#I lovee seeing song posts I love MAKING song posts I simply cannot help myself | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

randombush3 · 1 year

Text

The Best Part

summary: here’s a fic based on her song ‘the best part’.

words: 863

warnings: this is about death so do with that what you will.

notes: i don’t know why i haven’t posted, and i don’t really have any excuse to give you. i’m working on things, just slowly. really fucking slowly. but flo released music and i couldn’t help myself. lots of love!

There is no specific memory of you linked to today. No story in particular that she can recall, that she can tell someone about so they can vividly experience it with her, make her feel less alone. In fact, this is the case with most days — times she cannot shake you off for it is simply your existence that she misses; the comforting thought that you are alive. It makes what she knows, what she seems to constantly be reminded of, worse.

She has tried. For the past three years, the past one-thousand one-hundred and twelve days, she has tried to forget slightly. You don’t seem to leave her alone — typical. You sit beside her on trains, whispering in her ear. You mock her when she rehearses her scenes in the living room alone, running her lines for her, telling her how you would have said it. There are times when she can feel your lips against her neck, your fingers brushing hers.

No, she can’t shake you off at all. Neither can she tell whether it hurts or it helps. Your presence is her imagination, but if she convinces herself, she kids that nothing ever happened. You are alive, you are just away. Somewhere unreachable; a desert island with no mobile phone, off on one of your silly expeditions that you claim deepen your understanding of the world around you.

Tonight, she dares to sprawl out on the bed. It feels juvenile, like how she would have slept before meeting you. Before she had to put up with your insistence of sharing a bed equally (‘this me:you ratio will not fly, Mrs Pugh’). Is this what acceptance is? Allowing herself to break one of your rules because you are not there to enforce them?

It doesn’t seem to make a difference, anyway. All the things you said sleep in her head with her. You wake up at the same time now — of course that only happens when you are dead.

Maybe this is the curse she has. Yours was obviously the fact that you died. Her misfortune is to be the one still standing, only this time with no one beside her. Her life is the one that is resigned to waiting until she can see you again, the one that forces her to believe in an afterlife just in case it gives her one more chance to… Who is she kidding? Her therapist says if she thinks her life is just about prolonging her death, then she should reevaluate. Flo did think to make the point that that is exactly what she is there for, but the woman charges by the hour and she would rather spend the money on an additional series of another random TV show you may have liked to watch.

Everything just hurts.

She is fucked. She would not recommend falling in love, because the person you build a life with can just fuck right off the face of the Earth at any given moment. She regrets ever feeling a love like the two of you had shared.

Your pillow smells nothing like you. She is three years too late to have her face buried in it. Tonight, you are not beside her, not keeping her company, not even in her imagination. The bed is full, but with only one person. She fears she has gotten rid of your memory by stretching out, and, horrified, retracts her limbs. Rolling over onto her side, she feels your arm around her waist. Your nose presses against her head, you breathe her in.

She would give anything to have you do that one last time. To know that it was the final goodbye, to be able to rehearse it, would surely make her feel better. Something like closure.

As she drifts off, she parts her lips, tongue running along them, wetting them. A force of habit, three words prod at her to be spoken. But she won’t say it if you don’t say it. If you were beside her one last time, she would beg you not to say it. If you were here now, a ghostly apparition, she would cover your mouth with her hand because if you said ‘I love you still’, she would fall to pieces and never get up again.

Seven days later. You have now been dead one-thousand one-hundred and nineteen days. She has revisited this idea of seeing you one last time. She wonders what she would say. Thank you for the best parts? Maybe she would apologise for her weak heart. You would find this hilarious, how miserable she has become. You would provoke her, taunt her, and she would get defensive, say something like ‘my love just hurts when loving’. You would relish in the scowl she would give when you laughed in her face. You are — were — the worst.

You are — were — her life.

You were the best part.

She opens her mouth as she closes her eyes. She is determined to get used to filling the bed. She is going to compromise.

“Fuck you for dying, Y/n,” she whispers into the darkness. “You know I love you still.”

tags: @pewpughpew @ridleypugh @jeyramarie @flosbelova @kassies-take @delfiore @yelenabelovasbxtch @xsophiesx @slut4milfs69 @sunshadesnrainbowz @karsonromanoff

#florence pugh fanfiction #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh imagine #florence pugh x you #florence pugh #florence pugh one shot #florence pugh x y/n #florence pugh angst #a good person #the best part #songfic

91 notes · View notes

moregraceful · 1 year

Text

plantpostin'...this isn't a livejournal post but spiritually, it is adjacent

ANYWAY i started my pollinator container garden today despite morale being in the dang gutter. the man at the plant nursery was very helpful and told me if i come back next month they'll have a lot more native plants and more pollinators. i will be returning! i want more plants! sadly sticking my hands in dirt for an hour in the afternoon did make me feel a little better >:/

today i bought twelve iceland poppies, two rosemarys and two lavenders. i forget what the lavenders are. planted the big lavender in the big pot and the rosemarys and other lavender in medium pots. planted ten of the poppies in medium and little pots before i ran out of pots. i'm trying fertilizer this year which i have never tried before but since a lot of this dirt is old, i figured it would be better for the plants. also have never used fertilizer and it's entirely possible this is why my container gardens died always. (in addition to atmospheric rivers and being generally very bad at taking care of outdoor plants.) terrified that i did the fertilizer wrong and all my plants are going to eat themselves to death or explode.

i discovered while poking the rest of my containers that my peppermints, jack campbell jr and mars jr, had not died over winter as i thought but had in fact reproduced, so the asexuals win again! my jade plant (nico) and his baby offshoots survived the winter somehow, despite me being so neglectful i should be mandated reporting myself to plant protective services. except then i repotted him and now i have: fear. sure hope nico and his babies did not survive an atmospheric river just to die by being stuck in a slightly larger pot. the succulent garden (the 2019 draft class) is bouncing back slowly after winter but i'm less worried abt them, they always find their way.

i named the poppies the 2020 draft class (if they die they die, if they live i get to see bees) and the rosemarys are ella and lorna (fear that they die but hopefully i get to cook with them someday). i'm very concerned i didn't give my big lavender enough dirt or fertilizer but i'm naming her mercy and the little lavender midnight bc i was listening to a needtobreathe live album while grumpily digging holes, and my favorite song off it was "mercy's shore", which they intro'd by singing "let the midnight special shine a light on me". (i simply cannot google this band in order to remain blissfully unaware of what their politics are.) if mercy and midnight die...well at least my patio smelled nice for a little bit.

i cleaned up and went inside and as i was writing this i saw some birds poking around. my friend who used to live in this building said she used to see a lot of hummingbirds on her balcony, so i think i will get a hummingbird feeder or two when it's warmer. i would love to get a birdfeeder but my dog is an instigator and i don't want to invite chaos into my patio just bc i want to see a sparrow. but i think hummingbirds are small enough that if i hung feeders up high my dog would simply not notice. (he never thinks to look up.)

i do think i may need to look into getting a shelf or a small table or something bc the 2020 draft class is all on the ground and sometimes my dog likes to chase bees and i don't want to create a like. atmosphere of fear for the pollinators. i realize i am maybe the only person in the world who is concerned about the emotional well-being of bees and butterflies but [finger guns] that's what happens when you have big feelings and not enough outlets to put them in. my therapist told me to start journaling to make my brain quiet and instead i'm out here developing parasocial relationships to bees i haven't met yet and worrying about a jade plant i named after a hockey player. so it goes.

i used to do positive posts when i was super depressed and i can't do that again bc it was getting a little too doxxable, but unfortunately writing all this out also made me feel better, so the plantposting will continue...thank you for witnessing.

also if i get any butterflies, i will take pictures to show you all.

#jack campbell jr and mars jr #<- plantposting tag for blacklisting #fresno oilers.txt

22 notes · View notes

l-vd-laar · 2 months

Text

Change A Winning Team and Reap The Consequences - TANGK Album Review

Badda badda bing, who is the king!? Joe Talbot definitely holds down the throne when it comes to catchy slogans.

In February the (post-)punk band IDLES released their fifth studio album TANGK. The Bristol group has gained a reputation of being loud, outspoken, and somewhat of a riot. I had the pleasure of seeing the magic of the unhinged live in De Melkweg in 2022. Their ear-crushing, distortion soaked, drumbeat driven, comical and socially aware repertoire blew the roof of the iconic Amsterdam venue. Imagine this energy fueled by a crowd that had just been released from the Covid-19 quarantine dreariness and you got the picture. Sparks generated from electrolytes, flung across the room as they were catapulted from the sweaty arms that flailed among the crowd. This was my introduction to IDLES, so naturally I was excited to see the announcement of their new album. However, with reluctance I have to say I was somewhat disappointed – where did all the energy go?

The previous 2021 release CRAWLER already showed us that Talbot’s rambunctious vocals are suited for more than just rough hard-headed punk. The opening track “MTT 420 RR” features his softer husky sound to recall the traumatic experience of a drug fueled car accident. A song that rang through my spine, as much as it did through his. But the album also granted us energetic insanity such as “The Wheel”. This shows that the band can certainly handle a broader range of energy and style in their discography. So what happened on TANGK?

Photograph by Aris Chatman, IDLES, 2023.

Essentially, it becomes clear from various interviews that the band wanted to move on from troubled pasts and focus on the love instead of anger. This is in fact very valid and I applaud that they embraced a more positive attitude towards life. However, it seems adulthood is kind of a damper on the sharp eye that made them relatable.

Joe Talbot is somewhat of a lyrical genius, having a knack for finding the balance between confrontational social observations and a shocking sloganesque sense of humor. Producing pearls such as “I’m sorry your granddad’s dead – aahaaaha – lovely spread” on “Gram rock” and “Me, oh me, oh my, Roy. You look like a walking thyroid” on “Never fight A Man with a Perm”. And there has not been one moment on TANGK where I either felt the intensity of CRAWLER’s “MTT 420 RR” or found myself giggling like I did at the image of a walking gland. Except maybe on the track “Roy”, that features the most horrible guitar riff combined with rather lovely vocals. Yet, the song carries a seriousness and heaviness that takes away the humor in that awful guitar sound.

On TANGK the band collaborated with Radiohead producer Nigel Godrich and Kenny Beats, who was also involved on Ultramono. And I cannot help but feel like Godrich’s influence seems to have taken over, which makes it feel like they’ve dressed up a street kid in a fancy outfit and started calling him sir. Make a deal with the devil and you pay the price. In this case the beautiful and subtle piano on the album’s fifth track “A Gospel”, seems to be paid for by the wittiness that carried the lyrics. This track showcases the band’s new direction through an imposing ballroom reverb guitar soundscape with additional carefully placed detail. Sonically it is very pleasing. However, the focus on Talbot’s poetry seems to have been lost, hereby removing a part of the backbone that carried the band throughout the years.

Where Talbot’s lyrical escapades may have taken a backseat, there were always the bursts of aggressive guitar to pick up the slack. But these rough edges apparently also needed to be smoothed out. Tracks such as “Jungle” and “Dancer” hint at what could have been, but they simply don’t seem to reach the potential to scratch that auditory itch. “Gift Horse” and “Hall & Oats” come closer to fulfilling this satisfaction, but once again the lack of teamwork between vocals and instrumentals make it difficult for the song to bring on that feeling of wanting to punch a wall out of excitement. “IDEA 01” provided us with an unintentional shout-out to the 2013 Bastille hit. What exactly did we loose in the fire, Talbot? The introduction of the song certainly catches a mood, but this cord is cut as soon as the vocals join in.

It’s these kind of lyrical clichés throughout the album that ignite a feeling of disappointment. This in combination with the flattening out of their rough sound makes the album very anti-climactic. Talbot mentioned in an interview that a masterworks such as Radiohead’s Kid A always seemed unattainable, but that it turned out that you just need the right producer… I have to disagree. There has to be a certain match between reality and vision. IDLES had a vision, but forgot to check their reality. The reality that their strength lies in the energy they generate with sudden rough-edged outbursts, may it be guitars, synth, drums or catchy slogans. Ending your album with a singled out sax and bird noises does not make you Radiohead… If only.

