#i really loved the idea of writing different tasks on different seasons

[coolnonsenseworld]

Anyone remembers when these were stickers, that turned into a Memo-Pad project that didn't come to life djdjd. Four seasons + Infinity memos is something I would still love to do one day, but the Infinity part is gotta be enough for now. 

You can currently pre-order it in the shops as part of the space series! 

Direct link: for USD or for EUR 

All links: linktr.ee/mezzy 

[skibasyndrome]

I'm about to throw all my academic values overboard to get this fucking article done

[runnning-outof-time]

I’m (Not) Alright with a Slow Burn | Tommy Shelby x Reader headcanons

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader (headcanons)

Summary: How Tommy would go about being stuck in a slow burn with someone he's falling for.

Warnings: mention of death of grandmother, slight season 2 spoilers

Word Count: 2537

A/N: I really enjoyed this request! umm…I’m not sure if these are 100% written like headcanons - I wrote them like I was spewing out ideas lol. Kacey Musgraves’s song Slow Burn was also running through my head while I was writing this, hence the title. Also how the hell do you actually spell headcanons?? Is there 1 ‘n’ or 2?? Lol . Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you want to be tagged!

• (Y/N) was one of the few Shelby Company Ltd. employees that Tommy didn't hire. She was brought on board while he and the boys were off at one of the races. Polly saw the potential in her and immediately welcomed her into the company.

• when Tommy returned from said races, he was pleasantly surprised to meet her.

• and Polly clocked that immediately. She was able to tell by the lack of a fight - Tommy was always able to find something to pick at when she made decisions within the company, no matter how minuscule. But there was nothing to pick at with (Y/N).

• Polly also wasn't surprised to see (Y/N) completing more and more tasks that came directly from Tommy. They'd be tasks that Polly hadn't even known about...but for some reason Tommy trusted (Y/N) with them.

• (Y/N) didn't think anything different about it. She'd been hired into the company and one of her bosses was asking her to do things. That's what was supposed to happen, right?

• although she did find it odd that it was Tommy asking her to do these things when she'd originally been hired to help Polly with sorting out the books and the like.

• things persisted like that for a few months. (Y/N) would happily and eagerly help him with whatever he needed to have done around the company. He'd look out for her, making sure that she was happy in her position and just in general. And in return, (Y/N) would (try) to keep up the same for him. She'd show that in the smallest of ways and attempts, but he would notice. Over those few months and because of those small acts, Tommy's thoughts and feelings towards (Y/N) evolved.

• he can still remember the day when that switch began - because it haunted him every day after.

• she came into his office like it was any other day for her...but it wasn't any other day for Tommy.

• he'd been working under Campbell for a few weeks at that point, and it'd become apparent that he'd be dead at the end of the arrangement. Tommy wasn't afraid to die, but the thought of getting everything in order and making sure his family could go on without him was now plaguing his mind.

• so when (Y/N) asked him what he had for her to do today, Tommy rattled off his list without as much as looking up at her. He was fully expecting her to turn and exit the second he finished speaking.

• she didn't. Silence reigned for a moment or two before "are you ok, Tommy?" came quietly from her. This made Tommy look up, and when he did, all of the noise in his mind ceased. Sure he looked at her before - he'd looked up like this thousands of times, but he never saw her like he did when he looked up this time. It was this otherworldly experience that he'd only been through twice before. Which meant he knew exactly what was happening.

• even though he brushed her question off and told her that he was fine, he hoped that things wouldn't change between them.

• and thankfully they didn't because hell, Tommy Shelby was certain that he was falling in love.

• he began testing the waters carefully at first. (Y/N) was a good woman and he wasn't about to make her leave the company due to his actions. He couldn't stand to lose her.

• so he started by making sure she was being heard; by actually listening to her whenever she'd share ideas or tell him how things played out with what he'd asked her to do.

• then he emphasized making sure that she was safe - having blinders on her block, sticking around on the days where she and Polly would be in the shop tallying the winnings, and also personally offering to take her wherever she needed to go.

• (Y/N) reacted bashfully to these offers. She felt that the other company employees would think that she was getting special treatment or something — well...she kind of was...but she deeply appreciated Tommy doing these things.

• in regards to feelings, Tommy was putting his out there as best as he could (which, well I'll let you be the one to decide on how well that is) He really tried to make a more personal connection with her; to get to know her as her and not just another employee...and in turn he let her know him.

• (Y/N) stayed professional. He was one of her bosses after all. But she couldn't deny that she enjoyed being in his presence. Her friends found that crazy, too...how can she be happy to be spending time with Tommy Shelby? She swore it off as strictly work related until she couldn't anymore.

• the evening started like any other...(Y/N) went home after work with the intention of doing what she did every other evening. But something was waiting for her at home. Something that turned her world upside-down. She found out that her grandmother had passed away. The post had come and one of the letters was from a sibling of hers, sharing the news. She didn't know what to do.

• after exhausting all of her options, she found herself at the Garrison. Tommy had invited her there in the past, but she never accepted it due to wanting to stay professional.

• she asked around for him and the second she found out that he was in the snug, she made her way to it and opened the door. He was in there, but so were his brothers. "This was the last place I could think of," she blurted out. "Everyone out," was all Tommy needed to say before it was just the two of them in the room.

• (Y/N) quickly sat and let everything out. Tommy listened intently, something no one had ever done for her in the past. They sat in the snug for hours, (Y/N) talking and Tommy listening. Her ability to share her grandmother's story helped her immensely.

• from that evening, (Y/N) saw Tommy in a different light. The fact that he sat and listened to her as she lamented to him and not once did he even think of leaving meant the world to her. No one had shown her that sort of worthiness or attention.

• all at once it felt like she was head over heels for him. Like all of those little instances he'd shown her before had all culminated into this one, major display of devotion. It had her realizing that maybe it wasn't solely because she was his employee...maybe it was much more than that.

• and so when he went out of his way and made sure to check on her the next morning - she knew this because Polly commented on the fact that he was supposed to be in London by sun-up - and he couldn't get him off of her mind no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't beat around the bush anymore...she'd fallen for Tommy Shelby, hard.

• but things didn't hit off right from that moment.

• no, it took a rather long time for those feelings to actually come out.

• there was a lot of dancing around the other - the smaller gestures and moments still occurred, but neither one was willing to make that jump over the edge and confront the other about it.

• yes, you read that right...Tommy Shelby was actually keeping his feelings for her close to the chest.

• mostly it was because of the position they were in. He'd offer to take her to dinner and she'd politely decline (even though she really wanted to go) because she was worried the other company employees would suspect something.

• Tommy wasn't exactly into the dancing around it (he hated it at times actually), but he honored her choice.

• but that doesn't mean he wasn't taking every chance he got to spend time around her. To check in on her and see how things were. To walk her home if she stayed later. Anything to show her that he was serious...without actually saying that he was serious.

• he was hooked on her though, there was no doubt about it. All he needed was for her to really show that interest back to him, and then he'd know for sure that he could act on it.

• and then Polly's birthday came.

• the company/family decided to host a party at the Garrison. Of course (Y/N) was invited.

• a man named Louis was one of the men who worked the shop floor daily. He saw (Y/N) almost every day that she was also on the floor, and he made it a point to seek her out as well.

• much like with Tommy, (Y/N) kept things between her and Louis strictly professional.

• but this party is when Louis decided that he was going to make his move...to try and woo her.

• maybe he should have thought this through...

• (Y/N) was sitting at one of the tables, chatting with some of the other women who worked within the company. It was a surprise that she wasn't with Tommy, considering he sought her out almost immediately after she arrived. But Tommy was still present though.

• Louis had this plan to put everything right on the table. He smoothly walked over to her and, equally as smoothly, slipped into the booth that she was sitting in. (Y/N) was polite, but it was obvious that she wasn't feeding any more into it than a simple, friendly conversation.

• but of course Tommy didn't pick up on that. From where he was standing it looked like Louis was a little too close to her for comfort. So he quickly intervened.

• and he was anything but subtle with it. He was quickly able to make Louis feel uneasy and clear him out.

• (Y/N)'s confused, but happy to have the man she'd hardly talked to gone. She sends Tommy an appreciative smile and that's just about enough to bring Tommy to his knees. But that doesn't happen...instead he gives her one of his signature, lop-sided smiles and nods at the ladies sitting with her before going back to where he previously was.

• this interaction didn't go unnoticed though. Polly and Ada were watching from off to the side. These two know Tommy better than anyone, and they've rarely seen him react this quickly and in this sort of way. So it's glaringly apparent to them that something's going on here.

• and this becomes increasingly apparent as time goes on.

• also as time goes on, (Y/N) manages to move up in the company. She's basically right underneath Polly in terms of power, becoming her 'right hand man’ in the treasurer position.

• having this position means that she's more involved in the inner circle and is at all of the meetings.

• the entire family swears by the fact that Tommy is softer with her than he is with anyone else.

• you can literally see the change the second she shares her thoughts on a matter or even enters a room. The switch is practically on a dime.

• but these two keep dancing around each other - they've been doing it for close to a year at this point.

• and those who know of it are baffled. They are obviously in love with each other...why hasn't one budged and made things official?

• the suspicions on this topic all come to a climax on the first year anniversary of (Y/N) joining the company.

• Tommy invites her out to dinner. (Y/N) agrees this time mostly because she knows what day it is...and she knows that the Shelbys like to celebrate such things.

• but she's surprised when she arrives at the upscale restaurant and is escorted to a table for two. Tommy can't help but smile at the face she pulls when she sees that he's sitting there, waiting for her.

• but she gets comfortable very quickly. It's Tommy we're talking about here...she's never been more comfortable with anyone in her life if she was being honest. And the same goes for him too.

• the dinner lasts hours. They talk about everything and anything. Work's off the table, but yet they still manage to not have more than a moment of silence. Both are surprised at how freely the conversation flows.

• eventually Tommy brings up the subject they've been dancing around.

• he lays everything out on the table this time. There's no sense in holding back. He tells her how she makes him feel, how she's made him feel from the moment he first saw her.

• he also mentions the fact that he's felt this way for a while now, and that he can't continue dancing around it any longer. He honored her desire to stay professional for this time, but he wants her too much, loves her too much to keep going like this for even a day longer.

• at first (Y/N)'s shocked. She's not oblivious...she'd been catching the little hints that he'd been leaving all this time, but she was truthfully too hesitant to ever bring the subject up to him.

• but now that he's put it out there, she figures why should she hold back her feelings any longer?

• so she lays it all out for him as well. Tells him how she feels about him, how she's felt about him for some time now.

• Tommy can't contain his happiness as he hears this. He's grinning like a fool.

• so really there's only one last thing for them to do now...make it official.

• Tommy wastes no time in doing that.

• he asks her properly though. That's what she deserves, especially after all this time that's been invested.

• he stops them just down the road from where she lives. He tells her that he really likes her (he won't use the 'l word' just yet - even though the two of them are so clearly in love) and that he can't wait a moment longer to make her his.

• (Y/N) quickly agrees with the sentiment after everything that had been shared during their dinner.

• Tommy can't help but smile at her response, and he just barely nods his head in his Tommy fashion before continuing to walk her home.

• they share their first kiss at the front door, and it's absolutely magical.

• they then proceed to do a terrible job of hiding it while at work. Tommy's waited this long to be with her, he's not going hide his affection for her any longer.

• their definition of 'in secret' is soooo far from the actual definition. They think that they're being sneaky, only stealing kisses in empty hallways and in Tommy's office, but it takes Polly literally only two days to catch onto it.

• no ones upset with it though. Honestly everyone’s happy that they’re finally together.

• well everyone except Louis…Louis is a little bummed about the whole thing. But Tommy and (Y/N) don’t care about that in the slightest.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[irisintheafterglow]

(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)🌷✨🩷🍪 Greetings Author-nim

Can I please request (⁠^⁠_⁠^⁠メ⁠)

(OPLA Zoro x You) Where Reader is an Assassin or Ninja and is a Pirate hunter, When Zoro used to be one too, they would always compete who gets the target first. Sometimes Zoro wins, sometimes reader.

So, imagine Reader's reaction when they saw Zoro with the crew.

And also, Luffy, somehow by some miracle with his own style of talk-no-jutsu managed to convince reader to join them(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

(⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥. Hope u have a great day and it's okay if u don't want to do this. I'll understand.

baby, let the games begin

wc: 2k (surprise, shawty)

cw/tags: gn!reader, swearing, canon-typical violence, mentions of drinking and alcohol, pining pining pining pining PINING

note: hi love, thank you so much for your request!! i hope you like this because i certainly love writing for this stupid himbo man

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

Honor be damned, you really wanted to kill him. 

“Dirty play, demon,” you huff irritatedly, scowling at the asshole who skewered your target before you could. In a single clean slash, the head is relieved of its body and unceremoniously kicked into a bag. “We both know that one was mine.”

“Better luck next time.” Asshole. Stupid, selfish, infuriatingly attractive asshole. A million different ways you could end his life flashed through your mind and, with his back turned to you, became more of a possibility the longer you sat in your disappointment. The dock creaks beneath his receding footsteps and you spit a curse under your breath. The head now bouncing around in the pirate hunter’s hand would have had you living comfortably for months, not to mention buying some shelter for the stray dogs wandering your home island. Monsoon season was coming and you didn’t have nearly enough space to keep all of them dry. Finding food that wasn’t old bread and horse balls was hard in itself and shelter was just another task added to the to-do list. “You’re not gonna try and take it from me?” 

“Why would I? You killed him; you get the bounty,” you reply scornfully, praying that whoever came up with the idea of hunter’s honor is torn to shreds by an octopus. “Guess it is your turn,” you concede reluctantly and take note of the blood dripping from the dirty fabric sack as he reapproaches. You’d have to clean your shoes when you were done. “I did take that guy from you in Flamingo Village, last week.” 

“The one with the big, ugly hat,” he confirms and you don’t budge when he stands right in front of you. He had pretty eyes, you’d give him that. Too bad you wanted to slam your fist into his nose. “I was mad about that one.”

“Well, you got this one. Aren’t you gonna cash ‘em in?”

“I will. I’m just curious,” he says and his expression is unreadable. It bordered on amusement and suspicion with a little bit of awe. “You could have killed me a million times since I killed the target.” Already thought that, buddy. “Why didn’t you?”

“Like I said, hunter’s honor–”

“No,” he shakes his head decidedly and you narrow your eyes. “You’ve been following this guy for four days, watching other hunters fail to bring him in. My question is, why do you need this bounty so badly, and why aren’t you willing to kill me over it?”

