#hoping for a different kind of treatment‚ just as she had

[eff4freddie]

Touch | Part Five

You struggle to re-establish a purpose in Jackson. But the Miller brothers will always keep you on your toes.

Words: 5.2k

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Warnings: smutty smut smut, oral (m receiving), kind of subby Joel maybe?, like shades of subby, whimpers and groans, carpentry

Minors DNI

You envied people who didn’t remember their dreams. Yours lingered with you, so much accumulated horror for your brain to draw upon. The crunching of dried-out fungus under boot. The squelch of blood running over clenched fist. The screams of your sister, reverberating with the screams of your dad, of your mum, of yourself. Formless and vacant of hope, a belligerent and unrelenting slideshow.

You woke with a start in your own bed, alone and trying to piece together how you got there. After Joel had taken care of you on the coffee table you had slumped towards him, head on his shoulder, and took in all the air your lungs could get. The exhaustion was overwhelming and you had felt yourself go limp in his arms, dimly aware of him lifting you, carrying you up the stairs. You’d had enough presence of mind to worry he was going to hurt his shoulder before he had you wrapped up in your blanket. You didn’t hear him leave.

You supposed you should be happy, but you had long started to suspect that it wasn’t really an emotion you were capable of. Even before outbreak day you’d had too much to worry about. You had already come to terms with the fact that happiness just wasn’t something your mind could do. Terror, though. That was your speciality.

At the bottom of the stairs, you peered through the front window at the rest of Jackson going about their day. Ordinarily, you would have been setting up for your first client, but you’d already cancelled them. You couldn’t bring yourself to look into the treatment room, hadn’t been in there since your table collapsed. The excitement of Maria delivering, the thrill of being somewhat useful, had allowed you to forget for a second that your vocation, the one thing that had got you into Jackson and probably saved your life in the process, was over. Without the table you were limited to straddling grumpy men in your kitchen, and that was a whole different job.

You glanced in at the living room, eyeing the coffee table suspiciously. You were running out of safe rooms in your house.

—

You kept your eyes down at the mess hall, only glancing up once or twice to ensure that the coast was clear. You weren’t surprised to see that Ray wasn’t there, assuming that he was manning the radio with Simon trying to scout any danger for Marla and the crew. The expedition was expected to take several days, longer if the weather turned. There was no cause for alarm, no reason to assume anything was amiss. But you knew Ray, and that that wouldn’t stop him.

Halfway through your porridge a tray dropped onto the table in front of you, and you startled, snapping your head up. You felt your stomach flip, the rolled oats no longer sitting comfortably beside the acid and bile in your stomach.

‘Mind if I sit?’ Ellie asked, already settling into the chair. You shook your head, swallowing heavily.

‘No, course,’ you said.

‘You looked lonely, you always look lonely.’

‘You’re very observant,’ you said, not sure if this was truly a compliment.

‘We just got back to Jackson,’ Ellie said, undeterred.

‘So I hear.’

‘I think we’re staying for a while,’ she went on largely without you. Her eyes had drifted to the middle distance, and you could see that she was thinking.

‘And how do you feel about that?’ you prompted. Her gaze shifted back to you, and she shook her head as if the thoughts were clinging to her clothes.

‘I’ve seen you around,’ she said, and you got the feeling she was starting the conversation over again, to see if she could improve it a second time. You let her.

‘Yup,’ you said.

‘You touch people,’ she said simply, and you blinked, had no idea what to make of it.

‘Umm…’ you started, and she interrupted you.

‘Dina says it helps people feel good,’ Ellie continued, as did your concerns.

‘What exactly did she day I do?’ you desperately tried to clarify.

‘You rub people and they feel good.’

Nope. Not better.

‘Massage,’ you spat out abruptly, ‘it’s a kind of therapy, physical therapy…but not like, it’s not…it’s good for your muscles, for your spine.’

‘Right,’ Ellie said, as if this was obvious, and you were very relieved to have got that sorted out at least.

‘You massaged Joel,’ she went on, and you wondered how hard it would be to jam your butter knife into your eye socket and remove yourself from the conversation, if not the planet, completely. ‘He told me it helped. Well he didn’t tell me, but he was all angry and sore…more than normal…then Tommy made him see you and he was better after that. He was his normal grumpy self, not his sore grumpy self.’

‘I’m happy to have helped,’ you said. You had given up trying to predict where the conversation was going, and now you were just tagging along behind her.

‘You did help,’ she said, leaning forward on her chair, up on her elbows on the table. ‘I want to help, too.’

‘You…do?’

‘Yeah I thought I could…I thought I was going to but, it didn’t…’ She looked around the room, flustered, and dipped her head lower to murmur underneath the sounds of the other tables. ‘I thought that I could help people one way, but it didn’t work out, and I just want to see if there’s another…fuck it actually, this is stupid.’

‘No, it’s not stupid,’ you said, and you reached out to put your hand on her arm, but she pulled it back like you had burned her.

‘You probably think I’m too young,’ she said, rolling her eyes but also really seeming to mean it.

‘I was your age who I started learning,’ you said, and watched as her eyes lit up, finally rising back to meet yours.

‘You were?’ she asked, and you nodded, grinning at her.

‘I think so, yeah. I mean, how old are you, Ellie?’

Like a shot her smile dropped, and she slunk backwards and away from you, receding into the chair and appearing to you to deflate to half her size. ‘What, what did I…’ and then you realised, cursed yourself and your remaining three brain cells. She hadn’t told you her name.

‘Who’s been talking about me?’ she asked, so quietly you only just heard. You swallowed. You remembered what it was like to be a teenager, to be relentlessly comparing yourself to your peers, to the women in magazines and on tv, to be relentlessly self-conscious, to be convinced everyone is talking about you and also worse, that no one is.

‘I asked Maria who you both were who you arrived,’ you said, deciding it was safer to talk about Maria then it was to talk about Joel. ‘I saw how Tommy reacted to Joel, and to you, and I didn’t understand what was happening so I asked.’

Ellie nodded, considering this, and you could see she had already worked out that it wasn’t the whole truth, but you hoped it was enough truth that she didn’t disappear on you.

‘What did she say?’ she asked, and you thought very hard and very fast to think of a good answer. You would have preferred a minefield.

‘Just that you were Joel’s kind of adopted daughter and that you’d been out of town for a while…and that she was super happy to have you back.’ You prayed the last part would ring true in some way, that it would be enough to reassure her. ‘Maria cares about you a lot.’

‘Maria doesn’t know me,’ Ellie replied. I don’t trust that he’s not keeping her in the dark.

‘She doesn’t need to, she just cares anyway,’ you said, and you meant it.

A loud group of teenagers, slightly older than Ellie if you had to guess, pushed into the mess hall and you watched as she pulled away from you even further, taking up residence about three centimetres back from her own skin. Her eyes were hard, vacant. You had seen the same look on Joel, and you knew then that she was a quick learner.

‘Ellie-‘ you started, but she was pushing her chair back.

‘Never mind,’ she said over her shoulder as she hurried away.

—

The mood in the town shifted over the next few days. Neither Marla nor any of the other crew had radioed in since reaching the third checkpoint, and there had been heavy, low-hanging clouds threatening the mountains. You had wondered about going in to see Ray, but you weren’t sure what you could say that would be any consolation. You worried, perhaps unfairly but also perhaps not, that you would say the wrong thing, that in your haphazard if well-intentioned way you would lose him, too. Instead, you stayed away.

You also avoided Joel. You felt the urge to keep a respectful distance, to try and pretend like it had never happened, like you hadn’t grasped his shoulders and come harder than you had in literal decades. You weren’t sure if you remembered ever having felt the way he had made you feel in an embarrassingly short period of time, but also you weren’t sure what it meant, if anything. If this was just something that Joel did, how he kept himself busy at the end of the world. You didn’t want to be his distraction, and you didn’t want him to distract you, especially when you had so much to pointlessly worry about.  

You’d had boyfriends, one before outbreak day and two and a half in the years after. A lot of the time it was convenience, sometimes protection, but never passion. You’d read that during times of national crisis birth rates skyrocket and you’d never been able to understand why. Nothing about a brain-obliterating fungus was all that attractive to you. You wondered if what had happened with Joel was just about you finally feeling safe. If it was less Joel and more Jackson. You felt better about things, if that were true. You hoped it was.

You took the short walk to Maria’s, a tray of lasagne in your hands that you’d begged and borrowed at the mess to be able to make. There wasn’t any oregano or basil, so you just got generous with the salt and hoped for the best. You thought about your mum’s cooking, which wasn’t really all that great either. Her method was throwing Italian herb mix in to any pasta sauce in the hope that it would make it taste better than the sum of its parts. It rarely worked, but you couldn’t blame a girl for trying.

You stood on Maria’s porch, not sure if you should knock. You were worried about waking the baby, or waking Maria, or that the wrong Miller brother would be home. You worried that you wouldn’t be welcome, that you’d done too much at the birth, that you had overstepped in some way that you weren’t aware of but that would make it impossible for Maria to now be your friend.

Just as you were about to leave the lasagne on the front porch and make a break for it, the door swung open, and you were met with Tommy’s surprised face.

‘Umm, hi,’ you said, taking a step away from the doorstep without even noting. Tommy looked down at your hands, took the lasagne from you and put it gently on the console inside the door, then wrapped his arms tight around you and pushed all the air out of your lungs. You couldn’t even gasp in surprise.

‘You…’ he said, and he trailed off, and you felt the warmth and the comfort of his arms, and you suddenly thought you might cry. You pulled away, fast.

‘How are they?’ you asked, and Tommy beamed. Looking at him now, you realised he was absolutely exhausted, dark circles under his eyes.

‘Come see,’ he said, pulling you in and shutting the door behind you. You could hear humming, contented gurgling, and followed it into the lounge room. Maria was sitting up on the couch, son at her breast. She smiled when she saw you, and you looked down at the baby in her arms, and felt love physically enter your body.

‘Oh Maria,’ you whispered, and she grinned back at you.

‘I am so fucking tired,’ she stage-whispered, and you had to try hard not to laugh too loud. His little fist was balled up and resting on her chest, and you could see the tiny thumbnail, purple and deep red, and it was too small and too precious for the world around it.

‘I have to go…run an errand,’ Tommy said quietly from the doorway. ‘Will you two be OK?’

Maria waved him off.

‘I ran off the other night before I asked you his name,’ you said, coming to sit beside Maria so that she didn’t have to turn her head to talk to you. She leant into your shoulder, and it was peaceful and warm and the kind of thing you do with a good friend, and you wondered if she’d object to adopting you.

‘We were going to go with Joel Junior,’ she said, and you wrinkled your nose.

‘Too alliterative,’ you said, and she nodded.

‘Also still not convinced about him,’ she said, and you felt something shift in your belly.

‘He was good the other night, with Tommy.’

‘He saw a lot of me I never intended him to,’ Maria said, and your heart sank. Should you have got rid of him? He was there for Tommy, you realised, not Maria. Should you have objected, said something? Had Maria been trying to telepathically tell you to do something, and you missed it? ‘It’s OK,’ Maria said, sensing the way your body had tensed. ‘I wasn’t really paying much attention to him, in fairness.’

‘You were kind of busy,’ you agreed. You listened to the baby suckling quietly, little contented grunts coming from his throat. ‘So, it’s not Joel Junior,’ you prompted.

‘Robin,’ Maria said. ‘There are so many here in Spring, and I love their little songs.’

You reached a hand out to cup his head in your palm. ‘That’s perfect,’ you said. For a long moment you just watched him, the peace of him, so wrapped up and warm and safe in the arms of his mother. You ached for your own for a second, before you pushed the thought away, told yourself this wasn’t the time.

‘It feels different out there,’ Maria said. ‘I can even tell, and I haven’t left the house in days.’

‘Vibes aren’t great,’ you agreed.

‘Tommy’s worried, but he won’t tell me.’

‘The expedition is just taking longer than it should,’ you said. ‘If there was anything to tell I’m sure he would.’

Maria regarded you for a long moment, and you realised she wanted more answers, but you had none to give her.

‘He’s like Joel, like his big brother,’ Maria said eventually, and you felt heat up the back of your spine. ‘Protective,’ she added. ‘To the point of locking you out in the cold to save you from the monster under the bed.’

—

You kind of wished Maria would stop dropping truth bombs on you, then leave you to work through the rubble on your own. You walked the long way back to your place, down behind the hall and past the lake, just to see if you could push her words out of your body through your feet.

It meant that you arrived back on your front step just as the sun was setting, and you were surprised to see the lights in your house on. You were sure you wouldn’t have left them on in the daylight. You pushed the door open, trying to remember if you’d locked it. No one did in Jackson, but you liked to when you were going to bed, partly to believe that you could do anything that might prevent some kind of harm.

‘Hello?’ you called down your hallway, thereby alerting any potential attackers to your exact whereabouts. You rolled your eyes at yourself. Jackson had definitely made you soft.

There were no weapons in your entry way. You considered whether taking your boots off and throwing them would cause enough of a head injury to get away, but it would be harder in your socks. In Chicago you’d kept a baseball bat beside the door, and used it only once.

‘That you?’ you heard a voice call, and you paused. Were you ‘you’?

‘Maybe?’ you called back, and you heard two sets of laughs. One deep and huffy. You’d recognise it anywhere. Your feet moved all by themselves.

Joel and Tommy were standing in your treatment room. The broken table was gone, and in its place a brand new, clearly custom made, massage table stood. Thin enough so that you didn’t need to climb on top of it to rearrange the towels, and just the right shape to give a body a warm and safe place to rest.

Your hand flew to your mouth, and you felt tears pushing hot onto your cheeks. Tommy grinned at you while Joel watched, careful and reserved. You didn’t have words, could barely wrap your head around what you were seeing.

‘You helped so well with Maria, kept her going when anyone else would have quit,’ Tommy said, while you were trying hard to breathe. ‘You did so good, so we wanted to say thank you.’

You let out a gasping, gulping, tearful laugh, nodding your head at him. ‘That’s OK, you’re welcome,’ you said, but you were laughing and crying simultaneously, so it was hard to know if you’d made any sense.

‘It was Joel’s idea,’ Tommy said, smiling at his older brother, who promptly blushed and looked ready to murder him. ‘Come look,’ Tommy said, extending a hand towards you and pulling you by the arm further into the room.

The massage table had built-in padding under a leather cover, that was attached to the wood with studs along the edges. The leather had clearly been something else in a past life, the stitching haphazard and criss-crossing over the base, but you would cover it with towels anyway. You pushed a hand out and pressed down on it, finding it delightfully spongey, and soft. You wanted to lean down and put your nose to it, inhale the leather, the warm sunshine on swatches of yellow and green fields. Inhale a different life, an older one long passed.

‘And here, this is the headrest,’ Tommy said, continuing his tour. ‘It sits in its own little track carved in here, see? So you can remove it or slot it back into place. Maria said that’s what the proper tables used to have, so you could lie face down.’

