#//The problems with the puzzles are probably my own fault

[sergeantbuckybarnes]

i know love // joaquin torres

Summary: Having been raised in the Red Room, people would expect you to be ruthless and cold. Your vulnerability surfaces when a conversation topic is brought up during dinner, and you need to have a difficult conversation with Joaquín.  

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Ex-Widow!Reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: mentions of brainwashing and killing, mentions of reader having an involuntary hysterectomy in the red room, mentions of dreykov, reader doesn't know how to deal with her emotions, mentions of adoption, angst, hurt/comfort, but a happy ending!!

A/N: As always, remember English is not my first language. Also, thanks to @heybaynoot for proofreading this!

This is my first time writing for Joaquín, I probably got him OOC a bit, but hope you guys like this one! Oh, and I have more in store for Joaquín & BlackWidow!Reader so stay tuned!

marvel masterlist | main masterlist

It was an offhand comment.

This wasn’t something you should be overthinking.

Any other woman in your situation would have been thrilled. And that was the problem—you weren't like other women. And no, this wasn't meant to be a compliment.

Your childhood and adolescence hadn’t been the most conventional. You knew it hadn’t been your fault; you never had a say in anything, yet it didn’t undo the knot in your stomach nor make the nightmares go away.

It had only been a few years since you'd begun to get your life back on track. Or, well, to build your own. One that actually felt like yours, where you were more than just the prisoner of a rich sadist.

When Yelena found you and freed your mind from their control, you were lost. Waking up was difficult. Facing the reality around you was puzzling, and you struggled with understanding your true identity. 

But that was ages ago. 

You have got your life on track since then.

And everything was going well. You could say you were happy for the first time in a long time. A fundamental pillar of that happiness was thanks to Joaquin.

When Sam introduced you, you never thought he would become such an important part of your life. Falling in love with him wasn't in your plans, but it had happened. And it was quite simple. That was one of the long list of special things about Joaquín—loving him was so easy.

From the first moment, you noticed the brightness he radiated. He was funny, kind, sweet, and smart. He had a charming personality, and it was literally impossible not to smile when he was around—and you weren't someone who was used to smiling, not before him at least.

He knew who you were and what you had done, and it had never been an issue for him. To be honest, his reaction when he met you was something you hadn't expected. He was thrilled and excited to officially meet an ex-widow. And, despite his obvious curiosity, he never asked anything about the Red Room. You assumed it was out of respect; perhaps he did not want you to remember Dreykov, the training, and the brainwashing.

And the killing.

And you had to admit you were delighted that the subject was never brought up.

He still complimented your fighting skills. Like, all the time. Looking like a proud boyfriend every time you kicked someone's ass. 

There was a moment, early in your relationship, when you realized it was him. You had never known love before—not that kind. And Joaquin's was the best first experience you could have asked for. You had been certain that he was going to be your first and last. You didn't want anyone else. Because no one would ever make you feel the way he did.

But now everything has crumbled.

Because of a single comment.

“We're going to have the cutest babies.”

The words had rolled off his tongue so easily.

And they had stabbed your heart in the same way.

Sarah had smiled at his words, Sam had rolled his eyes and made a witty remark, while you pressed your lips into a thin smile, and the conversation at the table just continued on.

But you couldn't shake off the feeling.

In all the time you had been dating Joaquín, the topic of having children had never been brought up. You thought it was because he knew. And he was being the considerate, thoughtful gentleman he was.

But now you were thinking that maybe Joaquín didn't know everything you went through in the Red Room.

You had the image of his happy face burned into your brain when he made the baby comment, and it only intensified the knotting in your stomach.

This happened two weeks ago, and since then, your mind has not stopped spinning in a whirlpool of thoughts and feelings. You didn't know how to deal with the situation. Well, technically, you did; you knew you had to talk to Joaquín. If the future he had planned for himself was to have a family, it was clear he was not going to have that with you.

You rubbed your eyes as you let out a grunt of resignation. You'd tried your best to leave the past behind you, just for it to come back, knocking on your door and hitting you with a harsh reminder that happiness was a luxury you couldn’t yet afford.

Something was going on.

And Joaquin had noticed this. 

You'd been acting odd, distant even, and he couldn't figure out why.

Had he done something that irked you?

Despite living together, over the past two weeks, you’ve been coming up with excuses to avoid spending time together, skipping your regular morning coffee dates, and missing movie nights. Even during your training sessions, your conversations felt minimal and strained.

But what hurt him the most was that whenever he attempted to reach out for you, you recoiled from his touch—something you never did before. 

You had always loved his clinginess. He felt the need to have a hand on you constantly. While other people had considered it annoying in the past, it never seemed to bother you. On the contrary, it seemed like you yearned for his touch just almost as he longed for yours.

When he mentioned the situation to Sam, the reaction he got was that he was reading too much into it and that maybe you just needed to have some space.

“Have you talked to her about it?”

No. He hadn’t. Because he was afraid he would get the answer his brain was already conjuring up. 

And he wasn’t ready for it.

Not that it mattered, because you started the conversation yourself that afternoon.                               

A sense of relief washed over him as he noticed you standing in the living room of your shared apartment.

Everything may be okay after all. 

Perhaps Sam was right, and you just needed space. 

However, the happiness was wiped from his face when he noticed the expression on your face, followed by the dreadful words, “We need to talk.”

Joaquín felt the air escape from his lungs. A lump formed in his throat as your words echoed in his head.  

‘We need to talk’. 

Those words almost always came before terrible news.

He searched your face for clues, any hint that this time might be different, but the seriousness in your eyes revealed everything he feared. 

“Can we sit down, please?” 

Joaquín nodded, swallowing hard as he followed you to the couch. You sat across from him, your hands clasped tightly in your lap, a subtle sign of your own unease. The cushions felt too soft, and indulgent as if mocking the tension between the two of you.

“I’ve been thinking a lot these past few weeks…” You began, your voice quivering slightly, and he felt a surge of fear grip his heart. “I know you had noticed that I had pushed you away, and I—”

The words sent a shiver down his spine. A flicker of emotion crossed your eyes—a mix of determination and sadness—that sent a twist through his stomach.

You'd rehearsed this conversation in your head, every word, but now that you had your boyfriend in front of you, your mind had gone completely blank. Your eyes drank in how worried he was; you hated yourself for doing this to him.

You took a deep breath, the kind that tried to draw in all the courage you could muster. “Remember two weeks ago when we had dinner with Sam and Sarah?” 

He furrowed his brow in confusion. Of all the things his mind had conjured up, you mentioning the dinner at Sarah's was not among them. However, he nodded and gestured for you to go on. 

“Sarah said something about AJ and Cass and then you mentioned that we were gonna have the cutest babies, and I—” 

God, this hurt so much.

Each word you spoke felt like a dagger piercing his chest, and made his heart sink further. The lump in his throat seemed to grow even bigger. “Is that what this is about? You don’t want to build a family with me?”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks—of course, Joaquín would assume he was the problem. You swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words. “No, it's not that I don't want to.” You exhaled, forcing the words out, your heart racing. “It's just…”

Joaquin leaned forward, squinting in a fervent plea for clarity. The concern on his face was palpable.

“I thought you knew about this, and that’s why you never brought the subject up…” You took a deep breath and finally uttered the words weighing heavily inside you. “I can’t have kids, Joaquin.”

“In the Red Room, they had this graduation ceremony…They sterilized us. One less thing to worry about, I guess.” You grimaced, your hands fidgeting instinctively—a nervous habit you couldn't recall developing. “For Dreykov, that was what mattered even more than a mission. It made everything easier. Even the killing.”

He struggled with the truth of what you said, and the world around him dimmed for a minute. 

“I've fought to put that part of my life behind me, and I don't want to be the burden that holds you back from having the life you want.”

“You're not a burden to me.” He moved closer and took one of your hands in his own, his thumb softly stroking patterns on the back of your hand. “What I want is you—just as you are. A future without you holds no interest for me.”

Emotions you had suppressed for so long started to overwhelm you, and tears filled your eyes. “I don't want to put you in that position. I want you to be happy.”

“But I am happy with you,” he replied, with a resolute tone.

“What if one day you change your mind?”

Joaquín leaned in, his eyes blazing with a sharp intensity that sliced through the fog of doubt that shrouded you. “I swear to you, my mind is made up. And it starts and ends with you.”

He cupped your face gently, wiping away a tear. You closed your eyes in contentment, leaning into his touch. 

You had missed it so much.

You had missed him. 

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you murmured, gazing into his chocolate-brown eyes. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

For the first time in two weeks, Joaquín found himself smiling—truly smiling. 

He pulled you closer, draping his arms around your shoulders. You buried your face in his chest, inhaling in his familiar scent, while he tightened his embrace around you, afraid that you would slip away.

He had missed you.

“Please, don’t push me away again,” he pleaded softly, his voice muffled as his face rested against your head. “Those were the worst two weeks of my life.”

“I’m sorry.” You pulled back slightly. “I don’t know how to deal with my emotions well, but I’m trying, I promise.”

“I know you are. And I’m here for you if you need me. We’ll work through it together. We’re a team, remember?”

As you listened to him, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. The fear that had gripped you for weeks started to fade.

“And we can always consider adoption,” he suggested, his eyes lighting up at the idea. “There are so many kids out there in need of a caring home. We can give them a shot at a better life.”

“I like that idea,” you said quietly, a timid smile emerging through the lingering traces of your tears.

“Good.” His hand found yours again, his fingers easily interlacing with yours. A wave of tranquility enveloped you, and for the first time in weeks, it felt as though you could breathe. You rested your head against his shoulder, settling into him and finding comfort in the calming thud of his heartbeat.

“Thank you for being so understanding. I don't deserve you.”

“Don't say that,” he said, lifting your chin, making you meet his eyes. “You deserve all the love and happiness in the world. And I'm not going anywhere.”

With that, he leaned into you, his lips softly brushing against yours, and in that instant, everything felt right again. The outside world faded, enveloping you in your warm little cocoon of comfort and understanding.

[r4spberry-vinaigrette]

Hiiii do you have any tips for writing rouxls kaard :3 i love how you write him so much his speech pattern is hell to figure out 😭

AHHH THANK YOU!!! genuinely a lot of my knowledge on how to write him comes from staring unyieldingly at his wiki dialogue and just trying to absorb his vibes. i know this probably isn't super helpful but it's true i frequently have tabs open for the dialogue of any character im writing and reference it whenever i'm a little stuck on the "rhythm" of their dialogue. i do have some fun tips, though, if they help any!

a lot of writing rouxls' dialogue is in the rhythm of his words. he is not consistent at ALL with what words he adds suffixes to or anything, so really just muse over the dialogue you have and decide if it sounds too bizarre on the tongue if you're worried about overdoing it. there's a post here with some more specifics but by and large after you know the terms / suffixes he uses it's all about how well the sentence works

for how i do his inner narration it's kinda important to remember he's a Little Stupid but not, like, fully incompetent. he knows how to fight, he knows how things work to some degree, his issue is that he has such an inflated sense of self-importance that it overshadows any of his actual capabilities half of the time. he believes he's the Best at all he does and he's never incorrect, and when he is actually incorrect or messes up he immediately blows it off in some way. i joked once that the way to write serious inner monologues with him is just by having him realize he's really cool and awesome intermittently and while that's partially a riff it's not far off. he's got serious problems, it's just that he thinks he's so great that he can't be wrong about things, and if he is wrong then it's other people's fault for tripping him up or something. to pull something from the upcoming chapter as an example:

despite simultaneously being this way he takes everything around him very seriously. i truly think he views every issue he encounters as, like, life or death, at least for his reputation. if he blunders this puzzle or fight then it is ALL OVER, so he needs to be cool and win Or Else. but since he's blowing every loss off as Not Really A Loss it means he's avoided any amount of embarrassment or actual feelings about messing things up. if he was forced to confront he was wrong about something he'd probably feel pretty weird about it in his own way but as it is he is not confronting jack or shit

hope that helps! as a bonus i do have some bullets on how i write spamton since a friend asked, so have those too:

[ellipsistories]

pt 7

If they're ooc it doesn't matter if it's inconsistent it doesn't matter if it's weird or doesn't matter this is silly low-effort au to generate feelings of accomplishment while I plan bigger things

Moana now knows what it feels like when someone leant against you snaps straight from relaxation to horror. For the record, it’s not fun, especially when you know it’s not your fault or her fault and she really didn’t have a choice and also you’re losing blood, which makes everything feel worse.

Loto now knows what it feels like to wake up sucking blood from a person and like it. Not by choice or anything, but after so many years, the curse is wrapped all into her until it’s inextricable, and the vampire bat instincts that come with the curse have thoroughly, thoroughly assimilated.

She’s groggy at first, like waking up from a sun-warmed nap under a favorite blanket. She can hear soft breathing, and the air smells lovely and alive. Her mouth is filled with the taste of salt, and she likes it more than she remembers. She’s sated with a few final laps, and lets herself twist and turn against a warm shoulder with a contented sigh. She yawns, and she huffs when Moana shifts her arm to bandage her bloody hand.

Wait, her what?

Loto snaps into awareness, sort of. She’s sitting on her bed, leaning against her only friend, head starting to ache, with blood in her mouth and teeth marks on Moana’s hand.

The curse. A hand reflexively finds its place in front of her mouth. She- she-

She doesn’t feel guilty.

She hurt her friend. She hurt her friend and she liked it, and she doesn’t feel a shred of remorse for it. She can’t summon up any scrap of guilt, any half-illogical blame that will stick.

These are not her emotions.

Moana’s hands are full, so she leans her head against Loto’s and murmurs, “It’s okay. I’m fine,” even as her heart rate picks up.

“You’re bleeding,” Loto snaps back. “You’re bleeding and I drank it.” And I can't regret it, she doesn't say.

Yes. She did. Moana knows that. Moana also knows that she can’t be sorting out her own feelings about that matter in front of Loto, especially not now, so she just nods.

“Are you being calm about this?!??”

Moana shrugs as she tapes down the bandage.

“I’ve had time to get used to it. BY WHICH,” she adds quickly tooloud, “I mean I found your general practitioner’s number and called her, and she said I’d activated a curse on you and it looked like a targeted vampirism curse, which I have a few questions about but they can probably wait, unless you’re in witness protection from some at-large criminal-” “what” “-in which case I do need to know if my family could be endangered by association.” “No???” “In that case all my questions can wait and I’m gonna go get you a banana and a drink.”

Loto stares after her. Moana opens the humming fridge. Okay then.

Loto swallows back the bile and runs her tongue curiously over her sore teeth, wincing when she cuts herself.

So we see here that Moana opted for “throw unexpected information at someone with such a casual demeanor that they’re forced to puzzle over your inanity instead of thinking about the Problems.” This is because she also has no idea what the heck to do, because this situation is Weird.

I wonder how that banana is.

@thehighpriestessofcuddles

[karasbroken]

I'm determined that this be the last week I can use this WIP Wednesday graphic. 10k words in and only one major scene left to write. A big fight with Aeryn. But first I got to throw in a tiny bit of levity with some bro talk. John runs into D'Argo outside a random cell near Zhaan's chamber:

"I said 'No', dad," came the kid's voice from behind the shiny fabric.

"What's going on?" John asked quietly.

"My son insists on sleeping in this derelict chamber," D'Argo said, loud enough to be heard by Jothee. "Even though he will be safer and more comfortable with us on tier six."

