#like this very quiet ardent kind of love

[candyunicornsateme]

my favorite piece of art of yours was the "hand kisses" drawing you posted in 2020, ik it's not the most detailed piece you've done but it just kinda hit me like a truck when i first saw it and ig that reaction just stuck with me for. well over a year now.

omg anon ;-; you didn't have to say this but it's very sweet 💖 I remember doing that one and an anon (maybe you?) liking it so much that I drew another similar piece. ;v; But seriously I'm so touched if I was able to make smth that struck you that deeply, bc that's what I experienced when I started and it still deeply colors the feelings I still get about my fav otps/characters ;-;

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

hii, i LOVE love the way you write xavier and i was wondering what your thoughts on him having a corruption kink would be? 👀

i feel like it fits him well but maybe it's also just the brainrot talking...

── first of all thank you anonie for the kind words omg, i love xavier Ardently 🤲🤲 and SECOND... corruption kink xavier oh my GOD you are SO. RIGHT i totally get you... the vision... i can SEE IT...

xavier's corruption kink would be a little more on the subtle side—he was always gentle with you, always soft and always attentive to your needs... that is, unless you asked to be treated roughly, unless you begged for him to do otherwise.

and that's probably where it starts.

because xavier would never tell you, but he liked the face you made whenever you're all fucked out for him.

he liked the way your eyes would glaze over; his fingers, or his cock, or his tongue playing and having their way with you. he liked the whimpers you would make at every thrust of his hips, the way his name would fall from your lips in an endless chant, the way your hips would buck up to chase all of this pleasure that he would gladly, gladly give to you... so ruined for him, and him alone.

but even more than that, he loved the build-up.

the build-up of getting you to that state, moaning his name, begging for more—

because you were always just so... innocent.

so pure, so unassuming, so—easy.

the way you'd blush at the slightest mention, the slightest insinuations of these... less-than-pure activities with him... the way your ears would turn pink at even the very sight of him shirtless, despite how desperately you would try to hide it every single time, despite how often you would see him like this just to help him bandage his wounds.

it was cute.

adorable.

and xavier would use it to his advantage every. single. time.

because how would you know?

how would you know that the reason he was so touchy with you, the reason he would whisper these vaguely suggestive words into your ear—was because he desperately, desperately, desperately needed to see you so worked up for him... and not to—to just cuddle with you?

while you always saw him as innocent; he was only ever playing the part to get to you.

calm, whenever he snaked his hands over your waist; dismissive, whenever he placed kisses along the side of your neck—

he loved the shudder of your skin, the whines on your lips when you asked him what he was doing.

"nothing, angel," he'd mumble. "i'm just kissing you. can't i? do you not want me to?"

and oh, he'd love the way you would gradually shift over to begging.

your "no, o-of course i want you to...!" would switch into quiet moans when he'd suckle over a particularly sensitive patch of skin, would switch into a shaky whimper when he'd deliberately brush over your already-hardened nipple.

"x-xavier, don't tease... please..."

and he'd smile.

"but... why? i'm not teasing, angel. what's gotten you so worked up for me like this...?"

and then you'd be vague, and shy, and hesitant; stuttering to cover your desires before your frustration would get the better of you and then you'd be blatant—specific.

pleas of having him deep and perfect and snug inside of you, pleas of having him fuck you senseless—your wants would change, but the message was there. and, god, he had never imagined he could ever hear such filthy words from you at all.

you were his angel, for god's sake! his angel, his princess, his queen—his, and he'd always seen you so... pure.

angelic, just as he called you.

wholesome.

...clean.

but, now, in his hands, you were stained by sin—ruined, for him, by him.

so he'd go through the process again and again, watching you descend from your throne of purity to the depths of whatever he could drag you into—

and god, he loved it.

...but xavier would never tell you that.

it's just his small, dirty little secret...

you don't have to know.

⁺₊ / an: i finally get it... the reason he's always acting so innocent, the way he's always so deliberate with his teasing 😭 he TOTALLY has a corruption kink.

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[luveline]

hi! i was wondering, how did eddie *formally* ask reader to be his girlfriend, would he ask roan first?! do you think you could write eddie asking reader out to be officially together?! thank you and i love your work<3

hi!!! let's pretend it goes like this, thank you!! fem!reader

Eddie's curls look really nice today. Sleek and springy, they do a little bounce as he turns to you and offers you a small smile.

"What?" he asks expectantly.

You're waiting to go into the Hawk movie theatre. It's warm and the line is super long. You and Eddie stand somewhere in the middle in light clothing, the sun kissing him all over and turning his pale skin golden.

"Do you think they'll open the doors soon?" you ask quietly. It's the kind of day where you don't feel like you have to be anyone but yourself, no matter how quiet that might leave you.

Eddie nudges you gently with his elbow. "Getting bored?"

"So bored," you agree, wry. You can't bite back a smile as you step a little closer to him, eyes on a long curl at his shoulder.

"Nah, I think they're gonna start letting people in soon. Stick it out. It'll be worth your while." He pretends to yawn and throw his arm over your shoulder.

"I bet." You mean it.

There a lapsing silence. You're not sure if it's awkward or not. It doesn't feel awkward for you; you could spend hours alone with Eddie now and never feel bored, he's that kind of perfect. His freckles and fanaticism, his ever-present wit.

You decide to give yourself what you want and reach for the curl you'd been eyeing up to wrap it around your finger. You're thrilled when it fits, like he'd slept with it coiled around your finger specifically. It's so stupid to think, so silly and ardently affectionate that you cringe at yourself.

"I fucking love your smile," Eddie says.

You let the curl spring free. It's impossible to stop smiling now he's said it. "My smile?" Your smile is more of a grimace, usually.

"Yeah. Best smile this side of the Atlantic."

"And the other side?"

He taps under your chin swiftly. You deign to lift your gaze and meet his eyes, honey browns edged in a thicket of straight, dark lashes.

"Best get over there before I answer," he says.

Eddie looks suddenly and acutely more handsome than he's ever looked before. He's pink with it, your affection, skin glowing and soft, hair perfect and pretty. A long chain dissapears into the loose neck of his tank top. Your eyes search all over him and can't find a single imperfection. Not the scar on his left bicep, not his callused hands.

"Oh, god. I really like you," you confess.

You'd be embarrassed if you thought Eddie cared. He hadn't been weirded out when you asked him on a first date, Roan in his arms with her tearstained cheeks. He hadn't cared when you'd kissed her tiny cut up knees at the supermarket, or when you'd said, Hi, handsome, on your very first date. You keep worrying about being too much and Eddie keeps showing you that you're not.

He doesn't let you down. "I like you more. Fuck, you can't let me have one, can you?"

"Have what?" you ask, laughing.

"One of our firsts!"

"Eddie Munson, what the fuck? Did you get bodysnatched by a teenage girl? Why do you care about firsts?"

He glares at you. Then, sudden, you can practically see the light bulb of an epiphany behind his eyes.

"Be my girlfriend."

Pleasure fills your chest, a dizzying static. You don't gawp, though you easily could, you only smile your awful, stupid, terrible smile — that he fucking loves by the way — and try not to laugh. You're so happy you can't keep it down, giggles bubbling up in waves.

"Yeah, okay," you say. It's more casual than you feel.

His shoulders relax in relief. "Yeah?"

You weave your fingers into the softest curls behind his neck and tap his jaw with your index finger. Eddie's quick to put a hand behind your back and tug you inward. The rose-tint surrounding him gets worse by the second.

"Is that enough firsts for you?" you ask softly. "Or do you want another one?"

He understands quickly what you're asking for, dipping down to share your very first kiss. You've kissed his cheek once or twice and you think he might've kissed your head one time during a short hug, but this is a real kiss.

His lips are soft. You feel him and nothing else, world tunneled into his hands where they pull up your back, almost like he's trying to drag you in closer, and the sigh that he makes as he does. You tentatively, so tentatively, part your lips. The slightest gap.

Eddie pulls away to wade in from a new angle, his own lips now parted in turn. You can't breathe right as you meld against him, hand closing much more roughly than you mean to around his neck and suffocating his poor curls.

He pulls away after a few seconds, seemingly assessing your expression.

"Sorry," you say sincerely, pulling your hand from behind his neck.

He closes his hand, rubs your cheek with the backs of his fingers, fingernails smooth over the slope of your cheek. It's a featherlight touch. You've never been touched this delicately.

"You're sure?" he asks.

Vigorous, vehement nodding. "One hundred percent sure."

He presses his lips together, an obvious excitement. "God, Roan's gonna blow a gasket."

You both laugh and fall into one another. Crazy, how your head fits into the curve of his neck as perfectly as it does.

-

roan only guest stars but there's more eddie and roan here if ur interested in this single dad eddie

[anincompletelist]

[ vol i | vol ii | vol iii | vol iv | vol v ]

firstprince fic recs: hurt/comfort edition! :D

some of these have more angst than others before the comfort, so please be sure to check the tags! but I tried to choose some of my personal favorites that I always return to when I need something comforting to read <3

as always, please remember to leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed the fic or show support in other ways, and be kind! mind the tags and if you come across something you dislike, please kindly (and quietly) move on.

+

talk me down | seafloor | G | 2k

It never gets easier, but with Alex, it’s less exhausting. [Henry gets triggered, and Alex is there for him.]

+

Mr. Body Pillow | @inexplicablymine | T+ | 21k

Two boys cuddling on a couch right on top of each other because they are in fact very gay™. Inviting over a complete stranger for cuddles because you are touch starved might be the worst idea Henry has ever had, or the best.

