#idk. sometimes i just think no one seems to quite perfectly understand me and what i want.

[pizzapizzadickz]

.

[chronicbitchsyndrome]

i feel like being descriptively disabled (having a disability that interferes with your function in some tasks, roles, and/or other contexts) and being legally disabled (labeled as disabled by your government and subject to laws that only apply to people legally labeled as disabled) are different things, sometimes. like, populations with a lot of overlap, but still distinct experiences.

like... i am less descriptively or functionally disabled than some people that i am simultaneously in an indescribably worse situation than legally, simply because i am legally labeled as disabled by my government and therefore there are human rights abuses that it is entirely legal and even encouraged to do to me--abuses that are not legal to do to other disabled people because they do not occupy the legal position of disabled despite being descriptively disabled.

like, the fact that i am legally registered as a developmentally disabled person means it is perfectly legal for my biological family to push for and claim legal ownership over me for life, and i have little, if any, say in the matter. this is one of the reasons i legally changed my name and am incredibly anal about making sure my old name isn't connected to my new one, and one of the reasons i've cut all contact with my biofamily despite wanting to be friends with my siblings. and when i say "legal ownership," i mean that quite literally. it is entirely possible and legally encouraged for them to reclaim the ability to control my money, medical decisions, and living situation, for the rest of my life.

(i can't get rid of this power. i could transfer this power to my spouse if i get married, but i can't get married, since that would cut off my health insurance and income, also due to my legal status as disabled.)

there are plenty of autistic people who don't have to deal with this. many of them face even more significant developmental challenges than i do, and have more difficulties in their daily lives as a result. they may even have a diagnosis--having a diagnosis doesn't automatically register you as a disabled person with the government, you generally have to pursue benefits or other social welfare for that to be relevant. and yet, i still face this legal unpersoning simply because of bureaucratic chance. it has nothing to do with the severity of our disabilities, or whether they're physical or mental, or what challenges they present, or even what they are--it's just down to literal chance.

idk. been thinking about this a lot lately. disabled people who aren't legally disabled don't seem to have a lot of understanding of what my life is like, generally, which can be frustrating. sometimes i don't relate to a lot of "spoonie" or other disability spaces because they're focused on a particular disabled life that's inaccessible to me--one where you're struggling with functioning in a life where you have access to all the typical privileges of legal adulthood, and you can use typical adult legal privileges to navigate your functional struggles. but my disabled experience is that i'm struggling with functioning in a life where i am legally considered to not be a full person, and trying to navigate living my life without basic human rights, meanwhile i also have functional issues on top of that, but i have to navigate them in an entirely different way so that i don't ever set off any governmental alarms that could get me institutionalized or put in a conservatorship.

[babyfairy]

Not exactly the same, but. I'm 31 and spent my twenties suffering from extreme social anxiety and spent all my time in my house, and I'm just now trying to get out and figure out how to talk to people at my big age. Lol. But I want to try because I know there has to be something worth it out there. And the important thing is that you are also trying. I hope you can find the best therapist to help you on your neurodivergent journey and you truly get someone who listens to you and can help (c)

(c) make sense of the chaos you feel. I have bpd so I understand, I truly do, what it feels like when everything is crumbling inside and you just want to feel normal and experience life, and it makes you feel crazy bc it looks like everyone else is doing just fine so you're constantly just like... why can't I figure it out, too? You can. Keep fighting for your peace, Bri. Keep trying to find something out there that's worth looking forward to, no matter how small. I'm so sorry you're struggling.

you guys truly send me the most heartfelt messages. i can’t express my gratitude enough 😅 you described how i feel perfectly. everyone around me seems to have it together in ways that i can’t manage to and it makes me feel so…lonely? i think that’s the best word? jealous doesn’t quite describe it. i do envy that, but more than anything else i just feel sort of weird, and left behind, and isolated. i look up to my loved ones so much and all of them feel so put together even on their worst days. idk, it’s really weird. i’m 27 and sometimes i still feel like i’m 10, just trapped inside this adult body without a clue of where to go or what to do. i just want some guidance. i’m really hoping i’ll be able to sort things out a bit more in therapy. it’s just tough 😅 and i have a hard time talking about it even to the people i love haha! i’m better at spewing my thoughts on various social media platforms than i am sitting down and actually talking about how i feel with people i know and trust. i think i’m just afraid they’ll get tired of hearing it. anyway, sorry to ramble!! thank you so much for saying this. it gives me strength to know i’m not alone. i really really appreciate the kind words more than i can express

[struggle-but-its-all-ocean-floor]

Regarding your last post, I thought the same while watching the behind the scenes of the MV. This is not a shade because I myself am not fluent in English and still need to improve a lot but to me it seems quite obvious Jungkook’s English isn’t as good as some Army like to pretend (I’m going to get call names…). I would say he’s around a low intermediate level, which is perfectly fine, he has a busy life so it doesn’t let him a lot of time to study. I guess his understanding is better than his speaking skills, which is usually the case for most of language learners, but orally I don’t think he fully grasps all the meanings and nuances and the slang etc. I just want to say again this is not me trying to belittle his abilities, it’s only my opinion, but to me it doesn’t look like he fully understands what he sings… his face expressions in that video, it looks like sometimes he was a bit clueless. I’m not saying he has no idea of what he is singing, obviously he got a full translation before accepting the project but he doesn’t look like he truly "feels" the lyrics and immerge himself in it. Idk, for me it lacks something and that video made me a bit uncomfortable. I know I’m being a bit dramatic but I can’t shake the feeling that the industry is using him for cash and immediate success without paying much attention to who he his, his personality, his artistry. And another collab is on the way with Kid Laroi apparently… I’m losing interest. I want to hear Jungkook on his own, with a song made only for him and that reflects who he is as a person and an artist. I miss that feeling, seeing him perform so honestly, when you can see on his face and hear in his voice how much he feels the song, how deep he goes to find the emotions and bring them to the surface. I truly hope there will be songs on his album that makes me feel connected to him again because at the moment it feels like I am totally unable to enjoy what he’s doing.

I don't even know if he bothered translating Jack Harlow's parts tbh. I remember one Run BTS episode where they had to sing their songs without using English, so they had to translate some lyrics to Korean, and, apart from RM, the members didn't even know what the English lyrics meant. I remember J-Hope being shocked, like, "So this is what this part means?", which was a bit wild for me since it was his song. Tbh, I don't bother reading the translation to most kpop songs. I only know what the tts mean because most MVs have subtitles now. If not, then too bad... Most songs have boring lyrics so it's often best if I don't know them. It's different for the artist, but I still can't be certain that Jungkook bothered finding out the translation to Jack's parts although he's the type to. Maybe he was so busy he didn't bother? Maybe he recorded his parts and only gave his blessing to the final version which included Jack's verses, without approving the lyrics beforehand. He doesn't seem the type to control what other people write in their own verses. Maybe he was too busy to translate the lyrics and only did it later? All seem to be possible options. The fact that Jungkook had to be coached to do the right facial expressions and gestures for his TikTok with Jack made it seem like he wasn't sure at all what the lyrics meant - at least then. It also makes me confident that he doesn't know what "rain, rain, rain" or "champagne, confetti" really mean. I think Jungkook cares more about melody and the vibe than lyrics.

Anyway, I don't think the industry is using him. He's not a victim anymore than anyone else. He's making his own choices, as much as someone in the industry can. Of course Big Hit loves the choices he's making because he's doing so well commercially, but I think he's made it clear that he loves what he's been doing. And if he's letting other people make choices for him, the blame is on him too, because he's in a position where he can say no.

I also want to hear Jungkook on his own, but, unless he's truly being pressured into only doing collabs for whatever reason, these are the choices he's making.

Thanks for the ask!

[johnnys-green-pen]

I get why people ship Roy and Johnny but I kinda hopped off the ship after Roy tells Johnny he’s being sensitive about Chet’s Indian jokes. even tho Johnny made one the end (he s definitely being sarcastic I think) it seemed…idk

You know, that's the first time I've seen somebody cite that scene as a reason why they doesn't ship Johnny/Roy, which is genuinely fascinating. I definitely get why that'd be a deal breaker to you, especially because that's not the only time where Roy's kind of being an ass in a very similar kind of way - there's also the whole "Roy calls Johnny a nut and he takes it personally" bit in "Crash" for instance and if you want to widen the scope somewhat, I guess Roy assuming Johnny is moping about having been dumped while Johnny's still dealing with Drew's death in "Frequency" falls into a similar category, too.

It's definitely not great.

(It's extra not great in Peace Pipe because of the casual racism, but I guess we should probably cut the show some slack on account of its age, especially because they raised a couple other points in that episode that were way ahead of its time. Still, though - YIKES)

(I don't think this is a shipping issue, though - Roy's behavior is just as unacceptable looking at them platonically given how close they are in canon. Shitty friends aren't any better than shitty romantic partners, if you ask me)

(also, I personally don't think Johnny was being sarcastic with that joke; I think that was his attempt at finding a compromise because he's notoriously eager to please, cares entirely too much about what Roy thinks, and figured making the jokes on his terms was good enough for him. Which... honestly just makes the scene that much worse, because he clearly never should have had to feel like he had to make that joke)

The thing that makes me stick with it anyway is that it doesn't really make Roy care any less, I guess. Sure, Roy is an emotionally constipated numbskull who could store his empathy in a thimble with room to spare sometimes*, but he does genuinely seem to care a great deal about Johnny, even if he doesn't always understand him.

Is that a healthy relationship dynamic? Not really, not if it leads to Roy invalidating Johnny's feelings like he did in that scene, but I would like to think that Roy has it in him to grow and actually get his shit together eventually.

So, yeah, they're not perfect; Roy pretty obviously not, and Johnny quite frankly has his moments, too. Whether that's a deal breaker or not as far as shipping is concerned is up to each one of us individually, and I wouldn't want to convince anyone to ship something they're not comfortable with. I personally think they're within range to make it work and I do think they have the potential to make each other better people; you might disagree and that's perfectly understandable, too.

(I guess to some extent the mild fucked-up-ness is part of why I think the ship's interesting; there's some great dramatic fic potential in Roy caring, but still fucking it up)

I'm pretty much just rambling and there isn't really much of a point to this; sorry for that.

I wasn't entirely sure what kind of a reply you were looking for; I hope I managed to get it right!

Anyway, thanks for the ask (and for giving me an opportunity to ramble about imperfections or something); it's always interesting to hear about other people's fandom experiences!

*incidentally, I could go off for ages about theories as to why he is like that, but A) this isn't the place for it, B) we'd still be here tomorrow, and C) that still doesn't excuse his behavior.

[poetryofyouth]

tw suicide, funeral, loss of family member

A week ago, my cousin took his own life. It was the first day of my 2 week long break from work that i'd definitely imagined differently.

