#i cannot put my emotions into words any better than this

[ellis-ofwoolworth]

i absolutely love kitty in s4. i feel like she's slowly maturing but still keeping the happiness and carefree attitude and i for one am absolutely living for it

[wonryllis]

☆ ᵎᵎ ENHYPEN COMING HOME TO FIND YOU ASLEEP.

╰ 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇.

𝒏o𝓉ℯs. enhypen in whipped era 𖥔 ݁ fluff, soft soft softtt LIB? fem!reader word count `719 PLS REBLOG!!

𝗹𝗲𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗲𝘀𝗲𝘂𝗻𝗴 he knows you stay up late waiting for him, this time he finds your figure laid against the soft cushion in a weirdly adorable position. heeseung quietly tiptoes to have a closer look, taking his time to admire your sleeping face. oh he so wishes to keep coming home to you like this. he'd sit beside you and tell you things he could never have said to your face, his deepest thoughts. apologizing for things he could've done better and thanking you for being with him and loving him.

i think i will love you forever, i want to.

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝗷𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘀𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗴 he is so used to it, at least he thinks he's so used to it but everytime he comes home to find you passed out on the couch, or on the carpet slightly lolling to the side the book in your hands almost falling off, he feels the same butterflies he did when it first happened. if you aren't in your pajamas already, best believe he'll change you himself, not wanting to disturb your sleep and put you to bed like magic fairy. he'll join you in later, and if you accidentally stir awake he'll put you back to sleep.

shh, go back to sleep love, i'm right here.

𝘀𝗶𝗺 𝗷𝗮𝗲𝘆𝘂𝗻 this guy has a field trip range of emotions upon seeing you asleep after a long day of work. he feels this fuzzy and warm feeling watching the one he loves sleep so peacefully, and on the other hand he's so excited to just join you. if you're on the couch he'll squeeze himself in whatever space he finds and cuddle you into the morning and if you're on the bed, he'll leech onto you leaving more than half the mattress empty while he snuggles into his baby on your side of the bed.

mmm, love having you in my arms like this

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗻 outwardly he's so nonchalant at first, just coming up to your passed out figure and picking you up to get you to the bed, a smile on the tip of his lips. however the moment you nuzzle into him in a soft whine, he's so putty feeling his heart skip beats, his breath staggering like boy is damn smitten. placing you on the bed he'll quietly pull the covers on, a sneaky kiss on the lips and then leave the room to calm himself down, maybe even scream silently a little with the way you get him nervous over nothing.

fuck, she's so damn adorable i'll melt.

𝗸𝗶𝗺 𝘀𝗲𝗼𝗻𝘄𝗼𝗼 he'll text you to ask if you're awake and if you don't respond he knows you're out. he'd definitely softly speak about his day even though you're not listening. complimenting you as he always does of how pretty you manage to look all the time. will sing you a bunch of songs if you wake up, holding you close and tracing over your features, smiling so wide all the tiredness of the day washes away. also makes sure to wake up before you to again admire your sleeping face.

you're the best thing that's ever happened to me.

𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗴 𝗷𝘂𝗻𝗴𝘄𝗼𝗻 asleep or not, jungwon is always careful when he walks through the door, softly opening and closing it. tiptoeing inside as quietly as he possibly can, and when he spots you asleep on the couch he'll put everything down to bring you to bed. carrying you like the most precious thing, laying you on the mattress and immediately leaning over to leave kisses all over. if you stir awake he's getting in and cuddling you back to sleep, hands caressing your head gently.

it's just me baby, you looked so cute couldn't help it.

𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗺𝘂𝗿𝗮 𝗿𝗶𝗸𝗶 will absolutely not switch on anything or make any sound and obviously will carry you to bed if you're passed out somewhere else. he'll kinda avoid looking at your face, until he cannot help it and god help him because once he does he'll be glued, eyes staring non stop. he can't believe someone so beautiful loves him, and all these complicated emotions come at once. he's overwhelmed and so whipped, he'd play around with your hair deep in these thoughts until sleep comes to him too.

how did i manage to have someone like you?

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz

[embrosegraves]

𝔻𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖 𝔻𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕌𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣

Oscar Piastri x Horner!Reader Oscar finds that having a crush having less than platonic feelings for your boss's only adult daughter is apparently free real estate for some of F1's biggest gossips

Warnings: As per, explicit language and grammatical errors.

dates on tweets don't exist, right? they're all just fake??

series masterlist | previous part | next part

Aus GP

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oscarpiastri A week full of sim training, rage rooms and relaxation before going home for a p1 on the podium (hopefully) (max let me have this i beg) tagged: redbullracing, yn.horner

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logansargeant did I not tell you rage rooms were the coolest ever -> oscarpiasrti yeah yeah keep bragging 🙄 -> logansargeant well since you gave me permission-

fan38 at least its a controlled environment to deal with your emotions -> yn.horner thank FUCK i convinced him to do this instead of what Ruben wanted -> rubenholtt what was wrong with egging and tp-ing her house? -> yn.horner uhh everything???

maxverstappen1 I'm not gonna go easy on you just because you grew up 10 minutes from the track -> oscarpiastri BOOOOO 🍅🍅🍅

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user358 make him wear them!!

oscarpiastri The glasses are NOT the issue and you know it. -> yn.horner What you think I don't look good with facial hair? -> oscarpiastri Hey don't put words in my mouth -> oscarpiastri I just wasn't expecting you to pick up looking like THAT

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redbullracing The face of a man that snagged P2 AT HIS HOME RACE, channelled his inner Elle Woods ("What, like it's hard?") and then proceeded to not elaborate any further tagged: oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri What can I say, I'm just built diff 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️ -> liked by author

danielricciardo We stand on business here -> oscarpiastri And that's on what? -> yn.horner PERIODTTTTTT

user325 AND NOT A SINGLE DISQUAL IN SIGHT -> danielricciardo 😢😢 -> user325 sorry Danny -> danielricciardo 😒🫶

Japan GP

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yn.horner having matching plushies always helps me feel better when i'm away from home

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oscarpiastri what names have you chosen for yours? assuming that whoever they match with has named theirs -> yn.horner their names are confidential i'm afraid -> oscarpiastri boooooo no fun :(

user549 wish my boyfriend did this for me -> user550 babe, we're literally on our way to go buy jellycats -> user549 ok and???

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if you see this, know that you WILL be getting the next update after the Imola GP i promise.

I've been in a really odd spot in my life where I haven't been very motivated to do any writing (or even just creating in general) for long burst of time, which means that any requests I have been sent previously have been sitting in my drafts half finished because I cannot for the life of me find any inspiration to write anything.

I count myself lucky that I had enough motivation and energy to start pre-planning for the rest of this series. If you take a look at the series masterlist you'll notice that there are numbers next to the current chapters and beyond. I've decided that the entire series is going to be 14 chapters in total with a bonus chapter for Oscar and Y/n's shenanigans at the end of the 2024 season.

I can't thank everyone enough for being so incredibly patient with me as I try to work through this writing slump. Slowly but surely I will start uploading fic reqs again

-- Embrose xx

[octopiys]

Some incorrect quotes and scenes for the pies

Roach: *Screams*

Ghost: *Screams louder to establish dominance*

Capt. MacTavish: Should we do something?

Capt. Price: No, I want to see who wins.

-

Alejandro: You lying, cheating, piece of shit!

Valeria: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD

Alejandro: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING RODOLFO WITH ME

Rodolfo, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.

Price: You know, not every problem can be solved with a knife.

Ghost: That's why I carry two knives.

-

Soap: I made tea.

Ghost: I don’t want tea.

Soap: ....I did not make tea for you. This is my tea.

Ghost: Then why are you telling me?

Soap: It is a conversation starter.

Ghost: That’s a lousy conversation starter.

Soap: Oh, is it? We are conversing. Checkmate.

-

Gaz: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming

Price, putting his head in his hands: Does anyone in this goddamn team ever think before they speak-

-

Graves: Must be hard not being able to laugh

Alejandro: I do have a sense of humor you know

Graves: I’ve never heard you laugh before

Alejandro: I’ve never heard you say anything funny

Graves:

Graves: fuck you

Alejandro: fuck you

-

Soap, motioning to a Halloween display: All these ghosts! All these ghosts! I still can’t find a boo.

Ghost:

Ghost: is it because I said I didn't want your tea-

Soap: YES ITS BECAUSE YOU SAID YOU DIDNT WANT MY TEA

-

Ghost: Schrödinger’s cat is overrated. If you wanna see something that’s both dead and alive you can talk to me any time of the day.

Gaz, just finding out that Ghost is legally dead:

-

Gaz: Why isn’t the statue smirking at me?

Price: It isn’t smirking at anyone, they’re all just imagining it.

Soap: Three of us saw it, Cap. How do you explain that?

Price: *points at Soap* Sleep deprivation. *points at König* Paranoia. *points at Ghost* Delusional personality disorder.

Gaz:

Gaz: damn.

-

Roze: What’s something you guys are better than Horangi at?

Hutch: Mario Kart.

O'Conor: Yeah, video games.

König: Emotional vulnerability

-

Graves: *Gets down on one knee*

Alejandro: Oh my god, it’s finally happening.

Graves: *Falls over*

Alejandro: The poison is kicking in.

-

Gaz, after falling out of a heli for the third time: Do you take constructive criticism?

Nikolai: I only take cash or credit.

-

Soap: Can you keep a secret?

Ghost: Do you know anything about my life?

Soap: No I do not. Good point.

-

Gaz: Hey heads up if you try to make a candle with food coloring, the food coloring will just sink to the bottom of the glass, and when the flame eventually reaches the bottom all the food coloring will catch fire and become one giant tall flame that you cannot possibly blow out and the glass will start to crack and then you'll throw your tea on it in a panic and then the extremely hot food coloring will boil and sizzle horribly and then the glass will shatter. Please take my word on this haha-

Roach: What did you-?

Gaz: A MISTAKE WAS MADE

-

-

I just wanna say thank you all sm for 300 followers! You all r loved and I'm not good with responses but I appreciate them all so muck, thank u again :DDDDD

[harmonysanreads]

What do you think about Yan! Focalors?

I saw this ask a while back but I decided to first see Furina's personality in-game before answering and mmmm, definitely possible. Though if I ever do include her in any of my writings, I'll be keeping it platonic :>

Furina's life source is the spotlight, she thrives in the very epicenter of attention. At the same time, she seems to have a distinct need for external validation. Her extravagant manner of speech is both her weapon and her shield. If you wish to catch her attention and keep it fixated upon you until a solid foundation of affection can be formed ; you'd need to be a bit of an anomaly. Someone who's a challenge, someone who's not swayed by her provocations and someone who can see through her bravado. What would really change the trajectory of your relationship is, if you'd share a vulnerable moment with her, as as it is seen she prefers to keep her troubles and insecurities to herself.

