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lauraneedstochill · 1 year

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My first choice (part 1/2)

summary: Aemond thinks you are way too good to be Aegon’s best friend. But you are enough for the one-eyed prince to fall in love with. pairing: Aemond Targaryen and F!Reader words: ~ 5500 warnings: friends to lovers, slow burn (with very obvious mutual pining), angst, Aegon is a sad boy (but ends up being a pretty good wingman!) author’s note: this is inspired by “Little women” and Amy March in particular. I took the liberty to rewrite some plot lines because to me Aemond is nothing like Laurie (Aegon is ;) and I hate love triangles so we are not having any of that sorry. it’s a bit of a roller coaster so I divided it into 2 parts: the first one explains Aemond’s feelings, the second one is about hers. ✨ part 2

Part 1. How could you be so blind. Aegon knows he’s supposed to be relieved — he never wanted the crown and now that Rhaenyra is the Queen and a feast is arranged in her honor, he should be celebrating. And he may have been hitting the wine way too hard for the past couple of hours, but he can’t pretend to be happy, and he gave up trying to force a smile. It’s ridiculous that he is upset over this, and yet he can’t help but feel horribly useless. The prince drinks one cup after another until the room starts spinning and he can’t even sit straight — and then he suddenly finds himself propped against the wall, sliding under the table instead of sitting at it. Aegon catches a few judgemental glances but at this point, he couldn’t care less. There is only one person whose judgment he is afraid of — and it’s not long before he’s greeted with a displeased remark:

“When I asked you not to swoop too low, I couldn’t imagine you would literally lay on the floor.”

He looks up — and here you are, staring down at him, not even trying to cover up your disappointment. At any other time, Aegon would’ve at least tried to sober up, but today he’s disappointed in himself, too, so he doesn’t make an effort. Instead, he reaches out an arm to you with a lax smile.

“Would you like to join me?”

“I didn’t get the invitation to this pity party so I will pass,” your tone suggests you are not in the mood for jesting. “Now that you’ve succeeded in making a fool out of yourself, would you mind getting upright?”

“I think I like it here,” he retorts, shamelessly staring at the legs of the maids passing by.

“You like wallowing in misery for all to see?” you huff. “Aegon, get up.”

He fakes a whine. “My legs gave out, I’m afraid!”

“You would need to drink all the wine in the castle for that to happen, and I doubt you managed to do that,” you roll your eyes, taking a step toward him — but pause upon hearing a voice behind your back:

“You underestimate my brother.”

Aemond has a habit of sneaking up on people which often startles you yet right now you are too angry at Aegon to be bothered. You throw Aemond a glare over your shoulder but your eyes soften when you see the apologetic look on his face. It’s not the first time that the two of you find yourself in this situation — throughout the years you learned to work as a team: you bring Aegon back to his senses while Aemond helps to physically bring him to the nearest flat surface. You have never asked him for help — and yet he’s always there.

Aemond is about to lean down to help his brother up — you stop the one-eyed prince with your hand, your palm inches away from his chest. Anyone else would’ve thought twice before standing in his way but you don’t hesitate.

“He is perfectly capable to get up on his own,” you reject Aemond’s attempt, your eyes fixed on Aegon. “He can hold onto the wall shall he feel unable to stay on his two feet.”

There is something in your gaze that makes Aegon uncomfortable, piercing him to the bone. You are never downright mean or rude but with just a few words you can easily unmask his feigned recklessness. The prince stands up, tottering and feeling a little light-headed.

“Are you happy, now when I’m in the standing position?”

“If you cared about anyone else's feelings but your own, you wouldn’t be in this position,” you scold him while Aemond takes his brother under the arm to guide him out. Aegon tries to grab another cup of wine but you slap his hand.

“Do you ever get ashamed of yourself?” you hiss at him.

“Let me think... No, why would I?” he sounds sarcastic.

“You should be,” you whisper scream at him. “You can find nothing to do but dawdle and make a mockery of yourself!”

Aemond feels his brother shuddering at your words, and he tightens his hold on Aegon.

“Well, what else am I to do,” his voice is bitter. “Since I am not an heir and serve no purpose to the realm nor do I have any taste for duty.”

You slow your pace, and a sigh leaves your mouth.

“I feel sorry for you, Aegon, I do. I only wish you’d bear it better,” you reach out to stroke his arm but the prince bristles.

“You don’t have to feel sorry for me. Your duty is to marry, and we will see how that goes,” he mutters before he can stop himself — and regrets it the very next second when you swiftly turn to him.

“At least I would be respected if I couldn’t be loved,” your tone hushed but sharp.

Aegon stops dead in his tracks, his wide eyes meeting yours. You moved away from the crowd into the hall, and it becomes silent. And then his lower lip quivers.

“But I thought that you loved me,” Aegon whimpers, his assumed nonchalance instantly gone.

“Oh, Aegon, how much did you have to drink?” you come to his side, lending him a shoulder to cry on. While he’s aggressively sniffling, you look at Aemond and quietly mouth “How many cups?”

“Way more than usual,” he gives you a wan smile, and you groan at his answer, taking Aegon by the arm.

“Alright, you can lean on me. But don’t get handsy or I will push you down the stairs,” your remark earns a weak laugh from the older prince, and the three of you head toward his chambers.

Aegon doesn’t talk much but his mood softens and you exchange a few jokes before finally reaching his room.

“I can take it from here,” Aemond suggests but his brother eagerly protests.

“No, I want to be tucked into bed! And definitely not by you,” he sticks out his tongue, and you chuckle at his whim.

“Aemond, I can handle him.”

The one-eyed prince shoots you a knowing glance and holds the door open for you and Aegon to walk in. You slowly move to his bed, making sure he doesn’t stumble on his way — and then, with a sudden boost of energy, the prince flops down on the fluffy blankets, letting out a satisfied moan. You hold back a giggle and wait for him to crawl under the covers.

“Should I call for the maid to help you undress?”

“No, I am way too comfortable like this,” he pulls the blanket up to his chin, and you sit on the edge of the bed.

“I am sorry for the way I behaved,” he reveals, frowning. “I did not mean to, truly.”

“Aegon, you know I’m not the one you should apologize to,” you take his hand in yours, and he squeezes it with childish eagerness. “You left Helaena all alone. And you promised me you would make an effort.”

“I know, I know,” he yawns. “I was doing better until today, I swear, you should ask her,” his speech becomes incoherent as he is already too drowsy to talk, his cheeks flushed from the wine and the heat of the blankets. As you stand up to leave, Aegon mumbles:

“I fetched you a book... the one you were looking for,” he sloppily points to his table by the window before dozing off.

There is only one book so it’s easy to find — and when you do, you can barely contain a sound of surprise: it’s the complete history of Westeros, heavy and hardcover, decorated with gilding. You glance at Aegon but he looks fast asleep so you cautiously get out of his chambers.

If you were to turn around, you would’ve noticed that he kept an eye on you with a grin on his face.

When you walk out, you see Aemond still standing there, his gaze landing on the book and then immediately on you. It takes you a minute to figure it out and then you smile at him:

“Even though I appreciate the gesture, it is hard to imagine Aegon in the library.”

“He asked me to help him find the book you wanted. I did,” the prince explains as if it isn’t that big of a deal. But to you, it is — although you think he only did it out of politeness.

“Thank you, Aemond,” you enthusiastically turn your attention to the book, flipping through the pages in awe. He watches you, feeling the warmth in his chest at the sight of your joy.

“You know that you bring out the best in him?” Aemond says in a low voice, and your heart skips a beat at his comment. You are thankful for the dim lighting that makes your heated cheeks less obvious.

“You overestimate my influence,” you say, then dither before admitting, “I’m afraid I was too hard on him today.”

“Someone has to do it,” Aemond objects, and there’s something in his tone — sincere and soft, that makes you look at him again. At this moment, away from the prying eyes and the pressure of everyone’s expectations, you can see the side of him that people rarely get acquainted with.

“I think you are doing a pretty good job, too,” you tell the prince, finding his presence ever so calming. You could never understand why would anyone call Aemond intimidating when he’s been nothing but kind to you ever since you two met. Whenever you have a chance to be alone with him, his company always brings you comfort, and that feeling is so rare, you want to chase it.

But then you remind yourself of the harsh reality, and your smile falters.

“I’m sorry you had to get involved,” you look down at the book. “I wouldn’t want to distract you.”

“You need to elaborate on that,” Aemond says uncomprehendingly.

“I’ve heard that you were courting lady Baratheon,” you explain casually, avoiding his gaze.

He hesitates before answering.

“Well, I only plan to,” the prince clarifies. “If she accepts my advances.”

“It would be silly of her not to,” you blurt out and, while you can’t see it, Aemond gives you a quizzical look.

“She may have her reasons —”

“I can’t come up with a single one,” you tell him with so much confidence, Aemond’s heart flutters at your words but you continue without a second thought. “You are intelligent, good-hearted, handsome — and a really skilled swordsman. Not to mention you have the biggest dragon in the realm, which does sound like a reasonable perk.”

The prince is glad that you’re too preoccupied with the book to see his stunned expression. It’s not just the fact that you compliment him so easily — but also the way you do it. When other people try to, they usually start with Vhagar as if the old grumpy creature is the main good thing about Aemond. But you only bring up the dragon at the very end and in passing, instead keeping the focus on the prince. He is silent for a moment, letting your words sink into his memory.

And then Aemond persuades himself that you only said it out of politeness.

You notice his lack of response — and you are about to question it when a maid comes to you in haste:

“Lady Y/N, your presence is needed. Your father is looking for you.”

“Better not keep him waiting,” the prince encourages you with a grin. “If he finds Aegon, he might hug him to death.”

You playfully elbow him and turn to follow the maid but then stop to say. “Please make sure your brother stays in bed.”

“Will do,” Aemond looks at you walking away, clutching the book to your chest as if it's the most precious thing in the world.

To this day, it is truly a mystery to him how Aegon managed to befriend someone like you. You met the Targaryen brothers when your family was invited to one of the royal feasts. You were ten-and-three, the middle one of three sisters. Your oldest — Elaesa — has been the center of attention, beautiful and graceful, but while everyone’s eyes were on her, you looked a little bit disoriented. It was the first feast that you’ve attended, and maybe you got too agitated or overwhelmed — or both — but soon you ended up lost in the castle, and somehow ripped the hem of your dress in the process.

Aemond was the one to find you. The prince has never been keen on taking part in celebrations, often sneaking away from all the noise. That’s when he saw you — fussing with the dress, your sobs echoing through the hall.

“Are you hurt?” he rushed to your side, and you looked up at him with blubbered eyes.

“Why do you have so many halls? You should hand out maps so people can find their way back,” despite being clearly upset, you sounded unusually serious, and Aemond fought back a smile.

“I can help you find your parents without a map,” he suggested, and for a second it seemed to lighten your mood but then your pout worsened.

“I cannot go back,” you gestured at the dress. “I am in such trouble!” you whined, the tears threatening to spill out of your eyes.

Truth be told, Aemond didn’t have much experience with ladies back then nor did he know a thing about dresses but your distress seemed so genuine he couldn’t leave you be.

“It is not that bad,” he pointed at the ripped material. “I can ask our seamstress to take a look.”

You studied his face for a second, then glanced back at the dress — surprisingly, that was all it took for you to stop crying, and no other coaxing was needed. You wiped your nose and fixed your hairdo, smoothing the damaged hem the best you could.

“I’d appreciate it if you help me find my way back,” you said, your face seemingly more relaxed.

Getting you to talk was pretty easy, and Aemond shortly discovered how open-minded and outspoken you were, using your quick thinking to compensate for your timid personality. When you returned to the hall of the Iron Throne, he was reluctant to let you go but promised to come back with the seamstress. The task only took him about ten minutes, but when he did reappear, you were not alone — Aegon was standing next to you, making you laugh so hard, it looked like you forgot about the dress already. Aemond didn’t mean to interrupt as he suddenly felt very out of place, uninvited in his own home, so he abandoned the idea of helping you and just left.

At first, he thought you fell for Aegon’s flirtatious charms but soon learned that, as much as you did like his brother’s humor, his charms had no effect on you. On the contrary, you often chided him for hitting on young girls and openly condemned his affection for wine. Your honesty set you apart from all the ladies Aegon was surrounded with — and that was the reason he came to enjoy your company as much as he did. Despite the three years age gap, you were the one who told him the truth, no matter how ugly it might’ve been, but you did so without prejudice or any ill intentions. You would usually follow your critique with advice or a solution of some sort to keep the prince away from unnecessary trouble. That is why you were on friendly terms with Helaena, too, and your influence was also welcomed by Alicent, the then Queen. She liked that you were straightforward with your remarks and often said that you were wise beyond your years. Although, as much as Aemond agreed with it, he suspected there was a reason you had to grow up early.

It happened the same year you met — your older sister, with all her grace and beauty, ran away from home to elope with some unworthy beggar. Your mother was inconsolable for at least a week, saying that Elaesa brought shame upon her family. Your father, the kind man that he is, forgave his daughter fairly quickly and tried his best to restore peace. And yet, you came to realize that Elaesa’s vagary did cast a shadow over your House. Your youngest sister, Alyna, was a fragile little thing, frequently sick and tacit — which left you to be the one representing your family in the eyes of society.

Within a few years, there wasn’t a thing you weren’t good at: lords lined up to have a dance with you, ladies admired how well-spoken you were and shared a laugh at your florid sarcasm, and you learned to embroider, to ride a horse, to walk exquisitely dressed and with impeccable posture. But while for everyone else it was a reason to compliment you, Aemond saw the underlying cause of your diligence — the corrosive desire to prove one’s worth which was something he learned to live with as well. And which led him to think he understood you better than anyone.

More often than not he found himself watching you as if he had the need to make sure you weren’t in harm’s way. Helping you with Aegon was a part of that routine but it also gave him a chance to be alone with you. You talked about everything and nothing in particular, and he would catch glimpses of you — the real you, shy and emotional at times, but still understanding and perceptive. He cherished every opportunity to steal you away from the never-ending chattering, from lords ogling at you, from Jason Lannister whose interest in your company should’ve been concerning. Aemond has gotten so used to observing you, so enthralled with your covert conversations, he didn’t realize that a particular feeling was creeping up on him. But there was one person who turned out to be more observant than Aemond has been. Aegon was the mere reason why his brother ended up at your door a few days later. Aemond’s been to your place a couple of times and he promptly memorized the way to the farthest room of the house — the one you used to paint in. It was the only thing you truly allowed yourself to enjoy, an unexpected talent of yours which you soon perfected, too, except it wasn’t meant for the others to marvel at but plainly for you to keep your head occupied, to have some quiet time.

He walks in when you are already painting the finishing touches. When you turn to greet him, you stop mid-sentence, seeing that it’s Aemond instead of his brother who you were waiting for.

“He overslept,” the younger prince shrugs. “It isn’t a bothersome task to come pick up the portrait of my nephews.”

You point in the direction of the painting with the brush in your hand. Aemond admires your work — as he always does — while you try to shake off your confusion. There is another reason you did not expect to see Aemond today. You tarry with voicing your concern but eventually glance at him with empathy.

“I was sorry to hear about lady Baratheon’s decision.”

“I was not,” he’s quick to retort.

“I cannot imagine agreeing to marry a Stark,” you say, dipping a brush in a jar of water.

