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#like im not phrasing it well but i just love that for most of the decisions
yugocar · 1 year
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truly one of my favorite consistent writing choices in succession is that whenever there is something with massive (political or otherwise) implications at stake; the roys always argue about a dynamic they established as children.
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widevibratobitch · 2 years
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Top 5 Rodrigos
1. Ettore Bastianini because of course
2. Mario Sereni
3. Paolo Silveri
4. Mariusz Kwiecień and Etienne Dupuis*
5. Tito Gobbi
#*to be entirely fair. I don't think (especially in Mariusz's case) the role suits them vocally especially in the heavier parts#(though Mariusz gets a big gold star for his amazing showstopping etc trills + singing that last phrase in the quartett in falsetto)#if i were to *only listen* to the opera id probably skip them. BUT.#both of them have put their entire goddamn pussy into delivering us the gayest and suave and heartwrenching Rodrigo#and i could (and have) look(ed) at them playing him for hours on end and never get bored and every time have my heart broken in pieces#so they absolutely belong on this list. bless them. i will never not lament over the fact that Mariusz quit singing and withdrew from that#roh don carlo that was supposed to have fabiano and furlanetto (and i think even rachvelishvili) in the cast too. but it was 2020#so it wouldn't have taken place anyway since. oh well.#Sereni and Silveri have two of the most beautiful baritone voices I've ever heard and honestly they fit Posa so well. Sereni especially.#he acts so well with his voice. he's so passive-aggresively suave with eboli in the letter trio and so energetic and agitated in restate.#i really really love his rodrigo. the recording also features Corelli (whom i love to the moon and back but i wanna strangle him when#he goes for the high C at the end of his moments with Rodrigo instead of going down with him and finishing on the same note together)#and Hines who is an amazing Filippo. and one of the very best Ebolis Ive ever heard. Irene Dalis. she's THE star of this recording honestly#and it would be one of the greatest Don Carlo recordings ever if not for the Elisabetta who sucks so much like honestly. eww.#and Gobbi. Im not his greatest fan in general but he clearly wants to fuck Rodrigo and it shows in his singing so. A+#also his Rodrigo is so overwhelmingly gentle and so elegant and makes me wanna ashsjsdk i really just want to kiss his forehead and hug him#Bastianini I don't need to explain ofc#don carlo#ask
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foxcassius · 6 months
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just thought abt furuya sensei for a little too long. god she was infuriating.
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rizzlegukgak · 6 months
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i got myself so worked up over that poem post because i made the mistake of looking into the notes
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prettyboykatsuki · 4 months
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— ❈ YOU'RE SO PRETTY, BABY.
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▸ prompt ; companions and their responses to being called pretty boy / pretty girl.
▸ a/n ; bit of a generic post im sorry forreal. while i was originally just going to write this for astarion i had ideas for. all the other companions.
most of the characters have a reader w a specific class or background, all varied! also spoilers for gale, shadowheart, karlach, and lae'zel.
reader / tav is always gender neutral!
▸ wc ; about 4.5k, about 700+ words per companion.
ft. astarion, wyll, gale, shadowheart, karlach, lae'zel
no minthara or halsin bc i could not bring myself to write it. but maybe later if enough people ask lol.
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❈ ASTARION ;
Astarion tries his very best to find your affection for him trite, even when he knows it doesn't feel that way. It's an instinct for him, one you'll simply have to make peace with you if you're really planning on tailing him to the end of the world.
Truth be told though, he likes your generally affectionate nature. He hasn't reached a point he can admit this so openly, but the comfortable and easy way you reach for him is nice. He likes how your hands seem to stretch for him, the way you cling to his spine when you sleep in his tent and the likes.
And while he is not stranger to hypocrisy, he thinks it'd be amiss to try and bar you from calling him any pet names when he calls you so many. He's got quite a few handy. Darling is a favorite, followed by dear, and sometimes my love when he can muster up the courage to mean it instead of saying it like he's trying to perform.
You like to call Astarion by his name though, most often. He isn't exactly sure why you're so fond of it, and truthfully he's done little to consider his own name. You say it wonderfully though, tasteful and loving and soft.
Sometimes you gasp it in offense or horror or shock, other times in pleasure. Sometimes you whimper it in your sleep, groping around until your hands fist in the material of his shirt and you drag him back to you.
In any case, he's used to hearing his name. So hearing you utter the words pretty boy to him, he can't help but be a little shocked.
You're a little tipsy. A hard, arduous journey of fighting githyanki soldiers has taken a terrible toll on your normal inhibitions. You're quite flushed while you're drunk, and all the same sitting in his lap like you've not a care in the world.
Astarion doesn't mind holding you. In fact, he's thinking of all the terribly teasing things he can say to you come morning. So far, you've done nothing but mumble. It's a sudden movement, your hands clasped around his face.
"Feeling forward are we darling?" He says, like second nature. It's so reactionary it's banal, though he does have some enthusiasm since the flirtation is directed at you. Instead of your usual giggling, you stare at him with your lips parted.
"I suppose I am pretty boy," You reply, a completely foreign confidence in your voice that stops him dead in his tracks. Underneath the thick layer of flirtation is sincerity so unmistakable it almost proves to be too much "Could I ask you to keep me company?"
Astarion is, eternally grateful about the fact you don't get much more than that out of you. He spends the entire night thinking about it. You're certainly not the first to call him pretty, and that particular phrasing has been thrown to him more than once.
Yet it rings a little differently. The way you said it so tenderly, your hands stroking the nape of his neck and cupping his face. Well, it's not nothing. He can't decide if he hates it or not until the next morning comes.
Your eyes flutter open as light pours through the open part of his tent. You reach over to him with a deep sigh, engaging in some quiet morning affection when you repeat yesterdays sentiment.
"Good morning, my very pretty boy," You say - and this time Astarion is sure whatever he is feeling he has not ever felt previously "Sorry for the antics last night."
"So your memory hasn't failed you. Good to know." Astarion says back. You laugh lightly. "Your charming little pet name worried me quite a bit."
"Nothing to worry about my love." You say, warm and nuzzling into his neck likely to cool yourself from over-heating "I really do find you very pretty."
He can't help the feeling that floods his sense. He likes it even though he feels a little clingy, but perhaps there's no need to admit that.
"Oh, really, darling? How sweet you are. Tell me again, then. Just for kicks this time."
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❈ WYLL ;
it's a matter of getting used to it for Wyll.
For the first month of your adventuring together, pretty boy, had been a somewhat condescending substitute for his name. Among other ones, like daddy's boy and prince. None of the pet names held any real affection.
You liked getting under his skin, after all.
You didn't get on at first, not for a long while. You're a rogue, a ratty street urchin turned mercenary who'd spent your youth climbing through the soil and mud of the Lower City's underbelly. Your words verbatim, not his. At first, your resentment for him caught him off guard, especially because Wyll prefers to keep the peace and get along with everyone. But, he had a difficult time understanding you, even with his people skills
Eventually it clicked that your resentment was less towards him, and more towards what he represents. You're a Baldurian, but one abandoned by the city and it's people. What else could the Ravengards represent if not the future you never had a chance to look towards.
It was easier after that. And Wyll had promised to himself to observe you closer. In that, he found to like you a great deal.
He's fond of pet names in general, but more fond of you lately. At the beginning of your adventure, it was a little difficult to get accustomed to your... roughness. You lack delicacy, but you're not exactly silver tongued.
Yet, you're not as cruel as you make yourself out to be. Contrarily, while you've traveled together, Wyll bore witness to only gentleness. Nothing more. The words you spoke about only doing things for coin had been clearly disproved by your countless acts of charity. Especially gentle and kind to children, and especially unforgiving to the rich and unhelpful.
Once he got used to it, there was something kind of...sweet about it. To see you say one thing and do another had it's own novelty that Wyll grew fond of you.
It was the night of tiefling party that roused his feelings. That night, he'd watched you play with the tiefling children all night, teaching them tricks of the trade.
And you'd started falling for him, too, judging by the way your usual snark was nowhere to be found.
Especially vivid is the change in your tone when you call him the same way you did before.
"We'll take a short rest for you, pretty boy." Your voice murmurs, looking carefully over his wounds while place down your own weapons "Get your spells back. Organize our things in the mean time."
He gives you look, examining your own worry before his smile stretches into one of fondness. It doesn't bother him at all, not anymore. No, lately - it sounds rather fond, and each time Wyll hears it, it does something for ego.
"No need for the concern, though I am appreciative," He says, not bothering to mask the smug quality in his voice at your change. He delights in it a little, admittedly . "I'll be alright soon enough."
You don't seem to notice, too busy wiping your blade of fresh blood, metal shiny as moonlight. "And there's no need for your heroism, Blade of Frontiers. Have some discernment about time and place."
You look up at him with your brows furrowed, and Wyll can barely help himself. "Are you worried I'll lose what's left in my appearances? I'm just telling you there's no need to trouble yourself over it."
It takes you a while to register to his words, but when it finally does - your eyes blow wide. The look of embarrassment on your face is well worth it.
"I thought you hated when I called you that." You say coolly.
"It's not so bad," He says back tenderly, staring at you "At least not anymore."
You pout a little. Wyll fights some unspoken urge to kiss you. A little longer.
"I prefer when you're acting oblivious,"
"Sorry to disappoint."
He lets his head lay on the wall behind him - reaching a hand for yours instead, trying to rest up as promised. He sees you smiling from the corner of his eye and affirms it to himself. You squeeze, soft, but otherwise say nothing about it.
Yes, lately, nothing you say could get under his skin. Even when you so obviously try.
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❈ GALE ;
Gale is always the poet, never the muse.
He thought highly of his relationship with Mystra, and in many ways still does. He loved her. This much is true. He can't say for any certainty if she had loved him just as much, or at all. He wasn't the first mortal, and would hardly be the last.
But he loved her, enough to write about her and wax poetic about all that he'd lost.
When Gale examines any of his past relationship, he realizes this is some kind of pattern. Gale is good at being loving, but he does not know for certain if any of them loved him back. Or if he was loved in the way he loves - if it was anything near close. Gale had thought, at one point, it was just matter of destiny. Gale is after all, a man who bleeds with all he has.
He can't blame anyone for loving him less than when he is categorically too much. He thought that way for a long time, destined himself to never find love again or beg for Mystra's forgiveness for some new found purpose.
When you came into his life, he hadn't been sure what would come of your relationship. Certainly a brain parasite would make camp a difficult place for romance, but the two of you managed against all odds. Among all the things that Gale finds astonishing about your relationship - it's your affection for him that catches him the most off-guard.