“Technically, that’s two questions,” you deadpan and your heart does an unwanted little stutter when he scoffs, the tiniest smile pulling at his mouth. “If you really wanna know why I need it, it’s ‘cause I need to take care of some friends back home.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but you also didn’t need the most feared hunter in the seas knowing that you needed the money to buy squeaky toys and dog beds. 

“Those friends aren’t worth killing for?”

“It’s sounding like you want me to kill you,” you fire back incredulously. “Do I need to worry about you, Zoro?” 

“Look, all I’m saying is, all other hunters would be leaping at my throat as soon as I take their kill. I just don’t understand why you won’t, especially if it’s worth four days of stalking.” 

“Maybe I like playing this little game,” you admit. It’s no secret to you that your job becomes incredibly boring at times. All the other hunters you come across take their jobs too seriously and believe that they’re purging the seas of evil. You, however, knew that the real evil was pacing around ivory towers and putting up the wanted posters. When you first met Zoro, it seemed like he didn’t take his job seriously at all. He killed like it was breathing and remained unamused at the melodramatic theatrics of flashier hunters. You ran into each other often because, besides being the only ones who survive their hunts, you were the top-earning hunters of your generation and ended up following the same pace every time. “I take a bounty; you take a bounty. I try to beat the pirate hunter at his own game; he throws a fit when I’m faster than him.”

“But, today I was faster than you,” he corrects and you stick your tongue out at him in defiance. “Who’s throwing a fit now?”

“Get out of my sight, demon,” you frown but you can’t hold it for long. It becomes a tired, melancholy smile and you start to make your way back to the town to book passage home. “Hope you enjoy all that Berry.” 

“Let me buy you a drink with it before you go,” he calls after you and you freeze where you stand. “Consolation for kicking your ass this time around.” You shoot him a scathing look over your shoulder and take the bait. 

“I did all the dirty work for you, asshole, so it better be three drinks at the least.” He chuckles softly under his breath and you roll your eyes, letting him catch up to you before heading to the nearest bar together. “I hate you so much.” 

“No, you don’t.”

As time passed and you ran into him more during your hunts, that hatred turned into something different, an annoying feeling of excitement every time you heard a sword unsheathed or spotted someone with green hair. You found yourself checking your watch when you were ahead of him, counting down the hours until he caught up. You knew the sound of his footsteps and the rhythm of his breathing and memorized how the sun hit his eyes down to the iris. Sometimes, you’d work with him directly and split the bounty evenly once it was completed. During conversations to kill time, though he never admitted it, he liked being around you as often as he was. Eventually, you told him about your furry friends back on the island and started marking the places you’d been with a hasty drawing of a dog. It became part of your routine and the time that it took for him to catch up to you decreased exponentially as a result. You’re easier to follow, is what he said. On a particular mission where you were unusually behind, you were delighted to find his gross attempt at mimicking the mark scratched into the wooden bar counter. 

You lose touch with him after a year or so of working together and you don’t expect it to hurt as much as it did. Word floated around that he was captured by Marines and posted up in Shells Town, but the same mouths reported that he escaped with pirates the following day. None of it sounded like him and it reminded you that you really didn’t know him at all. Still, you marked that silly dog into every barstool and backdoor you came across as you fell back into the same boring routines. 

Taking a rest day at a floating restaurant called Baratie, you think you’ve found the perfect spot to scratch into the counter when you realize that someone has already done it for you. It was horrendous and nearly incomprehensible, but you choke back a sob when you run your thumb over the mangled wood. There was only one person who could have drawn the little dog so badly.

And it’s like your body senses him before your mind does. 

In an instant, you’re hyper fixated on the familiar rhythm of his boots and the soft noise as his swords clank together with every step. There are four others with him, but you know his approach like the back of your hand. A boy in a straw hat whom you recognize from wanted posters rushes the bar, loudly requesting a glass of milk for himself and the finest rum for his swordsman companion. When he slides into the seat next to you, you can barely look at him, rendered defenseless from the conflict of emotions stirring in your mind. Thousands of questions were screaming to be answered but you couldn’t even open your mouth. The alcohol in your half-finished glass is all you can see. 

“You found me,” he murmurs, flagging down the bartender and asking for a bottle of whatever you’re drinking.

“I wasn’t looking for you,” you reply just as quietly, watching his hand carefully replenish your glass before filling his own and downing it in a few swallows. You stop him from pouring another with a light hand on his shoulder and he wordlessly sets down the bottle, making you smile softly. “You still drink too much.”

“I don’t have you to slow me down,” he replies without hesitation, glancing at your fingertip as it traces the mark he made on the wood. “I’ve been putting those everywhere since I joined up with Luffy. Figured we’d run into each other at some point.” 

“Luffy,” you echo. “That’s your pirate captain?” The irony of your situation escapes neither of you. If you were smart, you’d have every single one of them dead and bouncing around a burlap sack, just like the pirate all those years ago. But, just the same as the first time, you were stopped by a profound desire to be closer to Zoro. 

“He’s not like other pirates. Not like the ones you and I know.” 

“I’ll let the Marines know next time I bring in a head, then,” you laugh humorlessly, feeling the rum burn down your throat when you take another sip. You feel his eyes watching you carefully but you don’t look back at him. “I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to hear that.”

“They don’t have to hear anything,” he says in a low tone, one that sends goosebumps up your spine and has your heart beating a little faster. “They don’t have to hear anything from you ever again.”

“You’re not saying…”

“That's exactly what I’m saying.” 

“You want me to just switch sides like it’s nothing?”

“This job has been nothing to you from the beginning, nothing but a way to feed strays that, thanks to you, have loving homes,” he reminds you and you exhale deeply. He was right, but part of you wanted vengeance for all the times you secretly wished he was still with you. “So, come with me.”

“Zoro, I–”

“You know, I’ve missed you so much I can’t sleep,” he shakes his head and sighs in defeat. “Every time we dock at a new city, I’m hoping you’re on a hunt because, as much as I care for them, they’ll never know me the way you do.” He looks back at his crew with something like sad fondness in his eyes. They wouldn’t ever know him the way you did, as a bounty hunter with no real place to call home and no real people to call friends. “It gets lonely when you’re not forced to be alone anymore.”

“And it’s lonely when you are forced to,” you add. “It’s lonely either way–”

“But I’d rather be that way with you,” he concludes. “It’s not bad when I’m with you.” You pause, collecting your thoughts and calculating how much money you’d have if you suddenly abandoned your current line of work. It was risky, sure, but something about risking it on Zoro made it feel a little less dangerous. “Your silence tells me I convinced you.”

“I’m not the one you need to convince; it’s your captain you should be talking to.”

“Trust me, he’s the least of our problems.” As if to drive home his point, a choir of cheers rises up from behind you as a loud belch sounds through the harbor. 

“‘Our’ as in the crew, or ‘our’ as in you and I?”

“It’s always been you and I, hasn’t it?”

“It always will be,” you promise, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. He’s warm and safe and everything you were needing. “But, I need to teach you how to draw a better dog.” He hums in agreement, downing another glass contentedly. 

“Yeah, you need to teach me how to draw a better dog.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[randombush3]

you made your mark on me

mapi león x reader

summary: you fuck up the arrangement

words: 2497

notes: it’s kinda rushed and sad but we move and we allow it 😜

also i’ve decided that i like mapi and ingrid too much to write for them because they’re too perfect 😩😩😩😩

requested by my fav @xsophiesx

Mapi has been your best friend for as long as you can remember. Longer, even.

Through earthquakes and mistakes and times where you shouldn’t have done something you did, she has seen the best in you, and made you believe it too.

She makes you feel loved. In a friendly way.

But, recently, those feelings have shifted; made way for something of a different kind. Lust. Desire. The urge to ruin a friendship with reckless abandon, because your best friend is too attractive to resist. It helps that Mapi agrees. Agreed. Invited you over, peeled back the years of support and love, took you to her bed and made you see just how much a person could worship you. Should worship you.

She tells you such, over and over, kissing scars she has helped to heal. You do the same, forgetting how bad of an idea it is. Because, since that first night, Mapi has become more than a friend, more than the woman who held you when you cried. Deep down, you know that she has always been more than that, but it’s Mapi’s casualness that makes you think she is only extending your friendship slightly. Friends with benefits. Mapi knows how to do that.

She teaches you how to do it, too.

Your teammates are oblivious to the signs, aware of your affection for each other, thinking nothing of how the simplest of touches have had their meanings completely altered. You are certain that you are grateful they do not know, but, as your skin burns under Mapi’s firm hold, you wish that they did. It feels like you are dreaming. Maybe their awareness would confirm that this is real.

In this crowded room, Mapi only seems to have eyes for you. “She looks really good tonight,” Alexia comments off-handedly, not thinking anything of it. Not knowing that Mapi’s fingers are itching to tear the sequined material of the, frankly, criminal dress you are wearing tonight, not aware of how she wants to unwrap you like a highly-anticipated birthday present.

You feel good tonight. The alcohol in your system has made you forget about the stress of the season, and Pina has coaxed you into dancing with her, which frees up your body like you are finally able to take a breath of fresh air.

“I only have pretty friends,” Mapi replies, earning a flick on the arm from Alexia, who finds taking most compliments to be an impossible task.

As the two women watch you, hair wild, eyes closed, one of them thinks about how lucky she is to have you in her life. Under her clothes, she sports an indention of you. A ghost of earlier nights. Memories. A golden tattoo.

…

It’s a bit later on in the night when you approach your best friend.

Mapi is now equally drunk, though she steers clear of the dance floor.

You are apprehensive at first, the silence between you tense as she takes in how the dress has ridden up your thighs and you take in the definition of her abs displayed by the lack of fabric covering them.

Mapi decides that her patience has been more than commendable, and breaks first. “Let’s go,” she all but growls, reaching out to grasp your shaking hand, tugging you along with her to the exit.

Desperately waiting for her to say more, tell you how beautiful you look, confirm that she wants you too, you allow her to lead the dance of sneaking away from your friends, finding the route home, unlocking her apartment while your lips kiss her neck.

Once inside, she backs you against the nearest wall, relentless in her assault. Though she hasn’t spoken, you hear the thrum of her heartbeat, smell the scent of her hunger. Her desire for you.

“I need you,” you gasp against her lips, still combatting her silence.

Her hands rest on your hips, holding you in place so that you can only squirm under the force of… What is it? Lust?

“I only bought this dress so you could take it off.”

Your confession makes her stop.

Your panting stills, as does the blur of a heated moment.

Mapi looks positively ravenous.

“Y/n.” You bite your lip.

You don’t want her like a best friend.

…

It hits you like a truck.

Well, two trucks.

The first, a raging hangover, the alcohol still in your body now some concoction of toxins.

And the second, the fact that something may have slipped out last night.

There was a lot going on. The dress was ruined, torn in two by eager hands. Mapi seemed different.

Hours later, she was still going, though you were certain her initial lust had been sated. And it got sloppy and emotional and intimate. And you may have told her something that would be completely normal to say in any other context.

What’s worse, you can’t remember whether or not she said it back.

Opening your eyes to the soft morning light, you groan as you roll over in Mapi’s bed, anxiety settling in your stomach. She wakes up before you – has been doing so since your sleepovers involved more clothes and less kissing – but you are unsure if she has abandoned you for a morning run. Because, if you did tell her you loved her last night, surely Mapi will regret ever kissing you in the first place.

The thought of losing her is worse than her not loving you back. You feel nauseous.

“Hello.” You jolt upright, sheets clutched to your bare chest. Mapi leans on the wooden frame of her bedroom doorway, arms folded in front of her, a smirk on her lips at the sight of you. You are so incredibly breath-taking, and she is glad to be able to see you like this.

Naked, in her bed. And you’re hers. Sort of.

“Mapi…” you start, unsure of the proper protocol for this situation. It’s not the first time you have slept together, yet it feels more awkward than that. The fact that she might regret this, might never want to see you again, gnaws away at your words, leaving you speechless. “I was drunk.”

“So was I.”

“I didn’t mean what I said.” Her brows furrow, and there is a brief moment of sheer panic in which you think you only imagine the words slipping through your lips. But, in truth, Mapi is wondering why you are lying to her. Because someone who tells you that they love you, whispering it on repeat as though it is the only sentence in the world that matters, must be telling the truth. “A-and, I mean, this was clearly a mistake. I don’t think we should carry on. Maybe we should just be friends?”

You don’t notice the implication of your words, but Mapi’s heart is too busy breaking for her to argue. “Yeah,” she replies, dejected. “Yeah, if that’s what you want.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, gathering your clothes from their heap on the floor, hastily pulling on your underwear. She looks at the hoodie she had set out on the bed for when you woke up, having wanted you to be comfortable before she asked you if you would like to get coffee with her later. Because, when you told her that you loved her, and she had instantly said she loved you too, she thought she could finally make the move she has been too pathetic to make.

Clearly, she was wrong. You said it because that’s what people are meant to say during sex, most-likely. Mapi feels like an idiot for even thinking she would be good enough for you.

…

Alexia and you are practising free kicks after training when the captain catches your frown lasting longer than usual as you send the ball soaring hectares wide of the net. It’s been a few days since you left Mapi’s apartment, and you haven’t spoken to her since.

It’s killing you to lose your best friend like this, especially when you have no one but yourself to blame.

You kick the grass in frustration as Sandra saves your next attempt, and it is then that Alexia decides to say something. She signals for the goalkeeper to rehydrate far away enough to be out of earshot, and then places both hands on your shoulders, grounding you before the tears can well up in your eyes.

She doesn’t have to ask you what is wrong, because it comes spilling out as soon as you open your mouth to tell her that you are fine.

And she listens, wondering how two of the most compassionate women she knows have managed to fuck such a simple thing up.

For Alexia, the solution to this world-ending problem is obvious: tell her how you feel. “She feels the same, you know. She always has,” your captain says matter-of-factly, dropping her hands to her sides to pull you into a hug. “I can’t believe you two fucked before realising you have been a couple this whole time.” Her chuckle is not helpful, and she squeezes you one last time before releasing your tense body.

“Sorry?” you ask, not quite sure you heard her properly. You wipe your eyes and take in a deep breath, resolving to either get over Mapi or suck it up. Because, yeah, it’s a little embarrassing.

“Mapi loves you, idiota. Can you not tell?”

…

You go home to think about it.

Not home home, because your parents live too far away to fit in with your schedule, and not Mapi’s place, which is more comforting than your own four walls, but the apartment you bought when you decided to extend your contract at Barcelona.

In all honesty, you rarely spend time here. If you’re not at training, you’re out, and when you want to cuddle, there has always been an open door with a comfier sofa and better snacks. That door must be locked now.

Mapi can’t even look at you.

Fuck.

Have you woken up just in time? Or is it too late?

