#i’ve spent far longer on worse shows

[spacecravat]

the thing with good omens is that ultimately it doesn’t even matter to me if it’s kinda bad sometimes. these are my good friends aziraphale and crowley and i WOULD watch them do silly pointless nonsense for hours

#like this does presuppose an at least moderate adherence to the source #vs say the cancelled movie version #which was just bad. instead of kinda bad #but the tv show at least whatever its faults does seem to be created with love #i’ve spent far longer on worse shows #anyway. my good friends aziraphale and crowley who i’ve known for most of my life #good omens #h #5h #k

[daydreaming-nerd]

The Bonds That Break Us (Rhysand x Female! Reader) Part 3

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Final Part

Request: "Would you do a Rhysand x fem!reader series? Maybe fem!reader is Rhysand's mate and Tamlin's sister? So secret love?"

AN: thank you so much for all the feedback! I am loving hearing your guys thoughts and I'm having so much fun with this

Summary: It was almost as if the cauldron liked to play games, as if it had sensed years of boredom and predictability and begged to be entertained. Its method of absolving its melancholy? Mate the High Lord of the Night Court to the younger sister of the High Lord of Spring. 

Warnings (so far): SMUT (consensual), oral (female receiving), mentions of SA.

Word count: 2730

(all photos are from pinterest)

The following day was another quiet day, and though Rhysand had stayed up with me all night like he promised, I didn’t hear from him in the morning. I avoided my brother at all costs and Lucien as well and spent the morning and afternoon getting ready for the ball at the Autumn Court that would be taking place tonight. I was sure to pick my dress carefully, opting for purple again.

I used to not care for balls, most of the time I would show up and not have anyone to see save for Viviane and Kallias who always had each other to dance with. This of course left me to dance with Lucien or not dance at all. I always left bored and feeling more lonely than I had been before I got there. 

I knew tonight would be different not just because of Rhys, but because of Eris. My brother has made it very clear at breakfast that I was to dance and charm Eris all night. The thought made my stomach churn and my eyes water, but I knew better than to disobey. 

From the second I walked into the ballroom I could feel Rhysand. The mass of people swirling and dancing around under the gargantuan chandelier made it near impossible for me to find him. I nearly reached out with the bond before my brother grabbed my arm harshly. 

“Remember sister, you are to charm Eris whatever means necessary,” he growled in my ear so only I could hear. 

“I will, now I’m going to find Viviane.” I glared and sauntered off to do just that. 

The ballroom was impossibly packed but finding Viviane’s ice white hair among the crowd was easier than I thought it would be. 

“Well you two look amazing,” I beam walking over to where her and Kallias are being wall flowers. Her dress looks like it was made entirely out of frost, and cascades down her body like it was made for her, knowing how Kallias likes to dote on her it probably was. 

“Me? Look at you! Purple is your color,” she smiles. 

“So, are there any eligible bachelors for me to romance tonight?” I laugh taking her arm and walking around the perimeter of the ballroom with her and Kallias. 

“No one worthy of note, but you know how picky I am when selecting a suitable man for you,” she giggles. 

“That’s true, you’re a worse critic than I am,” I smile. We promenade around the dancefloor until we run into one of Viviane’s friends and she stops to talk. I take it as my opportunity to glance around the room looking for a particular High Lord and finally I find him. 

He’s at the edge of the room wearing black as usual, conversing easily with two Illyrians. Their wings take up most of the space around them. The one with longer hair is obviously drunk as he lets out a laugh that reverberates throughout the room, the one with the shorter hair, swathed in shadows, simply shakes his head and smiles. Rhysand has yet to see me and to draw his attention I give the bond a tug, the first time I’ve ever done it. 

His head snaps up in my direction and I see the corner of his mouth curl. 

By the cauldron, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, my mate. 

“Why thank you my lord, I seemed to remember you had a certain affinity for the color violet,” I muse back to him and I swear from this distance I can see his eyes light up. 

The Illyrians next to him turn their heads to look at me, the one with the long hair gives me a knowing smirk and I quickly turn my head back to the conversation Viviane is having. 

I hear Rhys chuckle in my head, They don’t bite darling. Well Cassian might, but only if you ask him to. He muses over the bond. 

“An interesting proposal, I’ll keep it in mind,” I say back trying to hide my smile. 

You little minx. 

Before I can say anything back I feel a hand on my back, I turn to find Eris there, a hopeful look in his eye. He takes my hand and kisses it in greeting. 

“Y/n, what a pleasure it is to have you in our court.” he smiles.

“Of course, my brother and I were very honored to receive an invitation,” I say, trying to sound as chipper as possible. 

“You were the first invite we sent, by now I’m sure your brother has told you of my feelings towards you,” he smirks. 

“He has brought them to my attention, and I must say I’m flattered,” I smile.

“Might I have this dance?” he asks, my eyes flit to Rhysand for half a second, but it’s long enough that I can see the rage simmering in those violet eyes.

“Of course,” I say, taking Eris’ hand and allowing him to lead me to the dancefloor. His hand spreads over my waist almost obsessively as we waltz around the room. 

“You really are quite the sight to behold y/n, I can see why your brother keeps you locked up in the Spring Court,” Eris praises me. 

“I regret that he does so, if I had been allowed out more I would’ve found out much sooner how amazing of a dancer you are,” I smile flirtatiously. 

“Among one of my many talents my dear, though you’ll find out soon enough about those,” he whispers in my ear. 

We dance on and on swirling about the room to the music. From the corner of my eye I can see Tamilin and Beron watching the two of us and for the first time in a long time Tamlin almost looks happy. However it’s not long until I see his eyes catch on to a beautiful brunette that seems to grab all his attention. My skin starts to buzz again and it isn’t long until a large hand claps Eris on the shoulder. 

“Mind if I cut in?” Rhysand asks Eris smoothly. His words say one thing but his eyes look at Eris like he would cut off his hands or other important body parts if he were to say no. 

“Of course,” Eris says, passing me off to Rhysand and taking his leave.

“You’re going to get me in trouble,” I snap at him.

“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t stand to watch another minute of that,” he says cooly. 

“Someones jealous,” I muse.

“Very,” Rhysand confesses with a small smile. 

 As we sweep across the dancefloor, the feeling of his hand on my waist is all too familiar and I can’t help but remember the last time it was there. I look to the side to find the two Illyrains standing at the edge of the ballroom watching us. 

“Who did you bring with you tonight?” I ask Rhys. 

“My most trusted friends and members of my court, Cassian and Azriel. Azriel is my spymaster and Cassian is the general of my armies.” he explains. “I grew up with them, they are like brothers to me.” 

“Do they know?” I inquire further. 

“That we’re mates? Yes. I think Cassain would start a war for you already,” he chuckles. 

“Interesting, I would’ve thought they’d be upset,” I say, turning my head back towards Rhys.  

“You are not my court’s enemy, your brother is. You aren’t damned by association, and besides they are my brothers, they want me to be happy.” Rhys explains further.

“It sounds like you have quite the amazing family,” I acknowledge and he picks up on the longing in my phrase right away. “I doubt I’ll be treated the same here in the Autumn Court.”

“Why would it matter how the Autumn Court treats you?” he questions. 

“Because I’m marrying Eris,” I sigh, keeping my head down, unable to meet the sadness I know resides in his eyes now. 

“What?” he growls and for the first time since I’ve known him I’m afraid of him. 

“My brother has decided to marry me off to Eris for political gain,” I explain further.

Rhys takes my hand and drags me off the dancefloor, at this point people are so drunk they don’t even notice. He leads me to a room off the ballroom and closes the door. I take a moment to look around at the dimly lit study, filled with old books and mahogany furniture. I lean against the desk and look at Rhys.

“You’re not going to marry Eris,” he fumes. 

“You say that like I have the option to say no,” I retort as he closes in further. 

“If you marry Eris he will destroy you from the inside out, you will become nothing but a breeding vessel to give him sons.” he tells me.

“I’m going to be the same thing to any Lord my brother marries me to,” I sneer at him. 

“That’s not true,” Rhysand shakes his head. 

“Oh really?” I scoff. 

“It wouldn’t be that way with me. You would be my wife, and my High Lady as well as my  mate. You wouldn’t have to be sexually assaulted in your own home, or barricade yourself in your room to be safe! You would have rights and freedom and you would have Cassian and Azriel and a family that loves you!” he yells passionately, getting closer to me. “And you would have me, and I would love you too.” he confesses quieter.

A tear slips from my eye as I take in all that he’s said. He looks at me from just an arms length away, waiting for me to say something back.

 “Rhysand I can’t-” I start to say. 

“Don’t you dare say that you can’t,” he says, stepping forward and caging me into the desk, his mouth dangerously close to my own. “If you were mine there’s not a person in this world that would dare to touch you. You know that.”

I feel a hand go to my waist and he uses the other to wipe the tears from my eye. A different kind of tension fills the room as his breath fans my face leaving kisses where my tears once were. 

“Rhys please,” I rasp out lightly pushing him away.  His hands on my waist tighten. 

“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want me to kiss you right now y/n,” he says tilting my chin up to meet his gaze. He’s right, I do want him to kiss me but I can’t even form the words to ask him that. “I thought so,” he says and then his lips are on mine. 

I taste all of him and need all of him. He pulls me so close to him I think I might melt into his skin. I throw my hands around his neck like he might be ripped away from me at any given moment. I feel his hands leave my waist and fly to the desk behind me. The next thing I hear is the clattering of glass, books and paper. He lifts me up and places me on the desk positioning his frame between my legs. 

“Rhys,” I moan as his lips find my neck. 

“I love it when you say my name,” he groans into the kiss, using his body to press my back into the desk and anywhere that isn’t concealed by my dress gets goosebumps from the cold surface. “I need to taste you,” his hands travel down my body and he sinks to his kneels before me, never breaking eye contact. 

“What are you doing?” I ask earnestly. 

“Have you ever had a man touch you here?” he questions back, his hand ghosting over my clothed core, my breath hitches. 

“N-no,” I squeak. He lifts up the many layers of my skirt and bunches them around my waist. 

“And have you ever touched yourself here?” he further inquiries rubbing a hand over my undergarments. 

I’m too embarrassed to speak, I just give him a shallow nod.

“Probably while you’re reading all those dirty books right y/n darling?” he smirks loving how the pink tints my cheeks. “And do you want me to touch you here?”  

I give him another shallow nod. 

“I’m gonna need to hear words darling,” he persists. 

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly I spit out, “Yes.” 

“Yes what?” he taunts me. 

“Yes I want you to touch me there,” I whine. 

He lets loose a feral grin before I feel him gently pull down my undergarments, taking his time to let his fingertips brush down the expanse of both my legs while he does it.  He pulls then off over my heels and discards them. I watch him intently as he lowers his mouth to me and licks a long stripe clean up my pussy flicking my clit at the very top. My back arches off the desk and I let out a moan. 

“Shhh darling, we can’t have other people knowing what sinful things you’re allowing me to do to you right now. Especially poor Eris, he’ll never get to hear you moan like this for as long as he lives,” Rhys smirks before disappearing under my dress again to feast on me. 

