#but at the very least i'd be happy to make them for myself <3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

penelopepine · 29 days

Text

Elephant in the Room Pt. 4

Part 3 Part 4

Summary: John and you hooked up after a night at the bar. You two after that never saw each other again. At least until 12 years later when Price discovers that 9 months after your time together you had given birth to not one baby, but two. Word Count: 2309

Price continues to avoid you even after getting back to base. That seems to be what you want right now as well if the glare you shoot his way when he attempts to carry a few of the bags inside was anything to go by. With that in mind he swiftly made his retreat; leaving the rest of the team to help the two of you get settled while he excused himself on account of needing to do some paperwork.

His mind was racing far too much for him to truly focus on that though. Price tries to stay away, but after a few hours he can't help but find himself at your door once more today. Things like this do require space, but they also need to be discussed as soon as possible lest resentment and anger continue to grow. Ghost's words from earlier echoing in his mind.

He knocks firmly on the door, and waits to see if you'll open the door, and surprisingly you do. You don't seem surprised to see him either. The two of you stand there in silence for what feels like hours before your moving, and gesturing for him to come inside.

The silence continues even after the door shuts and you lead him to the living room. Price sits across from you, and only then does he finally speak, "I know the things that have been happening are my fault, and I'm- I'm sorry. I am going to fix things though. The only thing I'm begging of you is that I get a chance to talk to Amelia and Andrew."

“No, no this isn’t your fault John. I shouldn’t have implied that I thought it was earlier. It’s just- everything is happening so fast; I mean just a few days ago everything was perfectly normal, and now it feels like I’m in an unending nightmare.” You explain to him before taking a calming breath, “Would you … like to talk to Amelia tomorrow? She was asking about you earlier, and I admittedly didn’t have any answers for her”

“May I ask how much they do know about me; about us?”

It's here where he sees a wave of sadness hit you. "They know just about as much as I do. I told them your name, that you were a lieutenant when I met you, and that you were kind. They also know that we weren't any official. Would be a bit hard to lie about not knowing your last name if I said we were."

Price softly whispers your name before continuing, "I shouldn't have left like I did, love. You didn't deserve that. Maybe things would be different now if I did."

"I tried to find you John, I wanted things to be different."

"There was only so much you could have done. Heaven knows there are hundreds of 'Johns' in the military." He pauses here thinking about the conversations he's had with you today, "I still haven't properly introduced myself to you."

You let go of a soft laugh at his words. This might be the first time seeing any sort of happiness on your face since meeting you again. "Well go on then! I'd love to finally know my children's father's name."

"John Price, and it's captain now."

"Captain John Price." You look at him with a soft smile, "it suits you."

He likes the way you say his name. It only makes him wish he could have told you it all those years ago. You both sit in comfortable silence for a moment before he asks, "Were you serious about letting me talk to Amelia tomorrow?"

"Maybe- maybe you could come by for lunch; talk to her then."

"I'd like that." He answers you with a gentle tone. "What is she like; what is Andrew like?"

Your eyes are soft and smile sweet as you reply to him, "Amelia … She's a good kid; smart too, but a little spitfire that one. I don't think that girl has ever been afraid of confrontation. Very blunt, I'll warn you now about that. I'd prepare yourself for some hard questions from her."

"Good to know," Price nods at the information you've shared. He can only imagine right now what a kid who's meeting their father for the first time in 12yrs could ask. "And Andrew?"

"Football is life is a phrase I'm pretty sure he actually lives by with how much I've heard him say it." You lightly chuckle at your words, and wipe a fallen tear from your cheeks before continuing, "He's a sweet boy though; always wanting to include others in whatever he does."

"They sound like great kids." He pauses for only a moment, "You're a good mum."

Your eyes snap up to meet him when you hear this with surprise shining through your face. "Thank you," your voice cracks out.

Price takes a moment of silence before speaking again, "It's late and I don't want to keep you up any longer, love."

You walk him to the door, and before you shut it you whisper, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow." Hell or high water he'll be here tomorrow. He won't let you down again.

It's the next morning and only a few hours until his first conversation with his daughter when Laswell decides to make a sudden appearance in his office. “John.”

“Laswell,” He addresses her, “what you got for me?”

She steps up to his desk and immediately hands him a folder, “Information about who took Andrew.”

Instantly opening up the folder Price sees the name of the same group who had managed to take him captive for a few hours months ago. He had always thought that the interrogation had been odd. They didn’t ask for any information, any codes, or any future plans the team had. Instead they had swabbed his mouth, and left him alone for most of his time there.

Looking back on it now though their intentions are becoming more clear. They didn’t want to simply torture information out him; they wanted to take something seemingly much more important to him. This was in the plans for much longer than he realized.

Flipping through the other pages he sees a printed scene shot of a DNA test website. It shows a profile with his name being listed as father above Andrews’. That's how they found Andrew it seems; by a stupid online genetic test.

"Where are we now on getting him back?"

"We have a basic location on their base of operation as of now. Be prepared to be sent out on a moment's notice; even for today. We're getting this kid back as soon as we can."

"I can agree with you on that. Has anything else been sent to us since the video?"

Laswell shakes her head at him, "Nothing as of yet. Which we should take as a good thing. Hopefully that means Andrew has been left alone for the most part."

"We can only hope."

She takes a step closer to him, and gives his shoulder a quick squeeze, "We're going to get him back, John.” With a slight pause she continues, “What about the girls; how have things been with them?”

“Well I’ve been allowed to have a conversation with Amelia today so things are doing good, all things considered.”

“Yeah? Are you ready for that?”

“Laswell.”

“Yes, John?”

“How do you talk to 12 year old girls?”

Laswell gives a small chuckle at Price’s question, “Don’t treat her like a soldier for one, and two … I’d just be honest about whatever questions she might have. She probably already feels like her life has been turned upside down. The last thing she wants right now is to be treated like she can’t handle knowing the truth.”

“So just be honest about everything?”

“Well she is 12 so there are going to be things you’ll probably want to explain in a more age appropriate way, but 12 year olds aren’t babies; they can handle having a serious conversation.”

“And what if she’s angry?” Price can’t help but ask. Of all things, that is the one that he’s not sure how to properly react to or handle that.

Laswell merely sighs at him, “She’s going to be angry. You just need to stay calm, actively listen to what she says, and don’t take everything she says out of anger to heart. Especially with how crazy her life is right now.”

He doesn’t say anything else right away; thinking about what Laswell had just said to him. As always she’s right; Amelia is most likely going to be angry. He knows if he was in her position he would be. “Thank you Laswell.”

“No problem John.” She then turns around and walks out of the office.

Once alone he takes out the photo he had taken from the first folder Laswell had given him; the one that showed all three of you smiling together. Price thinks about how once he gets Andrew back he'll make sure all of you can be together like that again.

It was noon right on the dot when Price stepped inside your house once more. The first thing he noticed was how delicious it smelt inside. It really made him think for a moment about how long it’s been since he’s had a meal that wasn’t from the base cafeteria.

You both exchange slightly awkward greetings with one another before you lead him into the dinning room where Amelia is already sitting at the table; a notepad sits in front of her. Price stops in the arch way as he watches you walk over to her, and give her shoulder a squeeze.

“Lunch is almost ready; it’ll just be a few more minutes.” You move your head between Amelia and him, “While I’m finishing up you two can have a talk. Amelia, come get me if you need to.” You say before nervously exiting the room.

With you gone now it just leaves Price and Amelia alone to have what he can already tell is going to be a hard conversation. He makes his way further into the room and sits across from her with a hand extended, “Hello, Amelia. I’m John; John Price.”

He watches as his daughter takes a calming breath as she extends her hand to shake his as well, “Hello, … John.”

She sounds unsure saying his name which he can understand. Price didn’t come in here expecting her to call him any sort of partial name; that is something he hopes later on she’ll be comfortable giving him. That time is not now though, now is the time to build trust.

“I heard you had some questions for me, and I promise to do my best to answer them for you,” He slightly motions towards the notepad.

At the mention of questions Amelia seems to immediately perk up; even flipping her notepad open to reveal several lines of text. Price unfortunately couldn’t read it from this distance. It seems all nervousness from her has been thrown out the window though.

The first few questions were basic get to know you questions. Things like age, birthday, and where did he grow up. Price noted how this felt more like an interrogation rather than a talk which actually eased his nerves a bit; she strangely reminded him of Laswell at this moment.

Those kind of questions could only last for so long though before you started asking about things currently going on. “Have there been any updates about Andrew?”

“We’re hoping to retrieve him any day now.” Price hesitantly answers; unsure of how much he should really be discussing with her. “You’ll get your brother back soon.”

“And afterwards?”

“Hmm?”

"So like … what's going to happen afterwards then? You keep saying you're going to get Andrew back, but what about after that?" Amelia questions him, "Are you just going to save the day and all these years without you don't matter anymore because of that, or are things going to go back to when we never knew you?"

“Amelia!” Your voice rings out from the other side of the room.

Price doesn’t know how, but you had managed to come into the room with him noticing. He puts a calming hand up to you, and softly says your name before continuing, “No, it’s ok it’s a valid question to ask,and the answer truthfully is that I don’t know what is going to happen afterwards. That is something your mum and I have yet to discuss.”

"What do you want to happen?" You are now sitting next to Amelia with a comforting hand on hers.

"I- I don't know." She says as her head hangs low and picks at her nails.

"That's ok; You don't have to know." You stand up and gently help Amelia out of her chair, "Why don't you come and help me bring out the dishes?"

Price watches as you both leave; knowing that you wanted to have a private conversation without him present. It only takes a few minutes for you both to return, Amelia mood seems to have risen based on the easy smile on her face.

The conversation that follows is stilled in the beginning, but quickly becomes livelier as Amelia talks about her friends and upcoming school year. Everything for just a moment feels calm, but of course nothing can last forever.

A loud rapid knocking sound rings through the house; stopping any conversations in an instant. Price is the first one to stand and walk towards the door. He knows that whoever is on the other side is most likely looking for him anyway.

“Captain.” Gaz stands before him, a serious look on his face. “Laswell needs us in the debriefing room. It’s time to get your boy.”

Taglist: @zarsghost @lulurubberduckie @mafer383 @7thsthings @sazifer

#x reader #john price #john price x reader #captain john price #price x reader #john price x you

149 notes · View notes

berryz-writes · 3 months

Text

Not yet

Azriel x reader

Summary: Your not ready to tell Azriel's family your mates in fear of them not liking you

note: It's just Az being the standard and the cutest shit ever. Also its pretty short im sorry lovelies <3

"I don't want to. Not yet" I murmured to Azriel, snuggling closer to his warmth. His hands ran up and down my back, sending small shivers down my spine.

"And why is that, sweetheart?" He replied, his voice slightly hoarse from having just woken up, pressing small kisses to my face. I opened my eyes and tried to get used to the light in the room. It was a Saturday, one of the days Azriel was content to just lie in bed with me with no commitments for the rest of the day.

"I just...I don't think they'll like me. I know it's stupid but I don't know them well enough. What if they think I'm using you or don't actually love you? What if they convince you that I'm not good enough?" I waited for him to say something. I didn't usually have anything bad to say against his family but I was never comfortable around new people. Especially if they were such important figures in our court. A slight sigh left his lips "Y/n. Do you really think I'd stop loving you if one of them told me to?...not that they would"

I sat up and tucked my hair behind my ear, his heat suddenly too much. "No but it's not just that. Imagine I say something wrong. I know their your family but their also high lord and lady. What if I say something...I don't know politically wrong? They'll laugh at me and think how in the world are us two mates."

Azriel moved his arm around my waist and pulled me back to lay down on the bed, his hand moving through my hair in a soothing motion. "They will think nothing of the sort because you are perfect. But if it makes you feel better we can wait for as long as you want. Feyre was talking about inviting the wonderful florist tomorrow. Accept her offer and get to know everyone a bit"

I thought about it and slowly nodded my head. "Fine."

Azriel was right because Feyre did invite me the next day.

"Y/n! Oh these are gorgeous! You've outdone yourself" Feyre said admiring the bouquet I had prepared

I smiled and handed her the card with all my business details "Thank you high lady. If anyone asks where you got them from please give them this."

"Feyre, please. No formalities between us"

I nodded my head "Feyre it is then"

She turned her attention to the rest of the shop looking around the flower filled store "You have such a peaceful life. Living amongst flowers and smelling like roses all the time"

I let out a small laugh. Very peaceful. Sometimes a little too peaceful. "I suppose. Although it get's boring at times"

Feyre's eyes lit up in excitement "You should come to dinner tonight! It'll be something different for you and we can get to know each other more"

I thought about what me and Azriel had discussed earlier. Now was the perfect opportunity, to meet his family. "Oh...I don't want to intrude. I don't know-"

She shook her head "Nonsense. Your coming tonight. Everyone will be scrambling over each other to get to know you"

I looked around the store, hoping for a sign as to what I should do. The only sign I could see however was the open sign on the front door.

