#i love him so much and i feel like a terrible person | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

burdenandacrop · 2 days ago

Note

i need a fic with schlatt or ted (or both (separately)) obsessing over the reader’s tits. like, tongue in there, kisses, squeezing, the sorts.

- angel 💙🪽

˗ˏˋ ❝ developed a taste for you. ❞ ˎˊ˗

oh delicious, delicious, de-LISH. this is rather detailed so i hope you enjoy ! :> i'm honestly so happy someone requested ted, i go guh guh guh over that man.

summary : this is pretty much just straight to the point, not really a plot. giving the entree to you personally.

⋮ ⌗ ┆body worship, INTENSE praising, breeding kink??, a bit- messy??, more subby than anything, fem reader.

schlatt

the night was only growing older, but in his eyes; it couldn't last long enough for his liking. the two of you lazily laid on the bed as the haze of the television purred, your attention more focused on whatever broadcast was playing. his eyes stuck on how your gaze was transfixed on the screen, then slowly down to how your arms were gently crossed. coincidentally, giving him the perfect view of one of his favorite parts of you. the cherry on top being the fact that you were wearing one of his shirts. that thin athletic material was doing you justice, he felt like if he looked long enough he would feel a pool of drool spill onto his lap. it was pathetic but it was a perfect display of just how enamored he was by you.

"this isn't boring to you?" he spoke out, interrupting the silence between the two of you. you cocked your head over to his direction to see the sight of him leaned against the headboard, you knew exactly what lied under the tone of his words. "it's late night tv- what? is it boring to you?" you reply, gently adjusting yourself to face him more. the sudden movement causing a slight ripple to occur with your chest, and it was obvious where schlatt's eyes were wandering. "not what i asked." he muttered, his eyes trailing from your chest back to your face. his tongue slyly fiddling inside his mouth, as if he was trying to manifest the taste of you. he was awfully terrible of hiding how he felt. especially when it entailed when he needed you. every part of you.

"you're not making a lot of sense tonight, are you?" you softly giggle out, the clear message from him hitting you in the face. he didn't care about the stupid broadcast, he was wasted on the thought of you. something that still kept you confused, as to how he was still so caught up with the idea of you. "just thought you'd need something more- what is it." he states, clicking his tongue as he ponders on what to say, his eyes failing him as he eyes your shirt's fabric perfectly creasing with your cleavage. "entertaining. yeah, that." he finishes, letting out a quiet sigh as he tried his best to get a hold of himself. not that he really wanted to anyhow. he knew he was making himself obvious. he wanted it that way.

you drop your shoulders with a sigh that was a silent motion of giving in. your arms relaxing against the fluffy pillows, only giving schlatt a much clearer view of what he so desperately craved for. you softly grinned as you saw him shake his head, looking back up into your eyes with a knowing look. "what's your idea of that?" you chuckle out, only sending him further off the edge. he knew you knew exactly what he wanted to do. you saw how his face gently scrunched from the irritation, "oh please don't play that card tonight, baby." he pleaded, before pushing himself closer to you, softly pressing his lips onto the crook of your neck. the sudden gesture making your needy whimpers escape. "not tonight." he whispered into your neck as his lips continued to place deep kisses along your sweet spots over and over.

he quickly found his left hand groping along the cup of your breast. gently groaning as he felt the weight of it in his palm, his thumb swirling around your nipple. loving how quickly he could feel the bud growing harder under his touch. how excited he could get you, with little to no effort. he was going to put some effort into his work, especially tonight. he really couldn't understand what his deal was tonight, but it felt like he'd never done this before. as if it was a delicacy he was just now granted, all just for him. his right hand began tugging up the shirt, letting his hand roam along your soft skin. the delicate feeling under his fingertips was enough to drive him absolutely crazy. he pulled his lips off of your neck and looked down to the sight of your chest.

he let his hands pull up the shirt as his eyes were stuck on the enveloping scene in front of him, the second your breasts popped out; he was done for. quickly cupping his hands around them and leaning down to latch his lips around the left one. the sudden motion making you fall back, only exciting him further. his low growls escaping his muffled lips as he sucked down, his hands wrapped on the side of your waist as he continued. he loved how your body contorted as he touched you, how you became human clay for him to mold. his fingertips pressed down into your skin as he circled his tongue on your sensitive bud, making sure to keep you in place as he explored every nerve ending. "god, you're perfect." he muffled out as he continued his pacing.

you felt your stomach flip as he said that, he was always treating you as some other worldly being. something you still had to adjust to. your neck crooked back as he continued, hungry and desperate for anything from him. the second he felt your body start to move, his fingertips were quick to hold you down. as if he wanted you to just sit through this and take in every last shock. in which he absolutely did. "you don't even have to-" he groans out as he trips on his own words as he keeps his other hand gripping your free breast. "you don't even have to do anything." he grunted, you looked down to the sight. seeing how knitted his eyebrows were, his eyes shut as he focused so intensely on how he wanted to worship you in this way. it was utter perfection.

his grip on your breast became increasingly stronger, his other hand roaming along your side to keep you steady. "so full." he choked out before peeling his lips off, a long line of saliva connecting his lips from your breast. "fuck." he sighs out, looking back up to you with his warm brown eyes. you knew exactly what that look was. what underlies under the sweet nature of it. he kept his hand on your other one, letting his hand sprawl out so he could get a good handle of it. watching as it moved with him, the weight of it making him want to just pass out right then and there. "need to knock you up just so i can watch em' get bigger." he mumbles out, the desperation growing in his voice. you were honestly too stunned to speak with such a statement from him. you saw how his eyes slowly blinked as he eyed the wet spot on your nipple, aching to just latch right back on.

with that one look, that's all he needed. the longer he looked, the better it was. he took his two hands and pressed his thumbs into each nipple before rubbing gently along the sensitive buds of them, circling his hands to make them bounce right in front of his eyes. the sight was only making things worse, he was even turned on by the veins showing through your skin. in fact, he loved when he noticed you had a new one he could see. just meant that they were getting bigger. more for him to play around with, it was evident he was always going to be a tits guy. "fuck- could you imagine?" he muttered out once more, almost stuck in a haze from how beautiful he found you. even if it was just this one part of you, you knew you weren't going to find another who would eye you like you were some sort of art piece.

he took a soft gulp as he realized the sight was genuinely making him salivate, a bit embarrassed at the fact but who cares. he loved his lady. "might need to make that happen." he whispered as he continued pressing his thumbs into your nipples, loving how you were still so sensitive to the touch. a sly grin growing on his lips as he saw how ready you were. "this is about you, baby." he groans out before pushing your breasts together to slick his tongue between. the warmth making his entire head spin, his eyes closing as he began to lose control of his senses. every little thing was you now. how soft you were. your scent. your porn worthy noises. he was absolutely whipped in the best way possible. "all about you." he groaned out before latching his tongue back onto your left breast, lapping his tongue over and over.

the feeling was beginning to feel a little overstimulating, he could tell as well with the whimpers you were making. he just kept licking the right spot that made you jolt, to the point it could drive you numb. "everything." he muffled through the desperate kisses on you. he shook his head as he continued, "beautiful." it was catching up to you quickly with a feeling you didn't even know you could possess. a sharp inhale shooting from your lips as you felt the shock run through your body. your eyes widening as you realized on what the possible feeling was, schlatt's face poking back up to look at your somewhat distraught look. "thought those were a myth, didn't you?" he snickered out, making you sigh and poke his shoulder with a defeated expression. "you watch too much porn." you mutter softly with a groan. "seems like it came in handy." he said with a shrug. he was such a smart ass, but you'd be lying to yourself if you said you hated any bit of it.

ted

it was another excruciatingly hot day in LA, who's shocked? at least ted's apartment had decent AC. not good enough to the point you could wear normal clothes though. you had been sitting on his couch in nothing but your basketball shorts from high school and a shirt that didn't make you profusely sweat from the fabric. somehow. you knew ted was supposed to get back to his place sometime soon, or at least he said he would. you knew deep down it was silly to just be sitting here when the two of you were basically just good friends who fucked occasionally. heavy on occasionally too, he couldn't get a hint even if it hit him. you could throw yourself at him and he'd think it was some sort of bit.

now the times he actually got the hint? that was a different story. the secrecy of it all also got you going, considering he was quite- the popular one. to put it in a nice way. hot nerds get a lot of play, okay? you just knew if your friends knew you were smothered by the heat on his couch patiently waiting for him to come back, you'd have a humiliation trial done on you. in which the heat was really about to get the best of you. your eyes wandered over at the numerous quirky wall pieces he had, seeing a small framed photo that looked oddly familiar. your eyes squinting to attempt to make it seem clearer. that effort not working, you rose off the couch and slowly walked over to it. your eyebrows knitted as the realization began to strike you right then and there.

a little polaroid perfect encased in a frame, the two of you. honestly, you assumed he just threw it away. considering it was taken on a night where you had too many cocktails and became a mess of a person. he didn't though. instead, left it on display right in his hallway. a small smile appeared on your lips as you noticed the dark pink kiss mark on the side of his face in the polaroid. did any of it have some sort of meaning? were you looking too far into it? he had plenty of female friends, he probably had numerous photos with his other friends pinned to his walls. your eyes roamed the walls to try and track down any other ones. a wave of ice ran through your body as it hit you. you were the only photo he had on the wall besides the nature or nerd posters. that felt weird. some part of you just wanted to toss the fact to the back of your head.

you brought yourself closer to the framed polaroid, as if you were trying to investigate every little pixel of the photo. maybe there was something hidden behind it, maybe if you just looked close enough. your eyes transfixed on the glass before you realized there was a large fingerprint right where your face was. you couldn't see it unless you moved your head to let the light hit the glass. was the fingerprint his? if so, why would he be ... poking? it? such a stupid small picture was arising so many questions in your head. maybe it was the heat exhaustion, praying that was the outcome of your endless thoughts. right as you were almost booping noses with the glass of the frame, you heard the sound of the front door's locks being jingled. your head whipping around to be met with a sweaty ted, who was wearing a very ill fitting tank top.

"you actually waited up for me?" he chuckled out, as he wiped his face afterwards. quickly shutting the door behind him and fixing the locks, it was LA after all. you were somewhat stuck between speaking and silence. you didn't know which was the right answer. on one hand, you felt like a loser for waiting so long just to see him. then there was the other feeling of just wanting to run into his arms. you couldn't decipher what that collision was. "your ac is better." you stifled out, immediately palming your face internally. what kind of response was that? what has that stupid polaroid done to you? even the stupider fingerprint. he also looked somewhat perplexed on your answer. running a hand through his sweat filled hair, you could see how his pomade was beginning to fail him. those perfect little strands falling on his forehead, he really was a pretty one.

"thought you said my apartment sucks?" he sneered out with a grin, walking over to you and eyeing where you were standing. beginning to think to himself, why on earth were you just looking at his wall art? you tongue your teeth as you ponder on how to back yourself up, "change of heart." you say with a shrug, fully turning your body to him with a weakened grin. "you're so fucking weird." he chuckled out before standing right in front of you, you really couldn't ever get tired of that sight. especially with how he looked right now. his freckled shoulders with the sun-kissed tone. how you could see how dark his eyelashes were from how sweaty he was. really was a sight to behold. "you hang out with me, so what does that say about you?" you shoot back, making him force a pained expression sarcastically. closing his eyes tightly to be dramatic with a wince, "mean too..." sneakily opening up one eye to peek at you with a chuckle before shaking off his expression. "anyways, i gotta hop in the shower." he adds on.

with that, it was as if something overtook you. not exactly sure as to what it was. but you were thinking about him. all day. now seeing all of this in front of you, it was basically a gift. "wait-" you choke out, a bit too dramatically for your own taste but. whatever. he looked to you with a hint of confusion, but also curiosity. "what's with um." you sigh and point over to the polaroid, and look back to him and stick your hands in your pockets to appear more on ease. even if you were the complete opposite. "the uh. picture." you end with, clearing your throat. his eyebrow tilted up and looked to the polaroid, "nice night." he sighed out, his tone a bit more softer. which was surprising considering how he normally spoke. "you didn't notice the gundam poster? just that?" he snickered out, going right back to his normal personality.

