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fuckyeahdindjarin · 11 months

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III ║ Edgestitch

Joel Miller x F!Reader

{ Part II: Threads | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: M

Summary: You wear those jeans for Joel when you see him again at the baby shower at Tommy and Maria's - like he asked you to.

Warnings: Spicy thoughts but not explicit, sexual tension, sexual innuendos, flirting, mention of food and drink, some language, shy!reader, reader has a nickname related to her job, soft!Joel, no use of Y/N

Word count: 7k

Notes: It's here! This one was a long and winding road as I mentioned in Behind the Seams, I'm so relieved and excited when it all finally clicked and fell into place! I'm absolutely blown away by the love you guys have shown Joel and Pin so far, thank you, there's no greater motivation for a writer ❤️ I hope you guys enjoy the chapter!

‘Damnit, Lucy,’ you mutter under your breath, this close to stamping your foot and pouting at the door that refuses to lock up.

Lucy may be your best friend, but you’re not blind to the fact that she literally cannot be trusted to get anything done around the shop. It’s been two weeks since she promised to get the locksmith to come in, but here you are on Friday evening, wrestling with the key that refuses to turn the last quarter of an inch in the faulty lock.

‘Hey, Pin!’

Glancing over your shoulder, you force a wane smile at Tommy, who has his hands full with a cardboard box at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Need some help?’

‘Yes, please,’ you reply sheepishly.

You nod at the bottles of wine that clink delicately against one another as he sets them down. ‘Getting ready for the party on Sunday?’

Tommy steps up to the door and wriggles the key left and right experimentally. ‘Yeah, you comin’, right?’

‘Yes, with Lucy.’

‘Good, the more the merrier!’ He makes a face at the door lock, which is not cooperating with him either. ‘You should get someone to look at it. Probably time for a new one.’

‘Lucy was supposed to get Andrew to fix it, but you know Luce.’

Tommy yanks the door knob backwards hard as he twists the key. There’s a grunt of metal, and a triumphant aha! when it finally turns, the internal mechanisms of the lock sliding into place with a satisfying click.

You nearly fall onto your knees in relief. ‘Thank you so much, Tommy. You’re a lifesaver.’

He grins and deposits the key in your waiting palm. ‘You can ask Joel for help, you know. He’s handy with this kind of stuff.’

You blink, blindsided by the seemingly random mention of his brother - but his dimpled smile tells you otherwise.

His brother, who was so solid and broad under you on the studio floor, just a few days ago. His brother, who you can still feel pressed between your thighs, in your bed in the dead of night. His brother, who has taken up residence in your mind, waking or otherwise, since he sauntered out of your shop with that infuriatingly attractive confidence when he asked you to to wear those jeans for him again on Sunday.

Joel has existed solely and safely in the parameters of your workspace for the past fortnight and a half, with only Lucy bearing witness to whatever it is between the two of you. Having to suddenly deal with any mention of him outside of it, especially with that knowing arch of Tommy’s eyebrow, has you completely flustered. It doesn’t help that his eyes are uncannily like Joel’s, a gorgeous deep brown, expressive and sharp, though the mischief sits a lot closer to the surface in the former’s.

Mercifully, your brain unscrambles long enough for you to reach the conclusion that of course, Joel must have told Tommy that he invited you and Lucy. It’s their party, after all. Surely, he doesn’t know anything else -

Or does he?

You’ve been quiet for too long to say anything about it now, so you clumsily change the subject, stumbling over your words. ‘I, uh - I was just wondering what I could bring on Sunday?’

Tommy graciously lets you off the hook. ‘We’re a bit short on sweets, actually, if you bake.’

You latch on to that gratefully. ‘I do - what kind of cake were you thinking?’

‘Do you make a carrot cake?’

You perk up. ‘It’s my favourite!’

He flashes you a cheeky grin. ‘What a funny coincidence, it’s Joel’s as well - the only way to get carrots in him.’

Your pulse spikes with adrenaline at the unexpected tidbit Tommy drops in your lap, and you greedily squirrel that little fact away, slowly colouring in the Joel-shaped space in your head.

With a wink, Tommy bends down to pick up the wine. ‘See you in a couple of days, Pin!’

At least you have the decency to wait until he turns the corner - once he does, you sprint across the road to the Jackson Grocer’s and clear out their stock of carrots for the day.

There are many things about Jackson that throw Joel.

The plentitude after years of rations. The safety, which comes off more jarring than comforting.

But most of all, it’s the sounds. The kettle on the boil and the pop of the toaster in the morning when Ellie gets ready for school. Friendly chatter on the high street. Laughter. It still makes him jump when he hears playful shrieks in the neighbourhood playground, blood rushing in his ears and sending him halfway across the house for his rifle before he remembers where he is.

Where he is not.

It was always loud in the QZ. Loudspeakers blaring, alarms wailing, the indistinct hum of conversation and radio through paper thin walls in the slums at all hours of the day. And he was always listening - for danger, for trouble, and everything in between.

And then all that noise had blown up, literally, with the State House. With Tess.

Joel finds it hard to remember those first few days after leaving Boston behind. Mostly the raw cuts on his knuckles that wouldn’t heal and the ring in his right ear from the explosion, lingering like a pesky fly.

But he knows it was Ellie who broke that silence first. And once that door was kicked down -

‘Fuck no, dude!’

His face snaps up and he scowls across the lawn, the stern reprimand rolling off his tongue like second nature. ‘Ellie!’

She’s sitting with her friends, crowded around her most prized possession of the moment, a boombox she found in the thrift shop a couple of months ago and begged him to buy and fix up for her.

Not that she needed to do much begging, he caved far too easily. It plays a bit wonky - the bass too heavy - still, it does the trick.

The teenagers around her cower immediately, but she defiantly stands her ground. ‘What?’

‘Watch your language,’ he barks, no real bite behind it.

She rolls her eyes so hard her head falls back, and he has to press his lips together to not smile.

It helps him sleep better at night seeing Ellie fit right in - at least one of them has. She doesn’t hate going to school half as much as she pretends to, the routine of homework and chores anchoring her to small town life. She’s even volunteered to help out at the farm, spending most afternoons in the stables with the horses.

There are times when he wonders to which extent all this is a coping mechanism. But well, at least she’s coping.

And while Joel still hasn’t made up his mind about Jackson, its townsfolk seem to have unilaterally made theirs up about him. The wary whispers and watchful stares have given way to cautious gestures of acknowledgement, some even bold enough to throw a good morning in his general direction as he walks down the street.

They nod at him now as they file into the garden party, still keeping their distance, but not as much as he would’ve liked.

The expectant parents have gone all out for the occasion. Several tables are lined up end to end in the middle of the garden, filling up with potluck dishes as guests arrive. Tommy lords over the barbeque, the brisket having been smoking since dawn, with chicken, bacon and homemade sausages sizzling on the grill. Maria is in her element, flitting from well wisher to well wisher with a protective hand over her rounded belly, making sure everyone has a drink and a loaded plate in hand.

Joel hovers in no man’s land, dodging the crowds and sipping on beer that has long gone flat, trying to remember the last time he celebrated anything.

Well, he supposes dinner parties at Bill and Frank’s count, as far and few in between as they were. Not that they ever celebrated anything specific, per se - they didn’t need a reason beyond the fact that they were all still alive and kicking. Bill, bless his soul, did make a mean roast, and Frank used to host with enough flair for forty instead of four. Tess had a black dress she stowed away at the back of her closet for these parties, and a red one that she saved for the really special occasions -

A strong hand on his back jolts him forward and out of his thoughts, spilling lukewarm beer over his fingers.

‘Havin’ a good time, brother?’ asks Tommy jovially, cheeks stretched with joy.

‘I was just now,’ he grunts pointedly.

Tommy grins. ‘Lighten up, man. Get drunk, be merry! You’re gonna be an uncle.’

‘Don’t try to butter me up. I ain’t babysittin’ for you.’

Thumping his chest in mock hurt, he asks, ‘What about all those times I babysat Sarah, man?’

Joel gives him a long-suffering side stare. ‘Please. You used to hire that college chick ‘cross the street to babysit whenever you were supposed to. Then you’d hit on her all night long.’

Tommy chuckles. ‘Damn, your mind’s in better shape than I give you credit for, old man.’

He can’t help a smile. ‘But for all your devious plans to get into her babysitter’s pants, Sarah did love her Uncle Tommy.’

He goes quiet for a beat and takes a sip of his beer, his eyes softening. ‘I think about that girl every single day, y’know.’

Joel nods, staring into his own beer, and it suddenly strikes him that he’s missed the shape of her name on his lips. ‘I know.’

Tommy nudges him on the shoulder. ‘I can only hope my kid will love their Uncle Joel just as much.’

Eventually, he harrumphs, ‘If they do - I’ll think about the babysittin’.’

Tommy chortles just as the backdoor to the porch swings open with a loud creak.

Joel spots you easily, trailing one step behind Lucy. You’re holding onto a cake on a round wooden board like a security blanket, shoulders tense and eyes wide at the noise of the festivities. Spotting Maria, Lucy bounds down the stairs, leaving you hesitating at the landing, and -

You’re wearing the jeans he asked you to.

Something primal swells in the cavity of his chest, between his ribs - a pride that is distinctly male.

Tommy shouts, ‘Pin! Over here!’

Joel shifts on his feet, swallowing thickly as you approach. If your shy smile is anything to go by, he’s not the only one feeling the nerves.

His brother gives you a careful hug around the cake and plants a kiss on your cheek. When he steps aside, Joel hesitates, uneasy with having an audience, his palms suddenly clammy with indecision.

Does he… hug you? He can count on three fingers who he’s hugged for the past twenty years, and he’s sorely out of practice. A kiss is an option, but the way his eyes dart to your mouth, it’s dangerous even entertaining that thought -

Tommy elbows him in the ribs and puts him out of his misery. ‘Why don’t you kids catch up, I think the brisket’s burnin’. Have fun tonight!’

Joel can feel the tip of his ears turning red as he stands there with his drink, one hand shoved in his back pocket, not knowing how to do this. How to entertain. Clearing his throat, he stammers, ‘Uh - can I get you a drink or somethin’?’

You give him a small smile, lips moving in an answer too quiet to reach him over the music. Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, he admits, ‘Sorry, I can’t hear you. I’m uh - a bit deaf in my right ear.’

You look apologetic, speaking up, ‘I’m sorry - I didn’t know.’

With a shrug, he jokes, ‘It’s ok, I’m a bit broken all over.’

You pinch your lips, and he recoginses that face - he knows that you want to disagree with him. But you hold your tongue, skirting around him to his good ear, and he stoops to close the distance, even though he doesn’t need to.

Your breath brushes his ear. ‘I’d love a drink, but I want to put this cake away first.’

‘Yes, of course - sorry, don’t know where my manners went.’ He puts his unfinished beer away and takes the cake from you despite your protests. The potluck table is packed to the brim, so he gestures towards the house. ‘It might have to go into the kitchen for now.’

You follow him, side by side with one polite body width between you, past bands of neighbours and friends catching up, the fairy lights catching your eyes and the well-kept lawn crunching beneath your soles. Unsurprisingly, you feel the weight of curious stares on your back as you go - Joel is still very much a novelty around town. Neither of you speak until he holds open the backdoor for you to slip inside.

It’s quiet in the kitchen, the muted conversation outside a low hum through the double-glazed windows. The free-standing island is already chock full of all kinds of baked goods and pudding, and Joel has to move an actual jelly castle (which wriggles precariously) to free up space for your contribution.

Dusting his hands, Joel turns to you. ‘That carrot cake?’

You nod, keeping mum.

‘It’s my favourite.’

‘I know - Tommy told me,’ you confess with a bashful half-shrug.

His warm eyes crinkle at the corners. ‘Talkin’ about me behind my back, sweetheart?’

Your breath quickens at the sweetheart, and you wonder if the thrill of the nickname will ever wear thin. Emboldened, you tilt your head to one side and tease, ‘Why? You like the attention?’

A smirk on his lips, he steps into your space, the very proximity of him stealing the air from your lungs. ‘I might if you’re not careful.’

And there you are again - with nothing more than a dozen words exchanged and even more unsaid - on the brink of something, right where you left off on the workshop floor.

‘Wanna grab a bite to eat?’

Tucked away in an intimate corner of the back porch in a wicker chair, Joel surveys the party with a seriousness that is borderline comical.

The strategist in him clearly favours the higher ground the porch affords him so he can keep an eye on everyone and spot whoever approaches from a distance. His seat is an easy three steps to the door, an escape plan in his back pocket. For all his stillness, the intensity is unmistakable, if slightly out of place in a baby shower.

Two dirty plates licked clean are stacked on the coffee table between you, piled high with bones and leftover gravy, the delicious food sitting warm in your stomach.

‘They’re comin’ closer,’ Joel complains, taking a long gulp of his beer.

‘I guess they figure if I’m talking to you, it means that you don’t actually bite,’ you quip.

‘Will they back off if I make you cry?’

Your shoulders quake with a chuckle. ‘I think you’re too much of a gentleman to do that, Joel Miller.’

You’re taken aback by the flash of heat in his answering glance, as if there’s something he wants to say. But then, he changes his mind and leans back in his chair, one palm resting on his spread thighs, and he nods towards a couple standing close to the barbeque.

‘Who’s that over there? He lives on my street.’

‘That’s Andrew. He owns the only hot tub in Jackson.’

Joel splutters, ‘A hot tub?’

‘To be fair, it came with his house, but he managed to connect it to the water a few months ago.’

He snorts. ‘Not very communist of him to divert public resources for a private hot tub.’

‘Let’s just say Jackson is a commune with American characteristics,’ you say diplomatically.

He arches an eyebrow at you. ‘A cynic, sweetheart?’

You reply matter-of-factly, ‘We all know how communism ended.’

Fuck. He takes a swig of his beer and swallows hard. A woman after his own heart.

‘You want to keep him on your good side though. He’s really handy with electrics and the like.’

He shrugs. ‘So am I.’

You turn to him, surprised. ‘Oh?’

‘I was a contractor in another life.’

He notices your attention flicker to his hands, before you catch yourself and look away bashfully. ‘That’s good to know.’

‘You need things fixed?’ he asks, and promptly wants to kick himself for sounding so hopeful to be of service.

‘Here and there,’ you say with a dismissive wave. ‘It’s not important. It’ll hold up.’

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip thoughtfully. You have to work on asking for things, but it’s ok - he doesn’t push you. He files that away for later.

Glancing across the yard, he catches Ellie’s eye, who’s arching an inquisitive eyebrow and pointing straight at you with all the subtlety of a flying brick. He knows he should probably introduce you at some point, but he’s not ready to share your attention with someone else just yet, let alone the nosy teenage loudmouth.

Joel gives her a firm shake of the head, to which she responds with a disgruntled I’m watching you gesture.

Ignoring her for now - and knowing that he’ll pay for it later - he asks you, ‘And who’s that in the red dress?’

You crane your neck until you spot her. ‘Ah, that’s Patricia. She’s the dance teacher down at the school.’

‘Why’s she starin’ at me?’ he mutters.

You shoot him an amused grin. ‘Why, it looks like you’ve caught the fancy of our local femme fatale.’

He scoffs. ‘Should I be worried?’

‘Well, she’s been married and divorced three times since she arrived,’ you answer with a straight face. ‘The last one just disappeared. Never found his body.’

Joel stares at you in stunned silence, until you let out a poorly contained giggle. He grumbles, ‘Havin’ fun pullin’ my leg, sweetheart?’

‘Just a bit,’ you tease.

‘I liked you better when you were shy,’ he ribs.

You shrug. ‘Too late. You don’t scare me anymore.’

Glancing the other way, Joel sits up in alarm at the flutter of crimson fabric. ‘Shit, I think she’s comin’ this way.’

‘Time for carrot cake?’ you prompt.

He’s out of his chair quicker than you’d expect his knees would allow him to. ‘Let’s go, sweetheart.’

The state of the kitchen island stops you in your tracks, while Joel lets out a low whistle behind you. ‘Jackson really turned out for this party, huh?’

