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maniculum · 8 months

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Medieval Scorpions Effortpost

So yesterday I reblogged this post featuring an 11th-century depiction of the Apocalypse Locusts from Revelations, noting the following incongruity as another medieval scorpion issue:

The artist, as you can see, has interpreted "tails like scorpions" as meaning "glue cheerful-looking snakes to their butts".

Anyway, it occurred to me that the medieval scorpion thing might not be as widely known as I think it is, and that Tumblr would probably enjoy knowing about it if it isn't known already. So, finding myself unable to focus on the research I'm supposed to be doing, I decided to write about this instead. I'll just go ahead and put a cut here.

As we can see in the image above, at least one artist out there thought a "scorpion" was a type of snake. Which makes it difficult to draw "tails like scorpions", because a snake's tail is not that distinctive or menacing (maybe rattlesnakes, but they don't have those outside the Americas). So they interpreted "tails like scorpions" as "the tail looks like a whole snake complete with head".

Let me tell you. This is not a problem unique to this illustration.

See, people throughout medieval Europe were aware of scorpions. As just alluded to, they are mentioned in the Bible, and if the people producing manuscripts in medieval Europe knew one thing, it was Stuff In Bible. They're also in the Zodiac, which medieval Europe had inherited through classical sources. However, let's take a look at this map:

That's Wikipedia's map of the native range of the Scorpiones order, i.e., all scorpion species. You may notice something -- the range just stops at a certain northern latitude. Pretty much all of northern Europe is scorpion-free. If you lived in the north half of Europe, odds were good you had never seen a scorpion in your life. But if you were literate or educated at all, or you knew they were a thing, because you'd almost certainly run across them being mentioned in texts from farther south. And those texts wouldn't bother to explain what a scorpion was, of course -- everyone knows scorpions, right? When was the last time you stopped to explain What Is Spiders?

So medieval writers and artists in northern Europe were kind of stuck. There was all this scorpion imagery and metaphor in the texts they liked to work from, but they didn't really know what a scorpion was. Writers could kind of work around it (there's a lot of "oh, it's a venomous creature, moving on"), but sometimes they felt the need to break it down better. For this, of course, they'd have to refer to a bestiary -- but due to Bestiary Telephone and the persistent need of bestiary authors to turn animals into allegories, one of the only visual details you got on scorpions was that they... had a beautiful face, which they used to distract people in order to sting them.

And look. I'm not here to yuck anyone's yum, but I would say that a scorpion's face has significant aesthetic appeal only for a fairly small segment of the population. I'm sure you could get an entomologist to rhapsodize about it a bit, but your average person on the street will not be entranced by the face of a scorpion. So this did not help the medieval Europeans in figuring out how to depict scorpions. There was also some semantic confusion -- see, in some languages (such as Old and Middle English), "worm" could be a general term for very small animals of any kind. But it also could mean "serpent".* So there were some, like our artist at the top of the post, who were pretty sure a scorpion was a snake. This was probably helped along by the fact that "venomous" was one of the only things everyone knew about them, and hey, snakes are venomous. Also, Pliny the Elder had floated the idea that there were scorpions in Africa that could fly, and at least one author (13th-century monk Bartholomaeus Anglicus) therefore suggested that they had feathers. I don't see that last one coming up much, I just share it because it's funny to me.

*English eventually resolved this by borrowing the Latin vermin for very small animals, using the specialized spelling wyrm for big impressive mythical-type serpents, and sticking with the more specific snake for normal serpents.

Some authors, like the anonymous author of the Ancrene Wisse, therefore suggested that a scorpion was a snake with a woman's face and a stinging tail. (Everyone seemed to be on the same page with regards to the fact that the sting was in the tail, which is in fact probably the most recognizable aspect of scorpions, so good job there.) However, while authors could avoid this problem, visual artists could not. And if you were illustrating a bestiary or a calendar, including a scorpion was not optional. So they had to take a shot at what this thing looked like.

And so, after this way-too-long explanation, the thing you're probably here for: inaccurate medieval drawings of scorpions. (There are of course accurate medieval drawings of scorpions, from artists who lived in the southern part of Europe and/or visited places where scorpions lived; I'm just not showing you those.) And if you find yourself wondering, "how sure are you that that's meant to be a scorpion?" -- all of these are either from bestiaries or from calendars that include zodiac illustrations.

11th-century England, MS Arundel 60. (Be honest, without the rest of this post, if I had asked you to guess what animal this was supposed to be, would you have ever guessed “scorpion”?)

12th-century Germany, "Psalter of Henry the Lion". (Looks a bit undercooked. Kind of fetal.)

12th-century France, Peter Lombard's Sententiae. (Very colorful, itsy bitsy claws, what is happening with that tail?)

12th-century England, "The Shaftesbury Psalter". (So a scorpion is some sort of wyvern with a face like a duck, correct?)

13th-century France, Thomas de Cantimpré's Liber de natura rerum. (I’d give them credit for the silhouette not being that far off, but there’s a certain bestiary style where all the animals kind of look like that. Also note how few of these have claws.)

13th-century England, "The Bodley Bestiary". (Mischievous flying squirrel impales local man’s hand, local man fails to notice.)

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (A scorpion is definitely either a mouse or a fish. Either way it has six legs.)

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Wait, no, it’s a baby theropod, and it has two legs. (Yes, this is the same manuscript, that’s not an error, this artist did four scorpions and no two are the same.))

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Actually it’s a lizard with tiny ears and it has four legs.)

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Now that we’re at the big fancy illustration, I think I’ve got it — it’s like that last one, but two legs, longer ears, and a less goofy face. Also I’ve decided it’s not pink anymore, I think that was the main problem.)

13th-century England, MS Kk.4.25. (A scorpion is a flat crocodile with a bear’s head.)

13th-century England, "The Huth Psalter". (Wyvern but baby! Does not seem to be enjoying biting its own tail.)

13th-century England, MS Royal 1 D X. (This triangular-headed gentlecreature gets the award for “closest guess at correct limb configuration”. If two of those were claws, I might actually believe this artist had seen a scorpion before, or at least a picture of one.)

13th-century England, "The Westminster Psalter". (A scorpion is the offspring of a wyvern and a fawn.)

13th-century England, "The Rutland Psalter". (Too many legs! Pull back! Pull back!)

13th or 14th-century France, Bestiaire d'amour rimé. (This is very similar to the fawn-wyvern, but putting it in an actual Scene makes it even more obvious that you’re just guessing.)

14th-century Netherlands, Jacob van Maerlant's Der Naturen Bloeme. (More top-down six-legged guys that look too furry to be arthropods.)

14th-century Germany, MS Additional 22413. (That is clearly a turtle.)

14th-century France, Matfres Eymengau de Beziers's Breviari d'amor. (Who came up with that head shape and what was their deal?)

15th-century England, "Bestiary of Ann Walsh". (Screw it, a scorpion is a big lizard that glares at you for trying to make me draw things I don’t know about.)

I've spent way too much time on this now. End of post, thank you to anyone who got all the way down here.

#medieval #medieval creatures #medieval art #scorpions #medieval scorpions #manuscript #medieval manuscripts #illuminated manuscript

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luveline · 6 months

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jade i am begging on my knees ….. any time you are up for it …… it would make me very greatly happy to see something with a bombshell!reader x hotch <33333

The office is hot today in the midst of a ninety degree summer, and your coworkers have been forced to strip down to their lightest layers, the women in linen blouses, men with their shirt sleeves rolled up high. Spencer has ditched his sweater vest reluctantly, cooling himself with a makeshift fan fashioned from printer paper, and Emily huffs next to you at her desk, overwhelmed.

“How aren't you hot?” she demands to know.

You lean back in your chair with a demure smile. “Mind over matter.”

She rolls her eyes. “I shouldn't have asked.”

Hotch's office door opens. You turn in your chair to watch him appear —even Unit Chief's get hot, apparently. He looks flustered in the heat, pink-cheeked and hair skewed ever so slightly, the most unmade you've ever seen him at work.

You could get used to it.

He feels you looking, narrowing his eyes. You'd like to think it was playful. For Hotch, it is.

“Hot, handsome,” you say.

“I'm fine.”

“I wasn't asking.” You beam at him.

“Enough. You know the rules.”

He doesn't seem too mad, but he's right; you know the office rules. Don't flirt, don't start, and don't text him inside of work hours unless that text pertains to work itself. You'd started calling him instead —what are you wearing right now?— and he'd decided that text now meant any communication lest you find another loophole. You're pushing it.

“Ah, the rules,” you say, throwing your arm across your eyes in mock distress, before peeking under it to see if he's watching. He always is. “You know rules aren't made for people like me, handsome.”

“Stop it, final warning. Or I'll have you moved.”

He makes being his girlfriend very difficult. You roll your shoulders and drop the act. “Hey, I need to talk to you about something.”

“Afterwards.”

“No, right now. Please? It's important, I swear.”

He gestures for you to come up. You take the stairs and cross the landing to his office, where he's already stepped back inside to open the window even further on its hinge. There isn't much wind to breeze, but there is a palpable difference between his office and the bullpen. You join him at the window and let the barely cooler air fan your face.

“What's wrong?” he asks.

“Can you give me a quick kiss? It would really lift my spirits.”

He laughs somewhere deep in his chest. “No, honey. Now tell me what you wanted to tell me.”

“I have a doctor's appointment next week, on the 13th. It's a Wednesday. I was hoping for PTO, but I can take a sick day if that's not agreeable.”

Hotch gives you the side eye, brows gently furrowed. “Everything okay?”

“Wouldn't you like to know.”

“I would, actually.”

“Yeah, well, you'll have to beg for it. Not everything in life is free, Hotchner–” You break into laughter as he grabs your waist, not expecting it, your hips tender as he squeezes. “Ouch, you're kinda handsy, you know that?”

You sound beautiful like this, laughing as you talk, so happy it lines every word. Hotch pulls your front to his, arms crossing casually behind your back, his eyes expectant. “Tell me,” he commands smoothly.

“Because you asked so nicely, I'm just fine, but I've been feeling a little under the weather. I think I'm anaemic.”

“And this is the first time I'm hearing about this because…”

“Because I'm not allowed to talk to you at work!”

He rolls his eyes as you drop a considerable amount of your weight against his arms. Usually, Hotch would meet your eyes and say, You're punishing me for a rule created out of necessity, or something to that effect, but, despite everything that might say otherwise, he really likes you. Loves you.

“I know, honey, I'm sorry. Maybe we can… allot you a few texts a day.” He analyses your expression. “One a day.”

You squeeze his naked forearm and lift up to kiss his cheek. He stays completely still while you do it, beside the small stroke of his thumb where it rests on your back. “Thank you. I'll leave you alone now, or we might get caught fraternising with one another and lose our jobs. Oh, wait, that's not actually going to happen–”

You burst out laughing as Hotch once again squeezes your waist in warning, the hint of a smile on his lips.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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leahsgirl · 3 months

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can you write something else based in the homemade love universe :)

sun kissed escapade | leah williamson x reader

in which you and leah go on holiday with your three-year-old.

might make leah with kids fanfics my whole personality because im down bad for them

“and what do you think you’re doing?” the blonde stood at the bottom of the stairs, her arms folded over her chest as she shook her head disapprovingly.

“leah i’m capable of carrying wren’s case.” you replied carrying your daughters peppa pig suitcase down.

“and have the possibility of you falling? no can do princess.” she grabbed the luggage off you despite the protesting and pressed a quick kiss to the corner of your lips. “are you going to let me help at all?”

“nope!” leah had without a doubt been very protective and helpful since finding out about your second pregnancy. but that also meant she didn’t let you do anything if she thought it involved the slightest bit of hard work.

“are we all set then?” you asked.

“yep, everything’s packed.” the defender scooped her daughter into her arms, making her squeal in delight. “we’re gonna have so much fun aren’t we baby?”

wren giggled and nodded enthusiastically, her tiny hands reaching out to play with leah’s hair.

after a few hours of travelling - a difficult task when trying to keep a toddler entertained, you made it to the beachfront hotel youse were staying at. Instantly revelling in the sun’s rays and the general smell of the heat abroad.

the three of you occupied yourselves with spending time at the pool, opting for just a chill first day. “bleedin’ hell they don’t make these easy do they?” leah sat on a sunbed catching her breath as she tried to blow up wren’s armbands.

“babe you’re letting all the air out.” pointing to the open cap that wasn’t covered. “oh for god’s sake.” despite the cursing and countless breaks the blonde managed to do it as you’d just finished lathering sun cream onto the little girl’s face.

“don’t go running off missus.” you tell wren before letting her waddle off to the kids pool. pulling your beach bag closer to you, you take out the book you’ve been reading and get yourself comfy on the sun lounger. “you not coming in?” leah motioning to the water as she throws off her sliders.

“i’m just gonna relax for a while, read my book.” not looking up as your eyes stayed fixed on the page in front of you. she pressed a kiss on your forehead “okay darlin’.”

not even ten minutes later and you find yourself being smothered by a dripping wet wren whose bombarded you in a hug. “oh my gosh! wrenny i’m soaked through now.”

the toddler shrugged apologetically “mama told me to do it.” your eyes darting over to the older girl who was at the edge of the pool laughing cheekily. “oh did she now?”

“oh come on it’s just a bit of a laugh, stop being boring and come join us.” leah chimed, wren joining in on the pleading.

you caved, making your way over to the steps and into the warm water. leah grabbed at your waist, dragging you closer to deep end. “see this is much better than your book.”

you rolled your eyes playfully “i’ll have you know it was getting to the good part before you decided to use our child for your scheming.”

the skipper just smirked “it worked no?” happy her plan to get you in the pool succeeded. “just this time williamson.”

she pressed you against the wall, staring directly into your orbs, a dopey grin on her face. “i love you.” the words falling effortlessly from her lips as you repeated them. her mouth attached to your neck, peppering delicate kisses up to the back of your ear, a place she knew you was sensitive. you were thankful the hotel was quiet and secluded, only a few other people around who were too wrapped up in their own worlds to notice the public display of affection.

—

“princess - wait up!” leah called out to a very excited wren who you chased after while the arsenal player was busy unloading stuff out the rental car.

the toddler made a beeline for the sand and sea, eager to splash about. “we can’t be running off like that sweetie.” you getting your breath back now caught up with the little one. “sorry mommy.”

leah now joining youse, she laid out beach towels for you all to lie down along with passing you a cold bottle of water; the two humans inside you making you thirsty like no man’s business.

you occupied yourself with building sandcastles with wren, soaking in the quality time of just the two of you - only a couple of months remaining until you’d be a family of five. the blonde watched on in admiration, sneaking a couple of cute photos that she’d be posting later on for her ‘holiday camera roll dump’.

a good hour had passed - and lord what an hour it had been. it turns out the day you decided to go to the beach was also the day they was offering surfing lessons, so of course leah had to participate, her competitive spirit just as prevalent 4,000 miles away here than it was back home. “be prepared to be blown away by your incredibly sexy, multi-talented fiancé.” the taller woman winked before running off to join the group.

you and wren watched on from a distance, the small blonde sat in between your legs with your arms wrapped loosely around her stomach. “what’s your mother got herself into now hm wrenny.”

the three year old just giggled, nuzzling herself closer to you.

now if there’s one word to describe your partner’s performance on the waves - it would be hilarious. the poor girl could not stay on the board to save her life despite the adamant determination. when she did eventually stand up on the thing she got too excited and fell straight back into the water, the taste of salt getting unbearable at this point.

she made her way back over to you, a small scowl on her face now that she received a bruise to the ego. “have fun?” you asked finding this very amusing. “stupid surfboard - it clearly had something wrong with it!”

you patted her back reassuringly “maybe just stick to football love.” managing to get a little smile out of her as you pecked her lips.

“you thought i was good didn’t you angel?” leah diverting her attention over to the toddler who avoided the question, nuzzling into you more. “well it looks like beach 1, leah williamson 0.”

the centre-back mocked offence “i’m gonna give you two 10 seconds to run before i get you.”

you matched wren’s childish squeals as you ran off hand in hand away from the blonde, it not taking it long for leah to catch up and swiftly lift her daughter into her arms tickling her all over. “oh no looks like you’ve been caught wrenny.” sticking your tongue out playfully.