#To The Bone Reviews

0 notes

theblazewolf · 5 months

Text

everyone wins and loses. its a fact of life.

but its been a tough ride this 2023 and it actually drains me to make a retrospective.

yes, looking at the good stuff objectively, ive done more than i couldve asked for. for the life of me i still dont know how i got more than a thousand likes on two paintings i didnt think would ever get seen. (simply proves to me that sometimes, social media is mainly RNG in disguise)

ive managed to maintain a consistent schedule of posting art; any art. quality may vary but that can be sorted in the near future. also ended up setting up a condo unit, drove by myself for the first time, attended my first furry convention since the pandemic.

once, for once, i was happier than ever being by myself. all that time alone was what i needed.

and im currently making a zine, and maybe other projects beyond that.

all things being objective, it was a good year.

i cannot forget the ones ive lost; the ones whose loss shaded this year.

my ex, my best friend, who i had to cut ties with, admittedly the source of my melancholy, drunken texts, and attempts at being civil, deep inside i find myself yearning for those days when it was okay for us to be idiots at 3am talking about dumb shit. but you find yourself watching the ties you set up slowly deteriorate, and nothing you do can fix it. seven years were way too long somehow. i still see them, but i know enough just to be civil, or to talk whenever youre needed.

my uncle, my mom’s older brother. my heart still breaks knowing he suffered a long illness. while we try to sing songs that he loved, we know the bitter taste of loss that cant be washed away in an instant. he was a staple at many parties that will never be the same again. i wish he saw his daughter graduate, or enter law school. i wish he lived long enough to be free of pain for just one day.

and my good friend, my fellow cities skylines 2/mekanism enthusiast; one of my ardent supporters. the voice calls will always have an empty spot for you. i will never let your tragic end overshadow the texts we had. I will live till im 30, and beyond. ive said a lot about you since your passing. somehow i still wish i was there to let you know we love you so much. take your rest, and let us know you’re ok.

also honorable mentions to budding relationships i tried to build but failed, another commissioner of mine who passed this year in the same week as my uncle.

i cant leave this year without thanking others.

my close friends, for listening to me scream and yap for 24/7 with unfiltered blazethoughts, and also reciprocating by screaming and yapping for 24/7 about yalls respective thoughts. thats friendship thats unbreakable.

my server, for being equally insane. all you 90% filipino/10% other people are so insane for accepting my invite to come and see me talk about random shit that god can’t allow. im overreacting when i say god wont allow what i say. but having a bunch of furry pals in one area is a luxury.

my gw2 guild, BURN, for the endless voice chats, helping me sort through the grief, the support and all the insanity you allowed this little lonely disaster entertain. i know we lost a lot, but we have much more to live for together.

my follows who have grown a LOT this year. your support keeps me going through and through. i love you guys.

see you in 2024.

-blaze

#theblazewolfspeaks #happy new year

1 note · View note

vangoghingdavinci · 10 months

Text

7.30.23

Yes, I blocked, unblocked, blocked, unblocked you... I was crazy, I am crazy... and I am sorry.

When you left and ended us... I thought I will be okey, that I'll easily let go and recover... but I found myself in your account liking old posts after posts after posts... then I find myself crying... wanting to reach out to you... then I was at the loveshack hoping to see you or your footprints... but you left...

Leo... writing this now makes me cry again... I felt that I was not told the reason why you had to leave... you said it's V, it's F... it's S it's I... I understood that... but then you followed Crystal, then posted a photo for Larisa #furdich... then you never replied at my messages at my emails... you said I had a friend in you...

I know why... and I'm sorry, I'm terribly sorry, I burned the loveshack... that was yours...

whatever I say, I know you'll never forgive me for that...

and I'll die wondering what really happened that made you leave... what have I done that made you go so fast and forget me so fast

but I pray that the heavens will help me... get over you... I have fallen so deep Leo... I did not know it will be like this for me...

I lost myself, I lost my pride... like nothing... I lost everything in me...

I truly want to forget you, I want to forget myself when I was with you.

I want that memory deleted because it's the memories that are killing me Leo... Can you imagine the extent of what I' going through? I love you so much, I still love you, despite your rejection, your crystal, your larisa...I still love you and the memories keep coming back... and I cannot be with you...

Leo, how I wish we can talk one last time, really talk, I want to see you... tell me what I did... tell me why you didn't even see me to end us... tell me why... tell why it was so easy for you to fall out of love...

Leo, you said you loved me... and I loved loving you intensely... I love you so much... I know we cannot be together but I love you still... Leo... you shouldn't have started it when you only want to end it...

March 14, 2023, almost five months ago... but I think it ended in February already... even January when I started to feel your distance... you simply just became different... but despite the pain I held on... then you... you just ended it... at the loveshack...

Leo, I want to stop crying...

Leo, I want to just die

and your songs on Spotify... yes, I stalk... and maybe that's why I cannot get over you... your songs on spotify... who are you sharing those now?... Somewhere only we know--who do you share that song with? ... I deleted spotify app...and IG app on my phone... I hope I won't install again... they remind me so much of you...

Leo...I just want to end all these pain... it's hard waking up... especially when I realize I'm still alive and memories of you just rush back when I realize I'm still alive...

I truly want to end all these pain...

But I have to live for my family....

I wonder why our paths had to cross when it shouldn't have... when there's no need for it...

I'll leave it here for now... and everytime I feel like reaching out to you... I'll come back here...

i wonder who you think now with these songs?... I hope time will come when nothing matters anymore... your songs, crystal, larisa, they won't matter anymore... and my pain won't matter anymore...

who is this song for now Leo?

0 notes

snellyboi · 2 years

Text

Ideas for the Owl House Musical

Dana Terrace has gone on record as saying “No, there won’t be a musical episode” or...something along those lines. But my failed musical composition career makes me uniquely qualified to Armchair-Sondheim my way through a score for an Owl House musical. Below the cut you can see some titles and liner notes! But it’s a long post so I’ll be adding a cut for convenience.

Oh, and if you have song ideas, feel free to add them on! Also, ask for permission before doing any arrangements/sketches of these ideas, simply put I may be using them as fan material in the future, ESPECIALLY the Hunter ones.

SERIOUS NUMBERS:

These are the showstoppers. The ones that get played all the time on Sirius XM’s On Broadway, between Seth and Christine talking about, like...Andrew Rannells’ dog or whatever. The stuff that gets performed at every student recital, that’s sung in every audition after the show gets nominated for a Tony. Hell, one of these songs is probably what they sing AT the Tonies!

Mother (Luz, Camila, Vee): What musical that has anything to do with a mom is complete without a song about moms? Sung when Luz is fading away from contact with her mother - Probably an act ending or something like that.

I Cannot Be Her (Lilith, Edalyn): A more serious take on a song we’ll discuss later, but that is basically Lilith and Edalyn discussing their past problems with each other, and both of them wanting to go back to the way it used to be (Hence not being able to be “Her” - a younger version of the self).

The Stars Outside my Window (Hunter): A soft, tearful, baritone-led, intimate number, dripping with melodramatic strings. A lamentation for his upbringing, specifically the @nadacwriter idea of his upbringing as Lilith’s long lost son, as he clutches Rascal close to his chest. Great for reprises when he falls in love with Willow (YEAH I SAID IT) and when he confronts Belos. That last reprise makes for a GREAT 11 o’clock number.

COMIC IDEAS:

Songs that are there not only to help beef up the count, but also to help keep things from being dower ALL the time. They also help sell tickets and work better in marketing material, and hey, they’re fun to play and fun to sing. Nothing wrong with a simple little tune here and there!

The Best there Ever Was (Gus): ...Gus is fucking awesome, that’s the song. The lead in is him showing off his illusion skills. Great excuse for a dance number but an even better excuse for Gus to be Gus. Who doesn’t love Gus? If there wasn’t an obligation to have other characters involved it’d just be a whole 2 hours of Gus!

I’m Proud of Myself (Because Mama Never Was) (Edalyn, King): Duet where they both talk about how they think they’re great, in spite of parental trauma™. Good stuff.

It Won’t Make me Love You (Amity, Luz, Ensemble): Every romance has at least one song where the leads say “I’m not falling for you, honest!” and then they IMMEDIATELY fall for one another. It’s just the sort of thing a show needs! Fans eat that stuff up and it becomes immediate undergraduate recital fuel - make sure to clinch the rights on that one before it gets to Musescore or IMSLP, though!

ROMANCE NUMBERS:

C’mon. Gotta have a love song. It’s a musical!

A Feeling I Just Never Knew (Luz, Amity): The big Lumity song. Softer, slow ballad, probably a slow groove to it. A bit more light hearted and fun, no ‘Music of the Night’ stuff here. More like Dancing Through Life, but less insidious and a little shorter.

The Stars Outside My Window (Reprise) (Hunter, Willow): A reprise, featuring a voice from Willow and possibly a round of this and the previously discussed song. Also, uhh, look, I’m a Huntlow shipper. If you ship Hunter with someone else, that’s great! You can swap out Willow’s name and the concept still works great!

I Never Want to Let Go Again (Eda, Raine): A reunion song - their romance is hinted at but they only get back together near the end. The vibe here is something like Send In the Clowns, with an obvious difference in subject.

MISCELLANEOUS:

If these songs make it through workshops and previews, they can stick around, I guess.

Hooty Hooty Hoot (Hooty, King, Ensemble): A dance number oriented around Hooty recounting his dull boring day as a house. That’s it that’s the song. If we don’t give Hooty a song people will be mad at us.

A Day Without Sunshine (Camila): A song where Camila laments her daughter’s changes, and finding out that she’s literally run off. It might be TOO much to have it come right after Mother, but still, Camila should get a big part someplace.

#Theater #musicals #THE OWL HOUSE #TOH #luz noceda #camila noceda #edalyn clawthorne #lilith clawthorne #raine whispers #amity blight #willow park #Gus Porter #huntlow #lumity #king clawthorne #hooty

84 notes · View notes

theramenbandit · 3 years

Note

20 and 59 for the mashup au prompts. Any pairing that strikes your fancy :)

From this post here

Describe how I’ll combine them: Co-teachers to lovers via secret admirer shenanigans.

“And don’t forget, project drafts are due next Thursday.”

So far, so good, Lena thinks as she gathers up her belongings and heads out the door of her first class of the day. She likes it here in Midvale. It’s a lot slower, a lot quieter, a lot--

Force, mass, velocity, something bumps into her hard.

“Oh shoot! I am so sorry. Here…”

The woman who apparently was the thing that bumped into her bends down and picks her things up off the floor.

Lena is, of course, properly miffed and halfway to a firm scolding until the woman straightens up again and Lena forgets how talking works for a moment.

Her hair is flowing in golden locks and the bluest eyes she had ever seen are looking at her from behind dark-rimmed glasses.

“Wait, you’re the new girl, right? Lena from Metropolis?”

“Yes,” Lena clears her throat. “Yes, that’s me.”

“Sorry about that,” the woman says nervously. “Let me make it up to you. Lunch in the hall at lunchtime?”

Lena should say no. She’s not here to make friends. But the blonde is cute and her shoulders are...nice. So…

“Okay.”

The blonde gives her a thumbs up and turns to leave, but quickly turns around and jogs back to where Lena is standing mutely.

“It’s Kara, by the way.” She extends a hand towards Lena in introduction. “Kara Danvers. I teach English.”

Ao3

Kara Danvers takes it upon herself to be Lena from Metropolis’ first ever official work friend.

Lena loses a fight with the coffee maker. She’d been having a bad day already, see. Her mother had called this morning, so naturally, by the time the damn machine stopped working, she was on the brink of tears.

“Hey there, is everything alright?” Kara asks cautiously as she walks into the break area.

“Everything is fucking dandy, thanks.” Lena growls, angrily swiping a hand at her eyes.

“Whoa, okay… You know, Noonan’s is right over there and your next class isn’t til 3, we could--”

“How did you know that?”

Kara casually points to the schedule on the board behind her.

Lena only growls again.

“Okay, you’re really wound up. Come on, a walk could do you some good.”

Kara learns that Lena is here as a middle school science teacher because she wants to prove something to her mother. And the pressure is getting to her.

“Sometimes you don't have to do amazing, just have to do your best.” Kara says reasonably. “Look, you're great and your students love you. So don't worry about what your mother says. Judge your work by the proper standard or... something.”

Lena chuckles at that. Kara was probably right.

"Thank you. I… I really needed that."

Kara nods sagely and continues to sip at her iced coffee. "What are friends for?"

The note is simple and plain and handwritten and she has absolutely no idea what it means. Or who it’s from, for that matter.

It’s, well... It’s notes. The note contains notes. That much she can suppose from the five lines and the G-clef and the black dots staring back at her. She looks around for anyone who might have left it there by accident, but she’s alone in the faculty room. What’s more, the note is wedged between the pages of her lesson plan for today, the only thing currently lying on her desk. Frowning, she looks back down at the small piece of paper and shoves it into one of her drawers. She’ll decide what to do with it later.

The note notes are piling up now and she thinks this might be something worth investigating. She'd gotten three more over the last week, each with the same handwriting and the same paper, but the notes on the staff (she does know some things) seemed to be different every time. She lines them up in order of the dates she got them and squints intensely at them, daring the offending dots to tell her what the hell is going on.

Kara's eyes widen in horror when she walks into the faculty room and sees Lena glaring at the notes.

Her notes.

She quickly makes to get out again but Lena's already seen her.

"Kara, hey!"

Shit.

"Hi, what's up?" the blonde responds, her voice suddenly pitchy.

"Can you help me figure this out?" She scoots over as Kara leans into her space and over her desk.

"Oh, they're notes," Kara tries nonchalantly.

