#I’m not looking to debate or fight I just want to share my ideas

[legendl0re]

I’ve been thinking a lot about out how ACOTAR is actually a tragedy if you think about it in the perspective of Feyre losing her entire self when she died at the end of the first book, and I came to an interesting conclusion about how I would have wanted that to be explored.

I wish Feyre had a friend, like a genuine human friend she made in the village that knew who Feyre was and what Feyre wanted before she was taken into Prythian. Who would have gone alongside Nesta to the wall to find her, and was left behind when Tamlin gifted the Archerons their new wealth. In all the time the sisters spent in the village, I find it hard to believe the only connection she ever formed was with some mediocre lay named Isaac.

And when Feyre comes back, changed and mated to Rhysand, she tells his friend everything that happened to her, from the forced lap dancing to the subterfuge to the breakdown of her relationship with Tamlin to the machinations and manipulations of Rhysand, and at the end of the story…her friend is utterly horrified.

She points out how Rhysand’s “choices” were all previously picked out for her, how fucked the ring hunt in the weaver’s cottage was, asks questions about why he doesn’t manage his court properly (ie: enforcing the wing clip ban and helping the women of the Hewn City)

Obviously a peasant in the village may not know the intricacies of governance or fey politics but humor me, maybe the Archerons aren’t the only former nobles to fall from grace, or maybe the peasant just knows shit, but more to the point.

She points out the nightmare that Feyre’s been conditioned to live in, as she now is able to regain the human perspective that she lost upon being reborn through another person. Because damn if ACOTAR isn’t a tragedy about OG Feyre actually died UTM, and this new Feyre was entirely different.

This would truly give her the chance to reconcile how embroiled in the chaos of Prythian’s politics she has become, with a friend to help her remember how she was and what she wanted.

And shit, that doesn’t even mean that Feyre has to do anything with that information. She could be perfectly content with the world she’s in and being with the IC and Rhys, but her friend would realize that the old Feyre is gone, and someone can mourn her.

At least then the novel acknowledges that A) Feyre has changed drastically in her metamorphosis from human or fey and B) Give a connect to the human world that we actually give a shit about, because the mortal queens ain’t it.

Just a thought

[flemingsfreckles]

Morning After

Synopsis: you wake up to a cold bed and find your girlfriend outside reading (aka I found that middle photo of Jessie from months ago and this was my first little blurb idea)

Warnings: suggestive, that’s it

WC: 1.3k just a little guy 🤏

A/N: I’m having big time lack of motivation and writers block recently, this came about when I was cleaning out my camera roll solely because of that photo. I might try to do more short, 1-1.5k pieces to see if that helps get some creative juice back.

You have no idea what time it is when you roll over and squint at the harsh bright light coming in through the window. Turning over you expect to see a pair of brown eyes and a freckled face, instead you get an empty pillow. Sure it was a little disappointing not getting to see your girlfriend’s beautiful face first thing in the morning, but it wasn’t unusual. You had slept over before and Jessie was an early riser, she’d be up before you, cooking breakfast or making a coffee. But part of you had just expected after the night the two of you shared that she’d be lying next to you when you woke up.

You walk out of the bedroom, Jessie’s shirt across your chest and a pair of her sleep shorts around your waist. Unsure if Niamh was home yet you scan the hallway before heading out into the living room. Niamh knew about you and Jessie but you’d make yourself more presentable if she was home. That’s when you find Jessie, she’s sitting outside on the balcony. The door is cracked and you can feel the cool morning air coming inside. She’s sitting in a chair, her back to you. You can see her curls resting on the back of her neck, the black hoodie she’s wearing, she’s looking down toward her lap.

As you walk further into the room you’re able to take in more of the sight of your girlfriend, she’s reading, a book clasped between her hands, a pen and notepad on the table. Also on the table is a cup of what you could assume to be her morning coffee and her water bottle. She looked peaceful, just enjoying the morning sun and her book, you almost didn’t want to disturb her.

And while you didn’t want to disturb her at the same time you did, you wanted to take the book out of her hands and drag her back to bed where the two of you could cuddle, skin on skin, gentle touches across each other's arms and backs, soft kisses all while fighting the urge to fall asleep in her arms again.

You take another step while still debating if you wait for her to notice you or if you say something and pull her attention away from her book. The floorboard makes the decision for you, creeping loudly as you shift your weight onto it. Jessie’s head whips around. When she sees you she smiles and closes the book in front of her.

“Good morning.” She’s still sitting looking at you through the cracked door.

“Good morning.” You try to fight the overwhelming urge to grin like an idiot at her. You can feel the start of a blush rising on your cheeks, you look to the floor.

“How’d you sleep?” Jessie asks.

“Good, you?”

“Also good, sorry I didn’t mean to leave you alone in bed, just I woke up an hour or so ago, I knew if I stayed in bed I’d just want to wake you up.”

“It’s okay, I wasn’t worried.” It’s true you weren’t, maybe in other relationships, waking up to an empty bed after sharing your bodies for the first time the night before would have made you nervous, not with Jessie. You hadn’t expected her to be far, maybe in the kitchen, maybe on a run, at the store, but you knew she wouldn’t have left completely. You had a different level of trust with her.

“Good.”

When you don’t respond, unsure of what to say to the girl, she stands up, pushing in her chair and makes her way to stand next to you, the floorboard creaking again as her weight moves on it. She reaches to grasp your hand with her own, gently playing with your fingers.

“I had a really good time last night.” She says softly, trying to make eye contact with you, your eyes choosing to look at where her hand held yours. Watching the way her fingers soothed over your own while keeping your eyes off of her.

“Me too.” You feel the blush growing and the flutter of your stomach start. You and Jessie had been officially together for a few months and much to Niamh and your teammates annoyance, pinning over each other for years before that. Everyday she made your head spin and your heart jump. From the simple things like a sweet good morning kiss when she’d pick you up for training, or when she’d put her hand on your thigh while driving, how she’d wink at you across the pitch when no one else saw. You were completely infatuated with the woman.

Last night the two of you were able to explore the extent of your physical relationship, Niamh finally being away for a few days, leaving Jessie’s place to be empty, giving you and Jessie the perfect excuse to finally fall into bed together for different reasons than sleep. It had been sweet, soft, and slow with Jessie and she had left you blushing and red cheeked for more reasons than one last night.

“Do you want coffee? Tea? Food?” Jessie released your hand and walked toward the kitchen.

“Coffee would be nice.” You followed her into the kitchen watching as she grabbed coffee out of the cabinet before moving over to another cabinet to grab you a mug. She turned her back to you and headed over to start the coffee maker. You stand, leaning against the counter as you watch her move around. She catches your eye every few moments making you both give sheepish smiles. After a few fleeting glances Jessie comes up to you, gently placing her hands on your face and bringing your lips to hers.

The sigh she lets out when your lips connect has a flash of heat running through you, all too reminiscent of your evening last night. Jessie’s hands come to your back before gently making their way down to your butt before she breaks the kiss to move her hands to the backs of your thighs. “Jump.”

You do as she says and next thing you know your thighs are coming into contact with the cold countertop as Jessie lifts you onto it. You lean down to connect your lips again, missing the feeling. When you pull away Jessie is looking up at you, wide eyed and smiling.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” Jessie’s pulling you down slightly so that she can whisper in your ear.

“Yeah.” You turn, putting your lips against her ear, whispering back.

You hear Jessie take a shaky breath before she exhales and speaks at the same time. “I love you.”

You hear the words and immediately pull back to look at her face, only this time it’s her who’s shying away, tucking her head into your chest. You gently pull on her chin, trying to get her to look at you but she stays firm, fighting your grasp to keep her face buried into you.

“Jessie.” She doesn’t budge. “Babe.” You give her another gentle push, this time she gives in pulling back from you. Her cheeks are red, a look of worry across her face, her eyes glued to your lap. You lean into her, tilting her chin up to put your lips against her ear. “I love you.” You whisper back to her.

“Yeah?” Jessie looks up at you, you can practically see the relief wash over her body, her shoulders releasing their tension, a smile finding its way to her lips.

“Yeah, I love you.” You confess to her before leaning down to give her a quick kiss.

“I love you.” She says it again, making both of you smile. You sit for a moment, letting the reality sink in, you were in love with her and she was in love with you. It’s then that you look over and see the long abandoned coffee beans.

“I’d maybe love you more if you made me that coffee.”

[emmyrosee]

*hoping this is the inbox lol

I’d like to request something for Bakugo, if you haven’t done something similar already!

the scenario could be something like, the reader is on her way home at nighttime to their + Bakugo’s shared apartment and she starts to feel like someone (or a villain) is following her, so she starts trying to subtly contact him (before the villain knows she’s onto them) and eventually needs to start calling/running because the follower/villain is directly starting to attack.

Bakugo could probably be waiting for the reader to get back home and wondering why they’re taking so long, or also on his way back from work as he gets the messages. Reader may/may not get hurt or taken, lol.

but yeah overall, I am in my feels for dramatic and protective Bakugo 🤧 sorry if it sounds too specific, I’m not holding ya to that at all, just sharing the overall idea and would love to see your take!

I hope you have a great day/evening!!

tw // insinuated attacks with NO intense details, angst, dangerous situations, no comfort.

———-

SENT please, for the love of all that is holy, answer me

katsuki im so scared rn Please

im sorry about earlier

But now is not the time to be petty

Katsuki please

Please

whatever happens I love you

I love you so much

you were the greatest thing that ever happened to me.

You’d gotten into a fight this morning.

It was over something minuscule, about throwing away the empty cartons of milk, but apparently it was more than enough to upset Katsuki to the point of silencing your notifications. It had been building up for weeks, little jabs here and there until of course, this morning.

But now’s not a good time for him to not take the high road.

Not when there’s someone only twenty paces behind you, walking step for step with you. Fear grips your heart as you try to muster the courage to face them, so you keep your head down and spam Katsuki with as many messages as your fingers can.

Every once in a while, they clear their throat, just to remind you that they’re there, they’re right behind you and dare you to say or do anything to make them pounce. You don't want to risk it, not when there's no one around to help you. No witnesses, no cameras you know of, nothing to keep you any semblance of safe, only you and your mental gymnastics of debating on confronting the culprit head on, or continue this predator and prey game. You could duck in this little alcove, the alleyway adjacent to you, in an attempt to get away.

You clear your throat. You spin on your heel.

“Is there a problem?”

You choose to face the situation, heart beating faster than an engine, and hands clenched into fists. You wait for your phone to do something, vibrate, chime, ring, anything. But nothing happens.

Katsuki isn’t coming.

The terror looks at you and shrugs, “no, no problem. Why?”

“Because you are directly behind me, breathing down my neck.”

“I was trying to go around you,” they say simply.

You furrow your brows and clench your fists, “then fucking walk around me. Go.” You step to the side and extend your arm out, gesturing them to keep walking. “Go. Go around.”

They click their tongue and shake their head, taking strides to get past you, with their hands jammed into their pockets. You watch with frightened eyes as they approach, ready to fight back when need be.

They pause right in front of you. Your heart leaps in your chest.

“Ain’t anyone ever taught you beware of alleys?”

The world slows down as you watch a massive hand dart up to your face, grabbing your maw and forcing you in the alley, keeping you from screaming. They jam you deeper inside, and your vision blurs with tears of fear as the streetlights grow smaller the farther they move you into the alley.

Your phone clatters to the ground as your adrenaline kicks up, and bile rises in your throat.

This is it, isn’t it?

bk 🩵 the fuck?

What’re you on about?

Why’re you scared?

Im with deku, my phone was off

What the fuck

No, you’re going to answer me

Right now.

You think I’m playing?

Where are you

Babe, please

You’re scaring me

I love you. I’m sorry I yelled

But you need to answer me

You’re okay you’re fine we’re fine

We’re on our way I got your location

Stay put. Don’t you fucking move

[m00nlight-ramblings]

Before the Happiness

After developing feelings for Astarion, it becomes clear to you that this is uncharted territory...and not just for you.

Pairings: Astarion x female Tav

Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, dual pov. MINORS DNI, 18+

Word Count: 4.4k

Requested: yes

A/N: Graphic made by me, I do not give permission to share it without asking.

The conversation and laughter around you had lulled to a dull roar as the night sky darkened. Sitting diagonal from Astarion at the campfire, you watched his lips move, almost in slow motion. You couldn’t focus on anything else – the rest of the party were conversing over bottles of wine that you all had found earlier in an abandoned village’s pub. Deciding to stay in the same campsite for two days as an extended rest, Karlach and Gale had the big idea of taking it easy and getting drunk – “to relax, and build morale!” Karlach had claimed.

Too bad you couldn’t take your eyes off of the fair-haired vampire across from you.

What started as an innocent crush – who could blame you, with Astarion being so cocky, and so charming, and so handsome? – quickly turned into something more. Now, you were unfortunately dealing with what you were sure was an unrequited love on one of Faerun’s biggest lady killers.

Figuratively, and literally.

“What say you, Tav?” Wyll asked, elbowing you gently. Snapping you back to reality, you immediately brought your goblet of wine up to your lips to buy yourself some time.

“Sorry, what?” You asked Wyll, keeping your gaze on your goblet. You felt a blush creeping to your lips…hopefully, no one had noticed your total focus on Astarion.

“Gale here was just saying that he could easily have taken on that hoard of goblins we came across this morning by himself!” Wyll chuckled, nodding towards Gale, “Him! Against 20 goblins himself! I say bullshit.”

“Now, now,” Gale interrupted, readying to defend himself, “I said if I had the proper time to prepare my spells correctly, I could easily fight against them-”

“Well, of course, if you had time to properly prepare for battle, you are more able to fight,” Shadowheart retorted, rolling her eyes, “But that’s not the point of battle.”

“Well…” You started as the party erupted into conversations about the designs of battle. As mini discussions started, you swept your eyes across the rest of the party, all who were animatedly debating whether they were for or against Gale’s point.

All, except for Astarion.

Once your eyes met his, you were locked on. He was absentmindedly swirling the wine in his goblet, his eyes unwavering against yours. Face completely unreadable, he caused heat to rise in you. You looked away quickly, only to check again to see if he was still looking at you.

He was.

You felt panic start in your fingertips as you gulped down the rest of your wine and immediately put your goblet down next to you. Standing, you wiped your hands on your pants.

“I’m going for a walk – I need some air.” You announced to no one (as they were still engulfed in their can-Gale-fight-20-goblins discussion). Without hesitation, you made your way to the creek a little bit beyond your campsite. Through the trees, the only noise was the fading of voices and the snapping of twigs beneath your camp boots. Finally reaching the creek, you were able to breathe out a sigh of relief, leaning against the nearest tree.

Your infatuation with Astarion was a point of panic for you – having never been in love (nor never had a partner before), you found yourself in undiscovered territory. You spent your whole life training as a fighter, not a girlfriend. So of course, the irony of it all would be that your first love would be a man who had so much experience, he would make the employees at Sharess’ Caress blush. He also happened to be a man that, though kind enough, wasn’t exactly a buddy. Astarion wouldn’t be the first person you’d reach out to in times of trouble at camp, no matter how much you wanted to. You and Astarion hadn’t had any talks where you were able to divulge your backstories – the only thing you knew about him was that he was a vampire, and his past with Cazador, really.

Oh, and that he was really, absurdly sexy.

You had only hoped that the others around you – especially Astarion – didn’t notice the extra time you spent staring at his face when you hoped no one was watching. Or the fact that your laugh was the loudest when he told funny stories around the campfire. Or that when travelling, you often found yourself walking near him.

“Are you alright?” A voice asked, forcing your eyes to pop open. You whipped around from the tree, finding Astarion step out from behind the forest. A friendly smile played on his lips, putting your thundering heart at ease slightly.

“Oh…yes, I’m fine. Thank you…I think I’ve had too much wine.” You said, quickly making up an excuse, “I guess my body has forgotten how to drink since we started this journey…since…we haven’t really had any wine…since…we started journeying.”

Smooth.

Astarion let out a chuckle, meeting you at the tree you were leaning against. “Ah yes, that makes…sense.” He paused the same way you had. You locked eyes and he broke out in a smile, and you realized he was teasing you. Your heart sped.

“You know what I mean…” You grumbled, kicking a rock in front of you and blushing.