"Fine. I'll come. Thank you the for the invite high- Feyre"

She beamed and gave me a quick hug, slightly surprising me before walking out with her bouquet of flowers. I sighed. Well I suppose I better go home and change so I looked slightly decent at least.

*Dinner, a few hours later*

Azriel cleared his throat slightly before continuing "Did you want something lov- y/n?"

I paused and clenched my jaw at the slip up. The chatter at the table was luckily loud enough for no one to quiet hear what he was saying. This was the first time I had been happy for Cassian's loud voice. I shook my head "I'll get it myself, thank you" I reached over and picked up the dish, adding a few potatoes to my plate, trying not to gather attention towards us two. Really. Azriel wasn't very good at following instructions. If someone had heard that I don't know what I would have done.

Probably jumped out a window or something.

"Everything alright?" Rhys asked looking over at me first, then Azriel and then me again. I nodded my head quickly and gave him a smile "Fine, everything's fine" Azriel didn't reply merely nodding in agreement too.

I let out a sigh of relief when he turned away and took a sip of his wine. Luckily dinner passed with no other accidents happening. I watched as everyone took their seats in the living room, Feyre and Rhys cuddled up on the couch while the others sprawled here and there, Elain having gone up because of a headache.

Azriel stood half hidden by his shadows in the door way, I could sense him even though I couldn't see him without squinting my eyes.

Come to the kitchen. It's important

His voice echoed in my mind, his deep and low voice making me miss him even though he was just inches away. I got up making an excuse of needing water and walked over to the kitchen, past the dining room where we had just sat. Before I could process what was happening I was against a wall and Azriel's lips were on mine, his shadows cocooning us in a dark and peaceful bubble. He kissed me like he was starving and he couldn't get enough.

We finally pulled apart my hands resting on his chest "Azriel" I warned him, the lust filled look in his eyes ready to devour me. His hands ran up and down my body, my waist, my hips warming each part of me.

"I want to tell them. I want to tell them about my perfect and beautiful mate." He whispered his eyes dark and his hair falling forward onto his forehead. I pushed a strand away "I can't right now. I'm not ready"

I knew even if I shook my head once Azriel would understand. His hopeful expression dropped slightly but his lips remained in a small smile "Let me take you home now, sweetheart. I can't live without having you close to me"

I rolled my eyes but smiled all the same "Don't be so dramatic"

He didn't reply, instead tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear. "We're going" He said finally and winnowed us on the spot. I didn't even get to say goodbye to anyone but all thoughts left me as Azriel looked at me with his devilishly handsome grin.

MASTERLIST

#azriel x reader #acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel spymaster #acotar x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel fic #azriel x you #acotar series #azriel fanfic

286 notes · View notes

cats-artbag · 5 months

Text

SwapOut/Webcomic/Twitch PSA!

Hi everyone 👋🏻 Zk here >< or Cats, for older followers

So I've been getting back into doing SwapOut again, but I would like to appeal to everyone who reads and loves the comic. Much love to all of you who's still sticking around 🙏🏻💙 But something has also always been bothering me throughout this journey.

As many of us know, we artists do these comics for free (especially fan comics), starting them out of love and taking a LOT of time and energy out of our lives to continue making them.

And it's amazing how many of you come from translations or comic dubs on Youtube, which are also very well-done and take a lot of effort to make, much love to them too. There is a difference, however.

Monetization.

And I'm not asking for pity! I'm appealing for understanding.

Because some comic dubbers on Youtube are able to earn ad revenue from the videos they upload. From the beginning, we artists have given them the permission to dub our works. But we don't receive anything from it, nor do we usually charge them for using our art (against our better judgement).

We let them use our comic pages in their monetized videos for free. And occasionally these videos receive thousands and millions of views, which I imagine gives a decent amount of ad revenue, while the artists themselves don't usually earn anything from their own artwork, nor do we ever want to put it behind a paywall of any kind. (we like reading free comics too so don't worry x|)

... But doing full-colored comic pages for free eventually gets hard to sustain without any income from it, even more so when we need to give our time and energy to other jobs to earn money for a living instead. We legitimately keep going on our comics purely out of love. Truly, we would LOVE to do our own art for a living. There's things like Patreon but it's only feasible if we're also able to produce bonus content or show BTS, and only people willing to spend money for them can help us, and not readers who aren't able to.

And we understand that not everyone can afford to support us monetarily. And that's okay!

But if you love these comics and want to really help us to keep going, there ARE ways you can easily support us for free!

For example, affiliates on Twitch (like myself) are able to earn ad revenue very early on (they must have at least 50 followers, quite a requirement, but still easier to obtain than Youtube's 1000 subscribers).

(my Youtube, btw. not much rn but drop a subscribe?)

But simply put, if the vast majority of readers from the yt numbers visit and stay for ads on the artists' Twitch streams (remember to have adblocker disabled for the site, if any), they'll be making an actual, physical contribution to the artist themselves, at no cost whatsoever. We earn up to 55% from any ads that run on our stream, so the more viewers, the better!

(this is my twitch on average 8 viewers, with a 3 hour stream. again, the more the better!)

(ofc you can also buy subs to watch ad-free and supports me directly, but i'm typing all this to share the free ways people can support their fave creators ✨)

And even if that doesn't work out, I'd be happy enough to see most of you there 🙏🏻💙 I've been treating my streams as work, so I'm striving not to break the streak.

So drop a follow on my Twitch, and catch the streams when you can! They're great if you need company or background noise, and also great for co-working~

Currently streaming WEEKLY, Mondays, Wednesdays (SwapOut) and Saturdays, 10.30AM EST

(art by @cupcakepaints)

>> twitch.tv/zkcats <<

Anyway thanks for listening to my Ted talk, please share this around for others as well >< 🙏🏻 Artists, make this a reblog chain or something! Promo your stuff!

And apologies for the essay, I wasn't expecting to type this much sdghsgh this itself is not an ad for Twitch or whatev, I'm just a little frustrated with needing to juggle all this.

I was also considering hosting SwapOut somewhere that could get ad revenue, but I wasn't sure where until I realized I can probably earn that from my Tapas now (i think?? sdfhgh up to 70% ad revenue there but i haven't seen any yet) So maybe I'll post there a day earlier than here or something? We'll see. Go subscribe there! Check it out! Reread it! Help ME help YOU!

... Much appreciated ><

#catschats #undertale #webcomic #swapoutcomicupdate #typed this out mostly for people who aren't aware that ads support streamers etc.#im super tired now wheezee but im living

227 notes · View notes

messmersflame · 6 months

Text

wanna help me and my cats out?

hi im neo, and those four are my cats.

being physically disabled and unable to work, making sure that they get enough exercise and enrichment can be... taxing on myself to say the least.

their last cat trees recently broke, and they dont really have that many toys any more. while they do get outside on leashes, it's not regular enough due to my physical health being the main factor on if i can do that. they have a lot of shelves for climbing around the place, and i'm currently working on putting up some more and making a climbing surface with some carpet for them, but i'd still like to be able to have a bit more for them.

this is not to say that they arent happy and healthy- i go above and beyond for all four of them. the problem lies in that me needing to do more walks and things with them, as their current setup is not really adequate, means that i physically end up struggling for my own needs.

i have POTs, a degenerative spine condition, fibro, and a heart problem related to connective tissue disorder (currently being invesitgated). this along with my own mental issues makes things very exhausting! i always always put my cats first, but my own health then falls by the wayside. this has a cycle of me crashing and not being able to properly provide for them for a few days beyond just food.

i did also have another cat, who would be the main source of play and companionship for the last two cats pictured, especially his brother (third pictured). he unfortunately passed due to unforeseen medical issues that caused a severe unrinary blockage. ever since then, those two have been restless and often get into near-fights, as the brother specifically has the most energy and now doesnt have his bonded partner. he has even begun to harass the other two, which has led to at least a few actual fights with the oldest sister who is getting on a bit in years, so it's not good for her either.

more toys and areas to explore, and places for the others to hide, would be helpful in this!

i have a wishlist of things that would help make my cat's lives happier, and my life caring for them easier.

it's a UK amazon wishlist, however i will be looking at more local stores for any other options or things that i can get for them as well.

if you can't/prefer not to help via amazon, i have my paypal and revolut (please ignore the deadnames on both <3).

this is not an emergency, it would just really, really help my QOL and that of my cats. thanks for reading, reblogging, or helping <3

#for pinning #temporarily pinned :D

358 notes · View notes

signedeclipse · 2 years

Text

Signed with Love - Upper Moons

What is this? - A valentines gift to my lovely fem!readers! Its valentines/love letters cards from your favourites <3

Series Parts Kamaboko Squad - HERE The Hashira - HERE

Akaza

To the girl of my dreams, Happy valentines! I'm sure you thought i'd forget sorry about last year, but I've got plans and everything. Theres a light show in the city, if you want to come I'm sure we can stop for some snacks and i'll get you the best view of them. If that sounds like a plan, i'll be by your house the moment the sun goes down. Can't wait to see you dolled up, Akaza.

Daki

Dove, Free your schedule on the 14th, I won't let plans get in the way of us spending this year together after so many times of it falling through! Oiron duties always take precedent, but I'm sure I can pull some strings to spend the night with you, the "new" girl, to do some "training". Dress for the part, I know you can lie your way in. Good luck, even if I know you won't need it, 'Warabihime'

Douma

Hello, lovely! I am over the moon knowing i'll get to spend valentines with you again! I miss you more and more every day you are away... How about this year we sneak away from the cult and I show you someplace you might really enjoy, and we can pick up some treats you like to keep at the estate! Don't leave me waiting too long. You know who ♡

Gyokko

To my precious muse, This velentines marks a decade together, and I figure its about time I let you closer than ive let any other. I know I can be more conservative in sharing my art, but this year i'd like to take you into my studio and teach you some of my craft. You know where to find me. Wear something you don't mind having ruined. Gყσƙƙσ

Gyutaro

Angel, I promised i'd always ask, so I expect you to say yes when I ask you to be my valentine again. It's too risky to go out with being on the radar, so when you come back home keep low and we'll do something simple. I can't risk getting you in trouble. Don't stray too far, GT.

Hantengu

Dearest, If possible, I would really appreciate if maybe you might consider being my valentine Whatever you'd like is yours Please H/S/K/A/Uro/Z/Ura

Kaigaku

Princess, I know you'll say yes anyways, so instead ill congradulate you for keeping me intrigued for so long. Long enough to call you my valentine. I'll be home to see you the moment the sun drops, and we can spend all night hanging out. I like you better where no one else can chew on you like eye candy, so I'll bring some snacks you like if it keeps you inside, Don't get too flattered, Yours, Inadama

Kokushibo

To the most beautiful woman I know, I would be honoured if you would decide to be my valentine once again. If you are inclined to accept my invintation, know that not a drop of the night would be wasted on anything you wouldn't like. You know you can trust me. I anticipate your responce, 黒死牟

Muzan

To the only sunshine I require; With this letter is a box of clothing. It's all custom to your fit and yours now, pick whatever you like and wait outside the gates of tokyo by sundown tonight. We'll be visitng some places I know you've wanted to see, and I'll make sure it's not on an empty stomach. Don't leave me waiting, M. Kibutsuji

Nakime

My dearest lullaby I am not one to partake in holidays, however, I cannot help myself when it comes to you. I was hoping you would be my valentine; not just today, but in life as well. There is a concert hall I used to perform at, and I would like to bring you there to hear the music I was so very fond of. It is very formal, so if you need any help getting ready you have my assistance. I miss your sweet song, Nakime Otokawa

Authors Note - This took me so long ahhhh thank you for your patience darlings <3 The tags took me longer than writing this entire thing /j

Disclaimer - All characters within have been aged up to at least 18 or older, and have been altered to reflect such change as needed.

2K notes · View notes

daydream-the-demon · 1 month

Text

I've been thinking... The Theraprism doesn't seem to have good therapy methods, at least not for Bill.

From what's shown, Bill Cipher refuses to change for any reason, and honestly? You can't exactly blame him. If he does change, he'll be reborn as a being with no power or ability to think properly, he'll lose all his memories of his past (which yes the trauma will be cured, but everything else? All the good times he had? And that he lived for so long? You can't just lose that). He might have the same character, but he'll be completely different.

The thought of him losing himself is a strong one. Him redeeming himself will end up in him completely losing himself. He could redeem himself but still want to be himself and not be reborn.