It is weird.. I was supposed to be the person in this family who would eventually kill themselves. not someone else. And of course, when my uncle (father of the deceased) called my dad to tell him (my parents and I were having dinner together) my mom instantly started talking about how glad she is that I wasn't successful. which, is understandable, I guess, but very weird.

My aunt and cousin had visited me in the psych ward once. I think he was hospitalized once, too, but "only" for a few days.

He had been unemployed and elusive for several years now. My aunt and uncle eventually gave up trying to call or reach him otherwise, his phone appeared to be turned off almost always. The last time I saw him was almost a year ago at my grandpa's funeral. He had visited him a couple times before he passed. And back then my cousin seemed... perfectly normal? Now, I know that you can fake normal and happy for family's sake, I have a lot of practice in that as well. But I'd never have guessed anything was wrong, and I knew something weird was going on and still he seemed normal.

Honestly I have no idea what he did. He lived in his own apartment, alone, in a different town. He had no job, he did not get unemployment anymore because it had been years. He had inherited some money from his grandparents, gotten money gifted from other family members as well, but if you have zero income for several years... Idk how he lasted this long without any income. My dad said that he probably finally ran out of money for good and didn't see a way out. Might be. Seems like a stupid reason tho, it's not like he couldn't have asked his parents for help, i get not wanting to do that of course but he had a good education, he had worked really good jobs before... something happened?

I really do not know what happened. We were never close, he's 15 years older than me. I know he graduated college, I know he had fancy jobs at fancy firms until a couple years he just quit his job and didn't get a new one and then my aunt sometimes talked about how he was seemingly struggling with alcohol, acting weirdly, and he came to barely any family events anymore and apparently didn't want anything to do anymore with his family and his parents most of all.

It still feels surreal. And he was one of two people with the same first name in my family. My uncle, mother's brother, passed away more than 15 years ago in a skiing accident. Now he passed away, too, and suddenly, no one has that name anymore.

He also killed himself two days before my grandma's birthday, he was her first grandchild. Seems like a, I want to say "dick move" which feels inconsiderate but I can't think of anything else. My aunt and uncle refuse to tell her, they didn't want to ruin her Birthday but also I think they didn't want to have to do it, for very understandable reasons. Also, she is over 90 years old and has dementia (still hasn't fully understood that my grandpa (her husband) is gone almost a year later. or maybe she doesn't want to accept it idk), so it is questionable how much she would even understand. My dad is over there now telling her. I hope she doesn't think it's my brother, she always called my brother by my cousins name (even when she was mentally fitter, she also always called me by my oldest female cousin's name.

Anyway, the funeral is in a few hours and I still have to get to my new apartment that i am almost moved into before that because today my kitchen will be finished. Of course you don't know something like that beforehand, when scheduling the handypeople to come install a kitchen. And I know it is very self-obsessed to make this all about me when most other family members are more affected but. This was supposed to be a relaxing, chill and pre-festive work break for me.

[madewithspice]

Two of a kind || Erwin x gn!reader

Warnings: None, I think its fluff. Erwin and Reader are med students

I'm a sucker for academic rivals to lovers. One of my favourite tropes. It's the first time im writing something so long so be kind

Maybe a pt2? Idk yet

He was in every lecture, always raising his hands to add something or even correct the professor sometimes. His voice made your blood boil. Why he had a say to everything? You couldnt lie, Erwin was very smart but you'd rather die than admit it in front of someone.

You were also one of the top students, to be more specific you were the second one with the best grades. Erwin was obviously the first one leading to the growth of your hatred. Was it hate? Jealousy? It didn't matter you'd still roll your eyes when you saw him. You always wondered how he could be so effortlessly good at everything. You studied your arse off and he still beat you. Nothing you did was enough.

A new assignment came your way from the class you hated the most, bio computer science. You pushed the door of the library trying to find an empty seat at the computer section but unfortunately for you the only one was next to Erwin. You were very close to leaving the library but you wouldn't let him win. You sat next to him dragging obnoxiously loud your chair and dropped your bag on the floor. You were waiting for the computer to start while tapping the table with your fingers. Everyone around you was looking at you annoyed because clearly you didn't understand that you are in a library. Everyone but him.

He was so focused on his assignment, the reflection of the exercise was on his glasses that were sat prettily on his hooked nose. The admiration of Erwin didn't last long because the windows notification disrupted you. You focused immediately on the exercises that your teacher claimed as easy but when you saw them you wanted to cry because you were technologically illiterate. You looked around to see the expressions of everyone, they seemed so peaceful using the computers, some of them were even smiling.

You stretched a little to take a peak at Erwins progress but your face dropped when you witnessed that was too close to the end. "Do you want any help?" His eyes were now on you after noticing your presence. "Nah just stretching before I start. It helps me pay attention on something longer" you internally cringed with your words. "never heard of that but if that helps you" he chuckled. "Yeah you should try it too" you start stretching your arms and then cracked your fingers. If all the people in the computer section weren't looking you before they sure did now.

Erwin shut down his computer standing up. "I got to go now. Have a nice day" you watched him leaving the library with his leather bag wearing a dark blue button up shirt and grey pants that hugged perfectly his toned butt. When the perfect view left your sight, you had to turn back to the assignment that will definitely haunt your dreams later.

The next morning welcomed you with a headache from your bio computer assignment and Erwin being in the front row. He looked so fresh and full of energy while you looked like you're are one blink away from dying. In order to be better like him you need to see how he works so that's why you sat next to him and it wasn't because you were secretly attracted to him.

"Good morning" he said to you with a warm smile "Morning Erwin" you replied already beaten by his charm. You paid attention in every detail of his routine cursing yourself for being so unorganised. He was writing so fast but so neatly. Everything about him screamed perfection from his looks to his academic performance. You shared every class together. You were quite surprised that you and him made the same choices. Maybe in another universe you two would be very good friends if you didn't want to be better than him.

Curiosity was dominating your brain. What were his feelings about you? Did he see you as a threat? Did he see you as competition? "No way" you said to yourself "what?" Erwin asked you looking at your eyes and that's when you realised that it wasn't an internal thought. "I'm deeply fascinated by the pulmonary edema" you said glancing at the power point of the lecturer. "Yeah it's pretty interesting" he said making you giggle. He didn't question it, you looked so adorable that he wanted to kiss your cheeks.

"Sooo, do you have a partner?" He caught you off guard with that question. What kind of partner? "A partner?" You asked with a confused look. "For the project our professor just said". You were too focused on Erwin and your thoughts that you forgot you even were in a class. "Right. No I don't have. I don't like working with others because they don't reach my expectations" you said that a little bit louder because some people around you looked at you with disgust. Maybe they hated you or they were jealous. Maybe it's the same feeling you have with Erwin? You couldnt care less about what others were thinking about you.

"I know that but since we are in the same level, I thought we'll work well together" he said but you only heard two words same level. "You think we are the same?" Trying not to smile was impossible for you now. "Of course, you are very smart and you are the best at the clinical practice. I don't understand how you remain so calm. To be honest I'm pretty jealous of your ability to make right decisions in a chaotic place" if you weren't shy you'd hug him right now.

You never expected those words coming from his mouth. Your pride didn't let you to compliment him back about how much you admire him. Maybe one day you'll do it. "Thank you. I'll share my tips to you when we'll do our project" you said giving your phone to Erwin "give me your number. I'll send you my address" he grabbed your phone with shaking hands but you didn't comment on it. You were both embarrassingly awful when it comes to flirting but he was still so cute. His voice didn't seem so annoying anymore.

-Markie♡

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

Idk if you do one shots inspired in songs, but if so, Would you mind doing one with a Taylor Swift's song which is called "The 1"? With Mason Mount please

< i love taylor so much and i really hope i didn’t completely butcher this, but thanks for the challenge :) >

MASON MOUNT ONESHOT

the 1

( WARNING: little bit of angst and fluff?, swearing )

word count: 1.8k

Things don’t often go as we expect them to, and it’s often incredibly difficult to replan your life around that massive change and adapt your lifestyle so you can — in reality — live again.

It’s like trying to find your feet when you’re in the air — it feels impossible but you know with time you’ll eventually meet the ground again.

That’s what it felt like when you and Mason broke up four years ago.

You were fresh out of uni and at the time, you really thought he’d be it for you, and honestly, so did he. A break up thrown into the mix of having to navigate adult life just seemed to put a huge stopper on all your plans; the holiday you two had both booked for a weekend away in Ireland, the meals out with friends that you had to cancel, and the house showings you were set to attend.

Looking back on your relationship now, you realise it wouldn’t have been the worst thing to end up with Mason. All the years and effort and time put into loving him were — without a doubt — some of the best years of your life (at that stage in life), and did you regret it?

Not one single bit.

But four years is the perfect amount of time to heal, remove the salt from the wound and finish grieving.

But he was here. In real life.

You’d imagined running into him in the supermarket or on a night out with your friends, but a bus stop?

That one was weird. Mainly because you both hated catching the bus with a burning passion.

But it lead to a catch up over coffee.

It was a quiet place, out of the way of the usual lunchtime hustle and bustle in the city, and for that you were grateful. You could hear your own thoughts.

It was awkward at first, you couldn’t keep your eyes from fixating on his figure, his features, because four years can really change a person. He was much broader, his hair a little shorter, but he was still that same Mason you once loved.

You knew that because the first thing he did when he sat down was offer you that cheeky, charming smile that had you hooked from the second you met.

He’d asked how you were, and you answered honestly: you were living well, your best life, and to the fullest. And you knew and he knew that it wasn’t a lie.

He could tell by the smile on your face and the new, sparkling band on your wedding finger. He half expected that blow to sting a little — that you’d found someone and he hadn’t, but he was never one to be bitter whatsoever, at least, not when it came to you.

Instead, he offered his congratulations and the only inkling of regret he held was not being there when it happened.

I guess you never know, never know,

And if you wanted me, you really should’ve showed,

And if you never bleed, you’re never gonna grow,

And it’s alright now.

There was silence after that.

You had one thing on your mind, and you knew by the way he was looking at you that he was also thinking the same thing.

You took a sip of your coffee.

He mirrored your actions, seemingly startled when you placed your mug onto your saucer, the chink of porcelain against porcelain echoing around the small shop cutting through the previous quietness.

“I think I hated you for a while.” You murmured, and if Mason wasn’t leant over the table slightly, he would’ve missed the statement completely.

He nodded in understanding, his brown eyes shining with the faintest hint of guilt.

“I think I was so frustrated with the idea that we just…didn’t work, and I blamed it on you.” You paused, fingers twisting your rings.

He paused, mulling over his words, “And now? Still hate me now?”

You bit back a small smile and met his eyes, “No…I think it’d take a whole load of bad shit to get me to hate you.”

