#but you'll have a good time

[chickenparm]

Proof of Concept (Kaveh/gn!Reader)

So, I read his story leaks, had a legitimate weep over this stupid, beatiful man, then set everything to the side for a moment to crank this out. Originally it was meant to be "ha ha silly dramatics" and then it very quickly evolved into "let's explore kaveh's deep-seated abandonment issues and his skewed perception of his self-worth".

anyway, enjoy, expect more kaveh.

AO3 Link

Kaveh/gn!Reader 3,847 Words - SFW Hurt/Comfort, spiraling internal monologues about self-worth in a relationship, slight codependency, resolved angst, Kaveh cries but never in front of anyone and you can't change my mind.

Kaveh owes more to you than Dori ever could have conjured up as a debt to keep him in shackles. Yet you don’t hold him down, you don’t demand constant recompense. In fact, you never make mention at all that the betterment of his life and mental health stems from you and you alone. 

When he moved out of Alhaitham’s home and into yours, Alhaitham had a rare show of concern that to any other onlooker might have been mistaken for cruelty or unnecessary jabs. But Kaveh is well aware of Alhaitham’s thought processes, loathe as he is to admit it, and understands that Alhaitham’s question isn’t posed out of malice, but of a subtle concern for someone that had once been his friend, and now exists in a nebulous in-between. 

Are you sure it’s wise to place so much stock in them? Your trust has been misplaced before, don’t put it in the wrong place again.

Perhaps on another day, Kaveh might’ve nearly spit in Alhaitham’s face for questioning both his and your integrity. But there’s something bittersweet about standing in the doorway of this home with the knowledge that it might be his last time here as a resident. Quietly, he shuts the door rather than leaves, and asks, “It must look pathetic, doesn’t it?”

“Unbelievably so, but I figured you wouldn’t welcome such an observation.”

“But you still feel the need to make it.” Kaveh’s back thuds against the door as he leans on it, the last bag of his belongings falling to the tiled floor. “I’ve always done what I think is right. Even at the detriment to myself. So tell me, Alhaitham, what would you have me do?”

“That’s not for me to decide. You and I both know that our ways of thinking are very different.” Alhaitham could have been more roundabout in calling Kaveh an idiot, but the blond appreciates Alhaitham’s candor tonight, nonetheless. “I’m just saying, don’t be blinded by your feelings to the point of tripping into yet another difficult situation. I’m under no obligation to help you again.”

No obligation, but he probably would anyway.

“Well, I won’t haunt your humble doorstep again, in that case.”

Kaveh wouldn’t dream of asking outright, he’d simply be sitting at the breakfast table one morning with red-rimmed eyes and a despondency that Alhaitham would pointedly ignore. They’d fall into the usual routine, and Alhaitham would call back into the house to remind Kaveh of the rent that’s been overdue since the first month Kaveh moved in. 

Yes, Kaveh knows his attachment is pathetic. But a lifetime of transient relationships from the most mundane scholar down to his own parents - one more permanent than the other - leaves him with an emptiness in his chest that he’s relished and nurtured up until the very moment you came along and filled it so easily. 

Your home is empty when he returns to it later that night. If you’d been here and asked, he’d have told you the trust that he took the long way home to clear his head. And then you’d ask if he spoke with Alhaitham before leaving. Kaveh would say yes, and you’d ask no more questions because if anyone understood the weird, hot-and-cold friendship of antagonism he shares with the Scribe, it would be you. 

But you aren’t home, and these questions aren’t exchanged, because he’d been adamant he finish bringing over the last few bits of his belongings while you were still out working. I don’t want to trouble you, Kaveh all but whined when you offered to call out of work for the day, for something that would only take an hour or so at most. 

Though, his little detour cost him the majority of that hour, but it’s fine. You weren’t home, you don’t notice the pinched expression on his face as he places the last of his tools in the spare bedroom you offered him to use as his office space. Much more roomy than the corner Alhaitham had afforded him, with a spacious desk you let him pick out himself, because this was his space, in the home you now share. 

If requested, he’d drop to his knees before the Dendro Archon herself and profess his love for you. Thoughts of grand exclamations of his affections danced through his mind between memorized ratios for concrete and recollected dimensions of a particular building he’s been commissioned to renovate. 

None of those had come to fruition. One morning, when he stayed over at this very house, in the very bed across the hall, you’d rolled over and cracked your eyes open before murmuring your love for him at the time of day when honesty at its most raw. And he’d taken you into his arms all over again, clutching you to his chest and stubbornly refusing to let you go lest you see the tears welling in his eyes. 