Furina knows when she likes someone or something enough to make a move, so her initial strategy is to put all sorts of grandiose shows that flaunt her own admirable qualities. There's another reason she chooses this method, that is the pressure that comes from the public and which she hopes would push you to accept her proposals. When that doesn't work and gossip of the Hydro Archon getting rejected spreads like wildfire, Furina is embarrassed. But ever the stubborn one, she employs strategies after strategies to gain your attention and praise (she phrases it as you getting hers instead because of course) and even the tiniest quantity of it has her squealing at the quiet confines of her bedroom.

I think she's one of those characters who get hit by a whole existential crisis the moment they realize they've actually caught feelings for someone. It becomes blatantly clear to bystanders as well, she fumbles with her words, twiddles her thumbs and reacts strongly with matters that concern you. Definitely throws a tantrum if you don't notice the new bow she wore. At the same time, she does thorough research on you from the time you get up for bed to who your first ancestor was. She makes sure to learn about your interests and hobbies and might even start doing them herself to better bond with you. She'd consider those all-nighters worth it if she manages to get even an impressed look from you.

As her affections grow in intensity, she starts expressing her jealousy. She cannot stand you being all buddy-buddy with someone who's obviously lesser than her, she's the better choice! Can't you see?! Thankfully, getting pesky pedestrians out of the picture is easy in Fontaine — given that you know how to use its laws against your enemies. One thing is for certain though, because of the influx of these new and intense emotions, Furina is rather unstable. She'd never physically hurt you (that's just not her thing) but she does take a lot of impulsive decisions that effect the surroundings.

If push comes to shove and you still refuse to reciprocate her love despite all that she's done, her final weapon is the courtroom. Remember? Getting anyone out of the picture is easy if you know your way around the laws of Fontaine and really, who'd look for you at the Hydro Archon's palace if they believed you to be sentenced to lifelong prison?

[drizztdohurtin]

Rolan Headcanons: pining and dating

〚 Masterlist | WIP List 〛

This post will be organized into 2 parts: pining and dating (to be fair though, it's more like unofficially dating vs officially dating) - so only read the parts you're interested in! The marriage and domesticity post will follow soon!

-MDNI-

includes language alluding to 18+ content, but nothing explicit.

"Pining"

so I think that your guys' "relationship" would start during the events of act 2 - but nothing would be official

I know a lot of you probably hate the connotation of "situationship" but I'm going to be honest: the word itself fits perfectly

try to get rid of the gross feeling that word leaves in your brain for a second and think about the things you're having to do throughout the events of the game

you are fighting people every! single! day!, you have a fucking tadpole in your brain that could turn you into a mind flayer at the drop of a dime if something were to happen to your guardian, you're eventually tasked with killing three Chosens of their respective Gods, you're navigating the shadow cursed lands and dealing with all the literal freaks that live in it -- you cannot have a real relationship right now !!! it would be the most depressing thing ever !!

It's a bit of a situation for a while, you guys are into each other and have reciprocated some level of feelings for the other, whether it's just lust or it's something deeper (or both), and by the end of act 2 it's just kind of a situation with him

on top of that, you both are hiding it from everyone else

you're also trying to be considerate of Rolan and his life, his safety

being in a relationship with him, making promises to him, would put him in danger - you'd put him in danger

on top of that, he's been working so hard for the apprenticeship he's on his way to the city for, and for so long, too - he needs to focus on that

despite these two major components, you still can't keep away from each other, and eventually, just allow yourselves to indulge in each other just a little bit before going separate ways for the events of act 3

You both take a private moment to say your goodbyes before leaving the inn for good, after having spent multiple tendays getting to know each other and revealing certain feelings

during that moment, he tells you to come find him in the city when you can and he makes you promise not to get yourself killed

you're like "erm 🤨☝ how do I-" and he's like JUST PROMISE ME

So now you really can't die, bc Rolan said so.

my headcanon is that you two are actually quite close, quite bonded by the time act 3 begins

neither of you has said "I love you" to the other at this point, but you both came super close to it on the day you killed Lorroakan after having found Rolan all beaten up

despite everything you'd been through up to that point, you've never been quicker to kill someone than in that moment

after the fight, Rolan pulls you into an intense, yet somehow still gentle hug, and you reciprocate - hoping to the Gods he doesn't have any bruises where you're squeezing him

that moment you're both holding each other, with so many emotions hanging in the air, is when you both nearly say it

except you don't - because there's a deep, unspoken understanding between the two of you that nothing can happen until you both know it's safe

you end up telling your companions that you're done for the day, that they can go do whatever they want, and you'll meet them at the tavern in the morning

(they have put two and two together by now if you haven't told them at this point)

you spend the entire night taking care of him and making him feel better (take that however you'd like)

leading up to the final fight, there'd be a moment between the two of you when he timidly asks you if you'll come to him after you beat the Absolute

when you remind him your chances of survival are small, he tells you again that you're not allowed to get yourself killed

the moment is cute but it's also terribly sad - but you still promise him you'll return to him when it's all over

and when the time comes, that's exactly what happens

he was at home in the tower, he had been pacing the entire time waiting for your arrival - first aid equipment and healing potions on the desk in case you needed them

he'd been drinking too, as proven by the empty bottle of wine next to all the healing supplies

when you entered the room, horribly bruised and bloodied, he makes a noise that perfectly reflects the level of relief he feels - something between a shocked gasp and a relieved sigh

"my love" he'd call to you breathlessly, not even hesitating to bring you into his arms despite how dirty you were

the two of you are immediately on the same page, holding each other impossibly close, kissing deeper than you ever have before

he buries his face in your neck with another "my love" before telling you how relieved he is that you're alive

"I love you" finally comes out that night

he'd have you rinse off briefly as he ran a hot bath for you, adding lavender oils to soothe your mind, and mineral salts to soothe your body

he'd get in with you, place you on his lap facing him, and just hold you as you told him about the horrors of the fight

you'd tell him how you couldn't believe it was over, that a part of you was terrified that something else would come up and you'd have to jump back into action and that it'd never end

he'd reassure you that there was nothing else to worry about, promising it was all over as he ran his hands soothingly over your body, feeling all of your scars under his fingertips and palms - thinking about everything you'd been through, everything you'd sacrificed

an icy twang of guilt pierces through him when his fingers graze over the scar you got in the fight to save his siblings, and he shudders before pulling you in as close as possible

He'd tell you, in the most sincere voice you had ever heard from him, that he loves you - your whole body flushing with warmth at his confession

you'd told him earlier how you didn't really have anywhere to go now that this was all over and you'd have to find somewhere to live

he'd just kind of brush it off, saying you could stay at the tower as long as you needed to

it wouldn't be until later that night once you were tangled up together in bed that he'd tell you not to look for somewhere to stay

He'd tell you to stay with him, that he wanted to go to sleep next to you every night and wake up by your side every morning

He'd tell you again that he loves you before finally expressing how honored he'd be to call you his

over 700 words later, you guys are finally official LDFLDFJD

Dating:

you take him up on his offer, obviously, and you move in with him right after the events of the game

Turns out Rolan had told Lia and Cal about the two of you, and his feelings for you, that night you fought the Absolute and he was stuck at home worried about you

His siblings had come into the room he was in to ask where to find something, only to find an extremely anxious Rolan

He wouldn't have much patience with them, bursting out in a ramble upon the first question they ask him - exposing his feelings for you and all of the moments he'd shared with you up to that point, and how now the person he loved could very well die

They were like "well yeah okay we knew you had a thing for them but love?!?!"

That's why they weren't surprised to see you there the next morning - they really liked you so they were quite happy, actually

there was a little bit of a learning curve in your guys' relationship at first

you'd only ever known each other during the most stressful parts of your lives

so now that your lives were far less stressful, you almost didn't know how to handle it - but Rolan was incredibly understanding and patient with you

it was like you weren't processing what you needed to, and your body was still in "go, go, go" mode

Initially, you kept yourself busy by helping Rolan with his tasks around the tower - it was easy for you to get lost in the tedious work of cataloging and organizing all of the books and scrolls

As much as Rolan loved spending time with you and the interest you were expressing in his work, he worried about you.. a lot

He'd eventually ask you if you had an interest in venturing out more into the city as he'd been worried about how secluded you'd become (he was gently trying to get you back into society)

You both had compromised that whenever he was doing tasks around the tower you'd be allowed to help him, but when he was doing "master of the tower" things, you'd go into the city to visit the markets or something similar

Upon returning home on one of the days you had to go out into the city while he worked, you were immediately greeted with a loving hug and kiss from Rolan before he led you to the dining room

There on the table was your favorite meal from home, something you hadn't had since you were a child, something you'd only told Rolan about once

You were breaking down before you even picked up your silverware, and Rolan was by your side in the blink of an eye

That was the night you finally began to process what had happened to you, and he was there for you through every second of it

I didn't mean to get lowkey sad wth, anyways

Rolan can cook!

He loves to cook for you, he will literally make anything you want

He'd cook for you on the same night each week, but he always wished he could do it more often, he looks forward to it every day

Each time is like a little date - and you have such lovely conversations on those nights, it's probably his favorite thing to do with you

Other honorable mentions for Rolan's favorite things to do with you include reading to you in bed while you're curled up to him, and taking relaxing baths with you (and other things with you, but I already made a post about that)

Rolan is very much husband-material

While you're dating, you talk about your future together quite a lot, and he really appreciates the moments you open up and let him know where your head is at

he's already decided that he wants to marry you by the time the 6-month reunion party with your companions comes around

and depending on your opinions about it, he'd marry you as soon as he could

and when the time was right, Rolan would propose to you

He knows you very well, so he wouldn't make it a grand occasion if that's something that you wouldn't like (but he absolutely would if it was)

regardless of the scale of his proposal, it would be exceedingly romantic - he's the type to have the whole thing planned out, word for word

he's not even that nervous about it beforehand since it would've been something you both discussed - he didn't have to worry about you saying no

instead, most of his thoughts were taken up by his excitement to finally be asking you

In the moment you say yes, he's practically already thinking about what he's going to cook for you on your 10th wedding anniversary

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

Hi I wanted to tell you that I love how you write! And since the requests for the Headcanons are open I take this opportunity! \ ^ ° ^ / A Headcanons with Leona, Malleus, Azul and Vil who (accidentally) break something dear to MC, something that cannot be replaced with anything else or bought back, because it has a great emotional bond and is a unique thing for MC (from the simple necklace, ring to the music box or whatever you like best), so they have to actually find a way to fix it, because even if MC told them he doesn't care, it was really bad. Sorry for my poor English! I love you a kiss!

