#two different but equally passionate kinds of love

[keyotos]

if this was a movie

summary — your book trope w/ hsr men!

includes — dan heng, gepard, blade, sampo, & jing yuan

tana's words — i watched project x and let me tell you I WANT THOMAS SO BAD. something about a skinny nerdy white guy will ALWAYS GET ME. and then it inspired me to write different tropes bc project x is very 2010s trope type shi

also check out my note at the end!

dan heng

⎯ you guys are: grumpy x sunshine

⎯ i feel like out of all grumpyxsunshine duos you and dan heng would be the most chaotic grumpyxsunshine because to some extent the both of you are equally as unhinged.

⎯ if you ever need someone to pull you back when you get too erratic? leave it to dan heng! if dan heng needs someone to make him not sound as assholeish? leave it to you! you two balance each other out in the most perfect way

⎯the two of you reminds me of that one tiktok sound where it's like

"that's just the way he sounds, he has an asshole voice. tell him he's okay."

"everything's great."

"dude."

⎯ you two are my FAVORITE kind of grumpyxsunshine couple because you two are both so chaotic??

⎯ your energy is just so bouncy?? like you can bounce all over the place and you're just so energetic and he's over here like meh...

needless to say, he does appreciate your energy. most of the time, he usually fuels it (he says something purposefully boring bc you always refute his his boring response). your entire being makes him smile (which is rare), and that's why you guys work out so well.

and to add to my point, dan heng is just as important to you as well. you have a lot of energy, which is a good thing, but sometimes it can lead to distraction/erratic behavior/etc. dan heng is always the person who tugs you back to earth. he's your rock in every situation: he's the logical reasoning behind your ideas, he's your pragmatist, and he's your gravity, keeping you still and calm when needed.

— and i also wanted to indulge more in my hc that you and dan heng are so chaotic together

he doesn't shut down your ideas. he just adds logical reasoning to them. those are two very different things. if you have a good idea (you usually do) that sounds reasonable (it doesn't even have to be extremely reasonable either), he'll full on encourage it.

— so you could literally have the most random and out of pocket idea ever, and as long as you back it up with some evidence (doesn't even have to be good), dan heng will approve. i think that's true love.

⎯ such a chaotic duo like you would sacrifice yourself for the world but HE would definitely sacrifice the world for you.

gepard

⎯ you guys are enemies to lovers

⎯ ik a lot of people expect like friends to lovers or something softer but NO you guys are enemies to lovers.

⎯ gepard is so HEADSTRONG and STUBBORN which is why i think he’s the perfect person for the enemies to lovers trope. like ofc his love is going to be so sweet and kind later, but the beginning…

you two are both going to be very determined and you will both fight for what you believe in. that passion makes you two such a good couple, and it also makes your love exhilarating and ongoing, bc that stubbornness you two share will never go away.

you guys definitely have silly little banter and those moments where you guys accidentally brush hands and you guys both blush. lingering touches that may insinuate another feeling that gets you hot

⎯ but you two are like stubborn af. so no confessing anytime soon! it would definitely be a slow burn romance because of your stubbornness and you two are just in denial

⎯ i want to talk a bit more abt you two being enemies: i guess you ideals differ because gepard is so devoted to his orders while you are more of a carefree spirit. you’re more of a rule breaker and he’s more of a rule follower.

⎯ at first you would have rather died than ever spoke to him. his uptight nature and the way he acted so proper utterly pissed you off. serval would have to be the only way you could converse w/ gepard w/o biting his head off

⎯ in the end, after some forced proximity, you two would def be developing some feelings.

⎯ with enemies to lovers, there will be lots of pining. which is why i think enemies to lovers is the perfect gepard trope.

since he’s captain of the silvermane guards at such a young age, he probably doesn’t have a lot of experience in the relationship department. so he’s stuck dealing with being hopelessly and utterly in love with you

everything abt the enemies to lovers trope describes your relationship. the initial hatred, the touches, the PINING, the middle ground.

⎯ after you guys have like a hot make out session i think all the feelings will be cleared up (LMAO)

blade

⎯ your trope is: second chance romance

hear me out: you guys both met in the past because you two were both stellaron hunters. however, the paths you two chose were different. you two were so in love with each other, but destiny had other plans.

now we are in the present, where blade sees you once again, and all his feelings come crashing back down into him. everything he’s suppressed about you: your face, your smile, your laugh; it’s all coming back up

⎯ ARE YOU GUYS SEEING THE VISION!!!!

⎯ you guys make your first encounter, and (depending on your own scenario) it either ends in longing or pain. blade hasn’t seen you in (probably) years.

when you end up spending more time together, the tension is THICK. old feelings are obviously not gone. body language is all pointing to you. breathing gets faster and why do you really want to kiss him????

⎯ something abt intense pining and sexual tension just gets me y’all

there’s obviously past feelings in the air, and none of you want to acknowledge it. so, you two suffice on brushing each others’ hands when you walk past each other, long stares from across the room, and watching each other’s every move.

between the both of you, you would make the first move. it’d be like an accident; it would be one of those movie scenes where the girl/guy asks, “is this weird?” and the guy goes IN and he’s like “not at all.”

⎯ and then the next day you both are freaking out bc what if fails like last time??

idk something about longing and missing someone dearly just screams blade to me. the thought of someone on your mind 24/7. blade having you on his mind 24/7??

sampo

⎯ you guys are: fake dating

⎯ i’m a little on the fence but hear me out

⎯ you two agree to fake dating because it’s both mutually beneficial. it would be no strings attached. plus, you would be able to get away from that one guy who keeps flirting with you, and sampo has evidence that he can commit to something.

⎯ but when does “no strings attached” turn to more?

suddenly, the once friendly arm around the shoulder makes your heart beat quicker. the wink he always gives you makes your stomach explode with butterflies. the friendly offering of a rose makes you blush more than you should.

you aren't the only one affected. sampo swears he feels his heart skip multiple beats after he hears you laugh at one of his jokes. when you took his hand into yours once (it was an act to fool others), his heart nearly stopped in his chest. and suddenly he finds himself making more quips and trying to get closer to you, even though he knows the risks.

⎯ now, you both are left confused with your feelings bc BOTH OF U DON'T WANT TO MESS IT UP.

⎯ you both did not think it would turn out this way. before this, you were friends making a beneficial agreement. you guys were fine.

⎯ that is a lie. i just lied. you guys always had some thought about dating each other. sometimes sampo looked a little too good, and sometimes sampo found your eyes a little too mesmerizing…

back to present time. there is so much tension to the point where you both want to explode. and then there are thoughts. maybe you want sampo to be your boyfriend for real. maybe sampo does want commitment. scratch that, because he doesn’t want commitment. he wants you. he just wants you, and that’s all.

⎯ now how do you confess? or do you just hold in the feelings

jing yuan

⎯ CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS. I WILL NOT BE ELABORATING BC THIS HAS BEEN IN MY HEAD FOR A WHILE.

⎯ ik he was training hard asf in his childhood, but that doesn’t mean u couldn’t have snuck in (i haven’t got far enough in the game to know if you can or not LOL)

⎯ you guys are cute little buddies, because the both of you probably had no friends! and bc of that, an adorable bond formed between the two of you.

growing up, that bond would remain unchanged. even though you lived down w/ everyone else while jing yuan was living seclusively, that never stopped you from seeing him

honestly, you thought you were always going to be best friends. but when someone asked you if you were ever going to get a boyfriend, you realized that the only person you could really see yourself with was jing yuan.

⎯ teenage you had a CRISIS. like you were freaking out after you uncovered your recent revelation. bc you can’t see yourself w ANY GUY EXCEPT YOUR BEST FRIEND??? YOU WANT TO DATE YOUR BEST FRIEND????

⎯ you think you are the only one that feels this way but it’s a LIE. bc JING YUAN FEELS THE EXACT SAME WAY.

after his training, once he rests, his mind constantly flutters to you. sometimes he scolds himself for not focusing on criticism or improvements because he’s too distracted by the fact that you’ll be coming over that day. his thoughts are literally you.

⎯ there was a period in time where you both thought about confessing, however, the whole fiasco w/ his mentor got into the way of that. it was messy, it was sad, and it was not a good time for the both of you. bc of that, you two both set back your feelings due to personal reasons (you wanted him to be emotionally better, he didn’t want to be a burden).

it was years later when you two confessed your feelings for each other. you two were both looking at a photograph of the both of you when you guys were younger, and you confessed you had a crush on him back then.

bro goes, “i have a crush on you too.” and you were like, “haha we should’ve told each other,” but then you’re like PRESENT TENSE!?!?!?

⎯ eventually it is a happy ending in the end! obviously. hehe.

tana’s words ⎯ sorry this was a little vague 😭 if you would like for me to elaborate on some of these scenarios, lmk in my ask box!

[lilasamaaa]

Who says "I love you" first? Part Two | F1 grid x Reader

Click here to read the first part!

Genre | Fluff

Featuring | Oscar Piastri, Daniel Ricciardo, George Russell, Carlos Sainz, Yuki Tsunoda, Max Verstappen.

Word count | 1.8K

Warnings | None! Enjoy the ride!

Author's note | Coming up with original ideas for this was so painful lmao, I'm sorry it took so long!

Oscar Piastri

He says it first.

Today marks four months since you and Oscar have been together. The Australian texted you a few hours ago, telling you to wear a nice dress and meet him in front of your building at 8.

The two of you had met four months ago at a party hosted by a mutual friend. You had heard of love at first sight, but had never experienced it before him. Before your eyes met his. As you had moved to Australia a few weeks before meeting him, and with English not being your first language, it had taken a bit of time to get comfortable with each other and juggle between your respective languages, but today, you two were inseparable... To the point where you'd already canceled the plane ticket that was supposed to take you back home at the end of the year.

The restaurant where you're dining is splendid. The candles on your table cast a soft light on his face, the atmosphere is incredibly romantic, and the dishes are delicious. But above all, it's the looks Oscar has been giving you all evening that make your heart beat. A mixture of tenderness, passion, and admiration.

"I hope you don't mind, but I ordered dessert," your boyfriend announces, looking at you fondly.

As soon as the sentence is uttered, a waiter places a plate in front of you, and you let out a gasp of surprise as you discover the letters traced in chocolate. "I love you". In your native tongue. Your eyes start to water as you meet Oscar's gaze, visibly nervous. For a minute, you're speechless. Equally surprised by the kind attention than by the admission from the Australian.

"Please tell me they spelled it right," the driver says as you burst into laughter.

"They did," you reply, reaching for his hand. "And I don't have any dessert to prove it, but just so you know, I love you too."

Daniel Ricciardo

He says it first.

Daniel and you are lying on the couch in his living room, watching a replay of last weekend's race on TV. You love it when your boyfriend comments on every move, explains the strategies, and tells you about his feelings in the car. Even though you attended the race live in Singapore, it's definitely different to look back at the race with the insight of a real pilot. As Daniel explains to you the choice of his medium tires, the image from the replay suddenly changes from the track and zooms in on you, wearing a headset, in the garage.

"What?" you yelp, standing up on your elbows. "I didn't know they were filming me!"

Under your face, a small banner appears, and you feel your heart tighten. "Daniel Ricciardo's friend".

"Oh," you breathe, unable to tear your gaze away from the tv screen.

"Wow," Daniel says. "So they really have no idea that we're together."

The camera dives back onto the track, and Daniel starts commenting on every moment again, before realizing that you've been silent for a while.

"Hey," your boyfriend says, nudging your shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, it's just..." you start, feeling your throat tighten. "We've been dating for a few months now, and it's... It's weird to be called your friend. I don't know. It's making me feel insecure."

"Well, you shouldn't," the Australian says before capturing your lips in a soft kiss. "Because I love you. Way more than a friend."

George Russell

You say it first.

At work, George is methodical. Organized. At home, however, you've come to learn that your boyfriend is a real scatterbrain and forgets everything. All the time. To the point that since you started seeing each other more regularly and you began sleeping over at his place, you've gotten into the habit of leaving notes for him all over the apartment before going to work.

"Your brother is coming over tonight"

"DO NOT order food. There are leftovers in the fridge!"

"Your fave sweater is in the dryer"

Each note is always signed the same way. A double x (you two live in England, after all) and a smiley face. If you're the one writing the small notes, George is the one collecting them and throwing them away everyday. So tonight, as you close the door to his apartment behind you, you're surprised to find your boyfriend on the couch, holding one of the bright yellow squares in his hand.

"Hi babe," you say, coming closer to him. "What's this?"

"Your note," George replies, looking at you. "From this morning."

"What about it?" you ask, furrowing your brow as George hands it to you.

"Don't wait for me for dinner tonight, I'm going out with the girls. Love you."

Oh. You're still looking at the note with wide eyes when your boyfriend speaks again.

"Did you mean it?"

"I'm... kinda surprised I wrote it, but yes, of course, George. I mean it."

Your boyfriend gets up from the couch, coming towards you before planting his lips passionately on yours.

"Well, I love you too," George says, making your heart skip a beat. "And I'm keeping this one," your boyfriend laughs before pocketing the note.

Carlos Sainz

He says it first.

Carlos and you have made it a habit to call each other as much as possible when the driver is away. The distance is already hard enough to manage for the both of you as it is, so there's no need to torture yourselves even more with radio silence. Sitting in the hotel lobby, the only place where he managed to get enough network for a high-quality call, your boyfriend is telling you all about this morning's free practice session when the phone shakes, and you see his eyes hovering above the screen.

"Wait, hermosa, just a second."

The microphone cuts out, and you see your boyfriend's lips moving without sound. You furrow your brow, thinking that someone from the hotel staff might be scolding him for speaking aloud in a public area, when Charles appears in the corner of the screen, the sound coming back.

"Charles wants to say hi," Carlos says, playfully rolling his eyes. "Please find a girlfriend and stop annoying mine."

"How are you?" Charles asks, smiling at you, ignoring Carlos' whines.

"I'm doing great, thanks for asking!" you reply, smiling back at the driver.

"Now, move," Carlos says, "I'd rather talk to her than to you. You'll understand that when you're in love again."

A laughing Charles waves at you a final time before disappearing from your screen. Your attention shifts back to Carlos.

"So..." you say playfully. "You're in love?"

Realizing the slip-up, Carlos' eyes widen.

"I didn't mean to say it like that. Or over the phone. But yes, I am," your boyfriend says, smiling proudly.

"Good thing I am too, then," you reply winking.

Yuki Tsunoda

You say it first.

Yuki is naturally shy. You noticed it from your first meeting, and you've never been afraid to take the lead. You've been the initiator of all your firsts : first conversation, first date, first kiss. This dynamic works well for both of you. You suggest, and Yuki always happily follows.

However... there's something you've been afraid of initiating. It's been several months since you started seeing each other, and you're truly on cloud nine. Everything is going well between you, the chemistry is perfect, and the slightest glance from the Japanese makes you absolutely melt. You know the signs. You're in love. But how do you tell him without scaring him off?

The answer comes naturally as you watch your boyfriend exchange words with his Team Principal in the Racing Bulls garage, his helmet in his hands. As Yuki finishes zipping up his suit, his back to you, you kindly offer to hold his helmet and take the opportunity to pull out a marker from your pocket, discreetly scribbling on the plastic shell before handing the object to your boyfriend.

The race goes incredibly well, and Yuki finishes in the points, creating euphoria in the garage. When your boyfriend gets out of the car, his first instinct is to take off his helmet and steal a kiss from you as you laugh.

"What's making you laugh?" Yuki asks, looking at you fondly.

"I put a little encouragement on your helmet, and it looks like it worked," you whisper, pointing to the three hastily written words. I love you.

Yuki is naturally shy, yes. Yet, the kiss he gives you after your revelation is the only confirmation you needed.

Max Verstappen

He says it first.

It's been ten days since Max flew several hours away from you for his next race, suggesting you stay at his place until his return. The initial idea was for you to look after his cats, but the driver would never admit that what he wanted above all else was for you to put your intoxicating scent all over his sheets... Creating a sense of domesticity that he wasn't so sure you were ready for yet.

Keys turn in the lock, and Max appears at the end of the hallway, suitcase in hand. It's safe to say that he didn't expect to find you curled up on the couch, asleep, his two cats nestled in your arms.

The sight is enough to make him want to call your landlord and tell them you' won't be needing your apartment anymore. To give you the keys to his place, and never take them back. But for now, abandoning his suitcase in the hallway, Max sits on the couch gently, making sure not to wake you before softly stroking your hair. You whine softly in your sleep, opening an eye.

"You're back," you mumble weakly.

"I am, and it looks like nobody missed me that much," Max says, pretending to be hurt.

"What?" you say, sitting up. "I missed you! Every day!"

"And yet, you wasted no time replacing me," your boyfriend laughs, petting his sleepy cats.

"I had to adapt," you reply with a smirk. "They confessed before you. There was nothing I could do."

"Do you want me to confess?" Max says, bending over to press a soft kiss to your lips, making your heart flutter. "You have my love. All of it."

