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atlaswav · 4 months ago

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CATACLYSMIC ☾

INFO: 5252 words..... dr ratio x fem! reader SYNOPSIS: You hate him, of that you're certain. You hate the man behind the alabaster figurehead, and you want to see him unravelled, but you don't know exactly what you do to him. WARNINGS: um alcohol and one kiss. also some swearing but mostly fine AUTHOR'S NOTE: rising from the grave to bring to you this thing i found this in my drafts from who knows how long when I was obsessed with this man (still am). someone help. i can no longer write this much for one fic. what was i on.

Veritas Ratio made it no secret that he despised those who lived in ignorance. He openly shunned those who were stupid enough to turn their eyes from knowledge – they’d be beggars in due time. They didn’t know how the world was governed, and ignorant fools would play victim to fate’s cruel touch.

With this philosophy of his, you often wondered whether or not his ivory figurehead would soon burst with the tumultuous storm of the man’s self importance. You wondered what would lie underneath. Surely, the divine makers would’ve allowed balance in his creation – surely, his face was horribly disfigured in exchange for such otherworldly intelligence.

He was both delightfully astute and horrendously ill mannered at once. Brighter than your entire class combined – your entire university combined, no doubt – but his pretentiousness was overflowing, and you believed he was in dire need of being put in his place.

Arrogant and pretentious were two of the words that came to mind when someone mentioned Dr. Ratio, and you were sure you weren’t the only one who refused to worship his word like the gospel. In turn, he seemed to despise your very existence, as if you were merely a faded annotation in the footnotes of an ancient epic. Vandalising a work of art. A moustache on the Mona Lisa. Circe in the Odyssey, if she’d welcomed sailors with open arms, allowing them to degrade her as they would a common concubine, not a descendant of the gods.

Yet instead of sharing the witch’s beguiling, seductive nature, you only shared her mortal voice. Thin, reedy, quiet, compared to the booming voices of gods. The voice of Veritas Ratio. Your achievements could only pale in comparison to his, and it took everything within you to clap politely as he received his third – fourth? (you weren’t intent on keeping track) – diploma.

God you hated that man. You’d muttered as much under your breath countless times.

“Dr. Ratio is fine. No need to worship me.” he’d once corrected. But the attempt at humour was lost on you as your classmates began to laugh. The divine makers likely brought him into existence just to spite you. Oftentimes, you fought your urges to hurl the nearest textbook at his caricature head and watch the plaster crack, fall to the floor, and reveal his disfigured face.

Not that you’d seen it before – lingered around him enough to see it disappear.

His scorn held no favourites, and certainly not when it came to you. He’d openly dragged your work through the dirt a couple of times before, and it was only a matter of time before he did it again. His words were scalding, leaving burns across your thin skin and leaving your mouth tasting of ash. Your voice, faint and human, fell quiet at his ‘gospel’.

If it weren’t obvious, the hatred was mutual. He’d never admit it outright – he was far beyond these meaningless, trivial things such as immature hatred – but you felt his scathing glare in your soul, even through that perturbing headpiece, and that was enough.

“Have you found it?”

You turn around, meeting the cold, blank, unseeing gaze of his caricature head behind you. It was disconcerting to say the very least, but no one else had asked him about it, so you never pushed him further. None wanted to invoke his wrath, no matter what circumstance. It was a miracle neither of you had exploded at each other yet, but you suspected that he’d gladly put aside any type of loathing he harboured for you so that this project would get done faster.

You were happy to oblige as he took the lead. A free credit was a free credit. But you did have your limits.

“Nope. The text is ancient. I doubt this library has it.”

“Nonsense.” he clicked his tongue, glancing to the side. “I’m asking the professor. Go work on your part.”

Patience is a virtue, as you keep reminding yourself.

“Sure. Let me know if you find anything.” you say instead of the retort that sits on your tongue. False niceties and biting, underhanded remarks. This charade was entertaining, at the very least.

How did everyone love him? There had to be people like you who shared your dislike towards that conceited scholar. With a long suffering groan, you took a seat at one of the plethora of tables in the university’s library, clicked your pen and began to write.

Maybe the reason he despised you so was because of your ideas, arguably the opposite of his own way of thinking. Where his twisted logic, rearranged rationality and pulled apart natural reasoning to formulate new material, you cut and stitched the work of others together to create your own emulations. (Frankenstein's monster. Was that a cliche? For Ratio, it probably was.)

He’d likely scrap what you’d written as soon as he returned, but that didn’t stop you from trying to spite him anyway. You hoped your readings wouldn’t go to waste as you recorded your findings, then started to draft an outline for your project.

The scratch of paper became white nose, your hand struggling to keep up with the pace of your mind – was it even worth it? He’d likely call it worthless, snatch it from you and throw it into the recycling bin, then start writing his own outline. It only angered you further as you frowned at the page, wondering how he’d approach the project.

The thump of a heavy tome on the wooden desk snapped you out of your sombre thoughts.

“Here.” Ratio took a seat at the chair opposite of yours, brushing the dust off the thick text, leafing through its yellowed pages. “I told you they’d have it. You just need to search better.”

You offer him a tight smile. “Noted.” More false niceties, more flat remarks.

Then the figurehead disappears in a blink, and you nearly drop your pen. He barely pays you any mind as he runs a hand through his hair, flipping through the text. You’d heard the rumours of the handsome face beneath the statue, but you’d never have imagined him to be so disgustingly perfect.

Statuesque.

His deep violet locks looked unbelievably soft. His crimson eyes showed laser focus as he scanned the text in front of him, ignoring you completely as he noted something down. After a brief silence where you skim over your outline and he presumably attempts to decipher the undeniably unreadable and ancient text which you were opposed to reading in the first place, he turns to you with a sigh. “What did you do while I was gone?”

“I wrote an outline.” you hand the papers to him begrudgingly, fidgeting with the pen in your hand. You don’t meet his gaze, afraid that his calculating gaze might see too far into your soul.

“This?” his distaste seeps through his tone. You don’t need to look at his face to know that he’s frowning.

You say nothing as he skims through your work, twirling your pen between your fingers.

“...It’s not the worst thing I've ever read.”

Your eyebrows shoot up.

“It’s not good, either.”

You scowl at him.

“I can salvage it.” he nonchalantly throws it back onto the table, returning to the text at hand.

You want to shove his grotesquely perfect face into the book. He really was put on this earth to spite you.

“Don’t just sit there. Go look for texts on criticism of our stance.”

You don’t know how you’re going to find the patience to survive this project. If anything, it irked you further to find that there wasn’t some monstrosity hidden behind that figurehead. In everything he did, he seemed to be inventing new ways to get on your nerves. However, unbeknownst to you, Veritas Ratio held you higher than you gave yourself credit for. He believed your ideas to be invigorating. Refreshing, almost. A welcome reprieve from the same reiterated, chewed, swallowed and regurgitated approaches that your other classmates had.

You weren’t like the rest of the mindless, studying machines at the university. You could be brilliant, and it annoyed him that you didn’t know this. He’d admitted as much to himself before, but he’d never tell you. But it was still not good enough for his standards – far better than what the imbeciles in your class could’ve come up with – but still far behind him. Or so he kept telling himself.

Days passed by without a word from either of you. You were content to write your part in the solitude of your dorm, and he seemed perfectly content mulling over whatever he’d found in that indecipherable ancient text. By the time you’d nearly finished your part, he decided to meet with you once again to share your findings.

His definition of deciding to meet with you meant simply cornering you after class and asking you to follow him.

You started to protest, but he’d already turned and briskly walked out of the classroom, so you groaned and followed after him, winding up in the library again. This time, in a secluded corner with the late afternoon sun pouring through the window, illuminating the small table and workspace with a warm glow.

You wondered how he wasn’t winded after trekking across the entire campus. You certainly were. His muscled build suggested that a mere leisurely walk couldn’t possibly have tired him out. What did he eat? Was he what Nietzsche had in mind when he wrote of the Superman?

“What are you doing? Sit.” he gestures to the seat across from him, and you sink into the armchair, taking out your papers. His headpiece disappears once again, and your breath catches in your throat.

His hair cast a faint shadow across his face, and his eyes seemed to glow. As you leaned in closer, you realised there was a thin ring of gold around his pupils.

“Are you done with your part?” he demands, breaking you out of your trance.

You silently hand over your drafts, watching his eyes flit across your paper. His eyebrows furrow slightly, eyes narrowing, but he remains quiet. Were his eyelashes always this long? They created an indistinct shadow on his cheeks. His skin was pale, fair. Not the sickly kind of pale you thought he’d be. Did he exercise? You wouldn’t be surprised, with all your classmates always fawning over his broad, strong chest and narrower waist.

Was it your imagination, or were his cheeks slightly flushed? It might have been the light.

“It’s deplorable.”

Your heart sinks in your chest as you sit back against the armchair.

“Your ideas are rudimentary. Have you been reading at all?” he sighs, holding his head in his hand. “No matter. I can fix it. I don’t need you to do anything anymore. You can go.”

You stay seated in shock, unable to move. You’ve heard the anecdotes of people crying over being scolded by him, but was he always this harsh?

“You know it’s a group project, right?” you begin before your better judgement can decide against it, “My work is just as important as yours, it doesn’t matter if you think my work is ‘deplorable’. I’m in the same class, I take the same course, I learn the same things as you do, you don’t get to look down on me no matter how stupidly smart you are.”

He raises an eyebrow, unamused. “Why not?”

“Take that stick out of your ass, Veritas Ratio. Get off your high horse.” you snatch your papers out of his hands and take your leave, ignoring his calls of your name.

Were you dramatic? Yes, but not without reason. Given Ratio’s reputation for prioritising academics over everything else, you suspected that it wouldn’t take long for him to find you, either.

You were so wrong.

More days passed with no contact. He didn’t seem to be affected by your dramatics, and never once batted an eye in your direction unless necessary. It seemed your hypothesis of him inventing new ways to get on your nerves was on the track of being proved correct. But if you didn’t do something within the next few days, you trusted him to turn in the project without your name on the paper, resulting in a zero.

He was just as stubborn as you, and though you were nothing compared to him in actuality, you were so close to grabbing his face and forcing him to look at you for who you were.

Seemingly, even in the battle of wits, he seemed to emerge victorious.

“Ratio.”

He barely glances up, engrossed in his writing. “What?”

“Are you done with the project?” Biting the bullet stings your teeth and left a bitter taste on your tongue.

“No. Not yet. Why? You’re finally going to help?”

“Are you going to stop looking down at me?”

The library is nearly empty. The sun is barely a sliver on the horizon, and the voices of students float down the corridor beyond the grand stacks of books, yet you’re here. Why do you bother? Are you really that desperate for his validation?

“Are you going to keep writing such reprehensible work?”

You glare at him. “Guess not.” you turn on your heel.

“You’re absolutely infuriating.” he sighs, leaning back in the armchair. “You’re not aware of what you can do, are you?”

You glare at him. Your chest stings.

He looks at you, then. Truly. His complexion relaxes, and he rubs his temples. “Sit. Let’s go through your part.”

“Why?”

“I mulled it over. Your part is brilliant.”

Your eyes widen.

“But your expression and research is appalling. Have you learned how to write academically at all?”

You’d never simultaneously wanted to slap and kiss a man at once until today. “What happened to getting off your high horse?”

“I got off it. Now sit and listen, I won’t repeat myself.”

You supposed that was the closest to an apology he’d ever give you, so you sat. It pained you, but you did. Besides, he had called you brilliant – your part – but still, you couldn’t force the smile from your face as you listened to his instruction.

“Your ideas in your introduction are well formed, but from there, it all goes downhill. You have to reorder your logic for it to make sense, and we will be deducted points if you don’t elaborate on the principles of your concept first.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “So how would you do it?”

“For one, I’d restart completely and get straight to the point.”

You sigh exasperatedly. “Show me, then, if you’re so good.”

His eyes narrow at you, but he says nothing as he motions for you to come closer.

The librarian was likely too scared to kick either of you out after closing time. Your arguments were heard by all of your neighbouring desks, and whenever there was a break in conversation, it seemed as if everyone held their breath. There was pin drop silence except for the two of you – but neither of you realised it.

He was blunt, and had no idea what you were thinking, but perhaps this is what entrapped him.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t stop thinking about how he had called your ideas brilliant.

You quickly learn how good of a teacher he is. Maybe it’s his forced patience or once-in-a-millenium genuine praise that spurs your decision, but you find yourself so willing to prove yourself, and he finds himself willing to help.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad.

“Just fix it, stop arguing with me. I’m right.”

“Why? Do you know every single thing about our topic?”

“No, but I have four degrees and more experience than you.”

“Jackass.”

“Change it.”

You grumbled another insult under your breath, yawning as you scribbled out the section you wrote and began to reword your thoughts. The sudden quietude was jarring, and as you looked around, you realised the overhead lights were off, the only source of light from the lamps illuminating the desks.

“Is everyone gone?” you ask, sitting up straight and stretching.

“Who cares? Finish up, then we can head back.”

