#but i really really appreciated getting this and thank you so much for it <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[skyward-floored]

Whumptober Day 31 - making amends

Cries wails screams sobs I’m finally done I’m gonna cry

This isn’t the best but it’s DONE and that’s all that matters, babey. Thanks to everybody who’s stuck around and read these, I appreciate you all so so much <3 if you want the long version of the thanks go to ao3 lol.

Thank you guys again 💖

Ao3 link

Warnings: brief injury and blood.

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

Hyrule had punched Wild in the face.

Time hadn’t seen it happen himself, busy washing clothes with a few of the others, but when the yelling had started and they’d rushed back to camp with their swords drawn, it was blatantly obvious what had happened. Blood was streaming from Wild’s nose, and he and Hyrule both looked furious as Warriors forcibly dragged the two of them apart.

Twilight quickly snagged Wild when he tried to leap forward again, and Sky grabbed Hyrule, the other heroes in camp in varying stages of getting up or in the process of intervening, faces alarmed.

Time frowned, staring at the evidence of the brawl in front of him. More than one punch had obviously been thrown, seeing as Hyrule had a split lip and a shiny eye, Wild with scraped knuckles and a scratched chin that was mostly concealed by the blood running down his face, hair messier than usual. Both of them were further dirty and scuffed and giving each other death glares, and Time lowered his sword as he strode forward.

“And what is going on here?” He demanded, and both boys startled, then resumed their glaring.

“They were arguing about something, I didn’t hear it all,” Warriors admitted when neither of them spoke, crossing his arms.

“It was nothing,” Wild hissed under his breath, and Time raised an eyebrow as more blood dripped from his nose.

“Somehow I doubt that,” Time said flatly, and Wild glared at the ground, Hyrule glaring out at the forest. “What on Farore’s green earth were you two fighting about that was so serious you decided hitting each other was the best course of action?”

Instead of replying, Hyrule finally managed to squirm out of Sky’s grip and bolt into the woods.

“Traveler!” Legend shouted from his place near Time, then growled to himself. “...aaaaand nope he’s gone.”

Wild took their distracted states to also make a break for it, and Time sighed as he disappeared in the opposite direction from Hyrule, both heroes gone in moments.

“Did really nobody hear what started it?” he asked wearily, rubbing a hand over his brow.

“I heard Wild say something about Zelda,” Four spoke up, looking uneasy. “But not much else. I was reading.”

“It seemed like one moment they were just arguing and then the next they were rolling around on the ground at each other’s throats,” Warriors sighed, tapping his fingers on his arm as he spoke. “I apologize. I didn’t realize it had gotten so bad.”

“Well, I’m going after Wild,” Twilight said with a frown, already turning in the direction the champion had gone. “These woods are dangerous, I don’t want him running off alone even if he is mad.”

“I’ll go find our traveler,” Time added, and Legend shrugged, turning back the way they’d come.

“Have fun. I don’t want to untangle that mess. I’ll go get the laundry.”

Time went one way and Twilight went the other, and everyone else mostly went back to what they were doing (with the exception of Legend, who nearly tripped in his haste to get back to the river when he realized their clothes were trying to wash away).

Time followed the faint trail Hyrule had left, the signs of someone passing this way a bit more obvious than they’d normally be. Hyrule really must have been mad if he hadn’t taken the time to be as cautious. Time frowned to himself as he walked, purposely taking his time. He figured he’d give Hyrule some time to cool down, but in the meantime he wondered what it was that had set the two of them off so much.

Wild and Hyrule usually got on like a house on fire, and when they argued, it was usually just in jest. Four had said Zelda had come up, but how had that gotten them to the point of blows? Had that really been the only issue?

Time sighed and shook his head. He wouldn’t know until he found the traveler.

Assuming he’s willing to talk.

A few more minutes of walking went by before Time heard a noise, and he followed it, listening intently. He stepped over a small stream, and found Hyule pacing in an angry little circle around the clearing he’d come upon. His face was red and his eye had further swollen, a little bit of blood still staining his lip, but his cheeks also looked damp from something besides blood. Time stepped forward and Hyrule leveled a glare on him, which turned to a confused look as he realized which hero it was.

Time nodded a greeting, but didn’t do anything else, merely stayed where he was while Hyrule blinked at him. His surprise quickly slipped away, and Hyrule huffed, turning away from him.

“Come to drag me back to camp?” he asked, voice strangely level.

“No, Twilight merely mentioned these woods are dangerous, and it would be unwise to be alone,” Time replied, and Hyrule blinked again, then waved him off, his sour expression easing a bit.

“I’m fine, you don’t need to worry about me.”

“Perhaps, but it’s nice to have backup. Especially if you can’t see very well,” Time said, and Hyrule raised an eyebrow.

“I could say the same of you,” he said as he crossed his arms. “Can you see very well? You may keep the lid closed but I’ve seen you flicker your eye before.”

His tone was sharp, and Time frowned. “We’re not here to talk about me,” Time said firmly, and Hyrule turned away again. Time sighed, and made an effort to soften his voice when he spoke again. “Hyrule, what happened?”

The traveler looked down at the leaf litter, bits of moss and grasses sticking up from between the leaves. He nudged at a fern that was still uncurling, then sighed and kicked at the ground.

“Wild doesn’t get it,” he bit out, not looking at Time. “Doesn’t get our situations were different. He thinks— he thinks Zelda is just—”

Hyrule let out a growl of frustration, raising a hand to wipe at his cheek.

“He doesn’t get it!” Hyrule continued as his hands tightened into fists. “I know she’s not weak, but she’s just a young lady! She can’t fight, and if she tried and she was hurt I’d— I’d never forgive myself, and Wild— why does he— rrrgh!”

Hyrule harshly kicked a rock off into the woods, then sat down on a log with a hard thump.

He went silent, and Time cautiously joined his side, sitting beside him on the log when he made no move to stop him. They didn’t speak for several moments, and Time looked up at the trees, most green, some yellow, a handful already turning to orange and red. A bright blue bird flew past, calling a short song into the air, and its mate answered off in the distance.

Hyrule sighed, and his shoulders abruptly slumped.

“I don’t know why I hit him,” Hyrule whispered. “We’ve... it was a stupid argument. Things have just been so tense since Twi...”

He shook his head and stared at the ground, and Time slowly breathed out.

It was true. Their entire group had been on edge since Twilight’s brush with death, and apparently the tension was still as strong as ever despite his recovery. Enough to make two heroes that normally got on better than most of them to exchange blows.

Over Zelda of all things.

“I would bet that the champion feels similarly,” Time said quietly, Hyrule still staring at the ground. “You may have hit him, but it’s quite obvious he hit you back, and I doubt he meant to go so far either.”

“Maybe. We were really going at it,” Hyrule mumbled, wiping more blood off his chin. “I don’t know what came over me. He was being stupid, and I just couldn’t... ugh.”

Hyrule slumped further over, and kicked at the leaves with his boot.

“Do you think he hates me?” he said, so quietly Time barely heard it.

Time sighed, then made sure Hyrule was looking when he shook his head “No. Our champion has been hit by a lot worse than a punch. I doubt he’ll hate you for a broken nose,” Time reassured, and Hyrule’s eyes went wide.

“Did I really break his nose?!”

“It... looked that way,” Time admitted, and guilt rushed across Hyrule’s swelling face. “We have plenty of potions, traveler, I’m sure there’s no permanent harm done.”

Hyrule looked away from him and nodded, though he still looked guilty. He suddenly sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, a strange mixture of emotions on his face.

“I hate this. I hate the shadow,” he whispered. “If it wasn’t for him— I hate that Twilight almost died. If my spell hadn’t worked— it almost didn’t— he...”

His voice died, and Hyrule swallowed as Time’s stomach lurched unpleasantly.

He’d been trying not to dwell on that night, but memories suddenly flooded his brain without his permission. Hyrule pushing and pushing and passing out from sheer exhaustion, Twilight pale as the moon outside as he clung weakly to life, Time staying up to watch the both of them as he weighed his ocarina in his hand, his eye fixed on Twilight’s chest, heart skipping a beat every time his breath hitched.

It had been days now, but the anxiety was still there, and Time hadn’t realized just how much it had been affecting everyone else.

“Traveler, you did admirably,” Time said in a quiet voice, setting a hand on his arm. “Despite everything you managed to heal him, which was more than any of the rest of us could do. You saved Twilight’s life. And you have my eternal thanks for that.”

Hyrule’s face turned red for a reason besides injury, and he looked away as Time squeezed his shoulder.

“But Twilight isn’t the issue at the moment,” Time continued, setting aside his turbulent thoughts. “You and Wild are. Your arguing is none of my business, but coming to blows is a real issue.”

“He deserved it,” Hyrule said viciously, then wilted, sighing. “I know. I should... probably apologize.”

“That seems wise,” Time agreed with a smile, and offered a hand to Hyrule. “Shall we head back?”

Hyrule hesitated, and Time saw something flash in his gaze. “Maybe not... just yet,” he mumbled, and Time nodded.

“That sounds fine. We should probably give him time to cool off further anyway. Our champion has quite the temper."

"He's not the only one, Hyrule admitted with a tiny smile.

Time and Hyrule spent a good hour just sitting there, listening to the woods and the tiny creek, not really talking much at all. Hyrule didn’t heal himself or take the potion Time offered, but Time didn’t press it. If he couldn’t convince him to heal himself now, he was sure Legend or the captain could. Maybe even Wild, once they made up.

Which Time was confident would happen.

They'd better.

Right as the sun began to sink behind the tree trunks, Hyrule raised his head and stood, exhaling slowly. Time stood up as well, and they wordlessly headed back to camp, Hyrule staying quiet.

The walk seemed much shorter on the way back, and it wasn’t long before they broke through the trees of the clearing where they’d set up, six gazes flickering their way, a seventh staring at the ground. The silence stretched, and Wind quickly resumed the conversation he’d paused when Time and Hyrule had appeared, which made everyone get back to what they’d been doing as well.

Time couldn’t help studying Wild as everyone pretended things were normal, and he sighed.

Wild’s nose had obviously been taken care of, the blood cleaned from his face, but his chin had a bandage on it, and his nose looked a little red. He was crouched by the fire, ignoring Hyrule, and stirring some kind of soup that Time had smelled long before they’d arrived. Twilight was sitting beside him, cutting off slices of warm bread, and Time gently clapped Hyrule on the shoulder before he went to go sit down.

Hyrule’s jaw worked for a moment as he stood in the middle of camp, and then he slowly walked over to Wild and Twilight, his hands fidgeting at his sides.

“Do you... need any help?” he asked, and though Wild didn’t react, Twilight looked up, smiling at him.

“Here, you can finish slicing this,” he offered, handing Hyrule the bread and the knife. “You’ll probably get the pieces more even than me anyway.”

Hyrule hesitantly took them, and Twilight scooted over, making room for Hyrule between him and Wild. Hyrule to his credit didn’t hesitate, sitting down without another word, though he left plenty of room between him and the champion.

Time watched them from his place beside Warriors, and the captain watched the two of them intently, obviously ready to get up at the slightest show of aggression. But Wild and Hyrule, despite only being a foot apart, were very effectively pretending the other wasn’t there, Wild sprinkling salt in his soup, Hyrule methodically slicing bread.

Time watched Wild cook, the champion firmly keeping his head turned away from Hyrule, and he raised an eyebrow as he realized what kind of soup he was making. Hyrule’s gaze flickered to the pot as Wild tossed in some herbs, and he blinked, obviously realizing what Time just had.

Wild had made Hyrule’s favorite.

Hyrule swallowed, and he set the bread down onto a cloth, finished slicing it up.

“I’m sorry,” he said, so quietly Time barely made it out. Wild paused in his stirring, his hood effectively hiding his expression from the angle Time was sitting, and Wind’s laugh at something Sky said felt out of place.

Wild slowly leaned over, taking something out of his pouch, and he carefully ladled hot soup into the bowl he’d grabbed.

Then he offered it to Hyrule.

Hyrule blinked, Twilight stilled beside him, and Time and Warriors watched in silence as he stared at the steam rising slowly from the bowl.

“Me too,” Wild whispered, his expression somehow miserable and awkward and exhausted all at the same time.

Hyrule gave him a wobbly smile and accepted the bowl, and though neither of them said anything further, it was like a fog had lifted off of their group. The mood instantly seemed to get lighter, and Warriors gave Time a relieved look.

Time returned it, and watched with a smile as Wild scooted closer to Hyrule, and the two began passing out food to everyone. They began quietly talking, and Time's smile grew as Hyrule blushed, and Wild grinned at something, tapping his nose.

Time stood up and got his own bowl, and watched the two of them carrying on like nothing had happened at all. Hyrule shot him a small smile as he walked over, and Time sat down beside Twilight, returning it as he casually slung an arm around his descendant.

Twilight leaned against him a little, and Time took a sip of soup, the warmth it sent to his stomach nothing compared to the warmth all around him.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Meet the Family 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss needs a last-minute favour for the holidays.(petite!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: Today is my friday bc I booked time off to go see my grammy!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You don’t dare enter the suite again until you hear snoring. You’re cautious as you move around in the low rhythm of Lloyd’s slumber. It begins to dawn on you slowly what you’ve agreed to. You’re used to controlled doses of him. You go to work, do his bidding, then clock out. There might be a few late nights but this is too much. 

One million dollars. You repeat it to yourself like a mantra. With that money you can but your way free of this man once and for all. Hell, you might go back to school so you can be an insufferable boss one day. That might actually make your mother proud. 

You shut yourself in the bathroom and try to wake yourself with a shower. It’s nice but your fatigue is even more obvious as you emerge. Your coffee sits cold and forgotten next to scraps of bacon and an empty cup. 

You go back down to the dining hall and sit to enjoy your coffee without the threat of another awkward moment. You rub your forehead as you lean your elbow on the table and sip. Not bad for hotel brand. 

You return to the room and knock before you let yourself in. You hear stirring in the bed as you do but nothing as lewd as last time. Lloyd groans and whimpers. 

“My head,” he moans. 

“It’s almost ten,” you say. “What time is this brunch at?” 

He whines again and drags a pillow over his head. You open your carry-on and pull out your travel tube of pain killers. You cross to him and grab his hand, shoving the capsules into his palm. 

“Get up,” you say, “what time?” 

He clasps onto your fist and rips the pillow off. He tugs on you as he sits up. His eyes are blood shot and his forehead creased with agony. You want to laugh in his face. Serves him right. 

“Twelve,” he pouts. 

You wrench your hand free and go to the mini fridge. You grab him a bottle of water and toss it onto his lap. He catches it with a flinch. 

“Woah, watch the gems,” he warns. 

“I gotta go get my luggage. Find something appropriate,” you look down at the grey sweatshirt and leggings meant for the flight home. “Get yourself together.” 

You turn and grab your jacket. You’re really not looking forward to this. You agreed to it, though, and you won’t be Lloyd. You’re not going to gripe about a decision you made. One million, one million, one million... 

You go out to your car and grab your bag. You haul it back up and after another cautious tap on the door, you push your way into the room. The bathroom door is open as the shower thrums and Lloyd’s groans underline the hum. You shut it and prop your bag up on the chair. 

You pick out the cashmere cream blouse with the twisted neckline and a pair of soft beige wool trousers. Presentable but not high effort. These people are not going to stress, not any more than he already has. 

You change and search your toiletry bag. You use the wall mirror to get ready as you hear the shower crank off. Lloyd’s clumsy steps slap the tile and he crashes into the door from the inside. You make no effort to check on his as you blend in your blush. 

“Urghhhhh,” he appears like a yeti from a snow drift, staggering with his head nearly beneath his shoulders. “I feel like a sorority girl after rush week.” 

“That’s gross,” you reprimand as you put the blush stick away. “I think maybe this is a good lesson. Take it easy on the mimosas at brunch, huh?” 

“Hair of the dog,” he insists as he clutches the top of the towel and stumbles to the bed. “You wanna get out my Gucci suit. You can iron the jacket--” 

“Excuse me?” You turn. 

“Please, my beloved,” he whines. 

“N. O.” You say. 

“I’m paying you--” 

“That wasn’t what we discussed.” 

“Wives iron suits,” he retorts. 

“In 1952.” You bounce back. “Lloyd. This is business. We sell this thing to your family so you can get your money, and I can get mine, and that’s that. This is a shell. Okay?” 

“Hmph,” he grunts. He sucks his teeth as he thinks and you turn back to the mirror. You see his reflection. You don’t like that twinkle in his eyes. “Well, if we really want to sell this thing, we gotta make it seem natural.” He stands up and wobbles as he braces his forehead. He takes a breath and lumbers towards you, “you gotta act like you’re into me.” 

He brings his hand down and squeezes your ass. It’s more painful than you expect. You’re reminded of that unceremonious pinch issued by another of his bloodline. 

You spin to face him and slap his hand down, “ow. Don’t do that.” 

“Like I said, you’re not going to be engaged to guy you can’t stand. Okay? So you gotta get into it,” he reaches around you with both arms and cups your ass, pulling you flush to him. You drop your mascara and smack his upper stomach. 

“Lloyd,” you growl. 

“Put a little honey in it,” he kneads your ass as you squirm. 

“Let go--” 

“You know I’m right,” he wiggles his hips and the towel slips off. 

“Oh, god!” You push on him harder. 

“Mm, you know, I never realised how tiny you are. I could just...” He bends his knees as he slides one hand down your thigh and the other up your back. He angles to scoop you up. You squeal in surprise. “Ah, easy as pie. Just like me, Pixie stick. 

