#this man in the most respectful way can get it
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(Lavender Marriage au: Poly 141 x married reader where they don’t know you and your gay bestfriend married just for the Benefits and they see your husband/bestfriend “cheating” on you)
Your parents are traditional and are pressing you for marriage. Your bestfriend, on the other hand, is gay and in a secret relationship and the heir of a successful family business, but his parents are homophobic.
In hindsight, it’s extremely easy for the both of you to decide to get married and move far away, buying a nice plot of land and a big enough house to have rooms for you, for your husband and his boyfriend, and for you and your husband for whenever the parents decide to visit.
Honestly, the townspeople suck; you don’t trust any of them not to snitch or to not be spies, so unfortunately you keep yourself happy with toys you order with your happy bestfriend’s money and flash that ring on your finger often enough no one ever questions your husband’s many, many trips.
You don’t mind much; a big, comfy house where you have everything you could want, no worried, far away from your parents. All you have to do is keep up the pretense of being a dutiful, happy wife, and everything will be well.
Until the abandoned house next to yours is bought by four of the most handsome military men you think you’ve ever seen. You don’t know they’ve bought it and are renovating it themselves until Kyle comes over to ask for a few glasses of water-
“Sorry to bother you, Ma’am. We’ve just begun renovations and the plumbing’s not fixed it.”
It takes every ounce of your self-control not to call him handsome while you fetch him some icy cold water.
The other men are just as handsome too- calling you Ma’am, bonnie, sweetheart in those sexy british and scottish accents. Too bad, they are very respectful. For once, that ring on your finger is getting in your way.
So unfortunately, you resign yourself to waving to them whenever you see them, and spying on them from your porch, lemonade in hand and ogling those handy muscles glistening from sweat and working hard.
(They like you, too. So much. You look fucking gorgeous to them, all pretty sundresses and delicate jewelry and so sweetly fussing over them while they work, bringing them cookies and sandwiches and drinks and your pretty eyes just glancing at them through your lashes. You make the renovations so much harder because they have to take breaks.
But you are taken, the ring a proof of that, and you seem quite content with your life. They meet your husband too and for all that they wish he wasn’t there, they can see that you two are happy.
Until they see your husband kissing another man. In your home. Cheating on you.
And suddenly, they know they have a chance.)
#this was so rushed i had to write it the second i got the idea for it#noona.writes#cod x reader#cod#cod x you#tf 141 x reader#tf 141#tf 141 x you#cod imagines#john price x reader#poly!141 x reader#poly 141 x reader#poly 141#simon ghost x you#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#johnny soap mctavish x reader#soap x reader#gaz x reader#kyle gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#poly!141#ghost x you#simon ghost riley imagines#soap x you#kyle gaz x you#gaz x you#john price x you#kyle gaz garrick x you
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I think the one I see this most strongly with is Pamela; Or, Virtue Rewarded by Samuel Richardson.
It's hard to read in the modern day. Pamela is a servant girl who spends a lot of time trying not to be raped by her employer, who eventually kidnaps her, and the only other woman in a position to aid her actively helps the attempted rapist to assault her in various ways. At one point she holds Pamela down in bed so it can happen (apparently the woman is this awful because she's an atheist). At another time the employer actively says that he would've continued and actually raped her if she kept fighting him, it was only because Pamela fainted that he stopped the attempt. She woke up from that attempt with her stays (underwear) cut up.
Pamela ends up marrying this man, after realising she has fallen in love with him, who is then 'reformed' by her 'goodness.'
It's meant to be a happy and uplifting tale. Obviously, to us, it's more of a horror story.
We see the victim blame in 'if you'd kept fighting you would've been raped' and also know that being unconscious actually makes you more at risk, and understand that a woman who eventually gave in to her master's advances is not any less 'good' for fearing being violently raped (or worse) if she continued protesting. We are less likely to believe people can be so entirely reformed by the 'virtue' of others, and see a man who would take advantage of power dynamics like that as bad even if he wasn't so aggressive in his advances. There are no real consequences for his crimes and continued harassment of a FIFTEEN YEAR OLD in his employ and who had zero protection or options. It's just all round horrid to our modern eyes.
But in many ways it was actually progressive for the time.
Pamela is a servant who ends the book married (not mistress to) a gentleman with an estate and eventually being accepted and adored by the land owning class. This is a rise of a magnitude far higher than Elizabeth marrying Mr Darcy, Jane Eyre and Mr Rochester, or even Cinderella as she was highborn, and was really making the case that servant women could and do have as much inherent worth as gentlewomen by birth. For how classist 1740 England was, that's a controversial take.
And though it's considered a backwards view now, this was the first novel/work which was really reaching out to lower-class women and saying 'your virtue is worth as much as upper-class women.' I dislike the whole concept of sexual virtue and disagree that Pamela's virtue would be lost through rape, but the point remains that this book was making a case for greater equality between classes in a time where the ruling class relied on being considered naturally better by birth and chosen by god to rule. The novel was criticised for exactly this.
Not only that, but by promoting virginity, he was also championing a woman's right to say no. Pamela's ability and decision to refuse is upheld both positively and as what should have been the final word. The male main character only becomes a 'good' person once he truly understands and respects that. An idea only becomes outdated once the societal framework supporting the status quo has changed, and Samuel Richardson was writing in a time where a servant girl (or any woman really, for instance marital rape wouldn't become a crime for another 250 years) who refused her master's advances would have little recourse or sympathy if he didn't respect that no. This novel was telling all those girls your sexual autonomy is worth fighting for... you're worth fighting for.
And, though we see that Pamela's abuser essentially gets what he wanted and gets off scot-free (an illness and a change of heart isn't going to fly with a judge, you douche), it was revolutionary for the time in that it's told from the victim's perspective as a horrible series of events. These acts, many of which were common place and not illegal (some even actively considered romantic) at the time, was a criticism of many masculine behaviours and championed the woman's/victim's perspective. It drew attention to what we now consider domestic violence and abuse of power. Though we might argue about his methods (a minority of contemporary readers viewed the novel as salacious because of the inclusion of the assault scenes) the author's intent was to actively give moral instruction into proper domestic behaviour. Which, aside from 'sexually assaulting your employees is bad' does also include less radical and actively harmful views such as 'be loyal and loving to your employers no matter what.' Historical novels are a mixed bag like that, but he was still advocating for mutual social contracts towards each other, and rejecting the idea that the rich men who ruled the world could do whatever they wanted. He was speaking for the powerless against those in power.
I'll probably never read the book again, it was too uncomfortable for me, but without an understanding of the time it was written it would feel like gratuitous assault and a glorification of abusive relationships, when really, it was the exact opposite. We're just lucky enough to live in a society where many of his arguments have been accepted both socially and legally for so long that it's hard to imagine a case ever needed to be made in their favour.
tbh nothing frustrates me more then when people brush off classics like pride and prejudice or jane eyre because they don’t fit into today’s modern standards of feminism and social justice etc.
remember that these novels were published in the 19th century. and that some of the things that were written in these books may seem trivial to us today but would have absolutely fucking shook readers in the victorian era
like,,,,,elizabeth rejecting mr collins because she doesn’t love him even though it would have been considered her duty in her family to marry him? or jane eyre not agreeing to marry mr rochester unless it was on her own terms? hell even anne brontë wrote a lesser known novel about a wife leaving her abusive husband with her five year old son to live a better life?? do y’all realize how unheard of that would be in the 1800′s?? where women were considered more of a commodity than actual human beings??
even though they might not be up to todays standards of modern feminism and romance, they were still HUGE building blocks for equality for that time period. so if you’re a reader who says to themselves ‘I read classics with modern standards applied and I can’t get past that��� then you are most likely going to be disappointed when reading classics and not fully understand their significance to that time period
#discourse#jane austen#samuel richardson#anne bronte#charlotte bronte#pride and prejudice#pamela#the tenant of wildfell hall#jane eyre
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Hazbin Hotel - Morning Routines
Kind of a part 2 to the Sleeping Habits Post??? While that one is about falling asleep with them, this one is about what its like to wake up with them. Same lineup; Alastor, Vox, and Lucifer. I... also might have accidentally started a Charlie one so I might be doing more parts to these (。ŏ_ŏ)
Contents/WARNINGS: Gender neutral reader; NSFW in Vox's section; mostly just nuclear powered fluff; somebody PLEASE get Lucifer a doctor the man is so depressed (18+), MDNI, NSFW below the cut ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
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Alastor ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧
As gone over in my sleeping habits post, Alastor does not like sharing a bed normally. But if it does happen to be a blue moon and he actually stayed the whole night; it is a sight to behold in the morning.
Alastor's hair is naturally curly. Due to internalized racism (from you know, the 1920s), Alastor insists his hair must be straight and has a crazy hair routine to keep it that way. One of many reasons why his hair is so... gnarly looking.
Right after he wakes up in the mornings though, his bedhead breaks through the illusion. You get to see the glorious sight of Alastor's hair attempting to go back to its natural form. The edges of his locks are making small loops in all directions, and his face is framed in loose ringlets.
Unfortunately, this only lasts for about ten minutes at most before he goes to "fix" it.
Other then getting to see that beautiful sight, the mornings are the same regardless of if he stayed in the bed with you or not; You always get to wake up to his wonderful cooking.
Alastor has unfortunately had to take it upon himself to be the hotel chef. Charlie did try to do it for a little bit, but that resulted in more fires and ambiguous remains then anything. Vaggie and Husk can barely operate a microwave. Nifty is well... Nifty.
So Alastor pops into the hotel kitchen at around 7am to start cooking breakfast for the hotel. More 7:30 if his hair has been particularly unruly that day.
Alastor pokes fun at everyone over being their chef, but he really likes it actually. He will never admit that to anyone though. He finds the mornings relaxing because he gets to just cook, something that he enjoys and thats deeply nostalgic for him. It starts him off on the right foot for the day.
The only times it starts him on the wrong foot, is when Lucifer decides to get up at an ungodly hour (or straight up pull an all nighter), just so he can steal the kitchen and make the hotel breakfast instead.
Lucifer does this because he thinks he is a better chef then Alastor. Surely, Alastor's annoyance is proof of that! But Alastor is actually pissed off because his plans for the morning got set on fire by Lucifer's dumb ego.
Alastor really does go above and beyond as the chef by the way. For a cannibal, you would never expect how respectful he is of everyone's dietary preferences. If your a vegetarian, or even a vegan, Alastor won't blow you off. He will make something for everyone that still works for you, or just make you something special. He sees it less as you having a dietary restriction and more as a challenge of his skills.
Anyways, thanks to Alastor, mornings at the hotel are always extremely nice. Everyone comes down to eat together, hang out, and just be. Its a tranquil time and atmosphere that he has taken great care to cultivate. Sets him up perfectly mentally for his afternoon radio shows.
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Vox ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧
Vox always wakes up with a big sigh. He is very much that type of person whose first thought when waking up is, 'goddamn it, I woke up'. Hates leaving the bed but knows he has to.
At least Vox stops having those thoughts when you become apart of his life.
If your still in the bed when he wakes up, Vox is immediately comforted by your weight on his chest. He cant help but smile as his arms tighten around you. One of Vox's hands starts absentmindedly carding through your hair as he goes over everything he has to do that day in his head.
If your not in the bed when Vox wakes up, it completely fucks with his mind. His sleeping body does not register you moving or getting up at all. So from Vox's perspective, you were in his arms one second then... not. Vox will wake up to you not there and be super confused. He will legit start looking for you like a puppy.
Depending on your relationship status with him, Vox might even just assume that he dreamt/hallucinated the whole encounter with you. Only realizing that it actually happened upon outside evidence.
Operating on the assumption that you two are a thing; Vox now tries to keep his mornings flexible because of you. They used to be very regimented. Vox would wake up, get dressed, grab a coffee, then be right out the door to head to work. But now that your here, the mornings are much more relaxed.
When you first move in, Vox's first order of business is to hire a personal chef. Don't get me wrong, Vox loves it when you cook for him. The guy absolutely melts when you do. But the reality is he loves it a little... too much. Which often results in no breakfast actually being had because Vox ends up dragging you back to the bedroom. Of course, that's if he doesn't end up fucking you right on the counter or kitchen table.
Look. Seeing you by the stove in an apron just does something to him, alright?
If you ever even asked Vox if he knew how to cook, the guy would probably bluescreen. The only thing he knows how to ""cook"" is 'takeout'. (image included) If he tried to boil an egg, he would burn the water.
So yeah. Vox takes initiative to get you two a chef. He doesn't want you to have to cook for him anyway; he wants it to be an act of love rather then an obligation. If you push Vox and say you want to cook for him, he will making heart eyes and be ready to marry you on the spot.
Seriously. Make him cute, homemade lunches for work. Vox will brag about them to everyone. Put adorable love notes in there and everything. The guy will be on his knees.
Regardless of who actually made the breakfast, Vox always has it with you. He may be a busy man, but he makes sure this is a time you get him exclusively. Vox lets you know of his schedule for the day (assuming Valentino doesnt set it on fire ofc) and when he plans on being home.
When Vox leaves for work he actually has a genuine smile on his face. Don't get me wrong, he still hates it and cant wait to get back home to you. But Vox doesn't feel that same crushing dread that he did before.
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Lucifer ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧
It used to be so hard to get up for him. It wasn't uncommon for Lucifer to just wallow in bed for an entire day. But now that your here, everything has changed. Lucifer actually has a reason to get up in the mornings again. He used to just go back to sleep and pretend the world doesn't exist.
He is a morningbird by nature, so he often wakes up before you. However, Lucifer hates leaving your arms and the cozy bed. So one of two things happens depending on how he is feeling.
If Lucifer is feeling good, or just particularly lovey that morning; he will pull you extra close to him and start kissing all over you. You'll wake up to the wonderful feeling of fleeting kisses and his smile on your skin. No better way to start the day.
As soon as he notices your awake, Lucifer moves to place quick, chaste kisses all over your face. All while asking, "How are you feeling, Ducky?", "Did you sleep okay?", "Have any fun dreams?".
Lucifer looks at you with the most adoring look in his eyes, desperate to snuggle and feel your skin on his. He wants to listen to you talk about anything and everything.
After awhile of cuddling and pillow talk, you have to be the one to convince Lucifer to get up. He will playfully whine and try to keep you in the bed, but he won't keep it up for long. Lucifer also cant wait to make you a wonderful breakfast and talk more while he cooks too~
Lucifer is a chatterbox when he wants to be. Especially with someone he loves. He basically wants to imbibe your entire being; that includes getting to know every random thought you have and every dark corner of your mind.
But if Lucifer feels the weight of depression weighing him down that morning, he simply snuggles deeper into you when he wakes. His grip on you tightens, and he pulls the sheets tighter around you two. Like he is building a cocoon or trying to shield you both from the outside.
Sometimes you can tell as soon as he wakes up that he is in a bad state. Instead of kisses, you are woken up by the trembling of his small form. Shaking with unshed tears and fresh pain from old wounds.
Lucifer clings to you desperately; the grip of his claws threatening to break your skin. You have to physically force him away from you just so you can look him in the eyes. Even then, Lucifer whimpers and tries to hug you tighter in protest.
He will begin to plead with you. Saying things like "Don't leave me" or "Please stay". You kiss him gently and bring him into your chest as he finally begins to sob. You two stay there for a long time. Lucifer is extra clingy that day. Attached to you at the hip and always holding your hand in his. His heart rate picks up and he starts to get frantic if your fingers slip out of his.