“Fuck you, give me a break. I don’t write at the pace of a robot.”

“Then learn.”

“Fuck you too Veritas Ratio.”

“Expand your vocabulary while you’re at it.”

“Why are you so intent on irritating me?”

“You get irritated easily. Not my problem.”

“If you know I get irritated easily, why do you keep provoking me then? Do you want me to hate you more?”

He seems to pause. Minisculely, almost unnoticeable had your gaze not been trained on him for the past few hours. He had a habit of pausing and furrowing his brows when you said something slightly out of line.

“Just finish the paper. You talk too much.”

You sigh and get back to work as he leafs through his own research.

Amicable silence passes. The night is alive outside, gleaming and glistening with the touch of benevolent gods and whispers of long gone wishes – pearls stitched by fate’s knowing hands.

“I’m done.”

“Show me.”

You pass the paper to him as you watch his expression carefully.

Crimson eyes flit across your work, gold ringed irises flickering in the scarce light. If you could capture the way the light reflected in his eyes in a jar, you think wishfully that you’d stare at it forever; Until the light died out, or it decided to escape the ephemeral glass confines.

But you’d never admit it out loud. It was wishful. If Veritas Ratio could read minds, he would undoubtedly reprimand you.

He clears his throat, and you snap to attention, swatting away your fantasies of stealing and bottling evasive light.

“It’s good.”

You wait for him to speak further, but he says nothing. “Just good?”

“Well, by my standards, no, but for you, it’s good.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean,” he leans on the table, forearms flexing. “That you’re finally starting to live up to your potential.”

“Huh?”

He blinks. “What do you mean?”

“What potential?”

He shakes his head absently, almost in disbelief. Forget light, you’d barter with the lady of fate to let you preserve this moment in a frame so that you could glimpse this expression forever. You’d never seen him so dumbfounded and awed at once – you doubt anyone ever has. He’d always been a man of knowing, and whatever he didn’t know, he would find out. Nothing was ever a “maybe,” or a “probably,” it was always absolute. It had to be absolute in his philosophy.

You happened to be the one exception.

“You’re not aware of the potential you have?”

“You think I have potential?”

“Aeons,” he murmurs under his breath, before standing and gathering his belongings. “I’m going to bed. See you in class tomorrow. We’ll finish up then.”

He leaves before you have the chance to question him, but as you slump back in your armchair, you can’t help but smile.

Potential was as close as you’d ever get to a compliment from Veritas.

—

The lady of fortune and lady Themis looked him in the eyes and saw their mortal emanator at his birth. He’d never been certain what he was made for, but he never let it burden him. Things like these weren’t made for him to ponder, that was up to the dreamers and inventors.

He was a being of logic. A doctor of calculations and reason, and everyone knew him as such.

But he simply couldn’t figure out what it was about you – your naive gaze or that pout that absently curved your lips – that had your words and scent and eyes lingering in his mind like a vengeful phantom.

You were the being of all chaos and irrationality, but you were so bright. Unhoned, rough and unhewn. A gemstone shining with impurities but shining still, casting a beautiful mosaic cast across the ground with indecipherable shapes and patterns.

It was deplorable. He hated you for being on his mind, and hated you even more for your wasted potential. He hated how you stared, how his cheeks would redden from the intensity of your gaze, and how he’d have to pretend he was unfazed, because he couldn’t afford any distractions.

You were the being of his undoing, he was sure. You were brought into existence to spite him, to bring an unaccounted variable into the equation of his being, and present a causality dilemma for all he was.

He wanted you gone, but he wanted you closer all at once.

He hated it.

It wasn’t common for him to sleep in either, so when he woke five minutes before class was supposed to start, he cursed you with all the spite in his heart and rushed to class, clutching papers from the night before, still imbued with traces of your lingering fragrance. Just how long had you pored over those papers for your smell to latch to them? It should be impossible. Fate was clearly against him.

Fate brought you back together as he entered the brimming lecture hall, and the only vacant seat was the one next to you.

“Did you get the papers in order?” you asked, glancing at his dishevelled state. The Dr Ratio you knew was never dishevelled, but this was the closest you’d ever seen him to it.

“Yes. Just write your name on your bits and sign the sign off sheet and it’s complete.”

You take the paper from him, scrawling your name across your work, then handing it back.

With your project finally submitted, you could breathe easy again – never endure his biting remarks and criticism again.

But as the class progressed, you realised you were in trouble.

The professor was merciless. He flicked through the presentation on the new topic with haste, rushing through new concepts, formulae and calculations with record speeds. You’d nudged Ratio, whispering for help, but he rolled his eyes and kept his stare attentively on the presentation.

You wanted to slap him.

Was he tolerating you because of the project? Was he going back to cold stares and dismissive glances?

You wouldn’t allow it. Not when you were so close to discovering the man behind the alabaster figurehead. As soon as the professor signalled the end of the lecture, a collective sigh was released from the class.

You turned to Ratio, and he was already staring at you.

“What was it you wanted to say?”

“Tutor me please.”

He raised a brow. “Why?”

“Because you’re smart.”

“Pick someone else, then. I don’t see why I should.”

“You asshole, I’ll buy you lunch if you tutor me.”

He frowns at you as he begins to leave. You trail after him. “Please?”

He sighs deeply. Like a man burdened with the weight of his own world on his shoulders. Byron’s brooding, romantic hero, in his melodramatic glory. “Fine. Stop annoying me.”

You smile. “Thanks. Meet you at your dorm after dinner?”

He sighs again. “ Don’t be late or I'll lock the door and go to bed.”

He watched the seconds tick by in agonising motion – a man awaiting his sentence, but also his reprieve. Is this what his classmates felt before they took tests? It certainly seemed like it. Relief was on the horizon, and yet great suffering was imminent. He’d never known the feeling until now.

But as they say, the harder the rain, the sweeter the sun, and he wasn’t about to relinquish his quest to decipher you.

It seemed mutual as he paced in front of his front door, having eaten dinner at the cafeteria early to mentally prepare himself.

When your knock finally sounded at his door, he sighed, checked his watch, then reluctantly opened the door.

You were a picture to behold.

Hair slightly damp from a shower, drowning in loose, oversized clothing. It was all painfully domestic to see you walk through his doorway, scanning his living space. In the back of his mind, he thought it felt right, but he shook his head.

You were messing with him again.

Two could play that game.

“Take a seat.” He pulled out a stool from his kitchen island. “Want a drink?”

“What, like alcohol?” you huffed.

“Are you an alcoholic?”

“Only if you want me to be.” you shrug, setting down your notes on the bench.

He sighs exasperatedly, already berating himself for agreeing to this. He never agreed to tutor anyone. Why were you the exception? You shouldn’t be.

His hypothesis: you were trying to get something out of him. A way to cheat the class, his academic favour, something hedonistic, even. It seemed plausible enough, but you listened intently as he explained the concepts the professor spoke of in the lecture, asking questions and actively engaging with his explanation.

It didn’t seem like there was any ulterior motive. So why was he letting you break his rules and defy his nature?

“God, why didn't the prof explain it during that lesson? Everyone struggled.”

“You’re not smart enough to understand his concise methods, then.” he huffed.

“You’re too smart.”

“You’re not smart enough.”

“Smart ass,”

“Get back to work. You did that question wrong, by the way.”

You groaned. “Where?”

He was so caught up in your quarrels that he didn’t notice the time grinding away at the pestle. It was nearly midnight when you’d finally caught up with that day’s classwork, and he sighed in relief.

“You understand?”

“Yes. You don’t have to worry now.”

“I won’t. Now get out.”

“No drink?” you frowned, pretending to sulk at his expense. He simply stared at you, getting up from his stool and walking to the fridge.

Remarkably, he pulled out two beers.

“Don’t speak. If you do, I'll regret allowing you over again.”

A smile befell your lips. “I’m not saying anything.”

“I don’t like the look on your face.”

“Wipe it off then.”

A frown. His new hypothesis: you were trying to seduce him for better grades, more tutoring sessions, or for his own downfall.

“Drink and leave.”

“If you say so.” you take the chilled bottle and drink. He watches your throat move, and he thinks of himself as pathetic as he drinks as well, wincing at the bitterness.

“Do you live by yourself?” you ask, head propped onto your hand.

“I do.”

“Are you lonely or something?”

“No, people are irritating.” Like you.

“What a ray of sunshine you are.” You’re not much better.

“I don’t have to put up with any idiocy.”

“If you say so.”

Quiet passes as beer fizzes in the bottles, golden liquid sloshing at the sides of the glass.

One thing you learn that night is that Veritas Ratio, the famed multiple time valedictorian of your university, is an extreme lightweight. His cheeks become red quicker than you can finish your bottle, and he starts to grumble nonsense under his breath.

“You’re really smart, you know?” he suddenly says after mumbling something about quantum physics.

“What was that?”

“You’re really smart. Really smart. Impressive.”

“Really?”

“Yes, you idiot, how many times do I have to repeat myself?” he leans on the bench, not entirely aware of his surroundings as he does so. He squints at the ground.

He’s a cute drunk, you realise begrudgingly.

“Thanks, Veritas. You’re smart too.”

“I know.” he drinks from his bottle again, swirling the dregs. “But I can’t figure you out.”

“Hm?”

“Why are you acting like this?”

“Like what?”

“Do you hate me?”

You hesitate for a moment. “Yes.”

“Then why are you like this?”

Your eyebrows raise.

“You’re making me irrational. I can’t figure it out.”

“...Sorry?”

“You should be. You know, I was nearly late to class today because of you. You kept me awake.”

“Really?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking. Thoughts. And things.”

You laugh at his predicament, draining your beer and gathering your things. Trying to leave before he said anything that could turn the encounter south.

“Wait. Don’t go.” he slams his palm onto your notes, determination in his eyes.

“I need to go to bed.” you say as if scolding a child.

“I need to figure you out. You’re still an enigma to me. The anomaly of my behaviour. Is this your intention?”

“What are you talking about? You’re drunk.”

“I can think. I can move. I can see fine. I’m not drunk. Answer me.”

“Maybe I'm just so mesmerising to you.” you joke, but his brows furrowed in thought.

“Maybe.” he retracts his hand from your notes, and you stow them away into your bag, slinging it onto your shoulder before he can do anything else.

As you’re halfway to the door, he pushes you against the wall.

You never realised how tall he was until then. How much of a height difference you had, or how muscular he was. He had to have worked out on a daily basis. The pungent smell of alcohol lingered on his breath, and his cheeks were tainted with deep red as he searched your gaze.

You decide he’s officially lost his mind, but who were you to complain?

“Are you mesmerising?” he whispers, eyes trailing down your face, examining and analysing, his hand tracing down your body with those slender scholar’s hands.

“You tell me.”

Then he grabs your face and mashes your lips together. The kiss is rough, biting and rushed. You freeze for a sliver of a second before returning it, letting him decide your allure with his own devices.

He pulls away almost too fast, lips kiss bitten, breath fast.

“You’re a siren.”

“Am I?”

“You’re going to ruin me.”

“What a weak man you are, if it only takes one woman to ruin you.”

“I hate you.”

“Really?”

“I hate it because I’d probably let you.”

“Are you a masochist?”

“Not in my right mind. I’ll wake up and regret everything, but it’ll all be the same, fundamentally.”

“So what’s your conclusion?”

He still has you pushed against the wall, caged within himself. “You were put into this world to bring about my destruction.”

“How? Why?”

“You’re my opposite. Brash, naive, carefree.”

“Are you normally this analytical of people?”

“No, which supports my point.”

“I see. So you’re going to let me ruin your image?”

“No. I hate you for it.”

“Let me go then.”

He wordlessly steps away, and you stumble to the door.

“So what are we?” you ask, turned away from him. You can’t see the way he drinks in your visage like a starving man, and the small, sober part of him is grateful for it.

“Polar opposites.”

“I mean who am I to you?”

He’s silent for a while, so you turn back to him to find him leaning on the wall, gazing into space.

“Veritas?”

“You’re my undoing. A catalyst, maybe, for my downfall. But there must be balance, right? So what are you?”

“What am I?”

“I don’t know.”

You knew then that he was beyond reason. Was this what you did to him? You took some sadistic pride in seeing a man such as himself reduced to a mumbling, questioning, incoherent mess. You were somewhat pleased with the effect you had on him., but you could never let him know this.

He crumpled to the floor, back to the wall, clutching his head in his hands. “I’ll figure you out.”

“Sure you will. Goodnight, Veritas.”

“Night.”

Your smile was brighter than the morning as you left his apartment, embracing the night’s welcoming chill.

written by @atlaswav , published 15th of July 2024

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katerinathesaint · 4 months ago

Text

stanford!subby!art x f!reader blurb? (probably too long to be a blurb)

warnings: smut, comfort, aftercare!!, slight dumbification?, handjob😁, pet names (sweet boy, baby), slight au bc art and reader live a nice apartment together and it has a spare bedroom that patrick uses sometimes, sub and dom themes, art being sad (the usual), arts foot catching strays, bad writing.

synopsis: arts having a rough day and just wants to relax:((, which you gladly help him with.

a/n: guys this is so rushed i know it’s bad please don’t yell at me or ill cum and cry at the same time please spare me there’s a reason i don’t right long blurbs or fics😖😖😖

Art should’ve just stayed in bed that day. It started off blissfully; he woke up, his arms wrapped around your waist and his nose nuzzled into your neck whilst you slept peacefully. His favorite place to be.