“Lloyd, put me down,” you writhe in his grasp. “This isn’t okay!” 

“Should we consummate now--” 

“Ew, oh, no.” 

“Ew?” He echoes. “What’s ew about it? I’m rich, I’m attractive--” He pauses as he turns and tosses you toward the bed. You land in a heap with a yelp. “And I’m strong.” 

You don’t have a chance to recover before he’s on top of you. He catches your hands before you can swipe at his face and he pins them above your head. He straddles you, shamelessly naked, and snickers. 

“Trust me, my thrust game is on point,” he rolls his hips and you close your eyes. 

“Lloyd, off. Now.” 

“I’m tryna get off, Pixie, trust,” he leans over you until you feel his breath. “We could have lots of fun. After three years of tension, you know it’s inevitable.” 

“Tension?” You hiss, “oh, I don’t think it’s the kind you think.” 

“You’re stressed. I’m offering you relief. A little extra bang for your buck, here.” 

“No,” you grit out between your teeth, twisting your wrists in his grip and you kick your legs. You don’t like the way it makes the whole bed jostle. “Just get off of me. Please.” 

“I’m trying to get in you,” he snarls. 

Your eyes snap open as his nose comes down next to yours. He leers down at you as his irises no longer sparkle. His features are sinister as he puffs down at you like a wild beast. Your heart jumps into your throat. He’s no longer just a nuisance, he’s a danger. 

You open and close your fingers, “we’ll be late if you don’t.” 

He stares down at you. You feel him breathing, shallow and rabid, as your own heartbeat thumps in your chest. He doesn’t have to stop and there’s really nothing you can do to make him. 

“Mom’s already mad at me,” he grumbles and pushes himself up. He slowly drags himself off and turns his back to you. You watch the muscles tauten and bring yourself up on your elbows. 

“I’ll iron your suit,” you relent. “Just put some underwear one.” 

He scoffs as you carefully roll away from him. You move as if any sudden motion might antagonize him. He gets up and grabs his phone from the night stand. He huffs as he lights up the screen. 

“This licks ass,” he growls. 

You go to his suitcase and open it. You search out the label with the G on it and hold up the red blazer. “Is this the one?” 

He looks at you as he chews his cheek. He nods and quickly goes back to his phone, tapping on it with his thumb. You roll your eyes and find a pair of black slacks to match. You take it all out and unfold the ironing board from the wall. 

You nearly wince as he approaches. He passes you and goes to his bag, bending to sift through it. “You know, I usually like to hang free.” He rips something from the suitcase, “but for you, I’ll tie the hog down.” He stands and steps into the briefs one leg at a time. He snaps the band and puts his hands on his hips. “Happy?” 

“Not really,” you mutter. 

“Yeah, me neither,” he sighs. 

❄️

In the daylight, the Hansen’s mansion appears even more pristine. As you come up the long walk with the elaborate set stone, Lloyd neatens his mustache with a small mother of pearl comb. You give him a side glance but say nothing. He hasn’t stopped fidgeting since you got in the car. 

You get to the front door and prepare yourself for another encounter with the worst people you’ve met. For all your time working for the man next to you, you should be perfectly honed for the task. Still, you’re not sure you can be ready for that bunch. 

Lloyd lets himself in and you follow. As you unzip your booties, he clears his throat. “Hey, mom, we’re here.” 

He receives no answer but you can hear the din humming from another room. He takes off his jacket and hangs it. You put yours next to his. His cheek ticks with dread and he forces his chin up. 

You follow him to the dining room and as he enters, he receives no welcome. A few stray looks are aimed at you but no one acknowledges your arrival. Lloyd clears his throat and sits. You claim the seat next to him and peer around. How jolly of a holiday. 

As your boss shifts beside you, you hold back a yawn. You haven’t got enough sleep for this nonsense. Lloyd sits forward and reaches for the jug of orange juice. Another hand reaches out to catch the crystal decanter. 

“Let us get the formalities out of the way, son,” William snarls. “You owe your mother an apology.” 

Lloyd rescinds his reach and flinches, “an apology?” 

“Yes, you humiliated her last night, storming off like that.” 

Lloyd blinks, as genuinely confused as you’ve ever seen him. His throat bobs and his eyes brows arch, “Mom,” he looks at Gwenyth as she puts her posture as straight as she can. “I’m sorry.” 

“Are you? And what about this one? I’d say she started all this trouble,” she accuses as she points at you with a red acrylic. 

You nearly scoff. Instead, you match her energy. “I have nothing to apologise for.” 

“Pixie,” Lloyd hisses. 

“No, why should I apologise? Tell me exactly what I did and I’ll let you know if I’m sorry.” 

“Pix, what are you doing?” Lloyd murmurs. 

“Well, you...” Gwenyth begins. “You said—You--” 

“You accused me of being out for money. I’m not. You insulted him,” you gesture carelessly to Lloyd, “repeatedly. So, I’m not entirely sure what I did that offended you so much. I’ve been pleasant but it doesn’t mean you can walk all over me.” 

“You are defiant,” she yaps shrilly. 

“I’m being honest. And to apologise wouldn’t be honest,” you shrug. “Now, if you would rather we leave, I’m more than happy to pack up. Obviously, I can’t meet your high standards.” 

“Pixie,” Lloyd whispers. 

The table is silent as you stare across it. You feel the fire burning under your skin. You’re not sure where that came from. Maybe it’s because none of this really matters. You don’t need to impress them. You just need to get that courthouse contract signed and you can be on your merry way. This is all just pretense. 

“Hm,” William pushes the jug toward Lloyd, “you hold onto that one. She’s clever.” 

“William,” Gwenyth yowls and swats her husband’s arm. 

“She has a point,” he says. 

“But--” 

“Suppose we are a bit hard on the boy,” he argues. 

“Or maybe he’s just a disappointment,” Lillian preens. “Daddy, please. He waited forty-three years to meet expectations.” 

“Better late than never,” Benson snorts. “I’d prefer never.” 

There’s a bit of laughter, though Gwenyth and Lillian continue to glare across at you. You would be intimidated if you were concerned about their opinions. But they are nothing compared to your grandmother’s eternal glower or your mother’s grim sighs. You might be better prepared for this than you thought. 

“Exactly what she said,” Lloyd swipes up the jug and stops himself, reaching for your glass instead of his. He fills it and presents it to you with a smirk. “We didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“All this waiting and for what,” Gwenyth fans herself and sniffles. “And he chooses this prissy little--” 

“Gwen,” William warns curtly. “Please, do not spoil another meal.” 

“Me? Spoil? I never.” She whines. 

“Hm, yes, we will not mention Easter then,” William tuts. “Let us just enjoy today. After all, I’m sure she could be at home with her own family.” 

You could and you would rather be. Yet, that is one thing you can blame on Lloyd. The more you think of it, you can blame every single snipe and jab on him. After all, he snared you into this. You might have been easily bought but that doesn’t excuse his machinations. 

You look at him with no effort to conceal the revelation. He meets your eye and his brows twitch. He bares his teeth sheepishly. Your eyes narrow as you center every ounce of exhaustion, chagrin, and general distaste in his direction.  

“You okay, honey pie?” He asks softly. 

You reach for your glass and examine it, “is there prosecco in this? If not, could I request some?” You turn back to the table. You hear Lloyd gulp and feel him shift before he reaches to touch your arm. It’s your turn to indulge. 

[daizedndconfused]

You wouldn't happen to be open to doing a cole x reader where they are asked by wu to train the ninja (because there extremely flexible and skilled) and they end up beating all of them without using many weapons would you??? Mehehehe I love your writing and cole is so Under Appreciated (people should give him so more love!!) and you portray his character so well thank you thank you :3

new girl

a/n - hi lovely!! tysm for the request and kind words hello?!! also loved this request we love us a strong girl hahaha i kinda drew some inspo from our icon ty lee. this lowkey ended up being longer than i thought but SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG SOME RANDOM SICKNESS WAS KICKING MY ASS ALL WEEK??? but we’re getting better now hahaha (also totally agree give my boy cole some love he deserves it) anyways enjoy i hope i did your vision some justice honestly if you want me to make a pt 2 i sooo can with some more one on one moments

characters - cole x reader

type - fluff!!

warnings - just some mild violence in the form of sparring

synopsis - the ninja a relying too much on their elemental powers and master wu needs some help reminding them of what’s really important who better to teach them than you??

“Breathe,” your mother reminded you gently.

Easy for her to say, she wasn’t the one suspended in a middle-split between two rocks over a stream. Regardless, you did as she asked, feeling the air move in and out of your lungs and the sweat forming on your temple.

“The key is concentration–balance,” her voice came from the bank to your right.

Most of what she said you already knew having been doing this for years, but you didn’t mind.

In and out your breaths went, eyes closed, relying only on your hearing until you felt your mother’s presence hovering next to you.

Peaking your eyes open, she stood on a nearby rock smiling down at you.

“Very good,” she nodded, offering you a hand to help you up.

“Thank you,” you exhaled, stretching out your legs a bit after so long in your previous position.

Your mother smoothed your hair back before leading you across the stream and back onto the land where you promptly shoved on your shoes.

The two of you chatted beneath the warm sun and cool breeze all the way back to your house. Though even before entering, you heard voices coming from within.

You shared a look of confusion with your mother.

That was odd, your father should be the only one home at the moment.

You gently pushed the door open and followed the voices to your living room where you saw your father in a deep conversation with an older man.

“Wu!” Your mother chirped, rounding you to greet the stranger.

The old’s eyes crinkled as he smiled beneath his long wispy white beard. Your mother bowed slightly as a sign of respect, and you thought it only best to do the same.

Eventually, you all sat around the living room, each nursing a steaming cup of tea.

“What do we owe this visit?” Your mother asked kindly. Apparently your parents and Master Wu went way back. They learned all they knew from the man himself, which then trickled down to you.

Wu took a sip of tea before answering. “I wish to offer your daughter a job.”

All eyes moved to you.

A job? What kind of job?

Your back straightened slightly at all the attention. “Sir?”

Wu sighed wearily, “I have realized I may need more help than I currently have. Upon opening a tea shop, I have less and less time to teach my students.” He swirled his tea twice before his eyes set upon you. “Would you be open to helping out?”

“Oh, uh… your students are?” You trailed off.

“The ninja, dear,” your mother filled in gently.

Oh. The ninja? What could you possibly teach the ninja? Sure, martial arts was nothing new, and yeah you were trained in combat thanks to your father, but they had elemental powers for heaven's sake.

“I’m not sure how much help I could be,” you answered sheepishly.

“You do not need special abilities to teach,” Wu smiled. “And I fear the elements are why I am seeking this help in the first place. It appears my students are disregarding their training for their elemental powers.”

That made sense. Whenever you got frustrated while training with your father he always reminded you you didn’t need flashy powers to be strong. Because while they may be useful, there’s always a chance they can vanish, and then what?

Eventually you made up your mind. “Okay, I’ll do it.” You quickly looked to your parents, “If that’s alright with you?”

“Of course,” your mother wrapped her arms around you. “We know you’re in safe hands with Wu. Just promise you’ll call?”

“Of course,” you assured her as your father also joined in on saying goodbye.

Before long you were packed with enough things to last a few weeks. You might have to repeat some outfits for a while since the duration of your stay wasn’t specified. But you always had money you could spend on clothes.

“How do we get there?” You asked Master Wu after he informed you he and his students were residing at his tea shop, Steep Wisdom.

He glanced at you out the corner of his, and you just caught the glint of a smirk beneath his beard before golden particles started to form in front of you.

From those particles, something even greater arose. A dragon.

Your mouth gaped open. Wu laughed before tossing your luggage on top of the large white and gold dragon that had just materialized in front of you.

--

The dragon flight was frightening at first, but as you relaxed it wasn’t so bad. You got to see things from an all new perspective. Dragon-eye view style.

Eventually, through the clearing of teas you flew over, you spotted a cozy tea house nestled between the woods.

The dragon dipped lower and lower before let out a warning, “The dragon dissolves, can you stick the landing?”

“Of course,” you smiled. A drop from this height? Easy.

You prepared yourself, but the disappearance of the dragon beneath you still caught you off guard a bit. However, that didn’t stop you from landing perfectly on your feet.

Flawless, you thought as your luggage somehow landed just as gracefully next to you.

The space around you truly was beautiful. A wall surrounded the tea shop and courtyard, and you heard rushing water faintly in the distance, telling you there was some type of natural water nearby.

What you didn’t notice was the five boys lingering outside upon your arrival.

“Uh, anyone gonna introduce us?” A slightly high pitched voice asked.

You snapped your gaze away from the scenery and towards the voice. Five boys around your own age and dressed in colorful gis regarded you curiously.

Before you could introduce yourself, Wu cut in. “This is your new strength trainer. She’ll be taking over lessons when I’m busy. I expect each of you to treat her with respect.”

A course of “Yes, Sensei’s” were said before the bowed in unison.

Then, an older woman with a long braid falling down her back summoned Wu. Something about an inventory issue.

“Excuse me,” he said to you, and then to his students, “someone will need to show her to her new quarters.”

With that he was gone. And you were left with five teenage boys staring at you.

“Um, hi I’m (Y/N). Nice to meet you.” You stuck with a polite introduction.

“Hey there,” a brunette boy with somewhat spiky hair said. “You know we don’t usually get many new people, may you and I could–”

“Kai,” a tall boy with black hair, cut him off. “Don’t be weird. She just got here.”

“What?” Kai gaped. “I was just going to ask if–”

“I apologize for my brother.” This time the voice came from… a titanium robot? Now that’s something you don’t see everyday.

Clearly the surprise was written all over your face at the unanimous chuckle that came from each boy.

“I am Zane,” the robot didn’t seem phased by your surprise. “This is Kai, Jay, Cole, and Lloyd. Kai’s sister also resides with us, but I’m afraid she is busy helping Misako and Master Wu.”

“Oh, that’s no problem,” you responded. “Do one of you know where I’m staying? If I don’t unpack now I’ll never get it done.” You admitted with a laugh.

“I got it,” said the boy with black hair you now knew to be Cole. He walked over, and grabbed each of your bags as though they weighed nothing.

“You don’t have to do that, I can take some of them. I know they’re a little heavy but no one told me how long I’d be staying.”

“Please,” Cole smirked, “it’s nothing. I can lift more than ten times this weight.”

“Show off,” Kai coughed.

“You okay?” Lloyd asked him.

“Yeah just something caught in my throat,” Kai shook his head before coughing the phrase again.

Cole rolled his eyes at Lloyd and Jay laughed. Zane didn’t seem to get it. You even found yourself smiling at the joke before following Cole to your room.

“Don’t mind them,” he said. “They can be a lot sometimes.”

“Something tells me you also fit into that category,” you teased. You are who you hangout with afterall. Though it wasn’t always true, it seemed fitting for this situation.

“I guess you’ll just have to find out won’t you?” Cole joked, looking back at you over his shoulder.

Eventually the two of you climbed a set of stairs hidden in the back of the tea shop. Upstairs was a small apartment looking room with multiple sets of doors, one of them being your own room.

It was a decent size, about the same as the one you had back home, with plenty of closet space.

“It’s not much I know,” Cole said, “but there’s been worse places we’ve stayed trust me.”

“No it’s perfect,” you insisted. “I don’t need a whole lot to get by.”

Cole nodded, setting your stuff down. “There’s two bathrooms, the boys and I share the one on the left, and you’ll be sharing with Nya on the right.”

You nodded, looking around your new room, thinking of all the ways you could make it look homier. Cole didn’t say anything more, but he didn’t leave either. He simply stood in your doorframe, looking at you, looking at your bare room.

“What?” You asked him, smiling.

“Nothing,” he shook his head with a grin. “Sorry, I’ll let you get settled in.”

You wanted to tell him it was no problem, but he vanished before you could. Out of all the boys you had just met, was the best looking in your eyes.

Shiny black hair, tall, and built like the mountains he commanded. Your new job was off to a good start already.

It was well into the evening when you finally met Nya. She sighed thankfully at the sight of you. She loved her brother, and she didn’t have any problems with the boys. They were all equally respectful, but other than Misako she had no other girls to talk to.

You too were happy for another girl to talk to. There was only so much testosterone someone could be around.

The two of you got along quickly as you offered to stock some shelves with her. Even though you were technically here to train the ninja, you weren’t due to start until the next day.

Your alarm woke you up at six thirty sharp. You know you weren’t supposed to start with the boys until eight that morning, but you wanted to get an early start on your first day before you got lazy.

Passing your way to the bathroom, you ran through your morning routine groggily before you headed downstairs to make yourself a cup of tea to wake you up.

Scanning the shelves for something that looked appetizing for the early morning, you didn’t even hear someone approach you from behind.

“I personally like this one,” a familiar voice said from behind you before a hand shot out and grabbed a case off one of the shelves just a hair too high for you to reach.

You jump slightly, startled by the person’s presence.

Spinning around, you saw the voice and arm belonged to Cole. He was smiling softly at you, a case of green tea in his hands. He too held the appearance of just waking up–tousled hair, sleepy eyes, and the lack of a shirt with black plaid pajama pants.

You quickly averted your eyes from his bare chest and instead found refuge in his earth eyes.

“Why green?” You blurted. It was the only question you could think of at this moment. And maybe it would distract him from the fact you were ogling him just a bit.

“Helps with energy,” he shrugged, tossing the case up in one hand. “I’ll start the kettle.”