"I can see that," Lena deadpans. "Notes to what?"

"Ehm, well this is a G, and this is a D… That's an E minor… It's a song."

Lena fights the urge to dramatically roll her eyes. "Do you know what song it is?"

Dammit, this is wonderful.

"It could be any song, Lena."

She's still trying to dodge it but Lena is adamant. And Kara doesn't want to lie, but she doesn't want to be found out, either.

"Uh... I could play it and maybe we can figure it out?"

"Okay, let's try that."

The music room is empty, much to Kara's eternal chagrin, so she and Lena walk up to the piano and she starts to play the notes that Lena holds up in front of her.

"It's Elvis," Kara says simply.

Lena soon recognizes the tune and starts to hum along with the keys. Just then, Kara slowly looks up from her seat and is mesmerized by the sight: the light is hitting Lena's face just so, illuminating the lines of her jaw, the curve of her lips, the dark red of her hair. She wishes she could stay in this moment forever. And if Lena were paying attention, she would notice that Kara wasn't even looking at the notes anymore. She was playing by heart.

"Oh, that's sweet," Lena whispers when the tune is done. "And you never told me you could play."

"My dad taught me the basics. The rest I figured out myself," Kara says quietly.

"Aren't you full of surprises?"

"It might be Mike, you know, that guy from the marching band? He is objectively good looking."

"He chews with his mouth open."

"Ooh, could it be Jack from phys ed?" He walks around with a guitar most Fridays."

"Lena, Jack is so gay for the bar owner and you know it."

"Well, who could it be?"

Me, Kara wants to say. But she doesn't. She doesn't want to make things weird.

They're sitting on the bleachers during the afternoon break, Lena leaning into her side munching on the donuts Kara had gotten for them. It wasn't hard for them to fall into this sort of easy companionship. Kara was open and friendly, and Lena, once her walls had gone down, was sharp and fascinating. And Kara fears that the feelings she's developed might ruin whatever this was that they had. So instead of being honest with herself, she just shrugs and bites sullenly into her own donut.

"It could be anyone."

People are starting to notice how often they are together, start talking about how cute they look next to each other. And so people waste no time in throwing them into each other's paths, especially since prom is three days away.

“Come ON, Lena!” Kara yells as she grabs Lena’s hand and drags her to the dance floor. Lena tries her best until she isn’t so much trying as she is struggling to keep up with Kara, who seems to have only got more hyper as the night wore on. But the joy on her face is infectious, and honestly, if she got to see this every day, Lena wouldn’t mind.

The song ends and the band’s vocalist approaches the mic.

"Hey, hey, everybody, y’all having a good time?”

The crowd whoops in affirmation.

“Alright! Well I think it’s about the proper hour, so we’re gonna slow things down a bit starting with a classic.”

The opening strains of a piano-driven ballad fill the air, and Kara politely extends a hand towards Lena.

Lena accepts.

Wise men say only fools rush in / But I can’t help falling in love with you

The world around them dissolves as they sway together, Kara’s hand gentle against the small of Lena’s back, Lena’s arm reaching up behind Kara’s shoulder.

“It’s Elvis,” Kara whispers against her hair.

“It was you,” Lena chuckles in response.

“You knew?” Kara says as she draws back to look at her.

“No. But I was kinda hoping.” She smiles warmly and Kara has never seen anything more beautiful in her life.

“You’re not mad?”

“Darling, why would I be mad?” Lena lifts her hand to brush it across Kara’s cheek. “You had me at Oh Shoot."

Kara laughs as she ducks her head in embarrassment and Lena cannot help but join her.

"I'd really like to kiss you right now."

"Please do."

#Full disclosure i have zero experience with teacher AUs #Like i was legit scared when this landed in my inbox #But i had fun doing this and it was a good brain stretch #so thank you spicycheeser for the challenge and i hope this was to your liking #i went with sc bcs why not #20 teacher au #59 interrupted declaration of love #RBmicrofics #writing tag #word count #1476 #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #supergirl

395 notes · View notes

alonelysimp · 3 years

Text

For You, Anything

Characters: Kamisato Ayaka x GN! reader

WC: 1003

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Descriptive mention of food, Unedited

Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Word vomit, No beta we die like hilichurls, New relationship

Song: (open any Ghibli playlist + kimi no na wa + nakitai watashi wa neko o kaburu)

A/N: surprise my love language is physical touch and I had to bonk myself so many times to keep from mentioning a forehead kiss or a hug-

“I’ve missed being with you like this,” she mumbles, her hand squeezing yours. Her voice is soft, almost drowned out by the grass gently rustling in the wind. Graceful, as petals may float upon a pool or as a heron may perch beside a lakebed. You hum and squeeze her hand back.

“Like what?” She sighs. Her pace slows, just barely a walk now.

“It’s… my duty… as lady of the Kamisato Clan to represent the Yashiro Commission, but...” Her voice trails off and she comes to a stop. The air stills, as if the world were holding it’s breath waiting for her to continue. Her eyes cast downward, a soft pink dusting the tips of her ears. “I cannot be as open with my true feelings, as I can with you.” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “I wish to be more open, someone the people of Inazuma can trust, and yet I can only be like this with you. Where does the daughter of the Kamisato Clan end, and my true self begin?” You step closer, adjusting your hand to intertwine your fingers with hers.

“To me, you are Ayaka. Not the lady of the Kamisato Clan, or the Shirasagi Himegimi. Just Ayaka. The pretty girl at the festival, in the blue kimono with a kitsune mask that I watched the fireworks with.” She relaxes at your words, a smile returning to her face. The breeze stirs the sakura blossoms that line the path. “And I missed being with you too.” You gently nudge her hand forward, prompting her to walk again.

Fog settles around you as you near the forest’s edge. Bake-danuki statues line the pathway, appearing on the rocks in clusters. From afar, you can hear their song to tempt travelers towards them for a harmless trick.

“The forest is beautiful this time of year.” You can only nod and watch in amazement as the fireflies flit in and out of view in the blue haze. If you weren’t just outside a minute ago, you would’ve sworn it was night.

Her hand releases yours, running down the path and crouching just beside it. You hurry up to her, crouching down beside her. She holds a flower in her hand, one recently picked, and turns to you. Her hand reaches toward your hair hesitantly, letting you pull away if you wanted, but you remain still. She tucks the flower into the hair above your ear, fingers gently working it to stay put.

“There.” A smile falls on her lips, and you swear your heart does backflips in your chest. She looks ethereal in the blue light filtering through the leaves and the fog. Her hair glows, almost, and she… she’s… “I’m sorry, y/n. Do you want me to take it out?” Her voice brings you back to reality. Her brows are pressed together in concern. You reach up to touch your face, eyes falling on the ground, feeling tears roll down your cheeks.

“Oh…” You smile at the thought, albeit a bit cheesy. Her beauty, it brought you to tears. You look back up to her, seeing the tension in her expression lessen slightly at the sight of you smiling, despite the tears that fall. “You’re beautiful, Ayaka.”

Her hand draws closer to your face, hovering just above your cheek. Warmth radiates off it slightly, barely warmer then the slightly cooler air around you. You press your face against her hand, silent permission for her to gently wipe the tears from your eyes.

She helps you stand back up, leading you by the hand over the river. She sat on a rock in the clearing beside a cooking pot, left behind by a certain trio of chefs.

“I hope you don’t mind letting me cook today, I learned some recipes I want to try out. You shake your head, taking a seat beside her.

“You’ve improved a lot. I trust it’ll be good since you made it.” She smiles and pulls ingredients out of her bag.

“Turn around, I want it to be a surprise,” she huffs in amusement. You roll your eyes playfully, complying to her shenanigans.

A flower brushes against your foot as you turn to sit the other direction. It makes a soft noise as you pick it. Within a few minutes, you had the beginnings of a flower crown, braiding the stems of the flowers together. The silence that sat between the two of you is comfortable, simply basking in each other's presence.

She hums, tapping your shoulder. “Close your eyes, I want you to guess what it is.” You set the flower crown in your lap, turning to her with your eyes closed. You hear something crunchy cracking, and something not moist, but not dry either get moved around. It's spicy, that much you can smell, and the smell of sir fried ham has been making your mouth water.

The heat radiates off the chopsticks she holds out in front of your lips, not so hot it would burn you but not so cold it would taste weird. A smile tugs at your lips and your mouth closes around the chopsticks. It’s fiery at first, the sheer spiciness taking you by surprise which leaves as soon as it comes, leaving you with only the reminiscent flavour as the spices burst through the dying flames. The ham is crispy, a salty sear on the outside giving way to a mildly flavoured, juicy interior. A dry piece crunches in your mouth, a faint flavour of rice mixing with the other flavours that leave your mouth warm.

“...Can I have more?” She giggles, giving you another bite of her dish. “What is it?”

“A recipe I got from the traveler. They said it was a Liyuean specialty, jueyun guoba.” You open your eyes, seeing a warm blush on her cheeks and a dish in one hand, chopsticks in the other.

“It’s delicious, you should make it more.” She smiles and nods excitedly.

“For you, y/n, anything.”

Woah it has been a long minute since i posted- thinking abt putting the banner above the cut? how are we feeling abt it? Also I'm in love with Ayaka !!

#Ayaka #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x gn!reader #ayaka x reader #ayaka x gn!reader #gn!reader #kamisato ayaka x reader #Kamisato Ayaka x gn!reader #genshin fluff #ayaka enjoyers i will feed you content #even if its unedited and i wrote this instead of working #ilyall #yall have amazing taste in women #ill be writing for the xinyan tag next bc its deserted <//3

112 notes · View notes

probably-haven · 3 years

Note

Hello!! After seeing what you wrote about xiaoven fics I went to see what things you usually write and omg, your archon Venti headcanons????? I am absolutely in love. So if it isn't annoying, could you talk about xiaoven or Venti or Xiao or whatever ship or character you like? I don't care what you are going to say, I just want to know more about your thoughts ^^

I- is this... bestie, this is essentially a free ramble pass- kerujsgheskdfug. Trust me when I say that in no way is this, and in no way will it ever be annoying in the slightest- i literally- lets just say rambling off thoughts is kind of my specialty, especially when provided a topic to branch off of because otherwise I'm just- really indecisive about it so- iujskdh yeah- 100% definitely down to talk about Venti, Xiao, and/or Xiaoven XD. Also, yes- it may have been awhile since i last posted one(cuz again, indecisive about which direction to take part 5), but the Archon War Era Venti headcanons are still without a doubt my favorite posts I've made. It's just such an interesting topic with such endless potential that so few people actually think about or consider or even realize is there, so i always just get really psyched whenever i see someone interact with them lol.

.... this ended up being a bit of a mess: warning in advance

Anyway! onto the actual content!

- You see the thing about Xiaoven is that there's a lot of different ways that it could end up working out, and just personally my favorite way of portraying Xiaoven in my mind is as an unlabeled relationship because if anyone in genshin would give off that vibe its these two. And a number of other reasons.

- Firstly, I heavily headcanon Venti as being an aroace polyplatonic or perhaps heavily demiromantic. However, regardless of this I just don't think that Venti is really the kind of person to worry about how he should label his feelings, thinking it's silly to try to put them in one box or the other, especially with feelings and emotions being as fluid as they are in general. Plus it fits his whole God of Freedom vibe. I just- dont think he's the biggest fan of labels or social categorization in general.

- And secondly on the hand of Xiao... his defense mechanisms are very much ingrained in his personality. It's probably hard enough for him to not go into fight or flight(the answer is fight) at the slightest affection at first, at the slightest feeling of vulnerability. Even further down the line, with his fierce dedication to Liyue, I cant help but get the vibe that the moment he recognized that he was falling for Venti he would begin avoiding him, not only to avoid distraction from his duty, but to avoid corrupting him or losing him in general like he has with like basically every other person he gets close with(even believing that the cycle had repeated once more when he first heard of Morax's death)... now imagine Venti tryna slap a label on their relationship and tell me Xiao would have a positive reaction.

- The thing with Xiaoven.... honestly, i feel like theres more ways that it can go wrong than it can go right, but if they do manage to make their relationship work out, it's just simply beautiful in all terms of the word.

- Lets talk about killing. - During the Archon War, both were forced to kill a large number of people and gods alike- Venti out of a need to remain alive to protect Mondstadt, it's freedom, and the nameless bard's legacy by extent- and Xiao out of servitude to the god that was once his master

..... actually- break here- ive talked a lot about Venti on this blog but I havent actually spoken about Xiao all that much- so i should probably do that a bit first... do note though that my characterization of Xiao is pretty flexible actually- this is just- the possible characterization of him that i tend to favor as being the most- uh- "realistically complex"

Theres a line I saw this one time in a certain story: "He is a trained weapon. That's what he is, was, and always will be. You cannot change that so stop trying." And i just- think its a really interesting concept- that applies pretty well to Xiao now that i actually think about it. - the concept behind it is this: After spending more than a vast majority of his life killing or otherwise in battle, it's become a part of who he is, a normalcy that after centuries and centuries would be near impossible to get rid of or reverse, and even if it was possible, with his karmic debt constantly eating away at him its unlikely he has enough time left for that to happen. - it sounds like a cruel thing to say about him- but in context it's actually pretty layered and i think about it a lot. It's not as much a "he's a killer lol, that his whole personality" its more of a "The centuries of trauma he experienced have conditioned him into a constantly alert and battle ready mindset while also shaping his dehumanizing inferior-in-worth-but-superior-in-capability view of himself that would have likely been necessary to get through those time, and at this point he's been under that conditioning for long enough that it's essentially ingrained itself in his personality."