From there, it just all went down hill. When he got out of bed to head to the large bathroom you shared, he stubbed his toe on the doorframe, immediately letting out a quiet grunt of pain and a nearly silent ‘fuck’ and ‘god dammit’.

A little later, after his morning shower and such, he tried making breakfast; tried. His hand reached for the pan he was going to use to cook some eggs for breakfast; some protein before a long day of practice sounded good.

Except, the handle slipped from his fingertips and the pan immediately fell onto his foot, then slammed onto the hardwood floor. He leaned against the kitchen counter for stability, as he cradled his now injured (a small bruise formed later) foot.

Art had prayed that the loud ‘BANG’ didn’t wake you. Sometimes, you were a deep sleeper, other times you weren’t. Luckily, it didn’t seem to have waken you; not enough for you to walk in, at least.

Arts day went on that way for the next 10 hours. Once he made it to the courts, after almost being hit twice while driving there, his coach immediately made him warm up.

The practice that day was grueling, Art wanting to do nothing except to pass out in your arms. It was obvious his coach had a stick up his ass and decided to run all the players of their energy, including Art. Not that he had much energy to begin with.

Finally, after a long ass day of shitty luck, Art made it back to your shared apartment. Patrick’s car wasn’t there, meaning he was probably at some girls place for the night; shocker. He prayed you were still awake. Considering the time, you should be, but every now and again he’d come home to you napping peacefully.

Art walked in, the bag on his shoulder immediately dropping to the ground by the door. He walked a little further, his spirits lifting when he sees you wide awake, watching some tv show.

You turn your head when you hear the shuffling, lighting up at the sight of your boyfriend, and your facing curling in worry after clocking the dejected look on his face.

Art plopped down on the couch, his body slotting in between your legs as he snakes his arms around your waist, letting out a sigh.

You knew Art needed you. You could just feel it. You carded your fingers through his curls softly; the tenseness leaving his body slowly.

“What’s the matter, sweet boy?”

Art lifted his head, locking his gaze onto yours. You could see the exhaustion in them. Poor baby.

“Jus’ need you,” He slurred.

Figures. Too dumb to do anything. He needs you to do it for him.

“Tell me what you need, baby. Use your words.” You encouraged.

Arts brows immediately scrunched together, as he slowly shook his head, “I don’t know, I jus’ need you s’bad.”

Usually, you would push for more, knowing he can use his words. But you couldn’t help but pity him.

“C’mon, up.” You sit up from your spot, Art reluctantly lifting up as well. You drag him by his hand to the bedroom, leaving him standing by the bed as you lay back against the pillows and headboard. Art awaited your instruction.

You speak a quiet ‘c’mere’, Art immediately understanding your minimal language. Art layed himself against you between your legs, your chest against his back. You helped Art tug his shirt off, your hands quickly finding themselves running up and down his toned chest, your lips leaving soft kisses and nips at his neck.

He tilted his neck to side to give you more, letting out soft whimpers at the feeling. He bucked his hips, the boner in his shorts now extremely obvious. You nipped at his ear, the bucking becoming more frequent as he tried to gain some type of friction. Your fingers met the waistband of his shorts, lifting it before letting it snap back against his skin.

“Take them off,” You purred into his ear, his hands quick to move his shorts and boxers off. You remove your shirt that you had been wearing, no bra underneath. Your perky nipples met his back when he leaned against you again, his throat bobbing as he let out a soft moan.

His pretty dick, hard and leaking, was in need of attention, that much was obvious. “What do you say, Artie?”

“Please, please,” The boy was nearly in tears, his body squirming under you as your hand got closer to his throbbing cock. “Please, i’ve been so good, i’ll be good, just- please.”

How could you ever deny him after that? Your cold hand grasped his cock at the base, slowly sliding it up until it reached the tip, where you squeezed a little, just for the already leaking tip to leak a little more. Art threw his head back against your shoulder, letting out a loud moan.

You spread the pre over his tip, his moans getting louder. The noises he let out were just so pretty, you could listen to them 24 hours straight if you wanted.

Your hand found a quick rhythm, languidly sliding up and down his pretty cock, as you whispered sweet praises into his ear and soft kisses to his neck.

“You’re doin’ so good f’me, baby.”

Art was getting closer to his release the harder and faster you stroked, his grunts and moans getting louder. You knew for fact your panties were soaked under your shorts.

You could feel Arts body tensing up, his cock throbbing in your hand, “It’s okay, baby. Let go f’me. Let go.”

That’s all he needed to hear from you before letting out a pornographic moan, his back arching as his cum shot out onto your hand and his stomach. It went on for a few more seconds; Art always had big loads.

As he came down from his high, you peppered sweet kisses along his neck and up his jaw, before moving his body to the side.

His hand snatched your wrist as you lifted yourself from the bed, “Please, don’t go. Please,” He begged.

“Just gonna clean you up, baby.” You pressed a soft kiss to his head before grabbing a clean washcloth and running it under warm water. You brought it back, cleaning up Art and your hand before throwing it in the hamper.

Art didn’t care to get dressed after any type of intimacy, as he claimed it would break said intimacy. You slipped your shorts off and changed into a clean pair of panties, as your other ones were soaked.

You climbed into bed, dragging Art under the covers with you.

“Feel any better?” You asked.

Art simply looked at you and smiled before pressing a long kiss to your lips.

“I feel perfect.”

Good. That was your goal. You and Art feel asleep peacefully, cuddled up into each other’s arms. Thank god you helped him relax.

#art donaldson #art donaldson smut #mike faist #sub art donaldson #katerinathesaint

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swxxtsxcchxrine · 1 year ago

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I feel like i need more emphasis on Miguel's level of nasty because he is just messy. point blank period. imagine he's got you on all fours, your face is stuffed into the sheets of your shared bed, he has your arse in the air all the while his face is stuffed right in your pussy. he's sucking and slurping on your cunt from the back because he knows you like it. maybe too much. one hand is laying comfortably on your bum cheek while the other holds your hands in place on the small of your back to diminish any attempts you have to run away. not that you would anyways. his face moves up and down your slick slit, his tongue prodding at your tight hole. he groans in satisfaction as you push your hips into his face and cry out a silly version of his name. his hand squeezes your cheek in affirmation "that's it, bonita," he praises. his words go straight to your sticky cunny as he slurps loud enough for the neighbours and their mothers to hear. he lifted his head momentarily just to spit on your puckered hole: watching as the fat glob slides down the globe of your arse, not before catching it with a finger and sliding it in. he feels you tight hole squeeze as he stares in awe. he lowers his head back onto your throbbing clit and starts suckling on it, drinking up your sweet juices in tandem. he shakes his head from side to side receiving a high pitched sob from you in return. he brings down his heavy hand to slap your soft bum, hard. he rubs the sore spot as his finger continues to work on your ass. he's moaning and groaning, whining and whimpering into your cunt that he loves too much. "Miguel...you have to stop, i need a break PLEASE!" you plead no avail. infact, he pushes another finger into your tight hole. you silently plead he's not hoping to stuff his hefty cock into your puckered hole. it's already too overwhelming for you. he's still playing with your hot pussy while still at it with your rim. he removes his fingers from your asshole and watches it clench and unclench uncontrollably as your orgasm hits like a truck. he lewdly spreads your cheeks apart, mouth agape, watching your tight holes squeeze around empty air, waiting so patiently to be filled by his pretty, long, thick, heavy, pleasurable, delicious, tasty, mouth watering, eye rolling, name yelling, soul snatching, creaming and screaming, sobbing and rolling around the floor, toe curling, earth shattering, squirting fountains, mood lifting, dopamine giving, life changing, powerful thrust, pretty, dark brown tipped - remember nips match tips - veiny all over, a proper 8-9 inches, he's definitely a grower, he grows while he's inside of you so its the most delicious stretch everr, undeniably good, leg shaking, heart wrenching, name forgetting, drooling, mind dumbing, mind breaking, back arching COCK.

i'll glad be on my knees for THIS man. 🥴like im not even joking brooo ill do jumping jacks on the d just for him he can dump ALL the cum he wants in ME, i'll gladly be the mother of his children. i swear, ill be the perfect little wife for him. he wakes up in the morning to freshly made breakfast and coffee. his clothes are washed, dried and ironed to perfection. his shoes are clean and polished, his shower is already running at the perfect temp. he comes home from work? i'll great him with a fat kiss and a home cooked meal. the recliner is out the tv is on his favourite show, when he's getting ready for bed, its ready made, his clothes for tommorrow are out and im waiting for him in bed. i need him so bad he doesn't understand i'm so upset why isn't he real. like...who am i ever going to find thats gonna compare? will i ever find someone that compares, omg imagine if i don't...☠️☠️☠️☠️ see lemme not God forbid🙏🏾

🫨 (ignore that i just wanted to use the emoji ibr)

#smut #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x black reader #miguel x black reader smut #spidervere smut #spiderman smut

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br4tphobia · 1 year ago

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# — 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 !

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ! : 1.6k wordzz, connie x black fem ! reader, shorttt, proof read? nah. reader is wearing a sundress obvi, petnames (princess, ma/mama, baby ) you/your pronouns useddd 𝐍𝐒𝟒𝐖 + unprotected sex (condoms yall condoms!!), con talks you through yo orgassmmm, smut with not much plot obvi, fingering (f received) boob suckinn, choking, cowgirl, tummy bulgeeee, car sex, missionary, and dirty talk as always!!

𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 ! : oh did i tell yall this from experience? yhh 🥴 (NO THAT NIGGA DID NOT NUT IN ME.) @digitalreblogs here bby!!

a sigh fell from your lips, you miss him already and its only been an hour. you cant be this hooked onto this boy! right now, youre on the phone with your friend, liv. telling her everything that happened last night when he came over. until you get another notification from him, immediately making you smile.

“girl why is he tellin me to get readyyy!” you laughed at reading out the message connie sent you to liv. “girll get ready right neow!!”

“i sho am, hello??” you prop up your phone as liv watches your scavenge through your drawers and closet, you was becoming upset about having nothing to wear until you found this sundress, it was simple and cute, you could style it with anything. but you only threw a simple jean jacket ontop with your favorite fair of fuzzy slippers.

“oo shit girl you look cutee!”

“furreal? bc if im lookin bummy and you let me leave like this imma beat yo ass.” you’d pout, liv laughed. “puhleasee girl y’know i would nevaa”

“yeayeaaa..”

you stared at him coming closer on maps, which made your stomach sink deeper. “boo im kinda scared” — ��why?? all that nasty shit yall did last night, you wasnt scared then?”

“girl. thats the point!” hearing another laugh from liv, “im sure youll be fineee.” — “girl i hop—“ the sound of your doorbell rung throughout the house, you swear your heart dropped to your ass. “what happened???” her eyebrows pinched together in confusion, “hes here girl.. ill call you back!” — “oh! ok have funnnn”

you both shared your goodbyes as you rush to the door, not hesitating to open it. “hey princess” a small smile was on his face, “hi con” he went in for a hug, your gladly took that offer, his cologne clouding your nostrils. he smelt good (like always.)

connie led you to his car, opening the door for you.

once he got in his eyes are immediately on you. the way the dress hugged your body perfectly, displaying every curve and dip. it wasnt long before he pulled over by a curbside.

you notice connie eyeing your beautiful physique again before unbuttoning his pants. “c’mere.” his voice was deep, seeing his semi-hard sitting in his boxers, which made you not hesitate to climb onto his lap, immediately having his lips touch yours. your tongue running over his as you both roam your hands on eachother. you feel his hands pull your dress up to your waist as he started playing with your clothed clit. humming out in pleasure. trailing down your neck with kisses, all you could do is grind on his lap waiting for the main thing you wanted. he knew it too although he wanted to make you wait.

“c-con..” his fingers playing through your folds making you choke on your words. “you can wait.” inserting his middle and ring into your slicked sex, earning a moan out of you. already going to work inside your walls, with his thumb reaching up to rub your clit. you reach your hand down to his now-hard dick, stroking him a few times, hearing connie let out a groan. his fingers still pumping and scissoring inside of you so good youre damn near riding his hand. letting out honey sweet moans in his ear, muffling them in the crook of his neck. you curse at his sly fingers bringing you closer to the edge with every flick of his wrists. “g’na cum already? youre getting wetter princess..” you felt embarrassed, how he could turn you into

“y—yes oh my god..” bucking your hips against his fingers eagerly for your orgasm inching closer to you, “cmon..give it to me, pretty.” his voice caressing your ears, hearing his cute sounds as you jerk him off slowly. “like that! shitt” your head flew back with a string a moans from your throat.

