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desireangel · 4 days

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Dark Cherry [4] | Aemond Targaryen

Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Summary: after months of a marriage that hardly harbours the passion that you'd dreamed about, you stumble across the reason for your husband's indifference and decide enough is enough. Aemond will learn just exactly what he's been missing out on.

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: MDNI 18+!! canon divergence!!! I fucked the timeline and nigly bits bc this was an impulse fic ok soooo it was mostly unplanned, almost smut, angst, let the grovelling happen babyyy, unedited, mention of alys x aemond but not in a good way :((, infidelity, talk of sex, guilt, mentions of Aegon x reader, hmmm I ramble, little vulnerable Aemond, bad language, let me know if I've missed anything!

Author's note: y'all I was never done with that man like there's no easy out for him :llll. Anyways I wrote most of this instead of studying which I needed to do. Perhaps I'll have my hand at another idea I'm cooking before part 5 but I'm alsoooo unsure about how keen we are to keep this one going - like is it getting too much??? either way, I enjoy writing this. and idk how to shut up, clearly, because I love that internal mind talk shit. Drop your thoughts in my inbox or PM me because I love to yap!!! xoxo, kisses!!! <3

Masterlist

He was a fool. A spoiled, arrogant and entitled fool. You often thought about whether Aemond actually recognised the effect of his actions on anyone else. It was always ‘I did it for us’ or ‘I did it because I had to do it’.

So after your confrontation the day before, it had surprised you that Aemond had truly believed he was forgiven. Maybe it shouldn’t have. You had, after all, sat beside him and laughed with him. Shared a moment as if things were better. But it was nothing more than a lighthearted acknowledgement that whatever game was being played was entirely ridiculous yet you could feel how something had changed. There was a newfound intensity between the two of you and Aemond had clearly understood that he had made a mistake

But that wouldn't be enough for forgiveness. Things would never really be the same. You will never forget. The nameless woman had made a home in your unconscious mind and everything would remind you of the woman your husband had chosen to take to bed over you. She was beautiful, she was experienced and free of burden. Based on that alone a part of you could see why she could have been a better choice–a part of you that ached and pained ceaselessly.

And you weren’t sure you could carry on as if Aemond hadn’t thrown your entire world into the pits of ruin. Because that is exactly what he may as well have done. All you had was your marriage to him–a fact that was as painful as it was true. If it all fell apart because of him only you would suffer from it.

Your name, your family’s name. A Lady born to a house of remarkably lowly nobility with little more than your marriage to the prince. A charity case marriage to tell the realm’s people that the Crown was not so prejudiced as to be above uniting with the likes of your house. That the Lannisters and Baratheons were important but they were not everything. A fabrication only made necessary to cover up the fact that it was a lie–the Targaryens (and even the Hightowers as you had come to realise) really did believe they were of better blood.

A failure to fulfil your duty to the Targaryen crown as Prince Aemond’s wife would destroy your family name. And you would have no prospect of happiness after it. What else did you have aside from this?

Aemond would never understand that. Because not only was he a man but he was a prince. A privilege, a safety and a security he had inherited through birth.

Aside from the pressures of society, he had hurt you. Badly.

Despite your own confliction about it, you did have love for Aemond–how could you not? Love came from many things and while yours may have come from your dependance on his word, on the duty he performed to be your protector as he was to the Crown and its subjects, on his polite affections as limited as they were, it still found its way into your heart. Perhaps it was foolish to allow it entry into your existence when you had already known that there was no love to come from Aemond.

It didn’t change anything. Betrayed your trust, taken you for granted and destroyed the sanctity of a husband’s loyalty as if he were as dishonourable as any other Lord.

You would never say it out loud but it had broken your heart. And heartache is a consuming, suffocating and painful thing to feel. A constant lump in your throat, something always weighing your chest down, a disastrous, aching discomfort in your belly. Tears had stained your pillow at night and dried by the morning, the fabric of the linen acquiring the same unphased facade that you would wear as you plastered on a mask of ignorance so that you could continue to live through your day.

All because you had wanted him. Aemond, who was doomed to disappoint and destroy merely because that is all that princes do.

For him to have mistaken your truce–the end to the back and forth game that had been wreaking havoc in its wake-as forgiveness was infuriating. He had no idea.

Well, maybe he did. Now that he had seen you with another just as you had seen him. And you recognised your own experience in the moment he had realised what was happening.

Aemond’s call to breakfast made you want to laugh. But you had turned him down for afternoon tea just the day before only to be found swallowing his brother’s seed. You winced at the shamefulness of your thought, muttering a quick prayer for the sake of your piety whether it was genuine or not.

He was seated lazily in the chair he favoured, an array of food spread across the table. There was a book in his hand. The same one he had taken from you the last time you had shared your morning meal together. Aemond had a smirk playing on his lips.

You cleared your throat, curtsying before sitting down at the other end of the table to him and with as much distance between you as you could muster. “Good morrow, my Prince,”

“Formalities, I see,” He looked at you through his lashes. It was odd seeing him so relaxed, the tension that was always in his shoulders had been lost and there was a playful glint to his eye. You wanted to smack it out. “I believed we were past titles and distance for the sake of propriety, my sweet. As well as rigid greetings.”

All you responded with was a stare.

Dropping the book to his side, Aemond sighed and leaned forward, pouring tea into a cup. He stood, taking a couple steps forward to hand it to you. “We have fixed-”

“We have fixed nothing.”

“I am trying to turn a new leaf,” he commanded. You took the cup and saucer from his hand, the warm waft of vanilla and rose giving you a slight reprieve from the threat that rolled off his tongue. “If you do not recall, dear wife, I as well have every reason to resent you. The image of you sucking on my useless brother’s cock is not one I can easily bare. Yet I have chosen to let it be. I could have easily decided otherwise.”

“That would make you a hypocrite.” You glanced at him over the rim of your teacup.

“It does not matter much if I am a hypocrite, does it?” Aemond sat, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. He wasn’t bothered with the food in front of him, focused solely on you. “I hardly see how that would change anything.”

You squirmed under the intensity of his stare, picking up a cherry from the bowl of fruits and rolling the stem between your fingers. “It matters to me. Certainly, it matters for your reputation among the smallfolk. Nobody cares for a selfish prince, my dear.”

Aemond hummed, smirking at the venom you spat at him. You noticed the coin that he rolled between his fingers, nimble and thoughtless as if it were like breathing. Not so much a nervous habit but a thoughtful one.

He couldn’t lie and say that he didn’t enjoy your confidence. It was refreshing. But there was a dip in his gut at the thought that there was no hope for the two of you. Aemond, ever logical, knew he had no one else to blame but himself with his lack of foresight and failure to see beyond the now and here.

Because Aemond had not even considered how things would go on should you not forgive him. He had assumed that you would if not merely on the basis that there was little lost from a relationship that hardly existed in the first place. You had love for him and he was so convinced that such a thing would be impossible that he didn’t consider that it would cause you heartache beyond slighted offence and jealousy.

A violet eye lingered on the cherry that remained between your fingers. Aemond was good at putting on an act. He thought for a moment that he would rather take lashes to his back than have you know that he had no idea how to love someone properly. A part of him was persuaded that he was incapable of being a good lover. The lashes seemed like a blissful gift compared to the self-loathing that simmered in his belly at the probability that he had ruined any chance your marriage had of recovery.

It crossed his mind that it was his ignorance towards you right from the beginning that had damned your relationship.

Either way, it did not help that you had turned to his brother for intimacy. Aemond felt his blood scorch whenever that invaded his mind. He wanted to crumble the walls of this fortress when he wondered if Aegon had enjoyed your womanhood. Jealousy did motivate him well, he realised, and Aemond had the murderous urge to feed Aegon to Vhagar.

Nonetheless, he feigned amusement. “It seems as if you care for one.”

You ate the cherry. It was sweet and rich. All you replied with was an upturn of your chin as you gracefully held a small embroidered towel to your lips.

“So I am not forgiven?” Aemond had to break the silence before it cut him open. “Are we not even?”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you held back a surprised laugh. “You never apologised. Not that it would make any difference.”

“That does not answer my question.”

“Of course you are not forgiven,” you sighed. The tea cup hit the table with a clang. Your disdain for his actions and his ignorance gave you an unfettered confidence around him which you weren’t accustomed to. It made it very difficult to control yourself. “And no, we are not even, my Prince. And since you have brought it to my attention, I am of half a mind to find Aegon and offer him a meal between my thighs. You see, I have often wondered how it would feel and I expect that our King would be happy to indulge my… curiosities.”

Aemond sneered, a silent one that was more visible in his intake of a breath, the curl of his lips and the hardening of his eye. Bullseye.

It took him less than a couple seconds to be on his knees in front of where you sat, a strong hand tightly gripping each side of your thighs over the thick fabrics of your dress. He had shoved the table aside, unphased as tea spilled and fruits and cheeses toppled to the floor. Something in the look of bewilderment on your face had Aemond ready to both grin at your clueless innocence and frown at your shock.

Aemond didn’t let himself dwell on the fact that you had given up on expecting such pleasures from him. He was your husband; nothing about what he was clearly intending on doing to you should surprise you. Cursing himself to perdition would not be enough for how he has failed you.

“I feel obliged to remind you that we had agreed,” he grazed his nose across your knees, looking up at you through his eyelashes, jaw clenched tight as he all but growled his words. “That there will be no more of this foolishness. Not from you and not from me.”

It was an onslaught of different things that had rendered you still and silent. The way Aemond looked at you like you were the only satiating force for his eternal hunger, the wordless mixture of desire and anger in how his fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs, the desperation in his voice, strained by the fear that you would. Or was it the overwhelming feeling that Aemond was finally taking some accountability and that maybe he recognised not what his actions were but the meaning that they carried?

For a moment Aemond just looked at you, conflicted and fragmented and unguarded. The sight of him like this reminded you of a vulnerable child. But it didn’t last long before the menacing, cautionary glint was back in his eye, his posture becoming rigid as shuffled the fabrics of your skirts.

A new kind of anxiety overcame you. Not like the insignificant nervousness you had felt that night when you had wandered into his chambers or used his leg to make yourself peak and not like the clueless apprehension with Aegon. It formed a ball in your chest and made it hard to breathe.

There was no chance he would ever admit it but you could see Aemond��s vulnerability and desperation within the hardened facade he had perfected. He wanted nothing more than to seem strong and powerful at all times, worthy of acclaim and reverence. But here he was, willing to stay on his knees and worship you forever, all under the pretence of rageful infatuation.

It was too hot. Even with the cool of the shadows cast by the dark net curtains that only let in enough daylight to see clearly and not enough to cause Aemond irritation from sensitivity in his eye, it was so warm you worried you would have to rip the sleeves off of your dress.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Aemond let out a soft, dark groan, running his fingers across the expanse of your legs over your stockings, your skirts already bunched at your hips. Skin burning at his touch, you couldn’t help the way you whined and squeezed your thighs together, squirming under the intensity of his gaze.

His voice was heavy with the burden of lust and regret. “I will be better. In all the ways that I have failed you and more. Your forgiveness, I realise, is not as easily granted as I presumed but I will show you that I am worthy of it.”

There was a moment of weakness in your mind before you caught yourself. You didn’t quite believe him. It had clearly been too easy for him to give you empty promises and there was no reason why things would be different now.

It was odd. Seeing Aemond weak like this.

What would it mean if you let him continue? It was clearly different this time. You couldn’t put it into words exactly but there was a rawness, a blitz of different emotions that set things ablaze and made you want to both weep and mewl for him.

You couldn’t spare a thought about why it was different. Aemond was right there, a weaponised Prince on his knees for you, a lowly Lady with nothing more to offer him than yourself. Since when did you hold all this power over him?

That night in his bedchambers and last night when you had shared a laugh despite everything that had unfolded felt detached in a way. When you had allowed yourself release over his leg it was simply that. A way to ease the tension he had put in your body and a way to leave him wanting.

Aemond’s eye swam with a tenderness you had not seen from him. He continued to look up at you waiting to gauge your response. It was a slight nod of your head which had his hands tearing at the soft fabric of your stockings, his lips instantly meeting the skin of your knees before you had the chance to even gasp. All the while, he kept his eye on you as if his heart would cease to beat if he could not watch the way you reacted to him.

It became increasingly harder to breathe. There were so many thoughts, so many sensations that you struggled to put it all together. Your flushed with anticipation, your cunt throbbed at the wet plushness of his lips on your hot skin and your hips squirmed at what was to come.

Your mind, however, flashed with the image of Aemond, exactly as he was now, between another woman’s thighs. A woman who didn’t flinch at the unfamiliar touch, who didn’t jerk away at the foreign feeling of being pleasured. You wondered if he would be so angered at the prospect of another man’s mouth on her womanhood, if her skin felt softer or more rough on his lips and if he looked at her with the same heated need.

It made you feel sick.

Aemond let himself enjoy the way your thighs tensed, pulling your smallclothes off of you as much as carefully as he could under the restriction of your skirts. There was an urge to rip the entire dress off but he knew it would be a step too far. He couldn’t help the low sounds that left him, sounds he couldn’t recognise. The expanse of your thighs and the sight of your flushed, hot cunt in front of him made his mouth water with a hunger that would have shocked him had he not been so distracted by your scent.

Without complete vision, Aemond had learned to train his sense of touch, taste, smell and hearing to make up for the disadvantage he was stuck with. They were always slightly heightened compared to those who never needed the compensation of senses but in the cloud of desire and lust, he was sensitive.

You whined at the way his tongue glided over your skin, biting down hard but not hard enough to be painful on the flesh of your upper thigh so close to where you needed to feel him. But Aemond was always remarkably patient and he merely made way to your other leg, repeating his ministrations and licking you from your knee to where he bit you at your thigh.

The haze that had possessed you made you lose track of your thoughts so easily. Still, they fought their way to the forefront of your mind at every chance they could and you were reminded of her.

Aemond’s mind was overwhelmed by you. There was no power in the realm that could make him think of anything else, not with the way you were trembling under his feathered touch and making such beautiful sounds for him, and not when he desired for anyone else apart from you.

A heavy breath of shame and excitement tumbled out of you at how lewdly he dragged the tip of his nose across your thigh, pressing it into the flesh that sat above your slick, aching cunt and inhaling. You clenched around nothing, your clit twitching at the sound of Aemond’s unabashed groan.

He grasped at your hips and your legs, his fingers burying into your flesh and tugging as if there would never be enough of you in his hands. It would have driven you into a similarly desperate state had things been different.

The prince between your thighs was a sight to behold. Aemond’s skin was flushed pink, his eyepatch slightly out of place and his hair tousled from the way your legs clenched and unclenched against his head. He was almost drooling, mumbling about how good you smelled and how perfect and pretty your cunt was for him. His cock had never been so hard, constricted by the stiff leather of his training attires.

Aemond enjoyed being a tease but there was only so much he could handle himself. While he wanted you to crave for him the way he was craving you so unbearably, Aemond needed to taste you. He needed to make you feel the blinding pleasure he should have been giving you at every chance he had since the night you were married. He needed to show you the ways of unbridled human desire and to show you all the ways your body could come undone and fall apart only to feel completely whole and fulfilled.

There was no changing the past but Aemond would make up for how completely inattentive he had been. He would show you all the more fervently. When Aemond placed an open mouthed kiss just above your slit, letting a string of his spit glide off of his tongue onto your sensitive pussy, you shuddered.

All at once your mind was once again taken over by unsavoury thoughts. It had your eyes welling with tears, a familiar lump lodging in your throat, threatening to come out in a devastated sob. There was a ringing in your ears and you were back at Aemond’s door, peeking in only to see him giving that woman the same touch he was giving you right now. He had seemed so enthralled by her and the way she must have tasted. It was as if he’d been there before, indulging in her with so much passion it rivalled how eagerly touched you in this moment.

Did her smell fill his veins with fire as yours was? Did her scent alone make his cock as painfully hard as yours did? Did her cunt drip for him the way yours did? Was the hunger in his eye shining for her too?

It was terrifying to consider.