Mornings with Lucifer are overall just very slow. Meandering. Lucifer's safe place has become the bed since the heights of his depression, so he is reluctant to leave it. Some dark part of him feels that the longer he can keep you in bed, the longer he wont have to say an inevitable 'goodbye'.
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FURTHER READING ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧
Its a super silly idea, but I love >>THIS POST<< by @antiheroalastor where you find out Alastor has a extensive skincare routine.
Cute imagine by @voxisdaddy where Vox has to cuddle you to fall asleep can be found >>HERE<<
Then something more spicy, >>HERE<< are some ADORABLE Lucifer aftercare headcanons by @redr0sewrites. Rose writes the rambling, dorky, disaster Lucifer that I have envisioned in my head PERFECTLY.
#I got fucking poetic in lucifers section whoops#me summoning my fear of abandomnent#lucifer is becoming the embodiment of my personal mental illness#hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#vox x reader#lucifer x reader#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer morningstar#lucifer morningstar fluff#alastor hazbin hotel#vox hazbin hotel#lucifer hazbin hotel#alastor hazbin hotel fluff#vox hazbin hotel fluff#lucifer hazbin hotel fluff#hazbin alastor x reader#hazbin vox x reader#hazbin lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin hotel alastor fluff#hazbin hotel lucifer fluff#hazbin hotel vox fluff#hazbin hotel vox x reader#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel alastor x reader
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I know I've had comments about readers being emotionally invested in my awkward flirtation with Museum Date (the Excelsexual) but we probably won't get to meet for at least a few weeks -- they have an uneven schedule and so do I. And in fairness some people want to chat for a while first and many dudes are so fucking pushy that a lot of people aren't comfortable saying that to a man directly. So possibly the scheduling thing is a ruse to extend the length of time we chat first but I don't mind, I'm not in a rush for a relationship and if I was that desperate for sex I can handle it fine myself.
People be horny, you guys. I thought I had a pretty average sex drive but goddamn, some of the profiles I've seen. Mind you, having spent my entire adult life writing porny fanfic, I'm uniquely suited to provide if I feel like it. If text only sex was more popular I could retire on an OnlyFans income. (I mean, if you are earning big via chat sex, I'm interested in your thoughts. I'm still paying off the new HVAC.)
In any case, Breakfast Date is a little later this morning and should be fun, they're poly so the vibe is laid back, they're interesting to talk to, and also I've spent enough time adjacent to the kink community to have spotted some big green flags. Some of this is a little new to me and in any case it's been a while so it feels like a good way to ease in.
Oddly it feels a little strange to talk about it here, even though I talk about most of my life here. Maybe because it's a new-ish facet, maybe because dating isn't the same kind of photo-friendly, emotionally neutral content as work and touristing and such generally are. Regardless, I'll probably talk about it when it's interesting but also, out of respect to the other people involved, and really you guys as well, that'll stop at the bedroom door.
In any case there's a breakfast burrito and the possibility of meeting my date's dog in my immediate future, so the weekend is starting out well.
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Thoughts and theories in regards to my favorite senior necromancer
This man swept me of my feet so completely that I am still reeling. He is my new Solavellan and the amount of feels I have about him, its ungodly.
So I present to you my way to long essay about why Emmrich is the saddest and greatest man Bioware ever created, right next to Solas.
Please be aware of spoilers if you have not completed the game yet.
Also, shutout to @jaal-ama-daravv - you were looking for others peoples thoughts and theories. Also, thank you for all your posts and love for Emmrich.
(Edit for typos)
Their whole romance starts with dear Rook trying to flirt with him. And Rook being Rook their flirts are… questionable. I image Rook always doing a facepalm “Oh god, what did I just say?” afterwards. They… are not really that good at flirting. Half the time he doesn’t even seem to get that Rook was flirty with him.
But, oh, he did get it. He just couldn’t really comprehend it. This pretty, young and exciting person, flirting with him?!? Rook can be anything up to their mid-40s according to canon. That is not that much younger than him. But to him, they do SEEM young. Despite them being somewhat younger than Emmrich, I do think though, in quite a few ways, they are more experienced and knowledgeable than him. Emmrich led a pretty sheltered life. His childhood seems to be a happy one, despite them being poor. The loss of his parents had a huge impact on his life. To a degree where it still impacts him in a major way, even now, a lifetime later. But outside of that, I don’t think there was much strife or adventure in his life.
He is a quiet man who loves his books, and his time and work in the necropolis. He rarely even left the Necropolis. He never saw much of the world outside of it. But he always wanted to. Always dreamed of some kind of adventure. I think this is one of the reasons he so readily agreed to help Rook. A chance for adventure (and to help the world).
So here he finds himself in the company of a vibrant adventurous Rook who has seen and experienced so much. I think no matter their age difference, they would seem younger, “fresh faced” and vibrant to him. They are so full of life compared to him, who has not done that much living in recent years. They are less stuck in their ways, are out in the world and not sequestered in a life of routine.
In some ways he seems to be older than he is. That man is in his 50s. That is NOT old. But he seems to have lacked the courage to take life by its horns and just ride it. He is cautious, a coward in many ways. But somehow this dear Rook seems to bring out a different side of him. An almost forgotten yearning for more.
So, Rook awkwardly flirts with him. Bumbles and stumbles over words to flatter him. And he is exhilarated, touched and most of all confused. Why would this beautiful, vibrant person be interested in HIM of all people. There are other people around who should be so much more interesting to them than him. And how could he not be interested in them himself? They are, in a way, what he wants to be. Adventurous. Full of life. Indomitable. No matter what life throws at them, they refuse to yield. They have a courage the lacks, or thinks he lacks.
But that man is so much braver than he thinks. The fact that he is so open with Rook about his thanatophobia, even with a Rook that is not romantically interested in him is so touching. He tells them his most inner fears and all he wishes for it in return is some respect and kindness.
So, after some light and awkward flirting he tells them. If they DO mean it, he is interested. Emmrich is a deeply romantic man. In the dept of his heart he does not want a short-term affair. He wants someone to spend his life with. He wants something real. He wants everything. It’s what he always wanted, but never found and had completely given up upon. So he opens up a bit more.
But around that time, he also realizes that he absolutely has to tell them about his plans for lichdom. He tells the Rook on the friendship path why he hopes for their help in regard of Johanna. He explains why it is so important to him to find and stop Johanna.
Same goes for Rook on the romance path. But here comes the other side of the coin. Lichdom puts a possible halt on their fledging romance. He cannot know if Rook would be willing to continue what they’ve barely started.
They may either continue under the understanding that they have just temporary affair. What he never wanted. He always wanted that eternal flame – but by the Maker he wants to be with them, even if it is just a short time. He is still all feely at this point and the whole scope of his emotions have not yet hit him.
Or even, can he dare to dream, beyond that point of no return and stay with him after he becomes a Lich.
But he must put it out there. He cannot go further into their romance pretending his plans do not exist. He thinks Rook has a right to know what they are getting in to, and he is correct (and much respected) for that.
At the end, Rook commits to being with him with the full knowledge that Lichdom will come, sooner or later. If they stay with him from that point on is still undecided, but for now they are his. And how can he say no to that. He certainly did not expect this. I believe he fully expected this to be their end. But his confession ended truly in a night of unexpected splendor.
So, we know he always wanted “enduring affection”, love and commitment. And he had his fair share of lovers, paramours and affairs. I would think that he is someone who, when he does fall in love, loves so deeply and completely that it often scared his lovers away.
Not necessarily in an unhealthy way, but he is, underneath all that poise and manners, a deeply romantic man with strong emotions. I don’t think that Rook is special b/c he loves them more than he could love someone else, but b/c they not only accept all his love, more so, they welcome and return it in equal measure. They accept him and want him, even with all the baggage he comes with.
I think he was burned quite a few times in the past. So, he is trying to hold back, “be normal about it”. It’s just hard when this person he loves so much looks at him like he is their moon and stars and flame eternal. It’s hard when he feels finally and completely seen. He told them about his deepest fears, his plans about lichdom, and they are still here, willing to be on his side all the way. And while they seem to act like teenagers being all over each other, all want and need and stolen kisses, I think what they feel goes way deeper from the start.
At the same time, I also think that is partly at fault for not being able to find a lasting relationship. He had people in his live who did not want to fully commit to him. But I also think, the he never truly committed to anyone. He did, surely, on a more surface level. But a part of him always stayed closed off. He never gave himself completely. His fears made sure of that. What happens with Rook, the wonderful, oh so romantic start of their relationship? Only to end in this uncomfortable limbo because he lacks “the guts to say how he feels”? I think that was not the first time a relationship ended sour this way for him.
Take the amount of his feelings, add to that his thanatophobia, and that poor man becomes more and more a complete mess. What starts out as exciting and new and OMG THEY LIKE ME, becomes soon a new target for his fears. All those feelings inside him warring with each other. He wants to pin them against a wall and declare his undying love and run and hide at the same time.
Then comes Manfreds sacrifice and his big decision. Will he restore Manfred? Will he give up his friend to achieve his dreams?
Since I went with Manfred, I will mainly describe my feelings regarding mortal Emmrich. Though I believe Lich Emmrich suffers from the same base fears, they just find a different target.
Tbh, what Lace says to him certainly would not have helped. Her words feed into his doubts and fears and give them credibility. See, even Lace says this might not be right. Rook is younger. They move too fast. He will die earlier. Rook will be devastated. A whirlwind of emotions and half formed thoughts fueled by fear.
All he ever sees and what is constantly on his mind is not the time they can spend together, but the end of their time together. His death, their death, it does not matter. One of them will be gone and the other will be left with the pain he felt after his parents died. A pain that might even be worse than what he felt back then.
Rook being younger just becomes the vehicle by which he tries to convince himself that this might not be such a good idea after all. But its all his fears speaking.
And fear can be so strong, so overwhelming.
When they had this fight, my read on his words was that he wanted to break up with Rook. His words at that moment are condescending, bordering on mean. He is lashing out. We know he can be vindictive when he feels wronged, but he is nothing but kind and gentle to those he likes and who treat him with respect. I think, in a way, that it was not necessarily a conscious decision, but more of an instinct to hurt Rook. To make them angry and not love him anymore. To make it easier to end it, spare them the pain of breaking up now and of loosing him to death one day. By protecting himself from the pain of their death should he outlive them.
As if that would work and make any difference to Rook, or him. They are already so madly in love with each other.
And I think, what makes Rook different from his previous partners is that they realized, if they let him finish this sentence, he might break something beyond repair. Even if it was his fear speaking at that moment, not his love. Running away from his feelings is a recurring theme for him. And he does not WANT to break up with them. But his fear tells him its better this way. Fear is a liar, though.
So they speak a harsh truth. It’s his fear, insecurities and cowardice speaking. They do not let him get away with it. It is harsh, yes. But I think it was also necessary. It spells out a truth he did not want to admit to himself. He is afraid, insecure and a coward. And the big question, is that what he wants to be? They are, in sadly not the nicest way, telling him to get hid goddamn shit together. And sometimes that’s needed. Especially for an academic man like Emmrich. No Emmrich, that is not logical. It is pure emotion and fear is running your life, not you.
In a perfect world they would have told him so in a calm and collected manner. Less harsh words and more kindness. But would that have had the same impact on Emmrich? Rook is a person too, with their own fears and hopes and dreams. And Emmrich right now is breaking their heart. I think he needed that. To see the pain and hurt he inflicted on them.
Can you imagine the regret he would feel in the end? If he left Rook? It would leave him a broken shell of a man. His final defeat. Fear had won. Nothing would be better, and no one would have been spared any pain. I would just be a lifetime of regret and what ifs. The one person who accepted him fully, loved him so deeply, and HE threw everything away.
I think, the time Rook was trapped inside the fade prison might have been the best thing that could happen in the long run. It’s all his fears come to reality. Rook is gone. He lost them. And he just wants to curl up and hide. But he can’t. He needs to find them. If he lets fear win now, Rook might be lost forever. He cannot allow himself to be coward now. I think this time was a come-to-Jesus moment for him. It forced him to look at his fears and what they’ve cost him. It’s a moment where he needs to stop letting fear control his life.
The last real private moment they had was a fight, filled with fear and anger. (That short apology in the middle of a battlefield was hardly private and could in no way make up for the words that were said.)
That last evening should have been a time filled with love. A memory to cherish. But now it’s a memory one would want to forget. And that was his own doing. It was not something out of his control, like “death”. It was his words and actions that tainted their time together. And what if that was the last time they’d seen each other, been with each other? What if that is his last real memory of them? The look of anger and pain and hurt on Rooks face, caused by HIM, by what he had actively said and done? I think this might be the first time he realizes that his fears take more from him, than death ever could.
Phobias and anxieties are not cured that easily, of course. I think in a way, they will always stay with him, to a degree. But I do think he had some important realizations that will put him on a path of growing. At least in regards of how he deals with his fears.
And then he found them. He found his Rook. They are back and they are alive. He can hold them in his arms again and how could he ever even think about turning away from them? They are a gift, a miracle, the deepest wish fulfilled. A wish he’d given up upon. Something he thought he would never have.
And then the last scene with the coffin. Okay here I go the Astarion route and I am absolutely convinced that that coffin is his. Of course he had planned all things in regards to his death. He had chosen the crypt he wanted to be buried in. And at that moment he took them there. The place that had been the mark of the final end, now the mark of the rest of his life. And Rook? Rook still wants him, after everything. They still love him.
When they pull him into a kiss? He doesn’t see the end of their time, but the start of the rest of their life together. That look on his face when Rook leads him to that coffin? This look of absolute vulnerability? I think, in a way, this is a first time for him. All open and vulnerable. All he is and feels no longer hidden away but cherished and loved. He will always fear loosing them, them loosing him, how could he not. But they are here and HE is finally able to truly commit. He is finally giving everything. He will always fear, but now love wins. Rook holds his heart in their hands, and he trusts them completely. He gives himself to them. He is theirs, forever.
Hell, that man breaks my heart in so many ways.
So what’s in store for them in the future? Sadly we do not get epilogue sliders for our LIs.
But those two I truly think are in it for the long haul. There will be many good days, filled with happiness and laughter and kisses. They will go on adventures, see the world, experience life together in its fullest.
There will also be bad days, when fear rears its head, and his chest hurts from the sheer pain it inflicts on him. But I hope he comes to a point where he is able to turn to Rook in those times, instead of pushing them away. Where he lets them comfort him, hold him, until this feeling loses its grip on him.
Those bad days will never diminish those wonderful days they have together, though. Just a rain cloud, hiding the sun for a day or two. And it can’t rain forever.
Then, when one of them finally goes on to their last journey, they will wait for their love. And when they are united again, they walk eternity hand in hand.
#emmrich#emmrich volkarin#emmrook#emmrich x rook#dragon age emmrich#da4 emmrich#dragon age#dragon age veilguard#dragon age the veilguard#veilguard#da#dav#datv#let me explain to you in this essay#he deserves all the love and kindness#i have a demon of obsession within me
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“… and be sure to report any further unusual tectonic activity. Dismissed.” Bats finally finished the report. Why was he here? Right the first five minutes had been about the possibility of magic having been used. This really should have been an email he just ignored or left Zatanna to deal with. Bunny girl was better at feigning interest than he was after all. “John, Zatanna if you would both remain.”
Damn the brat. Why did the inter dimensional brat decide today to bug him? John knew he could pop up at literally any point in time like it was normal. It was revenge. For what offense he didn’t know. Or maybe he hadn’t even done it yet. Stupid fifth dimensional traveling.
“… stantine. CONSTANTINE.” “Bugger off.”