‘Well, your brother and sister-in-law are pretty popular around town,’ you quip.

You didn’t think it was possible, but every square inch of the kitchen island is now jam-packed with sugary confections, stacked on top of one another.

‘I can’t even find the bloody cake,’ you laugh, literally searching high and low as you skirt the parameter.

On the other side of the island, Joel tosses a dry good luck in your direction and puts the dirty plates and cutlery that he brought in into the sink with a clatter, turning on the hot water. You stutter to a stop opposite him, gawking at how his broad shoulders fill the frame of the window that sits in front of the sink, before your gaze inadvertently trails south - over the nip of his waist and the hem of his shirt skirting the back pockets of his jeans. You find yourself wishing he’d tucked the tails in.

Rooted to the spot, you watch him unbutton the cuffs on his flannel shirt and push up the sleeves to the crease of his elbows, baring his strong forearms. Your mouth goes dry despite the wine you’ve been sipping on all evening, peering at the sinewy muscles flexing and straining as he lathers the plates with an offhand familiarity, his thick fingers dwarfing the sponge in as he works the grease stains.

Making quick but thorough work of the washing up, Joel dries the plates and then runs the tea towel over his big hands and wrists, catching you staring as he turns around. If he knows you’ve been watching all along, he lets it slide. Tossing the towel to one side, heat prickles under your cheeks when he sidles up to you with the clean plates.

The sight of this man doing something as mundane as dishes really shouldn’t get you this hot and bothered.

‘Is that cream cheese?’ he asks conversationally with a nod at your cake, which you have found sitting on top of a tall plastic caddy, a chocolate cake inside.

Having to consciously unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth, you’re surprised your voice doesn’t shake. ‘It’s not carrot cake without it.’

‘Where did you get the cream cheese? Never seen any ‘round town.’

Almost bashful, you admit, ‘I made it.’

His eyebrows shoot up. ‘You made cream cheese? How?’

‘It’s not that big a deal. It’s just milk, lemon and salt,’ you say, trying to downplay it. Your arms are definitely not aching from the hours of straining and beating and whipping.

‘And the walnuts?’ he asks.

‘Someone I know grows it,’ you say vaguely.

Joel hums doubtfully. ‘Ain’t seen any walnut trees in town.’

Biting your bottom lip, you can pinpoint the exact moment he figures it out, brows drawing together in a frown. ‘The only ones I’ve seen are outside the walls, ‘round the north side of the gates.’

Knowing for a fact that you’re a terrible liar, you don’t even try. You choose to ignore him, idly smoothing the frosting on top with a clean knife, trying not to flinch at the weight of his gaze on you.

‘Sweetheart, please tell me you didn’t go outside just to get walnuts for me.’

‘Not for you,’ you shoot back unconvincingly, flustered. ‘I made the cake for Tommy and Maria.’

Lies. You know it. He knows it.

His shoulders stiffen, the fabric of his shirt bunching with the movement. ‘You can’t just go outside like that, y’know, there could be infected ‘round -’

‘Joel, I’ve been living here for years, I know what I’m doing,’ you argue huffily, not expecting a lecture, of all things. ‘I’m not stupid.’

He shakes his head. ‘Ain’t what I’m sayin’, Pin -’

‘Just leave it, ok?’ you reply sharply and, signalling an end to the conversation, you slice into the cake with an aggressive stab - not noticing that it is hanging over the edge of the caddy below.

You squeak when it flips unceremoniously, and on pure impulse, you pitch forward to stop its upward trajectory, meeting it mid-air with an ominous splat.

‘Fuck!’

To his credit, Joel barely skips a beat, quickly but calmly grabbing hold of the cake board and pulling it off you, setting it down on the counter, while you gape in dismay at the damage done.

The side of the cake that made contact with you is smushed in, most of the thick frosting now painted all over your front, from your neck down to the lovely, thin cashmere top that Lucy picked out for you for the party.

You really hope there’s a big guy up there watching, because someone might as well enjoy this mortifying brand of comedy you keep dishing out around this man.

Two seconds more, and you’re pretty sure you would’ve burst into tears for lack of knowing what else to do - but without another word, Joel takes the lead, wrapping a firm hand around your wrist and pulling you out of the kitchen.

You gratefully let him.

It’s none of your business really, but it comforts you that Joel’s obviously here often enough to know his way around the house.

You glance around the dimly lit room where he deposited you on the edge of a neatly made bed, water trickling in the adjoining ensuite. When he returns, he has a small, wet towel in his hands. Towering over you, the low lights don’t quite reach his face, but you can see the way his gaze slips downwards, carefully, as if he’s afraid to startle you.

But he doesn’t - not even when he slides the crook of his fingers under your chin, tilting your face up and opening up your throat.

His lips twitch wryly. ‘What a waste of perfectly good cream cheese.’

Despite yourself, a laugh escapes you at the absurdity of the situation. ‘Must something always go wrong whenever we’re in the same room?’

The corner of his mouth teases a smile. ‘Never a dull moment with you, sweetheart.’

You smile back, but it falters when his eyes burn in a quiet but unmistakable smoulder.

‘May I?’

You’re not even sure what he’s asking. But he can ask you anything in that raspy, low baritone, and there will always only be one answer.

At your nod, Joel drags the tip of his index finger down the column of your neck, and your lips part when it glides over your windpipe - pressing just hard enough for you to feel the pressure - collecting the velvety frosting as it goes.

Then, holding your eyes, he sucks the cream cheese off his fingertip, a hum deep in his throat. ‘Delicious, sweetheart.’

You’re sitting down, but somehow, you still feel your knees give way at how he smacks his lips at the sugary aftertaste.

He looms closer, bending at the waist and for one moment of madness, you think he might lean down and lick your neck clean.

At the prospect of those plush lips and the burn of his silvered, patchy beard on your skin, your head tilts further back invitingly. His pupils dilate and his nostrils flare, like he’s picking up on what you’re thinking, and his eyes dip to your mouth.

But he doesn’t.

You don’t even have time to be disappointed before Joel carefully gets down on one knee in front of you, one palm landing on the mattress next to your hip for balance. Knowing the state of his joints, you want to ask if he needs a pillow, but instead of your mouth, it’s your thighs that part to make room for him. His chest keeps them splayed open, and you can feel the steady rise and fall of his ribcage with each breath through the denim.

You try to focus on your own breathing as Joel presses the wet towel to your skin and mops up the sticky mess, his face set seriously as he cleans you up inch by inch. But all you can think about is how you can feel the imprint of his fingers through the thin fabric, and how the span of his hand can easily fit over the column of your throat -

You don’t realise you’re leaning into him until he draws back when he’s done, and you tip forward, chasing his touch. His knee groans as he stands up to his full height, and he nods towards the bathroom with a wait here in his eyes.

The water is scalding as Joel washes out the frosting from the towel, but he keeps his hands under the tap, longer than he needs to. Wringing it dry, he takes a moment, wet palms gripping the cold porcelain edge of the bathroom sink, shoulders hunched over as he tells himself to calm the fuck down.

Except, he is calm. He’s held back, even when you looked at him with such straightforward, honest want that has him grinding his teeth.

Thing is, he knows you would’ve let him nudge you backwards into the mattress and crowd you between his arms, switching places the two of you were in under your sewing desk in the workshop.

He knows you would’ve let him wrap your legs around his hips, sliding his palms up the back of your thighs in those skin tight jeans - the sight of which is enough to make his head spin - and he knows you would’ve let him nip, suck, lick the tangy buttercream off your very neck.

Not only would you have let him - you would’ve trusted him to do all those things to you.

That last realisation awakens something he’s not so sure he has a handle on. But he knows for a fact that with the whole of Jackson milling about downstairs, in the middle of his brother’s baby shower, is neither the place nor the time.

You’re where he left you when he steps back into the bedroom, your palms planted on the bed, your shoulders relaxed. The neckline of your blouse gapes loosely, teasing the soft skin of your cleavage.

Joel breaks the loaded silence with a bit of common sense. ‘You best get that top off and soak it in the bath before the stains really set in, sweetheart.’

You bite your lip hesitantly. ‘I - I don’t have anything to change into.’

‘You can have my shirt,’ he offers.

You sit up, attention piqued, when his hands move to the top of his flannel, thick fingers sliding each button out of the holes one by one. You know he’s just taking off his shirt, but you can’t help the way your jaw goes slack, watching shamelessly, the comforter twisting in your grip as you scrabble for something to hold onto.

Joel doesn’t understand why you’re looking at him like that, but it’s so flattering to watch you watch him, eyes hooded and your tongue darting out to wet your bottom lip, like he’s giving you a fucking strip tease or something.

Goddamn if it doesn’t go straight to his head.

A white undervest comes into view, inch by inch, as the shirt falls open, the thin fabric pulled taut at the seams over the broad stretch of his chest. When the last button is undone, he shrugs the shirt off with a smooth roll of his arms, and your jaw drops.

The undervest barely contains the bulk of him, and you’ll be damned if you know where to look first - the lean, solid line of his arms, or the effortless ripple of muscle in his shoulders - but it’s lower where your attention makes landing, and it takes you a second to realise why.

He’s not sucking in his tummy.

The swell of his abdomen sits above the top of his jeans, where the vest is neatly tucked in. You remember too well the brush of that soft strip of skin against the back of your hands when you were on your knees, cutting him out of his jeans; and then beneath you, straddling him under the sewing table.

While there’s an undercurrent of self-consciousness in the way he holds himself, conspicuously missing is the self-deprecation that drew your ire the day he walked into your shop with a broken zipper. A tentative confidence has taken its place, which is at the same time so endearingly vulnerable, as if your reaction to the little show he gave you just now isn’t enough to assure him of what you’re thinking.

Your fingers twitch, yearning to reach out and tug him in by the front of his jeans, to untuck that vest and push it up and off. You want to snake your hands around his waist, hold him to you by the small of his back, and starting with his tummy, kiss your way across the soft belly - maybe with a cheeky scrape of teeth - up to his firm chest, his strong neck and to his lips.

Or maybe, the calling southwards will win out. You’ll push him back to make room for yourself at his feet, nudging your way down his front with your nose, breathe him in, your hands finding his belt buckle and tugging it out of the loops instead. Never mind you've lost count of how many years it's been since you've wanted to do that, or if you remember how at all -

‘Pin.’

Your whole body jolts backwards when his voice pierces through your addled haze, low and raspy, snapping out of your sordid stupor almost grumpily - how rude of him to interrupt? - only to find him peering down at you with a lopsided smile.

‘Get changed, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.’

Leaving your top to soak in the sink, you pad back into the bedroom in just your bra, and you stare down at his shirt laid out neatly on top of the bed.

You press your palm over where his heart would be, the flannel still warm. For one indulgent moment, you pick up the shirt and hug it to you. It smells like him - the outdoors, a crisp spring day, with a whiff of the barbeque smoke from downstairs. You bury your nose into the soft fabric, eyes closed, imagining the weight and shape of him in it.

Even as you put your arms through the sleeves to button it up, you already know it will be hard giving it back. You leave the last three buttons undone and you’ve just tied up the too-long ends in a double knot when there’s a polite but firm knock on the door.

‘You decent?’

‘Yes.’

You hope your face doesn’t fall too obviously at the sight of Joel wearing a shirt again, probably one borrowed from Tommy. He leaves it unbuttoned though, which is small consolation. The air hums between you with stolen glances and words unsaid.

‘You wore those jeans for me,’ he says suddenly.

The for me rolls off his tongue coated in his delectable Southern drawl and a heady satisfaction.

You decide to be brave and shrug one shoulder in a show of attitude. ‘It was the only thing I didn’t have in the wash.’

His grin makes your heart swell. Stepping out of the open doorway, his eyes trailing heat where they linger over you, he says, ‘You look good in my shirt, sweetheart. Real good.’

You bite your lower lip at the compliment, replying shyly, ‘I like this look on you too.’

‘Used to be Tommy’s uniform during our contractor days,’ he reminiscences. ‘I’m just missing the utility belt.’

Oh. You actually find it offensive that the fleeting mention of something as banal as a utility belt should get you going like this. You try to palm off a non-committal hum, but your body betrays you with a strangled choking sound that gives you away.

Joel arches an eyebrow and closes the gap between you with three long, deliberate steps, one finger skimming where his shirt meets the waistband of your jeans. He teases with a smirk, ‘What’s that, sweetheart? This contractor look doin’ somethin’ for you?’

Your cheeks grow hot as both his palms latch boldly onto your hips, and you swear you can feel the burn of his fingertips through the denim, a moan gargling in your throat as your ability to form words abandons you.

‘That a yes?’ he prompts, hooking his thumbs through the belt loops in your jeans and tugging your body flush against his, his stubbled chin brushing the sensitive crook of your neck as he speaks into your ear.

‘Joel,’ you whine, which is the best you can do right now, grabbing onto the open flaps of his shirt just to stay upright.

You feel the rumble that goes through his chest under your palms when he purrs, smiling down at you, head cocked to one side with a playful condescension that’s going to be the end of you. ‘Yes, Pin?’

Your mouth opens, but you’ll never get to find out what you intended to say, because you hear it first - his right ear is to the door - the thunder of rubber soles on the stairs, and you're lucky you manage to stumble two steps back before a deafening (no pun intended), drawn-out call of his name follows.

‘JOOOOOOELLLL!’

Ellie crashes into the doorway with all the grace of a bull in a china shop, slightly out of breath like she’s been running all over the place searching for him, already in the middle of a sentence, as usual.

‘- also Maria says they’re doing a speech now and you’re not getting out of -’ she breaks off abruptly when she spots you, eyes wide and brows - all one and a half of them - reaching for her hairline. ‘Oh shiiiiiit.’

Running a tired hand down his face, Joel’s sigh sounds a lot like surrender. ‘Ellie, this is Pin. Pin, I’m sorry.’

You bite your lip to hold back a laugh at the resignation in his tone as the teenager wrinkles her nose. ‘Pin? That’s a weird name.’

‘Ellie!’

You smile. ‘It’s ok. Pin's just my nickname. I’m a seamstress at the Main Street Outfitters.’

Her face lights up excitedly, an open book if you’ve ever seen one. ‘No shit! I’ve been bugging Joel for a leather jacket for ages. Can I get one?’

‘Please,’ he interjects.

Ellie tucks in her chin and juts out her bottom lip at you. ‘Please?’

You demur. ‘Well, it depends on what you can trade in for it.’

‘My boombox!’ she volunteers without skipping a beat.

Joel scoffs. ‘Good to know those three weeks fixing that piece of junk for you was time well spent.'

‘Sorry, man, but I can’t wear a boombox can I?’ she argues.

Giving Joel an amused look, you come to his rescue. ‘I’m sorry, Ellie, but we only take clothes in exchange.’ At the way she deflates, you counteroffer, ‘Or, you can come work at the shop on Saturdays for the next couple of months. Lucy always needs help out front, and you get a staff discount.’

He turns to you, protesting, ‘That’s very kind, but it ain’t necessary -’

Ellie cuts in, rushing up to you to shake your hand before you can take it back. ‘Deal! When can I start?’

‘There’s no rush,’ you reply with a chuckle. ‘I’ll get back to you next week.’

Stepping back, Ellie winks, ‘So - let’s put a pin in it for now?’

Joel groans at the terrible pun. ‘Get outta here!’

She cackles, firing triumphant finger guns at you as she retreats. ‘What? Pin liked it, she laughed! You’re no fun old man!’

She then pauses by the door, her eyes narrowing as she zeroes in on something smeared on your jeans. ‘Wait - what’s that white stuff on your leg?’

‘It’s cream cheese, you little shit!’ Joel snaps as your ears burn in embarrassment. ‘Out!’

She scampers out of sight, but then reverses into view, sneakers squeaking. ‘ - Are you wearing Joel’s shirt?’

‘ELLIE!’

She throws her hands up. ‘Alright, I’m gone, I’m gone! See ya Pin!’

Joel is the very picture of an embarrassed dad, rubbing the back of his neck with a wince. ‘Sorry, she’s a handful.’

You grin, ‘She’s just a teenager.’

‘You can say that again.’