"yeah. i saw the- all the nerd shit." you mutter softly, a bit defeated with his reply. you wanted something more. just something to explain the weird gut feeling you had. "i think it's a nice set up." he replied rather quickly, as if he was trying to convince himself of something. you just couldn't tell yet. "you fit well with all my other favorite things so." he adds on hesitantly, looking into your eyes with a slight grin. hoping to anything that could hear him that he wasn't sounding stupid in this moment. you felt the weight lift off of you, as if it was some burden stuck in your chest. without a second thought, you rose your hand to his bicep. just letting it rest there, watching as his eyes followed your hands. suddenly, a quiet beeping could be heard. you cocked a brow as you looked around the room to find out where it was located. ted quickly looked down in embarrassment to his apple watch and smacked it quiet.

your hand left his bicep before you looked back into his eyes with confusion, "what was that?" you question him. he nervously chuckled and shook his head as he tapped his apple watch's screen off. "just- stupid glitch." he stifled out, waving his arm back down to his side. you slowly nod and narrow your eyes at him, not really understanding quite what the hell that could've been. what if it was some other girl trying to get a hold of him? that was the last thing you wanted to know right now. especially in this moment. "well, get it fixed." you state as you raise your hand to rest on his bicep again. you didn't know how to send the right signal, so you were hoping this was gonna do the job. he looked down at you with a grin, his eyes softening as he watched your expression.

then, there it was again. the beeping. now the creeping thought of another girl trying to reach him was settling further into your brain. it had to have been. you remove your hand once again and look down to his watch, but before you could get a good view of what it was. ted quickly pulled it away, tapping away the beeping. "seriously, what is that?" you questioned further. ted's face only growing more nervous, shaking the watch on his wrist. "it's just being stupid." he stammered out, but as he brought up the watch. the screen lit up again. you finally saw what it was. "why is your heart bpm 102?" you ask with concern, which quickly made him pull away his hand and back to his side. "i worked out, remember?" he nervously chuckled out. hoping you'd buy it.

you didn't. you knew there was something hidden under his tongue. you look to him in silence for a moment and look to his arm and back to his eyes. contemplating on what your next plan of action would be. you quickly raise your hand back up and let it rest on his collarbone, immediately feeling as his chest tightened. "you're being silly, yknow tha-" ted tries to explain, but is interrupted by his watch. yet again. your eyes widen and look down to his watch, his heart rate was through the roof. "shit." he sighs out, tapping away the incessant beeping. he knew was in deep shit now, he couldn't play the nonchalant card any longer. you eyed him as you could see the embarrassment filling his face. "stupid watch." he says before sliding it off with a groan. immediately reaching his hands on either side of your head and pushing his lips onto yours. making your balance falter, causing the two of you to crash onto the wall as he hungrily kissed you.

it happened so quickly. what was in the air today? was it his workout? all you knew in this moment was how sweet he tasted, oddly enough. he pulled his lips off of yours, still keeping his hands wrapped on both sides of your head to keep you tightly in his grasp. "this what you wanted?" he breathily stated, his fast movements catching up to him. "you knew that already." you choke out, lightly licking the moisture off your lips. "and you didn't know you made my heart do that by now? bullshit." he stifled out before mashing his lips onto the crook of your neck, dropping his hands down to your breasts. giving them a tight squeeze as he bit down gently on your neck. "keep coming around me and i might have a heart attack." he groans as he muffles through your skin. as odd as the sentence, it kind of made the goosebumps on your skin raise. you had that effect on him?

you closed your eyes due to the ecstasy, quickly wrapping your hands to his back to pull him in closer. you guys have slept together a couple times but something about this felt so different. as if there was hunger bridled into it. you backed your head into the wall, feeling the soft canvas of a painting on the back of your head. hoping you wouldn't cause anything to fall, especially the polaroid. he was quick to pull up your shirt, itching to feel how your skin felt under his hands. the second he knew your skin was exposed he dropped to one knee to better focus his lips on the area. the size difference was making you ready to just pass out. his hands roaming on your hips to stabilize himself better, his soft lips landing on your breasts as he smothered them with deep sloppy kisses. you moved your hand to your shirt to just throw it off, giving him a full view of what he desperately wanted.

"can't believe you trash this." he groans into your skin, letting his hands crawl up your skin to squeeze the bottom of your tits. getting a good handful before sucking down. the sudden shock throwing your balance off once again, but he was ready. grabbing your ass to keep you steady. it was almost annoying of how much he knew. how much he worked on 'perfecting his craft.' you suddenly felt his tongue slip up and all around your breast, sending a shock down your body. it was so messy but it was so worth it. seems it always was when it was him. "you waited here all day for this?" he stops himself to say, looking up into your eyes. "and be honest about it." he breathily states. you look down to him, a bit bummed that he stopped.

"i just want you." you reply, knowing just how pathetic you sounded in the moment. you could almost see his ego grow as you said it too, his stupid smile as he took it in. "glad you held your promise then." he chuckles before mashing his lips back to your breasts, licking up and around your nipple. "reasons why i have you on my favorites wall." he groans into your skin, gripping harder around the edges of your breast. every word he spoke made your spine shake, this was the answer you were pleading for. on top of the electricity he was putting into your body, this was all you could've ever begged for. you grabbed the edge of his chin to bring him up, making him trip and fall onto you. looking you into the eyes as he stabilized him by grabbing onto the wall, "just say it again." he practically whispered. "i just want you." you reply almost instantly, making him slyly grin. "i can arrange that." he chuckles out before mashing his lips back onto yours.

author's note : sorry for the small hiatus !! also holy shit i didn't know how different i write for ted. 😭 butttt !! i hope you enjoy, and i am pleased to tell you i am FINALLY back home and able to write to my hearts contents. gonna be working on submissions all night !! :> thank you all for the sweet messages and patience with lil ol me. you all are SEWWWW KIND !!!

#jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #jschlatt x y/n #schlatt x y/n #ted nivision x reader #ted nivision smut #jschlatt smut #fanfic #rpf

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star2fishmeg · 2 days ago

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ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ

Pairing | Luke Hughes x afab!reader Summary | (comfort angst, fluff) | all it took was a terrible headache for y/n to break and really tell Luke what was wrong, and he provides the best remedy Authors Note | please accept this blurb based on a dream caused by a criminal headache I had while I get through celly blurbs and my inbox🥺

The headache that’d haunted her all day only pounded worse, pain relief only doing so much to ease the aching. Luke felt useless, there was only so much he could do and taking the pain away was not one of them. All he could do was gently caress her thigh hooked over his legs and hold her to his chest, arm wound around her waist and providing a kiss on her forehead every now and then.

Her fingers traced feathery patterns over his skin, changing between his chest and following the ridges of his abs down to his v-line, feeling the heat that radiated off his body and embracing hers. They lay in silence, listening to breathing fall into sync and the video quietly playing from Luke’s phone and her brain worked overtime, the cogs turning and falling into the deepest pits of the human conscience, comments she’d read and heard emerging from her memory. The gossip pages, the media, other girlfriends and wives and maybe they were right. Maybe she wasn’t right for him; not mature enough, not established enough, not flexible enough and not pretty enough.

Wetness seeped onto his bare skin, and he closed his phone, placing it onto the sheets before cupping her cheek, “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothin’, head just hurts.” She slid her hand over his stomach, cuddling into him but his fingers took her jaw, tilting her head up to face him. Worry spread across his face, eyes widening softly, eyebrows pulling together slightly.

“Y/n…” he said concerned, “talk to me, what’s it you always tell me? We’re a team?”

She paused and sighed, “Jus’...sometimes the people are right, I don’t deserve you. You’re this big-time, hotshot hockey player and I have nothing to my name, jus’ some chick.”

His grip around her tightened and he let her face go, slowly pulling her on top of his body completely, with consideration to the pounding in her head. Luke never liked the media and knew it came with his career, but when it impacted the people he loved the most, then he had a personal problem with it. His jaw tensed when more tears spilt onto his chest silently.

“Oh, angel,” Luke’s hand settled on the back of her head tenderly, brushing loose strands of hair away from her face while his arm secured around her middle, “who said that? You know that’s not true-” “-but it just is, Lu. Not a thriving model, not a career woman, just y/n who still relies on her parents half the time. Getting a part-time job has been tragic and while you’re working your ass off out there, I’m just sitting around.” She sobbed, Luke’s stomach twisting and he kissed her head.

He’d never been confident in sharing how he felt, never being able to find the right words but with so much adrenaline and heartache running through his system, they seemed to fall off his tongue with a rawness to them.

“But you’re not just ‘some chick’. That’s why I love you. You’re y/n. You’re a student who’s graduating soon, in a field she enjoys and you’re literally only twenty. Just because you aren’t living a life someone else is, doesn’t make you any less of a person. I don’t care that you’re not a public figure or whatever. Actually, I like that you aren’t and wish we went to college together because that would’ve been cool, so many parties to make out at. My point is that you bring normality, and I don’t care if you have a job or not, I’m always gonna support you in everything because I love you.”

Y/n’s lip quivered, heart swelling as the sweet confession soaked into her ears. Typical Luke, even when he didn’t realise it, he always knew what to say. She pushed herself up onto her forearms, palms flat on his chest and his hands followed the curve of her spine up to her shoulder blades and down to her ass, soothingly with a small, comforting smile.

He cupped her cheek, using his thumb to wipe one of her eyes before she melted into his palm, “Thank you, I love you so much.”

She leant in, pressing a long and slow kiss to his lips, moaning when he groped her ass and giggling. He didn’t mind taking that extra breath if it meant he could listen to her giggle and light up again. Luke slid his hand to the back of her neck, goosebumps running along her skin, and he pulled her into another adoring kiss. A kiss worth a thousand more words, with warmth, a deep kiss with his mouth opening to invite her tongue to meet his and lick into her mouth. She was just y/n and Luke wouldn’t have had it any other way.

#≡lh43 #luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes blurb

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themuseofaphrodite · 3 days ago

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santa doesn’t know you like i do ✧ MV33

summary: it’s christmas eve, and your boyfriend, max verstappen — a notoriously bad gift giver — still has not told you what presents he had bought you. unbeknownst to you, however, he has found the wishlist you jokingly wrote to santa, and is planning a heartwarming surprise for his beloved.

trigger warnings: suggestive & mature content, swearing

word count: 1.1k

note: phrases and sentences in the dutch language are utilized throughout; keep a translator accessible

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Dear Santa, the letter began, I know that I’m almost twenty-three years old, so writing a letter to you is kind of foolish, but I still believe in the magic of Christmas, even if you aren’t real. This Christmas, I’m not really expecting much. My boyfriend, Max Verstappen, buys me anything I ask for, no matter what time of the year it is. He’s the best partner I could ask for. But the reason why I’m writing this letter is because he is clueless when he has to pick out gifts on his own, without my assistance.

So, before I go off on a tangent talking about how bad his solo gifts have been — do I have to mention the knitted red socks or lavender flavored gumballs? —, these are the things that I’m most looking forward to hopefully seeing under the Christmas tree.

A new set of lipsticks, because mine is really old and running out. I didn’t want to ask Max to buy me one, because I feel bad making him pay for anything.

The new rose gold spade necklace from Chanel. I saw it in a display case at the store in Monaco, and I was itching to purchase it. It’s really beautiful.

And last, but not least, a carton of Ferrero Rocher chocolates, the ones in the golden wrap and the crunchy nuts. My mouth is salivating just from thinking about it.

I know that there’s probably no point to writing this letter since you’re not exactly a living, breathing person, but a part of me hopes that your magic might help figure some of the kinks in Max’s terrible gift-giving skills out.

After writing the letter, you ended up throwing it away in the trash. It was such a waste of time, you thought. What in the world possessed you to do this? You were a busy woman, working for Red Bull as a PR manager. There was never a quiet moment. That was how you and Max had met: you were assigned to aid Liam Lawson in figuring out any media scandals, but as soon as Max had laid eyes on you, he’d immediately ordered Christian Horner to switch you to helping him out.

You were unsure of him, how aggressive and competitive he was. He wouldn’t shy away from direct confrontation, and that terrified you, since the idea of verbally arguing with someone made you nauseous. But so far, eight months into the relationship, you and Max had not had a single fight. He was loving, patient, and kind, willing to hear your side of the story every single time, even if he looked like he was about to flip a table. (This usually happened in PR meetings: you never argued outside of work.)

This would be your first Christmas together, and you were nervous. You knew what to get him: a new Red Bull team shirt and a pair of matching scarves that had colorful cats printed on it. It was purr-fect, and you knew that Max would — hopefully — love it.

Max entered the room, his steps hurried as he typed away on his phone and let out a big huff in frustration. You leaned against the wall, watching him as you sipped your chocolate-flavored boba tea. “Hey, is everything all good, mijn leeuw?” you asked, tacking on the Dutch pet name that fit your boyfriend perfectly. He was a lion, loud and courageous…especially in bed. Your cheeks heated at the thought.

Max looked up from his phone, his mouth a little open in confusion. “No, I’m OK, liefde. Just…fucking delivery people, not being on time.” Your eyebrow quirked, and Max shook his head. “And no, for the seventh time, I will not tell you what I’m getting you for Christmas. I know your birthday might’ve been bad, but I promise this time I’ll be good. Ik hou van je, schat.”

“Ik houd ook van jou,” you responded. “But I think I have every right to be concerned.”

Max rolled his eyes, walking over to where you were and placing one arm above your head, effectively locking you in place. “It will be fine. Don’t worry your pretty head about it, hm?” He grinned, kissing you on the forehead. “And if it does end up wrong, I’ll fuck you really well to make up for it.”

You blushed, averting your gaze away from him. “Max.”

“It’s true.” He released his hand from the wall, moving a dozen inches apart from your face. “Geloof me, lieverd.”

You bit your tongue and didn’t respond.

The next evening, also known as Christmas night, you and Max were preparing to open your presents. Your stomach was like a swarm of butterflies, you were so nervous to see what was in store for you under the tree. Max, however, was the epitome of ice-cold, his face betraying no hint as to what he may have purchased.