As someone who suffered through trauma myself, I'd rather have gone through it and keep all my thoughts, power, and memories rather than ever be something that has never gone through it. It's honestly a difficult choice to make to either be reborn with no memories of your past self and not have the same power you used to have, and keep being the same person you are but with severe trauma. To be honest, from this perspective I'd rather just never exist anymore than be reborn.

And from what was seen of the Theraprism? I think their therapy methods might be a bit flawed for Bill Cipher. I think group therapy is not the most suitable for Bill Cipher, along with other things they do. I think it's genuinely not helping him. I haven't read too much into it, but from what I've seen, their methods, specifically for helping Bill Cipher, are flawed.

I realized what actually is wrong just now-

Bill Cipher is a stubborn character, and basing this off of myself, the more you argue with him, the more he's going to think that he's right.

Euclydia, he didn't mean to destroy his dimension. But he ended up doing it. Weirdmageddon, he was a king of a dying dimension, he didn't want to do what he did and kill an entire dimension again, so he ended up starting Weirdmageddon as there was no other way. In his perspective, he was doing only what was right, he WANTED to be a good person of a sort, though eventually he ended up being one of the worst people out there.

Also, I noticed, having an overly-happy front or expression can be a coping mechanism. Ignoring obvious signs, and laughing them off, is also a coping mechanism. Acting "insane" because that's how people perceive you so you act the way others think you are? ALSO A COPING MECHANISM. A lot of what Bill does are coping mechanisms, how do I know? I HAVE THEM MYSELF.

I also propose something, Bill Cipher has a lot of autistic-coded elements to him!

I am an autistic person myself, for context, and it may be just projecting, but seriously.

A long time ago I used to be obsessed with Bill Cipher. I was clueless about the fact I may be autistic (which explained a lot of things when I figured it out). I related to this character a lot, why? My phrases were "We're both outcasted from society", "We're both considered weird", and "We're both insane". And knowing what I know now, displaying yourself to be even MORE weird and MORE "insane" than you are is a form of autistic masking. (I'm not saying Bill Cipher is autistic, but from what I see is that he is very coded so.)

In the Book of Bill, in the morals section, he said to "think of something considered 'evil', now think of 3 reasons why they're actually good, you'll be rationalizing like me in no time!" (Paraphrasing but basically this.) My thought is that he just genuinely does not see why some things are considered 'evil'. There are genuinely good sides to most atrocious things. Murder? Ah, population control, people are disgusting anyway, destroying someone who wronged you (if you want to murder someone who is your enemy). Obviously, I don't think murder is "good", but Bill Cipher thinks like this. He genuinely does not understand why something "evil" is "evil" which of course not understanding the reasons for "bad" and "good" and why they exist can make you seem like you have a fucked up morality (which I myself struggle with too).

He has not been able to grow up in a society, and the ability to understand why morals are necessary, which can really fuck you up in a way.

He was trying to be good, good for his own needs and wants, and that was his morality. He wanted to help his own dying dimension and be a good person for his own dimension he was king of. A good king does whatever he can for his people, and that's what Bill tried to do. He wasn't trying to be a bad person, hell, if he was, he would've just ditched his dimension and not try to help at all. So in this context, he was just trying to be A GOOD PERSON.

Yes, he manipulated Ford, yes he killed many people on purpose, yes he caused nightmares for no reason. That is wrong, but again, Bill doesn't see why morality is necessary. He manipulated Ford to help his OWN DYING DIMENSION. He killed people because HE SAW PEOPLE AS DISGUSTING. He caused nightmares because HE WANTED TO SCREW WITH PEOPLE WHO WRONGED HIM. Bill Cipher is NARCISSISTIC, but in his narcissism he is selfless. He wanted to save his OWN dying dimension, but he wanted to save the dimension in itself too. There are so many points of this it's honestly insane.

So many people misunderstood him and his intentions though, and so everything that happened was seen as him trying to be a bad person.

He needs different shiz. He needs a different type of therapy to get better. His character is not suited for him to be reincarnated as something else. He is never going to get better like this. Never? Try impossible. He isn't going to "'break' and finally try and become a better person for his own sake", he's going to "'break' and give up on everything".

#grgrgr psychological analysis of a yellow triangle #not trying to make him edgy but i just thought of this for a while #he just needs different therapy #bill cipher #gravity falls #theraprism #the book of bill

90 notes · View notes

the-offside-rule · 10 months

Text

Pablo Gavi (FCBarcelona) - Skating Rink

Day 3 of Christmas

"I hate this." Pablo said as he put one of the skates on his foot carefully. "Oh come on. I've had this booked since October. You knew this was coming up." Y/n, his girlfriend said. "What you didn't know was that I'd be unable to skate with the reason of, I don't know? Maybe my knee needing surgery?!" Pablo retorted. "And yet you still decided to come with me. I was going to ask your sister but you insisted." Pablo rolled his eyes and stood up. "Do you need the frame again?" She asked. Pablo scoffed. "There is no way, I am going to be using a frame that is made to help kids skate."

Pablo watched as his girlfriend skated rapidly around the rink as she simply used the kiddies Skating support frame. He mumbled to himself as he gently skated around before Y/n stopped going so quickly and simply skated alongside him. "It's a shame you had surgery. I think you would've been a pro at this if you hadn't had that injury." She smiled. "If I didn't have this injury, I'd be at training as we speak." She rolled her eyes. "No you wouldn't. This is like one of the few times a year you actually get the see me because I don't have college until January now." She grinned. "That just means I have more time to spend with you I the evenings." Pablo said, shrugging his shoulders. "Come on, I'll bring you for a skate. It looks less awkward when you have your girlfriend helping you." She said. "It may even look romantic." Pablo muttered. "Exactly. Now come on." She said and held onto him to bring his for a skate.

Without the frame was very different. He felt less stable and it didn't help that he still had a knee brace on either, but Y/n supported him enough to have little to now pain there. Y/n chuckled as she found her boyfriend holding onto her hands for dear life as she led him on carefully, making sure he wouldn’t fall. “Y/n! You’re going too fast!” Pablo shrieked as Y/n slowly went around a corner. “There is a child going around this rink quicker than us, babe.”

"So?!" He shrieked. "It's okay! Look at me." She let go of him. He panicked, but then decided to hold onto the wall for support. "I can spin and go fast. I am so good at-" Just as she was spinning, she managed to slip. She felt a snap, followed by a sharp pain shooting up through her leg. Pablo laughed at first, before he heard her roaring in pain. "Y/n! Are you alright?"

Cut to an hour later, the pair were sat in the hospital. Doctors had been in and out showing her, her x-rays and offering her pain medication. She also needed ice for the swelling on her ankle. "Gracies." Pablo said as the last doctor left the room. "I can't believe I did this to myself." Y/n muttered. "Well, it can happen to anyone. I'm just happy you don't need surgery." He joked. "Well, it's not my ACL now, is it?" The pair grew quiet as the constant beeping, and people talking surrounded them.

"At least now we both can't use our legs. We have an excuse to stay home and watch movies all Christmas." Pablo mumbled. Y/n chuckled, before it turned into full on laughter. Not too long after, Pablo joined in. As the doctors came in, the laughter died down. She held onto her boyfriends hand and looked at him. "I love you." She sighed. "I love you too." He replied. I think it's safe to say the pair never went ice Skating again after that. They couldn't have a repeat ever again. And I don't think Y/n could ever live down how cocky she was.

#football #football imagines #football blurbs #fcbarcelona #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi imagines #pablo gavi blurb #pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x you #gavi x reader #gavi x you #gavi x yn #gavi imagine #christmas fic #christmas imagine #christmas fanfic #christmas

189 notes · View notes

teejaystumbles · 5 months

Text

Against all odds (part 7)

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6

This is all I've got so far but I figured I'd let you have it and hopefully I'll have more soon :3

Hob works at a news agency. As someone with hundreds of years of experiencing political and societal change he has a keen eye for news-worthy happenings. Often he can predict very well which events are important, which will have historical influence or be the talk of the nation for a long time. Hob edits his colleague’s articles and reports, chooses which ones are worthy of printing and which aren’t, tries to remove or at least mitigate the xenophobia and fearmongering in what he hopes are the last days of the Cold War. People don’t need fear to grow, they need hope. He thinks he’ll stop doing this soon, though. His name - Robert Goulding at the moment - pops up in too many places and he doesn’t like being recognizable for more than a few decades. He takes care to not become chief editor and stay out of the limelight but he thinks he’ll move on soon. Maybe he’ll take a break and live off his stock profits. Find a quiet place for him and his stranger, somewhere in the countryside, with a garden…

Hob shakes himself out of his fantasy and laughs at himself. Wishful thinking will hardly be of any use. He’s been wishing and hoping for more time with his stranger for so many centuries. Now it finally seems like he might get lucky enough to have regular contact, via journal entries, and maybe even visits. That is enough. He shouldn’t be greedy.

With a sigh and a silent curse that he stopped smoking he goes to finish his work so he can get home and write an answer to his friend.

In the evening Hob pours himself a whiskey and sits down at his desk, open journal before him. He looks over to his bed. His stranger had sat here last night, watching him. Hob swallows reflexively and takes another sip of his drink, trying to not let his thoughts go down a slippery, horny slope before he starts writing.

June 15th, 1989

Dear friend,

I am glad you felt you could come and visit me and that you feel safe in my presence. I consider it an honour and I want to assure you that I do not mind in the least if you stop by whenever you feel like it. I trust you. Feel free to come here anytime, no matter if I'm awake or not, or if I’m even here. If my place can be a retreat for you from your everyday worries or workplace (as I assume you are busy doing something somewhere), I would be very happy. Leave your shoes off the sofa, that’s all I ask. ;-)

But seriously, my home is your home. I mean it. I look forward to seeing you again as well.

Reading about your ordeal was horrible. I am so sorry this happened to you and that I didn’t hear anything about it. I would have moved everything between Heaven and Earth to free you, my friend, please believe me. You say the ones responsible have been punished but I cannot stop myself from imagining visiting vengeance upon them for your sake. To imprison you someone, anyone, for such a long period of time, in the conditions that you described, is barbaric and the rage I feel at the mere thought is nearly blinding.

I am deeply sorry for your loss and for all you had to endure. I would give you anything in my power to make you feel safe, dear stranger. If you ever need my help, please call me. I don’t know if you had any means to call for help, you probably didn’t, but please - should you ever be in any trouble or danger or in need of help, I urge you to call on me! I will come and help you the best I can, I will not allow you to be trapped ever again. After all, what are friends for, if not for helping one another?

Your problems with closed spaces and strangers are completely understandable and I would never hold it against you if you never want to meet inside a building again. I hope we’ll be able to find a suitable replacement for the old haunt, at least until you feel more at ease again. These things take time, at least for humans, and although I would not dare to insinuate that you are not more robust than the average human and probably not subject to the same physical and mental limits I’d wager a guess that you will need time to heal, my friend. I sincerely ask you to take that time. You strike me as the type to jump headfirst back into work and duty after getting free and that is not recommended, no matter what or how powerful you are. You were imprisoned for 80 years and subjected to torture, you cannot expect to be the same after that. No one should expect you to be the same, to not be changed by it or in need of healing and time to recuperate.

I am only human but in my long life I have met a few other immortal beings, not all of them human but all of them with very similar needs and wants. I know you’re probably bristling right now because I dare to suggest you might be unfit for whatever it is you do but I hope you believe me when I tell you this only because I care for you - you need a break. Please, stranger, promise me you’ll take care of yourself, if you cannot let others do that for you. I would be happy to help in any way I can. Visit me at your leisure, I promise I will never turn you away, or look down on you for showing weakness. You have seen me at my lowest and I have always trusted you to still respect me after that. Just like that, I would never think any less of you for any of this.

I’ll be happy to help you learn more about humanity, get to know humans again. I am honoured that you have elevated me in your mind to something else but I am as human as they come. So if you like me, you can like other humans as well, right?

I will think of a nice place to meet and let you know as soon as I’ve decided. Remember, in the meantime this place is always open to you. Even including watching me sleep. ;-P

Stay safe,

Your friend Hob

Hob puts down the pen and skims over his lines. Yes, that’s not too forward but inviting enough to let his stranger feel safe and welcome. It’s a bit daring, calling his stranger in need of a break, but it’s the right thing to say and offer.

He nods, downs his whiskey and gets ready for bed.

