nonsensically on a fox)
Alder (child abuse, hit when she refused to attack her brother)
Falling Feather (scratched on the face, subjected to public abuse and humiliation)
Tall Shadow (thrown into murderous crowd, attacked on-sight in heaven)
Rainswept Flower ("blacked out" in anger and murdered in cold blood)
Moth Flight (scratched on the face for saying denying medical treatment is mean, taken hostage in retaliation against mother for the death of his own child, which he caused)
Willow Tail (eyes gouged out for "stirring up trouble")
Is seen as totally understandable, forgivable, or not even questioned at all, when killing Gray Wing in an act of rage would have been "one step too far" with the ridiculous Star Line.
"Kill me and live with the memory, and then let the stars know it would only matter if a single one of your murder victims was a man."
It's the way that fathers who physically abuse their kids out of their ego (Clear Sky, Sandgorse, Crowfeather) aren't treated anywhere near the same level of narrative disgust and revulsion the series has for "bad moms", even if they're displaying symptoms of a post-partum mood disorder (depression, anxiety, and rage), an umbrella of mental illnesses 20% of all new mothers experience but are heavily stigmatized with (Sparkpelt, Palebird, Lizardstripe).
It's Crookedstar's Promise giving him two evil maternal figures in a single book, while bending over backwards to make every man in a position of power still look likeable in spite of the fact they're enabling Rainflower's abuse. Leader Hailstar is soso sorry that he has to change Stormkit's name for some reason, in spite of leaders being unaccountable dictators the other 99% of the time, and Deputy Shellheart functionally does nothing to stop his own son from being abused or even do much parenting before or after the fact.
It's the way men's parental struggles are seen sympathetically, and they don't have to "pay for it" like their female counterparts (Crookedstar's PPD vs Sparkpelt's PPD, how Daisy and Cinders are held responsible for Smoky and Whisper being deadbeats, Yellowfang's endless guilt for killing her son vs Onestar's purpose in life to kill his own), even to the point where a father doesn't have to have raised their kids at all to have a magical innate emotional connection to them (Tree's father Root, Tom the Wifebeater, Tigerstar and Hawkfrost).
It's less speaking lines and agency for female characters, being reduced to accessories in the lives of their mates and babies, women getting less diversity in their personalities, with even major ex-POV characters eventually becoming "sweet mom" tropes.
You could zoom in on any one of these examples and have an amoeba try to argue with you that "Oh THIS makes sense because X" or "Ah well my headcanon perfectly explains this thing" or "MY mother/girlfriend was abusive/toxic/neglectful and I've decided that you are personally attacking ME by having issues with how a character was written or utilized," but the beleaguered point,
That I keep trying to hammer in, over and over, across books worth of posts,
Is that these are trends. More than just a couple one-off examples. It's the fabric that has been woven over years, showing a lack of interest in, or even active prejudice of, women on behalf of the writers.
LONG STANDING trends, which have only gotten worse as the series progressed. From Yellowfang being harshly punished with a born evil son who ruins her life in TPB and the mistreatment of Squirrelpaw that begins in TNP, all the way up to the 7 Fridgenings of DOTC and Sparkpelt's PPD being a major character motivator for her son Nightheart.
So, I would stress that in your paper, and structure it less as "the Sparkpelt slide" and "the Yellowfang slide," and more as "The paternal vs maternal abuse" slide, and "the violence against women" slide. They're really big issues, there's tons of examples for each individual thing.
Anyway to leave off on a funny, look at this scene in Darkest Hour that I find unreasonably hilarious,
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"Everyone who matters to me; my truest friend, my sensible and loyal warrior, the wisest deputy I've ever known, and 2 women." -Firestar, glorious idiot
He can't even think of a single trait for either of them what the hell does "formidable pair" mean lmaooo, when I finished a reread about a year ago this line killed me on impact.
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mikwaa · 11 months
Text
Waking up Together
Featuring: Diluc, Zhongli, Kaeya, Childe
Warnings: Sfw, a little suggestive.