“Yes, yes. I certainly do,” He paused for a moment, looking out at the creek. He didn’t speak, and you were suddenly aware of how loud the running of the water was. “I was worried about you when you ran off so suddenly. I was hoping you weren’t feeling ill.”

“Oh! Oh, no, I’m fine,” You felt flustered – Astarion? Worried about you? “Thank you, though…for checking on me.”

His eyes flickered down to your lips for a split second before returning to your eyes. For a moment, his eyes seemed to change…were they darker somehow? But he blinked, and they returned to his normal ruby red. He raised his eyebrows and he nodded, gracefully slipping his hands into his pants pockets. “You are welcome.”

“I’m feeling better, if you wanted to walk back to the campfire…with me?” You asked hesitantly. Gods, he was just a man! He wasn’t some sort of monstrous creature…so why did he make you so nervous?

Smiling, Astarion raised his arm as if to say, lead the way, “After you.”

You nodded and walked past him, ready to shake off your nerves. You committed to yourself to go back to the campfire and not look at Astarion once. You needed to be objective about your feelings towards him, no matter how strong they were. After all, you all had a mission to complete, and falling in love would simply get in the way. Leave your thoughts of Astarion when you were alone in your bed, drifting off to sleep – not when you were needed to be present.

Suddenly, Astarion gently grabbed your wrist. His fingers were ice cold as you expected, but it still sent a shiver down your spine. “I want to say something to you.” He started. You felt a lump in your throat, unable to speak. You simply nodded, your nerves making you unable to look at him.

“I have noticed that you and I haven’t been able to…get to know each other as much as the others,” His voice, barely above a whisper, was confident and sultry. “I would like that to change. I do enjoy your company very much. And after all, who knows how long we will be spending with each other until we can reclaim our minds from these wretched tadpoles, no?”

You swallowed and nodded, turning to look at him. His eyes glittered, mischievously. His signatured smirk was on his face as he slowly let go of your wrist. Somehow, his icy fingers left your skin burning.

“I would like that,” You eventually say, over the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears, “I also enjoy your…” Gulp. “Company.”

“Wonderful,” Astarion said. “Well, now that that’s settled, let’s get back to camp, shall we?” And even though he originally had you lead the way, he started off to camp first, leaving you a few steps behind.

Not that you minded…you obviously had to use this time to collect your thoughts.

Astarion wasn’t quite sure what had come over him at the party’s get-together the previous evening, but once he had seen you (very obviously) fixating on him from across the fire, something in him snapped.

Sure, he had noticed you immediately when he had joined the party – your kind eyes, and beautiful hair. Not to mention your lyrical laugh, and curvy body…the same one where, the mere thought of could keep him up all night…

It was safe to say he had developed strong feelings for you, so Astarion decided to do what he did best – keep a safe distance, and play it cool. There was no way romance and love and feelings would be a good idea in any sense.

Especially when he knew that your feelings were probably just lust.

Love was something so far from Astarion’s lexicon, he couldn’t even remember the last time he felt it. No one could ever love him – not after everything he had done, or even because of who he was. Worthless, disgusting, abysmal…there weren’t enough words to describe Astarion’s shortcomings.

Astarion was very aware of what many others thought of him – his only redeeming quality to the world was his looks, so the idea that people only wanted to fuck and leave was not a new concept. Though he couldn’t necessarily get himself into that particular situation all that much while under Cazador (though he somehow was able to sneak away for an hour or two while completing a mission), he saw how people looked at him on this journey.

It would’ve been flattering to him if he didn’t hate himself so much.

So the idea that your feelings – which were always written all over your face – could be any more than a fantasy of bedding him, was preposterous. Up until now, Astarion would be able to push that aside for a night or two in order to satiate his (and your) need to get off, but something inside him told him that his feelings would get in the way. His fantasies about you weren’t just sexual…sometimes, his mind wandered to holding you in his arms, or simply eating a meal with you by the campfire.

Or even worse…a future with you. One that didn’t include tadpoles and battles, but of sleeping in a fluffy bed with you on a Sunday morning; of going to the town market together to complete your errands, and of owning a cat with you.

Which, truth be told, scared him more than anything.

So when he found himself following you to the creek after you had left the campfire that evening without even thinking about it, he knew he was in trouble. Gone was any sense in his brain; instead, he knew his heart was taking over, and for whatever reason, he decided to go along with it. Maybe it was because his feelings were too strong, or that he couldn’t help himself, but he knew he needed to finally be around you more.

Even if that meant you wanted nothing more than a dirty fuck.

A few days after the night at the campfire (and - surprise, surprise - another night of drinking the following evening), you found yourself once again headed towards Baldur's Gate, party and belongings in tow. Since then, you and Astarion had fallen into your familiar rhythm of what seemed like standoffishness, but now with more smiles and pleasantries peppered in. Which, was more than okay with you, since the very idea of Astarion becoming close seemed to scare you.

However, your heart couldn't help but flutter when the surprisingly flirty remark Astarion made was thrown your way. So much so that you didn't mind the curious glances from Lae'zel, or Gale.

"C'mon, you have to tell us!" Karlach pleaded while on the road, her voice a hoarse whisper as to not draw attention, "What is going on between you and Astarion?! Don't think I didn't notice, soldier...him running after you the other night? And now he's flirting with you...complimenting you?! The others may not be noticing all that much, but I certainly am!"

You laughed nervously and swatted your hand in the air as if to say, it's nothing! "Oh, you know Astarion. He flirts with everyone!"

"Yeah, but this is the first time he's flirting with you," Karlach retorted. "Which, took long enough since Gods, you're hot! But, don't think I haven't noticed the change in attitude between you two."

A blush crept to your face as you felt yourself unable to look away from the back of Astarion's head, who was walking a few paces ahead of you, discussing something with Halsin very intently. Your mind wandered to other things as your eyes scanned his body...his back, his behind...how both of them would look naked.

"Alright, I'm leaving you to whatever weird fantasy is currently going on in that brain of yours, okay?" Karlach finally said, pulling you out of your daydream. She playfully shoved your shoulder and walked faster, stepping in line with Shadowheart at the front of the pack. As she passed, Astarion slowly turned his head to look at you, Halsin still blabbering away in his ear. Your heart leapt to your throat as you locked eyes with him.

He had definitely heard.

The night had fallen silently, the only noise in camp being crickets chirping away. The oil lamp in your tent flickered as you pulled the blanket on your bed closer to your body. The book you were reading was propped up in your lap, and you reveled in the peace of the evening - retiring to your tent early, you heard exactly when everyone else had gone to sleep. Sure, you probably should have been sleeping already since Wyll insisted on an early morning start, but you wanted to enjoy your book for just a few more moments.

Suddenly, a rustling came from the front of your tent, the sound of someone announcing themselves.

"It's me," Astarion's voice called, "Are you decent?"

"Um-" You threw the book closed and swept the blanket off of you in a panic, though there was literally nothing to panic about. Rising from the bed quickly, you started to pace your tent, "Yes. Come in."

The flap to your tent was quickly undid and thrust open. Astarion strode in and redid the flap with ease. He looked down, and once he realized you had enchanted your tent with a wooden floor, slipped off his camp shoes. When he looked back up at you, he smiled.

"Good evening, darling."

"Good evening." You said, holding your hands behind your back. You plastered a smile on your face, trying to suppress the urge to smooth your hair. A moment of silence passed by before you snapped into action, "Would you like to sit?" You asked, motioning to your bed.

"Ah, yes. Thank you." Astarion said awkwardly, moving towards the bed. He sat at the far corner, causing you to sit at the opposite side.

How funny...with how badly you wanted to jump his bones, you'd think you wouldn't be on basically the other side of the world.

"Well, darling, I just came here tonight to...see how you were doing?" Astarion started, looking at you. You couldn't help but smile as he leaned back on the footpost of your bed.

"How I'm doing?" You clarified.

He nodded, "Yes, as friends do. That's what we're working towards," He paused, his eyes flickering down your body. Then, his eyes did the thing - darkened slightly, causing an indescribable look to cross his face.

Suddenly, you recognized that it wasn't an indescribable look.

It was lust.

"Friends, correct? That's what we're looking for." He finally finished, meeting your eyes again. This time, his eyes stayed dark, running his tongue quickly over his lips to moisten them.

You heart began to thud and you shifted in your nightclothes, arousal springing in your belly. Just Astarion's look alone and you were suddenly putty in his hands.

"Y-yes. Friends...that's what we are." You quietly confirmed. Feeling bold - you couldn't believe that Astarion was feeling lustful towards you! Could it be a mistake? - you scooted a bit closer and leaned in slightly, "Unless you had...other plans."

Astarion smirked and cocked and eyebrow, mirroring your body language by scooting closer. "Darling...are you coming on to me?" His voice was low, floating to your ears. You began to feel warm, a bit of sweat pooling on your brow. "If so...well, that changes everything."

"Does it now?" You murmured, staring at his lips. Your boldness surprised you - you were surprised that the first time you took a chance with Astarion was working in your favor.

Not that you were complaining.

As your heart started to beat faster, Astarion slid closer to you, closing the gap between your bodies. His hand slowly snaked up your side, his pointer finger lightly tracing your thigh. He moved in, his lips mere inches from yours.

"Say the word", He said, his voice ringing in your ears, "And tonight, I'm yours. But I will not continue unless you say it."

Your belly pooled with heat, and you couldn't contain yourself, no matter how nervous you were, "Then be mine tonight."

At once Astarion was on top of you, his lips pressed against yours. Spreading his legs so that yours were in between his, he pressed himself down on your body, his erection already prominent. You moaned into the kiss, causing him to deepen it.

"Astarion," You breathed as he pulled away slightly, starting to push your sleep shirt up from the bottom. He smiled as he quickly looked into your eyes, finally finding your lips with his again.

"If this is what friendship means for us, then I cannot wait to get closer." He spoke teasingly, his words sloppy, encased in your lips. You giggled through the kiss and suddenly gasped as you felt his cold hands on your sides, under your shirt.

You heart raced as your hands found their way to Astarion's shirt, pulling it above his head. You ran your fingers down his chest, taking in the sight before you. He paused, obviously loving the attention. A smirk played on his lips as he pushed your shirt above your head, eyes widening as your bare chest was finally on display.

"Gods, you're gorgeous." He purred, maintaining eye contact as he slowly lowered his head to latch his lips on to one of your erect nipples. You immediately moaned as his tongue swirled around your breast, leaving evidence of saliva around your nipple.

"Fuck, Astarion." You grumbled, your back arching into his mouth. He smiled but continued with his mouth, his hands finding their way to your soft pants. Without ties or buttons, Astarion was able to easily push them down, and you helped by kicking them off of your ankles.

"Darling, I can't wait to take you all in," He said, his mouth rising to yours again. One of his hands found its way to your neck, holding on to the side, while resting on his elbow. His other hand met your clit, immediately rubbing circles, "You're already so wet." He chuckled.

"You feel so good," You retorted as an explanation. Your thoughts were swimming overwhelmingly - you couldn't believe you were finally in bed with Astarion. You had fantasized about this moment basically since you had met him, and being here felt better than you could have ever imagined.

Say the word, and tonight, I'm yours. His words rang in your brain, causing your face to flush even more.

Tonight.

Tonight.

But what about after tonight?

You hadn't much experience with lovers, aside from the few and far between "relationships" as a teen, so you didn't know what was supposed to happen after this night. Were you supposed to go back to normal...as friends?

Suddenly, a pang of panic spread through you - the idea of going back to normal, as just friends, was painful to you. Here you were, with Astarion finally as a lover, someone you've come to care for deeply.

How deep it was going to hurt if you couldn't continue on with him. How deep it would hurt if you gave yourself to him like that, only to have him take you and discard you.

You snapped back to reality, realizing that many moments of silence from you had gone by. You hadn't even felt anything Astarion was doing, and he noticed, quizzically looking at you while continuing to work on your clit. You felt anxiety rise to the surface violently, and you suddenly sat up in the bed.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, stop. Stop!" You said, immediately criss-crossing your legs. Astarion, shocked, sat back on his knees, his glistening chest heaving.

"I'm sorry! Did I do something wrong?" His lips were full and swollen, his eyes wide. You recognized the look of fear on his face, causing your heart to drop.

"I can't do this," You spoke frantically, sighing heavily. "I'm sorry I just...can't."

"Oh...kay," Astarion spoke slowly, seemingly afraid to startle you, "What's wrong?"

Your thoughts were still jumbled, the anxiety still at the surface, "I just...I just can't have you dismiss me after tonight!" Your voice was shrill, you knew it, but you couldn't stop.

Confused, Astarion slid closer. He was quiet for a moment, handing over your blanket. You took it, covering yourself, silently thanking him for the gesture.

"'Dismiss' you?" He asked, tilting his head to the side, "What do you mean, 'dismiss' you?"

"You know..." You said, almost panting from the panic, "Dismiss me! Like your...your other lovers!" You waved your hand in the air to accentuate the point, "Here I am, with true, deep feelings of love for you, and all I am to you will be another notch in your bedpost!" You sighed, finally catching your breath, "And I know I said yes to this, but truth be told I am not...experienced...with someone who is as experienced as you, and I know I said yes because I couldn't help myself due to my feelings for you. But I cannot go back to just friends after this, to party members after this. Like nothing had happened. I cannot be discarded..." Finally deciding to look at him, you felt tears spring to your eyes, "I think that will break my heart."

"Darling," Astarion whispered, taking your hand in his. "What makes you think I planned to discard you after this?"

"Isn't that what you want?" You asked, allowing the small tears to fall freely, "To just...fuck?"

"Gods, no!" Astarion cried, moving closer and smiling, "That's what I thought you wanted!"

"What?!" You asked, matching his smile, "What do you mean?"

"I thought you only wanted to bed me," He said, squeezing your hand, "That's why I came here tonight - because I thought it was what you wanted. My whole life, for as long as I can remember, my body has been used for others. I've never had someone bed me and want to stay...You know my history with Cazador...you know what I've been subjected to. I've never had anyone...care...for me before," He looked down, his voice softening, "...are you saying that you care for me?"

You nodded slowly. Bravely, you reached your hand to touch his cheek, causing him to look up to you again, "I care for you...deeply. I've fantasized about this moment since I've met you but..." You tried to find the proper words, "I'm not quite sure I'm ready for it. I have little experience and, I know that sounds young, but-"

"My darling, I would never ever push you to do something you don't want," Astarion interrupted, shaking his head, "If anyone knows about being forced to do things you don't want, it's me. Truth be told...it's quite a relief to hear you say that...I'm not...quite sure my body is ready to be touched in that way...right now," He smiled sadly, "Not by someone I care for deeply. Not in a relationship I want to grow more then just...sleeping with one another. I find that it is hard to think of myself sexually due to...my past. And I'd rather move past that before I..." His words trailed off, as if he didn't want to continue.

"Astarion," You whispered. "I won't hurt you like that. Just like you didn't want to hurt me."

He smiled finally, taking your hand closer to his mouth. Gently, he kissed your knuckles, a smile playing on his lips, "The last thing I will ever do is hurt you."

"So..." You gently nudged, "You're saying that you care deeply for me as well?"

Astarion looked at you seriously, continuing to hold your hand. He nodded, "I do. I'm terrified, but I do. I don't know what this is, and I don't know what it will become, but I've come to realize that whatever it is...I want to do it with you," He chuckled to himself, "A terrifying thought, my heart in your hands."

"And mine in yours." You spoke. Your heart was thundering with an overflow of joy - after all this time, this new revelation felt like a sunrise after a dark and stormy night. After a moment of silence, you tucked a piece of hair behind his ear, "Tonight, I think we just lay together. We don't need anything else. But I would like to spend time with you."

Astarion's eyes glittered as he nodded again, noticing your sleep clothes on the ground and picking them up. As he slipped his shirt back on, he laid beside you in bed, hesitantly putting his arms around you.

"I've never just...lay with someone before."

"There's a first for everything." You said mildly, turning to him in his arms. He smiled, gently kissing your forehead.

"I'm scared." He offered. You nodded, knowingly.

"I know. So am I."

"But before the happiness, there is always fear." He said. He looked at you, sincerity and kindness in his eyes. Gently, you met his lips with yours, trying to muster as much courage and support as you could through a kiss. When you pulled back, you smiled at him.