[loveemagicpeace]

Synastry & Composite chart Part 2 🍬💍🍒

🦋Composite Chart🦋

☁️ASC : How the relationship started & how others / environment see you

☁️ASC ruler : Area of focused expression

☀️Sun : Indicates what brought you together and what goal you have in life

☀️Aspects to Sun : Shows purpose of the relationship supported or not

🌙Moon : Emotional connection & the soul of the relationship

🌱Mercury: communication, thinking and how they fit together in mindset

🍒Venus: how u two love and your love language together

🥨Mars: drive, anger & power, sexual attraction

🔥Jupiter: luck , gift, wisdom, traveling, exploration, growth

🪐Saturn: karmic things, honesty, responsibility, maturity of the relationship

❄️Uranus: difference, uniqueness, unpredictability, rebellion

🫀Pluto: intensity, depth, transformation

🧚🏼‍♀️Neptune: dream, fantasy, confusion, obscurity, illusion, lies

🍬Northnode : Indicates in what direction you should grow as couple

💕1st, 5th and 7th : Important houses in Composite

✨Aspects✨

Conjunction : Binding force, depending on the planets combined

Sextile : Harmonic union, comforting

Square : Challenge, No break-ups when you understand each other

Trine : Harmonic union, cooperating well together

Opposition : More prone to break-ups, attraction

💍7th houe shows what’s needed to make the relationship work.

☀️Sun : Need for balance in ego’s inorder to make it work. It’s a good placement for marriage, but it can quickly evolve into becoming open enemies if you are not willing to compromise and listen to each other.

🌙Moon : Emotional involvement is a strong theme. Giving security to each other is needed aswell as balancing the emotions of both people. Safe place and home of relationship.

🌱Mercury : Equally sharing is a theme. Communication is strong, but also the point that needs to be balanced inorder for it to work.

🍒Venus : A very good placement for all love relationships aswell as business related relationships. It’s important to find balance in giving & receiving.

🦋Venus & Neptune placed within the 7th house can indicate a relationship where it will feel so familiar, it’ll feel as though it is unreal and goes beyond this realm. Soulmate energy, especially in tribes, but any aspect. It could be hard to stay angry at one another.

🍬Neptune Conjunct Juno can indicate a twin flame/ soulmate energy. It could also feel as though you’ve been with this person before within past lives if you believe in that kind of thing. The connection will not be easy to let go of and will have something for the natives to learn.

🫐North Node in the 12th house can indicate a connection that may feel like a spiritual connection or could feel as though there is a significant purpose for the connection itself. Both can have dreams about each other that may reveal things about the relationship itself.

🥐Jupiter is in Conjunction to Saturn in a composite chart, it is normal to expect that you will never forget the connection whether it’s romantic or platonic. It could be an indication of staying together for a very long time or for even a short amount of time.

🐚Synastry chart🐚

💕Venus & mars are the most important indicators in relationship because Venus represents love and mars represent drive and passion and when the couple don't have aspects with the venus and mars. It's hard for relationship to survive.

🎡Moon square Mars -It can be challenging aspect because it suggests an emotionally intense nature. Two people can get along very well at one time, and hate each other intensely at other times. Sometimes they can't find a common point of emotions and energy.

🌁Asc square Venus- many times it indicates that when you see a person for the first time, you don't like them. Energy can be very strange and challenging. Later, emotions can develop and it becomes more calming.

🌆Pluto & mars in 4th house synastry -it shows the home you want to create with the person, how you want to live and how you see their family and they see you. Pluto can represent a great transformation that the person brings to your home, and you yourself can transform a lot through this relationship. You can also see how you really want to live with this. Many times, however, the pluto indicates that the mother of the 4th house person can be intense, mysterious and possibly treacherous. A lot of times she can do things in secret. Mars, on the other hand, can represent some internal conflict and more direct energy. That you may notice right away whether their family accepts you or not. Both planets together can represent a more combative side of the family and that many times you feel that things are going too far. Many times mom can be the reason for a fight between you.

🌱Moon in 10th house synastry- can be good or not. Depending on aspects. It can lead to responsible, serious emotions, but at the same time emotions can only come from success, career, practicality and you can feel that in this relationship and passion. You may have reservations before fully expressing yourself to the person and you may have the feeling that the person does not understand how you feel.

🛼Venus in 12th house- a spiritual connection, maybe a love meant to be found. You can meet a person in interesting circumstances. Many times, however, a person may be covering up their real relationships from before or certain secrets about money. A person may come forward in a completely different way than they really are. Love can be covered up, it can mean that no one really knows what is really going on. Sometimes it can lead to the person having you, delusions, or wanting to have you in any way.

✨Lilith in 12th house -lilith shows where the relationship can be the darkest and how the person wants to control you. This connection can bring about dramatic change and transformation. Lilith person may just seem to be out of control in their emotional expression. This can seem overwhelming and dramatic for House 12 person to deal with.

🪐North node conj saturn- karmic relationship means that you have a mission with this person in this life, which you have to complete.

🥨A lot of aspects with saturn means that this relationship is not necessarily something that you want, that will bring you something passionate or happy. It can mean a lot of responsibilities and lessons that can be very difficult. Maybe a relationship in which you can feel trapped.

🦋If relationship don’t have any 1st, 7th, 8th house it can mean that the relationship will not be so successful and you will always feel like you made the wrong decision.

🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸

-Rebekah🧚🏼‍♀️🍬🐚

[phantomsies]

𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐠𝐚𝐬 𝐝. 𝐚𝐜𝐞

intimate mornings with the love of your life

wc: 4.1K

modern au ofc (this is a part of the foodie/travel blogger au I’m working on!) very soft smut + lots of fluff, reader and ace are married, humor, kissing, breeding, handjob, cuddlefucking, prone bone, back kissing + praise (calls him daddy a couple times and he calls her pretty girl)

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life hadn’t always been the absolute dream for Ace as he knew it today..rather than waking up surrounded by lilac painted walls and a warm bed, swaddled in crisp white sheets…he awoke to crooks and pains in his joints from sleeping on wooden floors. Instead of chirping birds, crashing waves from the nearby beach and complete serenity, he was greeted with the sounds of yelling and chaos. Parents, who by all accounts loved him, but made his upbringing more difficult than it should have been and tough-as-nails grandparents who didn’t extend the grace typical ones would. His food wasn’t served to him in a professional-esque kitchen or on a silver platter. He got it in scarce rations and on paper plates if lucky…perhaps, it was why he indulged so much now. It was why he walked around with an abundance of joy, kindness and gratitude in everything he did. An attitude that had earned him quite the online following alongside the reviews of all the different cuisines and delicacies that eluded him in his younger years. He may have been the most jovial spirit anyone had ever laid eyes upon but it wasn’t always that way. All those harsh conditions could turn the warmest heart cold and Ace was no exception. Mad at a world that didn’t give him a fair shot to begin with..but that all changed once he met the woman he’d spend the rest of forever alongside. In life and career..his beloved (y/n). Someone who was equally harmed but made the best of it in the end. Someone who shared his passion for food and lust for life…hoping to explore all of the unknown together. One video at a time and share those experiences with the world. Just by being your authentic selves, you have been able to gain a pretty large platform and turn your very humble beginnings into a dream reality. Hence why he rejoiced in the fact that he could wake up every morning, next to his precious, adoring sweetheart and begin his day the correct way..being gracious.

being gracious that you were all his. That this spacious, two story house you shared together felt more like home every single day and that he was truly blessed to call you wife.

“Mmmm..there’s my handsome husband. Good morning, baby..”

it was a phrase he’d never get sick of hearing. Going from a wandering bachelor, never really finding his place in any relationship to someone’s forever person..it was surreal. He’d peer down at the glistening diamond on your ring finger, spread across his chest as you rolled over. One he’d been blessed to spend a decent amount on. More money than he’d ever been able to in his life. Your bare face is an absolute vision of beauty..one he could gaze upon forever and never tire of it and those big brown eyes glaring at him as if he were the most amazing thing in the world. He’d bring a hand up to the back of your neck and shoulders, brushing that silk bonnet that covered your freshly styled braids for an upcoming vacation.

“Good morning…how'd my pretty girl sleep?”

the name sending pings throughout your stomach as you giggled, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. He loved when you were so affectionate and touchy. You practically wanted to reside in his skin when you got like this but he didn’t mind at all. Placing gentle kisses along his jugular and earlobe, (y/n) confided in him that you’d slept amazing but woke up with him on your mind. Naturally, he wasn’t going to deny your wishes whatsoever. In fact, he’d shift a bit to meet your gaze, hoping to pry more info out of you. “Yeah? And what are you thinking about, sweetheart?”

it was an answer too salacious for such a tender moment. You didn’t want to ruin the mood but it was painfully obvious that you were craving more than just these tiny pecks and teasing.

“Mmmm…I just..missed you. ‘S all..” certainly a strange thought, considering he’d been by your side all night. But alas, it didn’t take your husband long to decipher exactly what you meant. That was one of the many beauties of marriage. It was one of the many admirable qualities he loved about you. How gentle you became in his presence, how shy you were after all these years and how bashful you became when asking for the one thing you never had to beg him for! It was too cute..as for the reason behind your sudden clinginess, he could only attribute it to the fact that you’d had a terrible dream that consisted of him leaving you or someone left a distasteful comment on your videos, saying that he was too good for you. But there wasn’t a chance in hell that Ace would ever be so foolish to come up off of you! He was the happiest he’d ever been in all his twenty something odd years on this earth. And you were the sole reason.

“You missed me?”

“Yes..so bad.”

eventually, you’d begin to become a little bit more coherent and that’s when your hand would shift from your own sides to his torso; gliding down to his pelvis. He’d then feel your palm cup his shaft and stroke it slowly as your lips met his neck. You’d shuffle around in the sheets, attempting to feign your urges by squeezing your thighs together. But it was of no use..he’d already picked up on it. Reading your body language like a book.

“Aw..well don’t, babe. I’m right here.. ‘m not going anywhere. you know that.” with an arm draped across your shoulder, Ace would plant two kisses atop your forehead before shifting entirely. Turning over onto his side, he’d usher you to do the same. The crinkle of the sheets sounding off in the once quiet room…that would soon become filled with sounds of your lovemaking as well.

“You promise?”

“Of course, pretty girl. I love you so damn much. Here, back up against me..there you go. I got you..”

with the two of you lying on your sides and the covers still draped across your nude bodies, (y/n) clenched the sheets and awaited his first move. He’d keep your leg hoisted between his curled fingers.

“Let me hold you, just like this..”

With a few seconds of anticipation, he’d guide that tip along your wet folds..subtle smacking noises could be heard as he teased you. He knew how sensitive you were so he didn’t want to make any sudden movements. Instead, he’d coo into your ear as he prepared to glide in.

“Can I put it in?..are you ready?”

“Of course...please.”

With that, the two of you became one as he nestled that thick cock between your inviting walls. Sinking in almost immediately. The sound of the impact alone made his knees buckle. You always felt so warm, silky and comforting. Writhing around, (y/n) maneuvered until you felt comfortable for him to begin moving. “Fuck..are you okay, sweetheart? Can I start moving?” Naturally, you’d grant him permission with a nod and faint whimper. It was something about those gestures of consent that made the moment all the more special. But he needed to hear you say it..to tell him exactly what you needed.

“Words, baby..talk to me..”

“Y-yes. You can start moving, please..”

Along with those gentle kisses against your neck as he slowly began to thrust.

“You know, I’ll never get tired of waking up and starting my day like this..just me and you. Getting to make love to the most beautiful woman in the world…”

Ace would dote as he continued to buck his hips forward, keeping a firm arm around your upper half and his hand coiling your elevated leg. Meanwhile, those full, swollen balls smacked against your entrance..suddenly, you’d feel one of those hands glide downward and begin massaging your clit. In return, you’d grasp the sheets tightly and brace for the sensation. Crying out, you’d glare up at your husband with those doe eyes he adored so much; your lip quivering and moans growing louder. His large, veiny hands occasionally gripping your breasts..pinching and rubbing those sensitive nipples just to stimulate you more.

“Mmmmph..and it always feels so good. Thank you, daddy..thank you so much.” Your graciousness was as adorable as it was arousing. Something about hearing that name made him want to spill every last drop into your pretty little cunt and let you make him one!

“Shit..keep talking like that and I don’t think we’ll ever get out of this bed, baby.”

“That’s fine. Just keep fucking me..like that.”

You were so overwhelmingly stimulated, he was afraid any other movements would send you over the edge. Even so, your husband continued to feed you deep strokes..all the while, filling your ear and mind with affirmations about how beautiful you were, how special you were to him and how he was so happy you were a part of his life. It wasn’t a luxury he had been afforded prior. All the other women who’d entered his life were gone before he even got the chance to know them well or get to that stage…just temporary flings for a fleeting love that never came to be. He always felt abandoned and lonely…as if no one could ever fill that void in his heart. That was until you came into his life. And he couldn’t dream of letting you go.

“Aw, you’re so cute when you get like this…all needy and shit..but you’re taking me so good, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

those sweet nothings constantly altering your mind and making you melt within his grasp. You felt as if you could just lose all control and allow yourself to completely submit. As if your only job was to lie there and let him bring you closer to ecstasy. Drool would begin to seep from your lips, along with a smile forming across your face. Just as a flashback came to mind..

“Do you remember the first time we fucked like this?…that night was so much fun…” and it didn’t take long for your husband to garner the memory as well. Chuckling as his pace slowed to a steady rhythm without breaking those incredible strokes. “Oh my gosh, are you kidding? I couldn’t forget. Waking up in the middle of the night in your apartment…all your friends in the next room and we had to stay quiet. You almost failed miserably, by the way.” The two of you began reminiscing on a time when your relationship didn’t quite have the same dynamic as it did now. You were still sharing a condo with your three best friends and he was still living with his two brothers in a less than ideal space. That particular night, you were all out at a club and rather than making the trek home, plastered out of his mind, Ace decided to stay over. Needless to say, when the clock struck around three am and that alcohol hadn’t quite worn off, the both of you awoke to the incessant urge to ravage one another!

however, there was the pressing matter of your roommates sleeping next door and the possibility that you’d wake them. So as a solution and compromise, he’d put you on your side with his hand cupping your mouth as he pounded up into you. He’d grunt and whisper the nastiest things in your ear; only for you to be forced into silence. Clenching his shaft and squeezing down every time he spoke. By the time he placed you onto your tummy, ass sticking into the air..you had lost track of your own orgasms.. “You took ‘fucking me to sleep’ literally. How the hell was I supposed to stay quiet?” To which he could do nothing but softly chuckle. Even of his own admission, he knew he was on an entirely different level then..but those days were far behind you both. No longer were the nights of reckless, alcohol fueled hookups with nothing but lust on your minds..they were instead replaced by passionate love making sessions as a result of being wine drunk and dancing around in your kitchen to R&B. No need to silence yourselves or be inconspicuous…you had a space all your own and you were going to use it as you saw fit. Including moaning and screaming your husband’s name so loudly that you’d wake your slightly distant neighbors.

”But we don’t have to worry about that anymore…I mean, we can fuck each other like animals if we wanted. We can do this whenever we feel like it..”

the statement, as outrageous as it sounded, was true! (Y/N) would burst into a giggle as those words and reality sank in. “Yeah, you’re right. Just one of the many great things about being married and in your own space.” It was something about that sentiment that made him speed up. As if the reality that he was spending an eternity with you made him tick. The same occurred when you called him ‘husband, hubby’ or told him that you can’t wait to have his baby someday. It was something that he never would have imagined to be true. Reaching back, (y/n) ran your fingertips across his face whilst pulling him into a kiss.

“I love you, (y/n)..so much, baby..”

“I love you more, Ace..”

just then, those movements became a bit sporadic and your body began to jolt around, breath catching in the back of your throat..it was beginning to make your head spin and eyes dilate; trailing to the back of your head. “Ah—you’re close, pretty girl. I can feel it. Don’t worry, I am too. I’m about to bust, honestly.” admitting just as you felt that cock twitch and pulsate inside of you. Those walls began to constrict and there was no way you were going to let him pull out. With that coy little smile stretching across your face, you’d instruct him to do exactly that.

“Well you know where I want it…”

“Yeah? Tell me then, sweetheart. Where do you want me to come?”

he could almost sense the desperation in your tone. Especially when you begin to curse or get louder.

“Nut in me..nut in this fucking pussy, please..”

“That’s more like it..”

He knew it was a sign that you were reaching your peak. However, his plans didn’t include either of you stopping. For a split moment, he’d bring that hand back to your throat and squeeze a bit tighter than the first time around. Meanwhile, your tongues clashed once more and engaged in a bout of sloppy, nasty kisses.

The two of you would laugh from delirium setting in and the impending orgasms. That’s when he’d instruct you to release at the same time and once that climax came, neither of you could contain yourselves. Ace would halt altogether and you were trembling as streams of warm juices came spilling down your legs and onto him.

“Oh my God!..I’m coming!..fucking coming—“

“Me too! Oh shit..”

with that, you were stuffed to the brim with your husband’s seed. His entire face went blank and those brown eyes trailed to the back of his skull. “Oh my gosh, yes!” The warm liquid filling the inside of your womb and that fat cock of his still pulsating for seconds after inside of you. He’d hold you close to him as he tried to get himself under control..shaking, breathless and sweating profusely, Ace removed the dark hairs plastered to his forehead before looking down to examine you. Only to be met with that beautiful smile and adorable laughter.

“What’s so funny?” To which you’d respond with the most innocuous yet hilarious answer.

“Oh nothing. You should’ve just seen your face. You looked like you were having an exorcism.” That laughter only becomes heartier as the thought sets in. One thing he had come to learn about his precious (y/n), was that you loved to laugh. Even at his own expense sometimes! Cracking jokes and poking fun at one another was just a part of your love language though. It’s what made the relationship so joyous and healthy. Even so, he had to get his revenge for that one!..