“erh you’re not off the hook either.” using her freehand to rope you in closer and have your lips crash together for a bruising kiss. “don’t see how that was much of a punishment babe.” you say once breaking apart.

“just giving you a glimpse of tonight’s agenda.” smirking cockily and smacking your butt.

—

nearing the end of your relaxing getaway, the three of you chose to go on an evening walk into town to find a restaurant to eat at. your hand intertwined with leah’s as she pushed wren in her pram.

after reading countless outside menu’s, you finally agreed on a small italian, leah content at the fact there was the option of chicken nuggets. “such a child.” you teased while being escorted to your table.

before leah could counter back she was being tapped on her side, small hands pointing to a little playground area set up at the end of the restaurant “can we go play?”

leah exchanged a glance with you waiting for approval, your lips curling up in a tender smile. “sure thing sweetheart, go have some fun.”

wren wasted no time in scampering up the ladder of the slide before abruptly stopping once at the top, the five feet off the ground suddenly very daunting. "c'mon you've got it." leah encouraged noticing the uneasy facial expression on the girl's face. "can you do it with me?"

giving in, no one surviving the puppy eyes wren gave when we wanted something, leah sat at the top of the kid's apparatus and positioned wren on her lap. "here we go baby."

huge grins on the toddlers face as they slid down - until they hit a snag that is; leah's hips getting wedged either side of the slide's edges, leaving both girls in an awkward predicament.

"uh-oh." the blonde muttered, attempting to wriggle free to no avail. "i think we're stuck."

wren's eyebrows furrowing in concern as she glanced back in your direction where you sat down rubbing your bloated stomach, people watching. she manoeuvred out of leah's grip, descending down the remainder of the slide.

"mommy! mama's stuck!" she tugged at your shirt urging you to get up and follow her. "mama's what?" you asked but didn't need your daughter to reply as your eyes landed on a very grumpy looking leah.

"oh wow, what's happened here?" trying to contain your amusement but failing miserably when a laugh escaped your lips.

leah's frustration was only mounting as she struggled to free herself. "its not funny." she grumbled, shooting a glare your way. "a little help would be appreciated."

"right, sorry." you attempted to slot your hand between the slide and her thigh hoping it would loosen the grip but it was useless. "babe please hurry people are starting to stare." despite the woman's strength, it was like she was superglued in place as she tried to break free. "why does this stuff only happen to you?" racking your brain for another plan.

leah folded her arms "i don't know but I'm stopping being the fun parent that's for sure."

you rolled your eyes playfully. "i'm gonna have to ask for help." scanning around for someone to help you. "no! this is embarrassing enough." to say this was humiliating for the older woman was an understatement. "honey its the only way - i can't get you out and wren definitely can't."

huffing but ultimately having to accept, leah let you call over a waiter who noticed your struggle. and after what felt like an eternity and three staff members later, your fiancé was set free, slightly disheveled but unharmed. wren burst into a fit of giggles, finding the entire ordeal utterly amusing.

"don't you dare send that video to anyone." leah noticing how you discreetly (or so you thought) video taped her whole rescue mission. you kissed her cheek "never babe. come on lets go eat."

after a very delicious meal that the restaurant kindly offered to pay for due to the trauma leah just faced, the said girl whipped out her phone, it buzzing relentlessly for the past ten minutes.

"babe why do i have multiple texts asking about the slide incident? who did you send it to?"

innocently smiling at her you shrugged. "no one really - just your mum..and our england teammates..maybe a few arsenal girls."

leah gawped at you, stopping in her tracks "you wouldn't dare."

holding up your phone to show her the messages, her face drained in humiliation. "i do dare." the opportunity to showcase the side of leah people rarely see too good - how could you not?

"oh you are so dead."

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #woso #woso community #arsenal wfc #arsenal women #england lionesses #lionesses #request

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nottsangel · 1 year

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frustrations — j.m.

pairing: enemy!jj maybank x kook!reader

warnings: smut, enemies to lovers, unprotected vaginal sex, arguing, praise kink, fingering , creampie

word count: 2.7k

summary: you and jj never got along. you both blamed the hatred on the differences between kooks and pogues, but it might be rooted in something different than that.

requested by @thegreatsimpforlife

nav. // m.list // taglist

“I don’t know about this Sarah” you said hesitantly. “Come on, it will be fine!” Sarah reassured as she dragged you by your arm with a tight grip, making sure you had no other choice but to follow her to the chateau. Her hair flowed beautifully in the evening’s summer breeze, causing you to forget about your worries for a brief moment as you gazed at her in awe. They quickly came back to mind once the chateau, along with the pogues, came into view.

Sarah invited you to hang out with the pogues and you had a strong feeling she hadn’t asked them beforehand, which made you feel uneasy. The pogues didn’t accept you. JJ in particular was very against it, and he made no effort to hide his disapproval from you. He claims kooks shouldn’t hang out with them, because they’re too different from one another. That was his biggest, but also his only reason. It was always the same pathetic story which he couldn’t seem to support with more reasonings.

Sarah insisted on you coming with her— she simply refused to pick a side. It clearly pained her, even though she tried not to show it. You were her best friend for years since she was a kook, and she tried to include you as much as she could. But you were still a kook, and Sarah was a pogue now.

Sarah waved at the pogues as the two of you approached them, and you warily followed her. They waved back at her before realising that you were with her, their excitement quickly waning. The two people who appeared to be most agitated were JJ and Kiara. JJ sat down again as his good mood instantly vanished and he angrily muttered something to the others. Pope and John B. weren't as opposed to it as the others were. Especially John B. remained silent. It would’ve been hypocritical of him to get angry at the situation, and as for Pope, he merely had more important things to worry about.

“What is kook princess doing here? Daddy didn’t bring you on his yacht today so you decided to annoy us?” JJ yelled as you came closer to them. Here we go again. You bit the inside of your mouth in hesitation, wondering if it was too late to just turn around. But you took a deep breath and decided to stay, for Sarah.

“Shut up, JJ” Sarah yelled back at him, giving him an angry glance. John B. worriedly eyed Sarah, Pope glanced at the ground, Kiara did not even acknowledge you and JJ’s enraged gaze wasn’t leaving you for even a second— the air was extremely tense.

Sarah eventually sat down on the bench and you followed her gesture to take a seat next to her. It was painfully quiet— the only sounds were a few still-awake birds chirping softly before JJ broke the silence, causing you to wince a little as you were lost in your thoughts.

“I’m gonna get something to drink. Anyone want something?” JJ asked as he stood up, seizing the empty can from beside him. Your throat felt dry, and you slowly raised your hand in desperation for a drink. “Yes, pl-“ “Nope. Not you.” You stared at him indignantly as he asked the others what they wanted, completely disregarding you before he headed back inside. Dickhead. You got up right after him and decided to get something yourself.

JJ grabbed several cans out of the fridge as you stood behind him, pondering what to say. You recoiled as he gripped the cans with annoyance and slammed them on the kitchen counter, a loud noise erupting with each can. It made you feel uneasy and you felt the need to talk to him slowly subsiding within you. The situation was difficult for you. You wanted to get along with the pogues, but no matter what you did— you could only do wrong in JJ’s eyes. Even though you weren’t particularly fond of him either, you could at least pretend to like each other for Sarah's sake and the harmony within the group. But JJ was too stubborn— it was hopeless.

You could hear incoherent whispers coming from outside just as you were about to speak before the door shut and the lock turned. Both your heads snapped to the door before JJ hurried to it, cursing as he frantically attempted to open it. When you peered out the window, you saw everyone scurrying from the chateau before getting into the twinkie and leaving.

“Fuck. You’ve got to be kidding me” you said once the realisation hit you. Sarah had mentioned something to you before about them locking Sarah and Kiara in the boat— now they’re doing the same to you and JJ.

JJ desperately tried to open the door before moving on to the windows, checking them one by one. He was persistent, but he also seemed quite stressed, which you couldn’t seem to understand. Why did this seem like a total nightmare to him? All you had to do was makeup, even if you were just pretending, and they would let you out. Easy. But JJ evidently had a different view on that matter.

“They’re locked, smartass. You really think they didn’t think this through?” you said as you lay down on the couch, closing your eyes to think the whole situation through. “Shut up. I will get out of here”

A few minutes have passed of JJ trying to escape, without any success. You hadn’t moved an inch since and weren’t planning to either until you heard your stomach growl, the sound amplified by the eerily quiet room. “I’m hungry” you grumbled as you let out a sigh. “I’m hungryyy” JJ repeated mocking you, giving you a nasty look. You turned your head to him in disbelief, letting out a small chuckle, “So at what point do you become mature, JJ?” JJ scoffed as he sat down on a chair, his head in his hands.

“You know, princess, if you had juuust stayed in your palace, none of this would have happened.” JJ sneered, annoyance and rage lacing his voice— it shifted the entire atmosphere in less than a second.

“Oh, so it’s my fault now? If you just learned how to grow the fuck up, we would actually be getting along right now” you snapped back as you quickly got to your feet and JJ did the same. He was marching towards you now as raw anger shot through him.

“Well, maybe if you weren’t such a stuck-up princess, it would actually be easy to get along with you” he responded and you felt the anger overtaking you. Rage flowed through you like lava as your faces were merely inches apart. It was unfair. This was not your fault and he was certainly not going to tell you it was.

“Stop acting like this is all my fault because you know it’s not! God, you’re so fucking stubborn, JJ! And stop calling me pri-“ before you could even finish your sentence, two strong hands cupped your face and you felt his lips against yours, kissing you roughly as your eyes widened. What the hell. As a reflex, you pushed him away and looked at him with utter shock all over your face.

“What the fuck!” you blurted out. He swallowed hard, surprised by his own actions as his mouth slightly parted but words were barely coming out, “I- sorry, it’s just- I don’t know why I-“

Fuck it— this time it was you cupping his face, kissing him even more roughly than he did. You weren’t completely sure why. But you felt desperate for him and you couldn’t feel yourself able to pull away. He kissed you back and you slowly felt all the frustrations from the months prior subsiding with each passing second. You hadn’t realised how much you were longing for this until this very moment. And the kiss— it was the perfect combination of rage, passion and desperation.

After a while, he drew his head back slowly, gazing at you as he murmured, “I’m sorry for being such a dick”, the regret and guilt evident in his eyes. Holy shit. You had been waiting, hoping, for an apology for months, which you eventually gave up on since you were certain he wasn’t even capable of saying the word ‘sorry’ to anyone. Surprisingly though, you didn’t fucking care. You didn’t want to hear some sob story about how sorry he was. At least not now. All you needed at this moment was him. All of him.

“Just shut up and fucking kiss me” you pleaded before hungrily kissing him again. You could feel him smile against your lips while his hands travelled from your waist to your ass, squeezing it as you moaned into the kiss. He swiftly lifted you, causing you to let out a small squeal, and set you down on the table with his hands exploring your body. Even though you tried to enjoy this moment, there was still one question that you couldn't get out of your head.

“JJ, why do you dislike me so much?” You blurted out, separating your face from his as you met his blue eyes. He licked his lips, unsure how to answer your sudden question. “You really wanna know?” He asked. You nodded cautiously, not sure if you were ready for the answer. “Because…” he paused briefly before continuing, his eyes avoiding yours, “because I hate the way you’re so perfect and smart and cute but you… you are a fucking kook and we shouldn’t-“ “Awhhh.” you interrupted and he instantly looked up at you with wide eyes. “You think I’m cute, Maybank?” JJ rolled his eyes, but you could see a small smile appearing on his flushed face. “But I think… I feel the same way about you, JJ. I just wish you would’ve shown me it in a different way” you admitted, feeling your heart pound out of your chest at your confession. “Don’t worry. I will, now”

He gave you a quick peck on the lips before removing your shirt as well as yanking your shorts off. He paused for a moment to take in your beauty, eyeing you up and down with a smirk, revealing his dimple. He had been secretly fantasising about this for months— groaning your name as his hand slowly pumped down on his cock night after night, wishing it was you. But you looked better than he ever could’ve imagined. He was in awe. The more he looked at you, the more his boner was visible as harder and more prominent in his tight shorts. You could tell he was big even through his clothes.

His hand moved along your thighs as his eyes met yours, not breaking eye contact, his fingers hovering over your wetness. He pushed your panties to the side before dragging his fingers along your slit, causing you to bite your lip.

“This wet already? For me? That’s cute.” he said cockily, making you feel even more impatient. "Fuck you, JJ" you snarled. "Well, we're already on it, aren't we, sweetheart?”

Your mouth opened slightly and your head fell back as two fingers slowly entered you. After a moment of stillness, his fingers started moving inside you, curling up and hitting that one spot inside of you that caused you to grab his arm tightly, nails digging into his skin. It was odd— he knew exactly how to make you feel good, how to move his fingers and where to find your sweet spot as if he had done this a million times before. His fingers increased their speed as his mouth moved to your neck, leaving soft kisses on your skin.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this, baby. Lemme take care of you, show you how sorry I am.” He felt you clench tightly around his fingers the moment he whispered those words and he let out a chuckle. “Your praise kink is showing, pretty girl” he whispered into your ear, his hot breath on your skin sending shivers down your spine. “I don’t have a- oh shut up” you felt your cheeks heat up as you looked him in the eyes and there it was— a smile. The first time the both of you smiled at each other— genuinely smiled at each other. For a split second, it felt like time stood still, but that didn’t last long when he continued moving his fingers and made you a moaning mess in front of him once again. You were so close to your release, and you were ready to let go when JJ suddenly withdrew his fingers from you, making you whine at the sudden empty feeling.

“Dickhead!” you yelped as you eyed him with an irritated look. “Not yet. I want you to come around my cock” he said as he placed his hands under your butt and lifted you, walking the both of you to the bedroom. To your surprise, he carefully lowered you onto the bed before giving you a kiss on the forehead. You weren’t used to this gentle and sweet side of him, but you savoured every moment of it, eager for more.

Your mouth opened slightly at the sight in front of you as he completely undressed, his boner slapping against his abs. He looked gorgeous— his abs were covered in sweat and his cock was dripping with precum. Your expectations were more than right— he was huge, the veins on his hard cock prominent, making your cunt ache.

He walked over to you, anticipation raging through your entire body. He kissed you roughly as he hovered over you, his hand moving slowly from your leg to your upper body, before unclasping your bra skilfully with one hand. He threw it across the room before his hand moved down to your panties, feeling yourself melt under his touch. He discarded you of your panties too before tossing them to the side as well.

He gazed at you as he placed his hand on the side of your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “You sure about this?” JJ asked one last time, wanting to make sure you were completely comfortable. “God, yes, please” you urged, not wanting to wait another second. He positioned himself between your legs before he pushed in in one quick thrust, causing you to moan out loudly. You felt so tight around his cock and it took everything in him to refrain himself from coming right then and there as his hands firmly gripped the sheets in an attempt to control himself.

“Fuck. You're so tight” JJ groaned as he started moving slowly, completely stretching you out. You took hold of his shoulders with all the might you had, fingernails dragging down his muscular back and low grunts leaving his mouth.

“Oh my god, f-feels so fucking good, J” you moaned out as you wrapped your legs around his torso, allowing him an angle to go even deeper. He gripped the headboard with one hand to support himself as his pace quickened, causing your eyes to flutter shut. You could feel his hot breath on your skin as he continued to pound into you at a brutal pace with his face merely inches away from yours.

“Gonna make you feel like this every day, princess, over and over again” he groaned, causing you to smile— suddenly, you didn’t mind him calling you princess anymore.

The pleasure was getting too much when his hand came down between your bodies to draw quick circles on your clit, your release nearing. You could sense he was close too, as his thrusts became sloppy.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum!” you cried out, holding him even closer to you as he kissed your neck. “Me too, baby, me too. Fuck. Cum for me”

You clenched around him when he hit that one spot inside you, shaking as you reached your high. A few more deep thrusts before he groaned in your ear, filling you to the brim with his warmth as you came all over his cock and moaned out his name loudly.

You were both attempting to catch your breath as he lingered inside you for a moment, admiring your beautiful, fucked-out face with a big smile. He eventually pulled out and lay down beside you, his eyes not leaving you.

“Still hate me?” You questioned, facing him.

“Oh, definitely” JJ replied with a smile as your brows furrowed, “Just as much?”