Aemond would spend hours here, he had decided. His duties for the day could be damned to the hells for all he cared. There was a rumbling in his chest for what he saw in front of him, inviting him to indulge and filling his mind with senseless ardour. Aemond let himself enjoy just the scent of you, his eye fluttering shut and his nose gently resting above your folds as he breathed you in, caressing your thighs softly with his hands. As if he were starved for years, Aemond salivated and with no patience left within him, he brought his lips downwards to meet the precious cunt he had been dreaming of.

With a whimper that you couldn’t hold back, you jerked away from him. Aemond pulled away in surprise, his gaze full of confusion and lust and insecurity. “Wait, my love—“

You had slipped free of his grasp, a strangled cry escaping no matter how hard you tried to keep it in. There was one tear that slipped free, followed by countless more and you couldn’t look at him anymore, couldn’t bear to see that he was hurt before scrambling away from him.

She was stuck in your mind. The memory of Aemond’s little trysts with her replaying behind your eyes no matter how hard you tried to shut it out. It was clear that there was nothing you could do to get ahold of yourself because everytime you looked at him, so enthralled in you and your sex, she was there.

Laughing at you in the back of your mind, as if she had taken residence in a permanent place in your head, enjoying the state of despair and madness she and Aemond had led you to.

But she couldn’t be in your head. Not really. Not in the way it felt she was.

You barely glanced back at Aemond through your tears, struggling to even your breathing and calm the rapid beating of your heart. He hadn’t moved much; just simply stayed there frowning at the space that you had once occupied on the chair.

There was nothing he could do to change things. Aemond knew that as well as you did. But there was a pain in your heart at the way he looked so defeated, so guilty that it almost seemed like he would melt into a puddle of remorse. A far stretch from the usual stoic warrior that you had known him as.

“My prince, I–” you swallowed, your voice catching when he looked up at you with a wide eye and furrowed eyebrows. For a moment you remembered that he had no right - but he was trying, was he not? “I cannot continue with this knowing that you had touched her like this. It angers me and it upsets me and it pains me to think of it but ‘tis beyond my control.”

He stayed silent, observing the way you hid yourself from him and struggled to meet his gaze. There was a sullen look to you, one you had not entered with and it stuck needles in his flesh to think that he had been the cause of it. Aemond’s entire body felt hot and he was itching to tear off his leathers. He wished the gods would strike him down as he was for hurting you so.

You had turned away, disappearing from his quarters swiftly. You would never forget the image of how you had left him there–it was both satisfying and devastating.

Aemond, still on his knees for the ghost of you, his expression tortured and his shoulders tensed. It was a pathetic sight, should anyone stumble upon it, but you considered it beautiful. Beautiful in a lethal, catastrophic manner. Not unlike himself; a weaponised source of destruction who had a tendency to bring torment upon those he loved.

The rest of your day had been spent alone in your chambers. You hadn’t cried so much over any of it until now. The tears and sobs that you had held inside of yourself for weeks had forced themselves out, along with the emotions you had pushed down until you could no longer.

Aemond had a certain control while you were sitting in that seat, skirts bunched to your stomach and quivering for him to have his way. Regardless, the power was still yours and you knew that it was Aemond who was wrapped tightly around your finger at that moment. He would have listened to anything you had said–done anything you had told him to do.

Perhaps you had become too stubborn in your anger to have let yourself feel anything else. A retributive anger; one that sprouted from the lack of love that existed in your marriage and reached a climax at Aemond’s brazen adultery. And it only grew stronger in whatever back and forth Aemond had encouraged by dangling his whore in front of your face.

Whatever it was, you were feeling so much more now than you had before.

Or perhaps it was because you could see that Aemond was remorseful. He would never yet admit it but you knew from the way he had behaved since you had visited him in his bed. It was no act of redemption and definitely no apology but it was impossible to ignore the change in him. You had never seen Aemond the way you had seen him this morning.

Vulnerable, gentle, tormented.

A knock on your door had you sniffling and wiping away any tear stains that may have lingered on your cheeks. You had stopped crying for some time but the need to wallow and lament had stayed. When you called out to ask, the guard at your door notified you of the Dowager Queen’s presence.

Oh, seven hells.

There was really no chance you could refuse her so you merely let her in and called a servant to bring some refreshments. Queen Alicent sat herself down but remained tense, carefully watching you as you took a place beside her.

“Have you been crying?” Her concern was comforting. “I believe I know why.”

You straightened, not meeting the eye of the woman who reached a tender hand to your knee. Hiding behind a forced smile, you let out a breathy laugh. “I am certain the entirety of the Red Keep knows, Your Grace.”

“It has been known for some time,” Alicent was gentle, her cautionary gaze telling you that she was apprehensive about bringing her son’s misadventures up. You held your breath. “Since the first time he had summoned that Alys woman-”

“Alys? Is that her name?”

“You do not know?” There was a tense silence. Alicent couldn’t meet your gaze, pity swimming across her features. Aemond was her son and there were many things that she had let her sons get away with but her heart pained at the broken quiver in your voice.

Alicent had noticed the change in Aemond since the night that you had found him with Alys. The second time. He had never paid much attention to you aside from what appearances required yet Alicent knew her son far more than he would be willing to accept. She had known that there was something in his heart for you, no matter how small and no matter how it dwindled until set alight.

Aemond had done the wrong thing. She had no doubts about that. Alicent would have words with him once she figured out what to say to him. But he was her son and there were certain misdoings that she knew she had to defend them through. To protect his marriage, his image and his happiness. The Queen Dowager cleared her throat and reached for your hand, eyebrows furrowing at the way you stared down at your lap, the anguish you felt in your heart written clearly across your face.

“I understand that you are hurting, my dear. Although my husband remained faithful to me until his death and I cannot quite imagine the pain in your heart–I see how you have love for my son, even if you nor him have known it, I do understand,” Alicent took a breath, closing her eyes. “This is the way of men. And princes–”

“Please, Your Grace, I mean this with utmost respect for you but I do not wish to hear your excuses,” you whispered. There was a prickly, breathless worry that had settled in your gut. What did you not know? Was this Alys someone who mattered? “But I would like to know what you are withholding from me about this woman. I believe I deserve that at the very least.”

Alicent stared at you for a moment, examining you. She could drive her son further into the ground with what she was about to say. “Aemond had a paramour–at least it was rumoured, he never spoke of such things with me. Alys Rivers, a wetnurse and servant woman from Harrenhal.”

“A paramour?”

“It was before you were married,” Alicent was quick to clarify. “I had assumed that Aemond wanted nothing more to do with her when she left–at his order, I believe. Some say she was a witch. Perhaps she enchanted him.”

You couldn’t look at her. She was more than just a whore? Had he lied to you right from the beginning? Bile rose up in your throat. There was a thrum in your ears, the sound of your own heartbeat and you feared that you would be sick from the drop in your gut.

“Did he love her? Could he still?”

Alicent sucked in a breath. “I do not know, my child.”

All you could do was nod pathetically. Alicent was a woman of great strength and dedication; you had once wished to be much like her one day. But as you sat beside her now, you wished she had been a liar and a cheat and a meddling gossip. That you could find a way to fault her words but you could tell it caused her great difficulty to speak of Aemond’s actions honestly.

Ever poised and elegant, Alicent only leaned forward to you, her posture straight as a needle and her touch soft as linen. “I did not mean to upset you further. I only meant to speak with you about returning to Courtly activities, with the other Ladies and Helaena has been asking for you. And the Ladies speak–”

“They speak terribly of me,” you scoffed, allowing a humourless laugh. “I understand, Your Grace. I will return to spending my days in company other than my own.”

Alicent hated to pry but she felt that she must, now that she had dealt her cards against Aemond’s fate. “Perhaps you should speak with Aemond. He cares for you deeply. It would be a shame for your union to fall apart over such misunderstandings.”

If not for formality, you would have rolled your eyes. Again, you simply nodded, your mind reeling back to the woman that Alicent had given a name to. You would ask Aemond about her. It would be the less damning option rather than turning to Aegon once more but the idea of speaking to Aemond about a woman he may once have loved still made you want to crawl underneath the sheets of your bed and disappear.

You thought of the woman who you had seen through the crack in the door and wished you had taken extra care in looking at her. There was little you could recall other than the darkness and length of her hair, the paleness of her skin and the perfection in her curves as she pleasured Aemond and as he did the same for her.

As if she was familiar with all the things that made him weak. All the things that made Aemond weak. How she had touched him like she was an expert in his body. And you thought of Aemond, bare and comfortable with her. Aemond with his sapphire glimmering under the lamplight instead of an eye, a rawness and trust that you had never seen of him until that night.

He trusted her.

Alys Rivers.

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Tagging: @padfooteyes @thedyingwriter @mamawiggers1980 @queenofshinigamis @ewanmitchellfanatic @nurtargaryen

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lovemomhatepolice · 5 months

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jude bellingham nswf alphabet (part 1) (minors DNI!)

navigation taglist requests

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Oh, Jude is very adhesive after sex. He likes to cuddle with you until you both fall asleep. He places gentle kisses on your head, shoulders and arms, in fact wherever he can. He always talks to you for a long time, whether everything was okay, how you feel, if you need anything…. Well, Jude is a great guy

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) Jude is well aware that he is damn handsome. And not since he started being famous, oh no, Jude was already aware of that before. However, what he likes most about himself is his face, I think. He really likes the fact that he is similar with his family, which is so important to him, and he likes his looks. He is very fond of his dark brown eyes and his lips, which, according to him, have the perfect shape (to kiss you!!). As far as you are concerned, I think Jude is definitely an ass man. Of course, he loves your breasts, but your ass is definitely something Jude always looks past when he sees you. He loves to squeeze it, kiss it, everything, really. He always has his hands on her when you're somewhere together, and he's not ashamed to show it. Unfortunately, on the contrary, sometimes you have to correct him so he doesn't get caught up. And besides, he loves your whole face. He thinks everything matches perfectly - your nose size, eye color and lip shape, ay, this boy is drowning.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Jude Bellingham looks like a total creampie fan. I think he repeatedly stopped his seed at your entrance to watch it mix with your juices and slowly leave your body. But I also think he's too delicate to let his cum linger on your face, which is why he's not a fan of it. Even if you asked, there's no chance he'll let himself cum in your face

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) I think he likes it when you take the initiative. He often does a lot on his own, but the sight of you having fun with him in a way that no one else has ever done before, god. Jude is already on his knees and begging for more

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) Nah, Jude is not very experienced. Well, after all, he's only 21 years old and hasn't scored any major ones on his relationship record. Therefore, everything you experience together is quite new to him. It was with you that he lost his virginity and began to discover what he likes and what he doesn't quite like But nevertheless he is a fast learner, he has become so skilled that if you met him for the first time, you would not be able to say that he is a fresher in these matters

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Jude likes to have you on top. Really, that's why the cowgirl position is just right for him. He likes you to take the initiative, however, alone from below he can also do a lot, especially since compared to him, you are in his hands like a feather. Another option is standing up - as I mentioned before, Jude is a fan of sex in the shower, so the standing option had to be practiced to perfection to make both of you comfortable and perfect

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) It depends on the moment. Jude is hardly a person who is against any jokes in bed or giggles, on the contrary, it even happens to him often. However, when your sex is heavily geared towards romance and the heat rising around your bodies, he rather tries to be serious and committed to the situation

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) I think Jude is not completely shaved, but it is trimmed so that it is neat and not too much. He has dark curly hair, so I'm betting he has that all over his body too, so it might be hard to eliminate it. As for you, I think similarly. Either completely shaved or trimmed so that everything is neat and not too much.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) Bellingham can be truly romantic. He may not look like it, but he loves to plan your entire evening. First take you out for an expensive dinner with wine, then prepare you a joint bath with petals of your favorite flowers, followed by the intense sex you've both been waiting for all day. And then long conversations in bed and gentle touches...

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) This often happens to him - mainly due to the fact that you often don't see each other through his constant trips to matches and life in other countries. He's not averse to pornographic movies, but since you've been together, he tends not to watch them. You prefer to connect together on the webcam and experience it from a distance, or he copes by simply thinking about the fact that you could be you next to him…

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Honestly, I can't find any sensible kink to match Jude. He does not seem to be a person who is drawn in any particular direction. Maybe a creampie? Hm, I think he could watch with fascination as your shared juices of fulfillment come out of you…. Oh, and combined it with breeding kink? Well, what? He's young, but he can definitely see you with a pregnant belly in your future home together in Madrid

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Shower. Jude Bellingham shouts shower. Or possibly a bathtub, but definitely something on the toilet. I honestly don't know why, but it's what I associate with so damn much. Sex after the game? In the toilet. Sex with romantic candles and rose petals? In the bathtub. Sex without any occasion? In the shower. Well, don't say no. Jude definitely looks like a man who loves to take a bath together with you, and the opportunity to get close is even better

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) After the match. I don't know why. It's just that after a match, Jude is always, and I mean always, somehow more horny, and that's when you turn him on the most. Whether it's won or lost, Jude just needs to have his girlfriend in his arms after it Or the other option that turns him on is you in mini dresses. Well begging, the boy is already on his knees in front of you (or rather, behind you too)

A/N: next part will be here soon! i will be very pleased if you leave something behind - orders are open!

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

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biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer · 3 months

Note

That's right, as soon as I saw you receiving questions again I came flying.

As always and should never be missed first, I hope you are well and I love your writing as much as you love Geo.

Ehem, could you please write (if you have time) how you think the cast would confess their love to the MC/reader?

💙Thank you for your attention and this probably has errors due to the translator.

Devoted (All x MC/Reader - Confession HCs)

I'm feeding you all well tonight. >:]

This is 3000 fucking words.

T.W.: Some of these (especially Sol) have more mentions of sexual activity than others.

- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer

Devoted: being devoted to something means being focused on that particular thing almost exclusively.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

When it comes to you, Sol’s got no other feelings other than pure veneration and an obsessive, all-consuming love (and lust).

He does plan to confess, but he wants to be certain you’re showing signs — definite signs — that you’re into him. Even if it’s just physical attraction, even if all you want from him is his body; he’ll take it, you can use him however you want, he won’t mind.

Sol’s going to be extremely cautious when it comes to ensuring you remain as his, he wants you to have eyes only on him, even you looking at someone else with adoration, especially a very certain Jericho-fucking-Ichabod, he’s going to lose his shit. Only maybe Hyugo will survive being annihilated, solely due to Sol tolerating him enough (and the fact they both have an iron-clad grip over each other when it comes to blackmail <3).

Sol, after befriending you, will probably have to forcefully clamp his mouth shut every time he says anything to you, this man is so perverted when it comes to you that he can never let his guard down.

When you start hanging out with him (and Hyugo), he’s going to try and get you to like him through his more teasing side, one with snark and sass galore. He also never hesitates to get into fist fights for you, so that’s an awesome bonus.

As he hoped, you became quite fond of the facade he’d upkept for you, anytime you blushed he’d have to tug his shirt down and clench his thighs together just to hide his raging boner.

May or may not vanish at least thrice each time just to jack off to you. Even Hyugo is a bit concerned with how frequently he vanishes to the restroom.

Anyway, Sol’s going to try and get you to become solely dependent on him, he can’t afford you having other people, other insignificant people interfering with his master bation plan to get you to be his.

He’ll definitely take advantage of the fact people are going missing to ‘take care of’ Crowe'; then he’ll stalk back into your bedroom and fuck himself into your sheets. Again. And Again. He’d then look over your sleeping form, resist the carnal urge to take you right then and there, and decide he’s gonna do it.

By the stage he confesses, he’s become your main source of comfort after ‘poor’ Crowe vanished, and he will 110% abuse that power.

Will confess ‘by accident’, and he’ll immediately try to gauge your reaction, making sure to casually play it off as best as possible, his face beet red like his cock, considering how often it’s hard because of you.

If, no, when you blush, you’ll look down (either from shyness or astonishment) and you will notice.

Someone. Is. Very. Painfully. Disturbingly. Hard.

You’re also fairly certain it's not you.

You’ll probably just blankly stare at the outline, with Sol trying to hide it.

Then you bite his cock off <333

You also better reciprocate, because he’s just gonna lunge at you.

Will basically asphyxiate you with how much he kisses you. <3

Like mans doesn’t care he’s too overjoyed with how his fantasy, his dream of being with you is finally, painstakingly, becoming reality.