Azul Ashengrotto: 

Azul dreaded having to tell you about the accident; as easy as it would be to blame it on Jade and Floyd, it wouldn’t have been very honest. And while Azul doesn’t think his honesty was a defining trait, he always fumbled through his lies with you to the point he might as well just tell the truth. He does try to get it repaired before letting you know about it, hoping to restore it to its previous state by any means necessary. If he doesn’t have to put you through unnecessary heartbreak, than that’s better than just outright telling you the truth right away, right?

Leona Kingscholar: 

Leona can see the hurt written across your face. Your words didn’t match your expression, the smile not reaching your eyes—you must’ve been a fool if you thought you could pull one over on him. Yet he didn’t call it out, knowing his selfishness was the cause, and he kept it to himself without another comforting word. He was the type who preferred actions over words so he began to look into getting your precious item repaired, hoping if he bestowed that upon you (along with a string of other ‘forgive me’ gifts) you’d find it in your heart to accept his (non-spoken) apology.

Malleus Draconia: 

There are many things that crumble like paper when they’re in Malleus’ hands and this accident was from another magical outburst. The concept of this item being more important to you than him, reminding him that you came from another world, he had a moment of weakness where he got too caught up in his thoughts. A simple apology would never work, nor would explaining his thought process, and he could bear to think about how hurt you’d be to know he destroyed something precious to you. After hours of attempts he managed to restore it with magic, explaining to you (with a bit of a smug look, though you don’t know why) that your object was new and improved since it had a piece of his magic in it now as well.

Vil Schoenheit: 

Vil isn’t normally this careless, especially not with others precious objects. He had several things that were very dear to him and he knew he’d be hurt if you fumbled around with them without a care in the world. It wasn’t on purpose but accidents did happen, and this was something that wasn’t so easily repaired. Even Rook had stated it was quite a unique item, and it might be a bit hard to find somewhere that might restore it, but it was worth a try. In the meantime Vil offers a sincere apology, telling you that he planned on making it up to you.

[alexsoenomel]

Chokehold (Sam Winchester x Reader smut)

Request: Hey I don’t know if you’re taking requests but I was reading Adrenlize Me and I had an idea for a part 2? Sam and reader have been getting at it for a bit but this time they finally say “I love you” to each other? Rough smut with a little dash of fluff? 🥰

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Warnings: sexy times and I love you’s, mentions of addiction 

Word count: 2.1k

Note: I apologize for being so slow (school+work+ADHD). Writing this made me realize how single I actually am.

 Enjoy! Like/Reblog or both if you like it! :)

PART 1

Addiction. First, it feels like a warm hug, sucking you in, disguising itself as something familiar, something beautiful, and finally, you feel like you filled that hole in your soul. Then it starts taking, it takes and takes until there is nothing left to take, until you cannot give anymore – until you’re dead. You find out, a little too late, that the warm hug was just a one-way ticket to your inevitable demise.

This started as a deep-seated need but turned into a full-blown addiction sooner than I thought, but the only difference was this was a blissful one, with no reaper waiting for you at the end. It only brought endless pleasure. 

Sam was no better than me. We couldn’t stop ourselves; every touch, every kiss would send us into a euphoric state, and it was better than any drug known to man. 

After our little adventure in Dean’s beloved Baby, we tried to keep our dirty little secret hidden. Sam would come to my room only during the night when he could hear Dean snoring in his room, and even then, we had to be careful since Dean was a light sleeper. He would muffle my moans with his hand whenever he was on top of me, he would sometimes even let me bite his shoulder, but it was impossible to be quiet, especially when we both liked listening to each other come undone. Long story short, Dean found out.

“Good thing you two lovebirds finally got together! The bad thing is now I cannot sleep.” He told us one morning while sipping his black coffee, clearly tired and cranky. 

Lovebirds.

That word was stuck in my brain that day. It still would pop up occasionally. It reminded me that we never labeled our little arrangement. When it happened, we would carry on, pretend like this thing was meaningless, and then we would do it all over again. We would cover every topic under the Sun apart from this one. We completely ignored it, but it was there, just around the corner, something more than just a meaningless hookup. 

Sure, he was able to make my legs shake, make me forget my existence, and his touch would set me on fire every damn time, but the way he would look at me right before I would come, the way we would look at each other…  I knew I was falling for him. 

We were birds of a feather –we connected through art, books, and music. We liked the same things but were far different characters. I was more of a 'Shoot first, ask questions later' kind of girl, like his older brother, and he was far from that. He was my voice of reason when I would let my emotions consume me; he was the one who would tell Dean and me to get our shit together whenever we would jump the gun (and that would often happen because we were both hotheads). We worked perfectly together. 

***

"God, I'm exhausted!" I said and put my bag on the table. 

We just got back from a hunt in Omaha, Nebraska, and it was a wild one. It dragged to no end until we finally ganked the ghost that was killing unfaithful men. I almost got thrown off the balcony, Dean almost got stabbed, and Sam, well he took care of it. Overall, I was just happy the case was over and, that I could sleep in my/Sam's bed. 

"Me too! Gonna hit the hay!" Dean said taking his shoes off. 

"Already? It's only 10 pm." Sam said. On a rare occasion, Dean would sleep early, he was the worst night bird in the flock. For him, 2 am was too early for bed, and mornings started at noon. 

"Sammy, I almost got stabbed today! Yeah, already." Dean said and disappeared into the hallway. 

"Night, Dean!" I said. 

"Night, night!" I heard him say. 

I was immediately hit with the realization that I was alone with Sam. There was something so alluring about him that made me nervous in the best way possible. It would boost my dopamine and adrenaline – like a drug. I swallowed nervously as I turned to see he was staring back at me and I immediately recognized the look – the look of devotion. 

"What?" I asked. He looked tired, with messy hair, and bags under his eyes. I was a tired mess too. During these days caffeine kept me awake and sharp since we were working night and day trying to solve the gruesome mystery. 

"Shower?" He asked.

"Please!" 

We went to his room since I would spend most of my nights there. What started as casual, grew to be a routine. I started hating sleeping alone in cold sheets – his warmth kept me safe. 

When we entered his room, pleasant silence joined us. We stripped down our dirty clothes and sins as we went to the bathroom. We didn’t say a word until warm water touched our tired bodies.

“Warm enough?” Sam asked me.

I nodded. He shampooed my hair, and I did my body while letting my muscles relax under the shower, feeling every part of me slowly shutting down from exhaustion.  Once my hair was nice and cleaned and I turned to face Sam, kissing where his heart was as I balanced myself on my tiptoes since he was much taller than me. 

“My turn?” I asked and got on his knees, like he usually would do when I wanted to wash his hair, and wrapped his hands around my waist, cupping my ass. It wasn’t the first time we showered together, the aftercare was as important for him as it was for me, but this time it felt far more intimate and real. The aftercare would usually turn into rough shower sex, leaving me breathless and sometimes even covered in bruises, but this time I saw true intimacy and meaning of showering together. 

Sam kissed my stomach as I washed his hair, sending light shivers all over my body. His hand went between my legs, and a light moan escaped from my lips. 

“All done!” My voice trembled. Sam stood up and kissed me hungrily. I could never get enough of his kisses, his lips were soft, kisses sweet kinda like cherries in spring, nothing like I’ve ever tasted before. He broke the kiss as our eyes met, water still running down our bodies. I could feel his breath on my lips. The air, even though hot and heavy, got a little bit chilly for a second – or was I getting nervous? I could feel my heartbeat in my throat. I didn’t know why I was getting nervous. Everything that seemed familiar was now foreign to me. Even though we fucked a million times, even though we both had seen each other naked, I was still feeling that tickling sensation in the pit of my stomach. 

Sam turned off the shower. We did our night routine in blissful silence. Skincare, haircare, the whole nine yards…in blissful pleasant silence. Sam even started using my Vitamin C serum, when I told him how good it is for the skin. 

I was pleasantly surprised when he took a little bit of my hydrating cream after the serum. I would always use that after having a rough day on the job, it did wonders for my tired skin. 

“You’re learning,” I told him as I brushed my teeth. 

“From the best.” He simply said. 

***

I didn’t remember the last time I did my night routine in my bathroom – and it all started when Dean caught me leaving his room to get my toothbrush. 

“You two are louder than a jackhammer!” He told me as he opened the door of his room, messy hair, eyes barely open, clearly feeling creaky from lack of sleep…again. “Keep it down, or I swear I’ll kill you both!”

“Sorry!” I was embarrassed but trying hard not to laugh.

Ever since then, I decided not to leave his room during the night. So, naturally, I started leaving my stuff in Sam’s room. 

***

After we got in our pajamas; Sam in his gray sweatpants and me in my oversized blue T-shirt I “borrowed” from him, got under the covers. I could feel my whole body relaxing, as I let my mind drift God knows where…I was ready to fall asleep, but Sam had other plans. He wrapped his hand around my waist pulling me closer to him. His semi-hard cock was pressed against my ass, and I felt his lips on my neck. 

“Yeah, Sammy?” I bit my lower lip. 

“I don’t wanna sleep.” He mumbled between kisses. 

I turned around, missing the softness of his lips on mine. I kissed him, feeling the minty taste on his lips. My hand went in his hair, pulling him closer to me. He moaned when I pulled his locks, sending shivers all over his body. He pushed me back onto the mattress as he climbed on top of me, leaving kisses all over my jaw and neck. I loved his lips on my skin, I loved everything about them; the softness, the taste, the ability to make me wet in seconds… 

“You got me worried today,” Sam whispered between kisses. 

“Sorry, I was a hot-headed dumbass.”

I thought I could take down the ghost by myself. I didn’t stick to the plan and almost got thrown off the balcony when the damn thing attacked me – my mistake.

“Like always.”

And that’s why you love me. I bit my tongue. I felt my walls completely coming down under him. I didn’t care about labels, I didn’t care what we were, I just knew my heart was struggling to stay silent. I wanted to say those words as much as I desperately wanted to hear them from him. 

“Shut up and kiss me!” I told him instead. 

Sam pressed his lips on mine, this time his hand went down my stomach between my legs. His fingers were cold, making my skin shiver, but his touch bought endless pleasure. 

I could feel his two fingers in me for a few seconds before he pulled away. 

“Tease,” I said annoyed. He loved making me beg and feel desperate and I loved every second of it. 

He licked his fingers clean and kissed me letting me have a taste as well. 

