#i cannot explain the effect she has on me like | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ohtobeleah · 3 months

Text

Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Eleven: [The Man]

Summary: When Jake and Jensen go head to head over who means what yo you, things escalate to new heights, so much so that Jake lashes out and says something that may not be forgiven.

Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil. Mentions of religion. JEALOUS JAKE!

Word Count: 5.6K

Author Note: This chapter brings the total word count of this series to 50k....I cannot believe that an idea that began as a one-shot has turned into this. Thank you all so much for your support on this one. xxx

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

There was a brief moment right before your shower where Jake was able to step out into the hall to call his sister Jasmine. He knew the call he was about to make was going to be neither short, nor pleasant. But he also knew that deep down, you weren’t mentally prepared to tell your children you were sick. But the pair of you had to start somewhere. And that somewhere was Jake’s sister.

“What the FUCK is going on!” One single ring. One dial. That's how long it took Jake's sister to answer, hell, Jake thought it would have been sooner but he gave her a little good grace for potentially having to step out of whatever family dynamic she found herself in. “Mum said Y/n’s sick?”

“Did she say it like that?” Jake replied unamused as he found an empty chair to sit on in the waiting room area down the hall. He didn't want to stray too far away from your room. Although he knew that you were with the nurses, he couldn't find it inside himself to leave. If Jake tried hard enough, he could still see your bed socks at the end of your hospital bed.

“Uh–” Jasmine's apprehensive silence confirmed all Jake needed to know. “She may have said it with a little hope in her chest, mentioned the words dropped and dead in the same sentence of wishful thinking.” Jake couldn’t say he was surprised after the way Janeen had spoken so poorly about you directly to his face. He couldn't really imagine what she’d been saying to other members of the Seresin family. “But what's going on? I'm keeping an eye on the kids as much as I can but holy shit mum's just on a warpath–”

Fuck: Jake knew leaving the kids behind was a bad idea on his behalf. The guilt of running off on his children in the middle of the night was beginning to eat him alive. The idea of lying to them about your condition only made that guilt harder to rationalise.

“Okay, can you just promise me you won’t tell the kids?” Jake groaned into the phone. “Y/n doesn't want them to worry so she doesn't want to say too much.”

“Jake–” Jasmine's voice changed, the serious nature of the conversation at hand was beginning to shine through with ease. “She's alright, isn't she?” Jasmine asked as Jake let his elbows rest on top of his thighs. This whole situation, the newly found world of which you were living in was begging to give Jake the head spins. Keeping up was exhausting, but this wasn't about Jake now was it. “This is Y/n we’re talking about, she has to be alright.”

Unbeknownst to you, Jake had been reading all your files, all your reports, everything and anything he could get his hands on about your diagnosis. After all, he had been named your emergency contact not long after showing up. He’d made a convincing case. Jake knew a lot about your current situation. He knew the odds, chances, risks and possibilities.

“She's been diagnosed with Stage three A, triple positive grade three invasive doctoral carcinoma.” Jake explained to his sister who on the other end of the call, sat watching his youngest try to eat the sand from the sandpit Jake himself used to shit in as a child. “The oral chemo they had her started on caused a stroke, apparently it's a common side effect, to me they shouldn't be pumping people full of that crap if its gonna cause a fucking stroke forty percent of the time.”

Jake knew the silence on the other end of the line was due to an overload of information getting caught in his sister's cerebellum. It was a lot to take in, hell Jake still hadn’t really been given an opportunity to take it all in. since he found out he’d been go go go. He knew an impending moment of weakness mixed with overall exhaustion was coming. When that moment would come he wasn't sure.

“You’re lying–” Was all Jasmine said. Jake wished more than anything he could say he was.

“Fucked up thing to lie about Jas–” Jake responded softly as he listened to the hustle and bustle of the hospital wing his sat in. “She hadn’t been feeling well for a few months, Doctors say it's aggressive, feeds off her hormones and stuff.” Jake didn't understand a lot of it, but he was trying his best to navigate a field he wasn't an excerpt in. “She's in for a preventative double mastectomy on Christmas Eve. It would've been earlier but the strokes kinda set her back a few days.”

“Jake– I don't believe you, the kids–what about the kids, what do I tell them?” Jasmine couldn't comprehend the devastation this would cause on the already struggling family dynamic. You and Jake were meant to be, everyone knew that. But this whole separation, the miscommunication and overall fractures within your marriage were all major contributing factors as to why love just couldn’t be enough.

“Don't tell them anything, please, for the love of God Jas don't tell them anything, I just–” Jake let out a sigh of frustration as he ran his hand free hand through his hair. God he needed a haircut. “We just need a little time to process what's going on and Y/n–she's been doing this for too long on her own, I can’t keep letting her down so just, take a moment to breathe for me.”

“Holy fuck you aren’t kidding about any of this are you?” Jasmine with all her good graces and problematic marital issues of her own, looked over at where her husband sat with hers and Jake's father. The sight was enough to send a shiver down her spine. The man who raised her was not someone who Jasmine ever wanted her brother to become. Losing your wife to such a disease that was as unforgiving as it was inhumane could potentially be an origin story bubbling under the surface of Jake's skin.

“Jake–You don't get to turn into dad if this ends anything less than Y/n walking away from this cancer free Jake, your kids deserve to have a dad that won't treat them like burdens and mistakes.”

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

“Watch your step alright?” Our skulls are designed to cushion our brains. Our rib cages are specifically moulded to guard our hearts. The human body is built to protect our most vulnerable parts. At least, that’s how it’s supposed to work.

The way in which Jake helped to guide you out of the bathroom with his hand pressed firmly against the small of your back made your heart skip a beat. You held tightly onto his forearm with one hand and in the other? Was your IV poll, still pumping you full of antibiotics and fluids.

“I got it.” You tried to focus on just putting one foot in front of the other. That's what this whole thing was about right? This battle, this fight. It was all about putting one foot in front of the other. With Jake by your side, albeit with some underlying resentment still to be discussed, you felt as though those steps, small but meaningful in their own right, were made with intent and purpose to keep fighting. “Shit the air-con feels so weird on my head.” You chuckled to yourself as Jake shut the bathroom door behind the both of you.

“Yeah holy shit it's like–” As Jake's eyeline faltered from you to the figure standing over near the door, his heart sunk into his stomach. His face turned to stone as the green in his eyes, usually an emerald colour, darkened to something more pine-like. The half finished sentence that left your husband's mouth and tailed off into complete and utter silence was what got your attention the most. It wasn't like Jake to not say what was on his mind.

“What's up?” As you turned your head slowly, you saw the man who had been nothing but a pillar of support for you to lean on since your diagnosis. It was the man who had kept you above water when you felt like you’d been drowning in a sea of unprecedented mortality. “Jensen–” The shock and excitement in your tone was something Jake couldn't miss no matter how much he wanted to. “You came?”

Jake made no attempt to move as you shuffled forward, he stood still with his heart hammering inside his chest. He stood completely still as his thoughts carried him away into a world where nothing made sense to anyone. Into a world where he didn't have you, a world where for the last year he’d tasted of that very misery and hated every last second of it.

“I uh–” Jensen held out the bouquet of sweet peas, peonies and pansies he’d brought for you. The overwhelming colours and signature scents captivated the entire room with their freshness. “I wanted to stop by, see how you were doing, hope I'm not intruding?”

The body tends to adapt quickly to new circumstances and pressures it’s put under. It knows how to protect itself. But it can’t close off completely, or well—we’re not really living are we? Biology tends to override our fears, so we leave the door open, just a little…hoping like hell that it's worth the risk.

“Oh no, no we just finished up some DIY haircuts.” You beamed, the smile that ignited across your face was a smile Jake hadn't seen in years. A smile so pure and full of love that it couldn't ever be faked. “Jake, this is Jensen.” You introduced the two men who had played significant roles in your life, having no clue that they had both already met one another in the hall. “We met at the doctors office, as unfortunate as that sounds, it's been really nice to have someone who just, knows.” Jake slowly but surely aided you over to your bed before he made his way over to where Jensen stood watching idly. Assessing the situation unfolding before him. “Jensen convinced me to go to a few of those CCA meetings, although not my cup of tea–it's nice to know that that support system is there.”

Jake eyed Jensen and his bouquet of flowers off as he stepped closer and closer with a look Jensen couldn't quite read in his pine green eyes. The betrayal of love often has boundaries that people end up living with for the rest of their lives. For Jake, his betrayal and the consequences of his emotional ineptitude inside his marriage was starting to play out right before his very eyes.

He saw the potential that there was in fact another man. And oh boy did he hate it.

“And Jensen, this is Jake, my husband.” Jensen took subtle notice of the way you introduced Jake to him as your husband, not your ex-husband like you'd been referring to him as since the two of you first met. Something had changed, Jensen could sense it. But for as much as Jensen could sense the chemistry between you and Jake, Jake could see the way your eyes lit up with overjoyous surprise when you realised that the flowers Jensen held in his hand were in fact for you. “Are those, are those for me?”

“Oh–yeah.” Jensen beamed as he walked a little further into your room. “I thought they might bring a little light into your room but it seems that you have it pretty well decorated.” It was the small nod to the Christmas lights that hung around your room that made you smile even brighter as Jake made his way back over and helped you into bed. You could tell there was tension brewing just from his quietness alone. “And the new haircut suits you, good thing you don't have a weird ass head huh?”

“Hey Jarred–” Jake interrupted before you had a chance to reply, the way he intentionally called Jensen by a different name rubbed you the wrong way. The frown that cast itself across your face left little to Jake's imagination, but as he made sure you were as comfortable as could be in your bed, he kept going. “Nows, probably not a good time–”

Jensen looked around your room carefully, he knew the system well and what times were more common than not for nurses to do their daily rounds and check-ins. He knew that by the looks of things you had just showered and were probably settling in for the afternoon. If Jensen was correct in his assumption as he looked back towards where Jake stood at your bedside, he would assume that he couldn't have picked a better time to drop by.

“Seems like a pretty good time to me man, besides, why don't we let Y/n here make that call.” Jensen replied calmly as he went about finding a place for your flowers to go. Jensen could have played the safe card, he could have chosen to be the bigger person and not mention it, but he didn't really have a hell of alot to lose. After all, he was a dead man walking. What was the harm in stirring the pot a little where he still could. “Honestly, I didn't expect you to be here if I'm being completely honest.” Jensen smirked as he turned back to face Jake. You felt like your heart was about to explode right through your chest as you looked back and forth between the two men who had seemingly gotten into a mines bigger than yours contest on either side of your bedside. “Didn't think you knew your wife was sick–”

The silence was deafening as Jake thought about all the ways he could kill a man in one single motion. The rage he felt inside his chest was red hot jealousy. Jensen could practically see the steam spewing out of Jake's years.

“What my wife decides to share with me has nothing to do with you–” Jake growled, you could just see the way he was grinding his teeth. Jake's jawline had never seemed more profound. His knuckles were almost entirely white as he leaned against the railing of your hospital bed. Lowered down for convenience of getting in and out.

“It does when I’ve been the one listening to how much she wishes you loved her the same way she loves you.” Jensen shrugged. “Come on man, don't play this game, don't pretend that I don't know what been going on–”

“Enough!” You couldn't have shouted it slider if you tried. “Both of you, my god we’re all supposed to be adults here?” You sighed as you looked at Jake and then over to Jensen. Something was off with him, this wasn't the Jensen you knew. He seemed off, very off. “Can you two just back up, let's start over.” However, it was a plea that fell on deaf ears.

Remember that impending moment of weakness mixed with overall exhaustion Jake mentioned earlier? Yeah– about that. Guess it was coming around the corner sooner rather than later.

“Nah–” Jake shook his head as he let out a sigh. This was bullshit, you really had him fooled. He really did think that there was a possibility here that maybe, just maybe, the two of you could fix what he had unintentionally broken while focusing on your health. “Nah, I'm not gonna put up with this dickhead.” Jake hissed as unclenched his hands from the railing on your bed. “I'm gonna go get a coffee, try not to catch each other's cancer cells while I'm gone.”

“Jake, don't leave!” You begged as you sat up a little straighter in your bed. “Please—“ The panic that followed was something otherworldly as you watched Jake round out of the hospital room that had become your home away from home. “Please!”

Jensen was if anything, enraged. He hadn’t helped the situation but he never would have left your side after making a remark so thickly lacquered with jealousy. He didn't think Jake would react the way he did, so quick to make assumptions. The small gift Jensen still held in his hand was quickly placed on your bedside table.

“I’ll go talk to him—“ Jensen pressed his lips together as he let his hand fall gently to your shoulder. “My fault, I shouldn't have said what I did, I'm sorry.” Jensen didn't pretend to not see how upset you truly were. He understood what it was like to feel the weight of the world crushing your spirit. “He didn't mean what he said Y/n.”

“He did–” You sighed as you wiped away your tears. “He asked me when he came to take the kids to his mum's house if I was seeing anyone–”

Ah, Jensen thought to himself as he stood by your bedside and listened.

“He wants to get back together, fix what's broken, change.” You sighed as you looked over to the open door that Jake hadn't long before walked out of. “He probably thinks you're more than a friend.” In another life, perhaps Jensen could have been more than just a good friend. In another universe somewhere he hoped that maybe you never had this unforgiving disease. But this wasn't another reality, this was right now.

“All the more reason to fight for his girl.” Jensen cooed as he leaned in to kiss the top of your now very smooth head. “I'll go talk to your husband.”

You caught onto the not so subtle subtlety of the way Jensen teased that title. Husband. Jake Seresin was still very much your husband. He was the very definition of a man who was supposed to be at your side through thick and thin. But right now? You were doubting his ability to fully comprehend what was happening to you. Jake’s focus shouldn’t have been on Jensen and who he was to you. But yet you couldn’t not defend him.

“He’s not a bad guy, he’s really not—“ There was an awkward silence that lingered in the room as Jensen chose to take in what you’d said. “This is all just so much for him to take in.”