My back arches again and my hand flies over my mouth to cover my own moan. I feel Rhysand bring one of his hands up to grasp my free one. A touch so simple, yet so intimate. His tongue swirls hungrily over my clit and it takes everything in me not to scream. I squeeze his hand tighter and he chuckles, sending a vibration through my pussy. 

You taste amazing, like you were made for me. He says into my mind. 

I squeeze his hand harder at his word. I had spent most of my life reading books about this, sex and romance. I assumed all the women writing them were exaggerating how good it could be. In the spring court it was always seen as a pleasure for the male, not the female. But the way Rhys is using his tongue on me right now, has me seeing stars which I know is no coincidence. His mouth closes around my clit suckling it. 

“Rhys,” I breathe out. 

Fuck darling. I lied, I like it when you say my name, I love it when you moan it. 

“Rhys I’m gonna,” I cry trying to keep quiet. 

Cum mate. I want you to cum all over my face. He growls into my mind. 

It was almost as if he compelled me to. My back arches off the desk for the final time and I use my hand to stifle any sound that comes out of my mouth. He works me through my orgasm and when my body stops shaking he places one final kiss over my clit. His head pops up from under my skirts, his eyes shown with satisfaction as he licks the remnants of my arousal off his lips. 

I was on him before he could even speak, pulling him by his neck and kissing him hard. I fumble for the strings on his pants and he grabs my wrist to stop me.  

“No, not tonight,” he states. I immediately feel disappointment, the sedition I felt earlier had long left me the second that man licked his lips. 

“Rhys please,” I whine. 

“As much as it makes my cock twitch to hear you beg for me, I won’t let the first time I fuck you be on Beron Vanserra’s desk.” he chuckles, and leans in close to my ear. “Because when I’m inside you for the first time my mate I want to hear every strangled cry and moan I pull from your body. And when I cum inside you for the first time I want to hear you scream my name so loud all of Prythian knows just who’s mate you are. Is that clear?” 

Butterflies hit my stomach and all I can do is nod slowly every coherent thought in my brain long gone. All I can think of is how badly I want him to make good on his promise.

“Good girl, now let's get your panties back on before a certain High Lord of Spring starts to miss you,” he smiles.

Taglist: Taglist: @heyyitsnat21 , @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson , @randomperson1234sblog , @local-fangirl09 , @bleh-81 , @annaaaaa88 , @cauldronboilmetakemetovelaris

#rhysand #rhys acotar #rhysand x reader #rhysand fluff #rhysand angst #rhysand x reader smut #rhysand smut #rhysand x y/n #rhysand x you

[heliads]

sorry to send in two requests but if you've got the time Luke Patterson x reader where she is his tutor for English or something and he develops a crush, so even when he understands the stuff she's teaching him he pretends to be confused so that the tutoring sessions last longer. And then one day he gets a good grade and she's proud of him but that means the sessions are over so he builds up the courage to ask her out? You can put this at the bottom of the list or not even write it because I know how swamped your requests get, but ily.

do not apologize for two requests!! my blog exists for you!! and jatp s2 may be dead but my feelings for that show are not. xoxo

masterlist

Luke Patterson is currently fighting a one-man war against his English class, and he is losing. Badly. This was not supposed to be his problem class, he was thinking the biggest struggle would be math or science, but surprise surprise, there’s no such thing as a class you can just skate through. He tried to skate through English. He tried really, really hard, but instead of Spark Notes-ing his way through whatever classic book they threw his way, Luke’s staring at a bright red D on his latest essay.

This would happen to be the most recent essay they were assigned, the one Luke pushed off until the last minute because he was too invested in getting some good songs down on paper. He hadn’t meant to procrastinate, he never does, it’s just that whenever Luke had a spare hour or two, it’s always far more tempting to head out to the studio and mess around with some chord progressions than to do homework.

This essay had gone just like all the other ones so far this year. The book had been assigned, the essay followed not soon after, and Luke told himself that he was going to start it on time for a change. The only problem was that he came home late that day after a shift at his job, so he couldn’t start it that day, and then he was studying for a test the next day, and after that he was working on songs. Before he knew it, it was the night before and he was speed writing to get everything down in time. Luke doesn’t even think he had time to proofread before turning in that mess.

So yeah, he shouldn’t really be surprised about this grade in particular. Still, he isn’t pleased about it. He doesn’t want to see the look on his parents’ face when he dodges another question about his grades, nor listen to all the other kids in his class talk about how easy that essay prompt was. Everything just makes him feel worse.

And, if Luke’s day couldn’t get any better, his English teacher pulls him aside after class to talk about it.

“I noticed your last few assignments haven’t been going as expected,” she says sympathetically, “is there anything you want to tell me about that?”

There’s a lot Luke wants to tell her, such as the fact that this class is dry as a saltine and twice as bland. They’ve spent the last few classes just going over social hierarchies around the time when the book was written, talk about boring. If Luke wanted to study history, he’d read a textbook.

He can’t say all that without damaging his final grade even more, though, so Luke plasters on a grin and does his best impression of an earnest student who’s just had a bad string of luck. “Not really, I’ve just been so busy recently that I didn’t have enough time to really ponder the prompt, you know?”

Usually, this is Luke’s best strategy for getting out of these kinds of nonsense conferences. He’ll whip out a few key words like ‘time commitments’ and whatnot and his teachers will fall for it every time.

He might have done this too often, though, because his teacher just nods and refuses to let him go. “That makes sense to me. Do you think it would help to spend a little more time exploring the prompt or connecting the book to the essay topics?”

“Sure,” Luke says vaguely. He’s only half paying attention; he just saw Reggie outside the door mouthing the words what did you do?? as dramatically as he could.

The teacher looks pleased by this. “That’s what I thought. I’ve gone ahead and signed you up for some tutoring sessions, you’ll start this afternoon after school.”

Luke blinks. “Wait, what?” Clearly, he hasn’t been paying attention nearly enough. Since when was tutoring on the table?

The teacher spreads her hands. “You need a little more help and organization to stay on track. Tutoring is the perfect answer to this.”

“Is it?” Luke asks feebly.

“Absolutely,” the teacher decides, and that’s that. Luke tries to wheedle his way out of it through repetition of how busy he is, like, all the time, but it doesn’t matter. She’s caught him in a half-lie and there’s nothing he can do to avoid it.

Reggie’s waiting for Luke outside the door when he finally leaves. “What happened in there?”

“Pure misery,” Luke groans, and contemplates giving himself a concussion by ‘accidentally’ falling down the stairs so he can go home without having to go to tutoring.

Unfortunately, Reggie enlists Alex in keeping Luke free of head trauma, and so he finds himself in an empty classroom later that afternoon, mournfully watching all of the other students leave the school with no doubt wonderful plans awaiting them.

Luke’s just starting to wonder if his tutor isn’t going to show up after all (after fifteen minutes, he’s legally allowed to leave, right) when someone slides into the seat in front of him.

“Sorry about being late,” they gasp, “I just found out I was doing this like ten minutes ago.”

Luke breaks his desolate stare out the window to glance at his tutor and instantly, he feels the crushing weight of shame bear down on him tenfold. It would have been one thing to have a total stranger be his tutor, someone Luke could avoid looking at in the hallways and never speak to again, but he knows this girl. More importantly, he’s thought she was cute for at least the last four years.

This is the worst case scenario, then. Y/N L/N is smart, she’s pretty, and judging by the fact that Luke always sees her in a group of friends laughing at her jokes, she’s funny, too. Definitely someone Luke would want to impress through gigs or shows instead of, say, his crumbling English grades.

“I’m Y/N,” she says, and Luke realizes that she’s probably been waiting for him to say something. Great, he can’t even introduce himself properly.

“Luke,” he answers, “but you probably knew that already.”

Y/N laughs, and judging by the slightly manic tone behind it, she’s just about as composed about the whole thing as he is. That makes him settle slightly in his chair, lowering his guard. “I was told that I would be tutoring you when I was trying to leave class. Ms. Brown pulled me aside when the bell rang and told me about it.”

“That makes two of us,” Luke grumbles.

The corners of Y/N’s lips quirk up before she manages to tamp them down again, and if Luke weren’t totally out of his mind, he might even say that Y/N has the same attitude towards their English teacher as he does. That would certainly make this whole tutoring experience a lot more interesting.

“So,” she says, clearing her throat in an attempt to sound official, “you wanted to talk about essay pointers, right?”

Luke starts to say something about how he didn’t want any of this, actually, but Y/N arches a brow and he relents. “Yeah, essay stuff. The last one didn’t go over too hot.”

Y/N tilts her head to the side, contemplating this. “Did you agree with her grading?”

“Yeah,” Luke admits, “she wasn’t wrong to mark me down, I kind of did it the night before in one sitting.”

Y/N frowns. “Really? Why’d you put it off so long? I thought you liked writing. Whenever I see you, you’re always jotting something down in that notebook of yours.”

Luke grins. “You’ve been watching me? That’s creepy, you know.” He’s obviously holding back a laugh, though, so the comment has no trace of a barb.

Y/N rolls her eyes, although her face looks a little hot at the moment. “Just answer the question.”

“Alright,” he says, hands raised in mock surrender, “you’re right, I do like writing.”

“Then why wait until the last minute to do the essay? I mean, I get not having a ton of time to work on assignments, but if you really do enjoy writing, it shouldn’t be all that bad, right?”

Luke groans. “ This is different. It’s not fun writing,” he tries to excuse himself.

It sounds bad even to him. Already, Luke can see how this is going to play out– she’ll laugh at him, maybe, say that someone who just got a grade like him can’t possibly be thinking about writing and fun in any way at all. She doesn’t, though. Instead, she nods and smiles at him. A real smile. Not mocking in any way.

“What is fun writing, then?” She asks.

Luke blinks in surprise. “Well, writing songs is fun, I guess,” he stammers, “stuff that actually matters, you know? All these essays are the exact same, but songs are all different. That’s why I care about them and not some pointless paper.”

Y/N nods. “That makes sense to me. So you release music, right?”

Luke isn’t sure where she’s going with this, but he’s perfectly happy to talk about music instead of that offensive red scribble all over his paper, so he plays along. “Yeah, me and my band. We try to, at least.”

“Have you ever gotten a review that bothered you? Not because they didn’t like it, but because they disliked your songs for the wrong reason? Like you had a whole story in mind for your album but the critics just ignored it?” She prompts him.

“Yeah,” Luke says, eyes widening with irritation, “Man, it’s so annoying. You go to all the trouble of writing out these ideas, and you make them have a really good meaning, too, and then it’s like they never read it at all. It makes me so mad sometimes, I want to write a column or something in response about how they totally missed my point.”

“Like, say, an argumentative essay about the real strengths of your chosen piece of writing?” Y/N says as casually as she can.

Luke’s about to argue and say that’s not like this at all, but on second thought, it is. It totally is. “Wait, you’re right. I never thought about it like that, but you’re right. Y/N L/N,” he decides on the spot, “I really like you.”

She grins back at him. “Luke Patterson, I like you too.”