“You are delicious.”

Everything about this seemed different. He was sweeter and far more gentle. Usually, he would tell me to be quiet, his good girl, he would be rough, but this time…he wasn’t? He had a gentle side, but I’d rarely see it. I felt something was different. I felt my heart connecting with his and my soul feeling closer to his own. 

“And you’re a tease.” 

He laughed, showing off those cute little dimples I adored so much. 

"Just a little. " He smirked before kissing me again. I was growing impatient, and it was like he heard me. He wasted no time, he moved my panties to the side as I helped him lower his sweatpants. He entered me slowly, letting me adjust to his size, letting me bask in the pleasure his cock was giving me. I buried my fingers into his damp hair, arching my back slightly. 

"You feel so good!" 

He would always tell me that. Every time. No exception. He knew his words made me needy, horny, and desperate…He knew what buttons to push. 

He started to move and that was when my heart decided to work against me…or it did me a favor? My eyes were lost in his, not wanting to break the contract. I was feeling every inch of him, slowly moving in and out, skin to skin….

"I love you!" 

I heard myself say. My heart was pounding, I could see his expression change as his hair was falling on my cheeks…he smiled and kissed me.

"I love you too!" 

I didn't expect this answer from him. At the moment it didn't seem real but I think we both knew it was coming. Between the constant staring, and flirting just to gross out Dean and the genuine connection we had, we knew…

Sam's pace became faster, and I was slowly losing it. His face was inches away from mine, feeling each other's breaths as my climax was getting closer. I could feel my body shaking, my nails digging into his back as I couldn’t get his name out of my mouth. 

“Come on, baby!” He whispered in my ear. 

I loved his voice, I loved his touch, his kiss. I loved him.

I came hard, biting his shoulder (Sam didn’t even flinch), not wanting to be too loud because of Dean and his “Next time I’m gonna kill you both” sentence. 

He kissed me before collapsing next to me. We were both panting, waiting for someone to say something, to break the ice that had already been broken when I told him I love you. But no one did. Instead, we fell asleep, my head on his chest, safe and sound. 

[oftidheard]

🕊 right here in the old therebefore ㅤ⠀lucy gray baird x reader ㅤ⠀↳ 0.7k ↳ fluff with angst ↳ gender neutral

your head is resting against lucy gray's shoulder, both your hands are intertwined with both of hers in a tangle of warm fingertips and desperate grips. not long before now her head had sat in your lap, and before that the two of you had been knee-to-knee with your gazes linked solemnly.

your restlessness — like everything about you — melds inexplicably with lucy gray's own tendency to choose one place to rest and stick with it, she has not once complained about your constant repositioning. she knows you're worried, scared, she is too.

she'd approached you with whispers and a hand cupping your cheek, your foreheads had met and you hadn't realised you were crying until she gently wiped a tear from your cheek. you'd wiped the tears from hers too when you'd found each other in an embrace of finality, one that conveyed you both now knew what faced sweet lucy gray come morning.

now, as the day slowly dawns with slivers of sunlight and mockingjay's songs, you cannot bring yourself to untangle from your lover.

your breath fans across her shoulder, and she tilts her head to rest atop your own comfortingly.

you aren't sure what you want to say beyond the watery sentiments you've already spoken a thousand times over — you can't believe this is happening, you hate mayfair and billy taupe more than you could say, and you'll miss lucy gray even more — so instead, as the light of the sun inches up your ankles through the crack in the door, you mutter.

"the reaping's soon."

lucy gray hums, and squeezes your hands.

"better warm up," she laughs softly, the beginning of an affectionate smile growing on your own face. but the tug of your eyebrows pulling them down does not cease, the circling fear in your gut unchanging.

you lift your head and lucy gray does the same, your eyes meet hers again.

neither of you are smiling, she looks like how she gets after running into billy taupe, or when maude ivory grazes her knee enough to draw blood; when beneath the playful scolding she gets this look in her eyes. she looks like she's between thinking and trying not to think at all, her eyebrows are drawn together almost imperceptibly. that combined with the slightest down-turned lips could simply be passed as a plain old bad mood, but there's a shimmer in her eyes that reminds you just how smart lucy gray is, how strong she is.

there's a resilience inside her battling a sea of overwhelming emotions that threatens to capsize her boat at any moment, but she's the most adept sailor you've ever seen, and she stays afloat.

"don't fight them."

you hold your eyes closed for a moment to guard any more tears from falling. the moment the words leave your mouth both you and lucy gray know that you have already lost something to the reaping, a spark of the fire inside of you, the little kid who'd yell for your lover to put up a fight in the face of being dragged away to her death.

"i don't want them to hurt you," your lip quivers, and she nods.

"i trust you," you whisper, "mayfair's getting what she deserves, and panem will be damn lucky to hear your voice. but i—"

a sob rips from your throat, and lucy gray runs a hand up and down your shoulder while the other strokes your hair.

she whispers reassuringly, "i know. i know."

"please don't resist the peacekeepers, don't get hurt."

she smiles sadly, fighting off her own oncoming tears, "i won't."

her forehead meets yours and both your eyes shut, noses brushing gently through sniffles and ragged breaths.

"i'll sing my song, then i'll be on my merry way."

you chuckle miserably, and lean back to wipe your face tearstained on the back of your sleeve.

you almost say, 'on your way to the capitol', but even through your heartbroken state, you know announcing lucy gray's fate another time will do no one any good.

so you just sit with her for a moment longer, and imagine a world where she comes home a victor and you spend your days watching her perform and waste sunsets by the lake.

hope is dangerous, and will rip your heart in two without a moment's hesitation. but in this liminal space between days, when the moon sets and sun begins to take her place, and the world savours a moment's longer of rest; you let yourself pretend there is a future for you with a lucy gray who is alive and well and safe in district 12.

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Ribs

summary: You're not from the world where the Witcher takes place. So, to stay alive, you stay glued to your witcher - Eskel. Catching feelings for him was bound to happen anyway. Right?

Maybe a tiny, life-threatening encounter with a leshy is just the little push the both of you need.

notes: The title is inspired by the song ‘Ribs’ by Lorde, specifically the lyrics ‘And we’ll never go home again.’ Maybe a little more angsty than you expected, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless!! I tried to combine both asks into one

tagged: @majesticwren @obsessiveformiyatwins @levithestripper @cookielovesbook-akie @lu-in-the-library @sunndust @ghostcatwhiskers (msg me to be added/removed to any!)

masterlist | based on this request

Eskel had been in the middle of a forest when, almost instantaneously, a figure appeared in front of him. Expecting a sorcerer, Eskel felt his hand grip onto his sword. Just in case.

Instead, he was met with a person that looked so utterly lost and afraid that Eskel knew this was something completely out of the ordinary, and no attack. The next thing he noted is that, when looking at his eyes, this person in front of him was utterly confused.

Without a single word being spoken, Eskel knew that you neither knew where you were, or what a Witcher was. Geralt or Vesemir would have asked for an explanation, but Eskel, stupidly emotional as he was (no matter what people thought about emotions and Witchers) felt something tug at his heart.

He could have left you in the forest, to be devoured by wolves or monsters. He could have left you in the next town, to be ripped apart by the people there. He should have, probably. Instead, Eskel took you with him, on the path.

Perhaps, his reasons weren’t entirely selfless. As he got to know you, Eskel became used to your company, your lack of prejudice. Your warmth, so freely given.

The more he taught you about his world, the more you told him about yours, and Eskel knew that. It made him feel better about keeping you with him, but he knew that, regardless, he should not be falling for you.

***

You held onto Eskel as his horse, Scorpion, began the climb towards Kaer Morhen. The fight against the Leshy had been equally terrifying for you and exhausting for him, and you tried to hold him from slumping forwards too much.

“Are you okay?” you asked him quietly. He nodded. “I am, you’re not. Your heart is beating too quickly.” He replied.

“I hate when you do that.” You shuddered. “Makes me feel like you can read my mind.”

Like you can tell my heart beats faster when you look at me.

“I can only hear your heart, and I’m afraid I cannot change anything about that.” Eskel said. “Why are you afraid?”

You sighed. “Just nervous. I’m practically meeting your family and I don’t even know… should I bow? Or curtsy? I don’t even know how to do that.”

Eskel laughed, shaking his head. He turned to look back at you, and you prayed your heart did not beat faster.

“They will like you.” He assured, before clicking his tongue. Scorpion sped up into a trot, and in the distance, you could see the outlines of what had to be Kaer Morhen. Unlike the few other castles you had seen, this one looked a little bit more like the ones back home.

It was almost in ruins.

As Scorpion walked into the courtyard, Eskel slipped off the horse, before helping you. Your feet hadn’t touched the ground since the Leshy. Eskel hadn’t wanted to stop, had insisted on riding to Kaer Morhen, where you would be safe, and you could feel the consequences of that in your legs now.

“Sore?” Eskel asked, and you nodded. He sighed, taking the bag you had slung over your shoulder to sling over his own. He tried to hide the wince, and failed miserably. If you’d asked him to take the bag, he would have refused, and one look at it was enough to confirm your thoughts. Eskel shook his head.

After he had put Scorpion away, he turned to you. A reassuring squeeze of hands from him had the opposite effect for you. His thumb stroked over the small scar on your left hand, one that you had gotten from hurting yourself early into your time on the Continent. Eskel had fixed it up.

You remembered how he had looked up at you, taken his time to soothe such a small injury while his entire thigh had been bandaged with soaked linen at the same time, crimson red. You thought that that was the moment you fell in love.

Eskel cleared his throat, already a few steps away from you, and you jogged to catch up, nervously laughing. As he opened the doors to Kaer Morhen you took a deep breath, rolled back your shoulders, and exhaled.

At the sight of his brothers, Eskel seemed to relax, laughing happily. The others cheered, and a man with white hair, presumably Geralt, got up to hug him. You stayed where you were, a few paces behind Eskel, wringing your hands as you waited for them to notice you.

Your eyes went over the men there. You thought you recognized Lambert, Coen and Vesemir, but the girl sitting at one of the tables made you pause. She couldn’t be older than 16. What was she doing here?

A wolf whistle ripped you from your thoughts, and you wanted to disappear.

“Eskel!” one of the witchers exclaimed teasingly. “Who is this?”

“A friend.” Eskel said. Oh how that stung. “Vesemir, we must speak.”

“Meeting the in-laws already.” Lambert shouted, and a ripple of laughs went through the men present. You made to follow Eskel, but he stopped you.

“You should stay while I speak with him. He may not be open to… what you are.”

Ouch.