The words have already been said, though you still don’t recall them coming from her. Deluding yourself that you don’t love her is insane, because there is not a single emotion Mapi hasn’t made you feel. Hell, she even seems to invent new ones.

If you tell Mapi the truth and she doesn’t feel the same, there has to be a way to get through it. Maybe you simply take a step back, and don't spend as much time together. Stay in groups. Never go over to each other’s homes, or get trapped in small spaces.

It doesn’t occur to you that Mapi could love you. You are already planning how to salvage the friendship.

…

No tears left to cry and a speech rehearsed in your head, you are almost a tornado tearing through your apartment, set on getting to Mapi before any more damage is done.

You fling your door open, keys in one hand and a jacket in the other, and rush out to fix your mistake.

The figure waiting for you grunts as you fly into her, colliding with her, knocking the air from her lungs, and your apology is hurried out as to not waste time. Until you recognise the vanilla perfume. And the eyes that examine you with caution.

“Alexia told me that you wanted to talk?” she questions. Mapi, being the thoughtful person she is, assumed it would just be easier for her to go to you. It’s not like she has anything else to do without you occupying her spare time. “If you’re going out, I could come back another time. Or was she…” She takes in your horrified expression. “She lied to me.”

You hate how her voice cracks. How her shoulders slump.

But you are too stunned to say anything.

“I’m sorry. I’ll go.”

“Don’t.” You can’t bear to do this again: one of you leaves and the other’s world crumbles. “Alexia did lie, though.”

“Oh. Do you want to talk anyway?”

“What did Alexia say to you?”

Maybe. Just maybe.

Mapi shrugs. “To tell you how I feel.”

“And… how is that?” It feels as though the world has split in half, and this could go one of two ways. You force yourself to not cross your fingers.

“You are my best friend.”

The lump in your throat chokes you, and you want to disappear into the ground you are standing on. “Yeah. You’re mine, too.”

“No, no. Y/n.” She grabs your hands and holds them tightly, trying to get you to look at her. But you can’t. It’s too hard. “You didn’t let me finish.” She takes your silence as a sign to go on. “You’re my best friend, but recently I’ve realised that you mean so much more than that. I met you and you… you made a mark on me that has defined me as yours. And– And I love you. I have always loved you. I’m in love with you.”

“But…”

“I said it back!” she continues, exasperated. “Do you not remember?”

You shake your head. “You couldn’t love me. It’s not possible.”

“Well, it is, because I do.” She waits. She waits for what feels like an eternity, hopeful that you are going to say it back. That this will be easy as Alexia made it out to be. “You told me it was a mistake, but you never denied its meaning. You never took it back,” she urges.

“But I– Me? You love me?”

Mapi, who is so pure, who is good, who knows how to make anyone feel special, cannot just love you. She holds so much passion in her heart. She must be confused.

“Why wouldn’t I love you?” she replies indignantly.

“Because I love you too, and things don’t usually happen for me like this.”

And she laughs, grinning at you like she has caught you out. Like she has tricked you into saying yes to doing something you were reluctant to do.

“Well, soak it in, Y/n.”

She kisses you with unveiled meaning, and your knees almost give out.

…

When you tell Alexia about Mapi’s new label in your life, she decides to take full credit for it.

“I’m a genius,” she claims, wrapping her arms around the both of you, pleased to be the first to be told about the development. Three months down the line, and you couldn’t be happier that you get to kiss your best friend whenever you want. “Friends with benefits and the benefits are me officiating your wedding, right?”

“That would be so cool!” Mapi agrees with a grin. She wipes it off her face when she catches your expression. Her childish excitement is replaced with a gruff, serious clearing of her throat. “I mean, it would be, but it’s not going to happen.”

“Y/n, you’re making her less fun.”

“All your fault, genius.”

[descendantsramblings]

I’m sorry if this doesn’t make any sense or sounds weird😭 but can u write morgie x glinda the good witch’s daughter and there’s like a “pink goes good with green” moment? I’m sorry if that doesn’t make sense😖😖

No you made perfect sense, sweetheart! Even if it didn’t I’d find something to do with your prompt and let you tell me you hated it and want me to try again if I didn’t get your vision. This is a cute prompt, I’m excited to use it.

Also as per her wiki page, Glinda is a sorceress and not actually a witch so I had such silly idea for this, I love it. Thank you so much for the request anon.

Also, something about them is giving me season 3 Jancy vibes and I adore it, anyway.

Flash Photography

Morgie le Fay x Reader

Pronouns used: she/her/hers

Summary: the most unlikely of students somehow ended up on the yearbook committee and tasked with their own page in it

Warnings: I swear like once, this one is honestly really sweet and fluffy and honestly a little bit (lot bit) cheesy

Word Count: 2.4K

    As luck would have it, Merlin Academy’s walls only held two students who happened to be the children of sorcerers. Ironically though, as the school’s requirements for every junior to have at least one extra curricular would have it, both young sorcerers were on the yearbook committee. Morgie le Fay made one hell of a photographer, no one in the school could argue on that and (Y/n) was possibly the best journalist the school had seen. No one should have been shocked that the two would be paired together on the magic section of the yearbook. I mean, in a school made for magic, you’d only want the best for the pages about it. And don’t get him wrong, Morgie loves magic. He loves being a sorcerer and he’s excited to have a whole two pages dedicated to sorcery. But to work with (Y/n)? He’s not as sure he’s excited about that, actually there’s this odd feeling floating around in his gut as he thinks about it. Not one he seems to be able to recognize and that drives him crazy.  

    The bubble of pink joy that was the school’s only sorceress seems to float around the place, the movements being nearly mesmerizing. It’s oddly similar to her mother and Morgie can’t help but find some sort of jealousy in it. How was it seemingly so easy for her to connect into her mother’s energy and magic when he never felt like he deserved his own mother’s legacy? It was this mind boggling thing that seemed to leave him staring and unsure as to what caused it. Like she was something to be studied in his mind. 

   Not that that matters though, how could it when she’s perched in the seat next to him, bubbling off ideas as she talks with her hands. The scent of her sweet perfume taking an overwhelming amount of his attention as she nearly beams at him. Bright features filling up the space at their two person table top as they workshop different layouts for the opening pages. They have a base idea for the layout, and a good grasp on when he needs to pop into classes such as “Caring for Magic Creatures” and “Honors Alchemy” to get good shots. But moving on to do their page seems to put both teens at pause, eyes flickering over each other as if begging the other person to make the first decision.

   Morgie finds himself speaking first, words coming out on a groan that he hopes sounds playful, “Well, with the way we dress our spread is going to be a visual nightmare to put together.” It causes the sorceress across from him to scrunch her brows, “What do you mean?” With a vague gesture that seems somewhere close to a wave he references to both of their outfits, “Well you know the green and gold with the pink and silver. Totally clashes, it’ll be a nightmare to take pictures of.” It earns him a giggle, her head shaking as she smiles at him, “No it’ll look great, pink goes great with green, they’re complimentary colors. Trust me, we’ve got this.” Something in him begs to argue with her, but he can’t. Not when she’s looking at him like that. 

   So he nods, pulling the notebook in front of him closer with a smile, “Well then, Madam Good Witch, what are you thinking of writing on this page?” She smiles, looking at him as she absent-mindedly doodles little flowers in the margins of her notebook, “Well, obviously we need to explain what makes being a sorcerer different from other magic users, then I was thinking we could talk about our mothers’ legacies. You know, a good magic versus black magic sort of thing.” Morgie hates the idea, the last think he wants to do is praise his mother and her legacy, but surely that’s what Madam Jinx is looking for. And when the bright bubble beside you looks so excited she seems like she might burst, how do you tell her no? So he smiles, teeth on shy display and nods, giving into exactly what she wants from him. What else was there for him to do? ・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・     Morgie le Fay was no idiot, his camera obviously had a timer, there was no need for anyone else to take his picture. But when she asked to do it, bouncing on her toes with that bright smile, how could he say no? How could Morgie do anything but slide the strap of the camera over her head and gently position her hands over his most prized possession? He’s got his hands on top of hers, holding his camera as he points it towards the school, coaching her through how to use it. She’s smiling, soft giggles escaping her lips as she follows his instructions. Bodies seeming to find a comfortable temperature in the January air against one another.  “Okay, now you feel that little wheel at the top of the left side? Slide it until the words on the sign are legible.” She nods, following his instructions, her thumb brushing over his in a ghostly fashion with each movement. “Okay, now what?” “Now, press the button that I put your right index finger on.” He hears the shutter click, her finger dipping down under his as he puts the lightest pressure on it. “There you go! Now, when you do it for pictures of me, you won't need to focus it in as far, just make sure I’m not blurry and you can handle the rest. I believe in you.”

   (Y/n) feels slightly cold as Morgie pulls away from her, letting one hand drop from the camera as she pulls it lower on its strap. Her eyes set on watching the boy walk to stand in front of the cobblestones beside them, setting up a blank backdrop for their photos. She’s studying him, taking in his green button up and gold scarf, leather clinging to his arms in a way that should clash with the rest of his outfit but instead makes it oddly dashing. With a smile pressed over his lips as he eyes her up and down. “You know, you need to hold the camera up to take my picture, right?” “Right, yeah,” and she lifts it back up, focusing the camera in on him, just to drop it again, “Hold on.” The girl's mary janes make a sweet little tapping sound on the concrete as she approaches him, slow and gentle as if she’s sure he’ll startle off like a hurt animal, “Just let me-" A hand comes up to Morgie’s face, softly sweeping a few stray hairs back into the shellacked style he tends to keep it in. “There, that’s better,” she hums, smile laying sweetly on her lips as she backs away, returning to  her former spot as she holds the camera back up. Angling it back to his face and twisting the focus ever so slightly. A lip slipping between her teeth to mask her prideful smirk as she realizes the boy is suddenly a twinge more pink than he was when she first went to take his photo, but what was it she said? Pink goes good with green, doesn’t it? She smiles to herself, letting the shutter of the camera click as she captures that boyish smile and his freshly fixed hair eternally. 

    “Okay, I want to take one more, do you want to do a different pose?” He hums, propping a leg up against the wall and bringing a hand to rest on the back of his neck, the other settling on his stomach. “How’s this?” It earns him another one of those bubbly giggles, the girl softly shaking her head, “If you’re going to pose like that, your face better give me attitude, le Fay.” “Oh, I have attitude, don’t you worry about that.” With dramatics he’s tossing his scarf over his shoulder, giving her a once over with a cheeky smirk on his lips, as if he knows he's being outrageously flamboyant. Then the boy lets his face fall to a smolder but from the glint in his eyes, you can feel the way he’s trying not to laugh, something about the mix is nearly intoxicating and (Y/n) finds herself taking two pictures of it, one of him smoldering and one when the dam finally breaks and he can’t stop himself from laughing. His posture falling to be so relaxed as he leans, hand on his stomach coming to clutch it as if that will help him recollect himself, and he just looks beautiful. She can’t help but question if it would be weird of her to ask if she could keep this one for herself. Just a little memory for the road, right? 

   “Alright,” he’s catching his breath as he reaches an arm out to her, “It’s my turn, give me my camera.” She slides the strap off of her neck as she approaches him, handing it back as she turns to take his former place against the wall. “And if I had to give attitude, you better be able to bring it, (Y/n).” Both teens share this cheesy smile for a moment, then Morgie winks, and backs away from her, “I’m serious, you better pose for me.” 

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

    When they first got this assignment, any time that Morgie didn’t spend with his friends or in required yearbook committee meetings, he was with (Y/n). Answering questions about his mom and her legacy for (Y/n)’s half of the work for their magic spread or eventually, just letting himself exist in her presence. Watching movies or reading trashy tabloids together while they did a face mask. Whatever kept him in her presence worked for him. They made an unlikely duo, Morgie was well aware of that, but something about her made him feel at peace. As if he was safe with her. But that was January and February, when deadlines didn’t hang over them as if threatening to fall and crush them. Now as flowers begin to take up every bush on campus and the snow is finally gone, meetings have doubled and Morgie can’t seem to find enough time outside of the dark room. Or if he does manage to get out of the dark room -and not have plans with the other villains- (Y/n) is too busy hunched over a type writer or a notepad for him. Considering he didn’t know how he felt about her two months ago, he seemed oddly lonely without her presence. 

    To say that Morgie got too attached would be the understatement of the year. Through every bubbling giggle and gentle brush of her fingers the sorcerer went from being unsure about her to absolutely infatuated with her. She felt safe, of course he craved that, but there was something else. Something intoxicating about her that he couldn’t help but to crave. Morgie should be embarrassed, he shouldn’t feel this way about her at all, and yet, all he can think about is asking her to the end of the year formal. About a pink tie with his dark suit and a sparkling gown accompanying her glowing complexion. There was nothing to take his mind off of it when he was alone in the dark room like he was now, and he knew better than thinking about his friends like that. At least, he thinks that she’s his friend. The boy shakes his head, as if the motion can clear his thoughts, hanging up the last of the photos that needs to develop so it can dry. He needed to get out of the dark room, maybe go find Hook or someone else who could occupy the quiet spot in his mind.

    He doesn’t expect anyone to be in Madam Jinx’s room when he slips through the door, but to say the sorceress standing over that table was a disappointment would be a lie. He smiles, idling up behind her to peer over her shoulder, eyes flickering over her late night work. Pictures of the two of them are laid out around her, as well as her paragraphs on both of their mothers and what a sorcerer is. She’s moving the slips of paper seemingly aimlessly around the scrap book paper in front of her, the pages a muted yellow tone that matched the rest of that year’s "Excalibur" to a t. “What are you doing in here this late?” He keeps his voice soft, careful not to scare her as he lets his hands come to rest on either side of his friend. Effectively trapping her between himself and the surface before her. (Y/n) slightly jumps at the sound of his voice, taking in a sharp inhale as she does. “Don’t scare me like that.” He whispers a sorry in her ear, leaning over her shoulder to look at the pages. 

    “Try alternating the pictures and the bodies of text, and put the explanation of what a sorcerer is over the top of both pages.” She hums, tilting her head as she picks up the pieces just to drop them back down again, “Show me?” Morgie picks up the picture of him smiling, just to move it aside and grab the picture of him smoldering. “First of all, I look better in this one,” there’s a teasing tone hanging off of his words as he places the photo a centimeter away from the outer edge of the left piece of scrapbook paper. Next, shifting the writing about Morgana over until it’s about two centimeters from the inner edge, the words lower down as to avoid any overlap. He does the opposites with her pictures and the information about Glinda, leaving an open space between their two photos with either body of text next to one another. Finally, he takes the paragraph on what a sorcerer was, letting it fall between their pictures, “There, how’s that?”