It was a bit of a relief to have such a mundane problem to deal with. "Teenagers, huh?" He clapped his friend on the shoulder. "Let it go, D'Argo," John said, giving him a little push away from the door and walking with him back up toward the next tier. "He probably just doesn't want his old man hearing him," John made a jack-off motion, but this only confused D'Argo. "You know, private time?"

"Oh!" The Luxan gave a quick puzzled glance at John crotch. "You mean," he made a double fisted pumping gesture, kind of like milking a cow, near his chin. "Yes. That could be it." D'Argo winced. "I keep forgetting Jothee is almost fourteen, he's so small for his age. I've missed so much."

The young age took a second to sink in. It made sense. The kid in D'Argo's memory crystal hadn't looked much older than a pre-schooler, and it had only been ten cycles or so since Lo'lan's death and D'Argo's imprisonment. Still, from his appearance John would have guessed Jothee was ready for college, not a middle schooler. If the kid was small, it was only in comparison to his father. "I would have guessed older. How old are Luxans when they leave home, anyway?"

"I was Jothee's age when I started training with my command, sixteen when I left for my first battle campaign, but I returned to my father's house every leave. Most Luxans live at home until they marry. I did that at eighteen. Too young. I… I was always in a hurry." The big man gave a rueful shrug. "I wanted better for my son."

D'Argo immediately bristled. "He has a father now. Jothee has always had a father. He needs to accept that." He narrowed his eyes at John. "You are childless," D'Argo almost spat the word out. "You can never understand."

"There's nothing you could do about that, man. It's not your fault. You're here now." John put out a hand, stopping D'Argo. "Look, you didn't ask for my advice, but I'm going to give it anyway. Go slow on the parental stuff. Jothee has been on his own for a long time. Every teenager thinks they're all grown up, but he had to grow up. Let Jothee decide when he's ready to have a dad again."

His friend was probably just being thoughtless, not intentionally cruel. John did have a child, well, a Schrodinger's daughter he supposed. Are you a dad if you got a girl pregnant, but the baby isn't due until after you're dead? The guilt was going to haunt him the rest of his life, and it didn't help that Katralla was probably his last chance to have a child of his own. John had kissed a lot of Sebacean women with that compatibility detection syrup, and the only one he'd matched with was the one with damaged DNA. And while he hadn't completely given up hope of making it back home, even if he figured out wormhole travel, finding one to take him to Earth had always been ludicrously unlikely. No, chances were, he would die in the Uncharted Territories, childless and alone.

Especially if the woman he supposedly loved didn't even want to talk to him anymore.

[oneluckydragon]

I have a few questions about Echo!

1) when did she know she used to be Darkrai? My guess is at Dark Crater, either when she first laid eyes an Darkrai and just *knew,* or something about Palkia's speech about what could happen to Darkrai after being attacked in the portal.

2) what caused the scar on her neck? (Probs darkrai tbh)

3) alright so this is probably me overthinking things but did Echo change genders?? Asking cause Darkrai is typically referred to as 'he/him', and he has a distinctly masculine voice in his movie. Plus, it also makes sense with Darkrai and Cresselia being opposites: Cress is canonically a female while Darkrai is depicted as a male, full moon vs new moon, sweet dreams vs nightmares, day and night, light and dark, and so on. So did Darkrai go from he/him to ???/??? (as a 'human') to she/her? Did Darkrai just not give a shit? Have we been accidentally misgendering Darkrai this whole time?

Basically I'm asking b/c 1) confusion, and 2) is it another layer of symbolism about how Echo is nothing like her former self?

@maxtheirisagent tagging you like requested!

Thanks so much for asking about Echo! I'm happy to answer any questions so feel free to pester me whenever you'd like. It's so exciting that someone wants to know more about her. c:

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++

The truth about Echo's past life as Darkrai clicked the moment she first met Cresselia within Azurill's nightmare.

Not only did she piece the truth together because the sight of her long-lost sister-- someone she had scorned and despised and hated in her original life-- jarred her so much that it cleared away some of the fog in her memory. But it was the feeling. The rush of anger, of fury, the ache she felt upon seeing Cresselia again after years and years of separation. It awoke something inside Echo that felt real in a way she couldn't ignore. Like a puzzle piece finally slotting into place.

And even more, Echo had her suspicions leading up to said point. She cannot dream at all. Not ever. Never figured out why during her time as a human and Eevee, and yet other Pokemon tend to suffer nightmares around her (even as a human, this ability Bad Dreams never went away) which had caused some pain for both Sora and Grovyle over the years. And Echo never shared the secret that she doesn't dream. She never confessed to suspecting that these nightmares might be her fault, so Sora and Grovyle never understood the origins of their own nightmares either-- but Echo was able to deduce that she was indeed the source of the problem. Especially after Chatot had explained that Darkrai caused nightmares and pain wherever he went, and the correlation between Echo's powers, her amnesia, her sudden appearance on the beach, her life with Grovyle in the dark future, the Dimensional Scream/connection to the Time Gears, and Darkrai's personality were too coincidental.

What solidified this conclusion is that while Cresselia was traveling with Team Wish during their attempts to reach Dark Crater, Sora did not suffer nightmares at all-- for the first time in what seemed like ages. And it was a like a gut punch, a vicious stab in the heart, and Echo immediately knew why. It was because Cresselia was accompanying them, and her gentle light purifies bad dreams and brings good health. Someone that could cancel out the nasty effect Echo seems to have on others... and it did. Cresselia DID cancel out these nightmares and that could only mean one thing.

And Echo was angry, then. Angry at Cresselia. Angry at herself. And fueled that anger towards fighting Darkrai for the sake of everyone she loved.

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++

You're right! The scar on Echo's neck is indeed from Darkrai. In fact, both of Echo's scars (the large one along her neck AND the one denting her leg as an Eevee/Umbreon or rather on her arm as a human). Each one was received technically at the same time, but with a twist! During the final battle at Dark Crater, Echo and Darkrai both went berserk and clashed in a desperate attempt to knock each other out.

Echo inflicted a wound onto Darkrai which took sizeable chunks out of his forearm. When Palkia shattered the dimensional portal it then instantly scarred that injury and Darkrai then carried it through ALL future lifetimes. Which is why Echo still has that scar as a Human -> Eevee -> Umbreon. Despite Darkrai receiving this injury during the peak of their final battle, Echo has bore it for all of her past lives up until the point she actually GIVES it to Darkrai. A new wound for him. An old wound for her.

Simultaneously, Darkrai inflicted the neck scar onto Echo who then carries this mark the rest of her life as an Umbreon. It's a bit of a coincidence that her neck scar ends up somewhat, strangely, resembling the red fringe that Darkrai has around his own neck. She finds this to be some kind of messed up joke being played on her by the universe, because now there's ANOTHER reminder of her old life being thrust in her face whenever she catches a glimpse of her reflection. (It's bad enough looking like Dusknoir as an Umbreon, but now this too? How unfortunate.)

A major purpose to these scars is that I think they are a bold (albeit complicated) way to show that both your past and present choices can cause self-harm when destructive, and that it can leave permanent marks that will haunt you through your entire life (or lives in this case!) but that in the end it doesn't define you. Despite everything, you can still grow beyond the trauma inflicted upon yourself. You can be more than the bad choices that hurt you. You can learn to live beyond your own perception and expectations! You can let go of your own mistakes and let them heal/scar, let them fade. And move on to be better.

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++

And my friend, you are not overthinking things. I haven't explained Echo's progression through her life-stages yet, but hopefully I can shed some light on that topic now. (Apologies ahead of time if this is overly convoluted!)

Echo did change gender! Like this:

(Darkrai) he/him or they/them -> (Human) they/them -> (Eevee/Umbreon) she/her or they/them

The reasoning behind this particular progression is that I am guilty of inserting the main game lore into PMD. Whenever I think of legendary or mythical Pokemon (that aren't officially assigned male or female like Latios and Latias) I always immediately think of them as nonbinary in my mind. Darkrai in the PMD universe seems to use male pronouns as mentioned (or rather in the movie, like you stated, had a male-presenting voice) so I think Echo would have used he/him as a personal preference while living as Darkrai. However, he was still technically "genderless" as a mythical (or even nonbinary) and thus was comfortable with they/them as well.

Echo as a human is nonbinary and no longer uses male pronouns. I like to think of them as Echo's "blank slate" form. They think, feel, and appear in very simple but strong terms. And as such their gender binary has been washed away too! They use they/them because it's what Grovyle chose when he met them in the dark future. Grovyle decides that Echo is human based on what minimal knowledge he's gained from ancient tales/myths/glyphs about extinct humans, but he has no idea what a true human would look like since humanity is long dead. And since Echo has no distinct male or female characteristics as a pseudo-human, Grovyle doesn't shove them into a specific box of labels and instead starts using they/them to accommodate. Echo accepts it. Besides, with both amnesia clouding their past and a body that doesn't quite fit, Echo never really felt compelled to argue against his decision. It seemed counter-intuitive and like a waste of energy to argue. Echo was too busy being angry about other things to really care.

Echo as an Eevee/Umbreon uses she/her pronouns. This is because Sora starts using them immediately upon meeting Echo on the beach, and Echo (with a second round of amnesia and a body that now presents more towards female appearances) accepts it because it just makes sense. She has no memory of her past, and because Sora wholeheartedly starts calling Echo "she", well, Echo just goes with it. Because someone as sweet as Sora must know what she's talking about, right? She doesn't seem like the type to lie or play pranks, after all.

Additional note: Even as an Eevee/Umbreon, Grovyle still uses they/them for Echo since that's what he's used too. And Echo is fond of him using it anyway, so she is comfortable with it. It feels like a little promise between them. And it brings back some of the sparse good memories Echo had with Grovyle while stuck in the dark future together.

Additional ADDITIONAL note: Once Echo and Cresselia have begun reconciliation and start repairing their sibling relationship, she often refers to Echo has her "brother" out of old habit (eons of habit, really). Cresselia normally apologizes for the mistake and tries to correct herself but Echo isn't bothered by this at all. "I'm still your brother," Echo tells her, "If that's what you want to call me, then I see no reason to stop." And Cresselia appreciates it, because she's really trying, but it might take a little bit to re-train herself.

And you got it, my friend! The change in Echo's pronouns IS symbolism about how Echo has grown/evolved beyond her original self. That she is no longer the same being of pain and fury that Darkrai was-- and that she has moved away from this shadow of her past. That she has struggled to become something she's proud of, someone tempered by patience and hope. Love has changed Echo, and thus Echo is happy with this new version of herself because her loved ones chose it for her. And she is okay with that!

I also really enjoy the idea that while Echo and Cresselia are still opposites in both powers and personality, they now share common ground on at least ONE thing after being entirely different for their whole mutual existence. They can relate. They can be siblings again. They can heal. And they do together, they work and work and work on being good to each other and being overall better individuals. And they learn to love each other again. <3

[hpanalyses]

Can you please do a weasel patronus, I especially look forward to the Hufflepuff one

weasel patronus

patronus #5

(requested)

those with a weasel patronus are rather spontaneous and playful. they are impulsive and can make decisions without fully thinking through the consequences. because of this, they can dive into great opportunities, but they are also prone to biting off more than they can chew. they are primarily ruled by instinct and intuition. despite all this, they are also quite sly—having a bad reputation for breaking into henhouses and often outsmarting humans. their wit and strategic minds shine when faced with a hard challenge. most people of this patronus would suit all houses, but make admirable slytherins and gryffindors.

GRYFFINDOR as mentioned earlier, weasels are impulsive by nature. they trust in their intuition rather than their logic, and as a result, they can also be quite aggressive. i would expect a gryffindor with this patronus to be someone easily spurred into action and quite in tune with their own emotions. additionally, these gryffindors are hardly afraid of any battle, eager to fight even if their opponent is stronger. you could hardly find a feistier person than a gryffindor weasel.

SLYTHERIN for most people, before they remember a weasel's impulsive, aggressive personality, they think of their slyness. in fact, they have been depicted as such for ages. the shoshone and paiute tribes depict weasels as a trickster spirit, and in the past, the irish, scots and greeks thought even the sight of one to be bad luck. all this to say—slytherin weasels are sneaky. and quick-witted. if you ever need to break into gringotts, maybe take a slytherin weasel. you can trust them to employ the perfect kind of mix of logic and intuition.

RAVENCLAW this ravenclaw would love a good puzzle, metaphorical or literal, or a nice game of chess—anything to stretch their problem-solving muscles. essentially, they need to be intellectually challenged. these ravenclaws are the kind of people to pick up a long-unsolved problem in their area of interest just for fun. to sum it up, these ravenclaws are the most creative people you could meet. they'd probably invent something. i haven't thought about astrology in ages, so i could be completely off in thinking this, but the idea of a ravenclaw weasel made my mind scream air sign (gemini, libra, aquarius).

HUFFLEPUFF these hufflepuffs are probably quite bubbly, and you can always count on them for a good time. they're that cool aunt or uncle you wish you had. while they have a good sense of justice and loyalty (as all hufflepuffs do), they're probably not the most patient. they live in the here and now, and really, who can fault them for it? all of this shrouds their wit, but it's still there, and it can come up in the most surprising of times. if you need a friend to get you out of a tough spot, you can trust this weasel to put their all into it. and likely succeed.

(i'm so sorry this took forever... i literally haven't been on tumblr in years, and my only excuse is life. this is the first post i've done in at least a year or something, so if it's substandard, please take my apologies again)

next up is ... calico cat!

[onebirthdaywishes]

The significance of a JANUARY 2 birthday and your future

January 2 VS Capricorn

The individual born on January 2 is ambitious and determined, with a competitive nature that's been tempered by the spirit of cooperation. Although you're more relaxed than some Capricorns, you are just as willing to work hard for what you want. You want to make it to the top, but not necessarily alone. You enjoy joint enterprises and interacting with a partner or group. You sense other people's needs and desires, and when a mediator is called for, you're often the one they turn to.

Those born on this date are lovers of art and music and know how to put their creativity to practical use. Consequently, your strong intellect is more concrete than abstract. Learning for its own sake holds little appeal for you. You'd rather channel your ideas toward a specific goal. Totally devoted to the principles of law and order, you place a high value on fairness and justice for everyone. In business, you make an outstanding executive who's popular with associates, co-workers, and clients.

You're gracious and sociable, and relating comes naturally to you. You may not feel whole without the companionship of a mate or partner. However, it usually takes more than love and romance to hold your interest. What you really need is someone who shares your goals and your strong sense of purpose.

BLESSING

How to wish for 1st birthday

1. Baby, mommy's love is always with you. Happy 1st birthday baby!

2. Family is a treasure, all is well, happy baby's first birthday!

3. Happy first birthday baby! Thank you for growing up with mommy!

4. Good baby, you are my pride forever! Happy baby's first birthday!

5. Happy first birthday to the baby! Grow up fast and be in great health!

PERSONALITY

You have the success type of personality. Personal magnetism is so strongly accented in your makeup that you can make anyone in any walk of life your friend. Many people criticize you for one fault in your nature—that you don’t concentrate your abilities in one direction. It seems you have so many talents that you spread them thin instead of concentrating them in the one place they will do the most good. In some respects, you are unpredictable. For example, you will go along cooperatively and smoothly, and then, suddenly, when you think someone is taking advantage of you, you will become aggressively domineering. For the most part, you are unselfish and generous, but you dislike people who never give, and you loathe people who break appointments.

LIFE PATH

Your love of family is so great that it may be regarded as the keystone of your character. For the ones you love, you would attempt anything, and the very intensity of your love and determination to succeed for them will carry you far on the road to success. Your wholeheartedness will win for you an unusual degree of loyalty, fidelity, and devotion.