It took you an embarrassingly long time to follow him to the back of the tea shop where a small kitchen resided.

He filled the kettle up with water and placed it on the stove before taking a seat at the island next.

“I’d make you some breakfast, but I’m afraid it wouldn’t be edible and that’s not the first impression I want you to have of me.” Cole laughed sheepishly.

You laughed with him before you took it upon yourself to scope out the fridge.

“How do you feel about omelets?” You asked after finding multiple cases of eggs. With this many ingredients you would be able to feed the whole team.

“I’m down,” he nodded.

You closed the fridge slightly before you saw a slip of paper taped to the front. It seemed to be a list of written chores, and at the bottom written in all capital letters next to a star were the words, ‘COLE IS NOT ALLOWED IN THE KITCHEN UNSUPERVISED.’

“Jeez, what’d you do?” You giggled, gesturing to the paper.

The boy flushed slightly, shrugging his broad shoulders before saying, “You set fire to the oven one time and suddenly you’re untrustworthy.” He rolled his eyes.

“Funny how that works.”

“Hilarious.” He deadpanned.

“Well since you can’t help with the food why don’t you just grab anything you want to add to the eggs, help me find the pans, and I’ll take care of the cooking part.” You suggested.

“That I can do,” he slipped off the stool.

Even though he wasn’t helping with the actual breakfast, the two of you worked in harmony together. He’d hand you the spatula, chop some vegetables, and give you some spices upon request. However, when you thought you could trust him with cracking an egg and he ended up getting it all over his bare torso you took it upon yourself to tie a black apron around him.

“Seriously?” He laughed as you tied the knot around his waist.

“Yup,” you nodded. “Damn. I’d need a magnifying glass to find your waist.”

He tipped his head back and laughed as you returned to flipping omelets with a smirk.

At this point you had successfully made two cups of tea, and three omelets. On the fourth, you were starting to grow more confident.

“Think I could flip it without a spatula?” You asked.

“No,” Cole shook his head, now seated on the island behind you.

“No faith,” you gasped, offended.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” he shrugged, leaning back on his palms.

“Oh yeah?” You challenged before grasping the pan handle with both hands. You’d never done this before, but how hard could it be really? The answer was not very as you successfully tossed up an omelet and caught it gently on the other side.

You cheered, victorious as Cole also encouraged you, both laughing all the way.

Eventually, more and more people started waking up, and the more competent ones (Zane) began to help you with breakfast.

By the time eight in the morning rolled around, breakfast had been done, dishes were washed, and you were gathered in the courtyard with each of the ninja. Wu had given you the rundown of what he’d like you to work on with his students, and that’s exactly what you’d do.

“So,” you said, shaking the jitters out of your hands. “I’m thinking I’ll just spar one on one with each of you to see what you need to work on. Okay?”

The boys traded uneasy glances. “Are you sure?” Jay asked.

You smiled a little at their apprehension. “Yes, I’m positive. We’re just sparring, remember. But don’t hold back, otherwise it’s just a waste of time.”

“Yeah, you get your ass handed to you by Nya all the time, this shouldn’t be different.” Cole patted Jay on the back.

The others laughed at Jay’s blush and he grumbled something inaudible under his breath.

“Okay Jay, since you’re so worried you’re up first.” You waved him over. “Sensei said no powers.”

“Right,” Jay nodded as he approached you slowly.

“I’m not gonna bite you, Jay.”

“I know that!” He defended as the boys behind him howled with laughter.

You couldn’t help but tease him as the two of you got into a fighting stance.

You dug your feet into the ground and steadied your breathing. The key to combat was focus, controlled breathing, and anticipation. At least that’s what your father told you.

It was no surprise to you that Jay attacked quickly. He was the master of lightning afterall. However, that was what made him so predictable.

He’d throw a series of quick jabs that you avoided with grace. With each attack you’d be just an inch out of reach. Jay was quick–but you were quicker.

You didn’t notice it, but the chatter was nonexistent, and Jay was wholly focused on sparring. Though the sweat building on his forehead, and his attacks slowing were also becoming more prominent.

He threw a high kick in there this time, which was just what you were waiting for. The second his foot came off the ground, you moved to the side, grabbed his ankle, and with your own leg, swept his balancing leg off the ground causing him to fall straight onto his back.

Jay landed with a wheeze, but you helped him up just as quickly. “Your attacks are precise, but they’re sloppy. You try to cram in a lot of combined attacks and hope for the best. If you slow them down a bit you’re more likely to land a few.”

Kai ‘Ohed’ from the sidelines. “You didn’t even get one hit dude.”

Jay glared at him as he took a seat beside Lloyd.

“And you won’t either, your turn.” You pointed to Kai.

The others laughed, but Kai rose, determination clear on his face.

You got into position again, but this time you’d change up your evasion techniques. Since he spent the previous match observing you he no doubt knew some of your moves.

Kai fought more aggressively than Jay, but with less accuracy making him easier to avoid. You twirled around him after a hard punch threw him off balance slightly. With your backs to each other, you only had a moment to grab his arm, crouch, shift your weight, and flip his body over yours.

Kai landed as hard as Jay.

After explaining his problem to him, you called up Zane next. You wanted to get the analyzing robot out of the way before you completely ran out of cards to play.

You had to admit, Zane almost got you, but you quickly threw yourself from his reach with a well timed aerial over his shoulder. Just as you landed he threw a punch, but you were ready for that. You crouched the moment you landed, and swept both his legs.

Standing quickly, you had just enough time to catch the front of his gi, suspending him above the floor ever so slightly. You felt a bit bad–you didn’t want to dent him after all.

Lloyd whistled, impressed, as he was finally called to the stand.

Lloyd, the green ninja. You knew he would also be pretty difficult, but it was like you were in a trance at the moment. You weren’t about to lose your winning streak, were you?

Being as flexible as you were didn’t hurt either. Sure the ninja were pretty flexible, but you could contort yourself into the most uncomfortable positions making it easy to avoid each of the ninja's blows.

All you had to do was wait until they tired themselves out, and then deliver the final blow. It was almost as if they were fighting themselves.

Lloyd looked concentrated, but his stance was off slightly. You feinted one way, and he fell for it easily, shifting all his weight onto one side of his body to prepare for the hit he thought was coming. Instead, you spun and shoved your shoulder hard into the opposite side of his body.

Lloyd crumbled like a house of cards.

When the green ninja retreated with a defeated look on his face, you were left with only one ninja now.

You suspected because of his height, Cole would be slow and off balance, but you were wrong. He was sturdy, and his height only added to his balance if anything. You’ve fought people bigger and stronger than you all the time, bad unlucky for him they only went down one way.

After a while of going through your song and dance of avoidance once again, Cole laughed.

“You’re slippery, huh?” He joked.

You winked before sliding between his legs, kicking the back of his knees and then once more between his shoulder blades to send him tumbling down to the ground.

“Wu was right,” you huffed, wiping the sweat from your forehead. “You guys rely way too much on your powers.”

“Alright, cough it up, where’d you learn that?” Jay asked.

“Learn what?” You laughed, helping a grumpy Cole from the floor.

“You flip around so much I got sick from just looking at you!” Jay whined.

“Lots of practice and some time in the cirque,” she shrugged.

“Like the circus?” Cole asked, looking down at you.

“Not the stuff with the tent and the animals,” you clarified. “More like the Cirque Du Soleil shows, you know? Anyway, I did a lot of acro as a kid. Made it easy to learn combat.”

“That’s awesome,” Kai said. “Have you ever juggled fire?”

“I told you, it’s not the tent type of circus,” you laughed. “It’s classier than that. That’s besides the point, you all have work to do. Lucky for all of you we’re going to start with yoga today! Just as a warm up.”

You giggled behind your hand at the unanimous groan coming from all five boys.

[thegreatestchange]

as soon as i finished s2 of arcane i knew i wanted to hear your takes on it. any opinions as to how they handled caitlyn’s arc, vi’s story, and the development of s2? i would love to hear anything you have to say about this season!!

also - the end of this season has me scouring Ao3 for some fics to fill the void. have you had any recent one shot or fic ideas now that the show has ended? i’ve been dying for a hurt/comfort and really soft sex type of story for cait and vi. maybe something where cait is taking care of vi after the events of 206? lord knows they could both use the comfort and vi deserves to be loved and taken care of. i know you would write that beautifully.

or if you have any recs for fics along those lines? 👀

as always, thanks for your incredible work both inside and outside of fandoms! love hearing from you! <3

Omg hiii! I appreciate that you care what I think haha!

Let me preface this by saying that the criticisms I have for the writing of s2 does not take away the love I have for this show and what it's done for animation as a medium.

Now, with that said...

S2 was a mess.

I said this on twitter, but I think the writers had a lot of ambition — too much ambition — for the amount of episodes they had to wrap this story up cohesively. This AMAZING show suffered because of corporate greed and not having enough time to flesh out character arcs and plots from s1. I think it started off promising. I was really excited to see how they would handle the Zaun/Piltover conflict, Vi's journey toward healing and forgiving herself for her past mistakes, Jinx's descent and then return as a hero, as well as Caitlyn's descent and redemption arc.

Instead we got... that.

There's one word that keeps twirling around in my head: commitment.

The writers lacked commitment (and a diverse writing room) to properly handle the Piltover/Zaun conflict. S1 had such a good starting point, whereas in S2 it's like they diverged from the path and forgot the finish line existed. Sitting Sevika at a table with her oppressors who will most likely tune her out and outvote her on everything is NOT a solution. Why not a complete overhaul of the council? Make it an even split? Instead it's the same people who never gave a fuck in the first place, and Sevika, who helped get half of the population of Zaun hooked on shimmer in the first place. Like what???

They failed to commit to Caitlyn's villain/dictator era. When episode 3 happened, I was skeptical about how they would handle it. And after watching the entire season, I had every right to feel that way. They make her so unapologetic and blasé about gassing Zaunites and letting Ambessa unlawfully arrest people. That's not my Cait from season 1. Does grief change people? Absolutely! But once it settles, you should be able to look back on what you've done and feel remorseful. Cait's lack of remorse was jarring. Her inability to apologize or outwardly own up to everything she did was OOC. You know what could've been the perfect moment for that? When Jayce gathered Piltover and Zaun in that room and she was standing right across from them. Why not have Sevika or Scar call her ass out and hold her feet to the fire? Lay out the facts of what her grief looked like to the innocent people of Zaun who had nothing to do with it? That would've been the perfect time for her to say something.

They failed to commit to Jinx and her story as a whole. At its core, this show was centered around two sisters growing up impoverished and oppressed, constantly separated, but always finding their way back to each other. Jinx is such a heartbreaking character used for trauma porn. Episode 6 fucked me up so badly but I THOUGHT it would lead to something big for her character. Like her stepping into this unwilling hero role and working with Ekko to lead Zaun into a better future like the one Ekko saw in episode 7. BUT LOL NOPE. Instead she's suicidal and self harming while her sister is fucking the oppressor in a prison cell. DA FUCK?

And lastly they failed Vi's character in every possible way. From putting on the badge in the first place to not exploring the depth of her character. She's basically a passenger in s2. Has no agency. Used as a punching bag (literally). And treated as an afterthought. I'm so pissed. There should've been a lot of conflict in act 1 between her and Cait. You mean to tell me Vi, who HATES enforcers. would willingly let her situationship gas her people? Fuck no. Absolutely not. It does not make sense, narratively speaking. Her ending did not make me hopeful. Even if Jinx is alive and moving on from Vi to "break the cycle" that does nothing for Vi's character. She is without family once again, and I fear it would lead to an unhealthy codependent relationship with Cait. Like she'll never be able to voice opposing thoughts or feelings without fear of Cait leaving her AGAIN.

As for the Caitvi relationship. This is tough. On one hand, I was happy to see a lesbian s*x scene in animation for an awarded television show. But on a heavier hand, it rings hollow after everything I've said. Much like the Piltover/Zaun story, Caitvi had a good starting point in season 1. I did have my issues with it because, as a Black woman, seeing someone oppressed get with a cop does nothing for me. But I wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt because I believed the writers knew what they were doing. But I was wrong again. CaitVi is unfortunately one of the weakest points of S2. The writers did not COMMIT to their conflict. It's barely glossed over and then Caitlyn gets rewarded with s*x. And this is why I could never commit to them as a couple. At least not in canon. I liked them in s1 and the idea of what they could've been to each other in s2. And it looks like I'm going to have to find that elsewhere, unfortunately.

Overall, it all comes back to what I said in the beginning: lack of time, a diverse writing room, and corporate greed. I'm disappointed, but unfortunately not surprised. I hope the writers can learn from their mistakes moving forward.

As for fanfiction, I have actually not read any yet! So I don't have any recommendations for you. I need some for myself! I'll get back to you if I find any good ones.

Sorry for the lengthy post! I really just needed to get this all out and I feel so much better.

[marchofmistria]

Hello! I love your headcanons and writing a lot! Thanks for the food

If possible, I'll like to request some headcanons for Balor and a reader that has a pretty obvious crush on him.

Thanks in advance! <3

Hey there, thank you for sending! :)

Balor is not unaccustomed to flirting. He's a handsome man, well-traveled, and a purveyor of expensive goods. He's met many people, so to speak.

But something about your particular attention to him really makes him flustered. And that fact alone scares him.

He does a lot of self-analysis to try and understand what about you makes you special to him, and why your flirting makes his heart race. He's met many attractive people in his life, sure, but you're so much more than just another pretty face to him.

From the first moment he met you on your entrance into Mistria, and he held your hand as you jumped over the broken bridge into the small village, he couldn't get you out of his mind.

From his first impression, you were definitely beautiful. As he got to know you more, he saw you as particularly clever and helpful with his business. You understood him and his line of work.

He's not sure, maybe it has to do with the fact that he's grown surprisingly attached to this village. But he suspects you play no small role in that feeling.

He can tell you like him too. Each day, you make a point to stop by his cart and chat with him. At first, it's mostly about business. But as time passes, you make an effort to learn more about the mysterious merchant and remember each detail of each story he tells you.

He really starts to feel your affections towards him each time you take effort to bring him a beautiful gem or rare archeological find. At first he thanks you, saying it'll be a good sell in the Capital.

But then you emphasize that it's for him, not to be sold. You know that, aside from his work, he truly appreciates the beauty and rarity of such things. He's touched by the thought you put into it.

Even more so when you remember his brief mention of his favorite food, curry, and make an effort to bring it to him as often as possible.

He knew that he loved you on the day you invited him over to the farm for dinner. You told him that you and Reina had worked together on a new curry recipe, and hoped that he liked it.

While you may have tried to brush off any hints suggesting that this was made for him, claiming that you and Reina were simply practicing cooking, he could tell that you didn't offer this meal to him thoughtlessly.

It's the most delicious and comforting thing he'd remembered having since his childhood. Comforting food like this was hard to come by when you lived your life on the road.

Charming and charismatic as he is, he finds it truly difficult to express in words what this gesture meant to him. Really, what all of these thoughtful and kind gestures mean to him.

He begins to associate you with the feeling of home. He hasn't known that feeling in a while.

He goes to great lengths to try and repay you for your kindness. He knows that he's already gained your affection and doesn't need to try to win you over, but he wants to give you even a small piece of the feeling you've given him.

He first brings you rare and expensive gifts he comes into possession of over the course of his travels outside of Mistria. Some of these things, you know well, he could have easily sold for a pretty penny in the Capital. But he chooses to give them to you.

As he gets to know you more, he moves away from gifts he knows would be liked by anyone to gifts specific to your interests and tastes.

He knows how carefully you listen to all his stories, and makes great effort to do the same for you. He even goes so far as to keep notes of the things you've mentioned you liked. He'll bring them for you any chance he gets.

His favorite thing in the world is spending late nights with you at the Inn, swapping stories and laughs well into the night. He feels like he can talk to you forever, and it feels wonderful to have a caring someone to share his thoughts and feelings with.

Another thing he needs to get used to is the trouble he has flirting with you at first. Although you unabashedly like Balor and don't try to hide it, Balor has to fight through some embarrassment to show his feelings back. Something he's not used to.

This is a shock to a man whose whole life was spent charming everyone he meets. He's never been a stranger to grand displays of affection, but with you he takes a different approach. With you, he wants to cultivate intimacy.

He gets shy when you clearly indicate how much you like him, but always wants you to know that the feeling is mutual and he wants your relationship to progress further.

Because of this, it doesn't take long at all for you two to become an official couple. Even long into your relationship, when Balor has vowed to make Mistria (and you specifically) his permanent home, he never stops making sure you feel loved by him. He tells you and shows you every single day.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

can i please get something with jealous love quinn x fem reader:)! love ur writing so much!

yeah absolutely! and thank you so much, that's so sweet of you to say <3

Green With Envy (Love Quinn x fem reader)

Warnings: mild swearing, jealousy, slight possessiveness

Love was fuming as she watched you help out a customer in Anavrin, where you both worked. You were just being polite, she knew that, but she still found herself getting upset. Especially when said customer placed his hand on your arm and moved in closer. A little too close, in her opinion.

"Yo, sis, what's up? Why do you look like me when we're out of gluten free bread?" Forty questioned suddenly, seeming to have popped up from out of nowhere.

"Nothing's up. I'm fine," she lied through her teeth, watching as the guy next to you got closer and closer still. Now his hand was on the small of your back, something that you obviously didn't look comfortable with. Your eyes flickered around the store before landing on where she stood at the cash register, two words discernible in them: help me.

