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#I don’t know if I should feel sorry yet.
thegettingbyp2 · 1 day
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Hello! New to your account but i love your spencer reid x reader!!! 💕
Saw ur requests are open so im grabbing this opportunity to request a jealous spencer reid hehe something like they’ve been friends and then something happened, jealous!spencer appears lmao idk how to explain things lol
Thank you tho! Love lots!
The Way I Love You
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Spencer Reid wasn’t someone who inherently hated anybody. But he hated your boyfriend. At first, he thought that it was because the two of you had been best friends for so long, he was the only person you fully confided in, and then you met James and, all of a sudden, everything changed. You’d spend more time with him and then you’d go and see a film that Spencer thought the two of you were going to see together. However, it really clicked for him the first time he saw you kiss him.
Spencer Reid was in love with you. And he hated that James plucked up the courage to ask you out first.
However, the longer you were with James, the more Spencer could see just how one-sided your relationship with him was. More and more, you’d come into work disheartened because he’d cancelled yet another date night and then whenever you’d bring him to the infamous dinners at Rossi’s, you’d be the one trying to sit with him only for him to find an excuse to wander away. It broke Spencer’s heart to see you quickly shake off the feeling of disappointment to follow him, and how you’d be glowing with happiness as soon as he showed you the slightest bit of affection.
It was when you came into the office for the fifth day in a row, with your eyes red-rimmed, that he felt all of the anger and jealousy he’d been feeling for the entirety of yours and James’ relationship bubble over the top.
‘He cancelled again, didn’t he?’ Spencer asked when you sat at your desk next to him, not really needing an answer.
‘Just drop it, Spence,’ you replied, sounding exhausted.
‘What was his excuse this time? Couldn’t be bothered? Too tired?’
‘Spence, please.’
‘When are you going to see that he’s only around when he wants to be, (Y/N)? That he only wants you, uses you when he wants to get his dick wet!’ Spencer’s voice had risen as he spoke and the volume of his voice paired with what he said caused your eyes to widen and to be thankful that the two of you were the only ones in the office at the moment. You’d been friends with Spencer for 7 years and not once had you heard him speak like that.
Not knowing how to respond, all you could think to do was to get up and leave the room. You heard Spencer call out your name as he got up from his own seat to follow you but you refused to turn around. The only thing that stopped you was Spencer’s fingers wrapping around your wrist, pulling you to a halt. ‘How could you say that?’ you asked, your voice a barely there whisper as tears filled your eyes when you looked up at Spencer. His eyes softened and he tugged you into him slightly closer.
‘(Y/N), I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I just hate seeing you accept the way he treats you. You don’t deserve to be with someone who loves you like he does. His love’s like a disease, (Y/N), and if you let it carry on for much longer then you won’t be able to step back and you’ll be stuck with him.’
‘Yeah? If he doesn’t love me the right way, what is the right way someone should love me?’ you asked, lowering your eyes, not wanting to get your hopes up.
‘You should be loved by someone who loves you the way I love you,’ he blurted out and your head shot up to look at him. ‘You should be loved by someone who knows how lucky they are to be loved by you. Someone who would bring you flowers just because he saw them and thought of you. Someone who wants to be around you all the time, even if it’s just to sit in the living room together and watch TV and - ’
Spencer’s words were cut off when you stepped closer to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face into his shoulder as you felt a few stray tears fall from your eyes. As he had been speaking, you’d realised that not only did you want a love like that, you wanted a love like that with Spencer and you felt yourself relax when his arms wrapped back around you like a vice.
‘Ask me,’ you said, your voice muffled by the fabric of his cardigan.
‘What?’ Spencer asked, wanting to be sure of what you were asking of him in order to avoid making a fool of himself.
‘Ask me what you want to ask me?’ you repeated, pulling back slightly to look at him, a small smile playing on your lips.
‘Leave him? Go on a date with me?’ Spencer asked shyly, knowing that what he was asking of you was a lot.
In response, you reached up on your toes and pressed your lips gently to his. ‘Consider him left,’ you said against his lips, making him sigh happily against you as he deepened the kiss.
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The Locket
You and Spencer had been working together forever, had known each-other so long you felt closer to him than your own relatives. You knew you loved him, he knew he loved you; so what was the problem?
The problem was neither of you guys were brave enough to say it out loud, afraid the other might not reciprocate.
Whenever Hotch gave orders you always made sure to pair up with him, whenever the team was laughing he was the first person you would look at. You always had your mind on him. So when Hotch needed you to pick a person to find an old file with you, you jumped at the opportunity to spend time with Spencer alone.
“Hey y/n, so we’re looking for the Booker case?” Spencer said as you were walking down the hall into the filing room.
“Yup, the ‘67 one. That’s if we can find it though.” You laugh wryly and Spencer gives you a tight lipped smile in response.
You walk into the room and he shuts the door behind you, Spencer immediately goes to find the shelves that hold the cases from the 60’s (not sure if that’s how the FBI actually organizes it but just go with it). You just watched as his beautiful hands gloss over the labels, his shiny brown hair falling over his eyes.
“Well I think this is going to be harder than I thought. I can’t find it I…I don’t know where else it would be.” He said.
“We’ll find it, its gotta be somewhere here. Maybe it was labelled wrong?” You got a light “hmph” from Spencer. You continued looking.
It had been almost an hour and a half of looking through old boxes. Files were scattered all over the floor and you were starting to get tired and overwhelmed, you could tell Spencer was getting frustrated.
“This is dumb and I’m getting coffee, want something?” You asked.
“No that’s okay, no one gets my copious amounts of sugar right.” He laughes then rubs his eyes and continues pouring over files.
You kept looking, taking occasional breaks and having deep conversations ranging anywhere from star trek to is-there-a-god?
He loved talking to you
You came back ten minutes later with two cups in your hand, one for you and one for Spencer.
“Here.” You hand it to him. “I made sure to fill the cup with sugar before the coffee, should be enough. I really hope it is because if it isn’t you are insane and need help.” You joke as he takes a sip and laughs.
“Perfect.”
“Good.”
A heavy silence filled the room, not awkward or unwelcome but peaceful; just enjoying each others company.
You continued search for another thirty minutes, and still nothing. You were about to give up and leave when Spencer started to speak.
“I like your locket.”
“Huh-oh! Thanks, sorry. Just a bit zoned out.”
“who’s inside it?”
“sorry?”
“who’s photo is in your locket”
“Oh no one’s yet, I just wear it because I think it looks pretty” You say
Theres a pause as you stand up and scour the last shelf to check.
“Wait I found it! Someone put it in the 90’s shelf with double homicides, idiot.”
You go to open the door and give to Hotch but a voice stopped you dead in your tracks.
“Can you put me in your locket?”
huh?
“Uhm, sure…Can I ask why?”
Another pause. You think you’re not getting an answer so you turn again but Spencer finally continues.
“Because I love you.”
Oh?
“Wait you..sorry? I-I don’t understand I..”
“I love you y/n, I’m just sorry I didn’t say it earlier”
The next thing you know your lips are crashing onto his, his hands trail up to your h/l, h/c hair. Your hands start to explore as you trace the hemline of his shirt, one of his hands lowers to hold your hip. The kiss gets more passionate and you can’t help but feel like you’re dazed, in a REM like phase.
You pull away but he goes right back for another kiss. This one was different, more sincere. No trace of desperation or lust, just love. Pure love and admiration.
You both stop and look at each other.
“Do you know how long i’ve wanted to do that?” Spencer says, a little out of breath.
“Maybe. I’d assume probably the same amount of time I’ve been waiting too.”
You smile and he laughs.
“We should really get these to Hotch.” You say with a deep blush on your face and swollen lips.
“Sure”
You gave the file to Hotch, he gives you his thanks for finally finding the missing papers. Spencer is waiting for you outside his office.
“I know what happened what cut short but, do you maybe want to go for a walk or something after work? I know a really good ice cream place…” He suggests.
“I’d love that. Thank you Spence.”
“Don’t thank me, I’ve always wanted to.”
Always wanted to.
The next day you printed out a photo of you and Spencer and the aforementioned “really good ice cream place”, and put it in your locket.
The End.
Authors Note:
Ok guys first story how do we feel..? i def didn’t proof read this so if it’s ass just know i dont even know what happened either lmao
idrk if i like it or nah but lmk if you have any ideas or requests :)
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mirage-aera · 2 days
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•°. *࿐ Sick days || JH86
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ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Love Lost - Mac Miller, The Temper Trap
Synopsis: Sick days usually aren’t fun. Especially for Jack. He hates them. But you somehow always make it better.
Word count: 1.401
Masterlist
Am I watching the canucks game while writing this? Yes, and stressing over it
When they said that men are always the most dramatic when they catch the common cold, you didn’t believe them. You thought it was an exaggeration. But the way Jack has been acting the past three days? Yeah, it’s not an exaggeration. You’re both curing his cold while nursing your own headache. One that’s been a product of his whining. This man is acting as if he’s on his deathbed, a damsel in distress, a whiny little-. You love him, but you wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of sedating him for a day so that you could get some peace and quiet. You would like to know how Ellen handled him whenever he got sick. It’s almost unbearable.
“Babyyy?”
“Am I dying? It feels like I’m dying.”
“Everything hurts…”
“More medicine? I don’t need it. It’s disgusting.”
“Can you please get me a painkiller? I do need it…”
The need to hit him with a pan to knock him out for a few hours is concerningly high. You’re trying to be patient with him. He’s not feeling well, and not being active, those are things that he hates and you know that. You’re really trying to be patient with him. However, he makes it very hard to when he’s whining every other minute.
You hide yourself in the kitchen to make sure Jack will leave you alone for a minute. You absentmindedly stir canned chicken soup in a small pan. When it starts smoking you take it off the heat and grab a bowl. You pour the soup into the bowl and grab a spoon. You carefully walk to your bedroom with the bowl, a bottle of water, and a pill. You open the door a little wider and walk up to him. He sniffles but manages to crack out a small smile. “There you are. I missed you.” He says softly, making your heart melt. Sick as ever and he still manages to make butterflies flutter. “I was only gone for a minute.” You say gently as you place the bottle and pill on his nightstand. You hold out the bowl of soup. He grimaces at the sight of it. You give him a stern look. “You need to eat something. Otherwise, you won’t get better. And make sure you take a pill after or while you eat.” You can’t help but fuss over him a bit.
He groans in response but takes the bowl from you. He starts eating at a slow pace. You sit by his bedside and watch him eat. Pale, sweaty face, hair pointing in all sorts of directions, and yet he still is so handsome to you. He notices that you’re staring and glances at you. He lets out a raspy chuckle. “There’s nothing noteworthy to stare at right now.” You smile and move his hair out of his face. It’s starting to become a little long again. “There’s plenty to stare at. You’ll always be pretty in my eyes.” His eyes shine at your comment. “Pretty?” He asks with amusement in his voice. You roll your eyes but can’t help but let a grin creep up your face. “Sorry. Handsome.” He smiles triumphantly. “That’s what I thought.”
He soon finishes his bowl of soup. You take it from him and set it aside. You hand him the bottle of water and the small white pill. He takes it from you. You notice how clammy his hands are. You frown as you watch him down the pill followed by big gulps of water. You place the back of your hand against his forehead. Your frown deepens when you feel how warm he still is. He knows better than to fight you back so he lets you do your thing. “Your fever is not letting up. You should get some more rest. That might help.” You say softly. He nods and slides underneath the blankets. He pulls it up to his chin. You gently run a hand through his hair. “I’ll be in the living room. Just holler if you need me.” You say softly. Although, you’re secretly hoping he’ll sleep for a couple of hours. For both of your sakes. “Alright.” He croaks before shutting his eyes. You watch over him until you’re sure he’s fallen asleep. You get up carefully and make your way to the living room.