You nodded, confirming that this was indeed true. You reached out and put your hands on it, let your fingers reach underneath to feel the joins in the wood. They were smooth, carefully crafted. You knew they were Joel’s, carried his strong but gentle touch, his precision, his care.

You gazed at him, completely blindsided by the craftmanship and the generosity. The moment hung in the air, the two of you watching each other. You wanted to tuck your head under his chin and cry into his chest, wanted to rip his shirt off him and shred it with your teeth so he could never wear anything ever again, wanted to hold his face in your hands and keep it, not let the moment pass, let your hands on his skin secure the warmth there, hold the look on his face, for eternity.

‘I should head back,’ Tommy said, and you pivoted immediately towards him and threw your arms around his neck. He laughed, wrapping his arms around you. ‘Now we’re square,’ he said, and you gurgled your acceptance.

After he left, you worried Joel would go, too. Worried that all of this had been obligation, had been at Tommy’s insistence, had been a way of winning Maria over. Worried at how badly you wanted him to stay, worried that it wasn’t just Jackson but that it was him, that it was always going to be him, and that right now every nerve ending was on fucking fire just because he was looking at you. You waited for him to grunt or nod at you and turn his back, but he stayed standing, his brows knitted together, one hand on his hip.

‘It’s beautiful,’ you said, because the tension was starting to mount now that Tommy had gone, and if he kept looking at you like that you were going to combust. Your voice wobbled, and you swallowed glue and razor blades to try and steady it. ‘Where did you get the leather?’

‘Found an old couch lying around, no bother,’ he said. His voice was low, like he thought you were going to run from the room, but in that moment you didn’t trust your legs. You nodded your head because words were failing you, but then suddenly you had too many of them, and they were all going to come out right now, all at once.

‘Its just that the massage table, I know it’s silly…but it was what I used to do before outbreak day, and it was kind of who I am or maybe I just think of it as that, but I just worry that if I don’t have anything to offer no one will keep me.’

Jackson. You’d meant to say you were worried they wouldn’t let you stay in Jackson. But that wasn’t at all what you’d said.

Joel took two steps forward, grabbing your face and rubbing at the tracks of tears on your cheek with one hand, the other snaking behind you to hold your back. You gasped, staring up into his brown eyes, the salt and pepper of his beard, the lower lip you wanted to nip with your teeth. You waited for him to say something, anything, but holding you was also enough. Under his patient gaze your breath slowed, you stopped feeling your heart thundering in your chest, felt your shoulders drop.

‘Joel…’ you whispered, and he was on you then, head dipping down to bite at the skin behind your ear, hand roaming over your hips to cup your bottom, grind you into him, where you felt him hard and heavy against your core.

‘Let me-‘ he started, but you stopped him, gripping him by the shoulder and pulling away.

‘No, let me,’ you said, suddenly bold under his wanting touch. ‘Table’s fixed now, so there’s no excuses.’

He cocked and eyebrow, blinking at you. ‘You want me on that?’

‘What’s the matter, don’t trust your craftmanship?’

‘Baby, a massage isn’t exactly what I-‘

‘Down to your boxers and face in the hole,’ you said, grabbing a towel from a nearby stack and putting it down on the leather.

‘You could at least help,’ he said, grumpy again, and you grinned happily at him.

‘I’ll step out and let you get ready,’ you said, in full-blown professional mode, just to fuck with him. He sighed, but he did as he was told, and you really fucking liked it, actually.

Once he was on the table you draped him, making sure he was comfortable. You rubbed your hands together to make them warm, then poured some cooking oil – the best substitute you’d found so far even if it did make the residents of Jackson smell like fried chicken – into your hands.

‘This might be cold, I’m sorry,’ you warned, and Joel grunted. You were glad he was face down so you didn’t have to see the expression on his face.

You started with his left leg, draping the towel over his hip and tucking it between his thighs. Straight away you could feel the tension there, the tightness of the calf, the hamstring ready to snap. You ran your hands in a vee-shape, thumbs tucked one over the other, up the back of his leg, stopping just below his glute, which you briefly considered leaning over and sinking your teeth into.

Joel’s skin was soft, and unbelievably hot to the touch, and you had to try hard to focus on what your hands were doing so that you could ignore the little whimpers, the little gasps, as you found and massaged away a knot. You ran your hands up the outside of his thighs, felt the muscles jump and tremor under you, dug your fingers into his hip flexors and heard him exhale, an almost sigh, as they released.

You got into trouble when you got to his back. You were aware of the fact that you were soaking your panties, worried that he would smell your arousal, worried that if he kept making noises like that you were going to drown yourself. You worked hard to keep your breath steady, remembered your lessons and imagined dousing yourself in freezing cold water, jumping from your back porch into the frozen lake below Jackson, hoping that might give you some relief.

The wide planes of his skin were marred by scars, by shadows of pain and hurt and memory. He carried a scar, an old one, on his right side, a graze that looked like a bullet, that you decided to ignore. As you pushed hard along his spine he grunted, the muscle seizing under your touch, and you worked against it, kneading at them like dough, lifting the fascia and breaking it down, working the adhesions, until it was buttery and smooth. You focused on Joel’s breath, saw the way his chest expanded as he inhaled, felt the enormous man, so scary and so gruff, so mean and so soft on the inside, gradually give in to you. You felt him relax, the tension leaving his shoulders as you worked them, careful to release the deltoid, to ease off the trapezius now that you could finally get at it properly.

You were tempted to leave him there, relaxed for maybe the first time in years, but you roused him, rolled him onto his back, put a folded-up towel under his head and another over his eyes to protect them from the light. With his face covered you could take your inventory of him. The scar on his right side, jagged and angry and new, the reason he’d been favouring it finally clear to you. The soft smattering of chest hair leading down to a light trail on his pelvis. The towel covering him, but not enough to hide the fact that he was hard, that he had tried to tuck his cock into the waistband of his underwear but that it was too thick, too long to stay fully hidden.

You moved up to his head, to his salt and pepper hair, and carded your hands through it, lifting his head and holding it in your fingertips. You watched as his eyebrows knitted together again, unsure, but then releasing, his mouth dropping open, as you heard his breath, ragged, escaping through his teeth.

‘Let me take care of you, baby,’ you whispered to him, right above his ear, mimicking what he had said to you on the coffee table, what had made you instantly wet and aching. You gazed down his body at the way his cock jumped. ‘Let me take care of this body.’

You let your fingers dig in a little to his scalp, a quiet little moan escaping him, the covering over his eyes giving him a sense of privacy as you unravelled him. You wanted to lean down and suck his bottom lip into yours, wanted to climb on top of him and sink your pussy onto his Roman nose. Wanted to come on his face and his fingers, wanted him to splash his come onto your chest.

‘This body that protects us,’ you whispered, leaning down and placing a kiss on his forehead, on his cheek beneath the towel. Putting his head back down and moving to massage his left arm, lifting it by the wrist and rubbing your hands over his bicep and onto his chest. He glistened, the oil mixing with his sweat under the overhead light, and you couldn’t stop yourself, then, couldn’t help but to bend and place a kiss on his clavicle, licking up to nip at his neck. You felt him shiver, a soft whimper escaping with his breath. You moved your hand from his wrist to his palm, held his hand with yours.

‘This body that serves us all so well,’ you said. ‘Let me take care of this body.’

He gasped when you kissed his belly button, licking and nipping down his happy trail to where his cock was now straining hard against the towel. You pushed it away, taking his cock out of his underwear and pulling them down on his hips, so that you got your first proper look at him.

As you expected he was thick, the veins on the underside pulsing, straining against his want for you. The head was so red it was almost purple, and you wondered how long it had been since a woman touched him like this, since he’d been touched at all. His hand grasped yours, the other fisting the towel underneath him.

When you slipped him into your mouth, inviting him into you, he groaned, grunted obscenities flowing from him. His cock was hot on your tongue, salty as he dripped pre-come into your throat. You kept your eyes on his face, his still covered, as his stomach rippled and his body tremored underneath you. With your other hand you steadied him, reaching up and holding the shaft while you bobbed, sucking hard on the head. You took a second to breathe, leaving little kitten licks on his frenulum, feeling his free hand let go of the towel and grip you by the hair.

‘Fuck, baby’ he grunted, his hips thrusting, pumping up into the air.

‘So strong, Joel,’ you said, before reattaching your mouth to him. He threw his head back, and you considered the irony of him breaking the brand-new table he’d built just for you by coming so hard he splintered the wood beneath him. His body was quaking, his hips bucking up into your wet, warm mouth and it was everything you had dared imagine it would be, right down to his gasping encouragement, down to his needy little whimpers that turned into moans of outright pleasure, of the feeling hot and electric right down to his toes.

‘Jesus, you’re gonna make me…’ he gasped, and you looked up at him, the towel having fallen from his eyes and him staring down at you between his legs, his hand on the back of your neck gentle and guiding, supporting the muscles as you worked him. You kept your eyes on his and your mouth on his cock as he shook, hips rolling, rutting against your pumping hand.

You slipped him from your mouth. ‘Just let go, baby. I got you,’ you said, covering him again as he did just that, shooting ropes of hot salt and desire across your tongue, holding your hand, groaning at the relief of it, at the release, and in that moment you had him, in that moment he was yours, gasping for breath and so soft and languid, looking down his body at you in awe and in wanting, sweat pooling in the hollow of his throat.

Taglist:

@orcasoul

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@littlemisspascal

@ilovejoel-andjavi

@giggly-otter

@harrysrosetatto

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@daddy-dins-girl

#joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller

[too-antigonish]

Morse and drinking in the 70s...

Long....because I can't write short. And obviously, a lot of you will already know this stuff...

Just want to take a moment to talk about alcohol and alcoholism in the context of the early 1970s and remind folks of how totally and completely different it is from how we see it today.

Drunk driving had not been outlawed in most countries. Not only that, it was widely regarding as funny—funny enough to be used as a regular “gag” in movies. Problem drinking was also seen as funny. There were regular cartoon strips about it. The “drunk” was a funny stock character in all sorts of plays and movies.

Alcohol was ubiquitous. We’re not just talking liquid lunches. We’re talking drinking at work, while you work—just as you see in Endeavour. Think about that for a second.

And politely saying no wasn’t something you did without social consequences. It wasn’t just seen as a personal preference. Unless you had a specific, acceptable reason, turning down a drink was often seen as stand-offish and judgmental or as a social snub. Teetotalism was regarded as rather naive and ridiculous—not something any man or woman of the world would embrace.

In the early 1970s, there was no widespread understanding of alcoholism as a disease. It was still seen very much as the consequence of personal weakness—still a matter of “If you cared enough or tried hard enough, you wouldn’t do this so it must be a character flaw.”

Plus, most people, “normal” people don’t have problems with alcohol, so if you do then there’s something abnormal and defective about you—most likely something you brought upon yourself.

And as a “personal weakness” and a “defect,” the shame around it was profound and the secrecy matched. If someone went away for treatment, it was very much akin to an unwed mother going off to have her baby and then returning without the child. You never spoke of it. You pretended that it had never happened.

If you were a kind person, you also didn’t go out of your way to parade babies in front of her or talk constantly about children when she was with you. But refer to it directly? Never. Ask for help? Never. It was always something to be hidden. Everyone did their best to forget that it had ever happened and saw this as the "kindest" thing to do.

When Morse returns from his “cure,” it would simply be assumed that everyone would pretend that nothing unusual has happened. Why he’s  just been off on a tour of the West Country and nothing else! Hope you had a lovely time! That sort of polite fiction was exactly what he would have expected upon his return. Anything more direct—at least in a public setting—would have been shocking to him and everyone else.

Where things break down, however, is in the more personal interactions. His relationship with Thursday is such that they can at least broach the topic of drinking. When they do, my impression is that Thursday is well-aware that Morse not “cured.” However, in the context of the time, saying this would be akin to saying, "You failed," because there was no disease model of alcholism in widespread use. You went to be cured and it worked or it didn't.

However, I'd also add that Thursday is almost to the breaking point with the cumulative strain he is under. He can’t cope with the “burden” of Morse being in a precarious state and he knows it. He feels desperately guilty about that—as well as about other things like Strange and Joan or about life having moved on so much while Morse was gone—and so he just shuts down. 

Shutting down is Thursday’s go-to strategy when he’s overwhelmed. We’ve seen him do it many times before. And part of that for him, is that he pretends that the people around him are ok—even if they are anything but ok. Not surprisingly, he does it the most with the people he has the closest emotional ties with—Win, Joan, Sam, and Morse.

So the only way that Thursday can cope is by having Morse be perfectly fine. Conveniently, his preferred coping strategy fits exactly with his society's expectations about how alcoholism works. If Morse is "cured," you don’t need to worry about sparing him the constant offers of alcohol in the same way that the young unwed mother might hope to be spared babies. You certainly wouldn’t embarrass him (especially after he’s been through the humiliation of rehab) by drawing attention in any way to a possible to the idea that he still has a problem. 

And finally, a last note on time context. The scene in the pub where Morse has that first drink after finding out that Joan is marrying Jim is utterly heartbreaking for so many reasons. One of those reasons, however, is that we know it’s the first drink—and that the first drink leads to the second, and so on and so forth. Then Morse says to Thursday, “They said the, the odd beer, the odd shot, does no harm…"Everything in moderation," they said,”  and we automatically assume he’s lying.

I’m fairly sure that those scenes were meant to be interpreted through our modern viewpoint. However, it’s worth noting that again, the model of alcoholism in the 1970s was nothing like what we have today. The idea that someone with a drinking problem/addictions needs to abstain entirely was not even close to universal at that point. It’s perfectly possible that the advice Morse is quoting is the advice he received!

#itv endeavour #endeavour morse #shaun evans #fred thursday #endeavour: prelude #thursday thursday #sort of #but mostly meta about alcohol in endeavour and the 70s

[fragmentedblade]

It's as if they're saying... "Why... why did you and Imbibitor Lunae commit such an unforgivable sin?"

I know that you have no interest in my answer.

...which is why I asked the question as you looked me straight in the eye. I've asked myself that same question infinite times... but was never able to find the answer...

Why... why is it that only the abominations can return time and time again...?

Why does someone like her have to be buried, burned to ash, and eventually forgotten...? Why!?