“Is it the cold weather?” Aemond grins knowingly.

“Yes! Gods, just thinking about it makes me feel uneasy. All the layers you have to wear to keep yourself warm, barely being able to move, getting no sunlight...,” you ramble, making sure to wet all the brushes before lining them up on the table.

“Some say they’ve got quite a beautiful scenery,” Aemond tries to object although he knows his argument doesn’t stand a chance.

“I wouldn’t be able to enjoy that,” you huff. “How am I to capture the beauty if my paint freezes?”

He only hums in agreement, watching you busy yourself with your supplies. You go through the brushes, delicately cleaning the bristles with a cloth. Your fingers carefully take one brush after the other, and Aemond silently admires your love for neatness and order.

“You are staring,” you say without turning to him.

“Where do you want me to look at?”

“Aemond, you are in a room full of art!” you chuckle lightly. “Surely, enough options to land your eye on.”

The prince lets his gaze go around the place, and it takes him about a minute to quickly examine all the paintings. And then he inevitably looks at you again. Aemond thinks he likes this view the most.

“When do you begin your next great work of art?” he asks, hoping to distract you.

You halt movement, then force out glumly:

“Never.”

“What do you mean?” he’s taken by surprise.

“I’ve come to realize that I’d never be a genius,” you reluctantly explain. “So I’m giving up all my foolish artistic hopes.”

“You cannot be serious. You have so much talent and —”

“Talent isn’t genius!” you throw up your hands in defeat, and he can sense your frustration from a distance. “I may be talented in other things, but when it comes to painting, I want to be great or nothing. And I am only of middling talent,” you scoop up the brushes, give them a quick look and place in another jar to dry.

Aemond wants to argue, he really does — but he also knows better than to try and persuade you when you are like this: firmly standing your ground, exuding nothing but stubbornness. In any other situation, he would’ve found it endearing but it’s upsetting to see you downplaying your brilliance.

“Hm, may I at least ask your last portrait to be of me?”

You instantly turn to him, taken aback. Throughout the years you’ve known him, he clearly expressed that he did not like being painted, and you only could make a quick sketch or two, at best, when he wasn’t paying attention.

“Alright,” the long-awaited opportunity makes you smile. “Next time I come for breakfast, I will drag you into the garden to pose for me,” you give him a pointed look, and Aemond humbly nods.

Your smile grows wider but you try to tone it down, afraid to spook him, and focus on wiping the nearest table.

“What are you going to do with your life in the meantime?” he changes the subject.

“Polish up my other skills and become an ornament to society,” you sigh, putting the cloth away.

There’s a brief pause before he says, his voice a bit strained:

“Here is where Jason Lannister comes in, I suppose?”

You say yes but the answer comes a little bit too fast, and Aemond notices that the topic makes you uncomfortable.

“But you are yet to be betrothed to him,” he clarifies, gaze fixed on you.

“I will be if he proposes,” your eyes meet his, and you are sure that there’s a shadow of disapproval on his face that only spurs your stubbornness. You fully turn to the prince to say: “I always knew I had to marry well, I do not feel ashamed of that.”

But Aemond isn’t looking for a fight — he swiftly corrects himself:

“There is nothing to be ashamed of. As long as...” — he can barely bring himself to say it — “As long as you love him.”

For the reason unknown to Aemond, his statement brings a bleak smile to your face.

“I believe we can have some power over who we love,” you object, lowering your gaze for a second as you start absentmindedly twisting the ring on your finger.

“I think the poets would disagree,” he chuckles, trying to defuse the unexpected tension.

But when you look up at him, your glare is as obdurate as ever.

“Well, I am not a poet, I am just a woman,” you rebut crisply. “And as a woman, I have no illusions about my prospects which do not include me earning a living to support my family. And my parent’s fortune has its limits as I’ve come to learn. Hence why, if I want to have children — I do — and be able to provide them with everything they wish for, I must rely on my husband,” that last word is pronounced with disappointment. “So don’t stand here and tell me that marriage isn’t an economic proposition, because it is. It may not be for you but it certainly is for me.”

Had he not known you, Aemond would’ve been very impressed — with how blunt and witty you are, you are very good at delivering speeches. But as he’s standing in front of you, watching your face, he senses that your determination is akin to despair. Aemond thinks he might take a chance at arguing with you, after all — but you’re both startled by a knock on the door:

“Lady Y/N, Ser Lannister just arrived.”

You look baffled for a second, your confidence crumbling.

“Why would he — I, I didn’t expect him today,” you mumble, almost ashamed of his arrival.

Yet you pull yourself together faster than Aemond can come up with a reason for you to stay. You remove your apron and quickly examine your dress, then move to put on a cape.

“Did I miss any paint stains?” you ask Aemond in a haste.

“No,” he looks over the flowing material of your neat dress, your hair knotted up high — and then, “...Wait!”

You stop abruptly while he grabs a clean cloth.

“There is something on your cheek,” he says as you both step toward each other — and in the next second you are suddenly standing too close.

You turn to him and shyly shut your eyes, taking a deep breath. Aemond is frozen for a moment but then carefully wipes away a slight smudge of green from under your cheekbone. His hand unwillingly lingers as he examines the delicate features of your face. You open your eyes, looking at the prince questingly. His facial expression is unreadable but it makes you wish you didn’t have to go.

You brush away that silly thought and stand back, fixing your cape.

“How do I look? Do I look alright?”

“You look beautiful,” Aemond says with no hesitation, taking you in — with your cheeks a bit flushed, lip parted and eyes shining. “You are beautiful.”

You seem a bit bewildered at his words but then a smile grows on your face — and in a blink of an eye, you’re gone. The prince is left standing there, staring at the spot where you were just now. The room suddenly feels so empty without you — and so does his heart.

The realization strikes Aemond like lightning: he wants to be the one you come to, at all times. The one holding your hand, watching you paint, or read, or dance — watching you do whatever your heart desires. Because his only desire is to be with you. That thought puts down roots deep into his chest, and he doesn’t know how to pluck it out.

Nor does he want to. It’s all he can think about for the duration of the week, until you come to the castle — with canvas and supplies, not hiding your excitement. He almost forgot about his promise but follows you into the garden without objection. You sense a slight change in Aemond’s behavior, him being more quiet than usual, but decide not to push the prince so he won’t reconsider.

“I will start with a sketch and then we will go from there. Alright?”

He just hums in response while looking at you but you are unaware of the meaning behind his gaze.

“Take any pose you like, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” you suggest with a half-smile, knowing full well he will probably remain standing.

And he does, arms clasped behind his back, his eye never leaving your face. You immerse in the process too quickly to be bothered, the piece of charcoal in your hand sliding over the paper, leaving lines and shadows. Drawing Aemond is an effortless task, and you can only enjoy how easy it is to sketch the sharp contours of his face and his lean body. The simplicity can also be explained by the fact that you've already memorized all the details by heart: the curves of his cheekbones and his lips, the flow of his silver hair, the shape and cut of his eye.

When you are finally satisfied, you can’t tell if it’s been an hour or three, and the prince, as it seems, hasn’t moved a muscle. At this point, Aemond’s demeanor does worry you yet you blame it on his nervousness.

“Want to take a look?” you hand him a few sketches. “Mind you, I’m not finished so please don’t judge too harshly —”

“I could never,” his hand brushes yours when he takes the drawings.

Aemond has seen your works before but it’s a whole new experience when he’s the one being portrayed. He almost doesn’t recognize himself — you didn’t miss a single feature of his yet somehow this version of him looks too beautiful to be real. He is at a loss for words until he spots that there's another drawing hidden underneath. It’s a sketch of him sitting, both arms on the table, his face looks like he’s deep in his thoughts.

“When did you do this one?”

“After the coronation,” the memory makes you smile. “Made my poor father lug around with charcoal in his pockets while he was trying to keep up the conversation with Ser Lannister.”

It was the day you got introduced to Jason. You were supposed to be by his side, with your charming smile and polite talks, yet you spend your time drawing Aemond. He can imagine your gaze focused on the piece of paper, the way you must’ve been looking at him to capture every detail and movement — all of that without him asking to, without him even noticing. There is so much care in that act, he is unexpectedly moved by it.

The words leave his mouth before he can think them over:

“Don’t marry him.”

His request makes your hands tremble, and you drop the piece of charcoal, slowly looking up at Aemond, the smile disappearing from your face. He did not mean that, you must’ve misunderstood.

“...What?”

Aemond turns to you, looking you straight in the eyes.

“Don’t marry him,” he repeats, helplessly and desperately.

“Why?” you ask in disbelief, suddenly having trouble breathing. The only reason you can think of sounds delusional, close to impossible. You wait for him to come up with some clever explanation — instead, he comes closer to you, his gaze so warm it makes your cheeks burn.

“You know why,” Aemond says and his hand gently lands on yours. You look down at it, perplexed, your mouth opening and closing, heart rate speeding up.

He keeps his eye on your face as he waits for your reply. You are not repulsed nor angry — which is supposed to be a good sign — but the reaction he gets is actually worse than that. Because when you finally glance at him, you look hurt.

“No,” you yank away your hand as if his touch stung. “No, Aemond, you are being mean, stop it,” you take a step back, your eyes glossy and lips tight. The look you give causes him physical pain — while you are trying your best to fight back the tears.

His intelligence clearly fails him because Aemond has no clue what’s going on. He feels like there is a deeper meaning to your words but he does not get it.

“Why am I being mean?” he asks incredulously as you slowly continue putting more distance between you two.

You don’t even realize you are doing it — it’s almost an urge to not be in his presence, for the first time ever. The weight of his words feels suffocating and merciless. How easy it is for him to toy with your emotions, you think, and that cruelty of his — as you see it — wounds you so deeply, he might as well put a torch to your heart.

“I have felt like everyone’s second choice my entire life,” you bemoan, not being able to keep your agony bottled up any longer. “In everything, no matter how hard I’ve worked to be better. I thought you out of all people would understand that,” you sound raspy, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.

“So I will not be the person you settle for just because your first marriage proposal was turned down,” only when your voice shudders, Aemond finally understands how wrongfully you interpreted his intentions.

But you are out of his reach already — at least ten feet away from him, and the distance separates you like a giant chasm.

“No, I won’t. I can’t,” you are hurting so much, your feelings spill out like blood from a wound. “I can’t do it. Not when I have spent years loving you.”

His breathing hitches as your confession pierces through his chest — and he is left speechless, deafened by it. The moment slips through his fingers with unforgiving pace: you were standing so close only a minute ago — and now you are turning your back to him, rushing away. The last thing he sees is how broken you look, your shoulders slumped and eyes brimming with tears.

Aemond stands, shocked and paralyzed until it’s too late — the garden is silent with your absence and the only evidence of you being there is your supplies scattered on the ground. Your words are ringing in his head, his heart heavy with a dreadful feeling.

He was afraid he would never have you — but he actually could have.

If only he wasn’t so blind.

➡ Part 2

yes, this is me blabbing again: I’ve watched this movie an embarrassing amount of times, and I’ve wanted to write a fic based on it for a few months. I did rephrase a couple of quotes but still tried my best to do the story justice. my apologies for the angst — just so you know, it was painful to write. also, will I ever stop using friends to lovers trope? only time will tell! (I probably won’t, though) I know there is a very heartwarming fic by aemonds-war-crime that was also based on “Little women” and it’s only fair that I link it as well!

tagging @greenowlfactif because you asked 💙 comments and opinions are VERY welcomed! 🥺 🎨 my masterlist English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!

#aemond targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #<<< PLS don’t be mad! I know Aegon isn’t the main character but he has a meaningful role #so I thought maybe I should add his tag too... (PLS DON’T BE MAD)#on a completely unrelated note I decided to start with dialogue(s) and then bring the backstory #I think it’s more engaging??? but we’ll see how that goes #also it was a conscious decision to start with Aemond’s side of the story — just so it comes as a surprise when she says ‘hey I loved you f #(I mean it obviously won’t be surprising if you saw the movie...)#ALSO I really hope you guys will want the second part (’cause I already wrote it lmao)#my stuff #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond one eye #aemond one eye x y/n #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfics #aemond targaryen fics #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd fanfiction #aemond angst #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen angst

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moongreenlight · 6 months

Text

Greek mythology/the Olympians has been my hyperfixation for going on two decades now and I just… Soap as Dionysus.

Always brings a good bottle of wine and a few rooted cuttings of ivy as a housewarming gift. If he’s fixed his attention on you, he’ll also put a few sex toys in the little bag he brings. Puts them right on top for the pleasure of seeing your scramble to try to shove them in a drawer or tuck the whole gift in the closet.

He’s a great time. Has this intoxicating way about him. Like life is a stage and he’s the director. Playful and fun, though a little too enthusiastic at times. Handsy when the two of you hang out. You assume that’s just his nature and excuse it accordingly. Hard not to, gorgeous man that he is. A divine kind of handsome. Like his features are an eons-old amalgamation of all the most beautiful features humans have ever had.

And he gets strangely possessive, even after you’ve been nudging back his wandering hands or putting your hand between his mouth and your neck all night. Borders on vindictive and aggressive if he’s not in the right headspace.

It’s a bit terrifying to see him snapping his teeth in the face of some man at the bar who had only just asked you if you’d wanted a drink. You swear later in the night you see him babbling feverishly to a group of his friends. It sounds like total gibberish, and his friends look even more confused than you feel, but his eyes are wide as saucers and his hands are flying about hazardously. You don’t think much of it after Soap pulls you by the waist to the corner booth and tips a cocktail up to your mouth.

He keeps you out until all hours of the night. Insists on staying jovial. Club-hopping to find the best crowd, best music, best conversation. Keeps you up and active for so long that the confines of reality start to become fuzzy at the edges.

Sexuality expressed through bodies writing and twisting in drunken dance. Bumping up against one another. Collecting strangers and your own sweat in fat beads on your skin that make you shiver when they get heavy enough to trail down the small of your back.

When the room is spinning enough to make you stumble just a bit and you’re unable to do anything but giggle about it, he’s somehow able to make sneaking off into the family bathroom together seem like a good idea. He seems just as drunk as you are, slinging an arm around your shoulders when you walk. Bellowing a laugh when his hand grazes your tit but making no attempt to pull it away.

It’s less easy to be oblivious when you’re in the bathroom together. The muffled music filtering through the bottom of the door. He’s pressing up against you even though now there’s no crowd to excuse his practically grinding his groin on your hip.

It smells like sweat and generic brand bathroom cleaner. You hum when he staggers to the urinal instead of griping at him about how crass it is to take a piss right in front of you. He props himself up on the wall with one hand and a moment after you hear the teeth of his zipper come undone, he lets out a throaty, satisfied groan.

You busy yourself looking in the mirror. Checking your makeup. Seeing if you look as drunk as you feel. It’s filthy. There’s a web of cracks coming from the bottom left where it looks like someone tried to send their fist through to the wall behind it. It makes you a bit dizzy to look at and you have to bend at the waist to get close enough to see the way your mascara has smudged all around your eyes.

And all of a sudden there’s a burning heat behind you. Sickly, feverish heat pressing straight into the pillows of your ass. Soap’s spidery reflection shows up just over your smile sporting a wicked grin. Teeth and eyes flashing.

You try and swat him away, all too used to his comings-on, but he digs his fingers into the fat of your hips bruisingly hard.

