enixamyram · 6 months ago
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I've seen a few people complain that Charlie and Vaggie's fight was too rushed and I think it's kind of funny. Because after episode 6, I very specifically said to my friend that I hoped they wouldn't drag it out too much. Like, I wanted it to be addressed, of course, but it'd just be pointless drama to have them have a prolonged angst session right before a big fight.
And in the end, I'm really happy with how it was handled. We saw Charlie sulking and dealing with her misery, she showed resentment towards Vaggie while not outright throwing her aside, vented about her feelings and situation to multiple people. And in the end she really talked about the whole problem and listened to the advice and words of wisdom from Rosie. Finally she came to the realisation that this secret didn't change anything about who Vaggie was or their relationship.
I genuinely believe it was handled perfectly! Another reason I love this series so much. Genuine talking through problems and realistic solutions between characters we want to see come out on top.
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vivwritescrappythings · 20 days ago
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words fall short
knight!könig x plus-size!fem!reader
part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 5 - part 6
you can’t stop thinking about some rude words said about you at last night’s feast, but your knight doesn’t let you worry for long.
tw: plus size reader, fem reader, kissing!, negative self talk, body image issues
wc: 2.5k
masterlist
Winter’s chill had settled over the castle. Snow blanketed the courtyards and gardens, ice frosting the windows with flowers at the corners of the panes. The evenings stretched longer, fires became more comforting.
You found your days occupied with the other ladies in court, the social season in full swing as you attended parties and feasts and balls. It was hard to watch your father still hold out hope, each event had him sending middle-aged suitors your way. Each one was worse than the last, his desperation apparently growing.
König did not broach the subject of your dance, so neither did you. You chalked it up to the lack of sleep and your knight being far too kind. That was all it could be, a misunderstanding on his part of his duties. Maybe he did not like seeing you dejected.
Nothing more.
The day was slow and lazy, a thick layer of snow covering the land around the palace forced everyone to the comfort of their hearths. You were curled up in an overstuffed armchair near the large fireplace in the library, slippers kicked off onto the carpet and knees drawn up beneath your skirts as you read.
The library was your favorite part of your father’s decision to relocate you to the royal palace, you had never had access to so many books in your life. It was a lesser-traversed part of the castle, members of the King’s Counsel occasionally searching the shelves for some historical ledger that had been filed away. They hardly did more than green you politely.
If anything, König’s presence was what alerted them, his large stature looming near a column that stood a few paces away from your preferred armchair. Their gasps of surprise pulled you out of your reading, your eyelashes fluttering over your cheekbones before your gaze cut to König’s conspiratorially.
He always met your smirk with a slow blink of his blue eyes beneath his shroud. You were starting to memorize the broad variety of his expressions, hanging onto every movement of his eyes and tilt of his head. It was easier to decipher what he was feeling—his eyes were shockingly expressive when you actually paid attention to them.
Any time he startled a lord he straightened up like a peacock ruffling its own feathers, squaring his shoulders and stacking his head at the top of his spine rather than his typical slouch. That was when you realized he enjoyed the way they paled at the sight of him, their stammered greetings to you.
You would not have been surprised to learn he was smiling beneath the shroud.
You thumbed through the book in your lap absently, chewing your lower lip as you stared at the flames crackling in the hearth. There were few interruptions that morning but you still found yourself distracted.
Words from last night’s feast still lingered in your mind.
At first it had been a normal evening. The great hall had been outfitted with long tables lined with candles and greenery from pines arranged into elegant centerpieces. The king was celebrating the birth of yet another son, so the food was plentiful and the drink flowed freely.
Even you had been allowed a cup of dark blackberry wine so sweet it nearly hurt your teeth.
It warmed you from head to toe, your smile coming easier and conversation tumbling from your lips before you could even consider your words. You had been seated with other ladies from the court, your father up on the dais with the king and the queen.
You were speaking with Mary across the table when you heard the first whisper of your name intermingled with the voices around you. It ran a chill down your spine like a fingernail sliding along your vertebrae.
It was impossible to place. Perhaps it was not your name at all, just a string of syllables that sounded enough like it to alert you. Slant rhymes had always been your favorite poetic device, why would you not encounter it in real life as well? Or at least it was easy enough to convince yourself of it the first time.
The sound of your name kept going off like a bell, the word said so softly each time that you continued to convince yourself it was something else entirely. Mary did not seem to notice, so you wrote it off as paranoia.
The first snippet of conversation reached you as the bards took their first break and guests stood to stretch their legs. It was quiet, just a scratch at the edge of your ear. “I heard that her sister married into the Garrick family, but her poor father is desperate to find a match for her.”
You looked up, jaw set as you scanned the people around you. None seemed to be looking your way. It felt as though a bucket of cold water had been tossed over your head, soaking you to the bone.
“Well, she is rather strange compared to what I have heard of her sister, it is said that Ser Garrick married a great beauty.”
“Unfortunate that it does not run in the family.”
Strange.
Strange.
Strange.
It was all you could think about. You never found out who said it, part of you was glad that you never knew who labeled you as such.
You had tossed and turned the entire night, worrying over being thought strange. Strange. You were many things: brash, loud, difficult, stubborn… but strange? It hurt more than you had expected it to.
König had noticed your sour mood as he escorted you back to your chambers, badgering you to know what had happened. You did not have the heart to tell him. The fear of looking into the cool blue of his gaze and finding that he, too, believed you to be strange was too great. You did not think you could bear it.
So you let the word fester.
“My lady.” You jolted at the sound of König’s voice cutting through your thoughts. It took you a few moments to blink the blur out of your vision before you looked up at him over the back of the armchair, the emerald green fabric soft against your cheek.
“Yes?” you responded, sounding more exasperated than you intended. He took a few steps forward, the gray cloak affixed to his shoulders swishing against his armor with his movements.
Your tone must have made him reconsider before he shook his head slightly, the fabric of the black hood over his face settling into place once more. “It is obvious that something is on your mind, my lady,” he finally said, slouching to meet your gaze. “You have not even turned a page in several minutes.”
Heat of embarrassment blistered across your face before you could even think to deny König’s words. You opened your mouth to argue, to tell him that he should be paying more attention to your surroundings than your mannerisms.
Instead you took a breath, looking away from the knight back to the fire. “Do you think I am strange, König?” you asked. You allowed the cover of your book to fall shut, fingertips running over the fabric.
He paused for a moment, cocking his head to one side. You watched as he cast a long glance around the room before moving in front of you, kneeling on the plush rug with one knee as his forearms rested on the flat of his thigh.
Your eyes widened, you straightened a bit out of your contorted sitting position. The question begged a yes or no answer, not something… intimate.
“Why would you think that?” König asked, his accent making the words harsh. It was so sincere you already felt the sting of tears in your eyes.
You huffed, expression crumpling. The frescoes on the buttressed ceiling begged for your attention as you tried to find your words. “Last night… during the feast I overheard a conversation about my being strange and that being the reason my father has struggled to find me a match.”
It pained you to admit it. Repeating the words made it feel so much more real.
You took a deep breath, pressing on despite the tears building at your lash line. “So it begs the question, do you think I am strange?” You were brave enough to look at him again. “You are the only person I can ask. The other ladies in court would lie and my father would as well.”
König’s deep breath was audible, his body leaning toward you. His head tilted back, the two of you close enough that you could see the light of the fire on his blonde eyelashes.
“I think you are wonderful, my lady.”
His gloved hand took yours from where it rested on the cover of your book, fingertips smoothing over the ridges of your knuckles as he drew your hand toward his chest.
Your heart was in your throat, his compliment rendering you speechless. It would be easy for you to try to dismiss his words as a lie, brush them off as a kindness to you. But his eyes were sincere, rounded with gentleness as he looked up at you.
“Wonderful seems like an exaggeration,” you mumbled. You suddenly felt too aware of the extra flesh beneath your chin, the way your upper arm spread out as it pressed against your side.
König snorted, shaking his head.
You spoke before he could, gently trying to tug your hand back. He kept it in his hold. “They also wasted no time comparing me to the great beauty that is my sister.”
“Your sister?” König kept close, his hip pressed against the emerald green cushion of the armchair. “The woman with you at the tourney?”
You nodded, scraping your teeth over your lower lip without mercy. At that rate you would chew it until you were bleeding.
He shrugged, his breastplate now touching your thigh through your heavy skirts. “She was beautiful, yes, but no more so than you,” he said, the same sincerity in his tone. “It was you that caught my eye, my lady.”
“Truthfully?” you asked, voice trembling.
König’s free hand reached up, his palm finding the curve of your cheek. The leather of his glove was warm, broken in enough that it felt almost soft.
“I would not lie to you.” There was no room for you to question him.
You took a deep breath, your cheek pressed into his palm as you looked down at him. Your throat was closing, tears stinging behind your eyes as you struggled for something to say.
Then König surprised you.
He released your hand, pinching the bottom of the black hood over his face as he leaned even further into you. You watched the frayed edge of the fabric lift higher and higher, greedily awaiting the secrets beneath.
His skin was just as pale as you expected, gnarled scars marking his neck. The scar tissue was shiny and white in some areas, tinged pink with lingering irritation in others. You wondered if he sustained the wounds in battle along the eastern border, but you could not find your voice to ask.
Honey-blonde stubble scraped across jaw, the same color and the locks of hair you could see curling out from beneath the fabric of his hood. You would never have guessed his hair was long enough to reach his shoulders. If anything, you expected it to be cropped close to his scalp.
Two scars met on his chin, crossing into an X just below the curve of his lower lip. One went vertical, bisecting his pale pink mouth before jutting off to the right and disappearing beneath the black fabric of his hood.
“König,” you whispered, bewildered at what earned you the privilege of seeing his face, even just a part of it.
“Forgive me, my lady, my words simply continue to fall short.”
His palm slid against your cheek, fingers curling around the nape of your neck as he brought your lips to his. You braced a hand against his chest, the metal of his armor smooth beneath your touch. His heartbeat thrummed somewhere beneath all the layers.
It took you a moment to kiss him back, your eyelashes brushing against the bunched up fabric of his hood as you finally closed your eyes. Your mouth moved clumsily against his—the most you had ever kissed was the cook’s son behind the grainery when you were fourteen. It was a tender and nervous thing, far from the slow and sure press of König’s lips.
His fingers caressed the hinge of your jaw, tilting your head to match the slant of his. The scrape of his stubble against your face sent chills all the way to your toes. Your mouth parted on a soft sigh, letting him slot his scarred lower lip between them.
The feeling of his smile was so distracting that you almost pulled away just so you could finally see it.
There was a vague sense of danger curling up your spine as his tongue teased between your lips. You should have pushed him away, rebuked him for advancing on you and immediately searched for your father. Instead you were leaning so far toward him you would have toppled out of the arm chair if not for the spread of his shoulders and his forearm pressed against your collarbone.
“You must meet my daughter, I assure you she has a wit that catches most lords off guard.” It was your father’s voice drifting between the shelves of books that reminded you of the severity of the situation.
König was already pulling away, dropping his hood back into place as he gracefully brought himself to his feet. You removed your hands from him with reluctance, the only soothing balm the quick press of his lips against your hairline through the fabric.
You did not have enough time to marvel at his speed before your father and a lord you did not recognize rounded the last shelf into your little alcove. Your knight was already at his typical spot against the column, studying the newcomer for threats.
A fake smile plastered itself to your face, hiding the fact that you wanted to scream as you stood to curtsy. The man already was appraising you, watching you like you were a horse he was purchasing.
“Lord Fischer, meet my daughter,” he said cordially. The man was your father’s age, maybe older. But he smiled and greeted you politely.
You wanted to retreat into König’s embrace, pepper kisses along his scarred throat and coax his lips back to yours. Instead you sat down across from your father and Lord Fischer with your hands folded in your lap. The conversation was polite, nothing remarkable or interesting was said before your father proposed he joined you for supper that evening. It was the last thing you wanted, but nevertheless you stood and walked with your father and Lord Fischer to your father’s chambers.
As always, König dutifully followed.
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chaifootsteps · 5 months ago
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the writers have put themselves in a really weird spot with Stolas tbh
they could have had him admit he made the deal initially just for sex then caught feelings and now wants to end the deal
instead they retconned it that he was sort of in love with Blitzo this whole time, so now he's breaking the deal because he assumed they were in some kind of situationship when they weren't the whole time
like in trying to make him look more sympathetic they've made Stolas look way more delusional and detached from both common sense or any empathetic understanding of how Blitzo is feeling about him or the deal
so it's just like he's surprised pikachu face all the time when Blitzo behaves like their relationship is just a transactional business thing - because it is; that's all it's ever been to Blitzo
idk, s2 Stolas just comes off way dumber than Murder Family Stolas who was written like he knew full well what he was doing and wasn't watching telenovelas and projecting onto the female lead, which says so much about how Stolas sees himself as this Poor Pining Sweetheart than what he actually is
a predator who treated his one night stand like a sex on demand machine
Agree with all of this. Viv seems to think that after an entire season of playing Stolas's unforgivable treatment of Blitz and Blitz's disgust for comedy, that she can just sort of pretend it didn't happen. I don't think she's mature enough or a competent enough writer to realize that allowing Stolas to be that awful person who did that awful thing and then doing something with that would almost certainly make him more likable than just pretending the awful thing wasn't awful.
He's her favorite character and allowing him to have flaws more egregious than "loves too much" and "prone to misunderstandings" might mean people criticizing or -- god forbid! -- disliking him, and she can't have that.
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thelarriefics · 8 months ago
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OFFICE FIC REC: Below you will find find that take place in an office, have Harry and Louis as coworkers, or just in general have to do with work.
📖 if it kills me by @nobodymoves (110k)
Harry and Louis have worked together in a difficult office environment for three years. They're best friends; Louis is the bright spot of all of Harry's days. But Louis is in love with Harry, and Harry's engaged to someone else. And that's only the beginning. The Office AU. More or less follows the first five seasons. A lot of pining and misunderstanding the depth of feelings and rejection and angst, until there isn’t.
📖 Baby, Won't You Look My Way? by @peachbootylouis (50k)
Louis tiptoed to the door and opened it, looking over his shoulder for a moment. Harry looked absolutely gorgeous, almost enough to make him strip back down and give it another go. But that wasn’t who Louis was. So he sighed and stepped outside, leaving back to his flat. And for the first time in years, he felt alive. Or the where Louis’ routine centered life runs like clockwork until a chance hook up throws a wrench named Harry into it all. But as it may turn out a change in plans could be what Louis has needed all along.
📖 Secrets, Santa? by @indiaalphawhiskey (19k)
Right, okay, so Harry had confessed his deepest, darkest, dirtiest secrets to a stranger who turned out to be his boss. No big deal. This was probably just the beginning of Harry’s own hilariously heartwarming, wildly romantic Hallmark Christmas movie, come to life, right?
📖 Hike Up Your Skirt (And Show Your World To Me) by @twopoppies (17k)
Louis has a very hands on approach to training his new secretary. How else can he make sure Harry realizes his full potential?
📖 Through the Warning Signs by @ireallysawanangel (12k)
Harry and Louis have been best friends for years, but when Louis suggests they become friends with benefits, how will Harry handle that while also being in love with Louis?