- the main idea is- it's a part of who he is, that needs to be accepted as who he is because its not something that he can just up and change. It's not all he is of course but his constant battle mode, as though always waiting to be ambushed or to be granted a new target to eradicate.

a couple character story quotes:

-"His past of service under the evil god had rid Xiao of his innocence and gentleness. All that remained within him was the means to kill and the weight of his sins. The only way he could be of service to mortals was in combat." -"Xiao does not feel any hatred. Having lived for over two thousand years, no single karmic debt constitutes anything more than a fleeting memory. No grudge can last a thousand years; nor is any debt so great that it cannot be paid off in this time. Xiao has spent many long years alone. But his battles have never been in vain." -"where did Xiao have to return to? He was merely leaving the battlefield." -"since Xiao wages a constant war against dark forces powerful enough to devour Liyue in its entirety, any bystanders who witness him in the heat of battle are likely to end up as collateral damage." -"The war he fights can never be won, and will never come to an end." -"Because ultimately, the one with whom Xiao wrestles is himself."

i feel like at some point this very nearly did consume his whole personality, almost turning him into nothing more than a being of slaughter under Morax's control, devoid of any "humanity" at all, consumed and corrupted by his karmic debt like his fellow yakshas before him. - until he experienced a moment of clarity- a song in the wind, the peaceful melody of a dihua flute. - and pulled back from the border of something he wouldnt have been able to return from, there a was a shift in his mind- a concept grown unfamiliar enough with time that it took him a great time to identify what it was; a curiosity. Something that there was no place for on the battlefield, something that by all means should have been completely useless to Xiao, and yet he held onto that curiosity, slowly regaining over time, a sense of who he was and who he could choose to be with each song that the wind chose to carry towards him every once in a blue moon.

and eventually that curiousity turned to longing. Longing "for a day to come when he will wear the mask and dance — not to conquer demons, but to the tune of that flute amid a sea of flowers"

...... uh- heh- if you couldn’t tell already i have a tendency to make my characterizations/analyses of characters more serious that i probably should.

to summarize: Xiao is constantly toeing the line between his ingrained nature and his humanity- almost as though still trying to decide how much of that humanity he deserves to have, how much he is allowed to have, and how much is safe to have.

^looking back after writing this, i think the best way to explain it is that this is the view that i keep in mind/the lense that i tend to most enjoy looking through and refering back to while examining and/or analyzing his character, actions, story, lines, and overall personality.

idk- i kinda got off track but i just think its a really interesting interpretation to think about because it has some really interesting implications ig- it’s not the full extent of how i view him of course, but i kinda got ahead of myself and its long enough as is so ill just elaborate as i go- Lol i actually have in progress playlists for both him and venti and just- vibes- i could ramble about the playlists alone for hours explaining everything... It’s probably a problem- uh- ill keep going now lol.

anyways! stepping off the angst path for a brief break! Brought to you by their lines in the snow: both waiting for it to get thick enough, Venti for the purpose of a snowball fight and Xiao for the purpose of a tasty and nutritious breakfast.

but its actually something of note that Xiao doesnt actually need to eat so anything he does eat is usually out of obligation or enjoyment- so like.... snow.... like i dont blame him, but of all things- an adeptus who refuses to eat basically anything but almond tofu looks at the freezing-cold-floor-water that yeeted itself from above and decided at some point- damn- that seems more edible than basically ever single actually edible thing ever.... im gonna eat it- like- im glad if eating snow makes him happy but- at the same time...

He probably convinces Venti to eat snow too though and Venti wouldnt even resist I mean he’s wind and has probably consumed worse things in his time so- 2 anemo cryptids with glowing tattoos sitting in Dragonspine monching snow in the dead of night is an amusing thought to me.

- kay, now back to more serious-toned thoughts

One of the things about the ship that i really like is the different contradicting parallels between them:

A lot of how i view Xiao’s character is someone formed largely by the things he cant control and who was forced to accept that accepted that and learned to thrive in it as much as he can. Venti on the other hand is surrounded by things he cant control and is ever adapting to control as much as he can while embracing whatever he cant as being part of the unpredictability of the world, seeing beauty in it.

both of them have lost people and do what they do to honor their memory: Xiao continues to do what the Yakshas once did And Venti chooses to do what his friend couldn’t

Xiao’s power coming from himself and Venti’s from others And both seem to appear to use their power for their own gain while truly helping others behind the scenes

both have killed a lot of people during the archon war Xiao views it as another necessary event out of his control and Venti would likely view it as a tragedy he chose to enact himself

and this is where we meet out balance

Xiao- contrary to how i think a lot of people view him as thinking of himself as a monster- seems canonically to have accepted this as part of his duty, as long as those he killed are not mortals. I dont think he enjoys it no- but someone has to do it and he’s just accepted that its a part of his duty Venti on the other hand-

See the beauty of the ship- as someone with an angst-centric mind- is this- these are two of the most traumatized mfers in the game

Xiao is by far the one who needs the most help and who can serve to benefit most from the ship- but he is nowhere near self aware enough to recognize that there’s anything wrong or unhealthy about his mindset in the slightest-

whereas you have the contrast with Venti who sorted through most of his trauma with the nameless bard alone during the archon war and while the result appears more healthy- is still really not- but he’s not self aware of that either because i mean- who’s going to tell him? nobody even knows.

however- venti is aware enough to notice flaws in Xiao’s mindset and “Venti” enough to want to help them through it-

Xiao- while not aware enough to recognize the flaws in Venti’s mindset, can recognize where it contrasts with his own, and is blunt enough to point it out- and then it’s out there to be mulled over-

they’re so similar and yet so different and a feel just conversing between the two of them, being in each others precense, just being exposed to two mindsets that are so very different could do both of them a whole lot of good.

GEEE THAT BIT OF RAMBLING HAD LITTLE TO NO DIRECTION AT ALL- LET ME-- LET ME MAKE THIS START MAKING SENSE- WITH... DYNAMICS OR SOMETHING

I don’t think Xiao needs to sleep really- and i dont think that sleeping would do anything except make him uneasy at first- he’d probably just get nightmares after all he’s been through- but with Venti he would soon learn that it doesn’t have to be that way, lulled into the first peaceful sleep he’s had in... as long as he can remember.

anywho back to not making sense cuz im fickle and i think most questions about ships are best displayed through character interactions so like- a possible exchange thats cliche but cliches exist for a reason

Xiao: Why do you try so hard to help me, it isn’t easy. I know that much Venti, with the most adoring expression: Because you’re worth it, obviously Xiao: But surely there are others more deserving of- Venti: No Xiao, everyone is just as deserving as the next person, you included Xiao: Then why me above others? Venti: ehe, cuz ur my warrior of course [O//////O oh shit, hes right] Xiao: My contract is with Morax alone [gay panic but in broody yaksha]

it’s kinda difficult cuz neither of them really address their feelings. I mean Venti does but he does it very indirectly and its rare that he ever does it with like- genuine directness- even spilling his backstory was in the form of a song- and told in the third person- so a lot of their interactions would often have some deeper meaning, especially with Venti being the bard he is.

I come up with a lot of- errant thoughts about Xiaoven- but this is making me realize that a true analysis of their ship is rather difficult because it just encompasses so many dynamics so its hard to settle on just one and not go rambling about who knows what bouncing from one end of the ship to the other- Because you truly can and thats the beauty of it

within one moment you can be having a heartfelt conversation about the archon war the impact of lost friends and times past, and the next moment Venti is trying to forcefeed Xiao an apple while Xiao screams about disrespecting the adepti and its just- so lovely

so while they have picnics with nothing but apples, dandelion wine, and almond tofu they can sit down and talk about the dreams Xiao once devoured, and the dandelion wine and apple cider that the first Ragnvindir invented from the plants that never could have grown in Old Mond. The foods that tasted of familiarity, or of the grilled ticker fish Pervases always used to eat, foods that tasted of friends and frankly family that had since passed, glaze lilies and cecilias and qingxin flowers scattered in the surroundings and woven into Xiao’s neat braids and Venti’s now messy ones, rebraided by the steady and inexperienced hands of one unused to gentle action.

and then of course Venti steals Xiao’s tofu once the mood becomes too grim and replaces it with a bottle of wine that Xiao refers to as “vile poison,” a remark that fatally wounds Venti as he collapses on the floor, proclaiming how he can only be healed by a Yaksha’s kiss. Xiao ignores this of course and simply takes back his tofu with a slight smile on his face, but as Venti persists he soundlessly places a kiss on his own palm before intertwining their fingers and pulling him back up from where he was dramatically sprawled on the floor, grumbling about how such action was “unbecoming of an archon.” A sign of affection only Xiao would ever know about. But Venti is literally wind and I hc his senses work differently anyways so he definitely knows- plus Xiao’s face is red as the blood of his enemies and the way he is pointedly not looking at Venti at all really speaks volumes anyways.

-Venti playing epic battle music whenever Xiao goes into fights in what looks like a ridiculously extra performance to anyone else but is actually doing wonders to keep Xiao’s karma at bay

-Venti preaches the practice of “kissing wounds better” and Xiao is unfamiliar with this medical treatment but views it as unnecessary regardless because adepti have accelerated healing, doesn’t mean he’s going to stop him though.

-Messages whispered on the wind

-Venti’s 1000 year sleep- an accident, not a fun time for the yaksha, and not a fun time for Venti once he woke up. Venti is actually more afraid of restful sleep than Xiao is, hence the sleeping in trees thing, but when Xiao is there, he can sleep restfully with faith that Xiao wont let another millennia slip through his fingertips.

- Xiao tends to make excuses when doing things that aren’t necessary to his duty, like in his birthday voice line “Have this, it’s a butterfly i made from leaves... Okay. Take it. It’s an adepti amulet -- it staves off evil” because at the current point in his progress it helps him to feel like he’s allowed to do these things. Not wanting to put him off from progress, Venti never comments on his excuse but never fails to whisper a quick reminder of how proud he is of how far Xiao had come.

- Xiao’s karma saddens Venti greatly- not only because of how it effects Xiao but also because its a reminder that as much as Venti tries to honor the memory of those he’s killed, there will always be those who resent him for it, and when he took the option of living away from them, he truly can’t blame them. - And when he gets too wrapped up in thoughts, whether around this topic or similar ones or otherwise, eventually, he’ll hear the sound of a flute on the wind. It’s not divine by any means, but as his own wind connects him to the source, he gets the sentiment all the same. “What impact does one individual’s remaining wrath have on the present. You have done much to help the living in the present” the unspoken idea that Xiao has included himself in that statement, because now, with Venti’s help he’s beginning to learn just how to experience living for himself.

- Venti’s form and Xiao’s mask are off limit topics though because if either mentions it the other will counter with the opposite and the mood will turn immediately bitter at the idea that both know that what they’re doing is destructive but neither are willing to change

- Venti who has different tells for negative feelings than most people because as much as he likes to pretend it is- this form isnt his, and Xiao who is able to identify those

- many fanfics and headcanons have Venti recognizing when Xiao is uncomfortable and getting him out of those situations. I see that and I love it but i raise you: - Venti taking Xiao to Mondstadt, careful that he doesn’t get to the point that he’s uncomfortable. And nothing goes wrong exactly, but Xiao notices the the way Venti’s cape is blowing in the wind, the way he’s holding his weight, barely on his feet so much as floating on the wind, connected with the ground only for the sake of appearance, all the while he looks just as happy go lucky as ever. And without a word, he grabs his hand and teleports them both out of Mondstadt. - turns out it was just a slight thing that reminded him of the archon war (cuz i will die on the hill of him having more tragic backstory than just Decarabian), and he of course gives a sincere if not flustered thanks to Xiao, because he’s really not used to people noticing.