Hyugo would probably not even know he had a thing for you until he was taking a shower one night. Then it hits him like an anvil and he’s a mix of embarrassment and panic.

Embarrassment because…oh no…he’s gonna have to evade you like the plague to not become a hot stuttering mess. And panic? Well; he has people from all social classes, all corners of the earth after his head (no not that head, smh y’all are vile).

Will then proceed to do the opposite of evading you, mans wants your attention too much.

He’s usually very good with controlling his facial expressions, but if he likes you, he's just going to be red-faced 24/7.

Ends up wearing a face mask just to hopefully cover the furious blush that usurps his face whenever you wave to him.

Like Sol, wants to be absolutely certain that you like him back before he confesses, mans is gonna be preparing the shit out of everything.

Will probably try to steal more of your attention and often ensures he’s gone more often; for absence makes the heart grow fonder, does it not?

Hyugo is definitely more touchy if he likes someone, maybe he’ll try to make one of those funky over-the-top handshakes with you.

Anyway, if, in the span of however much time you’ve both got left until graduation, Hyugo will probably become a pestilence in your mind. All logic and reason, all cognition and wit is slowly being eaten away by thoughts of cyan tresses and firmament eyes.

When he confesses, it’ll be purposeful, at least, he hopes it will be. He’ll invite you to either a park or beach, and his aim to to confess under the shroud of darkness.

He’ll probably be too afraid to face you and state his feelings, he’s paranoid he’ll look stupid.

When the words leave his pretty lips, you just sit. Half of you is convinced this is a trick of the mind, until you ask…“What?”

He’s terribly ashamed at this point, literally any response will freak him out.

You’ll have to yank his arm and either squeeze him and his dick or smash your lips onto his, gripping the nape of his neck like your life depends on it.

It may or may not end up in more.

His eyes might even become waterfalls from the relief and sheer peace he feels to be here. For once in his life he doesn’t feel uneasy or trepidant.

Which means you’ll have to make him cry from pleasure instead. <333

Brit will probably figure out she likes you after she realises she’s been stalking your socials for the past few months. She’ll then be appalled at how she even got this attached to anyone at all.

She’s going to be quite bold at the start, especially if she thinks what she has is a small crush, to which you’ll probably have her bluntly telling you you’re hot or something. (You’ll be spending the days deciphering whether that was sarcasm or not).

She’ll be dragging you shopping and for coffee dates as time goes by and if you’re up for it, you both go out to get mani-pedis and facials. This girl (and Geo) know the best cosmetic places in the city, they used to share locations with each other for better haircare and eyeliner products.

She also defends you from bullies. If you’re the shy type, she will be throwing metal trays and food at all the shitbiscuits who dare to speak a crude word against you.

Will eventually realise, after genuinely getting to know you, that she does in fact hold genuine emotional attachment to you. She then proceeds to panic. (mood)

This girl, while confident, is extremely worried about the opinions of people whom she cares for. She doesn’t want to be on eggshells when around you, so she may end up avoiding you.

Overtime, you too had become attached to Brit, and gained a lot of respect for all the shit she gets put through all the time; so her doing this affects you a lot.

She’ll snap if you get another girl best friend (that’s not Jess), and will become more annoyed in general if you ignore her.

This girl is terrified of rejection, but she’ll end up so riled up that she’ll blatantly admit she likes you and not elaborate.

You both eventually decide to deal with this like the wise adults you are, and talk it out. She’ll definitely be extremely embarrassed about sharing her feelings, and will hide her face in her manicured hands to conceal the blush on her face.

It’s okay you both end up holding hands and (almost) kissing.

I say almost because Brittney went to order more coffee (totally not from anything to do with you noo).

Y’all have monthly shopping sprees and spa sessions now; and hang out at one-another’s places to do each others’ hair and gossip.

Jess is going to be one of the less obvious when it comes to being into you.

Girlypop essentially will do whatever you want, she’s much more shy when it comes to actually speaking her mind, you’ll have to coax her into feeling comfortable enough with you to speak her mind.

Will blush if you compliment her.

She will definitely ramble about you to her online friends (she’s got a blog so she’s gonna have some friends lmfao).

Is going to be slightly more outspoken around you, as in, will actually have a conversation with you. Not to say she’s incapable, she just often needs to mentally sift through everyone she meets to determine whether they’re assholes or not.

She will definitely ask for external advice on how to court you, but ends up being too afraid to actually attempt it (mood).

Is 110% going to ask the others for any signs that you like her, especially Brittney.

Will be the type to just text online all the time, she feels more free behind a screen.

Will probably buy you a gift out of nowhere, will be smiling with pure adoration if you like it (you do).

Girl is too shy to ask you out, so she’ll probably just have to end up being asked directly if she likes you, or if you confess first. Either way the answer will be yes, albeit if you do the former she’ll be way more hesitant.

When you hug her (and with consent kiss her forehead), she’ll faint.

You’ll be worried if you killed her.

It’s okay she saw heaven right beforehand.

When y’all both get over the initial shock, she’s going to hug you again. Probably won’t let go for a while, until the post-confession clarity kicks in and she panics.

You’ll have to cup her face and tell her you’re not upset at all.

And you both end up just warmly embracing for the next hour or so.

Geo’s absolutely abominable when it comes to feelings; especially romantic ones.

He would be the type to suspect something was up, but he’d dismiss anything that even remotely resembles emotional attachment.

He knows how cold he may come off as, and he’s content with you avoiding him like the plague.

Alas, you don’t; in fact, you try to talk to him more frequently.

He’s the type to be silently judging everyone you talk to now, he’s nitpicking at them, mentally elevating himself as a better match, a better variant for you.

He doesn’t even realise he’s doing it, and neither do you. His face is as blank as Hyugo’s attendance roll.

He isn’t a fan of nicknames, but he’ll reluctantly like- *cough* allow you to call him ‘Geode’. The glee on your face made his heart seize up.

He’s definitely going to use his status to remove people from your life whom he deems as pests; whether that be bullies (if he doesn’t get them hospitalised first), toxic friends or other people who like you.

Geo’d be quite possessive, not to the extent where he thinks he owns you, but he’d definitely be eyemurdering anyone who can’t keep their hands off you. Worst part is he can’t stop them (unless you ask for help, then he 110% will), without looking a tad suspish.

Will be the type to hope you ask to hang out, and/or bribe a teacher of any class that you’re both in to make you guys a duo in whatever assignment is up next. Any excuse to be near you is a good one.

Will just ‘happen upon’ a snack you like and buys it for you.

Will be subconsciously trying to deny he likes you, but after a while, after being near you for as long as he has. Hell, the fact he chose to override his logic to be near you is enough reason for him to silently decide that, yes, he did like you.

Was he going to admit it? Absolutely not.

He cannot afford to get rejected, after all. He wants to be sure you like him back. He’ll even allow Brittney to find out if it means a higher chance of being with you.

But his method would be slow, subtle courting; buying you either food or cosmetics or whatever makes you happy.

The joy in your eyes makes him softly smile each time (when you’re not looking).

Brittney will probably hint at it on his behalf tbh, and after a while, you notice he isn’t cracking.

Which means you’re gonna have to do it.

Thankfully you possess a basic amount of common sense to ask him out in private, to which he does a double take, purely confused; which is fucking hilarious, because he never makes any genuine expressions other than annoyance or disdain (and the rare smile).

So you tell him you have a thing for him, and he’s just staring into your soul, before he briefly winces (he pinched himself y’all), and quietly stares.

When he softly affirms how he feels the same way, it’s as if all the hostility had been drained from his stoicism, left only with a calm, disciplined contentedness.

You’ve given Geo’s grey, monotonous life a stroke of colour, one that left his bland, monotonous existence behind, because now, he had a purpose. A genuine, heartfelt purpose.

And you’d never know just how grateful he was to have you.

Crowe will probably realise he likes you a while before he confesses.

I feel like he’d be similar to Sol in the secretly-obsessive category, but he’s much better at hiding it.

He’d focus on trying to make you as comfortable as possible with him, offering you study notes, tutoring sessions, free coffee…just trying to treat you as much as possible without making it too obvious what his goal is.

Basically just tries to be a backbone that you can fall back on when you need it. And let me tell you, he’s a fucking good one.

He is probably going to try and maintain normalcy between you two, slowly alternating between loving and politeness, he wants to determine whether he can even be with you.

Definitely will be giving romantic innuendos the longer his feelings for you fester, they don’t seem to be weakening at all for him. In fact, they’re getting stronger with time, like a good wine.

He’ll probably lightly flirt with you as well, and if you blush or, even better, flirt back? Man is gonna be thinking about that for the next month.

Crowe is going to be more protective over you with time, especially when you both hang out. He wants to ensure you’re safe and comfortable, no matter the circumstances.

You’re gonna feel very secure around him.

Will probably test the waters after a while and ask for your hand –in marriage– because it’s ‘cold’.

You (I’m assuming) oblige, and overtime it becomes a normal thing for you both (teehee).

Will confess to you while holding your hand as well. You stop feeling cold for a while from how warm you feel.

If the mood strikes, y’all may even partake in the act known as ‘kissing’.

You both will be struggling to not smile for a long time after that.

Deryl will be oblivious that he likes you for a while. Until he isn’t. Which will be a few months at least.

When he does though, he’ll treat you the same as when he did before, extremely friendly, massive foodie and great support system.

Although with you he feels a more soulful bond, he wants to be seen as a source of shelter and safety for you; more so than for the others.

He’ll be keeping his feelings in for a long time though, he doesn’t want to make things awkward with you.

Will want to share snacks with you, food is his love language. Y’all are gonna be going places and consuming everything.

You both are so going to arcades to gamble on who pays for snacks-

He’s a sporty guy, so he’d invite you to his sports shows (all of them, even the ones that are private af). If you went he’d actually cry tears of joy.

His way of expressing his love would mostly be through affirmation and physical touch. He’d be hugging you 24/7 if he could (and was given consent ofc).

Also uses his reputation and overall build to essentially threaten potential bullies to fuck off. He’s strong af and is very capable of coming out of a fight much less hurt than whoever chose to screw with him. He’ll be much more unmerciful if said people were hurting you.

Over time, he’d accept he has feelings for you and that they may not be reciprocated, but if he gets a feeling — either from you or from a snide comment of Brittney’s — that you like him? He’ll just man up and tell himself that he’s gonna confess.

So he does, as he’s walking you home one night (cause…we’re literally hot shit; people wanna steal us all the time), and when you both get to your residence, he gently takes your wrist and awkwardly asks if you can allow him a moment.

When he states his feelings, red-faced and all, he’s completely accepted they might not be reciprocated.

So when you grin and tell him you feel the same? And you’re not kidding?

My guy just stands there, monotone, for about a moment, before his face becomes as radiant as the sun.

He’s literally so happy he could die.

Will bounce in his skin.

Anyway y’all end up on your couch eating Sour Patch Kids while watching a shitty movie and commenting on how dumb it is.

Truly the experience of all time.

It gets even better when you both end up falling asleep on each other (after Deryl tires himself out…I’ll leave that to your imaginations <3).

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cripplecharacters · 2 months

Note

Hi there, i have a character in my original story who is blind, specifically because he lost both eyes (one from injury, one from infection at birth). However, he doesn't have access to prosthetic/glass eyes as he lives in a secluded group of warriors. I've been drawing him with a blindfold to protect from infection, but upon reading your posts about eye coverings on blind characters, i'm unsure if this is offensive or not, but i also can't think of a good alternative other than going bare. He is a warrior, so i don't think glasses would stay on for very long, but i'm wondering if maybe goggles would work? Hes not the only blind character i have (one of the others is a born-blind cane user who does not wear glasses) but i still don't want to misrepresent or spread misinformation. Any help would be appreciated, thanks

Hello!

@blindbeta has an excellent post on the subject, which I'll link here [Link].

In your character's case, the cover would serve more for protecting their eyes and less for photophobia or other sensitivities. One of the points that's mentioned heavily in the post is to ask why your character is using a cover for their eyes.

In this case, you've already answered that question. Your character needs to protect their eyes from infection and further damage but doesn't have the option of prosthetics and glasses are inconvenient and could fall off or get in the way.

That being said... wouldn't a blindfold also get in the way?

A blindfold would be more of a problem in combat than a pair of glasses with a strap securing them. A blindfold gives his opponent another way to grab onto him (Think of ponytails) or something else to get caught on.

Also, if the goal is preventing infection, a blindfold would do the opposite here. Fabric is notorious for encouraging the growth of bacteria, fungi, and other microorganisms. When it's pressed up against your character's eye sockets while they're fighting and sweating, it's also creating a very humid and moist environment.

Back when I was still rock-climbing and would go blindfolded, the blindfold would become gross and sweaty after just a few rounds. I don't even want to think about how it would have been after a day of fighting and adding in the blood and other fluids that would be on it. This can be especially problematic if your character is living in a secluded place where he may not be able to properly wash the blindfold as often as needed.

In general, the goggles (Or a pair of secured glasses) may be a better way to go. They'd be less of a liability in combat and be much more effective at preventing infection than a blindfold would be. There's also the fact that they would be much easier to clean if it ends up being necessary.

Now, you didn't specifically ask about this but I would just like to point out that prosthetic eyes aren't just used for preventing infection. Prosthetic eyes allow you to maintain the function of your eyelid and ensures that your eye socket keeps its shape. Depending on your character's circumstances, this may or may not be a concern for them.

Regardless, I'd definitely suggest looking into this and giving it some thought if you haven't.

Here's a few links to get you started:

A brief article discussing the benefits of prosthetic eyes.

An article that talks about prosthetic eyes in general. It also includes some brief information on prosthetic eyes in the past, which may be of interest to you.

Some FAQs about prosthetic eyes. Most of this is more specific to the current prosthetics offered but has some general info as well.

If you haven't done so already, I'd also advise checking out the linked post from @blindbeta since it has some excellent information about the specific trope.

Cheers,

~ Mod Icaus

#mod icarus #anonymous #blindness representation #eye prosthetics

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leviscolwill · 11 months

Text

good old fashioned lover boy

pairing: trent alexandrer arnold x reader

summary: trent loves that you and jude get along, but he wants to make sure he still holds the #1 spot in your heart [wc: 1k]

req: request for a fluffy trent fic: jude is always over at trent & reader’s house, eating their food, bringing his friends over, begging to join them on outings etc. and generally acting like their kid. so ofc reader & jude are close, he goes to her advice, they tease trent togeth etc. and trent is jealous that jude gets long w his girl so we’ll but not actually jealous, more in a pouty whiny way, cos he knows jude is like a little bro to her

contents: established relationship, food mention, jealous trent (but it's cute)

note: i tried suppressing my lowercase addiction for this, tell me if you prefer it this way 🫶

now playing: good old fashioned lover boy by queen...

The warmth of your home protected you from October's cold. Trent had planned to spend the day snuggled in bed watching spooky movies and baking Halloween cookies with you.

Well, that was the plan until Jude passed your door. Trent wouldn't be able to say one bad thing about Jude even if he tried, he'd been there for him during tough times. No matter how hard you tried to empathize with Trent, Jude was probably the one friend who could understand his struggles surrounding football the most. Very quickly the pair grew close, almost family-like, and Jude would come over yours, often. You didn't mind, how could you? Jude was nothing short of lovely, he was a funny guy to be around and probably your boyfriend's favourite friend.

But you didn't expect him to crash one of the rare free days you got to spend with Trent. And neither did Trent, from the way his eyes widened when he opened the door to a smiley Jude. Your favourite Disney soundtracks were still blasting in the kitchen while you were mixing your cookie batter.

“Oh, are you cooking these for me?” Jude's voice made you turn around to see him standing in your kitchen with a big smile, your boyfriend trailing behind him.

“Depends, do you have good news to give me?” Trent's face contorted in confusion but Jude totally understood what you meant by the giggle he let out.

“I'll tell you all about it if those cookies are worth it.”

He recently came up to you for advice on how he should ask the girl he liked out. The fact Jude trusted you enough to share this with you made you happy, talking to him was like talking to a younger brother.