"God damn it," she swore underneath her breath as she pushed past Forty and started to make her way over. "Watch the cash register for me," she commanded without giving him so much as a second glance, stalking across the store over to where you were.

Taking a deep breath, she put on her best customer service smile so she'd looking friendly instead of threatening (like she really wanted to) and casually sidled up beside you. "Hey! Is there anything I can help you with?"

Despite her polite words, her actions told a much different story. Her hand went to the small of your back, smacking the guy's hand away before wrapping her arm around your waist and tugging you against her. If there was one thing Love Quinn didn't do, it was subtle.

The guy grumbled something under his breath about never coming back as he turned and slunk away, clearly displeased by the interruption. "Thank you," you said before giving her an appreciative kiss on the cheek.

"Of course, sweetie. Let me know if another customer gives you a hard time, okay?" She pulled you in for a hug before reluctantly heading back to the register where Forty still was. Before he could open his mouth, however, she spoke first. "I want you to watch them and make sure nobody ever bothers them again, do you understand me?"

She rarely gave him any direct orders. Most of the time when she wanted him to do something for her it was concealed as a harmless suggestion so he'd think he came up with the idea himself. But right now she was far too upset to worry about mincing her words.

"You got it, sis. No problem." He gave her a light pat on the shoulder before heading off in your direction, to pitch another one of his crappy screenplay ideas no doubt.

Over the next week or so, her plan worked perfectly. Forty hung around you so often that most customers left you alone, and that included the ones who were only trying to cop a feel before asking for your number. The only customers who did come up to you were ones that actually needed help with something.

It backfired, however, when you started hanging out with her brother more than you were with her. Apparently you had a brain that was perfect for plucking ripe, juicy ideas from (Forty's words) and because of that he spent a lot of his free time brainstorming with you, which took time away that you and her could be spending together.

She tried not to get jealous, she really did. It was nice that Forty had someone who actually cared about him to help with his screenplays, someone who she knew wouldn't do anything to threaten or jeopardize his sobriety, but still. You were supposed to be her girlfriend, not his.

The final straw came when Forty tried to get you to cancel your date night, one that you'd had planned for weeks in advance. Love adored her brother, but that was taking it a bit too far.

"You need to stop hanging out with him," she said to you one afternoon a day or so later as she was chopping up veggies to put in a stir-fry she was making. "My brother, I mean," she added once she saw the slight look of confusion on your face. "It's nice that he finally has someone other than me to go to, but he's taking all of our time together away from us."

It wasn't hard to tell she was jealous from the way she was gripping the knife so tightly. You'd be afraid if you didn't know her well enough to know she'd never do anything to hurt you.

"Hey, hey." You made your way over to her, wrapping your arms around her from behind as you rested your chin on her shoulder. "I get it. You're feeling a little left out, right? I can start hanging out with him less, it's fine. I just know how much he means to you and didn't want to brush him off if it was going to hurt his feelings."

She melted into your embrace, turning her head slightly so she could look at you. Everything about you was perfect, even more so than she initially thought. Not everyone was so understanding when it came to the codependent relationship she had with her brother, but you were, and it only made her love you that much more.

"Thank you. I love you," she muttered while leaning in to give you a tender kiss as a way of her showing her thanks to you.

You smiled at her words, kissing her back before replying with a soft, "I love you, too. Just try not to get so green with envy next time. It was hard to tell the difference between you and the green juice you sell at Anavrin."

She rolled her eyes and scoffed at the comparison, but you didn't miss the amused look she had on her face. "Alright, dork. Leave me alone so I can finish getting this ready."

"If you say so." You pressed another kiss to her cheek before letting go of her, though you were stopped when she reached out to gently grab you by the arm.

"Hey. It really means a lot to me that you care so much about both me and my brother. So, thank you for that." She was absolutely serious when she spoke, any hint of playfulness from earlier gone.

"There's nothing to thank me for," you insisted with a caring gaze. "I'd do anything for you, Love. Including being the occasional babysitter for your slightly unstable twin brother."

That made her laugh, and she pulled you back in for another kiss, one that lasted longer than the one before it. She could tell you really meant it, every single word, and that was more important to her than anything.

End notes: I love writing for love hehe 🥰

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated | requests are currently open

Main masterlist | You masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?

🏷 taglist: @missmewts @ghot-girl @gilmore-angel @your-next-daydream @alexxavicry @noisy-dumb-piece-of-shit @theonetruepotato87 @caplanreblogsfics @samcvrpenters @bleachxbunny

[sequinsmile-x]

Thankful

Aaron invites Emily to Thanksgiving, and things change between them forever.

-x-

Hi besties <3

This years Thanksgiving fic is a little earlier this year because Thanksgiving is the SGW anniversary so I am posting chapter 80 on Thursday to mark it!!

Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate, and if you're about to have a really hard couple of days with family I am holding more space for you than queer Twitter is for the lyrics of defying gravity.

Here's a little getting together fic for you all, and as always let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: None

Words: 3.6k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Aaron groans and drops his pen to his desk, his fingers pressed into his temples as he looks back and forth between his completed pile of paperwork and what he has left to do. He shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the headache he can feel building behind his eyes, and he blows out a breath. 

“Coffee,” he mumbles to himself as he stands up and grabs his mug. He smiles and nods at Derek as he steps out of his office, and he walks past Emily and JJ’s empty desks. He spots them standing in the kitchenette, both of their backs turned to him, and he’s about to call out and make them aware he’s there, but he comes to a stop when he hears their conversation. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to come to ours for Thanksgiving? Henry would love it, and Will makes enough food to feed the whole street anyway.” 

Emily shakes her head, “It’s okay, I promise,” she replies, “I’m going to my mother’s. Part of my attempt to make good with her again after the whole faking my death thing.”

Aaron doesn’t have to see her face to know it’s a lie. Her relationship with her mother was still tense, at best, and he knew they barely spoke to each other. He’d offered to be a buffer of some sort, to go with her to see her mother - something he saw as his responsibility since her fake death had been his decision - but she’d turned him down. Her smile soft and appreciative as she told him she wouldn’t want to put him through that, her hand on his arm as he sucked in a breath and pretended that a simple touch from her combined with the smell of her perfume didn’t have him under her spell. 

He couldn’t remember when he fell in love with her. It had snuck up on him, his feelings for her shifting from mistrust to friendship to more so slowly that it felt as natural to him as breathing. His love for her so much a part of him he didn’t know what he’d be without it anymore. He couldn’t remember when he fell in love with her, but he remembered when he realised. A familiar pit in his stomach as he stood over her grave that he’d felt at Haley’s funeral, the same suit heavy on his shoulders as he threw a rose on top of her empty coffin - the only flower he’d ever given her. 

He told himself when she was in Paris that he’d do whatever was necessary to bring her home, that one day he’d get a chance to tell her that he loved her. Or at the very least, ask her out on a date. The reality of her return was different. She was a shell of herself, lost in the ruins of who she had once been - a feeling he was all too familiar with - and he knew there was very little she could take on top of the day-to-day of figuring out who she was now. He did his best to be there for her in the way that she’d let him, his support silent at first. Eventually, he knew he had to say something, worried that he’d lose her entirely if he didn’t, and they came to their agreement that she’d tell him when she had a bad day. 

It had restarted whatever closeness they’d had before Doyle. She would spend evenings and her Saturdays with him and Jack. She’d sit on the sidelines of the little boy’s soccer games and cheer for him, her smile as close to hers as Aaron had seen it since just before everything went to hell. Any thought or attempt at telling her how he felt about her had taken a backseat, and he knew that he’d simply be her friend forever if that’s what she needed from him. 

He clears his throat, feeling bad for eavesdropping, and they both turn to look at him, Emily’s smile slightly mischievous, “Sorry, Hotch.” 

He suppresses a smile and reaches behind her to grab the coffee pot, “That’s okay, Prentiss.” 

Outside of work, they only ever called each other by their first name, but they made a point of using surnames at work. They’d exchange a smirk as they did so and it had become a joke of sorts between them. 

JJ scoffs and rolls her eyes at them, “Everyone knows you’re friends, you know,” she says, smiling before she turns to leave, throwing another comment over her shoulder as she walks away, “It’s okay if you guys call each other by your first names in front of the rest of us from time to time.” 

Emily chuckles and shakes her head at JJ as she walks away, “We’ve been rumbled.” 

He hums as he puts the coffee pot back down, “Speaking of being rumbled…” he starts, and she raises her eyebrow at him in response, “You’re spending Thanksgiving at your mother’s?” 

She scrunches her nose up at him, “You heard that?” 

“I did,” he says, hiding his smile behind his mug, “You didn’t want to go to JJ’s?” 

She blows out a breath and looks around, making sure they are still alone, and she shrugs as she looks back at him, “This might sound awful, but I’m not sure I want to spend the day with them being an adorable happy family.”

“That doesn’t sound awful,” he assures her, “Sometimes the holidays just remind us…” 

“Of what we don’t have,” she finishes for him before she sighs and smiles sadly “So I will be perfectly happy eating an entire pan of homemade mac and cheese to myself and hanging out with Sergio.” 

Later, he’d wonder why he says what he says next. He isn’t sure if it’s the sadness she’s trying to hide from him, his love for her, or the thought of her spending a holiday alone, or even a combination of all three, but he finds himself talking before he really thinks about it.

“You could come over and spend the day with us if you’d like.” 

She shakes her head, already ready to argue with him, “Oh, I couldn’t intrude.” 

“It’s not intruding if I invite you,” he says, “Plus, I can promise no happy families. It’s me, Jack, Jess and her and Haley’s dad Roy who does not like me,” he smiles in a way he usually wouldn’t in the office, drawn in by her and the surprised laugh she breathes out, “So if anything, you’d be doing me a favour.”

She presses her lips together and looks at him curiously, and for a moment he’s sure she’s going to turn him down, but instead, she nods, her lips pressed together as she clears her throat, “Okay. That…that sounds nice. I’ll be here.” 

“Good,” he says, trying to tamper down his excitement, “Jack will be so excited - we all know you’re his favourite person.” 

She smiles, “Need me to bring anything?” 

“Maybe that homemade mac and cheese you were talking about?” 

She nods, “Okay,” she smiles at him, her lips pressed together as if she is holding something back, and then she clears her throat again, “I should go do some work.”

He nods, “I hear your boss is a bit of a tyrant.” 

She chuckles and shrugs, throwing him a wink before she walks away, “He’s not all bad.” 

___

She almost turns around and goes home. 

She finds herself standing on his doorstep, a casserole dish full of Mac and Cheese balancing on one of her hands and a bottle of wine tucked up under her arm, wondering why she’d agreed to this. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to spend the day with Aaron and Jack, it was her favourite thing to do, but spending Thanksgiving with them, a day for families and spending time with those you love, was enough to make her ache. 

She loved them in a way she wasn’t sure she had a right to. 

She’d loved Jack the moment she met him. He was adorable and cranky in Haley’s arms as she walked into the office looking for Aaron, his cries at least in part coming from him picking up on his mother’s bad mood. Emily offered to take Jack for a few minutes when Haley tried to pretend she wasn’t furious as she looked up at Aaron’s office, and she’d been slightly surprised when she took her up on it. She’d sat at her desk for a few minutes with Jack in her lap and it was enough time for her to be completely charmed by him. Her love for him had grown with her relationship with him, and he was without a doubt one of the most important people in her life. Happiness and joy all rolled up into the smile of a 6-year-old boy who had already survived so much more than he should have. 

Her love for Aaron was different. It had come out of nowhere, hit her like a truck as she stepped into his apartment and found him missing and his blood on the carpet. It was something she’d shoved down, something she’d pretended wasn’t there, and she’d been there for him as his world fell apart around him. There were times when she thought he might feel the same way too, fleeting moments when their eyes would meet and maybe felt as close to definitely as it ever had. Then Doyle happened. Tearing her sense of self apart for a second time, and she was glad there was nothing more between her and Aaron that would have put him in danger. 

Since she came home they’d become closer again, any initial awkwardness gone as quickly as it had appeared, and sometimes she’d find him looking at him like he used to again. She wanted more with him, with him and Jack - to be part of an actual family for the first time in her life - but she wasn’t sure she was enough for them anymore. 

She wasn’t sure if she’d ever get back to the Emily that Aaron may have once loved. 

She’s drawn out of herself when the door to the apartment is torn open, and she looks up to meet Aaron’s eyes. A smile on his face that only seemed to exist in the confines of his home, a soft side of him that belongs to his son that he would let her see too. 

“Hi,” he says, taking the casserole dish from her, “Happy Thanksgiving.”

She chuckles, “Happy Thanksgiving,” she tilts her head at him curiously, “How did you know I was out here? I didn’t knock.” 

He steps back to let her into the apartment, “I saw you standing out here. I knew if I let you think about it any longer you’d leave.” 

She presses her lips together and nods, “Sometimes I worry you know me a little too well.” 

He laughs and puts the mac and cheese down on the kitchen counter, “I don’t think that’s possible,” he smiles over at Jessica who is standing in the kitchen and cooking, “Jess, you remember Emily.” 

Jessica nods, “Happy Thanksgiving, Emily.” 

“Happy Thanksgiving,” she says, “Everything smells amazing.” 

Jack interrupts them before they can say anything else. He runs down the hall from his bedroom, throwing himself into Emily’s arms, “Emmy!”

“Hi Jack,” she says, hugging him close as she kisses his forehead before she pulls back, “Happy Thanksgiving.”

“You too,” he smiles, “I was just showing Grandpa the train set you got me for my birthday.” 

Emily looks up and smiles at a man she’d only seen briefly once before at his daughter’s funeral. She didn’t have to be good at what she did to see the way Roy looks at her, followed by the way he looks at Aaron. Distrust and a hint of anger in his eyes that feels misplaced. It makes her shackles rise, her grip on Jack in her arms tightening as she slips on a mask she’d had for as long as she could remember. One that had grown with her since she was the same age as the little boy in her arms. 

She paints on a smile and adjusts her hold on Jack, holding one hand out to Roy for him to shake, “Nice to meet you, Mr Brooks.” 

He hums and looks down at her hand before he steps past her to get a drink from the kitchen, “You’re Aaron’s friend.” 

She narrows her eyes as he turns his back and then she catches Aaron’s gaze, sees the I told you he hates me shining in his eyes, and she clears her throat, ready to protect the man she loves from anything, even his ex-father-in-law. 

“Yes,” she says, her smile as polite as it could be, “I am.”

___

Dinner is hard work. 

She has to stop herself from interjecting each time Roy says something passive-aggressive, or occasionally downright aggressive, to Aaron. The only things that stop her are the fact that Jack is in the room and that she’s sure Aaron wouldn’t appreciate her inserting herself into complicated family affairs. 

By the time Jessica and Roy leave, she can’t help but wonder how such a horrid man had raised two such wonderful women. It feels unkind, especially when she acknowledges what he has lost, but it sticks in her mind. How he’s so obviously lost in his own grief that he’s taking it out on those around him, specifically Aaron, without acknowledging what he’d lost too. Or that he was the father of his grandson, the absolute hero of his grandson, and that if he carried on down the path he was taking Jack would only grow to resent him for treating his father that way as he gets older. 

She blows out a breath and sinks further into Aaron’s couch, glass of wine in hand, and she smiles at the sound of chattering coming from Jack’s bedroom down the hall. She closes her eyes and imagines a world where this was her life. Where she sat here every evening listening to her Hotchner boys talk to each other, or snuggled between them on the couch every night. 

She opens her eyes when she hears the bedroom door opening and she smiles at Aaron as he walks towards her, “He okay?” 

Aaron nods as he sits down, “He’s okay. Holidays are hard - he misses Haley.” 

“You both do,” she says, smiling softly at him.“It’s okay to miss her even though you weren't together anymore when she died. You’ve known her most of your life,” she reaches out for him, her hand on his arm before she can think about it, “It’s okay to miss her.”

He nods, blowing out a slow breath, chuckling humourlessly as he reaches for his glass of wine on the coffee table, grateful when her hand doesn’t slip away from his arm, her palm warm against his skin “And you say I know you too well.” 

She hums, “I don’t think that’s possible,” she smiles when he does at her repetition of his words earlier that day, “Can I ask you something?” 

“Always.” 

There’s something so honest about the way he says it that it surprises her for a moment, stealing the breath from her lungs as she smiles at him, “Has Roy always been like that with you?” 

“Standoffish?” 

“I was going to go for rude,” she mutters, “But yeah. Has he always been like that?” 

He sighs and sinks back against the couch, a lifetime of memories hitting him all at once as he thinks about the man who had never quite liked him, but never used to hate him like he did now. 

“He was never really a fan of mine,” he answers, turning his head to look at her, “But Haley loved me and he loved her so he…put up with me. Then when we got divorced he stopped pretending.” 

She clenches her jaw, desperate to keep her words back long enough so she can make sure they’re measured. She was used to controlling her feelings for him around him but this felt different, the need to protect him so strong she felt it thumping alongside her heart in his chest. 

“Still, you’re Jack’s dad, and his only parent,” she has a sip of wine, “He should show you the respect you deserve.” 

“To him, this is the respect I deserve. After all, I’m the reason his daughter is dead.” 

He only realises he’s said it outloud when she gasps, an intake of breath that she can’t stop as her eyes go wide. He knows he wouldn’t say it in front of anyone else but she had this way of flaying him open, of tearing him apart at the seams where he’d sewn himself back together, and he could never quite figure out if he liked it or not. 

