#who asks his opinion which he's never been asked for before in regards to clothing

[mazeinthemiroh]

Hello can I request a stray kids with there s/o being a stylist !

( imagin one of them getting jealous on how close there s/o is to a other idols face when doing there makeup >-<)

stray kids with a stylist s/o

genre: fluff

word count: 0.9k

warnings: not proofread

pls like and reblog if you enjoy! feel free to request anything <3

bangchan

channie just loves the way you do his makeup. like he really feels only you bring out his best features. you make him feel confident in himself when he is performing because you give him outfits that not only are flattering but also that he feels comfortable in. even when you're not styling him, he might ask for fashion tips or your opinion on his outfit anyway. what makes channie super happy though is that you always remember to compliment his handsome face whether he is wearing makeup or not, knowing that he's insecure about his bareface. this makes his heart flutter for sure <3

lee know

minho loves the perks there are in having a partner who is a stylist. you have a good eye for things so he comes to you for free fashion advice and stuff like that. what he isn't too keen on is when you are styling other idols. he knows it's part of your job but when he catches glimpse of you leaned over another idol to do their makeup, he can't help but feel a little jealous. even if the other idols you are styling happen to be his members! why should they be worth more attention than him? that's where his mind is at. so be sure to pamper him and give him special treatment uwu

changbin

he loves the fact that you are mostly there backstage whenever he has a concert or special event. he feels like he can get positive vibes and support just by knowing you're not too far from him. he loves it when you take care of him, especially in between performances at concerts. while adjusting his make-up and outfit, you'll wipe his sweaty forehead and always ask him if he's ok and if he needs anything. you mkar him feel so loved and care for no matter what setting or circumstance. he likes to think that you take care of him at work and he get's to take care of you at home >.< idk the whole scenario is just very cute to him.

hyunjin

he admires your work because to him being a stylist is like being an artist; you have your own creative process and speculate on how to make things look beautiful or make outfits look unique for performances. he always claims that every time you style him, you give him the most iconic looks. whether that is giving him a new hairstyle or vibrant, intricate makeup on his face, or even a new style of clothes that has never been tried by an idol before. he likes making a good impression on the fans and being known as striking and daring, so having you by his side to support this idea is a dream come true for him.

han

he finds it quite a novle idea that he would be connected to his partner this way. he still finds it funny how he could ask about different clothes and hairstyles that you would be willing to try out in him while you talk long into the night. having you in his work aspect of life is something he is still getting used to, but definitely something he very much appreciates. just knowing you are there, even jn the backgrounds of the dressing room somewhere, even if you're styling another idol, he knows you're there. and that's the main thing. he feels he has someone to turn to just incase something happens. he is very comforted by you.

felix

every time you get the opportunity to do his makeup for an event, you also make sure his beautiful freckles are visible, which he really appreciates. as felix's stylist and partner you feel that you tend to focus more on complimenting his personality and talents than looks. this is because felix has expressed to you that he doesn't want to just be known for his handsome face, and you completely understand that. as someone who is constantly around handsome faces anyway, you tend to be unfazed with regards to looks, and so you reassure him that his personality shines the brightest <333

seungmin

before he started dating you, seungmin was super shy when you came over to style him, and this was mainly because you could not stop yourself from complimenting how handsome he is. i mean... i can't blame you?? i would totally do the same lmao. anyways, now that you both are dating he's a lot less shy because he's used to being around you a lot more, not just at work but also in a less professional setting, like when you guys at home. but you still make his heart flutter regardless; he's just not used to getting so much attention from just one person. it's a new feeling, and a feeling he likes very much indeed.

jeongin

you are able to shield jeongin from any awful hairstyles that other stylists attempt to infringe upon him. like the amount of times other stylists have come at him with hair crimpers is appalling and definitely not happening, not if you have any say in it! he definitely appreciates you understanding his wishes, for sure. when he sees you styling other idols, he can feel himself getting more and more jealous. he's just lowkey insecure, especially if he deems the idol you are so close to as being 'more handsome' than he is. but he will never mention it to you because he recognises that you are a professional and this is merely what you're paid for.

#stray kids #skz #bang chan #bangchan #chan #seo changbin #changbin #felix #lee felix #lee minho #lee know #seungmin #kim seungmin #jeongin #yang jeongin #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #han #han jisung #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids reactions #stray kids x reader #skz imagines #skz fluff #skz scenarios #skz x reader #kpop fluff #kpop

[filmnoirsbian]

'her brother def killed her' PLEASE go on if you have the time bc i would LOVE to see you talk about this film

It's a wonderful little horror movie! If you haven't seen it but plan to, don't read this response!! This is a movie best watched blind and uninfluenced by outside opinion.

(🤚 Spoilers 🚩 Below ⬇️)

Regarding the brother specifically, I didn't initially find him suspicious until the series of video clips where we see him repeatedly filming Alice without her knowledge, which she clearly was uncomfortable with and upset about. I get that siblings squabble but it just struck me as odd that every interaction we see between the siblings shows one of them antagonizing the other--usually Matthew antagonizing Alice.

Matthew is the last one to see Alice. They're swimming together out in the lake, and then he decides to head back alone. He claims she wanted to stay out there. But then when he reaches the beach, he asks his parents "Where's Alice?" alerting them to the fact that she is missing. The dad mentions that the lake looked still, with no sign of her. If Alice could swim, isn't it unlikely that she would have just drowned in still water, without any external cause?

Then there's the dad's vision of Alice, in which she acts out the scene between her and Matthew, where she discovers him filming her and yells at him to get out of her room. Why would he see that moment specifically? What if Alice was trying to make him understand that Matthew was involved somehow?

Matthew's bruises were another oddity. At first I assumed it was just another symptom of the haunting, but Alice's ghost didn't otherwise seem capable of physicality. And the bruises developed very shortly after her death, before eventually healing. So I posit that Alice gave him those bruises during their struggle at the lake, when he drowned her.

Alice's corpse looks excessively damaged by the time it's found, though it's only been in the water a few hours (she was reported missing around 6pm, discovered sometime after 9pm). Obviously other things could have caused that, maybe she was fed on by fish, etc, but I think Matthew beating her/forcefully drowning her could have also caused the damage to her face especially.

Matthew manipulating footage to make it seem like Alice's ghost is haunting them is another thing which, divorced from all other context, wouldn't make me immediately suspicious of him. People grieve in different ways, and his reasoning that he wanted to give his mom some sort of comfort or closure would be good enough for me under other circumstances. But next to everything else, it's more disturbing, his manipulation of Alice's presence/image even after her death. And there's no understandable reason behind him donning her clothes and wandering around the site where she died. Again, people grieve in strange ways sometimes, but this behavior goes basically unaddressed.

Finally, the sex tape of Alice--a 16 year old--and her married adult neighbors the Tooheys. This one's a bit of a stretch I admit, but we already know Matthew has been video taping his sister without her knowledge or permission, and it's never really explained how Alice got the tape from the Tooheys if it was in fact taped by them. I don't remember any of them ever actually looking at the camera as though they knew it was there. What if it was actually Matthew's tape, and Alice found it? I think it'd be easier for her to get it from him, since they live together, and then tell the Tooheys about it.

If Matthew really did kill Alice, a lot of questions are answered, and Alice's story becomes even more tragic. In her dream, she feels drugged and scared and goes to her parents' bed, wanting to tell them. But she can't. She realizes they can't help her, so she just stands there crying. This could just be the heartwrenching experience of a girl who knows she is going to die and is struggling with that knowledge. But it could also be the experience of a child who is being abused by a family member and desperately wants to tell their parents, but can't.

In the end, we know that while the family moves on, assuming they've learned what Alice was trying to tell them, Alice's ghost is not at rest. She is stuck in that house, in the story of her pain, unseen when she was alive and unseen now in death. The images that capture Alice's ghost (excluding the lake mungo footage) are either taken by Matthew or feature him. The film is horrifying and depressing no matter what, but if this theory is correct, it means we, alongside Alice, have just watched her murderer get away with it.

#asks #lake mungo #an eye in the head of a poet

[chicken-fifi]

Jackson Wang Headcanon | Frenemies to Lovers

Pairing: Jackson Wang x Fem!Reader

Requested by anon: Maybe a frenemies to lover with Jackson Wang if you feel like it? Fem!reader could be his manager's close friend (just an idea, you could always disregard it if you're stuck 🫶) and some cute kind of jealousy from Jackson. Could i request for a long-ish headcannon pls? I love your HCs :DD Tysm!

A/n: i'm glad you enjoy the headcanons and hopefully this fits the bill of what you were looking for

You'd been friends with his manager since high school after having spent a year abroad as an exchange student

Over the years you'd met up with them at different events and filming sites which is how you met Jackson

While you didn't necessarily like Jackson, you didn't dislike him either

In your honest opinion he could be a bit much sometimes

Both in a good and not so good way

The same could be said about Jackson's feeling towards you

He didn't like or dislike you either

But he did find you to be a bit of a distraction for him and a few other film and crew personnel

Including his manager

Which he wasn't sure how to feel about

Regardless, he never stopped or forbid his manager from inviting you to anything

And you didn't turn down the invitations from them

So you kept visiting

The two of you steered clear of one another

Only ever acknowledging each other when you did cross paths and others were around

It would go on like that for a while

Just ignoring each other whenever possible on sets and backstage

It gets to the point where you just get used to it really only being you and a few of the other stylists hanging out and having some fun while Jackson is busy filming or performing

You'd even picked up a few new things regarding clothing styles and make up helping whenever you could

Especially in times when it was badly needed

Jackson couldn't deny that at some point you'd began making a bit of an impression him

Mainly because you had definitely been helping out a lot behind the scenes lightening the load for others in anyway you could

And you seemed to enjoy it too

He also couldn't deny that he was a bit jealous of the relationships you'd formed with his crew and staff as time passed

He wanted to be as close to you as they were

He didn't just want to be someone you seemed to tolerate

And he didn't just want to tolerate you

His manager began picking up on the curiosity that Jackson was presenting when it came to you

He would begin asking if you were coming to anything scheduled that day

And he wasn't very good at hiding his disappointment or downed mood when he was told you weren't

He was even getting jealous of how easy it was for his manager to text or call you

At some point you did begin talking to him

Mainly if you were helping him with some styling or makeup when others were busy

And the littles snips in his tone when you mentioned his manager or someone else when talking to him

You had to admit that you found him quite endearing in those moments

Which you scolded yourself for even thinking for sometime

He'd begin bringing or buying you drinks and other snacks whenever he knew you were coming

Something that didn't go unnoticed by others

And you too began having things ready for him after performances or rather long shoots

It would only get more and more involved between the two of you

Eventually exchanging numbers after a staff dinner

A date would follow up soon which was a bit awkward but otherwise nice and resulted in another

You began drifting a bit from the tight circle of staff, waiting eagerly for Jackson to finish talk for the opportunity to see and talk to him

Which everyone quickly noticed and began placing bets on to see long it would be before you both made it official

Soon enough however, it was Jackson's manager who began feeling left out

But they took it in stride

And when the two of you finally did make it official he was the one taking all the credit for inviting you time and time again

#kpop headcanons #got7 #got7 masterlist #got7 headcanons #got7 jackson #got7 jackson wang #jackson #jackson wang #jackson headcanons #jackson wang headcanons

[dearestones]

And Why Should You Care? (L x F! Reader)

Warnings: Slight fluff and angst. 

Anonymous Request: Hello!

Can I request L from Death note with fem!Reader who is extremely skinny and doesn’t feel her body is beautiful?

Thank you very much in advance! I love your writing, and your blog seems so friendly!

.

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“If you have a question, it’s better if you just ask it rather than spending the majority of your time fussing about it and then not saying anything.” L pressed a few keys onto his laptop, the gentle tapping of his fingers a stark contrast to the low monotone of his voice. To anyone else, he would have seemed blunt and callous, perhaps even irritated at your inner frustrations, but you knew him well enough—or fooled yourself into thinking you had—to know that he was actually quite gentle. If it were anyone else, he would have ignored you. 

You pursed your lips together and thought some more about the question you dreaded asking. Finally, when you knew that he was only a call button away from summoning Watari, you said, “It might be a stupid question.”

“If it is,” L murmured lowly, “I’ll be sure to inform you.”

Again, he tapped on his keyboard, the clacking of the keys serving as ambience. You could almost hate L at that moment. To him, most questions were probably frivolous; they were mere repetitions of the observations and patterns that he saw daily. If anything, he probably knew what you were going to ask just from your reactions alone. 

You sighed and resigned yourself to the horror of impending humiliation. “Okay… Am I pretty?”

Sometimes, you didn’t know what to expect from L. Yes, there were times when he resembled the mechanical workings of a computer—all algorithms and binary code—but there were times when you could swear that he was just as mysterious as the crimes that he solved. That is, to say, you would never know what the answer was, but L knew. 

He always knew. 

And his response? 

He continued typing, but gave you a sidelong glance at you that was more irritated rather than surprised. Figures. 

“Pretty, alongside most other adjectives, is a subjective matter.” He cocked his head to the side and brought a thumb to his lips, which he absentmindedly chewed as he continued to regard you. Dark and foreboding, his eyes bore into yours. They were wide and unblinking, but even as you stared back at him, you could barely make out the reflection within those dark pools. “I have no opinions regarding aesthetics.”

And that could have been it. 

Even before you began ingratiating yourself to L, you knew that he preferred form following function. He was practical and pragmatic, often choosing clothing that he knew would suit his sensory preferences rather than wearing outfits that could have suited him better. For him, the idea of objects that were purely made just for the novelty of looking at something good looking was far beyond his comprehension. 

Despite yourself, you prodded him. 

“Fine then, what about beautiful? Do you think I’m beautiful?” You were getting heated now, your voice slightly cracking at the end. It’s not like looks were everything, you knew that, but this was important to you. Your body… It felt like it wasn’t yours sometimes, like a thing that was only meant to be maintained and kept clean, but never to be seen as something attractive. What were you other than a vessel for a soul? A bag of meat and bones?

Pretty wasn’t everything, yes, but you craved to be acknowledged as someone who could be desired. 

Didn’t everyone else want the same to a certain extent?

This time, you caught L’s attention. For the first time in an hour, his hands abruptly hovered over the keys in uncertainty before retreating to his sides. Although his gaze was kept perfectly blank, you could see from the bright glare from the computer screen that he looked… confused. Perhaps even perturbed? You weren’t sure how to describe the expression on his face, but it was far better than the alternative: impatience. 

In a low, steady voice, he uttered your name. In the stormy turmoil of your emotions, you hesitantly responded with a soft affirmative. 

“This is a sensitive situation, yes?”

You nodded, too choked up and lost in your racing thoughts to properly respond. 

“Before I answer, I’d like you to answer a question of my own.” He raised a hand to placate you and if you looked closely, you could see that he was taking this conversation seriously. Although his voice remained the same and he still sat hunched in his seat as if he were still in work mode, the way he held himself—unnaturally rigid and alert—told you that he had heard your distress and he was going to do everything in his power to make it right. “As they say, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Anyone could tell you that you’re beautiful. Furthermore, anyone could just as easily tell you that you are ugly. No two person’s standards are the same. So, why should you care? Anyone could say anything, so why bother listening?”

You were struck dumb by his words before you were hit by a tidal wave of indignation and the terrifying thought that L didn’t care. He probably thought that you were being stupid and emotional about this, why did you even ask—

Why did you even ask?

“It’s because it’s you!” You cried out. So startled he was at your sudden outburst, L nearly fell out of his chair, but you paid that no heed. You left the confines of your own seat to confront him, your presence rendering him dumb as you encroached on his personal space. “I don’t care about what anyone else thinks, I just want to know what you think! You’re important to me, that's why I want to know!”

L blinked. 

“Ah.”

That’s all he had to say? Ah?

The displeasure must have been more than evident on your face because he quickly began to formulate a response that would best satisfy your needs. 

“You’re not beautiful and you are not ugly. When I look at you, I see someone important to me. Aesthetics and societal standards don’t define who you are.” His hand reached out, his movements stilted and awkward, but he managed to land a feather-like touch on your shoulder. Despite his feelings towards physical touch and expressions of affection, he held on. For you, he was willing to eschew his reservations to make sure that you were all right. “Your body shape does not matter to me. Your companionship is far more valuable.”

