#jealous-pated

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[ratinayellowbandana]

Hi! Number six of the drabble prompt list, and if I may suggest, with a sad jealous Laudna.

hi! I'm sorry this one took a few days. I um. got a little carried away with it again. these were only supposed to be like 500-word prompt fills, and this is uh, slightly more than that. so I hope that's ok.

for those who don't want to find the prompt, it was: "You just didn't look for me." naturally I went ep 64 with a healthy splash of canon divergence, some good old-fashioned hurt/comfort, and pate as a thinly veiled metaphor.

length: 2k

~~~

Laudna whirls on her, snaps, “We looked for you. And the others. Every fucking day.” She holds Imogen’s gaze, holds her piercing stare until Imogen tilts her head. “You just didn’t look for me,” she whispers. 

Imogen steps forward, quiet but insistent. “No, sweetheart, no, we did. I did. Every day.” She does not reach out, afraid, not of Laudna–never of Laudna–but of herself. Of what she might do if given the chance at the wrong time. Her heart pounds an unsteady rhythm.

“I want to believe you,” Laudna says. She toys with the brass ring on her left hand, twisting it around her finger anxiously, twin snakes coiling. “I do, truly, it’s just…” 

Imogen studies her, searching for answers in a frame both foreign and familiar. Laudna is pale and gaunt, cheeks drawn in, though that’s hardly unusual. Her stringy dark hair lacks luster in the eerie light of the red moon, crispy and clumped together in places by something Imogen can’t identify. Cast in the long shadows between buildings, Laudna is on edge, ready to claw and screech and lash out with those wicked talons if provoked. She is wild, and she is beautiful, and she is frightened.  

“I understand,” Imogen speaks slowly, gently, distinctly aware of each word’s weight. 

The others are still in the inn, consorting in the tavern. The Hells and their new friends, chatting, laughing, and drinking the night away, simply happy to be home. Introductions were made, and tales of grandeur waited to be spun. 

Laudna had been unnervingly quiet after the initial elation wore off. Her hands remained folded in her lap or picked intently at the skin around her nails. Pâté’s silence was even more concerning. He had been coaxed out of hiding in Laudna’s hair with the promise of scratches and nudged his beak into her wrist until she began stroking his greasy fur. 

She spoke when spoken to, adjusting in her seat and responding eagerly when prompted. The moment the attention shifted, though, her forced smile would drop. Every so often, she sent a furtive glance in Imogen’s direction as if to ensure she was still there, then looked away just as quickly. Exhaustion crept at the corners of her eyes, and her gaze would fall to her lap whenever the conversation turned to the adventures in Wildemount. 

The group from Issylra hadn’t said much about their travels, but Imogen gathered their transplantation had not been as, ah, pleasant wasn’t quite the right word. Illustrious, maybe, Imogen considered, fussing with a seam on her new dress. Laudna’s blouse was tattered and stained with a thick substance that did not match her ichor’s usual viscosity. 

Laudna had stood abruptly, muttering something about air, and disappeared outside. After making puzzled eye contact with Ashton, who tossed his head at the door and sighed heavily, Imogen followed her. 

She had found Laudna around the corner, curled into herself against the wall of the Spire by Fire. A feral thing, hardened and reshaped by whatever circumstances found her while they were apart. 

She has not calmed yet, and Imogen is reluctant to curb the swell of emotion that has Laudna dangling by a thread. She is tangled in it, ensnared in a knotted web, and Imogen is unsure how to extricate her. She is all jagged pieces and raw edges, a tempest of fury and loss that Imogen cannot rely on her mental connection to unravel. Laudna is something of a mystery to her now in a way she has never been, and it’s all Imogen can do to not toss her circlet to the winds. 

Instead, she waits. 

Laudna is muttering to herself, tugging at her clothes. Pâté flaps about her head, wings of sinew and bone making an abominably wet sound Imogen hadn’t realized she’d missed. The tip of one wing tangles in Laudna’s hair, and she swats at him irritably, sending him tumbling through the air until he manages to right himself. Imogen extends a hand, and he flies to her, settling in her palm on his hindquarters. He gives a disgruntled shake, and his wings squelch back into his body, tail coming to rest around his paws. He peers up at Imogen, then looks back to Laudna.  

“I tried,” he croaks in that gravelly way of his, and Imogen strokes his disgusting little head with one finger. 

“I know,” she assures gently. He could be referring to any number of moments across a lifetime, a few weeks, mere seconds ago. She sets him on her shoulder and feels pinprick claws pierce the fabric of her dress for stability. Crass and wretched as he is, Imogen can’t find it in herself to hate him. He is an extension of his maker, creepy and ungainly and off-putting, so Imogen must love him a tiny bit. She scratches under his chin, ignores the feeling of magic-touched bone, murmurs, “Thank you for keepin’ her safe.”

“Boss didn’t have the best of times without you.” He pipes up, a little rueful, in a manner Imogen assumes is meant to be quiet. Laudna, only a few feet away, catches it.

“Pâté,” she snarls. He squeaks and tucks himself into Imogen’s collar. 

“He’s just confirming what I had already guessed,” Imogen defends, an attempt at lightness that doesn’t quite land. “It’s not his fault you haven’t told me anything.” 

“He ought to have stayed in my head. Then he might leave well enough alone,” Launda warns. 

“You don’t mean that,” Imogen counters calmly. 

Laudna spits, “He should have stayed dead.”

“Hey.” 

She huffs a sardonic, dry laugh. “Not everyone deserves second chances.” 

Imogen inhales sharply.

There it is. 

“Laudna…” She softens. She cups Pâté protectively. His fur oddly damp against her skin. She takes a cautious step forward. 

The pieces begin slotting into place, building the frame for a jarring picture of something severe enough to reopen this old wound. 

The fight sapped from her limbs, Laudna slides her back down the wall until she sits in the filth and dirt of the alleyway with her knees drawn close to her chest. Imogen winces as rough stone drags across jutting bone and paper-thin skin. 

“Are you… Do you want to be alone?” She asks–because what else can she do?– and half-fears the answer. 

Laudna’s head jerks up, and something Imogen can’t decipher flashes in her eyes. After a moment, her head shakes minutely, and Imogen lets out a relieved sigh. 

Tense silence leaches from the pores of the building’s rocky exterior.  

“We tried to find you all. Every day. We didn’t–we didn’t know where we were. Where anyone was, and–” Laudna breathes at last. “Orym was… was angry. Vengeful. And Ashton…. He was our friend.”

“Ashton?”

“I hurt him,” Laudna continues as if Imogen hadn’t spoken at all.

“Hurt who?” 

She shudders. “I killed him, not Prism.” Inky tears well from eyes pressed shut. Her voice is impossibly soft, hollow, seeming to ask, Do you hate me yet?

The narrative is convoluted at best. Imogen fruitlessly attempts to splice together the fragments of memory slipping through Laudna’s teeth like snowflakes, to arrange them into a cohesive whole among the scraps she gathered at the table. The Issylra group returned rattled, apprehensive and tense, but this is deeper. Laudna is shaken. 

“Wasn’t he a member of the Ruby Vanguard?” 

“He was confused, just like the rest of us. Angry at the gods.” Laudna’s eyes flicker to the glowing red moon. Her fist, clenched in her hair, tightens. “And I killed him.” 

Imogen steps closer. “We’ve all killed people.”

Laudna shakes her head. Her voice hardens once more. “I don’t begrudge you the shopping or fraternizing with royalty or, or whatever else it was,” she says lowly, “But we didn’t have that. We didn’t save a toy store or home-cooked breakfasts. We spent every moment fighting to get back to you. And now,” she swallows, “we must reckon with the cost.” 

She is utterly exhausted; Imogen can see in the dim light. Although bone-weary and at her wits’ end, Laudna’s elegant cheekbones curl with shadows that twist and hide in her skirts. Hunched and fearful as she is, Laudna is still hauntingly beautiful. Something warms in Imogen’s chest. 

“You did what you had to do to survive,” she says, “No one can fault you for that.” 

“I’m sorry.” Laudna’s voice breaks, fracturing in tandem with Imogen’s heart, and she sobs. “I’m sorry.”