Trent knew about the girl his friend fancied of course, but he was absolutely clueless about him asking you for advice. Hearing you two talk so casually, made him feel left out. He knew how stupid this sounded, you were his girlfriend and Jude one of his best mates, but he couldn't help but feel his stomach churn from your closeness.

Trent wasn't jealous. He trusted you and Jude with his life. But he couldn't help feeling his friend was stealing the precious time he could have spend with his girlfriend, and he felt awful about this.

You were your own person, and he was very much aware of that, but he couldn't help spiralling. What if Jude was better company than him? What if he made you laugh in ways he couldn't?

His thoughts came to a halt when you pressed a quick kiss near his lips, “These should be done in 30 minutes, are you alright T? You look a bit off.” The concerned look in your eyes made him forget everything, his hand found yours to press a kiss on it.

“I'm fine baby, don't worry about it.” No matter how much Trent tried to reassure you, you knew something was off with him and made a mental note to ask him about it when you would be alone.

After many Fifa games between Jude and your boyfriend and six chapters of your books read, the cookies were ready. The three of you sat down and you intently watched their reactions to your baking, knowing damn well neither of them would be able to hide their real thoughts.

“These are very good love.” Your boyfriend complimented with his mouth half full while Jude stuck out his thumb up.

“So... Are you gonna tell me what happened with Mia?” A frown appeared on Trent's face again at your words.

“What's even all that about?” He tried his best to hide any animosity in his voice but it didn't work from the way Jude and you looked at him with wide eyes.

“I asked your girl for advice to ask Mia on a date, nothing more mate.” You could tell Jude was being cautious with his words, fearing his friend would get the wrong idea.

Trent ran his hand on his face, “I know. This is stupid, sorry.”

You stayed silent and went to the kitchen telling the boys you had to clean it up to cover the fact you wanted to flee this weird atmosphere.

You stayed a while looking at your phone, and when you looked up you saw Jude and Trent in front of your front door talking together, your boyfriend's hand laying on Jude's shoulder before pulling him in a hug.

The younger boy noticed you staring, and winked at you with both his eyes before whispering something to Trent's ear, something that made him turn around to look at you with a smile. You quickly turned around pretending to be interested in something else to hide the fact you were caught red-handed pretty much spying on them.

When the door finally closed, Trent's hands found your waist and spun you around. You started speaking before he could try to himself. “I'm sorry for not telling you I was speaking with Jude, but I swea-”, Trent's lips on yours cut you off, you felt your shoulders relax from this action.

“No, I am sorry. This was stupid, I just really wanted to spend the day with you, only you, I mean. I actually love the fact that you get along with Jude, but I just don't want you to like his company better than mine y’know.” His words relieved you, your pointer finger booped his nose as he let a giggle escape his lips.

“Trent, don't be silly. I love hanging out with Jude but if I could, I would spend every single minute of my life with you. Now... should we start watching The Prisoner of Azkaban?”

Trent led you to your shared bedroom, fingers intertwined to snuggle under the sheets. The both of you perfectly content and satisfied with each other's company.

taglist: @ceofmercedes <3 @zowanew <3

#i hope u like it <3 #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold imagine #trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold blurb #trent alexander arnold one shot #trent alexander x you #trent alexander arnold fanfic #football one shot #football fanfic #football fluff #football imagine #football x reader #footballer imagine #trent alexander arnold fluff

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bigassmoonchild · 1 year

Text

Thirteen

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: As much as Simon wanted to talk to you, he still had a job to do. You were hurting beyond belief, and he wanted to right his wrongs. He doesn't know what's happening back at base, though, with Soap and eventually yourself.

Content Tags: Angst, Hurt/Some Comfort, Injured Price, Nearly Dead Soap, Medical Inaccuracies, Mentions of Pregnancy, Possible Death, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost, No use of Y/N

A/N: Shorter chapter, I'm sorry, but it's almost a filler chapter I guess? Anyways. Holy shit. 10 parts already?? I never would've expected this, but here we are! I know I keep saying it, but there may not be many more chapters after this (depending on how it evolves). Thank you all for the support and here is chapter 10! (content beneath the cut and my asks are open <3)

P.S: All asks are going to be completed tomorrow, it's getting late and I still need to eat <3 but still much love!!

Part 1 | Previous, Next | Headcannons, Masterlist

Simon never made it to you. He wasn't able to talk to you, because it seemed like you had disappeared. He asked around, people didn't know entirely where you were but they had seen you disappear into an operating room and watched Soap follow soon after. From then, you hadn't been seen.

It had been thirteen hours. Thirteen hours of being unsure of how his packmate was, unsure of what his mate was thinking. He had no clue what was happening. Price had been there, still being stitched up and hobbling around on crutches (you'd pushed for him using a wheelchair, but his pride got in the way).

"There's not much you can do, mate," Price said, grasping at Simons shoulder to not only try and comfort him, but regain his balance. "You're needed in the conference room as well," Price whispered, ducking his head down.

Whipping his head around, Simon looks at him, brows furrowed. "Price, I need to be here, for Soap, for..." his eyes drifted away, thinking about you. "I need to be here," he whispered, shaking his head slowly.

Price gave a little grimace. "I understand, but-

"No!" Simons voice raised, moving to shove Prices hand off of him before realizing the crutches were sliding from under him. "No, you don't understand," Price looked away, jaw clenching. Shaking his head, Simon looked away. "I'll go, but I need to be able to talk to her," he whispered.

"I'll figure out a way, during the mission," Price told him. With a moment to allow Price to regain his balance, Simon took off. He'd need to talk to you, as soon as he could, but first? His job.

It took thirteen and a half hours to get Soap stabilized. Thirteen and a half hours before you could get back out of the OR, before you could get back to your nest. The second you stepped out of the OR, walking to make sure Soaps nurse would know exactly what to do, you ran into Price.

"You should be resting," you told him, glancing at the way he wobbled on the crutches. "Or in a wheelchair,"

"You know my opinion on a wheelchair," he said. Looking around, making sure the two of you were the only people around, he looked straight into your eyes. "He's on a mission," he whispered. "Was just sent off a few minutes ago, he got briefed half an hour ago," you looked away.

There was no thinking, you couldn't even process the fact that he was gone. Without talking to you. Gone.

"So I was thirteen hours too late?" You whispered, feeling your throat burning with the telltale sign of a good cry coming up. "How dangerous is it?"

Price shrugged, shaking his head. You gave a huff, moving to walk ahead but slow enough Price could keep up. There was nothing you wanted more than to just run away, stay in your actual home, in the nice and large nest you'd built there.

With a deep sigh, you began speaking with the nurse you found. Telling her how often to change the bandages, who to call in case something happened overnight, what to do if something went wrong. She listened closely, still just barely getting through the beginnings of her career.

Walking away, you glanced over at Price. "Did he say anything? About what... happened?" Price shrugged again and you groaned, dropping your head back. "Is that all you can do, now? Shrug?" He barked a laugh, dropping his head before groaning. You moved towards him, going to grab at where you knew the sutures were before he put his hand up.

"Just sore, really. Moved the wrong way," he told you and you nodded. As you kept walking, just a bit slower now. The two of you walked, nearly aimlessly, throughout the compound. You said nothing, he said nothing and you just existed. For a few moments, you were finally able to just exist in the peace that the compound gave you.

There wasn't much peace, though. Your thoughts were winding in circles, mostly around you and Simon. Your mate.

You could feel the hurt there, you could feel the absolute pain that took you over when you thought about how he acted or treated you sometimes. But there were those other times that helped numb the pain.

How he held you, so delicately. How he loved you, so carefully. His careful moves of making sure that you were comfortable, how sweet he was when courting you. Eating lunch and dinner together, giggling about all of the people around you. Gossiping.

Price allowed you to leave, explaining he needed time to call his own Omega and make sure the pups were behaving and you'd giggled with that. You missed the time between becoming okay with pups and right before everything happened after his rut.

In your nest, you sat there, grieving what you had and what you could have had. With him, you hadn't felt so loved in those few moments. You hadn't realized how loved you'd been. But you knew how hurt you became, and you weren't entirely sure how much longer you could stand it. How much longer you could sit there and allow him to hurt you.

The next week and a half flew by. You'd been busy ensuring that Soap was okay, making sure that Price was kept updated on everything, making sure he took the necessary amount of rest he needed. Filling out paperwork, training your squad and having little to no time of your own.

At this point, you were sick. Your stomach was in knots all the time, you had thrown up a few times throughout the week but you didn't think much of it. You were working yourself to what felt like the bone, so it made sense to you why you were sick. You barely had the time to slow down, barely ate and barely slept.

You were sick. That's what you kept on telling yourself, because any other explanation would hurt you even worse. And the nesting, you figured, was because you were already so stressed out from Simon being gone. You were eating more because you were hungry.

So damned hungry.

Amanda was the one who pushed you to take the day off, to figure out what you were coming down with. Your head wasn't stuffy, so you weren't affected by a cold or anything of that sort. You were feeling nauseous and sick, you spent some time bent over the toilet trying to hold your breakfast or dinner down.

Sick.

That's what you were, even if the two pink little lines were telling you something different. You didn't have to pay attention to that, because these little things were oftentimes wrong. You were sick, because you were throwing up and nauseous and dizzy sometimes. You were nesting because you were sick and missing your Alpha, you were eating more because you hadn't been eating well.

There was nothing about the blood test that gave a reason for those two little lines to appear, even if you could see it clear as day. You weren't pregnant, because Alpha wasn't here and may never come home. You weren't pregnant, because Alpha wasn't sure if he wanted it, and the best you could do was hide.

The knocking on your door came violently and unexpected. You had been hunched over the toilet bowl when it came and, with a quick drink of water, you answered it to see Price there, holding a radio.

"Take this, you have ten minutes," he whispered. Looking down at it, you could hear faint gunshots echoing, shouts coming through. "Get him home,"

"Simon?" You whispered, feeling almost as fragile as the being inside of you was. You could hear a grunt, the whooshing of helicopter blades nearly overpowering everything. "Simon?" You said, louder this time.

When his voice came through, you felt you could almost cry. "Yes, lovie?" He whispered, a gunshot coming from far too close to be anything but his own. "I'm here," he added.

You nearly sobbed into the radio, pulling the radio closer to yourself. "Oh god, Simon, please," you whispered. "Please come home, make it here," he gave a sharp laugh.

"Thought you didn't want to talk to me until I apologized," he said, grunting as he did something. You had no idea what, but you just knew his voice was here. "I'm in a bit of a pickle," he said, growing quiet for a few minutes. Neither of you spoke, and you could feel your heart hammering.

Swallowing thickly, you leaned closer to the radio. "'m sorry," you whispered into it. "I'm so, so sorry," you could feel gasping hiccups coming from your body. He hushed into the radio, giving you little comments here and there to calm you.

You could nearly see his head shake. "You shouldn't be apologizing," shouts came from around him. "I'm so sorry, love," he whispered. The radio cut out, static screeching through the speaker. You stared down at the radio, blinking tears from your eyes.

"No," you whispered, trying to get the radio to cut back in. "No!" You shouted, dropping to your knees and sobbing. "Please," you whispered, sobs bursting through you chest. You could barely hear the door open, barely felt arms circling around you as you sobbed.

Shushes and hums came from Price as he rocked the two of you, holding you close to him.

"Please tell me he's not dead," you whispered into his chest and Price just shushed you. "I was thirteen hours late, Price," you sobbed.

Taglist:

@sae1kie @shinebright2000 @zechie-spams @itsmadamehydra @smiley-roos @enrapturedbythemoon @stargatenovus @cowboydisaster @404lunar @josieguts

#angst #hurt/comfort #simon ghost riley x reader #no use of y/n #call of duty x reader #task force 141 #simon riley #simon riley x reader #cod mw2 #modern warfare ii #ghost mw2 #call of duty #simon riley x you #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #simon ghost riley #hurt/no comfort #maple syrup

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wlwprker · 5 months

Text

your little things- tom!peter parker x reader

a/n: I have a lot of old stuff that was posted on my old Tumblr, and this was one of them :)

warnings: brief mentions of anxiety, not proofread a lot so I apologize for grammar or spelling mistakes! italics indicate a flashback.

w/c: 1,847

-Peter Parker-

Peter was aware that you didn't think he noticed or paid attention to the little things that you do but he does, he always pays attention to you.

He notices the way that you love to sit by the window reading a book when it rains because the sound of the rain hitting the window makes you feel calm. He admires how you can get so caught up in your books and how your face lights up with different emotions depending on what was happening in the books you always got lost in.

Your little things that make you so wonderful, he notices them all and he loves them all because they're what makes you so beautiful and he loves everything about you.

Peter loves to look at you and he adores all of your little things, especially the ones that you're insecure about but he doesn't know why because everything you do is beautiful to him.

He picks up on things that you didn't even know he knew about or took note of. He knows when you're anxious because of the way you always bounce your legs repeatedly and how you nervously play with the rings on your fingers. He notices it all. Peter notices that when you're incredibly anxious, you draw patterns on yourself to attempt to calm yourself down, but it doesn't always work, which makes you more anxious.

When he senses that you're having one of your really rougher days, he is there to help you because Peter loves and supports you... Always.

Today you were having a hard day, nothing seemed to be making you feel better. Peter knew instantly because when he took peaks at you every so often, he saw the way that you couldn't stop bouncing your legs and the fact that your hair had been messed up from the number of times that you pulled at it in frustration. He takes note of a simple fact: you cannot sit still. Peter worries for your poor lips that you've bitten down on many times throughout the night.

Peter wasn't even doing anything productive if he's being honest, he was just writing out a study guide for a test that wasn't for another 3 weeks. He put his pencil down and walked over to you and sat down on his bed next to you, you were so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn't even know he left his desk. He softly touched your thigh to remind you of his presence because he knew that you were a million miles away.

"Oh! I'm sorry Peter, did I interrupt your work?" Peter's heart stung with pain as he heard the hurt in your voice because you were genuinely worried that you distracted Peter from his work. You turned your head slowly to look at him and his heart swelled because every time that you look at him, it's as if he's looking at you for the first time. Peter took your shaky hands in his and intertwined your fingers with his and placed a soft kiss on your knuckles.

"I don't care about my work; I care about you. What's got you so anxious today, sweetie?" Peter asked while he rubbed comforting circles on the back of your hand, your hands had stopped shaking. He watched as you sighed deeply and laid your head down in his lap.

"There's just so much happening and it's happening so fast, it's nothing particular, it's just well...everything. I don't know but it's breaking me down, Pete." He visibly frowns when he could hear the genuine suffering in your voice, and he knows how much it sucks to be anxious. He took the hair-tie that was practically falling out anyways and let your hair fall down onto his lap.

"Baby, I'm so sorry that you're dealing with this, but you don't have to deal with this alone." Peter played with your hair, and he could physically feel that your rapid heartbeat was returning back to its normal pace, he knows how the simplest gestures can ease your anxiety. Peter used his free hand to draw patterns on your arms because he knows how you try to do that when you want to relax.

Peter easily sensed that you are starting to finally relax, and he can feel the way your entire body is visibly softening just by the touches from your favorite person, Peter Parker.

Peter always knows how to make you feel safe, he's made mental notes of things he does that makes you feel safe, loved and at peace.

You love random displays of affection, which is completely fine with Peter because he loves to be affectionate with you. You love when he is affectionate with you because it reminds you of how lucky you are to have such a lovely person in your life.

You'd never admit it to him but he knows how much you love the pet names and compliments he gives you so he will compliment you any and every chance that he can.

Peter knows how you're not very open to talking about your feelings, but he always feels a sense of pride and love when he realizes that despite you not being open to share your feelings, he's made you feel safe and comfortable enough to share those parts of yourself with him.

Peter always loved to give you small kisses here and there just to let you know he appreciates you, but he had no idea how much those meant to you. He smiles to himself as he remembers the day that you told him how much you like his small kisses and ever since that day, he gives you random kisses throughout the day...every.single.day.

Peter was coming home from his nightly patrolling duties and he climbed through the window that led into your room, you always left the window open for him, he'd always have a place here. Peter watched in adoration as he caught the sight of you lying in your bed, with glasses perched on top of your head and a book lying face down on your stomach as you slept peacefully. He quietly removed your glasses from the top of your head and marked your place in your book (he knew how mad you'd be if he didn't) and placed them both carefully on the bedside table. He removed his suit, took a shower and changed into the spare clothes he left at your place and calmly climbed into the bed next to you.