“Your turn first, engel.” Max motioned for you to select your first gift, and with shaky hands, you began to unpeel the small, square-shaped package. Finally unveiling it, you realized what it was: the rose gold spade Chanel necklace you’d been wanting for so long.

“Max! Oh my God, jij bent de beste!” you cried out, hugging him tightly and making him crack up in laughter. “How did you know?” you asked as you pulled away, but Max shrugged his shoulders.

“I just know things, liefde.” It was now Max’s turn to select his first gift, and he chose the nondescript package that held the colorful cat scarves in them. You suppressed a smile, watching as he carefully cut through the gift wrapping and sifted through the gift paper. His face broke out in a large smile, his blue eyes gleaming with happiness. “Cat scarves? This is adorable!”

“I hoped you would like it,” you said, beaming back at him. You shifted your position to pick up another gift; this time, it was heavy and rectangular. An inkling of suspicion wormed its way through you as you met Max’s gaze. “If this is what I think this is… Thank you.”

It was, in fact, a new set of lipsticks, just like you had written in your letter to Santa Claus. Somehow, Max must have found the letter and bought everything that you’d put on the list.

“You deserve it,” Max responded, pulling you close to him after you both had finished unwrapping the presents. “You’re the love of my life, Y/N. I owe you the world.”

You kissed his temple. “You’re the most incredible partner I could ever have.”

“Merry Christmas, hart van mij.”

Needless to say, you paid Max back for the thoughtful presents all night long. It was a Christmas you’d never forget, and you sent up a silent thanks to the magic of Santa Claus for having it all work out.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

#the muse of aphrodite fics #f1 #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one #f1 fic #max verstappen #mv33 #mv33 rb #mv33 x reader #christmas

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liketolaugh-writes · 18 hours ago

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I'm confused about how you read that entire exchange and apparently did not absorb it but I think you maybe need to watch Danny Phantom again.

Yes. I am aware of all of those mentalities. I am aware that a large portion of the DPxDC fandom wants Danny to expect Superman to be Kon's parent (because apparently parenthood is something that can be forced on you and God forbid you feel violated.) I am aware of where Danny gets the grudges that people invent for him (a character that does not hold grudges against anyone except Vlad.) I am aware that there are multiple Flashes and that Danny is equally happy to insult all of them (because talking back to authority is a thing that Danny does. Ever. In his canon.) And I am well aware of how much of the DPxDC fandom likes to portray the Justice League as a bunch of idiots, which... is also not consistent with any of their canons and just, again, comes down to the chip-in-the-shoulder a lot of people seem to carry for heroes these days.

None of that is what I'm addressing. Fandom is built on headcanons and expanded universe, and it's great to build those things! It's great for them to build extra backstory to meld the two universes together, to fill out Danny's kind of flimsy canon, to have Danny already have opinions based on that backstory. You can write all these things if you want. I understand that people enjoy them, and DPxDC has a particularly mutated fanon that people have built over years now. People love these stories!

The part that I am illustrating is that the manner in which it's usually carried out is extremely unlike Danny. See above (far above) characterization notes. But especially, doubly so, for a Danny that grew up knowing and loving the Justice League for most of his childhood, before he had any reason to resent them.

Quite frankly, out of anyone, I would expect Danny - who routinely fights for a town that hated him for half the cartoon, and rescues people that have been cruel to him personally - to understand how terribly difficult it is to be a hero at all. To understand that they work hard to save people every day, that the Flashes time-traveled under great duress and out of pure desperation (as Danny usually does), and to understand that anyone who works around the clock to rescue people is, fundamentally, a good person even when they make mistakes or act out in anger. Repeatedly - with Valerie, with Dora, with Ghost Writer and Dash and Amorpho - Danny is shown to have an intense sense of empathy that lets him forgive people who have acted against him and are not sorry about it.

(And, personally, I think that Danny, having been cloned, would understand how violated Superman felt even if he doesn't agree with how he responded - but that's speculation, I suppose.)

And finally, while I understand the motives writers have for this portrayal (see, again, above notes about fandoms with sweet protagonists that take a lot of shit) the problem is that this vengeful behavior people want him to have is extremely out of character for a boy who:

Apologizes to Dash for something Dash doesn't even know he did (overshadowing him to stick his head in a trash can)

Goes to intentionally let his dad capture him because his dad was having a really bad day

Is the first to suggest a truce the moment he thinks an antagonistic character might be open to it (true of Valerie, Dash, all of his rogues, and occasionally even Vlad)

Once genuinely thought Jazz was beating him up out of anger and responded by apologizing and trying to convince her to calm down

Pretty much only ever just wants people to get along?

I also don't know why you assumed I was basing my entire opinion off drabbles and dialogue snippets, because... no? The stimulus for this entire post was in fact a fic of nearly 10k, which I stopped reading because I was so mortified that Danny kept insulting people that were actively helping him and being considerate and understanding? I don't even read drabbles outside of Tumblr. I prefer longfics, always, and I assure you that I still see all of this pretty regularly. I don't think I've once seen someone imply that Danny holding a grudge is unusual for him.

Why is Danny everyone’s mouthpiece for their random grudges against various superheroes? Why is it SO COMMON for Danny to show up and immediately start chewing people out?

Like. Danny? Mr. ‘My Parents Shoot At Me But It’s Fine’? Mr. ‘Dates The One Ghost Hunter At His School’? Danny ‘Dash Can Shove Me Around I Guess’ Fenton? Holds a bunch of grudges against popular superheroes and tries to punch them at the first available opportunity??

I know it’s become a pretty popular characterization in fandom for Danny to be pretty testy/spiteful, I just don’t really get it

#dpxdc #danny fenton

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rootspiral · 10 hours ago

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Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 9 part 3

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3])

the river flowing. mushrooms and lichens growing from a fallen tree. nicky's other mom is always with them.

agatha clearly loves teaching nicky all she knows about magic, because she is a teacher at heart! and he's literally the first person she gets to pass her knowledge on to, she's relishing every minute of it.

meanwhile poor nicky is just hungry. because the fucker makes him live in the woods.

and I guess she finds it easier to be honest when it's about explaining how magic works.

oh no the way they're whispering is so cute??? and she'll keep calling it her purple long after nicky's death.

and this has been pointed out many times, but when nicky smiles you're sure reminded of how they went out of their way to find a kid who looked like aubrey plaza too

another thing that has been pointed out ad nauseam and it will be repeated again, because it's so good: I cannot heal you, like jen would. I cannot protect you, like alice would. and I cannot divine, like lilia would.

could a real coven have healed nicky, protected him, saved him from his fate? did she kill him sooner than necessary by keeping him cold and starving in the woods? agatha will never know, because despite all her love, she put her own fear over his safety. maybe nicky would have died anyway, but it's still cruel and unfair that he had to spend the little time he had on earth in such a lonely way.

agatha, despite all the mind tricks she plays on herself and on others, is simply too smart to not see that what she's doing is selfish, harmful to nicky, and ultimately futile. this is why she'd rather blame rio, and it's why she can't go to nicky in the afterlife: she can't face her own guilt.

(also, she's afraid she'll find a version of him that can now understand what she did and will hate her for it.) (and I imagine that a grown up nicholas would have had a hard time coming to terms with his childhood too.)

and still. and still. this whole mess of a person doing a terrible job at raising her son? she's also the daughter of an abusive mother who is trying to be better, she is trying to give him what she never had - love, support, knowledge. her selfish choices don't negate all the love and joy she gave him too.

and on top of everything else, nicky is about to freaking die! in modern times we'd say he has a terminal illness, she doesn't know how much time she has left with him. that is an impossible lot to navigate, especially for a person alone and carrying with her so much baggage and trauma and unhealthy coping mechanisms. keeping nicky so isolated is the only way she feels like she has an illusion of control over the inevitable.

agatha is not only denying nicky a coven, she's denying herself a community that would have helped her carry this burden, that would have taught and encouraged her to do better, that would have ultimately shared her pain in mourning. isn't that another tragedy within the tragedy? knowing what could have been?

agatha teaches him magic, even though he doesn't have any. maybe he was still too young, maybe he really was just a regular kid. still, she teaches him.

NOT THE DANDELION. i'm about to bite my screen in anguish

sure, sure, the time has come to go. I'm fine, I'm totally fine.

aaaaaand some more scamming!!!

agatha the ham is one of my favorite agathas. but wait, I'll make you sad again now! they're doing this shit because they don't have any money to eat. and nicky is clearly sick, and agatha is still making him do it. because they don't have any money to eat.

meanwhile witches everywhere are getting curious about the Ballad. (doesn't she look a bit like sadie sink?)

for the THIRD TIME a witch notices nicky coughing / how sick he is and offers her coven's help.

nicky looks agatha straight in the eyes and refuses to lure witches to their deaths. he stands up for himself. he disobeys.

and yes, the obvious double meaning: my other mother needs me home.

agatha forgets all her scheming and runs after him in a panic. she is losing control over him. she is losing him.

#agatha all along #agatha deep dive #agatha harkness #nicholas scratch #character analysis #next one isn't going to be easy for sure :/

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flwrkid14 · 2 days ago

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Sleeping beauty!Tim au but make it angsty

Red Robin gets hit with a spell that makes him sleep and no one is able to wake him up. The wizard villain of the week disappeared after hitting Tim with it and only by the grace of God and Red Hood's speed was he caught before he tumbled off the damn roof.

The batfam think it'll be an easy fix, Bruce gets Zatanna to show up... Except...

Bruce: Why did it not work?

Zatanna: it's one of those fickle sleep spells that can only be broken by true love's kiss. Luckily, it doesn't have to be a romantic kiss or one on the lips, as long as it's from someone who truly loves Red Robin.

Bruce: So why is he not awake?

Zatanna: The fickle thing about this particular spell is that for it to break, Red Robin has to believe that the person who kissed him truly loves him.

Cue all the angst and heartbreak and self reflection as the batfam realize, after each of them tries to wake Tim, that their brother genuinely thinks they don't love him.

Eventually it's Kon who manages to wake Tim up with a gentle kiss on the forehead.

In the aftermath, Tim doesn't know how to deal with the way the batfam are looking at him like he broke their hearts or the way Bruce looks uncomfortably on the verge of tears.

Thank you so much for the ask!!—this is such a deliciously angsty concept, and I can’t get over how much it says about the Batfamily and their emotional blind spots.

It’s so painfully them, isn’t it? The Batfamily, who love so fiercely but are absolutely terrible at showing it in ways that matter. They’re all so busy with their missions, their duty, their endless fight to keep Gotham and each other safe, that they don’t stop to think about how their love is perceived. They assume it’s obvious in the way they watch each other’s backs or show up when it counts. But Tim? Tim’s spent so long in the shadows, convincing himself he’s just a cog in the machine, that he doesn’t see any of that as love.

And now they’re standing there, one by one, trying and failing to wake him up. It’s not just frustrating—it’s devastating. Because the truth they’ve all been avoiding is staring them in the face: Tim doesn’t believe they love him. And maybe, deep down, they know why. Every harsh word, every time they brushed him off because there was a bigger crisis, every moment they assumed Tim was fine because he didn’t say otherwise—it’s all coming back to haunt them now.

Jason probably storms off first, pretending it doesn’t bother him, but the guilt is eating him alive. Dick, who prides himself on being the emotional glue of the family, is visibly shaken—because how could he miss this? How could he fail Tim like this? And Bruce, oh, Bruce—he’s silent, but you can see the way his hands tremble, the way his jaw tightens. He’s spent years thinking his actions spoke louder than words, and now he’s realizing he might’ve been wrong.

And when Kon finally wakes Tim up? It’s not just a relief—it’s a wake-up call. Kon, who loves Tim so plainly and without hesitation, didn’t have to fight through layers of doubt or miscommunication. His love was clear, and Tim believed it without question. The Batfamily can’t say the same, and it hurts.

But what really gets me is the aftermath. Tim, sitting there, bewildered and uncomfortable as the Batfamily stares at him with those shattered, guilty expressions. To him, it doesn’t make sense—he’s fine, the mission’s done, so why are they acting like he’s the one who needs fixing? And when Bruce finally asks, voice quiet and cracking, “Why didn’t you believe us?” Tim doesn’t know how to answer. Because in his mind, it wasn’t a question of love—it was a question of worth.

It’s such a raw, painful exploration of the Batfamily’s dynamic. They love each other deeply, but they’re so bad at saying it, at showing it in ways that the other person can feel. And Tim? Tim’s just been waiting, quietly, for proof he didn’t think would ever come.

This is such a beautifully tragic setup, and I love how it forces them all to face what they’ve been avoiding. If you—or anyone—writes this, I would absolutely love to read it!! The emotional fallout alone would be worth its weight in tears!