Part 8

#stay tuned for another dream😘#dreamling #the sandman fanfiction #1989 au #teejay writes

69 notes · View notes

neewtmas · 1 year

Text

A Fateful Bus Ride

A/N: I'M BACK! wohoo! Hopefully at least some people are happy about that whoops

I finally somewhat dug myself out of this slump I've been in (writing and otherwise) and this is my reintroduction piece, if you will. It's not my greatest work (when is something ever lol) but I think it's decent and if anyone has any more requests, I'd be happy to write them. This request is from literal months ago (I'm so sorry it took so long, I hope you're still interested) and it's the only one that didn't get deleted with my whole inbox bc I had started writing it already elsewhere. anyways, enjoy <3

pairing: george karim x fem!reader

wordcount: 2.2k

request: Could you make a George Karim x fem or gn reader where they are on their way to a mission and they have to ride a bus and there aren’t enough seats so she sits on his lap and he realizes he likes her and he confesses to her when they get home and he holds her in his arms (sorry if that is very specific It just came to me and it’s so cute) 💜💕 - by @iloveyousomuchhhhhh (it's not 100% exact but I hope you like it anyways :))

taglist: @maraschinomerry @marinalor @oblivious-idiot @lockwood-lover @givemea-dam-break (if you want to be added or removed, just send me an ask)

masterlist

George stood in the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of tea when he heard a commotion in the basement. The door to the staircase was slightly ajar, and he heard the clattering of metal chains against the concrete floor, followed by some curses and then more clattering. After a short silence, in which he contemplated if he should go downstairs to check, he heard the stairs creak as someone stomped upstairs, chains loudly sounding against the metal of the steps. The door got pushed open, and Y/N entered the kitchen, arms full of chains. She was breathing heavily as she unceremoniously dropped them next to the kitchen table on the floor. "What idiot put them into the closet like that? Of course they would just fall out and break my goddamn toes." George cleared his throat. He knew the culprit all too well, but a look at Y/N's face told him it would be wiser to feign ignorance. So he just shrugged. "Maybe Lockwood was feeling lazy last night", he offered and took a sip of tea to hide the small smile that fought its way onto his lips. From the way she glared at him, he was sure that she knew exactly who was responsible for putting the chains away the evening prior.

She left the kitchen and pulled the door closed rather strongly, as she always did when she was irritated. If it had closed, the bang would have probably shaken the pictures on the wall in Lucy's room in the attic, but it didn't. Instead, Lockwood came in, pushing it open again. He seemed to be in a good mood and full of energy, strutting over to the kettle on the stove, lifting the top to check for the tea inside before turning around to George. His gaze fell to the pile of chains. "Why are there chains on the floor?" He didn't even wait for George to answer, instead, he kept talking as he grabbed a cup from the cupboard and poured some tea in. "Just got the confirmation call, the case tonight is still on. Have you had a chance to gather some information?"

George filled him in on the findings the morning in the library had brought. It wasn't anything too special, it seemed to be a routine case. "Couldn't find any deaths related to the house or the ground it was built on. The lady on the phone talked about how the haunting started sometime after her great-aunt died. She wasn't living in the house though, so my bet is on some sort of haunted heirloom." Lockwood nodded contemplatively. "Sounds interesting enough."

An hour later, the four of them stood by the door, all packed and ready to go. Lockwood had the telephone by his ear, listening to what the person on the other side was saying. His expression turned from neutral to irritated quickly. He listened for a few more seconds, then said a curt goodbye before hanging up. "Can you believe it? Not a single cab is available in all of London. That guy must be mad!"

"What do we do now?", Lucy asked and Lockwood let out a long drawn sigh. "We take the bus. As the gentleman on the phone let me know, that is just as fine of transportation as a cab." He huffed, clearly of a different opinion. But complaining wouldn't get them to their destination any quicker, so they begrudgingly grabbed their equipment and left the house. Y/N had the straps of the duffle bag containing the chains thrown over her shoulder, and she quickly realised that carrying the heavy bag down the street would be much harder than simply carrying it a few metres to a waiting cab. She had a slight stumble in her step, the weight of the chains throwing her off balance.

"Do you need help with that?" George slowed down until she was next to him and extended his hand. "No it's fine", said Y/N through gritted teeth and attempted to keep walking. It was clearly not fine. George quickly caught up to her. "Just let me help you, Y/N." She sighed, setting down the bag and rubbing her shoulder with a grimace. "Fine. But let me at least carry your bag." George couldn't help but smile at her defiance. He remembered very well how long it took him to convince her to let him help her when she was struggling with something.

When she had started working for Lockwood & Co, she had been friendly but closed off - nothing that George hadn't experienced with Lockwood already. And after all, he himself wasn't known for being the most sociable person either. But something about her had caught his interest from the very first time she had walked through the door of 35 Portland Row. He handed her the much lighter duffle bag he had been carrying and picked up the one with the chains.

At the bus stop, they didn't have to wait too long, but that made their situation only marginally better. The bus that came to a halt in front of them was full, much fuller than one would expect at this time of day. But that's just how it was in the summer months, their work started when it was still light out, and that always meant that much more people were around. They hauled their bags and themselves into the vehicle and past the passengers already sitting inside. It was very apparent that the sight of their filled duffle bags, dark clothing and especially the rapiers that gleamed at their sides made the people around them somewhat uncomfortable. There were only three unoccupied seats left, and when Y/N, who entered the bus last, reached them, they were of course claimed by her colleagues.

It wasn't very comfortable, they had too much stuff with them and the bus was already overfull. "Do you wanna sit down?" George asked her and was already about to get up to let her have his seat, but she shook her head and motioned him to sit back down. "It's fine. I can just sit on the bags." They had stacked the bags to not take up any more space. But before Y/N could find a way to make herself comfortable on them, the bus driver started the engine back up and the bus lurched forward. She stumbled back, losing her grip on the pole she had held onto and landed on George's knees. She immediately started apologizing profusely, embarrassed by their sudden closeness. "It's fine, don't worry", George interrupted her, feeling a little overwhelmed by how flustered he felt all of a sudden.

She didn't try to get up and away from him immediately, and George surprised himself with his boldness as he pulled her closer so that she was on his lap completely. "Just stay here. If that's fine with you", he added hastily, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. Maybe that was a little too forward. He half expected her to jump up and get as far away from him as possible, but instead, she sheepishly nodded and didn't move. George turned his head to look out of the window, and he could feel the stares of both Lucy and Lockwood almost burning holes in the back of his head.

It was quite a long drive to the house they would be working at tonight, and George was happy to notice that Y/N seemed to get more comfortable with every passing minute. Where she was sat straight at the beginning, she was now leaning back against his chest. And again, with a boldness he didn't know he had he wrapped his arms, which had been by his side until now, around her waist and pulled her even closer to him. For a few seconds, his heart felt like it was about to jump out of his chest as he held his breath and waited for her reaction. But she just crossed her arms, placing them on top of his.

They spent the rest of the drive like this, and it was only when they reached the final stop, that George reluctantly pulled away his arms from her to let her get up. She didn't look at him, but her cheeks were pink as she grabbed her bag and dragged it off the bus. They were to only ones to get off at this stop, and so they stood alone on the sidewalk as the bus drove off. George prayed that no one would say anything about what had just happened. Luckily, neither Lucy nor Lockwood seemed to be in the mood for any teasing, though he could still feel them looking at him curiously. He chose to ignore them.

The case was just about as uneventful as he had predicted, and the source of the ghost - the great-aunt's necklace - had been found and cleared pretty quickly. Still, when they arrived back at the bus stop, it was dark. It was obvious that Lockwood still wasn't happy with this kind of travelling, but at least they didn't have to wait too long. This time, the bus was empty - no one besides agents was still outside now. The bus driver looked even more unhappy than Lockwood, and it was clear that he too would have preferred for them to have taken a cab.

But George was convinced that neither of them - neither the bus driver nor Lockwood - was quite as unhappy as he felt when he realised there was absolutely no reason for him and Y/N to repeat the seating arrangement from before. With them being the only four passengers, there were plenty of free seats available. But what somewhat lessened his disappointment, was the fact that Y/N chose the free seat next to him to sit.

Back home in Portland Row, George put on a kettle on the stove. Lockwood and Lucy had excused themselves to bed even though they came back earlier than usual from their case. Y/N on the other hand stayed with him in the kitchen while they waited for the water to boil. She was telling him about something that happened last time she had gone grocery shopping, but while he usually had no problems paying full attention to whatever she was saying, tonight it was different. He couldn't stop thinking about the bus ride. He had known before that he liked her, and that it was very different from how he liked Lockwood and Lucy - but it hadn't been clear to him just how much he liked her. And the way she had reacted to him - it gave him hope that maybe she felt something similar. He filled two cups with the water from the kettle and added the teabags. "Do you wanna sit in the library for a while?", he asked.

Y/N followed him to the library, where he sat down on the couch. She quickly contemplated if she should sit down next to him or if she should opt for the chair next to the couch. After what had happened on the bus, she was entirely unsure about how to act towards George. He smiled at her and she suddenly felt very nervous. Nonetheless, she decided to sit down on the couch, even though that meant they were now sitting very close next to each other. They were silent for a while, both sipping on their tea. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, it never was with them, but something was different than before.

Y/N finished her tea first and put the empty cup back onto the table. She was suddenly feeling very tired, but she liked the way she was sitting so close to George on the couch, and she didn't want this moment it end, even if she didn't exactly know what was between them right now. So instead, she leaned closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder.

George could feel his heartbeat quicken as Y/N leaned against him, and he had to force himself to finish his tea without choking on it. He quickly leaned forward to put his cup on the table as well, but the sudden movement had Y/N sit up straight again. "No no!", he said hastily, cursing himself silently for being so awkward in this moment. "Don't go away. That was nice." He almost bit his tongue. Was that too forward? But Y/N smiled shyly, in a way she had never smiled at him before. She resumed her position, and with his heart beating out of his chest, he slowly put his arm around her shoulder. A part of him was scared that this was too much, but instead of pulling away, she just cuddled closer to him and closed her eyes. "You are right, this is nice", she said quietly smiled as George leaned forward and pressed a kiss on her forehead.

thanks for reading, feedback is appreciated :)

request something

#george karim #george karim x reader #george x reader #lockwood and co #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood & co #lockwood & co x reader

206 notes · View notes

tj-dragonblade · 7 months

Text

[FLUFFBRUARY FIC] A Sweet Romance Beginning In a Queue

Rated: T Word Count: 4551 Tags: Fluffbruary, Fluffbruary 2024, fluff, human AU, rain, writer!Dream, professor!Hob, song-based meet-cute, clumsy metaphors

Notes: This is springboarding entirely from Bus Stop by The Hollies; shoutout to @valeriianz for suggesting this song would make a great Dreamling fic many many months ago. I thought Fluffbruary Day 3 would be a good opportunity to bang it out real quick but uh. It didn't want to flow, so I've just been rolling additional days into it all month. Also went a wee bit off-script from the song but. I'm pleased enough with what it's turned out to be. Prompts listed at the end.

Summary: Bus stop, wet day, he's there, I say, 'Please share my umbrella'

On AO3

It's the first day of the new term and the sky is overcast, threatening rain as Hob steps off the bus at his connecting stop. He's got his umbrella and his overcoat and his bag is water-resistant; his stop on the other end is very near the college and he's feeling well-prepared should the weather follow through on its threat.

Which of course it does, not half a minute later, and Hob deploys his umbrella with a sigh. There are a handful of other people waiting at the stop who do the same.

And one who does not.

He's pale and pretty, and tall, and dark—dark trousers, dark peacoat, dark hair, which is well on its way to getting thoroughly soaked as the skies open up in earnest. He appears to be lacking an umbrella entirely. Hob, who these days makes conscious effort to be a Good Samaritan whenever he can, and who also maybe thinks that attractively-pale men dressed in black who forget their umbrellas are worth at least a 'hello', moves quickly.

"Share my umbrella? Please." He's holding it over the guy as he speaks, but they'll have to squish up a bit to get maximum benefit for either of them.

"…Thank you," the guy says, shuffling closer; their shoulders touch. He is stiff, awkward, and yeah okay Hob can understand; courtesy in rainy weather or not, they're still complete strangers.

"Hell of a day to forget your umbrella, yeah?" Hob rolls his shoulders and shifts, putting himself more or less back-to-back with the guy so they fit better.

"Quite," comes the answer. His voice is low and rumbly, pleasantly dark without being bass-deep; it's oddly appealing.

Hob shrugs. "We've all been there. And hey, I'm glad to share."

"Again. Thank you." There's a touch more warmth this time, and Hob smiles to himself.

They pass a moment in silence, save for the drumming of rain against the umbrella and the splashing of cars in the street, and then the bus is pulling up to the stop. The guy steps toward it, first in line, and Hob follows with the umbrella, then lets the other three people board ahead of him.

Which means, once he's boarded and tapped in, the only open seat is serendipitously next to his slightly-soggy goth stranger. Who makes eye contact and holds it as Hob approaches, scoots just that little bit closer to the window to make clear he doesn't mind Hob taking the seat beside him, and Hob is quietly thrilled at the subtle welcome.

