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littlegreenteacup · 2 days ago

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I'm Gonna Marry You One Day

Summary: At the end of a very long week (Y/N) is tasked with caring for a less than sober Eric. As the night wares on Eric's usual tough guy exterior melts away leaving the Eric she remembers from childhood.

Word Count: 3,881

Warnings: Drunk Eric, Someone slipped him something and its making him act a bit different than usual, passing references to working as an ER doctor - of sorts, dubious consent - i don't know how much consent can be given in this situation, It's not marked NSFW for anything smutty just other things.

A/N: I'm so bad at summaries. The book the reader is listening to is from Essex Dogs by Dan Jones - I've never read it but I was listening to a history podcast from the same author during work and it made more sense to have her listening to a book instead of a podcast. I also had a really specific idea of the things in the reader's apartment, or at last the things that were described, and I have no idea how to include descriptions of those items without over explaining, so if I have time I might come up with some kind of drawing or something and post it somewhere. I don't know yet.

A/N 2: Yeah, no. I've already forgot what kind of bullshit i was talking about, but this is what I get for posting something to tumblr months after i posted it to Ao3, which is where that first note is from.

It had started right after dinner had ended in the Pit. The customary Friday evening crowd of Dauntless, young and old, seeking alcohol and company for the evening streaming into the cavernous room, loud conversations and cheers and greetings called from across the room echoing off the ceiling. (Y/N), never one for the noise and chaos of Dauntless parties, had opted to stay in her apartment, heat up a cup of leftover soup and read a book.

It had been a long week compounded by an even longer day, Eric and Four were never easy on the initiates but this year’s bunch were particularly whiny, and she had paid the price for it. Every few hours Eric or Four or one of the few initiates still standing after the latest round of fights had showed up at the door to her office, the arm of whatever poor bastard had been the latest to receive a beating slung over their shoulder. She would direct them to lay their victim on an open cot and go about the unfortunately familiar process of patching up her newest patient.

All week it had been bad - whoever thought allowing the untrained and idiotic young adults free reign in the evenings to drink, party and be absolute idiots and then turn around and expect them to be able shoot straight during target practice the next morning was not her favorite person at the moment - and Friday morning had been the cherry on top. She’d woken up three hours earlier than usual to an urgent message from one of the night nurses about an infirmary full of patients thanks to a drinking game gone very wrong and an accident involving a train car that disconnected from the rest of the train leaving anyone onboard to jump – weather it was an ideal situation or not. Normally the latter group would have been sent straight to the more well equipped city hospital, but Dauntless had been the closest medical facility, and so doctors from the hospital had instead been dispatched to help with the sudden influx of patients making the infirmary even more crowded than it would have otherwise been, and giving (Y/N) a migraine from dealing with some of her former faction-mates who had also gone into medicine – Leaonard was still and asshole and he probably always would be, but it was as sorry state of affairs if his snide remarks and cruel jeers offered some form of comfort in that they were predictable – all while trying, and occasionally failing, to keep her patients from being in too much pain from their injuries. And all of this wasn’t including the stomach bug that had been going around and had laid out several senior medical staff, leaving (Y/N) overworked, and the infirmary understaffed, all week.

Later on in the morning, once the initiates had started their day, Eric had been in a particularly pissy mood and had had them all running six miles around the compound. When one of the smaller girls had tripped over some loose gravel and scraped her knees up badly enough to need stitches, and in the process caused some of the other initiates to trip over her, he dragged them all in to see (Y/N), and berated the poor girl who had started the pile up for her clumsiness until (Y/N) had had enough and told Eric to either grab a pair of tweezers and help take the gravel out of the girl’s knees or to get out. Eric had shot her a dark look but left anyway, muttering under his breath the entire way back to wherever he had come from.

The rest of the day had followed similarly, one disaster after another, one accident leaving her infirmary more packed than before until early evening when the ambulances had arrived to take the patients in need of more intensive care or who needed to be watched for the night to the city hospital, and anyone else was sent home bandaged and bruised with prescriptions to fill at the pharmacy down the hall.

(Y/N) had spent another hour or so catching up on the paperwork she had neglected in favor of her patients, and then left for the evening, leaving her infirmary in the care of the night staff until the next shift change in the morning, when the weekend staff would take over. Having missed dinner in the Pit, she had elected to go straight home, where she could take a hot shower, enjoy a glass or two of wine some leftover soup and read her book. As an Erudite transfer (Y/N) had never quite managed to rid herself of her love of books and reading, nor did she particularly care to, and so to her spending a Friday evening at home making some headway on the novel she had started the week before was a far better proposition than jockeying for space at the bar among drunk faction-mates who were already too far gone to understand what a healthy distance might be, regardless of how early in the evening it might have been.

That was how it had started. And with the week she’d had (Y/N) wasn’t entirely sure why she was surprised when Four showed up at her door with an incredibly drunk, and possibly high, Eric with him.

“What the hell happened to him?” (Y/N) asked, as Four half stepped half stumbled through the door, the other man weighing him down, and made his way to the living room where he deposited Eric on the sofa and stood up straight before turning to the woman in front of him, with an almost amused smirk on his face.

“He got drunk in the Pit, and I think someone slipped him something too” Four said scratching his head.

With a sigh, (Y/N) grabbed a green cream and pink striped afghan blanket off the back of her sofa and draped over Eric’s shoulders as he sat, grinning like an idiot, staring at the overcrowded bookshelf against her living room wall.

“I don’t know what though.” Four turned back to the front door, “you gonna be okay with him?”

(Y/N) raised a brow at his question, “Why wouldn’t I be?” She asked the older man in front of her.

“I don’t know,” Four responded, “it’s Eric,” he continued, “Tris said you be the best bet for someone who could take care of him while he was like this, but I thought I’d ask anyway.”

“Uh huh,” (Y/N) rolled her eyes “and if I said ‘no’ what would you have done?”

Four didn’t say anything. It was a rhetorical question and they both already know the answer.

