#this is all so new to me but i’m severely brainrotted about it
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i can’t articulate this properly but i love looking at jekyll and hyde through the lens of death vs life/youth vs maturity. it’s so interesting and i feel like i could write a whole essay on it but i don’t know where to start
#i haven’t thought deeply enough about it yet#but there’s quite a few stray thoughts i have#the strange case of dr jekyll and mr hyde#henry jekyll#edward hyde#mr. hyde#dr. jekyll and mr. hyde#dr. jekyll#jekyll and hyde#youth vs maturity is an obvious one but life/death#is super interesting to me (also inherently related to youth/maturity) and i need to find the words for it#btw i just read jekyll and hyde at the beginning of this month#this is all so new to me but i’m severely brainrotted about it#also also also jekyll losing his only two friends throughout the story is so relevant to the themes of maturity vs youth it’s so it’s so#i need to look for more discussion abt utterson/jekyll/lanyon’s friendship dwindling and how it coincides#SO heavily with that whole idea#i genuinely think that part of the story is so interesting and how utterson is actively fighting to keep the friendship alive and failing#and aghhhh#jekyll and hyde is really just a tragedy about a bunch of friends falling out (joke)#but srsly i love it. so much. it’s so sad
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Batlantern Headcanons Because I Found My New Brainrot and I Cannot Contain Myself (Platonic or Romantic, You Decide <3)
Hal is the only one who gets away with calling Bruce nicknames. Oliver tried calling Bruce “Spooky” once. He still has nightmares.
Several long-winded missions combined with Hal’s couch-surfing escapades have resulted in Hal having his own official Wayne guest room.
Alfred has smacked Hal with a dish towel several times. Reasons include: trying to wash the dishes, using a mini vac that he brought from home, and spitting gum into the garbage without wrapping it in a tissue first.
Tim gave Hal all of their streaming passwords to piss Bruce off. Hal proceeded to make his own profiles because he fears nothing, so Bruce changed all of his profile names to “Parasite.” Since then, it’s turned into an all-out war of renaming Hal’s profile every time they’re using it.
Highlights so far have included Sugar Baby, Freeloader, Ring Pop, Green Abomination, Magical Girl, Noisemaker, The Better Side Piece, and This is Your Official Eviction Notice Hal. (Bruce still hasn’t changed the passwords.)
Hal: You need to let go of your fear, Bats. Let’s do a simple breathing exercise. Bruce: I am breathing. Hal: No, like calming breaths. Follow my lead, okay? In- no, not that fast. Maybe close your eyes first. In…and out-No. No. Are you having a panic attack? Do I need to call someone?
For one mission, a few other JL members had to go undercover as couples. Bruce and Hal were the spares and paired up out of necessity. To everyone’s surprise, however, they were the most convincing duo because they “bickered like an old married couple.”
Bruce: I’m growing soft, Clark. I’m weak now. Clark: You told Hal ‘Good job.’ What’s wrong with that? Bruce: It’s unprofessional! *in the other room* Hal: I think Batman just confessed his undying love to me.
They have each other’s coffee orders memorized and regularly prepare the other’s coffee for them out of habit when they’re together.
After a while, Hal stops playfully flirting with everyone and reserves it only for Bruce because he gives the best reactions.
At a ‘Thank You, Justice League’ party hosted by Bruce Wayne, Hal slips up and flirts with Bruce in his civvies, only for Brucie Wayne to flirt back without missing a beat.
Hal had to go cool down in the bathroom for a few minutes. He was not ready for that. (Bruce is so fucking smug too. He’s been waiting FOREVER to give Hal a taste of his own medicine.)
Hal, introducing Bruce to the Lantern Corp: This is my pet bat. Careful, he bites.
Bruce, introducing Hal to new JL members: This is my partner. He’s been in training for ten years.
During an important strategy meeting, Hal waves his hand around, and Bruce just sighs. “What now, Lantern?” “Your plan of attack has like four holes in it.” “Where?” Hal gestures to the areas and suggests different strategies, and suddenly Bruce is like Does anyone else think it’s hot in here?
He lies in bed that night contemplating every single life event that’s lead up to Hal Fucking Jordan turning him on with his impeccable battle strategy.
Barry: I think Batman’s mad at me. He didn’t even react when I told him about the great rescue mission from last week. Hal: What do you mean? He was smiling the whole time. Barry: His face didn’t move an inch. Hal: You didn’t notice the lip twitch?
Batman has blackmail material on every single Justice League member, but only Hal has blackmail material on Bruce and the guts to use it. (Hal knows Bruce gets pedicures for fun. And he gets little designs on his toes too.)
Arthur: So when did you and Green Lantern start….you know. Bruce: No, I do not. What did we start? Arthur: You know what?! I think I forgot to walk my fish. Bye!
*Barry sees Hal with a hickey while they’re drinking coffee* Barry, jokingly: Did Bruce give you that? Hal: Yes, actually. How’d you know? Barry, backing away frantically: Oh okay, cool! Okay okay. Cool. Cool cool cool. Okay. Bruce, entering: What’s with him? Hal: I don’t know. He doesn’t seem to like the mug you bought me, though.
The JL has a betting pool called “BatLantern FMK” where they bet on which will happen first: will they fuck, marry, or kill each other?
Only Clark, Diana, and J’onn know that one of them happened already
#batlantern#they're made for each other your honor#batman lives through fear and hal has NO fear#did they fuck their feelings out marry for convenience or kill each other in an alternate universe you decide#batlantern are my little blorbos#i will die on this hill#bruhal#batman#green lantern#bruce wayne#hal jordan#dc#justice league#dc universe#dc comics#brucie wayne#alfred pennyworth#tim drake#oliver queen#barry allen#clark kent#j'onn j'onzz#diana prince#arthur curry
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Heat → Miguel O’Hara
pairing: miguel o’hara x afab!reader
warnings: smut! MDNI! there’s no piv, just dry (wet) hmping. dom!miguel. panty fcking. light degrading. mentions of menstrual cycle.
prompt: Miguel doesn’t take his rapture serum, letting his more animalistic tendencies surface.
note: this has been my brainrot for several days now bc my bf did it to me and i😵💫 please practice safe & clean sex! you can mess up your pH balance especially with something like this, so please make sure you know the proper aftercare. love u
He could smell you. The scent of your wet slick between your thighs sent him in a frenzy, not to mention that you were ovulating. So this intense wave of horniness would hit you randomly. You’d been trying so hard to concentrate on the mission report that Jess was delivering, squeezing your thighs to gain some friction.
As Jess wrapped up the mission report, Miguel dismissed everyone. Everyone except for you. A wave of panic shot through you. You knew there was better choices to be made during the mission, but was it worth getting reprimanded for?
“What is this about?” you spoke softly, stepping forward. The release of your tightened thighs only released the scent of your dripping pussy even more so. As you stepped closer, the scent filled his nostrils and he had to stop his eyes from rolling back.
“You were helping Lyla reproduce my rampage serum earlier this week.” Miguel finally spoke after what seemed like an eternity. He wasn’t asking, he was stating the fact. So you were unsure what he wanted from you.
“Yeah, you had me stay back from a mission because I was feeling unwell.” you period was so crippling that day. You still wanted to make an impact so you asked Miguel for an alternative project to work on. “Is there a problem?”
The question made him chuckle dryly. You felt her pulse at the sound. That, you couldn’t help. He turned giving you what seemed like a grin. A sadistic grin.
“When you updated the inventory,” he waved his hand and a computer monitor came up. Video footage of you storing 6 vials into his cabinet pulled up. You had turned in your rolling chair to lean over as you went to fill out the fields on the computer.
Your name
The date
The serums you were making updates to
The quantity
You squinted your eyes at the footage. Oh. Seemingly enough, you had fatfingered an extra number on the file and saved it carelessly before exiting the lab.
“I was under the impression that I had another 10 vials to last me before I had to make more. I actually would have asked you to assist me in that again, but because of your mistake,” he swiped his hand again, making the video feed disappear and taking a step closer to you, making you instinctively back up. “I am all out.” he wasted no time grabbing you by the neck, forcing you to look up at him. “Do you understand what that means cariño?”
“I’m sorry,” you blurted out, wincing as his grip on your throat tightened. You reached up to grab his wrist, giving it a squeeze.
He ignored your apology. “And while Lyla is scrambling to make a new batch, I have sit here and smell you.” if his teeth wasn’t dripping with venom, his voice was. This didn’t help your problem. You could feel the wetness collecting at the crotch of your suit. The way he was manhandling you? Scolding you as a means to humiliate you? He took a whiff of the air once more, blinking a few times before narrowing his eyes at you. “Is this- Are you getting aroused by this?” you didn’t have to answer, he could smell it.
Due to his lack of rampage, his senses seemed to have heightened. He was more aware, he had to be. He was like an animal released in the wild with no limits to his terrain.
He needed you just as much as you needed him. He’d take you as quickly as he could, oh but he knew it would take patience. As mean and broody as he was, he was still a gentleman, when he wanted to be. Images of you being manhandled, moaning with him touching every inch of your body. He blinked a few times realizing you were using your powers on him. You could project thoughts into ones mind.
“Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop.” he nuzzled his face into your neck, peppering kisses there. Miguel teasingly dragged his fangs against the soft skin at your neck, making you whimper.
“Don’t stop,” you huffed out. Your sexual frustrations were agonizing, body heating up quickly as your dripping slick grew warmer. The sounds that were coming from you reminded Miguel of the sounds that a prey would make when it was caught. The primal instinct was to bite you, mark you as his territory.
A sweet little moan escaped passed your lips. Miguel looked down and seen your thumbs caressing your nipple through your suit. He could see the hardened mound, how painful it looked. The thought of you pleasuring yourself underneath him would have been more than okay… if he wasn’t feeling territorial.
Miguel flicked your hand away, grasping your breast in his free hand, his other still tightly around your throat. He palmed over your sensitive bud, the feeling of a more calloused hand over your boob feeling sensational. You didn’t care how needy your mewls had sounded, you were unbelievably turned on out of your mind. Whatever he was willing to give you, you would take. The moans falling passed your lips were caught with his.
You would occasionally buck your hips into his, emitting a growl as he lightly bit your bottom lip. You needed friction. Anything to relieve the growing pain. With control, you bucked your hips slowly, making sure to drag the pool of wetness onto his suit. You’d let out a breathless ‘heh’ as you felt him through his suit.
Oh and he could feel you alright. The one stroke alone had left a wet on his suit. He quickly commanded for his suit to disappear and he was suddenly bare in front of you.
He was mouthwateringly gorgeous. His chiseled chest through his suit was a masterpiece. And now that it was bare right in front of you? He looked too delicious to be consumed. His waist was slim in comparison to his chest, yet bulky and defined. His happy trail lead down to something that you would consider very happy to see you. It wasn’t just the girth that intimidated you, it was the length as well. How the hell was he going to fit that in you without breaking you or tearing you in half?
He wasted no time in tearing at the crotch of your suit.
“Hey!” you whined. You’d made your own suit. You were actually one of the only spider people without an upgraded suit. The first version of your suit was your now ruined suit.
“I’ll program you another suit princesa,” he panted, gasping as your silky red underwear came into view. Though the wet patch of your underwear presented a more maroon color. He lifted you up on his desk, pushing his keyboard and mouse off in the process. He bent down, taking a whiff of your clothed, soaked pussy.
His eyes glossed over crimson. Miguel wasn’t even sure if he had ever been this aroused before. Maybe it was because he couldn’t remember a damn day where he was out of his serum. He pressed your lips together in a hard kiss, jerking his hips forward so the leaky tip of his cock would press against your puffy clit.
“M’gonna fuck you with your panties on,” he mumbled against your lips. He guided his cock underneath your panties, collecting the wetness from your crying pussy. The tightness of your underwear was enough to keep his cock firmly pressed against your slit.
You bucked your hips eagerly, whimpering as the feeling of his cock against your pussy stimulated the most sensitive part of you. He switched hands; one resumed its position at the base of your neck, pinning you down on his desk and the other held your thigh as it was hiked over his hip.
Miguel rutted his hips, letting out a sigh of relief. Although it wasn’t the inside of your plush, wet heat, this would do. The scent of you enveloped him and he could only imagine what your velvety walls would feel like fluttering around him.
“More, please.” you begged, tears brimming your eyes as you could feel yourself wanting more than just the slow rolling of the hips.
“Oh,” Miguel pursed his lips, looking down at you. “Look at you so desperate for my cock.” he was talking down on you again, making your jaw fall slack as he slowly picked up the pace, stimulating your clitoris a little more.
The sounds that were coming from the underside of his cock rubbing against your wet slit were pornographic almost. Slosh, slosh, slosh. If he could drown in your puddles of wetness, he’d be all in you every second of everyday.