“Hmm…maybe…”, he said as he pinched his fingers, “a little less. But uh… I think round two can fix that”

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated since they keep me motivated to write more!!

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foreingersgod · 1 month

Note

Reader is best friends and played basketball with Caitlin in highschool and was really good. Ended up going to Iowa State bc Iowa was more focused on recruiting Caitlin. Reader transfers to Iowa and she and Kate are instantly smitten with eachother, but they are both very oblivious to the other’s feelings. Que Caitlin having to step in as wingwoman for her two idiot best friends

Smitten . KM

pairing: kate martin x reader

synopsis: kate takes a liking to you and caitlin plays wingman

A/N: NOT PROOFREAD

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

“are you ready for your first day?” caitlin sing songed as you guys got into her car.

“ready, but nervous” you said from the passengers seat, duffel bag at your feet as you chewed at your fingers anxiously.

“you’ll be great, everyone is going to love you”

“how do you know?” buildings and other cars rushed passed in a blur as you looked out the window.

“because you’re my best friend” she looked over to you briefly “and i know the girls, they’re gonna see exactly what i see in you, ok? don’t worry”

you nodded while still trying to distract yourself with the commotion outside. it was going to be your first day on the team with iowa, having transferred there just recently. you had played basketball with a different school but you felt limited and a bit far from home (and your best friend) and had decided that going to iowa would be best. caitlin was ecstatic to have you join the team, and you were too, but having to meet new people was always difficult for you. playing with a whole different group was going to be a big adjustment.

the car ride felt longer than it should have until you arrived at the gym. caitlin escorted you through the doors to show you around and get settled. she led you to the locker room, getting you acquainted with your designated locker.

you unloaded the contents of your bag and organized everything in hopes that it would make you feel more at home. it didn’t really do much, but at least it looked like you fit in. while you were finishing everything, lacing up your shoes and freshening up, caitlin hung around to talk to you. she gave you the full run down of drills and schedules for practices.

“and i think you’re really gonna like the-” caitlin said, pausing when the doors to the room opened “oh, hey kate!”

kate? caitlin mentioned her once or twice

“we were just about to head out to meet you guys,” you watched caitlin speak as a tall blonde came around the corner. she was already suited up in uniform, hair pulled back into a messy braid. she walked over to where you stood near the lockers “but since you’re here, this is the newest addition to the team! kate, this is my friend YN, YN this is kate!”

she looked down at you, being a few inches taller, and you blushed almost instantly. her smile was contagious, lips pulled tightly into a grin. there was a comforting look in her eyes as well, they flickered as she studied you.

“hi” she breathed, tongue darting out to wet her bottom lip “it’s really nice to meet you”

“yea, you too” you swallowed hard as her gaze shifted from your face to the rest of your body, lingering on your shorter figure.

she had muttered something to caitlin along the lines of i’ll see you guys out there, before abruptly leaving the locker room without another word. you couldn’t really place it, but there was something about her that made your heart flutter.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

“come on, YLN” kate taunted you playfully from behind you. you hate just attempted a 3 point shot and failed miserably. you might have been good at layups, but in all honesty you weren’t very good at deeper shots “you can do better than that!”

“i just can’t seem to get my form right, like i don’t know, there’s something wrong” you sighed, fetching the ball. “i don’t know how you and caitlin make those”

“mind if i…?” she trailed motioning to the ball, you nodded and passed it to her.

“be my guest”

the ball bounced off the court and into her hands with ease, fingers pressing into it gently to get a good grip on it. you stared, admittedly, as the veins along her wrists strained when she grabbed it. kate took a step back off the line, knees bending and getting into the perfect form for a 3. her tongue stuck out slightly, a habit you quickly noticed she had, as she took her shot. and of course, it fell through the net with ease.

“see,” she scrunched her nose, turning back to you “easy!”

“yea ok” you scoffed and rolled your eyes

“i think it’s just your form” kate tried to reassure you “your arms aren’t in the right place”

she bounced the ball back to you, telling you to try again but to change the way your elbow was angled. despite changing the entire position of your arm, kate still told you that it wasn’t right.

“i can show you, if you’d like?” she shuffled behind you again.

“it would be much appreciated” you sighed, frustrated that you couldn’t do this on your own.

body hovering against yours, kate extended her arms around you to place her right arm underneath yours. she she held the underside of your elbow in her hand to demonstrate where your arm needed to be, left hand guiding yours to the ball. she was now almost completely pressed against you, so close that you could feel her breathe tickle the hairs of your neck.

“just like this, see” it came across as a whisper, her mouth inches from your ear. she helped you make a practice shot, arms still guiding yours. “annnnddd-yea! you got it!”

her voice wavered, realizing she was still cradling your arms. she stepped away from you, a sad sigh threatening to spill from you at the loss of contact.

“you’re like a natural” she smiled awkwardly, scratching at the back of her neck.

“because of you” your cheeks heated up “thanks, kate”

“no problem”

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

it was 7pm on a thursday, blankets on the couch and a pizza box in front of you. you and caitlin had made it a habit to do weekly movie nights at your apartment since your transfer. when everything got hectic on the team, you both wanted to make sure to keep your friendship strong outside of basketball.

“i don’t want to go to practice tomorrow” you mumbled through a mouthful of pizza as the credits to the movie rolled.

“why not?” cait shut off the tv “you’ll get to see kate again!”

you furrowed your eyebrows “what are you talking about? i’ll get to see everyone”

“yea, but especially kate” she said, matter of factly.

“why are you being weird? did kate do something, im confused?”

“oh come on” she put her slice of pizza back in the box, closing it. she leaned back against the arm of your couch as she nudged your shoulder “you really don’t know what i’m talking about?”

“uh, no”

“YN, you’re like in love with her” a coy smile made its way on her lips as you stuttered to find a response.

“what?” you almost choked on your slice of pizza “i’m not! what makes you say that?!”

“you’re always touching up on each other and looking at each from across the room. the sexual tension is like, through the roof”

“you’re crazy”

“be real, YN” she sat up fully, looking you in the eyes “you can sit here and lie and say that…but we all see it. and kate does too, i bet she’s just been waiting for you to say something”

and oh did caitlin know what she was doing. she knew that kate felt the exact same way. when they’d hang out after practice, have a pep talk, anytime you weren’t around caitlin would do the same thing. she’d sneak in comments about you and say how you were practically begging for kate to say something. it was all a plan, convince you both to speak up about your true hidden feelings and then BAM! you’d be dating in no time.

you said nothing, looking down into your lap as you picked at your nails anxiously. you’ve definitely always liked kate, more than any of the other girls, but you had just assumed it was a close friendship. the touches and the glances that caitlin talked about were certainly there, but that was normal wasn’t it?

so all you did was shake your head, making up some excuse as to why you were just friends. then you quickly shooed caitlin out before retiring to your room for the night, laying awake thinking about what she had said. maybe she was right, maybe you needed to face your true feelings and talk to kate.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

tonight marked your one year of playing with iowa and making some of your closest friends. in honor of this milestone, you and the team were going out to celebrate. they had insisted on going out to dinner at a nice restaurant just downtown from your apartment.

you wore your nicest clothes, cleanest shoes, and used all your expensive products to make sure you looked great. the hours leading up to the dinner, you were absolutely beaming with joy. the girls had taken you under their wing and taught you so many things so you were really excited to celebrate tonight.

dinner was an absolute dream. the girls had made it such a wonderful night; there was good food, good conversation, and a few of them had even got you a little something to tell you how happy they are to have you as a friend. after finishing up your meals and paying, everyone started to wind down for the night and slowly dwindle out. you, caitlin, and kate were the last ones to leave. it was growing late and you were ready to go home, planning on just walking back to your place.

“i’m gonna dip,” caitlin pulled her keys from her pocket “kate do you want a ride back?”

“no i-uh, i think i’m gonna hang back, you go ahead” she said as caitlin walked over to the parking lot. kate glanced over at you nervously as you pulled your jacket around your shoulders.

“i thought you and caitlin carpooled? are you sure you don’t need a ride?”

“really, i’m fine. i was actually hoping i could walk with you?” she sucked in a breath “if that’s ok, i kinda wanted to talk to you…in private”

you nodded, “oh! yea of course!”

flashbacks of the movie night with caitlin last week flooded your brain. you thought of how you laid awake, thinking of how you were going to tell kate how you felt. the fear of being rejected made it hard for you to find a time to confess, you had been waiting for months now to do it.

maybe this is a sign you thought.

the sky was a deepening blue as the sun was finally setting, stars twinkling brightly. the air was starting to cool as you and kate began walking down the street to your apartment. there was a decent distance between the two of you, walking silently next to each other.

“so, what did you want to talk about?” you began.

“right,” she muttered, scratching the back of her neck “i don’t really know how to…how to say this”

she stopped abruptly on the sidewalk causing you to become worried. you stopped as well, trying to read her face for some sort of emotion.

“just say what feels right, you can tell me anything, you know”

you pulled your jacket tight around you in an attempt to shield your body from the cold. you watched as kate looked down at the ground then back at you, irises looking into yours. he nose was red, probably from the cold or maybe it was from all the sniffling. you couldn’t tell if she was crying or nervous, but you felt extremely worried. was she actually sad? had you done something wrong?

“YN, i…” she bit her lip, another sniffle taking over her “i really like you. like more than just friends”

suddenly the world stop, your heart stopped beating in your chest. it wasn’t just you who had the idea, it seemed.

“and before you say anything, i just want you to know that no matter how you feel, i won’t be mad. i don’t want this to ruin our friendship or make things awkward, but i just had to tell you. i don’t think i could’ve kept it to myself for much-”

“kate stop talking” you blurted out breathlessly, stumbling towards her slim figure.

your body collided with hers, making you both wobble backwards. shaking hands found a comfortable place on the sides of kate’s face as you pulled her into you, lips fitting onto hers. naturally, she was surprised, eyes flickering shut as she melted into you. her hands gripped the sides of your waist, keeping you close to her.

“i really like you, too” you pulled away, gasping for air.

“oh thank god” she let her forehead fall against yours “i know i said i wouldn’t be mad, but it would have been horrible if you had said no”

“you don’t have to ever worry about that” a small laugh escaped from your lips.

there was a slight moment between you, something peaceful and serene. a moment where you just started at each other and smiled, foreheads still touching, bodies still pressed together. she closed her eyes, shaking her head with a smile.

“what?”

“nothing,” kate stepped back, taking a hold of your hand “it’s gonna sound weird, but caitlin was the one who told me to say something to you. and i thought she was crazy because i didn’t think you’d have any feels for me like that, but here we are”

“wait, caitlin told you that i probably had feelings for you too?” you said.

“yea, she was insistent that i talk to you, why?”

“because,” you smacked your palm to your head in astonishment “she’s been pestering me for months to admit that i was ‘in love with you’”

kate smirked, throwing her head back and laughing. she seemed so content, despite being here in the freezing cold on a silent road in the middle of the night. she seemed relaxed and satisfied, she was glowing.

“wow,” her hair moved gracefully as she shook her head “our wing-woman, huh?”

“yea i guess so” you returned her smile, forcing yourself into her arms.

you had asked her (so sweetly that she couldn’t possibly say no) to come home with you. neither of you had any idea where the night was taking you, but you were both too exhilarated to let it end.

thank god for caitlin.

#wcbb #wcbb x reader #kate martin #kate martin x reader #iowa wbb #foreingersgod

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macfrog · 6 months

Text

walking through fire | one shot

just something that's been on my mind the last few weeks. i hope that you're all ok going into this difficult time of year. and if there's any part of this, big or small, that you find yourself resonating with - there will always be a warm, cozy chair in my inbox/dms, free for you to come sit, hang; we can talk about everything or nothing at all. love you guys. 🤍

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

summary: you’re neck-deep in a bout of seasonal depression. your boyfriend suggests an autumnal walk. (better than most healthcare systems offer amarite)

warnings: quite literally about depression & anxiety so please read at your own discretion. established relationship, fluffy soft!joel takes care of his girl, implied suicidal thoughts, use of medication to treat depression/anxiety, feelings of worthlessness/burdening, but hope! in the end! a wee sliver of hope!

word count: 2.7k

main masterlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🖤

November turns on itself all too quickly.

Your body feels like lead, sinking deep into the mattress. Like a broken, rusted shipwreck at the bottom of the ocean; your hand lying limp above the bedsheets like a sailor’s last attempt at reaching over the waves for help.

Joel opened the blinds today. Nuzzled into you, the scruff of his beard sharp on your numb skin, and then stood up and slowly unveiled the glaring light of white cloud. You shrunk further into the bed, your hot breath suffocating you under the sheets. Inhaling and exhaling, breathing in your own rotten air.

He pushes the door open and shuffles across to the bed. Your sea dips when he lowers into it, two arms slipping around your waist like a lifebuoy. He pulls you into his chest; his warm body melting the ice of your bones.

“Hey,” he whispers, and drags his nose across your cheek. He kisses your temple, combs his fingers through your hair. Dabs his thumb along your bottom lip and then says again, “Hey, darlin’. You awake?”

Your eyes flutter open, only enough to see the blurry shape of him; the strong curve of his shoulder, the binary of dark cotton and pale skin.

“Hi, baby. How you feelin’ this mornin’?”

The words catch on the dry cliff of your throat, dangling for a few seconds like panicking climbers, before plummeting into the abyss. You settle for an incoherent mumbling, a vibration on your lips that Joel understands through the pad of his thumb.

“Yeah,” he sniffs, “not so good, huh? That’s okay. You know how much I love you?”

And that peels your eyes open a fraction more. Only enough to sharpen the image of him, to find the dark pools of his eyes and the way the flame in them flickers as he says it.

“Love you so much,” he whispers. The tiny fire thaws the very bottom of your heart, even if only enough to keep the blood pushing heavily through your veins.

Your eyes close over again, and you take his shirt in two weak fists, pulling yourself into his body. Your head fits in the crook of his arm, burying into his side.

“You feel like leavin’ the house today?” he asks, voice sweet and earnest. “Just for a little while? We could go for a walk, could go for a drive. Just you ‘n me, sweet girl.”

You shake your head, your eyes prickling from the sincerity of his question. The guilt beginning to creep its way over your shoulders.

“No? You don’t wanna?” He lifts his head, staring out at the view from the window. “’s a nice day out. Cold, but it’s dry, ‘n the leaves are all orange and yellow, just like you like. Not even for a half hour?”

That same guilt – sneering, bullying – pokes a sharp-clawed finger in your ribs until you answer him. “Tired,” you mumble, screwing your eyes shut until you see the sudden, violent assault of stars in your vision.

“I know you’re tired, baby,” Joel says, stroking your back. “But it might do you a little good to get some fresh air. And you’d be with me, and we can come back home whenever you decide.”

Your fear and shame seem to cower beneath his words; melted by the soft timbre of his voice. They retreat inward, burrowing deep between the cage of your ribs, twisting and mangling around your pale bones.

“We can come back whenever?” you whisper, defying their threats.

“Whenever, darlin’. Promise.”

You surrender yourself, letting him take you in his arms and carry you over to your closet, where he sets you down gently. Keeping an arm around your waist, Joel waits patiently as you pick an outfit, and then helps drape it over your frame. You feel more statue than human – solid substance rather than plush flesh. Cold and brittle; the tender touch and lively glow drained from your skin the same way it drains so quickly of energy.

You’ve been fighting for years. Months and months and months of one step at a time and just keep going. Being told you’re more than what’s going on in your brain, being told not to let it become you. But there are days when you stand before the mirror, and you don’t recognize the figure staring back at you. The dark tunnels in place of eyes, the thin line of her lips.

There are days you can see the marks on your skin from how tight your anxiety and depression bind you; wrapping like ivy around your body until there’s nothing left of you to see through the dark green leaves. Just a haggard, shapeless thing. A skeleton too tired to carry the weight of yourself; a heart too weary to beat in time.

There once existed a time you had smiled, even laughed – you know it, you have the lines scored deep into your cheeks to prove it. Sometimes they ache when you think about it, like even they miss the feeling. Joel knows it, too – you sense it whenever he tells some dumb joke, sense that he’s searching your face for the slightest lift, the slightest dip of a dimple. And it fucking kills you, when you realize you have nothing sincere or true to offer him. No swollen cheeks, no flash of teeth. At best, a heavier exhale pushed from your nostrils.