+

the clementine thing | @saintlynomenclature | T+ | 6k

And, really, it doesn’t matter whether or not Alex explains it to Liam and the rest of his friends. They’ve never really discussed it between themselves through the years. Slowly, Alex had gone from asking Would you please peel this for me? to Please? to silently extending the citrus without any comment at all, just a soft smile. It’s one of the things that make them Alex-and-Henry; the silent conversations and the contentment in each other’s company. Now, as Alex starts to flourish through his position on the lacrosse team, his slew of AP classes, and his role in student government, getting him to slow down at all is a feat. The only way that Henry can do it, guaranteed, is by one of those innocuous little fruits. There’s nothing Alex can’t do—surely, he could peel a fucking orange if he felt so inclined—but Henry delights in being able to do this for him. [Five times Henry shares a clementine with Alex, and one time Alex returns the favor]

+

sea of endless hope | acastle | E | 85k

Henry watches Alex, the man he adores and loves so ardently, and the moment is palpable, delicate, and yet too large for even the sky to contain. He watches Alex, and in that moment, he wants to be his husband, the ache and urge of it almost unbearable. “Daddy!” Nena takes Henry’s hands, and he looks down at her, the angel who had saved him, and he smiles at her, quiet with emotion, letting her lead him into place. He would follow her, follow Alex, anywhere. (Henry, Alex, and their daughter, and the first years of coming home, forever.)

you can see it with the lights out | weathersriley | G | 3k

Alex thinks of the water. Of feeling like he might never reach the surface, might never reach Henry. But Henry is here; Alex remembers falling asleep in the glow of his presence, and beneath his shaking fingers, Henry’s chest is warm and his heart is beating steadily and Henry is here. Alex is afraid, but Henry is here.

+

I ask you how you're doing (and I let you lie) | @matherines | M | 6k

The first time Henry sees it happen, he knows instantly that it is not the first time it has ever happened. They’re sitting in the living room of the brownstone, the two of them surrounded by their favorite people in the world, a night of board games long abandoned in favor of mocking the eighth season of Game of Thrones. “God, don’t you have an off switch?” June groans, laughing as she chucks a piece of popcorn in Alex’s direction while he rambles passionately about the international legal implications of the Red Wedding. Nora cackles. “Whatever you do to thank Henry for putting up with you, it’s not nearly enough. Jesus, I can’t believe he put a ring on your loud mouth.” [Or: Alex is fine. Really, he’s fine — he just wants Henry to stay, even if Alex is too much. Henry just wants his husband back.]

+

Aftercare | @whimsymanaged | M | 2k

When Alex has an intense hookup without aftercare, he finds himself on his best friend Henry’s doorstep in desperate need of looking after.

+

Dream a Little Dream of Me | @affectionatelyrs | T+ | 9k

They’re no longer in the garden. There’s no grass, no flowers, no fireflies. Only stars—hundreds upon hundreds of them in an otherwise vast sea of darkness, dazzling and twinkling and here. “How—” “They came here for you,” Alex says, his voice light. “It’s what you desired. So, I asked them to come and shine. Just for you.” “But won’t the world need them?” Alex shrugs and simply says, “You need them more.” [Or, Five times Alex visits Henry in his dreams during his dark days, and one time he does so in the real world (and stays)]

+

Burnt Offering | justicefortheJ14magazine | G | 9k

Alex’s hair care routine is elaborate, he struggles to let Henry help him, and he learns some important things about receiving love through service. [A look at FirstPrince’s love through each love language: Acts of Service]

+

I would stay forever (if you say don't go) | @coffeecatsme | T+ | 6k

The words echo in his head, unbidden. The words from another life, practically another universe, shoved inside the small walls of a gilded cage, hidden in a room in London with shuttered windows and locked doors. A boy’s voice Henry still remembers ten years later, when he doesn’t quite remember what he had for lunch the day before. A boy’s voice on a phone that understood him better than every member of his family, even an ocean, a continent, three thousand miles away. A boy’s voice that told him in no uncertain terms that it was okay if he wasn’t okay, that allowed him to pave a path until he was. To open a new shelter in New York City, Henry needs to interview a host of potential lawyers to hire. He doesn't expect one of them to be the boy that saved his life ten years ago.

+

Don't Give Up Your Ghost | @nocoastposts | G | 1k

Healing is not linear.   When Henry first heard this phrase, he brushed it off as a cliche. An evergreen proverb for those who didn’t know what else to say. As his anger morphed into crippling sadness, he began to understand the sentiment. Henry never knows when the grief will become all-consuming. A perfectly fine day can shatter instantly, with no preamble or warning given. The most trivial things - a scent, a laugh, a song - can utterly and completely devour him. Learning to accept the ebb and flow was not easy. He knows that the dark days will never cease completely. He also knows that Alex will brave the storm with him, time and time again. Henry is eternally grateful for this. [Or, Henry reflects on some common platitudes of grief - then and now.]

+

outta luck to spend | potentiallyunloveable | T+ | 9k

“Nora ignorin’ ya?” a voice says from beside him, and Henry startles, turns to his left, is suddenly frozen. The man who’s slid into the seat next to him, silently, without Henry noticing, is quite possibly the most beautiful man Henry’s ever seen in his life. He’s got the widest smile, sweet dimples, soft brown skin and impossibly long eyelashes. He’s wearing a fucking Stetson, and Henry feels like the wind’s been knocked out of him. Or: Henry (lost, hopeless) meets Alex (bright, hopeful), in a bar in Texas.

+

thunderstruck | @wordsofhoneydew | T+ | 2k

“Alex, slow down.” Henry pulls away softly from Alex’s taut grasp. “Are you feeling alright now?” “Y-yeah, I think I’m okay.” Alex smiles back meekly at Henry’s heedful gaze. Alex feels like he has gotten way ahead of himself. “I'm just a huge astraphobic, ever since I was little. I guess I never grew out of it.” [or, Alex has a fear of thunder so Henry comforts him]

+

fell apart (in the usual way) | @hypnostheory | E | 12k

By the time they’ve reached the landing, Henry is shaking his arm out of Alex’s grip. “The picture of grace under fire,” he says, the words snapping from his mouth. Alex blinks at him, before his face smooths into its professional mask. “You can’t pick a fight with the Queen’s equerry, no matter how averse you are to the concept of the monarchy.” Alex looks Henry up at down, his mouth forming a tight line. “I don’t pick fights, Your Majesty,” he says, adjusting his grip on Henry’s suitcase. Henry can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of that statement. “Shaan called me a few weeks ago to go over every single thing that made you miserable about the holidays. It was a very long phone call.” Henry doesn’t doubt that. “I’m going to help you avoid as many of those items as possible.” [Henry is a mess around the holidays, and he's expecting to have a tremendously horrid time without Shaan. Fortunately, Alex has plans to make his Christmas both merry and bright.]

+

ocean waves | seafloor | E | 10k

Henry Fox wakes up with a toothache one morning, and has a lot of feelings about certain things for days afterwards.

+

I'd hold you as the water rushes in | @saintlynomenclature | M | 11k

“—lex. Alex.” Fuck. Where had his mind gone? Alex snaps his eyes to Henry’s, forcing his attention back from where it had drifted. “I’m listening, I’m listening. What were you saying?” Anyone else would probably be offended, or would just laugh at the clearly conflicting statements that had flown thoughtlessly out of his mouth. Instead, Henry’s brow crinkles, lips downturning as he scans Alex’s face. “Are you alright? You’ve been acting strange all night.” Those blue eyes are much easier to deal with through FaceTime. Alex has to look away from them, less he caves and spills everything to Henry. He pastes a smile on, “Fantastic, Your Highness. All this bubbly is going to my head, the sugar’ll get me in the morning.” [Or, Alex drops on New Year's Eve]

+

never be so polite (you forget your power) | Standinginmoonlight | M | 6k

The one where Arthur Fox leaves letters for his children.

+

while you were sleeping (I fell in love) | @kill8a | M | 3k

As their relationship progresses, Alex notices that Henry’s sleeping habits start to progress as well. Notably, more naps, less insomnia, and a knack for falling asleep at any hour of the day.

+

that's all for now!

hurt/comfort is one of my all time favorite tropes, so feel free to rec me some if they aren't on this list, or to reach out with ideas for other rec lists in the future! <3

-- sarah / anincompletelist xx

[cambion-companion]

Hello!! You’re Aemond x Reader fanfics are absolutely wonderful!!! I can’t stop reading them, and I would love to make a request of my own. May I please request an Aemond x Reader where the reader is insecure because their exes never treated them with respect and so they feel unworthy of Aemond? However he shows them what true love is by slow dancing with them in front of everyone during a ball and showing that they belong to him?

Ok friend! I LOVED writing this one, made me feel all the things! Aemond is very about the direct approach when it comes to his lady. He knows what he wants, and he gets it.

Aemond x reader | No content warnings | Aemond being the women respecting babygirl we know him as

You twirled a strand of hair about your finger, watching Aemond and Sir Criston spar in the courtyard.  The day was overcast, a light drizzle of rain had begun falling, prompting you to move to the shelter of the outdoor corridor.  Aemond’s long silver hair swirled about him as he danced around Cole, his movements snakelike as he weaved to dodge the oncoming strikes.  

You had met Aemond almost a year ago, having been sent by your family to be princess Helaena’s handmaid.  He had taken a liking to you, your clever tongue and sharp wit, as you had to him.  The two of you had become friends which turned into lovers that fateful night he had kissed you in the rain, pulling your drenched body close to his.

It was a secret affair, though you guessed Helaena knew, what with her quiet smiles and knowing nods.  You would often meet the prince in a secluded corner of the Red Keep, sometimes even behind thick drapery, to share brief kisses and whispered promises.  Never long enough, but you treasured each moment like it were the last.

Aemond, calling a break from training, caught your eye with his own and gave you a small wave as Criston turned his back.  You returned it with a slight quirk of your lips, thankful that the other ladies watching him with ardent delight seemed not to notice.  You were not used to any paramour of yours seeking out your gaze amidst a crowd, nor catching you in empty hallways to pull you behind a statue away from prying eyes.

Aemond was different than anyone you had previously been romantic with, he was thoughtful before he spoke, kind only to those closest to him.  You felt yourself, unwillingly, bracing for when he would inevitably lose interest, his soft words and warm kisses yours no longer.

Something he saw in your face, even from such a distance, caused Aemond’s face to fall, his smile slipping.  He placed a hand on Criston’s shoulder, whispering something, returned the weapons to the rack and quickly made his way to you. Frantic giggling and smoothing of skirts came from the women around you as he approached, that walk of his confident and proud as ever.  

“My lady Y/N.”  Aemond gave you a small bow, extending his hand.  “Walk with me a moment.”