Being entirely known by someone was a privilege, but it was a vulnerability too, and it had been so long since he’d let someone get this close to him. 

“Aaron…” she chokes out, leaning forward to place her glass of wine down on the table, “You…you don’t believe that do you?” 

“I…” he trails off, placing his glass of wine next to hers before he turns, his knee knocking against hers the first indication he gets of how close she is to him now, “Sometimes.” 

She isn’t sure if she wants to yell at him or hug him. Or both. Fierce protectiveness of him rolling through her again, even though it was him that she wanted to protect him from. She reaches out for him, and she hesitates for a second, her hand frozen in the air, before she cups his cheek and makes him look at her. 

“It isn’t your fault,” she says, her eyes searching his, “The man whose fault it is died. He’s dead. You…you’re the reason your son is alive, and thriving and the happiest kid I’ve ever met.” She says, and he chuckles, the sound thick as it catches in his chest, “And you always joke I’m his favourite person but it’s you, Aaron. You’re his favourite person. He loves you so much.” 

“I know,” he chokes out, leaning into the warmth of her palm against his cheek, trying to commit it all to memory for when it would come to an end, “Usually I can rationalise it. I know it’s not my fault. But...It’s just hard to remember sometimes.” 

“I know,” she replies, smiling sadly when their eyes meet, “Better than most.” 

They sit like that, in their half embrace with her hand against his cheek, staring at each other, and for a moment she thinks about leaning in, about pressing her lips against his and kissing him, but she stops herself. Her bravery snuffed out as quickly as it had ignited, not entirely sure she could take the leap unless she knew he wanted to jump with her too. 

She pulls back abruptly, leaving his cheek cold as her hand slips to her lap and she clears her throat. “I should get going. Thanks for having me.” 

Aaron frowns and stands up at the same time she does, “Em-”

“Sergio will be waiting for me,” she says, cutting him off as she walks towards the front door, “He is grumpy when I don’t-”

“Emily,” he says, firmer this time, stopping her from getting any further away by standing in front of her, “What’s wrong?” 

She shakes her head, “If I have to say it, I’ve misread a lot over the years and I am really bad at my job.” 

He sucks in a breath, and he knows it’s now or never, that if he lets her leave it would be over before it could even start. They were at a crossroads, two paths laid out in front of them, and he knew there was only one that he wanted to walk.

And it was the one where she’d be right by his side. 

He steps forward, making it so there’s no space between them, and he tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear. He sucks in a breath at the same time she does, and their eyes meet for a second before he leans in, her lips soft against his. It’s everything and more than they’d both imagined over the years, a moment in time and one that would last forever, drawing out around them like the finest of thread as they moved forward together. Everything they could, and would have, leading back to this one kiss. 

When she pulls back she rests her forehead against his, her lips pressed together before she licks them, chasing the taste of him on her skin, “So,” she says, chuckling breathlessly, “I wasn’t misreading anything.”

He shakes his head and pulls back to look at her, both of his arms wrapped around her to keep her in place, “Em, I…”

She nods and rests her forehead against his again, “I know,” she cups the back of his head, her nails scratching against his scalp, “I know.” 

They stand there, pressed against each other as they breathe each other in, the acknowledgement of everything else there was left to say, and he chuckles and pulls back to look at her, “Would it be cheesy for me to say this is something I’m thankful for?” 

She laughs, the sound wet as it catches on a sob and she nods, making her forehead knock against his, “Yes,” she says, wrapping her arms around his neck and dragging him into a kiss, “But I’ll let it slide this once.” 

She doesn’t have to say that she’s thankful too, because he already knows. 

[emberunderscore]

guys im going crazy with the edits over here (im sure this has been done with this song before but idc i wanted to)

also guys im going to include the rambling in the actual edit post this time because i actually cannot contain myself . (i went on and on for this one i had a lot of thoughts )

OK BIG ONE COOL ONE WHEN IT SAYS "I'm a worthless human being" there is an overlay during the word "worthless" of the prison scene and the word worthless is layed over sherbert's forehead, think of it like the word worthless and failure going hand in hand because icarus doesn't belive they are worth anything if they are not useful and they cannot be useful if theyre a failure which they wholeheartedly believe they are THATS IT THATS MY FAVORITE PART OF THIS EDIT (not really but shshshshs)

ok back to being in order

"I had left you" and "I forgave you" being right next to each other is SO PERFECT because that part is referencing the cave obviously and immediately after centross dies icarus is like 'get the fuck away from me why did you do that, holy shit you were gonna kill me' and then he tells them he can bring centross back and they immediately forgive him (and its not rlly great editing wise cause obviously theres not much contrast between the clips but the sacrifices we make are very small)

"I forgot you" this line is kinda hard to understand how ive coded it cause centross is on the screen so it kinda makes it seems like im saying they forgot centross but NO! they forgot about fable, they were so focused on bringing centross back that they completely lost sight of fable and his actions and how that hurt everyone around them

then the "said you loved me" I LOVE PUTTING VOICELINES IN EDITS CHAT. I LOVE IT SO MUCH AHHHH. i love when the words and they go together and theyre similar and i go crazy . im knawing at the bars of my enclosure

(i was going to put a voicline of fable's 'you will not survive' from cathedral of war in this part, but only chose not too cause it made the audio too chaotic but its still the clip from when he said that so just KNOW) i really love the "said you'd kill me" part. it just looks really cool to me, please appreciate my work thank you goodnight <3

THE WHOLE NEXT PART. THE BEAT DROP IF YOU WILL.

the text is all shaky, the way ive always imagined this part of the song in my brain is like full mental breakdown, hands pulling at hair hitting at your head . theres something inside of you and you want it OUT and you will hurt yourself to makes that happen . so thats kind of the vibe i wanted to portray, however . im not that skilled and capcut only has so many free text effects so . we make do. i also couldn't put that effect on all the text because for it to look right i couldn't use an 'in' animation for the text so having all of it just appear looked kind of weird so i had to comprimise a little

also the font is called "honest" which . if you know me i love putting subliminal messaging in my font usage when i can which i managed to do a couple times in this edit actually. the font is very jagged which fits for the idea of someone who's reaching their breaking point and all the rotation and bold and italics are all just thrown around there. making em all look interesting . for *flavour*

the other font that's got a cool title and this one i actually only picked because of the title and that's "innocent" its used in a lot of frames like "you possessed me", "you controlled me" and "or he'll hurt me" all times, the word 'me' uses the innocent font, because with the song it sounds like icarus is trying to remove any of the blame from themself, it was fable's fault because he manipulated me i didn't do anything wrong. so they see themself as 'innocent' which is also why that text is yellow cause its about icarus. i wouldn't have used that font if not for the title icl. but it also makes the times when that font isn't used all the more interesting, this can be seen most notably in "said you'd kill me", and both of the times in the "he's still speaking, speaking for me" parts , and i will let you cook on that cause not everything needs to be explained in great detail as much as id like to do that

most of the fonts at this one were just me throwing shit at a wall and seeing what fit the vibe ill be so fr, i knew i wanted a lot of variation cause its a chaotic sounding song and the colours also have very little thought when it comes to the difference between white/yellow/red for the most part . green is for fable and purple is just whatever the fuck i felt like .

final thing i'm going to say when it goes "i'm a [worthless human being" there is no text on that part and i just want it to be known on the record that it wasn't an accident and it was an aethetic choice and i can't come up with a bullshit important reason for why there's no text on the screen for that SINGLE PART and honestly it just looked so shit with text there but it also looks so out of place with it being the only part but im sure many of you didn't even notice there wasnt text there before i pointed it out so . i can also point out all the slightly off timings for you if you wanna see my creation through my critical self-loathing eyes /silly

[blightowl]

Oh thank goodness I'm turning the question hose on full blast get ready

I'm once again putting under the cut because why say in a few words what I can blabber in many!

Cretaceous Kate might be my favorite combination of words ever. I immediately love her. I know trilobites are nowhere near the cretaceous period but I thought Katherine might appreciate my trilo-angle

How does Kate travel back in time? Does she have any particular bird friends? Do any prehistoric avian birds live with her in the 19th century? (If so, do they have contemporary bird costumes in case of unexpected visitors? Or perhaps can the ancient bird friends hold really still and pretend to be models?)

What is Kate's go-to lunch food? What does she do if her quill breaks while she's out sketching? Is her notebook loose leaf - and if so have her note pages ever gone exploding everywhere - or is it like a journal? Did it start out dummy thicc or has she added c's paper over time?

(May I call her Kate? Or does she prefer Katherine? I like that she spells Katherine with a K. I'm watching Anne of Green Gables (again) and as Anne Shirley says, Katherine with a K is so much more alluring.)

What is Kate's favorite bird of prey? How does she feel about spiders? Has she ever seen a live penguin?

Pick one of your ocs. (It can still be Katherine "Cretaceous Kate" Fleet :) ) That oc makes a sandwich. What do they make?

> Maybe one of your ocs does not know what sandwiches are, so they make their best guess. Maybe one of your ocs is like "I love sandwiches but how?? make????" because they've always had their food made for them. Sandwich fun >:3{

Toli Toli ravioli. I'm not sure what species of snake he is yet. I've been looking around Wikipedia now and then at different snake species, but it's not been a great way to narrow it down because I start out with focus but the hyperlinks are so shiny and blue and next thing I know I'm learning about agglutination.

But the fact that you introduced Katherine Fleet in return is like full on serendipity because one of the birds I think of for him is Apsaravis ukhaana! Another bird is the Western Parotia bird-of-paradise! The way they create a whole umbrella collar of feathers is exactly what Toli would do. Bobbing from side to side with his neck feathers fanned out. Looking like a big ol satellite dish snake goofus.

I don't think Toli is venomous, but he's a relatively new oc so I have much more to discover yet! I keep envisioning him as more of a constrictor so when he morphs back into a snake from a quarterstaff (re: being thrown at bad guy), bad guy suddenly has to deal with 300+ lbs of big muscly feather rope coiling around them (not to mention a good solid bite from one end).

Toli is a bit of a troll so when he's hanging out on Morwenna's body, he loves to mess with people. When one of Morwenna's friends noticed for the first time her tattoo moving, they tried to poke at him. So he turned off her skin and poked back.

As a tattoo, he's maybe three feet long, and about three to four inches wide. When he's out and about, he's beeg. Still haven't figured out how big, but big enough to be a menace to any mid-sized sedan.

That doesn't mean he wouldn't love chin scritchies. He would jump out of a plane for chin scritches. And that says a lot because first he'd have to learn how to jump. He would do big snuggles. All the scritchies plz

Okay uh this reply is getting really long. Speed round.

He and Wenna work together well now, but they've been together a long time. At first they butted heads and sucked eggs. Now they goo. He can talk to other snakes but he's so big and feathered (is bird??? but is snek???? what is???) that other snakes generally are too scared. Fun fact: when he's in tattoo mode, Morwenna can talk to snakes.

I'm in the mood to introspect, does anyone wanna play OC telephone? Send me a fact about one of your ocs, and then ask a question about one of mine (can be a specific chatacter if you know any or generic if you don't) then I'll answer and add a follow up question, and we see how long we can keep the thread going!! Someone please play w me I'm boredddd.

[jenoslutie]

bad idea, right? l l.dh

❥ Synopsis: You swear you've moved on, you swear you're happy in your relationship. But why is Donghyuck still on your mind? and why are you in his bed again?

❥ Genre: Toxic FWB!Donghyuck, angst, smut, ??? with benefits au, she is toxic.

❥ Warnings: disloyalty, blackmailing, suggestive but no actual smut, just a whole lot of shitty behaviour from mc, even more implications to recording during sex jeno x reader, haechan x reader. not a happy ending.

❥ Word count: 3.8K

❥ a/n: hellooo angels <3 so uh, this is part 2 of is it casual!!! i KNOW this is not what u guys wanted but i fear this is how the story went!!! as always, feedback is much appreciated :P !! also THANK U TO @be-my-sunrise and @hanniesbrat for letting me yap to you guys about this odd ass fic LMAO

You hated the fact your boyfriend was roommates with the man that ruined you. You hated walking into your boyfriend’s apartment and seeing his face there, staring back at you as if nothing ever happened. You hated having sex with your boyfriend knowing he could come home at any time and hear you. You hated the fact that he still thought that your boyfriend was your friend and treated him like one. 

Jeno, your boyfriend, has been nothing but the best to you. He comforted you through all the late nights you wanted to spend crying, he held you through every moment you spent crying over that fucker until you realized how much you really like him. No man has ever treated you the way Jeno has. No love has ever compared to the love Jeno has given you and you wouldn't trade it for the word. 

“Jeno, I really don’t want to see him, can you just come over instead?” 

That’s how alot of your nights went, 

baby <3: donghyuck told me i need to move out baby <3: he fucking sucks  baby <3: he said i need to break up with u or leave because he can't stand seeing u around 

you: what the actual fuck  you: i'm so sorry  you: he actually sucks so bad  you: you’re welcome to move in with me in the meantime  you: or however long u want you: i'm so sorry for dragging u into this mess jen you: seriously 

baby <3: it’s not your fault baby  baby <3: we’re in this together. 

“You packing up your shit or what, loverboy?” Donghyuck smirked, leaning against Jeno’s door frame. 

“Use your eyes, Donghyuck.” Jeno scoffed, not sparing him a glance. He continued to pack his stuff into his boxes. 

“Oh, don’t forget to pack your girlfriend’s clothes! In Fact, I might have some in my room too, you want me to bring them to you?” 

“Fuck off, Donghyuck.” 

One thing you know for sure is Donghyuck fucking sucks. If he didn’t make that clear the first time around. You’d say you wish the worst upon him. However, some nights, you get deep in your thoughts and thoughts about your relationship with Donghyuck and you miss it. But one thing never changed, you always had Jeno by your side, every time, without fail. 

“Jeno, what if I never met you?” 

“Where’s this coming from?” He chuckled, pulling you in closer and kissing your head for reassurance. “I’m sure i’d find you one way or another, you're my person” 

It was little things like this that made you fall for him. You truly believe Jeno was the one for you. No one treated you half as good as he did. 

“I never want to leave you, angel. You’re mine forever” You smiled, cuddling closer to Jeno, you smiled to yourself when his scent hit you. He smelled heavenly, like he always did, the same comfort and warmth that drew you into him in the first place making you desire him even more today. 

unknown: hey unknown: i'm sure you know who this is unknown: we need to talk unknown: don’t tell jeno. 

Your heart sank. Donghyuck? It can’t be. 

you: who is this? 

unknown: [attachment: 1 video]  unknown: remember me? 

Your jaw dropped, clicking on the video to see you bent over the sink in a bathroom you could never forget, ever. Your hair a mess, you're deliriously calling yourself ‘his forever’. You fucking hated that he had anything to black mail you with such as this. You hated yourself for giving him that type of power. 

you: donghyuck. you: we have nothing to say to each other  you: dont try to contact me again

unknown: you’d be fine with me sending this to your boyfriend though, right?

Immediately, you called him. He was sick in the head and only got more and more out of hand. 

“Donghyuck, you’re not fucking funny” you spat, venom laced in every word

“Funny? Babe, who said I was trying to be funny?” He chuckled “I’m serious, did you forget your little boyfriend lives right next door?” 

You heard him knock on the wall, screaming out your boyfriend’s name.  “Jeno!” 

“Shut the fuck up!” A faint voice in the back. 

“Fuck off, Donghyuck.” And with that you hung up, falling back onto your bed with a sigh. 

“Jeno stop! They’ll hear us” You giggled, lightly pushing Jeno’s head away from his spot in between your legs. He’d been trying to get you worked up through your clothes the whole time youve been over at his apartment. This was the last week of him living here before he officially moves in with you and you both were ecstatic. Last week you’d have to see his face, last week you’d have to be in constant fear that he’ll overhear you and Jeno having sex and last week you’d have to even think about him.  

“We’re alone, baby” he pinned your arms down with one hand. “Let me eat you out baby, promise you’ll be good?” You gave in, nodding at the promise of Jenos mouth on you. 

“I’ll be good.” 

Jeno was talented with his tongue. His technique was unlike any other. He knew how to have you arching into his touch, begging for more, cumming within seconds. You’d describe him as a walking sex god. His way of having you craving more was unmatched. And you don’t think you’ve ever had anyone quite like that before. Not even Donghyuck. 

“Stop thinking about that fucker” Your boyfriend frowned, he could read you like a book and you genuinely dont know how he does it “He doesnt matter right now, it’s just you and me baby” 

‘I love you, Jeno” 

“I love you more than you can imagine, baby” 

He kissed you hard, taking your mind off anything you’d been thinking of before. All you could think of Jeno’s mouth on yours, kissing you with everything he had. Within a moment, Jeno had you undressed, laying under him in all your naked glory. Smiling your love drunk smile at him. Jeno trailed kisses down your body, all the way down to your pussy. 

“Jeno?” you called out, looking down at him with big, innocent eyes. 

“Yes, baby?” he smiled at you sweetly, starting to trail his tongue along your slit, “Pretty, pretty pussy” he mumbled under his breath. 

“Please fuck me already, I cant wait anymore. I need you in me” You pleaded, knowing your boyfriend would do anything but deny you anything.  

“God, I love you. Anything for you baby” He took no time before hovering over you again, pressing a soft kiss to your mouth. “My angel, all mine.” 

“She’s yours?” A voice suddenly interrupted you, a voice that was all too familiar. Jeno’s body hurriedly covered yours, protecting you from the eyes of the intruder. 