“No, Laud, no–” Imogen crouches next to her, yearning to touch, to take Laudna in her arms and bite and hiss and growl at anyone who dares approach. She restrains herself, carefully plucking Pâté from her shoulder and setting him on the ground between them. He turns to her skeptically as if to say, Really? After what she said? Imogen nudges him in Laudna’s direction. He sniffs, beak in the air, and ruffles his fur before bounding to Laudna’s ankles and putting his weird, cold little dead rat toes against her shin. She ignores the pawing fragment of her soul, ashamed. 

“I’m sorry,” Laudna mutters, “I must seem…I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.” 

Laudna begins incredulously, “I–”

“You survived,” Imogen reiterates, “against gods and people powerful enough to destroy them.” She sighs, “I sent you a message every day, you know? Sometimes more than once, if I’m honest, ‘till my nose bled and Deanna had to patch me up.” Imogen offers a half-smile. “All I got was static. I just had to hope you were out there, somewhere, lookin’ for me, too.” 

Laudna looks as if she might melt into herself, refusing to look at Imogen. Her shoulders shake, and she confesses with a gasp, “She’s back. I brought her back.” 

Imogen’s blood chills, but her tone remains neutral. “Who, Laud?” 

At last, Laudna meets her gaze, eyes wide and wet and horror-struck. “Delilah.”

The name hangs between them like a stone ready to drop and shatter and bury itself into their flesh. Searing rage erupts in Imogen’s veins. 

“I’m sorry,” Laudna shrinks back, “I’m so sorry. To all of you. You all gave so much to–to find me. And–”

“It’s not your fault,” Imogen interjects.

“–and I wasn’t…I was weak. I lost control.” 

“Laudna,” Imogen cuts her off with the steely calm of a thunderstorm on the horizon. She cannot afford to process this now, not when Laudna is trembling in an alley. Not when Laudna, unmoored and terrified, needs her to be an anchor. No, Imogen will save her questions and unfiltered anger, for another time. A time when Laudna is safe and warm and at no risk of coming unraveled in her hands. When Laudna is in a place to know Imogen’s wrath is not, could never be, directed at her.

“Laudna,” Imogen repeats, because she cannot bear the thought of her not understanding, “this is not your fault. None of this.” She does reach out, then, offering a lifeline should Laudna choose to accept it. She does, hesitantly, as if waiting for Imogen to recoil. Her fingers are cool, bird-light against Imogen’s red-scarred palm. Laudna seems to notice at the same time.

“Imogen,” she exclaims, words still tear-tinged and quivering, “your hands. They’re–are you alright?”

“Oh, they–they don’t hurt, usually. Promise. I’m fine.”

“I should have–I’m sorry, I suppose I was–”

“Laudna,” Imogen interrupts again, not unkindly, “please.” 

It’s then that Laudna seems to notice Pâté clawing his way up her skirt. She scoops him up and holds him to her, murmuring apologies into his fur.

“‘S’okay, boss,” he rasps, squished against his maker’s chest, “I can’t hold a grudge.”

They sit like that, hand-in-hand, hand-on-rat, until the easy stroke of Imogen’s thumb against Laudna’s has smoothed out the worst of the jagged edges. Until the tension falls from Laudna’s spine and she relaxes into Imogen’s touch. 

“The others are surely wondering where we’ve gone.”

Imogen shrugs, snorts, “There’re so many people at that table I think they’d hardly notice two missing.”

“Still,” Laudna says, “we ought to get back.”

“Do you want to?” It’s her choice. It always will be if Imogen can help it.

Laudna considers. “I think I’d rather like to hear the end of Chetney’s story from the Savalirwood.”

“Oh gods,” Imogen groans, flushing at the memory, “no, you don’t.” 

“Fearne and Deanna, hm?” 

“Best to let them tell it.”

[jadequarze]

HOUND OF ILL OMEN HEADCANON

The Hound is a representation of Laudna's repressed feelings. Like Pate is her Horny Thoughts, Hound is her Romantic Thoughts :D

It's just so funny thinking about it hurgajuaahs,, That it takes being jealous of her own dog that made her realize it, not people. But an Ill Omen hound of her own making.

The dog be like, "If you're not going to make a move, I WILL," and proceeds to be all cuddly and affectionate towards Imogen. Who is very weak for animals (her weakness in my hc)

[apocketfullofpoesis]

topic of rant: the unnecessary hatred that "toppers" get

don't even get me started on the whole stereotyped notion that people have towards students who are nailing it, esp in a brown household and society.

1. Do you understand what a 9 CGPA is? THAT TOO IN ESTEEMED GOVERNMENT UNIVERSITIES??? THAT TOO, THE MAIN CAMPUS??? no. You don't. you also don't know how a 9.0 is generalized in a middle class Indian household. it is excruciating that you keep running your arse against sand paper and when nobody takes interest in knowing how much you scored and you go and show them on your own, they be like "I knew you could do it" like?????? 😃 YOU DID NOT KNOW IT. WHILE I WAS STUDYING YOU KEPT COMPLAINING HOW I DONT HELP YOU WITH THE HOUSEHOLD CHORES AND JUST KEPT MYSELF BUSY WITH MY BOOKS. YOU DID NOT KNOW SHIT FAMILY. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU TOOK INTEREST IN MY ACADEMIC ACHIEVEMENTS DO YOU KNOW THE RESPECT IVE GAINED IN THE EYES OF THE BEST PROFESSORS AND HOW THE WORST ONES KEEP TARGETTING ME??? but you knew it.

2. I keep seeing these reels wherein the so called influencers act like "toppers" (BECAUSE THEY CAN ONLY ACT LIKE ONE) and do the stereotyped scene of how toppers lie about how they're studying. DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE EVIL EYE THINGY? ITS BECAUSE OF PEOPLE LIKE THESE INFLUENCERS WE DONT BOAST ABOUT OUR SCHEDULE BECAUSE IT SCARES US BECAUSE AT THE END OF THE DAY WE ARE INDIANS AND SOMEWHERE IN OUR HEARTS THESE KINDA SUPERSTITIONS ARE DEEPLY-ROOTED. Aur kahi toh tumlog "Nazar shit is real" kehke cool ban jate ho what happens to y'all while talking about this??? Fucking hypocrites.

3. It is appreciable if you work hard on yourself and rise from say, a 4 gpa to an 8.5, in Desi terms, "zero se hero banna" BUT DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HERO BANE REHNA IS AN EMOTIONALLY DRAINING JOB?? NO.

4. "Are tum to B.A wale ho." NAHI, HM WO LOG H JINHONE APNI POTENTIAL KE HISAB SE APNE INTERESTS KO CONSIDER KARTE HUYE EK CAREER CHOOSE KIYA WHERE WE'RE NAILING IT. unlike you, jo drop leke kuch naa ukhaad paane ke baad bhi "at least I tried" bolke pvt colleges me admission leke ek 8 bhi nahi laa pate. unlike you, we don't regret our choice, unless it wasn't your choice iykyk.

5. "But nobody forced you to throw yourself into too much study." Sis, unlike you, we're actually trying to improve ourselves and manage to at least excel at one good thing. unlike you, we're actually doing something to make our lives better. unlike you, we don't whore around the campus and club during the entire semester only to cry during exams and give excuses based on baseless criticism of the "toppers" of whom we're just insecure and jealous because they're actually good.

6. It is exhausting. The entire process. Esp when you don't get appreciated enough. This feeling of insecurity and envy is everywhere among everyone we're surrounded with. People think we must be proud. But even if we are, is there something wrong with it? They are ready to criticize us the moment we suffer a minute downfall. Remember Shylock's monologue from The merchant of Venice? Replace the Jew and Christian words with topper and average/below average students. It's that deep. If mocking us behind our backs and bitching about us when some of us are really kind and try to mingle with you, help you out - gives you peace, so be it. But please do not stereotype our efforts like that. Do not spread anymore negative emotions towards us. It honestly doesn't help any better.

[nerinefy]

. . . A LIFE WITH HIM ; THE OLDER BROTHERS VER.

— prompt: how will these boys be like as your partner?

— note: pronouns: you/yours | headcanon | fluff | lower case intended

- open! open! open! ; the younger brothers ver.

physical affection ; (giving and receiving.)

lucifer!

- he gives in more on back hugs, especially in the mornings. big spoon on high-energy days and maybe he can let you spoon him if he's just that tired.

- he loves loves loves holding your hand, as it is the most subtle yet most affirming and endearing form of affection he knows he can give. lowkey a silent threat to the demons who thinks they might have a chance with you.