***
Time passes by quickly when you’re finally able to relax. You check the time on your phone only to realize Jack has been sleeping for a while now. You get up from the couch and quietly walk back towards your bedroom. You peek your head in only to see Jack snoring away without a care in the world. You smile at the sight, happy that he’s getting some rest. You realize that the blanket has slipped down a little. You carefully walk up to him and tuck him back in. You tuck the sides underneath him. Tightly wrapping him up in the blanket. He looks like a burrito. A 5’11 burrito.
You step back and take in the sight. You let out a quiet snicker. You pull out your phone and take a picture. Saving that for later. You look at him one more time before leaving the room and going back to the couch. You throw yourself down onto the couch and look at the picture you’ve taken. You snort. Jack’s going to kill you for sure once he finds out. You send it to the Hughes brothers group chat that Jack has ever so kindly thrown you into.
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Another hour passes as you’re peacefully watching something on the television. You laugh at the conversation going on in the group chat. You hear some rustling from the bedroom. You’re about to get up when you hear a hoarse holler. “Baby!” You chuckle, “yeah bub?” He lets out a loud groan. “You did not send that picture in the group chat!” You let out a laugh and make your way towards him. You snicker when you see his phone in his hand. The group chat is still open. “I did. It was way too hilarious to pass up. You were like a burrito. Or should I say a Jackrito? One of a kind.” He pouts at you. “Really? A Jackrito? Was that necessary?” He asks, almost offended by your shenanigans. You snicker. “Yes. It’s funny.” He crosses his arms and huffs. “I don’t find you very amusing right now.” He retorts before he gets into a coughing fit. You pat his back, helping him through it. “You’ll find it amusing when you get better.” He glares at you and shakes his head. He stops coughing. “You’re still in trouble. Don’t forget that, because I certainly won’t.” You let out a snort. “Whatever you say bub.” You look at him affectionately. You suddenly get a great idea. “I should send the picture to your mom.” His eyes widen at what you said. “No!” He exclaims. You burst out into laughter. He huffs and pulls the blanket over him. “I’m glad you are having fun while I’m dying.” You roll your eyes. “Now you’re being dramatic again. For the millionth time, you are not dying Jack. You simply have the common cold.” He lets out a raspy chuckle. He lifts the blanket slightly and pulls you into him. He covers you both with the blanket. “It feels like I’m dying, especially when you aren’t around.” You can’t help but smile at that, despite his theatrics. You can feel yourself getting tired. Even though it isn’t that late yet. The warmth he’s emitting is so comforting. You let yourself fall asleep in his arms.
***
A week later he’s back on his feet. But he transferred his germs to you. You’re as sick as a dog. He walks into your bedroom with a bowl of soup in his hands. “This will make you feel better.” You glare at him. He laughs, “are you still mad at me for getting you sick?” You nod, “what do you think?” He snickers and sets the bowl aside. He sits by your side and rubs your arm tenderly. “I said sorry baby. But…” he trails off. He shows you a cheeky grin. “It’s only the common cold. Don’t be so dramatic. You still want to hit him with a pan. “I hate you.” He rolls his eyes before planting a kiss on your forehead. “I love you too. Get better soon, okay?”
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sl0t4matt · 2 days
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Marc Guiu and reader making up after an argument pls
m. guiu | into it
ik hector doesn’t have his license yet but here he does ok?! also sorry i got carried away and wrote smut :o
warnings: toxic relationship, smut, not proof read
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“are you actually fucking kidding me, marc?” you scoff, grabbing your things ready to leave. you were sick of his shit. sick of him taking his anger out on you when you did nothing but support and be there for him. how could be so mean? you understand that him loosing a game would get him upset, but making it seem like it’s your fault, when he should’ve been the one to kick the ball in the net is just not fair.
“yeah run away, like you always do when it gets tough.” he walks after you, shrugging his shoulders. “marc, don’t you take your shit out on me, because the both of us know it’s literally not on me you can’t kick a ball.” you shake your head, clearly having enough of your boyfriends whining. “fuck you can be such a-.” he stops himself before saying something stupid. “yeah, no we’re done. don’t even try to call me because i won’t come back. i mean it this time.”
you walk out the house, catching marc’s sister on the way. “hey, what happened, i heard yelling, are you guys okay?” she gives you an concerned look, probably noticing the tears that have been building up in the corner of your eyes.
before you completely break down in front of her, you decide to give her a nod, before leaving. you couldn’t believe marc. he has gotten mad about his team losing many times, but it has never been this bad. sure you would fight, it’s just something that was part of your relationship, but maybe that isn’t so normal after all.
you were both toxic playing stupid games with each other like how to make the other jealous. you loved it, the fights, the trouble. it’s what kept your relationship entertaining, but now you weren’t so sure anymore.
just fucking great! now you have to walk home. you go to walk on the other side of the street, when you suddenly hear a honk, making you jump. you turn to see hectors car stopping beside you. “shit, you scared me! what the hell are you doing here.” you sigh, shaking your head. “came to take you home.” he answers. “i’m f-.” “just get in the damn car, y/n.” hector interrupts you. you roll your eyes, walking to the passenger seat.
you wouldn’t have needed him to drive you if it wasn’t so dark out. “did marc tell you to drive me?” you ask, looking over at him. he doesn’t reply, instead he keeps looking at the road not giving a reaction, so you must take his silence as an answer. “what happened?” you can’t help but scoff. “as if marc didn’t tell you already.” he shakes his head. “he didn’t. he just told me he fucked up again and that i should pick you up.”
“we’ll at least he knows he did.” you breathe out a laugh. “seriously, what happened?” he repeats. “he’s just bitching about the lose of the game and literally behaves like a child, acting like it’s my fault. he also almost called me a bitch… so told him we’re done.” hectors eyes widen, looking like they are about to pop out. “wait what? you broke up with him, like for real this time.”
you giggle, nodding. “i’m just done with all the fights, you know.” you look out the window watching the peaceful road, with almost no cars to be seen. “but you guys love it.” he furrows. “i’m just tired lf it, you know?” he nods. “that’s fair, he’s dumb for treating you like that.” hector says, before shutting the motor down, because you arrived home. “what are you doing right now?” you ask hector, since you guys haven’t talked much previously. “nothing, why?” you smirk. “you have to stay with me! we haven’t had our gossip sessions in so long.” you nudge him. “yeah, if that makes you feel better.” he smiles shrugging. “definitely. god, there’s so much tea!!” you walk over to your house
“i still love him, even if he does stupid shit like that you know.” you tell hector, while stuffing the chips in your mouth. you would probably die if anyone saw you like this, but it’s only hector, he’s seen you your worst times. even though he’s marc’s best friend, he never told him anything when you would talk about him. that’s why you can talk so openly with him about anything, he just won’t tell anyone. “then why don’t you get back with him?” hector asks. a knock on the door cuts in your conversation. “y/n?” you hear marc’s voice, making hectors mouth drop in a gasp.
shit, this looks so wrong right now, with hector laying in your bed as well as yourself. you walk over to the door, opening it a tiny bit to see his sad looking face. he genuinely looks like he’s sorry. you look back to hector that sits dumbfound in your bed. “who’s in there?” marc asks. you shake your head. “no one.” you answer way too quick. he pushes open your door, revealing hector that is sat on your bed. you look him in the eyes to see an hint of reaction, but he doesn’t show any.
“why is he here?” marc asks, way too calm, it’s almost scaring you. “we just talked.” you say your eyes meeting with the ground, mentally preparing yourself for the yelling. “okay.” he just nods. you look up at him, a furrow on your face. have you heard that right? “can i talk to you..alone?” marc scratches the back of his head, nervously. you nod following him out.
“did you fuck him?” woah straight to it marc! also what the fuck? “what the fuck, no!” you exclaim. “okay.” he nods. “marc, can you explain yourself other than replying with an “okay”. why are you here?” he just keeps head low. he almost looks like.. he’s intimidated by you.
“i wanted to apologise.” he finally looks at you. suddenly hector comes out of your room. he points to the door awkwardly, mentioning he’s gonna leave. you give him a smile before looking back at marc.
“marc..” you start. “no please, don’t say anything, just hear me out. i shouldn’t have talked to you the way that i did. it was stupid of me to take everything out on you, because you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me and i would never want you to feel guilty of something that i did. i understand that you probably never wanna talk to me again, but i just need to make sure that despite what i said, you know that i love you.” something in the way he’s saying it makes you believe him, but you’re not sure if you can forgive him so soon.
but fuck, he has no right to look this good right now, you’re supposed to be mad at him! his lips plump and red from the way he’s been biting on them nervously, his biceps broad and strong as he crosses his arms and his eyes looking lowly down on you. how can you be mad at him, when he looks like that? “you’re on probation, i guess.” marc’s eyes light up. “what’s that supposed to mean? please. are you ever going to forgive me?” he asks, needing to know. “like i said, you’re on probation.” you reply, getting closer to him. “that isn’t a yes, y/n. do i need to get on my knees and beg for you?” you can’t help but smirk. “getting on your knees wouldn’t be such a bad idea, actually.”
“fucking hell, well we can always make that happen, ma.” his hand makes its way to your waist, pulling you onto him. in a matter of seconds his lips are on your’s. he tightens his hands on your waist and runs the other up your back, pressing you harder into his chest. your hands move in his hair, pulling him closer, if that’s even possible. he parts your lips with his tongue, to deepen the kiss. his hand on your waist loosens and trails down the side of your body, until he turns it to grab your ass. he lets out a low groan, bringing his other hand also down on your ass. you pull on his bottom lip slightly, making him smile in the kiss before reconnecting them again.
he squeezes your butt, muttering a quick “jump.” before picking you up and carrying you to your bed. he sits down, your legs each spread as you straddle him. he grips your hips, moving them back and forth so you’ll grind on him.
he groans as you feel his dick twitching under your cunt. he unbuttons his pants, making you slide your hand in them to feel his hard and veiny dick. you always forget how big he is.
he groans, taking your hand out of his boxers. “i want to make you feel good.” can he get any hotter? you smile at him, while dropping beside him on the bed. he lifts your arms before taking off your top and throwing it on the ground. he begins sucking and kissing your neck, most likely in order to cause hicky’s so everyone knows who you belong to, but it feels too good right now, to care about. his hand slides down to your loose pyjama shorts, touching your clit. you let out a whimper. you forgot how well he knew what you liked. “you look so good, ma.” he now kisses your tits also sucking on them like a newborn.
his mouth moves back on your’s, when he slides his cold fingers into your shorts, forming goosebumps on your skin. he immediately finds your hole pushing his fingers inside of you without an warning. he keeps stretching your walls, causing you to moan in his mouth. you part your mouth in the kiss, marc taking the opportunity to bite on your button lip, tasting your cherry flavoured lipgloss. he plumps his fingers in and out of you, whispering sweet words in your ear, in order to show his love for you.
his mouth moves from your face, down to your body, where you need him the most. he starts eating you out like his live depends on it licking and sucking in all your juices. you push his head deeper in your cunt, needing to feel him deeper. “marc i need your dick, please.” you moan. he looks up to you, eyes glistening, having waited for you to say that. as soon as the words left your mouth, he instantly turns you around, having your face meet with the pillow. he pulls your pants down, following with his own. you turn your head to watch him pull out his dick. lord, you’re not sure if you’re ever going to get used to his size.
he stretches your cunt as he slides into you, having you bite in the pillow in order to not let embarrassing sounds out of you. he fills you up moving, his dick in and out of you. your eyes almost fall to the back of your head, from rolling them as he fucks into you relentlessly. “fuck, so tight, ma.” he groans. you move your ass up, for yourself to feel him deeper, according to the fact he isn’t fully in you yet. “fuck, y/n. if you do that one more time i’m gonna come.” he curses.
he buries his dick deeper inside of you, his balls hitting your butt, making you whine of pleasure. he spanks your ass, fastening his peace. “marc!” you cry, as you feel him hitting your g spot. he moves rapidly, squeezing your waist. your legs begin shaking, signalling marc that, you’re gonna come. “do it.” he demands. with a cry, you cum around his cock, making him twist inside of you and pull out, coming on your belly.
he breathes heavily, his sweaty chest rising and falling with each breathe he takes. “fuck.” he mutters before getting up to take a towel from your bathroom. you look on your cum covered stomach, then back at marc that’s coming back with the towel. he smiles slightly, as he wipes it all off of you. “how are you?” he goes to lay beside you, his arms naturally finding their way to your waist, hugging you. “for a person that won’t be able to walk for the next hours, i’m doing great actually.” he laughs, pecking your shoulder.
