#I WANTED TO SOLIDIFY HOW I DRAW HER TOO!!!!!!!

[cupiidzbow]

cool down after work today so i wanted to doodle the actual queen of the world and my heart 🩵

[kozachenko]

Finally decided to play around with my old lineless style again! Also figured out a way to draw Reimu that I actually really like!

Artist's Notes;

I've mentioned in a few earlier posts that I've been wanting to draw in my lineless style again for a while as a way to test what I've learnt from my previous style in regards to lighting. I did the face first and then for a while was thinking about doing a full body illustration of Reimu just to draw her outfit again. I'll talk about the face first since that's the first drawing I did in this batch.

For the longest time I really couldn't find a way to translate Reimu's face into my style. I was able to make her clothes work out well, just not really her face. I did like elements of how I drew her face a few other times, namely the tiny eyebrows and her pupils, but they didn't really feel like Reimu to me, or at least how I imagined her in my head. I then realized that it was less of a problem with the entire face and moreso the eyes, and it took me quite a bit of trial and error to make something that I was happy with. Also, as much as I thought the tiny eyebrows were cute, it didn't really make sense with her character. Like, from what I know about Japanese history, plucking your eyebrows was something that nobles (rich people) would do, and since Reimu is...neither of those things, I decided to just give her some thicker eyebrows instead (I will be saving the plucked eyebrows for another character though, so they will return). After I got to a face I was happy with, my next challenge was the hair. I did the front part first and liked that enough to continue, and then after more trial and error I realized that deep down I was a short-hair-Reimu-is-best-Reimu-truther this whole time because once I gave up on the long hair and gave her shorter hair something just clicked in my brain. And so, after drawing her outfit in again (this time without the yellow tie which is kinda sad but I'll find a way to incorperate it into future designs because it just was not making sense to me in context with the rest of the outfit) and finnicking around with the bow, I came to a version of Reimu's face that I actually liked. I thought that it made more sense for her character to have her cut it short, mainly because she's doing a bunch of Youkai extermination and she has to keep her hair out of her face somehow. I still wanted to make it kinda messy though, as Reimu is probably too lazy to clean it up herself. I think another reason I like it so much is because in Forbidden Scrollery, Moe Harukawa gave Reimu short hair and that really suited her, so I guess that was just a subconcious reason as to why I liked it so much. I also think that the shorter hair helps to separate her a lot from Marisa, as I think Marisa looks really good with longer hair. Speaking of, now I wanna do a drawing of her and Reimu together to really solidify how I draw them (unlike the previous version where it was just them standing). As much as I do like the face, I am concerned if she looks too much like how I drew Keiki now, but that might just be a product of the stylistic choices I made with her eyes and I might just be overthinking it. I am hyperaware of same face syndrome so that's probably the reason I'm so concerned about it lol.

Now for the fully body drawing. I was struggling to think of a good pose for her, so I just took a picture of myself and used that as a reference while still making slight adjustments for readability's sake. This is another case of, "I've looked at this too long and can spot every single issue with it" but this time I'm still happy with the final product mainly because this was a test drive for how I want to develop my lineless style in the future and for what it is I am more than pleased with the result. The main reason I deviated away from my lineless style was mainly because I was having a hard time with the lighting and making it interesting, and I am so glad that I've finally found a way to make it work! I'm especially happy with the clothes, as I think clothing folds are really fun to draw. I was somewhat inspired by the works of J.C. Lyendecker and the way he draws clothes, though admittedly it is not a one to one, since I mainly wanted to try implying the shading of the clothing folds with shapes (I do really want to do a study of his style one day as his art is incredible). So for the sleeves, I drew in a bunch of triangles where I wanted there to be a strong highlight, roughly coloured in the inside, and then blended them all so it looks like a more subtle. On both of these drawings, I also added in a noise filter to give it some texture (as that's what I used to often do with my drawings) and while I do like it, I might want to experiment with making it more subtle in the future, as it's pretty noticeable in both these drawings. Overall, I'm really happy with the lighting and colours of this drawing, and while I could nitpick several aspects of it (her hand holding the gohei looks too tense, I tried making her look like she was standing on the balls of her feet but the positioning of her Gohei's trail of papers ends up making it look weird, and I could've put more effort into the hair and bow and so many more things), this is more of a piece for me to experiment with my style again, and I'm excited for when I get a new idea for a piece, as I really wanna try some more stuff out with this style!

[starzgaze]

LOVESICK POTENTIAL: sung jinwoo

pairing: yandere!sjw/reader

UNFINISHED incoherent drabble brainrot on yandere!sjw hahaha... this is so unfinished but it fried my brain so badly all i can do is draw this out later because i cant write for long periods of time 😒 also english isn't my first language so this is really ERRR not good also no proofreading we die raw

tw: froth and nothing much

BEFORE THE DUNGEON EVENT:

This era of jinwoo was so cute he looked so squishy I'm biting my bedsheets. This time is the perfect moment where jinwoo gets his reasons on why he's a little cuckoo over [y.name].

Jinwoo always came home covered in bruises and maybe with a dent in his mental health. I mean not only you face life threatening monsters but you also face the words of your fellow hunters that consists of demeaning and degrading your whole existence does horriblewonders to Jinwoo's mental health! After when his mother came out of the picture by falling ill to the Eternal Slumber, Jinwoo had to face the expectations on becoming the breadwinner and help to keep his family a float.

Jinwoo doesn't have ambitions or anything during this time, not when he's too focused on trying to feed Jinah and pay the bills. He's a blank pitiful slate who's being driven by desperation and the promise he made to his mother to take care of his sister. He doesn't have anyone to turn to and he can't tell what he's experiencing to his sister because that'll make her worry for him! Jinwoo doesn't want his sister to flunk her studies because he made her worry for him... so he's basically alone.

Until you come in to the picture. [y.name] one of the few people who saw him as a person instead of some weak pitiful excuse of a hunter. It doesn't really matter how you meet Jinwoo, whether it be through connections, after a dungeon raid, or you randomly meeting him on the street, what matters is how you perceive him as a person and how you turn his miserable world upside down.

When [y.name] entered his life, it felt like a ball of light entered his dim world but not as if [y.name] was extremely energetic or what not. It was more like that [y.name] ignited something within Jinwoo. [y.name] would stop by and talk to Jinwoo, solidifying his self as a person. They would talk about ideals and goals and even encourage Jinwoo to maybe create his own when they found out that he didn't had any of his own. Jinwoo felt so warm inside whenever he'd spent time with [y.name]. He felt so inexplicably happy.

Jinwoo decided that [y.name] is his goal and the driving force of his ambitions.

Jinwoo limped a bit as he walked towards his small apartment he shared with his sister. It was what remained when his mother was sent to the hospital for falling ill. He groaned silently as he clenched his arm that was throbbing in pain. Even after being recently healed by Joohee, he could still feel the pain of his arm being battered to smithereens.

He wondered how many dungeon raids left till he'll perish by the hands of some low ranking monster.

The young man approached his door before suddenly being called out by a familiar voice. Jinwoo turned around and his bleak mood was changed into a more joyful one.

"Jinwoo! I caught 'ya this time!" [y.name] giggled as they skipped over to Jinwoo, a small mischievous smile plastered on their features. Jinwoo chuckled at [y.name]'s words as he admired [y.name]. He wondered what did he do in his life to meet [y.name]

Jinwoo hoped that the next dungeon raid isn't the one where he'll perish by the hands of a monster.

AFTER THE DUNGEON EVENT:

Jinwoo would probably avoid contacting [y.name]. After realizing he has a new opportunity to get stronger. His mental health before wasn't the best, he often thought he was pulling [y.name] back and has this mindset that he didn't deserve any of the kindness he was receiving from anyone especially from [y.name]

But now? he has now the chance to pay them all back by becoming stronger and become someone they can all rely on. So randomly... he'll just disappear from [y.name]'s life randomly. Jinwoo feels horrible but he isn't ready to face [y.name] again but he promises to himself that he'll meet his darling[y.name] soon.

Jinwoo would admire [y.name] from afar and sometimes do this just for the sake of answering to his personal question of: "I wonder how are they doing now?". Jinwoo is aware how much it hurts to [y.name] that he randomly disappeared from their life without a word especially how worried they were for him.

When Jinwoo finally deems he's prepared and worthy enough to face [y.name] he almost forgotten how different he looked when he last met [y.name]. Jinwoo almost scared [y.name] away when a devilishly handsome tall young man approached them with a bouquet of flowers in hand. Thankfully, [y.name] recognized the man from the slightly meek demeanor he showed.

Maybe after a few more meetups and catch ups, [y.name] would notice the many changes on Jinwoo's overall.. being? like aside from the fact he's now built like a sculpture made by the gods, he's more confident and charming?.. Jinwoo of course didn't miss the way how [y.name] would quiet down and stare at Jinwoo, taking note every little different detail on Jinwoo. This fed the hunter's ego and was proud how his hardwork paid off.

While [y.name] was admiring Jinwoo, they didn't notice how Jinwoo added a few of his shadows into [y.name]'s shadow. His love for [y.name] during their absence has doubled a thousand fold and the lengths he'd go for [y.name] is now boundless. Jinwoo's goal of achieving [y.name] might not be impossible anymore if he pushed himself a bit more just like what [y.name] says.

After meeting up with Jinwoo, [y.name] bid the hunter goodbye as they exited the cafe. [y.name] was pleasantly joyful that Jinwoo didn't forgotten about them and met up with them again after a few years but this still didn't made [y.name] pissed off over the fact he basically ghosted them for a few years too!

[y.name] walked down the cold street that was dimly lit up by the lamp posts around the area. They shivered a bit as they tried to warm up their hands by shoving one of them in their trenchcoat's pocket. [y.name] was on their phone when they suddenly bumped into a man by accident.

"ow.. oh? I'm sorry I didn't notice you there I'm really sorr—" [y.name] stammered out as they bowed their head in apology but then they felt a hand pushing them hard enough to be stumble back into a lamp pole, hitting their back pretty hard. The man reached out to [y.name]'s trenchcoat's pocket and pulling out their purse then he ran away with their purse in hand.

"agh! what the- my purse?!" [y.name] yelled as they rubbed their back to ease the throbbing pain as they tried to run after the robber.

Unfortunately for [y.name] he was fast on his feet and after for a while they lost him. [y.name] panted as they decided to not give up yet and looked around the now lightless and eerie street, it seems like the robber ran into a more abandoned side of the city.

[y.name] roamed around the street and would peak occasionally inside of alleyways hoping to catch the man but much to their dismay, they haven't seen any glimpses or hints. They mindlessly walked around, slowly losing hope until they heard a quick shriek then a hard thump from a nearby alleyway. A cold sweat went down their neck as they froze in place... Did something happen?

[y.name]'s eyes narrowed down on the alleyway where they assumed the sound originated from. They contemplated for a bit whether they should check it out before they decided to see what it was, clinging on the possibility it might be their purse. [y.name] slowly peeked their head in the alleyway and immediately gasped at the sight.

The man who stole their purse on floor, wriggling in pain before a dark figure. Froth was coming out of his mouth as dark inky shadows circled around his throat. His ankles looked twisted but in a very unnatural degree that it looked grotesque.[y.name]'s eyes shakily looked at the soon to be a corpse then up to the figure who was holding their purse. They blinked blankly at the figure.. [y.name] recognized him?!

"Jin..woo?..." [y.name] murmured underneath their breath as the figure looked up to see [y.name] who was pretty shaken up. The light finally hits the figure's and it revealed it was indeed Jinwoo... but he had this soulless glint in his eyes that suddenly brighten up at the sight of [y.name]

"ah. [y.name]" He called out as he walked past the struggling man and approached [y.name] who took a step back away from Jinwoo. This made his heart wrench.

"don't. don't move away. it's dangerous at this time, you shouldn't be alone" Jinwoo continued as he was finally in front of a terrified [y.name]

"you shouldve accepted my offer walking you home"

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Cowboy Resolutions

Summary: New Year’s Eve at the Hard Deck with all of your friends was a tradition, one that you loved and held close to your heart. When you and your husband decide to slip away from the crowd for a late night stroll on the beach right before midnight, you realize that neither of you had the purest of intentions when it came to wanting to get away. 

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 2.8K Warnings: Smut with a dash of fluff, including shenanigans in public. Language.

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You feel his arms wrap around you right before you hear his voice in your ear, low and husky and trying too hard to be sexy to actually be sexy. 

“Hey there darlin. How about we be naughty together and save Santa a trip next year?” 

You can’t help the snort you let out as you start laughing. Jake kisses your neck playfully before you turn in his arms to face him, chest pressed to his. You’re careful not to spill the drink you had just gotten. “If that’s how it works, I’m pretty sure we secured our spot on the naughty list on Christmas day a week ago, pretty boy.” 

He wags his eyebrows dramatically, drawing another giggle out of you. “I think you’re right, beautiful. Several times, if I remember correctly.”

“On that note, I’m going to play pool before I vomit everywhere.” 

You ignore Nat’s gag and loud proclamation; you don’t need to look at her to know that she rolled her eyes as she walked away from where the two of you had been chatting at the bar before your husband had interrupted. 

“Well they say you’re supposed to bring in the year the way you want to spend it,” you tell him, and he hums thoughtfully. 

“A year of amazing sex with my absolutely smokin’ wife? Screw the good list, where do I sign?” 

His voice gets lower the closer he brings his face to yours, and by the last word, you can feel him speak against your lips. You grin into it when he finally kisses you. Despite the fact that every regular in the bar should be used to seeing your public displays of affection after years of it, cat calls still ring out over the sound of chatter and the jukebox. You roll your eyes while you pull away, but Jake’s shameless smirk is enough to soften your smile. 

“Jealous fuckers,” he mutters, and you’ve gone through this enough to know he’s only joking. His eyebrows raise again and he lets his hand drift to slide over your butt, squeezing once through the material of your skirt. “Maybe we should really give them something to gawk out.” 

You laugh at his familiar antics and shake your head. “Down, Cowboy.”

But you know that Jake's playful nature, one that not many people get to see, is one of the things you love most about him. His ability to make even the simplest moments feel special and exciting is what keeps the flame alive in your relationship, even after all this time.  

“Aww, darlin. You’re no fun.” 

“Careful now,” you tell him, linking your fingers through his and starting to make your way through the crowd to where your friends have gathered by the pool tables. You grin at him playfully over your shoulder, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Or you won’t get any kisses at midnight.” 

The sound of Jake’s laughter was one of your favorite sounds in the whole world, and you let it surround you as you greet the group you considered family. New Year’s Eve at the Hard Deck was something you had done the last two years, and with this third occurrence, you thought it was a solidified tradition amongst you all. It’s nice, being able to have those now. You and Jake have moved around a handful of times in your relationship, never in one spot for long, but San Diego is somewhere you’re so glad to actually call home now. It’s something you were unbelievably grateful for - that, and these people who continuously brought so much joy into your life. 

As the night wears on, the bar becomes increasingly crowded and lively. The music thumps through the speakers, blending with the laughter and conversations that filled the air. It’s when Bradley unplugs the jukebox and settles in at the old, worn piano by the bar that your husband links his fingers through yours, tugging lightly. You look over at him to see him tilt his head toward the general direction of the back door. You smile lightly, knowing what he’s asking without him having to utter a word, and you nod. 

As you take a break from the crowded bar and step outside into the crisp night air, Jake wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. 

“Take a walk with me?” he asks, and you murmur your assent. You know that the heeled boots you’re wearing won’t mix well with the sand, so using him as an anchor, you bend to take them off. You sigh in relief once your toes hit the sand, feeling cool and refreshing through the barrier of your socks. 

“Lead the way,” you smile. 

The moon hangs low in the sky, casting an ethereal glow over the ocean.  He keeps you tucked into his side as you walk along the empty beach, the music and lights from the bar fading with every step. The chilly wind bites at your cheeks, but the warmth of the alcohol you had consumed and Jake's body keeps you cozy. If you weren’t always so in tune with his touch, you may have missed the way his hand progressively slid lower and lower on your back. 

“I feel like you didn’t have the purest intentions with this walk,” you murmur. A shiver runs through you that has nothing to do with the breeze and everything to do with the sound of his low, deep laughter. It rumbles through his chest, vibrating against your side. 

“Well, darlin’, you know me too well.” He leans down and presses a soft kiss to your temple. "Maybe I had a little ulterior motive," he admits, his voice laced with something.  “What do you say?” 

You giggle as he kisses down the side of your face, featherlight and intoxicating, and tugs lightly on your ear. “Here?” 

“No,” he says, “there.” 

He points, and through the darkness, you see the old lifeguard stand, unmanned this late at night, especially this far down the beach. His suggestion hangs in the air, thick with appeal and eagerness.

“Well,” you say after a brief moment of contemplation that really didn’t take long at all. You take a step away from him, your body automatically missing his warmth even as it thrummed with excitement. You shoot him a look that you know he recognizes by how his smile transforms. “I did say you should bring in the year the way you want to spend it, didn’t I?” 

You take off in a run at the same moment he reaches for you, and you squeal with laughter as he chases you right to where he pointed earlier - right to where you want him now. 

He presses you against the wooden structure once you both reach it, and without breaking stride, his lips are on yours. The kiss is slow and tantalizing at first, but soon enough, it deepens, and his tongue sweeps into your mouth in a familiar dance that leaves you breathless. He tastes like whiskey and the leftover mini candy canes you kept in your purse and your heart races. The sounds of the crashing waves and distant partying from the bar fade away as you sink into his embrace. You feel his other hand slide up your thigh, tracing slow circles on your skin. His touch is electric, making your body hum. Even the cool breeze nipping at your exposed skin isn’t enough to cool you down. 

As he pulls back, breathing heavily, you run your fingers through his hair, enjoying the softness of it between them. His breath comes out hot against your lips as he whispers, "I love how responsive you are to me."