“Donghyuck, get the fuck out” Jeno spat. 

“No, If i remember correctly, she’s mine” 

“I was never yours,” You countered, pulling Jeno onto you closer. 

“Oh yeah? You want me to show you the video? As far as i know, your little boyfriend here still hasn’t seen it” 

You felt Jeno freeze, “What video?” Jeno asked you, looking at you with nothing but confusion in his eyes. 

Donghyuck kissed his teeth, “Oh, guess I shouldn't have brought that up right now. right, Y/N?” 

“Donghyuck, just get the fuck out.” 

Jeno pulled away from you as soon as Donghyuck left. 

“What video?” He repeated, looking into your eyes with the same hurt that you once looked into his with.  “Donghyuck recorded a video of us the last time we fucked, it was at his parents house on christmas, remember? Well, basically in the video he made me say I’m his forever. And he wont stop blackmailing me with it” 

Jeno sighed. “He's blackmailing you?”  

“Yeah, look.” you reached for your phone to find the messages Donghyuck had sent you the other day. You looked away from Jeno, feeling ashamed from the whole situation. Donghyuck apparently lived to humiliate you, never letting you catch a break from his antics. 

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” He hugged you, pulling your naked body against his own. “You could’ve told me sooner, I could’ve dealt with him myself” Tears were threatening to slip from your eyes, feeling overwhelmed by Jeno’s loving words and Donghyuck’s bullshit. 

“But i couldn’t, Jeno” Full on sobbing now, you let the tears fall freely down your cheeks. “I was too scared, he’s insane Jeno” Jeno just hummed, rubbing your back reassuringly. 

“You’re not mad?” You asked 

“It’s not fair of me to be mad, this happened before we were dating, it’s not fair for me to hold that against you.” He smiled, pulling away to look at your red, puffy, tear stained face. “My baby. Not his, I promise I’ll get us out of here as soon as i can” 

donghyuck: i heard u and ur little bf were on a break  donghyuck: i think i have some ways to make your break worthwhile babe

you: i'm not your babe. donghyuck.  you: plus, you’re the reason we’re on break in the first place. you: dont contact me again, please. 

donghyuck: you know you miss me y/n.  donghyuck: don’t you miss the way i made you go crazy?  donghyuck: remember the time in my car? after i caught you kissing that fucking loser chenle? donghyuck: you were on me like you needed me to breathe. you can’t even deny it.  donghyuck: now open the door baby, i’m outside. 

You were quick to open the front door, seeing Donghyuck standing infront of you with that stupid fucking smirk on his face. He knew that was your weakness. He knew he was your weakness. 

“Miss me?” You hated his cocky tone. You hated that you actually opened the door for him. You hated that you actually did miss him. He let out a chuckle at your silence, he knew how to read you like none other. Not even Jeno. 

“C’mon, let me in. You know you want to” You hated yourself for actually stepping aside and allowing him into your house, into your safe space. Memories of the endless nights you spent crying over him in the safety of your own house all blurry. 

“H-Hyuck..”

 “Oh? We’re back to Hyuck now?” 

“Is it bad that I want you to kiss me right now?” Your words were hushed but loud enough for him. 

“Yeah?” You nodded, looking down at your feet, too scared to look at him. “Why don’t you beg for it? Since you like to do that a whole lot hmm?” He smiled when he heard you whimper, inching closer to you slowly until he was close enough to wrap his arms around you. 

“Are you gonna beg or are you gonna make me wait longer?” Immediately, a sob left your lips “Hyuck, please kiss me. I missed your lips on mine so much” 

And without another word, his lips were pressing onto yours with the same intensity you craved, the same intensity that once drew you into him. You swear you almost fell for him again when he cups your face, tilting your head up and deepening the kiss. He began walking, lips still on yours forcing you to walk backwards blindly until suddenly you were falling back onto your couch where he followed suit. 

You pulled away, admiring the honey skinned man above you with a small smile. “I missed this” A soft smile mirrored the one adorning your face. 

“I missed you like crazy, no other girl compared to you”

“Why’d it take you so long to realize?” He paused, staring at you blankly. 

“Just– took me a minute..” with a sigh, he leaned down and kissed you again, trailing his hands under your shirt. Grazing your warm skin with his cold hands, sending chills through your body. 

“You gonna let me fuck you? Remind you how I'm so much better than your little boyfriend?” 

“He’s not my boyfriend.” 

“Oh? Last time I checked you were smitten over that guy” 

You hated where this conversation was going so you tried your best to change the topic, “You’re the one about to fuck me right now no?” 

“Shut u–” He was cut off by the sound of your phone ringing. 

Jeno. 

Jeno has given you space for almost a month now. Only sending you messages to check in on you occasionally. All to which you replied positively, ensuring him that you’ll be ready to get back with him soon. In reality though, you were nowhere near getting back with Jeno. You spent nearly every night of the past month in Donghyuck’s bed, either cuddled into him or you under him. Something about the way Donghyuck made you feel was unmatched and you’ll never get sick of saying that. 

You stepped into Donghyuck’s kitchen early in the morning, seeing him in just a pair of grey sweatpants with his back turned towards you. It didn’t take long for the waft of the pancakes he’d been cooking up to reach you. 

You gawked, “You’re making breakfast?” He turned to you, an unimpressed look on his face (though you could see him fighting a smile.) “Does that surprise you?” and you fought the urge to affirm that it does truly surprise you to see him doing something nice for you. 

Instead, you hummed, “No, not really.” With a small smile on your lips, you walked up to Donghyuck who had switched his attention back to the pancakes he had cooking on the stove, wrapping your arms around his bare torso. His skin was soft and warm under your touch. 

“Good morning, angel” He hummed, placing a hand over yours. The two of you swayed in a comfortable silence. This is how times with Donghyuck usually went, quiet and calm until he was suddenly kissing up on you, feeling up on you or begging to be inside you. 

“You wanna sit and wait at the table for me?” You chirped a “sure” and detached from him, making your way over to the dining table, sitting down on your favourite chair. 

baby <3: good morning angel baby <3: can i see you today?  baby <3: i miss you, wanna hear your voice so bad :( 

you: of course you can :)  you: actually, let me just call you right now. you can still come over later tho :P 

It didn't take long for an incoming call from Jeno to come through.  

“Good morning angel” You could hear his smile through the phone. A smile creeping up on your own face just from picturing the beautiful smile adorning his face. “Good morning, handsome” He chuckled, “You sleep well?” 

“You could say that..” You trailed off, thinking of the way you were cuddled into Hyuck last night, the warmth of his body keeping your own body warm. You slept better than you have in a while. 

“I miss sleeping with you” Jeno admits, the pout in his voice too obvious. You frowned, feeling the guilt take over you. 

“You can stay the night tonight if you want” You lowered your voice, hoping Hyuck wouldn’t hear all the way in the kitchen. 

“Oh, no, I still want to give you space! I think i’d be impeding a little if I were to stay the night” 

“I don't think so, you’re welcome to stay” 

You heard him sigh in relief, “Okay then, I’ll come by in a bit.” 

“See you soon, angel.” 

You bid your farewells and that's when you noticed Hyuck walking into the room. “Who was that?” He questioned, setting the two plates of pancakes down. You broke eye contact with him, focusing your  attention onto the pancakes in front of you. 

“I asked you something, you know?” 

“It was Jeno.” 

He hummed, wordlessly digging into his own plate of pancakes. You felt so guilty. This isn’t where you belonged. You belong next to Jeno, in his arms, under him, near him. You belong with Jeno. Someone who treats you like a proper human. But you found yourself running back to Donghyuck and you hated it. Worst part of it all? Donghyuck didn’t even know you and Jeno aren’t officially broken up. You’d been too scared to tell him, too scared of the possibility of losing Donghyuck in your life. So you’d decide it’s best if he doesn’t know your relationship with Jeno. It’s not even like it matters, right?

“What the actual fuck” Jeno gawked, looking down on his phone screen. He’d originally planned for today to be a rest day after the hell of a day he had at work yesterday but his peace was disrupted when suddenly he got a text from his ex roommate. 

donghyuck: hey jeno  donghyuck: its me donghyuck donghyuck: i know you might hate me right now but you might wanna see this.  donghyuck: [attachment: 1 video]  donghyuck: before you come for me, i had no clue you guys weren’t officially broken up at the time of this  donghyuck: im sorry jeno. 

Attached was a video of a girl, naked body on all fours as the person behind the camera (presumingly Donghyuck) pounded into her from behind. The problem? The problem was the girl had the same hair as you, the same body, the same everything as you. Even that little tattoo on your shoulder that read “delicate” in a beautiful cursive font that Jeno had helped pick out. Everything was you. 

jeno: donghyuck.  jeno: thanks for this… i genuinely can't believe it. 

Within a heartbeat, Jeno was pulling up your contact. 

baby <3: hi angel  baby <3: can i come over? i left my hoodie at ur house and i need it

you: sureeee thing!  you: let me know when ur abt to reach <3 

Jeno, furious, hurriedly grabbed his keys and got in his car. He thought after what you’d been through, you’d know how it feels to get your heartbroken like this. He’d expected you of all people to be better than this but no, you had to be the absolute worst of them all. He thought maybe you of all people would keep his heart safe but no, you clearly gave no fucks about him or his heart. 

He managed to calm down by the time he got to your apartment. Breathing in and out before ringing the doorbell. 

“Hi Jen!” You chirped, allowing him in. You were wearing an oversized shirt that exposed your newly tattooed shoulder. The same tattoo that was visible in the video. Jeno’s heart sank the more he looked at you. The girl he once gave his heart, his love, his everything to, is the one who he’s currently dreading speaking to. In other words, he hates you right now. Hate was one word he would’ve never imagined using with you. 

“You okay, love?” you frowned, wrapping your arms around him tightly, pulling him close into you. He hated the innocent look on your face as you peered up into his own. He had a soulless look in his eyes. “I’m fine,” He forced a tight lipped smile, peeling your arms off him. “I’m gonna– uh, grab my clothes.” 

You watched as he walked into your room and went straight for your closet, rummaging through to find his hoodie. 

“Jeno” You started, walking into the room behind him. “What’s wrong? Talk to me baby,” 

Jeno sneered, turning around to look at you with narrowed eyes. “What's wrong Y/N?” His voice raised, he wasn't yelling but it was clear that he was upset. “What’s wrong is while I gave you space to figure out your shit with Donghyuck, you went out and were fucking him. While continuing to lead me on. Isn’t that wrong, Y/N? Don’t you think I deserve any loyalty? Any love in return? While I sat here, impatiently waiting for you to come back to me, you were taking advantage of it and fucking the reason we were on break. Don’t you remember how we met in the first place? All those nights I spent being a shoulder for you to cry on, being there for you every step of the way. Don’t you think I deserve anything?” The hurt in his eyes was more than evident. You looked dumbfounded, eyes wide in shock as you stood frozen. 

“Jeno–” You cut yourself off, at a loss for words. Sighing in defeat, you gave him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I felt so incredibly guilty everytime, but something in me just couldn't stop. I hate myself for doing it and you deserve to hate me for it too but I’m so sorry.” 

“I loved you, Y/N. How do you think it feels when your girlfriend’s ex fling– or whatever he was, texts you randomly, telling you that your girlfriend had been fucking him the whole time you’d been on break? It’s not a great feeling, I’ll tell you that. Oh, and having to see a video of it? Even worse. I’m sorry Y/N but I don’t deserve this. I gave you my everything and you couldn’t even spare me an ounce of loyalty.” 

“Jeno, a-are you leaving me?” He felt like laughing in your face, do you seriously think he’ll stay after this? 

“Genuinely, do you think I’d wanna stay after the fact, Y/N? Honestly, I want nothing to do with you anymore. Consider us done.” He gave you that same, tight lipped smile, gathered his belongings and walked out your bedroom door. 

“Jeno!” You called out, he stopped in his steps, turning to look at you one last time “I’m so sorry, I love you.” Tears were threatening to spill from your eyes. 

“No, you really don't. Goodbye Y/N, don’t contact me again, please, for my sake.” And with that, he walked out your door, leaving you broken and in tears. You had no one to blame but yourself. If you hadn’t let Donghyuck in that day, you would have saved yourself from this mess, you would've still have Jeno in your life and you wouldn't be here, crying in your doorway. 

Filled with rage, you dialled Donghyuck’s number, he picked up on the second ring. 

“Why the fuck wouldn’t you tell me, Y/N?” He spat, you could tell he was angry. “You had me thinking this whole time, you’d broken up but in reality, you were leading on poor Jeno and still fucking me? How do you think that makes either of us feel? I know I did something wrong the first time around but this time? You fucked up, Y/N.” 

“Hyuck liste–” 

“Don’t call me, Y/N.” 

With that, he hung up. Your heart dropped, you felt as if you’d lost it all in the span of under an hour. All that you cared about in life had been ripped out of your hands with no one to blame but yourself. You hated what you’d done, hated what you’d done to these two poor men. Neither of them deserved it, especially Jeno and you had no way of going back in time and fixing it. 

[inkpot909]

Staying Over at Rohan Kishibe’s House for the First Time Headcanons

↳ Takes place after Kira escapes from the Duwang gang and assumes another identity. Reader hinted to be a stand user. Gender neutral Reader with they/them pronouns.

A/n: I’ve recently started the live action Thus Spoke Kishibe Rohan show; I adore it. I’m rather biased towards his character, finding him wildly entertaining. But Araki, man, I get you. I hope y’all enjoy! <3

Warning(s): Canon-typical danger; mentions of Kira’s crimes and the threat he imposes.

You’ve only been going out with Rohan Kishibe for a month or two.

When the manga artist took a month’s long hiatus from publishing- due to a rather unfortunate scuffle with one Josuke Higashitaka -you’d been by his side nearly day and night. Considering the state his body was in, you couldn’t help but fuss over him all throughout his recovery.

The first couple of days, Rohan was bitter and insisted his own independence.

He claimed he ‘doesn’t need anyone's help,’ but his protests ultimately fell on deaf ears. You made it clear you weren’t budging; proving to be just as stubborn as he is.

A handful of days into the new routine, he grew quiet.

And to your credit, you didn’t bat much of an eye at that. If you were at all curious over the change in his behavior, you kept that to yourself. Keeping any questions inside as you continued to dote on him. He… found that he really appreciated that.

And after some consideration, the free time allowing him to ponder, he better understood just how much he appreciates you. Wrapping his head around it… he would’ve grown annoyed at the trouble if it weren’t for his fondness for you.

Eventually, after the first week, it seemed to you that he suddenly started silently accepting your help out of the blue.

There was no pushing back against the assistance anymore.

Rohan needed to take the time off from writing or drawing, liking it or not. Having specifically your company to fill the time… well, he could’ve done worse (His exact words).

Whether or not Rohan had the beating coming didn’t once cross your mind; only your concern over his well-being plagued your thoughts. It’s something that came so naturally to you; the feelings you harbor for the mangaka not as much of a hassle for you to digest.

That said, neither did the possibility of him taking any note of your kindness reach your train of thought. At first, you figured him saying any variation of ‘thank you’ was just politeness.

Even less… your deeper affection for him is another thing you figured would go unaddressed.

Regardless of your surprise, the time spent together proved to be the final push the both of you needed to make things official.

He was direct, almost blunt, when asking you about your feelings for him. Eyes focused on you, falling expectantly silent as he waited for an answer.

When did he notice? How long had he been sitting on asking you about it? You could only guess.

But the relationship that formed that day was more than enough for you to be thankful you’d been completely honest with him.

It’s… rather unfortunate a relationship blossomed during such a dark time for the quiet town of Morioh. Koichi, Josuke, and Okuyasu shared the same sentiment on the matter.

Fast forward a handful of weeks later and tragedy struck once more. The killer had taken action against a middle schooler; his devilish nature clearly knowing no bounds.

Although you didn’t know the boy personally, just the thought of this illusive killer taking a young life so completely without hint or warning… it quickly sent shivers down your spine.

After meeting with the other stand users in town, the lump in your throat only became thicker. Your stomach swirling, and palms growing clammy.

The little crowd dissipated, and you walked away from the gathering with Rohan at your side.

The two of you remained silent; too much on both of your minds to speak.

Your gaze stayed fixated on the concrete sidewalk. Each crack or indent from lifetimes of personalities meeting it’s support… and possibility being used by him. Your feet potentially using a route the killar has utilized at least once in all his time in Morioh.

That possibility makes another chill roll down your spine.

You would’ve thought yourself to be paranoid if it weren’t the reality you were living. Succumbing to your darkest thoughts and a level of anxiety that somehow kept your body moving forward on auto-pilot.

At least, that was until the mangaka walking beside you finally spoke up, not even glancing your way as he did so.

“You should stay at my place for the time being,” he had told you in a frank tone, “Your stand still hasn’t fully materialized like mine or the others. If the killer were to track you down, you’d likely be at a huge disadvantage. You’re staying with me.”

If it were coming from anyone else, you’d consider slapping them due to the nerve of it.

But this is Rohan... and reading into his actions has become second nature to you at this point.

You considered his earlier quietness; what you could discern from a quick glance minutes ago. His eyes sharp with thought, and the usually comfortable silence uncharacteristically thick with tension.

His decisive tone didn’t come as a surprise, but the commanding structure and choice of his words got the gears in your mind turning.

Rohan’s reasoning was sound, sure, but a man like him only ever speaks with purpose. He means every word that pools from his lips. And the knowledge of how he behaves in less extreme situations implicitly reveals his true feelings on the matter:

He was worried.