That settles it for him. Luke had been annoyed at the thought of having to suffer through tutoring beforehand, but maybe he’ll be alright with it now. Y/N isn’t a part of the oppressive legion of teachers all conniving to make his life a living hell because he wants to be a musician instead of a doctor or a banker, she’s on his side. That makes it all better somehow.

And, unsurprisingly, it is better. Luke actually ends up having a really good time in his tutoring sessions with Y/N. They don’t feel like tutoring at all, more like a chance to hang out with a friend. They talk about Jane Austen and tell awesome jokes, read Shakespeare and spend more and more time together. Luke knows this is only a temporary thing until his grades get back up, but it’s too easy to forget that.

Until, one day, it isn’t. His English teacher hands back an essay with a bright red ‘A’ marked on the front, and tells him that she’s proud of all the progress he’s made so quickly. Instead of a sigh of relief, the only thing escaping Luke’s lips is a desolate sigh. After all, if Luke’s improved to this point, that kind of means his tutoring sessions will be over, right?

Y/N doesn’t know that, though. Y/N doesn’t have access to his grades. All she knows is what Luke tells her, and if informing her of his latest essay win means she’ll stop seeing him after school, why should Luke let slip a single syllable?

So, later that day, when Y/N asks him how the latest essay went, Luke shrugs and pretends to be disappointed. “I’d hoped for more,” he says, “she, uh, didn’t like my commentary.”

“Really?” Y/N questions, frowning slightly, “I thought you were really good at that.”

Luke’s eyes widen, caught in a lie. “Who knows with teachers, right?” He laughs weakly.

Y/N pretends to shudder. “I know, right? I feel like half of your grade is literally just how much she likes you. English classes are always so subjective.”

“Subjective?” Luke asks, grinning and propping his chin up on his hand, “Tell me about that.”

Y/N laughs. “Only if you promise we’ll talk Jane Eyre immediately afterwards. Immediately.”

“I so swear,” Luke intones, holding up his right hand with all the solemnity of a president being sworn into office.

Y/N swats him on the shoulder with her notebook, but she obliges, and maybe they don’t talk about Jane immediately. Maybe they laugh a little longer than usual. And maybe, just maybe, Luke thinks that he’s perfectly fine with obscuring the truth if it means he can have more of this when he needs it the most.

The truth, unfortunately, has a habit of making itself heard regardless of who is inclined to hide it. Luke comes into their usual study spot in the library one day to see Y/N waiting for him, not already in her seat like normal but standing tentatively at the side.

He frowns, slinging his backpack down on the ground and pulling up a chair. “Everything alright? You look like you’re about to run. If you’ve got something planned, we can do this another day.”

Y/N shakes her head slightly. “No, I’m free all day.”

Luke gestures towards the table. “Then sit down, my legs are getting tired just looking at you. We’ve got stuff to study, don’t we?”

“Well, that’s what I was going to ask about,” Y/N says, “Ms. Brown stopped me after class today, said she had someone else she wanted me to tutor. I said I was already booked with you and she was confused. Apparently you’ve been doing just fine for quite some time.”

Luke feels his breath catch in his throat. This is not how he’d wanted Y/N to find out. For what must be the hundredth time this year, Luke sends out a silent curse to all meddlesome English teachers.

“Yeah,” he says as carefully as he can, “I have, but only because of your expert tutoring. It’s like antibiotics, you know? You don’t stop taking ‘em when you start feeling better, only when the prescription is over.”

Y/N blinks at him in surprise. “What are you talking about?”

He runs a hand through his hair, trying not to feel like everything is slipping out of control in an instant. “It was a simile, sorry. A bad one. All I mean is that we don’t have to stop this just because I got a good grade or two.”

Y/N almost looks like she’s smiling, but that could just be Luke being delusional. “I thought you didn’t want to do tutoring.”

“I didn’t at the start, but you’re different. We’re cool. We are cool, right?” Luke starts rambling more and more with each passing second, but he can’t help it. He’s overthinking everything. What if he’s literally just been a tutee this whole time, and she doesn’t think they’re friends at all?

Y/N stares at him a second longer, then takes a seat at last. “Luke Patterson, are you telling me that you like my company so much that you’re willing to keep going to extra English practice just to see me?”

Luke can feel his face heating up, but he does his best to ignore it. “Well, when you put it that way, it sounds–” He still has a little bit of self control left, so he cuts himself off before he can make a truly terrible mistake.

Y/N catches him, though. “It sounds like what?”

“It sounds like I like you,” he admits, and Y/N’s smiling at him, so he decides to take the leap of faith and just do what he’s been wanting to do for quite some time. Since the start of this, actually. “And I do like you. I like you a lot. I might not need the tutoring anymore, but that doesn’t mean I want to stop seeing you. So what if we met up sometime soon? Not for English, for us.”

Luke decides that he likes Y/N’s smile more than anything. “Are you asking me out?” She says.

“I am,” he affirms. “Are you saying yes?”

“I am,” she repeats.

Suddenly, Luke feels like the luckiest kid of all. Maybe he does have to throw in a good word or two for meddlesome English teachers after all. Sometimes they have a way of connecting you with the best people in the world.

requested by @thatfangirl42, i hope you enjoy!

jatp tag list: @rogueanschel, @retvenkos, @callsign-scully, @lovesanimals0000, @amortensie

#luke patterson #luke patterson imagines #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson oneshot #jatp #jatp imagines #jatp x reader #jatp oneshot #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms imagines #julie and the phantoms x reader #julie and the phantoms oneshot #jatp luke #jatp luke imagines #jatp luke x reader #jatp luke oneshot

[rowenablade]

Okay. Okay. Okay.

I saw it coming. I hoped it wouldn’t go there, but I did see the writing on the wall. I feel safe to admit here that I’ve spent the past week or so prematurely grieving for Izzy. I’ve cried. I’m embarrassed to admit it but I have.

Was I hoping DJenks and Co would pull out something totally unexpected and subvert the payoff they were clearly setting up? Yes, of course. Did it hurt when that didn’t happen? Yes. But I don’t think any of the creative team on this show were trying to hurt me.

We should have gotten a longer season. Moments should have gotten more space to breathe. I absolutely agree with that and if there’s any villain in this story, it’s Max and the current era of streaming greed we’re in. All art is inevitably stained by the context in which it’s created. This is not new.

Perhaps I’m just old and sentimental, but I don’t have it in me to be angry. Stories that make me cry don’t make me angry. I get angry when stories make me feel nothing. I get angry at the shrink-wrapped Disney Marvel shows where I can’t remember a single goddamn plot point after absorbing a whole season. I get angry when I’m treated with contempt. I’m a Game of Thrones fandom refugee; believe me when I tell you that if I felt betrayed, I would admit it.

Here’s the thing. My theory is, this was always part of the plan. I’d bet good money that if you go way back to DJenks first outline of what this story was going to be, Izzy’s death was always at this point, to give Ed the turning point he needed. You can say Izzy is a person, not a narrative device, but that’s not really true. He’s not a person. He’s a character, and characters have their place in the narrative. My guess is Izzy’s place was always this.

What I think wasn’t planned? Was the blossoming of his character that we got. I think all the love that got poured into the character was thanks to Con, and the cast, and the fandom. And I think when the writer’s room was given this task of killing Izzy off, because that was always his fate, they moved heaven and earth to reassure us that they had grown to love him as much as we did. All those moments where he touches joy, where Con’s warmth and humor shine through? I don’t think those were planned from the beginning. I think Izzy’s death was, and that’s why for some, this hits a bitter note.

Was it done perfectly? No. Art is rarely perfect. I’ve never created anything I consider perfect. There’s always roads not taken, details missed, viewpoints that were too far into your peripheral vision for you to take in with more than a blurred glance. I’m grateful that the writers tried to soften the blow of Izzy’s death for us. I understand if you feel they failed, and that the failure makes it worse.

But I’m not angry.

I still love this show, and the fandom that’s sprung up around it. I’m going to write so much fic. I’m going to feel so many things. I’m feeling them right now, with us.

I’m here if anyone needs to talk. Let’s all try and be gentle with each other; we’re fragile. And that includes the cast and crew- vent here in our safe space (ship), but I really hope we don’t see the creators getting hate for, at worst, failing to create the art they wanted.

I invite you to grieve with me, but please do it gently. I’m fragile.

#our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd s2 spoilers #izzy hands #ofmd spoilers

[cursingtoji]

hi! I was wondering if you could to a part 2 of " Habits of the Heart " where y/n comes back really late from a mission and tengen and the wives were really worried and thought something bad had happened? I really loved it!!

continuation drabble from Habits of the Heart

Your first mission after returning to the fields was nothing but exhausting, your whole body hurt and you cursed yourself several times for not training more often during the time you stayed home.

“Are you leaving already?” Shinobu asked surprised when entering the room where you’re been resting since your arrival the night before.

“I have to,” you gave her an apologetic look as you finished adjusting your clothes, “Thanks for bandaging me up” you patted her shoulder on your way out only then realizing it was something Tengen does.

“They miss you, don’t they?” Shinobu asked.

“Well, I’ve been sending letters so they shouldn’t miss me so badly.”

In fact even when you arrived all bloodied and exhausted last night you forced yourself to write a letter informing them everything was fine, no limb was lost and you would probably be arriving tonight.

You said your farewells to the staff in the butterfly state knowing you would be back soon, and left with your few belongings, but you weren’t far when a crow found you, immediately giving some news about a boy in trouble trying to fight a demon way above his level.

You promised you would be home tonight, but—

“Show me the way.”

“It’s midnight already.”

“I know.”

“She should’ve arrived already.”

“I know.”

“What if something hap—“

“Suma, shut up” Makio shouted, not being able to listen to her wife ramblings anymore, they were starting to make her heart ache, but even worse, they made Tengen more stressed then he was.

“Maybe she left the butterfly state a little bit later than planned and will arrive in the morning” Hinatsuru said looking through the window.

“No, I asked Shinobu to inform me when she leaves, which was this morning” Tengen murmured, his wives sighed.

“I’ll write to her again” Hinatsuru got up from her sit, finding something to keep her busy.

The fighting took longer than you first thought, the young slayer was very hurt once you got there, and it was not just one of demon, most of them were gone already but you had to fight your way into the leader. At some point you realized you couldn’t kill him, so you let him scape, prioritizing your life and the boy’s instead.

You also had to make sure he was safe before leaving, so you stopped by a village nearby to be cared by a healer you knew.

“What about you, my dear?” the elderly lady asked after welcoming the bleeding boy in her establishment. Outside it started to snow, the fields were already white but the snow was not too deep yet, if you stayed it would be harder to find your way tomorrow.

“I have to go home now, don’t worry about me” you smiled at her, one hand on your ribs.

Thankfully you caught a ride in the back of a farmer’s wood wagon that would pass by the Uzui state.

Your face hurt, probably a couple ribs broken and burning wounds that would require treatment so it wouldn’t get infected.

Your mind went to Hinatsuru, she was always deeply concerned when any spouse was hurt, Makio had the job of changing Tengen’s bandages daily after a mission after Hinatsuru applied medicine on it.

I miss them so much.

