#this is probably not all thats in my head about it but again

[grimmweepers]

ok shit after i sent this to my drafts i didn't realise it cut off some of my tags bc it didn't tell me that i had reached my tag limit LMAO. pls read under the cut after the tags <3

OH AND THE SMUT SCENE WAS FANTASTICCCCCCCC KJSUTGIWITGEWUGYUGWUYGWUGU BUT I WILL FOREVER WAIL AND THROW MYSELF ON WALLS AT THE MENTION OF HIS GRANDMOTHER AND PARENTS.

this fic pulled on my heartstrings. but it also made my heart race and jump. i laughed but some parts also left me clutching my chest. i cried but i also smiled. this just tells me that reading your work is always an experience <3 AND WHAT A WONDERFUL GIFT YOU HAVE <3 THANK U FOR SHARING IT WITH US

like a lotus in spring, you are mine to bloom — ft. alhaitham

synopsis: at twenty one, you’re just a girl he meets as he trains for the role of scribe. at twenty four, you’ve become everything he loves in this world. after three years of knowing you and nearly two and a half decades of life, alhaitham finally realizes why his father left letters for his mother instead of just saying the words outloud

❤︎ word count: 7.7k words — we find ourselves here in the same old situation again, i see LOL pls give it a chance though!! plssss

❤︎ before you read: female reader ; 18+ content — not suitable for minors ; not proof read ; strangers to friends to lovers ; mutual pining but not at the same time for a bit (he falls first <3) ; jealous alhaitham ; hinted drunk sex ; getting together + love confessions ; alhaitham character story spoilers + references to his grandmother and parents ; semi-clothed unprotected sex ; no prep ; some nipple play ; creampie ; the cringiest love letter at the end LOL

❤︎ comments: guys every time i write alhaitham it’s so corny and cheesy but . he is my fav genshin guy of all time i deserve to be allowed this okay

TWENTY ONE. 

You’re still a student when you first meet Alhaitham. (Not a student for much longer, but a student all the same. With a little luck on your side and good graces from your darshan’s sage on your thesis, you’re expected to graduate in just a few short months.)

You don’t have the best first meet. In fact, your impression of Alhaitham starts off entirely on the wrong foot. 

He’s newly graduated, just freshly rewarded a degree for his (impressive) efforts, and is now well on his way to training for the role of scribe—you heard he was offered far more prestigious roles, but for some reason, a genius like him settled for a role like that. You try not to judge. People have their passions, after all, and if that’s what he wants to do, well…who are you to make comments? (But amongst a school that only houses the brilliant, Alhaitham is, very undoubtedly, a standout. It’s hard to stand out in a school filled with only the best minds, but he manages to do so with ease. Sometimes, you’re almost jealous. You can’t help but wonder why he doesn’t aim a little higher than he does.)

He trains in the house of Daena. His first order of training is to fact-check ordinance drafts using books so he can better get the hang of drafting them himself in the future. You’re also in the House of Daena to find the last book for your thesis—after weeks of begging, you’re finally granted access to the restricted section to find it. 

And you do. Except your palm meets warm skin instead of the cold leather cover of a book. You pause, glancing up as sharp, teal eyes meet your gaze, staring at you expectantly as if you should be the one letting go. But you need this book. It’s the final research element to finish your thesis, and you’d like to be done with it. End of story. No matter how devastatingly handsome the man (because he is handsome, you’ll admit at least that much), you will not be handing over the last, final key to your academic freedom.

“Um, excuse me,” you say politely, “I was kind of reaching for that.”

“As was I,” he says, staring at you with a bored, almost uncaring expression. Your eyes narrow. “Now, if you’d please kindly take your hand off of mine.”

“I believe it should be you taking your hand off of mine,” you correct, huffing as you add stubbornly, “I reached for it first.”

He blinks at you, bland and a little irritated, as he points out, “Your hand is on top of mine, which means I reached the book first.”

Well.

Maybe if you were feeling particularly patient, you’d be inclined to admit that, yes, he does have a point. But stubbornness, combined with pure exhaustion, has you at your wit's end, and if you have to play the role of a difficult student, then so be it. You’re pretty sure you need it more, and you’re probably a much speedier reader anyway. You’ll have it done and returned in no time.

This guy, on the other hand…he doesn’t look too bright. You’re not willing to take your chances and let him walk off with a book that you might never see again.

“I started reaching for it first,” you scowl, “you just sped up your hand once you saw me. I should get it.”

“Unlikely,” he scoffs, “I didn’t even see you. Although,” he gives you a once over with his eyes, making you feel uncomfortably seen under his judging gaze, “I suppose you were a bit easy to miss.”

You gape at him. “Just what does that mean?”

“It means,” he smirks, taking the opportunity to grab the book as you stand in shock, “that I got here first.”

“Hey!” You glare at him, seeing red for a moment. What a perfectly good waste of a perfectly handsome face—and such an awful attitude coupled with his ridiculously smug grin couldn’t make for a worse combination. But, before you can even say anything, the book is being pressed back into your hands.

“You seem like you want it more than I do, though,” he hums, “I suppose I can let you have it. It’s a bit outdated for this ordinance, anyway.” With that, he saunters off. You push down the soft flutter in your heart for a moment and force yourself to hope you’ll never see him again. (Faintly, you hope your wishes don’t come true—but you refuse to admit it to yourself.)

Unfortunately (and fortunately at the same time) for you, you do see him again. Many, many times, in fact. When he works in the House of Daena as often as he does, and you like to spend all your free time there to study if you can, you’re both bound to run into each other often. Very often. 

And sometimes, it’s quite literally running into him. 

“Oof,” you hiss, staggering backward and hitting your head against the bookshelf behind you as you bump into a sturdy figure. You drop the books in your hand, blinking before reaching to rub your read as you start to apologize. “Sorry, I didn’t see you—oh. It’s you.”

“It’s me,” he says, looking mildly entertained. Alhaitham is everywhere. Everywhere. You can’t escape him if you try, and now, you can’t even avoid him in your own personal space. “Although, I think I should be the one apologizing this time. I was too busy reading to pay attention. This section is usually empty at this time.”

“How often are you in here to know what section is empty at what time?” You raise a brow. 

“Too often to be considered good for my well-being,” he says dryly, sighing in misery. You crack a smile at that. Oddly enough, so does he—you don’t think you’ve ever heard someone say they’ve seen Alhaitham smile. It must be a rare sight that only you, and perhaps a very few others, can say they’ve witnessed. “I was just about to take a break to buy a coffee—I’ll bring one back for you, too, to make up for the cranial damage I’ve supplied.”

“A most wonderful idea,” you perk up instantly, “I love when I get to drain the wallet of a man.”

He gives you an amused look at that. And somehow, bringing you a coffee along with his own during his breaks is a habit that seems to stick for a long, long while after that. 

────────────────────────

TWENTY TWO.

Alhaitham’s feelings are hurt. Not a lot of words tend to do that—he’s been blessed with thick skin and an unbothered attitude to a fault, sometimes. But something about today, for some odd reason, hurts his feelings. 

Your words to the waiter who took your order keep ringing in his head. 

Oh goodness, no, we are definitely not dating!

Most people mistake you and Alhaitham for a pair of lovers rather than a pair of friends. It’s just the way things go when a man and a woman are seen together for extended periods of time over and over. It doesn’t help that Alhaitham doesn’t really have any friends. He had one before you, but…well, things are complicated now. Far too complicated to think about it more than necessary. He has you, and that’s enough. But the matter still stands that most people tend to assume that something blossoms between the two of you that isn’t just friendly. 

He was starting to think it was true himself, too. He knows it’s true from his end, at least. But you say those words with such a sure, definitive tone that it almost sounds like you’re offended by the notion of being seen as his girlfriend. And sure, he would be disappointed—he’s no liar—if you didn’t feel romantically for him, but he’d understand. It’s not something you can help. But you brush off the idea like it’s an anomaly of sorts in the universe for someone like you and someone like Alhaitham to be a couple. It hurts his feelings. More than it should. 

(He knows deep down, in the depths of his heart, that you don’t mean it that way. You never would. But irrationality is but one of many feelings that bloom when it comes to romance.)

Alhaitham knows from a young age he’s different than most kids his age. This fact doesn’t change as he gets older. He’s brighter than most of his peers—which is certainly saying something because Sumeru is a nation filled with enough sharp minds, it’s as though brilliance were the average trait. People don’t typically like Alhaitham (which is fine by him, he doesn’t like most of them, either. They mostly don’t meet his standards). The kids don’t play with him in the parks that Grandmother would leave him at while she shopped around at the market, and they don’t sit with him on his one and only day at the Akademiya when he is but an elementary scholar. It never bothered him. He preferred reading under the trees and self-learning at home, anyway. When he’s older and enrolled in the Akademiya full-time, they don’t prefer to partner with him for projects for any other reason than simply being guaranteed a good grade, and they don’t spare him a glance when they all converse in groups outside of class. He never cared for freeloaders, anyway—he only trusts himself for projects, and he is at the Akademiya to learn, not make friends. 