"And there will be a lot of happiness."

-----

What did you all think? I'm so sorry for the long break! I'm back! As always, reblogs, likes, and comments mean the WORLD for writers and are much appreciated!

My inbox is OPEN for requests!

[pjoxreader]

PJO Characters Reacting to “I Love You”

((Not sure if I’m coming back fully yet but had this cute idea I wanted to share! 🥹)) Leo Valdez

-”H-Huh?” goes bright red flames bursting from his head. He’s so used to flirting and not having it returned that he panics when people flirt back.

Frank Zhang

-Looks around before realizing that you were talking to him. Goes as red as a tomato as he points to himself in surprise “M-Me!?” His voice went up at least three octaves. 

Percy Jackson

-”You too?” He really didn’t mean any harm by it, he's just utterly flabbergasted that people keep falling for him. 

Annabeth Chase

-Drops her book in surprise and just stares at you for a while to see if you were messing with her. “Seriously…?” Honestly taken by surprise, internally panicking. 

Hazel Levesque

-The cutest blush you’ve ever seen as she stares at you in shock. “H-Huh?” there’s even a little squeak at the end.

Jason Grace

-Stares at you in shock, mouth opening and closing as if he was a gaping fish. “You stole my thunder…” he complains covering his face from how flushed he was.

Piper Mclean

-Cute pink blush as she stares at you utterly flustered. “You… Aren’t messing with me right?” there’s a threatening undertone to that, she really debates fighting you if you were. 

Nico Di Angelo

-”I’m… Sorry…?” Honestly has no idea what to do with this information. Screaming inside as he just stares at you blankly. 

Reyna Ramirez-Arellano

-”Oh.” honestly taken by surprise. Doesn’t mean anything bad by it; she just needs a few minutes to process.

Will Solace

-”I love you too!” brightest smile you’ve ever seen proceeds to blind you. How can he be so clueless yet so sweet.

~Masterlist & Rules~

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[sehnsuchts-trunken]

Oh No, There’s Only One Bed

Bradley Bradshaw x reader 2k words summary: The hotel is all booked out and now you have to share a room with Bradley Bradshaw. Worse, you have to share a bed. 

there’s not much plot in this. so like dont get your hopes up. im not happy with how it turned out

prequel to “Oh No, There's An Arm Around My Waist”, can be read seperately tho

top gun masterlist

“You have got to be kidding me.” 

You couldn’t help yourself, already regretting the words once they’d left your mouth. The poor receptionist played no part in this - it wasn’t his fault. You weren’t usually this rude to hotel staff. 

“I’m sorry ma’am, but we’re all booked out for tonight. It’s a twin room or no room at all.”

“C’mon, we can make it work.” 

You looked up at Bradley like he was out of his mind. And he even had the audacity to grin at you. “It’s just one night.” 

“You can’t be serious.” 

You couldn’t believe that he was actually supporting this dumb fucking idea. “We can’t share a room. We can’t share a bed, Bradshaw.” 

He raised his eyebrows and you bit your lip, mentally roundhouse-kicking yourself in the face. Why did you have to be so obviously avoidant? Your fight-or-flight was kicking in at the mere proposal. It was too obvious. Were normal people as desperately opposed to the idea of sharing a bed with a friend? Probably not. So why the fuck were you? 

Because maybe Bradley was not just a friend. 

Because maybe you were totally in love with him. And because maybe you’d rather die than ever admit that and get rejected. 

“I mean-” You scrambled for words, for a quick excuse that would make sense, that would save you from at least some of the embarrassment. “You know, like, we’re friends. Friends don’t share a bed.” 

Welp, that did not work. Horrible miss. Dart stuck in the wall-kind of miss. 

“I’ll build a pillow wall if that makes you feel better”, Bradley promised, failing to hide his amusement. You clenched your jaw. 

You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. 

“There’s other hotels”, you tried, desperate to find a different solution. 

“Yeah”, he nodded, almost too enthusiastically. “Sure. Because those aren’t booked out.” 

Alright. So maybe he had a point. 

The only options here were sleeping on the floor of a subway station in San Diego or sharing a bed with him. And the fact that you actually took two seconds debating whether getting chlamydia would be worth not having to sleep pressed up against Bradley’s (warm and very comfortable) chest in a clean bed told you enough about just how far you’d fallen for him already. You were in too deep. And after tonight, you’d be a goner. 

But you really, really did not want to spend the night on the subway. 

“Fuck this”, you muttered, turning back to the poor receptionist who looked like he’d rather be on the subway getting chlamydia himself than here and forcefully smiled at him. “We’ll take the room, thank you.”

...

The door swung open and you blindly reached for the light switch, flipping it on before trudging into the room with your suitcase in one hand and the keys in the other. 

You parked the suitcase in some random corner, threw your jacket onto the tiny table and looked up only to see that Bradley had already claimed the left side of the bed, arms and legs spread out, eyes closed. There was a lump in your throat as you watched him breathe that should not have been there. Neither should the flutter in your tummy. Neither should the heat in your cheeks when he opened his eyes and caught you staring. 

“This is like some fucked up scene straight out of a shitty rom-com”, you complained - the only thing you knew how to do so you wouldn’t drool. He looked way too attractive doing literally nothing. You were not okay with that. Especially now that you had to share the bed with him. 

He tucked his hands behind his head (his biceps flexed ridiculously) and chuckled. 

“You love rom-coms”, he reminded you. 

“Yeah, but only good ones with actual plot and characters that have personality.” 

(This was, in itself, an absolute and total lie and Bradley definitely knew that. He was right - you loved rom-coms. You loved all of them. Especially the shitty ones with no plot whatsoever except “Oh we’re two idiots in love”. But you’d thought it would be much more fun if life played out like that - you hadn’t thought it would be like this.) 

“You’re a bad liar”, he laughed, propping himself up on his elbows to get a better look at you. 

“Am not”, you protested. He hummed. 

“You definitely are.” 

Then he patted the other side of the bed again. “Stop pouting and get in.” 

You rolled your eyes and turned away from him, bending down to put your suitcase on the ground and undo the zipper. 

“Gotta change first, Bradshaw. You can build that pillow wall while I’m in the bathroom.” 

His chuckle followed you even as you closed the door behind you half a minute later and it took you longer than it should have to change into pajamas - shout out to your shaking hands - partly because you spent five minutes brushing your teeth, looking at yourself in the mirror and trying to calm your nerves by telling your reflection all kinds of reassurances. (”It’s just one night” and “If you stay on your side you won’t even know he’s there” and “You’ll both be asleep anyway”)

You almost had a heart attack when you left the bathroom again. 

Because yes, Bradley was still in bed, and that in itself was stressful enough. But mainly because he’d kicked the covers to his feet and his pajamas, if one could call it that, consisted only of his briefs. 

At least he had the decency to look apologetic. 

“Sorry”, he said, gesturing at himself. “I don’t have sleepwear with me. I usually sleep naked.” 

Because of course he did. Of course Bradley fucking Bradshaw slept naked. 

“Uh”, you managed, mind completely blank. You were very, very much aware of the fact that you should say something. You just did not have the mental capacity to come up with anything whatsoever. 

There was a goddamn Adonis in your bed. 

If you’d thought you weren’t wearing much before (because you really weren’t, you’d expected San Diego to be warm and had only packed a skimpy little nightgown) then Bradley was wearing literally nothing. 

And, well, he kind of was wearing nothing. 

Couldn’t he at least have kept the covers up? But no. You knew him. He was basically a live heating pad. He’d die if he pulled them up.

“Okay”, you eventually managed to croax out, forcing your feet to work, to carry you to the right side - your side - of the bed, to flick on the lamp on your bedside table and turn off the big one, all without thinking. “Yeah, no worries.” 

“Good.” He nodded his head for what had to be the better part of ten full seconds. “Good.” 

The silence felt awkward. You were just sitting on the edge of the bed and he was propped up on his elbows on his side, staring holes into the air, not saying anything. Eventually he cleared his throat. 

“Wanna, like, sleep?” 

“Oh, yeah.” You busied yourself with the covers so you wouldn’t have to look at him, carefully sliding underneath them. “Yeah, we probably should.” 

Only the rustling of the sheets filled the room until you were finally lying flat on the mattress, head resting on the pillow, and then there was silence again and you wanted to scream. This was more uncomfortable than anything else had ever been with him. Usually it was easy and light and that was why you liked him so much, that was why the two of you had initially become friends at all, but this... this was so heavy. Like something looming over the two of you that neither was addressing, just staring at it, aware that it was there but not doing anything about it. 

This time, you cleared your throat, reached for the bedside lamp and turned that off too. The room was dark without it. You could only make out his contours next to you, hear the sound of his breath. 

“Good night then”, you whispered, listening as his sheets rustled as well as he lay back, turning onto his side so that he was facing you. For a moment you felt the urge to do the same, but before you could even think about moving you were already swatting the idea away with an imaginary broom and locking it out of your imaginary house. Like hell you were gonna face him. Nuh-uh. You’d rather take the subway and the chlamydia after all. 

“Good night”, he said softly, adjusting his hands one final time before the quiet of the night enveloped the two of you. 

You tried to even your breathing, to focus on anything but him so close to you. You needed to sleep and you needed to sleep quick. But your mind was racing, your heart was beating so fast and so loud that you could hear it, your skin was burning up and you felt like you were about to lose it. 

You managed about five minutes before you turned away from him, onto your side, in hopes that that would make it better. 

It didn’t. 

Five minutes after that, you tried lying on your stomach. Which, to nobody’s surprise, worked no better. It took almost fifteen minutes for you to find the courage to turn onto your right side, to turn so that you were facing him after all. He hadn’t moved an inch. 

In fact, he hadn’t tried to sleep at all. 

When you turned and caught sight of him (bare chest and messy hair and fuck) you almost screamed. His eyes were wide open, watching you, reflecting the little moonlight that was flooding through the windows. 

“Jesus”, you whispered, pressing a hand to your chest as he grinned, his face mere inches from yours. “Bradley, you scared the hell out of me.”

He didn’t even react to that. 

“Can’t sleep?”, he asked instead. He was so close that you could feel his breath on your skin when he spoke. You had to swallow.

“No”, you admitted. For a moment you thought maybe he hadn’t heard you, maybe he’d fallen asleep, but then he moved his arms and you felt a shiver down your spine when his fingertips brushed over the exposed skin of your arms. He wrapped one arm around your waist, his palm resting on the small of your back, and pulled you closer to him. So close that your knees bumped into his thighs. So close that your hands bumped into his torso. So close that your nose bumped into his throat. 

All of them were innocent touches: chaste, easy, light. His skin was barely grazing yours. But they were enough. 

Enough to go crazy over. Enough to hold your breath for a good half minute. 

“Relax”, he muttered, his other hand threading through your hair and holding you just as close as the one on your back.

You swallowed hard. 

“Bradley”, you murmured, not knowing just yet what you were going to say. Maybe you would have pulled away. Or maybe you would have bit the bullet and, for once in your life, taken the chance - maybe you would’ve told him right then and there just what you felt for him. Because friends certainly didn’t do this. 

“We’ll talk tomorrow”, he muttered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head and immediately silencing your inner monologue. “Tomorrow. Just sleep for now.” 

[nolita-fairytale]

don't want to walk alone | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader | chapter one: june/july

summary: you and carmy plan a wedding like it's the opening of a new restaurant.

warnings: swearing, eventual smut, lots of tooth rotting fluff, marriage, no use of y/n, second person pov

wc: 3.4k

listen to: let's get married (bleachers cover) - mitski

a/n: the long awaited wedding FIC!! welcome to part four of the 'make my heart surrender' universe (four part series). this takes place a month after the end of 'still into you' but before the carmy as your baby daddy headcanon series (my carmy masterlist is organized chronologically, if you'd like to read in order). anyways, i truly adore writing for these two and feel it important to note that after watching season 2, i've realized this has just become an animal of its own -- its own universe/timeline/entity which also means there AREN'T any SEASON TWO SPOILERS! this chapter was inspired by a conversation from two months ago between me and @carmensberzattos so courtesy of us, enjoy some healthy relationship-future husband!carmy. also don't worry syd will be starring in the next chapter. i missed her too. lmk if you wanna be added or removed from the taglist.

masterlist | part two

"let's just get married, don't wanna walk alone, so let's get married, 'cause we don't wanna walk alone or runaway." (bleachers, let's get married.)

'I just want to be married to you' are the words uttered (first by you, you think, but maybe he said it first, you really can’t remember) that lead you and Carmy to the decision that you should elope. Sooner rather than later, preferably, is what you both agree on. It’s not like you’re planning on having a big wedding anyways. How much work can a civil ceremony at City Hall and a nice dinner party afterwards be to pull off?

Famous last words. 

You’re not sure how you’ve gotten from there to here, locked in a heated debate over menu edits with your fiance in the middle of your shared apartment when the sun’s just barely come up, but here you are.

“I’m just saying that we should be open minded and leave room for his artistic integrity!” Carmy passionately argues, winding you up as he makes his case. 

“Artistic integrity? Carmy, are you kidding me right now? I-!” you fire back, shaking your head incredulously. “We said we were gonna keep everything chill.”

“It is chill!” he defends, matter-of-factly.

Oh, he’s just looking for a fight.

“There is nothing chill about a parm espuma and it certainly doesn’t belong anywhere near the carbonara!” you scoff, stubbornly. “I mean, the only reason he even brought up the idea of a goddamn espuma in the first place is because he was trying to impress you.”

Carmy’s jaw twitches in response as he grinds his teeth, a display of discomfort at the mere thought.

“He-he was not,” he denies with the kind of conviction of a five year old toddler who's sure as can be.

You shoot him a look. 

“Carmen,” you warn him. 

Sure it’s a silly thing to fight about, but there’s no malice in this argument. It’s all passion, artistry, and for lack of a better term, foreplay. You let out a sigh, softening before you rise out of your chair. 

“Baby, when are you going to admit that you’re kind of a big deal and that people want to impress you?” you level with him, making your way over to your very stubborn and very insistent fiance. You settle down onto his lap, before tucking a stray curl behind his ear as you break, giving the sweetest smile.

He laughs dryly, averting his eyes from you because he’s not sure how much longer he’ll be able to stand his ground (especially when you’re looking at him like that). 

You’re right. And he knows you’re right. 

And Carmy’s never been able to resist you for long anyways. 

A fox-like grin spreads across your lips and you know you’ve won the argument when you feel a pair of hands snake around your waist. 

“Don’t push it,” he warns you, seeing the look on your face as he shakes his head, finally returning his eyes to yours. 

You raise an eyebrow, “You like that I push.” 

He nods slowly in surrender, his face softening as he asks you:

“You really want to fight about this?” 

You shake your head with a laugh. 

“No, of course not! Of course, I don’t want to fight about this!” you exhale, sliding your hands over his shoulders to wrap around his neck. “But I do think that your new buddy is trying to impress us and that it may be wise for us to reign him in – clear the air on what it is we’re looking for.” 

A beat. 

“Don’t get me wrong. Of course, we can leave room for creativity… but I don’t want our wedding party to turn into some pretentious fine dining fancy party.”

“Well, we did meet because of some pretentious fine dining fancy thing,” he points out, giving your hip a squeeze. 

You giggle, “How could I forget?”

You shake your head once more, leaning in to press your lips against his. Carmy inhales deeply, enjoying the feel of your lips on his, your arms wrapped around his neck, the weight of your body on his lap. 

You indulge him for a moment, deepening the kiss as you feel your future husband relax against you, because you really are happy that Carmy’s made a new friend. 

Carmy had met a private chef a few months ago and had been trying to hire him for the restaurant for a while now. Wanting to work for himself, the chef had respectfully declined all advances, but he and Carmy had kept in touch, and it looked as if the relationship could potentially extend outside of the four walls of a kitchen. Since you both agreed that no one from the restaurant should work the party, it had been good timing (making a new friend and the fact that he was a private chef) and the right move for Carmy to ask his new friend to cater the wedding.

“Fine,” you resign yourself, pulling away from the kiss. “Derek can keep the liquid nitrogen but that is as far as it goes.”

Carmy shoots you a look – one that says he’s not quite convinced. 