He smiled.

“That’s good to know.”

“I mean, I think it was a long time coming anyway, that break up.”

“It didn’t feel right for a while.”

“No,” you agreed, “as much as it hurt to admit, I think we just failed…as a couple. There was a point where we were just together for the sake of not giving up on the relationship, but with no real reason to continue.”

But we were something, don't you think so?

Roaring twenties, tossing pennies in the pool,

And if my wishes came true,

It would've been you,

In my defense, I have none,

For never leaving well enough alone,

But it would've been fun,

If you would've been the one.

He seemed to ponder over your words, and although he never voiced it, he came to the conclusion that you’d just put into words — perfectly — the itch that had been tickling his brain for the past few years.

“Despite that, you can’t deny that we weren’t something…” he started, before breaking off and shaking his head, as if the mere thought was ridiculous.

“We were something special. I think, had things stayed like they were in the beginning, that…you and I…” you waved your hand, tilting your head, and he nodded in agreement, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Me too. I think…in another life we could have made each other happy. It would have been fun.”

The words ‘if you would’ve been the one’ echoed in your head, and despite the passive aggressiveness of your conscience, you found yourself holding back a smile.

“Water fights in winter and eggs with ketchup…perfect. I’d never have gotten tired of that.” You mused, and he spluttered slightly on his coffee, laughing along with you in what felt like a decade.

I have this dream you're doing cool shit,

Having adventures on your own,

You meet some woman on the internet and take her home,

We never painted by the numbers, baby,

But we were making it count,

You know the greatest loves of all time are over now.

“Then again, who knows? Maybe you’ll fall over in the airport and some lucky person will help you off the floor—”

“You’re about to say something cheesy, aren’t you?” Mason covered his mouth, scrunching his nose in anticipation as you nodded.

“All this nostalgic bullshit has me emotional! I swear, just this once…just this once, and I promise you can laugh about it afterwards.” You swore, holding out your pinkie for confirmation.

He didn’t hesitate, and linked your pinkie.

“You’ll find someone else. It’ll be love at first sight—hey, let me have this moment…maybe love at second sight, knowing you… you’ll go to some really magical place and have the most amount of fun you’re ever gonna have…hikes, skydiving, looking after animals I’m sanctuaries…you’re gonna have the time of your life — like Grey and Swayze.” You sniggered, unable to hold in your laughs at the ridiculous scenarios.

Mason pulled a face, unable to hide a smile.

“Okay, okay. End of story: they’ll be perfect. The Chandler to your Monica or the Robin to your Ted. But, you understand what I’m talking about, right?” You asked, sighing out of frustration.

“You’re saying I’ll find my person.” He concluded, sitting back in his chair.

“Yeah.”

We were something, don't you think so?

Rosé flowing with your chosen family,

And it would've been sweet,

If it could've been me,

In my defense, I have none,

For digging up the grave another time,

But it would've been fun,

If you would've been the one.

“Like…your grandma and grandad. I want what they have.” Mason smiled.

“They’ll be pleased to hear that,” you said, “I don’t think they’re quite over us yet. You were too…you at family meals. They fell in love with you too.”

This time Mason really laughed. Really laughed. He threw his head back and the people working at the counter turned to look at him, fighting their own smiles at his carefree nature.

What you’d said wasn’t even that funny.

“Too me? Thanks, I think?”

“Oh, that’s definitely a compliment. You’re too damn charming for your own good, it’s a problem. You should come with a warning label on your forehead: EASY TO LOVE.”

“That’ll solve a lot of problems.”

There was silence.

It was relieving to say the least.

“That whole conversation was about four years too late.” You said, pursing your lips.

“Better late than never.” Mason murmured, his eyes trained on you.

The pressure on your shoulders was lifted. All the things that needed to be said were said.

As time passes, the wound heals — sometimes, but in your case, that was true, as hard as it was to come to that conclusion — and it suddenly became easier to recall the loss of what might have been without bringing you back to wishing it would be again.

It was nice.

“Would it be totally inappropriate—”

“Not at all.” You interrupted, shrugging at his raised eyebrows.

“You didn’t know what I was going to say.” He chuckled.

“I’ll have you know that years of knowing you granted me the issue of knowing what you’re going to say,” You said, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction.

“What was I going to say?” He challenged, “If you get it right, I’ll get you tickets to the next game.”

You raised your brows.

“Confident, are we?”

He shrugged, a smug smirk on his lips.

“I don’t think it’s totally inappropriate to be friends.” At your words, he slumped in his chair, hands going to cover his face.

“No.” He groaned, repeating the word like a mantra as you pumped the air with your fist.

“Three tickets to the next game in the bag.” You bragged.

“Honestly.” He whined, peeling his hands away. “Why are you so difficult?”

“You offered the terms.”

“Why am I so dumb?” He rephrased.

“Ah, I'm afraid only you can answer that one.”

“The brain cells I have left don’t have enough energy to come up with an answer to a question as philosophical as that one—yes, it was philosophical to me, okay?”

“I wasn’t going to say anything.” You promised, putting your hands in the air in surrender.

“Just remember who’s going to give you those tickets, yeah?” He teased, sitting up.

“Abusing your power, nice move.”

“Oh…shut up.”

“Weak.” You coughed, trying to disguise the fact you said anything.

He looked straight at you, highly unimpressed by your tactics.

“Very original.” Was all he said.

“Is it supposed to be this easy?” You blurted out, spitting out the words before you could rethink the consequences of them being thrown into the abyss between you and Mason.

He knitted his brows together in thought.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly, “but we were friends way before, it’s not hard to fall back into old habits. I think that’s why it’s so easy.”

[zv5x]

idea i have for yan!senpai. him but with a hikikomori s/o whos very shy

Okay, I have no idea what took me so long to get to this but I absolutely love this idea. Having a character as extroverted and as charismatic as Sen with an s/o who you could consider hikikonori is an interesting idea enough, so I'm definitely gonna enjoy adding the yandere trope into it teehee. Thank you for your request, Anon! Feel free to request anything else you want me to do any time! Hope you enjoy this!

(Might do a part two to this later, idk😌)

( :̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

You were quite the anomaly, weren't you?

To the rest of the school you were, at least.

You were the cutest thing, really, but agonizingly shy. Your voice was so soft and beautiful to listen to, but to bad he barely ever got to hear it. The girls, his followers, they picked on you. They saw your shyness as a sign of weakness that they jumped at the opportunity to exploit it, and it made him sick to his stomach.

Everyday he tried lecturing them about the basics, right as they gathered towards him at the beginning of the day : bullying is bad, it's okay to be shy, and not hanging onto his backpack every second of the day doesn't make someone a subhuman. You know, the usual things teachers would tell younger students at painfully long assemblies and lectures. But they never seemed to listen.

They always had those excuses that made Sen want to grip them up by their throats, face almost blue with rage and a desire for revenge. But he never did. It wouldn't be very Senpai-like to do that in the public eye now would it?

Speaking of "not very Senpai-like" actions, it was about lunchtime, which meant it was time for his favorite part of the day. His legs wobbled in anticipation as he carried himself to his destination, the air feeling cleaner than it usually did. Maybe that was a sign, he wasn't sure. What he was sure of however, is that you would be sitting in your usual spot for lunch period, like you did every other day. It's not like anyone else accompanied you to lunch, so he understands why you're all alone. Sometimes it's better to just accept isolation than to force yourself to into the presence of people who could never appreciate you. It's nothing to feel bad about. If Sen himself were in your position, he wouldn't do anything but the same.

Seeing you sitting under that same cherry tree made his heart flutter. The falling petals perfectly complemented every part of you, it was as if this was some scene in a cheesy romance visual novel. Humming to himself, he fixed his loose tie and called out to you by your name. You instantly looked up, a cute look of surprise on your face, and your eyes instantly widened upon seeing who was calling to you.

"S-Senpai?" Your voice quivered, and he only giggled to himself as he made his way to your seat.

"May I sit here?" He asked in a soft tone, smiling. It was a sweet smile, an alluring one, and you felt as if you had no choice than to nod your head.

In all honesty, Senpai was just about the last person you would expect to be sitting next to you right now. Pretty, popular, extroverted, adored. He had every last trait you felt would make up a person that would spit on your image without a shread of hesitation. You were intimidated by him, especially considering every single person who seemed to want to bother you was one of his hopelessly devoted followers. He didn't have a reason to be sitting next to you right now. Did he pity you? Was he bored? You didn't know for sure, and you couldn't tell if that intrigued you or scared you even further.

"So, (Y/N), I was thinking..." Sen twirled a strand of his hair around on his finger, drawing out the sound of his words cutely. You popped right back to the moment, looking at him and awaiting his next words. "How about you come to my house after school?" He looked at you and smiled, tilting his head. You froze. Senpai's house? After school? Today? It just didn't make any sense to you.

However, your shoulders dropped as you realized you wouldn't be able to take the opportunity. You had plans with a close friend, an extremely close one, and you didn't want to let them down. After all, you were sure they hated Senpai. They'd be especially angry if you ditched them for him.

"I'm sorry, Senpai, I can't..." You sighed, and looked away just as Senpai's face dropped and his eyes widened. In the future, Sen would be decently proud you missed that.

"Can't...can't come? W-why?"

Senpai felt his heart shatter right in his chest. This couldn't be. You couldn't come? Why not? It doesn't make any sense to him! He had everything planned out perfectly. This day was supposed to be perfect! He takes you home, he confesses to you, you tell him you love him too, you kiss and hold each other and spend the rest of the day together, he had everything planned! Why were you trying to ruin that for him? How could you be so selfish? He had to know your reason, though. Perhaps it was important, perhaps it would be something he could wrap his pretty head around, and then everything would go right back on track after the two of you settled on a reschedule date.

"Well, why not, if I may ask?" Senpai questioned, pulling himself together enough to sound sophisticated once more. You smiled at him weakly.

"A good friend already made plans with me after school...." You tapped your chin with your finger, as Senpai felt his entire body go numb. Someone...else? A friend? No. That couldn't be right. You were a liar. Sen watched you intensively for the past few months. He didn't see anyone close enough to you on school grounds to be able to make a plan with you.

"W-well, it will only be for a bit! Please, I assure you I won't take up too much of your time!" Senpai pleaded, finding himself placing both of his hands onto a single one of your own, his throat beginning to tighten from his agonizing feeling of helplessness. You looked up at him, saw the desperateness that shone in his eyes, and sighed.

Maybe an hour with him wouldn't hurt.

"Alright Sen, I-I think I can make out some time with you. Just, meet me at the gate, alright?" Senpai after you finished your instructions nodded quickly, happy to have convinced you.