“John.”
Shit. Okay first names were bad with the cape. Like find a new existence and disappear off the face of the planet bad.
“Right sorry mate just, distracted.”
“The fact that an eldritch horror from who knows where was hanging off you like a scarf actually had some effect on you? You must be getting sentimental in your old age.”
“Love we both know that if it was weighing on me I wouldn’t be around to talk. You wouldn’t be either.” John had some respect for Zatanna. She was a good mage. Understood the proper importance of a cigarette and a blokes need to keep up appearances. Usually at least. “Got a cig?”
“Those will kill you someday.” The disapproval and sarcasm rolled off her tongue as smooth as the honeyed lies the lass would use with magic. John wanted to quip back but settled for a death glare as the big bad bat threatened to perfect his own death glare on him. Why did the bat have to be such a stickler? Rules rules rules. Rules don’t save lives when they shackle you from good. Damnit. Why were all the big dogs so damn… good?
“Hrm.”
Right the bat. The bat that right now probably wanted to string him up by his ankles and let the archdemons sort out how to cut him into nice even thirds if his damned rules didn’t stop him. Why did he have a cigarette?
“Uh bats?”
“Hrm.”
Just as loquacious as always that cape. Keep that thought inside. Definitely keep the thought inside. Especially as you take that stupidly expensive cigarette.
“Thanks. I could really…” The cig was hard. It was candy. The bat almost had an actual expression under the cowl, there was the slightest tightness of the lips. A smirk. He was smirking. ”You know what? Fuck you.” The fake cig crunched in his mouth. It actually tasted pretty good. Not that he was going to ever let anyone know that. “I’m going home. Hopefully to eat my leftovers. The brat isn’t a threat. If you want to know just ask the lass about the between or the Infinite. Or better yet go ask Grundy about The Protector.”
God he needed a drink. And a smoke. And maybe another drink. John was pretty sure that his food was gone too.
“How old is he?”
Dammit lass. Why did you always know just what to say? “14…. I think.” John replied stopping at the door to the stupid tech magic tubes that Supes had insisted on. “He’s some other world’s hero.”
The lass had to think on that one. Not every day you meet an alternate. “Is he… okay?”
“He’s doing alright. Insists his parents couldn’t understand though, so he always carries it alone. Protects people that way, or so he says.” John finally let himself laugh. It was a fitting description of most of the capes who worked with the league. And himself. If he was generous. Pity he couldn’t afford to be generous with himself anymore. “I’m just his fallback. And debit card.”
“It would do him some good to meet others. If you can invite him to the next picnic.”
John blinked slowly. Then turned. The Bat had a smile. A proper smile. Soft and understanding. How? The man was almost certainly just a mass inhuman muscle and brains with the bare minimum speech capability bundled into a bat suit. “I’ll make sure to offer it. But he’s still weird about his… abilities.”
“I’ll get him added to the budget.”
“Budget?” Now this was sounding promising. While the league did pay it wasn’t much more than rent for the closet he used to access the house.
“For young heroes or metas under league guidance. One of the points Bruce Wayne insisted on when he decided to find us officially. So they have a safe place.”
“I’m a safe place?” John’s incredulity was finally outweighing his paranoia. A hefty feat considering even he considered himself to be 90% paranoia by volume.
“Sure sounds like it mate.” Only the lass could say something so damning like it was a good thing.
“{Guess so}” Why did he understand the grunt? Are the grunts some secret dad cape speak? Why was he suddenly qualified for…. Nope. Nope. He’s going home. Sleep liquor and maybe a bit of tele. No he wasn’t tearing up. And no one could see his face to tell you otherwise.
Danny has met Constantine.
Constantine has a coat.
Danny regularly pops out of it to say hi or when Constantine calls him for something.
Nobody in the JL knew this, so when Danny popped right on out in the middle of a meeting.
Well.
#dpxdc#dc x dp#danny phantom#john constantine#John is Danny’s safe place and a provider of food he doesn’t have to put down again#And he’s really not sure about this assigned role#But the house treats him like it treats John#Maybe even slightly better#So he can’t really hid it#And well#from what Danny says about his life?#John really doesn’t want to anymore#Because no kid should have to fight the eldrtich horror that satan built hell to keep out#And then have to go to highschool again in the morning#John anytime he thinks about this kid and what he must be going through: I got to help this kid not become an eldritch horror#danny every time he’s interacting with John: he’s my adopted fun uncle and I have to mess with him while Benny hill plays in the background
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~{ You all know what time it is! }~
•The Circus•
Jazz and Danny have always taken care of each other when their parents eventually forgot about them
Like when Jazz had to learn how to cook and fight off reanimated food to feed Danny when she was 6 because their parents got a new idea and had to work on it right that second
Or when Danny had to find a way to copy Maddies hand writing so when Jazz got sick or had class trip and she was to busy with other things so could go and have fun like someone her age so have
So you can tell they always took care of the other so when Maddie and Jack tried to lock Danny in the lab and have their way with the “Ghost scum” Jazz stood by his side until the end
And now that they both are full ghost that’s not going to change a bit they took care of each other in life
They going to take care of the other in death
•••••••••••••••••••••••••
When The Circus held out their hand for Jazz and Danny they were a bit surprised and untrusting in the beginning in fact Jazz would never leave Danny’s side or the other way around
But they have been with The Circus for some time now ( It’s hard to tell how long you’ve been in here Jazz and Danny find out pretty quickly ) and the people of The Circus has gained some of their trust but never quite all of it ( only the other has their full trust )
but the one they trust the most has to be the ringmasters or the leader of The Circus they keep everyone safe and protected so Jazz and Danny can respect that in them
And they made sure Jazz and Danny were safe as well so they respected the ringmaster a lot but not to the point where they would take their side over the other but they still respected them
Back on track, Jazz has been given the role as a sharp shooter and Danny as a Aerial act and of course jazz and Danny are always in acts together (The ringmaster has tried to get them to be separated acts due to their different roles and he got punched by jazz after he got to close to Danny for her liking, she gains everyones respect that day)
And if you need danny you often have to get past jazz first due to her being overprotective of Danny
How Danny and Jazz fight, Danny will use the silk he uses often in his and Jazz’s acts grab the person and fly around as fling the person all around and disorient them as Jazz fires her gun at them until the person is unable to fight or Danny and Jazz just get broad they will from Danny’s silks or whatever he’s using for flying around let them hit the ground or Danny will stop flying and Jazz gos at it, they treat it like target practice (They got everyone respect and fear after they did that the first time)
•••••••••••••••••••••••••
~{ Now onto the DCU part! }~
A emergency meeting is called for the JL about a new potential enemy or a rescue mission
So when one of the heroes [Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, The Flash, Green arrow, Green lantern, Martian Manhunter, Aqua Man] in the meeting ask what it is are told about
A large big top that has large mechanical legs with the possibility of more due to the build of this structure and it seems to have been avoiding main areas where one of the main members of the JL are like its hiding
inhabitants of this is known to be unpredictable in their actions and how they react to people and objects out side of the structure and how they respond to questions about the big top or anything related to The Circus they will act as though the big top and whole Circus itself can hear them and become quiet and run off (They don’t really talk to people out side of acts so they just run back to where the others are or back to where their act is taking place)
And very little is known about them but this was brought to their attention due to the disappearances of people in the wake of The Circus (The ghost walk in and move on to the Ghost zone or find peace) and this is a problem and with the concerning words of some of the people who are in The Circus it is leaning towards the rescue mission
And they need to find out what is happening and need a team to go under cover and young justice volunteers to go under cover
•••••••••••••••••••••••••
~{ Now onto Danny and Jazz’s outfits! }~
For Danny I’m thinking
This for the outfit ~{ Or not this is really the best I could find that I at least liked enough }~
And for Jazz I’m thinking something like this
Or this ~{ I’m not picky about which }~
•••••••••••••••••••••••••
~{ And that’s it for this! I hope you things like it and life’s to short punch a politician! Byeeeee }~
#dc x dp#dp x dc#dc x dp crossover#dc x dp prompt#danny phantom#that weird thing in the woods#that-weird-thing-in-the-woods#dc x dp fic#dc x dp fanfiction#dpxdc#dp x dc au#dc x dp au#dp x dc prompt#dp x dc crossover#dcxdp#dp x dc misunderstandings#dc x dp misunderstandings#misunderstandings#danny au#Jazz is best sister#the JL is concerned#Yes this is very steampunk inspired and no I will not have questions#everyone is concerned about this Circus#Jazz’s and Danny’s obsessions were based off of helping other people#so when they died together it turned their obsessions to the other but not in a weird way#if shipped you will be Blocked!!#Danny is a goth steampunk twink#Jazz is a pirate core steampunk with a G U N#and I take no questions#danny fenton
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okay okay okay thoughts/excited ramblings about the wicked movie under the cut bc i've seen it and now i'm insane about it again
let's be real it's kinda hard to fumble the opening number of a musical especially when that opening number is no one mourns the wicked and yet i was still absolutely blown away it was SO GOOD
the lil munchkins running, the singing in the streets, the posters of the witch (side note all the artwork was insanely good and just added so much to the style of oz i feel like) it was all so awesome
NOMTW becomes so sinister and they nailed it
obligatory emotional babbling about glinda standing alone in the crowd as everyone sings 'the wicked's lives are lonely'
before i left for the theater i was like 'take your bets on if i'll cry' and my roommate and i agreed that yeah obviously i would. but what i didn't expect is for ariana's sad face to knock me out in five minutes flat. i was done for
the effigy. holy shit. and handing the torch to glinda. i want to go see the whole thing again just so i can rewatch that scene. my heart still hurts
(also nanny! sort of not really. but i liked the childhood scenes i liked that elphaba had one (1) good thing in her life before shiz)
SHIZ okay shiz honestly shiz was the thing i was most excited for bc c'mon, we don't write about our gothic magic school all the time in fic for nothing. and honestly it was so good. the shots of the whole castle! the library design! the balcony moments and the stairways and just like the layers of architecture and the way morrible could kind of be anywhere at any time. the way it felt so grand and yet so small at the same time. idk man the vibes were good and the set was beautiful
glinda arriving by boat was magical that's all
the way everything dillamond had was tailored to him was fantastic it was so good
actually i want to shout out the library set design again and how it tied into the clockwork theme that never gets fully called out even in the musical but it's still so good
where's my time dragon clock tho
also back up the scene where elphaba loses her temper in the courtyard--when she breaks the relief of the wizard, there's old artwork of Animals behind it and i gasped out loud when i saw it
and that was the first moment i thought 'this is brilliant but i still want an hbo dark fantasy political drama tv show based on the book'
speaking of the dark fantasy political drama tv shows, the Animal meeting!! i'm so glad they put more stuff like that in there
actually as a whole the movie felt more grounded and less comedic than the musical. i think they did a fantastic job of keeping the magic and silliness and charm and wonder of the show while still adding those extra bits of drama and dire circumstances
anyway gelphie fic prank wars trope is officially canon great work everybody handshakes all around. i was cackling (silently. i promise i'm a respectful moviegoer)
the ozdust ballroom being illegal makes so much sense. it being underwater was fucking cool. boq and nessa were actually really great and i usually don't care about them at all during this scene
also i love love love nessa and i cannot wait to see more of her. but showing her multiple times on the sidelines when elphie was being humiliated was such a good choice. the tension between nessa obviously caring for her sister yet always caring for herself more is so delicious and i always want to see it fleshed out more, and i think they did such a good job with her? her and elphaba have sweet moments which i love, and her wanting to be independent and only elphaba really understanding that is so so good. and having her just watching elphaba for so long before finally saying she can't watch. god i can't wait to see her be desperate and selfish and cold in act 2, it's gonna be so good
side note boq also looking upset by elphie being bullied. i miss my brotp man
but let's talk about what's most important: the gelphie dance. because oh my god i started crying all over again. so did elphaba. and glinda wiping her tears i'm dying i've died oh my god
i always get a little bit surprised when glinda seems more head over heels than elphaba. idk why. but ariana's glinda is absolutely more head over heels than cynthia's elphaba and i loved it
(they just. freaking LEFT the party. just zipped out of there as soon as they hugged. glinda was like hmmm i just realized some things and grabbed elphaba's hand and ran off while the night was young. and fiyero stared after them knowing that he stood no chance whatsoever)
also i'm like 72% sure the guys sitting next to me were a couple? and they both cried during the gelphie dance too and it was a very unexpected but very funny moment of solidarity
i say ariana's glinda is more head over heels and i stand by it but elphaba's fond little smile when glinda was pouting about sharing secrets almost made me start sobbing again they're so GOOD they're so CUTE and she is SO heart eyes for glinda immediately!!!
i need to be sedated i swear
popular was adorable 10/10 no notes absolutely nailed it i loved every second
also glinda sitting next to elphaba in class now. my heart <3
after dillamond gets hauled away (again with this being more violent and dark and those moments of drama coming through more in the movie i loveeee) glinda doesn't sit down until elphaba does
also they had several little moments of elphaba looking to glinda and glinda either shaking her head or nodding. they've been friends for 2 days and they're already having silent conversations i love them <3
the poppy spell? was sick as hell????
another seeing of wicked, another complete sense of bafflement as to why fiyero is there
i say this jokingly but the fiyero and elphaba romance really does feel like a product of the early 2000s especially now that it's on screen rather than on stage. idk maybe that's just the lesbian in me talking though
the train design is also sick but we knew that from the trailers
okay look logically yes i knew idina and kristin would have cameos. but i'd been crying on and off and one short day's magic had already taken hold so they caught me completely off guard. it was great
the wizard stuff was really sweet. and while i was hoping for more time put toward shiz and stuff, i do think those moments did a great job of 1) showing how much elphaba just wants to be loved 2) foreshadowing the wizard being her father and 3) laying the groundwork for her briefly considering working with the wizard in act 2, which is a decision that never quiteee feels right in the show
i love that they put more lore into the grimmerie btw. very cool
the hot air balloon was random but fun. i wonder if it'll come up again in act 2
every time. every damn time glinda starts singing in defying gravity i just want someone to end it right there. glinda grabs the broom, it fades to black, and they both lived happily ever after
fuck
defying gravity taking place at sunset because it's at the end of their one short day of happiness
also UM morrible coming up and hugging glinda when she's crying. exquisite emotional manipulation i'm screaming
elphie! seeing! her! inner! child! i loved the baby elphie scenes even though i prefer creepy 'horrors' elphaba always. but seeing her come back was sooooo fucking good
elphaba only ever relying on herself, in the end
glinda's final 'i hope you're happy' took me out, as it always does, as it always should. and reaching out from the balcony? i'm sobbing again
morrible dragging glinda into the darkness while elphaba flies into the sun! someone fucking help me i'm already wrecked by these two
honestly my biggest complaint is that now i have to wait for part two, i want to see the rest nowwwww
#wicked movie#gelphie#gelphie my beloved oh my god#a bunch of my friends saw it and were like 'it's amazing everyone should see it'#and i was like yeah i mean i trust your opinion#but is it 'i was obsessed with this for some of the most important years of my life#and i hold it with such a reverence that borders on possessiveness' good?#but lemme tell you it was pretty damn amazing and everyone should see it#also side note i think nomtw is my new favorite wicked song
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HIS LITTLE
BOOKWORM
pairing: nicholas a. chavez x black!fem!reader
summary: it’s the year 1991. top man on campus and college senior, nicholas chavez, is finding it difficult to stay on task to study for midterms. how else could he concentrate when his growing infatuation of the newest librarian keeps getting worse?