You nodded, watching as Eskel, your only anker in this place, slipped away. Now, all eyes were on you, standing in the entrance, so obviously out of place. Even the girl that sat at one of the long tables stared.

Your skin prickled under their stares, and you gave a nervous smile that made you feel like an idiot. “Hello.” You said, your voice coming out rough, the tone weird, second half of it garbled. Good god, why did this always happen to you?

A few greetings were murmured back to you, and to your relief, many of the Witchers in front of you soon turned back to their conversations. You needed to do something. You couldn’t just stand there and look stupid.

Talk to a Witcher or a teenage girl? Witcher or teenage girl. Neither seemed like the lesser evil, both were incredibly fucking scary. But, the teenage girl seemed just as awkwardly alone as you, so you slipped over to her, sitting down on the bench.

“You look shaken.” She said after a few moments.

You laughed dryly, half out of relief, half out of the fact that you were incredibly shaken. The monsters here were terrifying, and that Leshy? You could still see the moment it had snaked a branch around your ankle, pulling you towards it, playing in your mind.

“All credit goes to the Leshy.” You replied. At that, a hush fell over the hall. Had you said something wrong? Witchers and their goddamn hearing.

The one with the white hair, or, probably, Geralt, turned towards you abruptly. “A Leshy?” he asked.

You nodded slowly. “That’s what Eskel said.”

The teenage girl next to you was no help, only shrugging when you looked at her. Geralt did not respond to you, even if his question had been urgent, leaving you dangling on a precipice of anxiety again.

You told them your name to fill the silence, trying to sound casually, pushing in a quick ‘by the way’ at the end. Finally, someone picked up on something you were saying.

“I’m Ciri.” The girl said. “Geralt’s child surprise.”

“That’s how children usually work.” You snorted, which caused some laughter from the people present, and a brooding stare from Geralt. Did he have some kind of stick up his ass?

“We’re not related.” He said, his voice clipped. He stared at you, and you felt like Geralt could see right through you, sniff you out like a dog.

“Then what’s a child surprise?” you asked. Immediately, you wanted to take your question back. You should have reserved that for Eskel, who knew. He would have understood. Instead, you were barked at by the man named Lambert.

“Have you been living under a rock for the past thousand years?” he asked, and you felt yourself crumble on the inside. However, no explanation followed his question, and all you could do was guess.

What the fuck was a child surprise? Did Witchers adopt? Did people sometimes have to pick up kids along the way? Was it a family heirloom type of thing?

You grabbed for the pitcher with ale, grateful when Ciri handed you an empty cup. Still, when you took a sip, you felt your lips purse. No matter how much ale you drank, you’d never get over the taste of it.

As time ticked on, and Eskel still did not return, you could feel worry imbue itself in your gut. Your knee began to bounce, nails digging into the palms of her hands. Most of the Witchers were gone. Geralt had taken Ciri with him, and the ones named Lambert and Coen were sitting in another corner, playing some kind of game and drinking. You felt a shiver go down your spine, and suddenly, you felt utterly alone.

The dress you were wearing had been bought by Eskel, and it was good. It fit well, the color was a beautiful deep blue, and it was comfortable. But it was nothing you’d have worn back home. Quietly, you drew your knees up to your chest.

If you had a clock, you’d have heard it tick, making the passing of time even more obvious.

At the sound of people approaching, you lifted your head from your knees. You’d almost fallen asleep, and the sudden noise had ripped you out of it. There, at the entrance of the hall, stood Eskel, together with Vesemir.

A relieved smile began to spread across your face, before you remembered what Eskel had said. He may not be open to… what you are.

As Vesemir approached you, the feeling in your gut tightened, anxiety making you shiver again. As Vesemir opened his mouth to speak, you saw Eskel behind him, deathly pale, and a feverish coat of sweat covering his forehead.

“You’re not okay.” You said, pushing off the bench and past Vesemir. Scary old Witchers be damned, Eskel wasn’t doing fine.

“Leshy wasn’t uh… a proper Leshy.” Eskel replied. When he took an idle step forward, you slung his uninjured shoulder around yours, ignoring that he was much too heavy for you to actually help.

Vesemir cleared his voice, and you steeled yourself to argue with Eskel’s adoptive father. “I think it better if we continued this on the morrow.” He said, handing you Eskel’s pack. With some effort, you managed to pick it up, pointedly ignoring Eskel’s grunt of protest.

“Anything else?” you asked Vesemir carefully.

“Make sure he gets his rest, stubborn as he is.” He replied. “Wake the entire keep if something’s wrong.”

You nodded, forcing yourself to swallow your fear.

Even in his delirium, Eskel helped you, directing you towards a small room. With the few skills you’d picked up from him, you managed to stoke the flames in the fireplace, lighting the candle next to the small cot with it. Searching through the pack, you picked out a blanket, preparing to get comfortable in the chair.

As you heard the bed creak behind you, you whirled around.

“Where am I?” Eskel asked you, looking utterly lost.

You sighed, sitting down on the bed next to him. “Kaer Morhen. You…”

“The Leshy?” Eskel asked. That much was just… gone?

“Dead. Really dead, you made sure. With fire, I think and… lots of stabbing.” You replied, and Eskel gave a weak smile. He made to get up, immediately gritting his teeth against the pain, and you stopped him gently.

“You’re taking the bed tonight, no arguments this time. Vesemir’s orders.” You said firmly.

Eskel’s brows drew together. “You met Vesemir?” he asked.

“Not really.” You shrugged. “We were both too concerned about you to talk about me. But he didn’t try to kill me, so there’s that.”

Eskel gave an exhausted laugh, grunting in pain as the bandages tugged on his wounds. “Your heart is… faster.” He said, and you rolled your eyes.

“Stressful day.” You lied.

He nodded, too tired to insist on sleeping on the floor. For once, you were glad for it, not having to fight over whether or not he would take the bed and you the floor (he never let you, insisting that Witchers didn’t need sleep anyway).

***

Your neck was stiff when you woke up the next morning, and it took some effort to push yourself out of your chair. Eskel had sat up at the end of his bed, looking at you tiredly.

“Morning.” You said, your mouth sticky from sleep. You grabbed the pitcher from the bedside, taking a sip of water.

“You slept on the floor.” Eskel noted. “Never wanted you to.”

“It’s not a big deal. You’re looking better, that’s all that matters.” You shrugged, but Eskel only shook his head, pulling at his shirt. You turned away, giving him some privacy. Instead, you rummaged in your pack, looking for the potion he’d need.

“I wanted you to always be comfortable.” He said. You paused, trying not to overthink his words. The potion in your hand felt uncharacteristically cold. Keeping your eyes peeled to the ground, you set it down next to Eskel.

“I always was comfortable. I only have a stiff neck.” You replied. Eskel moved behind you, his hands already beginning to work the knots out of your muscles. You reached up to stop him.

“Eskel, I appreciate it, I really do, but you need to take care pf yourself.” You said firmly. When you looked at him, he had an expression of rejection on his face. Immediately, you regretted your words.

“I’m sorry, I only meant-“ you began.

Eskel interrupted you. “Yeah, I know. You want me to make sure I’m alright. But…” he trailed off. “I want to take care of you.”

There wasn’t a world where you wouldn’t have mulled over his words, hoping that there was more meaning to them. And so, you took his hands into yours, smiling at him nervously.

“Thank you, Eskel. That means the world to me.”

“Yours or mine?” he joked, and you felt yourself smile at his stupid joke.

“Both.”

Eskel paused at that, and immediately, you felt stupid for blurting it out. His hands held yours a little tighter, and a knot formed in your throat. There was a small part of you that was hoping, not just that you hadn’t said anything wrong, but that he would reply to this what you wanted him to say.

Instead, Eskel dropped your hands, turning back to the bed and making it mechanically. You missed the blush on his face entirely.

In the afternoon, you took care of Scorpion, watching as Ciri trained in the yard by herself, a frustrated expression on her face. After a while, you led Scorpion into the stables, walking back out into the yard, and smiling at Ciri. She gave you a strained smile back, and you noticed the irritated skin on her hand.

“Eskel wraps his sword grips with fabric to make them more comfortable in winter.” You told her, nodding at her reddened hand.

“My grandmother never needed any of that.” Ciri only barked out.

“Well, maybe she didn’t have dry skin.” You replied, and Ciri stuck her sword into the snow a little more aggressively than necessary.

“What are you training for?” you asked, idly twisting on a bracelet Eskel had gifted you once.

“I want to be as good as Geralt.” She replied.

“He’s very good, from what I hear.” You said. “But I think you need to take a rest as well. You’re neither a witcher, nor a man. Not that that’s a bad thing. Enough rest will make you better.”

Ciri sighed, handing you the sword. “Could you help me with the grip?”

You nodded, tucking it under your arm and walking towards the dining hall with Ciri.

“So… you and Eskel?” Ciri asked after a while. You almost tripped, regaining your composure quickly.

“No, we’re only friends.” You replied. “We just spend a lot of time together, like you and Geralt.”

Ciri scrunched up her nose in disgust. “I’d hope not. We don’t look at each other like lovesick idiots.”

You almost scoffed indignantly. “We do not look at each other like lovesick idiots. I also doubt that Eskel is in any capacity in love with me.”

“So you are in love with him?” Ciri asked.

Fucking teenage girls.

You didn’t reply to that, and Ciri’s smile widened. “Don’t even think about saying anything.” You bit out. “I just helped you with dry hands.”

Ciri rolled her eyes. “Can I tell Geralt? He’ll give Eskel a kick. You know, he firmly believes that you’re the one not in love. If he finds this out… he’ll have a field day.”

You buried your face in your hands. “He doesn’t talk much, does he?”

“Apart from the occasional grunt, no.” Ciri replied, not that that was much of a reassurance. You knew she was probably still going to spill your best kept secret to Geralt.

“Only Geralt. No one else.” You assented, and Ciri skipped away, leaving you with her sword. Sighing, you dragged yourself up crumbling stone stairs and into your room. Eskel had gotten it ready for you while you’d been out taking care of Scorpion. It felt strange to have one to yourself again after so long. Still, it turned out you didn’t have to be alone for long.

Only a few minutes later, Eskel knocked on your door, carefully checking in on you. You knew it was silly, but it was the things like this that made your heart flutter each time.

“How’s your shoulder?” you asked, setting down Ciri’s sword.

“Better.” Eskel said. He noticed the sword with a confused smile. “Are you training? You should’ve told me.”

“Oh no, I was just helping Ciri. Her hands are too dry because of the cold, kind of how yours get sometimes.”

“You remembered that?” Eskel asked.

“Yeah of course. Why wouldn’t I?” you replied, smiling at him.