“C’mon, hen. Been driving me mad all night. Relax a bit. Jus’ need this. Need you. Please.”

He has to lay flat over your back to hiss in your ear. Teeth clenched like he really needs to put some effort behind his words to sound polite. Like a petulant child who’d just been reminded by their mother to practice manners.

You were practiced in batting back his advances, but for some reason his grit made you falter. His gaze seemed to be burning a hole through you in the mirror. The idea that something inside him was hitting a roaring boil that he couldn’t stop from flowing over made your brain go foggy. The opposite of sobering. His aberrant need was contagious and catching quick.

He smelled like sweat and cheap cologne and dry, sweet wine and woods. Flirty and masculine and overwhelming. And he’s warm and strong behind you, even if he’s pushing his hard cock into you.

Who were you to deny him the pleasure of snapping his hips into your backside a few times? Letting his fingers impatiently tug at the button of your jeans and hastily tug them down with your underwear until they pooled around your ankles?

It didn’t help that the sound of him sending a glob of spit into his hand made you clench around nothing. A familiar warmth gathering between your thighs that made you shift a bit to chase the momentary relief even a touch of friction could provide.

He couldn’t even afford you the decency of pretending not to see. No. Instead he points a spotlight on you and insists you perform for him again. Nudging your legs apart and pressing his thigh flush against your core while purring the filthiest things in your ear.

“Ken I jus’ needed to wear you down, mm? Thought ‘bout this before we went out. Always did get sloppy when you drink. Jus’ needed a little push. That’s it -Jesus- cunt’s so wet. Gonna take good care of her.”

And the club is so packed full of drunken, dancing bodies that hardly anyone notices the way you two stumble out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later. Even though you’re still fumbling with the button of your jeans with shaking hands.

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seventh-district · 4 months

Text

This Evening I Will Not Forget

“I jumped into the fray with the intention of helping you and next thing I know I’m standing there uselessly watching the first person I’ve dared to love in two fucking centuries take a warhammer to the stomach!”

He turned to face you as he emphasized his last few words, now standing all but frozen in the middle of the tent with his hands held out, gesturing toward your injury. You’re about to pipe up and insist that it wasn’t his fault, but the words dissipate before you can speak them as another part of his sentence echoes in your mind. You repeat them back to him in a disbelieving whisper.

“The first person you’ve dared to love?”

His tense, frustrated expression instantly falls flat.

“I didn’t say that.”

An injury and an argument lead to you revealing far more of yourself and your unspoken past to Astarion than you planned to.

Pairing: Astarion x Reader

Word Count: 3,292

Content Warnings: [injured Reader] (not graphically described, just mentions of bruising and pain) [mean/avoidant Astarion] [argument] [mentions of Reader's scars & non-specific allusion to their Tragic Backstory™] [vulnerability] [possibly (probably) OOC Astarion]

Author's Note: This is an excerpt from my fic An Evening I Will Not Forget, but can be read as a standalone one-shot. The only context I think you'll need is that this fic is written in the style of reliving memories, hence certain lines will mention Reader "looking back" on them.

“What's important is this evenin' I will not forget

Purple, blue, orange, red

These colors of feelin'

Give me love, I'll put my heart in it”

You’re lying on your back as cold, pale fingers press against your sensitive skin, pulling a small pained sound of protest from you.

“Sorry, sorry…”

Astarion retracts his hand, fingers curling into his palm. You reach out to catch hold of him before he can completely pull away, your voice tense with pain as you reassure him.

“No- no... don’t be. I know you’re just trying to help.”

You bring his hand back toward your exposed stomach, his fingers still coated in the healing salve he was attempting to apply. His hand hovers hesitantly over your bruised and broken skin.

“Yes, but- I’m not very good at it.”

Your thumb brushes across his wrist as you hold onto him, suspecting that if you let go he’d just retract his hand again.

“What do you mean? Of course you are.”

He shakes his head insistently.

“No. It seems like every time I try to help you, I just end up hurting you even more…”

Confusion is clear both in your voice and on your features.

“That’s not… that’s not true, Star.”

You tug lightly on his wrist to get his attention, your voice soft as you ask him a question.

“Is this about what happened today?”

He pulls his hand out of your loose hold and you let him, watching as he stands and begins pacing circles inside the tent.

“No, I’m in a bad mood because the weather isn’t quite to my liking- of course it’s about what happened today!”

The initial sarcasm in his voice gave way to frustration near the end. Not with you, but with himself.

Now that you’re observing this memory from his perspective as well, you can see the moment you sustained the injury playing over and over again in his mind, working him up further and further.

“The first person you’ve dared to love?”

His tense, frustrated expression instantly falls flat.

“I didn’t say that.”

Your eyes widen, nodding slowly.

“Yes you did.”

Nervous laughter escapes him as he takes a step back, distancing himself from you.

“No, no, you… you must have heard me wrong. I didn’t- I was talking about helping you, I didn’t say anything about love, what’s love got to do with this?”

You hate to push him, fearing he may bolt like a frightened deer if you double down, but you know what you heard. It wasn’t like the first time you heard him say it, slapping it on the end of a string of pick-up lines, the word obviously carrying no weight, no truth. No, this second time was different.

“I think it has more to do with it than you’re willing to admit, Astarion.”

He falters, one of very few times you’ve seen him truly caught off guard, truly speechless.

“Those are…” He searches for something to say that’ll cover up the truth that’d just spilled out of him. “...bold words for someone currently bedridden.”

You bark a laugh and it turns into a low groan at the pain it causes to flare in your lower ribs.

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

If he’s being honest, even he’s hardly sure what he meant. He’s truly floundering here, for the first time in… forever.

“It means… it means that I can walk away from this conversation right now and there isn’t anything you can do about it.”

Stooping so low as to resort to childish threats, you can feel the embarrassment radiating off of him.

“Would you truly be so cruel as to do that to me right now? Walking away, leaving me vulnerable and confused just because you can’t handle the truth?”

You’re pushing your luck too far and you know it. Surprisingly, though, he takes one step toward you, moving away from the exit.

“Cruel?! If you think that me simply walking away from you counts as cruelty then you truly haven’t suffered enough.”

His words are suddenly laced with venom and they hit you harder than the barbarian’s warhammer did today, leaving a chill colder than ice in their wake.

He seems to actually hear what he said a moment later, the careless words ricocheting off of you and coming back to slam into his chest, nearly knocking him over and crushing him beneath the weight of his sudden regret.

A furious wave of heat and adrenaline courses through you as you bolt upright in the makeshift bed, ignoring the sharp pain that flares inside you in response to the sudden movement. Reaching down and grabbing at the tail of your shirt where it’s bunched up around your ribs, you hastily yank it up over your shoulders and head, tugging your arms out of the long sleeves and furiously tossing the garment directly at him.

“Suffered enough? You think I haven’t fucking suffered enough, Astarion? You don’t know the goddamned HALF of it! You’re not the only one in this tent that’s been abused, you know?! Oh wait- that’s right- you DON’T!”

Your voice cracks under the pressure of volume and emotion as fat, hot, angry tears roll down your cheeks against your will. Astarion stands there like a deer in the headlamps, your balled-up shirt having hit him softly in the chest and fallen anticlimactically to the ground. As his eyes rake over your heavily scarred arms, the angry purple markings showing no signs of lessening as they curl over your shoulders and disappear behind your back, it suddenly starts to make a lot more sense why you were so damned insistent that no one remove your clothes while treating your wounds earlier.

Shadowheart rips open the flap covering the tent’s exit, a very concerned looking Halsin ducking down behind her. Part of you is grateful that at least not everyone was currently at camp to witness your sudden breakdown, but even the sight of the two of them is enough to have you panicking. Pulling at the blanket gathered around your waist and shouting in an admittedly very childish, vulnerable voice, you demand they leave as you choke on your tears, hastily covering yourself up.

“GET OUT!”

Unsure of what to do, Shadowheart surveys the scene before her with a critical eye before sighing, seeming to understand that the best thing they can do right now is give you back your privacy. She knows that if you needed her, you would call. Turning to shoo away the concerned man behind her, she lowers the flap back down with a quiet murmur of “They’re… fine. Let’s give them some space.”

Astarion finally breaks free from where he’s been stood like a statue, slowly moving toward the exit as well with an unsure glance in your direction.

You bury your face into the fabric clutched in your hands, shouting into it in exasperation.

“NOT YOU!”

He freezes, no longer knowing what to do but wishing that the ground would simply open up and swallow him whole. Back under six feet of soil feels like where he deserves to be after what he just said to you.

He racks his brain for the right thing to say, coming up empty handed and eventually deciding that honesty might just be the best policy in this situation.

“I… I’m going to level with you. I have no idea what to do right now.”

In spite of it all, you laugh, a broken sound that cuts through your tears, causing you to cough, then the strain from coughing causes more tears to fall. Though he can’t admit it, Astarion knows right then and there that he never wants to hear or see you in such pain ever again.

“I… I’ll level with you, too.”

You pull the blanket away from your face, looking at him with watery, bloodshot eyes.

“...Neither do I.”

You glance down at the floor, attempting a deep breath and failing spectacularly as another broken sob escapes you. Dropping the fabric still held up against your chest, you press your hands down into the bedroll beneath you in an attempt to support your upper body and ease the pain radiating through your core.

Astarion takes one cautious step toward you, his unsteady voice the only thing filling the silence aside from your soft crying.

“I need… to apologize. For everything.”

You shake your head in disagreement and clear your throat.

“No, you don’t. You’ve been through a worse hell than I could ever even imagine. It’s… stupid of me to try and compete with you in that regard.”

He takes another step forward, insistent.

“That isn’t true. You have… clearly been through your own hell, and it was… stupid of me to assume you hadn’t. Even worse of me to try and downplay my avoidance by… holding my past over you like some sort of… like some sort of excuse.”

You shift your weight to the side in order to lift one hand, reaching out to grab at one of the small cloths stacked beside your bed. Astarion sees you struggling to reach them and rushes forward, closing what remained of the space he’d put between you as he lifted a cloth and handed it to you without a word.

You bring it to your face, pressing it to your eyes in a useless attempt to dry the tears that were still falling. Then, moving it down to blow your running nose into the cloth before you could make an even bigger mess of yourself than you already were. Finally able to breathe a bit better, you counter his point.

“Yeah, but- the thing is, I feel like you kinda have the right to do that, given all that you’ve survived. Of course you’d see the pain of walking away from a conversation as trivial when you compare it to… literally anything you’ve experienced.”

Now that he’s returned to your side, Astarion’s head angles to drag his gaze across your exposed back, finally seeing the full extent of your scarring as you lean forward a bit to toss the dirty cloth to the floor of the tent next to your shirt. Nausea swirls deep in the pit of his stomach as the upsetting sight of your marred skin burns itself into his memory.

“I believe… that’s called a double standard.”

You throw him a sad, confused look, and he explains.

“You’re trying to give me some sort of… free pass based on what I’ve been through, but I’ve never once seen you give yourself that same sort of leniency.”

“That’s… not the same thing.”

“I’m not saying we’ve been through the exact same thing, but…” He gestures vaguely to the entirety of you. “...clearly you’ve gone through something. If I get to lord my baggage over you then surely you’re permitted to do the same.”

Your tears begin to slow as you consider his words.

“I don’t… want to do that, though. Obviously. That’s why I haven’t told you. I don’t want you giving me special treatment because ‘poor pitiful me’ has gone through some shit. I don’t think that excuses any of my current behavior.”

The silence hangs in the air for a moment before he gently drives his point home.

“Yet you think it excuses mine?”

Hm.

“...okay. I guess you’ve got me there.”

You sigh, body beginning to feel heavier than lead as the sudden rush of emotion and adrenaline fades from you. You ease yourself back down, hissing at the pain as your bruised ribs and torn muscles protest the stretch and movement. Astarion wants to assist but truth be told he’s afraid to touch you. So, he watches on helplessly, still berating himself in the back of his mind for the role he feels he played in you sustaining today’s injuries to begin with.

Once you’re laid down and relaxing into the bedroll as much as you can, you make no effort to cover yourself up, not caring how long his eyes wander across your exposed skin. Silently, he tries to read the countless jagged lines and dots carved into you like they may eventually come together to paint him a picture of all that’s happened to you.

No picture anyone could paint would ever do the pain justice.

He settles himself down next to you as your tired eyes stare a hole in the ceiling of the tent.

“You do not have to accept my apology, but I will not rescind it. I do have the wherewithal to know that what I said was wrong. It was cruel. I…”

He exhales, the heavy sound full of the weight carried by a man that hasn’t been this honest with anyone in centuries.

“I… tossed aside any consideration for how you may have felt, letting myself get lost in my own… stupid fears. It wasn’t right. It certainly wasn’t fair to you.”

Your head lolls to the side, appraising him with lidded eyes.

“You know… you’re surprisingly self-aware when you aren’t being a pompous ass.”

Your words draw a surprised laugh out of him and after a moment of consideration, he nods slowly in reluctant agreement.

“I’ve… had a lot of time to sit with myself and think. Eventually you get to know yourself pretty well.”

He looks down, idly picking at the loose threads on the edge of your well-worn bedroll.

“All of that self-awareness apparently doesn’t make me any kinder though, does it?”

It’s a rhetorical question but you answer it all the same.

“I still stand by my statement that you have good reason to be so… abrasive. Just being aware of those reasons doesn’t mean that they suddenly don’t affect you any more.”

Your hand raises from where it laid lifelessly beside you, reaching over for Astarion’s and pulling his anxious fingers away from attacking the weak points of your bedroll. You don’t release his hand once you direct him away from the loose threads, holding onto him as you continue to muse aloud.

“I think that a lot of us are just doing our best to not allow our past to affect our present, to varying degrees of success. Sometimes we fail. But- I believe all that truly matters at the end of the day is that we’re trying, though. … And, Astarion?”

“...yes?”

“I can tell that you’re trying.” You squeeze his hand. “And I accept your apology.”

You take a slow, deep breath, and listen as his voice comes out softer than you’ve ever heard it.

“Thank you.”

You nod your head in a silent “of course,” laying in thoughtful silence for a few moments before speaking.

“I… feel like I should apologize as well.”

Now it’s Astarion’s turn to be confused.

“What ever for?”

You weakly raise your other hand to gesture all around the room.

“Just… this. The scene I just made. Heaping all of this emotion onto you when you were obviously already struggling with how you felt about me in the first place.”

He doesn’t take long to respond.

“No, I don’t think you need to apologize for that. This… seems like it really needed to come out. I could never be upset with you for sharing it with me, regardless of the… unideal circumstances.”

He then seems to realize something.

“I hope you don’t regret it, though. Sharing this with me.”

You shake your head decisively and the motion causes your impending headache to flare.

“No. I don’t. I- uh- you were going to find out eventually with how… close we’ve been getting. I just couldn’t find the right time to tell you- or- well, show you, I guess.”

Your hand releases its hold on his, reaching up to carefully brush your fingertips across the mottled skin of your stomach. You raise your head up, angling it down to look down at the injury with a thoughtful gaze. Glancing over toward Astarion, you ask him another question.

“Can you hand me that salve from earlier? It never really… got fully applied.”

He immediately reaches behind him for the container, but holds it in his grasp as he stumbles over his words.

“I- I, uhm… wouldn’t mind trying again, if you want me to. If you don’t I’ll understand, though. Just… want you to know that the offer is still there.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise, but you’re completely willing to let him do it.