It all feels so long ago, that lighter, fresher, happier you. It feels so far from your clutches. Like you’re drifting further and further from the surface, disappearing into the murky depths of your own mind.

The doctors, the articles, the fucking motivational posts on Instagram all say the same. Keep fighting it. Confront your illness. Prove it wrong. But you’re so fucking tired of fighting. Fighting it the entire drive to work, your heart threatening to burst; fighting it every conversation you have, your façade slowly cracking. Swallowing the panic like you swallow the medication; both of them sticking in your throat and refusing to go down.

There is no fighting it. There is no overcoming through confrontation. If you broke your leg, shattered every bone to dust, would they say the same? You gotta walk on it straight away to make it strong again. You don’t think so.

Joel doesn’t seem to think so, either. Joel, with a heart of molten gold, ready at every turn to let it pour onto your skin and paint it the color of sunlight when you can’t do it yourself. Joel, with his strong arms and wide reach, bundling you up over the top of all that foul ivy and snapping its thick stems with just his fingers.

Joel, who will sit at the edge of your bed and watch you take your meds; kiss your forehead and squeeze you tight when you show him your empty mouth. Joel, who will hold you in the dead of night and tell you stupid stories about his brother when they were kids, rubbing your back and chasing the dark ghosts from your mind.

Joel, who still sees something in you – whether he’s imagining it or not – and decides each day that it’s worth protecting. Worth saving. You’re worth saving, even on the days you don’t believe it yourself.

He drives for ten minutes, a little out of the suburbs and into a thicket of fire-colored leaves and solid, frozen ground. Fall sinks its teeth deep into the roots of the earth, drying up the bloom of summer and replacing it with something harder, something tougher. Nature is dying in the November breeze – the amber leaves painted the color of the trees’ blood as they fight a losing battle against the shifting of time. You feel yourself decaying with it: a drawn-out, painful surrender to the bleak days and dark nights.

Joel keeps his hand on your thigh the entire ride; you keep your fingers intertwined with his. The fluttering in your chest gets quicker and quicker, spreads its wings wider the further you feel from home. Your mouth dries up, forcing you to swallow after every third breath. But his hand stays there, planted on you like the root of an ancient tree: never shifting, no matter how strong the wind throws punches.

A shaky breath falls from your lips when he slows to a halt, the truck parked by a long wooden gate. He cuts the engine and turns to you, squeezing your leg lightly.

“We’re just gonna walk down there,” he nods out the window, “and back again. As slow as you like, ‘n we turn back when?”

“Whenever I want,” you whisper, nodding.

“Whenever you want, darlin’. Just say the word, alright? Sound good?”

You nod, blinking away the strain of tears across your vision. Your knee bounces, the metal buckles on your boots clinking in the footwell.

Joel rubs his thumb against your cheek. Lifts your free hand and places a delicate kiss to your knuckles. “I am so proud of you,” he mumbles against them, like scoring it into the bone.

You fill your cheeks, flattening your lips together, and he pulls on his door handle.

Five paces from the car, you realize how cold it is. The bitter air snaps at your cheeks, drags the salty tears from your eyes. Joel quickly fixes the collar of your jacket and pulls your scarf over your face.

“You bring gloves?” he asks.

Your head shakes in response.

“Here.” He fishes in the pockets of his tan jacket for a dark brown pair, flicking his fingers for you to hold your quivering hands out. He slips them on, all too big for you, and then knots his fingers through yours and leads you on down the sloping backroad.

Bordered by tall trees on either side, you feel secluded and hidden from the rest of the world. It fills you with equal parts comfort and terror: nobody else is here. No one can see your vacant eyes, the wet stain of fallen tears on your cheeks. Not the vice grip you have on your boyfriend or the weak quiver of your voice.

And at the same time: nobody else is here. No people, no sign of life. Just an isolated track, the looming trees overhead, the squelch of muck and the bite of fall for company.

Joel matches your pace, strolling along by your side with your arm through his and his hand resting on top of yours. He catches your glances over your shoulder, sees the jittery movements of your head as you scan the scene around you, and pats the back of your hand tenderly.

“Take a deep breath for me.”

You fill your lungs with a chilly gulp of air, pushing it back out again as steadily as you can.

“And again.”

You repeat the exercise, your chest swelling against your buttoned up coat.

“You’re doin’ great,” he says, looking down at you. “You feelin’ okay?”

“I’m – Yeah, I’m just…” you twist back to search for the wooden gate, “…can’t see the truck anymore.”

“’s right there, promise ya. You wanna go back?”

He pauses, and your boots scuff to a halt on the stony terrain. You chew the inside of your cheek, eyebrows arching to release more tears from between your lashes. “No,” you breathe, “I wanna try to go further.”

“Then let’s try to go further. Yeah?”

You nod, setting off when you realize he’s waiting for you to take the lead.

The fields on either side of you are strung with a thick blanket of mist from one end to the other, masking the trees at the opposite side and obscuring the line between earth and sky. Your body close to Joel’s, your heartbeat attempting to match the steady pace of his, you feel safe, protected. The promise that you can call it a day whenever your body begins to weigh too much, whenever your lungs begin to falter.

Somewhere between the thinning of the hedgerows, another slanted, shabby gate materializes. Its crisscross panels and worn wooden posts separating you from the first company in your twenty-minute walk.

“Joel,” you call, loosening your grip on his arm and wandering over to the long, dewy grass towards a chestnut horse, a sliver of white fur diving deep between her eyes.

She slowly thumps over, huge hooves sinking deep into the soft dirt. Her long tail swishing, navy rug wrapped around her midriff. She docks at the gate, puffing a heavy breath – hot, thick clouds shooting from each nostril.

“Hi,” you say quietly, lifting a floppy-gloved hand for her to sniff. “Joel?” you say again, glancing down at her swollen belly, the low droop of the rug. “I think she might be pregnant.”

She tosses her head up, ears flicking, and nuzzles into the soft material of Joel’s glove. You feel her wrinkled muzzle, the strong, solid bridge of her nose. She blinks slowly; huge, deep brown eyes twinkling in the late-morning light, and you swear she’s trying to communicate something to you.

“Hey, girl,” Joel says, running a careful hand down her mane.

The horse sighs serenely, eyes flitting between the two of you. Her nostrils flare gently, light brown lashes fluttering. You tilt your head, stroking her and letting her teeth graze the sleeve of your jacket. Her bulky head turns to-and-fro, glancing up and down the trail you’re stood on, contently waiting for the passage of time. Enjoying her view from the misty field before it all changes again.

Unexpected and unwelcome, the absence of compression in your chest suddenly makes itself known. Dread spills into your lungs, thick like tar. You turn on your heel and cast Joel one fleeting glance.

He catches it, and without missing a beat, asks, “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” you say. “Is that okay?”

“’s more ‘n okay, baby. You did so good today. Didn’t she?” he asks the horse, who huffs another hot breath. Joel tosses a thumb towards her. “See?”

You step back over to the animal, now preparing to wander back on home, and give her one last tender stroke. She blinks twice, tosses her head a final time, and her broad body turns, thudding off back up the slope.

As he links your arms again, Joel blinks down at you, the corners of his mouth slowly lifting.

“What?” you ask, shyly.

“Look at you,” he says, nudging your shoulder with a glint in his eye. “You’re smilin’.”

Autumn flashes by as Joel drives you home – ginger and bronze and honey and cinnamon blurring into one as you pass them by. You settle back against the headrest, moving with the sway of the truck, your tired fingers tracing blind shapes on Joel’s palm.

Nature is burning. Perhaps dying is too harsh a term. Burning in preparation for the winter, when it will lay dormant and restful. Quiet, save for the crunch of snow beneath your feet. Bland, save for the sparkle of frost on your windowpanes. The droplets of beauty laced through, the little reminders that not all has been lost.

I am burning right now, the earth says, but wait until you see what I can become.

The days will turn to night. The sun will tear the sky to tatters, set the whole thing fucking ablaze, go down in a battle stained in red and orange and deep, dark blue – and she will still return, spilling golden all over the horizon. She always does.

The clouds will cover overhead, dampening the color on earth. The blues will fade to gray, the yellows will undoubtedly pale. And then the sky will clear, when it is ready; the clouds will break in two to let a ribbon of cerulean burst through.

The leaves will fall to the ground and feed the soil; new ones will sprout from buds left in their wake. The ground will thaw, will soften again in time to welcome the push of daisies and burst of heather. The horse will foal, the birds will sing to their babies, the buzz of insects will irritate your ears; the rivers will gush and the trees will sway and you will be okay again.

You will be okay again.

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller au #joel miller fluff #the last of us #tlou #tw mental illness #tw depression #tw anxiety

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gothmikasagf · 4 months

Text

Project matchmaker

Pairings: Lucifer x gn!reader, huskerdust

Warnings: reader is bored, bad choices, Lucifer is clueless and just wants to make Charlie happy, very bad choices, some swearing, crack fic, don't take this too seriously, reader is a dumbass, no smut. You might experience second-hand embarassement, sorry not sorry.

Summary: Valentine's day is approaching and reader is bored and wants to play matchmaker with Angel Dust and Husker. Lucifer is accidentally roped into it because he wants to make a good impression on Charlie. Chaos ensues.

Word count: 3.5k

Notes: I apologize for everything in advance. English is not my first language. Let's pretend Lucifer is actually over Lilith for the sake of the fic. Very, very nervous to post this but here we go.

Residing at the Hazbin Hotel wasn't as bad as people made it out to be. It was actually pretty difficult to find free rent and good company in hell, so even if you weren't sure about the whole redeeming thing, you weren't bothered in the slightest.

You spent the majority of your days going along with Charlie's exercises and gossiping with Angel Dust whenever he was free. You thought of yourself as pretty lucky compared to the average sinner in hell, so you weren't really complaining.

Still, there was something missing, some other form of entertainment, a dynamic that would switch up daily life a little and make it less boring. And after the weekly movie night on Voxflix that's when it hit you.

Since Valentine's day was getting closer, you and Angel decided to watch a cheesy rom-com, one of those that makes you sigh and squeal even if you don't believe in that type of love outside of the screen. You were just wondering about who the main couple reminded you of with flirty banter and hidden stares when suddenly the best idea ever-kind of-came to you!

"You okay over there, toots?" Angel had looked over to you worriedly.

"Never been better!" you smiled at him and redirected your attention to the movie, a plan forming in your mind.

You weren't even sure if Valentine's day was still a thing in hell, but if it wasn't, you were going to bring it back.

What you didn't know, though, was that the very own king of hell was gonna be accidentally roped into your schemes. And that you would end up developing an embarrassing crush on him.

Two days after your (not so) brilliant idea, you were in front of Charlie's room, asking for an audience.

You were ready to oversell your cause if necessary, but you knew Charlie had a good heart, and the fact that this idea might be beneficial for the hotel gave you high hopes.

You told her how it would have been wonderful if you could decorate the hotel's lobby for Valentine's day because everyone deserves a little bit of love, especially in hell! And throwing a small party would surely attract some new sinners.

At the end it didn't take much convincing. Charlie was very happy to have the opportunity to lure more people into trying to redeem themselves, and Vaggie wasn't too opposed either, as long as it was kept civil.

And that's how you found yourself in this predicament.

"I think pink would be the best suited for it." You said to none other than the king of hell. He was hunched over a gigantic banner that read "Valentine's day" followed by various hearts, and his face was scrunched into a deep, concentrated face.

After your successful meeting with Charlie, you thought either she or Alastor would have been the ones helping you with the task of decorating the hotel, you didn't know how wrong you were. Alastor didn't want anything to do with the project, pretending to be fully immersed in who knows what he was able to come up with on the spot. And you guessed that's when the big boss of hell himself came into the picture; having heard of Alastor's failure, he immediately jumped in to try and make himself look better in Charlie's eyes, even if it meant having to work with a lowly sinner like you.

He wasn't as annoyed by your presence as you were expecting, even if you were kind of bossing him around to get everything perfect. You would have the time to regret this later, right now you couldn't afford to not have the right atmosphere for what you were planning.

He nodded in approval and magically switched the color from red to pink, leaving some red hearts to create a better effect.

This wasn't your first time meeting the king of hell, you were right there when he and Alastor started fighting over who was the best father figure to Charlie. Although you didn't get to talk much that time or the one after that, as he was busy kicking Adam's ass. You were amazed by his powers, as any sinner like you would, and you found him to be quite a peculiar person. So you were quite happy, and also a bit intimidated, to spend this time alone with him.

"Now it's perfect" you said, finally happy with the final result. You started to think of a way to put it up effectively without having to use the hotel's old and rusty ladder when he unfurled his wings and easily put it in place.

They were so majestic and you had never seen such a shade of pure white, it wasn't really common in hell. You wondered how he kept them so pristine after all those years.

"Are we done now?" He asked while landing gracefully on the ground.

You looked around the lobby and smiled proudly at yourself. The bar was adorned with pink and white garlands, and cute and small red hearts spread here and there. From the ceiling, some pink and white paper flowers you and Angel Dust made were hanging beautifully, and the banner just tied them all together.

"We're just missing a little something." You said, not looking at him in the eyes. This was going to be the real protagonist of the event, and convincing him was going to be crucial.

He raised an eyebrow and looked at you expectantly. "We just need some mistletoe right there" you pointed at a secluded corner near the bar, where surely you'd manage to rope Angel and Husker close enough so that they at least would have to address the heart eyes they sent each other all the time. They weren't being as subtle as they thought.

"Mistletoe?" Lucifer crossed his arms and looked at you, confused.

"Yeah, you know the one that people usually have to kiss under. I think it makes a lot more sense for Valentine's day than Christmas, if I have to be honest."

"That's-" he tried to say, but you interrupted him because you really needed it for the plan to continue.

"I know, I know, but I spoke to Charlie and we reached an agreement." you really hoped that mentioning Charlie's approval was going to be enough for him to do it. You also hoped he wouldn't actually ask her because you did not have her approval for it. You were playing dirty, but you couldn't just surrender halfway through victory.

The man in front of you sighed, but he did it, you secretly thanked your lucky stars and tried to act as less suspiciously as possible.

You were getting good at this. Maybe you should really start considering a career in matchmaking.

"What does the king of hell think?" You asked while admiring your work. Maybe he didn't exactly like you or find your company suitable for his tastes, but you still thought you did a pretty good job together.

"I think it's still missing something" he said, looking around. He had discarded the jacket and hat half an hour ago, and you were just noticing he looked really good without them.

You were so wrapped up in your little plan that you didn't even take a good look at him. And maybe it should have stayed that way because he was Charlie's father, and oh, when did the room start to become so hot?

"Maybe a duck or two" he whispered to himself while scanning the bar's decorations. You took a little break from the inner hyperventilating to look at the same spot as him.

Was it some sort of hell's tradition you weren't aware of?

Maybe it was the sudden temperature increase in the room, or maybe you just wanted to make a good impression after an hour and a half of bossing him around (what were you even thinking?) but you found yourself agreeing with him. "Yeah, maybe you're right."

That night, the party was in full swing. The hotel's residents and some other sinners who didn't hate the idea of the theme party were all gathered in the hotel's lobby.

Charlie was ecstatic and she was going from sinner to sinner to explain her cause and invite them to the hotel. A way less hyper Vaggie was following her around, making sure everything went smoothly.

Alastor was still nowhere in sight, maybe hanging out with his friend named Rosie; while Nifty was going around chasing with a knife two bugs she found banging. They weren't going to have a good Valentine's day.

You were sitting at the bar next to Angel Dust, who was happily chatting away with you and Husker.

Lucifer was nowhere to be seen; he had appeared just before the beginning of the party, proudly showing you "his latest creation". A pink rubber duck with a bow and a small red hat resembling his own was pushed in front of your face. "It's a backflipping duck who also spits fire, and it's Valentine's day themed!" He grinned at you.

"That's remarkable" you had said and placed it on the bar counter, away from prying hands that could use it for who knows what.

"This was such a great idea y/n! We should do this every year!" an excited Charlie appeared behind you. "My dad is gonna be back soon, but I have to say you two did a really good job with the place." She patted you on the back and went back to chasing sinners.