"Are you a conversationalist, or a ride-in-silence enthusiast?" he asks, as the bus lurches into motion.

"Ordinarily, the latter," the guy admits, glancing briefly at Hob. "But, as I stormed out with neither book nor earbuds, and I find myself with a chivalrous seat partner, perhaps I could be persuaded to the former just this once."

"Very kind, thank you," Hob says, with a smile. "'Stormed out' doesn't sound promising; feel like unburdening to a friendly ear? I'd be happy to listen, if so. Or find something else entirely to talk about if not."

His stranger turns to the window, watching the rivulets of rain trailing over the glass; there is a brief lull before he speaks. "I find myself creatively blocked, and my sister's attempts to be helpful. Were not." He sighs. "I left the house to clear my head, before saying anything truly unkind."

"Smart," Hob agrees. He could listen to this guy talk all day, his rumbly words and his dark-velvety voice.

"'Smart' would have been making certain to grab more than just my phone and wallet." There's a pretty little scowl accompanying the words, that rosy mouth plumped out in the faintest pout visible in his reflection in the window, and Hob is smitten.

"That may be, but then I'd hardly have had reason to say hello, and we'd both be sitting here reading our books politely ignoring one another. Silver lining?"

"Perhaps," the guy says, but it sounds agreeable enough. Hob likes to think he's a decent judge of unspoken communication and that he could tell if he was being a bother. Currently his stranger is glancing over Hob's bag and his attire with a curious and observant eye, posture reserved but not closed off, and Hob figures he's doing alright.

"Where are you headed, then—work?" the guy asks.

"Yeah, I teach at the college, medieval history, now and then a class in medieval lit too."

The guy's attention goes from merely polite to genuinely interested. "Oh?"

"Yep!" Hob's heart rate bumps up a notch at the light in those (gorgeous) blue eyes; the sudden intensity of this stranger's focus is heady.

He's turned in his seat, angled to somewhat face Hob, gaze bright, expression open. "I imagine that is a difficult sell to many students."

"Oh my friend, you have no idea!" Delighted with his good fortune, Hob launches into tales of his most recalcitrant classes and the victories he's won in inciting and maintaining student interest. He's good at talking, and enjoys doing it, and this pretty stranger is paying genuine attention to him, and so Hob prattles on enthusiastically as the bus trundles steadily through the rain.

~ "This is me," Hob says, as the bus pulls up to the college stop. "It was delightful chatting with you, and I hope your day improves from here!"

"It already has, thank you."

The tiny smile that the stranger offers in parting buoys Hob's spirits all the way to his office.

~ Tuesday is miserably wet again and Hob checks for his stranger at the bus stop, hopeful (yes alright, perhaps he's got a bit of a crush), but there's no sign of him. It's earlier than it was yesterday though, on account of his 8 a.m. lecture this morning, so there's no reason to think he'd be there again. Plus he'd talked about 'storming out' and 'clearing his head'; it wasn't like this stop was a daily transfer point the way it was for Hob.

Chances were good they'd never cross paths again.

~ Wednesday it's less a downpour and more a light shower, but it's still enough that an umbrella is practical.

And Hob is absolutely delighted as he steps off his first bus to see that Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Emo is there again, and again without an umbrella, hunched ineffectually into the collar of his coat and resembling nothing so much as a disgruntled wet cat. He perks up distinctly as Hob approaches with his umbrella angled forward in offering.

"You gallantly come to my rescue yet again." He tilts his head and glances up through lush black lashes, just this side of coy. "I thank you, sincerely, Mr…?"

"Hob, I'm Hob. Just Hob. You can call me Hob." Not his most suave, certainly, but this blatantly-flirtatious greeting atop his own delight has somewhat stolen his functioning brain cells.

"Hob," the guy repeats, unhurried, like he's savoring the taste of the name in his mouth, and smiles just a little bit. "You may call me Dream."

"Pleased to run into you again, Dream." Hob dimples brightly, delighted with the turn his day has taken, delighted that they've made proper introductions. "How was the head-clearing, the other day?"

"Effective." The guy—Dream—crowds close under the umbrella (Hob's largest, which he had pulled out yesterday just in case) and smooths the clinging water from his hair with one hand. His (damp) shoulder is firmly pressed against Hob's and his profile is absolutely beautiful, this close. Hob tries not to stare.

"Got your creativity flowing again, did it?"

"I managed to finish a very troublesome chapter Monday evening, yes."

Hob perks up at this new tidbit of information. "You're a writer, then?"

He gives a short nod, staring out into the rain, then glances sideways at Hob. "I have you to thank for my progress, also."

"Me?"

"The stories you shared…you inspired a direction for the scene that was plaguing me. I came out yesterday, with intent to thank you, but you were not here…?"

His voice lilts up just a touch on the end of his sentence, curiosity expressed without actually voicing the question, and Hob just smiles. "Yeah, Tuesday's my early-morning class. Sorry I missed you."

"No matter. I have now left the house three days in a row and my sister is distressingly pleased about it. She says it is good for my mental health."

"And what do you think?"

He sighs, heavily. "She is not incorrect." He glances sideways at Hob again, eyes narrowed prettily. "But I am not going to admit it to her."

Hob laughs; he can't help it. "You are so completely valid for that," he says, and when Dream smiles in return his spirits soar.

~ "Remembered your umbrella this time, I see!" Hob ignores the little pang of disappointment; just because he doesn't need to share his umbrella with Dream this time doesn't mean they can't still have a conversation.

"My sister reminded me, yes," Dream answers, and then to Hob's great surprise he lowers and closes the umbrella. "But I would prefer to share yours, if you're amenable." His eyes flick up, just a hint of hopeful uncertainty showing there.

"Of course." Hob moves close, brings his umbrella over Dream's head, heart thudding in his chest with delight. He hopes the great spreading grin on his face doesn't put Dream off; he can't quite get it under control.

If Dream notices, he gives no indication. "This routine is working well for me," he says, and it takes Hob a second to cotton on to what he means.

"What, catching the bus in the rain every morning?"

"Yes," Dream says serenely. "The company is. Refreshing." The corners of his mouth tilt up the smallest bit.

"Nicest thing anyone's ever said to me," Hob says, making a valiant effort to sound normal while something warm blooms in the vicinity of his heart. He shifts the umbrella, making sure they're both still sheltered.

"Writing flows more easily when I return home after our morning conversations," Dream says, as if this is something they've been doing for weeks instead of just days. "I shall have to credit you in my author's notes."

Hob laughs, absolutely delighted. "That is extremely flattering, my friend, but wholly unnecessary. But if I'm at all helpful? I'm glad."

One day maybe he'll ask if he can see Dream's writing, when they've been acquainted for more than a week; one day further, perhaps, he'll ask him on a date. It certainly seems he'd be amenable, but Hob knows himself and his tendency to rush in full-tilt and tells himself there's no harm in just. Seeing what happens, for a little while.

~ "Share my umbrella?"

Dream looks askance at him, hair fluttering prettily across his forehead in the breeze. "It is not raining, Hob."

"Well no, but. Bit windy, isn't it? Wouldn't want you to suffer any windburn. Umbrella makes a decent wind-break." He has oh-so-smoothly said 'wind' three times in ten seconds, and it is the flimsiest of excuses to begin with, but Dream only smiles as if he's said something profoundly wise.

"Indeed. Truly, I am fortunate to receive your continued chivalry." He crowds in close to Hob, who angles the umbrella behind them to keep the wind off, and smiles.

~ The other patrons at the bus stop are giving Hob weird looks as he opens his umbrella, but there's only one person here whose opinion matters.

Dream tilts one eyebrow up, amused. "The sun is shining today, Hob Gadling. Yet still you offer your umbrella?"

"It's tradition, at this point. And besides—got a very fair complexion, haven't you? Bit of shade will do you good."

"…As you say." His smile is radiant as the sunshine, and Hob's heart thumps happily. "Thank you."

~ It's been about a month since that first meeting when Hob leaves campus for the afternoon and finds Dream waiting at the college bus stop. The morning's rain has cleared throughout the day but now rises again as a light drizzly mist; Dream is huddled into the meager shelter offered over the bench while pulling out his umbrella. Hob hurries over with his own already deployed, playing into their established pattern.

"Fancy meeting you here?" he greets, smiling. He's delighted to run into Dream outside their developed routine, and the way that Dream kind of blooms to see him is very satisfying.

"Hob. At last," Dream smiles, ducking under Hob's broad umbrella.

"Been waiting long?"

"…Somewhat. You see. I have. A question, I would like to ask you. An important one." The gravity in his tone is clear, and Hob might be worried if it wasn't so plainly obvious that Dream was nervous. "But I do not know your schedule, beyond your morning commute, and so…"

"Have you just been hanging around half the day waiting for me to show up?" Hob is equal parts appalled and delighted.

Dream meets his eyes briefly, glance flicking away again too quickly to interpret as anything other than confirmation. "Perhaps."

Hob laughs, aware he should possibly be alarmed by what any normal person would read as stalking behavior but utterly charmed by it instead. "Your patience has its reward, then. What was it you wanted to ask me?"

"I…ah." Dream colors prettily, the faintest pink flush across his cheeks as he stumbles over actually speaking his question, and Hob is rapidly escalating from 'charmed' to 'enamoured'. "I am not. Good, at—at—"

"Obviously it was important enough to identify my most likely location and wait hours for me to show up, right?" Hob cuts in gently. "Go ahead. I promise I won't judge you." He can hear the fondness seeping into his own voice, and apparently so can Dream. He lifts wide eyes to Hob, lips pressed together resolutely, and heaves a fortifying breath out through his nose.

"I wish to ask. Would you like to have dinner sometime. Or. Or coffee, perhaps."

The bus pulls up at that exact moment, disgorging a single passenger; Hob barely hesitates before waving the driver on.

"That was our bus?" Dream states, lilting up in such a way that it's clear he means Why did we not board, why are we still standing here?

"Well, yes," Hob agrees, very aware of the size of the dopey grin on his face. "But you see, a very dear friend of mine has just asked if I might like a bite to eat with him, and I know the most amazing little spot right around the corner."

"That. That is 'yes', then? Now?" Dream seems delightedly flummoxed, and it ratchets Hob straight up to 'besotted'. How could Dream think he'd ever say anything else? Although it occurs to him belatedly Dream might have other obligations for the evening.

"Well 'now' is certainly 'sometime', yes? If you're free, that is. If you've something else you have to do—"

"No. Nothing else," Dream cuts him off, and the warm smile spreading over his face makes Hob's heart skip a beat. "There is nowhere I should like to be more, just now."

Of course not, not when he'd dedicated the bulk of his day to waiting for Hob just to ask him out. "Wonderful. Shall we?" He offers his arm, angling the umbrella to keep the misty sprinkle off them still.

Dream tucks a hand into his elbow and falls into step beside him.

~ "Wanna try mine?" Hob offers, plucking a crispy slab of cheese from his plate with a bit of everything on it and holding it out, other hand cupped underneath. They are talking over plates of halloumi fries; Hob had gone for his favorite—smothered in pomegranate molasses and za'atar yoghurt with pomegranate arils and fresh mint garnish—and Dream had taken his drizzled in honey and sprinkled with sesame seeds.

"Thank you, I am fine," Dream says, rote politeness in his voice but curiosity in his eyes, and Hob arches a brow.

"Worried you'll have to spend a month stuck with me for each pomegranate seed?"

"That would hardly dissuade me," Dream replies, with a sweet little smile that hits Hob straight in the gut. "Very well, since you offer so generously." He leans forward, grasps Hob's wrist instead of the proffered food, and bites through the warm-crusted cheese while Hob's still holding it, lips brushing Hob's fingers as he pulls back.

He chews, making a contemplative face, and gently plucks the rest of it from Hob's hand while Hob is still scrambling to reboot his poor blue-screening brain and not make a fool of himself.

"Do you know," Hob blurts, grasping for anything, "whatever Persephone might have eaten in the underworld, it would've bound her there the same? It wasn't just because it was a pomegranate?"

"I did know that, yes," Dream replies, and Hob feels the flush of having said something fairly stupid rising into his face. "The pomegranate is a tidy choice for enumerating the months she stays below, I think, with the countable seeds." He plucks one of the ruby-red arils from the cheese that Hob had given him between two delicate fingertips and places it in his mouth, eyes on Hob in a way that makes him lose his brain again.

"Yes that's. Good point," Hob tries, and thankfully Dream pops the rest of the halloumi fry into his mouth without any fanfare or continued eye contact.

"I can see why you like this," Dream says, once his mouth is empty. "It is a wonderful blend of flavors. But the honey-sesame remains my favorite." He takes a bite from his own plate, and Hob tries not to fixate on the casual way he licks the honey off his rose-petal lips.