“Oh… sure? You’re welcome to, I just… assumed you wouldn’t want to.”

He holds his other hand up and only then do you realize he never wiped the salve from his skin.

“These fingers are numb already anyways, might as well spare yours the same fate.”

You vaguely remember Shadowheart’s words as she passed Astarion the container earlier, cautioning him to not leave it for long on any skin he didn’t want to temporarily lose feeling in.

“But hey, at least we know that it works now, right?”

You give him a tired smile, appreciative of his efforts to lighten the mood.

“Mmm, I suppose so.”

You pull your hand away, exposing your injury to him once again.

“Have at me, then.”

With your permission, he sweeps a scoop of the healing and numbing mixture across your sensitive skin and you notice how feather-light he keeps his touch this time. Looking down to observe his work, you note how the messy mixture of the massive bruise’s dark colors stand in stark contrast to his pale white fingers that brush across it.

A thought slips out of your exhausted mind.

“Pretty…”

His eyes flick up to meet yours, unsure if he heard you correctly.

“Hmm?”

“The colors. They’re pretty. Purple, blue, even kinda orange…”

You look away from the bruise and up into his ruby eyes.

“...red.”

He’s silent for a moment, his hand pausing its gentle motion. Then he scoffs, looking away and internally dismissing your words as the ramblings of a tired mind.

“You’re talking nonsense, dear.”

Your filter has all but completely vanished, feeling almost drunk on your current mixture of exhaustion and relief after such a hell of a day. Sleep beckons you and your eyes fall closed as the pain in your ribs fades, on its way to being numbed out by the potent salve. A hazy thought surfaces, reminding you to give your thanks to Shadowheart when you next awake. For now though, you relax, no thought given to the words that slip from your lips.

“But you love my nonsense, don’t you…”

His heart feels like it jumps in his chest as he hears you so casually speak the word that he’s still reluctant to even think to himself, let alone say aloud. As he finishes massaging the salve into your skin and pulls his hand back, his eyes pass over the expansive unspoken history of pain evidently etched into your skin, up across your chest, over your shoulders and down your arms. He figures the least he can do is answer you honestly before sleep pulls you under.

“I… suppose I do.”

End Notes: If you'd like to read my commentary on this scene, you can find that in the end notes of Ch. 5 on AO3 - right here!

Header Image Source: x

#astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #astarion fanfiction #my writing #eheheee my attempt at baiting more people into reading my fic by posting parts of it as oneshots on Tumblr has begun /hj #i'm only half joking tho cause yeah while getting more eyes on the full fic would be a nice side effect if the oneshots do well on here #i also just want to give my favorite parts of the fic that i feel can stand on their own a chance at a second life here on Tumblr #regardless of whether that brings more people in to read the full fic or not

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microwave-core · 10 months

Text

Scarvio Headcanons

Guess who’s back on her bullshit

It’s me :)

Nemona, my favorite skrungly dumbass. Sweet thing is trying her best, unable to discern her romantic feelings from her platonic ones for so long. Listen, growing up she only had pokemon on the mind, and once she reached the top she really didn’t have any friends, so she’s still figuring things out. But enough about her being lost in her feelings, because I’ve talked about that enough.

Once she manages to spill her guts and get into an actual relationship, she’s completely lovesick, over the moon. Her entire worldview has changed for the better, as she somehow becomes even peppier than usual. The happiness beaming from her is as radiant as the sun. Her mood is impossible to bring down. She’s just so happy that you’ve given her a chance, that you feel the same way about her that she feels about you.

In general? She’s a mix of eager and nervous. Nemona only recently made real friends, so obviously she’s still learning the ins and outs and weird quirks of relationships, both for platonic and romantic ones. Don’t get me wrong, she’s absolutely ecstatic at the idea of having a girlfriend, and she absolutely loves you with her whole heart and soul, but this is still new, unexplored territory for her. Taking big steps in your relationship makes her heart pound, both from excitement and fear, but she fights against her nervousness with relative ease, viewing it as a mere challenge she must overcome to become the girlfriend of your dreams.

Speaking of friends, Nemona likes to go to them for advice, despite both of them being in the same relationship boat as her, to varying effect. Arven actually gives some pretty sound advice, but that’s mainly because said advice boils down to making and giving you food, and who doesn’t love free food? Penny, on the other hand, essentially just rehashed vagueling romantic things from her favorite manga and anime. Thankfully for you, Arven usually manages to shut her down before any ideas can be planted into Nemona’s head.

Her favorite kind of dates are the ones where you spend time in nature together. Whether you’re going on a picnic or camping or just plain ol’ adventuring, she’s gonna have a great time. Just know that she is going to try and battle every unique looking pokemon you come across. On the bright side, she’ll always give you first dibs when it comes to catching them. It might take a long while for her to catch anything, given her less than stellar throwing arm, but she’ll succeed eventually through raw, sheer determination.

This mentality can be applied whenever you express interest in catching a pokemon. If you want something, Nemona will get it for you, no questions asked. If you are looking for something super rare? Nemona’s got it. You’re trying to get a shiny? She’s already on it. You want something insane like the rare three-segmented Dudunsparce and you want it to be shiny? Don’t worry, babe, she’s got this. She will disappear for weeks on end and reemerge with the spoils of war in hand.

Please let her geek out, if only for a little bit. Let her rant and rave about the insane battle she had with her rival a few days ago, or about the uber rare pokemon she found earlier in the week. On one hand, she just wants to talk about these things in general, but on the other hand she just wants to know that someone in her life is genuinely interested in what she has to say. It makes her heart flutter in a way that she’s never felt before. The second you give her that kind of attention, she knows that you are the one for her.

Anyways, I always love posts that are like “slander your favs for no reason” so Imma try to do that for each of these ladies, except it isn’t really gonna be slander but I’m gonna call it that anyways because I don’t know what else to call it. For Nemona, I’d say that she’d fall hook, line, and sinker for those old playground rumors, like Mew being under a truck by the S.S. Ann or the Jirachi rock bullshit. If you tell her that they aren’t real, that people just made them up to pull people’s legs, she would be completely crushed.

Penny’s a weird one. Like, just in general, and we love her for that. She is the epitome of what facebook boomers think of the younger generation. She is terminally online and refuses to leave her room unless absolutely necessary. She has committed bank fraud. She is blue hair and pronouns. She is holy fucking bingle.

Unlike Nemona, who is super eager about taking steps in your relationship, Penny is terrified of them. She’s never been this close to another person in her entire life, so obviously she’s hesitant. Not to say that she doesn’t like being close with you, she loves it and craves to be even closer, but she can’t help but feel a bit afraid of the unknown. That’s all to say, you are going to have to be the one to initiate those steps. Just be careful, even a kiss to the cheek is enough to make her brain do a full system-reboot.

But she wants to take those steps, and wants to show you that she cares about and loves you (although it takes a very long time for her to bust out the L-word). For starters, Penny will actually open up to you about all of her interests. She’s not ashamed of who she is, but she doesn’t tell most people about her interests due to being bullied for them in the past. On top of that, she’ll also introduce you to her Team Star buddies, and they definitely pull the overprotective card on you. Hell, she’d even hack the league again for you if you so much as asked (just don’t tell Clavell she said that).

She also takes your interests into consideration in order to recommend some of her favorite things in return-from manga, to video games, to music. And if you ever tell her about something that you really, really love, she will binge it ASAP. You could mention a game that takes at least a hundred hours to complete and she will somehow finish it within a matter of days, ready to talk about it as soon as the credits roll. She was bullied for the things she loves, so she knows how much it sucks having no one to talk to about them. Not that she’d ever say that out loud, though, because mushy feelings and words don’t come naturally to her.

Kind of an aside, but do you think something like pokemon showdown (online battles) would exist in the pokemon universe? I only mention this because I think Penny would be super into competitive memes. She would totally mention something like homophobic ferrothorn in casual conversation and expect you to understand what she’s talking about.

Of course, how could I mention Penny in general headcanons without bringing up the theory that she’s Peony’s daughter? How could I pass up an opportunity to, once again, talk about supreme supportive embarrassing dad-of-the-year Peony who’s extremely supportive of his gay daughters? Giving Peonia this treatment wasn’t enough, I seek more carnage.

Now, Penny would definitely have it better than Peonia, considering she lives in a different region and all, but that doesn’t stop Peony. He sends her small gifts all the time, many of which are handmade. In particular, he loves to send little pride flag patches, which she often shares with her friends. He also tries to send her supportive messages to tell her that he loves and accepts all of her no matter what, but they’re always made in MS Paint with a mouse and he has to ask Peonia to help him save the image and send it to her, and it's always either far too small or far too big, nowhere in between.

Slander time, Penny would absolutely own a titty mouse pad of one of her favorite anime characters. She is incredibly embarrassed about owning it, and dreads the day someone finds it, but she still uses it, and goes to great lengths to hide the thing whenever anyone comes over.

Katy is kinda hard for me to write for because it’s in an instance of oh I know someone with that name and it’s hard for me to think of her without thinking about that person with whom I am related to, but you didn’t ask about that.

This woman? She’s the sweetest thing to ever grace Paldea. This lady is so sickeningly sweet at all times, only wanting the best for those around her. She couldn’t even hurt a Cutiefly because she’s simply too kind. Make no mistake, she could absolutely clock the shit out of someone, but she simply chooses not to. Thankfully, she only believes in uplifting others.

Obviously, baking is her passion. She’s spent years perfecting her craft down to a science, enough to make complex techniques look simple. More than anything, she wants to share the joys of baking with you. It’s like giving you a piece of her to hold onto forever. Don’t be surprised if she ends up making you her go-to taste tester, always asking your opinion on whatever new concoction she’s whipped up. All she asks is that you’re honest, not wanting you to lie just to protect her feelings.

Speaking of her craft, she understands how difficult it can be to get into or master a craft or hobby, about how easy it is to put yourself down the second you make a mistake. She’s been there, she gets it, hence why she doesn’t hold back with her praise and criticism. She believes it’s important to acknowledge how much you’ve improved while also keeping in mind how you can strive to be better.

Despite how sweet and kind she is, Katy does have a mischievous streak. Pulling light-hearted pranks is one of her favorite pastimes. It's small things like signing your email up to some random newsletter or asking “what’s that” while pointing over your shoulder, only to be met by one of her creepy-crawly or bear-shaped pokemon. You could argue that these things don’t really classify as pranks, but she loves doing them nonetheless. Even though they are completely harmless, she always has sweets to give the prankee after the fact, just in case her actions somehow came off poorly.

But let’s skip to the bottom line, you can’t date Katy if you hate bug pokemon. And it’s not because she won’t tolerate your opinion, no, it’s because her little-and big-bugs are around constantly. If your fear was bad enough, you’d likely end up having a heart attack just by being around her for an extended period of time. If you are afraid of them but are determined to be with her, then she’ll do everything in her power to help overcome your fears. Exposure therapy can work wonders if you’re willing to put the effort in, and she’ll reward you with her love and baked goods for being so brave, especially because you’d be doing it for her.

She’s one of the most uplifting, cheerful yet calm partners you could have. She’ll always be in your corner, helping you along the way of whatever journey you are on, but she won’t be overbearing. She’s a very passive person by nature and struggles with confrontation, but she has your back no matter what happens, prepared to catch you and help you back onto your feet whenever you may fall down.

Slander posting time, Katy really got into the “everything is cake” thing. Like, it kind of became a problem, to the point that she spent hours making a single realistic-looking pastry. Normally, she’s not too hard on herself when it comes to baking, as small mistakes are unavoidable and are nothing worth losing sleep over. That is, until she was working on a hyper-realistic Tarountula, where she acted like her life was on the line should a single one be made.

Iono can be super energetic, upbeat, and slightly unhinged at times, and lowkey, chill, and… still kinda unhinged at others. She’s an online personality, so, of course, there’s a persona she has to put up, but with someone like you, she can be her regular self.

For starters, this girl is fuckin’ tired. Putting up her hyper-active streaming persona whenever she’s around others while also having to deal with internet weirdos wears her out. Of course, she’s grateful for her job and the opportunities that come along with it, but that doesn’t mean it’s not stressful at times. She can handle it, though, even if she does end up whining and borderline begging you to cuddle her when you get home at the end of the day, if only for a bit.

When it comes to your relationship, she desperately wants to show you off. You’re her darling, loving girlfriend, who is both incredibly hot and talented. It’s only natural that she would want to show off how great your relationship is. But, at the same time, she’s very secretive with it. For one, she knows how certain people can get when the people they follow get into relationships, and two, she wants to keep her personal life out of the public eye.

Her hair is a nightmare to care for. Not just because there’s a ton of it, but because she has to constantly make sure it’s dyed properly. Personally, I believe her hair is naturally pink, meaning every few weeks she has to get the turquoise parts touched up. Of course, that doesn’t even mention how long it takes to style. All she asks of you (a lie) is to brush her hair, careful to work out the tangles with delicate strokes. She’s always willing to return the favor, tending to your hair based on your instructions.

Whenever you go out, she has no choice but to put on a disguise. On a date, she doesn’t want to be noticed by the general public. Not only would it bring attention to you both, it would also force her to put up her streaming face, which would kinda destroy the purpose of you guys going out in the first place. What’s the point of spending quality time with each other, one-on-one, if she has to be fake to appease those around you?

On the actual dates, she’s super lowkey, even more than usual. It’s not often that she gets to be herself out in public, so she cherishes all the time dearly, even if she has to hide her face in doing so. You get to hold hands, go out to eat, and walk around the streets of Levincia while window shopping, chatting and laughing the whole time. She forgets how much she loves it, living a mundane life, even if just for a few hours. It makes her think about what life will be like in the future. She doesn’t want to live in the public eye, streaming forever, so these small moments are like a glimpse into the future for her.

But Iono can absolutely be a menace, as well, both on and off stream. Like, you could just be on your quiet little date in the city and she’ll randomly ask if you want to go harass Larry. She does it all the time for her streams because the people love him, but she also just does it for fun on her own time. Besides, who doesn’t want to end their date by badgering epic divorce man as he eats 50 rice balls in one sitting?

As for slander, well, there’s many things I could mention here, if I’m being honest, but let’s just stick with the simplest one. She’s done a youtuber apology before in response to some dumb controversy she got involved in, complete with the sigh at the beginning followed by “I never wanted to make this video” and all.

Tulip’s elegant and a bit head strong, and is also incredibly charismatic and business savvy. Beauty is her forte, and she finds it in all things, regardless of what other people think, which she thinks is a mindset everyone could benefit from having.

She’s a bit more difficult than others, in a sense, mainly because of how busy her life is. Typically, she’s talking to business personnel about her next line of cosmetics, either in person or over the phone. As a result, making time for you can be difficult. Sometimes, the most you’ll see of her in a day is her, on the phone, whispering a quick “love you” and planting a kiss on the top of your head before turning her attention back to whoever’s on the other end of the line.

But every now and then, she’ll clear her entire schedule and spend the entire day with you, and she’s pampering to a fault. No matter what you end up doing all day, at some point she’ll sit you down and do your makeup and style your hair all pretty while chatting away. Her work is flawless, obviously, although it does take quite some time to finish. She’ll let you do hers in return, finding whatever choices you make to be beautiful. After all, you picked out the colors and styles specifically for her, so of course she’ll love it.