guest starring: michael evans behling as calvin and rudy pankow as chad.
a/n: my first official smut fic, so please be kind! reblogs are highly appreciated. if you like it, should i do a part two?
contains: 18+ content mdni, lots of words, 90s au, 15 year age gap (nicholas is 22 and reader is 37) reader is divorced, swearing, mention of cheating, alcohol consumption, partying, wet dreams, sensual fantasy, sexual tension, flirting, making out, groping, fingering, oral (f! receiving), squirting, public sex (but no one can see it), masturbation, morally gray nicholas, nicholas is obsessed with reader, nicholas is a pervert, but also respects reader.
taglist: @jkr820 @simply-the-best23 @thabiddie23 @hoffmansgirl @austeenbootler @greengoblinswifey @hnch33rios @supaprettyg @xoxoglittergossip @ellethespaceunicorn @rosiestalez @sabrinasopposite @camiesully @tryingtograspctrl @elitesanjisimp @gxuxhdjdu @sheydnni
nicholas chavez was used to strutting the emerald pathways of the university he attended with such an air of confidence, but this time was different. this time was fucked. it was now an air of utter frustration and instead of strutting, he was trudging down the sidewalk hard enough that creases could be forming on his new, pristine adidas sneakers. he didn’t really give a fuck though. he just needed to get to this library, meet his friend, calvin, and cram the best way he could for a good hour or two. after three years of working his ass off to maintain his full-ride, he thought it was a great idea for him to let loose more often and kick back with his friends this time around. one could diagnose nicholas with the classic case of “senioritis”, but he’d call it giving a guy a break. when it came to the topic of college parties, his parents would advise him not to overdo it, but nichloas was a grown ass man now, so he can make his grown ass decisions with some grown ass control. that’s if answering every single page from calvin that signaled an event containing available booze, joints, and pussy within a few miles was control—or, perhaps consuming so much alcohol the night before a lecture where nicholas would be rushing out of his apartment with a piercing headache that grew stronger due to the burning light of the sun as he tries to make it on time was control. it was all catching up to him now as midterms were looming in and no matter how much the cares of the world lifted off his shoulders while doing body shots off the spray tanned abdomen of a pam anderson wannabe, he knew couldn’t fuck those up.
a deep sigh of relief escapes from his chest after he finally approaches the classic, colossal structure of the academic building. nicholas steps forward and pulls the handle of the door for him to be granted access. the interior had a hardwood floor as the walls were plastered with various portraits of the college’s most notable along with some inspirational quotes from authors and historical figures. the bookshelves were arranged against the walls that held endless rows of texts that varied in every researchable area that could fit the need of each student. it wasn’t swamped, but there was a good twenty-five people who also had the same idea as nicholas. his brown eyes dart from table to table until they land on the familiar face of calvin and another mutual friend they’ve occasionally partied with named, chad. making haste, nicholas approached the table.
“it’s about time your ass showed, chavez.” calvin quipped, leaning back in the wooden chair as he twiddled a pencil between his fingers. he then leaned forward to catch nick’s hand in a casual dap, with chad following suit. nicholas sat his black jansport backpack in the empty chair beside him and proceeded to take the necessary books out after sitting down.
“cal, don’t be a dick. i’m here aren’t i?” nicholas retorts with a roll of his eyes, opening the textbook to the correct page. chad picked up on the tone of annoyance.
“woah, who pissed on your parade? sounds like someone didn’t get any sleep last night. haha—ow!” chad’s snickers were cut off with nick’s foot thrashing against his shin.
“the fuck was that for!” chad whispered as he hissed while rubbing the painful area of his leg. calvin placed a hand over his mouth to muffle his hysterical laughter while nicholas was too busy reviewing material and jotting down important notes to even care,
“just for being you, chad.” nicholas dryly replied not taking his eyes off the page. exhausted from laughter, calvin took a breath and tried to ease the tension.
“in his defense, you did go overboard with those shots last night, man. there was also the keg, and the beer pong tournament—”
“say another word or i’ll kick your balls right under this goddamn table, calvin.” nicholas calmly fired, still not looking up from the page. calvin knew nick was pissed at the use of his full name. he chuckled one last time waving the white flag to resume to his book and their table was filled with silence again. nicholas was really paying for his sins now. his hand was starting to cramp at all of the notes he was writing, he felt the fatigue was about to set in when his lids start to droop down. shit, he can’t crash now. nicholas peered at the clock ticking on the wall, even that sound at such a low volume was making this hangover worse. he groaned and plopped his head down on the table, massaging his temple in agony when he heard a voice that didn’t belong to calvin nor chad. it was of a female, but not like the typical ones that they’d mess around with. the voice was soft, but carried a weight of genuine sincerity.
“i hate to be a bother, but are you boys alright over here?”
who the hell could it be to pester him now? when nicholas lifted his head from the table to give this broad a piece of his mind for her impromptu disturbance, his hardened brown gaze immediately softened to one of captivation when he saw—you. you stood at the head of the table holding a bottle of water in your hand. you were wearing a pristine long-sleeved white button up blouse that was slightly unbuttoned by the top to at least expose the brown skin of your neck. a black velvet pencil skirt hugged around your hips perfectly as it fell right above your knees and your dark natural hair was put up in a french roll bun with a couple of loose curls falling in front of your face. there was no doubt in nicholas’ mind that you were definitely older, but damn. you looked stunning for whatever age you may be. speaking of your face, nicholas found himself to be transfixed by your smooth brown skin. you had warm coffee eyes, your lashes fluttered beneath your black rectangular glasses, and your lined full lips were painted with clear gloss. he was so deep in his observation of your—everything, nicholas didn’t notice how tongue tied he was and that calvin had to be the one to speak on his behalf,
“uh-um, yeah! he’s just a little y’know—” he stammered.
“hungover?” you whisper, finishing his sentence as you leaned in closer to nicholas to further inspect his condition. while reading at your desk, you caught a glimpse of the three young men at the table a few feet from you. they did the usual banter of ripping into each other before resuming their studies until you noticed that the brunette suddenly plopped his face down to the table. you knew it all too well and you had the proper solution, so you made your way over to check in and possibly be of assistance.
“uh, yeah. i guess you could say that.” calvin responded surprised by your straightforwardness.
“mm-hm. i understand! i actually got a table filled with water, coffee, and snacks in that room over there in the corner for midterms week.” you pause and point in the direction of the room in which he and chad peer over. “i get how stressful this time could be, so please help yourselves to whatever you’d like. maybe your friend could use some water.”
calvin and chad’s eyes glimmered at the mention of free food while nicholas still sat there looking like a hypnotized fool that hasn’t uttered a word since your arrival. he’s never frozen like this in the presence of any woman before and here you were, chatting it up with his sleazy ass friends. chad sung his praises as he was already starving,
“gee, thanks! that’s really dope of you ms.—”
“just y/n is fine. i’m actually the new head librarian for the university! i’ve started about two weeks ago.” you mentioned gesturing to the general area that was filled with roaming students. “and you’re very welcome, hun! this is all just a way to make sure students have what they need to be successful.”
“well, can i just say that it was definitely a pleasure to meet you? maybe i need to come here more often.” calvin flashed his signature charming grin, his eyes briefly raking your figure. a tad awkward under his gaze, you knew it was time to get back to work. you give a court nod towards the trio,
“well—it was great to meet you! enjoy the snacks and good luck on your exams.”
the temperature of nicholas’ face rises as his cheeks glow with the shade of a faded rose when he sees your lips form into a smile at calvin’s compliment. this strange emotion he was feeling grew more intense when you gently placed your palm on nicholas’ shoulder. the water bottle that was in your other hand was now placed beside of his textbook. he could’ve sworn that the closer you leaned into him, he could surely peek down into your shirt to see your breasts. a smile of reassurance graces your face and you considerably speak in a low volume,
“if you ever need anything, don’t be afraid to ask, dear. i hope this helps. god knows, it’s helped me!” you joke, sending him a wink and bade the group to continue with their work before going off to do some organizing of inventory. the trio’s eyes are pulled into the subtle sway of your hips, heads were tilted to get a proper view of the outline of your ass when you saunter in the opposite direction, your sleek black heels accentuate the calf muscles of your smooth, brown legs. as soon as you disappear from their view, chad and calvin let out a low whistle, giving each other some daps.
“man, let me tell you something. it’s like living in a porno, she’s the hottest librarian i’ve ever seen!” calvin commented, his fingers stroking his groomed facial hair as he bit his lip at the thought of you. chad leaned back in his chair with his hands ruffling in his dirty blonde hair to stop them from going down in his jeans.
“you said it, dude. i don’t give a fuck how old she is, i’d knock the absolute dust off that pu—”
“would you guys stop?”
at their words, nicholas had finally came back to reality. they were absolutely right. you were fine as fuck, utterly fuckable by any means necessary, but there was something else about you that was more than making nicholas’ dick twitch. you didn’t know him from a can of paint and here you were like an angel, providing him with a solution after seeing him on the brink of passing out while his “friends” just sat there and shrugged it off as another hangover. it was, but nicholas wasn’t usually at the top of his game and it would only get worse if he didn’t get his shit together. it was just a simple gesture, but your concerned gaze paired with an understanding smile made him feel—warm. yet, he’d still want to bend you over one of these tables and hike up that skirt to see what you were working with of course. he’d never tell those goons at his table that though. it didn’t help that nicholas was getting pissed that they were talking about you like were one of those skanks at the parties they attended on campus. you just gave them a warm welcome and this is how they repay you? he had to put a stop to this.
“god, you guys are pigs. that’s probably somebody’s wife—or mom.” nicholas aggressively chided, his harsh gaze had returned. the guys send nicholas an appalled stare of confusion. their brows quirk at this new defensive attitude, nicholas was usually a bit cranky during a hangover, but now it looked like as if they were going to get their asses kicked because of casual dirty talk that they always engaged in.
“the hell is your problem, man? i got a good look at her and i sure as shit didn’t see a ring. plus, we were just complimenting the broad. don’t get so pissy.” chad protested leaning forward to his original position.
“yeah, she’s hot. weren’t you checking her out too? you were like a deer in headlights. you couldn’t even fucking talk to her, man.” calvin stated and gestured to the water that still sat untouched in front of nicholas, “don’t forget to sober up when you actually talk to your new girlfriend.” nicholas silently responded with his middle finger to the air. with a peeved chuckle, calvin tapped chad on the shoulder for them to take a break from the conversation and get a snack from the table in the room you’ve mentioned earlier.
when finally alone, nicholas’ eyes darted around the building in an attempt to seek you out, just to thank you for the water obviously. it was the least he could do after demonstrating such an embarrassing first impression. he couldn’t find you while sitting, so he took a few gulps of water and stood from his chair with a new wave of energy surging through his body. he wasn’t a hundred percent himself, but he was definitely better than he was ten minutes earlier. you could be anywhere in here, but nicholas was willing to take a chance to see you again when he conducted his search. it takes a few minutes as he travels shelf by shelf until he pauses to find you between two bookshelves, you were a couple feet away from him as you were squatting down sorting through the titles. nicholas stealthily leaned against the shelf, his eyes catching the skirt hike further up your closed knees the more you moved. god, how he wanted to see what was underneath. you had a concentrated furrowed gaze as you meticulously read the print, your finger pushed your glasses up on the bridge of your nose whenever you felt them slide down.
it amazed nicholas that you were still oblivious to his presence for the past three minutes. he could tell that you were into the literature you were organizing, his mind wandered to what type of books you’ve read. would you be into non-fiction, like history and science? classic literature? perhaps, greek tragedy? romance? he’d figure chicks of any age liked that kind of mushy shit. he inspected your hands, notably the left that had a bare ring finger. chad was correct, you weren’t tied down at all. before his internal interrogation of you could continue, it was all broken when he heard your voice.
“oh, hello there, again!” you enthusiastically greet, your voice soft and inviting. “is there anything i can help you with?” you inquired, halting your task. you dust your hands and stand up right to smooth down your skirt. he stopped leaning when you stepped closer. he didn’t want to seem so informal. with his hands buried in his pockets, he managed to get a word out without trying to sound like a bumbling idiot,
“uh, no, ma’am. i just—wanted to thank you for the water. it actually really helped ‘cause i wasn’t feeling too hot back there. it was cool for you to do that, so thanks.” nicholas spoke with a nervous, yet amicable tone. he tries not to blush under your benevolent gaze before he continues,
“i know i was zoned out, but you said your name was y/n, right? well, i’m nicholas. nicholas chavez. it’s a pleasure to meet you.” he held out his hand for yours to grasp, it was a tad smaller compared to his. as your earth toned fingers wrapped around his palm, his mind began to wander how they would look sunken deep within your—
“ah, yes, nicholas! i believe i’ve heard of you at my first staff meeting not too long ago. you hold an outstanding record here at the college. from what i’ve heard, you’re an exemplary student that’s on his way to a bright future. that’s surely impressive.”
holy shit, it was like every interaction with you caused a switch between his dick and his heart. it was terrifyingly exhilarating. you’d just saw him in the most embarrassing moment and yet, you didn’t scold nor judge him like any other uppity professor. you were impressed. with a humble demeanor, he thanked you for your praises even though a rush of arousal was bubbling from the inside. alas, nicholas needed to focus on getting these midterms out of the way before he starts to loose that grown-ass control he claimed he had. he couldn’t fuck up knowing that he was held to such a high standard, even higher now that you were in the know. he didn’t want to, but he had to go back to work.
“i appreciate it! um, i apologize if i put you off by not saying anything earlier. it’s so embarrassing—”
you shook your head, putting a hand up to wave it, indicating to him that it was the least of your worries.
“i’ve been there, done that. college isn’t easy and you want to make the most of it before it’s over. you’re a senior, right?” you pause, awaiting an answer, in which he nods. “then you’re okay! as long as you’re properly balancing between work and play, i think you’ll be fine.”
“all work and no play makes nick a dull boy.” he quotes, with a smirk spreading across his face. you can’t help, but to chuckle in agreement at his charm. this definitely wasn’t the groggy young man you’d encounter at that table. it was refreshing to see him get a sense of his spirit back.
“quoting howell. i see you don’t play about hitting those books.” you pause and look back at the unfinished task behind you before shifting your attention back to nicholas, who never took his eyes off you for a second, “speaking of, i suggest i’d better get back to work. i don’t want to keep you from studying and your friends. as i said, if you need anything, you know where to find me!”
with a nod and a wave of goodbye, you go your separate ways, but with each passing day, you’d find each other in every corner of your lives. after class, nicholas would find himself in the library more often not only for a quieter place to study, but to see what you were up to. you were obviously working, but he loved to see you in your element. nicholas doesn’t know why he came in to study for another midterm after class because he was bound to get distracted by you again. while you were reading on your break, you indulged in a cherry lollipop. nicholas attentively watched from his table as you let the sugared delicacy swirl around in your mouth, humming a whitney houston tune before you pop it out and twirl it between your fingers. it made nicholas go crazy seeing the subtle shine from your saliva on the candy. he could only imagine what your lips would feel like on any part of his skin, specifically on his own lips or where he would want you the most. when he didn’t come in to study, he’d ease his way in under the guise of volunteering to help you around the place. when he offered, you were overjoyed because let’s face it, this job was a lot to handle, so there was no harm in having someone as strapping as him do the heavy lifting. he did more than that. almost everyday, he’d come in to help you organize inventory, tidy up shelves, and help students find books. while doing so, he’d make small talk in effort to get to know you. he’d inquire about where you were from, what college you went to, your interests, and your pet peeves. then his questions would start to get personal. you two sorting were through books late one night when it began,
“y/n, i have a question for you. please, don’t think me rude, though.” he asked, breaking the silence.