The killer’s ability to murder right underneath everyone’s noses became real that day. Even with the previous killings, it didn’t strike the same chord until one of your own had been lost. No one is untouchable, and that strikes fear.

In short, the killer is dangerous... and likely knows people are out looking for him.

Rohan would never speak a word of it, but that reality struck unease even into him. If not maybe for his own sake, but for yours.

And it manifests exactly as you would expect. It could easily be left unnoticed, but you know him better than to miss such a thing.

Rohan’s motivation was clear in no time at all. The town just lost another child to this monster. Hell if he’s going to let you to slip right from underneath his nose.

Coupled with that overwhelming weight, as well as his own personal habits, don’t expect staying over at his place to feel all that domestic as soon as you cross through the front door.

Rohan cares about you, of course, but that’s not going to stop him from making a beeline to his office the moment he’s inside.

His home is familiar, no doubt, but provides no ease with him locked up inside his workroom.

There isn’t a single noise behind the closed door, letting your mind trick yourself into believing you’re alone.

The bare walls and simple furniture don’t assist much either, even with art hung up on display here and there. Only glimpses of personal touch.

As soon as the killer is dealt with, you resolve to press him about decorating more.

Hours pass your very first day there, and the only time you ever see him is when he grabbed a little box of leftovers from the refrigerator for dinner. Only focused on satisfying his body’s need for food, he hadn’t said a passing word.

You knew better than to expect it anyway.

Instead, he simply warmed the food up in an expensive-looking microwave a room away, and was already working on shoving it impatiently in his mouth while walking right back upstairs...

How long has it been since then? you wonder, a soft sigh escaping your lips.

You’ve sat yourself on Rohan's welcoming couch, distracting yourself with late night television. The couch itself is a dull color with nice cushions, but lacking in the household-to-household personality only developed from frequent use. A blanket is lazily wrapped around your shoulders, and the TV screen gently illuminates your face. Your eyes gloss over the images that flash at you, seeing but not registering a single thing.

There’s no helping it. A child died today; the killer slick and tactful enough not to leave a single trace behind.

You turn away from the screen in quiet defeat, gaze wandering out a window in the living room. The sun has long vanished beneath the horizon, the darkness outside not allowing you to view much of anything.

Your eyelids are fighting to stay open despite your mind’s business.

A part of you was hoping Rohan would’ve come out of his study by now, but that’s proven to be wishful thinking. Honestly… I should know better than to assume that, you think to yourself.

The current situation has undoubtedly given him a lot to ponder; a lot to write down.

Staring back towards at his living room TV once more, you give no honest effort in trying to paying attention. The sitcom provides no escape, no relief. It’s nothing real, after all. Just a fantasy fabricated by some executive. The constant laugh tracks grating on the eardrums. The volume is low, but it still disrupts regardless.

Alas, nothing else of such promising whimsy is on.

Your fingertips curl, grasping at the blanket around your shoulders. The soft surface stresses in your tight hold. You bite your lower lip in consideration, so hard you have to cut it out less you accidentally cut any skin.

The show takes a sudden pause to provide a few minutes of advertisements. Images of impossibly tempting pizza and seafood flicker on the screen, price tags proudly displayed and narrations enthusiastically going on about how ‘worth it’ the food is. Your lips tighten, and eyebrows furrow. You’re not hungry, so the images do nothing but annoy.

Still, you do anything to ensure you’re still awake for just a little while longer. A necessary factor in the decision your mind finally screamed at you to just follow through with.

Go say goodnight to Rohan, and just go to freaking bed already.

Moving carefully slow, you work on shutting down the TV and peeling yourself from the couch. You swear the process takes minutes at a time, though you don’t check the clock hanging on the wall to confirm. You’d have to squint in order to properly digest it in the dark lighting; why extend the effort?

Mentally saying goodbye to the living room with a final glance, your feet scrape the wooden flooring to move your body towards the stairs ascending to the second floor.

You’re cautious of making any noise while walking steadily closer to his study, keenly aware of your boyfriend’s need for peace and quiet.

Stopping right in front of the closed door, you take in a deep breath before knocking as lightly as you can muster. Knowing full-well he’d have heard it, you don’t wait for a response before entering.

It’s a privilege you gladly wear on your sleeve.

“Rohan…?” you gingerly call, poking your head into the room.

It’s dimly lit inside, only his desk lamp illuminating whatever it is he’s hunched over. No sunlight is present outside, yet the shades are drawn anyway.

There’s a brief pause before he turns his body around in his chair, looking at you with a raised brow. “What do you need?” he asks.

The tone of his voice is a soft reflection of a gentle atmosphere present in the air. Much more welcoming than the walk earlier. That said, there’s impatience laced in his tone- something that he never cares to hide.

You smile, thankful of his subtle movements.

Sure, he doesn’t like being interrupted by anyone. But even Koichi would be met with a harsh word or two at an interruption.

But you’re different. A familiar and welcome presence. If it weren’t getting so late, he may have offered you to look at what he’s been working on. It’s a fact that either feeds right into your ego or is too flustering to ponder further.

Maybe somewhere in between.

“I was just going to head to bed… I wanted to say goodnight and-” you rub the back of your neck sheepishly. “-I’m also wondering where I should sleep is all. You’ve got a lot of empty rooms, so I just wanted to make sure-“

“Just sleep in my bed,” he cuts you off, the tone of his voice completely serious.

“I-… your…” you hesitate, taken aback by his bluntness. Rohan is truly something else; causing you to short-circuit with five simple words. “But where will you sleep?”

God, I sound ridiculous, you think.

A chuckle escapes his lips, turning to look down at his desk once more. You hear a distant scraping noise, evidence that he’s started drawing again.

“You know we’re dating, right? I’m still going to work for a while longer. But I’ll join you in bed later.” He tells you, leaning his head back momentarily as if this conversation is a tad bit pointless to him. Still, he adds with a sigh, “But of course, if that would cause you discomfort, then feel free to take the guest bedroom across from mine.”

You shake your head slowly, even though he’s no longer looking at you. Stay in a different room? No way. His sigh tells you he finds that idea undesirable as well.

“I’ll stay with you. I wouldn’t want to be alone tonight anyways. Goodnight then… make sure you get some rest, Rohan,” you say, voice considerably gentler than before.

“Goodnight, Y/n,” he responds. “And since you’re telling me to do so… then I’ll consider it.”

You can hear the smile in his voice.

He was just so… upfront about it.

Your eyes stay widened even as you shut his office door. Standing completely still right outside his work space for a full minute before daring to peer down the hallway leading to the master bedroom.

His bedroom… the one he so casually welcomed you to join him in.

That warms your chest for the first time in hours. The smallest amount of comfort is provided just seeing him again. Remembering, oh right, he’s in the same space as you.

But the added prospect of sleeping at his side… that manages to pull your mind away from Morioh’s affliction.

How could you hope to refuse a suggestion like that?

You begin to make your way to the room, but your feet do not drag this time around.

If Rohan said it’s okay, then it really is. There’s no need to doubt yourself when he’s invited you so clearly; he’d be offended if you didn’t take his word for it.

Inside the bedroom is neat and clean.

A little bare, granted, but there is some more artwork hung up on the wall- evidentially an unsurprising consistent in his home. There’s a mirror above a large wooden dresser as well- a photo of his parents sitting on top of the mahogany surface.

The dresser itself is a little redundant, considering a walk-in closet across the room. Or maybe it’s perfectly reasonable. You hardly ever see Rohan wearing the same outfit twice.

The door itself is left thoughtlessly open, the darkness within the confined space making your stomach churn. No windows present inside, it’s the purest void in the home.

You make your way to it in just a couple quick steps, and shut it with a frown on your face.

The door’s soft click shut causes a huff to leave your nostrils, as if you’d just saved yourself from something life-threatening.

The only other notable object in the room, aside from two nightstands, is a large bed.

It’s the only thing within eye-shot not meticulously put together. Sheets and blankets left on the mattress without being remade.

The pillows on one half of the bed still indented from daily use. The sheets themselves are silk, and similarly to the pillows on the same side, the imprint of your boyfriend’s body rolling out it earlier that day is still visible.

He clearly doesn’t spend much time in his bedroom.

You still find yourself hoping the bed smells like him regardless. Silence undercut with the sounds of you discarding the clothes you’d worn that day. They stink of sweat, a reminder of how nervous you’d gotten just before dinner time.

Your sleeping clothes, luckily, hold no such memory. Comfortable and encouraging sleep; just what you needed.

And Lord, you were right about the sheets smelling like Rohan.

Laying down on the unused side of the mattress, you are overwhelmed by a lovely mix of his favorite cologne and his natural scent. You’re ashamed to have taken in a couple deep breaths the moment you make yourself comfortable.

After one of the most frightful days of your entire life, you couldn’t think of a better end to it.

Rohan clearly doesn’t cheap out on his own bed set either, much to your delight. The comforter is engulfing and enough to lull your occupied mind into shifting gears.

Now, your only lamenting over just how truly tired you feel. And the silk sheets almost make you feel envious of your boyfriend. Almost.

It would if it weren’t for the simple fact that maybe... just maybe staying over will become a regular occurrence.

Situation called for everyone to look out for one another, but the barrier has been broken regardless. And it’s a pleasant thing to ponder during the last few minutes of your day.

Staying with Rohan. In his own space. A habit lasting long after the killer is gone and dealt with.

Even in the dark, new space, you cannot help but smile. Your eyes finally flutter shut, but the groggy joy displayed doesn’t falter.

Rohan’s casual attitude over you sleeping in the same bed as him makes you believe it really might become a regular occurrence. At least… he likely wouldn’t turn you down asking to stay over for a night (Not that you’ve ever asked before).

The future of your relationship eclipses your fear just long enough to allow for genuine rest.

Already fallen asleep by the time he retreats to the bedroom after hours of non-stop work, Rohan himself slips into the room quietly a few minutes past midnight.

Observing your peaceful form sleeping in his own bed fills him with a sort of pride he only ever used to associate with his writing.

Not that he’d ever directly admit to such a thing. He’s with you after all, and that clearly depicts how he feels.

At least, that’s what he tells himself.

Because regardless… he still finds himself contemplating you while he changes his clothes.

Your understanding of just his actions and the subtle inflections in his expressions is something to be admired.

Hell, you are someone to be admired in general. Pictures of you sprinkled in his sketchbook, an eager desperation to capture what he sees on the page.

He figures he could study you for hours at a time if you let him.

Just a couple months into being official and you’ve already proven yourself to be the loyal partner he always hoped to find, however deep down that desire may had been kept.

Deep down.... he ponders, slipping into bed next to you. Turning his head in your direction, he stares shamelessly while thinking.

Rohan’s own hopes lie in learning how to properly express himself to you.

So accommodating yourself... it makes him want to commit to giving you a fulfilling relationship. It’s a feeling he’s recently gotten around to fully understanding, but one that in the shadows of a gloomy night... he silently embraces.

Just the same as him physically reaching out an arm to embrace you, just before resigning himself to a deep sleep...

When you finally wake, Rohan has already gotten up and left you to sleep in peace. Late to rest, early to rise.

What catches your immediate attention, though, is the smell of coffee brewing in the floor below you. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you don’t bother changing just yet before pulling yourself from the mattress. The wooden flooring chills the pads of your feet, but it does nothing to hinder your journey out of his bedroom.

Walking silently down the hall, that smell only hits your nostrils harder. Warm and fresh… you sigh, I can feel myself waking up already.

And if the scent of coffee doesn't do the trick, turning a corner to spot Rohan sipping out of a cup held in his hand at the dining room table certainly does.

His hair is still a bit ruffled from sleep, along with the notable absence of any color variation of headband. A robe lazily holds onto his shoulders, loosely tied around his waist to stay in place. His expression is neutral, face pointed down to the newspaper held in his other hand.

Those familiar green eyes flicker up at you when you enter. Although you tread lightly around his home, any noise around him is hardly ever missed.

“Good morning, Y/n,” he greets you gently, setting down his newspaper. It’s only when he examines you does it cross your mind that you quite literally rolled out of bed, and likely look like it too. An amused expression reaches his face as he adds, “Slept well?”

“Yes... I did,” you confirm, touching the ends of your hair. Only for it to drop a moment later; under his observation your only met with warmth. Prompting you to approach the table instead of growing anxious.

You don’t sit down, but you can more clearly examine the details of his face from your position.

“Your bed is very comfortable,” you go on with a smile. “I’m almost jealous.”

He chuckles at your last statement, his smirk shifting to a more genuine smile. Followed by a nod and hum of approval. Rohan takes a moment to take a sip from his cup of coffee, and you give him that moment patiently.

“I’m glad you think so,” he replies, “I do my best to get my eight hours, after all.”

Being someone so meticulous over environment, his response confirms your suspicion that he takes a special care in where he sleeps. Your smile grows wider.

“You think that means I just need to sleep over in order to get my full eight hours?”

Rohan lets out a scoff at that, the sound hiding a laugh at your eager question. “For me, dear. Not for you. You could sleep on the damn floor for all I care.”

“Now, Rohan-“

“But the theory is certainly worth a try,” he cuts you off, that easy smile still on his face. A mischievous gleam flickering in his eyes.

Oh.

“Then we ought to… your bed is really lovely. I’d hate to waste the opportunity,” you reply, picking up what he was putting down. Your tone turns cheeky as you add, “Plus, getting to sleep next to you… well, that’s cool too, I guess.”

“Just cool? You guess? Sleeping beside me?” he scoffs, taking a sip of his coffee. “I made extra coffee, by the way. Go grab yourself a cup; you clearly need it.”

You laugh at his words, glancing over to the coffee pot still sitting patiently on the stove. It’s tempting to go and do as he suggested right away.

Noting to do so in a moment, you turn back to Rohan and ask, “You’re going to be working most of the day today, I assume?"

“Yes,” he nods, “But I can spare some time in the morning.”

You could just faint.

Once again, you know full well there's no one else he'd be willing to spend extra time lounging about in the morning for other than you.

Sensing the joy his words send you, he tilts his head toward the counter. His eyebrows raising as if to say, ‘I’m not going to ask you again.’

A single night to adjust, and staying over at his place is everything you hoped for.

His hospitality... others may not think it, but Rohan is quite fair. He speaks to you directly, welcoming you to join him in whatever he’s doing if he isn’t burying himself in his work.

Most notably, he’ll want you to help him do any of his research. Or rather, he’d like to info dump while skimming through books in or outside the home.

It’s one of several ways he opens his mind to you.

He’ll make extra coffee for you in the morning, sure, but he’s also insistent on making you dinner- depending how sucked into working he gets.

If you take initiative and cook a meal for the both of you, he won’t let it happen again no matter how grateful he may be. You’re still his guest, after all. Better a host treats their guest (He wants to show off for you).

He’ll take you out with him during his non-work-related errands as well.

Rohan doesn’t explicitly tell you why, but it seems to make mundane tasks much easier for him to endure. He isn’t scowling the entire time if you’re there, at least.

All and all, he hopes this will become a habit as much as you do. Expressing that he likes having you there with him in his own special way.

[e-dubbc11]

for the november rain thingy I would love to request the faaabulous song by 3 doors down 'landing in london' and my fave boy billy <3

My sweet Selene, while I was listening to this song, I felt compelled to write this fic from Billy’s POV. I hope that’s ok!

Thank you my friend for sending in your asks and for being so supportive, for reading and sharing my fics and for being a great friend. ♥️

Always A Yes

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, couple of swear words, smooches

Word Count: 1.6K-ish

Summary: Told from Billy’s POV. He realizes there’s more to life than just work and doesn’t want to lose you but is he too late?

A/N: As stated above, this is based off of the song Landing in London by 3 Doors Down. I’ll link it at the end.

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

She was the first one…and only one.

The first one who understood you, who showed you any genuine affection, the one you finally let see who you really are. And she was so…accepting.

It was an instant attraction when she walked into that bookstore, shaking the plump raindrops off of her umbrella, and revealing her beautiful eyes to you from beneath the hood of her raincoat.

She was almost disappointed that she had finally reached her destination. It meant she couldn’t walk in the rain anymore which was so pure in your eyes, like a child not wanting to get out of the pool because they were having too much fun.

But you wouldn’t know anything about that. The closest you ever came to a pool as a kid was the city flushing the fire hydrants on a hot summer day but that’s what you imagined she felt like after enjoying that walk in the rain.

She caught you staring, playfully scolded you for not wearing rain boots, and the rest is history.

She never judged you for the bad things you had done. It was the first time you had told anyone other than Frankie about her or him, the first time you let anyone in, the first time you…bared your soul.

It all made sense to her now…why you always had to be in control.

Slowly, she moved her hand from her lap and held it in the air before asking you, “May I touch you, Billy? I’ll understand if you say ‘no.’”

“It’s always a ‘yes’ with you, sweet girl.” You had told her.

Her fingertips touched the side of your head, her nails tenderly scratched your scalp, and brushed the back of your neck. Those touches were what you had craved ever since you were a kid, they were loving but not in a patronizing way or in a way where she pitied you. She touched you like you deserved it and she told you so.

“You deserve to be loved, Billy.” She had said with a warm smile.

The path you had been on before she came into your life just led to pain. You had gone through life fighting so many inner demons, thinking that you didn’t deserve love, that it was just a curse, and all the pain you’ve received was warranted.

She thought differently.

That’s why you hated to be away from her but you did have a business to run which took you all over the country and even all over the world.