“Cock hungry and I haven’t even been inside of you,” he coo’d. He drew his hips back, the tip of his cock slipping past your folds. Miguel’s eyes locked onto yours as he gently prodded past your pussy lips.
At this point, it was like you were the animal. Bucking your hips in desperation, tears spilling from your eyes as you pleaded - as you begged him to break you. He could take you however he wanted, he could make it hurt, you just needed him.
“You’re gonna shut up and take what I give you, like the slut you are. Do you understand me?” his voice was stern enough to pull you from your cock drunk state. You nodded your head. “Use your words, princesa.”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes sir,” you answered before he shoved his fingers into your mouth, to which you suckled on with joy.
“That’s my good girl,” he gave you positive reinforcement. Slowly begin to move his hips again, only this time he had his thumb placed on top of the fabric of your panties, so he could keep the placement of his cock over your clit.
His pace was unforgiving. The sound of you begging so desperately for his cock echoing. The image of you crying over not being fucked was glued to the back of his eyelids. You were so cock drunk already, it made him wonder how long you’d been thinking about him fucking you.
Images of you fucking yourself with your fingers, free hand pinching your nipple while moaning his name popped up in his head. Here you were, projecting images into his head once more. As he’s fucking you through your panties, he can feel the grip of your mouth releasing his fingers. Your mouth was ajar as he pistoned his hips against yours, your moans and his grunts filling the room.
“Fuck, Miguel,” you moaned, your hand capturing your breast. “Please, can I come?”
How obedient. Still asking him permission after he told you to take whatever it was he was giving. How much were you wrapped around his finger?
“Yeah baby, you can come. Come for me,” he leaned over, mumbling into your ear, his teeth grazing over the shell of your ear. “Come on, be a good girl for me.” hearing that made you whimper in his ear as you released the knot that was forming in your stomach.
“Fuu-“ you whined, arching your back against him. Your walls clenched around nothing, wishing you could milk him for every drop. You felt your body convulse as euphoria took over you, your cheeks flushed red as your legs shook around Miguel. He could feel your hard nipples on his bare chest. In the frenzy you were in, he had no idea how you were even coherent enough to reach down between you two. Your hand kept his cock in place while your thumb circled around his sensitive tip.
His eyes rolled to the back of his head. He imagined the softness of your hands being as soft as you were on the inside as he pounded you. His hips began to stammer as he released his load into your panties, with a guttural moan. His hips slowed and he rested his forehead against yours.
You could feel how heavy your panties were. They were slicked down from the wetness of your pussy, and now they were filled with Miguel’s cum.
“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me,” Miguel muttered.
“Huh?” he heard Jess’ voice in confusion.
He blinked and suddenly Jess, Peter, and you surrounded him. Just as you did during the mission report. Jess and Peter were confused to say the least, but not you.
Your smug grin confirmed Miguel’s thoughts. You had been using your powers to project your sexual fantasies in his head.
“Ay coño,” he whispered under his breath. “I’m gonna fucking kill her.”
#someone tell my bf to dick me down pls i beg#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o’hara x reader#atsv miguel#alia writes
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Liquid Courage
Pairing & Fandom: Female Lavellan x Solas -Dragon Age Word count: 3,238 Warnings - slight lewd descriptions, otherwise pretty fluffy Summary
Solas keeps denying poor Lavellan's advances after settling into Skyhold, and she is getting a bit tired of it. A night drinking then stumbling into his sad little corner might be the push she needs to finally stop dancing around the question and just ask it, and also admit to herself that she is hopelessly in love despite trying not to be.
Author Notes: More brainrot on my lavellan, just reposting this to my Tumblr so the terminal illness can be seen by everyone everywhere for all time. Not fully proofread, several errors here and there but tada! Banner used below is by CafeKitsune!
“It's sad, he makes me sad when I look at him,” Lumine Lavellan grumbled beside Varric. He snorted as he continued to write down words in a letter, shaking his head lightly at Lumine’s glum expression. They had just settled into Skyhold and he was getting together some notes for his companions in Kirkwall. The casual “No I didn’t die,” and “Yes I’m staying with the Inquisition for a bit longer,”
“That's curiosity, Charmer,” Varric replied with another swish of his quill against parchment and a flourish of gathering ink to begin yet another letter.
“No- well, perhaps, back at Haven…” She mumbles to herself. She was still half-slouched half-stood at the table beside her dwarf companion. He inclined his head to her, continuing to listen to her chatter. The background noise of Lumine was becoming his favorite sound in Skyhold.
“But when he led us here, told me things about our people, I really started to wonder… he's alone, yet still so wise? How? Who taught him? What more does he know that he does not share and why-” she heaved a dramatic sigh, making his stack of papers flutter slightly but not become disarray. “-why he never joins us at the tavern, am I bad company, Varric? I think everyone pretty much likes me, I know he enjoys me when we discuss trivial things here and there- yet he never takes up my invitation for a drink?”
Varric pressed a hand to the back of his neck and let out another laugh at the poor young elf’s questions. He had to tell Hawke about this, it reminded him of her, in a strange way.
“Yes, Charmer, you are horrible company—that's why half of Skyhold follows your every flippant whim. " She shoved her shoulder into his playfully, making his quill slip and the letter he had almost finished being swallowed by ink with no intent. He pushed her back jokingly as he stood to fix her mess.
Really. She was just Hawke but in a different coat of paint. Perhaps more charming too, less prone to fighting as well.
“I'm gonna try again Varric, maybe he’ll play Wicked Grace with us and I will be able to make him let down that icy guard of his,” She began, with new reckless stubbornness. Nobody ever said no to her, especially not the men. Varric had purposefully watched when she charmed Curly, the sight was something to behold. The poor boy, a stuttering mess, and a devilish elf just smiling at him. Then there was The Iron Bull, those two took fast to flirting with one another on the battlefield. Some of the things so salacious he had noted to write it down in his next book, Maker, it felt as if those two were trying to win a battle or something with the sly comments they gave one another.
“Yeah, yeah, you can woo Chuckles after you help me clean up your mess. " Somehow, when Varric uttered those words, the spilled ink and ruined parchment suddenly disappeared and were replaced with fresh and clean versions of both. Huh. Noted.
“I appreciate your invitation, but I must decline once again. I am… studying some things,” Solas rejected her yet again, which made her lean against one of the walls that he had yet to paint. Why was he so stubborn? She knew he liked her—or well, he did. They flirted well enough at Haven. What's so different with Skyhold?
“Oh? Like what! Tell me about it, I like hearing about your studies and things,” she quipped, trying to keep him talking for as long as she could. She knew once he stopped they both would recede into different spaces. She would head to the tavern, drink ale and flirt with Bull for fun, cheat at cards with Varric, and be unabashedly herself for a few short hours before she had to be “inquisitor” again.
It reminded her of when she was shuffled between clans to become the First to clan Lavellen, oh how she had to fold into herself there too. Do not run off, do not explore, pay attention, do not speak with humans, your magic is unchecked, blah blah blah.
Perhaps that's why she desperately wanted for Solas to join her, to see her outside of her inquisitor persona and the real her. He had caught glimpses, she was not as subtle with her personality, never was as her Keeper would confirm. Her flippant attitude to certain problems, her joy in parties and victories, her defiance against the idea that mages were “unsafe”. That still wasn’t enough, she wanted him to know her and in turn, her know him. He was interesting, he reminded her of a Keeper she would actually follow, a Keeper who was actually wise. She found herself seeking his guidance, relishing in their talks, and learning far more than ever before… And perhaps when he spoke of how fascinating it would be to see her dominated it sent shivers down her spine and made her begin thinking about the sage elf differently.
“I could not keep the inquisitor away from her companions, the work would bore you either way,” He evaded smoothly, making a turn to look over a book that was sprawled on his desk. She pushed herself off the wall and walked forward, craning her head over his shoulder to peer at the text- ugh, she didn’t understand a lick of it from her quick glance. Yet she did enjoy seeing the spooked expression on Solas’s face as he stepped away.
“Inquisitor, I assure you its-”
“Lumine, call me Lumine,” She beamed, swaying her hips slightly as she watched him squirm under her gaze. He leaned against his desk, inching farther away as she stood in front of him, blocking an easy escape. Yet, he did not make to push past her, how curious.
“...Inquisitor Lumine, please, do not worry about me, I enjoy my time here,” he spoke curtly, and she scoffed, stepping back and walking towards the door. Perhaps that was a bit mean, well, more so than mean. He had just gotten under her skin so terribly bad.
“Right, of course, If the ale doesn’t make me pass out I shall find you again, Solas,” She called over her shoulder, she gave him a toothy grin as she did. She wasn’t someone who gave up on others, especially one that looked so… alone in that rotunda he called his own. Also, she never gave up on someone who didn’t trip at her feet.
Perhaps he had divulged himself too much with his simple flirting and long looks. The strange, yet charming elf, Lavellen, had sunk her teeth into him and refused to let go despite his constant backwalking on past discussions. He thought after a few days of his somber and humble ploy she would saunter off to find another man to set her sights on. For a short while, he thought he was succeeding, until her incessant pestering about catching a drink or playing cards. He was amused by her, flattered even- despite wishing not to be and had not harshly rejected her. He enjoyed her confident walk into the rotunda, the pout after a soft refusal, and her walking away to lick her wounds.
Yes, he enjoyed the game. He enjoyed seeing her eyes light thinking she might have won, then smoldering the flame with another shake of his head. How he enjoyed watching her new ideas and antics, her walk away with a pang of hunger.
Yet he shouldn’t, which is why he keeps denying her advances to the best of his abilities. He had something much more serious to do than devour Lavellan because of his foolish desire. He needed to stop watching the sway of her hips and the way she licked her lips when she ate honeyed treats. He had fleeting thoughts of how they would taste if instead, he licked them clean. How she would tremble and gasp against him-
Right. Focus. He could not be that man. She would find someone else, there were plenty of them lining up that she only bolstered with her teasing. Which is why, when she stumbled into the rotunda long past when the moon had risen, her skin flushed pink and her hair a mess, well- he just had to make sure she was okay, of course. Yes. it was important to confirm the inquisitor did not drink too much. He was just doing the humble apostate mage thing of leading her by the arm over to his couch and helping her lay down.
The ale flowed plentifully, she had tipped her drink back to nothing so many times during the night that Josephine would most definitely need to place new orders for more drinks. How she stumbled up Skyhold’s steps and into the rotunda where her favorite elf would be is nothing short of a miracle. Perhaps she was Andraste’s chosen, for that's the only fathomable reason she didn’t fall on her face when she ascended the first step.
She must say though, seeing the bewildered look of a man deep in thought, the man she desired, who all but pushed aside his work to stride to her side and take her by the arm.
“Inquisitor-” he began. His voice was rough from not using it for several hours. How she loved the sound, it would sound better if he called her name instead, though.
“Lumine” she slurred to correct him. Hoping to win hearing the syllables slip off his tongue with that gruff and tired voice of his.
“Lumine,” she won. Lovely, the sound struck her heart true and she leaned into him. Smelling the scent of ink, paper, and elfroot on his clothes. She let herself be led by him, perhaps because it gave her more of an excuse to practically nuzzle her way into his chest and then was laid down on the couch that sat in the otherwise sparse space. Her ale-addled mind had several pleasing thoughts of how this would continue, his walking away was not one of them.
She sputtered to call after him, trying to lean up but the whooshing sound of blood in her ears and the spinning of the already very round room made her fall back down.
Oh, rotunda, round, of course. Did she truly only drink ale tonight?
“I’ll acquire you some water, Lumine,” Hearing her name again on his tongue, without that stupid title, made her relax back onto the sofa with a content sigh. Fine, so be it, let him grab her some water.
She dozed as she waited, her eyes closing and opening languidly as she took in the veilfire that lit the space. She found her eyes wandering in wonder at the paintings he had done in their time here. Perhaps she could ask him to give her lessons, another way to get more time with him and slip past his defenses. She heard the door click close and soon, there he was. She should make stopping by his room drunk a habit if it meant he doted on her.
“Why, thank you my dear apostate.” She said, her voice intoxicatingly sweet. He sat the water beside her as he smoothed the hair off her brow.
Yes, this shall become a habit of hers.
“It's the least I can do Lumine… How much did you drink exactly?” he asked, his hand slowly sliding away and into his lap where he folded them together- so composed.
“Cups!” she beamed, her voice echoing off the walls and up to wake some of the sleeping crows. He gave her a wry smile and sucked in a sharp breath.
“Why, yes Lumine, cups,” He joked back to her. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled, she saw his sharp canine and felt a sudden flip of her stomach. Was it the drink or the butterflies? Both? Something else?
“Wolfish,” She whispered. She grinned up at the shock that wove across his face. Yes, she was great at this teasing thing even when drunk. At least she knew she still had that effect on him, she was worried truth be told.