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goldenlikedayl1ght · 2 days
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matilda - m. murdock
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a/n: hey guys i have back pain and i have daddy issues so i wanted to write a quick blurb about it. so. sorry if you guys cant particularly relate to this one it's for me <3 warnings: ANGST, reader cries a lot, probably cursing, lots of daddy issues, lots of being upset, mentions of fathers being drunk, matt picks up the reader but matt in my brain can lift like 250+ so, uhhhh i don't know guys just angst and daddy issues ! word count: 1.2k summary: you have daddy issues and back pain. matt does his best to help. pairing: matt murdock x gn!reader now playing: matilda - harry styles "i don't believe that time will change your mind/in other words, I know they won't hurt you anymore/as long as you can let them go"
Matt finds you on the floor of the kitchen, your knees hugged against your chest. He is so tired, bruises starting to really hurt after sitting all purple and blue on his ribs and his arms. He’s just in his boxers his hair damp from a shower.
You are just in a pair of boxers and a muscle tee. Your knuckles are white, and you are staring into space in the most literal definition. It’s four a.m. You are a twenty something year old adult, you have not slept in your mother’s bed in years.
And yet, you feel like a child.
And your back is fucking killing you.
Matt sits next to you on the kitchen floor, goosebumps shooting up his skin as his feet and palms feel the cold, rough tile floor. His hand finds your arm and gently rubs his thumb against your skin.
“What’re you doing on the floor, sweetheart?” His voice is low and thick with sleep. He is so tired, that his words aren’t nearly as poetic, sappy or flirtatious as he wants them to be (maybe not all at once, but he most certainly wished they were better than that).
You consider lying to him for a moment. Really, you do. You could tell him that the floor is just more comfortable, that you want him to fuck you right here against the tiles, that you just could not sleep, that there is nothing deeper than a busy brain that cannot calm down.
“My dad called me while you were away.” You tell him, your voice soft. Matt will be able to hear it no matter how loudly or quietly you say it. And at your confession, he tenses. He has a complicated relationship with your father, but his relationship is calm compared to the raging waters that make up how you feel about the man.
“Okay,” he starts, rubbing your arm gently. “And what did he say?”
You blink.
“Nothing. Nothing that should have made me feel like this.” You tell him, a horrible taste in your mouth. From what, you do not know. Matt doesn’t respond right away, waiting for you to tell him more. “He was drunk.” You say quietly.
“Oh.” He knows you don’t drink. He knows you have a very complicated relationship with substances. “I can understand why that might be upsetting..” he tries, and you shake your head, your face twisting into frustration, anger, and perhaps a hint of sadness.
“He’ll never change.” You whisper, too afraid to be any louder, too afraid that maybe from miles and miles away, your father will hear you. That maybe if you say it any louder, it won’t be a secret anymore, and that you’ll start crying if you say it any louder. “He’ll never ever change.” You say, and your head turns to look at him.
And you stare at the man that you love, and you stare and stare, and you think about Jack Murdock who loved his son so much that he was willing to die for him to have a better life, that he was entirely selfless when it came to the person you are lucky enough to call yours.
And you think about how your father wants nothing to do with you. He never did. Not really.
That’s when you start to cry.
It starts with a few tears rolling down your cheeks, salty and fat, as if they hold all of the memories your brain has locked away to protect you. Then, the tears come out faster, and faster, until you are choking on your own breath, racking with sobs. Matt’s arms are around you in an instant.
He pulls you close to him, and you feel bad for getting tears all over his skin. He’ll tell you it’s his fault for wearing just briefs. He pulls you into his lap, and while you cry into his neck, his hand comes down to your back and slips under your shirt, gently rubbing it up and down.
You twitch at the feeling, your back still aching as you sit with him, the pain contributing to your tears. Matt’s lips kiss your forehead, and he just holds you for a long time. Your breathing becomes short with how violently you’re sobbing.
“Hey, easy..” he says softly before he tilts your head up to look at him. “Your breathing isn’t healthy. Come on, watch me,” and he takes deep breathes in and out, expecting you to copy his attempts. When you’re finally at a point where you an breath on your own, Matt begins wiping your tears gently.
“Sorry…” You say quietly. He just shushes you softly and leans in to kiss your cheek.
“You never have to apologize for your emotions.” He promises, “I love you so much. I am so sorry he’s like that,” and now Matt is crying and he’s not sure why, but you feel awful about it, so your shaky hands come up to wipe his tears and he wants to laugh at your attempt at gentleness because he wonders how often you were shown the same kindness and his heart aches at the most realistic answer.
“Honey, you never have to worry about him again. You made it out, he can’t hurt you anymore..” He tells you, and you try to believe him. “You’ll never feel anything except safe and loved, I promise.” He says quietly, before leaning in to kiss you gently. “Is there anything else?” He senses that you are in physical pain too. Partially because he can tell by how your jaw clenches that you are tense, but even without his super senses, he just knows you aren’t feeling well.
He knows you too well.
“My back is killing me.” You confess, and he frowns. “And my head now.” Your head always hurts after crying.
“Okay,” He nods, “Hold tight,” and somehow, your fucking angel of a man picks you up off the floor and carries you to bed. He steps away only to grab you a glass of water and some Advil. You take it quietly, chugging the water before he sits on the bed next to you.
“Thank you for taking care of me.” You whisper, still upset, but so so grateful. He just smiles sadly and leans in to kiss you gently. Then, he pulls away to ask,
“How about I give you a quick back massage and then we get to bed? You must be tired. I know I am.” You sigh and nod, shifting so you’re laying on your stomach.
Matt leans down and kisses your shoulder before whispering, “I meant it you know. You made it out. You’re safe. You’re loved.”
And even without being a human lie detector like him, you can tell he’s telling the truth. It makes you cry more, but Matt stays to wipe the tears away. He’ll always stay. And he’ll always tell you as much when you need the reminder.
You’re safe.
You’re loved.
These words echo in your brain as you drift off to sleep, Matt holding you close, fingers tracing patterns into your skin as you fall into a dreamless sleep, focusing on the warmth that radiates off him.
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Wicked Felina (The Girl That I Love)
Part 3 - Vampire
Azriel x Reader/Rhysand’s Sister - Angst
Elain and Azriel have a moment while Tamlin and Felina reconnect. Rhys winnows his sister away following a panic attack, leaving Azriel and Tamlin to face each other one-on-one. After poor decisions are made, Azriel must answer to his High Lady. If only Feyre realized how much danger she’s in.
Part 2 Series Masterlist
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Warnings: blood, violence, self-loathing, panic attack resulting from past heartbreak and trauma, language
To Azriel, it felt like an eternity. An eternity of standing there watching his mate in the arms of a male he despised, reviled. And Felina, she looked like she was home. Like she’d just found solace after centuries of wandering alone and weary.
And fuck, it made him a bastard but it gutted him. He wanted, no, needed, to scoop her right out of his arms and carry her to a place where it was just him and her. They had so much to address. All they’d done was fed and fucked after Azriel had been turned, he thought there’d be plenty of time for talking once the bloodlust and mating frenzy settled but then everything had gone to shit.
He was so happy to have this female he adored back in his life - but to him, she was so new and he didn’t know how to feel. Because when he looked into those eyes, he still saw that swirling darkness. Not the dancing of stars he’d once adored when they were young but, the darkness of being trapped, locked away, tormented by those who should have been trustworthy. A darkness he could recognize all too well.
Where had she been all those years?
A gentle hand landed on his shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts. He looked to find the brown doe-eyes of Elain, looking to him with concern - guilt.
“Can we talk for a moment?” She whispered.
Azriel felt the muscles of his jaw tighten. The thought of leaving Felina with Tamlin made him sick.
“Not now, Elain.” He grit a bit more harshly than intended. Her eyes cast downward and he saw the hurt flicker across her soft features.
Gods, looking at her now, he didn’t know how he’d ever thought the cauldron made a mistake. She was lovely, a kind soul, she was good.
But his mate - she was wild, curious about the world around her, stars eternal. At least, she had been in her youth. Somehow being turned only amplified her into a force that had yet to be reckoned with, dark and mysterious. She was fucking everything.
She started to turn away and the guilt struck Azriel. His words of “this was a mistake.” on that cursed solstice weighing heavily between them. He could give her a moment of his time.
So, he followed her. “Elain, wait.” He spoke softly, his long strides effortlessly catching him up to her. “Let’s speak over there.” Nodding his head toward a bistro set that was far enough away from the foyer for privacy, but close enough that he could monitor.
The Shadowsinger pivoted away from the situation just long enough that he missed Felina turning her head to search for him, just to see him walking away with the delicate female.
Elain seated herself at the small table, rays of sunlight shone through the window, casting a golden hue upon her hair, rendering the middle Archeron sister nearly blonde. Her leg bounced with anxiety as Azriel took a seat across from her, sending up his shadows to block the rays.
“I-“ Elain started. “Azriel, I am so sorry. This is my fault. Lucien and I have been writing, we’ve been trying to get to know eachother. I mentioned to him about the reunion between Rhys and his sister.”
Azriel pressed his lips into a line, shuffling through his thoughts and treading carefully. “It’s fine-“
“No,” she interjected. “It’s not. I only told him because I’d had a vision of blood, shadow, and night. It alarmed me but… nobody listens to me, Azriel. They don’t understand my visions, I- I don’t either. But Lucien, he listens. He tries to help. So when she showed up, and when we realized that she- and you- were turned, I realized what the vision meant. So I told him.”
Her glassy eyes looked to him. “I had no idea about Tamlin. And I think, I think I understand why Lucien told him. He knew, about the history between she and Tamlin. But I had never mentioned all that you were going through, that she’s your mate and that there are still so many unanswered questions. I’m SO sorry.”
Azriel shook his head. How could she have known? Azriel was the gods-damned spymaster, he’d always cared for Felina and made a point to look after her, and he’d never known. He had seen a note from “Peter” once but just assumed it was some crush she’d made in Velaris. How had he never thought to look further into who she was seeing?
He knew the answer though. He always had. It was the same reason he’d never looked into Lucien’s whereabouts, or Graysen’s.
But he wasn’t ready to face that right now. The jealousy he’d harbored in those days and the well of emotions and complicated histories that it would bring to light.