It's a little sad, he can admit. But it's true. When you speak to Gale, your voice is always soft. It's never demanding. Before, always, there had been some kind of expectation. Gale had to be a certain way, to pour himself into someone else for the sake of it being returned.He loved. Surely he loved.
But now, lately, you love him back. Overwhelmingly. The easiness of your love makes him feel a little... spoiled. Which is embarrassing, at the stage of life he's in. He finds the whole thing tips him over the edge. The heat creeping up his neck every time he remembers. Your hand brushing against the back of his neck, cupping his face so gently.
Gale, perhaps unsurprisingly, is fond of your various pet names. All of them sound good. Make him feel important and desired. You like to call him a bookworm, sometimes you call him baby (which he really likes much more than he is ever willing to admit), and other times you settle on saying my love.
Pretty boy is new. Pretty boy is different, and makes heat crawl up the back of Gale's neck like a smitten school boy.
It has a special effect on Gale.
In between classes, spoken with your hands cupping his face as he leans on his desk. The sunlight is pouring through the large paneled windows, casting a warmth on your expression. Gale is sat on his desk, making you eye-level.
"I'm glad you've come to see me," Gale says to you first, breaking a period of comfortable silence. You're a busy person, given all the heroics. Gale finds it troublesome, despite the fact you've moved with him to Waterdeep. Your reputation precedes you "It's been ages,"
"Of course I'd come to see you, pretty boy," You hum, thumb brushing under his cheek - carefully drawing a line "You're very healing to look at."
The effect is rather immediate. As soon as the words leave your lips, spoken to him so lovingly - he unlocks a part of himself he always seems to forget about. Forgets himself in a fundamental way, the flurry of heat and euphoric sensation of adoration washing over him like water.
He gives you a look, and you laugh - pressing your thumb to his lower lip as you lean in for a kiss. "Stop pouting, will you?"
"I'm doing nothing of the sort," He insists, kissing you despite him. You laugh into, warm and bubbly. For a minute, he remembers all he might've lost had he done what Mystra told him.
He's glad he's alive. To feel you.
"You very much are," You reply back, once you've managed to pull away from each other "Don't be so surprised. You've always been very pretty to me."
He blushes again, deeper, and closes his eyes.
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❈ SHADOWHEART ;
You don't often communicate your feelings to Shadowheart through words.
You're something of a stoic. Of the few people in Shadowheart's past who remain by her side, many of them communicate about how surprised they are about your partnership. Shadowheart is known to be a little snarky, witty. She used to be very prickly, at the start of your adventure together - so everyone questions how you were able to win her heart.
Truthfully, Shadowheart didn't know what to make of your personality at first. There's a silence to you. Maybe she should expect this of paladin so loyal. A Paladin of Torm, the unswerving enemy of injustice and corruption. You've always been a devout person, putting action and justice over everything. She hated it at first, a natural response for a Sharran, she figures.
Once she'd left it all behind, she could no longer use it as an excuse.
Truth be told, Shadowheart had always liked that aspect of you. Your devotion spoke to something greater than your oath or even your god. You had simply believed in the world, and inadvertently in her. You saved her from herself, her parents from her fate, and then some.
Your devotion to her as a lover isn't something so different. She often thinks you would swear yourself to her if you could. For Shadowheart, your affection is akin to worship. Every morning, the animals are tended and the flower bed is damp. You wake her mother up without a start, remind her of where she is without making her feel ashamed. You're good to her father, talk to him of worldly politics at the dinner table.
She has no complaints to make about you. Your love for her is tangible, something she can reach out and touch with her fingers.
She's unused to hearing your affections, though. Unused to hearing the words.
You lay together in the darkness. You're alone tonight, the entire cabin empty. Her mother and father have gone together on an outing together, after you accompanied them into the city. You've finally returned, put the horses up in the stable, and have to come to her side.
Shadowheart likes to lay in your arms. She lets herself curl into your weight, inhales the scent of your skin - earthy and rich as you let your arm fold around her waist. She lays ontop of you today, her whole body on yours like a blanket.
She looks up at you, her her tied loosely. She can practically feel how glowy her own expression is as she examines you - sees her reflection in your irises.
You let your hand lay over her back, reaching up underneath her nightwear to lay touch her skin. She gives you a look - her smile small, sincere. Your own expression is tired from travel, but fond. You insisted on taking her parents instead of letting them go alone.
She loves you more than she cares to admit.
"You're staring." She comments blithely "See something you like?"
Normally you'd flush a little at this, silent as you kiss her forehead or cheek. This time though, you use your fingers to brush the stray hairs from her face and nod.
"Yes, pretty girl," You hum, nonchalantly. Sagely. "I really do,"
She's so caught off guard, she can't help but gape. She lifts herself slightly to stare at you in shock.
"I've never heard you talk like that. Not once while we've been together. I mean.. you've called me beautiful but," Shadowheart stumbles, a fluttery feeling in her stomach she'd rather ignore "But it's never like that,"
"I think it more often that I say it,"
"And you always think to call me that?"
"Like I said, often," You look over he carefully, before your lips pull into an easy smile "You're pretty to the point I want to tell you all the time,"
Shadowheart is scarcely embarrassed by anything. She's a practiced woman at this point in her life. It's almost juvenile the way the words effect her. It's you saying it that makes all the difference. The way you've said it that makes her squirm. She lets out a little puff of air, silent as you laugh.
"Pretty girl," You repeat, warm and gentle and laced with exhaustion "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met."
Shadowheart tucks her face into your neck, voice as soft a murmur as the sound of her own heart rings in her ears.
"Don't make a habit of talking like that," She huffs "I already know, but I suppose it doesn't hurt to hear."
You smile brightly. "I'm glad,"
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❈ KARLACH ;
Karlach adores you, utterly and completely.
She's a little caught off-guard by it. Just when she'd convinced herself she couldn't love you more, you surprise her all over again. She'd probably harbored some sort of affection for you from the start of your adventure together, when you'd gone to bat for her and make sure Wyll didn't take her head as a trophy.
Since then, though - on your journey together, she'd taken careful notice of you. And gods, she likes you. You're very different she must admit. Where Karlach is strong and fiery, you're cool and calculated. She figured that's just what magic users are like, but Gale is pretty keen on correcting this assumption. You're a sorcerer, specifically, means the whole magic thing is in your composition and not your study.
Which explained why your head isn't the books like their local wizard. She does find you to be rather charming. You're good at talking your way in and out of almost everything, and you can outwit even the cleverest people on camp. You'd think it'd make you... annoying. Or cruel. And sure, you're a little calculating - but mostly, you're sweet.
Karlach's really never met anyone like you before. Her companionship is a little limited because before the Blood Wars, she was a rag-tag kid in the street of the city. But you grew up in a noble house, learned to charm and finesse your way through everything. You know how to read situations before they've even happened.
And you always explain them to her afterwards.
You make Karlach nervous, strangely. Which is wild! When it comes to socializing, she can get along with almost anyone. You though, you always see right through her. You know when she's using her own personality as a shield, and you always know just when to intervene. Or when to say nothing, and just let her sit with you.
The day she blew up at you, after defeating Gortash - you'd handled it better than she could've hoped. You were comforting, and kind, and let her feel it out without making her feel bad. With you, she felt hopeful despite knowing that the end was probably going to come for her eventually.
With you, she thinks she could endure even the end of the world.
You're in the city now, no longer sleeping in the woods. When everyone else has gone to bed, Karlach finds you in the study, a room attached to the main living quarters.
She knocks before entering. Your voice is soft as you tell her to come in. Dressed in your comfy night clothes, your hair damp from washing up. You're bent over the desk with a furrow in your brow that Karlach finds sweet.
"Hey, baby," She asks, her heart thumping soft "Hope I'm not disturbin' your research."
"Of course not," You reply back, encouraging her towards you "I'm actually due a break."
Wordlessly, you sit up from your chair, pointing for Karlach to sit. She follows through, a little confused as to what you're doing before you plop yourself back into her lap. She throws her head back in laughter.
"Don't know what I was expecting there," She giggles, arm curling around your waist "All cozy?"
"Mm," You melt yourself into her embrace, turning to look at her. Your eyes are soft, free hand cupping her face "I'm cozy. What's keeping you up, pretty girl?"
The words catch her off guard completely, her engine flaring from the heat.
"Shit, what's with that?" She glances down at you, smiling like the cheeky fucker you are "I can't get any redder, you know? It's making my engine burn."
"You like it, no?" Your voice is smooth, smug in a way that gets her hot "My pretty girl,"
Karlach stares at you as you say it. Traces the curve of your lips, the slight arch of your brow. Asses the weight and warmth of you as you lay your legs over her lap and feels her body start to react. She didn't think it was possible to feel so complete by someone, even among the impending doom at the end of the world.
With you it fades away to nothing. Permission to want freely, she had no idea she had wanted that so bad. She had no idea she could want more when you'd already given her so much.
It's nice to be greedy. A little greed is fine, after everything.
"If you keep talking to me like that, we're going to do a lot more than just sitting, you know?" She tells you seriously.
You smile and laugh but don't deny her "Only if you say please,"
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❈ LAE'ZEL ;
The Githyanki do not fall in love.
It's a fact of the culture, a mark of their honor. Love is for the soft, tender fleshed species of the material planes. It does not suit warriors, not the ruthless githyanki who spend their entire lives training the sword and learning magic. Love had always been a flimsy concept to Lae'zel. To the point she'd never thought about it or cared too. For the gith, there is only pleasure and carnal desire. The foolishness of longing can only be harbored in the lesser existence of the outer-world. The world outside of her creche.
For a long time, this was true for Lae'zel. She had never intended her time in the material plane to weaken her in the ways in which it did. Or that the experience of a ghaik parasite trapped behind her eyes would will her into cooperation with lesser beings. In many ways egregious, unfathomable. In trying to rid herself of one parasite, she'd found herself another one - more intolerable and more consuming than the first.
You. What a foreign and remarkable bond. From the beginning she had told you the truth, that the gith do not love and she would not be able to love you. Though she could admit passion, admit admiration for your courage, admit possession - she could not admit love. She knew nothing of it.
Over the course of your journey, you'd managed to prove her wrong. Slowly stripped bare of the identity she'd made her life around, you stripped Lae'zel down to her soul. Her most honored solider, and most formidable ally. When the time came, you'd told her to do what she must, to liberate her people. That you'd be there when she returned.
That you'd wait for her.
Months apart with few visits in between meant that each time Lae'zel sees you must make every minute count. Enjoying your body and indulging in carnal pleasures is only so much of that. What Lae'zel looks forward too most, she must admit, is the gentleness of your touch whenever she comes back to Fae'run.