“I’m in love with you.” Eskel said quietly, then. Your heart stopped for a good second. You stared, blankly, trying to comprehend what Eskel had just said. He paled at your silence, already beginning to back out of your room, but you quickly grabbed his hand.

“I- Me too. I am in love with you too, is what I’m trying to say. I didn’t realise that wrapping a sword would be what it takes to hear it but I really, really, really like you. A lot.” You rambled. “I mean, you’re sweet, and caring, and-“

Eskel stepped forward, hands that were made to kill gently cradling your jaw. He hesitated, eyes asking for permission. When your hands steadied themselves on his chest, he closed the bridge between you, his lips softly meeting yours. You sighed into the kiss, deepening it impatiently until your hands tangled in Eskel’s hair.

After a while, you broke the kiss, heart racing in your chest.

Eskel noticed. “Your heart is…”

“It’s fast, I know. Most of the times you pointed it out, it was because of you.” You confessed. His eyes widened.

“Since… Since I fixed up your hand?” Eskel asked with sudden realisation, and you nodded. He gave you a small smile.

“We’re such idiots.” You laughed, and Eskel joined you. The sound of it was so beautiful you could not help kissing him again.

[witchspeka]

I dont think Mob is naive as much as he's socially unaware, like the reason why he trusts Reigen so blindly is a bit more complex than just him being naive

Cause Mob reached out to Reigen because he was desperate to find someone like him, someone who understood his psychic specific issues, someone that could truly know what he's feeling and going through and give him guidance and support

Post incident Mob's thinking process was something along the lines of my powers hurt people -> my powers are bad -> my powers (my emotions, my instincts, myself) cannot be trusted

So he lost all confidence and trust in his own actions, resigning to being as passive as possible to avoid any further damage to anyone else, thus he started doubting his own perception of reality too

He's a kid already struggling with being ostracised for being socially inept, who just got traumatised and all of his insecurity increased by the tenfold, he doesn't know how to process what he's going through. He needs help.

And here comes Reigen, seemingly reliable, a responsible adult in a child's eyes, someone who claims he can understand him

Even tho Reigen doesnt. But it doesn't matter, because Mob finds comfort in his words and takes them to heart

Even if Reigen doesn't fully get it, even if he doesn't see the bigger picture, even if his advice isn't always the best

Eventually, Mob grows up, realises Reigen isn't as honest as he seemed through his 11 year old perspective, but like most things, he refuses to acknowledge it on a deeper level

Mob knows, but never tells Reigen, never thinks about what all those lies mean to him (ofc until he forces himself to face those doubts regarding Reigen, to properly acknowledge both of their flaws and accept them as they are, I should scream into the void about Confession Arc more God)

Due to his lack of trust in himself, Mob has relied on Reigen for years now to shape his moral compass, his thoughts, his decisions

Because well, Reigen lies, sure, but he isnt a bad person. When he hurts Mob, it isn't intentional or with ill intent, he still wants the best for him, what's the issue?

Except that it stunts Mob's growth. He doesn't develop as a person, doesn't have goals or wishes or ambitions, can't make choices on his own, he doesn't even let himself acknowledge his own emotions, he refuses to let himself exist

But Mob realises in time that he wants more than that, he wants to become better and be independent and feel again

Still, he puts the acknowledgement of the lies on hold for as long as he can, unwilling to question the way things are

This can make him feel a little naive, he constantly relies on Reigen and trusts his decisions and raises questions rarely until separation arc when he finally puts his foot down

And I do think that moment is the most resounding proof we have that Mob knows and allows himself to be used by Reigen, not wanting to shake the status quo, until he gets fed up

I mentioned the social ineptitude at the beggining but idk if I should even elaborate on that, you've watched the show, you know what I mean

He's blunt and can't read social cues or tonality that well and can't speak in front of crowds and is overall pretty awkward and I do think some people conflate that with naivety

Mob is still a child, he doesnt fully understand how the world works at the ripe age of 14 years old, but some folks take that as him being inherently naive/innocent/whatever which I don't find true

[friendsoup]

Could I perhaps request Dikke/Tennant with a reader who’s overly emotional/burnt out and cries a lot? (Currently happening to me and they’re like my comfort characters) thank you in advance 🫶🏻

Your Strength

Recipe: Dikke's can be read as romantic or platonic, Tennant's can be platonic if you squint, GN! Reader, Reader is called beautiful (many times), my dove and love, Both Tennant and Dikke are bad with genuine emotions, But they both Really Really care about You, Comfort fic, Shamelessly Indulgent WC: 1,998 (SO CLOSE) Chef's Note: AHHH I tried to get to this one as quickly as I could!!! I hope it's in time to make you feel better, anon :[!!!! Hopefully my work can brighten your day, at least a little bit :]! As always, thank you for the request!

Dikke has never been “in tune” with her emotions. Emotions were something strange and distant to her, they came and went as they pleased, leaving her feeling empty in their absence. To some, she came across as apathetic. That wasn’t exactly true, though. Her emotions simply never reached her face, despite how fiercely they roared in her chest. She could never quite tell how she was feeling. Though she could list symptoms of an emotion, she was never quite able to put a name to it, no matter how hard she tried.

The emotions of others were worse. She knew the basics. A frown meant sadness, a raised voice meant anger. But human emotion had so many intricate working pieces, an entire depth to them she couldn’t begin to understand. Sometimes a frown was meant jokingly. Sometimes a raised voice meant excitement. These little things made Dikke’s head spin.

So when you came into her room, and curled yourself into a ball on her bed, she didn’t know what to do.

The two of you had been seeing each other for quite some time now. Dikke didn’t put any labels on the relationship, and you didn’t mind that as long as you could keep her company. She was a strong shoulder to cry on, and though she was hesitant and awkward with your crying fits, you could always tell she cared.

Initially, Dikke didn’t look up from her blade. You entering her room was not a special event, you did this often regardless of how you felt. She greeted you, then continued to polish her sword, her eyes transfixed on it’s silver gleam. 

When you didn’t respond, a pang of worry hit her. Even at your worst, you always managed to mutter a hello.

She spoke your name softly, turning to you to gauge a reaction. When you did not move from your spot on the bed, her heart began to race. What had happened to you? Were you okay? Had she done something wrong? Had someone hurt you?

She spoke your name again, louder this time, worry dripping from her voice. 

Again, you did not respond.

Dikke put her blade down, discarding it on her desk without much thought. Her mind could not comprehend anything other than panicked thoughts about you. She stood, cautiously moving over to where you sat. 

She didn’t know what to do. Emotions were something so vague and strange to her. It killed her inside, but she knew she wasn’t best suited for the job. She was a hero of justice, meant to serve harsh judgements. She was never meant to be soft or kind or comforting. It wasn’t in her nature.

Hesitantly, Dikke reached out a hand, placing it on your shoulder. You shook beneath her touch, fighting back every emotion in your body. Dikke gave your shoulder a squeeze, as other knights had once done for her. 

“I’m no poet.” Dikke began, slowly scooching towards you. “I cannot sing you ballads of your beauty, nor write sonnets declaring my love.” She was sitting shoulder to shoulder with you now, her hand still resting on your arm. “I could try, if that’s what you wanted, but my voice was not built for anything but battle cries, and my rhymes would all come across as cheap.” When her words gained no reaction, she sighed. Usually, her attempts at jokes gained some sort of smile from you. “But, as a soldier, I can tell you how strong you are.” Her gaze settles on something far in the distance, her shoulders sinking, as if under some heavy weight. “I have seen only a fraction of the things you battle. I know only what you’ve shared with me, and the things we have fought together. Some, you will tell me with time. Others, I will never know.” “And that is fine. I do not need to know the extent of your war to know the strength of your character. I have seen great men fall to what you are fighting. Their minds unable to handle the stress their heart gives. You hold so much love, that it is painful to keep it all in your chest.” You lift your head, trying to form some sort of argument, but Dikke does not leave room for an answer. “Your love takes different forms,” She tells you, “Grief, guilt, anger. You torture yourself with the burdens of others. You try to carry the weight of the world, then grow frustrated when your shoulders grow sore, and your legs weak. You are not Atlas, my dove.” Her eyes flutter over to you, catching yours. “Some things are out of your control. Some things, you do not have to carry.”

“...But I do.” You argue, the words coming out too quick. “If I don’t care, nobody will. I need to prove myself worthy.” You sputter. Warm tears race quickly from the corners of your eyes, staining your cheeks.

“Worthy of what?” Dikke asks, her eyebrows drawn up in concern. “Of life. Of love. Of everything I’ve been given.” You can’t control your sobs now, they escape your lips, leaving you shuttering. “I need to make up for the fact that I exist.”

In one swift movement, Dikke pulls you to her lap. She wraps her arms around you, and you can feel her strength in her embrace. She doesn’t squeeze you hard, just enough to provide pressure. You can tell she’s holding back, as if worried she’ll break you.

“Please don’t say such cruel things to the person I love.” She begged, burying her face in your hair. “Please, be kind to them.” You were unable to say anything now, clinging onto Dikke with an intense desperation. You sobbed into her, unable to pull yourself together again. It was as if something inside you had broken, and now everything was pouring out. For so long you’d managed to keep yourself upright, yet Dikke had managed to destroy any wall you’d put up around yourself.

The two of you stayed there, tangled in each other for an hour. You, crying, and Dikke, muttering lovely words into your ear. Eventually, you grew tired, and fell asleep in her arms. Dikke was exhausted as well, yet she didn’t want to let go of you just yet.

Collapsing onto her bed, she cuddled into you, holding you tighter than she’d ever had before.

Your Beauty

“Genuine” had never been Tennant’s style.

She was a conwoman, who always got what she wanted from her clients. She used any tactic necessary to reach into their pockets. She’d been a lover, a mother, a friend, and an advisor to a wide variety of people. Never did she mean a word she said. It was all a game to her, her prize being the end goal. She didn’t care how she won it, in the end. As long as it was hers.

If you had been another noble lady, appearing on her doorstep in tears, she would have whisked you inside and poured you a glass of red wine. She would listen to your woes, but no matter their contents, she’d have the same solution. Treat yourself with diamonds, wear something nice to fight off the sadness. Show him how much you’re really worth by donning something shiny and expensive. By the end of the night, you would have been under her spell, and deep in her debt. But you were far from a noble lady.

Tennant had no idea how to act around you. She’d been a conning for so long, she forgot how to forge a connection with another human being. So, she treated you the only way she knew how. Soft flirting and batting eyelashes, wrapping you in her arms, but never staying long. The only difference between you and a client, is that she kept her free hand out of your wallet.