   He leans a little further off of her as he speaks, watching as she tilts her head from side to side, taking it in. Then, with that picture perfect smile but no warning she turns on her toes to face him, making Morgie suddenly deeply aware of how close the two of them happen to be. She doesn’t pay it any mind though, smiling up at him with a hand slipping onto his cheek, “Morgie le Fay, you might just be a genius, do you know that?” He's not sure if it's the praise or the physical contact, but suddenly he can’t seem to control himself. Not with the way she’s smiling at him and the feeling of her soft palm against his face. Morgie finds himself leaning into her lips, eyes fluttering shut as he kisses her. The motion is soft and gentle and just as he realizes what he’s doing, he goes to pull away. (Y/n) starts kissing back though, her other hand coming up to his neck and pulling him ever so slightly closer, effectively keeping the boy against her lips. He’s still the first to pull away though, eyes fluttering open as he looks down at her flustered little smile and half lidded eyes. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me, I-” But she laughs, cutting him off as she softly rubs his cheek with a smile, “It’s just like I told you Morgie, pink goes good with green.”

[flowerbloom-arts]

“It's for a comic strip I do called 'Grumble and Bumble,' Grumble likes to yell but deep down he loves Bumble like a son.”

Seymour sometimes has a creative side, whether it be accidentally plagiarizing Jurassic Park for a book he's been thinking about writing (s5 ep19) or writing a couple screenplays in the hopes of getting them to Universal Studios and winning an Oscar (s19 ep18), and likely due to a lack of an active imagination or minimal media consumption he tends to draw inspiration from his own life for his art.

The screenplays he wrote in Any Given Sundance had titles that he fairly obviously based on his life or desires - “When Edna Met Seymour” (this is 4 whole seasons after they broke up), “Ghost Willie” (Willie hates Seymour's guts like most of the school staff but how much Seymour hates him back I can't quite say, or this could be more metaphorical and Willie's hatred is manifested into a threatening ghost form), “Killing Seymour's Mother” (he's expressed a desire to kill Agnes multiple times throughout the show due to resentment and despite his seemingly unconditional love for her), and “The Principal Who Sold a Screenplay” (this is simply premature wish-fulfillment)

“Grumble and Bumble” is no different. If the designs of the characters didn't make this obvious enough, Grumble is Chalmers and Bumble is Skinner himself, and thusly he is speaking indirectly about his ideas of what his dynamic with his superintendent is by using Grumble and Bumble as an allegory. But why would Seymour believe that despite the sometimes abusive tendencies Gary treats him with, Gary loves him "like a son" deep down?

I've often thought how similar Chalmers is to Agnes in some respects, especially when it pertains to their treatment of Seymour, but to an audience they have their fairly obvious differences.

While Agnes' abuse stems from a mix of bitterness and a fear of abandonment from the only person who still loves her despite her behavior, Gary's abuse seems to stem from a deep-seated annoyance with Skinner's behavior. Chalmers doesn't like Skinner being his bootlicker, the few times Chalmers treats him with benevolence or fondness is when Skinner acts confident in himself, unburdened by Chalmers' whims over him, meanwhile Agnes actively kicks him down when he tries to stand up.

Of course, it doesn't really make a difference to Skinner, I doubt he himself sees the difference, all he knows is that they dislike him but he can sometimes win over their affection if he does... Something, anything, likely whatever they want him to do which is be obedient and successful at his tasks despite his nightmarish circumstances because that's what they yell at him to do. He can't differentiate between what Chalmers likes and what Agnes likes because he's so used to his mother and Chalmers is so close to that pattern of behavior they might as well be the same.

And just as Seymour loves Agnes, he also loves Chalmers. It doesn't particularly matter if that love is familial or platonic or even romantic on Seymour's end, really, because it all leads to the same result; that love leads to a desire to fulfill whatever harsh demand is given to him. He's a dog in that sense, and he never knows when to quit (as Bart says; "No matter how badly you get treated, you always come back for more! It's like your superpower!" - s32 ep8).

And despite everything Gary's put him through, he hopes desperately that he can achieve and continue to maintain any morsel of affection he may throw for doing a good job, just like Agnes would. He thinks the abuse hides an inherent affection Chalmers harbors for him; why else would Gary keep coming to school to see him? Why else would he seem to care about it so much? It must be similar to how his mother still keeps a roof over his head or cooks him food; she cares despite her hatred, because he is her son and there's an unconditional love there between them. Seymour knows this, and so therefore there has to be one conclusion, no matter what kind of affection Skinner feels for him:

Chalmers likes to yell but deep down he loves Skinner like a son. Just as Agnes loves him as a son.

“No he doesn't.”

— s26 ep11, Bart's New Friend

[lightwing-s]

Hiii i loved your gravity fic 😭 could you do a fluff study sesh with jason? I just love him

You hated exam season with a passion. But really, who liked it? You were stressed, tired, and neglecting every other aspect of your life, making your bedroom look like a warzone you had zero intentions of cleaning till you were done with your finals, and your skin care routine to be thrown into space.

There was so much to study, so much to do, you felt like exploding.

But as always, your boyfriend would come to your rescue.

Taking you out for a quick date, to spoil you and take you out of your stress bubble, he took you to a local café where you bought two large cups of coffee for yourself and talked for a while before heading to your uni library.

Sitting at different tables, back towards each other, being far enough so you could focus on your studies, yet close enough so you could feel each others' presence.

You’d feel his arms reaching out to touch your tight, caressing it until you gave it the attention he craved and curled your fingers around his own. You’d listen to the special playlist he made especially for moments like this, helping you focus on the task at hand.

He’d lean back in his chair and kiss your shoulder, sending you a warm smile and making sure you weren’t overworking yourself. He’d give you a quick massage when he’d stand up to go to the bathroom or fill both of your water bottles, or even when he ran to the nearest coffee place to get you another cup after you finished the two ones you got earlier.

He was the one timing your sessions and making sure you got a break between your studies, pulling you to a lone corner, or an empty aisle, to kiss your lips, your neck, your chest, and take your mind out of everything else bothering your mind.

Although you were stressed, Jason loved these moments because he could take care of you, spoil you, make sure you were alright. And you couldn’t deny that you loved them too, not wanting your exams to end because you wanted to keep getting treated this way, but knowing full well Jason would find a way to treat you even better with no reason at all.

Just his love for you.

.

a/n: thanks for the love of gravity. i wish i knew how to finish it, because i loved the idea initially. but maybe i can get to writing it soon 💖

[bunni-v1]

I got an idea for Jamil and Kalim. How would Jamil react to his S/O teaching Kalim martial arts? S/O knows it's Jamil's job to protect Kalim, but the S/O knows there's a time and place when Kalim needs to stand on his own. Maybe S/O and Jamil talk about this and ask Kalim?

Jamil’s S/O teaching Kalim Martial Arts

TW: Mild swearing, (Slightly) Jealous Jamil

Info: Headcannons; Light angst, mostly cute and silly; Jamil x Reader, Kalim and Reader (platonic)

🍓This one was fun! It's short and sweet but I really enjoy writing for both Kalim and Jamil, so I had a blast. It's finals season right now, so I have a lot of papers and tests coming up, which is why it took me so long to get this out. But! I got this done, and I have another fun write (for myself) coming sometime in the future (hopefully later this week.) Thank you so much for requesting lovely!

-Jamil has quite a hefty workload. As Kalim’s keeper he must ensure his happiness and safety at all times — even after their ‘agreement’ after his overblot. As the house warden, he has to ensure that Kalim does his tasks as housewarden plus keeping all the dorm members in line.

-Simply: he’s stressed.

-As his partner, all this stress rubs off on you too. Seeing your boyfriend constantly high-strung and on edge can take quite a bit out of you. 

-Only issue, he won’t let you help him. No matter what you do, he wants to keep you as far away from his work life as possible.

-Which is sweet! In concept! 

-He really cares so much, but dammit you want to help him!

-Soooooo… you scheme <3 

-More specifically, you scheme with Kalim.

-Sweet little Kalim who is equally worried for both you and his best friend.

-The two of you plot different ways to lighten Jamil’s load… almost all of which backfire.

-First, you try to teach him to cook… doesn’t go well and Jamil bans both of you from the kitchen.

-You attempt to teach him better cleaning tactics, but a life of being picked up after doesn’t make that easy (paired with a side of ADHD makes it nearly impossible)

-No matter what you do, there’s a blockade that makes it so difficult. 

-Then one day, you realize, you know multiple different types of martial arts. If you can’t lighten Jamil’s workload you can potentially lighten the burden of protecting Kalim.

-To your surprise, its pretty easy! Dance interoperates itself to fighting scarily well, and Kalim is a fast learner when he wants to be.

-On top of that, its fun! Spending time with Kalim is always a delight, and helping Jamil makes everything feel better.

-Only issue… you sorta forgot to tell Jamil about it.

-From his perspective, you and Kalim have been sneaking around and spending more and more time together… its suspicious.

-At first, he let it slide. He trusts you and he’s learning to trust Kalim. He figures one of you will talk before long. 

-Then… a week or two pass, and nothing from either of you. Radio silence.

-Forgive him, but a life full of Kalim taking everything from him has made him particularly sensitive to… well… Kalim related things. This, in his mind, is Kalim trying to sweep you off your feet and take you from him too… and you’re letting him.

-So he… sorta… kinda decides to follow you around one day without your knowledge because his paranoia got to him. 

-He expected to find the two of you frolicking around the desert, or canoodling in Kalim’s bed… instead he found you throwing Kalim over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

-Huh…?

-His first instinct is to yell at both of you, “What the hell are you doing!?!?”

-His second is to be relieved, because of course you weren’t cheating on him. With Kalim of all people. How crazy was he?

-His third is to figure out exactly what was going on, because it isn’t everyday your partner starts throwing your house warden around.

-The explanation of ‘We wanted to lighten your load so you were less stressed, so we decided to teach him martial arts!’ pretty much leaves him dumbfounded. That’s what you were so secretive about. He’s dating a moron.

-Truly though, deep down, he’s actually incredibly grateful for what you did. While it isn’t super helpful, he appreciates the thought behind it, because its you doing something nice for him. He’s not used to that, but he wants to soak it up as best as he can. 

-From then on he offers to help you out when he has free time — though you protest because its more work for him, he just wants to spend more time with you. (And he’s still a little miffed that you were spending so much time with Kalim and not him.)

-Definitely shows appreciation through his actions over the next couple of weeks. He’s more physically affectionate, gives you more gifts, and is generally more loving than he usually is in displaying his gratitude. 

[yuseirra]

(Vague..hints about what 165 would be, I heard about it, I'm...scared to see that chapter. It sounds really horrifying, I can't phrase it otherwise.)

I think I'm going to jot down my feelings. I honestly feel so, so sorry for people who like this manga..; on the bright side it's been a work that's...imbued things in me to write and draw this much about myself but I wish that'd only have happened on a positive note.

I think the author is really being too much..;; They're being so cruel. For what? Can this story get across a proper message? That's what's most important to me and I can take it if I'm convinced it is but... This current route is so far from what most audience would believe as fulfilling or.. Feel happy about seeing. Unless this is fake and the last chapter has some sort of happy closure to it all.

I started reading onk after the anime came out last year and kept up with it, ordering the volumes and reading them. After Chapter 154 and listening to the opening for Season 2, I just thought, “Ah, this is what it is… This is it.” (If you read my oldest? theory posts about this work, this July, you’d know what I mean. I think I’ve figured it all out, and so far, nothing I’ve said back then has been disproven; on the contrary, it STILL makes the most sense.)

I have myself an idea of what this could be, but unless Ruby uses Amaterasu’s power to save everyone and bring them into a happy timeline in the final chapter, this is just...;;

Haha, seriously, this is... phew...

It’s true that Ai and the person she really loved had mutual feelings, but that person went completely insane and caused some incredibly serious issues, forcing Aqua to go after him with everything he had.

From how things are unfolding, I think these points have been confirmed.

We also learned that person was originally good enough to be called noble<I feed off this info like cow eats grass... That's the thing that keeps me going lol Kamiki is nuts...oh please...I really care for him

We know Aqua had a mission assigned from the gods.

For Ruby’s future, he had to capture their father, and this task required him to put everything he built in the story so far on the line.

I kind of understood this? Even if accepting it is a different matter.

No matter how important revenge is in Aqua’s narrative... it’s like, what should I even say? Kamiki ended up devouring Aqua’s story to such an extent that the latter part of the story feels overshadowed by him, and yet Kamiki hasn’t been explored in enough depth for that.

For those following Aqua, this progression feels incredibly harsh. Even if you were rooting for Aqua, the villain he’s up against should be properly fleshed out. Kamiki is full of gaps everywhere. Maybe some parts are intentionally hidden, but what they’ve done feels too much like a Deus ex Machina.

The things he’s been said to have done aren’t even within the realm of what an ordinary human could achieve, it's beyond logic. So unless he’s literally a god, it doesn’t make sense. That’s why I kept insisting he’s divine. When you look at the clues related to his character, there’s actual foreshadowing that supports this theory. If he isn’t, then nothing makes sense. I even wrote a post as soon as Fatal dropped. I just knew THAT had to be it.

There are so many actions he took that can’t be explained unless he’s something beyond human, things that even gods would need to intervene in, assigning missions to Aqua and Ruby. That’s the development that makes the most sense.

Even so, this plot is too much for fans who have loved and followed this series.

I kind of get it, but for fans who have been deeply attached and following this work(this includes me too), the final chapter… Even if there’s something to look forward to, it doesn’t seem like it’ll be worth getting your hopes up. And I'm usually a very hopeful person. It feels like the author wanted to try writing an ending like this, but even then, this... The last 10 chapters or so feel like they consumed all the preceding content.

If Kamiki had been more prominently featured and well-developed, that might have been different (I probably analyzed him more than anyone else out there, because there wasn’t much to go on, and I tried to understand what kind of person he was, filling in the gaps to infer his behavior and motives since his perspective was never shown). But Kamiki, who isn’t as well-developed as Aqua, now holds a weight in the story that makes Aqua sacrifice everything he’s built. I really wish they did both characters justice. I really liked them both.

In that case, he needs to be an unimaginably terrible villain. From what spoilers suggest, what he’s done is indeed severe. But if Ai truly loved such a person, and that’s flipped with the limited remaining chapters, the story becomes trash... Haha. Then what’s the point? I don’t know. That, I really don't wish nor see being contradicted.

Kamiki was kind but lost his mind. (Him being kind is something I never want to give up till the end. I just see it REALLY well too.) So he did a lot of things, I get that. But can something of this scale really happen in modern society, to the point where the protagonist must sacrifice their life?