Soft warm whispers among the indulgent plush of bed sheets and candles. A room that smells like lavender and oak, prayer books and scripture littered on the desk. A cleric of Bahamut, and a soul strong as steel.
But this, her head resting in your lap as you stroke her hair so carefully, is what she's missed most of all. No doubt she's going soft.
"Chk. You are smitten by the text in front of you as if you have forgotten of my return,"
You look down at Lae-zel with a laugh, carefully placing said book down on the bedside table. The voice you speak with her is different from her own. Tender fleshed even in your speech, you let her curl herself into you.
A vulnerable position, open to whatever may come.
"I'm sorry, pretty girl," You hum. The words practically startle her "I don't mean to neglect you. It was an interesting passage."
"Pretty...It is true among the githyanki, I am among the finest of their ranks," She replies, turning herself towards you - getting comfortable "Yet still, something stirs."
"Are you embarrassed?" You reply, delighted as her frown deepens. Before she has a chance to argue with you, you lean down to press your lips against hers briefly "How sweet of you."
"I do not get embarrassed," She insists, scowling as you begin to giggle at her "It was merely unexpected."
"You're beautiful to me, Lae'zel." You hum, stroking her cheek gently as she continues to lay herself across. Your eyes are tender and lidded. That look of obsession she recalled from the months prior returned in full, and no longer hidden. Unlike your other mortal companions, or the pale elf - there is nothing hidden in your words. No agenda "More beautiful than anyone else. At least to me. Getting to look at you so closely is a gift."
She softens, her hand gripping yours resting on her chest
"When it is over," She says seriously, a solemness to her voice "I will return to you. This I swear. Without you, the liberation of my people would be no less then a dream,"
You return her smile in kind.
"My pretty, wonderful girl," You hum. She loves you. She thinks she understands it now "I know you'll return to me, nailo. You always keep your promises."
"Yes," She says, an unfamiliar emotion overwhelming her "I will not forsake all we have promised."
The affection in your voice shakes Lae'zel to her core. Initial abrasion fades only into warmth. It's not so bad to hear, even if it is tender fleshed.
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▸ a/n ; the word reader uses for lae'zel is elvish for swift winds!! reader is meant to be sort of a book worm so you do not need to picture them as a elf and more of a linguist.
this is the most substantial thing i've written in the last few weeks so commentary is very appreciated. i'd be willing to do a minthara and halsin addition to this eventually if anyone is interested!!
anyways, baldurs gate companions i love u. reblogs so appreciated !
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martyarchive · 1 year
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sorry for being sad on main but i hate my speech patterns + my voice in general so much 🕺
#............................................................................................................................................#.........................................................................................................................................#i am smart but i come off as so ineloquent and childish all the time because i dont think hard before i talk... like i think as im talking#+ i interrupt people its by far my most annoying habit and im very aware of it but ive tried every trick in the book i cant help myself!!!!#+ i know that i CAN talk eloquently i just struggle so much when im actually talking -_- i just say words as they come to me -#- i have no filter everything i say is just stream of consciousnessand im not that smart! i cant regulate how well i think lol#+ i have a speech impairment + its so awful like why meeee#+ i rlly do not like my accent which is a dumb insecurity because like. my accent is objectively fine + i like it on my friends -#- and my family and stuff i just feel like...... i sound so dumb or whatever!!!!! i cant put my finger on it it just really really bugs me#also being insecure abt my accent is so silly because like. im a big nerd i love accents i am an accent enjoyer so why do i hate mine. its-#-just the same as virtually every accent in the world............#i dont know. its a silly insecurity 2 have but my voice rlly bugs me and not in a normal dysphoria way where its toofemme cuz-#- i like my voice sans-hrt. its an okay pitch and stuff i just talk funny...#and i absorb like. turns of phrase + whatnot pretty easily + i dont like it it makes me feel weird lol#also idk i think my speech patterns are annoying. like to me and to others lol!!!!#THE END THANKS 4 READING#delete later
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lilisgardensblog · 9 months
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~NEUVILLETTE HEADCANONS ~
(turned into neuvillette x reader)
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aside from the melusines being his children, I feel like his favorite animal is an otter (he looks so much like an otter it drives me crazy it's so adorable!!)
next hc is kinda neuvillette x reader btw
because of his cold appearance most people don't approach him. you are truly the first one to get to know his warm personality, rapidly becoming best friends
but soon the friendship became something more than just friendship. the little playful laughs turned into shy giggles as both of you were unsure of the other's feelings.
he started bringing your favorite flowers every time he'd come back from a trial to visit you. you were now looking forward to every trial and you were glad Fontaine people saw these trails as entertainment. that meant more flowers for you
sometimes if the trial takes a serious turn, your "friend" will come upset as the weather outside rapidly changes. it starts to pour as soon as the trial is over, making neuvillette arrive drenched but still holding your now soaked flowers
whenever he arrives by your door like this, you know something is not right. even tho he never told you, you had your own suspicions about the true identity of the hydro dragon, you were 99%sure it was him (you left that 1% for his confirmation)
"there, there, my hydro dragon" you'd comfort him in days like these. you always did this since the moment you met, at first simply because he has a hydro vision (and is built like a dragon), by now this soothing phrase becoming a habit
he always looks forward to your warm embrace and always says the same thing when he's finally at peace
"thank you...and im sorry for crying once again in front of you" he'll whisper the last part but as always you just hug him and tell him its no problem
but not this time. this time you hugged him and acted on impulse. no risk no gain, you thought before kissing his cheek.
"stop apologizing, neuv.... you know im always here for you. ive been here all these years and yet you still feel the need to apologize. you're more than welcome in my arms whenever you need so there's no need for apologies."
he was speechless. all he could do was lock his gaze with yours as both of you waited for the other one to speak up
you spoke up first trying to move on from the increasingly awkward moment "well anyways-"
he cuts you off "excuse my interruption,but you're right...mon chéri. " he said as he leaned closer, cupping your cheek with one hand
and at that moment you both knew there was no turning back
you kissed him, no longer able to wait for neuvillette to do it. it started slow and unsure at first, but soon both of you started kissing more hungrily for more, none of you getting enough
to your displeasure, he breaks the kiss only to softly whisper in your ear "I've waited so long to do this..."
" me too mon amour...."
and with that you both resumed your kissing as the sky cleared and stars shined brightly over Fontaine as the hydro dragon was at peace in his true love's arms
OMG I LOVED WRITING THIS NEUVILLETTE BRAINROT GOES BRRRR (sorry if there are any mistakes, I've wrote this in like 5 mins)
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hanasnx · 11 months
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Hobie to me reads like a guy who has to "Return the favor", like if you suck/jerk him off and then just dip, you best be prepared because he could decide that it's time to return the favor whenever wherever.
hobie is just so suckable and jerk off-able like😵‍💫😵‍💫 i can’t imagine the kind of willpower you’d need in order to stave off of blowing him every day im being serious
just a second here i love the phrasing “jerk off” especially when it comes to hobie. like it’s gotta be one of your favorite activities to do together. unbuckling his pants, he gets the glint in his eye knowing what’s to come, and he lets you stick your hand down here. he holds your gaze, letting you feel it out. and when you grasp him he lets you stroke him to harden.
you start pulling the tricks you know he likes, all while his pants are still up and his undone studded belt’s weight holds it open for you while you maneuver. your thumb swipes at his leaking tip and loyally he’s eye contact does not waver as he sucks in a breath. when you start getting him chew on his pierced lips and whimper so softly and his eyelashes to flutter 🫠 maybe you finish him, maybe you don’t. all depends.
and that means he gets to give it back to you. he’d probably decide to do it at a most inconvenient time. under the table while you’re out to dinner with some of his friends. it’s a wonder how well he can’t act while his long digits are buried deep inside you. how he covers up the squelching sounds with the din of utensils on the dishes.
he’d also do it while someone was over at your place. they’re taking a shower and he’s bent you over right outside, spreading your cheeks apart so he can wedge his face in between, making out with your dripping sex while the faucet running drowns out the sounds of your pleasure.
yea. hobie my sweet exhibitionist.
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doudouma · 5 months
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“douma has a WHAT !?”
douma with his child! (reader) _______________________________________________
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╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗
hmm.. i thought it would be fun if i write headcanons if dad!douma is the father of child!reader!
there are no warnings, my dear lotus.
i will keep it gender neutral.❀ 〜
a/n : i say child, but i more so mean a toddler. reader is around 2-5.
╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝
ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚
well for starters..
you would be spoiled.
and i mean SPOILED.
douma simply wouldn’t have a problem giving his child what they want. given he’s rich after all〜
douma would get REALLY clingy to his child. fast. he would also gain love for his child.
real love, not his facade love.
“lord muzan, what is this feeling? why does my child gives me this feeling, of maybe.. happiness, you call it?”
“…because you love your child?”
“hmm. i’ve heard of ‘love’ before..”
give him some time, he’ll realize it eventually.
did i mention that he’d be clingy? nonstop kisses. hugs. headpats. cuddles. even “i love you” although he doesn’t fully understand it yet.
you were able to make him feel emotions, so he ISN'T letting go of that. he’ll do whatever it takes to protect his child.
if his child was to ever cry, he wouldn’t exactly understand, but he does know that tears = not good. so he’d be on it asap. seeing daki cry a lot helped him comprehend that.
“ohhh, my little lotus! what’s wrong, hm? cmon now, don’t cry.. how about you color with papa?”
if you were still crying, he would lowkey be worried. and call for uncle akaza.
does akaza wanna be the said “uncle”? NO.
but for the sake of the child? YES.
as we know, akaza doesn’t like douma. but he wont let a poor CHILD suffer from him.
you giving douma emotions also means that you unlock his protective mode. always on lookout, keeping a eye on muzan when his child is near him, even watching both humans AND demons around his child.
douma may be childish and sometimes aloof, but he will not mess around when it comes to his precious flower.
surprisingly, douma would get quite angry if akaza says he should take his child, because he isn’t “doing a good job.”
when in reality douma would be. he’d do his very best. he’d give it his all. akaza just doesn’t trust him with a child. let alone anything.
douma would trust you with akaza, kokushibo, and muzan the most if he couldn’t be with you. although he would try to just bring you along with him to avoid all of that. but sometimes he just can’t.
(by the way, kokushibo and akaza wouldn’t mind babysitting you. muzan will do it, only after he threatens douma about it.)
he’d be really excited to see you once he comes back.
“my little love! im so happy to see you! did you miss papa? lets do something together, shall we?♡”
douma would absolutely be obsessed with dotting on you. he loves his new feeling of love.
sometimes it can even be a bit too much, but he just wants to let his child know that they are loved.
some phrases you’ll hear from dad!douma very often:
“papa loves you soooo much!! you love papa too, right?”