You always felt terrible after lashing out at her. She didn’t deserve that. All she wanted was…you. And she understood you had a job to do, it just took you away from her more often than either one of you wanted it to.

You always promised to make it up to her with whatever she wanted but again, all she wanted was you. And during those longer business trips, the thought of her waiting for you back home was the only thing that brought a smile to your face.

Frankie always called you out on your bullshit.

“You found her, Bill. Don’t fuck it up.” He scolded.

She was never afraid to push back either which was another reason you loved her so much.

“Keep pushing me away, Billy and there'll be a day where you come home and I won’t be here!” She yelled.

That’s the last thing you wanted so you couldn’t lose her. You loved her and wanted her, forever.

Normally, you were calm and in control but on the flight home from London you were nervous and extremely anxious. Your thoughts were scattered like dandelion seeds after a gust of wind. Was she still upset after this last minute trip? She said she wasn’t but she didn’t answer your text this morning which you hated and she knew you hated it when she didn’t answer. She did it to push your buttons when you were being an asshole.

She normally met you at the airport, always so happy to see you, but after you picked up your bag, you looked around and didn’t see her smiling face.

“You have a good trip, handsome?” She always asked.

It never failed. She always asked about your day, your trip, if the coffee house was busy, and always noticed when you bought a new tie. She loved you, flaws and all. She loved you.

“Shit.” You said out loud, frantically looking around for her.

Glancing at your phone, you noticed she hadn’t even read your message from this morning and it scared you to think that this could have been what pushed her away for good.

Hustling outside with your bags, you figured you’d catch an Uber and head for home. Maybe she was waiting for you there.

When you looked up from your phone, there she was, with her beautiful smile and holding a sign at her waist that read, “Mr. Russo.”

Dropping your bags at your feet, you rushed over to her and squeezed her until you heard her gasp for air.

“You’re here.” You said, trying to catch your breath.

She smiled against your chest.

“Of course I’m here, baby. How was your trip, handsome?” She asked, kissing you on the cheek.

“I don’t wanna talk about that right now. I need to tell you something.” You said.

Confused, she replied, “Oh…ok. What is it, Billy? Are you alright?”

“I won’t be if I lose you. I can’t lose you, y/n!” You said.

She saw the look in your eyes. It took you back to when you were that scared little boy, standing all alone on the steps of that fire station, wondering if she was ever coming back. And flashing forward a handful of years later in the group home, realizing that she wasn’t coming back. You never wanted to feel that way again and you finally found someone who always wanted you, good times and bad.

She grazed your beard with her thumbs as she looked into your frightened eyes and said, “Hey…hey…hey…you’re not gonna lose me, Billy. I love you.”

Reaching into your jacket pocket, you said, “I’ve been carrying this around for weeks, going over in my mind of what I wanted to say but all I could come up with is that I wanna marry you.”

Periodically, during your travels, you would reach into your pocket to make sure the black velvet box was still there. The soft fabric was comforting and after a long day of meetings or staring at a computer screen, you’d open the box, stare at the beautiful diamond ring inside and pictured her saying yes.

It scared you to even think about her saying no.

You were doing something you never thought you would do. You were making yourself vulnerable, opening up, letting someone in…in every way possible.

On one knee, not caring about if your suit pants would be ruined or not, you slowly pulled back the top to the box revealing the sparkling oval shaped diamond inside.

Although shocked, she still kept her composure and firmly said, “Then ask me, Billy.”

She smiled as tears welled up in her eyes, you knew her answer already but you did as she asked anyway. She deserved that.

“Will you marry me, sweet girl?” You asked, holding the ring in front of you and in front of a crowd of people that had gathered outside.

She kneeled down in front of you, snaked her arms around your neck, and replied, “Yes baby, I will marry you. It’s always a ‘yes’ with you, Billy.”

The people all around you clapped, whistled, and cheered as you slipped the ring onto her finger and pulled her flush to your chest. You had missed the gentle scratches on the back of your neck, her nails raking against your scalp, and when she hummed against your chest after being away from her, even if it was just for a short period of time.

Smiling against her hair, a familiar scent invaded your sense of smell. It wasn’t her normal perfume, it was your cologne which made your stomach flutter just like the first time you saw her as she came in from the rain.

“You wearing my cologne, beautiful?” You asked.

She pulled away from your chest with a sly smile on her face and replied, “It makes me feel close to you when you’re away. Is that…ok?”

She looked up at you through her long, dark lashes and bit down on her bottom lip.

Closing the gap between your bodies, you leaned in and gently pressed your lips to hers. Her lip balm tasted sweet like salted caramel, she knew that was your favorite one, and you felt her melt into your kiss.

“Always.” You said, pulling away slightly to place a soft kiss on her forehead. “I love you too.”

You don’t know how long you stayed there, on your knees in crisp early winter air. You held her in your embrace until you couldn’t feel your fingers or your toes anymore, you held her until she stopped shivering, and until everyone around you dispersed.

Old habits are hard to break. But from that moment on, you silently made a promise to her that you would try your hardest to never push her away, listen to her, and vehemently love her until you take your last breath.

Because she was the first, she was the first and only one to give you a real chance, and she was the only one to say yes…to always.

And when the night falls in around me

And I don't think I'll make it through

I'll use your light to guide the way

'Cause all I think about is you

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @idaoftheburningmind @rafaelakelley @snowkestrel @music-indie-tv @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @fictional-hooman @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @vaguekayla @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @aoi-targaryen @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @rachlovesactors @qu1etwolf @sweetserendipity65

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @ittybxttykxttytxtty @jvanilly @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @mrsbillyrusso @colereads @jediwizardelf @thejanecampaign @folkloreofyennefer @milea @mysweetlittledesire

If you’d like to be added to (or removed from) my tag list for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again

[everestgale]

Can I just say, thank you so much for writing up all of this, I really, really appreciate it!!! I like knowing what kinds of things people notice, how you interpret my designs, etc. Very fun to read and very informative!!!

I have a strong urge to ramble about some of your comments + these design in general, but I know it's going to be quite boring. So, uh, if anyone wants to see me ramble like crazy, it's under the cut lol

It makes me so, so happy that Hero's pointy "feathers" were recognizable enough as a crown/helmet! I may or may not have stolen drawn inspiration for that from Corviknight (the Pokemon)

No real notes on Stubborn, he's honestly been surprisingly easy to redesign!

Broken's little "shackle" under the shawl are actually just a mark for bright red feathers in the final design because my Broken is based on a Luzon bleeding-heart :]

Also no real notes on Cold, except for the fact that I gave him emo bangs when I first designed him months ago, and I stand by that decision.

I love my final design for Paranoid (it's the second one I've finished, after Hero!), but his silhouette has honestly been kind of a mess to draw for some reason. I really hope that, in the final design, he will be more easily recognizable. And gloves! When I realized it both nicely fits with my vision of Paranoid as a medic/healer and mirrors Nightmare, I knew I had to give them to him :] Of course I talk about Paranoid the most, who's surprised!

Skeptic's shackle in the final design is actually getting replaced with a much smaller one (I was drawing Skeptic right before I started writing this), so that hopefully it's not as on the nose!

Smitten has just been really difficult to design, for some reason. No real notes, except to briefly complain about how he keeps changing every time I work on him :[

The debris in Opportunist's feathers was a very last-minute decision, but I'm very happy with it, it mirrors Witch quite nicely, and also establishes that Oppy can hide small objects (like stolen jewelry or playing cards) in his feathers.

Hunted should hopefully be much easier to identify with his final design - I didn't draw it in his silhouette, but he's wearing the same bandages Beast does!

Fun fact: my favorite thing about designing Cheated is to see how much of his design I can draw with straight lines alone :]

No real comments on Contrarian, except for the fact that I love him and he's iconic <3

Also, I wanted to reply to the tags!!

I absolutely adore this kind of analysis! Thought to be honest, only about half of these were intentional lol

Starting from Skeptic, I actually started thinking more about their poses and which direction they face: like putting Skeptic & Smitten away from each other like you mentioned, Opportunist & Cheated facing forward (for different reasons), etc. But the first half of the voices didn't really have specific reasons for why they are facing which way.

It is very interesting how Stubborn-Broken & Cold-Paranoid pairs worked out though!

Those are, indeed, some silly birds.

I'm finally giving my voices a proper redesign! These are currently just silhouettes (for figuring out their shapes & just checking out how they look next to each other), and the full designs are still WIP, but I'm actually quite happy with how these are turning out! My favorite part was trying to connect each voice with their respective Princess design-wise in subtle (or not) ways :]

If this image is too small, I have it split into two halves under the cut! There, I also put which voice is which. If you don't mind, please let me know if you could recognize them! I'd really appreciate that kind of feedback :]

[Find my Slay the Princess art here] [Princess art] [TLQ art] [Voices art]

Image 1 (left-to-right): Hero, Stubborn, Broken, Cold, Paranoid, Skeptic

Image 2 (left-to-right): Smitten, Opportunist, Hunted, Cheated, Contrarian

Yes, my Opportunist is a tiny gremlin. I am not sorry about that :]

P.S. He's not actually abnormally short. He just looks tiny compared to the rest of my voices - Smitten next to him is 7 ft or ~213 cm tall. Opportunist is 5'2'' or ~157 cm :]

[tennessoui]

omg it’s been a while since you’ve updated, so I hope you’ve been having some of the most relaxing few days ever rather than stressful ones. and if it’s the latter, I’m so sorry about that and I hope you get the rest and relaxation you need ❤️😊💖

!!! if i'm being very honest for the past week i had a lot of homemade brownies and did a lot of puzzles while i had very bad internet connection which somehow really felt like. super relaxing and made a lot of other stress go away so.....

thank you so so much for these well-wishes they mean so much 🥺💙 looking forward to what i can give you the next few weeks 💙

[cuddlytogas]

So I accidentally almost got into an argument on Twitter, and now I'm thinking about bad historical costuming tropes. Specifically, Action Hero Leather Pants.

See, I was light-heartedly pointing out the inaccuracies of the costumes in Black Sails, and someone came out of the woodwork to defend the show. The misunderstanding was that they thought I was dismissing the show just for its costumes, which I wasn't - I was simply pointing out that it can't entirely care about material history (meaning specifically physical objects/culture) if it treats its clothes like that.

But this person was slightly offended on behalf of their show - especially, quote, "And from a fan of OFMD, no less!" Which got me thinking - it's true! I can abide a lot more historical costuming inaccuracy from Our Flag than I can Black Sails or Vikings. And I don't think it's just because one has my blorbos in it. But really, when it comes down to it...

What is the difference between this and this?

Here's the thing. Leather pants in period dramas isn't new. You've got your Vikings, Tudors, Outlander, Pirates of the Caribbean, Once Upon a Time, Will, The Musketeers, even Shakespeare in Love - they love to shove people in leather and call it a day. But where does this come from?

Obviously we have the modern connotations. Modern leather clothes developed in a few subcultures: cowboys drew on Native American clothing. (Allegedly. This is a little beyond my purview, I haven't seen any solid evidence, and it sounds like the kind of fact that people repeat a lot but is based on an assumption. I wouldn't know, though.) Leather was used in some WWI and II uniforms.

But the big boom came in the mid-C20th in motorcycle, punk/goth, and gay subcultures, all intertwined with each other and the above. Motorcyclists wear leather as practical protective gear, and it gets picked up by rock and punk artists as a symbol of counterculture, and transferred to movie designs. It gets wrapped up in gay and kink communities, with even more countercultural and taboo meanings. By the late C20th, leather has entered mainstream fashion, but it still carries those references to goths, punks, BDSM, and motorbike gangs, to James Dean, Marlon Brando, and Mick Jagger. This is whence we get our Spikes and Dave Listers in 1980s/90s media, bad boys and working-class punks.

And some of the above "historical" design choices clearly build on these meanings. William Shakespeare is dressed in a black leather doublet to evoke the swaggering bad boy artist heartthrob, probably down on his luck. So is Kit Marlowe.

But the associations get a little fuzzier after that. Hook, with his eyeliner and jewellery, sure. King Henry, yeah, I see it. It's hideously ahistorical, but sure. But what about Jamie and Will and Ragnar, in their browns and shabby, battle-ready chic? Well, here we get the other strain of Bad Period Drama Leather.

See, designers like to point to history, but it's just not true. Leather armour, especially in the western/European world, is very, very rare, and not just because it decays faster than metal. (Yes, even in ancient Greece/Rome, despite many articles claiming that as the start of the leather armour trend!) It simply wasn't used a lot, because it's frankly useless at defending the body compared to metal. Leather was used as a backing for some splint armour pieces, and for belts, sheathes, and buckles, but it simply wasn't worn like the costumes above. It's heavy, uncomfortable, and hard to repair - it's simply not practical for a garment when you have perfectly comfortable, insulating, and widely available linen, wool, and cotton!

As far as I can see, the real influence on leather in period dramas is fantasy. Fantasy media has proliferated the idea of leather armour as the lightweight choice for rangers, elves, and rogues, a natural, quiet, flexible material, less flashy or restrictive than metal. And it is cheaper for a costume department to make, and easier for an actor to wear on set. It's in Dungeons and Dragons and Lord of the Rings, King Arthur, Runescape, and World of Warcraft.

And I think this is how we get to characters like Ragnar and Vane. This idea of leather as practical gear and light armour, it's fantasy, but it has this lineage, behind which sits cowboy chaps and bomber/flight jackets. It's usually brown compared to the punk bad boy's black, less shiny, and more often piecemeal or decorated. In fact, there's a great distinction between the two Period Leather Modes within the same piece of media: Robin Hood (2006)! Compare the brooding, fascist-coded villain Guy of Gisborne with the shabby, bow-wielding, forest-dwelling Robin:

So, back to the original question: What's the difference between Charles Vane in Black Sails, and Edward Teach in Our Flag Means Death?

Simply put, it's intention. There is nothing intentional about Vane's leather in Black Sails. It's not the only leather in the show, and it only says what all shabby period leather says, relying on the same tropes as fantasy armour: he's a bad boy and a fighter in workaday leather, poor, flexible, and practical. None of these connotations are based in reality or history, and they've been done countless times before. It's boring design, neither historically accurate nor particularly creative, but much the same as all the other shabby chic fighters on our screens. He has a broad lineage in Lord of the Rings and Pirates of the Caribbean and such, but that's it.

In Our Flag, however, the lineage is much, much more intentional. Ed is a direct homage to Mad Max, the costuming in which is both practical (Max is an ex-cop and road warrior), and draws on punk and kink designs to evoke a counterculture gone mad to the point of social breakdown, exploiting the thrill of the taboo to frighten and titillate the audience.

In particular, Ed is styled after Max in the second movie, having lost his family, been badly injured, and watched the world turn into an apocalypse. He's a broken man, withdrawn, violent, and deliberately cutting himself off from others to avoid getting hurt again. The plot of Mad Max 2 is him learning to open up and help others, making himself vulnerable to more loss, but more human in the process.

This ties directly into the themes of Our Flag - it's a deliberate intertext. Ed's emotional journey is also one from isolation and pain to vulnerability, community, and love. Mad Max (intentionally and unintentionally) explores themes of masculinity, violence, and power, while Max has become simplified in the popular imagination as a stoic, badass action hero rather than the more complex character he is, struggling with loss and humanity. Similarly, Our Flag explores masculinity, both textually (Stede is trying to build a less abusive pirate culture) and metatextually (the show champions complex, banal, and tender masculinities, especially when we're used to only seeing pirates in either gritty action movies or childish comedies).

Our Flag also draws on the specific countercultures of motorcycles, rockers, and gay/BDSM culture in its design and themes. Naturally, in such a queer show, one can't help but make the connection between leather pirates and leather daddies, and the design certainly nods at this, with its vests and studs. I always think about this guy, with his flat cap so reminiscient of gay leather fashions.

More overtly, though, Blackbeard and his crew are styled as both violent gangsters and countercultural rockstars. They rove the seas like a bikie gang, free and violent, and are seen as icons, bad boys and celebrities. Other pirates revere Blackbeard and wish they could be on his crew, while civilians are awed by his reputation, desperate for juicy, gory details.

This isn't all of why I like the costuming in Our Flag Means Death (especially season 1). Stede's outfits are by no means accurate, but they're a lot more accurate than most pirate media, and they're bright and colourful, with accurate and delightful silks, lace, velvets, and brocades, and lovely, puffy skirts on his jackets. Many of the Revenge crew wear recognisable sailor's trousers, and practical but bright, varied gear that easily conveys personality and flair. There is a surprising dedication to little details, like changing Ed's trousers to fall-fronts for a historical feel, Izzy's puffy sleeves, the handmade fringe on Lucius's red jacket, or the increasing absurdity of navy uniform cuffs between Nigel and Chauncey.

A really big one is the fact that they don't shy away from historical footwear! In almost every example above, we see the period drama's obsession with putting men in skinny jeans and bucket-top boots, but not only does Stede wear his little red-heeled shoes with stockings, but most of his crew, and the ordinary people of Barbados, wear low boots or pumps, and even rough, masculine characters like Pete wear knee breeches and bright colours. It's inaccurate, but at least it's a new kind of inaccuracy, that builds much more on actual historical fashions, and eschews the shortcuts of other, grittier period dramas in favour of colour and personality.

But also. At least it fucking says something with its leather.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

waiting for marvel to take you up as their comic artist so that we can have amazing art with cherik official storyline

marvel hire me to draw professor x and magneto making out sloppy style for forty issues straight you will get a BAJILLION dollars i promise