“And who’s fault might that be, woman? You’re the one who was begging me to do it.”

“I don’t recall.”

your sense of humor was certainly something to be admired. Sometimes, Ace didn’t know whether to take you seriously. Just one of the many joys of being in a relationship with you.

“Yeah, sure you don’t. Such a brat.” Scoffing and chuckling to himself as he kept marking your neck with kisses. Meanwhile, his hands had returned to your breasts and continued to grope gently. He’d release soft grunts, almost like rough moans whilst feeling you up.

“But you love it though.”

“Damn right I do..I can’t get enough..”

That much was evident by the way his hands roamed and caressed your body. He obviously hadn’t been fully satisfied, despite pumping you full of his cum just moments ago. He was almost certain to overstimulate himself and be knocked out for another four hours afterwards but it was a valiant sacrifice he was willing to endure just to have you once again. It wasn’t something that alluded you by any means..if anything, you didn’t help matters at all by gently bouncing your ass against his crotch. Even with that cock still nestled inside of you, you could still maneuver around. Which elicited another set of whimpers from your husband. Causing him to even whisper in your ear.

“Yes..fuck. Move that ass on me. Just like that...”

“You’re still so hard..”

it was painfully obvious that he hadn’t quite sated that ravenous appetite for you..and you hadn’t quite had enough. Despite being filled to the brim. Reluctantly, he’d pull out of you and drag a trail of that warm seed along with him. However, it wasn’t the end of your early morning fun…

“Flip over f’r me, I’m not done..”

It was something about that slight aggression in his tone that really aroused you. Hell, it even caused you to twitch as you followed his instructions. Just as you were maneuvering, he’d feed your plump ass cheek a hard smack before gently grasping the back of your neck.

“On your stomach, baby..there we go..”

once you were positioned just as he hoped, Ace would then follow suit and readjust so that he was on his knees and planted behind you. With those hips and asscheeks slightly raised, he’d stretch your arms outright before pinning them to the mattress. That thick cock rested atop your backside, slowly teasing the visible entrance. You were still leaking traces of his nut and something about the sight gave him the incessant urge to fill you with more.

“I swear..you’re so perfect. I don’t know how or what I did to deserve you but…I’m so happy you’re mine..”

those sweet nothings were followed by a soft grunt and a trail of kisses, slowly marking your spine. He’d bend down and place gentle pecks from your shoulders, to the top of your back and eventually reach the center. Each one eliciting a moan from (y/n).

“I know it may seem selfish..hell, a little greedy. But I just can’t get enough of you, pretty girl. I’m so fucking in love with you…I don’t know if I could survive if you weren’t here..” his profane language almost mimicked that of love drunken confessions. However, he was completely sober and meant every bit of what he uttered.

“Aww..you mean that, baby?..”

“Every word, sweetheart..every…single..word.”

Answering you as he slowly glided back into your inviting warmth. That sloppy cunt greeting him with a sloshing sound and pop as he stuffed you full once more. Once he was nestled about halfway, that swollen tip began prodding your insides and stimulating you. Even reaching a hand under to rub that clit again.

“You look so pretty when you’re all fucked out like this..that look on your face, it’s so hot…” doting on you even as he fed you those deep, slightly rough paced strokes. His hips snapped with each movement, sucking his teeth to try and maintain his composure. When he got like this, he was less concerned with making love and more so fucking the shit out of you!…

“I know how much you hate when I pull on that beautiful hair…but you love getting choked..gets you so much wetter, doesn’t it?” Spoken as if he didn’t know each and everyone of your ticks.

“Yes!..keep pounding this pussy, daddy. Faster..”. Begging him to increase his speed as he wrapped a hand around your throat. The band of his silver watch grazes your skin in the process. You were both becoming incredibly vocal and louder. Which meant that those orgasms were making a return for round two. It was only a matter of time before your bodies collapsed but for now, you were going to enjoy every second of this lust filled ride! Even shortly reminiscing on how the two of you woke up in this same manner on your first trip to Bali, just before filming a travel blog for it.

“Yeah? That’s what you want? Want me to fuck you faster, baby?” Rhetorically questioning as he increased his speed and roughened that pace. Even feeding your ass two heavy slaps yet again. He was trying to maintain his composure but just couldn’t quite hold it together! “God, yes! Right there…don’t stop!..”His hips snapped sporadically and before long, he was buried to the hilt inside of your fertile cunt. He knew the possibility of impregnating you was very likely and even so, Ace couldn’t resist the urge to pour every drop of his seed into you. Flat against that mattress, you’d gasp for breath and continue to plead for harder strokes. You were yet again on the brink of a climax and you needed his assistance to get there.

“Reach down and rub your clit, pretty girl..hurry up.” Strands of hair fell slack against his forehead, courtesy of the copious amounts of sweat beaded around your forehead. You’d heed his instruction and curl your hand underneath your belly. Tracing tiny circles around that aching bud, (y/n) wailed and cried out as your husband’s throbbing cock was pulsating inside of you. He was always so keen and aware of your body, including when you were on the brink of collapsing. Leaning down, he’d mumble against your ear; his own voice becoming drowsy and spent from all of this activity.

“..Same time…don’t hold back, okay?” With a heavy nod and shallow breaths, you’d find yourselves mimicking your actions from only moments ago, allowing your juices to splatter the sheets and his cum to paint those greedy walls. Seconds later, you’d both collapse to the mattress and in each other’s embrace with a barrage of kisses. Riding out those climatic highs into the sweet bliss of afterglow..your husband would cusp your cheek in the palm of his hands, just to catch one more glimpse of that beautiful face. Whilst those thick ropes finished pumping into you. Even after all of the lust filled, sensual moments and amazing sex, it was that moment alone and ones like them to remind him that life couldn’t get any better than this.

“Here, let’s stay like this for a little while…let me hold you.” His voice lowered to that of a comforting tone. He’d feel the warmth of your tears on his chest and knew that the overstimulation had taken its toll. “Don’t worry, pretty girl. You did amazing… ‘m so proud of you.” But he’d remain here as long as he needed to. After all, it was his favorite place in the world and where he felt the safest. Life may not have begun with the easiest path and it was a bit difficult sometimes…but every single day, he was committed to growing, becoming a better man so that even when things became hard, he was still softer with you!

[solxamber]

If its alright for you^^ Can you do Malleus, Vil, and Jade with gn reader being an angel (reader inspired to Robin fron Hsr and also Columbina, or seraphim if thats what they both are). Being and Ethereal—how would they be in a relationship with Reader? Write how you like! Also could you write a little angst on Vil envying because reader is much more beautiful than him.

Malleus, Vil, Jade with an Angel! reader

I hope I've interpreted it correctly and I hope you like it <3

Malleus Draconia

Being in a relationship with someone as ethereal as you—a being reminiscent of a seraphim, with an almost divine presence—would captivate Malleus in ways even he didn’t fully understand. Your wings, your aura, everything about you felt ancient, otherworldly, and yet, in your company, he felt something warm and grounding.

He’d spend countless nights with you under the stars, speaking of things beyond mortal comprehension, your shared silence often saying more than words ever could. He cherished how you never treated him with fear but rather saw him as an equal, someone to confide in, to trust, to protect.

However, Malleus couldn't shake the feeling of uncertainty at times. While he was powerful, revered, and feared, you were something altogether different—transcendent. Your beauty wasn’t just physical; it was the kind of grace that belonged to myths, a presence so strong that even the most stubborn fae would bow their heads to you.

He’d watch you as you moved gracefully, your wings casting soft, shimmering light that seemed to ease his darkest thoughts. Malleus loved you deeply, but there were moments where he pondered: how long would this peace last? Could someone as divine as you ever truly remain grounded by someone like him?

And yet, each time those doubts surfaced, you’d turn to him with a gentle smile, sensing his unease. “Malleus, I chose you. Not because of your power or your lineage, but because of your heart.” And in those moments, Malleus knew that no matter how distant the stars seemed, you’d always stand by his side.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil Schoenheit, a man who built his world on beauty and perfection, found himself in a relationship with someone whose very existence redefined those concepts. Your ethereal presence—a being so breathtaking that even the sun seemed to shine less brightly in comparison—challenged everything Vil once held dear.

He adored you, admired you, but in the quiet moments of solitude, envy crept into his heart. How could he, the man known for his flawless appearance and impeccable standards, ever compare to you? His reflection in the mirror seemed duller these days, his beauty pale in comparison to your effortless grace.

Vil wouldn’t voice his insecurities, of course. He was Vil Schoenheit, after all—poised, confident, and above all, perfect. But you could see the cracks in his armor, the way he looked at you sometimes, like he was searching for a flaw that didn’t exist.

One evening, after a particularly intense photoshoot, Vil found himself alone with you, the two of you resting in his dressing room. You could feel his tension, the way he was fidgeting, unusually quiet. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely a whisper.

“Sometimes... I wonder what it's like for you,” Vil murmured, not meeting your eyes. “To be so effortlessly beautiful. To have all eyes on you, not because of your hard work, but because... because you simply are.”

You reached for his hand, your touch soft, like the brush of an angel’s wing. “Vil,” you began gently, your voice carrying a soothing quality. “Your beauty is more than what people see on the outside. You work hard, you inspire others, and your drive is what draws people to you.”

He shook his head, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. “But it’s not enough, is it? I will never be able to match you.”

You cupped his face, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Vil, I never asked for you to match me. I fell in love with you—your strength, your vulnerability, your passion. You don’t need to be more than who you are. You’re already enough for me.”

Vil closed his eyes, letting your words sink in, though the jealousy still lingered in the recesses of his mind. But, for tonight, with you by his side, he allowed himself to believe that maybe—just maybe—he didn’t need to compare himself to the divine when you already saw him as someone irreplaceable.

Jade Leech

Jade would find your ethereal nature endlessly fascinating. From the first moment he saw you, he knew there was something different about you. Your wings, your almost serene grace—everything about you was an enigma, something he wanted to unravel.

In his mind, you were a creature of beauty, but also of great mystery. He loved the way your mere presence could change the atmosphere in a room, turning the mundane into something almost magical. He loved even more how you seemed unphased by the chaotic nature of his twin, Floyd, or the dangerous waters of Octavinelle.

"Fascinating," Jade would often muse, his eyes gleaming with curiosity whenever he caught you mid-flight or gazing at the ocean, as if seeing it through otherworldly eyes.

You would tease him for it, smirking as you caught his stare. “You know, you don’t have to analyze me like one of your mushroom specimens.”

He’d chuckle, not denying it in the slightest. “Can you blame me? You’re far more intriguing than any mushroom I’ve encountered.”

While you remained an enigma, your kind and grounded nature endeared you to Jade in ways he couldn’t quite explain. You had this ability to see through his carefully constructed facade, to touch the softer parts of him he rarely let anyone witness. Whenever he was feeling particularly mischievous or cryptic, you had a way of disarming him with just a smile or a well-timed quip.

One night, after hours spent exploring the coral reefs beneath the surface, the two of you floated together in the calm waters, stars reflecting off the surface above. He looked at you, his gaze softened by the water’s gentle ebb and flow.

“You’re like a rare treasure from the deepest trenches of the sea,” Jade whispered, voice low and contemplative. “Something that shouldn’t exist, and yet, here you are.”

You smiled softly, your wings brushing against the water as you drifted closer to him. “And yet, here we are,” you echoed, leaning into his embrace.

Jade, despite his usual composed and calculating nature, found something precious in the way you balanced him, in the way your kindness and ethereal presence made him feel less like a creature of the depths and more like someone who could reach the surface—if only for you.

Masterlist

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Love

TRIANGULAR THEORY OF LOVE

This theory holds that love can be understood in terms of three components that together can be viewed as forming the vertices of a triangle. The triangle is used as a metaphor, rather than as a strict geometric model.

These 3 components are intimacy, passion, and decision/commitment. Each component manifests a different aspect of love:

Intimacy - feelings of closeness, connectedness, and bondedness in loving relationships. It thus includes within its purview those feelings that give rise, essentially, to the experience of warmth in a loving relationship. 

Passion - the drives that lead to romance, physical attraction, sexual consummation, and related phenomena in loving relationships. This component includes within its purview those sources of motivational and other forms of arousal that lead to the experience of passion in a loving relationship. 

Decision/commitment - refers, in the short-term, to the decision that one loves a certain other, and in the long-term, to one's commitment to maintain that love. These two aspects of the decision/commitment component do not necessarily go together, in that one can decide to love someone without being committed to the love in the long-term, or one can be committed to a relationship without acknowledging that one loves the other person in the relationship. 

The three components of love interact with each other. 

Example: Greater intimacy may lead to greater passion or commitment, just as greater commitment may lead to greater intimacy, or with lesser likelihood, greater passion. 

In general, then, the components are separable, but interactive with each other.  Although all three components are important parts of loving relationships, their importance may differ from one relationship to another, or over time within a given relationship.  Indeed, different kinds of love can be generated by limiting cases of different combinations of the components.

The 3 components of love generate 8 possible kinds of love when considered in combination. It is important to realize that these kinds of love are, in fact, limiting cases: No relationship is likely to be a pure case of any of them.

Nonlove - refers simply to the absence of all three components of love. 

Liking - results when one experiences only the intimacy component of love in the absence of the passion and decision/commitment components. 

Infatuated love - results from the experiencing of the passion component in the absence of the other components of love. 

Empty love - emanates from the decision that one loves another and is committed to that love in the absence of both the intimacy and passion components of love. 

Romantic love - derives from a combination of the intimacy and passion components. 

Companionate love - derives from a combination of the intimacy and decision/commitment components of love. 

Fatuous love - results from the combination of the passion and decision/commitment components in the absence of the intimacy component. 

Consummate or complete love - results from the full combination of all 3 components. 

The geometry of the "love triangle" depends upon two factors:  amount of love and balance of love. 

Differences in amounts of love are represented by differing areas of the love triangle: 

The greater the amount of love, the greater the area of the triangle. 

Differences in balances of the three kinds of love are represented by differing shapes of triangles. 

Example: Balanced love (roughly equal amounts of each component) is represented by an equilateral triangle.  

Love does not involve only a single triangle. 

Rather, it involves a great number of triangles, only some of which are of major theoretical and practical interest. 

Example: it is possible to contrast real versus ideal triangles.  One has not only a triangle representing his or her love for the other, but also a triangle representing an ideal other for that relationship.

It is important to distinguish between triangles of feelings and triangles of action.

THEORY OF LOVE AS A STORY

Love triangles emanate from stories. Almost all of us are exposed to large numbers of diverse stories that convey different conceptions of how love can be understood.

Although the number of possible stories is probably infinite, certain genres of stories seem to keep emerging again and again in pilot analyses done of literature, film, and people’s oral descriptions of relationships.

Stories found to be particularly useful in conceptualizing people's notions of love are:

Addiction. Strong anxious attachment; clinging behavior; anxiety at thought of losing partner.

Art. Love of partner for physical attractiveness; importance to person of partner's always looking good.

Business. Relationships as business propositions; money is power; partners in close relationships as business partners.

Collection. Partner viewed as "fitting in" to some overall scheme; partner viewed in a detached way.

Cookbook. Doing things a certain way (recipe) results in a relationship being more likely to work out; departure from recipe for success leads to increased likelihood of failure.

Fantasy. Often expects to be saved by a knight in shining armor or to marry a princess and live happily ever after.

Game. Love as a game or sport.

Gardening. Relationships need to be continually nurtured and tended to.

Government. (a) Autocratic. One partner dominates or even controls other. (b) Democratic. Two partners equally share power.

History. Events of relationship form an indelible record; keep a lot of records—mental or physical.

Horror. Relationships become interesting when you terrorize or are terrorized by your partner.

House and Home. Relationships have their core in the home, through its development and maintenance.

Humor. Love is strange and funny.

Mystery. Love is a mystery and you shouldn't let too much of yourself be known.

Police. You've got to keep close tabs on your partner to make sure he/she toes the line, or you need to be under surveillance to make sure you behave.

Pornography. Love is dirty, and to love is to degrade or be degraded.

Recovery. Survivor mentality; view that after past trauma, person can get through practically anything.

Religion. Either views love as a religion, or love as a set of feelings and activities dictated by religion.

Sacrifice. To love is to give of oneself or for someone to give of him or herself to you.

Science. Love can be understood, analyzed, and dissected, just like any other natural phenomenon.

Science Fiction. Feeling that partner is like an alien—incomprehensible and very strange.

Sewing. Love is whatever you make it.

Theater. Love is scripted, with predictable acts, scenes, and lines.

Travel. Love is a journey.

War. Love is a series of battles in a devastating but continuing war.

Student-teacher. Love is a relationship between a student and a teacher.

Sources: 1 2 3 ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References Writing Notes: Hate

[imloyaltoscoups]

i'm ready | yoon jeonghan

After seven long years, you finally find yourself in a place of true peace and contentment. The journey to this point hasn't been easy - the scars of heartbreak and betrayal ran deep, and it took time to heal and rebuild yourself.

But you did it. You persevered through the nightmares, finding strength in your own resilience and determination. With each passing day, you focused on your own growth and development, pouring your energy into your studies and your personal pursuits.

Completing your PhD was a milestone, a testament to your dedication and perseverance. It wasn't just an academic achievement: it was a symbol of your triumph over adversity, a tangible reminder of how far you've come since the pain of your past.

Along the way, you learned valuable lessons about self-love and self-care. You realized the importance of prioritizing your own needs and desires, of carving out space for yourself in a world that often demands so much of us.