“You don’t need to explain your relationship to me.” Jensen wanted to say that if Jake was such an alright guy, then you wouldn’t have left. He wanted to remind you of all the conversations the two of you had had over the past few months. All the times you’d cried about the man who didn’t value your time, your energy, your love. “But a woman like you should never have to beg a man to stay.”

“I left him.” You felt the need to remind the man who stood at your bedside with an ora surrounding him you didn’t recognise. “I stopped begging him to love me a long time ago and you know that.”

Jensen could have thrown the fact you just called out after Jake back in your face, that you’d begged your husband not to leave. But he wasn’t that mean. He was just looking out for you. Someone had to. Someone had to make sure this Jake guy had his priorities in check and that you were at the very top of that list where you belonged.

“I know—“ Jensen pressed his lips together into a fine line. “But that guy just walked out the second things got a little more complicated, what’s gonna stop him from throwing in the towel if your health declines more than it already has?” Jensen shrugged his shoulders like he wasn’t being nasty. It was his version of tough love.

“I’m sorry—“ You scoffed as your face contorted into that of a frown mixed with frustration. “Are you, are you testing Jake?”

“Cancer is one of the world's most leading causes of divorce.” Jensen added like it was a statistic you should have known. He knew you knew it. “I just wanted to see how well he handled a little external pressure.”

“You’re—“ Before you could finish your sentence, Jensen was smiling down at you from ear to ear.

“A menace, I know, but I’m a menace that only has your best interest at heart.” Jensen explained as he sat down beside you for only a brief moment. “Your fight isn’t with Jake right now, he shouldn’t be fighting you or anyone else in your life that may come and go.”

“Jensen—“ You knew Jensen hadn’t been well, but he hadn’t explicitly told you how bad it was. There was something in his eyes though, the way he looked at you like he was looking at you for the last time that had you worried. “What’s going on with you?”

“I’m just making sure if you’re letting that man back into your life that he’s gonna stick around when things don’t go the way he wants them to.” Jensen smiled softly as he picked up your hand to bring towards his lips. He left a fleeting kiss upon the palm of your hand and let out a sigh he wasn’t aware he was holding in. “I’ll go track down your sook of a husband, make sure he’s aware that you’re hopelessly devoted or whatever you wanna call it.”

“Please be nice—“ You pleaded gently as Jensen stood from your bedside. “Please.”

“Anything for you Y/n.” Jensen replied, he knew that this would be the last time he ever saw you apart from in his own version of heaven. “Anything for you.”

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

Jake Seresin had never been a fan of hospitals. That mentality first started when he broke his leg in kindergarten and needed a full cast, but it grew with him well into adulthood. Jake had never liked hospitals, even when all three of his children were born he still hated them. Not even the love he had for his children could override the hate he felt towards the sterile environment that gave far too many infections to people to be considered ‘normal’

“Seresin.” But Jake had never hated hospitals more than he did the second he heard his last name being called from just a short distance down the hall. Called by a man who Jake would happily like to never see again. “The hell is your problem?” Jake caught the sight of the man who’d brought you flowers coming right towards him with a fire burning in his eyes. The man you had kept somewhat a secret from Jake. Much like your diagnosis.

“My problem is asking me what my problem is.” Jake groaned as he took a sip of his shitty ass hospital coffee. “Don’t you and my wife have things to talk about?” Jake asked as he took a few steps away from where Jensen had stopped in his tracks. “Things I’m not privy to as it seems? Like her health or new love life?”

“You don’t even know who I am to your wife!” Jensen barked loud enough to have Jake stopping in the middle of the hall. The six foot something aviator turned slowly on his heels to give the almost matching in height bald dude the time of day he seemed to crave. “But I know all about you, because I’ve been there for Y/n while you’ve been busy playing part time parent across the country.” Jensen had nothing to lose, he was just a dying man who had no time left to cherish.

Jake wasn’t about to stand here and take this. He didn’t need some guy who’d stepped into your life to tell him what to do. You were the mother of Jake’s children, you’d always be that to him regardless if he could fix what he broke.

“Get out of my face before you need a plastics consult.” Jake growled through gritted teeth all the while Jensen grinned. He was standing his ground as Jake continued on his defensive. “Because so help me god, you may feel like god right now with your self-righteous heart and knight in shining armour attitude, but you sure as hell won’t feel all high and mighty when you meet him.”

Jensen didn't want to fight with your husband, but he did want to make it known that time was forever fleeting, and if Jake kept going the way he was there would be no time left to fix what he broke. You needed someone to be there for you, Jake had to be that person.

Because Jensen couldn’t be that guy for you anymore, he had no fight left to give you. He had no fight left in himself.

“You know I sympathise with you Jake, I do, it must be hard being the guy who broke your own marriage to a woman who loves so fiercely and so much.” Jensen started as he let his elbows rest atop his sweatpants clad knees. “And now having to deal with the fact that said wife is dying must be a lot to work through.”

Jake remained speechless as his eyes lingered down to the man who was almost out of breath from his walk through the halls. He held his half drunk coffee cup in his hand with enough rage coursing through his veins that Jake was actually surprised he hadn’t crushed the flimsy cardboard vessel.

“But you know what the worst part of all that is? Is that your priority isn’t your wife, or fixing your marriage—“ Jensen continued on. “No, it’s on the guy who your wife chose to confide in when you were nowhere to be found.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jake replied with a hiss in his tone that mimicked the deadliest of snakes. “I couldn’t give a shit who you are to her or what you want, because she’s my fucking wife—mine!”

“And yet here you are arguing that point with me in the hall when you could be at her bedside appreciating all the small moments you’ll be lucky to look back on one day.” Jensen grew more heated as Jake took a few strides his way, towering over where Jensen sat. “You threw a fit the second I stepped into that room without using any critical thinking skills you aviators claim to have in the heat of the moment.”

“She told me she wasn’t seeing anyone! Come to find out that that’s—“ Jake didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before Jensen intervened that train of thought.

“She’s not! You’re wife fucking love’s you!! She kept her prognosis from you because she was so scared you didn’t love her back enough to fucking care! And you’re hung up on the idea she’s seeing someone? Me!?” Jensen scoffed as he stood, the few strides he took towards Jake were made with intent behind every single one. Enough to have Jake stumbling back every so slightly. “Here’s a concept for you man.” Jensen pressed his index finger into Jake’s sternum. “Maybe, just maybe, if I was sleeping with your wife, she’d remember her worth.”

“You really don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jake sighed, there was no way he was entertaining this delusion any more than he already had. “I think you should leave.” The idea of you being with another man sent Jake into a blind rage of jealousy that saw no reason. But at the end of the day, he was the one who walked out on you. He’d strayed too far from your hospital room and couldn’t see your bed socks anymore.

Fuck….

“Maybe, maybe I should—“ Jensen agreed. “And hell I don’t even know you at all, but from what I’ve managed to piece together? it’s that you're a crap husband who doesn’t have the emotional capacity to handle the fact his wife could lose this battle.” Jensen retaliated with a stone cold expression. “But something I do know is that no amount of prayer or candles or begging will reverse time, so put your ego side and focus on the fact your wife needs you now more than ever before and if you leave her side the way you did today ever again, trust me when I say you’ll regret it every day of your life.”

“Y/n isn’t dying—“ Much like Jensen was taking his fear of the unknown out on Jake, Jake was just about ready to let loose on the guy who was picking apart his very character. Sure, Jake recognised he wasn’t the best husband, but he also knew you weren’t dying. Not right now, not while he wasn’t by your side.

“I wasn’t either, but as it turns out we all have an expiry date.” Jensen replied. The atmosphere and energy surrounding the two men who were going head to head suddenly shifted. “Some sooner than others, but we all have one, and when yours is up yours is up and there ain't nothing you can do you extend it.”

“You’re—“ Jake couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“A walking corpse.” Jensen finished the sentence he knew Jake was trying to speak into existence. Although he didn’t care to beat around the bush. “So trust me when I tell you that wishful thinking does shit when your body decides it’s had enough.”

“Does Y/n know?” Jake's first worry was how this news, how this detrimental turn of events, would affect you. His heart forgot how to beat inside his chest when he watched Jensen shake his head in response.

“She needs to focus on her own journey, and before I go I need to make sure she has a support system because for a while there I was all she seemed to have.” Jensen explained. There it was, the truth of the matter.

Jake saw it clear as day, the care, the worry, the intention to make sure you had someone there for you because Jensen wasn’t going to be there anymore. You may not have slept with the guy standing before Jake but if Jake knew anything, it was the look of a man who was unequivocally in love with you. He saw his own reflection of Jensen's eyes.

“Go back, apologies, and you fix your marriage man because that woman? That electrifying woman who sees the good in everything doesn’t deserve to go through this alone—and you turning your back on her the second someone made things a little difficult for you isn’t a good representation of the husband she deserves.”

“You love her, don’t you?” Jake asked as he took a second to truly take in Jensens whole argument. The world seemed to go on around them, with doctors and nurses carrying out their daily duties and rounds. Family members walking to and from rooms visiting loved ones. But for Jake and Jensen? The world stopped when it came to you. “You’re in love with my wife, say it.” Jake couldn’t hide the pain in his voice. “Tell me you love her, then this all makes sense.”

“Maybe—“ Jensen tried to play his love for you down into something that was just a social construct. “Maybe I love her, but I don’t get a chance to explore that, you do though.” Jensen was truly trying to hide the pain in his eyes, but Jake could see it all too easily. Jensen knew that. “So if not for yourself, for her, pull your head out of your ass man—“

“I never stopped loving her though.” Jake sighed out in frustration as he sat down on one of the plastic hospital chairs that lined the hallway. Jensen followed soon after, both men decided that the heat of the argument was settling into something more valuable. “I just—I lost sight of what I had.”

“That’s just not a good enough excuse.” Jensen replied as he let his head fall back against the wall. “Listen, I don’t plan on coming back after I leave today.”

Jake didn’t respond, he simply waited for Jensen to explain. But the explanation never came and Jake never pressed. If anything he was kind of relieved in a selfish way.

“If you truly want to fix what’s broken, if you really want to fight for her and be by her side when she needs you the most, you’ll get up and you’ll go back in there and you’ll be the guy who gets to hold her like no one else does.” Jensen pauses momentarily before he continued on. “Because there’s better guys out there Jake, and she shouldn’t have to settle for one who doesn’t appreciate what’s right under his damn nose.”

“Is this your way of telling me you’re a better man than me?” Jake asked cautiously, a part of him didn’t want the answer to be yes. But Jake needed to know what the man sitting beside him truly thought. You saw something good inside him, inside both of them.

“I’m not a better man than you Jake—“ Jensen sighed as he stood from his chair. It was getting late, he had said his peace, he had put the fear for a dying man inside Jake Seresin. There wasn’t much more Jensen could contribute to your life besides what he had already given.

“I’m just a man who’s run out of time and has nothing left to lose.”

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

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional @jessicab1991 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @fanficfandomlove @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog

@goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes @eternallyvenus @emma8895eb @kmc1989

#was it over? // jake seresin #tw: cancer #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman imagine #jake seresin imagine

249 notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 7 months

Note

hellooooooo, could you please make (when you have the time) something where James Potter has a girlfriend that its sooo touch starved but also has a hard time being touched/hugged (for some reason kissing doesn't bother her but she gets really shy with that) an she is unable to receive compliments, she tries to express her love in other ways tho

i'm that type of person so i would love to see something like that:(

Ugh same baby! Thanks for requesting :)

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

You and James are on opposite sides of the couch, and you feel like you’re going to combust.

The issue is his foot. You’re covered by a blanket, but James’ foot is brushing your calf through the fabric, moving back and forth so slowly you wonder if he even realizes he’s doing it. And it’s not not nice, but even that tiny bit of contact (again, through a blanket) is almost too much for you. Every nerve in your body is at attention—you don’t think James could breathe in your direction without you noticing it—and you want him to cover your entire body with his even if it’ll probably kill you.

“You doing alright over there, lovely?” James asks, eyes still on the TV. He must be paying more attention than you realize.

And one of the difficult parts of your relationship with James is that there are some parts of you he simply cannot understand, but that won’t stop him from trying. Like, James is a naturally tactile person. He wants to hug and kiss and love on you all day long, as he made abundantly clear from your very first date. But you’re not. You want to be, you want to let him give you all the affection he has to offer and return it with twice the zeal, but no one touched you like this before him. Your family weren’t the physically affectionate type, and your friends didn’t bother with it around you, so James’ particular brand of overly touchy loving was…new. You crave it and yet when he gives it to you it feels foreign and borderline uncomfortable. You’d done your best to explain it to him, and James had taken it all in stride, though you could tell there was some mixture of pity and bafflement at your odd love/hate relationship with physical closeness. Now, he does his best to give you that particular form of affection in small doses. He checks with you before putting his hands on you, hugs you just until your blush gives you away, and restricts his casual contact with you to chaste areas. Like his foot and your calf.

“Mhm,” you reply, unsure how to explain the effect he’s having on you and unwilling to say anything that’ll make him stop.

Narrowed brown eyes move from the TV screen to your face. “Promise?”

“I’m okay.”

“Something’s bothering you, though.”

You hesitate. You don’t want to lie to him, it’s just that it’s more complicated than that. “Not really.”

“And you’re not really avoiding the question, right?” James grins at you, though it’s tinged with worry. “C’mon, angel, be straight with me. Something’s on your mind, yeah?”

You’re silent, but an involuntary glance downwards gives you away. James’ foot is drawn back towards him in an instant. “Ah, that was too much, huh? My bad.”

“No, James, I—” you sigh heavily. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, lovely girl,” he says it easily, but not without gravity. “I’m the one who didn’t check if it was okay.”

“But you shouldn’t have to check.” You’re shaking your head, drawing your legs into your chest, shrinking from him even in your frustration that you shrink from him. “I don’t want you to feel bad about touching me, James. It’s not like it scares me or anything, I don’t know why I’m so weird about it.”

“Hey.” His voice is lightly chiding, remonstrance gentled. He’s not touching you, but he’s doing his next best thing, turning his body to face you so you’ll know you have his full attention. “I know, you’ve told me how you feel about it. I don’t take it personally, sweetheart, I just want you to be comfortable. You don’t have to be scared to not be having a good time.”