“Wolfish and tricky,” she continued. Elated to see the way he shook his head with a bemused expression. She agreed with both her declarations, only now finding the right words to place what he reminded her of. She probably wouldn’t remember it in the morning, how sad she had finally placed the big mystery and she wouldn’t even remember. Perhaps she should write a note down for herself to remember.
“I hope those are compliments, inquisitor,” she groaned at the usage of her stupid title once again. Throwing her arm over her eyes as she pursed her lips, hadn’t they worked past that?
“Please, I beg you, just call me my name, every blasted person in here calls me inquisitor,” she whined, her annoyances at these past few months bubbling up from their hiding place. Maker, she was so tired of it all, how much longer would she have to play yet another act of who the people around her supposed she was? When could she abandon the titles for her own name?
“I am not inquisitor, I am not the First, and I am not a knife-eared mage, I am Lumine Lavellen- witty and charming and whatever other positive words I cannot think of at this moment.” She declared. Yet again making his eyes crinkle and a smile tug at his lips. A shudder of a laugh shook his body as she pouted. Did he find this funny? How rude, she was dead serious.
“Do not laugh, I forbid it, you are a tricky man to get to do anything, did you know? I have been poking and prodding you to come out of that shell of yours,” She babbled on, her train of thought leaving the first thought and jumping to the next as she did. The liquid courage flowing through her veins only allowed her to speak more directly to the apostate sitting beside her.
“You- you do make your intentions noted,” He chuckled, looking away from her as his grip on his folded hands tightened. He was as taut as a bow, why? What had him on the defense so terribly as if he would leap away?
“Well, that's good, I thought my charm had dulled since Haven,” She grumbled, making a move to grab the water and almost tipping the cup over. He practically leaped at the ability to help her, holding the cup for her as she sipped from it. Still, his eyes still seemed to betray his composure. A storm seemed to brew inside of them, and it made her choke on the water that slipped past her lips.
“That's quite impossible, Lumine, you’ve charmed all of the inquisition and half of the Hinterlands, I am no fool to your guile,” He said, his voice low and still carrying edges of roughness from little use during the night. Yet again, her stomach flipped and she felt her skin heat from her face to the tip of her ears.
“Yet you deny my charm, is there- did I misread?” she rushed out, leaning on her elbows and tipping her head closer to him. He tipped back as if getting too close to her could hurt him. Yet she waited, out of spite or fear or something else… She waited to hear his answer.
And that answer took a long time to form, as his eyes flicked back and forth between her and the door.
“You… You did not misread, I just- well, I think… I do not want to distract you from your duties,” He had finally spoken after he gathered his thoughts. She snorted, duties? Can’t he see that's what she wants him to be? A distraction, something to remind her she was still her underneath the heavy weight of saving the world.
She didn’t let her mind wander to the much more dangerous underlying factor that she, in fact, had a crush. It was sickening and she had never gotten one like this before, and well- she liked it, she liked feeling something other than the mounting pressure and the fear of failure.
“You silly man…” She had uttered, which only made him shoot her a confused stare. She grabbed hold of his wrist, running her fingers over the fabric that covered it before dipping it under the sleeve to feel the pulse there. It pounded beneath the pad of her finger, and she pressed down just slightly to see if he would pull away. He didn’t.
“You do not… distract me from my duties, you give me.. A breath of air before I am pulled back under by them,” She began, her finger still rubbing the cool and soft skin of his wrist as she spoke. “If it weren’t for you, Solas, I do not… I cannot see myself coming out of this as well as I have.” She finished, not intending to be so honest about her feelings- about her fears. His other hand softly came up to trace the bones underneath her wrist, before tugging it away from under his sleeve.
She feared he would leave it at that, ignore her silly confession and her soft touches, and say “good night, inquisitor” in that annoying closed-off voice of his that she dreaded. The most beautiful thing occurred instead, for he intertwined his fingers with hers and held her hand. She felt her heart soar as she let out a soft gasp.
The world could end now for all she cared, at this moment she was breathtakingly and maddeningly in love with a man for simply holding her hand. Such a simple act, and yet it broke her.
“I fear for what would happen if we indulged in this, I fear for how it would… look,” He said softly, rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand. She forgot how to breathe, she was sure of it.
“I do not want to make anything… difficult, I do not want to hinder our plans.” She sighed at his touch, feeling her body relax. She was lovesick, horrible, especially for her. The elf inquisitor who boasts about her flirtations, in love, gods…
“You could never be a hindrance, and if anyone were to say a thing I might just throw them off the highest point in Skyhold,” she spoke back softly, her eyelids drooping as she met his gaze. Longing pooled there, and love so true it made her heart stutter. Then, he smiled and pulled her hand to his lips to give the softest of kisses as she felt herself lull into sleep. His words were the last thing she heard, his face the last thing she saw before sleep overtook her.
“Duly noted Lumine, I will keep your words close to heart… though, please do not throw anyone off any balconies for me, understood?” He said, a soft laugh permeating through his comment. She smiled in her sleep as she felt him again reach to smooth her hair. “No promises..” She mumbled, leaning into his touch that she wondered how she lived without for so long. Never again… She had declared to herself. Never again would she go without him, without this, without love like this.
#solavellan#solas#lavellan#solas dragon age#dragon age fanfiction#dragon age inquisition#dragon age solas#solas x female lavellan#solas x inquisitor#solas x reader#solas x lavellan#inquisitor lavellan#Lumine Lavellan#dragon age
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Quality Time (Gekko x Reader)
Please, someone save me from that Gekko brainrot !
I'm back with another shot. I love writing (and thinking) about him way too much.
Thousands apologies in advance to your eyes for my murderous grammar.
Eating the floor.
As figurative as this expression might be, Gekko now perfectly understood it in several different ways. Each way of how he tasted the floor had a different flavor : painful humbling, jaw fixation, flattened face, the training tatami that he accidentally licked during his degustation, his own saliva that he accidentally choked on, and maybe a bit of his own teeth. He even had a little taste of the wall.
“Stand up.”
Gekko uttered a small grunt, his face still kissing the floor as he momentarily wondered if you secretly were a sadist. He stood up and looked at you as you put your hands on your hips. You looked at him with your eyes slightly squinted and Gekko suspected that you wondered how you'd make him taste the floor again. His eyes met Wingman’s who was shaking his head and hiding his face.
“Ready ?”
He huffed. At least you warned him. He took position and waited.
How did he end up in this situation ? Well, Reyna once pointed out how hand-in-hand combat was his weakness during missions. She was unsurprisingly not wrong. Since he joined Valorant, he prioritized his aim and his stamina over anything else. And he had never been much of a fighter. The number of times he had been physically restrained by an Omega agent was quite big. So, to overcompensate his weak point, he asked you to train him. You were the best in the protocol in hand-in-hand combat.
And he wanted an excuse to be physically close to you anyway.
“Your shoulders...” You noticed. “You swim ?”
Gekko blinked before managing to dodge an attack from you. He couldn't help but feel a pang of pride when you nodded appreciatively. He heard Wingman applauding from the corner of the room.
“Actually yeah.” He answered as you paced around him like a predator. “It helped with my asthma growing up. Harbor has even been coaching me when I joined the protocol.”
You nodded and suddenly jumped on him. He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a surprised yelp as he felt his back bouncing harshly on the tatami mat. When he opened his eyes, you were staring at him intensely, your eyes squinting slightly in concentration. He then noticed that you were pinning him down. A new way of eating the ground.
“Your reflexes are weak.” You said plainly. “How did you survive until now ?”
Gekko did not find anything to answer that. The way you easily kept putting him down since the beginning of the hour said enough. Harbor also trained him with basic martial arts knowledge to be at least capable of defending himself. But against you, they seemed pretty useless. You read his movements as if they were boringly predictable — they probably were — and slow. Plus, the fact that your face was only a few inches away from his did not really help him to focus. His brain literally stopped.
“Hm. I’d be honored to give you some muscle stiffness.”
Was he intimidated ? Yes. Did he like it ? Very. Does that make him a masochist ? He wondered.
Your training was painfully effective. In only three hours, you solidified the basic knowledge in martial arts Harbor gave him and was able to dodge some of your attacks. It took him time, but after you explained to him how to read people's body movements in a way he could understand, he managed to predict some of your punches. Not all, but it was a beginning. But even though he could sometimes predict your movements, you were way too fast for his body to react in time. He swore that your kicks were deadly weapons.
Wingman brought Gekko a bottle of water while cheering as he was laid on his back on the tatami mat.
“You alive ?” You nudged his shoulder with your foot as you looked down at him.
“I’m still breathing.” He huffed as he sat up. “I think.”
He patted Wingman's head and took the bottle while looking up at you. You did not even seem tired.
“You have more stamina than I thought you’d have.”
“Thanks…?” He said while raising an eyebrow.
You tilted your head slightly then shrugged, your eyes still fixed on him. “You're very welcome.” You took a look at your watch then hummed. “I recommend you to take a warm shower, eat dinner, then to go to bed. You will suffer when you wake up.”
He was always stunned by the tone you used every time you spoke : a tone placed between an absolute neutrality, a subtle amusement and a vague boredom. And most of the time, he couldn't manage to guess what you were thinking about. He stood up and tried to stretch his arms but immediately winced when the pain started hitting.
“Yep.” You nodded without even looking at him. “A warm shower. Very warm.”
You walked out of the training room with a light step while he was dragging his feet behind you.
“Have a nice night.” You said to him as you walked away.
“Huh ? Ah thanks !”
Gekko always felt uncharacteristically shy around you. Which was quite surprising since you barely talked with him. He just admired you from afar since he joined the protocol, sometimes rambling about how he found you cool to Neon. You always intimidated him. He was so outgoing with people but with you, he became so shy. The other agents noticed it of course. How could they not ? The bubbly Gekko being suddenly so quiet in front of someone ? Of course they would notice. The teasing he received from his friends was colossal.
After a warm shower (a very warm) and a good dinner like you recommended, he let himself flop down on his bed with a tired huff. Today was the longest interaction you two had since he joined Valorant. A very painful interaction but still an interaction. A very physical and brutal interaction but still a lovely one. He reached out to you for help, advices and tools to defend himself, and you handed it to him without questioning. You did not judge him like he feared you would. After all, agents of Valorant were supposed to be the best defense of this world. He was one of these agents. He had a good aim, he had good stamina despite his asthma but he lacked hand-in-hand combat experience and knowledge which could be quite vital in some situations on the field. He didn't think low of himself. Gekko was just someone who wasn't afraid nor ashamed to acknowledge his weaknesses.
Outside of your sessions, everything sadly stayed the same between you two to Gekko’s despair. He couldn't help but feel disappointed. He thought that you grew close, but outside of the training room, you stayed distant. When he waved at you from afar, you turned your face away. When he raised his hand for a high five, you stared at him in confusion. When he handed you a weapon for a mission, you just nodded curtly. When he joined your table for lunch, you barely acknowledged his presence. Neon and Jett tried to reassure him by saying that you were like this with everyone. He knew that, but he had hoped to be an exception.
After a few weeks, he still happened to taste the floor as much as when you started to train him. Not because he was a bad learner, but because everytime he adapted to a fighting style, you switched into another. Everytime he walked out of a session with you, he felt he improved himself until the next session. It was impressive how many ways you had to beat his ass. Or to strangle him.
“I yield !” He choked out as your legs stifled him. He patted the floor to indicate he was giving up. “Air ! Air !”
You released him from your legs and let him breathe and sat up with your legs crossed, staring at him.
“You dead ?”
He coughed a little and shook his head. “Nope ! Pretty much alive !”
Wingman rushed towards him with a bottle of water as he kept coughing. He took a few sip of water then looked up at you to notice you staring at him without flinching. He cleared his throat to hide his blush under your gaze (even though he knew it was useless) and turned fully towards you.
“Why did you accept to help me ?” He asked.
“Hm ?” You tilted your head slightly.
“I mean…” Gekko nervously rubbed his neck and shot a glance at Wingman who quietly nodded to encourage him. “...we never really interacted with each other outside of missions before.”
You tilted your head to the other side. “And…?”
Your attitude reminded him a little bit of a cat : aloof but attentive.
“And despite that, you accepted right away.”
You stayed silent for a moment, squint your eyes slightly then shook your head negatively.
“I’m sorry. I don’t manage to see why this comes as a surprise.”
He looked at you with raised eyebrows. Of course he was the only one surprised here.
“We barely talked to each other yet you accepted right away. Why ?”
“Why not ?” You ask back. “You're my colleague, you asked for help and I could provide you with that help. So I did it. Why is it that surprising ?”
Gekko blinked for a second and let out a soft chuckle. Wingman looked between you two with a curious tilt of his little head. Your response was so simple that he never envisaged it. So simple that it was almost unpredictable.
“Well thanks.” He laughed gently.
“You’re very welcome.” You shrugged.