- Venti trying to vent sneakily through fictional stories and Xiao is just like “Didn’t that basically happen to you” and Venti is just like “<_< shit”

- Venti once said affectionally that he wished he had met Xiao sooner and Xiao immediately and seriously shot it down by saying “If you had, I would have been forced to kill you” and both of them now stay up at night wondering who would have won that fight, not sure which result would have hurt more. (because honestly I have no idea who would win in that fight and that terrifies me- I like to think it would have been one of those legends that end with “and the fight persists to this day” or something along those lines)

- “How long have you been together?” “Adepti have no need for-” “1000+ years T^T how dare you deny our love” “O///O our...? ...useless”

- its disney- let me explain- i have this- i have this headcanon inspired by watching too many animatics- - so venti has a human form that isnt his- which he would have had to get used to moving in- and he’s a bard- - uh- anyway- as a third degree black belt in mixed martial arts, i can speak as an authority on this(not really an authority since i havent gone since quarantine but lets pretend). We have a thing referred to as the big three(most things do), and those things are martial arts, gymnastics, and dance. The idea is that they reflect really well off of each other and the best in any one category are good in all three. Timing, balance, form, discipline, technique, hand-eye coordination, grace, ease of motion, they all play a part- anyway-

- Venti taking Xiao’s prowess in martial arts and acrobatics and teaching him how to dance, and as someone who’s extremely skilled in the first two, the third comes easy to him, almost naturally. And it’s delicate and beautiful and lovely and it isn’t hurting anyone. And Venti points all these things out and more and despite how much Xiao insists that he feels ridiculous he truly does enjoy it and it goes a long way towards helping him form more healthy views of himself and his worth. - Verr Goldett walked in on him once and made a joke about performing at the inn. unfortunately Venti was there and agreed on Xiao’s behalf before he could protest and- and it wasn’t as bad as Xiao thought it would be... he still wouldn’t do it again though without reason, but with good enough reasoning he could probably be convinced.

- anyways point is he likes dancing to Venti’s songs and i just think that’s really cute - just picture the idea that all the animatics you see actually have the potential to be canon- ugh

- venti tries holding something out of Xiao’s reach since he’s taller and Xiao just fucking teleports

- both need their space but when they dont, all they have to do is speak the other’s name and they’ll be there.

- and because i just had to.... love languages

- lets start with Xiao- i don’t think he’d view acts of service or quailty time as a love language tbh, and he blunt but really bad with words so affirmation is out, leaving gift giving and physical touch. However, he seems to view most material things as meaningless so- - Xiao who’s love language is in his fleeting touches, something he’s only recently grown comfortable with because of Venti, and now is giving back, which he knows he doesn’t have to do, but that he want’s to, though he’ll still continue to make excuses for each one. “you were shivering” “The inn is high up, you could have fallen..... I said what I said, you’d question an adeptus?”

- and as easy as it is to say words of affirmation for Venti- he does that for everyone- i want to say his is actually acts of service - its the acts of service that let him see just how much Xiao has progressed afterall, from teaching him to dance, to playing another song on the flute, to supplying him with the almond tofu he seems to enjoy so much. Every little thing he does helps Xiao to grow and he couldn’t be happier about that.

- of course most of my headcanons for the ship do take place latter into the relationship because- y’know the less serious unhealthy vibes allow for greater range of thought, but i do still love to think about the serious implications so i kinda hopped back and forth. So sorry about how messy it is btw, i kinda- got carried away- it kinda got some kind of structure near the end tho so- maybe it’s okay. anyway- back to... lol something, we’ll see where thought forests lead.

#genshin impact #genshin xiao #genshin venti #xiao #venti #xiaoven #genshin analysis #genshin headcanons #xiaoven headcanons #xiaoven analysis #this is a mess i really shouldnt be putting all these tags but oh well #oh wow the grammar and spelling here is truly repulsive #sorry to all my english teachers i have failed you all

75 notes · View notes

dorimena · 3 years

Text

𝕱𝖔𝖗𝖌𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖘

I should've been writing Bakugou’s late birthday post, but after watching the new episode a few days ago, I couldn’t help but finally confirm to myself that yes, I have a growing liking towards Kuroiro and couldn’t help myself. So, enjoy?

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; kuroiro shihei

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 2.6

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; afab!reader, handjob, masturbation, kuroiro’s a voyeur for you, subby!character

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; sex toys mentioned, aged up character; Kuroiro is 18

𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; there isn’t much Kuroiro content, as far as I managed to find here, less if it’s smut. So, here we go, hopefully I make more. I still have much to learn on how to probably correctly portray him, in other words I feel like he’s a bit ooc.

He likes to hide in the shadows, whether as a harmless prank, to travel from one place to another, but it’s mostly to just easily sneak into your dorm room at night.

Right now, though, he’s still lurking in the shadows of your room, just watching you study at such an ungodly hour, just because you were upset with him accidentally scaring you the other day. He didn’t mean to, but the damage had been done. At least you didn’t leave your dorm room light on to stop him, just sitting there, all pretty, with the desk lamp.

He has no plans leaving the comfort of the shadows yet, not with how it helps not only hide his cute, creepy smile, but to not show off how hard he is. And for what?

All because you’re wearing the shortest shorts you could ever own, and he loves how your legs look with them on; so much longer, increasing how enticing and inviting they look, whether for him to trace words of dramatized affection or leave bite marks before he pleases you to sleep.

Then again, he’s not here to woo you with poetry; he’s here to apologize, for maybe the 6th time this week, and maybe convince you to cuddle on your bed before he’d have to sneak back to his room. After all, he has been leaving you small trinkets and gifts all this time since the incident, and you’ve never really uninvited him over, simply barely acknowledging him before you whisper ‘goodnight’, as if you’d think he’d never hear.

It kind of hurt, but he couldn’t blame you, and maybe it’s time he stops trying to scare you as a form to rile you up into some ‘fun’. There are other ways, right? He can come up with another scheme to make you angry enough to maybe choke him harder, scratch him harder, maybe slap him harder?

“Y/n~” He calls out your name as melodically as possible, as if trying to act like a siren to lure you here into the darkest corner of your room. All he sees, though, is you shuddering before hunching yourself more over your desk.

You only move your head in acknowledgment, humming softly as you turn a page in your book to continue highlighting. This makes him frown, racking his brain for any remark to make you look over here, look over at him. Please.

“My beloved, look at me?” He calls again, using the pet name you enjoy hearing; but you still don’t look over.

So, being the little shit he can be, he calls you out by something he rarely does, unless he’s meticulously teasing you for something in return. A certain name he knew made you flattered but embarrassed.

“Hot stuff, look at me.”

And that has you turning around to look at his favorite corner, narrowing your eyes to catch the sight of his white eyes and teeth. To many, this would make them shit themselves, but for you, it angers you just how proud he looks.

“What did you say?”

There it is, now you’re angry and riled up. And he shudders, feeling tremors going up his body until it reaches his head. He peeks his head out, his white hair finally being seen as he hums.

“Hot stuff, but this time, come here?”

You stand, not before grumpily placing your highlighter in between the pages and pushing your chair quite the distance from your desk. Walking towards him, you cross your arms as you stand intimidatingly close, staring at him as you quietly wait for whatever poem he has prepared this time.

You’ve heard them all, wondering if he knew how you’d stop whatever you were doing to listen closely what he whispers, murmurs, sings out.

But instead, Kuroiro leaves from the shadows and pulls you into a tight hug, a hand resting on your head as he murmurs how sorry he is, how he’s come to reflect his past actions from the incident and previous ones, finally taking into consideration your feelings and possible thoughts. But not without telling you how he’ll compromise his pranks with you as it spices up your relationship from the others in the dorm. He leaves out the part about riling you up until you choke him during sex.

Even if his voice sounds so quiet, so calming in your ear, you can’t help but shift a bit in his embrace until he suddenly goes quiet, a simple hitch of his breath grabbing your attention. What happened?

“Shi?” You ask, looking at him. Whatever anger was in your system quickly drained, in fear you might’ve accidentally hurt him. And what sucks about his quirk is that you can’t ever tell when he’s blushing, but only guess with how his eyes and mouth look.

You feel him grind back- wait, what?

Somehow looking down, you come to see a tent growing in his white sweatpants, poking at your leg.

“How… curious.” You hum, placing your hands on his hips to keep him still.

“Is this new or did you come with this? Is this why you’re apologizing so directly?”

He stutters, his embrace tightening as he subtly tries pressing himself harder against you. He doesn’t deny what you’re telling him, but he also doesn’t confess it’s the truth.

You’re giggling, and even though it’s cute, like, really-cute-he-can’t-wait-to-smother-you-in-kisses, he groans at your slight teasing.

“My beloved. Don’t laugh at my predicament! I cannot help but give way to the temptation placed in front of me.”

Oh, how lovely. But he has a point. You did put on these shorts to simply rile him out of the dark instead of lurk in and around it, but clearly you were still lured in by his, uh, interesting choice of nickname.

“Why’d you call me hot stuff?”

“To get your attention, which is apparently clear to me, it very much worked.”

“You wanted my attention to deal with you or your friend?”

“Both.” Humor sounds in his voice upon your question, pressing his forehead on your shoulder as he joins in on you staring at, well, his erection.

“Well,” you start, startling him as you push him against the wall, “do you want me to talk dirty or speak Shakespearean?”

“Oh, for the love of- mmnh~”

Now, he’s not… much of a sub, not really. But he compromises so well, so nicely, that even if he is a sly motherfucker, he can also somehow weave his agreement in something through his words. Or actions, like now. You’re in command, you can do as you please, he owes it to you. Either way, he’ll still be able to ask you about choking him.

But your thigh rubbing up and down so teasingly against his crotch? Not what he expected. Since when do you start slow?

But you’re starting with that for now, wanting to milk out what you could of his sounds, his twitches, his reactions. You love it when he shivers.

“Stop teasing.” Kuroiro breathes out, letting go of the hug as his arms fall against the wall, his back and head creating a soft thud as he stares at your head. You haven’t looked up yet, but better for him. He doesn’t… want to look too creepy now, not with how he’s blending so well with the dark..

“I thought I could do what I want?”

“Yes, but- hah~ Stop that!”

“Stop what? This?”

“Interrupting me- ah fuck.”

You keep pressing yourself harder and harder against him, the speed never-changing, but it’s enough for him to already let out such airy moans and small groans. His hips are slowly lowering themselves to keep adding more pressure, moving them subtly to fasten the speed. This doesn’t skip your attention.

“You’re this turned on?”

“Can’t help it.” A soft groan leaves him as he grinds down a certain way, enough to make his knees feel a little weaker. “Needed you, days ago. Couldn’t…”

Oh? He’s embarrassed?

“Couldn’t what?”

“... make myself cum- hnn.”

You giggle again, the sound making him lay his palms flat on the wall in case he’d need to escape something embarrassing. But you know better than to tease him verbally, not wanting to make him become too shy that he’ll ignore you, whether or not you’re his lover now. He’s always been and will be such a shy boy, yet a sneaky bitch. Such duality.

You stop moving your leg and hold him as still as possible, lifting up your head to look him in the eyes. He doesn’t look or shy away.

“You’re cute, you know that? You couldn’t look me in the eyes before we dated, and now you have the audacity to come every night asking for forgiveness, but for what? Truly because you miss me, or just to get your dick wet and satisfied?”

You’re waiting for an answer, your hands diligently moving to pull down his pants slowly.

“I… I missed you, my beloved. I felt incredibly lonely. Even the moonlight that’d enter my room wouldn’t sing me the same song your humming would, or reflect such beauty you seem to radia- holy shit.”

It took what you had of self-control to not laugh: such words being interrupted by such a vulgar phrase. Good thing he’s not heavily religious, or that Ibara was around. She sometimes… worries you, with her affinity with religion.

Your hand is fondling about with his brief-clad dick, making sure the fabric seeps out the precum you could feel, but sadly not see. For some, this could be a turn off, not being able to see a dick; but for you, it just adds to the mystery, adds with how sexy you could even see Kuroiro be.

There’s no more words exchanged, not with how you’re enjoying the feeling of his hips pushing themselves to make him feel more of your hand and thigh, have you do something to add more to his pleasure. His white sweatpants are hanging around his thighs by now, his underwear soon enough being pulled down enough to follow.

A huff of ‘hurry’ leaves his mouth, leaving you confused about what the hurry is about? What happened to being patient? Or is he seriously so hung up with not being able to cum this week that he just needs to? Wait, that's actually hot.

Nodding your head, you smile up at him as one of your hands wraps itself around him and the other pressing its palm to the tip of his dick.

“I’ll be quick, just hold on, yeah?”

Nodding, his eyes immediately close when you squeeze him, your palm slowly figuring out what motion would make him moan faster.

When he moans your name out loud with the circular motion, you press a kiss on his lips before doing it again, and again, and again. Faster every time, spreading his precum around while your other hand tries to pick up into a steady pace without messing up the rhythm.

Kuroiro’s using the back of his hand to keep himself from whimpering out, moaning, huffing and groaning but not wanting to embarrass himself further with such a weak-like noise. But seeing him struggle with that issue is enough to let it go, pressing your knee between his legs and against the wall to keep yourself balanced.

Faster, faster, faster. Your hands seem to keep moving impossibly faster as the room slowly fills with wet sounds, soft thumps of his hips helping place more rhythm.