It’s not until he meets Kaveh does he consider the idea that friendships are meaningful enough to spare some effort into. But the end result of that only solidifies that he is best when in solitude. 

But then he meets you. Some part of Alhaitham knows very early on that you would never be just a friend to him. If it was friendship that he craved, he would have looked for it elsewhere before running into you. Something about you from the very beginning makes him yearn for things much deeper than that. Things that remind him of his parents. 

Friendship is fleeting. People at the Akademiya go their separate ways and meet new people. They fall out and have arguments. They grow up and grow apart and become different. But love blooms like the Kalpalata lotuses on a vine, timeless as time itself. It starts and never ends, one root stemming into more and more vines until they never stop growing.

Alhaitham has fallen in love with you. Logic tells him it’s only a recent development, but his heart has known this outcome would be brought about for a long, long time. And, in all truthfulness, your words have hurt his feelings. 

And yet, he still loves you through it. He thinks that even if you crushed his feelings with a cold, indifferent smile, he would still love you through it. 

A hand waves in front of his face, pulling him from his thoughts as you take a sip from your coffee. Puspa Cafe is not as busy at this hour, most people are in the middle of a work day, but Alhaitham is allowed to pick his lunch hour, and yours happens to be earlier than most.

“Sorry, I just have to ask—are…are you upset?” you ask gently, making him pause. 

Yes.

“No,” he says simply, “why would I be?”

“You seem upset.”

“I’m not.”

“You were fine up until…I don’t know, a few minutes ago. Is something on your mind?”

You know him so well, he thinks. How could you not see how perfect the two of you are together?

“I’m simply concerned about your sugar intake is all,” he eyes the cold, iced drink in your hands with more syrups than he deems necessary. You always have a penchant for choosing the sweetest drink off the menu, and Alhaitham will never understand how your teeth don’t rot.

“Well, that’s very funny,” you roll your eyes, “because I was just thinking about how low on vitamin D you must be—do you ever leave your study to see the sun?”

He spares you a soft chuckle at that, shaking his head before taking a sip of his own coffee—hot and black and with two spoons of sugar. Simple, like how he prefers. You make a face at his drink as he sets it down. 

“Have you ever thought about what you look for in a partner?” he asks suddenly, making you blink in shock for a moment. He flinches at his own forwardness just a tad. 

“Umm, I suppose a little here and there…why do you ask?”

“No reason,” he shrugs, “just curious what your type was, that’s all. You’re painfully single, so I figured your taste was rather distinct.”

“Rude,” you scoff, rolling your eyes enough that he thinks it’s safe to assume you’re not suspicious. “Are you here just to poke fun at my choices today?”

Alhaitham should not be asking you this. Not when the answer so clearly is going to hurt his already very bruised feelings. Of course, your type won’t be him. And, of course, he is going to mourn your answer the second you give it, which is his own fault considering he’s the one who asked. (He has to wonder, for a moment, if this constitutes as an undiscovered hidden kink of his and whether or not he really just gets off on some unnecessary pain. Why else would he willingly subject himself to this?)

But, he’s caught off guard when you shrug and simply say, “I suppose someone who’s intelligent. I’d appreciate some good discussions. And…and maybe someone who’s kind, y’know? I would be rather sad if they were mean,” you pretend to sniffle dramatically.

“That’s…that’s it?” He tilts his head in equal parts shock and equal parts confusion. 

“What did you expect me to look for in a partner?” You snort, “A three-story mansion? A rock-solid, chiseled chest to lay on?” 

“Well, no,” he rolls his eyes, “Maybe something a bit less generic to narrow down your pool, I suppose, but if that’s your bar, so be it. There are far too many men who are intelligent and kind, you know.”

“Yes, but none of them show me any signs of interest,” you pout, “I must be undesirable or something.”

I desire you, he wants to say. He can’t quite find the courage to get the words out, though—and as if the universe has it completely out for him, the same waiter from earlier who is responsible for asking you the question that kills Alhaitham’s mood for the day comes back with the bill. And something else, too. 

Something that kills his mood for the week. 

His jaw clenches a tad when you flush at the note scribbled on a napkin for you, eyeing your flustered reaction while you read over the words: I get off at eight if you’d like to find me. You stare for a moment before you murmur, “Well, look at that. A sign of interest—it must be the Dendro Archon’s divine power.”

“The Divine have no say over who you fall for,” he insists.

“You don’t know that,” you hum thoughtfully, “The God of Wisdom knows her people better than anyone else, you know. I’d like to think she knows when love is bound for two people.”

You fold the napkin carefully and keep it in your pocket, and Alhaitham fishes out his mora pouch with stiff fingers. He leaves a very shoddy tip on the table before he exits after you. 

────────────────────────

TWENTY THREE.

You wake up in his bed. 

It’s a foggy memory, but you know you fucked Alhaitham after more sips of wine than you can count and one flirty comment too many. It happened in a blur last night, and you can’t say you’re surprised that it finally happened at all. Alhaitham is a man just like any other, and mingling pleasure with friendship is a normal thing to do. Falling under him on his mattress is not something you never had daydreams of—but the truth of the matter is that your daydreams don’t just stop with the bed.

They end with a toothbrush beside his in the bathroom. A mug next to his in the kitchen. Your shoes kicked off along with his at the entrance of a home. Your laughter and his bouncing off of the walls. A ring, maybe. One on your hand and one on his. 

In your imagination, it starts with pleasure, but it ends with love.

Falling in love with Alhaitham is a peaceful ordeal. He’s dependable and inherently kind. Strong and impressively capable. Intelligent and objectively handsome. You’d bring him home to your mother and father, and they’d thank Lord Kusanali for smiling down upon their humble little family and their darling little daughter by sending such a divine man your way. 

You don’t think you can pinpoint when exactly it is you started to love this boy, but you know loving him became as simple as breathing. You never thought about it. Never learned to do it. Never questioned it, even. You inhale the scent of his spicy, woody cologne and exhale the warm breath of your affections stored in your lungs. He lives somewhere nestled so deep in your ribcage that you think you’d have to crack each of them one after the other before you could pry him out.

You love Alhaitham. You think you know everything there is to know about loving him. You think you’d do it right—better than anyone else. 

He only drinks his coffee when it’s piping hot, and his wine can never be one degree less than iced. He has dry hands, but he hates the feeling of lotion. He doesn’t like raw onions but he doesn’t mind them cooked. When the sun is in his eyes, he’s in a foul mood, but he enjoys napping under the warm rays, much like a cat. He laughs surprisingly boyishly from his belly if you manage to deliver a dry yet clever enough joke, and he clears his throat and gets a bit shy once he’s realized he’s let it out. He twirls his pen in his hand when he’s bored, and he only uses the kind with gel ink because they write smoother. 

You love Alhaitham. For you, it’s always been him. 

When you wake up to his bare, warm body next to yours, breathing peacefully with an arm thrown over your waist, you can’t help but selfishly wish he’d stay asleep all day. Just for a day. Just for the amount of time you get in between the sun’s departure and the moon’s arrival. Just so you can watch him exist in this moment where it’s you, him, and the liminal space between friends and lovers. Just so you can admire how beautiful he is without worrying about his eyes opening and the inevitable conversation of what you’re both doing is brought up. 

People (like Kaveh, or Dehya, or Tighnari, or…anyone) tend to insist that Alhaitham loves you. It’s obvious, they say, just as obvious as your love for him. You never believe it. It’s not because he’s bad at love or because you’re bad for him. You think he’d make a good lover—contrary to popular belief, you don’t think Alhaitham is uninterested in intimacy or affection. And you think you’d make a good girlfriend—unlike other people, you understand him and like what you see. 

But he doesn’t love you. That much is a fact you’ve long accepted. It’s not because you’re bad for him or because he’s incapable of feeling—but rather, it’s just that bitter, soul-crushing reality that you can’t help who you love and who you don’t. Alhaitham doesn’t love you—it’s not something either of you can really change. Because if he did, he’d waste no time. He’d get to the heart of the matter and quit dancing around the issue. 

It’s just the kind of guy that he is. 

So, because this is your first and likely last time seeing him this way, you slowly reach over and brush a few strands of messy, unruly bedhead from his forehead before cupping his cheek in your hand. His skin is soft and warm under your palm, much more delicate to the touch than you anticipated from how chiseled his features are. Your thumb gently brushes along the slant of his cheekbone, eyes softening at how he lets out a puff of air as he sleeps. 

“Morning,” he says hoarsely, eyes still closed and making you jolt in surprise. He lets out a quiet, sleepy chuckle that would make you melt if not for the way your heart still pounds from the shock. 

“You’re awake?”

“Mhm,” he hums, nodding before finally cracking an eye open. “For a while now.”