Part 2
A/n: I had these headcanons written here so I decided to post them, hope you like it<3
You had fallen into a deep sleep with your boyfriend, Diluc, he had invited you to his house for dinner last night, and you ended up sleeping at his house. That's because you were very tired from doing so many commissions, and today would be your day off. The day had started with rain pouring outside, it had been a rainy night, and apparently so would the day. But you woke up as soon as you felt Diluc get out of bed, this time he would go about his daily business. "Are you going already?" You say weakly and sleepily. "Yes, I have some things to do." He stretches and looks at you with a smile, and gently rubs your face. "Can you stay?" You ask slyly, with pleading eyes, everything was so cozy that you just wanted to cuddle with him during that rainy morning. With a giggle he replies, "How can I say no?" In a matter of seconds he was back in bed, curled up in the sheets together with you.His business dealings could wait. "What more do you want? Cuddles, kisses?" He was saying such sweet things to you, you couldn't help it, the blush already visible on your cheeks. You snuggled into his chest, and he tightened his arms around you. He emanated so much warmth that you forgot it was cold that day. And as soon as he realized that you were comfortable and safe in his arms, he kissed your head and whispered, "Sleep and relax, I'll be here for you, baby." And with those lovely words you just closed your eyes and slept peacefully, just as Diluc fell asleep angelically by your side.
"You promised." Childe protests, the reason he wouldn't let you out of bed was precisely because you had promised to stay with him that day. "I can't with you, you can't stay away from me even for a moment?" You mumble, just kidding, he was always clingy like that, after all, your time together was short. "You're the one who promised, now you have to keep your promise." Now he increased the strength of his grip on you, making it impossible for you to move even an inch. "Okay, okay, I'll stay here with you." You say smiling and defeated, not as if you could compete with him. Snuggling into you, he kisses your neck, giving you a light hickey, and just feeling his warm breath on your neck gives you goosebumps. "You're going to stay with me today, aren't you?" He whispers softly to you, just to confirm. "I don't know, maybe." You even try to keep a serious tone, but all you wanted to do was tease him. Your promise was just to stay in bed with him a little longer, but you wouldn't deny staying the rest of the day fooling around with him. He always wanted a little time with you, whenever he could he would arrange even just five minutes to spend with you. And now that he had the opportunity to spend the day with you, he wouldn't miss it for anything. He teases you back by standing over you and pinning your arms above your head. "Tell me how you're going to get out of here now." "Ajax, you never play fair." You whine, it was a dirty trick to catch you off guard like that. He laughed in an arrogant way and then flashed that naughty smile of his, "You're the one playing dirty." Without giving you an answer, he kissed you, pressing his lips against yours in a thirsty way, immediately filling your mouth with his tongue. His free hand roamed your bare skin without any limitation, just caressing and hovering wherever he wanted. And from the way he was kissing you, apparently his plans to just cuddle with you in bed were gone, his plans were now much more ambitious.
It was still early that morning, but it was almost time for Kaeya to get ready for work. But still he wanted to stay in bed with you, just a little longer. "You'll be late, Jean won't like that one bit." You whisper to him, who frankly didn't care one bit. "Just this once." He whispers back, in the hoarse voice of a newly awakened person. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer. "This is the third time this week alone." You mumble to him as you nestle into his chest. "I know, but what can I do if it feels so good?" His fingers lazily stroked your hair, and you couldn't help yourself, how could you refuse this habit he always gave you? Every time you woke up together it was the same story, you always ended up sleeping a little longer. Even though you also had your commitments, you never refused to be in bed with him. "If we stay here like this, I'll end up sleeping again." You whined. He chuckled, "So you were just thinking about sleeping?" He said playfully, but the teasing tone was obvious. You smirked as you bit your lip, "What else was I supposed to think?" Another laugh, this time with eyes blazing to answer you, but no, he wouldn't answer with words. His answer would be to lift your chin and kiss you, just like that. He smashed his lips against yours, his warm, soft lips that made you want to kiss him for hours. His hand stroked your curves, squeezing here and there, while with the thumb of his other hand he caressed your cheeks. His hot breath beat against your face, just as you felt his heart racing, and you weren't much different. Skin to skin, the indecent touches which in turn showed how intimate you were. He just gave you a moment to catch your breath, not before looking at you with eyes sparkling with lust, "I hope some of your appointments can be postponed today." With sarcasm he says. A mischievous smile appears on your lips as you whisper to him, "My only commitment is here, with you." With that sentence of yours, he just made sure that you and him had other intentions for that morning.