You were a very light sleeper so no matter how hard he tried to be quiet, you were very aware of his presence. "Peter? Is that you?" He almost laughed at the sound of your sleepy voice. He moved a piece of hair away from your face and smiled to himself at the sight of your half-closed eyes and eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

God, you are absolutely gorgeous.

"Shh, love, it's okay. Go back to sleep." Peter whispered as he watched you drift back to sleep and he pulled you closer to him as you wrapped your arms around his body and he held you close. Peter kissed your forehead and whispered goodnight into your ear and you're a light sleeper so you stirred in your sleep.

"Mmm. I like when you do that, Pete". You mumbled in your sleep-like haze.

If it was anybody else, they would not even knew that you said anything but Peter being who he was and hanging onto every word you said, he heard you. Peter knew you were very sleepy and had very little energy to fight him back which was the perfect chance for Peter to use this to his advantage.

"Do what, pretty girl?" Peter watched as you hid your face in his chest and he laughed, he knew what he was doing, it was funny though because you are just too cute to not mess with. "Don't hide from me!" You begrudgingly lifted your face from his chest and snuggled closer to him.

"I like when you give me random kisses like that, it makes me feel loved and really happy." You sighed happily and began drifting off into the world of dreams.

"Oh how I love you, Y/n." Peter confessed for the first time. The corners of your lips twitched upwards as you started to feel sleep overtake you for the millionth time that night.

"I love you too, Peter." Peter placed a gentle kiss to your hairline, and he fell asleep.

You love kissing Peter; you really do but Peter discovered that you also love other kinds of things that he does to show you how much he adores you. To other people, it may seem small but to you, it was everything which meant that Peter continued to do them. You love when Peter locks his pinky finger with yours and places a soft kiss to your pinky, it's such a mundane gesture but it reminds you of how safe you feel with Peter, and he does it with so much love and devotion that you can't help but fall even harder for the brown eyed boy.

Peter can go on and on about all the things he loves about you. Whenever someone asks him if he has a favorite little thing that you do, his answer is always the same.

His favorite little thing that you do is loving him.

Peter never really had a way with words, when he really cared for someone, he would get starstruck and the words would escape him. He always felt bad about it because he has so much love to give and he wants to share it, but the words never left his lips, he would stutter because his emotions clouded his senses, and the words would dissolve into thin air. You changed that for him. When people would ask him what being loved by you is like, the words poured out of him easily as if it was as easy as breathing, he didn't have to think too hard.

Your love is so warm and comforting and being loved by you is like falling asleep next to a fireplace, on a freezing winter day while drinking a cup of hot chocolate. The feeling of your love is so special, he could talk forever about it but he knows that there aren't enough words in the entire universe to fully express how much you mean to him.

You would so call him super cheesy and a romantic, but he means it. He only became all mushy and lovey dovey because of you.

It's the feeling of his knees going weak as he locks eyes with you from across the room. It's the feeling of safety when he holds you close to him in bed at night.

That is what it's like to be loved by you.

The little things you do remind him of what being loved feels like and maybe one day, there will be a ring on your finger, a forever one.

#tom!peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #wlwprker🥀💌#peter parker #tom!peter parker x reader #spiderman #mcu spiderman

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marzipanandminutiae · 27 days

Note

Do you know much about historical cuisine? Saw yet another anime with friends and they went the whole 'modern food always tastes better' bit. I feel tired of the trope and am wondering how different historical cuisine would taste compared to modern times. So anything you happen to know as a historian would be cool to know!

That varies MASSIVELY based on time and location. Like. Much more than fashion does, even, I'd imagine (in a given sub-region- I can talk about Mainstream European and Euro-American Fashion of the 19th CenturyTM but the food was so different in different countries that were dressing the same, if that makes sense? just as an example).

Food is often more globalized in a lot of places nowadays, so the characters might have more diversity of flavors from the regional norm than they're used to. But this could be a good or a bad thing- a woman from 17th-century Japan might love pizza and much sweeter Western pastries, or she might absolutely hate them. Which is not to say regional cuisines haven't evolved, too- a museum here in Boston used to have tastings of 18th-century-style hot chocolate, and it was very different from the modern sort. But that's the largest blanket difference across the globe that I can think of, food-wise.

Not sure what anime this was, so it could have been Japan-specific, but I feel like this gets applied the most to the 19th-mid 20th century UK and United States. The whole Captain America line about "food's better; we used to boil everything," for example, and the general belief that everything was bland mush in those areas until the 1950s and then it was incomprehensible Jell-O mold horrors until approximately the 1980s. And of course, none of that's true- there were plenty of dishes that used spices and different cooking methods, many of which are still popular today. See also: Jonathan Harker, a Normal 1890s Englishman, getting so rhapsodical about paprikahendl that he simply must have the recipe for his fiancee to make. There also WERE bland mushes and fluorescent nightmares, but there's less than ideal food today, as well.

(Note that I'm much less confident talking about the whole English StodgeTM thing as we get into the 20th century. That is outside my history wheelhouse and there's a lot of different stuff embroiled in it relating to class and such that I don't want to talk out my ass about. All I know is that I've seen plenty of recipes from as late as the end of the 19th century, from England and some from urban Scotland if I recall correctly, that made ample use of spices. Nutmeg, mustard, black pepper, rosemary, caraway, and cayenne pepper were especially popular (not all together obviously). There was a belief among the middle and upper classes that strong flavors of garlic and onion were distasteful to ladies, but the fact that cookbooks and such feel the need to mention it implies that those elements WERE being used in cooking generally, in the UK, at that time. So wherever the idea that All British Food Is Beige And Tasteless came from, it wasn't mainstream late Victorian cooking for adults as far as I can tell)

(They gave kids a fair amount of the beige and tasteless because they believed their digestive systems couldn't handle strongly-flavored- okay now I'm getting off topic. Read Ruth Goodman's "How To Be A Victorian." Anyway!)

tl;dr- The answer to "is modern food better?" is "that's literally impossible to answer as a blanket statement, since it's massively dependent on the character's original time, place, social status, and personal taste- and where they end up in the present, of course."

Now, I do agree that the trope is annoying the same way every single princess being totally shocked and appalled when her marriage is arranged gets annoying- not because it can't be true based on history and human behavior, but because fiction treats it as some kind of universal precept. Mix it up a little sometimes! Have a Regency character who comes to the present, finds out that her favorite local cheese isn't being made anymore, and loses her entire mind!

#ask #anon #long post #history #culinary history #food history

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chamakimalo · 18 days

Text

Kisses and Excuses

Max Verstappen x Reader

contains: fluff, smut, gentle sex, switch!reader, switch!Max, mentions of aftercare

This is pretty much my first ever smut so please be considerate!

If you'd like to submit a request, feel free to, I'll write pretty much anything, as long as it's not uncomfortable for me and I know the character!

What is sex? Is it supposed to be gentle, easy?Rough, demanding? Should it be anything at all? And why not everything at once? Discovering our body's needs can be tricky. At first it might make one feel shameful. Is it forbidden to touch yourself in that spot that your mother would talk about only behind closed doors, in a hushed tone? Is it bad? Sinful?Perhaps. But it's definitely not for others to decide. I always wondered what sex would be for me. Would it be pleasurable? How long would it last? Will it hurt? Is it scary? Those question are mostly answered when you meet the person you want to sleep with. It depends on what their character is, on what they like. And what you like.

Sex doesn't have to be gruesome and rough. It can be, of course. There is also beauty in being ravaged. Beauty is subjective after all.And Max... Max was very beautiful to me. All of him, really. Those hands, pale and quite large. Yet their touch strangely delicate and gentle, as if he was afraid to break me. His plump lips, that reminded me of raspberries, every single time I'd glance at them, which was quite often. His eyes and the way they'd narrow, whenever he was lost in thought. His thighs, cheekbones, eyebrows, chest... And how he treated people. There was something insanely attractive about it.

How competitive he was, how he was determined to win and beat everyone else. Yet he was the first to take care of others when they needed it most. And he took care of me. Very well.

It's a quiet evening. The summer heat is slowly dying down, replaced by the cool autumn air. I'm sitting in my apartment, up to nothing, really. I always loved autumn. I could talk about it for hours. And my boyfriend would listen. I smile, thinking about him. It was surreal to me, how such a beautiful soul came to be my partner. I busy myself with baking, smiling at my own thoughts. Over the past few months, I have gotten significantly happier. I began to care more about the little things, ever since I got into a relationship. As I roll out the dough, I hear the doorbell. I quickly rinse and wipe my hands, thanking the Gods above that they weren't that immersed in the dough. I walk over to the door and open it to see Max.

I smile immediately, not expecting him. “Hi.” He says, a bright smile similar to mine present on his face. I take a step closer and hug him tightly. Physical touch was always my thing, but he welcomed it with a smile. I tried to show him affection all the time, and eventually he got used to it. It took him quite a bit, but now he immediately wrapped his hands around me as well.

“I didn't expect you.” I mutter, nuzzling my head into his chest “I would have dressed up for you. What brings you here?”

His chin is on top of my head, resting on it comfortably. He smiles at my words, gently caressing my back with his hand.

“You are gorgeous whether you dress up or not and we both know that very well” He says, his hand moving to play with my hair “As for why I'm here... I found a candle in a shop I was in and decided to use it as an excuse to see you.”

His honesty was another trait that I liked about him. I smile happily, looking up at him. “You bought me a candle?” I ask, physically not being able to stop smiling. I find the fact that he thought of me while shopping incredibly cute. He nods and shows me a pumpkin scented candle. My boyfriend is a listener. He pays attention to every word I say. How I love autumn, how I enjoy candles... “It smells beautiful” I say, still smiling “Thank you, Max. I love you so much.”

I pause, hesitating. I feel like rewarding his considerate behaviour. After all, love and affection shouldn't be one-sided.

“Do you want to...” I trail off, not confident enough to finish the sentence. Directly asking to have sex still felt weird to me. Max smiles, understanding the innuendo.

“Come on schat...” he says, with his smooth, quiet voice “Will you try to finish your sentence? I wouldn't want to assume the wrong thing” he says teasingly, though gently.

I hesitate once more, biting my lip a little, still in his arms. I look up at him with a contemplating look. He looks back at me. Patiently. Calmly. Softly. “Would you like to...” I stammer a little “...Fuck” I say quietly. It's a silly way to say such a bold sentence really. But he doesn't seem to mind, his soft smile widening at my words.

“That's a good girl.” He says, his grip on me tightening just slightly, although not in a way that would threaten me whatsoever “Yes. Yes, I would like that.”I stand on my toes and kiss him, with a hint of hesitation. He smiles against my lips and kisses me back, quickly deepening the kiss. We move further into the apartment, Max kicking the door shut while moving. I'm walking backwards, so I don't notice the couch, before I fall on it, Max on top of me.

“Max...” I whisper breathily, not taking my eyes off his.He tilts his head questioningly, a small smirk on his lips.Instead of elaborating, I kiss him again. He takes the lead of the kiss, both of us unable to pull away. Unable to stop touching eachother. His hands slip under my shirt, slowly caressing my waist, my stomach, getting me comfortable. They begin to roam higher reaching my breasts. Since I stayed home today, I don't have a bra on. He gently squeezes my chest, without breaking the kiss. I breathe in sharply, looking in his eyes. His lips curl up as he plays with my nipples. I bite my lip, holding back a moan.

He leans in, close to my ear, before whispering to me.“I want to hear you, dearest.” It's as if his words wake something up in me. I slowly slide my shirt off my body, without looking away from him and reach for his as well. He calmly lets me take it off, revealing his chest. Max leans down, beginning to place soft kisses all over my stomach and chest. I let out quiet gasps whenever he reaches a sensitive spot. Sometimes he gets rougher, leaving small marks on my skin, nibbling and sucking on it. I stop him from going further and flip us around, now sitting on top of him. I lean down and begin to place kisses on his neck, gradually deepening them and leaving hickeys. He lets out small moans, clearly enjoying the process. He doesn't mind that his girlfriend has her way with him. He doesn't mind it at all.

“That feels so good, darling” He whispers, exposing his neck to you more “But I want to focus on your pleasure tonight.” I smile, looking down at my boyfriend lovingly.“We can make it enjoyable for both of us. It shouldn't be one-sided.”

He flips me over, laying on top of me again.“Then I hope you don't mind me doing this” He whispers in my ear, beginning to unbutton my trousers. I don't take my eyes off his, letting him undress me. My hands reach his zipper as well, leaving both of us in just underwear.Both of us are aware of what is happening. Both of us crave for more. As the clothes fall to the floor, his hand reaches under my panties and his fingers slowly run over my folds. He doesn't rush. He's careful and delicate, feeling everything out.

I almost want to tell him to go faster, but before I can do so, he slides one of his fingers in me. It's not expect it, so I moan as he begins to work inside me, gradually adding more fingers. Throughout the whole process we don't break eye contact. He wants to see me, my every feeling, my every expression. He wants to hear my every pant, every breath, every moan. And I'm not holding myself back.

“You're so vocal tonight, Schat.” He says in his quiet voice “I like it.” I let out another moan. Max really had his way with hands. Always knew where to touch to make it feel good.“I can't help it when you do such things to me.” I whisper back. He smiles again, leaning closer towards my ear. “How about I do more?” He whispers, making a shiver run down my spine. Although my boyfriend was always gentle and sweet, he knew very well the effect he had on me. He wasn't ashamed of it one bit.

He smirks and removes his fingers from my clit, shifting his position, about to fill me up with something else. My eyes widen and roll a bit in pleasure as he enters inside me, with his cock. It wasn't enormous, yet it filled me good. At first he starts slow, moving his hips deliberately. He doesn't want to startle me. With time, his movements get faster, rougher. He keeps looking at me, but I'm unable to look back, as I begin to see stars. My lips are slightly open, eyes rolled back, face flushed. He found me perfect like this. I moan as I finally come and so does he. We are both a bit exhausted, so he just lays on top of me, breathing into my neck.

“That was... Something” he says eventually “Did you like it?”

“Mmm...” I nod “Can we move to bed for a bit? I want to lay down with you” I say quietly. I tend to be vulnerable after sex. Exhausted, satisfied, a combination that causes me to open up. He knew me well enough to know that. Actually, he was glad that I voiced my thoughts in situations like this. He was more than happy to provide aftercare.“Of course.” He says, looking in my eyes again.I smile broadly at his answer.“I love you. You don't even realise how much.” I whisper softly.“And I love you to the moon and back, gorgeous.”

#max verstappen smut #f1 smut #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader

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felixora · 2 months

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Anders discource

I forgot to post this here as well, lol

This kinda turned into a small essay…. Which is to be expected, it is Anders’ discourse after all.

This text is a personal view of the DA discourse, that is often summarized in fandom circles as “Was Anders right?”.

So let's start with this question: which is better, a peaceful or violent revolution? The answer is: both, depending on the severity of the situation.

I'm sorry to break your sweet dreams about “peace and love”, and “only peaceful revolution are justified” — but that's just delusional.

While I do believe that peaceful revolutions are the best outcome for both sides of conflict, more often than not they are impossible specifically due to unwillingness of the oppressors to seek true compromise. Because where the marginalized might achieve something slightly better for themselves, the oppressors lose the most important thing for them — they lose control.

And then the only thing that's left is a violent revolution. Or, well, death.

The rule of “turning the other cheek” does nothing but perpetuates further violence, when you're dealing with an oppressive regime. Because while the marginalized side often considers the middle ground with their oppressors (just for the sake of “making things better than before, while not risking the full annihilation by a stronger force”) the oppressors have only one in mind: “We want you fully gone, because you oppose our rule. You are a danger to us”.

The thing that I learned in past 10 years is that — ”Pacifism is a privilege”. And those who are oppressed don't have said privilege. They either fight or they die. Sometimes slowly (for ex. by assimilation), sometimes rapidly (in a massacre).