The first years were undoubtedly the hardest. You struggled to find your footing, grappling with the weight of your emotions and the uncertainty of starting over. You were cautious with those who approached, wary of opening yourself up to the possibility of hurt once again.

But with time, you learned to trust yourself again. You rediscovered your worth and your strength, and you refused to let the pain of your past define you. You learned to allocate love and care for yourself, recognizing that you are deserving of the same kindness and compassion that you so freely gave to others.

You pause mid-packing, taken aback by your friend's unexpected enthusiasm. They shake the ticket with excitement, their smile infectious despite your initial reluctance.

"Y/N!!! We're going to Koreaaaa!" they exclaim, their voice filled with enthusiasm.

You hesitate, the memories of your past trip to Korea still lingering in the corners of your mind. The thought of returning to the place where so much heartache had occurred fills you with a sense of apprehension.

But before you can voice your concerns, your friend speaks up again, their tone resolute. "You're okay now, right? So it's okay to visit that country again. And besides, who knows when we'll have the chance to see our friends first ever exhibit. If you're worried of bumping with that piece of shit. Don't worry—I'll give him a piece of my mind. Maybe even a punch and a chokeslam for good measure!... I should have been with you when you went there" she pouted.

Their words catch you off guard, but you can't help but laugh at their fierce loyalty. Despite your reservations, their unwavering support gives you a glimmer of courage.

"Alright," you say, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "This is for our girl."

With a newfound sense of determination, you resume packing, knowing that this trip will be different from the last. Armed with the support of your friend and the strength you've gained from overcoming your past, you're ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead. And who knows? Maybe this time, Korea will hold new memories of joy and adventure, rather than pain and heartache.

As you arrive at the exhibit of your best friend, you're filled with a sense of pride and excitement. You rush forward and envelop her in a big hug, a smile spreading across your face.

"Congratulations queen, you did it!" you exclaim, squeezing her tightly. "I'm so proud of you for pursuing your dream of being an artist. Look at the crowd!"

She returns the hug with equal enthusiasm, her eyes shining with happiness. "Thank you so much! I couldn't have done it without you guys. You two kept on pushing me to do this and here we are."

She then shows you around the exhibit, pointing out each piece with pride, you can't help but marvel at her talent and creativity. Each painting tells a story, a reflection of her passion and dedication to her craft.

As you admire her work, she offers you two a glass of champagne, a gesture of celebration for this momentous occasion.

"Cheers to you and your incredible talent," you say, raising your glass in a toast. "May your art continue to inspire and captivate audiences around the world."

She clinks her glass against yours, a wide smile lighting up her face. "Thank you, and cheers to our friendship. I'm so grateful to have you two by my side."

Together, you three sip your champagne and continue to explore the exhibit, basking in the joy of this special moment shared between friends. And as you revel in the beauty of her art and the warmth of her friendship, you know that this is a memory you'll cherish for years to come.

Time pass by and your best friend excuses herself to greet other visitors, you nod understandingly, letting her immerse herself in the moment. Beside you, your other friend suddenly excuses herself to rushed off to the bathroom, leaving you alone amidst the bustling gallery.

As you scroll through the gallery, admiring the artwork, a familiar voice calls out your name. You turn around and are surprised to see Jeonghan standing there, holding a glass of champagne. To your own surprise, you feel no shock or hurt at his presence. Instead, you feel a sense of calm and resolution.

"Hi," he says, his voice tentative as he approaches you. "How are you?"

You offer him a small smile. "I'm doing better than ever," you reply confidently. "I got my PhD and now I'm planning on doing my residency."

Jeonghan's eyes light up with genuine pride. "That's amazing," he says, offering his congratulations. "I always knew you would achieve great things."

You exchange conversation for a while, catching up on each other's lives. Eventually, Jeonghan takes a deep breath and admits once again that he is truly sorry for the pain he caused in the past.

You nod, feeling a sense of closure wash over you. "I've forgiven you," you say simply.

His eyes widen with hope, and for a moment, you see the flicker of longing in his gaze. But before he can say anything else, a commotion interrupts the moment.

A little kid comes running towards you, calling you "mama." You glance down and see your baby boy, and you can't help but smile as you scoop him up into your arms.

"Where's Papa?" you ask, and just then, a voice responds—a man carrying your one-year-old daughter.

Jeonghan stands frozen, his eyes wide with disbelief as he takes in the sight of your family. You introduce your husband to him, and as you do, your baby boy innocently asks who the man you're talking to is.

"He's one of the singers mommy used to love," you reply gently, trying to keep the atmosphere light.

Jeonghan introduces himself to your family, his emotions held back as he struggles to maintain his composure. But as the moment stretches on, you can see the glass in his hand trembling, a silent testament to the storm of emotions raging within him.

"Mama, can we look for Tatie?" your baby boy asks, his eyes wide with curiosity.

You smile down at him and give a nod. "Of course, sweetheart. Let's go find her," you reply, your heart swelling with love for your children.

Turning to Jeonghan, you offer a polite smile. "It was nice meeting you again," you say sincerely.

Your baby boy tugs at your hand, eager to leave. "Goodbye, Uncle!" he chirps before running off with your husband and daughter.

Jeonghan watches them go, his face a mixture of shock and sadness. You offer him a sympathetic smile before turning away to search for your best friend.

As you walk with your husband by your side, his arm wrapped around you protectively, you feel a sense of peace wash over you. You lean into him, grateful for his unwavering support and patience.

"Thank you for being so patient love," you murmur, pressing a quick peck to his cheek.

He smiles down at you, his eyes filled with warmth. "You're very brave, you know that," he says simply, his voice filled with admiration.

You feel a surge of gratitude for the life you've built together, for the love and happiness that surrounds you. And as you continue to search for your best friends, you realize that maybe visiting Korea isn't so bad after all, especially when you have your family by your side.

In that moment, you realize that the greatest revenge you can provide to Jeonghan is finding your own happiness without him. And as you find your own people who cherish and support you, you know that you've already won.

part 1, part 2

....... ≿━━━━༺JEONGHAN༻━━━━≾ .......

[pink-amethyst-tarot]

♡ Message From Your Soulmate ♡ 

Take what resonates and leave the rest and know that you're the one in control of your life at the end of the day. . . .

P I L E 1 - Through the Fire

Five of Pentacles, Wheel of Fortune (Reversed), Page of Cups, The High Priestess, Justice

Okay. First off, your person wants to say that you are their gift and that you are their surprise. They are so lucky to have you! (omg, I'm gonna cry!!!) Your person is saying that they know that you feel like they have abandoned you and you may have doubts about if this person even exists. They do exist. Your person is real, and they are working so hard to get to you. There have been delays in your union because you are trying to be too in control of the situation. Your person wants you to focus on your own growth and being the best version of yourself for yourself. They are going to come in so unexpectedly and it's going to feel so magical. This is not an ex. I'm serious. Let it go. I'm also getting the communication will be so good and so full of passion and romance! Your person wants you to listen to your inner voice and find the strength to be who you really are. You can look forward to learning a lot from each other. There is a balance in this relationship that you may not be used to. This person sees you as their equal. For some of you, there is a specific person who comes to mind when you read about soulmates, divine counter parts and the person that you want to spend this lifetime and every lifetime with. I want you to know that you aren't crazy. It's them. Just give them some time. Everything is going to work out and you will be together.

Extra channeled message: I love you, I love you, I love you, my sweet star. Hold on to me as tightly as I am holding on to you. Just remembering that you are out there for me, keeps me going; keeps me coming toward you.

Channeled Song: Through The Fire - Chaka Khan

Through the fire, to the limit, to the wall// For a chance to be with you// I'd gladly risk it all// Through the fire Through whatever, come what may// For a chance at loving you I'd take it all the way// Right down to the wire// Even through the fire//

if you want a personal reading, you can e-mail me at pinkamethysttarot@gmail.com

if you feel called to tip, you can on c@sh@pp at $oddlycozycottage

P I L E 2 - my love is mine, all mine

King of Pentacles, Temperance, The Chariot, Ten of Cups, Nine of Pentacles (Reversed), Strength

Baby, you are so safe with me. Your person is so sweet and kind! I'm getting that they are a protector and very cuddly. I am going to be so gentle and so caring with you. You will never have to worry about anything when you are with me. Even if I am not with you, consider it taken care of. I am getting that this person has always been yours. In every lifetime, they have found you and made you so damn happy. This lifetime will be no different! Every universe, every life; I will love you, deeply. I cannot wait to grow old together. This person is a very dominate type, especially when it comes to you. One who likes to take the lead... in more ways than one. (my lord...) Your soulmate sees you as their happiest ending and they want you to know that they will never truly be happy if they don't have you. Unlike the previous pile, I am getting the energy of this being someone that you may know already, maybe even someone who is currently an ex. They have changed in some way, or the stars have aligned for you two to be together again. I'm getting that this person is really successful. Like... really freakin' successful. On the outside looking in, this person seems to have it all, but they don't feel complete because they don't have you but once they do, they are never going to let you go. You are theirs. (Okay, maybe this person is a little bit possessive but not in a toxic way. Definitely set boundaries about that kind of thing.) This love is so strong, so powerful. Wow.

Extra Channeled Message: You have consumed me; mind, body and soul, you have consumed me. You make ruins of me, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I gladly give you my heart to do as you please. If all I can have of you is your destruction of my heart, I will take it. You have me.

Channeled Song - My Love Mine All Mine - Mitski

My baby, here on earth// Showed me what my heart was worth// So, when it comes to be my turn// Could you shine it down here for her?

if you want a personal reading, you can e-mail me at pinkamethysttarot@gmail.com

if you feel called to tip, you can on c@sh@pp at $oddlycozycottage

P I L E 3 - My babe would have me

Eight of Swords, Nine of Cups, The Chariot, Seven of Wands, Knight of Pentacles

I have been through a lot when it comes to love. My heart has been broken over and over again but with you, it's different. You are a dream come true, my love. There is an energy present that is telling me that your person is going through a lot right now. It feels like a Dark Night of the Soul. They are definitely going to come out on top though. They are a fighter, and they have the upper hand in whatever they are dealing with. Part of the reason that they are doing this work is because they want to be the best for you. They want to be good enough for you. (Even though they already are!) This person is worried that they aren't good enough and that you will leave them or won't choose them! They are so sure about you though. They know that you are what they want in this world. They are working hard on a lot of parts of themselves because you are so worth it. I feel like, just like the previous pile, you may already know or be in union with this person or this may be about an ex. Like, I need you know that this person is working so hard. They are going to show, not tell you how much they have changed. Like this is a whole new person.

Extra Channeled Message: I want you to know that yes, I am working on me so that I can be better for you but it's also for me, too. It has been so hard to go through this healing, but it has been worth it, and I am glad I decided to change. I am glad that I decided to heal, and I like the person that I am now and who I am becoming. I am going to make sure we have a really good life together, my love. I refuse to make your day harder or to make you cry. You are far too precious for that. I love you to the moon and back.

Channeled Song: Work Song - Hozier

My babe would never fret none// About what my hands and my body done// If the Lord don't forgive me// I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me//

if you want a personal reading, you can e-mail me at pinkamethysttarot@gmail.com

if you feel called to tip, you can on c@sh@pp at $oddlycozycottage

LEGAL DISCLAIMER: FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. THESE READINGS ARE FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. no guarantees are implied. These readings are not a substitute or replacement for any professional help or services. My readings are not a substitute for any form of professional legal, medical/psychiatric, relationship, religious/spiritual or financial/ business advice nor consultations. You should always see a professional legal/trained adviser for help in any matter. I am not responsible for any decisions/ actions you take.

page dividers created by @bunnysrph and @eloquentreverie

[foursaints]

i lurvvveeee your jegulus so lemme be parasocial about them for a sec!! how did those fuckers meet? are they an opposites attract kinda sitch?? how do their individual personalities mesh together to create the perfect mush of athlete sweat and dior sauvage eau de toilette?

- sincerely, the film bro question anon 💌

jegulus has always struck me as the kind of insane people who would meet by hooking up at their mutual ex’s wedding. they’re that exact type of crazy. (james is there to make a dramatic love confession, regulus is there to get dramatic revenge, and they wind up too preoccupied with fucking in the coat room to remember their original plans, thank GOD)

jegulus always has the type of charmingly witty, surprisingly tender, magical banter that convinces them it’s love at first sight, approximately 24 hours before james catches a glimpse of reg’s “jfp: pros/cons?” list in his notes app and all hell breaks loose.

they’re two people who are both utterly convinced they’re always RIGHT. but they couldn’t be more different. so they mutually instigate a crisis in each other just by existing

regulus has the personality of a vodka martini. james cries at finale episode of american ninja warrior. but they have to reckon with their blistering chemistry & shocking moments of soulmate-level vulnerability and this is difficult because, crucially, neither one of them is good at EVER losing battles of will….

they are equally stubborn. they deal with life in opposite ways. you could not PAY regulus to date someone who wears the same filthy unwashed pair of “lucky socks” before watching any championship game. james thinks paying more than $200 on a single pair of slacks is tantamount to a war crime.

but they both… begrudgingly respect and are fascinated/hypnotized by each other? because of the differences? they have the EXACT SAME sense of humor. their weird “contemptuous rivalry” sex is the single most passionate thing either of them has ever experienced. and it’s precisely their differences that just… against their wishes…. bring out the best in each other

like. james has never had a normal breakup in his entire life (they’re burning his clothes, he’s showing up at 6am with a boombox, etc). all of regulus’s breakups are handled in 3-5 business hours & come with a severance package. it’s only by talking to regulus on the porch at midnight that james gets a handle on himself. regulus has never enjoyed letting go until james teaches him to tango in his apartment at 3am.

but all these moments of growth!! would be more satisfying!!! if they weren’t coming directly from THAT SWAGGERING TRUST FUND CONTROL FREAK IDIOT!!!!! (said the swaggering trust fund control freak idiot)

it’s the horror of realizing your least favorite person is Sometimes Right, and also isn’t even close to being your least favorite person at all.

[sgiddings]

hello friends and fans! (let's try that again) here's some spicy jossam headcanons before kinktober ends hehe :3

josh has some pretty intense - let's just say - fantasies. even prior to officially (finally) getting into a relationship with sam, he'd always dream, and daydream. to say a part of that didn't play into what he put sam through that night would be an outright lie. sam hiding while he searched around for her only elevated the excitement for him, getting to talk to her like that was one of his fantasies realised.

which leads into the aspect of roleplay between them, josh collects horror paraphernalia, and that of course comes with a ghostface costume. almost every horror aficionado has one and josh is not an exception to the rule. sam can work up a sweat and josh can haul her over his shoulder in one swoop, it's kind of hard for sam not to giggle when he does so since their comparison in size is such a stark difference, but just because she's tiny doesn't mean she can't throw the punches, and josh loves to see her put up a "fight".

when it comes to intimacy in general josh doesn't really have many notches under his belt, maybe one or two fumbles in the dark just to have it in the back of his mind that he's had the experience (even though he desperately wanted it to be with someone else, and we all know who that person is). intimacy with anyone else but her was difficult for him, and awkward. people never to be seen again. sam had always been under the impression it would've been plenty more despite the fact he'd never had a partner before or ever spoke of having one, and information like that would've been something that'd be mentioned in passing. they told each other almost everything, they couldn't really hide their goings-on well from one another. sam, surprisingly to josh, was the virgin between the two. she always had secretly wanted her first time to have been with him, and she was glad she'd waited it out and had rejected the advances of others.

their first time is sweet, passionate, emotional and a touch desperate. sam's scared that it's going to hurt - but josh makes sure to cater to her every beck and call, her every need. it doesn't need to be something rough and unaccommodating, he takes his time with her, and takes things at her pace, all josh ever wants is her pleasure and satisfaction, nothing else matters. he kisses her as if he'll blink and she'll vanish, he kisses her with an unspoken plead behind them - please don't leave me. i love you. there is an urgency due to how long they both have wanted this, but simultaneously they have all the time in the world for one another. tears are shed - their love runs so deep that they can't help but cry that first time.

he always makes sure that sam comes first, it's a rule that he lives by and not once has he failed, nor does he plan to. he has determination like no other.

josh is good with his hands, and knows how to tie a rope exceptionally well. shibari is an art form that has always fascinated him, so why not try it out with his girlfriend? at first sam wasn't so sure about it, there were so many knots to be made in the ropes and she wasn't too certain that rope digging into her bare flesh would be that great a time, but she was willing to hear josh out and try anything with him once - within reason, of course. in the beginning it's a little claustrophobic, but she eases into it, and the way josh calls her his little rope bunny is enough to burn her cheeks - forget the rope burn. when his voice drops an octave and he's talking to her like that, her whole body is alight.

absolutely no one is surprised when sam's sporting a new hickey, mark, bruise, whatever. josh likes to mark his territory and make it a point to show off to the world that sam is his girlfriend. sam bites back, she sure as hell can litter him with marks and josh gets off on it, whether it's him leaving marks on her or her leaving marks on him. she's equally as territorial about him, and that's the way they both like it. a mutual obsession with one another, an all consuming love.

sam has a thing about josh's hands, he catches her staring at them all the time; staring at them when he's working at something, staring at them while he's drumming his fingers against the kitchen counter. she can't help but reach for them during intimacy, without so much as a thought, kissing and sucking at his fingers with her mouth, so gently and sensually that it drives josh to insanity.

in comparison to their entire friend group, they are by far the "freakiest" couple. they don't have to know the particulars, that stays between josh and sam, but that doesn't stop the girls from hounding sam. emily tells sam that if she needs handcuffs to borrow, she's got just the set for her - to which sam flushes pink all over. handcuffs are too tame for them, but again, their friends don't need to know that. sam and josh aren't particularly open about what they do, either, but the imaginations of their friends run rampant whenever there's new hickeys and marks to be spotted.

matching halloween costumes always results in them having a bit of roleplaying fun.