“my dear lotus! you’re so cute〜!”
“my little love.. i’m afraid i can’t understand you.. but you’re really adorable〜!”
“how about papa put on a little ice show for you, hm?”
overall, douma would be a amazing father, and only learn to improve to ensure his child the best childhood.♡
ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚
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this was really fun to write! i hope to do more child reader in the future〜
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kaseyskat · 8 months
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okay since they said that the san diego show is gonna be the only one Not recorded, i'll do my best to summarize the show for y'all!!!
-glenn's dad fact: the glenn close trio instagram (? i think?) is full of pictures of glenn standing next to a picture of the real glenn close
-darryl's dad fact: he and carol go to san diego very frequently because darryl likes the breweries and carol likes surfing! they have not "had sex" there once, but they HAVE made love (statements that made me cringe out loud)
-henry's dad fact: he and mercedes make a fake san diego burrito for themselves and the twins. it sounds awful.
-ron's dad fact: he thinks san diego is a type of eggo waffle
-the prompt that we rolled was called DADDY BABIES. the plotline? the dads (and paeden) went to the dimensional witch tilt toblerona to ask her to give them the strength of their youth back so they could find their kids. instead, tilt turned them into babies.
-the dads still have all of their memories of who they are as people and they can talk to themselves and to paeden (tilt does not understand them though, tilt only hears baby noises) but physically Being a baby affects their mental state just a bit
-ron wanted to stay a baby forever. henry tried to explain the concept of ageplay to him, darryl got confused thinking that ron just wanted to HAVE a baby like with samantha, henry had to explain fetishes
-during the baby section, henry is the most "adult" and ends up having to corral the others. darryl is a close second, but glenn and ron both Suffer Immensely
-while tilt is making. applesauce? the babies scheme on how to escape, involving an elaborate scheme in which henry uses mold earth on playdoh to make fake versions of themselves blue in the face and choking in a plastic bag and ron throwing his voice to sound like a baby crying. beth made the worst fake crying noise ever but then also gave us an INSANE dolphin noise when anthony called her out on it
-(also the dads had to roll object permanence to see if they thought tilt was gone forever when she was out of their line of sight. glenn failed this check very badly. darryl even played peekaboo with him to demonstrate object permanence and it failed. anthony made a horrible horrible joke that glenn's not a bad parent he just has bad object permanence even when it comes to nick)
-somehow this works? they trap tilt toblerona (glenn using illusory mind prison to make tilt think SHES the one choking on a plastic bag, henry casting stone wall on her to build a lego wall around her and effectively cask of amontillado-ing her) and then wander around the house looking for a way out.
-they realize they need tilt's key to escape, but first they watch an episode of bluey! henry is the only one who saved on a roll to Not be sucked into watching bluey and ends up unplugging the TV and going on a tangent about how screentime is bad
-(which is really fucking funny because he very explicitly says "lark and sparrow are well behaved because we set boundaries and have them play outside instead of using screens" and we all know how lark and sparrow are like. not???? not well behaved. henry im so sorry to break this to you but they are not well behaved-)
-anyways they get back to tilt, find and steal her key, and then open the door, promptly getting sucked through dimensions
-(darryl thinks for a second that he's in the rapture and tries to baptize himself in case his baby form isn't baptized. henry tries to help but goes on another tangent and they miss the opportunity)
-when they awaken, they find themselves now as teenagers in a classroom! and they see a GOTH PUNK SEEKER OF DARKNESS (phrases that made the entire crowd erupt in screaming, myself included)
-this time, darryl is the most stable of the dads! glenn coming in second, and then ron and henry were both. very teenager.
-darryl immediately offers to play ball with link. link is interested but ultimately gets shot down by tilt, who explains that they are in interdimensional detention forever
-glenn and taylor immediately bond over how cool they are
-scary asks ron if she can copy his math homework because he seems smart with a tie. ron agrees to let her but is very nervous about it (we later find out this is because he is not very good at math)
-teenage henry is a fucking delight yall. he sits there staring out the window at the trees and writing poetry (with long hair! long hair teenage hen is real!!!) about the trees and enjoying nature
-scary has to roll not to fall in love with him the second she finds out that he writes poetry (she fails)
-normal tries to bond with his grandfather. henry brushes him off entirely. its heartbreaking and also hilariously funny
-normal goes fucking apeshit yall. he gets so fed up of henry ignoring him and the others not talking to him and being trapped in this small room that he takes a crossbow and threatens tilt with it. she calls his bluff and he SHOOTS HER?
-at least, he tries. she catches the bolt and then tells him that if he's serious he needs to actually stab the bolt into her heart himself. he does. he's unhinged.
-tilt tries to explain her entire sob story backstory. darryl interrupts to boo her and call her a loser.
-glenn and taylor throw a desk out of the window to break it open. going out the window Will Kill You.
-ron paints the window like a slip and slide to try and trick tilt into going into it. it doesn't work. however two guards come in and it DOES work on one of the guards
-the other guard eventually gets physically thrown out of the window by taylor, who proudly declares that this will not affect him at all
-henry goes to talk to scary. scary gets excited, but then henry just asks if she thinks that teen darryl would go out with henry because even though he's "not henry's type", something about him is captivating. scary is heartbroken.
-darryl overhears this and rejects henry on the basis of him still dating carol! but offers to set henry up with carol's friends.
-glenn and taylor use awful fireworks to blind tilt, the other guard (that taylor kills), and normal since he was in range.
-scary tries to be bitter and calls henry out for being blind, but henry wasn't hit with the spell and immediately says some fakedeep shit about seeing more than most people do. it is insanely funny i cannot stress how funny teenage henry is
-link is now convinced that public schools were a mistake and he needs to leave Right Now. he rolls a nat 20 on taking the key, but uses it for himself to fucking dip. he just ditches them. he bolts for it. normal even tries to give him a high five and link completely goes NOPE.
-when nobody else has another form of escape, henry takes out his sketchbook? that apparently he always has as a teen? and uses summon creature to draw a boar and bring it to life. the boar smashes through the door and now they are saved!
-it is here that it is revealed this was all a dream but specifically a dream set pre-canon. darryl makes a comment about link being a narc. glenn tells taylor to never change because he's perfect exactly the way he is. scary tells ron that he sucks at math (and ron is very confused about scary's existence he doesn't know who she is).
-HENRY. tells normal to be the best version of himself. AND TO HELP HIM WITH THAT. he draws. TEENY. TO GIVE TO NORMAL AND INSPIRE HIM TO BE HIS BEST SELF. and that is how normal came up with teeny the teen as the mascot of teen high
-it was such a fun show, i'm so glad i got to attend! shame that it isn't being recorded
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This is going to be very long and sound a little crazy at first, and maybe a little mean but please hear me out…
I’m convinced that Taylor sometimes purposefully includes one line or multiple lines of poorly written or clunky lyrics in specific songs to make a point.
We all have seen some version of this with bearding songs like London Boy, a simple bop whose lyrics were immediately detected as sounding disingenuous, even with the general population (the locations she was signing about were the most touristy and too far away from each other to visit on the same day, etc, basically implying that she doesn’t actually have a long term local bf there that she spends a bunch of time with exploring the city with, etc).
But just like everything else on the album, I think she’s doing maybe a more in your face version of that. No holds barred.
So High School is an obvious example of this, with all of the early 2000’s hs imagery, she seems pretty blatantly to be mocking the idea the public has of her “living out every American girl’s high school fantasy” of dating the tall popular football player. With lyrics like “touch me while your friends play grand theft auto” (barf), etc, shes being clear enough that this is not a serious song.
This is the possibly controversial part, but I’m so curious to see what others think about this - I think another iteration of this on this album is the title track, The Tortured Poets Department. Hear me out.
(First, I want to reassure you that there are lines in this song that I really like and think are well written, like: “you’re in self-sabotage mode/throwing spikes down on the road” and “but you awaken with dread/pounding nails in your head/but I’ve read this one/where you come undone/I chose this cyclone with you”. And I fully agree with the idea that these sentiments are from Karlie’s perspective. Basically, when you take out the chunks I’m about to talk about this song makes way more sense and has a beautiful sentiment of undying love behind it - which makes the following parts stick out that much more!)
The first time I listened through the album, and this was the second song, I got terrified because I didn’t understand its place in the whole narrative and when I heard the first clunky line “scratch your head like a tattooed golden retriever” I got the ick. Then the bridge with no structure and no wit and no clever turns of phrase, no metaphor, just “you put my ring on the finger people put wedding rings on” and “that was the closest I’ve ever been to my heart exploding”. So over simplified and cheesy, and doesn’t sound anything like her writing, especially the caliber of her recent lyrics
I know art is largely subjective, but I insist there is no way that the same person who wrote Cowboy Like Me wrote these lines into her title track if she didn’t have a reason and a point to make. To make it clear that this isn’t a matter of genre personal taste, because I know CLM is a very specific sound and a style that music snobs often take more seriously - I love SO many of her candy pop bangers, they are infinitely more clever, articulate, and overall works of art by a true wordsmith than this. Karma, The Very First Night, etc are all a master classes in clever words and tight writing being tucked into an “unserious” pop song.
The lyrics I cited above to me sound like what haters believe her writing sounds like, even fans who make little jokey TikTok’s about her and make up a spoofy something to sing while in character - that’s what these lyrics sound like.
Im worried im being too harsh, but please stay with me because the more I think about the more genius I think it actually is.
In the context of the themes of rest of the album, (her being trapped, miserable, manipulated, ready to burn it all down, screaming to be seen) this theory became clear to me. I think she’s leaning into her public persona (in more ways than one, we’ve already seen it with the stunting), in a way setting a “trap” for her fans and the public, that will essentially call them all out on how they ignored the real her in favor of her pr narrative, making the album about paternity tests, etc, all of which I’m guessing will become very clear in retrospect, possibly after she comes out? (Of course it’s already clear to us now, which is another purpose of the beard songs including clunky writing - to signal to us that these are not serious and that she knows that we know that she knows (like Phoebe on friends lol))
Ultimately, this is (along with So Highschool) a classic beard song. When she writes in this voice, she embodies the most extreme versions of her public persona, not just the one she has cultivated on purpose, but also the one that people have of her that don’t know her (as she did in Blank Space), including those that don’t take her seriously - because her identity as a boy crazy psycho ex girlfriend is directly tied to people dismissing her art as vapid because, they’ve only ever heard her singles, they don’t know the full her.