Soon, the sound of the end of period bell rang, and the two of you got up, Senpai doing so a little bit quicker than anyone usually would. He smiled at you one more time, patting you on the head and bidding you farewell, and he left before you could give him a response back.

Senpai was glad he was able to convince you, and he was even gladder that he was so quick to figure out a plan for your meeting.

The sedative was packed nicely in his pocket, the syringe he was planning on using was wrapped neatly in the other. He was planning on only using those if completely warrented. For example, if you demanded him to let you leave. But, now he sees that the scum of the world are already kicking down your door and demanding your time. He's not the only one who wants you anymore, and that fact alone makes Senpai's blood boil. You're his. You belong to him. He thought the shyness you had was a plus, but now he sees you're falling victim to bleeding-heart worms who only wish to be with you for pity reasons. It made him sick.

You deserve better.

And by the time this day is done, he's going to finally be able to give you better.

[zombryz]

chile, I want my guts DESTROYED by Broly or Whis. Ik saying Whis is a stretch, but idk, he's so fine to meeee. thank you 🥰

Hi Anon! I’m sort of a Whis girl myself (˵ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°˵) please enjoy this lovely Whis one shot ~

TW: smut, and some fluff ✧

Lord Beerus’ planet was honestly really pretty. It was concealed within a nebula and it appeared to be upside down although when you were within it you were always right side up. Strange, but beautiful. There was an enormous tree growing in the center which at the base held Lord Beerus’ castle. Every morning you would take in all its glory with your daily meditation ritual that Piccolo taught you. You have been here for going on four months now. Because you were human you had no need for training, but Goku and Vegeta insisted on you coming along to cook meals and to keep them company. The Saiyan’s would be so lost without you. You had originally rolled your eyes at the invitation but you couldn’t pass up traveling through the galaxy. Lord Beerus and his attendant, Whis, didn’t seem to mind. They were always in the mood for a good meal. It was also a perk having a destroyer on your side, imagine if someone on earth had looked at you the wrong way. Gods, not even luck would be able to help them. It had grown a bit lonely though, your daily routine consisted of; waking up, meditating, watching Goku and Vegeta train with Whis, prepare breakfast, go back to meditation, watch them train some more, cook lunch, talk to Lord Beerus when/if he woke up, sometimes watch godtube with Lord Beerus, cook dinner, go to sleep, repeat. Your routine was becoming tiresome and you ached for a change.

This morning you had been meditating, your regular schedule, you looked down to see Goku and Vegeta going head to head with Whis. Obviously, Whis had dodged every single attack made by the pair of Saiyans. Your hands were on top of your knees while you were sitting in a criss-cross position. You had lifted one eye up to watch them train. The Saiyans hadn’t interested you as much as Whis did. He was so smooth and had such a calming presence. You felt as though nothing could penetrate his defenses. Vegeta once told you that Whis was the one to train Lord Beerus and so that piqued your interest. While watching them train you had usually fixed your eyes on either Goku or Vegeta, but this time you couldn’t take your eyes off of Whis. Something about him was so elegant and intoxicating. He must’ve felt your peering eyes because in the midst of taking on four fists to the face he looked up at you, making eye contact causing you to immediately close both of your eyes. Shit, you’d been caught peeping. You hoped with his many talents that he couldn’t read minds, that would be embarrassing to explain to him the dirty things you had been thinking at that moment. 

Finally, it was dinner time. You had cooked up a large enough meal for your makeshift-god family. You made mountains of ramen, it all looked and smelled so delicious. The spices filling up the room causing your mouth to water. You grabbed one bowl for yourself and let them all dig in. 

“Thank you, Y/N,” Whis looked at you with sincerity in his eyes. He held direct eye contact for a moment. This was a different look for him, usually, he stuffs his face and would give thanks after. 

“You’re welcome, Whis,” you replied, giving a gentle smile. This interaction caused your heart to thump in your chest. He had singled you out before you were nothing more than the cook. If you were being honest with yourself you didn’t even know if he knew your name. 

After dinner, you found yourself in your bedroom, one of the many rooms in the palace. This always confused you because Beerus didn’t seem to be one for having guests over. You had just gotten out of your nightly shower patting your hair dry with a secondary towel. When you walk out of the bathroom that was attached to your bedroom, you see none other than the Angel himself, Whis. You froze, your first thought was that maybe you were seeing things. Why was Whis in your bedroom? He was standing there with his scepter in his right hand while his left hand was behind his back. There was a moment of silence before he began to speak. 

“I am not supposed to be doing this but after the way you looked at me today it confirmed it,” he trailed off at the end. You weren’t really following. 

“Whis, what are you talking about?” You questioned, raising a brow in confusion. He seemed a little nervous himself and you were glad you weren’t the only one having a mini panic attack. 

“I have felt attracted to you for a while now, Y/N. Today, when you looked at me during training your body language had confirmed that you feel the same.” He said this time sounding more confident than before. Your heart started racing, you thought this was just some silly crush but now an Angel was standing in your bedroom confessing how he feels about you. Your face was turning rosy when you realized you hadn’t responded to him yet. 

“Oh, um. Y-Yeah. I’m sorry if that complicates things for you. I didn’t even think Angels were capable of liking mortals.” You finally answered, unsure of where this was going to go. You were beginning to feel the weight of this whole conversation, not even thinking about the fact that you were still in only a towel. Angels definitely didn’t understand social cues, otherwise, this would be way more awkward. 

Without responding Whis hammered his scepter to the ground ordering it to undress you. Your towel dropped to the ground and you had no intention of covering yourself. Your cheeks had become completely red now, you were standing in front of the angel completely naked with your hair still dripping wet. Whis leaned his scepter against the wall and started undressing, removing his long black cuirass first and then his maroon robe not long after. Still in shock, you watched him remove every bit of clothing he had on until you were both standing nude and at each other’s disposal. Standing in silence you felt that this was oddly romantic, his eyes wandered down your body appreciating every part, every curve of it with a hunger in his eyes that you had never seen before. You returned the favor by letting your eyes trail down his body, starting with his perfectly chiseled jaw, just under was his glowing blue halo that fell at his collarbone, his arm muscles looked like they had been crafted by the gods themselves. His chest was perfectly swole and slender. His torso ended in a beautiful v-shape. He was standing with both hands behind his back, allowing you to take in his glory. When your eyes went lower you realized that he was already as hard as a rock. His dick was big and long and a lighter shade of blue than the rest of his skin. It looked so supple in the moonlight, his tip was a brighter pink and it had an iridescent glow of pre-cum at its tip. You wanted so badly to get on your knees, sucking off the Angel right where he stood. Your body tingles at the thought causing you to shiver.

Whis lifted two fingers and motioned for you to come to him, without even having to move your body you were flying to him through the air using his abilities. The space between you was very limited now and this caused your breathing to quicken. He towered over you and you couldn’t help but want to be dominated by him. Whis on the other hand was calm and eager. You stepped closer to him, that’s when you noticed his halo was preventing you from getting any closer. To fix the issue, you stepped underneath and into his halo so that now he shared his space with you. The halo was now wrapped around the both of you causing you to be forced closer together. Chests now touching, you looked up to see his face illuminated by both the moonlight sneaking in through the window and his halo that was humming a low buzzing noise next to both sides of your faces. The feeling was euphoric. He made one last gentle look at you before his eyes turned needy, he leaned down to kiss you. It was passionate and fiery, both of his hands came out from behind his back to grab and cup your face. His tongue wanting to explore your mouth so you slightly opened yours allowing him entrance. A moan escaped your lips sending him into a fury. His kisses became sloppy and hungry. His hands traveled down to your breasts, toying with your already hard nipples. He slightly pinched at your nipples before grabbing a fistful of your breasts causing him to inhale deeply. Growing impatient he reached down to pick you up so that you would be closer to him. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you to your bed. Halo still around you both it was the most intimate you had ever felt with anyone. It was as though you were tied to each other, causing an unbreakable bond. Whis slowly laid you on the bed, you were already soaking wet and ready for him. This time you grew impatient and reached for his cock, once you had him in your hands you lined him up to your entrance making sure to slide him up and down to gather your wetness. Whis kissed you between moans, the moment he slid in you both inhaled deeply feeling the pleasure of him inside of you, your lips still pressed together. With a few more pumps you grew comfortable with his size, you wanted him to quicken his pace. 

“Whis, faster. P-please,” you breathily mewled in his ear, he didn’t hesitate. He began thrusting into you harder and faster causing you to throw your head back in pleasure which only caused him to fall closer to you because of the halo. As he continued fucking you he snaked his hands up to your breasts, with his halo it was difficult but he needed you in his mouth. He leaned down slightly, bending his body enough to grab one of your breasts. He began flicking his tongue over your sensitive skin, you were quite literally in heaven. With his free hand, he began circling your clit with his thumb. Gods, this felt so good. You bucked your hips into him desperate for release.

You wanted to make him feel good too, you motioned for him to switch places. With a quick shift you were straddling him, his cock still deep inside your walls. You moved slightly as you got comfortable in the new position. His halo created the perfect closeness you needed to ride out your orgasm. Whis sat up and kissed down your neck and collarbone. He planted sloppy kisses all over your face. He kissed the tip of your nose and forehead, causing you to smile while you bounced on top of him. This reaction made him smile sweetly in return. You continued to grind against him, he lifted his lower body slightly to give you a greater closeness than you had before. While you were riding him he wrapped his arms around you holding you down on his cock shoving his length entirely inside you, holding you still while he thrust into you this time. A loud moan came from the back of your throat causing him to quicken his speed. You were reaching for release and god was he giving it to you, he kept massaging your breasts with one hand while holding you tightly in the other. You rode out your climax, clamping around him, milking his cock, not worried about if anyone else in the palace could hear your moans of pleasure. Whis wasn’t far behind, he quickened his speed steading out his thrusts so that he could come. He held you down on his cock shoving in and out of you while you bounced on top of him. His cock hitting the end of your walls each time. With his eyes closed, he threw his head back causing you to be pulled into the nook of his neck and shoulder. You planted kisses on the sides of his neck as you rest your head on him while he came hard inside of you. He felt so good. Without getting off of him, he remained inside of you, you could feel his warm cum spilling out from the sides of your walls and down your legs but you didn’t care. You were both panting, you were still laid against him quite comfortably where you were. You were in a hugging position and never wanted to move out of this spot. After a minute or two you sat up, still straddling him you took both of your hands and cupped them around his temples, pushing his tall, white hair down while you reached up to kiss him on the forehead. After the kiss, you pressed your forehead against his. He was your angel and you never wanted to leave this halo.