He hasn’t opened his eyes yet, keeping them shut even if he feels like watching what you’re even doing with him, to him.

But instead, with his eyes closed, his brain decided to bring up what he saw a few days ago:

You didn’t even notice he snuck into your room, or bothered turning off your desk lamp as you lay shamelessly on your bed, pussy out for him to watch as you work a black dildo in you and your other hand placing a small vibrator on your clit.

And you were whining out his name so shamelessly, as if you knew he was watching. (And you did.) Again, you were fucking yourself with a black dildo, just as black as him. And that should’ve been enough for him to maybe relieve himself right then and there, or even beg for forgiveness as you grew closer and closer to your own orgasm. Fuck him, not a dildo! Or let him fuck you while you choke his dirty talk out of his throat!

Instead, Kuroiro quickly left and travelled back to his room, throwing himself on his bed as he almost ripped his pants and underwear off, fucking himself in his hands as he tries to convince himself that he’s fucking you, and even with a precum covered hand, he tried recreating how you usually choke him, claw at him, scratch him.

And he would very much like to fuck you now, but with how you’re touching him, the way your palm is grinding itself incredibly fast around his tip and your other hand furiously jacking him off, he thinks it’s not worth the idea yet. Not when he knows you’re forgiving him, somehow.

He’s about to cum anyways.

He’s trying to grab the wall, as if the darkness would be something he could grab onto like a bedsheet to keep him still, but it does nothing, just make his hands ‘melt’ into it.

His hips are chasing after your hands yet pulling itself away as his knees try not to knock into each other. His chest is rising and falling rapidly, soft sighs leaving with a small moan as an accessory.

And his eyes? He finally opens them, looking from the ceiling to then catch you staring up at him with your own smile, making his reminiscent one fade away as a whole new wave of arousal travels up his body.

Shuddering harshly, he feels his eyes cross a bit as a repeat of his earlier flashback plays, and plays, and plays. The sounds, the scene, the smell of your arousal-

“Y/n- I ahh think- close?”

“Sorry, didn’t understand that. You’re close?”

He just nods rapidly, blinking as he tries to keep his eyes opened to make eye contact, because for him, it’s sexy, it’s intimate, it’s reassuring.

He hears someone letting out weak whimpers, but he thought it was you, until he lets out a louder one and startles himself.

“Again, Shihei, again.” You moan out, feeling your underwear stick itself more to your cunt.

And if your moan of his name wasn’t enough to make him whimper your name back, he’s sure your sweet, sultry encouragement is enough to make his eyes cross once again, forcing him to close his eyes as his hungry hips just downright try fucking your hands without any shame.

He’s grunting how close he is, moans straining in his throat before being caught up in an intake of air, his whole body entering a strong tremor before small yet growing waves of them make him shiver. Without him realizing, his body’s slowly ‘melting’ into the dark, sinking into it as he groans out how he’s cumming.

You watch, taking your hands away from his dick as he spurts thin trails onto the floor, some onto his lowered sweatpants. But even once he’s done, his dick is still hard and twitching.

“What?” He’s confused. He’s not supposed to stay hard. You’ve already made him cum, but why does he feel so unsatisfied?

“M-my beloved?” He whispers, suddenly realizing how he’s more into the walls than pressing against them. Taking himself out of the dark and leaning back against the wall, he brings a hand to your face just as you grin wickedly.

“I think I ruined your orgasm.”

Well shit. Now what, you’re gonna try overstimulating him now? Well, with the way you're going on your knees and bringing him into your mouth, enough to make him wince yet moan, he’s pretty sure tonight he won’t get to fuck you.

#bnha smut #mha smut #kuroiro smut #kuroiro x reader #ლ; blasphemy #𝖐𝖚𝖗𝖔𝖎𝖗𝖔

197 notes · View notes

uwuwriting · 3 years

Text

Nightmares w/ Fushiguro, Itadori and Gojo

Request: Since you write for JJK now could I req Megumi, Yuuji and Satoru where reader has a nightmare and they have a sleepover? - anonymous

Heehehehehehehehehehe the first ever JJK post on here and oh boyyyyyy. I love all of them so much but Yuuji and Megumi just hit different. Ah the flavor. This may not be the song post I had promised yall earlier today but I couldn’t help myself after reading a bunch of thirst posts from @jujutsucurses and I just felt the need to contribute to this fandom. Love ya.💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: nightmares, some tears but mainly fluff.

Fushiguro Megumi

-Ahhhh I love this man so much fiohwohfo.

-He gets why you have nightmares.

-Your latest mission had gone south leaving you the sole survivor of the whole ordeal.

-He could see the fear in your eyes the moment you stepped into the school but since he didn’t want to expose you in front of the others he had just grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers before giving a firm squeeze.

-It was a simple reminder that he was here with you.

-That you were alright and nothing could hurt you now.

-So when he heard the soft knock on his door that night he knew immediately who it was.

-He already had your favorite hoodie of his splayed on his bed and a fluffy blanket so you could cuddle before bed maybe vent to him if you wanted.

-Opening the door he came face to face with a teary eyed you clutching the ends of your sleeves in a vice grip while your voice trembled as you spoke.

- “C-can I sleep h-here tonight?”

-He wasted no time in pulling you into a hug and leading you to his bed, motioning to the hoodie as an invitation.

-He turned around while you changed, walking out of his room for a moment to grab you a glass of water only to be stopped by a small whine.

- “I’ll be right back angel.”

-In two minutes you were cuddled up under the fluffy blanket, your ear pressed over Megumi’s beating heart as you balled his shirt in your fists, wanting him as close as possible.

-He couldn’t do much.

-You hadn’t spoken since you came in and no matter how much he hugged and rubbed your back he couldn’t stop your trembles.

-Raising his knees, he caged your form closer to his body peppering kisses on your hairline as he continued to rub small circles on your back.

- “Wanna try to sleep?”

-You looked up at him before burying your face in his neck, giving him a small nod before hooking your arms under his.

-Without moving a lot, he laid down kissing you again before closing his eyes.

- “I don’t know what happened and you don’t have to tell me. But I can see how much it hurts you and I can’t just let that go on, so what do you say you stay here for the next few days?”

-You could only nod in agreement as you nuzzled more into his chest.

- “I love you.”

-It was a restful week.

-Although you did have Gojo teasing you and warning about unplanned pregnancies.

-Nobara couldn’t understand what you saw in Megumi *um girl is you blind?* and kept sneaking into his room.

-Yuuji….didn’t really care, he gave you guys a wave every morning when you got out for breakfast and that was really it.

-Makki cannot wait to tell Todo that Megumi has a girlfriend who stays in his room every night.

Itadori Yuuji

-Baby boiii.

-He is so cute omg.

-I cannot begin to describe how much I love him and his stupid fluffy pink hair.

-Anyways back to the point.

-He knew that his ‘death’ had shaken you up.

-It had been weeks until his classmates found out that he was indeed alive and well.

-That Sukuna had resurrected him and that everything was fine.

-In those weeks he also knew that you mourned him and that you most likely blamed yourself for what happened to him.

-You were there, you saw Sukuna rip his heart out from his chest *literally*.

-He remembers seeing the terror behind your eyes as he watched the scene unfold while under Sukuna’s control.

-He remembers how you scrambled out of the car despite your bleeding injuries only to get to him.

-It haunted him as well at times.

-He couldn’t get your face at that moment out of his mind.

-But despite your fear for him not being next to you in the morning during breakfast, you had never bothered him before.

-Nobara had to calm you down more than once but you had made her promise to not outer a word to anyone if she valued her bag collection.

-Tonight though you had an aching feeling that you wouldn’t find him in his dorm.

-That you had lost him again and that caused you to rush to his dorm at 3 am, frantic knocking almost waking up Megumi next door.

- “Babe?”

-He was right there in front of you, hand raised to rub his eye the other one underneath his hoodie scratching at his stomach.

-He is alright, he is not dead, he is alive, he is okay-

- “Hey hey why are you crying? Y/N baby what’s wrong?”

-He pulled you inside quickly wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you flush to his chest, his worry sky rocketing when you started full on sobbing while clasping his shirt.

- “Y-you’re o-okay.”

-And with that he knew immediately what this was all about.

-He never expected you to have a breakdown.

-Your rage the moment you found out he was alive and then the lecture he got from you were the only reactions he had gotten about that incident.

-But here you were, crying your eyes out because you thought that he was gone again.

- “P-please don’t l-leave me a-again. P-please Yuuji.”

-Scooping you up in his arms, he let you wrap your legs lightly around him as he took you with him to the kitchen to grab a glass of water in hopes of calming you down.

-Unlike Megumi he wasn’t about to leave you alone in his room not even for a second.

-When It’s time to finally go back to sleep he won’t pull you off of him he’ll just lay you on his chest with your head over his heart.

- “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. I’m alright. We’re alright.”

Gojo Satoru

-In all of his years as a sorcerer he had never seen you so defeated before.

-It was a rare sight and one he never wants to see again.

-Being a teacher in the same school as him made keeping an eye on your idiot of a boyfriend easy.

-Or so you thought.

-You were with him on the car ride to meet principal Yaga when he said to leave him on the side of the street.

- “I’ll find you at Yaga’s darling.”

- “Sato what-”

-He had simply kissed you before closing the door mouthing an ‘I love you’.

-He had worried you out of your mind.

-You had sensed the presence of immense amounts of cursed energy at some point while you waited which only made the matters worse.

-He will be fine, he is the best for a reason.

-No matter how logical those thoughts sounded you couldn’t fully convince yourself.

-He came later than other times and you could see he was a little disheveled.

-Not much because he is Gojo Satoru after all but you were able to notice.

-Later that night he told you what had happened and you got into a small argument about his recklessness and how he shouldn’t keep you out of things like this.

- “We are a team Sato, we always have been. No matter what you don’t just tell me to leave.”

-You had both gone to sleep with slight frowns on your faces, the bitter taste of your argument still present on your tongues.

-Despite it all he still clung to you, his arms wrapped securely around your middle as you nestled back into him.

-He woke up at an ungodly hours because you were fidgeting next to him.

-Trembles and soft sobs racked through your body, your eyes still closed but your brows had furrowed, a grimace present on your features as you turned this way and that.

-Your hand was clutching his oh so tightly, small whimpers leaving your lips as sweat rolled down your forehead.

- “Darling? Wake up.”

-You shrunk away as he went to nudge your shoulder with his other hand and that’s when he realized that he wasn’t going to wake you up so easily.

-When you had nightmares it could only go one of two ways.

- A) you woke up before Satoru even realized you were having a nightmare or

- B) you couldn’t wake up at all unless Satoru splashed you with water or maybe an earthquake happened.

-Apparently this particular night you wouldn't be able to wake up.

-Bringing you into his lap with his fingers still intertwined with yours, he swayed back and forth as more trembles shook through you.

-He hated it when you had nightmares.

-He felt so useless.

-He couldn’t protect you from them, he couldn’t stop them and he couldn’t fight them.

-He could only try to calm you down by making his presence clear while you battled them alone.

-You were right, you two have always been a team and will always be one.

-That will never change no matter what.

- “I’m here, darling, I’m here.”

TAG TEAM AY:

@the-arcana-fan-fic @angelwritings @axerrri @reinyrei @dnarez @storage11037 @wolfkid22 @letscheereachotheron @ezoyscorner @luluwiie @threeamwriting @dark-thoughts-and-red-roses

337 notes · View notes

starlene · 3 years

Text

I briefly discussed this with @chazmina back in, what, February, and wrote a note to myself that I should make a post about it... well, I guess time’s a construct and it’s always better late than never, so here goes.

The Problem with Emma/Jekyll in Jekyll & Hyde the Musical

So. I’ve never really felt any chemistry in between Emma and Jekyll in J&H the musical, and whenever I watch the show, I have a rather hard time trying to get invested in their relationship. I wanted to write a little post exploring why that might be!

First off, because coming from me, someone might think this is the case – I don’t think it’s because I ship Utterson and Jekyll. The way I ship those two (namely, a semi-unrequited mess of mostly bad feelings) doesn’t really get in Emma/Jekyll’s way. If anything, having an impending wedding to someone else enhances my Utterson/Jekyll experience. And hey, you know what the meme says, Jekyll has two hands... and he effectively uses them both to hurt many, many people. :)

But, thinking about Emma...

The musical, of course, does what every other adaptation of Jekyll and Hyde does and gives Jekyll and Hyde separate girlfriends. And at first glance, the whole situation with Emma and Lucy is built on some very tired stereotypes: you have the goody-two-shoes rich blonde for the good guy and the promiscuous poor brunette for the bad guy. The musical does little to combat this – but for me, the things it does make the situation worse, actually.