This play on questions that await no answer, yet are in their way a response to what was asked, is so good

#The way they manauver around silences and how they don't say straight away what they mean and meant and felt and thought #yet know and understand even in their not sharing the other's position #I love how it works with Jin.gliu's understanding of Blade seeking B.ailu but not taking her medication‚ #hoping for a different kind of treatment‚ just as she had #They stood in opposite sides of a board‚ with totally contrary opinions on the same matter‚ yet ended on the other side of each other #So similar both in stories‚ influences‚ relations and personality in some ways. So similar in movements in the end #So similar in drive to live beyond their death at the end of it all. Unable to let go and move on #Holding on to grudges and hatred and their sword if only to keep the pain and the memory alive if it's all that rests #I love them so much #I talk too much #Traces #Fragments and scraps #Why did you do it? Why is it that only monstrosities come back? Why did you do it? Why does she stay dead while my flesh restores itself? #Why did you do it? But seeing Bail.u is the best medicine she could have hoped for. And he did it‚ but is full of regrets #The absolute reproach and yet the mutual understanding is so good. It feels so natural and coherent. So human #I truly love them and their dynamic a lot #Also‚ obsessed with the fact that Blade says she stabbed him through his heart in the final blow‚ and how the image reflects it #'In the end‚ you stabbed me through the heart and left me and the sword in that withered grave' #'最后‚ 你刺出穿心一击‚ 把我和剑一起留在了那片枯冢' #I can't tell just how moved this whole quest makes me and how satisfactory it was to me haha #The Gongshu reference makes me want to scream every time #The weight of 'you left me and the sword' with how Blade and that sword are linked in life and death and change of being and name #Avfkabfkkd I couldn't love him more

[iiguess]

" there's times when i worry if people remember me when i leave. i can't really tell if i'm still in their memories when i do—-i mean, the chances of the universe removing those memories when i'm not there isn't like, completely zero, and i wouldn't be surprised if my whole existence got erased either. sometimes? that thought scares me. other times, i'm... relieved. "

" there's no one to mourn if the person never existed after all. "

#;; ɢᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀᴄᴛ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ( ic. ) #;; world hopper ( main verse. ) #once again a throw back to how sam has absolutely no clue how her world hopping affects the worlds she visits #like--she's going to worlds where she isn't supposed to be in #worlds that may have possibly had a different version of herself already living/lived in #and she doesn't know how things become once she's gone--if her disappearance means the end of her existence in people's minds #and this kind of logic is also somewhat based off the time her mom died #because sam? sam never got to spend too much time with her after her mom got treatment overseas #and those years of being apart kinda lessened the pain of her death in a way #adahld I hope this makes sense I'm still a bit eepy and everything #...tbh I doubt she'd say this outloud to anyone #she's still pretty secretive about this sort of thing so it's more or less just her saying this aloud while alone I guess

[dmclemblems]

Dimitri + Edelgard

Azure Moon -> Azure Gleam/Scarlet Blaze Parallels

#Three Houses #Three Hopes #Three Hopes Spoilers #Dimitri #Edelgard #even without it being an AU who knows if two/three years could've made a difference #against five/six years #while I'd say probably not it's at least clear Edelgard wasn't as gung ho in Hopes to go it alone #bc even in Houses I don't think she'd really want anyone's help in Zaharas #in Houses she was MUCH more fervent toward the idea that Dimitri was her enemy #her treatment toward him in Houses was awful by comparison to Hopes #it wasn't great in Hopes either but she at least had enough clarity in her mind and was free of TWS in Zaharas #it's ironic how she says the world outside won't be any kinder to her than the one in Zaharas #bc if nothing else the world to her outside wasn't unkind or kind by the end of AG #even though Dimitri walks away from her at the very end he could've taken that chance to just kill her #she was confused and powerless and instead of just ending it despite her having started the war he just walks away #tbh you could argue that AG was actually a GOOD ending for her bc in Hopes verse for all we know #like I said in a theory before a couple times the Edelgard we knew might have been a fabricated creation by Thales #because not only did she lose her memories of Dimitri but when Thales died and his magic wore off of her #she got them back but also either regressed to her childhood self or she at least got all her childhood memories back #so in a sense in AG's ending she gets to start over and be who she was going to be without having met Thales #you could say it's bitter that she lost a good chunk of years off her life if that was really a fabricated personality #but that it's bittersweet bc at least she didn't die and had the chance to resume her life from the point of losing her memories #it'd still be bittersweet too tho if she got her memories back and her personality wasn't fabricated #because she'd get her memories back only to realize she had waged war against her brother and only living sibling #it could end up with her feeling guilt for the things she did in that time bc she did them without the knowledge that she hurt family #and if you played SB then she also murdered two of his best friends and his adoptive father and now has to live with that guilt #tbh AG is the closest thing to a golden ending between both games bc everyone survives AND there's the possibility that #Edelgard was able to start over with her actual memories this time with as many people possibly surviving #in a timeline where she got her memories back AND took his hand was one where everyone could survive and move on from TWS

[lbcreations-blog]

Yandere Alastor with daughter reader

A Stag and his Fawn

‐-----‐----‐-----------------------------------

(Not proof read cause I'm tired but I need to post)

Masterlist

---------

Alastor was your adoptive father. He adopted you when you were both still alive. You were only a baby at the time, being left in a dumpster.

When Alastor was dumping bodys in the dumpster he found you, he was originally going to put you in a foster home, but when he saw you open your eyes and look at him seeming at peice, he knew it was a bad idea to put you in any foster home.

Of course, he could not just take you in. He had to get you some medical treatment. So he took you to the nearest hospital to get a check-up and other things. Then he had to do even more other things like birth certificate and adoption stuff. (You know, the essentials)

Anyways, once you were old enough, he taught you his ways of voodoo and murder. (You were already learning from about 4, lmao), and you became a perfect daughter to him (even though you were already perfect to him).

If you were to get bullied in school, those kids would regret it. He would also teach those kids' parents a lesson as well.

If you end up dying before him from it being someone's fault, he would torture that person/persons and eat that person's corpse.

Once he enters hell, he would search for you while aswell becoming a terrifying overlord. And once he finds you, he would pretend you are not his daughter in public so you would not get targeted. He knows you can look after yourself so he would let you in public by yourself, but a shadow will follow you.

But if you are an overlord, he wouldn't admit being your father, but he will treat you like his daughter in public, and he will let others' theories flow. (Overlord or not, a shadow will follow you, btw)

Now, if he dies first, he will patiently wait for you. You, of course, kill the one who mistakes your father for a deer. You then live life how he wanted you to, until you finally arrive in hell.

Once you arrive in hell, he ether will take a while to find you or find you quickly. If you quickly become an overlord just like him, he would be proud, like you have no idea.

(The ways he is with you in hell is the same as I explained in the first death choice.)

Of course, introducing you to people as Alastors' daughter, you will get interesting reactions.

The overlords would be shocked, to say the least, Carmila might like Alastor slightly more cause she has her own daughters.

Now the hotel's reactions ig

Of course, the entire hotel is shocked except for niffty and husk cause yall already probably met (I would tell you that, but that's a different kind of worm)

Anyway, sir pentious would be most likely terrified of you or just won't admit it.

Angel- well, Angel-... he's probably going to start off with sex jokes, and how unfair it is that some random bitch got to fuck Alastor. Your father was not happy.

Vaggie is very suspicious of you once you met. She knew how your father was, so you were not trustworthy. (Which was fair, you showed that same creepy smile your father did)

Charlie loved meeting you. She was and is so happy that Alastor has a daughter and she is and was happy to meet you. She was hoping to help you get redeemed, but you just told her you would rather be in hell with your father.

--------_______--------

I was going to make Alastor more yandere but because of 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑠, he's like that, ok? OK

I did get lazy at the end, so... Yyyeeeaaaa

Hope you enjoyed it

- 𝐋.𝐁 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #sir pentious #carmilla carmine #angel dust #vaggie #husk #niffty #fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfiction #x child reader #x reader #alastor x daughter reader #yandere alastor #yandere #yandere alastor x reader #yandere alastor x child reader #alastor x child reader #the radio demon

[hyuckswoman]

mark and you arguing pt2

pt1

genre: angst then fluff

summary: after rain comes sunshine, he finally listens.

pairing: mark x y/n

“good morning” you say to your boyfriend as you pass through the kitchen reaching into a cabinet to take out a glass 

last night had been tense, because of the argument you had a really hard time sleeping, waking up every five seconds. it didn’t help that your boyfriend was the exact same, the only difference between you two being the guilty look on his face

you wanted nothing more than to tell him to forget about it and just cuddle him to sleep because being mad at him or more like emotionally tired wasn’t easy. yes, he fucked up but he’s still the greenest of green flags ever and you just love him too much so being apart with all those angsty feelings was taking a toll on you

but you decided to stand your ground nonetheless, it couldn’t be like every other time where he swooned you with his words and you ended up forgiving him. he had to learn. and even on your end, it’d be fucked up to put yourself through this. so when you woke up this morning with no one next to you, you decided to not care. turns out he was just in the kitchen though

“good morning lovely, i tried to make breakfast, i couldn’t so i went and bought some, your favorite of course, i’m just reheating it right now, juice is in the fridge by the way” your boyfriend greeted you, his back facing you (which you 100% guarantee is because he’s shitting his pants and hopes the tension eased) 

it did not though

“not only did you call me bitchy yesterday, you also said some dumb ass thing about if you were with her.. mark you’re not dumb you damn well that it’s going to take more than breakfast to ease things with me, don’t piss me off so early in the morning please” you said pouring water into your glass, getting out of the kitchen. you and mark took pride in your communication skills, so you weren’t giving him the silent treatment more like you didn’t want to be in the same room as him right now because him acting as if nothing happened pissed you off even more 

the guy was going to have to practically beg for you to be okay with him again 

“..i know, and i’m sorry” mark sighed as he joined you in the living room with the food he bought earlier hoping that despite you not being happy with him, you’d still eat cause no matter how bad the situation is, it’s important to take care of yourself! 

“like i said yesterday, i heard you mark but you know.. actions speak louder than words, until we’ve reached a point where she won’t ever be the cause of a disagreement there’s always going to be some sort of tension” you said as you reached for the food. yes, the food wasn’t an enough apology but that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy it 

“i know, that’s why i’m going to see her later today, set some real boundaries, tell her off kind of because i do really- and i’m not just saying this to please you or whatever, she has crossed some boundaries that she shouldn’t have so yeah maybe her and i aren’t as close friends as i thought we were” your boyfriend says pouring your favorite juice into your now empty water cup 

first of all, you did appreciate your boyfriend doing all of that (FINALLY!!) but you weren’t going to explode with joy because of him doing the bare minimum 

second of all, your boyfriend is just as much in the wrong as she is. and you debated on telling him that he should also self reflect but decided that you truly wanted him to realize it without you spelling everything out to him 

so you just hummed to the news, finishing up your breakfast heading upstairs while your boyfriend cleaned up and got ready to meet his friend

external pov? 

“hi markie” his friend said as your boyfriend took seat in front of her 

“did i make you wait long?” he replied. despite him not greeting her, her smile grew as she realized he cared about her enough to worry about her time 

“no don’t worry i just got here, anyway you wanted to talk?” she asked in anticipation, it was probably going to be good news (although good news for her meant bad news for you) she hoped your guys maybe broke up or something 

“yea and i’m going to talk for a while so please do not interrupt me” he asked as she nodded eagerly waiting for the breakup news to drop 

“i wanted to talk to you about yesterday, or every single hangout we’ve done ever since i started dating y/n. like i said, y/n and i are dating and i truly think she’s the one so i want to do everything in my power not to fuck it up. and that includes you stepping over boundaries that you shouldn’t step over seeing as though we’re friends. i think last night made me realize how odd? you were around me, how your hands lingered on me maybe a bit too long for a friend, or how you cut off my girlfriend when she was trying to talk, how you made backhanded comments towards her and look, i'm not asking you to like her but she's my girlfriend and she deserves some respect and i'll choose her over you in the blink of an eye. that’s why i’m choosing to put some distance in between us, at least until i’m 100% sure your behavior won’t be the same” mark finishes his rant, his fingers playing with his ring, dreading his (impulsive) friend’s reaction

“ain’t no fucking way you’re being serious right now mark, i’ve known you my whole life and you choose some random girl over me?” his friend says angry that not only you guys are still together but he’s dropping her for..you?? 

“if you don’t have anything respectful to say about y/n i’ll just leave clearly you’re not listening” your boyfriend answers, his patience getting tested 

“no, you don’t get the last word i do. you want to drop me for her? fine. i’ll do fine without you mark but what you cannot do is put the blame all on me. yes, i’ve been inappropriately acting with you but it’s only because you allowed it. each time i thought i was maybe reading too much into the mixed signals you were giving me you reassured me by apologizing because- in your own words - she was being irrational. mark, you are as much to blame as i am and i won’t sit here and let you shift the blame entirely onto me because you allowed me to flirt with you, which is something you would’ve never done if you loved your girlfriend as much as you say you do. and for the first time ever, i do hope you guys break up but not because i want you to myself but because she deserves better than you. fuck you mark” his friend says leaving the café leaving a dumbfounded mark. 

i mean she wasn’t wrong, if he had set clear boundaries from the start she would’ve never flirted with him. your boyfriend started to wonder if that was perhaps the reason why you weren’t THAT enthusiastic this morning when he told you he’d make things right.

so the whole drive home, mark’s head was clouded with thoughts that mainly centered around him being the biggest asshole ever, not only from the words he told you yesterday but also from the way he’s been acting all this time. and it saddened him that he put you through all of that. 

it’s with a heavy heart that he entered your shared house, silently praying god you weren’t going to realize that you do deserve better than him (which he knew was selfish but didn’t care) 

« so… how did it go? i don’t know what you told her but if it’s the same thing you told me this morning I’m guessing she didn’t take it very well » you say watching your boyfriend enter the house 

you guessed it must have went sour judging from the gloomy face he’s making and how deep in thought he seems to be. You didn’t like his friend but you know he liked her very much so you hoped that she said something along the lines of ‘yes i understand and i’m sorry, i’ll respect your boundaries better in the future and i’m hoping we can still be friend’ to salvage their friendship but at the same time you weren’t a fool and you knew that it realistically could never happen 

« it didn’t go super great, we’re not friends anymore but you know in retrospect it’s not a huge loss she wasn’t as good of a friend as i believed she was » you boyfriend started sitting down next to you on the couch 

you wondered what was up with him though, he looked genuinely devastated and it worried you to see him in such state 

« then what’s up? i wouldn’t usually pry and instead wait until you open up to me, but mark i’m concerned you look… sad. and i know we’re in a disagreement right now but i still sincerely believe that you’re the love of my life so i hate to see you upset » you say as your boyfriend slowly lifts his head and looks at you with glossy eyes before his first tear shed 

you immediately hugged your boyfriend rubbing his back as he mumbled through tears about how you deserved better, which you were confused about where it came from, so when his tears quieted down you looked at him waiting to explain

« she just… she said something about how we’re both in the wrong and it upset me because she’s right and she made me realize it instead of me realizing it on my own.. and she said you deserved better and at first i thought whatever she’s just mad i don��t care but she’s not wrong. You deserve better than a boyfriend who lets his friends flirt with him and who dismisses you and acts as if their friend is correct. i’m not trying to victimize myself or manipulate you with my words i’m just really sorry that i’ve been such an undeserving boyfriend and i selfishly don’t want to let you go when maybe i should so, please, give me another chance and i’ll prove to you that i can be the boyfriend you deserve. i swear i’ll be better just please don’t leave me » you boyfriend says. 

you were honestly kind of taken aback by every single one of his thoughts. you did feel a little guilty at first but that quickly went away when you remembered why you guys were in this situation in the first place. 