You let the quiet noise of the TV fill the silence for a moment, looking at him. He’s smiling just a tiny bit, even now. He told you once that he can’t help being some degree of happy when he’s with you, no matter what’s happening around him. His eyes are big and brown and open behind his glasses, eyes that haven’t learned to dull themselves for the sake of self-preservation, but there’s a slight pinch around the corners. He’s evaluating you, trying to figure out where your mind is going and how to meet it there.

“I think my problem,” you say, trying the weight of each word before voicing it, “is that I want you to be able to show…affection, whatever way is natural to you.” A crease appears on James’ forehead and you can see the rebuttal forming on his tongue, but he lets you say your piece. “And it makes me feel bad that I’m stopping you from doing that, and that I can’t show it back to you either.”

The crease deepens. James has an easier time choosing his words than you did. “I don’t mind not being able to touch you. I mean, would I have my hands all over you day and night if you wanted it?” He flashes a flirty smile. “Obviously. But I care about you, not that, and you aren’t as used to that stuff. The idea of touching you is as unappealing to me as I imagine it is to you, because you’d be uncomfortable the whole time. What kind of boyfriend would I be then, huh?” He sticks out a foot to nudge your knee gently. “Anyway, I don’t need you to be all over me to know you care. You think I thought the muffins I ate this morning made themselves?” He raises his eyebrows at you, nodding for you to answer.

Your face warms. “No.”

James nods encouragingly. “As I suspected. And that was some of the best love I’ve ever tasted! Plus, those little notes you write when you’re going to be home late or you know I have a busy day? Angel,” he says, voice dropping into soft earnestness, “those make my entire week.”

You bite your lip, but you’re powerless to stop the spread of your smile. “I’m glad you like them,” you reply bashfully.

“Like them?” James throws up his arms, indignant. “Sweetheart, I can feel the love coming off those things like you’ve drowned them in amortentia. Don’t get me wrong, I love hugging you, but that?” He shakes his head. “There’s nothing better.”

You imagine your complexion is approaching fire-hydrant red about now, but you’re so happy to hardly care. “Thanks, Jamie.”

“Thank you, angel,” he says, and you can tell he’s smothering his grin intentionally to make you take him seriously. “I mean it, I wouldn’t want you any other way. You’re my best girl, understand?”

You can’t look at him for embarrassment, but you nod. After a moment, James’ silence draws your eyes back to him, to find him grinning. The sight is familiar, as is the warm, fuzzy sensation that spreads through your insides. His eyes narrow slightly, assessing you.

“Do you feel like a hug, lovely girl?”

You nod again as you go to him, abandoning your blanket. James’ arms open, his legs parting automatically to slot you between them. One hand finds your mid-back while the other cradles the nape of your neck, and you press both of yours to his shoulder blades, drawing him downwards and into you. He makes the most of it, fingers curling in the fabric of your shirt. You can feel his heartbeat a few inches to the right of yours.

A tiny shiver of pleasure goes through you, and you tighten your grip on him so he won’t let go, but James understands, and pulls you closer.

413 notes · View notes

shuttershocky · 5 months

Note

There's a thread on the arknights reddit asking why is Eyja so resistant to powercreep. About half the answers were because the devs virtually give no other casters the amount of res ignore she has and she was just made right from the start and casters past her are either meh or Goldenglow.

It's a fun problem to talk about and these answers are correct, but I would argue that fully understanding the issue of Eyjafjalla's effect on Arknights' design and why she's so hard to powercreep comes down to understanding the combination of four things:

Arts damage is calculated by reducing the initial damage by a percentage given by the target's RES

Arknights is a Tower Defense game

Eyjafjalla was first and with a very overloaded S2

Closely related to #3, Arknights is a live service (gacha) game

I'm not sure if I can explain this very cohesively, but I'll try. This is going to be a very long post going over all 4 points in detail, after the cut

I'll go over info you definitely already know to explain Point#1, but please be patient.

Arts damage in Arknights is calculated like how Magic Resistance works in many games—it's reduced by a percentage of the target's RES, vs Physical damage being a flat reduction by DEF or ATK - DEF. Let's explain Physical first.

The flat reduction from DEF means that while Phys damage does almost nothing if it's below an enemy's DEF, slowly slowly increasing the phys damage being outputted will get over the enemy's DEF until it starts being effective. The higher you boost the phys damage over the initial DEF, the more effective the attack becomes. 2000 DEF may be extremely tanky, but if you deal 10,000 damage per hit in one second, you're still dealing 8000 DPS. On the other hand, if you deal 1000 damage per hit 10 times in a single second, you're doing basically nothing (a minimum of 5% damage per hit) to a 2000 DEF target despite having the same DPS.

Meanwhile, Arts damage being reduced by a percentage dictated by enemy RES means that the actual damage per hit doesn't matter. If you make a 10,000 damage Arts attack hit an 80 RES target once per second, you do 2000 DPS. Do the same thing where an attack does 1000 damage Arts hits 10x in 1 second to the same 80 RES target, and you do 200 x 10 or 2000 DPS. This means Arts damage ultimately only cares about DPS, no cares about whether it gains it from boosting ATK or ASPD, it will be the same in the end.

Moving on to Point #2, other games that calculate magic resistance in this way aren't Tower Defenses, but Arknights is. Being a tower defense means that the objective in any stage is to beat all AI enemies in a stage before they finish their set path to your goal, and no matter what strategy you go with the only approach to victory involves killing all enemies in some manner. This foundation means that DPS is inherently king (as in many games, but with Tower Defense's especially), as your only form of gameplay involves destroying the AI enemies with set patterns, everything else only serves that purpose. The hypothetical ultimate Arknights unit is not the one with the best utility or versatility or strategic potential, it's the unit that can kill the most number of enemies onscreen more efficiently than everyone else. So when it comes to units that deal Arts damage, Arts units that can kill the most enemies the most efficiently are the most valuable.

In other games in completely different genres but with the same approach to magic resistance (a very big logical leap I know but hear me out I swear), DPS numbers cannot be the end all-be all. For example, Dota 2's magic resistance works the same way, and they even have heroes with similar approaches to the game, but being a human player vs human player game and actually being unable to win by killing all enemies alone creates nuance.

Lina and Skywrath for (an extremely simplified and obviously overlooking many, many more nuances) example, are both squishy magic damage nukers whose goals are to surprise one enemy and then destroy them as fast as possible with very high magic damage. However, they are usually incomparable, because they're not just fighting set AI enemies walking on pre-determined paths, but human players who will react in different ways to the smallest differences between the two characters (ex: Skywrath has no way to completely stop enemy movement so he'll have a partner nearby to watch out for, Lina has a stun so she's more likely to be alone, but there's no dodging her homing Laguna Blade like you can with Skywrath's ground-targeted Mystic Flare so kill her before she fights back). Also, you can only win in Dota by destroying the enemy's base, so a team with 100 kills can actually lose to a team with 30 kills if the team being beaten up constantly dodges fights but manages to destroy the enemy base still. The ability to kill your enemies must actually be in service of your ability to destroy buildings (which are normally magic immune), meaning a caster that can annihilate enemy players is the blink of an eye but is useless at breaking buildings or defending may become a liability if they don't help their team at pushing faster than the enemy or can't help defend their buildings. To put it short: in other games, the non-linearity of both the objectives and combat encounters means increasing raw magic DPS cannot always be a solution

So now we go into Point#3 and 4, Eyjafjalla was the first 6 star Caster, and Arknights is a live service game meaning it must change over time.

Eyjafjalla having an automatic and powerful skill with RES shred, multiple charges, and even AOE on her S2 spelt doom for the entire Caster class, even more than her infamous S3. With S2, Eyja was cheaper than Casters with AOE, dealt more DPS than them while having their AOE, didn't require any manual input from the player, and even shredded enemy RES.

Now Eyjafjalla's S3 could be competed with, as it was a long cd multitarget DPS skill. Ceobe came with her own machine gun on S2 that could scale off enemy DEF, while Carnelian came with true AOE rather than a 6 target limit (though Eyja's S3 was still better in the end lol). However, her S2 being so easy and so powerful in a tower defense where efficient and strong DPS is the most valuable trait you can possibly have means HyperGryph either have to directly powercreep it with a similar skill, or work around it, which is where Point#4 being closely related comes in.

HG's approach was trying to work around it, which is why other Casters have clearly tried to stay out of her way either via utility or new features. Goldenglow has global range, Ebenholz sacrifices DPS for instant burst (but then eventually got a DPS module anyway), Mostima has big slows, Dusk creates summons to block enemies, etc. But even with all the utility or features being put into other Casters, if Eyjafjalla kills enemies just as quickly and easily as she did at release, then there's no real reason beyond your own fun to use anyone else. Eyja's S2 is still killing everything. That means enemies also have to change.

If Eyjafjalla killing enemies so easily with either S2 or S3 is a problem, then the only solution without being able to nerf her is make enemies harder for her to kill alone. This is why Patriot Phase 1 had 90 RES, so Eyjafjalla couldn't just kill him like she did all other bosses while Amiya's S3 had True Damage. Later enemies would also try other gimmicks, like the enemies in Lonetrail starting with very high DEF and RES that would lower after multiple hits, so strong DPS casters like Eyja can't instantly kill them with S2 (although her S3 will kill them from rapidfire lol).

However, unlike someone like Exusiai who had low ATK but monstrous DPS from multihits and ASPD, simply raising the floor of enemy RES will negatively affect ALL Casters, because of point#1— Arts only cares about DPS because of how it's calculated, damage per hit doesn't really matter. While Exusiai players can still play around with her by attempting to boost her DPH above the enemy's DEF threshold (and run the math on whether they should just try to lower enemy DEF instead), Casters will react the same to boosting ASPD and ATK, while lowering enemy RES will become more and more efficient the higher enemy RES gets, and hey, guess who comes with a RES shred? Eyjafjalla's S2.

Eyjafjalla trapped Hypergryph's design team. Keep raising RES and other Casters quickly become more and more useless without RES ignore / RES shred of their own, becoming a second support class when Supporters already exist for the idea of "Casters but supports". In fact, as RES gets raised, Eyjafjalla and other casters like Ifrit become more and more valuable as DPS units (in a tower defense where DPS is king), since they can ignore / shred RES when most cannot. Keep the game playable for other Casters however, and it means Eyjafjalla will continue to reign supreme.

HG tried to do a balancing act. This is how we got enemies start to get more RES over time, which weakened Casters overall enough that HG made a module for Core Casters to ignore 10 RES (that Eyjafjalla also got LOL). This is also how we got into the current state where Eyjafjalla is still comfortably killing 90% of the game and seen as near impossible to powercreep, because if she can't then people without her (and there WILL be people without her, because it's a gacha game and she's not guaranteed) would be totally screwed. Try to directly powercreep her by making a second Eyjafjalla with bigger numbers, and not only will you be pissing off people that rolled for Eyjafjalla, but you'll be creating an even bigger problem instead of fixing the first one.

So to tie it all together

Point # 1 means that Arts damage is a lot less nuanced than Physical damage, leading to raw DPS by any means coming out on top

Point # 2 means that if the only way to win is to destroy all enemies, then the ability to destroy enemies with damage faster and more effectively will always be the strongest solution

Point # 3 means that since Eyja was first and also very overloaded with features, everyone else was created with the knowledge of that they'll be competing against her, meaning you either had to directly powercreep her, or stay out of her way. HG chose the latter

Point # 4 means that while Arknights tried to address her, by either making tankier enemies or by event game mechanics, they were trapped by their own design. Because of Points #1, #2, nullifying Eyjafjalla too much would be screwing over everyone else because of the end result of Point #3, which is everyone tried to stay out of her lane when it came to DPSing. Not everyone can have Eyjafjalla because it's a gacha game and who you get is all RNG, and while you want new units to be attractive to make money, directly powercreeping old characters screws over your own players and makes them angry, while powercreeping Eyjafjalla directly will not even fix the problems created by points #1 and 2, it just makes an even more problematic, second Eyjafjalla.

Thanks for reading this far! If anything wasn't clear just ask and I'll try to explain it again

#Arknights

225 notes · View notes

goodomensjail · 9 months

Text

HUGE SPOILER: SCENE 1 SEQUENCE TO THE BEST OF MY 2 FREE DRINKS IN MEMORY:

We open in a dark space before creation. There is a pre-fall “Crowley” with white robes, white wings, and short curly red hair (no snake eyes). He is struggling to hold his plans straight so he shouts to the void for some help from what appears to be a falling star, which then takes shape into an equally white robed and winged Aziraphale.

Angel Crowley asks for this (apparently lesser) angel to help him create a nebula by holding his plans for him. Angel Crowley then uses a hand crank a la Bentley from season 1 to spin into existence a beautiful nebula. Angel Crowley explains eagerly and delightedly that it is a star factory; Aziraphale is delighted and compliments him and tries to introduce himself by name, obviously hoping Angel Crowley will do the same. But Angel Crowley actually is barely paying attention and misses the opportunity to introduce himself and we do not get his name (which is either a. important because when we DO get his real angel name it will be a MOMENT [Raphael?] or b. this provides the explanation for WHY in the garden of eden Anzirphale didnt know Demon Crowley's name).

Aziraphale then tells Crowley that though this nebula is beautiful, it apparently is planned to be destroyed in 6000 years, which upsets Crowley. Azirpahale also says Earth and “people” are about to be made and that the purpose of the stars and nebulas is for humans to gaze up at them in wonder. This also upsets Crowley who feels these star systems should exist for some greater purpose than humans to just look at.

Angel Crowley decides he may need to give some suggestions to God, to which Aziraphale cautions him to be very careful about giving too many suggestions to the almighty ("its not like she has a suggestion box or anything") or asking too many questions of the great plan. “How much trouble can I get in for a few suggestions anyway” says Crowley, as a shower of stars begins. Angel Crowley opens his wing to shield Aziraphale from the falling stars of his new nebula.