“Tell Tris I said ‘hi’, will you?” (Y/N) snickered at the blush that flushed Four’s cheeks at the mere mention of his girlfriend. Tris’s reaction would have been the same, their good old fashioned Abnegation upbringing rearing its head, and (Y/N) had never missed a chance to tease Tris about her crush on Four during Initiation, and that teasing extended to Four as well once both girls had passed and been welcomed into Dauntless, their social circles overlapping fairly extensively once (Y/N) had taken over management of the infirmary, and Tris had started dating their former instructor. But that overlap had also extended to Eric. He and Four weren’t exactly what anyone could call friends, but they did end up in the same place at the same time more often than not, and that resulted in (Y/N) and Eric spending a fair bit of time together, and before she knew it, (Y/N) found herself falling love with him.

Her obvious feelings for the man had led to more than a few teasing comments from Four, Tris, and especially from Christina whose Candor tendencies only seemed to become more apparent once she was accepted.

Four nodded his goodbye to (Y/N), and headed out the door, closing it softly in his wake, as (Y/N) went back to the kitchen. If she was taking care of an inebriated Eric she couldn’t have that glass of wine she been looking forward to all day, instead she filled the kettle she kept on her stove with water from the sink, lit the largest burner on her stove and placed the kettle over it. Taking down two oversized mugs from the cabinet, and a box of teabags from its place by her fridge, (Y/N) set the items next to the stove, ready and waiting for the water to boil.

Turning, she glanced into the living room to check and see what Eric was doing, and she almost let out a giggle at the sight in front of her. Big mean Eric, whose bark was just as bad as his bite most of the time, was laying on her sofa, his long legs sticking out over the arm on one side, his head resting on the other. For a second, she thought he was sleeping, and then she heard him murmuring to himself and watched in mild amusement as the man she’d harbored a crush on for the last few years reached an arm up and traced the shapes of the constellations she’d painted on her ceiling through the air. As (Y/N) stepped further into the room, she could see that his eyes were large and he had a soft goofy smile on his face.

The whistle of the kettle called her back to the kitchen, and as she turned off the stove and pored the water into the waiting mugs, she was reminded that it was the rare appearance of a soft vulnerable Eric - the one she had known in her childhood when he’d been the one to find her crying in a windowsill and get her book of fairytales back from some older kids for her - that was the reason she’d always liked the man, even when he had been harder on her during initiation than anyone else. This was the version of Eric that made her laugh when she was upset, who made her hear beat faster in her chest when he shot her a sly smirk, the version who would show up unannounced at the door to the infirmary just as her shift ended and insist on walking her home again. The Eric that would leave her at her door, and wish her a good night, and each time there was a slight hesitation before he turned and left, as if he had something else, he couldn’t quite bring himself to say. This was the Eric she had fallen in love with.

Shaking her head, (Y/N) dismissed the memories, fixed the two mugs of tea with milk and sugar and placed a pot on the stove to reheat the soup she’d made the night before. Turning the burner at the back of the stove down to simmer, she took a sip of her tea, savoring the moment, and cradling the warm cup in her hands. Gingerly setting the mug down on the counter, (Y/N) turned to the speaker she kept on her counter and turned it before pressing resume on the audiobook she had begun earlier in the day.

…'Christ's bones, wake up!' 'Loveday' FitzTalbot jerked his head up. Father had dug him in the ribs with a sharp elbow. Despite the cold saltwater spray that whipped his face, the rocking of the landing craft had lulled him into a moment of sleep. He had dreamed he was at home. But now his eyes were open again, he saw that he was not. They were still here. Out at sea. As far from home as they had ever been. Getting further from it every second…

The warm timber of the narrator’s accented voice echoed throughout the tiny apartment, as she placed Eric’s mug of tea on the table in front of the sofa. Returning to the kitchen, and leaning against the counter, he own mug once again in hand, it wasn’t long before (Y/N) was lost in the story.

…waved airily at him and told him there would be plenty enough to make good sport. He said he had this directly from the Marshal of the Army, Lord Warwick, who had it from King Edward himself. Noble men. Knightly men. Men who knew best. If I had wanted good sport, thought Loveday, I would have stayed home in Essex, playing dice in the inn near Colchester and paying a penny to lay my head of a night between the thighs of Gilda, the alewife's girl. But he had held his peace with Sir Robert. The man was a fool, but he was the fool who had recruited them for this campaign. Who would pay their wages for the next forty days. The Dogs hired their sword- and bow-arms…

Eric, still half dazed and laying on the sofa, turned his head so he could see (Y/N) in the Kitchen, the sight if her, so engrossed in the story playing through the speaker, had warmth blossoming in his chest. Stumbling to his feet, Eric was dimly aware of the dull thud sound his shin made as it hit the edge of the coffee table, the mug of tea (Y/N) had placed there for him almost tipping over in the process.

Stumbling over his socked-feet – when had his boots been taken off? – and across the soft blue and red rug in the living room and into the kitchen, Eric couldn’t help but grin at the sight in front of him.

(Y/N), once again cradling her mug of tea, had a soft amused smile spreading across her face, as she watched Eric clumsily make his way into the kitchen. The fairy-lights under the cabinets casting a warm glow across the pair of them.

As the chapter of the audiobook (Y/N) had been listening to came to a close, she switched the speaker to music, the lyrics and instruments blending into one as Eric’s attention focused on the woman standing in front of him, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. Her hair was tied up in a messy braid, strands of hair falling out of place and casting shadows across her cheeks, the t-shirt she wore was several sizes too large with the logo of some band he knew she liked emblazoned across the front – he wondered if she would be the type to steal his shirts if given the chance – (Y/N) wore a large maroon knit cardigan over the top of her shirt. It was obvious, even in his less than sober state of mind, that (Y/N) had been ready for a peaceful night in.

Hearing the music, almost as if for the first time, Eric reached forward with both hands outstretched as if in invitation, and as soon as (Y/N) had set her, now empty, mug down, he grasped her hands and pulled her into his chest, spinning them both around the tiny kitchen with surprising grace for how out of it he had been when he’d arrived only an hour or two before.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but let out a breathless dizzy laugh as Eric spun her around and around in time with the music that poured from the speaker. As the song ended, Eric pulled her into his chest, burying his nose in her hair, his arms wrapped securely around her. She’d never felt so safe. The scent of his cologne – smokey and woodsy with a hint of some kind of citrusy note – mixed with the warm familiar smell of him and the acrid tinge of gun powder, metal, and boot polish.