You kept staring at him with that deep (and sometimes unnerving) gaze of yours. After some time, he realized that your eyes weren't dreamy. They were intensely focused and he could see the intricate mechanisms constituting your thoughts without being able to decipher it.
“Do I have something on my face ?” He asked with a nervous chuckle.
“Freckles.” You responded simply. “And a smile completed by dimples most of the time. Why ?”
Wingman let out a few high-pitched garbled sounds that sounded like laughter. Gekko’s finger played with the bottle.
“Nothing. I just noticed that you sometimes stare at me a lot.”
“Oh.” You nodded slowly. “Sorry. I tend to stare a lot at things that fascinate me.”
If he was already slightly blushing (maybe because of the previous efforts), he was now burning red. His eyes were wide open. Wingman put his little hands over the space where his mouth would be, looking even more flabbergasted than his friend.
“Wait…what ?”
“You seem surprised again.”
He swallowed hard and took a deep breath, cleared his throat (nervously choked on his own saliva) then looked fully at you.
“Do you realize what you just said ?”
“Words ?”
Of course. He started to understand how you worked. When most people thought A, you thought Z. Still, your trail of thought stayed unpredictable.
He was about to say something when his phone suddenly buzzed. Wingman handed it to him and he quickly read the message he received.
“Shit.” He muttered. “I’ve been called for a mission.”
When he read the callsigns of his teammates, he noticed that yours wasn’t there. He sighed. It seemed like your moment together was shortened for the day. A pity, really. He liked these moments.
You nodded slowly, stood up then stretched your arms. “Come back safe.”
‘Come back safe’ ?
Gekko stood up too and walked towards the exit door, Wingman following him. “I will. See you later.”
You said nothing back. You just stared until he fully exited the room.
Your words kept looping in his head during the briefing.
The mission was the usual : eliminating Omega agents, defusing the spike then going back to base. It wasn't his first mission at Icebox, but being the Californian guy that he was, it wasn't his favorite place. The cold wind was whipping his face while the snow was burning his feet. He definitely should have chosen another pair of shoes and thicker socks. The mission was going smoothly: Jett and Phoenix were competing, Reyna was creepily laughing in the comm and Brimstone was complaining about the pain in his knees.
He sent Thrash to Jett and Phoenix because they fell in an ambush while he kept running where the spike had been spotted.
“Yo, I see the spike !” He said in the comm.
He then sent Dizzy to be sure no one was around before sending Wingman to the spike.
“My buddy is diffusing.”
Suddenly, Gekko felt the hair in his neck rising and his instinct urged him to bend down and to take a few steps aside, which he did.
“Damn.” He muttered under his breath.
His eyes immediately fell on Omega Yoru who just came out of a rift with a knife in his hand. Gekko just dodged his attack. He already had an history with this agent in particular. It wasn’t the first time that they ended up in a duel-like situation. Everytime, Yoru managed to manhandle him until Wingman stun him.
“Gekko ?” He heard Reyna in the comm. “What is happening? Where are you ?”
He took a deep breath and thought quickly. You taught him how to analyze a situation quickly and took advantage of it.
“I’m site B.” He answered.
First step : not panicking. Panic not only leads people to make rushed actions, but it also quashes your thinking capacity. In a moment of panic, your reptilian brain is the one mostly working with your adrenaline.
‘Panic and fear are not to be confused.’ You oftenly reminded him. ‘In a dangerous situation, panic could easily lead you towards a certain death while fear keeps your senses constantly alert. It makes you more aware of your surroundings. It makes you think thoroughly at different solutions in order to survive.’
You did not only make him eat the floor. You also sometimes planned some meditation sessions. Gekko loved these. It made him feel light.
Gekko calmly watched Omega Yoru walking towards him. His step was confident. He played with a butterfly knife, visibly trying to intimidate him. Gekko almost rolled his eyes.
Second step : analyzing the situation, then your options. A thing that you insisted on : weapons never only had one way of utilization.
Right now, Wingman was diffusing the spike, Omega Yoru was walking in his direction and Thrash was too far. Dizzy could only blind him for a few seconds but then what ? His weapon was empty and he would lose deadly seconds reloading it. Yoru was walking calmly but a certain tension in his step indicated that he would soon pounce. He too had not a lot of options. His teammates were falling, the spike was being diffused and more enemies would soon arrive.
Gekko mentally counted until three then Yoru attacked him with the knife like he had planned. Gekko quickly countered the attack with the barrel of his gun and swiftly kicked his joint ball, making his opponent momentarily fall on his knee with a huff of pain. Yoru seemed surprised for an instant before he stood up again. This time, he was a bit more alert.
They kept fighting for seconds that felt like hours. Gekko was glad his stamina didn't fail him. He clearly had the upper hand while Yoru’s movements became slower and his breath more erratic. He almost found this easy. Compared to yours, Yoru’s attacks were slow and easy to predict. They had strength but lacked precision.
Finding an opening, Gekko suddenly tackled his opponent in the snow. He then proceeded to press with strength the round of his shoulder in the solar plexus of the mirror agent. You once explained to him that a violent shock in this zone would make anyone go limp.
‘One could be as muscular as possible and have an iron will, once this zone is violently attacked, they would fall to the ground and gasp for air.’
Gekko felt his opponent’s strength faltering beneath him and his rage spiking. He heard Wingman’s high-pitched victorious scream and several hurried steps in his direction.
“Gekko, move !”
Recognizing Reyna’s voice, he obeyed quickly, standing up and taking a few steps back. A single shot and Yoru was now dead. Gekko let out a long sigh as Wingman and Thrash returned to him.
“You did good, you two.” He patted his radivore friends.
He then felt a friendly but strong pat in his back.
“Nice fight, mate !” Phoenix smiled. “You could almost be a duelist.”
Jett joined them then smiled mischievously at him.
“So you were actually training during these private sessions !”
Gekko cleared his throat to hide his blush but Reyna quickly cupped his face to inspect it.
“¿Estás herido?”
He shook his head and smiled to reassure her.
“I’m fine.”
Just slightly exhausted. He trained with you before this mission, after all. His muscles were sore and he was tired of the cold. His teeth were chattering and his body started to shake a little. But he tried to look fine so as not to worry her. Reyna could be quite overprotective over him.
“You did good, Gekko.”
“Gracias mi reina.”
He enjoyed the warmth of her hands on his cheeks and let out a small sigh of delight. He still couldn't feel his feet but it was a nice beginning.
“Seems like you improved some of your skills.” The Mexican duelist smiled.
Gekko felt proud at her words, his eyes twinkling in pride. He definitely had to thank you for this.
“Well, I have the best professor. Training can sometimes be brutal but I always learn something new after a session.”
Reyna raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She was already aware —like the entirety of the protocol— of his feelings for you. At first, she was quite suspicious of you, ready to pounce if you ever had the idea of using him. But once she saw the care in your eyes, she relaxed fully.
Gekko slept during the entire flight like a log. His head leaned on Reyna’s shoulder, he snored softly, his body warming up slowly. For an instant, he dreamed about his fight with the mirror agent and couldn't help but feel some pride. He took the situation calmly like you trained him for and busied while Wingman took care of the spike. For the first time since he joined the protocol, he felt like he didn't necessarily need a gun to be useful on the field.
Once the VLR/T landed, Reyna woke him up. He jolted awake under her amused gaze and quickly got off the aircraft to join the training room. He immediately found you meditating on a yoga mat. Despite his exhaustion, there was an excited skip in his steps. He quietly closed the door behind him, took a yoga mat in the back of the room, placed it in front of yours and sat on it, his legs criss-crossed. Wingman sat down next to him.
“You did come back safe.” You said without opening your eyes.
“Yep !” Gekko grinned. “And it’s all thanks to what you taught me.”
You slowly opened your eyes to look at him with a raised eyebrow. You then looked down to Wingman who waved friendly at you, nodded at him in return and looked back at Gekko.
“Care to develop ?”
He nodded excitedly and with animated hands movements (and Wingman to illustrate his words), proceeded to recount the events of his missions. Pride flooded from his voice and sparkles from his eyes. It was maybe another simple mission, another moment in the routine of being an agent of Valorant, but he felt like he surpassed himself. He rubbed his neck sheepishly after he finished his story, a proud smile on his lips.
“The student surpasses the master.” You chuckled softly. “Seems like you won't need my training anymore.”
Gekko’s smile immediately faded away at your words. He shook his head and leaned forward to catch your hand. He didn't want these private sessions to stop. These moments were way too precious for him to let them go.
“No !” He calmed down a little, noticing how his tone raised. “I mean…I’ll probably need more training. I mean, more training from you !”
Wingman nodded with energy beside him. You blinked, surprised by his sudden outburst.
“No worries. I planned to train you to fight with a knife at our next session.” You said as you patted Wingman’s head gently. “Plus, I enjoy your company anyway.”
Gekko looked at you with wide eyes. His hands subconsciously squeezed yours. Wingman’s eyes also widened in shock.
“If you enjoy my company, why do you always avoid me outside of this room ?”
You tilted your head slightly and looked at him as if the answer was obvious. “You’re always surrounded by others. I’m not really comfortable with too many people around. Even though they're close co-workers.”
“Friends.”
You raised an eyebrow at his intervention. “What ?”
“You mean friends, right ?”
You stayed silent for a few seconds and Gekko wondered why you saw the other agents under such cold eyes.
“Maybe Iso, Deadlock.” You hummed. “And you, of course.”
Gekko’s hand squeezed yours again.
“What about the others ?”
“They’re colleagues—”
“But—”
“Gekko.” You interrupted him. “They are your friends. Not mine.”
Gekko let out a huff and caressed the back of your hand with his thumb.
“And you’re okay with that ?”
Your eyes squinted a little. “Gekko, you’re a social butterfly. Being surrounded by people gives you energy. In my case, it drains me. And while people of your kind sometimes fascinate me, yes, I’m okay with that. And I’m not sad about it.”
You gently pulled your hand off his and stood up.
“Could you try understanding that for me ?”
He clenched and unclenched his now empty hand and watched you stretching your arms.
“Isn’t it cold to call others ‘co-workers’, though ?”
You momentarily paused your movements to look down at him.
“How would you call people you work with without being emotionally close ?”
Gekko stood up and started to stretch with you. “Fair point.”
You two (three, let’s not forget Wingman) kept stretching quietly for minutes. Gekko was thinking as he looked at you closely. Neon and Jett would call him desperate, Yoru and Phoenix a simp but he did not care. He was happy with the evolution of his relationship with you. It started with staring you dreamily from afar to stretch with you while sometimes exchanging simple words.
“I’d like to thank you.” He suddenly said.
“You don’t owe me anything.” You lowered your arms and started to stretch your back. “But I’m starting to know you. You’re stubborn and you’ll do it anyway.”
Gekko grinned widely, his eyes filled with joy. “Yep. That’s me. And I’d like to ask you on a date.”
You stopped your movements and raised an eyebrow. “A date ?”
“Yeah. As a thank for all the, you know, the training. For teaching me your techniques, your knowledge and all that. Even if that was goddamn painful at first.”
“And that's not painful anymore ?”
Gekko paused for a moment then nodded, chuckling softly.
“Okay.” He huffed. “It’s still goddamn painful. But still. I’d like to thank you.”
“With a date ?”
“With a date.” He nodded. “You enjoy my company, right ?”
“Are you sure you want a date with me as a ‘thank you’ ?”
A sudden blush dusted his cheeks but his smile remained.
“Let’s say it's one of the reasons.”
Wingman was watching the interaction with an entertained eye.
“And could you do me the honor of telling me another reason ?”
You stopped stretching to stand straight. Gekko did the same, his smile still present.
“I like you.”
“Well you’re a masochist.”
The laugh that bursts out of Gekko's mouth was booming and shaking his body, loud enough to reverberate against the wall of the room and probably make anyone passing by the door jump in surprise. You watched him calmly as his laugh slowly faded. Wingman tossed a bottle of water at you and you took a few gulps and thanked him.
“Masochist with a loose screw, I see.” You hummed.
“I’ll take it.” He snorted. “So, what do you say ? Will you go on a date with me ?”
You took a few other gulps of water, your eyes still on him. He waited for what seemed like long minutes. Was he being too bold ? He liked spending time with you but he only had the training sessions. A date would be the perfect occasion to know you better.
“Why not ?” You finally said. “But don’t go thinking I’ll be softer during your training.”
Wingman jumped and chirped in joy, making Gekko chuckle again.
“I'm counting on it !” He said with cheeky grin. “I’m a masochist, remember ?”
You snorted and exited the room.
Gekko hadn’t felt this proud in a long time. First, the mission, now you accepting to go on a date with him. Even though he was certain his friends will tease him, nothing could stop the joy that filled him at the moment. His smile was wide, his pupil dilated. You noticed that, of course. The excitement he tried so hard to hide didn't go unnoticed. You were fine with it, though. You found Gekko fascinating. Predictable at some moment, but fascinating. His company was enjoyable and warm.