You took his proffered hand and, amidst many whispers, let him lead you out of the courtyard and towards your favorite spot in King’s Landing: the royal gardens. The roses were in full bloom and their fragrant scent greeted you on the wind as you and the prince walked hand-in-hand.  Aemond’s hand tightened around yours briefly before he sat with you on one of the stone benches, a gurgling fountain serving as centerpiece to a circle of hedges.  “Tell me what troubles you, I have taken notice of your recent habits of despondency.” Aemond ran the back of his finger down your cheek, prompting you to look into his violet eye.

“Sometimes I wish you weren’t so observant.”  You tried to lighten his concern with a chuckle, but it came out strangled.

“Only for those whom I…” Aemond hesitated only a fraction, but you marked it. “care for.”  He finished.  A gust of wind blew his silken hair over his shoulders, causing you to lean back as the strands tickled your face.

You chuckled more genuinely, and he joined you briefly before growing serious once more.  His curved lips, that you so loved to look at, turned downwards in a frown.  “Is it something I’ve done?”

“No, Aemond.  It’s…I don’t know how to say it.” You wrung your hands in your lap.  “I am not used to being treated with such care as you have shown me.  The men I’ve courted before have always turned on me in one way or another.”

“Name them and I shall make sure they regret their treatment of you.”  Aemond’s one eye hardened with anger.

“No.” You said again. “I do not wish for that; it is over now.  I am simply afraid…afraid you will also…leave.” That last word escaped your mouth in a hushed whisper. The admission left you feeling vulnerable. You lowered your head.

Cool fingers touched your chin, gently raising your gaze to Aemond’s.  He sat a moment in silence, eye roving across your features.  His mouth moved as though he were deciding on what words to say.  Your lips parted, and his eye moved to them, dilating slightly.

Another breeze rustled your satin skirts and at last Aemond spoke, his voice husky. “There is to be a ball tonight.”

“The Harvest Moon celebration.” You nodded, breath catching in your throat.

“I wish for you to accompany me.”  

“Your mother already invited me, Aemond.”

“Y/N, you will arrive to the ball on my arm.” Aemond let go of your chin, smiling slightly at your shocked expression.

He stood as you tried to process all the emotions and thoughts swirling in your head.  “I will meet you at the entrance to the great hall an hour before the festivities are set to begin.”  Aemond, reaching down, took your hand to kiss it. “I must leave you for the present, Y/N.  I’ll see you tonight.”  With a cheeky smile at your continued shocked silence, he turned and departed.

It was quite a while before you found your feet again, wandering slowly back into the Red Keep and to your rooms.  You had become so accustomed to your love affair with Aemond being secret, no notion of him wanting to make it public had entered your thoughts.  Instead of letting you down softly by admitting he couldn’t further your relationship, Aemond was lifting you higher into the blind bliss of love and you dreaded the fall back to reality.

You bathed, rubbed oil of lavender on your pressure points, dotted rouge on your cheeks and lips and even used a charcoal stick to underline your eyes.  You liked your hair loose, as you knew Aemond did too, so you brushed out the tangles and let it fall about you in soft waves.  The gown you chose to wear was cut from dark green velvet, the full skirts brushed the stone floor as you exited your chamber and walked to the great hall.

Aemond stood waiting, clad in his usual dark leather and belts, a long coat about his shoulders and a black eyepatch.  You descended the stairs to him, and he looked up, noticing you, his expression lighting up into a smile and something akin to pride.  

“You look beautiful, my lady.”  He said as you took his arm. Aemond leaned in to place a chaste kiss to your temple, inhaling your scent. “And you smell divine.”

Your eyes snapped up to survey the faces around you, there were several who had noticed the prince’s affection and were whispering behind hands to each other. The sound of music pulled you and Aemond into the grand hall, alight with many fireplaces and flickering torches.  He led you to the raised table where the royals sat, and you curtsied to the Queen and the Hand.  Alicent raised her eyebrows at her son, smiling briefly at you before her father leant in and whispered something to her.

“Come, don’t let my family disquiet you.”  Aemond led you to the far end of the food-laden table where Helaena was sitting.  

She stood and hugged you tightly in greeting, looking with delight between you and Aemond. “It’s wonderful to see you Y/N.  I had so hoped for…and here you are!”  

“Where is Aegon?”  Aemond asked her, looking around for his brother.

“Still sleeping off his lunch I expect.” Helaena answered him with a sad shrug, turning back to her seat.

Aemond made a small sound of disapproval, surveying great room and the many guests filing in.  

Music swelled over the sound of many voices and a number of people got up from their seats, pulling partners to dance.  Aemond took your hand once more. “Dance with me, Y/N.”

You allowed him to tug you several steps forward before balking. “Everyone will see.”

Aemond turned to you and traced your jaw with a finger, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.  “Why do you think I brought you here?”  He placed a hand on your waist and led you into the beginning steps of a dance. “I want them to see.” Aemond extended his arm, still clasping your hand, and spun you around.  Your skirts flared out as you twirled, and he pulled you quickly back into him, causing the fabric to hug around his legs as you continued the waltz.  “I want them to know you are mine.”

Surely enough all eyes were on the two of you, a space even clearing around where Aemond led you.  Some couples, you noticed, even broke apart from their own dance to gawk in surprise.  You giggled, drawing Aemond’s eye to your face. “They’re going to think I’ve bewitched you.”

Aemond’s breath was hot on your mouth as he tucked his head close to yours. “Perhaps you have.”

He hesitated only a moment before bringing his lips to yours, kissing you for the whole room to see. It was a brief kiss, gentle, but heavy with his intent.  When he broke away, Aemond’s eye sparkled with mischief at your expression. “Just in case there was any lingering doubt, I want the world to know what you mean to me and what exactly I intend to do with you.”

[mononijikayu]

kayu's playlist, side 400;

It wasn't as though we never loved each other at all. It just, sometimes.....it's not meant to be. Sometimes it is. And perhaps, that's all that comes with sweet, sad, sing-along songs. Sometimes, that's all that's meant for two people who love each other.

hello, this is kayu!!! first of all, thank you so much for your ardent support and love for my little writings here and there. to think there's four-hundred of you guys following me is kind of crazy. i only started doing fanfic for fun, so i'm very happy that you enjoy it with me too. i write most of these in between my busy life, and it's a relief to me in some way, i destress when writing. i hope that in a way, i do that for you too. i'm writing three stories as a thanks for your support. as it may be obvious, i write stories based on songs i really like at the time or just feel emotionally wrought by. so, these are three short stories that i present as a gift. they'll drop within the next few days, little by little. so please look forward to them!!! i love you all!!! xoxoxoxo

t r a c k o n e ; happy together ─ geto suguru and gojo satoru.

there really isn't much to be done now, it seems. as the realization of your passing settles in, a heavy sigh escapes your lips, accompanied by a gentle rub of the back of your head. the irony of finding yourself in an airport at this moment doesn't escape you; it's almost as if god has a penchant for whimsy in the afterlife. taking a seat on one of the airport benches, you purse your lips in contemplation. you know you'll be waiting here for a while, and oddly enough, that's what you find solace in. suguru and satoru, together. you believe they'll be alright; those two were destined for long, fulfilling lives. at least, that's what you hope for. after all, jujutsu sorcerers aren't typically associated with the concept of 'forever'.

t r a c k t w o ; night flower─ ryomen sukuna.

as he gazes at the statue, the resemblance to your visage is striking, almost intimidating. you had a way of lingering in his thoughts, even after two thousand years had passed, remaining a haunting presence he couldn't shake. strangely, he finds comfort in your ghostly presence; he doesn't want to escape you, if he's honest with himself. his hands reach out tentatively, mirroring the tenderness you once possessed as they brush against the cold stone. it lacks your warmth, yet he tries to conjure the memory of it, knowing your warmth was synonymous with life itself. it's a challenge to forget you; you were unforgettable. he acknowledges that as a man like him, he has no right to mourn—he's no longer truly human. but with you, it's different; you transcended mere humanity. you were his world, his curse, and the ache of longing for you remains.

t r a c k t h r e e ; only fools ─ fushiguro toji.

in the quiet depths of his thoughts, fushiguro toji often finds himself contemplating the bittersweet truth of your relationship. to him, you were like the sun—bright, radiant, and unattainable. and he? he was but a mere moon, destined to orbit around you, never truly belonging to your world. yet, despite the inevitable distance that separated you, his love for you burns steadfastly, unwavering in its intensity. when he made the decision to depart from the zenin clan, he understood that it meant leaving behind any chance of ever crossing paths with you again. still, the memory of you lingers like a haunting melody, weaving its way into the fabric of his existence. though you may never belong to each other, he carries you in his heart, a cherished remnant of a love that was never meant to be.

[third-arch]

Law Rambling-The First Time

A messy and incomplete rambling about “the first time” Trafalgar Law saw Kanna’s body.

NSFW, Trauma, Comfort, Really Sweet, Fluff

In my writing, my OC Kanna goes through a tumultuous two year-ish and mostly one sided relationship. Throughout it all, she endured all kinds of abuse from her multifaceted ex lover, Doflamingo.

“You drew stars around my scars But now I’m bleedin’”

Cardigan-Taylor Swift (Folklore, 2020)

Coming out of the traumatic experience, she was scarred both physically and emotionally. She was scared to talk to people. She hated enclosed spaces and when others locked the doors. Her responses were reactive and defensive.

Physically, her body was a wreck. Scars of all shapes and sizes ran all over her appendages and torso. Her nose had been broken and deformed, too, hence the crookedness.

Similarly to Law, in those moments, she needed trust more than anything else.

She needed someone who would make her feel safe.

Both being pretty much medical nerds, learning to separate their emotions when needed is key to their profession.

So, one of the most beautiful things about Kanna and Law is their respect for their bodies.

Under his care, Law was stern with Kanna. He was quiet and reserved, a complete contrast to her abuser.

When he saw her bare body for the first time, he saw a body.

He saw the abuse, the torment, the demons, all the battles she’d fought.

He truly saw all of her in that moment.

Her breasts, her back, her pelvis, he treated her kindly.

He’d carefully wash Kanna’s body in warm water, his fingers massaging her scalp with soapy water. The sponge would soak up all the dirt and dried blood from her skin as she’d wince in pain.