#anon ask #thanks anon!#batfamily angst #tim drake #kon el

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solxamber · 1 day ago

Note

Pomefiore 7 and fluff please and thank you

Sweet Little Sacrifce || Epel Felmier

For the Holiday Event! || Prompt: "For you, anything." ; Genre: Fluff

The party was Vil’s masterpiece: shimmering lights, elegant decor, and desserts so pretty they could’ve been displayed in a museum. Everything was perfect. Except for the fact that Epel looked like he wanted to chuck his plate out the nearest window.

You sidled up to him, noticing the delicate pastry sitting untouched on his plate—a dainty tart topped with sugared flowers and a shimmering glaze that probably cost more than your entire lunch budget.

“Fancy choice,” you teased, glancing at your own plate, which held a much simpler snack.

Epel sighed dramatically, leaning in to whisper, “Vil’s watchin’. If I grabbed somethin’ normal, I’d never hear the end of it.”

“...So what’s your plan? Eat it?”

“Not a chance,” he muttered, sliding the plate toward you with a sheepish grin. “Trade me?”

You stared at him, then at the tart, which looked like it might be more glitter than food. “Epel, this thing looks like it tastes like a candle.”

He gave you the most pitiful look, all wide eyes and pleading. “Please? You love me, don’t ya?”

You sighed, already sliding your snack onto his plate. “I hate that you know I can’t say no to you.”

Epel grinned, immediately digging into your snack like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. Meanwhile, you stared down the tart, preparing yourself for battle.

The first bite hit like a sugar bomb. The floral flavor was so strong you felt like you’d just eaten a bouquet, and the glitter crunched ominously between your teeth. You fought the urge to gag, smiling stiffly instead.

Epel caught the expression and leaned closer, smirking. “How is it?”

“Delightful,” you lied through gritted teeth.

“You’re terrible at lyin’,” he said, laughing softly. “You hate it, don’t ya?”

“It’s fine,” you said, forcing another bite down. “I love you, so a little over-sugared pastry won’t kill me.”

Epel froze mid-bite, his ears turning red as your words registered. “...You love me?”

You raised an eyebrow, confused. “Obviously? We’ve been dating for a while, Epel.”

“I know,” he mumbled, fidgeting with his fork. “It’s just… nice to hear.”

You softened, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “I love you, and I’d eat five of these glitter monstrosities for you if I had to. For you, anything.”

He grinned, his blush deepening as he leaned in to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “You’re way too good for me.”

“True,” you teased. “But next time, you’re eating the candle tart.”

“Deal,” he laughed, pulling you close. “But only if you share your snacks with me again.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile. Epel might’ve hated frilly desserts, but he sure knew how to make you feel like the most important person in the room.

Masterlist

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #epel felmier x reader #epel x reader #epel felmier #epel #𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 holiday event

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bluerosefox · 4 hours ago

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So... This was inspired by listening to EPIC (FREAKING LOVE ALL THE ALBUMS, SO GOOD) and by @noxcheshire post of Tim being Odysseus reincarnated and Danny (maybe also reincarnated) being his Penelope (Here) so I had to turn it into a Dead Tired idea.

The song The Challenge is the main one here. (Cause I LOVE that song... along with Would You Fall In Love With Me Again)

So WHAT IF Danny IS the reincarnated Penelope, after becoming the Ghost King Danny's memories of his past life as Penelope returns and remembers how before dying/ or being reincarnated both Penelope and Odysseus promised to find each other in their new lives, no matter who they are, what new form they take, they will find each other.

So Danny/Penelope, just like before waits for their Odysseus to return to them, but also tries to find him in their new life (CW is laughing whenever Danny asks for hints and gets a 'In due time, just wait' answer, ugh Danny wants to smack CW for that)

However just like in his previous life with being in a high position of power, Danny is being pressured to marry/take a spouse (now its not just men/males though so its a huge headache, I head canon Ghosts don't care much for gender preference) mostly by the dang eyeballs that Danny is still trying to find a way to get rid of without upsetting the Infinite Realms dedicate (but slowly healing) balance even if Danny wanted nothing more than to punch all of the suitors out.

So Danny decides to play the long game again.

And waits for their Odysseus return.

Danny's wait is over when they suddenly feel the Realms shift one day, as if welcoming someone familiar home, and the same feeling Danny had when he had been Penelope and saw the storm that was sign of Odysseus coming home, Danny decides its time to bring out The Challenge once again. (CW gifted Danny a few things from his past as Penelope as a coronation gift, like Odysseus's bow (now enchanted to be unbreakable), a painting of when he was Penelope, with Telemchus, and Odysseus, and the Marriage Bed/Olive Tree, AND the Palace Odysseus made that Danny takes to being in over being at Pariah's Keep)

-x-x-

Meanwhile

Tim Drake, aka Red Robin, always had strange dreams as a child.

War, Death, Monsters, Gods, Goddesses.

His dreams were more like nightmares, haunting him and he sometimes woke up in cold sweat.

He hated storms. Hated being in the water for to long. Hated how he felt both tense but also at home when around Greek heroes, as if he was afraid to 'disrespect' them (Cassie was the only one he didn't feel that way around, mostly cause they had been somewhat friends before their heroing since their parents knew each other) but also knew how to appease them should he insult them. He also had a strange hatred for the CoO with a burning passion because he felt like they were mocking real Owls.

The worst part of nightmares that always pop up are of what feels like should be his home is being invaded by unwanted guests (they aren't guests), how they are angry over trying to string a bow and shot an arrow through axes, of the terrible terrible things he hear them saying they were going to do to his loved ones (two names that keep getting muted out).

How it ends in bloodshed with echoing of begging, pleading, mercy, and screams.

However in those nightmares at the end. He also finds himself looking for something in them.

Or rather he always found someone waiting for him at the end of the nightmares. Calling him by the wrong name but it sounds just right coming from them.

The dream always ends with the person asking 'How long has it been?' and before he can answer he wakes up.

So yeah Tim has horrifying nightmares/dreams he could never explain.

And the urge to find someone. To go home to them.

It isn't until he and his friends from Young Justice are hit by a spell from Klarion (who may or may not had a visit from a certain chaos encouraging Time Keeper) and sent to a place called the Infinite Realms in the middle of their fight, that Tim is hit hard with déjà vu when he spots a certain Palace in the distance and overhears some of the 'people?' (they glow and float and some don't even look human?! where are they?) talk about how the 'King' has issued a new 'Challenge' for his 'suitors'.

A Challenge involving a bow, and axes.

And Tim, feels like he knows this all too well and needs to do it.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #crossover #dp x dc #blue rambles #danny phantom dc #writing ideas #random idea #dpxdc #dead tired #Danny is Penelope reincarnated #Tim is Odysseus reincarnated #Danny regains memories after being crowned #but gets 'courted' by 'suitors' again by the eyeballs #Tim is feeling a bit murderous when he hears the gossip #he doesn't know why yet #the urge to go to the familiar looking palace hits Tim hard #He frames it to his friends that maybe this King can help them though #Am I feral for this idea #YES #also wouldn't it be funny if like Dani is Telemchus reincarnated if we go with Dani being more like Danny's child?#Just tossing more ideas out #Most likely going to be my last DPxDC 2024 prompt lol #Tim once he decides to do the Challenge is going to be VERY murderous towards the eyeballs/suitors to LEAVE #Also Danny totally does the 'Can you move the wedding bed?' question just to make sure Tim is Odysseus #And Tim is so taken aback that he answers the same way he did the first time and doesn't realize it. It comes out like second nature.#Rants about it #And Danny just smiles at the answers

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magnoliapromenadegalleria · 2 days ago

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TLDR:

-People have a hard time connecting with Kant because his main motivation, Babe, is not around much.

-Kant and Bison are both guilty of lying to one another. Interested to see how they navigate their relationship now that they are both on to each other.

I've had this thought in my head since last week, but never got around to writing it down. I think part of the reason people, not me because if Kant had one fan it would be me, have such a hard time getting behind Kant's reasoning and motivation, is because we aren't that familiar with the object of said reasoning. Babe is Kant's motivation. He's the only family he's got as far as we know, and he's Babe's guardian. It's not only a question of if Kant doesn't do what Capt. Crunch does he will be sent to jail, it's if Kant doesn't do what Capri Sun does he will be sent to jail, and Babe will most likely go into the system because there's no one else. That's simply just not an option. Kant wasn't stealing cars because he liked the thrill of it, he did so because he needed to take care of his brother, and he was desperate. We joke that Kant is a terrible criminal, but I think that's the point? From the pieces that we can grasp, he was/is a criminal out of necessity after his parent's sudden death, and not just for the thrill of it. He wouldn't be in his current situation if he was great at it.

When you write it out like that, I think it makes one more empathetic to his plight but the problem is we don't really know Babe. I wrote in a previous post that Fadel and Kant are the same in different fonts. Both are protective of their brothers and will do anything to protect them, but the stark difference is we know Bison. He's a fleshed-out person and we feel bad for him. We don't know Babe. We know that he likes Shakespeare, he gets bullied, and he's Kan't brother. That's it. We go episodes without seeing him, and his absence leads one to forget that he's the main reason Kant is doing any of this at all. He just looks like a sleaze trying to stay out of jail.

With each episode, it is becoming clear that Kant is failing horribly with not becoming attached to Bison. He lies and has a healthy amount of fear of Bison, but his gestures are honest. He can't help it, he's been into Bison since before he knew what he was. He's not just sweet on Bison because he has a role to play, he's sweet on Bison period. With them living and working in such close proximity anyway, they were bound to be a thing.

But.

That's not what happened, and he can't even fully explore his feelings because this cop is threatening him and has put him in an impossible and dangerous situation with no resources or protection, Bison is a killer, and he's stressed out by both. There's definitely nuance and reasoning there with Bison, but baby boy is still incredibly lethal. Kant's head has got to be stronger than his heart and his other head, and as much as he likes Bison, he loves his brother abundantly more, and that's reasonable. He also does not know Bison. I wrote something last year while watching Only Friends about Sand and Ray's relationship that I think can be applied here. Kant and Bison are not getting the same insight into one another, for clear reasons. They're open with each other, but they are not completely honest with each other for, again, reasons.

Kant is lying to Bison, but Bison is also lying to Kant. Kant knows Bison is lying to him, but being a sweet-faced assassin is a pretty big omission. Bison is under the impression that he's killing bad people, but Kant isn't privy to that and only knows that under that pretty face with dreams and an artistic spirit with a love of cats lies a killer. Someone who could kill him and his brother and not think twice about it. Obviously not, but Kant does not know that. Someone who just as easily lies to him about a big part of his life, and with a lot more ease. Bison doesn't want to be an assassin anymore and wants to live his life, but as far we know he does not lose sleep over any of his kills, and that's still scary. Again, nuance there, I got a whole thought process on other mother raising children to be disposable assassins, but this post ain't that!

It's been touched on many times that Bison knows there's something up with Kant. He is a perceptive little thing, so there's no way he doesn't know Kant is not being truthful. Fadel has pointed out and Bison does not listen. Bison knows. Deep in his bones he's always known, but I think he didn't want to believe it because he's fallen for Kant. That may not have been the initial goal, he just wanted freedom and Kant's hot, great motivators, but dammit if he didn't fall for the guy. I have a similar theory about Kant. Let me explain, don't touch the mic, let me explain. Kant knows Bison's other occupation. Capt told him what was up and he hasn't been completely comfortable around Bison because he knows this information, but I don't think it really clicked for him until he went into Bison and Fadel's secret room. Not because he didn't believe it, but because he didn't want it to be true. I think he wanted Capt. to be wrong about this because he's fallen for Bison too, and not only that, he's falling deeper despite all that. Which is a terrifying revelation. And Bison protected his brother twice now? Kant might be better at keeping himself than the other three, and he might be lying to himself out of self preservation, but he's just as gone. Now that both know about the other, I'm so ready for them to finally be truthful and truly lay themselves bare without deceit between them.

...This got away from me, but whatever.

One last thing! I think this scene above is after all truths and betrayal are out in the open because that looks like a taxi, probably stolen, Kant looks like he might be wearing some sort of uniform that hides his tattoos, and Bison is wearing a hat to hide his identity. Okay, I'm done.

#the heart killers #the heart killers series #the heart killers the series #kantbison #kant thk #bison thk #firstkhao

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beeceit · 1 day ago

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You have some fair points, and I definitely am not saying that someone who has done well and truly evil things cannot become a good person if they work at it. It's more that I can't read early red hood comics without looking at the man behind the curtain

During the time Jason was dead they essentially retconned his character by insisting that he was violent and unskilled and bound to be a criminal, but none of that was ever really present. They also try very very hard to push the idea that being from crime ally meant he was inherently evil and Bruce was trying to change fate by teaching him to be good

The real world reason is they needed readers to trust that Tim Drake would be safe, because the only way to make Batman not a monster for taking on another Robin is to make Jason's death not Bruce's fault but Jason's. But instead of focusing on how it was a brash decision made in a moment of panic to save an innocent- his MOTHER of all people- and pushing extra for Tim to be trained to keep his personal feelings and vigilantism separate, they decided to make it so that Jason was just inherently a bad Robin and was bound to die regardless. (Which would still make Batman a terrible mentor and guardian for letting him continue fighting if he "always knew" but they gloss over that)

But one of the biggest differences between Tim and Jason is their backgrounds, and they NEEDED Tim to be better than Jason so readers would believe in Robin again. So Jason, being a homeless kid from crime alley, becomes a loose cannon and violent and reckless. And Tim, being a wealthy trust fund kid in an elite boarding school, becomes the opposite. Nevermind how Tim shows more recklessness than Jason actually did. Their actions and motivations are painted completely differently

Everything Jason does as red hood feels like such a sudden change of character because the resurrected Jason essentially IS a new character based on a game of telephone between a select few of his Robin era comics and a real life decade of slandering his character while he was dead.