📖 Make Him Want to Sin by @becomeawendybird (9k)
Harry is a curatorial assistant at the London Museum of Natural History, on the day of the big annual gala he catches a glimpse of someone unexpected.
📖 Blame It On Christmas by @larrysballetslippers (7k)
Life was good until a new coworker showed up. It’s a little insane but not even a little bit funny how much Harry instantly despised the new guy. He’s always late, but always shows up with the most charming smile so nobody can get mad. His desk is a mess and he doesn’t seem to have ever learned the words ‘thanks’ or ���sorry.’ And as if a bad employee isn’t bad enough, this particular bad employee is none other than the CEO's nephew, Louis fucking Tomlinson. Or, Harry is the six-time winner of the yearly Christmas sweater competition, but it all changes when a new coworker shakes up his whole world.
📖 On That Note by @allwaswell16 (6k)
Louis’ office job on an omega only floor would be absolutely fine, if not for the alphas he and his friends have to deal with in the building. But although they’ve never met face to face, the friendly notes sent between him and Harry in Purchasing help him get through the day.
📖 i swear i could give you everything by @alwaysxlarrie (5k)
Louis Tomlinson was not a morning person, so he really should have known better than to start leaving secret notes on coworker Harry Styles' desk before he arrived at the office at 7:30 each morning. But he did have to admit that hearing Harry's reaction everyday was definitely worth it. Not being a morning person might be his downfall in this situation, though. Talk about self sabotage.
📖 Hello Darling by @zanniscaramouche (5k)
As CEO, Mr. Tomlinson is used to spending more nights curled on his office coach than his bed, but this time it isn't an impending merger or new client deal keeping him hibernated on the fortieth floor this Christmas Eve. A city wide blizzard warning, a power outage, and a dismal lack of tea leaves him hours away from what he expects to be one of the more pathetic Christmas mornings of his life. That is, until the new bright eyed intern scares the living crap out of him.
📖 baby you're the boss at home by @loveislarryislove (3k)
Louis sets up a camera in the master bedroom, so she can watch over her wife while she's at work. But it doesn't take long for Harry to notice -- and to decide to have some fun with it, at the expense of Louis' sanity.
📖 Sweeter Than Fiction by @lookslikefairytale (2k)
With that, Louis channels every single Drama lesson he ever took in school, and starts walking towards Curly Angel, as his drunk brain has dubbed him in the past twenty seconds. It sounds at least a little less biblical than His Saviour. And then, in lieu of a great conversation opener, he does the only thing his drunk brain can come up with. He grabs Curly Angel, pulls him close and kisses him. or, the one where Louis has to attend the most boring work party and Harry might be his way out of there.
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goshen-applecrumbledore · 1 year ago
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thwincest thursday
a day late, but, answering @red-meat-my-beloved's great WW questions.
what song describes samdean the most?
I really like Thousand Times by dehd. talks about.. healing you... fixing you.. wearing your skin..... Them
if they didn’t have the impala, what car would they drive?
I always like to imagine them having an old beat-up truck. with the amount of stuff that they'd have to haul around, living on the road, that always made sense to me. rough totes in the back full of witchy shit, clothes, held down with ratchet straps. the car is COOL, but it's far from practical. I always wanted to see the back seat full of their stuff.
is there a project you’re working on currently? Do you have a line or sketch from it to share?
I have several things on the go, actually!! shocking for me! here's a bit from a pine sweat epilogue.
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what’s the first fanfic for supernatural you’ve written? Did you publish it? Or if you don't write: what's the first fanfic you remember reading?
I orphaned my first spn fic, actually! my first two. I was on my first watch through, and only on S4, and after I wrote a few more, the first 2 fics I wrote just seemed so saccharine and out of character that I wanted them gone. the first one took place in S4, dean POV, Dean comes back from hell and realizes he's in love with Sam. it was not a good premise but I liked the case part of it. had to do with a selkie. I may re-write that, now that I think about it. self-plagiarize, baby!!!
is there another codependent/emeshed duo from a different fandom you enjoy? Are there parallels to Sam and Dean?
would you believe... no? I tried to think about it, but, no concrete parallels. the last fandom I actively wrote for was the video game series yakuza, so it dealt with middle-aged men who want to kill each other. some enmeshment there for sure, but not codependency. samdean is new for me
what type of wincest dynamic do you currently enjoy most? (sexual, platonic, dark, fluffy, early seasons, etc.)
I always say fluffy until I read an actually fluffy fic, like, braiding each other's hair fluffy, and I realize it's not my jam. so I dunno! I like case fics. tense, sexy fics. misunderstandings and cruelty. not whump, but not fluff. crunchy stuff.
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internerdionality · 1 year ago
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For the WIP ask meme - There's No Reason Why You Should Remember Me
OOh! This is actually one of those that I would really love to get back to, but have kept pushing to one side to focus on stories that feel more pressing. 😭
One of my very first favorite fanfics, way back in the day, was "Happy" by Crysothemis, published in the early days of AO3. It's a McShep (Stargate Atlantis) fic where McKay gets whammied and forgets everything that's been causing him stress lately, including Sheppard. Of course, they both leap to different assumptions as to how exactly Sheppard has been causing McKay stress.
I always thought it was such a fun premise, chock full of my favorite tropes (amnesia, angst, misunderstandings, mutual pining). And then one day waayyyyy back in like, March 2022, I was going back through old fics looking for inspiration and went, ooooh! This would be so much fun to do with SuperBat! I hammered out a couple thousand words in a week or so and then... well. Gay pirates happened, and it went on the backburner. Then back in April of this year, I was going back through my old WIPs after having this Passover inspiration, and started working on it again, but I'm still not quite two-thirds of a chapter in.
Snippet:
When Clark reflected on it later, he was a little embarrassed and guilty to admit that his first thought when he saw Batman hit full in the face with a fluorescent pink burst of light was: Ollie wins the pool? Ollie? This is a real low point. Yeah, this one hurts. 
(He was often late to the party as far as good TV went, what with the whole “secret identity, holding down three or four full time jobs” thing, but once he’d finally made time to watch The Good Place, he’d ended up binging through all four seasons in one night, zooming through them on the Fortress’ holographic projection at triple speed. It had stuck in his head a bit.)
He’d supported Batman’s stance outlawing the League’s unofficial betting pool for exactly this reason—it encouraged a certain desensitization, a jaded attitude toward the genuine threat of death or worse that they faced on a regular basis. Worse, it created exactly this sort of problem, where someone saw something happen to a teammate and their first thought was something—anything—other than leaping immediately to the rescue. 
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jjungkooksthighs · 8 months ago
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He remembers that gown she'd worn. It had lived in his dreams for weeks and months after he had seen her in it that night. Sometimes, when he's alone, he still imagines her standing in it with that same coy gleam in her eyes that she'd used to beckon him that night.
It had been the night of the Iaeila. The night in which all members of the pack would celebrate the coming of another bountiful spring and show the goddess, Iaei, their appreciation for another blessed season of fertility both in the crop and in the females. Iaei was the goddess that presided over fecundity and femininity, and it was custom to honor her when the spring handed its reins to the summer. He'd spent the entire day overseeing decorations and preparations for the ceremony and events that would be held in Iaei's honor, and his mate? He'd made sure she spent the entire day with the dressmaker and her attendants. She had been with them still when he'd returned home to her, the smoky scent of the fires fresh on his clothes.
He'd followed the swirls of jasmine and pine to their washroom where his mate had been surrounded by four other women, each of different sizes and builds. They'd been chittering about which color would pair best with her eyes, their gowns twittering about as they circulated around her. He'd been amused by it at first. Their womanly chatter had been entertaining to listen to. As if it mattered what color her lips were when he would wipe it all away with his kisses and tongue before the night's end.
He'd ended up leaning against the doorframe waiting for them to notice him in his own little game. It had taken one of them to come around to her front, who had had the phial of red lip stain, to notice him. She'd just finished daubing the stain onto his mate's lips before the young, vociferous woman had seen him, her eyes widening in shock before she'd bowed her head and curtsied to him with apologies on her lips. The other three had followed just as quickly, their chatter quieting as they'd shuffled out with apologies under their breaths.
His mate, however...
She had remained in her chair, her ebony-rimmed lids lowered in submission as she had looked at her hands in her lap. Her cheeks had been dusted in the faintest of reds, and her lips had been painted in the color of the freshest strawberry in the fields. The dress she had chosen for herself was red as blood, the straps on her shoulders thin as twine yet they were wound thicker as they travelled down her chest. The sides and partial undersides of her small, pert breasts had been on full display for him, and gods, what a sight that had been. A wide, sharp v-line bodice was cinched at her wast by a thick band the same color. Her beautiful long, thin legs were crossed and on display with the slits cut into the skirt that began along her upper thigh to open into a wider 'v' on either side of her legs. What little modesty the gown did offer was between her legs with the strip of fabric that travelled between her legs.
There had been so much to admire, and so much to look at.
In the fire that burned hotly in the many candles scattered in the room, she'd looked like a temptress sent straight from the Lord of the Succubi.
"I hope you know you won't be going anywhere but our bed tonight if that is what you plan to wear to Iaeila. No other male will be able to keep his eyes off you, and I can't have others staring at what is only mine to see." He'd said with a whistle.
She had twisted her hands in her lap nervously before asking, "You don't like it? I...I wanted to try something new."
He had pushed off the doorframe at that one, his feet bringing him nearer to her as he ogled her possessively. "My love, you misunderstand." He had continued toward her, his irises focusing on the way her breasts had begun to swell irregularly with her quickening breaths with the weight of his heavy stare on her. "You look too tempting to go out in that. I won't be able to keep myself off of you. And I do not like sharing. What I see now belongs only to me, and I should be the only one to see this."
The words had been all the affirmation she needed, and when she'd peered up at him from her seat, he'd seen the burgeoned, blooming mischief in them.
She'd been able to smell his desire as much as he'd been able to feel it between his legs.
Both had been enough for her impishness to return.
The same impishness that he'd seen in her eyes when she denied him in front of his alphas not too long ago. The same impishness he'd seen in her eyes when she would consort with Jin at her side.
He had not missed that thought of hers that had dashed through her head. Of course Jin had fucking been involved in that. He must have had some input in her selections for that night. He'd never seen her wear anything like that since, and nor had she used the same oils since. He'd been on her like a moth to a flame.
The impishness that had danced in her eyes that night does not dwell in her now as she scrabbles back from him while he prowls toward her prone body and begs for mercy.
Mercy that will not come.
He pulls back his lips to reveal his teeth as he portends, "If my presence during your heat mattered that much to you, you would not openly disobey and disrespect me as you do." His hand flings the brass candelabra off the perch of the fireplace that they stand near as he growls, "If my position as leader of this fucking pack and that of your mate mattered, you would not be on your fucking back groveling for forgiveness." The candelabra rolls against the ground as her own nails scratch at it as she scrambles back and he follows. "You dare ask for mercy, but how many times have I given it to you and been given nothing in return but more defiance?"
She has nothing to respond to him with. She grows quiet, her apologies dying down the more he prowls towards her, the clatter of the metal ornament clattering against the floor rupturing the silence, his growl following not soon after. She pushes herself further back, her heart stuttering as it tries to race away, her legs tensing up at the thought. His hand that is wrapped around her wrist tightens in its hold all the more, and it draws out of her a loud whimper, her other wrist scrambling off the ground to grab ahold of his hand, trying to get him to loosen his hold in vain. He doesn't try stopping her either. He enjoys seeing her weak struggle all too much to really stop her for he knows she isn't any match for him. While her arrogance and disobedience do ire him, her small and timid efforts to get away from the consequences serve to amuse him. Small whimpers and whines leave her hesitantly, her weak muscles giving up the struggle quicker than he expected. A smirk makes its way onto his face, and the sight has her pussy throbbing, and yet, intimidation crawls its way through every corner of her being. "P-please.. alpha.." she starts, trying to push herself back. He follows after her, letting her move further away, knowing it'd be much, much easier to get her to stop with her goddamned rebellion if she were pinned to the fucking wall. The thought doesn't comfort him, however. It only tears through his resolve all the more, his urge to get her to fall to her knees in utter submission and apology clawing its way out, his wolf nearly ready to pounce at her. He lets the last thought seep into her mind, satisfaction blooming in his chest when he sees her freeze for a moment, her breath hitching as she tries collecting her thoughts. Her thighs tense up, but, before she can even think about running, he is onto her. His grip on her wrist gets tighter again as he leans down, teeth merely inches away from her neck as he stares at her, his gaze saying all there is to be said.
The fingers he has on the floor curl inward as he draws in the breaths she suspires. So close are they that his lips almost brush hers, her ragged, uneven suspirations evident of the intimidation she feels. That same intimidation has more slick collecting between her thighs.
It would be too easy to take her like this right now. On her back, with her legs spread for him and her neck proffered to him in submission. Even her kicks are weak and measly when she tries to strike his abdomen when the grip on her wrist grows tighter.
"What in the seven hells are you fucking begging for?" He glares angrily at her. "Do you beg for me to stop? Because we both know you are fucking enjoying this." He emphasizes his point by taking one knee and slotting it between both of hers. It knocks against her crying cunt, and any hope she has of refuting him is thrown to the fire when the evidence of her arousal is spread over his knee. "So what do you fucking plead for now? For me to put my cock in this pussy of yours and fuck you? Is that it?"
Before she even releases what she's doing, she tips her head back, her mottled neck arcing beautifully in accession to him, her lids fluttering as she releases a shaky breath.
It's too much. She needs him. Gods, she needs him.
She doesn't even try to hide the thought from him. Her body betrays that.
His irises scintillate as he attenuates his vision on her. "You really have been fucking ruined by me. It doesn't matter what you do anymore so as long as you get a nice, good fuck." He pushes his knee into her sex, her legs closing around his thigh to urge him into her more. "You want it that badly, whore?"
He pushes his knee downwards against her clit, and without a second thought, she rolls her hips against him in search of friction.
He frowns, unappeased with her silence that she knows better than to have. "Perhaps you would have been fucked already if you knew how to behave." He shakes his head as the memories of her disobedience swim through his mind. "But not this time. This time, you'll wish for it, you'll cry for it, you'll beg for it. But you won't get it, omega. You need to understand what real fucking consequences are."