Zhongli was the kind of man who would wake you up with a sweet good morning while kissing you on the forehead as tenderly as possible. Not only that, but he was very careful not to startle you by waking you up. "Did you have a good night's sleep, my darling?" That husky voice that sent shivers down your spine. "Yes, I just wish I could sleep a little longer." A low, weak mumble was all that came out of your mouth as you snuggled against his chest. "You have commissions for today, don't you?" Stroking your hair he asks. You nodded, saying yes. "I really wanted to stay here with you." You say with a pout on your face. He giggles and hugs you even tighter, "Just a few more minutes, I can't be late for work." As always Zhongli was exemplary, he was not late for work even one day. Much less was he absent. And if he was absent, you can be sure it would be for a good reason. "You could stay here with me." You lift your face and look at him, smiling. He caresses your face and then gives you a peck, "It's not appropriate to be late for work. I should always be on time." Archons, the way he was so correct was such a cute thing to see. "What if you're just a little bit late?" At that point a mischievous smile appeared on your lips. As expected, he understood perfectly what you were implying. "I suppose you have a very good reason for making me late." Without answering him directly, you kissed your way from his neck to his chest. His hand was caressing your back gently. "You are such a tease." Between a breathless laugh he murmurs. And with that answer you got on top of him, and he without waiting held your hips to keep you steady. "So that's why you wanted me to stay, my love?" Your heart raced every time he called you by those pet names, "Is it so bad that I want a little more time with you?" Even though it was a simple sentence, he had perfectly understood what you were implying. "Then I'll make the lateness worth it." He pulled you close and gently rubbed his nose against yours, while his hands squeezed your sides. And the way he looked at you so passionately, this morning session wouldn't be over anytime soon. Well, maybe today he wouldn't go to work, his focus would be on you.
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eluxcastar · 4 months
Note
Number 13 and 14 with Arlecchino
Arlecchino being comforted by her s/o
── ୨୧:arlecchino x reader
୨୧﹑synopsis :: arlecchino comfort drabbles yesyes
୨୧﹑genre :: sort of fluff
୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, possibly ooc because it was written pre fontaine quest, not very proofread, arlecchino is implied to have issues with self-image/perception
୨୧﹑words :: 2.2k
"I could see the worst parts of you and still think you are the most beautiful person I've met." "I'm going to ask you how you are and I would like you to answer me honestly."
IT'S HERE you guys always spoil me 13 is my favourite prompt and you are the first of two to request it. completely unrelated but this is so familiar to what Kae said a few days ago (months now omg 😭) when we were talking about One of Repetition and it fits those two so well 😭❤️
to the anon who requested furina it'll take me a minute to figure out how to write her because I haven't played the archon quest but I'll watch some cutscenes and do my best for you
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I'll also be using this because I got it in the middle of writing this and thought it fit the idea I had going super well 🙏 that makes three Arlecchino requests with prompt 13 😭 also second anon you're fine dw you guys are free to do with your requests with these prompts as you like, mix them together, add extra descriptions and rambles it makes it more fun 👍 thank you btw 😭❤ feel free to give yourself a name for future requests if you want ❤️ I love having new anons
prompt list
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It is not often that Arlecchino shows her doubt, maintaining that half-pleasant façade to hide it all. If all people see is a ruthless woman with no regard for loyalty, then the details don't matter. There's no need to question, no need to dwell. She is one thing and nothing more, and she much prefers for nobody to notice the hesitancy in her drastic decisions, the thin-veiled regret as she watches the children she witnessed grow up go on to become valiant children of the Tsaritsa.