“Why pretend to sleep then, you creep?” You scoff, glaring at him as he sits up slightly and glances at you with a teasing glint in his eyes. No part of him seems to be shocked about you being nude in his bed. Or the fact that you’re even in his bed at all, nude or not. 

“You’re the creep if we’re being technical here. It’s undoubtedly a little on the creepy side to study someone with such careful touches while they sleep.”

“That’s your main concern…?” You stare at him—and for lack of better words, you’re dumbfounded. You and Alhaitham have been friends for two years and counting. You’ve never once crossed the line or even toed at it to step beyond the border of anything more. And, yet, here you are. In his bed. Completely nude. He was lying there and felt your delicate touch along his skin, felt you act like a lover and not a friend on a quiet, intimate morning when in fact, you both should be shamefully avoiding each other’s eyes in a moment that’s anything but intimate as you leave. 

He makes no move to ask you to leave or even question why you’re still here. You make no move to really leave—it’s not like you want to. 

“What should my main concern be, then?” he looks at you expectantly, like he really doesn’t know.

“Oh, I don’t know, Alhaitham—shouldn’t you be a little more panicked by the idea that I’ve trespassed into your bed and seen you…bare?”

“Well, to be fair, you didn’t trespass. I let you in—and also, to be fair, I saw the same for you, too, so we’re even.”

“You’re oddly calm about this,” you hiss. “This doesn’t bother you even a little? That things might change?”

He looks at you funny—like you’ve just told him a joke that hardly makes sense but makes him want to laugh anyway. “You’re too brilliant to be this dense,” he murmurs. “Maybe I’m quite open to the idea of change.”

You take offense to the first part enough to completely miss the second part of his statement. 

“I am not dense,” you huff, “I’m incredibly bright. I’ll have to send you my thesis sometime.”

“No need,” he responds through a low hum. He pulls you closer, flush against his chest. Bare skin on skin. Intimate skin, at that. You shiver for a moment as his warm, large hand wanders lower and lower before stopping just at the small of your back, rubbing slow circles at the dimple where your spine ends. “I’ve read it plenty of times. It was very insightful.”

“Well, in that case, you should know not to insult my intelligence—”

“If you don’t notice my affection for you, I’m afraid you might not be as observant as I initially thought.”

You pause. Your heart flutters. Then it feels like it decays. Your eyes widen a fraction. Then they feel like they need to be squeezed shut for fear of tears. You feel your fingers twitch to reach for him. And yet they stiffen in distrust. 

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” you whisper. Because you don’t.

You really fucking don’t. You thought you knew. His feelings and how to read them. His thoughts and how his mind works. Every little quirk of his and how he approaches every damn thing in this world. You thought you knew.

Now you feel like you don’t know much of anything, especially not what he means right in this moment. 

“You don’t?” He whispers, hand moving to grab your wrist and bring it to his cheek so his lips can brush along the delicate lines of your palm prints. (If he was brave, he’d tell you that his destiny and yours are written in those very lines. Maybe someday he’ll build the courage.)

“No,” you say through a shaky whisper. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I love you. Just like you love me.” He says it so plainly, that you almost feel like it's a dry, cruel joke. (You know him a little better than that, though, to know he’d never.)

“How do you know I love you?” you challenge just because it’s all you have left to cling to—easy, instant denial. 

He laughs. Soft. Quiet. Melodic. So fucking sweet. “I’m too smart to act dense,” Alhaitham teases. And then, for a moment, his eyes soften enough that they almost look vulnerable. “And only someone who loves me could deal with my… peculiarities. Though, I will admit, it took me quite a while to reach this conclusion. You made me work for it.”

“If you’ve known all along—” 

“Not all along,” he corrects, “like I said, it took me a while to come to this conclusion. But once I did, it was rather obvious.”

You scowl with a finger prodding into his chest, eyes misty with relief and the faintest traces of agitation, “Well, regardless, why haven’t you said something all this time? Obviously, I wasn’t as aware as you seem to be, so the least you could have done is spared me the pining and heartbreak of wondering if you’d ever look at me—”

“I wanted to make sure I could offer you a peaceful life first,” he says gently. You blink. He smiles, eyeing something in the distance—you don’t quite catch it, but you think it might be the old, worn-out stack of envelopes sitting on his desk. 

“What?”

“When you’re with me,” he whispers, leaning in so that his lips brush over yours, “I can lead a peaceful life. I wanted to make sure I could give you the same.”

“And what does that consist of?” you raise a brow. 

“Well,” he murmurs, pecking the corner of your mouth, “A stable job with a generous income, which I now have. A fixed schedule, which I have also negotiated. A proper home to house the both of us, which you are comfortably laying in. And…” he grabs your hand, bringing it to his chest where his heart is beating erratically, “A rock-solid, chiseled chest to lay on, which I have dedicatedly worked to add to my physique for you.”

“Haitham!” you squeal, shoving him away with a horrified shriek as he laughs with a wide grin. You don’t even know why he still remembers that comment to poke fun at it, but you suppose that is the tragedy of falling for a prodigious scholar. His mind is sharp. And so is his memory. “Enough!”

“Okay, okay,” he grins smugly. “I want us to lead a peaceful life.”

“There’s not a lot of peace I am counting on with you.”

“I will elect to ignore that statement,” he says dryly, “But that’s why I waited this long,” he buries his face into your neck, nose pressing into the skin as he inhales, “I’m afraid I can’t wait any longer, though. Won’t you accept my frugal attempt at a serene life with you?”

“Perhaps I can make do,” you fight back a stupid grin.

He smiles into your neck. You can feel it. You can practically see it. You hope you’ll grow old with it, too. 

“Then I suppose I’m forever indebted to your graciousness, my love.”

────────────────────────

TWENTY FOUR.

When Alhaitham was eight, Grandmother told him the story of how his parents had fallen in love. It was a typical love story, he thought at the time—nothing overly special or unique. A simple, sweet bond between two people who became friends and something more along the way.

What stood out were the letters. Not very much at first, but with time, he’d realized how special they were. 

Grandmother handed him the letters with a soft, melancholy look in her eyes that made him realize he hadn’t just lost his father and mother. She had lost her son and daughter-in-law. Alhaitham felt the absence of his parents often. It was hard not to at that age—he didn’t have a father to throw a ball to or tag along with to the market. He didn’t have a mother to hum him a melody or make his favorite dish for dinner. But Grandmother filled the gaps in those places well enough that even if his heart bled, not too much blood spilled between the cracks.

But he was no son. Not a proper one for her at her age, anyway. She raised him like he was her own, but she grew older every day, and he didn’t grow fast enough to keep up. He couldn’t take care of her in her old age the way his father would have. He couldn’t do much besides bring the vegetables for her to cut or set the table while she cooked. He couldn’t offer her the mora when she went to the market or carry too many of the heavy bags while they walked home. He couldn’t let her rest in her old age too much because, regardless of how mature and bright he was for his age, Alhaitham was just a child. Her child, nonetheless—Grandmother didn’t let him forget that fact. But a child.

When she died, he arranged the funeral alone. He didn’t cry throughout the whole ordeal. Her old colleagues from way back in her Akademiya days came, as did some of his parents’ old acquaintances. No one he knew too familiarly, though—no one who really mattered when they clasped his shoulder and told him to hang in there.

She was a good woman. He knew that already.

She was very intelligent. A very obvious fact.

She was exceptionally kind. A rather unsurprising observation.

She loved very deeply. Well. That one stung—as true as it might have been.

He remembers it so vividly still. How he had walked home alone after it all. How he had taken off his tie (a very poorly tied tie, at that—Grandmother had always helped him before) and silently entered his room.

It wasn’t until he had eyed his desk that finally, it all sank in. The notes—the ones his father had so carefully written his mother while they were still just starting to fall in love, sat there as if waiting for him. He read them one by one, just like he had so many times before. He didn’t realize he’d started crying until a rivulet of his sorrow landed from his cheek to the page, staining the paper a darker shade of heartache. 

Alone. 

That’s all Alhaitham had ever been since the tender age of four. At least, that’s what people had always thought—but he’d never felt the sorrow people tended to feel for him. Not having a father and mother was okay. Hard at times, but okay. Grandmother had been everything he needed. More than what he needed, in fact. 

Grandmother was everything. And she had left him just the same way his parents had. He’d cried that night—alone in a house that was nothing more than just a house. Not a home, not a place where he could return to and look forward to it. Not a place where love was waiting for him to shelter him as soon as he came back from the cruel, outside world.

Grandmother was gone. Mother and father had left so long ago. But they all had each other—in whatever world they’d crossed to, they’d had each other. 

He remembers it all so vividly still. How he’d read his father’s words, and for the first time in all his life, he’d craved it. What his parents had. 

To my love, my soul, my heart. I am yours, always. 

He wondered that night, through teary and blurry eyes, if love like that would ever find him. If he’d one day be able to call someone his love, soul, and heart.