Law would let her dry off with a clean towel before sterilizing her injuries.

He’d ask her behind the door if she had any allergies or any sort of replacements he’d need to keep in mind.

As he’d examine her, his eyes would be stern and gray. Not a hint of vulnerability.

Law was gentle, carefully studying her reactions for any sign of pain.

He let Kanna know what he was going to do, and would ask each time if she was okay with it.

He’d pause the moment her face tensed up, his hands never faltering or lingering.

Law treated Kanna’s chest with respect. Her arms, her legs, he sewed, stitched, and carefully worked to fix the damage done to her.

He’d take adhesive tape and gauze, pressing them to her wounds and wrapping them with latex bandages.

Throughout his check ups and exams, I don’t think he’d use his Room around her. He knew that Doflamingo must have abused his powers with Kanna, and wanted to let her know that they were equals. No power dynamic, and that his life was just as fragile as hers.

He had initially done this to build trust more than anything. He’s a doctor.

But, Law’s still human, capable of love and full of emotions.

As he cared for Kanna and helped her both physically and emotionally, strange and uncomfortable feelings welled within him.

The more he fell in love with Kanna, the more he fell in love with her beauty.

Her smile, her laughter, that of bells chiming, her kindness, her warmth.

Yet, he was never particularly picky on looks.

Being judged throughout his childhood, he knew very well what it felt like to be seen as “different”.

Beauty was much more complicated in the eyes of Trafalgar Law.

Yet, despite this, all his convictions and fears vanished the moment they made love for the first time.

“I love you. Most ardently.”

Fitzwilliam Darcy-Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen, 1813)

When he saw Kanna’s body again, he saw the woman he loved.

Her breasts were perfect for him. The small of her back was adorable, and her bare shoulders were beautiful.

He didn’t look beyond her scars. They made Kanna even more beautiful.

He’d plant gentle kisses all over them, telling her how beautiful she is.

He’d press his mouth to hers, biting her earlobe as a mischevious smirk would tug at his lips.

Kanna would trace gentle circles along his dimples, calling him beautiful all the while.

Her cheeks flushed, the moonlight kissing her mousy blonde hair, her lips and legs parted for her lover.

The gentle soul of a lonely traveling musician and the longing heart of the Surgeon of Death, making love under a full moon.

He’d cage over her and hold her close, letting her nimble fingers trail over his chest and run along his tattoos.

He wanted her to feel safe and sound.

He wanted to show her just how much he loved her, and just how deeply his feelings ran.

He’d massage her breasts, squeezing and biting them in just the right spots to hear her soft gasps and breathless whispers.

He’d spoil Kanna’s body, kissing and nibbling up and down her appendages, exploring her inner thighs and burying his face in her shoulder.

As he’d press into her, he’d carefully study her reactions. His eyes would be a soft yellow, showing all of his emotions and tenderness in that moment.

He’d carefully study Kanna’s expressions for any pain, begging her to not hide herself or feel scared.

He wouldn’t pressure her, he’d hold her hands, intertwining their fingers together.

Their hot breaths would mingle as they held eachother close, the soft candlelight illuminating their bodies in the afterglow of their lovemaking.

He’d suck on her collarbone, leaving behind small dark markings as he’d mumble to her to take her cranberry supplement.

He’d treat her like he treated the body the first time, a sense of nostalgia filling the room.

The soft white sheets of his bed now wrinkled as they cuddle.

It was like he was falling in love with Kanna all over again.

[sincerelyandyourstruly]

the sun, the moon, & the truth

i used to say that "every opposites attract dynamic eventually distills down to a sun/moon dynamic."

and at first, this seems to hold true for xiaoven as well! i mean, it seems kind of obvious, does it not? venti is happy and bright, a lot of fun and laughter at parties; whereas xiao is quiet and shy, shrouded in darkness and doom. the sun shines a surefire path through the gloom, for through the darkness will always come the dawn; whereas the moon waxes and wanes through the nights, uncertain and untouchable.

i've often seen it said that in a xiaoven sun/moon dynamic, xiao sees venti as his sun, something bright and beautiful and worth every ounce of adoration to be afforded. by contrast, he himself cannot live up to venti's ideals (as much as he secretly yearns to) and views himself as nothing more than a pale reflection, a cold imitation, of that light.

despite this, venti still sees the goodness in xiao, the reflection of that light, and loves it all the same (for the moon is still beautiful), and together, they make one another complete; through venti's light, xiao is (saved) (forgiven) ((set free)) loved.

it's a fairly romantic notion, is it not? for a character to realize that their quiet, reflective nature is something worth loving, and that although they may be surrounded by darkness, that does not make them any less righteous themselves.

but as you study venti's character more closely, start to see the grief and sadness and aching regret underneath his cheerful and carefree facade, it becomes more and more obvious that venti is not really so much of a sun after all. his hopes and ideals were learned from another, from whom he has even taken his entire appearance. he himself is a reflection of someone, something else— the nameless bard and mondstadt— and the light it has living up to its ideals.

and venti knows this. i really don't think he's ever seen himself as much more than a mere reflection of something he admired and wished desperately to become himself, and the other thing is, he tries so hard to embody that which he reflects. to believe venti to be a sun would be to fall for his facade.

now, i believe it was at around the time of the endless suffering trailer that i remember seeing people suddenly start to reevaluate the venti == sun equivocation, specifically because venti in that trailer had been haloed by the moon himself as he welcomed xiao's return. However, what this also meant is that people began to reframe xiao as the sun in this dynamic, which.

yes, it is cool that we are trying to subvert the sun/moon dynamic here. there's a tumblr post that's crossed my dash before that considers this very concept, that of a sun-coded character who views themselves as Too Much, damaging to stare at or be around for too long. but guys.

we can be gay about the sun/moon dynamics by having two moons.

like, party rock with me for a second here and consider it this way: venti is like the bright full moon, shining in the night whilst hiding its dark side underneath; whereas xiao is like the shadow of the moon during a lunar eclipse.

they still have that "opposites attract" kind of vibe this way; it's just that rather than making them into characters who are fundamentally dissimilar, yet ultimately perfectly complimentary, they are each at their hearts exactly the same despite what one may believe at first glance.

comparing xiao specifically to things like the new moon, or the shadow of the moon during an eclipse, highlights the way he tends to bury himself in the shadows of the legacies he carries as his life continues to revolve around his duty to liyue. venti, on the other hand, is just as i stated earlier: he shows that which he reflects very brightly, that which he loves so ardently, like the full moon hiding its secrets and sins beneath itself.

and like, this interpretation doesn't even mean that we can't have that tasty tasty character struggle in xiao where he views himself as lesser than or unworthy of venti's feelings! bc it's fun, y'know, and really easy for xiao to just assume these things abt venti, that he's better or purer or less sinful (far less sinful) than himself.

to xiao, venti is something more beautiful, more divine, more knowledgeable, and more trustworthy than himself. he likely views venti this way for a long time after they first meet and believes it to be true down to the very core of his heart.

but that's in all likelihood simply untrue about venti! as an original archon who partook in the archon war, he absolutely has to have some war crimes under his belt, committed to keep mondstadt safe. or even barring that, his "negligence" (if that's what you want to call his periods of sleeping and leaving mondstadt to its own devices) has led to the suffering of many, such as the days of the aristocracy in mondstadt and the legend of vannessa. just bc venti doesn't talk abt these things explicitly (either by choice or some higher power's force) doesn't mean he does not shoulder their burdens every moment he's alive the way xiao shoulders his karmic debts.

and i think that until he realizes that venti loves gentleness in a person more than he loves vibrancy and life, xiao would probably struggle to understand why venti would fall in love with him (monster that he is). bc venti has seen many a person come and go through the centuries, and he has seen so much bloodshed in his life that i would imagine he values a gentle spirit very highly as a result. and seeing the gentility in xiao? for venti, oh— that's easy.

and yet xiao doesn't see that in himself!! he sees his every move as compensating for his own past sins!!! Until he starts to see past venti's facade, and realizes, oh, we are not so different after all.

(and i think that something similar could happen from venti's end as well— that he sees xiao as lovely and gentle and worth every mite of grace the heavens can grant him, for not a single sin he has been forced to shoulder has been performed by his own willing hands. and i think that he would struggle to accept xiao's love for him, because he believes that what xiao loves is his facade, this idea of what the divine barbatos, not venti, is supposed to be, but once he realizes xiao sees him for himself…!)

it is through falling so deeply and irrevocably in love and then recognizing themselves in one another that xiaoven can achieve some much-needed self-love and acceptance. and that thought makes me wanna sob facedown in a rainy ditch as lightning strikes from above forever and ever and ever.

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

If You Teach a Girl to Kiss...

Summary: Y/N has never been kissed, on screen or off and now she's expected to kiss the sexiest man ever in their upcoming scene. How is she going to manage?

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Not too much. Just kissing. Never been kissed!reader. Age gap. Tiniest hint of a "sir" kink at the very end if you squint hard.

Pairings: Jensen x Y/N (also *kinda* Dean x OFC Kelsey)

Word Count: 2,431

A/N: I got the following request from @kayyay1219:

If it’s not too much to ask but I got another request. Where the reader is a virgin in her early 20s and she has a make out scene with Jensen and Jensen sees how nervous she is so he calms her down and shows her how to kiss because she’s a virgin and doesn’t really know how to do anything. Also can there be a age gap?

Thank you so much for this request, hon! Hope this is what you were looking for! 💓

A/N 2: As always, of course this is a Jensen from another part of the Multiverse, who is single. This is an absolute work of fiction.

The beautiful divider at the bottom was created by @talesmaniac89

Masterlist || Tag Lists

I looked at Dean Winchester, my heart breaking. It had been too much. Too many lost friends, too many monsters, too much pain. I loved Dean with everything inside me, and I just needed him to make all the dark things disappear.

I walked closer to him, and saw his jaw clench. He had so many rules, so many walls that he put up between us, desperate to keep me out of his heart. But I needed him so badly.

I reached out and touched my fingertips to his soft, full lips.  My voice was soft and pleading when I spoke. “Please, Dean. I need you.”

He looked at me with quiet desperation before I could see in his eyes that he was caving, giving in. He clutched my upper arms, dragging me against him and…I…pulled away.