[tenthgrove]

hi! could i request some platonic la squadra with a team member who's autistic and mainly stims by repeating short phrases (echolalia but idk how to phrase it) and has/had a hard time unmasking around them? feel free to take as many liberties as you need to, your writing is so fun to read! <33

La Squadra Says Autism Rights

La Squadra x Reader (GN), Platonic, SFW

(A/N: I just wanted to say a particular thank you to this requester because I've been itching to write autistic reader headcanons for months and this finally gave me the right prompt to do it. I definitely want to write more in the future.)

Formaggio- He might be neurotypical, but autism runs in his family (and his social circle as an adult) so he's learned a fair bit how best to interact with you people. He knows his loudness and teasing can be an issue for autistic people with sensory issues or trouble with sarcasm, so he'll drop it around you if that's the case. As far as he's concerned your vocal stim is a non-issue because 'some people just do that, it doesn't hurt anyone' and he doesn't comment on it unless you're using it to show happiness, in which case he always acts chuffed. He behaves sympathetically to your troubles with masking, and makes a point of acting laid-back so it's easy for you to turn down the pressure on yourself. To Formaggio, not being able to be yourself would be one of the worst fates imaginable, so he wants to do what he can to make it easier for you to let loose.

Illuso- You might expect Illuso's understanding to be low, but at this point with so much of the team being neurodivergent themselves Illuso doesn't bat an eyelid. Repeating short phrases is certainly a new one, but nothing he can't put up with. Sometimes, he might ask you what your murmurings mean, but he doesn't mean it in a judgy way. Now, as for your masking, you would be surprised how much he can relate. Illuso's self esteem is secretly down the gutter, and he often feels like the confident persona he puts on is secretly an act. When you tell him you feel like you're putting a show every day of your life, he feels you. The two of you have a lot of heartfelt conversations when you're alone, confessing how you really feel about yourselves away from the act you're performing. It's not something Illuso does often, be this honest even with a friend. But he can't help but find that it's... therapeutic.

Prosciutto- Like with anything a friend of his may be insecure about, Prosciutto very much looks at autism through the lens of identifying positives. This by no means says that he ignores your difficulties or tries to creative positives that aren't there, only that he takes note of your strengths no matter how much you try to deny them and makes sure you remember you have them. He doesn't try to 'fix' your echolalia because he knows it's better to work with an autistic person's traits than erase them, but he does teach you mental diversion techniques to help you tone the stim down when you need to (e.g. when you're trying to be stealthy). Regarding your masking, he can somewhat admire it as a useful skill to have- it's possible you could turn it into the skills of an excellent actor while under cover, but he also appreciates the impact this must be having on your self-esteem to have to hide yourself 24/7, so he wants to help you learn to cut it down. This, of course, is done through plenty of praise and reminding of your strengths. You are a wonderful addition to the team, even without your mask, and he won't let you think any less.

Pesci- When Pesci gets stressed it affects him a lot too. Sometimes he does things like fiddle with random items in his hands until they break or bounce his leg so hard the table shakes, which always get him strange looks. He appreciates the rationale of your stimming and would never judge you for it. If you're in a situation where you absolutely need to stop stimming, for instance if a team is visiting who isn't on good terms with La Squadra, he is a good bet for subtly and respectfully helping you be aware of when you're starting to do it so you can quickly stop. Just a gentle nudge to your arm when you start to whisper is all it takes. He also has a lot of empathy for the fact you has to mask, since he imagines it to be like a more extreme version of how he had to invent this whole 'tough guy' personality after he got involved in the gang. He found that really hard too, so he can imagine what it must be life to do that sort of thing your whole life. At least with him, you feel less of a pressure to put on an act.

Melone- There's a certain intellectual curiosity in Melone towards the various neurodivergent conditions, compounded by a strong personal empathy now he has so many friends who have them. He is saddened by the failure of the common consensus to understand such individuals, and wants to do what he can to help them appreciate their full, unique potentials. Melone is quick to recognise your behaviour as stimming, and hence understands that the stress of being called out on it would only make it worse. He is sympathetic to your plight with masking, and has a few ideas you could try if you want to start reducing it in safe circumstances. He has heard that one barrier to unmasking can be trouble identifying the 'true self' you have to go back to, so to remedy this he asks non-critical questions that help you explore your real, unmasked personality and be comfortable in it. Whenever you go off-script and talk to him as your true-self, he praises you for it and assures you that you are just as wonderful a person to him like this.

Ghiaccio- We arrive at the first member on the list who (in my headcanon) is autistic himself. Although the mangling of verbal speech is typically annoying to him, Ghiaccio would never become angry at someone who did it because of their neurodivergence. After all, if he didn't respect the effects of your autism, what reason do you have to return the favour? Ghiaccio makes a point of not hurrying you along when you start to repeat yourself as a stimming technique, and it goes a long way with helping you be calm around him. The masking however, is a different matter. He's not going to be angry at you per say, since he knows from experience the pressure you must be facing to put on an act this way, but he very much prefers it when people are their authentic selves around him. After all, he has enough issues knowing their true intentions as it is. He won't get angry, but he will gently encourage you to open up about him, even if it's something as little as stating what you really want point-blank when you're nervous too. He is very understanding about how hard this is, however.

Risotto- Another autistic individual himself, Risotto is also perfectly empathetic to your behaviour. As an adult, he doesn't really stim, rather just faze out entirely, but at the end of the day that still gets him a lot of strange looks so he can appreciate the range of feelings you may have about your own stim. What's really great about Risotto is that he learns pretty quickly how to differentiate between your happy-stims and your stress-stims, to an extent nobody else on the team is able to. He always seems very content to see you happy-stim, warmed by the knowledge that you are feeling good right now. As for your stress-stims, he is quick to help you escape from the situation if at all possible, and hold your hand comfortingly if not. And the whole masking thing? He understands painfully well. Risotto's masking game on-point, but it irks him greatly to keep it up, not to mention that he hates the paralysing anxiety that hits him whenever he tries to unmask. Even when he wants to, he can't always be himself in front of the team. He may not have a solution for you, but he at least has his full empathy.

Sorbet and Gelato- While Sorbet is, as far as he's aware, neurotypical, Gelato is very much autistic as well. He's also got ADHD to boot, so he's well versed in the neurodivergent experience. His stim is quite similar to yours, in that he makes quiet, high-pitched, almost chirp-like noises, so he sees your echolalia as something he has in common with you. Gelato doesn't really bother with masking any more, the only exception being people who could quite literally kill him if he offended them. Though he encourages you to let go and be yourself, consequences be damned, he of course completely understands the pressure to keep masking. Sorbet, despite being neurotypical, is at this point more surrounded by autistics than not. He's been married to Gelato for the best part of the decade, his closest friend is Risotto, and he's practically Ghiaccio's dad at this point. Adding one more neurodivergent to the mix is hardly a big step, and he is very well-versed in your behaviours and how to interact with them.

[band--psycho]

The Only One Who Ever Could-Aragorn x Reader

‘So idk why this idea came upon me hahah I'm sorry it sounds so chaotic. But what if Sauron had a daughter he didn't know of? What if she's a strider herself, immortal one, and she falls for Aragorn as she helps to destroy her father and the ring. ‘ Request by one of my absolute faves @little-diable , It’s quite long, so I apologise..I got a bit carried away but I hope you enjoy this my love!❤️

Y/ns POV

 I felt like I was standing in the eye of a hurricane.Silence. that’s all that surrounded us, apart from the sound of the rain as it dreaily fell from the sky, it seemed somewhat apt considering what was about to unfold. My eyes looked out into the distance, locking on to the flickering flames of our enemies as they approached ever closer. I scanned over the faces of the men of Rohan only  to see fear and apprehension (which was entirely understandable), before my eyes landed on a young boy, no older than twelve. I couldn’t help but notice the little sparkle of hope that twinkled in his eyes. I wondered what he must’ve been thinking of, was it his parents? His siblings? His favourite memory from before the world began to darken? I had a few thoughts rushing through my brain as our enemies got even closer, the main one being Eowyns words from earlier, no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t seem to shift them from my mind. ‘You do not command the others to stay. They fight beside you because they would not be parted from you. Because they love you’, I doubt she knew how accurate her words were, nor how it sent a rush of jealousy straight to my heart. I do not know when it happened, I couldn’t pinpoint a day when I began to fall for Aragorn, it just gradually happened over the years we spent as Rangers together,  not that he knew. He was completely oblivious to how I truly felt, mainly because I’d never let him see it. Gimli and Legolas loved him like a brother, but me, I loved him in a different way all together, but I daren’t show him that. I wouldn’t risk the years of friendship we’d built. He deserved to be happy, with someone worthy of his love, maybe that was Eowyn. The other thought was a somewhat overwhelming feeling of dread, as I heard the clanking of metal and heavy footsteps draw near. We could all die here tonight. We Could die here tonight and he’d Aragorn would never know the truth, but maybe that was for the best. There was something oddly poetic about that, something that I thought could only ever be in stories, not in real life.And if we lost this battle, this world would fall back into the darkness it was in before. There would be no joy left in the world, my father would see to that but I was going to do everything in my power to make sure he didn’t crush the goodness that was still in this world.  I was dragged from my thoughts when I heard the shout of the Urukhai. This was it. Men, elves, a dunadaine, a dwarf and a maia, against at least ten thousand Urukhais. It was torture, stanidng there, listening to the Uruks growl as they taunted us with the sound of their weapons coliding with the ground or the hitting of their own armoud, again and again and again. At the sound of this, everyone on our side got their weapons ready. A sea of archers and swordsmen all awaiting the fight. Without warning an arrow was shot, hitting an Urukhai directly in the neck. As soon as its body hit the floor, there was a chorus of growls, signaling the beginning of the battle as they ran towards us. I took a deep breath, readying my daggers, before glancing over at Aragorn, my heart hammering in my chest as our eyes met and he gave me a quick and reassuring nod.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

I felt my heart swell as I noticed the boy from earlier run straight into his mothers arms, a smile beaming on both of their faces. The odds had been stacked against us and if it wasn’t for Gandlaf and the Rohirim maybe our fate would’ve been different but by some miracle, we’d won. We’d won the battle. This one at least. There was an even bigger battle coming, we all knew it, but for now, I only felt relieved. My eyes landed on Aragorn as soon as he entered the room, I was going to go over and talk to him but I thought better of it when I saw Eowyn embrace him. So I limped off to a quieter part of the old fortress, where I didn’t have to pretend that seeing him with her didn’t break my heart. I was happy for him. Happy that he’d found someone in this world that could make him happy. I was foolish to think we could ever be anything more than good friends, after all being Saurons daughter wasn’t exactly helpful, not that I was anything like him, nor was I ever like him..but that type of a title is hard to shake off; That’s why I became a Ranger,  it was quite a lonely life, but I think sometimes we both preferred it that way, or we used to. The only reason we travelled together was because we both knew it was always better to have someone watching your back and neither of us wanted to become like the other members of our family. I knew the truth about him and he knew the truth about me, he accepted me, despite my  family; but I knew now that that was only as a friend, not as a lover.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was sitting in the quieter part of the fortress, dabbing the cut on the side of my leg lightly. At first, I thought it was just a small cut, while I was fighting I’d barely even noticed it, but that must’ve been the adrenaline clouding my mind because it was quite a deep cut. 