He thinks now, as you laugh with your head tilted forward and a tweezer in hand while sitting on his lap, that he can. 

“Hold still, you,” comes your teasing remark, “you said this would be nothing. Now look at you.”

“You’re being too harsh,” he grumbles, pouting slightly. With a smile, you bend your neck down and press a soft kiss to his jutted lips, humming before pressing an extra one to the corner of his mouth for good measure. (And yes, the grand sage—acting, you can almost hear him correct in your own head—can pout. He is rather frequent at curling those lips of his in your presence when he wants something, in fact. Or when he is teased too much. Something about you brings about a side of him that is much less stoic and far more dramatized.)

“You can just admit it hurts, you know,” you say through an amused snort.

“It won’t hurt if you just do it right.”

“I’m an expert at tweezing eyebrows,” you huff, “I do mine all the time. And I would know that it hurts.”

“It can’t be that painful,” he clicks his teeth, “just be gentle.”

“I cannot gently pull out a hair from your follicle, Haitham—I don’t know what you want me to—hey!”

He grabs the tweezers from your hand and pulls you close, hugging you tight enough that his nose digs into your skin a bit as he buries it into your neck. It’s Saturday. His first out of two days off for the week—standard scribe work weeks are nine to five on weekdays, and he very much appreciates his weekends away from the bustling, lively Akademiya nonsense. 

Saturday happens to be your day off, too. 

“Where is Kaveh?” you ask quietly, playing with the hem of his shirt. He raises a brow, eyeing the suspicious movement of your fingers.

“Working with a client in Aaru Village. He won’t be back until tomorrow evening. Why am I not enough company for you?”

“Oh, be quiet,” you roll your eyes, and this time, your hands wander under his shirt, palms slowly dragging along his chiseled, planed abdomen while he shivers slightly under your touch. “I was just asking if…”

“If…?” he urges you to continue.

You know he knows. But, for the sake of indulging his smug, teasing little game, you huff and push his shirt up to expose his chest before murmuring, “If we would be interrupted or not. I don’t fancy such awkward run-ins with your roommate.”

“Our roommate,” he corrects, “this is your home, too.”

“Yes,” you smile, brushing your palms over his pectorals, watching as he stiffens when you graze along his nipples, “I suppose it is.”

“Well, he’s not here. And he won’t be, so kiss me,” he demands through a breathy whisper. You do. You kiss him instantly—because kissing Alhaitham is what you do best. When he’s happy, sad, angry, distressed, or just plain tired, kissing him is how you know him the most. When your breaths exchange and your life force and his mingle to become one, singular unit. 

You sigh into his mouth, letting his hands cradle your jaw and tilt your head to better meet his mouth, all while your hands still explore his upper half. He moans under your touch, cock springing to life slowly below you through his pants. You angle your hips forward, inching higher up his lap to drag your crotch along his and help the erection grow against the friction. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, hard and heavy between his legs in no time. 

“Haitham,” you breathe, feeling that familiar ache build between your own thighs. 

You kiss him like that for a bit. Messy, deep, sloppy, and so, so slow. With all the time in the world. Languid strokes of your tongue against his as he rolls his hips up from underneath you, dragging his clothed, bulging cock against your dripping cunt. The fabric separates you, rudely so, and it’s not long until you both grow tired of it. 

“Off,” you whine, tugging at his pants, “off, off, off!”

“So demanding,” he chuckles, pecking your nose sweetly before he lifts his hips, letting you slide off his sweatpants. “Satisfied?” 

“Yes,” you beam, “You always give me what I want. It’s my favorite thing about you.”

His gaze darkens at that—not for any other reason than it makes him so incredibly filled with lust when you speak to him like that. So spoiled and happy about it because it’s him. Him. You’re happy that it’s him. And he’s happy that it’s you. 

You don’t even bother undressing yourselves fully—he pulls down your own pants just enough to expose your pretty, leaking folds, and his hands wander under your shirt, where he almost short-circuits for a moment. Braless. Because you just love to drive him mad, he thinks. This much easy access to your soft, delicate breasts and the pert nipples that decorate them is enough to make him curse under his breath as his thumbs tease over them. 

“You’re a tease.”

“For simply existing?” you gasp, making him crack a small grin. 

“Yes,” he hums, “Your existence on its own teases me at all times. I’m afraid it drives me mad.”

You hum, reaching forward to gently take his hard, leaking cock into your hand and give a light, teasing squeeze. “Maybe my goal is to turn you completely into a lost cause.”

“Then,” he groans, throwing his head back against the couch cushions while he breathes harshly, “then you’re definitely succeeding. Is that what you wished to hear?”

“Yes,” you whisper, kissing his jaw, “It is, actually.”

It doesn’t take long at all before Alhaitham has tossed you back against the couch, laughing as you shriek at the sudden change of position. You glare at him, fighting back your own chorus of giggles as he moves to hover over you, kissing and biting playfully along your cheeks. 

“I love you,” he mumbles.

“Aw, so sweet,” you coo, “say that again.”

He rolls his eyes. His lips curl into the brightest grin at the same time. My love, my soul, my heart—the words are ingrained in his memory always. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” you whisper.

He leans in for a soft, slow kiss as the tip of his leaking cock slides against your folds, tapping against your clit before rubbing along your entrance. You gasp, shuddering against him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. 

“You know,” he murmurs, “I could get used to this.”

“Sex on the couch? We can do that any time—”

“A weekend with just the two of us,” he groans, dropping his head to your neck as you laugh loudly. Bright. Airy. A sound the wind carries to him in his subconscious. He hears you even when you’re not there—even when you aren’t around, he searches for you. 

“Oh,” you say playfully, “Yeah, I guess that’s nice too, isn’t it?”

“I’ll show you just how nice it’s about to be,” he hums. The tip of his thick, blunt head is pressed against your folds—you’re leaking just as much as he is. You slick, and his pre cum mix for a messy collision of arousal as he presses into you slowly, so carefully, you feel like you could break at any second with how he handles you. 

He’s patient. When Alhaitham fucks you, he’s patient enough that you feel like his other half and not his means of pleasure. Like he fucks you for you and not for himself. 

“More,” you insist, impatient as you add, “I can take it.”

“Patience is a virtue,” he clicks his teeth, “I want to take my time feeling you.”

And he does. He rolls his hips slowly. So slowly, you feel delirious. It’s a painful, gradual build-up of pleasure that has you trying to roll your hips into him to meet him halfway, a pathetic attempt when he’s on top of you to press his weight down on you to keep you in place. 

“Please, Haitham,” you whine, sweat shining across your sweet, pleasure-hazed face as he stares down at you, “Please more. I need it—need you. Need all of you.”

“You have all of me,” he groans, feeling the tight walls of your cunt squeeze around him, the squelching noise of his thick girth bullying into your folds in and out, in and out, in and out, driving him to the brink of insanity. “You’ve always had every piece of me.”

“I want more,” you hiss. 

He lets out a breathy laugh that turns into a soft moan. “If that’s what you want.”

The next thing you know, two strong, muscled arms are grabbing your thighs and bringing them around his torso to wrap around him, and his large hands grab your hips and pull, practically manhandling you deeper onto his cock. You shudder, letting out a shrill, high-pitched gasp as he intrudes further into your cunt, nudging the head of his cock against your sweetest of spots and making your body tremble. 

“Haitham,” you gasp, “Haitham, fuck—fuck, you feel so good. So deep—love when you fuck me like this.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, kissing in between your pretty little scrunched-up eyebrows, “I love fucking you like this, too. When you take me so well, squeeze so tight, and let me feel you like the good girl you are.”

His words make your folds squeeze around him, and fuck—he’s close. So fucking close, the pad of his rough, callused thumb meets your clit as he rubs circles, trying to bring you to the edge before he goes plummeting himself. 

“‘M close—almost…almost there,” you pant.

“Me too, baby,” he groans. He slams into you, skin slapping against skin and the glistening sheen of it mixing your sweat together. His mouth parts with pretty, low sounds of his pleasure, and your face twists with the devastating rush of yours. 

Once. Twice. A third time, and you fall apart as he thrusts into you and presses the tip of his thick length against the spongey spot in the back of your walls. 

“Haitham,” you gasp, legs tightening around him as your nails press crescent shapes into his back. “Fuck, I’m c-cumming…oh, Gods.”

“Good,” he gasps, and with one last roll of his desperate hips, he spills into you, too. A thick, sticky, familiar rush of heat fills your cunt, ropes of cum painting you white within with every twitch of his aching cock. “Fuck—you feel so good. So perfect—you were made for me. Me.”

“You,” you whisper, breathless. 

You let him shudder over you, fingers running through his hair as he finishes releasing his load into you before he slumps his weight over your body. It’s a small couch—decorative more than functional. (All thanks to Kaveh, of course.) But you don’t particularly care when you’re under him. It feels right all the same. 

“We have the house to ourselves this weekend,” he reminds you after some time of catching your breaths. “So…so we can do this all you want.”