You’ve been away from them for a whole month while on slayer duty, that’s the maximum amount of time you’ve spent separately since the marriage.

Your ride informed when you arrived at the closest spot he could leave you, jumping out of the wagon you hissed holding your ribs and thanking the man.

The Uzui state was a 20 minute walk up a hill, with so many injuries plus the thick snow on the ground you made halfway before starting to feel dizzy. The path in front of you got blurry, were you even in the right way?

“Tengen” you whispered your husband’s name, worrying about him, and hoping he could forgive you for being late. Your legs seemed to give up the task of supporting your body, your body leaned forward as you closed your eyes waiting to feel your face hit cold snow.

Instead you’ve hit a warm body.

“There you are” you heard his sweet voice, your eyes had trouble adjusting to focus on his face, Tengen removed his winter cloak, dropping it on your shoulders.

“Hello handsome” you smiled, “How did find you me?”

“Heard you calling me” he picked you up as easy as a little forest animal as you warned about your ribs, “I’ve been walking around the forest looking for you.”

“Sorry” you murmured in his chest, already feeling warmer as he walked slowly to your house.

“What happened, my love? You said you were fine in your last letter” you could feel his beautiful eyes upon your bruised face.

“Last minute call, I tried to help a younger slayer but…”

“But what? Did he die?”

“No! He’s being treated in a village, the healer said he will be fine, but… the demon escaped” your fist closed around the cloak. Tengen stopped walking.

“You’ve done as said, you put your life and his first” he realized.

“Yeah, but…”

“No, love, no buts, you did right, I’m proud of you” he adjusted you to kiss your forehead, “Missed you so much” he whispered. Your eyes watered and you took his face on your small injured hands.

“I love you, Tengen” you whispered back, giving his lips a soft but long peck since your lips also had a cut. He limited himself to squeeze your thigh to not hurt you any more, but all he wanted was to hug and kiss you so hard you would never think about leaving his side again.

#— beauty sleep hours 💤 #no major warnings #uzui tengen x reader #tengen x you #uzui x y/n #tengen x reader #demon slayer x reader

[ghostly-wisp]

MR. LOVERMAN, CHAPTER 1

[series masterlist] [chapter 2] [chapter 3]

in which, the newly divorced teacher across the hall from you is more charming than you expected.

“Hey, have you introduced yourself to the new guy?” Asks your co-worker, and best friend, Sam. The two of you sharing lunch in solidarity of your classroom. Most of the time, the lunch wave was spent between the two of you talking about crazy things students said or airing out problems either of you had with other co-workers. Today, it seemed like it was going to be about the new science teacher that everyone and their mom was obsessed with. 

Mr. Pascal transferred to your school just this year, replacing the old science teacher that retired the previous year. From what you understood from students, along with some teacher, he was an absolute heart throb. You were lucky enough to have your classroom across from his, so you’ve seen him a few times — but you never got a chance to actually speak to him yet. “No,” you reply. “I’ve been meaning to, though. Is he nice?” 

Sam nods, taking a bite of their salad while leaning back in the uncomfortable spinny-chair. “I thought so. We talked briefly, I asked him how long hes been teaching and why he moved here n’ such.” they hum, “I think I made him uncomfortable.”

“How would you have done that?” Sam for the most part, in front of other adults – lacks a certain filter, though you would still have expected longer before Sam would say something to make the new guy uncomfortable. “When I asked about why he moved here, he told me it was his recent divorce.. I think she cheated on him or something, he wasn’t excited to talk about it.” 

“Most people wouldn’t be,”

“Hey! In my defense, I thought he was just going to say the pay was higher or something! Not my wife left me!” after a moment of silence, Sam continues. “How haven’t you introduced yourself yet? He’s right across the hall from you.” To which you shrug, “I just haven’t had the time yet. Things are so busy, the year just started.” 

For the rest of the day, Sam’s words stick with you. Hes right across the hall, and you haven’t had the decency to even say hello to him. Though, you wonder if he was really bothered by it, maybe he would introduce himself to you by now.

The last five minutes before the bell rings is normally an unproductive time, students are packed up and standing by the door, so you never actually continue “bell-to-bell” teaching philosophy, it just doesn’t work out, and if you’re being fair, you’re far too tired at the end of the day too. “Miss,” one of your students says, breaking out of your concentration to the computer screen, you turn to see what the student might want, to your surprise, they only point to the teacher in your doorframe, Mr. Pascal. 

“Sorry to bother you,” He says, his voice is deeper than you imagined it to be. Catching you by surprise just a little bit, “I need to print some things, and I can’t quite get the grasp on how to work the one down the hall. Can you help me out?” 

The printer was a tricky thing, theres a card swipe, password, authorization and then how many you want printed. To anyone who doesn’t quite know how to work it – you had a difficult time when you first started. 

“Yeah, its a major pain in the–” you cut yourself off, realizing that you’re still in the presence of teenagers, and while “ass” is not really a “bad word” and they most definitely say worse things, you still have to watch your mouth. You stand and make your way out of the classroom, making sure you had your lanyard. “Have you sent the papers to the printer?” you ask, to which he nods. “It’s just not showing on the little screen thing.” 

The printer isn’t that far of a walk, but it feels like it was one hundred miles. Especially since the silence between you two. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” you say after the tension proved to be too much for you, “I’ve heard a lot about you.” The printer seems like its getting further away rather than closer. Though he chuckles at your comment, “Good things, I hope.” 

“You can say that.” 

Another chuckle, followed by “My name is Pedro, it’s very nice to meet you, officially.” 

You smile softly to him, as you get to the printer, finally. 

“Okay– swipe your card here, and then put in the code they gave you–the one on the back of your ID card.” He does as you say, and much to his relief, he finally saw the access granted. “The printers here are tricky, take a while to learn.” you laugh, watching him put in the number he needed, and listened to the printer whirl as it started to work. 

“At my old school, they just let us have printers in our room—I was very upset to learn that thats not allowed here. Unless you’re an art teacher.” 

“They don’t allow a lot of things, some teachers do it anyway. I keep a mini fridge hidden under my desk.” you laugh, “Sometimes, we’re no better than the students.” 

He hums, “I guess so. Though, it would be very hard for me to hide a printer under my desk.” to this, you nod. “I guess it would be.”

Hes a lot more attractive up close than when you’re standing across the hall from him, the grays in his beard compliment him nicely, which isn’t something that happens for most people very often. You also like his sense of style, the black button up paired with the dark blue tie, the dark dress pants with the slim belt he wore—you can’t deny that men who know how to dress themselves seem to be more attractive than most. You can see what everyone was saying, he was a heart throb. You can’t help but wonder, what kind of person would cheat on that. “Thank you so much,” he says, turning over to you. Its only now that you notice his tie is decorated with little planets and constellations. How appropriate for a science teacher. 

“Its no problem, let me know if you have any other problems, always happy to help.” 

“I’ll make sure to keep that in mind.”

“So,” Sam says, their voice is sing-songy, like they’re trying to hide something they’re clearly excited about. “I heard that you and Mr. Pascal have been spending a lot of time together between classes, you’re not trying to replace me, are you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you laugh, grabbing a water from your mini fridge. “He’s new, he’s just needed help with a few things and I’m right across the hall.”

“Thats not what Jenny said!” Their tone is still playful, though they’re pointing their finger to you, accusatory. “Jenny doesn’t know me,” you respond. “She said we were dating when I first started here!” 

“Fair point.” Sam shifts in their chair, “So you haven’t been hanging out with him?”

“Well, not between classes, but I occasionally go into his classroom to help him with websites and such.” your smile is tight, you didn’t realize just how often you two had been sharing time in his classroom the past few weeks. “He’s really sweet, you know. I get why the students like him.”

“They like him because hes good looking.” Sam replies, you raise your hands, “I said what I said.”

Sam lets out a laugh, “So you’ve fallen into the ongoing list of people captivated by this man?” they ask, as if they weren’t pretty high on the list themselves. “Not that I’m one to talk.”

You shrug, “I dunno if I’d say I’m captivated. But I can admit hes very good looking,” if anyone was a winner of the genetic lottery – it was Florence Pugh and Mr. Pascal. “This is highly inappropriate talk for work,”  

Pedro was newly divorced, surely, the last thing on his mind would be the younger english teacher across the hall from him, right? Thats what you stuck to telling yourself. Every time you hovered over his chair while pointing out how to work the teacher-portal to the grading site or how you thought he was looking at you in the break room during quick conversations, even if he was looking for a relationship – there were plenty of single teachers closer to his age he would be more interested in. Like Jenny, who seemed to ruin your small moments in his room. 

“Thank you so much, Y/N. Seriously, I would be lost without you.” Pedro huffs, looking up to you, your triumphant smile evident, after many explanations and pointing, you finally taught him how to set up his smartboard screen to be different than his computer screen. “You flatter me, Pedro.” you tease. Going to take a seat back in the chair you had pulled up earlier. He smiles his normal soft, heart-warming smile – “So uh, I’ve been thinking –” 

“Ms. L/N!” Jens voice comes in, she sounds happy to see you, but anyone knew that was forced. As much as teachers are forced to come across as one big happy tight-knit family in front of students and parents, if you throw in 100 something people together, not everyone is going to get along. This just happens to be the case for you and Jen, or Jenny — luckily for you, she teaches art downstairs. So you rarely have to interact, but shes been spending a lot more time upstairs as of late. Unfortunate for you. “It’s so funny that I caught you here, I was just looking for you in your room. One of my students was talking about some assignment you posted, they got confused about it n’ I told them to talk to you, I had to talk to Mr. Pascal, so I walked with them up here, figured when you weren’t in your room this is where you’d be.” 

“Thanks, Jen.” you reply, slowly standing up, your attention turns back to Pedro, who seems upset that you’re leaving before he could finish what he had to say. “Hold that thought for me, okay?” he only nods in response, watching you walk out the door. It's too bad, too, he should really learn to close his classroom door whenever you come by, perhaps this way there would be less distraction, and less of Jenny.

TAGLIST

@djarinsstuff

#pedro pascal #x reader #reader insert #hot for teacher #ghostly wisp #pedro pascal x reader #fem reader #female reader #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader insert #the last of us #tlou series #game of thrones #oberyn martell #narcos #javier pena #the mandalorian

[wheredafandomat]

For Better or For Worse

Chapter 4 Next Chapter Series masterlist

18+ | this fic will contain adult themes, smut, swearing, angst - I’ll continue to update. Please be aware that there may be triggering themes in future - italics = flashback

Walking towards your door, Loki felt a strange wave of anxiety. He wasn’t sure why. He wondered if it was because of his interaction with Rose, or the picture he had found or whether the sound of him being referred to as daddy stirred something within him, especially considering he was on his way to you. You. Maybe it was the prospect of seeing you again after his flashback earlier on in the garden that left him feeling out of sorts. He could practically feel it, the feeling of your lips against his. You were both so perfect together, written in the stars as he would usually say but things were different now, tarnished. He licked his lips, the memory of yours against his feeling cold now. When he reached your door, he took a deep breath before knocking it.