The quiet seems louder after Ellie, and you restlessly pick at the sleeves. Lifting your eyes shyly, it seems the moment has passed - but Joel has other ideas.

‘C’mere,’ he hums, drawing you close again with one hand on your waist, peering down at you through his lashes. ‘This ok?’

At your nod, he brushes his thumb on your bottom lip, catching the soft plump skin, and your tongue darts out to taste him, his eyes darkening.

‘Can I kiss you, sweetheart?’ he asks, voice hoarse.

It’s been years. Years since anyone has cared enough to kiss you, let alone cared enough to ask if they could. And it’s as if he knows - you don’t know if you’ve somehow given it away, or maybe it’s just him.

‘Yes, Joel.’

He coaxes you closer so that you’re pressed along the whole length of him. His big palms are warm and solid on the small of your back, holding you to him like he intends for you to have trouble standing after he’s done with you.

The tip of his nose bumps into your cheek, nudging its way across and down, and your eyes slide shut when his shaky exhale grazes your gently parted mouth. Your breath hitches at the sweet burn of his beard on your jaw, fingers grabbing onto the scruff of his neck when he finally, finally brushes his lips against yours.

For a man as hardened as Joel Miller, he sure kisses soft. He steals a whimper straight from your throat with nothing more than the clever angling of his lips, the slow drag of tongue on tongue, and a growl deep in his windpipe that you answer with your own moan.

You don’t even have the presence of mind to be embarrassed when your shins knock into his, breaking the kiss with a laugh as Joel hauls you up into his chest, looking very much pleased that he’s literally made your knees buckle.

‘Sorry,’ you squeak, beaming despite yourself.

‘You really know how to flatter a guy, sweetheart,’ he answers, his voice warming you like a smokey campfire, steadying by his hands on your hips.

‘We should probably go before Ellie comes back for us,’ you say reluctantly.

Joel huffs, ‘Ain’t gonna hear the end of it if she does.’

‘Something tells me you won’t be hearing the end of it tonight anyway,’ you tease.

He chucks you gently under the chin, his eyes soft. ‘Let’s go, sweetheart.’

‘You’ve made yourself scarce,’ remarks Lucy as she ambles up to you with a glass of wine running low. ‘Where you been, hon?’

‘Had some trouble with the cake,’ you answer vaguely.

‘Sure,’ she winks at you, unconvinced. ‘If we’re calling him that.’

Right on cue, Joel strides across the lawn with three plates to join you. ‘Thought you might want some of Pin’s carrot cake.’

‘Such a gentleman, Joel Miller,’ chirps Lucy, making what can only be described as a 'thirst face' at you when his back is turned to her.

‘Thanks, Joel,’ you smile at him, letting your fingers graze his deliberately when you take the plate from him.

Saluting you with a forkful of cake, he says, ‘Thank you for bakin’, sweetheart.’

You watch as his lips close around the fork, dragging the cake clean off the slots, cream cheese smearing the corner of his mouth. He frowns, as if in deep pain as he chews, Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows.

‘Okay?’ you ask nervously, your slice still untouched.

‘Perfect,’ he declares, already having a second, bigger bite. Knowing he doesn’t have a superfluous bone in his body, your chest warms at his words.

‘Wait a second,’ Lucy interrupts, bringing up her plate to inspect it closely. ‘Why does the cake look all wonky?’

‘Don’t know what you’re talking about, Luce,’ you answer coolly, taking a bite yourself.

Humming around a mouthful of moist crumb, the sweet carrot balanced out by the tangy frosting, you meet Joel’s eyes in the soft glow of fairy lights, and he flashes you a conspiratorial smile that makes you grin.

More notes: On Ellie - I was so so nervous about writing our resident teenage badass. I hope I've done her justice, I certainly had a lot of fun writing her introduction to Pin! If you're interested in a detailed deep dive into my process writing this chapter, I do recommend you read the Behind the Seams for this part ❤️

I also went back and forth on the tone and style of this chapter a lot. I wasn’t happy with the way it read, probably still not 100% happy. I like the way Seams and Threads were written better, but the fact is that this chapter is a very different setting and narrative compared to the first two, so I’m trying to be too hard on myself.

So, I have some ideas for where the story will go from here, but nothing concrete. As I've mentioned, I see this fic as more of a loose-fit series, so there's no overarching plot per se, but there's definitely a lot of room for future episodes of these two - I mean, they haven't even done the deed yet 😉

Comments, asks and reblogs are greatly appreciated as always! Thank you so much for reading, I'm so excited to hear what you guys thought of this chapter 😘

#fuckyeahseams #seams iii #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller imagine #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character fic

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lots-of-pockets · 9 months

Text

Unconventional comfort

Pairings: Natasha x you

Words: 1379

Warnings: This contains nursing. It is not s*xual in any way but it is slightly unconventional hence the warning. If you don’t like it or do not have anything kind to day, please move on. Thank you

Summary: You had accidentally - and thankfully, managed to provide Natasha with a comfort and closeness she'd always been denied.

It wasn't rare for Natasha to have nightmares. Due to her past, they were kind of expected. Every night at around the same time, you'd be abruptly awoken by a muffled cry of fear coming from the spot just next to you. You'd rouse almost instantly, desperate to sooth her but not daring to touch her in fear of how she'd react. Sometimes, she'd manage to bring herself out of it.

She'd wake up only briefly before seeking you out with a soft whimper of both fear and confusion, and you'd pull her into your arms, sooth her back to sleep with a gentle hand grazing over the bare skin of her back.

Other times, you weren't so lucky.

There was one time, just a few short months ago that she'd had one of the worst nightmares that exists to date. It had started with her shifting in place slightly, eyebrows furrowed as she lets out a small whimper.

But then it had progressed into quiet cries that had slowly risen in volume until they could be perceived as literal screams of terror. In the midst of your own fear and panic, you'd instinctively made the mistake of trying to wake her.

It was just a touch. Barely even a graze of your finger against her skin. But it was enough. She'd violently shoved you away from her with that could only be described of cry of unbridled rage. Her hands had reached for your throat, and you were sure they would have reached their destination if it hadn't been for the sleepy disorientation still clouding her hazy, tormented mind.

With a skill you didn't even know you possessed, you had managed to haul her thriving body into your arms. You'd situated yourself against the headboard with her between your legs, both your arms and legs pinning her body to your own. She'd screamed. She'd thrashed and swore and called you every name under the sun. But you hadn't let her go.

Eventually, she'd seemed to realise you wouldn't be letting her go and was quick to slump into a defeated lump in your arms.

You'd adjusted her slightly so she was more or less cradled, her legs curled up against your hip whilst her head had come to rest against your chest. Your own arms had secured her to you, gentle hands brushing the sweat soaked hair out of her face whilst gentle coos of comfort had escaped your lips.

Her hands had risen to take ahold of your shirt, silently clinging, pleading even, not to let her go. She was sniffling quietly, eyes drooping and quietly pleading for sleep. But she refuses to allow it, and you don't dare force her.

As Natasha had laid there, cradled in your arms like she was no more than an infant, she'd reached for your hand and had coaxed it to her face. You had understood her silent implication, tenderly cupping her cheek and grazing the pad of your thumb over the still damp skin.

What happened next had been a complete accident.

Due to being half asleep and rather uncoordinated, your thumb had slipped down slightly and had grazed over her bottom lip as opposed to her cheek. Natasha, seemingly close to sleep as well, had simply reacted upon instinct. Her lips had parted, and she'd accepted the pad of your thumb into her mouth without hesitation before beginning to suckle.

You'd stared down at her in awe, too scared to move and disturb the serene look of complete content that had slipped onto her features. It had felt like seconds and hours all at the same time before the current predicament it had simultaneously clicked for the both of you.

Like she had been set on fire, Natasha had pulled away from your thumb. Her eyes had ripped open, irises full of both embarrassment and humiliation. She'd looked up at you with a look so full of fear it was almost as though she was waiting for you to belittle her.

But you couldn't and wouldn't ever do that.

Before she could even begin to rip herself out of your arms, a strange sense of calm had settled upon you and you'd found yourself gently coaxing her back to your chest. She'd complied warily, and not a word was spoken between the two of you as you had once again trialed the pad of your thumb over her bottom lip.

Her hand had risen to timidly cover your own, and as she'd continue to stare to at you with a look so heartbreakingly full of fear, you'd gently parted her lips and coaxed the pad of your thumb back into her mouth.

Whether it be instinct or something else entirely, she'd begun to suckle almost instantly, her whole body going limp with what could only be described as relief. Her eyes had fluttered closed, and with your free hand, you'd traced gentle circles over the small of her back.

It was on the third nightmare of the week that the dynamic had shifted a little. You'd been undoubtedly exhausted after just getting back from a two day stakeout with Clint and Yelena, so when Natasha has woken with yet another nightmare, you'd simply pulled her into your chest.

She had seemed placated. She'd gone quiet and still, laying there on her side with with her head buried between your breasts. You had just begun to drift of to sleep again when what could only be described as a whine had escaped her lips, and though your body had protested, you had gone to sit up so she could have access to your thumb.

But one simple action had stopped you. Like it was the most natural thing in the world, she'd latched on to the swell of your breast over the material of your shirt. Her suckles were gentle and consistent, the heat of her mouth leaving your shirt slightly damp. You'd stared at her, stunned, and almost entranced at the sight before you.

It had taken only moments for everything to seemingly fall into place.

Natasha would always pay careful to your breasts during intimate moments. She'd almost worship them, in a sense, and she'd said many times that they were one of her favourite things about you. As you watched her mouth move, you'd come to the realisation that letting her suckle would be the same thing but with a slightly different context.

You hadn't allowed yourself to hesitate as you'd pulled off your shirt, shuffling up the bed slightly so that your breast were level with her head. Cupping the flesh, you'd grazed your nipple over her bottom lip, and just like the many tunes before, instinct had her latching on without hesitation.

You felt the hot air of her content exhale before you'd heard it, and with a hand on the back of her head to keep her close, you'd settled back into your pillow, feeling more than seeing her soft suckles against your skin.

It was pleasant feeling, but not in an pleasurable way. More so it was soothing, and before you knew it, you felt yourself falling back to sleep too.

What occurs on those bad nights was never brought up between the two of you. In fact, if it wasn't for the occasional awkward glance sent your way from Natasha, you would have assumed you'd dreamt it.

You didn't necessarily mind, because you knew how hard it was for Natasha to open herself up and allow herself to be seen in such a vulnerable yet intimate way. But a part of you did wish she would at least acknowledge it so you didn't feel so alone.

Thankfully, you knew wasn't because she regrets it or didn't like it. Each gentle tug at your shirt after every bad dream proves that. You just wish she knew it was nothing to be embarrassed about and hoped one day, that would be the case.

I hope you enjoyed 🩵

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x reader #soft natasha romanoff #hurt/comfort #nursing #marvel #fluff #natasha x y/n #unconventional #your name

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rubra-wav · 2 months

Text

Taking care of the main cast while they're sick

Cw: SFW, gn!reader, platonic, very briefly suggestive in Angel's, in the order of who gets sick first - last

<< [ Part 1 ]

Charlie

- She's truly a wet cat when she gets sick.

- Will not stop crying and being emotional the whole time. She hates not being able to sing or go out and about.

- Is even more emotional when you volunteer to take care of her as you're no longer as likely to get sick again.

- She's so happy she's not gonna be all alone.

- She hates being locked away in her room and not being able to participate in group activities.

- Insists they still go on without her like she's about to die from not being able to be there with them.

- Charlie spends the whole time wrapped up in a blanket in bed and watching kids' movies. I hope you like Disney movies, because she won't put on anything else.

- Says they make her 'heart' feel not sickly like she is.

- You will be cuddling her because if not, she won't stop sobbing. Vaggie is keeping her distance from her because she doesn't want to get sick too.

- I hope you're also ready to get your ear talked off by a very passionate dreamer who's been under house lock for a week because oh boy.

- For the last few days, she's gonna be trying to leave her room or convince you to let her leave. She's going antsy and stir-crazy by the end of it.

- She's extremely clingy to you as you're essentially her caretaker for the week she's sick.

- Eventually Vaggie caves in to ger girlfriend, and takes over for you anyways. Then Vaggie catches it. 💀

- Apologetic afterwards to you.

Vaggie

- She's disappointed but not really surprised.

-Probably the best and most composed of all of them when she gets sick.

- She doesn't too much like being seen sick as it makes her feel vulnerable, but when you assure her you don't think any less of her she's a lot less stiff about you being there.

- She will just chill in her room the whole time, probably reading or writing notes to remind her to do stuff when she gets out.

- The whole time she just sighs, sounding extra irritated and absolutely done with life.

- She needs to sit in darkness most of the time because she keeps getting migraines.

- Will absolutely insist she can look after herself and that she doesn't need someone near her at all times like Charlie.

- Will accept you bringing her food, helping with her duties guarding, and bringing her reports about what's gone on around the hotel.

- Really appreciates the reports actually.

- By the end of it she's considering bringing you on to possibly permanently help her out because you absolutely would be helpful.

- Most of her socialisation energy is taken up by Charlie, so she's very likely just gonna wanna be left on her own through most of it.

Niffty

- Despite being told not to, Niffty goes into the room's of those who are sick to clean, and that's how she gets sick.

- An absolute fucking nightmare to look after. It's not just you, it's also Vaggie who needs to keep her at bay.

- She doesn't understand 'rest' and 'quarantine', those do not exist.

- There will have to be a 24/7 watch on her to keep her in her room because my God, she does not sleep and stays just as insane but becomes delirous.

- Will be there barely able to stand and still cleaning.

- You will literally have to pick her up and carry her kicking back to her room.

- The only way to get her to go sleep is to get her a tranquiliser.

- There's a greatly annoying back and forth between Alastor, you and Vaggie as Alastor has the tranquilliser she usually has but just refuses.

- Thank christ when Angel just goes 'fuck this' and gets another type like it to knock her out.

- After that it's better. Niffty becomes extremely clingy to you or Vaggie while she's sedated. Vaggie walks out after the solution is found, leaving you to take care of her on your own.

- So you just cuddle her while doing whatever you have brought to do in her room.

- Afterwards she's probably gonna be clinging to you extra. She's imprinted on you during this period low-key

- It's exhausting, and you don't succeed in stopping her from spreading germs (which is ironic considering she's supposedly the clean one)

- Pentious, Husk and Angel all get sick in quick succession after Niffty.

Pentious

- His 1800's ass is gonna be so dramatic.

- Not overdramatic, because he's scared for obvious and understandable reasons.

- But still dramatic.

- He's gonna be needing reassurance every three seconds on this, and even then, he's gonna be all weepy.

- Straight up thinks he's gonna die.

- "Bring me out to the garden one last time" type attitude.

- When it becomes clear he's not going to die in approximately 10 seconds, he calms down a bit, but he's still super anxious.

- Will absolutely want to cuddle you (along with his egg boys) while he's still super delirious.

- You gotta like tight hugs because when I say cuddle, I mean he will be full-body wrapping around you with his tail around your legs and arms around your shoulders.

- Denies it happening outright after his temperature comes down, though, and is super embarrassed.

- Cheers up at about the 4 day mark.

- Stays in his room with you and probably just discusses and brainstorms ideas for different kinds of weapons and machines.

- Tbh, after he's not contagious anymore and can leave again, he's probably gonna be jealous that you're no longer giving him as much attention as you were.

Angel

- Oh, he's so mad about it.

- He dodged getting sick off of you, Charlie and Vaggie only to get sick because Niffty refused to stay down.

- The whole time he's also really anxious because he's scared Val is gonna order him to come in while he's unwell and force him to still into the studio to do some weird sickness kink type shit.

- Luckily, Val doesn't reach out at all in the time he's sick.

- Him, Husk and you kinda just chill out together doing stuff like watching movies and talking shit.

- Vaggie orders them to stick together to avoid the chance of infecting anyone a second time, and the whole time you're near them, you need to wear a mask.

- Angel is not a clingy sick person. In fact, he doesn't wanna be cuddled at all (at least in the first few days)

- Doesn't like you seeing him sick because he thinks it's super gross.