« listen, like i told you i’m not mad. i was just tired of you not listening to me but it seems like you’ve heard me this time even though i wished it had not gotten that far. i love you and i do not deserve better than you, you fucked up but i fuck up all the time as well and even though i did not picture the end of this situation with me reassuring you, it does not mean that you’re manipulating me, you feel guilty and that’s normal because you messed up but we’ll move past this. it’s a little bump in the road. and i sincerely think that if this situation has taught us anything it’s that we shouldn’t listen to your friend, ESPECIALLY when she says you’re not good enough for me. now dry your big boy tears and let’s go watch a movie yea? all is better don’t worry anymore » you told your boyfriend. 

you really meant your words, everything that mark needed to learn from this he learnt, you knew him well enough to guarantee that you won’t ever be put in a similar situation ever again and that this whole mess kinda made your boyfriend grow up a little? 

plus you were never one to hold grudges, so finally calling this fight over to cuddle and watch a movie with your highly sensitive, still borderline crying boyfriend was quite an easy thing to do. And even though you told him it was okay the next billion times he apologized to you during the following days, it did not stop him from spoiling you with gifts, kind words, actions etc.. like the man shoved all five love languages down your throat and even though it wasn’t necessary, it was always nice and made you feel loved.

that’s why in retrospect, you were (kinda) glad this whole thing happened and he was glad he learnt how to be better for his pretty girl. 

#nct dream #mark lee #nct imagines #nct #mark x y/n #mark lee drabbles #mark x you #mark angst #mark x reader #mark imagines #mark fluff #nct angst #nct drabbles #nct fluff #nct x reader

[fairydustblossom]

encroaching promises

azriel x reader

summary: based on this request "I would love if you wrote something where Azriel was a dick and he has to GROVEL. (Angst feeds my soul) please and thank you."

category: angst (i just rly love it)

word count: 4.8k

warnings: slightly nsfw in some parts, emotional (not physical) disloyalty ?? maybe ?? kinda ??

notes: umm this was so fun to write! it came to me so fast like I didn't even have to edit it?? hopefully it's good lmao anways i hope you enjoy this @liddyr03, thank you for sending in a request!!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Something had shifted between you and Azriel. It had been a gradual shift, one you had felt coming on for some time- but you could have never expected the reason for the growing distance between you and your mate.

He had been working longer hours, waking up earlier, barely spending any free time with you and you knew the middle Archeron sister had a part in it. You had tried to ignore it, their growing closer. Azriel had taken a liking to her. At first, your heart had warmed at Azriel’s willingness to help. There had not been many opportunities in his life where he could help someone directly, not just in a battlefield or in an interrogation room. You witnessed the impact it had on him, you could feel his inner peace, the way he viewed himself, his self worth improving- and you were proud of him. You really were happy that Azriel was finally seeing himself in a way you had always seen him. You believed in kindness, in helping others, in going above and beyond for someone in need, you had always preached it to Azriel. It had been one of the things that had drawn him to you, seeing in you traits he wanted to possess. But now, it had gone too far. 

You had noticed Elain and Azriel growing closer and closer. You had pushed your wariness aside, opting to be kind to her, hoping to help her in the way Azriel was doing so. Maybe she could be a good friend to you both, you thought. But Elain had not been as welcoming to your helping hand. Instead, she had treated you as she had treated all other fae, like you were a monster, personally responsible for her family's misfortune.

You tried time and time again to be graceful, to brush off her rudeness. You chose to be understanding, to put yourself in her shoes. But still, she treated you poorly. When you would join Azriel in visiting her, you noticed the difference in treatment. How she would look at him, and how she would look at you, like you had something she wanted. 

Eventually, you stopped joining Azriel in his visits, finding it hard to control your feelings of jealousy and not wanting to come across as an irrational possessive mate. He was only helping her get better, you told yourself.

After you stopped going together, you noticed how his visits grew longer and longer. The longer he would be there, the more you would question it. What are they doing? Why is she keeping him there? Is it him that wants to stay longer?

The questions would run through your head until the moment he would walk into your shared chambers. You would lay your eyes upon your tired mate, but you would catch the gleam in his eyes, happy with himself for doing some good for once, and you would push aside all jealousy. How could you ever doubt your mate? The very same male that had worshiped you for years, that had vowed his undying love to you, who was bound to your soul. And so you would welcome him home with open arms, letting him fall to bed, little words spoken of his day.

It kept on like this, for months, till a whole year had passed and you no longer recognized your relationship with Azriel. You barely spoke anymore, going through your established routines around each other in silence. What had once brought you so much comfort, now left you fretting that something had irrevocably changed. You knew next to nothing about what Azriel was thinking, of where he spent his days, although you had a good idea of who he spent them with. You who had once been his closest confidant, wrapped in his arms till late hours of the night, whispering every thought that crossed through your minds to each other. You were barely having any sex. What used to be almost a daily activity, was now a hurried fuck in the dark, taking no time to explore one another's bodies, only looking for a quick release. You hadn’t actually seen your mate’s body in months. Had Azriel finally had enough of yours after all this time?

Elain’s smell had practically been imprinted on him. You never smelled any sex, no, and you thought, no you hoped, that Azriel would never do that. But it hurt all the same when you could smell her on his clothing, for that only happened when a fae was around all the time. 

You had decided to take matters into your own hands. You were waiting for Azriel to come home, wearing his favorite silk slip that you had surprised him with on the night of your mating ceremony. Determination drove you- you would not let him go to bed without first feeling satiated. 

And so you waited, your belly fluttering with parts equal nerves and excitement. You were excited because you knew your mate would melt at the sight of you, and love on you like you were accustomed to. You felt maybe all you and Azriel needed was one night to destress, to reconnect and everything would be back to normal. 

When Azrile came home, his eyes immediately darkened at the sight of you, he recognized the slip you were wearing, images of your mating ceremony flashing through his mind. He was overcome with need for you and it only took a matter of minutes before you were pressed up against the wall, lost in a hungry kiss. You sent all your excitement down the bond and he groaned into the kiss, sending his desire right back. You were elated, nothing pleased you more than the feeling of Azriel against you and feeling the bond thrumming with need.

Azriel was quick to pick you up and carry you to your shared bedroom, tossing you on the bed. You sat up on your knees, wrapping your arms around his neck, wanting to slow this down a bit. You could feel how badly he wanted you, not only through the bond but by the bulge pressing into your flushed bodies. The mother knew you wanted him just as badly, and any other time you would have given into your needs in a desperate attempt to chase the release you were craving. But you wanted to take him in, wanting to drag this out as long as possible, to drink in the sight of his glorious body that your eyes had been deprived of. 

You pressed your forehead against his, willing your breath to calm down. Azriel pulled his head back a bit, brows furrowing slightly and a look of confusion overtaking his eyes, “You alright, love?” a wave of worry flowed down the bond, his hands roamed your body, bringing you comfort and spreading warmth all over. 

You flushed slightly, butterflies erupting in your belly at hearing the pet name. Your ears perked, not having heard the endearment in so many months. Gods, you had missed him. You smiled shyly at him, and gave him a slight nod. Azriel felt his knees buck, so many years later and a single look from you could make him feel like the inexperienced younglin he used to be back at the camps. You looked so so lovely in that slip, the shy look you gave him, eyes shining with love, and the pink tint on your cheeks he had elicited all warmed his heart. He brought a hand up to your face, moving a stray piece of hair behind your ear, resting his hand at the base of your jaw all while staring intently into your eyes. When he saw your cheeks flush a darker red, he gave you a charming grin, amused and delighted by the sudden shyness in you. He loved that he still had that effect on you, as if you were meeting for the first time.

“I’m alright Az, just taking you in” you murmured, your voice sounding like honey to his ears. 

“You can take me in all you want Y/N, I’m all yours to look at” he murmured back, dipping down to place warm loving kisses on your neck. You were delighted by his words, breathing him in deeply, relishing in the smell of his arousal. You felt delirious and giddy all at once, yes, you thought, all mine. Wishing to remind him, you sent the possessiveness you were feeling down the bond, making Azriel growl and nip at your neck more feverishly, marking you as his. He loved when you claimed him just as much as claiming you, feeling lucky to have someone in his life that wanted him as badly as he had always wanted.

The feeling of Azriel’s nipping and sucking your neck urged you on to keep undressing him. Undoing all the clasps you had started unfurling downstairs, you removed the tight fitting top of his leathers. You ran your hands along his arms, taking pleasure in the warmth of his bare skin against your fingertips. Your mouth watered at the sight of him, trailing your gaze up his tattooed arms, to his chest, hands sliding along- when your eyes snagged on something just below his pec and you halted all your movements. Azriel buried in your neck still, stopped as well, feeling you tense up. You pulled back, taking a good look at what your eyes had seen. It was a tattoo. One you hadn’t seen before. 

Your heart sank, hurt overpowering any feeling of desire you had been feeling. The unexpectedness of the moment had left you vulnerable, leaving your side of the bond wide open for Azriel to feel the sudden shift in your emotions. He froze, suddenly panicked at why you were hurting and he pulled back, grasping your arms and holding you at arms length. He tried meeting your eyes, noticing they were locked in on his torso. When he looked down he saw what you were staring at. 

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the rose shaped tattoo resting on his right rib. You didn't know what it meant, but you had a feeling you knew what, or rather who, had been the cause of it. You thought of Elain and her precious garden. You thought of Elain and her treasured white roses. You couldn’t fight the tears that lined your eyes and you moved out of Azriel’s grasp to the other side of the room, wanting to be as far away from him as possible. 

Azriel felt his heart sink at the way you fled his touch, as if he had burned you. He saw the look in your eyes and felt his that his world was crashing down.

“What is that Azriel?” you asked, struggling to conceal the wobble in your voice, not actually wanting to hear the truth you already knew.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, looking down at the tattoo your gaze hadn’t drifted from and then looked back up at you. Forcing himself to look at you, even if it made him feel like the biggest dickhead.

“It’s… It’s a promise” he said, wishing he didn’t have to tell you and see the betrayal in your eyes. He had been avoiding this conversation, feeling disgusted at himself for having made the promise in a lapse of judgment.

He saw the fire ignite in your eyes, anger rising at his answer. You already knew it was a promise, and he was aware you wanted more of an explanation. He only hoped you could forgive him, for he did not know if he could forgive you if it were the other way around. Shame creeped up his spine and he mustered up the courage to confess his mistake. He had barely been able to look at himself since the tattoo had seared itself onto his skin and he had opted to ignore it all together- to pretend it wasn’t there. Azriel had done so much pretending, that the tattoo had been fully forgotten moments earlier when he had welcomed and encouraged you to look upon him.

At your lack of response, he cleared his throat and carried on, praying to the mother in his head, for he knew he was about to hurt you and he would hate himself for having caused you pain, “I made a promise. I-I made a promise to Elain.”

You looked up at him then, and the pain he saw in your eyes made him feel sick to his stomach, knowing he has caused it. “Y/N, I swear I didn’t mean to-”

You cut him off, your voice terrifyingly low “What did you promise her Azriel?” 

His cheeks were red and his body felt hot with shame as he replied, “I promised I would always be there to protect her.” 

His words, uttered barely above a whisper, felt like daggers to your heart. You flinched, unable to conceal the effect they had on you. The tears broke free, you managed to hold in your sobs by biting the inside of your cheeks, but you couldn’t hold back the tears. You were biting so hard you tasted blood, and the world felt like it was spinning. You couldn’t find any words, there was nothing to say. He had promised her something he was supposed to only ever promise you.

“I fucked up. I know I did, I’ve been working out a way to undo it.” He started to plead, taking a few steps to close the distance between you. You stepped away, not letting him get near, barely hearing his words over the rushing sound in your ears. “Rhys and Feyre have been helping me find a way to break it. We actually know how, the same way they broke their deal from under the mountain, we just need Elain to-”

You were done listening to him, his words only adding to the hurt you were feeling. Rhys and Feyre knew your mate had promised his protection to another? Did everyone know? Why hadn’t he told you? 

“Leave” you hissed at him. You didn’t care to hear his excuses, you were done. Never would you have ever spent so much time with another male, never would you have ever made such an intimate promise. 

“What?” he asked. He had been expecting you to react this way, for months he had been mentally preparing himself. But to hear you actually say it still caught him off guard. “Y/N, please, I can expl-”

“Leave” you said again, your voice strengthening with conviction. “Get out of my home, Azriel.” You felt if Azriel stayed any longer you would go mad, and you meant your words. This was not a home anymore, not with him in it. He had bound his soul to another, and kept it from you. If he remained here any longer, you don’t know what you would do. You could feel your power thrumming in your veins, begging for release. 

Azrile looked heartbroken, like a man that had lost everything he cared about in this world. He pleaded with his eyes, pushing everything he was feeling down the bond, hoping you would take back his words. When you only looked away as a response, he knew he had to respect your wishes. It pained him unlike anything else to leave you alone after the damage he had caused but he understood there was nothing he could do at that moment to make it better. He steeled himself, calling all his shadows to him, fighting with the ones that were wrapped around you trying to comfort you, and then he vanished.

You broke down when Azriel left, letting the pain of your failed relationship consume you. The image of the rose tattoo was all you could see behind your eyes and you ran to the bathroom to release the bile that had risen up your throat. You sat there on the floor, picturing all the interactions you had witnessed between Azriel and Elain. You could have prevented this, you couldn’t help but think, if you had only stepped in sooner. If you had only kept that girl away from your mate. If you had only shown her anything other than kindness. You had in a sense, lost your mate to another woman. For how could he spend his days with you when he promised to protect another for the rest of her days?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Azriel knew he had to fix this. He honestly had already been trying to, he wanted nothing more than to be rid of the promise he had made Elain. A promise that she had coerced him into. But to be rid of it, she had to be in agreement. Rhys and Feyre had helped him contact Helion and that is what he had told them. The High Lord of day had also told them it would cause great pain, which Elain had grasped onto in her refusal to break the promise. She argued she had been through enough in the past years to willingly put herself through more pain.

Azriel blamed himself, really. For letting Elain get so close to him, for having been there at her beck and call to the point she expected, no demanded, that treatment from him all the time. He had spent the last few months attempting to convince Elain to go through with breaking the promise. He was doing everything he could for her, hoping if he did enough she would come to her senses and consent to Helion’s spell. 

He kept telling himself she was only holding on to this because she had lost everything else in her life, it made her feel that she was finally in control of something- that she didn’t mean his beloved any harm. But Azriel had come to the realization that whether Elain meant to hurt others or not with her actions- she was being selfish with them. He was devoted to you and he would not let Elain cost him what he prized so dearly in his life. His mate, he kept thinking, he would not lose his mate.

Rhys and Feyre were curled against one another in the living room when Azriel winnowed in, looking distraught, wings drooped, and frantic shadows dispersing around the room- swallowing all light. He dropped down to his knees, tears lining his eyes as he looked up at his High Lord and High Lady. They were instantly alarmed, Rhys dropping to the floor to join his brother while Feyra went to Azriel’s side. Rhys grabbed Azriel’s face in his hands, quickly assessing him for any injuries, he tried peeking into Azriel’s mind and only saw your pained expression. Azriel dropped his head on his brother's shoulder, looking like a fallen angel, and he cried. “Please help me. Please, brother”.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

For the next few weeks, you had isolated yourself- putting wards around the house to prevent any of your family from winnowing in. You had felt each of them attempt to come in, to console you, but you refused to let them in.