- in spite of his stoic and level-headed surface, when feeling a bit bashful or sappy, he'd hold one of your hands and place your palm on his cheek as he reminisces about the happy memories he's had with you. this side of him remains mostly if he's that drunk.

- when given the chance or if ever he's in a not so good mood, he likes letting you fluff and pet his wings while you sit on his lap as he wraps them around you. this occasionally happens as this is probably the most vulnerable state he can be with you.

mammon!

- will always lock fingers with you, wherever and whenever. he's greedy, and he ain't having chances with other guys even bothering to flirt with you.

- though when he's feeling a little jealous or insecure, most of the time he visits your room (maybe during times that you're asleep already.) and just scooches in and holds your body firmly close to his. just don't be surprised if you wake up with a snoring mammon in front of you, and please make sure to comfort him, he's trying his best really!

- pats, pats, and lots of pats! head pats to be exact. whether it's you giving head pats or him giving head pats, he just feels really warm and fuzzy inside whenever he's the patter or patee. he knows that it's kinda childish but come on give this man a chance lol.

- whenever watching a movie on the couch or just lying down or sitting down there, he always lies his head on your shoulder. don't ask him why, he just wants to be closer to you every chance he gets.

leviathan!

- now I ain't got much to say about him since he isn't really big on physical affection, but the one thing that makes him like really giddy is when you give him forehead kisses, especially the part where you sweep his bangs out of the way and just hold him close before smooching his forehead. there's just something simple yet loving with the way you do that to him, plus, it's an extra confidence boost for him!

- the only other time he initiates or when you have the chance to get close to him is when he's gaming. yes for the first time he has lost several games because he's too distracted by the fact that you're too close for comfort, but as time goes it becomes more of your thing, now that this time, it's not just a body pillow anymore that he's holding close to him, it's you.

gift-giving ;

lucifer!

- he most likely gifts you charms or small accessories personalized with something that may remind you of him.

mammon!

- more on clothes, accessories, or jewelry, even better if you two are matching.

leviathan!

- personalized accessories or plushies with your favourite anime or franchise.

simple gestures ;

lucifer!

- whenever you're stuck on a really hard project and it's very late already, he'd always prepare a snack for you, let's say maybe tea paired with some biscuits barbatos baked that he have brought home just a while ago. will sometimes come with a note reading 'Now let's not be too hard on ourselves, I'm sure that task will certainly be manageable, just don't forget to sleep too or else you can never really finish what you're doing.'

mammon!

- would come home with baked treats he'd bought and share them with you, as he believes good food will bring people together no matter what.

leviathan!

- will sometimes sew a small plush or accessory for you that he styled with only you in mind.

word affirmations ;

lucifer!

- "Yes, I know it may not be tolerable right now, but I know you better than that, no matter what that is it will always be something you can overcome."

mammon!

- "What're ya doing there with that gloomy look, it doesn't look great on yer face ya know. Now, how about we go have some ice cream just right there at the convenience store, my treat, of course, the great Mammon won't leave his human with a frown on their face, so, is that a deal?"

leviathan!

- "Y-You know comforting people isn't my forte, but just know you're that important when I'm the one reaching out to you like this, so come on now, how about a round of this new game I just bought, you'll totally miss out if you skip this chance!"

— ©nerinefy don't plagiarize, repost, or translate | reblogs are appreciated!

[real-jane]

poet laureate

part 4 - [professor! bucky barnes x reader]

summary: they share softness. she presents her thesis

warnings: smut. fluff at cosmic levels.

a/n: this is the last installment of our sweet loves! there are two timelines interwoven, here. i hope you enjoy their conclusion.

series masterlist

– – – – –

There was yet one person who had seen his door who wasn’t related to him by blood, and the way she carefully plucked the keys from his shaking hands like she had set the pins to the key’s teeth herself… like she had milled the wood, and stained the surface herself–like his whole sense of home was borne of her fingers, because she herself was the house which held his heart… it made Bucky’s feet sprout roots in the open doorway. 

Alpine wound around the foundation of said home; his poet laureate lifted the animal into her arms, murmuring something which made him painfully jealous of them both. To hold her. To be held by her. And wasn’t that the whole reason why he tugged her towards his car? He kissed her at the first stoplight off campus (and the car behind him honked). 

Neither of them spoke a word to one another as he locked the door behind them.

She peered at him over the pate of his patron cat, wide-eyes alive with something wild. Bucky crooked his finger, and pointed at his feet… and those beautiful eyes narrowed. She stepped forward until they were toe-to-toe, and Alpine took the opportunity to leap up to her favorite perch on her master’s shoulder. It left the woman’s arms empty. Bucky couldn’t have that.

Of course he remembered touching her before, but like a treasure he had stolen. He wanted to recite her, breath for wanting breath, and with no question that he was going to stay in that bed long after. There would be no running from this woman ever again. He gripped her hips.

“You look like I’m forcing you to touch me,” she whispered, an amused smirk pulling at one corner of her mouth. Bucky huffed.

“I’m thinking.”

“Stop that.” She moved his hands to the small of her back.

“No,” he said wryly. “I made the mistake before of doing this without thinking about it. And then I left, because I didn’t let myself feel it. Doll–I’m not gonna miss one second of this. Not rushing. Or-or pushing things too far, too fast.”

“Only get one shot at a second chance,” she said, and his heart flipped.

“Yeah. Yeah.”

“We didn’t have enough time, the first time.”

“If you want the whole night, I’ll call in sick–” Her laugh made him pause just centimeters from her mouth, while Alpine fled Bucky’s shoulder with a soft thump.

“My cousin would kill me.”

“He’ll get over it.”

It wasn’t a kiss so much as an invitation. He dipped down to her mouth, but waited for her to close the gap between them. When she accepted, he lifted her to her tip-toes, pressed against the length of his body, like just kissing her was enough to give them both wings. Bucky mapped every fiber of her top with the fine ridges of his fingers–soft, but nothing like the skin he found beyond the hem. He turned so he could sit on the sofa, and she straddled him immediately. Panic rose in his chest, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why because she chased his lips like she was addicted to his kiss. He gripped her waist and sat back from her with a pointed glare.

“Slow down,” he murmured.

She giggled. “You make me crazy.” She scrubbed her fingertips through his hair and made his scalp tingle… and his eyelids drooped.

“Stop.” Bucky secured her wrists by her knees. He had a sneaking suspicion that she could slip out of his grasp easily at any time. She raised an eyebrow and waited, lips plump and shining. He growled and kissed her hard.

“You’re being bossy,” she breathed, nipping his lip. Bucky froze just centimeters from her face. 

“You used to listen to me.”

“Hmm.” She sat back so all it would take to slip off his knees was a subtle shift of her weight, forcing Bucky to lean forward to keep hold of her. “Yes, but… that was when you didn’t know that I was having very vivid dreams about giving you head in your office.”

“Doll–”

“Or that I’d touch myself listening to your lecture recordings.”

“You didn’t.” His voice had fled and his words came out in a huff.

“I didn’t,” she said wryly. “But I did dream of doing things. With you.”

“Tell me.”

“Give me my hands back.”

“You can have one.”

“One’s all I need.”

He let her take her right hand from his grip, but she tugged at his wrist to coax his hand between them. Bucky kept his eyes dutifully trained on her face, but he huffed when she touched his fingers to the button on her pants.

“Knew I was in trouble when I dreamed about your fingers the first time,” she breathed. “It was after the class where I loaned you my copy of Miłosz.”

“I never did give that back.” He didn’t–it had sat on his bedside table since that very day, so he could chip away at the poems little by little, prolonging the debt to her.

“You didn’t mean to do it, I knew you weren’t like that, but you–mmph.” Bucky dipped his fingers behind her zipper greedily, and groaned despite only reaching the band of her panties. She smiled. “You left your hand on my arm a little too long thanking me, and I felt your fingers all day, like you had branded me.”

He eased the teeth of her zipper down slowly. “I splashed cold water on my face in the bathroom after that class,” he admitted. “Thought I was losing my damn mind. Can I see you?”

“You have–”

“No. Right here.”

“In your living room?” she laughed.

“In my goddamned living room. I’ll even give you your other hand.”

“It’s not really fair if you stay clothed, now is it?”

“Can you pretend for five minutes like you wanna do what I say?” He said it with a modicum of annoyance, but he bit back a smile when she rolled her eyes. 