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That voice is the straightest, the most boy crazy, the most one note, and sometimes the most unsophisticated writer version of her that people have in their minds, including her fans - the fans that refuse to see her as a whole person, the real, that believe she is head over heals for big football boy, that believe “he knows how to ball, I know Aristotle” is a romantic line about how opposites attract, the fans that say they don’t “get” some of her most beautiful and well-written songs, the fans that don’t see her and haven’t been seeing her.
They didn’t see giant Taylor on the eras tour, they refuse to see all of her queer signaling, etc, and I think she’s making the bearding songs obvious to underscore the difference between her Taylor(TM) and Taylor(person) personas.
She knows that despite the fact that the lyrics don’t even come close to measuring up to the rest of the album, the public, and many of her fans, will make this song one of the most listened to simply because they are looking for evidence of her relationships from the past year. We’ve all commented on how insane it is that this layered, complex, devastating album is being reduced to the usual paternity tests. This is currently one of the top songs precisely because it is “about Matty”. And of course, So High School is one of the tops songs along with it because it’s “about Travis”.
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The juxtaposition of the bearding songs alongside her beautifully written poetry of Prophecy, Peter, Whose Afraid of Little Old Me, Cassandra, How did it end, The Albatross, etc mirrors the juxtaposition of her two selves during the Midnights era.
She has proven the point that if they think she wrote every line of this song completely in earnest, then they see her largely no differently than her haters do, as a subpar writer who writes absurdly cheesy love songs praising trashy to mediocre, problematic men. By eating it up they tell her that’s what she’s good for, for being the subject of tabloids and warring fans who make this entire album about two (purposefully) mediocre songs and the men who “inspired” them.
She has proven her point - that a subset of her fans will be distracted by a lesser song simply because they think it’s about one of the greasy men that’s she been seen holding hands with. That they will ignore once again all of her pleas to be seen, that she’s in pain and caged, and has been driven insane by their willful ignorance. That they don’t appreciate her full potential and talent, that they don’t even see it, and just want to be confirmed in their ideation of her.
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This song is essentially the “forget him(her)” pill at the beginning of the fortnight mv, but it’s a sedative for the fans, who are addicted to her straight narrative. Similar to Willow’s 13 chants of “that’s my man” that started off evermore, casting a spell of heteronormativity over everyone who wanted it, so that they could choose to just completely ignore the following 14 gayest songs ever written. Don’t pay no mind to her singing directly about women with zero male perspective - she said “that’s my man!” We’re good! She’s still straight!
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Taylor in the fortnight mv had to a take a sedative to be able to go into the next room and write her bearding songs - ie she self medicates to deal with keeping up the straight persona and to get through having to release dumbed down songs to feed the masses. (I also see the pill as something forced on her, I think it represents both layers)
From the first time I watched the music video I thought the writing Taylor looked so miserable and the bearding songs are why.
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In this room she’s trapped, churning out the songs that her fans expect of her, the songs that make her team money, the songs that make her money, but that she has to compromise her truth to create.
But when she frees herself she’ll burn the stories that weren’t true, the filler that doesn’t represent her.
I’m curious to hear other’s thoughts on this - have you ever felt like Taylor purposefully inserts off-sounding lyrics that are written in a different voice to make a point?
I want to reiterate that it’s not the entirety of either song that I think is terrible, I genuinely love bopping along to both So High School and TTPD (track). Like I said above, when you remove the clunky lines from ttpd (track), the song has another layer and likely gives voice to some Karlie insight that is beautiful and tragically profound. It’s the red herrings, the pieces specifically meant to tie this song to a bearding narrative, that I’m dissing, and the only reason they are suspicious in the first place is because I know how gifted Taylor is with the written word.
Taylor is such a skilled writer that she can embody the voice of the bad writer that dismissive ignorant idiots believe her to be, just to make a point!
I even wonder if maybe there is a second version of this song locked away in one of those drawers in the fortnight writing room that leaves out the red herrings and is a thousand times better than the bearding version we got.
I hope one day we get to hear it.
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victoria-writes · 2 months
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Elvish For Dummies
Pairing: Legolas x Reader (gender neutral)
Summary: Set after the events of LoTR. You live with Legolas in Mirkwood and he teaches you Elvish. Pure fluff.
Word Count: 1039
Notes: Established relationship, reader is human, tried to make the sindarin elvish as accurate as possible so apologies for any mistakes, I’m multilingual so I based this off of my own experience with learning languages 
Read it on AO3 here
Story:
Despite the fellowship having disbanded, each day with Legolas seemed like another adventure. During your perilous journey together, the two of you had grown closer than either of you thought possible. The mere thought of being apart from you pulled at his heartstrings. He could not bear the thought of being separated from his new love. After the one ring was destroyed, the elf invited you to come with him to Mirkwood. Hastily, you agreed, for you too could not wait to start a new life with the elven prince. 
Since reaching Mirkwood, many seasons have passed and you two grow closer by the day. Under his guidance, your archery skills and ability to speak Elvish have improved. He took it upon himself to privately tutor you in the tongue of his people. Legolas still giggles when you fumble certain words on your tongue, but is quick to apologize, never wanting to discourage you. He says you have made remarkable progress and that you possess great linguistic potential. Whether that is true or he is exaggerating with sugar coated words, you cannot tell but it feels good to hear his encouragement either way. 
Most of your days together included walks through the woods and riding horseback, but today was a gloomy rainy day. A day that, Legolas decided, would be a wonderful excuse to help you get back to your studies. It’s not that you did not enjoy Elvish. Oh no! You quite liked hearing him whisper loving words to you as he held your gaze. 
“Meleth nîn, Im tur feel cín emel dring dan sab - My love, I can feel your heartbeat against mine”, he would say as he held you in his arms, his breath dancing upon your skin with each syllable. 
Saying you enjoyed that would be the understatement of the century. Everything in Sindarin sounded like poetry. Even the most mundane sentences were said with purpose and flowered language. Unfortunately for you, that also meant the most basic phrases you had to learn weren’t your typical ones. Instead of “I went to the store”, you had to say “I depart to look for food - Im gwann- na thír an aes”. It seems that most Elvish children learn how to say things like “I can feel it in the earth - Im tur- feel ha in i coe” before they learn “please” and “thank you”. No wonder they all sound prophetic when they speak common. Creepy oracle sounding sentence structure as your first language combined with being thousands of years old will do that. 
“Meleth nîn, you’re drifting off. Shall we return to our lesson or is a break needed?”, Legolas' words break you out of your trance. You look up from your desk, covered in notes, to see him towering above you, eyebrow raised and arms crossed. 
“Apologies, I was merely pondering the linguistic differences between Sindarin and Quenya Elvish”, you quickly come up with the excuse to hide the fact that you were simply not paying attention. 
“Is that so?”, 
“Yes, yes, the distinction between Elvish languages is very interesting to me”.
“This is the third time this lesson you’ve been distracted by those differences”.
“Ah, well…”, you trail off, caught red-handed. 
“Y/N, I will not force you to learn Sindarin if you do not wish it”.
“No, no, no, I want to learn. I promise. It’s all just new to me and takes a moment to sink in. Please, repeat what you said. I’m paying attention”.
Legolas smiles but does not repeat himself. Instead, he moves on to an exercise he is sure will get your attention. 
“We shall review what I have taught you thus far.” 
“ Very good, Y/N. Now how would you say ‘the stars shine white’?”
“ I elena mír thilivern” 
“The grass is green?”
“I thár na- calen”        
“Very good pronunciation. You have done well. I believe it is time to learn some new vocabulary”.
You take out a new sheet of paper from your stack, ready to write. 
“You need not write for this portion. Repeat after me.” 
“Okay”. You put your quill down. 
“Meleth nîn.”
“Meleth nîn. I know what that means already. You say it all the time”.
“And what does it mean?”
“My love”, your lips turn upward in a shy smile.  
“Very good. Let us move on then”, he smiles brightly, as if pleasantly surprised despite knowingly fully well that you knew its meaning. 
“I’m ready. Hit me.” 
He suddenly sits down next to you and takes your hands into his own.
“Im mel cin”  
“Im mel cin”  
“Do you know its meaning?”   
“No, should I? I’m sorry.”, your eyes widen as you try to recall whether he had said it before in a previous lesson. 
Legolas throws his head back with laughter. This may be the hardest you’ve ever seen him laugh before… and it’s at you. Great. 
“Apologies. Apologies.”, he manages to get out between giggles, “The look on your face was priceless.” Your face sours at this and Legolas manages to resist a second burst of laughter from it. He thinks you equal parts hilarious and adorable. 
“You would not have known this phrase as I have never spoken it to you before. I do think it is high time for you to learn it”.
“Okay, so what does it mean?”, you scrunch your eyebrows together, ego still a little hurt from being laughed at. 
His grip on your hands tighten but his touch stays gentle as ever. He has always been gentle with you. His gaze holds the same softness. No, even deeper.  The blue of his eyes seem more vibrant and invite you in to look deeper within him. His eyes tell of a love that can never be truly explained in any language. Legolas has always had a staring problem when it comes to you, but this is something different entirely. Your cheeks redden at his seriousness.
“I love you”.
Your eyes widen once more and before you can react, he kisses you. Deeply. Passionately. 
“I love you. I love you. I love you.” he repeats again and again into your lips. 
Maybe learning a new language isn’t so bad, if you have the right teacher.
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thatdeadaquarius · 9 months
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OKAY BUT I HAVE MORE IDEA FOR BLUNT READER CUZ I LOVE THAT AU SO MUCHANDMDJFKSLDKF
So you know how french people's insult are always outta pocket (from a person who's first language is french I can tell you that no other language compares in insult -apart for African languages)
Like,, some "bad" insult here would be : bitch, fuck off, whore,..
Which we can all agree is boring...
BUT THEN IN FRENCH!!!
We be getting creative with it
Eg.
"mange tes mort" wich translates to "eat your dead (relatives)"
"vas te fair enculer" means "go get yourself pegged in the ass"
(yes, we have a specific word for being fucked in the ass 💀)
AND THOSE WOULD BE THE COMMON ONES AS WELL
English could never compare ✨
BUT ANYWAYS
how would the characters react if reader was from france/ belgium/ canada(or any other french speaking country) and started cursing people out like they eould do in their home countrie !?!?
The eay their face would drop
We would make a couple of people cry
AND GOD(us haha) FORBID A KID OVER-HEAR US AND STARTS REPEATING US
Trying to un-teach them would be hell *cries*
Your thoughts?
Love yaaaa~
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ABSOLUTE TOP TIER ORAH MY BELOVED!!