Eric wrapped his arms tighter around (Y/N), inhaling deep breaths of her shampoo and perfume. He was so calm. Everything felt right in the world with her in his arms – there was no awful, bloody, violent past dragging him down, no worries about what might have happened had things not gone the way they had, no concerns about what the idiots he was training were doing or how they might behave the next morning, none of that. Everything was perfect and calm. Peaceful. Still. Everything was exactly as it should be in that moment.

Without thinking about it, Eric pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and murmured six little words that he never would have had the courage to say at any other time: “‘m gonna marry you one day.”

(Y/N) froze. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought Eric Coulter of all people would say that to her. She had never thought he would, in any situation, return her affections. And she had most defiantly never thought that Eric would be the one to say something first.

But he was drunk, possibly still high on whatever drug he had been given earlier in the evening, and not in any state to be having this conversation. (Y/N) pulled herself out of his grasp as best she could, a sad tired smile having replaced the bright happy one she’d had on only moments before, and firmly guided Eric back the sofa in the living room. She guided him to lay down and covered him with the same warm wool afghan she had wrapped over his shoulders earlier that evening.

Before she could pull away entirely, Eric wrapped his arms around her waist again, and tugged, gently, pulling (Y/N) onto the couch and against his chest before falling into a deep sleep, thoroughly exhausted from the long week and feeling very warm and sleepy in this cozy apartment with too many fairly lights and books stacked everywhere, with stars painted on the ceiling and dragons napping on tea mugs; the warm milky smell of cinnamon and tea permeating the entire space, and the woman he’d been in love with for years curled up against him.

Knowing there was no point in trying to get up and go to bed once she heard Eric’s first snore, (Y/N), for her part, curled further into the comfort of Eric’s warm embrace and the comforting rhythm of his breathing, tugged part of the large blanket over herself, and surrendered to the siren call of sleep. Eric’s tea and the soup they’d never bothered to eat both forgotten where they lay.

As the sun shone through the large arched window of her living room, it’s light diffused by the sheer curtains she long ago embroidered with golden stars, (Y/N) woke to the feeling of gentle circles being traced across her back. Remembering that she was still curled up with Eric on the sofa, she hazarded a glance up, he eyes meeting the steely blue-gray gaze of the man whose arms were wrapped around her. Eric looked as exhausted as he always did, but something in his eyes was more relaxed and at peace then she had ever seen him.

Slowly, and rather reluctantly, extricating herself from his arms, (Y/N) stood up from her spot on the sofa, already missing the warmth from being pressed against Eric’s chest. Pacing softly into the kitchen, she opened the cabinet in the corner, pulled down the basket of medication and grasped the bottle of ibuprofen and taking out two of the flat white pills. Gently placing them on the counter, she turned to get a glass out of the other cabinet. Reaching up, the only clean water glass was only slightly out of reach.

Before she could get the stepstool out of the pantry, Eric’s warm chest pressed against her back, his arm reaching up to grasp the glass and take it down for her. Taking it from his grasp, (Y/N) placed it on the counter and filled it with water from the pitcher in the fridge. Pressing both the glass of water and the pills into Eric’s hand, (Y/N) hoisted herself onto the counter as he took the offered medication and placed the glass in the sink.

“I meant what I said,” Eric’s voice still rough from sleep, (Y/N)’s eyes went wide as she looked up at him, “I’m going to marry you one day,” Eric tried again, “I promised I would the day we met.”

(Y/N) couldn’t keep the grin off her lips at his words. The day they met, it seemed like lifetimes ago and at the same time like it could have happened only yesterday.

“The day we met?” she questions, Eric flushes slightly. They were only kids then “Do you mean the day you got my book back for me?”

Eric simply wraps his arms around (Y/N)’s waist, buries his nose in her hair and inhales, “Yeah,” he responds, “the last time I ever did anything good in my life,” he pauses, inhales deeply, and continues, “and don’t say it isn’t true – I’ve done more than my fair share of things that should never have been allowed to happen,”

“Eric,” (Y/N) says softly, resting a gentle hand against his cheek, “what you did…” she trails off.

“What I did,” Eric continues, this time keeping eye contact, “I could have known was wrong so much sooner if I had wanted to,” his chest hitches with a barely there sob, “I should have known, and I chose not to.”

(Y/N), still sitting atop the kitchen counter, pulls the taller man standing in front of her into a hug, “I’m not asking you right now,” Eric continues, “but one day, when I’m not a complete mess, and I have a ring for you, I’m going to ask you to marry me,” here he cuts off, a look of hope and fear in his eyes, that takes (Y/N)’s breath away, “and then it’s up to you.”

“What are you saying?” she asks, confusion coloring her clear voice, “are you…what” she can’t quite form the thoughts in her head into a complete sentence. There isn’t a way to form those thoughts into any sentence at all – this situation is too strange, too bizarre, too something and too nothing to be able to fully comprehend what it is Eric is saying.

Eric takes a breath, something between a sigh and a laugh and a desperate pleading bid for enough strength to get through this moment.

“I haven’t really asked you anything,” tears are beginning to well at his lower lash line, and (Y/N) is struck nearly dumb by the simple fact that Eric fucking Coulter is here, in her kitchen, confessing that he’s apparently been in love with her for years and that he wants to marry her.

“First things first,” (Y/N) interjects, a brief look of relief flashing in Eric’s eyes, there and gone in a second, “why don’t we go out, and see how this goes, and decide from there.”

There’s a finality in those words neither care to analyze. They have been together without being together for a long time. In another life, they probably would have already been married, or maybe not. Eric might have decided a long time ago that the only woman he would marry was (Y/N), but it’s only the events of the last few years that have brought back the Eric that (Y/N) would entertain the idea of marrying. The one she knew years ago. The one who was her quite protector in school. The one who pushed her to do, to be, her best in initiation. The one she’d been in love with for years.