So, he took a steadying breath and softened his gaze as he met her wide eyes. “Elain, it’s okay. None of us knew about their history and,” he reached a scarred hand out to brush her arm, a friendly act of reassurance. “I’m happy that Lucien is helping. Your visions are worth listening to, your voice is worth hearing.”
Elain gave a smile that didn’t meet her eyes, he could see the guilt there. And while Azriel was certainly not thrilled to see Tamlin there, he harbored no ill-will toward Elain, or Lucien for that matter, for Tamlin’s appearance today.
A sharp cry pierced the air as Felina pulled herself away from Tamlin. And Azriel almost, almost, felt a twinge of empathy for the male at the look of pain crossing his features.
“No, no, no.” Felina whimpered covering her ears, tears falling from her eyes. Azriel was on his feet in a moment, winnowing to her side as her breathing increased, pulling her in close - Felina opened her eyes, glistening with tears, and Azriel felt an intense jolt of heartbreak tug on their bond.
“I remember.” She choked out, pushing away from his embrace. She looked so small in that moment, so broken. Azriel placed a palm to his chest, as if physically feeling the pain barreling down the bond. “What is it, Felina?”
“I- I don’t. I’m sorry. I can’t-” she cried, her voice barely audible. But her next word came out clear, “Rhys?” Her brother looked to her with such sympathy, such tenderness. “What is it little star?” He asked, stepping to her side, shrouding the two of them in darkness. Azriel’s shadows whispered in his ear.
“Sad.”
“Hurt.”
“Mate.”
He couldn’t make out what was said but one moment Rhys had her in his arms, and the next, they were gone.
Rage filled Azriel as his mate vanished. Fixing his icy gaze toward a downcast Tamlin, his shadows whirled, promising violence. Elain hurried out the front door leaving just the two males. And Azriel was going to kill him.
In an instant, Azriel tackled Tamlin, fists brutally making impact with his face. “What did you do to her!?” He roared, pain filling him. Tamlin didn’t make any effort to hit Azriel, only turning his head and freeing an arm from beneath the Shadowsinger’s weight to block what he could.
Azriel was going to make this brutal, ensure Tamlin felt every ounce of pain the past centuries had brought upon them. “Nothing!” Tamlin choked out, blood filling his mouth. “I did nothing. I swear.”
“No.” Azriel spoke, landing a fist to Tamlin’s cheek. “Nothing is what you did while Feyre was fighting for her life, for Prythian, under the mountain. Nothing is what you did when your family tried to kill my mate- and her mother.” Another blow landed, this time cracking Tamlin’s nose, the metallic tang of blood filling the air. “Nothing,” Azriel spat. “Is what you are.”
It was then that Tamlin went still. All attempts of defense dropping as the words echoed through the room.
“Fight! You fucking coward!” Azriel shoved at his chest.
Tamlin turned his head to the side, vacantly staring off to the other end of the room, eyes going vacant as the weight of Azriel’s words settled within him. “You’re right.” Tamlin whispered. “I am nothing.”
The sound of Tamlin’s ragged breaths and Azriel’s heavy gasps filled the space. More blood trickled down the Spring Court High Lord’s face. “I am nothing and she is everything.” Tears lined the males eyes. “But I didn’t say anything, today. She she looked to see you walking away, she saw you with the Archeron sister, watched you caress her arm, and then she crumpled.”
Azriel gaped, his heart shattering. He was the one who’d caused her pain? Azriel let out an enraged roar, so low and loud that it rattled the windows. At that moment, the front door flew open. Feyre and Lucien entered the foyer, taking in the sight before them. The blood running down Tamlin’s face, dripping onto his tunic and splattering on the floor; Azriel’s disheveled state, his shadows snaking around him angrily, the blood coating his knuckles.
“What did you do?” Lucien ground out, stepping in Azriel’s direction.
Elain stood outside the doorway holding Nyx, excusing herself to remove the winged babe from the confrontation.
“What did HE do?” Feyre scoffed. “He’s not the one intruding in our home.”
Lucien only gave her a side-eye, swallowing whatever smart retort he had at the ready. “What. Happened?” the youngest Vanserra’s russet eye bounced back and forth between the two, the golden one whirring with each motion.
Tamlin and Azriel both stood there, like petulant children before a reprimanding father, neither speaking.
Finally, Tamlin broke the silence. “It was my fault. I’m leaving.” Azriel didn’t miss the sadness in his eyes as he looked to Lucien and Feyre and left.
“Tam, wait.” Lucien called out, but he’d already winnowed away.
Feyre looked to Azriel with a frown. “Given the state of Tamlin’s nose and your fist, something tells me this wasn’t just Tamlin’s fault. What the hell happened, Azriel?”
“I’d like to know the same.” Lucien chided, tanned arms crossing over his chest. Azriel’s hazel eyes narrowed in his direction. “You don’t need to know anything else, considering you can’t keep your mouth shut, Vanserra. You’re the reason he showed up in the first place.”
Lucien gaped, a rare show of the clever fox being caught off guard, before muttering “Shit.” He looked to the blood splattered floor, shaking his head. “I need to go find him.”
With that, he was out the door. Azriel let out a sigh, looking toward the stairwell as if Felina were up in their shared chamber and not wherever the hell Rhys had winnowed her to.
Feyre, ever the High Lady, held her head high, waiting for her spymaster to explain himself. “I need to get some air.” He muttered, making to move past her. “Oh no, you don’t.” Her hand grasped his shoulder, bringing him to a halt. “We are not finished here.”
And damn it, if she wasn’t the one person who could get him to listen right now. Rhys was one thing. Azriel could toe the line with him, test boundaries, display that icy rage that so often flowed through his veins.
But Feyre, he had no doubt that she could handle his rage as well but she was different. She had given everything for Prythian, even when she had absolutely no reason to give a damn about the fae. She was a good and just ruler. Not that Rhys wasn’t, but five-hundred years of brotherhood would jade anyone’s view, if only slightly.
So, Azriel stayed, hazel gaze fixing upon his High Lady, awaiting her next command. “Can we talk?” She asked gently, moving her tattooed hand down his arm. Azriel only nodded as she led him to the sitting room.
Situating herself on a tufted arm chair, Feyre smoothed her paint splattered dress, patiently waiting for Azriel to take his seat in the adjacent loveseat. “Elain came to find me at the studio, asking to reach out to get Lucien. She said Tamlin had shown up unannounced at the River House, that you two had talked, and something happened with Tamlin that upset Felina. Is that correct?”
Azriel nodded. It was mostly true. Was there really need to go into detail?
Feyre’s brow furrowed. “Look at me, Azriel.”
He flicked his hazel eyes to her briefly before looking back toward the entry. “You’re not telling me everything. It doesn’t take my daemati ability to see that, Az.” Her words held firm but her gaze gentle.
Emotions warred within Azriel. He didn’t want to talk to Feyre about this, about the way his heart clenches at the thought of losing Y/N - Felina - the name leaving a bitter taste in his mouth, knowing now where it originated from. At the same time, it was a support for her, a name that she held onto when nothing else made sense. He was a selfish bastard for resenting it.
However, he refused to feel selfish for the anger he felt toward Tamlin. He drew the line there. If she needed a friend, Azriel would be the first to offer that. If she needed Tamlin’s friendship, if somehow his presence were to aid in her healing? He’d swallow his pride and live with it.
He could support her, and her healing, while internally resenting Tamlin. For now it was the best he could do.
He knew he couldn’t lose control like he did this afternoon again. He’d likely have to make amends for that.
Consumed by thoughts he dropped his face into both hands, rubbing his eyes before leaning his head onto the backrest, arms crossing over his chest. Letting out a sigh of exhaustion. He couldn’t remember the last time he rested properly. Thank the gods for the unique design of this seat with indentions to accommodate Illyrian wings. The perfect spot for brooding comfortably.
A slight discomfort, however, began to set the Shadowsinger on edge. His body growing rigid.
“Hello?” Feyre’s voice invaded his mind, reminding him he still wasn’t alone.
“You’re rather persistent, High Lady.” he replied through the mental channel, that ache growing a bit stronger.
A soft laugh echoed. “Yes. Now tell me what happened.”
Azriel sent images to her, of Felina’s upset, Rhys winnowing her away, his own embarrassing outburst, the cruel words he’d spoken, the realization that he was the reason for her hurt and not Tamlin.
“That’s a lot to unpack. Speaking to you as High Lady, how you treated Tamlin was unacceptable - but, I know you are aware. From a political perspective, we should issue a formal apology at the very least. As a friend, however, you have been through a lot in a very short period of time and have so much to process. With such unusual circumstances and how new your accepted bond is - I cannot fault you for protecting her. We know so little about Vampyr bonds but I’m certain that also played a role.”
Azriel’s cheeks burned with shame. “Do you know where they went?”
His breathing increased, a metallic tang settling into his nose, seeping to his very bones.
A pause. “I do. She is safe but she needs to be with Rhys right now. Honestly, I think they both need it. He’s been on edge since she arrived.”
Azriel let out a huff, sitting upright and ending the mental connection to speak aloud. “I can understand that.”
Was the air in the house growing warmer or was that the increase in his pulse?
Sympathy flickered in those blue-gray eyes as Feyre reached out, placing a hand on Azriel’s knee. “I can’t imagine what this must feel like, Azriel, and I won’t pretend to, but things will work out in time. Perhaps the Mother knew what she was doing when she put someone with - today’s incident aside - such patience, when that is exactly what Y/N needs. What is it Amren used to tell Cassian about Nesta?” Feyre’s brows drew downward as she tried to remember.
Azriel’s restless state rendering him impatient as she searched for the words, he blurted out Amren’s saying, “Keep reaching out your hand.”
And fuck - he looked at his own hand now remembering the dried blood coating it, the blood that had filled his nostrils, when he rubbed his face.
Hunger. This was hunger. Oh gods-
His sharpened canines flashed as he looked to his High Lady, “Feyre-“
Her pulse fluttered deliciously.
Feyre’s eyes widened with realization. “Oh fuck.” She whispered, standing and stepping back from him. “Hold on, Az. It’s okay. It’s okay. We’re okay.”
And then he lunged.
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Rhys sat in silence as his sister sobbed into his chest. He’d winnowed them directly to the cabin - the one that seemed at this point everyone used to avoid their own mate at some point or another.
Visions of past solstices danced in his mind. How she would sit and watch until her cheeks turned frigid. Cassian would tease her, telling her that any male that wanted to win her heart would have to take them all on in a snowball fight and come out alive. Rhys would chuckle and Az would wrap his scarf around her, or blow on her hands to warm them. He’d always cared for her. Rhys had thought in a brotherly sort of way, he knew for a fact that was how Azriel intended it, but now- he imagined it was the mating bond buried deep down, likely just starting to spark. He didn’t know whether to smile or cringe at that.
He’d become so lost in thought, holding his sister and running fingers through her raven locks that he hadn’t noticed her shutters slow down, her breathing evening out. “It looks different.” She whispered, shocking herself with the statement. “I remember this place. I think. It’s familiar, but not.”
Rhys smiled. “Well, that, my dear sister, would be because Amren and Morrigan went head to head and reduced the place to rubble a century or so ago. I rebuilt it the best that I could but made some changes - the tubs even accommodate Illyrian wings now. And Feyre darling, she added her own touches to the place.”
“Interesting…” she whispered. “I think our father would have keeled over had he seen that.”
Rhys rolled his eyes. “You’re not wrong. Our father never was the type to appreciate the arts, though he did enjoy your love of it. Not enough to let you paint the walls of any of our homes but- enough to take you to the theater whenever he could, enough to ensure the Rainbow was well-funded and thriving.”