Nobody has any idea how much I HATE ENGLISH both for its rules/pronounciation BS/etc. But also, most importantly, THERES LIKE NO GOOD CUSS WORDS- OR LIKE CUSS PHRASES??
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I HAD TO PUT THIS GIF BC THAT WAS LITERALLY ME WHEN I HAD THE REALIZATION TO LOOK UP OTHER LANGUAGE CUSS WORDS AND I WAS JUST BLOWN AWAY BY HOW GOOD THEY WERE- HOW CREATIVE- 😫😭🥲 ENGLISH WHY R U SO SHITY IN EVERY POSSIBLE LANGUAGE SITUATION-
like idk we got "eat shit and die / fuck off / go fuck yourself" ???? Like- thats pathetic 😟.
I love hearing someone just cuss smbody out their native language/non-english, it’s so badass and cool to see
Anyway u already know i love non-native english speakers from the bottom of my heart✨️
GOD I FUCKING LOVE BLUNT LANGUAGE AU ITS LIKE ONE OF TOP FAV AS U CAN PROBABLY GUESS I COULD WRITE A LITERAL FANFIC ENTIRELY OFF THIS SIMPLE PREMISE 💖💓💗💞❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥
omg so i HAVE SPECIFICALLY HEARD ABT FRENCH BEING RLLY CREATIVEEE
and i researched french cusswords/phrases,,,
😭 BRO IM CRYING
“bête comme ses pieds!” IM ROLLING ON THE FLOOR-
(trans: you’re as stupid AS YOUR FEEEEEETT)
idk what’s funnier, you translating urself in real time and saying all these phrases to ppl,
OR just scaring the ever-loving shit out of every teyvat citizen within a mile radius bc oh wow- you look pissed, so yeah somebody’s about to lose all their self-esteem for the rest of their life bc ur insults are known to be extra cutting bc ur so blunt-
OH CREATOR ABOVE (…oh creator, present??)- you changed to your holy language FOR THIS???
everybody just giving the npc the most bombastic side-eye for pushing you to do this,
or even just you stubbing ur toe/ate food when it was too hot
or my favorite, getting onto ppl like Wanderer when they do smth silly lmao
STOP I HAD A FOUL THOUGHT OF GETTING ONTO Ei AND WANDERER (like ei for not keeping him/at least giving him to someone else to raise, then all the shit he did as Scaramouche lol)
AND THIS CUSSWORD COMES OUT UNDER UR BREATH OR SMTH- DOES THIS FIT BC THIS KILLS ME:
“Putain de salope…” (whore of whore, I LIED IT MEANS FUCKING BITCH LMAO😭)
JUST GETTING THE MOM AND THE SON IN ONE FULL BREATH CRYINGGGG
STOPPP wanderer using it against other ppl ever since u used it lol
oh no stop dont bring the kids into thisss 😭😭
Klee would deffo be the first one to pick up ur words and use them, omg she just uses them as catchphrases like when throwing her bombs 💀
“Mange tes mort!” JUST WITH A SMILE ON HER FACE AS SHE THROWS HER HUGE SKILL BOMB INTO A FISH POND
Venti would definitely make sure the winds “pass along phrases of the sacred All-God language!”
which just means anyone who UNDERSTANDS YOU JUST GETS GENTLY CREATIVELY CUSSED OUT BY THE WIND IM SOBBINGGG
i hope u guys are having a great summer! its basically too hot to go outside where I am, not unless ur going straight into the water or smth
which hey, ill be doing that this weekend, floating down the river about an hour away from my house with friends! :]
which,,, if anyone sees this, U GOTTA HELP ME THINK OF A 1000 FOLLOWERS MILESTONE THING TO DO IDK WHAT TO DO BUT I WANNA CELEBRATE IT BC I NEVER THOUGHT THATD HAPPEN!! lmk what u think in the comments if u read this!
Safe Travels 0rah,
💀♒
♡the beloveds♡
@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi
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goldenlikedayl1ght · 5 months
Text
black friday - m. murdock
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a/n: an old work i finished because i decided y'all are owed something cute and fluffy. shoutout to all my girlies who were in codependent relationships for so long that they needed to figure out who they were again after ! as always, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! warnings: lots of fluff, lots of kissing, lots of talks about a bad ex, reader is rather shy at first, cursing probably but it's late and i'm probably forgetting so much im so sorry also a lot of suggestive behavior because they're in love word count: 4.5k summary: you have a list of things to do within a year of living in new york. matt helps you check everything off- oh, and you fall in love with him, too. it's not on the list, but you do it anyways. pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader now playing: black friday - tom odell "i wanna go party/i wanna have fun/wanna be happy/could you show me how it's done?/ you look so pretty/pretty like the sun"
For a long time, you thought you’d never get over your ex.
For a long time, you believed that you were it for each other. You’d go the whole nine yards—Kids, a quaint house in your hometown, Sunday dinners.
And for a long time after he broke up with you, you thought you’d never let yourself love again. How could you? How would you allow yourself to be set up for failure, after letting someone know every part of you?
You had been dating him since high school and had been living with him in your first apartment when he broke it off.
Sometimes, it was amazing, and you were never happier. But most days, it had been full of anger and talking him off the ledge all the time. It was makeup sex after arguments you couldn’t remember now.
So, when he did break up with you, you decided to use it as an excuse to run far, far away from your small town. And you found yourself in Hell’s Kitchen.
You land a job at a small law firm, and at first, you just work as a meek little office assistant.
Nelson, Murdock & Page grew by the day, and for a while, you felt out of place. It wasn’t that you were abused or worked to the bone, you just struggled to make friends, and you weren’t very social while getting over your ex anyways.
So, for about two months, you did your job quietly, laughing quietly at the bickering of your bosses, thanking Karen Page for her advice, enjoying coffee with Foggy Nelson, and of course…
Never muttering a word to Matt Murdock. He was just too intimidating. Besides, you still felt like your ex’s eyes were watching your every move, even thousands of miles away, even now.
Then one night, Foggy couldn’t handle it anymore. So, he approached you quietly at the end of a long workday, with a simple phrase.
“This week’s been crazy, huh? Hey, a few of us are going to the bar tonight, did you want to come?”
What were you supposed to say? ‘No, my ex who I don’t talk to wouldn’t like that?’
Please.
“Oh, Uhm.. I don’t know, who else is going?”
“It’ll be me, my wife, Marci, Karen..” He said.
“Sure, I’ll come.” You smiled, before you could stop yourself.
“Awesome! I’ll send you the address! I’m so glad you’re tagging along!” He grins. You’re thrilled too.
“Me too, it’ll be fun.” He begins to walk away but then he turns back around with a snap of his fingers.
“Oh! And Matt is going!”
Why wouldn’t he tell you that in the first place? Why was your face burning? Why was your heart racing?
“Oh, Great.” You told him, now suddenly conscious of everything about that night.
• • •
At the bar, you wound up ordering a drink before you went over to your friends—Well, Coworkers, you wouldn’t call them friends yet, thanking the woman behind the bar.
Then, you made your way over to them where Foggy was playing his wife in Pool—and losing horribly. So, you sit with Karen and Matt, where there is conveniently one seat available, right between the two.
Karen excitedly said your name as you approach adding a, “I can’t believe you came!” Which, ouch, but, fair.
“Well, Foggy was right, this week’s been awful, so I wanted to relax.” You smiled, sitting with them.
“I’m glad,” she said, before asking, “So, why’d you move to New York?” She knew you weren’t from here, so you figured the question would come up eventually.
“Just needed a change of pace from a small town, you know?”
“I do,” she nodded, “Do you like it here?”
Did you like being alone all the time, feeling like you’re always doing something wrong? Like you should run back to your hometown and beg your ex to marry you?
“Yeah, I love it. It’s so different in a way I wasn’t really prepared for, but it’s great.” You lied.
Matt’s blind. Why did it feel like he has this burning gaze into your skin?
“Did you go to college in your hometown, too?”
“Yeah,” You smile. You loved College. You were an early education major and had even gotten your masters in your small community college. You loved teaching, and if you hadn’t moved, you’d have stayed at the school that hired you after student teaching there. But, when you got to the city, you were unable to find consistent work because the demand for teachers was so high.
So here you were, working as an office assistant for a small law firm.
Karen glanced down to her glass and frowned.
“I’m going to grab another drink, do either of you want anything?”
“I’m good, Karen.”
“No, thank you.”
Silence. Sickening silence.
Then, he spoke.
“Do you know how upset I am that you got your drink already?”
What?
You furrowed your brows, confused.
“I’m sorry?”
“I wanted to buy you a drink, but you beat me to it.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” You repeated, a light blush on your face.
“Well, I figured it might be nice to wipe the slate clean, considering you haven’t spoken more than ten words to me since you started working with us.”
That was true. There’s just something that feels so wrong about it, even though you worked with him,
“I’m sorry,” you said again, and he just laughed.
“You say that a lot.”
“I’m sor—” You caught yourself, clearing your throat. “Why do you say that?”
“Well, you speak to everyone, just not me. So, I listen and I’m pretty sure you apologize more than anything else.”
Your face was beet red.
“Okay, Okay, I get it. I don’t talk a lot, especially not to you. It’s something I’m working on, I have a whole list of things I’m working on.”
That’s true. You had an actual list of goals you have before your first year in New York is up.
“A list?”
“A list.”
“May I?” He asked, and you sighed, pulling out your phone, your list nestled deep into your notes app.
“Apologize less and talk to you is at the top.” You told him. “Then it’s get a job I love,”
“Ouch.”
“Sorry, Boss.” You took a sip of your drink, “Move into a nicer apartment, and uh..” You sighed softly. “Get over my ex.”
He tilts his head.
“Your ex?”
“The reason I moved here. He broke up with me about six months ago, but we were together for so long it feels like an impossible task.”
Matt knows the feeling.
“It’s an easy enough list. We can help you.” He says, “When did you move to New York?”
“May 1st.”
“Okay, then by May of next year, you should have everything accomplished.”
“We?”
“Yeah, I’m gonna help you.”
“Oh, so now it’s you and not all of you?”
Now it’s his turn to blush.
“You’re rather talkative now.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I like it.”
• • •
Talking to Matt is easy, you discover quickly.
It’s the apologizing that gets you.
You’re staying late at the office about a month later, while Hell’s Kitchen is amid a blistering heat wave.
You feel like you might die. You’re editing a closing argument Foggy wants to practice when Matt calls your name gently.
“Can I see you in my office for a second?” He asks. You follow him into his office, not really thinking much of it.
“What’s up?” You ask, sitting in the spare chair in his office as he closes the door behind him, going to the seat at his desk.
“Well, remember that list we talked about?”