If so, shouldn’t there be some justification brought in from outside the story to make it convincing? Hence, Kamiki is essentially a god, as suggested by his very name. He was a noble god who fell. There’s enough context, hints, and foreshadowing to support that. He was exposed to malevolence from a young age and became tainted by it. He probably did love Ai, which is why he wielded his power so recklessly, driven by madness to reunite with her.

But even with this, there’s hardly any explanation. Why he went mad, what he did with his life—it’s all glossed over in a few panels. If he’s the villain that the protagonist *must* defeat, there should have been more depth and depiction to fuel that narrative, but it’s incredibly ambiguous. The story just throws a few lines at us and expects us to believe, “He could do all this, so the protagonist had to die,” and that’s it. (That's why... I'm not really sure if they make it want to seem like he's THE bad guy either. Since it's rarely explored in detail so we can't sympathize with the victims if they exist and...hate this guy even more for it. That approach I agree with, because it shouldn't be that way if this story wants a message. But who knows. Scary stuff; it just makes you baffled and dumbfounded and go, "what is this?";; Again, it'd make me question, 'What kind of guy did Ai even love?' I do have my own answers for that. He's her previous divine husband who became hopelessly flawed upon losing her, THAT'S what, so it's not on HIM that he's turned out that way. But who knows.)

Do you think that’s convincing...?💦 I’m filling in the blanks myself, but this feels too much. Whether the final chapter is 50 pages or 100 pages, it can’t wrap this up properly unless Ruby turns back time to save everyone and bring them happiness. I’ve heard there are about 50 pages for 166, but isn’t that just two chapters’ worth? It’s basically the same as a double issue, and given how little content there’s been in recent chapters, even if they combine two, I don’t think it’ll be impactful.

I genuinely feel sorry for the fans of this series. Does this development make sense to you? I’m so baffled that I can’t help but laugh when I think about the plot. It’s not even funny; it’s just painful to watch. How many people would have wanted this kind of ending? I once wrote that over 70% of fans might end up hating the conclusion, that I have a bad feeling about the writer having some kind of personal ambition to create a "twist" and experiment on it out of their artistic desires - and if it ends like this, they probably will. It's not like I didn't see it coming. I did tell all the others who came to read this work upon reading my fanworks to wait until it's complete, there are some things I really appreciate about it, but I wasn't sure it'd progress on your usual, happy and safe route. It could have been that way. The answers were all there. There were many opportunities where there were chances of this story getting an ending many would be satisfied with,

And if I’m wrong about everything I’ve said here, I’ll be just as lost. I really won’t understand any of it. But I’m confident I’m right.

The traits of Kamiki match those of the husband of Ame-no-Uzume in at least ten ways. That god even had a story that said he drowned.(but if he really died, that's ambiguous and he is worshipped pretty well along with his beloved Amenouzume)That's just too much to be brushed off as coincidence, he's at least INSPIRED from that god.

I believe he was originally very kind. I can’t let go of that idea, because it’s been evident to me, and it sticks in my mind. But if that’s true, then this is the story of someone who was kind but went mad, and a son who became a vengeful spirit after his mother’s death. The mother, worrying about the father, left what was almost like a final wish: “If your father is still straying, won’t you help him with me?” But the son kills his father, thinking there’s no hope for him, and ends up dying himself in the process. If that’s really the story, then how... how can there be any positive message to take away from this?

I think I understand what’s going on. I think I do... but the story has been so unfriendly and, as a result, feels disrespectful to fans who have loved the series.

I'm actually thinking: if Kamiki IS Sarutahiko the god of guidance who's been TWISTED due to making EVERY possibilities of a future turn horribly wrong, are we WITNESSING his powers in real time?? Is THIS an extension of what he's capable of? because, I feel like.. He's been bringing sufferings to everyone including himself. Oh in that case I'd totally understand his pain. He really would be suffering. And he's THAT dangerous. What if this comic is being really meta, huh?? I think he doesn't want this either. Losing Ai just.. Totally shattered him I bet. But seeing how things are, I think it could really have been his powers that caused her to die in the first place, unintentionally though. I won't forgive the author if HE'S the one who's killed Ai AND he's been doing all these things in order to get her back afterwards, that is just...so rude. It has no point...

There’s still one chapter left, and I know it’s not right to make a judgment prematurely, but if things go on like this, it’s truly too much...; I genuinely feel bad for those who have loved this work wholeheartedly. And for myself... if it doesn’t end as I’ve thought, then I’ve been completely mistaken, haha. But I came into this with confidence, not about Aqua’s side of things(I thought HIM out of all should get a happy ending. I still wish for that to happen), but about what the story wanted to convey through Aqua’s parents. I believed there could be a meaningful message despite how difficult it seemed, so I took the initiative and interpreted it, drew a lot. If I’m wrong, I can only blame my insight... The story itself never changed; it just stayed there. But I was confident. I’ve never been wrong when it comes to instincts or analyses related to psychology. I thought I knew what this was...

I hope this work gets resolved in a way that is respectful towards its fans whom really cared for the series...they-we-deserve that as much as the authors deserve respect. We're in this together as a fan and the writers. We should care about each other.

[llendrinall]

Dear Endrina

I am once again finding myself reading the secret language of plants, and I was wondering.

Are you still writing? Fanfiction, original fiction or others?

I would love to check out other things you are writing (if not already in ao3).

Is there any fanfiction authors your were inspired by for your work? I haven't really found anybody who writes just like you managed to do.

I am a big fan of your work and it always cheers me up reading your stories 😊 thanks for sharing with us all ❤️

Hello, dear.

I am writing, but I am not posting. There are many reasons why: less time, less energy, less fandoms that pique my interest, etc. I won’t detail them all reasons here. I dislike the idea of posting unfinished works so I have nothing to show. I will say that I am working on a collection of (fandom) stories and when I got your ask, I stole a couple of hours to other tasks and wrote 900 words. Nice! Although what started as 7 stories has grown to 16 so I don’t know when they will be ready.

As for other works or authors, funnily enough I had been meaning to write a couple of posts about books, so I will just do it here.

Endrina’s list of very nice books

Quality is subjective so the main criteria here is whether I have re-read these books, whether they had something to drawn me back.

Original fiction

Terry Pratchett.

Every Pratchett fan easily admits that his first books are not very good and that there is no good point to start reading. You simply pick a book, plunge into Discworld, and figure things as you go. Pratchett’s turn of phrase if excellent. Pratchett’s examination of morals is even better. Because it’s fantasy, Pratchett has not been taken seriously. He is too juvenile, too funny, too unserious. But he is also a master at making readers grow a political conscience.

The post I was meaning to write was a comparison between Pratchett’s witches (Weyrd Sisters, Witches Abroad, etc.) and some other author’s witches. Ok, it’s JKR, but I didn’t want it to be a direct attack on her or her character. It’s just a comparison of the content.

In Harry Potter the wizarding world is hidden. The reason given is that muggles would be demanding favors nonstop. Later I think it is implied that muggles may be dangerous to wizards. In Discworld, however, magic is perfectly public. People do demand favors from witches (and wizards, but less so) and people are a threat to magical folk. One of the Tiffany Aching’s books (aimed to younger readers, but still excellent) opens with an imprisoned witch about to be executed (she frees herself, of course, by magical and mundane means).

The thought came to me regarding anesthesia use during labor. I am sure that in Harry Potter witches don’t experience pain giving birth, but they don’t share that gift with muggles.

In Harry Potter, magic folk let non-magic folk suffer.

In Discworld, magic folk understand magic as a duty, while accepting that there won’t be thanks or appreciation. If you have the ability to save a sheep, to remove someone’s pain, to make their passing easier, you must do it.

It’s surprising that school libraries would ban Harry Potter and not Pratchett, because he is the one with potential to bring people to the left.

Naomi Novik

How to describe the Temeraire series? They are very good, they have dragons, they are populated by people who feel very real.

The first book is dedicated to building a fantasy world. So cool. So exciting. It would look so nice as an HBO MAX show! They would blunder the second season, but the first season would be excellent.

The next eight books ruthlessly deconstruct the first one. Much like Pratchett, Novik takes an idea and asks, “but how can this work?” and, often, the answer is “by the suffering and exploitation of poor people”. And she (like Pratchett) will drag the answer to the light.

The third book, Gunpowder war, is my favorite because the structure is crisp and neat. Three places, thee different environments, three challenges. You go from movement to arrest and back to movement and afterwards you feel like having completed a videogame.

Agatha Christie

She, like Pratchett, is not considered a “proper” author. I suspect it’s because she is a woman and because her books are accessible. There is this bias against books and stories that many people can enjoy.

Being a British woman born in 1890, her writing does have some ideas that seem outdated, especially regarding foreigners and Jews. But it’s ameliorated by the fact that all her characters are individuals. Each one of them is a distinct person rather than a stand-in for a whole group. So when in Lord Edgware Dies a Jewish woman is described as greedy an ambitious, she is still given enough personality that it seems like a “her” problem rather than a group trait. I don’t want to completely excuse or handwave it. Occasionally there are racist undertones. But they are still way less obvious that many modern works.

For a long time, every October/November I would read one of her novels to get in the Autumn mood, but lately I have found myself reading her “out of season” and wondering why her call was growing stronger. I realized recently it’s because in her books people don’t enjoy killing. Oh, someone is going to die. Perhaps more than one person. But the murderer kills because a) they expect to inherit, b) they are guarding a secret, c) they are in love, d) a variation of the three. They don’t enjoy killing, is my point. They don’t do it for pleasure. There are no elaborate and inventive ways to torture someone and desecrate a corpse. I find that I am very tired of recent trends in which a psycho killer tortures young women and taunts the police.

Also, Christie is very compassionate towards women. Some women are good, some are evil, some are adulteress, some have relations with married men, some get pregnant while single. In the latter case, the tone is more of “it happens” rather than “what a slut”. It is no ideal, it means trouble and social exclusion for the woman, but it happens so Christie doesn’t moralize about it. (And in Hallowe’en Party there is a single mother who is treated as perfectly normal).

I said earlier her characters are distinct individuals. Christie’s strength lies in voicing varied psychological profiles. Her two main detectives (Poirot and Marple) read as asexual (no matter the forced heteronormative that TV/movie adaptations try to push). Poirot also is a clear case of OCD and… it’s fine. That’s how he is. There are also some great ADHD characters. There is whatever was going on Ms MacGinty is dead. The main suspect is clinically depressed or something, I don’t remember well.

People are varied and allowed to be weird, and I love it.

(Occasionally, a couple of lesbians will pop. Sadly, because these are murder mysteries, one of them may die. But it doesn’t read like a Bury Your Gays trope)

Miguel de Cervantes

This one is not like the others because there is a lot of scholarly work about Cervantes. So much so that he is taken as a Very Serious author when, in fact, he is Pretty Funny. Think lines like “thus came a man riding a donkey, although it may had been a mule, there is no consensus regarding the animal, except it was probably grey of coat. The man was carrying a basin on his head.”

Having some political and cultural context helps to enjoy Don Quixote, but it is not a sine qua non requisite. For English, I like Grossman’s translation.

(Also, this is almost never mentioned: Miguel de Cervantes and his brother were suspected in the murder of a high class nobleborn who was a known sexual harasser. And it shows. There is a chapter in DQ that could very well be titled: Incel Culture, let’s not).

Fanfiction

Astolat

Astolat’s stories follow the pattern of the Common Man falling for the Enlightened Man. This tickles something deep in my brain and I love it.

The Common Man may not be so common. He may be a renowned warrior. He may be a hero. He is only common when opposed to the Enlightened Man (who may be a woman, like Brienne of Tarth, fantastic). The latter is someone with their third, fourth and fifth eye open. Someone who understands magic and, what’s even more difficult, morality. Someone who knows. What they know may vary, but the knowledge is there and with it a certain sense of being removed, of not fitting in the world. So they are surprised to attract the desperate interest of the Common Man.

Other things to like: clever construction of plot, deep and surrounding worldbuilding with just a couple of strokes.

Owlet

Her Bucky (MCU) series is fantastic, but the first work, This, you protect is particularly good. It is funny, it is healing, and it’s an interesting example of how to enthrall people. Most fanfics have sex, it is almost a requisite. Some readers will reject a story if the promise of hot scenes isn’t there. Well, This, you protect doesn’t have sex. It has coffee concoctions and grilled cheese sandwiches, and they are so satisfying that you won’t even notice there is no sex.

Scaramouche

I haven’t read her latest works (I am bit tired of the MCU and Steve/Tony doesn’t work for me) but I have read her previous work, specially the Supernatural fics, and enjoyed them thoroughly. The setting of her stories is imaginative yet familiar. No matter how alternative the AU is, it always feels natural and real, as if she had been a long time there and knew every place and every aspect.

The hoyden

Her DP9 and XMen fics read like silk. I don’t have another word. They are delicate and soft and they flow. They feel luxurious.

[pomegranate-pen]

Hi iv really enjoyed your lackadaisy writing and was wondering if you’d be willing to write dating headcanons for Mordecai Heller?

He’s one of my favorites atm

A/n: hey everyone!! hope you're all having a good day!!! so a lot fo you requested mordecai dating headcanons, so here it is!! this will probably be the last headcanons I'll do, and I'll now stick to writing scenarios while also my main focus being continuing my fanfics. also going to start making up the plot for the potential rocky fic. though that all may come out in summer, since I'm slowly but surely exam seasons. anyways- hope you all enjoy this!!

Mordecai Heller x gn! reader general

-Mordecai is definitely cold toward you the very first time you meet. He will not speak to you about himself or his interests, he will keep the conversations short and straight to the point and he will not care about a single thing you do, only he will be annoyed when you do a task wrong.

-If you’re a regular of sorts, or someone who will become his partner or co-worker, then you’ll learn a few more bits and information about him and if stayed long enough, you will get a few more lines other than orders about what he feels about a certain subject matter or a few other workers around here (mostly complaints about the Savoy siblings, given how much he has to spend time with them on the daily). even then, he merely considers you an acquaintance. And it will take many years and much more meetings for him to see you as a friend. and when it does happen, it is subtle, but the conversations are more apparent, and your opinion on different matters is valued much more.

-Being his lover, however, will take much longer, and needs a much more deal of spending time and getting to know him. Which can be hard given how closed off he is about his life and past. Despite that, it’s not an impossible task. Rather, it’s made extremely difficult due to Mordecai’s own lack of interest in such things, his trust issues, and a bundled amount of feelings of unworthiness towards such a thing as love. He believes he doesn’t need it nor does he deserve it, and he doesn’t mind either of those.

-However, though his feelings are completely uninterested in such matters, that doesn’t mean he won’t fall for someone, which in this case, becomes you after half a decade or so of being friends with him. 