- He's getting too hot and then too cold every 3 seconds and is super annoyed over it. Just keeps angrily putting on layers and then taking them off again.

- He doesn't like getting cuddled, but he does like you taking care of him and asking if he needs anything, and you reassuring him he'll get better soon.

- He so rarely gets taken care of in that way, so he absolutely eats it up.

- Probably takes to sarcastically calling you parental nicknames when you tell him he has to take meds/eat/drink whatever.

- He starts going absolutely stir crazy by the end of it as well, he hates being cooped up.

- Very appreciative when he's finally able to gtfo and do stuff again.

Husk

- He's by far the most pissed off about getting sick (that you're aware of at least)

- He kept trying to tell Niffty to go away and go to bed, but she just kept clinging to him.

- The whole time he's unwell, he has to suffer through Alastor laughing at him, which all makes it so much worse.

- Alastor just periodically shows up to bully him, and you need to call Vaggie to kick him out for you.

- Husk does not like you trying to take care of him, and will promptly tell you to fuck off with no hesitation if you start trying to caretake him outside of getting him food and stuff.

- He's also not happy because when he's really delirious, he is actually extremely affectionate.

- The whole time he's running a fever and especially sick, he will be trying to cling to anything around but especially you.

- Does the type of thing during that period that animals do when you stop petting them and they just. Start whining and looking at you pleadingly for more attention.

- He's horrendously embarrassed about it.

- He relaxes a bit when you promise him not to ever bring it up again, but he's still extremely grumpy.

- Especially because he lowkey blames you as you're the root of the sickness, even though you did everything right with isolating and trying to make sure nobody else caught what you had.

- His appreciation is fairly low in comparison to the others.

Alastor

- Sick? Take care of him?

- HA. Funny joke.

- He doesn't get sick.

- At least, that's what he says and is absolutely fucking horrified and furious when he actually does end up unwell.

- He tries to hide it behind him being 'busy' in his radio tower and 'to leave him alone to his devices'

- Will never ever admit he's sick, let alone allow you to truly take care of him. Even the thought fills him with such disgust that his smile almost wavers.

- You don't see or hear from him the whole time, but you can tell he's sick. Some kind of intuition.

- You just bring him stuff to eat, drink and take and leave it outside the door - hauling ass tf away as you knock on the door.

- He still knows you know and are bringing him stuff, and it pisses him off massively.

- He doesn't ever bring it up though afterwards, and if you do? You're gonna suffer ngl.

Masterlist

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wandagcre · 6 months

Note

What about Sam having a hyper energy golden retriever gf??

sam with a hyper golden retriever girlfriend

(gif not mine, credits to who owns them)

OH BOY. you weren't only a sunshine for sam but fueled with an unmatched high energy, you were basically a deadly combination for her

deadly in a way where sam sometimes can't keep up with you BUT tries hard to do so because she absolutely adores how you light up the room! she refuses to make you uncomfortable or ashamed in any way <3

it's like, she's sleepy? but you're still rambling and tugging on her arm? NOT ANYMORE. you can see sam fighting it off and you give a hearty chuckle because she's reaaally close to dozing off she looks so silly you can barely see her pretty brown eyes anymore 🥺

seriously, sam can't remember the last time someone made her smile this MUCH. all of her facial muscles are working overtime whenever she's around you!! it's so infectious it warms her heart ;(

texts between you two are the funniest 😭

sam: Good Morning ☺️❤️

you: OH MY GOD

you: the absolute love of my freaking life.

you: my precious girlfriend. finally you have graced me with your existence. i could not be anymore glad about this thank you, thank you 🥰

sam: We have been dating for 2 years now? And I'm coming to your house later BTW

you: your point????

sam: Ha. I love you, silly goose :,) 💐

[also you: had been bombing her notifs over cute pictures and videos for the past hour and sam will check them religiously and react one by one on her free time, ASAP]

would kill (considers it in literal sense) if someone was responsible for your mood drop in an instant. sam is worried and already beside you to try and comfort you because?? who dares to disrupt your sunshine self?? it's equivalent to kicking a cute puppy for her!

keeps you away from energy or any caffeinated drinks 😭 besides that it was a death sentence given your nature, she'll insist how they're super unhealthy and you're shocked that sam's literally listing all of the cons of it - you're surprised why she is ranting about your kidneys and all? 😭

AND YOUR PUPPY EYES? no, sam will not cave in. (sam totally would) (she will end up doing a deal with you to balance things up)

in return, she'll check on your daily water intake because that's more replenishing for your body

LOVES YOUR BIG GESTURES. the way you talk with your limbs involved and all the sound effects, it's pleasing to her honestly sam has never seen someone look so endearing and highly entertaining of a storyteller as you are

you probably see the goodness in people and tries so hard to understand that and sam admires you so sooo much for that ;( literally, you're her angel

she probably has you saved on her contacts as "(y/n/n) ☀️🥰🐶"

and that trait of yours probably what made sam to be at ease with you. usually she's closed off but even with you knowing the truth about her life, how she had this grim upbringing, you just sat there soaking all the information up with attentive eyes and comforting touch on her hand

sam doesn't expect that it will lead to an eventual romantic relationship between you two or how your soothing presence has made her try her hardest to open up more and more to you!! ;(

and what she likes is that you match your words with actions. whether it's good or bad, she loves the transparency and honesty. it proves that you're not faking anything. sam thinks that's rare to have these days and you being like that? makes her love you so sooo much even more ;((

like literally, it's 3/4 core four + you on the top of her list oh my goddd

sam would be surprised at your bursts of energetic moments especially in public for the first time, sometimes even later on, but embarrassed? never! it's new to her and you're just there beaming and not caring about what others think. she thinks you're the cutest for that!! <333

#gg.answers #sam carpenter x reader #headcanons #sam carpenter x fem reader #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter x you #scream vi #anon #request

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eldritch-nightmare · 8 months

Text

do they have deal breakers?

a/n: idk i just thought this would be an interesting thing to write.

synopsis: what are some deal breakers for them? what can they not tolerate?

includes: slenderman, jeff the killer, eyeless jack, laughing jack, jane the killer, nina the killer, the bloody painter, candy pop, the doll maker, jason the toymaker, dr smiley, nurse ann, the puppeteer, clockwork, zalgo, hobo heart, ticci toby, zero, kagekao, nathan the nobody, homicidal liu + sully, tim wright, brian thomas, jay merrick, jessica locke, and alex kralie.

SLENDERMAN doesn't have a lot of deal breakers, to be quite honest. it doesn't have any preferences when it comes to romance. i suppose if it had to pick something, it would say that it would rather avoid dating people with a disdain towards nature. it literally lives in nature, so... it would also probably avoid people who have children in their life, be it a parent or a teacher.

JEFF THE KILLER has a two off the top of his head. firstly, he will never date a Fangirl capital 'F'. if he even gets the slightest inkling that someone might be a fan of his, it's an immediate no and that person very well may lose their life. and secondly, he refuses to date anyone who hates his brother. yeah, he and liu don't get along and liu wants him dead but in his mind, liu is still the most important person in jeff's life. people who commit arson are on thin fucking ice.

EYELESS JACK is fairly lax when it comes to 'deal breakers'. he doesn't have anything he dislikes, and there isn't any type of behavior that he necessarily avoids either. people who aren't fond of cannibalism would be difficult to date, he supposes. he doesn't really like people who may try keeping his as a pet either. and... maybe people who are in cults...

LAUGHING JACK is one sick and twisted bastard so deal breakers are very unlikely. realistically, his partner being around kids should probably be a deal breaker but that's... literally the only way to meet him. he's incredibly complex so he really won't know his own deal breakers until he's like... in the situation, y'know?

JANE THE KILLER has one immediate deal breaker. if you like jeff the killer, she immediately feels immense disdain toward you and she will never even acknowledge your existence, not unless she's forced to. jane richardson is also lesbian, so men are an immediate no.

NINA THE KILLER has one immediate deal breaker as well. if you dislike jeff the killer, she will not get along with you. she and jeff have a love-hate relationship but at the end of the day, he's still her idol and she looks up to him a lot, so.

THE BLOODY PAINTER barely interacts with people to really know if he has any deal breakers. perhaps people who dislike art? though, he can't really fault someone for not seeing the beauty held within the multitudes of art all around the world.

CANDY POP isn't the biggest fan of people he deems to be annoying or boring. now, i know what you're thinking, candy pop literally finds joy in annoying people, so wouldn't he be delighted to have a partner who behaves the same way? absolutely not. he likes to be the one terrorizing people; he does not want to be terrorized.

THE DOLL MAKER is immediately hesitant around older men, so if you are a guy and you're older than him then just know he'll avoid you like the plague. also, due to his pyrophobia, arsonists and people fascinated by fire get an immediate no from him. anyone who may poke fun at the dolls he creates aren't welcome either, and he'll probably end up turning them into a doll.

JASON THE TOYMAKER has one goal only and it is to find 'the one for him' so like... not many deal breakers here. just fall in love with him and never ever reject him and everything will be good! you'll be turned into a wax doll, otherwise, and that's a terrible fate to suffer.

DR SMILEY also rarely interacts with people, though he's not the biggest fan of people who so desperately cling to life and believe that death is something to be afraid of.

NURSE ANN just doesn't like people in general and only has like... three people she enjoys being around so the likelihood of her growing to like someone is small. that being said, something that immediately makes her dislike a person is when they mock her for not speaking often.

THE PUPPETEER has major disdain for people he cannot control. unless he's already grown attached to (ex. emra) or reliant on them (ex. zachary), then disobedience is not something he can tolerate. he's also not the biggest fan of super-duper cheerful people, though that's only because it makes killing them harder.

CLOCKWORK by default cannot stand anyone who reminds her of her past. she wants nothing more than to forget the pain and hell she went through, so to find a person who reminds her of all that trauma? yeah, no, they gotta go.

ZALGO literally hates everything and everyone but on the very slight chance that someone manages to worm their way into the essence of his being, then so long as they don't mind humanity's downfall then they're fine. bonus points if they're good with kids because holy shit he doesn't know how to be a dad. and if they dislike kids then like... that's fine, i guess, but he'll be a bit bitter.

HOBO HEART is fairly hesitant when it comes to love. the one time he fell in love, she threw his heart away. he's hesitant to fall in love again, but he could never fall for anyone who would so willingly leave him behind. he's not the biggest fan of liars either. simply put, he could never love someone who doesn't value their own heart.

TICCI TOBY already keeps people at a distance, but it's an immediate deal breaker when someone starts making fun of him. if someone makes a bad comment about lyra or his mother, then that's also an immediate no. anyone who heavily drinks alcohol is a no. anyone who 'teases' him about his tourette's is a no. anyone who doesn't take his CIPA seriously is a no.

ZERO could never be in a relationship with someone with the mindset of 'i can fix her' because she doesn't need to be fixed. honestly, you should consider yourself lucky that she's somehow managed to grow an attachment to you considering her disregard for everyone around her. do something to make her hate you and you'll regret it.

KAGEKAO is gay, first and foremost, so if you're a woman then it just won't work out. he's fluent in english as well so you don't necessarily have to know japanese, though he'd love for you to learn. people who make comments about his wine habits or tell him to cut back on drinking wine will be disposed of immediately. he also isn't fond of boring people.

NATHAN THE NOBODY tends to believe that most people are in the organization that took away his sister, so by default, it's an immediate no if he comes to believe that someone is in the organization. he can't come to terms with his sister's death, so he'll get rid of anyone who tries to make him see that she's dead.

HOMICIDAL LIU hardly ever gives romance any thought because he's so caught up in his goal of trying to kill jeff that it rarely ever crosses his mind, so deal breakers aren't something he's given much thought. people who aren't fond of arson probably won't like liu, so they're a no. anyone who thinks he should forgive jeff is an immediate no. anyone who is a fangirl of jeff or idolizes him the way nina does is also an immediate no. people who aren't fond of smoking most certainly won't like him so they're also a no. anyone who sees no harm in mocking and bullying other people is a no.

SULLY has deal breakers relatively similar to liu. if you're a jeff groupie then he honestly wants nothing to do with you. if you are a threat to liu in any way shape or form, then he's already planning a way to dispose of you. other than that, he's pretty laid back with this sort of stuff.

TIM WRIGHT has a habit of smoking so people who can't stand the smell of cigarette smoke should probably avoid him. he isn't close to a lot of people so when someone betrays his trust, it really hits him hard so people with a habit of lying are an immediate no.

BRIAN THOMAS is a bros before hoes sorta guy in the sense that if his partner doesn't like his friends then suddenly he doesn't have a partner anymore. he can't date someone who dislikes the people he's closest to, it just doesn't work that way. especially if they dislike tim, like... that's his best friend there, dude.

JAY MERRICK is a gay man so if you are a woman, then... yeah. it won't work. you stand no chance with jay if you don't believe him when he tells you that something is seriously wrong. he doesn't like people who avoid telling him about an issue because it stresses him out a lot so he would rather prefer people who can openly tell him if something is wrong.

JESSICA LOCKE is lesbian, so men simply just do not have a chance with her. she doesn't really have many deal breakers though, to be honest. at least none that come to the top of her head. she'd probably have to experience something to decide whether or not that's a deal breaker for her, y'know?

ALEX KRALIE is like... deeply unhinged in every way possible and will try killing his partner no matter what, so. let's just use the alex before all the operator stuff happened! he can't be with anyone who doesn't support him or his passion project, marble hornets. and in the midst of marble hornets, he will try to kill his partner. there's no avoiding that. he, himself, is a deal breaker, gotta be honest here.

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gay-dorito-dust · 11 months

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would you do basically reader's universe collapsed and she's in shock and horrified back at the spider society hq and miguel's basically grudgingly comforting this teenage spider version who says she failed?

I know I say this about pretty much everything I write but this might be a lil -or a lot- like ass. My brain took a holiday and left this behind 😂

‘Miguel, you’ve got to go to them.’ Lyla said, looking at you.

‘No.’

She huffed and looked at him. ‘Why not?! If anyone here can relate to how they’re feeling right now it’s you.’

‘That’s different.’ Miguel replied, keeping his back to her. The reason why he was being so hesitant to comfort you was because of that familiar look of primal fear in your eyes; You were painfully reminded him of the things and the people that he’s lost, their bodies were warped and distorted until they vanished into nothingness before his very eyes as he was then left unable to prevent it from consuming everything-including his daughter, Gabriella- in their entirety until nothing remained but the memories.

‘How is it?’ Lyla asked, only understanding Miguel’s attitude towards your situation as heartless and unnecessary cruel, you had just been displaced from your home that starting as of now, quite literally does not exist, in what could be considered the worse way imaginable and were in dire need of a shoulder to lean; Lyla thought that due to shared experience, Miguel would be that comforting figure but to hear him downright refuse to check in on you made her put him under intense questioning.

‘Because it is.’ Miguel responded vaguely. Lyla huffs again but said under her breath, ‘what kind of leader are you if you’re not going to be there when it counts.’ Before disappearing, leaving Miguel to press his head into his hands, breathing in deeply and holding it for a couple of seconds before exhaling; On most occasions he hated to admit it but in this instances, Lyla was undeniably right in the fact that you were in need of support but for that support to come from him was where he hesitates. For Miguel was still very much hung up on what happened to Gabriella that he was trying to process what happened under a logistical viewpoint that he had yet to emotionally recover from his losses.

So when he looked back at you to see you staring off at a wall opposite, blankly, mentally having checked out the moment you were brought back to hq by the scruff of your neck. Your friends, Hobie, Miles, Pavitr and Gwen came to check on you regularly but even they couldn’t put your broken pieces together; so one of all of them would just keep you company by making sure you were that you weren’t neglecting your basic needs. While nice as that all was, it doesn’t get rid of the fact that you had no home anymore to return to, no family, no friends; and worst off you had nothing to remember them by but the memories that would forever haunt you to the point where even sleep felt like a method of torture.