Talia was portrayed as horrendously evil at this point (which was probably heavily influenced by racist writers tbh) so a lot of it could definitely be attributed to her training and manipulation. I personally interpret it as her setting up a test to see if Bruce would accept Damian, if she groomed the son he already loved into a monster and he still could love him, then their already monstrous son would be safe with him. That and the trauma of his death are the only real in story reasons that feel like explanations for why he could change so much. But it still feels wildly out of character for who Jason was established to be before his death, for him to do things like stripping Dick and Damian (who was like 10 at the time) to their underwear and putting them in front of cameras to let Gotham vote to expose their identity

I think a writing team who genuinely knew and loved the Jason that really existed before his death would have handled him way differently. I can see Jason coming back harder, I can see him coming back hurt and angry. I can even see a true to himself Jason still becoming a crime lord and lethal force because he loves Crime Alley and Batman neglects it, so he has to fight back for Crime Alley in the only way he knows will work

And instead he got written by people who decided his natural hair color was ginger and Bruce forced him to dye it black, even though in this continuity Jason already had black hair when they met

Of course the past is already set in stone, what happened was what happened. I just really wish he was handled with more care and respect than he was, instead of just becoming a vessel for the violent classism of the writers

I used to give the 'lazarus pit madness' trope for jason so much shit unless it was a REALLY good fic that did something interesting with the idea. But the more I read of pre52 red hood the more I'm just like "yeah no I have absolutely no idea how I'd reconcile all this heinous shit he's done without finding a way to make it not his fault actually"

I hate the 'jason was always a monster and bruce couldn't save him' nonsense so much, he was literally just a homeless little boy. MY BUDDY LITERALLY WILLINGLY WENT BACK TO BEING HOMELESS BECAUSE HE DIDN'T WANT TO HURT PEOPLE FOR MA GUNN EVEN THOUGH IT MEANT GIVING UP FOOD AND SHELTER AND DECENT TREATMENT

jason sweetheart I'm so sorry dc butchered you like this my god

When the characterization is so inconsistent the fandom has to resort to literal magic to explain it.

But seriously, I haven’t read a whole lot of Jason as Robin but from what I did read he was so tiny and just wanted to do good. It’s a disservice to every character involved for Bruce to adopt him because he thought he’d be a criminal otherwise. It implies Bruce thinks of every kid living in poverty as a shoe in for crime and not as some of the most vulnerable individuals in low SE areas. Which is just…so bad considering he’s 1) a rich white man stereotyping a large group of people and 2) someone that fights crime because of an act of violence commited in front of him as a little boy. A Batman that doesn’t believe in the goodness of a child (especially one like Jason who, like you said, gave up basic necessities for the sake of his morals) and protecting it in a way he wasn’t protected is a very very weird Batman to me. So it turns Bruce into a white knight and redhood into confirmation of Bruce’s stereotyping and paranoia.

If it was just Jason thinking that’s why Bruce took him in it would be a completely different animal. I might have even enjoyed reading about how Jason rationalized their changed relationship after he came back swinging (literally) and thinking that it’s some innate characteristic about him that drove the wedge between him and Bruce before he even realized it was there. But it’s very much not just Jason. EVERYONE. FUCKING. SAYS. IT. And tbh that kinda ruins everyone just a bit in my eyes. If not agreement and support for Bruce’s bs, they’re at least silently complicit in perpetuating it.

But beyond that, it also makes me think of Devin Grayson’s run where she kept fucking talking about how dick was “meant for crime” or would have obviously been a criminal if it wasn’t for Bruce. This was built on frankly awful stereotypes regarding Romani people. I bring this one up because the combination of the two does not make Bruce look as good as the writers seemed to think.

But if we ignore the bs involved and take the reason for Jason’s adoption at face value, I think it offers an interesting comparison between him and Damian. Jason is presented a child destined for a life of crime who eventually became one of The Villains despite Batman’s efforts. Damian was an heir destined for crime who eventually became one of The Heroes because of Batman’s efforts. Idk it’s just interesting to me.

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loredrinker · 3 days ago

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The Role of Freedom and Choice in Solas's Fate

Thinking about choice in general and how the freedom of choice impacts a person's evolution and transformation. And how each of the endings reflect that.

Veilguard spoilers below - and a long post.

The only ending that truly allows Solas the freedom to choose is the Atonement ending.

Freedom and Choice are Important to Solas

Solas, a man who fought to free his people from slavery for hundreds of years, values freedom and choice.

Solas hates ignorance and being mindless - because ignorance is not freedom. There are a lot of great lines in one of his arguments with a low approval Inquisitor:

He's also willing to kill if ignorance has destroyed something he values (All New Faded for Her).

True freedom involves the ability to make informed choices.

Wisdom flourishes in freedom - this allows for choices to be made that lead to transformation and change.

Pride, in contrast, can be rigid, defensive, and resistant to change. When choice is removed, pride can fester because there is usually no space for reflection or growth.

Take away the freedom to choose, and you start to strip away someone’s humanity.

Allowing choice and agency creates fertile ground for change and shifting perspectives. Which is strengthened through connection with others.

We saw this shift in Inquisition:

Perspectives are shifting.

In Trespasser, a high-approval Inquisitor can tell Solas they’ll prove he doesn’t need to destroy the world, to which Solas replies, “I would treasure the chance to be wrong once again, my friend.” He’s open to the possibility of another path, of a different choice.

I see proof of this shift in Veilguard.

In Trespasser, Solas tells the Inquisitor that saving his world will destroy theirs and sounds like he's talking absolute destruction. But in Veilguard, he tells Varric that he’s taken precautions to minimize damage and confesses to Rook that while thousands may die, he’s working to preserve as much life as possible.

Personal opinion: Some people claim that Solas lies all the time - to himself, to others. Yes, he lies, but all the time? That feels like (to me) a simplistic and one-dimensional view of this character. I love Solas because he embodies duality. He tells the truth and he lies, but his lies are never straightforward. They’re strategic, carefully worded, lies of omission or half-truths. Saying “he just lies about everything” is too easy. Solas invites us to discern for ourselves, to see him through the lens of the story we choose to believe about him. The game acknowledges this duality when (depending on dialogue choices), Solas tells Rook, “I am, after all, remembered as the god of lies, treachery and rebellion.” When Rook responds with, "Depending on the story.” Solas follows with, “And what story shall we tell now?” I LOVE that line - it’s like he’s turning to us, the player and asking, What are you going to believe? We have a choice here.

Back to the main point: is Solas lying about having spirits at the ready? Maybe. But we know Solas is friends with spirits (All New, Faded for Her), and he led spirits in battles against the Evenuris, he spoke with spirits trying to convince some to fight back.

And Emmrich says to Solas:

So why is it so hard to believe that he did ask spirits to stand by and help?

Solas admits that while destruction is inevitable, he’s trying to minimize the damage. Yes, it's still morally questionable, but it shows a shift - a choice to preserve life where he can.

Choices Shape Us

The good, the bad, and the ugly - Solas’s choices define him. Prideful Solas makes destructive, terrible, morally grey decisions. He tries exerting force over Rook, manipulates, and attempts trickery. He tries to take away Rook’s own choices when it suits him.

But we also see Wise Solas guiding and helping Rook. I love this ongoing dance between Wisdom and Pride throughout Veilguard. Which wolf will be fed?

Freedom to choose is complemented by relationships - connections with others that encourage reflection. Just as Solas’s connections in Inquisition helped him reflect and shift, his connection with Rook - a new mirror for him - will also help him shift. The question is, will it be for the worse or the better?

So We Get to the End...

Elgar'nan has been defeated, Rook holds the dagger and now Rook has a choice...which will set the stage for which Solas enters the Fade – wisdom (spirit) or pride (demon).

Trick Weekes mentioned on Bluesky in answer to a question about Solas's trauma being tied to the dagger.

(Here is the original Tumblr post which is a great read)

With that in mind, let’s examine the endings - and Solas’s mental state - through the lens of freedom to choose.

The "Normal" Ending

In this ending, Rook has taken the time to help their companions, resolving their issues so they can make meaningful choices and become stronger versions of themselves. This collective strength allows Rook and the team to overpower Solas. However, Rook chooses not to offer a choice to Solas. Instead, they stab him, forcibly binding him to the Veil, against his will.

The image following this ending shows Solas in his Veilguard outfit, falling backward almost like in a spiral. To me this visual conveys a sense of being out of control - surrounded by darkness and a swirling storm. His mind is clearly not in a good place (he refers to himself a god now). Solas is trapped by force, and left in a dark, chaotic state.

The "Good" (Trick) Ending

The Trick ending is intriguing. What’s interesting is that it’s called a "good" ending, and I think that’s because, in this ending, Solas still makes a choice.

Rook and the team outwit Solas, forcefully binding him to the Veil once again. However, within this act of force, there’s a small glimmer of hope - Solas chooses to accept his defeat. He bitterly admits he was bested and calls himself a fool. While Pride may have the upper hand here, his Wisdom isn’t completely lost symbolized by the bright background in the final image.

Though the image shows Solas falling again, he doesn’t appear to be struggling against it in this one. This tells me that, despite his defeat, Solas’s mindset might still have a chance to recover and evolve down the road.

The "Bad" Ending

The bad ending is fascinating to me on a few layers. It's described as the default because it requires the least effort. In this path, Rook neglects their companions’ personal quests, chooses not to help them resolve their issues (which would enable them to make meaningful choices so they can grow, so they can choose their paths going forward.) Relationships are sidelined, and everyone dies.

Solas’s state reflects this. He’s snarling, sneering, and fighting, stabs Rook, is consumed by anger, desperation and resistance. Rook chases after Solas as he tries to escape, grabs him from behind, preventing him from moving forward, pulls back on him slightly - then the Fade grabs them - pulling them both back to the Fade (as seen in this video).

He's being pulled - not enough of him to be him. He becomes what battered him, bruised his being.

And the image following this? Just an image of a memorial. No peek into Solas's mind, no commentary on it from Varric. My interpretation? Wisdom (Solas) is gone.

And Rook? Not looking good. The text following says that this "cost many lives, including Rook and the team". This implies Rook didn't make it.

This ending triggered a visceral reaction in me. To me the message is clear.

Rook’s decision not to support their companions means the team is unable to grow, leaving them unprepared to face challenges, weakening their collective strength. The absence of meaningful connection (which I highlighted earlier is a part of growth) results in a failure to create the unity needed to overcome Solas - and Rook and the team pay the price for this. For Solas, this lack of connection mirrors his descent into Pride.

Without the influence of reflection, compassion, or alternative perspectives from others, he remains trapped in his own rigid mindset.

The "Best" Ending (Atonement)

Despite Solas constantly trying to screw Rook over, Rook chooses to turn the other cheek – and offers him another chance. Rook also holds Solas accountable, reminding him that by tearing down the Veil, he’s taking away everyone else's freedom to choose - because it’s what he wants.

Solas is reflective here, mirroring the energy he’s met with. When confronted with ego, he responds with ego; when met with understanding, he opens himself to it. Rook’s willingness to forgive (this offering of another path is an act of forgiveness) and to challenge him, continues nurturing the chance for further change, allowing other voices, like the Inquisitor’s and Mythal’s, to influence him as well.

But the choice is still Solas's.

And when Solas CHOOSES to uphold the Veil:

In both endings where Solas enters the Fade - whether alone or with a romanced Inquisitor - the Fade is bright. In the solo ending, Solas appears to be taking purposeful steps forward, looking like a wise sage. In the romanced ending, he holds the Inquisitor in an embrace, symbolizing connection.

Both endings show a Solas looking like he was in Inquisition, a reminder of how his time with the Inquisition mattered. The relationships he formed shaped him, helping him build a foundation to move forward, to shift perspectives in order to make new choices.

As Solas says to a friend Inquisitor and Rook, “Thanks to you, I see another way.” That realization came because Rook and the Inquisitor reflected that possibility back to him.

And when Solas chooses atonement, he starts envisioning a better future - a world where the Blight is soothed and even the Titans might have a place. But being forced into the Fade? Who knows how long it might take for him to see that path (if at all), or if the resentment from being forced will taint his perspective.

The Atonement ending reminds me that people can change, but real change requires freedom, open-mindedness, connections with others and the opportunity to choose. Solas’s transformation happens because he’s given the space to choose his own path - not because he’s forced into it. Along the way, the people who challenged and engaged his Wisdom guided him back to his core essence, allowing him to reclaim his purpose in the end.

But again, this is just my interpretation (and still evolving).