DESTINY

Success in business depends on your solving each problem as it comes up, rather than postponing decisions. Study carefully every situation involving money. Important facts requiring cautious scrutiny lie hidden from others but are obvious to you. In considering old plans, you sometimes find worthwhile possibilities for new endeavors. Analyze your goals in life, and keep your attention steadfastly fixed on them.

KARMIC LESSON

You are extremely tactful and resourceful, born on this day, and you love intrigue and puzzles. You have a great eye for detail and are a good judge of human nature. You are a hard worker and do not take many holidays. You are not naturally affectionate, though you often do acts of kindness, which you know will be appreciated. You are intensely interested in practical and material things, and you have probably so developed this side of your nature that it dwarfs your spiritual side. You are inclined to be melancholy at times, and this you should aim to overcome partly by mental methods and partly by making yourself go outdoors more into the air and sunshine, even if you don’t care to.

SECRET

You may instinctively be a good interior designer and good with color. You may be capricious in relationships.

For more information please log in: https://www.onebirthdaywishes.com

[kiris-wife]

illicit affairs | kiri sully

summary: reader struggles with her asshole of a boyfriend, ao'nung. kiri wants you to know that she could treat you better than he ever did — but she's too scared to do so, until she gets the little push she needed by an event in particular. but things don't go exactly as planned. pt two here!

genre(s): angst. a little bit of fluff if you squint

warnings: toxic relationship (i tried to make it not too heavy), kiri is a jealous gal, a little bit of angst and comfort, cheating from both parties, reader and kiri have an homoaffective friendship from the start, they're all 18-19 in this since it's a little mature, lmk if i missed something, i don't think ao'nung would act like this in a relationship so it's a little ooc

you wonder how things ended up like this. ao'nung used to treat you like a princess: gifts, sweet words, loving dates and kisses, the whole package. 9 months later you found yourself screaming at each other after he got caught with another girl. again.

"this is your fault, you know. if you gave me more attention instead of being with that sully girl, i wouldn't be doing this. YOU ruined this relationship, y/n. this is on you."

"i'm the one to blame for? really? because as far as i can remember, everytime i try to aproach you now, you're too busy for me. it's like i don't even exist anymore! you just talk to me to make my life a living hell! you're losing me, ao'nung."

"what the fuck is wrong with you? you should really take a look at yourself, you know. stop thinking you're all that. im not losing shit, y/n. you're the one losing me. do you really think that someone besides me would want you?"

his voice was lowered down, almost sounding like a growl. the boy was so close now you could feel his unsteady breath, angry eyes piercing at your skull; feeling small and fragile next to your boyfriend, you had no comeback for this. because deep down, you knew he was right. you couldn't do better than him. trying to hold your tears, you quickly pushed ao'nung away and left the marui, not letting him say another word to you.

honestly, you had no idea where you were going. you just needed to feel safe. loved. understood. only one na'vi in pandora would get you like this. but as it was the middle of the night, she probably was fast asleep now. so you went to your usual meeting place instead, hoping that maybe the great mother would send her a signal that you were needing help.

an isolated place at the beach, far from the all the gathering of na'vi. you lay your back in the sand and close your eyes, letting the tears roam free on your face. eywa, what have you done to deserve this? you gave everything you could to ao'nung, you really did. but nothing seemed to be enough to fix your broken relationship, the shattered pieces too small to be collected. lost in your own thoughts, the young girl didn't notice the approach of her best friend.

"y/n?" the familiar voice warmed your whole body, making you feel like all the problems in the world disappeared. now, it was just the two of you. maybe the goddess heard your prayers, after all.

you quickly wipe away your tears as you get up, an action that didn't go unnoticed by the other girl. she sat beside you and put an arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer to her. your arms are wrapped around her waist, and your head resting on her chest. kiri was always like this with you: so caring and understanding. it's almost like you were made for each other, two completing puzzle pieces.

"what are you doing here? it's the middle of the night. you should be asleep." you said, choking a sob.

"i couldn't sleep. being here brings me a peaceful sensation, so i came." she said circling her thumb on you, letting a sigh escape. "he did it again. didn't he? y/n, come on. you're better than this. stop letting him ruin your sanity like that." kiri's voice sounded hurt, like she was feeling your pain too. "i can't stand seeing this asshole treating you like this. you deserve so much better than him, sweetheart."

you lifted you head to look at your friend in the eyes. oh, those eyes. sometimes you felt like you just got lost in eachothers looks, you had no idea how she got you feeling like this. it was wrong. you knew it was, but you couldn't keep yourself from saying the words that left your lips:

"someone like you would be perfect. actually, you, kiri sully, would be perfect for me." your hands left her waist and where now resting on her face. "if only i could date my best friend!" you jokingly said, the forest na'vi letting a smirk form on her lips that quickly faded and got replaced with her classic eyeroll.

"stop joking. i'm being serious, y/n! you can't let him keep treating you like this, it's getting ridiculous." she removed your hands from her face and looked away. "you need to have more self respect. you're young, pretty, and independent too. you don't need him."

"i won't find someone better than him. and it's not that bad too... i'm sure we can work things out, kiri. he's just in a bad place right now."

"do you even love him?" the jealousy was visible in her voice, but you didn't notice, like every sign that could led you to think that she was into you.

the silence was loud. the truth is: you didn't. the ao'nung you loved was long gone, but for some reason, you got attached; you couldn't let him go, even though he was deeply scarring you. at this point, you found a little bit of comfort in the sadness he made you feel.

kiri laid her back in the sand, letting out a deep breath. "don't lie to me now. i know you don't. why do you keep fighting? what do you see in him?"

your mouth opened, and then closed. and then it opened again: "i don't know. i don't love him. but i... i can't leave him, kiri. nobody besides him would want me." it sounded like a whisper, but it was enough for your friend to hear.

your words kept repeating in kiri's head like a mantra "you would be perfect for me". and the way you looked at her too, like she was the most precious thing in the world made her wonder if she could shoot her shot.

fuck it. she thought.

"y/n. look at me." she said as she sat down again, looking at your face. her tone was demanding, and you couldn't help but feel nervous. kiri had her hands on your shoulders, a serious expression on her face.

"i know that you're in a complicated situation right now. i know that it's hard to leave the place you're in. but i can't keep seeing you suffering so much–" she paused for a moment, thinking if this was really worth it. it was a shot in the dark, she could lose your friendship forever if things went wrong. but it was too late to turn back now. "–and i think... i mean. uhm. we form a good pair. and i really like you. i know right now is not the best time but if i don't do this now i'll never will and–"

"kiri." you interrupted; she could feel her heart drop to her knees. oh no, you didn't feel the same, and now she had screwed up everything. "i see you."

that was the confirmation she needed: your hands made their way to her waist as she cupped your face, locking your lips with a sweet, loving kiss. tears streamed down your face, but now they were happy tears — because you felt loved, cared for, cherished, desired. something you haven't felt in so long.

but it didn't last. kiri separated the kiss and looked at you in disbelief, regretting her previous actions. she just realized what she did. she confessed to you. and kissed you. right after you said you couldn't leave your toxic boyfriend. now, her vision was the one blurred with tears. she felt like the other woman. the na'vi quickly got up, not knowing what to do: "i have to go. good night, y/n."

"kiri, don't do this. don't leave me here after doing this, please wait."

but she didn't listen to you.

authors note: so... this is gonna have a pt two! i wasn't planning on making it a series but i thought that it was best to leave you guys on a bit of a cliffhanger (also i didn't want it to be too long). this is my first self insert fic ever so i apologize for the amount of repetitive words!! im brazilian so my english vocabulary is not the best too

likes + reblogs are appreciated ♡

[helluvabossrewrite45]

Hello, I just wanna say that your scene rewrites are amazing. Seeing Stars has got to be one of my favourites.

On the topic of Octavia, I agree that Viv and her team missed an opportunity with Via. To me in the context of the narrative, Octavia can be a tragic character that is screwed over by the writing. It is implied that she takes after Stolas with her love of astronomy as their form of bonding. Yet, she slowly watches her father drift away from them and is probably wondering if they—she even matters to him. You’re just watching a parent that you had a close bond to just leave you behind because they found someone else that captivated their interest. On top of the divorce that is currently going on would leave a child feeling doubtful.

I also just never understood why the writers want to keep having her being mad at her dad, even though they say that Stella has clearly been ruining the family, yet it’s his fault? Half the time the writing seesaws on Stella and Via’s dynamic because the only time she does care is when Stolas is there and…I get that could be counted as gaslighting, but the character lacks subtlety that it’s hard to tell when she’s always yelling. More often she doesn’t even care for her with two episodes implying this.

I just in general feel frustrated with this family because either avenue could be interesting if the writers took it seriously enough but they don’t and instead choose spur of the moment scenes that we have to use as jigsaw puzzle with some pieces not fitting because world building barely matters.

Sorry for the ramble. You’re version or fix it is probably one of my top favourites for the characters because I can definitely see the use of the loosely outlined jigsaw puzzle. Have a nice day/evening.

Thank you anon, im glad you like my rewrites

I agree 100% with via, they did the same thing with moxxie to her, that being repeating the same arc again of her being mad at her dad but forgive him in the end. It kind of shows that just like moxxie, they didnt know what to do with her which is a shame because the small details she has are there to be fully explored, but they never explore them. Like her and music, she oftens listens it even at the dinner table and with stellas reaction to the cheating affair, we can peice a puzzle of her doing it as a coping mechanism; escaping her problems through distraction. And with seeing stars main plot is around via running away to see a meteor shower, it would've been perfect to explore that side of her along with more knowledge of the family in general to piece this puzzle their giving (like the relationship with her mom, her uncle, the rest of their family, how they react to the situation, how their currently dealing with it, etc...) through flashbacks (since the whole point would've been that these issues wont go away no matter how much you try to ignore them) And yes, her closeness with her father drifting away is definitely tragic and its sucks that it wasnt futhered explored, especially with the entire goetta situation as a whole since were in season 2 and we dont even know how they reacted to it. It makes me wonder why even give us these pieces to solve properly if its so little that it makes it pretty impossible without theorizing from any vague info we have and thats not how problem solving works.

And yes, its odd that shes only mad at stolas but never to stella. I mean, i get she would be on her moms side because of him cheating but still with how stella is written, you'd think she'd hate her too. In this rewrite, stella would actually be subtle in her abuse to stolas in a way where you can still recognise it but also understand why other (like via) wouldnt. An example of this would be my first post where her and stolas confront each other about the divorce, the quote; '-or did you forget? Like you always do?'. Its meant to showcase her most common tactics, shaming. From her background (that i'll explain further in her own post), she oftens picks up things from her family, which shaming is included. She would shame stolas whenever he makes a mistake or does something she doesnt approve of (like if he wore a suit she didnt like, she would say; 'you know were meeting your family right? You think they want to see their son of royalty in that sort of wear?' or them arguing on how much time via should spend on her astronomy lessons; 'Shes going to be a future you and what, you wanna just, make her lazy, huh?!' (or even 'I didnt think you'd care that less for your own daughter....') See these are what you could recognise as shaming but also understand why people may not consider it so, potentially using excuses like 'oh shes probably right because its royalty/she just cares about looking good enough for her family' or 'oh she just cares for her daughter and her future' (ironically enough, those are kind of what fans AND the show itself use as an excuse for stolas lmao) but just because via doesnt recognise stella's abusive tendencies, doesnt mean she isnt upset with her. She very much is, mainly with stella's aggressiveness as stella developed anger issues throughout her life and didnt have anything to help it. Via hates it whenever stella yells because of course she would be, no one likes angry loud noises! Its just that unlike with stolas, shes not as open with her frustration to her mother because shes genuinely scared of her from that aggression that makes it much more harder to truly express her feelings about her, instead keeping it to herself along with her feelings towards how the rest of the family is reacting to it given that it just feels too much for her to be involved in. So the reason why shes only open on being mad at stolas is despite what he did, he's the only one she feels safe in being mad about (I mean, she does have andrealphus as someone safe to an extent though he's very dismissive of telling her whats going on with the goetias and definetly doesnt take being wrong well like stella so hes not much better) that way, it'd be more understandable and futher peice the puzzle of their family and their dynamic. Family itself is quite complicated because of the nuances it has behind it and i wanna incorporate that to the goetias were their not fully evil but tend to care about their statuses rather then whats right in front of them (that being them as a family) since i think its interesting to explore and wouldve suit stolas, stella and octavia really well.

No need to apologise for rambling, i like getting asks of peoples thoughts/ideas on helluva. Hell look, im rambling too. I hope you enjoy the future rewrites i have in store, have a nice day/evening too

[dragonsareourfuture]

Ways the Death Note Cast Show They Trust You

I lost some inspiration towards the middle there, I’m sorry!!

L

- he will always have Watari make extra servings of food just for you. It’s a bit startling at first. So suddenly there’s just food in front of you that you think is for L, but when you push it towards him, he pushes it right back to you.

“You don’t want it?” He’d ask, leaving you confused until you finally put the pieces together.

“Oh, I…I guess I didn’t realize it was for me. My bad.” You begin eating. “Thank you.”

L simply hums and continues with whatever he was just up to.

- You know that thing cats do where they’re sitting perfectly still, eyes closed, guard slightly down, but still not quite asleep? I can picture L doing something like this during any moment of downtime he gets. Just sitting, scrunched up in his chair or wherever he happens to be, eyes closed but the cogs in his brain are still turning. You notice him doing this when it is only you and him in the room, simply thinking it’s because of the moment of rare solitude. Little do you know, it’s because he trusts that you won’t hurt him or let anything bad happen to him.

- L is a person who prefers to be in charge of his own life. He likes knowing what’s going on around him at all times and when things are out of his hands he can’t help but feel uncomfortable. However, with a person he’s developed a close relationship with and knows he can trust with everything he has, L will feel more comfortable leaving decisions up to them. You’ll have to start small though, like being the one to plan a surprise date. He might feel a bit uncomfy at the beginning, shifting around and possibly even insisting he sit so that he can see the exits clearly, but he eases into it eventually. Soon you both find yourselves joking around in the odd way that you do and gorging on cake and ice cream.

Mello

- being vulnerable is something Mello isn’t too keen on. He already feels vulnerable most of the time and would kick himself if he let that show through his actions. If Mello truly trusts you, he will feel as though he can be vulnerable around you without any judgement on your end. Small acts that show vulnerability such as asking you to help him with something he can’t quite handle on his own — even if it’s something as simple as not being able to reach something off a shelf or being unsure about how to fix something. Eventually, he’ll work his way up to the bigger stuff like being physically wounded in front of you or having a mental block.

- Sharing his clothes with you or letting you pick his outfit for him. Now, it sounds like he’s just being a little diva and that’s only partially true. But his clothes are important to him, they’re a factor that sets him aside from his plain-dressing rival and in his eyes they make him more interesting than him, visually at least. He’s happy to dress you up, and it is true that he has to have a close relationship with you to want to do so, but you should be especially proud if he lets you alter his appearance in any way.

- He likes to believe that he’s had his goals set out from the beginning. Surpass Near, become the next L, and go on from there. What he pushes to the back of his brain are the moments he’s been studying and he’s asked himself ‘What if I went down a different path?’. He quickly pushes these thoughts away, but they keep coming back. What would life be like if this wasn’t an option for him? What if he were a writer? What if he lived in the city with people he loves and went to the movies every Friday? Unwillingly, he has a whole list of possibilities. If he truly trusts you, he’ll share every single one with you. Whether it’s dropping hints or confessing them one by one late at night, he can’t help but feel that they’re safe with you.