[yourstarstruckbeloved]

kriti; an ode to devotion

dr. ratio x fem!reader, in which ratio finds himself absolutely smitten for a musician from earth.

content/warnings: 1.4k words, reader is very very feminine, referred to with she/her, reader is also indian and a maestro at indian classical music, i made this purely as a self-indulgent self-insert piece, religious imagery/writing, good ol’ potential ooc dr. ratio warning, he does not know ANYTHING about indian classical music or hindu culture, a few sanskrit terms used

author’s note: aaaah i can’t stop thinking about how dr. ratio would absolutely just fall in love with people passionate for their lines of work. i know this is pretty much just a self insert of my own but the thought of ratio with an s/o devoted to music or dance is so... <3

ratio feels like he’s sighed for the millionth time today. “didn’t you find someone else to do your bidding, gambler?” his question is met with a resounding and joyful nope! from aventurine, who drags him into the crowded theatre. “i had two tickets for this show because my friend was very kind. but no one else could make it on such short notice,” the blonde says, the smile never leaving his face. “so, i’m glad you came with me, doctor. ah! two empty seats! lucky us, eh?”

“whatever.”

ratio can’t say he’s the biggest fan of music— he dabbles in it from time to time, but nothing too much. it it weren’t for the gambler’s insistence, he would currently have been home and indulging in a relaxing bath; but alas, aventurine always gets what he wants. “i’m surprised you even have friends with a personality as repulsive as yours.”

“that hurt, you know,” aventurine says, clutching at his chest and forcing a pained expression onto his face. “do you really think i’m that bad?”

“no, i just think you are an idiot. or that the friends you have are equally as repulsive as you.”

the chatter around him turns into static white noise and he stares emptily at the blank stage, numbers and letters going left and right and center in his brain. the frustrating proof that the doctor had been trying to work on for weeks now is making a resurgence in his head. well, on second thought, maybe it’s not so bad that he got dragged out… perhaps, the doctor could make use of this opportunity to unplug and relax a bit. maybe the gambler isn’t so much of an idiot after all (aventurine knows, but he won’t let up).

ratio is snapped out of his daze as the curtains draw to a close, the stage now hidden behind them. a good portion of the crowd silences, in anticipation of the performance that was about to begin any second now. he heaves a sigh when the curtains reopen, a subconsciously bated breath being released.

in the middle of the stage sits a woman wearing a rich blue… robe? stole? no, it’s probably a saree, he surmises. “that’s her!” aventurine says excitedly with a gasp. “do you see her, doctor?” the soft light falling on the woman seems to reflect off of her in a subtle shine. almost like an ethereal goddess... “yes, i do, aventurine, i am not blind. i’m actually surprised you have friends from earth, of all planets.”

and ratio truly was genuinely surprised— not because he truly believed that aventurine’s personality would be an obstacle between him and his friendships, but because as far as he knew, earth was one of those tiny planets in a remote arm of the milky way galaxy. the people of earth tended to have their own cultures and gods that they worshipped instead of the aeons, and all of this differed widely between major regions on the planet. the… earthlings? well, in any case, they rarely ever travelled outside of their home planet— the maximum they usually ever went was within their planetary system. maybe they’re finally beginning to get out of their comfort zone? no one knows for sure.

the chatter of the crowd gradually dies down as three others assemble next to the woman with their instruments. she takes a sip from the bottle that lay next to her, and ratio notices the slight motion she makes with her hand. he assumes this was to get the show going, because the instrumentalists began playing their parts. they start with a monotonous and constant drone, after which the other stringed instrumentalist joins along with the harmonium player— and finally, you. ratio finds his interest piqued— he does not know much about earth and its customs and cultures.

you take a breath and you start singing. you start off slow and mellow, but ratio can feel the intensity and tempo of the performance gradually increasing— and with it, the intricacies of phrases that you’re singing. he finds it infuriatingly captivating, the way you jump through the chromatic scale with ease, like a deer prancing about in the forest. he wonders if you speak in melody.

ratio swears it’s the most masterful thing he’s ever listened to. he’s never listened to this kind of music ever in his life before, he knows nothing. it’s not as big as a choir or orchestra— and yet, he finds it amazing, the ease with which you conduct everyone with a flick of your hand. no… it’s not conducting. it seemed too unauthoritative to be. honestly, he has a lot of questions but for now he lets himself think of it simply for what it probably was— a well coordinated performance (and he would not be wrong to think of it that way either).

the skillful gliding of your voice has ratio enamoured. he finds it impressive, how easily you seem to be gliding over three octaves of notes without breaking out into as much as a sweat. he can only imagine the years and years of practice that must have gone into gaining such mastery— you make it look as easy as breathing. he would be lying if he said he didn’t find it attractive to some degree at the very least.

it takes him completely by surprise when you look in his direction and shoot your biggest most saccharine smile ever. and then he remembers about your supposed friendship with the man next to him and realises that it wasn’t for him. the gambler wasn’t lying, eh? who was ratio kidding, you didn’t even know him.

but he’s starting to become far gone. ratio isn’t a sapiosexual or whatever, by any means, even if he comes off as such. he knows that people think he would only be willing to date someone who has more phds than he does, but that’s not true at all. ratio believes that one must be passionate about anything that they choose to do. ultimately, that’s really what gets him hooked. he’s absolutely taking delight in looking at the fruits of your years of devotion to your art. and you, your performance is so enchanting it almost hurts. he feels like a dazed sailor drawn to a siren.

heh, it wouldn’t be so bad if the siren was you, he thinks, but immediately cringes at the thought afterward, discarding it into some corner of his brain he hopes to never see again.

oh, aventurine isn’t blind to any of this. he looks at the doctor’s eyes glued onto the stage with hyperfocus, and laughs. he doesn’t miss the way his grip on the armrests grow tighter and tighter, the flexing and tensing of his muscles obvious. who would’ve thought that his musician friend from earth of all people would’ve had the doctor whipped? he supposes it wasn’t a bad decision to bring ratio along, after all.

the audience bursts into thunderous clapping once you hit the end of your performance. ratio almost thought there was going to be no end to it— not that he’d complain though, it would’ve given him more time to study your performance, your art, more time to study you. “that was… that was a splendid performance. i wasn’t expecting to find myself hooked onto a musical of all things, seems like you aren’t completely bad, gambler.” ratio is completely candid with his compliment.

“oh, i know how much you enjoyed this,” aventurine says rather suggestively, catching the doctor off-guard. “hey, i’m going into the backstage to meet her— would you like to tag along?”

ratio is elated at the offer. of course he’d want to meet you, he’s got so many questions and— “sure…” his expression remains as stoic as ever. he’s always been able to count on himself but now? he hopes his deadpan image isn’t betrayed by his feelings, and he finds it so impossibly difficult to fight back the smile that’s slowly creeping onto his features as he watches you and aventurine converse like you were best friends reunited.

“this is my friend, doctor ratio!”

“oh, so you’re the doctor that everyone talks about! nice to meet you, i’m _____.”

you knew him already? well, it’s no big deal, you must have heard about him from aventurine. fuck, you look so much more heavenly up close. you’re like the manifestation of a goddess, with the way you seem to literally radiate a glow and everything. shit, if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were an emanator of beauty, or an incarnation of devi saraswati (he hopes he isn’t thinking of the wrong goddess with his limited knowledge of hindu culture).

“likewise. just veritas is fine, too. that was an absolutely phenomenal performance, back then.”

veritas doesn’t know the first thing about the gods you sung the praises of during your performance, but he does think that your devotion to the art must be unmatched. he feels like you are a personification of the heavens, and he’s blind to everything that isn’t your divine beauty. there’s something so ancient about your art, and you’re almost like an envoy of the gods— aeons, you’re slowly getting him wrapped around your damn finger, and he doesn’t think he’s going to do anything to stop it.

“thank you, veritas,” you smile at him, and he feels a slight warmth. “i’ll be performing again at the grand theatre soon. you’ll be there, right?”

[loaksky]

— 𝘨𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘢𝘳, 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳

the lowdown — neytiri’s his first love, but you’re his forever…he swears.

the who — jake sully x fem omatikaya!reader

the word count — 3.2k

the tags & warnings — possible language, she fell first / he fell harder, first love / last love, arguable tension

the notes — based on this request ! ideally this takes place before anyone dies & everyone is happy :) 

masterlist

You and Jake have always been a sticky situation.

Because it didn’t always start with the two of you. At first, he had eyes for someone else, could only bear the thought of being with one person in the whole of Pandora, and that came in the form of the clan’s most important daughter. And you watched from the outskirts, watched as lessons in life turned into lessons of love.

To be frank, you don’t know when the adoration started, when the feelings began to bloom. Your heart was arid territory, but the seeds were planted and the roots were festering.

Maybe it was his dedication to the people, spirit one with the village. He was allegiant to Pandora down to every last blade of grass, every leaf, every insect. And he was kind, offered his heart and full efforts to every endeavor.

You admired him silently, learned to love him quietly, even as the passion between him and Neytiri swelled until it was ready to burst.

You hadn’t really realized that he’d noticed you until one day nestled among the trees.

“Is this where you disappear to everyday?”

Your neck swivels so hard, you almost get whiplash. The project you’re working on, another satchel to replace your own, bunched tight in your fists as your eyes scan the expanse of forest floor wildly.

Jake stands a few meters below, hand resting casually on the hilt of the dagger strapped across his broadening chest.

All that sounds in the quiet between you is the bobbing of your throat as you swallow, eyes wide and unblinking.

“You don’t really talk much, do you?”

You suppose you don’t, not when you’re used to blending into the edges, spending your days lounging around village grounds and finding odd and ends to tend to.

“Nothing?” Jake presses, weight shifting as he peers up at you.

“Not everyday,” is your only response, still unmoving from your perch on the branch.

Jake only nods, conversation coming to a painfully quick lull.

“What are you up to?” he prods, shifting again.

“A bag.”

Your cheeks are warm under his unrelenting gaze, mouth dry because you’ve spent months admiring him from afar, watching him slowly meld into becoming one of the people.

“A bag,” he repeats.

You nod.

He lets out a puff of air that sounds an awful like a humorless laugh and he scratches the back of his neck. He’s folding his cards first this time around, unsure of how to trod such uncertain territory with you.

“See you around, ________,” he says, giving you a playful salute as he peels away.

Your heart skips as he saunters off, timbre of his voice sweet around your name.

Jake continues to find you in that spot often.

Graduated from holding brief conversations from different elevations to propping against adjacent branches enjoying your company, he comes to find out that you're awfully shy. 

Painfully so. But when he makes you laugh, and you timidly smile with full heart, he feels your facade crumbling.

And as chance meetings after duties turn into promises, you can’t help but wonder what's changed. Every moment with you means a moment unspent with his lover. It makes equal parts pride and dread swell in the pit of your stomach.

Whispers about him ripple through the village, that he’s learning quickly, catching onto the way of the people with great ease. There’s talk of a ceremony, of accepting him as one. It makes something sour, bitter, curdle inside of you in the ugliest way possible.  

Because a ceremony means selection and selection means solidifying the relationship he has with the leader’s daughter. It means no more limbo and the time you’ve spent trying to guard your wanting heart is shot to shit. 

It considerably dampens your mood, something that takes Jake a mere glance over your body language to read. 

“Something’s bothering you,” he observes, head tilting to the side. 

You bite the inside of your lip, eyes golden and gooey. They’re the only thing that betrays the stoic expression that colors the carve of your jaw and the curve of your cheekbones. 

It takes every ounce of effort to not visibly melt at the way you carry yourself. 

He doesn’t know when it started with you, how you could have possibly caught his attention when all you did was wash out in the background, bleed through the edges. But you had. Had captured his attention enough for him to second guess such a fleeting barrage of emotions when it came to the future tsahik. 

Neytiri was a force to be reckoned with, but you were a gentle gust of embracing wind. Jake didn’t feel any pressure with you, didn’t feel like he was wearing the skin of someone else. He felt like him. 

“Our time will end,” is all you say. 

It takes him a moment, but he notices the slick of your lashes, the almost imperceptible hiccup. 

His five-fingered hand cradles your chin, and for the briefest of breaths, you want to ease away, want to put as much distance as you could between you and the very one who has the power to nurture and shatter your heart all the same. But something glimmers like liquid gold in Jake’s eyes and you crumple.

“Why is that?” he whispers. “What makes you say so?” 

“Do you think I’m a fool?” you ask.

There is no malice in your tone, only a lingering thread of defeat. 

“Far from it,” Jake answers, nudging you to meet his gaze when your eyes flicker away. “You are the most intelligent and capable person I know.” 

Your breath hitches and you swallow down a petulant rebuttal. 

“I hear what they say about you, Jake Sully,” you say lightly. “They want to make you one of us.” 

A gentle smile twitches upon his lips, something triumphant flickering over his features. 

“You against it?” he asks, eyebrows quirking.

You shake your head, fingers wrapping around his wrist to guide his hand from your face. When you try to pull away, he threads your digits together, tugging you so that you shift closer to him. 

“You do great things for the Omatikaya,” you say. “They are very proud of you.” 

“Are you?” he presses. 

“Am I what?” you ask, voice caught in your throat. 

Jake draws you impossibly closer. You can make out the constellations of blemishes on his face, the smattering of glowing freckles across the expanse of his muscled chest. 

“Are you proud of me?” he wonders. 

It’s a loaded question, one that makes a shiver rip down your spine and your cheeks to warm. 

Of course you were proud of him. You’d watched him from afar for far too long, had seen every accomplishment, every failure. Had seen the spectrum of his emotions, every jubilant moment and bouts of discouragement. 

“Yes,” you answer simply. “Very.” 

The smile that cracks the lush of his mouth makes you swallow hard. 

“Good,” he hums. “I’m glad.”

He’s searching your face, eyes glazed as he takes in all of you before him. The silence is thick, pierceable by the bluntest of edges. When you show no intentions of breaking the quiet, Jake speaks again. 

“Now tell me,” he says, voice rumbling in his chest. “Why is our time ending?” 

Your lips purse and something like annoyance shutters over your pretty face. 

“The tsahik’s daughter has made her intentions with you very clear,” you say, trying to sweeten the acidic words on your tongue. “You cannot waste anymore moments with the likes of me.” 

Jake bites back the widening of his smile, but he can’t help it, not when this encounter solidifies every suspicion he’s had about you and him. 

“You’re right,” he says simply. “Neytiri’s asked her parents for their blessing for us.” 

You try not to let the disdain cloud your features, try to tamp down the twitch of your frown, but you can’t get anything past him, not when Jake’s favorite subject to study is you. 

“I’m sure they are delighted,” you respond, making a move to peel your fingers from his. 

Your chest is tightening and your vision is clouding. 

His grip squeezes and the film of tears that sheen your eyes makes his heart go soft. 

“They do approve,” he adds, pausing to pick his next words carefully. “But…”

Your gaze flicks to meet his again, heart stuttering when you find that his gaze hasn't left your form. His eyes are mapping every one of your features, pausing a moment too long on your lips. 

Your cheeks blaze.

“But?” you fill. 

“I refused,” he replies thoughtfully. 

He could laugh, the way your lips part, brow bones shooting up as your eyes blow wide. 

“Why would you–” 

“My heart belongs to someone else,” he finally admits. “It has for a long time and it was stupid of me to think that I could ignore it.”

“Oh—” Your breath hitches. 

“But I can only act on my heart if she’ll have me,” he says, searching your eyes. 

“Do you think she—” 

Jake breathes out a laugh, tugs you so that your front presses against his, close enough to feel the fan of his breath against your lips, to smell the delicious spice of bathing herbs clinging to his balmy skin.

“You’re torturing me here,” he groans, throwing his head back. 

You see the way his Adam's apple bobs and you fidget in your seat. 

“I—”

“Jesus Christ, love, put me out of my misery and tell me you’ll have me, please.”

You only manage a noise of surprise before his hand cups the back of your neck to guide you forward, lips pressing desperately against yours. His mouth is warm and when he leans into you, you taste the sweetness of berries on his tongue. 

His hands wander, gliding over the smooth expanse of your flesh like he’s committing every curve and edge of your body to his memory. 

“Wait, wait,” you whisper breathlessly. “What about Neytiri? She… She loves you.” 

Jake’s dazed, disoriented because the taste of you makes him far more delirious than he’d expected. 

He presses his forehead against your own. 

“She’s got nothing on you, angel.” 

Everything shifts on its axis after that, but there’s one thing in particular that remains—the seed of doubt that had rooted that sunny day under the canopy of the jungle’s oversized leaves. 

Perhaps you’re being cynical, a little paranoid, but Jake’s yet to claim you before Ewya despite officially becoming one with the people. And you could stomach it, the idea that maybe he’s just prioritizing a smooth shift into life with the clan, but lately he’s been sneaking around, blowing you off. 

You don’t want to give that niggling feeling of insecurity any stock, not when he’s so lovely to you when you two are intertwined, but you happen upon them by chance and you feel stupid. It was silly, really, to expect Jake to cut ties so abruptly when his fickle heart used to all but thrum for the future tsahik. 