Kaveh doesn’t cry in front of you, nor anyone else. Bottling it up is just easier. Then he can unpack things later, and truly feel the crushing weight of everything when he’s the only one that will suffer the consequences. He’s the only one that deserves to suffer through them.

It had been a long time since someone claimed any sort of affection for him, platonic or otherwise. At least in any way that felt clear and true. Sure, his mother sends letters from Fontaine, and she closes them with an obligatory sentence about how she loves her son, tucked between sentences about her new husband and how she’s found happiness again. 

Why couldn’t it have been in a place I could be, too? He wonders later at night, but then he feels you shift in his arms in the darkness of the room and doesn’t mind so much anymore. If he’d followed her to Fontaine, he never would’ve made friends with Tighnari, who never would have introduced him to you, who never would have allowed him to love with all he has. 

Kaveh’s heart had to learn to beat in new ways, to accommodate the affection you provide him, and the room he’s been given to exercise such muscles. 

One by one, he places tools on his desk and aligns them carefully according to his muscle memory. In the midst of a bout of inspiration, little time can be wasted on lifting his eyes to find the right pencil, the right scale, the right template. It’s in the midst of a focus similar to that he doesn’t hear the front door open, or quiet steps down the short hallway. 

But the corner of his eyes catch you standing in the doorway, watching him quietly with an unreadable expression. When Kaveh gives you his full attention, your mouth blooms into a familiar smile as you step into the room. “Everything go okay? Sorry I couldn’t be around to help.”

“There wasn’t much to help with.” Kaveh waves a hand, swatting away your apologies that are unwarranted. “Besides, I don’t want to-”

“-be trouble, I know.” An exasperated look crosses your face, just for a second. Kaveh’s heart clenches - he’s not fond of seeing anything on your face that isn’t happiness. He’s yet to reach the end of your patience, but everyone has a limit. It takes only one single brick for a load bearing wall to crumble. Tonight especially, he’s come to realize that the structure of his wellbeing has been carefully crafted around you as its foundation. 

Kaveh is snapped out of his thoughts as you take his hand in your own. Like surfacing from a still pool of water he hadn’t realized he’d been drowning in, Kaveh takes a sharp breath and looks at you with a smooth mix of astonishment and gratitude. The exasperation is gone, and in its place is worry. “Are you alright? Are you having second thoughts?”

“Never.” Kaveh says a little too forcefully, a little too vehement. It’s not himself he needs to convince of his adamancy for this being a good decision; he could never regret sharing a home with you and building it further. It’s you, who is suddenly looking concerned. Kaveh takes your other hand as well, his fingers lacing with yours until they’re pressed palm-to-palm. “Just silly thoughts in my head that have been plaguing me all day. Nothing for you to worry about, dear, I just need to shake them off.”

“If you’re sure…” You’re not convinced. But you don’t push, and he won’t reveal a thing until he’s ready. He only hopes that his hand won’t be forced in the form of begging you to put up with him a little longer rather than cast him to the side. Swallowing hard, he pushes those thoughts away with vicious force. You’re not leaving him, he’s done nothing wrong, the two of you are in love-

Again, he’s drawn from his head by your fingers squeezing his own comfortingly. “Then, I’ll believe you. I’m gonna make dinner, anything you want in particular? Sounds like you’ve had a hard day.”

“I’m fine with whatever’s easy for you. I’m going to be in here a little longer getting things set up, if you don’t need help.”

A shrug, a quiet agreement, and your lips pressed to his cheek saying more words than you’ve let free verbally. All he needs to do is call your name, and you’d turn right back around and listen to what’s laying heavily on his mind. But how does it go about telling you that what sits on his shoulders with the most weight is the prospect of you growing tired of him, of you realizing that there might be another out there that offers more for you than he could ever hope to?

So, Kaveh lets you go and turns back to his drafting table. Muscle memory or not, he’s realized he’s placed his tools in the wrong order anyway.

---

Kaveh expected things to feel different. 

He’s not disappointed - no, he’s actually rather happy about it all. Living with you had been something he fretted over for months before you were the one to bring it up. To be in your presence constantly was a gift for him, and you expressed the same sentiment, but there’s always a part of him gnawing away at his resolve. 

Perhaps you’re just being nice, or you don’t feel the need to tell him outright that maybe he’s a little too loud at night while working on scale models. Maybe you don’t find it necessary to reveal your annoyances when Kaveh forgets to wash his coffee cup before leaving in the morning, or when he wakes up before you and rams his shin on the edge of the bed because he doesn’t want to turn any lights on to disturb you. 