“I swear, if you ask me to call you ‘daddy–’”

“Don’t kinkshame, doll. Maybe I like that kinda thing.”

She froze and eyed him sharply. “Should we talk about our no-goes?”

Bucky smiled gently. “I will do whatever you want. Put my mouth–” he pulled her collar wide and kissed her bare shoulder– “anywhere you’ll let me. I just think you’re particularly cute when you’re telling me off.”

“I promise not to read into that,” she said, tugging at the hem of his shirt. Bucky sat forward so she could liberate the top from his torso, and then her own, and then he kissed her until she sank boneless against him. He flinched when her fingers danced across his shoulders. She kneaded her knuckles into the mottled scar which ran the length of his left arm, focusing her attention on the bicep which clenched in panic.

She pulled away from his mouth with a soft pop. “Buck–”

“Mmm. No–”

“Hey.” She cupped his cheeks and forced him to look at her. When he did, she smiled. “What can I do?”

“It’s–it’s just skin. I don’t… christ.”

“Can I kiss your skin?” 

Bucky sighed, willing his panic to go away. “You’ve seen it,” he rationalized.

“I have,” she soothed, dipping her head down to brush her lips at the cap of his shoulder. He shivered. 

“Sorry–”

“You fell asleep. Just for a little bit that night, after I got up to use the bathroom.” She kept eye contact, but clasped her left hand with his so she could hold it between them. With her right, she traversed over ridges, some rough, some smooth. “So when I came back, I debated whether or not I should wake you. You never looked so peaceful. I sat down as carefully as I could and I just… looked at you. Everything. It made me realize how much more of you there was to know. I–I wrote hundreds of poems about you, but not one of them as a woman who knew your body. I should’ve dug out my notebook and scribbled something down right then, but instead… I fell asleep with my head on your chest. Tucked into your left side. Cradled by this arm. I know you feel some kinda way about it, but… it’s a… a topographical map of a part of your journey I wasn’t around for. I like all parts of you, Barnes. Even the ones you don’t want me to see.”

Bucky’s head fell forward until he could press his forehead to hers. “Christ,” he repeated.

“I know you’re picking at me to distract me. Huh? What if we just lay together… take it slower?”

He nodded, but he wrapped his right arm around her waist and stood. She clung to him like a spider monkey, laughing in surprise. “Not the couch? I thought you wanted me naked in your goddamn living room.”

“Later.”

“Hmm. This is a nice place, baby.” 

Bucky couldn’t help but preen at the compliment and the fond title. “I want you to see my bedroom. I, uh. Yeah.” He nudged open the door and she let down her feet when he bade her, so he could turn on the bedside lamp. From his periphery, he watched her sit at the edge of the mattress on the opposite side of the bed. She peered up at him as she laid back, upside down, with wide and gentle eyes, completely unbothered by wearing only a lacy bra and unzipped pants.

“It’s nice,” she whispered. 

He laid on his side, propping his head up next to hers. He gave her a soft kiss. “My sister Rebecca helped a lot. She’s a designer.”

“Lots of connections.”

“Mhm.”

“Artsy genes in your family, eh?”

“Mother’s side.”

“Yeah?”

“Music, mostly.”

“Do you play?” Her face lit up and she mirrored his pose.

“Piano. Since I was four. Although if ma had her way, I would’ve inherited the family instrument.”

“Which is?”

“Tuba,” he chuckled. “There is, in fact, an heirloom Barnes family tuba.”

She grinned. “Oh my god. And yet… you chose literature.”

“It’s what kept me going. When I was overseas.” He lay down fully, nosing her shoulder… or, rather, hiding his face in it. “Some of the most beautiful poetry I ever read was handed to me by a girl, in exchange for my mother’s copy of Emily Dickinson.”

“God. Do you still have it?”

He shook his head. “Lost the book and half my arm when that grenade went off. It was in my left pocket–” he pats the bare skin over his heart– “and the medic pulled out a three-inch piece of shrapnel that lodged itself through the cover, effectively preventing it from going straight into my heart. It saved me. Keeps doing that.”

“Hmm?”

“Poetry,” he murmured into the curve of her shoulder. “It’s what stands between me and a shit-ton of shrapnel. You–you’ve shielded me, doll. You didn’t even know it.”

She sat up then, and tugged on his wrist until he rolled towards her. He laid his head on her thigh, and pressed until he could feel her softness start to push back where bone lay beneath it. 

“You think I didn’t?” she said. “You think I haven’t spent every moment in your class watching how you cringe when a flippant freshman insults Whitman, and made it my personal duty to speak up–annoy my classmates even, as long as the look of defeat faded from your face?” She brushed his hair behind his ear. “You love beautiful things. You’re hurt when people dismiss them. I have wanted nothing more than to shield you from anything which belies your wonderment.”

Bucky’s heart was in his throat. “Belies my wonderment,’ huh? You should be a writer.” 

Her soft laugh made his head spin. “Bucky, baby… I want to make you crazy with wanting me, with no hesitation.”

“I do, at all costs, I… god, doll. I’m afraid that the second I really give in for once, and let myself have you past all reason, maybe in spite of all logic, I won’t ever stop. I’ll–” He pushed up to his knees and loomed over her, gripping her cheeks. “I’ll be selfish. You’ll stay in my bed, because I want you there. We’ll never, never come up for air.”

“And… that’s a bad thing?” She grasped his wrists. “You know that you can be happy, right?”

“That so?” he breathed. She nodded.

“I don’t require giddiness, Barnes. But if you want to touch me, you should, because I might cease to exist if you don’t. I see every possibility of joy in your eyes. It doesn’t matter to me if you’re scared when you do it, as long as you give yourself a chance. Let me spoil you and feel you, and hold you when you come down, and make you happy. We’ll weather the sad parts, arm-in-arm. But your Happy is my raison d’être, so please–please, James Barnes. Let me touch you until neither of us have the words to say how happy we are. And then, let me touch you again.”

Bucky lowered his head until he could nip at her upper lip–a plush thing which brought to mind all manner of petals he might discover. He kissed her, because he couldn’t tell her ‘no,’ that he didn’t intensely want what she had on offer. No, Bucky kissed her with the intensity of a man who had never realized he was allowed to feel anything other than pain. 

She knelt in front of him and he didn’t realize what she was doing (other than unraveling every crinkled yarn of gray-matter in between his years) until her fingers crept between his pants and his briefs to grip his ass. His tongue met hers as those very fingers traversed his hips and around front. Bucky hummed when she cupped him over the softened denim trousers he’d chosen for their workday. As much as she wanted to give him happiness, Bucky needed–from his own molten soul–to give her every moment of the afternoon, as a precursor to the ongoing promise he intended to make. Whether or not he voiced it to her, Bucky didn’t know. But he sat back against the headboard, pulling her to straddle his legs as she had done on the couch. All the while, her lips became plump and heavy with desire. Her nipples pebbled in anticipation of meeting his warm fingers, and ached when he finally worried rough pads over her sensitive curves. Then, he slipped down on the pillow. All the way, evermore keeping her on her knees above him, like a bridge to pleasure. He tugged her down by the neck to kiss him again.

“Come up here,” he whispered. “Let me taste you?”

She seemed to lose her own sanity for a moment, blinking at him. “I’ve never… done that. With anyone.”

“Me neither. Won’t you try?”

“You want me to?”

“Doll–I am putting my mouth on you whether or not you let me do it from under you–”

“Fuck,” she breathed. “Okay. But, if you hate it–”

“I won’t.” Bucky vigorously shook his head. How could he hate any position which allowed him maximum access to her pleasure? He kept her gaze as she bent forward, pressing a kiss to his sternum. 

“Take your pants off, too,” she giggled as she slid off the bed. He did so quickly and with little pomp, keeping his eyes glued to her body as she rid herself of her denim. Bucky held out a hand to her once she freed her feet from the cuffs. She linked their fingers and followed his lead… up his torso, so her knees bracketed his ears. He had never had religious experience until the woman of his dreams offered herself to him, but lowering her hips towards his mouth, Bucky understood why men went mad for the taste of a woman. She gasped at the first sure swipe of his tongue. His knuckles went chalky as he gripped her ass to keep her close. If she bruised, he’d sooth the broken capillaries with his tongue, too. But one roll of her hips as he worried her clit, and all thought of what came after fled from his mind. 

He was here, now.