“Come in.” You called, stepping out of the en-suite, securing your towel around yourself.

Opening the door, Loki had to bite down a gasp at the sight of you stepping out of the bathroom, wet hair dripping onto your shoulders as you looked at him expectantly. His mouth suddenly felt dry as a plethora of memories shrouded him before his cruel mind decided to focus on one.

“What?” You questioned with a small giggle, tightening the towel around you as Loki stood ogling you.

“You look beautiful.” He began to smile.

“Stop it” you chuckled “I spent the morning throwing up, you should find me far from beautiful.” You grinned, making grabby hands as he stepped towards you.

“Still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” He opined, pressing his lips to yours. You tilted your head, kissing him back as you stood on your tiptoes slightly, Lokis hand finding your lower back. You deepened the kiss, body flush against Lokis as his tongue explored your mouth. His hands roamed over your body, fingers unfastening the towel before it fell, pooling around your ankles. He pulled your body closer to his, kisses turning sloppier as his cock hardened.

“What are you gonna do hmm?” You teased, palming his clothed erection “show me how beautiful I am?”

“Oh darling, I’m going to do a lot more than that.” He smirked before guiding you towards the bed.

He had hoped to take his time with you, really enjoy you but after your insistent begging, he finally decided to fuck you. You dug your nails into his back as he bottomed out, fucking into you slowly as your eyes fell closed. Gradually he increased his pace, rolling his hips against yours until you were practically screaming his name.

“Yes, yes, yes!” You moaned as Loki continued thrusting into you “fuckk loki, yes daddy.” You babbled incoherently.

Hearing the moniker, Loki bared his teeth, moving faster as he chased his release. Fuck, you were beautiful.

“Loki?” You questioned, Loki standing as he looked at you, slightly zoned out.

“Yeah, sorry, here.” He offered, clearing his throat as he gestured to the clothes in his hand.

“You’re allowed in you know.” You spoke, looking at him suspiciously.

Cautiously Loki stepped in further as if the room was protected by some sort of force field. He begged himself to forget the memories that tried to overcome him again as his eyes fitted around the room. It was useless, they grew more vivid. He didn’t come here often, the last time was when he sat on the bed and decided to confront the photo album, looking through it slowly as he remembered. Forget it Loki he scolded himself, placing the clothes on the bed when he noticed you take a step towards him.

You looked at the clothes skeptically before you spoke.

“Why are you being so nice all of a sudden?” You queried, you were confused.

“I’m not” Loki stated, squaring his shoulders as he came back to his senses, you ruined things “you can stay, no longer than a few more days and try not to slip on your way out.”

“Sir yes sir.” You mock saluted, looking into his eyes as he looked at yours before he turned to leave, you calling him back.

“Loki.”

“Loki.”

“Yes y/n.”

“Yes love.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For what.”

“For this.” you smiled, touching your stomach.

“For these.” You answered, holding up the clothes.

“Of course.” He nodded curtly, trying to forget the haunting memories as he left, walking back to his own room, to Rose.

“Come back to your senses baby, ready to have some fun?” Rose grinned, laying against the bed unclad.

Loki took her in, unable to deny how amorous he felt after the rather raunchy memory of you both. It was wrong, he knew that, but Rose was offering herself and he couldn’t exactly knock your door again and fuck you so he undid his belt before stepping towards her. He wouldn’t lay with her but he could relieve himself another way.

“Are you going to swallow like a good girl?”

After getting changed into the clothes Loki brought, the bottoms too loose and the top too tight, you made your way out of the room feeling peckish. You walked down the hallway, approaching the stairs before the sight of Rose walking towards you caught your attention. You smiled at her, hoping to escape her.

“You were obviously lying.” She called out.

“What?”

“When you said Loki had a problem in the bedroom department” she explained “he just saw to me properly.”

“Nice.” You smiled awkwardly, unsure how to react and figuring she was lying considering he was just in your room around ten minutes ago. Whenever Loki used to bed you, you’d be unable to walk after and he certainly took longer than ten minutes, well, apart from that one time.

“It was you, you were the problem.” She ranted.

“Okay.” You answered, not wanting a confrontation as you walked down the stairs confused by her outburst, a smile replacing your confused expression when you saw Thor walking up.

“Hello pretty, happy you see you’re still here.” He simpered. Rose stiffened watching the interaction. “She giving you trouble?” He gestured to Rose as he asked you.

“No. Nothing I can’t handle.” You winked, Thor returning the action before his eyes met Roses. She was still stiff with anger. Seething. She didn’t like you, you were ruining things.

Loki washed his hands, drying them before coming back out into the bedroom, eyes settling on the bed, sheets slightly creased. He grimaced as he heard Roses voice, although it was muffled, he knew she was talking to you. He took the picture out of his pocket, finger running over the glossy paper again as he thought about what could have been, what should have been until it hurt. He took a steadying breath, blinking away any traces of sadness before it was all replaced by anger, the sound of his brothers voice ringing in his ears. He pocketed the picture before exiting the room, clearing his throat as he saw Thor talking to Rose. They jumped apart, the sound of Lokis presence startling them.

“Hello baby.” Rose smiled, stepping towards Loki.

“Brother.” Loki spoke, ignoring Rose as he narrowed his gaze at Thor.

“Loki.” Thor answered before excusing himself.

“Dinner, my treat.” Loki tried to smile, turning to Rose who watched Thor with an unreadable expression as he departed.

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@michelleleewise @ladymischief11 @vickie5446 @12-pm-510 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @somewiseguy @xorpsbane @wolfsmom1 @huntress-artemiss @kikster606 @ozymdias @crimson25 @bunny24sstuff @dillie60 @mcufan72 @lokisgoodgirl @mochie85 @lokiprompts @fictive-sl0th @peaches1958 @plokis @eyesbluelikethetitanic @blog-the-lilly @lovingchoices14

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fanfic #loki (marvel) #oc fiction #loki fanfiction #loki smut #loki x y/n #loki x you #loki imagines #loki imagine #loki x you smut #loki x you angst #thor x you #loki laufeyson x female reader

[somebodycallhr]

Good morning

Steve and Eddie are awkward no doubt. For both of them in their respective ways it’s their first *real* relationship, that actually means something. Between a nervous Eddie unused to any endearing touch or simple kindness, and Steve who’s not sure how to have a relationship with a man trying desperately to find his role to fill. They’ve both heard all their lives exactly who they’re supposed to be and trying to find a way to be happy as themselves is very difficult. And despite all this trouble Eddie is still healing his wounds still fresh, everything is moving fast and chaotically but somehow in a good way.

So here they find themselves at the kitchen table Eddie waiting impatiently for coffee to brew. Talking and laughing. Steve spent the night again, he spends many nights with Eddie now while he dotes and tells his boyfriend he’s just enjoying their alone time he can’t stand the thought of something happening to Eddie especially without him there. He can’t endure that again.

They’re so alike the two of them, but strikingly different in one major way. Eddie is new to love and partnership, he’s never had a boyfriend longer than a month or two and even then he didn’t really care much about them. Steve however falls so quickly, so desperate to love and be loved. They can’t quite agree on timing. Eddie is afraid that he’ll care to much and lose Steve one way or another. Steve already cares and is terrified of losing another person he loves. They’ve both seen to much pain and lost far to many

The only thing that distracts them from their unending anxieties is each other. They have to hold dearly the simple moments in order to keep calm. Most people wouldn’t call their relationship perfect hell even healthy but it’s new and they’re learning. Eventually they’ll learn how to express themselves to each other, to get the timing right.

The Simple memories are the most important, like now. Steve watches this beautiful boy in front of him, his eyes dreary and hair messy. Pouring himself a cup of black coffee and complaining about how early it is. Steve wants nothing more than to give this boy everything in the world, he wants everyone else to see how amazing and crazy and funny and adorable this boy is. If everyone saw Eddie through Steve’s eyes there’d never be a doubt about him, no one would be picketing and protesting his release. No one would sneer at him for his sexuality or hobbies, everyone would hold this boy with gentle hands and kind eyes, like Steve does.

“Enjoying the show sweetheart.” Eddie says with a sarcastic smile draped across his lips. He saunters back to the table truly putting on a show. There’s no pain in the world that could break Steve’s joy watching his boyfriend be himself, being silly and happy despite the pain he’s in. Eddie is so strong, so brave. “Of course.” He purrs back as Eddie sits on the table in front of him. Eddie whimpers at the movement immediately stopping their flirting.

“Are you alright? What do you need?” Steve’s asks gently brushing his fingers across the bandages covering Eddie’s legs, the ones he’s guessing are hurting. “I’m alright, I’ve had worse. And besides they’re mostly healed” Eddie says though Steve would disagree three weeks isn’t enough time to heal his deep wounds. “Stay here I’ll grab your pain meds.” Steve says the anxiety still reaching his bones, even if he knows everyone is okay he still worries every day about Dustin Eddie Wayne he spends so much time worrying about and taking care of the people he loves.

Steve finds Eddie’s medicines and rushes them back to the kitchen and Eddie waiting patiently. “There’s my pretty boy, thought ya might’ve gotten lost.” Eddie purrs again eliciting a small love sick sigh from steve.

Eddie takes his meds with a swig of his dark coffee, and wraps his arms around steve in front of him, the kitchen counter holds him almost equal height with steve, who starts gently running his hands through Eddie’s hair. “I love your hair.” Steve mumbles quietly and presses a kiss on Eddie’s forehead. “Hmm maybe I’m the pretty boy here then.” Eddie teases with a smirk. “You’re my hoe.” Steve says grinning brightly as Eddie laughs. “I ain’t a hoe!” He says taking another sip from his coffee to hide his small blush and hush his laughter. “I know baby.” Steve leans in closer to Eddie pausing for permission before pressing their lips together, he kisses Eddie with as much passion and he feels burning inside him, deeply but gently caressing his leg and holding a hand on the back of Eddie’s neck.

After a moment Steve breaks looking to the side quickly and unhappy expression spread across his face. “What’s wrong?” A mildly panicked Eddie asks before Steve’s turns to face him again. “I can’t stand black coffee.” Steve says with a small amused smile. Without another word Eddie grabs the orange juice his boyfriend had been drinking and takes a gulp, before quickly pulling Steve back in for more.

They both can’t wait for Eddie to be *fully* healed.

———

The brain rot is here :)

#steddie #fluff #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #oneshot #ficlet #gay shit is my only source of dopamine

[amee-racle-ofmyown]

Warning: implied/referenced stalking

‘You’re wonderful. Flawless, even.’

‘Mmm, flawless is pushing it.’ 

Her blush wasn’t very noticeable, a light pinkish tint on her warm brown skin, barely illuminated in the garden’s dim lighting. But Ray saw everything. Every little detail, every slight reaction; his senses were keenly honed in on every manner of her presence. He had no doubt his face looked a little flushed too but that was alright. After all, why hide it? She already knew how his heart raced for her.

‘Is it?’

‘I’m not as perfect as you think, Ray. No one is.’

‘Well, you are to me.’