“Shit! I’m sorry!” I called out, embarrassed as the scene dissolved around us and I could almost hear the crew groan. 

This was our fifth try at this very simple scene. It was barely a page of script and I couldn’t get through it.

“Cut! Okay, cut.” I heard Phil call out as I pulled completely away from Dean, well Jensen, in utter embarrassment. “Don’t print that.” He said under his breath to the first AD, Kevin.

I wanted to fall into a hole! 

Of course they weren’t going to print that! It was supposed to be Kelsey’s first kiss with Dean; it was supposed to be full of long-repressed passion, the result of amazing chemistry and months worth of 'will they/won’t they' back and forths between the characters. 

And I had completely fucked it up several times now, by freezing and then actively pulling away from Jensen when he’d followed the script and pulled me to him to kiss me. Kelsey was supposed to throw her arms around Dean’s neck and kiss him back ardently; “hot and fevered” were the words in the script. It was supposed to be Dean with the reservations about the kiss, not Kelsey. 

To be fair, KELSEY had no reservations - it was me, Y/N who had all the reservations. Just…shit!

Phil came up to me with a kind smile. “Hey, Y/N. How ya doin’?”

I shook my head. “I’m so sorry. I’m good. We can just run it again.”

Phil held up a hand. “Hey look, no one expects anything out of you that you’re not comfortable with -”

I cut him off, shaking my head again.  “No, no, really, I’m perfectly comfortable!” The tension rolling off of me said otherwise and Phil looked stumped as to how to proceed. Obviously he needed to get the scene, but he also obviously had no intention of pushing me into a kissing scene I wasn’t okay with.

Jensen saved us both, coming up behind me and squeezing my shoulders. “Hey Phil, could you give us a bit of time, like an hour? Could we call an early lunch?”

Phil nodded, looking relieved that someone he trusted was taking over the problem. “Absolutely. Okay everyone, that's lunch! Back in an hour!” The crew dispersed, slowly but surely wandering away from the set. 

Jensen grabbed my hand and threw me a soft smile. “Come on, let’s go to my trailer for lunch.”

I nodded and followed behind him easily. I had no idea what I was going to do. This job was everything to me, I loved being on set, absolutely loved the crew and all the rest of the cast. 

I’d come on the show as a guest star for only a couple episodes, but as often happened on the show, Kelsey’s character, a badass newbie hunter, had caught on with the fans, and they’d championed the character into a bigger role on the show. 

Jensen and I seemed to have chemistry immediately, at least that’s what everyone said. To be honest, though, I’m pretty sure it was all Jensen; the man would have chemistry with a wet dish rag. 

But the characters had chemistry too, and very quickly the writers picked up on it and started to write to it, coming up with situations to build the tension and the relationship between them. 

Kelsey was quite a bit younger than Dean; she was a little younger than me too, actually. Kelsey was twenty-two (sixteen years younger than Dean) I was twenty-four (fourteen years younger than Jensen). The age gap was a major reason why Dean had wanted to keep his distance from Kelsey, believing she was way too young for him. But also, being typical Dean, he felt he was too dark and too broken for her too. Kelsey saw Dean as a mentor, but more than anything else she saw him as the man she loved. She had no qualms about being with him, but he’d shot her down a couple times already.

In other words, everything had been leading to this moment between them, where the undeniable attraction had reached its peak, and Kelsey was desperate for Dean to kiss her, to admit to their connection and help her by giving her something sweet and light in her otherwise bleak, hunter life.

It was a ridiculously big scene, and I was fucking it up.

Finally we reached Jensen’s trailer and went inside. Jensen took off Dean’s jacket and flannel, folding them carefully over the back of a chair so he didn’t piss off the wardrobe department. He wore only a green t-shirt and jeans now and I did my best not to sigh lustfully as he bent into the mini-fridge and pulled out a couple bottles of water for us.

Jesus, he was beautiful, which was part of the problem. Not that being sexy as fuck was really something he could control.  But Jensen was a ridiculously beautiful man, and in spite of spending months telling myself he wasn’t going to be interested in a costar that way, I couldn’t deny just how attracted I was to him. Every day I found myself a little more enamored, a little more besotted. 

And now I had to kiss him.  Man, I was screwed!

Jensen sat down beside me on the couch and cracked open the bottle for me. I took a deep gulp of it, trying to wet my parched throat.

“Okay, sweetheart, what’s up?”

I just shrugged at him, so he tried to guess.  “Is it kissing on film? Is it too awkward? I know this is the first time you’ll be doing a kissing scene, so it’s bound to be even more awkward than these scenes usually are. Or…or is it…” 

He trailed off for a minute and picked at the label on the water bottle.  “Is it the age difference? Does it make you uncomfortable?”

I quickly shook my head. “No, Jensen, not at all. I don’t see age like that. Past a certain point, we’re all just people. It’s nothing to do with you…it’s me…”

I was quiet for a second before I finally just bit the bullet and told him.  “I’ve never been kissed before.”

Jensen nodded.  “On screen.” I threw him a look to tell him he was being obtuse and he finally caught on. “Oh!”

I could feel myself blushing and covered my face with my hands.  “I know! This is so humiliating.”

Jensen pulled my hands away, shaking his head.  “Hey! You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

I found myself desperate to try and explain.  “See, it’s just that for a long time, I didn’t feel very comfortable in my own skin; it took me a long time to feel…I don’t know okay, with being…intimate with someone.” I knew my face was just getting redder and redder.

But Jensen frowned and shook his head.  “Hey, Y/N, you don’t owe me, or anyone, an explanation. Your choices are your choices, you don’t have to have them okayed by anyone.”

I smiled at him appreciatively.  “Thank you.” But then I let out another little moan.  “I don’t know what I’m going to do here, though.”

An idea struck me, and my eyes widened.  “Unless -” But I cut myself off.  “No, that’s…nevermind.” I said, waving the idea away. 

“No, what?” Jensen asked.

I contemplated for a minute and then finally decided I had nothing to lose, either Jensen would say yes, and maybe I’d get through this experience, or he’d say no, and I’d only be a little bit more embarrassed than I already was. 

“Well…I was wondering if…I mean, could we practice?”

Jensen’s eyebrows shot up. “The uh…the scene…or…?” He left the question dangling there, obviously loathe to make assumptions.

I shook my head.  “No, it’s not about knowing the lines, or the blocking. That’s all fine. It’s the fact that I have absolutely no idea how to kiss someone, and I’m terrified that’s gonna become real obvious, real quick on camera.”

Jensen bit into his bottom lip and I had to hold back a groan. Jesus, this was either going to be the best moment in my life or the worst.

I back pedaled a little.  “Look, if it’s too weird or something, I mean, don’t feel you have to, or you know…”

Jensen shook his head.  “No, I think…I think it’s probably the smartest course.” His eyes flicked down to my mouth and I felt my stomach muscles clench. 

Holy shit, this was happening!

“Kay.” I said softly, turning slightly towards him.

“Yeah,” he said with a smile, his voice soft and deep, “you’re gonna need to get a little closer.”

I shuffled a bit on the couch trying to find a spot and a position where I could be comfortable and reach him easily. Finally Jensen just lifted me into his lap and I let out a little squeak of surprise.  

Jensen grinned.  “Is this okay? It’s just easier access.”

I nodded and tried to ignore the way his thick, muscular thighs felt beneath me, or the feel of his broad chest pressed up against my shoulder. One of his arms was snaked around my waist, holding me comfortably on his lap, and the other lifted to trail his fingers gently across my cheek.

“Just breathe, sweetheart, and let me show you what to do.”

I nodded again, and took a deep, steadying breath.  But I couldn’t speak as he swept his fingers, featherlight, down my neck, his thumb swiping softly over the corner of my mouth. 

“First, I’m just going to press my lips against yours gently.” His voice was just above a whisper, deep, slightly raspy, and utterly seductive. “All I want in this first pass is to get a feel for the give of your lips, to experiment with their softness.”

He bent his head and I could feel a spark ignite as he touched his lips to mine. A short, high moan issued from the back of my throat as the soft pillows of his lips pressed against me. He lingered only a second or two, pulling back slightly and then pressing forward one more time, slotting his mouth around my top lip and sucking ever so gently. But I still felt the pull lower down, as heat and damp pooled at my core.

He pulled back completely and I slowly opened my eyes to look up into his mossy green orbs; they were warm and reassuring.  

“Good, that was good.” He said.  His voice sounded a bit strained and I prayed it was because the kiss had affected him too.

I nodded and blushed; this was the best class I’d ever been a part of.

“So, you ready to go a little further?”

“Yes.” I answered quickly, making him chuckle.

“Okay, this time I’m going to kiss you for longer, and you’re going to feel my tongue press against your lips. That just means I want you to open up for me, means I wanna taste you.”

My breathing picked up at his words and I nodded frantically, reaching up for his lips, ready for his next lesson.  But he held back, teasing me. 

“Now, now,” he said with a smirk, “wait for your teacher to tell you to begin before starting the lesson.” 

His smirk melted into a warm smile as he pushed his hand into my hair, cupping the back of my head. He moved slowly to touch his mouth to mine again - too slowly for my sanity. So before he could even press his tongue against me, I opened my mouth to let him in.

A deep growl came up from his chest as he swept his tongue into my mouth. Instinctively I copied his movements, desperate to taste him too. I raised my hand to the back of his neck, playing with his short hair as he slanted his mouth over mine again and again, sucking first on my tongue and then on my lips, pulling on them greedily, nibbling at them hungrily. 

I let him feast and feast, not caring about my lack of oxygen, not caring about the time that passed, not caring about anything other than the feel of his velvety tongue and plush lips, crushed against mine.

Finally Jensen pulled away to rest his forehead on mine, breathing roughly. “Jesus, Y/N, either you were lying about this being your first kiss, or you are one hell of a fast learner.”

I grinned as I sucked much needed air into my lungs. “I just have one hell of a teacher.”

***

An hour later we were back on set. Our lips were a little swollen, making me sure that the make-up artists would definitely figure out how we’d spent the hour. But Jensen assured me it wasn’t too noticeable. Very quickly we were on our marks and ready to try again. 