If there is anything more, it is disregarded as her unpredictability. She is a roach in the eyes of others, and perhaps she's ok with that…mostly.
To hear someone say "I love you" is strange to her, though it shouldn't be by now.
It shouldn't be unusual to wake up tangled in the sheets with you by her side or the struggle it ends up being to leave that mess as you try to convince her to spend five more minutes with you. It shouldn't be odd to discover that you've gone ahead and made her tea in anticipation of the time she will wake up or to have you remind her every morning that you hung her coat up to dry after she dumped it over the back of a chair the night before or to see you wandering around going about your own job.
But those events all feel surreal to her, even though she has watched you walk your patrol path a thousand times now, and she has seen you slack off where she sits by the window of Zapolyarny when you think nobody is looking.
You are very real, there's no doubt about that.
The things you do never click with her, however.
Perhaps you are real, but she made up these fantasies after watching you loiter by that one spot in the garden a little too long.
Yet every evening, you meet her in her office after you're officially let off for the day, and you usually bring snacks. You are most definitely there, then, as she watches you struggle to get through the door without damaging whatever you found for her to try, usually only small, a pastry you managed to get that you absolutely mustn't knock from your hands.
"I tried to get something that wouldn't make a big mess all over your stuff," you usually say, sometimes hacking on a 6guilty little "But~ these just looked so good…" to try and excuse you for bringing something that would cover her desk in crumbs.
Arlecchino doesn't mind because you went to the trouble of getting her something.
She got you a special chair to pull up and everything, and anyone else who uses it can deal with the death glare they get or find a different one.
But perhaps she made that up too, conjuring the image of someone fumbling their way through her office door to greet her with a smile, sometimes with jam on your mouth from taste-testing the gifts that she'll point out to you that you hurriedly wipe on your sleeve and pretend it was never there.
Maybe she put that chair there for nothing, and it never really moves, and each time she thinks this, she is sure this fantasy will all disappear.
However, every evening, without fail, as the sun begins to set out the window and the room is dyed an orange hue, the door opens, and there you are again. Delusions can't possibly be that persistent, and you would've scowled at her when she approached you in the hallways if you weren't aware of this relationship.
So it must be real, which she's well and truly aware of. There must be a person out there who sees what she cannot, someone who, by some miracle, manages to see past the things that block out all of the good. How can a person see anything but someone unworthy of their love?
What else is there to see? 
The idea of a person who deserves to be loved beneath bloodshed has become unthinkable.
For a person who has been exposed to Arlecchino's worst sins, who has seen everything, and whose worst offence in life is a little laziness on the job, how is it possible to look at her and smile?
Arlecchino often wonders as she watches you. She how you go through your routine of placing your things down, whether on the desk or beside them, then all too happily mosey on off to get your chair and drag it over to sit across from her. She doesn't know why it's this particular day that she asks. Perhaps the fact it was weighing on her mind after a recent mission had her list of redeeming qualities shrinking further and further. It is in her job description, and there are plenty of worse people in this world.
But do you deserve to be stuck with one of them?
"Did you ever feel pressured into accepting my feelings for you?" Arlecchino asks the question so suddenly as you're halfway through walking back with your chair that she sees the exact point you register what she said, freezing in place from the shock. "Whether through status or power," she adds.
You blink a few times before all the motion in your world resumes to greet you with the image of her staring you down from the other side of her desk, patient and waiting for your response. "Sorry?" You let the chair go to return alone to her, standing in the place where you always put it. "I don't, uh…follow? I'm sorry, I just— I'm not sure what you mean?"
She hesitates, momentarily glancing down before her age returns to you and your uncharacteristic expression riddled with worry. She must've made you upset again.
"You want to be in this relationship? With me, that is…" Arlecchino struggles to think of the words, saying them as soon as they appear in her mind. "Even though you know the kind of person I am, you still want that?" 
She studies your face as carefully as she can, watching the way you react as you absorb everything you just heard and assumedly try to put a response together in your head. Arlecchino has noticed before how you take longer to speak than her sometimes, but it tends to make everything you say more thought out, though you may end it like you're unsure.