#eric coulter x reader #eric coulter #x reader #divergent

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02mila · 1 year ago

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#another successful interaction with my father #i mean i take responsibility bc it was my fault #is it weird that i dont want to go give something to a relative and then leave? bc i didnt wanted and got yelled at #i see this relative regularly but never speak to him like never even when i was little #like with most of my family members #i just never had a conversation with anyone that was an adult #i mean yes i had some conversations but just small talk and nothing important #i never gave my opinion on stuff adults were discussing on the table #and never got asked to give it anyway #but now that i am an adult and i am supposed to interact with others and family members i dont want to #bc it feels so weird like what do i say what do i do?#and just now my father asking me to give this relative something and then come back home just felt awful and didnt do it #my mom did it for me but i got yelled by my dad and shamed bc i am an adult i shouldnt act this way #and then he yelled at mom and well.. it's always the same #they fight bc i do stupid and irrational things and i dont act my age #i want to blame myself but i also blame the way i was rised by adults when i was a child #i just hate interacting with adults family members because it just feels so weird and i get nervous #anyways i feel awful now #personal

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nebucat · 9 months ago

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spending a couple weeks away from home and away from my toxic parent in a loving and comfortable environment at my partner's home has been an interesting and eye opening experience.

#vent #just had a conversation over text with my parent and they pretty much guilt tripped me like 5 consecutive times #because i havent been home and have been operating more independently #unfortunately i cried because it sunk in how controlling of my life theyve been #and how much theyve sabatoged it #i hate it so much that ive felt so helpless and stuck in life progression paralysis #because i was never set up to succeed #and i dont want to have to depend entirely on anyone anymore #but there's still so much i dont know how to do when it comes to being an adult #part of me feels guilty for prioritizing comfort and fleeting happiness for so long #that ive neglected to do the hard parts myself like moving and taxes and indepence #things i wish i had figured out by now #regardless #the shock of having true peace when youve gone so long finding comfort in an uncomfortable situation #is astounding

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britneyshakespeare · 11 months ago

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i was hanging out today w a friend i hadn't seen in awhile and kaily and i were catching up on all the drama involving him (my controlling manipulative and abusive ex-friend) and how he keeps going out of his way to ask ppl about where we are and find us and how the only reason i think i get out of it is bc i don't go to the same college as him anymore, i hardly ever leave the house socially and the few ppl i do see all have no connection w him anymore, and i don't work at some place where he can just show up. i work in pre-k-to-12 public schools. my schedule in terms of days/location is irregular anyway, but if some strange adult man shows up for no particular reason and seeks out a female employee, you do not just get let in. that is how you have the cops called on you. but he does know where i live and i have been paranoid about him finding some excuse to show up at my house. i've had legitimate nightmares about that. i never stopped having nightmares about him i'd say at least once every other week and i haven't talked to him in almost six months.

i don't like at all how i don't feel safe in a way that means i have faith that the issue is over; the person is out of my life; our communication will not be renewed against my will once again. bc all of those things have been attempted. i feel safe in a way that means he happens, by circumstance, not to be able to access me in any convenient way to him. any way he could find me (the only way to feasibly do that would be work/home) would be a justification for calling the police. but i don't have any faith that he wouldn't try, because he has shown himself as being capable of being that low. and if i switch jobs or transfer schools finally and he finds out about it, he can just make it an issue there if he so feels like it, and i'm sure he will. he's a monster. he gets some sort of thrill out of making other ppl feel unsafe and having all the control in the situation

#tales from diana #it was very validating to talk to her bc she never really liked him #in fact i used to be so humiliated when i'd bring him to hang out w my older friends #bc he'd go oooon and on and on about how nobody listens to him nobody understands him nobody cares about or appreciates him #and then i'd be like 'oh my friends are good ppl! ill introduce u' and i did. i made the effort to bring him to them a LOT #(and he would make me feel like he envied me for my oh-so-superior life which i most definitely do not have)#but then he would not listen to her not understand her not care about her and not appreciate her #nor any of my friends for that matter. but he was SO disinterested in her in particular in a way that was just sooo disrespectful #he wouldnt let me hold a conversation w her. or let me bring her into a conversation w him. he'd DOMINATE #in general he didn't like me talking to anybody else or anyone talking to anyone else or anyone else talking #ive never seen a man who cared so little about somebody else getting to finish a sentence.#and like there's a lot of adhd in our friend group. we all (myself especially) have our spirited interjections #and occasionally interrupt but we realize when we're doing it and then pull back & let the other person finish #we try to keep other ppl on track w what they were saying when they go on a tangent #you know. we try and communicate effectively #even tho we r not naturally perfect at it lol.#we're adults who respect each other it's almost like!#but yeah. he was only interested in impressing the couple of men in my friend group essentially #he'd talk abt how my two guy friends r cool & how he wants to be closer to them #and i'd stick up for this woman i hung out w today & he had just absolutely no interest in her #she never liked him anyway which was so baller of her. good on her. she detected his rudeness #and that rudeness used to vex me so much. i suppose bc i couldnt bear to see him treat other ppl how he treated me #altho to a much lesser extent w the overt lovebombing he did to me and the traumadumping and intense reliance upon me #he seriously needed my attention 24/7 it didn't matter if i was studying or working or in bed sick for two weeks #literally he and his vapid fucking needs came before everything in my life according to him. always. crazy #the entitlement of that man is ridiculous. so of course he thinks there's nothing wrong w seeking me out #of course.#i wouldnt care if he died

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boyapologist · 1 year ago

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sweetheart please love me too long my heart’s too strong love me too long sweetheart please let me hold on to these old songs I’ve loved too long

#hi I had two beers in a bar with a bunch of flight attendant colleagues and I'm SAD #the more I interact with normal people the more I see how I'm a fucking weirdo lmao #at least I'm working on my pretending skills #like. I can now pretend I'm a normal person and have loud bar conversations and spend 16 bucks on a beer I know costs 5 #but deep down when I get home I know that's just so fundamentally not me...?#and the fact that I can't interact with people showcasing the real me it's just kinda sad #also everyone was talking abt their sex lives and love lives and I was just sitting there laughing along #like I wasn't a 21 year old who no one has ever wanted and hasn't even had their first kiss yet #and the more I interact with people the more I see I'll always be the fat kind kid who no one will ever consider as fuckable #I'm literally the fat friend lmao #I feel like I lost all of the chances I had to change that in high-school #and now I'm an adult who's never kissed anyone and has absolutely zero game #so it'll probably stay like that. that's so fucking sad #I'm going to die not knowing what KISSING feels like. what the fuck.#anyways I'm just tipsy and lonely lol I'm gonna shower and go to bed now #probably put on the ❤️ video and have a little cry sess beforehand and that's ok #we love dying alone and being a unfuckable weirdo!#rambles*

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rimouskis · 2 years ago

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got dinner with the sisters tonight and I had the oh fuck, you're an adult realization about the youngest one.