His light hold increased in pressure for a few seconds before he abruptly let go, his hand going back to rest atop his knee. 

You were stunned into silence before you felt a smile break out onto your face. 

“Can I please focus on my work now?” His voice was still monotone, but you could hear the distinct wheedle in his voice that was the closest to whining you’ll ever hear from him. 

In response you nodded and, respecting the boundaries between the two of you, lightly rumpled his hair in affection. He made a startled humming noise, but you only grinned in response.

If L appreciated who you are, then why did other people’s opinions matter?

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If you want to donate a Ko-Fi, feel free https://ko-fi.com/devintrinidad.

DEATH NOTE MASTERLIST

#death note #dn #death note l #dn l #l lawliet #death note l lawliet #dn l lawliet #death note x reader #dn x reader #fem reader #fem! reader #l x reader #l lawliet x reader #l lawliet x f! reader #l lawliet x fem! reader #dearestones #devintrinidad #death note reader #dn reader #thanks! i try making this blog as friendly as possible! i think you're nice too! :D

[canonicallysoulmates]

Jensen's Saturday Morning Solo JIB12 Panel

There's some crossover between the panels because they're all one after the other, and the video source I'm using put all the panels into one vid so below, at the end of this post, you're gonna find two links so if you want to watch the panel you can choose whether you wanna start from when Jensen gets on stage and he and Jason Mann's talk a bit or if you prefer just the portion that has Jensen alone.

This poor man doesn’t know the time or the day, someone told him his time like his regular US time at that moment would be like 3am and he said that made sense and that he was actually up filming till 3am the day before. He has not slept.

He said that he was in a different country a couple days ago working on another project, but he doesn't mention or give details as to what that project is, then to filming Big Sky, and a couple weeks before that he was in another country shooting a movie. A fan in the crowd asked him what movie but he doesn't say, um does he not know that we know about the buddy games sequel, that we know he's in it, and that there are pictures of him on the set? I know he probably doesn't have permission to talk about it but it amuses me.

Anyways the first question is: is there any news about the 3rd Radio Company album and are they planning live shows after the release?

The album is basically done. They wrote it, Steve has been producing the music, it’s ready to go but Jensen hasn’t been able to do his part because he hasn’t been home in over two months. When the crowd reacts to that and goes 'awww' he adds that it’s okay, that he’s seen the kids because they’ve gone and visited him and he’s met them in other places and stuff but he hasn’t actually been to Austin in over two months.

Him not being to Austin in so long was not planned, he packed up for a week away, and then during that week D called him to tell him it was too hot and they were gonna go somewhere that wasn't as warm to meet them there so he was like 'okay' and then just hasn't gone back home he claims he's been living out of a suitcase for two months now.

I have several thoughts. First, it stands out to me that he specifically says that it's okay because he's seen the kids, not the wife and kids, the kids. Second, my boy do you not have keys to your own house? Do you not know how to use GPS to look up a clothing store? Could you not ask D to throw some of your clothes in a suitcase for you for when you met up? Or asked Jared who was not that long ago in NM?

I'm not doubting his claims of being away from home or of D taking the kids somewhere cooler for summer but I am doubting his claims of only having one suitcase of clothes.

Back to his answer, they’re very close to a third album, it's gonna be a bit of a departure from the previous two, this won’t be vol 3 it will be something different. He just has to get to Austin and do it, as for live shows Steve and he are talking about doing a show at some point in the near future they just have to lock the details down. x

Continuing on, how was Jensen first pitched C's death scene?

Jensen didn't have a lot of discussions about it, it's not something that was run by him. He knows MC did have conversations with the writers and producers, but he just spoke about it with MC and discussed how they wanted it to go like the tone of it. He makes clear he had no influence over MC and what he wanted to do, they each made their own decisions in regard to their characters.

He says that’s what worked for the show for 15yrs, that he never told Jared the decisions he should make as Sam and he also never told MC what he thought C should be doing; they all made their own decisions for their characters and a lot of it was based on what the other characters were doing and that’s why it’s such a great marriage of all the characters and the actors portraying them because he trusted Jared to make really fantastic decisions and he trusted M to make fantastic decisions which enabled him to make what in his opinion were good choices for Dean.

But in regards to that particular scene, he just tried to give MC the space to do what he needed to do as C, and Jensen thinks he did an amazing job and he's happy with how it turned out for MC.

That he remembers the crew passing a tissue box around cause they were sad and then they had to do the same with the barn scene, that it’s a true testament if you look around the faces of the crew that have seen you do everything for years and years and you’re affecting them that much then you know you’re unto something and at the end of the day that’s what they’re doing telling emotional stories that affect people.

This was such a professional answer, I have to give him a round of applause, what the person who asked this question was fishing for they did not find 👏

Any advice, as a director, on working with people who might not get your vision and how to communicate ideas clearly? 

He replies that as a director you are the captain of the problem-solving squad. The script is a problem and it’s up to you to figure out how to solve it but keep in mind that all the others heads of departments are all there not only to be tools to help you create your vision but also to be collaborative. He thinks that as a director if you have a clear idea and you can say 'this is what I'm looking for' then it helps everybody facilitate that idea but if you run into actors who have a different idea about something then you have to be available and open to allow that collaboration to happen, and a lot of times they can bring things to the table that you hadn’t thought of; that if you’re closed off to that then you’re gonna miss out on happy accidents all the time.

So he would say his biggest advice is to be available for the additional creative that your cast and crew can give you. That it’s like drawing a map, make the map know how you wanna get from a to b but understand there are a few different ways to get there, and don’t block yourself off from getting there because you might get yourself stuck in a traffic jam. x

How was it to work again with Kripke after so many years?

It was like they never stopped working together. He says Kripke is an incredible talent who builds worlds that are just so uniquely him but he would say mostly it was just really fun saying his dialogue.

That how Kripke writes, how he shapes characters and relationships and character development, is so rich and textured and layered that he knew coming in that it wasn’t going to be a one-note character, it wasn't going to be a one-trick pony. That this guy was going to be complex, and Kripke just does an amazing job of writing rich complex characters in an outrageous world. He was excited to a. work with his friend again and b. be in this new world he’s running and creating. And it was a lot of fun, he had a really good time traveling around the world promoting The Boys, and it gave them the opportunity to sit and chat a lot about the show and spn and just life in general; he considers himself very fortunate to have a friend as talented and genuine as Kripke is. x

What got him interested in the Big Sky role and what can be expected from Sheriff Beau Arlen? 

He shot The Boys last year, finished that in Sep, and he was only signed on to do one season. Clearly, the door was left open and there have been numerous conversations about the future of Soldier Boy so even though he only signed on for one season he may be coming back at some point, he says at this point it’s more a question of when not if but the point is that there was no promise of him coming back and he knew if he did it wouldn’t be right at the beginning of s4 or even during s4 at all so they finish that and he goes home for a bit and then went to do Rust. Which was an amazing experience up until it wasn’t, and then it was basically the end of the year and for the past 15yrs he has always gone back to set in the new year. So when the holidays came and went, and a new year arrived all of a sudden he realized he didn't have a job.

And most people would say he earned that break and that he should enjoy it but not him, he panicked thinking 'oh god, I need a job so bad’ so he called his agent and asked who was hiring to get out the classifieds. He had a phone conversation with ABC, just a general meeting, of them asking what he’s interested in doing and he told them and asked if they were looking for people for a new project or if they had a current project he might be right for, and one of the execs over there, who he’s known for many years, told him that she tought he should get in contact with the showrunner of Big Sky.

He says, sure, gets in contact with him, they hit it off and the showrunner tells him he'd like to bring Jensen in, shake stuff up; two weeks later Jensen gets an e-mail from the showrunner with a breakdown of this brand new character, Sheriff Beau Arlen. And when he saw that Jensen was like 'oh, he just wrote this for me', and it sounded fun so that was it. He watched the show a little bit to see what they may be missing from the story and the characters, and he thought Beau brought some levity to the show, which he enjoys.

He signed on for one season and we’ll see where that goes, he has a few more months on that project. That people will ask him what it’s like to go on a show that’s already going after being the co-lead of a show for 15yrs, and he says it was his and Jared's dinner party for 15yrs and now he’s going to somebody else’s house and having fun at their party. There are different faces and with that are different personalities and dramas and friendships and jokes but he will say that all of his old stuff from spn is all new now. That he just continues to do his outdated material with a new audience and they are loving it. That he’s like the s3 go-to guest, and he’s got something cooking about what’s next. x

Was it more fun for him to play a flawed hero like Dean or a messed-up asshole like Soldier Boy? 

If he had to choose he would play Dean cause inherently at the end of the day he’s a good guy. He thinks Soldier Boy is a good guy in his mind and was probably a good guy at some point but due to the world he lived in and the role he was asked to play and accepted and brought on and embodied, and due to all his childhood trauma it turned him into a very very flawed character.

But again a character that in his mind was doing the right thing, and he thinks that’s what was such a rich part about that character is that he’s not a bad guy he’s the guy looking at everybody else going 'you’re all messed up' and that was a really interesting dynamic for him and something he really enjoyed playing because he thinks that there are certainly people in this world that exist that are like that, that are blind to social development, to learning how society changes. And when you're stuck in your ways that can be a big detriment to your development as a human, and he knows people like that and he's sure everybody does, people that just don't want to change.

Says that there’s been a lot of social things that have happened in the past 5-10yrs that have really challenged people in what they think is right or wrong or normal and he feels like for him personally you always wanna evolve and learn about others and yourself, that’s how you get to grow and be better as a society but some people are like 'I’m not doing that' so it was challenging in a fulfilling way to play that character in a world that didn’t accept him.

If Soldier Boy existed today he’d be canceled but in his mind, he’d say 'you're canceled, everybody else is canceled' so finding that voice and finding that tone for him was a lot of fun to do in a world like that; so even though in Soldier Boy's mind he’s the hero of his own story and he’s inherently a good guy by his standards, he is a heavily flawed character by societies standard.

While Dean is a hero in both worlds, he might be rough around the edges and flawed to a certain degree but at the end of the day, both Dean and society can agree that he’s a good guy with a good heart and a good compass and is doing the good fight. Definitely, two different characters in two different worlds but he enjoyed playing them both. x

If Dean and Soldier Boy met how would they feel about each other?

He thinks they would bond immediately, and then Dean would realize Soldier Boy is a complete toxic asshole and say he couldn’t hang out with him anymore because he’s gonna get him in trouble.

Jensen says it would be an interesting kind of social experiment to see what those two would do on a road trip together. The fan who asked the question asks if Soldier Boy would be allowed in the Impala, Jensen answers that as long as he doesn't get the heartburn 🤣 That as long as he didn't blow the thing up he would be although Soldier Boy would wanna pick the music so that might be a problem there. But at the end of the day, Dean would say "now I’m gonna have to kick your ass" and then he'd get destroyed. x

Then there's a rude ass question that wasn't even a question that we're gonna skip but some of you lack decency and it shows.

And to finish off the panel, what advice would he have given himself when he was 15?

The fan who asks this is 15 and Jensen asks him what kind of advice he's looking for, life advice, profession, girls, boys? The fan is looking for life advice. Jensen says this to actors but it relates to life in general: we don’t have to do this, we get to do this. This is a life we get to have and we don’t deserve it so spend every day earning it. x

And that was the end of the panel. If you wanna watch it yourself, like I said I'm providing two different starting points:

Jensen going on stage and talking with Jason Mann's

Jensen solo panel

#idk how to tag this because I feel like I can't put it in the main tags so #jensen jib panel #i agreed to watch a movie with a friend and i'm already late so it's going tagless until i can figure something out #mine

[tkc-info]

Of Traditions and Young Love

Day 6 - tradition

@wagner-fell @chibi-tsukiko @littleturtle95

1887

Genevieve remembered being a little girl and so very jealous of her mother.

Eliora McLelland, born Eliora Rothschild, had lived the first ten years of her life in the heart of a Jewish community in the German Confederation. In 1819, her family had been forced to flee to Scotland as a result of growing violence against Jews back home. However, up until that year, she’d had a family and friends with which to celebrate their religion’s most important holidays; she’d been surrounded by Jewish people of all ages at all times. And Genevieve had never had that.

Her maternal grandmother and uncles had been killed in Nuremberg —‘stayed in Bavaria’, as Mama used to say— and her grandfather had perished before Genevieve reached two years of age. Her Papa’s family were all Christian and had disowned him when he decided to convert to Judaism, thus it would be absurd to expect them over for Passover or Hanukkah. They didn’t have a great deal of Jewish neighbours, either, and if they did, they had always been ancient matrons, widowed men that expected women to fulfil the role of their late wives, or infants. All in all, no good company for Genevieve, who had spent her childhood resenting her mother for abandoning —thus preventing Genevieve to live in— the place her child’s eyes had withheld as an earthen paradise.

Only with the passing of the years had Genevieve come to realise that her mother hadn’t abandoned her homeland. Her homeland had betrayed her, as well as the many other Jews who’d been forced to emigrate. When Genevieve had been a little girl, she’d only seen the happiness in her mother’s remembrances, not the pain nor the yearning for a different life nor the mourning of a lost childhood. But now, watching her mother converse with Mr. Camille Woolaham of her last Passover in Nuremberg, Genevieve could see the balance of the good and the bad, and how there were times in which the scale tipped over the darker side.

“It had been the first Seder since Frau Weizmann passed away,” Mama was saying. Her silver hair hidden under a black tichel to pair up with her mourning clothes; her wrinkled skin but a faint echo of the girl she’d been “Thus my grandfather,” she continued saying while Camille nodded sombrely “Had to preside over the feast for the first time, as he had become the oldest. You see, we were a great many of us, and in order to ensure events were as little chaotic as possible, the oldest member of our community was entreated to read from the Haggadah. My grandfather was a rather good speaker, but we could all feel Frau Weizmann’s—” she turned to Genevieve and, in Yiddish, requested she translated a word into English.

“Spirit?” Genevieve offered.

She wasn’t quite sitting at the table, rather at a nearby chair watching as the maids cleared the plates.

Mama shrugged. “I suppose,” she turned back to Camille “Where was I? Ah, yes, Frau Weizmann. She was a frightening woman. Rather minuscule of height but fierce of character. My brother had a tendency of sneaking into her kitchen to steal the lekach she made, and when she inevitably got wind of his actions, she compelled him to eat every lekach she had at the moment. Abraham never once asked for any again.”

Camille let out a half-sympathetic hum.

“Naturally, Mr. Woolaham, you as a man, and especially as an Englishman, aren’t familiar with—”

“Mama,” Genevieve hastily interrupted “Do cease talking about food. You extensively told both the Misters Woolaham about your opinion on their country’s cuisine.”

Mama rolled her eyes. She had a particular manner of executing the gesture that elicited tremendous annoyance within Genevieve, for her mother was the loveliest person she knew, but she was also excruciatingly talkative in regards to the matters of culinary differences between the Ashkenazim and just about everyone else.

Camille gave Genevieve a covert nod of gratitude. However, not a second had passed before her mother commenced talking again.

“Genevieve Dinah Eichenwald McLelland, I am— What in the world are you in such a state for, girl?”

The girl in question was none other than Genevieve’s firstborn daughter, born fourteen years ago. Young Madeleine had inherited many of Genevieve’s physical attributes, including her red hair, ghostly-white skin and predisposition for bouts of incorrigible blushing. Such as was the case as of present.

“What state?” Leine protested in a too-high tone “Bube, surely your old eyes are playing tricks on you.”

“Mine are not playing tricks on me,” Genevieve said, rising from her seat as she watched —not with a small degree of private satisfaction— her daughter’s back straighten “What happened?”

“Nothing!” Leine upturned the realm of possibility and blushed even fiercer.

Camille focused on his exquisitely-tailored jacket. A small smile dancing on his lips. Genevieve would inquire after it later —he was fiendishly bright and along their acquaintanceship she’d come to learn that he oftentimes noticed what most didn’t. However, for the time being, she simply lifted her skirts slightly and went to Leine’s side.