“You’re hurt,” Aragorn stated, catching me off guard entirely. 

“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” I reassured, involuntarily wincing as I dabbed the cloth on the gash.

He sighed softly, shaking his head  as his hands gently grabbed the cloth from mine. “Let me.” If I had the energy maybe I would’ve argued, but I was too exhausted to even try, even if that meant allowing him to see the more vulnerable side of me I’d tried so desperately to hide over the years.  It was peculiar that his rough hands were so gentle as he cleaned and bandaged the cut, once it was done I expected him to go but he didn’t, he just stared at me like he was trying to work something out. 

“What?”I asked him, my voice full of confusion as he moved slightly, so he was now sitting next to me. 

“We could have died today,” he pointed out, staring off into the distance. 

“But we didn’t,” I reassured him, playfully nudging him. I saw a small smile creep onto his face, but it was gone as quickly as it arrived. 

“Aragorn? What’s wrong?” I asked him, wondering if this had something to do with the daunting realisation of the next battle. 

“I thought you’d died,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper as his eyes continued to look out into the distance. “You were right behind me one second and then, I couldn’t see you anymore and I thought you’d died.” I knew exactly how he felt. When the Urukhai blew up part of the weaker part of the fortress, I thought he’d died. I tried so desperately to reach him but there were too many Urukhais surrounding me for me to get the chance.

I turned to him slightly, so I was now facing him, “But I didn’t and besides this cut, I’m perfectly-” before I got the chance to finish that sentence he crashed his lips onto mine.I didn’t know what to think, I was so confused, I thought he was with Eowyn. Before my mind got a chance to process what was happening, he pulled away, sadness filling his eyes as confusion filled my own. 

“Why do you look so confused?” he asked, avoiding my gaze.

“You’re with Eowyn and you just kissed me,” his gaze met mie as soon as I said those words. 

“I’m not with Eowyn,” He answered, furrowing his brows slightly. His answer made my heart begin to hammer in my chest. 

“You’re not?”

“No, I think she has feelings for me, but my heart belongs to somebody else already.” I knew it was wrong to feel as much joy as I did when he said those words, but I couldn’t help the small smile that came upon my face, giving away just how I really felt. 

“And who might that be? Who’s stolen the Rangers heart?” I asked coyly, my smile turning into a smirk. A chuckle escaped his lips as he pulled me closer towards him gently, minding the cut. 

“The only one who ever could,” he whispered, our lips now inches apart from eachother.I swallow his words with my lips and I can feel him let out a sigh of relief against my mouth as our lips molded together in perfect synchronicity. His lips were coarse, as I’m sure mine probably were but neither of us cared in that moment. In that moment all I could think about was him and how he’d made all my dreams from the past few years turn into a reality. 

Tagging: @glicabhainn00 @fizzyxcustard @gwen-ever @dumbassunderthemountain

[voiceless-terror]

would you consider writing me some precanon jongeorgie angst. bc i imagine they probably bonded over their interest in the supernatural but never. you know. actually talked about their personal experiences/trauma. just give me a little of both of them handling that trauma very badly while never admitting their closest brush with the supernatural. or something. idk.

Hello anon! I haven’t written Jon/Georgie yet, but this prompt was too good to pass up. Hope you like!

Being with Georgie was easy. It shouldn’t have been, not for him.

But it was.

She carried herself with the utmost surety: of her opinions, of her feelings, of her place in the world. It wasn’t arrogance, more like confidence and something else Jon couldn’t quite put his finger on. There was a blankness in her eyes sometimes. Not an absence of feeling but an absence of...understanding, maybe. Of empathy. Georgie saw the world in black and white; she knew exactly what was right and what was wrong. She was blunt. She bulldozed over others in conversations, pointed out flaws that polite society knew to overlook and not name. Jon admired it, as much as it made him cringe.

But it was complemented by her fierce capacity for loving, her clever, teasing words, the way her fingers ran through his hair when he was stressed. That black and white view could quiet his mind like no other- ‘yes, Jon’, ‘no, Jon.’  She listened to his incessant rambling, nodding in the right places and adding her own commentary. She filled out the crosswords in the morning, her brow furrowed in concentration, colorful nails tapping at the table. She never wanted help, stubborn to a fault. Her dark skin ethereal in the morning light, the way her voice was low and croaky before her coffee. The ease with which she said ‘I love you.’ 

He remembered the day she first approached him, all ripped-tights and smudged, smoky eyeshadow. Just leaned against the wall on that chilly fall night and snatched the cigarette right from his hand, an eyebrow flicked upward as she took a drag. He couldn’t get a word out, just silently took her phone when she offered it and typed in a number with shaking hands. A year later and she was still that same girl, though he’d seen her stash of manga and her weird cat memorabilia. She was whole, real. It was comfortable.

“I’m not really sure if I should go.” They’re curled up on the couch, Jon leaning into the warm bulk of her. “All of the others are going, though.”

“It’s not like you’re close, right?” Jon’s petting the Admiral, the new addition to the household fitting in seamlessly. “I’m sure she won’t take it as an insult. You can always say you’re busy. Who was it, again? Her father?”

“Yeah.” Georgie’s shifting against him, clearly uncomfortable with the topic. It’s odd- she’s not usually so awkward about these things. If there’s something she doesn’t want to talk about, she shuts it down right away. This seems...different. “And no, not close. But everyone else is going- they want to show their support, I guess. It would be awkward if I didn’t.”

Perhaps Georgie didn’t like funerals. You’re not supposed to, of course. Maybe it was a phobia, a perfectly valid one. Plenty of people don’t like to see the reminder of death laid out before them. Jon’s been to a few in his lifetime- for his Gran’s friend, for a distant cousin.

For his parents.

He doesn’t remember his father’s, he might not have even gone. He was only two at the time. He distantly remembers his mother’s; it wasn’t well attended, he sat in the front row with his Gran. He doesn’t even remember crying, if he even realized the thing in the box was his mother, dead and gone.

Needless to say, he understands Georgie’s sentiments. “You don’t have to go, not if...not if you don’t like it. Plenty of people are uncomfortable with death-” This was the wrong thing to say, for Georgie tensed instantly, leaning away from him.

“That’s not it at all,” she says, snatching her legs out from where Jon’s leaning comfortable against them. “It’s- it’s the performance of it all. All those people standing around a body, sniffling and moaning-”

Jon tried for levity, bristling at her tone. “People grieve, they need closure-”

Georgie snorted, this time shoving him away on the couch, the Admiral jumping from Jon’s lap at the movement. Her words became impassioned, as if Jon needed to know, needed to understand. “Cremate them, then! Say a few words, scatter the ashes, whatever. But having the body on display like that?” She gets up, starts to pace. Jon’s never seen her like this. “Paint the corpse, dress it up, pretend it’s a person still but it’s not, and everyone’s just standing there around it, praying over it and watching it like it’s not just rotting meat you put lipstick on-”

“Georgie!”

“I can’t stand it.” She stops in front of him, chest heaving and eyes aflame. “What’s so monumental about it? We live, we die- and her father was old, it was bound to happen sometime. No need to make such a to-do. It’s- it’s just disgusting, is what it is.” She didn’t continue, and an awkward silence permeated the room. 

Georgie got worked up about things on occasion. But the wild look in her eye, the total sense of incomprehension was...disconcerting. He agreed with her on certain points, of course, but the vehemence behind them- something wasn’t right. But it didn’t feel right to pry, either, and Georgie surely wouldn’t appreciate it.

“You could just say you’re busy, you don’t have to go,” he tries tentatively. She seems to deflate where she stands, looking uncharacteristically vulnerable. So he stands up, taking her hand in his. She lets him, but doesn’t meet his eyes. “But if you do, I can come with you. If you’d like.”

They stand in the very back row of the church after awkwardly greeting her grieving coworker. Georgie’s nails dig painfully into his arm, but he says nothing. They leave after ten minutes and stop at an Indian buffet on the way home. He silently watches her dig into a curry, his own untouched.

___________

When she first met Jon, she thought he was utterly out of her league.

It was her first semester back at school, she was an absolute fucking mess- drinking at all hours, barely present in her classes. She was out at the bar with a few new friends, most of whom she’d already forgotten the names of, and saw him standing there under a single flickering lamp, a cigarette dangling from long, slender fingers, raven hair back in a messy bun. Not many people could pull that off but he looked almost effortlessly cool (a thing she’d later find laughable for ever thinking) in his dingy leather jacket, his eyes far away and shadowed. She wondered what made him lose sleep. He had an odd, crooked little smile on his face and she was filled with liquid courage. The look he gave her when she took that cigarette out of his hand made her knees weak, and he took the proffered phone like he was only a little impressed. She sent a text to his phone and left, so embarrassed she went straight home.

He never did text her. To be fair, she never expected him to.

But she found him not two days later, hunched over a table in the campus library. She did a double take- surely this couldn’t be him, her impossibly handsome, silent figure who she surely dreamed up. But there was no mistaking that hair, those eyes. He was smaller, somehow diminished in his baggy jumper and wire-rimmed glasses, tapping a pencil against his textbook in irritation. Before she knew it she found herself picking up her phone, sending a text to the number with no name. And sure enough, his phone buzzed.

They went out on their first date a day later.

Jon was a ball of nerves, awkward and not at all like the man she thought she met that night. Somehow, the real Jon was better. She liked the way he blushed and stammered, the way a touch of her hand left him flustered and unable to speak. The way he could talk for hours about nothing at all, making even the most dull of subjects seem interesting with that voice of his- a voice surely meant for radio or T.V., something Jon himself endlessly scoffed at whenever she brought it up. They would sit in front of the telly for hours, marathoning ridiculous ghost hunting shows and pointing out the obvious fakes. Jon had a weakness for ghost stories, just like she did. “Most of them are absolute drivel, of course,” he said.

Most of them. 

They found comfort in each other, their small island of two, had no need for other company. Georgie had never been able to relate to someone so well, not since Alex, and Jon was never fond of crowds. Three months in he tried to break up with her, saying he could never give her what ‘she needed’ but she stopped that in its tracks- Georgie would be the one who decided what she did and didn’t need, thank you very much. She liked the way he leaned into her on movie nights, like her touch was the only thing that mattered. The sincerity in his eyes whenever he complimented her in that earnest, awkward way of his. He challenged her when he thought she was wrong, sometimes their fights lasted days. But they always came back to one another, each knowing they had no one else who understood them. Was it healthy? Georgie couldn’t answer that, she didn’t know herself. Jon probably didn’t either. But she loved him, in her way. 