‘Mr o’hara.’ Your voice reached out to him. ‘Did…did I fail?’ Miguel, forever a father at heart, felt pained by your words, he knew that he was partially to blame for putting it in everyone’s head that to have your home reality collapse was a fault upon the Spider charged with guarding it, but he thought by doing so everyone would work better at keeping their wits about them and keep their realities stable; unlike him who was more taken by the fact that he had a family elsewhere and wanted to indulge in a life that wasn’t his to experience.

‘No.’ Miguel finally said as he joined at your side. ‘You didn’t fail, you fought valiantly in protecting your reality.’ This didn’t seem to reassure you of anything as you responded with, ‘if I fought so valiantly as you say, then why does it feel like I single handedly destroyed everything I swore to defend as Spider-Man?’ Miguel thought the very same on a daily basis that he didn’t wake up or go to sleep without reminding himself as a way to keep him within that moment; and in doing so he had driven himself to the point where he didn’t recognise the person staring back at him in the mirror. He grew angry, he grew hateful, he grew spiteful and had grown to be condition himself into finding comfort in his isolation and solitude to the point he couldn’t remember who he was outside all of it.

He didn’t want you going down a similar route as he did, for it wasn’t a life he thought best suited you.

‘I was exactly where you are right now, to be honest I still am,’ Miguel admits, ‘I blamed and blamed myself to the point I lost sight of who I once was but you.’ He placed a hand on your shoulder awkwardly, it was obvious that he wasn’t use to having to comfort someone and you couldn’t help but appreciate his attempt. ‘Despite everything that has happened to you thus far, you are still you and that’s far more admirable then any feet of physical strength and you wanna know why?’ Miguel asked rhetorically as he moved to kneel in front of you so that you would be forced to look into his eyes. ‘It takes an extraordinary person to to come out of hell the same person they entered as.’ He tells you, smiling to himself when he saw a small flicker of light return to your eyes, even if it was minuscule and brief, it was a start.

‘You’re not alone, even if you may feel it more so then ever, you��re not and you never will be alone, especially with friends like yours.’ Miguel continues as his eyes lifted over your shoulder, causing you to look also as Gwen, Miles, Pavitr and Hobie could be seen poking their heads into the room; Upon realising that they’ve been caught, the quartet attempted to act as casual as they could with Hobie leaning cooly against the doorframe, tuning his guitar, whilst Pavitr began to talking to Miles and Gwen about something. You couldn’t help but smile a little wider upon seeing your friends, you were so lost amidst what you lost that you didn’t see what was right in front of you, and Miguel could tell that they mean more to you then anything and you wanted nothing more then to show them that you were on the mend of being okay again.

‘I just want to make them proud.’ You said but Miguel knew you weren’t talking about your friends in that moment as a melancholic look crossed over your face when you looked back at him. ‘I can’t speak on their behalf but I’d like to think you already have, they know you tried and they couldn’t be prouder of you. There’s no reason to hold unjustified resentment towards yourself over something that you couldn’t have possibly known was coming.’ He says softly. ‘The hardest part of healing is knowing when it isn’t your fault because we’ve conditioned ourselves to bear the brunt of the blame, to the point where it’s hard for us to understand that when something catastrophic happens, we have no real control nor dictation over it or how it happens. We can be doing our best and it’ll still come whether or not we spend our whole lives preparing for it.’

You reached over to hug Miguel, burying your face into his shoulder, clinging onto him for dear life as he goes stiff as a board at the contact. ‘Thank you.’ You said, voice muffled but it was still coherent enough for him to hear it. Miguel’s body relaxed once realising he wasn’t in any trouble and he brought his arms to cage you against him. ‘No problem kid, just don’t go thinking you have to be be responsible for everything in life because that’s not a healthy way to live and realise that you’re not alone in this for you will always have us to fall back on.’

#atsv x reader #spiderman atsv #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman : across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv imagines #spiderman atsv x you #spiderman atsv x reader #spiderman atsv imagine #spiderman atsv fic #miguel o’hara imagines #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara imagine

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amsgrey · 2 months

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request for a kaz brekker x reader one bed trope! literally some of my favorite fics to read ever!!! def with some angst maybe reader gets injured on the heist and kaz has to help. reader insists that they should sleep in the same bed and they end up confessing feelings or something. SO GOOD

Thank you for the request! Sorry it took so long but hey, it's alright.

Warnings: Violence, Blood, typical canon violence, kind of OOC!Kaz, semi-bad writing.

“Hey,” Nina didn’t bother knocking as she stepped into your room, “There’s someone here to see you.”

You looked up from your small desk, “Who?”

Nina shrugged, “Wouldn’t say, but she won't leave until she speaks with you.”

You frowned, getting to your feet and following after Nina. A million possibilities ran through your mind as you descended the stairs, you didn’t know many people from Ketterdam, or you didn’t know anyone that Kaz also didn’t know. WHo had come to speak to you was a complete mystery to you and judging by the way the Crows were gathered at the bottom of the stairs, it was a mystery to them too.

“Who is she?” Jesper broke the heavy silence first.

You rolled your eyes, “How am i supposed to know, Jes?”

Walking past him and the others you looked for the woman. There were a few dregs hanging around in the slat, like always. Hiding from the damp Ketterdam air or filling in their afternoons with ale and gambling. It meant the woman stuck out like a sore thumb. When you finally saw her, your blood ran cold.

“Oh, my,” The woman stepped forward, she grabbed your hands and smiled at you, “Look how grown up you are, my dear.”

She pulled you into a hug, an awkward show of affection that she had never done before.

“Mother.”

She hadn’t changed in the 7 or so years since you saw her last, a few graying hairs and wrinkles around her eyes were the only evidence time had passed. She still wore the same turquoise dress, the fabric stained and dirty where it spent too many years dragging on the dirt. She had tied a knitted shawl around her shoulders, to stave off the cold of the barrel and to make herself look more presentable. When you were a child on the farm with your parents, your mother would refuse to do any of the hard labor or household duties, always dressed in her ‘fine’ clothes and sitting by a window like the queen of Ravka.

You hated her for it then, the way she forced you to conduct her duties. The hard labor with your father on the farm, the chores inside the home, raising your three younger siblings. Looking at the woman before you now, you hated her just as much.

“What do you want, mother?” You forced out through gritted teeth.

The woman batted your hand she still held, a sharp smack to chide you for your tone, “Is that how you speak to the woman who raised you?”

She didn’t raise you though. Your father was the one who taught you everything you knew, cared and loved you. The marriage of your parents had been of convenience, a rich farmer up the road had fallen on hard times so he married off his only daughter to your father. Something neither of them wanted.

When your father had died suddenly in a farming accident, your mother had sold you to slavers, without a second thought. You had spent years in Ketterdam trying to bury the memories of your younger brothers screaming for you to stay, the chains that chaffed and burnt your skin and the cruel men who didn’t care about anything but making coins.

Standing with your mother before you, her soft hands gripping you so tightly, you felt like a young girl all over again. Begging for affection from a woman who hated your existence, cursed to always be nothing to her. You could still remember the beatings and the screaming, the bruises that you tried to hide and the permanent split in your lip which took years to properly heal.

Kaz was watching the whole encounter, quiet and calculating like he always was. The other crows were growing concerned, there was an air of uncertainty that settled over them all.

“What can we help you with?” Kaz finally spoke, he stepped closer to you, towering over your mother. Having him at your side brought you ease, a feeling of calm that always came over you when he was near. Kaz was prepared for anything, he always looked out for you and the crows.

“And you are?” Your mother snapped, glaring at Kaz.

Kaz didn’t seem bothered, “Are you here for something? Or to terrorize your daughter?”

You glanced back at Kaz, he had a look of pure rage in his eyes. You hadn’t told Kaz the details of your past, but he knew your mother sold you to slavers. You realized suddenly you didn’t want to be in the middle of Kaz and your mother fighting.

You grabbed your mothers arm, dragging her away from the gathered Crows and Kaz’s glower and pulling her outside. In the Ketterdam air things were immediately colder, you hadn’t grabbed your coat so you could feel it even more.

“What are you doing here?” You demanded.

“Can I not come see my daughter?”

“You never cared before, I didn’t even know you knew this is where I lived. You sold me to slavers,” You cried, stepping away as you started to get upset. “What in Sankta Alina could you want?”

“I am married,” Your mother boasted, “He lives in the Zelver district, we want you to come have dinner.”

You were reeling, so much information was thrown at you all at once. You gapped to answer.

“Your brothers will be there too,” Your mother waved her hand like she was dismissing your concerns, “They stayed on the farm.”

“Why- why do you want me there?”

“To make amends, my love,” She took your hands again, “It is time we act like a family again. Perhaps you could bring that guard dog of yours, act civilized.”

You wanted to say yes, straight away you wanted to say yes and trust that she had true intentions. But there was something nagging in your mind.

“Who is it that you're married to, mother?”

“A Merchant, trades with the Ravkan crown, Alexei Berezin.”

You recognized the name immediately, he had one of the largest mansions in the Zelver district, rivaled only by foreign dignitaries. He had brought in a large shipment of Ravkan gold and silk, Kaz had stolen half of it almost immediately, because Berezin had thought himself untouchable.

“When's dinner?” You forced out, trying not to let your knowledge of the man show.

“Tomorrow, be there by seven.”

She wandered away, slipping into the crowd of foot traffic and joining the mess of colours.

“Alexei Berezin.”

You forced a smile, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The man looked over you and Kaz like you were nothing, he grunted in greeting and disappeared towards the drinks cart.

You looked at Kaz, “Too late to leave?”

Kaz smiled, it made him look softer somehow, “We don’t have to stay long, let's hope Inej and Wylan are quick.”

A servant greeted you as you walked further into the drawing room, she offered you and Kaz wine in crystal glasses. You had played being rich at banquets and galas before, it was easy to hide in a crowd of rich people to steal from them, but here holding the crystal glass made you feel so exposed. The only thing that was stopping you from running out the door was Kaz by your side. He always looked out for you, tonight would be no different.

Your mother had lied, your brothers were not at the dinner. She had spun some more lies about how they hadn't been able to make the journey but you wondered if they were even invited in the first place. You, Kaz, your mother and her new husband all sat at the ridiculously long table, eating silently except for a few forced comments.

“So,” Berezin belched, downing his fourth glass of brandy, “Mr Brekker, how is business?”

Kaz looked at you from across the table, “As good as yours, Berezin.”

Berezin snared, “So then you admit to taking my shipment?”

“A shipment?” Kaz leant back, starting to enjoy the game.

Berezin started getting red in the face, rage barely contained in his eyes, “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Dirty Hands.”

A smile ghosted across Kaz’s face, “Is this why you extended the invite, Berezin? Hoping to get your silks back?”

You jumped when Berezin slammed his fist on the table, he stood abruptly, his chair falling backwards loudly, “You listen to me here boy! You will pay me back what I am owed or I will make your life a living hell!”

“A living hell?”

“You have no idea who you are messing with, you and your little whore will pay-”

Kaz was on his feet faster than you had time to process, “Watch your mouth, Berezin, or silks won't be the only thing you lose.”

Berezin started shouting in rage, his words mostly coming out as jumbled insults and threats which didn’t mean anything for you and Kaz.

“We’re leaving,” You said to your mother, not bothering to bid her a proper goodbye as you joined Kaz’s side and retrieved your coats.

You were both halfway through the foyer when things took a turn.

Somewhere in the garden outside a fire roared to life, a green chemical fire that was Wylan's emergency beacon. Kaz urged you to walk faster, his cane striking loudly against the marble floor as you both tried to leave before Berezin caught on.

“Thief!”

Kaz grabbed your hand, and both of you ran the rest of the way out of the house and down the garden path. Berezin was screaming from inside the house, shouting orders to his few guards and screaming for someone to alert the Stadwatch. You and Kaz didn’t stop running until you reached the canal, skittering to a stop and dropping into the waiting boat. Matthias and Wylan were already there, Wylan was heaving like he had just finished a mad dash too.

“Did you get it?” Kaz demanded as Matthias started to row the boat towards 4th Harbor.

Wylan was nodding, “Handed it off to Inej, she and Jesper are heading to the warehouse now.”

You had to give it to Kaz, when he had explained the plan this morning after all-night scheming, you didn’t think you would be able to pull it off. But yet again, he proved he knew everyone's skills.

The plan was somewhat simple, you and Kaz would entertain Berezin while Wylan posed as a servant and slipped into Berezin's office. Wylan would swipe the key to Berezins safe which sat in his warehouse; it was old and Ravkan, protected by small science. You didn’t have enough time on the first job to try and crack it, so now was the perfect time. The original plan was for you and Kaz to stay all through dinner and whatever other pleasantries were to be had, while Wylan snuck through undetected. His Green fire beacon was a sign he had been caught, so you and Kaz hightailed out before things got too nasty.

Inej and Jesper were on their way to the safe now, while you, Kaz, Matthias and Wylan drew attention in the opposite direction. Headed towards 4th Harbor meant the four of you could lead the following guards and Stadwatch into the twisting streets and narrow wharves and hopefully escape into the crowd.

As Matthias moored the boat to the side of the canal, you and Wylan climbed out and surveyed where you were.

“Are you alright?” You asked him, still aware of how his hands shook.

Wylan nodded, but you were unconvinced.

Matthias and Kaz climbed out of the boat after you, the four of you standing at the canal edge for a moment while you tried to compose yourselves.

“Hey! Stop right there!”

“Bastards,” Kaz swore, already ushering the three of you to run before they started to shoot.

“Kaz, they're after us, not Wylan and Matthias…” You shouted as you ran down the street alongside the canal, headed towards the Council of the Tides Watchtower.

Kaz ordered everyone to stop, “Y/N’s right, Wylan, Matthias, head back towards the slat, take the long way and check for tails, we’ll go the opposite way.”

Matthias started to argue, “No, we should-”

You all ducked as gunfire echoed through the streets. Bullets ricochet off the cobbles at your feet, dangerously close to hitting one of you.

“Go!” Kaz yelled over the noise, blindly reaching for your hand and pulling you along with him as you headed away from Matthias and Wylan and towards the government district.

You were right, the three or four guards from Berezin's estate followed you, not your friends as you rushed through the dark streets. At this time of the night, the Crow Club and the surrounding area would be buzzing with life, but in this part of town, everyone was shut inside asleep. There weren’t many lights, aside from a few lanterns left on in people's doorways, so as you and Kaz ran you stuck to shadows and unlit alleyways, hoping to lose your stalkers in the maze of buildings.

Kaz pulled you to a stop after running for ten minutes and started to take a toll on him and his leg. The two of you ducked into an alley, Kaz leaned heavily against the wall and his cane, heaving as he regained his breath. You glanced over him, worried that he wouldn’t be able to continue for much longer.

“Maybe we lost them,” You whispered, peaking around the corner to the main street, which was completely deserted aside from a rogue tabby.

Kaz nodded, unable to speak a reply. You kept glancing from the main street to the end of the alley, which appeared as if it curved around and kept going. You had no idea if it was a dead end or not, but staying here was making you anxious, it was still too exposed.

“I Have a safe house not far from here,” Kaz said, pushing off from the wall and leaning on his cane.

“A safe house?” You replied, “In the government district?”

Kaz rolled his eyes, “You underestimate me.”

If he hadn’t been hurt you would have pushed him away, chuckling at his comment. Instead, you opted for offering him your arm so you could walk out of the alley together, hopefully, Stadwatch who patrolled the area would think you were a couple returning home.

The two of you walked arm and arm down a few streets, smiling pleasantly at the passing Stadwatch or the rare delegate returning to their boarding. After a few turns Kaz said you weren’t far from the safe house, which was an old apartment above a tailor.

“How did you even get an apartment above a tailor?” You teased, “Hiding a side business?”

The sound of a gun cocking stopped you both in your tracks.

“You even twitched, I put a bullet in the girl.”

The barrel of the gun was jammed into your back, the voice behind you ordering you both to turn with your hands up.

The two men before you were guards for Berezin, you could tell from the crest that was pinned to their jackets. You looked around for the other two men, but they weren’t around. Hopefully, they were far away, you weren't sure if you could win a 2-1 battle tonight.