“What happened?” she insisted; then, remembering something, or rather someone, frowned “Where is Daniel?”

More colour rose to Leine’s cheeks. She shook her head violently. “Nowhere.”

“I believe he was with Marcus and Viktor, hiding the afikoman,” Camille intervened “Apologies for my horrible pronunciation.”

Mama waved him aside. “I’ve heard worse.”

Camille smiled charmingly. He’d grown rather a lot, from the sullen boy clad in dresses to a confident, content man. Age and wisdom and manhood suited him. “Shall we look for them?” he proposed to Leine as he offered a bent arm “I wish to speak with my husband.”

“Very well,” Leine smiled widely, retreating from Genevieve and going to Camille “We shall do that. You are simply the absolute best uncle, Uncle Camille,” shockingly, she pressed her lips briefly against Camille’s cheek, which she hadn’t done largely since she was a child “I love you.”

Camille hummed. He said his goodbyes to Mama and Genevieve and went out the room, in conversation with Leine. Genevieve would’ve wanted to know what they were talking about, but, alas, they were practically whispering.

“Mr. Woolaham,” Mama supplied a theory when Genevieve expressed her curiosity “Is likely scolding Madeleine for her romance with Daniel Kirkham. And he does good, I say!”

Genevieve’s eyes widened. “Preposterous,” she cried “Leine and Daniel are but friends.”

Mama arched an unimpressed eyebrow at her.

“They are,” Genevieve pressed on “Daniel is a handsome, good boy, but he’s shared a crib with Madeleine. They’ve known each other since childhood.”

“So?”

“One doesn’t fall in love with childhood friends.”

“Bubbeleh, your father was the love of my life, but I promise that supposition is utterly wrong.”

Genevieve brought her fingers to her head, whereupon she began massaging her temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache seeping in. “Impossible, it’s simply impossible,” and, before Mama could voice a reply, she added “Please, I entreat you to keep quiet.”

She truly, fully hoped her mother was wrong. However much Genevieve adored Daniel, he was Christian —even if, on account of Aaron and Sydney’s agnosticism, he didn’t practice Christianity much, if at all— and Leine was Jewish. Their union was politically and religiously impossible, and upon her word, Genevieve wouldn’t have her daughter romantically involved with a man that wasn’t her husband. Such a lifestyle would doom her in the eyes of society.

A presence arrived in the dining room before her worry spiralled down to panic. Viktor Eichenwald, her husband, looked radiant and perfectly content. He had never been the handsomest, doted with who some would call a too-small head and too-odd height, but his smile was the most spectacular among men. He was also intelligent, kind, devoted to Judaism and his family. Capable of harbouring feelings for both men and women, like Genevieve was, thus dulling down her feelings of otherness. He was perfect.

“The kids will never find the afikoman,” he announced proudly after nodding to Mama and kissing his wife’s brow for a brief second.

“You do know they must find it, don’t you?” Genevieve reminded him, her hands on his forearms. She attempted to forget her worries about her daughter “Before midnight, in fact.”

The search for the afikoman —a half-piece of the matzo eaten during the Seder— was a crucial part of Passover. Viktor hid it every year in some obscure nook of their home, and very proudly announced, also yearly, that their children would never be able to find it.

“I’ve enlisted Marcus to help them,” Viktor reassured her.

“A good man,” Mama piped in “I remember a man, Bartholomew Krausz, who was just like him. Every girl wanted him as a husband.”

“Camille is lucky,” Genevieve commented before turning fully to her husband “Where are the kids?”

“Abraham, Hans, Adele and Sophia are with Aaron and Sydney, in the backyard.”

“And Daniel?”

Viktor shrugged. “Somewhere away with Madeleine, I gather. Those two have always been tight.”

From the corner of her eye, Genevieve caught one of her mother’s smirks. She felt the urge to stomp on the floor like a little girl, but thought it best to refrain from doing so. Instead, she got on her tiptoes to kiss her husband’s cheek and said, “You remain here with my mother while I rendezvous with Aaron, Sydney and the kids.”

She waited only for Mama’s ‘take a seat, Herr Eichenwald’ to exit the dining room.

Camille must’ve joined his brother and the rest a few minutes ago, for his form was the first Genevieve’s eyes set on upon arriving into the backyard. He was with his husband; Marcus was laying on the grass with his head on Camille’s lap, and Sophia —Genevieve’s five-year old daughter— sat crosslegged before him, smiling excitedly at something Marcus was saying. Genevieve next noticed her two sons: Abraham —twelve— and Hans —eleven. They looked a fright, what with their mud-stained suits (which Genevieve realised matched Marcus’s), disheveled mass of curls and kippahs close to falling to the ground. It was impossible to get them to remain still for more than thirty minutes; in that regard, they were much like Genevieve herself in her youth.

Aaron and Sydney were with Adele, nine. Most likely, the later man was relating her one of those princess fairytales she was so very fond of. Seconds later, Daniel also appeared from within the woods nearby as if his fathers had summoned him out of thin air. His eyes flickered to Genevieve. A shock of sorts seemed to pass down his back which caused him to straighten, and he announced, in a tight voice. “Good day, I didn’t expect you here.”

Genevieve arched a brow. The greeting had been so formal, so odd coming from careless Daniel, that it didn’t only elicit a response from Genevieve, but from everyone else, too. The kids looked up to him with frowns seeping with confusion, Camille hastened to bow down to whisper something into his husband’s ear —to which Marcus replied with a whisper of his own— and Aaron and Sydney inquired after their son’s formality with no little degree of amusement.

“There is nothing odd about being formal,” Daniel protested as an attempt at defence “Mr. Risewell continuously chastises us for the use of colloquialisms.”

“That might have something to do with the fact that he’s your teacher,” Aaron offered.

“This isn’t Eton, lad,” Sydney added.

Genevieve felt the beginnings of a smile tugging her lips upwards as Daniel further adopted a stance of defensiveness, and his fathers thus continued teasing him for erring on the side of formality. They were a lovely family, antithetical to everything society —any society— stood for, but with such successful bonds Genevieve couldn’t help but feel hopeful that, one day, the world would know how innocent, how good, families like theirs could be.

“Daniel,” Sophia eventually inquired “Where is Leine?”

“Er,” Daniel looked at Genevieve, then shifted his gaze to his hands, which he inspected thoroughly “How could I be expected to know? Oughtn’t you be searching for something?”

Sophia cocked her little head to the side. “What?”

“The afikoman, darling,” Marcus reminded her at the same time as he fondly tugged at one of her pigtails.

“Did Papa hide it again this year?”

“Every Passover, bubbeleh,” Genevieve told her.

Sophia’s eyes widened impossibly. “Really? He’s quite naughty, isn’t he?”

Genevieve laughed. “Indeed.”

She was about to add something else, but then Abraham asked, “And where is he?”

“In the dining room, with Bube, since none of you wanted to keep your ageing grandmother entertained,” she dutifully replied. Perhaps against her better wishes, for it only took Abraham a glance at Hans as soon as that last word had left her mouth, for the boys to dart into the house. Consecutively, Adele hopped to her feet and dashed after her older brothers.

“I should go with them. They truly will need help,” Marcus stood up and extended a hand at Camille “Care to keep me company, Mr. Woolaham?”

Camille clasped his hand. “Gladly, Mr. Woolaham.”

After they left, Sophia turned to Genevieve. “Really, Mummy, you ought to halt Papa’s wicked ways.”

“What do you mean?” Genevieve asked, smiling.

“He can’t keep stealing the afikoman, Mummy,” Sophia protested “How else are we supposed not to starve to death if he takes away our food?”

“Bubbeleh, you’re being a wee dramatic, don’t you think?” Genevieve kneeled down and tugged a strand of hair behind her daughter’s ear “One of the funner parts of Passover is finding the afikoman,” she glanced up and found Daniel staring intently at her, though the moment she took notice of it, he averted his eyes “Daniel, won’t you guide Sophia to the dining room? Sophia, dearest, your siblings can’t find the afikoman without your fierce intellect helping them.”

Sophia seemed unwilling. Thankfully, a tiny bit of pressuring on Sydney’s side (‘Marcus will also need your aid’) finally convinced her to acquiesce.

“My apologies for the excess of formality,” Daniel murmured before Sophia ushered him inside.

Genevieve watched his retreating form, deep in thought. She went back to her mother’s words, her belief that Daniel and Leine were romancing one another, how unfathomable it had seemed then —and how un-impossible it seemed now. Why else would Daniel abandon his familiarity so suddenly? Why else had Genevieve not once seen Daniel and Leine together, when they used to be attached by the hip?

The notion of her daughter being in love with a man who wasn’t Jewish, shockingly, didn’t upset Genevieve. Leine loved her religion —of that Genevieve was sure— but one could easily be entranced by a Christian or an atheist. Genevieve ought to know: Madeleine Woolaham had captured her heart so very many years ago, and though time and her death had dulled Genevieve’s love into mere fondness, her past passion had been real. She worried about the repercussions their love would have on their lives, were they to seek their union, but Genevieve was none to judge.

“Daniel is a good boy,” she heard herself mutter.

“He’s grown rather a lot,” Aaron replied from behind her.

They and Sydney were now the only ones in the backyard.

“Into a fine, young man,” Sydney added.

“I remember still when you brought him home. The night of the thirty-first of December.”

Genevieve turned to them, curious. The matters involving Daniel’s adoption were puzzling, to say the least. One day it had just been Aaron and Sydney, the next they were bringing along an infant for Passover. Genevieve had inquired after it only once —on Daniel’s baptism— but Sydney had made it adamantly clear that no one but Daniel himself was entitled to that knowledge, and that nothing would be disclosed without his consent, which Daniel clearly had never given.

“He should spend the rest of April here,” Genevieve proposed so as to put a halt to her friends’s dwellings.

Aaron arched a blond eyebrow at her. “That’s not our tradition.”

He’d said ‘tradition’ with so much ease it took Genevieve a second to register his words, and then be shocked about them. They’d never before talked about traditions they had built until that moment, but they did have traditions. Aaron, Sydney and Daniel —sometimes accompanied by Marcus and Camille— always went to Scotland for Passover and Hanukkah. Genevieve’s family always went to England for Christmas and their New Years. All of that was to be expected, awaited year-round, and Genevieve felt delighted by it.

“Daniel’s been terribly busy since he got into Eton,” Genevieve said, trying to conceal her happiness so as to further observe the subject at hand “Leine and my other kids would love some extended time with him,” she smiled “You two old men are permitted to stay, as well.”

“How kind of you,” Aaron commented “Is there anything that would inconvenience our stay?”

Sydney shook his head. “Not with your sister being in charge,” lazily, he hooked an arm around Aaron’s waist and rested his head on his shoulder “With that woman in charge, we could be leaving for the moon and everything would be fine.”

“She’s terrifying,” Aaron murmured.

“She is.”

“So you will stay?” Genevieve asked.

Aaron nodded. “We will.”

Just as he said that, a girlish laugh reached their ears. “I found it!” Sophia cried from within the house “The afikoman!” and then “No, Papa, you can’t have it! I shall give some to Marcus, but not you!”

Genevieve looked at her friends. “Seems like we must get back inside.”

Sydney’s hum was muffled by Aaron’s jacket.

“Let us go.” 

#oc-tober 2022 #oc tober 2022 #oc tober

[harrison-abbott]

Misunderstood War

There was a petition across that side of the city for the statue of this dead man to be taken down. Ever since the new government had taken the helm there were lots of things like this in the news – of things like statues being removed and old laws being overturned. Confusing times indeed.

The petition, regarding this statue, was accepted by the local MP: who gave the order for it to be demolished. They sent a band of men from the council to do it. None of them quite knew who this statue person was. They’d never met him physically because he had died two hundred and fifty years back, and as for his history they were fairly scant. All they had was a block of stone to deal with in a courtyard, surrounded by a rushing roundabout.

It seemed like a tricky task – to dismember this stoney man, who wore plush clothes and long boots and had flashy facial hair. They set to work with their tools.

They arrived in the early morning. And around ten or so, a gabble of reporters came up to take photos. One of them asked a workman what his opinion of all of this was – and the latter declined to comment, because he didn’t know, and had never spoken to a journalist before.

More and more public members started to arrive. There were groups of people clapping and cheering, as the men drilled and hammered. The workmen had never really quite done anything like this and it set through all of them that type of unease whence in a public environment that one doesn’t comprehend.

At noon, something totally different happened. A pair of vans turned up in the courtyard. Just their incongruous presence (for you weren’t supposed to drive on the courtyard) made everybody look up and turn.

And then a gang of men bashed out of the vans, wearing masks, and carrying clubs and bats. They ran towards the crowd. The public and the workmen. And began beating them with their weapons. Screams, yells. A workman who had been drilling got smacked in the side of the head and it knocked him out. And his friend/colleague attacked the attacker back with the hammer he was holding.

Which incensed the masked men altogether and they set upon the workmen with crazed gusto.

People fled from the yard. Or they stood on the outskirts, filming the scenes with their phones. They captured footage of what was now a battle between the workmen and the masked men, next to the semi-demolished statue of that once-great man – whom only the masked men knew anything about.

The footage would wind up on national news by the evening: for, modern media does enjoy a bit of content that “includes upsetting scenes”, doesn’t it?

Somebody called the police. And quite the barrage of fluorescent trucks turned up. When they approached the middle of the square it was quite tell which side to arrest – because all they saw were men of duel sides pummelling each other with heavy tools. Another misunderstood war.

#writeblr #creative writing #prose #writers on tumblr #spilled ink #spilled words #stories #short fiction #tumblr writers #fiction #short story #flash fiction

[aajjks]

Girls, I need opinions please...

Ok so... There's a guy that I help out with math. Sometimes he says things where I can't tell if he's being nice or if he's being mean to me. We chat occasionally, but not often. He messages me in the middle of the night to ask for math help on nights when we're both studying late. We tease each other occasionally, but sometimes I can't tell if he's being nice, rude or just humourous.

My class is having a dinner night for the end of the year which is kinda like prom, but not quite. I messaged on a class group chat to ask what the other girls are wearing, so that I know how to plan my outfit. He started giving me fashion advice for some strange reason. Then all of a sudden, he was like, "Don't worry about the others girls. They're not gonna look good. Remember you need to look better than all them girls 🫦". I don't know how to interpret that, so I just responded by saying that it's not a competition.

So my first question to y'all is... Does he like me, or am I just reading into things too much??? I don't wanna be weird and think he likes me if he doesn't, but I also don't wanna be oblivious if he does. He's not that much of an extrovert, so would he really flirt with me on a group chat in front of others?

Secondly, if he does like me, how do I deal with this situation? I don't know him that well. I've never been hit on by someone I know before though. Strangers have done it, but not someone that I know.

And then... girrrrlllls, I need to know what to wear! OMG I'm stressing out about this so much! Alinaaaaa... What would a Princess wear? I wanna be a flower in a ball gown, but I don't know which one!!! Pink suits my complexion, but black is slicker, but turquoise is perrrrty, but I like purple... GAH!

Honestly, if I were you, I wouldn’t give him the benefit of the doubt.. I would observe him a little more and I just think that he’s a little flirty because he keeps giving you mixed signals and that’s not really a good thing, but then again, any guy that has tried flirting with me either in school or anywhere I’ve turned them down, but I guess they were a little more upfront than this guy and maybe he is trying to flirt with you like the remark he made regarding your clothes, Maybe he secretly likes you who knows.

And you shouldn’t have to deal with anything until he directly confesses to you about his feelings you know just don’t think about it too much. Wait for him to reach out for you.

Also, I think you’re already a princess and my favorite colors are purple and gray. I am a person that likes dark colors so maybe I would choose black if I were you but I think you’re gonna rock either of the colors uwu

#asks

[chimielie]

simmer

summary: Futakuchi x Reader. good god when the garlic and onions hit the olive oil

word count: 2.6k

cw: a great deal of food/cooking, handling of raw meat, kenji being a shithead

a/n: written for pandora's (@sourstars) iloveyou collab with the sense taste!! this was so fun even though it took me literally one thousand years after the due date to finish and i'm so sorry about that lskdfjlsd congrats my beloved and i hope the product makes the wait worth it <3 i love you muchly

You could swear this is the fifth time the fire alarm’s been set off this month. In your not-so-humble opinion, that is five times too fucking many.