“And I will be more open minded in the spirit of… artistic integrity. But I’m not changing my mind about courses. Family style or bust, baby,” you negotiate, a serious look in your eyes. 

Carmy thinks it over for a moment before finally coming to a resolution. 

“Deal,” Carmy nods with the same intensity as a ‘yes, chef.’

You nod too, completing the agreement. 

“I want it to be real, Carm. I want it to be us,” you reiterate, your voice soft as you make your condition loud and clear. 

“I know,” he returns, just as determined and committed to the idea as he is to you. 

You’re satisfied with the resolution – even more satisfied with the fact that you’ve come to it together. 

“You know…” he starts, something in his voice that you can’t quite make out, unsure if you’re going to like what’s about to come out of his mouth. “... it could be a perfect menu if you just let me-.”

“Don’t even finish that sentence, Carmen!” you interrupt, knowing exactly what he was going to say. 

You are so not playing this game today.

“You don’t even know what I was-!”

“Yes, I do! You are not catering your own wedding party,” you protest, adamantly.  

You know him too well. 

He laughs, shaking his head as he leans back against his chair, like he’s in high school again, and you’ve just caught him sneaking back into the house. 

“God, I love you! But sometimes you drive me up the wall, Carm,” you groan out of frustration, eliciting another laugh from his chest as you hang your head, resting your forehead against his shoulder this time.

“Such a control freak,” you sigh, against his chest. 

“Thought you like it when I take control,” he murmurs, beginning to leave kisses across your exposed skin. 

You giggle partially because it tickles, and mostly because of what Carmy’s said. 

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

You lift your head and Carmy kisses you again, this time savoring the way your lips feel against his for a little while longer – just long enough to remind himself that he wants to have the option to sneak away in the middle of your wedding party to have sex much more than he wants cater to be in control all the time. 

Sometimes, he thinks to himself, control is overrated anyways. 

Only sometimes.

“Okay, okay,” he mutters, letting go of the idea. “I’ll get back to Derek about final menu edits and make sure he knows that while we want him to be creative, we also want to keep it… you know….”

“Chill?” you emphasize. 

“Chill,” he confirms.

“Okay. Thank you, baby,” you smile softly, trying your best to enjoy the temporary moment of peace between the two of you. Carm squeezes your hip as you roll your eyes with a sigh, muttering an:

“Oh fuck.” 

“What’s up?”

You shake your head again, laughing incredulously before letting out another sigh. 

“Just wait till we go through this again with the cake.”

“Fuck!” Carmy shouts towards the ceiling, throwing his head back as you laugh. “Why did we say we wanted to plan a wedding again?”

“Well baby, I don’t think either of us can pass up on a chance to create a menu,” you giggle, leaving a few kisses along his jawline before you make your way up to his nose. “Can you imagine if we decided to have a full-on wedding? That’d be a freaking mess.”

He chuckles, “It’d be like opening another restaurant.”

“Yeah, pass,” you hum, so glad to have dodged that bullet.

-----------------------------------------

By the time you and Carmy are even ready to focus on the cake portion of said wedding-dinner-party it’s a month later. You’ve been through half of the bakeries in the city, you think, and something’s just felt off. You’re practically eating your words, as it dawns on you that you’re having the exact same thought as Carmy: that it could just be perfect if you were able to make it yourself. 

Then again, you remind yourself that a cake is an entirely different thing versus running a dinner service, so it can’t be that unhinged to have these thoughts, right?

But you and Carmy made an agreement, so in solidarity, you decide it’s only fair for you to make like Tammy Wynette and stand by your man. 

You’re grateful for the half day you have today (“Summer Fridays”, as it’s so fondly referred to around your office) – and the fact that you get to work from home. What it means for you is that today you can clock out early and pick up samples from the tenth bakery (okay, so maybe it’s the eleventh but truthfully, you’ve lost count) in the running for your wedding cake. 

You change out of your pajamas for the first time today, throwing on a slip dress and one of Carmy’s crisp, white Ralph Lauren button downs – worn layered and open like a cardigan – before you head to the bakery, and then eventually, The Bear.

The restaurant is closed for the afternoon, as they do a shift change over: some stay and take a break, others go home, let the dinner crew come in and take over. It’s different these days and while some days you miss it – the hustle and bustle of the kitchen, the sounds of an ‘all day’ shouted by the expeditor, the careful dance that is working in a kitchen – you remind yourself that you’re enjoying a half day, and that when you’d chosen to leave, you were ready for a change. 

After entering The Bear, you make small talk with Gary while he finishes turning over the dining room for dinner, catching up over the flag football league he’s recently joined – one, it seems, to be taken very seriously by all participants. You tell him that you’re here with wedding cake samples, and he’s more than eager to give you some space to set up, because who doesn’t love free cake? Mid-sentence, Gary gestures towards a table for you to set up on, as you begin to unpack your large brown paper bag. 

“Well, well. Look who it is,” Marcus calls out, as soon as he sees you. “Heard a rumor you were out here. You brought cake?”

“I brought cake,” you repeat as confirmation, turning to see your dear friend and mentee. “But don’t worry. I’ll be thinking about yours the whole time.”

He snickers, moving in for a hug. 

“‘S Good to see you, Chef. How ya been?” he asks, enveloping you in his arms for a tight squeeze. 

“Good to see you too, Marcus. I’m good. Had a half day today so… you know, we’ve just been busy with wedding stuff. But what’s going on with you? What’s new?” you answer, turning the focus back onto him. 

“Oh you know. The usual. Though, I’ve been workin’ on some new shit for Syd’s new menu when I’m not here,” he answers, a broad smile spreading across his lips as he talks about. 

“Jeez, Brooks. I know, Carm’s got ya busy. When the hell do you ever sleep?” you ask, as you shake your head. 

“I don’t,” he answers plainly. 

And just as you’re about to remind Marcus to get some rest, Sugar comes bursting through the front doors, her rounded belly full on display now that she’s had a chance to tell almost everyone the news of her pregnancy. 

“Hey! Sorry I’m running late,” Sugar says, announcing her arrival. “Got tied up running an errand and then I had to stop at the store for Tums. This baby is killing me with the heartburn these days. Fucking christ.” 

“Oh, no big deal. I haven’t even seen Carmy yet,” you shrug, as she mutters a surprised ‘oh’ and Marcus mumbles something about going to get Carmy. “It’s good to see you!”

“Yo, Carm!” Marcus shouts, heading back to the kitchen while you and Sugar exchange hellos. 

“Awww, it’s good to see you too, sweetie,” she smiles, pulling you in for your second hug of the day. 

This is something you miss about working in the kitchen: the camaraderie, the found-family, all the love. 

“Wow this is… quite the spread,” Sugar mentions, eyeing the cakes you’ve laid out on the table.

“Yeah… they had a lot of ideas, I guess,” you say with a shrug. 

Sugar shoots you an unconvinced look. 

“Okay, fine.  I had a lot of ideas…” you admit guiltily. 

“...aaaand no one is going to do it the way you want it to be done,” Sugar sighs in the middle of your sentence. 

“And they were more than willing to play. I couldn’t help myself!” you finish, defending yourself. 

“Well, your enthusiasm is one of the many things I love about you, but… yeah, this is a lot,” Sugar grins as she gestures towards the overwhelming amount of cake you’ve just laid out on the table. 

Regardless, Sugar really can’t wait to be your sister-in-law. 

“Speaking of… I thought this was just a small wedding. It looks like you’re preparing to feed the entire French Army during Marie Antoinette’s reign.”

“Oh it still is – small,” you answer, simply. “I went a little overboard, didn’t I?”

“Why go through all this trouble? You might as well have a small ceremony instead of-,”

“No!” you protest, hearing another voice say the same thing. 

“Sugar, we’ve already told you that we don’t want to do anything big!” Carmy adds, as soon as he enters the dining room. 

“Hey, babe,” he says, sending you the softest smile as he looks your way.

“Hey you,” you smile in return as he approaches you, giving him a short ‘hello’ peck on the lips. 

“Fak attack!” Fak cries out, as he enters the dining room. “Ooooh cake tasting!”

“Yeah,” you chuckle, as Fak is quickly followed by some of the line cooks that have just wrapped up lunch service. 

It’s then that you hear Tina’s voice, growling something in Spanish as Richie speaks way too loudly about god knows what, as Ebra follows behind, somehow in the middle of a story that has little to do with whatever Tina and Richie are going on about. 

You smile to yourself, because you really do miss this part. 

“I told everyone we were doing a cake tasting,” Carmy starts, gesturing towards the rest of the staff as they join you. “That cool?”

“Totally. We have more than enough to share,”

“That’s true,” Sugar says. "And I can't complain because the baby is reeeeaaally craving cake these days."

As everyone at The Bear crowd around the circular dining table where you set up the cake tasting, you all enjoy bites here and there, comparing notes, sharing reactions to each flavor combo. 

Earl grey & lemon. A classic red velvet. And of course, you had to get a little weird with the black sesame clementine combination you’d dreamed up with the pastry chef you’d been working with. 

“I think my favorite is the black sesame and clementine but I doubt it’s a cake everyone will like. Doesn’t have the crowd appeal we probably should keep in mind,” you murmur to Carmy as the two of you watch his staff go on about the tiramisu-inspired one. 

“Well, babe, it’s our wedding! We can do whatever we want,” he encourages you. 

“I don’t know,” you sigh, paralyzed with indecision. 

“The tiramisu one is good. I’m leaning towards that,” Carmy shares with you, eager to hear your thoughts. 

“Yeah, I don’t know. Don’t you think it’s a little too on the nose?” you reply, unsettled and unsure that any of these are right. 

“Why don’t you guys just let me make it?” Marcus interjects, asking the question he’s been wondering this entire time. 

“I-,” you start, unable to help the fact that your eyes begin to wet with emotion. “Really?” 

He laughs, glancing sideways at you. 

“Uh yeah. I’m a little offended neither of you did in the first place,” Marcus teases the two of you, though you know there’s some truth to it. 

You and Carmy exchange a look that says something along the lines of: ‘oh shit.’

“Well, we didn’t think you’d-,” you stammer, beginning to explain the why behind you and Carmy’s hesitation in the first place.

“We just thought you’d want to- that you should be able to enjoy the party,” Carmy adds, finishing your sentence, his eyes widening as he realizes that you both kinda fucked up. 

“Chefs,” he says, looking from you to Carmy once more, with a seriousness in his voice as he rises to his feet. “It would be my honor. And just because I’m makin’ the cake doesn’t mean I won’t be able to enjoy the party. I can do it in the days leading up to it.”

“Oh-, okay, yes! Yes!” you cry, leaping to your feet this time, as if you’re accepting Carmy’s proposal again. 

Richie rolls his eyes in response, groaning as he mutters something snarky to Fak, as Marcus pulls you into the biggest bear hug. 

“You all are a bunch of saps,” he scoffs, directing this next comment to Marcus this time. “You big softie!”

“Richie!” Sugar hisses, glaring the sharpest daggers from her eyeballs into Richie’s skull. 

“Oh fuck off, Richie,” you snort, with a laugh. “You’re just salty because… wait. Carm, you haven’t asked him yet?”

“Babe, I-,” Carmy whines, his eyes wide. “You just ruined the surprise!”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah ‘fuck’ is right,” he pouts, though he can never stay upset with you for too long. 

“What the fuck are you guys even talking about?” Richie asks, squinting as he looks between the two of you. 

You and Carmy share a knowing look, deciding that now is a better time as ever. 

“We want you to be our witness, Cousin. At the courthouse,” Carmy says, a soft intensity in his eyes as he answers Richie’s question.

“Jesus Christ,” Sugar snarks, with an eye roll as she realizes she’ll be stuck with him at the damn courthouse as well.

“Wh-?” Richie begins to ask, looking from Carmy to you, then back to Carmy again, tears welling up in his eyes as he realizes what Carmy’s just said. “You-? Really?”

“Yeah, of course,” you reply, in a well-duh kind of tone. “Plus you know I can’t get married without my Ava there.”

“And sign the marriage license and everything?” Richie balks, because he really can’t believe it. 

“Yeah,” you reassure him. 

“Yeah. I mean, fuck yeah! Fuck yeah!” Richie declares, even more sentimental than Marcus this time. “Shit, Cuz… Hell yeah, I’ll sign the fuck out of that marriage license as your witness.”

Tina snickers, exchanging a look with Sugar, and earning a glare from Richie. He lowers his voice, directing the question towards you this time: 

“Oh and uh… cool if Ava still sings “Love Story?” I kinda promised her she could sing a Taylor Swift song as part of my best man speech and she insists that one is about you and Carmy,” Richie asks, looking around suspiciously, afraid of someone else hearing. 

“Awwww, Richie. Of course,” you coo, only melting inside a little at the thought.

“What?” Richie snaps, realizing that he hasn’t been as discreet as he thought he was. 

Sugar snorts in response, earning a laugh from both Tina and Marcus. 

It’s Marcus’ turn to roll his eyes at Richie this time. 

“What?” Richie repeats, this time with a little more annoyance in his voice. 

Sugar smirks, firing back with a:

“Who’s the big softie now, Rick?”

[ananxiousgenz]

MORE MALEVOLENT COWBOY AU GUYS!!!

welcome back to yet another chapter in this glorious little au of ours!! @percymawce-arts and I have been suuuuuper busy behind the scenes writing and like. we have some absolutely killer ideas that we cannot wait to share with you!! so enjoy this sad little scene for now <3

TRIGGER WARNINGS: alcohol consumption/drunkenness, fighting, references to murder, references to child death

and for tagging, @izel-reblogs @ellamenop and @platypus-with-interests I hope yall enjoy this just as much as you have with the rest <3

The moment he entered the cabin’s sitting room, John knew that something wasn’t quite right.

The shadows were all wrong. At this time of day, the sun usually cast soft shadows into the sitting room that left the table and couch awash in warmth and golden light. But the shadows were harsh, stark, cutting through the couch and leaving the table shrouded in darkness. As if the world itself knew that something was wrong. And something was wrong.

For one, Arthur was slumped over the table in the far corner, shoulders racked with either laughter or sobs, John couldn’t tell. For another, there was a bottle of whiskey clutched in his right hand, more than half empty. There was no glass in sight.

John hooked a finger over the bandanna covering his face and pulled it off, hanging it quietly beside his hat on a rack near the door. As he did so, he stared long and hard at Arthur, studying him, debating whether he should approach him. In a relatively short time, John had already seen a great many things from Arthur: bravery, conviction, intelligence, compassion. Drunkenness, however, was a new one, and he had no idea what to expect from Arthur with half a bottle in his system. It didn’t look pleasant.

After a long moment of chewing on his thumbnail, John decided he was more concerned about Arthur than afraid of him (but only by a thin margin, he realized) and took a step in his direction. He tried to step lightly, but the damn floorboards decided right then would be the perfect moment to creak beneath his feet. Arthur’s head snapped up the moment he heard the noise, clearly not drunk enough to lose touch with his instincts. John froze, like a gazelle suddenly caught in the gaze of a lion.

“John? Izzat you?” Arthur slurred, eyes darting sightlessly across the room.

“Yes, Arthur, it’s me,” John replied, forced to exhale in order to speak. He hadn’t realized he wasn’t breathing before that moment, and now that he was he tried to keep it level as he inched closer to the table, little by little.

“Oh,” Arthur sighed, and he sounded almost disappointed. “‘S funny,” he mumbled through tears (there were streaks of them running down his red cheeks and his eyes were puffy, he’d been crying for a while) as he took another swig of whiskey. “Thought you were someone else.” He clutched the bottle to his chest the way one might hold a precious child.

Despite himself (or, perhaps because of the nerves) John chuckled, “Might I ask who?”

“‘S’name was Parker.” Arthur sniffled and then stared solemnly at the tabletop, picking at a loose splinter of wood with shaking hands. “M’old partner.”

“Oh,” said John, halting in his motion towards Arthur. His fists clenched, his hackles rose and he was beginning to suspect he wanted no part in this conversation. He was about to turn tail and leave when Arthur started talking again.

“He was a good man, y’know. Reallll…. tough. Strong. Kind, too. Lot like you.” He nodded emphatically to himself, as though confirming information someone had questioned the truth of. As though he was proving something to himself.