"I wrote an alternate version of Persephone's story, once," Dream says then, eyes not exactly meeting Hob's or even on his face, darting between his shoulder and his sternum and dropping back to his plate. "I made it her choice; they met and fell in love long before the abduction, which was closer to an elopement. She ate the pomegranate seeds deliberately so as not to be taken away from the partner she had chosen. In my version, it was the pomegranate specifically that would bind her."

"That sounds brilliant," Hob says, feeling a little starry-eyed; Dream has never really talked specifics about his writing before. "I'd love to read it sometime."

"It. Was many many years ago, before I ever considered publication," Dream admits, barely glancing up at Hob, still a little skittish. "I thought it a unique idea at the time, but there are dozens of Persephone remixes to be had and I have never felt it warranted the effort of reworking it from my current skill level or attempting to publish."

"Well for what it's worth, your version is the remix I'd be most interested in reading," Hob says, utterly sincere, smiling from ear to ear. "If you ever wanted to share, that is." He bites into another halloumi fry and speaks around it. "I would never pressure you to let me read your stuff if you don't want to. But I'm always interested."

"…Thank you." Dream covers his awkwardness with another dainty bite from his own plate, a hint of pink dusting across his cheekbones. When his mouth is empty again, he offers, "Mostly I have written. Romance."

"Oh?"

"Not under my own name. But yes."

"See it's fascinating that pseudonyms are so prevalent through the ages, and for so many reasons," Hob starts, and as the conversation turns in this new direction Hob does not miss how Dream relaxes to have the focus shifted from the vulnerable personal glimpse of himself he'd offered.

And Hob maybe falls a little bit deeper.

~ It's still lightly raining three hours later; they've talked about so many things, they've had dessert and then had coffee since neither of them were ready to leave yet. It's dark by the time they finally head back to the bus stop; Dream presses up against Hob's side beneath the umbrella and Hob thrills at the warmth, the closeness, the graceful slide of Dream's hand into his and the way he doesn't let go until the bus shows up.

~ It's raining again the first time Hob kisses Dream, pulling him close beneath the umbrella outside the theater, one finger tipped beneath Dream's chin; the kiss is tentative, but Dream's mouth is warm and the way he lists gently forward has Hob coming back again, soft and sweet and smiling helplessly.

~ Three straight days of rain are clearing on the afternoon that Dream takes Hob to the bookstore and leads him to the romance section, points him to a shelf in the 'M's where there are a dozen or so titles by Morpheus, mononymous. Hob doesn't make the connection for a second, and then he does.

"Is this you?" he asks, reaching for one of the hardbacks, and sure enough there's Dream's photo inside the dust jacket, solemn and styled and somehow less authentic than the Dream standing nervously next to him.

"Yes," Dream confirms, and soft warmth floods Hob's chest. Dream has been very reserved about his writing—"It is one thing to publish for strangers, but I find it…much more difficult to share, when it is someone whose opinon matters to me personally," he'd said once, and being trusted, opened up to like this—Hob is not oblivious to the privilege of it.

"You've certainly written a lot," he says, warmth and fondness curling in his chest. "And you're okay with me reading any of these?"

"Yes; however—" he reaches into the messenger bag slung over his hip, withdraws a large clear envelope with what looks like a manuscript inside. "If you wish to read my writing, I would have you begin with this." He hands it to Hob.

Hades and Persephone: The Morpheus Remix the paper proclaims through the plastic, and Hob looks up at Dream, delighted. "Is this—?"

"It needs a proper title." Dream shrugs, hunches into his coat a little bit. "I would like—perhaps you might help me come up with one, as it was you who inspired me to revisit and update it."

Hob cannot for the life of him stop the broad smile that overtakes his face, is not even trying. "I would be honored."

~ It is raining buckets the night that Dream comes home with Hob, and even the umbrella is not enough to prevent their getting a bit wet. But that's alright, Hob thinks, with Dream's eager mouth warm and hungry on his as they move in the direction of his bedroom, it's not like their clothes were staying on anyway.

He lays Dream gently in his bed, covers him with his own body, makes love to him with slow and ardent urgency while the rain lashes against his window. Later, after, when the winds have calmed and thunder rumbles soothingly in the distance, he holds Dream curled against him, asleep, and he thinks. He thinks about umbrellas, and shielding, and guardedness, and how Dream has slowly gifted so many of his vulnerabilities to Hob; he thinks about the duality of potential in that realization, the power it gives him to either harm or protect, and vows to himself that he will always be Dream's metaphorical umbrella when it's within his capabilities.

~ It's sprinkling just a little when Hob realizes that he's going to marry Dream.

It's early Autumn and they're at the park; Dream is under his own umbrella (look, sometimes sharing just isn't practical, as much as Hob still loves faithfully carrying on their schtick), scattering peas and grapes for the ducks and Hob is hanging back, watching him with an aching fondness in his heart.

Dream is beautiful, and thoughtful, and engaging. He is guarded and private, but so warm and emotional and giving once he has let you in. He is smart, and witty, with the driest sense of humor and the most endearingly terrible laugh and Hob has fallen desperately in love with him along the way.

He watches as a particularly bold duck comes close and snaps up the pea that had fallen directly at the toe of Dream's boot; watches the soft delight that steals over Dream's face, and he knows.

~ It is the following Spring before he asks. They are at the bus stop where they first met and it's a bright sunny day; Hob's got the umbrella up and they're shoulder-to-shoulder beneath it. Dream is animated, excited, talking about his editor's latest feedback on his Persephone remix (The Seeds of Fate, they had decided to call it), and Hob is listening, very much interested but so so nervous. The little velvet box on his pocket is weighty, not physically of course but he can't stop touching it, hoping Dream will say yes, believing Dream will say yes.

At last, Dream turns to him, a little wrinkle of concern between his brows. "You feel…distracted; is everything alright?"

Hob smiles at him, entirely and wholeheartedly in love. He hooks the hand holding the umbrella with Dream's so their fingers are tangled together around it; he leans his forehead against Dream's, closes his eyes. "I have a question, I'd like to ask you. An important one." It's a deliberate echo of how Dream had asked him out more than a year ago; Hob can picture the way Dream smiles to recognize it, can feel one eyebrow lifting against his own.

He takes a deep breath, pulls the little box from his pocket and clicks the lid open. "Will you marry me?"

It's a quiet request, pitched low so the other couple people at the bus stop don't overhear, so that if Dream does wish to say no, he won't be under the public pressure of strangers to say yes for appearances' sake. Not that Hob expects him to say no.

He hopes he doesn't say no.

Dream pulls back and Hob opens his eyes, meeting the surprise and delight and disbelief in Dream's. Dream looks down at the ring in the open box in Hob's hand, touches a fingertip to the velvet-covered lid delicately, looks back up at Hob with joy blossoming in his face.

"Do you mean it? Truly?"

Hob swallows down the nervous lump in his throat, squeezes gently where his hand is tangled with Dream's around the handle of the umbrella. "More than anything," he murmurs, entranced by the gathering shine of happy tears in Dream's eyes. "Marry me. Please."

Dream makes a joyful little noise, wrenches his hand free and throws both arms around Hob's neck, kissing him soundly. Hob manages to snap the ring box closed and swing the umbrella low, wraps both arms around Dream's waist and kisses him back.

"Yes," Dream breathes wetly when they part a moment later. "Yes, of course yes, a thousand times, yes."

~ They marry in the park in August, the clouds high and the breeze warm. Hob puts up the umbrella when they reach the crux of the ceremony; he holds its history over them while they say their vows, while they slip rings on one another's fingers, and then they seal their marriage with a tender heartfelt kiss beneath its promise of care and protection.

= Started: 2/3/24 Drafted: 2/24/24 Posted: 2/25/24

Fluffbruary 2024 Prompts Day 3: umbrella seashore mist Day 4: camera lush beau Day 5: rescue inertia lullaby Day 6: tie embarrassment* dessert Day 7: potatoes blue glass Day 8: shower blessed layer Day 9: urgency kneel rural Day 10: flush angel owl Day 11: reflection water apology Day 12: graceful volcano blanket Day 18: suave cologne gradual* Day 19: teacakes flood feature Day 20: smooth glitters queen Day 23: rhythm chalk humor Day 24: spring fuzzy silky

*The word did not get used but the concept is very much in there

✨✨✨ Sequel: Love Rain Down On Me ✨✨✨

#TJs Fics #Fluffbruary 2024 #TJs Fluffbruary #Dreamling #Sandman #wip: umbrella boys

125 notes · View notes

jemmo · 21 days

Text

ok i was too exhausted to talk about i hear the sunspot last week so now i have 2 weeks worth of ranting saved up and i can feel the tidal wave coming.

edit: i had to add a read more bc this turned into the messiest, most tangent-filled rant. tl;dr idk i just like it

and first off i wanna semi-respond to some discussion ive seen around the show with regards to pacing, that its slow, its frustrating etc. and the extent of my response is... yeah. well, not just yeah. its not that i agree or disagree, its more that i dont have a way to respond that is unbiased or removed from my personal opinion bc i love the show a lot. if i totally detached and looked at it, yeah, maybe i'd think that way. god knows ive said the same thing for many, many other shows and funnily enough its usually one of my least favourite things. at least, i thought it was, but now that i think about it...

ok this is gonna be a tangent but ive now been watching bl and been in the bl space for over 3 years (wow, how did that happen?) and i think its really interesting to think about, and i'd love to hear from others as well, how my taste in bl has changed. what i like, what i dont like, what i value in a show and how much i am willing to invest in or engage with a show. before i got to bl, i was very much looking for bl content. even when i was younger, i was always trying to find queer content and it was usually european, and then in my anime phase i watched all the bl anime, and that led me to cherry magic blah blah you dont need to know the rest. but at that point i was very much hungry to just see queerness on screen. and i mean explicit queerness, not necessary sexual, just like dating and kissing and explicit same sex relationships. and i think in that haze and the height of hyperfixation i watched many shows that i probably wouldnt have the patience to now. i watch a lot less bl now, maybe bc im more busy with work, maybe bc bl is actually getting worse idk, or maybe i just dont have the effort the engage with something when i dont like it, or it just doesnt interest me. and speaking of what i do and don't like, i feel like this lack of patience has also come with this gradual change in what i want for the show. i know bl now, i know its out there, i know more and more is being made every year, im not in short supply of explicit queerness anymore. so now i can be more picky. if i find myself getting bored watching a show, i just wont watch it. and also bc ive been watching bl for years now, i feel like i am developing what my taste in bl is, and thats not exactly something i can describe, for me its more a i know it when i see it kinda thing. thats why i try a lot of shows out but am happy to drop them after a couple of eps when i know i dont vibe with them.

and with shows i dont drop, they usually fall into 2 categories; im actually enjoying it or im just waiting around to see where this goes. and to call myself out, bc of all these things i think it means that im... well, not less critical, but less able to be unbiased when watching a show i do like, bc hey this is the one show out of 10 going on this month that im obsessed with, of course im not gonna be critical of it. and thats not to say i should be critical of i hear the sunspot, more that im not bc my bias and taste just makes me like it. all the things people think are its flaws that i see with other shows, i just dont see, or dont care about, bc i just like it. and thats me with the pacing. in any other show i would probably be bored and impatient. but for me, bc of so many other things, bc of what theyve done with characters in the mean time, bc i just like these characters a lot, the way they interact, the way they think, the whole vibe of the show and what it says, im just not bothered by it. its not an issue to me. and thats my tangent on personal taste and how youre allowed to just not think that a show has flaws when you like it even if other people think its flawed and youre equally critical of other things but anyway.

back to i hear the sunspot. i dont know why i love this slowburn and lack of communication but i just do. maybe its bc the show doesnt feel rushed. ive been frustrated so many other times when shows wait until the final ep for the couple to get together, which im guessing this show is doing, but thats usually bc nothing else about the show is engaging me so it feels like im being left waiting. i dont feel like im left waiting here. here, i feel like everyone as a character is being valued and whatever time i spend with any of them, i love it. i dont find myself waiting until kohei and taichi get a scene together like i have with other shows bc everything else, everything with them individually, everything with maya, with taichi's friends, idk what else to say i just love it all. and that shows bc i cried just as hard at the scene with maya as i did at the scene with kohei and taichi.