You roll out of bed, making low, furious noises as you shrug on your coat and grab your keys before slamming your door open, stalking out to wait with the rest of your irate neighbors while they inspect the building. At this point, you’ve built up an immunity to the anxiety most develop of the siren sounding. Every other time, the fire hasn’t been an actual fire; your possessions and living space will be fine.

“Seriously,” you vent into the air. “Who is doing this? It was bad enough during the day, but interrupting my sleep might turn me into a murderer.”

“No idea,” the person next to you says, his voice dry. “I feel sorry for the poor motherfucker when you catch him, though.”

“Don’t make fun,” you complain, turning to him. “Aren’t you miserable?”

“Not particularly,” he shrugs. “Starving, maybe, but I brought my slippers, see? So I’m very cozy.”

You eye him, fuzzy slides to sandy hair. He’s not wearing pajamas like most of you, but a hoodie beneath a flannel beneath a denim jacket, loose jeans, and thick socks covering his would-be-exposed toes. Your gaze connects with his, and you get the odd sense that he’s laughing at you.

“I’m fighting off the urge to mug you right now,” you say, sarcasm coloring your words as you cock your hip and regard him with artfully unimpressed eyes.

“I would never let you take my fuzzy slippers,” he vows. “I’ll protect them with my life, I’ll have you know. You seem like the violent type.”

“I am,” you agree. “Especially in the middle of the night.”

“Could you live with yourself if you killed me, though?” You hate everyone you speak to immediately after waking up, but he’s proving to be an exception. Obnoxious. “Society would lose so much if this face and body were destroyed.”

“I can’t really see the body under all that fabric,” you twist your lips. “And the face… I think we’ll survive.”

“Don’t try to provoke me into stripping for you,” he turns his nose (which is admittedly pert and well-centered and suits him nicely) up. “Because I’ll do it.”

“If you’re going to strip,” you reply, “give me your jacket. I’ll respect your fuzzy slippers, but I don’t want to waste a good layer.”

“Of course you can have my jacket. I think you’d look so good in it.” His smile is sly. You reach for a witty retort, but your well of words seems to have run dry. His bangs are blowing in the wind and the color of his eyes seems to shift under the night lights, dancing hypnotically with mirth. Everything about this man screams good time. “What’s your name, if I’m putting my clothes and life in your hands?”

“You’re so dramatic,” you huff, but share it nevertheless.

“Pretty,” he offers you a small grin. “I’m Futakuchi Kenji.”

“I didn’t ask.” You glance at him from the corner of your eye. He doesn’t seem particularly fazed, and he catches you looking. God, he’s cute.

A small commotion distracts you temporarily from the most bearable thing about this situation, firefighters pushing through the crowd and calling out for someone. You recognize one of them — Daichi Sawamura, one of your seniors back in high school, and wave him over.

“What’s going on? Is everything okay?” So maybe you’re not totally immune to fear of fire.

“Oh, yeah, another false alarm,” he says, eyes bright and voice soothing. “We’re just looking for the owner of the apartment, trying to see what the problem was this time.”

“Hi, Sawamura!” Your new neighborly friend-friendly neighbor steps forward, expression barely sheepish. “Long time no see.”

You glance between the two of them, at Sawamura’s attempt at sternness, at Futakuchi’s poor apology, and the wires in your brain connect and light a neon sign that blinks repeatedly behind your eyelids.

You hate this guy.

Futakuchi hates to admit it, but he’s slipping into a routine. He wakes up at the asscrack of dawn, brushes his teeth in the dark, and eats last night’s leftovers for breakfast. He worms into his uniform, notices that it’s starting to get a little tight around the shoulders lately and pats himself on the back for it, heads out the door, realizes that he’s forgotten something, like his rail pass or his jacket, and leaves for work. Work is generally uneventful — there’s always something to complain about, but he gets that all out of his system at volleyball off the clock. By the time he gets home, he’s generally in a pretty good mood and ready to relax.

He’s always considered himself a pretty youthful, even slightly immature (though charming!) kind of guy. This sense of maturity is honestly a little alarming to feel overtaking him, as though he’s been possessed by some kind of demon of adulthood and healthy habits.

Admittedly, his diet has not quite caught on to this new theme, so he’s still eating convenience store noodles every day. He has mixed feelings about this, which is why Aone recommended that he learn to cook.

Well. Look how well that turned out.

It turned out so badly that he is shamefacedly going to an entirely new grocery to buy his silly little noodles and some canned coffee, because he really does think one of his neighbors is going to come after him with an axe if he sets off the fire alarm one more time, to say nothing of the risks to his health caused by actually eating his culinary failures. It turned out so badly that he is staring between two packs of noodles — one flavor packet extra spicy, the other extra extra spicy — and wondering if burning off his taste buds will erase the memory of his attempt at cooking.

“My vote’s on the extra extra spicy,” you say from behind him in the queue. Displaying his lightning-fast reflexes and extreme athletic prowess, Futakuchi flinches, attempts a half turn that twists his feet together, and falls squarely on his ass. You watch on with amusement and not a little satisfaction. Serves him right for forcing you to leave your bed and not even having the decency to invite you to share his. Not that the latter part is relevant, or true, or anything.

“Sorry,” you say, offering a hand to help him up. His eyes lock onto yours, face burning. You get the impression that this is not a man who blushes easily. “Were you really hungry?”

“Yes, right,” he says, trying to recover himself from the world tilting on its precarious axis. “What?”

“You seemed really focused on the noodles,” you trail off.

“Ah, not really, no, especially not when I’ve been eating these for way too long already,” he wrinkles his nose. “Just… thinking.”

“Oh?” Your eyes widen with recognition. “Was that why you kept setting off the fire alarm?”

“Shh,” he says, stepping closer to you. “I’ve heard some people were kind of pissed about that.”

“Was that why you kept setting off the fire alarm?” You ask, in a very loud whisper. Futakuchi doesn’t see the point in trying to hedge around it.

“Yes.”

“For a good-looking guy, you’re incompetent,” you say thoughtfully, and he frowns, but only a little. He’ll take what he can get. “Come to my place sometimes, I’ll show you how to cook without setting off any sirens.”

“No, that’s really okay,” he holds a hand up to deny you.

“I can come to yours if it’s easier for you. We live in the same building, after all.”

“You don’t have to—”

“You’re next in line,” you shove him forward lightly. “See ya, neighbor!”

He’s nearly forgotten all about the encounter by the time a smart knock sounds through the apartment, disrupting his mid-evening vegetation time. He answers the door unsuspectingly and is confronted with the sight of a basket of market goods, leafy greens sticking out of the top.

Not that kind of vegetation, for crying out loud!

The bushel of greenery is moved to the side to reveal your smiling face, and he realizes suddenly that he’s very enthusiastic about vegetables, thanks ever so much. Never appreciated a good ‘chini (of the zucc persuasion) so much in his whole life.

“What’re you doing?” He says suavely as you busy past him and starting putting things — weird, foreign-looking things, like spinach and a cardboard package and a bunch of little jars, what —

“I brought my own spices,” you say, casting a critical eye over his kitchen, “but not my own rice. I hope you have that?”

He’s grateful he does. If he didn’t, it wouldn’t be embarrassing anyway, because you’re the one who barged in here to give him unasked for and debatably unneeded cooking lessons. But he does. So there.

“Do you have any allergies or anything? I assumed oyakodon would be safe, but if you don’t like it, we can try something else. Do you know how to fry an egg?”

“I know how to fry an egg,” he says indignantly. “And oyakodon is fine. I can eat anything.”

You hum in response.

“How did you even know which apartment I am?”

“I bumped into Mr. Tomura, you know, the elderly man with all the dogs, in the elevator, and he told me. He also said he was concerned about your vision, he doesn’t like how all the youth wear their hair in their eyes these days.”

“I can see fine,” he huffs. “And my hair looks good like this.”

“I don’t disagree. Can you tie my apron for me?” You ask, turning your back toward him, holding out the two straps. He steps in close, and if he inhales a lungful of the scent of your shampoo, it was an accident. He’s so glad he made the genius decision to take cooking lessons from you.

“Whenever you’re ready, chef,” he says mockingly. You slap his arm.

“That’s the spirit.”

The broth comes first, and there’s not really anything for him to fuck up there. You order him to chop up the green onion while you beat an egg and warn him that you’ll make him do the next one.

Everything is going great until the chicken.

“I don’t want to touch raw meat,” he whines. “It’s gross. Gross!”

You hold out a chicken thigh, pink and juicy and it wiggles when you move it. He cringes away, only playing up the melodrama a little bit.

“You are a grown man. Cut the chicken! Cut the—”

You grab his hand and put it on the knife. Well, fine, if you insist. And if you leave your soft hand over his, guiding his movements, it’s not so bad.

You divide the ingredients in half to cook it, and he nearly burns his, but you click some magical button on the machine above the stove and it makes the smoky smell go away, and chide him to pay attention to when things are sticking. You also recommend setting a timer and keeping the heat on low. He nods fervently and seriously considers writing it down, but ultimately decides that that would be dorky.

“This is good,” Futakuchi stares at you, his first bite still in his open mouth, eyes the size of twin moons. He chews quickly and swallows hard. “You made me make good food.”

“I’m glad you like it,” you purse your lips and blow on your own portion.

“No, you don’t understand,” he says, standing up and putting his hands on your shoulders. You drop your bite. “You are a miracle worker.”

After that, it’s settled: this isn’t the last cooking lesson you’ll give him.

You teach him soups and salads and entrées. You teach him to add twice the amount of garlic. You teach him all kinds of recipes that look so much more complicated than they are, and then you start in on actually complicated things, and sometimes it doesn’t go right but it always feels good. Putting his hand on your lower back as he passes you by is a flirty move at first, charged and intentional, and then it becomes second nature, and now you lean into his touch, bump him with your hip when he’s cleared the straits, and it’s flirty all over again in a different way. You smudge flour over his nose without an ounce of hesitation, lick frosting off his fingers and find yourself giggling about his failure of an icing job a second later, make space for yourself in his life like you’re filling a gap that was always empty.

Futakuchi thinks he’s settled pretty nicely into his routine; he’s learning to appreciate it for what it is, just like he appreciated the riptide of his college adventures. There are ups and downs, and, holy fuck, has today been a down.

Most of the time, he encounters fairly normal people, even the assholes. Futakuchi’s a bit of an asshole himself, so he’s pretty good at letting passive-aggression and snide remarks slide off. Today, though, there were just a few too many general assholes and one top-notch dickhead, and slamming volleyballs into the hardwood just didn’t feel as good as he’d thought it would, which pissed him off even more, and he just wants to go to bed so this terrible day can be over. When he unlocks the door and closes it behind him with a heavy sigh, though, he’s not greeted with the discouraging sight of an apartment bare except for empty glasses in the sink and wrappers left on the coffee table.

You sit on the counter, swinging your legs back and forth, the spare key he gave you dangling from your right hand.

He’s not even startled, even though it’s the first time you’ve come in without knocking. Instead, he’s just struck by the relief that floods him and the gratitude he feels. He shucks off his jacket and shoes as fast as he can and heads straight for you, stepping between your legs and dropping his head on your shoulder without preamble. One of your hands finds its way into his hair and he nearly purrs at the feeling, going half-limp on top of you while you use your other hand to support yourself on the counter.

After a few full of minutes of decompressing like this, he pulls back just enough to rest his forehead on yours.

“I had the shittiest day at work,” you say before he can start.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, I — ugh, I don’t even want to talk about it. I was basically asleep the last couple hours and I ended up coming straight here instead of my own place by accident. I don’t know why.”

“I thought you’d sensed that I’d had a shitty day — ‘cause I did — and somehow knew,” he laughs quietly. “What a bonding force.”

“If it is, I’m gonna find a way to blame it on you,” you say.

“The world is so unfair,” he complains. “You shouldn’t be this mean to me. It’s an injustice, I say.”

“Oh, hush,” he can feel you smiling more than he can see it. “Today wasn’t that bad, I guess, in the end. You’re off the hook.” He takes a deep breath.

“You don’t happen to feel up to cooking tonight, do you?”

“Don’t push your luck,” you push him, and your heart seizes a little when you see his honey-brown eyes staring right down to your soul.

“Then let’s go out. No cooking, good food, I’ll even pay.”

“Are you asking me on a date, Kenji?”

“Officially, yeah.” His smile is devastating. You hate him.

“If you let me borrow your jacket, then it’s an unequivocal yes.”

“Always making me work for it,” he says easily. Everything’s easy with him. “Of course. It’s all yours.”

#pandora's iloveyou collab #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq!! x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #futakuchi kenji x reader #futakuchi x reader #futakuchi fluff #haikyuu x reader fluff #haikyuu!! fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!! x reader fluff #hq!! fluff #hq x reader fluff

[crazygalore]

GABRIEL MAY (MALIGNANT) NSFW ALPHABET

TW: mentions of dysmorphia, NSFW

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Surprisingly, Gabriel actually NEEDS it, after each lovemaking session - no matter how gentle or how rough he was with you. He’ll draw the both of you a hot bath, and help you wash yourself. If you return the favour, this boy will positively melt, and let out tiny noises that sound suspiciously similar to little purrs. Afterwards, once he has patted your dry with a fluffy towel and dressed you in your favourite pyjamas, Gabriel will carry you to bed, and place you under the covers. Then, he will bring your favourite snacks and beverage, to enjoy while you huddle together to watch a movie before falling asleep.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Gabriel could never pick just one thing he loves about you - because he practically worships you body and soul. You are infinitely beautiful in his eyes, and the fact that you love and accept him for who he is feels like a miracle to him.

Since he doesn’t actually have a body of his own, he expresses his identity though clothes that he wears, which are different than the ones owned by Madison. Although they’re not body parts per say, he sees his leather coat and makeshift gold dagger as extensions of himself, and he enjoys donning them whenever he takes over his twin’s body. He will, sometimes, remain fully clothed during sex.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

His pleasure is your pleasure, and he will make you cum as much as possible, if only to enjoy your desperate moans and whimpers. 

Being transmasc and trapped his Madison’s body, he suffers from severe dysmorphia and doesn’t really enjoy being touched intimately. And, as stated HERE, he did communicate with his sister when the two of you decided to become intimate, because he felt like this specific situation called for his sister’s consent. She doesn’t have access to his memories regarding his sex life, though - which is for the best.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It’s not a secret that he loves watching you pleasure yourself. The first time he witnessed it, you weren’t aware he was there, lost as you were in the act, so he quietly enjoyed the show from the door, a smug smirk playing at the corners of his mangled mouth.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

You are Gabriel’s first and only love, and the only person who ever saw him as a human being, worth of respect and adoration. So he doesn’t have that much experience, but he did his research and tried to learn as much as possible about the human body’s erogenous spots. That makes up for his lack of actual physical experience, at least most of the times. But since your guys’ relationship is based on trust, respect and communication, Gabriel is never ashamed to ask what works for you, and what doesn’t.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Missionary, since he usually uses his mouth, fingers or a strap-on to pleasure you - and he wants to be able to look at your face, kiss your lips and hold you in his arms during sex. Gabriel is a very tactile person, and extremely touch-starved, so he actually NEEDS to be held, caressed and comforted. It’s the main reason why he enjoys making love to you so much, because the physical intimacy is something he’d never experienced before.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

I wouldn’t say he’s particularly goofy, but he isn’t very stoic either. If anything awkward ensures during sex, he will try to make you laugh about it, so that you can relax and move on.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He doesn’t actually have a private area of his own, and its pretty much Madison’s business as to how she grooms her nether region. He doesn’t actually care about those parts, since he never uses them.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Very intimate, very romantic and very needy. As stated above, he craves physical contact, and he melts whenever you treat him with gentleness and affection. Hold him, kiss him, caress his scarred cheeks, and tell him how good he makes you feel, and Gabriel will be putty in your hands.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He doesn’t actually partake in this act, as he doesn’t enjoy looking at, or touching the private parts of the body he shares with his sister. But sometimes, he fantasizes about what he would do to you, if he had a body of his own.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Gabriel is surprisingly vanilla, but he can be pretty dominant in the bedroom. He will pin your wrists above your head, as he fucks you into the mattress, or guide you into touching yourself, his voice a mere growl coming from your phone’s speaker. Knife kink, maybe, but only when it comes to cutting off your clothes. He doesn’t wanna hurt you, so unless you insistently ask him to, Gabriel won’t hold his makeshift dagger to your throat, or drag its blade across your skin. After all, he has other ways to let out his violent frustrations, so he feels no need to bring that to the bedroom. He was hurt by people who abhorred him, and he returned the favour years later. Love and violence do not cross paths in Gabriel’s mind.