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fakeosirian · 2 years ago
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it's my duty as your house of anubis mutual to ask you about patricia and eddie (for the ship bingo)
BLESS YOU BELOVED MUTUAL if i can rely on anything in this world. it's this <3
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FIRST ACTUAL BINGO BABEY (and arguably there are more squares that depending on what i'm doing with them i could say are true that would make at least one more bingo but i reigned myself in a bit LOL)
peddie is so flexible in vibes?? i love that you can take their relationship in multiple different directions and it's still totally legit/within their range because there really is That Much to do with them (depending on the level of tragedy you want to milk out of them/what point in the show you're talking about/how much you want a happy ending for them) while it still feeling like their very specific brand/within their characterization
in my view (and this may be unpopular? idk) the only thing keeping them together by the end of the show is sheer force of will to not let go of their relationship because its just. A Thing They Need To Keep Doing. even if it hurts. literally everything around them (not just the plot tho that is too lol) is a huge neon sign saying BREAK UP PLEASE GOD. now dont get me wrong they absolutely are compatible, but there's so much about them that isn't re: small things that get in the way that become big things, sometimes incidental/situational and sometimes genuine incompatibilities, that they have to put a LOT of effort in to keep from flying apart by default. that's not a diss/not me saying i don't like them together -- tbh two people that are that devoted despite The Agonies is fascinating esp in the context of season 3b -- but more that they're SOOOO flexible narratively/thematically as a dramatic pairing and i love them for it + they are one of the few ships i genuinely enjoy breaking up/getting back together/breaking up/getting back together ad infinitum in my imagination LOL
definitely unpopular opinion is i don't see them working as a long term couple post-show? (or at the very least they break up For Realz/get different partners/maybe get back together later in life but as far as they know at that point they're done) like ok i enjoy the fics ive read + headcanons that keep them together A LOT but in my heart of hearts...my peddie breaks up dramatically, makes up after a lengthy period of Not Talking and causing hijinks and shenanigans for those around them, and then become the type of incredibly close friends you can only be if you have a very overdramatic romantic past LOL like new partners need to be "approved by [patricia/eddie]" "who is that? your sibling? "ew no of course not. it's my ex" "?????"
expanding on that: i don't really have a "preferred ship" to replace them with (i know i have specific non-peddie ships for them lined up in my fic but those are for the circumstances of That Fic specifically and not necessarily my ideal pairings for them) all i know is i like them when they're messy because they're sooooo good when they finally get catharsis (esp when it's not in the way they're expecting as two people who expect the worst from life and preemptively react accordingly, thus reinforcing the bad things they expect more often than not)
the irony of that is i kind of find it tedious sometimes in the actual show when they're being messy and enjoy their functional romance scenes the most but tbh it's mostly because they get stuck in cycles of being the same type of messy ('explainable misunderstanding #9387982734' i'm looking at you. Sorry) the toxicity is at its best when it's Fresh
inherent eroticism of attempted murder being ? is for 3b but the more i think about it the more i wish i had just full-on colored it in because it really is them even when there isn't possession involved actually LMAO
cursed thing i realized: this may be one of the very few totally legit enemies to lovers ships ive actively gotten into and written content for. i'm usually a friends to lovers pining and yearning enjoyer (if that wasn't obvious already) or, if there's antagonism there, prefers rivals to lovers but peddie....peddie hits
anyway closing thoughts they are highly entertaining and of all of the hoa ships i've spent a significant amount of time thinking about/writing for, probably the most versatile/fun to do things with and have the widest range/mileage? not a ship to be comforted with but a ship to challenge me creatively LOL especially since outside of hoa, if i have strong feelings on ships in a given fandom, i tend to get very. rigid and picky with what ships i like/what i don't (ie. i like despite the horrors of Having Conflict in the Narrative for my ships to have happy endings and tend to avoid ones that have fundamental incompatibilities that would most likely result in a breakup) and peddie is what i have to thank for Opening My Mind to that tbh
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boldlyvoid · 3 years ago
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New Romantics | Part Four
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Summary: She needs help studying for her Case Exercises at the Academy, He needs a date for the annual Banquet... they just so happen to be neighbours who aren't afraid to lend a helping hand, or in this case, a helping kiss.
Categories: Fake dating, neighbours, strangers to lovers, mutual pining, Angst with a happy ending, Smut *as selected by my poll on what you wanted to read*
Warnings: Season 9 Spencer (no Maeve arc), Angst, kissing, drinking, police training mentions, case details, canon typical violence, self-doubt, autistic!spencer, age gaps (24/33), FWB relationships, anxiety attacks, crying, misunderstandings, oral sex (both), penetrative sex, Perv!Spencer low-key, public sex, quickies, multiple orgasms,
Word Count: 5k
a/n: what could possibly go wrong next?
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | epilogue
She’s been asleep barely 2 hours when he shakes her awake, “Hey, when did you need to get ready today?”
“Uh?” She sits up and rubs her eyes, “we don’t have to leave until 1 so, like 11?”
“It’s 8:30, did you want to stay and sleep more?”
She looks at him and sighs, “are we okay?”
He nods, “can we just call it even?”
“Sure,” she agrees without knowing what she did wrong. It was more than just snapping on Tuesday, which is what she was still hurt over. “But I’m going to go, I need to change and stuff.”
“Yeah,” he nods but his smile is sad and she knows she’s fucking it up more.
She gets out of his bed, once it was the warmest bed she’s ever known. Any bed she shared with him was, but now it felt cold and uninviting and there was an unspoken knowingness that they were both genuinely upset.
“I’m still your fake girlfriend for the next 24 hours… can we make them count?” She asks, avoiding eye contact so he can't see her cry if he says no.
“Come here?”
She gets back into the bed and she cuddles into his chest. He holds her for a moment, “you’ve been the best girlfriend in the whole world. Do you really still want to be friends after this? Have I fucked up that bad?”
“Oh honey,” she places a hand on his cheek and looks at him softly, “I will be your neighbour, your best friend, your co-worker, carpool buddy, coffee friend, girlfriend, whatever you need as long as you’d like to have me around.”
He remembers the first time she said that and she knows because his smile is the same. “I love you.”
It hurts, “I love you, too.”
She kisses him quickly, attempting to pull back when his fingers grip her hair and his tongue is on her lips and she’s following his lead again.
“No,” she whispers, “I can’t.”
“Oh,” he stops and his hands drop to his sides so she can get back up.
“I’m going to go get ready, but I’ll come back when I’m done?”
“Yeah,” he nods again.
It breaks her heart to get up and go, she grabs her shoes and she sneaks out of his room, finding her keys in her pocket, she opens her own door and cries the second the door closes.
She cries in the shower, she cries while fixes her hair, she cries while she has lunch. Every song reminds her of the situation, every section of her apartment reminds her of him, the stupid door where they first kissed is closed and she wishes he was stable enough to bang on it and demand an answer.
Whatever was going on between them was reaching a bubbling over point, she can only store so much emotion before she explodes on him.
As soon as she is in her dress, makeup on and ready to go, she walks into his apartment to find him struggling with his bowtie, it makes her smile for the first time since she left his room this morning, “need help?”
“Yes, please.”
She walks over to him and repeats the same movements he attempted, making the bow look pretty before smoothing her hands over his dress shirt and looking up at him. “Handsome as ever.”
“You’re always beautiful,” he compliments her right back but his voice is still as sad as the night before.
“Are you ever going to tell me what’s going on in there?” She pries, tapping his temple with her index finger, “you’re my best friend and I don’t like seeing you sad.”
“I heard what you said yesterday,” he whispers, “about how if you were just using someone you would have picked Derek.”
“And?” She doesn’t get why it’s a big deal because it makes perfect sense to her in her mind.
“And it hurt me,” he snaps, “quite a lot!?”
And the dam breaks.
“Because I proved to them that I’m not using you? Spencer do you know what I meant by that?” She snaps right back.
“What else could it mean?! Clearly I’m not hot enough for you to just fuck and toss aside—”
“I meant that I love you and that’s why I’m with you! If I was just using someone for a job then I’d fuck Derek cause he’s a one and done, toss them to the side and never see them again, kind of guy!”
“And?” He repeats her word choice in a snippy tone that makes her furious but she knows he’s just trying his best to understand her.
She sighs loudly and obnoxiously, “and you’re a take him to meet your mom, marry and have his babies, love him for the rest of your life and one day scatter his ashes, kind of lover.” Crying by the end, she wipes her tears and tries to stay somewhat presentable-looking.
He’s silent, eyes wide as he takes in all her words, “I have always loved you,” she adds, “and no matter how fucking angry I am or how stressed or upset, I am never going to stop loving you, Spencer.”
“Me either,” his tone is still just as upset, “and that's the part that sucks.”
“What do you mean?” She just poured her heart out to him and he still doesn’t get it.
“I LOVE YOU!” He screams it at her with his hands thrown in the air, “I love you more than I’ve loved anyone in my entire fucking life and it’s driving me crazy!”
“It’s driving you crazy?” She can’t help but laugh like she’s losing her mind, “I have been doing everything in my power to make you understand that I love you and you keep thinking I just want to be friends!”
“Because you said you loved me like a friend the first time?!”
“No, I fucking didn’t!” She is so frustrated she’s turning the same colour as her dress, steaming from her ears like a cartoon character.
“I asked if best friends can be in love because I wanted to see if you would say you loved me more than that, and then you fucking said “yeah cause that’s how I love you” which means you love me as a friend?!”
“Because I thought that’s what you wanted?!”
She can’t rub her eyes cause she’ll ruin her makeup but she is so mad she just wants to scream. Pressing her fingers to her own temples, she turns away from him and sighs, she loves him so much and yet this is the most frustrating thing that’s ever happened.
“You are so lucky,” she just laughs, shaking her head back and forth as she turns back to him, “you are so fuckin’ lucky.”
“Why?”
She wraps her arms around his middle and looks up into his eyes with one last sigh, “we have to go or we’ll be late, so I can’t explain all of my feelings right now, so let’s bench this conversation and I can show you just how much I love you when we get back?”
“Okay,” he nods. He rests his hands on her arms and he looks down with the softest glance, he’s still trying so hard to not cry. “I’m really sorry.”
“So am I, I should have listened to you better and explained myself more,” she whispers, “do you believe me now?”
He nods, “I told you, it’s hard for me.”
“I tried my best to be subtle so I didn’t scare you off, but I guess you really don’t do subtle?” She can’t help but laugh, “but I really do love you.”
His hands are on her cheeks, pulling her into a kiss, she melts against him. He breathes her in, it’s the longest and deepest kiss she’s ever had and she honestly feels like he’s taking her soul and making her his. She belongs to him and she knows it, now he does too.
“I love you, too.”
All eyes are on her and it makes him smile, she’s the only one in a red dress in a room full of black and white, she stands out like a sore thumb. She looks the most beautiful, she stands beside Spencer with her arm wrapped around his and a huge smile on her face, it makes him even happier to see her smile again.
The hardest part of fighting with her was knowing she was upset and that he was only making it worse. Seeing her smile return is everything to him, he loves her more than words can express and she loves him right back, he can tell by the way she smiles at him; because it’s exactly the same way he’s smiling at her.
“I see that you’ve made up,” Derek interrupts their current dance to say hello.
The BAU team was always so busy on nights like this, they had all the best stories and everyone wanted to hear them, which meant they typically didn’t see each other a lot for the whole night.
“We did,” Spencer smiles. “Thank’s Derek.”
She looks up at them both, confused, “how many of them know?”
“Huh?” He plays dumb but she can see right through him.
“Do they all know I’m not really your girlfriend or is it just Aaron, Derek and whoever else you told?”
“Elle,” he says her name. “I told the first girl I slept with that I was falling in love with you because I needed advice from someone who has already been with me and knows how I get.”
“Sick, cool, love that for you,” she smiles and walks away.
He grabs her and she stops, “I told you how much it hurt that I had no one to talk to and you told all of them? And you couldn’t even tell me you really loved me this whole time? I thought we were best friends Spencer?” She shakes her head, disappointed more than anything, swatting his hand off her as he reaches to stop her.
“Let her go, she’s right to be a little mad,” Derek holds him back. “let her be mad.”
“Why?” Spencer is so new to relationships he doesn’t know what he’s doing.
“She wants to be your girlfriend for real, let her calm down and then go apologize and ask her,” Derek's smile is sweet as he pulls Spencer into a hug.
It slowly becomes a dance, everyone is used to Derek being touchy with his friends, he has danced with everyone so far tonight so it’s only fair Spencer has a turn. Spencer holds him tight, eyes closed so he doesn’t have to think about all the attention he’s been getting since they arrived.
“Thank you for always being here for me,” he whispers, “but I have to go see her.”
“Fights like this just make your relationship stronger, it teaches you how she wants you to communicate, she just wants you to be honest with her, always,” he whispers with his cheek pressed to Spencer's, “and angry make-up sex is really fun.”
It makes him laugh, “thanks, but she won’t be sleeping with me for a few days, if my memory is correct then she’s mad for more than one reason.”
“Ah,” Derek gets it, “good luck my friend. Good luck.”
When Spencer pulls away, he heads in the direction Y/N left and follows the hallway as far as it goes. She’s sitting on a bench by a window, staring off at the night sky as she takes some deep breaths. She looks a little more peaceful, she’s had a really rough few weeks and he’s not making it any easier on her.
“I know two things for sure,” he speaks softly but she still jumps a little as she turns to him.
“What would they be?”
“That you’re the love of my life,” he’s confident as he sits on the bench beside her and takes her hand in his. “And I’m an idiot when it comes to love.”
“That is quite the dilemma,” she smirks, her eyes gleam as she looks at him and he knows she was trying not to cry by how glossy they are, but it makes her more beautiful, somehow.
“I’m really sorry.”
“All you have to do is tell me the truth, Spencer,” she places her hand on his leg and leans in with a whisper, “it’s really simple.”
“Truth is,” he whispers right back, lips close enough to kiss, “I’m never going to stop loving you, which means more stupid moments are in my future. Just so you know.”
She giggles and kisses him quickly, “I don’t mind being the smart one in the relationship, but you still have to ask.”
“Will you be my girlfriend and let me love you for the rest of my life, no matter how much I fuck up and drive you crazy?” He teases her, knowing she’ll say yes regardless.
“On one condition,” she can’t hide the smirk on her face and he’s nervous at what she’s thinking.
“Anything?”
“You let me love you for just as long? If not longer.”
He nods, “forever?”
She nods back before kissing him just as deeply as they did that morning, her hands in his hair as she presses his face into her’s with force. She holds him there and breathes him in, pulling back with a classic smooch sound, she smiles again, “you’re my boyfriend now.”
He nods with a small smile, “what should we do first as boyfriend and girlfriend?”
She bites her lip and pretends to think about it for a moment, “fuck in the linen closet down the hall?”
“I don’t have any condoms on me?” Is his only worry, not getting caught, not that all their bosses and superiors were there, just that he didn’t have a condom.
She pulls one out of her bra with a smile, “Savannah gave this to me about 3 minutes before you came over here.”
“How much make-up sex do they have?” He asks as he takes her hand and leads her down the hallway.
She’s giddy and smiling, her heels click on the floor as they rush to the other end of the hall and open the little door. There are shelves with towels and rolls upon rolls of silverware in cloth napkins. A vacuum in the corner, some brooms and just enough room for them.
She pulls him in closer and shuts the door, reconnecting their lips as she pushes him up against it. Hands reaching for his belt she kisses down his neck and he’s like putty in her hands as soon as she strokes him, he moans by accident and she covers his mouth with her free hand.
“Do you have any idea how turned on you make me? I have wanted to fuck you since I first saw you, 6 years ago…”
“Really?” His muffled voice behind her hand makes her laugh. She removes her hand and instead runs her fingers through his hair while taking a moment to look at him and really take it all in.
“Yeah,” she nods, “which is why I asked to sleep with you on the way home from the bar, I didn’t know if I could handle it either it, but I’ve always wanted Doctor Reid from the BAU to rail me. I just didn’t think we’d end up falling in love?”