I could hear the hope combined with worry in Phil’s voice as he yelled, “Action!”

I reached out to touch Dean’s soft lips.  “Please, Dean. I need you.”

My voice was desperate and urgent and finally Dean could no longer resist and yanked me forward, crashing me into his chest as he slammed his mouth against mine.

I let out a strangled cry and threw my arms around his neck. His strong arms wrapped tightly around my ribs lifting me off the ground as he strode forward until he had me crushed against the wall.

I slid back down his body to land on my feet, as he cupped my face in his hands. He plunged his tongue into my mouth…tasting me fully…and then…

“Cut! Fantastic guys! That was great.” Phil called out from behind the monitor. “Okay, let’s go for the close ups.”

As the crew bustled around us, Jensen leaned close to whisper against my ear. "Can I expect to see you back in class, bright and early tomorrow?"

With a small shiver, I swayed towards him. "How about an evening class tonight, teach?"

He bit into his lower lip, and gave me a look that had my heart racing and heat blossoming across my skin without so much as a touch from him.

"Hell yeah." He answered me. "Class starts at seven, and I expect you to be prompt and punctual, Ms. Y/L/N."

I giggled, slightly breathless with anticipation. "Yes, Sir."

1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays. @lyarr24 @siospins2 @impalaslytherin @maggiegirl17 @akshi8278 @candy-coated-misery0731 @nt-multi-fandom @deanswaywardgirl @slytherinlyn314 @globetrotter28 @jensensgirl @perpetualabsurdity @tristanrosspada-ackles @djs8891 @muhahaha303 @kayyay1219 @emily-winchester

3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.) @sunshineandwings86 @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7

4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well) @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @awkward-and-indecisive @maliburenee @supernatural4life2022 @spn730015 @b3autyfuldisast3r @kickingitwithkirk @waywardbaby @foxyjwls007 @deanwanddamons @deandreamernp @deanwithscissors @myloversgone @snowlovespie @leigh70 @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @fangirlxwritesx67 @charred-angelwings @hopefuldreamers-world @mysherlock221b @jensensgotyoudean @stixnstripesworld @thoughts-and-funnies @magssteenkamp @norman1967 @princessmisery666 @eevvvaa @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy @b-i-t-c-h-i-e @twirpbunwarrior @mysweetlittledesire @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @bernasaurus @jensenslady79 @courtn92 @avanatural @ellie-andthemachine

[heartsmadeofbooks]

[Preview] New Fic: Cause and Effect

Hi everyone! It’s been a while but I’m finally, finally back with a new fic.

This story is structured around the Keane album of the same title, and each chapter focuses on one song from it (sometimes one song spans two chapters, but you get the drill). I had a lot of fun when I wrote Sing to me instead with this same dynamic, and since the moment I first listened to C&E, I knew it had to be turned into a story, so I was just waiting for the right time, and the right plot.

And here it is, at last.

The story isn’t yet finished, I’m still working on it, but I’m close enough to the end that I feel good about starting to post it. But first, I thought I’d share with you a little preview :)

Cause and Effect will begin on Wednesday, July 12th, and it will update every Wednesday. My wonderful beta @christinejaneanderson​ is once again the one in charge to help me see my silly typos and fix my prepositions, and the beautiful artwork featured below was made by @nerdishedits​. 

Without further ado, here’s the preview of the first chapter of Cause and Effect.

See you all on Wednesday for the rest of it ♥

The house was quiet, but it wasn’t going to last long, because it never did. The alarm hadn’t gone off yet, and Blaine wasn’t sure what had woken him up – he didn’t even notice the sound of traffic or ambulances driving past his window anymore, and he was still tired enough to sleep for another hour or two. He rolled to his side, hoping to get comfortable and slip back into dreamland, his hand settling on his husband’s chest. Jack was deeply asleep, and he was snoring quietly (maybe that was what had woken Blaine up, after all), like he always did after a particularly long and difficult surgery. He had spent too many hours alert and focused the previous day, and that always exhausted him.

Blaine sighed. Now that he was awake, his head was already making an automatic list of everything that needed to be done that day. From taking the trash out to booking a dentist appointment, from restocking the pantry to buying a birthday present for Jack’s secretary. It was usually Blaine who made sure their home life ran smoothly, who took care of all those little details Jack had never been quite able to bother himself with. When they first started dating, Blaine had found that actually charming: Jack was a genius in his field and all he cared about was saving lives.

Ten years into their marriage, he wasn’t exactly sure the word charming had been the one he had been looking for.

It wasn’t that Jack was a pompous asshole. What he did was noble and even heroic sometimes – even if his bank account saw the reflection of it, so it wasn’t entirely selfless. Blaine loved that he was passionate about his job. He certainly didn’t want to need surgery and find that the guy performing it couldn’t give two shits about doing his job. He knew that a life filled with passion was a life worth living.

He just wished that passion was present more than in just their careers.

It kind of would have been nice to find it in the bedroom.

Blaine groaned a little and then paused to check he hadn’t woken Jack up, but he was still snoring quietly. He didn’t want to sound ungrateful for the life they had. It was just that, at thirty-six, he had thought they still had a few ardent, sexy years ahead of them. Blaine still felt young, was still healthy, and he was very much human. There were itches he wanted to scratch. And it wasn’t that Jack was uninterested – it was just that half the time, when he was home, he was either too exhausted from work, or too distracted with the children.

Having children also kind of put a damper on their sex lives.

Still worth it, Blaine thought. He wouldn’t change his kids for anything. But just because he was a father, it didn’t mean he stopped being a husband. He wanted adult conversation, he wanted to go on dates that didn’t involve the children, he wanted to look at his husband and feel like they were still those young men who had fallen in love and hardly kept their hands off of each other, who found it impossible to. He knew it wasn’t as easy these days – sometimes they couldn’t get a nanny, or the baby started crying at the worst possible time, or their daughter puked her dinner all over the couch. It wasn’t easy to feel sexy, to want to be sexy, when you were covered in snot and the remains of SpaghettiO’s.

But sometimes he couldn’t help thinking that he had stopped being desirable to his husband.

It shouldn’t have made him feel so miserable, and yet… here he was.

What was their life going to be like when they were forty-six? And what about at fifty-six? Would they have to wait to be a couple again until the children went to college? Would they even be able to get back what they had postponed after so long?

Blaine opened his eyes and took a quick glance at the clock on Jack’s nightstand. The alarm wasn’t going to go off for another ten minutes. Some other time, ten minutes wouldn’t be nearly enough. Today… it felt like a little blessing.

He scooted closer and started kissing Jack’s neck, hands already roaming over his chest, fingertips catching on hair and the peak of his nipples. Jack made a low sound in the back of his throat but didn’t wake up, so Blaine decided to be a little more drastic.

He let his hand go further south and he was about to curl his fingers around him over his underwear when a loud scream carried through the apartment.

“Daddy! Can I have chocolate milk?”

Blaine deflated and let his head fall momentarily on his husband’s shoulder. It would only be ten more seconds before Lena started pounding on their bedroom door, demanding his attention. And that would amount to waking up Jack in a lot less sexy way than he had planned.

He sighed and got out of bed.

[4shotsofspooky]

5 Headcanons about Morticia Addams

I. Judging from the fact that in each adaptation of the Addams family story Morticia displays not only feminine manners but also skills in handling weapons, playing musical instruments, knowledge of classical literature, foreign languages, chemistry, physics and botany, she has received an excellent education in her time, and her demure demeanour and welcoming as mistress of the house all relatives without exception, even those who may not be the most desirable, suggest an upbringing that was typical of children in wealthy families who could afford it. Most likely, the Frump family sent both daughters to a boarding school, where the girls could not only learn various sciences, but also develop existing talents and skills. This only confirms that Morticia really could have studied at Nevermore… And that she wasn't so simple. After all, there was also Ophelia….

II. Morticia Addams is an excellent mother, very sensitive to the needs of her children, but also able to curb their very difficult characters. She has taken care to home-school her children before school, and both of them are probably ahead of their classmates in intellectual development: even the quiet Pugsley is a talented pyrotechnician, and this indicates an excellent knowledge of at least chemical processes and physics. Morticia willingly allows them to develop their skills and do things that bring pleasure, even if it threatens the integrity and safety of the house, but from time to time keeps a tight grip on them(and at the same time on her husband and others in the house) : probably thanks to this Wednesday and Pugsley have not yet nailed each other.

III. Morticia is a model of self-control. A woman so perfectly in command of her emotions could easily be a CIA agent, fooling all the polygraphs and giving out a half-dead heartbeat until Gomez says "cara mia". Whenever they have guests in the form of various relatives, she remains admirably unperturbed, as if she knew perfectly well of their intention to arrive, so that even if she wants to send them away with a kick in the arse, the guests do not even know about it and kiss the hands of the lady of the Addams' house. To think of what might really be lurking in the thoughts of this enchanting lady of spades…

IV. There could hardly be a better mistress of the house than she is: with a skilful management of available means, Morticia creates order and 'Addamsian' comfort in the house, keeping the household under her control so that the reigning matriarchy does not hurt Gomez in the slightest. He seems to love his clever wife and is happy to show this feeling always and everywhere: even after all these years his ardent Spanish nature is completely at the mercy of the black charm of Morticia Addams.

V. Morticia Addams is probably not fully human. It is true that often in answers to the question of what she is, we are assured that Morticia is perfectly ordinary, just that she has a peculiar way of life and a touching fondness for it through the cult of death. This may well be admitted, but can a lifestyle be an antidote to the deadly plants in her greenhouse or the far from healthy bites of the same spiders? And if we remember the approximate menu of meals in the Addams family (crocodile's feet, bilberry, eyes of newt), then there are involuntary suspicions whether these Addamses are so ordinary, and what kind of blood flows in their children. And even if we go back to the origins, 'Morticia' and 'Ophelia' are definitely not ordinary names. Of course, it could just be a tribute to mother Frump's taste… Or maybe there's a darker story behind it. Shall we investigate?