You’re disturbed anyway, but your smile is nothing but sweet and sympathetic as he stands on one leg and clutches his shin and tries to bite back his swears of both pain and frustration at himself. Honestly, it’s been weeks, he should be used to the layout even before moving in, when he stayed here often enough that it seemed the natural next step. 

When he brings up his apologies for all those made-up grievances - his loud tendencies, his infrequent scatterbrained memory in times of hurry, the growing bruise on his shin - you’re purely confused at it all. 

“I’m sorry for being so loud the other night.”

“Were you loud? Ah, Alhaitham mentioned something like that. He gave me these little squishy things to put in my ears so I can still sleep, see?”

And that’s one worry that slips away from him with only a few words from you. You’d never been upset in the first place. 

“I’ll try to remember to do my dishes before I leave.”

“Oh, your cup? I make myself breakfast and have to do my own dishes anyway. It’s okay if you leave it, I’ll get it for you.”

He still feels a little guilty when he sets the mug next to the sink, and decides on a happy medium where he rinses it out at least. There, now they both can be satisfied with the outcome, he tells himself as he stomps down the doubt beginning to creep in once more. 

As you sit with him in the bathroom after his incident with the side of the bed and his shin, you make him sit on the counter so you can observe the growing bruise. Your fingers poke and prod, and while he hisses in discomfort a few times, you’re satisfied that it at least isn’t broken in any way. “You’ll make a full recovery, my good patient.”

“So no amputations? Thank goodness, what a relief.” Kaveh’s head rolls back to really emphasize his appreciation for keeping all his limbs, and also to hide the way his cheeks flush pink and his nerves creep to the surface. You’re not normally awake at this hour, yet here you are kneeling in front of him as you return from the kitchen with an ice pack. 

The chill of it pressing to his skin makes him inhale sharply, and your laughter fills the bathroom as you look far too mischievous for that to have been a mistake. “Guess you didn’t hear my warning. Whoops!”

Kaveh knows damn well you hadn’t said a word. Lost in thoughts or not, he’s got enough presence of mind to keep an iota of attention on you - Kaveh is always watching, always on the lookout for your moods, always worried that this next minor slip-up will be the one to make you realize it’s easier to disentangle yourself from him. 

Almost everyone else does.

But things fall into a rhythm as he settles into the home you now share with him. Kaveh forgets his keys once, and the next time he finds a spare key tucked into the eaves of the house without a word of admonishment on your part. You come home late from work one evening and he’s made your favorite dinner and washed up the dishes. 

And a new project is breaking ground and requiring him to be out later than usual, more often than not. By the time he gets home, you’re fast asleep, leftovers in the fridge for him if he’s hungry. Even if he isn’t, he eats them anyway, if only because you put the effort into thinking of him. Kaveh only hopes you hadn’t been waiting up for him. 

Tentatively, he closes the bedroom door and leans on it. You’re curled around his pillow, your face buried in the fabric as you fell asleep while inhaling his scent. His heart clenches, panic creeping in at the thought of you going to bed alone and pining for him while he was miles away working. 

Kaveh should have been here. He should have been firm that he wasn’t going to stay late at the site, so he could return home to his partner and ensure that they’re happy, and laughing, and not lonely in the slightest. Precedence should’ve been given to you, because you’ve always given it to him. He’s been unbelievably selfish and self-centered, and only realized it when it was just a little too-

“Kaveh…?” Your voice breaks through, mired with your leftover sleep as you break from a dream and look at him through cracked eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Everything, he wants to say, and it’s my fault.

The light catches on his jaw as he chews his cheek, and your eyes zero in from across the room. A nervous tick, something he does when he’s stalling for time and thinking of an answer that he thinks is going to be the most diplomatic. Yet he’s never needed to be that way with you, he’s supposed, and under your scrutiny he quietly cracks. 

The bed dips under him as he disrobes and climbs beneath the sheets. Rather than push you out of his space meant for him to sleep in, he simply winds himself into the empty spaces left amongst your limbs until his chest is pressed to your back in a perfect curve. Nowhere ever feels as right as when he’s pressed against you. The only time his heart feels as if it’s beating at a proper tempo is when it’s perfectly matching yours. 