Also clothed sex, because he enjoys wearing his leather coat and gloves, as he teases your naked body mercilessly.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Anywhere inside the house, but the bedroom is his favourite, because it’s more private and safe. Plus, he enjoys taking his time, so the bed is the most comfortable option when it comes to lengthy lovemaking sessions.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Whenever you treat Gabriel with kindness and love, he will feel the need to bring you pleasure, and show you just how much he covets you. For him, sex is a means of expressing his affection for you - it’s an act of adoration and gratitude.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He will NOT hurt you, ever, no matter how much you insist. You are the only person who has ever treated him right, and he cannot bear the thought of harming you in any way.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Enjoys giving, and is very enthusiastic about it. This boy will eat you out for hours, and has become fucking expert at it. He knows just how to angle his face, and use his teeth and tongue to cause you maximum pleasure. Your taste is heaven to him, and your needy moans and whimpers are music to his ears. He will edge you, he will overstimulate you, he will play your body like a violin, using his mouth and fingers alone.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on the mood. Slow and sensual is his go to, but he can be rough if you ask him to. But regardless of the pace, Gabriel is ALWAYS very passionate, and completely dedicated to your pleasure. Also, this boy is inhumanly strong, so he may end up becoming rough without even realizing it - but in case it becomes too much, all you have to do is tell him, and Gabriel will apologise and treat you more gently.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Not opposed to them, but he prefers taking his time.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He’s willing to try anything, so long as it doesn’t cause you any actual harm. Hickeys and faint finger-shaped bruises happen a lot, since he doesn’t always calibrate his strength properly all the time.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Oh, he could go on forever. Remember he experiences pleasure exclusively through you, so he never gets tired of it.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Oh, yes, 100% a fan of toys, all of them meant to drive you utterly insane with pleasure.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

The most unfair and maddeningly patient tease to ever walk this Earth. He will edge you until you’re crying and begging for release - and only then will he CONSIDER to maybe let you cum.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Low growls and muffled moans are the best he can do - although he may use your phone’s speaker to talk dirty to you.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Gabriel really enjoys sucking on and playing with your nipples. And, yes, he has actually made you cum by solely teasing and fondling your chest.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

As I said, he uses a strap-on, which is just the right length and thickness to bring you maximum pleasure. In fact, the more I think about it, the more inclined I am to believe he consulted with you before buying it.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

I would say his sex drive is medium to low, so unless you initiate it - case in which he will be delighted to take you to the bedroom - he will rarely bring it up. But he does have his moments, when he simply craves your passionate embrace.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It depends. Sometimes he falls asleep as soon as aftercare has been performed, and sometimes he stays awake a little while longer, just to watch you sleep peacefully by his side.

#malignant #gabriel may #gabriel may x reader #malignant imagine #gabriel may imagine #malignant x reader #gabriel may headcanons #malignant headcanons #tw dysmorphia

[lokiskitten]

Tom Hiddleston | Mister Hiddleston

Teacher!Tom Hiddleston x fem!reader

plot : your professor, mister Hiddleston, asks you to stay after class in order to talk to you about one of your recent works. However, it easily takes an unexpected turn.

Warnings : teacher x student relationship, kissing.

The bell finally rang, allowing the entire class to take off for the cafeteria as the sounds of hungry stomachs echoed silently throughout the place. It was noon, and you had just spent a painful hour sitting in English literature class- having to listen to your handsome teacher brag about Romeo and Juliette, which in your opinion was quite a boring play. However, Mr. Hiddleston seemed to be absolutely hypnotized by the love he carried for Shakespeare’s work, which held you back from speaking your thoughts.

Right as you were about to get up from your chair, the older man called after you from where he sat at his desk, requesting for you to stay a little bit longer without even giving you a valuable explanation as to why. Of course, you felt absolutely scattered about not being able to join your friends in order to fill up your empty belly which was seriously beginning to behave out of your control. However, as a student, you simply couldn’t go against any of the adults’ demands.

Though, Mr. Hiddleston was never the typical type of teacher. He was interesting, chatty when it came to sharing with his students, and above all good looking- which was rare for a professor. Yet, all of those fantasies regarding him had to stay secret due to the obvious age gap between the two of you, as well as the profession he practiced. As a teacher, he wasn’t allowed to have a personal link with any of his students, which you were both aware of. However, this unexpected extra class was soon going to take a tragic turn.

It didn’t take long for the classroom to fully empty itself, you and your teacher being the only remaining beings in the room which offered the two of you some privacy to speak about whatever subject your professor wished to refer to. Taking his glasses off his nose as you stepped closer to his desk, Tom then laid them down in front of his muscular forearms before rubbing his palms against one another. He seemed to be peculiarly frustrated, as if something was bothering his experienced soul. Yet you remained quiet, showing respect for this man as his lips parted calmly.

“I wanted to talk to you about your last essay. It’s brillant, really, but.. quite dark, I’m afraid.” The older man revealed, taking ahold of the piece of paper on which was written your perfectly creepy work. You often tended to get your inspiration out of the worst- which was something Tom simply couldn’t be aware of and which easily led him to worry. The teacher looked up at you as he handed you the paper, ocean blue eyes seeking for an explanation which didn’t want to show up. In the end, you felt forced to speak up in order to defend your case.

“It’s just a stupid piece of paper. It’s not like I’m telling you about my life or anything.” You responded on an upset tone, feeling defensive face to your professor’s intrusive questions. However, this wasn’t enough to reassure Tom’s worries. Standing up from his chair, he then allowed his bum to collide with the end of the desk as his arms crossed against his strong chest. He was now towering over you, still waiting for his mind to elaborate a proper diagnostic of its own regarding your mental state. “Y/n...” the older man started, earning a clueless stare coming from your shorter silhouette.

Now, this innocent gaze had cut your professor right through his sentence. He seemed absolutely destabilized face to this sight, lips parting without any words ever escaping his mouth. His eyes easily diverted to your lips, admiring the way they were composed and how they perfectly fitted your other facial features. Even if he would never willingly admit it, Tom had developed a crush on you throughout the classes you spent with him, listening to him, even if it all remained pretty much hidden away in his subconscious.

The grown man worried for your mental health, for your well being. He assumed that it was his role as a tutor to make sure that all of his students were doing well, which he had progressively began to doubt you were. Seeing how you weren’t moving, the professor decided to take the risk to move the back of his hand up to your cheek, ocean blue eyes still staring into yours as he caressed your skin. It was a risky move to make, which easily justified his light shakiness. Tom knew that he would only get one chance, and that if you ever turned out not to share the same feelings as he did, he could say goodbye to his job as a teacher.

Meanwhile, you couldn’t help but unexpectedly loose your capacity to move as you felt your teacher’s veiny hand brush against your cheekbone. However, you didn’t freeze out of fear, but out of pure enhancement and excitement. You were glad that he had proceeded to make the first move, as yourself wouldn’t ever had the required guts to attempt anything with a man who was twice your age, and most importantly your own teacher.

His hand now cupped your entire cheek, causing you to drop the irrelevant paper to the ground as Tom’s face began to dangerously near yours. He leant in, head slightly tilting to the side before his lips finally decided to collide against yours. It felt like an explosion of fireworks in your lower stomach, feeling as his second hand decided to take ahold of your face as he stood up from the desk. This kiss was soft yet genuine, as if Tom had decided to make sure the territory wasn’t hostile before he could fully explore it.

When he pulled away, his thumbs simply began to brush against your cheekbones as your eyes locked, the two of you sharing unspoken words through your respective orbs only. The two of you wanted one another, desperately, and you were now irrevocably in love with him. This kiss had been the tilt which made you fall on the other edge, the tilt which allowed you to be set free from all the held backs you had forced down onto yourself regarding your professor. On another hand, your lack of hostility had managed to ease Tom’s anxious heart.

Leaning in again, he this once pressed a more intense kiss to your lips, body moving closer to yours until the two gently collided against one another. It felt heavenly, his touch and scent easily intoxicating and taking over your organism. Meanwhile, lust was progressively taking over your professor’s mind and body, his breaths becoming rougher as he pressed sloppy kisses against your mouth. Your lips parted, allowing his tongue to slide inside of your wet cave as the two of you continued to share a passionate kiss. His hands were soon to move down from your cheeks to your waist, feeling your curves with those large hands of his.

Unexpectedly, Tom ended up pulling away in order to focus onto the flesh of your neck, sending chills down your spine as his warm breath heated up your once chilly skin. He was getting more and more eager as seconds passed, anxiety still managing to hold your own desires back as your teacher seemed to be in charge of the situation for now. Progressively sneaking down, he began to lay kisses against your clothed chest and stomach, visibly looking forward to lift your shirt once he would’ve arrived all the way down to your crotch, aka his final destination.

You allowed shaky breaths to escape your lips, head tilting back before your face decided to divert down towards the sight of your literature teacher’s gorgeous curly hair. Hesitantly, your hand moved from his shoulder to his mane, caressing the smooth strands and curls which Tom interpreted as the green flag to lift your upper piece of clothing. However, upon feeling him now press kisses against your lower abdomen, you couldn’t help but grow fearful regarding your environment and surroundings.

“Wait-..” you suddenly stopped him in his track, his face looking up at you as his ocean blue eyes were filled with confusion yet understanding. He was ready to listen to whatever complain or worry you felt like laying on the table. Gasping softly, you bit onto the skin of your inner cheek before finally finding the strength to speak up. “Not here.” You begged, not being comfortable with having your first sexual intercourse in a classroom in which anyone could unexpectedly walk in. It wasn’t Tom’s fault, but simply the surroundings’.

Standing back up on his feet, your professor nodded in agreement before attempting to press another kiss to your lips. However, this once you decided to back away, denying his lustful proposal which left the teacher in shock. But above all, he seemed confused. “You’re driving me crazy.” He affirmed lowly, referring to how infatuated he was with your being; and the fact that you now stepped away from him felt just like a dagger digging into his heart. You found yourself biting down onto the skin of your inner cheek again, suddenly feeling nervous face to the man and his many propositions.

“Please. I need to see you again. Tonight.” After speaking those desperate words, the literature teacher reached down for your worksheet before taking ahold of a pencil, writing his address down on the back of the paper before handing it to you. His lips were parted, silent pants coming out of his mouth as anxiety and nervousness sent his emotions over the roof. In fact, he was simply scared that you would deny his proposition. Yet you took ahold of the worksheet and looked down at the words he had written onto the back of the copy, admiring how nice his handwriting was.

“Promise me you’ll come.” He begged, visibly looking forward to receive an oral confirmation in order to ease his worries. No words exited your body but a simple nod accompanied by a fainted smile, leading your teacher to return the same discreet gesture your face currently adorned. And just like that, you walked out of his classroom with your heart beating faster than it ever had before at the thought of seeing him again later tonight.

I hope you guys enjoyed this😏 might do a part two soon enough. I’m open to suggestions and crunchy details y’all would be looking forward to read about💥💳 Requested tags : @fa-me @delightfulheartdream

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki laufeyson fluff #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson smut #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x you #marvel #marvel imagine #Tom Hiddleston #tom hiddleston oneshot #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fluff

[elriell]

Two Mates? Elriel & (El)ucien Theory.

These are just a few of my thoughts compiled together regarding having two mates, the signs and breadcrumbs Sarah has incorporated. If you know me you know am a Lucien fan so this is nothing hateful towards him and we will be looking at his place within it all as well, that being said this will have bond rejection/misalignment talk so if that is not your cup of tea I understand and you can skip this! As always I would love to hear everyones thoughts so long as we are all respectful ♡

Let's start by discussing the where the two ships align and parallel mates behaviour, and then we will discuss where their arc's veer from each other...

“TOUCH HER, SMELL HER, TASTE HER– THE INSTINCTS WERE A RUNNING RIVER.” (Lucien in ACOWAR about the mating bond.)

“Letting his scarred fingers touch her immaculate skin. Letting them brush the side of her throat, savoring the velvet-soft texture.”

“Azriel's fingers lingered at her nape, atop the first knob of her spine. Slowly, Elain pivoted into his touch. Until his palm lay flat against her neck.”

“They'd exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers, but never this. Never blatant, unrestricted touching. ”

“He prayed she didn't peer down. Prayed she didn't understand the shift in his scent. ”

“Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He'd beg on his knees for a chance to taste it. ”

“He needed to know what the skin of her neck tasted like. What those perfect lips tasted like.”

“This one moment, and maybe a taste, and that would be it.  

“Yes" Elain breathed, like she read the decision. Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them. ”

Now you can easily parallel this to any of SJM's mates, like Feysand or Nessian. But for the sake of brevity I will leave you with the original link to the wonderful @suelky post where it was pointed out w/ Feysand quotes as well. [source]

Also "The instincts were a running river.” sounds a little like “Azriel’s Siphons guttered, the stones turning as dark and foreboding as the deepest sea."

The Bonus POV has a lot of typical "Mates" behaviours manifesting between Elain and Azriel, and it would make sense this would be a extreme POV shift as we have never been inside either of their heads before so we were bound to have a major learning curve, especially with Az who is so reserved with his emotions.

“But Lucien’s attention went right to the hallway toward the back, his nostrils flaring as he scented Elain’s direction. And who she’d gone with. A low snarl slipped out of him—”

“So you will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck  someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her."  Azriel snarled softly.”

There are countless main trio parallels but most of you are aware of which one is my favourite...

“Knelt on those stars and mountains inked on his knees. He would bow for no one and nothing— But his mate. His equal.”

“Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He'd beg on his knees for a chance to taste it.”

"Every instinct in his body came roaring to the surface, so violent he had to choke them with a brutal grip or else he'd find himself on his knees, begging her for touch, for anything."

And on to where they go their separate ways from a textual perspective;

"Elain only shrank further into herself, no trace of that newfound boldness to be seen.”

“Rhys kissed the hollow of my collarbone, and my core went utterly molten. “My brave, bold, brilliant mate.”

“You can give everyone that I Will Slay My Enemies look—which is my favorite look, by the way. You can keep that sharpness I like so much, that boldness and fearlessness. I don’t want you to ever lose those things, to cage yourself.”

“And he had the nerve once his powers were back to shove me into a cage. The nerve to say I was no longer useful; I was to be cloistered for his peace of mind.”

“Remember that you are a wolf. And you cannot be caged.” He kissed my brow one more time, my blood thrumming and boiling in me, howling to draw blood.”

I think finding freedom and power from within is something that the books have emphasized through Feysand and Nessian's journey's. Which is so interesting considering Lucien and Elain are both feeling tied to each other, as if in a cage of sorts.

Elain herself has been stuffed in to a box of other peoples making throughout most of the series, it quite prevalent she might feel caged by their opinions of who she is.

"Maybe she was never given a chance to be that way." I whipped my head towards him. "You think I stifle her?" Rhys held up his hands. "Not you alone."

“Nesta had been right. It was like a prison, this place.” [Graysen's Manor]

“Shall I tend to my little garden forever?” When Nesta flinched, Elain said, “You can’t have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater.”

“She ignored me, and saw Elain as barely more than a doll to dress up, but Nesta was hers. Our mother made sure we knew it. Or she just cared so little what we thought or did that she didn’t bother to hide it from us.”

And as for Lucien I think his duty and honour to her is what is caging him;

“I can’t stand to be in the same room as her for more than two minutes. I can’t stand to be in this court and have your mate pay for the very clothes on my back.”

“Why are you here?” Cassian asked, unable to help the sharpness. “Where’s Elain?”