[maries-gallery]

Congratulations on your milestone! 👏 I'd like to make the following request:

Jean + “In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

Thank you! 💜

all the ways to say I love you event

Violet! Thank you so much for sending in a request! An amazing one at that <3

Hope you like it!

genre: fluff, love confession

warnings: none

wc: 989

The vibrant flame of a lone candle flickered on the desk, casting  a warm glow on a tower of books and Jean’s features. A frown etched between his brows, he squinted, trying to decipher the words on the pages.

“In…vain…” He whispered, unsure of himself as he read through a sentence.

He didn’t know how long had passed since he’d first entered the mansion’s giant library, but he was nowhere near done with his homework. The moon could frown upon him all she wanted; he wouldn't leave this room until he had read a chapter of this book.

Until he could be sure you’d be proud of him.

His thoughts wandered over to you. To your kind smile and patience. To the soft scent of your hair that he admits to have found solace in a few too many times during your teaching lessons.

He hoped you were asleep.

Jean had tried so hard to isolate himself.

To stay away from people and cage himself in his loneliness, chided in darkness for only his inner demons to see.

A monster to humanity. A disgrace to gods above.

A sin.

And keeping to himself had never been an issue, so used he was to his own melancholy and loneliness. Confining himself to the walls of his bedroom or the grand arches of the church.

Maybe if he hid away from the world he could hope for redemption.

It hadn’t been easy for you to push your way through the walls he had built around himself, so thick and high they were.

The task had been even more daunting as he had resisted, resisted against anything kind and everything you provoked inside of him.

It had started small, a mere spark of something akin to hope. A flicker of light he had been quick to shush in its bud.

So long he had believed that he deserved nothing. No light, no warm feeling, no tender gestures. None of your smiles.

So long had he convinced himself that nothing should he feel but guilt and self hatred.

But you had persisted, in spite of all the times he had pushed you away. You had insisted on spending time with him and on teaching him how to read and write. On leading him out of the darkness and to the light of knowledge.

You had opened a whole new world to him. Not only through the discovery of words and written letters, but by granting him the door to salvation.

Slowly he had granted himself the right to open up, to think of himself as a flawed man rather than an immortal monster drenched in blood and sins.

A quiet smile curved his lips, his heart softening in his chest at the thought of you.

“In vain… Have… I struggled?” He continued, reading aloud to himself to try and get the grasp of the words on his tongue. The more he practiced the more natural they came.

He hoped to be able to read poems aloud for you, one day.

“Jean?”

He stiffened, dark eyes coming up in a haste to fall on your surprised features.

There you stood in the doorway of the library, clothed in your nightgown and drenched in silver moonlight.

“Mademoiselle.” He answered, quietly.

“What are you doing so late at night?” You asked, walking up to him, concern laced in your gaze. Your eyes fell on the Jane Austen novel in his hands.

“I could ask you the very same thing.” He said, voice soft. “Is everything alright?”

You offered him a smile, “Yes, excuse me for worrying you, I couldn’t sleep and thought I might as well read something.”

He stood up, closing the book, “Let me escort you back, then.”

“I am fine, Jean, thank you. But what are you doing up so late?” You placed a hand on his arm, inviting him to sit back down. You took a seat beside him.

His pale cheeks flushed pink, eyes averting from yours in an attempt to flee from the embarrassment creeping up his chest.

Quietly, you seized the book in front of him, observing the torn pages, features softening in gentle recollection.

You couldn’t help but wonder what had first attracted Jean to this particular volume though.

“Jane Austen is a wonderful author.” You spoke, fingers tracing the lines on the cover, “Why chose this one, Jean?”

His heart sped up, its beat loudly hammering in his chest. Yet, he answered.

“I…-I saw you reading it a few weeks back, Mademoiselle… And thought it might be good.” He answered honestly.

He had wondered about what kind of book could have made you smile like this one did. He had decided to see for himself.

“Would you like for us to read it together?” You offered, looking through the pages, “Where were you at?”

Quietly he pointed out the line.

Your features lit up in recognition, a grin breaking on your features. “My favourite!”

At the sight of your excitement he couldn’t repress a smile of his own, eyes softening as he gazed at you.

“In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.” You read aloud, Jean listening intently.

For some reason the words stuck to him, neatly tucked in a corner of his mind. He didn’t know what had made it so special back then.

Not until he succeeded in untangling the bundle of feelings swirling in his chest when it came to you.

And then one day, as he held your hands in his, desperate to let go, dark eyes boring into yours with the intensity of a million nights, the words finally made sense.

“In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

[loveandleases]

Ok ok, so Chris cheating on MC with their older sister STINGS

but stealing the doggo??? Hell nah, they crossed the line 😤😤😤

but fr tho, ty for sharing such a fun concept! got me hook, line and sinker and i can’t stop thinking abt it even as i log off of tumblr 😔✊

i just got one question if you don’t mind! it’s totally understandable if you can’t if it’s spoilery. so! if G was an ex and knew Chris, did the falling out had to do with the MC getting with Chris afterwards?? i’m sure you can’t spill all of your amazing writing skills here just yet, and i’m happy with whatever choices you make as the writer of this if. cheating is a messy subject, and i’m not really going to judge anyone since each person’s opinion and experience will differ. i’m just a really emotional person, so if MC did do that to G, I’m going to feel terrible for them 🥹

also, i’m going to romance the hell out of all the ros !! thank you for the delicious content and thanks for reading my long message 🥰🥰

The doggo is life! Glad to know you like it! I love long messages makes me feel less guilty about some of the ones I type. I got you anon! Since we are at spoiler territory I can't go into the nitty gritty, but I will say MC didn't cheat on G or G on MC for that matter. G doesn't get close to people like very few, that included MC, Cam, and Chris. I couldn't let anyone cheat on our precious quiet one. The only one you need to worry about cheating atm is Ardent's cat. I hope you love them all! Thanks for the kind words~

[terrence-silver]

Valek headcanons with his beloved?

---

― Love is eternal for a vampire and doubly so for one so loyal and devoted as Jan Valek. He's dedicated to his people. To his coven. To what he feels like is their plight. To the cult that sprouted out around them and himself over the centuries as the patron saint of the unliving. He's dedicated to avenging them. Shielding them. Leading them. Being their father. The father of all vampires and the first of their kind. Giving them ability to walk under god's sunlight, or at least fighting to reach this goal. He's devoted to the very concept of devotion in equal measure. A group of vampire hunters hurting and killing even the lowliest grunts that belong to him is enough for him to massacre a hotel full of said hunters singlehandedly in retaliation, because every one of his pack counts, even the most seemingly miniscule of members is someone worthy of justice in his eyes. So, one can only begin to understand what truly love means to him. Love in all shapes. Love for his kin. Love for his beliefs. Love of the romantic sort, in this case. His zeal is simply fierce, albeit elegantly subdued most times. Most times.

― So, when he finds his beloved, he's found them. This zeal kicks in and he considers it a thing of destiny --- of fate --- giving it an almost religious connotation, although he's as far from holiness as he can be and he has an innate understanding of that. Nonetheless, he thinks God himself has given him a rare mercy in his six hundred years of being a vampire. He thinks you're a blessing. His blessing. In fact, he's convinced of it. He thinks you're divine providence. He thinks you're a being of light. Beauty. An angel. His sun. He's hardly pious about his emotions or their scale even though he was a priest in his former human life, but he's not unkind either. He's intense, yet gentle. Enamored, yet sweet. Sexual and dangerous, yet unusually respectful. He proclaims his ardent love fairly quickly for a being that has all the time in the world simply because he's a man of impulse and honesty. He could take a mere whiff of his beloved's scent from afar. Perhaps, gaze into their eyes for the first time, and he'd just know. Feel it. They're meant for him. Wouldn't it to be a sacrilege not to be sincere about such things outright?

― Of course, it can only aid his cause when his whole coven, wherever they might be in the world, is mentally connected to him and they feel what he feels too. See what he sees. Sense the scope of their master's longings. Of his love. Of his yearning. Feel that Father Valek's beloved is meant to be his beloved and can optionally function like a virtual army off to do his bidding, retrieving beloved for him if they ever ran and taking them where they belong and should be, by the eternal groom's side, extreme circumstances and all, not that this necessary because he can be oh so kind all on his own. Oh, so considerate. Oh, so tender. To the point it is easy to just...forget...that he is a vampire at all, least of all, the most dangerous, deadly and ancient of his kind. He's quiet. Calm. Seductive. Lulling. He doesn't want to scare his beloved. He just wants them by his side and his verbal oratory is sufficient enough for him to very ardently and very patiently convince them of this, no powers needed. Just his words. His presence. A kiss on the lips. The neck. The hands, in an almost antiquated gesture. Then lower, between their legs.

― If his beloved was human, would he turn them? For a vampire whose entire goal is becoming a Daywalker (and ensure all of his vampires are Daywalkers too) by acquiring the Cross of Berziers, Jan is very unlikely to bereft his mortal love of what he considers the light of all lights. The joy of enjoying daytime, even though he himself cannot. Of enjoying the sun. The full experience of what means to be a person unhindered by being condemned to infinite darkness. In fact, his motivation to become a Daywalker himself and walk by their side becomes even firmer, more resolute, borderline revolutionary, so rather than turning beloved into a vampire, he'd much rather work on changing his own circumstances instead so they can coexist equally, side by side under the heavens, demonstrating an odd selflessness and even consideration. Dare I say, moral values? His holy crusade turns even more personal. With the element of love added to the mix, Jan Valek wants to be able to walk in sunlight so he can walk with you; a cause he'd kill for. Die for. Martyr himself for, and it isn't even the first time he's been martyred.

― But, he's not just a noble romantic, and his priestly, saintly, formerly Christian and very Catholic sensibilities can run very thin very fast when his beloved is threatened. In any danger whatsoever. In jeopardy. Bodies can pile up by the hundreds and entire villages, outposts, groups of vampire hunters, monasteries and settlements can end up eradicated within hours because he'd singlehandedly massacre them for his love with no question and laugh while doing so, but in equal measure, once he's done, with the same bloody hand he's done the terrible deed with he's capable of caressing beloved's cheeks, reassuring them and comforting them amid the carnage he's created for them and because of them, treating them like someone or something breakable and fragile, ensuring them it is all fine, right before scooping them up and carrying them off into the night and into safety, ever gentle, ever careful, oscillating from one extreme to another. Prince Valiant he is not. Except every now and again.