His mouth descends upon yours again. His hand moves higher, cupping your breast through your sweater, his fingers teasing your nipple through the fabric. Your response is instantaneous; you arch your back and groan, completely caught up in the moment.  "How do you want it?" he asks, kisses trailing down your neck. You tilt your head to allow easier access to your throat. 

"Jake," you moan. You clutch at him, one hand in his hair and the other wrinkling the material of his flannel shirt. 

"Tell me, darlin'," he requests, commands, and you whimper as it's accompanied by a bite of your skin. "How do you want it? You want to climb up in the chair? Or you want me to take you right here against it?" 

It was hard to think with the way he was touching you and the feel of his lips on yours. But you suddenly had the undeniable urge to ride him. The added bonus of being elevated off the ground like you would be, all the while being safe in your husband’s arms, sent a chill of excitement through you. “Up,” you breathe, pushing him away just slightly. 

You’re both clumsy as you eagerly climb up onto the raised, wide seat. You hiss at the cold of the wood as your knees settle on either side of his thighs, but his touch distracts you immediately as he tugs your short skirt up to bunch at your waist, allowing you to sit on his lap more comfortably and without risk of stretching the material. You smirk for just a second before a groan tears from his throat when his fingers meets nothing but skin. 

“You forget to put something on, baby?” he husks, and you shake your head. You don’t even try to look innocent. 

“You weren’t the only one with ulterior motives, Cowboy.” 

Your hands move to his belt buckle, undoing it with practiced ease. He watches you intently as you move on to the button and zip of his jeans. He's hard under your hands and god, you want him. But you know you're not the only one. Jake groans, his hips thrusting instinctively into your touch. Your eyes flash to his and you see him biting his lip as he watches you intently, his green eyes dark with desire. You feel powerful like this, seeing the hunger there. 

You pull his erection from the denim keeping him confined. He's hard and thick, the head glistening with a bead of pre-cum. You can't resist running your hand over the smooth, velvety skin, stroking him gently. Jake's breath hitches, his eyes fluttering shut as you continue to stroke him. He keeps a hand steady on your back, ensuring your balance, but lets the other reach down between your legs. His touch brushes against your own as he goes, stroking through the liquid heat he finds. You moan softly as his fingers find their way inside you, matching the rhythm of your hand on him. His thumb swipes across your sensitive clit, sending a jolt of need through you. You gasp, your other hand pulling at the back of his head, drawing him closer. 

"Jake, please," you beg, arching into his touch. He pulls his hand away from you just long enough to position himself at your entrance. He drags his cock through your wetness, coating himself. He's hard and ready, and you can't wait any longer. "Please." 

He doesn't need any further encouragement as he slowly enters you, stretching you open in the best way. You cry out in pleasure, your head falling back as you feel him deep inside you. 

"God, you feel so good," he whispers, his breath ghosting over your skin. Like you want to prove to him that you can be even better, you lift yourself off of him slowly, sinking back down as he moans. "That's my girl." 

His muscles tense under your touch, urging you on, and you oblige without hesitation. His hands keep a firm grip on your waist as you set a steady rhythm. Your thighs burn deliciously from the exertion, but you don’t mind, leaning forward to capture his lips. It's a frenzied tangle of tongues and teeth, while his hips buck upward into yours. The feel of him inside you is exhilarating, driving you closer and closer to the edge. 

Your hands twine in his hair, pulling his head back just enough so you can look into his eyes. They're lust-filled and dark, mirroring the emotions swirling within you. 

"Harder," you pant. 

"Fuck, baby," he growls as he speeds up his pace. He thrusts into you harder, each hit sending ripples of pleasure through you. Your heart pounds against your ribcage as you press closer to him. He hits that spot inside of you that only he can reach and the stars that dot your vision aren't from the sky above you. 

"Yes, oh, fuck. Jake!" He finds it again and your muscles clench. "I'm going to come," you gasp, and Jake's answering groan lets you know that he's close, too. 

"Come for me, darlin'," he chants, his voice low and raspy, commanding you to give in to the feeling. 

His words send you over the edge, and your scream of his name is cut off with his mouth surging to meet yours - you had nearly forgotten that you were outside. Your orgasm ripples through you, your body trembling under the waves of pleasure. You feel him give one, two, three more thrusts before he’s falling over, too. His cum is hot as it fills you and you can’t help but moan into his kiss at the sensation - there was nothing quite like it.

He pulls back once breathing becomes an issue. You're both panting and breathless. He takes your face in his hands, the roughness of his fingertips a long-formed comfort. You just stare for a few moments, letting your heart rates settle. 

"Hell of a way to end the year," he finally murmurs, voice filled with warm affection. 

You can't pass up the opportunity he's given you considering the current circumstances, raising an eyebrow playfully. "With your cum inside of me?" 

He huffs out a laugh, but you feel his cock twitch inside of you nonetheless. “The best way to do it.” 

You hum in response and grab his wrist, twisting it to get a look at his watch. 11:52. 

"If we hurry we can probably make it back to the Hard Deck in time for midnight," you tell him, though you're in no rush to move. Jake shrugs a shoulder, and it's enough to tell you that he isn't, either. You smile at him softly, leaning forward for another kiss. After another minute or two, you gently disentangle yourself from each other. Jake tucks himself back into his pants as you pull your skirt down. The raised wooden structure is really not comfortable for either of you now that you weren't completely caught up in your lust. He climbs down from the chair first and keeps a protective hand on you as you make your way down after him. 

Instead of moving to walk back to the bar, though, you settle together in the sand. Your back is to his chest and his arms are wrapped firmly around you. His chin is tucked into your shoulder and you watch the waves gently lapping in the ocean as you sit in a peaceful, comforting silence. 

“Any resolutions this year?” he eventually asks. You feel his breath against your neck and goosebumps erupt over your skin. You hope you never stop reacting to him this way. 

“Hmmm. None yet. You?”

“Already did it,” he says nonchalantly. Your eyebrows furrow and your twist your neck to look at him. 

“What?”

His smirk grows and his green eyes twinkle with mischief. “Guarantee myself on the naughty list for Santa next year, obviously.” 

You smack his arm right as the fireworks start going off, and his laughter is masked by the sound. There are bursts of every color you could imagine appearing in the sky, and you let yourself get distracted by the display until your husband nudges you gently. 

When your eyes meet his this time, the look on his face is softer. It’s a look he only ever has for you, full of love and adoration, and despite how long you’ve been together, you feel butterflies erupt in your tummy as it washes over you. He tilts your chin up with a gentle hand. It’s the sweetest kiss you had exchanged all night, nothing more than a light brush of his lips against yours. Your nose brushes against his as, for a moment, you just breathe the other in. 

“Happy New Year, darlin’,” Jake finally whispers, and his words taste sweet against your lips. 

“Happy New Year, Jake.” 

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Notes: Happy (almost) New Year everyone! Finishing off the trifecta of holiday fics with The Blonde One™️ just felt right. Thanks for reading! Likes/comments/reblogs are the kindest.

Special thanks to @roosterforme and @mak-32 for all of their help as always, and for Mak for making the dreamiest banners.

Main Masterlist

[tabithatwo]

What do you think about the scene in ep1 where Shauna masturbates on her daughters bed while looking at pictures of her boyfriend? Maybe I'm reading too much into it, but I found it disturbingly similar to younger Shauna sleeping with Jackie's boyfriend

Oh hey, so this response is like perhaps over a year late but someone else asked me about this and I remembered I had 3/4 of this response drafted so hi I’m here now lmao

Anon, I do NOT think you’re overthinking this scene. I actually think there is so much room to think about this scene that a thesis could be written on it. It’s so layered and an incredibly bold choice on the show’s part to include it. It is our introduction to adult Shauna, and I think that the creators of the show clearly felt that it was very important.

This scene made me so uncomfortable as a first time casual viewer that I actually tried to rationalize it away. I remember saying aloud to the person I was watching with “No, that has to be her own childhood bedroom, right? She must be, like, visiting her aging parents?” Clearly I was ignoring the very ridiculous set design of Callie’s room entirely lol, but my mind wanted to find a different explanation. And it took me a while to come around to really loving Shauna as a first time viewer of the show, in part due to how much that scene shocked me.

All that to say, it is absolutely reasonable to find yourself very uncomfortable when thinking about that scene, as many people say that they do when they’re proclaiming that they wish it didn’t exist in the show. But I don’t think that means the scene should be ignored by any means. That discomfort is the point of the scene. Shauna is such a fascinating character, because she swings back and forth from shockingly depraved and cruel, to heartbreakingly kind and loving. She draws both the audience AND the other characters into this unpredictable back and forth with her, and it is easy for us AND them to forget what she is truly capable of when she is in one of her sweeter moments. That is what makes her one of the most fascinating characters of all time to me.

Okay, now we can get into my personal interpretation of this scene. I have always felt it was about Jackie. I think that was clear early on, but, after s2 aired, having more information about Shauna’s relationship with Callie did impact my interpretation of the scene and solidify some suspicions I had.

Shauna clearly does not see Callie as her daughter in any traditional sense. She tells Lottie as much, that she never could fully believe Callie was real and hers. And we see, with increasing clarity as the show goes on, that Shauna views Callie as a peer more than anything. Shauna has both stunted development and difficulty expressing affection. We see her tell Callie that it would’ve been easier if she HAD just had sex with the cop. That’s a very strong indicator of their dynamic. Shauna just doesn’t have the capacity to mother Callie.

That is important context because, with the scene in Callie’s bedroom, Shauna is recreating the thing she used to do when she was young and Jackie was alive. I don’t think she is even thinking about the fact that it’s her daughter’s boyfriend or bedroom, because she doesn’t even really think of Callie as her daughter much of the time. It’s so complex and muddled and, you guessed it, uncomfortable!

In my opinion, people are NOT ready for the intricacies of the ways Callie is a Jackie proxy for Shauna to be developed further. Like the show is establishing it pretty heavily, and I think in a very compelling way, but if it goes down that road more explicitly I have a feeling that people are not going to be able to separate the WAYS in which Shauna sees Jackie in her, if that makes sense.

I think s2 did have some compelling threads of this. Shauna caring for the Jackie corpse doll and getting frustrated and “hurting” her with the ear coming off scene. Shauna not being able to protect her, initiating and endorsing the consumption of her, then hinting at having fears that she’d hurt the baby when she was pregnant, losing the baby, worrying that they’d do to the baby what they did to Jackie, twisting it so much that she can’t help but believe they ate the baby too.

She associated the baby with Jackie very heavily. And in doing so, I think she parentified herself to Jackie in a really fascinating way, like Jackie was her first failure.

If she couldn’t care properly for Jackie, who loved her so much (and became an actual martyr and saint to her), and she couldn’t care for her children who were absolute innocents, then she must be the epitome of horrible and she should squash those caring instincts bc clearly they aren’t actually Good, type shit. That’s how I feel like Shauna spirals into her destructive behavior.

So what happens here, imo, is that Shauna doesn’t really see any of her relationships clearly. I don’t think she consciously thinks of Jackie as The Girl She Was In Love With, and I don’t think she consciously thinks of Callie as her daughter most of the time. Shauna just thinks of them both as people she has loved and failed, as well as people who piss her the fuck off and make her feel trapped in a life she doesn’t want.

She sees a lot of Jackie in Callie, and she acts out in really horrifying ways throughout the entire show to try and gain control, and this scene is one of them. Shauna has always used sex as a way to reclaim control, even when it is absolutely insanely inappropriate, and often when it isn’t at all about actual pleasure. We see more of this in s2, when she BRINGS JEFF TO THE ART STUDIO OF THE MAN SHE KILLED AND FUCKS HIM THERE (that was fucking INSANELY risky and destructive). With masturbating on Callie’s bed, looking at a pic of her bf, Shauna is acting from the same place she was when taking Jeff from Jackie in a way, and I get why that’s uncomfortable to watch. It makes me incredibly uncomfortable, it is SUPPOSED to!

But I think that we are viewing it with so much more logic and thought than Shauna is capable of applying. We draw conclusions from it that are based on a sane person, and Shauna is far from that. I think Shauna is briefly recreating multiple feelings and motivations that drove her to sleep with Jeff as a teenager. The sexual side of things is so wholly Jackie driven, she is constantly seeking ways to feel the way she felt when she was creating that proxy sexual connection with Jackie that she verbatim discusses with Jeff (which is so crazy btw not over that scene). But the side that relates to Callie is driven purely by the frustration and anger. Again, I don’t think Shauna has consciously thought about ANY of it, but if I had to interpret the driving emotions, then I think those would be the most likely.

And I think what it says about Shauna is that she is not living in reality in the slightest. You can not overstate the lack of conscious thought that goes into her actions when she does these things. She is acting on pure impulse, and without any certainty that anything is actually real.

She breaks my heart and this convo about the masturbation scene is so interesting to me because YEAH, that was a ROUGH introduction! and it took me rewatches to allow myself to dig into her character and that’s the point tbh.

On instinct, people either see the actions clearly and hate her, or obscure them to the point of forgetting they happened and love her. But it’s much harder to reckon with them and dig in and come out still loving her.

(I truly can’t believe I have to say this, but I was recently introduced to the fact that yj incest shippers exist, so disclaimer: this is NOT meant to be taken as a romantic or sexual interpretation of Shauna and Callie’s relationship at all. In fact, when I say that I don’t think people are ready for detangling the WAYS in which Shauna sees Jackie in Callie this is exactly what I mean. I just assumed people would wrongly assume it was That and be horrified. I didn’t consider the opposite, and I would like to continue not considering the opposite, so I will prob block anyone who engages with this in that way simply bc I do not want to see it and this is my social media lol)

[meazalykov]

getting what she wants

lena oberdorf x reader

part four of five

summary: you wonder if she will take this as seriously as you will, since the unfortunate event will turn her life around

warnings: angst, acl injury

the atmosphere in washington, d.c. was buzzing, the crowd already filling up the stadium for the final friendly before the olympics. 

the last tune-up match. the send off. you should’ve been excited, but your mind wasn’t entirely focused on the game ahead.

your family was here, your non-soccer playing friends have called off from their jobs just to celebrate your achievements.

however, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, though you hadn’t put your finger on it yet.

emma had decided to rest you for the first half, opting to try out some new formations and lineups before the olympics. 

you were okay with it, knowing that your performance in new york had already solidified your spot in the starting lineup for the tournament. still, sitting on the bench with your legs jittering from the adrenaline that always hit just before a match wasn’t easy.

you sat between tierna and hal, the latter relatively new to the national team setup. hal’s wide eyes scanned the field, soaking it all in as she sat nervously beside you.

"y/n," she said, her voice soft, like she wasn’t sure if she should even speak to you. 

you turn your head to look at her, with a light smile letting her know that she can speak to you anytime. 

"i know you’re going through a hard time, according to the team. and i feel like you should hear this since we haven’t talked much but i’ve just... i’ve always admired you. as a midfielder, i mean. your control, your playmaking, it’s... i don’t know, you’re so goated."

you turned to her, surprised by the compliment. you hadn’t interacted with hal much since this was only her third call-up to the senior team. she was still finding her spot, but her genuine words made you smile, if only a little.

"thank you, you don’t understand how much that means to me right now" you replied, offering her a nod of acknowledgment. 

"you’ve been doing great too. i can’t wait to play with you more often."

hal gave a nervous smile, then added, "i know there’s been... a lot of drama lately. with carmine and everything. but i want you to know that i’d like to be your friend, no matter what. i don’t care about the rumors that might make you look bad or any of that stuff."

her words took you off guard, and you felt a wave of gratitude wash over you. 

it wasn’t easy to open up to new people, especially after your ex ruined your trust for a temporary period, but hal’s sincerity was a breath of fresh air.

"i’d like that," you said, meaning it. 

"friends sound good."

the game started, and for the first half, you sat watching intently, analyzing the way emma was testing out the new players. 

mexico was tough, just as they had been in the gold cup back in february, but you knew that your team had enough firepower to break them down eventually.

at halftime, it was still 0-0, and you were itching to get on the field. 

emma must’ve sensed it, because in the 63rd minute, she called your name.

"y/n, you’re going in. i want you to play in your normal position, just like last game, prioritize the opportunity. stay in the line– i trust you."

you nodded, already mentally preparing yourself as you stripped off your warm-up gear and jogged to the sideline. 

when the whistle blew, you stepped onto the pitch replacing rose lavelle, ready to make an impact.

within minutes, you found your rhythm, linking up with mallory, lynn, and sophia effortlessly. you could feel the game starting to open up, and you knew it was only a matter of time before the breakthrough came.

and then, in the 78th minute, it did.

lynn made a run down the left wing, drawing two defenders toward her. you saw the space open up in the middle and called for the ball. 

she cut it back to you, and without hesitation, you took a touch, then drilled it into the bottom corner of the net.

the goalkeeper dives too late to save it.

the crowd erupted as you run to the corner to celebrate. you see your family and personal friends and give them a heart with your hands, happy to see them here.

your teammates swarming you. it wasn’t a hat trick like the last game, but it was your fourth goal in two games, and it felt good—really good.

after the final whistle, with a 1-0 victory secured, you headed back to the locker room. 

the energy was high, the team buzzing with excitement, but there was a heavy pit forming in your stomach. 

something didn't feel right before the game, and you couldn’t shake it.

as you sat on the bench, wiping the sweat and grass dirt from your face, lindsey walked over, her expression serious. she motioned for you to follow her, pulling you into one of the private areas of the locker room.

"hi?" you asked, sensing something was wrong.

is she confronting you about the drama? you weren’t sure. lindsey reassured you many times that everyone still loves you, so you hope there were no new problems now.

lindsey hesitated for a moment, her eyes searching yours before she spoke. 

"i didn’t want to tell you before the game, but... lena got injured in germany’s friendly against austria. it’s her knee. popp thinks it’s her acl."

your heart dropped into your stomach, the words hitting you like a freight train. 

"what?" your voice cracked, panic already rising in your chest.