Smiling sadly, he continued, “When I first saw the paintings here, I thought of you. How if you’d have been here, you would have been right there with her, painting along.”
Felina looked to her brother, trying so desperately to remember her old self. Who she’d once been.
“I never forgot you, sister. I’ve carried you in my heart every day, there was not a sunset that I didn’t think about the way your eyes shone with wonder as the stars appeared, about the nights you’d beg me to fly with you….wishing I’d have been there more often, wishing I’d said yes every time you asked.”
“Our past does not define us. What we do with today does.” She whispered, puzzling at her own statement. Rhys whipped his head toward her. “You remember more than you realize.”
She thought on her words. “Azriel. He used to say that, yes?”
Yes. Rhys nodded grimly, remembering the treatment his brother received as a child. “Do you remember what else he would tell you?”
“I don’t think I do.”
Rhys wrapped his arm around her shoulder, holding her closely.
“It’s the courage to continue that counts.”
Felina’s hands shook and Rhys gave them a squeeze. She whispered to herself “I am Y/N.” Her given name felt less foreign than she’d expected. “I am courageous. I will not be afraid.”
Rhys’ eyes glazed over, his posture going rigid. The grip of his hand squeezing more tightly onto his sister’s cold hand.
Suddenly she was brought into Rhys’ mind, Feyre’s voice frantic.
“It’s Azriel. He needs Felina. NOW.”
——————————————
A/n: If you read this chapter and think “Wow, Felina is being pretty dramatic over Elain” Please hold. There’s more to it that will be unpacked later - she has been through a lot and is still harboring centuries old feelings/emotions that feel recent to her as her memory slowly comes back.
Tags:
General ACOTAR tag: @lilah-asteria
Series tags: @glittervame @julesofvolterra @saltedcoffeescotch @candyjaypoppins @st4r-girl-official @nocasdatsgay @gxdsmonsters
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DICK KNUBBLER MAYE STILL BE ALIVE
Kinda
Alright before I do anything take this with a grain of salt, cause it’s probably a continuity error / can be easily explained away BUT if you all would like to hold onto some hope please just hear me out. And also it offers a question for yall.
Alright! So!
On twitter someone had asked Brendon and Gene about Murmaider III and its placement on Dethalbum IV ( which btw shoutout to Gene’s wife that was brilliant ) and Brendon had mentioned that what sets 3 apart from the other two was that it was more dreamlike, and that it was made AFTER Army of the Doomstar. Now since Brendon and Gene weren’t the ones to make the order on the Album we can’t set a timeline for the songs ( though they are set in Brutal to Dreamlike order once again shoutout to Genes wife you goddess ) we can at least say that some songs were made post Army. In fact we could also make some assumptions about what songs were made DURING army. So I’ll separate that list here.
NOTE : YALL DONT NEED TO READ THIS PART THIS IS JUST ME RUNNING WITH “ some songs were made post AOTD which ones could they be teehee “ JUST KNOW MURMAIDER AND SOS WERE AFTER KUBBLER DIED OK SORRy I’m not deleting that whole thing I like it
Songs with “ * “ are canon, the rest are personal interpretation.
DURING ARMY OF THE DOOMSTAR:
* Aortic Desecration ( the first song of salvation but obviously not )
* SOS ( song of salvation )
Gardener of Vengeance ( Nathan directly references this during the scene where he confides in the band and Knubbler that he doesn’t write songs about hope and he’s just doing what he knows. I believe he wrote and recorded this but felt it wasn’t good enough to be the song of salvation and moved on. HOWEVER the language he used could place this as post AOTD because it sounds more like a thrown out there example kinda like how he figured out SOS in the cave )
Poisoned By Food ( Again I think this is a scrapped song of salvation since besides the actual poisoning of food a lot of the imagery feels like the what the metalocalypse was described like )
BLOODBATH ( guess what another scrapped song of salvation. This one feels like a ‘you don’t scare me I’m going to confidently stop you because if I go down you go down with me’ song. Also it could be Nathan trying to reach out to Magnus since he was one of the people on his list. Also quick note I’m going song by song so I don’t know if I’ll notice if any other songs would reflect the list I just got out of work so I’m not gonna catch it all rn )
Horse of Fire ( this is tricky because lyrics like star still blazing allude to this being written before aortic desecration but also Nathan didn’t have the talk with the whale until the deadline came up in which he had to go with aortic desecration <he wouldn’t have had time to write about the fist or the hand.> But the lyrics don’t have the <we should reach out to the fans> revelation that SOS has. Maybe this was a draft for SOS but I think once Nathan figured out what SOS was meant to be it just came to him naturally. I’m not sure. HOWEVER since the doomstar is referred to as a star that is still blazing and not a portal that’s been destroyed it’s safe to say this is not post AOTD. Either way this is an important song to keep in mind if you look at this speculating )
POST ARMY OF THE DOOMSTAR:
* Murmaider III ( stated by Brendon Small in the interview. He said he feels that the boys would have written this after AOTD and based off of interviews he’s had in the past about his songwriting process it’s hard to not take this as canon so. )
DEADFACE ( I think this is post because while the song plays during the movie only Skwisgaar knew about the possession so the lyrics wouldn’t quite make sense yet. It’s a tricky placement but I can see Skwisgaar playing around with it since he does play the notes during the movie )
Mutilation on a Saturday Night ( this feels so much like a we survived so now we’re gonna party song I can’t see Nathan Skwisgaar or Pickles make an argument for this being a Song of Salvation. Also all the fucked up shit they talk about references what happened during the metalocalypse but it’s spoken in past tense like a ‘hey we fucked shit up but we fixed it so now we’re just gonna keep fucking around haha’)
I am The Beast ( simply cause I don’t see this as something Nathan would write during AOTD but the ‘ I am a beast this is my domain and when I speak you scream my name ‘ could work as a salvation line but it feels too much like a Mutilation Saturday Night ‘I can write whatever I want cause I lived and I’m not gonna hold back’ vibe )
Satellite Bleeding ( this feels like the first song they would have written and recorded after the doomstar died. Kinda like watching the sky clear up after a storm. )
Now despite me rambling on about this I would like to draw attention to what’s canon. Specifically SOS and Murmaider III. These songs came out after Knubbler died. Yet Dethalbum IV credits Knubbler for production.
Drawing your attention to how crediting in the Dethalbum works, each album has a little section for Dethklok to get musical credits and thank whoever and whatever. There’s also production credit and location credit. On ALL of the Dethalbums Knubbler is credited as producer. Cause he’s the producer makes sense yeayeyaeyah. But whenever there’s a change in location or production, there’s additional credits.
ANOTHER NOTE: I DONT HAVE THE KLOK OPERA CD I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE CREDITING SYSTEM LOOKS LIKE ON THERE but if someone happens to be selling that cd outside of eBay please let me know
Let’s look at them.
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Dethalbum I ^
Shit ton of credits right, and on the other page which I didn’t take a picture of and can’t because I’m not home at the moment there’s credit to Snakes N Barrels for “Kill You” with each member listed. Take note that songs that are considered exceptions are credited differently and locations not at Mordhaus are credited.
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I lied I have the other page. For those without the dethalbum cds the actual credits are usually on another page and “Kill You” got mixed in with it
Anyways
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Dethalbum II
Hey Knubbies gets to thank someone this time! Anyways once again Knubbler is credited for production, but also Dethklok. Keep this in mind. Also the fact that different location credited for Murmaider II but it’s recorded at Mordhaus
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Dethalbum III
Knubbler credit AND Abigail credit along with Dethklok AND once again location credit is Mordhaus and another fuckass place. Only thing that’s not really credited is Magnus with The Hammer but idk if he was like Toki and William where they play the songs but don’t really write or if he actually wrote The Hammer. I’m not a HammerHead, I’ve seen people interpret him as both, but at the end of the day idrk.
So what about Dethalbum IV
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Knubbler is credited. At Deus Keep. Only Knubbler. Only at Deus Keep. “But he’s not credited as a Producer” True! If the album was released in universe it would probably be a producer credit. Especially since Brendon and Ulrich have Producer credit on the page prior. Maybe it’s because Knubbler didn’t make it to the final production stage. Or maybe he’s staying hidden undercover..
Remember earlier. He canonically was not around for two of these songs on this album. He could not have recorded OR mixed SOS or Murmaider III. Even if you don’t fully think that Murmaider III was made Post AOTD, SOS was done post Knubbler death. Hell, the song was dedicated to him by William! But there’s no separate credit for SOS.
If we went on the same basis as previous albums SOS would have been credited to that part of Norway where they traveled to that I forgot the name of and I’m not gonna look up but you get the point. Or even Dethklok would have been credited as production. I could also say something about how Murmaider III wasn’t recorded in the Mariana Trench and how the whale isn’t calling to Nathan anymore but that’s for another day. Right now though, it’s just Knubbler. Just Knubbler and Deus Keep.
Which leads to 3 possibilities.
Knubbler Lives: Knubbler survived ( the flashing things on the ground were teleporters ) and Deus Keep is rebuilt. To celebrate their survival they make Dethalbum IV but don’t release it
Knubbler Died: The band recorded the last few songs on the album at the remains of Deus Keep. Knubblers presets aren’t changed so credit remains to him. Once again not releasing it.
It’s not an album: Dethalbum IV doesn’t exist in universe. That’s why there’s no producer credit. That’s why Nathan doesn’t thank the klokateers ( he thanks the army of the doomstar which is just him thanking fans ). Dethklok recording it post AOTD is more to do with how Brendon records dethalbums than in universe writing.
I like to think that this is just an unreleased album in universe since the record label is more than likely destroyed, but it has the possibility of releasing one day if society is rebuilt to what it once was. But it really depends on if you think the album is canon to the universe. Cause there’s no Mordhaus credit on Dethalbum IV and there’s no way for SOS to have been recorded at Deus Keep and blablabla
something fun to think about tho yk?
TLDR: two songs on dethalbum IV were made after Knubbler death yet the credit doesn’t change for him in the dethalbum so there’s a chance that he recorded and mixed those songs cause he is alive and well horray
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smoothies-are-cool · 2 days
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all of me
part three of the bad idea series - part two
boyfriend! chris sturniolo x reader
summary: reader loses her cat and chris is with her always and then they go out on a date to distract her from the grief.
warnings: swearing, mentions of death, loss of a pet, pet names (baby, mama, sweetheart).
a/n: this song is so fucking good dude 👩‍🍳🤌💋
READERS POV
i drove to chris’ house in tears. my cat, annie had passed away. she had been my birthday present when i was 5 and i loved her unconditionally.
after i pulled into his driveway i practically ran to the door, knocking on it.
“hi ma- woah what’s wrong?” chris asks when he sees the state i’m in.
“annie passed a-away.” i hiccup, tears still falling down my cheeks.
“oh baby.” chris says, his face softening. he grabs my hand to pull me inside and he brings me down to his room. he quickly pulls me into him. my arms go around his torso and i hide my face in his chest.
after calming down i sit up. we had moved to sit on his bed so we could be more comfortable.
“i’m sorry i meant to shower before i came over here but i needed to see you.” i tell him, apologizing for my appearance.
“don’t apologize. even when you’re crying you’re beautiful too.” he comforts, pulling me back into him. my cheeks flush red, but luckily since my face was now in his neck he couldn’t tell.
2 weeks later
it’s been two weeks and i’ve been slowly feeling better. chris had been with me every step of the way. grief is always hard, even for animals.
me and chris we’re currently sitting on his bed. we were both silently scrolling on our phones, the sound of tangled playing in the background.