__

She stared at the table of adjudicators. Each one held a copy of her thesis. Seven copies, seven opinions… seven people who would decide whether her master’s project was worth publication, and if Y/n might be awarded her Masters’ degree too. Her parents had opted to attend the virtual presentation, considering that her mother couldn’t promise not to loudly weep while she did her defense. The room was packed with her classmates, and a few people she recognized from the English department, and several strangers, so her nerves rose the closer it got to her start time. There were a few people in attendance whose presence meant much to her, which helped ease her fears a little. For one thing, Sam Wilson sat behind Dean Stark. He gave her a thumb’s up when her eyes flicked to his for the fiftieth time in concern. And a woman came through the door who she didn’t know, but who seemed so familiar… The woman looked to be her age or slightly younger, with medium brown hair and light blue eyes. She smiled as soon as she entered, as if she had been diligently looking for the room. She was nearly late.

The stranger sidled around the adjudicators’ table and approached Y/n at the podium. “Hi–I’m sorry, I realize he probably didn’t tell you I was coming.” She spoke so softly that Y/n had to lean forward a bit. “He’s watching the livestream. Bastard woke me up at six-a.m. to beg me to come. Apparently he likes you. And that’s rare, for my brother.”

“Oh… Rebecca,” Y/n intuited. Bucky called his sister to attend in his place. He—god, he was perfect.

“Barnes,” Rebecca finished for her. “One representative of the family is better than none, eh? Besides, I’m anxious to hear from the woman who could make my brother passionate about something.”

“He’s passionate about a lot of things,” Y/n giggled. “He’s… I don’t have to tell you why your brother is great, do I?”

“No. I’ve always been a fan. I’d kinda do anything for that guy.”

“I know the feeling.” The women exchanged a soft smile of agreement. Rebecca fished in the bag hanging from her shoulder, and held out a little folded paper. 

“Good luck, yeah?” Bucky’s sister squeezed Y/n’s arm and then found her seat, besides Sam, who seemed to know her. 

Y/n turned her back to the audience so she could read the little note.

I wish I was as unfamiliar with sadness

As I am dragged kicking and screaming into contentment,

But you taught me

I don’t need to be serrated to be seen

I will stare into the face

Of strange happiness

With you.

I love you.

JB

–

He held her up even when her knees gave out, and then turned her so softly into the blankets that she hardly noticed until he was braced above her, offering her a soft kiss. The pillows had fucked off to the floor, and the blankets were adequately rumpled. She reached between them to feel him, and catalog what movement made his eyes press shut with pleasure. 

“Oh, doll–you don’t need to do that–”

“Shhh, Barnes.” She smiled against his lips. Bucky kissed her hard and rocked into her touch, clipping her wetness. “You’re gonna give me just one orgasm?”

He narrowed his eyes. “It’s about quality–”

“Mhm. Come here. I’m on the pill and I’m clean, and I might float away if you don’t pin me to this mattress.”

“You know…” Bucky liberated her hand from where she grasped his cock and replaced it with his own. He sat back, lifting her hips and eliciting a gasp of surprise as he yanked her closer. “I think you’re right. I said I was going to be selfish, didn’t I?” He notched the head between her folds and rolled forward until he could feel her muscles give in to make way for him. She was tight, but slick from her first orgasm at the mercy of his mouth, and Bucky had no problem pushing inside of her until her hips rested flush against his. His sanity, however, was short-lived. She was warm silk. He’d had her once–how did he let her go, knowing that she felt like this?

Y/n’s back arched as he retreated. “God.”

“Didn’t get the hype. Before you,” he managed, despite the tugging at the base of his dick which had him fighting back his own release. “Didn’t see the point.”

“Do you get it now?” She bit her lip and contracted her inner muscles around him. He groaned.

“Oh, babydoll.”

He held on long enough to make her come again, but his own release followed on her heels. Bucky laid, sweat-slick skin to skin with his nose tucked beneath her chin. Neither of them made an effort to do anything but breathe a little deeper. 

When he regained his faculties, he realized she was shaking. Her arms were curled around his shoulders to hold him tight, and he felt a warm tear slide off her chin.

“Oh—“

“Shhh. I don’t know why I’m crying. No, I do know, but I can’t stop.” She gripped him for dear life. 

“Doll?” Bucky pushed up to his elbows so he could see her face. She let her arms slide apart, but kept a tight grasp on his biceps. Bucky smiled softly at the sight of her awestruck tears. She tried to blink them away, but he kissed her forehead. 

“How did I earn this?” She sighed. “I’m not well-behaved. I—“

“It’s okay,” he soothed, though his chest tightened to hear her doubt herself. 

“You didn’t run.”

Bucky shook his head. “I’m home. Do you want some water?” She sniffled and nodded. Bucky kissed her gently. “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

By the time he returned to the bedroom, armed with two glasses of ice water, she was laying under the covers. He had heard the bathroom door shut and open again, and she was no longer fighting away tears. He handed her a glass and set his own on his bedside table. She drank deeply, downing the entire glass in no time at all.

“Mmm. Why do you ever bother to wear clothes?” she asked appreciatively as he sat beside her, slipping under the comforter which was warm from their combined body heat. He wrinkled his nose at her, but did not deign to give a response. Instead, he reached over to retrieve his pillow from the floor. He laid down, and held open his arms.

She turned on her side and wiggled backwards until her back was pressed to his chest. 

“Can’t get close enough,” Bucky whispered, kissing her neck just behind her ear.

“Sure you can.” She canted her hips to tease him. He smoothed his hand over her hip, over the round of her ass. Even if he didn’t know what it felt like to have their bodies joined, Bucky would’ve known her skin. It felt like he had for ages–earlier than their fumbled fairytale night. In some other world, maybe, where things were easier. He didn’t believe in other lives, but maybe they were made of adjacent star stuff.

—

She didn’t usually get choked up reading her own work but now every poem in her thesis had a second secret stanza; it was the same for every poem. But now I know he loves me too. She bit back tears when she finished the last selection for her presentation and smiled at the adjudicators in anticipation of their feedback. Dean Stark was solemn but when he looked up at her, his eyes glinted.

“This is an exceptional opus,” he said. “You should be very proud of this.”

“I am,” she peeped.

“I hope that you’ll sign a copy for me.”

She smiled. “Sure.”

“Good. We will adjourn here, then. You will have our full evaluation this evening. Congratulations.” Dean Stark started applause, which the rest of the room was quick to pick up. Y/n beamed, and then reached for her bag and bolted for the door. 

“Y/n!” Rebecca called, running to catch up. She looped her hand through Y/n’s elbow. “He’s in the car. Don’t worry, I cracked the windows.” The two women exchanged excited smiles.

—

Bucky moved to retreat from her for the millionth time and she moaned. He stiffened inside her. “Fuck,” he breathed. She smiled dreamily. Her tears had been soothed away by his thumbs over her cheeks, and kisses which drove home how much she deserved something as beautiful as that.

A pitiful meow at the door drew their attention. Alpine peeked around the doorway. “You’re not used to all this commotion, are you, fluff?” Bucky eased himself away from heaven, leaving a lingering kiss on Y/n’s lips. “I gotta make a call. And then I can make you dinner, if you’re hungry.”

“Dinner? What time is it?” she asked, astonished. Bucky nodded to his bedside clock, which read 5:07 PM. “We didn’t.”

Bucky scooped up his sweet kitten and plopped her onto his pillow. “Watch her. She’s trouble, that one.”

“Awe, no… she’s perfect.” Y/n scritched Alpine beneath the chin, and the cat purred in delight.

“Wasn’t talking to you, babydoll.” He winked and left the room to figure out where he had abandoned his cell phone.

The soft cat snuggled up under her chin, and her owner returned to mirror the posture a few minutes later… having called into work “sick” with love, and something very much like contentment.

–

They approached a sedan with the windows rolled down and a man in flannel leaning out of the passenger window, head propped up on his hand and eyes firmly shut. He wasn’t asleep… he was painfully concentrating on not bursting from his wheeled cage and charging head-first into the lecture hall to congratulate his poet laureate on an incredible presentation.

But he heard her snicker… and that was enough to free him.

Bucky scrambled from the car, stumbling as he caught his toe on the foot tread. Not ten feet away stood a woman he had risked it all for, and would risk more… life, limb, reputation, dignity, any other valuable things he could think of if pressed… arm-in-arm with his little sister. Bucky beamed at them both.