The thing that genuinely baffles me in the whole Anders' discourse, is the fact, that people forget or ignore that he for years tried to do the peaceful revolution. The Mage Underground was a way to get the mages from the dangerous environment, without engaging in the direct confrontation with the Templars. The manifestos on why mages should be free and letters to the Divine herself regarding the same issues that Circles pose — all of these are methods of peaceful resistance.

Now, remind me again, did these actions have any effect on how Templars or the Chantry treated mages? Maybe they revaluated their stances, did a thorough investigation of the possible mistreatment of their charges?

Oh, yeah — IT DID NOTHING.

No, not even that — the things started to get worse and worse, actually.

Any time the Grand Cleric “calmed things down” — the status quo remained. They didn't try to investigate the concerning situation in the Kirkwall Circle or any sort of rumours of abuses by the Templars. No, the Chantry for the most part closed their eyes to these rumours, and when the number of rebellious mages went up, the only thing they considered — was to organise a crusade (an Exalted March) against the Kirkwall. Nevermind, that most of the mages from the Circle and as fugitives were a faithful Andrastians, despite the conditions they were put through by the Chantry.

But of course, “the Chantry is just a religious organisation, it shouldn’t be targeted in such situations”...

So, back to the Templars — they didn't get their wish of cutting down all the mages under their care right there and then. But they sure as hell were allowed to continue to physically and psychologically torture, push mages to their breaking point, and commit any abuses they felt like doing to their charges.

In all of this, the Chantry poses as an enabler and the cause of the laws against mages in the first place. Not to mention that Chantry was responsible for the creation of the Templar Order, and they are subservient to the Divine.

By the 3rd act of the game we have a conformation, almost right away, that Meredith send a letter to the Divine requesting a Right of Annulment.

It's not anymore a question of “if the Divine will approve of this” — she might have said no, it's true. But our characters don't know that. They see the situation, where every peaceful attempt to reach a resolution was met with silence or threats of violence. With all due respect — only a fool hopes for the better and does nothing in such a situation.

This becomes a question of “when will it happen”.

When the oppressors say “I will murder you” you don't go “How about we talk”.

When you propose a dialogue and the opposing side says "No" over and over again, while continuing to tighten up the leash around your neck, the only right action is to fight back. If you fight — at least you have a chance of surviving. Otherwise, — it's death. Slow or quick, depends on the choice of the oppressors.

Another important thing, is that revolution doesn't happen on the shoulders of one person. It needs people. And those people need to believe that the idea has at least some chance to come true, they need to be inspired.

Inspiration not always comes through well-put speeches preaching kindness and unity.

It also can come through acts of violence, if said violence is turned against the oppressors. It shows, that they CAN BE BEATEN.

And Anders’ actions inspired people.

Anders tried his voice, he tried to reach the society in general with his arguments. That didn't work.

He tried to bring change with the Mage Underground, to recruit his friends (Hawke and the party) to join his active efforts of fundamentally changing things — that didn’t work as well. (while the friend group acts uninterested and uninvested in Anders’ righteous cause, Hawke might constantly and only suggest diplomatic solutions, which at the time were already useless and only maintained the status quo)

So the next closest thing is an act of violence against the Chantry — to show all those mages, who are still doubtful, who are scared, who think there is no hope — you can fight back and make it hurt.

What was called “compromise” from the Grand Cleric was maintaining the status quo, where mages in the Circle were still suffering the abuses, while the Templars simply weren't allowed to make them all Tranquil.

How the fck is that a compromise?

If you didn’t get it already — I am a big supporter of action, when it comes to revolutions and fight against oppression.

While acting is always a wild card (you have no idea, what reaction you might get from your oppressors, if you'll receive any support from “external forces”, if the luck will be on your side) — it always brings change.

On the contrary, inaction — leaves your fate in the hands of the oppressor. They might be merciful, they might be cruel — what happens to you and your people in such situation depends solely on their wimps. In many cases — the status quo remains, nothing changes.

The Chantry personnel was part of the problem. For years, they did nothing to investigate possible misuse of power within the Circle, that obviously perpetuated further and further rise of temper among mages.

They stayed silent on the issues of Ferelden refugees, leaving them to fend for themselves in the slums (while obviously holding significant part of the influence in the city).

They obviously took part in less than peaceful instalment and fight against neighbouring religions (see Mother Petrice and the Qun).

And, returning to the topic of mages, they perpetuated as part of their official teachings demonisation of mages as a whole, purposely ostracizing them from society and creating an impossible conditions to fight against. Their word was the law. And even if the mage had a compelling argument for their case — without even a bit of approval from the Chantry, they wouldn't have a chance of bending the society to their side.

So, the Chantry is just as guilty.

Another thing that needs to be considered in this topic are the casualties among civilians as a result of Anders’ violent protest. Because in the aftermath of the explosion there was 100% injured or dead among civilians. One might argue that they are just as gullible, turning a blind eye to the obvious misdeeds by the Templars and apathetic response by the Chantry (all it takes for evil to fester, is for good man to stay silent, after all) — but that still doesn't make their deaths rightful or expendable.

Anders had to make a choice — either them, or the mages.

They are the collateral damage of this conflict. One, that could have been prevented, if the oppressive side agreed to at least a compromise with the oppressed. But they didn’t.

And as a result, Anders had to take actions to unsure at least some fighting chance for his people, for the mages. The sad thing for me, personally, is that he will be the one to live with the burden of this choice, and not the personnel of the Chantry or the Templars, as they didn’t consider themselves guilty.

The other side of this story could have ended with Anders staying silent, Meredith putting into motion the Right of Annulment and then the Chantry sweeping what happened under the rug (which had a high chance of turning the story to the path, where revolution among mages happened decades later or even didn’t happen at all).

And that would have been the consequences of his choice as well, though a much worse option if we're considering that Anders made it the purpose of his life to bring change to the system and protect his fellow mages.

Another thing that is often brought in discussion is that Anders should have chose the Gallows as his target. In this scenario, there would have still been casualties among the civilians (consider the debris falling from the sky), as well as guaranteed deaths among the mages and tranquil (all were located in the Gallows). Anders wanted to give them a fighting chance, not kill them right away.

So selecting the Chantry as his target to shift the general power balance in the conflict and send a message to both the institution and mages across Thedas — is absolutely logical.

Other thing that makes no sense — is the lack of mages who actively sided with Anders' actions while remaining on the defence against Templars (not that weird shit about creating 2nd Tevinter in the Hinterlands)

Because that's how it went with revolution in my country. We have some people who regret the revolution (even now), we have those who are apathetic to it, and we have those who believe in it wholeheartedly.

People died for their beliefs in this revolution, and both them and those who advocated for a more proactive approach and survived were idolised by numerous people afterwards.

Some rightfully so, some less. But it still happened.

They are considered heroes, EVEN THOUGH we also had an invasion of part of our country from our neighbour as a result of this revolution. And in latter years, we are now defending ourselves from a full-scale invasion from the same oppressive force that was largely responsible for the reasons we had a revolution all those years ago.

The majority of people in my country would still, without a doubt tell you, that the revolution and the subsequent violent fight for our future was the right course of action. Even now, knowing how things turned out for us.

Because it brought change. It gave us hope that we can be that force of change.

So when the DA tells us, that there were barely any mages, or relatives of mages who were taken from their families, who considered Anders' actions justified and idolised him into this heroic persona — I call bullshit on that.

That's simply not how things turn out in these sorts of situations.

Many held grudges not only against Templars, but the Chantry as a whole. Many spend their lives in hiding or locked away from their loved ones. The voices of many were never heard, no matter who they appealed to — and then comes this mage, who dealt an irreparable blow against the authority of the Chantry, who challenged their rule and told everyone “the time for compromise has passed, it is time to fight”.

Are you telling me people won't idolise that? Span a ton of rumours and legends around his figure?

I highly doubt that.

I have genuine criticism of Anders as a character — his racist towards elves views are hard to miss. The occasional misogyny (if we're taking Awakening into consideration as well) is also present. All of that can be explained by the upbringing in the Circle and under the Chantry, but it is NOT an excuse, and these are genuine flaws of his personality.

That being said, you don't have to be a perfect victim for your suffering to be acknowledged, related to and your fight against oppression to be supported.

“Oppression” is not an achievement, that you unlock only after reaching certain standards.

It simply exists.And not only you can fight it, but you must.

#da2 #anders

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3447 · 1 month

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thinking some thoughts about the parasitic nature of the shadows, literally and metaphorically. or, what exactly lies behind the ancient gateway OR beneath the constant.

how I see it is that the world is based on 3 important layers. the first and lowest is where shadows reign: which I'd imagine would look like earth's core. second layer, the constant (it's surface and caves, just its "earth" as a whole) being a shell around that said core. the 3rd layer being the moon/alter.

the moon worked as an empty shell around alter: whether the moon was solely made to protect it's identity or hide it I cannot say. & the constant is the shell around the no-name shadow eye thing.

a horribly done sketch to visualize what I'm trying to spew here

point one : looking at nightmare fissures, they always have a faint (or bright, it depends.) red light coming out of it: it matches with the eye's color scheme.

point two : when the ancients tried to make a connection, their entire civilization was destroyed. turned to nothing but dust. which I reckon was caused by an earthquake. bringing everything down with itself(similar to activating the ancient gateway, causing the whole plane to shake): something along the lines of actual earthquakes caused by inner movements of earth itself.

point two and a half : whatever the gateway may be for, i think its awakening the inner beast within the constant rather than connecting dimensions. or at the very least, using it causes that. it may be a literal portal to otherworldly dimensions, but also an alarm clock for the shadow eldritch being.

point three: a bit of a nonsense, notice how the ancients had to move to the underground/caves to connect better with them. moving away from the surface also comes with moving away from the moon which lessened/weakened their connection to lunar stuff and strengthened their connection to the shadows and the rest of their discoveries of dark arts and magic.

point three and a half: if we take the old map as a reference, the ruins were even further away from the surface as you had to take another sinkhole to venture deeper into the depths. or if we take adventure mode as a reference, the Throne Room could be one of if not THE lowest layer of the constant, which explains why the Nightmare Throne as a whole beckons so much power or possesses such.

about the parasitic nature of the shadows:

we have literal parasites. what else you want me to add. its righ th

Parasitic Shadeling also known as Shadow Leech also known as Fused Shadeling & Dread Mites are creatures found in the caves, 2 of which only spawn after opening the rifts. the other is seen leeching off the Nightmare Werepig before his bossfight. Leeches and Mites are two of the most well known parasites. and its interesting how these two come with open rifts.

looking at the ancient murals and their history, its shown that they had to leave their old bodies behind/shed their skins. BUT its also possible that the images are of the parasites entering their bodies/peeking around maybe. though if we take that as a matter of fact, the shadow parasites seen there have a longer body whereas the shadelings are an not.

the image always reminded me of parasitic worms. something worth mentioning is that parasites often target insects and or are found present in their bodies/guts.

the ancients or so how they were depicted are eerily insect/bug looking. even IF they were another type of creature, it would not change the statement. but the insect and parasite parallels is the simplified form of storytelling.

now, i'm not a parasite expert and i'm not trying to be one here. but from what i know or have seen plus my knowledge of other medias: parasites often or always search for a host as they are in need of one to exist and grow.

again, not an expert, but i also like to imagine in this case they work alike illithid tadpoles (? Neothelids). connected to a hivemind/elder brain, changing the form of whoever they take full control of to an entirely different being and killing what was once a living soul. the memories of the host is ever present even if their bodies has changed.

but the mind/soul is not there. a soulless husk taken ower by an otherworldly creature. the illithid can even use the voice/memories of their host as a manipulative tactic which is an unapologetic ruthless act.

funny how we know nothing of the nightmare or shadow creatures. not knowing their names and disrespecting their entire being by referring to them as mere creatures. and its almost impossible to get any of that back, the history is long gone and forgotten.

on the illithid tadpole rant, to me thats the case for Charlie and Metheus. and part of unexplained "manipulative tactic" is presented in ENCORE animated short: Charlie constantly chastising Maxwell but also taunting him by just mimicking Charlie and promising a false sensation of hope or a deal. if it was any other person, i am 58% sure Maxwell would not have accepted the Encore. but by taking advantage of his guilt/feeling he was easily lured into a trap of who knows what.

Nonsensical rant:

point one: another note about Metheus, i like to think they were terrified of the idea of being erased off of history or living and dying without a host thats why they chose a body/charlie.

point one a half: if Metethus wrote the codex and it 'somehow' got to another world, i would like to imagine it's a situation of writing down your life/history/knowledge so it doesn't completely erase who you were or something like that. so you are not forgotten. so others can read and remember you by it. and dropping it off to another world to lure people to the constant is a act of desperation.

point two : the part with "being creased off of history" is a hint towards the William Carter puzzles: in some pictures the name and face of William is destroyed/scratched over.

point two first quarter : to me that's the parasite or parasites trying to destroy William. and in that case, its a lot easier to target someone who was most certainly dealing with identity/personality crisis. as that person would be more accepting and comfortable with the idea of change and what not

point two second quarter : "Maxwell" is the result of the parasitism. took over someone's body, mind, heart and even memories. they may recall things of the past. entirely possible that Maxwell is post product of this issue rather than the parasite feeding off William's memories, but i like to believe both.

point two third quarter : anatomical changes of the body is seen in present day Maxwell, whether its Throne's fault or the inner parasite taking over as time goes by. as if the parasite is not trying to adapt to human nature but to change it and make it fit its true nature.

point two fourth quarter: Maxwell's voice in "Monster" form becomes rather unhinged for sure, but its inhumane too. and it almost sounds like many things trying to make one speak. for whatever reasons, the parasites or parasite is failing to mimic a human and its turning into something else. maybe the parasitic being itself

maybe, maybe the shadow eldritch being is not hidden beneath all the layers of constant. maybe its trying to be summoned and fit there. maybe it's an egg and eggshell situation. and as the time comes they'd eat the constant. leech on it. empty it and wear it's flesh .just like a par

ok im shutting up

ETA: some other points I forgot to bring up / minor edits.

#dst #long post #some things are obvious or discussed before. but i wanted to get this off my system. so #its 3 am. i need sleep #what do i even tag this as #brief mentions of #dst ancients #dst maxwell #dst charlie #dst alter #dst them

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itwasrealtome · 4 days

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THIN ICE

Olivia Benson x fem! reader

⚠️ DO NOT READ IF THIS MIGHT TRIGGER YOU

ANGST | Olivia Benson x fem! detective reader | Masterlist

Summary : Detective Y/N Y/L/N, part of Olivia Benson’s Special Victims Unit, faces a life-threatening situation during a suspect’s arrest, chasing this one into an ultimate falls to his death. Injured but alive, Y/N finds herself in an hospital room, receiving stern words from Olivia about her reckless actions.

A/N : Hello my loves. I'm finally sharing this first Olivia X reader with you. I hope you like it. Please let me know what you think. There are a few people I can't identify in the taglist, I'm sorry.

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This afternoon, the streets seemed even more crowded than usual. The vehicles flooded the roads, coming from every corner and blocking the main way out.

Behind a queue of about ten of them, a police car came to a sudden halt. The alarm was on, and the blue and red flashing lights blinded anyone who looked in that direction.

But no one moved.

Not even the sound of a horn persuaded the citizens of New York to get out of the path.

Amanda’s grip on the wheel only tightened. She had never been able to understand the reason behind people’s insensitivity to this kind of thing. It was such an easy thing to understand. Besides, someone’s life often depended on it. Yet, there she was, turning furiously midway, her partner gasping in surprise, her shirt now stained with hot coffee.

— Dude, can’t you just warn before doing that kind of thing?

The blonde gave a brief glance to her passenger. She expected to find her glued to the door, her fingers clenched around the top handle, but she didn’t.

Y/N was desperately trying to absorb the contents of her cup on her worktop. The wipers provided with her order, finally finding their use.

While most people would have been annoyed about staining a piece of clothing, the young detective was not. She seemed much more upset about losing a few drops of her beverage. The former could still be replaced, but the latter was definitely needed.

— Sorry about your shirt.

— Yeah, well you owe me a coffee.