“a little more..fuckk” youre pulsing on his fingers, feeling your release coming. “make a mess, mama.” connies voice triggering your orgasm, gripping on his shoulders as he talks you through it. whispering sweet nothings in your ear while kissing on your neck. “fuck..con..” broken whines passing your lips, coming down from your high. “there you go..” his thumb still rubbing your pretty pearl, your cum stained thighs shaking from overstimulation.

“ready mama?” you didnt know what he was talking about until your felt his tip slide through your wet folds. a small gasp left your lips as you immediately hum a response. “words, princess.” — “mm…yes” you can feel him smile against your neck as he inserts his tip, holding a grip on your hips to help you sink down on his 7 inches, you both sharing a moan.

sitting there for a while to adjust to his size, his hands slid to your ass guiding you. “ouu shit..” your back arched, your breasts so close to his face. he just cant help but tug the upper part of your dress down and take a nipple in his mouth, suckling on it like there was no tomorrow. adding more sensations throughout your body, bouncing on his dick with his hand slapping your ass — he wishes he could see the ripples display like water waving.

“fuck...” your arms sat around his neck, head lowered right by his ear so he could hear all your sweet sounds he loves oh so much. the way your tongue carries the vowels of his name will never be attractive to him.

he started to thrust up into you a bit, his tip kissing your cervix sweetly as you already feel your second orgasm approaching. “shit g’na cum again ..” another pornographic sound leaving your mouth, along with your nipple leaving his.

“my godd..” you slow down, basically grinding on him to ride out your second high. “shit.. mama.” he’d groan with his head burried in the crook of your neck, feeling his breath fanning. he pulled away and pecked your lips before you started riding again, overstimulation clouding your mind, but it feels so good you cant stop.

“yo shit so creamy ma.. fuckk” groanin back into your neck as you continue your pleasing motions. you know hes about to cum by the way hes panting and getting louder. “cmon make cum princess..y’know how to fuck me..” moans and groans are sharing together throughout the car.

it wasnt long until you felt his cut spurting inside your walls drawn out with a groan. humming at the soothing feeling, cock warming him for a while before he slapped your ass. “get in the back.” a smile crept on your face as you pulled his dick out of you, seeing a thick ring around his shaft. a few droplets of his seed dripping onto the arm rest while climbing into the back seat before laying down. connie, who is trailing behind you.

“whatchu smilin fo’?” — “oh n—nothing..” he slid his tip inside you, causing you to choke on your words once again. a small laugh erupting from his chest.

his hips met the back of your thighs with your legs on his shoulders, “ouu shit..” gripping on his bicep with his strokes deep and slow, already hitting your g-spot deliciously. “you like that? when i fuck you deep like this?” your eyes rolling at his voice, “yes! yess fuck..” he leans down and touches his lips with yours, immediately swirling tongues around eachother, moaning in his mouth as you feel his thumb on your clit.

“oh shittt” muffled into his mouth, he pulled away and started speeding up his thrusting. aiming for the roof of your pussy, seeing a tummy bulge appear. your moans turning into a silent scream as you grip on anything in reach. connie only watches in awe on how he could please you so good.

only thing heard is the squelching of your pussy, along with small gasps and moans. he knew he was fucking you good and loved it, seeing every facial expression on your face. your brain feels like mush, your mind only on him and his dick. “mmm dont stop..! cumming again!” that signaled him to go deeper, with his hand slithering around your throat, holding a small grip.

“baby..baby! ohh my goddd.” — “i know, i know.” slowing down his thrusts, rolling his hips into yours with passion. “y’so wet mama..” followed with a small moan from him. you swear youre seeing stars, slurirng your inaudible words. “wanna gimmie one more? i know you can princess.” you hum out another response just you have your face grabbed, “words” — “y—yes.. i can.” your voice cracking as you focus on your pleasure. sticky lips parting to let out the sweetest sounds hes thriving on. running your hands over his skin layered with thin sweat ontop.

“fuckfuckfuck..” cursing at the rhythm of his pace, you can feel it near, its so far yet so close. “dont stop dont stop dont fuckin’ stop..” you both maintain eye contact, his are low — heart eyes would appear if they could. “you so pretty ma..” a another smile, showing off your pretty whites with your mouth forming into an ‘O’ soon from the spots hes hitting. “mmmfuhhck!” your wrap your arms around his neck, staring into his pretty hazel eyes.

“m’close baby..” — “yea? cmon princess, im there with you.” he switches both of your legs on his right shoulder, hitting the perfect spot you never knew existed. the wet sounds of your pussy growing louder by the second along with your whines. “hold out f’me.” — “i gotchu, mama.” cursing under his breath as he removes your arms and holds your hands. “a little more m’soso close..” your whole body feels like jelly, every stroke is like small sparks of electricity that pushes a moan out of you every time.

“shitshitshitt m’cumming..cum wimmie please..” pulsing around his dick, with the ring around his shaft thicker. he gave you a few more thrusts before sinking into you, you knew he was cumming the way you both shared moans together.

he kissed you, before he pulled out. “sorry. you look good s’all.” panting as you look at him with disbelief, only to see a goofy ass smile on his face.

#connie x black y/n #aot connie x black reader #connie smut #connie springer x black reader #connie springer smut #connie springer x black!reader #connie springer x reader #snk connie #connie x black!reader #connie x black reader #connie x y/n #connie x you #connie aot #aot connie #connie x reader smut #aot smut #x black fem reader

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pbnbucks · 5 months ago

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can you write something about meeting Caitlin because ur family are family friends and you two develop a relationship?

Caitlin x Reader!

What Happens In Bora Bora Stays In Bora Bora

word count : 1574

warnings : cussing, friends to enemy’s to lovers, somewhat leads to smut, jealousy

summary : your dad and caitlin’s dad worked together and made lots of money so when they had a scheduled buisness trip and decided to bring the whole family down you and caitlin where put to room together.

i made this at 6am so if it sucks my apologies!

your sitting in your cabana in Bora Bora waiting to be told the rooms suituation only to be hit with total disappointed “I just got off the phone with Brent and we decided you and caitlin will be staying in a cabana together while we are in Bora Bora” your family was close with the clark family because for generations they worked together in the family industry. you where close with Brent and Anne, along with their sons except their daughter caitlin. she often picked arguments with you and she didn’t bother hiding her hatred for you. nobody knew exactly why she hated you, your guy’s parents always thought it was because you where the same age (16) and similar in many ways and equally stubborn. although caitlin wasn’t always like this, when you first met when you where 4 and she was a sweet heart up until you guys where 14, thats when it all changed and compliments changed to snarky comments. something in her changed the way she viewed you she went from idolizing you and protecting you to being disgusting by you and filled with hatred towards you. but by the end of the trip it would all change because by the end of 3 weeks shared in a cabana in bora bora together something was bound to happen.

“do i seriously have to share a room with her i mean she hates me and i don’t want to deal with her the entire time” you say trying to convince your dad to make any change in the vacation arrangements. “actually it was her idea she wanted to share a room with you, wouldn’t let anybody else get the spot” great. her goal was to make the vacation terrible for me. “please dad im begging you its a trap her entire goal is to ruin my vacation” he just rolled his eyes at you “they will be here any minute so better hurry up and choose your side of the room.” you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. as soon as he walks out you hear her voice making small talk with your father, she has always kisses up to the adults and the second they turned a blind eye she completely changed. she of course walks in with a attitude already and waits for you to tell her the room arrangement “so i picked the left side of the room so that leaves you the right and i’ll probably go explore in about 30 minutes once im unpacked.” she walks past you making sure the shove against you, not hard but hard enough for you to notice. “look if you just forced yourself into being my roommate just to make my life hell ill gladly go find somebody to room with instead” hopefully trying to get her to quit whatever act she had going on but instead she just laughs at you “your not scary so just sit down princess, and i think i will join you on your little scavenger hunt” shes unbelievable.

TIME SKIP.

its now been 3 days that where full of hiding from caitlin making sure to be out by the time she was awake and come back when she was asleep. shes caught up to what you where doing but to entitled with her ego to question it so instead she drops subtle hints to inform you that she knows what your doing and to cut it out. but you genuinely have no want to argue with her. a good this is you met this girl Maddie on you trip, you brought her by your cabana once but it was extremely awkward with caitlin there, all of a sudden she became extremely possessive with you and even putting her arm around you saying that you where her best friend. you thought that maybe she just didn’t have friends back home and it would make sense with the way she acted.

you where brushing your hair getting ready to meet up with Maddie but instead caitlin walks in on you in the bathroom, “where are you going?” is she being serious? she treated you like shit for the past 3 days and all of a sudden wants to know where your going. “im going to go swimming with Maddie ill be back around 10.” she immediately shuts down you idea and tells you otherwise “no your not im tired of having to wait and stay up at night cause you want to go out with some girl all day and night.” “dude caitlin what the fuck are you even talking about right now, maybe act like a normal person on vacation and go make some friends clearly your lacking some.” she scoffs at your true, but mean comment. “im not lacking any friends nor do i need any, and you one to talk about friends in supposed to be your best friend and yet your blowing me off to hang out with some random girl” best friend? she wishes. “what are you talking about best friend? we are far from friends because you cant get your head out of your own ass. now if you will get out my way so i can hangout with my friend and enjoy my vacation away from you” you shove out the way not giving her the chance to even disagree with you and walk out the door only to greet maddie’s face as she is already there waiting for you, before she can even greet you, you drag her by the arm and run down the long hallway to the water. “im sorry caitlin was giving me a tough time and she was close to coming out and breaking the door down” she laughs thinking you where joking but only if she knew what you had to put up with. “i think she might be in love with you.” you cant believe the words that just came out of her mouth. “whats with everybody and trying to ruin my day.”

ANOTHER TIME SKIP

its now 10pm and you said your goodbyes to your friend as you parted ways only to be greeted with a locked door, you knock on the door begging caitlin to let you in turning the door knob hoping that she will listen but nothing works, your last hope is to say something you know would piss her off and give you a long night but you just deeply wanted to go to bed. “caitlin seriously let me in before i have to room with Maddie.” once you finish your sentence you immediately hear foot steps coming you way to have your door swing open greeting a angry cait, you push past her “seriously you locked me out? why cant you not be a asshole for one day” she rolls her eyes at you “me, im the asshole now? and stop bringing up Maddie i couldn’t give to fucks about your friend.” unbelievable “well clearly you did cause you let me in as soon as i mentioned rooming with her, and you know what i am going to room with her because thankfully she wouldn’t kick me out my own room.” as soon as you said that her face got red and she pressed you up against the door pushing you bodies close together and her forehead resting on yours “your. not. leaving. this. room. got it?” you didn’t know if it was the butterflies in your stomach or her hands gripping at your waste and her mouth and body extremely close to yours but you craved her touch and you wanted more and the only way you know how to get more was by pissing her off. “or what? you cant control me caitlin especially not with the way you act” there was only one thing you wanted to hear from her and it was for her to beg for you. after all these years of constant arguements someone who claims they hate you, ends up needing you so badly. “cmon cait i want to hear you beg for me to stay.” she hesitates hoping you would give up “ you can be serious, im not going to beg.” you just smile at her words “im serious and if you wont beg im rooming with Maddie.” she groans at your words “fine.” theres a long silence for her mentally trying to prepare herself for what shes about to say “please y/n, don’t go room with her.” there was those words you wanted to hear so badly although it wasn’t enough. something in you just clicked “aww is that really what you want baby?” her eyes widen staying their for a second before deciding her next move, no going back now. her lips attack yours and her hand that was on your hip now find your neck making you moan into the kiss, it was the shock you have because this is the first time in a while that she has shown affection for you. she pulls away to gather her breathe but before she pulls you in for more you stop her “y’know i think i have more control over you then you let me know” she gives you her little smirk shes known for “oh yeah? why don’t you show me princess? you up for a challenge?” maybe this was your chance of getting your relationship back, you couldn’t miss your opportunity “of course.”

#caitlin clark #i love caitlin clark #caitlin clark fluff #caitlin clark fanfic #caitlin x reader #caitlin clark smut #fanfic #my fic #wlw post #wlw blog #wlw #wlw ns/fw #wlw smut #lesbian #lgbtq

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storiesfromafan · 2 years ago

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Confessions of the Heart

A/N: it's taken me a few days, but here is part 2 to Antisocial Bookworm. I am so grateful for all the note's it and my other Mattheo story has gotten =^^= I hope this is on the level of the 1st part haha.

I will also be fixing up this story and my other one, once I can get to my boyfriends laptop.

Mattheo x Fem!Reader

Summary: set after the Slytherin party. Mattheo finally confesses to you how he feels..

Confessions of the Heart

Time could be a funny thing, or it could be cruel. In the passing weeks since the Slytherin house party it was unkind to Mattheo. Those fleeting moments with you gave him a taste of something that he was now craving. He wanted more time with you, more moments that would suffice the part of him that craved your look, your presence. In the time since the party he hadn't gotten a chance to be close to you. Sure there had been classes and meal times, but never as close as he'd like.