“go for it, nicholas.” you shrug, looking over a title.
“um, okay. how do i ask this—you don’t have to answer, but how old are you?”
you stop and peer over your glasses at nicholas, giving him a pointed look. he stood casually with his arms crossed.
“y’know it’s impolite to ask a woman her age, right?” at that response, he threw his hands up in surrender.
“i know. m’sorry it’s just— you don’t seem so stuck up like the other staff here. you’re so chill and welcoming compared to them.” he stopped to see you still had the same neutral expression. “y’know what forget it. i shouldn’t have—” he rambles before you cut him off.
“i’m thirty-seven.” you state loud enough for only both of you to hear, fully turning your body to his.
“really?” he questioned tilting his head.
“yes, i am. you seemed surprised.”
“respectfully, you could’ve fooled me—i never would’ve guessed that.”
“i appreciate the flattery, nicholas, but in the past, i would’ve been old enough to be your babysitter.” you chuckle and turn away from him again. you didn’t see his eyes move down to your ass then back up at your head, but his response had you internally floored,
“heh, yeah. my hot babysitter.”
your felt the familiar heat rush through your body. from that point on, nicholas had only gotten bolder. he was even kind enough to go on a coffee run for you when he noticed you were running on empty one day.
“oh, nicholas, you’re a godsend! thank you so much. for this, i should give you the rest of the day off.” you say taking the cup with a smile of gratitude. nicholas felt that same rush as your fingers brushed against his while passing the cup.
“of course! anything for you.” he replied, meaning every single word. “i always found it polite to help women in need.” he paused, not taking his intense gaze away from you murmuring, “especially the beautiful ones.” before you could respond to that comment, he was already off helping a couple of freshman find what they need. maybe nicholas was just being polite, so you didn’t dwell on it that much. just like you didn’t dwell on when you were trying to reach for a book and his tall figure suddenly loomed over yours. he was so close that if you’d step back one centimeter, your back would collide with his chest. your eyes spectated as his muscular arm reached for the exact title you were grabbing for and he deliberately brought it down in front of you to take.
“is this what you’re looking for?” he whispered, your heart raced as a pool of arousal started to form between your legs. you swallow, getting your thoughts together,
“yes, that’s the one. thank you, nicholas.”
“your pleasure’s all mine.”
“excuse me?” you inquired, making sure you weren’t hearing things.
“i said the pleasure’s all mine.” he left again with a smirk playing on his face as you stood there flabbergasted and flustered as all get out.
nicholas wouldn’t just see you around in the library though, on the week after midterms, he was walking with calvin to the campus gym for a workout, but then stopped when he heard what sounded like your voice. nicholas could hear your laughter in the distance.
who the fuck could that be making you laugh so hard?
“hey, i’ll catch up with you in a bit, cal, ‘needa check on something.” nicholas tapped a confused calvin’s arm, indicating to go on before he jogged into that direction. he found you at the college’s main café, sitting at an outside table conversing with who seemed to be one of nicholas’ professors, dr. bradley emerson. nicholas respected him as an educator because he saw him as a mentor who pushed him to his full potential, but now that respect turned to disgust as he watched the man gaze at you with such enthrallment and scooted in closer proximity as if he didn’t have a wife with twins at home. what a fucking bastard. oh, but who could blame him? it didn’t help that you looked breathtakingly beautiful today. nicholas thought you always did, but you looked different. your body was adorned with a long sleeved, chartreuse green collared polo paired with a dark brown pencil skirt and matching platform heels. instead of your usual french roll bun, your natural hair flowed down in the bounciest of curls. he was a goner when you flashed your award winning smile then proceeded to remove your glasses to reveal your heavenly aged face. that’s it. nicholas had to make the decision of approaching you the best way he could before staking his claim on you. he had to get you alone. he needed you all to himself. no fucking wandering eyes from his stupid ass friends nor his perving professors, just him.
this burning desire he had for you was starting to get the best of him at home. after his workout with calvin, nicholas sped back to his apartment to shower. you were back on his mind again, so he needed privacy. he wastes no time to enter into his abode and discard of his sweaty clothes before escaping into the steamy mist of his shower. as the water cascaded down his body, he closed his eyes. nothing, but your face invaded his thoughts. he wandered back to how you always read in your free time, he could imagine you reading a filthy erotica. with each word you read, you’d grow more needy as you let your thighs spread. nicholas grabbed ahold of his hardened dick, his palm stroking back and forth with the vision of your hand sliding down your nude body. he groaned at the thought of your fingers fondling and squeezing the smooth, melanated mounds of your breasts. your fingers would be pinching at your sensitive hershey kiss nipples. the strokes of his hand gain in speed while envisioning your hand finally going down to where he always wanted to be: the sweet, slick tunnel of your pussy. nicholas’ thumb circles around his swollen, pink tip as you’d start by caressing your clit in deliberation with light pressure the more you read. one finger would easily slip in, moving in and out effortlessly causing you to whimper. his hand grips harder on the shaft, hoping it would be his name. nicholas knew that one of your fingers wouldn’t be enough. hell, not even two nor three. you needed more. you deserved more. you deserved him.
right when you would become undone, nicholas convulsed and placed his free hand against the wall as he came within his palm. he could vividly see you ride out your high, the book would fall straight out of your hand with a hard thud to the floor as you try to regain consciousness from the overwhelming pleasure. nicholas caught his steady pattern of breathing and quickly, but throughly washed himself clean. he couldn’t wait anymore. he needed to feel you. he had to see that vision come to fruition. tonight.
it was now nine p.m., two hours before your shift came to an end. within the last couple of hours, nicholas had devised the perfect plan to sweep in and seduce you. after a clean shower, he brushed his teeth and spritzed his skin with the calvin klein obsession cologne he’d been saving up for. he wore a tight fitted white tank under a navy blue flannel with light washed blue jeans, and his new adidas. he didn’t forget top it off with his golden cross chain. he managed for his brown hair to naturally fall against his head, but he wasn’t worried about it too much because he wanted you to mess it up tonight. with one last glance at the clock, he retrieved his keys and made his way the place where he could always find you.
when nicholas entered the library, it was basically empty. the silence was filled with the familiar click of your heels and his feet didn’t fail into leading him exactly to where you were. he saw you as his little bookworm. there you sat reading in the hidden corner against a bookshelf, your heels off of your feet with your bare legs straight out crossed over the floor. yet again, he found your obliviousness endearing as you didn’t hear him approach and sit next to you until the intoxicating smell of obsession filled your nostrils. you looked over to see nicholas sitting at your side with his knees up to his chest, his elbows rested on top with his hands hanging loose. you jolted a bit and a sigh of relief escaped your lips,
“oh! nicholas, it’s just you. i’m surprised you’re here on a friday night.” you comment, removing your glasses to rub any sleep out of your eye. “so what brings you by? i know it’s definitely not academics.” you tiredly giggle. it’s been a long day for you and you just wanted some alone time reading your new favorite romance novel. this book in particular had a bit of—spice to it. just as you were getting to the part of the female lead receiving oral from her lover, you couldn’t say that you weren’t in a period of longing since your divorce. one thing you didn’t miss about your ex was his inability to go down south when you wanted him to. the erotic passage was getting good until nicholas popped in. you weren’t exactly mad at his arrival, but the thought of him finding out that you, a woman of your age, was reading this at her job would be humiliating to say the least.
“i guess you could say that i’m full of surprises.” he paused, taking a hand through his hair before fixing his eyes onto your face, then to the novel in your hand. “i just wanted to see how my favorite bookworm was doing—whatcha’ got there?” his finger pointed to the book. you hastily placed your bookmark in the page before closing it.
“oh, it’s just a silly little romance novel. it’s cheesy, really.” you respond dismissively not missing the smirk play upon nicholas’ lips.
“cheesy, eh? when i came in, it looked to me that you couldn’t take your eyes off the page. you were so—invested. was i interrupting something?” he inquired, scooting in a little closer to get a proper glimpse of the cover. god, his cologne was damn near intoxicating.
“n-no, no! of course not, i’m always glad to have you around, nicholas.” you reassured to ease the tension.
“oh, really? thanks. the feeling’s mutual.” he confessed, his voice soft as he placed his hand on the novel which was the only barrier between the contact of your skin.
you couldn’t help, but to feel that tingle rise at the mention of the nickname he gave you. his favorite bookworm. so many lines had been crossed with nicholas and you had to resist the temptation before you could lose this job, but there was something about him that made you feel a youthful thrill. it was something new, something fresh. you weren’t a dummy: nicholas chavez was obviously attracted to you. the signs were all there. the flirtatious comments, the close proximity, his lingering gaze on areas such as your lips, chest, and ass. this young man could have any other girl his age wrapped around his finger, but he’s intentionally pursuing you, someone fifteen years older. you’d be a liar if you denied your attraction for him. he was tall, muscular, polite, intelligent, and boyishly handsome. sigh, if it only nicholas was like this in ‘seventy-six, you’d bag him instead of your shitty excuse of an ex–husband. what’s also ironic, was that he cheated on you with someone a decade younger. thinking about his infidelity had you hotter than a firecracker, but then again, with the way that nicholas was looking at you like a predator about to pounce, maybe this was fate’s way of finally getting your payback.
fuck it. whatever game nicholas intended to play with you tonight, you were all for it.
“mind if i take a look at what was so important?” nicholas asked, his hand still on the book in your lap. now, it was your turn to smirk.
“from one avid reader to another, be my guest.” you slyly retort, sliding the book into his large hands. he deeply chuckles when he turns to the page you’ve marked, right at the beginning of the passionate exchange between the main characters. you watch his dark brow arch as his brown eyes skim through each paragraph by the second. you notice the bob of his adam’s apple and the hum vibrating in his chest momentarily before he closes the book and sets it down by his side. he huffs out a breath with a whistle.
“i guess i was interrupting something.” he quips, turning his intense gaze back to your heated profile, scooting closer than before. “i never pinned you for reading something so—raunchy.”
“mm-hm. that’s my secret and you also got to read it before i did.” you pause. your eyes maintaining contact, trapping your pouty lip between your teeth. “it’s a shame i couldn’t experience that chapter privately.”
nicholas leaned in to the point that your noses were almost touching.
“i’m sorry i spoiled it for you.” his gaze shifts between your eyes and awaiting lips. “how about i make it up by giving you that experience?”
you didn’t say another word, your fingers delicately caress the tanned skin of his jaw before you finally close the gap between your lips. nicholas wastes no time in fervently returning the kiss. his large hand slides up to your grasp on your neck to pull you closer. you whimpered out at the contact, resulting in nicholas to slide his tongue against yours. as they engaged in a dance, your hands found themselves messing through his chocolate tresses as his hands took a grip of your waist to effortlessly place you on his lap. he bucked his hips up towards your own, so that you could get a feel of his own arousal. you both groaned out due to the burning sensation before he pulled away from your lips to attack your neck as his hands descend to reward your ass with a tight squeeze.
“mmph, nicholas. please, i—i need you!”
your wish was his command. still with a firm grip on your ass, he gingerly places you down on your spine. nicholas’ eyes observed as your curls were sprawled on the floor with your bare half-lidded eyes glued to his face in desire. your now swollen, glossed lips were agape as you laid there with your legs spread wide awaiting for his next move. he could just cum at the sight alone. as much as he wanted to go all the way with you, he acknowledged that for the first of hopefully many times, you deserved better than being fucked on a floor, but he was going to fulfill his promise after spoiling your reading.
“as i much want to, i won’t fuck you because that’s not what was in the book, baby.” nicholas halted his speech and slid his hands to hike up your skirt to reveal your baby blue lace underwear that had a damp spot right in the middle. he was drunk with the scent of your arousal. “god, you’re soaked—i promise m’gonna make you feel good.” his palms caressed circles on your inner thighs. you whined, the pulsing ache within your pussy grew stronger the longer you didn’t feel his touch.
“i know, baby, i know, but whining won’t get you what you want. you gotta use your words. you want this?”
such a goddamn tease this man was, but it was so exhilarating seeing him in control like this.
“yes! yes, nicholas. fuck, i don’t want this. i need this. i need you—ngh!” before you knew it, your panties had been ripped. nicholas’ middle and index work in tandem, curling at your walls while his thumb made circles around your clit. nicholas was giving you the business like no other. you were a moaning mess and you were so glad no one came in at this time because it would’ve been a disaster, but that was the least of your worries when his fingers conducted a scissoring motion.
“you’re so tight. how’s that, baby? am i doing it just like the book or do i really need to make it up to you?” he questions over the soft sounds of squelching in the background, you struggle to speak as your hips start to buck up against his fingers.
“n-need y-your tongue. p-please, nicholas!”
he slid his fingers out of you, his free hand holds your head in place to watch him suck your arousal clean off. he hummed in satisfaction once he popped them from his mouth.
“fuck, you’re so right. i need to taste you. right fucking now.” he lowered his head between your legs, propping each one over his shoulders. you throw head back as his tongue laid flat against your clit in a long lick to savor the taste of your slick before his tongue moves like clockwork. your heels dig deeper within his broad shoulder blades while his tongue practically fucks you into an oblivion. if only your ex could see you now: getting it on with someone who was younger, hotter, and more appreciative of your presence. a wide toothy smile of satisfaction is etched on your face while your fingers grip onto his hair.
“mm, nick, baby. just like that…hah. such a good boy.”
that praise alone made him more relentless. nicholas’ hands pressed onto your thighs to spread them wider as he began to enclose his lips around the sensitive nub. he was giving it extra attention, so you could achieve the best fucking orgasm of your life. he was going to guarantee you weren’t going to runaway from it either, so he pressed your hips flat to the ground. with every suck, lick, and nibble he was giving, the hot ball of fiery pleasure within your abdomen began to expand. it was starting to be so much to handle because you can’t remember having it this good. your eyes peer down to see the dark, mischievous glint of nicholas’ eyes looking straight into yours.
“nicholas, hah. m’gonna cum…” you murmur, gently pushing his hair back.
with a quirk of his brow he raised his mouth briefly from your pussy,
“give me all you got, sweetheart.”
nicholas rasped, he then achieves the goal by digging his tongue inside while his thumb made rapid movements on your clit. within seconds, that lethal combination is what forces your legs to tremble as you finally erupt into your high, which gushes right onto nicholas’ face. you speech is slurred, mixed with swears, praises, and his name. his movements never slow down as he’s trying to catch every single drop. the experience was so intense, that you dazed out while catching your breath. as if it were like c.p.r., he comes out from between your legs and raises you upright to bring your lips together for another passionate kiss. his tongue brushes against yours, so that you could have what he’s been tasting. it was—sweet. sweet like the victory of getting your payback. your moment of internal gloating ceased when you heard nicholas’ voice.
“fuck, babe. look.”
“hm?” you questioned.
you match his gaze down to the hardwood floor to see a small puddle of what was obviously from your arousal. nicholas let out a chuckle of satisfaction.
“my little bookworm’s a squirter—hot.”
the heat of embarrassment rose on your face. you knew you felt the sensation of squirting, but damn it, now you had a mess to clean before continuing your weekend. still, you wouldn’t have had it any other way.
you got your groove back.