#solas #dragon age veilguard #dragon age inquisition #dragon age #veilguard spoilers #solas analysis #datv #da:i #datv spoilers

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epicmusings0101 · 3 days ago

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Ithaca Saga

The more I listen to this saga, the more I feel like it pertains to every single point that has been made before, and here's why.

The Challenge

It presents us to Penelope, it shows her own cunning and fast mind. After years by her husband's side, she's lying and deceiving the suitors to buy Odysseus some time.

The waiting motif that she got from Odysseus mother to show that she'll always wait for him, no matter what.

Hold Them Down

The danger motif.

We're presented to a foe that is as dangerous an vicious as any god or monster. Men.

Men planning on murder and other worse things.

There's no moral distinction between the suitors or the gods and monster. They are treated as equal.

Odysseus

We get the same motif of the beginning of Monster.

This is Odysseus at his most primal state. Here, he's stating that he has had enough.

He has enough of hurt, of pain, of hearing people ploting the demise of the people he loves.

He's being associated with Polyphemus here. The motif could imply a few things: He, like Polyphemus, found his house raided by strangers and wanted to kill them. But unlike Polyphemus, Odysseus now knows better and is using everything he's learned to his advantage.

Considering that the Polyphemus theme was played specifically in Survive and not in the actual song titled Polyphemus, it could also imply further context to the narrative.

In Survive, Polyphemus clearly states that he's has suffered enough. That he has been through enough pain and now he'll lash out. And this where Odysseus arc begins to change. This is also the first moment where Odysseus loses someone he loves, adding even more layers to this already fascinating recontextualization.

But in Odysseus there are only call backs to moments within Monster. The song even closes with the same sound that Monster closes with.

The presence of a choir with Odysseus name seems to suggest or imply that in that moment, he's a god or has the abilities of one.

If that's what's actually happening because there's no animatics yet.

Odysseus than says his mercy is dead, that it died so he get home, but is a lot more complicated than that and use of later motifs would prove as much.

Important to note that there are trumpets associated with Telemachus when he sates he doesn't want to hurt the suitors but will if needed be which implies he's not bluffing.

He has what it takes to defend those he loves.

I Can't Help But Wonder

There's a clear shift in tone here.

Odysseus immediately softens up as he hears Telemachus.

Odysseus acoustic guitar.

Here when Athena apears again, Odysseus tells her the world she speaks off empathy and what they world could be with people had more of it. And Odysseus says that if this world exists is too far (beyond his years).

He's simply addressing that the world she speaks off doesn't exist, because it doesn't yet.

Because Odysseus has already understood, at this point, the duality of human nature. He has yet to acknowledge the duality with himself, but everything the narrative has been telling him is.

You can be a man and be terrible. You can be a god and be kind. You can be kind and die. You can be ruthless and be hurt with your own weapon, you can be a person turned into a monster.

Would You Fall In Love With me Again

This song is basically this point driven home by the musicality and the lyrics of it.

I already talked of the bed representing their love, but I also believe it might represent Odysseus himself. The Odysseus of before all his trials and tribulations, the one that remains there in their room, the one that still loves her.

That's why we get every instrument here, I believe. Because through his journey, Odysseus has learned with everyone he has faced.

Not every lesson was good, not every lesson was of kindness.

The Just a Man motif is there - under different instruments- to imply that shift within Odysseus.

Yes. He's changed, he has learned a lot a long the way, and she has been waiting for him and now he's home.

And he's just a man.

Odysseus tells Penelope that he knows that she had been waiting for love, almost as if stating that he can no longer love and the song is essentially her reminding him that yes he can. He has never stopped.

That's why I believe the motif isn't under just the horns, but under other instruments as well (that are associated with other gods like Athena).

He's not the exact same man, but he is just a man. He's still a man.

He is the ruthlessness he has learned with Poseidon, he's the wisdom he has learned with Athena, he's the same man that loves his family more than anything.

This man went through major changes and trials and tribulations, but the song is informing us as an audience that this is false.

He is still the man that has loved Penelope and Telemachus.

#epic the musical #epic the ithaca saga #epic odysseus #epic penelope #epic odypen #odypen

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your-hockey-mom · 9 hours ago

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I'm having a shit day, I need Quinn to fix it

Please and thanks

Rain, rain, go away, come again...when you didn't have a hundred errands to run and were short on time to do them. Naturally, it would pour the entire time you were out and about, and your umbrella had decided to break the first time you went to use it. It really set the tone for the rest of the day; a terrible foreshadowing you had hoped wouldn't be the case.

The only reason you were out running those errands in the first place was because you had taken the day off to make sure everything was nice for when Quinn got back home. You knew he was going to be exhausted after finishing another six straight games on the road. Plus, you wanted to enjoy the evening with him knowing nothing would be looming in the back of your mind that would take away from your time together. However, since the minute you got up it was like everything was stacked against you. You had slept through your alarm, getting up almost two hours later than you had intended. You thought you had plugged in your phone but hadn't make a proper connection so your battery was at 12% to start the day. And to add insult to injury (literally), you had dropped a glass while in the kitchen and had cut your hand while trying to pick up the pieces.

Today was proving to be one of those days that were best spent at home, but unfortunately, that wouldn't be the case for you. By this point, your phone was now sitting at 6%, because you realized, after you had left the parking garage, that the charger you left in your car was in Quinn's. You just hoped it would hold on long enough to get you home.

You would be stopped at a red light, mid rush hour, when a message would ding in. It was Quinn and the dreaded text you didn't want to come across your phone until you were already back at his apartment.

"Hey baby, we just touched down. I'll see you soon. I love you."

"I might not be there when you get home. Stuck in traffic. </3 I love you, too. <3 <3 Also, phone is about dead. >:("

"Just be careful. I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too."

- - -

Getting everything out of the car had been hard enough, but carrying them with your cut palm was the worst. Being half asleep and dealing with broken glass was not a good combination, something you would note for the future. Sure, you couldn't have texted Quinn to see if he would help you, which you knew he would have, but you were determined to get it done yourself.

When you stepped into the elevator, from the parking garage, all you could think of was "please don't break down. I do not want to walk up the stairs. I do not want to be trapped in an elevator with a dead phone." Thinking it was a bad idea to put such thoughts into the Universe, you'd just count floors instead until you reached Quinn's.

It was a struggle to unlock the door but you had managed though your hand was burning and you were pretty sure you were bleeding again. Just something else that would get tended to later. Once inside, you'd drop everything at the door and Quinn would come from the bedroom to greet you.

"Oh sweetheart, why didn't you tell me you were downstairs? I would have helped you with all of this." He wrapped his arms around you and you melt into his body. "I have missed you so much."

"I'm so glad you're home." All of a sudden and without warning, you begin to cry. Likely a culmination of trash sleep, stress, no food, and pain. Your body and emotions were just fried; not to mention you hated when he was gone for so long.

"What's wrong, baby?" Quinn would say softly, gently tightening his hold on you. "Are you alright?" Anytime you were having a rough day, he was the first person to notice and always did everything he could to make you feel better.

"No," you said, hiding your face in his neck. You weren't ready to have him see how much you were struggling.

"Why don't you go sit, hmm? I'll get this."

"I wanted to have everything done for you but today has been awful."

Quinn pulls away from you just enough to tip your chin up towards his face. You can't escape him now and the look on your face makes his puppy eyes heavy with emotion. "Oh, baby~"

He kisses you several times, each one of them sweeter than the last, yet the tears still continue to fall from your cheeks. "Come on, this stuff can wait."

Taking your non-bandaged hand, he ushers you to the sofa where he insists you sit in his lap so you can be as close to him as possible. You loved moments like these just on better circumstances than today had given you.

"Baby, you're bleeding. What happened?"

You had reached up to brush some hair from your eyes when he caught sight of the bandage now tinged bright red in the center. You dropped your hand to your leg and shook your head. "It's nothing. Just a clumsy accident."

"Let me see."

You refuse, sniffling and trying to hold back the welling tears.

"Please?"

Damn those eyes of his; damn the tone of his voice that just took your breath away. You could never truly tell him no and this was no different. You'd turn your palm upwards when you presented it to him, scared it was worse that you thought it was initially.

"May I look at it?"

You just nod, before laying your head against his shoulder. You didn't want to see it and you knew him pulling back the adhesive of the bandage was going to hurt, even though he had the softest touch.

Quinn was always so careful with you; always asking for permission especially if it would potentially cause you pain. Slowly he'd remove the bandage and you would wince against the discomfort even though he did everything he could to make it easy on you. "How did this happen?"

Quinn's tone conveyed deep worry and hurt and that didn't give you the reassurance you were hoping for.

"This morning. I got up late, and was half asleep taking my vitamins and I guess my hand just stopped working and I dropped it. It shattered everywhere. I didn't realize I had grabbed the raw edge until it was too late and I cut myself."

"Oh sweetheart," Quinn whispered laying his head against yours. "Want me to fix you up?"

"I'll get it."

"Please?"

Twice now, he had used that word with (that) tone, and twice now you would fold without another chance to resist. Again, you would silently nod, letting him slip out from under you while he disappeared into the bathroom for a few moments. You remembered how you had left it and it made you feel worse, but when he returned, the only thing that mattered to him was making sure you were alright.

"You said today was awful, how come?" He talked to you while he worked so to keep you from focusing solely on your hand and the pain. Everything he did was so thoughtful.

"I stayed up too late watching The First 48, then I slept through my alarms this morning, so I was two hours behind. I guess I hadn't clicked my charger into my phone fully so it didn't charge. I dropped the glass. I didn't get the apartment cleaned. I didn't get the laundry put away. I forgot my charger was in your car. My umbrella broke." With each added reason for the bad day it made you more emotional to the point that he had to stop cleaning the cut to lay a hand on your leg and try to calm you.

"Shhh, baby, baby, it's okay. None of that matters now. I didn't expect you to be waiting for me at the door. I'm just glad you're here now, but I'm sorry you had such a hard day. The apartment is fine, please, don't worry about it."

"But...I left the bathroom~"

"I don't care about it. Honest. I want you to feel welcome here; I want it to be your home. Home should feel lived in." Quinn leaned forward to kiss you yet you frown. You still felt so bad for everything not being done like you wanted it to be. "If you're here, that's all I want."

"You're so nice," you squeak out, hiding your face with your free hand. You don't realize you were breaking his heart, feeling so bad about missing your self-imposed marks.

"Sweetheart, will you look at me, please?"

Dropping your hand, you let your eyes be exposed though you keep it pressed to your lips.

"You're the only thing I care about when I'm here. If you're okay, I'm okay."

"But I'm not okay."

"And I'm not either. May I finish this for you?" His smile was so sweet, so heartfelt as he held your injured hand in both of his. When you answered "yes, please" Quinn brought it to his lips before finishing what he had started. With each new step of the process, he'd check in with you before continuing. He didn't feel that you had any glass in the wound or that you needed stitches, but he didn't want you to do too much the next few days.

"Alright, babe, all done."

"Thank you."

"Of course. Anything for you," his smile continues. "How about you go change your clothes, get into something comfortable and we'll have a lazy evening in bed. I'll get the groceries put away and we'll order take out. How's that?"

"Do you want some help?"

"No babe, I can get it. It won't take me that long, but thank you. I'll meet you in there, okay?"

"Okay." You give him a kiss as a thank you, later apologizing for your mild breakdown earlier.

"It's alright. You're only human, sweetheart and you had a bad day. I can't say I'd do much better. I'd never judge you for anything like that," Quinn replies, holding your face for another kiss. "I promise."

#so sorry you're having a bad day - anon #I hope this helps a little #quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes one shot #quinn hughes fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey fanfiction #hockey oneshot #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl one shot #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction

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rosamariaa · 2 hours ago

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Such a good interpretation, I’ve never noticed that he refers to his own son as “it” that scene and it also made me think about how it doesn’t matter that Remus was a “lucky” werewolf that had the opportunity to go to hogwarts and also had friends that not only accepted him but LOVED him, the hatred against werewolves in the wizarding world still impacts him immensely. We have great parallels here…

I think the only thing I disagree with is by the end in the whole “he could only talk about himself” In the mirror, I think it’s the opposite actually. It’s not about himself its about teddy. That fight with harry seemed to be a turning point for remus and he really felt the “so you are going to abandon your son?” (As he should) and so I think that even after dying he was worried and hoping that teddy knows that in the end he wasn’t abandoned, not by choice. That teddy doesn’t grow up thinking he wasn’t loved because his parents will never be there to tell him so. This hits much deeper to remus considering he did try to leave him. So yeah I think between harry and his own son he will bring up teddy and to me it would be terrible if he didn’t jdjfjsjeudj

Also randomly remembered this but you are not the first person that talks about how remus doesn’t “repay” his friends’ love to him because he refuses to get close to harry and he suspected sirius, I understand where it came from but also it feels a bit weird because by that logic sirius is also “in debt” with him since he also suspected remus and also almost made him kill a student against his will. And in the end it feels like relationships is a big transaction

i wish we talked more about remus in DH bc it’s such a fascinating, crucial piece of characterisation that is glossed over 99% of the time

i have read literal thousands of fics and never once have i seen it even obliquely referenced

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casuallivi · 2 days ago

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The Midnight Kiss

I’ve been a sad bitch and the almost nothings that I managed to write were reflecting it terribly. I want to be a happy bitch again and finish a quirky romcom that does not evolve to sad-town-fest. Pray for me and my constancy, godspeed to us all. This is the farthest I’ve ever came writing solos-turned-multichapter. Amazing and wtf.