You couldn’t forgive them, at least not anytime soon, for having kept this from you. You felt embarrassed. You didn’t know how long ago the promise had been made, you didn’t know how long they had known- all the interactions you had with your family since the time Elain came were now painted in a different light in your mind. Had they all thought you a fool? To let your mate get so close to another female, when Elains affections for Azriel had so clearly been written on her face? You couldn’t bear to face them, knowing they had kept this from you. 

You had also distanced yourself because you weren’t sure of what you would do if you came across Elain. Your territorial feelings had only been enhanced and you were scared of what you would do to your High Lady’s older sister if you saw her.

Azriel had tried almost everyday to talk to you, but you remained firm in your decision, refusing to yield to his pleas. You had received countless notes from Rhys, the only one who could get past your wards, and had burned them all. Until the latest one. You had been reading when a note appeared on the page you were on. Unlike the other ones, this one did not come to you unfolded so you had no option but to read the words they said.  “It is done. Azriel is recovering in the infirmary.” The note raised your heartbeat and caused dozens of questions to rise within you. Suddenly Azriel’s absence the past few days made sense. He had been resolute everyday since you had kicked him out in gaining your forgiveness, staying outside the door to your home waiting for the day you would let him back in. He hadn’t pushed or attempted to break through your wards, and you knew he could, he was the spymaster after all; instead, he had patiently waited, accepting his punishment. Every night, for weeks he had waited, until a few days ago, when he had disappeared and hadn’t come back. You figured he had gotten tired, or given up- you were still too hurt to find out why he had left. 

Now, worry filled you. Was he okay? What did Rhys mean by “recovering”? You recalled the time Rhys and Feyre had faked breaking their bond, fooling everyone by breaking the promise they had made instead- you remembered their shouts of pain, and that was the High Lord and the High Lady, the two most powerful fae in all of Prythian. 

You quickly stood up, pacing around the room, trying to decide what to do. Deep down you knew even if you didn’t go right now, adamant in your stubbornness, worry would eat you and thoughts of Azriel would consume you. Acknowledging you wouldn’t be able to go an hour without knowing, you made your decision and winnowed to the infirmary.

When you arrived, the sight of Azriel made you gasp. He looked awful. You could see the stark dark circles under his eyes, his ruffled hair, the pain expression etched on his face even as he slept. He looked thinner too, as if he hadn’t been eating well- he hadn’t, you learned later on, too sick at his own actions to feel any appetite at all.

You rushed to his side, grasping one of his hands, they felt cold, almost lifeless, and you reached deep within to the bond that tethered your soul to his, the bond you had buried deep down within you and ignored for weeks. You sighed with relief when you found it and tugged on it. He was still there you could feel, but the bond was dulled, as if life had been sucked out of it. 

You burst into tears, never having imagined that the beautiful bond you cherished would ever be in such a weak state. This feeling you had feared, the feeling of Azriel fighting for his life, of barely being there overwhelmed you.

You cried for him, for your love, for everything that had happened until your throat felt hoarse and the tears wouldn’t come anymore. You had sat there by his side for hours, squeezing his hand and murmuring his name over and over, tugging at the bleak bond, willing it to go back to normal. 

All night you spent by his side, the sun was now rising over the mountains of Velaris when you felt a hand land on your shoulder. It was firm and gentle- Rhys. You didn’t look up at him, your head pressed against Azriel’s hand, cradled within your own. When your tears had dried you had resorted to praying to the mother, you were convinced if you prayed enough he would be okay and you wouldn’t let anything interrupt the prayers that tumbled out of you. 

“Y/N” Rhys mumbled, sitting down next to you, arm now wrapped around you. “He’s going to be okay.” 

When he realized you would not acknowledge him until you felt satisfied with your orison, Rhys pulled you into a hug, waiting for you to finish. He does not know how long he sat there next to you, only that the sun was now high up in the sky. You slumped against him, still not letting go of Azriel's hand and started crying again. “You knew” he heard you say, and he felt a pang in his chest. He realized now that not only had you been hurt by Azriel, but he had hurt you as well. 

He nodded, “I’m sorry for keeping it from you.” He said “I was only doing what I thought best. I will let Azriel explain everything when he wakes up, I want you to hear it all from him. But just know I am sorry” 

He felt your body shake more violently at the mention of Azriel. “What if he doesn’t wake up?” you asked, voice small and filled with agony. 

“He will, Y/N. He will.” He pulled you away to look in your eyes, making sure you were taking in his words. “Madja and Helion have both guaranteed that he will wake up, his body just needs to heal.” 

You nodded, calming down slightly at his words. “How long has he been here?”

At this, he looked down, embarrassed to tell you he had kept yet another thing from you in hopes that Azriel could go to you himself and tell you he had gotten rid of the promise. “He has been here a few days, I-I didn’t take it would take long for him to wake up. I wanted him to be able to tell you.”

You only nodded, having already guessed as much, piecing together Azriel’s absence outside your door with his unconscious body. Later, you would give Rhys hell for keeping it from you, but currently you had no energy to fight. You leaned into his hug further, needing the comfort he provided and resigned yourself to waiting. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It took three more days for Azriel to wake up, Rhys had briefly explained that the impact had been greater than it should have been because they had manipulated Elain into consenting to break the promise instead of her going willingly into it. You could feel the anger Rhys felt towards his sister in law as he explained- making sure you understood they had coerced her in a way not too unlike how she had done to Azriel when he made the promise. Your anger towards Azriel had diminished, you still wanted to hear what he had to say, but you were ready to forgive him. All you wanted was for him to wake up.

You were sitting next to Azriel, head nodding off in sleep. After almost four days of little to no  sleep, you were struggling to fight it off. Your eyes had fully shut and you could feel yourself drifting when you felt the hand you were holding twitch.

Immediately you gasped and sat up, watching with wide eyes as Azriel’s eyebrows furrowed. He seemed to battle with himself to wake up and once he finally did you stood up grabbing a cup of water for him. He looked at you with daze eyes and croaked out, “I’m sorry”

Your heart melted, his voice was barely there and you shushed him, raising the cup to his lips, urging him to drink some water. He gulped down the water you offered, pulling back to catch his breath, then he looked at you again, eyes filled with sorrow before he whispered again “I’m so sorry, my love”

You only nodded, too overwhelmed with emotion to form any words. Instead, you pushed everything you were feeling down the bond and in return Azriel poured all of his love. You could feel how sorry he was, his love for you, his sadness. His eyes watered at feeling the bond thrumming again, he had been convinced he would never feel it again and he thanked the mother for blessing him with such an amazing mate.

 “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” he kept mumbling, groggy from his week-long slumber and unable to form any other coherent sentences. 

You shushed him and cradled his face to your body, peppering his face with kisses wanting to convey how grateful you were for your mate. You stayed there, curled up against him the rest of the night, letting him know how much you loved him, your mate, who had risked his life to make things right. 

“I would do it again, for you, I would do anything” he murmured, head tucked in the crook of your neck, before drifting off into sleep again.

#azriel #fairydustblossom #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acotar fanfiction #azriel acotar #azriel fic #azriel fluff #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel angst

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 20 || The Night of Regrets

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, alcohol consumption, angst, smut, & fluff. (!!Brief drunk sex warning!!)

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——AND OH HOW YOU HATE being alone like this. Especially because it wasn't just a one-day thing.

No, instead, Choso distances himself from you.

It hurts like hell too. His messages get drier, and he has an excuse for every time you try to hang out with him, and your calls go unanswered.

What a sweet form of torture it is to have your crush give you the same treatment you give your blackmailer. At some point, you think you wallow yourself in a self-isolating pit of pity.

Shoko thinks she hears less from you more than ever, Gojo still receives the same treatment as always, Geto tries to comfort you every now and then but it's no use, and Choso continues to set boundaries for you and him.

It gets pretty rough for you mentally after that.

How are you supposed to deal with being stripped of the company of the one man who sought to bring you joy? There were some nights you cried about it and some nights you took out that stupid journal with that stupid list and scribbled out every name there-- only to rewrite it back afterward.

Reluctantly, you ended up telling Gojo that you managed to sleep with Choso, to which he was quick to send you money. Getting paid was nice and all but the money felt meaningless when you no longer had Choso by your side.

What's another six thousand dollars when the guy you like won't even read your texts anymore?

The panging you get in your chest every time you think about it all is dizzying. After all, no matter how you think about it, none of it is your fault.

Sure, you could've had your bedroom door closed that day Gojo walked in but... would such a small change have made any difference to your situation? The man could've still recorded you. Hell, knowing him, he probably would've.

You hate him so much.

You wish you knew how to express just how deep your hate for him goes but it's difficult to do so as he tries to make up for his wrongdoings.

Every notification from Gojo never fails to piss you off but it gets one hundred percent worse when you no longer have Choso around. Not being able to get with the man you like is obviously Gojo's fault so anything from that man reminds you of the situation and you get upset all over again.

This leads to one night full of mistakes, regrets, and... surprises.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

What started your unfortunate night was a final text from Choso that consisted of him explaining that it's hard to talk to you because of how he feels about you.

It was a long paragraph that explained how every time he talks to you, he wants to express his feelings more and more, which ultimately makes it difficult for him to communicate with you because it hurts to know that he's not yours and you're not his. Very explicitly, Choso basically says he doesn't want you to text him anymore.

He wasn't rude about it or anything; even making sure to carefully request such a thing in kind consideration of your feelings. Though, that didn't change how much it hurt.

Choso was your way out, your slim form of freedom. And yet, you lost it.

Where does this lead you? To a bar.

Was heading there the best decision in the world? Probably not. Did you care? Not one bit.

You needed something to relieve your stress, something to take this weight off your shoulders, even if only for one night. So there you sat, swallowing down drink after drink after drink in hopes of washing away all the pain you felt.

Does the sting of liquor down your throat and warmth over your body help you feel any better? For a moment, yes.

It was like all the voices in your head stopped screaming for just a second. No longer were you cursing yourself out for every mistake you've made leading up to now and no longer did you think of all the terrible things happening to you right now.

Instead, you felt just a slither of peace again. The sounds of laughter and soft clicks filled your ears as you calmed your brain, sinking into a tipsy state.

After swishing down your nth drink of the night, you found yourself feeling incredibly good. Almost too good, honestly. Not only was your body warm and your mind at ease but, there was this annoying pulse spurring in between your legs.

The only downfall of you drinking your sorrows away was that you happen to be one of the most unfortunate forms of drunk. Not any angry drunk, silly drunk, or sad drunk but, a horny one. And terribly at that.

The feeling is frustrating actually. It'd been a while since you last went out for a drink and you almost forgot how ridiculously horny you get after some time. The throbbing you feel is so very annoying, especially when all you can do is mentally replay events with Choso.

The man has actually made you squirt more than once. And every time it was because he was giving you head. You recall riding his face once, as per his begging request, and at this moment all you can remember was the way he looked at you and that damn tongue of his lapping at your cunt.

Just thinking about it again makes you dizzy, your stomach churning as you remember it all. His deep guttural groans and pretty whines still echo throughout your mind.

Then there's the way he fucked you-- the feeling of his cock hitting all the right places inside you, making you cry out his name for hours on end, and his praising words... it all haunts your mind.

Shit, now you're really horny. You wish you could call him. If he wasn't upset with you, you'd definitely call him right about now. You're so worked up that you could probably get off on just the sound of his voice right now.

A sigh leaves your lips as you realize you can't even call him. God, you miss him so much and it hasn't even been that long since the last time you saw him.

With a frown on your face, you move to rest your cheek against your knuckles, holding your head up with your hand.

"Y'know, the last thing I expected to find today was a wonderful piece of ass sitting at this bar with a frown on her face," A sudden voice to your left points out.

You physically revolt against the man's words to you. You don't even spare the male a glance in response to his comment, acting as though you didn't hear him.

A sudden god awfully strong collonge seeps into your nose, the smell clearly expensive but unpleasant nonetheless. Then, in your peripherals, you notice this male leaning toward you.

"Oi, I know you heard me." He pesters.

With a groan, you cut your eyes over to him, eyelids rising at the sight. Just your fucking luck, you managed to run into Naoya at the bar and he's absolutely disgusting. Well, at least every time he opens his mouth.

His face on the other hand makes up for it, to some extent. Your gaze is met with sharp brown irises from the male who just spoke.

Your upper lip twitches as you scrunch your face up at him, disgusted by his words to you. "I wasn't aware you were speaking to me." You hum plainly, glancing away from him.

He scoffs, "I cannot stand women who lie."

"That's wonderful but, I don't remember asking." You comment, your tone cold.

The arrogant man tuts, "And she's rude too? Hah, juuust my luck."

Slowly, you force yourself to turn your head to him, your gaze void of emotion. "If all you came over here to do is foolishly run your mouth, I suggest you fuck off because I'm not in the mood." You say to him.

The corner of his lips pulls into a smirk. Damn the way it resembles Toji most weirdly. "What are you in the mood for then, dollface?" Naoya questions.

Ugh, you cringe at his question. He's so very lucky that you have a list to complete because that's the only reason you're tolerating him right now.

"Truthfully? Mindless sex." You blurt out. It's very obvious that you're drunk by this point because the sober version of you would've never uttered such a thing, especially not to this asshole.

A haughty grin spreads across his visibly handsome features and dyed blonde hair with deep dark green roots sways whilst he tilts his head. "Well, then you're in luck. I happen to be an expert at that." Naoya tells you with a wink.

God, you hate everything about his personality already.

"Is that so?" You ask dryly.

"Yeah," He responds, clicking his tongue, "Maybe if you're good enough I'll show you."

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Instead, you slide out of the barstool you sat at and-- oh. He's taller than you expected him to be. Even so, you blink away the realization and simply sigh at his words.

"If I'm good enough? Please." You reply, "How about this, since I'm not in the mood to argue with you and make you feel small, I'll give you two options."

His brows push together, "Make me feel small? Excuse me-"

"You can either fuck me or fuck off." You interrupt coldly. Beneath your drunken state, you wish he'd fuck off and magically disappear from the list but unfortunately, that's not going to happen.

Naoya stammers for a moment in reaction to your straightforward words. After a second of collecting himself, he shrugs, "Well..." He chuckles, "How can I say no when you give yourself up to me so easily?"

Another sigh leaves you, "Right..." You say, finally allowing your eyes to roll before you grab a rough hold of his shirt and begin to drag him away from the bar.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The whole thing is a mess.

For your first time having drunk sex in the bathroom at a bar like the true whore you've unwillingly become, it wasn't completely terrible.

Naoya may have a disgustingly offputting way with words but, he's not that bad as fucking you against the wall. Your chest and face are pressed into the cold bathroom wall as the man sloppily rutted into you from behind.