You giggle, rolling your eyes as you poke his forehead. “You’re obscene.”

“I’m romantic,” he corrects, “I just want to be with you and nothing else. Can’t blame a man when he’s been gifted such a beautiful sight before him.”

“And cheesy, too,” you huff. 

He smiles. My love, my soul, my heart. 

——————————

You wake up Monday morning to Alhaitham already gone—it’s rare that he’s ever up before you. He leaves the house just in time to make it to work exactly on the dot and not a moment sooner or a moment later. But, as is with any Akademiya position, there are quarterly meetings that even the scribe can’t avoid. You giggle at the image in your head of a grumpy Alhaitham carefully tiptoeing around the room as he miserably gets ready for an early morning of extra work, all while making sure he doesn’t wake you. 

You yawn, sitting up to start your morning for your own day of work ahead—but it catches your eye before you can fully rise from bed, making you pause. 

A note? No, you realize almost instantly. Not just a note—a letter:

To my love, my soul, my heart: Kalpalata lotuses will bloom soon. I forget how beautiful the world is sometimes, and I suppose it’s because I am always distracted by your beauty alone. Will you laugh as you read this? I suppose you might because even I must admit, it is a rather cliche thing to say. I can just picture your smile now, and I am certain I will have it memorized until my last breath. It’s easy to remember it so well when it’s all I see in my dreams. Have I told you how often I see you in them? It’s difficult to think that there was once a time in Sumeru when we did not dream. It seems like sleeping beside your body is no longer enough—your presence is required even in my slumber for me to truly be at peace.  Perhaps when the lotuses bloom, we can take a trip to the deeper parts of the rainforest to catch a glimpse of a few. They say the vines are blessed by The Lord herself. I was never one to seek out the divine, but perhaps with a gift as sacred as you, I should take the time to thank Lady Kusanali for granting such brilliance to take bloom in my presence. Only, the difference is that here with you, there are no cliffs to climb or seasons to await. You are mine to bloom, always—my precious, beautiful lotus.  Forever yours,  Haitham ♡

ITS DONE. HAPPY LATE BDAY TO MY FIRST AND LONGEST LOVE. YOU MEAN EVERYTHING AND MORE TO MEEEEE

[nerdsnuff]

⚡️NISHINOYA BOYFRIEND HC’S

my first haikyuu love… still love him btw thats my BABE who deserves more love

𓅪 does not hide his feelings. at all. he WILL be the one to confess. no buts. on a random day and not even fully planned… just blurts it out impulsively.

you were getting the last of your things in your locker before you finally head home for the day, imagine your surprise when you see nishinoya next to you when you closed your locker door. he simply laughs as you yelp, heart almost bursting out. “hahah! sorry for scaring you! i just really wanted to talk to you. walk to the gate with me?” he offers. though you’re jokingly still ticked off you agree anyways, letting him know with a nod. once you’re done you two head off, the wind is nice and cool this afternoon. “so… there’s something i wanna tell you…” he suddenly stops, so you do too. unexpectedly he raises his voice, startling you once more. “YOU’RE SUPER COOL AND I KNOW THIS IS SUDDEN BUT PLEASE GO OUT WITH ME!”

𓅪 both before and after dating he talks to tanaka all about you all the time. thankfully the guy is never annoyed. and yes he did wingman nishinoya, probably the guy to convince him to just go for it and confess. they’re both pretty intense about their feelings… anyway just imagine the absolute hype when you accept his confession.

𓅪 guard dog boyfriend FR! will not let ANYONE bother you. people hitting on you? jumped. bullies? jumped? some person simply pissing you off? JUMPED. he has a bit of a problem controlling his temper sometimes… you often have to tell him off when he doesn’t realize that backing off is simply a better solution.

𓅪 speaking of guard dog, would absolutely love to take you home as far as he could! if you use the bus then he’ll take you to the stop (though would hop on with you if he could…), if you guys live near each other hell yeah he’d walk you home

𓅪 buys you treats after school!!! loves spoiling you with little snacks. candy, ice cream, cheap cakes, etc. mostly sweets. always takes you to go to coach ukai’s store every after school! he basically remembers what you look like now and teases the two of you.

𓅪 biggest simp like goddamn bro. he isn’t even into romcoms but if he was he’d be doing all the extra shit he sees. that can’t take my eyes off you’ performance from 10 things i hate about you? absolutely he’d do that. he WOULD learn french for you. which is crazy ‘cus he literally struggles to learn englishcough

𓅪 WILL tackle hug you. yes, even if he’s sweaty… can you blame him? he just can’t contain all the love he has for his darling partner!

𓅪 about petnames… 100% a “babe” guy. i mean he’ll call you other things but babe just slips out so much easier for him.

𓅪 he does need help in class but most of the time acts like he doesn’t just to seem cooler. but if it gets real bad he will go to you for help, it doesn’t matter if you’re smarter than him or not.

𓅪 invites you out almost every weekend. unless it’s a busy week or a busy week is coming up, then you guys just call from home.

“y’know, i really wanted to take you cycling today, but i seriously gotta study…” he sighs and adjusts the phone on his ear, causing scratched noises to be heard from his line. “oh yeah, i’m going to tokyo next week! ahah, yeah! i gotta study hard so i can actually go though, wouldn’t let me pass with a bad grade” you hear him chuckle, along with the sound of papers ruffling. “mmhm, it’s a training camp for volleyball” he then unexpectedly pauses for a moment, the unfamiliar silence makes your eyebrow quirk up. though in a quick second, his voice shoots up again. “actually, ryuu’s coming over to study with me soon… wanna join!?”

[blessedshortcake]

SPOILERS FOR MEGAMIND AND MEGAMIND "2" youve been warned

Hi chat im here to bitch and whine give my 2 cents on the new movie even tho im like. A little late. Obligatory read more

I havent seen anyone talk about this yet so im starting with it but... why did they rename Minion? I am not Too bothered by it, i mean a little but thats probably just me im just mostly confused? Is it because of the Minions stuff? So hes more uniqe? Augh my poor boy they did him so dirty

Point 2. Roxanne. What. Just what. Why did they make her like that? I loved how she had different clothes for (probably) every scene, that she wasnt just a generic cartoon character wearing the same outfit for the whole 90 something minutes and yet they just... put her in an (in my opinion) ugly dress and made her hate her job?

She seemed happy in the first movie for the most part. She wrote her own speech in the first scene of it!! I get that things are different now that Megamind is a hero but ITS BEEN 2 DAYS!! Unless her aspirations changed in the first movie and im just too tired to remember then its a huge change. Besides that she was.... okay i guess? Shrug i liked the original more

Oh right! Their relationship or lack there of with Megamind! I was never a huge shipper of them but i didnt mind. I find it sweet at most since they can be silly together but only if given more time and fleshed out more. Im more interested in seeing their progression, learning about each other, adressing past stuff (like how Megamind was hiding as Bernard for god knows how long i am so tired i cant remember this move killed my brain) and i dont care if theyre a couple or just friends or something in between for all of that

But...... seeing as (and i can only assume) the first movies last scene of him accepting the new museum that was rebuilt for his image happened months after the Titan thing and they literally Kissed and whatever id ASSUME there is something between them to kiss like that IN A PUBLIC EVENT IN FRONT OF THE CITY?

And yes i love my platonic kisses but lets be real. This was made by a Company and this is a het couple theres no way they would let them kiss as just friends. Like id be the happiest mf on earth if they did but from previous movie track records i dont think thats the case

If the movie was like set between the Titan thing and the reopen of the museum id understand. Then yeah, things are complicated between them. But we SEE the museum like at least once so??? Ugh i dont know why im so caught up on everything this movie was full of contradictions

Before i go to the main issue (the whole movie is the issue but i digress) i wanna talk about the world itself.

Where did the smart phone come from?????? Hello??? Movie 1 had flip phones at best + whatever Megamind made but hes like a genius so like that doesnt quite fall into public tech stuff. Why did they nerf the dehydration gun? That was instant or near instant before why did it take seconds now?? Megamind has a whole new lair AFTER 2 DAYS-

Why is everyone so stupid and disrespectful? The whole key ceremony was 100% unneeded if hes already an esteemed hero? Whatever.

Now the main bone i have to pick. MEGAMIND.

He could not be more OOC. I cant belive this was an actual movie not like some fan project. God

They already had a whole thing in the first movie how he needs Minion more and he needs to listen to him and how he appreciates him. Why did we go back to ground 0?

If they REALLY needed a conflict where Minion wanted to be a sidekick and Megamind didnt want that to happen (which... i dont even know why they needed that? Perhaps with Minion away from the lair when the DS showed up the issue dragged on much longer? Shrug) THEN THEY COULD HAVE DONE AAAANYTHING ELSE!!!