"Yeah, what prompted you to do that?" Husk asked from behind the bar. You looked at the drink in your hand and shrugged. "I was bored"

Angel Dust snickered from next to you. "Our little y/n watched too many romantic comedies and thought they would hit it off with short king and maybe go at it or-"

"Woah" you chocked on air while Husk hid a smirk pretending to wipe the counter. "Angel, what the fuck?" You looked around to make sure no one important was listening in on your conversation.

"You didn't say no" he laughed, throwing his head back while Husk was pretending to swipe the floor where a couple of the red hearts had fallen. He was so close to the mistletoe.

"Because I don't need to, you'd have to be crazy to think you can bag the king of hell of all people" you hiss while trying to think of a way to get Angel there too.

"Darling, his wife left years ago, and he clearly hasn't gotten it on with anyone yet; don't sell yourself short." You took the duck you had put away and pretended to throw it at him. Only you accidentally pressed it, and actual flames started to shoot out from its mouth, causing Angel to jump back and land on the floor right next to Husk!

Your eyes went wide, and you dropped the duck to the floor. "Shit, I'm so sorry"

"Oh wow, he fell right under it" a new voice added.

Lucifer was right behind you and sent you an amused but also slightly confused smirk. Did he think you tried to kill one of your friends to get him under the mistletoe? Well, no shit he disliked sinners.

"Under what?" Angel started massaging his ass cheeks, you winced a little, thinking the impact of landing on the hard floor must have hurt him.

"Oh, y/n didn't tell you? We put mistletoe right there" he pointed at the exact spot. Now you were starting to rethink this whole plan, but it was already too late, so you had no choice but to push through.

"You know the tradition, right?" Husk shot you an unimpressed look while Angel was still on the floor.

"C'mon, it's not like you have to make out like them" you pointed at two sinners who were getting it on in a corner ever since they stepped into the party. You couldn't really blame them, wasn't that the spirit of the festivity anyway? Any kind of love was supposedly appreciated.

Then something amazing actually happened: Husk took Angel's hand in his, kissed it lightly, and pulled a blushing version of the spider to his feet.

Considering the way they had been dancing around each other for months, this was a huge accomplishment, and it was all thanks to you! At that point, you were too busy mentally giving yourself a pat on the back for the good job to fully pay attention to something that resembled Charlie's squealing coming from the back of the room. Did she have a radar or something?

When you met Husk's eyes the next second, though, you knew you had to get out of there and fast or you were done for. "Happy Valentine's day" you winked at them before sprinting like the coward you were to the other side of the lobby, leaving Lucifer and his little pink duck to handle the consequences.

Realistically, Husk and Angel combined couldn't hurt him even if they tried really hard, so you weren't too worried for him, and the duck had demonstrated she could defend herself quite efficiently.

As the party drew to a close, Charlie had roped you all into helping to clean up the place. You were busy taking down the bar decorations, carefully putting them in a box to store them for the following year, when you felt someone come up behind you.

You turned around and saw Angel dust with a handful of the white and pink paper flowers. He was headed right for the box on the counter, not looking at you.

"Hey, I'm sorry about earlier, I didn't mean for it to happen the way it did. You shouldn't have gotten hurt." You kept your eyes on the garlands, refusing to meet his eyes.

"No hard feelings toots, but next time I'm not letting you pick the movie. And no more romantic comedies for you" you laughed as he carefully maneuvered the flowers into the box.

"Okay, I deserved that" he smiled at you. You took one of the flowers and offered it to him as a peace offering.

He took it, careful not to ruin your hard work, and pretended to swoon over it. Your friendship was gonna be okay. Surely you were even now? You even gave up rom-coms for a while.

After successfully taking all of the decorations down, you were headed to throw the mistletoe into the trash. It had fulfilled his role and caused enough chaos already.

Halfway through the path to the trash can you spotted Lucifer magically fixing some of the hotel furnishings that had been destroyed by some sinners.

He stopped when he noticed you and started heading your way. Oh no, did he find out already? You couldn't just run the other way now.

"I just spoke to Charlie, and she was really happy about the party, but something tells me the mistletoe wasn't on the list of approved decorations" he raised an eyebrow at you, weight propped on his cane.

You huffed out a breath you didn't know you were holding in and scrambled your brain for an excuse. Surely he wouldn't hate you too much? Having the king of hell against you was already bad enough, but having the king of hell against you while you had a pathetic little crush on him was even worse.

"That was a personal project" you said reluctantly, looking everywhere but at him.

"Oh, and how did this project of yours go then?" you dared to take a quick look at his face, and his amused smirk, which made him look unfairly sexy by the way, was starting to make you think he was on his own personal mission to embarrass you.

"Fairly well, if we don't consider I almost cooked and burned one of my friends to a crisp. Sick duck, by the way."

"No, she's not sick, just themed." you almost burst out laughing at that. Maybe you should tell Charlie to keep him more up to date. "But maybe next time you shouldn't meddle with the heart's matters, you'll find out it's better if things just happen naturally" oh shit, how was he hot even while lecturing you? This wasn't good. He wasn't good for your sanity.

You held up the mistletoe to take one final look at it. "Yeah, lesson learned. I was just about to throw it out."

Only, Angel Dust chose that exact moment to carry out his revenge, and you should have absolutely seen it coming, it was once again your fault, and you could only blame yourself.

"Oh wow, they're right under it. You know the tradition, right?" He mocked. Husk was right behind him, two boxes in his hands, and he was holding in a laugh. They passed right by you and left you and Lucifer alone. You were really starting to question all of the choices that brought you to that moment.

Maybe if you asked him to kill you right there and then he would be kind enough to put an end to your suffering.

"Oh, fuck me" you muttered, your eyes scanning the lobby for the closest exit. Escaping without saying goodbye to Charlie wasn't an ideal solution, but you knew she wouldn't want to see your face ever again after this.

"Won't you at least let me take you out on a date first? I am more on the old fashioned side" he grinned.

You were sure you heard him wrong. It surely was one of those cases when you mix up what the person you like says in your imagination with what they actually say in real life. Was the mistletoe also hallucinogenic? You wouldn't be surprised if it was.

"I'm sorry for Angel Dust, sometimes he just doesn't know when to shut up" You immediately lowered your arm and hid the evil little thing behind your back.

"Should I take it as a no then?" he didn't stop smiling, but it looked less sincere now.

"Wait, oh-" you scrambled for an answer that wouldn't make you look even more pathetic "I would love to, but only if you mean it, this evil thing has already caused enough chaos" you finally tossed the mistletoe into the nearest trash can.

"Darling, you forget I'm the king of hell, no little plant has authority over me" he chuckles, and you smile at him.

If either of you noticed something resembling Charlie's squealing and her being dragged away by Vaggie, you didn't say anything. You didn't even think twice when you didn't see Angel Dust and Husk returning quite yet from depositing those two boxes into the storage closet; so you liked to think that at the end of the day, both you and Lucifer were right, letting things happen on their own was good, but a little push in the right direction didn't actually hurt anyone.

And when Lucifer planted both of his hands on your face to pull you into a kiss, you thought that maybe you shouldn't have thrown away the mistletoe at all.

#hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader #lucifer magne x reader #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer morningstar x reader #husker x angel dust #huskerdust

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dyns33 · 29 days

Text

Only wastelands

I will try to do this Cooper Howard x reader in three parts, but I like the Ghoul so much, I might want to write more

People said Y/N’s neighborhood was lucky.

After a draw, they were selected to join a Vault shelter for free, if something dramatic happened one day, allowing them to survive.

Y/N had received the news with mixed feelings. She didn't want to die from a nuclear bomb, but she also didn't want to think about the possibility of a nuclear bomb falling on their heads.

There was no reason for this to happen anyway.

China and the United States had resumed peace negotiations. The war was going to end and everything would be wonderful. The vaults would then be of no use.

That day, she was washing dishes in her small kitchen. She lived alone, having left her parents who were in another state to settle near Lors Angeles.

Of course, she had first dreamed of Hollywood, and then she had been reasonable, finding a normal job, to live a normal life.

First there was the light. For a moment, she blinked, wondering if she had fainted. And looking out the window, she first saw the smoke in the distance.

Her neighbors were out, she could see them in the street which also looked towards the city center, and no doubt they were talking, but Y/N heard nothing, all her attention fixed on the smoke.

It was just smoke. She watched without being able to move as the cloud grew, before the shock wave reached her house, destroying the windows and shaking the walls.

Screams were then heard, in addition to the sirens. Falling to the ground in shock, Y/N almost didn't get up, but one of the neighbors, instead of thinking selfishly, ran to see if she was still there, helping her to get up and taking her with her to the vault.

Everything happened very quickly after that.

Y/N vaguely remembered those smiling doctors, who explained to them that everything would be fine, doing several exams before putting what they called a pipboy on them, giving them a ridiculous blue and yellow jumpsuit.

"You are now the inhabitants of Vault 8. What has just happened is a tragedy, and we are going to need you to ensure the future of humanity."

They were taken to a large room, with human-sized tubes. The doctors explained that they would be put to sleep, kept in the cold, safe, and awakened only on the day when it would be possible to go out and repopulate the Earth without it being dangerous.

No one could have known that they were not safe at all.

When Y/N opened her eyes, she had a hard time understanding what was happening. There was no light in the vault, except for the one in her crate which had just opened automatically.

Most of the boxes in front of her were open and empty. Then turning around, she discovered decomposing corpses in those that had remained closed.

Her cries of terror brought no one to come, because there was no one in the shelter, just as there were no resources, no water, no food, nothing. Because no one was supposed to survive here.

For two days, Y/N cried, not knowing what to do.

Then she decided she didn't want to die, not like that anyway, and she tried her luck outside. She didn't know how long she had slept, or what she would find, but she had to try.

Her pipboy quickly told her that the air was breathable, despite the presence of radiation in certain places. But that wasn't the most important thing for her, seeing the desert surrounding the vault.

The bombs had destroyed everything, leaving only ruins and sand. Not being stupid, Y/N moved forward cautiously, trying to stay as covered as possible, even if it was difficult with her outfit.

On her way, she encountered two-headed cows, giant cockroaches, and other horrible creatures. No humans though, and she didn't know if that was a good thing.

With war, she knew that men could be much worse than beasts. Maybe they were all dead, from the explosions or all killing each other, or maybe they were still in the other vaults.

But life always found a way, even for assholes, and Y/N was attacked by three men while she was sleeping. Real savages, who talked more about eating her than anything else, laughingly ignoring her pleas.

“Now, that’s no way to treat a woman.” someone then said, stopping them as they were about to cut open her stomach.

"We found the bitch before you, pal ! Go get your lunch somewhere else !"

"Oh, but I think I found my meal. Mistreating a lady."

“You fucking ghoul !”

Too busy trying to get away, Y/N hadn't really looked at the man who had just arrived and was shooting at her attackers. Then, still too busy recovering from her misery, she took a while to raise her head, ready to thank her savior.

He didn't really seem surprised by her terror, although he grimaced as he watched her crawl away from him. She had to put her hand over her mouth to stop screaming.

It was impossible to tell if he had been burned or peeled, but the cowboy no longer had a nose, and his skin was in a catastrophic state.

As she stared at him with wide eyes, he watched her too, his attention settling on her pipboy.

"Ah. A vaultie. I understand the screams better. Never seen a ghoul before, sweetie ? Barely coming out of your little hole ?"

"… Sorry."

"No problem, sugar. You haven't insulted me or thrown things at me yet, it's quite polite."

At first, the ghoul was not very friendly. Yes, he had saved her, but he didn't want her to follow him into the wastelands. He didn't need a burden, and even less if it was a little rich girl.

But Y/N insisted, explaining to him what had happened to her, and the man looked at her with what looked like pity, muttering that she had ended up in one of the "bad vaults".

"I don't understand. What year is it ? Why is it only me who survived ? You… Sorry, what happened to you ?"

"Hey, honey. It's been over 200 years since everything blew up, thanks to Vault Tech. I imagine you and your friends were meant to serve as a pantry or an organ bank but like all their equipment, there's had a problem, and you were very lucky not to die like the others, and since you were there when everything happened, you should be able to guess why I am like this."

The Ghoul was gentleman enough to let her cry without comment.

The world was dead, and all because of money and power. Those who had sworn to protect them had killed them all. Nothing remained but an infertile, polluted, radioactive land, where the few survivors fought between factions instead of trying to find a real solution.

"Please… Don't leave me here…"

"You know, people didn't really like guys like me. It's not a good idea, sweetheart."

“They don’t like cowboys ?”

The question made him laugh. Maybe that was why he let her follow him. Or maybe because he wasn't as bad as he wanted to make out. Surely he felt lonely too, and it was nice to have someone who had lived in the same era as him , and who didn't judge him on his appearance.

Y/N didn’t understand ghoulophibia at all. Yes, they were scary, but that was no reason to mistreat these poor people.

"Okay, we judged on lots of things before, skin color, clothes, religion, but… Now, it's as if we were pointing at a cancer patient and shouting 'Look, he's sick Insult him !”

“It’s more complicated than that, sugar.” sighed the Ghoul, taking out a sort of hynalator to swallow its contents.

He explained radioactivity and the risks for him of becoming feral when they arrived in their first city. A chance for her to stay safe with people, their paths separating quietly.

But after three fights and an attack by Deathclaws, she preferred to stay with him.

So he taught her how to survive, use weapons, hide, follow a trail, earn caps. When asked why caps and not something else, he made a noise, saying he had no fucking idea, but men still wanted something to make business instead of helping each others for free.

After several months, he gave her a name. Cooper. Cooper Howard. He groaned when she asked him if he had anything to do with the old actor who did the Vault Tech commercial.

“Thanks for the bad memories, sweetie. An autograph ?”

“No thanks, never was a fan.”

"Ouch. Not even now, with my new look ? Do you think the cameras would like me ?"

“Let’s say that you will need less makeup for certain types of films, and a bag for others.”

Cooper laughed again, smiling at her with his slightly yellow teeth. It was obvious that it had been a long time since he had laughed like that with anyone.

He told her about his daughter after a year together in the wastelands. Handing her a photo, Y/N could see him as he was before, holding the little girl in his arms. They looked happy.

As she was about to give it back to him, he told her to keep it. It was the most important thing to him, so Y/N could keep the picture safe, and she would know that he would always come for her.

She muttered that she didn't doubt it anyway, putting the photo in her bag.

It was even longer later, when she had proclaimed herself the accountant of their small group, that Y/N noticed an inconsistency between the caps earned and the number of vials Cooper had.

“You should have five more vials.”

“Sugar, leave it.”

"No, really, I counted three times. I know the price by heart, you had fifty caps on your way to town, you should have fifteen vials. Is there a problem ? Has the price changed ? You… You Are you feeling well ?”

"I'm fine, sweetie. Sleep."

“But Coop…”

“Y/N, sleep.”

In the end, the price hadn't changed, Cooper was fine, but since they met, he had been spending his caps on non-irradiated water and food. For Y/N.

This discovery was a shock to her, who often watched him drink from puddles or eat human remains.

He didn't want her to do this. For her to become like him. When teaching her how to shoot, he added that it was just in case, because she wouldn't need to fight while he was there.

And now they were arguing about food, and he was ordering her to promise that she would continue to take what he gave her without question.

"You don't drink that dirty shit. You hear me, sugar ? Can you promise me ? You'll never drink that."

"… All right."

Their relationship was complicated. Cooper had probably told her everything, and yet he kept a distance. He didn't like her touching him, patting his shoulder or snuggling up to him to sleep.

Maybe he was afraid of making her sick. Maybe he thought she would rot on contact with him, and not just her skin.

Y/N really liked him anyway. They were both over 200 years old, even though she had been frozen during that time. They had spent a lot of time together. And even if she was still a little dizzy by his lack of nose, it wasn't the most important thing in a man.

It would have been two years when the raiders attacked. Far too many, so Cooper yelled at Y/N to run, to hide far away. He would come get her later.

Several days passed, and nothing. She was good at hiding, he had shown her, so it was possible that Cooper hadn't found her because she had become too good.

So she returned to the town where he came from, to at least find some informations. People did not easily forget the passage of The Ghoul.

But she didn't have to ask. She saw him in the bar, drinking and chatting with several guys.

Silent, discreet as a shadow, she came close enough to hear, thinking that he was in the middle of an business, and that she could surprise him when he finished with a beautiful reunion.