Misa

- it seems a bit surface level, but it’s true — Misa will talk down on Light in front of you if she trusts you. But it’s not straight away. She had developed a lot of courage to actually break up with him, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t still doubt her decision to do so. It’s only when she finds out from you how loved ones are supposed to treat each other — with kindness and respect — that she feels her decision to ditch Light was the entirely right one. Slowly, she’ll start to admit to you all the things she hated about Light, starting with some of his mannerisms and building up to something like how he forced her to leave the entertainment business.

- Misa is…dramatic. She likes to go above and beyond for someone she’s infatuated with and make sure they’re the happiest they can be. If she trusts you enough to develop this kind of infatuation and, with some development, less of an obsession and more of a strong, bonding love, you will be doted on to the point where it’s almost ridiculous. You could be at home during one of her work days and you’ll get a delivery of lunch from your favorite takeout place because Misa was ‘thinking of you <3’, as she explains when you text her asking why food randomly showed up at your place. It’s rather sweet.

- Misa’s a pretty talkative person in general, that’s a well known fact. She’ll talk about clothes, a cute birdie she saw on her way home, really anything that comes to mind. But, she’ll do that with about anyone who’ll listen. It’s gradual, so it’s hard to notice, but if Misa grows to trust you she’ll start talking about some of the more serious things that have been on her mind for a while, those things that she thought would scare off anyone she liked because of how personal they are to her. Her family before they died, for example. It’s something that Misa thinks about. So much. But she doesn’t really talk about it. She wants to forget, put the past behind her but because she’s never talked about it with anyone it’s hard to do that. She’ll talk about her family to you, the little things her sister used to do and some things her parents did that she misses.

Matsuda

- Matsuda often begins to idolize those who he thinks are trustworthy and have a good heart. He starts to tell you how much he loves when you do x and that he wishes he could perform as well as you in that area. In a sense, he trusts you with his vulnerability, letting you know that he thinks of himself as less than satisfactory and how he wishes he could do better, only he channels it by pointing out good things about you. If…that makes sense.

- This sounds dire, but he’ll risk his life for the people he completely, without a doubt trusts. He was willing to do so with Chief Yagami, someone he saw as a father figure, and he would certainly be willing to do so with you, someone who he feels he has a deep emotional connection to. Whether you’re in a situation where he would need to or he’s just saying that he would, he means it.

- Matsuda trusts you to not make fun of him when he overshares or talks too much or anything his coworkers brush him off for. He feels that he can talk about things he finds funny and talk about his life without worrying about what you think of him when he does.

Matt

- he would drop everything to help you. Whether that’s dropping his game to help you kill a bug or leaving his duties behind to help you out of a life or death situation. Whichever scenario you happen to find yourself in he’s there no matter what.

- He’ll invite you into his personal life. I know this is kind of a given but Matt had the chance to become the next L. He had the chance to become something “great” and he said “ummm rather not” to it because it wasn’t something he wanted. If he shares this information with you, he trusts you not to leave him for something better when you discover the status he could have had and refused. He trusts you to appreciate him because of him and not the intelligence everyone but him cherishes.

- He leaves you alone around important technology and software he’s hacked. Unfortunately for him, betrayal comes with the business he’s got himself into and, if Matt really trusts you on both a professional and emotional level, he won’t have a problem worrying about whether or not you’ll take advantage of his coffee break to gather information for some other organization or something. He will literally just go “mkay babe I gotta go fuel up on caffeine real quick, you’re good watching the hacked government database right? Cool cya.”

Near

- Near trusts you to take him to public places. Sounds simple, yeah. But Near has never liked crowds, or even just too many strangers in a wide open place. It’s strange to everyone observing how one day he decides he needs a new toy, his old one having broken due to old age, and asks you to take him to the toy store. He’s questioned, people wondering why he wouldn’t rather you just go alone but Near insists. Apparently the toy that broke is special addition and he wants to make sure you get the right one. He stays close to you the whole way, not really saying much, but he’s there and that’s a big step for him.

- He helps you out with puzzles. Basically cheats for you. When he’s eyeing one specific empty slot, coughing lightly to get your attention, just know that he’s not helping you because he thinks you need it. Quite the opposite actually. With anyone else, he believes that they should be able to solve it on their own. He thinks that if they can’t, then that’s their fault. But with you…it’s as if he trusts that you’re intelligent enough without the puzzle being an indicator of that intelligence, so much so that he thinks the puzzle itself is obsolete when it comes to you. He doesn’t need a puzzle to know how smart you are.

- He’ll eat the foods you make him. Near’s picky eater-ness is above that of a child who only eats chicken tenders and pizza. He doesn’t eat that many people’s food because he knows it’s probably not he way he likes it. But with you, he trusts that you respect his eating habits and know him well enough to get it right the first time. Though he does check the food out for a bit, he’ll eat it. Sometimes all of it. Fuckin astonishing to Rester who had attempted many times to heat up microwave dinners for the guy.

[archivxx]

✯[0.05]✯

Previous || Next

Note: I am probably insane. No I definitely am. But that aside I will never be a home wrecker.

You had never been to Donovan’s department before, but you knew exactly where to find it. It was the biggest sales point for the whole company, therefore they took pride in it. Even going to such lengths as to making Donovan his own office and personal booth for filming his music. But as valued as it was, it was coveted by the unanimous and never-ending source of resentment towards Donovan. You had to swipe your badge twice to get into the department (you rolled your eyes both times). The second door took you directly to the main office area. He had a big team. Maybe it was because he was tall or maybe it was because he was the only person on their feet, but Donovan was the very first person you noticed. Hell, he was the very first thing your noticed. He was talking to one of his managers, looking rather stern. Scary. But, despite how focused he was, he turned his head towards the entrance the moment you came in.

You smiled weakly at him—mainly out of relief at having found him.

It was going to be fine. You were going to explain to him what Kyle had told you, and without a doubt find it categorically unacceptable and fix it for the both of them, because you could not spend your next few years surrounded by people who thought that you were dating Clyde fucking Donovan.

The problem was, Donovan wasn’t the only person who noticed you there were more desk then your could count, all of them occupied. Most of them—all of them—were staring at you. Probably because most of them—all of them—had heard that you were dating their boss.

Fuck your life.

“Can I talk to you for a minute—” you coughed awkwardly, you had to do it. “—Clyde?” Rationally, you knew that the room wasn’t furnished in a way that made echoing possible. Still, you felt as though your words bounced off the walls and repeated about five times.

He nodded, nonplussed, and handed some files to the man he was talking to before heading in your direction. He appeared either unaware of uncaring that approximately two-thirds of his staff were gaping at him. The remaining ones seemed on the verge of a hemorrhagic stroke.

He led you to a meeting room just outside the main office space, got followed him silently, trying not to dwell on the fact that a department full of people thought that you were dating Donovan and they had just seen you both enter a private room. Alone.

The was the worst. The absolute worst.

“Everyone knows,” you blurted out as soon as the door closed behind you.

He studies you for a moment, looking puzzled. “Are you okay?”

“Everyone knows. About us”

He cocked his head, folding his arms over his chest. It had been barley a day since you’d last talked, but apparently long enough for you to have forgotten his…his presence. Or what ever it was that made you feel like your were tiny, insignificant when you were around him. “Us?”

“Us.”

He seemed confused, so you elaborated.

“Us, dating. Not that we’re dating, but clearly Nichole thought so and she told…” you realised that the words were tumbling out so you forced yourself to slow down. “Tolkien. And he told everyone and now everyone knows. Or they think they know even though there’s absolutely nothing to know. As you and I know.”

He took it in for a moment then nodded slowly. “And when you say everyone...?”

“I mean everyone.” You pointed in the direction of his office. “Those people? They know. Other people in this building? They know. Em on reception? She absolutely knows. Gossip in this industry is the worst. They all think I am dating hot shot Clyde Donovan.”

“I see.” He said, seeming strangely unbothered by this clusterfuck. It should have calmed you down but it only have the effect of driving your panic up a notch.

“I am sorry this happened. So sorry. This is all my fault.” You dragged a hand down your face. “But I didn’t think that…I understand why Nichole would tell Tolkien—I mean, getting those two together was the whole point of this stupid charade—but…why would Tolkien tell anyone?”

He shrugged. “Why wouldn’t he?”

You looked up. “What do you mean?”

“Excuse my rudeness but, an upcoming band member dating an already established and—well—famous artist seems like an interesting piece of information to share.”

You shook your head. “It’s not that interesting m. Why would people be interested?”

He lifted one eyebrow. “Someone told me that ‘Gossip in this industry is the wor—’”

“Okay okay. Point taken.” You took a deep breath and started pacing. Trying to ignore the way he was studying you, how relaxed he looked. Arms folded in his chest while leaning against the conference table. He was not supposed to be calm. He was supposed to be incensed. He was a known dick with a reputation for arrogance—the ides of people thinking we was dating a nobody should be mortifying to him. The burden of freaking out should not be falling in you alone.

“This is—we need to do something, of course. We need to tell people that it’s not true. That we made it all up. Except they’ll think that I’m crazy. And maybe that you are too, so we have to come up with some other story. Yes, okay, we need to tell people we’re not together anymore—”

“And what will Nichole and what’s-his-face do?”

You stopped pacing. “Huh?”

“Wont your friends feel bad about dating if they think we’re not together? Or that you lied to them?”

You hadn’t thought of that. “I—Maybe. Maybe but—”

It was true that Nichole’s had seemed happy. Maybe she had already invited Tolkien to accompany her to that movie festival—possibly right after telling him about you and Donovan, damn her. But this is exactly what you had wanted.

“Are you going to tell the truth?”

You let out a panicked sound. “I can’t. Not now.” God why did you every agree to date Tolkien? You weren’t even that into him. Yeah, he was cute but not worth any of this. “Maybe we tell people that I broke up with you?”

“That’s very flattering,” He deadpanned. You couldn’t quite figure out if he was joking.

“Fine. We can say that you broke up with me.”

“Because that soundscredible,” he said dryly. Almost below his breath. You weren’t sure you’d heard him correctly and hand no idea what he might mean, but you were starting to feel very upset. Fine, you had been the one to kiss him first—God, you’d kissed Clyde Donovan; this was your life; there’s were your choices—but his actions in the kitchen the day befofe surgery hadn’t helped matters. He could at least display some concern. There was no way he was okay with everyone believing he was dating some random girl who’s hardly even a significant or well known member of the band that she’s in because she’s just a summer.

“What if we tell people it was a mutual breakup?”

He nodded. “Sounds good.”

You perked up. “Really? Great, then! We’ll—”

“We could ask Em to add it to the company’s newsletter.”

“What?”

“Or do you think a public announcement before Monday briefings would be better?”

“No. No, it’s—”

“Maybe we should ask IT to put it on the front page of the website. That way people would know—”

“Okay, okay, fine! I get it.”

He looked at you evenly for a moment, and when he spoke, his tone was reasonable in a way you would have never expected of Clyde “Dick” Donovan. “If what bothers you is that people are talking about you dating me, the damage is done, I’m afraid. Telling everyone that we broke up will not undo that fact they think we dated.”

Your shoulders slumped. You hated that he was right. “Okay, then. If you have any ideas on how to fix this mess, by all means, I’m open to—”

“You could let them go on thinking it.”

For a moment you thought you hadn’t heard him correctly. “What?!”

“You can let people go on thinking that we’re dating. It solves your problem with your friend and what’s-his-name, and you don’t have much to lose since it’s sounds like from a…reputation standpoint” —he said the word reputation rolling his eyes a little, as if the concept of caring about what others think was the dumbest thing ever—“things cannot get much worse for you.”

This was…out of everything…in your life, you had never, never…

“What?” You asked again, feebly.

He shrugged. “Seems like a win-win to me.”

It so did not. To you? It seemed like a lose-lose, and then lose again, and then lose some more type of situation. It seemed insane.

“You mean…forever?” You thought your voice came out whiny, but it was possible that was an effect of the blood pointing in your head.

“That sounds excessive. Maybe until your friends are not dating anymore? Or until they are more settled? I don’t know. Whatever works, I guess.” He was serious about this. He was not joking.

“Are you not…” you had no idea how to ask it. “Married or something?” You were sure you’d seen something in the news about him dating. He had a fantastic job; tall with thick brown hair, clearly smart, even attractive looking. He was built. Yeah he was a moody dick but some women wouldn’t mind it. Some women might even like it.

He shrugged. “My wife and the twins won’t mind it.”

Oh shit.

You felt heat was over you. Heat rose to your cheeks and then you almost died of shame, because—God, you had forced a married man, a father, to kiss you. His wife was probably crying into her pillow. His kids would probably grow up with horrible daddy issues and become serial killers.

“I…Oh my God. I didn’t—I am so sorry”

“Just kidding.”

“I really had no idea that you—”

“Y/N. I was joking. I’m not married. No kids.”

A waved of relief crashed into you. Followed by just as much anger. “Donovan, this is not something to joke—“

“You really need to start calling me Clyde. Since we’ve been reportedly dating for a while.”

You exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Why would you even—what would you get out of this?”

“Out of what?”

“Pretending to date me. Why do you care? What’s in it for you” Donovan—Clyde—opened his mouth, and for a moment you had the impression that he was going to say something important. But then he averted his gaze. All that came out was “it would help you out.” He hesitated for a moment. “And I have my own reasons.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What reasons?”

“Reasons.”

“If it’s criminal, I’d rather not be involved.”

He smiles a bit. “It’s not.”

“If you don’t roll me, I’ll have no choice but to assume it’s kidnapping. Or arson. Or embezzlement.”

He seemed preoccupied for a moment, fingertips drumming against his biceps. It considerably strained his shirt. “If I tell you, it cannot leave this room.”

“I think we can both agree that nothing that has happened in this room should ever leave.”

“Good point.” He conceded. He paused. Sighed. Chewed on the inside of his cheek for a second. Sighed again. “Okay.” He finally said, sounding like a man who knew that her was going to regret speaking the second he opened his mouth. “I’m considered a flight risk.”

“Flight risk?” God, he was a felon on parole. A jury of his peers had convicted him for crime. He’d probably thrown a PC at someone for messing up a brand offer. “So it is something criminal.”

“What? No. The company suspects I’m making plans to move to our competitors since they’re going much much better than we are with new recruits and popularity. Normally it wouldn’t bother me, but they’ve started talking about dropping me before I drop them.”

“Oh.” Not what you’d thought. Not at all. “Can they?”

“Yes. Well, as “valuable” of a client I am to them, when this contract ends they can terminate me and not offer me a new one. But I don’t plan on moving as I’d do just as well without a record company helping me. They’re just a convenience.”

“But if it’s just a convenience—”

“I never said it was a bad one.” He said levelly. “I have deadlines to meet that are beyond my contract. Additionally, I’ve invested more than a little bit of money in this company.”

“Oh.” Come to think of it, you had been hearing scuttlebutt about Donovan being recruited with out competitors since you first made a record deal here. You’d even heard he’s be quitting all together occasionally. “Why do they think that? And why now?”

“A number of reasons. The most relevant is that a few months ago they sent me an offer—a very very large offer—but they have been trying to recruit me for months and I’m planning to do a brand that they’re working close in partnership with. Our company sees this as a threat that I’m going to transfer.” He hesitated before continuing. “More generally, I have been made aware that the…optics are that I have not made any large commitments and could up and leave to go anywhere in the world at any moment.”