OPENING CREDITS

**Note EDIT: I have been told by others directly in messages who were at the screening that YES Crowley says something to the effect of "arent you gorgeous" and Aziraphale thinks he is speaking to him for a beat before realizing its about the stars I do not recall the spoiler going around that Crowley says “aren’t you gorgeous” to a star and Aziraphale mistakes it for complimenting him. Though it fits with the general shy and adoring vibe from Aziraphale in the scene and the Doctor Who-ish wonder of Crowley for his nebula. Me not noting it or remembering it now doesn’t make it not true tho I coulda missed it cuz I was happily giggling to much

***Note 2: I thought Crowley had David Tennant’s normal eye color NO SNAKE EYES for sure, but I have seen some from the screening say his eyes were purple. I didn’t note that but I don’t want to go as far as say they are wrong

***NOTE 3: apparently im still in tumblr jail and cannot respond to comments even on this added blog.... The falling stars/meteor shower is NOT the fall from grace of the angels, it appears to be a normal star shower caused by the Nebula and it mirrors the rain scene; Crowley uses his wing to shield Aziraphale from the falling stars.

#good omens #go2 spoilers #good omens spoilers #gos2 spoilers #gos2spoilers #good omens season 2 spoilers #good omens season 2

638 notes · View notes

kdogreads · 2 months

Text

Richie Jerimovich NSFW Alphabet

Co-written with the incredible @foreveraimingtowardsthesky

Thank you so much for collabing on this, my friend! It’s been a longtime coming but here we are 🤪😍

Enjoy this look into our wildest delulu fantasies with our bb Richie. This was a 50/50 project and still took us forever so please APPRECIATE IT 😂❤️

A — Aftercare

There is nothing Richie loves more than smoking a cigarette with you in his arms after he blows your mind. He’s trained to read people and you are no exception. He’ll help you clean up then he’ll cuddle you, or kiss you silly, or light you a joint, or brush your hair for you. Whatever you need this time, he’s on it.

B – Body part (favourite of yours and theirs)

Richie likes - no loves - your mouth. The way your lips close around a cigarette plucked from his hand, the wet heat of it when his fingers press against your tongue, how you open up so readily for him when you’re on your knees, the sharp indent of your teeth in your lower lip when you’re trying to be quiet.. Yeah, he could lose hours dreaming of your mouth, thinking of new ways he can make it his. Spit in it. Gag it. Have you clean him up with your tongue..

C — Cum

Richie can be nasty. He wants to cum on your face, your chest, your ass, literally anywhere he can. It’s his way to mark you as his without leaving hickies or anything, ever the practical thinker. His favorite by far, though, if you’ll let him, is to cum inside you. Chef’s kiss.

D – Dirty secret

Richie has fucked, or tried to fuck, too many short-lived staff at The Beef to mention. But that’s no secret. In fact, there’s really only one thing he hopes never gets out. Luckily for him, she feels the same way. Chalk it up to the effects of grief and alcohol, explain it away however you like, but if word got round? I don’t think her little brother would ever get over it.

E — Experience

Honestly, Richie doesn’t have a ton of experience with different partners, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t treat you R I G H T. He’s only had a couple relationships besides you and Tiff and maybe he brought home a girl from the bar once or twice before you. This man is a very, very fast learner, though. It doesn’t take him long to learn every little thing that drives you wild and he’s more than willing to experiment with what you like (always with permission first).

F – Favourite position

Richie wants to see. He wants to see his cock sinking into you. He wants to see your face when you come. He wants to see the rise and fall of your chest and he wants to see his hands on your body. Richie also wants to bend you over and fuck you from behind. He likes how it makes you whine when he pulls your hips back as he fucks into you.

So he fucks you on your knees in front of the mirror on his bedroom wall, drags his fingers through your gathered slick and rubs the mess across your tight little asshole, his thumb circling and circling and circling before pushing inside. Like this he can watch as he fills you up, and see your fucked-out face as you fall apart.

G — Goofy

Our Richie is a big goofball in every aspect of his life and sex is no exception. He loves being able to laugh with you and tease you while he’s inside you or eating you out. One day he gets it in is mind that you have to call him Mr. Jerimovich as like a demeaning/authoritative thing, but when you actually call him that, he cracks up laughing. Cannot keep a straight face for the life of him. “It sounds like you’re talkin’ to my fuckin’ granddad. Too fuckin’ weird for me, baby, m’sorry.”

If he’s had a rough day, though, and needs to take it out on you, it’s all serious. No jokes, no laughing, no teasing. He just takes when he needs from you — and of course makes sure you have a good time, too.

H – Hair

How well groomed is Richie? Richie is a low-maintenance, one-bottle-in-the-shower guy. He keeps his hair and his beard short, that’s his look. Once upon a time, he got clippers and a beard trimmer for Christmas, so he does this himself, and every so often the rest of him will get the trimmer treatment. He’s not super hairy but he likes how his dick looks bigger after. He’s only human, after all.

He’s clean, but not meticulous. He doesn’t mind things getting a bit.. dirty. And if you’re honest with yourself, you sometimes like him best at the end of a long day. A little sweaty, a little rough around the edges, his skin tasting like salt and cigarette smoke.

I — Intimacy

Richie the cuddle master, am I right? He loves physical affection and just being close to you. If you’re having a slow, sweet love session, he’ll hold your face and tell you the stickiest sweet things you’ve ever heard in your life. “You were made for me, baby. I was made f’you” and “You’re so beautiful, sometimes I can’t believe you’re mine” and “I love you so much my heart fuckin’ hurts.” Loves eye contact, loves holding your hands, loves loving you basically.

Talks you through it. Big time. He’s in his daddy era and he’s desperate for his baby to cum. 🥵

J – Jerk off

In a word. Yes. In the shower most mornings. It’s a Pavlovian response now. Routine. The hot shower spray. The steam. His hand wrapped round his cock.

But he’s seen the way your breath catches. When he’s knelt between your spread legs. When he drags it out just a little longer, his fist working over his cock as though he prefers it to your pretty pussy. How your eyes follow the movement of his hand as he makes you wait, how your tongue darts out against the softness of your lips..

Until finally - - You like watchin, huh? Your face had heated under his scrutiny, but you couldn’t deny it. And since then? Pictures. Videos. Whenever you’re apart for while and sometimes even when you’re not. His hand sliding over his hard dick, slow at first, then faster. You can hear his breathing, all the bitten off sounds he makes - - fuck. Sometimes it’s a piece of your underwear that he’s ruined, the sheets, his shirt. Sometimes come splashes hot against his tense belly. It’s insanely hot. It makes you ache for him. And he knows it.

K — Kinks

This man will shock you with just how freaky he can get. Choking, gun play, knife play, slapping, daddy/sir, tying you up/getting tied up, he’s into it all. Something you’ve always wanted to try? He’s down. It doesn’t always have to be super kinky stuff, though. Sometimes he’s in the mood to make love to you and, when he is, he’s the stickiest sweet lover you’ve ever had.

Once he discovers the the free use concept, it’s his favorite. “Don’t let me stop ya, baby. You keep workin’ on that,” while he proceeds to fuck you into a different universe. 🥵

L – Location

Anywhere. At the restaurant when everyone else has gone home (that reservations desk is his in more ways than anyone else knows). In his car, where there’s just enough room for you to straddle his lap in the driver’s seat. Up against the wall in some dark corner when he just can’t wait. On the couch, forgotten movie in the background. The kitchen counter in the middle of a lazy weekend breakfast. In the shower, the pretty noises you make bouncing off the tiles. In your bed. In his bed.

That’s probably his favourite. His bed. When you’re waiting for him at the end of a long day in his bed. Wearing his shirt. Your perfume on his pillows.

M — Motivation

YOU. Richie is such a romantic at heart and, if you’re his, he wants nothing more than to make you happy any way he can. He loves to hear you whine and moan for him or squirm under his touch. Part of him selfishly loves knowing he can make you feel better than anyone else ever has. He loves making you forget all your worries with his fingers or his mouth or his cock. He gets off just by knowing how satisfied he can make you.

N – No

It’s a short list, but anything you’re not into is at the top of it. You can also add to that anything too elaborate. Role play’s fine just nothing too fuckin weird alright.And he doesn’t need a red room of sex shit, doesn’t need whips and chains when his tie looks so pretty around your wrists, when his belt drags so nicely against your skin.

O — Oral

You mean Richie “could eat pussy for three meals a day” Jerimovich?? He LOVES oral. As much as he loves feeling your lips wrapped around him, he loves feeling you squirm under his tongue even more. He’ll have you pinned down with his arms begging him for a break at any chance he gets. Giving is his favorite, but he loves receiving, too.

He loves when you give him road head. Loves it. Only when it's late at night and you're alone on the back roads, though. He knows just what you're thinking when you reach a hand over coyly and scratch your nails along his thigh. A silly grin spreads across his face and he gives you a subtle nod to encourage you. By the end he's usually pulled over somewhere with both hands in your hair and a plan in place for when you get home...

P – Pace

He can go slow. If that’s what you need. He likes how he can feel everything when he takes his time, but it wears away at his self control and he didn’t have much to begin with. You like to ride him, achingly slowly, stretching his restraint as far as it’ll go before it snaps, before he grips your hips and fucks up into you, or until he flips you over and fucks you through the bed.

Q — Quickie

Are you kidding me? Richie loves quickies. Possibly his favorite thing in the world. Just finished dinner service? He’ll fuck you in the alleyway. Popped in to say hi while you’re running errands? He’ll bend you over Carmy’s desk. Even just going about your day at home he’ll come up behind you in the kitchen and pull you up onto the counter. Any chance he has to get you off he’ll take.

R – Risk

Is Richie a risk taker? Yeah. He gets a kick out of the possibility that the two of you might get caught. Actually no, he gets a kick out of you getting so fucking greedy and needy for him that you’ll let him touch you, let him fuck you, where anyone might see. His hand between your legs under the restaurant table, his mouth on your breasts in the cool evening air, your back against the wall and legs round his waist, your body pressed to the high rise window of the nicest hotel room he could afford. It fuels his possessiveness. You’re his and he wants everyone to know it.

S — Stamina

Richie isn’t as young as he used to be, but he uses what energy he has wisely. In his younger days he could go at it for hours, but nowadays his poor achey back can’t take more than one, maybe two rounds. He gets you off more times than you can count before he even thinks about fucking you, so don’t let his old age scare you.

Just because his body gets tired faster doesn't mean his sex drive has gone down, though, so don't you worry about that.

T – Toys

The first time Richie caught you with your favourite toy, he’d watched from the doorway with a dangerous mix of jealousy and want. You’d pulled the toy from your body when you saw him, but he’d shook his head and something in the look in his eyes made your mouth go dry and your stuttered explanation die in your throat. – - Don’t stop. He’d climbed onto the bed, sat back against the headboard and pulled you to his chest between his spread legs. - - keep going.. s’it feel good? .. feel better than me, huh? - - you’d said no, but he’d slapped your hand from the toy anyway, taking it from you and mimicking the movements he’d watched earlier, but harder, faster, more him. And he’d liked the way you’d surrendered control so easily, the way your head fell back against his shoulder, how your fingers twisted into the fabric of his sweats. And it occurred to him that he could keep this up for hours..

U — Unfair

Richie is a little shit… of course he loves teasing you. He’ll send you dirty texts all day while you’re at work and get you all hot and bothered. Then he’ll edge you for what feels like hours if he feels like it. He always leaves you satisfied after his fun, though, he is a gentleman after all.

When he first discovered what his "harmless" teasing does to you... Oh man. It's like he can't stop now. He'll pull you into the office at work just to whisper dirty things in your ear.

"You look real pretty tonight baby," He leans in to kiss your neck, hands wandering all over your body, "Fuuuck, you want daddy to take care of you, hm? Touch you? Make you scream so everybody knows who you belong to, yeah?" Swoon.

V – Volume

Richie has the dirtiest mouth in all of Chicago. He remembers the first time he’d called you his good fuckin girl. He remembers because you came hard and tight and wet before the words had barely left his mouth. Now he won’t fucking shut up. And you love it like that. But the best thing? There’s this noise he makes when he’s close to losing it. A filthy low groan as everything begins to unravel. It might be the hottest thing you’ve ever heard.

W — Wildcard

Richie definitely has a thing for public sex. The thrill of potentially getting caught, having to show off his pretty baby to whoever catches you… He can’t help it if he wants to show you off and make it clear just who belong to.

X – x-ray

What’s going on in those tighty whiteys? He’s not gotten any complaints. Well, no, that’s not quite right. He’s gotten loads of complaints. Just not about his dick. If he was the type of guy to be heading down the gym (although lets face it, he isn’t ) he wouldn’t need to be shy in the locker room, if you catch my meaning. Alright, alright.. it’s big. You happy now?

Y — Yearning

He may be in his 40s but his sex drive is stronger than ever. He always wants you. Richie is just insatiable sometimes. It’s like he can’t believe you are his to take care of and please whenever he wants to and he does.

Z – zzzz

He’s not even stayed awake long enough for you to read the end of this. Sorry. But let’s be fair, he’s a hard working guy and he’s had his fair share of sleepless nights. So you can’t begrudge the fact that he sleeps like an angel (an angel splayed across 75% of the bed, but still..) once you’ve both had your fill. Now roll him over before he starts snoring.