#it's so wild how being around them brings up so many of my old wounds from childhood (self-inflicted)#that are so clearly just baked into my being at this point #—how I feel really lame in comparison to them #how I find them so keenly social and blossoming in ways I never really felt I could achieve—#but the middle one is adjusting so so well to living alone and coming into her own as an adult in a huge city. it's really awesome to see.#she suffered from middle child syndrome a bit but it made her strong in ways me and the youngest aren't #I think my very desperate need for my sisters to find me cool is SO transparent and close to the surface when I'm with them #and that I fundamentally think they are much cooler and more worldly and experienced than me also feels very close to the surface lol #(those are The Old Wounds ahahaa)#idk I'm not sure I'll ever NOT feel this way. even if I'm the only child who moved out of our state;#even if I've been living alone for many years and they're just freshly out of home #I think it's one of those things that will always be with me because of [mumbles] several influential factors in growing up #and the sort of ... awe and jealousy I've always felt towards them because of how the birth order worked out #with the gap between me and them larger than the gap between the two of them and how our schooling choices broke down #anyways this is maybe the primal wound that has made me so fucking weird/intense about every friendship I've ever had since #I love them more than anyone in the world; I want them to be as impressed by me as I am impressed by them;#I find myself ultimately unimpressive in comparison and that childhood thought will stay with me for -- perhaps -- life #anyways I love them so much and it was awesome spending most of the day with the middle one and getting to make conversation with her.#she is so cool

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wilder-fangirl · 10 months ago

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i really only have 2 modes: longing for a man and buying stuff online and i am about to order some things so that i don't text this man who is clearly not interested in me in the same way i'm interested in him

#THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS #WHEN GUYS YOUR AGE DON'T SHOW ANY INTEREST IN YOU #YOU START FALLING FOR A GUY 17 YEARS OLDER THAN YOU #BECAUSE YOU GAVE UP ON EVERYONE ELSE #AND HE'S A GOOD PERSON YOU ARE ACTUALLY ABLE TO MAKE CONVERSATION WITH AND WHO LIKES BEING AROUND YOU #i'm also and adult and he'd not grooming me if anyone is concerned #i have BEEN groomed so i know what it looks like #i'm actually pursuing him #but yeah i just feel like myself around him so much #and we're like always on the same wavelength #and we're both hugg-y folx i don't feel like a creep if i want to hug him #and we like a lot of the same music #and then he brings up his kids and i'm like fuck why was i not born 10 years earlier so i could be in a relationship with this man #and be a step mom to his children they're so freaking adorable and sweet #i don't really want the dudes my age anymore i want him #we just work so well #i've never had that with any of the guys i've been interested in #they just make me feel really scared and i forget how to act #or is this what having a friend who is a male is like #when i started at the store people were like 'you're baby'#and i've learned to really lean into it i'm tryna be sexy and desirable here idk if it's working #brett

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snowballseal · 5 months ago

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How they react to you feeling insecure (LaDS)

Summary: How the Love and Deepspace boys react to you feeling insecure about various things. Includes Rafayel, Sylus, Zayne, and Xavier. Lots of fluff.

Word Count: they're all around 1000 roughly

Note: Warnings of different kinds of insecurity, ranging from physical to mental. I'm not sure of how well the Xavier one turned out, he's harder for me to write, but I couldn't leave him out!!! Anyways, hope yall enjoy!

Rafayel

His ended up being a lot longer, so it's posted separately.

here

Sylus

Being partners with Sylus is a…daunting position to be in.

You always considered yourself a fairly average person, more focused on who you are than what you look like. It’s not that you don’t like the way you look - you do - and you don’t like comparing yourself to anyone, but you don’t plan on being a model anytime soon. And there’s nothing wrong with that.

Then you met Sylus, a man who looks like he was carved from the marble of ancient architecture. He could stand in a room of masterpieces and people would still look at him instead of the art. And since you’re by his side now, that means they’re also looking at you.

Being stared down by wanderers in one thing. Being stared down by the most powerful and prevalent members of the N109 Zone? You hate to admit that it gets to you. In fact, it gets so under your skin, that even when you’re dressed in the most extravagant dresses and decadent jewelry, you can’t help but feel…insecure.

Twisting in front of the mirror, you eye every detail of the dress Sylus bought you. It’s perfect, of course. The man has an annoying knack for getting you the most beautiful things and knowing exactly what fits you. The color compliments your hair and it’s comfortable to boot.

Still. You can’t help but feel like a kid trying to fit in at the adults table, wearing your mother’s heels even though they don’t fit. A bit ridiculous.

“Do you not like it?” Sylus appears behind you, dressed in a matching, lavish suit.

You jump a little, eyes flicking up to meet his in the mirror. His eyes burn into you, reading the hesitation on your face as you curl your arms around your stomach. There’s no fiery retort or witty comment like usual. You just look back at your dress, the tips of your ears tinging pink.

A frown pulls at Sylus’ lips, his voice softening, “What’s wrong?”

“...Do you really think people believe us? That we’re together?” You ask quietly, shuffling your weight back and forth. “That I’m a good match for you?”

You’re keenly aware that you’ve never had a conversation like this with Sylus. For the most part your relationship has been filled with teasing and playful bickering. It’s always light. Or about work. This is new, and while you trust him more than anything, you hate not knowing how he will react.

Sylus hums, low and thoughtful, as he curls his arms around you, “Does it matter to you what others think?”