That night they have a few glasses of wine, and Jon’s regaling her with some ridiculous story from his youth- apparently he was somewhat of a delinquent, wandering about at all hours. She laughs in delight, imagining a small, serious Jon climbing fences and evading the law. But suddenly Jon stops, his eyes going wide and his face growing ashen as he stares unblinking at the table.

It’s a spider- a tiny thing, really. Georgie’s been seeing a lot of them lately, and she really should be better about dusting the place. But Jon- Jon looks absolutely terrified, like the thing’s bound to leap out and kill him. She opens her mouth to tease, an instinctive reaction, but is instead startled by the loud smack of a hand against the table. Jon had smashed it certainly, but he lifts his hand and stares at it in wide-eyed horror, as if whatever he sees is nine times worse than the original thing.

“Jon-”

The chair hits the ground as he stumbles to her bathroom with heavy, labored breathing. She gets up slowly, approaching as quietly as possible to find him hyperventilating against the sink, the faucet on full blast as he washes his hand- scratches it, really. He’s mumbling frantically under his breath.

“...so many legs, get off, get off-”

She makes her presence known as not to startle him, approaching from the side and gently wrapping a hand around his arm once she sees him drawing blood. He starts anyway, his movements jerky and frenzied as he rips his arm away like her touch burns.

“It’s just a spider Jon,” she says softly, lifting her hands to show she means no harm. “It’s okay, you got it, it’s dead now-”

“But what if it isn’t!” He spits, slamming his hands on the marble rim of the sink and leaving bloody prints in his wake. He’s breathing so fast she thinks he might pass out. “What if it isn’t?”

She has no answer to that.

It takes about two hours, a hot shower and a stiff drink for him to calm down. They lay on the couch, watching something stupid, mind-numbing. She runs her fingers through his hair. He always liked that. She doesn’t say a word, he’s exhausted, and she knows from experience that pushing him will just lead to another fit like before. The next day, he brings her Hungarian by way of apology. They eat in a more comfortable silence, Jon gradually warming up as the evening goes on. Still, she doesn’t ask.

She spends the weekend cleaning her flat, standing on a chair and vacuuming at the cobwebs.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28440474

[cruciology]

Familiar Need

Requested by anon: Could you do a Sandor x reader she's one of Baelish's girls and Sandy is a regular and he takes her with him after the Blackwater battle? Idk if that made sense?

You sunk the pitcher beneath the surface of the steaming water, filling it to the brim before pouring it over the Hound’s head. Setting the pitcher on the wooden table next to the tub, you grabbed the bar of soap. The Hound let you run your fingers through his hair as you straddled him, both of your naked bodies hidden under the water. His hands held your hips, absently feeling the curves of your body as you scrubbed dirt and sweat and, most likely, blood from his hair. 

You had many odd requests from customers in your time; bathing together was a perfectly normal one compared to others. But you had heard many things about the Hound. You had been afraid when he paid for your services that he would be one of the more difficult clients, someone who took pleasure in hurting you, seeing you bruised or beaten. So you had been surprised when he had asked you to bathe with him. It seemed so innocent. What followed after was nothing but, but every time was the same. Every time, he wanted the same thing. Every time, he asked for you by name. 

He took the soap from you, taking his turn to wash you with his large hands. His thumb traced your nipple, making you suck in a short breath. In your line of work, you didn’t meet a lot of people that could make you do that. That was something else that surprised you when the Hound had first come to you. You assumed he would be like any other client, tossing some coins at you and finishing as soon as they could get their cock into you. But the Hound liked to take his time. He liked to hear you moan his name, to feel you come undone around him. 

You toyed with the thick, dark hair that covered his chest as he ran his hands across your back. You leaned in, placing a kiss on his scarred cheek first, then his lips. 

“Almost didn’t think you were going to come see me tonight,” you said. You knew how you sounded. Needy. But you had come to look forward to the Hound’s visits. The first time he had chosen you, you had been frightened, but that was over a year ago. You knew him much better than that now. “You haven’t been here in days.”

“Been busy,” He said shortly. He tucked away a strand of your hair that had fallen loose from where you had tied it up. It was hard to believe that the hands that had taken the lives of so many men could be so gentle with you. The other women in the brothel were terrified of him. They didn’t understand how you could let him touch you, let alone how you could look forward to it. It wasn’t a secret that he was a killer and that he took pleasure in it, but that wasn’t the side he showed to you. You often found yourself aching for his touch. Like right then, when you sat on top of his thick cock, hard and waiting. You could easily adjust yourself and have him fill you, but you only had to wait a bit longer. 

“Been busy a lot since dear King Joffrey took the throne,” you said with no attempt to hide your disdain. 

“Keeping that little shit alive is a lot of work,” the Hound grumbled. He would never speak ill of his charge with anyone but you. He wasn’t stupid. 

“Is it true what they’re saying?” You asked. “About King Robert’s brother coming with an army?” 

“Do you really want to talk of battles and war?” The Hound asked, dropping the bar of soap into the empty pitcher on the table. 

“I don’t care much for war, no, but I do like to be informed,” You said. “It’s not a secret that Lord Stannis has no love for women in my profession.” 

“You do sound informed.” 

“If we manage to survive the attacks, I fear I don’t know what he’ll do with us afterwards, the godless whores.” It was a bit of a hot topic in the last few days. You had to assure the other girls that you were positive things would be alright despite having little optimism yourself. 

The Hound kissed your collar bone, then your throat, moving to your jaw, and finally kissing your lips. His hand caressed your cheek, his finger tips burying in your hair. He pulled your hair down, the ends of it grazing the water just slightly as it fell down around your shoulders. You traced your thumb along the burned side of his face as you kissed him back. He used to hate being touched there, thinking that it must disgust you like it did everyone else. Now, he enjoyed the feel of your soft hands against the ruined flesh. 

“Nothing will happen to you,” The Hound promised, his lips still on yours. 

“You can be so sure?” You asked. 

He stood up, holding you tightly against him with just one arm. Sometimes you thought he just liked to show off how strong he really was, but you didn’t really mind. You liked how easy it was for him to hold you. He stepped out of the brass tub, still dripping water. Taking you to the other side of the large room, he pressed you onto the fur blanket on the bed. In one quick thrust, he was fully inside of you. You never could quite get used to his size, it always made you gasp. Normally, he liked to take his time, exploring all of your body before entering you, but he seemed to know how badly you needed to feel him, all of him. 

“I’m sure,” He said, kissing you roughly. He took both your hands in his, drawing them up above your head and pinning them. His free hand slid down your body, following your curves to the point where your bodies met. He rubbed your clit with his thumb, making you arch into him, your eyes squeezing shut. 

“Sandor,” You gasped out. His grip on your hands tightened and his speed quickened. Each thrust of his hips slammed into you, making you feel closer to the breaking point. He knew exactly how to make you come undone. The stars of light burst behind your eyelids, your chest heaving as you came. The Hound released his grip on your hands, holding himself up on his elbows as he pushed into you almost violently. 

You pushed him back, rolling him over onto his back and catching him by surprise. He held your hips to guide your rhythm. It was his favorite way to fuck you. He was so much larger than you, he worried you’d be crushed under his weight. With you on top of him, he could focus on how good your pussy felt. You liked being able to watch his face as you fucked him. You liked seeing his eyes squeeze shut as he felt you slide up and down his hard cock. You liked the feel of him digging his fingers into your ass. You steadied yourself with your hands on his chest, rolling your hips against him. 

“Fuck,” The Hound growled as you rode him. He squeezed tighter to you and you knew that meant he was close. He would pull out of you just in time to finish on your thigh with a grunt, but very suddenly, you didn’t want that. You moved your hands over his where they still held you. 

“Finish in me,” You said. You heard him curse again before you felt him shudder, filling you with his hot seed. 

His chest heaved as you got off of him. You rested your head on his shoulder, finally feeling the cool night air on your still slightly damp skin. You lay in silence for a long time, just listening to his breathing. 

“You’re that afraid that you’re going to die?” He asked finally. 

“I wanted to feel all of you,” You said. You could still feel him inside of you, not just the dull but pleasant ache he always left, but also the stickiness creeping down your thighs. “Don’t leave tonight.” 

“I can’t-,” 

“Sandor,” You said, lifting yourself onto your elbow. He studied your face as you looked down on him. “Please, stay.” He didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed you by the waist, pulling you back on top of him. You laid your head on his chest, letting him pull the blanket over both of you. 

Stupid. You were bloody stupid. You should be down in the basement with the rest of the girls, but instead, you were up in the brothel alone. Even Littlefinger was nowhere to be found. If he could be counted on for anything, it would be saving his own skin. 

You were only out of hiding out of sickening curiosity. You heard rumors of wildfire. You figured you would be safe enough, with the battle being mostly on the shores. If you had just stayed inside, watching from the safety of your room, you would have been fine. It was when you decided to step outside of the brothel. 

You weren’t even ten steps away from the door when you were pulled so hard you feared your arm would pop out of its socket. You immediately shoved back, but when the dagger pressed to your throat, all attempts to fight back were quieted. 

You couldn’t tell where the man had come from, what side he was on. It didn’t really matter. Both had bad men and any man threatening you with a blade was bad in your book. You were sure you knew exactly what he wanted from you. A man coming to a whorehouse wanted one thing. 

“Let’s step inside,” He said, smiling with a rotten mouth, reeking of ale. His weapon was still pressed to your skin. If you so much as breathed too heavily, you would bleed. 

“Please,” You said. “Just lower your dagger.” 

“How do I know you won’t run?” The man asked, keeping his dagger exactly where it was.

“Where is there to run in all of this?” You asked him. As if to make your point, a flash of green fire burst to the chorus of screams. 

Looking satisfied with that answer, the man pulled his dagger away from you, his hand still tightly on your arm. But with a flash of silver, his grip went slack and he was suddenly relieved of his head. It was your turn to scream. 

But your terror only lasted a moment when you realized who the sword belonged to. 

“Sandor!” You cried in relief, throwing you arms around the Hound’s neck. He hugged you back, lifting you off the ground, holding you so tightly you could barely breathe. “Are you alright? Why are you here? You should be-,” 

“I know where I should be,” The Hound said, setting you back on your feet. “And it’s not in that fucking castle.” 

“Won’t you be in trouble for abandoning the king?” 

“I’ll be in more trouble for telling him to go fuck himself,” The Hound said. You let out a surprised laugh. “I’m leaving. Tonight. Right now.” 

“What?” You felt as if you had been slapped. “Where?”