“You really don’t know where she is, Ghoul ?”

"Nah. Look guys, I know she was a real lil puppy that followed me everywhere, but I finally got rid of her, so I don't really care where she is. Not my problem. It was fun at first, but good riddance.”

She had seen the bomb fall, she had seen the bodies of her neighbors, but Y/N had never felt so bad as in that moment. She could feel her heart breaking in her chest, as Cooper and the others laughed together, mocking her.

Once, he had said that she should never trust anyone. It was an important rule to survive. But Y/N never believed that rule would include him.

With her bag and her weapon, she ran into the night, alone in the middle of the wasteland for the first time since she left her vault, and completely unaware of what she was going to do.

Only one thing was certain, she would never see Cooper Howard again.

#fallout #the ghoul #cooper howard #cooper howard imagine #cooper howard fanfiction #cooper howard x reader

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cy-lindric · 14 days

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I wanted to vent, but also ask an honest question. Since I was a teenager, I always wanted to work on character design. And one thing that always caught my attention was how I always preferred male character designs over female ones. My first thought was that I was always more into androgynous fashion and more masculine styles. But time passed and I came to the conclusion that it wasn't just that, and it seems that male characters can always be different things: fat, thin, handsome, ugly, short, tall, young, old, etc. and female characters, for the most part, fall into two categories: cute or sexy. I wanted some tips on how I can make female characters with more interesting designs, without having to fall into those two categories. I love your work and you managed to make someone else like the three musketeers <3<3

Hello ! That's definitely a good question and something I think about a lot. The bias towards beauty is very strong in character design and it takes a conscious effort to diversify output in that regard.

That sort of advice might be a bit obvious, but one habit I picked up from the director on my first feature film gig was to actually "cast" characters. Without reference, we tend to go for the kind of symmetrical face and "average" features mostly out of stylistic habit. I like to look at character actors with distinct faces (I like this pinterest page that has a lot of faces in one place) but also just acquaintances or pictures of random crowds.

When designing a character, at first I'm always building a big reference board trying to decide what Type of Guy (gender neutral) I'm going for, trying use photos rather than other people's art, because I want to rely on automatics and graphic symbols as little as possible. Whether I'm designing a man or a woman or other, I use references of fashion styles and people across the board in terms of gender so I keep the scope open. Sometimes a character ref board for me will be a picture of one of my aunts next to a bunch of screenshots of Columbo. In my experience, a lot of the times, it's mostly about going with styles and archetypes the same way you would for a male character, and switching it up somewhere along the way by looking at real women in your life and beyond as a grounding mechanism. Sometimes that will mean changing almost nothing, because the borders between genders and how you characterize them is blurry and fluid, and sometimes it will mean using features that are uniquely tied to some sort of female experience.

I enjoy realism and I think getting more proficient at it did help me diversify my designs (I find that more difficult to do with more minimalistic styles). Still, I am mostly a fantasy artist and in my case that comes with some amount of stylization and idealization of shapes and looks. I'm far from perfect in my biases and I'm not going out of my way to draw "ugly" characters because that doesn't mean much to me ; I try to draw inspiration from the faces of every day people and I associate it with my love for fashion. It's also worth noting the work I post here for fun is a lot more hash tag aesthetic than the stuff I do professionally where diversity is much more important.

I don't know if any of that is relevant but that's definitely an interesting topic ! I'd love to know others' perspective and tips on the matter.

#replies #txt #theinvisiblescanner #character design

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hotheadedhero · 17 days

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Like 'em Big

AN: I have so many stories to write but I had to do this. Blaming being sick, m'kay? Fever has got me bad and these meds got me loopy. Thinking we need some good, silly fun in our lives, right? Plus, now that I've watched Rise, I'm hungry for some big Raph appreciation. I know I ain't the only one

All characters are aged up

Raphael x Reader

Warnings: near peril, easily smitten, possible errors due to fever (what kind of fever is up for deliberation🥴)

Cutting right to the chase. You like big dudes. That doesn't necessarily mean muscles, either. You just love you a big man - someone with a bit of something-something to them. More to love, you know? Given your track record with the greater world, it shouldn't be all that much of a mystery. Cats? Get yourself a tiger that you can cuddle into. Jumpers? Comfort central, baby. Beds? If you can't spread eagle then you see no point. The old-age saying does declare that the bigger the better, so who are you to disagree? How true that is may be up for debate but it’s merely as simple as understanding what your preferences are.

However, this makes dating a difficult ballpark to play in. No matter how tall, jacked, or voluptuous someone is, it never feels like enough. Human biology and genetics can only go so far in the conceivably possible sense. You just want to be absolutely engulfed when you get a hug. Is that such a crime? Apparently, it is. Unfortunately, you also seem to come across the worst jerks when you attempt to date within this set of criteria. One might argue it's your karmic justice for being so superficial and picky but a woman has needs. Not those kinds of needs, either. Get your head out of the gutter.

All hope seems lost and after yet again, another failed date, you decide to call it in for the evening and make your way home. A fresh failure and another wonderful outfit gone to waste. By no means is it anything flashy but you put a lot of work into it: pencil skirt, turtle neck sweater, and a nice pair of boots to compliment the look. The whole shebang! All of that effort for nothing. This is the last time you spend three hours doing your hair and makeup. Block after block, your feet grow heavier with every step. What you would give to come across a mountain-like man you can climb who is also a kindred spirit. Perhaps this dream guy will forever be that - a dream. Men like that don't just fall out of the sky.

"Look out!!"

The sudden shout almost scares you into tripping over and you look behind yourself, wishing you hadn’t. Two very large, very dangerous-looking figures entangled in battle, those of which are approaching your helpless little self. You quickly duck as the giants hurdle over you. One falls on its side whilst the other claws and skids against the ground, regaining its balance. It shakes its head and locks onto you, a guttural snarl rumbling past its jowls. Such a creature is surely from the stuff of nightmares. An indescribable nightmare whose sights are set on you. The smart option would be running away but it's as though your shoes have melted into the pavement. Pawing into the tarmac, the beastly thing growls and lunges for you. Great. This is how you die: torn limb from limb by a demon dog. Well, assuming your clothes join you, at least you’ll look like a total babe in the afterlife.

"Oh no ya’ don't," the other one yells from behind the predator, grabbing it by its tail. “Pretty ladies are not food!”

With a mighty tug, he pulls it back and swings it as far away from you as possible. You release a shaky breath, legs trembling beneath you. That was far too close for comfort. The fight isn’t quite over, however. Just as it approaches him, the green goliath swivels on his feet, full 180, and whacks the creature's jaw with a closed fist. His speed alone has you in awe but the force is astounding, practically earth-shattering. It completely knocks the air around you and pushes you onto your backside.

When the dust clears, the first thing you see is your saviour panting, his spiky shell(?) pointed towards you. Just past him in the distance, you notice three more figures in blue, purple, and orange taking a closer look at the unconscious tyrant. You swear one of them pokes at it with a stick. Witnessing strange beings such as this isn't entirely new. Anyone who's watched Chateau Pretenche knows about the celebrity chef turning into a grotesque pigman. To describe it in one word? Horrifying. It's just whether people choose to believe it genuinely happened or if these bizarre entities exist. Being up close and personally observing it now puts your scepticism in check.

As the humanoid turtle calms, he turns to face you, recapturing your attention. A red mask sits over his eyes and there’s a noticeable snaggle tooth poking past his upper lip. Typically, the prerogative is keeping out of sight but it’s much too late for that. He gradually advances towards you. You watch him warily and he keeps his movements slow for that very reason. It wouldn’t be a shock if you were to try and make an escape. He wouldn’t blame you. Currently, all he wants to do is make sure you weren’t hurt during that fiasco provided you don’t suddenly come out of your bewilderment and run off. You have good reason to but he just saved you. Either that or he’s as ravenous as that beast and wants you all to himself. The irrational conclusion remains as such - irrational - when he descends to one knee and outstretches a hand. There’s an irrefutable kindness in his eyes; a caring nature that can’t be replicated in the face of savage brutes.

"You okay?" he asks.

You continue to gawk without a word but, bit by bit, you reach out for his offer. Your fingers lightly trace the centre of his palm before comfortably trusting the proposal. His hand engulfs yours completely and Raph hopes to mercy that you don’t realise how sweaty he’s getting. He can feel his heart beating like crazy. He wonders how much of that is the adrenaline from the fight and how much of it is being in the presence of such a beautiful gal. As he helps you to your feet, he rises to his own. Someone of his stature shouldn’t be capable of being this delicate but he is. It has you running through a loop and you unintentionally stare at the remarkable behemoth.

Quite pathetically, you nod, unable to verbally respond to his question. How can you? You are effectively starstruck. Once you gloss over the turtle-y features, all you see is the sheer size of him as he towers over you. Height, width, the magnitude of those arms! All of it is glorious. You can hear the universe asking, “You want a big man, huh? How about one who isn’t human?” to which you answer, “Who gives a damn?”. If the only way a man can be this big is not to be human, so be it.

Amidst a whisper, your mouth moves on its own, "You're beautiful."

"What?"

"Huh?" Blinking out of your trance, you realise what you’ve said and giggle sheepishly, "I mean, you're be... ba... booming! Totally awesome with the whole- uh... saving thing." Nailed it.

He blinks right back down at you. This is certainly a first. He can feel his face heating up and he withdraws his hand lest you endure the wrath of his bashfulness, opting to hold the back of his head. At this moment, he seems to look anywhere but you.

"Heh. Gee, thanks." His humility is adorable and you’re glad he doesn’t question your initial statement. He turns to you once more, regaining some composure. "You sure you're okay, though? That thing was pretty scary looking."

It’s clear that you haven’t sustained any physical injuries but even bearing witness to something so unsightly can have lasting effects on one's mind. His brows furrow gently in concern down at you and it occurs to you that there’s a soft heart under all of that shell and muscle. Bonus points. This makes you smile for the first time in front of him and Raphael is sure that the streetlights got brighter.

You laugh fondly, “Yeah, I’m okay. Thank you.” Twiddling your fingers, your lips purse up in his direction. “Is there any way I can repay you?”

He places his hands on his hips and chuckles cutely, “Just doing my duty, ma’am.”

He may be indulging in his alter ego - the Red Angel of Preventing Harm - but it’s not every day he gets paid thanks when he saves someone. It’s also not every day he gets to save such a pretty woman, either. You, however, can’t just leave it at that. There must be some way in which you can properly thank him. Ulterior motives include getting to know this already loveable lug better but shh. It feels like the odds are finally turning in your favour and you won’t let this slip away from your grasp. That’s when it hits you.

Muttering under your breath, you erratically search through the confines of your little handbag. You are certain that you had one in here somewhere. In the spare pocket maybe? Ah! Found it. Fumbling to take the lid off of your pen, you hold out your hand, gesturing for his. He slowly complies, to which you jot down a series of digits on his palm accompanied by your name and a tiny 'x'.

"Gimme a text sometime," is the last thing he hears before you disappear around a corner.

Oh? Oh. Ohhh. Wow. Getting your number is the last thing he expected. Did he get hit on the head during that scuffle or something? Was everything from the last few minutes a dream? He bores holes into the writing on his skin, scanning it over and over, scared that it’ll disappear if he so much as blinks. A dumb, wobbly smile not so gracefully decorates his lips as he trudges back to the turtle tank. He takes his seat but it’s obvious that he isn’t all there. Being so caught up in his rose-tinted bubble, he doesn’t register his brothers' voices. In an effort to gain his attention, Michelangelo jumps onto his shoulder, partly intrigued by what their leader is so absorbed by.

"Oh me gosh!” the young brother screams in shrill excitement, “Raph's in love!"

Careful not to smudge the neat ink, he’s quick to hide his hand against his chest. "That's crazy talk!”

Donatello sniffs the air and mockingly covers his nose. "The overwhelming manifestation of your nervous stink indicates otherwise, dear brother."

"I got a girl’s number!” he continues to defend, feeling his face go all kinds of red. “'Course, I'm nervous but that don’t mean I’m in love."

Lies and slander. It was practically love at first sight. He just doesn’t like the idea of his brothers knowing that. It’s easy pickings to be made fun of.

"Don't worry, Big Red. Lucky for you, you got a guy who knows all about the charm." Leonardo points both thumbs at himself as he falls back into his seat and props his legs up on the dashboard. "First, you just need to..."

The "helpful" advice drowns out as the large snapper opens and gazes at his palm again. He just can't comprehend how a gorgeous individual such as yourself could take one look at him and give him your number. It's puzzling but he supposes there’s a first for everything? That also doesn't mean he won't text you. The only thing getting in the way of that is fear. Raphael thinks he’d rather go toe-to-toe with that mutant dog again than have to face the risk of embarrassing himself. To anyone who knows him, it’s no surprise that he caves under pressure. No. He will do it! A chance like this is one in a million.

Oh boy. What could possibly go wrong?

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yawnderu · 4 months

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Lamb of God — Nikto x Medic!Reader | Part I

Shot, stabbed, beaten... Mikhail has been through hell countless times, yet no amount of training or experience from years in Spetsnaz could ever prepare him for what Victor Zakhaev did to him. 8 missing nails, multiple new wounds on his already scarred body, and a face so disfigured he could no longer recognize himself— not only was his body broken, but so was his psyche.

His first visit was with the medics, wounds in desperate need of cleaning even with infection starting to set in most of them, the chemical burns on his face already blistering and itching despite being scolded by the medic multiple times for scratching himself. He was a difficult patient to say the least— not wanting anyone to touch his injuries or even look at him, only accepting treatment from the only person who dared confront him.

“'Stop that.” Your request comes in a sharp tone, not wanting him to itch his blistering injuries and make the scarring worse than what you knew it would be. A mumbled ''don't tell me what to do'' makes its way to your ears, though you decide to ignore it when he puts his hands way, adhesive bandages decorating his fingers where the nails had been ripped off.

“Sit up for me.” The man is an aggressive dog that defends himself with fangs bared, yet he somehow listens to your commands— even when he scoffs or grumbles before finally doing what you ask. Your gloved hand goes to his chin as you examine the red skin on his face, noting it was washed when he was first rescued, no residue of the acid left. He mumbles something and you raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to repeat himself.

“Is it gross?” His deep voice asks, accent even rougher with the raw emotion he's feeling. He knows for a fact it's gross, he saw it himself— he has blisters covering over half of his face, still remembering the acid dripping down his face from Zakhaev simply wanting to cause him pain.

“I've seen worse— at least you still have a face.” Being a medic for the military allowed you to see both human cruelty, and the extends injuries could go. You've seen multiple soldiers missing their face, skin pulled and bones poking out of their bodies— Mikhail's injuries aren't the worst you've seen, not even close.

“Your nose doesn't look too weird either, even when I was told it was broken. Your eyes still work, all your limbs are still attached... you'll recover from everything in no time.” You try to keep a positive attitude despite the way his baby blue eyes are staring holes into your head, pupils looking tiny despite the dim light in the room.

“I'm mostly worried about what's going on here.” You tap his head softly and he doesn't take long on pushing your hand away softly, a small smile making way to your lips when you notice how he avoids eye contact for a second before he's back to staring at you. You stare back for a while, trying to decipher what he's feeling before going to grab a cloth, filling a small bucket with cold water and making your way back to him.

“This might hurt a little bit, let me know if you want me to stop and we can take a break.” He looks down at the bucket of water and the cloth you're dipping in, squeezing the excess water as you wait for his approval. He gives you a nod in affirmation, flinching slightly as the cold cloth makes contact with his face. It doesn't hurt as much as he imagined— if anything, it feels almost soothing, the previous ache and itchiness disappearing even if only for a very short while.

“Заканчивай быстрее с этой хернëй.” He mutters under his breath despite how good it actually feels on his injuries, not wanting to get any pity from you.

“Be patient.” It almost feels like he's getting scolded by his nana, faint memories of the old woman cleaning his scrapped knees come to mind, holding onto them to try and stop the bad thoughts from flooding his damaged brain.

“Mikhail.” Your soft voice slowly brings him back to reality, feeling an odd sensation all over his face. His hand goes up to feel his cheeks, only now realizing that you already dressed his wounds. He looks utterly confused, not even remembering you getting gauze, everything happening too suddenly. Now that he thinks about it, he doesn't remember most of the heli flight back home, too busy thinking about... what was he even thinking about?