-the first to realize their feelings is most likely you. since Mordecai will first assume that his emotions towards you are just ones out of the care and respect he has for you as a friend. If you realize them, you must keep quiet about them for the most part, since Mordecai won’t really understand why there would be such a feeling harboring between you two, and he must process his own feelings himself before accepting yours. When he does realize them, oh boy, it’s rough. He feels guilty for loving you, because he doesn’t trust himself with any intimate relationship. Given how his friendship went with Viktor, he was already extremely hesitant about the idea of another friend, now, a lover and a partner, someone that he needs to trust and share a part of his life with, and they must do with him, is frightening and confusing to say the least. As said before, he doesn’t believe he’s worthy of such things. And now that he wants it from you, he feels like a villain of sorts. Taking something that doesn’t belong to him in the first place.

-It will take quite a few months for him to accept these feelings of his, almost half a year even. You seriously need to be very patient with him, something that he will appreciate the world of when you do. his confession is short, and straight to the point. Though, a few ticks of stress and anxiousness can be seen in him. For example, his ears are twitching here and then, his tail is flicking up and down in his seat and he cannot for the life of him seem to stare at you in the eye for more than three seconds. His words are quick, and his tone is a bit clumsy for a guy like him. at the end of it, the flicks of his tail are quicker in speed, and now, he’s looking straight at you with a hesitant look, as if he’s regretting the confession already a second after it’s done.

-He’s calmed down and surprised when you do accept his confession, and he’d not know what to do at that point. he’d nod his head, clear his throat, and thank you. “very well then,” his ears twitched a bit. “ I suppose we’d have to…plan a date now?” 

-It takes him some time, but with some help from yours, he finds, in his opinion, the true meaning of dating someone. It is not about dates and being over the top like he presumed, yet it is a way of spending time and enjoying each other’s presence, and being loyal to one another for more than anyone else. 

-So as you can guess, dates are quite rare. He never sees the point in it, though if you want such an activity to happen every once in a while, perhaps with a bit of pleading and coaxing you’ll get him to begrudgingly get time out of his day to do such things with you. yet, even though he seems annoyed by the entire occasion at first, you find him calm and even smiling at some point the more time you spend with him on the said dates.

His love language is spending time with one another. Though at the start of the relationship, miscommunication will be common, since Mordecai isn't one to speak about his feelings, if you try your best to tackle it healthily, your relationship with him will be all about communication and it will be the very reason why it’s so strong at the end of it all. It also makes him see communication as the most important part of the relationship, so he’s completely honest, brutally so at times. 

--The love language he’d like to receive most is the same, though he does get a bit flustered anytime you use words of affirmation and compliment him, then quickly denies your compliments or thanks you for them. 

-Not at all a PDA person, nor is he a physically affectionate guy in private either. He doesn’t like physical contact, either finding it too stuffy or too warm for his liking and just not being in much of a mood for it most times. Though, if in a situation you truly seem like you need a warm embrace or a hand to hold, he wouldn’t mind giving that to you, though he’ll be a bit flustered and quiet the entire time while doing so. He wouldn’t ever say this out loud, but his favorite act of affection from you is when you kiss or peck his cheek. It's surprising to him and it makes him melt a bit, being treated with such softness is quite rare in his life, so he doesn’t know what to do when you peck him, but his heart is beating so fast he can’t focus. He could only look at you in shock and touch the cheek you have kissed in instinct. Give him a forehead kiss and you’ll have an extremely quiet Mordecai awaiting you. he’s processing every second of that quick kiss and he’s speechless by how much it moved him.

 -Word about your relationship will never spread out, since Mordecai is extremely private about such things. No one realizes you two are dating unless one of you says so. The only ones who do notice by connecting the dots themselves are the Savoy siblings and Viktor. 

-Whether you like it or not, information about Mordecai’s family will mostly never be revealed. You’ll most likely just know that he has two sisters, but that is all he will ever tell you. and in fairness, he never tries to force you to speak about yours either, so it’s a mutual agreement at times to just avoid the topic unless it is deemed necessary by a dangerous circumstance to be said. 

-He doesn’t have many hobbies, but if you still try to enjoy a few things he does such as reading the same book he has on his shelves, you’ll be met with a cautiously excited and info-dumping Mordecai who starts debates and discussions with you about which part of the books you enjoyed and detested.

-He’ll try to indulge a bit in a few hobbies you have as well, but he’ll probably not get much invested in them. Though, he still sees it as a worthy journey, since in the end you were smiling and excited when explaining things to him.  

-Mordecai feels much more comfortable ranting to you than anyone else. So most times when he comes back from work for the day and has a weekend to look forward to, he spends that time drinking tea with you while speaking about anything and nothing that is on his mind. Treat this like it was diamonds in a mine full of charcoal. because not everyone has the luck to meet this side of Mordecai Heller. He’s more expressive when he’s with you, more open with his emotions, which means the level of trust he has with you is most than anyone else’s.

He’ll listen to all your rants and complaints as well, and if needed, he will give honest advice for your problems. Don’t expect any comfort, though. Because he isn't the best one for such things and he makes that clear all the time before you start your rant. 

-Wherever you live, whether it's in a separate apartment from his or if you’ve moved in with him, it will be extremely clean. Whether it’s because of his actions or yours, a completely clean and tidied-up house becomes the absolute norm in your life. If you were one who never really cared about those things, well, you will have to at some point for his sake, since he’s always extremely uncomfortable in messy areas.

 -Mordecai Heller loves you, but he won’t ever verbally say it. yet, you’ll always know that, because his actions speak much louder than words ever can, and you understand every word he's saying when he’s making tea for you or asking about your day, speaking to you on the daily or just sitting next to you. you know he loves you, and you know he loves you back. and perhaps, that is why this relationship worked in the first place. It will have its hardships, yes, but like any other relationship, it doesn’t mean it won’t have its good moments either. 

[jackoshadows]

I have always felt that Benioff and Weiss replacing Jeyne Poole with Sansa on the show was when the writing for the Northern plot became extremely moronic and everything that happens there in seasons 6-8  totally careened the show off the tracks. And reading some of GRRM’s more recent interviews only confirms this for me.

This is D&D on why they made the change:

And it’s because of Turner’s strength, Benioff continued, that it made sense to give Sansa a dramatic storyline this season and to use Ramsay’s engagement for that very purpose. In fact, the showrunners first thought about putting Sansa and Ramsay together back when they were writing season 2. “We really wanted Sansa to play a major part this season,” Benioff said. “If we were going to stay absolutely faithful to the book, it was going to be very hard to do that. There was a subplot we loved from the books, but it used a character that’s not in the show.”

It’s very clear now that GRRM thinks the lack of fake Arya is the biggest change that took the show in a very different direction compared to the books. It’s interesting that when he refers to the butterfly effect slowly ballooning into a huge dragon effect he is referring to the lack of fake Arya in the north. Clearly this is important for GRRM because he has been talking about this from 2011 (to D&D) to as recently as 2022.

At a convention in 2013 GRRM said this: 

In a convention panel this year, George said on the record that he had no idea what they were doing with Sansa or where they’re taking her storyline, which now makes sense perhaps. He was not pleased when he was talking about it, so who knows what’s going to happen with her! Knowing GRRM, that could mean they’re going off the canon reservation, and/or that they’re going to be making a lot of shit up

This was GRRM commenting in 2015 about the Sansa in Winterfell plot:

Let me reiterate what I have said before. How many children did Scarlett O'Hara have?  Three, in the novel.  One, in the movie.  None, in real life: she was a fictional character, she never existed. The show is the show, the books are the books; two different tellings of the same story.  

There have been differences between the novels and the television show since the first episode of season one.  And for just as long, I have been talking about the butterfly effect.  Small changes lead to larger changes lead to huge changes.  HBO is more than forty hours into the impossible and demanding task of adapting my lengthy (extremely) and complex (exceedingly) novels, with their layers of plots and subplots, their twists and contradictions and unreliable narrators, viewpoint shifts and ambiguities, and a cast of characters in the hundreds. 

And yes, more and more, they differ.  Two roads diverging in the dark of the woods, I suppose... but all of us are still intending that at the end we will arrive at the same place. In the meantime, we hope that the readers and viewers both enjoy the journey.  Or journeys, as the case may be. Sometimes butterflies grow into dragons.

This is GRRM in August 2022, before the premiere of HOTD (When he started getting more critical of D&D’s adaptation) when asked about whether HOTD was canon or not

It opens a very large area for discussion. And I’ve been asked about this by various other interviewers in various forms and interviews past. And I often respond with the question for the questioner how many children did Scarlett O’Hara have?

They (D&D) started making changes even as early as season one . And I remember I had discussions with them back in season one. When I was more involved in the process, when we’d discuss things and the fact that they removed Jeyne Poole was a very early thing.

They actually said, oh no, Jeyne Poole is in it. You see the girl that’s sitting next to Sansa in the one scene in the feast at Winterfell. Yes, that’s Jeyne Poole, but you never hear a name and she’s not in it, but I did tell them. ‘Yes, but there’s the butterfly effect’, as I called it, deriving from the famous Ray Bradbury story, A Sound of Thunder, crush a butterfly the Jurassic and suddenly you changed all of human history from that point forward.

Unintentionally. A little change in a long narrative can have big changes further on. And now, Gone with the Wind didn’t have to worry about that, cause those two children that they removed never had any impact on the story. And Margaret Mitchell didn’t go on to write 6 more novels in which the children grew up and became the leader of the Ku Klux Klan. Whatever the hell, you know, she might have done with those two boys.

And I think they were both boys, and Rhett’s daughter was a girl. So she didn’t have to deal with the butterfly effect there. You know, when we remove Jeyne Poole from season one, then you don’t have Jeyne Poole to be the fake Arya, as happens in the book. So what do you do then? The butterfly effect has done that.

There is then a discussion in there about how The Expanse was a far better adaptation (I agree!) because the book writers were actually in the writer’s room and involved in the process of combining characters and plots.  And then GRRM says this:

They (Expanse writers Ty and Daniel) would be in the writer’s room and the showrunner, who was not them, initially, would say, we’re gonna remove this person. And you know, Ty or Daniel would say, we could do that. But then when you get to season four, there’s gonna be a problem because you took that other thing.

The butterfly effect can have that, but getting back to the whole issue of canon, the butterfly effect affects the canon. But there’s also sometimes deliberate changes in a show where the showrunners or the writers or the studio, the network, or wherever it comes from, goes in a different direction. So what we’re doing at this point in the history of A Song of Ice and Fire, Game of Thrones, Westeros, whatever you wanna call it.

Yeah. We have two canons. We have the show canon, the Game of Thrones canon. And we have the Song of Ice and Fire canon. And in the book canon, obviously, still writing The Winds of Winter, I’m sure you all know that, and then there’s another book beyond that. And as I write them, and I’ve said this in a previous blog post, I always knew that things were gonna be different, but as I’m writing, as the stories are coming alive, and the characters are coming alive, taking me further and further away from the show.

So there’s gonna be some very considerable differences, and the book canon is gonna be quite different from the show canon as we get deeper into it.

So this is GRRM very clearly spelling it out that replacing Jeyne Poole or fake Arya with Sansa on the show has split wide open the book and the show canon with there being a GOT canon i.e what happened on the show and a book canon i.e the events with fake Arya in the North.

GRRM even mentions how the Jon Snow sequel is tricky because the show’s canon is now different to the books.

Their version of Euron Greyjoy is day and night from my version of Euron Greyjoy and similar changes. There are two different canons. Now, because most of these shows that we’re developing, almost all of them are prequels. I think it’s a single canon. Because all of these prequels can lead up to Game of Thrones at the beginning. The one that’s a little trickier is the Jon Snow show, cause that’s the only sequel. That being said, it’s a little tricky. It keeps me busy and I don’t know what’s gonna come, but we do have, as I say, a number of different shows in development, every one has a different showrunner.

This is why it simply makes no sense when people combine the show and the books when talking about these characters. When certain book plots and show plots are selectively chosen and combined to argue about this or that character’s endings. The one has nothing to do with the other.

As the author himself has made obviously clear, when D&D replaced Jeyne Poole with Sansa, the show split from book canon and became it’s own thing. Everything from that point forwards on the show is Game of Thrones and not A Song of Ice and Fire. To know what happens to book Arya, Jon, Dany, Sansa etc we need GRRM to finish the books with his characters and the story he is telling.

[late-to-the-party-81]

Sweet Spring Showers

AN: This fic is for Beanie’s Double-Trouble Sleepover #rolling into spring writing challenge. I tried to make it dark, @springdandelixn by my characters refused. Enjoy the smut instead.

Beta’d by @lunarbuck

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and mood board and banner by me.

Master list

Relationship: Queen’s Handmaiden Reader x Prince Loki

Word Count: 3.5k

CW: More fluff than was intended, flirting and banter, casual sex, smut (inc Oral - f receiving, Unprotected PinV sex, fast recovery) Loki has a ‘King/God’ kink, various mentions of norse mythology.

You tripped down the palace steps into the garden, the soft fabric of your dress flowing behind you. It had been a busy morning, and you needed to take a break from your duties as one of the Queen’s maids. Spring was finally here, and the weather was now warm enough to go for walks without having to bundle up first. 

As somewhat of a free spirit, you resented the time it took in the Winter to get ready, impatient to just get on with what you wanted to do. Anything that interrupted your ideas and plans was met with a scornful look and mumbling under your breath, much to the disappointment of Queen Frigga, who still hoped you could be transformed into a proper lady. You were lucky that she liked you, or you’d have been kicked out of your position years ago.

You wound your way down the paths, entranced by the early blooming flowers, striving to cover the garden in a blanket of cover. Birds chirped, and you watched them fly to and fro with small twigs and clumps of moss as they set out to build their nests. The sun was high in the sky, and as you stepped under its rays, you felt them warm your skin. The sensation made you smile. Spring really was your favourite season, bringing with it the promise of renewal and new life.

You wandered further, away from the formal gardens and into the more natural area behind them. Thin dirt paths led in every direction, deep into the trees. You knew from experience that they led towards pergolas, follies, and love seats, places to rest and take in the beauty of nature. You decided to head towards your favourite of these places, which was also the most out of the way one. If anyone wanted to find you, to get you to carry out some tedious task, it would take them a while and give you more time to yourself.

Your movements were graceful as you half-walked, half-skipped down the track, skirts still billowing and fluttering in the breeze. You plucked the odd flower here and the odd flower there, placing them into your hair like a crown.

“Beautiful, as always, my dear.”

You let out a startled shriek and spun on your heel, only to find the grinning face and sparkling eyes of Prince Loki fixed on you. He walked out from between the trees with languid movements, a feline-like grace. It was one of the many ways he was different from his brother, Prince Thor. Light and dark. Broad and slim. Loud and quiet. Brash and considered.