“Yeah?”
“I haven’t heard much from you this week.”
That’s true, it’s just been sort of a hectic time with cases piling up. You can only do so much work AND talk to your favorite coworker. Yes, Matt had quickly become your favorite person at the office, even after just a month of really trying to open up to him.
He learned about your ex, your holiday traditions and that you hate peppermint.
You learned about his parents, his favorite dessert, and that he dresses up every night to go fight the criminals of New York.
Okay, you technically weren’t supposed to learn that, but you had stopped by his apartment early to drop off a file you were working on, and he had just crawled home and was still in his suit when he answered the door, forgetting completely that you didn’t know.
So now You knew how he was able to tell that you lied to Karen that night at the bar.
“I’m—” You start to apologize, but then you stop yourself. “I’m not sorry, I’ve been busy and so have you, but I do miss talking to you, though I am not sorry.” You say, and he grins.
“That’s my girl.”
Huh.
Your stomach swirls and you beam at the praise.
Wait, what?
You brush it off, before asking,
“Does Daredevil still come out to play even though it’s a hundred degrees out?”
“Will you have your window open with a few bottles of water open for me?”
“Always.”
“Then yes.”
Talking to Matt is rather easy. You have a feeling that soon the apologizing will follow.
• • •
October is the month of figuring out what you want to do with your life.
Sure, you love working in the office, but you are going crazy. You’re under stimulated and the hours are consistently long.
So, you try a lot of things.
You bake, you cook, you take exams, you work tirelessly to try and figure out where you want to work and where you’ll be happiest.
You try doing hair but find yourself uninspired.
You think you might like being a nursing assistant but turns out, you don’t like blood.
But part of you knows your heart isn’t in it, for two reasons.  
For one, you want to teach. You want to be teaching young kids’ addition and their spelling and stars. You desperately want to be a great influence in their lives.
And the second thing is..
You don’t want to leave your coworkers.
You love spending time with Karen and Foggy. For a long time, you didn’t have friends outside of your relationship, and they are the best friends you’ve ever had.
Foggy spends long coffee breaks cracking jokes with you and asking for your sandwich order, telling you that you have to stop by his brother’s deli for one of his signature subs. Then he tells you this long-winded story about how his mother wanted him to be a butcher, not a lawyer.
Karen is your favorite girl. She’s not only drop dead gorgeous and ridiculously smart, but she is also kind like no one you have ever met. She texts you when you forget to let her know you’ve gotten home safe, there is always a coffee on your desk when you get there and for your birthday, flowers are on your desk, scribbled with a cute note in her handwriting.
And then, there’s Matt.
He’s your best friend and knows you better than anyone. He loves having you right in the office where he can hear your heartbeat and smell your vanilla coconut perfume. He tells you about his dad and you tell him about your folks.
He knows your Chinese and Thai food orders like the back of his hand, always ordering you some when he gets his. You describe the movies you’re watching in detail, and he hangs on to every word. There is no one who sees you more than him, and he’s quite literally blind. When you tell him about your dream to go back into teaching, he encourages it.
“When I was a kid, I’d have benefited so much from someone like you.”
He asks you to do his makeup for his Halloween costume, no matter how badly it irritates his skin. He likes the idea of your hands so close to his face.
But you’re both critically aware of how, not only is the market flooded, but you’re dreading the day you leave your little office job.
So many people have asked if the two of you are dating. And you both always laugh, because.. because you just love each other in a way that you can’t describe. But no, you’ve never thought about dating Matt Murdock.
Until this one day.
It’s like any other day, really. You have your friends cramped in your tiny apartment and you’re just waiting for Matt’s arrival before you eat dinner for the night.
Karen, Foggy and Marci sit at your little table as you finish cooking, and Marci just glances over to you.
“You need to move to a better apartment.”
“I know, I know,” you laugh, “But she’s so cozy! I love it here!” It was, and is, all you could afford, but you grew to love it.
“Yeah, and I love having leg room.” Foggy chimes.
“You know what, Nelson? You could just, pay me more so I could move somewhere nicer?”
“Touche.” There’s a knock on the door, so you grin and head over there, opening the door for Matt.
And you need to take a second.
He’s holding your favorite bottle of wine, and he’s in these nice dark jeans and a gray sweater under his peacoat.
This thought strikes you.
This thing you thought you’d never feel again after your ex.
Matt Murdock is hot, and you have got to have him.
This is it. The thing you can’t deny any longer. You have a massive crush on the devil that disguises himself as your favorite person. To you, he is an angel.
“Hey,” you say breathily, as if you have it out for yourself. Surely he’ll know. “You didn’t have to bring wine.” You told him, a soft smile on your face.
He steps inside as you take the wine, leaning in to kiss your cheek gently, something he has found himself doing every time he enters your apartment. It’s your routine.  He loves this aspect of your dynamic because he has known that he’s wanted you for months. You’ve just been so caught up in everything that you didn’t see it.
“It’s no trouble, thank you for having us,” he says gently.
So this is it.
You just can’t deny it.
You have a massive crush on Matt Murdock, and there isn’t a thing you could do about it. Except maybe kiss him. But for that night, you just kind of relax and pretend you’re already dating him. That’s something you haven’t done in a long time.
You’re beginning to feel like yourself again.
• • •
Nelson Family Christmas celebrations are something of legend for you. For months you’ve heard about it, and you’re on your way to the deli with a handful of presents and two trays of cookies.
You’ve decided that just once, you want a holiday away from your family. Truth be told, you really don’t want to spend your holiday without your best friends.
You have on this stunning outfit—A red sweater, a black skirt and these warm black stockings. Boots to die for.
You know Matt can’t see your outfit, but that doesn’t stop you from wanting to dress up for him. It’s weird. This crush thing has been getting out of control.
You’re greeted at the door of the Deli with a crowd full of blonde-haired New York Irish-Italians, and they’re all lovely. You put your presents down and place your cookies on the dessert table. And you love Foggy’s family. They ask you questions constantly, and Foggy’s sister-in-law talks to you for a while about her career in the local high school system.
It’s a joy to meet so many people so full of love.
So, you go over to Foggy as he’s yapping and say gently, “Hey, where’s Matt?”
He grins.
“Why do you want to go kiss him under the mistletoe?” He teases. Your face goes red.
“Shut up! Where is he, Franklin?” You glare and he laughs, patting your arm.
“Upstairs in the hallway.” He says, and as you walk away he calls, “Go get ‘em, Tiger!” You glare and grab a cookie on your way up.
And you find him, standing in a quiet corner of the hallway. You go to open your mouth and he turns to you.
“Merry Christmas,” he leans forward and kisses your cheek.
“Merry Christmas, Matty.” You hum. “Guess what type of cookie I have.”
He sniffs the air and shakes his head. “Give me a taste and I’ll guess.” You hand him the cookie and he put it in his mouth halfway, raising his eyebrows to you.
“What?”
He gestures to the cookie in his mouth, and you laugh, realizing that he wants you to bite the other end, ala Lady and the Tramp. So you lean forward and take a bite, and he eats the rest, inches separating your face as you enjoy your treat.
People chatter down the hallway and Christmas music plays from somewhere. There are so many different foods and people, and all Matt can focus on is the vanilla coconut scent of your perfume. When you’re both finished eating your cookie, his hands find your waist.
“Matt, what are you—”
You don’t get the chance to finish because suddenly he is kissing you in the dark hallway of your friend’s family Christmas party. The kiss is wonderful. He tastes of the cookie you two shared. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.
You need more kissing practice because it’s been so long. But you get the feeling that Matt won’t mind helping you out if this is another thing you want to add to your list.
When he pulls away, he’s a bit breathless but he says one thing to you.
“Chocolate chip peanut butter.”
“What?”
“That’s my guess for the cookie type.”
“Wanna kiss me again to confirm?” He grins and his hands travel down, just slightly to feel the materials of your skirt.
“That’s my girl.”
• • •
The next two months fly by in a whirl of kissing Matt, trying to find a teaching job and enjoying your first real winter in New York.
By the time March rolls around, the clock is ticking for you to be able to find a job in this school year. And then, Foggy and Matt get you the best gift ever.
“Mrs. Future Murdock,” You send Foggy a glare.
“Watch it.”
“Okay, listen—You remember that rich guy that was wrongfully accused of tax evasion?”
“Yeah, why?” You’re cleaning up your office space for the weekend, excited to go to Josie’s, have a few drinks and unwind with your very handsome boyfriend.
“Well, he’s a super intendent for a large school district in Hell’s Kitchen.” Your head snaps up to the two.
“What does that mean for me?” You raise an eyebrow.
“There’s an older teacher there who needed to have surgery and we thought, hey, we know a teacher who could sub in.”
“…Who?”
“You.” Matt says, and you grin. “Your interview is Monday.”
You gasp and hug Foggy quickly, before making your way over to Matt.
“You are the absolute best.” You kiss him quickly and his hands, as they often do, find themselves on your hips. “Thank you.”
What a lovely lovely man.
“Don’t thank us yet, you still need to get the job.” Right.
Your night at Josie’s is lovely but you spend the rest of your weekend prepping for the interview on Monday. It goes well, but something in you is telling you to stay anxious. Why? You have no idea.
It takes two weeks for them to get back to you. But you walk into the office of Nelson, Murdock & Page with a big grin. You walk right into Matt’s office, who glances up to you when you walk in, your heart racing.
“Hey, Sweetheart, I—” He cuts himself off when you walk right up to his desk and pull his chair out before finding yourself on Matt’s lap.  Your arms wrap around his neck and his arms find your waist. Before he can say much else, you kiss him quickly, and he grins into the kiss. Eventually, when you do pull away, Matt asks, “Everything okay?”
“Matty, consider this to be my two weeks’ notice.”
He gasps happily.
“Oh my god! How awful it is that you’re leaving us!” He grins, kissing you quickly. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you for getting me the interview.” You tell him, “You know if I do well, the teacher might let me coteach with her next year.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Our list is almost done, baby.”
“Your list, not ours.”
“Yeah but you’ve been helping so much.”
“You’re easy to help.”
“You’re easy to love.”
He blushes and decides to kiss his girl again.
• • •
 So, in April, a month before your year is up, you find yourself needing a new apartment. The rent is getting crazy, and it’s nowhere near the school you’re working in. Especially considering that the teacher you’re subbing for decided she wanted to retire so you’d be taking over for her full time come Fall.
Plus, your apartment is small and cramped, especially with Matt’s stuff slowly invading your place. You discuss this with him one night. It’s late and he’s covered in cuts from his Daredeviling.