"Well, I mean…if I didn't, wouldn't I just—" you pause for only a second— "break up with you?" There's silence after you finish. She doesn't say or do anything. To Arlecchino, that strangely almost makes sense, but you must be far too bold to admit that to a Harbinger. "It's not that I want to! I'm a little--…well, I think I'm just a little bit confused where that's coming from."
"I was thinking about it." You frown when she admits that. "Some of the things you have seen of me are…" Is there even a word to encompass that? "unbecoming of a lover."
Is that the right way to phrase it?
Again, you pause, and the telltale signs of consideration cross your face. An intense focus that barely lasts, and Arlecchino waits through it all to allow you your chance to answer, intent on allowing you that much. A few seconds more, and your features relax, looking back at Arlecchino with a tender gaze. "There's not really one 'right way', is there?" Your question, though rhetorical, strikes a chord with the many impulsive responses that flood her mind, all of which she keeps to herself. "You just kind of...try your best. Things might work out, or maybe they don't— the point is that you mean well and put in the work."
"That's not enough," she argues, "you deserve better."
"I deserve what I want." Your rebuttal makes sense in theory, but what do you want? She struggles to make sense of that part, the answer muddled by all of her thoughts and lost in her doubts. 
You could ask anything of her, and she would do it. Any material possession, every feeling, more love than you know what to do with in any form you desire—physical, emotional, intimate—and yet you never do. You accept her awkward hugs, that it takes her time to relax when you lay your head on her chest, the fact she sometimes snores, that her clothes may very well be covered in bloodstains when she comes home depending on uncontrollable circumstances.
You never ask for the things she has plenty of power to give you in return for those flaws.
She shakes her head, "but surely you want more."
"I don't."
"There is a lot wrong that you deserve compensation for." 
Arlecchino clenches the pen in her hand tightly, feeling the slight distress of pressure around it. She can't articulate what, not in the way she understands it; flaws is too broad of a term to use. You would instantly know and understand what she meant in a perfect world, but the world is not so generous.
"Like what?" you question. You feel that it’s obvious that nothing Arlecchino will struggle to say will shake you. She opens her mouth, prepared to refute it, headstrong and frankly stubborn as ever, but nothing comes out.
There is silence for a moment, and no one rebuts what you say. Nobody can. The only other person in the room fights with herself to yield and give in to your unwavering loyalty. In your mind, she is everything you want. There is nothing else you can ask of her than to simply accept that you wish to remain with her if only she will allow you to through her own emotional turmoil.
"Are you listening to what I’m saying?" you ask, frown creeping back onto your face as it tugs the corner of your lips down, seemingly against your will, "I could see the worst parts of you and still think you are the most beautiful person I’ve met."
Another chord is struck, her heart beating so loud it thrums in her ears like suddenly becoming aware it’s been threatening to beat out of her chest the entire conversation. She breathes, shaky and caught up in her own surprise. Somehow, she didn’t expect you to be so sweet in your words or throw her off guard so abruptly. She finds it hard to believe them. Arlecchino’s worries haven’t disappeared, only dwindled. It helps, if not completely. There is a reprieve in listening to you.
You have seen the worst of her, every crease she hasn’t ironed out, her sometimes rotten personality, her stained clothes, the weapons she cleans in your home. You have seen her walk to greet you covered in blood and gore from a savage fight, kneel before you and hold your hand with the same hands she uses to kill vagrants and petty criminals, kiss your skin with those lips that spill the vilest of curses against her enemies.
Before she realises what she’s saying, she blurts out a question, "Do you really believe that?" 
It is quiet, reminiscent of how gently you looked at her earlier as her voice barely breaks a whisper, and she can’t bring herself to break eye contact with you once she finds the courage to make it.
"I do." 