John swallowed. “I’m sure he was.”

“Saved my life, way back when. I was…” Arthur waved away a painful memory with an unsteady hand and made a faint sputtering noise. “Back in Boston. I was jus’ drunk all the time. Made the stupid-ass decision to head out here. Thought it would be easier to die in a cattle stampede or from th’ heat or s’mthing.”

John still wasn’t sure where this was going, but it was the most Arthur had ever willingly shared with him about his past, so maybe he wouldn’t leave just yet. He, slowly, quietly, pulled out a chair on the other side of the table and sat down.

“‘Was drunk and in debt at well near every bar in town,” Arthur continued, a small smile spreading across his face as he had another swig from the bottle clutched in his hand. “Was fixin’ to get myself killed by debt collectors sooner than by the drink, I reckon. Parker found me one night. I was… inna bad way. Real bad. He said I looked like… like I’d hit bedrock, and–,” Arthur chuckled mirthlessly. “‘Course he was right. He was always right.”

Arthur went quiet for a moment as a few more tears escaped his eyes. He wiped them away roughly on his forearm and sniffled again.

“And?” John prompted gently after a long moment.

A cruel laugh tore its way out of Arthur’s throat, making John flinch. “And you killed him.”

Arthur’s gaze rose from the table to look John dead in the eye. There was a vicious fire burning in that dark and stormy expression, like a bonfire, barely contained. It left John frozen in place again, his breath caught in his throat and any words in his defense stuck along with it.

“You shot him, f’r nothin’.” More laughter bubbled out of Arthur, along with tears. “F’r a mission that didn’t even exist! Just bam–,” Arthur mimicked shooting himself in the head–, “gone. Dropped like a… like a fucking ragdoll!” Arthur doubled over suddenly, dropping his head into his free hand as giggles made it impossible for him to speak properly. “You, you killed the man who saved my life! Made it worth living again!”

John got up out of his chair and slowly began backing away. “Arthur, I-”

“You killed him!” Arthur yelled, lifting his head from his hand. The laughter was gone, now, and had been replaced by fire in Arthur’s voice that matched his expression, fueled by the whiskey and grief he had already thrown onto it. John opened his mouth to say something else, but abandoned that plan to duck instead as a half-full bottle of whiskey was hurled at his head. He managed to dodge it in the nick of time, watching as it sailed over his head and shattered against the cabin wall behind him with a crash. Glass fell in pieces to the floor and whiskey stained the wall dark, dripping and slowly soaking into the wood like blood into fabric.

Arthur’s eyes were wide and wild as he stumbled out from behind the table towards John, who was beginning to wish he had never even returned to the cabin in the first place as he continued backing away, nearly tripping over what little furniture they had as he went.

“You… you fucking… He’s dead, he– she’s dead. Gone, just like him. They’re dead, and it’s all because of you! It’s all… your fault…” And for a moment, John could have sworn Arthur wasn’t talking to him, the way he whispered it, his voice laced with a pain that John had never heard from him before. “All your fault…” he said again. But then the anger was back, the expression burning like fire in his eyes as he scowled at John. “All your fucking fault! Fuck you, John!” Arthur shouted, spitting the words out like snake venom as John felt a wall begin to close in behind him.

Behind the panicked, animal fear of the moment, John’s mind caught on something in Arthur’s drunken rambling. She. Gone just like him. They’re dead. He was no longer just talking about Parker. A woman, perhaps? An old love, a young flame put out too soon? Or… or a girl. A child re-emerging from the fog of Arthur’s mysterious past. Someone who had died… because of John? Or someone else? It didn’t make sense. John didn’t hurt women or children as a personal rule, a piece of his early life that the cruelty and anger of boarding school and Larson had never been able to fully scrub away. So then who was Arthur blaming for her loss if not him?

“Arthur, who the fuck is she?!” John finally snapped, words finally coming unstuck in his throat as his back was pressed against the wall. Arthur stumbled forward and furiously grabbed a fistful of his shirt, the sour smell of whiskey on his breath completely overwhelming this close.

“She deserved better than this, you selfish–,”

“Arthur, please. I don’t even know who you’re talking about, would you just tell me-”

“You killed her too!” More tears were sliding down Arthur’s face now. At such a close distance, John could see them glinting in the dim light as he was yanked forward by his shirt.

“Who, Arthur? Who did I kill?!”

“FAROE!”

“ARTHUR, WHO THE HELL IS FAROE?!”

It was like a gun had gone off in a crowded saloon. Arthur’s mouth closed so quickly that John almost swore he heard a tooth crack with the motion. Both of them were breathing heavily, and Arthur stared at John with an expression that melted from one emotion to the next like wax off a candle. From confusion to recognition to a look of such agonizing horror and grief that John’s heart broke at the sight of it. Arthur released John's shirt like it was a hot iron burning his hand and took an unsteady step backward, mumbling an apology about alcohol and short tempers, and John could see the beginnings of a fresh wave of tears bubbling up in Arthur’s eyes.

That name. Faroe. It clearly touched a nerve with Arthur, some old hurt he had never quite healed from, some loss that had never scarred over. It almost seemed to… scare him. John had never seen Arthur Lester so clearly terrified as he’d been in that moment, when the fog had cleared and he’d realized what he’d said. It made the hair at the back of John’s neck stand on end, made his jaw clench and his breath catch in his lungs. Anything that could scare Arthur like this… John couldn’t even begin to imagine what it might be.

Arthur swayed back and forth for a moment, a dead, brittle branch rocking in a great wind, until he finally snapped, falling gracelessly to the floor with a broken sob. John reached out, whether to catch him or comfort him he didn’t know, but stopped short. He had never been soft or gentle, never good at providing comfort to people who needed it. Never been comfortable with people crying or being vulnerable, but…

For Arthur, he would do it. He didn’t quite understand why, but it was the fact that it was Arthur Lester, a crumpled, sobbing mess on the floor before him, that convinced him to slowly lower himself to the floor beside him, listening to the choked sounds of his agony with a bleeding heart of his own.

Even then, John still hesitated to reach out. Connections only caused pain, he’d learned that the hard way. But he just couldn’t help himself. As much as he liked to be aloof and mysterious and pretend he was above human connection, he cared far too much for the people around him. For Yellow, Noel, Oscar, even Larson, in some fucked up way. For drunken, angry, grieving Arthur. It was the thing that always ended up getting him in trouble. But for Arthur…

John reached a careful hand around Arthur’s shoulders. “I… I’m so sorry, Arthur.” Even if he wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for, it was true. He was sorry Arthur had gone through something so painful, sorry that he was hurting now. Sorry he couldn’t fix it. Sorry he’d killed Parker.

To John’s surprise, Arthur leaned his head into his shoulder almost immediately, shivering with the force of his sobs, following the offer of comfort like he’d been starving for it. He smelled like cheap whiskey and salty tears and clung to John like he was an anchor in the white-water rapids of his grief.

It didn’t come naturally, at first, comforting Arthur. John’s spine was ramrod straight and his arms were stiff, his expression schooled carefully into something mildly pained but mostly indifferent. But Arthur took what he could get, clinging and sobbing and squeezing despite John’s stoicism. But the closer Arthur got, the more apparent it became that their bodies would fit together better if John just moved his leg here, held his arm here, shifted Arthur’s leg this way. The longer Arthur stayed, the more courage John’s hands had in moving, gently massaging the back of Arthur’s neck or running his fingers through his hair, stroking a light line up and down his spine. The same soothing motions he used for Akke, the ones he’d probably learned from a mother, somewhere, once upon a time. Some instinct buried deep in his subconscious, an instinct to care. Finally resurfaced by seeing Arthur Lester in need of it.

Eventually, Arthur had ended up halfway in John’s lap, legs thrown across John’s in a tangled sort of side saddle. His eyes were pressed into John’s neck, the last of his shuddering cries fanning across the skin there. John had graduated from soothing touches to soothing sounds, shhs and I knows and you’re alrights whispered into Arthur’s auburn hair. They’d been rocking back and forth, back and forth, slowly for the past long while. Finally, Arthur’s cries became hiccups, became shuddering breaths, until their little cabin was quiet again. There was a bluebird singing outside, somewhere.

“Arthur..?” John whispered, tentatively. Arthur inhaled sharply, his frown deepening. John held him tighter.

“Please don’t ask,” Arthur managed, near silent. “Please don’t–,” he hiccuped, on the verge of tears again, and John resumed his gentle ministrations in his hair, shushing him.

“I won’t, Arthur,” he soothed. He let his lips fall to the crown of Arthur’s head. Not a kiss, but something intentional nonetheless, punctuated by a puff of warm breath against his scalp. “I won’t ask.”

[topazy]

Tomorrow's promise

Pairing: Daryl Dixon × reader, Rick Grimes × sister reader

Warnings: Swearing

Chapter: 3.08

“We’re not leaving.”

“We can’t stay here.”

Glenn shakes his head. “If Rick says we aren’t running, then we aren’t running.”

You readjust your arms slightly so Judith is in a better position as she feeds from the bottle. Since the governor's attack, there has been a contentious debate within your group about what to do next, adding to the growing tension. You personally wanted to leave, but without everyone's agreement, it would be impossible to do so. The best thing for your group to do was wait until the middle of the night, turn all the lights off, and try to sneak out, but there was no point in sharing that idea since it was probably too late.

“No, it's better to live like rats.”

You scoff at Merle, who was locked in one of the cells. He was a rat. Rick clicks his tongue. You ask, “You got a better idea?”

“Yeah, we should have slid out of here last night and lived to fight another day. But we lost that window, didn’t we? I’m sure he’s got scouts on every road out of this place by now.”

“We ain’t scared of that prick,” Daryl grunts. It was hard to take his rough exterior seriously as he walked up and down the cell block so Jace, who was sleeping peacefully in his arms, wouldn’t wake.

“Y’all should be. That truck through the fence was him just ringing the doorbell. We might have some thick walls to hide behind, but he’s got the guns and the numbers. And if he takes the high ground around this place, shoot, he could just starve us out if he wanted to.”

Maggie glares at him, “Let’s put him in another cell block.”

Daryl shakes his head. “No, he’s got a point.”

“This is all you; you started this!” Maggie yells at Merle.

Another argument starts with whether the group should stay or leave. Your brother turns and goes to leave the cellblock, and you step in front of him. The look shared between you is a silent exchange of the unspoken burden you both carried. What happened to you, Woodbury, triggered something inside Rick. “We can’t ignore this; the governor will come back for us, and we need to be ready.”

When your brother starts to walk by you, Hershel furiously yells at him, “Get back here!”

Rick freezes on the spot.

“You’re slipping, Rick. We’ve all seen it, and we understand why, but now is not the time. You once said this isn’t a democracy. Now you have to own up to that. I put my family’s life in your hands, so get your head clear and do something.”

—

Daryl comes into your cell while you’re sitting on the floor reading to Jace. He sits down on the edge of the bed. His legs brush against yours as he stretches his limbs out.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you say, taking Jace off your lap to let him crawl. “I haven’t had the chance to say it yet, but thank you for showing up when you did and saving my brother. I’m glad you’re back.”

He says nothing and picks at the dirt underneath his nails.

Something about his actions pulls at a memory—something you’d kept locked deep inside your brain for so long you almost forgot. Your lower lip trembles slightly as you remember Shane kneeling in front of you, begging you to say something as you chip the green polish off your nails.

“What’s going on between you and Glenn?”

You pause before answering, “nothing.”

Daryl glances down at you; he knows you’re lying. There was friction in your friendship with Glenn again; not only had he brought up Shane trying to kill to prove a point, he tried to convince your brother and Hershel to hand Merle over to the governor, despite what it would do to his brother. The irony was that Glenn was one of the kindest and softest people you knew, but the trauma he suffered was causing him to lash out.

“Pfft, fine, don’t tell me.”

You swat at Daryl’s leg playfully, saying, “It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Fine,” he said huffily. You knew things were hard for him with everyone in his ear bitching about Merle. “Why’s the kid running around collecting poles? Or is that another secret?”

“Stop teasing,” you laugh.

He lets out a deep, throaty chuckle. “Seriously though, Carl is hellbent on finding everything on the scavenger hunt you sent him on.”

“I wanted to keep him busy and made him a list. Beth offered to go with him and make sure he doesn’t stray into a cellblock we haven’t cleared yet. I’m going to sharpen down the poles he brings back, and once nightfall comes, start picking off the walkers. The last thing we need is the fence coming down and then swarming in again.”

“Is this your idea or Rick’s?”

“Mine.”

Daryl looks down when Jace hits his leg with a toy. He leans over and picks him up. “Your mom really is some kind of zombie-fighting wonder woman, huh?”

You smile while watching how gentle he is with Jace for a few moments until the sound of someone running catches your attention. Out of breath, Carl holds onto the doorframe and says, “You need to come now.”

Alarmed, you get to your feet. “Carl, what’s wrong?”

“Andrea is outside.”

Holy shit.

This could be bad. “Was she alone?”

He nods. “I think so.”

Daryl places Jace onto the floor and rushes by you to get his arrows. “Whatever happens, y/n, guard the block. Anybody comes in here that you don’t know, light their asses up.”

Carl leaves right after. You step out of the cell and see a frightened-looking Beth holding Judith in her arms and Hershel. Your stomach turns; a teenage girl and a cripple would be no match for the governor’s men. “Take them and go into the cell right up the back; I’ll cover the door into the block. If anybody gets by, shoot them.”

Beth nods and does as you ask. It was hard to know if Andrea was a threat or not; she could have easily been manipulated or could have turned on your people for the governor.

Hershel pats your shoulder and says, “I’ll go with Bethy. I doubt anybody will get past... but if they do, I won’t let them near Jace and Judith.”

You let out a shaky breath, nervous for what was to come next. “Thank you; lock the door behind me.”

—

Sitting on the table in- front of the doorway, you tap your fingers against your thigh rhythmically with the others to return. You could hear footsteps and voices getting closer by, but the seconds seemed to drag on.

Rick met your eye as he opened the gate leading into your cellblock. You knew from the first look that he didn’t trust Andrea. You knock on the table and say, “Hershel, it’s safe.”

The older man unlocks the gate and joins the rest of you. Andrea lets out a loud gasp and claps at her mouth when she notices his missing leg. “Hershel, oh god.” She steps out of her embrace with Carol and glances around the room. “I can’t believe this. Where’s Shane?”

“He didn’t make it.”

“Oh, y/n, I'm so sorry.” She looks up at your brother and says, “And Lori?”

A lump forms in your throat, preventing you from answering for him. When Rick’s eyes become glossy, Hershel says, “She had a girl. Lori didn’t survive.”

“Neither did T-dog,” Carol adds.

“I’m so sorry.” She looks genuinely taken aback by the news of so many deaths. “Carl… Rick. Shane… I just, how did he die?”

You and Daryl exchange a look. In a gruff voice, he says, “The last thing any of us needs is to relive those moments at a time like this.”

Understanding, the blonde nods her head before changing the subject. “You all live here?”

At first, nobody says anything, then Glenn finally answers, “Here and the cell block.”

“There?” She points in the direction of the area you slept in. “Well, can I go in?”

Rick steps in front of her and says, “I won’t allow that.”

“I’m not an enemy, Rick.”

“Your boyfriend tore through our fences yesterday with a truck full of walkers and shot us up. And the vicious bastards he brought with him had Carl and Beth pinned down outside. They were trying to kill a couple of kids.”

Her eyes are filled with denial. “He said you fired first.”

“Well, he’s lying,” Rick deadpans.

In a softer tone, Hershel says, “He killed an inmate who survived in here.”

“We liked him. He was one of us.”

“I didn’t know anything about that. As soon as I found out, I came. I didn’t even know you were in Woodbury until after the shoot-out.” Andrea was borderline defensive in her tone, and it was clear she wasn’t ready to hear what really happened.

“That was days ago.”

“As I said, I came as soon as I heard,” she says, spinning around to face Michonne. “What have you told them?”

“Nothing.”

“I don’t get it. I left Atlanta with you people, and now I’m the odd man out.”

“He almost killed Michonne. He tortured me and y/n, and he was going to kill us,” Glenn clarifies.

“With his finger on the triggers,” she points at Merle. “Isn’t he the one who kidnapped you? Who beat you?”