You let out a sigh, leaning back into his touch thankfully. You want to say no. You want to keep up the air of confidence, but that quiet voice of doubt keeps worming its way through your thoughts.

“I just…I feel like I’m not what people expect. And…” you try to explain, hesitating. Sylus presses a kiss to your shoulder, offering a hum of encouragement. Taking a deep breath, you add, “It bothers me. It feels like I’m being forced into the spotlight but I’m not meant to be there. Like I don’t fit.”

“Hmm, so you feel like an odd duckling.” You give him a small jab, and Sylus chuckles. “My apologies. I think you misunderstand the attention though.” He pulls you closer. You shiver as his lips trace along the crook of your shoulder, pressing delicate kisses up the side of your neck, until he can murmur lowly into your ear, “You’re too humble, kitten. When you walk into a room, all eyes turn to you, not out of judgment, but out of jealousy. Afterall, you’ve tamed the leader of Onychinus. Even if you walked in with your uniform, they’d look at you the same. And I get the pleasure of walking around with the most powerful-” He presses his lips to your jaw. “-beautiful-” His lips trace against your cheek. “-woman of Linkon City. Don’t let the attention of those lesser than you make you doubt, otherwise I might have to find another way to show them just how well we fit together.”

Sylus’ eyes catch yours in the mirror again. They’re dark, like coals surrounded by flickering cinders. So intense you can almost feel the flames licking along your skin. There’s not a doubt in your mind that he’s being genuine. And that sets your heart racing. Along with the way he holds you so close, equal parts possessive and reverent. Like worship.

“Your devotion might scare some people, Sylus,” you whisper, glancing sideways at him.

He flashes a dangerous smile, “Does it scare you?”

You cast one final glance at your reflections before turning around in his hold and curling your arms around his neck. Sylus raises a challenging brow.

“I’m not. I like how you stand up for me, even when it’s against my own insecurities.” You draw him down, pressing a kiss to that carnal smile. Sylus softens immediately, cupping your jaw to draw you into a deeper kiss. The warmth that simmers in each and every touch leaves you a little breathless when you pull away. Pressing against his chest before he can drag you in again, you make sure to say one last thing, “Thank you, Sylus. I’ll make sure to remember all of that…especially the part about you being wrapped around my finger.”

“Hmm, such a cruel mistress, indeed.”

“And you love me.”

A chuckle rumbles through his chest, “Yes, I do. So, will you accompany me to this auction now?”

---

Zayne

“Are you sure it’s okay that I’m going?” You ask, voice wavering with nerves as you straighten Zayne’s tie for him.

“Isn’t it natural to bring one’s partner to these kinds of events?” He tilts his head, brow perked ever so slightly.

You nod, but can’t seem to erase the frown on your lips.

A week ago, Zayne had asked if you would accompany him to his medical school’s class reunion banquet. He had been asked to give a special word, given the reputation he had developed in his time at Akso Hospital, not to mention winning the Starcatcher Award for his work.

At first, you were ecstatic to have an opportunity to learn more about his old life. He has such a thing about living in the present, you hardly get to hear any stories about his time in med school, or when he was doing rotations at the hospital. You were eager to meet the people who he used to spend time with and hopefully catch a few stories you could tease him with later.

But as the night drew closer, you started actually thinking about all the people you would be around, all of whom graduated from the same medical program Zayne did. You can only imagine how smart they all are. And how you’ll get lost the moment any medical jargon comes up.

The more you think about it, the more nerves you feel buzzing under your skin. You know you’re not the smartest, not compared to Zayne at least. He’s a genius, after all, and could probably outsmart most anyone. You’ve always been better at the physical stuff. That’s what makes you such a good pair.

It’s not like you can impress everyone by whipping your gun out and fighting, though. All you’ll have are your words, and you’re not particularly good with those…

You blink when a large hand suddenly circles your wrist. Glancing up, you find Zayne looking down at you, brows furrowed ever so slightly.

“While I appreciate your attention to detail, I believe you’ve been straightening my tie for five minutes now.” Heat creeps up your neck. You hadn’t even realized you had been lost in thought. Zayne’s eyes narrow inquisitively. “What are you thinking about that has your mind so preoccupied?”

His thumb brushes casually along the inside of your wrist, not so subtly checking your pulse. A strangely endearing habit of his when he’s worried about you. You let out a long sigh and hide your face against his chest, feeling the heat bleed across your cheeks.

How are you supposed to tell him that you’re insecure about how smart all his friends must be?

Zayne doesn’t push right away. He knows you’ll explain when you want to, and if you don’t, then he knows you’re not ready to. It was an unspoken rule between you, something you started with him because you noticed he likes to think his words out. It felt natural to offer you the same when you struggle to express yourself. Like now.

Ultimately, you figure it’s better to just be straightforward. That’s how he would do it, and it’s better than dancing around the subject.

“I guess I’m nervous because I feel like I’m going to be the dumbest person in the room tonight,” you mutter against his coat. Your fingers tap out an anxious beat against his abdomen. “It’s silly and I know it shouldn’t matter, but I just don’t want to make you look bad.”

Zayne remains quiet for a long minute. Your fingers move a little quicker, matching the stuttering rhythm of your heart. His hand slides up, gently trapping them against his body.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“Physical tics are a common result of anxiety,” he hums dismissively, thumb smoothing over your knuckles. “As is your rapid heart rate. This truly bothers you.”

“Of course it does,” you sigh, a bit exasperated, ”You’ve worked hard to get where you are, Zayne. I love you so much, and I respect your work more than anything. I don’t, I don’t want to say something stupid and have it reflect on you badly.”

The doctor clicks his tongue, “First, I would prefer if you stop using that language to describe yourself.”

Your heart falters when his cool fingers touch your cheek, drawing your face up to his. He looks upset, but not exactly at you, the sharp line of his jaw contrasting with the softness of his eyes. Like it pains him that you think this way. Which it does.

“Those words don’t suit you. I wouldn’t allow another to call you them, so why would I allow you to?” He asserts, the corner of his lips twitching with distaste. “I don’t want to hear them again, do you understand?”