"she’s in the hospital back in germany right now," lindsey continued softly. 

"i’m sorry, y/n."

you didn’t think twice. without another word, you grabbed your phone and hurried outside to find a quieter space. 

it was 11:30 p.m. in dc, which meant it was 5:30 am in germany. 

lena would still be awake, especially if she was in the hospital.

with shaky hands, you dialed her number. the phone rang twice before she picked up, her voice groggy but filled with pain.

"hey," lena murmured. 

"i was hoping you’d call. nice goal by the way, i saw it on tv."

"lena, i just found out," you said, your voice tight as you tried to hold back the wave of emotions crashing over you. 

"your acl? are you okay? i—i should’ve called sooner but i had that game—"

"i’m... i don’t know," lena admitted, her voice breaking slightly. 

"it hurts like hell, and i couldn’t sleep. i was supposed to start my first game with you at bayern after the summer, but now... now i don’t even know when i’ll be back."

your heart ached hearing the defeat in her voice. 

lena was one of the toughest people you knew, but this was breaking her.

"i’m so sorry," you whispered, your throat tight. 

"i’ll be there for you, okay? after the olympics, i’ll help you with your recovery. i’ll make time, i promise."

"you don’t have to do that," lena said quietly, though you could hear the gratitude in her tone. 

"i don’t want to be a burden on you. you have so much going on—" she switches to german. 

"lena," you cut her off, your voice firm. 

"you’re not a burden. you’re a priority. i want to help you. i’ll be there for you, whatever you need. i promise."

there was a long pause on the other end before lena spoke again. 

"thank you," she whispered. "i... i don’t know what i’d do without you right now."

you sat there, the weight of her words sinking in. the truth was, you didn’t know what you’d do without her either. 

shes been in contact with you everyday since that night. unless there were training or games, there wasn’t a single long-period where you weren’t texting about something– or anything.

despite everything—despite the complicated mess you’d been through with your ex, and the uncertainty that had surrounded your relationship with lena—you realized just how deep your feelings for her ran.

you weren’t official with lena. not yet. but the way your heart was breaking for her right now told you everything you needed to know.

after a long pause, lena spoke again, her voice softer now. 

"i’ll still make time for you, even with everything going on."

"no," you said firmly. "i’m going to be there for you, okay? i’ll help you recover. you won’t have to go through this alone."

"thank you," lena whispered again, her voice filled with emotion. 

you sat there, the phone still pressed to your ear, your mind racing. this wasn’t how you’d imagined things would go. 

lena was supposed to start fresh at bayern after the summer, and now... now everything had changed.

when you returned to the locker room, the news had already spread. the atmosphere was a mix of excitement from the win and the heaviness of what had just happened to lena. 

your teammates, especially the ones who knew her well like tierna, gave you sympathetic looks, but no one said much.

as the team prepared to leave for d.c., the weight of everything that had happened in the past few weeks hit you all at once. 

from the messy breakup with sloan to lena’s injury, it felt like everything was spinning out of control. 

and yet, despite it all, one thing became clear to you as you boarded the plane for the olympics: 

you wanted to be with lena. not just as a friend, not just as someone helping her recover, but you wanted to be hers. and her to be yours. 

the thing is– you weren’t sure how it would all work out with lena, but you knew one thing for sure: you were in too deep to turn back now. 

when all of this was over, you and lena could figure it out together. 

the olympics came and went in a blur, the pressure mounting as you advanced through the tournament. 

the uswnt played like machines under emma hayes, and before you knew it, you found yourself in the final against brazil, the stakes higher than ever.

the atmosphere at the olympic final against brazil was electric. you were in the 2020 olympics with the team, but winning bronze doesn’t compare to this.

you stood shoulder to shoulder with lindsey and sam, eyes fixed on the opponents you’ve had faced so many times before. 

brazil was known for their speed and creativeness, but you knew alyssa naeher was more than prepared to keep them at bay. 

today wasn’t just another game — it was the olympic final. and you were more determined than ever to bring home gold. just to prove to yourself that nothing could stop your game, not your cheating ex— nobody.

but as the national anthem played, you couldn’t help but think of lena. 

you hadn’t spoken to her much over the last few days, mostly because she was in the thick of her recovery then traveling to meet up with her national team. 

though, lena was in the audience. you knew that. lena visited her german teammates as they won the bronze medal match against spain. to say that you were happy for them would've been an understatement. 

now the germans were here before the ceremony, ready to watch you put on an outstanding performance for gold.

your heart ached when you thought of her, the injury that had thrown both of your worlds off course. 

she was supposed to be thriving, ready to become a star at bayern, and now she was sidelined for months.

but right now, you had a job to do.

the whistle blew, and the final kicked off.

brazil came out swinging, full of energy, and the first twenty minutes were a back-and-forth battle in the midfield. 

every time adriana or marta touched the ball, your heart skipped a beat, but you knew alyssa was solid in the back. 

the triple espresso were pushing the attack, but brazil’s defense was holding strong.

at around the 30-minute mark, you found yourself in space, sam coffey threading a pass your way. 

your first touch was sharp, pushing the ball ahead of you as you glanced up to see the keeper off her line. the triple espresso was blocked by defenders, so without a second thought, you wound up and took the shot from just outside the box, sending the ball curling toward the top corner.

the sound of the net rippling sent a surge of adrenaline through your veins, and the stadium exploded in celebration. 1-0. 

you threw your arms up, letting the emotion wash over you as your teammates rushed to engulf you in a hug.

something inside of you wanted to cry in joy– but you held it in. there was still work to be done, and brazil wasn’t going to back down easily.

the rest of the first half was intense. 

brazil pressed hard, but the u.s. defense, led by alyssa, naomi, emily, crystal, and tierna, stood strong. 

when brazil did manage to get a shot off, alyssa was there, calm and collected, making crucial saves to maintain the lead.

at halftime, the locker room was a mixture of adrenaline and focus. 

the 1-0 lead felt good, but you knew it wasn’t enough. brazil was dangerous, and if you let up for even a second, they’d capitalize.

emma gathered the team for a quick pep talk, her voice steady but full of fire. you listened, making sure that you put on the best performance of your career in this second half.

as the second half kicked off, you could feel the tension. 

brazil came out with renewed energy, and for the first 15 minutes, they pinned you back, testing alyssa with shots from distance. 

she held firm, pulling off save after save, keeping the clean sheet intact.

you cheered, externally or internally, everytime. 

in the 65th minute, emma made a tactical switch, bringing in fresh legs to maintain the pace. fortunately, you weren’t subbed out. 

the game shifted again, and you found yourself back in the attack. mallory broke down the wing, flying past her defender, and whipped in a cross toward the penalty spot.

you were already there, timing your run perfectly. the ball floated in, and without hesitating, you leapt into the air, connecting with the header. 

it wasn’t the hardest shot you’d ever taken, but it was placed perfectly, tucking into the bottom corner past brazil’s keeper.

2-0.

the stadium erupted, louder this time, the roar deafening as you run around the pitch with your arms up high. your  teammates chased then mobbed you once again. most teammates from the bench even jumping up to hug you in celebration. 

a two-goal lead in the olympic final. you could taste the gold now.

with brazil rattled, the game started to open up. there were more chances on both sides, but your defense was unbreakable. 

alyssa, naomi, and emily were locked in, keeping brazil at bay with every attack they mounted. it felt like nothing could get past them, and you could see the frustration building in the brazilian players.

as the clock ticked down, the final whistle was nearing, but you kept your foot on the gas. 

brazil was desperate, throwing numbers forward, and that left them exposed at the back.

in the 88th minute, you found yourself in possession again, just outside the box. 

sophia made a darting run to pull the defenders away, giving you just enough space to take a shot. you faked to your right, cutting back inside, and then unleashed a low, driven strike toward the far post.

the ball hit the bar, but trinity recovered it and tapped it behind the net. 

3-0. the gold was yours.

the crowd exploded in celebration as you dropped to your knees, overwhelmed with emotion. 

trinity laid on top of you, crying with you. 

your teammates swarmed you, hugging you, lifting you up, the joy infectious. you had done it. olympic champions.

as the final whistle blew, the team celebrated like there was no tomorrow, hugging, crying, laughing. 

you had your gold medal moment, standing on top of the world. 

your hands were on your face as your sobs came out uncontrollably. if you told yourself a month ago that you’d be this happy and relieved, you wouldn’t believe it. 

lindsey and tierna comforted you as you stood up to go to the locker room, getting ready to shower before the ceremony. 

as you had a moment to settle down, your thoughts drifted back to lena.

you hadn’t realized how deep your feelings for her had grown.

the fact that she was there, the fact that she was hundreds of feet away in the stadium, recovering from an injury that could derail her season instead of celebrating bronze with her team, weighed heavily on your heart.

later that night, after all the celebrations, after the medals had been handed out and the photos had been taken, you found a quiet moment to yourself. 

the weight of the gold medal around your neck was a reminder of everything you’d worked for, but the ache in your chest was for something, someone else.

you pulled out your phone, glancing at the time. 

lena was probably asleep by now after partying with her national team, but you couldn’t help it. you needed to talk to her.

you dialed her number, your heart pounding as the phone rang. after a few rings, she picked up, her voice groggy.

"hey," she mumbled. 

"you did it!" she cheered through her tired voice. 

"yeah," you whispered, your throat tight. 

"we won."

there was a long pause on the other end, and you could hear lena shift slightly, probably trying to get comfortable in her bed. 

you know that she is someone who sleeps on her stomach, so the brace might make it hard for her. 

"i’m so proud of you," she said softly.

"i wish you were here with me," you admitted, the words slipping out before you could stop them. 

"this doesn’t feel right without you, even if you do have a different nationality than me." you giggled.

"i wish i was there too," she replied, her voice filled with longing. 

"but... i’ll be here when you get back. we’ll figure everything out then. until then, please enjoy your win."

you smiled, tears stinging your eyes. "i’m coming home to you. as soon as all of this is done."

"i’ll be waiting," lena whispered.

as you hung up after the goodnights, the weight of everything hit you all at once. 

the olympics, the gold, lena’s injury, your breakup with sloan, the confusion about what you and lena really were—it was all so much. 

one thing was clear in your mind as you stared down at the gold medal around your neck: it didn’t matter what obstacles lay ahead now. 

you moved on from whatever was in the past and you were in this with lena now, for the long run.

part five, the final part, here

[50shadesofrossi]

Want Me

Ser Harwin Strong x Female Reader

Summary: You're Rhaenyra's lady in waiting, by her side at all times and thus leading you to spend many hours within Ser Harwin's company, drawing the two of you together

Warnings: Smut, mentioned violence, swearing, angst (if you squint), fluff

A/N: Hi, small warning, haven't written a full smut scene for a while so I'm a little rusty, but I hope you enjoy :)

"Want me to kill him?" You absentmindedly offer to Princess Rhaenyra. 

She chuckles from behind you, her fellow ladies attempting to hide their smirks and smiles whilst they finish up her hair. "I know how much you crave violence, but I can not allow you to kill him. Besides, how would you even do it?"

You pause in the mirror, your eyes flickering to find Rhaenyra's. "Seduction is a woman's greatest strength." You whirl around to face her, a cruel expression etching into your face at the thought. "A simple poison into his drink and during the night he'd cease breathing and the Maestor would declare a heart attack. An easy kill, if I say so myself," 

The princess raises her eyebrows, her lips pursing together. Tonight is her name day feast, celebrating another year of her youth and thus drawing in all the potential suitors wishing to offer themselves. One of the Lannister twins made a fool of himself, offending Rhaenyra and thus resulting in you plotting his death, should your princess command it. 

As her lady in waiting, you take your role very seriously. Though, you are oft referred to as her sister, the two of you becoming close at a young age and growing up together. It has solidified your relationship with her, and in turn, you know each other inside and out. 

Your sharp words and cunning nature are a breath of fresh air as opposed to the customary expectations of Rhaenyra's fellow ladies. 

You glance over yourself once more in the mirror, your attention spanning over the finer details of your gown and the excellent work of the seamstress. The dress accentuates your frame, the embroidery and accessories dating back to your House and heritage. 

You look like a woman, a woman grown and of power. 

"Are you ready?" Rhaenyra pulls you from yourself, twirling around to give you a full look at her. 

"Indeed, and must I say my Princess, you look divine." You tell her honestly. 

She smiles, the two of you making your way to the great hall. Heads turn at the sight of you both, the heir to seven kingdoms and her fierce lady, who would protect her more so than a knight. 

Your stomach begins to twist as you near the hall, your teeth grinding together to keep the nerves at bay. You feel a reassuring squeeze on your hand, your dear friend sensing your change in behaviour. 

"If he doesn't fall at your feet and beg for your hand, I'll feed him to Syrax myself," she whispers. 

You bite your tongue, though a small smile creeps out. In the past moons, you've become acquainted with a knight, the two of you sharing passions and dreams. Nothing more of talk has happened thus far, but you can't help but think that maybe he will ask for your hand in marriage, as the two of you spend most days side by side. 

He makes your heart beat rapidly, with the small gestures and whispered words when no one is close. Not to mention, the way he looks at you, like no one else exists but you. 

Yet, you can't help but think that you're in way over your head, too consumed to see the reality. 

You have no time to ponder Rhaenyra's words, as the two of you arrive at the hall, the chatter dying down instantly. Swallowing, you hold your head high, following Rhaenyra down the stairs and toward the high table where you veer off to your own. 

His eyes were on you the moment you appeared, refusing to leave even as you sit down. You look absolutely breathtaking. 

Of course, you avoid his gaze, even from across the room, as you begin to fill your plate. Your skin ignites under his heated stare, your desire overweighting your sense of propriety. Glancing up, you meet him, his deep blue eyes burning into your darkest depths and tearing down every wall you've ever built. 

Ser Harwin Strong, renowned for his strength throughout the seven kingdoms and his proud house. 

Your cheeks heat up under the intensity, neither of you daring to break contact. You admire how he's dressed, his fine threaded clothes making him look regal, his unruly curls neatly pulled back into a bun. Gods.

The grumble of your stomach brings you to your senses, your head bowing down to begin consuming your food. You feel him continue for a heartbeat longer, before he diverts his attention elsewhere. 

As the night begins to progress, you drag Rhaenyra to dance, moving with the music and enjoying yourself. You change partners throughout, making yourself known and extending yourself to the other lords and ladies currently attending for the princess's name day. 

For once, Harwin doesn't grace your thoughts, until he becomes your next partner. 

Your eyes widen for a moment, your breath catching. "Ser-" you start, not expecting to see him. 

"My lady, you look exquisite." His rasps, his body feathering your own. 

His heat wraps around you like wild vines, pulling and tugging you closer, enticing you to become lost. You hit your chin out, refusing to fall prey. 

"And you, good Ser," 

Harwin smiles, a hum of satisfaction rumbling within his chest. His hand brushes your own, a part of him needing to touch you, his resolve almost snapping from the softness of your flesh. His fingers itch to press firmly, to warn off any man or lord that dare think they have a chance with you. 

"Are you enjoying yourself, this evening?" He asks, his lips close to your ear as to make sure you hear him over the loud music. 

You turn your head, his breath fanning your cheek. Heat pools within your stomach, want gnawing at you and demanding to be free. "I'll enjoy myself once I've had my dessert," you dare. 

His eyes narrow, assessing the situation. Little minx. Before he can conjure his own smart remark, a fellow knight of the city watch approaches, pulling him away from you. You watch him go without a word, a sense of humiliation washing over you as you continue to dance alone, searching for Rhaenyra. 

You find her with her uncle, enjoying themselves. 

Biting your lip, you move off the dance floor, standing on the sideline. You feel deflated, watching your friends enjoy themselves and even sneak out of the hall with their suitors, and your heart's deepest love couldn't even excuse himself. He just left you. 

You see him, surrounded by his companions, and more so with an older woman hanging off him. Now you feel stupid, your usual confidence and ego a ghost. The woman wraps an arm around his waist, much like a partner, and him not moving. 

Of fucking course, I'm just the plaything to keep him entertained whilst his lover is elsewhere. 

Grinding your jaw in anger, you inhale deeply and begin to make your way through the crowd, ignoring Harwin and his group as you have to pass them to ascend the stairs out of the hall. Your hasty exit catches many people's attention, especially the one you were hoping wouldn't notice. 

You don't realise he follows you, until you almost reach your quarters. His boots hit the ground harshly, as he tries to catch you, going as far as calling out your name. You pause in front of your doors, whirling around to face him once he draws near. 

Fire dances within your eyes, making Harwin pause momentarily. "Ser Harwin?" You snap. 

"I wanted to make sure you're well, you left in such a hurry," 

"I'm fine," you start, your thumb running over your fingers anxiously. "The hall became too much, so I'm retiring for the evening." 

Harwin tilts his head. He calls bullshit. He knows you, he grew up alongside you and knows that you are one of the last to leave the party, oft enjoying yourself too much to notice the sunrise and thus requiring an escort, usually him. 

He reads your body language, depicting your sudden mood change has something to do with him. He chuckles lightly, amusement etching across his features at your frustrated glare. "You're jealous." 

"Jealous?!" You repeat in disbelief, your raised voice echoing the corridor. "Me? Of what?" You ask him incredulously. You naturally begin to step closer, "of that woman? Why would I be jealous of some wench when I am the Princesses lady in waiting, I can have almost any suitor I want, I have sway within these walls and no one quite realises the extent I'll go to if I'm pushed, not to mention," you stop just shy of him, your chest heaving. "One word to my Princess, and I can have whatever I want." 

Harwin peers down at you, a small smirk gracing his lips at your outburst. "I never said what you were jealous of," he says lowly, almost inaudible if not for your closeness. "I'll be sure to tell my sister you think she's a wench." 

Your world crashes and burns. Sister? That was his fucking sister?! Your heart ceases beating, your breath catches in your throat and your skin clams up. Realisation and dread wash over you, embarrassment etching into your cheeks. You become a wounded animal, and respond much as they do, 

"Fuck you." You don't know what compels you or who takes over your body, but you can't stop the words from tumbling out and sending them straight at Harwin. 