You moved to pull your flint from your pocket, you had stowed it away safely the first time you and Kaz had run for your lives tonight, now you wished you stayed holding it. Your hand slipped into the pocket of your coat, your fingertips brushed the cool material, pulling into your fist and preparing yourself to summon. You only had one chance at this. The sound of the gun firing struck you first, the deafening crack that bounced from the walls. The searing pain in your right side forced your fist open in shock, your flint clattering to the cobbles as your other hand came to cradle your side. Immediately your blood started seeping through your fingers, soaking through your coat and dripping onto the street below. You looked up at the man who shot you, just in time to see Kaz bring his cane cracking into the side of the man's face. It sent him sprawling, the force of the blow knocking him off balance. You used your opportunity to kick the second man in the shin, stunning him for long enough for Kaz to incapacitate him too.

Kaz wound his arm around your waist, pulling you away from the two men as they groaned on the ground and dragging you up the street.

“Just hold on a little longer,” He spoke as he led you down another side alley, “We’re almost there.”

He forced you to stop before an old door as he fiddled with the lock. The dark green paint was peeling, revealing the chipped and water-stained wood. Kaz flickered with the lock for a few seconds and the door swung open, revealing a steep staircase into the safe house.

“You’re kidding,” You groaned, letting Kaz shuffle you into the small space as he shut and locked the door.

“Go on then,” Kaz smirked, pushing you up the stairs.

The two of you climbed up the stairs, silent as you struggled together. When you reached the top, Kaz opened the final door and you both tumbled through over the threshold. The safe house was less of a house and more of a safe room. Filled with crates and shadows of objects you couldn’t make out, it felt much more cramped than your room in the Slat. Kaz pulled out his bone light, casting the room in the pale green light. With the new light, you could see the space clearer. A sink in the far corner close to the only window, and a bed pushed as far from the window as possible. You stumbled over to the sink, holding yourself up on the basin as you tried to get a look in the small mirror at your wound.

“Let me help,” Kaz ordered, pulling out a crate from the wall and forcing you to sit down.

Kaz looked over your side, letting you know the bullet had gone straight through, but would need some stitches and to be cleaned. There was a pause where you both realized you would have to remove your coat and top so Kaz could see better. With shaky hands, you slowly unbuttoned your coat. Kaz helped you guide it off your shoulders, letting it fall out of the way.

“You’ll have to unzip my dress,” You whispered to Kaz, hands going back to your throbbing side.

Kaz cleared his throat, nodding and stepping around you to follow your instructions. You could feel the smooth leather of his gloves ghost over the skin on your neck as he fiddled for the zip. He couldn’t get a good grip, abandoning one of his gloves on the floor so he could hold the small tab properly. Kaz’s fingers were freezing, When he touched the skin on your back the chill seeped under your skin and into your bones. You focused all your energy on not shivering against the feeling. He gently folded the dress down, letting it fall around your hips so he could see the bullet wound clearer. It left you in your bra and skirt half of your dress, yet you didn't feel exposed. Kaz was nothing if not respectful to you and you truly felt nothing but trust for him now.

There were no words between you as Kaz stepped to your side and crouched down. You could see him out of the corner of your eye, but he was focused solely on your wound, his brow scrunched up in a frown.

The two of you stayed silent as Kaz worked. You handed him what he asked for, a wet rag, sutures and a needle, a bandage. When he had finally tied off the last stitch, he started to bandage your waist. By now he had abandoned his other glove to the floor too, both of them covered in your blood and useless to him. He focused on the warmth of your skin as he wrapped the bandage around your waist, making sure to wrap it a few times to ensure it was secure. When he was finished, he noticed how quiet you had gotten, staring down at the floor with slightly glazed eyes.

“Are you alright?” Kaz’s voice came out more of a croak, just above a whisper. It pulled you from your dissociation, pulling you into the moment. You turned to look at him, The bastard of the Barrel kneeling by your side, hands stained with your blood and the most caring, almost loving look in his eyes.

You must have lost more blood than you thought, Kaz did not love you.

“I’m fine.”

Kaz nodded once, shakingly pushing himself off the ground and turning on the water to wash clean his hands. You didn’t move from the crate, mostly because you were unsure of what to do and also because there wasn’t exactly space to move in the room anyway.

“You should sleep.” Kaz said, refusing to look up at you from the sink.

“We both should. You can take the bed.”

Kaz shook his head, “No. You're injured, you take it.”

You rolled your eyes, “Did you sleep last night Kaz?”

There was a heavy silence.

“So you need to sleep now. There's plenty of room for both of us anyway.”

You knew as soon as you said it the atmosphere had changed. It was well known Kaz kept his distance when he wasn’t wearing gloves. You had rarely seen him without them no matter where he was. After the longest silence, Kaz finally nodded, letting out the quietest, “Okay.”

He turned to you, “There should be a stash of clothes in one of these crates, I could find them?”

You smiled, nodding. Sitting with the top of your dress folded down was starting to get cold and sleeping like this would only make things more awkward.

Kaz riffled through a few crates, finding ammo and whiskey before finding the crate filled with shirts and trousers. He pulled one of each out, setting them on the bed and turning his back so that you could get changed with some semblance of modesty. It was amusing for you, that he had already seen enough but he was too kind to even risk a glance now.

When you had gotten into the clothes, with a little struggle trying to lift your arm into the sleeve, you pulled back the quilt on the bed. Kaz helped, letting you shuffle across the bed to where it pressed to the wall. The bed was so much bigger than your one, more likely double the size. Your bed hardly fits you in it, slightly too short and skinny because of the awkward rooms of the Slat. This bed was different. Although not as soft as your own, the size meant you and Kaz both had enough room so that you weren’t too close.

Kaz was about to lie the quilt down and get on top when you stopped him.

“Are you mad?”

“What?” He scoffed, confused as to why you were heckling him now.

“Kaz Brekker, you will get cold. Just get under the quilt and stop acting like we’re some teenagers who can’t get ahold of ourselves.”

Kaz stared at you in shock, blinking down at you with pure perplexion in his eyes.

“Jesper was right,” He sighed, getting situated under the quilt to please you.

“Right about what?” You pressed, turning in the bed to fix him with a glare.

“You are cranky when you're tired.”

“Oh shut up,” You scoffed, rolling back to stare at the ceiling and now him.

Kaz chuckled, by now the bone light was fading steadily, the pale green light becoming nothing more than a faint glow from the corner of the room. You couldn’t see Kaz’s face too well, barrel able to make out the faint outline of his features in the dark.

For a while, the two of you lay in silence, the only noise coming from the far-off sound of waves in the harbor. With no one else on the streets, every time footsteps echoed around in the streets below, you held your breath.

“They won’t find us,” Kaz whispered, feeling you tense next to him.

You didn’t respond, trying not to panic yourself further.

“Listen to me,” Kaz shifted, the bed shaking slightly under you both, “We’re safe here, I won’t let anything happen to you, not again.”

“Wasn’t your fault,” You responded, mirroring Kaz’s movements to face him, “Jobs go wrong sometimes.”

Kaz didn’t react, “Sleep. We’ll head back to the salt when the city wakes up.”

You wouldn’t say it out loud, but Kaz being by your side to protect you filled you with a sense of ease. You could relax back into the pillow and trust that he was going to look after you, no matter what. As you slipped into sleep, you thought dreamily about how much you cared for the bastard of the barrel, even if he didn’t share the same feelings.

Kaz was thinking the same as he watched over you. He sat up in the bed as soon as you had fallen asleep, staring at the door in the dark, prepared for anything that might come barreling through it. He cared too much about you to let you get hurt again, especially when he was the only one around to protect you. He would never say it out loud, like you, but he would do anything to protect you from harm in the city where no one mourned.

#kaz brekker x you #ketterdam #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #kaz rietveld #nina zenik x reader #six of crows nina #six of crows x reader #six of crows wylan #six of crows jesper #shadow and bone #soc #sab #one bed trope

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arashi-no-saxlphone · 1 month

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Axl Low is literally insane and inhuman for making that decision at the end of Xrd btw. I know I keep bringing it up but I really don't think we appreciate just how fucking different you have to be to make that decision. Axl lived his whole life doing the right thing and trying to make the world around him better (ending gang violence in his neighborhood, refusing to take a life no matter what, that bit that mentions he cannot ignore someone in trouble) and after all that effort, he gets fucking shafted by fate. I need you to understand that for the majority of this series HE DID NOT HAVE CONTROL OF HIS TIME POWERS: HE WAS SLIPPING TO RANDOM POINTS IN TIME AND HAD NO IDEA WHY. There are a few moments where he gets happy with a specific situation and TIME SLIPS IMMEDIATELY! This happens to him for YEARS. Do you know how insane that would make the average person? He misses his home, he misses his friends, he misses his wife Tails (he misses her a lot), and he just can't do anything about it.

Now imagine after all that you find out you can go back. You have a way back home. "Finally, it's fucking over. I can be done"

Oh but hold on! You are a Time God now, a "Possibility!" If you go back you are essentially killing everyone in THIS timeline (which is fucked up and shitty and plagued by monsters, arguably) and you are just a normal man who has to cope with all of that! But hey, go back if you want, it's your power.

After YEARS of putting up with all that. Put yourself in Axl's shoes. Look me in the eye and tell me you'd give a flying fuck about any of that. Aren't you fucking tired at this point? You didn't ask for this. You were stolen from your time without your consent and time powers got basically stapled to you and now its YOUR fault? You should give a shit and be stuck here forever because of that?

Now, REALLY become Axl Low. Really look back at all that angry paragraph and think to yourself "Wow Sai, that's not how Axl thinks of it at all."

Exactly.

Axl agonizes over a decision that should be easy, even if that decision would be monstrous and selfish, because this is a man who is carried by PERSPECTIVE. Axl is a man who will tell you a glass is half full no matter how you phrase the stupid logic problem, and if you dump the glass out completely he'll just go and get you a fresh one. Axl talks to a bunch of people about his decision - hell, as I recall, Sol actually tells him if he tries that shit he'd try and stop him because that's his world you're erasing. Bedman talks about how much he cares for his sister. I-No talks about how no matter how powerful she is, she can never seem to write the future she wants. Axl seeks the advice of all these people and that's when he realizes:

These are people too. These are people just like him. They didn't ask for this fucked up world they're stuck in either, but they're all living in it. They're making it better. If they can all do it, hell, can't Axl do it too?

"A girl passed by a dog's bark bow wow the smell from that cafe makes me hungry I knew all about it"

Isn't there stuff in this world that makes it special too? Isn't life just as beautiful here too? Don't these people deserve to exist too?

"I'm alive. I'm alive. It is dramatic with just that."

He's still kicking isn't he? Sol's still around and he's been through hell - he's still finding time to drink with this goofy brit he keeps bumping into - Can't Axl find a way to live here too?

He outright admits to Sol that Megumi would probably forgive him - it's an impossibly unfair decision after all, he KNOWS that. But I think after seeing himself in all these people he knows what he'd want- he'd want to live and exist.

And Axl Fucking Low says "How could I be a man worthy of Megumi if I did that?" and saves the fucking world with Sol Badguy. He makes an impossible decision and stays here. And he says he's lucky.

You're the unluckiest man alive, Mr Low. I've not seen anyone get more unfairly treated by fate in my life. But then again-

I suppose I can't convince you how much water you've got in that glass.

#sairambles #guilty gear #axl low #ggst #sol badguy #I-No #Bedman #long post #sorry I've been drinking I kinda started crying about this LOL

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funhouse-mirror-barbie · 4 months

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Nuanced and Multifaceted Conflict vs. “Good v. Evil” in fiction

So. This is another thing I’ve wanted to talk about for a while. I promise I won’t always be focusing on Helluva Boss in my critiques, and I actually have quite a few other series I want to talk about.

There’s a big chance that I’ll be saying everything other people have already said, but I can’t help but WANT to talk about this specific character in regard to the story’s conflict. I think that it’s important to recognize when a character is written to be a complex person, and when a character is written to be an enemy to be defeated, and how not following through with your set-up can affect your story.

And HB does that A LOT in my opinion.

So. Let’s get into it. This time I’ll be talking about complex conflict between characters vs. black and white conflict, and I’ll also be touching on story set-ups and audience expectations.

I want to talk about a character who could have really made some of the internal character conflicts have so much more depth and intrigue. I want to talk about Stella Goetia

*as a side note this post is MUCH longer than I intended but I really wanted to get into a lot of the background and reasons for how Stella’s character development has actually completely changed what HB’d story conflict could have looked like. I’ll try and sum up everything in the end in a TLDR for y’all

So. Most of the reviews of her character I see talk about how she’s been “ruined” by the writing team revealing that she’s always been very abusive towards Stolas

I have to start off by saying I actually don’t think that Stella or her portrayal was “ruined” by the writing direction her character has been taken in.

In fact, this critique bothers me, because it doesn’t really get to what I think the actual root of why people are disappointed in Stella’s characterization, and the type of conflict that now exists between her and Stolas.

The main reason I believe people are unsatisfied with Stella is because they believed that her character was being set up for a complex and nuanced conflict between her and Stolas, and then that turned out not to be the case.

A quick disclaimer- I do think it’s possible to subvert audience expectations about story and characters in a satisfying way. But it has to be done in a way that respects the audiences intelligence and willingness to think about the story.

If your plot-twist, unreliable narrator, subversion, or what-have-you is done well, the audience should be able to either figure out what’s going based on the little information you’ve given them, and if they don’t, the change or subversion should still make sense and CLICK in hindsight.

Otherwise, your subversion will end up feeling cheap or confusing. Or worse, like a lie.

And this is one of the MAIN issues I think people have with Stella.

As the audience, we were NOT given enough information on her or her character before it’s revealed that she’s just “evil” and always has been, apparently since she was a literal child.

Again, I don’t think it’s an inherently bad decision to have a flat or pure evil villain. I’m fine with Stella being one, even if it’s less interesting to me personally.

But it’s definitely very different from what was initially implied and set-up, and the audience can pick up on that.

Before S2E1 “The Circus” we see Stella a total of 3 times in person, with one time being a flashback.

I’m going to go over those times to analyze if anything set-up in Stella’s appearances points towards her being. Well, totally and irredeemably awful and abusive I guess.

The very first time we see Stella is in the same bed with Stolas—Octavia calls for her parents, both Stolas AND Stella. Stella grumbles and refuses to get up and tells Stolas to go. This doesn’t immediately strike me as a sign of her being a terrible person. That exact scenario is present in a lot of family comedies, kids’ movies, and sitcoms.

Nothing about this screams that Stella is a terrible parent or an abusive partner to me. It just tells me she’s tired and doesn’t want to get up, which again, is not uncommon.

The next time we see her, she’s yelling at Stolas, and she throws a servant at him in anger.

Now, there’s no excuse for this, her behavior here is not okay, regardless of her feelings. But we understand why she’s acting the way she is--she’s furious with Stolas for cheating on her. At this point with the information we have, it’s also very reasonable to believe her feelings have been hurt.

Later Octavia talks about how her parents didn’t used to hate each other, and the way Stolas’ tries to explain their failing marriage to her comes across like his relationship with Stella is one that’s always had difficulties that they have tried and failed to overcome.

None of this information is enough to really convey or hint that Stella is and has always been abusive or evil. It shows that Stella and Stolas have a very rough relationship, and that Stella most likely has anger management difficulties, but you have to do lot of extra work to come to the conclusion that Stella is completely at fault here.

The next time we see her though, things have clearly escalated, because it’s revealed that she’s one that hired Striker to assassinate Stolas.

Now. Usually. Yeah. That would be a HUGE red flag. And I mean. It still obviously is.

But, and I never thought I’d use this uno reverse card, this is one of the few times where the explanation of “But it’s hell, what did you expect???” actually makes sense to me.

Because yeah, it is hell. It’s the end of episode 5 when we learn this, and our protagonists have killed and assassinated multiple people. Taking a hit out on people really doesn’t seem to be that uncommon of a thing in hell.

Even the next scene after the reveal that Stella is the one who hired Striker makes light of how serious this is, by showing that Stella was basically yelling her assassination plot right to Stolas’ face.