And the thought of losing this, of having ruined things with thoughtless actions makes his lungs feel too shallow to pull in a full breath of air. They shudder with the effort, stinging just as much as his eyes as he buries his face into the crook of your neck and hopes to every Archon listening that you don’t feel the dampness on your skin from his overwhelming feelings. 

Kaveh flinches as your hand comes to rest on his forearm winding around your waist. The tips of your fingers trace along his skin, along silvery scars you’ve memorized from that accident so long ago that had been so detrimental to him mentally, rather than physically. Beneath the pads of your fingers, they’re less obtrusive, even after years of smoothing via the passage of time. 

Biting his tongue, Kaveh holds his breath to avoid the quake of his body as it attempts to breathe in and then let it all out in a harsh sob. You don’t need this, you don’t need to know why he’s desolate, even if it’s because of you. Desperately, he wants to keep you close, to show that he can do better if you’ll only give him another chance, and another, and another…

“Kaveh, darling, why are you crying?” Your voice has more clarity now; you hadn’t gone back to sleep after he took you into his arms. Kaveh should’ve figured that, and he self-admonishes that it would be awfully difficult to remain asleep if your lover was clinging to you and wetting your skin with their tears. 

How does he begin to tell you what he’s feeling? Of all the seminars and lectures he’d been to during his time in the Akademiya, a fair few of them began with a question for the audience. It’s as good a tactic as any, and he pulls away to wet his lips and grimace at the salt gathered there from his tears. Quietly, he poses the question, “Are you going to leave me?”

Anyone else would have responded with an outburst. A demand to explain what he’s talking about, how he’s come to that conclusion, why they’re being accused of that. But a quiet sigh leaves you as your fingers continue their trail along the skin of his arms. It’s not a denial, not at first, and his breath starts to pick up before you adeptly calm him with only a few words. 

“I knew something was going on in that pretty head of yours.” You don’t turn to look at him, affording him a bit of privacy when you could’ve easily looked him in the eye and put him on the spot. Kaveh leans heavily against you, burying his face in your neck once more to take in whatever comfort he can glean from you before you let him down. It would only be your right, of course. 

Your hand stops, instead wrapping around his wrist, to pull it from your body. When his hand is freed, you lace your fingers together and squeeze hard. The sharp sting makes him inhale, clears his thoughts for just a moment so he can fully listen as you say, “I’ll never leave you, Kaveh. But I need you to tell me what brought this one on.”

The wording is precise; this isn’t the first time. It can be attributed to a myriad of things, but they all can be boiled down to their base level of definition. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Says who? You?” It’s a bit biting, but that’s what he needs right now, he knows. Softness lets him slip away, lets him dig deep into his woes and wrap them tightly to the point of strangulation. Only a firm hand is enough to keep him grounded in the moment, to keep him listening to what you have to say. “Kaveh, there’s only one person who gets to decide who deserves me, and that’s me. And there’s no one else that I’d rather love than you. I’m not going to leave you, even if you want me to. You’re stuck with me.”

Stuck. As if you were the burden, not the one in this relationship that shoulders the majority of burdens. Kaveh lets out a quivering sigh, one that breezes across your skin amongst the wetness left there, chilling to the point of goosebumps. “I love you. I just feel like I don’t give you everything that you need, or deserve. The entire world is just out of my grasp.”

“I feel rather fulfilled without the whole world, thank you.” Sass seeps through, your fingers tightening around his own briefly before you shift back further against him. The gesture emphasizes your adamancy as you say rather plainly, “Excess is just that. I don’t need anything more than what you’re already giving me - your love, and companionship. Seeing you happy is all I want, Kaveh. Are you happy with me?”

“Unbelievably so, that’s why I’m terrified that you’re not. It would be so easy for you to just… cut loose and count your losses-”

“Easy for whom? Certainly not for me, because losing you would be something I’d never fully recover from.” The hand not holding his reaches up to tangle in his hair for a moment, fingers pushing hair behind his ear in a blind, clumsy movement that he leans into on instinct. Your voice is lower and even as you remind him of a simple fact that he often overlooks in his moments of weakness. “I love you. You mean everything to me.”

The tension in his shoulders eases, the tightness of his jaw loosens so he can feel the ache of his teeth from the pressure. He hadn’t realized how tightly he’d been wound until you deftly untangle him with so little effort. The tremble of his voice is unmistakable as a fresh wave of tears come, this time in relief. “I love you, too. So much that it hurts. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Probably the same as me, which is ‘be a disaster’. We’re better together, Kaveh. There’s nothing you could do that would make me love you any less.” 