If you end up going out, she’d love to go to a nice restaurant. It’s a great way to show off how lovely you both look, dolled up, ready for a wild night on the town. Eventually, though, she'll get recognized, leading to you both being tailed by the paparazzi. She puts on her best smile, asking you to play along, but soon enough you’ll both bail. The night ends with you running through back alley streets, laughing and giggling with one another until you eventually find your way back home.

Quiet dates are what she prefers, though, as it’s nice to just relax and unwind with someone you love. She adores meditation and yoga, and would love to guide you through some sessions. She’s learned a lot from Dendra, after all, and needs to put that knowledge to good use. That being said, she’s a very flexible person, mainly because she’s been doing yoga for so long, so don’t feel bad if you have trouble keeping up with her.

While Tulip’s whole business is about cosmetics, she puts a ton of value on self-love. To her, makeup is purely an art form which uses the human body as its canvas. Every face, every body, has beauty to it. If you can’t realize how wonderful you are in your most natural state, then slathering makeup on, what you perceive to be, flaws won’t change your overall self-image. Makeup is a hobby, and it looks best when you use it to accentuate what beauty you already possess. It’s the reason she absolutely loathes self-deprecation. If she ever catches you saying something bad about yourself, whether it’s meant to be comedic or not, she’ll take your face in her hands, squishing your cheeks a bit, while stating otherwise. Like, if you said you weren’t really that pretty or attractive, she’ll go off on a rant about how beautiful you are, both in and out. If she thinks something seriously up with you, that something is really weighing on your mind, she’ll clear her schedule as soon as possible and spend hours spoiling you, making sure you know how much she truly loves you and you alone.

Tulip is also super into self-care. If she’s not posting about makeup or fashion, she’s promoting all kinds of things to her followers. She posts about her morning routine and makes instructional videos for yoga poses and stretches. Sometimes, she’ll drag you out of bed in the morning to join in on her regular routine, mainly her skin care routine as well as meditation. It’s important to take care of your mind and body, and she won’t let you forget that.

Let’s see, slander for Tulip. Normally, she’s a very calm and composed individual, but she’s not perfect. That is to say, there exists a video of her just completely blowing up at someone Christian Bale style. She prefers to ignore its existence.

Rika’s honestly not my type, but I get the appeal, even if she does look like gijinka Perry the Platypus. She’s got that cool edge about her, even when she is wearing her grandma glasses.

She loves to flirt with you. The flustered expression she can force onto your face never fails to make her heart pound in her chest. The way your eyes widen, the way you try to hide your face from her, the way you stammer through your words… all moments she cherishes. She’s not above kabedoning (or whatever the word is) you just to see you squirm. She wants to steal your heart, and will go to any lengths she has to to make you hers.

That being said, I sincerely see Rika as a failwife. She may look sleek and suave on the surface, but behind closed doors? She’s a disaster. She lays in bed at night. tormented by your cute face, as she’s forced to overthink every little interaction she’s ever had with you. It’s like, she’ll think about some interaction you’ve had, thinking she completely embarrassed herself in front of you, that she completely screwed up her chances with you, when in reality you don’t even remember it. Not even the gentle embrace of Clodsire can save her.

Whenever she’s working as the league’s receptionist, she’s thinking about you. It’s not her fault that browsing through your social medias is far more interesting than forwarding emails. Of course, she makes sure to keep them in a separate tab to switch off of them second anyone walks into the room. Just because all of her co-workers, as well as her boss, know that she slacks off doesn’t mean they need to catch her in the act. Battling is a different story, though, as her focus has no room to wander off there.

She’s kinda like a second mom to Poppy. The tot’s far too young to work an actual job, obviously, but she spends a good deal of her day at the league in the off chance that a challenger comes by. Most of the time, she’s sat around, doodling her team and parents and co-workers with crayons on printer paper. Rika spends quite a bit of time watching over her, making sure she’s not getting into too much trouble while praising her artistic talents. Rika makes sure she gets lunch and always sets her down for her afternoon nap and brings her home at the end of the day and whatnot.

That’s all to say, Rika inadvertently built up an attachment to the kid. She never thought she would want to be a mom, and she isn’t even sure if she really wants children of her own, considering being a babysitter isn’t nearly the same thing as being an actual parent, but taking care of Poppy always gets her thinking. For now, at least, she’s content being an aunt. If she ever saw you caring for Poppy, her heart might just explode. You’d simply be too cute, and it would also make her realize that she might have a thing for milfs.

She has a secret love for shitty romcoms. Once you’ve been together for awhile, she’ll invite you over for the night and put one on under the guise that you can make fun of how stupid and predictable it will be, but if you pay attention to her while watching, you’ll notice that the enjoyment she’s getting out of it is far from ironic. No matter how much you may poke or prod or tease, she will never admit it. She just wants you to think she’s cool, is that so much to ask for?

As for her slander, she doesn’t really understand memes. Like, you know the joke about parents always pulling the same face when you show them a meme? That’s Rika, she makes that face almost every time you try to show her something funny. It’s not like she isn’t online, or anything, she just doesn’t understand them.

Geeta, my favorite chairwoman with a voluminous shell of hair. No one knows how she cares for that behemoth, just like how no one knows how a good chunk of the wider pokemon community fail to understand her purpose in the games, but I digress.

As I believe I’ve said before, Geeta is a workaholic. Most of the time she’s tending to her league related duties, which results in little time spent together. When she eventually arrives home, tired but generally satisfied after a long day of work, she kisses you softly as a way to say “hello”, squeezing a bit of quality time in, before shutting herself away in her at-home office to continue working. Unfortunately, it falls to you to tear her away from her work when she’s clearly run herself ragged.

Thankfully, vacations happen pretty often, as she frequently travels to represent the Paldean league. It’s still work, but it gives her a great opportunity to spend time with you. Exploring new regions makes her feel like a kid, like she’s experiencing her journey across Paldea with her Glimmet in tow all over again. It reminds of her simpler days, causing a small, nostalgic smile to find its way onto her face. She encourages you to continue poking around on your own when she has to return to doing work.

Mentioned this in the past as well, but Geeta spoils you endlessly. Gift giving is one of her love languages. She can’t help but think of you when seeing adorable clothes and objects in shop windows and online stores, knowing the delightfully surprised expression you’d make when presented with the sudden gift, even though you should expect these things from her after being with each other for so long. It’s not like she’s struggling financially or anything, so why shouldn’t she?

Also, she loves spa dates. It lets her spend time with, spoil you, and relieve her incredible stress all at once. It’s the perfect date in her mind. Of course, she loves fancy dates, at high end restaurants and stuffy galas held by the league. She enjoys luxurious goods, the expensive, fine wine and food, and she also loves to see you dressed to the nines. But they don’t hold a flame to the love she has for relaxing with you at the end of a long day.

She’s very particular with her things. Like, everything within her office, both at the league and at home, is perfectly organized. The top of the expensive-looking wood is essentially pristine, all her fountain pens and other small knick knacks are kept in holders, and the drawers are full, although not overly so, of neatly filed papers organized alphabetically. She knows where everything is at all times, and can get irritated if someone moves them around. And yes, she has framed photos of you on her desk in both offices.

That being said, certain parts of her home, mostly closets, are messy and borderline overflowing. The closet that her clothes are in is neatly kept to prevent the finely pressed, sleeveless work shirts and blazers from getting wrinkled, but no other closet is safe. They are just full of random objects she doesn’t know what to do with. Normally, she prefers not to acknowledge their existence, simply smiling if you ever brought them up, but if you were to go through and organize them for her, she would marry you on the spot.

She just… she thinks about you a lot. Whenever there’s a slow moment in the day, she’s thinking of you. When she’s moving from point A to point B or transitioning between tasks, she’s thinking of you. When the work place spirals into hectic chaos, she’s thinking of you, because, Arceus help her, if she didn’t think of anything else, she would completely snap and maybe kill someone. Even when still hard at work, thinking about you and what you might be doing at work or home makes her feel at ease, helping her grapple with her ever-mounting stress.

Geeta slander, okay. Do you know how Mark Zuckerberg owns, like, 30 pairs of the same shirt that, despite looking incredibly simple, are all uber expensive? That’s Geeta, except it’s for her blazers. She has several pairs of them to ensure she always has a clean, ironed one available, which at least makes sense since they have to be dry-cleaned and all, but goddamn she’s put down a small fortune on the things.

Mela, as you would expect, is stubborn and hot-headed. Her reputation as a foul-mouthed delinquent sends most people packing, but if you manage to wiggle your way past her defenses, you’ll end up with an endlessly loyal friend (or girlfriend, in this case) who would move mountains for you.

This girl is incredibly possessive. If you ask her why, she’ll tell you that it’s to ensure that no one tried to mess with you, stopping others from making fun of or coming onto you before they even got the chance. Which is true and all, but she also just doesn’t like the idea of people getting too cozy with you. Simply put, she gets jealous easily. Not that she would ever admit it, as she’d sooner burn through every excuse under the sun before doing so.

She tends to come off rather, uh, strong, to say the least. No matter what she’s doing, she will look intimidating, even with her doofy walk. The day she asked you out, she marched up to you, face as menacing as ever, and just spouted out “go on a date with me!”, leaving no room for opposition (not that you would have said no, of course). It’s not her fault, really, she just has a bad case of resting bitch face. Speaking of your first date, it was kinda awkward, but in an endearing way. More likely than not, you didn’t really know who Mela was outside of her being a member of the team causing chaos for the school, as well as the fact that she was very, very intimidating. Naturally, you were pretty nervous during the date, afraid that saying the wrong thing would result in you being yelled at. Little did you know, Mela was also incredibly nervous, because you were just so pretty and kind and she really didn’t want to blow her chances with you.

Honestly, she doesn’t really have a ton of strong interests. There are things she likes to do, sure, but not enough to call them hobbies. And even then, a lot of them are activities that her friends really love, meaning she only bothers with them when hanging out. She likes these things enough, but most of her enjoyment comes from being with her friends and not the actual thing in question. Whatever you are passionate about, she’ll jump into. As long as you’re having fun, she’s happy.

It isn’t until after Team Star’s downfall that she begins to express her interest in art. She’s always liked drawing and painting and what not, but she never had the opportunity to get into it, mainly because her skills are rudimentary at best. Her only real experience with drawing in recent memory includes poorly doodling in the margins of spiral notebooks and worksheets, which prevented her skills from improving all that much.

It takes her awhile to break out of her shell and show people her work, as she’s afraid that they would point and laugh at her. Even though she could easily rip someone a new one if they so much as looked at her funny, she’s still afraid of falling into the cycle of bullying she was subjected to before. But she pushes past that fear, knowing that feedback from those that care will only help her improve. She shares more art with you than anyone else, so please be gentle with her. She works so hard on each piece, and is desperate to eat your praise up.

She’s a cuddle bug, one hundred percent. Do not mention that fact, though, because doing so would cause her to explode. She is supposed to be rough and tough, the deep cutting wit of her team that can force even the most self-confident individuals to run away crying. If people knew that she was a little spoon, that she liked to be snuggled as close as possible against her girlfriend behind closed doors, her reputation would be tarnished forever. She doesn’t even want her friends to find out, because she knows they would hold it over her head and tease her forever. And by friends, I mean all of them except for Eri, who would try to stop the others from teasing, an effort that would fail miserably.

Regarding slander, I’d say that Mela owns a ton of those “how to draw anime” books. She was super into them when she was younger, resulting in a lot of embarrassing old drawings. She hates them, but looks back at them sometimes to see how far her artistic abilities have come.

Eri, my beloved. She is peak gentle giant, strong and powerful and an absolute sweetheart by nature. She is your ride or die, willing to do anything she has to in order to keep you safe and happy.

This girl absolutely adores you. She gets drawn in by your natural strength and beauty, leading to her sheepishly introducing herself. Just like Mela, you’d find yourself intimidated by her presence at first, but when you actually get to know her you come to realize how sweet and kind she is. As soon as you’re friends, she would be willing to drop everything for you, and that sentiment only grows stronger when you get together. If you ever need anything, all you need do is ask, and she’ll take care of it, no questions asked.

I kinda implied it with the above, but Eri is actually kinda shy. She really doesn’t like being looked at, finding the stares of others to be intimidating. It was Atticus that came up with the idea of wearing a mask, which helped her feel way more comfortable being around others, despite it drawing in more attention. To be fair though, even if she didn’t wear it, people would still stare due to how tall and muscular she is. Over the years, she’s gotten better, more sociable, but talking to you early into your friendship as well as officially asking you out brought that side of her out again.

She’s a big ol’ teddy bear. She has the physique of a Greek god, and she uses all of those defined muscles to give the most mind-blowing hugs imaginable. With her arms around you, holding you closer than humanly possible, it’s impossible to feel cold or unsafe. She prefers to hold you closely, but has no issue with you sprawling out on top of her or trying to be the big spoon. She just wants to devolve into a tangle of limbs with you, regardless of what position you find yourselves in.

Of course, Eri is super into working out and staying fit. She lifts, she runs, she pumps iron, she does it all, and she loves it. Is she a gym rat? Not quite, but she’s been mistaken for one before. She wouldn’t ask you to join her outright, but she clearly wants you to join in. She’s a bit afraid to ask you directly in the fear that you’ll feel pressured to say yes. If you tag along, to her excitement, she will tone her regular routine down for your sake, not wanting you to feel too sore in the morning.

Also, she’s the type of person to wake up at the crack of dawn. She likes to start the morning off with a brisk jog. It’s her way of waking up instead of caffeine. You can’t stop her from untangling you from her arms upon waking up, no matter how much you may beg and plead for her to stay in bed with for just a little bit longer. She simply cannot be swayed.

She loves horror in concept, but absolutely hates it in practice. She can get pretty excited when sitting down to watch something like a horror movie, but as soon as anything scary happens, she’s out. Not literally, she will sit through the entire thing, but she has to grab a nearby pillow to hide behind when anything remotely scary happens to do so. If you are with her, she will cower behind you instead, essentially setting you down on her lap to more easily hide behind your shoulder..

Eri absolutely loves cute things. As evidenced by her princess-esque outfit and use of heal balls. That being said, Eri also thinks everything is cute. There’s the obvious, typical cute things she loves, like stuffed animals and frills and anything draped in pink or purple, but she also believes that her team of pokemon are cute, which, need I remind you, contains a beast that evolves by getting so furious that it fucking dies. Everything is cute in her world, and she will use everything in her power to keep that cuteness safe. The strong must protect the sweet and whatnot.

Slander? Well, I’d say that Eri accidentally breaks things regularly due to how strong she is, but everytime it happens she cries about it. She just feels so bad about it, even if everyone around her tells her that it’s fine because it was an accident.

Miriam is such a mess, but she’s trying her best. She’s kinda like Rika, in the sense that she has a failwife-esque energy about her. She melts under your attention, but that doesn’t stop her from blabbing about you to anyone who will listen.

Poor Miriam is tired and disappointed with her place in life, and it shows sometimes. All she wanted to be was a teacher, but she got shafted into the position of school nurse. Given, it was more or less her fault, considering that she was the one that failed the test. Truth be told, she didn’t study as much as she probably should have for the exam, but that doesn’t dull the sting of failure. She puts on the face of a school nurse during work hours regardless of her dissatisfaction, although doing so can get a bit awkward when faced with the academy’s older students.