The Problem

When we first meet Emma in the engagement party scene, we soon find out she’s not quite what you might expect. Sure, the writing’s ham-fisted at best, but even so – instead of a demure little wife-to-be, Emma is rather sassy. She’s also broken off a relationship before, apparently simply because the man didn’t appreciate her for who she was. And now, she’s marrying a man of her own choosing, even if there are people out there who don’t approve of the match. Pretty advanced for (our stereotypical vision of) the Victorian era.

I think in some other story, this would be great! A quick-witted, self-confident lady to balance off the scientist with lofty ideals. However, in J&H the musical... first, the musical takes pains over showing us why Emma and Jekyll are a good match – come on, they badmouth the stuffy party crowd together! – and then, we see Jekyll take his leave of this fantastic woman to go ogle at dancers in a local burlesque house.

(Sure, sure, it’s a bachelor party cliché to hire some strippers, but even so. He doesn’t even hesitate. Maybe it makes a little more sense whenever they’re using the script where it’s Utterson’s idea to go to The Red Rat, but it doesn’t seem like many modern productions are based on that.)

Then, of course, Jekyll runs into Lucy, and we’re supposed to believe he sees something in her right away. Something, you might assume, that’s altogether different from whatever he sees in Emma.

Sure, the obvious thing that pops to mind first is that Lucy is sexually available in a way Emma is not – but then again, it’s six weeks to go unti Jekyll and Emma’s wedding, so soon enough, Emma will be too. (And even back in those days, I guess if they wanted to get it on right there and then, they could. I repeat, it’s six weeks, so even if they got a baby on the way right away, she wouldn’t be showing until after the wedding.) So maybe instead, Lucy understands Jekyll mentally in a way Emma does not? But if she does, what was Jekyll and Emma’s big song about knowing and loving each other as they are about? Are we supposed to think it was insincere? Or are we supposed to assume that Jekyll assumes that, unlike Emma who knows and loves Jekyll, Lucy would also love Hyde as he is? (I guess that might be it, I’ve previously talked about this with someone who was an advocate of that theory – but it’s still a lot of assumptions stacked on top of each other without ever making the situation quite clear.)

This all leaves us with a rather weird situation: Jekyll is in love with and getting married to Emma, who loves him back and is very likeable. At the same time, Jekyll finds Emma lacking somehow, because when he gives way to his repressed urges, he immediately goes to cheat on her with Lucy.

Of course, you could use a setup like this to argue, say, that you shouldn’t except any single relationship to fulfill all your dreams, and that monogamy is not the right lifestyle for everybody – but this show is decidedly not smart enough for that, and the extremely stereotypical way the women are otherwise handled doesn’t really allow for enough nuance to argue something like that. From a storytelling point of view, in a show like this, you’d except something a bit more overt.

The Solution

To fix this, here’s what I’d do:

I’d still write Emma as a feisty, likeable character – but I’d add in a couple of lines where the engagement party guests whisper about her embarrassing breakup with Simon and how she’s getting on in years, so it’s good she’s settling down with someone, even if Jekyll is way beneath her.

When it’s time for the big Jekyll/Emma duet, then, I’d write it in a way that makes clear something’s not quite clicking in between them, that they’re not quite in tune with each other (maybe literally.) There would be some clever lyrics implying that, while they’re dreaming of a harmonious future together, their exceptations of what their marriage will be like actually contradict each other. Maybe Jekyll doesn’t even understand Emma’s sense of humour, and when she tries to make some sassy remark about a party guest, he just stares at her, nonplussed.

And then, when Jekyll and Utterson leave the engagement party for The Red Rat, you could have Jekyll confessing he’s a bit worried about how balancing his work with the duties of a family man is going to work out. And Utterson’s all, hey bro, I hear you, but it can’t be that bad, I mean, correct me if I’m wrong, but once she inherits her father’s fortune, [insert ka-ching noise]... and then you could have Jekyll sheepishly admitting that Papa Carew’s fortune is something he indeed considered when proposing to Emma... but John, don’t get me wrong, it’s also that I’ve never met any woman I like as much as I like Emma, and isn’t that a perfectly respectable reason to get married to her?

And boom, then Jekyll meets Lucy, and she’s the one. He knows it immediately after seeing her: what he feels for Emma is nothing compared to this, this is the woman of his dreams, the only one for him, and no matter what he does or who he marries, he’ll never be able to put her away from his mind. (Shhh. I know it’s saccharine. I guess at heart, I’m a tragic romantic.)

Then, Jekyll’s dilemma becomes this: he knows that by breaking up with Emma, who’s already scandalised everybody by breaking off an engagement with Simon Stride, he would destroy her chances of ever getting married, and he cares for her enough that he doesn’t want to ruin her. He knows that by now, it’s his gentlemanly duty to go through with the wedding. What’s more, he obviously knows marrying a prostitute would destroy whatever credibility he still has in the London society – and if he ever wants to advance his career and make a real difference in the world, he cannot have that. He knows that a connection with the Carew family, and in time, Papa Carew’s fortune, would greatly help him to reach his professional goals.

And maybe Hyde treats Lucy badly not only because she prefers Jekyll to Hyde, but because somewhere deep inside, Jekyll and therefore Hyde is angry at her for existing – for destroying what would’ve otherwise been an okay-ish marriage and an okay-ish life. Because now that he knows her, he knows how true love (and lust) feels like, and a lukewarm existence simply will not do anymore.

What do you guys think? Does this make sense to you? Or if you really like Emma and Jekyll’s relationship in the musical and don’t think it should be changed, why is that, and what is it that I’m not getting about it? :D

#Jekyll and Hyde #Jekyll & Hyde #Henry Jekyll #Emma Carew #JH meta

59 notes · View notes

hey-there-juliet · 3 years

Text

Random Drabble Day (2/23)

Summary: First off, let me just say that this is more like a one-shot than a drabble because I'm a wordy bitch and I cannot control myself 😅

That said, I always had a hard time imagining Julie writing some of the Perfect Harmony's lyrics about herself, so I thought why not make this just another song that Luke and Julie wrote together? This is set somewhere between Finally Free and Edge of Great, in that week when Ray was stress-eating. This is supposed to fit back into the show at the end, so it might seem like a cliffhanger, but it's not.

Quick shout out to @jamestkirkish for betaing this for me! I love you and you are amazing! Any remaining mistakes are my own. And to the fabulous Sloan, for helping me out with Luke's handwriting! Enjoy 🧡

Fandom: Julie and the Phantoms

Relationship: Juke 💜

in the great scheme of life and ghosts

No matter how many times Luke insisted that she had been snooping through his things, Julie knew for a fact that she had done no such thing. In reality, she had simply been cleaning the studio when she came across it.

For three ghosts who didn't eat and could barely even touch anything most of the time, the boys sure knew how to make a mess. Every morning Julie would walk into the studio to find the chairs or coffee table rearranged, at least one of the rugs was always askew, and the clothes... the clothes were everywhere, and the worst part was: they reeked.

And so every morning before leaving for school Julie would shoot them a stern look and tell them to pick up after themselves. Which they did - when she got back home, things were mostly in their rightful place. Still, every weekend Julie would make sure to take a moment away from homework and rehearsal to tidy the place up to perfection, just like her mom liked it. She'd dust off the furniture, water the plants, sweep the floor, and even vacuum the whole place. One Saturday when she was home alone (her dad photographing a wedding, and Carlos at a friend's house), she even went through the trouble of washing all of the guys' old clothes.

Somehow, and she didn't even want to think about how that worked, the clothes didn't stink when they were actually wearing them, but at any other moment when they made no contact with their skin? Yeah... not good. So she washed them all (three times, using every trick and product she had). She washed them a fourth time for good measure and, by the time she was finished, any traces of twenty-five year old mold was gone, and so was the smell.

So no, she was not snooping - no matter what Luke said - when she came across the crumpled paper ball between the couch and the low cabinet, just behind a big vase her mom had gotten from tía Victoria.

Julie sighed, making a mental note to tell Luke to put his discarded ideas in the bin (again) if he didn't want them anymore, when one scribbled and wrinkled word caught her attention: Perfect Ha-

She bit her lip, staring down at the teasing word. Perfect what? Was it lyrics? Maybe half formed ideas? Doodles? Julie knew Luke liked to doodle in the margins of his notebook whenever he got stuck trying to come up with the next best piece of lyric or melody. She also knew she should probably just leave it alone, put it with his stuff to ask him later if he wanted to keep it, or put it in the garbage. Except the more she glanced down at that damn word, the stronger she felt it pull her towards uncovering whatever else the crumpled paper ball was hiding.

In the end, the pull was too strong. She'd just take a quick look, make sure it wasn't anything important before she threw it away. And, she reasoned with herself, trying to squish the guilt that was making itself known in the pit of her stomach: Luke had gotten rid of it, so he clearly didn't care much for whatever was in there.

Not able to resist any longer, Julie carefully unfolded the paper, slowly making her way towards the piano and using its surface as a table to help smooth the page over.

Luke's (horrendous) handwriting covered it with the bare bones of a song, random lines were scribbled in the margins with a couple of doodles for company, and even a little note from their bassist - ‘Reggie was here ;)’.

It took her a minute before the chicken scratches became words, and then Julie's breath left her in a rush, as the guilty feeling in her stomach turned into butterflies and flew away with her imagination.

It was a song, parts of one, anyway, and - more importantly - it was a love song.

Unprompted, her own words came back to her, "Wow, Luke! I didn't know you were such a romantic." Quickly followed by Alex's short reply, "He's not."

She knew now who Unsaid Emily was really about, but these new words were clearly about a different kind of love. The romantic kind, and Julie couldn't help letting herself believe - just for a moment - that the song might be about her.

Before she could let herself be carried away in a daydream, there was a - now familiar - shift in the air, a sound almost like static, the only thing letting her know of a ghost's appearance. Without a thought, she crumpled the page again and shoved the paper ball in her pocket for later inspection.

"Hey, Julie!" Reggie's cheerful greeting sounded across the studio from where he had poofed in, and soon - with his "help," bless him - Julie was finished with her weekend clean up.

As if summoned by the end of her chores, Luke poofed in, ready to rehearse. Alex soon followed; and by the time Julie retired for the night, the song had been almost forgotten where it hid inside her pocket.

Almost.

***

After getting ready for the night, Julie settled on her bed with the wrinkled page and her dreambox. She read over the words again and again, imagining they were about her.

Step into my world,

Bittersweet love story about a girl

Shook me to the core

Voice like an angel,

I've never heard before,

You and me together, it's more than chemistry

Love me as I am

I hold your music

Here inside my hands

You are my brightest burning star

We create Perfect Harmony.

And unless Luke had been singing with another girl, there didn't seem to be many options on who it could be about, right?

From the beginning, Julie had felt something connecting her to him; to all of them, in different ways. But Luke had been the one to give her a little piece of his soul right after meeting her when he let her use Bright to earn back her spot in the music program. Seeing his passion reflecting back on her, the way he treated music like she used to, made her miss it more than anything for the first time in almost a year. It made her miss the way it felt to use music to connect with her mom.

After they spent a whole weekend finishing each other's songs and working on new ones, getting to know each other's inner workings - the part of them that bled out feelings into paper to create beautiful melodies, Julie knew she was a goner. Finding out he'd been the one to write the words that shaped her taste in rock certainly didn't help. Like he'd been helping her find her way to music long before they even met.

Her crush on him had been inevitable from the start, and while falling for him was probably one of the worst things she could’ve done, it was too late to stop it. She'd been free falling for a while, and hopefully she'd land in his arms soon enough. Reading over his words again gave Julie a warm fluttering in her stomach that made her think he was more than ready to catch her once she reached the ground.

Carefully folding the piece of paper, she put it inside her dreambox, then placed the box back on the shelf.

***

The following week went by without any hiccups. Every once in a while, Julie would remember Luke's song and a familiar warmth would fill her up, leaving a soft smile on her lips and glazed eyes staring off at nothing. Just as often, Flynn would have to shake her out of her daydreams.

She didn't think much would come of it until her dad decided to throw the band a party so he could film them and post their video on YouTube. Which was fine. Amazing, even. It was most certainly great! Until Luke came to the school, staring at her with his stupid, beautiful, awed eyes, and with his soft, perfect smile, saying things that made her combust and melt, all at the same time.

"I think you make me a better writer."

"I think we make each other better."

Calling Nick 'Luke' was bad enough, but slipping into a complete musical sequence as she danced with him? "Goner" didn't even begin to describe her.

Like the other times they'd written together, the lyrics flowed through her, finishing the song he'd started with the same ease as one would take a breath.

Julie knew that whatever was going on between her and Luke couldn't happen or, if it did, it couldn't last. In fact, in the great scheme of life and ghosts, she didn't know much, but what she did know was that - be it in life or in death - love was constant.

He didn't need to have a heartbeat or to be able to touch her for her to love him. He was just as real to her as the next person, and whether it would hurt in the long run or not, it didn't matter.

She knew Flynn was only looking out for her, but that ship had sailed, and Julie was already so lost in his ocean eyes that avoiding eye contact wasn't going to bring it back. She would entertain her though, even knowing it wouldn't work. Just like the tide, eventually he'd pull her right back in.