So when you showed up on her doorstep in tears, she had no idea what to do. Her mind instantly went to how she could bend the situation to gain your trust, which she hated, as she wasn’t trying to earn anything from you. Yet she didn’t know how to act in anyone else’s benefit. She was completely lost, trying to find some small glimpse of humanity in her heart.

She spoke your name once, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. Her touch was light, almost as if she was afraid, as she gently pushed you into her room. “What happened?” She asked, casually. You took a seat on her couch, trying your hardest to muster any words. “It’s so much…” Was all you could say, between choking on sobs and sputters.

Tennant hummed, putting a kettle on heat. As long as she had something to do with her hands, she figured, you wouldn’t see how nervous she really was.

“I’m making tea.” She told you, no question if you wanted it or not. “I’ll make it sweet, for you.” She winked towards your direction.

When her flirt made no difference in your behavior, she grimaced. It was the only thing she knew how to do in this situation. How else was she supposed to get across that she wanted you to be okay? The two of you sat in relative silence. Her, fidgeting with the tea. And you, sobbing on the couch. Eventually, the kettle sang, and Tennant made a glass for both you and herself. Forcing a smirk back onto her lips.

She placed the tea cup down in front of you, and began to drink from her own. The warm cup bringing some comfort during this uneasy interaction. You sniffled, trying to pull back your tears for long enough to drink. When you managed through a shaky breath, you picked up the cup and began to drink. Tennant was right, she did make the tea sweet for you. It was the perfect amount, however. Not enough to rot your teeth, but enough to taste nice. The tea warmed the both of you, making it easy to find some tranquility. When you’d both finished your cups, the two of you sat there, unable to find any words.

You sniffled again, rubbing your sleeve over your nose. You were out of breath, your eyes red with tears, and your entire body shaking with emotional exhaustion. Tennant watched you, observing you closely. This was a private moment, she realized with great alarm. You did not show this face to just anyone. This was you at your lowest, at your most emotional. You were showing her something special, these were not just some pretty tears in order to gain sympathy. 

“You’re beautiful.” She said, without realizing the words were escaping her lips. Her eyes were wide, watching you with great admiration. 

“Right now?” You questioned. “I highly doubt it.” You almost laughed, confused by her sudden change in demeanor.

“Are you kidding?” Tennant spoke, suddenly breathless. “This is the most beautiful I’ve ever seen you.” Your face grew hot at the attention, as you focused on fidgeting with your hands. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” You argued. 

Tennant shook her head, reaching forward for your cheek. She guided it gently, until the two of you were locking eyes. “Right now, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. More than diamonds, more than gold. You are a work of art, brilliant and bold. You are something to be marveled at.” “You have me at a loss. I don’t know if I want to keep this expression all for myself, or display your true beauty to the world.” Tennant’s gaze was so intense, you felt yourself melting underneath it. “Your tears are worth diamonds, I can only imagine what worth a genuine smile from your lips would bring.”

You looked away, the ends of your lips quirking up from the compliments. Tennant gasped, dragging a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Better than I could have ever imagined. Priceless.” She whispered.

[the-marshals-wife]

Keep Me Close (Tech x Reader)

*BELOW THE CUT THERE ARE SPOILERS FOR S2 EP 8: TRUTH AND CONSEQUENCES*

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day, babes! I'm hitting two mynocks with one stone: writing something short and sweet for my favorite Batcher and processing my emotions over [redacted].

Description: Tech x Fem!Reader Batcher, semi-established relationship (there's an unspoken thing *wink*) | Warnings: none, hurt+comfort fluff | Word count: 804

★ Bad Batch Tag List ★ @dantes-devil-huntress @sageislostinspring @sweetheart-bo (comment to be added!)

Gif credit: user dreamswithghosts

Imagine being unable to sleep, upset by Echo's departure, and turning to Tech for comfort

The ship was stuffy. Your mind was full. The future was uncertain. It was the perfect mixture of reasons to be restless.

You'd removed the top half of your blacks and tied it around your waist, putting on a tank top in hopes of cooling down. Sitting on the lowered ramp of The Marauder, you stared into the misty night sky, feeling trapped by the stale silence. Your eyes began to sting, emotions starting to overcome you. How could so much have changed so quickly?

The sound of footsteps pulled you from your troubled thoughts, and you didn't have to turn around to know who approached. The rapid tapping of gloved fingers on a datapad was enough for you to recognize him.

"You are unable to sleep," Tech says.

It wasn't a question. He'd just stated it as a fact, as he did with most things.

"Not really," you answer, quickly wiping at your eyes.

"I suspect there is a reason," he begins, sitting down beside you, "Would it ease your mind if you shared your concerns with me?"

Your heart skipped at the prospect, and at how near he was.

"I'll be alright, really," you hesitate, trying to compose yourself.

"The tension in your voice and your constrained body language suggests otherwise," he replies, putting away his datapad.

You can't help but chuckle, "Nothing gets past you, does it?"

"Not really," he parrots your words. He removes his helmet and puts it aside. You're surprised to see he's smiling ever-so-slightly.

You sigh, trying put your many thoughts into words. "We've all lost so much. After all our fighting and all our running, sometimes I've wondered what it was all for. But I thought as long as we stayed together, things would be alright. We would figure it out because together we had hope. Now, I'm afraid that we've lost it."

Tech pushes up his goggles before responding.

"I know it may seem that way, but Echo did not leave because he had no hope," he offers, "He believes that there are better ways apart from this squad that he can help preserve hope, and if he is successful, pass it on to others."

"I thought we were already doing that," you reply, shaking your head, "I know we have to be careful, especially for Omega's sake, and we can't fight The Empire the same way others can, but I thought we were making some kind of difference."

"Echo's departure does not necessarily signify failure in our pursuits."

"But aren't we stronger together than apart?" you ask, looking to him.

Tech blinks slowly, visibly weighing your question. Surely he is bothered by all this too?

"Theoretically, yes. But our objections cannot change what has happened," he admits.

Your gaze falls back to your boots, shame setting in. How selfish you must sound. "You're right. I don't think less of Echo. Truly I don't," you say, holding your arms, "I just don't want to lose this squad, and I really don't want to lose..."

You were desperate to say it, but the word caught in your throat. Tears threaten to return. This is not how it was supposed to go. Squeezing your eyes shut, you bow your head, hoping he wouldn't see your entire façade crumbling.

You nearly jump as you feel his hand gently clasp your shoulder. You look up to see his soft brown eyes, full of warmth and understanding.

"I do not have plans to go any place where you cannot also be," he affirms, "And I intend to never make such plans."

A tear slips down your cheek as you choke back a sob. Whatever was left of your composure, he'd just destroyed it, and somehow it was the push you needed.

You lean over to rest your head on his chest. You hold your breath as you feel him tense up at the contact. Fear washes over you that you've gone too far, and you're about to sit up, but then he carefully wraps his arm around you, holding you close.

You purse your lips, trying not to grin. How long you had waited for this moment. Heart racing, you close your eyes and wish for time to stop. So many words had passed between you over the months, but now you could barely speak.

"Tech?" you breathe.

"Yes?"

"I never want to make those kinds of plans either," you say, relaxing into him more.

"It's settled then," he confirms, proceeding to rest his chin upon the top of your head.

It was settled. You knew with absolute certainty that this is where you wanted to be. You were stronger together, and no matter what became of the galaxy, together you and Tech would stay.

[oblique-lane]

Sniper tf2 mentality

Today I will be talking about Sniper's personality because I often see people portraying him DRASTICALLY different abd I wanted to understand what's going on and why all of the interpretations are correct (in my opinion)

Let's name the most prominent thesises:

Sniper is shy and introverted.

Sniper is unhinged and bloodlusty and is annoyed by people.

Why do i think that these aren't exactly contradictory?

I think at this point it's safe to assume Sniper is autistic (I mean lol this is easier to prove than to disprove). As an autistic person myself, I can see why he could be perceived like that.

Sniper doesn't talk to people and mostly observes them and the situation. Very in tune with his profession. That, however, might be perceived as being shy or very introverted or both. People love talking and expect others to share information, yet Sniper never says half of the things he's thinking about.

But let me tell you, it's NOT because he's shy. If he was shy, it would show in his body language as being stiff and rigid. He's not. His body is pretty relaxed and takes enough space. Still crosses his arms, but in a "don't bother me" way, not a "please don't judge me" way.

He's just disinterested.

I relate to it a lot in real life! People at my job think I'm too shy to talk to them, but no, I just DON'T WANT TO. I'm not scared of any if you, there's just nothing to talk about. I don't know your business, you don't know mine, our interests don't collide. If I talked to you about my interests you wouldn't listen anyway. Small talk? Ew, are y kidding me?

However, I like to listen. I'm an extrovert personally (unexpected huh) so I love being around people, but it doesn't mean I have to takk to them. I'll just sponge the information they are babbling about so I know my community better. When I meet new group of people where everyone knows eachother but me, I'm not going to feel awkward, it's perfectly fine to observe.

Sniper seems to fit into this kind of behaviour too. So he's not shy in a social anxiety sense".

NOW LET'S TALK ABOUT THE BLOODLUST!!

Yeah you all know his in-game voicelines. You feel either horny or assaulted after he rolls these sadistic words on his tongue. Yes I said sadistic, are you gonna argue?

"We professionals don't give speeches we just take a shot" he says in the comics. OH YEAH? IS THAT WHY YOU HAVE THE MOST FUCKING VOICELINES OF ALL OF THEM??

Have you ever noticed how much attention he puts into saying how 'professional' he is? Like, yeah no shit, they all kinda are. But why, unlike other mercs, he insists on calling himself a professional with standards and morals, detached from emotions and feelings, so much???

There's literally no reason to be ashamed of being a killer and to admit that you enjoy killing people, you were hired to Mann Co. for that specifically!!!

My assumption: it's a personal disgust towards himself and his anger issues. I've said it before already and I will again.

His so called 'shadow side' that he suppresses so much. It loves to cause people pain, it loves releasing the inner anger, it is being feral and impulsive in nature. Sniper cannot let himself be like that for whatever reason. He's already built a clear picture of what he is in his head and he doesn't want to destroy that.

The only time he allows himself to be a monster is in the battle because it comes naturally. However, when it's not a situation of adrenaline rush, when people want to talk about his persona face to face, he starts to defend himself and bury his face under the lies he believes in.

And THIS is anxiety. To be scared to be truly perceived. Not like many people tried, but I assume he wouldn't like it.

Bro really thinks he doesn't have feelings lmaoooo imagine being so emotionally immature the only way to process your emotions is to shot a human dead.