Lounging by a tree in the courtyard, with a book in hand, Mattheo had taken some time in the afternoon for himself. He quite liked being on his own for a while. It gave him time to sort through his thoughts, or pass the time with a book. Books; a new habit he had taken too after the Slytherin party. Books reminded him of you. And he wanted to feel closer to you. So here he was, in a place you would frequent with a book. Part of him hoping, no wanting, you to cross paths.

You on the other hand had taken to doing your best to be invisible after the party. Though for the first week to two weeks that had been hard to do. The suck and blow game, and your kiss, with Mattheo was all the students were gossiping about. And with one piece of gossip, there were rumours that followed. Some were mild, while others were wild and greatly untrue. But it didn't take long for the rumours to be all gone, no doubt from Pansy and Mattheo.

If Pansy had heard anyone gossiping about you, she would shoot them down with her sharp words and fierce gaze. Maybe even bringing to light some rumors of the offenders own. Mattheo, as you knew, had gone up to anyone that spoke ill of you. He would have been calm and advised them to forget the rumors, but if they protested or he found out they had not stopped, he would end it with his fists. Which led to more detentions, as well as bruises and cuts to his face and knuckles. Including the prominent cut across the bridge of his nose he was currently sporting. But he would gladly wear any bruises and cuts, like badges, if it was to defend your honour.

You had obviously been avoiding Pansy, Mattheo and those from the party. Only dealing with them if necessary. In the classes you had with Pansy, the girl had taken to sitting with you if possible. And chatting to you about the class work, her friends, gossip, etc. You were polite and let her do as she wished. You didn't mind her company. And she had taken the time to seek you out and include you. Maybe Pansy was growing on you. Mattheo was an entirely other thing. Yes there were classes you shared with the curly brunet, but you kept to one side of the room, and he the other. There were times your gazes would meet, and hold for a few moments, before you'd look away. He had been nice to you, but did that mean he wanted to be friends? Surely it was a mistake, you told yourself.

Like you would have any afternoon, you were headed to the courtyard with a good book. But upon walking out of the castle doors, behind some other students, you spotted a familiar figure in your spot. Taking advantage that Mattheo hadn't seen you, you retreated back into the castle. What was he doing in your spot? Surprisingly alone, and with a book in hand? Has the world gone mad? With your favourite spot being commandeered, you headed for the library. Sure there were students coming and going there, but it was a cosy place to read. After all, the place was full of books.

Time had passed and dinner in the Great Hall was getting closer. Most students had packed up and left the library. The only few remaining were the serious studiers, and yourself. Marking the page of your book you thought it best to start getting ready for dinner. With your bag packed you left your little corner in the library and walked into a large foyer that had a beautiful mermaid fountain, which most students conjugated around at various times of the day. Upon passing the fountain you were greeted by Pansy and another Slytherin girl you hadn't really talked to. Pansy parted with her friend before focusing on you.

"Y/N/N! Feels like I haven't seen you all day" she said smiling fondly at you.

You gave her a small smile. "You saw me this morning in Potion's class".

You both fell into step with each other, heading for your common room. Pansy talked mostly during your walk, you gave some input at times. It felt more comfortable when you talked to the dark haired female at your side. You didn't feel as uncomfortable, or unsure with every interaction you both have.

"So I am going into Hogsmeade on Saturday to do a bit of supply shopping. Do you want to join me?" Pansy asked, smiling at you, hopeful you'd say yes.

You were unsure if it was wise. But you wouldn't mind a trip to Hogsmeade, you yourself were in need of a few things. Like a new book or two. "Sure Pansy, I wouldn't mind going to Hogsmeade with you".

Pansy had been surprised you had willingly agreed to join her, but nonetheless excited. Upon reaching your destination, you both agreed on the finer details for Saturday's trip into Hogsmeade before parting ways. You went to your dorm, dropping your bag by your bed before falling backwards onto the soft mattress with a deep sigh. Usually, at a time like this, you would have either school work or books on your mind. But of course you had one particular Slytherin male on your mind.

At the same time as you, Mattheo had made it back to his own dorm. Sitting at his desk he lightly tossed the book he had been reading on the surface before him. He had spent his afternoon in the courtyard with the hope of crossing paths with you, but it never happened. He felt deflated, for he had gotten his hopes up. Maybe you weren't interested in him like he was you. But if you weren't, why would he find you looking at him across a room?

Pulling at the curls upon his head, Mattheo let out a frustrated groan. Any other girl would have been putty in his hands by now. But you weren't like the other girls. And he liked that. Yet part of him wishes it wasn't this hard. He wished you had shown up today in the courtyard, taking a spot under the same tree as him, preferably close to him. At first there would have been silence, but eventually he would have started a conversation with you. The topic might have been the current book you would have been reading. From there the conversation would have, hopefully, flowed nicely. And before heading back into the castle he would have worked up the courage to ask you to The Three Broomsticks on Saturday, not a date but hopefully something like one.

~~~

Saturday came around in no time. That morning you had gotten up and got ready for the day. Your roommates were also going to Hogsmeade, so the room was buzzing with plans. Dressing in jeans, a light turtleneck jumper and ankle boots, with your hair put up in a messy bun and bangs brushed down. One of your roommates commented on your outfit, suggesting some lip gloss. She received a slap to her arm from another girl in the room, which confused you. But part of you thought it might have been a comment on your kiss with Mattheo. The girls in your room at first after the party, had given you looks while whispering. But it stopped soon after, making you think Pansy had gotten to them. Since then they have been nice.

Heading to the Great Hall for breakfast, you walked alone enjoying the peace. Everyone from your year that you passed were discussing Hogsmeade and their plans. Upon reaching the Great Hall, Pansy was talking with Draco and Blaise by the giant doors. Seeing you, she called you over to the three. Reluctantly you walked over to them.

"Morning Y/N/N!" Pansy greeted me with a bright smile.

"Morning" you replied to her and the boys with her.

"Y/L/N" Draco nodded his head to you. "We'll talk to you later Pansy". With that Draco and Blaise took their leave, and headed to the Slytherin table.

Pansy invited you to join her and a few of her friends for breakfast, which you decided to accept. Usually at breakfast you'd sit alone and read, be it school work or one of your books. Pansy and her friends talked every moment you all sat at the Slytherin table. Just down from them sat Draco and Blaise, Mattheo nowhere in sight.

Mattheo had slept in, waking to find his room empty. Upon seeing the time he got up quickly and rushed to get ready, he didn't want to miss breakfast. Once dressed he grabbed his jacket and headed for The Great Hall. Just about every female student he passed gave him the goo-goo eyes and flirty smile. No doubt half, or all, had been hoping he'd ask them to Hogsmeade. If he had to ask any girl in the school, there was only one choice. You; his antisocial bookworm.

Reaching the Great Hall, Mattheo smiled seeing there was still a decent amount of time to have breakfast. With a spring in his step, the thought of what he would eat this morning running through his mind, he failed to notice you sitting with Pansy and her friends. He took a seat next to Draco, clapping the blonde on the back. Blaise poured Mattheo some juice, while he started to put food on the plate before him.

“Cutting it close” commented Draco stirring his tea.

“Yeah, tell me about it” Mattheo said with a sigh. “Thought I’d have been woken up”.

Blaise smirked. “You looked very comfy, with a silly grin on your face. Wonder what you had been dreaming about”.

Mattheo choked on the juice he had just sipped, then coughed. “Bullshit”.

Draco laughed. “He’s telling the truth. So who were you dreaming about, huh? Maybe the recluse, antisocial bookworm”. Draco looked down the table from where they sat, gesturing to the person he had just mentioned.

Mattheo’s gaze followed where Draco’s was, and there you sat. So close, but still to far away. He watched how Pansy and her friends were talking, all the while you looked bored, probably wishing you had a book right then. A small, goofy smile formed on his lips, that didn’t go unnoticed by Draco and Blaise. The pair had been watching their friend closely since you were mentioned. They weren’t stupid. They could see a change in Mattheo since the party. And they figured the time on his own was an attempt to get close to you. Though he never got a chance alone with you.

Feeling like you were being watched you looked around, only to find those familiar deep brown eyes on you. When Mattheo finally made it to the table escaped you, and you had been somewhat aware of your surroundings. A small smile formed on his lips as you stared at him, knowing he had your attention. When had the dynamic shift between you? You had always been solitary, choosing to be separate from everyone else. Books replacing friendships & love interests, for it was easier than reality. But here you were, sitting with Pansy and her friends, have the attention of the Slytherin heart throb. The world must have fallen off its axes, & gone crazy.

"Ready to go?" Pansy's sudden question ripping your focus from Mattheo.

Looking at the girl next to you, you blinked a few times processing what was going on. "Ah…yeah" you said breathlessly.

Pansy and you got up from your seats, Pansy saying a farewell to her friends, before the both of you headed back to your dorms to get your coats for the walk to Hogsmeade. All the whole time you moved from your seat till you left the Great Hall, you could feel his eyes on you.

Mattheo was cursing Pansy for taking you away from him. That eye connection was the most interaction with you he'd had in a day. He wanted it to last forever, or till he could get to you and talk to you. But it was lost now. And so he took to sulking.

"Cheer up" Draco said, clapping Mattheo on the back. "You'll have another chance at talking with Y/L/N. Her and Pansy will be in Hogsmeade. I've already invited Pansy to The Three Broomsticks, so she'll be with her".

Hearing those words cheered Mattheo up. He'd have another chance, and get to have a butterbeer with you. Not to mention the walk back to Hogwarts. Getting up with Draco and Blaise, all three boys put on their coats and decided to start making their way to Hogsmeade.

~~~

The walk to Hogsmeade with Pansy had been pleasant. Of course the dark haired girl had talked for most of the walk, but you learnt more about Pansy and who she is as a person. And you even engaged more in conversation with her, which surprised Pansy but also made her happy. The first place you were dragged was a small clothing store. Pansy was looking for new gloves and socks. After that you were dragged to a store to get some potion supplies, which suited you well as you needed a few items yourself. Pansy had made some jokes from different items, which you found entertaining and laughed at. The banter between you two was flowing nicely, not forced.

You briefly stopped for something to eat before continuing on shopping. You even got to pop into the small bookshop owned by a lovely lady named Doris. She was a sweet lady, who got muggle books in and would give you first pick. There was a good selection of stock that came in, but you decided to buy Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, and Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. You were feeling the need for something different, something with sadness, passion and romance. Though the two books were different, both would please your needs. Once finished their Pansy suggested having a butterbeer, and you agreed.

Reaching The Three Broomsticks you both entered with a smile, removing your coats Pansy headed in further before you. Then you heard Pansy’s name being called by a familiar voice. Walking to Pansy’s side you were greeted with the sight of Draco and Blaise. You felt a sigh of relief leave your lips that it was just the two Slytherin’s. But a small part felt disappointed not seeing the deep brown eyes of Mattheo. It was best he wasn't there. He was probably on a date with some girl, more fitted to be his main girl then you.

Both you and Pansy took a seat at the table that was closest to the fireplace. Pansy filled both boys in on your day. And in turn they had spoken a bit about their own. Your focus went from those at the table with you to the other students in the establishment. It was a buzz with chatter and laughter. There were a few couples that were quite cosy together, and one couple that looked to be on a first date. The group at the back were laughing and cheering over something you couldn't hear, but it was infectious nonetheless. Emerging from the group was a mop of brunet curls before seeing a warm smile on his face as he dusted off his sleeves. Another male clapped him on the back.

Mattheo had been pulled in by a group of students, a heated discussion on the current Quidditch season so far this year. He had tried to get away from there for the last ten minutes, and finally making his break, upon looking up he was greeted by the sight of you sitting at the table he’d left Draco and Blaise at. Oh how you looked cute right now. Pulling himself together, Mattheo headed over to the bar and ordered three butterbeers before heading to his friends with the drinks in hand.

"About time you got back" commented Draco as Mattheo put the butterbeers on the table, and slid one to Pansy, who thanked him.

"Yeah, once they get started it's hard to escape" retorted Mattheo, sliding over a butterbeer while looking you in the eyes.

"Thank you" you said softly, taking the offered drink, to which Mattheo gave you a wink.

Oh how that wink affected you. Your heart fluttered and your stomach turned. You had seen him wink before; to friends or other girls. But to be on the receiving end of it, it was going to do you in. Then those dark thoughts crossed your mind, telling you that you weren't worthy of him. That he deserves someone better, a female lead that was beautiful and smart. Looking at the butterbeer in your hands, you only half listened to the conversation going on at the table. Focusing more on your negative thoughts.

Mattheo couldn't help but look at you, watch you after giving you the butterbeer. He was sitting across from you, you were finally close to him again. He wondered what was going on in your mind. What were you thinking about, maybe him. He hoped it was him. A small silly smile formed on his lips at the thought of you thinking of him. Slowly you looked up, both your gazes meeting. He'd almost forgotten how clear your Y/E/C eyes were, all the while you could drown in his deep brown eyes. This could be like a moment from your books. The way he looked at you, paired with the cosy atmosphere of The Three Broomsticks. How you both didn't notice anyone else around you when you looked at each other. Something flashed in his eyes, you noticed. But you were unsure what it was. Mattheo on the other hand; the longer he stared into your eyes the more he knew that his crush was growing. He knew he liked you, and had to tell you in hopes you feel the same.