“Mikhail.” You repeat, one of your gloved hands going to his shoulder in attempts to make him look at you. He's still staring blankly at the floor, just as he has been doing for the past 20 minutes, not responding to his own name.

“Quiet, I hear enough voices.” He brushes you off, finally getting up from the medical bed and quickly leaving your office despite the small limp from the beatings he took for days.

He hears voices? His next stop will have to be with the provided psychiatrist once his body recovers a little bit to test if he's still fit to be part of Spetsnaz, leaving your heart filled with worry until you move onto the next patient, making a mental note to check on him later.

A/N: Mikhail is Nikto's name in this fic, the person he used to be before turning into Никто.

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f1byjessie · 2 months

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A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part twelve.

The first coherent thing you say the morning after, as you tug your sweatshirt back over your head and resolutely ignore the sculpted planes of Lando’s abdomen while he lounges in bed and watches you, is: “This can never happen again.”

He makes an inquisitive sound. “Can this maybe wait until I’m actually awake?”

You look over your shoulder just in time to catch him yawning into his elbow, and for half a second find the drowsiness to be endearing━ the way his knuckles rub languidly at his half-lidded eyes, his scratchy morning voice, and the wild case of bedhead that’s got his curls sticking up in every direction. It’s only when your gaze finds and latches onto the dark bruise sucked onto his collarbone that you remember you can’t be entertaining this anymore than you already have, adorable sleepy morning habits be damned.

“Lando.”

At his name, he opens his eyes again and meets your stare.

“This━” you gesture between yourself and him, “━can never happen again.”

You do feel sympathetic for trying to have what’s intended to be a serious conversation so early in the morning, especially when he’d really only been woken up by you practically throwing yourself out of bed, but the gravity of the situation had slammed into you the moment you’d opened your eyes to see his peacefully slumbering face across from yours.

There isn’t actually a clause in your contract that forbids you from entering a romantic relationship with anyone else on the team━ technically, there aren’t any mentions at all about anti-fraternization rules━ but just the thought of how badly this could fuck things up for the both of you has you preemptively planning to take an ibuprofen or two the minute you make it back to your own hotel room in preparation for the nasty headache you’re sure to get.

Firable offenses aside, McLaren could just as easily cite some other reason to decide not to renew your contract at the end of the year if they deem the “partnership” between you and Lando to be too detrimental to his performance ability. You might be a good photographer, but Lando’s a great driver and he’s certainly more valuable to the team than you are. He’s a one of a kind, and you’re one of plenty in a market saturated with young talents desperate for a chance to make it big.

On top of that, you’re not even sure how ethical it is to sleep with your coworker, all things considered. It’s your job to follow him around every week and take pictures that you plaster all over social media. You’ve already gotten a glimpse of how difficult things can be in the midst of an argument, but if things turn serious━ assuming, of course, that Lando is after something serious and that this isn’t just a bit of fun meant to keep him entertained with the added convenience that you’ll be traveling with him for the foreseeable future━ what sort of added ramifications would an argument have then? You’re not sure the professionalism the two of you have managed the last few weeks prior to making up would be able to survive a messy breakup.

“You’re spiralling,” he comments, sliding out from beneath the covers of the bed. He’s very nonchalant about his nakedness.

You avert your eyes.

“So maybe it’s morally grey territory,” he continues, leisurely collecting his clothes from where they wound up strewn across the floor after being discarded amidst the night’s activities. “But we’re both consenting adults━” he tugs his sweatpants back on, “━and so long as we both stay consenting adults I don’t see what the problem is. I don’t really have any plans to be magically turned into a baby anytime soon. Unless you did?”

You stare at him incredulously, ignoring the fact that he’s still shirtless and now that he’s standing and facing you it gives a clear view of all the hickeys painted across his skin. Hickeys that you left there, and that you can remember leaving there despite attempting to shove the memories down and forget them.

He stares right back.

“In case you suddenly forgot, I’m supposed to be in a committed and exclusive relationship with someone else,” you hiss.

“Yeah, but it’s not real. You aren’t actually dating him,” he answers back with a shrug. “It’s a PR stunt, you said.”

You don’t actually care about Garrett Ward or the fake claim of faithfulness between the two of you. If there weren’t guaranteed to be nasty consequences for you, you’d let the staged relationship crash and burn in a blaze of vengeful glory. But that’s exactly what’s stopping you━ the consequences. It isn’t just your reputation on the line like it would be if you were some no-name fan who somehow managed to score lucky. If you go down, your career goes with you and that also means waving goodbye to Lando and Formula One as a whole.

Even if you managed a miracle and didn’t lose your job, the media would not look favorably upon you. At best, there would be a smattering of fans from people like Jack and Lando speaking up on your behalf who would defend you for a month or two, maybe a media outlet with a more present stance on women in sports would try to lessen the blow if the right people said the right thing. But the reality is that you could sit down and regale the whole story about Garrett’s blackmail━ starting from the very first call asking you to dinner and detailing the proof of his threats and manipulation━ and there would still be people out there painting you as the villain in his story.

You’d be designated another “bitch” who ruined the career of a perfectly good athlete, and they’d speculate into your motives, into why you chose to tear him down. It would discredit the actual wrongness of Garrett’s own actions and instead pin the blame on you and your jealousy. Or, whatever else they’d attribute it to.

So no, you don’t care about Garrett Ward or his rotten excuse for a heart. His feelings can go fuck themselves for all you care. But even still…

“The public doesn’t know that, Lando,” you start to explain. “I can’t be seen with you because, fake or not, do you know how horribly it would end for me if I were painted as some adulterous slut? They already tore me to pieces just because I was with him in the first place, can you imagine how bad it would be if it got out that I’d supposedly cheated on him? Do you know how much meaner these people would get if they somehow believed they’d been proven right about me? That the things they were saying were right all along?”

He’s silent now.

“There’s a reason I haven’t tried to get myself out of this situation already,” you continue, beginning to pace the length of the hotel room. “Like I told you yesterday, even if he makes his claims and I manage to prove him wrong, the damage to my reputation would ruin me. I’m lucky that I had McLaren to come back to and that’s what made it easier to push back on his demands, but can you imagine if I didn’t have anything lined up after that City gig? I would’ve been even more desperate to get any sort of work and Garrett absolutely would’ve capitalized on that. And I can’t keep banking on the fact that McLaren will save the day because what if one day they don’t?”

Lando crosses the distance between you and rests his hands on your shoulders, bringing your harried pacing to a stop. He looks like he’s about to give you a pep talk, and the absurdity of the thought is almost enough to make you forget about the seriousness of this entire situation and laugh. Almost. You are, unfortunately, still painfully aware of the line you’re now walking and how terrifyingly thin it is.

“McLaren would never get rid of you, so you don’t have to worry about that,” he says after a moment.

“You don’t know that,” you tell him, shaking your head and pulling free from his grasp to resume your nervous treading in another section of the room. “You can’t know that. Honestly, the backlash this could have would probably be enough to get McLaren to fire me on the spot. If not immediately, then there’d at least be enough harassment from Garrett’s fans for them to eventually decide letting me go would be the best course of action for the sake of their own reputation.”

He crosses the distance between you again, and this time pulls you into his arms entirely. He’s still warm from being beneath the covers and you soak up the comfort as much as he’s allowing you to, burying your face into the crook of his neck and reciprocating his hug by wrapping your own arms around him and grabbing at the back of his shirt.

“Obviously, this is something you’ve thought about a lot,” he starts, running his fingers up and down your back soothingly. “And it clearly stresses you out. But I really like you, Y/N. Honestly, it’s embarrassing. I’ve fancied you since I met you. You walked in and it was like one of those dumb romcoms you’ve made me watch. I just… I just knew. And I wanted you to like me, too.”

You hum in acknowledgement and sag deeper into him, clutching tighter at his shirt. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Because you hated me,” he answers simply with a tiny shrug. “Or, at least, I thought you did. And then you didn’t, but we were still so new to being friends that I didn’t want to do anything to fuck it up. I got so anxious thinking about what would happen if we broke up. It would ruin the friendship, but it would also potentially ruin your career if we couldn’t both do our job and I didn’t want to fuck that up for you. So, I was content to just have you close, honestly. That was enough.”

“Until it wasn’t?”

He sighs. You feel the rise and fall of his chest more than you actually hear it. “Garrett Ward is a raging prick and I stand by all the things I’ve said about him, but maybe some of it was influenced by me thinking he’d taken you away from me. And, when I called you that night piss drunk at Daniel’s, I was projecting the anger I felt towards myself onto the people around me. I didn’t take any risks, and because of that I was convinced that I’d lost you in every way that mattered.”

He holds you a bit tighter, “And we know how I handled that.” It’s quiet and he sounds miserable. You pull back just enough to see him looking piteously out the window, a pained look painted across his features.

You release your hold on his shirt and trail your hands across his body until you can grab his face and turn his gaze back on you.

When he’s staring into your eyes, you say, “I want this, Lando. You and me. I really do, I promise. But I can’t.”

His face falls. “If you let his influence over you control every aspect of your life, then hasn’t he already won? He’s gotten what he wanted. He doesn’t need you to be desperate for a job, because he has control over you anyway.”

If it were said in any other context or by any other person, you’d bristle at the accusation that you’re letting Garrett take whatever he wants without at least attempting to put up a fight. You’ve pushed back where you can, where it’s safest, but you have to prioritize your livelihood too and if that means asking how high when he says jump, you’ll do what you must. Not that it feels good to bend to the whims of a man who gets what he wants through fear.

“I just mean━” he hurries to correct himself, as if sensing you offense, “━you shouldn’t have to sacrifice everything that brings you joy just because you’re afraid of what he might do or how the media will perceive it due to his presence in your life. You have every reason to be hesitant to fight back against the power he holds over you, you just shouldn’t have to be.”

You pull him back in and sink into his arms again, pressing your face into his chest to hide the shine of tears in your eyes.

“I can’t promise that there won’t be backlash,” he continues. “But I can tell you that McLaren will stand behind you. I’ll make sure of it. And if they don’t, I’ll walk.” He says it likes it’s nothing━ like he isn’t saying he’ll give up everything he’s worked for just for you. “I can get you a really nice lawyer, too. If you’d want one. Or, you know, if you’d want to come out about what all Ward’s done.”

The idea sounds impossible and yet it’s so close━ close enough that Lando is practically offering it to you on a silver platter. The idea of just coming out with it all and exposing the horrible things Garrett has done. You know on top of Lando’s support, Jack and the other Manchester City boys would side with you, too, and the other members of the team behind the scenes who you worked closely with throughout your time at Etihad Campus. It’s a lot of people, and by proxy you’d probably have a large amount of their fanbase as well.

It seems too good to be true.

But Lando’s offering you the chance to make it a reality.

“I’m supposed to still be mad at you right now,” you mumble into his shirt.

He huffs out a laugh, “Being mad at someone and being in love with them aren’t mutually exclusive feelings.”

“Who said anything about being in love with you?” You tease, though you’re practically melted into his arms.

“I mean,” he starts, and just from the sound of his voice you can tell he’s about to say something stupid and cheeky and it’ll make you want to slap him upside the head. “The way you treated me last night kind of implies that you at least like me pretty seriously.”

You groan in feigned annoyance, pulling away from him just in time to catch the dazzling grin splitting his face. It’s a beautiful sight that you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of no matter how many times you see it. You recall the caption of a post made what feels like ages ago, but the words ring just as true now as they did then, and you stand by them. A smiley Lando is the best Lando.

“If we’re really doing this,” you start, somberly after another moment, “we have to be careful. Like, really careful. No PDA in public. No PDA anywhere unless we know for a fact that we’re alone and there aren’t any cameras. And no telling anyone unless we absolutely have to for health or security reasons, or something. We can’t have this blow up on us, because if they catch you you’ll be just as much of a target for the hate and I will not have you get caught in the crossfire with this, Lando.”

He finagles around a bit until your hands are held in his and he’s pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “I promise,” he whispers against your skin.

It feels like the start of something perfect.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by user, user, and 561,816 others

footballfansofficial BREAKING: Manchester City Forward Garrett Ward, a victim of infidelity?! Ward and his girlfriend Y/N L/N first revealed their romance to the world on the 5th of January. Since then, they’ve regularly shared photos of one another across the social media platform Instagram, and have been sighted on dates around Manchester and London. Though the couple have not recently shared any new posts of one another, fans believed this was due to schedule differences, as nothing has been said to indicate an end to their relationship. With the Champions League back in full swing, Ward has been constricted to a busy schedule of matches in Europe, and similarly as a photographer for Formula One team McLaren, L/N has been traveling across the globe. However, she’s apparently more than just friends with McLaren driver Lando Norris! Pictures from the 24th of March at the Australian Grand Prix in Melbourne reveal L/N and Norris sharing an intimate moment. Check the link in our bio for the full article!

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user oh… that’s not….

user that is NOT garrett ward for sure 🫢🫢

user honestly a cheating scandal was not on my 2024 bingo card

↳ user i mean i’m not surprised but i definitely thought of the two of them it would be ward tbh 👀

user WHAT DID WE FUCKING SAY

↳ user WE ALL SAW THIS FROM A MILE AWAY

user fucking slag 🙄

user ugh!!! us REAL garrett ward fans KNEW this would happen but everyone called us crazy!!! 😠😠 he deserves someone who ACTUALLY cares about him and we knew from the beginning that she wasn’t it!! honestly just the thought that anyone could POSSIBLY do this is SICKENING!!! garrett is such a loving person and he deserves the WORLD!! i hope he doesn’t let this stop him from finding REAL love some day!! 🥺🥺🫶🫶

↳ user ikr?!?! it’s so not fair that he’d choose her when she’d just use and abuse him when he has so many loyal fans that would treat him so much better and would actually love him and all he has to offer. she totally must’ve manipulated him or something!!

user damn… i wasn't l/n’s biggest fan in the beginning but i kinda hoped she’d prove me wrong… yet here we are…

user this is seriously so disappointing to see

user SLUT 🤬 SLUT 🤬 SLUT 🤬

user long distance is not an excuse to cheat and this is such a horrible thing to do to a partner. garrett ward has been exceptionally nice to her, and this is what she gives in return? so many ppl tried to warn him about her closeness to lando norris too. i’m disappointed but not surprised that this was the result. girls like this truly have no shame and no dignity. they don’t know loyalty at all.

↳ user we tried to warn him and this is what happens? like we tried, but you ignored us and called us crazy. make it make sense 😮‍💨

↳ user the fact that he was genuinely so sweet by taking her on dates and posting her on his socials and she turns around and stabs him in the back like this… my heart hurts for how upset he must be right now. and honestly, this lando norris guy is just as much to blame for garrett’s pain too.

↳ user i’m willing to give norris the benefit of the doubt if only because we’ve seen girls like this before who manipulate athletes into giving her what she wants and if they don’t then they move onto the next. obviously ward wasn’t going to just roll over for her every whim, so now she’s moving onto the next guy and is trying to manipulate him the same way she did ward. norris is as much of a victim as ward is.

user WHORE BEHAVIOUR I CALLED IT FROM THE GET GO GUYS

user she really said “hold my beer” and went to go prove us all right about our initial assumptions 👀👀

user knew i should’ve trusted my instincts when they told me she was bad news…

user AINT NO WAY INFAMOUS WOMANIZER GARRETT WARD, AS IN NOTORIOUS CHEATER GARRETT WARD, GOT CHEATED ON BY THE FIRST GIRL HE WAS IN A SERIOUS COMMITTED RELATIONSHIP WITH 😂

user lowkey had high hopes for them bc i gen thought ward garrett was changing his ways and was trying to settle down

↳ user me toooooooo i thought she was gonna be a good influence on him 😔

user can you blame her tho?? you try moaning “garrett” in bed and see how that goes for you

user just because they haven’t said anything about ending their relationship doesn’t mean they haven’t ended it privately! honestly who are we to judge them for not telling the public every detail about their personal lives? this was obviously not a moment intended for us to see and was meant to be shared between l/n and norris, and i honestly find this account in general to be incredibly invasive as most if not all of the photographs the articles are written about are from paparazzi and look as though they were taken without the consent or knowledge of the people in them.