#richie jerimovich #richie jerimovich x reader #kdogreads #richie jerimovich smut #richie x reader #the bear fic #the bear smut #the bear fx #richie jerimovich fic #reader insert

164 notes · View notes

bumblesimagines · 1 year

Text

Imagine:

Catching Lo'ak and Neteyam

Request: Yes or No

~~~

Stalking through the brush, you watched the yerik graze on the grass. You carefully stepped through the forest, staying light on your feet just as your mother had taught you. You slowly reached back to grab an arrow, pausing when the yerik lifted its head and surveyed the area. You held your breath, remaining completely still until it lowered its head and began eating berries. Your fingers wrapped around the wood of the arrow but movement in your peripheral caught your attention.

"Be quiet!" A hushed voice hissed and you narrowed your eyes, rising from your spot and approaching the tree. Your tail lashed around in irritation and in one swift motion, you yanked the smaller Na'vi out from behind the tree. He yelped in surprise, effectively spooking off the yerik.

"Why are you following me?" You questioned, holding the younger male by his throat and pushing him up against the tree.

"We didn't mean to distract you, (Y/N). We saw you leaving and- and I was curious." Neteyam explained, glancing between you and his brother. You turned your glare onto the eldest Sully child, ears lowering and frown deepening.

The tension between your family and the Sullys had remained for years. Your mother blamed JakeSully for the death of her beloved mate, Tsu'tey. The pain of losing him to war had fueled her anger but she contained it for your sake, keeping her hate hidden behind glares and murmurs.

"You-" Looking back at Lo'ak, you sneered. "-are going to get your family killed one of these days."

"(Y/N)-" You released your hold on Lo'aks throat, watching him touch his neck and cough softly. Neteyam winced and frowned, reaching out to touch his brothers shoulder.

"You're impulsive like your father." You pressed two fingers to his temple, pushing his head back. Lo'ak grunted, shoving your hand away.

"The hell's your problem?"

"Walk it off, Lo'ak." Neteyam advised, earning a scoff from his little brother but nonetheless Lo'ak turned on his heel and stalked off, smacking away leaves with his hands and tail.

"You didn't have to act like that." Neteyam sighed, watching his brother leave before he looked back at you.

"You cannot keep taking the blame for your brothers recklessness, Net. Someone has to teach him about consequences. If we are to become mates, he'll become my brother so-"

Neteyam grinned. "If we become mates? Starting to have doubts?" He asked, stepping closer and tilting his head. You couldn't fight the smile that crept up on your face.

"Never." You replied and Neteyam leaned forward, lips brushing against the white freckles coating your skin.

"Better not." He murmured. "I worked hard to win over your mother."

"And yet, she still dislikes you." You laughed and Neteyam grunted, a heavy sigh escaping him. Your hand found his and you gently pulled on it.

"Come hunting with me."

Gifs aren't mine.

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #avatar 2009 x reader #avatar x reader #avatar 2009 #avatar #avatar way of water #avatar the way of water x male reader #avatar the way of the water x reader #atwow #atwow x reader #neteyam #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x reader #neteyam x male reader

1K notes · View notes

ay0nha · 10 months

Text

Boiling Point | Chef Luca (Prologue)

(working) SUMMARY: A well- known food critic is retiring. Apart of this condition is that you continue writing on his behalf as if he hadn’t. To show you the ropes, he implores Luca to teach you what it takes to enter the culinary world.

There he was. His pristine white jacket contrasted perfectly against the warm ambiance of the evening. The distance was covered within a few long strides and once at the table, his charmed smile made you nauseous. He played his part better than you had that night

PAIRING: Chef!Luca x f!reader (food journalist/critic)

WORD COUNT: 1.4K

WARNINGS: smoking, drinking, canon-typical things, future enemies to lovers sort of, mutual pining, inspiration from Kitchen Confidential and the movie Boiling Point, etc.

A/N: Just a little sneak peek/intro to this request. Might do a short series (three/four parts)...stay tuned. It’s a little choppy at the moment, so I hope it makes sense. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged. Comments are always appreciated! Enjoy.

Deep breaths helped.

The nicotine’s warmth sparked excitement in your veins. It made a tedious night seem just bearable with each inhale. You eyed the falling ash as if it were tea leaves promising your near future. Yet, when your eyes surveyed the crowd within the restaurant, it cemented the dull company you’d join.

Excusing yourself was easy. Slipping away wasn’t the issue; it was expected as the call for a cigarette completed your image. The cliché of it made your mouth pucker with your final drag.

“There you are...” A hand settled on your shoulder. Ryan. “They’re ordering another bottle as we speak.” Lighting her own cigarette, she cursed. “We better fucking land this deal—I’m about to max out the company card.”

Flicking your roach under the point of your heel, you scoffed, “Please, if I have to hear that man say heavenly one more time, I’ll—

“You’ll smile.” She reminded you. It was an instruction, really. “Nod your head, agree with anything—Everything.”

“He said supposebly.” You tutted. “I can’t take him seriously.”

“He’s ancient. Cut him some slack!” She laughed. Charm came second nature to Ryan; you weren’t convinced she even knew its effect on people. “He’s sweet on you.”

“Right…” You tried to make out the stars, but the light pollution fought against you. “So, what? I marry him for the life insurance?”

“Let’s just make it through dessert,” Ryan spoke definitively, always cutting through. Yet, room always remained to entertain you. “Then we can talk wedding plans.”

The man that waited for you was Avery Sinclair—world-renowned something. You had listened, but the information had already left you. Those around you, though, knew who sat across from you well. They were almost as good as you hiding their discomfort. Eyes were always on him, knowing his thoughts before he could form them. New forks were laid after the slightest touch, napkin splayed on his lap before he could lift it himself, and every meal came with the chef that made it.

He was respected.

Yet, all you saw was his brittle and thin mustache, sitting upon his lip like forgotten food. The comb-over was just as wirey and pulled kindness to his cheeks. They flushed now as he flirted with another glass of wine.

“There you are!” He bubbled. With a wave of his hand, your diligent waitress returned with the Italian bottle. “I ordered the oak-aged white. It has a buttery note that is just heavenly with the gelée.”

You smiled.

“I cannot believe our night is coming to an end.” Ryan charmed. She held her nose to the glass, listening intently as Mr. Sinclair explained each technique to her. The slurping was a bit much.

“My dear, this is just a start.” The deal was confirmed with those words alone. A part of you wished the promise had a false bottom. “We can draft up something agreeable, I’m sure?”

He looked at you. You had that feeling like you’d forgotten to walk. Each step felt forced and off. You played off your misstep cleverly, your glass raising to the center, “I look forward to working together.”

Ryan was impressed, pride swelling in her chest. She and you were an unmistakable duo. Angel and devil. Thelma and Louise. Introvert and extrovert. Fill in any this and that, and there you two were. Most importantly, she was the publicist, and you were the writer.

“Under one condition…” Mr. Sinclair smiled, far too tickled by your toast. He leaned in, elbows brushing the circular table. “Do you know why I chose this place tonight?”

You hadn’t expected the question. Your answer came out blunt. “Favoritism.”

“You’re sharp.” He smiled broadly, wagging his manicured finger at you. “Exactly that. Look around you…”

You took a genuine moment. The perception of fine dining was all theatrics. It was a large show that ran every night of the week. Even those who dined were an unassuming audience. Those swiveling doors may as well be the curtain line to backstage. The kitchen, the dressing room. The dripping alleyway, the green room.

You were all too aware of the communication chain. The insults were coded frustrations that later into the service would be water under the bridge. There was a reason for everyone being here just as you were.

“We’re all cut from the same cloth. You, me, dear Ryan.” Mr. Sinclair smiled at her. “We all express our passions differently, but we love just the same.”

He felt content. His body relaxed with his decision to hire you. Sinclair could see how you hadn’t quite trusted yourself with the responsibility that he was putting on your shoulders. But he was confident you’d grow into it perfectly.

“I hope you understand the reasons for my poetics—” The rumors and gossip about him failed to do his sincerity justice. “—as I’m trusting you with my legacy.”

“Of course.” You gave another smile; this time, it felt real.

“Excuse my sentimentality!” Mr. Sinclair clasped his hands together in a soft clap. You could almost see tears forming in the corner of his eyes. “With that out of the way, dessert? The pastry chef here is—” His favoritism came into play. “—is something special.”

You could picture the chef now, cursing at the interruption. Hopefully, complaining about the big wig seated at table seven wasn’t worth his time. You waited for the rehearsed, polite decline.

Apologies, however, our chef is tied up between aeration.

But there he was, Chef Luca. His pristine white jacket contrasted perfectly against the warm ambiance of the evening. The distance was covered within a few long strides, and once at the table, his charmed smile made you nauseous. He played his part better than you had that night.

His features were tight, unwavering as the compliments poured. Your lips twitched down as you took him in. With his hands behind his back, his chest pulled broadly, but you could still make out the littered tattoos on his forearms. Typical.

Even with his eyes on you, you hadn’t shied from your judgment. You only stopped when you heard your name.

“Isn’t that right?” Ryan prompted you again, defined features expressing her sternness. Focus. “You always talk about how much you love to bake.”

You don’t.

“Sure.” You nodded.

“A match made in heaven, then!” Mr. Sinclair exclaimed. “You must get to know Luca; he has the most interesting story!”

In your short assessment, you already disparaged his comment. To you, Luca was, like you, a walking cliché.

“I don’t doubt that…” Your sarcasm was palpable. Luca’s stoicism broke with a smirk of confusion. “Let me guess... You were a troublemaker?” Your tone was teasing but bordered something wicked. “Cooking put you straight, and you owe your life to grease and adrenaline.”

“Forgot to mention that I’m a hard-partying criminal.” Luca didn’t waste a beat. Impressive.

“And when did the anger issues start?” You hummed. You played at every stereotype you knew. “Before or after your—

“I think what she means to say—” Ryan cut in seamlessly. She came prepared for your shenanigans. “—is that she admires the journey you’ve taken to get here.”

Luckily, Mr. Sinclair was far too enamored with the preciseness of the dessert to interpret the sudden banter.

“Of course.” Luca looked at you. Then as you had only moments ago, he pulled a practiced expression to address his loyal customer. “Mr. Sinclair, as always, it’s a pleasure to see you.”

“Unfortunately, I must savor tonight.” He spoke. “My home on the Amalfi coast has been quite lonely.” Sinclair let out a regretful sigh. “I trust you to keep this between us, yes?”

Luca nodded. “Of course.”

“You will be a very lucky man, son.” Sinclair further divulged the secrets behind his retirement. “I hope you heed my advice and get to know this young lady.”

All eyes were on you.

“She will continue to write for me. Use my name.” He explained your purpose. You weren’t ready to hear it aloud. “So treat her kindly, or you will have to answer to me.”

“I’m not sure I understand.” Luca almost protested. It seemed elaborate to allow someone so young—you— to take his place.

“Be open. Present.” Sinclair answered. He wasn’t a man of riddles, but you noticed that the more he spoke, the harder to understand. “You were once new. You had to figure it out on your own. Maybe you can help her, show her your world. Our world.”

#q #chef luca #luca #chef luca angst #chef!luca x reader #chef!luca x f!reader #chef luca fluff #chef!luca #pastry chef luca #the bear fx #the bear luca #luca the bear #will poulter #will poulter x reader

422 notes · View notes

otdiaftg · 3 months

Text

The King's Men - Chapter Seven

Day: Wednesday, January 17th Time: 8:30 PM EST

"And he says it isn't a righteous streak," Andrew mused, more to himself than to Neil. "If it was righteousness I'd ask you to give up drinking and smoking, too," Neil said. "I'm only asking for this one thing. It doesn't have any effect on you anyway and it's an unnecessary risk. You don't need a third addiction." "I don't need anything," Andrew reminded him, right on cue. "If you don't need it, it'll be easy to give it up," Neil said. "Right?" Andrew thought it over a minute, then flicked his cigarette at Neil. It singed the material where it bounced off his shirt. Neil ground it out under his shoe when it hit the asphalt. The cool look he flicked Andrew was wasted; Andrew's gaze had already drifted past him in search of something more interesting. "I'm going to take your temper tantrum as a yes," Neil said. "I'll bring the money by your room tonight." "Will you?" Andrew slid his stare back to Neil's face. "Rather, can you? Aaron doesn't want you in the room anymore, Nicky says. Something about you inviting yourself to fights that aren't your concern?" He waggled his hand in a so-so kind of gesture. "This phone tag nonsense has left the message a little unclear. Perhaps you'll explain to my face why you're suddenly so interested in my brother's life." "I'm not," Neil said. "Without the lies," Andrew added. "I'm not," Neil said again. "I can't stand him, but we're out of time. I told you last October we can't make it to finals if we're a fractured mess. You two are holding us back. I had to start with one of you. Since everyone bets on Aaron and Katelyn, I thought he'd fight you for her." "Wouldn't that be an interesting change of pace," Andrew said. "See also: a waste of energy and effort. He might try, but he won't win." "You have to let him go." "Oh," Andrew said, as if this was news to him. "Do I?" "You'll lose him if you don't," Neil said. "He'll keep pushing Katelyn away if you tell him to, but he'll resent you for it. He'll count down the days until graduation and when it comes you'll never see him again. You're not stupid. I know you can see it. Let him go now if you ever want him to come back." "Who asked you?" "You didn't have to. I'm volunteering my opinion." "Don't," Andrew advised him. "Children should be seen and not heard." "Don't dismiss me for lying to you then ignore me when I tell the truth." "This is not truth," Andrew said. "Truth is irrefutable and untainted by bias. Sunrise, Abram, death: these are truths. You cannot judge a problem with your obsession goggles on and call it truth. You aren't fooling either of us." "If you ask for half the truth, you'll only get half the truth," Neil said. "It's your fault if you don't like the answers I give you, not mine. But as long as we're talking about obsession and Aaron's life, what are you going to do about his trial? She's going to be here for it, isn't she? Cass, I mean," Neil said, though he was sure Andrew knew who he was talking about. "You're going to have to face her." "Seen and not heard," Andrew reminded him. He sounded bored, but Neil knew a warning when heard one. Neil let it slide and went back inside.

Art used with permission by ouijacine. Thank you @ouijacine.

166 notes · View notes

incorrectbatfam · 1 year

Note

i just read the wayne family adventures chapter that released yesterday and i'm in need of some steph and damian headcanons

They've gotten into the most arguments over who gets to drive the Batmobile

Damian: "I'll drive"

Steph: "You're twelve"

Damian: "And yet I still drive better than you"

Bruce sides with Steph and ten minutes later Damian is gripping for dear life as she goes twenty miles over the speed limit