“Don’t fucking know, but I’m going,” He said. He grabbed one of your hands with his, dwarfing it. You always felt so small next to him. Small, but safe. Always safe. “Come with me.”

You studied his face. He knew what he was asking. This wasn’t a fleeting feeling. You belonged to Littlefinger just as much as the Hound belonged to the King. You would be stealing yourself away, but it would be in good company. 

You squeezed his hand and nodded. 

[gwyns]

I'm surprised I haven't seen anyone draw parallels between Feyre leaving Tamlin for her Mate to Elain leaving Azriel for her Mate. (Ignoring the fact I hate Rhysand, the books obviously want me to think he's the best person ever so I'll just pretend). Because that's what I see happening.

Elain and Azriel are so clearly rebounds for one another. Elain's still grieving her human love and life, and Azriel is still hung up on Mor. They're both quiet and available, so they jump to each other. That's it. The Azriel POV was purely about what he wants. How he wants to fuck her and taste her. He's just sex to her.

Even if E/riels had a more convincing case, it's not like SJM hasn't pulled a SIKE on us before. If she goes anywhere with E/riel, she'll undoubtedly pull it back. SJM doesn't take Mating bonds lightly, and she's stated that she loves Lucien. And if anyone deserves the happiness of a bond, it's him.

Feyre and Rhys, and Cassian and Nesta, all had relationships/lovers before Mating. Elain "liking" Az now, (which we're not even clear on), doesn't really mean much.

I'd like to hear your thoughts! You're so good at this, and you always explain my thoughts so perfectly. Love and light 💕💕💕

honestly there are quite a few feysand/elucien parallels that people either don't see or choose to ignore.

rhysand was first presented as a villain to feyre, the same could be applied to lucien just bc of his envolvement with tamlin (that he wrongfully gets blamed for btw idk why e/riels love blaming tamlin's mistakes on lucien). feyre was engaged before she went to rhys, elain was engaged before she met lucien. both were/are? still hung up on their former fiances. feysand as a couple represents the night, elucien would represent (at least in part) day. it's literally night and day with them. they're similar but also wholly their own pairing, it's fascinating to me.

anyway i think i will use this ask to spill some of my e/riel opinions sorry about that! alright let's start off with this controversial statement: i don't think e/riel was ever meant to be endgame.

i've seen it said a few times over the years that sarah changed her mind about elucien and while that's possible bc she also previously changed her mind on lucien and nesta one has to ask themselves..... if she wanted to write a mate bond rejection why didn't she stick with her original plan of lucien and nesta being mates? she's said herself that they wouldn't work but she chose to change lucien's mate to someone who compliments him better, and it's to feyre's other sister no less. that tells me lucien is important and powerful, he's mated to one of the sisters, one of the key players of the entire series.

another point is we can assume (and we could be wrong, let me put this here before someone yells at me or vague blogs about it) that sjm had an elucien endgame in mind when writing acowar, right? and when she was touring for that book hadn't she already started work on acofas? and we know that she's never on social media, so if she had an elucien endgame in mind when she wrote all of the supposed e/riel "evidence" where does that leave us?

drama. tension. conflict. angst.

i think that's what it all comes down to. people will say that elucien was a front while e/riel is the true endgame but... it all seems a bit easy, doesn't it? e/riel is right in your face while elucien is silently brewing in the background. what if the bait and switch isn't elucien, but e/riel?

sarah has shown us before that she likes to use her characters as ways for her other characters to end up with their endgame matches. for example, without tamlin, feyre wouldn't have met rhys. and moving over to throne of glass for a second, if not for chaol, aelin wouldn't have met rowan. and in turn, if aelin hadn't given yrene the money she needed in tab, chaol wouldn't have met her.

are the e/riel scenes romantically coded? yes, probably. i'm not saying they aren't, some people picked up on it but i personally didn't get that vibe myself, especially in acowar, but acofas kinda blurred the lines a bit. but even then, i didn't think they'd work out and i still don't understand the arguments that are supposed to be in their favor from that book. elain says she doesn't want a male so that excludes lucien but not azriel somehow? that line means she doesn't want any fae, she wants a human man, she wants graysen. then we have lucien saying he can't even stand to be in the same room as elain which i never read as a "oh i hate this person" kinda way. no, it's bc the whole situation between them is awkward and it obviously makes both of them uncomfortable. it doesn't help when literally all of the inner circle is constantly around them, and being in the night court in general doesn't give them the privacy to get to know each other.

some people like to ask why build e/riel up at all if they're not going to be together? one thing i've always loved about sjm's books is how she can write relationships. now, let's say you meet someone irl and you like them, eventually maybe fall in love with them, and fail to notice how they're not good for you. maybe everyone around you can see it, but you don't. you want a relationship and you're in a decent one, it should work out. like they're not a bad person, this relationship just isn't right for you in the long run. why waste your time? it's life. sometimes things are good for you at a certain point in time but not later on. sometimes you just end up in a relationship that was never good for you. sometimes you fall out of love with someone. you're constantly learning and adapting to things and that's my stance on e/riel. i think they're both looking for companionship and they're the "safest" and most available option.

taking it back to acofas, azriel was relived to not have to get elain a gift and was still gazing longingly at mor. now in acosf he's avoiding talking about her while wanting to fuck elain and getting defensive when helion mentions mor. he's not over her. he's not going to just completely forget 500 years of pining bc elain showed up, especially when they haven't even helped one another to move on. if they had, we would have seen the proof of that. not just "oh she's hot we both want sex", that doesn't make a healthy relationship.

as for elain, she's been taught she has to act a certain way her entire life. she has to downplay her trauma and emotions to appease others so they don't worry about her. maybe she's even had visions involving lucien that upset/scare her somehow and she's reaching out for something else. i think they're both lonely and desperate (at least on az's end) for someone that they ultimately are drawn to the wrong people.

as for the lack of elucien development... this is how i see it. if they're endgame, why would sarah have all of their big moments happen off screen or as a throwaway line in acosf? elain is getting a book, we know this, and with how much of the story is tied to lucien and how much is left unresolved with him, we can also assume he'd get a pov at some point. so imo it makes sense for the fact we got little to no development for them in acosf. no, she wants a huge wedge between them so we can watch them come together. the payoff will be that much sweeter. kinda similar to how she put a wedge between nessian before acosf, sure they had more development in acowar than elucien but i think that's bc sarah knew they'd get the first spinoff. she had to give them that development whereas elucien can wait, a bit longer. it's frustrating yes but i do think we'll get something in acotar 5.

maybe i'm an optimistic fool, maybe sarah did at one point have an endgame in mind for them, but i find it hard to believe she wouldn't see how wrong they are for each other in the long run. she's very good at showing us how well characters fit together with just a few lines.

[wowsoboring]

A rant about Fanon!Romione

Well, since I’ve read quite a bit of Romione fan fic in my life now, I noticed a theme of character mistakes/weird things in general that i dislike about fanon!romione/fanfic!romione. So let’s get into it. the list goes (in no particular order):

Dominant/straightforward Ron: I don’t read much explicit stuff so i’ll largely talk about mature/teen rated stuff. I don’t understand how Ron will be straightforward, direct and dominant with Hermione ever, unless he was either under the influence or like a completely different character. Ron is very shy. he is brave, yeah. but bravery can still leave you awkward, introverted and insecure (see: Neville). So Ron ever making the first move sounds weird to me. By first move I mean first kiss, first sexual encounter etc. this doesn’t extend to heartfelt stuff like “i love you” or proposing because by that time, with Hermione, Ron would have enough confidence to do that. However, in the beginning stages there is no chance of him just saying “i love you” to her out of nowhere or kiss her in as early as Half-Blood Prince. Need I remind you, Hermione initiates the first kiss. Hermione might be insecure but she is much more confident than Ron is in making the first move. So yeah, low chance of Ron randomly kissing her, telling her his feelings for her etc out of nowhere. That would probably be led by a conversation initiated by Hermione which led to some encounter. Ron himself initiating any of this is far fetched in the Hogwarts era.

Hermione’s always right: I believe how fanfics treat Hermione in so many Romione fics has caused me to dislike her in fanon (i still like her in canon), because again, even if she does messed up, questionable things in canon/fics, she will never be held accountable and will always come up with some excuse and gaslight Ron into apologizing. I’ve seen this so many times: Hermione behaves poorly- making snap judgements in AUs, jumping to conclusions and not listening to anyone else, saying extremely mean shit to Ron in certain arguments etc etc. but she’s never held accountable. We forget that she kissed Krum in 4th year (gross! btw) and continued sending him letters in front of Ron to make him jealous. We forget very conveniently that Hermione also does anything she can do in her power to make Ron jealous. Even saying stuff like “I only like good quidditch players.” which is so rude and uncalled for. She sure does make Ron jealous, however there is a good chance she increases his level of insecurities way more and as a result, pushes him away. She also attacks him with canaries- that is actual physical violence, right? But in fanfic, its Ron who will apologize for dating Lavender or Yule Ball or something. Hermione will ridicule Ron for being jealous, though. I have seen fics where Hermione almost gets with Ron, then deserts him and goes snogging other guys but since it’s written from her pov, she always gets away with it. Y’all know Ron wouldn’t get away with this!

Fanon!Hermione is like Movie Hermione: i think at various points, fanon!Hermione reminds me of movie!Hermione because of how excellent she’s portrayed to be in these fanfics. Now Ron is mostly written as Book!Ron which I can appreciate, of course. However, Movie!Hermione is not suitable for literally anyone. She’s too much of a Mary Sue. If you made eye contact with Movie!Hermione you’d explode from how bloody perfect she is. If you dated Movie!Hermione, you’d just feel like shit because you wouldn’t be even comparable to her. In essence, Fanon!Hermione is always perfect in every regard:  she is emotionally intelligent, romantic, everything and everything that she isn’t in the books.

Ron is a bit of a perv: seriously, most of these fanfics include Ron being a weird pervert, just constantly having sex dreams about Hermione, wanking in the shower etc which is perfectly fine. Some even have him stealing her underwear and shit like what the hell is this? This is Ron Weasley! I’m sure teenagers are sexually frustrated sometimes, I would know, I AM one, but come on, this isn’t even hot. Otherwise it’s just Ron ogling Hermione and it’s written as if he’s a pervert. If it’s the other way round, no one even seems to mind! Now Hermione doesn’t really mind this in the fanfics but I still cant get around this.

Convenient perceptions: people in fanfics have made quite a few convenient perceptions, especially for Hermione. Most fics suggest that Hermione didn’t kiss Krum and that Krum kissed her. Ginny practically describes it as snogging. Now Ginny might be exaggerating- it could’ve been a one sided kiss, it could have been a mutual peck. But it’s almost always one sided. IDK just sounds like you’re writing up a narrative to make her look like an innocent person and Ron look like an asshole.