This was most definitely your lowest moment yet. The sex was so... vanilla. Naoya lacked foreplay in every way possible that you're pretty sure he doesn't even know what it is. Half of your moans were fake because there were only a few times when you felt the tip of his cock kiss that sweet spot inside you.

His thrusts were too fast and not in a pleasurable way but in a way that made you want to scoff. Naoya was pale in comparison to the past men you've been with. The only thing saving him was the size of his dick and the fact that you were already horny.

If not for those two factors, this whole thing would've been terrible. He tried dirty talk but it all went through one ear and out the other due to how terrible it was. To make up for that, you can't deny the fact that his grunts and groans turned you on.

"Aagh, fuck." Naoya would groan, his voice near your ear and causing your cunt to flutter around him.

There wasn't much else that he did that fueled your arousal though. You were mainly getting off on the sounds of sex and the few times he thrust into you at the proper angle. That aside, to even come close to an orgasm, you had to imagine you were with someone else.

It's sad but, at least the man's name would be checked off the list after this.

A single orgasm was building up within you the very second you imagined it was Choso with you. You could practically hear the way he'd moan into your ear, begging you to cum around his cock and make a mess of him.

The thought alone made your eyes roll back and you were so close. Then, to the least of your expectations, Naoya selfishly pulled out of you, leaving you high and dry.

Your brows furrowed quickly as you panted against the wall. With a loud grunt that fills the bathroom, Naoya cums embarrassingly onto the floor. You have to bat your eyelashes as you gather what the hell this man just did.

Surely he's not done... right?

To your disappointment, he is. The sound of Naoya fixing himself with not even a word uttered to you can be heard, his hands working his member back into his pants before he moves to wash his hands.

You blink in slow motion, pushing yourself off the wall and standing on legs that are also trying to process what just happened. You'd just been denied an orgasm completely.

You scoff, "Is this a joke...?"

Naoya raises his brows, "Is what a joke? You've fulfilled your purpose, you can go now." He dismisses.

And that does it for you. Annoyed, you move to hike your underwear back up your legs and then tug your dress down into place, feeling absolutely disgusted with what just occurred.

"You..." Another scoff exits your mouth, "You asshole..."

The man chuckles at your claim before heading toward the bathroom door, "I've heard worse." He hums, winking at you, "And hey, for what it's worth, you have good pussy." He... compliments?

You send the man a dumbfounded look. Is he for real right now? Like, is he so fucking for real right now??

"You could probably make lots of money off it, honestly," Naoya comments one last time before opening the door and leaving.

Your skin is crawling with an overwhelming feeling of disgust. Never in your life have you felt so utterly used. This feeling is worse than what Gojo's put you through. You're ashamed you even let that dickhead of a man put his dick inside you.

You shudder at what you just did, a permanent scowl stuck to your face. This is worse than when you thought Choso left you. Hell, you'd prefer that a million times over what that misogynistic fuckface just said and did to you.

After gathering yourself and making sure you don't look like a complete mess, you are about to leave the bathroom when the nasty mess he left on the floor catches your eye. Even drunk, you didn't have it in you to leave such indecency on the floor.

So, you were quick to grab paper towels and clean it up, saving the janitor who'd later have to come in there from doing so.

After that, you toss the paper towel into the trash and stumble out of the bathroom. With everything you just experienced, another round of drinks is screaming your name. There's absolutely no way you're going to allow yourself to sober up after that.

So, you make your way back over to the bar and return to your previous activities, now feeling so unsatisfied and unhappy with everything.

Every drink you swallow down merely provides you with a temporary moment of satisfaction. The second you feel that the excessive drinking isn't working, you feel sad all over again, just like how you did when you first entered the bar.

You wanted to cry and scream at the same time. Your head was spinning and your vision began to blur a little, terrible feelings bubbling up inside you as your regret washed over you faster than the alcohol washed down your throat.

When your eyes grew teary, you were quick to scramble for your phone. If not anything else, the one thing you could use right now is either a good fuck that'd make you stop thinking or, someone who can give you genuine advice so that you don't feel so shitty anymore.

And who can provide either of those things for you? Well, none other than Geto Suguru himself.

Your thumb swiped through your recent calls, hazily spotting his contact and calling him. The phone rings for barely even a second, the call connecting as soon as you lift the device to your ear.

"Hello?" The man's voice rings through your ears, making you smile ever so slightly.

You swallow, "Hi Sugu..." Your words are so obviously slurred to anyone listening.

There's a second of silence before he responds, "Hey, you alright?"

"N-No..." You hum, "Can you uhm... C-Come pick me up?" You suddenly whisper drunkenly.

You hear a sigh then some shuffling, "Where are you?" He asks.

You giggle, "The bar."

There's another pause. Then, you hear him sigh again, "What bar, sweetheart?"

"I'll send you the uhm... the uh..." Your brain suddenly freezes as you search for your words.

He makes up for you, "Address...?"

"Yeah, yes. That." You say quickly.

A slight chuckle is heard over the phone, "Alright, send me the address, sweets. I'll be there soon."

"M'kayy," You hum as you move to send him the address.

You end up simply sending your location but you were too drunk to see the difference, not that it mattered. As the message is sent, an amused chuckle is heard over the phone.

You furrow your brows, bringing the cell back to your ear, "What's so funny?"

"What're you doin' all the way across town, love?" He asks in return, finding it humorous.

You pout, "I dunno, can't remember why I came all the way-," You burp slightly, "Out here."

You can't see it but the male shakes his head, "I see. Are you drunk?" He asks, tone concerned.

You smile, "Mayyybe."

"Maybe? Yes or no, sweetheart."

"Yeah, kinda." You sigh.

He hums and you can hear soft car noises in the background, "And I assume you're alone...?"

"Mhm."

"Why?"

"Didn't wanna bother Shoko with my..." You sigh heavily, "My problems."

"Did something happen?" The man questions, "Why would you go out drinking alone?"

"I dunno Sugu, I just need to drink away my problems, y'know?"

"You could've done that with..." He trails off for a second before finishing, "With me."

You yawn, "Yeah, I could've..." Your words come out lower and the man over the phone can tell you're growing drowsy.

"Are you fallin' asleep on me over there?" He asks, chuckling slightly but clearly nervously.

You move to lay your head down on the bar, just barely holding your hold up against your ear, "Mhm."

The sound of him sighing is heard, "Need you to stay awake for me, sweetheart."

"Sugu..." You mumble tiredly, "Why do you keep calling me that?"

There's a sudden silence over the phone.

A throb pains your head and you wince at the abrupt feeling. "S-Suguru?" You call out, your voice revealing your pained state.

"Y-Yeah?" He responds.

"You didn't answer my question..."

"I know." He states, "Are you okay over there? You sound hurt? What's wrong? Talk to me please." The male rambles, clearly panicked by the sound of your voice.

The most he knows is that you're at some bar alone and drunk so to hear you in pain has his heart worried in more ways than one.

You struggle to respond to him as you steadily slip from consciousness.

"Fuck, c'mon, don't fall asleep on me." He urges, his voice anxious.

"M-Mhm..." You mumble.

"Sweetheart, listen to the sound of my voice okay? I can't have you pass out before I get there."

You groan a little, "...Okay."

He smiles at your reply, "Keep yourself awake by talking to me, tell me about your day."

"M-My day?" You frown, "It was shitty..."

"S'that why you went out for a drink? You had a bad day?" The way his voice has gone all soft makes your heart throb for some reason.

Your eyes get teary all of a sudden, "Y-Yeah."

"Tell me what happened." He requests, "You can do that, right?"

"Uhuh..." You agree.

"Good girl," The male praises, his words giving you encouragement. "C'mon, tell me what happened."

"Well..." You steadily begin to explain the events of your day.

From how normal it was to how Choso's single text ruined your mood and then to the terrible sex you just had, you explain everything over the phone with a slur to your words every now and then. Your explanation comes out slowly since you're fighting sleep but you get through it.

"Then I..." You exhale softly, "Then I called you."

"I see." He hums, "Well, I'm right around the corner so keep your eyes open til' I get there."

"No promises." You say with a chuckle.

"Not funny, sweets. I need you awake." He replies sternly.

You groan, "Whyyy do you keep calling me thaaaat?" You whine.

Again, there's no response to your question.

"I'm gonna hang up on you, Suguru." The chances of you doing so are unlikely but you are seconds away from falling asleep.

"You better not." He says.

"Then tell me why..." Your voice fades out as your eyes shut comfortably. Mentally, you got your question out but realistically, your sentence trailed off.

Distorted sounds of your name being called are heard in your ear but second after second, the sounds fade away and blissful white noise engulfs you.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Your sleeping frame is spotted by the man you called as soon as he enters the bar minutes later, his heart rate all over the place. Quick and long strides are made to approach your resting body and hands fly to your face, lifting your head from the cold and dirty bar to get a good look at you.

Even through your sleep, you're pretty sure you hear a familiar voice whisper to you, "What am I gonna do with you?"

Those same hands move from your face and to under your legs and behind your back. Your limp body is lifted from your seat bridal-style and your head relaxes against a lean chest.

The slap of brisk fresh air causes you to stir awake for only a moment. Your eyes flutter open and the smell of cologne is in your nose, the scent almost... nostalgic? It quickly makes you think of Gojo for some strange reason.

"Suguru?" You croak out.

The male holding you is quick to look down at you, his eyes filled with worry. "Sweetheart, you gave me quite a scare," He says softly, his voice making your brows furrow. "Are you okay?"

You groan and rub your temples, feeling the remnants of a pounding headache. "Not... really," You admit, your voice still slurred from the alcohol. "And why do you..."

You end up trailing off as you shift your gaze upwards to the face of the person holding you right now. The question gets stuck in your throat while you eye the man's face.

Soft blue eyes are peering lowly at your drunken expression, a firm pair of slender hands carrying you as if you weigh nothing, ruffled white hair bright enough to blind someone and a face that's all too angelic for the hate you hold for it.

After a gulp, you bat your eyelashes and squint, wondering if you're seeing things. "Gojo?" You whisper softly.

A beautifully broken smile is given to you along with the sound of a shaky yet relieved sigh, "Yeah?"

You pout, "Why are you here...?"

"Well, love," His voice is gentle, "When you call..." He leans just a little bit closer to you, "...I come running."

GOJO SATORU ✔︎

GETO SUGURU ✔︎

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎

NANAMI KENTO ☐

??? SUKUNA ☐

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

#the f*ck list #the fuck list #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo x reader #choso x reader #toji x reader #nanami x reader #sukuna x reader #naoya x reader #geto x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #nanami kento x reader #choso kamo x reader #kamiverse #kamiversee #smut fic #jjk smut #gojo smut #geto smut #choso smut #toji smut

[genshinwomenontop]

"Even after Centuries later"

☆Prompt: Cloud Retainer and your love story. You're an Adeptus as well.

☆Warnings: Fluff, just fluff.

For as long as you can remember, you've been by Xianyun's side, even when Ganyu was a baby. While she wasn't an expressive person, she did always made sure to show her love to you in ways that only you understood. You're love story with Xianyun was a tale to tell among the people of Liyue. The story of the two Adeptus that loved each other since Liyue was created.

You were the only Adeptus that dwelled among the humans, not only that, you wanted to keep an eye out for Shenhe and Ganyu. When the girls were babies, both of them being babies at separate time, you were the one who always pampered and loved them, and the only Adeptus to understand humans. Though Shenhe was not used to that kind of treatment, she had a different level of respect and love for you.

Since the war, the Adeptus decided to live in the nature, not wanting to dwell the humans but you choose to stay, and live alongside Rex Lapis. Xinayun didn't like that, she couldn't bare the thought of being separated from her beloved partner but she never told you, nor did she express it in anyway, but loving her so long made you understand her even when she wasn't doing anything.

Xianyun was also quite the jealous and overprotective type so when she heard that you've been having lots and lots of attention lately, she had to go down there.

When rumors went around that a beautiful lady came into Liyue, during the Lantern Rite, you had no clue who it was, but Rex Lapis, or Zhongli did, he did not tell you,he waited for that every scene to unfold. You and Ganyu were walking around Liyue, with Shenhe trailing along. The city was peaceful and harmonious, something that the Adeptus fought so hard to achieve and because of you, it was kept that way. They don't call you the 'sustainer of peace' for nothing.

You and Shenhe was accompanying Ganyu to pick up a perfume from Yinger and she had a very strong attraction towards you. "Ah Ms. Y/n, you are looking lovely as the morning sun~" she approached you and held your face.

You smiled and gently removed her hand,"Thank you Ms. Yinger, I'm actually accompanying my dau-I mean friend to pick up something that Lady Ningguang had ordered?"

"Ah yes the perfume. I'm sure that something is going on since she's been ordering so many perfumes lately, but let me get that for you lovelies~"

When she ran off to bag the perfume, Shenhe chuckled, "Well that's five for the morning."

"Master Y/n has been getting alot of attention lately. I wonder what cloud retainer would think if she saw this," Ganyu giggled along with Shenhe, both of them imagining what Xianyun would do.

"Girls,you do have a wild imagination don't you?"

Yinger came back and handed you the perfume. "Well, here you go. It was lovely giving it to you. I do hope you can return the favour," she winked as you walked away.

"That woman..." you sighed.

Ganyu and Shenhe left for the Jade Chamber and you sat down with Zhongli, a sigh escaping your lips. "A rough day friend?"

"Oh dear, don't get me started. Has anything changed about me Zhongli?" He sipped his tea as he hummed.

"You have gotten alot attractive these last few days. I can see why you've been getting this much attention. Don't you like it?"

"I mean... I... I don't know. Its nice and all but every time I smile or say something nice back to someone, I can only see Cloud Retainer. It's like she's watching me from the mountains."

"How long have you seen each other?"

"For almost two years. I've been busy!"

Zhongli's eyes drifted behind you before returning back to you. "Don't you miss her?"

"I do. But I can't go now, she'll sense something is wrong and begin questioning me. You know how inquisitive she can." You sipped your cup of tea.

"One certainly is not inquisitive!" You spat out your tea and let out a scream. Zhongli laughed as you saw a very angry cloud Retainer behind you. She was in her human form.

"C-cl-baby! Hello!"

"Don't baby me. Do you like these attentions that are given to you?" Her arms were folded, and she glared at you.

"I-no! I don't..." As an Adeptus, you weren't afraid of anything. Anything except your wife.

She sighed before relaxing and taking a seat. "Re-Ehem, Zhongli. It's a pleasure to see you again. One was concerned with your well being."

"Xianyun. Its good to see you as well. Y/n here has been missing you quite alot these days."

Xianyun opened one eye and she stared at you. "I doubt she has. With all the attention she's been receiving and accepting, I don't think she misses me one bit."

"My love don't say that."

Zhongli smiled as he watched the two of you bicker back and forth. "Hmmm, just like old times."