They laugh on the embankment, sitting a little too close for comfort.You want to look away, tell yourself that you’re being too much, but he hesitantly tucks a braid behind her ear and your breath hitches in tandem with hers. 

You can’t force yourself to expel the breath in your lungs, eyes locked on their figures like your pupils are tethered. 

You wish you didn’t stick around, wish you’d just continue on in ignorance, because as Jake leans to give Neytiri a closer look at whatever he’s toying with in his hands, the distance starts closing between them. 

They look like they belong together, two bodies that perfectly fuse.

“Oh—” You hadn’t meant to make a sound, wanted to escape quietly, but just as easily as the breadth between the two of them had closed, a chasm forms between their lithe bodies. 

“________?” he calls, voice layered with alarm. 

You turn on your heel, pushing through the curling foliage with blurring vision. 

“Hey, ________, wait!” he calls out, feet splashing from the water as he climbs from where he’d been sitting with his ankles plunged beneath the surface. 

When his footfalls fast approach and his fingers wrap around the width of your forearm, you quickly dash away the pooling tears before turning to face him head on. 

“What’s wrong?” he whispers, cupping your rounded cheeks in his palms. 

His fingertips glide down the length of your neck, brushing over your shoulders as he examines you. 

You shake your head quickly, forcing down the insecurity that bubbles hot like magma under your burning skin. 

“Nothing,” you say, clearing your throat before finally meeting his worried gaze. 

“Oh, come on,” he sighs, pushing the hair from your face to take a better look. “It’s just me, ________. You can tell me the truth.” 

You lick your drying lips before gently breaking away from him. 

“It’s nothing, Jake,” you reassure him with a small smile. “I’m just being silly.”

He opens his mouth to protest, taking a step towards you. 

“Jake Sully!” Tsu’tey’s voice thunders through the forest as he claps a hand down on his comrade’s shoulder.

Jake turns a warning eye towards him, mutters that now isn’t the time as he swats his hands away, but when he turns to face you, you’re gone. 

You feel guilty. 

Guilty because you fear that you’ve blown things way out of proportion, guilty because Jake’s reserved to giving you your space after another failed attempt at coaxing you from your shell. And infinitely so because he holds you close, when your breathing is steady and you drift in and out of sleep. You hear him, like the gentlest of lullabies. 

I love you. 

It haunts you, those three words. And you guess you’re no better than him. The weight of solidifying your union before Ewya is a heavy one, Jake knows this. But such human words weigh the same to him. And you know that to hear such a lofty sentiment rasp from your soft voice is all he could ever want. 

“He is at his wit’s end, you know?” 

You pause your laundering, allowing your loincloths and woven tops to sink back to the shallow bed of the river. When you crane your neck to find the source of the voice, you’re surprised to find Neytiri leaning against the trunk of a nearby tree. 

Your response is delayed. 

“...Huh?” 

“Jake,” she says simply, and your cheeks warm. “You worry him.” 

You turn back to your chore, spine stiffening when something rustles and Neytiri moves to sit next to you. 

“May I?” she asks, reaching for one of your intricately beaded tops. 

“Okay,” you whisper, unable to meet her sharp gaze. 

“I was hurt when he denied my parent’s blessing,” she says casually, like the thought alone doesn’t make your heart ache for the tsahik’s daughter. You can’t help it. “But I wasn’t surprised.” 

Your head snaps up, meeting her eyes reluctantly. 

“When I first brought him back to the village,” she says, wringing the corded fabric. “You caught his eye, but you didn’t even glance his way.” 

And truthfully, you hadn’t. Dreamwalkers were trouble and you had no intention of ever crossing paths with him. But then you began to see more and more of him, began to feel the weight of his presence on the village and you couldn’t help but give into the fall. 

“He started asking about you,” she laughs quietly. “Every time he’d see you. Said that you never paid him any mind no matter how close he got.” 

You roll your lips nervously, watching the way she reaches for another one of your garments and washes with increasing frustration. You almost miss the tears welling in her eyes. 

“I wished for so long that he would let it go, let you go, but you have a hold on him, ________,” she rasps. 

You blink in disbelief, shaky fingers reaching to touch her own. 

Her face tilts towards yours and her grip on the fabric loosens. 

“Jake Sully is a good man,” she whispers. “Don’t waste something good because you are scared. It will not only be a disservice to him or me, but yourself.” 

You swallow, nodding slowly. 

“I’m–” you take in a shuddering breath as your head bows. “I’m sorry.” 

A wet hand comes up to your cheek. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Neytiri coos. “Just be grateful. Be fearless. It is Eywa’s will.” 

Jake almost thinks you’re a vision when he sees you making quick strides towards him. He breaks away from the circle of villagers just as you press yourself into his chest and those not privy to his relationship with you watch with widened eyes. 

“Hi,” he breathes, combing his fingers through your hair. “Hi.” 

You don’t say anything, arms looping around the narrow of his waist as he throws an apologetic look over his shoulder and walks the two of you towards a quiet area outside of the circle. 

“Everything alright?” he asks, trying to peel you away from where you’ve buried your face in his chest.

You mumble something unintelligible, something that makes his ears prick hard to hear, but your cheeks are hot and you aren’t sure if you can handle seeing his softened eyes as you utter the words. 

“What?” he asks, pulling away enough to see the flush across your face. 

“Said Iloveyou,” you murmur. 

He freezes, like his brain is short circuiting when he pieces the words together. 

“What?” 

You steel your nerves, suck a deep breath into your lungs, and find his sunny eyes.

“I love you, Jake,” you say shakily. “I love you and—”

The laugh that leaves him is giddy and you have half the nerve to melt, but he’s kissing you for the first time since that day in the forest and you’re putty in his hands. 

“Wow,” he whispers when you break away to stand on your tiptoes and wind your arms around his neck. “I didn’t think…”

You’re kissing him again, fervently, like you’re trying to make up for lost time and he can’t help the tickling behind his navel or the heat that starts from his toes and burns all the way up his chest. 

Your skin is plush under the pads of his wandering hands and those three words, spoken into the hum of the surrounding jungle is all the confirmation that he needs that it’s you and him forever. 

“Wait, wait,” he sighs breathlessly. “I have–” 

A hand snakes between your bodies, fingers digging into the pouch strapped across his broad chest.

You watch with viscous eyes as he pulls what looks to be a gilded ring, tiny in circumference. Two pieces of thin vine cord through either side, beaded with pearlescent stones and smooth gems. 

“I…” he trails off, scratching the back of his neck as you fall back on the heels of your feet, arms loosening from around his neck to give him the room to hold it up to you. “It’s one of the only things I care about from Earth.” 

Your browbones twitch. 

“The ring’s been in my family for a while,” he says gently. “But it’s probably too small and I know that Na’vi don’t wear things on their fingers and–” 

“It’s beautiful, Jake,” you say softly, palm pressing against his chest. 

He grins, sliding the heirloom up your wrist to rest snugly around the flesh of your bicep.

“Perfect,” he murmurs to himself. 

And when your eyes swing from the gift to meet his gaze, you find him already staring down at you tenderly.

“I don’t…” you trail off, suddenly shy under such intensity. “I don’t have anything for you.” 

Jake barks out a laugh, corner of his lips quirking up in a lopsided smile as he cups your face in his hands and brings his forehead to yours. 

“Don’t need to give me anything,” he says quickly, breaths warm and lips a hairsbreadth from your own. “Just tell me you love me again, that’s enough.” 

Your face is indescribably warm under his cool touch. 

“And maybe another kiss,” he adds coyly, then a hand skims over the small of your back, dangerously close to your tail. “Or more…if you want.” 

neng © 2023

taglist; @nao-cchi , @jkiminpark , @philiasoul @amart-e , @s-u-t , @junieswrlds , @tayswiftlovebot , @dumb-fawkin-bitch , @neteyamo , @fanboyluvr , @mazemymirror , @theycallmesia , @girlpostingsposts, @athenachu , @hiya-itsamber , @morks-watermelon , @sanfransolomitatm , @lovedbychoi

[sinisterexaggerator]

Summary: Nick Valentine hardly ever leaves your thoughts, but you're barely on his radar. Your infatuation takes a rather interesting turn; you're caught red-handed in his bed, wearing candy apple lipstick and a freshly laundered dress. What is to become of you? Will you be able to confess your feelings, or will you run away instead?

Warning: NSFW / 18+ for masturbation/being caught in the act, kissing, cunnilingus, fingering, mild wire play, angst, drama, "love" confessions, and sass.

Word count: 5.9K

Notes: I may make a part two for this after "you" get to know each other a little better. I don't see Nick letting just anybody play with his innards all willy-nilly, but I had a lot of fun writing it!

Read on Ao3

It wasn’t an eyesore, and neither was the Synth who owned it, luminescent neon laid out in letters, an arrhythmic fluctuation in voltage causing a delay in current every three point five seconds—you had counted.

How could a man with the last name Valentine—whose brand was marked with a heart pierced by Cupid’s arrow—not see the underlying machinations from which your attention spurred?

He was a detective, no less, unable to work out your motivations, not understanding that every nuance—every quirk of your lips, every gleam in your eye, every smile—was for him, because of him, and that you had long ago fallen for his wit, his charm, his mind, and for his heart.

A man who wasn’t a man—thrown together in some lab—though that needn’t be your concern. It mattered little if he was flesh and bone or biomechanical, though his kind was greatly feared and for good reason.

Nick was different, he was a diamond in the rough of Diamond City, shining more brightly than even the Valentine Detective Agency’s ostentatious signage. A do-gooder who never tired, a being whose higher purpose rested not with himself, but with others, giving more to the people of the Commonwealth than they rightfully deserved.

For all the hate, intolerance, and ignorance Nick dealt with on the daily, he dished out love, empathy and acceptance in equal measure, though he was not one to take an insult lying down.

He was also passionate; fiery beneath a calm and collected disposition, his habitually stoic makeup a steadying force and welcomed counterbalance to the restless biome that flourished within these walls.

It was when he spoke to you the first time that you became enamored with his personality, whether artificial, finding him to be bold and charismatic. He had asked what brought you to the neighborhood—you were a trader who lost your caravan, your guards, nothing left but the caps in your pocket. 

Luckily for you, a man named Arturo Rodriguez had been contemplating the idea of extending his hours for quite some time, his competition employing a salvaged Mister Handy named Percy to sell goods even in the dead of night—it was a case of being in the right place at the right time, one you were thankful for.

It became engrained into his subroutine, these evening visitations, Nick sharing bits and pieces of his history with you for a lack of customers, though oftentimes short and sweet as he kept himself busy. There was always a new crime to be investigated, or a new case to be solved.

Truth be told, the detective was worried about you—a solitary woman—being out there by your lonesome at such late hours. All kinds of riffraff ushered themselves in off the streets, not caring what time of the day it was.

Diamond City was a safe haven as much as it was a magnet for undesirables, those men and women of ill repute that made life difficult for hardworking people just trying to get by. Security could only do so much; it was common for slime to slip through the cracks, portions of the city less fortified than others.

Still, Nick felt Arturo ought to be ashamed, getting a broad to do his dirty work. Little did he know this job had been a godsend, or that you were tougher than a two-dollar steak and twice as hard to chew.

Call him a gentleman, but Valentine, on more than one occasion, had gone out of his way unbeknownst to you, changing his route home simply to check in on your stall. 

“Workin’ hard, or hardly workin’?” Nick had inquired, the corner of his mouth creeping upward to indicate his offhanded chiasmus was merely a good-natured tease. 

“You know me,” you had answered back, “total slacker.”

“Stickin’ it to the man, glad to hear it,” he would drawl, voice dry and deadpan yet soothing to the ears. Even though Nick was cordial with Arturo, he didn’t mind having a joke at his expense.

“Doing my part,” you replied, wishing he’d step closer, wishing he would stay and chat a while.

“Stay out of trouble, doll,” he’d warn, tipping the brim of his hat; you were in awe at how a single monosyllabic word could drive you toward such filthy imaginings as you were then, reveling in that passing instant he had paid you mind.  

Mission accomplished, Nick would wander off to park himself at the Agency, unaware that for the rest of the night your mind was wholly occupied by impure thoughts—and it was all his fault. It was ridiculous that a simple term of endearment expressed so casually could nearly short-circuit your human brain, yet here you were.

Could he make love to you if you asked? Would he touch you if you begged him to? 

You supposed his existence was an adventurous one, wishing you could participate in something other than this humdrum life, though you assumed you ought to be grateful you were alive at all.

But it unnerved you—angered you to no end— to hear the drivel that oozed like poison from out the mouths of bigots when they spoke of Nick Valentine in his absence. They declared he was not sentient, that an intelligence such as his was naïve to think of itself as self-aware, as if they were any more autonomous than he, choosing to act of their own free-will by way of insults and disgraceful slurs.

Arturo had been accommodating, allowing you the top floor of his home until you could get on your feet. Such things were heard from rooftops, echoing beyond thin strips of sheet metal to leech its way into your ears. You roosted, enjoying the wide-open view of the sky and the clouds drifting by, only for your mood to sour, tempted to shout obscenities at the offender—usually Myrna— from your place in the dark.

You valued Nick’s company despite the rumors or the gossip about the Institute, ignoring the fact he was a Synth. You wondered if something was wrong with you, finding your short exchanges to be a thousand times more stimulating than any discourse with your neighbors—Valentine’s smile alone was worth more than all the caps in the world.

You often daydreamed about his cybernetic eyes looking down at you from your place atop his mattress, bright as sunbeams, imbued with radiant golden light. They were the windows to his soul—and you were convinced he had one— no one could tell you otherwise.

Then, more questions came. Could man love machine? Could machine love man? Ethical quandaries that knew no bounds. Those of narrow minds might call it an abomination in the eyes of God, while for others it might cause confusion, or effectuate ridicule.

Somehow, none of that would matter, not if Nick returned what was undeniably blossoming into not just admiration, but desire. Could Synths feel desire? Could androids dream?

And the man did flirt, if only feigning attraction, but not with you—you did not assume you were boring or undesirable, but you carried yourself the opposite of Piper, or even his assistant, Ellie. These women were always present in his life, women you tried not to be jealous of, though the ease with which they spoke, the familiarity of their years together ate away at you, knowing you might never reach the level of intimacy you so craved.

Besides, nothing good came of getting close to someone in this day and age, yet you wanted to be—scared of heartbreak, of them being stolen from you too soon, or of being sorely disappointed should they show themselves to be something other than what you thought them to be. There were risks at every turn; you had to decide—would you ever be brave enough to tell him how you felt?

Then, one day, you heard about the love between Ms. Edna and Mr. Zwicky, a robot and a human getting married of all things—it’s what prompted you to stand outside Nick’s door right this very moment, staring long enough at the glowing, heart-shaped outline for it to be burned into your retinas.

The sun was sinking just beyond the wall, Diamond City winding down as its citizens took shelter in their homes or closed up shop—it was thankfully one of your nights off.

You couldn’t get it out of your head, the very idea of a single touch, a single kiss—an affectionate word shared, a smile meant just for you. To make him smile would be the most gratifying thing of all. Too often Valentine looked glum, his thoughts weighing on him, dragging him down along with all the horrors that came with living in a post-apocalyptic society.

To kiss it away, to ensconce him in your embrace—to make him forget he wasn’t human, if only for a few minutes—your heart raced at all the possibilities, all he had to do was let you in.

You assumed a knock was in order, deep, slow breaths doing little to calm your nerves. You had adorned a dress for the occasion, something someone had traded for extra ammo. It was soft blue in color, and in relatively good condition. Ultimately, it was clean, and that was all that mattered to you. Arturo had no use for it, so it had wound up in your possession. Now you would wear it to confess, though you were nervous, a wellspring of anxiety having burgeoned behind your ribs.

“What’s the worst that can happen?” you had asked yourself, fingers curling as you raised your arm. After a few more seconds delay, you made a move to rap against the door, painted red to match the sign out front. There was just one problem—it opened before you could, Ellie’s eyes widening as she jerked a step backward, the woman obviously on her way out.

She said your name, denoting her surprise. You would quickly apologize, already on edge.

“Sorry, Ellie, I—” You paused, averting your eyes to stare at the ground that had suddenly become so interesting. “I was hoping to see Nick,” you bashfully admitted.

The woman quirked a brow, amused for some unknown reason, as if she was in on your little secret just by the way you carried yourself. You attempted to straighten up, offering her a smile to throw her off your scent; you weren’t sure that it was working, though she was kind enough not to comment.

“He stepped out a few hours ago,” she informed you, “but he should be back any minute. You can wait here if you like, but I promised Cathy I’d go have a drink with her.” Ellie gave a halfhearted laugh, “apparently she needs a night out away from her husband.”

“Al-all right,” you managed, supposing Nick was hardly ever “home,” what with being hired for everything under the sun from finding missing cats to tracking down murderers—you only hoped for his safe and swift return.

“I’ll leave the door unlocked,” she offered, holding it open; you timidly stepped forward, Ellie giving you a small wave on her way out.

It was not until that moment you realized you had never stepped foot inside Valentine’s Detective Agency, something you felt ashamed of—maybe he assumed you had no interest in his work. The thought caused a frown to form, but you didn’t want to lose track of why you were here, though finding no harm in taking a look around.

You were respectful, not having it in you to snoop or pry, no matter how many folders lay open or scattered about his desk. There were copies of old newspapers, the latest from Publick Occurrences, rusty filing cabinets, overloaded cardboard boxes, and clipboards with scribbled notes attached.