“Okay.” A thread of warmth curls around your heart when Zayne nods approvingly. His protectiveness really knows no bounds.

“Second, I do not agree with your diagnosis.”

Your brow furrows a little. What? What does he mean, he disagrees? He’s literally surrounded by geniuses, you can’t match up to any of them if they’re anything like him.

Seeing you start to overthink, Zayne shakes his head and gently pinches your cheek. You jolt back a little. The corners of his eyes crinkle, making you pout.

“Meanie,” you grumble, “Fine, explain your reasoning, Doctor Zayne.”

“It’s simple. Intelligence is made up of more than just academic knowledge, which, I assume, is what you are thinking of when you make such comments.” You nod. He’s not wrong about that, you guess. “Intelligence also includes the knowledge of how to use one’s strengths to achieve the best outcome. It is true that for some, this means using academic reasoning. However, it also includes those who develop the skills and discipline to maintain their bodies and fight for those who can’t, like…”

He pauses and gives you an expectant look.

“...me,” you finish slowly.

“Yes,” he hums, stroking the redness of your cheek, “I believe, under these standards, you are far more intelligent than most of the people you will meet tonight, darling. Though there is no comparison in the first place.”

His words sink in slowly but surely, filling in the cracks of your doubt. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he probably has some kind of healing magic, because you can already feel the burden of your insecurities melting away.

Leave it to Zayne to know exactly what to say, but in the most complex sounding way.

“You always know how to make me feel better, huh?” You ask, finally cracking that smile he loves.

“I am simply telling you the truth.” Zayne leans down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “There is not a lifetime in which my reputation will be more important than you. I would gladly throw it all away if it meant reminding you of that.”

You snort, “Don’t do that, please. I can only imagine the fit Doctor Greyson would throw. He’d be so mad at me.”

“I can handle Doctor Greyson, in the same way I can handle everyone tonight.” He slips his fingers between yours, bringing your hand up to kiss your knuckles. You wiggle your fingers happily and Zayne can’t help but grin to himself. “If at any point you find yourself uncomfortable, just stay by my side and I will act as your distraction. Though, I’m sure they will all love you, just as I do.”

“...Thank you, Zayne.”

“Of course, my jasmine.”

---

Xavier

Working with Xavier is a blessing, as much as it is a curse. You couldn’t ask for a better partner. Someone who you know will always have your back, who can handle himself completely, who is probably the most talented hunter you’ve ever met in your entire life. He’s undeniably amazing.

On the flip side of that, though, you often fall into the trap of thinking about how he deserves better. Wondering if, maybe, the only reason he chose to stay with you was because of the aether core in your heart. If that’s also the reason you’re in a relationship now…

And some days, these thoughts win out over the rest. Like today.

“What’s wrong?”

You blink, eyes flickering up from the bowl of ramen in front of you. Early on, you had started a tradition of eating a meal together after a successful mission, to just enjoy the peace of your home and each other. But today, you weren’t feeling that hungry, just…tired.

Xavier tilts his head, concern furrowing his brow - he noticed your mood start to shift days before, but didn’t want to push since you didn’t seem to notice it yourself. Now, though, it’s too obvious for him to ignore.

“I’m fine,” you sigh, flicking your chopsticks back and forth to watch the noodles swirl around in the broth, a small frown capturing your lips. It’s a horribly obvious lie.

“Is it something I did?” His voice isn’t accusatory or upset. It’s just a rational question to help him figure out what’s wrong. Still, you feel guilt tug at your chest, and you set the chopsticks down with another sigh.

You don’t want him to think that. You’d never blame Xavier for something like this. That would be like asking him to be a worse person, which is stupid. It’s just you. Your problem. Dragging him into it will only make you feel worse.

“No, Xavier, you didn’t do anything, promise. I’m not upset…with you.”

“But you are upset.”

Chancing a glance up at him proves a bad idea, making it all that more difficult to keep your thoughts quiet. Behind his normal sleepy expression, worry gleams in the deep blue of his eyes, unyielding and undeniably calm, like waves lapping gently at the beach.

The sight makes your heart ache and the words are tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop them, “Do you think I’m actually a suitable partner for you?”

Surprise flickers across the hunter’s face. Of all the things he was expecting you to say, that wasn’t even on the list. He doesn’t laugh though, or take your question lightly.

“Do you mean, as a hunting partner? Or as a romantic partner?”

You shift uncomfortably, eyes falling back to your ramen, “I don’t know. Both, I guess?”

He hums softly. You try to ignore the nerves fluttering in your chest as Xavier gets up, watching him out of the corner of your eye as he circles the table to stand next to you. The hunter drips his head, catching your gaze.

“May I see your hand?”

A small frown pulls at your lips, not exactly sure where he’s going with this, but you offer him your hand anyways. Xavier takes your wrist, touch featherlight, and moves it so your hand is held up flat, facing him. Your brow furrows.

“Xav-”

“Look.”

Pursing your lips, you let out a little huff. He really hates giving direct answers, doesn’t he? Still, you’re in no place to really judge him, or expect anything for that matter. He’s always been a bit of a mystery to you.

You watch as Xavier places his hand against yours. His palm is warm and you can feel the calluses from who knows how many years of hunting. Your hand looks tiny in comparison, his pale, delicate fingers long enough to curl over your own a little. The sight makes your heart squeeze, fondness competing with the feeling of being so…small.

“They’re pretty different,” Xavier hums, voice still calm, his own eyes fixed on your hands. “Your fingers are always cold, and your hands are small. You have a scar here.” His free hand grazes the side of your palm, along your pinky. “And here” He traces another along your knuckle. Your breath falters at the tenderness behind his touch, like you’re delicate porcelain. “Mine are in different places. Yours are skilled at weaving silk balls and mine can…open jars.”

You snort. Xavier’s eyes dart up to yours, sparkling with humor, a brow raised. You try to smother your laughter, rather ineffectively, and motion for him to continue.

“They’re different, but-” His fingers spread apart, and you mimic him instinctually, only for his fingers to slot between yours in one fluid motion. You inhale softly, laughter dying in your throat. It’s like two puzzle pieces fitting together, a perfect embrace that washes over you with a comforting warmth.