You dropped into a deep curtsy, keeping your eyes trained on his black leather boots. 

“Your Highness.”

“Oh, get up, please. There’s just the two of us here, in the most informal setting ever.”

You looked up at him as you stood back up.

“Much better,” he purred. “If I ever desire you to kneel, dove, you’ll know about it.”

You raised your hand in front of your face and giggled at his implication.

“I have no doubt that you have any number of people ready to kneel for you, Highness.”

He raised his eyebrow and smirked before offering the crook of his arm towards you. You bobbed a small curtsy and, with a smile, looped your arm into his. You both started to stroll down the track, further into the woodland.

“The problem with that, dove, is that it’s boring. Where is the fun, the excitement, when everyone is willing to bend over backwards to do what you want?”

“Nice problem to have, though.” 

Loki chuckled.

“Are you telling me that you don’t have the same problem?”

It was your turn to smirk.

“Me? I’m just a maid, and you’re a prince. I won’t lie, I get my fair amount of attention, but probably nothing compared to you.”

“I fear my mother would have an aneurysm if she knew I was talking to one of her trusted servants about such improper things.”

“You’re beloved mother would roll her eyes and then quietly chastise me - I am known to be the least lady-like of her ladies.”

You let go of his arm and skipped in front of him, spinning around and throwing your arms up in the air.

“She despairs of me, but luckily, I’m her favourite. I just find it difficult to hold my tongue when someone says or does something stupid.”

Loki reached out and snagged your hand and lifted both your arms, twirling you under them.

“How could anyone tame such a nymph as you? I must say you look a lot happier out here than when I’ve seen you by my mother’s side.”

His smile was warm, and you blossomed under it like a flower beneath the sun. Most of the folk who approached you did so in hope of taking advantage of your influence with the Queen. Not that you had much - those people always imagined you had her right ear and were able to manipulate policies and treaties, which was ludicrous. The only thing you could sway was which dress and jewels she wore, and even then you’d say your success rate was less than 50%.

It was nice though, to have a conversation with someone who had no ulterior motive for being nice to you. It wasn’t as though you’d be able to help advance a member of the royal family. His tone was light and flirty, and he was exceedingly charming, and it was fun to have some harmless fun. It’s not like he was really interested. Probably just doing the same as you and escaping the stuffiness of both the palace and your individual roles.

Somehow, when you’d come back to his side, you’d ended up with his arm over your shoulder. You couldn’t say that you minded. It brought you closer to him, and you could smell the scent that was distinctly Loki; leather, sandalwood, and a perfumed musk. It was obvious that he cared for his appearance, but he didn’t primp or overdo it.

“So, is that what brings you out here, Nymph? My mother’s despair?”

“Oh no - not today, well at least not yet. I was going mad being trapped inside over Winter, so now that Spring is raising its head, I decided to venture forth and bask in her beauty.”

“Well that decision was fortuitous, as it allows me to bask in yours.”

With a giggle, you bumped your shoulder up against his side. He really was fun to be around.

“And, if I may ask, my Prince, why are you out here today?”

He squeezed your shoulder with his hand, and you were hyper-aware of the way his long, tapered fingers dug gently but firmly into your flesh. A rush of images raced through your mind, and you fought hard to squash them down.

“Anything is better than listening to my father try to teach my brother about affairs of state. While Thor is very skilled at a lot of things, diplomacy and negotiation are not his strong suites, but you didn’t hear that from me, Nymph.”

You smiled and mimed locking your lips with a key. When he smiled back and brushed your forehead with his lips, you almost expired.

“So where are we wandering too? I take it you had a destination in mind?”

Loki’s question drew you back from the meandering of your own mind.

“Oh? Yes. I quite like the little summer house that’s a bit further down the track. If the weather is inclement, it provides just the right amount of cover, but when it is nice and sunny, it provides useful shade.”

Just then, you shivered, bumps coming up on your bare arms. As you peered up through the canopy of branches above you, you saw that a rather large, grey cloud had come over.

“Oh dear. I think we might need that shelter. That’s the problem with Spring; the weather can turn so quickly.”

The moment the words left your mouth, a large raindrop landed on the end of your nose with a large ‘plop’. Then the floodgates opened. One moment it was dry, the next it felt as though someone was trying to dump a bucket of water over you. 

You screeched and with your hands over your head, ineffectually trying to keep your hair dry, you raced down the path, toward your destination. You heard Loki’s footsteps right behind you and the pair of you virtually tumbled through the wooden doors of the summer house, laughing heartily. However, you were now in the shade and with your clothes and skin sodden, you couldn’t repress your shiver of cold. You wrapped your arms around yourself in a desperate attempt to warm up, only to realise that your gauzy dress had turned almost entirely see-through due to the water. The fabric clung to your legs, hips and decolletage, highlighting your soft curves, as well as causing a chill to settle deep into your skin.

You realised that Loki was no longer laughing either, and you looked toward him, only to be trapped in the green of his eyes. They drew you in as they also devoured your form. You were aware of the drumming of the rain on the sloped wooden roof of your shelter. You were aware of the gentle ‘plop’ noise as water rolled off his leathers. You were aware of the delicate movement of his fingers as he took off his emerald cape. You were aware of the beating of your heart as he stepped even closer and threw the sumptuous fabric around your shoulders, drawing you nearer. You were aware of his soft breath as it warmed your chilled lips.

“You are cold, Nymph. Will you let me warm you?”

His voice permeated your senses as if you were in a dream; warm, soft, all-encompassing. There was a tension to the air, but one as delicate as a cobweb. One wrong move, and it would all collapse, leaving virtually nothing in its wake. You took a half step closer, barely a sliver of air separating you.

“Please…” Your whispered plea had barely left you when his lips descended to yours and his arms wrapped tightly around your middle. Your own fingers slid up to his wet hair, tangling in his ebony tresses as you opened yourself to him. He was full of passion, of a strength you’d never imagined, given his usual behaviour, but it was intoxicating, pulling you under his spell.

“Your Highness! Please!” 

You breathed your plea into his mouth, shamelessly rubbing yourself against the prominent bulge in his leather trousers. His hands slid down your back, over the swell of your buttocks, to grasp at your soft thighs, lifting you with his godly strength and taking a few strides to place you down on the small couch. 

He continued to kiss you while his clever fingers dealt with the clasps of your dress, peeling the damp fabric away from your skin and exposing it to the cool air. Your nipples immediately hardened at the sensation, and then you gasped as his hands moved to your breasts, and his thumbs skimmed over the stiffened peaks.

Your own questing fingers pulled ineffectually at his clothes, the leather failing to yield to you. You both heard and felt Loki chuckle, and with a flash of his green seidr, his clothes disappeared. He pulled his lips from yours, leaning back and baring his alabaster skin to your gaze before grinning and then latching back onto the soft flesh of your neck. You moaned at the pleasure and wiggled your lower half, assisting him in fully removing your clothes. The fabric landed on the wooden floor with a wet ‘splat’, but you were now too focused on other things to care. 

Like the warmth from Loki’s lips as they trailed down your next and across your collarbone. Like how one hand rested on your thigh,  and his fingers, despite their gentle grip, felt like a brand, marking you as his. Like how the other hand rested, oh so teasingly, on your mound, his index finger toying with the thatch of curls that grew there. Things like how the muscles of his back and chest felt under your eager fingers. He may have been the slimmer of the two brothers, but he was still made of solid muscle, firm and strong.

As Loki trailed his lips down your body, you moaned and squirmed, eager to feel him more intimately.

“Patience, my Nymph. I don’t want to heat you up too fast.”

Part of you wanted to scream at him, but part of you never wanted this to end. You weren’t stupid - this was only a tryst - a way to pass the time and work out frustrations, so you wanted to commit every second to memory.

Loki’s lips on your inner thigh, his nose grazing against your folds had your back arching, your hands firmly back in his hair now. He teased you for what felt like forever, his breath warming your core and promising so much. You threw your legs over his shoulders, trying to urge him to move forward and put you out of your misery.

“Who am I to you, dove?”

His question surprised you, and you lifted your head as he lifted his eyes, full of confusion.

“Your Highness?”

His fingers started to circle your opening with a feather-like touch, and you whined.

“It’s a simple question, my dear. Who am I to you?”

“You are my Prince, your Highness.”

His lips twitched up with a wry smile as his eyes sparkled like the most priceless emeralds.

“Just a prince? Could a man who was only a prince make your heart beat like the hooves of Sleipnir running along the Bifrost? Could a prince make your cunt weep as Freyja wept when she was left alone by Óðr for months on end?

Oh!

Realisation dawn in your lust-fogged mind.

“No, a Prince could not do that. Which means you are my King, Highness. My God.”

“Yes, Nymph. That I am. And I will show you a glimpse of Vahalla.”

He lowered his head again, fastening straight onto your clit, pulling it between his lips and suckling on it. The fingers that had been teasing your entrance slipped deftly inside you, and you keened. Not only was he pleasuring you with no ulterior motive, but he was actually pleasuring you, something that the majority of your previous lovers either weren’t good at, or didn’t care about. No wonder he was nicknamed ‘Silvertongue’.

Loki’s fingers and lips explored you, learning what made you tremble and what made you cry out under him, and when you unintentionally tugged at his hair, he went where you lead, taking you towards that high heady peak, where the oxygen was thin, causing you to go dizzy before you fell off the edge, your body wracked with ecstasy. You cried out his name, over and over, the only word your mind could remember.

“There you go, dove. That’s it. You came so beautifully for me.” 

A warmth spread through you at his praise, and you opened your arms, inviting him back into your embrace. You needed to feel him near you, feel his weight on you. You longed to envelop him with your body and return the pleasure he had gifted you. He smiled impishly and crawled up your body, trailing kissing up your heated skin, and when he reached your face, he recaptured your lips, letting you taste your own release. His cock nudged your thigh, and you shifted, wordlessly encouraging him to take what he wanted from you.

Without warning, Loki flipped the pair of you, and you found yourself straddling him as his back lay against the soft couch.

“Are you ready to please your king? Fuck yourself on my cock, and make us both feel good.”

Drawing your lower lip between your teeth, you nodded with faux shyness and looked down.

And got your first proper view of his cock.

For a moment you froze, partly from concern, but mostly from want. You wanted, no needed, him inside you. You could almost imagine the delicious stretch, the immense fullness, and your cunt wept more for him at just the thought.

Your hand wrapped around him, learning him as he’d learnt you. You felt every ridge, every vein, and teased his slit with your thumb. When he let out a hiss, you smirked, feeling pride in your chest at making him lose his composure, albeit briefly.

“Norns! You are testing my patience, Nymph. Don’t keep your king waiting…”

You smiled, as mischievous as he’d been only a few minutes previously.

“Good things come to those who wait, Your Highness.”

However, despite your words, you gave in to his entreaties. You rose up on your knees and with your hand, positioned him at your entrance. You teased both of you for a moment, swirling his broad head through your wetness before, spurred on by a brief growl, you slowly let yourself sink down.

The stretch was as good as you’d imagined, and you had to bounce slowly and gently to ease him inside of you. You did so with your head thrown back, your hands holding your own breasts while Loki’s hands gripped your waist, steadying you. When your inner thighs met his hips, you moaned at how deep he was inside you. You lowered a hand to rest on his firm chest, steadying yourself.

“You are definitely a God, Highness. No Prince, no mere mortal, could fill me like this.” His eyes flashed with triumphant amusement, pleasure at you indulging his whims.

Slowly, you rose up, letting him slide from the clutch of your cunt until only the tip remained, teasing your sensitive entrance, before sliding back down to feel him fully again. You repeated the movement, and while your intention was to make it last, the feeling was too intoxicating, and within moments you were riding him fast and hard.

Loki didn’t seem to mind though - if his expression was anything to go by when you glimpsed it from between your hooded eyelids, he was greatly enjoying your abandon. The hands on your waist tightened, and you hoped he would leave marks, so you would have a physical reminder of this encounter for even longer.

With each upwards movement of your body, his thick cock stroked over your walls, and with each counter-movement, his tip nudged over that spot inside you, and the neat thatch of hair at his base scratched wonderfully over your engorged clit. You could feel your orgasm approaching once more, and your movements became more frantic.

When Loki sat up, pulling you to him and burying his head in your chest to suckle on your breasts, you were done for. The pleasure barreled into you, knocking you back off that cliff edge, leaving you a trembling and mewling mess in his strong arms. The world tilted once again, and you felt the soft sofa fabric at your back before your entire focus became how Loki was now rutting into you with hard, feral strokes, chasing his own high. With a shout, he threw his head back, and you saw the veins in his neck pulse in time with his cock that was buried deep inside you.

For a moment, you had an unobstructed view of his torso, and you took the chance to memorise every part that you could see, before he dropped back down, smiling and panting, hips still flush to yours, prolonging the intimacy for as long as possible.

You wound your arms around his neck and smiled back. Coils of his damp hair slid over his shoulder, and a water droplet rolled down a strand to land on your collarbone with a soft ‘splat’. Loki looked at the small puddle on your skin as if becoming aware of both your soaked states for the first time.

“I should fix that.”

Another flash of green and you were both dry. Loki’s hair was now fluffed up around his shoulders. Turning your head towards the sodden pile that was your dress, you saw to your amazement that it was now perfectly dry and neatly folded. You looked back at the Prince and raised an eyebrow.

“Did you just dry us and our clothes off with your magic? Why didn’t you do that earlier?”

He grinned, his expression somewhat sheepish.

“Wouldn’t have been nearly romantic if I had, would it?”

You laughed, unintentionally clenching down on where he was still encompassed by your soft heat. In response, Loki moaned and gave a tentative thrust. 

“Again, Highness? Already?” You were both shocked and aroused by his quick recovery.

“Well, I am a God, Nymph.”

His lips captured yours once more as the spring rain continued to fall outside.

Tag List: @jobean12-blog @tuiccim @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @talia-rumlow @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @writing-for-marvel @animnerd @strangeprincex @mochie85

[aetherdoesthings]

more nico robin x gn! reader please 🙏 🙏 🙏 loved the last one 🙌

hello anon! thank you so much for the compliment!! i'm glad you enjoyed it! i hope you (and everyone else) enjoy this one.

forethoughts: idk this turned out to be four pages long. 1am writing sessions hits different ig.

characters included: luffy, zoro, nami, usopp, sanji, chopper, robin, franky (no brook or jinbei bc i'm still on eneis lobby and don't really have a good sense of their character yet)

notes: pet name 'sweetheart', no Y/Ns, gn!reader, happy new year guys.