“mama?” he says, grabbing my attention.
“hm?” i hum, letting him know that i’m listening.
“i planned something for us later.” he tells me. i furrow my brows and turn off my phone.
“what’d you plan?” i ask, tilting my head to the side to show my confusion.
“it’s a surprise but you should be ready by 5:00.” he says, attempting to hide his smirk but he wasn’t doing a very good job.
“okay i will be.” i smiled softly.
i started getting ready at 5:00. it didn’t take too long since i had showered this morning so all i had to do was my makeup and get dressed. at 5:25 i walked out of chris’ bathroom to see him sitting on the edge of his bed.
“you ready?” i ask, putting my makeup bag on his gaming desk.
“woah, you look gorgeous.” chris compliments and i smile.
“thank you chris.” i blush.
“let’s go then, yeah?” he asks and i nod. “okay i’m gonna put the directions in your gps.”
“okay good because i don’t trust you to give directions.” i giggle softly as chris playfully looks offended.
“the beach?” i ask softly, putting my car in park.
“yeah come on.” chris said, getting out of the car. i quickly follow him and we walk down the beach.
“so i had matt, nick and madi all help me with this.” he says as we walk up to madi sitting on a blanket with snacks.
“hi madi baby. what’s happening?” i ask as madi stands up.
“someone had to sit with the blanket.” she smiles, hugging me.
“goodluck.” she whispers as she walks away. chris motions for me to sit down, as he sits down himself.
“me and matt went to the store yesterday and got all your favorites. him, nick and madi set it up earlier.” he explains, answering my questions before i could answer them.
“this is adorable. i want to cry.” i giggle softly.
“don’t cry. this is to make sure you don’t cry.” chris tells me, kissing my head.
“this is beautiful, chris. thank you.” i smile at him, grabbing the bag of watermelon sour patch kids.
“anything for you.” he says softly.
“okay so i do want to talk real quick.” chris tells me, causing me to sit up.
“i’m all ears.” i say, crossing my legs.
“i’ve liked you for a long time. like years. it feels very unreal that you’re mine.” he spoke, pausing and thinking for a second.
“not mine yet.” he corrects. i knew where he was going with this, and i already had my answer.
“okay let me get to the point. i really like you and i think you like me. so i was wondering if i could be your boyfriend?” he asks hesitantly. i knew he was nervous.
“yeah but only if it means i can be your girlfriend.” i giggle softly. he lets out a breath of relief.
“oh thank god. you have no idea how nervous i was.” he admits. i quickly pull him closer to me and kiss his lips.
“no more nervousness. come on, let’s have fun.” i tell him, standing up and running towards the water.
“wait you don’t have a bathing suit!” chris calls.
“who cares!!” i shout, running into the water and diving in once it was deep enough. when i resurface i see chris staring at me.
“you gonna join me or just stand there?” i ask, laughing. he shrugs and jumps into the water. me and chris playfully splash each other, nothing but smiles on our face.
a/n: i hope this lives up to the expectation because i know a few people wanted multiple parts. here’s the last one and i hope you love ittt 🫶🫶
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xkaidaxxxx · 3 days
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Eligible Bakugou x Eligible Reader
2.6k words pt.1
“ Go on and mingle sweetie.” Your mother said to fix your sleeve. Your father gave you a look that said behave for you need a suitor. You nodded and ran along. As soon as you were about to have a cup of tea a man went up to you. “Hello beautiful maiden. I’m Eijiro Kirishima.” he pressed a peck on your soft hand. “ I’m Ms. Y/n L/n. It’s a pleasure to meet you sir.” you replied with a pretty smile. “ Hello, I see Kirishima beat me to it. I’m Denki Kaminari.” he introduced himself by pecking your hand as well. You giggled. - he's so cute- you thought. “ Would you like to dance with me?” Kirishima asked you, which was Denki’s que to leave. “ Of course.” you replied and as you started dancing you noticed many other men were watching. “ “They had every right to do so””  after all you were beautiful, young, and single. Oh and on top of that your family was the most wealthy. You were the only daughter as well. “You’re a lovely dancer. We’d dance everyday if you’d be mine. I promise. I’m the best suitor for you darling. I’d like to speak with your father.” he said. “You’re not suitable for me. You’re so full of yourself if you think you're what’s best for me. Now excuse me sir.” you replied leaving the dance floor. Minutes later your best friend walked over to you. “Oh thank goodness you’re here.” you said giving her a hug which she returned. “ Oh god whatever you do avoid the blondie. His name is Aoyama. 2 o clock He’s so in love with himself you’d be the 2nd best.” Mina said. You turned to see him then looked back at her. “5 o’clock Ida. He’s the most strict and boring person. Not your type.” she said. Mina knew everything about you and vice versa. “ What about denki? Have you talked with him enough? He seems like such a kind man.” you said, taking him into consideration. “ He is a good man. He seems like he has no care in the world but the truth is, he's very smart and strong. He is someone you should try getting to know more. Plus you’re already interested.” she replied, fixing your hair. “ I have to go. I need a break so I’m going back to my parents.” Mina said leaving you. 
“ Ms. L/n. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Izuku Midoriya.” He said bowing. “ You better go introduce yourself , Katsuki. I won’t take no for an answer. Do you understand?” Katsuki's mother ordered him. “ Yes ma'am,” he replied. He looked over at you with Deku. “ You look tired and irritated. How about I set up a date with permission from your father, If you’d like?” He asked sweetly. You were impressed he cared enough to set up a meeting and take your feelings into consideration. “ Yes sir. I’ll be on my way.” You smiled leaving. “ Go on now, Katsuki.” Mitsuki said. He nodded, walking over grabbing a glass of champagne for you both. “ You played with your dress.
 “ Ms. Y/n L/n. How are you doing tonight?” Katsuki asked. You turned around. “Ah Mr. Bakugou. It’s so nice to meet you sir.” you said smiling. You’ve heard of Katsuki Bakugou from your girlfriends and your father finds him good to make business with, however he never told you about him. Not for being your husband. You saw a glimpse of him entering your fathers office once. “I’m doing well tonight although speaking to eligible suitors is tiring.” you replied, taking your glass of champagne and drinking a slip. “ I should go. I don’t want to make your night exhausting.” he said. You grabbed his arm and said desperately, “N-No. You’re okay sir.” You immediately let go of his arm not wanting to cause any type of drama. “ Good to know. I am sorry I didn’t introduce myself sooner, as you know I’ve gone to speak business with your father.” he replied. “ Yeah I um saw you once but by that time I should’ve been asleep. I had a big day the next morning.” You replied. “Your birthday, He invited me but I had promised my mother I’d have a relaxing day with her.” he replied smiling. Katsuki Bakugou smiled and hasn’t exploded yet. “ It’s sad you couldn’t make it, sir.” you said. He placed out his hand and you gladly grabbed it. He led you outside to the garden, you guys crossed a beautiful bridge. You were confused on how he knew where he was going. You reached the gazebo. “ It’s nice and quiet. I figured you’d need it with all the mingling and music going off.” he said. You blushed. 
Mina gasped, “ Momo, Jiro, Kagakure. I saw her walking outside with Mr.Bakugou. She’s in trouble. Formation B, No No, Formation C.” She said, “ I’ve heard he has a shitty personality. Always exploding at his parents and even his employees.” Momo said, worried about you. “ Thank you for being considerate. I know you’re being kind due to wanting to marry Mr.L/n’s only daughter. Interest is all this is about.” you said being honest. His face went red. “Look, my mother sent me over, which is stupid! She didn’t tell me to be nice, you idiot! I know what it’s like to be bombarded with stupid shit coming your way. I’m genuinely being a nice person! I’d like to take you on a date…dumbass. I’ll get permission from your dad and then show up with stupid cliche roses and a necklace on our date. Yes or No?” he asked. You were shocked, struggling to understand if he was being an asshole or not. “Today Y/n.” he said snapping his finger at your face brings you back from your thoughts. “U-Uh? Um? Okay yes I’d like to go on a date with you. Dumbass?” you replied trying to match his energy. “ HUH!? You’re the dumbass you asshole. Let’s go back inside.” he said. As you walked inside the party was ending and more than half of the guests were gone. 
You looked around for your girlfriends. You had dropped your drink as you dumped into a man with red and white hair. He also accidentally spilled his drink on you. “ Oh god. I am sorry.” He apologized, taking out his handkerchief quickly. You knew this man. He came over for dinner a few times. You were caught staring at him and your brother would kick you under the table and tease you about it once Shoto had left.“ Mr.Todoroki it’s alright. Only an accident.” you replied. He wiped some of the drink off your dress. Shoto was a strong, powerful, and smart man. Also one of Bakugou’s frenemies. He was insecure about many things. He doesn’t know how to be social unless it's about his job, he found his eyes odd just as some people, he also disliked his hair. “ Your dress.” he replied, handing you this handkerchief. You grabbed it, cleaning your hands . “ It’s a dress, nothing more.” you replied. He took off his blazer and covered you up. Katsuki moved the few strands of hair that bothered you out of the way. You were blushing like crazy.  You crossed off  Denki and Deku out of your list and now you’re struggling on how you are supposed to choose between Bakugou and Shoto. 
The following day your father called you to his office. “ Am I in trouble? I swear I didn’t mean to explode the tree outback.” you said hoping he’d let you off on it. “ Now that I’m aware of it, we will talk about it later. You’ve got 6 requests last night. I’m glad you behaved yourself. Kirishima, Denki, Midoriya, Bakugou, Shoto and Shinso.” he said. “ Forget about Kirishima, Denki, Deku, and Shinso.” you said crossing your arms. “ I expect you to meet with them.” your father said sternly. “No! I want Bakugou and Shoto! End of story!” you yelled and stomped your foot like a child, but you knew you’d get whatever you wanted after that stomp. You aren’t a spoiled brat but when you needed or wanted something so desperately it helped. “Alright sweetie. I’ll send out emails to them. Now about the tree. It will be removed but you will plant a new one.” he said. You nodded and finally left his office. Your brother was waiting outside. “Katsuki Bakugou and Shoto Todoroki. You’re a smart little sister.” Kousuke said, patting your head. “ What the heck is that supposed to mean?” you asked, smacking his hand away. “ They’re both very wealthy right behind dad. Choose carefully. Marriage isn’t easy. It’s not always about love. Some people get lucky. Like me.” he said. Kousuke is one of the older brothers you have that teases you the most but he cares just as much as the others. You nodded and hurried on to help your mother wash her paint brushes. 
“ Katsuki, she's a smart, passionate young lady and so she won’t just choose immediately regardless of what she told you yesterday.” Mitsuki said, turning off the tv. Katsuki let out small explosions from his hand. “ You think I don't know that you hag!?” he yelled in response. “  Then stop being impatient and pacing back and forth like an idiot!”she said, smacking his head hard. 
Shoto put on a beanie as he went to visit his mother. The words she said when he was a kid never go away. “ Hey mom.” he smiled, closing the door behind him. “ Hi my little Shoto.” she replied sitting up. “ so..remember how Mr.L/n has invited me to have dinner with him and his family. Well I’ve asked if I can take his daughter out on a date.” he said playing with a bracelet he had on. “ Wow you have a crush. I hope everything goes well for you.” “Yeah I’m eager for a response soon. It’s killing me to be waiting this long. I’m hoping it happens..although I did spill my drink on her and hers along with it.” he replied a bit bummed out. His mother giggled covering her mouth. “ Hey, I'm serious,” he said. He spent time with her for the rest of the afternoon. 