‘Ahh…’ she made a flustered sound and covered her face with her hands. Ray smiled, willing her to move them. Show me your face, he thought, and as if hearing his silent plea, she parted her small hands like curtains, peeking up at him through delicate fingers.

‘You know exactly what to say to flatter someone, huh?’ 

He gave a quiet little chuckle. ‘Oh, I don’t know… I suppose it just comes easily to me when it’s you.’ He took her hands, gently peeling them away from her face and watching how her eyes widened slightly at the gesture. ‘Every moment I spend near you, I just can’t help but be aware of every single thing I like about you. Complimenting you feels like the most natural thing in the world.’ 

She flushed far more visibly at that. Ray laughed softly once more, his hands gently squeezing hers, preventing her from hiding behind them. Oh, how he delighted in those flaring cheeks. He wanted nothing more than to cup her face and gaze into those eyes, stroking her soft skin with his thumbs and muttering endless sweet praise to see just how red she would go. And he would mean every word. 

‘Um, th-thank you… I like you a lot too, Ray. Just- um- you haven’t known me for very long-’

I’ve known you for so much longer than you think… He wouldn’t dare utter such a thought out loud, however. Ray didn’t know how she would take it. She couldn’t know how many months he’d spent watching, waiting. Yearning. Would she be upset if she knew? Scared, even? Of course, he’d only ever done so with good intentions but what if she didn’t like it? What would she think of him? Would she call him a creep? Would she think him crazy if she knew exactly to what lengths he would go to keep her safe and in the palm of his hands? Would she try to run away? No, he couldn’t take that chance. He didn’t even want to even think about it.

‘I’m sure there’ll be all kinds of things you don’t like about me, to be honest. I don’t understand why you already seemed to like me so much so soon after meeting me for the first time...’

The girl’s words made him frown a little. Did she doubt his sincerity? Worse still, was it possible she was suspicious of him…?

She seemed to pick up on his concern, as she brought his hands to her chest and looked up at him, meeting his eyes with a shy but undeniably warm and reassuring smile, before she continued to speak.

‘What I mean is, I want to spend more time together, Ray. I want you to get to know me properly and I really want to know you. If you still like me so much after that… well, then we can keep going from there.’ There was still a faint blush over her features as she smiled up at him. The crinkles beneath her twinkling eyes made him think of the gentle creases and overlapping folds of petals around the stem of a rose. 

Ray wasn’t entirely sure he understood what she meant, but she’d said she liked him and that she wanted to spend more time with him, so, that was what mattered most, right?

‘I… like the sound of that. And Princess, I don’t think you could do anything at all to make me dislike you. I would do anything for you, MC.’

#I cringed so hard writing this but I couldn't get the scenario out of my head #this is mirae btw! he still calls her mc at this point bc she hasn't told him her real name (mc is the nickname and username she uses) #obv he does know her name. this is ray we're talking about. but she doesn't know he knows lol #amee writes #mystic messenger #mysme #mysmes #mirae chon oc #my oc #mysme ray #saeran choi #saeran x cmc #saeran x oc #cw implied stalking #cw mentions of stalking

[legobiwan]

So this is part of a longer story I've been writing but I kind of want to post this here as it just poured from my brain this evening. This may be...somewhat out of character? I don't know, I'm playing with some ideas here. I have some very specific headcanons regarding Luigi and Mario's upbringing in a 1980s Italian-American section of Brooklyn (my guess would be Bensonhurst) and some of the concepts below reflect that.

Imagine, if you will, another post-SPM scenario where Luigi ups and leaves the Mushroom Kingdom a few weeks after the whole Chaos Heart debacle. Mario finds the following note on his desk the morning after Luigi runs away, folded underneath a small, mechanical Yoshi.

-----

Mario - 

There’s no easy way of saying this, so I guess I’m just going to come right out with it. I’m leaving the Mushroom Kingdom. Or, at this point, have left already, if you’re reading this instead of chasing me down the nearest warp pipe. And in case you’re thinking it (I know you are) - don’t. No, I didn’t use the one by the Toadetta Café, and no, I didn’t use your secret passageway near the Royal Stables, either. Suffice it to say I carry more secrets than you, which include my own ways of getting in and out of the Peach’s realm. (Do you honestly think I would travel the same path twice back to the Evershade Valley when King Boo was on my trail? But maybe you would have. Yeah, you probably would - just saunter right up the well-traveled road, same pipe, same time, same place, daring any ghost to show their face. But you know I’ve never been as brave as you).

It’s not your fault. I know you don’t believe me, but please try to. Whatever it is, it’s not your fault. I’d like to say it’s not mine, either, but the next few weeks, few months will reveal the truth of that statement. 

Don’t think I haven’t seen the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention. How your entire face just collapses, how your fingers move back and forth like you’ve still got that old rosary from Saint Michael’s in your hands. I don’t know entirely where this guilt is coming from but...maybe you can say a few Hail Marys tonight? Can't hurt. It might even make you feel better. (Hell, if it gets you to stop wearing your hair shirt all the time, I’ll start saying the damned liturgy myself! And you know how I feel about that).

I won’t be gone forever. Well, I hope I won’t, at least. But what I said last night is still true - I’m not the same person I was before the Chaos Heart, before Mr. L, before…everything that happened. Or what I'm pretty sure happened. I know there’s more to the story, more than what you and Peach and Bowser recounted in your short, clinical descriptions. I know there’s more because I can feel it - not the memories of exact actions, but the imprints of emotions - soft indentations of hatred and malice and a terrible pettiness made all the worse by how familiar it feels.

Do you think it’s really gone, Mario? If he’s really gone? They said the Light Prognosticus was only meant to counteract the Dark, that the Chaos Heart was banished, not destroyed. I’ve spent hours looking in the mirror (no, I’m not that vain), my face pressed into the glass, pulling my eyes open as far as I can, skin and tissue stretching to the point of pain. They’re different now, my eyes, I know you’ve seen that. You always notice the little details, make observations, file away certain specks of information for the future. You’re more cerebral than you’d ever like to let on, bro, but don’t worry - I won’t spoil your secret.

It’s just that…I just can’t shake the idea, the intuition that this isn’t over, that there’s something inside me that’s waiting, that’s gestating in all the little crevices between the atoms in my gut and I can’t risk it. I can’t risk endangering the Mushroom Kingdom, the Mushroom People, Princess Peach, can’t risk Daisy or Peasley, or (God help me for saying this) even E. Gadd and his ethically dubious experiments. 

Most of all, though, I can’t risk endangering you. Not again. Never again. Not like that. 

So, a search for answers. A quest, a mission. (Not an adventure. Not anything even close. It’s only an adventure if you’re with me, you know).

A reckoning, maybe.

I hope I find what I’m looking for. I’m not even sure what I’m looking for, but some movement forward has to be better than sitting around the castle picking at battle scars, right? (It’s not your fault. I know you don’t talk about it, but we fought, that much I’m certain of. Why else would you avoid the topic so thoroughly? What else would I, a brainwashed minion of a man bent on triggering the apocalypse, be sent to do? Anyway, the gigantic robot was kind of a giveaway and Bowser made certain we all heard about that).

I guess that leads me into my last thought. 

Mario, I need a favor from you. A promise. Just one thing, and it’s so simple but I know you’ll make it complicated when it’s really not.

If this goes…wrong, somehow. If the Chaos Heart overtakes me again, if…he digs his dirty, spindly fingers into my brain...

If for any reason I come back…bad…

You’ve got to end it. For everyone’s sake (including my own).

(Honestly, I’m a little surprised you didn’t before. I was trying to push along the end of the world, big bro. The Saints would have and will probably forgive you for that one). 

Don’t try and save me. I’m not even sure I could be saved, not a second time. It’s just like Sister Catherine said in middle school, remember? “Luigi’s strayed beyond the grasp of our Lord.” Never liked that old crone. I guess throwing the Good Book out a window didn’t do me any favors in her eyes (or anyone watching from above, I suppose). But it’s true, in a way. I think I’ve strayed beyond the light of good, have strayed past the forest line and into the shadows. 

I think I may have been there all along. 

I love you, bro. I always will. 

Your fratellino,

Luigi

#hello there #writing #the eternal struggle #luigi #mario #spm #fic #kind of #i don't even know what this is why am i so ANGSTY about this stupid video game? #anyway that was fun now it's time to go to gym and lesson prep for tomorrow #i do apologize AGAIN to those of you waiting on star wars fic updates #my brain has latched onto this like the floor sprout latched onto...okay I'm done trying to make shitty dimentio metaphors #luigi brain rot #at least i'm writing again??? #ANYWAY LATER TUMBLR

[thenightlymirror]

I feel like the final straw of not being able to speak to anyone would be if I stopped being able to write here. It would be like forgetting how to talk to myself.

I feel it a bit now. I know a big part is that my boss followed me on here years ago, but I’m not sure if she reads any of this or not? Lol. I don’t think she does. I guess it wouldn’t matter.

The same thing happened about 10 years ago when the people I worked with at the grocery store found my blog. Haha. Oh no. That ended up being fine. You just find ways over time to explore how to express feelings you can’t say in different ways. Philosophy is vague posting, essentially. You just take it up a level of abstraction. I’ve always been good at that. I’m far worse at just saying what I mean.

Harper took the weekend off to see the eclipse back home, so, I had to work. If you told me that in 2017, I’d have leapt off a bridge with a concrete block tied around my ankle. I said, immediately, several times, Well I’m just calling off then. But, I have no money. Another coworker was taking his family down to Indianapolis, but he ditched me.

I broke into the cemetery at night to take some supplies and make some eclipse viewers. I got the text at 5:30am that I had been ditched. I asked my boss if I could just take a half day, and she said I HAD to come in, which of course the correct response would be to just say “Yeah, I’m sick. Good luck today!” But I juggled driving, getting stuck in traffic, my car breaking down, clouds, terrorist attacks, and just went to work.

Now, that said, it was a beautiful blue sky’d day. Hard to imagine it any clearer. I took lunch at 1:20 and spent the next hour driving around the cemetery observing the eclipse. Found some people sitting by the swan lakes and they let me borrow their eclipse glasses and I showed them my shoebox viewer. The changes in the sunlight on the cemetery were amazing. A wheezing twilight like the battery was going out on the sun. A few minutes after totality, the night birds started singing, just in time for the sun to start coming back, which caused a ruckus of confused birds in the marshy lagoons to start croaking up.

It was an experience, and I enjoyed it a lot. I’m trying to repress feeling like my entire life is a failure. It reminds me of missing Godspeed You Black Emperor on my 21st birthday, the day the Iraq war began. Negative punctuation marks on an empty life. A huge waste from start to finish.

But it would be a shame if I could no longer express myself anywhere. I don’t think matters of survival are necessarily narcissism. Why is it always so important to break me down?

[quietly-by-myself]

The Dark Side of the Sun: Chapter 1

Masterlist

There's a significant cliffhanger, but I'll pick up with the last scene next chapter.

CW: intimate whumper (more later than right now), non-human whumper (fae creature), non-human caretaker (fae creature), whumper turned whumpee, whumpee turned caretaker, reluctant caretaker, branding, inter-species tension (human, non-human, and ex-human) captivity, slavery/forced servitude, defiant whumpee, alcohol, manipulation, past trauma/whump, dislocated jaw, tuberculosis

---

“Do you know why you’re here before me, Cassius?”