Your tongue pokes at the gap in your mouth, feeling for the tooth Merle knocked out.

She lets out a deep sigh. “I cannot excuse or explain what Philip has done. But I’m here, trying to bring us together. We have to work this out.”

“There’s nothing to work out; we’re going to kill him,” Rick says bluntly. “I don’t know how or when, but we will.”

She looks at him, horrified. “We can settle this. There is room at Woodbury for all of you.”

“Did your boyfriend tell you this?”

“No.”

Shaking your head, you stand up and ask, “Then why did you come here?”

“Because he’s gearing up for war. The people are terrified; they see you as killers. They’re training to attack.”

“I’ll tell you what. Next time you see Philip, you tell him I’m going to take his other eye.”

Andrea crinkles her nose at Daryl’s comment and looks back at your brother. “Rick, if you don’t sit down and try and work this out, I don’t know what’s going to happen. He has a whole town looking at you; you’ve lost so much already. You can’t stand alone anymore.”

“Unless you’re planning on helping us get inside and bring us to him, I’ve heard enough.”

—

While sewing two thin blankets together to make them thicker, you think about Andrea defending the governor and how she couldn’t explain or excuse the things he did. Is that how you sounded when talking about Shane? Shane had done a lot of bad things over the years, but you always tried to defend him. But he was nothing like the man who was trying to slaughter you all like animals for sport.

Your ears perk up when you hear a baby fussing. It wasn’t Jace because he was sleeping, so it must have been your niece. You peek your head out of the cell and see Carol placing the newborn into Andrea’s arms.

“Oh, look at you. Let me guess, Daryl named her ‘ass-kicker. That’s not her real name.”

“Judith.”

“Judith,” she repeats. “Hi, Judith, how precious are you?”

You weren’t sure why, but something about their interaction left you feeling uneasy. It was most likely a protective instinct to keep your family close and safe. You didn’t think Andrea was a real threat to Judith personally, but the blonde couldn’t be trusted.

“What happened to Lori?”

“During a C-section, Maggie and y/n…” The sadness in Carol's voice hurts to hear. It couldn’t have been easy for her to be around children after losing her own daughter not so long ago. “Carl had to-”

“Oh, my god.”

“T-dog died, leading me to safety.”

Andrea’s eyes gloss over. “And Shane?”

“Rick killed him. That night we left the farm, and the whole Randall thing was a lie. Shane tried to kill Rick.”

Your stomach drops. No, no, no. You wanted to scream that they were wrong and that Rick did nothing wrong. Your mother used to tell you that love calls for sacrifice, and losing Shane to keep your brother was exactly that. Salty tears roll down your cheeks. You were terrified that night would never leave you. It would never end.

“But Shane loved Rick.”

“And Shane loved Lori,” Carol said. “I feel bad for y/n. First, her fiancé cheats on her, then tries to kill her brother. Some people just have a string of bad luck.”

“Oh,” Andrea pauses before saying, “Ricks become cold. Unsteady.”

Your tears of sorrow and guilt quickly turn to hurt and anger. Something about her word choice triggered you. Hearing enough, you wipe your eyes before stepping out of the cell, making your presence known. You hold out your arms and say, “Give her to me.”

When the blonde hands your Judith, you smile at your niece and kiss her forehead. Maybe you were overreacting, but bad mouthing a man while holding his daughter was in bad taste.

Andrea lets out an exasperated sigh. “Y/n.”

“Unsteady? When I refused to tell your boyfriend our location, he forced me to strip my clothes off and had one of his goons cut me in the leg so I couldn’t run. He put bags over our heads and made me and Glenn kneel on the ground. If my ‘unsteady’ brother hadn’t turned up, they would have put bullets through our heads.”

“I’m sorry.”

You look at Carol and say, “You’ve never told us what happened before.”

“You should know better than to gossip with someone on the opposite team.”

“Andrea,” Rick suddenly calls up from the ground floor. “I think you’ve over stayed your welcome.”

—

Everyone had gone outside except for Beth, who stayed to watch over the babies while you attempted to wash some of the group's clothes while the rest saw Andrea off.

With the weight of your emotions threatening to overwhelm you, you try your best to focus on the task at hand. What happened to you in Woodbury, hearing Carol's pity hurt. Andrea choosing to go back to the governor hurt.

Beth notices your red eyes and asks, “What’s wrong?”

“It's nothing,” you lie, trying to brush off her question. “Really, I’m fine.”

She sees right through you. Beth places the box of formula down, runs around from the other side of the table, and hugs you from behind. Using the back of your hand, you muffle a sob.

Everything still hurt, but it felt good to let some pent-up emotions out.

—

In a low voice, you motion to Beth, who is singing, “You have a good girl there, Hershel; she has a heart of gold.”

He smiles proudly.

Standing between Hershel and Daryl, you move over slightly when your brother comes to join, and your arm presses against Daryl’s. The contact was minimal, but just the feeling of his warmth seems to slow your rapid heartbeat.

In a quiet voice, Daryl says, “Some reunion, huh?”

“She’s in a jam.”

“We all are,” Hershel sighs. “Andrea’s persuasive. This fella’s armed to the teeth, bent on destruction.”

You look across at your brother and ask, “So, what are we going to do?”

“We match it. I’m going on a run tomorrow.”

“One of us should go with you.”

Rick offers you a small smile. “I’ll take Michonne. And Carl, he’s ready. You three hold it down here.”

“Got it.”

[vantaesfairie]

𝔭𝔦𝔠𝔨 𝔞 𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔡 : 𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔡𝔬 𝔭𝔢𝔬𝔭𝔩𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔨 𝔬𝔣 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔯𝔬𝔬𝔪

atlty’s tarot readings: art commissions, paid readings, spell ritual comms open!

choose a pile below:

pile 1, green eyed cat:

when you leave the room, people think that you’re just really tired and stressed. it’s like you carry a black cloud with you. you look tired and you feel tired emotionally. people can see that you’ve been fighting. with yourself / with others, depends on your personal situation. they can see that you’re a passionate and high energy individual usually but am using that energy in different negative ways. the vibe im picking up on is aries energy and rainy days. it seems like you’ve been stabbed in the back and just drained of positive energy. keep in mind this is just how they see you when you leave. they feel empathy for you and wish you the best though, your ambitions will stay true to you and things will be alright soon. 

message for you: it’s all gonna be ok one day stop overthinking it and stay calm

pile 2, white cat:

when you leave the room, people think that you’re an intellectually strong person. you’ve got fresh ideas and strategies in your mind, you’re a smart person. you seem kind of quiet to others, the vibe i’m getting is white roses and air signs. emotionally healing, comforting, hopeful. they feel like you’re going through something though, and you’d rather just stay in and be with yourself and your own energy. people think you’re an introverted mini extrovert. they feel subconsciously that you seem to be burdened with something, stressed, and just want to take a mental break. you do have a certain aura about you that makes you look beautiful, but in a luna lovegood way if you know what i mean? also, you seem like a great debater when situations arise.  

message for you: take a break and please sleep and rest more 

pile 3, black cat: 

when you leave the room, people think that you give off heavy family energy in a good way pile 3. people see you as someone who is very caring, kind, and emotional. heavy ‘mommy’ energy too 👀👀. some may like your curves / chest especially, you look physically warm if you know what i’m saying. they think that you relate well with nature and have a grounded vibe with you. empathetic, and a sensitive person. they sense that you are a poetic and romantic person in love. for me i’m getting the vibes of like pisces sign and baby’s breath bouquets. someone who likes to take care of people but regrettably neglects themselves sometimes (eg. self care, mental health care). someone who always gives gives gives but doesn’t give back to themselves. 

message for you: do that self care buy that skincare product and start doing art

i hope you enjoyed this pac! please consider purchasing a paid reading by sliding into my dms. reblog and share if possible! i’d love to know if this resonates to you. thank you so much! 

[sunshine-and-christmas-caryls]

My thoughts on The Umbrella Academy’s season 4 Love Triangle. Spoilers below!

Please Note:

This is ridiculously long and consists of my thoughts and interpretations of the characters and their motivations/ feelings based on what we got to see from the show. They aren’t necessarily right or wrong for the characters- they are literally just my interpretations and likes and dislikes with how they handled the love triangle in this season of the Umbrella Academy.

I do not want to get in debates or arguments about the merits of either couple, if the storyline should have been included in the first place, of what is in or out of character, or about who is endgame, or anything else. If you agree with my opinions cool; if you disagree with them cool; if you want to share those thoughts or have a conversation about it, also cool.

But please skip this post if you’re just looking for a fight. This was more for me to organize my thoughts on them, and share for others who found Five and Lila as a couple unexpectedly (for me at least) engaging.

Other Things to Note that I don’t really get into in the main body of this:

-I think there are a hell of a lot of plot holes and inconsistencies, and some poor dialogue scripting in season 4. Some of which really, really bother me. But I think the storylines and plots had potential as concepts and could have been done so much better had there been more money & care to make more episodes. (Some of the concepts would probably have needed much more time than a full season to really be done well though...)

Overall, I didn’t hate season 4 so much as I was kind of underwhelmed and a little disappointed by it. [But if we’re being honest, while I like TUA overall, I do think each season was at least a little bit worse as a whole than the previous one anyway, despite there being good and/or great parts to every season too…]

-I did feel like most of the characters were a little off compared to how they acted in previous seasons. However I don’t know if that had more to do with:

a) lazy and/ or rushed writing, or

b) the plot/ time skip

I am one of those who thinks Five actually is a little calmer in nature, but a lot more manic the more stressful and pressing the situation gets. However he doesn’t have a lot of the same smugness and sarcasm that I was expecting either. Diego doesn’t have the same kind of determined motivation he shows in previous seasons, and Lila is a little less chaotic even if there are still a few hints at it.

Now part of that, I think, is due to the 6 years time difference and the characters growth that we missed during that. Especially considering their new circumstances: Diego and Lila being parents and Five, for the first time since he first time traveled to the future, was not in the middle of (nor actively trying to stop) an apocalypse. Plus ALL the characters had adjustments to make in being without their powers.

Part of it, I’m assuming, is also because of the shortened episode count leading to a poorer script overall. And I’m hoping that had we got a full season we would have been able to see a little more of their previous characterization come through too.

-My opinion about Five’s sexuality since that seems to be a topic of conversation for some who felt he was OOC in that regards:

To be honest I don’t really have a clear idea of it, other than he is absolutely not aromantic, in my opinion. I can respect your opinion if you do/did and were disappointed, but he thought up a wife for himself when he was alone- not friends or a substitute of his family. To me that just means he’s a big romantic at heart.

Whether he’s asexual, Demi-sexual, bi/pan or straight otherwise, I honestly have no clue. I think I gravitate towards him needing an emotional connection for him to have a fulfilling relationship in the show. But I think I saw somewhere that he got around a lot in the comics, and I could see that too if that’s the unspoken assumption they were using.

Side note on Dolores: I thought 5’s romance with her was a great addition to 5’s personal story and as a way to show the basic human nature of needing others, but I’m also kind of glad that she didn’t actually become real, because at the end of the day, she was a delusion of his, and I don’t really want to see that story. (Just my opinion; no harm meant to others who would have liked that plot.)

-Sometime around the middle of season 3, I actually remember thinking that if Aiden/ 5 had been older or Ritu/ Lila younger, I would have shipped the shit out of the characters because of their symmetry and contrasts. However, I also immediately dismissed the thought because the physical age gap IS a little weird for me. I didn’t read their scenes as necessarily romantic or sexual, so much so as they could have been if they were of the same age (at least for me).

In universe, I took it as the characters being kind of fascinated by each other, both getting enjoyment out of goading and poking at one another, but there wasn’t really genuine interest in pursuing each other either. (In hindsight of season 4, though I suppose it was really laying the groundwork for what would eventually turn romantic.)

I thought the writers were going to make Five and Lila the “platonic besties who, to a stranger, looked like they were a couple but really weren’t” and Diego and Lila were going to be the “contentious and passionate couple who argued as much as they loved”.

After season 4 though, I adjusted my thinking, and that’s kind of the basis around my opinions in the main body below.

****************

By the end of season 3, I thought Diego and Lila might have been the best relationship that was still on going. Despite that, I couldn’t bring myself to ship it either. They were never True Love/ OTP material for my tastes, because while they certainly had passion, they lacked the kind of emotional connection that would draw me in. (Don’t ask me what that is specifically because most of the time I have no idea what makes me ship one couple over another…) So, even though I think it had the most development, I also was just not attached to them as a couple.

And maybe my apathy towards them as a couple is making me biased, but Diego and Lila being unhappy with each other and their domestic life made sense to me. It was surprising, because I thought they were going to make them a “happy violent” couple, (or at least something more along the lines of what the rest of the fandom had expected) but not truly shocking either.

Diego and Lila had only known each other for about four months by the time season 3 ended. And again their actual romantic scenes mostly take place during the few days we see on screen in season 2. It might not have been as quick as a “love at first sight” arc, but it was definitely a whirlwind romance.

Also, Lila grew up under the Handler and was primed from the start to be her weapon. So, I think Lila being around Diego for months (I’m working with the assumption that she was in the institute nearly as long, if not longer than Diego) would naturally lead to her becoming infatuated with him.

After all, Diego is a handsome, good, & maybe a little bit goofy man who cares about people and justice, and loves his family; and they had a lot of passion/ sexual connotations to their scenes. I feel like he was everything she thought she ever wanted.

And it was much the same for Diego. She was the wild, manic pixie girl of his dreams whose personal brand of crazy drove him mad as well. He’s got childhood trauma, too, which he relates to with her, and I think in the beginning he kind of viewed her as both damsel in distress and partner in crime, which would appeal to his need to be a hero and his desire to not be alone.

(I’ve always thought of Diego as the most insecure of the siblings, and his need to be THE hero- not just any hero but the main star of the show kind of hero- was the way he hid from his inner insecurities and desire to fit in and be noticed.)

Season 2 was essentially Diego and Lila falling for each other despite being on opposing sides; and it’s clear that both had strong feelings for each other. Season 3 picks up immediately after and is also only a few days long. The main plot point for Diego and Lila’s relationship in this season, was essentially them deciding to give their relationship a go and establishing them as soon to be parents.

Season 3 also continues some precedents that were set in season 2, and continue in season 4. (Lila lying, Diego not noticing or misunderstanding a part of her character, Five and Lila having a side adventure/ arc on their own, and Diego noticing Lila was around Five.)

Now there are obviously more details and nuances to both seasons- showing Diego and Lila both feeling like they can open up to each other a bit more than they felt they could with others, showing their desire for a family, and to be better than their parents, establishing the fear of failure in that regards (at least for Lila) etc.

And while It might not have been my ship, I don’t want to diminish their bond either. Diego and Lila obviously had a connection and cared a great deal about each other, and were probably happy and in love for a while too. But none of that changes that fact that Diego and Lila had a whirlwind romance built amidst lies and high stakes, end-of-the-world stress, on top of an unplanned pregnancy, all within only knowing each other for 4 months at most.

And in light of that, it’s not actually surprising that when the dust settled and things were calmer, the cracks in their foundation were visible. I think they were both swept up in their connection to each other and their dreams of having a family and life better than what they had, that they never saw that maybe they weren’t quite right for each other, maybe they each needed something a little different than what the other could offer.

It’s clear in the first episode that they are not in the best of places as individuals nor as a couple. Diego hates his job and is constantly complaining about his life. He’s a bit suspicious of Lila and her whereabouts but also seems to miss, or at least underestimate, how hard things are on Lila.

Lila is visibly and verbally struggling with her role as a mother, as being too tied to that identity, and is sneaking out of the house to do undercover work and lying about it to her husband. She’s constantly badgered with Diego complaining, but also kind of fails to acknowledge that his motivation for doing a job he hates is to provide for their family.

Neither of them are truly happy with the way their lives turned out. And I think a large part of that was because they tried to change themselves to fit the mold of what they thought they should be in their dreams of a family, rather than finding a balance of being themselves with and as a family.

But there’s a disconnect between them as a couple too. From their scenes in episode 1-4, I got the impression that Diego, while clueless to Lila’s unhappiness/ struggles, nonetheless still had feelings for her because he was still trying to show off to her (the chef had the wrong technique, throwing the axes blind, holding her whilst convincing her to go on the road trip, etc.).