Warning: mentions of anxiety and self-harm and infuriating blonds.

Enjoy. Comments are welcomed and cherished :)

Part 8: 500 days of Azriel - part 1

Five hundred days.

The countdown of his life turning upside down took 500 days

And it was all because of her.

DAY 1

Truth be told Azriel Marino didn't mean to pay her any attention.

The thing is life can be unpredictable, even for a big planner like him, especially when this planner happens to be in constant contact with the most chaotic variant he had ever came across. Well, maybe it was a bit dramatic of him to define a person like that, but Elain Archeron was no regular person, so Azriel couldn’t help but compare her to a surprise variable disrupting the balance of his perfect life equation.

“Fuck!” The strangled curse resonated along with the emergency door hitting the wall. Agitated, Azriel shrugged his suit jacket, making his way to the building's stairwell.

The phone in his hand was ticking time bomb. He held it like a vice, like a nasty habit he couldn't seem to get rid of. Her photo on the screen shined like a beacon, a conductor to his own personal hell. Damn it. He should have erased her contact info by now, should have erase all possible traces of her.

Easier said than done.

Azriel stared at the photo she sent as if he was staring at Morrigan herself, stared at the empty bottle of wine by her side, her tear-stained cheeks and red stained lips doing nothing to distract him from the bunch of pills in her hand. Under the ominous picture laid four bubbles that made his stomach churn.

sometimes I want 2 sleep and never wake up Sorry 4 texting I love u bye Az

It had been an hour since he received the picture documenting Morrigan's latest threat of attempting suicide.

Then nothing.

No further picture, no more threatening messages, nothing. Complete silence from the woman who had been calling and texting nonstop all week after a photo like that was a bad sign. With a shaky hand, Azriel loosened his tie and scratched his throat, willing the air in and out.

I love u

The empty text float in his mind.

It's a lie, he reminded himself. It's always a lie.

There was no coming back from the break up this time. Not for him. Whatever she chose to do or not do was out of his hands now. He had played this part one too many times to know nothing good would come from bending to her.

Scrunching his eyes shut, Azriel pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself. He hated this feeling, the cruel fait of being responsible for Mor's life, the constant balance of her existent being put in the palm of his hands.

It’s fake, he mentalized. It’s fake like all the other ones.

But what if it wasn’t?

Shaking, he dialed her number.

Azriel didn't know if it was worry or deep resented anger that gave his hand tremors. Deep down he knew what she was doing. This wasn’t his first rodeo with Mor. Facetimes in the middle of the night, hysterical crying on his hallway, pictures of knifes and ropes over her bed, long goodbye emails that he should’ve not read, but couldn’t help doing so. So far, Mor had used a lot of cruel ways to razzle him into taking her back, and Azriel was so fucking done with this shit.

Still, having someone texting you the equivalent of a suicide note was frightening. Why hadn't she reached him again? What if she had gone through with it this time? What if she hurt herself? Azriel ran a hand through his hair.

The call didn't go through, panic slowly seeping through his bones.

Who was he kidding? Azriel would never be able to leave Morrigan. They have been together too long, been through too much. It was too late for him to try and leave her now, too late to break this sickening connection between them.

On the verge of crying, he dialed her number again.

He could be stronger this time, firmer, just a long time friend checking on another. He could do this. He would just check on her, make sure that she was safe and unharmed, and them he–

“You drop that phone. Right! Now!”

The loud command caught him by surprise, Azriel turning back to the exit door. No one had come through, he was still alone on his floor.

“I cannot believe you’re calling this asshole again!” The same feminine voice reprehended.

He recognized her immediately, his ears well used to the high pitch that loved to start a fight with him, only it was a first seeing her using this tone with anyone else. Quietly, he approached the railing to get a better view from the floor below, watching his two employees fight like toddlers

“He called me all day! It’s rude to ignore.” Nuala screeched, pushing Elain’s head away.

“He’s buttering you up, your idiot,” Elain replied two second away from climbing her friend's back. “That’s how that piece of shit manipulates you!”

Jumping, she made failed attempt to grab the phone.

“He doesn’t manipulate me.” Nuala said in a defensive tone.

“Oh, please!”

“… Fine, maybe a little. But he loves me!”

“No he doesn’t. Give me the phone, Nu.”

“I will… I just need to call him real quick, it's the last time, I promise.”

Huffing, Elain placed both hands on her waist, glaring at her friend.

“You’re the one who asked me to guard you phone, remember?” She made a run for her friend, Nuala dodging her with easy. “I won’t let you get back with that walking trash!”

“I’m not trying to get back together.”

“Save the lies for someone who’ll believe you.”

“I’m serious. I just have check on him.”

“No, you don’t.”

“He was so sad Elain, he almost drunk himself to death!”

“That man was cheating on you, he can jump of a cliff an I won’t care! Give me the phone.”

“No.”

“Give it to me!”

“No!”

Azriel rolled his eyes watching them struggle like two toddlers battling for the best toy. The “fight” didn’t last long, not when Elain was willing to stick a wet finger in her friend’s ear to gain advantage. He didn't know whether to be impressed or disgusted with how far she was willing to go, and he wasn't the only one.

“Oh my God, you’re disgusting!” Nuala complained, rubbing her ear raw.

“And you are welcome.” Elain replied, turning the phone off and sticking it inside her shirt.

With a sigh, Nuala sat on the stair, hiding her head between her knees, the photographer soon following her steps, wrapping an arm around her friend. The scene seemed too personal for him to be watching, yet Azriel could not walk way without listening to all of it, not when he and Nuala seemed to have so much in commom.

Trying to give them a bit of privacy he turned his back to the railing and sat down. In normal circunstance he would never he sat in an unwkown dirty floor, but his day had been long, and Azriel was tired. The kinds of tiredness that reachs the soul. He did his best not to touch anything that wasn't necessarie.

“He will change," he heard Nuala reasoning. “He promised.”

“He always does, and he never changes. No one change for others, you know that.”

“What if he meant it this time?”

“What if he doesn’t?" A bit of silenced filled the staircase. "Will you spend the rest of your life catering for him? Being unhappy just to stay beside him?” At that, Nuala lifted her head. “Honey, that man doesn’t love. If he really loved you, he would not be terrorizing you, he wouldn’t hurt you, and he wouldn’t pretend to be hurt just to get your attention. You don’t do this to people you love Nuala.”

Nuala groaned, the weight of the words washing over her.

“If he doesn’t love me, why won’t he let me go?"

I know the feeling, Azriel thought on the upper floor.

"He has to love me at least a little bit, right?”

“You know why he won’t leave you alone? Because now that you dumped his useless ass he realized how much you did for him, how much easier you turned his life. In his mind, he can treat you as badly as he wants and you will never leave, because you don’t love yourself enough to leave, but you love him enough to stay even if it makes you unhappy.”

The women stayed silent for a while, Azriel absorbing the words that weren’t meant for him but might as well had been. To love someone more than you love yourself was a dreadful curse to carry.

“I miss him.”

Azriel paused, pensive. Did he missed Mor? Inside him there was long, a long he couldn't quite comprehend or classify. He was so tired of being manipulated and dismissed, so tired of being taken for granted, tired of being alone, still, Azriel missed being in love, and Morrigan was the only woman he had ever loved. But did he miss Mor? Azriel wasn't so sure anymore.

“I know, darling." Elain soothing voice found him again. "You won’t miss him forever, I promise. Give it time Nuala, it sounds cliché but time heals all things, it will heal you too, you’ll see.”

Another moment of silence, then,

"I think to have to keep my phone for a little longer.”

“I know.”

“Don’t let me call him.”

“I won’t.”

“Christ, I can’t believe I’m having a meltdown at work.”

“I know.” Elain laughed. “I’m so gonna make fun of you later. Come one, let’s get back. The busier you are, the less you’ll think about that waste of oxygen, come." Her voice began to feel further. "By the way, Nu, you should try Crushland, is a wonderful problem-solver.”

“And stay hidden behind plants to thirst after Cass? No, thank you.”

“Ugh, shut up. I told you I wasn’t hiding, I was passing by.”

“Sure you were.”

A door opened and closed and then the girls were gone, leaving Azriel behind. His phone rang, Morrigan’s name in capital letters screaming at him to pick up. He starred at it until the screen shut down again.

Turning his device off completely, Azriel stood. He rearrenged his tie, using the linen handkerchief safely tucked in his brest pocket to clean the dirt from hist pants. His eyes followed the material, suddely remembering this particular piece had been a gift from Mor. Azriel took a deep breath, ehxaling slowly, Elain's words replaying on his ming. The busier you are, the less you’ll think about that it. Usually, Azriel would be the first one to disagree with Elain. This time he hopped she was correct.

Reentering the halls of the building, Azriel discharged the handkerchief in the nearest bin, thinking back to the one piece of the conversation that he had not understood at all.

“What the fuck is crushland…” he muttered to himself.

DAY 185

There was a she he didn't want to think about.

And there was a she who would not leave his mind.

To Azriel Marino, Elain Archeron’s mind was a chaotic mess. Well, at least he supposed it was, since he was yet to see her having a linear line of thoughts or exhibit traits of an organized person. And he would know if she had, because Azriel had been paying a lot of attention to Elain since he accidently listen to her conversation.

Going against instinct was hard, but he tried his best to follow the stolen advices. Since that faitful day, Azriel reseted his phone without bothering to save any prior conversation, photo or information on it, switched numbers - both personal and professional - forced himself to develop a new distribution strategy to raise the number os sales, reached for a couple friends that he hadn't catch up with in years, and suspended Morrigan from the list of preaproved guests of his building.

The last action was proving to be a bit tricky since his brother lived on the same place in a different floor, Mor using the opportunit to pretend to visit Cassian and go bang straight on Azriel doors. To his credit he had been doind an excelent job of playing dead in these situation, but it was getting embarassing to pretend not being home when he was a grown asss adult. Should he move? Fuck.

The first days were rough, the suicide threat hunting his dreams. Azriel did his best not to fall, focusing in rebuilding his days without placing Mor at the center of his life, focusing his efforts in fully reviving the magazine instead. These days most of their revenue came from the digital market, but Azriel was determinate to ignite people's love for paper again. There was a certain finesse and class to the final result of a printed magazine that bright ipad screen couldn't compete with. The more he tried to revive this tradition, the less he found himself fixating about Mor.

From the confines of his office, he watched Elain's back as she worked editing some shots. Her advice was solid. Time was indeed a good healer, Azriel being the one that have never gave into it, not entirely. He wondered if she would be proud of how well he managed to follow her lead. Would she praise him? From his observations, Elain was the type to praise every trivial achievement her friends would share with her. Except for his. Not that he had ever shared anything with her. Elain and Azriel weren't friends.

He obsessed over the wrapper one last time, breathing in courage and marching to deliver it.

In his hands Azriel held a Remus 1.5x Full Frame Anamorphic 5 Lens Set all wrapped in pink. He had no inkling about professional lenses quality, but he had seen Elain daydreaming about this particular set once or twice, her computer screen stuck on the specs as she gushed to Nuala or Miguel about inumerous advantages only she seemed to follow. It is a working tool, he would say, to keep improving the magazine's quality.

Truth was the gift was a hidden thank you and a quiet peace offer.

Elain could be a mouthy thing with a questionable wardrobe and an inexplicable supply of energy for someone who disliked coffee, but over the last months Azriel learned that she was also insightful and very considerate, qualities he had failed to apreciate for they could never interact for long without fighting. During their weekly meeting Elain mostly kept to herself, scketing scenarios and playing with possible color gradientes as she dropped a terrible joke here and there, quickly associating which agencies would have the best catalog of models for the monthly issue, humming as she pinned the name to vision bord. When they were in the shooting set her other persona would come out, bossy and stern, not afraid to shout orders at anyone, not even him. Azriel was trying to learn not to interfere with her on set, still, he would razzle her sometimes, unable to stop himself from trying to be in control.

Once he stopped antagonizing her, Azriel realized their goal was the same: do a good job. That's why he suggested Cassian should hire Elain as their official photographer instead of keeping her as backcall freelancer. Elain was too good not to keep. And since she appeared to be a good friend to every one in this office, maybe, just maybe, he and Elain didn't have to be in each other's throat all the time. Maybe they could even be… well, not friends, he didn't know her personally enough for that, but they could be work colleagues. Good colleagues.

They had a couple traits in common, and Azriel was perfectly capable of using them to befriend her.

Or maybe he wasn't.

Azriel’s nose wrinkled on its on as he approached mess scatarred across the wood top that once upon a time, was a desk. Now old food wraps covered half of it, and so did empty cups (which were probably responsible for the stains on the wood); the other half was occupied by cut outs from magazines and multicolored folders, pictures of clothes, places and people that she would somehow turn into an idea.