“She killed it,” Becca said softly.

“You did, doll. You really did.” Bucky scrubbed a hand over his jaw. 

Y/n reached into her bag without so much as another word. From inside the satchel, she produced a dark blue leather-bound portfolio, which she handed to him.

In his hands were the words which she spun from heart-strings. Her thesis. Poetry for him, about him… with no apology for loving him imperfectly. Bucky swallowed hard and opened the cover to the first page. The acknowledgements.

For my David, beloved, who took the chisel from my hand and returned me to stone. Lips and fingers soft as granite. A smile which cracked a fissure right through the heart of me. For the muse who made me.

Bucky’s gaze flickered upwards to find Y/n watching him with her bottom lip strained between her teeth. He huffed. 

“You’re going to pretend like you didn’t change my whole world?” he murmured. Bucky stepped forward, which spurred Rebecca to pull away from the other woman. Bucky caught his sister’s elbow and pulled her to his side. She hugged him. “Thanks, Becs,” he said into her crown.

“You know who’d love her?” Becca whispered. She touched the pendant at her collar, a simple cross which had belonged to their mother. His sister said nothing else. She didn’t need to. Not with the way Bucky’s eyes immediately welled. 

“I got somewhere to be. You two find your way home okay?” Rebecca didn’t wait for an answer. She got into her little car and drove away. 

All the while… Bucky stared at his girl. “Ma would’ve,” he said evenly. “Loved you. She’d take one look at you and know it all. She was like that–one cursory glance and she could see all your potential. Even when you were fucking blind to it,” he chuckled. “I think I inherited her senses, but in reverse, because when I look at you, doll… god. I see my whole life ahead of me.”

She kissed him with tears in her eyes, but not one ounce of sadness. His poet laureate, his mirror, the worst enemy of his dignity… she kissed him as if every word in that leather book were true, and for his part…

Bucky believed her.

The End.

___

thank you for reading! :)

kate’s masterlist - my bucky barnes masterlist

tag list: @peterhollandkait @honeywithemoney @nahthanks @emmabarnes @dracris33 @dracosluvbot @searchf0rtheskyline @cjand10 @eloiseishere

[mariailoveyou-guerin]

I told y’all jiara was never and would never ever been planned bc that’s lesbian girl and gay man lmao so jj being jealous in s1 when pope kissed kie was bc jjpope planned like we been saying since day 1 jjpope the planned ship like can’t wait for s4 to come and they can spill it cuz we waited 2 seasons to know this plot! Took 2 years before they let us know this so god knows when they gonna start saying jjpope was indeed the planned ship since day1 like it was so obvious from the second jj took the blame for pope like the jiara forced fan service is! the pates putting together everyone on the planet before ever thinking about jiara will forever be the funniest sh*t like they thought about rarry jjcleo before the thought jiara ever came to them and it wouldn’t even have if it wasn’t for 12 year old yt girls ok tiktok! Gotta thank them so hard for jiara fanservice bc we got popecleo truly biggest win of my life. the one time the pates had some brains n should’ve cooked this bc it makes so much sense having the two people who’s in love with pope easily fall in love with each other trying to get over him! Like the way that would ate would jumped on it if I wasnt jjpopecleo popecleo truther for once gotta thank the 12 year old tiktok kids bc enough with having my sisters end up with the yt loser of the gp when theres fine smart bipoc boy right there enough with swirl ships y’all never be the one and only swirl ship that matters shawnagela so dont even try it no more

it’s everyone but jiara plz truly the biggest fan service ship since stydia not one person thought of those two ad ship until fans aka the 12y old kids wanted to self insert themselves as lie to be with JJ! honestly so happy we didn’t get jjcleo even tho they already solo jiara

not me thanking jiara fanservice bc I escaped another swirl ship that would’ve had the internet the black community/girls in ch*ke hold like what have I become can’t believe I’m actually thanking jiara fanservice winning bc I could not handle another swirl ship hold on the internet!

my mutual the one jjcleo shipper girl losing right now can’t believe she lost jjcleo to that nasty no chemistry ship I feel so bad for her! stay strong bestie you deserve better let me go find them and see how she’s doing!! she lost so bad

STYDIA GET UP JIARW TAKING UR #1 biggest fan service ship ever it’s insane beating stydia in a forced fan service ship jiara demons are real

no but kie a girl kisser bc her jb never went further, her pope, it didn’t feel right I want something else! if it weren’t for this fanservice ship! + jjcleo planned in s2 before they found out jj was to gay coded and in love other pope then that fan service ship sticked him too!

never did I think I would ever see another fanservice ship after the way stydia ended up so badly but nah obx said let’s try this just to have them end up worse then stydia at least it didn’t take 6 years to turn into the nightmare of ship it is just took 1 szn well done pates!

[alphinias]

I’m so so excited for OBX 4! Can’t wait to see how the story goes!! I was thinking, OBX diving into the Blackbeard chapter must mean there’s another 2/3 seasons planned, I just don’t see why/ how they would wrap it up in 1. I need more seasons of jiara aged up 👀 and the pogues, I’m so intrigued how it’s going to go!

Have you got any thoughts? Or wants? Jiara and the plot?

My number one want is for them to not forget that the pogues is what make this show what it is. They can do whatever crazy gold plotline that they want, but they really did drop the ball a lot on the pogues in S3 and that’s always going to be the heart of the show.

For Jiara, it’s hard because a lot of the things I wanted really badly are going to kind of unavoidably altered by the time jump. We can get some stuff in flashbacks but the stuff like the pogues teasing them before they got together is just stuff that won’t be the same. I still want it, but I wanted it more before they got together! So I’d say my main wish is that they don’t pull any of the absolutely batshit insane things with them like they did with Sarah cheating with topper in S3. And I do NOT want another love interest brought in for either of them while they’re together. I only mention this because the pates didn’t deny it’s an eventual possibility (though it was a side comment not worth worrying about too much). Now, if we could just compromise and get some casually jealous Kie over some girl trying to hit on jj, I’d be so down for that and always will be. I just don’t want anything that’s an actual plotline and it’s just a trope the pates clearly keep going back to with jarah so I’m a little wary.

As for more seasons, I could easily see a s5. It doesn’t feel like they’re planning to end it here at all. They’ve said they have another three season arc, but they also say something different every time they’re asked. Personally, I wouldn’t be mad if s5 was where it ended as of right now, if only because I’d rather it end than just go on for so long the quality becomes terrible.

[sillyjimjam]

hi i don't watch CR but that imogen comic you just reblogged looks heartbreaking, would you be willing to explain to me what's going on there? <3

omg anon my pleasure!

basically Laudna is a creepy, body-horror obsessed, autistic-coded halloween monster with boundless love and enthusiasm for her friends and the world. Imogen is a pastel-themed deep south horse girl composed of a deep well of silent rage who can Read Minds and hates it.

they are Best Friends who do normal Best Friend Things like falling asleep holding hands, giving each other rings, getting jealous over the other's romantic prospects, swearing undying love to each other etc. just Totally Normal Best Friend activities.

also Laudna has a beloved "pet" rat called Pate - which is really a taxidermy rat that she puppets using tendrils of black ichor. all the characters find it very unsettling except Imogen, who genuinely loves all of Laudna's creepy quirks and disturbing creations

ANYWAY SPOILERS in a recent episode three characters were killed in a very difficult battle with someone tied to Imogen's mysterious backstory. The only character that couldn't be brought back to life right away was Laudna, and as of now the party is carrying Laudna's body with them in the hopes that she can be re-resurrected. Imogen refuses to leave the body alone and is looking after Pate and is generally caught in a terrible limbo of grief and denial

and as you can imagine, the Totally Normal Gal Pals fandom is devastated

[litcest]

"But, before I even begin to tell the story, let me just mention that, Hamlet’s obsession with his mother, Gertrude, is so strong that Freud himself linked their relationship with his Oedipus Complex (here’s another play I should write about, Sophocles’ Oedipus Rex)."

That is an absolutely beautiful thing to learn when a surprising amount of your personal vision of Arthuriana is based on The Once and Future King by T.H. White, in which the relationship between Mordred, King Arthur's tragic bastard, and Morgause/Morgawse, his mother and one of Arthur's half-sisters, is 100% a Freudian mess.