I got the impression that for Lila it was the opposite. She still loved him as a person and a father to her children, but she couldn’t bring herself to feel the same way she did in the previous seasons either. Every overture he made, even if it wasn’t exactly the most romantic, she met with annoyance or disdain. And while she might have laughed at him previously, she also defended him too. This season she was the one poking at him the most without defending him really at all.

Had she never got lost on that subway with Five, maybe they would have been able to work it out and it really was just a slump for them, one of the lower points in the ups and downs that every couple experiences. But (in my opinion at least) her annoyance in Diego’s attempts at reaching out and the fact that after six years she still felt the need to lie to him rather than talk about her unhappiness were more a sign that the romantic love was gone for Lila. That after the initial whirlwind romance and honeymoon period, she wasn’t quite in love with him anymore; at least, not in the “you’re my forever person” kind of way.

But I think she’s stubborn, and she so wanted a family with him, that it kept her from saying anything about what she was going through for so long. And I think Diego was totally oblivious to this in the face of his own struggles with domesticity, but I also think that maybe he was a little less in love than he thought too?

I’m of mixed opinions on this, but it felt a little weird to me that he was more upset- at least in the moment- that she went undercover than that she had potentially cheated. It could just be that in the moment he was so upset to be left out of the action that he wasn’t really thinking about how much bigger of an issue it would be had she cheated. (Or maybe cheating just isn’t as big a deal to him as it would be to me? Like I said I don’t have a good read on this…)

But I could also see it as potentially showing him having settled into his choice in loving her forever rather than truly feeling- without falter- like she was his forever person. Either way he definitely still has feelings for her, and that’s what made me so much more sad for Diego.

Especially because, in the end, it was his brother that it happened with. I feel like her choosing to save Five at the Mexican Consulate in season 2 instead of him has always sat in the back of his mind, and that’s why he’s always noticed when they are together. Of course he went through the realization that she had first used him to get close to/ watch Five, but when she came back to bring him into the Commission he knew she had genuine feelings for him too, and I don’t really think he questioned it much after that.

But it’s something that I think stayed with him, lurking in his subconscious. Knowing that when he was on a metaphorical ledge and first reached out to her for help, she chose Five instead. And that’s why he always noticed when Lila and Five were together.

Also, I think the first two greenhouse scenes spoke volumes about both (though indirectly for Diego & Lila’s) relationships. It was mentioned at least twice in season 3 that Lila’s worried about not being cut out for a maternal, domestic role, and her struggles in the beginning of season 4 probably felt like confirmation of that to her. But then we see in episode 5 that she can be happy in a softer domestic role, when she’s with the right person.

I’m 100% aware that it’s different for Lila and Diego with the kids and real world things like mortgage, school, taxes, etc. than it is for Five and Lila who only had each other & whose sole focus is on surviving and getting back to their home. I understand the nuances make a HUGE difference. But at the end of the day, for Lila they are two sucky -albeit very different kinds of sucky- situations with two different men. And she’s happier making do with one than the other.

Which brings me to the Five/ Lila portion of things. I was VERY caught off guard by the fact that the writers/ producers actually went there. As in all the way up to episode 5, I thought the writers were just making hints of Lila/ Five as a red herring, or to highlight Diego’s insecurities. But then I saw the intro to episode 5, and thought oh, they were actually building them up as a potential couple. And the greenhouse scenes sealed it for me- whatever they might say, the writers really went there and let Five and Lila fall in love.

It was both a slightly uncomfortable and a very pleasant surprise. I’m not a big fan of big age gaps, they tend to leave me feeling a little icky, but there have been several ships of mine that it happens with because I feel like it makes sense with their characters and how deep or strong their emotional connection and history is. I don’t really enjoy that aspect, but I won’t deny that there are some stories that I just accept it & move on (notably book canon Braime for me).

Five and Lila is worse simply because Five is in the body of a 13 year old in the first three seasons, and that’s just a firm no all around for me. But his mind was that of a 58 year old and just because he’s had a weird thing happen to him, doesn’t mean that he suddenly can’t think or feel like any other adult does (I’m honestly kind of thankful they did at least wait, because it would have felt wrong to me when he was physically 13, despite knowing he was much older mentally).

It also helps that that kind of mentally older, physically younger character at some point take on “vampire rules” for me (as in the contrast between mental and physical age of some vampire/ immortal/ supernatural character and their human love interest is so absurd and abstract that it somehow cancels out for me).

And by the time there’s any kind of romantically intimate scenes between the two, Five is 25/26. And even though it’s heavily implied they slept together, all that’s actually shown are a couple of fairly tame kisses.

Furthermore, they’re both mentally adults, and had it ever reset to a timeline without any time travel involved, Lila and Five would probably be the same age (all the super power kids were born on the same day after all). So it’s really not that big of an issue when they actually do get together.

The other aspect that makes me a little uncomfortable about Five and Lila is of course, Diego and Lila’s relationship. I already mentioned that it wasn’t necessarily something I personally shipped, but it was the relationship I think the audience members were most familiar with, and them having a family and still technically being together, made it a little sad to see Five and Lila happy with each other.

I would have personally preferred the writers completely dissolve the Diego/ Lila relationship before actually having Five/ Lila get together, because I’m not a huge fan of cheating storylines, especially when there’s kids involved.

I also feel like they could have hit most of the same emotional beats even if they had let Diego and Lila divorce first? Like it still would have been an emotionally charged reveal scene at the house if Diego had something along the lines of “that was my wife, we only divorced a week ago” or “you’re my brother and she was my wife, what the hell!?”. But I actually think the writers were trying to leave the “end game” couple up to interpretation, which felt too much like a cop out to me.

I think most audience members just needed more screen time of all three & that would have helped quell some of the hate Five & Lila get. We needed more time to see how Diego and Lila’s romance fizzled and died out, and more time to feel the weight of the 6.5 years on the subway building to Five and Lila’s romance.

I think it would have been better received if they had a fourth, fifth, and side season, or made this fourth season extra long (like 12-16 episodes) with a split release (first in August, and the latter half of the episodes during Christmas time) with a mini or side season (or even a movie) of just Five and Lila’s subway adventures. Kind of like how they did a Queen Charlotte story between seasons of Bridgerton.

There would always be some who refused to like it because of the age gap, or because they just prefer Diego/Lila or Five & Lila as purely platonic; but I think more time would have helped shorten the list of haters at least a little (and given the writers an opportunity to work the kinks out of more of the storylines in general).

Like I said earlier I’m not a big fan of the cheating aspect of their relationship, but I also don’t entirely think it’s fair the way so many people seem to view it as Five “letting Lila betray his brother with him” or “Five not caring about his brother is so OOC. He’d never betray Diego just to fuck”.. Because from what I watched, that’s not what happened at all??

Putting aside the “letting her cheat” (because they’re all grown ass adults and no one is responsible for someone else’s actions) I don’t get how people don’t see the love that grew between Five and Lila. Lila might be saying verbally that it was “only survival” and that “it’s over”, but her actions, expressions, and tones all scream love and care and affection.

I think Lila was a little confused when she gets back, but it’s also very obvious that she loves Five in the same way it was obvious in season 2 that Lila was downplaying her interest and affection/ love for Diego when she said “nah” to killing him like the Handler suggested.

And it’s the same for Five. If it had only been a physical or lonely thing, I don’t really think it would have happened. It’s because it was Lila, who is so similar and so opposite him in equal measure that he fell in love with her. And it’s because he loves her that he would want to pursue a full relationship with her. The fact that they’re human and gave into their feelings rather than uphold moral standards wasn’t that crazy of an idea, especially given the somewhat murky circumstances. It was never about purposefully hurting Diego or not caring about him.

Them getting together was two damaged people put in extraordinary circumstances with only each other to rely on for years, without any knowledge of how long they would be alone, surviving through hardships and growing in love. Or at least, that’s how I interpreted their relationship from what we got to see.

None of that felt out of character for either of them to me. Everything through the first two greenhouse scenes (minus a few dialogue/ scripting issues) felt pretty in character to me, all things considered. What did feel wrong and out of character for me was Five hiding the journal for months and him saying he wants to kill Diego and physically fighting him, while the rest of their family fought the Bennifer Blob monster.

I get wanting to show Five struggling with the decision to prioritize the world because for the first time he’s actually experienced love and happiness with a real person; plus they already started him on the do “not save the world” mindset last season. But they could have executed that in a much better way than having him find and hide a cypher book that would take them back home.

[Hell, even within the scene, he could have found it sometime that same morning or within the past couple of days and it would change literally nothing about their argument except the length of time he’s had the journal- because his actions are literally never addressed!]

But while it could just be an expansion of him not wanting to lose the happiness he found, and faltering in his steadfast determinedness to do right by the world and be with his family, it still feels off to his character for me. (Obviously the writers disagree with my interpretation of his character though.)

For me, even though he would grapple with the decision, Five would, in the end at least, still have chosen to go back to save his family & the world because that is so central to him as character. What I think they should have done was have him find it right after or before her gifting him the instant coffee. Have him open the conversation that he found it and Lila being so excited that she initially missed his internal conflict.

It could pan to her realizing what it means to go back, and them having a short talk about it. Lila could say they have to go back because of her kids, they have to go back to save their family. And Five could say he knows but he was happy there with her, and a part of him didn’t want to leave. She could have said she was happy too, but flinched when he went to hold her hand and that could have prompted the start of the argument.

The argument itself could still keep to the core of what it was in the show with only a few dialogue changes, and it would hit all the same emotional tones of the scene but without feeling like Five’s core motivations as a character were totally flipped on its head. Again, that’s just my opinion on it.

I do feel like Five being jealous and lashing out at Diego a bit during the Christmas reveal was in line with how Five might react in that situation. After all, he gets more sarcastic, testy, and even manic with the more stress he’s under. The bracelet line from Diego should have been reworded though. I’m not sure if it was lazy writing, or if they were rushed and/or overlooking things because of the episode cut, but that felt off.

They could have just as easily had him say, “you hate bracelets now” or “you never wear bracelets anymore” before mentioning the traded Valentine’s bracelet, and it still would have shown the disconnect between Diego and Lila in their relationship. A blanket “you hate bracelets” after we had- for two seasons- seen her wear the one he made that she nabbed in season 2 just felt like poor script writing.

And I would be 100% down for the first initial shoves of their fight had that been as far as it went before Five or Diego said they bigger things to worry about and the other passive-aggressively agreed.

Or better yet, if their confrontation happened after the family escaped to Luthor’s, so that the writers could still have Five run off to the subway without having him & Diego, in a sense and literally by Five, abandoning their family & acting stupid in the midst of battle. Because that felt weird and out of character for both of them to me.

I also very much needed a scene where Five apologizes to Diego at least that he hurt him (but not necessarily for loving Lila) and Diego not necessarily forgiving Five, but at least acknowledging him before they died. Because letting things be so unresolved between them and then erasing them from existence was cruel.

All that being said, I very much loved Five and Lila’s relationship with each other. Their dynamic outside of the actual storyline is the perfect mix of enemies to lovers and two broken souls finding solace in each other. And while I do wish they had changed or tweaked a few things, their story was still rather tragically beautiful.

I also firmly believe that had they all survived, Five & Lila probably would have been end game. I think the set up for them was too deep (even if a little too rushed with the episode limit/ being the final season) for Lila to truly be able to go back to Diego. If pushed too much too soon, I think she’d probably try for the sake of the kids. But the unhappiness with each other/ their life together even before the subway time-skip, coupled with the distrust and hurt that comes when a partner cheats, isn’t something I really think Diego and Lila are strong enough as a couple to overcome. And that could have led to even more bitterness and resentment before they finally called it quits.

However, if given enough time, I think Lila would have pulled back from both of them for a bit to figure out what she wanted and focus on her kids, herself, and any ongoing apocalypse situation if there were still one. I think she would have come to the realization that she loves Diego and would always care for him, but that she was no longer in love with him. That when she pictures the rest of her life, it’s Five she wants beside her.

Maybe she procrastinates a bit on talking about it, because she hates the situation and doesn’t want to hurt either one of them, but eventually they’d sort themselves out. But I also think she and Five would have to have a long conversation about taking her choices from her, especially if it involves her kids, because hiding the book was a fairly big betrayal and not something I think she could totally ignore, like they did in the show. (I personally hated that it was even a part of the story to begin with, but Five hiding the journal really needed to be addressed. I hope it would have been if the had more time.)

& If this was along the lines of what they were going to do with the plot if they were to get another season or two, I hope the writers would have used this to let Diego spiral a bit, before confronting his underlying insecurities and moving past it all. Hopefully with a new love interest at some point that is as perfect as can be for him, because I don’t like him sad and he deserves love and a happily ever after too.

On a side note, one thing that I thought was cute & slightly amusing out of context, but firmly believe should have been left on the cutting room floor was the entirety of the van/ “You’re family needs you; I need you” scene. And I know they kept it in to push the uncertainty of the Five/ Lila and Diego/ Lila relationships, but this was too obviously a plot device for the love triangle that just wasn’t believable for me narratively speaking.

Because with Allison’s new powers, Klaus’ ability to raise ghosts that were corporeal, & Diego’s telekinesis with redirecting multiple bullets, what do you mean there were too many enemies for them to handle? And how am I supposed to believe that in the past seven years, Five, who was canonically shot at and chased, never took the time to practice and remaster his blinking abilities?

Especially since they established in episode 4, and earlier in episode 6 when he and Lila returned to the house, that he could apparently- and accurately- time travel over large stretches of time without any issues/ struggles. Not to mention that mere minutes later inside the department store, he’s able blink to the second floor without any problem?

Whatever issues or enjoyment I had with the way they had Five and Lila and Diego’s story unfold, most of it just came down to personal preference, tweaking the script, and needing more episodes. But this scene in particular just felt silly and pointless to me. They could have had Lila say “I need you” in a show of concern, or physically reaching out to Five instead of Diego; only to say the “it’s over” line a few scenes later and it still would have pushed the “who does she choose” narrative. But the fact that the love triangle never gets truly resolved either, makes all of it fall flat, in my opinion. (I thought on first watch that the “it’s over” line was just about the fight and misunderstood by Five, but it could have been about their relationship too. And now we’ll probably never know for sure because they didn’t resolve anything in any of their relationships to each other 😢)

All that being said though, this is a slightly whacky show about very messed up people, who do very messy things all the time- I shouldn’t be surprised they went for the messiest option for how to handle this love triangle…

[quibbs126]

Okay, so I think I have some more ideas for that Transformers au, since that was all my brain let me think about during the second half of my shift

It’s mostly just about Megatron and also the Decepticon cause

Okay so first off, I think if I want to make things the way I do, I’m gonna say that the Decepticons are genuinely fighting for equality for Cybertronians, while the Autobots are fighting to maintain the status quo. It’s not necessarily to say all Autobots want inequality, and some are fighting in hopes to build a better future through more peaceful means, but a lot of them don’t really recognize that the system is or was that bad. And there are still bad Decepticons, either those just wanting to cause mayhem or are just looking for a way to better their own status, but a large portion are fighting for change in Cybertronian government

Part of what makes the Autobots the generally dominant force in this conflict is that they’ve got a lot of propaganda going for them and against the Decepticons, including that being why they’re called “Decepticons”. Not everything said about the Decepticons is untrue, they are willing to do less than savory things to achieve their goals if necessary, but the idea that the Decepticons are evil deceivers is largely propaganda

I think in my head, I want the war to be portrayed as an actual civil war and revolution. When we hear about them in history, yeah there seems to be a relatively obvious good and bad looking back, like with the American Revolution and the Patriots and Loyalists, but in the moment, when they happened, neither side was entirely good or bad, and there’s reasons as to why people stuck to one side or the other, because they were people, not entities with a singular shared ideal

The French Revolution might be a more accurate comparison to the Cybertronian civil war, but also I grew up in America so the AR is my big frame of reference and I don’t know much about the FR other than it being semi inspired by the American one and having a lot of execution. But you get what I’m saying regardless

But also if we want the idea of the Decepticons being “evil”, well you gotta probably add some propaganda to explain why that’s how they’re depicted