The driver’s smile only widened when she heard her partner muttering complaints. She knew her well enough to say that it had nothing to do with that slight accident. It was cute. Of course, it was. But Amanda could see through it. She knew it had nothing to do with the coffee. Sure, the days were long and their job involved finding stimulants to stay awake, but Y/N was never acting like that. Something was different. And who better to notice than someone who practically lived with her?

— Sure you’re okay?

— Rollins, it’s just a shirt. I think I can get over it.

Amanda gave her a knowing glance. She expected this kind of answer from the young officer. Everyone knew what kind of person she was.

Committed, she was always the first to arrive at the precinct and the last to leave. She was practically married to the job by now. And though Kat had trouble following orders, Y/N did not. She was the perfect partner. Amanda couldn’t remember a time when Y/N had lost control. But these days, everything seemed to fall apart.

It began with a couple of small comments, here and there, a bit too harsh coming from Y/N’s mouth. Next up, her silence during the team talk was a concerning factor for Amanda. If anyone always had something to add to the investigation, it was her. This ranged from a simple detail no one had noticed, to scientific or sociological facts. It was often complicated to keep the detective quiet, so her lack of involvement was bound to catch the eye. That and the fact the blonde had seen her leave the bunks two mornings in a row at the exact same time.

Sure, it was just the addition of minor details. But the older woman’s gut was not wrong, not about this. Something was wrong with her partner. And it had nothing to do with a simple lack of caffeine.

— Oh, don’t give me that kind of look.

— But you’re not telling me the truth, Y/N/N!

Y/N huffed quietly. At times in her life, she hated being around people whose job was to investigate. She cursed them all equally. She just couldn’t help herself the last few days. Her anger was aimed at a specific and unique person, but that person being in law enforcement themselves, it was almost overwhelming to go to work every day. Time seemed to run too slowly there. The only moments she enjoyed were those outside the building. The cold New York weather allowed her to clear her mind and take a deep breath. And she always had something to do, after all the city never slept.

—Like you don’t keep anything to yourself, huh?

Amanda faintly spluttered. Everyone knew she had had difficult times, but she wasn't the only one. And now that she was honest with herself, she knew she had made mistakes. One thing’s for sure, she did not want her partner to replicate these.

— I made some mistakes, most of them I don’t want you to repeat.

— I seriously doubt you did this one.

That was all she could get out of the young detective. Amanda knew it as she watched her turn toward the window. The mere reflection of her face gave her a glimpse of what she was really feeling inside, a sweet mixture of anger and bitterness. Whatever the problem was, it wasn't something they could fix with a drink. And this worried the blonde even more.

— Just promise me you won't do anything stupid.

These words captured the passenger's interest again. She arched an eyebrow at her partner, a smile forming at the corner of her lips. Knowing their duo’s dynamics, she had dozens of retorts on the tip of her tongue, all of them a little more mischievous than the last. Instead, she just shook her head gently. Amanda didn't have to know how upset she was about the whole thing. She didn’t deserve to worry so much. And Y/N certainly had no right to be such a burden to her partner.

— Like what? Jumping off a building? y/n chuckled at the blonde’s glare. Relax. I won’t do anything of that kind, I promise.

At that very moment, the young detective genuinely meant it. She had not gotten up with such an idea in mind. If jumping off a building was regarded as a very stupid gesture, she considered her routine more so.

It was in the way the precinct’s bunks were beginning to feel like home. And how she spent every second of her days with the badge on her waist. She had no idea when she had last stepped into her apartment for more than a shower. Her desk was overflowing with paperwork and books in which she always found a way to bury herself. It was much more than a way to distract herself. At all costs, she avoided raising her head, out of fear of meeting the gaze that froze her every time. The path she was on was, for that matter, significantly more dangerous than whatever stupid thing Amanda was thinking about.

But she could not say that to her.

To anyone, actually.

— Weren't we just called to make sure that this jerk wasn't prowling around the residence?

In any other context, Y/N would have felt like a fool. Her back nearly arched as she tried to make out what was going on in a street they weren't even close to yet. She may have lacked sleep and insight into her personal life, but her cop intuition never failed her.

— You'd be sure of that if you'd listened to a single word the captain said.

— Something’s wrong.

Amanda brought them to the next intersection before momentarily stopping the car. The sight over her partner’s shoulder sent a chill down her spine. Despite years of experience, she couldn’t help but feel a rush of adrenaline every time. The crowd of cops down the street certainly wasn’t helping. They were everywhere. Mostly hidden behind their vehicles. But their vests did not go unnoticed and neither did their weapons pointed at a specific target.

— Crap, I hate when you’re right about this stuff.

— Hum…what was that you were saying about our captain again? y/n faced her friend with a teasing smile on her face. She couldn’t help herself. Always listen to what sh–

The sudden acceleration of the vehicle silenced Y/N. She felt grateful once again that her belt was keeping her safe. No day went by without her being in some kind of danger, but she never thought she’d have to worry about dying while Amanda was behind the wheel.

— Would you please stop doing that? cried the younger detective, her hands still clutching the top handle. And since when do you drive so badly? Damn it.

— Guess now you’ll stop driving like a maniac if I let you get behind the wheel.

The door swung shut before she could react. She stepped out of the car herself and walked over to Amanda. A vest was tossed in her face before she could even think about opening her mouth. But anyone who thought she would have given up so easily was wrong.

— I do not drive like a maniac.

Her friend gave her a knowing look as she closed the trunk. Now was definitely not the time to have this kind of conversation, but Amanda was glad her partner hadn’t lost everything that made her the person she was.

She was relentless, both in her work and in her personal life. To be defeated by a suspect in an interrogation room was a rare occurrence. Within the profession, many officers wondered about her career choice. They could imagine her leaving the field to terrify judges in a courtroom. Perhaps because they were themselves scared to death to face her. Seeking victory in a debate with a woman like Y/N was a waste of time. She knew when she was wrong, and would always acknowledge it. Nevertheless, she also knew when she was right. And in those moments, Amanda was the first to grab a bag of popcorn.

— That you do.

The detective’s hands found the velcro on the vest from memory as she was too busy glowering at her friend. The protection weighed on her shoulders. It was almost enough to give her a reason to fall apart. That, and the weight of life that was beginning to take its toll on her.

Slightly defeated, she stomped over to Amanda to catch up with her. She knew the other detective was right. Her anger was evident in the way she drove. Since then, she was assigned the role of co-pilot. It was okay. But she loathed being deprived of her usual distraction. It was starting to loop in her mind. She needed a way out.

— Detective Rollins and Y/L/N, Special Victims Unit.

Amanda shoved her badge in the man’s direction, half-expecting him to tell her to piss off. He dominated the scene with his large stature and a rank evident to all. The rookies were following his orders and keeping their mouths shut. Something that obviously wouldn't work with Olivia Benson-trained agents. He didn't seem to mind, guiding the two detectives as close as possible to the scene. But then, the mere idea of having to send men into the building made him raise his chin in an authoritative, disapproving manner.

— Our only witness is trapped in this building, Rollins began the fight, finger pointing accusingly. I don't care how, I want that man in custody.

If one of them had looked up for even half a second, instead of fighting over who had the biggest –which was obviously Y/N in this situation– they might have been able to stop the young detective in her tracks. Amanda had had enough of listening to the man's whining as he waved his rank in her face. And her colleague, the one she was supposed to look after, was tired of simply waiting.

As discreet as a mouse in the middle of the city, Y/N circled the building and quickly found a fire escape. It wasn't exactly what she'd had in mind when the impulse to walk into the building first came to her, but she couldn't really say she'd given it much thought. With a bit of imagination, and a little help from a trash container, she managed to pull herself up to the top. Now, maybe that was the beginning of a crazy idea. She could already imagine her partner and captain scolding her - if, and only if, she managed to get out of there alive and intact.

At the top of the stairs leading to the third floor, the detective stopped dead in her tracks at the sound of their suspect's agitated voice.

Thomas Patterson, 45, suspected of having violently abused his wife before killing her, and of abusing his stepdaughter - Johanne Morales. The man's profile was clear: a respectful-looking husband and father-in-law, loved by all, carefree, but once the door was closed he turned into a control freak with urges he simply couldn't escape. He clearly hadn't planned to kill his wife. The autopsy had revealed signs of haste and mistakes that a man like Patterson would never have made if he had prepared properly. But he had made mistakes. His blows had been too violent, Johanne had interrupted him, and he'd had to finish the job quickly - too quickly, in order to hide his crime.

Y/N had studied his profile carefully. That's what she did best, that and avoiding her captain. She knew he was restless, nervous, ready to do anything to cover up his actions. The final piece of the puzzle was to eliminate the only witness, the one who would go all the way to court to see him take the fall. She had an advantage over him. She was there, so close to the goal, and he was unaware of her presence. At least, that was until Amanda's voice came through the radio.

— Y/L/N, you've got two seconds to get your butt over here.

The young detective could have banged her own head against the wall. Boy, had she been stupid on that one. She clenched her jaw, the urge to bite her fist growing cumbersome as she prayed Thomas hadn't heard. But he definitely did.

A front door opened slowly, the creaking hinges betraying the building’s condition. The man was probably armed, the sound of the guard echoing in the empty corridor. Each of his steps shook the wooden floor and sent a current of adrenalin through Y/N's veins. He was getting closer. She could smell him and his perfume. Him and her fear.

As soon as he was close enough to round the corner of the stairwell, the young detective took this as her cue. She charged at the man, her hands reaching for the 9mm held firmly in his rough, bleeding hands. In a split second, the magazine slid out and collapsed on the floor. She sent it tumbling down a few steps with her boot, before landing a knee into the suspect’s parts. This only confused him for the briefest moment. He was on her again before she could even flinch. Her body hit the wall with a heavy thud, the vest shielding her body from the heavy impact. However, the man’s hands found her neck and tightened their grip, pulling her head violently forward and then pushing it back, slamming it against the concrete wall.

He repeated the motion twice more, the detective’s pleas of pain provoking a feeling he himself could not begin to describe. Y/N wasn’t done with him yet. He clearly wanted to lash out at a woman and had a nasty habit of underestimating them all. Only, today wasn’t his lucky day. He was forced into the apartment where he had deliberately tied up the young Johanne. It was his turn to bang into something. The dresser barely tilted behind him, but the vase crashed hard against the top of his skull. He felt the water run down his face, the smell of freshly bought flowers wafting through the air.

Back in a corner, Johanne tried desperately to struggle out of her bonds, her words puffed out by the duct tape over her mouth. She could only witness the struggle between her back-up and her assailant. Watching as Y/N unloaded all her pent-up anger on the man who had dared to cause so much harm. In one smooth motion, Thomas grabbed the detective’s gun, a triumphant glint in his eyes. Hope was soon lost, his chances of getting out of there alive and free close to zero. His opponent was relentless and had no intention of letting him slip away. His only option, he realized, a flash of light reflecting off the window, was to drag the detective with him in his fall.

Outside, Amanda was still arguing with the man in charge of operations. He hadn’t given up and neither had she. Only when, as the argument continued to escalate, gunshots were heard, followed by the shattering of a window pane, did they come to an agreement. The plan didn’t even have time to take shape before two bodies flew out of the building.

First, the blonde saw the man she recognized as their suspect crash hard to the ground, the collision knocking him down instantly. Then came a tremendous thump and the shrill sound of a car alarm. Straight ahead of her, on one of the patrol cars, had landed Y/N. The height of the fall meant that the roof of the vehicle had been crushed and some of the windows smashed. That wasn't what Amanda was most worried about. Her partner, the one who'd promised her she wouldn't do anything stupid – like jumping off the third floor of a building, was sprawled motionless on the broken glass, blood on the back of her skull.

— Oh my God, Y/N, in one stride, she was as close as she could get to her friend. Call an ambulance. Now!

For once, the man made himself useful, radio in hand, as he asked for help. He now stood with one, maybe two, even three victims to deal with if the detective didn't make it. He could already imagine the damage it would do to his career. Besides, he knew Captain Benson very well and had no desire to mess with her.

Needless was his worry. The more Amanda studied her friend, the more she realized how lucky she’s been. Y/N was simply stunned, staring at the New York sky with an uncharacteristic intensity. She began to laugh, full-throated, heartily. It was probably the adrenaline pumping again. Tears joined the party, leaving funny marks on her bloody cheeks. Suddenly, she remembered.

— Johanne. She's alive. Up there. Y/N looked up at Amanda expectantly. She needs help.

***

Captain Olivia Benson had seen enough in her career not to let anxiety get the better of her. She had been beaten, kidnapped, almost died and dragged through the mud in front of an entire courtroom. She had reached a point where facing certain types of suspects no longer made her lose her footing.

But someone was bound to make her lose it.

Briskly, almost to the point of knocking herself off her feet, she made her way through the corridors of a hospital she knew all too well. The distinctive clatter of her heels against the floor blended perfectly with the incessant beeping and distant hubbub of such a place. She wasn't there to see a victim, as she often was. Her hasty and agitated demeanor only aroused the suspicions of the medical staff who had crossed paths with her so many times. It wasn't just a professional matter.

It hadn't been for a long time.

When Olivia reached room 212, she didn't spare a moment's hesitation. One of her youngest detectives and latest recruit was sitting wisely on the edge of the bed, her legs wriggling in the air like a child's. A nurse was visibly busy behind her, dropping more and more glass flakes into her tray as she went. She leaned against the doorframe, arms folded tightly against her chest, eyes focused on the sight that made her stomach hurt in spite of herself.

She watched as Y/N's chest, covered in dried blood, continued to pulsate with every breath, as hematomas were already starting to spread across her face and torso, and as her plain face twisted in pain as soon as the nurse reached for another piece of glass. Just a few days ago, her first instinct would have been to rush to her protégé’s side and calm the agony she knew to be growing in her heart. But she'd vowed to keep her distance and stay in her current position: Captain Benson, unit chief.

All too quickly for the young detective's liking, the nurse finished her treatment and left the two law enforcement agents behind. Olivia had had the decency to wait until the door was closed before lashing out at her, which didn't stop Y/N from rolling her eyes. She'd already imagined this conversation - or rather, monologue - and knew she wouldn't come out of it unscathed. She'd probably lose her badge. No matter, she'd already lost her heart.

— Have you completely lost your mind? You could’ve been killed.

This was the cue for a lengthy sermon that she couldn't escape. The words left Olivia's mouth at a speed that seemed unbearable. She paced back and forth, her arms stretching out in waves of frustration and indignation, her cheeks rosy with emotion. She'd done some stupid things herself when she was just a rookie, but throwing herself off the third floor of a building had never been on the list.

— Are you done? y/n arched an eyebrow as Olivia finally paused. I saved a life today. While Amanda and that jerk were fighting over who had the biggest, which apparently I did.

— No, you refused to follow orders. Not only did you put yourself in danger, you put everyone's lives in danger. Heaven help us again that you were wearing your vest, otherwise it could have been a lot worse.

— I don't know why you care so much, you're just my boss!

Although these words were intended to hurt Olivia, it was Y/N who took the brunt of the blow. It was one thing to know that their relationship had been reduced to this, but it was quite another to admit it in person. The brunette was no longer entitled to worry so much, to ask her to watch out and send her a text as soon as she got home. Whatever had been was no more.

— Right, Olivia broke into an almost scoffing snort. Let me tell you, as your captain, that you won't be leaving the precinct for a long time.

— You’re benching me? Liv, you can’t do this!

— What you did was completely irresponsible. You don't want to follow orders, fine. But you're not leaving this desk without my permission.

The young detective had been holding her breath for a long time– far too long. She'd spent days avoiding conflict, lamenting in her corner, mourning the end of a story she'd thought would last forever. It wasn't just about what had just happened, it was something else, something more personal. She felt as if Olivia had no idea how to express her concern, as if her only option was to play the role of the big bad boss. But she was tired of hiding, of running away, of avoiding confrontation.

— Breaking my heart wasn't enough for you, uh? She rose from the bed, hastily putting on her jacket. If you want me to leave the squad, just say so.

For the first time, she faced her head-on. Head held high, eyebrows furrowed in frustration, ready to stand on tiptoe if that would help reach the brunette's height. She faced those brown pearls with all the courage she had left, her own eyes misty with tears she'd never let flow. This was it, so close yet so far, two souls who knew each other becoming strangers once again.