“Large commitments?”

“My contract finishes this year, I have no extended family in the area. No wife. No kids. I’m currently renting—I’d have to bury a house just to convince them I don’t plan on leaving.” He was clearly irritated. “If I was in a relationship that would really help.”

Okay. That made sense. But. “Have you considered getting a real girlfriend?”

His eyebrows lifted. “Have you considered getting a real date?”

“Touché”

You fell silent and studied him for a few moments, letting him study you in return. Funny how you used to be scared of him. Now he was the only person in the world who knew about your worst fuckup ever, it was hard to feel intimidated—even harder, after discovering that he was the type of person who’d be desperate enough to date someone to prove to the company he wasn’t leaving. You were sure that you would do the exact same to finally achieve your dream, which made Clyde feel oddly…relatable. And if he was relatable you could go ahead and fake-date him, right?

No. Yes. No. What? You were crazy for even considering this. You had to me certifiably mental. And her your found yourself saying “it would be complicated.”

“What would be?”

“To pretend that we’re dating.”

“Really? It would be complicated to make people think we’re dating?”

Oh, he was impossible. “Okay, I see your point. But it would be hard to do so convincingly for a prolonged period.”

He shrugged. “We’ll be fine, as long as we say hi to each other in passing and you don’t call me Donovan.”

“I don’t think people who are dating just…say hi to each other.”

“What do people who are dating do?”

If beat you. You had gone on maybe seven dates in your whole life, including the ones with Tolkien, and they had ranged from moderately boring to anxiety inducing and horrifying (mostly when a guys had monologued about his grandmothers hit replacement in horrifying detail). You would have loved someone in your life, but you doubted it was in store for you. Maybe you were unloveable. Maybe spending so many years alone had warped you in some fundamental way and that was why you seemed to be unable to develop a true romantic connection, or even the type of attraction you often hear others talk about I. The end it really didn’t matter. Being in the public eye and dating went poorly together, which was probably why Clyde Donovan, hot shot singer who had women swooning over him, was standing here at his big adult age asking you what people do on dates.

Geeks, ladies and gentlemen.

“Um…thing. Stuff.” You racked your brain. “People go out and do activities together. Like apple picking or those Paint and Sip things.” Which are idiotic, you thought.

“Which are idiotic.” Clyde said, gesturing dismissively with his hand. “You could just go to Nichole and tell her we went out and painted a Monet. Sounds like she’d take care of letting everyone else know.”

“Okay first of all, it was Tolkien, let’s agree to blame Tolkien. And it’s more than that.” You insisted. “People who date, they—they talk. A lot. More than just greeting in the hallway. They know each others favourite colours and where they were born and they…hold hands. They kiss.”

Clyde pursed his lips together as if to suppress a smile. “We could never do that.”

A fresh wave of mortification crashed into you. “I am sorry about the kiss. Really, I didn’t think, and—”

He shook his head. “It’s fine.”

He did seem uncharacteristically indifferent to the situation, especially for a guy who freaks out when someone gets something minor wrong. No, he wasn’t indifferent. He was amused.

You cocked your head. “Are you enjoying this?”

“‘Enjoying’ is probably not the right word but you have to admit this is quite entertaining.”

You had no idea what he was talking about. There was nothing entertaining about the fact that you had randomly kissed him because he was the only person around at that, as a consequence of that tremendously idiotic action, everyone thought that you were dating your met exactly twice before today—

You burst intro laughter and folded into yourself before your train of thought was even over, overwhelmed by the sheer improbability of the situation. This was your life. These were the results of your actions. When you could finally breath again, your stomach hurt and you had to wipe your eyes. “This is the worst”

He was smiling, staring at you with a strange light in his eyes. And would you look at that, Clyde Donovan had dimples. Cute ones. “Yep.”

“And it’s all my fault.”

“Pretty much. I kind of yanked Nichole’s chain yesterday, but, yeah. I’d say that it’s mostly your fault.”

Fake dating. You and Clyde Donovan would have to be lunatic. “Wouldn’t it be a problem publicity wise if we aren’t seen together?”

He tilted his head, going serious. “No. As long as no one who knows tells anyone and we don’t do public outings we’re press could see us and leak it I see no issue. I can also ask around with the publicity manager.”

It was an epically bad idea. The worst idea ever entertained in the epically bad history of bad ideas. Except that it would solve this current problem of yours, as well as some of Clydes, in exchange for saying hi to him once a week and making an effort not to call him Donovan. It seemed like a pretty good deal.

“Can I think about it?”

“Of course.” He said calmly. Reassuringly.

You hadn’t thought he’d be like this. After hearing all the horror stories. Seeing him walking around with that perpetual frown of his. You really handing thought that he’d be like this. Even though you didn’t quite know what this even meant.

“And than you I guess for offering. Clyde.” You added the last word like an afterthought. Trying it out on your lips. It felt weird but right.

After a long pause, he nodded. “No problem. Y/N.”

Masterlist

[father-time-and-baby-new-year]

alphabet boy

SYNOPSIS: You should feel extremely lucky that the handsome and intelligent Armin Arlert is your tutor...even when he's a little mean to you. Because that's your fault, isn't it? He wouldn't have to be mean if you weren't so damn stupid.

PAIRING: Armin x FEM!Reader

DEDICATED TO: armin fuckers. non armin fuckers, i hope i can convert you.

TW: dubcon touching, manipulative behavior, gaslighting, academia shaming,

WC: 1.8k

“Maybe you’re not cut out for this class.”

He said it so casually, a comment spoken between the flip of textbook pages. You couldn’t shake off the undeniable hurt.

“I-Uhm, uh, yeah I have to study a lot...but I like this class. It was a pain to get off the waitlist.” You keep your voice optimistic and light, hoping to mask the offense taken.

You don’t know why Armin would say that, but maybe he was just being logical...he’s seen you struggle, of course, he’d think the class was too hard for you.

The blond sighs, closing his novel that he brought with him while he waited for you to finish your practice problems.

“You can barely keep up with the weekly homework assignments. You didn’t even hand in your assignment last week, right? Better drop out now before the add and drop deadline.” His voice is soft and cold at the same time. It’s unnerving.

You tuck your hair behind your ears, eyes set low, too ashamed to meet your tutor’s. Armin had been your tutor for the past few weeks now, and you thought it was going pretty well. He was so so smart that you couldn’t help but be a little starstruck. He was handsome too, short-cropped blond hair, wide blue eyes, with a wardrobe that was composed of slacks and sweaters.

Usually, he was always overly polite and charming. You could make countless mistakes and his patience was endless. He had some off-days where he was a little withdrawn and quiet. You never held it against him though, knowing he had no obligation to make idle chatter. But sometimes, you could feel his chilly gaze watching you even though he had a book propped open.

“I emailed the professor, he was really chill about it. Last week was really rough for me, you know? I wasn’t feeling well and...”

“You know excuses don’t fly in the real world right? You’re in college now. Professor Ackerman was just being courteous. He probably thinks you’re lazy.” Even though you try not to look at him, you can feel Armin’s azure blues burn holes into you. There was this quiet intensity about him that made you worry about when the restraints would come off.

Armin can’t help but let condescension drip over his words. Any self-respecting person would defend themselves, but not you. Not when you’re already broken by your own insecurities that make it that much easier for him to trample on.

He can already see pearly-sheened tears leaking from the corner of your hopeless eyes. How cute. You part your pretty little mouth to say something, but no words come out. You close your mouth soon enough, looking every bit like a dumb little airhead.

So he continues: “You know your classmates learned all the first few chapters from high school right? You’re the only one starting fresh.” He moves closer, elbows inching closer to infiltrate your little personal-space bubble, knees knocking into yours under the desk.

More tears form under your lower lashes, and Armin mentally counts the crystal droplets. You’re recoiling into yourself like a shrinking violet which only encourages Armin to go just a little farther.

“You don’t even have your major picked out yet. This is a core class for your classmates, you know. You’re wasting your-no, everyone’s time.”

Not wanting to cry in front of your tutor, you rub your eyes with the sleeve of your jacket, fully aware of how utterly pathetic you look right now.

In a small voice, you manage to utter, “I have a right...to be in this class. Even though I’m slow now, I think with some decent amount of studying...I’ll catch up. Even if I’m not-” you take a deep breath, “as quick as my classmates, I still really enjoy what I learn. And..and...I think at the end of the day, that’s what really matters!”

Armin scoffs, “Do you really like the class or are you staying for Ackerman? God knows how many fangirls he’s had to put up with.”

Even as he spoke those words, Armin knew it wasn’t entirely true. You admired the man zealously and had read all of his published papers. Honestly, your admiration had always annoyed him.

You wince at the insinuation but you could feel the anger simmering in your gut, “You have no right to imply that! Wh-why-” Your voice breaks, “are you being so mean?”

Armin thinks you’re so cute, the way you jut out your bottom lip. So cute and pathetic. The corners of his lips quirk upwards. It’s almost endearing how you say “mean” like it’s the worst thing a person can be.

“Am I being mean or am I being realistic?” The blond coos, “I’m your tutor, right? I know the best for you.”

He takes your silence as an invitation to goad you harder: “You’re only upset because I’m telling you what you don’t want to hear.”

You don’t notice the proximity until Armin lays his hand over yours, squeezing the soft flesh of your palms. His voice is gentle as he reassures you: “Hey, hey, don’t cry. It’s okay.”

He made you cry, but you don’t have it in you to pull away from the only semblance of comfort given to you. His chair scrapes the floor as he sets it right beside yours, wrapping an arm around you, encouraging you to lean your head against his shoulder.

It’s a little sad but this is probably the most physical contact you��ve gotten in a while. You’re an utter mess, and on top of all that, touch-starved.

You’re still sniffling like a crybaby, trying to sort your own emotions out. You take a few deep breaths and force yourself to face the facts:

You’re behind.

The class is too much work for you.

Armin’s right, you’re upset because he’s telling you what you don’t want to hear.

“D-do you really think I should drop the class?” Your voice is so defeated, a pinch louder than a whisper.

His long fingers play with the ends of your hair, “I know this class is really important to you and we both want you to do well...so why don’t we increase our tutoring sessions? Maybe we should meet three times a week.”

He smiles at you, and it looks so genuine. You’re immensely grateful, you are, but confusion washes over you, “Wow, Uh, that’ll be great actually but um, uni tutoring services is once a week...so-”

Armin dismisses your concerns with a gentle wave of his hands, “Don’t worry, It’ll be off the books. Think of this as private tutoring. Of course, we’ll have to start meeting in my room from now on.”

While he doesn’t elaborate on why you have to meet in his dorm, you assume Armin has a good reason and it probably involves university-sanctioned student-tutor guidelines.

You’re stammering out thank-you’s, still trying to rub the tears out of your eyes until you feel a soft handkerchief wiping them away.

“It’s okay, don’t worry.” He reassures, “Don’t use your sleeve. It’s too rough for your pretty face.”

You blush under his words, wide eyes locked into his oceanic blues, “I d-don’t know if I’ll be able to compensate you f-for the private tutoring.”

His eyebrows crease as he gives you a smile full of pearly teeth, “You don’t have to worry about that for now.” His hands graze over your knuckles, “We’ll figure something out.”

“Thank you Armin.” You say it so sincerely, trying to muster the biggest smile you can after the blond essentially trampled over your self-esteem to only nurse it back with sweet promises.

“Well, we better finish today’s work then.” He responds calmly, not bothering to detangle himself from you. You can feel his body heat radiating onto you, and how his hand moved to casually rest on your thigh. But that’s normal right? If you think about it, Armin was not exactly adverse to touch. During your past tutoring sessions, his hand would always be on the small of your back or shoulders.

“Hey, you’re not getting distracted again, are you?” His voice is playful like he isn’t sliding his hand up and down the span of skin between your skirt and tights. When you don't respond, he pinches your inner thigh, eliciting a startled gasp from you.

"Focus." It's a demand so it must be followed.

Embarrassed, you nod your head and return your focus to the problem sets even though your hands are shaky as you grip the ballpoint pen.

You don’t notice how the blond’s eyes gleam under the fluorescent lighting at your easy compliance. He’s always liked obedient girls.

Your thighs are growing warmer, and it doesn’t help to have Armin peering over you. Still, you try your best to lull yourself to focus until a ringtone breaks your concentration.

Armin breaks away from you to find his phone and you find your body subconsciously missing the warmth. He lightly curses under his breath once he sees the contact name, but answers nonetheless.

“Yeah...sorry babe. I forgot. I’ll be right over.” He sounds apologetic but he looks downright bored.

And like that, the call is over. He looks over at you with an apology falling from his lips, “Sorry about that. I forgot I had something to do today. We’ll end early.”

Your throat is dry as you ask, “Was that your girlfriend?” You regretted your words the moment they escaped. That was none of your business. It doesn’t matter if he was holding you earlier. He was doing so because you were bawling like a baby. But why did he touch your thighs?

That doesn’t have to mean anything, you rationalize. Besides, Armin would never make a move on you. He was a handsome senior with a perfect GPA and a powerful position in the student government. Stupid freshman girls like you are not worth the time he so generously gives out.

The blond smirks, seeming to notice your internal struggle, “Something like that. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure she won’t distract me from our future sessions.”

That was a puzzling comment. His girlfriend supposedly distracting from your study time wasn’t even a concern you held.

“No, no, that’s ok.” You quickly assure, “You’ve already helped me out so much.”

The blond pats the top of your head like you were a puppy, “I’d do anything for my cute little student.”

The way your face heats up with a dark blush should be criminal. All he did was pat your head, and you’re looking at him starry-eyed like he didn’t grope your thighs under the table. Honestly, all your cute little blubbering had gone straight to his cock. Annie would have to handle his big problem.

These private sessions are going to be fun.

part I ---- complete

[sayosdreams]

Sand and Stardust - Chapter 20

Word Count: 4354

Chapter Index

ACOTAR Masterlist

__________

Warning: Panic Attack

__________

Lucien inhaled sharply. “I’m not your uncle, Khoniya.”

The room was still noisy, filled with patrons drinking and dancing, but their corner of the room was filled with a tense silence. Khoniya’s eyes seemed to be glowing softly as she stared at Lucien. 

“Yes, you are,” she replied, her voice quiet but resolute.

Lucien shook his head. “I don’t deserve that title.” 

“Yes, you do. What happened was awful and tragic, but it wasn’t your fault.”

His face made a pained expression. “Except, it was my fault.”

“No. She knew the consequences and dangers that came with being with you, but she chose you anyway. You did your best to keep her safe and make her happy, and most importantly, you loved her. So no, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Khoniya, you can’t deny that she wouldn’t have died if it weren’t for me,” he replied, his voice tired. 

Khoniya tilted her head. “No, but she chose to live a full life filled with love and joy despite the dangers instead of a long, safer, monotonous one. To say that you’re to blame is to discount her choices. She chose love over safety. She knew what she was doing, and I think that she’d do it all again even if she knew what would happen.”

“I thought…” Lucien cleared his throat. “I thought you would hate me. I thought your family would want me dead for what I d— I mean, for what happened.” 

She sighed. “I don’t know what they think. Some of them probably blame you, but that’s because they need someone to blame. It’s tough to blame the High Lord when you have to keep supporting him or risk your own life. 

“Others probably don’t want to see you, because they try to block out the memory of what happened. But I could never hate you, Uncle Lucien. Not when I understand how Aunt Jesminda felt.”