Honestly, I read that passage and immediately thought of this quote:

"People write tragedies in which fatal blondes betray their paramours to ruin, in which Cressidas, Cleopatras, Delilahs, and sometimes even naughty daughters like Jessica bring their lovers or their parents to distress: but these are not the heart of tragedy. They are fripperies to the soul of man. What does it matter if Antony did fall upon his sword? It only killed him. It is the mother's not the lover's lust that rots the mind. It is that which condemns the tragic character to his walking death. It is Jocasta, not Juliet, who dwells in the inner chamber. It is Gertrude, not the silly Ophelia, who sends Hamlet to his madness. The heart of tragedy does not lie in stealing or taking away. Any feather-pated girl can steal a heart. It lies in giving, in putting on, in adding, in smothering without the pillows. Desdemona robbed of life or honour is nothing to a Mordred, robbed of himself—his soul stolen, overlaid, wizened, while the mother-character lives in triumph, superfluously and with stifling love endowed on him, seemingly innocent of ill-intention."

Mordred's relationship with his mother in TOaFK is INCREDIBLY fucked-up and fascinating, btw. And as canon as it can go without ever being shown onscreen. After her death, even Arthur himself and one of Mordred's half-brothers, Gawain, eventually conclude and explicitly state that he must have been in love with her and jealous of Arthur for having had a one-night stand with her as a young man.

Although love may not be quite the right word for such a mess of emotional manipulation, psychological abuse, and obsession... not that Gawain and the rest of Mordred's half-brothers are that much better off in that respect, lol.

Nonie, I'm not gonna lie: I know nothing of Arturian myths except for what I learned in BBC's Merlin (which did have pretty incestuous vibes going all over the place). I'll definitively check The Once and Future King. Half-siblings canonically having sex and lot of submet between a mother and son? SIGN ME UP. Also seems like Mordred is another candidate to name the Oedipus Complex.

"It is the mother's not the lover's lust that rots the mind. It is that which condemns the tragic character to his walking death. It is Jocasta, not Juliet, who dwells in the inner chamber. It is Gertrude, not the silly Ophelia, who sends Hamlet to his madness."

I love this part of the quote, it's just beautiful and perfectly explain's the tragedy of Hamlet. Thank you for bringing this to my attention.

[remjl]

CRITICAL ROLE SPOILERS ALERT

Well, that was not a shopping episode, but entirely something else)

Yios is a beautiful place and Matt so good in emerging people into his world with all this colorful descriptions.

I like how it was heavy with social interaction this time and how Bells hells show off their new skills narratively as well.

Fearne and Laudna conversation happened and I still don't know if it was a coin flip or Ferne decision to choose, but it was nice to hear that Laudna approve choice that has been made.

Ashton threatened Pate. It look like some mirror moment from when Laudna threatened Ashton some time ago about Imogen. Still looking forward to the conversation that Talesin was hinted several times already.

Orym upgraded sword and new powers suited him well. Interesting to see how he will use this in battle.

Chetney is fun as always, but still a dark horse of the group. I hope we will see more of his backstory soon. Was it my imagination or both him and Ashton were kinda jealous when hot-panther guy interact with Fearne?

Imogen is distant and closed again, because of everything that overwhelm her and crowd around. After-shower scene was beautiful and sad at the same time. Her mother become annoying with all this cryptic agenda. I wish Imogen would go to Laudna or to the whole group for comfort after that, but that's left unspoken. I still hope for a little more Imodna content next episode, since it their dynamic to have some big moments and then kinda lay low a bit.

F.C.G. winged stalkers found him. Perfect ending for tonights episode.

In general episode was fun, but lost a pace a little bit in the end. The tour across Yios is fascinating, but I was hoping to see more interactions with players during it.

[jojameswinter]

WAIT OMG I went back and read the entertainment weekly interview and I remembered josh pate said this about jiara “So it won't be like a romantic rival [coming between them], at least not for a while, but more like JJ's demons and how is he going to deal with his traumatized past and settle into something that's healthy without being self-destructive. That's going to be great to see” josh said “at least not for a while” that means jj and Kie will still be together in season 4 and through that time jump because they still have so much they want to develop and explore with their relationship because they still want to show how JJ can “settle into something that's healthy without being self-destructive” so I’m not worried they broke up during the time jump but I am worried about the writers adding a romantic rival I mean it will be fun to see jealous JJ and Kie as long as they are endgame

I didn't feel as though jiara was broken up during the time jump! We didn't really get confirmation per se, but I still got that affectionate vibe from them.

I think they'll be some picture of "together" S4, though to what degree/how it will be shown, I'm not sure. I think we will see the angst still drawn out as they both work through their issues separately and together in a different way than what we were presented with S3. Plus, we'll get to see their relationship within the Pogue dynamic and that'll be so fun!!!!! 😍

I agree that little jealousies might be kind of interesting to play with, but I really don't see them creating a serious romantic rival when they built up jiara for an entire season (and even before). It just doesn't fit with the characterization either. Jiara being in love is so serious to both of them with their best friendship as the basis, their loyalty and respect for each other - giving that trust to each other is so sacred. I'm not sure either one of them has really done that, truly been vulnerable to someone else. I really see them being endgame, even with obstacles thrown their way.

I'm so excited that they'll be able to get on S4 faster!!!!! We are truly winning!!!! ❤️

[kiekiecarrera]

Re watching the pilot again (I’ve lost count what I’m on after 3 years) and I’m sorry the writers are point blank lying about jiara. This was such a good set up for jiara like are you kidding me?!

“What was that all about” I dunno, but I liked it, a lot” *stutters speech after cos boy is flustered*

DOORS LOCKED COS I TRIED IT.

How many jealous looks?!

Like come pates.

Oh how I wish pope and kie never happened that kiss was just not needed and season 2 moment we don’t speak about. Prefer to erase that from my brain please and thank you.

Yeah everytime I rewatch the pilot I'm baffled they weren't setting up Jiara, like all their interactions reek of endgame setup it's insane. But then knowing their plans were to set up pokie dvfclnvflsdn i have to laugh. They really had no idea what they were doing huh. To be fair, half the appeal is Maddie and Rudy's natural chemistry, but still. They had a chemistry read, and then they were on set, the pates/writers had to have seen it????

But then again the Pates recently said the s1 hot tub scene had ship implications for jiara, so you don't know what else they will own up to with enough time.

[lizziethat]

I went back and read the entertainment weekly interview about OBX 3 and I remembered josh pate (one of the writers) said this about jiara “So it won't be like a romantic rival [coming between them], at least not for a while, but more like JJ's demons and how is he going to deal with his traumatized past and settle into something that's healthy without being self-destructive. That's going to be great to see” josh said “at least not for a while” that means jj and Kie will still be together in season 4 and through that time jump because they still have so much they want to develop and explore with their relationship because they still want to show how JJ can “settle into something that's healthy without being self-destructive” so I’m not worried they broke up during the time jump but I am worried about the writers adding a romantic rival I mean it will be fun to see jealous JJ and Kie as long as they are endgame

I've spent too much time covering entertainment to fully trust writers, but I think from all they've said, it's unlikely the first step for them would be to throw any romantic rival Jiara's way. And they're certainly not going to take the setup and be like "yeah, jk, that's over, we're moving on!"

There's just so much to explore internally, and that's always the good angst too because like -- when you have characters in the middle of a love triangle, as a viewer, you always kinda feel like the choice is clear and it's drama for the sake of drama. There are very few love triangles in entertainment in general that feel genuinely like the person in the middle truly loves both. OBX itself has had some love triangle issues -- because like, whoever looks at Topper like a real option?

But yeah, for someone like JJ -- and as I've said, especially if you bring Luke back -- there's so much potential to explore how truly hard it is to convince yourself you are worthy and loved. You might know it and feel it one day, and then the next day you're back in a spiral of feeling worthless. Healing from abuse is hard, and JJ having the Pogues and Kiara doesn't just magically make everything better.

Kiara's got her issues to deal with too, especially with her parents. I've said it before, but those are enough internal drama issues that there's no need to bring in a third person. I also, sorry to say, do not actually believe either of them would get to a point where they'd be like -- hey, we've been through all of this together, but there's this cute guy/girl, so, you know, gonna explore that? How does THAT make sense?

"Romantic rival" to me can only mean someone who is interested in either of them -- which yes, I could see, and if that person comes in the middle of a fight or a downward spiral with their own issues, there might be a moment of confusion the writers can throw in there for drama and jealousy's sake. Not my favorite storyline, and not something I think makes sense in S4, but I guess if the show gets enough more 2-3 more seasons it could be something they do. We gotta deal with a lot of internal drama, first, though. That doesn't just make sense, it's prime storytelling material no writer is going to pass up.