#black reader#nicholas alexander chavez x reader#nicholas chavez#nicholas alexander chavez#nicholas chavez x black reader#nicholas chavez x reader#nicholas chavez smut#nicholas chavez imagine#nicholas chavez x y/n#nicholas chavez x female reader#black!reader#90s au#x black!reader#x black reader#actor x black reader#actor x reader#black girl#bwwmromance
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Jegulus date - word count: 4k
Why did I agree to this again? Regulus questions himself as he follows James down the stairs leading from his apartment.
He’s spending the day with James Potter. The man he’s hated since for as long as he can remember.
After they make it downstairs, they wait while James calls them a ride. Regulus is tempted to ask where they’re going, but he sort of likes the idea of it being a surprise. Normally he hates surprises, but today is not a normal day. Regulus isn’t sure if he likes that or not.
The silence while they wait isn’t as unpleasant as Regulus expects it to be. He’s never been one to try and fill the silence, but he thought James would at least try to make small talk. The man normally never shuts up. However, he seems to be lost in thought at the moment. He’s staring into the distance with a faraway look. Regulus continues to stare at James, taking him in fully without the stress of having him look back. There are no words that need to be said at the moment.
Instead, a comfortable quiet fills the space between them. Regulus likes that he now knows that James has the ability to shut up on occasion. It’s easier to not be annoyed by him that way.
Their taxi arrives a little later, and it seems to snap James out of his thoughts. He turns to Regulus.
“Ready?” He asks, a gleeful look on his face.
Regulus gives a nod and starts forward. They take a taxi because he isn’t a fan of subways. They’re way too crowded, and if there’s ever an available seat, it’s covered in too many unidentifiable liquids.
Trying not to think about what sort of liquids the taxi seats have seen, he gets in and scoots over to leave some space. James sits a respectful distance away, which slightly offends Regulus. What’s so wrong with him that James wants to sit so far away? Not that Regulus wants him any closer. It’s just the semantics that upset him.
The car ride is silent on Regulus’ part. He looks out the window and certainly does not pout while James strikes up a conversation with the driver. Because of course he does. It turns out that they have quite a lot in common. They go to the same gym, enjoy the same movies, and like the same music. Regulus is then stuck listening to Kendrick Lamar's new album for the rest of the short ride. He debates opening the car door and jumping out onto the bustling street.
When they arrive at their destination, Regulus is actually a little impressed. They’re at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. Regulus has never been despite living in the city for a while now. He loves museums and art, but he usually tells himself he’s too busy to indulge himself like that.
He regrets not spending more time doing the things he loves. There are so many opportunities he’s missed that if he tried to count them, the day would be long over.
They both exit the taxi, and James refuses to let Regulus pay. James thanks the driver, who is now a new friend of his apparently, and then holds out his arms as if presenting a prize to Regulus on a game show.
“Ta-da!”
“It’s a museum,” Regulus states. He tries his best to sound unimpressed despite the excitement coursing through him.
“Yes, the best one in Boston! C’mon, it’s gonna be fun.” James skips ahead, genuinely skips, and Regulus wonders if he'll get arrested for assault if he hits James.
James comes back over and sees the unamused look on Regulus’ face. He smiles and ushers to the entrance. Regulus shakes his head but begins walking. James slows to match his pace, and Regulus purposefully ignores the fluttering feeling he gets.
They pay and enter the museum, going first to the large garden called the Courtyard. Regulus lets out a gasp when he sees it.
It’s one of the most beautiful gardens Regulus has ever seen. It’s overflowing with flowers and beautiful architecture. This is the kind of place he could sit for hours and forget the world.
“I love it,” he says aloud. He hadn’t meant to, but when James turns to him he keeps speaking despite himself. “I could stay forever and not worry about a thing.”
James nods along, looking out at the beautiful scenery. “I’d stay here forever with you if you’d let me,” he says, and surely Regulus misheard him. A moment later, James laughs awkwardly, and Regulus supposes he must have been making a joke.
James and his stupid jokes.
Regulus huffs before making his way to the closest room in the museum. It’s called the Macknight Room, and it’s full of wonderful artwork for Regulus to gawk at. He notices James enter behind him, but pays him no mind.
He looks at a lovely watercolor painting of the Grand Canyon. It astonishes him that there are such beautiful places in the world. It saddens him to think that he may never get to see them. Maybe he should be more like James and take time to enjoy things. However, the thought of being anything like James makes him feel a bit sick, so he decides to put a pin in the idea.
Eventually, he and James end up side by side again. James asks him a question about an object on the table in front of them, and Regulus decides to forgive him for his joke. He’s not got much time for grudge-holding today. He answers James’ question, then another, and another, not getting annoyed in the slightest. They begin to make their way through the museum, and it’s surprisingly Regulus who does most of the talking.
They see works by Rembrandt, Degas, and even Michaelangelo. Regulus finds himself enjoying the experience way too much. He keeps telling himself to calm down, it’s just a painting, or a sculpture, or a vase. He starts going on tangents to James about the artwork, and James seems content just to listen to him. Regulus is surprised he hasn’t asked him to shut up yet. He can get kind of annoying about art, as his friends have told him many times.
He interrupts himself in the middle of telling James about a painting by Rubens. “Sorry, I’m ranting again. You can tell me to stop talking, I know it’s probably annoying.”
James firmly shakes his head, surprising Regulus again. “You’re not annoying, Regulus. You’re just passionate. I like hearing you talk about art. Your face lights up when you do.”
Regulus can’t do anything about the blush that appears at that. He turns away quickly and avoids James for a little while.
They eventually make their way through almost the entire museum. The last room they visit is the Spanish Cloister. Regulus thinks this is one of his favorites. It has beautiful works by Sargent, Seville, and many talented others.
Regulus' favorite is one by John S. Sargent called El Jaleo. It depicts a performer dancing in a tavern with musicians playing for her in the background. Regulus likes it because he feels like he can relate to the woman dancing. She’s trapped in the painting, putting on a show for everyone for eternity. Regulus feels like his whole life has been one big performance. Performing for his parents, for strangers, for himself.
The painting is a myriad of colors and objects. There’s so much going on that it’s hard to figure out where to look. Regulus is drawn to the woman, however, and he wishes that she could curtsy so the show can be over.
James comes to stand next to him. “Do you like this one?”
It’s hard to find the words to describe how the painting makes him feel. He can only think of two words to say, but he knows they’re not enough.
“It’s beautiful,” Regulus whispers.
“Yes, it is,” James says back.
Regulus turns and is surprised to find James looking at him instead of the painting, another stupid smile on his face. He must have turned his head a split second before Regulus did. That’s the only explanation.
James is opening his mouth to speak, and Regulus waits with bated breath. He doesn’t know what he wants James to say, but he knows that he wants it to be something monumental.
“I’m glad you asked me to spend the day with you,” James says, and Regulus wants to take back his wish. James is so earnest too; Regulus knows he means what he says. He wants to tell James what he’s thinking, but that would involve being open with his feelings.
Regulus is a coward. He doesn’t respond. He turns away.
It’s silent, and then:
“Are you hungry?” James asks him for the second time that day. Before Regulus can answer, his stomach betrays him by growling. They both laugh. Regulus is learning that laughter can be nice sometimes.
“C’mon, I know a great place not too far from here.” He follows James out of the room, pausing to look at El Jaleo one last time.
The performer, stuck forever in a dance. He’s worried he can understand her a little too well.
He blinks away tears he didn’t realize had formed in his eyes and catches up to James. Look at him, getting emotional over a painting. It would make Sirius laugh.
Regulus hates to admit that he misses that laugh.
Once they’ve left the museum, they grab another taxi. This time, the ride isn’t silent and they keep a nice conversation going. They talk about their favorite things from the museum, and Regulus corrects James when he gets things wrong and laughs at James’ funny descriptions of the art. The ride seems to be over too quickly.
They both exit the taxi, James once again paying despite Regulus’ protests. He wants to tell James that he has the entire Black family inheritance burning a hole in his pocket, but he would probably just be laughed at.
They’ve been dropped off in front of a row of shops. James steps toward the one closest to them. Regulus pauses to take a look at it. The sign above the entrance reads Punjab Palace in bright red letters. James has brought him to an Indian food place. Regulus likes Indian food well enough; some of the dishes are too spicy for him as he grew up in a household where salt and pepper were oftentimes the only seasonings used. His spice tolerance is terrible, to say the least.
James turns to him, an anxious look on his face. “Are you okay with Indian food? If not, we can go somewhere else-”
“James, I’m good,” Regulus interrupts. He’s learning that James cares what people think entirely too much. “I’ve had it before, I like it. Calm down.” His words genuinely seem to calm James, and he smiles before walking to the entrance. Regulus follows him inside.
Once they're seated, he anxiously takes out his phone but doesn’t do anything more besides go to his home screen. He doesn’t know what to do with himself. He hates small talk but feels it’s what is expected when two people eat together. He waits for James to initiate the conversation.
“My parents used to bring me here when I was younger,” James says in a fond voice. Regulus is glad he’s with someone unafraid to speak. Regulus often feels like he’d rather die than say anything.
He nods along instead of speaking. He’s of the opinion that sometimes things people say don’t require a response from the listener, especially if there are no words that are meaningful enough. He supposes he could say “Oh, that’s cool” or “Nice”, but those aren’t big enough to say how he really feels. He wishes he had the words to say that he thinks that it’s amazing that James’ parents took him to such a cool place growing up, and it’s great that his parents are so nice and loving, and that he’s sad that he didn’t have any of that growing up but he’s happy for James at the same time. But he doesn't know how to say any of that. So he just nods instead.
James doesn’t seem to mind his nonverbal responses and continues to talk. “My mom likes things that remind her of home. Food, music, dancing. I used to love dancing with her when I was a kid.” Hearing James talk so fondly of his mother makes Regulus think of his own. She never danced with him or Sirius and was never kind. Regulus knows that she’s the main reason his brother ran away from home. He’s glad that Sirius was able to find a mother who is nice, even if it meant he was left alone with one who wasn’t.
“She sounds lovely,” Regulus says. She sounds like everything a mother should be. Everything Regulus isn’t.
“She is. She’s the best.” He then says something Regulus isn’t expecting. “You should meet her someday. I think you guys would get along.”
Regulus is surprised that James thinks he should meet his mother. He doesn’t think James likes him all that much. So to suggest that he meet Euphemia Potter is a little strange. And how does James know they’d get along anyway? He barely knows anything about Regulus.
Before Regulus can respond, a waiter arrives to greet them. When the waiter asks what they’d like to drink, James orders something called a mango lassi while Regulus plays it safe and gets a Diet Coke. James also asks for some saag tikki and garlic naan, and the waiter hurries off to put in their order.
“I’m excited for you to try some of this food. Growing up, this was my equivalent to McDonald’s.” Regulus sort of understands the reference; he was never allowed fast food growing up. He supposes his version of McDonald’s would be when he and Sirius would stay with their Uncle Alphard when they were young. He would make them delicious foods their parents wouldn’t let them have otherwise.
It’s then that the waiter comes back with their drinks and appetizers. Regulus mentally applauds the fast service. The waiter asks if they're ready to order, and Regulus panics and picks his menu up. James thankfully orders first, giving Regulus time to scan. When the waiter turns to him, he orders chicken tikka masala because it’s the only dish he recognizes. He’s had it before and liked it, so it’s the safest option.
The waiter leaves again, and a silence ensues. Regulus sips his coke while James has some of his mango drink. James lets out a sound that’s entirely too close to a moan for Regulus’ liking. He shoots James an offended look.
“Sorry,” James says, not looking sorry at all. Honestly, doesn’t he know better than to make noises like that? Someone could get the wrong idea. “I just haven’t had one of these in forever and I forgot how good it is.”
Regulus rolls his eyes. “That doesn’t give you an excuse to moan like you’re in a cheap porno,” he says, then immediately regrets it when he sees a glint in James’ eye.
“I bet you’d love-” James is interrupted by Regulus throwing a piece of naan at his face. This effectively shuts him up.
“Do not finish that sentence.” James looks at Regulus with a shocked expression. He clearly didn’t expect to have a piece of bread thrown at him.
“I can’t believe you just threw naan at me.” James sounds offended, but Regulus can tell he’s only joking from the look on his face. He proceeds to pick up the naan that had fallen onto the table after it smacked his forehead and eat it.
“I would have thrown my knife at you, but I’m a gentleman.” James lets out a loud laugh at that.
“Regulus Black, you are full of surprises.” Regulus doesn’t believe that. He’s very predictable. He always has a snide comment or sarcastic remark, and his smiles are almost never present. He can always be counted on to bring reality to someone’s wild dreams and keep them from making rash decisions. So yes, he’s predictable, but he likes that James doesn’t see him that way. He likes that he sees him as a mystery to solve, something that has hidden answers. He then wonders why he likes that it’s James who sees him that way before clearing that thought away. That was dangerous territory.
James takes another sip of his drink, this time behaving himself for Regulus’ benefit. “This was my favorite drink as a kid.” He pushes the glass toward Regulus. “Here, try it.” He takes a cautious sip and is surprised to find that it tastes good. It’s not like anything he’s had before, but he likes it nonetheless.
“I like it,” Regulus tells James as he slides the drink back. This makes James happy. He’s too easy to please.
They make small talk while they wait, but it’s not as painful as Regulus expects it to be. James is a pro at keeping the conversation flowing, and Regulus realizes that he’s actually enjoying himself. He never expected that to happen with James in close vicinity, let alone him being the one to make Regulus happy. Today has to be the strangest day ever.
The waiter brings out their food while they’re in the middle of a debate over whether cereal is a soup. It was starting to get a little heated, so the food came out at a great time.
James starts in on his chicken curry and Regulus can smell the spices from it across the table. He takes a small bite of his own food, and his eyes widen. It’s amazing. He starts eating and doesn’t stop until the whole plate is empty.
He looks up to see that James devoured his food as well. They both seem to be amused at their eagerness. The food was just too delicious to do anything other than savor it.
The waiter comes to clear the empty plates, taking the credit card James hands over.
“I could have paid,” Regulus says, but James waves him off.
“I suggested we come here and you trusted me. It’s on me today.” Regulus nods in thanks. The waiter comes back with their receipt, but neither one stands to go.
“Do you-”
“Are we-”
They both pause when they begin speaking at the same time.
“You first,” James laughs.
“I was just going to ask if you still wanted to spend the day together. Don’t feel obligated to say yes.”
“I was just about to ask the same thing,” James says with a grin. “I’m having fun, so why stop here?” Regulus' stomach does something funny that he ignores.
“Yeah. Why stop here?” Regulus repeats. They stare at each other then. It feels important, and monumental. Then James looks away, and the moment ends.
“Time for dessert,” He announces.
“James, I’m so full. I don’t think I can manage dessert.” Regulus feels ready to burst. He hasn’t had a good meal in forever.
James stands from his chair. “The place I have in mind is about thirty minutes away, so I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
“Thirty minutes?” Regulus says as he stands. He embarrassingly stumbles a bit. James reaches out a hand to help, but Regulus just glares at it until he retracts it. “Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.” Hasn't this whole day been one big surprise?
Another taxi. Another drive. Regulus is noticing a pattern to the day. James leads and he follows. He just hopes he’s not led in the wrong direction.
They pass a sign on the way that states they’ve left the city. Regulus looks at their surroundings and realizes where they’re going.
“Why are we going to Cambridge?” He questions James.
James only shrugs nonchalantly. “You asked me to show you my favorite places.”
“Yeah, in Boston,” Regulus deadpans. He’s not sure he wants to go cross-country with James. They’d argue over the music playing in the car and inevitable crash or something.
James refuses to give him any more answers. Regulus is stubborn and tries his best though. He’s realizing James may be almost as stubborn as he is, which is going to be a problem if they continue arguing.