At Lucien’s puzzled glance, Khoniya rushed to explain, “I have a husband who is High Fae. Being with him comes with risks — I had to give up a lot and it comes with its own problems — but I wouldn’t give it up for the world.”

“You’re married?” His voice was awed, as if he couldn’t believe it. 

“I am.” Khoniya smiled, true joy entering her expression. “I think you’d like him. Would you like to come over some time? I’m sure my son would love to meet you, too.” 

Lucien’s eyes widened, and Khoniya quickly backtracked. “I mean, I know you’re probably only here for a short time, and you probably have duties — I’m sure you’re busy so I understand if you can’t come.”

“I’d love to come over, if that’s okay with you,” Lucien said softly. Then, he grinned. “Wow, little Khoniya has a son, huh? Look at you, all grown up.” 

Khoniya laughed, and Lucien joined in. 

Nesta blinked at the scene. She had never seen Lucien look so delighted. Granted, she hadn’t spent much time around the male, but she had a feeling this could be the start of something special for both him and Khoniya.

“I’m sorry, what the hell is going on?” Rhysand interrupted. “How do you two know each other?”

Nesta wanted to punch him for interrupting the moment. She barely managed to contain the urge but settled for glaring at him. 

Lucien’s face fell as Rhysand’s voice reminded him of where he was. 

“I was… close with Khoniya’s aunt, Jesminda,” he said, his voice flat, so different from the lively tone he’d had moments earlier. 

Rhysand raised an eyebrow and hummed in understanding, taking another sip of his drink. Nesta fisted her hands as she watched his bored expression. Nesta herself barely knew Lucien, but even she could tell this was likely a difficult topic for him. Hadn’t Lucien agreed to some role working for Rhysand? Surely, Rhysand should at least pretend to give a shit about him. 

Khoniya glanced around the room for a moment before making eye contact with Nesta. Her eyes asked if Nesta could handle the situation — stand up and protect Saibh, Riona, and Cian if necessary. Nesta felt the weight of responsibility fall onto her shoulders as she nodded; however, instead of feeling like a burden, Nesta felt honored to have been entrusted with it.

Once, the people around Nesta — those who claimed to love her — had only ever seen her as a problem to be solved, a viper with fangs too sharp who had to be caged and put away for the safety of all. She would never have been allowed near any vulnerable person, let alone been tasked with defending them. 

As Nesta rolled her shoulders, ready to fight til her last breath for her friends, she felt her heart warm. Yes, her family loved her, but they didn’t like her. They loved her because they had to, because they couldn’t help it, but not because they wanted to. How nice it was to be liked, to be trusted, to be wanted! How nice it was for those you love to believe in you — for them to believe you could be good! For them to think that you could be the hero of some story instead of the villain. 

Khoniya shot Nesta a small smile, full of gratitude, before turning back to Lucien and asking,  “Would you mind if we continued this conversation outside?” 

Lucien, who was undoubtedly eager to get away from the crushing gazes of those who pretended to enjoy his company, followed her outside. 

__________

“He came over yesterday, and he met Elian and Yaran,” Khoniya informed Nesta and Brielle as they sat around the table, feasting on the snacks Brielle had made. “By the Mother, it was so amazing — even better than I’d imagined. He got along great with Elian. And I think he loves kids; he was so great with Yaran.”

Nesta smiled at how content Khoniya looked.

“Were you very close to him when you were younger?” Nesta asked. 

Khoniya tilted her head. “Kind of. It was… Well, he was very kind to me and the rest of my family. Some of my family disapproved of his relationship with my aunt Jesminda, but they didn’t say anything to his face, of course. But… He would play with me and the other kids a lot. He obviously didn’t want to get caught by his dad or brothers, but I could tell that he loved my aunt so much. As I get older, I think I understand and admire their bravery in staying in their relationship more and more.”

Khoniya fell silent for a moment. “I think, in another life, Uncle Lucien and Aunt Jesminda would have been the best parents. I think they would have wanted that too, if they had been in a world where it was safe for them to have a child together.”

Nesta could admit that she’d never cared enough to imagine Lucien’s past, let alone his dreams or failed hopes. Yet as Nesta rushed over to pick up her crying daughter, she wondered what it must be like for him to have lost not only his lover but the dreams of the life he wanted to build with her. She cradled Adira as her daughter suckled on her breast, and her heart clenched at the thought of this joy slipping through Lucien’s fingers. 

The thought still preoccupied her as she walked home. The streets were teeming with fae of all sorts: high fae, lower fae, males, females, night court and other fae, all intermingling as they passed each other on the streets of Velaris. Nesta was struck with the realization that, like Lucien, all these strangers had full lives with their own problems and dreams. 

It wasn’t that she hadn’t known this before. Of course she had, but only on a logical level. In the moment, Nesta felt the feeling swelling up inside her, churning, spinning her around as she navigated the sea of fae. So many lives, each tumultuous and complex in their own way, moved around her like a powerful current. 

She clutched Adira tighter to her chest. Adira was the rock she clung to as the stormy waters tossed and turned. Adira had been so unexpected, and Nesta had felt so utterly unprepared for her — even now, she constantly worried whether she was a decent mother, let alone a good one — and yet no one had ever brought her so much joy. There was no one Nesta loved in the way she loved Adira. She couldn’t even begin to express how grateful she was to have Adira in her life. 

“Nesta?” 

Perhaps if Nesta had been paying more attention — if she hadn’t been so caught up in her head — she would have detected the scent earlier and managed to switch routes or hide in time. 

“Nesta!” 

Short of running away, which would be very difficult while carrying a baby, there was nothing Nesta could do to avoid the encounter as a familiar face greeted her.

“I haven’t met up with you in a while, and we didn’t get a chance to talk when I saw you at the dance club,” she laughed lightly. 

Nesta stood still, frozen like a statue doomed to watch an explosion occur in slow motion. 

“Anyway, how have you been? You look- Is that a baby?” Elain spluttered, her eyes rounding.

Nesta sighed internally. She’d known it was impossible that her sister wouldn’t notice the child in her arms, but that hadn’t stopped her from hoping for a miracle. Fortunately, Adira’s wings were hidden from sight by the soft lilac jacket Cassian had decided to make her wear over her onesie. There were not many Illyrians in Velaris, and Adira’s parentage would have become obvious to Elain the second she saw the tiny black wings. 

Elain was silent for a few seconds, likely too stunned to speak. Her eyes drifted over Adira’s clothing to her light brown skin, her chubby cheeks, her dark hair that peeked out of her hood, and her long, dark lashes. Nesta could feel her sleeping daughter’s slow breathing against her shoulder and was thankful for the grounding rhythm as she tried to steady her nerves. Nesta wanted to believe that she didn’t care what Elain would say, that it didn’t matter what Elain thought of her having a child and being a mother. The truth, though, was that it did matter to her — far too much. 

“Why are you holding a baby?” Elain’s eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing walking around with a baby? How- Whose baby is it?” 

Nesta blinked. She hadn’t considered that Elain would think that the baby was anyone’s but her own. Perhaps Nesta could simply avoid answering the questions and let Elain assume that Nesta was babysitting. 

Although, what if Elain grew concerned for the baby’s safety and wanted to escort the baby home? Perhaps she could pretend like the baby was Khoniya’s — surely Khoniya wouldn’t object to playing along for a few moments. Nesta would just need to find a way to communicate the situation to her. Perhaps Nesta could make a comment implying the situation to her subtly, without Elain realizing. 

A small sound diverted Nesta’s thoughts. Adira made another squeaking cry and squirmed. Nesta quickly moved to caress her, gently soothing her while slightly rocking her in the way Adira always seemed to enjoy. Adira let out a tiny, content noise and settled down once more in Nesta’s grip. She yawned, her tiny mouth somehow expanding more and more as the rest of her face scrunched up. Nesta rubbed circles into her back, careful to avoid her folded wings. 

She turned her focus back to her sister, who had started talking again. “How long have you been taking care of her — is it a her? Or a him? Is the b-” Elain cut herself off with a gasp. 

Nesta followed Elain’s shocked gaze, to find Adira blinking her big blue-grey eyes. Eyes that were almost identical to Nesta’s. 

Elain’s hand flew to her mouth. She stared. Her unblinking gaze remained on Adira’s face for several beats while Nesta grew more and more nervous. 

Nesta had never been one to hate silence. When she’d had to share a bed with her sisters, she had relished any moment of silence and personal time she could get. Those moments had been like gasps of fresh air that she’d needed as she struggled not to get overwhelmed by the constant noise and company. Now, though, the silence shredded Nesta’s nerves just as the noise once had. She felt like a rope pulled so tight she’d snap unless Elain broke the silence and released her. 

Finally, Elain looked at Nesta again. “You have a baby,” she said, her tone unreadable. 

Nesta gave a small nod, unsure how she was supposed to reply. Did Elain think Nesta was unfit to be a mother? Was she mad that Nesta hadn’t told her about her pregnancy? Was she ashamed that Nesta had a child without getting married — or mated — first?

Elain’s face, which was usually bright and adorned with an ever-present kind smile, was blank. Nesta had always been able to easily read Elain’s emotions, and she felt a twinge of annoyance that she couldn’t do so now. 

“Is it a girl?” Elain’s voice was strange, too. It wasn’t coated with that usual softness, but it was also different from the vacant voice she’d used when they’d first arrived in Velaris. 

Nesta nodded again. 

Elain tilted her head slightly to the left. Her cheeks were just as round as they’d always been, giving her face a much softer silhouette than Feyre’s or Nesta’s. Elain, who’d been a later bloomer than her sisters in all physical aspects, had often wondered if her cheeks were merely remnants of her baby fat that would disappear in her mid-twenties. 

Nesta realized, eerily, that they would never find out. They were all trapped in time now, and their unaging bodies would become relics of a long-gone young adulthood even as their age increased. They would never develop the wrinkles their mother had worried about so much or the gray hairs their grandmother had despised. They would be the same — forever. 

And yet, they would change. Nesta had already changed so much since she’d first gotten this body. She’d been depressed, an alcoholic, had sex, made friends, started working, become a mother, and so much more. She was no longer the same person she had been when she’d come out of the Cauldron. 

As Elain’s unreadable eyes stared at her, she wondered if the same could be said of Elain. Perhaps Elain, too, had changed while Nesta hadn’t been watching; perhaps the person standing before her was someone new that Nesta did not understand fully in the ways she had understood her little sister. 

Elain’s lips opened slightly, closed, and then opened once more. “What’s her name?”

Nesta answered, “Adira.” The corners of her lips curled up, as they always did when she uttered her daughter’s name. She could read all the books in the world and learn every language, but her daughter’s name would always be her most treasured word. 

Elain turned her eyes towards the baby and repeated, “Adira.” 

Her lips finally turned into a smile, and Nesta felt relieved she could read her sister’s expression once more. Yet, as Elain looked up, Nesta realized that Elain’s smile was not simply one of joy — it was tinged with something else, something she couldn’t entirely untangle. Was that —  longing? Regret? Love? Respect? 

She gave Nesta a warm but firm nod, a gesture that was so un-Elain-like that it was all Nesta could do to school her own expression.

“Well,” Elain said, tucking a loose face-framing strand of hair behind her ear, “I hope I can see you both again sometime soon.” 

She smiled, her light brown eyes almost appearing to glow in the light. Then, she stepped back into the bustling crowd on the street. 

It took several moments for Nesta’s shock to subside; long enough to realize she’d yet to ask Elain not to reveal her daughter’s existence to anyone else. She opened her mouth to speak, but Elain had already disappeared into the crowd — just as she always had. 

__________

“Hey, Nesta! I’m home! I brought back some sweets with me, since the bakery was having a special— ” Cassian paused, the door swinging shut behind him. “What’s wrong?”

The shift in his tone, from joyful and bubbly to dark and worried, was so dramatic that at any other time Nesta surely would have raised an eyebrow or made some type of quip about his range. 

Now, however, she could only stare at him, willing her tongue to form words that her mind couldn’t generate. 

“Are you hurt? Is Adira— where’s Adira?” he asked, his voice getting louder and more concerned with every word. 

Nesta had enough clarity to glance towards their room. Cassian rushed in, his body so tense that it seemed like it could break. Nesta didn’t know if he returned in seconds, minutes, or hours, as understanding time seemed to have moved beyond her capacities. When he did return, presumably having checked on Adira, he seemed calmer and quieter. 

He sat down beside her on the sofa. Nesta noted the heat he seemed to radiate, even as he left a hand-sized space between their knees. 

“Did something happen?” Cassian asked, his voice so soft — so kind and supportive — that Nesta wanted to cry. 

She opened her mouth, but the words would not come. How could she explain how badly she’d fucked everything up? How she’d frozen in front of her little sister and how their encounter had been so strange that she could barely process it? 

“Nesta?” he prompted, reaching out a hand to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. 

She looked up at him, and their eyes met. His hazel eyes were full of concern and affection for her. It cracked the dam inside her, and her words spilled out, jumbled and raw.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that— I didn’t think she would—” Her eyes were round, her expression pleading him to understand that she hadn’t meant it. She hadn’t wanted to reveal their secret to Elain. She hadn’t planned to ruin everything. 

“It’s okay,” Cassian said.

Only, it wasn’t. He had no idea what she’d done. How she had made him swear not to tell his family, despite knowing how hard it would be for him, only to mess it all up. He’d surely hate her and rightfully so. 

“Nesta, I need you to take a deep breath, okay?” 

She felt the weight of Cassian’s hand on her shoulder, grounding her. Following his lead, she took a deep breath in, then out. And another. And another. 

The room felt larger, as if the walls that had previously been closing in around her had decided to let go. 

“Now,” Cassian said, his voice quiet but serious, “can you tell me what happened?” 

“I’m sorry,” Nesta whispered. “I didn’t mean to—” 

She blinked a few times and cleared her throat before summarizing the encounter with Elain. 

“She left before I could tell her not to tell the others,” she finished. 

Cassian listened intently, his face impassive throughout her tale. She had no idea what he was thinking, and if her mother and grandmother hadn’t drilled her manners into her since she learned to walk, she would have been picking at her sleeves anxiously. 

“Everyone’s going to know now,” she continued, voicing her worries. “And you didn’t even get to tell them. I mean, they might not know that it’s- that we have a child together but, still. I know they’re your family and I didn’t let you tell them before, even though you wanted to. And now I messed it all up, and ruined everything and they’re going to hate me even more and I took this away from you, too, even though it’s so important to you.” Her breathing quickened and her speech became increasingly fragmented as her thoughts raced ahead of her. “It was supposed to be— They were supposed to know when we were both ready and you could— You would have— I mean, they would have loved Adira even though I’m her— I just. I’m so sorry. I honestly didn’t mean to ruin this for you or for her, and—”

“Nes, listen to me. You didn’t ruin anything. Okay?” His tone was firm, and his eyes had turned into pools of resolute emotion. 

She dropped her gaze to the floor. She couldn’t lie to him and just nod along. She had ruined it: this precious peace, this happiness, this life they’d started building together was going to get wrecked because of her carelessness. 

The gentle caress of rough fingertips against her jawline pulled her out of her spiraling thoughts and made her glance up. 

“You didn’t ruin anything, Nesta,” he repeated. His words were calm and confident, as though he truly believed them and needed her to believe too. “I know that this isn’t what we’d planned. I wish this decision hadn’t been taken from us and that we’d been able to talk about it and make a choice that would work best for us, but it’s not your fault. Okay? I know you didn’t want any of this. Sometimes, things just happen. Honestly, it’s only through luck that we’ve been able to avoid this happening so far.”