That being said, when she finds her spark and decides to attempt the test again, she’s all into studying. If you were to help her out during this time, bringing her food and tea and encouraging her to take breaks to clear her mind, it would be much appreciated. Sure, she always tells others to take care of themselves, but that doesn’t mean that she’s good at it herself. Plus, your encouragement helps her keep going when she wants to throw in the towel. When she eventually passes the test, she’s gonna take you out on the best damn date the world has ever seen as thanks.

Regardless of where she’s at in life, she will come home and collapse on the couch, waiting for you to join her so she can blab about her day. When she’s working as a nurse, she’s bored and dissatisfied, wishing for more out of her work day. When she’s studying to become a teacher, she’s tired and mentally done with things, knowing that she will eventually have to go back to studying till her brain is fried even though she just got home from work. Comfort her please, she’s desperate.

Let it be known that she can fall fast, and she can absolutely fall hard. It doesn’t take much for her to take interest in someone, for her to flirt with you on a casual basis, but when she begins to form a crush, it’s the end for her. She’s tripping over herself whenever you’re around, and blushing up a storm whenever you’re on her mind. Everyone around her knows she has a crush the instant it forms, you included. She can see that her feelings are obvious, so she makes no real attempt to hide them from you. However, she won’t act on them, because she wants you to make the first move.

Once you do start dating, she talks about you constantly. Should anything come up that reminds her of you, even if just by the slightest bit, she’ll bring it up. Some of her coworkers find it endearing, and others can’t stand it (cough Raifort cough). Not that she notices, though, because she’s too busy talking about you to take their reactions into consideration. She’s also the type of person to refer to you as her wife even when you’re just dating.

She’s another cheerleader, but is more out there than the likes of Katy. She doesn’t just want you to know that she’s supporting you, she wants everyone around to know she’s got your back, because have you seen her wife? She’s absolutely killing it, look at how cool she is. Miriam is just incredibly supportive and wants to repay you for all the support you’ve given her, ready to hype you up as much as possible at a moment's notice. Of course, she’ll also force you to sit back and take care of yourself if she thinks you're in desperate need of a break.

Slander? Well, when she’s drunk, she turns into a basic bitch. She’ll move until she’s sitting right next to you, almost tripping several times in the process, so she can lean in close. She’ll run her fingers up and down your arm, her touch incredibly clumsy and sluggish, saying things like “you are SO funny” while laughing and kicking her feet after you say literally anything.

Dendra is also kind of a mess, but for a different reason. Because she’s a huge fitness nut and, essentially, a PE teacher, she often gets injured, making her more of a physical mess than a mental one.

She’s super energetic, always pumped up and ready for action. She could be coming back from a workout, exhausted as hell, but will instantly perk up and go in for round two if someone asked her to join them. It’s like she has an infinite fount of energy, because how else could she always be so active? She doesn’t sleep more than the average person or anything, neither does she bother with caffeine.

Unlike Eri, I would absolutely call Dendra a gym rat. She’s all about the grind. Working out is her favorite hobby, her happy place. On top of that, she’s extremely welcoming to anyone trying to get into fitness, wanting to help them find what works best for them. Also unlike Eri, she’s much more open about wanting you to join her workout sessions, to the point that she’s willing to beg.

You can always tell when she’s gotten injured by the way she greets you after work. Normally, she’ll rush through your home to find wherever you are, nearly tackling you into a hug. It’s been a long day and she missed you. But when she’s been injured, she sheepishly walks through the door, careful to avoid walking into the room you are in fully to try and hide the bandages from your line of sight.

In general, she’s just a really bad liar, and she lowers her head, like a child waiting to be scolded, when found out. She doesn’t like hiding things, especially from you, but she doesn’t want you to worry, either. Injury happens all the time in her line of work, making it something she’s grown accustomed to as well as expect. As such, she doesn’t want you worrying about each and every one of her scabs and bruises, even if she does like the way you dote on her.

She really likes to show her love for you. It’s not that she thinks you don’t know how much she cares for you, she just likes asserting it. Obviously, she does this through spending time with you, and being affectionate with you, and saying “I love you”, but she also likes to give you little gifts here and there. This obviously isn’t a problem, much less weird for a girlfriend to do. Rather, the issue is that food is included in that, and she’s an awful chef. She knows this, and tries to improve, but it’s still not great. Eat with caution.

Loves to talk about you to her friends. She doesn’t talk about you constantly, but it’s not uncommon for you to be brought up in conversation with the likes of Tulip and Miriam. Usually, it’s just in passing, but sometimes it’s about how she wants to do more for you, show her love in different ways. Tulip suggests getting dressed up and going out somewhere nice, but that isn’t really her style, and Miriam tries to help her improve her cooking skills, but the lessons never really go anywhere. Still, she values their support and advice, regardless of their effectiveness.

Like both of her friends, Dendra is big on taking care of yourself. It takes a lot of time and effort to keep your body happy and healthy, but it’s all worth it, because it will only result in you feeling better, and when you’re feeling better, it’s easier to uplift others. She greatly encourages you to start some kind of daily routine if you don’t already have one, and she will hold you to it.

In terms of slander, I’d say that she’s the type of person to easily forget dates. She’s got your birthday on lock, but that’s it. Expect her to show up to anniversaries and Valentines dates late with a bouquet of flowers she purchased on her way over.

Raifort, last but not least, is cryptic. I wouldn’t call her gothic, but she really reminds me of that one post about a goth being like “my love I crochet an anatomically correct heart for you” and her girlfriend responding with “aw thanks do u wanna go to target with me?” and I will not elaborate.

She’s got this veil of mystery about her, but that’s not intentional. She isn’t trying to make herself seem mysterious and cool, she just doesn’t like it when people are all up in her business. Yes, she’s looking for the Treasures of Ruin. Yes, she knows that they’re dangerous and could cause incredible amounts of chaos to fall upon the region at large. No, she won’t tell you why she wants them. If she wanted you to know, she would’ve told you already.

She will blab to you constantly about history and legendaries. When she’s not teaching or planning lessons, she’s reading up about these kinds of things, trying to absorb as much information as possible. According to her, most people aren’t cultured enough to understand the incredible importance and allure of historical records, meaning you are one of the few people who will seriously listen to her sudden info dumps.

Along with that, she furiously rants about how much she hates present day events being, well, present. For instance, she’ll complain about the understanding and utilization of the terastallization phenomenon because it happened in recent history. To her, the present just isn’t all that interesting, especially when compared to the vast richness of the past, making her lose interest in otherwise exciting events.

As much as I hate this word, she has a ton of unintentional rizz. If we’re being honest, your relationship only came to be because you decided she was the one for you after she talked about history for an hour straight in your general direction. She put in no effort into catching your attention, but she managed to do that anyways. She agrees to give dating a shot because you seemed to value the past, as evidenced by you listening to her spiel, and that’s reason enough for her to give you the time of day.

She isn’t a morning person, not in the slightest, which is obviously a conflict of interest due her being a school teacher. Her job requires her to get up and be at work in the early morning hours, resulting in her needing a lot of caffeine in order to stay awake, much less function properly. Because she’s so tired, she puts little effort into getting ready, hence why her hair is always messily tied up. She does, however, use care when putting on her favorite accessories.

Honestly? She’s a lowkey boomer at times. The internet is a wonderful invention that allows people to quickly gather information they otherwise might not have access to, and she recognizes that, but that doesn’t make her like it. She complains about kids these days relying on it too much to write their papers rather than going to the library and reading books, and about how they are always on their phones during class. She’s not anti-technology or anything, but that won’t stop her from saying shit like “it’s cause you’re always on that damn phone” when someone around, teacher or student, faces a problem.

It’s for that reason that she doesn’t text or call you all that often. She’d much rather come talk to you in person than use her phone if possible. If she can’t find you, she’ll text to ask where you are or when you’ll be available instead of just texting you what she wants to say. Her excitement for historical developments simply cannot be conveyed through modern technology.

Okay, slander (even though the above could already be considered slander whoopsie). Despite her hatred for the modern time period, she’s secretly a collector of Rae Dunn pottery. You know, the type of shit that’s, like, a coffee cup that says the word “coffee” on it in the most basic font imaginable? She loves that shit so much, and has spent an unreasonable amount of money to achieve her collection. No, she doesn’t have a problem, stop trying to insulate otherwise.

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fuushhh · 1 year

Text

an idea I had in my sleep and wanted to draw it

little extra lower!!

#it literally took me so goddamn long because of the lack of willpower I couldn't bring myself to draw ughhhhh'#for the vessel design I thought between puppet and this slimey little thing but like a true charlie slimecicle enjoyer I've decided on that #also I couldn't decide on how to draw anomaly cuz I wanted them to be this kinda glitchy thing but it looks kinda goofy I dunno #god I hope the quality didn't get too bad #sans au #undertale #undertale au #sans x self insert #sans undertale #sans x reader #sansnomaly

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nohoney · 1 year

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bby im on my period and need touya to make it better ๐·°(৹˃̵﹏˂̵৹)°·๐

sending you smooches and laying a blanket over you bb (￣ε￣＠)

“Okay, which one do you want: the llama or the avocado?” Touya asks as he holds up two soft heating pads out to you. You point to the llama with the tip of your foot before dropping it back down on the bed and laying onto your side, trying to be comfortable. The avocado stuffy is tossed somewhere on the floor, Touya unzipping the belly of the llama to pull out the little heating bag from its body. “Snacks? Juice?”

You’re getting annoyed at your boyfriend but he’s just doing the standard routine when it’s that time of the month for you. “Cranberry.” You answer curtly, reaching for your laptop and opening it up so that you can just throw on something to distract you from your cramps. Your lower back thrums with pain that makes you groan.

Touya knows to just get out the room before you yell at him for something ridiculous like him breathing too loud (he doesn’t) or giving you a weird look (he wasn’t) or even accusing him of being annoyed from you being annoyed (he is but he won’t say it).

The microwave beeps after heating the little bag and Touya’s filled your favorite tumbler cup with cranberry juice. He gives you the juice first before he’s stuffing the heated bag back inside the belly of the llama. He watches you get comfortable, pressing the llama heating pad against your lower belly. “Anything else?” he asks, needing to make sure all bases are covered so he can retreat and leave you in peace.

“Yeah, some vicodin.”

Okay, you’re not in that bad of a mood if you’re able to make a joke at least.

Touya kisses your temple and leaves the room, keeping the door closed and closing it gently because last time you were on your period you accused him of closing the door with an attitude (he did but wasn’t going to admit it).

He goes to his drawing desk, flicking on the light and grabs his headphones off the stand. There are several sketches laid out on the surface, working on a sheet of flash designs and four designs for a client of his he’s supposed to tattoo soon.

While Touya works in the other room, you’re suffering in the bedroom. The first day is always the worst and you can’t help wanting to throw a fit. You want to throw your plushie but you want to snuggle it, the actor in the show is kinda cute but now he’s starting to look ugly, you want to go yell at Touya for no reason but you know you shouldn’t. The range of emotions that go through you annoys you just about as much as it annoys your boyfriend when he becomes the target of your mood swings, which he always points out that you get extra cranky before your period starts.

It really explained why you were tempted to punch that crying kid at the grocery store last week.

The time comes when you’ve got to go the bathroom and check to see if you’ve got to swap out to a new tampon. Unfortunately when you also check, you’ve also bled into your underwear as well. “Fucking damn it!!” You yell louder than you’re supposed to but it’s annoying when this happens!

“Doll, what’s wrong?” Touya asks from his desk, apparently having heard you over his music.

“I fucking bled into my panties! I’m so pissed!”

Touya knows the drill, grabbing new period underwear and waiting just outside the bathroom door. It cracks open and he slips his hand in, feeling it plucked from his fingers before the door shuts close again. He goes back to his desk, resuming his activity from before.

Inside the bathroom, you stand at the sink and pour hydrogen peroxide over the fresh blood that stained the cotton of your underwear. At least you caught it before it could become a period stain. You repeat the process of pouring the hydrogen peroxide, rinsing with water, wringing the underwear and repeating until you feel that you’ve gotten the blood out. You inspect the fabric and you’re relieved that there’s no stain.

But you emptied the bottle and you’re on your last tampon.

“Touya!” You call your boyfriend’s name as you exit the bathroom after cleaning your hands and tossing the cleaned out pair of underwear into the hamper. “Touya!”

The headphones come off quick and he looks back at you, “Yeah?”

You don’t like the way he said ‘yeah’ to you but you let it go for now. “We need to run to the store. I used up all the peroxide and I need more tampons.” You inform him, watching him stand from his desk and start to go towards the front door to get his shoes on. “I wanna come.”

“You’re cramping,” Touya points out and even though it’s a bad thought, he wants you to stay behind if your cramps are bad so that he doesn’t hear you complain while in the car, “just stay home and I’ll go to the store.”

“Nooo! I wanna go!” You groan, “I want food too!”

Touya can at least be grateful that when you’re on your period, you know exactly what you crave and you don’t play a guessing game with him. “Just text it to me, stay home.”

“Are you trying get away from me? Is that why you don’t want me to come?”

You end up accompanying Touya in the car, holding your freshly heated llama pad against your tummy. The car ride is quiet except for the music that plays, your boyfriend letting you have control over the music as he drives. He keeps the key in the ignition and the engine running when he pulls into the parking lot. He’s got the checklist in his head for what you need, intending to just be in and then out so you can get home quickly.

“Can we stop by that taco truck on the way home?” You ask just right before he leaves the car.

“I can make you tacos at home.” Touya says in hopes of making you change your mind. “You know it doesn’t work like a restaurant with them, we can’t just order in for takeout ahead of time. We have to wait in line to order and get the food.”

“Well I’m sure the line would be short if you get there fast.” you tell him with no room for argument.

Ugh, he does not want to argue.

A bag of all your necessary period needs are tossed into the backseat and Touya makes the drive all the way to the area you want your food from. He reaches one hand to pet your head after hearing you groan, his peripherals catching how you pet the head of your little llama plush. Once again, he pulls into a lot where the truck is parked at and he’s fucking grateful that there’s only two people in line.

He barely makes it back to your shared home when your attitude kicks in again, walking slowly beside you as you start to hunch over from the cramps. “Almost there, okay?”

And you make it, thank fucking goodness you make it, settling yourself at the dining room table and leaning on the surface of it with one arm while the other one helps itself to the bag of food. Touya is left to take all your period items and sort it into the bathroom cabinet.

“Hey, thanks for putting up with me.” You tell him as you lay back into bed after having eaten, your llama being held against you again, “I know I’m really annoying whenever it starts.”

He says that you’re not (you are).

“Love you.” He tells you as he gets ready to return to his drawing desk. Touya’s hand rests on the top of your head, slowly stroking your hair knowing that the gesture will mean something to you, even if it doesn’t make any of your symptoms any better.

“Love you too.” you take his hand off your head and kiss the inside of his wrist, just right where your initials are tattooed at along with a small heart. And in turn his initials are tattooed on your wrist as well with a little flame. “Now leave me alone.”