Optimus is someone who just wants peace and is genuinely a good person, but he was also raised on Autobot propaganda and was never in a position in life where he would have particularly suffered the system (though he probably did still have hardships, I just don’t know what). Throughout this story he learns to see the truth of the matter more

Meanwhile, back to Megatron, the person I meant to be talking about

Okay so I’m thinking that he’s from a colony or city that was at the bottom rung of Cybertronian society, though I haven’t decided particularly what his job was. It might have been a miner and/or gladiator (I’m debating gladiator to have that be a reason he’s high up in rank), but maybe I should do something else

But anyways, I haven’t worked out the kinks in his backstory, but his birthplace was under control of the Autobots, and he became emboldened by the ideals of the Decepticons and their leader (who at this point I might just make Galvatron), and ended up leading an uprising alongside his fellow bots to overthrow the corrupt leadership in their home, and being successful in this attempt. The Autobots were planning to launch a counterattack to reclaim the area, but the Decepticons caught wind of the uprising and managed to get there first, leading to the place becoming Decepticon territory and being under their protection

While not everyone involved decided to join the Decepticon rebellion afterwards, plenty being content to just have their freedom, Megatron decided to join with them afterwards, wanting to bring their cause to even more places amongst the galaxy

Megatron was a powerful bot, and one with a lot of guts and courage, and he has some skill in leading other bots, which led to him becoming a Decepticon commander. He’s also extremely loyal to those who’ve earned his respect

However his main flaw is that he is deeply emotional, and as such has a tendency to let his emotions overtake his logic and common sense, and that’s when he tends to fail and make the wrong decisions. This tends to particularly be a problem because his main emotion is anger

This is exactly why Starscream ends up getting assigned to Megatron as his second in command; Starscream may not be the most upstanding bot, but he’s very shrewd and very flexible with his circumstances, always looking for a way to come out on top, not letting grudges and emotions get in the way of things. Couple that with his extensive military experience and he was considered a good fit for Megatron, with the idea the two could even each other out

Speaking of Starscream, I’m flirting with the idea he may have at one point been an Autobot, but eventually switched sides alongside his squadron, but that’s neither here nor there

Anyways back to Megatron, he tends to judge people based on their character and direct actions rather than their skills and accomplishments. It’s not to say he can’t work with someone who’s highly skilled but an asshole, he just won’t like them

You’d think this means he’d be able to make peace with the Autobot squadron relatively quickly, but he has a deep hatred for Autobots (probably backstory related but again I don’t know the specifics) that tends to override that idea of judging by their character. Over time he also learns to let this hatred of the Autobots go, particularly because of Optimus as he sees the bot is genuinely good and wants to do what’s right

Also with that, I’m thinking he and Optimus have no prior connection, only meeting now at the time of the story. They probably knew of each other, but had no prior personal relationship

So basically they get enemies to lovers instead of the divorce arc. Well I mean, I’m not sure if they end up together, maybe one or both of them have other people they date. But you get what I mean

And yeah, I think that’s about it. I should probably go do homework now in all honesty

[vhagarlovebot]

FOLKLORE. academic rivals with modern! aemond. you could do a modern au but if that's not your thing then they could totally be battling over who knows high valyrian best.

ACADEMIC RIVALS — MODERN!AEMOND.

content warnings: fem!reader. nothing too explicit.

note: first of all, i’m so, so sorry it took me so long! i was struggling with my writing. like a lot. that’s why i didn’t answer your request sooner. i actually wrote this like ten times lol. i hope you like it and, again, i’m sorry to be answering this so late.

comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

YOU HATE AEMOND TARGARYEN.

you’ve hated him ever since he opened his mouth just to humiliate you, after you answered a question about the history of valyria, to add a tiny, little detail you forgot to mention—that you absolutely knew but thought it wasn’t important—saying that “they would know this if they had studied.” with the most cocky smile you had ever seen. he even had the nerve to wink at you before looking straight ahead, as if nothing had happened.

from then on, every class you shared was the same. you tried to ignore him but as time passed, you couldn’t fight the urge to prove to him that you were better in every aspect. but the more you try, the worse it gets. aemond sees it as a challenge and enjoys riling you up.

you hate aemond targaryen.

you hate his silver hair. you hate his pale blue eyes. you hate his pouty lips. you hate his arrogant and smug ass, always trying to win every argument you two have. you hate how tall and lean he is, and how his muscles flex under his shirt every time he leans down to grab his backpack. you hate how he can’t go a day without opening his mouth to humiliate you, which always end in debates that have the whole class hating you two more than you hate each other. you hate how smart he is, something you’ll never admit aloud, because feeding his ego is the last thing you want. you hate, hate, hate how your heart rate picks up every time he looks at you with such intensity, you can’t even hold eye contact. you hate how everyone seems to be falling head over heels for him. and you absolutely hate that you have found yourself staring at him more times than you should.

everyone knows how you and aemond can’t stand each other. and that is exactly why you professor thought it was a good idea to pair you two for the last project of the semester, that way you could learn to “get along”. as if you’re in pre-school again.

so here you are now, sitting across from him in the library, pretending to read something when, in reality, you can’t stop looking at him, as he’s focused on the paper in front of him.

“are you reading?” he asks all of a sudden, startling you.

“are you blind?” you try to play it cool, leaning back on the chair.

“apparently you are,” aemond laughs, the sound ringing in your ears. “you’re reading the book upside down.” a shiver rolls down your spine, face heating up in embarrassment at getting caught.

“yeah… whatever.” you leave the book aside, trying to ignore the big lump in your throat as you get up, not daring to look at him. “i’ll look for another book.”

what were you thinking?

you hide behind a bookshelf, covering your face with your hands. a million thoughts race through your mind, a lot of them being excuses so you can never have to face him again.

“i’m supposed to hate him,” you whisper, leaning against the bookshelf. you try to repeat the words in your mind but you can’t seem to believe it anymore.

“i don’t believe you,” you open your eyes, surprised that he’s followed you. aemond is looking at you with crossed arms and an amused smile. “and i’m sure you don’t believe that either.”

“you’re arrogant and annoy the shit out of me, of course i hate you!” but that only seems to amuse him even more, which makes you fume.

“nah, i think you want to kiss me.” he says, stepping closer. you take a step back, trying to avoid his intense gaze.

“that mouth of yours does nothing but talk dumb shit.” you slap his hand away when he tries to touch you, but aemond only chuckles, trying again and succeeding this time. his pale hand grabs your hip, caging you between the bookshelf and his body.

“such a fierce little thing.” he whispers, breath tickling your cheeks. “you want to know what else this mouth does?”

your breath hitch in your throat, and you lose the ability to speak. all you can do is surrender to him. the more you look at him, the more you notice certain things about him. like the freckles on his nose or the darkness filling his eyes, pupils so dilated you can barely see the blue.

“what? cat got your tongue?” he teases, hand sliding up, up and up until he cups your face.

“i hate you,” you sigh, closing your eyes and leaning into his touch. you don’t see it, but you can almost hear his smile.

“you keep telling yourself that, love,” he pauses and you stop breathing for a second, anticipation and adrenaline coursing through your body. “but i won.”

the butterflies in your belly go crazy the second you feel his lips against yours.

you hate aemond targaryen. or so you thought.

#note. . . i hope you liked it! some dialogues were taken from this list of prompts. comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

© vhagarlovebot, 2023. — do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

[deepseaorcapt]

Hi, saw you mention missing writing for Revali. Was curious how would you envision (HCs) a Revali that survived Calamity (AoC) but a time skip passes and the events of Totk begin?

Hello! Thanks for your suggestion, I honestly have been thinking and debating on this for quite some time. It seems like it's time that I finally put my ideas out in the world! My first time doing HCs but I hope you enjoy it!

Revali surviving the Calamity and his life with his spouse:

I like to think Revali gained some sort of scar from the fight with Windblight Ganon.

A long scar in the form of a beam that goes across his chest and the side of his neck when he got hit.

From an outsider’s perspective, it didn’t seem that deep, but the medics concluded it was much of an injury to tell him he shouldn’t exert much into physical activities.

Unfortunately, he still does overtrain from time-to-time to the dismay of his, now, spouse.

On top of that, he still leads the rito warriors, organizing the operations and their duties to protect Rito Village. Sometimes, he takes hours just training and planning with the village elder.

It takes a lot of convincing to get him to rest, but the moment he sees the desperation in your eyes, he sighs and heads home with your arm wrapped in his.

"Revali." 

"I know, I… I’m sorry"

Since the calamity, Revali has been trying to be better at depending on others, especially since he’s chosen to have you in his life, not wanting to hurt you more by shutting you out.

Still, bad habits die hard. At the very least, he tries.

Getting home, it became a habit to lightly caress the scar on his chest as you both lie in your shared hammock.

The sensation bothered him for the first couple of months, but eventually, he couldn't sleep without it.

It's like a comforting feeling that he's alive, lucky enough to survive and live with you. Fortunate enough to see Hyrule again in its glory; For that, he's extremely grateful to Goddess Hylia.

There are a lot of days where he wakes up in the middle of the night.

Throat dry and eyes wide, awakened by the nightmare that haunts him in the form of Windblight Ganon. 

It’s only when he feels your body lean towards him in the hammock when he relaxes.

On most days, you wake up feeling his panic, consoling and letting him find comfort in your embrace.

But in the rare instance you stay asleep, he takes a walk or a flight just around the village.

There is just this one time where you woke in the middle of the night, looking for his warm blanket of wings in your shared hammock. 

In a panic, you ran around the village. It was only when you noticed a string of smoke from the flight range that you finally let go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Still a bit sleepy, you make your way to him. Finding him, staring at his bow once more with paranoia in his eyes.

Your embrace wakes him up from the thoughts that plagued his mind, his tears made yours water in response.

Since then, he has been trying his best to wake you up on those nights; Trying to actually ask for help, knowing that he doesn’t have to be alone anymore.

[ineylesian]

i’ve seen a lot of cod hc posts on tiktok recently- the ones about ghost are just???? so many people are saying he’d be an outright abusive partner and since you’re really good at writing him i just wanted to know what you think.

yeah, i’ve definitely seen my fair share of them too.

in the new, reboot version of modern warfare two, simon “ghost” riley does not have a cannon past. the 2009 version is what many people look to as ghost has a series of comics dedicated to his story, which include many clauses that can be used to make headcanons. i’m about to display some of what are technically my own headcanons here, but i want to debate certain points made about ghosts based on logic.

“GHOST WOULD BE ABUSIVE.”

— ghost would not be an abuser. he is a man built off of the horrors induced by his father and wants to be nothing like him. ghost lets old habits die hard along with his father, and wouldn’t dream of laying a hand on anyone he cares about. it’s not his style, at all. any and all pent up violence he holds against his upbringing is taken out on his enemies.

“GHOST DOESN’T CARE ABOUT OTHERS.”

— many people say ghost doesn’t care for others’ emotions whatsoever. this can be proved false, considering how he develops quite a bit of altruism throughout reboot mw2, as we can see in missions like “alone” and the cutscene “no one fights alone.” ghost is very capable of providing support to those he sees struggling and cares about the welfare of those close to him. he even decides to humor soap in “alone”, he knows his teammate is in a rough place and tries to help him relax out of free will. we can also see this point dispelled in the ghost comics, as simon willingly helps pull his brother out of addiction and helps him get his life together.

“GHOST WOULDN’T TOUCH ANYONE OR LET ANYONE TOUCH HIM.”

— something that’s on the more difficult side to discern is whether ghost allows himself to be touched/and or touches others. in the ghost comics, he was violated many times, which, in my opinion, falls into line with things more related to sexual trauma. ghost doesn’t serve much of a reaction when he‘s touched in the reboot, rather it seems he’s just not used to it happening. many people think ghost is horrifying and want to stay as far away from him as possible, which is why he isn’t touched often. as for others, i think it would take a while before he’s comfortable with the idea of casual touch, as adding to the last point, not many people get that close. being social isn’t something ghost is super big on, so he wouldn’t touch others unless he’s sure the timing is appropriate and they’d be alright with it.

“GHOST WOULD NEVER BE IN A RELATIONSHIP.”

— being in a relationship with ghost takes a lot of encouragement. this is something beyond causal ideals, which opens an entirely new door in his head. ghost does not allow many people to get close to him, choosing to act closed off to prevent others from finding too much out. he doesn’t talk much, so the effort of others to peruse him is uncommon. however, if you happen to find him intriguing and push, he wouldn’t be so fast to shut you down. of course, people genuinely wanting to get to know him is a rare concept, and he’ll be quizzical as to why you’d choose him to talk to out of everyone else. he might even ask you why, and if you decide to flatter him, he might just laugh.

— building a relationship with ghost requires a lot of trust, and frankly, he has to be sure you’re not trying to stab him in the back (if we’re consulting the comics, this has happened numerous times). ghost believes in actions over words; throwing yourself in the line of fire for others means so much more than promises. when he’s sure he can trust you, prepare to be accompanied by him a lot more often.

— something i definitely agree with that i see on some headcannon videos is what happens after ghost commits to a relationship. there’s no magic light switch that turns on in his brain when he becomes someone’s partner, and he treats life the same way that he usually does for a while. having had such a rough childhood, ghost most likely wasn’t interested in relationships as he wasn’t stable enough to handle them. because of this, he’s not entirely sure where his duties lie and has to learn that it’s more than just loyalty that brings two people together. when ghost sees how happy you are to simply be around him, he makes an effort to see you more. the fact that you care about what he thinks touches him, and he learns to be more social outside of the field because of it. it takes a lot of time and built trust for him to be open to things like taking his mask off and sleeping in the same bed, but he’s definitely capable of it, just as he’s capable of being a human being, as many people fail to see.

[autumnslance]

FFXIV Write 2024: 4 Reticent

“Argh! I cannot stand it!”

Dark Autumn looked up as C’oretta strode into the office and began—not so much pacing, as agitated bouncing from point to point in a semi-regular pattern. Violet bounced along, trying to keep up, but soon flumped onto her purple rump in the middle of the carpet, looking dizzy.

“So there’s this problem in the lab and Ryss and Zoissette are arguing about the aethercurrent variables except you know how they argue it’s not like a proper fight and it just makes me itchy and in the meanwhile they don’t want to listen to my ideas and Apple isn’t around where is she anyway I haven’t seen Meya today either come to think of it anyroad the variance in current isn’t the problem but those beanpoles are too in the clouds to listen!”

Dark finished the final column, signed off on the sheet, set it aside and sat back to give her full attention to the frustrated Miqo’te.

“Right? So I was doing the math you know I’m good at it for instance you forgot a carry there—” She had glanced at the sheet as she moved, upside down from her perspective, and the carry wouldn’t have been missed if there hadn’t been an energetic pink distraction in the room—“And so I tried to fix it cuz sometimes the best way to just get anything done in there is to just do it while people are having their debates you know and then suddenly I was being tossed out!”

Dark raised an eyebrow.

C’oretta sighed. “Okay yeah I know I need to show my work and not just fix it even if it’s wrong and that’s super itchy to see and also it’s really obvious like I don’t know how such brillliant people miss it but we do get distracted a lot maybe it’s too many cooks but I’m trying to do my part and help.

Dark shook her head, a light smile on her lips.

“I suppose I could just write it down ooh I should get a journal I could make it all cute with stickers and glitter okay maybe not glitter Silent Coeurl would murder me unless I did it outside so it doesn’t get all over the house and I can put the extra stickers on the chocobos’ beaks cuz that’d be adorable and then I’d have a journal with all my notes and ugh I guess I can write out the formulas and long division and whatever else Zoissette wants to see and then they’ll have to pay attention.”

Dark made a thoughtful grunt.

“They probably are done debating by now and maybe willing to listen especially if I look cute and promise to show them how I figured it out but oh could you walk Violet and give her a treat cuz we’re bound to go over time?”

Dark nodded.

“Thanks Dark you’re the best I feel so much better when we talk and I bet Silent Coeurl’s got a journal I can use I’ll need a cute pen too better make it five cuz I’ll lose them anyroad Violet you stay with Auntie Dark I have equations to share.”

She bound out, Violet sighing heavily as she moved over to drape herself over Dark’s feet.

Dark leaned down to scritch the small behemoth between her horns. The walk could wait a few more minutes as she reached for the last add sheet to fix the accounting error.