You spied holotapes of unknown origin, scraps of memorabilia from times long since passed. Items you could only guess at—clues, maybe? Not to mention an assortment of tools, perhaps left over from Nick’s days as a handyman—he’d told you stories, though the idea made you uncomfortable, somehow—the Synth reduced to making household repairs when he was a being of such remarkable intelligence.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, having found yourself sitting at the man’s cluttered workspace. You stared at the painting before you, a tranquil forest scene that had been tarnished by years of grime and dust. A half-smoked cigarette in a nearby ashtray caught your eye; you surprised yourself by picking it up, placing the filter between lips painted a pretty candy apple red, having decorated yourself with a little lipstick for the occasion—you could hardly think of a better time to wear it.

The stale scent of nicotine invaded your nostrils, its taste pungent on your tongue. You struck a match against its book, wanting to experience something that had graced Nick’s synthetic lips, if you couldn’t do so firsthand.

Smoke drifted toward the ceiling, diffusing in loose curls above your head as you exhaled, feeling yourself becoming aroused by your salacious daydreams. You leaned back in Nick’s chair with a faint smile, closing your eyes to more clearly picture his face.

Your free hand groped your own breast, teeth biting down on tender flesh, imagining what it might be like for Valentine’s mechanical fingers to touch you; would it feel cold like metal, or warm like machinery? Sharp like the point of a knife, or smooth like purified silver?

You sighed with longing, chest rising and falling as you stared at the ceiling. You took another drag, finding the burn to be unpleasant as the cigarette reached its end. You bent forward and extinguished it in that same ashtray—Nick would never know the difference—forgetting your lipstick would leave a stain behind.

You normally weren’t one to smoke, feeling slightly buzzed upon standing, riding the tiny high the nicotine gave you as you spied a small space off to your right; you had yet to explore it. There was nothing to keep you out, no locks, no warning signs; you tiptoed forward, as if committing a crime that warranted the use of stealth, peeking around the corner to find a staircase, and a bed.

You glanced upward through the cracks in the floorboards; another mattress was positioned above you, but the personal effects scattered about on the bottom floor let you know this was Nick’s corner, the file folders and spare fedora on his nightstand giving it away.

You snatched the hat, twirling it over in your hands. It was one you hadn’t seen him wear too often, but that was in better condition than the one he sported on the regular, having the bold idea to place it directly on your head.

Of course, there was no mirror to admire yourself in.

You would just have to use your imagination, skimming the rim with two fingers, just like Valentine. You tipped the brim to no one, spinning once to let the full skirt of your pre-war dress swirl around your calves. Feeling pretty, you plopped down gracefully on Nick’s bare bed, wondering if Arturo might have a spare set of sheets you could gift him—did Synths sleep, you wondered? Did Nick lie here awake at night, staring at this same ceiling as you were now?

You sighed, tipping the hat lower, catching onto the unusual scent embedded within its fibers. You pressed your nose against faded leather, inhaling deeply of this strange fragrance, idly twisting bits of clean cotton, not used to wearing something so delicate and fancy; it felt odd, but the texture, the softness of the dress suited you.

This hat smelled like tobacco; ozone; coolant. Like a musty bar mixed with cigarettes. Like metal; like something organic; like wet earth after a radstorm—all things that in combination were uniquely Nick. It pulled a sigh from your lungs, loins aching for the Synth worse than ever, wishing that Valentine might show himself before you chickened out.

You thought to leave the bed; unpredicted were the moves you made to hike your dress up, legs spreading open as you gathered the excess bits of skirt into a fist. You held it to the height of your navel, exposing yourself before you had any real grasp on what you were doing, sliding the palm of your hand past your waist and hips, introducing two fingers to the elastic hem of your panties.

You grinned a little grin, feeling unlike yourself; naughty, for lack of a better word, inching your way beneath its thin layer to brush against your clit. You cooed a little sound, hips gyrating gently as you got comfortable, one of your two fingers gliding down, taking up a measure of your slick.

You massaged that part of you just begging for it, pinpricks of pleasure causing your nerves to tingle as the sensation traveled, extracting a subdued moan from bowed lips. You had the nerve to giggle, entertained in more ways than one, letting Nick’s hat fall flat against your face as you breathed in deeply, working that excitable nub in slow circles, taking your time.

You were just getting started, body reacting in tandem with your touch, exhilarated beyond comprehension at this singular act of bawdy desperation. You were where you always envisioned yourself to be, though now you conjured up something else—what some might call an abject fantasy, one where you explored the body of a robotic man to your heart’s content.

Smooth, hard flesh, or pliable and soft, warm against you, or cold like ice. Exposed wires and eyes stolen from the crown’s of angels, twin halos you would kill a man to see up close. Lips too kissable for one who wasn’t human, tongue and teeth all there, or between your legs. Metallic fingers, dexterous and nimble, the other good for groping all your biologic parts.

You were so close already, wondering if you might in some way be able to please him back. Would he have a cock you could stroke or suck? Could you dig around inside him? Could you find a button, or perhaps a jumble of loose wires to fondle, one that would make his machine-parts whir?

You covered your face more thoroughly with one arm, the fedora hiding you from your own shame. You pushed your hips into the bed as you felt the onset of an orgasm building in the seat of your belly, almost there, almost—

“Say, am I interrupting something?”

You practically screamed, throwing the fedora off with such speed it hit the bed and bounced. You shoved your dress down, embarrassed beyond belief, mortified as much as you were frightened, your heart racing as you pushed up off the Nick’s mattress and ran for the stairs. He had been so quiet—maybe there was a way out of here, up there. You would never live this down.

“Hey, now,” Nick chided, his voice taking on an austere quality that caused a bout of horripilation, the micro hairs on your arms standing at attention; the Synth had locked the fingers of his good hand around your wrist, pulling you back down to his level before pressing your body against the wall of his abode. He tilted his head, studying you with rapt attention and an almost morbid curiosity—he doubted you were some kind of adrenaline junkie, or even an exhibitionist for that matter.

“You think you can just waltz in here and use my bed to pleasure yourself without some kind of explanation? I’ve seen some things in my day, but this takes the cake.”

You could not face him, averting your eyes. His accusatory gaze was powerful, the catalyst for your tears, tiny droplets threatening to roll down your cheeks as you stammered a reply. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean t—”

“—You didn’t mean to masturbate?” Nick questioned, a sardonic tone lacing his old-world, Midwestern accent. “I find that hard to believe.”

There was a pause, Nick’s metallic fingers grasping you by the point of your chin. He gently guided you to face him, tears and all, his voice softening as he realized how sorry you seemed to be, though he was still skeptical.

He called you by your name, addressing you calmly, “at least be honest with me—this how you get your rocks off, or is this some kind of special occasion? If Ellie was here—”

“—she was the only who let me in,” you whispered, Nick so tantalizingly close, yet you were beside yourself in self-abasing horror at your own actions—how could you have been so stupid!? Of course he would find out, sooner or later—he was a private eye, a damn good one! Not to mention this was his place of business, his assistant trusting you well enough to behave yourself. You suddenly felt worse than before; you were sure he had seen everything.

“Huh,” Nick snorted, the gears of his artificial brain beginning to turn toward another direction. “Why the hell would she go and do a thing like that?"

You took a breath and gulped, finally having the courage to look, to get lost in the depths of  those parhelic circles he called eyes, wishing to speak, to find the right words, yet it was nearly impossible with the way he had so easily ensnared you.

“Cat got your tongue? Beginning to wonder just how many lights are on upstair—"

You steeled yourself; you kissed him rather than giving an explanation, wondering if this was another thing you would come to regret, though sparks danced behind your eyelids—worried for one moment they might be real, some side effect of physical contact—Nick forcing you off to where your back was returned to its spot against his bedroom wall.

They had been warm; his lips were warm.

“Oh, I get it now. You came here thinking you’d shoot your shot, but when I wasn’t home you got carried away in some sick fantasy, is that it? Decided to rub one out,” he derided, laying your sins out before you so coldly that your lip trembled; you struggled to break free.

“Valentine, please—"

“Could have just waited for me,” he offered; you froze with bated breath, his words having taken an unexpected turn—could he be serious, or was he simply toying with you as punishment?

“Gal like you isn’t exactly hard on the eyes…”  

“You’re not upset?” you asked breathily, chest heaving, wide, round eyes searching his for confirmation.

“Upset you thought you could get away with this,” he muttered, brushing his mouth against yours, Nick’s skeletal hand holding your chin steady. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine that he would indulge you, feeling yourself melt against the solid brick of his Diamond City home. “Not exactly a secret you fancy me; can read it all over your face, just never thought you’d have the guts to do a thing like this.”

“I couldn’t help it,” you pleaded, your own hand lifting, exploring the texture of his tattered coat, rising higher to caress the portion of his flesh still intact just below the fissure that extended beyond the brim of his hat. “Then why didn’t you say something? I only meant to tell you how you make me feel,” you whispered, eagerly returning that kiss, introducing your wet human tongue to his.

“How’s that?” he asked, ignoring the first part of your question—he wasn’t about to tell you you’d have to make the first move, he didn’t have to—his inviolate hand sliding down the dip in your waist to rest against your hip. He gave it a squeeze, aware of his own strength, applying just enough pressure to excite you, no more, no less.

“Ravenous,” you exclaimed, hiking your leg, encircling him to draw in close like you were playing the part of some wily seductress in a pre-war film. You emitted a dulcet moan, digits inching across the back of his head, taking the time to kiss Valentine more deeply in your lust.

Nick was quick, supporting your ass in his firm grip, securing your leg as he pressed his inorganic frame against yours that was supple and pliant; he met your hunger head on. “Good thing I know a trick or two.”

You shivered with anticipation, despite the Synth being almost hot to the touch. Silicone fingers disappeared up your long, flowing skirt, but only after he was sure you were both comfortably entangled.

Valentine kissed a question up the side of your neck toward lipstick-laden lips. “You wear this for me?” he asked, motioning his head toward your bartered dress.

“Y-yes,” you stammered, grasping his tie, feeding your words directly into his smug mouth. “Wanted to look pretty for you,” you conceded.

“Only thing more lovely than a bird in blue is a woman who wears her confidence like a second skin. Tell me you didn’t walk in here thinkin’ you could pull me, or are you just a nightingale pretending to be a peacock, flaunting your feathers, yet too afraid to show me your true colors?”

You were floored; you could not answer, having hoped that you could sway him, but doubting your plan from the get-go. You dare not tell him, too shy to admit your shortcomings, and too proud to acknowledge he had hit the nail on the head. Instead, you stared unabashedly, even as your cheeks burned, swallowing down the knot in your throat as you remained transfixed on eyes that glowed like candles in the dark.

“Too bad,” Valentine teased, rousing you from your stupor by way of calculated movements beneath your dress, “Suppose I’ll have to find out the hard way.”

Your breath hitched as the tips of faux fingers thoughtfully guided your panties to one side, Valentine expertly trailing his forefinger through your excess to the top of your slit. The Synth grazed the swollen sheath of glands pulsating adamantly between your legs, finding his rhythm, administering just enough friction to get a rise out of you, as intended.

“Nick,” you gasped, the fingers of one hand still cinched around his tie as the fingers of the other clawed into false flesh. He slid back down, following that happy little trail of slickness, its viscosity registering as wet against microscopic sensors, Nick’s index finger delving into something so moist, so soft.

“Speak to me, sweetheart. Tell me how long you’ve dreamt of this; tell me this isn’t some dime-store hookup you’re using to scratch an itch; tell me this means somethin’, I dare you,” he growled darkly into your ear.

You could only whimper as he worked you, aiming for the seat of your pleasure, Nick’s thumb running concentric circles around your turgid clit in perfect unison with that part of him that was introducing pressure to your G-spot. You had the gall to rock your hips, balancing like a flamingo on one leg, though he held you close between himself and the wall, not once allowing you to think you might stumble and fall.

“Always think of you, where you are, what you’re up to,” you breathed. “Never leave my mind.”

“What else?” he asked, brazenly steeping another finger, your soaked cunt riding both together as you shamelessly kept undulating your pelvic arch, already so near to climax.

“Dreamt of kissing you, making love to you. Wanted to know what touching you might feel like, warm, co-cold,” you moaned. “If you could ever want me back, if y-you knew just how much I adore you, how much I wish to be the one to make you smile…”

“Is that right?” Nick titillated you toward orgasm without any extra effort, feeling yourself spill out all over him as you vocalized to the heavens, Valentine not relenting until you were spent. Then, he retracted as simple as that, lifting you up, the Synth forcing you to wrap that other leg around him in order to carry you the few feet between him and the bed.

“And did you ever think of what you’d do if I didn’t have the parts?” he began, tossing you carefully onto the mattress. You watched in longing as he shucked his trench off for it to slide down the length of his arms, gathering in a pile at his feet.

“Fuck. It wouldn’t matter,” you insisted, sitting up on the palms of your hands. “It wouldn’t matter,” you repeated more urgently, adjusting to crawl forward, unable to keep yourself from him now that you had a taste.

“And what you’d do if I didn’t reciprocate?” The hat was next, tossed haphazardly off to the side.

You gaped at him, unable to come up with a satisfactory response, scouring his pleasing form from head to toe with your eyes, admiring his shoulder holster, his weapon of choice, and the suspenders that dug into his shoulders.

“I’m more machine than man; typically… disappointing to dames like you. But I’ve got nothing to hide, and I mean that literally,” he quipped, loosening and discarding his tie. What he did next surprised you, Valentine placing one knee on the bed. He pushed you backward, fitting himself right between your thighs.

“Never stopped me before,” he muttered, coercing you to lie back. In the blink of an eye, he had slipped your panties down and off, flipping the tail end of your skirt up and over your lap, exposing the soft mound between your legs.

“It’s like riding a bicycle,” he commented; how to go down on a beautiful woman was not something he would soon forget, no matter he wasn’t in the body he was born with.

You gasped before settling into a melodious moan as he swiped his tongue across your sensitive bud, Nick noticing you were tuned to the key of C, a low-frequency tonal sound that made his robotic brain buzz with something akin to happiness.

Before you knew it, he had buried himself, embedding his articulate tongue in your tepid core. Responsive biosensors did their job of transmitting physiological data concerning the presence of chemical compounds that happened to be coming into contact with his face; the detective was well aware of what that meant without having to overthink it, appreciative of the way you writhed against the bed.

“Valentine,” you mewled, arm reaching, fingers stretching to caress a hinged jaw made of filaments and wires, more unbidden tears finding their way to your eyes.

“Kiss me,” you implored, exploring the sharp contours of his inhumane face, the actuate planes and angles, the rough textures, the smooth remnants, the electrical undercurrent that hummed beneath the surface of his pseudo-flesh, causing you to cry out as he obliged, but not in the way you had expected.

Nick lapped at your cunt like it was a second mouth, attentive to every little move your body made as it wriggled and quivered, spasming with each long lick. He showed no mercy, relentlessly fucking you with his spongy tongue at a slow and steady pace, brushing the back of an alloyed finger along the cut where hip met thigh.

“Please,” you tried again, though in your heart of hearts you did not want him to stop. He refocused on your clit, being oh-so careful as he slid a single metallic digit into your wet pith, tensile fibers remaining elongated so as not to maim and injure, but to experiment, your pelvic muscles clenching around him as he began to suck.

“I can’t,” you professed, unable to elaborate, to stop your mounting orgasm. Your back arched as your hips bucked upward to meet his all too talented mouth, forcing a sound out of you that was reminiscent of pain but indicative of pleasure as you came a second time that night, Nick withdrawing his hand, his carbon-ferrous finger, pulling back to look you in the eye.

“Sweetheart, did I—”

Valentine flexed his unsheathed digits, composed of bare metal, his forefinger saturated and glistening, yet he was worried. His painted brows quirked upward as he rose to meet your face, his palm fitting itself around the curve of your waist, as gentle as can be.

He stared into your soul with those penetrative, aureate eyes, wishing you hadn’t of done that. Wishing he hadn’t of done that—it had been just plain ignorant on his part, but he didn’t figure you’d go and move so suddenly. And truth be told, you were beautiful, a thing too good to pass up. He wasn’t exactly a hot commodity these days, though a part of him—the inhuman part—didn’t think he was worth it.

Still, it was a difficult thing to just give up when he had urges, needs, wants, desires—or at least he thought he did. It was hard to tell where the real Nick began and Synth Nick ended, but for now he was experiencing an emotion that was real enough to give him pause.

“Are you all right?” he asked softly, his mood turning toward something serious, Valentine wondering if he had caused anything irreparable. He didn’t think he could live with himself if he’d gone and hurt an innocent—especially like this—despite the fact he wasn’t exactly alive to begin with.

You did not answer, studying the change in his demeanor, observing as his tough guy persona disappeared to be replaced by the sweet, caring man you had grown to cherish over the past few months.

He was two sides of the same coin, but you had known that going in, purposefully trailing your fingers across denuded metal toward a gathering of thick red wires, caressing the coils between the gap in his neck with the utmost tenderness.

“I’ve never been better,” you promised, appraising the look of quiet bliss that overtook him, realizing this sort of thing might be his little secret—he came back to himself just in time to put a halt to your investigation, the Synth oddly silent as he searched for something deep within your eyes.

“But I want to make you feel good,” you offered with a genuine pout, but Nick held fast to your wrist, going back to how this whole game had started. His apprehension was clear, the detective reading like an overdue library book. You couldn’t help but feel a little sad, a little disappointed, instead climbing onto his lap, draping yourself over his sound thighs.