#hope this helps brings a smile to your face bb!! especially during this yucky time!#i act pretty bratty and thankless when it gets to that time for me #so low key bullying touya and knowing he can’t snap back at me while giving me princess treatment #and touya low key dreading it but also not wanting to cause any fuss to his baby either ╮(︶▽︶)╭#dabi x reader #todoroki touya x reader #dabi fluff #k.inbox

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amayassm · 5 months

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Gojo: "Oh I've totally watched texas chainsaw massacre, the one with the uh... michael meyers." (The watching in question:)

Bonus: my friend's reply to this

#im not even signing this one I don't want it tied to my name kdbskakajaj #jjk fanart #gojo x reader #satoru gojo #you see this is technically xreader gojo fanart but shhhh nobody needs to know #the only reason I even bring up that the white haired person is gojo is so I can also show you the hilarious reply it got

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coldhndss · 5 months

Text

Tulip 2/2 ft. Isagi. Y

You slumped back onto your bed, photo frame still in hand.

You had always expected it to end like this anyways. Your selfishness always took precedence over other people’s feelings, especially those who cared most about you.

You found yourself unable to cry.

Regret reverberated throughout your entire body, and what ate away at you most was that you knew Yoichi would be blaming your mistakes on him.

All you wanted was to apologise. You used to take it as a privilege, never imagining he would stray so far from your grasp.

Maybe a nap would wash it all away.

Until you woke up, that was.

You wake abruptly to the sudden sound of knocking.

Checking your phone, you find that 2 hours have passed.

“Coming!” You call out, looking in the mirror to tidy yourself up before opening the door. You notice that your cheeks were streaked with dried tears.

He crosses your mind, but you quickly dismiss even the mere idea of him being there. After all you’ve done, do you really think he’ll give you even a thought?

He wouldn’t come to see you first thing after being inside a training facility for months. He’d definitely visit people who actually care for him.

Your heart beats heavily within the confines of your body.

You reach for the doorknob, twist it, and open it.

Surely the person knocking on your door in the middle of the day right after you woke up from the specific time slot that you allocated for sleep every afternoon, wouldn’t be him.

Though, he was always particular about not hindering you or interrupting your free time, always making sure he had an idea of the times that you’re busy, or how you were feeling before approaching you.

Surely, it wasn’t:

“Yoichi..?”

No, no this isn’t him. He looks completely different from what you remember. He looks.. taller? He’s standing with confidence and his entire demeanor is different..

Though..

“Hey, y/n..”

But his smile is exactly as you remember.

The way the corners of his lips curve upwards, and as lets out a joyful, yet awkward laugh stringing along with his words. The way he gets too nervous to maintain direct eye-contact, and glances towards the wall or the floor after greeting you.

The way he looks back up at you timidly, seeking validation.

It was all the same.

“Listen uh, I’m really sorry for.. everything” He spoke with a soft, sympathetic tone.

You were not about to let this opportunity go, you refused to lose him again. Cupping his face in your hands and looking him straight in his eyes, you said “Don’t apologise. I don’t want you blaming yourself for my mistakes anymore”.

He reaches for your forearms with both hands and gently holds them as your hands remain on his face. You feel the heat of his cheeks in the palm of your hands as he looks downwards in embarrassment.

Inching closer, he rests his forehead on your head and exhales softly.

“I just don’t want to disappoint you. I want to live up to what you expect of me, y/n.” He coyly responded.

“Yoichi, that’s not something you need to worry about. We’re not kids anymore, that stuff doesn’t matter” You paused and took a slow deep breath. You can finally get it off your chest.

“Yet, I’m sorry for ignoring you before you left, I don’t even want to imagine the way I made you felt. I.. I was so selfish..” You shuffled your feet, embarrassed. Your face began to heat up, and before you knew it, a tear dropped down your right cheek.

You lifted a hand to wipe it, but Yoichi had beaten you to it.

“That’s not true. I was in the wrong from the moment I hesitated to tell you about everything”. He wiped your tear with his thumb before tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

He smiled; “This entire time, I was preparing what to say to you, and yet, you still managed to stump me”. Yoichi clasped his arms around you tightly yet gently and held you close. The grasp of his body felt different to before, and his newfound confidence brought you closure. He held you in his arms as he rested his head in the crook of your neck. Your heart resounded within your chest with every beat becoming louder and bearing more pressure.

Your arms remained by your side.

Giving in was not something you were prepared to do. Not in your current mindset.

The way he had changed so much, yet so little.. It made you think;

Maybe it is okay to change. To leave my bad habits behind and stop finding new ways to run away from my problems. To take a page out of Yoichi’s book, and finally leave my wrongs in the past.

You eventually gave in and wrapped your arms around his back, squeezing as tightly as you were able to. Without him, you would’ve been stuck in a loop of your congested mind, continuously likening every one of your lies with the truths of someone else.

“y/n..?” He suddenly spoke.

“Yeah?”

“Um.. you’re squeezing me a bit too tight” He chuckled.

“..Sorry”

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el-buzz · 5 months

Text

📚 Cg! Clay HCS!!! 💚🎶

Aggagaggaggag first hc list I do EVERRR (so please be kind (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) /💗💗)

Cg! Clay x Agere! Reader!!

pretty much gender neutral!!

Cw: caps lock (just me having happy outbursts), um lotsa author notes and commentary I just wanna talk about him and about how he would be as a cg :ccc, also this is incredibly self indulgent

Also there was no proof reading ☠️

(Crossposted on ao3 @Soft_Buzz!! oh and I’ll update this if I get a new hc idea)

Anyways here you go 💚:

•nicknames for you: kiddo, baby, bubba, bubba wubba (he’s squeezing your cheeks and baby talking you 😭😭), prince/princess/ lil highness/royal, and a number of other sweet nicknames or any that you prefer!

•he would be suuuuuch a sweet and doting caregiver waaaaaaah but he would definitely ensue rules for you! Calm and Strict(ish) cg! Clay would pull up to make sure you are safe and healthy even if you are feeling big!!

•he’d hate to see you hurt or sick, but he’d do everything thing in his power to nurse you back to health :]!

•Clay would definitely provide his kiddo with healthy snack or with fruit or veggie cups!

•Although Clay’s sorta strict he can be soooo soft he always want to hold you, whether it’s your hand/pinkie or cuddle up with you.

•You are his battery and he wants to recharge.

* HE WOULD SOOOO READ TO YOUUUU AHHH he loooooves reading so ofc he’d love to share that interest with his little one

• (please it’s the cutest thing ever)

• imagine him beside you with a book open (he has his reading glasses on :3) and as he reads, he gives all the different characters different voices and will always put emotion into his reading voice, which always leads to you giggling or you gasping in surprise.

• One time you insisted that you were big enough for his sad book club and that you wouldn’t become a big puddle of tears so he gave you Charlotte’s Web to read.

• You were a mess. You didn’t stop being sad for the next couple of HOURS (yes this is a reference to that JD fan art ifykyk☠️)

• Clay had to give you so many hugs, cuddles, and kisses to make up for it. He thought it’d be funny, but he sorta forgot how emotional of a little one you can be.

• “I’m so so sorry baby.” *kiss* “How can I make it up to you?? I’ll do anything”

• oh you’d grin a that. You choose to either do dress up WITH make up or draw on his face and mess around with his hair. AND ice cream.

• You took soooo many pictures (and you may or may have not shared them with Viva, Poppy, and his brothers) Clay says he hates you for it, but secretly believes it was so worth it to see that sparkle in your eyes

• he bought you a piggy and a spider (with little bb spiders) stuffie. Even if you have arachnophobia, you hugged those stuffies while crying happy tears. You gave him a tight hug which he softly returned and gave you a forehead kiss.

• (This whole event was also the birth of your happy scrapbook club!! (even though it just you :} ) )

• You and Clay will just sit together while reading different things. Him with some well recognized and praised novel or book and you with a happy lil scrapbook in your hands!

• I’d also like to think he has a puppet character like Bandit does with unicorse! (Maybe a dragon but that just me :])

• (Clay and Branch be matching with their ventriloquism skills lol)

• If you seem to be clumsy or fall often he starts to develop a sort of spider sense for it and will catch you before disaster happens

• OKOK I know this is gonna sound random buuuut I believe Clay is the type to carry lollipops, and sometimes other candy, around. Idk like I can just picture him a with a lollipop in his mouth trying to look all serious/mysterious and nonchalant LOL

• ANYWAYS back to the Agere stuff

• I think that after completing a task or being good, Clay would def give his kiddo a lollipop as a treat!! that orrrrr if his kiddo seems to be regressing in public and they really want/need a paci or just something to fixate on then boom!!! Lollipop! :D

• Talking about rewards

• This man would sooooo spoil you!! you’re his treasure and he wants you to know it!!

• He’ll either get you food you’ve been craving or a stuffed animal/little gear orrrr both!!

• (Because of the two of you, you now have a chest fuuuull of stuffies Woops💧)

• You always try to show your appreciation by giving him small handmade gifts!! A lil pop up card, bead bracelets (you definitely have matching bracelets), even something crocheted/knitted, and pretty much any arts n crafts you can make!

• Now onto funny business ( •̀ - • )!

• so ofc when it first came to having fun and being playful with you he was bit scared

• can you blame him???

• He’d spent A LOT of time trying to get rid/away from the tittle of being the fun boy

• Ofc through lot of reassurance you let him know that he can have fun and play with you and still be a very serious caregiver!

• you help him understand that being funny and silly every once in a while doesn’t hurt and that he should try to find a balance that work for him! Which he eventually does :D!!

• I like to believe that he’d be great at playing pretend and hide and seek!

• “Worry not your highness!! You will protect you from the dragon!” (It’s one of your plushies)

• “Wherever could my kiddo be?? They must have turned invisible!!” (he can hear your giggles which just makes his smile wider)

• Although he really tries to be there for you, he’s a reaaaally busy man :((( but he still tries to spend time with you through parallel play! While he’s doing his grown up paperwork, you get to colooor!! (or draw or scrapbook or anything really) as long you promise to be good and not distract him

• (plus the sooner he’s done the sooner he can give you all his attention! so it’s a win-win situation :D)

• Actually if you were feeling extra lil you’d just get a paper and scribble on it with crayon trying to copy Clay’s mannerisms (when he sees this he’s physically holding himself back from just picking you up, cradling you, and just babying you waaaah you’re gonna be the end of him)

• oh and he would sooo keep your little artworks in his working area (they bring a sweet smile to his face and warm his soul you’re the best kiddo he could have ever asked for)

• You also get to have cuddles while he works! Sometimes he’ll just sit you on his lap with a stuffie or two while he wraps an arm around you and litters your head or face with kisses!

• Now onto not so funny business ૮๑ˊᯅˋ๑ა

• sometimes Clay’ll have a rough or tiring day :((

* and that’s okk caregivers have their moments too!

• He’ll usually want to cuddle with you and hold you close. (You are his stuffie :D)

• He might even tickle you or blow raspberries on your tummy (if you give him permission ofc!!) which often leaves you with a giggling and squirming fit.

• He just loves seeing you laugh and smile (especially if it’s him who made you happy :] you just brighten his day so much sometimes)

• One time he was just so tired and just laying down on the couch and then you brought one stuffie to him and then two till you pretty much had him buried under almost all of your stuffies!!

* You then proceeded to lay on top of him, and Clay just sticks both arms out from under the pile while smiling softly with his eyes closed.

• Let’s just say you guys woke up with stuffed animals scattered eeeeeverywhere

• If you’re a kiddo/baby who tends to get overwhelmed easily, he’ll get you some noise canceling/dampening headphones and just wraps you in a soft blanket like a little burrito.

• He’ll also either get you an eye mask or will lower the lights if he can. (And if you’re feeling lil enough then a paci too!!)

• After doing any of this, he’ll just bring you onto his lap and whisper sweet lil nothings to you till you feel better or seem to fall asleep :D!

• would enforce a bed time >:( (he is a very very veeeery serious guy after all)

• but luckily bedtime means a bottle or sippy of sweet sleepy tea and a storyyyy :D!!

• Forehead kisses!! (CALL ME BIASED CAUSE I LOOOOOVE FOREHEAD KISSES but I stand by what I say.

• Oh and if he’s ever gonna to be very busy for the day and he won’t be able to take care of his kiddo, he’d ask Viva to help him take care of you!!

• Plus who doesn’t love babysitter Viva??? She’s so energetic and fun with you, but she’ll definitely tone it down for you 💛

• she’s also super strong so she’ll definitely carry you or give you a piggy back ride if you ask :>!

• She also give you lots of candies and sugary foods but shhhhh don’t tell Clay itsa secret (but I think the sugar rush/crash you have when he picks you up from Viva’s tells him more than enough

• (I feel like he would trust all his brothers with you (especially Bruce) except JD 😭😭)

• He would sooooo grab your cheeks and squeeze them like he did to Branch when first seeing him again

• Expect him to do that whenever he just wants to dote on you and baby you even if you’re feeling bigger than usual he just loves youuuu! 💚💚💚

In summary: I need this man bc he is the bestest boyfriend and caregiver ever!!

Final notes!:

I love likes but comments and reposts are greatly appreciate (I love to talk if you can’t tell) type something out and let me know what you think 💗💗

If anybody would like to use any of the hcs/scenarios for a fanfic tots fine with me just don’t forget to tag me for credit and so I can see it :DD!!

#I’m saying this even though there’s like NO ONE under the agere tag for this fandom.#Which is surprising like where are you all???? Huh?!?! Huh?!?!#Like c’mon it’s agere galore! Colors! Music! AND Family reunion and Love!!#Plus two great and amazing and lovable villains #Branch was literally abandoned as a baby! (Plus other brothers also have problems/struggles)#Just take the bait and write/do Agere stuff for them!! 😭😭(help I sound mean but I meant that in a nice way)#but I get it the fandom feels like it’s dying on here. I just got here y’all don’t die on me already 😭😭)#(Genuinely don’t think anyone wanted this but oh well I’m sending it out to the world with a mission to complete #which is bring happiness!!)#(mostly for myself tho lol)#I can’t believe I did all of this instead of a college essay #trolls agere #clay #sfw agere #trolls 3 #age regression #being brave out here and using clay x reader in the post just to see what happens #if i get any hatred i’ll immediately remove it :/

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dangans-ur-ronpas · 7 months

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byakuya togami is someone who suffered through a competition that didn't recognize family ties or status, and so in the events of thh he believes he exists as a being outside of the game - not that he thinks he's not a participant, but he's more like someone who is above all the others. someone who's seen this scenario before and knows how it goes, and can know the characters well enough to predict all the plot twists. his actions of chapter 2 are exactly for the reason he said; to make things more interesting, to purposely throw a wrench into the investigation and raise the stakes for everyone, himself included, because he is someone who exists outside the spheres of existence for all these people. he never doubted that he wouldn't have been able to save himself at the end of it, because the characters - as bumbling as they were - would have figured it out. he can manipulate the corpse because it is a doll to him, because chihiro was never a 'real' person in his eyes. and neither was anyone else.

(even kyoko and makoto were characters, albeit annoying, observant ones. the ones that looked out of the pages and back at the reader, that you can't help but see parts of yourself in, flaws and all, until they look back at you and point out all the flaws you never noticed in yourself. they're always surprising him, being unpredictable, and it makes this game feel less like a contrived theater play and more like a real competition).

what chapter 4 does is it destroys those conceptions. aoi literally slaps him into reality, because she should have been just another character beneath him, outside of his realm of existence, someone who never should have been able to even dream of interacting with him in such away. he can really get hurt here. he doesn't get shaken up by it, but it irks him. he thinks he knows everything about everyone involved, because for his life up until that point, he's had to learn and know, had to roughly understand the thoughts and drives of the common masses so they can be manipulated and the beliefs and motives of people like him so he could outdo his siblings.

but then during the trial, he gets surprised, he gets proven wrong, and he doesn't understand, and it needs to be explained to him by someone he previously considered lesser. because despite everything that he's done and accomplished, he has never tried to understand the meaning of human connection and just how far people might be willing to go for the sake of those bonds - and without that understanding, he is no better than any of the others around him.