The three of you sat down and caught up. Zhongli told Xianyun how the human world is like and to say she wasn't pleased was an understatement but having you by her side will help her to cope. Zhongli bid goodbye to you both as you took Xianyun on a walk and since it was night, Liyue looked even beautiful but nothing could beat the beauty of your wife. "One can feel your intense gaze." She said as she smiled slightly.

You held her hand as the two of you went to Mt. Laixin, using your adeptal powers to get there. "You're beautiful. Keep staying in this form will ya?"

"Ha! So you are implying that my animal form is not beautiful?"

"N-no that's not what I meant! I meant to say that you're beautiful and that this form suits you well. I can even get to kiss you and hold you properly." Xianyun blushed and adjusted her glasses.

"Hmmph! If you insist, I shall remain in this form. I want to settle down in Liyue Harbor for a couple of years. I would like to engage in the human world and their daily activities."

The two of you took a seat on the grass, admiring the big moon. "Well the human life isn't hard once you get to adapt to it. I'll even help you." She nodded as she kept admiring the moon.

"Do you remember our wedding night? That night certainly hasn't left my mind," she chuckled. That night, the two of you showed each other how much you really loved each other. You even used your adeptal powers to give you a male genital to please Xianyun.

"I do. It's one of those nights I'll never forget."

"Since one will be staying here... can we do it again? And this time, let's try for a child." You stared at her with wide eyes.

"H-huh?"

"I know you are not incapable of hearing. I request a child from you."

"Really? I-I... that's-that's great news! I'd be more than happy to have you bear my child!"

You lifted her up and twirled her around as she let out a small squeal. "This is amazing! We can finally have a child! I can't wait! Let's start tonight!"

Before she could protest, you were already on your way home, using your powers you got wings and you held her bridal style as you flew home. Xianyun gently grabbed your face as she admired your features. "I love you y/n," she pressed a kiss to your cheek with a small smile.

"Well I love you even more. Even after centuries, my love for you never faded and it never will."

#xianyun #genshin impact xianyun #cloud retainer #genshin impact cloud retainer #cloud retainer x reader #xianyun x reader #genshin impact x reader

[nyx-lyris]

my encanto analysis/headcanon that no one asked for

so, i was just looking through some encanto fanart and headcanons and came across this piece (artist: https://mobile.twitter.com/ye_enc): 

abuela had triplets - julieta, pepa, and bruno. both julieta and pepa had three kids - isabella, luisa, and mirabel for julieta, and dolores, camilo, and antonio for pepa. 

what i noticed is that for each batch of three, each individual falls under a certain category, and it seems to follow by age. 

julieta was, as this lovely fanart shows, likely depended on quite frequently for her ability to heal via her cooking. her gift would have been the most useful and therefore she likely would have been praised the most as “the perfect one”. 

this, of course, next falls to isabella, who we see this with the most frequently. abuela very clearly is living the life she wished she could have lived through isabella, and is viewed as the perfect golden child by everyone around her. 

dolores is a little different, but i believe she still fits the trope. she is basically the physical embodiment of “seen but not heard.” she keeps quiet on the things she knows would upset her family and doesn’t make herself heard, even when she is in pain, whether physical or emotional. she doesn’t tell anyone that she knows bruno has been living in the walls for the ten years he’s been missing; she doesn’t tell anyone about her feelings for mariano, because she knows that will upset abuela and her cousin’s “perfect for the encanto” arrangement; and one can only imagine how loud certain things are to her, that are endurable for us (fireworks, for example). 

next are the middle children: pepa, luisa, and camilo. all of them have some kind of pressure on their shoulders. (and - just a fun thing i noticed - while luisa’s literal pressure is the many things she carries, pepa’s pressure is atmospheric pressure, because she controls the weather. but anyway, lol). 

all three of these characters are told in one way or another to bottle up their emotions and keep them buried inside. with pepa, we see this very directly as she is constantly told by the other characters (especially abuela) to, as the fanart above shows, calm down and essentially turn off her emotions because of the damage she can cause with her weather powers. this kind of reminds me of the “conceal, don’t feel” thing that elsa had with her gloves. both pepa and elsa demonstrate the same growth throughout their movies, too - learning to accept themselves and their abilities and thus being able to control them instead of being controlled by them - but, i digress. 

luisa, by contrast, is indirectly told to keep her emotions at bay. she is treated as something of a useful tool, both by the town and by abuela, and seen in a very masculine light despite her relatively feminine personality. because of this treatment and the expectation that she will always be strong that comes with it, she falls into the same category as pepa. 

camilo, like dolores, is a little different, but still fits. we don’t see much of him in the movie, but i imagine he is depended on as being the funny one. if anyone reading this is into k-pop or bts, think of camilo as like the j-hope or the jin of the group. he’s always expected to be funny and smiling, lifting everyone else’s spirits - but who lifts his spirits? 

and lastly, we have the youngest siblings - bruno, mirabel, and antonio. they fit into the roll, of course, of the scapegoat, of family disappointments. 

bruno was rejected by the town and by his family, seen as a harbinger of chaos and horror, a bad omen - all because he can see the future, something that he obviously cannot control. but, of course, it’s easier to simply blame someone else than accept the truth or take responsibility for your own actions. 

mirabel, of course, is treated in much the same way. she is seen as a bad omen, as well, and is quite literally feared to be the one who will destroy the family and the encanto, because of bruno’s vision. 

antonio does not quite fit into this category, but i think if he had not gotten a gift, he would have been shunned in much the same way as bruno or mirabel. it can also be argued that his gift isn’t really very useful, and we can see abuela struggle for a moment to think of how they could put his gift to use at the breakfast at the beginning of the movie (”i told them to warm up your seat”). 

anyway - this is all to say that each of the siblings in each of the batches of three appears to fill (or almost fill) the same rolls. i’m sure someone else has already noticed this and i’m just late to the party - but i thought it was cool. 

#encanto #alma madrigal #abuela madrigal #julieta madrigal #bruno madrigal #pepa madrigal #mirabel madrigal #luisa madrigal #isabella madrigal #camilo madrigal #dolores madrigal #augustin madrigal #felix madrigal #antonio madrigal #pedro madrigal #bruno encanto #luisa encanto #camilo encanto #isabella encanto #mirabel encanto #julieta encanto #pepa encanto #encanto headcanons #felix encanto #augustin encanto #abuela encanto #pedro encanto #dolores encanto #antonio encanto #encanto fanart

[cerise-on-top]

hi! how would Valeria and Kate react if their wife’s got hurt because of their work, both of them working highly jobs and it ended up catching up to their s/o. hoe you are doing well and drink plenty of water! thank you!

-🍒

Hello! Both of them would be absolutely distraught, but would go about it in different ways!

Valeria’s and Laswell’s Wife Gets Hurt Because of their Job

Valeria: Whoever hurt you will wind up tortured and eventually, once she thinks they’ve had enough of their miserable life, will wind up dead. Naturally, the first thing she does is check up on you, see if you’re alright and well, that’s her priority. You’re the love of her life, there’s no one else in this world she wants to see do well. You’ll be admitted to the best hospital nearby and will only get the finest treatment. Once you’re stabilized, that’s when the hunt begins. Whoever hurt you won’t get too far since that bastard’s life will be on the line. Regardless of where they might be hiding, Valeria will find them and show them that death is actually a kind of mercy. She has pretty much everything at her disposal, everything money can buy, this sucker won’t know what hit them. If it’s revenge they want, then revenge they’ll get. Valeria promises you that their head will be on a silver plate. She’s not very good with words when it comes to comforting someone, but she will have that person killed in the most cruel ways she can imagine. In fact, she’ll take the pleasure of torturing them upon herself. Once she’s done, she’ll take some days off, which is surprising since she usually can’t afford that at all. You’ll be under her direct care for those days. Anything you want you’ll get. Afterwards there will be a slight shift in her demeanor, Valeria becomes more protective over you. Sometimes she might even assign some trusted people of hers to watch over you since she can’t afford something like that happening again. While she can’t always take some days off, she’ll try to be closer to you anyway. Always texting you, finding excuses to come home for a day maybe. She just really needs to make sure you’re okay, she wouldn’t know what to do with herself if you died.

Laswell: Laswell will try to be a bit more diplomatic about it at first, trying to coax whoever hurt you out of hiding. This person will be held accountable for their crimes against her world. Naturally, she rescues you first, gets you to the nearest hospital and won’t leave your side until you’re stable again. If it takes you a while to wake up again, she’ll leave to find the fucker and make sure they swim with the fishes. She has a pretty large, efficient network and will find out who it was fairly easily. Once she knows who they are, she won’t hesitate to find out all their past crimes as well, if they hurt you then they must have done some other awful things as well. Once that phase is over, she’ll go to their home herself and have them arrested, put in the worst prison imaginable where the inmates are treated especially badly. She won’t kill them, but she wouldn’t be surprised if they wind up dead anyway. Laswell usually isn’t an evil person, but she does hope that person dies during their time. Their sentence will be as long as possible so there’s no chance of them ever seeing the sunlight again either. Once all of this is over, she, too, would take some days off to spend with you. You’re a priority above all else, so Laswell will want to be there for you, no matter the cost. While she usually isn’t, depending on how severely you got hurt she might become a bit overbearing, a bit overprotective. That overprotectiveness will last for a few months, afterwards she’ll try to give you some space again. However, she’ll always be keeping a closer eye on you, always texting or calling you every once in a while to make sure you’re okay. If she needs to, she’ll put you under her protection officially, but the situation needs to be dire for that to happen. Either way, she’ll be keeping you safe.

#cod #cod x reader #valeria garza #valeria garza x reader #kate laswell #kate laswell x reader #fem!reader #I hit over 100k words in my document last night which is so so much #I've written so much for Call of Duty in such a short time it's unbelievable. granted there's one fic I never posted but still #I don't intend to stop now either though it's fun. I'll probably be into cod for a while still anyway so there's that too #besides Valeria and Laswell have me in a chokehold. Farah does too I love them #every time someone requests them I'm very happy. I didn't expect the girls to be this popular though in all honesty #not complaining! it's nice to get to imagine kissing girls. it makes my gay little heart sing #I actually had some art of Valeria and an OC of mine commissioned not too long ago #every time I look at it I giggle and kick my legs a bit #I want her to fluster the everloving hell out of me until I can't speak anymore and am complete mush for her #I know I've mentioned it before but I love women who could absolutely just kill me. and who absolutely would do it as well #cod has some good women. made me realise that older women are also pretty epic #I think I'd melt into a puddle if Laswell ever called me her girl or her wife

[jamil-s-wifey]

Howdy~! Loved your writing! Can I request a fluff/angst scenario in which Jamil Viper suddenly had a nightmare of hurting his fem! s/o during his Overblot and when he wakes up, he quickly rushes over to Ramshackle to check on her, make sure she’s okay? Please and thank you!

Hi, hello hun! Thank you very much, I'm glad my writing brings a smile to people's faces! I love writing comfort fics, so this is right up my alley! Every comfort twst fic has been consumed by yours truly! I hope you enjoy!

WARNING: Dead bodies and mildly gruesome imagery. I kind of went overboard with the nightmare portion-

Drip drip drip

The only sound which could reach his ears was the incessant dripping of ink, covering the ground beneath his feet.

Slithering snakes obscured his peripheral vision, red hot rage filled his veins. The school was in shambles, in every corner there were bodies littering the ground - weakened and malnourished students, who lost their lives under his fanatic dictatorship.

He was the master, but the master of what? Of ruins, of a rotting building, of a dying student body, controlled against their will, of darkened cold nothingness hidden behind lavish feasts and glittering gold. And then there was you - his jewel in the rough, his biggest treasure, kneeling before him, eyes filled with hatred, fear... and exhaustion. You dared not look him in the eyes, but your downward gaze spoke volumes - the love of his life who refused to succumb to her master's wishes.

"Pitiful. You keep disobeying your master. Haven't I taught you manners?"

You refused to answer him, gaze never leaving the ground.

"My treasure, have I not given you everything?" His voice lowered threateningly. "Or perhaps you'd choose to follow in your classmate's footsteps. Perhaps it was foolish of me to believe you'd be anything different than those mindless slaves."

You didn't answer.

"Or perhaps they've contaminated your brain. That must be it, why else would you refuse so adamantly the life of a goddess. Oh, my love, we must cure you."

He grabbed you by the hair, pulling you up. On instinct, you closed your eyes, refusing to catch his gaze.

"Smart little girl." He whispered in your ear. His snakes left painful bitemarks on your skin - covering older ones who'd begun to fade.

That's how it had been for a while - you'd lost track of time. He'd call upon you, lavish you in expensive jewellery, feeding you feasts made by the bloodied hands of your classmates, whisper sweet nothing in your ears. Then he'd get angry at your lack of response and throw you away, leaving you alone in your chambers.

Only this time, it was different.

"Perhaps I should turn to a more radical form of treatment?" His strong hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing.

Your breath became ragged, strained.

"You chose this. I am merely delivering."

You grasped his hand, trying to wiggle away, but it was useless. You felt the ink on his hand seep into your skin and clothes, contaminating your very being.

Your gaze slowly faltered, eyes closing, before he threw you on the ground.

_____________________________________________

As the heavy thud reached his ears he opened his eyes, frantically looking around. He was in his room, it was the middle of the night. He was sweaty, breath ragged. He'd fallen off his bed and that's what woke him up. He searched around for any indication that indeed it was all just a nightmare. With trembling hands he pushed himself up to sit on his bed. His hair was a mess, his heart was beating so loud he felt it might burst through his chest. He felt sick to the stomach, a twisted feeling of guilt, despair and disgust eating at his very core.

His gaze turned to the framed picture on his bedside table. It was you two, on your visit to the Scalding Sands, your arms are wrapped around him and a cheerful smile graced your features.

Was that smile...even real? Or were you being controlled?

Without thinking, he grabbed his shoes and sprinted out of his room, dead set on seeing you, rules be damned.

_____________________________________________

You were woken up by a hurried, frantic knocking on Ramshackle's front door. You slowly got up, cautiously making your way to the entrance. Even though you knew it couldn't be anybody threatening, besides you had the ghosts and Grim as back up, a little caution never hurt anybody.

What you didn't expect to see is your frazzled boyfriend, engulfing you in a bone-crushing hug the moment you opened the door.

"Whoah, Jamil. Are....are you okay?" You gently hugged him back, fingers gliding through his hair, untangling any knots he might have.

He didn't respond, instead pulling back to look you in the eyes. You looked at him dead in the eyes, no fear or disgust in your gaze whatsoever. All he saw was worry and perhaps curiosity. His eyes were glassy with untold emotions, gaze heavy with guilt.

"M-may I come in?" He inwardly cursed himself for stuttering.

"Of course, you can. Come in, come in." You grabbed his hand, leading him to your couch. "What happened? Here. I'll get you some water, did you sprint here?"

Before you could get up, he pulled you to him, hands gently cradling your face.

"Jamil, my love." You breathed out, reaching out to cup his face, "Did you perhaps have a nightmare?"