[ghostiewriter]

WAIT OMG I went back and read the entertainment weekly interview and I remembered josh pate said this about jiara “So it won't be like a romantic rival [coming between them], at least not for a while, but more like JJ's demons and how is he going to deal with his traumatized past and settle into something that's healthy without being self-destructive. That's going to be great to see” josh said “at least not for a while” that means jj and Kie will still be together in season 4 and through that time jump because they still have so much they want to develop and explore with their relationship because they still want to show how JJ can “settle into something that's healthy without being self-destructive” so I’m not worried they broke up during the time jump but I am worried about the writers adding a romantic rival I mean it will be fun to see jealous JJ and Kie as long as they are endgame

LISTEN

as long as the romantic rival is something stupid like that random wee girl in the bonfire episode between jarah b and not a topper situation that keeps coming back like a bad smell, I WILL TAKE IT HAPPILY

gimme the jealousy, im toxic and i fucking love the trope no matter what anyone says

[ichijager13]

Of love, books and your smile

pairings : Eren x reader (Jean x reader, Eren x Historia)

Modern AU, aged-up characters, strangers to lovers, falling in love, fluff

Summary:   His name was on every book you borrowed. you have even made a habit of looking for it eacht time you chose one. Eren Jager a combination of letters you grew familiar with, but what happens when you finally meet the man in question.  

You can find the links of the other chapters here

A/N: this was previously published on AO3, the story is inspired   by seiji's confession from whisper of the hearts.

Jean shippers I’m terribly sorry xD  

Chapter VII: it’s time to go

As you begun to wake up you felt a pair of strong arms touring you. it’s been a long time since the last time you found yourself in someone’s arms you almost forgot how it feels like. In fact, the last man was your ex, Jean.

you tried to leave the bed but he tightened his grip. “Be still”. He spoke in a drowsy voice that sent shivers down your spine. He brought you closer and buried his nose in your hair. You slowly closed your eyes feeling content.

This reminded you of your lazy mornings with Jean. Jean was the type of lover who solves his problems in bed. He was moody, had a sharp tongue and sometimes a bit too much for you to handle but the moment he holds you in his arms you forget about all what’s wrong about him.

“He’s a fucking French”. Once scolded a drunk Pieck. “That’s what they’re good at. Talking and blowing your mind in bed”. she pated your shoulder. “Poor thing, I really sympathize with you. guys like him are lethal”.

Your relationship lasted three years, three years during which you gave so much and forgive even more without getting anything in return. Three years that drowned all your energy and patience. You knew since the start that a guy like Jean would crush a quite nature such as you but god, he was irresistible. He was so irresistible you had to pretend sometimes he wasn’t going too far with his words, you had to pretend to be oblivious to his flirty behavior with other women and you even had to pretend you weren’t feeling crushed by his presence. You took it on you during those three long years until that day.

Eren’s lazy kisses made you come back to reality. You were so lost in your thoughts you didn’t notice you were so tense. You slowly relaxed feeling his soft lips go down your neck and nip at your shoulder. The instant you felt his canine dipping in the thin skin of your shoulder you gasped.

“Good morning”. He whispered against your skin before resuming what he was doing.

“Good morning”. You shifted slowly until you were facing him.

“You fell asleep here and I didn’t want to interrupt your slumber by putting you to bed. you seemed so tired”. He cupped your face while talking. A slow smile made its way across your lips. “You have a wonderful smile”. He mirrored your smile caressing your rosy cheeks. “It’s so bright it makes me believe in fairy tales”. His last comment dragged a corny laugh from you. “Each time I caught you smiling at the library I felt jealous for not being the reason you’re smiling. I made a promise to myself to make you smile whenever I had a chance”. Your smile grew even wider as your cheeks’ temperature rose exponentially.

“Slept well?” You inquired minutes later. He hummed in response; his face was inching closer to yours. “How about…”. You were in the middle of your sentence when his lips landed on yours. You hiked up in surprise before leaning into his touch kissing him back.

“Haven’t slept like this in ages”. He spoke stretching before pulling you for another kiss.

You stayed snuggled in the bedsheets cuddling and talking till a late hour. After having breakfast, he bid you goodbye and went to his place.

*****

You were making launch when you remembered that day. you and Pieck spent the night at Annie’s. the next morning when you got back home and while cleaning you found a pair of panties that did not belong to you under the sofa. You sat there for minutes staring in disbelief at the garment. Jean has cheated on you before, you have found messages on his phone, his collar shirt stained with lipstick and came home with another woman’s parfum on him in the past. But this, bringing someone here, cheating on you in the place you live in together. That was too much, you’ve had enough. Enough of his lies, of his cheating. You got fed up with his twisted games and his manipulation. Once you made up your mind you stood up and packed your stuff than called Annie.

“Hey Annie, do you mind if I stay in your place for a while?” you asked putting your bags in your car.

“Yeah, of course. What happened?”

“I’ll tell you everything later. Can I ask for something else?”

“It goes without saying, what can I do for you?”

“Can you come over and help me move my stuff to your place. I wanna be done with this as soon as possible”.

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes”. She spoke before hanging up.

You stood in the middle of the living room of the place you used to call home and surprisingly you didn’t feel any regret for leaving. You left the piece of lingerie you found on the sofa and your set of keys on the table by the entry before locking the door behind you. starting the engine, you felt for the first time in three years like you can breathe again. You have spent the last years holding your breath, refraining yourself and walking on egg shells. You were watching every step you made so afraid he’d get angry and leave you. but that was before, today, you finally broke the chains that were restraining you. today you broke free from him and this toxic relationship you’ve been trapped in.

While unpacking your stuff you told Annie about what you found. “I’m glad you finally made the decision to leave”. She took you in her arms. “I want you to know that I will be by your side. You’re not alone, you can talk to me whenever you feel the need to”. You nodded smiling. “That scum, I’m so happy you got rid of him. he doesn’t deserve you. I hope he’ll rot in hell”.

“You never held him in your heart, didn’t you?” you burst laughing.

“He’s too much for me”. Soon your giggle turned into hysterical sobs. “There, there”. your friend rested her arm around your shoulder. “Go ahead darling, let it all out. You’ve been holding it on for so long”.

Annie has suggested to switch off your phone for the next two days and you were thankful she did. You spent the rest of the weekend with your friend cooking and doing skin care.

“I’ll start looking for a place next week”. You spoke during dinner.

“No need to rush, you are a pleasant housemate and your cooking is delicious”. She grinned while dipping the churros you made in chocolate sauce. “Let me enjoy it a little more”.

It wasn’t until the middle of that week that he showed up. he was standing next to your car in the parking lot holding a big bouquet of flowers, your favorite. “Douch bag”. you muttered when you saw him.

With a wide smile and a gentle voice, he called your name. “Sweetheart, you got me so worried. I’m glad you’re doing fine. Where have you been?” you moved passed him, unlocked your car and brought the case file you forgot on the back seat. he turned looking at you surprised. “Here, I got them for you”. nothing. “Listen, I know I screwed up and I’m sorry. Please, dear come back home”. He held your arm as you passed again beside him.

You slowly looked at him before yanking your arm from his grip. “I’m done with this”. You quietly said. You turned your back and walked back to the building. He called for you several times before he let out a loud groan and tossed the bouquet to the flour.

“Fine by me. Just don’t come back crying and begging me to take you back”. You turned and flashed him a smile before entering, leaving a stunned Jean behind you.

He spent the next month leaving messages and calls you never answered. His behavior made you gladder you left him.

“If I didn’t know the whole story, I would’ve believed he really loves you”. Pieck mused once.

“I think he’s only upset he wasn’t the one to call off the relationship”. Annie followed and you both nodded.

“I’m glad you broke up with him. let’s make a toast”. She held her glass high smiling bright. “To healthy relationships”.

“It’s a little too soon for me”. You let out. “I need some time to rest and take back my life”.

A couple of years later you have your own appartement, your employer’s esteem and a nice guy calling you, his girlfriend. His girlfriend, you felt surprised last night when he referred to you as his girlfriend. Something inside you melt and made you feel warm when the word left his lips. You smiled to yourself thinking of his lazy smile from this morning and soft kisses while flipping the breaded chicken breasts you were making.