Olivia reached out with a last ounce of regret, brushing away a tear that had escaped down the young detective's cheek with the tip of her thumb. Her heart urged her to do more, to embrace this bruised woman, to bring her all the comfort she needed. She wanted to take Y/N home, wrap her in one of her shirts, tell her how much she loved her. In another life, where they were just two soul mates, where Olivia didn't have to worry about repercussions, whatever they might be. This was where she could find comfort.

— Go home. Take a few days. Get some rest. We'll talk about it when you get back.

The New Yorker had rarely seen a face shattered in a matter of seconds. Her words had urged Y/N to free herself from her hold, her head heavy and spinning from all the hassle and concussion she'd picked up from the blows. Her shoulder nudged her superior's as she walked by, a gesture of no little importance. She did not look back once to meet her former lover's gaze again.

Maybe she should have.

Maybe she would have seen the same love, the same tears, that Olivia saw in her eyes.

Maybe the ice wasn't so thin after all.

•••

Taglist: @electricboost @womenlovingwomen-imagines @hi-1-1-blog @emskisworld @enjoytheentireworld @arie109 @marvelandotheruniverseslover-adhd @philocalistwrites @wittygutsy @observeowl @ravennewlyn @tina-2005 @makkaroni221 @ssaaggwwaa @youdontknowwhotfiamm @mmmmokdok @hbkpop @micaluvssoccer @idk-whats-wrong-with-me-blog @nciscmjunkie @moonlightjxuregui @thefatobsession @12fluffybunny12 @scarletwitcher97 @thesamesweetie @idonothingallday @clozeliz @realgirlbossqueenslay @l4yne @rain-mikaelson @fanfiction-24824 @sammi1642 @inquisitive-nix @namelesscheshire

#olivia benson x reader #law and order svu #oneshot #angst #amanda rollins x reader #olivia benson

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melrosing · 1 month

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what do you think of the take that Cersei loves the kids as an extension of herself?

idk i think this line is a bit like 'Brienne is Sansa with a sword', in that it may have some truth to it but it's been repeated so often that I feel the nuances are kind of lost. GRRM does say this much:

[Cersei is] a character who’s very protective of her children. You can argue, well, does she genuinely love her children, or does she just love them because they’re her children? There’s certainly a great level of narcissism in Cersei. She has an almost sociopathic view of the world and civilization. X

I don't always know what to do with this quote, bc to an extent.... doesn't everyone love their children because they're their children lol. but obviously here GRRM intends to suggest something akin to the 'extension of herself' phrase here, given he follows it with 'there's certainly a great level of narcissism in Cersei'.

the way i see it..... how meaningfully this phrase applies I think depends on the kid. in Joffrey's case, I think it's largely true: she does genuinely love him, but that is very much based on the fact that he's practically the embodiment of Cersei's own grasping for power. he was raised to be exactly that. her feelings of love for him are still real, but that is plainly why Joffrey is the stand out favourite: Joffrey is what Cersei can never be.

she almost never mentions Myrcella besides as 'my only daughter' which tells us very little lol. in her instance I think yes, it's a kind of love, but very much the love one has for a possession. we learn things about Sansa and Arya through Cat, even if we already knew them. we don't learn shit about Myrcella through Cersei. actually we learn more about the kid through Arys Oakheart lol. so whatever love she does feel for Myrcella, true to what GRRM says, this seems to be based around the fact that Myrcella is her daughter. what does she love about Myrcella?? well. who knows

Tommen I think is the most complex, because Cersei acknowledges herself that Tommen is almost nothing like her, or indeed Joffrey, and that stirs a protectiveness in her, as well as a kind of grief that she was never like him:

I was never so sweet and innocent, Cersei thought. AFFC, CERSEI X

so she has an affection for this side of Tommen.... but ofc is seeking to basically abuse it out of him. there's a kind of protectiveness in this. but then as soon as Tommen demonstrates assertiveness, strength, and courage - but in a way that Cersei herself feels undermined by - she terrorises him. like this whole passage

"I should go to court with you every day, to listen. Margaery says—" "—a deal too much," Cersei snapped. "For half a groat I'd gladly have her tongue torn out." "Don't you say that," Tommen shouted suddenly, his round little face turning red. "You leave her tongue alone. Don't you touch her. I'm the king, not you." She stared at him, incredulous. "What did you say?" "I'm the king. I get to say who has their tongues torn out, not you. I won't let you hurt Margaery. I won't. I forbid it." Cersei took him by the ear and dragged him squealing to the door, where she found Ser Boros Blount standing guard. "Ser Boros, His Grace has forgotten himself. Kindly escort him to his bedchamber and bring up Pate. This time I want Tommen to whip the boy himself. He is to continue until the boy is bleeding from both cheeks. If His Grace refuses, or says one word of protest, summon Qyburn and tell him to remove Pate's tongue, so His Grace can learn the cost of insolence." AFFC, CERSEI VIII

like idk man. Cersei should be encouraged by everything Tommen exhibits here, but because she feels undermined by it (i.e. Tommen claiming, rightfully, that he's the King and not her, and that they shouldn't be ripping Margaery's tongue out), she exacts the worst punishment on him yet. so I'm just like. sure, she loves this kid to an extent, but does she love him more than herself?? I really don't believe that.

when Cersei says 'all I do, I do for Tommen', whilst meantime thinking how much she enjoys power, how Tommen has no business stealing this moment from her, etc etc, it should be quite clear to the reader that this is not for Tommen: this is for Cersei. I don't think Cers herself would ever be able to admit that, but it's quite obviously true. her children may bring her comfort, but she puts herself first every time.

and I think given Cersei knows Maggy's prophecy, and fears all of the time that it may come true.... it is extremely telling that rather than seek any means possible to basically break the curse, whether that meant abandoning the throne somehow to get her kids out of there, basically removing their 'crowns' from the damn prophecy altogether.... or not having three children maybe having four lol.... like anything to make untrue the things that the prophecy relies upon.... well she doesn't does she. she keeps her kids precisely in the firing line, and never even seems to consider a way out besides hording more power for herself.

which like: fine, that's Cersei's outlook. the way it came to be her outlook is incredibly complex, and comes from systems of abuse that she herself has suffered within. but we can't really ignore that Cersei is primarily concerned with self. she puts her kids in danger every single day because she can't let go of the power that endangers she and the kids in the first place. she might love her kids, she might grieve her kids, but they will always come second to her intense preoccupation with self. so that's basically how i interpret GRRM's words; it's not that that love isn't authentic, but that it regularly and detrimentally gets lost in her own self obsession

#ask #cersei lannister #asoiaf

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stormblessed95 · 1 month

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Hello,

I hope you have recovered fully or are recovering well.

I only wanted to say this because I am an over thinker and someone needs to tell me to shut up. I don't have any Jikook fans in real life so these are the places I vent.

I think I am either the majority or.the minority depending on which space we are in that thinks and feels that Jikook are distant and have been for a while. I don't think like only because of the car scene. Even when they are taking photos, they aren't doing it like they used to do before. Before if one of them was taking a photo of the two, generally they would be attached at the hips and in each other's face. I didnt notice them doing that in the first two episodes but I also just saw a small clip from Sapporo and they are also taking a pic but they are but distant from each other. I know it might be some miniscule to you but these are few of the instances where I felt that their relationship was beyond friendship.

I know I am over thinking it but I don't know, I don't feel as good about it I suppose. What happened to the Jikook that would literally smooshed their faces together for a photo? What happened to Jikook that were always seen hanging out prior to the hiatus. I heard about them hanging out all the time.

Yes they were busy and I get that. Jimin specially seems to have been super duper busy but he seems to have built a deeper relationship with the Hyung like but kep.a distance from the Maknae line so I am a bit confused I suppose. Out of all the BTS members, I always assumed Jikook were it and nothing would come in between so I am surprised to see work coming in between them?

I still feel like shiiitttt lol but I had to start work today anyway. Thanks for checking in though 💜

Listen, I'm not here to tell you what to think or tell you what your opinion should be. Think whatever you want. I'm sorry to say, but I'm not ever going to be the one to talk you into shipping Jikook. You think they aren't together, that's totally good by me! I hope you still love and support them as BTS, and I hope you have a wonderful day and enjoy any part of the fandom you continue to participate in, including mine if you stick around anyway on my blog.

I'm just here to present facts and let you draw your own conclusions based off that. And sometimes share my opinions about them, but only with the caveat that no one steals MY opinion and must create their own 😉

So for the facts, babygirl (I use as a gender neutral terms), for as many selcas as Jikook took like this:

They took JUST as many like this, which are (edging into opinion territory just a bit here) just the same as the glimpses we've gotten of selcas taken from AYS

Close together for the selfie, but not smushed as close as they could possibly get without just going ahead and crawling inside each other. Just a normal cutesy photo

More facts! As for hanging out prior to the hiatus (where I guess now it's assumed they never saw each other not even once, which is opinion and assumption, not fact), I have a post already done about all the times Jikook were spotted hanging out outside of work (because BTS time is work).

Hint: it's less often than you think

Double hint: they were still glued at the hip, we just know they were because they say and act like they were, not because we got to see or hear about it

Triple hint: it's probably exactly the same now except we know that currently, at this moment, they choose to continue to be glued at the hip for the next 18 months at minimum

I have other posts about their dates too, but this is the one that covers the topic I mentioned above best I think

Work came between them? Is that what they said or is that what you took their words to mean based on your biases and previous assumptions?

Anywho! Thanks again for checking in on me love.

Just a bit of unsolicited advice that you are free to disregard. I think whatever you decide about how you feel about Jikook, you should consider taking an emotional step back from them, just a smidge. Nothing that is only supposed to bring you joy, BTS or any other hobby, should get you feeling so far in your head feeling so conflicted. Good luck, sending you purple hearts! 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

#jikook #kookmin #jikook selcas #jikook are you sure #jikook theories #jikook discourse #dealing in facts

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rabbitsrants · 7 months

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Could you tell me what's your opinion about kogoro,like you always appear like you hate kogoro that's why I wanted to know (whenever you mention him you tell that unbothered fuckin father) wanna know your opinion please answer my ask

fun question!

I LOVE KOGORO

with that being said, i have a very nuanced opinion on him

do i think he's a good detective, husband or father? NO, absolutely not. i don't even think he's a good guardian in regards to conan lol

kogoro can be very self-absorbed, impatient and superficial. his alcoholism and gambling addiction strain every aspect of his life, but kogoro doesn't seem to care enough to change

a few examples:

chapter 1

chapter 370

LIKE??? SHE HAS TO STUDY FOR HER MOCK EXAMS AND KOGORO CAN'T BE BOTHERED TO GIVE A FUCK LOL

initially, i blamed his attitude on his lack of success as a detective. but he shows signs of being irresponsible in his youth as well, despite working for the police:

chapter 572

even after shinichi saves kogoro's career and introduces him to a lot of fame, kogoro shows no willingness to change. he's chronically self-indulgent:

chapter 853

on top of that, the rare times that ran asks him to do something for her, he acts like it's a complete burden:

chapter 528

ran asks him to watch eri's cat while she's in school and kogoro tries to pass the responsibility on to conan

speaking of conan, kogoro repeatedly gets violent with him when he's investigating alongside him

chapter 12

the reason why it appears like i hate him is because my posts are mainly about shinran and interestingly enough, gosho decided to write kogoro as shinichi's polar opposite in a lot of ways. which he even admits in his own writing:

chapter 163

it's evidently a writing choice that gosho decided to go for on purpose. and i think that's fucking brilliant. think about it: ran growing up with an irresponsible, unreliable dad who often prioritizes drinking and gambling over his own daughter? and that same girl falling in love with a guy who's incredibly dependable, attentive, selfless and everything her father is not? IT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE

so whenever i analyze certain shinran moments, it becomes glaringly obvious to me that shinichi often acts like an anti-kogoro, so to speak.

examples i already mentioned in my acts of service post: kogoro refusing to help ran - shinichi stepping up as a result in chapter 457 and 716.

additional examples:

chapter 192

kogoro drops off ran at this weird, isolated mansion for a meeting that sonoko arranged with a bunch of strangers online and he feels off about the whole thing and i'm like YES LOVE THAT, SHOWING GREAT PARENTAL INSTINCTS

he even warns one of the guys and i'm like YEAH YOU'RE BEING A GOOD DAD, LETS GO KOGORO

naturally, shinichi feels weird about the situation as well, so he insists on staying with his girl, even though it's already been discussed that he's too sick:

so, despite the fact that a) kogoro feels like something is odd about the meeting, b) he warns the guy to leave ran tf alone... HE STILL LEAVES HER AT THE MANSION UNPROTECTED

and i'm like... WHY????? and gosho immediately answers my question:

LIKE????????????????????? talk about bad parenting lol

anyway, turns out something about the meeting was indeed off and ran is potentially in danger. both shin and kogoro lose their shit:

but there's a key difference between kogoro and shinichi and i feel like gosho wrote this difference on purpose - nothing, and i mean absolutely NOTHING will ever stop shinichi from trying to keep ran safe:

ONE MORE EXAMPLE

chapter 347-349

the case barely even begins and shinichi immediately observes that ran isn't feeling well:

he even tries to convince her to ditch dinner and go back home:

when shit starts hitting the fan and ran is getting incredibly dizzy, kogoro doesn't even notice:

again, maybe i'm reading too much into it, but i think the fact that gosho depicts kogoro's ignorance in this situation is 100% by design and as a result shinichi gets to be the anti-kogoro again:

throughout the whole case shinichi worries about ran and tries to take care of her. which is very impressive considering that ran constantly tries to downplay her symptoms:

examples like this occur way too often for me to write them off as a coincidence. we're clearly dealing with a pattern. how could i not point that out in my analysis? especially when shinichi's unwavering loyalty towards ran is something that she gushes about constantly?

with all that being said, just because i regurarly point out kogoro's flaws as a dad, doesn't mean i hate him. it's just that i aim to reach a full, comprehensive conclusion with every analysis i write and that entails important details like the glaring differences between shinichi and kogoro regarding their treatment of ran.

i still adore kogoro. cause like i said, there's nuance. i feel like there's a lot of hidden depth behind kogoro's character that i wish gosho explored more:

he's smarter than people think

chapter 11

HE'S THE FIRST PERSON TO QUESTION CONAN'S REAL IDENTITY, EVEN BEFORE RAN:

chapter 165

to everyone's suprise, kogoro deducts that eri lost her wedding ring and he goes out of his way to find it for her:

there are more examples of him showing decent detective skills during certain cases but this post is already long enough lol so i'm not getting into that

he can be very idealistic

chapter 86

him holding an old and dear friend accountable for murdering someone:

chapter 376

him doing the same again with a childhood friend:

HE HAS HIS MOMENTS, OKAY?!

chapter 266

I LOVE IT when kogoro shows his vulnerable side, i find it so heartwarming:

chapter 986

OR HIS BADASS SIDE (this is him protecting eri from a guy who's about to sexually assault her)

WHAT A KING

and even though i shit on his parenting a lot he can be very endearing at times! examples:

chapter 207

his reaction to ran dreaming about the one time that shinichi asked her to give him her bra (it was for a case lol)

chapter 254

MY FAVORITE KOGORO MOMENT:

it's a small but incredibly touching gesture and i love him so much for moments like this

chapter 255

HE CAN BE SO SUPPORTIVE AND SWEET

chapter 765

even though i criticized him for his treatment of conan earlier, shinichi and kogoro have their moments as well. the ramen case is one of my favorite moments between them, it's just so wholesome!

this case is giving dad and son-in-law eneregy!

to sum up my very long response: kogoro is an overall shitty person but he can be very smart, idealistic and sweet and i wish gosho explored those aspects of his character more, cause i feel like he gets sidelined a lot. he often uses kogoro for comedic relief which is fair to a certain extent cause kogoro is HILARIOUS and makes me laugh all the time but gosho keeps giving the bigger and more meaningful plotlines to characters that I DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT (looking at you amuro) and i think that's a fucking shame cause kogoro has a lot of potential

hope that answers your question! :)

visit the shinran library for more

#kogoro mouri #shinichi kudo #ran mouri #shinran #dcmk #case closed #detective conan #ship analysis

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