The day before January first was always fun on the Sunny;  you’ve grown to love the parties and festivities the Straw Hats would hold on each seasonal event ever since you joined. Sanji always made the best Christmas breakfast, lunch and (most importantly) dinner. Zoro somehow found a large barrel of ale and miraculously brought it back onto the ship. Franky and Nami would decorate the Sunny, Franky hanging up most of the stockings and Nami commandeering him so the ship would look ‘aesthetically pleasing’. Usopp (with Chopper’s help) would make firecrackers to light up when night falls and the clock hits 12:00am. And the captain himself would be either locked up for trying to steal food from the kitchen or messing up Nami’s decorations. But what were you and Robin doing? Shopping, of course. Docking at the nearest island, Nami had tasked the two of you to go shopping to buy more decorations and ‘cute looking things’. You gladly took up the offer to go out shopping, even though you deemed it boring. After all, Nami was giving you a wad of money to spend (without reimbursing you or Robin), and you got to spend time with your girlfriend. 

“Alright, we’ll pick all of these up before the sun sets.” Robin reassured the navigator, taking the list Nami had made as the two of you made your way into town. All the while, you held onto her hand, forcing you to walk the same pace as Robin did and not speedrun through the whole list. You loved spending time with Robin; you were probably the clingliest person in the entire world. But the idea of going out to buy decorations didn’t stimulate your brain in a way you wanted to be stimulated.

“Don’t rush, sweetheart.” Robin squeezed your hand gently, her head turning towards you. You shrunk in your stature at her gentle words. Robin was very much taller than you, and she loved to tease you about it.

“I’m not rushing.” You answer coyly, meeting her gaze with a playful look.

Robin smiled at your response, fully knowing you were most definitely trying to rush this, just so you could go back to the Sunny to cuddle in bed with her. Your heart melted at her smile, as you immediately slowed down, tilting your head to hide the blush that was slowly spreading on your face.

“I know you find shopping boring, but remember why we’re doing this. Would you like our dear navigator to give you a pounding when she finds out we brought back nothing?” Robin chided softly.

“That’s not going to happen. You’re with me. You’re going to let the list done!” 

“And how would you contribute?”

“Moral and emotional support!” You say adamantly.

Robin raised an eyebrow, chuckling at your response. “My, I was not aware a task like this required moral and emotional support.”

“What if I help carry the bags?”

A warm, gentle finger cupped your chin, as it forced your head to face Robin without using much strength. The finger made your way to your nose, tapping on it as Robin smiled at you. “I would love that, sweetheart.”

You smiled widely like a dumb idiot, intertwining your fingers with Robin as the two of you made your way deeper into the market. As Robin led your body towards whatever stall that had what you were looking for, your mind began to wander. Ever since you and Robin made it official, every Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas was always a surprise to you. When you first met the Straw Hat’s archaeologist, you didn’t expect her to be much of a romantic person, and you were fine with that when you got into a relationship with her. She had her own way of showing love, and everytime you saw a glimpse of it, it made you heart melt and feel like you were the luckiest person in the world. This Christmas, she had hung mistletoes on every inch of the ceiling of your shared room and made you reach euphoria that night. Robin was always the best gift giver. It always made you feel bad whenever you gave your gift to her, but her words and hands always made you feel a bit better. But this time, this New Year’s party, you were going to change it. Definitely.

With that challenge in your head, you were stimulated and started to observe shop after shop, hunting for the best gift you knew Robin would like.

But of course, the ever observant Robin caught onto your immediate interest in the stalls on your left and right.

“Is there something you’re looking for, sweetheart?” Robin asked, tilting her head.

You spun your head towards her, trying to put on the most innocent smile you could muster, thinking of the best lie that wouldn’t raise too much red flags. “Maybe.”

Robin looked at you in the eyes, that same poker smile on her face you never could really tell. “Alright, then.” 

She reached into her pocket, pulling out her wallet as she gave you a wad of beli. 

“I’ll meet you back at the Sunny, okay? I have enough hands to help me carry the stuff Nami wants.” She pressed her lips against your forehead, running the backside of her fingers down your cheek.

Your heart warmed, your mind set on the challenge you had set for yourself. You felt bad that you had to abandon Robin, but your mind reminded you what this was all for. You pecked a kiss on her cheek, smiling brightly. “Thanks, Robin!” 

Before you heard her response, you dashed off into the market, hunting for ‘the perfect gift’.

-

Your heart was beating and out of sync of your breathing, as your forehead glimmered with beads of sweat. You were certain you made it before Robin, your efforts further strengthening your thought. You boarded the Sunny, hiding your wrapped gift behind your back as you snuck into your shared room. If Nami caught you on board, she would’ve hounded you for the bags upon bags of stuff she had sent you and Robin out, and if she found out you did not have what she wanted, you were certain you were going to get a pounding. 

As you crept towards your room, your mind was racing with all the possible faces Robin would make when you gave her your gift. Shock? Happiness? That one face that made your heart melt and legs wobbly? 

You placed your hand on the doorknob, entering your room…

…only to be met with a sight that made your heart drop and shoulders slump.

Your bed was covered in flowers--the specific type you loved. Petals outlined the bed, bouquets of boquets of flowers placed in the center that formed a heart shape. Jaw agape, eyes wide, you stared at the image in front of you, immediately feeling bad about the gift you held in your numb hand.

No, this had to be a joke. No way Robin, who had to deal with Nami’s monster list, and had to carry everything, made it back to the Sunny before you. Someone on board was playing a joke on you. Then again, no one was allowed into your room except for Chopper and Nami. 

Well, Robin does have her devil fruit. You thought. As if right on cue, the door to your room closed, your body nowhere near the door. You turned your hand around, just watching a pink flower petal drift away before turning your head back to the bed.

“Shit!” You yelped, jumping back as your heart skipped a beat. Robin was there standing in front of you, appearing out of nowhere. You exhaled loudly, recovering from the jumpscare your girlfriend gave you before facing her.

“How did you get here before me?” You questioned.

“There was no list.” Robin smiled at you, taking interest in what you were holding.

“What do you mean, there was no list?” You paused, looking at the wooden floorboard. 

“Nami faked that list.” You stated after a while of thinking.

“She did.” Robin answered.

“So she could help set all of this up?”

“Most of it.”

“So we went out basically for nothing?”

“Not nothing, sweetheart.” Robin advanced towards you, placing a finger on the wrapped box in your hand. “I wouldn’t count this as nothing.”

“Oh! Um, uh, you don’t need to-” You quickly pulled away, hiding the gift behind your back.

“Sweetheart, please. I would like to see what you found in the market.” Robin smiled warmly at you.

Letting out a sigh, you surrendered to her request, putting the gift in front of her. “I-I went around the shops finding everything you like and placed it all in one box for you. It’s just a gift I wanted to give you for New Year’s, since you always give me such good gifts every year and I’m not that good of a gift giver, so-”

“Nonsense, sweetheart. May I open it?” Robin took the gift, admiring the wrapping paper around the box.

“Sure…” You mumbled, watching Robin’s hands rip the wrapping paper off, opening the cardboard box. 

“Sweetheart… this is beautiful.” You looked up from the floor to gaze at Robin’s face. Yep. There was that smile that made your cheeks flush, legs wobbly, and heart skipping. She took each little item from the box, putting it in the air to admire it before moving on to the next. You watched her admire a necklace, a ring, a book she had been wanting to read for a while, and a fountain pen, her smile getting wider and wider with each item.

“Really?” 

“Yes! Oh, I love it so much!” Robin smiled, setting the box on the nearby desk that was covered in books and scrolls. She bent down, hugging you tightly as she kissed you deeply, pulling away to cup your cheeks.

“Sweetheart, your gifts aren’t terrible. Your gifts are always so thoughtful and I’ll always treasure it and hold it to my heart. I love your gifts, I love that you took the time to get the gifts and choose which one you’d think I’d like best. I love you for taking the time to carefully select each item in that box. I love you and I love all your gifts.” Robin pressed her forehead against yours, wrapping her arms around your neck.

You stared into her eyes, your jaw glued to the floor as you stared at her like an idiot. The closeness the two of you were didn’t make the situation any better.

“I love you too, and I love all the gifts you give me every time.” You finally uttered out.

Robin smiled, leaning in to press her lips against yours, as she brought your body closer to the bed, gently pushing you into the bouquets of flowers. She crawled on top of you, those sweet lips hovering above your face.

“Happy New Year, sweetheart.” Robin whispered.

[adickaboutspoons]

Put your tiny hand in mine

So about the "father figure Izzy."

"You're my only family" landed like a sucker-punch with me when 2x8 first aired, leaving me bewildered, disgusted, and more than a little angry. Izzy as Ed's family? Since. Fucking. WHEN??? At BEST, Izzy was a shitty, insubordinate employee whose absence bothered Ed not one jot or tittle, and whose entitled possessiveness led him to think he could control Ed through threats of escalating, and eventually state-backed violence.

But more bewildering and alienating than that one, infuriating line has been seeing the fandom discourse embrace that idea, first with some people claiming that it's what they've been saying all along (I don't want to call them liars, but I have been in the fandom since April 2022, and it was not a take that I saw before the end of s2. But perhaps it was something said on a Discord I'm not privy to, or on twitter or something; I do most of my fandoming right here, and my feed is heavily curated, so there's a non-zero chance that it was a popular take that just never floated into my orbit), then slowly but insidiously becoming the predominant take, with its adopters going so far as to say that the dynamic has been there all along, that it was clearly always the intention of the writers that we read Ed's relation to Izzy that way, and that anyone who denies the dynamic is clearly willfully reading against the text. And all of this in the wake of a pull quote from ONE Djenks interview where he said the words "father figure." *sigh*

So the last time I looked to DJenks interviews for insight into his and the other writer's thought process I got taken to task for poor media literacy and not understanding that quotes can be misconstrued or taken out of context and that reporters have agendas to which they bend the narrative of their articles, and that when creative are giving interviews, their job is to sell the product, not necessarily convey their deepest, heart-felt truths. Which? Didn't love, but fair enough - it really is important to hold one another to account and make sure we’re not just seeing what we want to see, and context IS important. But I also hope that we can agree that if one uses similar or identical verbiage in more than one interview, across venues, with different interviewers, and across time, then it’s reasonable to assume that really IS a what the person thinks, or, at the v. least, a decided Talking Point that one is comfortable being the Official Narrative regarding the creative process. So with that in mind, y’all are aware that DJenks has some v. specific insight about exactly when the idea of “father figure Izzy” came into the writing process, right? (In the interest of not being accused of taking things out of context again, I am providing the date and the venue so you can look it up yourself if you like, the question immediately proceeding the quote, and DJenks' response. The only alteration I have made is bolding the relevant text)

Oct 26, 2023, EW: A lot of these characters have evolved over two seasons, but it seems like Izzy has gone through one of the biggest evolutions. He went from being so dismissive of the others to being a key part of the crew. What interested you most about his arc? Jenkins: You know, I didn't expect him to become kind of a father figure to Ed. I think we hit on that while we were breaking the [final] episode. He's in such a weird position: He's like a jilted lover, and then he's a middle manager who has to work for a terrible boss. He gets thrown away, and then he comes back. He really develops, and he becomes a part of this family. I think the biggest surprise was the extent that he was a mentor to Ed. They were both Blackbeard. They both made Blackbeard happen. Oct 26, 2023, Paste: Speaking of that funeral, Con O’Neill played Izzy’s journey across two seasons so beautifully. When did it come to you that his last words to Ed about just being himself were going to have such an impact? Jenkins: It’s kind of a strange arc in that I knew we were going to put him through all these things, and I knew he would ultimately die. But I think him becoming a father figure to Ed in the last episode didn’t really dawn on us until we were breaking the last episode. Asking what would this man say to Ed at the end because they’ve been together through everything? He went from a troubled and downtrodden employee to a jilted lover to a discarded employee, to someone that is just trying to find his footing again—no pun intended—to actually becoming this guy’s parental figure on some level. And he’s one person who kind of raised Ed right, because Blackbeard usually kills his parental figures. So, it felt right and it felt like that’s how the mentor dies. The mentor in a story usually dies in the second act and then our hero has to go on and try to do it without them. It felt like the right journey for Izzy and a gratifying one for Con Oct 26, 2023 Vulture: It seems like it took being almost at death’s door for [Izzy] to be vulnerable enough to receive and understand that kindness without reflexively telling them to fuck off. Jenkins: Both Izzy and Blackbeard have ego deaths this season. And on the other side of the ego deaths, weirdly, Izzy is a father figure to Ed. It’s such an unusual journey. The character is kind of a jilted lover who then becomes a maimed and discarded employee and emerges from that into being a father figure who says as he’s dying, “You’re all right. Just be you.” Oct 26, 2023, Variety: “To kill a character is such a big thing, even in a world that is this violent,” Jenkins says. “We had to do justice to Izzy, and to that relationship between he and Ed. There is a nice parallel to have Ed treat him so badly at the beginning of the season and then come all the way around to where Izzy is this sort of father figure he doesn’t want to lose — because Ed usually kills his father figures.”

So. I think it's more than clear that the writers stumbled into the idea of Izzy being Ed’s father-figure while writing nearly the very last part of the very last episode. It was never the intention that the character be read that way in the first season, and, as far as I can tell, they didn't even bother retconning what they'd already written in the second season to organically lead to that conclusion.

But, oh my v. dears! Take my hand. Close your eyes. Make a wish. Count to three. I’m here to tell you that NONE OF WHAT DJENKS SAID MATTERS when it comes to analyzing the text of the show as it exists in the wild. You can and SHOULD be just as dismissive of what he had to say about the intentions of the writers as, no doubt, a number of you have already decided to be dismissive about what I have to say. The author is dead! Long live the interpreter! Because, just because it wasn't intended doesn't mean it's not there in the text. After all, Alex Sherman also once said the writers didn't intentionally write Izzy to be racist, and if you're following me (which, lbr, is the only way anyone is going to see this), I think we can all agree that is v. much Not The Case. If you find significance in the idea that Izzy was always a father-figure to Ed all along, and find compelling in-text arguments to support that position, that's fantastic. I love that for you! I disagree, but that doesn't make you bad or wrong - but neither does it make me, or the others like me who were gobsmacked by "you're my only family" and for whom the "father figure Izzy" take holds no water wrong; it just means I have different criteria by which I qualify the term “father figure” than you do, and find the relationship between Ed and Izzy falls short of those metrics. So maybe cool it with the "rip to everyone who's mad about Izzy the father figure" rhetoric? I promise that not everyone who finds the way Izzy's arc was handled in S2 less than satisfactory is a canyonite making bad faith arguments to justify why they're mad they lost their blorbo.