#byakuya togami #danganronpa #(gazes through lens of orv). man.....#reccommend reading omniscient reader's viewpoint to anyone btw. top ten things that changed my brainwaves of all time #byakuya togami you are a terrible terrible person. i want to inspect you under a microscope #this is also part of why tonaegiri is so sososoososo important to me btw. fyi. if you cared #kyoko is someone who thinks she knows the meaning of human bonds. hence her comforting makoto post-sayaka's death about the 11037 #but makoto is the one who is most familiar with it all bc unlike kyoko and byakuya he hasn't been betrayed up to that point by his family #and so he CAN bring himself to understand what love trust and mutual understanding can do to someone #makoto naegi ultimate son of a normal healthy family #my thoughts

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spaceyflowerswriting · 1 year

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HII idk if u write for gun ( lookism ) but would it be alright if I request a gun x reader fluff? That’s all! Ty:))

beauty in you (gun park x reader)

details: fluffy drabble, gender neutral reader written in 2nd pov, general canon au, you and gun are coworkers dating

summary: a silly conversation with kouji makes gun realize you've become a very dear part of his life.

a/n: i do <3!! he's one of my faves to write; thanks for requesting!!

inspired by the last prompt on this post 💖

"...Really?"

"What?"

Kouji pointed to the headband Gun was currently wearing, the fluffy cat ears on them being a large contrast to his serious demeanor. "If I asked you to wear that, you would've asked me what color I'd want my coffin to be."

"Hm. Really?" Gun smirked out of amusement when the purple haired highschooler gave his arm a light slap.

"Seriously, I've never seen you make so many exceptions for someone before." Kouji huffed and pointed with a thumb at you, which you didn't notice because you were too busy singing with Crystal. "They've really got you wrapped around their finger."

"Please," scoffed Gun, "Is it so strange I enjoy the company of someone? And it's not as if I don't do these things with Goo, either. Just the other day we were at a karaoke like this one."

"Yeah, but you kinda grumble when you agree! With them you just agree right away."

"Your point?"

Kouji let out a deep sigh. "You know what it is? I think they made you soft, at least towards them."

Soft...? Soft?

Never in a million years would Gun ever describe himself with such a word, nor would he imagine someone else would use it in reference to him. Yet at this moment, he could sort of understand why Kouji would say what he did.

He shook his head anyway, turning his attention back to you, adoring your bright smile that even his sunglasses couldn't protect his eyes from as he said, "They made me appreicate something I've yet to experience, that's all. I see no problem with it."

When Kouji made a gagging sound, Gun turned his head back to see him grimacing. "Am I hallucinating? Gun wearing cat ears and saying the most disgustingly cheesy ass thing I've ever heard?"

Gun just chuckled. "Is now a good time to ask what color you would like your coffin?"

"Man..."

[below is extra characterization stuff i started with but then realized i was just rambling instead of writing a story but i liked it enough to keep it]

When others say that beauty was found in people, Gun could agree, but perhaps not in a way one would usually think. For him, it wasn't the kindness or smiles humanity shared that he found beautiful, but physical talent instead--people so skilled, they were on the tip of almost being non-human.

The most flexible gymnast, the fastest swimmer... and most of all, the strongest human; particularly when it came to fighting. Yes, to Gun, there was just something beautiful about the way one could perfectly move themselves to inflict maximum damage, through technique and knowing the right weak spots. Not to mention, knowing there was hard work put behind to maintain such strength and knowledge made it even more beautiful to him.

Of course, there was also talent in itself that fascinated Gun. Anyone could achieve enough through hard work, but not everyone was born with natural talent.

So... why did he find beauty the "normal" way in you? As far as he knew, you couldn't fight, and all you've done was just be yourself. Your personality achieved some sort of dynamic with him where for once he enjoyed the company of someone in a peaceful way. In fact, he wouldn't mind spending the rest of his life with someone like you. It was a strange feeling, but he was sure of it. Emotions weren't too complicated for someone as straightforward as him, after all.

Nonetheless, perhaps he could argue that your talent was making him smile, and for that, he could appreciate the beauty in you; your talent.

#lookism x reader #gun park x reader #requests #a bit of this was inspired by li bringing up in some tags about how gun might be more fun than we think ^_^ <3 #ALSO SORRY I DIED FOR A FEW DAYS #i was going on about how i could at least publish love letters/text replies but then that ended up being a lot for me bc my schoolweek-#got busy and i wanted to do sumn other than writing to relax/procrastinating 😭😭😭#my semester is ending tho so hopefully that means assignments slow down and i can work on requests in peace 😔

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shibaraki · 1 year

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it is easy to get stuck on numbers and engagement and what trope / rating gets more attention or kudos than another but ultimately you should write for the audience you want. it’s far more rewarding that way

#like when I would force myself to write fem reader when I first started doing insert fic lol #yeah the smut did numbers but I was so uncomfortable and was not vibing well with my audience bc I felt inauthentic #having started from scratch post-pandemic when the interest was ‘dying out’ I understand how a new blog might feel like they need to get #their foot in the door by pandering to a wider audience like that #but writing what you enjoy or find interesting will always bring you the audience you crave #even it is it smaller than others #sorry 2 ramble #there’s a lot of ‘write for yourself’ around which: I agree with !!!!! but I also wanted to say this. I suppose they go hand in hand

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alienaiver · 1 year

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Birthday keychains

Sugawara Koushi x gn!reader

made for @cup-of-fluff ‘s birthday!

warnings: there’s mentions of a birthday being held alone but otherwise super fluff for my fluff-queen! wordcount: 1.7k content: fluff, post-timeskip, sfw, birthday present to a friend!, gender neutral reader, canon compliant, reader is also a teacher but the subjects are undefined, confessions, unbeta’d, no use of y/n, comfort, sugawara thinks hes smooth in theory but suddenly halts when he needs to put it into practice,

notes: i am LATE! LATE LATE LATE like the rabbit in alice! it was my precious friend, luna’s birthday around 10 days ago but sadly my brain wasn’t working those days, so i hope youll still accept this even if im late!!!! ilsym, i hope you still had a good day even if the plans weren’t big <3 i was thinking of you the entire day!!!

Sugawara stretches his arms over his head and yawns, grateful that he was able to end his class a little early. Mondays can be rough for anyone and he can definitely feel the jitters from his students rub off on him during the last stretch of the afternoon, too. So when the opportunity rose, he took it.

He likes to treat them sometimes, too.

So now he’s on his way back to the teacher’s lounge to grab a cup of coffee and work through the final part of this year’s curriculum – there’s some gaps he has to fill in from another teacher retiring, making him impromptu take over some classes. Usually, he’s more prepared than this.

He nears class 2-A that he knows you’re currently teaching and as he passes, he hears ruckus and scattered cheering before the sliding door flings open.

On her way out, a student named Sakura looks back into the classroom and yells out, “oh, and Happy Birthday again!” before she runs out into the hallway, followed by her classmates.

Birthday? Who?

“Thank you, Sakura!” he hears your voice yell out from the room and he can’t stop himself from popping his head into the doorframe to make sure he heard right. You’re by the teacher’s desk, gathering up papers, small talking with the students still fizzling it out in waves.

“My, my, is it my favorite teacher’s birthday?” Sugawara leans against the frame and try to send you what he hopes is a charming smile and the way you perk up gives him hope.

You laugh at him sheepishly as you put the stack of papers against your chest, seemingly trying to gather yourself, your cheeks burning. You don’t look him in the eyes as you near him. He thinks you’re adorable.

“…Yeah,” you admit, passing him into the hallway but you stop to signal that you want him to follow you. His lips feel wobbly as he happily pushes himself off of the doorframe to follow you down the hall.

There are many things that he loves about being a teacher but he has to admit that one of his favorite parts is the interactions he gets to have with you. Your smile brightens any day, no matter how grey and the habit that the two of you have worked out with the morning coffee in the teacher’s lounge is the best part of his day.

“So… Why was I not aware that today’s your birthday?” he asks as he matches your pace, keeping an eye to dodge the unruly students running around the hallways. He’s supposed to scold them for running, the back of his mind reminds him, but he’s too focused on you. It’s an interesting thing, to keep a birthday hidden. Says a lot about a person.

You seem to straighten your back, “oh!”

You then sigh and relax again, “I’m not sure. Just didn’t think it was that important to mention.”

Sugawara inwardly winces – he’s afraid he hasn’t been clear enough about his intentions of getting closer to you. Whether or not you’d ever return his feelings romantically (he might be going too far with his wistful thinking he reprimands himself), he’s still very much interested in a friendship. Maybe he hasn’t been clear enough?

“What!” he exclaims, surprise so evident on his face that you stop in your tracks, your eyes locked to his expression. He then says your name with fervor and subconsciously reaches out for your hands but stops himself in the last second.

“I would’ve gotten you a present!” he confesses, pouting before he turns his back and starts walking. He hopes you follow. It’s been a while since he’s used flirting tactics that he used to teach Sawamura. He feels silly and he wipes the palms of his hands on his pantleg, hoping you don’t take notice.

“No, you really shouldn’t!” your voice sounds strained as you follow him. He slides open the door to the teacher’s lounge and signals for you to enter first. When you’re in, he hurries ahead of you to grab you a cup of coffee, bowing slightly as he hands it to you. You chuckle at his antics, shaking your head in affectionate confusion, “what is this, Sugawara?”

He smiles warmly at you, “you deserve royal treatment on a day as today!”

You sit down by your desks next to each other and Sugawara sorts through a bunch of papers to look important. He clears his throat and tries to sound as nonchalant as possible, “so, are there any exciting birthday plans today?”

You hum out a reply that he can’t discern, not looking up from your papers either. He leans his head on his palm and looks towards you, “I bet you’ll be treated to tons of fun, right?”

You stop what you’re doing and sigh, collecting yourself before you confess, “actually… nothing special’s going to happen this year. I’ll probably treat myself to my favorite dish at the Family Mart and watch my favorite show at home, feet on the coffee table.”

You wince at the way Sugawara’s hand falls to his desk in surprise. You knew he’d react like this, he’s a good guy. But bringing up your birthday felt intimate and you weren’t sure how close you were. Maybe he’d think you were attention seeking or fishing for presents if you mentioned it – what if he only saw you as a work acquaintance?

He inhales sharply before he turns his head back down to his desk again, continuing his mock-work. “What’s your favorite at Family Mart then?”

You pause at the question. That was unexpected. You tell him with an unsure voice, ending it in a question mark. He hums and smiles at you, “I’ve never tried that one. Can I join?”

“Eh?”

It’s all you get out before he laughs warmly at you, the bright smile blinding you as he once again leans on his palm (which really is a charming position for him), “it sounds like the perfect start of the week!”

You nod, processing what he just asked. Before you can come up with a yes or no, you mentally walk through the state of your apartment. Is it messy? Have you left anything out in the open?

You’re safe, you conclude. So you nod again, “I mean… if you don’t have anything else to do?”

He laughs again, “nothing as important as this!”

You reach the Family Mart with your palms sweating, the distance between your hands so close that your heart is currently stuck in your throat. He’s so close. It’s close enough so that if you just swung your hand slightly, you’d touch him.

And then you could hold onto it.

You shake your head at the thought to collect yourself. After picking up the drinks you want and the meals, you go to the counter.

“Would you like me to heat it up?” the cashier asks and you politely decline, looking for your wallet.

“Would you like a bag?”

You nod and she starts collecting your items in the bag for you. You announce you want to pay with card but Sugawara puts a final item on the counter and announces, “I’m paying with cash for it all.”

It’s a keychain. It’s not fancy or big. It’s a little black crow in chibi-style. You’re frozen in confusion staring at the small item, following it as the cashier puts it in the bag as well.

You’re not back in your own body before Sugawara gently pushes you by your back to signal you to move, and he guides you out the store, bag in hand.

When you get out you stop in your tracks, “ah! Did you get the receipt? I’ll pay half!”

Sugawara shakes his head with a smile as he goes through the content of the bag, exclaiming a small sound of victory when he finds what he needs. He pulls out the keychain and hands it to you, his cheeks burning red.

“I swear I would’ve gotten you something way better if I’d been prepared. I’ll even make it up to you with a delayed present at another time! but I thought you might… like this… one as a small substitute.”

He laughs awkwardly when you neither reply nor move. Did he mess up? “You don’t have to… accept it, if you don’t like it…”

That makes your brain restart as you inhale, “please! Don’t think I don’t like it! I’m just…” you struggle to search for words but decide to just hold out your palms, “I really, really love it… and that’s two really’s!” he seems to visibly relax as he puts the small item in your palm, flinching at the contact with your hand – he wants to grab onto it so badly, “I think I’m just… overwhelmed, I must admit.”

Sugawara sighs deeply, “phew, I’m so glad I didn’t weird you out!” he admits and you hurry to shake your head, “no! No… you could never! I just wasn’t sure of… how the closeness of our relationship.”

Sugawara’s mouth opens and closes soundlessly. He’s not sure if he should tell you now – it feels like the perfect time but what if he’s reading it wrong? He straightens his back and steels his resolve.

Without thinking, he bows. He grimaces as he looks at the ground – that move wasn’t part of his confession plans he’s made up in his head the past few months.

“I actually really, really like you! With two really’s!”

He’s afraid to straighten his back and look you in the eye. There are so many emotions going through him right now, fear being the most prevalent one.

You clench the keychain in your hands, the meaning of it soaring through the sky even higher than when he first gave it to you. You smile as you say his name with a wobbly tilt to your tone, “I like you, too.”

Sugawara wants to pump his arms into the air in victory but he settles on just looking up at you with stars shining in his eyes, “really!? That’s amazing!” he leans forward to hug you and you yelp out in surprise. You don’t hold back from taking in his scent though – it fits the one you’ve been imagining for so long.

“Happy birthday, again.” He whispers into your head and you laugh into his chest, “this might be the best one yet.”

#FIRST OFF I HOPE ITS ACTUALLY JUNE 5TH BCOS THATS WHAT I REMEMBER? AND MY TUMBLR ALSO CONFIRMS BUT THEN I GOT PARANOID. WHAT IF!!!! ITS A TI #MEZONE THING SO U POSTED UR BIRTHDAY POST ON JUNE 5TH FOR /ME/ IN MY TIMEZONE BUT IT WAS /ACTUALLY/ THE SIXTH? IM SO AFRAID LMFAO ILYSM LUNA #i hope you forgive if the date is off :( I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS! MWUAH #MWUAH #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #sugawara koushi x reader #sugawara koushi fluff #haikyuu fluff #ANYWAYS i hope this brings a smile to ur face luna !!! he'd definitely give u a KICKASS gift two days after bcos he RAN to buy it the day af #ter and then gave it FIRST THING in the morning afterwards!!!!!! its exaCTLY hwat u wanted and needed and ur baffled at how he knew #god imagine........... such a handsome man confessing on r bday!!!!!!!#nohr.writing #nohr.hq

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