However, the evolution of your relationship with Gekko will be far from predictable in your eyes, but so enjoyable.
I really don't know how to write an ending that could satisfy me. It's like a curse that I have: the beginning is easy but never the end.
At the beginning, my brain goes like 'DO IT' but at the end it goes like 'Nah'.
Anecdote : I've practiced several martial arts since I was a kid. It's like a thing with my mother and each one of her children. (“As long as I am your mother, you, my child, will never be a prey.”— my mom) And as a martial artist, I can tell you that a violent shock to your solar plexus is not only painful, but it also desactivate automatically your capacity to stand on your feet. Your body just goes 'nope !'. The first time I received a hit on the solar plexus, I almost choked on my mouth guard and hurt my leg during the fall 🥲. Did it discourage me from practicing ? Nope ! But it is still a very...special memory.
Thanks again for taking the time to read until the end. I wish you a nice day/night !
#gekko x reader#valorant x reader#gekko x you#valorant imagines#gekko valorant#valorant x you#★nana is writing…
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Pierced (through the heart)

A/N: my last time writing anything of any kind that isn't academic was 2 years ago and if I say I'm not rusty that would be one major fucking lie but the brainrot is real and I just need to get it out LMAO
Pairing: Hobie Brown x afab!reader
Warning: pwp, my Hobie Brown body (dick) piercing agenda, very brief oral (giving), I’m very horny for this man and it isn’t very hard to tell
Word count: 1.3k

Hobie Brown had a penchant for putting holes in himself, quite literally, and if anything, it was perhaps one of the first things you noticed about him.
(You told him the piercings were what got you, but even he would know that it was a pathetic attempt of a cover-up on why it seemed so hard for you to peel your eyes off of him. But bless his heart, he only took your deflection with a knowing glance and a slight, smug tug at the corner of his lips.)
(Since we all knew, the piercings were just the tip of your downfall when it came to this man.)
You probably knew where each stud was placed better than you know your own face — two on both brow bones, several running up the curve of his lobes, an industrial of his left ear that he got after a drinking game at the pub which he usually left empty.
He had made sure to tell you that it was, in fact, a drinking game that he won, but decided to do it anyways for the spirit.
Hobie was anything but a lightweight, which you would have believed even without much convincing, but there was something about the way he had to let you know that simply made you want to pretend otherways just to rile him up.
There was the one at the side of his nose that appeared out of nowhere one day but suited him so well it almost seemed like he was born with it. This was where you slipped, when you pretended to notice it sometime into your conversation, as if you didn't pick it up as soon as you took your first proper look at him that day, and asked as nonchalantly as you could if it was new.
But he left you no mercy that time, because he too would be lying if this wasn't exactly what he wanted.
"Huh," he hummed, the sound rumbling from the back of his throat and sending shivers down your spine as he looked at you straight. The glimmer in his eyes was evident even under the dimmed lights of the noisy pub, the drumming of your pulse louder than the bass pounding in your ear when his lips split into a teasing grin, "someone's been keeping notes on me, hm?"
He wouldn't admit the fire that set off when you looked away shyly, confirming that it hadn't just been wishful thinking on his part that you looked at him differently than you did anyone else.
Then there was the truly distracting one, your one true vice. You melted into puddles the first time you felt his lip ring on you in the form of a sloppy, heated kiss at the alleyway after one too many shots, the explosion of one too many stolen glances and lingering touches until the tension finally broke.
His hot breath fogged your sense until all that was left was him — the mix of beer and liquor in his mouth; calloused hands from years of guitaring grabbing you at the waist and holding you flat against him when your knees got weak; the slight chap of his lips reminding you that this moment was so, so real when you were starting to wonder if you had simply dreamed this all up.
Your fingers clawed at the fabric of his sleeve, bodies curving into each other.
And there it was, that darn lip ring in the middle of all this.
He swore he could have combusted when your teeth tugged at the ring slightly as you parted, your eyes hazed over and glassy from desire.
It glistened under the lights and you nearly let out a pathetic whimper when his tongue ran across his bottom lips, pushing the ring to the side in the process.
"My place or—"
"Yes," you felt braver than you had ever been and your hand tugged at the front of his vest as you repeated, lips just hovering next to his, "yes."
Hobie Brown usually had a lot to say about most things, but even he could not spare one more second to utter another word in that instance.
You thought that he already had quite a few going on above the neck, you had no idea what you were in for until the clothes come off.
His shirt was the first to go in a messy tugging of hands, immediately revealing the several studs lined up at his collarbone, prominent and calling out for your attention. You would have spent your sweet time sucking and nibbling on him if he would let you, but neither of you was in the mood for all of that pretence after such a long wait.
Next time, you thought to yourself, lips trailing down the center of his chest as he leaned against the mattress, head throwing back when he felt your hands grabbing impatiently at his belt.
The buckle clamoured before coming undone and with it the thick, studded belt that he always had on. One thumb hooked under the elastic of his underwear, the faint happy trail lined up under his naval beckoned your eyes lower as he pushed his skin-tight trousers down.
Nothing could have prepared you for what you saw.
Two more, sitting at the crook of his pubic bone, as if the sharp line that made up the downwards V was not enough for the eyes. You gulped as your gaze drailed further south, your face heating up as you took in his half-hard erection.
There was no way this man didn't know what he was doing with all of this.
The bar nuzzling underneath the base of his shaft was just the tip, you could not help but press your thighs together when you saw the many silver studs lined up on the downside of his pulsing cock, a thick vein popping just underneath that glaring ladder of bars.
There you were, on your knees between his thighs as fabric pooled around his ankle, warmth pooling up in your mouth and traveling to your core while he stared right at you. Dark eyes hooded with lust, you wanted to whimper when his palm reached down to your head, tipping you back just so gently that you were facing him directly.
The other hand found its way to the base of his cock, fisting it in his hand. He could be so show off sometimes, lips curling when your eyes widened at the shiny silver at the crown of his tip.
You darted your tongue out when you followed the silver ball to see the bead of pre leaking from the slit.
"You gonna do something, or you're just gonna stare?"
He did not have to ask twice, and the loud groan he let out when you took him into your mouth almost made you cum without being touched right then and there, the bumps under your tongue as you started bobbing your head made you wonder just how heavenly it would be when you felt it inside you.
And as he usually did, it absolutely blew your mind.
—
Hobie Brown had and continued to have you in the centre of his palm, which you no longer cared to deny anymore. But even then, it was still completely out of hand when he just wandered in one day and tugged you to the side to a corner away from the crowd before rolling his tongue out without a warning.
The last thing you needed on this man is a tongue piercing, as if he wasn't already very good with his mouth already.
"You like?" he asked, smug and knowing.
Hobie let out a laugh when you tugged at him by the arm straight out of the door, not bothered at all when you turned around to send him a sharp glare.
#hobie brown x reader#hobie x reader#hobie brown smut#spider punk x reader#spider punk smut#atsv x reader
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Healing Hands // Nikolai Lantsov
Request: Hi Millie! S&B s2 left me with severe Nikolai brainrot 🫠 I love my pirate prince so, if it's okay, I'd love to request a Nikolai x healer!reader 💙 I am a sucker for the patching up trope so that would be amazing. Thanks in advance! ☺️ And happy belated birthday! 🎉
A/N: First time writing for Nikolai so pls be gentle! I’m still getting to grips with his character and I haven’t read King of Scars yet so I only know of the show Nikolai and the trilogy Nikolai. Anyway! Thank you so much for your request, I hope you like, lovely!
Warnings: injuries, mentions of blood, nausea, dizziness. Pining, mutual pining. Mentions of a duel, stabbing. Pain. This is fluff, I promise.
Word Count: 1.4k
Were the grounds to the palace truly that uneven, or was he losing more blood than he initially realised?
Nikolai pondered this as he took a steadying breath against the wave of nausea that washed over him when he placed his left foot on the step first rather than using his right foot to power through. A silly mistake, the prince thinks, but a mistake nonetheless when black spots dance across his vision.
He slumps against a marble column, resting his forehead against its coolness. He could tolerate pain, could stand the sight of blood and deal with the accompanying adrenaline. What Nikolai found hard to cope with, was that he let his elder brother get the best of him.
It was this thought that spurred him on. The anger at being bested by Vasilly that kept him putting one foot in front of the other even though his left leg protested with every single step.
——————
The Healing Room was rather basic in its layout. A row of six beds placed against the back wall; each bed positioned under a window for air ventilation. Across to the furthest side of the room, shackled to the wall, was an apothecary cabinet filled to the brim with plants and herbs that could aid in healing. Most Grisha didn’t have much use for traditional medicine, but the palace hired its fair share of non-grisha too.
To the left of the room, there sat a desk. It wasn’t overly large; big enough for two just about. It was at this desk that he finds you; your face buried in a book, a streaming drink to your side and a pile of unfinished paperwork sprawled across the rest of the desk. If it wasn’t for the blood dripping onto the floor, making him dizzier, Nikolai could stand there and watch you all day.
Nikolai slumps into the door; the dark wood banging against the sage green walls, alerting you to his presence.
“Your Majesty!” You gasp, rushing to your feet, knocking into your desk and spilling ink over the pages of your new book. You barely give it more than a second thought; hurrying to Nikolai’s side. “What happened?”
Nikolai remains silent as you aid him across the small room to the uncomfortable bench where you healed the more dramatic of injuries. Nikolai tries his best not to wince as he settles down onto the hard wood, feeling every bump and scratch laid into the wood. The ceiling lights only further his nausea so he focuses his gaze on you. His eyes follow your every move; bustling from draw to cupboard, pulling out anything you could need before healing his wound with your powers.
A small, pained smile adorns his lips as you draw your stool next to him. Instinctively, you brush his hair back from his forehead. Nikolai leans into your touch; relishing in your gentleness, wishing it could be the first he felt when he came to consciousness in the morning.
“What happened, Nikolai?” You question, turning your focus to the tear in his trousers. A two inch gash stretches across the front of his left thigh; blood runs freely down his leg. The flow seems to have slowed some, but he’d already lost too much for your liking.
Nikolai lazily waves a hand in the air, putting on airs and graces. “It’s nothing. A simple scratch that needs treating.”
You shoot the prince an unimpressed look. “When you want to tell me the truth, Niko, I’m ready and waiting.”
Nikolai groaned, hating the use of your childhood nickname for him. You so rarely used it now; the nickname, like his childhood, a bittersweet memory. “You’re not playing fair,” He complains, throwing an arm across his face.
You snort, shaking your head fondly at the prince. “I never claimed to play fair. I have to know what happened in case I need to treat an infection before closing the wound.”
Nikolai sighs, knowing he had been bested for a second time that day. “Vasilly…” Nikolai begins, quashing the sudden rise of anger as he thinks back to the events of barely an hour ago.
“What did your brother do?”
“It wasn’t what he did. Am I upset he stabbed me? Yes, but I let myself get distracted and lose the upper hand.”
“How?”
“He said something he knew would get a rise out of me and I took the bait.”
“You know better than that,” You chasten, running your hands through his hair again.
He sighs. “I know but I can’t change what’s happened.” Nikolai feels his anger surge once more, “He was spouting nonsense about Grisha and their talents, stating what he would do when he was king. He made a nasty comment about you, and that’s when I lost my temper.”
“I can fight my own battles, Nikolai.”
Nikolai grabs your hand, squeezing it tightly. “You weren’t there to fight this battle. Vasilly knew what he was doing, and I knew too.”
“Then why did you respond?”
“I always will when it comes to you. I won’t stand for anyone badmouthing you even if they are their heir to the kingdom.”
You pull away from his grasp. Shaking your head, ridding yourself of the thoughts rushing through them, you bring your hands up to the all too familiar position.
“Ready?”
The prince grins. “Ready.”
Your hands move in their familiar patterns; the movements so second nature to you that you do not give it a second thought as you watch the gash on Nikolai’s thigh close, leaving nothing behind but a faint, light pink scar. You fix the prince with a stern stare, “I may have healed you but I need you to take it easy for the rest of the day. No duelling your brother, no swords, no guns. Do you understand?”
Nikolai pulls himself up, swinging his legs off the bench as he salutes you with a cheerful grin on his face. The colour has returned to his cheeks and the usual mischievous gleam has returned to his eyes.
Your feel your heart begin to race at the sight, knowing that any Heartrender in a sixty mile radius could most likely hear it’s pounding. “You scared me out of my wits, Niko,” You confess, taking a seat on the wooden bench next to the prince, resting your head on his shoulder.
Nikolai rests his head on yours; taking your hand in his. “I’m sorry,” He murmurs, meaning it.
“It seems I’m always patching you up when you’re here,” You admonish before your tone turns softer. “Or when you return from your travels, you seem to have new scars.”