The creature that stood before him was an ugly thing. Few of King Myndill’s kind remained pure, but King Myndill was a fearsome creature indeed. His wolverine amber eyes marked by the blackness of Taint never ceased to glow. His long, sabertooth-like teeth stood out, even when he took that regal, human form.

Cassius dared not face King Myndill’s true form. Even just the silhouette of a large wolf could send villages fleeing in fear - for good reason too. The creature brought destruction wherever his dirtied paws found purchase.

“You’re a fucking revenge-driven bastard, Myndill. I know you hate me and my kind. What, am I just your latest revenge piece? I know how you are.”

Anger flashed in those charred eyes of his. “Watch your fucking mouth, Cassius.”

The guards who were holding his arms down quickly pushed Cassius to the floor, painfully so. It took everything in Cassius not to give Myndill the satisfaction of a cry.

“I have much worse in mind for you than ‘revenge,’ dear Cassius.” King Myndill used the edge of his boot to tilt Cassius’ chin up in his direction. “You hate my kind. I know that well.”

“Who wouldn’t hate your kind? You were punished by the Judge for what you did. You’re all rotten.”

Myndill grinned wildly. “Most of us are here for very similar reasons to what you’ve done to others, Cassius. You’re just lucky.” Myndill used his boot to twist Cassius’ head to the side. Then, his boot came crashing down on Cassius’ jaw. If his jaw hadn’t immediately fallen out of place, Cassius might’ve screamed. “Don’t forget who owns your life now.”

Cassius let out a stifled groan. He couldn’t move his jaw. It was an injury easily fixed with alchemy, but that didn’t take away the bone of the moment.

“I don’t plan on ever letting you go, Cassius. You know, after a certain time, everyone’s going to assume that I’ve killed you. I don’t have such a mercyful fate in mind for the likes of you.”

Cassius let out a small growl as he narrowed his eyes at the King of the Tainted. He tired already of the creature’s games. It was all overdone hysterics anyway. Though Myndill was a fearsome creature, many of the other Tainted could overthrow him easily. 

At least, that’s what Cassius thought from his research. The Tainted were all fearsomely powerful creatures. Every specimen he got his hands on seemed to be more and more powerful. He wondered how this King even stayed in power. Most would be afraid, he thought. However, the King hadn’t attacked any villages in the past hundred years on his own. That, to Cassius, was just a show of weakness and low self-esteem.

“It’ll be so much fun to make you beg at my feet for scraps of that precious food you humans find yourself needing oh so often.”

Cassius doubted that Myndill would ever make him beg for anything.

“You’ll regret ever crossing one of us, dear Cassius. You’ll regret ever insulting you. You’ll be one of the toys I’ll enjoy breaking the most. I might even keep you longer. You’ll last longer after all.”

That much was true, at least. Cassius had a couple hundred years left on Earth. However, he never planned on spending them with a sick bastard like Myndill.

---

Screams soon filled the halls of the palace. Hakon was far used to it after fifty years as a Tainted. He was lucky enough to have come under the protection and kindness of the King. Somehow, those fifty years he’d spent in that Tainted version of his human body were the best of his life.

Today, though, something felt different. He was more acute to emotions now as a Tainted. He never quite got used to it, hearing and feeling everything around him. He found it gave him headaches and overload frequently when he was in crowds. The King had assured him that it was because he was only recently taken over by Taint. 

Hakon begged to differ.

Memories of his time as a human came back to him easily when he heard those screams.

“Hakon?”

The Tainted next to him - a gentle fellow that Hakon was close to calling a friend - looked him in the eyes. “Are you okay?”

Hakon shook his head. “I thought I recognized the voice of His Majesty’s new toy.”

His friend was eerily quiet. Hakon’s stomach dropped.

“You probably do, Hakon.”

Hakon looked at his friend in confusion. Fear swarmed in his mind. “N-none of the humans I knew are alive anymore. If they are, they’re too old for His Majesty’s tastes in toys.”

His friend shook his head. “I’ll let His Majesty tell you himself. He requested to see you before you go about your regular duties for today.”

“What? You know!? Tell me! Tell me before I see him.” He couldn’t hide the panic from his voice.

“I can’t disobey His Majesty’s orders, Hakon. You should see him as soon as you can, if you’re so anxious.”

Hakon nodded. He forced himself to take a deep breath, focusing on his heart beating in his chest. Once he’d focused his entire mind on his heart, his lungs seemed to fill more. His heart began to still. 

“Thank you. I’ll see you soon.” Hakon gave his friend a small smile, then went to his rooms to put on the necklace that his King had given him all those years ago.

---

King Myndill’s blood sang with wine and lust as he awaited Hakon’s arrival on his throne. He wasn’t quite deep in his cups yet, but he was certainly going to be. Whether because of celebration of Cassius’ capture or because he genuinely enjoyed the bottle he found himself drinking, Myndill didn’t know. He wasn’t sure he cared either.

Hakon came quickly once that friend of his had passed along the message. He came dressed in ceremonial robes, a scarf tied over his eyes. On his neck, he bore the necklace he was always polite enough to wear when around Myndill.

Indeed, Hakon was a treasure as the Chaplain of the palace. Few Tainted had the magic he did. He needed not sight nor smell to know where he was. His mind’s eye was acute enough to guide him.

Not too many paces forward or too many back, Hakon fell to his knees in a bow to his King. Myndill smiled. A valuable asset, indeed.

“You may rise, Hakon.”

Hakon stood and bowed at the waist. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Myndill didn’t need Hakon’s magic to know that the young Tainted had a grave question on his mind. “What is it, Hakon? You may speak freely.”

A look of surprise washed over Hakon’s face. “Your Grace, I’ve had the feeling that I might know your new toy. Something tells me who he is and… I recognize his screams. His voice.”

Myndill smiled. He hadn’t told Hakon about Cassius’ presence purposefully to test the strength of his magic. Myndill always had a sense that Hakon had an acuity that other Western-bound souls didn’t have.

“Who did you think it might be?”

Hakon looked hesitant, afraid almost. It wasn’t unusual with the Tainted, for them to have been hurt by others before. Few were the Tainted whose sin was entirely random. Myndill was used to it by now.

“All is well, Hakon. You may speak to me. You’re a valuable part of the palace. You don’t have to fear like you did when you were human.”

Something flashed on that gentle skin of Hakon’s. “I thought it might be Cassius. The one who…”

Hakon struggled on the words, so Myndill held his hand up.

“I understand, Hakon,” Myndill soothed. “Indeed, I’ve taken Cassius as my new toy. He’ll be fun to break. Imagine - the one who’s hurt us for the past hundred years groveling at our knees for scraps of food. It’ll be a long time before I get there with him. The day it comes, though, will be glorious.”

A small smile parted Hakon’s lips. The idea pleased him, too.

“He’s a bastard. He deserves everything he has coming at him, Your Majesty.”

Myndill laughed a hearty laugh as he looked at Hakon. Despite his covered eyes, Hakon was able to meet his gaze. “He deserves every last piece of it. I had the guards start him off easy today - we branded him to ensure that if he escapes our territory, he’s returned immediately.”

Hakon’s smile faded a bit, turning into that shy smile of his early days at the palace.

“I know it’s a sensitive subject, my dear Hakon. It’s for his own good. He’d be killed instead of returned if he didn’t bear our mark.”

Hakon grimaced. “All the better. The world is better off without him, Your Highness.”

Myndill smiled a bit, lapping up that little bit of defiance he’d cultivated in Hakon like a thirsty dog would water.

“I understand your wish, Hakon. I think that seeing him break first will be the perfect punishment for what he’s done to us. Death would be a mercy for someone like him. He has two hundred years ahead of him. Plenty of time to make sure he suffers before he dies.”

Hakon nodded. “I am forever your loyal servant, My Lord.”

Myndill smiled and stood from his throne. He ruffled Hakon’s hair a bit. Admittedly, the boy was something of a son to him, even though such a relationship didn’t exist in Tainted society or the one he came from.

“I know you are, my dear. I couldn’t be more thankful to have you around here. You’re an invaluable asset to this Kingdom and very dear to me.” Myndill took a breath. “I imagine you’ll want to see him.”

Again, Hakon nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Myndill hummed. “I want you to walk there with someone you trust.” He held a finger up to shush the comment he was sure Hakon had. “I’m worried about how it’ll affect you to see the one who made you the way that you are. They don’t need to go into the room with him. They just need to wait outside for you and get you back to your rooms.”

It was one of those genuine, unselfish concerns that Myndill had. They were rare, but not as much with Hakon.

“I’ll survive. I’ve survived worse, Your Highness.”

“I know you have.” Myndill looked at the stained glass of his throne room. “I know you have, Hakon. You’re strong. Stronger than you know. If you need anything, you know that you can call on me, right?”

Hakon gave a small nod. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

Myndill smiled at him. “We’re keeping him in the dungeons. You’re welcome to come and go as you please. The guards all know who you are already.”

A smile crossed Hakon’s face. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Of course. Take good care of yourself. Make sure you have someone the first time. I also don’t mind if you touch him or anything. He’s yours as much as he is mine.”

“Thank you for your kindness, Your Majesty. I would like to go see him now.”

“Of course. Make sure you eat something tonight, too. You’re looking thin.”

Hakon chuckled and smiled. “I always look thin, Your Majesty. I had consumption as a human.”

“Then it’ll be easier to eat!”

The two laughed before Myndill gave Hakon a pat on the shoulder. “Take good care, my dear.”

---

The dungeons were a musty place. Cassius immediately hated it there, though he had more pressing issues.

Rage lit his mind every time the brand on his side ached from the rough handling of the guards. He wanted to punch them. He wanted to fight back.

He knew it was a stupid idea to do either, though, which is why they didn’t find a punch to their sides. The brand would limit his movement for days and his jaw was somewhat broken.

Once I’m alone, I need to see if I can fix my jaw.

Broken bones were surprisingly easy to fix with alchemy. They were all minerals, something that alchemy excelled at changing. Skin made of human flesh, on the other hand, was not easy to fix. It was too complex compared to the simplicity of bone cells.

Once the guards had dumped him on the mossy, slightly damp floor of the cell, Cassius wasted no time meditating. He couldn’t lose his focus. The most pressing matter was fixing his jaw. Then, I need to destroy those stupid motherfuckers.

Just as Cassius had gotten a feeling for the weather patterns in the area - a good pattern too, with lots of wind - he heard a familiar voice.

“Triple Onyx Cassius. I never expected to see you again, much less here of all places.”

Cassius immediately lost all his focus as he looked out into those familiar honey gold eyes, now lined with the black Taint of his kind.

“Elijah?”

The face of the Tainted before him changed. “I’m not Elijah anymore.” His eyes narrowed. “I’m Hakon now. After what you did.”

Cassius smiled a bit. “Hakon now, eh? Well, then, I see you’ve become one of my greatest successes if you’ve actually become one of the Tainted.”