He blinks. 

Quickly you spin on your heel and make haste to your door, pulling the handle to only have it slammed shut, and a large body pressing against you. Your throat constricts, feeling Harwin's entire front against your back as his hand looms over your head, keeping the door closed. 

One small movement, and he could bury his nose into your hair. "Say that again," his chest rumbles, his mouth angling down to press on your ear. To make sure you hear him loud and clear. 

You're frozen, your body shutting down. You open your mouth but nothing comes out. "Go on, don't go shy on me now, my lady," he presses, pushing you. 

Licking your lips, you hesitantly shift on the spot, leaning your back against the door and tilting your head to hold Harwin's gaze. He pins you down, the entirety of his body caging you in, almost like a shield protecting you from peering eyes. 

"Fuck you," you whisper. 

Reflexively, his other hand snaps to your jaw, his fingers digging into the skin. Your lips part, your muscles relax and your body becoming a rag doll. He could very easily suffocate you like he was bunching up a piece of parchment, he wouldn't even feel your bones snap. Yet, in this very moment, your thighs press together, your garment becoming soaked with each passing second. 

You know he won't hurt you. His hold on you is firm and delicate, the pads of his fingers gently holding you in place. He tilts his head, assessing you like he would an opponent, his dark eyes roaming your face and his brows twitching in thought. 

You test the waters, standing straighter and in turn bumping your nose into his cheek. Harwin exhales shakily, his grip tightening if only a smidge, in comparison to his self-restraint. You nudge your nose against his, his hooded eyes following your every move. 

Your breath tangles with his own, desire and hunger transpiring. Harwin's jaw clenches, his palm against the door closing into a fist. You want him, he wants you. Swallowing thickly, your lashes feather your cheeks and you take the plunge, pressing your lips against his own with uncertainty. 

For a moment, you float, your body becoming weightless and your mind lost. His lips are softer than you imagined, despite his harsh reputation, soft and plump on your own. Harwin responds, before suddenly pulling you away by his grip still on your jaw. 

A bucket of cold water drenches you, his sudden cold demeanour creating a crack in your heart. Not so much that he pulled you away, more how forcible it was, after he began to lose himself under the taste of you. That hurts. 

Your eyes flash. You move to release yourself from his grip, but he tightens it, his head turning slightly as though to check for any movement within the corridor. With precision, he pulls you flush to his body and opens the door in one movement, shoving you inside to your quarters and locking the door behind him. 

"You naïve girl," he starts, running a hand over his beard. 

You scoff, creating distance between the two of you by standing at the window sill. "And they say romance is dead." 

Harwin narrows at you. "You have no idea what you've just done, what if someone had seen?" His voice raises, his hand gesturing to the doors. 

Confusion swirls within you at his sudden change of behaviour, at his switch from intimacy to frustration in an upsetting kind of way. "I don't see the problem," you cross your arms, raising a brow. "I want you, and I don't give a fuck what anyone else thinks." 

"Well, you should!" You're taken aback by his sudden outburst, a sliver of fear creeping up your spine. "I am not good for you," he says your name with such emotion. "I have enemies at every turn, I can't be at your side protecting you every day and not to mention what would happen to your reputation-" 

"My reputation?" You cut him off, your voice low in disbelief of what you're hearing. "You think I give a fuck about my reputation! About your enemies? Gods Harwin," you begin to pace, your hands running over your head and falling against your neck. "How fucking dense are you?" 

He attempts to ignore the hiccup in his heart rate at the way his name rolls off your tongue. "I'm more than capable of protecting myself," you start after calming down a notch. You cross the room, standing before the brute and taking his large hands in your own. "Is it that hard to believe that I want you? That I don't care about everything else, about your history and reputation, about the fucking court gossip and your enemies? All I care about is you, your health and well-being, and that I know you'd never hurt me, physically and emotionally. I know you'd die protecting me, and you'd make me feel so loved, despite that shield you put in front of yourself every day." 

Harwin brings your hands to his lips, brushing them over your delicate fingers whilst he closes his eyes, relishing in the moment. His coarse beard caresses your skin, planting the idea of how it would feel between your thighs. 

He opens his mouth to speak, but you drop your hands down, beating him to it. "You want me Harwin?" your voice pulls to him, lulling him in. "I am right here, otherwise there's the door," you gesture. 

Your chest clenches at the thought of him turning his back. You wonder how he could kiss you back, then cough up some bullshit about him being bad for you. It confuses and wounds you. 

His lips part, the cogs turning in his head as he makes his decision. He surges forward, gently taking your head in his hands and angling you upward to capture your lips in a searing kiss. 

He walks you back until you hit the pillar, careful not to slam you into it. His lips move against yours hungrily, his tongue begging for entrance and his breath meddling with your own. Your fingers curl onto the front of his jacket, squeezing out any air left between you, your fronts pressing tightly. 

Your lungs burn, your actions becoming erratic as you move up to his hair, tangling his curls and removing the band keeping it back. You pull at the roots, emitting a deep groan from Harwin, his own hands gliding down your body to find refuge on your waist. 

You pour all your emotions into the kiss; the hunger, lusting, anger and need. He dominates you, his mouth slowly moving down your jaw, his teeth nipping along your bone and travelling to your neck, unknowingly finding your sweet spot. 

You bite your lip at the sound you release, a small sense of embarrassment flooding your body. Harwin immediately comes up, holding you still with his hard stare. "Don't you dare quieten on me." 

"Like your girls loud, Ser Harwin?" 

He chooses to ignore your comment. You smirk, your usual demeanour washing into the shore, a calculating look flashing in your eye. Before he can do anything you shove him back, pushing him down onto the lounge. 

Surprise is evident on his face, his eyes watching you curiously. You crouch between his spread legs, your palms sliding over his thighs in a soothing manner, slowly making your way to his waistband. 

You quite like this image; his unruly dark curls free and framing his face, his intense eyes swallowing you whole and his knees bent outward. He looks casual, yet so fucking handsome you have to restrain yourself from fucking him there. 

"Don't look at me like that," you scold, tugging on his pants. 

"Like what," he grumbles, lifting his hips. 

His pants pool at his feet, his hardened cock free from restraints. "Like I don't know what I'm doing." He eyes you suspiciously, waiting for you to shut down his thoughts. "I've been fucked before, if that's what you're wondering." 

He hums in dissatisfaction. 

"I'll decide if you've been fucked, my lady." You raise a brow at the title. 

He opens his mouth to say something more, but only a loud groan escapes, your lips wrapping around his cock. His hips reflexively jut, his hand moving to your head in response to your movements, your tongue flattening along the underside. 

Harwin shudders, his chest rising in deep pants under your ministrations and his fingers flexing in an attempt to hold himself back from face fucking you. You work him steadily, glancing up at him through your lashes and feeling a sense of pride roll down your spine at his dishevelled state, his head lolling over the back of the lounge. 

"Fuck," he curses, tilting down to hold your gaze. 

You move a hand to work the rest of his cock that you can't fit in his mouth, momentarily pausing when he grabs your wrist, and quickly heaves you off him. "You do that, and this night ends very quickly." 

"I find it hard to believe that Breakbones finishes in under twenty seconds," you muse, slipping out his grip easily and situating yourself on his lap.

He groans quietly, both in frustration and need. "Believe me, my lady, that when I cum, I intend on cumming in you and filling you up." 

"Good." 

You begin undoing his jacket, sliding it off his shoulders and down his arms before moving to his shirt, heaving it up and revealing his toned stomach. Your fingers splay across his chest, feeling his hard-earned muscles and scars from various fights. You pause on a particularly large wound along his abdomen, feathering the pink tissue. 

"Don't worry about it," he whispers your name, reading the emotion on your face. 

"This is an assassination attempt, Harwin." You press, flickering up to hold his stare. "Someone almost succeeded in fucking killing you." Unwanted tears spring in your eyes, raw emotion thick within your voice.

The thought of Harwin being killed, frightens the fuck out of you. 

He cups your cheek, his thumb tenderly wiping a tear. "This is what I meant," he refers to his previous statement about his enemies. You still, your features hardening. 

"Don't you dare, Harwin. Don't you fucking dare." You spit. 

He stays silent, observing you whilst your fingers continue their path along his torso, grazing each other his scars. "Seven Hells help the next man that makes an attempt on your life," you vow, your hand splaying out over his heart. 

"My little warrior," he rasps, pulling you down to him. 

Your lips collide, the taste of him invading your mouth and stealing your breath away. You whimper at the feel of his hands sliding up your arms and resting on your collarbone, toying with your dress. Blindingly he reaches for the lace tying it together, pulling it apart and loosening the top section. 

Goosebumps rise along your flesh as Harwin gently tugs the dress down your arms, exposing your breasts and stomach once it pools around your hips. You rest your forehead in the crook of his neck, gasping under the ministrations of his hands along your breasts, his thumb tweaking the bud. 

You thread through his curls, your nails scraping his scalp and your lips seeking out his neck. 

Suddenly he lifts you off him, placing you down on your feet. You raise your eyebrows in surprise and a little confusion, unsure of his next motive. "Take it off," he commands softly, the low rumble in his chest making your heart rate spike. 

The dress falls to your feet and you step out of it, mindful of taking off your shoes and being left bare before him. He slowly takes his boots off, never breaking contact even whilst he removes his pants. 

You watch him stand, tilting your head as he comes near. He doesn't speak, nor does he kiss you again. Instead, he hooks his hands under your thighs and hoists you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist and your arms coming to the back do his neck. 

He walks toward your bed, gingerly laying you down. You stare up at him with adoration, every fibre of your body knowing you're safe with this man. Despite his reputation, you could almost laugh, knowing that there is a softer, more caring side to him than anyone realises.

No one has ever touched you like you're glass, like you could shatter and slip through his fingers. He kisses you with so much passion and care, in stark contrast to his daily goings. You've witnessed him in a brawl, smashing the men to the ground without a worry and pummelling them to an inch of their life. 

Yet you know, these hands handle you with love. 

You slide up to the head of the bed, brushing the hair from Harwin's face when he comes to hover above you. He descends, missing your face entirely and planting kisses along your neck, slowly travelling south. 

Airy breaths leave you, your body responding to his attention, more so as he pauses over your breasts, taking an erect nipple into his mouth and tugging. Fire pools within your stomach, threatening to pour out. In a way it does, your head falling back into the cushions and your lips parting to release sounds of pleasure. 

Harwin continues his way down, his eyes flickering up to you through his loose curls, intently watching your reaction as he nears between your thighs, softly blowing cool air on your sensitive region. You grit your teeth, glaring down at him. 

"Hurry up." 

"As my lady commands," he chuckles. 

Your flush at the incredibly loud moan, not exactly expecting him to dive right in. Harwin drags his tongue up your slit, finding your clit and sucking. He switches between flicking your clit with his tongue and sucking, groaning lowly to himself at watching you writhe under him. 

He draws more sounds out of you, snaking a hand up to tease your opening, carefully entering a finger. "Fuck!" You arch your back, your hands reaching for his hair. 

He slowly pumps it out of you, enjoying the way you feel around him. He can only imagine how tight you'd be around his cock. The thought almost makes him fuck you right here. 

Your stomach twists, your knuckles turning white. No man has made you feel like this, even with just his mouth and finger, the two bringing you closer and closer to the edge. 

He adds a second finger, wanting to properly prepare you for him, and enjoying watching you lose yourself to the pleasure he's giving you. 

He can feel you get close, teetering along the edge as he begins to increase his pace. You whimper at the ache, rutting your hips upward. "Harwin," you whine at the contact of his lips enclosing over your clit and sucking, hard. 

The fire burns brighter, scorchingly hot and desperate for a release. 

"Let go," he murmurs, gently nipping your clit. You do, your orgasm crashing down like a wave, engulfing you. 

He slowly continues to move his fingers through, allowing you to experience your high as he draws it out. He can't help but clean you up before he even thinks about moving away from the safety of your thighs. 

With ease, Harwin climbs back up, claiming your lips. You taste yourself, rummaging your hands through his hair and down his back, his muscles rippling under the pads of your fingers. 

He pulls away from you, question shining in his eyes; do you still want this?

You nod, leaning up to kiss him again, solidifying your answer. He hums, guiding his cock to press against your slit, teasing you for a moment before he nudges your opening. You gasp on his mouth, your nails digging into his shoulders at every inch. 

Harwin falls into the crook of your neck, groaning at the sensation. He stops moving once you've taken all you can, pausing to make sure you're comfortable. You clench around him in reflex, eliciting a deep rumble from his chest, his beard grazing your neck. 

"Harwin," you pant. "If you don't move in the next five seconds," 

He chuckles at your warning, slowly pulling back. You bite your lip, closing your eyes at the high pleasure rocking throughout your body. Harwin lifts his head, his forehead brushing your own. He intends to watch you complete shatter underneath him. 

He slams home, somewhat slow but hard, rutting into you like wild waves against a rock, your back arching and pressing your chest to his. You can't help but rake your nails down Harwin's back, ignorant to the fact that you're close to drawing blood, desperate for a way to show how easily he's unravelled you. 

"Gods Harwin," you cry out at each thrust, harder and deeper than before. 

He grins, his lips on your ear, "I know quiet isn't exactly in your nature, but maybe don't alert everyone in the Red Keep of our rendezvous." 

"Oh fuck off."

Harwin reaches for the headboard, his knuckles turning white from his harsh grip, using it as leverage to pound harder. You chant his name, subconsciously clenching and unclenching around him, causing him to falter each time. 

That burning ache brews within you, gradually growing with each slide into you. His free hand comes down to your clit, playing with the bud and drawing you closer to the edge. Overwhelming sensations spark up your body, your legs starting to shake from the pleasure. 

"Harwin," you whine. 

"I know," he grits, picking up his pace. He hits parts of you that you never knew existed, fireworks erupting each time he enters you deeper, if that were possible. "Good girl, you're taking me so well, hmm?"

Your head is tilted up by his hand leaving the headboard to cup the side of your face, forcing your eyes on him. You struggle to keep your eyes open, a drowsy, drunken look coming across you. 

Without warning, you let go, bursting around him. "Gods, fuck!" Harwin calls your name, following you over. He couldn't last any longer, not after feeling you come undone from him. 

You gape in a silent moan, relishing in the feeling of him fill you up, his hips slowing but not yet relenting. You shiver from the sensitivity, thankful for when he stops. You struggle to hold contact, fatigue seeping in. 

You sigh at the feeling of him remove himself, your muscles relaxing and your spine calming. You don't see where Harwin moves off to, until he comes back and murmurs for you to spread your legs, gently wiping his seed from your thighs. 

For a moment, you wonder what happens now. Does he just leave? Does he stay? What happens between the two of you? Thoughts rummage, ruining your come down. 

"Hey," he brushes your forehead. "Come here." He pulls the sheets back, indicating for you to crawl underneath. All those thoughts are momentarily thrown out the window when he slides in beside you, pulling you to him. 

You lay in silence, your head on his chest and your hand playing with his loose curls. "What happens now?" You can't help but ask. 

"Now?" He hums, his chest vibrating. "You become my lady wife, and I fuck you whenever I please." 

You laugh, rolling further into him. "You better, now that I've given you my maidenhood." 

He pulls away slightly, making you look at him. "What? You told me that this wasn't your first-" he stops, reading the glint in your eye and the expression on your face. "You cheeky girl, almost gave me a heart failure." 

You grin cheekily, not quite saying anything whilst you comb his hair. You've found yourself with an obsession. "Leave your hair like this," you say lowly, loving the way it frames his face. 

"But it gets in my way," he grumbles, swatting your hand away. 

"And I like it like this," you counter, going for his curls again, but this time running your nails along his scalp, smirking at his groan. "And I think you secretly like it too." He gives you the side eye, taking your other hand and bringing it to his lips.

[daycourtofficial]

Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - Part 7

Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.

Author’s note: eeeek I’ve had parts of this one in the drafts for AGES the middle section has been drafted for at least a month I swear and I’ve been sitting on it like 🧍‍♀️ waiting to share it. I think this is my favorite part so far (but not my fav overall 🥰)

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Masterlist)

Your day had been shit. Ever since that godsawful date Mor ambushed you with last night, you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering about Azriel and Nesta’s date. What they were doing, how things were going, if she was making him laugh.

Hell, you couldn’t stop thinking about their date while on your own date. The guy was good looking, and he wasn’t terrible, but there was nothing there between you two.

He also was very into cryptocurrency, a topic that quickly took over the conversation at dinner. A topic you did not encourage him to continue on. He somehow didn’t get that memo, insisting on walking you up towards the doors of your building when he was dropping you off, where you had made a lame excuse about going to bed early before ducking into your building.

You had followed the same path Azriel took only moments ago, continuing on to your own apartment. You open the door, finding a note on the fridge in Cassian’s messy scrawl.

Have fun.

He drew a winky face, and then several crude drawings on the post-it. The drawings made you groan, Cassian’s enthusiasm for your date further solidifying your nonexistent chance with his brother.

Of course Cassian would have Mor set you up after he found out about your little crush on his brother. You felt so stupid when you saw Nesta on their couch earlier today. You hardly spoke to Rhysand on the way to lab, your thoughts too flooded with how terribly you had read the whole situation.

Cassian probably told Mor all about your dumb crush and got her to fix you up tonight. Maybe Azriel had even mentioned your text to Cassian, asking him what to do about the annoying roommate who developed a crush on his brother.

Your chest hurts, but it was just a silly crush. You’ll get over it.

Eventually.

-

Azriel stood in the elevator, waiting for the doors to close as he looked at his phone, looking at the last message you had sent him Friday morning.

Wanna grab lunch tomorrow?

He hadn’t answered, his phone having been on silent all day to focus on finishing his work for the next week and the reception in the library not allowing messages to come through. He hadn’t seen the message until he woke up this morning, the timestamp seeming cruel.