and now for just some fave bits, starting with maya. i just love her. people were so ready to be annoyed with her and pick her apart, but i cant scream enough about how amazing it is that the show introduced a female antagonist and managed to, in my eyes anyway, turn her into someone i liked and felt for and just enjoyed watching. finally, a female antagonist that wasnt just disposable after she served her purpose. and whats better is that what we come to learn about her recontextualises her actions when she was first introduced. i just know upon a rewatch that when i first see her acting out and being mean to taichi, i might still be mad at her, but ill also see a girl that is struggling to make it look like she is fine, someone who is trying her hardest to make it appear that she doesnt try at all, that shes fine, shes no burden to anyone, that this huge thing that is scary and difficult to deal with, shes fine with, bc shes just that good, no biggie. that need to make it all seem casual, to not show weakness, is even exactly why she got mad at taichi in the first place, bc she thought he wasnt trying, he was just doing things casually and he was ok with letting people know he wasnt perfect. he didnt take perfect notes and that was ok, he was still trying his hardest. thats like the exact opposite of maya's mindset to be perfect but make it look like shes not trying. and i think that clash was a great thing to add to the show, and so rewarding when taichi finally hit the nail on the head and told her she didnt have to try so hard, that its ok to let, or even make, other people make the effort. its not sympathy or pity, its kindness.

and now for taichi and kohei. there was just so many things that i loved, the scene of kohei cutting onions with his mom, the whole montage in the classroom going through the highlights of taichi taking notes for kohei, the whole vibe at the end where it was never explicitly said but you just knew it was taichi's last day. and i adore the way that kohei didn't ask questions when taichi told him about dropping out, he just had that faith in taichi, there was nothing to question, he believed that whyever it was, whatever it was for, taichi had thought about it and made the decision and that was enough. instead he just talks about taichi, how hes amazing, making him feel good about himself so he can feel both confident in his decision and whatever he does next. and as for taichi, i know we all wanna know why he cant just say he likes kohei and get it over with, but i dont think thats the right sentiment to bring to the show, or at least not the one i have. whatever it is, i just dont mind, bc to me taichi is a person and if he cant bring himself to say it now or doesnt want to or doesnt think its the right time, thats fine. thats the kind of energy gives me anyway, that i shouldnt be pressing these characters for a reason. its similar to how the show doesnt feel rushed, its like im fine if taichi doesnt say it bc theres no deadline, you say your feelings when youre ready and want to and thats just up to him and im not here to rush him, neither is the show. it just gives him the space to figure things out and make his mind up and decide when the time is right, when he isnt on rocky ground with yknow new people being mean to him and making him doubt himself or questioning what he wants to do with his life and taking on something new - like if taichi is overwhelemed by all of that, its fine. and i can hear the argument oh show us that and like yeah, as i said for any other show id say that too but here i dont care. taichi not saying his feelings can be for any reason you want to come up with, the show doesnt need to give us one, nor do we need one to accept he hasnt done it, but also if you want a reason, theres more than enough to draw from the show to come to your own conclusions. that kinda sounds like the most pretencious defence of a show thatsputting off a confession for the final ep but hey its what i think and i vibe with that thinking so there.

honestly, what i feel about this show is that it didn't need to be a bl for me to watch it, bc i adore everything about it that id watch it even if it was just bromance or even pure friendship, but the fact it is that bc its a bl, because it has that romance, it makes it better. and maybe thats why im not bothered by the pacing, bc im not waiting for the bl moments, im just enjoying the show for what it is, for the story its telling, for the characters its created and the message its conveying. and god if i think about it ending next week i will bust a cry so for now, we live in denial.

#this is so messy im so sorry #whats that taylor swift lyric thats just like 'it turned into something bigger' bc yeah thats this post #i just been on tumblr for so long my bl thoughts are so messy in my exhausted brain and i just wanted to talk really #but anyway let me know what you think about the show or any of this and what i think i wanna hear it all #i hear the sunspot #hidamari ga kikoeru

24 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months

Note

WIBTA if I confronted my BF about not ordering from my store?

My bf (nb they) and I (m he) have been together 3 years, and have lived together half of that. I moved across states to be with them, and I am very happy being here with them.

Since moving here, I've worked at a fast food restaurant about a mile away from our house. It used to be one of my boyfriend's favorite places to eat, and they still order there sometimes. However, recently, the past year or so, they've been ordering from the location about three miles further away.

They DO still sometimes order from my location, but it is very rare. Usually when they have to pick me up from work. But outside of that, they order exclusively from locations that are further away and even more inconvenient to get to.

I think there's one main reason for this. Before I moved and began working here, they had a bad experience at my location, and this bad experience led to them (drunkenly, stupidly) leaving a couple of bad reviews. (Which was stupid of them.)

About six months into me working here, I sprained my knee, and my boyfriend met my boss and I at the urgent care. Turns out, my boss remembers those bad reviews, and she called them out on it! I think she's a total bitch, mostly for reasons unrelated to this, but her animosity towards my boyfriend explained a lot of her animosity towards me in the following months.

Anyway, my boyfriend was thoroughly embarrassed. I can't really say I blame them. But I was embarrassed too! Almost every time my boss acted like I was scum of the earth (when it couldn't be explained away by my own mistakes, which was often, because I'm actually really good at my job!) I found myself wondering if it was because of my boyfriend.

But I had to move past it, because this is my JOB. and I LOVE this job. I love the work I do, no matter what people think of it. I love everyone I work with, aside from my boss. I love learning new skills. I love the thrill of the lunch rush, and the thrill of working on a giant catering order and thinking "There's no way I'll ever finish this" until, all of a sudden, it's finished. I did office work before this, and this is so much more satisfying to me.

Anyway. All that to say, I moved past it. But my boyfriend, however, is still stuck in that stupid stage of embarrassment. No one who worked there while they made a fool of themself is still working there. No one knows or notices or cares, except for them. And I've told them this. And I'd really PREFER for them to order from my store, because it makes me feel valued and important to someone close to me. (Plus, any tip they leave is money directly back into our finances, which is good, IMO.)

I want to talk to them about it, but I know they'll just say how the embarrassment is too much for them. (Also, somewhat related, they've been trying to get me to apply for a new job further away, which is a pain because I can't drive and walking just a mile from the shop is too much for me, because I'm out of shape.)

I think they really don't want me to be here, but I WANT to be here. I think they don't like the work I do, but I LIKE the work I do. I would really appreciate it if they supported me by, at the very least, ordering from my store.

Would I be the asshole if I confronted them about this?

(Last couple details: my boyfriend always orders the club sub, which comes with bacon. They say our bacon is mid. I think they're full of shit, I've eaten so much of our bacon and think it is literally the best. I don't really see how another store could have better bacon. Also, when I first made sandwiches for them, I tended to show my favor by giving them extra meat and stuff. They said it messed with the "ratio" so I stopped doing that. Could that be why they don't order from me anymore? I don't see how that could be, since I took their feedback to heart and stopped doing it. Idk.)

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

64 notes · View notes

kasagia · 2 years

Text

Our little game

~Part 2~ ~Part 3~ ~Part 4~ ~Part 5~

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x witch! reader Summary: You and Klaus have been playing this game between yourselves since your first meeting. One day, you two would fight with each other like dogs, and the next day, you would flirt and act like people completely mad with love. But whatever was between you two, you would never lose this game and admit that you fell for him. He would only use you for your power, right? At least that's what you were telling yourself all this time. Words count: 4,2k

I had no idea what I was doing here.

Wearing one of my fancy black dresses, I was staying in the middle of Mikaelson's compound in New Orleans, with hundreds of people surrounding me.

I was definitely making a huge mistake.

But a few hours ago, when my Mystic Falls gang tried (and failed) to kill these crazy heretics who came to our town two weeks ago, I could only think about coming here.

I needed to find a safe place to stay until Damon or Stefan called for my help.

But after hours of driving here, I wasn't sure if I still wanted to be a part of their group. Yes, I loved them all, especially Bonnie, who became my main "witch-teacher" after I found out I was like her, but sometimes I felt used by them. My power was stronger than any typical witch's. Even Bonnie was surprised to see the things I was able to do until my strength was exhausted and my nose started to bleed.

One day, Damon said that I was their greatest weapon. Then I burst out laughing. Now I'm not so sure how much the black-haired man was joking and how much his words were true. But I had to keep the promise I gave myself and stay with them, if only for Bonnie's sake. She would have killed herself trying to protect her friends, and I wouldn't let that happen. After all she did for me, I have to repay her debt of gratitude.

I turned on the radio while driving to nowhere and heard one of my favorite Mikaelson's, beloved, old songs, which was "better when it played at ball without this strange background sound." That's when I remembered Rebekah and her last words before leaving for New Orleans with her brothers: "You know, if your gang falls apart, you can always come to me. It would be funnier to have a partner in crime against Nik."

After a lengthy moral debate within me, I decided to fuck Salvatore's opinion of me and visit their nemesis. If Damon was so smart to make and realize his own crass plan without telling anyone, I could do something really stupid too and spend a week (or more) with Rebekah. After all, no one could control me.

Then it seemed like a very good plan.

Now with so many people around me, I decide that I have made a great mistake.

I totally forgot that four days ago, Bekah told me about the "engaged party" of Katherine and Elijah. (Thank God for my magic. At least I could turn pants and a T-shirt into a pretty dress.) I sent my gift to the happy couple with separate, joking congratulations to Katherine for "entrapping her Mikaelson after a long couple of centuries" without actually intending to attend the party.

Elena and Caroline would skin me if they knew that instead of buying them fancy birthday presents, I spent my money on something special for my best friend's big day.

In retrospect, I'd like to see their faces. They would be invaluable. Especially Damon's.

"My God, look who arrived!" a familiar voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

"Hi Beks." I turned around to face her.

"Hi Beks? You appear here without telling me or Katherine anything; you hide in the crowd with a mean expression on your face, and all I get after months apart is a simple "hi"?"

"Well, in my defense, I was thinking about bringing you wine, flowers, cake and saying, "I'm sorry, baby," but I figured it would be only a waste of time and my money because you're going to yell at me anyway. Also, your boyfriend would be jealous." she started laughing and pulled me into a hug.

"I haven't seen you for too long."

"Bekah, we were talking yesterday morning."

"You called her yesterday and didn't call me?!" I heard Katherine's resentful voice behind me.

"You look gorgeous, honey. Engagement suits you." she gave me an unimpressed look. "Oh, c'mon. Don't be angry. I'm here now, ready to give you compliments and fight with your fiance's brother, who loathes you. Now, show me the ring. I want to see how much money Elijah was willing to spend on you." she burst out laughing, waving her ringed hand in front of my eyes.

"You realize you're not getting off so easily? Besides, something must have happened for you to suddenly decide to come."

"We can talk tomorrow. Tonight, it's about you and your undying love for her brother." I pointed to Rebekah.

"Talking about my brothers. We'll use some help with Nik's composure for the rest of the evening."

"It is so bad?"

"Yes. He's been following Elijah and trying to convince him to change his mind since this morning." Katherine complained. "He doesn't leave us alone, even for half a second."

"Do you two really think I'm able to "charm" him for the rest of the night?"

I asked, doubts about his supposed affection towards me. Since our first meeting, I and an original hybrid have had a kind of love-hate relationship. At the beginning, we only had short, verbal skirmishes, then it evolved into an open war (he tried to hurt Bonnie, so I gave him a headache and snapped his neck. After that, he used one of his hybrids to crack my car, so I convinced Rebekah to steal his car keys and give them to me. He gave up after two weeks of our teasing and after I (with little of Damon's help) ruined all his dark plans. The original hybrid bought me my own car, trying to bury the hatchet between us.) After a month of these events, the hatred between us began to develop into a kind of mean-companionship. At least no one had tried to gouge out the eyes of the other one anymore. Our "game" developed so much that one day he began to tease me with flirtatious phrases. And it's not true that I choked on my drink and blushed like a teenager from a romance book when he called me for the first time his "innermost, darkest pleasure," whispering it with his seductive tone, which he undoubtedly used for many women before. It was at our school party in the style of the 20s. Since then, I've figured out how to play by his new rules. I couldn't be worse than him.

"Well, you're doing your job even now. He's been staring at you for about five minutes, and you haven't even used any magic. I think we all know why, but you're too stubborn to admit it, so you might as well use his soft spot for you as reparation for your silence for 3 days."

"It's not a soft spot or any other stupid feeling you assume. This is a game."

That was our way of communicating: by circling around, lulling the other person's vigilance, and attacking when he least expects it. At the end of the day, I was just a toy for him—a mortal witch who was never scared of a 1000-year-old hybrid. He proved it after he moved with his family to New Orleans, and I never heard from him again.

"I like spicy stories, but please, keep my brother's kinks away from me. BOTH of you. It's just disgusting." Rebekah shuddered.

"I'm not…"

"Did I hear something about kinks? Y/N darling, it's a pleasure to finally see you here!" Kol suddenly appeared from nowhere. He got closer to me and gave me a strong hug.

"What the bloody hell? You should be on Hayley's tail!"

"Relax, sister. Our brother's formal one-night stand peacefully came back to her husband and wolves. Which means I'm free for the rest of the evening. Y/N do you want to dance with me?" without waiting for any response, he took my hand and led me to the dance floor, where other couples were dancing.