Steph sends a multiple-paragraph story about her mission abroad with pictures, emojis, and a hundred exclamation points, only for Damian to reply, "k"

Having food around is legitimately stressful because Damian is a growing boy who will eat everything. Steph gets up to grab a drink with her muffin and comes back to a wrapper and crumbs

He offers to pack her lunch when Alfred's hands are too full. Steph takes him up on it, thinking Alfred already made something. She doesn't check her lunchbox until later, when she finds a brick of tofu and Tupperware full of grapes

Steph reminisces about an old TV show and for the rest of the day Damian copies everything she says in an old person voice

Then Damian asks what a Walkman is and it's Steph's turn to pinch his cheeks and talk in a baby voice

Steph: "Robin's the worst"

Goon: "Yeah, he is"

Steph: "You take that back!"

He sold her high school essays online and gave her a 10% cut of the profit

Damian gets a rat and Steph names it Remy, knowing he hasn't seen Ratatouille yet

She uses his head as an armrest

Steph and her friends go out to celebrate finals being over. Damian follows them to the restaurant and keeps sending milk to their table every five minutes

Damian rickrolls her through her AirPods

Steph has a special type of anger set aside for when Damian jams the carnival port-a-potty shut while she's in it

Damian gives her a misshapen rock and says, "It's the egg that hatched you"

Steph: "This is my little brother, Damian"

Damian: "We're not siblings"

Steph: "…As I was saying, this is my little brother, Damian"

She sticks a picture of Damian on the icebox to guarantee it stays cold

*After a big meal* Damian: "I cannot eat another bite"

Steph: "Same. Wanna get ice cream?"

Damian: "I'll drive"

Steph: "Like hell you are"

Damian: "Then I call shotgun"

Steph: "Bold of you to assume we're inviting the others"

Damian has a creative writing assignment for English and Steph offers to look it over, but instead of giving him feedback, she gaslights him into thinking he plagiarized Game of Thrones

However weird the Rogues may be, Damian can guarantee there's something in Steph's camera roll that's even weirder

Jason teaches Damian to swear and Steph un-teaches him by playing the bleeping sound effect every time he does

Steph rents half her storage garage to Damian to store the canoe he found. They're still trying to figure out what to do with it

Damian: "I have to infiltrate a horse ranch and I need you to communicate with your equine brethren"

Damian asks Steph to come to Career Day. She's confused at first because at the time she's a student working a part-time retail job, but shows up anyway. When it's his turn, he brings her up to the front and says, "This is my sister, Stephanie. She doesn't have a degree yet, gets paid minimum wage for a job I can do with my hands tied, and is the only one in my family who doesn't know what she's doing." Steph starts to get annoyed, but then Damian says, "I brought her today because she doesn't let her lack of direction hold her down. She has taught me that it's okay if you don't have a destination and life happens on your own terms, not someone else's."

Steph comes to the Manor one day to find everyone crowded around Damian's door. Dick explains that the person Damian asked to the 8th grade dance ditched him last minute and no one's been able to coax him out—not even Alfred with cookies. Steph goes in and after a while, he tells her about the work he put in (for a middle schooler, aka an ironed shirt and reservations at a place rhyming with Bolive Darden) only for it be a setup to make fun of him. Steph asks when the reservation is and he says it's in twenty minutes. She says she only needs ten and emerges in her old homecoming dress. Then they grab dinner before skipping the dance altogether to go bowling and destroy some unsuspecting 9-year-olds at laser tag.

874 notes · View notes

batwritings · 4 months

Note

Hii, I hope you're doing well! Can I please ask for headcannons for the brothers and dateables (if not everyone, you can choose, but please write for Lucifer, mammon and barbatos) would react if MC offers to put chapstick on their lips.

I know it's a strange ask, but imagine this scenario: It's gotten really cold suddenly (in? On? At?) the devildom and MC notices said character has chapped lips and seems very uncomfortable with it. She offers them her (can be gn!reader but I'm using she/her for better explaining) chapstick and they deny, but she insistist in putting on them, and they feel giddy because she's caring so softly for them 😭😭😭

I in the vibe of soft casual love, stay warm and hydrated 🫶🩷🩷🩷🩷

I don't think this is strange at all! Soft caring actions like that are honestly cute as fuck to me. Enjoy!~

Lucifer The absolute quickest to deny you. The great and powerful Lucifer? Receiving a smidgen of help??? The greatest travesty in all the realms, clearly. But bat your eyes and maybe bring him some Demonus and he might crack. Once you get it on, he didn't realize just how badly his lips were chapped. You'll be offered a small thanks, and a promise of something more substantial for a reward once he has more free time.

Mammon How could the cold affect the great Mammon so much? He simply didn't believe you at first. Fun fact, he knew damn well his lips were chapped as fuck. He just really didn't want to admit he needed the help. Simply subdue him with a kiss after putting on the chap stick and he'll be a puddle of grimm in your hands.

Leviathan <Insert MC doing the inhale "BOI" meme here> Being a shut-in means Levi doesn't exactly get out into the cold much. Therefor, he's a little more susceptible to the effects of the cold than his brothers. One trip to get a new Ruri-chan figurine and he's got chapped lips for days. Thankfully he has you to thoughtfully apply chapstick to his lips which leaves him with a persistent blush every time the two of you cross paths.

Satan Oh? It honestly hadn't crossed his mind. While he's no Asmo, Satan does take pretty good care of himself. He's actually the most lenient of the brothers in letting you help. If this were the Nightbringer universe, he's fight you a bit more. Yet the wrestle session would be a nice release for his anger, even if he couldn't go full force on you. He'd thank you by letting you put the chapstick on, blushing in denial of enjoying the attention.

Asmodeus Asmo, sweetheart, darling, you can't use lip gloss as chapstick, I'm sorry. And that'll be his excuse, mark my words! You have to explain to him that sadly, most gloss doesn't cover the chapping and he'll be more than amenable to let you put it on him. In true Asmo-chan fashion, of course he'll need to test it on you, just to be sure. A reward for helping him always look beautiful.

Beelzebub This man's gonna try to eat the chapstick, and no, you cannot convince me otherwise. You know how people see a big animal and go "if not friend, why friend shaped"? Beel, sweet himbo lad that he is will legit ask you, "if not food, why food smelling?". Did you have to reapply it multiple times because he kept licking it off? Yes. Did he complain to you every time that it didn't taste nearly as good as it smelled? Also yes. Did he learn his lesson? Nope!

Belphegor He spends ONE (1) NIGHT up in the observatory and ends up with chapped lips. It's rather annoying to him, and he genuinely doesn't hear you the first few times when you offer to put chapstick on for him. Belphie will deny it at first purely on the basis of "I'm not a little kid just because I'm the youngest". Just wait til he gets too tired to fight you on it and you'll get a mumbled little "thank you" before becoming his favorite pillow. Hope you have nothing to do for the next few hours.

Solomon Unsurprisingly enough, it wasn't the cold that got him! It was a spell gone wrong in trying to make a chapstick that would never let your lips chap again. Solomon sighs very defeatedly and sits back with a pout as he lets you put the balm on his lips. For practice purposes, he has you sit down and look over the ingredients to see where he went wrong. May or may not purposefully mess it up again to have you so close again.

Simeon You can't tell me this man wouldn't absentmindedly pick at the chapped parts of his lips. He can't be perfect forever ya'll, he's gotta be a little weird like the rest of us. (/j) You actually catch him in the act which makes Simeon fluster and admit to forgetting his chapstick in his room. His denial of attention and care for you is half-hearted and he very quickly crumbles at the chance to be so close to you. Maybe he'll have to forget his chapstick more often.

Barbatos This man is far too busy to realize his lips were chapped. It was one of those rare instances that you two crossed paths that you noticed and offered to put some on for him. In another rare instance, you notice Barbatos blush slightly because he didn't realize he'd looked so out of sorts. He had meetings with Lord Diavolo later that day as well, so yes! Please! Quickly! You make sure to add a generous amount in the hopes that it would last him through his meetings.

Diavolo His lips were chapped? Truly? It's only then that the demon lord to be realizes how absolutely flooded he'd been and that Barbatos had even told him about that earlier in the day. When you offer, Diavolo tries to politely decline, asking you not to waste what you have on him. It only takes a few minutes of remembering how busy he'll be and how this is absolutely a chance to know even a smidgen more info about you that he relents and lets you apply it gingerly to his lips.

206 notes · View notes

morose-melodies · 1 year

Text

how to defeat a giant | yandere! fatui harbingers x reader

content warning: none

summary: due to dottore's carelessness, he broke a glass jar while experimenting with toxic gasses and now the gasses a spreading throughout the castle.

note: I finally wrote part 3, yay. I've had half of it written for months but didn't know how to continue it, so I gave up. but I finally finished it, yay. I'm not sure if it's going to be all that good though and so sorry for the lazy ending, I did not know how to finish it. but anyway, I hope you all enjoy :)

taglist: @kaveh-is-pretty @nomorefstogive @frankypasta @salacun @teal-aurora

part 1 part 2 part 3

the sky was falling.

you were sure of it and afraid. the dark, star-less sky was falling, growing closer and closer to the ground, and soon, the sky would meet the earth.

you pressed your palms against the cold window and looked up, frozen and afraid, what can anyone do in a situation like this?

perhaps you could stop this from happening if only you had your power, but alas, that was in the past, you've changed and no longer wield the power that made you special.

"no..." a stray tear left your eye as you moved away from the window and towards the door to your room, you knocked, gently at first but as time passed it became more frantic and rough.

you began to feel faint, and your knocking became harder and you began to cry, "please, open this door! please someone- anyone! open the door!"

no answer.

you cried harder, the side of your hand becoming sore from banging on the door, you knocked and cried for quite some time but never gained an answer which led you to back away from the door and sit beside the window again.

you felt terrible. you rested your cheek against the window and cried, watching as the sky fell.

...

"what have you done, dottore?" PIERRO questioned dottore as DOTTORE passed out gas masks to all of the present harbingers, "there was a small incident." dottore replied.

COLUMBINA giggled as dottore tried to water down the situation before them.

"small? soldiers are fainting from that gas- some are in critical condition, what do you mean small?" SANDRONE snapped at dottore, as she slid the mask onto her face.

"this is a first. nothing like this has happened to me before-"

"mistakes from you will not be tolerated. some soldiers are barely breathing and delirious due to your mistake, nothing like this will happen again, understood?" pierro narrowed his eyes as he watched dottore humbled himself and nodded, before saying "of course, lord harbinger."

columbina messed with the straps on her gas mask as she asked, "do you think the gasses have reached out mag-"

"has something happened, where are all of the soldiers?" asked PANTALONE as he entered the castle, pierro quickly pulled pantalone in and shut the door behind pantalone, "we cannot let the gasses reach the town if that happens, we will never hear the end of it."

columbina tuts, after being cut off but didn't attempt to speak again.

"gasses-?" before pantalone could ask, dottore handed him a gas mask and with no questioning, he slid it over his face, "what gas? what has happened?" pantalone asked, and before dottore could explain, sandrone said, "dottore made a mistake, broke a jar full of toxic gasses, its harming harbingers and yet he doesn't seem to... care that much."

pantalone nodded slowly, his eyes roaming across the room slowly, but his majesty was nowhere to be seen, "where is our majesty?"

everyone paused, silence overtaking them before dottore said, with a scoff, "don't worry, our majesty is in the safest room of the castle, the gasses wouldn't be able to reach our majesty so soon."

"we don't want the gasses to reach our majesty at all!" sandrone was on the verge of ripping her hair out from the frustration she felt.

"we should check on our majesty..." columbina butted in, as she tugged at the straps of the gas mask, harder.

"do you know the side effect of the gasses, dottore?" pantalone asked, and dottore shook his head, "I know nothing about the gas, I was merely messing around when the jars broke."

"so... you were just playing with toxic gasses-"

"yes."

sandrone released a sigh, as she turned away from dottore, her frustration apparent as she clenched her fist. columbina grinned at the chaos, "how long have the gasses been flowing around?" she asked.

"for more than two hours now," dottore replied before sighing, hard... he believed everyone was completely overreacting.

"we must check on our majesty... just in the case that anything has happened, " pantalone said before he turned on his heel and began to walk up the staircase which led to your room.

the front door opened once again, "hey-!"

pierro pulled CHILDE into the castle and shut the door behind him, before handing him a gas mask, "what's this for?" childe asked as he slid it onto his face.

"dottore... released toxic gasses into the air," sandrone briefly explain and childe laughed, "really? I would have never expected that from him."

"me neither," columbina grinned and childe quickly looked over to the corner where columbina was resting and cringed slightly as he nodded.

...

"your majesty...? if you don't mind, we're coming in," pantalone warned but gained no response. pantalone opened the door and looked in, you weren't by the door or on your bed.

you were by the window, on the ground. pantalone fully entered the room and dottore followed after him. "you said our majesty was safe-"

"perhaps our majesty is resting," dottore said, trying not to worry pantalone as he turned you onto your back.

the gas had definitely reached you.

he could tell, from the way you were twitching and choking on your drool, the way your eyes rolled back into your head, and the way you were barely breathing.

dottore turned to pantalone, and tried his best to remain calm as he asked, "go back down and get a gas mask for our majesty, do not take your time."

pantalone was quick to leave the room and go down the stairs, to see that CAPITANO and ARLECCHINO had arrived, "I need a gas mask for our majesty."

pierro handed a gas mask to pantalone, then he went back up, just as he was walking up the stairs, capitano asked, "is our majesty not doing well?"

"I'm sure our majesty will be fine," pantalone replied but his voice was laced with uncertainty, which caused capitano to follow after pantalone.

pantalone reentered the room and capitano followed after him, "here," he handed the mask to dottore and dottore put the mask onto you.

dottore connected his and your mask (let us all pretend that something like that exists), so that his oxygen would become your own so that you could regain consciousness soon.

you choked before a small cry left your lips, pantalone kneeled to your side and ran his fingers across your arm, "are you feeling well, your majesty?"

"...sky... the sky, " you choke out as you attempted to sit up but dottore stopped you, mumbling for you to relax because you didn't feel well.