“My healers aren’t as adept as you, darling,” Nikolai compliments; his tone flirtatious as he brings your joined hands to his lips, pressing a quick and gentle kiss to the back of your hand.
You hide your face in his shoulder, hoping he doesn’t feel the heat from the flush of your skin. “Don’t tell me that or I’ll be stowing away on your ship next time.”
Nikolai stiffens as the idea comes to him. “That’s perfect!” He exclaims, jumping off the bench, dropping your hand in favour of cradling your face with both of his.
“What do you mean?” You wonder, confused to his reaction but not wanting him to move a single inch. His hands on your face feels like the closest you could get to knowing what the touch of a saint is.
Nikolai keeps your gaze steady. “Come away with me,” He all but begs. “I leave soon and I don’t know when I’ll be back again. Come away with me.”
Your hands cover his. Nikolai’s thumb brush your cheekbones; his eyes shine with sheer happiness as his mind races with thought after thought of what it would be like to have you on his ship, to have you so close.
“I need you to promise me something if I’m to do this,” You warn, arching an eyebrow at the blonde.
“Anything,” He responds immediately, desperately wanting you to say yes to leaving with him, to say yes to a future with him.
“You have to promise to only let me heal you,” You state, dropping a hand in favour for poking him in the ribs. “And only me.”
Nikolai laughs; the sound ringing loud and true through the healing room. As he draws you in for an embrace, he knows that that would be a promise he could certainly keep.
#nikolai lantsov x reader#nikolai x reader#prince nikolai#nikolai lantsov#shadow and bone fanfiction#nikolai Lantsov fanfiction#nikolai lantsov fluff#nikolai Lantsov imagines#fluff#shadow and bone#s&b fanfiction
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which of the biker au boys if most likely so settle any club disputes in the ring? Who’s training who, who is shadow boxing in the corner, and who is the one to watch out for if any of the other club members get them in the ring?
Also, just like general punk biker Soap? Gahhhh that gives me brainrot in the best way
Konig probably. Going by Konig’s voice lines, I think he’s characterized as a little sadistic, and the table would put that to use.
Konig is the SGT at Arms, so he’s generally used for disciplinary measures (when needed) as it is, but the ring is especially his domain. Whoever is stupid enough to go opposite him…well..that’s their fault.
Ghost is probably the one who trains everyone, keeps them sharp. I think they all can handle themselves pretty well, but I’m sure he stays on top of that for every one. Besides Konig, I think he’s the most brutal, he just has more restraint. As VP (and as just Simon) he makes it his personal mission to see that every one of his guys gets home, so he needs them to be on their toes.
Shadow boxing would probably be Gaz. I see him as the least likely to enter the ring (though he 100% has, every member has), but the most into sharpening his hand-to-hand skills. He’s probably more concerned about making sure he’s ready when somebody tests him, than blowing off steam. Though if he gets mad enough, he’s not above it.
The one to watch out for is Konig, and then I would say Ghost, but I think Price is the one most people get shocked by.
They either assume things because of his age (which isn’t old but..), or they think he’s gotten more comfortable with a gun than with his hands. He was fighting in pubs before he should’ve legally been in them, he’s not one to sleep on.
Anytime his boys get out of line, he's taking them to the ring for the equivalent of an adult spanking. Not a fun time being on his shit list.
He also enjoys it way more than he lets on, almost as much as Konig and Ghost.
—------------------------------
We love punk biker!soap here. He’s rocking the shaggy mullet mohawk in this AU. It’s a pain in the ass with the helmet, but it’s worth it, it’s going nowhere.
Let’s talk piercings: He’s got your standard industrial bar through one ear, 3 studs on the same ear, two on the other, and his nipples used to be pierced from a dare when he was a teenager.
He can be convinced to get them again ;).
He also has an adventurous…southern piercing. Moving on.
Even if you’re not into Punk music, you appreciate your boyfriend’s love for the genre. He has the most infectious joy about his interests.
His dorm wall is covered in tickets and passes that he’s acquired around several countries. Every time he lands in a new location, he befriends the underground scene.
Most of his friends outside of the club are in bands, or the general scene.
Caught an elbow to the forehead in a mosh pit when he got distracted by how pretty you are, and the fact that you were willing to brave a pit with him.
Didn’t know he was bleeding until it ran over one eye.
“Oh my god!” You gasped.
“How it goes sometimes hen! Cannae get mad, just gotta roll with it!” He pulled you to the edge of the crowd. “‘sides, I’m good long as I can see ya. Even with one eye .”
He's obsessed with you.
#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#cod x reader#cod#john price#john soap mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish#call of duty x reader#call of duty#cod mw2#soap x reader#soap mactavish#biker!141
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Hey ! How are you ??
I Hope everything fine !
I’m not sure about this, tell me if I’m wrong. I notice Derek uses a lot of nicknames for his teammates. What do you think this come from. I always thought about his mother kind of way, to nicknames his sister and him, and a lot of people she loves. So the habits continues to grow with each of her kids.
And when, Derek brings Hotch as his companion. All his family finds some kind of nickname too for Hotch, but Hotch not so much a guy who gives nicknames like that. However, he could cook something meaningful just for each one of them. Like the favourite desert or something else.
I do like the way of them showing their love differently but that works because they’re stupidly in love and somehow kind of similar. Derek being a word of affirmation type of lover and Hotch being a gift giving kind of lover.
I don’t know what are you thoughts about all of this.
Anyways I’ll stop rambling. I’ll hope your end of the year is as great as you wanted and even better ! And I wish you a really good and happy new year :) !
Hey! I am great, how about you? I'm just busy (as usual - I need to stop saying that and just accept that this is the pace of my life these days lol) but a good kind of busy.
I love this thought and totally agree with it! Derek hands out nicknames like kisses, like affection, he's so open and genuine with them. I often think maybe Hank was big on nicknames, too. Hank and Fran together probably had several for each kid, evolving over the years the way nicknames do and in turn that form of affection became important to Derek.
Hotch, on the other hand, has Hotch. Which is funny because you're right, he really isn't a nickname guy and yet he almost exclusively goes by one at work. (And also the way that Sean is vehemently against being called Hotch is telling in many ways.) But he mostly calls Jack by his name, occasionally by "buddy" but that's about it. No other forms of Jack's name or little cute things, he sticks to Jack. (And if you notice, Jack mostly just calls him dad...he maybe calls him daddy once or twice? But it's primarily dad which speaks volumes of a kid that age and the type of household he's growing up in nickname wise.)
Words are not Hotch's forte (funny to say about a lawyer) when he's showing affection, but he is a gesture person. When he and Beth break up, he takes Jack on a trip. He's very traditional, very romantic with partners, and very giving with his time (the time he isn't giving to his work, that is) so I do think he would take the time to cook or bake for someone he loved in place of having a cute nickname to show affection. I think that the fact that their love languages are different works very well, they're different but they go together. Derek is always doing things for other people, listening to other people, taking care of other people so having Hotch's way of showing affection be gestures and showing his care would be beautiful for Derek. And Hotch, a man of few words himself but who loves theatre would love for someone to adore him with words.
This might seem crazy (but I know I already look plenty nutty on here so I'm not afraid of going further)...but hear me out: Savannah is very Hotch-coded while Haley & Beth are very Derek-coded which works so beautifully. I know I just dropped that and left it all vague but it's something I've given a lot of thought to. The OTP brainrot is real.
Thank you for indulging me! I'm happy to be on the receiving end of rambles ANYTIME. Happy (almost) New Year! I hope you are well!
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I'm okay on my side ! Hope you're doing well too ☺️ But yeah, this update awating is already making my emotions blow up. Like, you see the big roller-coster, you know it's going to be some big thing. And you feel like you're already up there.
But I'm also in denial for any more emotional damage coming up. (Silver fighting against Dawn brainrot breaking my heart-) ("I'm sorry. I now know you loved me very much. But neverless, you are now my father enemy. Bloodties don't matter that much for me. Because I will always be my father's son." 😭💀). So I'm in OT3 fluffy/angsty mode where I live in a cottage with my two handsome husbands and my baby Silver. In a peaceful time. Having funny shenanigans with the Draconia in-laws. And just chilling in a cute alternative version of the past we going to have more information about in 2 days.
Everything will be fine- I hope. But I'm gathering tissues. Just in case.
- 🦋 Anon
[OT3 Masterlist]
Hello 🦋 Anonie 💞💚🌻
Glad to hear you’re doing good, I’m going well; just antsy. But yes!! Your analogy is perfect. We know something big is going to come and we know it’s going to hurt, but we are powerless to it.
All the while, time is slowly passing by as we wait our demise 😂🫡
Kind of like the people on Sage island…okay okay, I’ll stop ajsjdkdn 🤣🤣
BUT I’M SHAKING YOU 🦋 ANONIE
“I'm sorry. I now know you loved me very much. But neverless, you are now my father enemy. Bloodties don't matter that much for me. Because I will always be my father's son."
Did you have to hurt me this way?? But ahhh the brain rot 🥹💞💞 It’s amazing.
If it’s any comfort 🦋 Anonie, I have several OT3 asks in my inbox that I will answer soon hopefully. And, knowing me, the new update is going to get my brain into overdrive. So more fanfics and more OT3 most likely ☺️💞💞 (and theories and in general screaming 🤣)
Gather all the tissues because we are going to need them 🦋 Anonie, there’s a reason why they look so angry and I can imagine whatever it is, we are not ready. Though I’m sure, Ortho will pop up at the end in a cliffhanger probably.
Here’s a small comfort fic, to soothe us before troubling times:
You gasped awake, breathing heavily.
Your vision unfocused, hands trembling.
“YN?”
A hand cupped your cheek, bringing your eyes to worried crimson.
It was difficult to breathe.
A forehead leaned against yours, “Shh. Try and copy how I breathe precious.”
You tried to follow along, eventually matching Lilia’s.
As you calmed down, you were brought back to your surroundings. You felt a hand gently rubbing your back as you slumped forward into Lilia. You could see Dawn’s concerned eyes through your blurred vision.
Dawn and Lilia murmured something above you before you felt a kiss placed upon your shoulder.
From the corner of your eye, you saw Dawn leave the room.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“In a bit,” your voiced wavered.
Lilia tucked you closer into him.
You didn’t know when you dozed off, but the gentle shake from Dawn woke you.
“Drink this Love, it’ll help you sleep better.”
Warm milk and honey, the combination had you smiling.
Something the Lilia in the future loved to make for his boys. You could recall Lilia proclaiming in several of his stories about how this very drink would put the toughest and most stubborn children to sleep.
The memories of your dream came back. You closed your eyes before looking at your husbands. Their worried expressions had you spilling every detail you could remember.
By the end, you felt more tired than ever but more comforted as well.
Your husbands hugged you as they reassured you with their words.
“We’ll take Silver and Malleus from my sister’s tomorrow and have a picnic in the meadow. You’ll see first hand that your dreams are just that, dreams and nothing more.”
“You’re not allowed to cook, Lilia.”
“Hey! I can make simple sandwiches.”
“If you ever want our son back from your sister and Malleus, you’ll never utter those words in front of them.”
Their banter lulled you to sleep.
What better way to be loved then to be in the middle of two such loving souls?
Who cherished you and their family endlessly like the number of stars in the sky.
With them, you would know a True Happy Ending.
Am I implying something with the three of them home alone without Silver?? Maybe. Maybe not. Lolol ☺️💞
But also, I could have changed the whole atmosphere and turned it angsty/horrific with an added line or two but I didn’t.
Aren’t I gracious? 🤣🌺
#answered#anonie ask#🌺🦋Anon🌺#lilia vanrouge#twst knight of dawn#twst knight of dawn x reader#lilia vanrouge x reader#twst knight of dawn x reader x lilia vanrouge#the knight of dawn#knight of dawn#x reader#twst silver
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since you like Star Wars- Aunt Beru??
Seriously, you watch the first movie (a New Hope) and she talks about Anakin with this.... familiarity.
"He has too much of his father in him." She says it endearingly- she really is talking about an old friend, who she misses dearly. Owen is concerned that Luke will be like Anakin, but Beru talks about him, again, endearingly.
In the context of the first movie there's nothing iffy, right? Anakin is dead, and these are the ways Owen and Beru respond to the loss.
Then Empire Strikes Back comes along. The context shifts- Owen's response still makes sense
"That's what worries me." But Aunt Beru's is.... different now. She still cares about him after all these years----
All this to say Aunt Beru should have been Anakin's sister, as opposed to Uncle Owen being his step-brother
Can and will elaborate if prompted, the brainrot is SEVERE
ABSOLUTELY AHSKDHDJSSH IT’S SOOOOOO 😭😭😭
Beru likely formed a bond with Shmi while she was alive, so she heard all the stories about what it was like raising Anakin as a child, and then Luke came along and Beru was like “ah, yes—the raising-a-Skywalker” experience. Yes, she knows how Anakin turned out, but she also knows about the young boy Shmi loved and raised, and that’s what she sees in Luke.