Yesterday they received their email from your father. “ ALRIGHT LET'S GO!!!! I’M A TOTAL BADASS!!!!” Bakugou yelled. He won a date with a gorgeous and lovely young lady. “ Yes! I need to plan it out already.” shoto said. Those two opposite men replied within an hour on all the details they had planned out for the date. When your father told you the news you tired to compose yourself but fuck it. “ They're so blessed to have a chance with me.” you said with a smirk. “ Oh shut up y/n. You were so shy at the party. It took mom and dad to tell you to mingle.” Kaiji said smacking your head, ruining your hair. “Shut up I pulled 6 men in one night. You only got 4 women from the party. I win, sucker!” you replied. “ Don’t rub it in.” he replied smacking your head again. 
The following week Bakugou showed up at your doorstep and instead of roses and a necklace, he was holding Taylor swift Vinyls and Cassette. “ How do you know?” you asked to take the gifts he bought for you. “ After the party..you took out your phone. I saw your wallpaper, roses die within days and a necklace only fits some outfits. I'd rather buy you something you’d really like so here I am with merchandise.” he replied with a blush on his cheeks. He helped you set them on the table. “ I love it. It’s perfect.” you replied. - Yes. Hell yes. Nailed it.- he thought. He took you out to dinner. It was the best. Private rooms= eat however the hell you want and in comfort. “ You do eat a lot..” he said with his cheeks stained. You giggled and nodded pointing at his face. He was well aware his face was messy. “ You’re a messy eater.” you said. “ Yeah, well so are you dumb ass!.” he replied in anger. You both felt comfy. Normal. You guys can just be comfortable without judging each other. Once dinner was over you made sure your face and chest was clean. “ mhm your nose.” he told you and then cleaned it for you. You thought the day was over for you. Dinner was the only thing planned but what would you like to do?” he asked, turning on the car. “ There’s…an adoption center for animals about an hour away. They close late there.” you replied and he took the back roads to get there quickly. “ Do you like animals? Which ones?” he asked, making conversation. “ I love cats and snakes. They’re so adorable.I donate money every month to many adoption centers,people who need money for their sick pets and I visit a lot.” you replied. He smiled. You’re passionate about something and he liked that. “ I think that’s wonderful of you. I’d like to visit with you whenever I have the time. Is that alright?” he asked. “Yes. I’d love that Bakugou.” you replied leaning over as he pulled over and pecked his cheek. “Thank you for that gift,” he said. The time went on so fast that you arrived late. “ I said. 11pm. Not 2:34am.” your father told Bakugou sternly. “ Don’t dad. It’s my fault. I wa-” Bakugou cut you off. “ Yes sir, we got carried away, I’m sorry. I should’ve brought her home on time. I couldn't because she was so happy and so was I. I promise it won’t happen again.” he replied not really feeling sorry. “ 1st warning.” he replied walking back to his room with your mother. Kaiji, Kousuke,Kenshin and Kazuma were watching silently and discreetly from upstairs. Your brothers are stupid for doing that. “ You’re definitely planning our next day. I had so much fun where you wanted to go.” he said putting his number in your contact list. “ I had a great time with you Baku-” “ No. Katsuki.” he said. “ I had a great time with you Katsuki.” you said. He knew your older brothers were watching but he didn’t care if they were going to see what he’s about to do. He leaned in, taking a hold of your waist and kissed you. This is your very first kiss. You just relaxed yourself and followed him. Making out with him was sweet. He hummed as he pulled away. You giggled seeing your lipstick stain on him. “ Bye Beautiful. Sleep well.” he replied. “ Goodnight Katsuki. Sweet dreams.” you said. You closed the door and locked it. “ I cannot believe you made out with him on the 1st date!?” Kenshin said. “You guys saw that!!?” you asked loudly. “What about your other prince charming?” Kazuma  asked, crossing his arms. “ After the conversations in the car and at the beach..it's him. He’s the one.” you replied. “Oh please after one date.” Kaiji said, rolling his eyes. Kousuke the eldest and only married on understood. He saw the look in your eyes and the softness in your words. “Leave her alone and everyone go to bed.” Kousuke ordered. The rest of the brothers stayed silent. Kousuke is basically always teasing you so defending you like this is rare, so they took it into consideration that Bakugou is the one for you. 
Text Message
Y/n : Hey it's y/n. Thanks for tonight. You have your own ways of being such a kind, considerate, sweet man. Do you want to go on a date tomorrow? Well today?” 
Kats: Whatever…and yes I'll pick you up at 12pm. We will have more time to do anything. Now Sweet dreams.
Y/n: Sweet dreams. Ps. That was my 1st kiss/ Make out session. <3
Kats: glad to be your first. 
Lights out.
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vacationship · 3 days
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Sorry to do this guys… seriously big time TL;DR on the insanity of Rebecca’s predictions going nowhere. I stopped thinking about all this a long time ago but it’s coming back to me in a fever dream…
Remember when Rebecca went to the psychic and then all the signs starting with the green matchbook happened to her? And the signs came during encounters with two previous and one new love interest but these male characters subliminally or subtextually pointed to Ted?
Sam hands her the green matchbook for Ola’s and Rebecca is stroking it intently back and forth just under the letters as she’s trying to “read” the sign and then you realize you can REARRANGE the letters Ola’s -> Las’o?
Which you could maybe shrug off as coincidental except then…
She runs into John Wingsnight and he comes through with the Shite in Nining Armor prediction which calls back to Ted white knighting for Rebecca, but even more subliminally is the fact that John’s Manchester United scarf shows MAN then gets REARRANGED mid scene to show TED and then back again to MAN? (THEY TOOK THE TIME TO REARRANGE THE SCARF, TWICE.) And John who’s literally wearing the sign that Ted is the Man is talking about meeting the right person, his fiancée, a call back to Rebecca breaking up with John because she realizes how she really wants to feel with her right person, safe and trusting?
And the psychic was wearing army green and Rebecca finds in her purse the green soldier that Ted gave her to help her feel protected and safe stuck INSIDE the Ola’s (Lasso) green matchbook?
Is this not unhinged levels of endgame hints?
And then Ted takes out his matchbook from his pocket along with red and blue magnets? So they both still have the matchbook in their purse/pocket, such a personal private space, and each also have another item that also feels really personal and significant? The army man and freakin’ magnets? And there’s all these scenes with Ted and Rebecca with red and blue, like the magnets? And they’re MAGNETS but somehow not sticking together (two magnets in a pocket would definitely find each other) but this shows how they aren’t aware of how they fit yet? How they are soulmates? How they don’t know about their important matching date where they each experienced trauma? And Ted says how he has to bring these magnets back to work, his office, which is where he magnetically connected with Rebecca? She confesses, he forgives, she livens up the place? They hug in an embrace tight as magnets? And they were magnetically drawn to each other in the hallway at work when they each psychically picked up on what was going on for the other one?
And then Rebecca falls into the canal as predicted but is “safe” with the boat guy and he sings Kenny Roger’s just like Ted does? And there a few other parallels with Boat Guy/Ted? And meanwhile Ted is trying to reach her, and clearly misses her, but her phone is in the canal so Ted ends up on a little inner journey with himself and realizes he misses Kansas and his son but also figures out a soccer philosophy which he hopes will help him “win the whole thing” as he promised Rebecca? And when they reunite on the bus at the end they are both grinning ear to ear, maybe for different reasons, but the subtext is that each found their mojo again, their magnetism? And Beard sitting with them with a lightening suit on, matching the prediction from the psychic about thunder and lightening but also Roy telling Rebecca she should expect feeling struck by lightening with a romantic partner? Beard in the lightening suit is clocking what’s happening with Rebecca, that’s she’s been with a man and seems struck by lightening? But boat guy made her feel how Ted makes her feel?! But she was able to loosen up more with stranger guy but she looks at Ted and sings Everything Is Going To Be Alright? But what about the thunder? Is the thunder Ted, because Beard is def silently communicating with his best friend about Rebecca, showing us that Beard thinks Ted needs to pay attention to Rebecca?
To a human on earth lightening seems to come first, then the thunder, because sound travels slower than light. So thunder is still coming…Ted? And you can’t have thunder without lightning? Thunder tells you how close the lightening is. If you don’t hear thunder the lightening is very far away. Why is the thunder missing? Because Ted is still so far away from Rebecca? All of this was so meticulous, don’t tell me the thunder part of the prediction didn’t mean anything? The psychic said Thunder and Lightening and every other thing happened explicitly.
BONUS: And then remember how Ted ends up at Rebecca’s house due to a gas leak the night of the day he told her he was leaving, which leads back to Rebecca’s OWN prediction when she enters the psychic’s office and smells a funny smell? (This happens with psychics, your own latent abilities can turn on.) Plus Ted’s gas leak/fart joke about Beard, and his previous adorable fart song? Heart bent in my apartment because all you left was your fart scent? Gas leak, fart scent, apartment, get it? These are SNL guys remember? Did they seriously make a heartbreak song also about farts? Anyway, Rebecca always thinks Ted is funny? And she is heart bent that he’s leaving? They both are?
And this is just the prediction stuff? NUMEROUS other romcom parallels, signs, clues, tropes, whatever you want to call them, that Ted and Rebecca were going to turn around and see each other ACTUALLY HAPPENED?
And when his mother comes she makes a comment that Ted was FATED to live in England and she fluffs up his apartment with pillows and whatever else to make it more like home. Kansas and BBQ sauce may have been his home but the biscuits he makes for Rebecca reminds her of home, and it’s implied that for Ted, making biscuits for Rebecca and bringing them to her everyday was making Rebecca his home in Richmond. Where do you want to go each day when you are sad and lost and figuring yourself out? Home. So he devises a way to give Rebecca her home feeling while creating a home for himself with her. And his mom seemed to think he belonged there? And she never told him to go back to Kansas, she just said his son misses him? And his son loved visiting, loved soccer, and “has it covered” with training the men while Ted is up in Rebecca’s office and there’s that CRAZY shot of their hands meeting, framed perfectly by the circle of her purse handles as he gives her the biscuits, but anyway back to his son, it’s implied that he has a significant sense of belonging in Richmond, too? And in the last episode Ted ends up in Rebecca’s HOME? Right after the tv announcer says “he should have stayed with Rebecca. Now that was a power couple”? (I know it’s about Rupert but I’m sorry that was about Ted.)
I just like don’t know why they had to do this. This was so unhinged of them. And to say they didn’t enthusiastically consider the ship? You did all this!
@dollsome-does-tumblr @roamwithahungryheart @pinkboxess
@kdbleu
No need to respond just tagging a few of y’all that I’ve seen on here recently
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virgothozul · 3 months
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I-
hum.