“Have you had a good trip to Hogsmeade?” Mattheo asked, finally saying something to you.

You nodded your head, “yes I have...Pansy and I went shopping”.

He smiled a lopsided grin. “That’s good. Did you buy anything?”

Again you nodded. “Yes I got some ingredients for potions, very boring. And a few books” you replied with a smile, thinking of your new friends that lay in a bag by your feet.

“Oh? What books?” Mattheo asked, genuinely interested, which surprised you.

With a small look of shock on your face, you brought the bag up and took out the books. “I got Wuthering Heights, and Jane Eyre. Both Muggle books, but I find them fascinating...”

Mattheo took both books, looked them over & had a quick read of the blurb on the back. If he hadn’t known you were one for romance or love, these books gave a small indication you were. Though there was love, there was distance and longing, as well as revenge and anger, mixed with some tragedy.

“They’re silly, I know...” you said softly, as you put the books away. “But I find them interesting”.

“It’s not silly. You are allowed to like what you do” Mattheo said, smiling warmly at you when you looked his way. “I have begun to get into books myself, even a few Muggle ones” he stated, whispering about the Muggle books. Knowing Draco and Blaise would not let him live it down if they heard him.

That surprised you. You hadn’t taken him for a fan of Muggle literature. Or really one for reading. Mattheo was the bad boy. A list of girls that he had snogged or done more, as long as one of Snape’s lectures. Of course you’d seen him read but that was school books or magical world literature. The few times you’ve seen Mattheo in the library was occasionally to study, or rather getting answers to class homework, but mostly when he was finding a quiet corner to snog a girl.

Before your conversation could continue, Pansy said it was time to go. But before going back to Hogwarts, she suggested a trip to the Shrieking Shack. The boys said they’d come with, saying you girls would need protection. Which Pansy scoffed at. The walk to the abandoned house didn’t take long; Pansy, Draco and Blaise up front, while you and Mattheo walked behind them in silence.

By the time you made it to the Shrieking Shack the sun was starting to set. The boys stopped a fair distance from the building, while you and Pansy moved closer. Seeing the boys had stopped you both turned around and looked back at them.

“Seriously? I thought you were here to protect us?” Pansy asked in a baby voice. That made you giggle.

“We-we are” said Draco, clearing his voice. “Happy to wait here and if anything happens we’ll come to your aid”.

Mattheo laughed at his friend. Clapping both boys on the backs, he stepped forward. “I’ll join you ladies, happy to protect you” he winked at you.

“Our hero” Pansy said with a smug smile before looking back at Draco.

The three of you walked closer to the building, stopped at the fence of the property. Pansy and Mattheo talked about the building, the history and the rumours of the shack. You looked around, observing the abandoned building. You tried to picture what it might have looked like, if a family had lived there or was it a single person. Then you started to think of how it would be described in a book. One could describe it as a deserted, forsaken or unoccupied run down building that was boarded up in an attempt to conceal its insides from the world or to keep the outside world out. The wind rustled through the building causing the most haunting sound to hit one's ears.

While you seemed distracted Pansy moved closer to Mattheo and whispered, “if you are planning to make any kind of move you better do it soon”.

Mattheo’s eyes widened, nearly popping out of his head. “W-what!?”

Pansy slapped his arm, “keep your voice down”. She glanced at you and saw you were still oblivious. “I know you like her. And she is nice, sweet and shy...so don’t break her heart, or else I’ll break your nose”.

“I-I” he spluttered. Not sure what to say, but he decided he couldn’t hide it from the girl before him. “Okay...I like Y/N. Do you think she likes me?” He sounded like a scared child.

Pansy offered a small smile. “I believe she does, but she’s different. She’s not like the usual girls you ‘date’ Theo” Pansy said with air quotes.

“Oh I know she’s different” he said looking at you, a loving smile upon his face.

Pansy giggled, “then go for it!”

Mattheo looked back to Pansy and nodded his head. He had to confess to you that he likes you. Talking to Pansy seemed to give him a confidence boost. He felt he could just about take on the world. He just hoped you wouldn’t reject him. Pushing down the fear of rejection, Mattheo collected his thoughts and was ready to do this. Pansy had suggested along the walk back to the castle that he pulled you aside and you both talked. And he agreed. They had a plan.

“Lets head back before it gets too late” Mattheo’s words brought you back to reality. Pansy agreed with him.

Meeting back up with Draco and Blaise, the lot of you started the trek back to the castle. Once again you and Mattheo brought up the rear. It was quiet between you but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The light in the sky was almost gone as you came to the turn off on the main path that would take you into the Dark Forest. Pansy gave Mattheo a look before suggesting you stay with Mattheo, and watched the last of the sunset and the first stars.

Draco and Blaise started to protest but Pansy put an end to it, before the three took off and left you two on your own. Now on your own, you stood there unsure what to do. Alone with Mattheo. You had been doing your best to avoid him, and within a day you were back to a close proximity with him. And it was nice. You took a few steps along the path, closer to school, Mattheo not far behind you.

“Looks like a clear night sky” Mattheo commented looking up at the slowly darkening sky, and a few stars littering the heavens.

You stopped and looked back at Mattheo, before looking up to where he was looking. “Yes, I think so...”

Mattheo watched you talk, taking you in as you looked to the sky above. He noted how the almost faded light outlined your face, and highlighted your H/C locks. He gulped. You were stunning right now, you looked like an unearthly creature. When you turned, and your eyes met for the third time today. He was so close, closer then he had been. When did he get close? With one step Mattheo’s body would be just touching you. You felt your breath hitch at the thought, and your stomach butterflies fluttered at the thought of him touching you.

“You look lovely today...” Mattheo said, wishing to kick himself. “Not that you don’t any other day!” His nerves were starting to rise.

You looked at him with wide eyes. “Ah...t-thank you?” you asked breathlessly, unsure what else to say.

Silence settled in after that, leaving you both unsure and uncomfortable. Deciding enough was enough, you told Mattheo you were going to head back to the castle and started to walk on. Seeing his chance starting to slip, Mattheo quickly moved and grabbed your wrist with his hand.

“Wait!” he exclaimed in a panic. “Y/N, please wait. I-I need to talk to you”.

You turned to look at Mattheo, confusion on your face. “W-what is it Mattheo...?”

Oh his name leaving your lips, hearing your voice speak his name. It was music to his ears. “I need to confess”.

“Confess?” you questioned in confusion.

Releasing your wrist Mattheo stood up straight, taking a deep breath. Now or never. “Y/N...I want you to know that you are different, different good! Not different bad. I like that you keep to yourself, that you read books whenever you can. I like that you don’t listen to all the bullshit students talk, and choose to live in your own world”.

You looked at Mattheo in a slight panic, you had an idea where this was going and you were undeserving of him and his affections. “Mattheo, stop please! This isn’t right, I’m not right...for you”.

With those words you turned and started to head back to Hogwarts at a faster pace. Mattheo, stunned for a moment, was quick to go after you, calling your name. You continued to keep walking, ignoring his cries. Then you felt your arm being grabbed and Mattheo pulling you to a stop and looking at him, though you didn’t meet his eyes.

“Doubt thou the stars are fire;

Doubt that the sun doth move;

Doubt truth be a liar;

But never Doubt I love” Mattheo recited from memory.

‘Hamlet by William Shakespeare’ you told yourself.

“My bounty is as boundless as the sea,

My love as deep. The more I give to thee,

The more I have, for both are infinite”

‘Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare’.

“In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you” Mattheo said, bringing his hand up to cup your face.

‘Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austin’ you thought as his hand touched your skin.

Realising that Mattheo’s hand was holding your cheek, along with great literature confession’s of the heart. Your mind was at a loss. What was happening? Has the world finally lost it? Or were you dreaming? The later more possible. But your mind could never come up with how good it felt to have his skin touching yours. Mattheo searched your eyes, trying to gauge what you were thinking or feeling.

“And finally, my own confession; I like you Y/N. I like everything about you, my antisocial bookworm. Or should I say my main girl”.

You felt your face warm up. You were right, he was confessing to you. He had recited words from books that you had read, which means at some point Mattheo had read them. Another surprise that he would have taken the time to do so. And then to give you his own, Mattheo Riddle, confession. Which was the best out of all of them.

“Are you sure?” You asked unsure.

He blinked before laughing. “Am I sure? Yes I am! I know I like you, I adore you. But do you like me?”

You gulped. “I-I...I do like you” you finally spat out.

The smile that crossed Mattheo's face was bright, it met his eyes and they twinkled with the starlight. He decided it was now or never. Mattheo stepped closer, leaning down closer to your face. This was it, you knew he was going to kiss you, and you welcomed it. As his lips lightly touched yours, soft and warm he noted, you both felt a small spark. Drawing back he looked at you, seeing if you disliked the kiss or did not want him. But there was joy, happiness.

Not wasting time Mattheo went in for another kiss. This time pressing his lips firmer to your own. That spark was there again, but stronger. He felt your hands come up to rest on his chest, he feared you would push him away. But your hands gripped at his coat. Taking that as a sign to continue Mattheo brushed his tongue along your bottom lip, and you gingerly opened your mouth. Mattheo then deepened the kiss, taking your breath away and sending your mind into overload. Slowing down the kiss, Mattheo pulled away, resting his forehead against yours and looking into your eyes.

“I take this as you will go out with me? Or should we just skip to boyfriend and girlfriend?” He asked with a cheeky smile.

You went red again in the face, something Mattheo was loving. He decided he would do anything to get that reaction from you, it was just too cute.

“What do you want...?” You asked him softly.

“Be my girlfriend Y/N/N” he answered with a cocky smile.

So you agreed. Making Mattheo the happiest he has ever been. And with that you headed back to the castle, first holding hands before Mattheo moved to wrap his arm around you, making you blush yet again. And though you were embarrassed, you were the happiest you could be. Maybe you weren’t a background character after all. You were the main girl, who got the main boy.

A/N: Constructive feedback welcome. Hopefully you have enjoyed this story. Also, like to thank my boyfriend for reading my story before I post them, and putting up with my fangirl ways lol.

#mattheo riddle x fem!reader #mattheo x you #mattheo x reader #mattheo x y/n

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nadianova · 2 months ago

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how much $ did u get from sales from malmaid & other VNs on itch/steam? i wanna upload my VNs on itch/steam but 1. idk how much i wanna price it (like... yeah its free but for the pwyw slot for itch) & 2. (for steam) idk if the 100$ steam price for Uploading is worth it/if ppl will like/buy it (am insecure/nervy #girl :'3) .. i luvv ur work n i love seeing ur works it Makes me v happy thank you!!!!

disclaimer everything here is my opinion and perspective from me in this current moment of my life so just take everything with a grain of salt and preferably look for others perspectives to compare to. ultimately its something everyone kinda have to figure out on their own and do what works for them..

but that being said theresa lot of things to say here so ill just start with like... every dev i see says that if you're gonna sell your game put it on steam. i keep hearing numbers throw around like 90% of sells come from steam and 10% from itch io for devs that sell (commercial projects) on both. you still need following etc to promote the wishlists since that is what boosts your game after the initial release on steam or something like that?

if you have a free game put it on itch io. its free just do it might as well. being shy and insecure about what you make is fine but keep in mind that people arent after some perfect flawless projects and making those is impossible

just make what you can and share it, the right people just need to find them

still itchio is nice that its free but the userbase is also 50% people on their mobile searching for strictly free android games to jerk off or horror game with red background because popular streamer #453425 played it. the site culture is different from steamw which some people treat as if games don't count as real unless they're on steam.

from my perspective paying $100 to put a game on steam is 'cheap'. even if you just consider it an ad fee for however much traffic steam algorithm blesses you with, its kind of a good deal if you think about the unhinged amounts you'd have to pay on twitter or facebook or whatever the hell people use to actually promote the game to same amount of eyes.. if you're doing free games its less of a incentive but if you're trying to do business and make money for rent 100(and whatever fees steam and taxes will eat from your earnings) is a very low price of doing business. i see people complain about steam cuts and steam fees but as someone who used to be an online sexworker there was literally popular sites AND STILL ARE that take like 50% cut directly so steam isn't bad when compared to that (also steam gives you the 100 back after you make 1000, which i reasonable believe i could reach if i put a paid game on steam)

also did you know you can set itch ios marketplace cut to 0% if you want with no repercussions. you can do that if you want. do it.