You smile at her, hoping she will smile back. A faint smile graces Arlecchino’s lips, ever the handsome picture. Her sincerity is comforting after such a scare. You still worry, and perhaps you will never stop with the way her mind likes to trick her. How long had she thought you secretly looked at her with disgust this time? You fear you won’t have an answer again, though you desperately wish for one. As much as you notice her awkwardness, dismissing some of it and observing other parts with more scrutiny, it is hard to make her talk to you at times.
"Thank you." It is all Arlecchino can think to say in response as she forgets what else she was going to challenge you on. It will return eventually, and she will face it again, but for now, it settles. Arlecchino can reasonably bury her doubt for a time.
"Can we keep talking?" you ask. 
"About anything," she confirms with a nod.
You turn away, walking across the room in pursuit of retrieving your chair from its designated spot by the wall. You pull it along, dragging it over the floor, and set it down across from her on the other side of the desk you’ve been talking across. Your seat welcomes you as it always does as you settle into place, now comfortably at eye level with her.
"In that case," you begin, taking the pen she holds and wriggling it from her hands. She relinquishes it without much of a fight, allowing you to place it off to the side out of the way. "I’m going to ask you how you are, and I would like you to answer me honestly."
"Anything for you, my love."
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spacebarbarianweird · 6 months
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How about a fic of Astarion not liking his bite mark touched but then Tav does it. 💕
Here we go! Hope you will enjoy it!
The Marks on Our Skin
The bite mark is the only place on Astarion's body Tav doesn't touch. Until now.
Tags: fluff, comfort, f!Tav, established relationship, post-game
Read on AO3
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Headcanons
Astarion finds solace in the late evening hours when the sky still holds a warm glow, but the sun is almost gone down. It's neither day nor night, a perfect in-between that he eagerly anticipates.
Emerging from his tent, he sprawls out on the grass with a book in hand, watching as the sky slowly darkens, revealing the sparkling tapestry of stars above.
Astarion props a bag beneath his head, and the fingers trace the cover of the book, its surface still bearing the faint marks of dried blood. A soft smile tugs at his lips as he recognizes Tav's scent.
Astarion opens the book and makes a mental note to convince Tav to learn how to read. He sets the book aside and chooses another, its pages also marred by blood, though not Tav's this time. The text is written in the archaic elven dialect, a challenging puzzle that demands his full concentration. Yet, as he delves into the words, the text starts sounding familiar. As if he already read it, many years ago, when his eyes weren't red and sun didn't burn.
Unwanted memories and thoughts creep into his mind, stubborn as vermin, and no matter how hard he tries, he can't divert his focus.
"How's my favorite man doing?" a loud voice yanks him away from the abyss he had started to slip into.
Tav.
She walks unsteadily, like someone who's had enough to drink, not to think clearly but can still stand on two feet.
"I thought you went to search for quests, not for a drink," he says without any hint of accusation. Tav collapses beside him, and he catches a whiff of ale.
"Are you drunk?"
"No. Well, maybe a little." She giggles and nuzzles into his collarbone. "What's four mugs of ale for a warrior like me?"
He chuckles. "Considering your body type, it's quite a lot."
Tav focuses, attempting to devise something clever to say, but gives up. She presses her body closer to him, and Astarion can feel her heart beating.
"It's very inconsiderate of you to get drunk without me," he teases, studying her face. A soft smile graces his lips as he cannot tear his gaze away from her.
"You can drink my blood, and then we can get drunk together," she playfully suggests.
"I'm not going to feed on you until you get sober," he plants as tender kiss on her forehead.
"Alright, alright, next time, I won't go alone," she concedes. "What if someone wants to harm me or hit on me? You'll need to show them to who I belong to."
He chuckles, reminiscing about the first few months of their journey when he cringed at her casual remarks about belonging to him.
"No, you're not mine," he would protest. "You're not my possession, not my spawn, not my … anything. You're an independent person. Please don't say things like that."
Over time, he understood that Tav's words aren't meant to diminish her self-worth. It is simply an innocent joke between two genuinely free individuals in love. It is her way of reassuring him that she isn't going anywhere, even when Astarion questions his own value in her eyes.