Now he stares at it and wants to throw his phone. Missed opportunities, he supposes. But what would this lunch have looked like since you’re dating that dickhead from last night? Would you have had to reject him outright?

He can see your face contort in a smile as you tell him, “oh no, Az, I’m seeing someone.” Then you’d probably laugh about it with the dickhead.

He runs his hands down his face when he hears someone yelling, “hold the elevator please!” He juts out an arm on instinct, not noticing who it is. He sees you slip inside, the doors bumping against his arm, bringing him back to reality as he looks down at you.

Fuck.

A light scent of oranges fills the elevator, and he notes it’s likely from your shampoo. He pulls his arm from the door, allowing them to close, locking the two of you in the metal box.

You look up at him, eyes going wide, cheeks heating in embarrassment at the close proximity. You’re standing right in front of him, and you can smell his cologne, a scent of night-chilled air and cedar filling your nose. You take deep breaths, telling yourself that it’s okay, it was just a little crush.

On a very pretty, smart, and very kind guy.

Who smelled incredible.

You look down at your feet, unsure how to speak to him now that you knew he was dating Nesta. And not wanting to further embarrass yourself by flirting with him.

Gods, this was how you were going to die, you think, shuffling to lean against the rail. Azriel’s voice puts a halt to the spiraling of your thoughts.

“Nice date last night?” Azriel asks, trying not to let whatever he’s feeling bubble up. Your eyebrows shoot up, unaware of Azriel even knowing about your date.

Of course he knows, you think, Cassian probably told him he’d handle it.

“He spent the while night telling me about stocks and crypto and how he wants to be in Forbes 30 under 30,” you scoffed, “so no, it was not nice.”

The elevator starts moving, and his eyebrows shoot up. “So that wasn’t your boyfriend?”

You scoff, “hell no. Mor ambushed me yesterday. She told me to get dressed up and we’d go out and have a fun girl’s night, but when I showed up she texted me that she set me up instead.

“The worst part is Mor was so confident that she told Cassian about it, so he had stayed at her place last night to give me ‘privacy’. He even left crude drawings around the apartment to help the ‘atmosphere’.”

Azriel laughs as the elevator dings for the third floor. He feels his chest lighten, knowing you definitely weren’t seeing anyone. “Mor’s always been ambitious, hasn’t she?”

You laugh. “Maybe it was just a ploy for her to have sex with Cassian.”

You say it, but you know it’s not true. The real truth was they wanted to put you out there, help you get over the beautiful man standing next to you. They knew you didn’t have a shot, especially compared to Nesta. You’re brought back to reality, and decide to hurt yourself further.

“How was your date with Nesta?” You ground out, after a pause in your conversation. You needed to know so you can completely cut off your feelings for him. You needed him to pierce you with the final dagger.

His eyebrows arch up, and he looks at your expression.

Were you upset? You won’t meet his gaze, and you’re clenching your fists. Were you - jealous?

His mouth curls up at the thought, “uh it wasn’t a date. Nesta and I study together every Thursday night. We take a lot of the same classes. We did it last night instead because she was busy on Thursday.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise, “so you’re not dating Nesta?”

He laughs, “absolutely not. No that’s an avenue I’d never go down. But there is some-“

His words die as you hear a screeching sound and the elevator stops completely, leaving you two stranded somewhere between the first and second floors.

“No - no, no, no.”

You start freaking out - elevators always gave you a bit of concern, their small dimensions making you feel cramped. You hit the button to open the door, jamming it with your finger. Realizing that it was fruitless, You pull out your phone only to remember that the elevator always has no service.

“Fuck,” you mumble, and your breaths start coming faster and faster, and you’re trying to remember your calming techniques, when you feel cold hands gently grab your cheeks.

“Hey, look at me.”

You look up, finding hazel eyes looking back at you. They’re etched with concern, not a trace of mockery in them.

“We’re okay. Breathe with me, can you do that?”

He grabs one of your hands, placing it on his chest so you can feel his breaths as they come in and out. Your eyes stay trained on his, not wanting to look away, wanting to get lost in the gold flecks you find there.

You start following the rhythm of his breaths, but he keeps talking to you in a soothing tone. You’re too focused on breathing to register what he’s saying, but you do register the soothing tone he’s speaking to you in. You could get lost in his voice, its deep timbre a melody in your ears.

Eventually you come back down enough to focus on what he’s saying and he’s telling you about his night - everything he did yesterday.

“Rhys texted me to get some trash bags on my way in, which is where I was coming from when I pulled up and found you with crypto douche.”

You smile, your first real reaction to his words since the elevator stopped.

“There she is,” he says, his finger tapping your cheek, “wanna tell me more about crypto douche?”

“He wants to be a landlord.”

Azriel snorts, “of course he does.”

“I didn’t even want to go on this date,” your eyes stay locked with his, the golden flecks calming you down. “But Mor has been begging me to go out with this guy for ages, and then she finally decided to ambush me by forcing it on me.”

“You know you can tell Mor “no”. It’s a complete sentence.”

“I know,” you sigh, “but she loves playing matchmaker, even though she’s awful at it. Usually once every other month I let her set me up, but she was just throwing a tantrum I wouldn’t let her set me up this time once I figured out the rouse.”

He doesn’t let himself linger on the fact that you haven’t let her set you up since meeting him. Coincidence, maybe. “Have any of them been successful?”

You blow out a breath, “uh, no. Usually I stay for an hour then leave. None of them have ever gotten a second date.” You pause, thinking. “In the words of the great philosopher of our time, “I’m a pathological people pleaser,” you chuckle.

“And who said that?”

“…. Taylor Swift.”

He looks at you, a chuckle on his breath, such tenderness in his gaze it shocks you a bit. “You should stand up for yourself more.”

“I’m… not really sure how. It’s kind of new to me.”

You look at your feet, but he taps your chin so you’ll look at him again. “I stood up to my parents, and it was the scariest thing I’ve ever done.”

You had tiptoed around the topic since your admission to Cassian the day you moved in, the wound still too raw to discuss with anyone other than Feyre. Mor knew some of the details, but not the whole story. You’re sure Rhys and Az knew that something happened with your parents, but you never let them know too much about it.

They didn’t know that your parents had told you that you became everything they had tried to avoid. That, despite everything they did for you, you didn’t turn out right.

You hadn’t told Mor because you knew she would have burnt down their house with them in it.

“It was scary, moving here with a guy I hardly knew.” His grip on you tightens slightly, and he’s hanging onto every word you say.

“But I don’t regret it. Not even when Cassian wakes me up at 6 AM with his singing.”

He chuckles, and he stills as you look into his eyes, your voice clear and strong.

“I don’t… I don’t regret any of it. I don’t regret meeting you.”

His hands are still cupped on your face, his face mere inches from your own. Your confession hangs in the air as you two look at each other, and he leans closer, pressing his forehead to yours.

Your breathing hitches, but not because you’re stuck.

He opens his mouth to reply, but the elevator comes back to life, moving downwards again. It startles both of you into jumping away from each other, and you clear your throat.

“Where are- where are you going?” You ask, gesturing towards his helmet.

“Oh, uh Cassian forgot his lunch and doesn’t have time to grab anything between clients. I was going to bring him something.”

The air is lighter between you two, and Azriel feels like he can breathe you in again. The fog of confusion has lifted between you two, leaving you to be seen clearly by him.

“Do you want to get lunch?”

He echos your previous text message to him, and you nod.

“Yeah I’d love that.”

You stroll through the lobby, putting as much distance between the falter elevator and yourselves. Once you make it to the parking lot, Azriel places his spare helmet on your head, tapping the top of it lightly affectionately.

You zip your jacket up as Azriel gets on the bike first, his thighs straddling the seat. He holds the bike steady, allowing you to place your hands on his shoulders for balance, letting go of your fears as you swing your leg around to straddle the bike behind him. Your body leans against his, wrapping around him, holding onto him.

You place your head on his back, your fingers clutching onto his jacket. It feels new, electricity crackling through every inch of you that is in contact with him, despite the layers and helmets that separate you.

He chuckles at the gasp you let out when you two start moving, how your hands hold onto his jacket a little tighter than before.

He pulls a hand away to place it gently on one of the hands you have clutched to his jacket, squeezing three times before moving his hand back.

[adnauseum11]

Non- Mission Essential (John Price x Reader)

John owes Kate a dinner and makes good on his promise. You are introduced to people from John's work life.

3k words

CW: swearing

This work is part of the S.N.A.F.U series, the Masterlist is pinned to my blog

The restaurant is based off a real one that exists elsewhere in the world. It's a sumptuous affair so it's sprawled over two chapters.

If it wasn't clear that I grew up before cell phones, this chapter should solidify that. I'm roughly the same vintage as John and can confirm life before caller ID and knowing who is calling.

Feedback welcome!

The evening is lit up by streetlamps by the time you arrive at the Chop House for dinner, the cold air heavy with threatening snow. The sidewalks gleam wet under the streetlamps and headlights of the passing traffic. John looks dapper in a dark grey three-piece suit, the tie and handkerchief patterned with a deep green that compliments your dress. You had smugly assumed John would be the problem tonight, his gaze heating every time he caught a glimpse of velvet stretched over your curves as you got ready.

He had been preoccupied with getting himself dressed so he had missed your initial lingerie selection, a strapless bra and no panties – the dress too tight for anything else without showing lines. Not much escapes the big man’s notice but you are thankful that seems to have flown under his radar, although with his inclination to be handsy with you, you wonder how long your luck will hold. As it turns out, however, the tailored lines of his suit keep drawing your eye, distracting you completely. His broad shoulders fill out the jacket like it was molded to his measurements with exacting precision. He’s caught you out twice so far, not paying attention at all to what he’s saying, wrapped up in fantasies that glaze over your eyes. The second time he smiled deeply, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he gently jolted you out of your X-rated daydream to put your high heels on. You’re wearing a long black pea coat over your dress, the velvet doing a decent job of keeping your legs warm as you step out into the cool night air.

You share a secret smile with him when he helps you out of the car, the valet waiting for the door to close behind you before taking the car to be parked. You have butterflies in your stomach, wanting to make a good impression on these women. John spoke highly of both of them, although he’s only worked with Kate. His presence is soothing, an anchor to your tumultuous anxieties. You run your hand over the front of his jacket, unnecessarily smoothing his lapels down, letting your eyes wander over the material wrapped around his deltoid.

“If you don’t stop looking at me like that-”

John’s voice is pitched low, for your ears only, but he gets cut off by someone calling his name. You’re slightly disappointed you don’t get to hear the rest of the threat, John’s hand landing low on your back, steering you forward.

“Kate. Michelle.”

A pair of women step towards you, one dirty blonde with shorter hair and the other slightly taller, wearing her dark, thick, curly hair slicked back, gathered into a high bun at the top of her head. It creates a halo effect, framing her face beautifully. John greets them both with brief hugs before introducing you first to Kate, the blond, and then her wife, Michelle. Kate has no jewellery aside from a wedding ring that you can see, but Michelle has golden hoop earrings that complement her honey skin and her matching wedding ring. As John advised earlier you forgo air kisses for shaking hands with them both, Kate’s grip is firm where Michelle’s is gentle.  

“Shall we?”

Kate asks, her accent not as twangy as you had anticipated. John leads the way, holding the door open for your group as you file in behind him. You hand your coat over to the attendant at the coat room, waiting for the rest of the group to do the same. Kate is wearing a suit herself, a dark blue with black silk lining the slim lapels and a crisp black button-down shirt. Michelle is wearing a retro off the shoulder A-line cocktail dress, thick pleats of navy-blue fabric gathered around the waist of the skirt creating a classic feminine silhouette. A chunky gold necklace matches her earrings and catches the subdued lighting.

“Oh, I love your dress!”

Michelle says as she turns to rejoin you after handing over her own coat. You feel heat crawl over your cheeks, shooting a look at John before thanking her and telling her you were just admiring hers. John looks smug, and his hand resettles on your lower back, sparking the low simmering desire in your belly. A part of you knows you will never be able to wear this dress again without thinking of him, buried deep inside you and telling you he thought of you wearing it when he was alone, off working somewhere in the world. John’s warm hand stays on your lower back, a tactile reminder of those recent erotic memories until you reach your table, when he pulls your chair out for you.

The restaurant is styled in classic old-world opulence, the wingback chairs wrapped in leather and the table tops made of marbled quartz.  Kate repeats the gesture for Michelle, pulling out the chair opposite yours for her to sit. John and Kate exchange a look you don’t understand before taking their own seats. John sits beside you, looking like the cat that got the cream. Kate notices as well.

“You’re looking well John.”

John looks up from the drink menu, casting an assessing eye over Kate before responding.

“Been resting up at home the last few days. Are you looking forward to getting home soon, Michelle?”

John redirects the conversation, and you smile to yourself. You know better, his definition of ‘resting’ in this context broad enough to include making dinner every night and doling out regular toe-curling orgasms.     

“The townhome Kate’s work puts us up in when we’re here is starting to feel like home. It’s the weather I can’t get used to. This wet cold is the worst.”

Both Kate and John make sounds of agreement, but you’ve never been anywhere with any other type of cold. Isn’t snow just frozen water?

“What’s a dry cold? How is that better?”

You venture and John turns to answer but Kate beats him to it.

“A wet cold means you have to dry out first before you can warm up. Dry cold doesn’t have the moisture in the air.”

“Doesn’t get in to your bones in the same way, love.”

John adds. Kate’s face softens for a brief moment before she carries on. Her delivery style is no-nonsense but kind.

“You only really get dry cold in places with low precipitation.”

You already know better than to ask how they know this, assuming it’s something learned first-hand. You’re realizing, not for the first time, that there is a significant part of John’s life that you aren’t privy to. Silently you wonder if Michelle is equally left in the dark about her wife’s work life.

“Is it a dry cold where you live then?”

“Washington gets its fair share of precipitation but it’s nothing compared to this country. It’s a good thing the rental comes with umbrellas ‘cause we didn’t pack any.”

Michelle answers you, and you smile at her quip, agreeing that they’re more necessity than accessory here. The waiter stops by, delivering the menus and water. John looks at you for your drink order so you don’t have to raise your voice across the table and you ask for a glass of full-bodied red, letting John choose on your behalf. Kate notices everything, her vigilance reminding you somewhat of John’s inability to relax in crowded spaces. John orders himself a single malt whiskey and your glass of wine and Kate orders a gin and tonic but Michelle sticks to water which elicits a remark from John.

“Rough night last night?”

“No, we have a Doctor’s appointment tomorrow. Trying to keep the system primed. Want it to take this time. As much as I love our semi-regular jaunts across the pond, I’m ready to sit a few out.”

“You complain about not having direct access to Gregg’s sausage rolls when we’re home for longer than two weeks.” Kate deadpans, unconvinced by her wife’s statement.  

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you, that’s exciting.”

John ignores Kate, and Michelle rewards his discernment with a smile. He turns to you and explains the doctor in question is a fertility doctor which crystalizes your understanding of the conversation.

“That’s very exciting! Congratulations, I hope it works out for you tomorrow. You must have a generous boss to let you travel as much as it sounds like you do.”

Michelle grins, her excitement palpable.

“Thank you, I’m nervous but looking forward to it. As far as bosses go, I own my own consulting business; I do environmental data analysis so I can work from anywhere and generate my reports. I have some university students who work in placements doing the data collecting and then we assimilate it and generate a report.”

“Oh, that’s interesting!”

“Yes, and varied, each project is a new challenge. I love it.”

“She’s highly sought after in the area, there are a lot of National Parks nearby. A lot of businesses have to do impact studies if they’re operating in or near the parks.”

Kate clarifies for you, pride bleeding into her tone.

“Well, that’s lovely, built in clientele. Is that how you two met?”

Michelle tips her head back and laughs as her wife turns slightly red, but smirks nonetheless.

“No, we met in a bar in Annapolis, her boyfriend at the time was being an asshole and I de-escalated the situation.”

Kate supplies, and you suspect that’s not entirely true given Michelle’s bout of laughter. Once she’s calmed herself, she colours in Kate’s bare bones explanation.

“I was dating a man who had a delicate ego-“

Kate scoffs but holds her tongue when Michelle shoots her a look.

“-and he didn’t like that I was thinking of quitting my job at the time to start this business. He didn’t think I could make a go of it and was going to blow my life savings. Kate listened to him berate me for about ten minutes at the bar before she brought her beer over and joined us, without asking, and proceeded to counter every negative thing that man said with a potential positive. You should have seen his face. She talked me up so much I ended up leaving the bar with her that night and broke up with him the next day. I’d never dated a woman before but the confidence was so sexy, I was like a deer in the headlights. Couldn’t look away. Still can’t.”

“Aw! that’s the definition of sweeping you off your feet-“

Kate changes the topic you before you can comment any further, clearly uncomfortable with being the object of praise.

“So, how did you and John meet?”

“Oh, nothing as romantic as that. John was mates with a boy I was seeing at the time.”

It’s John’s turn to scoff but unlike Kate he doesn’t hold his tongue, adding his two cents to the story.

“Boy is right, his mouth was writing cheques his ass couldn’t cash.”

“John.”

You admonish gently, more to keep him from getting worked up about something that happened over two decades ago than anything. He sits back, gesturing for you to continue as the waiter returns with the drinks. You wait until John requests some more time with the menus before continuing, taking your wine out of his outstretched hand smoothly as you speak.

“John found out his mate had been harassing me after we broke up. Following me home from school. Waiting for me outside shops, not taking no for an answer when I told him to leave me alone. Repeatedly calling my home and asking for me even after I told him I was done. Making my life a general hell. John caught him bullying me on the way home one day after he got back from basic training. He’d been hanging around waiting for his mates to let out from school and watched my ex badger me down the lane. John got into a fist fight with him about it. Broke his cheekbone. The ass left me alone after that but John gave me his number in case he started following me around again and we stayed in touch after that.”