“I am not always in this city to see my mate.” The last two words dripped with discomfort.”

“Why?” Not a flicker of emotion. “He is Elain’s mate.”

I waited. “It would be an invasion of her privacy to track him.”

Godbless Azriel for respecting Elain's privacy.

I think we would see/understand a lot more if we got a chance inside their heads but the one time we did see Lucien's POV we got a good glimpse at how he feels about his situation with Elain and it wasn't particularly positive and reminded me of Rhy's parents.

"She’d seen him not as a High Lord’s seventh son, but as a male. Had loved him without question, without hesitation. She had chosen him. Elain had been … thrown at him.”

“...to remember that she picked it. Picked me. That it’s not like my parents, shoved together.”

Not using the word cage per say but the implication isn't much better.

“You know them better than I do. But I will say that Lucien is loyal—fiercely so.”

“So is Azriel.”

I don't think the debate is really whether Lucien is deserving of her, or even Azriel for that matter, it is a question of who is actually right for her and vice-versa, who has she been consistently written to thrive and smile alongside. And that is Azriel.

Why does Sarah constantly put Azriel in the picture, from day DOT. She was screaming "hey look Azriel is here, and they would work magically together"

“And I think Elain—Elain would like it, too. Though she’d probably cling to Azriel, just to have some peace and quiet.” I smiled at the thought—at how handsome they would be together.”

There are several instances/evens that occur throughout the series that set both Elucien and Elriel's relationships apart, and I think it is highly intentional on Sarah's part...

“I said quietly, “We will get her back.” But Lucien was watching me warily. Too warily.”

“From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.” Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.”

Or we can look at both Solstice's and the clear differences in how their relationships are growing, and also how well one and other know each other.

“Tell me when you knew,” he demanded, his knee pressing into mine. “That Rhysand was your mate. Tell me when you stopped loving Tamlin and started loving him instead.”

“He left the rest unspoken. Because her mate was here, sleeping a level up. Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn't stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option  of leaving if it became too much.  Elain's large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that.”

&

“I want to see her. Just once. Just—to know.” “To know what?” He hitched my damp cloak higher around us. “If she is worth fighting for.”

“Azriel stiffened. “I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all.” Az hadn’t so much as hesitated before going into the heart of Hybern’s war-camp.”

GIFTS REFLECTING THEIR RELATIONSHIP MILE MARKS

“Az ran a hand through his dark hair. “Are we …” Unusual for him to stumble with words. “Are we supposed to get the sisters presents?”

“I handed Elain the small box with her name on it. Her smile faded as she opened it. “Enchanted gloves,” she read from the card. “That won’t tear or become too sweaty while gardening.” She set aside the box without looking at it for longer than a moment. And I wondered if she preferred to have torn and sweaty hands, if the dirt and cuts were proof of her labor. Her joy.”

“Don’t forget that gardening often results in something pretty, but it involves getting one’s hands dirty along the way.” “And torn up by thorns,” I mused,”

“I didn’t dare mention that if she had been wearing the enchanted gloves Lucien had gotten her last Solstice, nothing would have pierced them at all.”

“He and Lucien did not exchange gifts, though the male had brought a gift for Feyre and one for his mate, who barely thanked him after opening the pearl earrings. Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing."

Not only is she visibly uninterested which is painful to watch, it also highlights how little he knows about her. SJM is creating a visible gap in their dynamic.

“The golden necklace seemed ordinary -- its chain unremarkable, the amulet tiny enough that it could be dismissed as an everyday charm. It was a small, flat rose fashioned of stained glass, designed so that when held to the light, the true depth of the colors would become visible. A thing of secret, lovely beauty. “It's beautiful," she whispered, lifting it from the box. ”

“My Nesta. Elain shall wed for love and beauty, but you, my cunning little queen … You shall wed for conquest.”

“I painted flowers for Elain on her drawer,” I said, sawing and sawing. “Little roses and begonias and irises. And for Nesta … ”

“She plucked another figurine from the mantel: a rose carved from a dark sort of wood. She held it in her palm, its solid weight surprising, and traced a finger over one of the petals. “He made this one for Elain. Since it was winter and she missed the flowers.”

“Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. “It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.”

“I led her into the sitting room, where Cassian had a bottle of amber-colored liquor in each hand, Azriel was already rubbing his temples,”

“She hadn't bought her mate a present. But she'd gotten Azriel one last year -- a headache powder he kept on his nightstand at the House of Wind. Not to use, but just to look at. Which he'd done every night he’d slept there.”

“Azriel unwrapped the box, glancing at the card that merely said, You might find these useful at the House these days, and then opened the lid.  Two small, bean-shaped fabric blobs lay within. Elain murmured, "You put them in your ears, and they block any sound. With Nesta and Cassian living there with you...”

See yet again a very thoughtful and funny gift on her part. Now at it's core even just simply comparing their general reactions says a lot about the story Sarah is putting forward.

"Silence again. Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed. I’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous.”

“He chuckled, unable to suppress the impulse. "No wonder you didn't want me to open it in front of everyone."  

Elain’s mouth twitched into a smile. "Nesta wouldn't appreciate the joke.”

“Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly."

"Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing."

“She hadn't bought her mate a present. "

The writing is nothing if not clear about the discomfort both Lucien and Elain feel in regards to each other, though they lay under different reasons.

We are given multiple incidents in which we are told about how mating bonds are not perfect and we are given clear examples of it repeatedly, about woman enduring out of obligation, and do not forget this is heavily discussed literally in regards to Elain and her circumstances.

“She’d been revealed as his mate, and endured the miserable union mostly from gratitude for her unharmed wings.”

“You said your mother and father were wrong for each other; Tamlin said his own parents were wrong for each other.” I peeled off my dressing robe. “So it can’t be a perfect system of matching. "

“She glowed with good health. Except … Her brown eyes were wary. Usually, that look was reserved for Lucien. The male was definitely in the family room,”

“Elain had already departed with Feyre, claiming she had to be up with the dawn to tend to an elderly faerie’s garden. Cassian didn’t exactly know why he suspected this wasn’t true. There had been some tightness in Elain’s face as she’d said it. Normally when she made such excuses, Lucien was around,”

“Elain, the wretch, had taken the seat between Feyre and Varian, about as far from Lucien as she could get.”

VS

“That smile grew, bright enough that it lit up even Azriel’s shadows across the room. “I would like to build a garden,” she declared. “After all of this … I think the world needs more gardens.”

“Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly, and she gave him a shallow nod of greeting before brushing past, leading Nesta into the room.”

What if ”—I jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden—“that is what she needs? Is there no free will? What if Lucien wishes the union but she doesn’t?”

“Can you truly fly?” He set down his fork, blinking. I might have even called him self-conscious. He said, “Yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We’re born hearing the song of the wind.” “That’s very beautiful,” she said. “Is it not—frightening, though? To fly so high?”

“ I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, “Beautiful.” Color bloomed high on Azriel’s golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them.”

“This is Truth-Teller,” he told her softly. “I won’t be using it today—so I want you to.”

“Never, Rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife.”

The romantic subtext is there and has been for quite some time, they prove it book after book when SJM continues to grow their bond and nurture it whilst breaking her connection with Lucien further apart, and for what reason?

“A mating bond can be rejected,” Rhys said mildly, eyes flickering in the mirror as he drank in every inch of bare skin I had on display. “There is choice. And sometimes, yes—the bond picks poorly. Sometimes, the bond is nothing more than some… preordained guesswork at who will provide the strongest offspring. At its basest level, it’s perhaps only that. Some natural function, not an indication of true, paired souls.”

“Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?” [...]

“I’m serious.” I turned toward him and crossed my arms. “What decides it? Who decides it?” Rhys straightened his lapels before plucking an invisible piece of lint from them. “Fate, the Mother, the Cauldron’s swirling eddies …”

“What if the Cauldron was wrong?”

“Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them.”

“The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another.”

It is remarkably interesting to me that we are told about what Rhys suspects/believes is responsible for mating bonds, paralleled alongside Azriel questioning it all, I also think it is abundantly clear from his answer to Feyre he doesn't truly know for sure.

We also have several lines of dialogue talking about the sisters and fate, their reason for entering the IC's life. Not only that but we get a glimpse at Azriel's personality and how despite the world (Rhys and the mating bond in general) telling him to despair, he still found it in him to have hope the Cauldron could be wrong.

This is so significant, and she has carefully woven his character throughout the series to make this incredibly plausible.

“If I had not met a shadowsinger, I would not have known that it is the family you make, not the one you are born into, that matters. I would not have known what it is to truly hope, even when the world tells you to despair.”

“And then he said to my sisters, “We have not known each other for long. But I have to believe that you were brought here, into our family, for a reason, too. And maybe today we’ll find out why.”

“All three sisters blessed by fate and gifted with powers to match your own.”

“Even after the bond is rejected, they see her as belonging to them. Sometimes they return to challenge the male she chooses for herself. Sometimes it ends in death. It is savage, and it is ugly, and it mercifully does not happen often, but …”

“Oh, I can, and I will. If Lucien finds out you're pursuing her, he has every right to defend their bond as he sees fit. Including invoking the Blood Duel.”

As you can see even back in ACOWAR she was weaving the web for Elriel's journey and an upcoming Blood Duel/The threat of one.

“Many mated pairs will try to make it work, believing the Cauldron selected them for a reason. Only years later will they realize that perhaps the pairing was not ideal in spirit.”

I think it is pretty clear from all the quotes above that Lucien is no her ideal spirit and vice-versa to be frank when you put it side by side his budding relationship with Vassa or hers with Azriel they are clearly very different.

“On the continent, there are territories that believe the females literally belong to their mate. But not here. Elain would have our full protection if she rejects the bond.”

“Azriel's hand slid up her neck, burying in her thick hair. Tilting her face the way he wanted it. Elain's mouth parted slightly, her eyes scanning his before fluttering shut.  Offer and permission.  He nearly groaned with relief and need as he lowered his head toward hers. ”

Elain is choosing Azriel, choosing their bond over the one assigned to her time and time again... Back to mating bonds;

“The ancient healer jerked her chin toward Lucien. “See what he can do. If anyone can sense if something is amiss, it’s a mate.”

“The mating bond. It is a bridge between souls.”

"She pointed at Lucien as she saw herself out. “Try sitting down with her. Just talking—sensing. See what you pick up. But don’t push.”

“Can you hear mine?” He wasn’t sure if she truly meant to address him, but he said, “No, lady. I cannot.”

Her too-thin shoulders seemed to curve inward. “No one ever does. No one ever looked—not really.”

"Azriel’s hazel eyes churned as he studied my sister, her too-thin body. And without a word, he winnowed away. Mor watched the space where he’d been standing long after he was gone.”

“Should we—does she need …?” “She doesn’t need anything,” Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien.

Elain was staring at the spymaster now—unblinkingly. “We’re the ones who need …” Azriel trailed off. “A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.”

“It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. The male who heard things others could not … Perhaps he, too, had suffered as Elain had before he understood what gift he possessed.”

“But Azriel nodded. “You knew,” he said to Elain. “About the young queen turning into a crone.” Elain blinked and blinked, eyes clearing again. As if the understanding, our understanding … it freed her from whatever murky realm she’d been in.”

Are you telling me that Madja saying a mate would know, would sense whatever is going on with her, and as it turns out Azriel was the one to sense and uncover it is solely what, a coincidence? Also to emphasize what she said about "A bridge between souls..." Where else have we heard that terminology? The Truth-Teller scene.

“I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection … that knife.”

Not to mention this scene is simply iconic for a multitude of reasons, how poetic Feyre describes them, the clear soulmates/ying-yang subtext and him giving her something he has given no other but that's another story.

Azriel has also been displaying some very protective fiercely so mating vibes towards her,

“Azriel stilled. “What happened to Elain?” Cassian waved a hand. “A fight with Nesta. Don’t bring it up,” he warned when Azriel’s eyes darkened. ”

“Cassian surveyed the shadows gathered around Az. “You all right?” His brother nodded. “Fine.” But shadows still swarmed him.”

“Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.”

“Azriel’s Siphons guttered, the stones turning as dark and foreboding as the deepest sea. “Where did Lucien go.”

I think there are some mixed opinions on Lucien and whether he deserves her (and vice-versa in this fandom) but I don't think that is what this comes down too, they are both handling it in the way they think best/following their instincts.

Lucien is hurting throughout this process as well, but I think ultimately it is honor and loyalty binding him to her not any genuine emotion for her as a human being fae. I think realising they are not meant for each other and supporting each other developing true bonds with other people will be their journey. And it would be a completely fresh and new view of a mating bond.

Smaller pieces of dialogue that need little explaining and a rather oddly specific choice of words in the latest book that is meant to set up the next one in the series:

“You’d know if she’d died,” Azriel said, pausing his work and looking up at Cassian. He tapped his brother’s chest with a scarred hand. “Right here—you’d know, Cass.”

“Elain and Feyre—that was the new status of things. The bond Elain had chosen.”

"I'd never do such a thing. you must be thinking of your other mate."

Honestly? At this rate I have no doubt Elriel are endgame and everything within canon text spells that out but I truly believe he will be her second mate/the will form a bond via some circumstance that shall arise due to these little hints.

I would love to hear your thoughts and/or additions because I by all means didn't do a massive deep dive and there are most likely tons more examples to add but I didn't want it to become overwhelming to read!

Hope everyone has a spectacular and magical evening <3

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel #elain x azriel #azriel x elain #acotar #acosf #acowar #acomaf #a court of thorns and roses #elriel mates #elriel theories #elriel metas #anti elucien #tb safe and all that #dont want it falling in the wrong tag #c

[narakurosaki]

Edward and Winry: Why They Definitely Dated During the Two Year Gap

Since the end of the manga as well as Brotherhood, I’ve observed a chunk of the FMA fandom adopting the notion that Edward and Winry do not begin their romantic relationship until the exchange at the train station, two years after the Elric brothers have been home. Admittedly, this fanon has always been a pet peeve of mine, and it was one that I actively ignored, even as an awkward high schooler that had not yet been in a romantic relationship.

As awkward as Edward is, it’s odd to me that many people believe that he would skip the process of building a solid romantic relationship with Winry before asking her to marry him. Sure, they’re best friends and have known each other since childhood, but, ask yourself: if you were in love with your best friend, would you propose marriage at random, having never made your feelings known, before? I’m not a betting woman, but I think it’s safe to say most, if not all of you, wouldn’t.

We’re going to take a look at several moments within the manga and Brotherhood that serve to hint towards Ed and Winry engaging in a romantic relationship during those two years spent in Resembool.

I’ll be opening with Brotherhood’s fifth opening, “Rain”. It has always intrigued me that the version of Truth Edward sees takes on the form of Winry. I’ve had many theories regarding this that I’ve shared in the Edwin Discord server, but, recently, while researching Truth for a oneshot I’m writing, I discovered this in Truth’s trivia section:

For some reason, in the fifth Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood opening "Rain", Winry Rockbell appears as Truth. Perhaps Winry is what Ed needed most at the time of the episode in which the opening first aired. Another possible reason for Winry's appearance in the opening "Rain": at this point, the scene is playing a review of Edward's review of his journey to this point. When he faces Truth originally, and is then dragged backward through his Door (his ten year old self), he glimpses an outline of Trisha, the object of his sacrifice that brought him to the Portal of Truth, and also the most important female in his life at that time. But in "Rain", he sees Winry instead of Trisha, the current object of his affections and, after regaining Alphonse's body, his goal. A third possibility, is that Winry-as-Truth, was meant to show what he desired as a trap, fitting the next scene: of him screaming within a Philosopher's Stone, before images of every homunculus except Greed. Winry, his desire that tempts him away from what must be done, and the homunculi, whom he must face to succeed.