This is played for laughs! I genuinely am not sure if the writers intended for this to be foreshadowing of Stella’s abuse or not because if so, they turned her attempting to kill her husband into a joke!

If you cannot keep your themes or tone consistent, how is the audience supposed to follow your story?

There is subtle storytelling, and then there’s tacking information and character points later on in your writing. And this can have two causes.

Either your audience has to do the work of story-telling for you and make up their own reasons for what’s happening to make the story coherent OR they will be disappointed and dissatisfied by the final product.

I think that’s the main reason why S2E1 of Helluva Boss felt so jarring story-wise, and why Stella, to me at least, suddenly felt like a brand new character.

Like I haven’t been this confused by a character being suddenly evil since Hans from Frozen.

(like seriously why the hell did they put this scene in if not to just trick the audience. This isn’t giving us any plot info it’s only giving us contradictory info on his character. Like I talked about before, Hans’ heel-face-turn doesn’t feel like a twist. It feels like a lie.)

Okay so, how does any of this actually affect anything? Who cares if Stella is evil, that doesn’t automatically make the story bad!

Well. Yeah, of course not. Ironically, having the main conflict your story being a battle between “Good v. Bad” characters is neither good nor bad. It’s just a story decision. And ultimately at the end of the day, the writers of Helluva Boss can choose to tell their story however they’d like.

But, depending on how this is executed, good v evil stories can be a lot less interesting than morally grey or complicated conflicts and characters.

I am more interested in the version of the story where Stella and Stolas are imperfect and messy people. I am more interested in the story where Stolas has an affair to escape being in an arranged marriage, and Stella overreacts by arranging a hit on her husband (unless calling out a hit is normal in hell, but we can’t know b/c there is no baseline for what is considered normal in hell)

I am so much more interested in the story where Stolas and Stella are both depicted as being in the wrong, as being incredibly hurt by each other’s actions, and as not knowing how to repair their broken relationship for the sake of their daughter.

That story feels very real to me. It’s one I want to engage and invest in.

I want to see if these characters can grow to accept their mistakes and learn and change for the sake of Octavia and having to co-exist with each other, or if they’ll slip back into mutual destruction and toxicity.

But that’s not the story we’ll get to see, because it seems like the writers are more interested in keeping Stolas from having to grow as a character. And because of that, Stella has been turned into an evil obstacle that must be defeated, instead of a nuanced and real person.

I also feel like I have to say. I know I would be MUCH less frustrated by this if I hadn’t seen an HB crew member talking about how their show is similar to Bojack Horseman.

Because. It’s just not. I’m sorry, I’m not saying that to be mean, or condescending, or rude, but the way characters are written in Helluva Boss is almost completely black and white at this point.

Regardless of the writer’s intent, the vast majority of the choices they have made in Season 2 come off as explanations to excuse the protagonist’s mistakes, and give them a “get out of being potentially in the wrong” free card.

Compared to the writing decisions in Bojack, which almost always has characters confront their wrongdoings, for better or worse, HB honestly feels like it’s the Anti-Bojack.

It would take a TON of character development and time to make HB’s characters as interesting, fleshed-out, and as real as Bojack’s are, and at this point that’s I don’t think it will ever happen.

Again. Having black and white conflict is FINE. It is a choice in story telling that can be done very effectively. But if you are making a black and white story where one side is always terrible and evil, and one side can do no wrong, you can’t act like you’ve written something that is deeper and more emotionally complex and grey than that.

And the first time the writers gave Stella more than 3 sentences to string together, they made it very clear that any chance of her being a more complex and engaging character was being tossed out the window.

————

TLDR:

The main reason people are upset about Stella being shown as abusive in S2E1 of HB is probably because the initial depictions of her didn’t give us enough information on her character to tell that she was just evil/a terrible person.

The way the story was written in S1 to set up the possibility of a very interesting and complex conflict between Stella and Stolas, and when it was revealed that she’s just. The worst. There were people that were disappointed by this, because they expected more.

Audiences actually aren’t idiots, and when you subtly foreshadow something and then completely change things, that can be frustrating.

It’s MORE than okay to write a straightforward good v evil story, but it depending on the way it’s written and executed, it may not be as interesting to mature audiences as a more morally grey story would be.

If you can’t write characters confronting their flaws and being in the wrong, please don’t compare your writing to Bojack, I mean. C’mon.

#helluva boss critical #helluva boss critique #character critique #stella goetia #hb stella #helluva boss stella #media conversation #media critique #media criticism #writing female characters #writing critique #writing #funhouse convo

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thejujvtsupost · 3 months

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Smitten: The First Date

It’s been way too long since I’ve updated this series and I have so many ideas for them coming up. Lmk if you wanna be added to the series taglist!

Notes: F!reader, first official date, anxiety and jitters, fluff. Just really fluffy.

“Satoru you’re already running late, I’ll be okay here.”

“The kids will understand. Do you want another blanket?” Gojo’s class started three minutes ago and he refused to leave his office until he was sure you were set.

You’d been taking up the couch in his office during the day for the last few weeks, it soothed some of Gojo’s anxiety about leaving you alone now that his energy was rubbing off on you.

You nodded your head and Gojo draped another throw over your body. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too much longer before your leg healed so you could freely walk; maybe then your boyfriend would relax. (Unlikely) “The kids rely on their teacher to be on time, but thank you. We should bring in a space heater tomorrow, how did you get by without having one in here so far?”

“You’re always cold, and it’s not that bad usually but I don’t spend much time in here; too lonely. You know I’m not far and text me if you need anything at all. I’ll see you for lunch?”

“Go be a teacher before Yaga decides to hire someone with better attendance please.”

“Kiss first!” He exclaimed and kissed your lips before pulling away with a ‘mwah!’ sound, leaving you laughing at his cartoonish display.

You just shook your head at him while reigning yourself in, “I’ll be here when you’re done.”

“Are you sure about this, Kugisake? It looks like a lot with the flowers on the table too.”

“Girls love surprises, Sensei. Last time Fushiguro poked his head in she was asleep, this is literally the perfect time.” Nobara was putting the finishing touches on the makeshift dining table, while Yuuji and Megumi plated the food- something they took surprisingly seriously. Really they just wanted to impress you. “You should go get her before the food gets cold.”

Gojo followed the directions given to him by the 15 year old girl and took the short trip down the hall.

You were still sound asleep, and he heavily debated on postponing but the kids were indiscreetly spying on him. He couldn’t back out on it.

“Hey, baby, it’s time for lunch.” He knelt down to your level and rubbed your shoulder until you stirred- he hated waking you up. He hated it a little less when you gave him your half asleep smile.

“Lunch?” The coffee table was empty, usually he brought lunch with him.

“We’re actually going on a little mission, you and I. So up you go!”

“‘Toru! Crutches!” He had you in his arms and out of the room before you could even reach for them.

“Nope!” What did he mean no? How long was he going to carry you?

“Ta-da!” Apparently not long. Your boyfriend sat you in a chair and did jazz hands at the display in front of you- you put together then that it was a date. Your first date.

It was all arranged carefully and the food made your stomach grumble. “‘Toru this is wonderful! You didn’t have to do all this!”

“The kids helped, they’d kill me if I didn’t give partial credit.”

“I kinda figured since there’s three mysteriously floating heads spying on us in the doorway behind you.”

Gojo turned around, shooed them away with only some complaints, before closing the door and returned to your lunch date. “I know our relationship hasn’t evolved in the most traditional ways but I still wanted you to know that I care about the normal stuff too. A lot has been going on but I hadn’t even taken you out yet.”

“I wasn’t expecting anything-”

“I know,” Gojo sighed. “But I pulled you into a world you never knew existed and now you’re stuck with my baggage too. I think you’re doing great by the way, you haven’t even tried escaping.”

“Tried escaping- you’re ridiculous sometimes Satoru. Your world isn’t baggage, I know it can be cruel at times but it’s not all bad. It’s just a different experience, but I feel like I found my place with you all; I’ve never had that before…”

“You always have a place where I am, always.” His tone was serious enough to make your heart feel warm. Sometimes Gojo catches you off guard with how much he cares. His silliness is only one piece of the puzzle that is your boyfriend.

“Well I guess it’s good that I wanna be where you are, always.”

You both smiled at each other, and if you chose to ignore the sets of peeping eyes through the classroom window; then that was between you and the first years.

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Thinking about making a request? Check my bio and see if they’re open!

#smitten gojo #jjk x reader #reader insert #no use of y/n #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo fluff #gojo series #jujutsu kaisen #soulmates #soul bonds #jjk fluff #jjk fic #fluff #lots of fluff #gojo x you #gojo satoru

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hotchs-big-hands · 7 months

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ngl i would genuinely get off to making haley jealous and angry because of how fucking easy it is. my personal hc here but i think she was controlling and thought she had hotch wrapped around her finger and it infuriated her that his job was the only thing he refused to listen to her about. i also think she tried to baby trap him with jack in the assumption that would "fix" their marriage and when it only made it worse she blamed aaron for never being home when she easily couldve hired a nanny or regular babysitter so she could work or do whatever. i believe she cheated bc of that one phone call to their house when hotch answered and it was a random man asking for haley before hanging up and the look hotch gave her like yeah he knew she was fucking around too. i think it made her even angrier that when she filed for divorce hotch didnt even fight her onit! didnt ask to work things out or for counseling or anything. just "okay ill sign the papers when i get back from this case"

now assuming reader is mid twenties i think your very existence would have her enraged. aaron seems happier and even healthier. hes got more color in his face, hes put on some healthy weight, he smiles and laughs now, he takes more time off work, his life has clearly significantly improve since she left him and she cant fucking stand it. she thought she was the best thing that ever happened to him and now shes seeing in real time she's actually the worst thing ♥️♥️

and you thinks its funny as hell to watch a 40 year old woman with a whole ass kid be that bent out of fucking shape because the man SHE LEFT is fine without her. like yes maam i am younger than you, hotter than you, nicer than you AND i can ride the dick just right. stay pressed bitch 💕. and when she tries interfering in your relationship hotch asks you to put up with it just for a bit because he knows hack is still adjusting to coparenting and he wants the best for his son so you let him handle his exwife until she crosses a line and tries to accuse you of some shit and aaron finally puts his foot down and haley cant believe that shes really lost complete control over aaron (haha fuck you haley)

like i fantasize about a situation where haley is trying SOOOO hard to break yall up and drive a wedge between you two and it isnt until jacks birthday or some big family function aaron brought you too and haley cant help it but lowkey stalk yall all night and so youre like "aaron watch this" and you drag him off to some secluded corner and hes like ??? but you tell him "hold on baby give it a minute. bet you anything haley pops up" and then once you hear footsteps you give aaron a big fat smooch and surprise surprise!! whos coming around the corner? why its haleys stalker ass following you two like a creep!

i literally just want to cuck haleys pathetic ass because fuck her and her scraggly blonde hair and that nappy ass wig she had on in witness protection with her no-style-no-personality-all-about-me havin ass 😒😒😒😒

sorry this is such a convoluted mess i just hate that lady 😭😭

I NEEDN'T SAY MORE THIS IS EXACTLY MY THOTS I WANT THAT WOMAN SEEEETHING AT THE SIGHT OF AARON BEING HAPPY AND THRIVING. SHE WOULD ABSOLUTELY BE THE CRAZY EX WHO PROBABLY ENDS UP HARASSING YOU.

The SECOND she says smth nasty abt you Aaron is soooooo fucking pissed. She insults you saying you're just a whore sleeping with Aaron for his money (and cuz us babes are plus-size queens she HATES THAT) and that Aaron is not attracted to you.

And Aaron OOF he takes her to one side and tells her she is fucking nothing but the mother of his child now. That YOU are his everything. YOU make him the man he is now. He's fucking happy with you as the love of his life and that Haley made him chronically stressed and depressed and almost completely ruined his self esteem. He warns her to back the fuck off from him and reader. He does not want any communication with her unless it's to do with Jack. End of.

#cutie kenzie #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #💌 ah asks #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine

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magicamicitia · 29 days

Text

WARNING: Mentions of suicidal/intrusive thoughts.

Volume One, Chapter Two

“You’re not alone anymore.”

Beep.

Click!

Sunset Shimmer once again woke up to the sound of her alarm clock, and carried on with her morning routine as normal. However, the memories of the previous afternoon refused to leave her thoughts.

She was aware of the existence of magic in other worlds, but… This one wasn’t supposed to be one of them. So what’s up with all of this? Magical girls? Witches? A talking cat-with-bunny-ears freak? It was weirder than anything she’d ever seen in any other world. Apparently, humans like her weren’t supposed to be able to see witches like she did. Sunset figured her background as a magic interdimensional traveller could explain that abnormality.

Whatever this all meant, she hoped Twilight knew what she was doing.

“I have no idea what I’m doing!” Twilight Sparkle skipped nervously around her room.

“Don’t worry!” the small white creature, who referred to itself as ‘Kyubey’, carefully groomed its fur in a corner. “If you ever need any help, you can always ask me.”

Twilight couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

“Yeah, that’s real reassuring. The last time I asked for your help, You-“

Her train of thought was crudely interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Sweetie?” Her mother’s voice called. “Are you okay in there? You’re gonna be late if you don’t come out soon!”

“Shoot! I’d better get going!”

She left her home in a hurry as to avoid being late, despite her family’s attempts to tell her she still had twenty minutes until her usual time of departure. With a half-eaten sandwich in her hands and a trusty Kyubey over her shoulders, she was surely ready for another day as a high school student AND magical girl!

Huh?

Twilight Sparkle suddenly felt a strange weight on her chest. looking down at the soul gem ring on her finger, she noticed it emitted a strange glow.

“What’s all this now?”

“Your soul gem is reacting to magic,” kyubey answered. “There must be a witch nearby! We have to go after it!”

“NOW?! I can’t go after a witch NOW! I couldn’t even finish off the last one, and if I take too long fighting it… I’ll be…”

She gulped, terrified.

“…TARDY!!!”

“Twilight! You’re a magical girl now, the future of humanity relies on you battling witches!”

“I know, I know… But… Like, can’t you do it or something?”

“Unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do about witches in their physicial form. But once you defeat the witch, I can collect its grief seed and make sure it never comes back!”

“Ughhhh!!! Fine, I’ll do it, I’ll do it…”

Her soul gem’s magic led her to a beautiful hedge maze just outside an ancient history museum.

“Wow… this place looks so peaceful. Odd spot for a witch to make its lair.”

“You’re right, Twilight. Usually, witches will try to hatch in locations where they can collect the despair of nearby victims. But this maze is a total ghost town…”

“Well, then that must mean this one doesn’t feel like it needs any extra power, huh?”

“Yes. We’d better get ready; we’re about to enter the labyrinth, quite literally.”

As Twilight moved towards the center of the maze, she could feel reality around her become more and more distorted. But she noticed a strange consistency among the chaos.

“These patterns… these creatures… This is the same witch from yesterday!”

Kyubey backed up against Twilight’s legs, looking for refuge. “Looks like we got real lucky then. If we had decided to fight it then, with a human tagging along, things would have gotten real dangerous.”

Twilight spared no time - casting her magical power, she transformed into her magical girl self and barged through the horde of familiars with her shield. The familiars, however, laughed at her futile attempts. Their torn bodies sewed themselves back together to take on another form.

“P…Principal Celestia…?” Twilight felt an enourmous weight fall onto her shoulders.

“Twilight Sparkle,” said the mirage. “What are you doing here, when you should be at school? You used to be such a good student…”

“U-Used to be? No, no, I still am! In fact, I was on my way back-“

“It’s too late for that now. You’ve already been expelled from Crystal Prep, do you want me to expel you from Canterlot High as well? That won’t look good on your records.”

“No! I wasn’t expelled! Candace just thought it would be better for me if…”

Her legs were shaking.

“I… I’m… You’re not supposed to be here!”

Mustering up her strength, Twilight attacked the illusion of Celestia with everything she had. The familiars, however, simply dissolved themselves while laughing, leaving Twilight to fall to the ground, crying and defeated.

“What’s happening… Why am I… So weak…?”