Xavier watches you, keenly aware of the way you squeeze his hand tightly, desperately, like you’re worried it might disappear. He gives yours a tender squeeze in return, thumb brushing over your knuckle.

“I think they’re a suitable match. Don’t you?”

God, how could you go without this man? The worries that have been pricking at the back of your mind all week seem to melt away. It leaves you with that warmth, the kind that only comes from Xavier, that he offers you over and over again.

You give his hand another squeeze, finally smiling, “Yah. I do…Thanks, Xavier.”

The hunter leans down, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. You can feel his lips brush against your skin as he murmurs, “Let me know if you ever feel this way again, angel. I’ll be more than glad to remind you.”

“I will.”

---

This was really fun to write!!! I really hope you guys like it! There are so many freaking tags on this puppy.

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starcurtain · 2 months ago

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Teyvat's "Most Down Bad" Award Goes to Alhaitham for a Second Year Running

Seeing everyone making fun of Alhaitham for his "stalkerish" tendencies in this event is funny, because I feel like a lot of people missed that "Be literally everywhere Kaveh is" has been Alhaitham's MO from the day Kaveh appeared in the game.

From only grabbing his house keys after Kaveh returned from the desert (he couldn't have had both sets of keys at the end of the Archon Quest unless he went home and got Kaveh's copy) to ditching conversations to get back to his house only after Kaveh came home, to showing up without any warning or explanation in Kaveh's hangout with some ridiculous excuse about hearing his voice through noise-cancelling headphones... Refusing to offer any help in the Temple of Silence story quest other than staying in the library with Kaveh...

Since when does Alhaitham willingly cover anyone else's duties?

But this trend of "Be everywhere Kaveh is" didn't start when they were adults. It was already in place when they were still Akademiya students--and it's a trend that didn't end even when they had their fight.

Even when they weren't speaking, Alhaitham dogged Kaveh's every step through published responses to Kaveh's research articles in academic journals. He insisted on keeping a line of communication between himself and Kaveh open, even if the only way to do that was through very public ideological clashes. Pulling Kaveh's pigtails to get his attention lolol. It's implied that, for at least the few years between their fight and Kaveh moving in, this was the only communication between them--Alhaitham's refusal to allow their connection to entirely fade away. (And the fact that this is revealed in Kaveh's character stories--through his precious journal that records the moments of his life that had the most impact on him--shows just how deeply he values the fact that Alhaitham didn't give up.)

Another relevant side note: Alhaitham never asked Kaveh to give up his half of their house. Knowing half of it belonged to Kaveh, knowing that Kaveh may one day want to reclaim his part of it, knowing that it was listed as theirs, Alhaitham moved into the house and made zero effort to change its ownership. He was completely fine with living in "his and Kaveh's house." The stories suggest it was only months later (or even longer) that Kaveh even noticed he had the house, and he transferred away ownership of his portion without Alhaitham ever asking him (or even seemingly wanting him) to do so.

Please, let that sink in. Alhaitham actively left his grandmother's (presumably comfortable) house to move into "his and Kaveh's house," with no apparent explanation for why, and after doing so, he made no attempt to change that "his and Kaveh's" label. He moved into the house with no promise that Kaveh wouldn't show up on the doorstep the very next day and move in too. It almost feels like another deliberate provocation--I've moved into our house, are you going to come stop me? LBR, if Alhaitham had had his way, Kaveh would have been living there with him from Day 1...

There's also the fact that Kaveh literally can't write on a single message board anywhere in the entire nation of Sumeru without Alhaitham hunting his messages down and responding to them (which absolutely no one else does, by the way).

"NUH-UH!" "UH-HUH." "NUH-UH!"

Alhaitham's own character stories tell us explicitly that one of Alhaitham's defining character traits is "He is never where you need him to be," yet somehow...

Shot, and chaser:

Any time Kaveh is in the slightest bit of need or danger or just wants Alhaitham near, Alhaitham is "coincidentally" exactly where Kaveh needs him to be, whenever Kaveh needs him to be there.

Alhaitham didn't just "happen" to run into Kaveh in Port Ormos, an entirely different city from where he was supposed to be working. He didn't just "happen" to read the same terrible book as Kaveh when we know he otherwise would not waste a moment of his time on poorly-written literature...

He didn't just "happen" to appear when Kaveh was upset and needed a distraction in the House of Daena during Kaveh's hangout. He didn't just "happen" to be sitting around waiting when Kaveh needed answers after the Archon Quest. He didn't just "happen" to find Kaveh's academic publications and every single message board posting and respond to them at length and in public.

Which is exactly what Kaveh's mother told Kaveh he needed.

What level of down bad is "Abusing your powers as an Akademiya employee to keep tabs on your crush's library loans"? Just asking for a friend.

The only person for whom Alhaitham just "happens" to be available is Kaveh, over and over and over again--because he is very deliberately making himself a constant presence in Kaveh's life.

(Like, out of all things, I think people really underestimate the devs deliberately paralleling the romantic relationship between Kaveh's mother and father with Kaveh and Alhaitham's relationship. If you want to point to one thing that says "These two characters are intentionally queer-coded," it doesn't get any more obvious than this.)

Alhaitham, are you not embarrassed to be this transparent??? 🫣

#genshin impact #haikaveh #kavetham #alhaitham #kaveh #I wasn't even looking for half these screencaps #I was just scrolling through the content and “Oops; there's another one”#imagine thinking it's a “coincidence” to run into someone in a desert that stretches hundreds to thousands of miles #I say this in the most positive way possible #but I think Alhaitham might actually need an intervention #bro is reading PULP FICTION for a man #checking the message boards daily for updates from a dude he already lives with #skipping work to do favors for his favorite #I would say his Kaveh hyper-focus is impacting his quality of life #but Kaveh IS his quality of life so...#do you think the merchants in the market are getting savvy #when they see Alhaitham coming they're just like #“Oh Mister Alhaitham! Mister Kaveh was really admiring this painting the last time he came through--”#how many times do you think Alhaitham's brought home new foods only to never buy them again because Kaveh didn't like them?#we could end world deforestation with Alhaitham's pining alone

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