When we assess the second theory listed in Truth’s trivia section of its wiki page, it is easy to conclude that Edward, though a typical teenage boy concerning romance (not to mention emotionally constipated), came to some sort of realization regarding his feelings towards his best friend. Alphonse has always been his priority since the night the brothers performed human transmutation; he never thought of his future past that. He saw his goal���get his and Al’s original bodies back—and was determined to achieve it. It was the only thing he saw in his future for years. And, suddenly, his father returns, and the fate of Amestris (perhaps, the world, even) is thrust upon him. This, I believe, is what forces Edward to face the emotions he never bothered to acknowledge. There was always a possibility of failure on the Promised Day—Father could have succeeded, and any future Edward envisioned for himself would be unobtainable. He suddenly saw himself sharing his life with his best friend, the woman he had fallen for at some point in his life. Sure, he denied having feelings for her time and time again throughout the series (Hawkeye, anyone?), but that can be chalked up to being a typical teenage boy. Not to mention, he didn’t have time to think about being with Winry. He acted selflessly, focused on getting his little brother’s body back and fulfilling the promise he made to him.

This is somewhat touched upon in the third theory on Truth’s wiki page—the feelings he has for Winry tempt him away from the task at hand. While it does not tempt him away from the promise he made Al, it tempts him away from saving the country. While Edward is not so selfish as to abandon his friends and family on the Promised Day, he does urge Winry to take Pinako and Den out of the country, saving them from the country-wide human transmutation. Though he does not say he will join them, the request is still selfish on Ed’s part. He cares deeply for Winry, and Pinako has become a found family member for the brothers. While he’s unsure if he will make it out alive, he at least wants Winry to see another day.

At the end of “Rain” we see that the storm has cleared, as shown by the sun shining on Winry. She watches Ed sleep peacefully, a smile on his face. This is what Ed wants, this is the goal he wants to achieve after regaining Al’s body—a happy life with Winry.

This moment will be talked about briefly—in opening 4, “Period” (my favorite), Ed and Al pass through each other and look to their surroundings, noticing that they’re alone. Their world comes back into their view with the assistance of those who matter most to them. Winry is seen smiling behind Edward, reminding him that he isn’t alone. Being the first person he sees (or thinks of, depending on how you look at it), it speaks volumes as to Winry’s importance in Edward’s life. She is so much more to him than his mechanic and best friend.

In a blink and you’ll miss it moment, Edward thinks back to those who have impacted his life in a positive way when facing Truth one last time. Truth asks him multiple times if he’s certain on giving up his alchemy; Edward hears the voices of Roy, Riza, Hohenheim, Armstrong, Izumi, Mei, and Alphonse calling out his name. After a brief pause, he hears Winry, This is when Ed proudly asks, “Who needs alchemy when I’ve got them?”

The pause is significant. Ed is able to think of the others—familial and platonic relationships—without missing a beat. When he thinks to Winry, however, there is a pause. We hear her call out his name as he looks Truth in the eye. His goal has been achieved—he is able to sacrifice his Gate to bring his brother’s body back. With this in mind, and with Father having been defeated, Ed is free to think towards the future, and that is a future involving Winry. The pause symbolizes Ed’s freedom to do so, as well as his next goal, so to speak: live an “ordinary life” with the woman he loves.

There is a time skip of at least two months following the Promised Day. This specific scene is worded different between the English dub and the subbed versions. As shown above, Alphonse asks his brother if he’s “…sure about Winry…” in the subbed version as they return home. While we would expect to see Edward freak out to some degree (i.e. spitting out his coffee when asked by Hawkeye; reciting the periodic table when remembering the conversation in Winry’s presence) he only stares at his little brother questioning my. The question by Al suggests that he and Ed had some form of discussion regarding the latter’s feelings towards their best friend. To ask someone if they’re sure of something suggests that the individual has made some sort of decision. For example, one may ask me if I’m sure about my decision to go to college, something I’ve made known to those around me. During those two months spent in Central, or even during the train ride home to Resembool, the brothers had to have discussed Winry. Alphonse is not only Edward’s little brother, but his best friend and confidant. He can tell him anything without fear of judgment, and he feels safe in divulging what he thought of as selfish desires now that his brother has his body back.

In the English dub, the question is worded differently. Alphonse instead asks “What about you and Winry?” While not entirely the same as the Japanese, this question does continue to emply that Edward spoke of his feelings to Al at some point. This line is Al’s way of asking his brother what his plans with Winry are now that they’re home—how will he go about sharing his feelings with her?

Sadly, we don’t get an answer to either version of the question, as the Rockbell home comes into view and the boys prepare to make their return.

Now, to the most compelling evidence, in my opinion… The white hoodie.

Remember the hoodie Edward returns home in? Just a plain ok’ hoodie, right? No significance whatsoever. Or so we all thought.

Two years after their return, Winry is seen wearing the same hoodie when she sees Edward off to the West (in both Brotherhood and manga!). Now, why would a simple friend have possession of your hoodie? Sure, people share clothing all of the time, but it carries a much deeper meaning when both parties have feelings for each other.

Winry had this hoodie before Ed’s awkward marriage proposal, not after, and while this may be the only canon scene we see her in it, the artists for Brotherhood drew Winry in the hoodie at an earlier time.

Notice how Ed’s and Al’s outfits are different from what we see them in in their final scenes. (Note: It’s easy to argue that Al’s outfit is the same, but he actually lacks the tie he wears in his final scene!) The trio seem to be headed for Trisha’s grave, hence the flowers and the cemetery in the background. Winry is seen in that same hoodie she wears at the train station, and the same hoodie Edward wore home. While her outfit is not different whatsoever from the train station (lazy artists, maybe?) this artwork clearly takes place prior to the seeing the brothers’ off on their journeys. She’s also seen carrying a basket, presumably with apple pie, as the basket has made appearances in other Brotherhood art. It’s clear the trio plan to stay out for awhile, which leads me to doubt that even Alphonse is headed out in this day.

Can we also take notice of the heel on Winry’s shoes? She’s clearly shorter than Ed by a lot. Guess she just can’t handle it.

When you have feelings for someone, you don’t just hand them your hoodie for fun. The boyfriend hoodie, as I’ve dubbed it, is a common thing seen in various types of media. When in a relationship, the other party steals their partner’s hoodie and wears it proudly, even if it’s a bit too big for them (also seen in the manga, as the sleeves reach well past the middle of Winry’s hands). Do you really think Edward would let her steal the hoodie he came home in if they were still just friends? He would freak out to some degree and snatch it back. It’s a different story if the two of them are in a relationship.

With how awkward this boy is, there is no way in hell he let two years go by without confessing, only to propose out of the blue before leaving. While the proposal itself was awkward, what proposal isn’t? Rings are dropped, words are jumbled… Nerves get the better of both parties, and that’s what happened here. It wasn’t a confession of feelings, either. When you tell someone you like them (or love) do you ask for half of their life in return for half of yours? Edward was behaving like anyone would when proposing marriage—even if the love you share with your partner is indestructible, there is always that anxiety nagging you in the back of your mind. What if they say no? What if this is too soon? What if I mess up? What if, what if, what if…

In the timeline provided by Arakawa, Edward leaves for the west in 1917. He also marries Winry in the same year. Again, had the proposal been the beginning of their relationship, I just don’t see them marrying so quickly. Edward most likely returned home after a short stint in the western countries, having his fill of traveling, missing his fiancée more than anything. He rushed back home (within six months is my guess) and neither could wait to start their lives together. They’d been together for two years at that point, and lived without making their feelings known for years. I don’t blame them for rushing into their marriage; it’s actually quite cute to think about! But I fail to understand the idea that Ed and Winry kept their feelings for each other under wraps under the same roof for two entire years. Not to mention, Alphonse and Pinako had to have teased the ever-loving hell out of the two of them. There was no way possible they endured two years of that, mixed with awkward, sexually tense encounters.

#edward elric #winry rockbell #edwin #fma #fullmetal alchemist #fmab #edward x winry #edward/winry #meta #my meta #this is my first meta btw pls go easy on me #holy shit

[aminiatureworld]

Small Secrets II

Characters: Childe, Kaeya, Ningguang, gn!reader

Word Count: 3.717

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: It’s not that you wanted to keep it a secret from your loved one. It was simply that old habits are hard to break. But now people are talking, and it seems easier to go one as before.

In which the reader can transform into an animal.

Author’s Note: Had to do a surprising amount of research for this one.

Childe

Perhaps it was a cruel joke on Fate’s part that you were able to turn into a penguin. If so no one else was laughing.

It’d been jarring the first time it’d happened, an accident of stress. After that first incident you’d figured you’d never transform again, at least not willingly. Who wanted to be a greasy, flightless bird anyways? That had been your opinion, and you hadn’t intended on changing it. Until you learned how to swim.

Perhaps it was another joke, that you should become so enamored with the gliding that penguins could do when they finally waddled their way off land. The nearly soundless plunge as you dove beneath the water, not having to worry about running out of air as you sped along the lake nearby your Snezhnayan village. It was as if being trapped in a little pocket of paradise, one which you’d grown to love.

At first you didn’t really consider the repercussions of being involved with Childe in regards to your expeditions to the sea. So wrapped up had you been in the question of his Harbinger status that by the time you realized you might have a problem it was too late to think up any sort of plan. Of course, the days in which Childe was gone you could swim, could even find refuge in those frigid waters. But when he was there it was like walking on eggshells as you found yourself torn between your desire to swim and your need to keep your secret.

It didn’t help that winter was ending. Though Snezhnaya could be bitterly cold in the winter, and though your village was often considered next to inhospitable in the winter, the summertime brought with it a heat that made swimming near unbearable in your oiled feathers. After all, penguins only lived in the most southern part of Teyvat.

It was a beautiful day, the afternoon that you finally broke. The temperatures had plummeted during the night before, and those you shivered as you made your way to the stony beach that was your usual takeoff spot, you felt yourself brimming with anticipation, the prospect of a long overdue swim lying in front of you.

You thought of Childe only once, as you shinnied down the craggy slope that led to the beach. He’d said that there was a Fatui meeting going on at the town inn, and though it was sure to be dull and irritating there was truly no way to escape it. You sympathized with Childe, understanding the difficulties in sitting still for two hours, trying o act as if you weren’t aching to be somewhere else, but secretly you thought the meeting a blessing in disguise. Using the pretense of the Guild being somewhat slow – the Adventurer’s Guild in Snezhnaya was somewhat disorganized due to Fatui competition – you claimed the need for a trek in the snow, holding off Childe’s ill hidden words of worry with the knowledge that you’d lived here longer than he had. You felt little regret, knowing that you’d lied to him. After all you’d been drilled to keep this a secret since the moment you were made aware of it. And as much as you loved Childe, that would never change.

You stumbled a bit in your mad dash to the little cavern which shielded you as you transformed. You’d tried directly transforming in water once, but having pressure almost destroy your lungs was something you weren’t excited to repeat. So instead, you waddled about the icy gravel, silently cursing your speed. You could never get used to how slow penguins were on land, nor could you understand how once you hit the ocean you could speed along faster than any human might.

The water was clear and cool, the icy shock dulled by the layers around you. It was interesting to see the lake in this manner, eyes suddenly unclouded by passing sand and debris. You swam along lazily, staying in the middle layer of the lake. Though you knew that you were going up for breath more than was really necessary, you were feeling surprisingly lazy, and diving to the bottom felt like too much effort.

The sudden pull of your body upwards caused a shriek to escape you. Thrashing about wildly you attempted to dive deeper, mind suddenly clouded by confusion and panic. A voice was calling out to you from above, but you made no effort to comprehend it, too focused on keeping in the sanctuary of the water. Though you knew that you’d swum in the opposite direct of the village, the possibility of being discovered by a human, for your captor was surely a human, was no less terrifying.

As you broke the water you felt like your heart had seized up in your throat, if that was even possible for a penguin. Whirling around this way and that you pulled desperately for the water, for the place you’d be able to outswim this intruder. Your brain registered the familiar clothing of the person holding onto you, and your horror both eased and multiplied as their voice sang through the air.

“Woah there buddy. Calm down!”

You ceased your movements for a second, brain somewhat stalling. Partner. You’d just been dragged out of the water by your partner. If you hadn’t been a bird you would’ve certainly started screaming, or at least asking Childe what the fuck he was thinking skipping the meeting for this.

“There you go.” Childe’s voice was soft and soothing, using a tone that you knew was reserved only for nightmares, injuries, and emotional distress. “It’s alright, it’s alright buddy. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. It’s not normal for penguins to be this far north you know. Besides the villagers have been calling you some sort of malevolent spirit and let me tell you, being harpooned isn’t very fun.”

Ruffling your feathers, you let out a squawk of indignancy, the idea that you’d actually get caught appalling. Childe just let out a laugh in return.

“I know, I know. No appreciation for the natural world. But that’s what it’s like in a village like this, insulated and unquestioning. You’re not the only one who’s suspicious; but let me tell you it’s better to be suspicious and free then stuck in the same place.” He let out a small sigh. “Even when our freedom comes at a price.”

You stared at him for a moment, taking in the soft sadness that radiated off the man you’d fallen in love with. Though a small piece of you felt pity, pity for the life Childe had been forced to live, the rest of you felt a melancholy sort of empathy, and in the center of that a kernel of trust. Childe’s words spoke to you, his status as an anomaly amidst the people who couldn’t understand the yearning to get away. Perhaps it would’ve been better if Childe was more content, staider, perhaps things would’ve been easier. Yet would you have fallen in love with that version of Childe? Would you feel as you did now?

Waddling towards solid ground, not trusting the large pieces of ice which bordered the lake, you closed your eyes. Immediately your form changed, your other self now shed like a second skin. Keeping your back turned away from Childe you stared at the snowy forest.

“You’re not the only one who feels trapped sometimes. I’m sorry that this village isn’t kind to you.”

“Oh the people are nice enough.” There was a wavering sort of humor in Childe’s voice, though you couldn’t tell if it was from shock or sadness.

“Still, I’m sorry. I realize that being here is stifling. Thank you, for visiting because of me.”

“Always.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t trust you.”

“We all have our secrets.”

“Still. I’m sorry.”

You felt the damp press of a coat against your back, warm breath tickling the back of your neck as Childe let out a small sigh. Leaning backwards you closed your eyes. For a moment there was no sound but the gentle lapping off waves, as snow floated down onto your heads.

“Hey, you don’t expect me to keep this secret free of charge do you.” The mischief had returned to Childe’s voice.

“What’s your price then, Mr. Penguin Catcher.”

“Sparring every day for two weeks.”

“… I think I’m going to go back into the water now.”

“Don’t you dare!”

Your laughs entwined as you raced away from Childe, filling the cold winter air with silent warmth.

 Kaeya

“I swear to fucking Barbatos if you don’t open.”

You kicked the door of your apartment, the muffled clunk doing little to sooth your raw nerves. Stupid, how could you’ve have been so stupid? You knew that Kaeya was working late, you knew that you were going to have to remember your keys. So how did you get here then, standing on the outside while your key was resting safe on your nightstand? How had you still managed to forget?

“You know darling sometimes your too reliant on me.” Kaeya had told you one day, voice singsong with amusement. “One day you’ll forget your head on your shoulders. At the very least you shouldn’t expect me to always unlock the door for you.”

Well sorry you couldn’t see into the future. Groaning you slid down the side of your door, face planted firmly in your arms. You needed to get inside somehow. You weren’t about to prove Kaeya right, not now. You would get in if it was the last thing you do. Lifting your head up you closed your eyes in thought. The two of your were sharing an apartment on the third floor, one of the perks being a mini balcony for flower boxes, not that you ever actually put flowers in there. You always kept that window unlocked in the summer, and though it pushed out you were sure you might be able to open it.

Scurrying back down the stairs and into the back alley of the building you glanced around you. Thankfully there was no one in sight. Praying that your pack wouldn’t be stolen off the hallway floor you sighed softly, letting a soft grin cross your face as your vision shifted to that of a cat.

Thankfully the building was made both of wood and stone, or you never would’ve been able to make it. The climb was perilous however, in your mind if not in real life. The world was so much larger around you, and though being light and having four legs to land on would certainly be an asset, minimal injuries was not something you wanted to bet on. Reaching up towards the final beam you hoisted yourself up onto the flower box, giddy with triumph as you went to paw at the window handle.

Your paws slid off the golden substance as if they were coated in oil. Letting out a hiss of frustration you tried again, letting your claws protract. Unfortunately, the handle still refused to move, as your paws slid off the shiny metal. Shit. Turning around agitatedly you let out a yowl of protest. You were stuck, you were absolutely stuck. What were you going to do now? Getting up was one thing, getting down Unfortunately, another entirely. Nor could you revert here, besides the flowerbox being somewhat small you didn’t want to test the weight of the plank that served as your impromptu floor. So what could you do?