Might i remind the creators that in the highpoint of the first movie, when Minion used the disguise watch and helped Roxanne escape so Megamind can defeat Titan as a fake Metro Man he got (kinda) hurt? Like his tank shattered and he was drying out. Sure he was fine but THAT already couldve been a better motivator!!

Megamind being scared to let Minion be his sidekick because he has been with him for all of his life, his first and best friend in the whole galaxy, his caretaker since he was a baby, his last connection to his home planet even, got hurt and could have easily died. I mean they pretty much killed like 3 people if not more in this movie so its not far fetched but like-

The conflict being Megamind grapping with his concience (spelling??) of wanting to make Minion happy and letting him express himself more, and his terror of the possibility of losing him. Like if thats too heavy they can make it more lighthearted and jokey there are Definitely ways to do that but that already is a better conflict oh my GOD.

Also DS couldve been soloed with the dehydratuion gun if it wasnt nerfed. He just walks behind them and bam. Problem solved. What the hell

point 3? I lost count. WHY DID THEY DUMB HIM DOWNNNNNNN OMG

HES SUPPOSED TO BE A GENIUS!! Sure Minion takes care of him since he can get too in his head with his ideas as we see. Multiple times. But hes not an idiot. He would know how a toaster WORKS HES NOT XBDNSN MAIMS!!

Anyway

I finished the movie like an hour ago but i already forgot that little girls name oops. She was... weird. I wasnt too annoyed about her more so confused? Since shes the only person with a smart phone? And she had half a million followers for her Megamind blog? IN 2 DAYS? Right. Felt very forced to put her into any and all of the scenes

Back to our massacared blue hero. He would NEVER be like that. More specifically with the DS. One of the main parts of him is that he was lonely!! He never had friends!! He is sooo socially stunted he doesnt know many many basic concepts as an adult!! Like how phones work or views or i cant remember anything else what a disgrace but like!!

He would never go to evil school. Why would there be an evil school also?? But he never had anyone but Minion!! He was sooo lonely without Metroman he had to DIY a new dude!! He became a villian because people kept bullying him for being different and weird and so he decided to become what they make him out to be! If he had friends like how the DS makes it out to be, hell, like how the movie makes it out to be then he would never abandon them like that. He would NEVER

Also him the leader?? Are you kidding me?? Where was Minion during all that? And even then why didnt they just use the original DS material? I was hoping to see the fire lady where did she go :( (i cant remember any names tonight huh)

Everyone is so dumb in this movie it hurts. 0 spacial awareness, the conversations dont feel like they fit together, some scenes they literally repeat stuff that was either said already or just dont relate at all. I dont know why that is but it bothered me a lot

The DS looked and acted dumb, they were the most generic ass villains like... WHY DIDNT YOU USE THE ORIGINAL- whatever im. Sigh. But really it was so weird???? If Megamind was supposed to be their LEADER why were they so disrespectful to him? He feared them plenty and yeah sure its because he lied to them but leaders usually are respected. They treated him like shit and didnt listen to him once. Rushed him the whole time and kept making him do things like....... girl... thats your LEADER. Ex leader at worst. Maybe dont throw a party in his HOUSE without even asking or warning him and tell him to not be a party pooper when he demands you to stop it. I have a headache now

The ending was....... interesting. Roxanne becoming mayor feels unrealistic and rushed but alas it fits to the theme of the movie because of that (aka being rushed and unrealistic). The M signal is. Laughable. Silly at the very best. It got a laugh out of me but its just.... unneeded. I dont know i dont get why they had to add it you know. Also obligatory Minion out of the tank moment oh wow woo yippe Why

Overall? There were like 3 jokes at best that i liked + the dance off scene was nice. Funny and kinda in character even. The rest? I will be mad about it forever. 1.5/10

[lucabyte]

Perceptive kid, I wonder just how much they pretend not to overhear.

[faecaribou]

Mercs reactions to time traveler Scout:

general note: there's something to be said about when you visit childhood homes you find yourself falling back on old habits and acting younger AND the fact that he's grieving his children that would make Scout probably act just as quick to violence as gravel war Scout would be. obviously though he's not going to actually be the same.

Soldier: I dont imagine much changes, for all that Scout is now a lot more cool-headed, I imagine Soldier is really good at riling Scout up. Also, previous note. so im sure these twos dynamics are mostly the same except that they both have less head-butting moments, especially after Scout starts doing his "oough my kids" thing. Also I imagine Scout tries asking Soldier about Merasmus the wizard and Soldier is like "how do you know my roommate" and Scout is like "dont worry about it. say does your roommate dabble in time travel magic" and Soldier is like "how would I know" and thats Scouts in with Merasmus which will lead nowhere because its not Merasmus that brought Scout back to the Gravel Wars.

Pyro: first person Scout befriends because he's the least likely to care about Scout being overly friendly, also future Scout has knowledge already on how to understand and interact with Pyro. Here's a lighter. Let's draw together. oops I said something that doesnt make sense without future knowledge. Pyro would not care. bestie core

Demo: obligatory 'huh this guy is kinda weird'. that being said Demo isn't going to necessarily care. He deals with magic books and wizards and the loch ness monster. so what if this guy acts a little strange. couple drinks together and they'll be great coworkers. except a couple drinks in and Scout (lightweight) starts crying about how his kids dont exist anymore. which is a weird way to say dead but ohhhhh fuck. Demo (mommy and daddy issues for sure) is never drinking with Scout again. holy fuck.

Heavy: I imagine they very much have a brothers vibe. Scout is still, in essence, Scout, and thus is going to be talking a lot and Heavy has a level of patience and sympathy for the (youngest) guy on the team that he is willing to sit there and listen. It also helps that future Scout probably isnt calling him fat or other names as much as the original Scout wouldve. Finding out about the kids just makes Heavy more protective of this sort of younger brother. Heavy for sure thinks that Scout was super irresponsible as a 20 year old if he already has dead kids at 25 and he probably wishes on some level he could just hide Scout away like he actual younger sisters but oh well.

Engineer: Future Scout still has some daddy issues but since Spy has actually been sticking around and helping with Scout's kids he doesnt have as much daddy issues, and thus while Engineer is still probably trying to dad this young and troubled merc, future Scout will not be accidentally calling Engineer Dad or anything. He appreciates having Engineer lend a hand but he doesn't need it. That being said I feel like Heavy and Engineer know a lot about grief and would be the two trying to offer a shoulder to lean on the most once Scout slips up about his kids.

Medic: He just wanted to experiment on people he doesnt know very well and keep them alive and once he gets to know them, improve their bodies like a well-oiled machine. Who the fuck is this kid spilling his whole tragic life story in his med bay. He probably still beefs with Scout because Scout is still stealing medpacks NOT because he thinks the 1hp missing is so important but out of sheer habit or doing that for years. So he's still stealing medpacks but now yelling "sorrryyyy" as Medic stands there on fire with 10 hp left. well at least Scout is terrified of Medics birds for some reason.

Sniper: Scout is like "youre my friend now Mick Mundy!" and Sniper gets scared off immediately. He came here to do his job, not to make friends, and pushing Sniper to become Scouts friend isnt gonna help, its gonna make things worse. He needs to thaw for a while. However Sniper has daddy issues and to hear about Scout being a dad will greatly help towards building their friendship much faster than original scout and sniper.

Spy. What would you even want me to say about Spy.

Scout: "Hi Spy :)" Spy: what the FUCK do you want shit head. Scout: Lets watch TV together or play catch or cook or something. Spy, afraid of Scout possibly knowing he's his dad, angry that Scout is a mercenary, confused and unnerved by Scout's friendliness: FUCK OFF FUCK OFF!!!!!! IM STABBING YOU GO BACK TO BOSTON Scout: Rude. anyway ill be back tomorrow :3 say hi to ma for me Spy: ???!!!! time passes. Spy: oh so he's just like that. and i cant scare him back home. fine I'll be grumpy yet tolerant. Scout: finally. hey buddy :) you make a great babysitter for my children Spy: WHAT Scout: oh sorry. i mean you WOULD make a great babysitter. for my kids who dont exist anymore. Spy: WHAT more time passes, spy tries to investigate about scouts kids but all he knows is that scouts grief is real and no one else seems to know about scouts kids who are gone Spy, in tears: ive failed as a father AND a grandfather. i never got to meet them. please tell me about your children. Scout, also in tears: Her name was Tanya and she wanted to be a princess spy

im going to be sick I just wanted to make a fix-it funny time travel and I cant stop thinking about Scout and how he has to wait years to see his kids again. I'm physically ill

au where after scout dies dec 14 1987 he just. wakes up on like the day after he joined the merc team during the gravel wars. and he has to constantly catch himself from being overly friendly with people like Sniper or Spy who havent opened up to him yet or catch himself from referencing things that havent happened yet and he's not very good at it but when your team is people like Medic and Pyro, the rest of them are like "ok so our Scout's weird. why do i care"

thoughts:

-Spy lowkey is nervous that Scout knows because why is Scout being so friendly with him

-Scout misses his kids and keeps freaking out about his kids and who takes care of them after he dies (Spy is a good babysitter but some part of him doesnt trust Spy to like. actually raise his kids because. well. you know. Also the comic writers confirmed Scouts Ma isnt dead in comic 7 she just wasnt there for Smissmas she has 6 other kids so maybe she can take care of them? or his brothers???) and every once in a while he's like "my children..... oughhhhh my children 🥺"

-so the rest of the team thinks he had like. kids really young (hes like 27 in comic 6 so) and they also mustve died really young at like 2 or something and thats why he's a merc is Tragic Past TM

-this also worries Spy because why didnt he hear about this. whats the point of spying and checking in on Scout is he didnt hear about this. he calls Scouts Ma and shes like "what the fuck are you talking about Jeremy doesnt have kids" so Spy is actually losing his mind over this because it doesnt seem like Scout is faking about missing his kids (Scout is obviously hiding. something though)

-Scout has also been through his character development of comic 7 so while he still kicks ass he's a lot less hotheaded and gets along with the mercs easier.

i dont know where im going with this but someone needs to write a fic about this i mean i COULD do it but when i start writing time travel fics they just. never end.