A shiver ran down his spin, making him physicaly shake in place to get rid of it. His mind would never function properly in this kind of working space. Just thinking about putting his laptop on this desk made his skin crawl. Not surprisingly, her camera was the only item in a proper place, with no garbage nearby, safely secure in a bag and carefully placed on a lower shelf.

If there was one thing, Azriel knew about Elain was that she loved her camera.

And apparently, his brother.

Unaware of his presence, Elain hunched over her phone like a goblin, an old photograph of a shirtless Cassian posing by a waterfall occupying the entirety of her screen. If Elain was trying to be subtle about her crush, she was doing a terrible job of it. By now, he was sure everyone in this department knew she had a thing for his brother.

Well, she was a single woman and his brother was a single man... Still, Azriel didn't like the way her eyes would lite up around Cass, how easily they would slip into casualty and conversation, how she'd play with her hair and smile brightly at him, how her voice would be sweeter and higher than normal, or how they would share the same wave length for flirty jokes and heavily sexual innuendos. He hated those jokes. Hated that insufferable immodest bond that they seemed to share so effortlessly.

Why did they need to be laughing so much around each other? It was annoying and juvenile.

Sick of watching her ridiculous hobby, Azriel lowered himself till his lips were nearly touching the shell of her ear.

“Online stalking can also be considered a form of working harassment.”

Elain nearly jumped from her chair.

“Jesus Christ!” she squealed, holding her phone to her chest.

“Nope, just your boss. About to file an HR complain with you name on it.”

She rolled her eyes at him.

“You can’t complain about me, I wasn’t stalking you.”

“So you admit you were stalking.”

“I wasn’t stalking, it was a Facebook memory!” She defended herself, cheeks reds as a tomato.

Azriel watched her. Elain wasn’t the shy blushy type.

In fact, in all those months working with her he hadn’t saw her face red unless she was very angry (usually with him). Elain blushing was kind of… cute. Her heated cheeks matching the soft cherry blossom shade of her lips. Azriel was yet to see Elain with heavy make up on, her daily pattern cosisting in sunscreen, a bit of foundation and lots of gloss. He could tell her lips were the area she liked to play with the most, testing different shades of red and pink that seemed to match her mood. Sometimes they seemed the color of rose buds, sometimes they were closer to cherry red, most times they were glossy and sparkling, and sometimes he stared at them more than he should, so engrossed in the way they moved he forgot to pay attention to what she was saying. Like now.

"–and Cass befriend me," she continued. "Now facebook is reminding me that I accidently liked his old picture, and my phone died, and I couldn’t undo it, and he saw! Which was sooo embarrassing I wanted to die. When I explained he just laughed on my face and liked a really ugly picture of me from high school in return, but I’m not stalking your brother.”

Azriel simple staring at her.

Mistaking his silence for doubt, she repeated herself. “I’m not!”

For some unknown reason, knowing she was blushing because of his brother unsettled him. Azriel knew Cassian well. A girl like Elain: pretty, young, and full of fire, was like a flame ready to attract his moth of a brother. Cassian was fast to be interested in girls like her, and even faster to grew bored of them.

"Don’t let my brother fool you, Archeron. He’ll break your heart.”

A slight frown took over her features.

"I can take care of myself, Marino."

"If you say so."

His mood soured.

Pulling a couple napkings from his pocket, Azriel pushed a few cups aside, cleaning a spot on the desk where he unceremoniously placed the gift upon, not bothering to explain what it was or what was it for, Elain's frown going from annoyed to confused as she watched him dissapair back into his office.

One minute latter her scream filled the entire floor, a scream followed by,

"Thank you, Marino! Thank you! I'll preserve it and use it wisely! Thank you!!!!"

Azriel bit a smile down, too perturbed by his own emotions to enjoy her reaction properly.

That day he realized something important about himself.

Something somewhat unsettling.

In his arduous quest to forget Morrigan, Azriel found himself thinking of a different woman entirely, a woman he had no business paying attention to, a woman infatuated with his brother. A woman who, unknown to himself, had began to drawn him to her crazy way of seeing the world, beguiling him to do something he had never done in his life.

Beguiling him act on a whim.

DAY 309

"When the clock strike midnight, I'll leave this old pinning Elain behind and make out with the first man that looks my way." Elain announced puffing her chest.

If someone asked him what possessed him to meddle in Elain's imaginary love life, he wouldn’t be able to tell. And if someone had told him her love life would turn into his love life, he would have laugh himself hoarse. But there he was, kissing her instead.

His fingers twisted in her hair and Azriel felt Elain growing lax against him, the frailest of whimpers escaping her throat as his tongue slid inside her mouth, the passionate slow kiss they shared at the strike of fireworks announcing midnight making his heart pound and his head throb.

He pulled away first, slight embarrassed by how rusted his tempo was, his breath frenetic and out of place as he struggled to fill his lungs with air. Elain didin't seem to care, chasing him closer as his head moves away. Azriel kept her at bay, the fist tightly wound in her hair holding her back. To calm himself he kissed her jawline; once, twice, thrice, his breath still erratic, agitated. For fucks sakes, why was he feeling so frenetic from kissing while seated?! God, his was out of shape. A kiss to a pulsing vein on her throat and Azriel came back to earth. He had descendent more than he meant, more than it was appropriated for a couple in an open public space.

His mind was a whirlwind of chaos and something very unexpected; want. Want hited him out of nowhere. The reality of what he’s done sinking in. He kissed Elain. He had kissed Elain Archeron and he liked it. Slowly, he disentangles his fingers from her hair, putting distance between their bodies, the soft hand with manicured nails, that were twisting the front of his shirt, letting him go, dropping back to her lap.

"Feeling in love yet?" the words are barely out of his mouth before he’s making a constipated expression. Jesus, Cassianism was beginning to rub on him.

The insult doesn’t land quite right with his voice coming out way breathier than before. Shit. The kiss was supposed to be a provocation. Azriel intended to give her a peck and prove her so called 'resolution' was bullshit.

Once again her crazy rambling appeared to be constructed on solid base, the young mouthy brat proving she was way more experienced in understanding relationships than him, even he was the only one between that had 10 years of experience to acount for.

When he approached Elain's lonely sullen self on the beanbag Azriel handn't meant to kiss her. Misery was the emotion bringing them close, not lust!

I'll just warn her off, he had told himself, simply console her that Cassian wasn't that big of a loss, that migling with him would amount to anything big in the end. Despite their constant disagreements, Elain was hardworking and passionate about her job, and Azriel would hate to lose an efficient employee because his brother couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. A pretty lie his mind carved to give him an excuse to approach her. Seeing Morrigan on his brother's arms was a blown on his progress of forgeting her, and no one here but Elain would be able pro properly share that misery with him.

Azriel was already miserable with himself for waking up sharing a hotel bed with Mor on the night before. In his defense, he had no idea how that happened. Fucking hell, one minute he was visiting a new pub with a friend, the next she was there in his face. He ignored her the best he could, drinking more than he should, his low tolerance for alcohol soon making his wasted. He remember Caleb called calling a cab, hands helping him inside the car, flashes on the elevator and her. No matter how loudly he reprehended or pushed her she did not bulgde.

No matter how hard he tried, Azriel could not remember bedding her, but the evidence was there, their clothes scattered across the room, his coat hung over some chair, a used condom beside his shoe. Fucking idiot, that's what he was. So much effort. So much effort for fucking nothing. No, he would not go down this road again.

It's fine, he thought pulling his pants on, it was a slip, a mistake he would not do again. From now on if he happen to frequent the same space as her Azriel would leave. Being confrontational have never worked with her, Morrigan's habilites to bend him surprising even Azriel. And then she appeared dating his fucking brother not even 24 hours aftwards, the same smiling idiot brother who claimed to have been dating her for months now.

His life was joke.

And so was Elain's.

She didn't know it, but Azriel had watched her pathetic attempt to confess her feelings after the Christmas party, feelings way to pure to be wasted on his heartless brother.

When Elain said her drunken goodbyes and waddled to the elevator, Azriel sat his drink aside and followed on the next one. He doubt she would be able to catch a cab by herself. Turned out she didn't have too, because Cassian had reached her before him, his tall frame nearly hidding Elain from view, a mass of honey curls peeking from his left side.

"I like you," she grabed the front of his shirt for support. "Lainy, don't do this." "Like, really, reaally like you... I think about you all the time." “Oh Lainy, this wouldn’t work.” His brother's voice disperse from where he stood untangling her fingers from the hand-painted shirt Elain had gifted him as secret santa. “We could try," she began shyly, nose red and eyes gliterry from champaign, her own gift - a knitted red scarf, wrapped around her neck. "You don't know it yet, but I'm a great girlfriend," she hiccuped slightly, "I can twerk on it." "You mean swear on it?" "That too." Cassian laughed. "I wouldn't work," he repeted. "Why not?" “You seem like a flowers and chocolate kind of girl, and I don't do flowers and chocolate." Elain was silent for a moment, thinking. "What if I'm lactose intolerant? I won't need that." Cassian ruffed a laugh. "You eat dairy all the time." "Uuurgh, what's wrong with flowers and chocolate? Everybody likes them." "I don't. They bore me. We're better like this, it's not everyday a tight little thing like you has a sense of humor, let's not mess that up, huh. Enough talking now, you're a goner. Give me your phone, I'll uber you."

If his love history with Morrigan wasn't so chaotic, Azriel would have notice that normal Cassian would never have pass to chance to have easy sex with a girl infatuated with him. But his love life sucked and Azriel did not notice, too busy moping about his latest stupid choice as he watched Cassian parading around and introducing Morrigan as his girlfriend, making him feel shittier than ever. Not only he had crawled back into her arms willingly, he had also betrayed his brother.

Fuck his life.

His phone blipped, an incoming message from an unsaved number.

Meet me at mine in 40 minutes.

And now she had his number again.

Fuck his life twice.

When did she get his number? Damn it. He stared at the other texts ignores throgh the day.

why did u leave??? we need to talk call me back enough is enough az i think the condom broke, call me asap

Nothing had broken, and he sure as hell was not calling her. She had used that excuse to reach him before, more than once, which was why he make sure to check it before leaving the hotel. A small hive of bees stabed his spine. He need to leave her presence that instant. Sighing, Azriel took Elain's hand and darted inside de house, searching for an empty room, having to make do with a filthy bathroom when he found none, wandering into another demented conversation with Elain before he could get to the point he wanted.

Her countdown speech had been stupid, but he was out of good ideas to try, and hell would be damned if he would crawl back to Morrigan again.

"Listen, I have a proposition to you. You want to get over my brother, and I want to get over her. I hate to admit, but that crazy talk about a lover might be exactly what I need to move on. What we need. So, instead of doing weird things with strangers, let's help each other, let's date and move on." The words poured out of him fast, courage threatening to leave at any moment.

Elain just stood there, paralyzed, silent, eyes big as saucers. Azriel had no memory of ever seeing her so quiet, but a yappy Elain going mute probably wasn't a good sign.

"Date me, Elain. Date me and I'll date you."

"Why - why me?" She asked in a small voice. "You say you don't hate me, but you don't like me either. We are not friends."

Good, a question. He could work with questions. Azriel was great with quizzes.

"I'm not my brother, I don't like one-nights, it's impersonal and I detest strangers in my space. It's hard for me to connect with people I don't know. You, I know you - you get on my nerves, but that’s just who you are as a person, I've learned to live with that. And kissing you... I enjoyed kissing you more than I anticipated.”

Her eyes cast down, cheeks growing warmer at the mention of their kiss. Azriel kissed her there, right on the bright pink cheek, starting close to her ear to make a line till the corner of her mouth where he nib the skin with intent, his nose desapearing in her soft flesh.

"You said to do different, right?"

She agreed wordlessly.

"Could you imagine me having a heart-to-heart, in a filthy bathroom, with you, of all people? This is me doing different."

Gently, he grabbed both sides of her face and kissed her again, pouring all his attention in Elain and Elain only.

Azriel wouldn't lie, their midnight kiss had been awkward at first, stiffy. Azriel wasn't used to kissing someone he had never managed to maintain a civilized conversation with. Truth be told, Azriel wasn't used to kiss anyone that was not Mor. Once the initial shock waved out, Azriel found himself enjoying the kiss, quickly learning the way Elain liked to be kissed, gently angling her head when their noses bumped, hissing at the sharp nib of teeth sinking in his bottom lip, goosebumps rising as her tongue moved over it to soothe the pain, moving slowly over his tongue next.

Kissing Elain was like nothing he had ever done; kissing her was impulsive, electric... disrupting. It made he feel… something, the sparkle of a feeling that had been dormant for so long he didn't know how to name it anymore. Passionate hands closed round his neck and hair, a sharp tug urging him to move where she wanted, guiding the kiss to her liking.

Elain kissed Azriel as if he was the last man to love in the world, kissed him as if she would never want to kiss anyone else. And Azriel found himself liking that very much.

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