"what about the sky, your majesty-"

"pantalone, our majesty is already confused and you are making our majesty even more confused." dottore grumbled before lifting you into his and handing you over to capitano, after unconnecting your masks.

capitano took you down the stairs, "the sky... sky," you continue to repeat and in response, capitano hushed you, saying, "your majesty, calm down... you're confusing yourself."

"lay our majesty onto that table," dottore said to capitano, knowing he couldn't take you into his laboratory, so he settled for the dining room table, "and get a blanket for our majesty," dottore said to childe who idly sat on the table.

capitano placed you once the table and you tried to sit up once again, "the sky... it-" capitano gently placed a hand onto your shoulder and with a gentle push you lay motionless on the table.

"the sky..." you mumbled idly, weakly reaching out to sandrone, who looked over to you anxiously, she quickly made her way to your side and took your hand into hers, "what's wrong, your majesty?"

but you didn't reply but continued to mindlessly mumble on about the sky. what was happening? why do you feel so bad? why are all the harbingers leaning over you with worried expressions?

"our majesty will be alright, with time, surly the side effects will fade off, our majesty's immune system is far stronger than the average human's immune system" dottore tried to calm the others, though his words didn't seem to calm them at all.

"i can't believe this!" sandrone grumbled, her fists tight as she narrowed her eyes at dottore, "this wouldn't have happened if you were a little more... more careful!"

seeing you so weak... disheartened sandrone.

"hey, you heard dottore, our majesty will be fine. just give our majesty some time to come around," childe stood at the edge of the table, a small smile on his face, as his hand rested upon your ankle, as he tried to comfort sandrone though his words didn't seem to reach her.

"what...? what's happening, where-" you pushed yourself up slowly, eyes squinted, vision blurred and hands shaking.

"your majesty-!"

"sandrone, quiet." pierro held a hand up, to silence her or anyone else who would attempt to speak.

you were silent, staring off past the harbingers and at the wall. your lips parted and breath uneven. "pierro- tell me what's happening," you commanded as you ran your fingers across the gas mask on your face, "wh-what is this?"

"dottore released toxic gasses into the air as a result of him carelessly messing around with the gasses in his laboratory." pierro replied, his tone sharp as he glanced back at dottore.

"forgive me, your majesty." dottore apologized, his eyes closely watching you as you looked around at all the harbingers.

columbina sat down beside you, her cold fingertips running across your skin, as she felt for your pulse and smiled.

"now, your majesty, you were saying something about the sky... do you remember what you were talking about?" pantalone asked.

"yes..." you started, as you tried to get off of the dining table but capitano grabbed your arm and pulled you back to where you were once sitting, "the sky... was falling. i saw it," you told the harbingers.

"falling? is that even possible?" arlecchino asked, and dottore shook his head, "completely impossible. perhaps the gasses reached her sooner than i initially thought it had," dottore mumbled to himself but sandrone, being so shaken up by what had happened, said, "this is terrible! You're just terrible. you've caused our majesty unnecessary suffering... thanks to your carelessness."

"have I not apologized countless times?" dottore asked, his eyes narrowed at sandrone, "if you hadn't been so carele-"

"stop it- the both of you. do you not realize you're making this about yourselves other than our majesty? both of you, come with me" pierro grabbed dottore and sandrone by their arms and with a less than polite grin, excused the three of them.

columbina grinned as dottore and sandrone got pulled away.

the remaining harbingers sat in silence.

childe sat at the edge of the table, his hand rubbing your ankle. to childe, it was an honor to touch your skin... your perfect skin... heck, it was an honor to even be able to serve you.

arlecchino was admittedly quite angry though she made no comments. how could dottore be so careless... our majesty could have died because of him... how dare he. she stood at your side, her hands pocketed in an attempt to look composed but by the way she was biting her lip, it was obvious that she wasn't at all happy with what happened.

capitano was at the side of arlecchino, he silently stared down at you, he was just grateful that you were okay. things could be worse. but they aren't and he's grateful for that. he wanted to hold you again but he knew if he did, he'd end up never letting you go.

columbina was sitting at your side, her cold fingertips grazing your skin, as she hummed to you. she was happy, to say the least, she didn't want to be away from you for so long ever again. she smiled softly as she held your hand.

pierro came back minutes later, "your majesty is going to recover just fine. some of the soldiers are already making recoveries themself."

the tension amongst the harbingers seemed to fade and everything seemed okay again.

466 notes · View notes

aspiring-spellcaster · 2 months

Text

I’ve been thinking a lot about Emerie and Hemlock and I realized their relationship reminds me of Rapunzel and Mother Gothel. The gaslighting and manipulation tactics are very similar and I’ll explain why.

1. Fear of the outside world

While Emerie could just be referring to the dangerous jungle surrounding the lab, I think she’s also talking about the galaxy at large. Emerie has been with Hemlock most of her life so it’s safe to assume he’s the one who convinced her that it’s safer inside the lab than outside as a way of keeping her under his control.

2. If you leave you’ll die

Hemlock argues that Batcher was too weak to be released into the wild but Omega has faith that she can survive and knows she deserves a chance. Then the camera cuts to Emerie and we realize Batcher is a metaphor for Emerie. Once again, we see the effects Hemlock’s teachings have had on Emerie. She is resigned to the fact that to leave would be a death sentence. But Omega exposes her to a new point of view. Maybe she can leave. Maybe she can survive. Either way she deserves a chance at a free life.

3. Mother knows best

“This is for your own good” is always a red flag but who was the first person to say that to Emerie? Who told her to stop asking questions? I can’t help but imagine a young Emerie more like Omega being told by Hemlock that every terrible thing he did was for her own good until she didn’t question it anymore. Hemlock controls her so much even when she wants to disobey him it’s as though she physically cannot. (Sorry the video has no sound)

Despite all this, Emerie still tries to help Omega in what little ways she can like letting her keep her doll. Even when she tries to stop Omega and Crosshair from escaping it’s because she genuinely believes if they leave they’ll die.

Anyway in conclusion Emerie deserves a happy ending and Hemlock needs to suffer.

#the bad batch #the bad batch spoilers #tbb #emerie karr #dr hemlock #star wars #my post

120 notes · View notes

lalachat · 6 months

Text

"And there you were..."

Author's note: LET ME TELL YOU I HAVE NEVER WANTED TO FIGHT SOMEONE AS MUCH AS I DID WRITING THIS! Literally had this vision in my head and I got so heated I knew this was going to be a good chapter. MUAHAHA all the spooky vibes from Halloween are getting to me. I hope you guys enjoy this one because the plot is thickening. Also, I might be making a far stretch on one of the jokes i put in here... I am pretty sure these don't exist in ACOTAR but for the sake of the joke, just pretend they do 😭

Summary: After everyone in the Town House finding out about your night with Lucien and bond with Azriel, you have a nice relaxing night in with your girls... or so you thought it would be relaxing.

This is for all my Lucien girlies❤️

Warnings: lots of cursing, talk of wingspan and sex, verbal violence, and potential grammar errors

Word Count: ≈ 3,154

Chapter 5: "GYNO?"

While you were getting ready, Feyre and Rhysand were back in their room discussing what they had just learned about you-

“What should we do Rhys? Az has been wishing for his mate for so long, but little does he know that he has been so infatuated with Elain it’s caused a blockage of his bond with y/n!” as she too is getting ready for girl’s night.

“The only thing we can do is be there for y/n and for Az when the time comes. This is a very peculiar situation y/n and Az have gotten themselves into,” he chuckles as he places his hands on the sides of her waist looking at her getting ready.

“I know, and this just has gotten messier with time. It already was messy enough with Lucien being Elain's mate and her liking Az. But now, y/n being Azriel’s mate and liking Lucien just seems way too coincidental. I can tell she likes him; she is just in denial because she's still holding onto some glimmer of hope with Azriel,” she pauses. “Something just feels off Rhys,” as she starts to think through what could be going on.

“I also feel like there is something is off, and I think it’s deeply rooted. Only time will tell Feyre darling,” he says as he kisses the top of her head as she finishes up getting ready.

“I would just hate for any of them to get hurt…” she frowns up at Rhys.

“And no one will, because we will be there for them every step of the way no matter what happens,” he reassures her with a soft kiss on her lips. “Now, go have some fun with the girls tonight! But not too much fun,” he looks at her with a playful smile.

“We cannot promise anything,” she giggles. “GNI here I come!”

“GNI?” Rhys questions at the unfamiliar term.

“GNI stands for “Girls Night In,” usually it is GNO, but staying in sounds better since we were out a Rita's not too long ago.” She explains.

“GNO? Isn't that a lady doctor?” Feyre burst out into full on laughter. Tears were spilling from her eyes from laughing so hard. Rhys just looked at her questioningly because he didn’t understand what was so funny.

“Rhys… oh bless your soul… GNO is the same thing as GNI, but you go out instead of staying inside. A lady doctor is called a gyno! Oh, I am so telling the girls this!” As she wipes the tears from her eyes and catches her breath.

“Ahh shit… I'm never living that down now…”

“Nope,” as she pops the end of the word as she walks down to the living room for girl's night.

You walk down the stairs into the main living room to find all the girls already there giggling over wine all cozy in their pajamas.

“Wow, already started without me huh?” you say with a fake frown. They all look at you and smile, clearly already seeing some effect of the wine Mor brought.

“No! Just decided to pre-game a little bit!” Mor smiles at you and walks to you to link arms and lead you over to the group. You giggle.

“Well then, the party has arrived! Looks like I need a couple of glasses to catch up to you all!” you laugh. You look over and spot Amren and give her a polite smile. “It's nice to see you again Amren!”

“You too girl,” she says. “We have a lot of catching up to do!” She eyes you a bit eager to know what has been going on, but Feyre steps in.

“Nonono! I am putting a veto on discussing all things that have happened recently! We are here to forget about that and have fun! Now ladies raise your glasses,” Amren rolls her eyes, but everyone raises their wine, “and cheers to us girls and the wonderful night ahead of us!” Everyone whoops and laughs as they take a swig of their wine. You decide to down your glass to try and catch up as everyone cheers you on!

“Thats how you do it baby!” Mor pats you on the back and goes to pour you another glass.

“Oh, this night in is going to be quite interesting,” Amren says with a grin.

“Speaking of, I have something to tell you guys about what Rhys asked me earlier,” Feyre burst into laughter.

“What is it? Tell us girl!” Amren says inpatient with her laughing.

“Rhysand asked me what GNI meant, and I explained that it is basically GNO but instead of going out we stay in the comfort of our own home,” Feyre explained trying to hold in her laughter.

“Ok so like basic information, I don’t understand what is so funny?” Nesta asked confused.

“It gets funny I promise! Rhysand didn’t know what the abbreviation of GNO meant either. He said, and I quote, “GNO? Isn't that a lady doctor?”” As Feyre erupted into a fit of laughter. “He thought GNO was a gyno!”

You were the first to laugh, “You’re joking?”

“I wish I was!” Feyre was on the ground crying, and everyone soon joined her. Even Amren choked on her wine a bit from laughing at the situation Feyre just informed you guys of. Oh, poor Rhys is never going to hear the end of this one from any of you guys.

A couple of glasses later everyone is most definitely feeling the effects of the wine a lot stronger than when you first started. All of you are cuddled up together in blankets giggling over anything and everything. You decided to bring something up that you have been curious about ever since you saw it.

“Hey, Nesta! When I came home earlier today, I saw Cassian reading one of your little books.” You wink at her. “What is the book about, and why was Cassian studying it so intently?” Nesta blushes.

“I made him read a specific chapter on something that I wanted to try…” she admits quietly as she drinks more of her wine. Everyone started screaming asking to know what it was.

“Oh, Nesta come on!! You have to tell us what it is now! We are all girls here, we can handle book smut, I'm sure!” Mor says as she sits up eagerly.

“Yeah, please Nesta!” everyone says simultaneously.

“You guys want a smutty bedtime story?” She giggles as she leaves to go to get her book, and everyone cheers. Nesta comes back with the book, and everyone is already in giggles excited about hearing something they might be able to apply into their lives. “Get comfortable girls because this chapter is going to be wild!”

Everyone’s faces were bright pink along with their jaws being on the floor hearing Nesta read the chapter from the sheer number of descriptions given. Amren was the only one who remained stone faced throughout the whole thing, but you could tell every word that fell from Nesta's lips were remembered by Amren.

“Well, I can surely see why you had Cassian read that chapter now,” Amren smirked as she finished off her glass.

“Especially with his wingspan,” you said quietly, but it did not go unheard as everyone looked your way. “What?! You guys act like you don’t see his wings every day! A girl can appreciate big wingspans and think nothing of it!” Except you do think about it a lot. Curious to know which one of the bat boys has the biggest one. Everyone giggles at your comment.

“Don’t let Cassian hear that y/n, it’ll go straight to his head and then he will tell Rhysand and Az that he has the biggest one,” Nesta said with a knowing smile.

“I don’t mean to be inappropriate, but I think everyone forgets about Rhyland's wings since he only has them for special occasions.” Feyre said smirking.

“Oh little sister, are you challenging my mate’s wingspan?” Nesta eyed playfully, but before Feyre could respond you chirped in with one more fact.

“Ladies we are forgetting about one more male,” you started to blush at the thought of your mate’s wingspan.

“Oh, my gods, Azriel!” Mor finished it for you with a shout, totally feeling dumb not even thinking about the male. “If I am being brutally honest, I think he blows the other two out the water with his wingspan,” Mor said with a smirk as she twirled her wine glass and gave you a wink. This made you really blush now.

“You really think Azriel has the biggest wingspan?” Feyre asked.

“Yes.” Amren spoke and this all made you laugh hearing her agree on something like this.

“Has anyone seen Azriel’s-” Nesta tried to question.

“No,” was heard throughout the room before Mor looked at you knowingly.

“The only person in this room who could even get that close would-be y/n,” Mor said matter of factly. You blushed so hard you hid your face behind your hands.

“Mor! Stop I don’t want that image in my head!” You said giggling.

“I wouldn’t mind it…” Nesta said with a smirk remembering her thought of both Cassian and Azriel. Once again everyone laughed. This night was full of so much comfort and laughter you truly felt so at peace. However, with wine come consequences.

“Oh I forgot y/n only favors a certain red head in bed,” Mor said without thinking.