As Tav tilts her chin upward, a subtle flinch passes through him, a reminder of the bite mark they have agreed not to touch.
"I like your bite mark," she drunkenly admits.
He pulls away, and her head falls onto the grass. "Tav, what in the sweet hells are you talking about?"
"I love your bite mark," she repeats. "It proves how strong you are. Did you notice it's not just fangs? It's also incisors. The bastard was so hungry and desperate for prey that he almost gnawed a part of your neck. It shows how strong you are that despite all the horrors and pain, you never gave up."
Tav yawns, her eyes half-closed. Astarion is sure it wasn't just four mugs of ale. She probably remembers drinking only four. The rest is the mystery.
His fingers tenderly brush against her cheek as he asks, "Do you truly mean all that?"
Tav's eyes meet his, her response unwavering. "I do."
He rises to his feet, carefully lifting Tav into his arms, and carries her into the tent. He lays her gently on the bedroll. It seems like they aren't going anywhere this night. Anyway, he has some books to finish reading,
Astarion lovingly tucks Tav beneath her blanket, ensuring she is shielded from the chill of the night.
"Little Star"
"Hm?"
"Can I touch your bite mark?"
He hesitates. It is the only part of his body Tav hasn't touched yet.
"Yes."
He doesn't understand why he agrees. But it's already too late to take away the permit.
Sitting up, a silly smile plays on her lips as she wraps her hands around his neck. With an unexpected boldness, she presses her lips against the scar on his neck. He can feel the touch of her tongue, the graze of her own incisors against his skin, almost as if she is trying to drink his blood.
As Tav releases him, she nestles on her bedroll and dozes off peacefully.
Astarion remains in the tent, keeping a watchful eye over Tav. When hunger gets too strong to bear, he ventures into the woods to hunt.
When he returns before the sun rise, his hunger satiated, and his strength renewen, Tav is still asleep.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Tav exclaims when she realizes it is already afternoon. "Now we'll have to wait the whole day before hitting the road again."
"That's alright, darling. I hope you had fun yesterday. I don't remember ever seeing you so wasted."
"I remember fighting someone who said she'd kill every vampire she came across."
"Did you win?"
"I'm sorry! I should be offended by the mere suggestion that I could lose in a tavern brawl!" She crawls closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder, her tone turning more serious. "Did I hurt you yesterday?"
"No," he assures.
"Really? I mean, do you say it because you mean it, not just to spare my feelings? It would make me sick if I crossed your boundaries and made you feel… bad."
"Everything is alright. I mean it."
"Can I do this again?"
He nods. Tav kisses his bite mark. Again and again, and he completely melts in her hands.
Astarion marvels at the simple ministration and how it brings him such bliss. He has little faith in gods or divine rewards, knowing nothing could compensate for what happened to him. And yet…
There is Tav. Tav, for whom he wants to be a better version of himself. Tav who caresses his scars and makes the pain fade. Tav, whose blood is, in a way, divine.
Tav eventually pulls away and invites him to lay his head on her lap. "Will you read to me?" she asks.
"The book with bloody fingertips?" he inquires.
"Yep. What's this book about?"
"It's a collection of fairytales for elven children."
Tav's eyes glisten. "Exactly what I need with my hangover."
Astarion opens the book and begins reading. Tav starts massaging his scalp and occasionally lightly touches the bite mark. Sometimes, when he pauses and looks up, he finds Tav's eyes focused on his face.
Those are simple stories. About heroes, magic, dragons, monsters. Naïve. Stupid. Childish. But Tav likes them. In the same way, she likes a good fight, ale, and nights of passion.
Moreover, he can't help but think Tav is similar to these fairytale heroes. She is the hero who protects him, who makes him better. Who gives him all the hope he needs to survive the day.
And he will do anything to make her happy and safe.
"Tav," he whispers.
"Yes, my heart?" she replies.
"I love you."
Tav kisses his forehead "Well, I will never grow tired of hearing that from you."
---
Tag list
@tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster @astarionsbeloved @lumienyx @fayeriess @aoirohi
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