She could love him just as he was, for however long they had together, and especially after that.

End notes: I hope you guys enjoyed it! And, if you'll notice, at the beginning it kind of gives off the impression that Luke eventually finds out about the song and Julie tells him how she found it. Which may or may not lead you to believe that they're in a relationship. I guess it all depends on interpretation though ;)

Oh, also! Shout out to the chaos squad folks that guessed right! You guys are no fun :( /j lmao

#RDD #23 by 23 challenge #fanfic #mine #jatp #jatp fic #julie and the phantoms #julie molina #luke patterson #juke #jukebox #julie x luke #fic recs

51 notes · View notes

wren-ravenheart · 3 years

Text

You Tried So Loud To Love Me

@witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo

Prompt: Hanahaki Disease Relationships: Jaskier/Valdo Marx Rating: T Content Warnings: Minor blood Summary: Jaskier absolutely could not stand Valdo Marx for even a second. He was pretentious, too pretty for his own good, and had a terrible habit of writing sonnets and songs about the color of Jaskier's eyes and the swoop of his hair that he was absolutely certain were some sort of masterfully crafted insult to his person and reputation.

Tucked under a cut again for Length, though this one is over just over 2k words.

Cross-posted to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31171259

There were exactly three things in life that Jaskier was absolutely certain of. Things that he could continue to count on even when the rest of his life was attempting to fall to pieces around him.

That Belleteyn is the best holiday.

That Toussaint is Hot and Pretentious.

And that Valdo Marx is an asshole.

Even when his pockets were empty, his lute strings snapped, or he suddenly found himself caught up in a mild court scandal that he assuredly had no part in, he could always rely on those few things. It was easy to keep moving forward when one was propelled by Pettiness and Lust. Even if he could never give an exact answer as to why he hated Valdo so much when pressed. Really now, you wouldn’t ask why the grass was green or the sun warm, so why would anyone ask Jaskier why he couldn’t stand that fluffy little upstart?

It was assuredly not because the rival bard did indeed stand two inches taller than him and was criminally handsome. Nor was it because he had a perpetual perfect smile on his face that refused to budge even when Jaskier threw his best insults at him. And it most assuredly was not because the thrice-damned bastard had written not one but Two Sonnets entirely about Jaskier’s eyes and hair and he absolutely could read the undertones of mocking that clearly lay within. No, it was clearly none of those things that irked Jaskier to his very core.

What kept his petty hate-fueled animosity going was the absolutely nonsensical crush he had on the bastard. A crush he had worked hard to snuff out with wine, women, and a few other bards who weren’t nearly as annoying as Valdo. A crush that clearly had not gone away with time. A crush that was currently trying to hurtle it’s slimy little self all the way into actual, ugh… Love.

Which made it even more frustrating than usual that Valdo was suddenly not his normal bubbly self, greeting Jaskier warmly and loudly as he strode into their mutually favorite tavern in the middle of Oxenfurt. He looked tired, and quiet, and barely glanced at Jaskier before shifting his gaze back into the pint of ale in front of him. Not wine? By Melitele, what was wrong with him?

“Well, well, look who the alley cat dragged in. Ale will go straight to your gut, Valdo. I’ll steal back the title of prettiest bard before you know it.” He sniped as he leaned against the table’s edge and smiled with too many teeth.

Valdo cut his eyes up and then back down. “Good day, Jaskier.”

The smile dropped from Jaskier’s face and he narrowed his eyes. “Good day? That’s it? Valdo, are you ill? I did take the title back already, didn’t I? That must be it! I’ve never seen you like this. Ah, it must be such a burn to know you’ve finally been bested by a true bard and exposed for the talentless hack that you are.” As he spoke, he gestured grandly with his hands. Valdo only winced once at the mention of being ill and firmly kept his gaze on his mug.

“Everyone already knew you’re the attractive one between us, Jaskier. No need to rub it in.”

Jaskier ceased his obnoxious flailing and took an actual seat at the table with him. He crossed his arms on the table in front of him and leaned in, lowering his voice to avoid being overheard. “Okay now you’re actually worrying me. I was expecting snide sonnets on my unruly mop and ‘lustful gaze’. Jabs, put-downs...anything but this. You are actually sick, aren’t you?”

Valdo slammed back the rest of his ale and stood up abruptly. Jaskier’s mouth dropped open in shock as he was glared openly at by his once-rival turned unnatural crush. “Leave off, Jaskier. Go bother the brothel workers.” And with that final gritted out jab, he stomped out of the tavern.

Jaskier was still staring in shock at the empty spot before him when the barmaid strolled by.

“You’ll catch flies, you leave your mouth open like that, boy.”

He clicked his mouth shut and quickly made his own way out and back to his lodgings.

This just wouldn’t do. What was Valdo’s game? Was he finally making good on all of Jaskier’s assholish attempts to make them public nemeses? Maybe Valdo could read minds; realized the strange feelings the bard had begun to have towards him and decided he was thoroughly disgusted by him.

Jaskier let himself slink into the beginnings of a depression and decided he’d just have to try and shake that off and find out what was going on with his Fri… Rival.

He followed Valdo whenever he could, ambushing him after lectures and hunting him down in pubs. He startled him so fiercely one of these times that the other bard broke down into what sounded like a very painful coughing fit, enough that caused him to pull out a handkerchief to cough into until his lungs settled from the surprise. He found this odd, and then odder still when as he went to ask after his well-being, Valdo abruptly shoved the handkerchief away and growled at him. Growled! Like some angry dog! And left Jaskier once again staring after him as he stomped away, agog.

A month later, Jaskier’s persistence had turned into straight up concern. Valdo was less angry with his antics and instead seemed constantly tired. There were bags under his lovely brown eyes and his hair had turned greasy and less kempt. He consulted these odd symptoms with a friend studying medicine and she mentioned it sounded like some sort of wasting disease. Jaskier was only familiar with a few of them, but none of them sounded like a pleasant time.

So, while still firmly trying to convince his brain that Valdo was still an absolute Arse and absolutely did not deserve his time or affection, Jaskier made soup. Warm pot nestled in the crook of his arm, he marched up to Valdo’s residence and knocked firmly on the door. No one answered. He knocked again. Deep coughs followed by the sounds of mild choking came from within and Jaskier decided basic decorum was right out the window. He pried open the door and rushed inside, looking for the source of the distress.

And there was Valdo; laid out on a lounge chair looking even worse than usual and slowly lowering a cloth from his mouth. There were flecks of blood on his lips and it appeared as if he couldn’t draw a full breath. Jaskier plunked the soup pot right on the floor and went directly to Valdo’s side.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were so ill?” He asked softly, dropping all the pretense of being a rampant jerk.

Valdo just looked at him sadly, too tired to muster up his recent attempts at dismissal. “I did not want you to know, Jaskier. You’re like the sun. So warm and happy. I could not bring myself to have you worry so I pushed you away.”

Jaskier’s eyes went a little wide and he reached out to take Valdo’s hand. It was so cold in his own, and he could make out the fine bones in his fingers. A wasting disease indeed. He rubbed his thumb over the other’s knuckles and shook his head slightly in dismay.

“I’ve been a right arse to you for years. Look at us. Idiots to the bitter end.” He murmured wistfully. “Is… is there anything I can do to help? To ease anything at all? I, uh… I made you soup. I thought it might be… nice?”

Now it was Valdo’s turn to look surprised. He squeezed the hand in his and looked over at the pot on the floor. “You made me soup? You’ve never made me anything.”

“Okay yes. Fine. That is true. I’m a complete and total jerk. My feet should not be gracing your illustrious doorstep, my knees not fit for your carpet. I’m sorry, okay? You’re talented. So talented. I’m at a loss without your poetry to bounce my own works off of.”

At this confession, Valdo cracked a little smile. “Maybe there is hope for you and I after all, dear Jaskier… You see, I ha-” A painful coughing fit cut him off abruptly, the force of it causing Valdo to nearly curl in on himself, clutching the cloth to his mouth as his body attempted to forcefully remove whatever was clearly killing him. Jaskier kept his hand firmly in Valdo’s as he tried to rub the other’s back in comfort. The touch seemed to help in some small way, and the hacking died off. Valdo slumped backwards panting, the hand with the cloth falling into his lap.

There, amidst the spattering of blood, lay small bright yellow flowers. Jaskier gasped loudly and shook his head.

“No, it’s a myth. It’s not real.”

Valdo attempted to clear his throat as he bunched the cloth with the flowers up and tried to hide it from view. “You of.. Of all people… .should know the… power of a story… where they come from...the truths hidden in the tales….We’re storytellers.. It’s.. poetic in it’s own way…”

“It’s a tragedy born of the old stories, is what it is. Wasting away from unrequited love? It’s madness. No one actually dies of a broken heart.”

“I’m not heartbroken, Jaskier. I’m simply in love with someone who is my sun and sky… and who absolutely cannot stand me. It will make the most glorious tragedy. I have already begun to write it.” Valdo smiled brightly as he caught his breath better and shifted to sit more comfortably. He squeezed his hand once more before letting it drop. “With any luck, I will finish it before I can no longer write.”

Jaskier stared into the middle distance over Valdo’s shoulder, taking it all in. It all seemed too outlandish to be real. Things that happened in tragedies and stories never actually happened in real life. Soulmates weren’t real. Kisses didn’t break curses. And people didn’t suffocate slowly on flowers for being rejected. But as he slowly shifted his gaze back to the pale, but still softly smiling, face of the absolute nuisance that was Valdo Marx, at lot of things clicked into place for him.

He had never hidden pithy put-downs into his sonnets. He had never crafted masterful insults through his songs. He had honestly and truly sung from the heart and he had called him his Sun. Valdo had been unashamedly, unabashedly, in love with him from the start. He was coughing up small yellow flowers… Buttercups...and had slipped back into waxing poetic over it all. Lord, the fool was fully gone on him. And he had been nothing but the most righteous arse over it all, so very full of himself and sure that the other was somehow mocking him and jealous of his talent.

Turns out it was Jaskier himself who was the pompous wastrul and talentless hack. He shuffled forward on his knees until he was flush against the lounge. Valdo looked over at him and lifted an eyebrow in question. A beautiful eyebrow set in a beautiful face that Jaskier was tired of pretending he wasn’t also long gone on as well. What was it that the storybooks always said saved the day, woke the princess, broke the curse? Ah… yes…

Jaskier set both hands on the cushion of the lounge and angled himself just right to gently lean forward and press his lips right against Valdo’s own. The man below him went very very still. His lips were soft, but the lack of any response twisted something uncomfortable in his gut and he slowly broke the kiss and moved away, eyes cast downwards.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“Jaskier, what-?”

They spoke at once. Jaskier looked up and noticed color on Valdo’s cheeks, his mouth slightly open and his eyes nearly comically wide in shock. He swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat.

“I’ve been a right arse to you, but I love you, Valdo Marx. And I do not wish to see you suffer a moment longer. It will kill me too.”

Valdo’s eyes fluttered shut and he let out a deep exhale. Jaskier panicked for a brief second, wondering if he had actually killed him, before he sucked in a very long and full breath and opened his eyes again. They shined with unshed tears and Jaskier had a moment to admire the sight and the warm feeling at finally giving in before he was being tackled to the ground in a crushing hug and warm tiny kisses were being pressed to whatever skin the other could find.

A laugh erupted from them, and Valdo’s kisses shifted from surprised, affectionate pecks, to soft and tender kisses meant to explore the other’s skin. Jaskier shifted slightly under him and set a hand to his chin, drawing him back to his own lips to continue the kissing. Valdo hummed happily and nearly melted into what he hoped was now his new Beau. The university community was going to have a field day with this.

Jaskier rolled them over and slowly moved his head away. Valdo attempted to chase after one more kiss, making him chuckle. “As much as I am enjoying making out on the floor like we’re back in year one… are you sure? Are you alright? You were coughing up most of your lung a minute ago.”

Valdo smiled up at him and reached up to run his fingers through Jaskier’s hair. “Yes, my love, I am quite well now. You’ve restored me and I suffer no longer. Now the story I write shall have a happy ending. A proper fairy tale after all.”

“Well, if you insist. Though I would be grateful to continue this discussion somewhere that is not the floor.”

Valdo’s laugh was bright and filled him with warmth as they both got to their feet and he began to tug Jaskier in the direction of a more private space. “Anything for the prettiest bard in Oxenfurt.”

And wasn’t Jaskier pleasantly surprised when Valdo took it upon himself to demonstrate just how much better he now felt, repeatedly and with vigor. As it turned out, stories always had more truth to them than he had ever expected, for this cursed ailment was most assuredly soothed with a Kiss.

~End~

#jaskier/valdo #jaskier #valdo marx #hanahaki disease #witcher rarepair summer bingo #prompt fill

48 notes · View notes