[sonknuxadow]

collection

[arsenicflame]

It's a time-honoured tradition- every time Sam comes across Izzy (and Ed) in their travels, he asks Izzy to marry him. And every time, Izzy turns him down.

At this point, Sam is asking more for the sake of it than any belief Izzy will ever say yes, a remnant of childhood dedication touched with 30 years of heartbreak and regret- though even now, a small part of him still holds out hope. Sam's promises have only got more extravagant over the years, from a job as his first mate, to a captaincy, a fleet at his command, a whole fucking island if that's what Izzy wants- but he knows it isn't though, not really. If Izzy was ever going to agree to marry him, to leave his life and go with Sam, it wouldn't be for anything Sam could offer him. Izzy never did care for flashy shows of wealth, for a ship or to be captain. The only thing that ever mattered to him was loyalty given, and loyalty shown in return. 

It all comes to a head after Stede left and came back, after Izzy lost a toe, lost his leg. Sam hasn't seen him since before things with Ed started to really slide off the rails, before stress permanently set into the lines of Izzy’s face. So, when he sees a dishevelled man with a hoof for a leg in a no-name port, he doesn't even consider the idea that he might know him. It's only when he turns towards him, and Sam catches a glance at those oh too familiar tattoos, he realises this is Izzy, his Izzy, that stands before him.

Knowing Izzy's discomfort with pity, he doesn't treat him any differently than he would in years gone by, positioning himself in Izzy's line of sight before approaching and sweeping him up into a bone crushing hug. 

“Israel-goddamn-Hands!” he exclaims, as Izzy grumbles back a begrudging “Samuel-fucking-Bellamy”, a tradition almost as old as their friendship itself. Izzy might not hug him back, but he can’t keep the corner of his mouth from twitching, just for a second.

(If Sam holds Izzy a little tighter and a little longer than usual, well. That's his business)

By the time Sam lets go, most of the crew has appeared in the town square, drawn in by the commotion. They may have given Izzy his leg and welcomed him as one of them, but still there’s an underlying tension, with nobody quite ready to set aside everything that happened before the Kraken. Seeing him cosying up to an unknown man sets everyone on edge, unsure whether to come to their first mate’s aid, or to assume that they've been betrayed once again.

When Ed sees that the yelling was Sam, his hand goes tense where it's held in Stede's. He knows the routine, has seen it more times than he can count, but as he watches them part he realises that this is the first time in a long time he's unsure of what Izzy's response will be.

Knowing that something’s different, knowing that Izzy's feeling vulnerable already, Sam doesn't go for the same flashy proposal he’s been giving for years. He doesn't promise Izzy the world, he doesn't cause a scene (or, any more of a scene than he already has, anyway). He looks at the fractured man in front of him, takes his face in his hands, and says the exact same thing to him he said when they were little more than boys. “Israel, I have to ask you. I know what you'll say, but I have to try. Come with me. Marry me and sail away with me. I'll keep you safe”

And Izzy… hesitates. He glances over at Ed, at Stede, and says to Sam “...We’re staying in port for a week. Ask me again then”

That's the moment Sam knows there is something deeply, horribly, wrong. He's not just looking at an Izzy who got seriously injured in a fight and is struggling to cope, this is something so much bigger than that- and that Ed has something to do with it. Izzy wouldn't even be considering leaving if he didn't. Whether it was negligence or something more sinister, Sam doesn't yet know, but he intends to find out.

[s0fter-sin]

i’d love to know how much of early day's spn subtext was deliberate or just a happy accident bc the subplot of 1x08 bugs is sam and dean butting heads about how they were raised and sam hating it while dean tells him he should accept it as they protect a family; predominantly a father and son

the father and son argue bc the son is different and not who the father wants him to be while the son feels ignored and shunned (aka sam). sam spends the episode empathising with him and telling him he can look forward to going to college to get away from him just like he did while dean cuts in to say he should stick with his family

the entire episode, dean defends john and the way he raised them ("maybe he needed to raise his voice but sometimes you were out of line"), it even starts with him and sam arguing over their illegal ways of making money and how they were brought up in the life; dean adapting to and enjoying it and sam wanting to be honest and straight

they talk about sam being sure john is and always has been disappointed in him just for dean to say john used to go to stanford whenever he could to check on him and something about his expression is so bitter; like he knows john would never express that care for him

but at the climax when they're trying to get matt to convince his dad to leave, sam is the one telling him to tell the truth and make his dad listen whereas dean tells him to lie; implying he wouldn't trust his son enough to believe him

he outright scoffs at sam and asks him what he was thinking for trying to get matt to tell the truth

the entire episode, dean is advocating for the kid to work it out (almost to just take it) and stay with his family but when push comes to shove, he tells him to lie

sam who spent years resenting john and his family for how they were raised, fell back on "making him listen"; echoing all the arguments he had with john, trying to force him to understand who he is while john's too blinded by vengeance to even begin to try. the same way sam refuses to see how they were raised and why they were raised that way from john’s point of view, hinting at how similar people they are (which still isn’t an excuse but also not the point rn)

dean winchester, the king of repression and masking (and fawning), dean who at this point is still staunchly defending john, tells a shunned kid with a harsh father to pretend in order for his father to care enough to listen to him and believe him

dean knows reasoning won't work bc he's watched it happen over and over again with sam and john

even the way matt tries to say, “but he’s my… (father)” feels like he’s coming over to dean’s point of view; that matt as a son respects his father to enough to tell the truth and no matter how much they’ve fought, that should trump everything. but dean still insists he lies. and matt tells the truth. and his father doesn’t listen

there's no way they intentionally made dean subconsciously know that a man raising his son in a mimicry of how john raised them wouldn't respect or trust his son enough to believe him about something potentially life threatening after half a season of john ignoring them about something potentially life threatening

right?

[sweetestflow3rs]

tw for me rambling, also body horror & death

i like to think about what if noel didn’t ‘run away’ and decided to stay and keep going as riley… i think that’s probably one of two of noel’s worst timelines LAUGHSS

like not worse for noel mind you. she thinks she’s thriving ( delusional ). just worse for the pc on how stress & trauma-inducing it is.

the idea of an li / npc who seems so confident and sweet, the exact standards you’d expect a school’s star athlete to be: kind, helpful, warm. though, a bit untouchable because she always seems so busy with track practice and tutoring students, AND working part time as a front desk staffer at the hospital.

the only method of bonding with riley more being the tutoring, only being able to join the program if the pc has high grades. which, bc it’s DOL of course, the very first student to tutor leads to a combat encounter that the pc can choose to tell riley or not. which if they do, riley acts accordingly by calling out the student in front of everyone before throwing them out ( surprising strength for a girl that short )

and then everything after that…. is ENTIRELY dependent on if the pc has high awareness & if they visit the school at night.

which to not irritate people on the length of my rambles, putting it below here:

visiting the school at night, entering the library: the pc runs into the same student that harassed from the tutoring program there, sitting at one of the tables. it makes the pc antsy at first, but then the student speaks, saying they are only here to catch up on studying. since the pc DID get them kicked out for snitching.

a low awareness pc seeing the student not doing anything else. they notice a shadow of a coat over their seat but think nothing else of it and leave.

BUT A HIGH AWARENESS PC… sees something else that makes them freeze in their spot. through the faint shadows and lighting of the moon, they can see… fingers…. opening & closing the mouth. like a sock puppet. the shadow behind the student looking more another person that the PC SWEAR you can see peering at you in the crouched position.

your silence is deafening.

a loud, squelching sound of the hand removing itself from an opening of the student’s head that soon falls to the floor to reveal the crouched figure being riley herself. and of course, she’s not happy, she WAS banking on the pc not noticing. in fact, she’s wondering what the pc is even doing in the school this late at night!!!

the pc having the option to either help riley, or run. and like… turning to you all, the audience, we ALL know how riley is the star athlete, especially the track team. trying to outrun her is impossible, it’s a literal game over ( death ) for the pc.