“What’re you doing here?” A familiar voice quieted the shrieks which you were emitting, as the fur on your body stood up. Slowly the window began to open, as a familiar face peered down at you, smirk as brilliant as usual. “Don’t you want to come in?”

Though a part of you suddenly thought that being stuck three stories above ground was a lovely prospect, you leapt through the window, landing on the dresser before hitting the ground. Though you wanted to make a run for it the door was closed, and you cursed Kaeya for his forethought.

“Are you going to tell me what you were doing so far up off the ground?” Kaeya knelt down beside you.

Even if I could do you think I’d tell you why? You let out a mewl, eyes narrowing as Childe let out a chuckle.

“Fair enough, but really it’s quite impressive. You must be one determined cat. Here.” Scooping you up Kaeya let out a quiet sort of laugh. “Let’s get you some milk.”

You stood on the kitchen floor, staring silently at the bowl that had been placed in front of you, wondering if cats also thought about having their meals placed where humans had just been walking.

“What, not your style?” Kaeya cocked his head.

He’d been surprisingly nonchalant about the whole debacle, perhaps spurred on by your own lack of reaction. It was still disarming, almost as much as the smirk that refused to leave his face. What in Teyvat could he possibly be thinking, was a cat stuck on a balcony that funny to your cavalry captain?

“Come now, you’ve got to drink a little bit at least. It must be awful exhausting to climb up a building.”

Still you made no move.

“Or do you make it a point not to eat in cat form, darling.”

“How did you know?!” You sputtered, transforming back immediately.

Kaeya let out a burst of laughter. Clutching his stomach he rocked back and forth on his feet, wheezing as the moment continued, laughing so hard no sound came from his mouth.

“It’s not very funny!”

“What do you mean, of course it’s funny!” Kaeya managed to get out, gasping wildly. “I can’t believe you got locked out and decided to scale the building.”

“What else could I do? Wait, no, first, how did you even know it was me?!”

“Ah yes because you would normally leave your belongings in the middle of the hallway. Come on darling, that wasn’t the smartest move you’ve ever made. Besides there have been rumors about a ghost cat prowling Mondstadt and as the Favonius Cavalry Captain, well you couldn’t expect me to just let these questions go unanswered!”

“How long have you known.”

“About a month.”

You groaned, turning around and face planting into the bed. How could you’ve have been so careless? Underestimating Kaeya was a mistake that many made, but you’d thought that you’d managed to catch up to your partner in terms of stealth.

“It’s alright darling, the embarrassment will wear off in an hour.”

“I just can’t believe I’ve been so reckless.”

“Hey, you’ve been very good at hiding this.” Kaeya ruffled your hair gently and you turned to look up at him. His smirk was gone, and instead there was a soft smile painting his lips. “I just know you.”

You hummed softly smile as Kaeya continued to card his fingers through your hair. Suddenly the whole ordeal was weighing on you, and you felt the familiar tendrils of sleep wash over you.

“You should get some rest.” Kaeya kissed your forehead gently. “It’s been a long day.”

“Kaeya.” You murmured.

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

His voice was warm and full of care, guiding you softly to sleep.

 Ningguang

You never meant to get stuck in a storm. You’d never meant to go crying to the nearest place you could call a sanctuary. Most of all, you’d never meant to reveal your secret to her.

The wind whipped around you, throwing you this way and that. You let out a sort of screech, mind blank with terror as you went spinning through the sky, finding it impossible to right yourself in the air. There was no sign of the beautiful clear sky that had dawned this morning; clouds blanketed your vision, dark underbellies a silent warning as pelting rain fell in waves, made even more painful by the gusts of wind that accompanied it. The familiar clap of thunder boomed, seeming to rattle in your bones as you continued to struggle to find shelter. Spying a familiar building you could practically hear your groan of relief. Swooping down you prayed that this would go alright.

One of the things that Ningguang had told you she loved most about the Jade Chamber was the view.

“It’s so bright up there, you look out the windows and there’s nothing but sky, sky and the land of Rex Lapis. It’s a beautiful sight, I hope to one day see it again.”

You were grateful for her affinity for windows now, using their familiar landmark as a landing spot. Clinging onto the wall you began desperately pecking at the window, squawking and crying as the storm picked up again, desperate for the sanctuary of your partner’s office.

“What is a raven doing outside?” The sotto voice of your love one filled the air.

Opening the window Ningguang said nothing as you flew in, landing on the chair you usually sat in. There was a faint struggle as the wind whipped through the open window, but eventually a faint click could be heard and Ningguang returned to the center of the room. Staring down curiously at you she tilted her head.

“I didn’t think that ravens flew down from the forests, especially during a storm. Perhaps then you’re a messenger from the adepti?”

“N–” you squawked, knowing that you surely sounded strangled. Even after years of transformation you could never get used to the switch between voice box and syrinx. It was as if you’d never learned to speak from the beginning.

“Poor dear, are you tired from your journey? I’m not sure what ravens drink, water I presume.”

Walking over to the corner Ningguang poured some water out of a pitcher onto a saucer. You drank gratefully when she returned, reminding yourself to tell her that normally ravens had to consume both water and salts. Having finished the little ritual, you tried once more.

“N…” still your words weren’t coming. You wanted to say something important, to explain your circumstances. Still you found you could say nothing. As if reading your frustration Ningguang stroked your beak, touch gentle and comforting despite your avian state.

“Poor thing, have you been wounded?”

You looked up at your partner, taking in the smile on her face. You’d gotten better at reading her, reading this woman who people whispered was too proud, too cutthroat, without emotion and without empathy. How stupid those people were. You could see it in her eyes, see the worry. You were a stranger to her, and unlucky raven; and yet she worried for you.

“Ningguang.” You finally got out, tripping backwards slightly at the twisted sound of your own voice. Ningguang stared at you, no less surprised.

“You know my name. Then you must be from the adepti. Has something happened?”

“Ningguang!” You let out one more time, dancing up and down the arm of the chair you were perched on.”

“Is there something that must be done?”

“Ning–”

You stopped, shaking yourself. This was getting nowhere. What was even the point of hiding it at this point? You knew the fears that swirled inside you, knew the fear that had been instilled in you. Don’t tell anyone, don’t let them know. Normal people, they’ll never be able to understand, they’re too afraid, too proud, too lacking in empathy. And yet you knew that wasn’t true, at least that it wasn’t true of Ningguang. Sighing you hopped down on the floor. A few feathers floated out of your hair as you faced your partner.

“My dearest!”

“I’m sorry for the surprise.”

“Think nothing of it. I hope you are not injured.”

Hurrying over to you Ningguang picked up your arms, turning them around as she examined them. Giggling slightly, you shook your head.

“I’m fine my love, really. Only a little shaken.”

“I don’t understand what you were doing, flying out in the storm. The recklessness, I cannot believe you would do such a thing.”

“Sorry, I was being stupid; I didn’t think that the rain would be that bad.”

“I am only glad that you managed to make your way here. If not, well I would not appreciate having my partner felled by a storm.”

“Yeah…”

“Well,” Ningguang planted a few light kisses over the bridge of your nose, “I hope that you will learn, and that we do not have to repeat this performance. Honestly, to think I thought you an emissary of the adepti; I was almost worried this storm was an unnatural one. Morax knows the last thing Liyue needs or can afford is another god rising from the depths.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Well, if you truly are then you can help me with this paperwork. There appears to be some confusion in terms of the chain of ore production, I believe someone might be skimming from the top.”

In a moment she’d reverted back to her calm and collected self, but you could feel the unsaid words in the air. I will not ask you about your ability. I will trust you to tell me in your own time. It was a comforting message and as you sat down you wondered at how considered the woman you loved truly was.

“It looks like it will be a cool night.” Ningguang smiled up at the sky. The clouds had cleared and the moon shone a silvery light on the once more bustling city.

“Thank the gods. It’s been so hot recently.”

“Indeed.” Ningguang pressed a kiss to your cheek.

You gave her a short kiss back, fingers entwined with hers. The storm had been terrifying, as had the moments after, the moments when you felt you had too much to say and nothing at all. The moments when you had no control.

And yet Ningguang had given you the gift of time, time and patience. One day you would tell her about your abilities, about the blessing, or perhaps the curse, you’d been given at birth. You knew that when that day came you wouldn’t have to worry. So, for now you simply walked home together, hands entwined, both content in the silence of trust.

#genshin impact fanfiction #childe x reader #kaeya x reader #ningguang x reader #childe #kaeya #ningguang #genshin impact #requested #scenarios #my writing

[rqnvindr]

special delivery

pairing: delivery boy!albedo x gn!reader

genre: fluff, humor, pinch of suggestiveness

w.c: 1.5k

synopsis: it was getting harder and harder to resist the beautiful boy who always delivered your pizzas. especially when he notices the way you look at him, ever the observant one...

a/n: happy birthday chae !! @albehoe  i’m glad we met and i enjoy all of our talks in the server! welcome to being 19; hope you enjoy this little gift i put together for you hehe

--

the doorbell finally rings, snapping you out of mindlessly scrolling on your phone. you grab your wallet and hop off the couch, more than ready to receive your pizza order for dinner. 

you open the door and your brain immediately shuts down.

a young man, around the same age as you, stands before you and greets you with the most princely “good evening” ever. and if his voice wasn’t already enough to melt you, the red and black uniform looked like it was made just for him, complimenting his perfect skin and hair. that, along with his sparkling eyes was enough to convince you that he couldn’t possibly be real. you resist the urge to pinch yourself to check if you were dreaming.

“for (y/n), correct?” albedo, as you read on his name pin, snaps you out of your trance with his dreamy voice. it sounded even better when he said your name.

“yes.” you hand him the required amount of cash and take the box, brushing fingers ever so slightly. you offer the boy a smile, to which he nods in response.

albedo waves a gloved hand as he walks off of your porch. “have a good day.”

“thank you.” it sounded like the most appropriate choice of words at first, but you mentally curse yourself after he gets into the car and drives off.

you should’ve asked for his number, dammit. or at least told him to have a good day too.

what was supposed to be a perfect treat of an evening ended with you chastising yourself all throughout your meal. 

this was your chance. you were going to order another pizza at the end of this week and hope that albedo would be your delivery boy again. you would at least try to remember to make more conversation with him this time, before leading up to hinting that you wanted to get to know him better. 

you take a deep breath on the awaited day, when you answer the door. to your luck, it’s the exact same platinum-haired, blue-eyed mystery of a man who stole your heart within seconds.

“oh! good to see you again!” you sound a little too excited, and albedo appears perfectly unfazed. 

“good afternoon. that’ll be $10.” he holds up a packet when you hand him the fee, and you raise an eyebrow. “i also got you a free sample of our newest secret sauce. it’s not supposed to be out until next month, but i’m conducting some research for my university and wanted to get a head start on people’s opinions on the taste, the texture, if they could perhaps recognize any of the ingredients used to make it..” he clears his throat. “anyways, since you’re such a dedicated customer you’re the first on the list. let me know what you think next time.” 

“ah.” you lightly giggle at his rambling. he seemed very passionate about whatever field he was studying and determined to flesh out the best results for his research. you were the one who was nervous about keeping a conversation going when he seemed more than capable of doing so, as long as it was something he was acutely interested in. 

and most importantly: he planned on meeting you again. there would be a next time.

“may i ask what your major is?” 

“i’m a chemistry major. i was originally planning on doing biology, the study of life, but there is just as much essence of life in chemical reactions. taking two or more things to form a new substance...the embodiment of the life cycle itself.” 

you nod, feeling nearly as fascinated in his studies as he appears to be. you would love to hear more about it, perhaps sitting across from him at a cafe, dressed casually out of his work clothes...

“excuse me. i do not wish to take up too much of your time. enjoy your pizza.” 

“wait.” you call out, a fleeting sense of courage rising up, only for it to collapse once more when you catch yourself staring directly into albedo’s eyes. an endless ocean of curious orbs, their intensity making you feel seen right through, inside and out. 

“um, actually never mind. sorry, have a nice day!” albedo nods, scratching the back of his neck as he heads off. 

being unfathomably nervous and having a crush on someone farther than they appear was not a good mix.

--

you open the cabinet, ready to do some spring cleaning. your hand slips, accidentally knocking over an empty container. before you can pick it up, you notice a white packet that had been hidden underneath.

right. the sauce.

you hadn’t forgotten about it. you simply put it aside to try it out later with another food, just for a little adventure. but there was never any time to cook anything that would possibly go with an unknown condiment. 

or more like, no one to cook with.

you grab your phone and dial the number that you’ve pretty much memorized by now. you bite your lip while listening to the other line ring.

“hello, thank you for calling favonius pizza co. this is albedo, how may i help you?” 

“hi, albedo.” surely he’ll recognize your voice when he promised a next time, after all.

“oh, (y/n)? will it be the usual?” your stomach flutters from the way he perks up while saying your name. 

“no, but i’m so glad it’s you answering the phone. i actually wanted to talk to you regarding the sauce. um, do you mind maybe coming over when you get off from work and i can show you exactly what i wish to convey?”

this doesn’t feel right. asking someone you’ve only met twice over into your own house, just for the sake of your silly crush that led to silly little fantasies in your head-

“sounds good. it’s been really difficult gathering feedback from other customers, due to the lack of communication. and it also works out that i can see you in person so i don’t have to take up too much time during my shift. i’ll be there in an hour and a half or so.”

you stop gaping, realizing you have to confirm your meeting. “okay! take care and i’ll see you then!”

“bye.” with that, albedo hangs up.

you rush to set up the ingredients for your cooking, date, perhaps, with albedo. even if he didn’t think of you the same way that you did, you would always cherish him agreeing to spend time with you.

an hour passes by and he’s already promptly ringing the doorbell. you can’t help but feel your knees grow weak at the sight of him in his gray hoodie and light colored jeans, his hair uncovered without the cap. and his eyes glimmer differently, adding to the new feeling his casual attire grants the sight of albedo outside of work.

“hi! the kitchens right this way!” albedo takes off his shoes and follows you to the adjacent area, right to the counter.

“you seem to have gathered more than just the sauce. and you also didn’t order a pizza either.” he remarks placing a hand under his chin. 

“that’s because i wanted us to cook together and for you to see my reaction to it with other food. that’d add more variety to your results y’know?”

albedo continues to inspect the ingredients you had laid out for the chicken nuggets, picking up a jar of seasoning to smell it. “you’re definitely more invested in this than i expected you’d be.” he chuckles, the deep vibrations of his chest sending shivers down your spine.

“we shouldn’t have much of a problem if we’re doing this together, even though i’m not really the best at cooking. however there is one other thing i’ve realized...” albedo puts the jar down, turning to face you. he possesses the same observational look that he gave you the last time he delivered, and walks closer to you. the closing gap effectively cages you on the counter, your chests brushing against each other, making your breath hitch. 

“(y/n),” he hums. “were you really ordering pizza the last time? or were you ordering me, instead?” 

you want to reply, but any form of coherent speech dissipates in your throat. he’s so close, and normally you’d be embarrassed if someone was able to figure you out like this, yet you only found his curiosity and the way he pried into things even more attractive. especially if he had that kind of attitude towards you.

a sigh escapes your lips and you place a hand on his shoulder. “i like you albedo. and yes, i did only order pizza just because i wanted an excuse to see you. i’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable, and if you don’t feel the same way feel free to leave and never speak to me again. i mean that.”

albedo remains silent for a few seconds before blinking slowly and shyly taking your hand.

“i’m not going anywhere. people who care about my work...are important to me. and i do admire your directness.” he lightly strokes your skin. 

“perhaps i should give you what you asked for in your special delivery then, hm?” albedo chuckles. you giggle while playing with his fingers. 

feeling a little bit bold, you press your lips to his digits, causing him to short circuit on the inside at your touch. 

“i shall enjoy it then.” you whisper.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact imagines #albedo #albedo x reader #albedo fluff #albedo imagines #albedo scenarios