Owen probably spend more of his time with his own father, and while he loved his stepmother I’m sure, he probably didn’t hear as many stories. He knew about Anakin Skywalker and he knew that once upon a time he was a young boy from Tatooine raised by his mother Shmi, but when he learns that Anakin turned to the dark side, that defines the lens through which he sees his stepbrother forever. And when Luke begins to show a bright and cheerful but unsatisfied personality very similar to Anakin’s, it isn’t endearing to him, it’s frightening.
Agdjdhjssjs Owen and Beru Lars and their relationships with the Skywalkers >>>>>>
Also yes please elaborate if you have more thoughts 👀
#star wars#owen lars#beru lars#anakin skywalker#luke skywalker#star wars prequels#star wars original trilogy
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I've never played DA games before but ngl I'm getting real interested in that bald elf boy, but not sure if I want to go and buy a new game when I'm also still deep in BG3 brainrot.
Please convince me to get/not to get DA:I 🫢
My dear anon I cannot sway you in one direction or the other except to say that I may have already converted several of my BG3 Brainrot Friends into Dragon Age Brainrot Friends
Oops? 😈
I adore Dragon Age. It was my creative inspiration and first real fandom boom back in 2014 and I love seeing that vibe come back to life in BG3. So many BG3 people are former (and returning) DA fans, and I feel that if you’ve made BG3 friends who also like DA then you’ve already cultivated a bubble that is going to support you whether you stick with BG3 or switch to DA!
But here’s the real caveat: you can love and enjoy and consume and create both things. Never let anyone tell you that you’ve abandoned one fandom for another. You are capable of loving many things!
I’ll still write for BG3 when I have time to write again. I’m posting fic for DAO mostly because it’s lived in my head for ten years and it’s about time I get it out of my skull. And most of it is kind of already written. I fully expect I’ll hope back and forth between fandoms for a while!
If that sound appealing to you, I say try out DAI. Solas (the bald elf) is one of my all time favorite characters because he’s just so dang FASCINATING. I love him, I hate him, I adore his romance, I want to strangle him, I want to crack open his skull and see how he ticks. I just….*grabby hands*
But I also know he’s not everyone’s cup of tea. I imagine you must have seen plenty of spoilers about him already, which is a shame—experiencing the arc of getting to know him, and then seeing how everything ends or changes or shifts without knowing any of it beforehand? It’s truly a special experience.
Anyway all that to say: if it interests you, go for it! DAI has plenty to offer and I can say I know several people who were a little reluctant at first because they loved BG3 so much, but they’ve fallen in love with DAI. As one of my friends put it, they haven’t abandoned their love of BG3, they’ve just expansed their interests to include DA too.
So idk maybe that helps <3
Oh and don’t be afraid to go back and play the other games too if you like DAI. There truly is nothing better than tweaking the world of DAI to match the decisions you’ve made in DAO and DA2 (in my humble opinion)
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Recording gone...right?
word count: ~1.2k
warnings: none
genre: flustering Bae, this is a new genre at this point
a/n: Any brainrot you have? Send them all. I need them, they are giving me that sweet, sweet serotonin. (This goes to everyone, because while I have my own ideas for stories, you guys always seem to think of something completely different and I love it.)
tag: @thightswideforhanin
Please let me know if I left a warning or anything out, I will add it in! Reblogs, likes and feedback are greatly appreciated!
!I don't condone anyone stealing my work and posting it anywhere without my permission, or feeding it to AI!
!This is just fiction, my interpretation of Stray Kids. By no means is this how they are and how they behave in real life!
‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹
‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹
Their fans didn’t even know their beloved idols would have another album coming out soon, yet the members were already working hard on it. They were all very excited, even more than usual -and that was hard to achieve-, because they would be working with a famous japanese singer this time, LiSA. She was known for several things, some anime openings being on that extensive list and you could bet that some of the boys knew at least one or two of those songs by heart. They were too big of a weeb to not.
Amongst them the worst ones were Jisung and Bae, the two socially awkward anime fans. Just from the mere thought of meeting her had their palms turning clammy and their hearts speed up, but only after leaping into their throats. Thankfully or not, they wouldn’t be meeting with the famous singer for a while, needing to work on the songs on their own first.
“Can you believe it, Hyung? Not only did Chan hyung laugh at me when I accidentally messed something up while recording, but he shouted into the mic!”
It was Jisung complaining after his day of recording, his tired form draped over Bae’s. It wasn’t by the latter’s choice, since the young quokka attacked him and started acting like his personal blanket the moment their eyes met. Bae knew he had no choice but to accept his fate, the man too stubborn to leave him be.
“Aaaaaah, Baeeeee hyuuung, it was so horrible, I think I got permanent hearing damage.” - at this, Bae just looked at Jisung with a raised eyebrow.
“I know, I know, we’re loud, you say it all the time, but I’m serious this time! Gimme a kiss! I need someone to kiss it better!” - the younger asked shamelessly, doe eyes glistening as he was craning his head to look at Bae.
Now, Bae really loved his members, he truly did, and he would never hurt them purposefully, but the thought of just shoving Jisung down onto the floor from top of him did cross his head for a second. Maybe even two. But instead he just took a deep breath, slowly exhaling as he just got up from the couch -with the clingy squirrel in his hold, who just squeaked at this lightly- and pushed Jisung into Minho’s arms, who just arrived because he was visiting them for something.
He didn’t even wait and explain his actions -something that Minho and Jisung were both asking and whining for-, just straight up walked away and left to his room. Right until Chan got a hold of him, the kangaroo’s head peeking out through the small gap he opened his door to.
“Bae, can you please come in for a sec? I wanna discuss something about tomorrow’s recording.”
He didn’t need to be asked twice, his feet immediately turning and pivoting into Chan’s room, closing the door behind himself. He sat next to his hyung, who had his famous laptop in his lap, the screen illuminating both their faces in the darkness.
“I know you have excellent english, but I wanted to go over some lines before we record them tomorrow. Especially because some of them might be a bit too high for you at first.” - Chan explained, no ill intent in his voice.
Bae nodded as he listened to his leader talk, singing sometimes in a quiet voice, carving the melody and the words into his flesh. He knew Chan only wanted the best for him, so he wanted to do his best in return. They spent their time like that, not even noticing it was past midnight already, several hours passing by as they started discussing things in great detail. They went over the already recorded parts, thinking about how to tweak them slightly, how other parts needed to be recorded in the future.
Sometimes the aussie forgot that Bae wasn’t part of 3RACHA, since the younger always let him gush about music production, understanding and curiosity glistening in Bae’s eyes.
Soon they wrapped the impromptu meeting up, wishing the other goodnight, before inevitably meeting up the next day in the recording studio.
Bae arrived there early, wanting to warm up his voice in time before the recording. He greeted all the staff members, doing a double take when he saw not only Chan, but every member of 3RACHA in the chairs. Those sneaky bastards just grinned at him and waved, causing Bae to huff and start regretting his life choices. Because he knew there would be teasing to be had, even though they were also recording for STAY. Although that never stopped them before, so why would it now?
After successfully warming up his voice and tweaking with the settings a bit, Bae was ready and signalled for the others.
Chan only commented a few times, needing a bit of correction here and there: sometimes for the rhythm, sometimes for the feel of a few lines. They were usually solved in the next take, making everything go smoothly.
Right until the boys started playing around.
You see, Bae had this habit of doing tiny dance moves while singing, the choreography singed into his body for the song already. And every single time, Chan and/or the others would comment on it, purposefully pressing the button so Bae would hear it. Giggles and comments about how cute he was would fill his ears, dusting his cheeks pink, causing the others to react stronger. It was a hellish cycle, one that continued usually only until Bae would take off the headphones and turn away from them, staring up at the ceiling in silence. This way the others and himself would slowly calm down, otherwise he would have to record his lines while Changbin was shouting pickup lines at him.
He really wanted to get out of there.
“Okay, okay, that was good. Now you only need to sing the part everyone has, and you’re done. FIghting!” - Chan announced, urging Bae to look the lines over on the paper and nod.
It only took a single take, the others on the opposite side of the glass loudly voicing their opinions, as always.
“Wooow, that was perfect, Bae! You got the emotion down to a t.” - Chan said, his voice firm over the headphones.
“Of course, Hyung’s my boyfriend, he is perfect!” - Changbin added in, proudly standing there with a silly little smile on his face.
“What?! No, you greedy pig. You want Hyunjin and him both? He’s mine!” - Jisung whined back, causing Bae to huff and go over to calm them after waving tinily at the recording camera, seeing the staff members fighting a headache already.
It was always like that with Changbin, Bae getting a handful of headaches just from being in the studio with him, helping with the songs. The little dwaekki was always loud and voiced his opinions strongly, and Bae could only silently grimace as he went to go buy some apology drinks for the equally tired and suffering staff members. And for himself. Gods, did he not like coffee and its taste, but he downed a latte or two sometimes, just to get through those recording sessions.
“What’ll make you two stop?” - he tiredly asked, a sigh leaving his form once again.
“A kiss.” - they answered in perfect sync.
“Forget I asked. Good luck, Hyung.”
“What, wait, and where’s mine?”
But Bae was already out the door, done with the boys’ shenanigans for the day.
#Bae loves them and isn't really annoyed#he just got too flustered to stay there#this is as gay as it gets boys and girls#because your author cannot take any more#i am as shy as one can get for reasons lmao#anyway#enjoy!#god i fucking love social path#listening to it is not enough anymore#i need to inject it directly into my veins#stray kids#skz#stray kids oc#skz oc#stray kids 9th member#skz 9th member#glacial prince#bang chan#seo changbin#han jisung#request#stray kids fanfiction#skz fanfiction#stray kids fanfic#skz fanfic
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little things in the wonka score/soundtrack that get me every time: a post made by a music major with severe brainrot (seriously it’s getting bad)
• even though i’m not sure how to feel abt what they did orchestrally to pure imagination when it was sung in full, i loved the way it was interwoven until then-the opening credits, the clock tower chiming its intro, etc
• when the intro to hatful of dreams ends and the instrumental HITS. that was the moment i was sitting in the theater like “…oh i’m going to be so charmed by this movie huh”
• something abt the way timmy sings “i’ve put everything i’ve got into my choc’late”. see above bullet point
• welcome to scrubbit’s has no right to be that much of a banger
• the low brass in scrub scrub HELLOOOOO?!?!? the chromatic slides. the muted trumpets. abacus’ bass moments (go off king). the song is literally about laundry and yet IT GOES SO HARD
• walk into the club on a friday night like FIRST YOU PICK UP THE APPAREL AND YOU
• the instrumental of ynhclt that plays while everyone’s flying is so cheesy and so golden-age-of-hollywood-children’s-musical and i cannot help but smile
• the cuh-lassic “one instrument at a time” opening of sweet tooth
• mathew baynton’s voice. that’s it that’s the bullet point.
• #GiveTheCartelMoreTight3PartHarmonies2k24
• well we’ve got lots and lots and lots and loTS AND LOTS AND LOWHY AM I SINGINGGGGGGG
• somethin about how the “noodle noodle” countermelody is a sort of arpeggiated outline of each chord, like a vocal warmup, like he’s letting her take the melody bc he knows she will in time. i’m gonna sob they’re literally family
• the orchestration of for a moment, esp while they’re dancing on the rooftop, just SOARS. idk if anyone here has seen mr magorium’s wonder emporium but that movie shaped my childhood, it’s probably my favorite film score ever, and this instrumental bit is SOOOO reminiscent of it
• clock tower. a fifty-second masterpiece
• CHOCOPOCALYPSE. (for those of us who were on the theatre kid side of the internet in 2018, i think chocopocalypse should be the new calculust. hear me out)
• mat’s voice gets a second bullet point bc what the hell man. literally the sonic embodiment of dark mint chocolate. h e l p m e
• …#fickelgruberisathinmint2k24
• noodle’s portion of ynhclt, while she’s teaching willy to read, has a few instrumental nods to mozart’s famous sonata in c, a typical piece for piano beginners-kids-to learn. in the 1971 film mrs teavee incorrectly identifies mozart as rachmaninoff. this MOVIE
• i wish there could have been more, and more involved/complex, ensemble vocal moments
• charlotte ritchie <3 (okay i’m biased sue me)
• the new orchestration for the oompa loompa song is straight fire
• the LEITMOTIFS the fucking LEITMOTIFS!!!!!!!! the opening fanfare that became the basis of hatful of dreams popping up here and there. the melody to a world of your own playing whenever he thinks of his mom. every time we think willy’s safe from the cartel, ope there’s that descending major sixth again.