“I suppose,” she mumbled in reply, her thoughts and emotions still turbulent.

“I need you to understand that you didn’t take anything away from me, and you didn’t make me do anything.”

She frowned. “But I—”

“No,” he interrupted. “You asked, yes, but I chose this. I chose this because that was what was best for Adira and for us — for our family. I suppose we have to decide now how to deal with them knowing at least part of the situation, but no matter what we decide, how they react is up to them.” His jaw tightened slightly. “I really do hope they love Adira, but I need you to know that I’m not going to let them act like her being your daughter is a drawback. I mean, they aren’t going to love her ‘even though’ you’re her mother. They’re going to love that part of her along with everything else. The Inner Circle may have been my family in a lot of ways, but I’m not going to let them treat either of you with any less respect than you deserve.”

His thumb moved infinitesimally, grasping her face slightly more firmly. “And you deserve the world,” Cassian said. “I’m not going to let them insult you, and I’m definitely not going to let them try to teach our daughter to dislike you. If they can’t love every part of Adira, if they can’t respect you, if they can’t love our family and treat us the way they should, then they aren’t going to get to be a part of our lives.” 

“But Cass, what if they don’t like— because, I mean, they might think that I—”

He tilted his face down, pressing his forehead to hers. 

“I don’t care,” he whispered. “It doesn’t matter why. You come first. We come first.”

She couldn’t look away from the intensity in his expression. 

“You should tell them,” she answered, her voice mirroring his in volume and tone. “If they bring her up, or if they seem to know about her, you can tell them that she’s yours.”

“Are you sure?” The twin sparks of genuine concern and joy in his eyes made her heart clench. 

“If you want to, you can,” she answered. She savored the smile that spread across his face through the upturn of his lips, the crinkled corners of his eyes, and the movement of his cheeks. 

“Okay.” His free hand came up to brush her hair back. “I was thinking that we could invite them to talk about everything, if you’re okay with that? We don’t need to talk to everyone at the same time. Maybe we could just start with your sisters?”

Nesta swallowed, trying her best not to get lost in his eyes. “Yes,” she replied, her voice a touch too breathless. “We can talk to them about it sometime. Let’s just tell all of them and get it over with.” 

“Yeah?” Cassian seemed to search her face to ensure that she was truly comfortable with it. 

She felt herself melt even more at the raw, caring expression he wore. He wore his emotions openly for her to see — a feat that wasn’t as easy for him as others might believe. He had been trained as a warrior: rough, fearless, angry, and always battle-ready. He’d trained himself to be a bright light: always happy, carefree, funny and smiling. While the masks Nesta wore were very different, she knew just how difficult it was for him to shed them. 

Showing his emotions — not his humor or joy, not his anger or strength, but his true hopes and fears and depths of his affection — left him vulnerable, and he had thus adapted to conceal them to ensure his survival. He was letting his guard down for her, purposefully breaking down centuries-old walls to let her in. This male — this complicated, intense, caring, beautiful male — made her heart overflow with a feeling she couldn’t quite name. 

“Yeah,” she replied. 

Then, they were kissing. She didn’t know which of them had moved or how the tiny distance between them had disappeared. All she cared about was how perfectly they fit together. It felt so right to be cradled in his arms and pressed against his lips — like a homecoming, except she hadn’t ever known that home could be this caring, this unconditional, this sweet. As she tasted him again and again, lost in the pleasure of how his lips felt against hers, her thoughts disappeared, save for one realization. The word she had been searching for earlier came to mind, enveloping her with a force she hadn’t anticipated.

Oh. 

It was love. 

__________

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[myherowritings]

Hey There, Roomie

— After being set up on a bad date with Ushijima, he insists on walking you to your doorstep. Not wanting him to know where you live, you lead him to Iwaizumi’s apartment and pretend Iwaizumi is your roommate. 

pairing: iwaizumi hajime x reader word count: 4.0k genre: college/university au, fluff warnings: mentions of drinking, language, secondhand embarrassment, suggestive comments at the end, oikawa is meddlesome, awkward but cute confessions™!!

a/n: ur bad date is with ushiwaka ok i’m sorry he’s a nice guy but i had to make it someone HDJSJS,, also this is based on real life events except my friend who lived in an apartment near me isn’t cute like iwa-chan :( LMAOOO i hope u enjoy reading!!! xx sof

「 hq masterlist 」

“I assure you, you don’t have to walk me to my apartment.”

“It’s not a bother. I insist.” 

“No, it’s fine.” Although you tried to keep a smile on your face, you were certain it looked more like you were baring your teeth at him. “Really. You don’t have to do that.”

Ushijima shrugged. “I told you, it’s no big deal.” 

Your grin turned into a grimace as you stepped outside the car and headed towards your apartment complex. You managed to grit out, “Great. Thanks.”

A friend from your class had told you they had a friend of a friend who saw an Instagram post of you and thought you were cute. After they showed you a picture of him, you said the same. Little did you know it would lead to a mess of a date set up by said friend. 

The date was at a karaage chicken place and it was filled with the most uncomfortable silences you had sat through since office hours with a professor who you were sure hated you. Ushijima was nice enough and it wasn’t the worst date ever, but the two of you just did not click. You figured it was partly your fault for agreeing to meet with him despite not having a single clue about his interests and never having talked to him once, but it was too late to undo it now. 

He was a gentleman, at least. Offered to pay, held your seat out for you, drove you to your apartment complex, and, now, was trying to walk you to your doorstep. 

The thing was, you did not want him to know where you lived. 

You didn’t get red flags or feel threatened by any means, but having a guy you went on one uncomfortable date with know your exact address wasn’t really something that sat well with you. You’ve heard enough college horror stories to be wary. But, you didn’t have the heart to tell him explicitly not to walk you home… So the only solution? 

Head to your friend’s apartment in the same complex instead.

“Do you know where you’re going?” asked Ushijima, examining you as your eyes darted around from building to building. 

You’d been to Iwaizumi’s apartment before, but that didn’t stop you from looking lost and confused in this maze of houses. And it didn’t help to have Ushijima’s semi-condescending gaze on you the whole time. The worst part was, you were almost certain he didn’t even mean to be condescending— He just was. To you, at least. It definitely rubbed you the wrong way during the date. 

“Yeah,” you laughed, walking past your apartment, “of course I know where my own apartment is.” 

Iwaizumi’s place was just a few buildings north of yours, which you were quick to remember after catching sight of your place. You briefly wondered if he would be home on a Friday night, but quickly decided it wasn’t important. It’s not like you would be entering his house anyway. In fact, if all went well, he might never even know you were outside his apartment to begin with. 

The plan was to have Ushijima drop you off at the doorstep (since he so unwaveringly insisted that he had to and it was no trouble for him to do so), tell him goodbye, fumble with your bag to “look for your keys” as he walked off, then—when he was out of sight—dash to your apartment and lock yourself in your bedroom for the remainder of the night. 

A foolproof plan. 

“Well, we’re here!” you chirped, standing outside Iwaizumi’s door labeled 237E. You whirled around to face Ushijima. “Thanks for walking me. See you around!” 

“Of course.” He nodded but made no move to leave. 

Your smile wavered. Was he waiting for you to enter your house safely? If he didn’t seem so innocent, it would’ve been incredibly creepy. 

“Err,” you drawled, ruffling through your bag. “I’m just finding my keys. You can leave now; I don’t want to keep you any longer!” 

“It’s not a problem.”

Your right eye twitched. What did he think could possibly happen in the time it took you to unlock your door and enter? While it was sweet—in a very suffocating way—it wasn’t what you wanted. After the bad date that was disappointing for the both of you, you expected him to eat his food and dip. Not see you all the way into your house despite the fact that, deep down, he’d much rather be in his own home. It was domineeringly kind.

Didn’t he understand how stressful this could be for someone? His obliviousness was overbearing, but you supposed you couldn’t blame Ushijima when you didn’t verbalize your discomfort to him. 

“Everything okay?” he asked for what felt like the fifth time that night. 

You chuckled nervously. “I guess I…can’t find my keys?” Looking at him sheepishly, you scratched the back of your head. “But, my roommates will probably be home soon! Or, they might be here now. I’ll just ring the doorbell when you leave!” 

Ushijima blinked. “Why not ring the doorbell now?” 

“R-Right,” you stammered, unsure whether you wanted to rip your hair out or cry in frustration. Maybe both would be good. “That’s smart. I can do that.” 

He looked at you expectantly. 

You winced, bringing your pointer finger to the white button of the doorbell. Before you even had the time to gather the courage to press it, the door swung open suddenly, startling you enough to let out a small yelp.

“Ah—! Iwaizumi!” you cried, eyes wide as you stared face to face with your very confused-looking friend. He glanced between you and Ushijima with a questioning expression, but you rambled on before he could say anything. “Hey there, roomie!” You batted your lashes, pleading with him to play along. “I forgot my keys again.” 

Iwaizumi’s face displayed a look of pure confusion and you were certain he must never have gotten any acting awards when he was younger. His expression became even more puzzled when you wiggled your way inside the door, standing snugly next to his side. 

After an awkward silence, you continued again, “Well, thanks for walking me Ushijima-san! And thank you for the date. Maybe I’ll see you around.” 

If he noticed anything suspicious going on, he didn’t show it. Instead he simply nodded and wished you a goodnight. 

Yup, there was definitely no chance of Ushijima wanting to ask you out on a second date. Not that you were complaining. 

You shut the door—the door to an apartment that wasn’t even your own, mind you—and let out a sigh of relief. With your eyes closed and your back resting against the wall, you momentarily forgot you were standing in the entrance of Iwaizumi’s living room. That was, until you started feeling his heavy gaze on you. 

Gulping at the intensity, you cracked your right eye open ever so slightly. “Yes?” you asked innocently.

“Yes?” repeated Iwaizumi incredulously, voice raised in exasperation. “You want to explain what just happened here?” 

You had a sudden interest in your shoes as you shuffled in place. Iwaizumi was your friend and someone you considered yourself semi-close to— Comfortable enough to hang out with regularly and talk with almost every day, but not someone that you confided in with no qualms. And definitely not someone close enough for it to be normal to show up at his place unannounced. You were much closer to his best friend, Oikawa, but that was largely due to him finding out you had a big crush on Iwaizumi a number of months ago and feeling the need to tease you endlessly. Apparently, nothing brought people together like relentless goading. 

“Another bad date,” you answered with a noncommittal tone. “A friend set me up with that guy you saw, Ushijima, and the date was so awkward.” 

He folded his arms across his chest, pulling his white t-shirt snug around his biceps. You tried not to let your eyes bug out of their sockets at the sight. “And yet you let him bring you home?” 

“I couldn’t say no! I tried dropping hints but he just didn’t get it.” You looked up, a sheepish half-smile on your face. “But I was smart enough not to bring him to my apartment. Hence why I came here. Roomie.”

Iwaizumi let out an exasperated half-chuckle, half-sigh as he motioned for you to come further inside. You slipped off your shoes at the doorway and followed him into the living room, taking a seat on the couch next to him. He rested his arm against the headrest of the sofa and you were consciously aware of his hand mere inches behind your head. 

“Are your other housemates here?” you asked, curious as to why there wasn’t the usual amount of chatter and rage gaming from inside their respective rooms. 

He shook his head. “They’re all back at their hometowns for the weekend.” 

“And poor Iwa-chan is home all alone on a Friday night instead of out partying with friends?” you teased, reaching over to pat the top of his head mockingly. 

Glaring at you for the nickname, he lightly swatted your hand away. “You’ve been spending too much time with Oikawa. His shittyness is rubbing off on you.” There was the slightest hint of amusement in his voice to let you know he was only joking. “And being home alone is better than being stuck with a bad date.”

“Ouch,” you cried, crossing one leg over the other and sticking your tongue out at him. “Yeah, sure, I would rather have been curled up in my bed than go on that date— But you didn’t have to call me out like that.” You pouted. “At least I got free food, I guess.” 

He rolled his eyes with a snort. “If you were uncomfortable, you could’ve called me to come pick you up.”

Despite his gruff voice, there was a look of concern on his face. His eyebrows were furrowed and the corners of his mouth were downturned. Iwaizumi’s offer made you feel warm in the stomach, even if you were sure he was just saying it out of courtesy.

“Or better yet,” he continued in a murmur, “don’t let your friends set you up on dates with guys you barely know, dumbass.” 

“Hey! Aren’t you and Oikawa the ones always telling me I need to go out and date more in the first place?” you said, huffing at his insult. 

They told you your college years were your prime dating years and you might regret not going out with a variety of people now. When else would you have the free time and the patience to date, anyway? That was part of the reason you agreed to blind dates and set ups, after all. If Iwaizumi was insisting you date around, that most certainly meant he didn’t reciprocate your feelings for him. Meaning, you had to get over him somehow before the hurt could kick in, even if that somehow included less than ideal fraternization. 

“I never said that,” he grumbled, shaking his head. “Why would I tell you to go on dates with other people? It was just Oikawa who said you should.” 

You blinked in confusion. “But you were there and you nodded in agreement.” 

He shifted his body to get a better look at you, a scowl on his face. “I did not. You were drunk and you probably thought my head was moving when it wasn’t.”

“Well, you were drunk too! Maybe your head was moving and you just didn’t know.” The lines between his forehead deepened and you laughed, unable to stop yourself from tapping the wrinkles with your ring finger. “Don’t think too hard; you might hurt your brain.”

“You really have been spending too much time with Shittykawa,” he said with a defeated sigh. “But whatever you think I said back then, it’s probably not what I meant. You shouldn’t date anyone unless you want to.” 

The thing was, you did want to date someone. Iwaizumi. You were just under the impression he didn’t want to date you. 

You shrugged. “What about you? Have you been dating people you don’t want to?” 

He shook his head. “No. I haven’t dated anyone recently,” he admitted, averting his gaze from you for the first time that night. “I actually...am interested in someone, though.” 

Your stomach dropped. Oh.

“But I don’t think they like me.” 

Trying not to show him the crestfallen expression on your face, you looked down at your lap. You had been mentally preparing yourself to accept that Iwaizumi didn’t have a crush on you like you had on him—you were ready to face the harsh reality—but you were not expecting him to tell you he liked someone else on top of that. That was just a double blow to your gut.

You forced out a laugh, hoping it didn’t sound too strained. “That’s silly. Of course they like you.” 

“I didn’t even tell you who it was.”

“Don’t need to,” you said diffidently, fingers toying with a loose thread on the blue sofa. “I already know. There’s no way someone wouldn’t like you back.”

Iwaizumi snorted disdainfully. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that. Them going on dates with other people and telling me about them after seems to be a solid indicator that they don’t.”

You froze, letting go of the string you accidentally pulled from the couch. Now, you wouldn’t say you were an overly optimistic person, but you still couldn’t help but think the situation he described was oddly familiar to yours. There was a large chance he was referring to someone else, but with the way you felt his smoldering gaze on your body, you wondered if maybe, just maybe, he could be talking about you. 

“Maybe they think you don’t like them so they’re going on those dates to get rid of their crush on you— But only because they thought you told them to do so! And, honestly, the dates probably aren’t helping at all on getting rid of the crush; it just makes it get even bigger and bigger as they realize they can’t like anyone the same way they like you and now they don’t know what to do,” you babbled, unable to stop the word vomit.

After processing the words that you had just uttered, you slapped your hands over your mouth to shut yourself up. That was a little more than you had originally wanted to say… Okay, a lot more. You winced. You wanted to subtly hint that you were talking about yourself, not be so obvious as to yell it out with a megaphone and have a blinking billboard pointing your way. 