“No one has ever admitted to having a crush on me and meant it,” he whispers.
“I’m glad I get to be one of your firsts,” she smiles again before he pulls her into another kiss.
She kisses the side of his mouth and then his jaw, down his neck and then she’s dropping to her knees in front of him. He’s hard in her hands but he twitches as he sees her like this, looking up at him with lust-blown eyes as she strokes him, she flattens her tongue and taps the tip of his cock to it.
He has to cover his own mouth or else he’s going to get them caught, he moans at the feeling, closing his eyes and that's when she takes him in her mouth. His free hand is in her hair, careful not to mess it up but enough grip to steady himself.
He tilts his head back against the door with a knock and a sign, “fuck,” he can’t help but talk into his hand which only makes it sound louder in the tight space.
She feels so good every single time and yet this one feels different, he looks down at her and she pulls off, “what’s wrong?”
“I love you,” he shrugs.
He helps her back up to her feet and she backs up against the shelves, “come here?”
He helps her hike her dress up, holding all the material up as he slips her underwear off and takes that condom back out of her bra with a single kiss to her chest. He rolls it over himself and lines up with her, her arms wrap around his shoulders as she looks at him, “show me how much you love me?”
He slides in and they don’t break eye contact as she takes him, her mouth opens in a silent gasp at the feeling, her hands grip his shoulders tighter as she steadies her ass on a shelf and wraps her legs around him while he bottoms out.
With a hand on her cheek and one on her lower back, he pulls out and thrusts back in with a smile as she bites back a moan, she pulls his face in close to hers to kiss him while he fucks her. The hand on his cheek slides down her neck, applying a small amount of pressure that makes her breathing hitch. She swallows sharply before his hand starts to trail over her breasts and then between them.
With a thumb on her clit, he fucks her a little harder while rubbing his thumb in a circle. She’s breathing heavily into his mouth, placing sloppy kisses against each other as they enjoyed each other.
She’s so close and he knows it, and then there is a knock on the door.
“Spence, we have a case when you’re done?” He hears Derek's voice behind the door and he can’t believe it.
“Okay!” He calls back without stopping, instead, he fucks into her a little faster.
“Oh!” She moans by accident before covering her mouth with a slap and wide eyes, moaning behind her hand as she bounces on his cock.
He kisses her hand, making her move it so he can press his lips back to hers and absorb all the noises she was going to make, her hands both reach for his back, gripping his suit jacket so tight he’s afraid she might rip it.
She cums with a shocked gasp, it’s as quiet as possible but it still echos around them as he gets closer and closer. He buries his face in her neck and accidentally moans as well as he cums, stilling his hips as he holds her there, sputtering his hips against hers as they catch their breath.
“I love you,” he manages to say between breaths, “that much.”
“You need to go,” she smiles.
He kisses her one last time before he pulls out, he loves the way she gasps every time he does so. She smiles after, their teeth clashing as they laugh, “I’m going to get in so much trouble.”
“I’m never going to get a job,” she shakes her head as she gets off the shelf and fixes her dress.
He takes off the condom and wraps it in some paper towel on the shelf, he’ll get rid of it later. She picks up her underwear, he thinks she puts them back on, but she really slides them into his pocket for him to find in the middle of the case when he reaches for something important...
She rides back to headquarters with Penelope and JJ, both of them want to ask and she knows it. Mainly because she looks like she’s had sex, and also because she asks to stop at the academy so she can get another pair of underwear from her locker.
It’s not until they’re in Penelope’s office that they ask, “what’s it like?”
“What’s what like?” She plays dumb.
“Dating Spencer?” Penelope says, “more specifically, having sex with him?” She mumbles and it makes Y/N laugh.
“In total, we’ve been having sex for 3 weeks now and I’ve had 21 orgasms, and we only really fuck on the weekends cause that’s when we’re not busy…” she grinds her teeth slightly with a raised brow, taking a deep breath, “yeah. It’s really great.”
“Holy shit?” They both look more shocked than she’s ever seen them. “How many has he had?” Penelope asks with a quiet voice, pretending she didn’t.
She laughs slightly, “like maybe 14? He’s really generous.”
“What the fuck?” JJ turns to Penelope and shakes her head and there’s something more there that Y/N can sense.
“Who’s Elle?” She asks and they both turn to her with the biggest eyes.
“How do you know about Elle?”
“She’s the first person he slept with?”
“When?” They both shout.
“So he wasn’t kidding. You guys really thought he was a virgin this whole time?” She looks at them like they’re crazy. “How?”
They both just shake their heads and sigh, stuttering and looking for words they don’t have. “We just never thought he could?”
“Snooze ya loose, I guess?” She shrugs, “so what is the case and how can I help?”
“Right! We have a case,” Penelope snaps back into it, “but seriously Elle? Are you sure you have your names right?”
“Penelope,” she looks at her seriously.
“Right, they’re headed to Roanoke.”
There was a child abduction of a 6-year-old girl, CARD and the BAU were both called out and that meant everyone was mingling on the two floors and they would use as much help as possible.
It also turns out that Anderson’s surrogate went into labour a little earlier than anyone expected; so he and his husband have left for paternity leave early. Leaving JJ without an assistant and she really needs help in the office for this one.
She catches on rather quickly, knowing the protocols from her training and she’s not afraid to ask questions. She’s still in her dress, her heels click on the tiles as she rushes around with files, making phone calls and running from the briefing room to Penelope’s office.
When they finally crack the case and apprehend the suspect, she sits down finally. It’s been 11 hours since the banquet, and she was exhausted beyond belief. She never slept the night before, Spencer was uncomfortable and she was in her jeans and when she did fall asleep, he was waking her up moments later to get ready.
It's Sunday morning at 9 am when Spencer finally returns back at headquarters. She’s sitting at his desk when he comes up and wraps his arms around her, “we’re going home, come on.”
“Don’t you have to debrief?”
“Did that on the way back,” he turns her around in the role chair and tilts her head up to look at him, she’s so tired and he can tell. “You have a big day tomorrow.”
“Ugh,” she stands up with his help, “I did enough profiling today and now I have a whole week to get through.”
“Just to come back and work here,” he smiles, “if you still want to?”
She wraps him up in a real hug and nods against him, “it’s so fun, even with all the murder.”
“Coming home to this is really nice,” he whispers before kissing her cheek quickly, “I’m glad you like it here.”
“Well, well, well,” Derek's voice is behind them. They pull away to see him smiling, arms wide as he saunters over, “if it isn’t the new romantics.”
“Did you have any suspicions?” Y/N asks, he was a profiler after all.
“I knew something was up,” he’s honest. “I knew you guys were actually doing stuff together, I just didn’t think there was so much angst behind closed doors?”
“You have no idea,” Y/N laughs, holding Spencer closer, “it took too long.”
“I thought you were fighting about the job, cause he wasn’t really upset until you were in Penelope’s office, and I heard the rumours even before he heard what you said,” Derek smiles again, “but I also knew you loved him and he loves you.”
“Correct,” she can’t help but smile. “But we really should head home.”
“Home we go,” Spencer agrees.
She asks him to unzip her dress the second they’re back in her apartment. She drops the dress to the floor and heads to the bathroom and he’s left alone in her room. It feels different now. He remembers kissing her in the living room for the first time like it was yesterday, he remembers the first time they had sex, the first time he said I love you, and now he’s here and she’s his girlfriend and he’s going to get to make more memories with her.
He’s so embarrassed by how much he’s been crying lately, something about being in his mid-30s was making him feel like he was about to go through menopause— he has never been very openly emotional, but it’s about time he lets himself feel. He wipes the tears and turns to face the wall while he takes his suit off.
He’s been through too much, a lot of which she doesn’t know of. She has promised him forever, whether she means it or not, and he’s worried he’s going to fuck it up before he gets there.
When she comes back, she lays a towel down on her side of the bed and gets in, “guess who got her period on her first day of work?”
“No?” He gasps, playing along with her playful mood. “At least you’re not pregnant.”
“Thank god,” she sighs, “please for the love of God, don’t get me pregnant for at least 5 years? I want a decent career first so that I don't miss much on maternity leave. I really don't want to be benched for having kids.”
He cries again and she looks so concerned as she gets out of bed and wraps her arms around him, “what did I say wrong, Spencer?”
Still facing the wall, he just lets it all out, “I’m sorry.”
“For what, sweetheart?” She attempts to soothe him by running her hands down his arms, “for crying or something else?”
“Crying,” he whispers and she turns him around then.
“Hey,” she looks up at him with the softest expression he’s ever seen, “you are allowed to have emotions, you are allowed to show them and ask for help and tell me when you need something. I’m not going to think you’re too much, or I can’t handle you or think of you as a burden. I know that’s how you feel because it’s how I fell, and we don’t need to go through that together.”
“I love you,” it’s the only thing that feels right to say.
“I love you,” she repeats it, “what made you cry?”
“Can we get in bed first?”
“Yeah, finish getting ready and then come tell me,” she whispers before reaching up and pressing a kiss to his lips.
He slips away to go to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and washing his face. He’s exhausted but he doesn’t want to miss any time with her. He hurries back to her side, getting into bed in his underwear and making sure both his phones are on the night table, charged and ready if they need him.
But until then, he belonged to her.
“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep?” It’s the first thing he asks because he knows she has a big day tomorrow. “It can wait.”
“What’s that thing you say about intermittent sleep is actually better?”
“Don’t use my words against me, I do that so people don’t stop me from doing what I think I deserve,” he’s truthful. “I’m not going to ever lie or fib to you again. I hate myself, and if I don’t feel like I’ve done enough I won't sleep or eat sometimes.”
“I do that too,” she’s not proud, “are you trying to tell me you cried cause you’re hungry or tired?”
“No,” he smiles, “but thank you for asking for clarification, I like this new system.”
“Me too.”
“I cried because I really love you and I’m realizing this is all real and I’m going to get to make good memories with you, and when you said kids, even in a hypothetical sense, it made it feel real for me,” he whispers the words before pressing his lips together awkwardly.
She glows in the lap light like she did that first night, “it’s a weird concept, isn’t it? The future. At some point I’m going to have known you longer than anyone, one day we’ll have lived with each other longer than we’ve lived apart. We might be grandparents together one day? It’s all weird to think about.”
“Do you seriously want all that with me?” He’s asking because he has another question to ask right after.
“Yes, Spencer,” she laughs. “I really do.”
“Would you like to Marry me?”
“Seriously?” Her eyes widen and her jaw drops and he’s never seen her look this stunned before.
He nods, “my mom isn’t going to able to appreciate my wedding the longer I wait, and if you really mean it; I’d like to have a wedding with my mom there while she remembers me.”
“I know her birthday is coming up, but can we bring her here instead?”
“Why?”
“My parents decided to drive from Salam to here for my graduation and use the flight money on a nice Airbnb for the week. We should do it while they’re all here because I don’t know when they’d be able to come back,” she has had the same worries about her parents missing her life.
“I’ll ask my mom,” he smiles. “So we’re getting married?”
“in like a week,” she laughs, “oh fuck, how are we going to do that in a week?”
He rolls over and grabs his personal phone, he dials a number and she looks even more confused now.
“Hey Penelope, how fast can you plan a wedding?”
~
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hamliet · 4 years ago
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The Crows Summon the Sun
Or, Hamliet’s review of Shadow & Bone, which gets a 4.5/5 for enjoyment and a 3.5/5 in terms of writing.
The true heroes of this story and the saviors of the show are the Crows. However, the problem is that the show then has an uneven feel, because the strength of the Crows plotline highlights the weaknesses of the trilogy storyline. But imo, overall, the strengths overshadow (#punintended) the weaknesses. 
I’ll divide the review into the narrative and the technical (show stuff, social commentary), starting with narrative.
Narrative: The Good 
It’s What The Crows Deserve
I went into the show watching it for the Crows; however, knowing that their storyline was intended to be a prequel, I wasn’t terribly optimistic. And while it is a prequel, the characters have complete and full arcs that perfectly set them up for the further development they will have in the books (which I think should be the next season?). Instead of retreading the arcs they’d have in the books, which is how prequels usually go, they had perfect set up for these arcs. It’s really excellent. 
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Jesper, Inej, and Kaz are all allowed to be flawed, to have serious conflicts with one another, and yet to love each other. They feel like a found family in the best of ways. Kaz is the perfect selfish rogue; he’s a much more successfully executed Byronic hero than the Darkling, actually. Inej is heroic and her faith is not mocked, yet she too is flawed and her choices are not always entirely justified, but instead left to the audience to ponder (like killing the girl), which is a more mature writing choice that I appreciated. 
Jesper is charming, has a heart of gold despite being a murderer and on the surface fairly greedy, and MILO THE EMOTIONAL SUPPORT GOAT WAS THE BEST THING EVER. I also liked Jesper’s fling with Dima but I felt it could be better used rather than merely establishing his sexuality, like if Jesper and Dima had seen each other one more time or something had come of their tryst for the plot/themes/development of Jesper. 
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Nina and Matthias’s backstory being in the first season, instead of in flashbacks, really works because it automatically erases any discomfort of the implications of Nina having falsely accused Matthias that the books start with. We know Nina, we know Matthias, we know their motivations, backgrounds, and why they feel the way we do. It’ll be easy for the audience to root for them without a lot of unnecessary hate springing from misunderstanding Nina (since she’s my favorite). Matthias’s arc was also really strongly executed and satisfyingly tragic. Their plotline was a bit unfortunately disconnected from the rest of the story, but Danielle Gallagan and Callahan Skogman have absolutely sizzling chemistry so I found myself looking forward to their scenes instead of feeling distracted. Also? It’s nice seeing a woman with Nina’s body type as a romantic and powerful character. 
Hamliet Likes Malina Now
Insofar as the trilogy storyline goes, the best change the show made was Mal. He still is the same character from the books, but much more likable. The pining was... a lot (too much in episode 4, I felt) but Malina is a ship I actually enjoyed in the show while I NOTP’d it in the books. Mal has complexity and layers to his motivations (somewhat) and a likable if awkward charm. Archie Renaux was fantastic. 
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Ben Barnes is the perfect Aleksandr Kirigan, and 15 year old me, who had the biggest of big crushes on Ben Barnes (first celebrity crush over a decade ago lol), was pretty damn happy lol. He’s magnificantly acted--sympathetic and terrifying, sincerely caring and yet villainous in moments. Story-wise, I think it was smart to reveal his name earlier on than in the books, because it helps with the humanization especially in a visual medium like film. Luda was a fitting (if heartbreaking) backstory, but it is also hard for me to stomach knowing what the endgame of his character is. Like... I get the X-men fallacy thing, but I hope the show gives more kindness to his character than the books did, yet I’m afraid to hold my breath. Just saying that if you employ save the cat, if you directly say you added this part (Luda) to make the character more likable (as the director did) please do not punish the audience for feeling what you intended. 
I also liked the change that made Alina half-Shu. It adds well to her arc and fits with her character, actually giving her motivations (she kinda just wants to be ordinary in a lot of ways) a much more interesting foundation than in the books. Also it’s nice not to have another knock-off Daenerys (looking to you Celaena and book!Alina). Jessie Mei Li does a good job playing Alina’s insecurities and emotions, but... 