― He makes love with the same dedicated selflessness and he leans towards pleasing rather than being pleased himself --- even though, you being pleased is very much his pleasure as well and there's no two ways around it. He's a kind lover. Truly and nonironically. He's a willing and eager giver, primarily. He thinks beloved moaning, throwing their head back, begging, pleading, curling their toes, riddled with lust and desire and being flushed with contentment is a beautiful sight. A sight angels could only envy. A sight that belongs on a fresco of some coveted church, to be admired and worshipped, even though he'd rather not have unworthy eyes gaze upon it. On you. A sight he loves seeing again and again and again as he tastes them, hits all the right spots, drinks their blood, feeds them his own, puts his hands around their neck, careful not to break them, grazes them with his teeth, his fangs, as he holds them down, whispers praises and psalms in their ears, loving beloved's body, lavishing every erogenous spot, ensuring they feel heavenly, as they should.

[madame-fear]

Unfixed | DK! Dad! Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader

summary : Jonathan is left as a single dad after his wife got murdered. When Jonathan meets you, he is head over heels for you despite he's still awfully mourning the death of his previous wife – but you can tell, he is not ready to start a new relationship.

requested? : yes! by my beloved @gothy-froggy through dm.

genre : angst.

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The wailing sirens of the ambulances and the police cars still resonated through Jonathan's head, as if he were still living the moment. Torment weighed both mentally and physically ever since his wife got robbed, and murdered while coming home after work. Not only it had left him with a bitter feeling of resentment for the scum that inhabited Gotham, but it was distressing for the child Jonathan and his now deceased lady wife had in common.

The only lady he's ever gotten to truly love, and form a beautiful small family with, was gone forever. Brutally taken away from him. The moment still lived in Jonathan's mind, painfully reminding him of the bloody crime scene, as the police informed him and his little child about the violent passing of his wife. Jonathan thought, right after that moment, that he wouldn't be able to love someone as much as he did with his previous wife – but that wasn't until he met you. A familiar sensation of being overwhelmed, in a good way, at the sight of you filled his mind, and caused him to oddly feel full once again. The exceptionally gracious, charming personality you had was something that didn't took him long to like; and it strangely reminded him of his deceased wife.

You were a new psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum, and you had met each other after asking him to guide you around the chilly, harrowing building. The very first impression of him you had, was that he was rather cold, and seemed quite indifferent to everything. Of course, that was his everyday mood and personality – but, for his colleagues who had known him for years, he had only worsened. His colleagues had told you about the vicious assault his wife suffered, which immediatly led to her murdering, right after you met him. You understood, why his cold stare and general way of being hit you in a different way. A short while after that, you kindly approached him by making a small chat. In that small chat, you were extremely gentle and careful regarding the topic of his wife's death, but you mentioned it, and offered your kind apologies; offering your help as well, in case he or his child needed anything at all, making sure he'd know you were there.

Breaking out his shell – his little safe place – was difficult at first. It's not that he didn't trust you, but he just felt as if no one could truly understand the great weigh of having recently lost a beloved partner, and being alone with a small child. At the moment, he simply politely smiled at you, and gave you a single nod as he muttered a quiet 'thank you'; but as the time passed by, and the more he got to properly know you, he realised how pure of heart you were, which lead to an unwanted, fervent crush, much to his own dismay. The ardent, growing crush he had for you made him, in some way, feel guilty at the thought of it replacing his previous wife. He could never do that, but you were just... so enchanting, in many ways. Then, he started inviting you to dinner at his home after work, so you could properly meet him as well, and his little child.

Meeting you outside work only boosted his crush on you, especially at the sight of how sweetly you treated his child – just as if you were it's mother. The grieving of his wife was something rather fervid to feel, just by looking deeply into his eyes. The way he talked to you about it, was something truly heart-breaking to see, and something you knew, he hasn't quite gotten over with – and reasonably. Unbeknownst to him, you also quite fancied him, as in more than a simple friendship, but you knew he surely wasn't prepared for such commitment.

Eating dinner at his home was nearly like a routine to you, which was, exactly what you had done this night, just like the other previous nights. Right after dinner, you helped him put the child to sleep, and then you grabbed your bag – along with your car keys – and he took you outside so he could wave you goodbye. As the two of you walked outside, the chilly wind of the night softly hit your faces, blowing some thin strands on your face as you walked. “Thank you for everything, dear. See you tomorrow as always?” You finally spoke, turning around and quickly kissing his cheek before you left. His cheek became a reddish colour, and awkwardly nodded at you. “Yes. See you tomorrow as always.” As he spoke, his voice was quiet, while his lips turned into a measly smile that he couldn't bear for too long. Politely smiling back at him, you turned around and opened your car so you could get inside – your footwear clicked on the harsh, cold ground as you walked.

“(y/n),” Jonathan abruptly spoke as he watched you prepare yourself to leave. Turning your head around, you looked at him, before you fully got into your car and made your way home. “Yes?” slightly furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, a small worry began taking over your body at seeing how angsty and downhearted he looked. Jonathan took a deep breath before he fully spoke – was he truly prepared for starting a commitment with someone new? He thought. A choking, heavy lump immediatly formed on his throat at the thought of having to 'replace', in a way, the empty spot his deceased wife left. “I... love you. I want to be with you.” The words that came from his mouth made your eyes widen in surprise. Your lips partly opened to respond, but nothing rather than a mere stumbling upon your own words came from your lips. You harshly closed your eyes for a brief moment, recomposing yourself and rearranging the words in your mind. As you slowly started re-opening your eyes, you saw that Jonathan was slowly making his way towards you.

“Jonathan–” He interrupted you by placing a finger on your soft lips, shushing you. “I want you. You fill the empty gap that was left inside of me. You remind me so, so incredibly much of her, I truly can't see you by my side... please. I know you might not be ready, or even reciprocate my feelings, but I am begging you to stay by my side.” His eyes had started to become a watery mess with every word he spoke, lips unwantedly quivering. Obviously, he wasn't the man that dared to show any type of emotions, but you got the best of him... he needed you so badly, he yearned for something – or someone – that could fill the empty void that weighed on him everyday of his life. At the sight of him being so broken, so out of himself, you deeply sighed and tenderly took his face with both your hands.

“I love you too, Jonathan.” Relief appeared on his eyes at your words. “But, I can tell, you haven't stopped mourning your wife. I can tell how much you miss her warm presence around you.” It was indeed a very emotional moment, even for you, at seeing him breaking down and melting under your touch – your soft spot growing even softer than it already was for him. You felt your eyes getting watery as well, but you had to keep yourself calm so you can rationally help him. “You aren't ready for a commitment, it's only going to make you feel worse. You should really get over this pain before you can start a new relationship, yes? I promise, I'll stay here by your side, until we're both ready for the next step.”

Jonathan weakly nodded in agreement, tears casually running down his cheeks as you wiped them with your thumbs. “I love you too. But please, focus on your well being, and on your baby's well being. You have all the time in the world to be in a new relationship. Take care of yourself, I will help you.” You placed a caring kiss on his forehead, and he immediatly wrapped your body tightly with both his arms, feeling the warmth of his body. You returned the embrace, softly rubbing his back as he quietly cried to himself at the horrid moment when he found out his wife died, always replaying in his head and causing him to fall in a downward spiral.

You were right, after all. He badly yearned and longed for your touch and love, it didn't matter whether he fixed his own pain or not... he wanted you, and only you by his side. But, if you were going to be by his side offering him your warm comfort until he could process the bad moments and succesfully overcome it, he was more than willing to wait to be in a relationship with you. And he was going to do whatever was in his power to be with you: starting by fixing himself.

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♡ taglist : ♡

@wittywitchness @anemicroyalties @imagine--if @scarecrow-jon-babe

[melmedarda]

HELLLOOO!! :D!

Goinv by the name of gli1tter anon kinda of a question from inside the jewellery box

What makes mel interesting > go on a ramp spree!

hello darling glitter anon!

I'm answering this a bit later, but wow have you opened a treasure trove for me. can i talk to you for a moment about my darling golden girl mel medarda?

yes, we know she is stunning, the most beautiful woman in the arcaneverse at this point (i am not wrong, and this take isn't controversial if i'm only speaking facts). but what else? she is brilliant. she is a dreamer. she saw the future in hextech and gave jayce and viktor the last push they needed. i love so dearly that she's a dreamer, like you wouldn't get it. you wouldn't understand.

AND she's creative while also being very analytical. she plays chess while everyone else plays checkers!! love watching her run mental laps around the Council (poc politicians & scientists my beloved). this, too, is sooooo big for me. alot of the time, the media makes it out that if you are good at the arts, that is all (no conceptual and theoretical thinking for you). because i am creative, but i am also a woman in stem who was told that she isn't analytical enough to go into the field i am now in. so its so encouraging to see mel's prowess not only with her arts, but also with her ability to be objective about situation and not emotional about like the media portrays women all too often.... like that's bae. but even then, she is not stoic. she is not a body without feelings. she has fears, she has emotions, but i respect how she doesn't allow what she feels to impact her judgement.

and then her compassion. yes my girl has mommy issues. but!!! she is kind and compassionate and loving, and yes she thinks about revenue and making piltover famous, but she legitimately wants the best because she sees the potential for better in people that they cannot see in themselves. i think its because her mother did not see potential in her that she strives so heard to see it in others. and i love how ardently she defends the things she loves. she defends her city, its peace, defends her jayce with all she is. even before her mother. even because the woman who hurt her most deeply.

there is quiet strength in always choosing peace, even if it may not be in your best interest. and this makes her an optimist, an idealist, yes, and i love that about her too. she doesn't just want the world to be better. she's playing an active part in trying to make it better with the knowledge she has of it. piltover and zaun suffer a disconnect, yes, but i don't think that she contributed to it, not directly. she never left her castle on the hill, yes, but would you if you didn't think that there was an issue? the issue is that the enforcers who directly interacted with zaun played interference. above all, mel has a heart for people, a respect for the sacredness of life, and that is possibly the thing that makes her most interesting me. she saw so much bloodshed and death, and instead of being desensitized to it, she began to value life even more.