↳ user THANK YOU!! 🙏 i’ve been trying to say that for so long!! speculation is so dangerous and harmful to the very real people that are involved and it can have consequences on them and their careers. these pictures do look very damning, but we’re lacking context into l/n and ward’s lives and we shouldn’t judge anyone involved in this before we have the full story. for all we know, the relationship was ended and this is l/n’s new partner, in which case we should be respectful of her choices to be with someone else and should also respect their privacy and take into consideration the fact that there was probably a reason her and ward didn’t announce a split.

↳ user the only comment of sense on this entire post. istg, some of these ppl just have too much time on their hands and spend it all worrying about the love lives of celebrities that don’t even know they exist. y/n and garrett are both adults and can make decisions for themselves without needing the support or backing of people who don’t actually know anything about them beyond the persona they put on for the public. even if she did cheat, garrett’s a big boy and can take care of himself. he doesn’t need an army of women and girls either half his age or double it coming to his defense. be so fucking for real and maybe go touch some grass while you’re at it.

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre @chezmardybum @marshmummy @405rry @sideboobrry11 @d3kstar @mcmuppet @happylittlereader @casperlikej @5starl1ght @bellezaycafe @whentheautumnleavesfall @mess-is-my-aesthetic @ssprayberrythings @landosgirlxoxo @lifelessfan @81ja @wcnorris @a-disturbing-self-reflection (CLOSED).

━━ a/n: we are back in business! i am very happy with this part and how it turned out. there's a bit of a time skip between pre-season testing and the australian grand prix obviously, but all questions shall be answered in the next part! thank you for reading, and i hope you enjoyed!

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #social media au #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #ln4 #oscar piastri

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sneepseverus · 4 months

Note

May I please request Snape x insecure, chubby female reader?

Reader is having a bad day and Snape is there to cheer her up. Can be smut or not, I'll leave that up to you!

Thank you in advance!

Yes! I don't know what exactly you had in mind, but I decided to take the approach I did knowing how harmful social media can be and how easy it is to compare yourself to "influencers" who edit their photos/videos and promote unhealthy fad diets to achieve a body they may not even have lol. I'm sure it's something a lot of us can relate to 🙃

Warnings:

Body image issues, disordered eating habits

NSFW (p in v) -> MINORS DNI

Word count: 1.3k

"Severus, can I ask you something?"

"Yes, what is it?"

"Do you...find me attractive?"

He dropped the book in his hands before turning to you to meet your eyes. "Of course, I do, darling." He couldn't understand what prompted you to ask such a question. He may not be the best with his words, but he was certain the way he held you, kissed you, and made love to you were clear indications of his desire for you. Perhaps he was wrong, though.

"Okay, good," you responded, but you didn't seem convinced.

"Where is all this coming from, love?" He inched closer to you, placing a finger on your chin to turn your face towards him as he wrapped you in his embrace. "Did I ever do anything to make you feel otherwise? Please tell me, because—"

"N-no," you interjected. "I just...don't understand how you could look at me and...want me like that."

Hearing you talk down about the person he loved most stung deeply into his heart. "How could I not want you? How could you say that about yourself?"

"I'm sorry! Let's just drop this; forget I even said anything." You pulled away from him, but his grip around you tightened.

"No, I'm not dropping this. Look at me," he ordered, cupping your cheeks as he wiped your trailing tears away. "Tell me what happened."

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes as you attempted to gather your thoughts without breaking down. "Sev, I...I've been feeling insecure lately. Like a lot. As I was flipping through magazines, you know it hit me that I don't look anything like those women in there. Fuck, it’s so embarrassing to admit because I know I shouldn't compare myself, but it's how I've been feeling, and I just don't understand how someone could be into me like that. I'm not skinny or slim like them, and I...don’t know, but I don’t feel good about myself at all.”

"Do you really think those models really look like that, too? Without manipulating the photographs somehow or compromising their health, at least?"

You shook your head, knowing that he was right, but it was hard to remember sometimes.

"Pardon me, but I find it incredibly difficult to understand how the very same person who finally made me feel content with my own self is talking about themself like this. Do you remember what I was like before we met? I barely ate; I practically lived on black coffee to keep myself awake, alive even. I neglected myself in multiple ways and excused my frequent meal skipping as me being far too busy to take care of myself, but really, I didn't think I was deserving of proper nourishment. I knew what I was doing was wrong but couldn't stop. I came to hate looking at myself because I knew I was the cause of my own predicament. I found myself disgusting, absolutely appalling.

But when you came into my life, you made sure that I ate, even when I wasn't particularly hungry. And I loved all the times we shared meals and cooked together; I still do. Eventually, I put on weight. And guess what else? I'm energized. I can do all the things I need to do without feeling like I'm going to faint. I eat actual food for breakfast now. I can change in front of the mirror without immediately wincing. One might even say I'm healthy. And I can thank you for that."

"Oh, Sev," you whispered.

"My point here is not to make this about me but to emphasize how much you have helped me. I wouldn't wish anyone to be in the position I used to be in; not everyone has the genetics to maintain such a figure naturally. I certainly didn't. I don't know if this is where your mind was taking you, but it would absolutely break my heart if you even thought about taking extreme measures to change yourself.

I'm sorry for failing to make you see yourself the way I do. I know I don't say it enough, but I love you. I love you for so many reasons. You're the most alluring woman imaginable, and not in spite of your insecurities. I find you incredibly...sexy. I crave you constantly, especially when you're not in my presence."

You couldn't find the words to describe the overwhelming love you were feeling at this moment.

"And should you need further convincing..." he continued, slowly making you lie down flat on the bed until he was on top of you, pulling himself closer into a kiss as he let out a moan against your lips.

You returned the kiss, wrapping your arms around his back.

He couldn't help but press his core against yours, thinking about all the times you laid nude for him, ready to take his aching cock. He wasn't sure if this was the right moment for that to happen again, but any doubts were cleared when you ordered him to "fuck you" right then and there.

"Are you sure, my love?" he asked.

"Yes, I want you now; I need you."

He pulled away from you to take off his nightshirt, revealing his bare torso, covered in scars and protruding out. He let you explore him with your hands as it was a sight left unseen most nights. You played with the peaks upon his chest, giggling as your fingers slid down to his stomach.

You sat up to help him remove your own top, leaving you in just your bra. His palms made their way to your waist before he settled there. "Mmmh, you're so gorgeous," he breathed as he placed light, feathery kisses all over your skin.

You whined at each brush of his lips against you, but he wanted to take his sweet time with you. When he was finally ready, his kisses made a trail down, and he slowly pulled off your bottoms along with your panties. You twitched at the sudden change in temperature but spread your legs widely for him.

He inhaled deeply as he took in your scent before placing the last kisses over your center. As talented as he was with his tongue, you didn't want that tonight.

"No, Sev. I want you to take me. Please," you whimpered.

He obeyed you and didn't hesitate to remove the remaining pieces of clothing on his body. As his cock sprang out of his underwear, you unclasped your bra, finally leaving the both of you completely stripped and vulnerable.

He took his length in his hand, placing it on your clit and gliding it through your lips until it reached your entrance. It slid in with such ease, and he groaned as he started to slowly pump in and out.

"I love—fuck—I love you so much!" he screamed. "You are absolutely—ugh—beautiful, stunning, ravishing."

"Fuck, Sev, I love you, too—ah!"

You dug your fingers into his back and wrapped your legs around him as he pulled closer to you, leaving barely any space between you two. You wanted to express how gorgeous he was when he looked at you with his glittering eyes, the strands of his hair brushing against your face when he was this close to you, your foggy brain couldn't think of any words to fully express your attraction to the man you loved most.

Though you wanted this moment to last, neither of you could hold back anymore. Your back arched, and his thrusts became messy as his seed spilled inside your tightening walls.

Unable to support himself any further, he pulled out and dropped right next to you as he lazily kept an arm over your stomach.

When you finally caught your breaths, he pulled you in closer to tightly wrap his arms around you and whispered a final "I love you" before blissfully drifting off to sleep.

#hope you like it 👉🏼👈🏼#snape #snape x reader #snape x y/n #snape x you #snape smut #snape fanfiction #snape fic #severus snape #severus snape x reader #severus snape x y/n #severus snape x you #severus snape smut #severus snape fanfiction #severus snape fic

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mikanotes · 2 months

Text

happy birthday xiao i love uuuu here’s a really bad fic i wrote while very tired. sorry i couldn’t make anything better but TT oh well! /late spring ft. xiao x gn!reader warnings: none really? they’re dating except neither of them know idk. some existential talk. possibly ooc xiao i’m so sorry & i think that’s it!

A soft, soft breeze drifts through the curtains of Xiao’s room. There’s the gentle pitter patter of a rain calming down and the scent of nearby Silk Flowers. It’s all so gentle that Xiao feels this might be what mortals describe as feeling like one is floating on a cloud.

He stares at the horizon and heaves a quiet sigh, before letting his gaze dart towards a piece of paper on the desk by the window. Again. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t looked at it a hundred times since seeing it appear in his room following his daily patrol and fights against monsters.

Surprise was what he first felt, then something he doesn’t know how to name that made his heart tighten painfully, then something else that made it difficult for him to both look at the letter and look away from it all at once. He still feels that ache in his heart when he thinks about it, somehow, but it’s not really painful. It’s not the kind of pain that causes worry. He figures it’s closer to excitement than anxiety. He’s not sure.

In any case, he’s sure whatever he feels is way too much in comparison to the contents of that paper sheet.

“Hi Xiao! It’s me. I’m sure you know, right?

Is it alright if we meet up at Qiaoying Village?

When the moon is highest, maybe? No worries if you can’t come. If you only have a little time, no worries, it won’t be long. See you there, I hope.”

There it is again… He nearly curses under his breath, fingers coming up to tighten at the fabric of his top, right above his heart, twisting again.

He takes a deep breath and easily dispels the feeling, though he begins to worry about the ease with which something so simple makes his chest react so strongly. He looks up at the moon and decides his incessant checking has lasted enough, before taking a step back and disappearing from his room.

Qiaoying Village is like the Harbor in a sense. It’s full of life, full of people, and the exact kind of place Xiao usually avoids. But a village is always easier. It’s arguably much less crowded and the people tend to have unspoken rules about not being too noisy around a certain time of the night. So when it’s this late, and up from a nearby hill, it’s not half as bad as it would usually be.

“You came.”

He shifts his gaze your way and has to pretend he isn’t surprised. He isn’t, but it took him a second too long to notice you. His heart picks up in speed again and he clears his throat quietly.

Shush.

“You called. What is it?” he asks casually, taking a step closer to you. You’re sitting at the edge of the cliff, your bag settled on the grass with some sheets of paper and flowers peeking out. Is that Qingxin? You hum quietly, eyes trained on the horizon, then sigh. You seem to be pondering over how to answer. “Should I give you more time?”

“Give me a break, is what you should.” you retort, scoffing jokingly. He chuckles silently at that and decides to come sit at your side.

“Is this about my day of birth?” he asks, looking ahead as well, “I told you you don’t need to make a big deal out of it. It’s just another day.”

“It is.” you agree, tone sounding somewhat melancholic. Then you turn to look at him, gaze a bit persistent on getting him to do the same. He swallows thickly and glances at you.

“… It is.” he repeats quietly, blinking. “So?”

“You’ve lived really long. When did you stop celebrating your birthday? Did it become meaningless?”

Big talk. He’s not too surprised. There’s no point in not being honest.

“What if I never started?” he asks blankly. It’s not really meant to be rhetorical, either. “I don’t know what’s meaningful about this. It’s not as if I remember the day, either.”

You laugh softly at that. “No one does. That’s not what’s meaningful about it.” you say, gaze moving elsewhere. He doesn’t look away.

“Then?”

There’s a moment of silence, and he hears you hum faintly. It’s a long enough moment to let his mind wander to the clouds again, to that peaceful and heart-ache-inducing place where he thinks about you. He thinks about you the whole day, then thinks about you when you’re right in front of him. It isn’t the first time it happens, but it does feel stronger when it’s his birthday.

Then to him, this day…

“It’s meaningful in different ways for everyone, I think.”

“Really?”

You turn to look at him and frown. “You look elsewhere.”

He waits. He doesn’t know what for. (For his daydream to end. It doesn’t. You’re the dream in front of him. He’s cursed to ‘look elsewhere’ as long as you’re on his mind, he thinks, but there are worse things to be cursed with.) Then he shakes his head a little bit. “I’m here.” he states, “Why is your birthday meaningful?”

You make a face like you’re not buying his previous statement, for some reason, then huff.

“I don’t know. I can’t tell.”

He’s surprised. He tilts his head a little. “You… Can’t?”

You nod. “It feels like it lost meaning over the years. Maybe because I’m growing older? In any case, maybe it doesn’t actually need meaning…”

“You sound like you’re backtracking because I called you out.”

“You don’t need to point it out. Isn’t cake enough, anyways?!”

He scoffs softly. “Then what are we doing here?”

You look at him for a long few seconds, and this time his mind isn’t allowed to go anywhere. Your gaze anchors him where he sits and he can’t go anywhere else. He has no escape. He can only look at you. “Because I think it’s meaningful. I’m glad you were born, and that you exist, and that I get to exist with you.” you say, and he’s almost in awe at how easily all of this came out of your mouth.

“I…” I don’t understand, is what he wanted to say. But he thinks he feels blessed to be allowed to live a life where he got to meet you. So that just wouldn’t be true. He does understand. “I see.”

It’s been a few years since you’ve known each other. Around four birthdays, he recalls. You’ve been celebrating his birth on this day each year since you two met. It should make sense, then, that you cherish him. It should go without saying that you want to celebrate this day with him. But some part of him still can’t believe you really care this much. Before, he would have never dreamed of anyone caring so much about him they would even remember the day he was born. He thinks he would’ve probably forgotten it if it wasn’t for you.

Birthdays are meaningless for a Yaksha. For someone who lives so long and so alone. However he’s not alone, anymore.

So then to him, this day is now meaningful because you’re there. Because you invited him. Because you continue to remind him it matters to you. Because you want to celebrate that he was born, and that he exists. It’s meaningful because you care about him.

“Should I say it more clearly?”

“More clearly?”

“I hope I can remind you I’m happy you’re here for every year you and life itself allow me to.”

If Xiao’s heart hurt before, then he doesn’t know how to describe the way it feels now. It’s at least ten times worse. You’re really willing to waste this day each year, aren’t you? He wants to sound annoyed but he feels anything but.

“I don’t think…” he takes a deep breath, but it’s shaky. “I don't think it needed to be clarified. I got it.”

You unfortunately seem to catch on to how flustered he is and lean closer. His gaze hesitates between looking at you and elsewhere several times before settling on elsewhere.

“Your embarrassment is making mine disappear. Thank you, really.”

“So you were embarrassed…” Xiao scoffs under his breath, “Didn’t sound like it. Maybe I didn’t pay close enough attention.”

He feels your fingertips touch his face, silently asking to hold him. He lets you.

“Then pay attention.” you say, guiding his face towards yours. Your eyes are close enough to see the moon reflected in them. Pretty.

“I am.”

“Great.” you smile, “Happy birthday.”

Your palm is cold against the skin of his cheek. He swears your skin is usually the warmer one. Is his face warmer than usual?

He looks away. He can’t help it. “…Thank you.”

Your hand is even colder. No, his face is warmer.

Then you pull away and he misses how cool it felt, so he grabs your hand before it’s too far away, and holds onto the feeling of it in his. You hum in question and he just intertwines his fingers with yours before looking back up. It would seem nonchalant if his face wasn’t still so warm, but he doesn’t care too much. If the sky is on his side the moonlight will only be bright enough to see you and nothing else.

You’re the only one he’ll always be willing to celebrate something so meaningless with. You’ve been known (to him) to have a way of making things meaningful by simply being there, anyways. Maybe he should be the one to get you a gift for that. Flowers? He thinks about your bag again and wonders if you didn’t one-up him, already.

“Did you call me all the way here to talk about the meaning of our existence?” he asks, trying to lighten the air. You laugh and get your bag, not letting go of his hand.

“Nah. I got you something.”

He sighs, and smiles. “Of course you did.”

“It’s simple, okay? Don’t worry!”

#xiao x reader #xiao genshin x reader #xiao genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #x reader

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