Narrative: The Ehhhhhhh
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Alina the Lamp
Sigh. Here we go. Alina has little consistent characterization. She’s almost always passive when we see her, yet she apparently punches an officer for calling her a name and this seems to be normal for her, but it doesn’t fit at all with what we know about her thus far. Contradictions are a part of humanity, but it’s never given any focus, so it comes across as inconsistent instead of a flaw or repression. 
I have no idea what Alina wants, beside that she wants to be with Mal, which is fine except I have no idea what the basis of their bond is. Even with like, other childhood friends to lovers like Ren/Nora in RWBY or Eren/Mikasa in SnK, there’s an inciting moment, a reason, that we learn very early on in their story to show us what draws them together. Alina and Mal just don’t have that. There’s the meadow/running away thing, but they were already so close, and why?  Why, exactly? What brought them together? The term “bullies” is thrown around but it isn’t ever explored and it needed to be this season. If I have to deal with intense pining for so many episodes at least give me a foundation for their devotion. You need to put this in the beginning, in the first season. You just do.
A “lamp” character is a common metaphor to describe a bad character: essentially, you could replace the character with a lamp and nothing changes. Considering Alina’s gift is light, it’s a funnily apt metaphor, but it really does apply. Her choices just don’t... matter. She could be a special lamp everyone is fighting over and almost nothing would change. The ironic thing is that everyone treating her like a fancy lamp is exactly the conflict, but it’s never delved into. We’re never shown that Alina is more than a lamp. She never has to struggle because her choices are made for her and information is gifted to her when she needs it. Not making choices protects Alina from consequences and the story gives her little incentive to change that; in fact, things tend to turn out better when she doesn’t make choices (magic stags will arrive). 
Like... let’s look at a few occasions when Alina almost or does make choices. For example, she chooses to (it seems) sleep with Kirigan, but then there’s a convenient knock at the door and Bhagra arrives with key information that changes Alina’s mind instantly despite the fact that Bhagra’s been pretty terrible to her. If you want to write a woman realizing she’s been duped by a cruel man, show her discovering it instead of having the man’s abusive mother tell her when she had absolutely no such suspicions beforehand. There’s no emotional weight there because Alina doesn’t struggle. 
When she is actually allowed to carry out a bad choice, the consequences are handwaved away instead of built into a challenge for her. Like... Alina got her friends killed. More than once. I’m not saying she’s entirely to blame for these but could we show her reacting to it? Feeling any sort of grief? She never mentions Raisa or Alexei after they’re gone, just Mal, and I’m... okay. They were there because of you. Aren’t you feeling anything? Aren’t you sad? The only time Alina brings up her friends’ deaths is to tell Kirigan he killed her friends when they were only there because she burned the maps. She yells at Kirigan for “never” giving her a choice, but she almost never makes any, so why would he? Alina has the gall to lecture Genya about choices, but she herself almost never has to make any. 
Which brings me to another complaint in general: Alina’s lack of care for everyone around her when they’re not Mal, even if they care for her. Marie dies because of her (absolutely not her fault of course) but as far as we know she never even learns about Marie. She certainly doesn’t ever ask about her or Nadia. Alina seems apathetic at best to people, certainly not compassionate or kind. 
The frustrating thing is that there is potential here. Like, it actually makes a lot of psychological sense for an orphan who has grown up losing to be reluctant to care for people outside of her orbit and that she would struggle to believe she can have any say in her destiny (ie make choices). It’s also interesting that a girl who feels like an outsider views others outside her. But the show never offers examines Alina’s psychology with any depth; it simply tells us she’s compassionate when she is demonstrably not, it tells us she makes decisions when it takes magical intervention to do so. It’s a missed opportunity. This does not change between episodes 1 and 8, despite the episodes’ parallel structures and scenes, which unintentionally reinforces that Alina had little real development. 
Inej and ironically Jesper and Kaz embody the concept of “mercy” far better and with far more complexity than Alina does. The Crows have reactions to the loss of people who even betray them (Arken, etc), learn, and course-correct (or don’t) when they are even loosely involved in having strangers die. They’re good characters because they change and learn and have their choices matter. When they kill we see them wrestle with it and what this means even if they are accustomed to doing so. Jesper can’t kill in front of a child. Kaz wonders what his killings do to Inej’s idea of him.
Narrative: The Mixed Bag
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Tropes, Themes, Telling vs. Showing
So the show’s themes in the Alina storyline are a mess, as they are in the trilogy too. Tropes are a very valuable way to show your audience what you’re trying to say. They’re utilized worldwide because they resonate with people and we know what to expect from them. The Crows' storyline shows us what it wants us to learn.
Preaching tells, and unfortunately, the trilogy relies on telling/preaching against fornicationBad Boys. It’s your right to write any trope or trample any trope you want--your story--but you should at least understand what/why you are doing so. The author clearly knows enough about Jungian shadows and dark/light yin/yang symbolism to use it in the story, but then just handwaves it away as “I don’t like this” but never does so in a narratively effective way: addressing the appeal in the first place. If you really wanna deconstruct a trope, you gotta empathize with the core of the reason these tropes appeal to people (it allays deep fears that we are ourselves unlovable, through loving another person despite how beastly they can be), and address this instead of ignoring it. Show us a better way through the Fold of your story. Don’t just go around it and ignore the issue.
The trilogy offers highly simplistic themes at best--bad boy bad and good boy good, which is fine-ish for kid lit but less fine for adult complexity, which the show (more so than the books) seems to try to push despite not actually having much of it.
Alina and Mal are intended to be good, we’re told they are, but I’m not sure why beyond just that we’re told so. Alina claims the stag chose her, but in the show it’s never explained why at all. Unlike with Kaz, Inej, Jesper, and hell even Matthias and Nina, we don’t see Alina or Mal’s complex choices and internal wrestling. 
Like, Inej’s half-episode where she almost killed the guy they needed was far more character exploration than Alina has the entire show, to say nothing of Inej’s later killing which not only makes her leaps and bounds more interesting, but ironically cements her as a far more compelling and yes, likable, heroine than Alina. We see Inej’s emotional and moral conflict. We can relate to her. We see Kaz struggling with his selfishness and regrets, with his understanding of himself through his interactions with and observations of Inej, Alina, the Darkling, Arken, and Jesper.
We don’t explore what makes Mal or Alina good and what makes them bad. We don’t know what Alina discovers about herself, what her power means for her. We are told they are good, we are told she knows her power is hers, but never shown what this means or what this costs them/her. Their opportunities to be good are handed to them (the stag, Bhagra) instead of given to them as a challenge in which they risk things, in which doing good or making a merciful choice costs them. Alina gets to preach about choices without ever making any; Inej risks going back to the Menagerie to trust Kaz. Her choices risk. They cost. They matter and direct her storyline and her arc, and those of the people around her.
Production Stuff:
The Good: 
The production overall is quite excellent. The costumes, pacing, acting, and cinematography (for example, one of the earliest scenes between the Darkling and Alina has Alina with her back to the light, face covered in his shadow, while the Darkling’s face is light up by her light even if he stands in the shadows) are top-notch. The soundtrack as well is incredible and emphasizes the scenes playing. The actors have great chemistry together, friend chemistry and romantic when necessary (Mal and Alina, the Darkling and Alina, Kaz and Inej, Nina and Matthias, David and Genya, etc.) All are perfectly cast. 
The Uncomfortable Technicalities Hamliet Wants to Bitch About:
The only characters from fantasy!Europe having any trace of an accent reminiscent of said fantasy country's real-world equivalent are antagonists like Druskelle (Scandinavia) and Pekka (Ireland). When the heroes mostly have British accents despite being from fantasy Russia and Holland, it is certainly A Choice to have the Irish accent emphasized. The actor is British by the way, so I presume he purposely put on an Irish accent. I'm sure no one even considered the potential implications of this but it is A Look nonetheless.
The Anachronisms Hamliet Has a Pet Peeve About: 
The worldbuilding is compelling, but the only blight on the worldbuilding within the story itself (ignoring context) was that there are some anachronisms that took me out of the story, particularly in the first episode where “would you like to share with the class” and “saved by the horn” are both used. Both are modern-day idioms in English that just don’t fit, especially the latter. The last episode uses “the friends we made along the way.” There are other modern idioms as well.
IT’S STARKOVA and Other Pet Peeves Around the Russian Portrayal 
Russian names are not hard, and Russian naming systems are very, very easy to learn. I could have waved “Starkov” not being “Starkova,” “Nazyalensky” not being “Nazyalenskaya,”  and “Safin” not being “Safina” as an American interpretation (since in America, the names do not femininize). However, “Mozorova” as a man is unfathomable and suggests to me the author just doesn’t understand how names work, which is a bit... uh okay considering a simple google search gets you to understand Russian names. They aren’t hard. I cannot understand why the show did not fix this. It is so simple to fix and would be a major way to help the story’s overall... caricature of Russia. 
Speaking of that... Ravka is supposedly Russian-based, but it is more accurately based on the stereotypes of what Americans think of Russia. Amerussia? Russica? Not great. 
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The royals are exactly what Americans think of the Romanovs, right down to the “greasy” “spiritual advisor” who is clearly Rasputin and which ignores the Romanov history, very real tragedy, and the reason Rasputin was present in the court. The religion with all its saints is a vapid reflection of Russian Orthodoxy. The military portrayal with its lotteries and brutality and war is how the US views the Russian military. The emphasis on orphans, constant starvation, classification, and children being ripped from their homes to serve the government is a classic US understanding of USSR communism right down to the USSR having weapons of destruction the rest of the world fears (Grisha). Not trying to defend the Soviet Union here at all, but it is simplistic and reductive and probably done unconsciously but still ehhhh. 
However, I’m not Russian. I just studied Russian literature. I’ve seen very little by way of discussion of this topic online, but what I do see from Russian people has been mixed--some mind, some don’t. The reality is that I actually don’t really mind this because it’s fantasy, though I see why some do. I'm not like CANCEL THIS. So why am I talking about this beyond just having a pet peeve?
Well, because it is a valid critique, and because it doesn’t occur in a vacuum. The Grishaverse is heralded as an almost paragon for woke Young Adult literature, which underlines itself what so frustrates me about how literary circles discuss issues of diversity and culture. Such praise, while ignoring its quasi-caricature of Russia, reflects a very ethnocentric (specifically American) understanding of culture, appropriation, and representation. All stories are products of their culture to various extents, but it bothers me on principle what the lit community reacts (and overreacts sometimes?) to and what people give a pass to. The answer to what the community reacts to and what it gives a pass always pivots on how palatable the appropriation is to American understandings and sensibilities. There’s nuance here as well, though. 
I'm not cancelling the story or thinking it should be harshly attacked for this, but it is something that can be discussed and imo should be far more often--but with the nuance it begs, instead of black/white. But that’s a tall ask. 
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tsukikento · 3 years ago
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Empathetic Chapter 17
Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader
Summary: After your mom, the number 1 hero in America, gets offered a teaching position at U.A., you two pack up your things and head to Musutafu, Japan to start a new life. Pressure for you in America was at an all-time high, and now you’re in Japan, where almost no one knows you, or your family’s past.
This tale starts on your first day of class where your new teacher decides the best way for you to fit in is to fight against the strongest person in your class: Bakugou Katsuki.
Warnings/Genre: This piece will feature some angst and reference to an abusive parent, if you are ever worried about other tw’s feel free to send me an ask and I will let you know. There will also be fluff, slight angst, pining, and slowburn.
A/N: Had to write this chapter three times because somehow everything kept getting deleted!! I’m sorry for my inconsistent posting. Please leave comments, reblog, or send me asks if you like! They always keep me motived :)
(masterlist)
When you came back out for dinner, Bakugou was already sitting at the head of the table, eating away, and chatting away with Kirishima and Sero. To his left was an empty seat, but a plate filled with food.
I wonder if Bakugou made that or if someone nicer prepared it, you wonder as you and Ashido made your way to the table. If Bakugou made it, then damn. However, you wouldn’t be surprised if Kirishima made it or Kaminari who was on dish cleaning duty and needed to put away the leftovers. Regardless of who did it, they still sat you down next to Bakugou in your usual seat.
Don’t read into that, you told yourself as your sat down at the table. Instead, you focused on the delicious food in front of you that you immediately began to chow down on. You found yourself, much like Bakugou, simply eating away while Ashido, Kirishima, and Sero kept the conversation going. Both of you were much too hungry to stop and add your own commentary to the conversation.
Bakugou finished before you and chugged down his water before taking both yours and his glass to the kitchen to fill them back up. Gratefully, you mumbled out a “Thank you” before you continued to eat. Play it cool, he’s just being polite, you told yourself and Ashido proceeded to elbow you and wink.
You rolled your eyes at the pink girl and focused back on what was left on your plate.
Conversation flowed easily until Bakugou came back. The blond placed the cups onto the table before holding up his arms and stretching in a way that clearly showed his stomach. At this point, each of you were still in casual athletic clothes and his simple t-shirt lifted just enough to show his stomach.
It was an action you should be used the at this point. The blond often stretched without a care or used his quirk in ways that ruined clothing. And yet, you still found your face heating up and your eyes glued to the sight.
When he finally sat back down, he leaned in close to you. “I’m ready to go whenever,” He explained before leaning back into his chair and sipping on his water.
“Go where?” Sero, who was to Bakugou’s immediate right, questioned.
You looked to Bakugou, expecting him to reply. Not only were you hesitant to explain the situation and possibly misunderstand what Bakugou was thinking, but the blond typically made habit of answering anyways.
“The gym for yoga and cardio,” Bakugou explained, just like you expected. Luckily, it wasn’t any different than what you thought.
“Really?” Kirishima questioned, his eyes lighting up. “That sounds so manly!” He turned to look at Ashido, “Do you want to go do yoga and cardio too?”
“Um,” Ashido immediately turned to you, concerned that she and Kirishima would be intervening on your alone time with Bakugou.
Part of you wanted to welcome the company, ultimately nervous about having to hold up a conversation when neither you nor Bakugou were all too talkative. However, you spent hours alone with Bakugou each week and it wasn’t awkward then so why would it be different?
Bakugou also hates how couple-y they are so he may be more inclined to talk to me and spend time with me if they are there doing PDA, you thought before subtly nodding to Ashido.
“I’d love to go if Bakugou and Y/L/N don’t mind,” Ashido finally spoke after a few moments.
“I don’t care,” Bakugou measly replied.
“What about you, Sero?” Kirishima questioned, “Do you want to go too?”
“No way,” The black-haired boy replied, leaning back in his chair. “I had interning today and had to chase a villain down seven blocks, ugh!”
“Weren’t you using your tape though?” Ashido shot back curiously.
“So? It still drains me and my poor arms. I could not do yoga like this.” Sero flailed his arms around before letting them fall to his sides, effectively showing how absolutely dead they were. “I’ll just stay here with Kaminari and make him watch the new season of Galactic Guard again or whatever.”
“Your loss,” Kirishima jokes before chuckling lightly. “I’m going to go get changed, be down soon.”
Ashido followed him with the same explanation.