• (now that i think about it. sweet tooth is in g major of all keys, rather atypical of a villain song. most of the intervals are major too. it’s the trembling strings that give it that “evil” sound. and it fits so well-like, “we’re not completely immoral! time for a fun little tango! there’s colorful lights! killthisguyplsOH LOOK CONFETTI!” they’re so sinister i love it)
• the way that the intro to a world of your own echoes the intro to pure imagination
• THE ORCHESTRATION DURING “chocolate bushes, chocolate trees” etc AND THE WAY IT BUILDS OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOD. MY HEART JUST BURSTS. EVERY TIME. I AM NOT IMMUNE TO CHEESY MUSICALS.
• the!! chromatic!! basslines!! in!! that!! song!!!!!!!!
• the fact that the bridge comes before the second verse-name any other songs where that happens i dare you. just another example of willy changing the narrative in every way
• the fact that sorry noodle is AN ENTIRE *OTHER* COUNTERMELODY that then falls back into the for a moment melody at the end what the FUUUUUUUUUUUCK
• the monks chanting “giraffe. a massive giraffe”. so fucking funny
• stripping down pure imagination to its essence while willy sings it to noodle was a thousand percent the right decision. and the lyric changes for the situation are sooooooo clever
• as someone who grew up with the 71 movie and has been utterly enamored with its music her whole life, i’m not the world’s hugest fan of this version’s pure imagination orchestration; i get they felt they had to do something different, it just feels slightly too modern/disneyesque, but it had the vibe that they intended for the end of the movie
• anyway god i love this score
#wonka 2023#wonka movie#wonka#neil hannon#joby talbot#timothée chalamet#calah lane#mathew baynton#charlotte ritchie
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An Incomplete List: Things I need to be in the RWRB movie
(Including things we already know will be in it because god I’m so excited)
Basically this will just be me listing all my favorite parts of the book so I apologize in advance for how long this will be I’m brainrotting HARD rn)
1. The callback between Henry asking June (maybe Nora tho now) to waltz and then later telling Alex he hates waltzing at the V&A idk why but this is important to me
2. PLEASE a flashback of baby Alex seeing the picture of baby Henry in the J14 magazine I WOULD LOVE TO SEE THAT
3. Henry’s (and Alex’s) insomnia (because I am also an insomniac and it’s an important part of their characters I feel)
4. ALEX’S GLASSES PLEEEEEASE
5. Star Wars including the Leia and Han references/mural and Henry’s favorite movie being Return of the Jedi because THATS MINE TOO❤️❤️ and also “bit short for a stormtrooper”
6. CORNBREAD AND STUFFING CORNBREAD KNOWS MY SINS HENRY buy a summer home in Majorca with the turkey Mr Wobbles and David picture from Henry and their cute little “we’ve obviously got crushes but we’re ignoring it” phone goodbye
7. EVERYTHING ABOUT NEW YEARS BUT ESPECIALLY ALEX TRYING TO GET HENRY TO DANCE AND HENRY JUST GAY PANICKING
8. Nora’s extrapolated data about Alex’s obvious crush lmao
9. RED ROOOOOOOOOM
10. “Fucking eyelashes” and also “good to know. I am very, very gay.”
11. The stupid titles they use in their emails like His Royal Horniness and Alex First Son of Off-Brand England
12. BABY and LOVE and SWEETHEART I normally hate pet names (minus love I adore that one always) but I am a SUCKER for Firstprince pet names specifically
13. I’d love to see a flashback to young Henry coming out to Bea even for just a second
14. I NEEDNEEDNEED a shot like this in the movie

(Art by vkellyeart) but yes give me a shot like this where they’re on opposite ends of the world “two parentheses enclosing 3700 miles”
15. “Say good morning to your strumpet, Henry.”
16. So I know we won’t get the Hoe Dameron and Prince Buttercup kimonos anymore (sadness) but LET NICHOLAS GALITZINE BELT HIS HEART OUT TO QUEEN I BEG
17. Since we don’t get Cash wearing one SLAP A BRIGHT PINK FEATHER BOA ON AMY PLZ
18. Bea’s lime green drop-waist Wimbledon dress with gold honeybee Gucci sunglasses fight me Ellie Bamber would rock that look
19. So I know we know they don’t dance to Your Song in the V&A but I hope Henry still plays it on the piano or at least it plays somewhere in the movie cuz i love that song also JUST HENRY PLAYING PIANO IN GENERAL PLZ AND LET ALEX LOOK AT HIM WITH SEVERE HEART EYES and then Henry falling asleep on Alex and Alex just laying awake like Well Shit
20. “Most things are awful most of the time, but you’re good.”
21. Alex’s vocabulary apparently only being expletives when Zahra busts in on him and Henry lmao and “yes we can unpack the ironic symbolism later GO” and also “I thought you were getting into international relations or something” “I mean technically—“ “if you finish that sentence I’m gonna spend tonight in jail” 😂😂
22. THE POWERPOINTS HAHAHAH and “You need to figure out if you feel forever about him”
23. “Should I tell you that when we’re apart, you body comes back to me in dreams?” Speech and also the story about the prince with his heart outside his body that met the most dashingly gorgeous peasant boy who said absolutley ghastly things to him that made him feel alive for the first time in years
24. “Sometimes you just jump and hope it’s not a cliff” and “But the thing is, jumping off cliffs is kinda my thing. That’s the choice. I love him, with all that, because of all that. On purpose. I love him on purpose.”
25. Dear Thisbe, I wish there weren’t a wall. Love, Pyramus
26. Obtuse fucking asshole and “I fucking love you, okay?” And “when have I ever, since the first instant I touched you, pretended to be anything less than in love with you?” And “I want you— then fucking have me— but I don’t want this” and ok basically you get it their whole goddamn rain-drenched love confession scene
27. The morning after, when Henry says that all the royal shit of “fine” isn’t good enough for him and tells Alex he wants him to help him try to be happy and the chance of a life? That’s one of my favorite scenes if not my absolute favorite and I don’t even know what I need out of it but I know I need it to be PERFECT, including Henry sayings he’s been in love with Alex since they met❤️❤️
28. Prince Consort Road picture plzzzz and everything that happens in the V&A but ESPECIALLY them dancing and “taking a picture of a national gay landmark and a statue”
29. “I want you to know, I’m sure. A thousand percent.” And “I completely fucking love you”
30. AN INCOMPLETE LIST. IF WE DONT GET ALEX NARRATING THE INCOMPLETE LIST WITH A HENRY MONTAGE IN THE BACKGROUND, WHAT WAS THE POINT OF THE MOVIE????
31. “You and me and history, remember? Because you’re it, okay? I’m never gonna love anybody in the world like I love you.”
32. I want Ellen’s reaction to Alex being outed, and Zahra’s as well, with both of them being so supportive. But especially “do you feel forever about him?” “Yeah, I do.”
33. “I won’t lie. Not about this. Not about you.”
34. The crowd outside the palace and the crowds around the world supporting Henry and Alex oh my god i just know imma cry there
35. “You are the absolute worst idea I’ve ever had” Alex’s speech “America: he is my choice.”
36. The suitor pictures
37. Henry’s yellow rose of Texas tie
38. Alex taking Henry to his childhood home is a very small wish but I’d still love to see that
39. Finally, I REALLY hope the movie gives us some kind of epilouge like I don’t even care what kind I just want a future thing where we see them happy in the future at a wedding or literally just sitting together I don’t even care I just want one❤️❤️
I am SO sorry this turned out a lot longer than I expected but goddamn I love this book and I’m so excited for the movie my brain needed something to do lmao
#rwrb#red white and royal blue movie#firstprince#alex claremont diaz#henry fox mountchristen windsor#taylor zakhar perez#nicholas galitzine#casey mcquiston#red white and royal blue book#red white and royal blue
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I’ve been having a really tough time parsing through my feelings about this because they keep changing. It’s kind of silly, too, when you put it under a microscope. All love is, I guess. That’s what this is. And I’ve had a lifelong track record of loving things too hard. Not to say that it isn’t always worth it, though it’s hard to feel that way in the immediate aftermath of things coming to an end before you’re ready.
(Putting the rest of this under the cut because it is entirely too long and personal and self-indulgent. Yes, this is about the OFMD cancellation.)
I’m not a superstitious person, with the exception of talking about things I’m excited about. If I’m waiting for an offer letter from a new job, or to hear from someone, something to happen, I have the constant feeling that if I open my mouth and express my excitement out loud, put my intentions out into the world with my own breath and teeth, push it out with my tongue, it means the thing won’t happen. My words will shift the air and it will bite back. There is shaky, empirical evidence for this. I know that, logically. In my heart, though, the fear of vulnerability lives on. Of being known and seen and disappointed.
The last several years, I got better at guarding my heart. I built strong walls. I’ve kept myself from touching things I know will draw me in too deeply, avoided looking at things I knew would break me in half. Preemptive measures to avoid potential heartbreak. (A large reason for this, I’m sure now, was the long-term (bad) relationship I was in until 7 months ago, which demanded all of my attention and emotions to maintain to the point that anything more pressing to my heart would cause the whole house of cards to collapse around me.) I kept my distance from OFMD until I was sure it wasn’t queerbaiting, after season 1 finished airing. And even as I watched it and immediately after, I kept my mouth shut about wanting a season 2. I wasn’t back on tumblr at the time (another instance of me keeping myself from touching things that will pull me in with crushing force). I only had one real life friend to talk to about the show, and even then, I held back. Only let the words whisper out of the corner of my mouth, eyes shifting. I didn’t want to let myself slip. I didn’t want to show my heart for fear of it getting ripped out. I kept the walls up.
When the season 2 trailer dropped, I felt it creeping in, despite my best efforts. I craved it. With an affable hand, it was tapping on the gate to my heart that had been shut since I left the depths of fandoms in 2013. My bad relationship had ended just a few months prior to this. I was free-falling. Vulnerable.
Season 2 reached for my heart. Tentatively, I opened the gate. I invited it in. I dove towards it. I rejoined tumblr. The brainrot set in not shortly after, a familiar friend. The truth is, it could have been anything. It could have been Good Omens, had I opened the gate a few months earlier. It could have been fucking Doctor Who again. But it wasn’t. It was the gay pirates, the middle-aged men, the nonbinary actor playing a nonbinary character, the people of color, the music, the writing, the story, the actors.
Stede and Ed were experiencing identity crises and so was I. One of the reasons my ex cited for dumping me was that he wasn’t attracted to me anymore after the years of me slowly discovering I was queer and nonbinary while we were together. After I had top surgery, he didn’t love me anymore. He broke up with me during pride month. My identity was coming into focus gradually as the foothold slipped out from under me. Simultaneously, on my TV screen, I see Stede realize he’s in love with Ed. I see Ed lose his grip when his foothold slips out from under him, too; his shaky, fresh identity and bravery free-falling around him under the words “I should have let the English kill you,” spat at him for being soft and vulnerable. I see him lose himself in suicidal patterns, familiar. I feel unlovable, and I hear Ed echo my thoughts. I see him come back from the ledge, healing slowly. I see budding happiness. I see love and self-acceptance. I see the crew experiencing so much queer joy it makes my heart ache. I see the fandom experiencing queer joy around me, too. I experience unbridled queer joy for the first time in my life.
I start reading fanfiction again (a door I kept firmly shut and locked for a decade). I want more, to chase the high of queer joy as I read Ed and Stede finding each other and falling in love again and again, in a million different universes. I deepen my connections. I’m finding my foothold again. I form tentative friendships with other people in the fandom. We excitedly post about the season 3 renewal announcement we’re certain is coming. We laugh. We count down the hours together every day for the first week and a half of 2024. A shared delusion, maybe, but all signs were pointing north, and we were traveling there together. I stand up a little straighter. I feel less afraid of being vulnerable. I feel a little bit more lovable.
I let myself hope. I get excited, confident. I talk about the show and the impending renewal announcement with my own mouth and teeth and breath to anyone who will listen. I push the words out with my tongue as the walls around my heart are reduced to rubble against my ribcage. My heart beats defiantly for the whole world to hear.
We know what happens next. I’m free-falling again. It’s silly, right? I wrote all this out to help myself process my emotions, why the cancellation hit me like a wrecking ball, and I feel sillier for it. I feel silly for my heart being so large, for feeling things too much. I feel silly for letting my guard down and letting myself get hurt. For loving things too hard with no plan of how to let go. After a lifetime of this, I should know better.
This show doesn’t define who I am; I already had a pretty firm grasp on that before I ever hit play on the pilot. It’s not life or death. But it helped me find my tender heart again, the me from 10 years ago, the fearless one. It made me fearless again. It made me love again. And at the end of the day, season 3 or no, that means the most to me, and I am endlessly thankful for this heartbreak.
If we’ve never talked before, hi, I’m Danny. Thanks for reading this. I love y’all, crazy little gay people in my phone. I will keep talking about OFMD until the day I die. Hold my hand, let’s be fearless together.
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