"Alright, what did you do?" I asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

"I have no idea what are you implying. I just wanted to dance with a friend I hadn't seen in a long time."

"Kol."

"Y/N."

"Okey, okey. Don't look at me like that. In a nutshell, there is a girl." Oh, I've heard about her. I was curious how much of the original's interest in this girl was genuine.

"My God. I never expected to live to see the day Kol Mikaelson finds his epic love." I cut him off with a smirk.

"She is a hag like you, by the way." he continued, ignoring my taunt. "She doesn't want to know me, but she loves me. I just need a little magic of jealousy, and voilà, I'll be kissing her at the end of this night."

"And you didn't think, Sherlock, that acting like this would make her think that you only play with her?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. The gears in Mikaelson's head began to turn.

"F*ck. So what should I do? I've tried everything. Flowers, jewelry, old grimoires, unexpected almost-dating, puppies, cats, and all of this modern stuff."

"The idea of coming to me with a "love problem" is as ridiculous as expecting an answer, but I will try my best because you are kind of my friend and seem desperate. I don't know if you thought of it, but speaking with her and making a true confession seemed too simple, didn't it?" I said it sarcastically.

"You mean… "L" word?" he cleared his throat, ashamed.

"For the love of God, Kol Mikaelson! Do you love her?"

"Of course."

"Then get out of my eyes and tell her, not me." he disappeared as quickly as he had appeared, leaving me alone in a sea of people.

"Little bastard." I said it to myself while trying to get out of there.

But someone made sure I wasn't left alone for too long.

"Hello, my love."

I would recognize that voice even on my deathbed, and I undoubtedly knew that he would someday be the reason for my death.

"Hello Klaus." I turned around to look him in the face. He had grown more handsome since the last time I saw him, which worried me a lot. I tried to hide my unwanted emotions behind a sarcastic smirk.

"If you're wondering if Stefan or Caroline sent their regards, I'm going to have to disappoint you."

"Actually, I'm wondering who I have to kill." I frowned, not understanding him. He swept me into his arms and whirled me about the dance floor as the orchestra played. "I knew you were planning not to go to this party. Katherine was very upset about that."

"So you must have had an enjoyable couple of days." I can't stop myself from interrupting him. He gave me a small smile, shaking his head in amusement. I was so close in his arms that I could feel his every breath adjust to mine.

"You don't usually change your plans, so it's obvious that your bunch of stupid friends must have done something impressively dumb. And quite possibly, it has to do with the emergence of competition vampire's group in Mystic Falls."

"You seem quite well informed, especially for someone who doesn't care about anyone but his family."

"Ouch. As mean as I remembered."

"And you're as irritating as always. It looks like no one changed."

I sighed as I looked around the room. Mission successful - Katherine talks to Elijah. The only problem was that they looked like they were gossiping about me and Klaus…

"Tell me, did you miss me?" Klaus' taunt diverted my attention.

I thought for a moment about how to answer his question. Of course, I missed him. I frequently found myself recalling memories of us in locations where I was at the time. But as I said to Rebekah and Katherine, there was no bond between me and Klaus. We were just two bored souls who were looking for entertainment. We liked messing with people and making fun of them. That's all. There is no feeling involved. But it doesn't mean I will miss my chance.

"Yes." I whispered this while staring into his ocean eyes, never taking my gaze away from him.

He was surprised by my bold, direct statement. He leaned slightly closer to me. His gaze was moving from my eyes to my lips.

"I was bored as no one was trying to hurt me or my friends. Fortunately, Miss Salvatore came back with her own, special family." I got a little closer to him so I could whisper in his ear. "And then we had a new member of our group. Enzo. He's incredibly handsome and was an excellent substitute for your company."

He moved his hand slowly as he extended his arm to encircle my back. Then he dipped me deeply, looking at my eyes all the damn time.

"Be careful, my love. You may fall for him, of course, if you have a heart." he whispered, tightening his grip on me. I held my breath, too enchanted by the moment to respond to his taunt.

I should feel uneasy, distrustful, and disgusted that I am at his mercy, for he could drop me at any moment. Instead, all I could feel was being hypnotized by his blue eyes until he helped me get back on my feet again.

"Every girl would love him. He has dark hair, plays the guitar, and speaks with an English accent. Everyone's type, espessialy mine." I said, when I came back to my senses. If he wanted to tease me, I'd make sure I was a worthy opponent. I just had to keep my emotions under lock and key.

"So your "type" has to have an English accent? It's good to know."

"Yeah, but not as old as some of the people who live here. Also, not this one who wants to get closer to me only to use me for my power."

"You really think that little of me?"

"Is it truly important what I think about you?"

"No, not if you want me to remain a stranger to you. Not at all. But I'd like to think that we are more than we're willing to admit."

"Are you drunk?" I asked, taking a step back to examine him more closely. He began laughing at my reaction, drawing me closer to him once again.

"No, my love. I'm honest. But I'm not sure if there's a big difference between these two."

"You're honest only if you know it's in your interest. Clearly, you want something for me because you've been nicer to me than you have in the last few years. But you have to know I'm not that stupid to let you control me." I got out of his arms and went out in search of a room free of anyone.

"Running away isn't a solution, Y/N! I hope you know that." He shouted as he followed me. We came to a halt as we entered his art studio. Of all the fucking places in this huge villa, it had to be the den of the big bad wolf.

"Katherine has managed to escape you for more than 500 years." I said this without giving him a single, damning look. I much preferred to admire his works.

"Yes. Because she wanted. I'm not sure if you share her desires." He grabbed my arm, turning me to face him.

"What kind of fucked-up game are you playing right now?!" I yelled, yanking his hands away from me. He confused me. We never crossed that unspoken line in our banter. Few months apart, and now he shares the attitude of our crazy friends. That kind of playing wasn't fun at all.

"Did I bring up a sensitive topic? You're not ready to finally stop lying to yourself?" I laughed, mocking him.

"I've never claimed to be a saint." I growled at his face.

"You also never admitted being a sinner."

"That's good I've always wanted to be an anti-hero, then." I whispered, looking into his mesmerizing eyes, not even realizing that as we talked, we were getting closer, as we were suddenly a foot apart. I felt his hand slip around my waist like a snake. He pulled me closer and then I found myself pressed between his warm chest and cold wall.

"If only you weren't such a paranoid woman and suspected me of using you whenever I wanted to get closer to you. Maybe you would understand who you should be scared of and what is truly between us."

"Said the man who murdered his biological father because he was afraid Ansal would endanger Hope."

"You seem quite well informed, especially for someone who doesn't care about me."

"Katherine and Rebekah are gossipers. You can't blame me for listening to them."

"You have an excuse for every circumstance, don't you?"

"It's not my fault you can't accept the truth. Whatever you've been taking today, you'd better take less of it. It's damaging your immortal, ancient head." I started to turn towards the door, but he stopped me by grabbing my hand.

"Don't turn your back on me, love." he threatened, keeping his firm grip on my wrist.

"Or what are you going to do? Dance with me again? You're right, it's so dangerous and horrible that I can't take it anymore." I ignored his warning and tried to leave the room.

He used his vampire speed and pinned me against the door. He leaned in, his eyes closed, and rested his brow against mine. In a silent, peaceful room, our hard, synchronized breaths were the only sound I could hear. My world shrank to just the two of us. The party outside was long forgotten by me.

He rubbed the tip of his nose on mine. I shivered as I got close enough to him for the first time to feel the warmth of his lips (and yet they were so far from mine).

"You have no idea… what you're doing to me."

His deep, hoarse whisper reminded me of who was standing in front of me and why I couldn't give in to my inner, treacherous desire. Before his lips could catch mine in his intoxicating trap (and possibly destroy me for any other men), I wrapped my hands around his neck and pinned him against the door, keeping a decent distance between us.

When he felt a piece of wood on his back, he opened his eyes, looked at me, and gave me an impressive glance. He giggled sinisterly, sending a shiver down my spine.

"For your own good, if you're not ready for a fire, don't play with it, love." I leaned slightly toward him, still catching his gaze with mine.

"Who said I wouldn't be the one to burn you?" I whispered against his neck, placing a burning kiss on it.

His soft, strangled moan after I gently bit into his skin was enough reward for my patience and a sign to stop before things got deeper.

I slowly took my hand from his arm and put it on the doorknob. I smiled on his neck because he was too preoccupied with the feeling of my lips to notice anything. I decided not to tempt fate anymore. Hybrid could easily take control from me (which wouldn't be good for me at all). So I pulled the handle and opened the door. The original nearly fell down because of my sudden, unexpected move.

I left Klaus behind in my haste, casting a quick glance behind me. It was definitely worth it. His look of indignation will stay in my mind for a long time. This battle was mine. We gonna see what future bring.

I walked into the room in a magnificent mood and took the glass of wine from one of the waiters.

"Can everyone get together, please?" Elijah caught everyone's attention. "Thank you. I wanted to thank everyone for coming to our engagement party. Me and my beloved fiance are very happy to see people around us who are wishing us a long, beautiful future." the crowd began to applaud, interrupting his speech for a moment.

"Such a diva." I whispered under my breath as I sipped my wine. Rebekah somehow heard this and tried to hide her laughter.

"But I didn't gather you all here just to talk about my luck. We wanted to announce who, from our closest friends, will be the second-most important couple at our wedding. My best man and Katerina's maid of honor, I don't think it will surprise you that my best man will be my brother Niklaus."

Klaus stood on the stairs next to the couple, wearing his trademark sly grin. He scanned the crowd. His gaze lingered directly on me, and he didn't want to take his eyes off me. The little bastard must have been up to something.

"I've been thinking about this since the day we got engaged, and to be honest, the decision wasn't as easy as it seemed to be. It was my desire to have this person as my maid of honor, but circumstances indicated that, unfortunately, my dream would not come true. You don't know how happy I was when I heard a few hours ago that she agreed. So without further extensions. My chief bridesmaid and best friend, Y/N Y/L!"

Applause erupted around me. It took me a second to recover from the shock and climb the stairs. I was standing right in front of this smug son of a bitch.

"Thanks for asking." I said to Katherine when Elijah ended his speech and people spread around.

"Klaus didn't tell you?" she asked, looking at her future brother-in-law.

The original just shrugged.

"Don't worry, Kath. I won't make a scene. I'm not going to play according to the script of this drama queen. It will be a pleasure to be your maid of honor."

"I'm not a drama queen." the hybrid interjected, frowning.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." I responded, giving him a small look.

"If you're so worried about my good sleep, why don't you join me in my bed, love?" he asked, coming to my side, so I had to give him my attention.

"Ha ha. Not even in your wildest dreams."

"In my wildest dreams, we don't need a bed, love." he said, casually adjusting the strap of my dress on my shoulder. His icy fingertips brushed against my heated skin, right next to my collarbone.

"You're the thousand-year-old father of a little girl. You don't think it's time to act like an adult and not a horny teenager?" I asked, grabbing his hand and pulling it off me.

"Ouch. But then you wouldn't even notice me." he pretended to be offended. He also tightened his grip on my hand without thinking of letting go. I fell into his trap with my own fucking wish.

"Believe me, it's impossible to miss you. I've tried. Many times." I growled, trying to free my hand from him.

"Aw, is that your way of telling me I'm special to you?" he asked, clearly amused by my annoyance. I've never seen such a huge smile on his face.

"Yeah, like a plastic, red punch cup at a school party," he laughed, reluctantly releasing my hand.

I turned to say something to Kath, but then I realized that she had left us in the middle of our conversation. I sighed as I was alone with him again. It's going to be a very long week (or month).

"By the way, when are you going to tell me I'm Katherine's maid of honor?" I asked, favoring him with my look again.

"It must have slipped my mind when you were passionately kissing my neck, love."

"Oh, I remember. You were moaning for me like a street lady."

I turned to leave, but he suddenly wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against his hard, well-built chest. He placed my head on his shoulder and cupped the tip of my right ear with his lips. His fangs came out, reminding me of his superhuman strength. Sometimes I forgot that the man I was teasing could easily break me with a flick of the wrist. Of course, if I let down my guard and drop my magic for a moment. We both knew that was impossible.

"Maybe I should return you a favor, and then we will see which one of us is making the most tempting moans?" he whispered suggestively and placed a small kiss under my ear. "What do you think about it, love?" he asked, rubbing his nose against my neck. He took one deep breath before placing his revange-wet kiss there.

And then, when I was burning for even his littlest touch, he just walked away like nothing happened.

I stood there, frozen in shock, watching his receding silhouette (definitely with a proud smirk on his face).

There was only one thing in my head.

1:1 motherf*cker

428 notes · View notes