Awkwardly, you looked at Sero, expecting him to say something. You and Bakugou were already changed and had your waters with you, there was no reason for you to go upstairs. Unfortunately, due to the silence and the awkward atmosphere of a nervous you and an ever-rigid Bakugou, the black-haired boy immediately slid out of his seat, claiming to need water. However, you watched as he dropped his empty glass on the counter and simply talked to Kaminari.
You rolled your eyes and took a sip of your water, wishing there was more to do. Thinking on your feet, you stood up abruptly. “I’ll clear the dishes,” You said before stacking the plates and silverware. “Do you want your water anymore?”
Bakugou shook his head so you proceeded to grab his water, place it into your cup, and make your way to the kitchen slowly.
Kaminari and Sero greeted you happily and Kaminari immediately took your dishes.
Their rather boring conversation did not leave room for you to interject, so you simply made your way back to the dining table. Sighing, you grabbed your half-full water and reached for Bakugou’s as well. The blond watched you wordlessly.
You wondered if his lack of comment was a bad thing or if it showed comfortability and a willingness to let you touch his belongings.
As you debated the notion, you silently, almost like you were on autopilot, filled up the waters, and went back to the table. With nothing left to do, you sat back down into your seat and awaited the arrival of Kirishima and Ashido
“Thank you,” Bakugou said as you sat down with the two glasses of water.
“No problem” You replied. Despite this comment being typical for literally anyone to say, it still felt nice for him to say thank you. Maybe it was because he rarely used his manners.
Bakugou grabbed his water from the table and put it back into his bag. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence as you waited for Ashido and Kirishima. The only noise was the people talking in the kitchen and the small group watching television in the living room.
A few minutes passed by before the couple finally emerged from the elevator and greeted you both with wide smiles. Kirishima had on black basketball shorts with a red stripe down the side as well as a red hoodie. Ashido adorned a matching two-piece set of leggings and a conservative sports bra that was cheetah print. She also had on a black zip-up jacket that was currently wrapped around her waist.
You and Bakugou quickly got up from your seats, grabbed your belongings, and slowly made your way to the door. Ashido was by your side while Kirishima ran the kitchen to fill up his and Ashido’s waters. The pink girl moved from being attached to Kirishima’s side and was now attached to yours.
Giggling, she whispered in your ear, “Yet another double date!”
Sheepishly you rolled your eyes and dismissed the thought. “Don’t count your chickens before they hatch.”
“What?” Ashido questioned, moving away from you to give you a confused look.
“What do you mean ‘what’?” You shot back.
“I mean,” She began, emphasizing her words, “What does that even mean?”
“What does what mean?” You replied, absolutely clueless to the confusion.
“She’s asking what ‘don’t count your chickens before they hatch’ means,” Bakugou butted in as he stood opposite you by the front door. “Personally, I think it’s rather obvious.”
“Oh, shut it, Bakugou!” Ashido exclaimed, giving the blond a dirty look.
Laughing, you explained, “It’s just an American saying.” You debated how exactly to explain it before once again continuing, “Just because you have, say, 10 chicken eggs, 2 could break before they hatch and 3 more could be simply eggs, no baby in them. So, they saying means that you shouldn’t expect something until it happens. You can’t expect to have 10 chickens just because you have 10 eggs.”
Ashido harrumphed, clearing having trouble understanding. “Sounds dumb.” Something you also expected her to say considering she was the one ‘counting her chickens before they hatched’.
You shrugged, “It’s hard to understand sayings from other countries if you didn’t grow up around them. I’m sure some common Japanese sayings don’t make sense to me.”
At this point, Kirishima joined back in and made quick work of putting on his tennis shoes.
“My mom used to always say ‘even monkeys fall out of trees’ when I made mistakes,” Ashido explained, testing you to see if you would understand a common Japanese phrase.
“Everyone makes mistakes,” You replied after a few seconds to think it over.
“Dang!” Ashido replied as the four of you made your way out of the dorm and to the gym.
“What about this one,” Bakugou interjected. “My dad would say this all the time, ‘the stake that sticks up gets hammered down.’”
Oh, this one is definitely more complicated.
You tried working through the saying out in your brain, sure it had someone to do with being seen in society. “Um,” You began, “The person who stands out will…” You paused, unsure how to finish. Sighing, you shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t know.”
“Ha Ha!” Ashido shouted in joy. “It means the person who stands out is often subject to criticism.”
You nodded your head in understanding as she explained.
“How were you so good at those?” Kirishima asked.
“Well, word association is taught in elementary schools,” You explained, reminiscing on the problems you solved in second grade. “For example, we would get something like “cow is to barn as man is to ‘blank’ and we would have to fill it in.”
Ashido and Kirishima proceeded to exclaim “house!” while Bakugou simply nodded, actions that represented each of them rather well.
“Nice!” You laughed, high-fiving the two who guessed.
You rounded the corner at this point, entering one of the school buildings with multiple classrooms. You followed the group as they made their way upstairs and weaved through hallways. Fairly naturally, the conversation died down as the couple of Ashido and Kirishima clung to each other and dawdled behind.
Aggravated, Bakugou led your group, clearly annoyed with how slow they were. Honestly, you were pretty sure Ashido planned this so you could have alone time with the blond.
Trying to utilize this opportunity, you kept stride with the blond. “Pretty annoying, huh?” You asked, gesturing to the couple and silently apologizing for throwing them under the bus and using them as a conversation starter.
“Aren’t they always?” Bakugou replied, looking to the couple before rolling his eyes and groaning.
“Sometimes they are cute,” You shrugged, flashing a smile to the blond. “At least they’re happy, you know?” You asked, attempting to reason with them.
Bakugou simply “tsked” in reply. “Doesn’t mean they aren’t making me nauseous.”
“Very true,” You responded, unable to stop yourself from chuckling loudly. “Especially when they talk in baby voices and make little smooching noises!” You altered your voice slightly to mimic Ashido’s baby voice that you hear her only use with Kirishima.
Bakugou cackled loudly at the comment, clearly amused by your impersonation. “Or when they go off to each lunch by themselves, cuddling under a tree, and then coming back like giddy teenagers,” He added.
“Oh, yeah!” You animatedly exclaimed, “How could I forget? Kirishima ends up staring out the window all of class!”
As your laughter died down, the two of you arrived at the double doors that led to the small gym. Luckily, no one else was inside due to how late it was. In fact, you four might be here past curfew. Despite this, you entered into the gym which had a few different weight machines and treadmills as well as a room to the left that was dim and specifically designed for yoga.
You knew this was the gym that Ashido frequently used late at night but weren’t familiar with the layout. Slowly, you put down your belongings, chugged down a few gulps of your water and made your way into the yoga room. The room had too large baskets on wheels that came up to about your waist. Inside, were blue and white yoga mats with the school’s logo on it. It was for student use and cleaned every week, a small perk for going to such a prestigious hero school. By the time you grabbed a mat, you heard the large metal and glass doors once again opening. Waiting for the couple, you rolled out your mat and brought your water to your side.
Although you did yoga frequently and could easily start your own routine, you figured the four of you would want to do a routine together. Once inside, Kirishima and Ashido quickly came into the yoga room and set up mats.
“I’ll hook up my phone to the projector so we can play a video,” Ashido explained as she plugged her phone into a wire that connected to the projector.
You watched the pink girl search up a yoga routine that was primarily focused on stretching the body pre-workout. The video was about half an hour-long, so you simply prepared yourself by sitting on your knees and waiting for the introduction to finish.
Yoga went by rather quickly, which each of you silently following the video. You were all in your own worlds, thinking about your own problems or simply letting your mind go black as you followed the routine. You could tell it was something your mind and body was craving after a long day of theorizing and sitting at the desk.
Once the routine finally ended, you let out a big breath and stretched your body one final time before grabbing your water bottle to drink from. “Ah, that was so good!” You sighed, completely satisfied.
Kirishima and Ashido hummed in agreement as they rolled up their mats.
“And now it’s time to put that stretching to good use,” Bakugou added, as he passed by you with his own rolled mat. He grabbed yours, which you just finished rolling, and went to put them away. Once done, he made his way back to you and held out his hand to help you up. “Shall we go run?” He asked while he effortlessly pulled you up.
“We shall,” You replied, a wide smile on your face.
Bakugou had never, not even when he was kicking your ass in training, helped your up or touched your hand. Immediately, you felt heat spreading up your face and your heart beating faster.
Ashido, who was putting her own yoga mat into her bag eyed you suspiciously. Subtly, you gave her a surprised look and shrugged your shoulders. Bakugou inevitably let go of your hand after you were standing up straight. He was surprisingly warm and you held quickly went cold without his touching.
In an attempt to play everything off cool, you simply followed behind him, grabbing your bag and moving to the treadmill next to his. You placed your belongings down, took one last gulp of water, and got onto your treadmill.
Bakugou, who had already started, was going at a slow pace and you decided to follow in line with him. The slow speed was an ideal way to warm up your body and prepare you for a faster pace.
You didn’t have to wait long, however, because Bakugou soon sped up his treadmill by two. He gave you’re a clear look and you didn’t even have to take out your earbuds to know he was subtly saying there is no way in hell you will run faster than me.
After a few more strides, you also increased your speed, clicking three times to be running one faster than him.
Almost immediately, Bakugou gave you another look and increased his speed. This game of tug-of-war continued for a few minutes, each of you slowly increasing your speed in order to one-up the other. It was fun when you started slow, and you even found yourself smiling when you were running at a speed just below a sprint. However, you were now sprinting at a breakneck pace and craving this game to stop.
You once again, and quite stubbornly, pressed the up arrow to increase your speed.
Bakugou attempted to groan under his breath, but he was going too fast to have control over his voice and you clearly heard the roan of indignation. The blond pressed his finger onto the up arrow and increased his speed just as he had done before. This time, however, he notably did not go past your speed.
The both of you were now running at the same speed, and although you were tempted to go up at least one more to irk Bakugou, you knew it was best not to. It was all down to endurance now.
You focused your attention on running, moving your arms to help your speed, and focusing on your breathing to make sure you were taking in big and consistent breaths.
“Woah, Bakugou and Y/N-chan!” Kirishima’s voice rang through your ears. Despite only being two treadmills over and a total of 12 feet, you could barely hear him. “So manly!” If you were looking at him, you would see him send a cheeky smile to Ashido before increasing his own speed.
However, you were all too involved in your own competition to worry about him.
You felt your legs burn and crave for a break. You felt so hot that you were sure you were steaming. In fact, you saw steam.
Steam? You looked to your left from where it was coming and saw steam emitting from Bakugou’s palms. You could have gasped in surprise if you weren’t so already short on breath. The next thing to smelled was an intense caramel. Or is it burning sugar? You questioned as you realized it was coming from the blond next to you.
It smells so sweet, you thought, clearly distracted. It made you think of caramel apples at amusement parks, chewing on the delectable treat as you walked around, surrounded by vibrant lights.
You inhaled deeply, trying to take it all in. Suddenly, you tripped. The floor fell out from under you, and you did not have enough speed or traction to keep up. Quickly, you clutched onto the railings and got back up to speed. The difficult action, which would surely leave bruises on your arms, lasted only a few seconds. Although Bakugou noticed, he didn’t say anything, so you simply kept up with running.
However, now your body ached even more. All you wanted to do was stop and you couldn’t drag your brain away from the idea. You felt your limbs begging to slow down and you could no longer deny the request. Reluctantly, you slowed down the treadmill with a sigh. Bakugou immediately noticed the action and shot his arms up with a small “woop!” in excitement.
At least seeing him so excited was worth it, you thought as you finally stopped the treadmill.
With exhaustion running through your veins, you got off the treadmill and made a beeline to your water. Your legs gave out and you sat against the wall, arching your back to give your lungs room. You chugged a few gulps of the cool beverage before you brought your hands above your head. It was the best way to get air into your lungs and control your breathing again.
Bakugou quickly joined you, copying your actions but while standing up.
“Good job, guys!” Ashido exclaimed, giving you both a thumbs up as she jogged at a much more reasonable pace.
You returned the gesture before grabbing your water again. Slumped up against the wall, you closed your eyes. Mentally, you made a note to not go out running tomorrow.
While you rested, you heard Ashido and Kirishima turn off their treadmills and join you against the wall. They chatted amongst themselves while Bakugou sat next to you.
Immediately, the caramel smell emitting off him wafted into your noise and filled your senses with euphoria and anxiety. He smelled so good, and yet you were certain he was much closer to you now. You could practically feel his body heat against your left arm.
The chatter from Ashido and Kirishima provided white noise, while Bakugou’s sweet aroma and warm body provided the ultimate guide to sleep. Your tired body craved it and you slowly felt yourself falling deeper and deeper.
Too tired to notice, you slowly leaned to the left, your shoulder eventually touching Bakugou’s. It was slight, a small brush of skin, but the blond immediately noticed the action, who stared at your sleeping body which found comfort in the purchase of his body.
You weren’t sure how much time passed when you were woken back up. In fact, you didn’t realize you fell asleep until you were waking up and opening your eyes to the sight of Bakugou’s own crimson orbs.
Quickly, you noticed the feeling of a warm arm against yours and moved abruptly away.
You could feel the heat spread from your neck to your cheeks and ears. If you weren’t in such shock, you would have also been certain that Bakugou’s own cheeks blushed pink. You shook your head in confusion, pushing away the ridiculous thoughts that came to mind.
“S-sorry!” You stuttered out, your voice barely emitting a sound.
“It’s fine,” Bakugou confidently laughed, brushing off the topic. “I just thought you would want to head back soon since you are falling asleep.”
“Uh, yeah,” You mumbled, “Thanks.” Looking away, you set your eyes on all your belongings and began picking them up. Sometimes it was difficult to look him in the eyes. Despite how warm and entrancing they were, they made you feel hot all over and spread nerves all throughout your body. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you stood all the way up and awaited Bakugou.
It only took a moment for the blond to stand upright after you. Gingerly smiling, you turned and made your way to the door.
“You guys coming?” Bakugou asked, walking backward so he could face the couple.
“Later,” Ashido mumbled, waving him away as she continued to smile at her boyfriend.
Bakugou hummed in acknowledgment and turned to you, a signal to open the door into the empty hallway.
“Today was fun,” You remarked, sparing a glance at the blond as the metal door eased closed. “Although I am sure tomorrow will be tough.” You paused, thinking over your schedule, “At least I only have class tomorrow.”
Although you were too nervous to look long, you saw the blond smile shyly and nod his head. “Yeah, I’m just glad I am done with the assignment due in English tomorrow.”
“Ah,” You replied, “How I wish I only had English assignments instead of extra Japanese assignments.”
“You’ll need to learn if you plan to stay here,” Bakugou remarked.
You scoffed, “I would argue that my Japanese was quite good already.” Rolling your eyes, you spared a teasing smile to him.
“What about when you are given a paper report and expected to read it all in minutes? Or when you have to write a report after a mission?” Bakugou shot back.
You groaned loudly, simply imagining how torturous a kanji-filled report that you would need to run through quickly. “Maybe you’ll be nice enough to write my reports for me?” You joked, opening your eyes and pouting in an attempt to look cute.
Bakugou blew air out his nose in a short laugh. “Bold of you to assume that I would even hire you to work at my agency.”