Regulus amuses himself by looking out the window. He’s always loved car rides. It’s nice to look at the scenery as they pass by. It makes him think about how big the world is and how small he is in comparison. Most would find that thought scary, but Regulus finds comfort in it. It reminds him that everything he does is insignificant and won’t matter one day, so he has all the freedom in the world.
They eventually make it further into Cambridge, and the taxi stops. They have arrived outside of an ice cream shop. Regulus loves ice cream, but there’s no way James knew that. It’s just a happy coincidence.
“Ice cream is my favorite,” Regulus admits to James as they hop in line to wait.
“Yeah, you mentioned it before, so I thought I’d show you my favorite ice cream shop.”
Regulus is confused. “When did I tell you I like ice cream?”
James laughs. “You didn’t tell me. I overheard you say it to Remus a few months back.” With that, he turns to look at the flavors on display.
Regulus doesn’t know what to think. It’s thoughtful that James remembered something he said from months ago. Too thoughtful for two people who are supposed to hate each other. Regulus wants to know what else James knows about him. He also wants to learn more about James.
He’s terrible at this whole hatred thing.
When it’s their turn, James orders a double dip of a strange flavor called Passion Fruit Caramel. When Regulus makes a face, James laughs and explains that he’s on a mission to try all the different flavors the shop offers, and that this is the only one they’re offering today that he’s yet to try.
He thinks that it’s a very James thing to do.
Regulus once again plays it safe and orders a single dip of Burnt Caramel. He wasn’t allowed to have very many sweets when growing up, so now as an adult, he attempts to make up for his loss by eating sweet things whenever he can.
Regulus manages to pay for his ice cream even though James insists, and they take their cups outside. There are benches lined along the sidewalk and they have a seat. Regulus notices that James sits a little closer than he did in the taxi from earlier.
James has some of his, making sure to let Regulus and all the passerby know how good it is by the sounds he makes. They are thankfully more PG this time.
Regulus excitedly takes a bite of his and has to force himself not to spit it back out. It’s bitter and not at all how he expects it to taste. He swallows quickly and wishes he had something to get the taste out of his mouth. He sticks his tongue out like a toddler without thinking about it, wanting anything to make the flavor go away.
“Everything okay?” It seems James has noticed his distress. Great.
“No,” Regulus answers petulantly. “It’s bitter and doesn’t taste good.” He gets up to throw the ice cream away in the nearest trash can. He comes back to where James is sitting, mood effectively ruined because of some stupid dessert.
James looks sympathetic. “Have some of mine.” He holds his cup out but Regulus hesitates. “Tastes good, promise.” James sounds so genuine that Regulus really has no choice. He once again attempts to be brave and tries a small bite. James isn’t lying; it tastes delicious. It’s slightly tart from the passion fruit but the sweet caramel balances it well. It’s also super creamy and one of the best things Regulus has ever tasted. He takes another, bigger bite and has to hold back a delighted groan.
The small kindness goes a long way. Regulus is still trying to decipher the mystery that is James Potter. The man is choosing to spend time with him even though he’s been cruel to him, and now he’s sharing his very tasty ice cream when he’s not obligated to. Regulus tries to think of words big enough to encompass his gratitude but falls short. He can really only think of two words to say, and he hopes they’re enough.
“Thank you,” Regulus whispers. It’s probably the nicest thing he’s ever said to James. It makes the man smile, and Regulus decides he may have to make a habit of being nicer to James. Where before he found the smiles quite annoying, looking at it now, it was actually really pleasant to look at. James' smile lights up his whole face. It’s as if there’s this constant joy inside him that’s ready to burst at any moment. Now that joy is directed at Regulus, just because of two small words he said.
And then Regulus does something very unexpected.
For once, he smiles back.
#marauders era#jegulus#jegulus fic#regulus black#james potter#marauders#marauders fandom#starchaser#sunseeker#james x regulus#james loves regulus#if you know this is a repost shhhhh#did I write 4k of Regulus and James traveling around Boston?#yes and what about it#art makes me feral
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These glasses making Zayne to remember Zack 🥹❤️
I think it's especially endearing to me cause when Zack at first was introduced, it was as a troublesome patient. However, when Zayne entered the room and calmed him down, it was easy to realize that Zack only felt alone and needed someone to treat him with humanity.
The nurses and other doctors got kinda scared at his outburst that their first reaction was to tie him up to try to take back the access card he was trying to swallow. He just needed someone to talk to, to pass the time with, so Zayne not only showed his commitment by talking to him with calm but also coming to the hospital to play chess with him on his day off.
We constantly talk about how Zayne saves lifes, but we don't talk enough how it's always mentioned that his patients love him. He treats them with so much patience and humanity cause let's remember that being in a hospital is for the most cases a sad or exasperating experience.
Zayne spending time with Zack because he felt alone, Zayne softening his voice to try to comfort Taniah with so much tenderness, the way he's been voted the favorite Doctor by most patients, the way it's mentioned most patients follow his orders, the way even the kids are so comfortable around him to draw him laying on the grass and also asking him to peel apples for them.
We also knew that he liked animals but with his last solo banner event we just learned how much he likes them, to the point of getting ready as if he was going to meet another person, studying what to do in order to treat them correctly or not doing or give something to them that could be bad for their health.
It makes sense that he's a Doctor and even in battle his skills are more for support and healing. It's not in his nature to hurt others (even if he can clearly do so) and when he has done it, it's been bc he was asked to and bc it was a mercy kill (William). He's obssesed about saving lifes that I can only think how devastating having to kill William was for him, even if he didn't show it.
(Kinda want to read a fic where Dr Noah comforts him after losing William 😭).
The way he values life and respects its course is something that I appreciate deeply.
I think his first anecdote it's a good example of what it's like getting to know Zayne. John was pretty scared about him and most players also misjudged him as "cold" and "doesn't care about MC" initially. But paying attention to these details, you could clearly see how much tenderness and consideration he holds for other living beings (He's even a plants man!).
They say good things don't come easy, so I knew that it would take some time for Zayne to loosen up, but that didn't really mean that he was cold or uninterested in MC. Even to these days, I still laugh whenever he roasts MC or me (cause sometimes when he roasts her, it's about things it's easy to relate to, like sleeping late ahaha).
But my initial point is: I love the way the devs have put special care in show his humanity. He's not overly kind to the point of looking fake, neither heartless. He's patient, he shows his concern sometimes in a sweet way and sometimes in a way that can be annoying for the patient (like MC or that Hunter that was being a specially difficult patient in one Zayne's anecdotes). Zayne is good at doing lots of things but his weakness are carrots, he's always telling MC to follow doctors orders but he easily says "Doctors exaggerate all the time" when you play the same cards on him. He's so etheral and at the same time so human too, and I love that of him. His little sins are what make him so endearing.
I love that he mentions Zack in the café and the devs deliberately made him show a kinda sad or concerned face when he mentions him. He doesn't complain, doesn't mention Zack's childish tantrums.
I think one of my strongest obssesions about him being kind and patient as a Doctor is that I live in a country where the medical sector is not given enough resources to work properly so the medical staff most cases gets underpaid, ends up exhausted and lose sensitivity when treating patients. Being a Doctor is not easy, we all know it but Zayne has never made it a problem for him to treat everyone with the respect (for their life and autonomy) that they deserve.
Of course, it's way too easy to be like that in fiction. But it's so comforting and ngl sometimes when my patience is running thin, I just think I'd like to be just as kind and patient as Zayne.
(Side note but Zayne decided to wear the butler kitty costume again lol he's trying so hard for me to like this card xD).
#love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#zayne#lads zayne#l&ds zayne#l&ds#lnds#love and deepspace zayne
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So, I have this wacky Javert & Cosette detective agency AU idea that I’ll probably never write…
Post-Seine Javert starts a private detective agency — reuniting loved ones, shutting down extortion rackets, stopping forced marriages, things like that. He doesn’t make any money because he fails to collect payment on the rare occasion he’s not working pro bono. [Very Angel Investigations, sans vampires … unless?] The work is both penance and its own reward.
Bored of social calls and society dinners, Cosette decides to help him in his work. Javert refuses her, but she keeps showing up. She proves herself useful, as no one ever suspects her of being a double agent, she’s clever, and she can cry on command — which is an incredibly effective distraction. Since Paris’s underworld is already familiar with him from his previous profession, Javert has had difficulty making progress on some of his cases. But Cosette is entirely unknown. Grudgingly, he allows her to help on his smallest, safest, most respectable cases. Which rapidly escalates into her running the place. He’s really not an ideas man.
There are capers! Escapades! Daring rescues! A heart-warming Christmas episode!
Valjean and Marius are given to believe that Cosette’s time is spent volunteering with ladies aid societies. When the truth comes out, Valjean is apoplectic, and it’s the first real risk to his relationship with Javert (well, post Seine, haha), especially when Javert makes it Cosette’s choice whether to continue. Marius’s anger burns out much quicker; that boy is nothing if not easily led.
Meanwhile, Montparnasse has filled the leadership vacuum left by Thénardier and has made great inroads in the Parisian organized crime scene. With Javert foiling many of his more lucrative business interests, Montparnasse decides it’s time to deal with with him more permanently...
Other odds and ends for this ‘verse:
Javert accidentally adopts some urchins when he attempts to cultivate them as informants, but they keep showing up like stray cats when they realize he’ll feed them.
Having heard it in her tenderest years, Cosette quickly picks up the accent and argot of the street and becomes a mistress of disguise.
She also purchases an umbrella with a stiletto hidden in the handle, which she mostly uses to underline her better rhetorical flourishes.
Whilst Javert is not an easy man to like, Cosette appreciates his honesty. Granted, that honesty is couched in the most pessimistic, condescending and insulting way imaginable. But after her father and her husband gaslighting her for years, it’s a relief to not second guess the information someone gives her.
They both appreciate having someone to commiserate about Jean Valjean’s idiosyncrasies with. “You know the way he clears his throat when he disapproves, but won’t say he disapproves — and if you ask him if he disapproves, he’ll deny it?” “I know it very well!”
After Jean Valjean is finished being furious, he moves right on into being jealous. He wanted them to get along, but not quite this well. He of course would rather eat glass than admit it.
Also, as many of les amis survive as I can reasonably get away with. Definitely Courfeyrac, because I like him. Probably Bahorel, in case they need some additional muscle when working a case. And Joly because they’d need someone with a medical background to identify the cause of death/provide medical aid. Also no one should die with a cold, talk about insult to injury.
Anyhoo. Everybody lives happily ever after with a gentle ’90s TV glow. Fuck you, Victor-Marie Hugo.
#I just think Cosette & Javert would be a very interesting dynamic#cosette#javert#les miserables#les mis
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Something I think a lot of trans men need to understand is that the reason that transandrophobia isn’t real isn’t because trans men don’t experience transphobia. It’s because transandrophobia is an inherently nonsensical term.
Transmisogyny is not “transphobia that trans women experience that trans men don’t”. Transmisogyny is the intersection of transphobia and misogyny, and also the idea that trans women can experience misogyny while not being perceived as “fully women.”
There is no such thing as androphobia. There is to an extent a phenomenon in queer spaces specifically where masculinity is put down or feared, however this is not something that happens in wider society and I believe that that is a separate conversation to be had.
People are not saying that trans men don’t experience transphobia (at least not the vast majority of people. I’m sure, because this is tumblr, you could find someone saying that, but that is not what the vast majority of people are saying and if you think that it is, check your reading comprehension).
All of the things that I have seen people claim are “transandrophobia” are actually things that still come from some type of misogyny.
Trans men have trouble accessing reproductive health care because “women’s health clinics” are seen as places that need to be protected from men. (Or possibly because they are not seen as deserving that care, which would just be transphobia)
Trans men have trouble accessing gender affirming care because they are being seen as women who are therefore baby making machines, and most gender affirming care for trans men will affect your fertility.
Trans men are less respected than cis men because they are seen as women.
Trans men are seen as “delusional women” because of misogyny.
You are not experiencing “transandrophobia” you are experiencing misogyny.
I do think that there is a conversation to be had here. However I think that transandrophobia being used as a term to describe these things muddies the waters and ignores A.) what transmisogyny is and B.) the fact that what we are experiencing still come from bigotry against women, not bigotry against masculinity (as the term transandrophobia would imply).
I would also like to say that a lot of trans men need to get more comfortable with the fact that, when you pass, you do have privilege!
I am a trans man who is about 1 year on T, has long hair, hasn’t had top surgery, and has what would often be considered effeminate mannerisms and speech patterns. I pass about half the time at best and when I do pass, I’m more often passing as a faggot than as a man (which are often different categories).
My access to male privilege is restricted. Similarly to how men of other minorities’ (men of color, disabled men, gay men) access to male privilege is restricted*. But this doesn’t mean that I never experience male privilege. I do! When I pass, I experience male privilege.
You having access to male privilege doesn’t make you a bad person. It doesn’t mean you never experience bigotry. And it doesn’t mean you should feel bad about being a man.
It does mean, however, that you may need to check yourself sometimes. Make sure you’re not playing in to toxic masculinity as a way to affirm your gender. Make sure you’re not speaking over women.
I don’t have a good way to end this. But I guess my point is that, while there is a conversation to be had about the type of transphobia trans men specifically experience, I do not think that calling it “transandrophobia” is helping the conversation at all. And also trans men need to remember that they are not immune to being men. Just because your access to male privilege is restricted does not mean that you will never experience it.**
*obviously all these minorities have their access to male privilege restricted in different ways but the concept is the same.
**even if you are a trans man who never plans to go on T, never plans to have surgeries, and will likely never pass, my point first point about the term transandrophobia not making sense still stands.
#ok I think with the two footnotes I managed to cover the two misinterpretations that would happen the most on this post#I’m sure people will still misunderstand what I’m saying but one can only do so much in one post on the internet#screaming into the void#transandrophobia#transphobia#transmisogyny#kinda scared to post this but whatever#I’ve been thinking about this for forever and I’ve gotta get it out
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That post about an apparent social transition in college is just in absolute bad faith. To claim that Gerard lived as a woman in college but only had to stop because ‘she’ had to get a job completely distorts the facts that us mcr fans know. All Gerard said was this: ‘Really, I would do what I did when I dressed in drag this one time before. I went to school in drag, in art school and my day was completely different because everybody thought I was a chick’. Long time mcr fans like us know the facts, but new fans don’t, and girlgerard is quite literally lying to new fans because constructing Gerard as a trans woman gives them some weird pleasure. Mobilising accusations of transphobia towards anyone who doesn’t agree is also in such bad faith. It’s just completely moving the goal posts - people criticise them for being insensitive to trans people and intrusive towards gerard, they throw out the transphobe accusations. That way they can deflect from their own transphobia that manifests in transvestigating and fetishising trans women and gnc men. And most fundamentally of all - most people are not denying that gerard may be trans feminine. Girlgerard sees challenges to their transvestigating as trying to make Gerard cis in a transphobic way. But the actual fact of the matter is we respect Gerard. If Gerard came out as trans tomorrow we’d love and support them. Girlgerard on the other hand has no respect for Gerard. Rant over
AMEN!!!! literally when i read that tweet i was like...where did you come up with this information. bc yes i KNOW the interview in question, we all do. to construct your own truth that gerard lived as a woman in college for an 'undisclosed period of time' like. thats fake 😭 but of course its something that people who do not know all the lore will just eat right up as fact.
also them saying that he/they are not real pronouns that real people use and continue to use is craaaazy and yes literally transphobic.
also i like really can relate to gerard and the things hes said about not really subscribing or relating to masculinity in the same way that i feel about femininity. i keep my hair buzzed and i dont wear skirts or dresses but i still wear makeup and that like. is just who i am. the same way gerard can wear skirts and dresses and makeup and also like suits or jeans and his fucking green jackets. i will not attempt to label him because thats LITERALLY the problem here but like. idk it just overall gives off the vibe that they dont see nuance in gender...if gerard is not a man then he must be a woman?? its like were going back in time here.
and also btw yes of course. if gerard ever came out i would be so supportive and loving as always. if people close to gerard started using different pronouns we would follow suit. its just that simple. if those things never happen please just leave gerard alone and let them do whatever they want!