John sips his whiskey, seemingly satisfied with your version of events. Kate is clearly not, however.

“How come you weren’t charged with assault? None of that is in your transcript. If the MP’s got wind of it, it would have been.”

Kate asks, clearly mystified. You can’t help but note that she’s read John’s transcript and wonder what else she knows about his life.

“The lad’s parents were convinced that the natural consequences were better than their son standing trial for a stalking charge that had multiple eyewitnesses.”

“Who convinced his parents?”

It’s your turn to ask, never having considered that part before and John slides you an even look before he answers.

“My father.”

“Ah. Well, that tracks.”

John hums in agreement with you and Kate looks from you to John and back again.

“Sounds romantic to me.”

Michelle offers and you can feel heat creeping over your face again. You had been given a front row seat to a bloody and painful exchange; it had never occurred to you to think of it as romantic. Heroic maybe, but you had attributed that to your gratefulness of having the harassment finally put to a stop.

“John was just doing the right thing. We stayed mates for years after that. We only started dating a few months ago.”

You explain to Michelle but the back of your mind is now trying to rehash the past for clues of John’s feelings. Was it romantic that he beat up your ex? As if the man in question can read your racing mind he reaches over and rests a big hand on your tense thigh, his thumb stroking over the velvet in tiny circular motions. The distraction works and redirects your attention to the present moment in time to catch Kate’s words.

“Sounds like John. Can’t watch a situation go sideways without mixing in.”

She’s looking at John with the hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. The man beside you doesn’t argue, raising his whiskey in salute to the dirty blonde.

“So, you’ve known each other for a while then?”

Michelle gets the conversation back on track, her eyes bouncing between you and John.

“Oh lord, yes. I couldn’t have been more than 15 or 16 when all that went down? Put me right off dating for a while. My brother would tease me that I’d be a spinster.”

“You have a brother? What was he doing when you were being harassed?”

Kate is indignant on your behalf which is endearing, considering you barely know the woman.

“He thought it was funny. He’d answer the phone and tell me it was one of my girlfriends to get me to pick up. He’s younger than me, so thought it was all a good laugh to see me scared. My parents thought it was just teen drama and told me to sort it out myself. They both worked and weren’t around much.”

John’s hand squeezes your thigh before retreating, a comforting warmth rolling through you at his easy familiarity in front of his friends. You shoot him a smile as the waiter returns to the table to take orders. Unsurprisingly, John makes the most of this opportunity and orders a porterhouse steak. You and Michelle both order smaller servings of filet mignon, and Kate surprises you by requesting a lobster and steak combo. The women seated across from you exchange a glance, Michelle clearly wanting to say something about Kate’s ambitious selection. You hide the smile that wants to erupt behind a sip of your wine at the unspoken conversation happening across the table.

“How’s your wine, darling?”

John’s eyes are on your hand, wrapped around the stem of the wineglass you are holding aloft. You’ve painted your nails a deep red, matching your lipstick, the contrast against the green of your velvet gown eye-catching. You finally let the smile that’s been threatening to creep across your face loose, John’s distraction a small victory as far as you’re concerned.

“Very good, French this time?”

You ask, his interest in all things food and drink related an endless source of fascination to you. You suspect it’s partly due to the military food he’s been eating for half his life that drives his taste to the more refined when he’s given a choice. You trust his judgement and he’s rarely steered you wrong.

“Spanish, small vineyard.”

Kate’s new line of questioning interrupts your reply to John.  

“So, you have a younger brother, what about your parents? Are they still together?”

You feel your heart drop, even though you’ve fielded this question many times over the years. It never seems to get any easier for you, nor have you developed a simple way to gloss over the loss to make it more palatable. You set the wineglass down on the table while you take a breath, forcing the smile that was stretched across your face back in to place.

“Yes, they were killed by a drunk driver in a head on collision. I’m told it was instantaneous.”

Michelle’s gasp has the smile slipping but you rally, John straightening up in concern at your side.

“Shit – I’m sorry-”

Kate tries to apologize but it’s your turn to interject, waving her concern off.

“No, it was years ago now. It’s fine, I just never know how to casually slip that in when it comes up. I’m going to freshen up before dinner arrives, excuse me, won’t you?”

Your heart is thrumming against your breastbone as you stand up, John half out of his chair before your palm on his shoulder stops him. You just need a moment alone to take a few deep breaths and recenter yourself. John’s concerned hovering will only muddy your waters.

“It’s alright, I’ll be right back.”

You reassure him quietly, your voice thin against the sudden wave of emotion. Your fingers squeeze the broad muscle of his shoulder before weaving your way across the large room to the bathrooms. You don’t have to look behind you to know John’s eyes are following you, you can feel the heat of his gaze on your back sending pinpricks of awareness through you.

Next Chapter

Ao3

Taglist:

@beebeechaos @cadotoast @syoddeye @writeforfandoms

@itr-00 @chloepluto1306 @batw3nch @magsmagic

@h0n3y-l3m0n05 @chickennn-soupp @fruitymoonbeams-blog

@redwites @glitterypirateduck @tf141gloryhole

[lemotmo]

Bless her heart 🫠

Q. From a PR standpoint what would be the purpose of the official 911 account responding directly to so many comments hinting at Buddie? And gay/queer Eddie?Isn't that highly unprofessional? It's not like they don't have audience members who don't want to see them together.

Q. I'm sorry but Ryan and Oliver are just cringe. I get it they like one another and everyone is clearly having fun with mustache stuff but it's officially over done now.

Q. As far as the audience is concerned Tommy is Buck's canon relationship and he is the one they should be pairing with Oliver for promotion. ABC isn't doing anything to discourage the Buddie nonsense and it will backfire on them when the Buck/Tommy relationship is solidified in season 8.

Q. God Oliver and Ryan are going to be insufferable aren't they? Filming runs thru March, ugh. We get it you want your characters to bang. Stop rubbing it in.

Q. Everyone involved in this garbage should be ashamed. Buddie is not canon and until it is no one, especially the shows PR, should be leaning so heavily into them for promotion.

A. Rip to my ask box 😭. I will say I'm genuinely surprised by the number of comments they directly replied to. The Eddie Mercury one was definitely brow raising. I'm stunned they replied to that comment. That being said though Oliver/Ryan and Buddie was 95% of their entire PR campaign last season and they were the number one show on the network. Number one show in their timeslot. It worked. They're absolutely going to do it again, especially if Buddie is actually going canon this season. And you're correct, anon they're doing nothing to discourage that conversation. Some of their replies are actually only going to fan the flame. But they knew that when they chose to reply. And they replied to them in a way that would make people talk. They know what they're doing. But they do have to be careful. All implications are it's happening. But if they don't do it then t's absolutely queer baiting and it will cost them dearly. But I think they're well aware of that and it's why I don't think that's what's happening here.

Yes there are audience members that don't want them to be canon, but there are far more that do what them to be canon. Oliver and Ryan clearly want it. And they're not cringe, anon. Nearly 22,000 likes in a little under two hours is impressive . That is a quick clip. Their audience likes Buddie. Their audience likes Oliver and Ryan. You all are in the minority. And frankly it's not content for you. Your opinions of it are irrelevant. He's not there, anons. Deal with it. You'll get something small at some point, maybe, unless he isn't coming back at all. But your time is nearly up. You're going to have to settle for your imaginary content for now.

Thank you Nonny!

Ali, how are you holding up? Everything okay? Make sure to drink a lot of water and take a break when you need one. If you need a new keyboard after replying to all of those asks, we can start a GoFundMe for you. We'll make it happen. Trust. :D LOL!

Seriously though, if it all becomes too much, take a break okay? This must be a lot to handle.

Yeah, the social media team never really interacts all that much. They did now. That must mean they were told to interact and hype up the viewers. Another way of promoting the show.

But I do agree that they need to pull through with Buddie after all of this and all of the Buddie promo they did last season. There is no way back after all of this. I have no doubt that they will pull through though. It's glaringly obvious at this point that is where the story is going.

Buddie has been around for 6 seasons now. It has drawn in a big audience. Even the more casual fans of the show would like to see Buddie happen. The BT fandom is very small and most people of the general audience have already forgotten about Tommy, but they haven't forgotten about Eddie. They have eyes and see the same things we see. They can draw the same conclusions. They just aren't as openly passionate about it as we are.

Season 8 is our season.

IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[brucewaynehater101]

Inspired by "Jason adopts Tim" fics on AO3, prompts by puppetmaster13u & others on here and that one AO3 fic where because Bruce told Jason pre-death he can take whatever is his and Robin is his it's fair game to nab Tim and the AO3 News Article fic where Red Hood decides the best revenge is tricking the world into thinking he's the Third Robin's dad, some of your posts—

—and my love for inhuman folks

Jason resurrects and he isn't human anymore. Dealer's pick on what he is precisely but he has become much more wary of just how fragile the lives of humans are

How fragile his own life may still be

+ he's got trauma piled on top of his fresh instincts and confusion on what happened after his death

Thus when carving his place as Red Hood, he is more vigilant in making Crime Alley a place where people don't just survive, but live and maybe even thrive.

Putting down threats like predators for good in death. But doing so too much will get Batman breathing down his neck

So he takes some inspiration from Batman after his death and before Tim to inflict some fates worse than death, and rubs it in the Bat's face whenever they face of against each other. "It's not killing B"

He tries—and due to trauma—fails to bring himself to kill Joker. Which crushes him with every crime the Joker (that he in a fucked up sense allowed) commits onwards

Onto the next best thing, acquiring wealth and asking for public donations all over Gotham to build up a sufficient bounty on Joker's head to draw in the most competent killers of them all

Whoever can kill and bring the Joker's remains as evidence gets the money, and the bounty price builds up over time

He'll even add more to the bounty time to time

Jason overworks himself on his Crime Alley to the point his own men compare him to a more benevolent Batman, one who doesn't need an emotional support child

"Could you elaborate on that? I had to spend time out of Gotham for a time and don't know what happened during that span of time"

Batman gave Robin to another

But he didn't revoke Jason's ownership, did he?

Humans are oh so fragile

He knows from experience

In classic not-human logic, that makes the new Baby Bird his now, no? Especially with Batman so incompetent as to depend on him

Titans Tower is not found with Tim bloody and broken

Titans Tower is found without Timothy Drake, and countless leads implicating several yet all seemingly frame job dead-ends

Penguins and Red Hood and Luthor. Joker and Two-Face and beyond

Red Hood is found in a meeting room by his men with a Third Robin—the Robin the city owes guilt and more to—in the Crimelords arms

"B always said that I could take what's mine whenever I want, and he never said it never extended to his . . . My kid. He's mine now . . . "

Words spreads in Gotham City. It spreads indeed

It's fitting, it's fitting. Inheritor of another's name, this Robin, this Red Hood is

Joker Junior and every other tragedy only solidifies Jason's resolve to keep and care for the kid

It's funny. Jason has barely felt human since he woke up from death, since he started overworking himself for his people

Now, with a baby brother in his life? With somebody to care for under his roof? Those domestic times he swore were killed alongside the Second Robin?

This is bliss

Jason feels a weight off his chest when his Merry Men sends a message that the Joker is dead, and the bounty has been sent to the killer

When Jason discovers the Fourth Robin, too dead and revived? when he finds her alive at all? Girl is getting snatched and doted on, especially if he finds her after she's had her baby

And I wouldn't be surprised if he tracked down her kid so she could have raise her baby herself and provided all the resources and support nessecery for it

[Daughter and grandchild acquired!]

When Damian comes and the Robin mantle is passed down onto him— yoinked by Jason again!

Damian is fuming because he wasn't told that this was part of being Robin!

=======

"If you're right that Batman is trapped in the timestream, that everyone is wrong about him being dead, before presenting this to the Justice League I think this should be a family discussion.

"Because I know otherwise I'd do everything in my power to let him die for real. Ensure nobody is the wiser that Bat could've been saved.

"And at least one of the Bats will disagree with me. And this is a scenario where everybody needs to have their input accounted for."

Oooh! All of this is fantastic, but I especially love the end.

The end combines a healthier approach to the BruceQuest with a trope I love: leaving Bruce in the timestream because fuck that guy. Regardless of what they decide, I'm glad Jason at least indicated it was an option.

I wonder where Dick and Cass are in all of this. I'm also curious about how Jason would react to the We Are Robins movement. Does he adopt every Robin or just those acknowledged by Batman?

[moonlight-prose]

✧ LOVE BETWEEN ✧

a/n: i am iffy about this fic as a whole. last night writing wise wasn't the best for me and my mood has been...oof. but i will forever love cassian so much. so i couldn't fully skip this day without finishing his fic. i need to write so much more for him and the wips in my drafts are screaming. so i guess it's time for a rewatch of andor! i hope you enjoy my loves. (also the gif has me frothing at the mouth).

day nineteen - dry humping | kinktober 2023

summary: "there remained an unspoken pull between the two of you that kept you tightly wrapped around one another. your souls knotted so tight there was no undoing what had been solidified. the unspoken future you had always planned."

word count: 1.4k+

pairing: cassian andor x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, dry humping, fluff and angst, cassian being head over heels.

There remained an unspoken pull between the two of you that kept you tightly wrapped around one another. Your souls knotted so tight there was no undoing what had been solidified. The unspoken future you had always planned. More often than not, he found himself in your home. Seeking out the pleasure of your company as you both drank the shittiest caf in existence, but it was all you could find.

He would tell you the goings on around town, the things you might have otherwise missed, and you’d speak to him about your dreams. What you wanted to strive for, what life could be like if the Empire wasn’t currently destroying everything. You spoke about anything and everything, divulging things to each other that felt too private to tell anyone else.

Tonight he sat on the shitty couch, jacket discarded onto your separate chair, and eyes tracking your every movement as you fluttered around in the kitchen. The scent of your caf wafted through the house. Burnt and bitter and familiar. You poured some into his mug before heading over to your spot beside him. The blanket already pooled around his waist.

“How is Bix?” you asked, feeling him shift to face you better as you settled, dragging the rough fabric up around your legs.

He shrugged, taking a sip and wincing at the taste. Yet another familiar movement. “She and Tim are…”

“Complicated?”

He huffed a laugh, eyes shifting to meet your gaze. “You could say that.”

“He loves her.” You set the mug on your small table that tilted slightly. “It’s obvious.”

Cassian’s voice came softer, eyes tracing the curve of your body as the blanket slipped down a bit, revealing the curve of your breasts in your top. “He does,” he murmured, fingers tightening around his mug when you shifted even closer. The air between the two of you, now warm.

Silence filled the space, laying over you like a different kind of blanket. One that offered softness, comfort. A place where you knew you could be yourself and voice what you wanted out of life. Cassian felt the same. He sunk into the couch, sipping on the caf still despite its awful flavor; a gesture that warmed your heart. The nights were a time you looked forward to most. When you could finally relish in the presence of the man you’d loved for as long as you could remember.

But to Cassian you were a friend.

Simply the person he sought out when he needed someone to make him feel like his feet were firmly planted on the ground. He wasn’t the greatest friend and he knew that. He knew that he oftentimes brought more trouble than necessary, but with you he laid his troubles by the door as if they were a coat to be hung. Something he would pick up on his way out. In order to keep that smile on your face. The joy that pressed into his chest, filling him with a feeling that he found himself running from most days.

Yet when it came to you…he didn’t want to run anymore.

You didn’t notice him setting his mug on the table, too invested in the paper beside you, something scribbled on it. “I forgot to tell you—”

Grasping the back of your neck gently, he dragged you closer, his lips finding yours and drawing out a sharp gasp from your mouth. It was a meager attempt to display those feelings that ate away at his heart. Something to show you that he came here each night for a reason. You. He came to hear your laughter, to drink your shitty caf, and watch you light up at his stories.

He came to feel the warmth of your love on an otherwise cold planet.

Seconds passed and for a moment he worried you didn’t want this. That he’d overstepped his boundaries and pushed the limit of your friendship too far. Your hands sliding into his hair and dragging him closer put a stop to those thoughts instantly. A soft moan echoed in the back of your throat, punching the breath from his lungs as he practically climbed over you. His hand grasping onto your waist, sliding your leg over his hip.

“Cas—”

“I’ve wanted to do this for years,” he mumbled breathlessly, shifting to pull you up into his lap, until your knees were pressing on either side of his hips, chest pressed to his. “Ever since that fucking dinner.”

You laughed softly, fingers tracing his jaw and Cassian forgot how to breathe for that mere moment. “The dinner wasn’t so bad.”

“Bix cooking is never a good thing.”

Another giggle filled the air as you leaned down to steal another kiss. The taste of your caf, so much better coming from your tongue. He found that he didn’t mind the flavor. As long he got to kiss you afterwards. Sucking in a breath, he bit at your bottom lips, hands sliding to grasp at your hips, pushing you even closer until no space remained.

“I met you,” he replied, watching your eyes darken with lust, lips parting when he dragged you over his already hard cock. “The only good part of that night.”

Heat flooded the back of your neck, spilling into your cheeks and overheating your body. Yet you’d never wanted something more in your whole life. He captured your lips in another kiss, hips bucking up to meet yours, a sound being pulled from your chest. Heady and wet. Similar to the way he devoured you. As if you were the only source of life for miles—kissing you until you had no choice but to gasp for air, yanking on his hair to separate yourself.

“I want—oh—” Your clit caught on the seam of your pants, the press of his cock driving you insane as he dragged you across his lap again. A deep moan bubbling up in your throat, eyes fluttering shut when pleasure burst across your senses.

“I want to see you,” he said, chest heaving and eyes dark with need.

“I’m here.”

His lips curled up, grinding into you and watching your face contort, eyebrows pulling together while your mouth dropped open. “No. I want…to see you.”

The meaning registered in your brain slower than you would have liked. Yet once it did, you couldn’t find the words to respond. Each of them more incoherent than the last. He wanted to watch you cum. To witness you at the peak of pleasure, knowing that it was caused by him.