His guilt-ridden gaze moved to the floor. Somehow, only from you, he couldn't hide a single thing.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He wasn't sure what to answer. Now that he was with you and his head had cleared up, he realised how bizarre the situation was. Of course it was a nightmare.

But that didn't get rid of the weight on his heart.

"I... dreamed of my overblot. I saw... destruction everywhere. And I was hurting you. Constantly. And the fear in your eyes, it looked so real. I -" he sighed deeply. "You died... By my hands." He felt a lump forming in his throat.

"Oh, Jamil."

"And I know it's just a dream, I know but-" he couldn't keep talking. It all overwhelmed him so much.

"Jamil."

"S/O, I-"

"Jamil!"

He snapped out, turning to you.

"Jamil, I have never, ever, for a single moment, felt afraid or disgusted around you. Your overblot happened, we can't change that, but you didn't hurt me. You didn't then. And you haven't since. And I know very well, that you'd never intentionally hurt me in any way. I trust you and I feel safe around you."

He let out a shaky breath. "How do you know you're not being controlled even right now?" It was stupid of him to ask, but his mind wasn't letting him rest.

"Jamil, both you and I know you can't keep using your unique magic indefinitely. So far, every single thing I've done, I've done on my own accord."

"And you don't fear me..?"

You looked at him dead in the eyes, with the most unwavering, serious gaze you could muster.

"How could I fear the man I love?"

He pulled you in for a gentle kiss, which he poured all of his emotions into.

"I promise you, I won't let any harm come your way, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe and content, and free." He mumbled, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"Love, you sound like you're about to propose." You teased, trying to lighten the mood.

A small smile graced his features. "Perhaps in the future.", He thought to himself.

"How about we go back to bed, you are most certainly staying the night here, mister. I'll be right next to you when you wake up."

"I'm sorry for barging in at such an ungodly hour."

"Oh, shut up~. You know you're always welcome here, and besides, I'd always prefer to have you next to me when I sleep."

He didn't really understand what he did to deserve you, but you were his beacon of light and he swore to treasure you and keep you safe for as long as you let him.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x mc #twst imagines #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x yuu #twisted wonderland jamil #jamil viper #twst jamil #jamil viper x reader #jamil x reader #jamil viper x mc #jamil viper x yuu #jamil viper x y/n #jamil angst #jamil fluff #jamil comfort #twst fluff #twst angst #twst comfort #disney twst #twst fanfic #twst headcanons #twst

[aurumacadicus]

The problem was, Steve thought, that he still had those old values. People called him old-fashioned or a man of his time and it was true. He liked holding doors open for his dates, and helping them into cars, and walking on the outside of the sidewalk, and paying for their whole meal. He liked the idea of providing for them. And yeah, some people liked receiving this treatment at first, but the shine would wear off, and then they'd get testy.

"It gets a little old," Sharon had finally told him, eyes soft and sympathetic. "Being treated like I'm being protected all the time. I'm perfectly capable of protecting myself, Steve."

Steve hadn't known how to explain that he knew that. He wasn't doing it because he thought she couldn't; he'd been doing it because it was what came naturally to him. (He thought, later, it was because that was what his ma had been looking for after his dad died. Someone she could lay down her load in front of and he would take care of her. He wanted to be the kind of man his ma would have been proud of. But it was different, now, and he was struggling to learn that.)

So when he finally got the courage to ask Tony out, he figured it was just another thing Tony would make fun of him for, at least good-natured. Tony liked teasing the people he cared about, after all, and Steve gave him a lot of ammunition.

"Oh, what a gentleman," Tony said as Steve opened the door of the car he was borrowing for him, and there was the teasing Steve had expected, but there was also something a little sincere. Steve thought Tony might have even blushed a little as he offered him his hand to get inside, too.

It made Steve wonder when the shine would wear off for Tony. When his irritation would show because Steve never let him pay for dinner, or movies, or even for their coffee from the cart at the park. When he'd snap that he wasn't an invalid and could get into cars just fine on his own. When he would remind Steve very sternly that just because he didn't have the suit didn't mean he was helpless, and he could walk on the outside of the sidewalk sometimes. That he'd humored him enough, and Steve needed to get with the times, especially if he wanted to keep up with a man always looking toward the future.

"Steve," Natasha said in surprise when he'd finally admitted it on hour seventeen of being stuck in a cell together, waiting for rescue. "I don't think Tony is ever going to get tired of the way you treat him."

"Yeah?" Steve asked, too tired to keep the hope out of his voice.

Natasha blinked at him, slow and judgmental. "Steve, I don't know if you've noticed, but Tony gets annoyingly giddy when you guys come back from a date. He's used to being taken for everything he has so other people can get a leg up. You never let him do anything that he would have been expected to do for other dates." She narrowed her eyes. "He still blushes when you get him flowers, Steve. Tony can't fake a blush."

"Oh," Steve said, feeling like an idiot, but it didn't stop the grin from spreading across his face. Natasha made him feel like an idiot regularly, so it was mostly par for the course anyway.

#ideas #stony

[flamingo-writes]

What would you think if Hobie asks reader to cut the ends of his hair that bother him because of the mask and while she was doing it, she sang a nice song to him, meanwhile some little flowers began to bloom around them.

Really like the last post and this came to my mind immediately.

Listen, I’ve been daydreaming of this the entire day. I think this idea was very cute!

Also, little disclaimer: I was born and raised in Mexico, so, I’m very unfamiliar with how black people’s hair works. I know culturally it has a lot of importance, but other than that I knew very little of the different types of hair and ofc the insane variety of treatments and proper care as well as the different ways to give maintenance to different kinds of dreads. Also, as someone who has had very short hair for 2/3 of my life, as well as shaving my own head for the better part of the last 4 (5?) years, in general hair care and routines are something I’m wildly unfamiliar with, the longest I had my hair in the latest years was a 6 inch or so Mohawk I grew two years ago. Hobie has been a very good opportunity for me to educate myself a lot in hair (especially black people’s hair) and I spent a good portion of my evening watching videos/TikTok’s and reading on dreadlocks and their maintenance. If I wrote something inaccurate or wrong, please let me know, help me see my mistake, and I will fix it as soon as I can.

This came from this other request, I’m thinking of turning into a series.

Flower Bed — Hobie x Reader

Also, you said little flowers, but my brain decided to go for a full flower bed 😭 I hope you like this!

Warnings: none.

“Oí, luv…” Hobie said walking out of the bedroom, looking around you.

“Bathroom!” You shouted as he followed your voice, noticing the bathroom door opened and you kneeling by the shower.

Plants cramped in the shower as you watered them.

“Oh, never mind, you’re busy” He said.

“I’m almost done. I just need to water the ones in the kitchen sink and the monsteras…” You said as you’d todo up and stretched your back. “I’ll be done in ten minutes, what’s up?”

“I wanted to ask you if you could help me trim my hair, it’s starting to get long and gets stuck in the mask and, you know…” He asked softly. “But I can’t see the back of my head,”

“Sure, I’ll help you,” You said giving Hobie a kind smile.

He smiled back, walking up to you and kissing your forehead.

“Need help with the plants?”

“As you wish,” You replied happily. “You were asleep earlier and didn’t want to wake you, so I started watering them on my own…”

“I’m awake now,” He said. “I’ll water the monsteras,”

“Thank you, babe,” You purred.

By the time you were done with the plants, you went ahead and started helping Hobie out. You sat on the edge of your bed, as he sat on the floor. Since Hobie was tall, this was the most comfortable arrangement. It wasn’t also the first time you trimmed his wicks. He asked you to help him every few months.

As you put some soft music in the background, you got started, trimming dread by dread. Taking care to cut the hair while keeping the end of the dread rounded. Cutting just across each wick was already hard as they were thick, but you also wanted to keep them looking nice and rounded. Which was also a reason why Hobie asked you for help. You did a much better job at it than him.

Even when he didn’t admit it, or didn’t look like it, every single detail in his appearance was planned. Especially his hair. He liked taking care of it, and over all treated his hair like this very intimate thing, he hated having other people touching his hair. Except you. He actually loved it when you touched his hair, ran your hands through it, your fingers disappearing between the dreads. And the particular care and dedication which which you seemed to tend to every wick.

Deep in your concentration, watching over the little details, you were unconsciously singing. Something you also did quite a lot. When you were deeply focused on something, you’d start humming and eventually singing. Which only added to the relaxing time Hobie was having.

Between your gentle hands running through his hair, and now the soft sound of your voice singing in a low voice, going along with the music. Hobie lived for these little peaceful moments, making him feel absolutely contempt with his life. These little moments were everything to him.

As he had his eyes closed, focusing on every brought of your touch against him, he didn’t notice at first the plants growing around you.

It wasn’t plain on obvious. In fact, Hobie didn’t notice until he felt something tickling his elbows. He opened his eyes and saw flowers growing out of the floor, tiny plants growing buds and flowering. All in a matter of several seconds. And you continue to sing, concentrated. He blinked several times, wondering if you were aware of what you were doing, as he kept staring at the flowers growing and multiplying, coming out of the wooden floor tiles.

“Uh, luv?” Hobie asked in a low deep voice.

“Hm?” You hummed, answering Hobie’s question, sounding way too focused in your job as you were rounding one of the last wicks.

“Are you aware of the fact that you pretty much brought spring into our bedroom?”

“Huh?” You asked confused, breaking your hyper focus and looked around, noticing the flowers covering almost the entirety of your floor. White, red, lilac, and pink flowers, extending across your small bedroom. “Fuck,”

Hobie laughed softly.

“You didn’t notice?”

“N-no…” You whispered softly.

“That’s amazing…” Hobie sighed. “It’s beautiful, by the way…”

“The thing is I don’t know how to…un-grow them…And they’re a lot…” You said softly, the concern building in your voice, making Hobie chuckle. “What are we going to do with all of them?”

“We can always collect them and sell them or whatever, you know?” Hobie chuckled.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right…”

“In the meantime, we can always enjoy this beautiful scene, what do you say?”

“You’re way too calm for someone who has his bedroom full of flowers…”

“You made them. They’re beautiful. I don’t see the issue, basically a work of art,” He said looking at you over his shoulder, as you rolled your eyes playfully at him.

“Hobie, pollen give you allergies,”

“Sleeping on a flower bed one night isn’t going to kill me,” He pointed out. “Besides, ever since the spider thing, I get less allergies from flowers,” He said lifting a finger up, making you chuckle.

“Fine! You win this argument!” You chuckled.

“You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah, I love you too”

“That’s why I don’t mind the flowers. Because you made them,”

You leaned forward and pressed a kiss on Hobie’s cheek before you continued tending to the last two wicks.

“Thank you,” You said.

“For what?”

“Being you,” You sighed. “I’m not precisely fascinated with all the flowers in the bedroom, but the fact that you are, makes me feel better”

“Why, you’re welcome, sweet’eart. Thank you for helping me with my hair,” He said looking at you and giving you a cheeky smirk.

“Anytime,”

#hobie x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie fanfic #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown headcanons #hobie x you #hobie x y/n

[irisbleufic]

YOUR 3 CATS ARE SO CUTE OMG! How old are they/what are their stories?

Like many young-ish queer married couples, @one-eyed-bossman and I entered the fast track to pet parenthood in 2020. I was still recovering from extensive cancer treatment at the time, which is part of what makes our first kitty especially meaningful to me.

ZEL

Zel is my darling girl. She’s now 5 years old, and when we adopted her in June of 2020, she was already 1 year old. After being rescued on the streets at a few weeks old with her two personable siblings, she spent an entire year at this lady’s house with like 20 other cats at any given time. She was feral and unapproachable, but somehow I was able to get close enough to her at the rescue to pick her up and put her in the carrier. She nailed me with her claws in the process, but that’s the only time she’s ever hurt me or anyone else. The day after we got her home, I stuck my hand behind the bed in her safe room, and she set her little paw square in my palm and left it there for about a minute. I spent a couple of months crawling halfway under the bed to pet her while she was curled in her bed, and eventually I could get her to follow me around the house by asking, “Do you want to go for a walk?” She barely left my side after that. I spent a lot of 2020 sick in bed; she always curled up snugly between my ankles or my knees. She’s now the smartest cat I’ve ever met. Her language recognition shocks me even after 4 years of having her as a silly little shadow who likes to play fetch with her pink-eared mouse toy. She’s stuck to my side any time I’m on the sofa, and about a month ago she climbed fully in my lap for the first time. Her meow is barely a whisper when she does use it (only to talk to me and occasionally to the TV), but the trills, squeaks, and yowls she makes to talk to her toys are hilarious. She doesn’t even talk to her siblings like that. Unlike many white cats, she is not deaf.

NICKY

We got Nicky a year after we got Zel; he was about 8 weeks old when we brought him home in June of 2021. We met a kind lady who periodically bred her lovely Bengal queens, and Nicky was somehow a “non-show-quality” (?!!) discount kitten. He’s sweet, goofy, vocal, afraid of everything/everyone that’s outside the house, and occasionally very naughty. We hoped he would bring Zel the rest of the way out of her shell, and it worked. He just adored her from day one. She took a few months to warm up to him, but they bonded pretty fast. Now, at 3 years old, he’s a big boy—17 pounds. He likes to stand/sit on laps more than he likes to lie down in them, although he will lie down in mine a couple times a week. He brings me granola bars from the cupboard and loves trash more than he likes his toys:

EMBER

We hadn’t planned on a third cat, but the universe insisted. I mean that quite literally. On 31 July 2022, my mother died at my sister’s place a couple of states away. The morning she died, me and my four siblings took a walk around my sister’s neighborhood. We split up and went slightly different ways; my sister and her husband called me as I was getting back to the house to say that a tiny, tiny crying kitten had run out of the bushes toward them. My sister didn’t know what to do; one of my nieces is very allergic, and we were all burnt-out from dealing with Mom’s passing and the funeral home taking away her body. I told her to bring the kitten back to the house, because I was too grief-stricken to let another thing die that day. Out on the porch, I fed her milk from one of the droppers we were using to give my mom morphine, all the while making desperate phone calls to local rescues. After about 3 hours, a local vet with specialty in caring for bottle baby kittens came to pick her up. She told me that, because I didn’t live too far away in the grand scheme of things, she could foster the baby until she was old enough for me to arrange transport to my home state. There was no way I could walk away from that little baby, so I got regular photos, videos, and updates from her foster mom until I could arrange transport about 5 months later (she came home in December of 2022). She has grown up to be the feistiest tortie I’ve ever met. She has far longer hair than I ever could have guessed, and even now that she’s 1.5 years old, she has very short legs (longer end of munchkin, our vet says!) and an overall smaller stature than her siblings. She fucking adores Nicky, and he has never once played too rough for her given the size disparity. He lets her chase him, jump on him, bap him into play fights, etc. She will cry and cry at night if we don’t pick her up and carry her around before we close the bedroom doors (they get to sleep in the bedroom sometimes, but not always; Nicky likes to knock picture frames off the wall in there, and I’m not about exposing them to broken glass).

#nicky and zel #zel and nicky #ember #cats of tumblr #rescue cats