BUT choosing to help riley get rid of the body and evidence will finally unlock riley as a love interest. her special stat being well, her hysteria. the pc now having the new option of reporting harassers to riley, who will HAPPILY get rid of them for the pc, at the cost of her hysteria rising. but the reward of combat encounters becoming fewer.

you may ask: hysteria regarding what?

well, the corruption of this town SILLY! riley who is becoming more wrapped up in her delusion that everything in this town is corrupt and awful ( she’s right about that ) and the only way to solve it is to get rid of everyone ( slow your horses ) (( and yes, even other fellow orphans. even the ‘good’ people in this town )) and that she and the pc is the only righteous thing in this town. riley at max hysteria taking too many victims to her list. the slightest fault someone makes in front of her could make them a target. ( god forbid someone says a lewd comment about someone’s body in front of her )

though, be careful of having her love too low when hysteria is high. being TOO submissive in combat encounters and taking enjoyment of the abuse the town dishes out can lower it! because then she’ll think the pc is now corrupt and ruined. and she might do something about that!! ( she’s going to kill the pc, she can’t trust them anymore. game over )

and raising her lust seems almost impossible. helping her crimes only raises it by 1-2%. but if the pc ever decided to take charge in the crime, if they have the sadist trait, it grants a 10% boost of lust from riley.

and why not add another level of fun freak by having that riley almost seemingly prefers to only engage in sex with the pc IMMEDIATELY after they just commit a murder? like what’s not hotter than just killing someone you hate in the most brutal fashion imaginable, to then fuck in front of their corpse ( or almost corpse, they might still be bleeding out ), covered in blood??? like thats amor to riley

[telesodalite]

Been thinking about idw1's outliers lately, and how sort of wild the whole concept is from a worldbuilding standpoint, and it struck me that most confirmed outlier abilities tend to be really useful, or flashy, or powerfully dangerous, and few to none tend to be like, really boring, or totally impractical, or even entirely useless? Which, doesn't really make sense when considering the fact that outlier abilities are seemingly random.

Surely not everyone who's born an outlier gets something useful?

And I don't mean like, "good" useful, but any sort of useful, even if that means you can kill people with your voice, or give a power boost by exploding yourself, those are still "useful".

But surely there had to be some with abilities that were totally impractical, or nonbeneficial, or at the very least just insignificant or purely aesthetic and pointless?

[eden-transcendental-youth]

performance review today eek

[britneyshakespeare]

you: nicholas alexander chavez, the actor from ryan murphy's recent work

me, a mama's girl and daytime tv viewer:

[youngpettyqueen]

hellooooooo I would love to hear about your julian/jadzia sandbox! I haven't given them a lot of thought as a real pairing and I'm so curious about your ideas!

hello good morning thank you for being patient! welcome to my Julian/Jadzia sandbox

putting under a cut cause it got. long

with them im a very casual shipper of it, I dont really seek out content of them and I kinda just have my own thoughts on them as a pairing. I would read fic of them if it caught my attention, but as is im pretty content in my own little world of them. I think they could've been really cute! but also like, again, thank god they didnt go that route in canon, I would not have trusted the writers with them

if im thinking of Julian/Jadzia as a couple then im inclined towards the storyline of that being one where youre in for the long haul. its a slowburn, and most importantly, its of the friends to lovers variety. the way it plays out in my head is you spend a lot of time building up and really developing that friendship, and yes Julian is still crushing on her and pursuing her, but after a little while that fades out and becomes less of a crush and more of just a running bit between them as they get closer as friends. and then, after a while, you start bringing in the hints that this could be something different than friendship. little moments, little scenes, the realization that Julian's crush hasn't gone away and he is now quite hopelessly in love with her, and Jadzia, having to gotten to know him and get so close with him, is also quite in love with him

ive seen different takes that Julian and Jadzia have no chemistry and I think thats simply not true. there's a lot of chemistry between them, but its not the immediate sparks flying type of chemistry you get with, say, Julian and Garak in their first meeting. and I think because of that, people tend to write them off, when really all it would've taken was some development and exploration of their relationship. if there had been less of a focus on Julian chasing after Jadzia, and more of a focus on them getting closer, I think the romantic chemistry would've been off the charts

its Julian's chasing after Jadzia the way he does, especially in the early seasons, that gets in the way of what could've been. and dont get me wrong, I wouldnt take that element out entirely, but I wouldnt have had it go on as long as it did. Julian chasing after Jadzia the way he does makes it impossible for her to take him seriously as a potential romantic partner, so if you have them get over that hurdle and have Julian back off and allow them to develop a close friendship, it opens Jadzia up to the idea of him as a romantic partner. I also think it would make for a deeper and more real friendship, where Julian gets to know Jadzia as a person and not just as a concept, and where Jadzia gets to see Julian from a better perspective

I would also just. put in writing more how Jadzia actually feels about her relationship with Julian. what we get onscreen is pretty one-sided and focuses almost entirely on how Julian feels, with only occasional mentions of how Jadzia feels. some of the novels go into it a bit more, especially Revenant, but alas those are beta canon. Jadzia does like Julian, and she cares about him, but we very rarely get to know her thoughts on him outside of being both endeared and annoyed by his constant pursuit of her. she likes the chase and the attention, even if it sometimes annoys her, and I think it'd be interesting to explore how she feels when that chase is gone. I think it'd be fun to explore the day she realizes she misses it

with Julian, what really fascinates me about his feelings for Jadzia is that even from earlier on, he's clearly a lot more serious about her than I think anybody else realizes. Julian is vulnerable with Jadzia in a way that he isnt with anybody else. for a character who tends to be very private about his vulnerabilities, thats a pretty big deal. where Julian's other moments of openness and vulnerability come from a place of being forced to- see Doctor Bashir, I Presume? when he has that talk with Miles- his vulnerability with Jadzia is typically initiated by himself. he gives her his diaries from medical school, which. I have a lot of feelings about. because even if you remove the context that he probably talks about being augmented in those, since at the time of that episode airing the decision hadn't been made yet to have Julian be augmented, its still a very vulnerable thing to do, because as Jadzia says his diaries contain his fears, insecurities, hopes, dreams, etc. I also think often of when Julian loses that award, and admits to Jadzia that he isnt handling it well. he didnt have to admit to that, but he did. thats a a small moment, but it speaks volumes to his willingness to be open around her, and to me that indicates that even from early on he was very serious about his feelings for her

I think this should've been a big thing in their dynamic. Jadzia realizing that Julian is so open with her when he isnt with others, not even Miles. I think in turn she would've allowed herself some of that same vulnerability and openness. in fact, I think Julian's interest in Jadzia might've helped this. a big complaint I have with a lot of episodes about Jadzia is that they aren't about her, theyre about Dax, or Curzon. a lot of people are more interested in Dax than they are Jadzia, a lot of relationships she has are the relationships Curzon had. Julian, however, is all about Jadzia. he wants to get to know HER, not just the symbiont, not just the legacy of her past lives. I think, seeing that, Jadzia would've reciprocated the vulnerable side he shows her, and been more open with him than she is with others when it comes to herself

this is getting long and rambly but yeah to sum up. they could've had a very good slowburn friends to lovers arc. all they would've had to do was overcome their original perceptions of the other- Julian would need to look past his infatuation, and see Jadzia as a whole person and not just an idea, while Jadzia would need to look past Julian's naivety and see the complex individual- in order to develop a really deep and poignant friendship that could later become a romantic relationship. and the writers kind of do this, in having Julian back off for a bit and focus elsewhere and take the time to develop a pretty solid friendship with the two of them, but they ultimately end up leaning back into Julian's unrequited feelings for her, which could've been interesting imo, but they really only do it to go "she died before he could ever get with her :( so sad :(" which. ive done that rant already so I won't do it again

there is genuine potential within canon for them to have a solid romantic relationship. if they had focused more on Jadzia's feelings and thoughts, rather than on Julian's hopeless pursuit of her, I think they could've honestly pulled it off. there was some solid groundwork for them, but it ultimately doesnt take off. and im fine with that, truly fine with that, because I genuinely do not believe the writers would've done them justice. as is, I like to enjoy my own thoughts and scenarios, and it was fun to write a bunch out. this isnt particularly organized, but I hope you enjoy it, anyways

[bmpmp3]

fish......

[beegswaz]

ON DA FUCKINT GRIND 💪💪💪💪💪💪🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

[californiaquail]

well boss said reese has no indication of any uti or crystals only a tiny amount of red blood cells which can be caused by the manual expression. coworker insisted there was no point in taking rads to see if he's blocked from the string so going to try some laxaire and hope 😬🤞🏻also then my boss gave me a ride to the bus stop so i didn't have to carry the huge crate which was uncharacteristically nice of him 🤨