“Cassian,” you gasped, grinding down until sparks shot up your spine. Slick flooded your panties, no doubt soaking through to his pants. You dragged yourself along his lap, arms curled around his neck and lips brushing his as he panted into your mouth.

“Take what you want,” he said hoarsely, helping you guide your movements as he bucked up into you with each shift. “Use me.”

“Maker.”

You went lightheaded. The rush of need plowing through your body as he led you through the movements. Your legs were slightly shaky, eyes squeezed shut and lips scratching along his cheek. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. Cassian held you like you were precious kyber. Something he could one day lose in the middle of terror.

“I’m gonna, Maker I’m g-gonna—fuck Cas—”

Licking a hot trail up your throat, he felt you shudder above him, your cry bouncing off the walls of your house. He watched the bliss wash across your face and wanted to see it again. As many times as you’d permit him. Pressing his hips up and grinding roughly against the seam of your pants, he felt his body lock up—his rough moan pressed to your chest. His cock twitched in his pants, cum soaking through the fabric.

It would get uncomfortable soon, but he had you on top of him, pressing kissing down his neck and sucking on the skin. Drawing out another soft moan.

“That was new,” you said softly, smiling into his shoulder. He chuckled, hands moving to cover your ass. “Although I wouldn’t mind adding that to our nights.”

“Shitty caf and a good fuck?”

You slapped his shoulder, body shaking as you laughed and he couldn’t stop himself from joining. Feeling a type of joy that only came around you. He wanted to lock it in his chest. To remember what this felt like even when he wasn’t there with you. But to Cassian there was no place he’d rather be.

“Perfect,” you whispered, brushing your lips against his, sealing your future with a kiss he felt down to his toes.

[mingtinysworld]

can you please write an imagine where y/n is hongjoong's childhood friend and when they grew up, she ended falling in love with san, because she thinks hongjoong only sees her as his “young sister”, but he gets really jealous and upset seeing her happy without him. 😭

(sorry my bad english, not my native language)

Okkk literally obsessed with this concept omg. Possessive/jealous Hongjoong is one of my fav things ever hehe. Thank you for requesting!!

Look at my heart

Pairing: Hongjoong x fem!reader ft. San

Genre: angst, fluff

Word count: 1.5k

Networks: @newworldnet

“What do you think of San?”

Hongjoong looks up with alarm, his position on your beat up couch stiffening. His voice gets caught in his throat for a second, not exactly knowing what to say. He blinks the daze away and makes hesitant eye contact with you.

“What do you mean Y/n? I barely know him.” He answers timidly.

You know San from your chemistry class that you share with Hongjoong. He sits across the room, and your only opportunity to interact with him is in group projects, which you’re grateful for. San, from what you can tell, is a very passionate and loving person. He loves getting to know people and dedicating his whole self to the people he loves. There’s some kind of spark about him that draws you to him, but you can’t help but needing Hongjoong’s approval.

You and Hongjoong have been best friends for almost your whole life. Your families were very close, so close to the point his parents were practically your parents. You have had countless experiences with him, solidifying your trust and bond with the man. Recently though, you’ve noticed a shift. You can’t figure out what it is though, no matter how hard you try.

“I think I might be interested in San.” You say quietly, as if you’re worried about scaring Hongjoong away.

“I-I mean, I don’t think my opinion really matters Y/n. If you like him, then I’d say go for it!.” He shows you a toothy smile, but not the Hongjoong smile you’re used to. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I just thought I’d ask.” You speak a little too brightly, determined to break the building tension. You let out an awkward laugh and Hongjoong follows you, resulting in a stiff silence right after. Before you can move, Hongjoong beats you to it, declaring that he has plans to attend to, and leaves your apartment leaving you conflicted and confused.

———

The following day as you see him in class, he seems closed off, headphones on and mind in a daze. You decide approaching him isn’t the best option currently, opting to give him space by sitting at a different table. Coincidentally, the table ends up being where San is sitting, chipper as ever.

“Hi Y/n! I’m so glad you get to sit with me today!” He explains excitedly.

The pure joy in his face makes you smile despite the fact that your brain is facing immense turmoil. “I decided to sit somewhere new for a change!” You beam at him. He leans in close to you, and whispers.

“Did you and your boyfriend have a fight?”

Your body freezes and your mouth opens, not sure what to say. For some reason, your breathing quickens, and your nervous system feels attacked.

“He-he’s not my boyfriend. Why would you think that?” You ask cautiously.

“Have you seen the way he looks at you? Plus he also acts like your bodyguard, staring daggers at anyone who dares to approach you. He’s the main reason I haven’t made a move on you yet.” He shrugs nonchalantly, while your body is internally screaming, trying to process the information.

“You…wanted to make a move on me?”

He tilts his head slightly and holds your eyes meaningfully. “Absolutely. I think I would be crazy not to.” He winks playfully and you can’t help but blush. At that moment, you hear a loud chair scraping noise, and look back just in time to see Hongjoong’s agitated retreating form.

You try to ignore it, convincing yourself that he needs space. So you force yourself to turn back to the sunny face of San, and brace yourself for your words.

“San, will you go out with me?”

———

You start going out with San regularly, thoroughly enjoying your time with him. The conflict with Hongjoong has been pushed to the back of your mind, choosing to ignore it in order to not go crazy. You decide that if he wanted to, he would tell you if something was wrong.

You stopped sitting with him in class, a deep fear within that your connection has been severed, and not wanting to bear the consequences. Even though you’re not sure if you did something wrong, you can’t help but feel some kind of guilt deep down.

Due to this guilt, you eventually find yourself waiting in front of Hongjoong’s apartment. You’ve been standing there for at least five minutes, nervously debating whether to stay or leave. Finally, as you raise your knuckles to knock, the door opens abruptly, leaving you startled and like a deer in headlights.

“Y/n you might as well come in. It’s cold outside.” He sighs heavily and lets you in, trailing behind your small form. As you look at his stoic face, you can’t help but tear up, desperately needing to feel the warmth of your best friend.

“I’m sorry,” you say with a sniffle. “I’m sorry for whatever I’ve done to cause this rift between us. All I wanna do is get us back.”

“I don’t.”

“What?” You look up with wide eyes, his face not having changed in the slightest.

“I’m sick of feeling like this, constantly having to bottle up my true feelings, and for what? To just be substituted?” He speaks with a quiet anger, voice barely above a whisper, but you feel as you’re being hit with sharp icicles.

“Hongjoong, I don’t understand-”

“Of course you don’t,” he lets out a bitter laugh, eyes trained on the carpet. “You don’t understand and you haven’t understood all these years.”

“Understand what? Help me understand.” You plead with misty eyes.

At that moment, your phone lights up, showing San on your screen. Hongjoong notices and he immediately scowls, leaving his chair abruptly. You watch him stomp away and reluctantly pick up your phone.

“San? What’s up?”

“I wanted to see what my favorite girl was up to! What do you think of going on a picnic later in the afternoon?” He asks with excitement laced through his voice.

“San…I’m sorry, but I can’t today. I’ve got some…” you look at up and see Hongjoong at his desk, tapping his foot impatiently. “business to take care of.”

San seems to understand, but still can’t help but be disappointed. You say bye to him and hang up with a heavy sigh.

“Hongjoong, let’s please talk about this.”

He reluctantly stands up, returning to his spot earlier, and stares at you intently. “Do you really not know or are you just pretending?” You furrow your eyebrows and shake your head.

“I genuinely have no idea what’s going on.” You admit.

“Y/n, I can’t pretend anymore. It hurts me, just how much I ache for you. You’re all I think about, constantly, every day. I can’t fathom a life where you’re not in it, but seeing you with San is…it breaks me. I question why you don’t see me the same way you do him. We’re best friends, yes, but what best friend does what I do? Everyone else thinks I’m your boyfriend except you. Why are you so oblivious to my love?” He pours out his heart, voice cracking at the end of his sentence.

You’re stunned by his confession, not exactly sure what to say. All you know is that a fragment of your heart is being healed, being filled with a love you didn’t know you were missing. It feels whole suddenly, as if everything you’ve ever wanted has landed in the palm of your hand. You search his eyes for any signs of a lie, but all you see is raw emotion emanating in waves.

“Hongjoong, I didn’t know you felt this way. To be honest, I didn’t even think it a possibility. I thought that if I were to let myself feel what I felt, I would’ve ruined what we had. I locked that part of myself away, refusing to let it come to the surface. But…” You take a deep breath and continue. “Since you feel the same way, I can be free to feel.”

“Y/n, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I love you in the same way. I’ve been so stupid to pretend not to, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.” As the first tear travels down your face, Hongjoong leaps forward to envelope you in a tight embrace. He cradles your head against his chest as you freely sob, letting out your bottled emotions.

“I’m so s-sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel unwanted.” You hiccup as you speak, emotion overtaking you. “I love you, so so much.”

He holds you even tighter, as if afraid you’ll melt away. “I love you and have always loved you. Why do you think I try to scare off any guy who gets close to you?” You let out a laugh, a thick throaty sound.

“Hongjoong, I feel so stupid. I could’ve had you so much sooner.” You whisper against him.

“It’s alright, you have me now.” He sighs into your hair and mumbles by your ear. “However, it’s my first time seeing you cry this much. What a crybaby.” You look up at him with a glare.

“We never speak of this again, got it?” You ask with a playful threat in your eyes.

“Yes ma’am.” He says with a salute. “Now, I get to have you all to myself.” His mouth quirks up as you bite your lip to hide your big grin.

“Alright mister, let’s catch up on this relationship shall we?”

[vodika-vibes]

Hi! Vod’ika! Could I request Dogma x fem!reader with your mermaid AU?💕

Thousand Years

Summary: You know that Dogma loves you, he’s your soulmate and you're his after all, but you know that you’re not like other soulmates, and you hear the comments his brothers make, though you know that they don’t mean for you to hear them. And sometimes you wonder if he would have chosen you if he had the choice.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Dogma x F!Reader

Word Count: 2005

Warnings: Angsty but with a happy ending

Prompt: Mermaid AU

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So, this wasn't supposed to be sad, but I had an idea and decided to run with it. As ever, I want to thank @kimiheartblade @the-bad-batch-baroness @mire-draws-things and @t3mpest98 for helping build this AU.

Adjusting to life as a mermaid was easier than you thought it would be. Honestly, the biggest adjustment for you was having to reteach yourself how to swim with one appendage rather than your legs.

According to the other mates who live around you, none of them had as much of an easy time.

Generally, after that, they’ll toss you an odd, awkward, smile and tell you that you’re just unique and there’s nothing wrong with that.

Funnily enough, it never sounds like a compliment when they say it though. You try not to think about it too much, it’s not like you’re unused to not having friends after all.

And some of the other mates are very…well, calling them shallow would be an insult to puddles. At least you’re polite enough to not tell them that if they were a puddle you could stand in them without getting the soles of your boots wet.

You know if you could wear boots.

You just think it. Loudly.

You’re pulled from your thoughts at the sensation of little hands drumming on your torso, and you cast your gaze on the dark-eyed baby resting on your stomach.

Your dark-eyed baby.

Little Faith has the good fortune to look like her father, though it’s starting to look like she has your personality. Dogma claims it’s because you take her everywhere, you point out that a strong parent-child bond is important for a baby's development. 

Luckily, he doesn’t disagree. And he’s just as guilty as carting baby Faith around rather than leaving her in the care of the nanny shark, so it’s not like he has a fin to swim with.

You smile brightly as Faith blows bubbles at you, and you reach out to lightly tap her little nose. Her brow furrows as she tries to watch your finger, and then she releases a happy gurgling noise.

In truth, you should be home, at the grotto. But Faith likes looking at the coral, and watching the clown fish, so here you are, resting on your back on a rock while the fish swim around the pair of you.

You’re close enough to the mervillage that you can still see the arch that leads to the shopping district, and you can even hear some of Dogma’s brothers if you strain your ears.

Faith lets out a happy shout as a clownfish gets close enough to her to bump into her, and you smile fondly at your baby.

She’s something of a miracle, your baby. It normally takes time for a mate to get pregnant, but you wound up pregnant within two weeks of solidifying the bond with Dogma. And the fact that you have a daughter rather than a son? Even more of a miracle.

Natural-born daughters are rare after all.

Faith twists so she’s able to watch the fish a little better, and you allow your attention to wander. Your hands are secure around her waist, so she’s in no danger of getting hurt, after all.

And that’s when the whispers reach your ears.

“—Dogma’s mate? Her?”

“Yeah, that’s her.” As much as you don’t want to listen in, now that you know that they’re talking about you, you can’t not listen to them.

“I feel bad for Dogma,” The first man says with a laugh that sounds cruel to your ears, “I bet, if he had a choice, he wouldn’t have chosen someone like her.”

You keep yourself from flinching through sheer willpower, though there’s no stopping the hurt that blooms in your chest. Because he’s right. Dogma wouldn’t have chosen you.

You’d choose Dogma in every lifetime, but he’d never choose you if given the choice.

“Come on, he loves her.”

“Because of the bond. And I guess she’s pretty enough, but there’s no way that her looks make up for her personality.” The first man replies, “Anyway, someone as steady as Dogma deserves better than her.”

“Yeah, well. The magic makes that choice, not us. So drop it before she hears us.”

Your gaze flickers to the side as the two men stop talking and swim away.

You feel…heavy. And it has nothing to do with the baby sitting on your stomach.

Faith smacks her hands against you again, and you smile weakly at her, “Want to go on an adventure, Faithy?”

Your baby doesn’t, fully, understand what you’re saying to her. Not really, she’s too young, but she does know her name and she knows your voice, so she bubbles happily.

Some of the weight lifts at the sheer delight your baby shows you when she sees you, and you carefully cradle her in your arms as you kick off the rock and head up.

Your heart hurts and you feel sad. And lonely.

The only person who can make you feel better is your mom. And, as luck would have it, after you became a merperson your parents sold their home to buy a houseboat, so they could stay close to you.

You swim towards the surface, moving carefully to make sure that your baby doesn’t get hurt. It’s hardly the first time your baby has been to the surface, though you know it’s just another reason that people think that Dogma shouldn’t leave Faith alone with you.

Your argument has always been that your parents deserve to know their grandchild. Dogma doesn’t like it, he doesn’t like it when you go to the surface either, but he wants you happy more than anything.

Your parents' houseboat is named after you. They love you and have always been your biggest supporters, even when you told them that you were going to become a mermaid.

They, at least, look delighted to see you and Faith as you pop up next to their home.

You hand Faith to your mother, who sets her in a baby pool they have for this very reason, and she lightly places a sun hat on the baby’s head, while you’re father helps you out of the water and then helps you into the, slightly bigger, pool they have for you.

Your parents know you better than anyone, save for Dogma, so your mother takes one look at you, clicks her tongue, and sits in the pool next to you. She wraps her arms around you and pulls your head to her shoulder to stroke your hair.

And that’s all it takes for you to dissolve into tears as the whole story falls from your lips.

“Oh, my little coral,” Your mom says softly, “Why does it seem like your life is always so much harder than the people around you?” She smooths some of your hair off your face, “You can stay as long as you want. You and Faith.”

“Do you agree with them?” You ask as you press the top of your head against your mother’s neck, “That Dogma deserves better than me?”

“Never.” Your father’s answer is immediate, from where he’s sitting next to Faith and feeding her some mashed apples. “Never, sweetheart. Your man is lucky to have you.”

“You have to say that, you’re my parents.”

“Nonsense. We say it because it’s true.” Your mom kisses your forehead, “You and Faithy will stay for a bit, of course.”

You sniffle, “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

Your mom tightens her grip around you and cuddles you as best as she can as your father starts telling a story about your uncle, giving you an update on the rest of your family. And some more of the weight fades from your heart.

It’s later, when the sun is starting to set, that Dogma emerges from the water next to the houseboat. He easily pulls himself up on the deck, and a relieved smile crosses his face when he sees you sitting in a pool with Faith at your side. 

“Cyare,” 

You turn to look at him, and a weak smile crosses your face. “Dogma,”

“I figured I’d find you here when you weren’t at the grotto. Where are your parents?” He asks as he moves over to the pool and smiles at Faith.

“Inside, they’re getting ready for bed.” You reply as you carefully don’t look at him, you know your eyes are still red, and you don’t want him to worry.

“You didn’t mention that you were coming to see your parents today,” He says lightly, there’s no heat in his words but you curl in on yourself as if he just shouted at you.

“Sorry.”

Dogma is silent for a moment before he reaches out and lightly turns your face towards him, “Riduur, I’m not upset at you. Why are you acting as if I am?” His breath catches when he turns you to face him fully, and slowly he brings his other hand up to cup your face, his thumbs smoothing the skin under your eyes, “You’ve been crying.”

“It’s…not important.”

“It’s very important.” He corrects, “Someone made you cry. Upset you badly enough that you fled to your parents.”

You shrug, “It’s dumb.”

“You are many things, Riduur. Dumb isn’t one of them.” Dogma corrects. He carefully leans in so his forehead is pressed against yours, “Tell me?”

“Someone said something that I know is true and it made me feel…bad. So I came to someplace where I never feel bad.”

“What did they say?”

You don’t answer, don’t want to answer. But his gaze is so earnest, and his hands are so gentle, that your lower lip starts trembling again, “The truth.”

“I highly doubt that, riduur.” His voice is so gentle, that it's easy to forget that he didn’t choose you.

“They said that if you had the choice in picking a mate, that you wouldn’t have looked twice at me.” You reply quietly, “And I know that it’s true.” Your lips twist as you try to keep yourself from crying, “If I lived five different lifetimes, I would choose you in all of them. And you—”

“Would pick you.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

Dogma sighs, his breath warm against your face, “I love you, riduur. And don’t even think of trying to say that it’s because the magic chose you for me.” He says quietly, “The magic chose you to be my soul mate, and I chose to love you.”