“I don’t let just anyone poke around inside me—what makes you think you’ll make the cut?” he asked, slipping a stray bit of hair behind your ear in a gesture so human it made your heart ache.

“I’m not here to hurt you, Nick.” It was the truth.

He’d redirect you for now, but you couldn’t blame him— you were surprised that you had even gotten this far.

“I’ve got a better idea,” he replied. “Tell me something about yourself. What do I need to know besides exactly how you taste?”

You smiled, assuming that one day he might trust you well enough to return the favor.

Baby steps. You could be patient. The only thing that mattered was that at that moment, you had him to yourself.

“I once killed a Yao guai with my bear hands,” you joked, taking the time to notice just how many kiss marks you had left all over him—time to add one more, just to play it safe.

“There they are.”

“What?”

“Your true colors.”

Your lips spread into a mischievous grin.

“On second thought, I think I’m going to need a drink for this.”

At least he hadn’t kicked you out yet.  

“That’s fair,” you said.

[er-osion]

Haldir Headcanons

pairing: Haldir x gn!Reader

summary: relationship headcanons with Haldir of Lórien. [SFW]

word count: 789

warnings: none, fluff

∾∾∘⋅∗⋄⋆⋄∗⋅∘∾∾

- He is such a chill boyfriend.

- He’s the epitome of calm like 99% of the time and it really brings stability to your relationship.

- He seems pretty serious, and he is, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be fun. His humor is definitely dry, but once you get it, you get it and you’re always cracking up because he always makes the right joke at just the right moment.

- He can be pretty quiet so a lot of your time spent together will most likely be in comfortable silence.

- I think he’d prefer to show his love via quality time and words of affirmation. While his words of affirmation may not be spoken very often, they are always heavy with sincerity and very personal to you and your relationship.

- Haldir definitely likes using pet names like “my darling” or “meleth” or “sweetheart” and he uses them quite often, even in public. He also has nicknames for you that come from inside jokes, but he usually saves those for more private company.

- Haldir just loves spending time with you, he doesn’t care so much about what you’re doing, as long as you’re together. He’s happy just sitting quietly at home, doing your own things in the same room, or going out to do an activity. So long as the two of you are together, and you’re happy, he’s happy.

- Haldir likes to see you smile. Just seeing you smile brightens his day and makes him so much happier. He likes to tell you that your smile shines brighter than all the lights in Lothlórien. When he’s coming home from patrol, he’s actually looking forward to seeing your face while you're smiling. There’s something about the light in your face when you’re grinning that makes his heart pick up its pace.

- Haldir isn’t super great at communication though. Being quiet is his nature, and that can include his feelings. It’s kind of a slow start for you in getting him to open up. It still takes effort sometimes too, he just naturally keeps things to himself. This has been a point of some arguments, but both of you dislike fighting and understand what to do to avoid such things. So fortunately, actual arguments are few and far between.

- Haldir doesn’t like PDA. He’s quite professional and private so PDA doesn’t really mix with him. He doesn’t ignore or avoid you in public, just don’t expect big displays of affection because he’s not very comfortable with that. But, if the two of you have spent a lengthy amount of time apart, he’ll hold your hand in public and maybe even give you a chaste forehead kiss because he missed you.

- Haldir is surprisingly passionate, especially after he’s been away from you for a while. His passion can appear a little different though. For example, sometimes he’ll kiss you with desperate fervor and fire, but other times he’ll kiss you slowly and deeply but still with equal passion. His heart is always present in all his actions with you

- Haldir doesn’t drink a lot, but during festivals or other celebrations he’ll sometimes indulge and when he does, all he talks about is you. Haldir will drunkenly ramble about how pretty you are, how intelligent you are, how talented you are, etc etc. Those around him will find it equal parts endearing and annoying. His pale cheeks would be dusted with pink from both alcohol and thoughts of you.

- Haldir would be super happy with getting domestic with you. He loves those simple moments; getting groceries from the market, going shopping for your individual hobbies, doing the laundry, cooking. Haldir loves to be domestic with you.

- Haldir is very attentive to your needs. He may not say it or outwardly express it, but you can tell by his actions. If you’re sad, your favorite snacks will appear out of nowhere. If you ran out of supplies for a hobby or finished a book, new supplies or a new book will show up on your nightstand without a word. Whatever it is you need, Haldir notices and quietly takes care of it. He may not always be able to do it since he’s quite busy as Marchwarden, but when he has the chance, he takes care of all your needs.

- Haldir feels like he’s always falling in love with you. There will be moments when the two of you are together and he’ll just take you in and get that sensation of falling in love all over again. He’ll never get sick of it either, it’s one the greatest joys of his day.

- Haldir loves you so much, it’s a quiet kind of love but it’s strong all the same. He does everything he can to make sure you know that everyday. One of the things he’s proudest of in his life is his relationship with you. He prays to Eru that he’ll be with you until the end of Arda, so long as you’ll have him.

[girl-next-door-writes]

Two Princes

Characters: Loki x reader

Summary: Torn between Thor’s steadfast love and Loki’s magnetic allure, you must choose which Asgardian prince will claim your heart.

Word Count: 1707 words

Prompt: Two Princes – The Spin Doctors

A/N: For @caplanbuckybarnes Decades Challenge. 

The warm golden glow of twilight bathed the room, creating a soft haze in contrast to the palpable tension hanging in the air. Standing in the meeting hall of New Asgard, you felt the weight of two pairs of eyes on you. One gaze was familiar, teasing, playful, and filled with warmth. The other was intense, cold, calculating—yet equally magnetic.

Loki and Thor, two princes of Asgard, stood before you. Each was a force of nature in his own right, and both were vying for something you never thought they’d want from you: your affection.

"Have you made your decision yet?" Loki asked, his lips curled into a half-smirk as he leaned casually against the wall, but you could see the storm brewing in his emerald eyes.

Thor stood tall, arms crossed, his massive frame radiating authority, yet his blue eyes softened as they met yours. "I would never force you. You know that. But you must choose."

You sighed, your heart pounding against your chest. How had things gotten so complicated?

It had started simply enough. You had been asked to keep an eye on the Asgardians as they settled in their new land.

Thor was your first real connection. From the moment he met you, he was charming, kind, and always attentive. You were drawn to him, not just because of his looks or status, but because he radiated warmth. Thor was like the sun—bright, reliable, and so easy to be around. With Thor, life felt simple, like everything would be alright as long as he was near. He would fight for you, protect you, and give you a life of adventure.

But then there was Loki. The dark prince, the trickster, the enigma who had always seemed just beyond your reach. Loki’s attention had been unexpected. He had watched you with amusement from a distance at first, his sharp wit often at your expense. But you saw beyond his sarcasm. Beneath the layers of mischief, there was a vulnerability to Loki that tugged at your heart. With him, everything felt unpredictable, exciting, but also dangerous. Loki was the night to Thor’s day—a storm waiting to sweep you away.

It had been a simple conversation with Loki that changed things. You had spoken about magic, of the realms beyond, and the weight of loneliness. That evening, something shifted between you. His gaze softened, his words became less biting, and his walls began to crumble just a little. The connection with Loki was electric, but it came with a price—the constant question of trust. With Loki, you were never quite sure if what you saw was what you got.

Now, you were caught between them. Thor had made his feelings for you clear. He didn’t need to woo you with tricks or fancy words; he simply laid his heart bare. "I want you by my side." he had said one evening while the two of you stood looking out over the harbor. "Not as a subject of Asgard, but as my equal. You belong here, with me."

It was easy with Thor—so easy it was almost tempting to just say yes. But something held you back.

Loki, on the other hand, was a different story. He never outright confessed his feelings, but his actions spoke louder than words. The way he would linger in the shadows during formal gatherings, always keeping an eye on you, the subtle ways he’d brush his hand against yours, the long, silent conversations shared through stolen glances. He had whispered to you one night, “I could give you the world, if you dared to follow me into it.”

The rivalry between the brothers was no secret, but now, it had taken a far more personal turn. Thor was everything any sane person would want: kind, heroic. But Loki—Loki was a world of passion and danger. You were drawn to him like a moth to a flame, despite the warnings.

“Choose me,” Loki said, his voice softer now as he stepped closer. His long fingers brushed a lock of hair from your face, and your skin tingled from his touch. “We don’t belong in the light. Not entirely. You and I… we could be extraordinary.”

Thor frowned but remained composed. “Loki, this isn’t about power or proving something. It’s about her heart. Let her decide freely.”

You looked between them, torn. Loki, who stirred something wild and untamed inside you, and Thor, who offered stability and unconditional love.

Weeks passed, and you avoided making a decision, hoping for clarity. But it never came. As you spent time with each of them, you realised the depth of their feelings, and the intensity of the rivalry that had only grown between the brothers. They were both so different, yet each one drew out a part of you that you couldn’t deny.

One evening, Loki invited you for a stroll along the coastline. It was quiet, the stars above twinkling in a velvet sky. He looked at you with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. “You feel it too, don’t you?” he asked softly, stepping closer until you could feel the warmth of his body next to yours.

You swallowed hard. "Feel what?"

“This pull between us,” he whispered, his eyes locking with yours. “It’s not something you can ignore forever. You and I… we’re alike. The darkness, the magic, the rebellion. You know you want more than Thor can offer.”

Your heart raced. You did feel something for him—something deep and consuming. But Thor's face flashed in your mind. He had been nothing but honest with you, and the last thing you wanted was to hurt him. Loki might be right about the connection you shared, but could you really trust him with your heart?

“It isn’t that simple.” You sighed, torn as you looked up at him.

“It can be. I could be so simple.” Loki said softly, true vulnerability in his eyes. “I know that I am not always the easiest person to be around, but… but you make me feel like who I am may be enough. Please. Please choose me.”

"I... I don't know," you whispered desperately, stepping back from Loki. "I need time."

That was when Thor found you. His eyes fell on Loki, and a familiar tension filled the air. “Brother, I think it’s time we let her breathe. This constant pull isn’t helping.”

Loki’s jaw clenched and you could see his walls coming back up as he stepped back, giving you space. "I won't wait forever." he warned, before disappearing into the night.

Thor approached you cautiously. “I’m not like him,” he said softly, brushing a gentle hand against your arm. “I won’t make promises of worlds or magic. But I can promise you honesty, love, and a life of adventure. I’ll never make you doubt where you stand with me… and I would never make you feel bad if you decided your heart lay elsewhere.”

Your heart ached. How were you supposed to choose between them?

As days turned into weeks, you found yourself reflecting on what each brother offered. Loki was a tempest—a force that would sweep you off your feet, filling your veins with fire and daring you to chase the unknown. You thought of the secretive glances shared in shadowed corridors, the thrill of his touch, like lightning barely contained. But could you ever truly trust him?

Thor, on the other hand, was the embodiment of stability, his presence like an anchor in the storm. You remembered the warmth of his arm around you as you both watched the stars, his voice a steady hum of promises he would never break. Life with him would be simpler, yes. Safer, maybe. But did your heart crave that kind of safety?

You woke one morning your decision as clear as an azure sky in the depths of summer. The choice had settled in your heart, and while it wasn’t easy, it felt right.

You found both brothers in the meeting hall. Their eyes watched you expectantly as you entered.

Taking a deep breath, you looked at Thor first. “I care about you, Thor. You’ve shown me things I never thought possible. But…”

Thor's face tightened, his eyes reflecting a brief, raw ache that he quickly hid behind a soft, resigned smile. "I see. I accept your decision." His fingers lingered against yours, just long enough for you to feel the warmth of his skin—and then he lifted your hand, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles. When he released you, his voice was a murmur, almost too quiet to hear. "Be happy, that's all I ask." Without another word, he turned and walked out of the hall, his shoulders squared but his steps slower than usual.

You turned to Loki, nerves twisting in your stomach as his sharp gaze searched your face, guarded but vulnerable, as if bracing himself for the blow.

"Loki..." you whispered, stepping closer.

He gave a nervous laugh, a flash of uncertainty in his eyes that he quickly masked with a smirk. "On second thought, perhaps it's better if you don't say anything." He looked away, jaw tightening. "I think I already know."

You took his hand, refusing to let him slip away. "No, Loki. You need to hear this." “Very well.” Loki braced himself for what he believed was inevitable rejection.

"Loki, you are... impossible," you said, voice catching. "Infuriating, reckless, unpredictable." You tightened your grip on his hand, feeling his pulse quicken under your fingers. "And yet, somehow, you've made a place for yourself in my heart. Against all reason, all logic... I choose you."

His eyes widened, flickering with disbelief. "You... choose me?" he whispered, as if the words were a spell that might break if spoken too loudly. “I do.”

The two of you stood there, sharing a fragile, unspoken promise in the stillness of the hall. But even as Loki's hand tightened around yours, a shadow of doubt lingered in your mind—a warning whisper that he could be as fleeting as a storm. You brushed the thought aside, smiling up at him, hoping desperately that this time, he wouldn’t break your heart.

[roxineedstosleep]

how are you? How you're doing well. I was wondering what yandere bruce wayne woild be like to his s/o and kid they had together? Would he treat them differently than the other family,would he be protective etc? Personally I think his tendencies would be ×2 if the kid looked like his s/o

oh and how would the batfam be? (Jason,dick,tim,damian)

A baby from his beloved SO!

(This is just a refference of OS and Bruce’s baby, a baby and daddy time)

I would say that, indeed, this child would be loved. Really love and wanted, at least by Bruce. (TW: he replace SO’s natality control pills)

Mind you, Bruce loves all his children equally, he really does! And definitely that his new offspring would have shared ties with the reader would just be the icing on the cake; Bruce would love his reader's baby even if it didn't have his genes running through its veins.

Would his yandere tendencies apply to the baby? At the moment I think he'd be looking to tap into all those facets that he missed out on with his other children.

Sure, adopted kids are loved and wanted, but Bruce never changed Dick's nappies, or made Jason's lunch airplane, Tim never experienced the first day of school with Bruce. He adores them with a passion and would sacrifice himself for them, he knows it and so do his kids; that's more than enough. But, as I said, they couldn't experience the things that a baby or a child could with him.

With Damian, as much as he is his son by blood he was denied several things; firstly, if it wasn't for Ras's disappearance and Thalia's need to seize power, Bruce would never have found out about Damian. So he could never exercise full parternship with him. Sure, he's grateful that Damian came into his life as a child, but after that, he really wonders a lot of things about early childhood and his time as a baby.

So, from what you can speculate, he would go crazy with love when he sees the whole pregnancy process. He'd take his wife to all the best doctors' appointments, make the room next to him the baby's new nursery, massages and stretch mark creams would be his favourite job of the day, plus he'd be grabbing the baby bump every chance he gets.

Av ery Obssessive father and husband, always watching SO and their belly. So would never ever have a chance againf to be alone. NEVER.

He would be the kind of parent who would interrupt half a chase to go out of his way, buy his SO's craving, and ask one of his children to relieve him so that he could go and give his SO his craving of the moment. No matter how weird it is.

He would cry more than his SO when it's time to buy clothes or look at toys. All Superman and Green Lantern themed, but his SO seemed happy with those cute little pyjamas and stuffed animals with that theme. Sure, he snuck a Batman pillow or two in there, but he wouldn't go against his partner's wishes.

He gets excited at every ultrasound, and his social media accounts would be filled with every new ultrasound during those 9 months. He would even build a new maternity ward and donate millions to underprivileged mothers and children, just because his SO (who by then has Stockholm Syndrome) wanted other mothers to have a safe and secure motherhood.

He wants to make sure he has all the experiences he could never have with his other children, the baby showers, the gender reveal, the name discussions, the nursery decorations, the laundry sorting.

It's something his SO gave him, something he never thought he could experience. Is what he's doing not enough? For him yes, it is little and he would give more if he didn't know that his SO is now tired from the weight of the baby and the hormones are making her uncomfortable.

Now, the baby is born, would Bruce act differently?

Partly yes, a baby is really hard work, and he doesn't want his SO to feel burdened or abandoned with the baby's upbringing. No.

Bruce would spend as much time as he can and make time in his schedule to make parenting a 50/50 split if possible.

His other children understand that, they really do. Dick occasionally jokes that this baby could be his son and doesn't refuse to babysit or replace his father as batman if he sees that he and his stepmother are exhausted.

Jason would manage to keep things in the crime world pretty quiet and calm, just because he knows how fucked up it is to have to balance his adult life and taking care of his new baby brother. How will he take the baby out on his pram ride when the whole city is destroyed?

Tim wouldn't hesitate to do some stock market shopping to secure an emergency mattress for his new baby. That, and he's created a detailed list of the best preschools and has a background check on every single person with a teaching degree in the city. Only the best of the best for your new baby brother.

And Damian, Damian loves being a big brother, when the baby was born he wouldn't stop thanking the SO for giving him the best gift in the universe, he would sing cute and cuddly songs in Arabic to calm the baby and take him to play with his pets so he could feel at one with nature. Always like an alcon watching over and protecting.

They do not feel any kinf of jealousy or anything similar. Of course Damian would be a bit upset because he cannot sleepclose tou you or Bruce, but, he and his older brothers understnd that a baby needs more attention and care. They also loves the baby alot!!!

And Bruce? I can feel him relaxing a bit, I mean, he's already tied his SO to his and his family's side for good. Now, that he might secretly break his own moral code, to ensure the safety of you and his growing family…those are details no one should know.