“I hate apartment hunting.” You whine, and he hums, kissing your head gently. “Nowhere is good enough. Too far from the school, too far from you, too expensive.” You complain.
“Why don’t you move in here?”
Huh. Why hadn’t you thought of that? Was it too quick to be moving in with him at this point? Maybe, but something told you Matt wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
“Really?”
He grins.
“Really. It’s close to the school, a good price, and rather close to me.” You grin and kiss him softly. It’s your favorite habit.
So, two weeks later, you’re hauling boxes into your boyfriend’s apartment. You take a few drawers of his dresser and some of your nicer outfits find their way into his armoire. Your mugs sit comfortably next to his in his cabinets. Your cabinets.
Your throw blanket is draped comfortably across his couch, and your shoes lay next to his.
Your lotion sits next to his first aid kit. You love dating Matt Murdock.
You love that next month will be one year since you moved to New York, and your life is sort of coming together. Glorious Matthew Murdock is your boyfriend. Your job is amazing. Your apartment is wonderful. Matt Murdock is your boyfriend, and he is amazing at kissing you.
• • •
So, Matt knows May is your year since moving to New York. He knows you guys could go to Josie’s and have a normal old time at the bar…
But he wants to do something special for you. So, he asks Foggy, Marci and Karen to get dressed up and go to a bar on the nicer side of town. Not that you don’t love Josie’s but your one year in New York calls for a special occasion.
You decide to wear a nice satin dress and he loves running his hands over the soft fabric. To Mat, you are perfect in every way, and every day he falls deeper and deeper in love with you.
So on a warm May night in Hell’s Kitchen, you sit in a bougie bar with your best friends, boyfriend and enjoy a year since you moved to this wonderful place you now call home. And a year and four months since your ex broke up with you. Truly, for a long time, you thought you’d never get over him.
Now, Matt is all you see.
At some point, a little tipsy, you kiss Matt’s cheek gently and tell him you’re going to grab another drink.
“Do you want anything?” You ask softly.
“Just for you to come back soon. I’ll miss you.” Oh, Tipsy Matt was your favorite.
“Okay, I’ll be right back.” You kiss him quick and head off to the bar. You order another drink and wait patiently, taking in just how happy you are in this moment.
Then, a familiar voice calls your name, and you glance over and you can’t believe it.
Your ex-boyfriend is right in front of you, and for a moment, you convince yourself you must be drunker than you realized.
“Wow, you look fantastic!” He says a grin on his face. Was… Was your ex ever… attractive? You can’t remember if he ever was. Especially not since dating Matt.
“Oh, Thanks..” You smile softly, trying to be polite but to get out of here quickly and get back to the arms of your loving boyfriend.
“Are you here with anyone?”
“Yeah.” You told him. “Some of my good friends, and—”
“So, you’re not seeing anyone?” You furrow your eyebrows. When did you say that?
Then, there’s an arm around your waist, and you know whose it is in an instant.
“Hey, Sweetheart.. Is everything okay?” Matt asks, smiling to you. Oh, he knows. He knows big time.
“Everything is great.” You turn to your ex and grin. “This is Matt, He’s my—”
“Fiancé.” Matt ends.
Fiancé?
“Fiancé?” Your ex asks, bewildered.
“Mhm. Got engaged a few days ago, that’s what we’re here celebrating.” You said gently, leaning your head against Matt’s arm.
“Engaged, but you’ve only been here for a year!”
“Well, I wasn’t about to wait around for you to ask me to date you again.” You glance over to Matt. “Besides, when you know you know.” You say softly.
Matt leans in and kisses you gently, “When you know, you know.” He echoes.
Your ex is wildly uncomfortable.
“I thought you said you’d always love me.” He says, and he has that intimidating tone to his voice that you hate.
“Yeah… Me too.. Guess I was wrong. You have a nice night, Okay?” You smile and take your drink, turning to head back to your friends. Your ex is bummed out but leaves you alone, and Matt grins to you further.
“When you know you know.” He hums.
“Fiancé..” You echo. He shrugs gently.
“I like the sound of it.”
“Me too.” You say gently. “I love you.”
“I love you, Sweetheart.” He kisses your cheek. “So… A year in New York.”
“Yup. My list is all done.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I talk to you all the time, and I don’t apologize unless it’s necessary. I love teaching and my job. My apartment is stellar, and… I think it’s safe to say I am over my ex. I upgraded. In fact, my upgrade is so much hotter than anyone else I know.”
Matt leans in to kiss you, a grin on his face, but he mutters a soft, “That’s my girl,” Before he does.
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cheesit-notes · 9 months
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After i read about mean caption prices ( abuse power) i just have an idea for Alejandro being mean too,
just want to request that
Love your work so much!
no title, just fucking alejandro
tags: drunk decisions, dub-con, possibly incorrect spanish, fem reader, oral (fem receiving), inappropriate touches from alejandro, kinda forcing himself on reader
a/n: asked a friend for the phrase at the end and idk if she really gave me an accurate translation l but um, i really wish i just googled it now. anywho enjoy! i tried my best to make alejandro be like his words are sweet but his actions are mean but i cant think of him as a power abuser TT im so sorry if I didn’t do what you wanted
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alejandro doesn’t sound mean, no, his words are so, so sweet. in fact, every word has you hanging onto his next. god, and his praises are to live for. a successful mission and his hands gripping your shoulder while he exclaims how you did so well, making you feel oh so special.
so special, in fact, you excuse the little actions your colonel makes. the way he sneakily pinches your ass, and how his eyes are most definitely not on yours. his arm hung over your shoulder linger for far longer than appropriate, rubbing on your shoulder occasionally. how he asks you for little favors at the late hours of the night; to go to his office, and sit there silently while he looked at you. and 5 minutes later, you’re dismissed to go back to your barracks while he finished up some… unfinished business. what that is, you don’t ask; alejandro told you not to worry about it and you trust your colonel, don’t you?
there’s little things he does that you don’t know about. going through your records, checking your marital status, just the little details. on occasion, he’ll let it slip, but please, don’t mind him! he’s just checking for safety measures, or something like that.
one day, he’s a little too bothered with his unfinished business and he needs help, specifically your help! of course you feel honored, he’s your colonel, and he’s asking for your help, specifically. so you'll dismiss the fact he barged into your baracks, yeah?
leaning against the door with an arm over his head, hair disheveled, a thin layer of sweat like he just had a workout and hazy eyes like of someone drunk. and you're sitting in bed with nothing more than a thin layer of cloth covering you.
the next few seconds are a blur; he walks over and now you're trapped in between his arms as he's breathing into the crook of your neck. he smells faintly like alcohol and you can't stop squirming around, it just feels soo ticklish when his breath hits your skin. holding your hands down with his to keep you still, he whispers a quick, barely audible "por favor, let me do this..." before slamming your lips with his.
he's all over your lips, only really letting go for a bit to let you catch your breath. his body pressed against yours; you can feel his chest moving as he breathes, a few strands of hair fall on your face, and the growing bulge in his pants. he'll take a good look of you, soaking in every little detail of your pretty little face before going down on you. and he's so, so good with his tongue, you're practically seeing stars. when he's done with that, he'll shove two fingers and spread you open as wide as possible, to test you, prep you.
your clothes are ripped off you and he's fumbling trying to unzip his pants with one hand. the seconds it takes to free his cock feels like forever to him, so forgive your colonel if he's a little impatient, ok? oh he really should do more prep with you, i mean, just look at your tight little pussy. he really should, but god, he doesn' have the time; he might as well die if he doesn't shove his throbbing cock in you right now. and that's what he does.
rams his cock straight into your pretty plush cunt. and it's so thick. he might not have the longest cock, but god, he's a contender for one of the thickest. you're being stretched so wide, so far, no one has ever stretched you this far and it hurts. but it feels so good, and tears flow down your face, and you're too cockdrunk to form words. eye rolled back, you subconsciously grind on him, even after he's made you cum, even when the overtsimulation is getting painful. he's picking up the speed, chasing after his own pleasure, and you can feel his cock throbbing inside. and he's singing you honeyd praises between grunts. praises that keep you staying, keep you wanting more.
it takes him so, so much self control to pop him cock out and cum on your stomach. he's still riding his high, a little drunk when he collapses onto your chest.
"quiero follarte en la posición de perra nalgona.."
you look at him confused. god, you need some spanish lessons don't you? he chuckles.
"guess you need to improve your spanish. so i'll meet you here tomorrow night for some personal spanish lessons, aye?"
how can you decline your colonel?
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aiteanngaelach · 6 months
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ive been thinking about language a lot recently and doing a lot of studying of my irish grammar books and one thing that is always in the back of my mind no matter what is the grief over not being able to speak my own language, having to learn it in schools and at home, picking up a book in irish and feeling this unassailable choking frustration guilt and grief that i cant understand it at all. i can parse bits and pieces, stray words and phrases, but thats it. watching things on tg4 and not understanding a word and drowning in guilt over it. ive always felt this huge impenetrable wall in my mind separating me from from irish. and the prevailing attitude of most everyone i meet and talk to about irish is that yeah its sad that we got colonised and dont speak it anymore, but its dead and useless and redundant. the goverment puppets its corpse on roadsigns and documents and titles, paying lipservice to this unimaginable violence done to us as people that we cant speak our own language, but does nothing substantial that would actually help. is fearr gaeilge bhriste ná béarla cliste yeah but is there not a need for gaeilge cliste as well? this surrender to inability across the nation is such a disservice to the language and the people who speak it. im not talking about people not having perfect irish and still speaking it, of course not like i barely have any irish myself, im talking about the disrespect given to irish that it doesnt need to learnt and loved, only bastardized. my family have spoken english for a hundred years, irish for thousands of years before that, and even in that english, vestiges of irish have lingered in hiberno english form. irish hovers just out of reach for me, i surround myself with it through music poetry tv books, but i never am fully apart of it. and the thing is, something that im only just realising in recent years, is that (white) english people dont feel this! theyre not assaulted from a very young age by the knowledge this grief and inadequacy and the injustice done to their people. they dont even learn in schools about what they did to us! to every peoples across the world they colonized brutalised and exploited, every culture they massacred and did their very best to erase! they have the luxury of not caring! and thats incomprehensible to me, that people can live in this world free of the inherited grief of history, that they dont have to carry the weight of their families history on their shoulders, dont have to live with the fact that something intrinsic to them has been stolen! i have always felt like something was missing, and i cant even imagine living with a sense of wholeness, but for these colonisers that is their life! they dont have to face consequences for what theyve done to the world, they dont even have to remember! i wish i could speak irish, i wish i didnt have to know the ugly harsh syllables of this language. tá brón an domhain orm
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