“MOR!!” You glared at her, and she slapped her hands over her mouth and said sorry. But it was too late, they all heard it.

“YOU HAD SEX WITH LUCIEN?! I thought yall just cuddled all night?!” Feyre asked with a squeal scooting closer to you.

“Ah shit- I guess yall get to know everything now… Before I met you guys, I lived in the spring court for a while,” Mor sat back and nursed her wine waiting for the reaction of the others on what you were about to tell. You tell them the story just as you had with Mor in the bathroom at Rita's. Everyone was in shock to find out about your hidden casual sex relationship with the autumn court male. Feyre was once again the one to speak up first.

“Is what they say true?”

“Is what true Feyre?” you asked back.

‘About them you know… fucking you with the fire in their veins?” Feyre asked eagerly. Everyone then scooted closer to you just like Feyre did earlier. You giggled at their anticipation.

“Yes, and it is so much more than you could even imagine.” Everyone squealed at your response!

“Screw my book y/n, tell us about a time you and Lucien had sex together! I want to hear all about the fire thing!!” Nesta said as everyone else agreed, even Amren is eager. However, before you could respond you heard a sweet voice you wished you hadn’t.

“Y/n, you had sex with my mate?!” Elain said as she had just walked through the door with Azriel, both had bags in their hands from their shopping spree.

“Oh shi-” Mor said before Elain moved closer to you, Azriel following close behind her eyeing you with anger.

“Answer me y/n! Did you or did you not have sex with my mate?!” Elain raised her voice this time.

“Elain I- I don’t know what you heard but I can explain,” you tried to reason with her for gods know what. You owed this female nothing but here you were trying to diffuse the situation. She threw her bag to the floor and pointed a finger at your face.

“NO! You expect me to hear you out after I come home to see everyone having a girl’s night without me, let alone talking about you and Lucien having sex? You are such a backstabbing sl-” before Elain could finish that sentence off Nesta was at her side.

“Elain, seriously drop it. Y/n has a valid explanation, just hear her out,” Nesta pleaded but Elain didn’t care. Maybe it was the protectiveness of the bond coming out of her, but she was not backing down.

“No! I am done being the polite one! You had sex with my mate behind my back! Is that why you both left Rita's? I cannot believe you y/n! No wonder you haven’t found your mate! It’s because you are too busy being a slut and fucking someone else’s mate!” She was fully in your face now; you looked behind her to see Azriel looking like he was about to kill you for hurting Elain. Feyre tried to step in this time.

“Elain, you do not know what you are talking about, you need to stop now before you say something you will regret!”

“Feyre, I do know what I am talking about! I heard it clear as night! She fucked my mate!” You just about had enough of being talked about this way. You kindly pushed Feyre and Nesta away from Elain and gave them small smiles to say sorry for what you were about to do.

“You know Elain, that’s a lot of talk coming from you. A female who has a mate that gladly agreed to her wishes on space. He sleeps alone every night waiting for the day that you will accept him! Oh, but poor Elain has no one to love and accept her! Wake the fuck up! Your mate has done everything for you since the day he found out, and yet you are sleazing yourself away to someone else!” You point at Azriel. “You want to talk about a slut, look in the fucking mirror!” Nesta and Feyre are looking at each other not knowing what to do, while Amren and Mor decide to stay out of it and observe the situation, ready to jump in when needed.

“Be careful how you speak about-” Azriel’s voice said dangerously low, but before he could finish that sentence you cut him off.

“Oh, don’t give me that shit Az! It might have worked in that meeting but it sure as hell isn’t going to work here!” You glared at him. “You are just as much a part of this as I am! Letting her fawn over you knowing she has found her mate is ludicrous! Especially when you’re the one who has dreamt of having a mate to call his own for years! What if your mate was standing right in front of you all along?” Everyone in the room goes silent at your words as you step into his personal space. Azriel's shadows are dancing furiously around him as he glares at you. You try pulling on the bond but are met with nothing in return except emptiness. He still doesn't know.

“You bitch!” Elain cautiously pushes you away from Az. “How dare you talk to us this way when you’re the one who threw themself at my mate knowingly! At least we have self-control!” she pushes her finger against your chest. You swat it away.

“GODS ELAIN! Why do you always have to play the victim! You can never admit to anything you have done wrong! You and him both,” you point at her and Az, “are hurting more people than you realize with whatever you want to call yourselves!”

“Well at least we are happy, unlike your mate less self-” Elain tried to say as you yelled-

“THAT’S IT!” in an instant everyone was in between you. Nesta, Feyre, and Amren blocked you from Elain as Azriel and Mor held you back. “Let me go Azriel!” you thrash in their grip. You watch as Feyre and Nesta try and calm their sister. Amren serving as a middle ground between both groups. You keep thrashing around but it's no use. The shadow singer has you in a tight hold as Mor holds one of your arms. You look at Mor with pleading eyes, but she just shakes her head at you as if to say, “fighting her isn’t right.” And you knew that… You were just so taken back by both her and Azriel being against you without hearing your explanation. Sure, Elain was somewhat valid, but nowhere near as valid as the points you were making.

You soon calmed down and looked at Mor again, “Can you please let me go now? I won’t do anything… anymore.” Mor looked at Az and he put his lips against you ear and said-

“If you so much as think about insulting her or hurting her, I will not hesitate to fire back violence, so be a good girl and walk away.” You cannot lie, having your mate that close to you and hearing him call you a good girl had your heart betraying you for a moment. You shoved yourself out of their grip and stormed towards the door before you would do anything regrettable.

“Where do you think you’re going?! I am not done with you y/n!” Elain screamed as you walked past, the jealousy of the bond obviously still influencing her. You stopped in your tracks and turned around to see Azriel now trying to calm her down. Tears collected in your eyes at the sight. He was supposed to be doing that with you, not her! You begged, screamed, yelled, pushed, and thrashed against that bond inside of you fighting for any kind of response. You don’t know how long you stood there mindlessly watching him comfort Elain as you used every fiber of your being against the bond and got nothing in return. That was your last straw. The wicked voice in your head took full control. Quite literally letting all intrusive thoughts win. You started laughing.

“Gods Elain you have everyone in this damn world wrapped around your pretty little finger, don’t you? Well guess what, I see right through your fucking act of desperation for the male gaze and male attention.” Azriel looked at you as a warning to watch your next words, but Elain ran out of his arms and ran straight to you. You and she were now face to face. A test to see who was daring enough to hit first.

“Fuck you y/n!!” Elain said with a pause between each word, and you smirked.

“I may not be able to fuck myself Elain, but you know what I can fuck?” you slightly paused as the realization hit her. “I can go fuck with fire!” you say with a wink as you walk out the Town House’s front door straight to Lucien’s apartment.

Lucien’s POV:

Lucien was relaxing on his couch reading one of his favorite books before he felt it. An overwhelming flood of emotions hitting him. It was as if they were screaming at him from two different ends of the bond. He learned how to process Elain’s end of the bond throughout the years, but whatever was going on was too much to deal with. This was all unknown feeling. Lucien ran to grab his coat and he quickly put it on. Just as he was reaching for his door to run to Elain, he heard a hard knock. He opened the door to find you in a fit of rage as you stormed inside. “Okay, just come on in why don’t you.” he said sarcastically as he shut the door behind you. "Nice pajamas by the way," he says jokingly before looking at you to see you glaring at him. "Shit, who pissed in your wine tonight?"

If you’re interested in being on my taglist, please let me know!

Tags:

@thelov3lybookworm @justdreamstars @character---obsessed @stained-glass-eyes0708 @acourtofbooksandshadows @sourapplex @annaaaaa88 @b0xerdancer-writes @fireworksacrosshorizons @esposadomd @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @mis-lil-red @fides25

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel #cassian #elain archeron #feyre acotar #nesta archeron #lucien vanserra #lucien x reader #mor acotar

166 notes · View notes

marlinspirkhall · 9 months

Text

I watched the unaired Selection pilots so you don't have to

But, if you want to, you can do so here, and here (password: “selection”), credit to Media Garage on YouTube

Edit: links no longer active

The Selection (2012)

Strong Hunger Games vibes throughout, the plain-text opening screen isn't helping

Stock-footage of rolling hills gets replayed way too much

ETHAN PECK?

Unlike in the books, America only finds out she's been entered into The Selection after she gets selected, so the plot point about the photoshoot & her radiant smile being the thing which gets her selected no longer applies, I guess

Everyone in the YouTube comments was saying that Aspen and Maxon were miscast & the actors' roles should have been swapped (... No comment. I believe in you, Mr Peck)

This castle is looks too small to fit 24 TV show contestants in it

Fiona, unprompted: “Can you keep a secret, America?”

America: “I have been known to”

Fiona: “I play the violin”

Okay? (This is actually a very sweet moment and, again, Fiona may be the best actress in this)

This episode covered a significant portion of the first book, out of order, which makes me wonder if the intention was to cover all 3 books in one series.

This almost feels like half of a film, making me wonder if someone adapted a film spec script into a tv show spec script

Apparently, Fiona has a secret child and Celeste knows about it, causing Fiona to drop out on day one and tearfully warn America to “trust no one, there's no such thing as friends here”- which is a fucking wild thing to say when she's probably the only contestant who's been nice to America so far & Celeste didn't even need to get to know her to know her secrets because she has spies anyway 😭

It's worth reminding you that they have been at the palace for one entire day total

You think Queen Amberly is being fleshed out in this version but... Hmm

Amberly appears to be the one pulling the strings from behind the scenes (she confronts Celeste about extorting Fiona, tells her "she would have gone home in due time" and to "leave America to me. Anything we do to try and separate them [her and Maxom] will only make him want her more")

Again: IT HAS BEEN A DAY

America sees her servant gathering all her dresses (none of which she has used yet, bar the yellow and green ones) including the iconic blue one from the book cover. America asks what's happening and the servant replies: “Prince Maxom's orders”

Cut to America's family. They open a box with a glittering pair of high heels inside. I guess this is supposed to mirror the part of the book where Maxom cuts off the stipend for 2's and 3's who are in the selection?

If you think this version feels unfaithful to the book, just wait until you see The CW's pilot

IT HAS BEEN ONE DAY

Runtime: one day 45 minutes

Final rating: 5/10, kinda long and stiff in places and the set design was all over the place. Felt like a Hallmark movie (the set design didn't help). Probably would watch another episode of this if it was a full series or a limited series of 3-6 episodes. A little script-doctoring and a better set would work wonders.

The Selection (2013)

I cannot stress enough: this version begins with a sex scene between Maxom and a servant

Okay, I got ahead of myself; it actually begins with another hunger-games-esque black screen with text on it, text which reads “Someday, in the future”, which is read aloud by a woman's voice.

We zoom in on a much roomier-looking castle on a hill, as a random whip sound effect plays (leading into the sex scene, in which no whips are present)

All the female servants in the palace are dressed in sexy maid costumes and I wish I was kidding

The world map explaining the history of Illea is CONFUSING AS HELL, but maybe they hadn't nailed down all the details yet. I'm genuinely not sure

ANTONY HEAD?

Aspen is introduced tied to a St Andrew's cross and being watched over by a guard. America asks the guard to free him, he chases her through the streets, she circles back and cuts Aspen down

America's selection is similar to the 2012 pilot, except Aspen is present. America asks her mom why she'd enter her into the selection when “You know I'm with Aspen”, so uh, I guess they're not keeping it a secret here.

There's also no mention of Aspen being of a lower caste than her, nor of America having a job other than the vague title of "laboring class" which hangs over them all, vaguely

This is a masterclass in editing and pacing. The dialogue is okay, but the added geopolitics make no sense. Any issues with this are smoothed over by the fact that the plot keeps moving forwards at a breakneck pace to keep you distracted.

The lack of breathing room would probably be too confusing for an audience who wasn't already familiar with The Selection

The set here is absolutely beautiful but unfortunately it gives me Merlin vibes, and casting Antony Head as the king does not help with this.

Maxon attempts to pull a Mr Darcy. He then tells America that if she runs away with Aspen, the guards will beat him to a pulp and they'll both spend the rest of their lives in prison. America suggests that she make the monarchy look good so the working class don't side with the rebels. Looks like we're going full Hunger Games.

Celeste's handmaiden seems way too devoted to her; they turn out to be lovers

Just when you think Maxon might start redeeming himself, we see the palace guards swarm Aspen and kicking him. Maxom stands nearby on his horse overseeing this so there's no question of whether he did it or not

Final rating: 6/10, I would absolutely watch another episode of this. It was an absolute mess, but I've seen teen wolf, so I'm not gonna pretend I'm above it.

This feels like the kind of pilot which would get greenlit just to attract hateviewers.

Summary:

Neither protagonist had red hair and neither adaptation was trying particularly hard to give it to her (2012: dark red box dye. 2013: blonde!)

These actors are doing their best and some of them even seem to be having fun (good for them)

In the 2013 pilot, the writers lampshade America running around “like an action hero”, but she promptly forgets how to do that by the midpoint of the episode, so w/e

It feels like the 2013 pilot was a reworking of the 2012 pilot, because there were too many similarities carried over from one script to another which weren't present in the original book, like Fiona having a secret relationship.

I forgot to mention that Aspen has a brother in the 2013 pilot. He seems to be adapted from the palace guard who has a relationship with one of the contestants in a later book.

I can't get over how fucking weird of a decision it is to make the kind and likeable love interest into a power-corrupt despot, but it does feel more true to an actual monarchy. I assume they were trying to give Maxon a bad-boy vibe, which doesn't make much sense because that's supposed to be Aspen's whole deal.

There was a whole subplot in both pilots where an advisor character is revealed to be working with the rebels at the end of the episode

Extremely funny to me that the 2012 pilot makes a point of mentioning that sex before marriage is illegal and the 2013 pilot opens with premarital sex with the prince regent

#The Selection series #The Selection #Kiera Cass #Anthony Head #Ethan Peck #dystopian fiction #YA fiction #undescribed #America Singer #Prince Maxon #long post

284 notes · View notes