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Blue Canvas of Youthful Days: We’re Entering the Spiral
As much as I really enjoyed episode 9, it’s clear that we’re about to face some big problems. I am holding out hope that they have a plan, but they set up some pretty worrisome flags.
First, they flagged possible multi-year separation. The introduction of Qi Lu’s friend and mom to provide an out of country outlet from the violence of the dad worries me, especially because they showed us a really beautiful future where our leads are pursuing their creative endeavors during the day and enjoying their romance at night. Like so many decisions with this show, it feels like a tactical choice to make sure some version of happiness reaches the audience.
Then, they introduce Lao Liu’s friend, who read that man for filth, read him for blood, in five minutes. We got to see Liu run around after Tan Lin. I kinda laughed during their little romantic montage because it made me think of the Gay Love Montage from Shelter (2007).
Third, they had Xiao Rui serve as the first person in their immediate circle react to their relationship with essentially, “I am not a villain,” feels so pointed. That actress is also a producer on this show, and I really respect her putting her face on her work and saying tot he camera that she is here for people like us. I don’t know what may come of the end of this because of some of the domestic challenges their facing, but I will remember how I felt in that moment when her character said that she would sort her own romantic disappointment privately and not make it a burden for the gays. Someone is going for the Yihwa Best Girl Award.
Fourth, the mom. Of all the pieces this episode, this felt the most rushed. I was chatting with @lurkingshan after the episode about how effectively this landed, and I feel like they perhaps forced this resolution a bit. I enjoyed seeing Qi Lu say something to her that had clearly been sitting in his soul, but it’s clear we don’t have enough time in this show to save their eventual reconciliation for a future scene. With Qi Lu intimating that the dad might kill him, I’m hoping they introduced her to the screen as a release valve for the dad blowing up when our boys are inevitably outed.
Finally, Qi Lu’s friend is well meaning and supportive, but kind of a dumbass about the documentary he’s making. They walked into gang territory with a camera and are going to get hurt. I’m glad the gang plot has merged into the main drama so it doesn’t feel wasted, but after dealing with the Unknown roulette earlier this year, I am not keen on more gang violence on gays. Still, I like the polite way told Qin Xiao he was on their side, and I really loved Qi Lu teasing Qin Xiao about his jealousy.
You can tell they had a lot of ground to cover in this episode to set up their final arc, because we had so little time with the art classes, and we didn’t see Turtle at all. I’m a bit sad that we didn’t see him this week, because I was hoping he’d come through for our boys when shit hits the fans. I’m hoping that because they still mentioned him this week he’ll have his moment. I have my fingers crossed that this show doesn’t gut us, but I am doing to keep in my heart the clear signs from this show that they do care about us.
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Clueless caretaker
Dylan gets sick, the most serious Rip has seen him be. Emeto warning.
"Are you upset?" Rip said hesitantly. He was sitting in the armchair opposite the sofa where Dylan was sprawled on and felt weirdly like before a recieving a judgement.
Dylan sighed, hanging his head back on the armrest. "Look, man, I'm not upset. It's just...you were so freaked out about becoming the Executioner in summer-"
"Apprentice. I would just work as his apprentice."
"And now you are all down with it? Excuse me, if I'm a little confused." Dylna curled up around his side, an uncharacteristic frown on his face.
"It's just a job." Rip got up, fighting the urge to pace. "It's gonna give me direction and a place." He pulled out Isaiah's credit card from his pocket. "I can't be freeloading around for nothing forever." He already felt better agreeing, knowing these expanses, this apartment, the clothes on his back and food in the fridge would be his contribution too.
"You totally can. Watch me and learn," Dylan grumbled unhappily, closing his eyes.
"Dude, it's like 11 o'clock. Why are you so sleepy?" Rip said, eyeing the other wolf.
"Too many heavy decisions," Dylan said. Then he opened his eyes and forced up a grin at Rip's expression. "Jeez, it's not because of you, don't worry."
"I'm not worried," Rip said petulantly. "I'll fix you something to eat and then we could go to the underground gym together, yeah?"
Dylan turned his back to him, face to the sofa. "What, Isaiah is on vocation today?"
Rip didn't wait for assent, going to the kitchen island where he would have just as a good view of Dylan as in the living room. "They have some kind of pack event today. All three of them together. It's in Salzburg so it's gonna be a whole day trip."
"Look at how well informed you are. Assistant in full power."
"It's Executioner's Apprentice. And it's a pretty respected position, thank you." Rip rolled his eyes and began heating the milk for a improptu porridge. He already ate in the morning, but Dylan didn't and porridge with cocoa was his weak spot in-between all the shakes and meat.
"You sure you are not just doing it out of desperation? Why do you suddenly like Isaiah so much?"
Rip prepared the flour, eyes flickering towards Dylan. "It only took a few dozens of killing attempts, a few months of dedicated training and impossible patience and giving me a way out that doesn't involve the streets," he said jokingly.
"See? Desperation and inherit power disbalance."
"Power disbalance? You have been watching some weird Tiktaks again."
"TikTok. It's TikTok. And what do you mean I can't sound all high and educated? You try listening to my sister for a few minutes and you be spewing out new words too."
"Her talking always puts you to sleep," Rip objected.
"It worms its way into your subconsciousness," Dylan said, crossing his arms on his chest.
Rip shook his head, adding the flour to the boiling milk and big spoons of sugar. "You got some kind of beef with Isaiah I don't know of?"
"There is no beef, Jesus...." Dylan's voice trailed off into grunts, something about everyone being stolen away.
Rip stirred the porridge fondly. It wasn't like he could afford to get away with the same things as Dylan, but it was heartwarming to have someone so concerned about his wishes and wants.
When the porridge, butter and cocoa was ready, it wasn't hard to coax Dylan into relaxing and eating. Rip was about to call it a win, when Dylan's pace slowed down considerably and he wasn't even halfway done.
"What's wrong? Still too hot in the middle?" Rip asked, standing over Dylan's spot on the sofa.
Dylan stirred the porridge. "Nah, man, it's great. Really, thanks." As if to disapprove his words, he put the plate down on the table and curled back up on the sofa. His eyes were drooping.
"This is getting weird," Rip complained, looking him up and down.
"I'm feeling a little off, that's all," Dylan said, closing his eyes. "Go to the gym without me today."
"Did you play Xbox till 3 am again?"
"No, I didn't," Dylan stuck out his tongue at him. "Swear. Your sleep's too sensitive anyway, you hear the grass growing—how would I get away with a game?"
But Dylan was usually a ball of energy. Being sleepy this late in the day, no jumping, training or bouncing on his feet?
"I'm just gonna get a nap, 's all." Dylan hugged himself around the chest, knees tucked close. "Go, you are all needles to get out of the place."
That was true, but Rip wasn't about to admit it now that he got a hunch something was wrong.
Dylan sighed at Rip's undecision and grabbed his hand, pushing it against his forehead. "Here. See for yourself. Do I seem feverish to you?"
Rip's eyes narrowed as he tried to focus. "It's warm, but I don't really know when it's normal and when not. Do we have a thermometer?"
"Nope. Only that handgun thing that doesn't work. Mom promised to give me one of those real ones that work, but I forgot it at her place." The brown-haired boy wiggled his head against the cushion, eyes closing again, but he didn't look peaceful.
"I'm gonna ask Seline if- damn, they aren't home." Rip ran a hand through his hair. "Do you have a key to their place?"
"Can I have one?"
Rip threw out his hands. "How should I know?"
"We can get inside with the shadows."
"Yeah, I'm gonna be breaking into the Executioner's place, sure. No, thanks." Rip didn't know how he got into Isaiah's good graces, but he wasn't going to risk losing them. "What else is there that I can do?"
"Go to the pharmacy?" Dylan shrugged, then winced and added quickly: "Hey, that's not needed though, right? Plus, if I need something, I can get it, it's just a block away."
Rip turned away, painfully reminded that going to the pharmacy was beyond his limit of abilities. He could keep his cool around Isaiah's pack, even Hector and Arnie, so people he knew. Heck, he could probably manage around wolves pretty well now.
But around humans? That was still too risky and got his shadow going in an ugly way.
A pang of shame went through his ribs at the thought he couldn't even go and buy Dylan medicine if he needed it.
"Forget it, man, I just need to sleep it off."
...
Rip didn't end up going to the gym, instead working out on the trapeze stick that they installed together in the hallway.
He wanted to keep an eye on Dylan. The guy was so whiny for every single thing, and so loud and filling the room, that this quiet was setting off all the red lights in Rip's head.
Which was ridiculous. Were they on the streets, fever wouldn't even be something to speak about. Rip would opt to walk it off.
These city pups were so fragile, for real. His old self would have said that. Heck, his mind was still saying it.
So why was he so restless?
Attuned to all the little sounds of the apartment, cleaning up the floor and the dust for the seventh time...
So he could tell the exact moment when things started to get worse.
Dylan was groaning in his sleep. He was curling up on himself, so Rip covered him with a blanket. It was twisted in his grip and he was positively sweating, hair all matted and dark.
Rip crouched down next to him, wrecking his brain on what he knew about treating fevers and human kids.
Dylan groaned again, his eyes opening to slits. "Oh hey..."
"You are feeling worse, aren't you?" Rip said instead of a hello.
Dylan shrugged, corner of his Rip twitching. "Don't look so serious." He frowned, wrapping his hands around his stomach. "Damn, I'm freezing."
"It's warm here."
"For real, I bet I can see my breath."
Rip pushed his sweaty hair out of his forehead. "I think frying an egg on your cheek temp counts as fever. Tell me what to do."
Dylan looked at him dizzyly, like he needed time to process to question. Looking at him this close, Rip noticed the pallor of his skin, the shadows growing under his eyes like bruises.
"Maybe some water?" he croaked.
Rip nodded and almost jumped over the kitchen island in his hurry to get a glass of cool water.
Dylan climbed up into a seated position with difficulty, his hands shaking. Rip held the glass to his lips.
Halfway through Dylan coughed and gagged, the last mouthful of the water gurgling back up into the glass.
"Goddammit, sorry-"
"It's fine," Rip assured, bringing the glass away. "Nausous?"
Dylan grimaced. "Stomach hurts. The porridge's been sitting there like a ton of bricks."
"Is this from the fever or is the fever a symptom of a stomach flu? How does it work?"
Dylan let out a giggle that turned into a cough and another gag. He pressed his hand against his mouth, breathing deeply to fight off the nausea. "Don't know. It doesn't really matter, does it?"
"I guess not." Rip shook himself internally, getting to his feet. "This is nothing. You will sleep this off in half a day. Go back to sleep."
They were not going to be panicking over a fever. He knew how whiny and dramatic Dylan could be. Better not take him seriously.
Dylan didn't whine though. He just nodded, pulling the blanket up to his chin and curled back up on the pillow with a shiver.
Rip stayed at his side, braced on the armrest. This time when Dylan woke up, gagging and heaving, he was prepared with a trashcan.
"Here, here, here." Rip held the bucket under his chin as Dylan's body rolled with heaves. He burped several times, bringing up a mouthful of white chunks. There was a dark map of sweat on his shirt, front and back.
Dylan coughed, stomach spasming. He wiggled out of the blanket, throwing his feet over the rim. "Need to- should go-"
Rip slid to the seat next to him. "Where should you go? Hey, trashcan is right here."
"Gonna make a mess- you don't like-"
"Sheesh, forget about that. I got you covered." Rip's voice softened. "You don't need to get up for this."
Dylan looked at him with a deeply set frown of confusion then nodded. There were exactly three seconds of peace before Dylan's body jerked forward and he was coughing up more creamy vomit.
Rip pulled the trashcan into Dylan's lap to catch the most of it, but some dribbled down his chin and down on his shirt.
Dylan was positively glowing with heat, all red in the cheeks, from the fever or the strain, Rip wasn't sure.
Rip rubbed his back as Dylan burped emptily over the trashcan, eyes all watery and glistening.
Dylan fell right back down onto the pillow. Rip fetched him another shirt and manhandled his limp form into a fresh one. The sick wolf was still shivering, although he was sweating like he got from a pouring rain.
Rip did the reasonable thing and tried to call. Isaiah first, then Seline. His phone and then Dylan's in case they didn't want to take his calls.
But no one was picking up. Jeez, did they not have signals at wolf meets or what?
He was pacing around the living room. Going through the cabinets didn't reveal any medications aside some lollipops for strep throat and aloe vera spray.
Why was it such a problem to go fucking shopping?
Of course it was a problem. Rip had money of his own since like last week. And he couldn't go somewhere with people, his shadow would freak out...
"Rip..."
The voice got his attention at once and Rip hurried to crouch by Dylan's side. "Yeah? I'm right here."
"My hands are burning..."
"Huh? What do you mean?" Rip grabbed for Dylan's hands under the blanket, turning it palm up to examine it. "It's not burning, it's okay-"
Then he noticed it. Red little bumps on the inside of his hands, like a rash, starting on his palms and continuing up to his elbwos.
"What are those things?" Dylan sounded more distressed and alert than when he was throwing up, voice going all choked up.
"Ehhh those...I'm sure it's nothing, D. I'm gonna look it up, okay?"
Dylan looked so close to tears Rip hesitated to get up. He reached for Dylan's phone instead and then climbed onto the sofa so he could hold Dylan in his lap.
"They say some infections and high fevers can cause hives..."
Dylan pressed his head against Rip's middle, clutching his hands to his chest. "I don't want them-"
"Shhhhh. They will go away on their own as the fever goes down. You got some nasty little virus that's all."
Dylan's lips were trembling. "They itch. Make them go away."
Rip sighed, experimentally touching Dylan's forehead. God, he was really burning up. He let his fingers linger, petting his hair. "It's gonna be okay, D. Relax. This is nothing."
"They are so ugly," Dylan whined, burying his face deeper into Rip's stomach.
Rip almost burst into a hysterical laugh. "Man, that's truly the least of our problems."
Dylan sobbed quietly, and Rip winced, wrapping his hands around the other boy and pulling him close. "Shhhhh. They are not, they are not. Hey. Stop that."
Dylan groaned, then looked up at Rip with wet lashes. "Isn't it disgusting?"
Rip screwed up his face. He had seen many many ugly and disgusting things, infected wounds, horrible burns, heck, the bitemarks lining up his own arms and neck...he was genuinely too desynthesized.
"No, I swear it's not, D. You couldn't be disgusting if you tried." He leaned over Dylan, combing his hair back. "See? Wouldn't be touching you if you were disgusting, right?"
Dylan watched him so intensively Rip worried a little he would burst a vein in his eye. Finally, he nodded and snuggled—snuggled!—closer. "Okay."
#sickfic#emeto#hurt/comfort#vomiting#fever#werewolf wip#my writing#Dylan#I had more stuff I wanted to happen#part 2? I guess? maybe
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