So, is Sniper anxious? Yes. Is this social anxiety? No, he's not shy. Is he an unhinged murderer? Yes. Does he identify as one? No. It's really a little bit more complicated than the two thesises from the beginning.

He's a person. Obviously not mentally healthy. High dimensional. Can be potentially broken or healed in terms of a good character study.

I might be very wrong though and most of the assumptions are simply guessing by grasping the patterns, but usually when I analyze someone like thus, it turns out mostly right. But correct me if you feel like it.

[seungminsbaldspot]

Valentine’s Day With Jay

Pairing: Jay x reader

Word Count: i literally cannot remember but it’s LESS THAN 500

Genre: valentine’s day special

Warnings: established but recent relationship ; No pronouns used ; TW eating ; Use of Babe (only once)

Author’s note: i wasnt gonna post any for feb but i had some extra time today

“Yeah, I’m about to leave my house!” Jay says to you on the phone, Your smile couldn’t possibly get bigger. “You’re fine Jay! Please be careful!” He makes a noise of acknowledgment and says his goodbyes and I love yous, and the the two of you hang up.

As Jay heads out, you can't help but feel a mix of emotions—anticipation, happiness, and a touch of nervousness. The thought of spending this romantic day together fills you with warmth. It was your first Valentine’s Day together as a couple.

The two of you decided that you would cook dinner and Jay would handle the dessert. You weren't sure of Jay’s baking abilities, but you hoped that he didn't burn it. You decided to make pasta for tonight.

As you put the finishing touches on your surprise, you can't help but glance at the clock, eagerly anticipating Jay's return. The excitement builds, and you can't wait to see the smile on his face when he discovers the effort you've put into making this Valentine's Day special.

You hear knocks at your door. You rush off opening the door to see a sad-looking Jay. “What's the matter?” You immediately say, noticing his pout. “The cake…” He says, looking down. Jay is holding a box that clearly has red and pink icing smeared all over it. “Oh no…babe…. what happened??”

Your heart sinks as you see Jay looking disappointed with the smeared cake box. Concerned, you invite him inside and gently ask him to explain what happened. Jay sighs, "I wanted to surprise you with a heart-shaped cake, but it didn't survive the journey. I guess I didn't handle it well."

You offer a reassuring smile, putting your hand on his shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. The thought and effort mean the world to me. We can still enjoy it together, even if it's a bit messy." You lead him to the kitchen, where he placed the box on your counter.

As you open the box, you both share a chuckle at the cake's misfortune. The smeared frosting may not be picture-perfect, but the sentiment behind the gesture makes it even more endearing. You grab a couple of forks and decide to taste the cake together.

Surrounded by the imperfect sweetness of the cake, you realize that this unexpected twist has added a unique touch to your first Valentine's Day celebration.

With a smile, you say, "Thank you for the sweet surprise, Jay. It's perfect to me, no matter how it looks." The two of you sit down, enjoying the imperfect but delicious cake, and the evening takes a turn for the better as you appreciate the genuine effort Jay put into making this day special.

taglist: @todorokikettlephobia @multi-fandomposts

[maevearcher]

...um, okay, so, @pennyblossom-meta, here is part one of my two cents. I...I actually decided to peruse the manga again, so I'd pay more attention to specific things instead of...just living it over and over again, and beyond... So, I've decided to split things into parts, so it doesn't get insanely long either. This first part covers up to the point where Misa introduces herself to Light.

…I never know how or where to start these things….

First things first, I want to be clear on the fact that this, everything that I’m going to say, comes from the perspective that I’ve held true to my core values over as many years as I remember, ever since I learned how to read, namely that the book is better and truer that the movie. That the original written word is the baseline truth on which I must build any interpretation that will not result in me falsifying the very essence of what I’m trying to understand.

On that assumption, in any analysis of the character of L, I always, but always refer back to the manga, with the anime serving as completion of details here and there, with the anime giving me the absolutely exquisite feel of actually hearing him (and for me, the English dub is the best, I love Alessandro Juliani’s low, vocal fry-ish rendition, I love his harsh tones here and there, which I find most fitting for the particular manga scenes they are constructed upon.

It is true that anime and musical and whatnot paint a much more….humanized, softened picture of L A rounder, more sympathetic, more socially palatable picture. An image of this lonely autistic genious, locked inside the confines of his ways, waiting for the right person to come along and save him from the banes of his solitary existence…until he meets Light and realizes there’s someone out there who he can relate to, for understanding and stuff. I personally don’t buy too much into that.

I am not going to debate too much whether or not he’s autistic, because I cannot presume to understand that kind of a mind, that kind of an IQ, and the emotional development losses that come with it (because nature doesn’t make presents, almost always a high IQ comes with a lower EQ, grain of salt added). However, I can see neurodivergent traits, such as preference for low-stimulation environments, perhaps sensory sensitivity (such as preference for one particular type of fabric or comfort in clothing style…. – or perhaps he simply can’t be bothered with style choices and all, and tee and jeans seem like a safe perpetual go-to option)….but these have been analyzed to death.

As for the Ryuzaki persona theory….from what I’ve read and from what evidence I can put together, I find it only partially correct. Excluding the autorial intent (or rather, lack of) from the equation, going completely in-universe and treating fiction as reality….it is true that he acts differently when he is alone, prior to meeting the task force. He stands up straight and sits differently, he even does yoga and meditation to think. But later he slips into this total weirdo of a person…but I think this is highly intentional. I mean, he doesn’t fake his personality when interacting with the task force, he blatantly exaggerates some behaviors, with the purpose of being underestimated, as well as to cover some of his tracks, which people can chalk off to him just being a weirdo. Another thing….I think he has a waaay better understanding of social norms and regulations than people usually give him credit for. I mean, he is not socially awkward, that would amount to making involuntary mistakes out of genuine ignorance of social norms, because one cannot figure out the appropriate response. However, I cannot see him doing that. He is blunt and sarcastic and mean because he’s sort of a jerk when he wants to be… and he has little reason to be otherwise in the little slice of his life we are shown.  

What I believe he truly struggles with is an understanding of emotions  apart from their motivational aspect. We always see him having a very fine understanding of behavior, but he’s always, always asking “why? what are they hoping to achieve? what are they after? what is their purpose?....”  I don’t think he has ever been confronted with the possibility of having someone be kind, nice, affectionate towards him for the simple enjoyment of his company, without being out to get him, or get something from him. He sees people either as neutral entities, or as people who either will hurt him or will use him.  (And I would soo much like to see more of his life outside this particular situation when adrenaline is through the roof both from the chase, the thrill of the game, and from the fact that he is , in fact, in very real mortal danger, much more so than the relatively risk-less situations he has been in in his previous cases.)

What he comes across at first is…extremely self assured, to the point of egomaniac from the point of view of a normal person. But…he HAS to be this way in order to do what he does, he has to over-believe in himself because if he were to second guess himself and waver, he would have self destructed years ago.  At first, he acts  from this higher ground vantage point, allowing himself to even show Light that he was unsure about the action plan, during the initial televised confrontation (how he was like “I…I don’t believe it…I couldn’t believe it until I saw it with my own eyes…”) Then, his choice of words, how he is always using his pronouns well (“Listen to me” instead of just “Listen”, “I want you to…” instead of “Please do…”) he is very assertive about his position of authority.

What I also love is that he’s sooo expressive through body language, especially frustration (fist slam to the floor, clenching fist, gritting his teeth in frustration, throws the stack of papers on the floor, especially before meeting the task force, when he can actually afford such transparency). That fades a little bit later, and is only apparent in him gripping his knees a little more forcefully and (what I imagine, with the help of the voice dub in the anime) slightly colder and more distinnctly pronounced words, these being the ways of conveying. frustration and anger.

However, that’s not the only emotion he is expressing. He is caring and considerate. He refers to the FBI agents as “precious lives”. He acknowledges the integrity of Soichiro Yagami (a man who earns L’s respect and keeps it throughout….)  and allows him the privacy of secrecy over the surveillance footage from his home (and again, as my only concession to the anime, the warmth in his tone when he allowed him this privacy…). He repays transparency with  sincerity - he tells Soichiro that the surveillance period of seven days will not be extended secretly, telling him that he has his word on this…. And you can feel the honesty radiating from him at this point, he's never being a jerk for the sheer hell of it, in a completely undeserved fashion. One can argue about the way he belittles Matsuda, but let’s not forget Matsuda screwed up majorly a few times, and I for one would have been harsher on him than L was, so…. Besides, I do think, as  I said in a previous post, that L actually came to like Matsuda  and was affectionately cruel towards him the way you make life hell for a younger sibling. Which in turn proves (a manner of) attachment from L, he certainly does not see them as pawns.

I love it how he proves himself to be soo far from the image of the recluse genius, working only from behind the comfortable shield of his computer, unable or afraid to face the world outside……no, guys, he is aggressive and decisive, both in his opinions and in his actions, he is dead set from the beginning on having Kira commit a murder in front of him so he’d find out how exactly Kira kills, therefore, being pushy and (almost) reckless in some decisions, he takes the step of actually meeting Light and forcing him to make his next moves….He’s being force-of-nature aggressive….while having this…strange duality between cynicism and idealism where he almost wants to believe in the normalcy of Kira’s psyche, how no one can be so absolutely cruel as to kill someone without batting an eyelash…..

Somehow, I don’t believe for a second that he’s as listless and apathetic as he sometimes wants to appear. There are all these emotions brewing under the surface, barely masked by the “please” politeness, almost like I can see the “go fuck yourself” underneath haha. But there are times when he breaks that stance, for instance when he is confronted with the possibility of the shinigami being real, which disrupts his whole thinking system. That’s what he’s reacting to, to the internal earthquake (which he quickly tries to rationalize away), not out of fear of the supernatural... Also, I love his instinctive spasm of a reaction in the manga, compared to the long-drawn panic mode in the anime (completely out of character and unjustified imo)....

Aand...the reason I fell in love with him oh so many years ago. I mean, not The reason, but the moment where admiration morphed into love. The moment where he basically bled right there, emotionally, for Ukita. Now, I don't see it for one lousy second how Aizawa was abusive in his touch (he was just...having a normal emotional reaction using normal male tools), AND I don't interpret it as aversion to be touched, on L's part, as he is shown to shake hands with Light and such normal human interactions. What's happening here is his desperate attempt to remain in some semblance of control, to not let this whole situation unravel into tragedy (as he actually says, in so many words), not to break down emotionally under the weight of the guilt....for a man whose blood is directly on his hands, as well as the "precious lives" of the FBI agents. He is basically shaking with guilt and sorrow, and, of course, a little fear (he's human after all).

To be continued...