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herebecritters · 3 months
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Please understand that, more often than not, works of fiction are a fictional exploration of concepts and ideas rather than a declaration of morality
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carpathxanridge · 25 days
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what’s so funny is this spirituality drama was started by a person that basically posted “i don’t understand why some radical feminists don’t believe in witchcraft or don’t even show an interest in it” on the website of literalist blunt skeptical women who read the words “i don’t understand” and go “ok let me explain.” and then upon receiving a bunch of answers explaining exactly why many of us are critical of spirituality, was like “wow they’re attacking my beliefs, they don’t get what spirituality means to ME” when yall are the ones saying you literally think it is sad and closed-minded for us to not entertain spirituality in our OWN feminism and personal belief systems, and making all of these masturbatory posts about how uniquely enlightened you are because of your spirituality. and then you go on wondering why so many of us hate “woo woo” shit
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dreamyprinx · 1 year
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I bring to you, actual art but it’s me trying to replicate my friend @spaceshmuck’s art style
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#whimsy whispers#crystalart.png#others ocs#strand von zarovich#curse of strand#space tag#GOD this was so difficult and I don’t even feel like I did that good a job but it was also fun#also hi I’m not gonna shut up about my art program crashing and this corrupting right as I was almost finished with it I need people to know#that the universe tried to stop this from existing >:| I did not spend hours going ‘is this how it would draw hands’ and cursing myself for#the damn art to not see the light of day#anyways please look at my friends art it’s SO good like god I’m jealous of its art style and character designs >:’)#like literally such lovely art y’all will check it out because I said so and my word is like law or whatever#I’m like writing these at 4:25zm on a Monday and like this won’t even be posted for another week or so but like#sorry if I’m especially stupid rn I didn’t wanna go to sleep yet so I’m saving drafts and listening to off the wall magical! on loop#y’all should also check out junie & thehutfriends because I find their music fun#just listen to me when I tell you to look at ppls art because I have good taste okay? you can trust me I’m holding your hand and we’re going#to have fun I prommy#also please do not talk about the background it was one of the things I was gonna work on when the art program crashed#the only thing I fixed after that was minor mistakes like not colouring in buttons#anyways ily pretty vampire man and ily my dear friend who’s art style vexes me 💖
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seilon · 2 months
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more and more it makes me kind of uncomfortable (for lack of a better/softer word) to call my own characters ‘ocs’. because like. they’re from a completely original universe and from completely original intertwined stories and all that. so why would i have to specify they’re original in the same way someone would when referring to a character they made for a pre-existing non-original universe/franchise/whatever? by that logic every fiction author ever would be referring to their characters as ocs rather than just. their characters. you know.
#i guess you could say it’s different or something because I haven’t published any one Solid Official Work yet or anything but.#I don’t think that particularly matters? cause then you just get into policing what does and doesn’t count as Real and Official and that#inevitably doesn’t do anything good#idk man I know the term Original Character isn’t technically incorrect in my case but. I just feel like that term was created to separate#fandom creations from their source’s canon. or maybe to describe characters that don’t come from any particular established universe#or story at all (fandom or otherwise).#cause otherwise. why shouldn’t I just be calling them my characters. the characters from my universe and my works. which are#established and incorporated. it’s definitely not properly organized or set up for true publication (at least not yet. definitely possible#I’ll publish something as a consumable structured thing someday)#you just don’t hear established authors calling their characters ocs. because why should they? the original part is sort of a given.#hopefully anyway#anywayyuyyyyyyeuyyyhh sorry this is not important just has been on my mind the last few weeks or few months or more#kibumblabs#I guess there’s also a difference maybe between making characters for the sake of making characters- and those being ocs- versus#characters that are developed as part of a larger work/story#I definitely feel like there’s a difference between the two and how they should be labelled (but im not saying one is more valid than the#other or anything like that.)#like when I see a poll that’s like ‘how many ocs do you have’ I just kinda sit there cause that question. doesn’t make sense in#my situation at all. because it’s the same as asking the author of a fiction novel that question. what do I count as my ‘oc’#would that mean my primary characters? or vaguely my primary and secondaryish ones? or do you mean every single character mentioned#regardless of importance or prevalence? every single named parent or grandparent or boss or childhood friend or one night stand or etc etc#I feel like it’s weird to call those characters ‘ocs’ in the way the question is implying. but then what DOES count? it just doesn’t make#sense for something like this. right? it irks me a little
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compacflt · 10 months
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hey! seeing your post about iceman and hamilton reminded me of the 1812 au that you had posted about previously - do you mind sharing any of your thoughts on that, specifically Ice & Mav's reactions to the politics of war back then, before the US military and Navy were such huge institutions (in today's standards)? EDTS Ice & Mav are decidedly anti-war (more Ice than Mav I think), but would that same sentiment be true for them back then & how would Ice feel about war hawks like Calhoun & Clay? there's obviously a pretty big role that war plays in forming national identity, especially in early US history, and with external forces like impressment & embargoes & all of the international relations nightmares that came w/ early state building, I'm really interested in how that may have an impact on how Ice and Mav view military service and duty. I would love to read this fic if you're still planning on writing it (really I love to read everything that you write tbh) - also hope you are doing well!! 😊😊
hiya!! i hope you are also doing well!! I am not sure if im ever going to post the 1812 au to be honest—i would really love to but i think it would be so long it would have to be my first priority for a few months, and I’m not sure when I’d have time to do that. but i have it all planned out at least, so maybe we can compare notes.
So here are my notes.
IF i were to complete my 1812 AU… It would not be about Ice at all. Which is how I’d be able to stomach writing about Ice’s death. AND the characters would be very very different from the characters i wrote about in EDTS (i.e. confessed their love for each other way back in the 1770s). And what I want to tackle in this AU is exactly what your ask is about—duty to your fledgling country! Im interested in a version of TGM maverick who had to be away from the love of his life, on his deathbed, to serve the national interests of his country. *questionable* national interests, in TGM’s case, or *forgettable* national interests in the War of 1812’s case. The War of 1812 is sort of America’s forgotten war—its causes were nebulous & hard to rally around/understand today, and there were no real heroes until the end, unless if you count Andrew Jackson as a hero (i really try not to). So this would be a direct attack on the heroism we are presented with in TGM: what is mavericks mission really accomplishing in the grand scheme of things? Using the 1812 war, itself forgotten and largely irrelevant, as a meta backdrop for that question of heroism.
So—this version of Ice & Mav are: actual factual war heroes. Revolutionary war heroes who were genuinely educated & truly believed in the American experiment of representation & freedom from tyranny. Fighting the British 36 years apart. (Something i really really like & will take advantage of… the 36 years between 1776 and 1812 exactly equaling the 36 years between 1986 and 2022… it was meant to be.) They’ve spent their whole lives together in the romantic sense, in a world where they couldn’t live openly together but at a time when sexuality was also understood completely differently. But they have to be apart when Ice is dying because Maverick has been handed a mission, a duty, by the USG that he has to take care of. (Part of the reason I’m stalling on this project is because I don’t really know what that mission would be… something something naval warfare, something something Captain of the “USS Dagger…” but im a better romance writer than an action writer… idk how to come up with those plots at all. And I’m not super well-versed in EARLY naval warfare [I prefer wwii navy stuff] so idk how ships like sailed clippers & schooners etc actually work. That’s a completely different wheelhouse for me & is integral to a story like this, and fundamentally im kind of a lazy person who doesn’t put a lot of effort into research if I don’t have to)
the AU would be written in two parts—the warm summer of youth vs cold winter of old age. Confronting my own fear as an author of getting old & dying, tbh. What does it mean to be a hero and die of old age? Shouldn’t you want to die WHILE being a hero? Part one: 1776-1782 is… ice & maverick falling in love and dealing with goose’s death together and cementing their hero status in American naval history (like they do in the original top gun). Then part 2; 1812/1813… ice is retired from being the first USN commodore/secretary, but he’s dying and maverick has to choose between being with his de facto husband in his last days VERSUS being out at sea, serving his country, but for a war that he (a bit metaphysically, to serve my metaphorical aims) knows will be forgotten. He can be a hero or he can be there for the love of his life but he can’t do both. Duty & sacrifice. Ice persuades him it’s time to let go, maverick goes out to sea, and then ice dies while he’s at sea. & the 1812 war was kind of forgotten, and their love will never be known by history because they were two men, so what was that sacrifice really for? Shouldn’t he have been home with ice?
Which leads me to: I am also slightly interested in an interpretation of the TGM mission as a possible su*cide attempt on mav’s part, post-ice’s death. Trying to die a hero. So, there’s that. That would be in it as well.
Some issues: that’s pretty simple & i submitted a 4k short story with this exact premise (1776 war hero has to choose between one last shot at heroism in 1812 vs staying with his male lover at the end of his life) to one of my writing workshops last semester and they loved it. But, by god, does it get 10x more complicated once you add Bradley to the mix. It’s ALWAYS made it more complicated & it’s why I’ve had so much pain trying to edit EDTS over the last 8 months (as you know). Because LETS PLEASE BE REAL TGM did NOT give me much to go on there. Like the emotional turn that is I think SUPPOSED to happen in the scene where ice and mav talk in TGM—I don’t understand it & I think that scene was only written for fanservice because it serves no purpose in the story and I’m not sure what emotion we’re supposed to take away from it. Maverick says “please send me ice, don’t ask me to send someone else to die,” (is he asking ice’s permission??) and ice DOESNT actually answer that request, doesn’t even acknowledge it; he says, in a COMPLETE AND UTTER NON SEQUITUR, “It’s time to let go.” Maverick says, “yeah I know,” so what does that actually mean? Who is he letting go??? Bradley??? Goose??? ice himself??? Is ice giving mav permission to go or not???? It’s so vague it means absolutely nothing, and i have no idea what ice’s emotional/story purpose in TGM is except to bail mav out of sticky situations and nostalgia purposes, and don’t even get me STARTED on how out-of-character it was for MAVERICK (guy who hates having his papers pulled from the Academy) to pull Bradley’s papers from the Academy in TGM, both of which are why ive struggled so much trying to fit Ice into the mav/Bradley narrative of betrayal & loss etc. And in a two-shot piece where all those years in between are kind of skipped over… idk. I feel like I would sort of have to sacrifice the Bradley storyline for the overarching icemav duty-sacrifice-heroism theme. With WWGATTAI, i was KIND of able to do both, but only after MULTIPLE rounds of very very intense editing & like 50k words of rewrites and even then it’s kind of awkward so… idk. For a quick two-shot like this I’d have to pick. I don’t have the energy to write another 50-100k reinterpreting that story all over again lol
So to answer your question it would be way less about the actual weird politics of the 1812 war and more about providing a place for me to get into mav’s emotions dealing with ice’s death and the historical implications of a mission like that, kind of glossed over in the movie … though this ice & mav are veterans of the XYZ affair / battles with the Tripoli pirates, so that probably affects how they see things… but mostly, duty is still duty & orders are still orders, but sometimes following orders means sacrificing what little time left you have with your family… following the TGM timeline where ice only has about 2 weeks left to live from Mach 9.
So, pros of the 1812 au: lots of the purple prose poetic writing i shamefully really like. Icemav open and honest with each other from the very start ❤️. Dealing with the themes and emotional consequences of ice’s death finally. Focusing only on mav instead of only on ice. Penny & sarah in a lesbian relationship. Some discussion of the cyclical nature of queer history (i.e. we’ve always been here making history and we always will be). Mav finding reasons to live after ice is gone.
Cons of the 1812 au and why I’m hesitant to really get invested in writing it: don’t know much about pre-diesel naval warfare so can’t come up with the technical action elements of the plot & too lazy to do that much research. I have a sailing license, so I know like… knots and rigging and mainsail vs jib/genoa/spinnaker and sloop vs schooner etc, but i do NOT know anything about THAT kind of sailing. Warship sailing, tactics, “dogfighting” equivalents, etc. Also: would probably have to sacrifice the whole “getting Bradley kicked out of the academy-equivalent” storyline, just to make the story less complicated. Not sure how much of the original ice and maverick the story would retain as a result. Also: i know wayyy more about the early national period (1776-1800) than anything after about 1808, but even then the last time i was really into this period of history was my freshman year of high school, so i can’t necessarily claim to know what im talking about when it comes to the intricacies of the early American state (as i think is pretty obvious here). Also too lazy to do that much research.
But, here are some notes/snippets etc if you would like. they’re solidly 6 months old now & unedited & largely unresearched, just throwing words on the wall in writing phase one, but whatever
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