“But—”

“There are plenty of platonic soulmates, riduur. And I chose to love you. From the beginning, I chose to love you.” He smooths his thumbs across your cheeks, “You doubt that?”

You close your eyes and lean into his touch, “I know I’m not, really, your type—”

“Whoever made you think that is going to get introduced to my fist,” Dogma interrupts, “I don’t want anyone else. You’re perfect for me. And I’m sorry if I made you believe differently.”

You shake your head, “Not your fault.”

“It is my fault. I should have put an end to those comments, but I didn’t think that they bothered you.” Dogma lightly brushes his lips against yours, “I love you. Always. Forever. In this life and every other.”

You sigh softly, though it’s not an unhappy sigh, “I love you too.”

He chuckles, “Oh, I’ve never doubted that.” Dogma drops one of his hands to scoop Faith against his chest, “Now, are we spending the night?”

You shake your head, “Mom and Dad have to head back to shore early. Better we should leave.”

“Then I’ll leave a note.” Dogma leans in and kisses you one more time, “I love you, Riduur.” He murmurs against your lips, “Despite what everyone else thinks.”

You smile at him, believing his words for the first time today. “I know, I’m sorry for doubting you.”

He smiles, reassuringly, and kisses your cheek, before he drops a kiss to Faith’s head, “Come on, Riduur, let’s go home. I’m going to rip my brothers a new one for making you cry.”

At that, you laugh. And, finally, the last of the weight weighing your heart down fades away, as you’re once again secure in Dogma’s feelings towards you.

[collegetennisoriginstory]

Rayyan to me is a Double Lion. They have a Lion Primary- they listen to their intuition, have a clear sense of right and wrong and their Cause is becoming a professional tennis player. They’re the type of Lion Primary who is adamant about their Cause and as a fellow Lion Primary that’s kind of sexy of them to me. They’re also a Lion Secondary-they are themself and hate to lie, they charge and take things head on.

Tobin on the other hand screams Badger Primary- they care about the community of Cargill and it’s also shown through how they handle Felix. Badger Primaries have a fascinating thing known as “dehumanising” they simply do not view that person as a person anymore (usually when a Badger’s close one hurts them they deal with that by cutting them off, while a Snake Primary wouldn’t struggle with that unless they’re part of their inner circle. Think of it like cutting off a limb and cauterising it to stop the bleeding.) Tobin cares about everyone not just their close ones and that’s shown through their actions. They are a Snake Secondary- adaptive and fluid, improvising when they need to. Their playing style was described as “fluid” and that solidified it for me. 

G seems to be an immature Snake Primary- hedonistic, live in the moment, still trying to find their people, while also being burnt- somehow they are hurt and have burned as a result (they take of themself first and foremost) they however are a Bird Secondary- drawing upon prior knowledge and using their tools in situations.

Sam is a Snake Primary whose Important Person is MC and that melts my heart. They care about MC & Robin and their family. They take to Cargill- not because they’re community but because they’re MC’speople- and have a Badger Secondary of hard work and drawing upon the community for help. Amusingly enough Snake Badger’s are known as the Love Interest sorting which explains why so many people love them.

I hope you liked my theories and sorry for rambling haha😅

OK I don't know if you guys know but I LOVE personality theory in all shapes and forms, so literally when I got this ask I showed it to my gf and she immediately snorted and said I met my soulmate. So, thank you for that.

Long post below.

For folks who are wondering what the hell we're on about, here's a link to the sortinghatchats Tumblr page. Just so we get things out of the way: I absolutely detest J.K. Rowling and her TERF bullshit. Don't Stan for that, and that explains the use of lion/badger/snake/bird.

Anyway, agreed with Rayyan being lion primary—I was struggling with figuring out whether or not they seemed more snake primary or lion primary (because I also do see them protecting their crew to the ends of the earth e.g. their family, their cat, MC if they eventually make their way there...) but I do think that it ultimately makes more sense that they're people who wouldn't sacrifice their ideals/what they think is right.

As for Rayyan being lion secondary, that part is irrefutable. Like what you said:

they charge and take things head on

I think your Tobin typing is spot on, so I won't go into too much there except this:

Tobin cares about everyone not just their close ones and that’s shown through their actions.

and

adaptive and fluid, improvising when they need to. Their playing style was described as “fluid”

are absolutely right. I think Badger-snake combinations really explain Tobin's ability to mov through life with the ease and looseness/ quiet confidence and warmth/kindheartedness that Tobin embodies.

For G, I actually read them more as bird primary than bird secondary, mostly because I think ultimately, G's more concerned with coming up with a framework/system through which they understand the world / life / make decisions, but they're constantly adjusting / adding to that system or framework. Contradictions make them want to tinker and probe, and they're most at ease when things make sense.

I could see bird primary with either snake secondary for G (they wear many different skins) or bird secondary.

For Sam, I think you hit the nail on the head with

Sam is a Snake Primary whose Important Person is MC

and

Badger Secondary of hard work and drawing upon the community for help.

Absolutely adorable. I think that combination might be so popular for love-interests because it's probably the most endearing ride-or-die bestie combination to exist.

[yuriisclumsy]

𝖯𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗎𝖾, 𝙰𝚌𝚝 𝙸𝙸: Honorary Knights

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𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗈𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝗎𝗅𝗒. 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝:2430

Authors note: Sup, how's everyone's day? Amazing as usual I presume? Anywho- I've been trying out this new style of drawing as mine solidifies. Also, I've realized that if I make less drawings with colors these chapters go a lot faster because I can't continue writing if I have an idea for a scene. I NEED to finish the drawing then go back to writing (It's rare if I continue writing after an idea).

A week has passed since I discovered I was in a game.

Sirius helped clear the final temple, returning Mondstadt's elemental flow back to normal after a week straight of work. Paimon and he were on their way to Acting Grand Master Jean to report the good news.

Unfortunately for me, I happen to be walking in the same direction to renew the book I borrowed from librarian Lisa, lest she comes looking for me if I don’t inform her I need more time with it.

Talk about bad luck.

“So, [Name], what’s new? Do you have something interesting to tell us?” Paimon questioned me.

“Nope. Got nothing new,” I did not look at her when I said that.

She stumps her little foot in the air. “What? What about that book you’ve been reading?! Have you not learned anything new after a week of reading it!?” 

“Well, it’s nothing new for you. But it’s new for me. Lost memories, remember?”

“...What is the book about anyway?” She asked instead of responding to me.

“Teyvat’s history. I finished reading it, and I’m getting another one. This one was a very old edition.”

“Is Teyvat’s history that interesting to you?”

“Yes, very,” I nod. “What about you two? Anything else besides reporting back to Master Jean?”

“I wanted to ask them about the teardrop we found in the forest,” Aether responded. “It was left behind by Stormterror, so maybe they know what it is.”

“Good thinking! It could also help us deal with stormterror easier.”

Reaching the Knight's Headquarters, we saw Master Jean who appeared to be talking with someone.

“Look, it’s Jean!” Paimon pointed at her. “Who is she talking to?”

She seems to be talking to a woman. She had a black outfit with purple here and there; her hair a burned-blonde, bangs that rested right above her eyebrows; her face hidden behind a gray mask. 

She spelled trouble through-and-through.

“Don’t know. But I have a gut feeling that she’s no good,” I said, eyeing her with distrust.

“Let’s wait for her to finish,” Sirius said. “We can wait on the side over here. I don’t want to be in the middle of the street.”

As we waited, we saw the frustration from both ends of the party. Jean looked adamant about her position, while the masked woman seemed to be irritated; she looked like she was trying hard to convince Jean to whatever she wanted from her.

I remember this part of the story. Jean gets pressured by a Fatui agent –a Snezhnayan diplomat– Anastasia, to kill Dvalin. Amalia warned me about them: 

“Never. Ever. Trust the Fatui.”

The scary part about that was how she looked dead serious. Before then, I had never seen that side of her. The fact she changed so quickly too… I got nightmares for a month straight; Amalia would come in and tell me how I was a bad friend.

Ahg, I get shivers just thinking about it…  I looked back at two political figures. I’ll trust Amalia and my gut feeling about the Fatui. Note to self: “Don’t talk to the Fatui.”

“Looks like she’s done talking to that person!” Paimon announced. “Let’s go talk to her.”

Jean’s gaze followed the masked woman, face laced with worry. Her eyes then darted towards us as we got in her peripheral view.

“Oh, Traveler, you're back,” she noticed I was with him, “and company… Is she the one you and Amber were talking about?”

“Yup!” Paimon confirmed. “This is [Name], our traveler buddy and official cook!” Her eyes sparkled at the mention of cooking.

I sighed, turning my attention to Jean. I smiled, “It’s a pleasure to meet you Master Jean.”

“Likewise,” she reciprocated the smile.

“Now that everyone is acquainted, Paimon has to ask. Who was that just now?”

“First, I would like to thank you,” she looked at Sirius, “Lisa informed me that the elemental flow is finally stable because of your help, and skill. For that, you have Mondstadt’s gratitude.”

Sirius scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed for getting compliments.

“Is someone getting shy now?~” Paimon teased.

“Leave him alone Paimon. He actually did something, unlike someone.”

“I told you, Paimon is moral support, moral support!”

“Anyway–” Jean intervened before she had to break up a fight, “the aftermath of Stormterror’s last attack is finally settled for the moment. But not the pressure from the delegation, in fact, it has become too big to ignore.”

“Delegation? From Liyue, or Inazuma City?” Paimon asked.

“Snezhnaya,” she paused and then continued, “they choose to follow the god of Cryo. Their envoys go by a particular name: The Fatiu. Heard of them?”

“Are you kidding? They are famous! Wait, infamous is more of the word.”

“Let me guess, the Fatui wants to take Stormterror down, right?” I said fully knowing the answer to the question.

“Correct. I don’t think killing Stormterro will do anyone any good, nor do I think it’s the right action to take. The Cryo god’s Fatui have always coveted the Anemo god’s power.” She had the same worried face I saw when the Fatui woman left, “I don’t believe they have Mondstatd’s best interest at heart.” I nod in agreement.

“Speaking of power…” Sirius began.

“What is it?”

“I have something I need to show the Knights,” he finished.

“Oh? Then let us go inside the Headquarter. We shouldn't discuss important matters…” she looked around, “out in the open.”

Jean led us inside. Before I stepped foot inside her office I stopped. Jean noticed and turned to see if everything was fine.

“Sorry guys, I need to return this book to Lisa,” I said from just outside the office.

“I see,” she understood and said nothing else about it, she knew how Lisa could be when a book was missing. “Before you go, could you do me a favor?”

“Yes. What is the favor?”

“Once you’re done, tell Lisa to come to my office please. We might need her.”

“Okay, I’ll tell her,” Jean closed the door dismissing me. I skipped a few steps to reach the other side of the building faster.

I opened the door to the library and went in. I looked at the front desk only to find it empty.

Lisa’s not there… Maybe she’s over here. I walked through the first floor, but no Lisa in sight.

Not here either… Going downstairs, I ran through the whole floor as there wasn’t anyone in the room, yet she wasn’t there either.

Where is she!? I yelled internally. So, she can miss a day, but we can’t? Talk about unfairness.

“Hi, darling.”

“AHHHHH!” I turned around but managed to slip due to a paper on the floor. “Ouf–! Awo! That hurt…!” rubbing my butt, the voice reached out their hand to help me up. I looked up and saw, the one-and-only, Lisa!

“Oh, dear, are you alright?” I took her hand and responded.

“Yeah, I’m fine…” I lied. My butt still hurts.

“You keep on getting scared whenever I greet you. I’m not that scary to you, am I?” She sounded hurt asking that.

I rolled my eyes. You look harmless, but you’re a rose with pesky thorns… That’s what Amalia has said anyway.

“Of course not, miss Lisa,” I dismissed her. I faked an innocent smile and said, “You look average to me.” 

It looked like an arrow had hit her bullseye in the heart. She was mumbling how cruel youngsters are nowadays, and how, begin quote, ‘her beauty is fading because of her age,’ end quote.

I didn’t mean my comment obviously. I only said that to get back at her for the two times she’s given me a heart attack. She looks young for her age, that’s for sure.

“What are you back here for, returning the book I presume?” She asked me, leaving behind the commentary I made like I never said it in the first place.

“Yes, you see, the one I have is outdated–a century outdated to be precise–of the history of Teyvat,” I explained.

She hummed, “yes, I remember. I found it quite odd that you wanted to read such an old book. Now I know why.” She turned and waved her hand in a follow-me motion, “Come, I know exactly where the newer version is.”

We moved to the section that Amber showed me when I came here last time. Looking at it now, the history section was much bigger than I remembered.

“Here it is!” Lisa handed me a book. “This is the newest version, it came out a year ago.”

“Thank you again, miss Lisa,” I thanked her as I eyed the book.

I wonder what they added.

“Please, this is nothing compared to the work I had to do the past week,” she rubbed her shoulders. “Taking care of the Temples of the Four Winds was more of a hassle than I had imagined.”

We walked up the stairs and stood by the front desk.

“You’re being too modest. Thanks to you and the others, Mondsatdt has one less thing to worry about.”

“Thank you again, sweet-pie,” she smiled. “I checked out the book already, so you’re as free as a bird.”

“Thank you,” I lightly vowed and walked toward the door.

!

I almost forgot!

“Oh! Miss Lisa?”

“Yes?”

“Master Jean asked for you, she is in her office.”

“Ah, thank you for informing me. Now shoo, off you go,” she pushed me out of the library as she herself went out, locking it with a key after she made sure there was no one else inside.

“[Name], if you ever find yourself unable to find a quiet place to read, go to windrise. It was nice weather, and if you’re lucky, you’ll hear the soft strumming of a lyre.”

“Thank you for the advice,” I thanked her for the third time today. I walked out of the Headquarters and made my way to find a place to sit and read.

I can go to Windrise like Lisa suggested, I looked up to the blue, and the sky is clear. Oh! There is a Statue of the Seven there! I can try and obtain powers similar to how the MC did in the game— well, better said how Sirius did. Plus, there is a big space to test out the System.

The air near the sea is the best… I breached in the air.

I basked in the atmosphere underneath the massive oak tree, the symbol of Mondstadt’s hero – Vannessa.

The trail from Mondstadt City to Windrise was perfect. Not a single monster interfered, with a few slimes that minded their own business when I passed by. It was a bit strange, since I remembered they attacked on sight. But, this is the world of Genshin, some things are bound to change.

“All right, time to get to work. System!”

“I’m sorry, I can’t make a proper analysis at the moment,” Lisa said.

“Huh? But Paimon thought you were able to see some impurities.”

“Correct. But it’s not enough for me to come to a conclusion,” she turned to Jean and Sirius, “give me some time. I’ll take a look through the library's restricted section.”

Jean nods. “I’ll leave all the research to you then, Lisa,” she looks at the outlanders.

“I’ll notify you all if I make any progress,” she went closer to the crystal, “thought I wouldn’t go getting your hopes up. They are incredibly ancient texts, not to mention—Ouch!” Lisa retracted her hand from the object as the force of the impurities hurt her. “Gosh, that hurt!”

“Are you okay?” Jean worriedly asked, checking her friend from any injuries. The other two were just as concerned.

“Now, now, you three are looking at me like I’m half-dead. I’m fine. The impurities in the crystal…” she looked at it before continuing, “it hurts when I get close…” She hummed in thought. “It appears to react to Visions, repealing it even.”

“What? How can that happen?” Paimon asked.

“I’m not going over the details, if not we'll be here for days-on-end. All you need to know is that the impurities and the elemental energy we embody repel each other.”

“Really?” She looked at Sirius, “then why is he able to hold it?”

“That is a good question, and a question I don’t have the answer to, unfortunately.”

“...” Sirius stayed silent through the whole interaction. What could be in his mind?

“Anyway, the crystal would be better left in the hands of my cutie,” Sirius places the crystal back in his bag. “It will be a pain if left with – both literally and metaphorically.”

“Okay. I will keep it.”

“Fascinating… Do you know anything about what makes you special?” Jean asks Sirius in wonder. He nods in solidarity.

“Well, that's the end of that,” Paimon said.

“Traveler…” Jean called, “the knights of Favonius have another favor to ask of you. Please accept the title of honorary Knight and the gratitude of the Acting grand Master.”

“Honorary Knight…of Favonius?!” Paimon gave Sirius a smirk, “look at you go. You just arrived in Mondstadt and already have a super cool title! Paimon is impressed.” Sirius puffed his chest with pride.

“We gotta tell [Name] once we see her. Oouu, she’s going to make that angry face again, Paimon can just tell!” she says excitedly with a small fire in her eyes when she thinks of your face.

“Then this is a meeting concluded,” Jean dismissed then. “We’ll meet back here if you find anything.”

“Okey-Dokey! Let’s go!” Paimon and Sirius walk out of the office leaving Lisa and Master Jean alone.

“What peculiar little creatures they all are…”

“What are you mumbling about?” Jean inquired after hearing Lisa mumble.

“Oh, nothing. Just complaining about how I haven’t had a proper nap since the incident with stormterror started,” she lied.

“Don’t worry. Soon, we can all rest properly,” Jean reassured.

A little far from the Knight’s Headquarter…

“Okay, we’re far from the knights to hear us,” Paimon stands–floats–in front of Sirius, making him stop. “There’s something you didn't tell them. The boy. The one that communicated with the dragon, kinda hard to miss.”

“I know, Paimon. But I’d like to investigate on my own first,” Sirius explained to her. “And I don’t think he’s a bad guy.”

“So you do remember him,” a boy in green caught her eyes, “he looked just like the guy down there!” Sirius looked at the guy Paimon pointed at.

“The exact same shade of green, what a coincidence. Seems like green is a popular color.”

“See? See? Wait… Hold on a minute… that… that's the same guy!”

“Hmm… looks like him,” he said nonchalantly.

“Stop joking around and let’s go after him!”

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