His words only seem to twist that once-innocent face more. It hurt him more than he cared to admit to speak with a half-fixed jaw, but the anger emitting from the Tainted was worth every second of pain.

“Shut the fuck up. I’m here of my own decisions, not your stupid fucking experiments.”

That only seemed to make Cassius smile more.

---

Tags (open): @i-can-even-burn-salad, @whumpsday

Masterlist

#the dark side of the sun #whump #whump writing #king myndill #cassius #hakon #cw are above #whumper turned whumpee #whumpee turned caretaker #nonhuman whumper #nonhuman caretaker #human whumpee #defiant whumpee #whumblr #whumpblr #intimate whumper

[everyonewasabird]

Brickclub 5.8.2 “Other Backwards Steps”

Oh hurrah, it gets worse.

Cosette did not ask him any questions, was no longer astonished, no longer complained that she was cold, no longer talked of the drawing room, she avoided saying either Father or Monsieur Jean. She let him speak as he liked. She allowed herself to be called madame. Only she showed slightly less joy. She would have been sad, if sadness had been possible for her.

Probably she had had one of those conversations with Marius, in which the beloved man says what he pleases, explains nothing, and satisfies the beloved woman. The curiosity of lovers does not go very far beyond their love.

This. This is where I think Hugo starts to badly fuck up Les Miserables’ ending.

I was saying yesterday on Discord how utterly insulting Valjean’s view of Cosette is: he really believes that froufrou and luxuries are all she cares about, and that if he meets her out in a dark, ugly place, she’ll lose interest in him because she’s just that shallow. Obviously a lot of that is his depression talking, but... it is also how he views her.

And this chapter we learn that Hugo really isn’t much better.

I’ve been saying these last few chapters that Marius is meant to be horrible and mistaken, that this house and Gillenormand are meant to be the dangerous temptation that keeps the heroes from enlightenment and their true path, a la the Lotus Eaters or (per Pilf) the Junk Lady in Labyrinth who offers Sarah a false return to her comforting childhood. I stand by that: Marius has long acted as the Goofus to the Ideal Reader’s Gallant, and I think that’s still Hugo’s goal. We’re meant to want to shake sense into him in these chapters because we’re meant, once we put down the book, to go out and do better ourselves.

And then, Hugo entirely fucks it all up when it comes to Cosette. This is so utterly insulting, and it’s only going to get worse.

And the thing is--all the actions Hugo’s actually describing make perfect sense. She’s spent her life learning not to ask questions when things seem weird. She’s spent the last two days (TWO DAYS: this miserable marriage has been Day One--her father and Marius gang up on her and drive her out of the room to talk about “money” (her area of expertise), demonstrating her absolute powerlessness to sway either of them or make choices in her own life, Day Two--her father becomes cold and distant and refuses to acknowledge any further bond between them, utterly rejecting her and denying the only family tie she’s ever known. What the FUCK, how does the plot not revolve entirely around the gothic horror of what absolute misery her new life is??)--but anyway, she’s spent the last two days learning she’s trapped and powerless for the rest of her life and needs to make the best of it. Marius is, naturally, supporting Valjean in this mission of gaslighting her about how married women don’t need their fathers anymore. Whatever the fuck Marius said to her last night, what he clearly conveyed was that she doesn’t get to ask questions and her opinions and understanding of all this don’t matter. What is she going to DO? We’ve seen how all her last-ditch desperate efforts at conflict involve looking cute and sounding like she’s joking while she pleads and begs, because she has--probably not at all mistakenly--a deeply ingrained sense that looking adorable is the last shred of power she has in dealing with either of them. It’s the same way her mother acted like a good girl (with all the childish implications thereof) on her deathbed when they refused to bring Cosette in to her and refused to tell her why.

It’s horrific, it’s tragic, it’s despicable on the part of the men involved (and I have a lot of sympathy for Valjean, but I will note he was a key player in both situations) and worst of all, Hugo genuinely doesn’t seem to know what the fuck he wrote.

Like hell “the curiosity of lovers doesn’t go far beyond their love.” That blind fog is Marius’s problem, and it would probably continue to be his problem if he were in her shoes. Cosette’s problem is that she’s absolutely fucking powerless to fix any of the things that are wrong, and shutting up and accepting it is the only path that won’t make things worse.

So, over the coming weeks she gets used to what she can’t change, she copes instead of being destroyed by it because that’s always been who she is, and the book carries on like nothing much has happened to her at all.

#brickclub #lm 5.8.2

[professional-escapist-00]

I left my home because it couldn’t sustain my life for much longer. Being in that place was killing me. So I left, I went far away and now I’m pursuing the deepest desire of my soul. It’s a beautiful life in a beautiful city. I’m free, I’m healing, I’m learning to love again.

Yet not a day goes by that part of me doesn’t regret leaving like that. I left my known world and that safety. I lost so much when I stepped onto that plane, more than I was even aware of. I betrayed the hearts of those I loved most, and I lost them. Distance stretched the bonds I spent years desperately clinging to, and I think they’re about to snap. But as I was harshly reminded, I chose this. I fought through hell and back to get here. Every step I made was intentional and calculated, and brought me exactly where I intended. Every bit of suffering I’ve endured in this new life is part of the deal.

Do I have the right to mourn the loss that I created?

It feels like I’ve traded one thing for a worse thing, that I was surrounded by love and care. That I did have a happy life, a successful life. I have to remind myself that my parents didn’t show me love like they do now. My friends weren’t that attached, they don’t mourn a loss. They had each other before and they still do now. I was an outlier there as I feel I am here, the only difference now is there I had a decade to create an illusion that I wasn’t. I want to believe so badly that I was loved and wanted there in the way I convince myself of now. But it’s not true, those memories aren’t real, only false hopes covering the truth.

My biggest fear is when I go back, I’ll have been forgotten.

But I chose this, didn’t I?

-grievings of an international student

#personal #deep thoughts #grieving a loss that isn’t real #international student #university #leaving everything behind #illusion of love #following dreams #sad lives #what have i done #i have so much to say

[crinkle-eyed-boo]

Sunday Snippet

HELLO. 

It’s been a long time since I’ve shared something and since I’ve got just about 1000 words of chapter six of Arise, Fair Sun, I thought I would share some! It’s obvi unbetaed and a bit rough, but it’s something, and given my recent struggles, it feels like a victory. Enjoy. 

It has not been a good week. 

Harry had begged off the rest of the gala right after dessert finished, playing the “he just wanted to be well-rested for rehearsal” card with Liam, which worked like a charm. He’d spent most of Sunday psyching himself up to apologize to Louis first thing Monday morning, even if he wasn’t certain what exactly he was apologizing for. Their argument on the terrace and the way it ended? His behavior over the course of this whole stunt, which, after a good bit of self-reflection, Harry can admit has been difficult? The general way he’d misjudged Louis’ character? Would Louis accept a blanket apology or would he force Harry to spell it all out, enjoying the fact that he was eating crow? 

Normally, Harry would have bet on the latter, but after everything that went down at the gala, he wasn’t so sure. 

But then it didn’t matter because when he got to Irving Farm at 8:17 on Monday morning, Louis wasn’t there. 

Harry lingered at the coffee shop as long as he possibly could, keeping an eye on the MTA app on his phone and doing the mental train math. He’d even gone as far as ordering Louis’ usual Americano for him, hoping that he’d just overslept and would waltz through the door any minute in a beanie and his puffer coat demanding caffeine. By the time 8:34 rolled around, Harry decided that he couldn’t wait for Louis any longer or he’d be late to rehearsal. He gave the Americano to a homeless person camped out by the subway station, along with five bucks so they could get a breakfast sandwich, and then practically sprinted down to the platform, barely making the 8:39 train uptown. 

When Harry had walked into the studio at 9:20, five minutes later than usual, Louis was already there, sitting on the floor stretching with Zayn. A dark purple beanie was on his head and a grande Starbucks cup was sitting by his hip, forcing Harry to come to the conclusion that Louis had changed his morning routine to avoid him. 

And that…had stung. 

Not showing up at the coffee shop was just the beginning though. 

All week long Louis has been the consummate professional Harry had always thought he wanted him to be. He is completely focused on the work in a way that he wasn’t before, keeping pretty much to himself aside from smoke breaks with Zayn, who is suddenly like his best friend or something. He’s barely spoken to Harry other than exceedingly polite small talk which is somehow worse than outright giving him the silent treatment. There’s been no banter, no teasing winks, no attempts to ruffle his feathers or provoke an outraged response from him, and there’ve certainly been no nicknames. 

Harry hates it.

Tagging @disgruntledkittenface @kingsofeverything @allwaswell16 @absoloutenonsense @indiaalphawhiskey @myfineline @littleroverlouis @uhoh-but-yeah-alright @princelyharry @twopoppies and @daggerandrose to share anything if they would like to!

#Arise Fair Sun #This is like #Elizabeth discovering that she was wrong about Darcy #but still being #too proud to say so #at least that's the vibe I am going for #snippets #it is a bit of a mess #but I am plugging on

[gimmeurtmi]

I chose the 🦌 because multiple people told me I look like a deer, I don’t see it but I think they’re cute so I’ll run with it!! I guess it’s my representative animal hehe

I hope even if you didn’t get up to anything, you still had a nice final day of the year 💕 I spent a lot of the morning cleaning bc I decided I wanted to go into the new year with a clean home so I was quite thorough and it was a little exhausting but I sat down and watched a bunch of performances from the newest award show (aside from Hyunjin and yeji bc???? I can’t find it 🥲) so I’m all caught up on year end award show content 🥹🥹

I’m still alone but I shouldn’t be for much longer, hopefully. I still have to decide what to eat tonight 😅 I’m in no mood to be in the kitchen so I wish the food would just come to me, but alas magi isn’t real, not in that sense anyway

Okay I’ll stop rambling 💕💕💕💕 happy 2024 to you Lils! I’m glad I get to be around for another year of your account 💕

-🦌

that’s so cute though!!!!! i wouldn’t know what my representative animal would be but some of my friends call me a baby tiger so maybe that 😅

i also wanted to go into the new year with a clean room and to start a new page so i did some good organising on saturday and gosh it was sooo worth it! it’s such a pain to clean but i do really enjoy it even if i’m so tired after. as soon as i let the meds get too much i start spiralling and then it just gets worse. i’m glad you started your year off how you wanted it!!!

i haven’t caught up with the end of year content at all!!!! i’m so lacking 🥲 but here’s the 2hwang performance if you still haven’t found it my lovie

if only magic were real!!!!!!! there was a show i watched as a kid i don’t remember much at all but they had a microwave where they put in a bean and whatever they wished for came out. the fact that no one has invited that yet is appealing. we have self driving cars but no magic microwaves??????

anyway lovie i’m sorry for answering in delay i was studying all morning trying to catch up with the gaps i’ve allowed myself to fall into. i’m still far behind but i’m determined to make sure my dean’s list average stays as it is so i can have a chance to get on the list 😤🫡

hope your monday was good and the month started off well!! 💕💕💕💕💕

#ask #anon #🦌 anon #and i love your rambles dw sweets!!