“Rude,” You replied, knowing full well that this was all a joke. “I think I would be a good hire, I could keep you calm during idiotic interviews or meetings too.” You looked into his eyes, “So, you want to start your own agency?”
“Need to if I’m going to be number one,” Bakugou curtly answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Well,” You began, “If I’m still in the area, and you are in desperate need of a hire, I would be happy to help.”
“Thanks.”
A small laugh and a brief look had your insides twisting. You once again felt hot. However, you were now, luckily, in the cool air of the night. You calmed yourself as the two of you approached the dorms.
Bakugou took a few quick steps to get ahead of you to reach the door. He moved to the side so you could enter in first and you smiled and nodded politely.
However, when you entered the dorm, your mood quickly changed. Practically every student was in the living room, some standing, some sitting. Most notably, Aizawa-sensei stood in the dining room, leaned up against the large wooden table, and clearly lost in his thoughts. Multiple sets of eyes turned to look at you. Your anxieties pooled in your stomach as you looked at your teacher.
Is it that bad that we are past curfew?
You felt Bakugou’s body pressed close up against yours. You were too scared to move, so the blond had to squeeze in. He was about to jokingly push you out of the way until he noticed the concerning scene in front of him.
You had no time to think about how comforting the action was, especially as he placed your hands onto your shoulders. He squeezed the slightly, but you were unsure if it was an action that was supposed to make you feel better or to make your move. You stumbled forward, but the blond hardly moved.
Aizawa cleared his throat and moved from his perch at the table. Silently, he approached you. “Let’s talk outside,” He whispered so only Bakugou, and you could hear. “Just you,” He elaborated, looking into your eyes.
You gulped and let Bakugou push you away so Aizawa could reach the door and lead the way out. You only snapped back to reality when your shoulders were suddenly cold at the lost touch.
“Okay,” You mumbled, stumbling to follow after your teacher. Maybe he was going to lecture us separately? You wondered, clinging to the hope that this was a simple scolding and not a disastrous event.
It must be my mom, what else would it be?
“Is my mom okay?” You immediately questioned when the door Bakugou closed was finally shut.
“Yes,” He abruptly replied, “Let’s talk this way.” He led you around the building to where there were multiple benches.
“My siblings?”
“Sit,” He spoke and motioned at a long bench.
You sat quickly, hoping it would make the news come quicker as well.
“There is no easy way to say this,” He began, “Please just listen.” Aizawa rubbed his eyes, clearly drained. “There was a prison escape at the North-Western prison. A total of 117 inmates escaped and are being rounded up. Your father is one of them.”
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inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years ago
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Hi Steph! reading your blog has become a sort of guilty pleasure for me. Thanks for everything, it’s so clear that you put a lot of time and energy into your content. I was wondering if you have any johnlock fics that feature a particularly well-written or memorable original character? I always love to see how authors integrate their own character creations into johnlock stories!
Hey Nonny!
Ahhhh!! This is a GREAT request, because I like well-written OC’s in fics, so yeah, this is a great list to make. Here’s what I recall from my bookmarks. Please add your own faves, friends!
MEMORABLE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS
Ex by Itsallfine (T, 1,248 w., 1 Ch. || Angsty Fluff, Love Confessions, Coming Out, Exes, First Kiss, Fake Relationship, Getting Outed) – One night, in the midst of their post-case high and on the cusp of something more, John and Sherlock run into John’s ex. His ex-boyfriend.
The Prize We Sought Is Won by deathfrisbees (E, 4,610 w., 1 Ch. || First Time, Mild D/S, Oral, Military Kink, Bottomlock) – Sherlock's in love, or in lust, or both--unfortunately, the object of his affections is not only his completely oblivious flatmate, but said flatmate would probably run screaming into the hills should he find out. John's been invited to a wedding--unfortunately, the groom used to serve under him back in Afghanistan, and requests that John wear a uniform he's honestly not sure he fits into. Unfortunately for both flatmates, Sherlock's got a military kink the size of Kandahar and John wants to know if he actually can fit into this uniform or if his eyes are deceiving him. It goes from there.
Time on my hands by Mildredandbobbin (M, 7,179 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-S3, One Night Stands, Mutual Pining, Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Sexual Exploration / Discovery, Desperation, Body Worship) – Virginity’s a construct, a concept—what does losing one’s virginity entail for a gay man anyway? Sherlock wants to fill that particular gap in his knowledge but John won’t, can’t, never will assist and there’s only so much desperately unspoken pining even Sherlock can take.
High and Tight, Soft and Loose by cwb (E, 7,429 w., 1 Ch. || Jealous John, Miscommunications / Misunderstandings, First Kiss / Time, BAMF John, Insecure Sherlock, Clueless Sherlock, POV John, Embarrassed John, Adorable Sherlock, Junk Size, UST / RST) – John pressed the knuckle of his index finger against his mouth and sighed. “So, you're coiled like a spring and ready to be ... sprung?” “If you want to be pedestrian about it, yes.” “Like I said, you should do something about that.” “And like I said, pedestrian. What would you have me do? Take up jogging? Yoga? Oh! Unless you mean –” “I don't mean anything. Let’s drop it.”
Matters of National Security by mistyzeo (E, 8,465 w., 1 Ch. || BAMF John, Doctor John, Jealous Sherlock, Dating, Bisexuality, Arguing, Stupidity, Teasing, First Kiss/Time, Hand Jobs, Frottage, RST, Idiots in Love) – John starts dating a male client of Sherlock's, and Sherlock can't figure out why he's so incensed about it.
High Tide by stardust_made (T, 8,540 w., 1 Ch. || Jealousy, Angst, First Kiss) – A little favour Sherlock stupidly agrees to do for Mycroft leads to John meeting a handsome, affluent man, who is going out of his way to woo him. Sherlock struggles with the situation and with his own reactions to it. Part 1 of The High Tide Series
Iris by slashscribe (E, 11,948 w., 1 Ch. || Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Post-S3) – Sherlock does his best to make John happy when John comes back to 221B with his new baby after the events of Season 3, but Sherlock has a track record of getting things wrong in this area. This story is an exploration of their gradual shift from friends to lovers, told from Sherlock's perspective, full of a lot of pining and lack of emotional awareness.
A Brand of Gold by aquabelacqua (M, 12,757 w., 1 Ch. || Mutual Pining, POV John, Phone Sex, Texting, Masturbation, Long Distance, Drunk Texting) – What am I doing? he wondered. The answer came back at once: Flirting. He let the vital, missing piece snap into place as surely and as cleanly as if it had always been there. He was flirting with Sherlock Holmes.
Twelfth Night by yourdykeinshiningarmor (E, 15,139 w., 5 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Christmas, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Angst & Fluff, BJ’s, Anal) – John is invited to his aunt's Twelfth Night ball. Sherlock offers to attend with him as a friendly face among strangers, but John's family force him to address his true feelings for Sherlock.
Vessel by Rhuia (E, 15,695 w., 1 Ch. || Cancer, Medfic) – That was the surprising bit – the way his doctor said it, eyes shining with sympathy but breathing it out, shifting it off her shoulders and thrusting it onto his, making him take it like an unwanted gift.
A Life Well-Lived by Kate_Lear (E, 20,121 w., 1 Ch. || Original Male Character, Sherlock Woos John, Jealous Sherlock, Reluctant Bi-John, Past Abuse, Insecure John, Reassuring / Caring Sherlock, Protective Sherlock, Understanding Sherlock) – John got scared off men by an abusive past relationship. Sherlock has to try and woo him while not scaring him off with protective possessive rage.
Winter's Delights by Kate_Lear (E, 21,173 w., 1 Ch. || Holmes Family, Christmas, Fake Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Bed Sharing, Domestics) – Sherlock takes John home for Christmas to meet the extended Holmes family. Part 1 of Winter's Delights
A Shipless Ocean by myswordfishmind (M, 22,135 w., 4 Ch. || Post-TRF, John has a Kid, Angst, Reunion, Falling in Love, Open Ending) – Ten years after the fall Sherlock goes back to London to find that John no longer lives there. Instead, he resides in a seaside town, a widower, and the father of a seven year old son. Now, Sherlock must struggle with the fact that there may no longer be a place for him in this new world.
Maintaining A Personal Life by Gingerhermit (E, 24,284 w., 6 Ch. || Alternating POV’s, Bisexuality, BAMF!John, Jealous Sherlock, Romance / Drama, Sort-of Case Fic, Peril & Angst, Love Confessions, Toplock, Soft Idiots in Love, Post S3) – Sherlock and John discover some interesting revelations about each other’s sexuality, which lead them both to question the assumptions they've made about one another for years. In the midst of their mutual discoveries, a dangerous psychopath looms on the side-lines who threatens to destroy their new beginning.
26 Pieces by Lanning (E, 28,236 w., 1 Ch. || H/C, Torture, First Time, Happy Ending, Schmoop, Past Abuse) – Mycroft gives Sherlock the apparently simple task of solving a puzzle box containing a stolen microchip. It isn't simple.
Where Else Would I Be? by cwb (E, 34,910 w., 10 Ch. || Retirementlock, Domestic Fluff, Falling in Love, Parentlock, Fluff and Smut, Reminiscing) – John and Sherlock's five-year-old granddaughter spends the weekend with them in Sussex. Sherlock happily indulges her whims, and John takes care of them while quietly revisiting the past thirty years of their lives together.
Classified(s) by blueink3 (E, 36,153 w., 4 Ch. || Wedding Date AU || Fake Relationship, Jealous, PIning, H/C, Idiots in Love, Happy Ending, Mary is not Nice, Escort Service) – Clara's American father is the ambassador to some such territory that Great Britain probably used to own, but she (and Harry’s undying love for her) is the reason John is getting on a flight at 12:30pm, flying across the second largest ocean in the world, and pretending to be in a perfectly happy, healthy relationship with an undoubtedly perfectly coiffed stranger. See, Clara is not only American (and wealthy to boot), she's also best friends with John’s ex-fiancée. Whom she's placed in the wedding party. As Maid of Honor. And John just happens to be Best Man. Bloody brilliant.
Nothing to Make a Song About by emmagrant01 (E, 36,833 w., 10 Ch. || Post-TRF, First Time, Reunion, Jealous John, Pining Sherlock, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending, Sherlock Has a Boyfriend) – When Sherlock returned from his faked death, John could not forgive him for the deception and broke off their friendship. Ten years later, John returns to London in search of yet another new beginning. Sherlock, not surprisingly, is waiting.
Set in Stone by SilentAuror (E, 39,309 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, Wedding, Therapy, Fluff and Angst) – Sherlock and John are back from Ravine Valley and planning their wedding. However, as they move past the trial of the human traffickers, Sherlock can't help but wonder if he's imagining that John is becoming a little distant. Surely he isn't getting cold feet about the wedding... Part 2 of The Ravine Valley series
Only To Be With You by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (M, 40,768 w., 4 Ch. || Black Mirror / Future AU || Character Death, Future Technology, Sickness/Cancer/Illness, Heavy Angst with Happy Ending, First Person POV John, Pining John, Heart-Wrenching Angst, Promise of Forever) – I tell myself that next time I’ll come near this same place again. Wait around for the mysterious stranger in his coat to dash past me, hot on the heels of a new criminal in black. I think this all the way back to my Exit, planning where I’ll wait and what I’ll say when I see him. Scheming on how to get his name. It’s only once I reach the Exit Point door that I realize two hours and forty-five minutes have passed, and I realize that this won’t be the last time I Visit. It won’t be the last time at all.
Corpus Hominis by mycapeisplaid (E, 47,709 w., 12 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Case Fic, Fluff, Romance, Frottage, Angst, Anal, Blow Jobs, Rimming, Spas / Massages, Shampoo, Jealousy, Fake Relationship) - John knows the human body intimately. He’s had plenty of opportunity for study as a doctor, soldier, and lover. There’s one particular body, however, he knows very little about. When Sherlock launches himself head-first into a new obsession and they get sent on a case in an unlikely location, the pair discovers each other’s bodies with confusing yet delightful (and sometimes hilarious) results.
The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by SilentAuror (E, 50,635 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4/S4 Divergence, Case Fic, For a Case / Reverse Fake-Relationship, Conferences, Marriage Equality, Travelling / New York, Pride, Homophobia, Bottomlock, Marriage Proposal, John POV, Sexuality, Love Confessions, Emotional Love Making, Public Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Passionate Kissing, Needy/Clingy Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Touching / Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Little Spoon Sherlock, Intense Orgasms) – John and Sherlock go to New York to attend a conference run by the National Defence of Traditional Marriage Coalition in order to investigate the potential bombing of the annual Manhattan Pride parade. As the conference unfolds, John finds himself repulsed by the toxic ideology being presented, which becomes relevent to his own unacknowledged issues and his friendship with Sherlock...
Coventry by standbygo (E, 52,020 w., 26 Ch. || Dollhouse AU || Case Fic, Slow Burn, Sci-Fi / Fantasy, First Kiss / Time, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, BAMF John, Falling in Love) – “Let me get this straight,” John said, wondering when his life had become a science fiction film. “Some guy orders up a personality, a person, to his specifications, and they program this into a real live person, who has consented to do this, and she goes to this person and acts as his wife, or lawyer, or Royal Marine, or Navy Seal or what have you, and she has all the skills, all the knowledge, everything? Then you say the magic words, and she follows you back to The House, and they erase it all until her next appointment?”
Albion and the Woodsman by Glenmore (NR [E], 54,437 w., 50 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post S3, Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Angst, Family, Drug Use, Depression, Sherlock POV, Light Humour, Reconnecting, Declarations of Love) – Sherlock and John are devastated after Mary Morstan makes her final moves. Sherlock relapses at the crack house, John walks around the world … and a lot happens in between. Parentlock, in the good way.
Wars We Fought, Things We're Not by blueink3 (M, 55,204 w., 10 Ch. || Post S3 / Post TAB, Parentlock, Fluff & Angst, Kidnapping, Whump, Post-TAB, UST/URT, 3G, Mild Peril, Slow Burn, Couple for a Case, Protective Mycroft, Infant Death Pre-Story, Friends to Lovers) –  Five months after John's world has fallen apart, Mycroft sends the consulting detective and his doctor on a case that neither is prepared for.
Isosceles by SilentAuror (E, 56,609 w., 7 Ch. || Post-S4, POV John, Original Male Character / Sherlock Dates Another Man, Love Triangle, Jealous John, Virgin Sherlock, Sexual Coaching, Angst, Romance, Domesticity, Unrequited Feelings, Miscommunication, First Kiss/Time, For a Case, Friends With Benefits, Bottomlock, Love Confessions, Spooning) – After solving a case for a major celebrity, Sherlock gets himself asked out. When John asks, he discovers that Sherlock has no intention of going, at least not until John agrees to coach him through whatever he might need to know for his date...
The Great Sex Olympics of 221B by XistentialAngst (E, 58,611 w., 10 Ch. || First Time/Kiss, Experiments / Sexual Experimentations, Multi Pairings, Voyeurism) – John Watson thinks Sherlock Holmes should admit that he, Watson, is more of an expert on sex than Sherlock is. But Sherlock refuses to concede the point. He comes up with an experiment plan that will resolve the issue. The results will determine who wins the prize. But sometimes even the best thought-out scientific study has unexpected consequences.