Idiot, idiot, idiot.

You could only hope Iwaizumi was oblivious enough to let this whole thing go and assume that you were only speaking hypothetically. But he was smarter than that. You knew it. He may be a little dense when it came to romance, but even he couldn’t be dumb enough to misunderstand your conspicuous slip up. 

Your stomach churned as you awaited his response.

“So,” he spoke slowly, keeping his cautious regard on you, “Oikawa was right?” 

You blinked. That wasn’t the response you were expecting. But things just didn’t seem to go as planned today, you supposed. “What do you mean?”

“You do like me, then?”

“W-What? When did…” You gaped, trailing off as your throat tightened. “He told you that?” 

“A month ago, he told me he thought you might like me,” Iwaizumi admitted, a rosy red darkening the apples of his cheeks. “But that was before you started going on those crazy dates, so I figured he was wrong.” 

A cry of indignation escaped your lips as you heard the news. “Seriously?”

He nodded.

“No way!” you sputtered in disbelief. “He found out I liked you months ago— At the beginning of the school year! And then last month, Oikawa told me I should to get over you by going on a bunch of dates.” 

Your brows were furrowed and arms folded as you glared into the sky, wishing Oikawa were there so you could yell at him for making a fool of you. Iwaizumi caught your gaze with a disgruntled look of his own. 

“What on earth?” you groaned, burying your face in your palms.

“I’ll kick his ass the next time I see him,” Iwaizumi vowed.

“Please,” you muttered, a thousand thoughts racing through your mind. 

Oikawa knew you had a crush on Iwaizumi. Why would he tell him behind your back? And was Iwaizumi’s response negative? Is that why Oikawa told you to date to get over him? Trying to understand Oikawa’s thought process was enough to almost give you a headache. 

“But, wait,” said Iwaizumi quietly, effectively interrupting your train of thoughts. “Months?” 

You peeked at him through the cracks between your fingers. “Huh?”

“You said you liked me for months now? Since the start of this school year?” 

The heat rose to your cheeks in embarrassment. “T-That’s not the point—!” 

“Because I’ve liked you for a few months now too,” he interrupted before you could deny anything. Your eyes shot open as you stared straight at Iwaizumi, just now noticing the serious expression on his face. 

Was this a confession?

“Ever since that night we ditched our friends to stay inside and watch Godzilla instead of going to the party.” He shared a small, slightly sheepish smile with you as he recalled the memory. 

In the beginning of the year before classes had started but everyone had already moved into their respective apartments, Oikawa decided everyday of the week leading up to the first day of school would be a good day to get shit-faced drunk. It was fun for the first three days, but by day four you were getting worn out, and by day five, just the thought of consuming one more jello shot made you shudder. 

So when Iwaizumi—who you had then only recently realized you had a crush on—suggested you two sneak away to his empty apartment and watch some movies instead, you were more than happy to oblige. 

“I thought you looked...cute that night,” Iwaizumi managed, his voice gruff and tentative. “It was funny how you were scared by the movies even though it was hardly even horror.” He snorted at the recollection, hints of a grin playing on his face. “And I may have realized then that I had already started liking you.”

You bit the inside of your lip to keep your face from splitting into a beam. Your eyes were wide open, almost as if you were in a daze and were only dreaming the events of this night had happened. Iwaizumi shoved his hands in his sweatpants’ pockets, ducking his head to hide his delight at this situation.

“You like me too?” you asked breathlessly. There was still a tone of disbelief in your voice. 

He nodded. “Have for a while now. But I didn’t tell Oikawa about it until last month. And that’s when he said he thought you liked me back.” 

At his words, you visibly relaxed. So Oikawa didn’t blab about your crush on his best friend— Though, in all honesty, maybe if he had, you could’ve had a relationship with him sooner. You leaned your head back against the headrest of the couch with a sigh. “Then if he knew you liked me, why did he tell me to date other people that night we were all out drinking together?” 

“To piss me the fuck off.”

You laughed in surprise, not expecting Iwaizumi to sound so furious. 

“He probably wanted to get me to disagree with him, that dumbass,” he hissed, a scowl forming on his face. Even with his nose scrunched and forehead crinkled, you thought Iwaizumi was as handsome as ever.

“Maybe Oikawa thought you wouldn’t confess without his help so he wanted to push your buttons and make you jealous by seeing me date other people,” you said, chuckling at the audacity of this situation. 

Iwaizumi apparently didn’t share your amusement, since his scowl deepened. “I would’ve confessed without his unwanted help,” he grunted. But you knew he wasn’t too annoyed by his best friend. Oikawa never had any ill-intentions towards the two of you, and you both were aware of that. “I was a little jealous, though,” he admitted with flushed cheeks. “And I may have gotten a bit happier every time you told me afterwards that you didn’t like your date—especially tonight.”

You smiled shyly at him, only mildly embarrassed by the routine you two had picked up. Go on a date (usually prompted by Oikawa), wish your date was Iwaizumi the whole time, go home, message Iwaizumi about your bad date, repeat. But in today’s case, you went to him in person instead of texting. 

“But I was dreading that one night you’d message saying your date went well,” he said, hands balled up into fists and gaze downcast. “Or worse— Not message that night at all.”

Your expression turned somber as you realized that while you were casually dating around to try to get over Iwaizumi, he was there watching you go out with other people. A feeling of guilt spread through you as you bowed your head slightly, wishing you had taken the chance to tell him your feelings instead of trying to toss them aside. 

“Iwaizumi, I’m so sorry,” you said. “I didn’t even think about how it could be affecting you.” 

“Hey, it’s okay.” He placed his closed hand on the top of your head, making you look up at him. He nodded once. “You didn’t know. And Assikawa was the one pushing you to go on dates you didn’t want,” he said wryly, though his tone was more amused than bitter. “But maybe now you don’t have to keep going on those bad dates anymore.” 

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. Was he offering—?

“Y’know,” he said, “if you… If we…”

“Went on a date?” you completed, hesitant but hopeful. “With each other, I mean.”

“Yes. With each other.” He held his breath. “What do you think?”

After a beat of silence, your face split into a grin. You practically jumped off the couch in excitement, bouncing towards Iwaizumi to tackle him into a hug. He let out a surprised grunt, but caught you in his arms nonetheless.  

“I think you could’ve saved me loads of wasted nights if you had asked a month earlier!” you laughed, burrowing your face into his chest— His very strong, very muscular chest that had no business being this comfortable. “To think all this time I could’ve been going on dates with you instead of random people I end up blocking a day after?”

His right hand rested between your shoulder blades while his left was lightly cupping the back of your head. He chuckled and you felt the vibrations through his thin t-shirt. 

“We’ll have plenty of time to make up for it now,” he said, voice warm and inviting. “We can catch up on dates this whole weekend. Or just rewatch all of Godzilla again.” 

“That sounds like the perfect date weekend.” The grin on your face never left as you stayed tangled in his arms. “And your roommates aren’t back until Monday, hmm?”

He titled his head down at you to see your expression, the corner of his mouth quirked upward as he smirked. “Yup. They’ll be gone all weekend.”

You two exchanged knowing looks, causing you to wiggle your eyebrows suggestively and make him laugh. His ears turned red and when you pointed it out he got even redder. You smiled at each other as you held him even tighter. 

It didn’t matter what you two would be doing this weekend. All you cared about was getting to spend more time with Iwaizumi.

“Then we most definitely have a lot of catching up to do.” 

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

in too deep: side story [one]

He hadn’t been able to sleep well.  But if Sebastian was truly honest with himself...he’d found it hard to sleep in his old home.  Even surrounded by the Scions, even with Riven and the others at his back, his nights in the city were oftentimes restless. 

Fortunately, either Augustine, Mathye, or Reinhardt were always good for being early-morning workout partners.  It was a rule of thumb to leave Riven asleep in stressful situations--a habit that had started from their time on the First.  And on this particular morning, Augustine had already been up.

Logistikon Beta was always fairly deserted--though Sharlayan being Sharlyan, Sebastian had no doubts that there was surveillance.  But it was quiet enough to meet the group’s needs--a wide open space to spar, and no looky-loos. 

So the pair had made their way down to Labyrinthos to fight.

The sun had risen when Augustine pulled away, rolling his shoulders.

“Feel better?”  He offered.  Sebastian had come a long way from his days as a new Scion--and from being a recent arrival from Sharlayan.  Augustine had no doubt if his blood-brother was put against the best the city-state had to offer, Sebastian would best every single fighter. 

“Much, aye.”  Sebastian exhaled.  Setting down his gunblade, he picked up a towel. 

“Are you still upset over your ex?”  Augustine winced as Sebastian deadpanned at him--he was getting entirely too good at that.  Too much time around Mathye.

“I have a hard time believing he just tripped and fell off the dock.”

“He did.”  That was the story and Augustine would be sticking to it.  Sebastian narrowed his eyes, but let the matter drop.  He didn’t want to think about Lacelle--or Lacelle reaching out--at the moment.

“I just...feel uneasy with all of this.”  He admitted.  “Riven...this idea of finding out what Sevestre is up to is a good one.  And I agree--everything that happened during that time has to be because of DeGlass.”  Sebastian was kicking himself internally for not paying more attention to politics when he had been in the city. 

“It...I don’t know.  Something feels off kilter someplace. And...”  The gunbreaker sighed, looking down at the towel in his hands. 

“This is all my fault in the first place.  If I hadn’t gone poking around...”

“No.”  Augustine shook his head vehemently.  “Your ‘poking around’ is probably what gave us warning about all this.  It’s just a matter of putting puzzle pieces together.”  The paladin exhaled. 

“The problem is there’s so damn many.  It’s a shame we can’t go right to the source of it all.”  Sebastian froze, Augustine’s words hitting him like a levin bolt.

“...Why not?”  Augustine was in the process of picking up his own towel, and he blinked at the gunbreaker.

“Huh?”

“Why can’t we get to the heart of the matter?”  Sebastian repeated.  “Riven’s got--well, the goal is to get into Sevestre’s home...so why can’t we add to that?  Do the same for DeGlass?”  Augustine stared at Sebastian.

“You want to break into her house as well?  Could we even pull that off?”  He asked.  “I mean, Thancred would probably relish the challenge, but ever since we came here, she’s been locked up in that manor.  Nobody’s even seen the housekeeper!”  Sebastian made to speak, but the ringing of his linkpearl made him pause.  Augustine’s own had triggered as well.

Sebastian?  Augustine?

“Thancred?”

Where are you two?  There’s been a development.  Thancred’s voice was grim.

“What’s wrong?”  Augustine asked.

It seems until recently, Riven’s stepmother was still alive.

[argentconflagration]

Wishlist!

My surgery is the 19th (a week from tomorrow)! I don't expect anything from anyone, but I definitely would be really happy to get well-wishes on my recovery! And for anyone who wants to get me something, I have put together this wishlist for your convenience. I will reiterate again that I am not expecting anything from anyone! That said, the remainder of this post will be incredibly self-indulgent on my part. You have been warned.

Physical things:

A puzzle. Preferably pretty! You know the things I like: bright colors, math, cats, space, red, plants, etc.

Earphones, if you can find the kind that aren't the little buds in the ear that for some godforsaken reason make up 99% of earphones these days.

Sweets. Here are some things I like: chocolate, cheesecake, ice cream, fruit. However, I am easily overwhelmed by large quantities of sweets so absolutely no need to go overboard on quantity. Also, I probably won't want to eat until ~5 days after the surgery.

Fic:

Homestuck:

My shipping wall is here.

I would love fic focusing on a pale couple, particularly one of the ones below. In general I like fics that put the romance in pale romance, with longing and fluttery feelings and worrying over small gestures--just no makeouts or sex.

Sollux<>Terezi!! The OTP!! I'm love them. Things I like about this ship include: They each have such high expectations of themself, and find it hard to let go of their perceived responsibilities to relax and attend to their own needs. Sollux in particular I see as really awful at taking care of himself (regularly eating, sleeping, showering), but we've seen that Terezi is capable of self-destructive spiraling as well. They each tend to see themselves as responsible for things that aren't their fault, and I think they'd each find it much easier to take care of the other than themself. Conversely, they have a lot of trust in each other's competence--when the chips are down, there's no one they trust more to have their back. I also really enjoy the childhood-friends-to-moirails aspect of the ship, how deeply they know each other, and watching them be incredibly inept at addressing their feelings despite their competence in other areas. They banter a lot, which is fun in its own right, and I also love watching them banter to avoid addressing their feelings for each other (which they inevitably end up having to face).

John|June<>Vriska - Things I like about this ship include: John being able to talk Vriska through her problems in a way that the other people in her life can't, because he has some distance from them. I think it was already a sign of Vriska's character growth that she was able to admit to John both that she killed Tavros and that she was having mixed feelings about it, and I am more interested in seeing Vriska get to make a fresh start through bonding with someone who wasn't involved in her previous history than trying to seek forgiveness from people she's personally hurt. I want to see her be able to grow as a person. And on John's side, I just think it would absolutely rule for him to have a badass who is 8000% ride-or-die, "my moirail deserves the best", in his corner. And, I'm not normally one for post-canon content (frankly even the back half of act 6 is on thin ice), but I loved this post and would be interested to see something building off it. Specifically going with the angle that trolls don't have much of a concept of coercive gender assignment, compared to us, and Vriska being totally comfortable with her transness and able to help June through her process of discovery, while still being super traumatized by stuff that June is able to help her through from her own perspective.

Kanaya<>Karkat - Things I like about this ship include: Them relying on each other / retreating to each other in times of great distress. Kanaya being attracted to dangerous situations, and Karkat grounding her and being her voice of reason. Them being dorks over their trashy romance novels together, and having long, involved discussions about why the characters are perfect for each other. Kanaya feeding from Karkat, and the trust that demonstrates.

Folykl<>Kuprum - I have a headcanon post for them here. Things I like about this ship include: The fact that they are gross and awful people who genuinely love each other. They're crass, they're mutually (and consensually) assholes to each other, they really do love each other.

The Locked Tomb:

Camilla<>Palamedes (as a crossover, or as some variety of queerplatonic relationship) - I like their utter devotion to each other and utter trust in each other's competence. I will have read Nona the Ninth and will be interested in stuff that builds off the Calamedes relationship development from that book.

Gideon/Harrow/Alecto - Harrow has two hands! Obviously there are a lot of different ways you could take the Alecto characterization, but I guess my headcanon for now is that she finds things like kissing and sex totally incomprehensible, is probably neurodivergent in the extreme, but she absolutely does love Harrow enough to haunt her and protect her however she can. And maybe that's something Gideon can come to respect or even love. Mostly I just want to see them all together in any way.

Locked Tomb / Homestuck crossover:

There is currently ONE crossover between TLT and HS on AO3, and I think that's a tragedy. Here are some things I'd like to see:

Locked Tomb characters as trolls so that they can have quadrants: Gideon♠️ Harrow, Camilla♦️Palamedes, Augustine♠️ Mercymorn (edited bc tumblr stole my quadrant symbols D:<)

Homestuck characters going through the Lyctoral trials at Canaan House. I just think it'd be a fun concept. Pair them up. Traumatize them in new and exciting ways. Fuck, I just thought of Terezi and Sollux as necro and cav, and now my heart is doing things.

Art:

I have this image in my head of Tavros, still paralyzed, on a climbing wall, able to make it to the top with just his arms. Maybe he has one hand on the top of the wall and the other hand in a fist pump, and he's just so genuinely happy.

Thank you again for reading all this!