i think if you have rent to pay you should get into the habit of asking for something. artists love supporting other artists and outside of that the people who have money will gladly support someone whose work they like. there's really no concrete numbers to give for pricing projects. just ask anything. tho know that asking for 1 dollar is pretty much the same as asking for like 5 tho. if people are ready to pay they generally don't care if its in that range so i think everyone's happy if its 5 when payment processors get to swipe a smaller percentage of the fees from the transaction

maybe something like just ask for something nad once you make more projects keep rising it. its better to have an empty patreon with 0 subscribers than no patreon at all. my games used to be 0€ to download and 6.66€ pay what you want and people kept paying that. then i raised the suggestion to 15€ just to try it out and i was surprised to see the amount of donations didn't go down. bonus artbooks are a good incentive. its nice to share something special for those who want to donate and its nice for them to get something out of it since a huge portion of these people might have just given that same donation money expecting nothin in return

its taken a few months but malmaid has now made like 800 dollars on itch io which is like wow holy shit but it kinda stops being as exciting when i think about how it took me 6 months to make it and that would be like one month of rent. still ultimately the fact that its a free game and everyone just decided to donate anyway is kinda absurd and it makes me infinitely grateful

i do know that if i had priced it with a set price the amount would be a lot more (this is even more evident from my 4€ comic projects that i keep putting on sale constantly for even cheaper are still by far the most earning projects I've ever put on itchio) id argue people are more likely to take a project seriously and engage with it if it cost money. free games you can just dl and forget about it if you want.. but having a price next to the download button makes things seem more legitimate because money has worth

i also get pay-per-project patreon money. tho patreon hates that mode and will be deleting in like a year or so instead of having stupid monthly payments. idk what ill do then i might delete patreon at that point will see

but on the matter of if these numbers really are a useful metric to share is debatable. hopeless junction made like $1000(ignoring the vncup 2 award) since i released it year ago and this and malmaid are two of my most popular games like that. i think i made 300-400 during the first few release months back then. I've been posting stuff on itch io for FREE for a decade soon and its an accumulation of all my visibility from over the years. itch io also favorites nsfw games with their tag traffic so its an environment that works for me

if i had started asking for money and packaging my things in a more commercial form i would be making a lot more with it i think and the people who followed me would already be accustomed to that. its just that for now ive valued people being able to play my things for free and my situation has allowed for it

everyone hates marketing but ultimately its about making the thing you made look good and be seen by others. a nice custom theme on an itch io page is more likely to get someone to stay than a game with blank profile no screenshots.

its important to make the thing you made look presentable and that's just finding your own voice by looking at how others do these things

the coolest story in the world isnt gonna sell if it doesn't have a nice cover if nobody knows that story exists.. but if people like the story they're more likely to stick around for future stuff and spread the word.. i think that matters more than what amount of money is being asked for a game as there are popular cheap games just as there are popular expensive games

idk. if theres more specific questsions ask again its a very broad thing

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phoenixblaze1412 · 1 year ago

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( > 3<) >🩷 HAI you already know who i am 😓 but can we get another baizhu x gn!ready fluff? -🎀

You never have to worry about healing your injuries or treating your illnesses because Baizhu has the remedies and cures at the ready.

With Baizhu as your partner, his first priority would always be you, even if he's suffering himself.

Which is why you tend to avoid yourself from getting hurt so you can take care of him instead, even ignoring him whenever he would say that he is fine when he is clearly not.

Changsheng is the one who snitches to you about everything that Baizhu has done that is either embarrassing or worrying.

"Your hussband bought you thiss pair of beautiful braceletss, he wanted you and him to wear each one."

"Changsheng, please... that was supposed to be my gift for them for our anniversary."

"(Y/n), come quick, thiss hussband of yourss got hurt after we encountered a ssmall group of hilichurlss."

"I'm alright, dear. I can take care of myself. I am a doctor after all."

"He jusst lied."

"Hush, Changsheng."

Qiqi would always refer to you as her mother, even before you married Baizhu. Considering how you would always be worrying and taking care of her and how she would see you and Baizhu exchanging forehead and cheek kisses to one another. She learned at that time that when two people do that then that means they're married. And since Qiqi saw Baizhu as her father figure, you are now recognized as her mother.

With Baizhu always cooped up at the pharmacy, you would always come and visit him daily to make sure he takes a break to relax and stretch his legs.

Baizhu memorized your daily schedule of whenever you would come to the pharmacy to invite him out to eat lunch. Hence, he would always inform Qiqi to take care of the pharmacy while he spends time with you.

Sometimes when Baizhu is overworking himself and isn't in the mood to sleep, you can easily change his mind by giving him a peck on the lips before leading him towards your shared bed to sleep. It always works and Baizhu isn't even complaining about how effective it is. As long as he gets to be pampered in your affections then he would gladly accept it.

Baizhu would let you braid his hair when he is too busy to do it himself. He also uses it as an excuse to be able to melt into your touch as your fingers glide through the strands of his hair, it always manages to give him butterflies in his stomach.

He would always prefer the meals you cook than those you can buy from a restaurant or when other people cook it when you're not with him. There's just this homely feeling he gets whenever he eats your homecooked meals. Besides, he always likes seeing you cook, it gives him a chance to stand behind you and wrap his arms around your waist.

You don't have to worry about Baizhu liking another person because his heart belongs to you only. He did marry you after all, he courted you for five years straight, he isn't afraid nor scared to tie the knot and put a ring on your finger.

There was this one time that Changsheng informed you about how a customer confessed their feelings to Baizhu at the pharmacy.

"He only sstared straight through them as if they were blocking hiss view. Ha! Can you believe that man? He even showed hiss wedding ring before rejecting them and telling the customer their bill for consulting him."

Baizhu would always be seeking out your affections. He cannot last a day if you weren't able to give him a kiss on the lips.

This man is a tease. He always like seeing your cheeks puffed up in a pout whenever he avoided kissing your lips. You just look so adorable he can't help it.

What he likes even more is seeing your face flushed red. He would whisper either sweet or suggestive things to you and watch as your face would turn as red as a tomato.

Sometimes you both could be seen cuddling on the couch and talk about random topics that would appear in your mind.

"Would you still love me if I turned into a worm?"

"What gave you such thought, dear? Of course I'd still love you, I'd even make a remedy to turn you back... only if Changsheng hasn't eaten you yet."

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #gender neutral reader #baizhu #baizhu x reader

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where-dreamers-go · 8 months ago

Text

“Adorably Okay” Bridge Carson x Reader

(A/N: Based on my Imagine: Bridge hearing your thoughts about him. I did not expect to do multiple revisions during and after typing it all up. Warnings: Reference to beginnings of a slight panic attack. Use of (Y/N). Word Count: 1,093 words)

Days could mostly be weird. It wasn’t their fault and it was mainly one’s perspective. Such was how people viewed each day in life.

Your day had been pretty average. Keeping a schedule. No big surprises. People, fellow cadets, around you were overall in pleasant spirits.

No big tests today apparently, you thought.

Sure, you weren’t on a path to become a Power Ranger, but that suited you just fine. There were plenty of other responsibilities. Ones you gladly shared with others throughout your time at Headquarters.

You saw enough of your crush, an actual Power Ranger, regardless of your job position. Lucky you. Your crush, Bridge Carson, was as nice as a dream. The two of you had talked before loads of times, but you hadn’t pursued anything beyond friendship.

Honestly, you weren’t sure how. But you were happy. Fully content to have a friendship with the most cute and intelligent person you knew.

And so darn adorable.

Walking from your room with a book of choice, you made your way through the halls, intent on returning the book to a friend. A cadet, busy as others.

Thankfully, the walk wasn’t far, even if S.P.D. Headquarters was enormous.

It was a wonder then, when a familiar pairing of grey and green caught your attention.

“Hey, Bridge,” you greeted as he started walking up to you with a smile.

That smile could brighten any day.

“Hi.” Bridge gave a short wave and quickly begun talking once he stood in front of you. “I heard your thoughts again. You think I’m adorable. How come—.”

A large book slipped from your fingers and dropped to the floor.

Everything in you seemed to go into a static mode, like you were somewhere between panic and complete shutdown. Worried thoughts trying to consume you.

He knows I like him? No. He can’t. What do I do? Why’s he here to tell me? Does he want me to stop?

“(Y/N)?” Bridge tilted his head. “(Y/N)?” His dark eyebrows pinched together in concern.

Upon Bridge’s announcement, it became impossible to function outside of your own mind. You were incredibly ill prepared.

He knows? Your vision hardly picked up details of the flooring. Worry started overtaking you. Pulling you away from your more rational thoughts.

Black-gloved hands grabbed a hold of your arms.

“Hey.” Bridge’s voice was gentle. “Can you hear me?” Thumbs rubbed small circles along your uniform.

He can’t just talk about my thoughts. Gah! Just…you can hear him. Answer him. Something. He’s worried.

Taking a moment or two, you were finally able to nod.

“Okay. Good. Uh.”

Just breathe, you thought. It’s okay. It’s okay. Don’t freak him out. He just wanted to talk. It’s Bridge not…something bad.

He took a step closer. “Here.” Bridge placed one your hands on the center of his chest. “Follow my breathing.”

Heat whipped through you in a confusing mixture of surprised panic and nervous excitement.

Okay?

“Breathe in.” His chest rose underneath your palm.

Staring where he held your hand to him, you copied his breathing. It went a little shaky. Yet you made progress.

“Breathe out.”

Exhaling, you felt the beating of your friend’s heart. Your crush’s heartbeat. Strong and uncharacteristically quick.

It’s okay. There’s nothing wrong. You closed your eyes and centered yourself. With Bridge as your anchor, you knew you were safe. No matter what surprising or intrusive thoughts made themselves known, you would be okay. Truly and honestly.

Out of all words to react to. He can’t know specifically how I feel from just that word. Goodness. And he wouldn’t be mean about it.

You swallowed.

“Please don’t surprise me like that.” You muttered, feeling calmer.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was soft. “Are you all right, now?”

“Yeah… My mind took a turn.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just thinking about you again.”

Your eyes snapped open. “Again?”

“Yeah. Thinking about what we ate yesterday, about what we were reading and which of your thoughts I’ve heard. You know.” His bright brown eyes could hardly keep steady eye contact with you while he spoke.

Glancing down to his chest, you focused on how the rate of his heart beat sped up. Neither of you made a move closer nor away.

“So, it’s okay that I think you’re adorable?” You asked, boldly keeping your hand on him.

Just breathe. This is new. Asking him is fine.

His other hand slipped down to hold your free hand. “Yes.”

Oh. Oh, he likes it?

“When I found you, I wanted to ask: how come you haven’t told me? Out loud. I wanted to know.”

The vulnerable conversation had opened. Both of you equally giving.

“I don’t know.” You answered truthfully. Sort of.

It’s not weird to call someone ‘adorable’, in general. If you know them. And he wanted to know why. Wants to.

“Do you want me to?” You asked quietly.

However empty the hallway appeared, sound carried. There was no telling who could walk by. Who might overhear or see.

The conversation curved closer to the heart.

Goodness and the universe knew how much Bridge meant to you. How much you liked him. Adored him. Even more so after he calmed you.

“Yes and I do like when I hear your thoughts too.” Bridge answered, his hand pressing yours more firmly on his chest. “And I really like you. I hope it’s alright to tell you now.”

Your mouth fell open slightly.

Was he truly telling you? Confessing to you?

Your feelings for him were reciprocated?

“Do you like me?” He asked timidly from your silence.

Those warm brown eyes pulled at your heartstrings. Tender and caring. Always attentive when you were near.

“I do. I really like you too.” You whispered.

Releasing both of your hands, Bridge held your face gently. His gaze and smile were just as soft. The speed of his heart was the only contrast.

He likes me. You thought happily, he’s adorable.

“So adorable.” You murmured.

Breathing out a small, delighted laugh, Bridge leaned forward and kissed you tenderly.

Your day had not gone weirdly nor had it been predictable. The day held warmth and good intentions.

A forgotten book.

Two friends standing in a hallway.

Tasks were on standby.

What was a few more kisses shared between two people?

“You’re so adorable and—”

He kissed you.

“—incredibly smart.” You continued and kissed him back.

Bridge smiled against your lips again as you played with his hair.