A sharp whoosh of air leaves you as his arms suddenly wind tight, abandoning your hand in favor of simply clinging to you with all the strength he can muster. 

Kaveh expected things to feel different. And they do, bit by bit. It’s a work in progress, a first draft, a proof of concept as the two of you build toward something safe and wonderful. In the morning, he’ll drink his coffee and hold your words close enough that the heat and pressure will burn them into the fibers of his beating heart, meant only for you. 

[rogueshadeaux]

“I hate the script, the vault dwellers sound so cheesy—“ my Brother in Steel you realize that’s the point, right? They were bred to act like the physical embodiment of an HR e-mail. Did you not catch the memo that Vault-Tec put out regarding their experiment facilities?

[hansoeii]

need some help with that?

[cangrellesteponme]

wife

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Good morning, Sleepyhead.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[kristybluebird]

All things will fade, maybe it's better off that way; I wish you'd stay with me.

[halorvic]

[front-facing-pokemon]

[demaparbat-hp]

The Painted Lady turned around slowly, deliberately, and stared right through each ghost present in the room. Then, she raised her hands in a graceful arc, pointed loosely at the ceiling, and chanted, “Well, off you go.” She made a shoo, go away gesture, the spirits disappeared, and—wait. The spirits disappeared.

Izumi comes back in For the Spirits Chapter VI: Dream of You. Zuko has a mild panic attack and her upbeat attitude does not help him (or does it?).

Just what is she up to? And what is the meaning behind the blue eyes from Zuko's dream?

[owlsie-hoot]

"Mrs Hall and I spoilt him rotten, ruined him entirely. Sorry about that." (05x01 To All Our Boys)

[stealingyourbones]

For the bats, it didn't start with a boy. It didn't start with a scared, bruised, and bloody boy seeking their help on patrol. It didn't start with bumping randomly into a clone of one or the other Wayne boy on the street.

It started slowly, after an Arkahm outbreak.

Some rogues didn't turn up even after a while.

Twoface, Clayface.

The Bats hoped, Hoped they were taking a break and not planning something together.

Other people turned Up. Men and women in white suits. They seemed to be looking for something. Or someone.

Then other rogues vanished.

Killer Croc, Mr. Freeze.

It came to a head when Red Hood witnessed Riddler being kidnapped by the Guys in White.

He was actually in a fight with Scarecrow at that moment as a Lazarus green beam shot out of an ally a block away. A second later he heard Riddler's pained cry and saw the man flying out of the ally and onto the street. His side was smoldering, clearly having been hit by the beam and Riddler had a little trouble getting to his feet. Unfortunately for him, two men in white used the moment to stun him with a Taser, put him in a collar that was also attached to handcuffs, and shoved him into a white van that followed the men out of the ally.

Hood didn't quite believe what he just saw. He questioned the filter of his helmet when Scarecrow offered his help on fighting the people in White.

.

[royalarchivist]

Richarlyson: One day I decided to create a little joke. I knew there was little to do at the day then I saw dad wandering, and I got a joke from another day and made it into a scary stunt! KKKKKKKK

At the end of the day dad told me, "I loved what you did, I hope this is not a only one time thing, bc if it is, I will hung you down and kill u." KKKKK Then for months, I fought and stayed some 30 min when no one was around anymore, I was alone, in this place, to continue this little stunt.

I remember when people would come to me and say "I didn't knew you could create something so cool!" KKKKKKKK and to be fair tio, neither did I. I am so, so very grateful, for this place. Sorry, that I could never put an end dot to that little stunt pai Cellbit <3 >:D I hope you liked it.

Bad: I'm sure he did Richas.

Richarlyson talks about his Romero Richas lore.

[chalkrub]

challenging myself by engaging in the ancient art known as "dynamic poses", but making it harder on myself by ignoring the noble practice of "using references"

featuring belvedere and florawell

[beastwhimsy]

I'm completely enamored with this wizard who is in like 5 episodes total and gets barely any lines and I have found THREE other artists who have ever drawn fanart of him. anyway I have decided that I will rectify this injustice by getting even more unwell about them. here he is I love you life giving magus

they're the kind of wizard to say "wonderful!! ^_^ 🌼🌷💞" and "HOT DOG!!!!!!!!‼️💥🤯" in the same 10 seconds <- he has done this canonically

ID in alt, please consider reblogging thank you I love you

they're so silly I love you gnc wizard teacher who enjoys road trips and making yummy treats with their friends

[noxious-fennec]

Some wilbur art ft. Him smiling for once