The laughter around her turned to chants.

“End it!”

“What good is a magical girl who can’t fight a witch?”

“End it!”

“Give up your soul gem and feed us!”

“End it!”

Her vision was starting to get blurry. Why did she accept this awful offer in the first place?! She didn’t have what it took to be a magical girl at all!

Oh,

That’s right…

The reason was…

“Hold on tight, sugarcube!”

From the skies, a mysterious sillhouette came down to Twilight’s aid. Once it landed, she was surprised to see another magical girl, just like her!

Well, maybe her clothes were a little different. Very country. And instead of a shield, this girl took out five mint-condition flintlock muskets from her stylish cowboy hat. With the aim and confidence of a professional, she took down the monsters without missing a single shot. Then, she whipped her hair around, adjusted her hat, and turned to a baffled Twilight on the ground.

She smiled and reached out her hand.

“You alright over there?”

Before she could even say anything, four other girls made their way to Twilight and the mysterious magical girl.

“AJ, no fair! You said this one was mine!” A feisty girl with rainbow-colored hair rushed in first, clearly very upset.

“Oh, darling, please, that was clearly not the witch. You’re making a scene for no reason.” Added a purple-haired girl dressed in gorgeous modern-victorian couture.

“Wait,” said the multicolor girl. “Who’s that one over there?”

“I-I’m… Twilight… Twilight Sparkle…” She clumsily adjusted her glasses and got up.

“Pleasure to meet ya, Twilight.” The girl with the muskets smiled. “Name’s applejack.”

“I’m Rainbow Dash!” the spunky girl added.

“My name is Rarity, but you may call me Miss Rarity if you’re a fan.”

“Oh, I’ve heard your name before! You’re like, a prodigy star of the design world, right?”

“You’re quite right, darling! And those two over there are Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy.”

“W…Woah… So, you’re all magical girls…?”

“ALMOST all of us. Flutter can’t seem to come up with a wish, so we just drag her along as moral support.” Rainbow Dash cut in with a sarcastic tone.

“Rainbow, don’t say that!” Applejack reprimanded. “Don’t you worry, sugarcube. I know how scary it is to fight them mean witches all by yourself, but you’re not alone in this no more. We got your back!”

#magicamicitia #mlpmagicami #mlp au #pmmm au

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levenlike11 · 8 months

Text

tsukishima seemed like he hated your guts. you had no idea why he did, but he acted kinder even to kageyama than he did with you. he was trying to ignore your existence all day everyday, also in every practice or during the school. he even refused to take any towels or water bottles from you if you offer him any since you're the manager of the team. you saw yamaguchi ask him why he's acting such a way with you many times but you never saw him reply, he usually just shook his head towards him and closed the topic. this became more and more disturbing as time went on because you had to communicate with him in order to help the team but he quite literally acted like he didn't want to see your face for another second.

"what are you guys talking about?" you asked when you saw hinata jumping up and down with nishinoya, too happy about something that they're talking about.

"we were planning to see this new movie coming out on the cinema tomorrow after the game if we win it as a celebration! you should also come with us, it's also your and kiyoko's effort as much as ours!" hinata said as pulled you and her towards the group.

"i'd love to, you all deserve a break after working so hard!" you smiled and hinata hugged your side tightly after hearing your answer. as for tsukishima, he didn't even feel the need to hide his discomfort. you could see his face drop from where you are very clearly after you said you'd be there. you stopped wanting to care a long while ago, but it still hurt everytime he behaved so horribly with you.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

expectedly, karasuno won their match with a great score, they topped off the amazing season they had this year with this victory. you also changed and waited until everyone was no longer sweaty or in their uniforms, and then left with the team and kiyoko to see the movie.

first you saw yamaguchi trying to speak to tsukishima, and then yamaguchi looking at you, and then back at kei. you didn't understand what it was all about but you didn't want to ask since you were sitting so far away from them in the table you decided to eat dinner before the movie.

a few minutes later, you saw hinata analyzing your face as you ate your dinner. "is there something on my face?" you turned to kiyoko and asked.

"not anything i can see." she gave you a weird look. "why?"

"why does that end of the table keep staring at me then?" you mumbled under your breath and tried to ignore them while munching on your remaining meal.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

it was either fate, or hinata and yamaguchi's doing that you somehow became seated next to kei in the movie. they probably just wanted you to start getting along with him but you hoped that they realize you didn't get along with him *because of him, not you! you tried your best for months, and he has only responded with a few rude looks or just once, mostly twice, disrespectful remarks to you.

just as you were about to ask someone to switch their seats with you, the movie's intro started rolling on the screen and the lights turned off. you sat there, unhappy with your positioning until after the break of the cinema. not exactly sure when, but sometime near the end, you got very bored of the movie playing in front of you and fell asleep.

that was fine for a while. that is, until you decided to turn around and put your head on kei's shoulder, not knowing it was him. if you weren't so tired and in need of sleep, you would have woken up by how much your action startled him. he probably knew how much you needed that sleep too, so he didn't move or tell you to wake up and lift your head. you slept peacefully until the end of the movie when the lights turned back on. when you realized whose shoulder your head was on, you quickly lifted your head up and apologized.

"i'm so sorry tsukishima, why didn't you wake me up or move my head? you must've felt uncomfortable." you pouted. why were you still thinking about how he felt when he's been nothing near polite to you for the whole semester?

"it's fine, i didn't mind it. i knew you were really tired so i didn't want to wake you up, i wasn't uncomfortable." he answered quietly, surprising you.

"thank you, i'm sorry again, if i made you uncomfortable. is your arm okay? i think my head is kind of heavy..."

"yeah, my arm's fine. and no, your head's not heavy." you smiled at his answer, which seemed like it made him blush. (you chose not to comment on it though.)

neither of you spoke for a while and you just watched the others talk about how good the ending of the movie was. "your hair smells nice." he broke the silence with his comment.

"thanks! it's the shampoo from -brand name-." you smiled, and you didn't talk to him any more that night afterwards. he only smiled back at you, which was probably the kindest thing he had ever been towards you, and you both went on with your own days. if you paid more attention to what was happening behind you, you would see hinata and yamaguchi nudging the others to look at your interaction after trying so hard to get you guys to talk properly.

although if you had been rewarded with a chance to see the future months ago, you would have fallen asleep on his shoulder way back then.

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thehomeofplatonicfics · 2 months

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Curiosity Killed the Cat

MC!Reader x Sebastian Sallow (platonic!)

Sebastian was definitely keeping a wide berth from you, you knew this much. What you didn’t know was why. He had been trying to sort out all his dark thoughts, his tumultuous feelings, the guilt of what happened to his uncle and losing Anne, possibly forever. You had done so much for him, he had realised this now. However, you had your own troubles and burdens; the loss of your dear Professor Fig, and well, the entire battle against Ranrok in general. He thought you certainly wouldn’t have time for his emotional problems too. Especially, after how he had treated you in the weeks leading up to those tragic events. He realised how selfish he had been and thought staying away from you would be helpful.

It was driving you absolutely crazy. The fact that the boy you’d given everything to would just now walk by with just a glance and a curt nod. It was worse than anything. More than once, you found yourself tempted to cast a basic cast (or even a confringo) at him just to get him to respond to you, react in some way to your existence.

In the weeks leading up to the end of term, you realised that without Professor Fig, you now didn’t really have anywhere to go once the Summer holidays arrived. You certainly couldn’t go back to the muggle orphanage. Originally, you had been planning to ask Sebastian and Anne if they’d speak to their uncle Solomon, about letting you stay… but clearly that wasn’t going to work anymore. You couldn’t ask Ominis, because he was trying to escape his family, and Poppy had her own issues with family. You thought of then asking Natty, but after she had literally taken a cruciatus curse for you, you weren’t quite convinced that Professor Onai would be willing to have the living, breathing reminder of it staying with them for the whole summer.

So, who had been left? In the end, you plucked up the courage to ask Imelda Reyes. Shockingly, the Quidditch obsessed witch had warmed up to you and had agreed, but only under the strict pretence that you would have to fly together a lot and let Imelda practise Quidditch as much as she pleased with you.

Of course, you felt you had no choice but to agree. However, in between these flying practices, you were finding yourself bored, restless and still thinking endlessly of Sebastian, of Ominis and Professor Fig. You needed something to do, desperately. So, one evening you had pulled out the old familiar field guide that Professor Weasley had given you at the start of your fifth year, and you decided to set a quest for yourself; specifically, to complete all the Merlin trials before the start of your sixth year.

It started out as a fun little distraction, but as the weeks drew on it became more and more like a desperate obsession. Sometimes, you’d spend hours trying to solve them, refusing to eat, drink or rest until you had solved that particular trial. You were slowly but surely running yourself ragged over these damn trials.

It didn’t take long for Imelda to be concerned after your flying times started slowing down, and Imelda being Imelda, she certainly didn’t hesitate to call you out on it. More than once she had uttered, “You look awful, Y/N.”

On this particular day, you planned to solve two Merlin trials that were close to Feldcroft. They were too close for your liking to the village Sebastian grew up in, and you had been wanting to avoid it for a long time, but at this point you just couldn’t help yourself. You had to solve them. You had to solve them all.

Meanwhile, Sebastian was sat outside on the grass by his house, reading a book. He looked up to notice the familiar outline of you flying on your thestral overhead, looking positively wild. Curiosity and concern piqued, he closed his book and decided to try and follow you. It took him a while to track down your trail, only having the vague idea of what direction you were going in, and he sighed in relief when he saw the thestral hoofprints that soon evolved into your familiar steps.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he saw you, but he certainly wasn’t anticipating the scene he found. You sat there on the stony cobblestones of the Merlin trial, almost in tears and muttering to yourself. “Where are you?” You frantically whispered, as you started rapidly casting confringo and incendio at literally everything. “There must be another! Why aren’t you working?” You muttered again, growling in frustration.

You stood up to turn and cast confringo once again, as you heard something behind you, but before you cast, you gasped in shock and your wand fell from your hand, clattering onto the cobblestone. Both of you stood there, staring at each other, neither of you sure what to say.

The longer you both stood there in silence, the deeper Sebastian’s brow furrowed in deep concern as he looked you over. “You look awful.” His words echoed in your mind like he was Imelda’s parrot.

“Thanks very much, you don’t look so great yourself.” You retorted, sighing slightly, his words affecting you more than you’d care to admit.

An awkward silence passed between you. “Why are you here?” Sebastian asked, stepping forward. “Why are you here?” You countered defensively, taking a subtle step back. “Saw you flying overhead, got curious.” Sebastian replied nonchalantly, shrugging slightly.

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

As soon as you said it, you outwardly cringed, feeling like it was very inappropriate in the circumstances. Your flushed face looked around for an escape.

“I’m sorry, that was-” “No, it’s okay.” You tried to apologise, but Sebastian cut in before you could finish. Another awkward pause ensued.

“You didn’t answer my question. Why are you in Feldcroft? Shouldn’t you be back at home or wherever.” You kicked the ground with your shoe as you tried to think of a response, stammering slightly. “I can’t go back. Was going to stay with Fig, but obviously that didn’t work out.” You forced an awkward laugh, burying a sob that threatened to surface. “I’m staying with- well, it isn’t important. I’ll be out of your hair soon enough.” You turned away from him, considering the conversation over.

“You’re trying to solve the Merlin trial, aren’t you?” Sebastian said it as more of a statement rather than a question, as if he already knew the answer. You raised an eyebrow, feeling as if he somehow knew what you had been up to this whole time. “Yes, I am. Trying to, anyway. This one is impossible!” You paused, looking at Sebastian’s face with suspicion. “You don’t seem very surprised.”

Sebastian sighed, running a hand through his hair, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before he replied. “That’s because I'm not. Ominis has been writing to me the whole summer with updates about various… things.” At this he paused, a small, sly smirk appearing on his face. “He told me that he’s heard about several sightings of the Hero of Hogwarts-” “Don’t call me that.” You interrupted him, muttering under your breath as you grit your teeth, your face contorting with disgust at that name. “Okay… sightings of a certain person flying around the Scottish highlands and mysterious ivy arches appearing in your wake.”

You turned back completely to face him fully, your mouth gaping open, your shoulders slumping down. “Recently his letters have been sounding more concerned. People are worried about you.” Sebastian sighed loudly, restarting his sentence. “I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be, I’m fine. Just passing the time, that’s all.” You replied, a little more hostile than you had intended. Sebastian shook his head, reaching for you as you stepped back. “Why are you doing this, Y/N?” Sebastian stepped toward you again. “Why not?” You retorted, your voice raising slightly.

“You’re taking it too far, Y/N. It has become an obsession. It has got to stop.” He pleaded with you. “You hypocrite! This is harmless!” You cried out, shaking your head in disbelief, “You’d know all about taking things too far, wouldn’t you?!” He stopped, shaking his head with a grim expression, knowing that he probably deserved that comment.

“What happens when you’ve finished all of them, Y/N? What then?”

A heavy silence passed between you. You suddenly sat back down on the ground, completely stunned by the question as if you had just taken a stupefy to the chest. In all this time, you hadn’t actually thought about it. You presumed it would take the whole school holiday, but you only had eight trials left to go, and three weeks to do them in. You’d be done, for sure, before then.

“I don’t know.” Your voice sounded small and strangled, as you looked up to the sky which was beginning to darken for the evening. “I have to solve them. I just know I have to.”

At that moment, Sebastian spotted the missing fire pillar that you’d been so fervently seeking. “It’s over there.” He pointed to it in defeat. You immediately threw powerful confringo spells at all the pillars. The arch reveals itself and you sighed in immense relief, finally smiling.

Sebastian smiled along with you. “That’s very satisfying.” He admitted. “It is, for a few seconds. Then I feel empty, hollow, and craving more.”

“So, you look for the next one to find that joy for a few more seconds.” Sebastian shook his head. “That’s a slippery slope you are on, Y/N.”

“I know.” You stared up at the sky, doing anything to avoid looking at him.

“Come back with me, it is getting dark.” Sebastian offered, turning around and walking away, not looking back to see if you were following him or not. For whatever reason, you found yourself silently following him back into Feldcroft. He could hear your footsteps behind him, but chose not to say anything.

As you gingerly stepped through the front door of the familiar house, you immediately felt the intense pang of a bizarre mix of guilt, nostalgia and longing. It was strange to walk in and not see Solomon pottering about, to not see Anne sat on her chair or her bed. “Do sit down.” Sebastian offered, and you hesitated, looking between your remaining options. Instinctively, you avoided Anne’s usual seats.

A cup of tea and an apple was thrusted under your face. “Eat. Drink.” Sebastian practically commanded, the undertone betrayed his deep concern. You looked up at him quizzically. “You look like you need something sweet. I know you like them.”

You tried to smile, but it fell rather flat. As you sat and nourished yourself in silence, a heavy oppressive feeling sat on your chest. “How can you stand it?” You blurted out suddenly, turning to look at Sebastian. He raised an eyebrow, inviting you to elaborate. “Being in this house, alone, I mean.”

Sebastian simply shrugged, moving to lean on the kitchen countertop. “Because I have no choice. These were my actions, and now I must suffer the consequences. I learnt the hard way that some things just cannot be changed.”

“I don’t think I could do that.” “Do what?” “That.” You vaguely gestured at him. He chuckled. “It seems after everything, I still have new things to teach my charge.” A smile and small blush appeared on your face as you thought back to your first trip with him to Hogsmeade. “Ah, there’s the elusive smile I’ve been looking for.” “Stop it, Sebastian.” You smiled despite your words.

The atmosphere already felt a little lighter and a weight felt like it had finally been released from your shoulders. This. This feeling is what you’d been searching for all summer. Sebastian gave a soft smile, kneeling down so that he was eye-level with you. “Y/N, I promise to solve the rest of them with you, together. I want to turn this all into a positive memory for you.”

You wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug. He gasps slightly, surprised by the motion, before he returned it. “You already have, Sebastian.”

#sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy x reader #platonic reader insert #hogwarts legacy reader insert #hogwarts legacy imagine #sebastian sallow imagine #sebastian sallow reader insert #sebastian x reader

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