He was your adorable Power Ranger.

~~~

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful. coffee

Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~~~

DreamerDragon Tags: @

Bridge Carson Tags: @

**Let me know if you would like to be tagged in insert readers, either through replies, ask, or message.**

#power rangers imagine #bridge carson x reader #power rangers spd imagine #spd imagine #power rangers x reader #power rangers spd #power rangers spd x reader #spd bridge #bridge carson imagine #where dreamers go #green ranger #power rangers #buttery #fluff

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heartmix · 1 year ago

Text

Argument - MJF Headcanons

Pairing: mjf (maxwell jacob friedman) x gn!reader

Warning: swearing

A/N: going to start doing headcanons when I don't want to write a whole fic when a small idea pops into my head. this way ill be motivated to write more.

masterlist \ wrestling masterlist

you and Max on the same page were tolerable

you and Max mad at each other?

hell. a nightmare.

he's irritating, obnoxious, a pain to be around

"he's being such an asshole. how could he have said that?"

"you signed up for it when you started going out with him."

Max yelled at anyone and everything in his path

even objects that were in his way

“what idiot places a crate in the hallway. fucking stupid.”

the crate is there every week.

you were walking around irritated all day

resting bitch face

no one dares to speak to you

what was the fight about? no clue at this point.

"have a good promo asshole."

"I will darling, hope you break a leg during your match!"

"gladly will!"

it was confusing. it was compliments made to each other but it was in such an aggressive tone that nobody really understood if the words were genuine.

you both did tho. even in an argument you wished each other the best of luck

but some jabs needed to be thrown to keep up the facade

by the end of the show both of you are tired but neither would apologize.

none of you were mad at the other anymore

the car ride back to the hotel is quiet with Max texting away on his phone. he couldn't even look at you once during the whole ride.

when you opened the door to your shared hotel room you were greeted with two dozen roses and a pasta dinner.

"kissing ass Maxwell?" you asked teasingly, with a smirk playing on your lips

"not in that way." he quipped back not missing a beat.

the night ended with some cardio (where did the energy come from? no clue)

by the next day, you guys were strolling into the local gym hand in hand.

the few wrestlers who were there chuckled to themselves at the sudden mood change (or rolled their eyes, no in-between)

"want to help me do reps baby?"

"we're never going to get our work out in if i do."

#aew #aew imagine #aew x reader #mjf #maxwell jacob friedman x reader #maxwell jacob friedman imagine #maxwell jacob friedman #mjf x reader #mjf imagine #all elite wrestling

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keresnotceres · 1 year ago

Text

ker’s masterlist:

A list of my works for your convenience. Anything listed that is not underlined is unposted but is in the works! This is a working post, so it will update. As a result, more fandoms may be added.

This account is a side blog! If you get a reblog/like/follow from miloticaquarium i promise it’s me!! just like,, a less cool version of me lol

I also take requests :) Rules + Information under my works!

CALL OF DUTY: MODERN WARFARE II (2022)

headcanons:

TF 141: General HCs [sfw]

TF 141: NSFW HCs [nsfw]

TF 141: Civilian Lover [sfw]

TF 141: Realizing They Love You [sfw]

TF 141: “I Love You” [sfw]

MW2 Characters: as Lovers [sfw]

MW2 Characters: as Lovers (Angst) [sfw]

Valeria & Alejandro: 3some HCs [nsfw] (afab reader)

Ghost, Soap, & Gaz: Tattoo Artist Lover [sfw]

MW2 Characters: High School AU [sfw]

tbc…

oneshots:

ANGST:

You, With the Watercolor Eyes (Ghost x GN!Reader)

While on deployment, Ghost has nightmares in which you, his lover, fall out of love with him. The emotional turmoil from this causes him to fall into old, self-destructive habits. [sfw]

tbc…

FLUFF:

tbc…

SMUT:

Good, Good, Great (Ghost x Fem!Reader)

The two of you are roommates. You’re a bottle girl for the local strip club Myth, Ghost had been coerced into discussing information at the strip club. You’re miraculously on shift, and you’re flirting your way into a damn good tip. Just so happens that Ghost doesn’t like to share (even if you aren’t really his). [nsfw]

Say You're Mine (Ghost x Fem! Reader Good, Good, Great pt 2)

A few months later, Ghost takes his leave without telling you. He shows up to Myth unexpectedly on a busy Friday night while you have a plethora of tables to attend. Ghost doesn't seem to enjoy how you're serving a bachelor party, and he chooses to do something about it when the two of you get back to your shared flat. [nsfw]

tbc…

STAR WARS (THE MANDOLORIAN)

headcanons:

tbc…

FAIRY TAIL

headcanons:

Team Natsu: General HCs [sfw]

Sabertooth: General HCs [sfw]

tbc…

I usually stick to headcanons, but I sometimes stray to a one shot occasionally, requests are open for both! Please read the information below carefully before you request :)

I WILL WRITE: (I will gladly take requests for these)!

FEM and GN readers: As a cis girl, I am not particularly comfortable writing a male reader. Keep this in mind when requesting, please. If you don’t want a feminine reader, please let me know to write with a GN reader in mind and I’ll happily do so!

Fem and Masc characters: I will write for both! I like both so why wouldn’t I write for both?

Angst: My FAVORITE thing to write!! Please send me sad things to write about and I will literally speed right through it like a child mowing through a bag of apple slices.

Fluff: Sometimes consuming copious amounts tooth-rotting fluff to cope with the depressing content you just consumed is just what you need!

Smut: I can and will do it because I am nothing more than a simp; but you better look at the thin ice and will not write sections before you even think of asking me. Generic kinks and light BDSM are okay, see other categories for constraints.

Mental Health Struggles: Reader or character! Can include mental illnesses, coping mechanisms, and things like self harm or eating disorders. Not technically mental health related, but insecurities and family issues are also welcome.

THIN ICE: (I could write it, but it icks me).

Pregnancy and/or Breeding Kink, Somnophilia, CNC, and Cheating.

Throwing up/Vomit: I am extremely emetophobic. The only way I'll accept anything with something like this is: a) it's previous to what I am writing and/or b) it relates to an ED.

Slowburn: Not really my thing. Like, I could try, but it won’t really end up being a slow burn. Maybe like a going-the-speed-limit burn.

I WILL NOT WRITE: (If you ask me for any of these, you’re getting blocked!).

MALE reader: I’m sorry but as a person who is not and will not ever be a man I just don’t feel comfortable writing in the perspective of one.

Certain kink/fetishes (DDLG, ageplay, scat, uro, & other such bodily functions, feet), Incest, Pedophilia/Underage, Rape, Sexual assault, and Yandere/Stalker behavior.

KER is the singular form of KERES, a female spirit of death from Ancient Greek mythos. CERES is a dwarf planet named after the Roman goddess of agriculture, fertility, and motherly relationships.

#masterlist #requests open #reqs open #request rules #fanfic writer #hc masterlist #fic masterlist #ker yells

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vickyvicarious · 7 months ago

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(In order to not derail op's thread, and jic they've not finished reading the books, hope this is ok) The madness/mental illness discussion between Laura and Jonathan made me think about the in-between of Jonathan leaving the hospital and then being validated!

One thing is, pre-Hawkins death, Mina states to Lucy that Jonathan has been working hard, but that he is weak still and placid, and also that he has nightmares. It tells on them both, because Mina cannot get a full night's sleep due to him waking up screaming and she needs to soothe him. Journal aside, Mina says she is so worried about his nerves that she doesn't communicate with him about how tired she is herself. It reminds me of Walter wanting to protect Laura from distress.

Post-Hawkins death, Jonathan gets worse. "He says the amount of responsibility which it puts upon him makes him nervous. He begins to doubt himself. I try to cheer him up, and my belief in him helps him to have a belief in himself. But it is here that the grave shock that he experienced tells upon him the most. Oh, it is too hard that a sweet, simple, noble, strong nature such as his—a nature which enabled him by our dear, good friend’s aid to rise from clerk to master in a few years—should be so injured that the very essence of its strength is gone."

Not a very traditionally ''manful'' picture, but Mina never goes there. Still, he throws himself into work. Mina says her belief in him helps Jonathan believe in himself. Maybe Laura would have benefited from being believed in.

What prompts Walter to do something drastic is when Laura weeps in her sleep. What prompts Mina to break the seal later is when Jonathan faints in public and loses the memory of it.

The way Mina treats Lucy and Jonathan in illness seems equal. She keeps their secrets upon their request too. Walter and Mina take similar active roles for their spouses, though Mina isn't necessarily masculine for it.

An interesting imho comparison could also be when Mina chooses to consult Van Helsing while Jonathan is away for his first work trip and how they communicate throughout it, and Walter with the sisters.

Aside, when she asks Van Helsing to help Jonathan, he says, "I promise you that I will gladly do all for him that I can—all to make his life strong and manly, and your life a happy one." Van Helsing promises to make his life manly, though Mina had asked to make him "well again". So he kind of made it about gender, though it wasn't for Mina.

(I also wonder if we can call Jonathan ''cured'' really, as he doesn't actually return to his former self, but it'd get too long!)

(Tagging @animate-mush because the WIW substack has ended now, hopefully you're all caught up... but regardless no spoilers past where we were last week.)

Anon, you sum up my thoughts incredibly well: "Maybe Laura would have benefited from being believed in."

I think that is perhaps the most major difference between the recovery period for the two of them. Because while they both have remarkably similar symptoms, and both their spouses hide stuff from them for a while... when things come to a head Mina chooses to believe in Jonathan. Not just in supporting him as he goes back to work (which you're right, he has little choice about doing - an external gendered element there, where societal pressures/norms mean Jonathan kind of has to get to work and Laura is never expected to at all); Mina trusts Jonathan with information, with an important role in what follows.

There's obvious contextual differences. Jonathan knew he could access his lost memories and explicitly didn't want to unless it was necessary. He put the power to decide that in Mina's hands (and it was his request but still her choice to share in his ignorance until she needed more information). When she reads his journal, she's trying to better help him within parameters they have both agreed to. When she eventually tells him everything is true, she's trusting that this will be validating for him and help him heal, help him be more "well again" (though you're right both that he never returns to his former self, and that Van Helsing is the only one who brings gender into it with his assumption that Mina's looking to make Jonathan more manly).

Laura never had an equivalent - both in terms of a discussion with the ones leaving her out for the sake of her mental health, and in the sense of some record she knows she can fall back on. She didn't have a hidden journal when she was being drugged or in the asylum. Most of the information Walter and Marian gather is from other people.

I think there is a period where both Jonathan and Laura have information hidden from them for their own sake. And I don't think that was inherently wrong or anything; in fact I think it was somewhat needed. Jonathan got the chance to explicitly ask for that period of ignorance. We don't quite have any such dialogue from Laura, but the narration still tells us that there were certain topics that were very confusing to her or which she didn't like to linger on (and her experience with Mr. Fairlie even after getting out of the asylum can't have helped), and there's that scene where she says she will "try to get better", showing recognition of how unwell she currently is. I think they both need this time to focus on recovering, and their spouses/loved ones want to support them so they can do so. Again, the societal gender role divides them here: Jonathan has to work and in fact has to take on new/more challenging work, while Laura doesn't and can devote more time to rest and recovery. There's benefits and drawbacks to both of those, in my mind. Jonathan got support from Mina and reassurance that she (and Mr. Hawkins) believed in him, which was helpful. On the other hand, it stressed him out more and he was still suffering from his nightmares, etc. Laura got more time to take it easy without having other stress added on, which was helpful. But on the other hand, she didn't get the same level of trust and belief in her ability to, if not 'return to normal,' at least to be productive and helpful in some way.

Yeah, I'm talking about her drawings. I think that is where the big divide comes. Because when she wants to contribute and help with the household, Walter decides to lie to her and play-act that she is bringing in money. I get that he's trying to avoid letting her stress over money, but it feels so condescending. He's treating her like a child rather than being honest with her - right after she asks him not to treat her like a child. Maybe being honest would just be telling her that she's not well enough to work/that it wouldn't be safe, and that he has the money handled. Maybe they'd come up with some other way she could chip in. At least she'd be involved in the discussion as she clearly wanted to be. And while I don't think she would be involved in the hunting down different accounts or confrontations that follow at the end of the book any more than Marian was, I think they should have told her what was going on. That doesn't necessarily mean giving her all the nitty gritties especially if they're triggering to her; but giving her the chance to speak for herself, to add her thoughts, even to ask to be left out if she thinks she can't handle it. She never gets that. There's no reevaluation later on.

Both Jonathan and Laura were denied validation in a way that made them doubt their sanity. Jonathan's experiences were supernatural and he fears he lost his mind. Laura was lied to and gaslit about her own identity, outright told she was suffering from delusions. Revealing that the supernatural things he remember are real was validating for Jonathan in itself, even as he still had all the accompanying trauma. Laura's (official/public) validation isn't possible until after the villains are defeated and everything is over, which in a sense stretches out that middle period. Similarly, Jonathan getting the information leads right into him getting a change to assuage his feelings of guilt and seek revenge, which could be cathartic for him. Laura probably wouldn't have the same opportunities or even desire to do so, and so maybe looping her in wouldn't have been as helpful. But it feels cruel to me never to give her the option. After a certain point, it's no longer just trying to spare her from distress, but it feels like believing she isn't capable of handling any at all.

I guess that's what feels most gendered to me. Walter, and to an extent Marian too, don't treat Laura like an adult or an equal after her experience. This does happen throughout the book, but it gets so much more egregious after she's rescued from the asylum. Marian talks about women/is kind of treated like an exception to women in general, and Walter is leaving both women out in key moments. So given how women were typically seen as less capable, to me it feels somewhat bound up in that rather than just being about her specifically (I think she handles/is capable of a lot more than she's given credit for). Mina doesn't do really that, she doesn't really bring gender into her treatment of either Jonathan or Lucy in the same way. And while others in Dracula do, it's shown to be more of a mistake.

#dracula daily #dracula daily spoilers #woman in white weekly #anonymous #replies #dracula meta #wiw meta #i'm so mad about the drawings lie okay

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