Bridging the Ravine by SilentAuror (E, 58,887 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Couple For a Case, Bed-Sharing, First Times, Confessions, Awkwardness, Sex Trafficking, Massages, Wet T-Shirt Contest, Group Therapy, Past Loss of Child) – Sherlock and John go undercover at Ravine Valley, a therapy centre for same-sex male couples in an investigation into a possible human trafficking ring. As they pose as a couple and fake their way through the therapy sessions for the sake of the case, it quickly becomes difficult to avoid discussing their very real issues. Set roughly six nine months after series 4.
The Bells of King's College by SilentAuror (E, 64,019 w., 5 Ch. || Post-S4, Missed Opportunities, Angst with Happy Ending, Fake Relationship, Case Fic, John POV, Jealous John, John in Denial, Travelling / Holidays, Virgin Sherlock, Wedding Proposals) – It's only been two weeks since Eurus Holmes disrupted their lives when Mycroft sends John and Sherlock to Cambridge to pose as an engaged couple at a wedding show in the hopes of solving six unsolved deaths...
Summit Fever by J_Baillier (M, 78,802 w., 18 Ch. || Mountain Climber AU || POV John, Angst, Tragedy, Suicidal Ideation, The Himalayas, Mountain Guide / Doctor John, Mount Climber Sherlock, Loneliness, Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Injured Sherlock / Sherlock Whump, Pining John) – After graduating from medical school, John Watson followed his heart to the Himalayas. Ten years later, he's a haunted cynic working for his ex-lover's trekking and mountaineering company. Will leading an expedition to Annapurna I—the most lethal of all the world's highest mountains—shake John out of his reverie, and who is the mystery client added to the group at the last minute?
Secrets and Revelations by Hisstah (E, 83,535 w., 9 Ch. || Sentinel / Guides Omegaverse AU || Adventure, Violence, Anal / Oral, Omega!John / Alpha!Sherlock, Case Fic, Politics, Mild DubCon) – Dr John Watson has some major secrets that he's kept from his flatmate, Alpha Sentinel Sherlock Holmes. Now the Sentinel Tower is after him. Can John stay out of their hands until he can reveal his secrets to Sherlock? Part 1 of Secrets and Revelations
Thermocline by J_Baillier (M, 83,557 w., 14 Ch. || Scuba Diving AU || Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Marine Archaeology, Asexual Sherlock, Horny John, Relationship Drama, Technical/Scuba/Wreck Diving, Slow Burn, Underwater /  Medical Peril, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, John POV, Protective John, Body Appreciation) – John "Five Oceans" Watson — technical dive instructor, dive accident analyst and weapon of mass seduction — meets recluse professor of maritime archaeology Holmes. As they head out to a remote archipelago off the coast of Guatemala to study and film its shipwrecks for a documentary, will sparks fly or fizzle out?
Maintenance and Repair by patternofdefiance (E, 106,650 w., 71 Ch. || Future AU, Augmentation || Augmented John, Depression, Body Modification, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding, Sci-Fi, Self-Care, Body Dysmorphia) – John wants to explain the rush of sensation and data, which is just another form of sensation (or is it the other way around?). John wants to say: Augmentation circuits report temperature, pressure, various forms of quantitative input. Sudden changes are reported as pain, since sudden changes are dangerous, and pain is the quickest way to encourage reflexive extraction. But all John can manage is, “Nng.” Because this sudden touch is not reporting as pain. Part 2 of STATIC
The Burning Heart by May_Shepard (M, 119,150 w., 21 Ch. || Canon Divergence, Post-TRF, John’s Sexuality, S3 Rewrite, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV John Watson, John’s Gay) – When Sherlock dies, John Watson feels like his life is over too. He’s completely shut down, until Mark Morstan, a new nurse at John’s medical clinic, catches his attention, and helps him uncover the long buried truth of his attraction to men. Although he’s certain he’ll never get over Sherlock, John plans to move on, and build a new life with Mark, unaware that Sherlock is not quite as dead as he appears, and that Mark is hiding secrets of his own.
The Swan Triad Series by Pennin_Ink (T, 121,660 w. across 3 works || Swan Lake AU || Magical / Fairy Tale AU, Romance, Falling in Love, Pining, Psychological Torture, Transformation) – Sherlock and John grow up spending every summer together. Their mothers' attempts to play matchmaker only fuel their mutual resentment and scorn. But then, one summer.
Colors by Quesarasara (E, 140,537 w., 17 Ch. || Pleasantville-Inspired AU || Soulmates, Colour Bonds, Alternating POV, Angst, Fluff, Pining, Case Fic, Medical Procedures) – Everyone on earth is born with eyes that see in black, white, and an endless series of greys. When you meet your soulmate, you finally see the world in color. We're all searching for the person who brings color to our lives. John and Sherlock are no exception. Part 1 of The Colors 'Verse
The Adventure of the Silver Scars by tangledblue (NR [M], 142,458 w., 41 Ch. || S3 Fix-It, Post-HLV/ Post-TAB / Canon Compliant, Case Fic, No Baby, Angst, Humour, UST, Slow Burn, Angry John, Reconciliation, Not Nice Mary / Leaving Mary, Dependent Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Caretaker John, Fist Fights, It’s An Experiment, Virgin Sherlock, Dancing, Drugging, John Whump, Pet Names, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Scars) – It’s been thirteen months since Mary shot Sherlock and John finds he’s still pissed off about it. Sherlock had thought everything was settled: John and Mary, domestic bliss. But when John turns up at Baker Street with suitcases, the world’s only consulting detective might not be prepared for the consequences. A new case. Some old scores to settle. Certain danger. Concertos, waltzes, and whisky.
The Lost Special: Family Matters (As Do Relationships) by ShirleyCarlton  (M, 144,688 w., 40 Ch. || S4 Fix It Fic, Unreliable Narrator, John’s Mind Bungalow, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending) – Sherrinford is not really the name of some high security prison. That was just a figment of John’s frantic coma dream. And Eurus is not actually Sherlock’s sister. That’s just something random she said to John before shooting him. Sherlock and John were never actually estranged. That was just their act to cover up what really happened to Mary – or Rosamund Moran, as her real name has turned out to be. Sherlock does have a secret sibling, though, and his name is Sherrinford. After finally eliminating Moran – though in a rather dramatically different way than they had envisioned – and exposing the truth about Eurus, John encourages Sherlock to delve into his past and to find out whether the reasons to keep Sherrinford away from Sherlock were the right ones, and to discover what really happened in 1981. Along the way, Sherlock and John gradually, finally, stop keeping each other at a distance, and eventually become a proper family of their own. (SC’s version of Sherrinford may as well be an OC; he’s well written and different from Canon)
Sketchy by serpentynka (E, 184,053 w., 83 Ch. || Post-TRF, Post-Mary, John Whump, Slow Burn Love Story, Case Fic, Art, Porn With Feelings, Switchlock, Travelling, Career Change, Family Secrets, Illness / Health) – What (and who) will be left when nobody cares about your Work? A slow-burn fic with cases, places, mistaken identities, unfair choices, essential changes, violent feels, blatant lies, fearless portraiture, family secrets, high-risk bespoke gifts, durable friendships, bedtime stories, foreign travel and tongues, sickness (and health), and the significance of things which are slow to unfurl -- but cannot be ignored. Oh, and...porn. Part 1: Sherlock takes on an obvious case (barely a 4) and meets someone who will force him to re-examine what it means to see. Part 1 of Sketchy
The Gilded Cage by BeautifulFiction (E, 326,887 w., 31 Ch. || Omegaverse || Omega Sherlock / Alpha John, Friends to Lovers, Dub Con, Reproductive Rights) – In a world where Omegas are the property of the elite Alphas, locked away and treasured by those wealthy enough to buy them, John never questioned his flatmate's secondary gender. Sherlock Holmes was an Alpha through-and through. Wasn't he? A chance discovery turns the world on its head, and John is left grappling to come to terms with Sherlock's past as events conspire to threaten their future.
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mollymawkwrites · 4 years ago
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Geralt/Eskel/Jaskier: Geralt brings Jaskier to Kaer Morhen and Eskel/Jaskier get their shit together first (communication skills!!) and Geralt comes to a Realization - dp/spitroasting - the turn of seasons, contrast of bright/dark, warm/cold
... this took way too long and I am so sorry about that. As an apology, here’s more than 5.5k of feelings, pining and misunderstandings, with a sprinkle of smut (as an apology, and not at all because I have zero self-restraint). Thank you so much for the lovely prompt, I hope this lives up to expectations 💖
I’ll post the link to Ao3 in the replies when this is beta’ed, sorry if there are any big mistakes!
CW: post-Mountain break-up, smut, Geralt’s Canonical Self-Loathing.
Falling in love with Eskel is the easiest thing Jaskier has ever done.
It happens slowly, but with a certainty that Jaskier has rarely felt before. Like sinking into a feather mattress, silk sheets caressing your skin.
It was never that easy with Geralt. Jaskier fell in love with him fast, sure, but he also fell hard, had to pick himself up afterwards, bruised and bloody.
The first day he arrives at Kaer Morhen, two weeks after his rescue from Nilfgaardian spies, Jaskier is miserable. The trek up the mountain has been hard on him, but harder even was his underwhelming reunion with Geralt, who barely acknowledged him, grunting that he'd be safer in Kaer Morhen before leaving Jaskier to decide by himself what he wanted to do.
His heart aches with two years of missing his best friend, finding he misses him even more now that they’ve been reunited. He'd always told himself he didn't hold any hope of his relationship with Geralt ever evolving into something more, but getting his heart broken on the top of a mountain had made him realise he'd somehow managed to fool himself too.
So he's prepared to spend a winter avoiding his former friend, though Geralt would probably not even call him that, holing up in whatever drafty room he's been attributed, and then he'll find a new name and dye his hair a different colour and hope it's enough to fool the Nilfs. It's a hard choice to make, renouncing the name he's made for himself, the reputation he's built over twenty years of hard work and songs he's still proud of today. But it's all tied too tightly to Geralt, and neither him nor his heart will survive it. Maybe, if Jaskier the Witcher’s bard is forgotten by everyone, his heartbreak won't be so obvious.
That pathetical plan is countered as soon as he steps foot in Kaer Morhen, and Geralt's brothers and mentor introduce themselves to him. They are similar, yet so different to the Witcher he's known for more than half his life.
They welcome him, if not with open arms, at least with warmth and smiles and, in Lambert's case, snarky banter Jaskier takes great pleasure in reciprocating.
Eskel doesn't draw his attention much at first. The dark-haired Witcher is friendly, tugging Geralt in a bear-like embrace as soon as they've passed the gates, and shaking Jaskier's hand with a kind, genuine smile Jaskier can't help but return.
But over the next couple of weeks, Jaskier spends more and more time with the amber-eyed wolf, discussing music and poetry and history as they execute their respective chores. After only a few days, Eskel is the one who searches him out when Jaskier is helping Vesemir in the kitchen or feeding the chickens in the courtyard. He shows him around the keep, more than the customary tour Vesemir gave Jaskier on his first day here. Eskel is full of stories from his childhood in the keep, and he is not greedy with the details. Jaskier can sense the underlying grief when the Witcher talks about the boys who didn't make it in the Trials, but Eskel doesn't linger in the sadness and makes sure to tell Jaskier all about his and Geralt's most imaginative antics.
The Witcher's company is a delight, and a nice distraction from Jaskier's heartache. When he can't take Geralt's silence and avoidance anymore, he seeks Eskel and his warmth, bathing in the man's attention. After a month, he finds himself dreaming of tanned hands and dark hair as much as pale skin and silver strands.
At first, he feels guilty about it. Eskel does not deserve to be someone's second choice. What he deserves is unconditional, untainted love.
But as days pass, frost a little thicker on the blades of grass in the courtyard every morning, the mountains losing their warm autumn colours to shades of blue and grey, Jaskier and Eskel gravitate towards each other until they collide, softly and without a sound. It happens so naturally, Jaskier almost thinks he’s dreamt it when he wakes up one day at dawn, and instead of his freezing room, he opens his eyes to a broad, golden-skinned chest. His cheek rises and falls with the slow breaths where it rests on one plush pec, a pool of his own saliva glistening in a smattering of dark hair.
He hasn’t felt that relaxed in years, and only part of it is due to the frankly fantastic post-sex bliss he’s still basking in. There is no anxiety, no second thoughts. Eskel made sure to make his intentions clear before they fell into bed together, shocking Jaskier into silence with how open with his feelings he was. The bard still can’t help but compare how completely different Geralt and Eskel are.
They agreed to take things slow, to enjoy each other for the winter and then see where things take them. Jaskier knows he’s falling in love with Eskel, but it doesn’t feel scary. He won’t be alone once the time comes to make a decision.
It takes another week for him to move into Eskel’s room completely. They don’t bother hiding their new… entanglement, to the others. No secret can be kept in a keep full of Witchers, and neither Eskel nor Jaskier cares to pretend.
Lambert gives them shit, to no one’s surprise, and Ciri squeals in delight, the gossiping princess resurfacing for a few moments. Vesemir claps Eskel on the shoulder, before reminding all of them that they have chores to do.
Geralt doesn’t say anything.
Jaskier didn’t expect him to jump in joy, he’s not sure the Witcher is even capable of such displays of emotion, but the white-haired Witcher doesn’t even look at them, only ushers Ciri outside to the training grounds.
Over the next few weeks, Jaskier only sees him at supper. He’s gotten used to avoiding Geralt, to keep out of his way, but until then they would still meet in the hall when the weather was too bad for the Witchers to train outside, or at lunch when they would accidentally come in for a bite at the same time. Eskel and Geralt spend a considerable amount of time together, and Jaskier would often find them together doing whatever repair was needed, but these days, when he manages to escape his chores long enough to seek his lover for a stolen kiss or a quick fuck, Geralt is nowhere in sight.
When Jaskier asks his amber-eyed wolf one evening after they retired to their room, Eskel confirms what he already suspected.
“I haven’t seen him in a while, no,” the Witcher rumbles softly, a hand tracing arabesques on the bare skin of Jaskier’s back. “He goes hunting alone almost every day. He does that, sometimes, when he’s upset, though I’m not sure what it’s about, this time.”
Jaskier hums, pensive. His heart clenches at the thought of Geralt avoiding his own family. Guilt creeps on him, its long, sharp claws burying themselves under his ribs. How dare he come to Geralt’s only home, his only place of peace and acceptance, and claim a place in his brother’s heart? He’s done a shit job of fulfilling Geralt’s wish of having him out of his life, hasn’t he?
A strong arm wraps around his shoulders, pulling him closer to the furnace of Eskel’s body.
“What’re you thinking of that makes you smell so sad, songbird?”
Jaskier smiles at the endearment. His wolf is generous with his affection, and Jaskier is selfish. He wants it all. But does he have any right to it, if he is taking it from Geralt?
“Do you think it’s because of us?” He asks, turning his head to rest his chin on Eskel’s sternum. “That Geralt is keeping to himself, I mean.”
Eskel frowns pensively. “I… don’t know. I suppose, in a way. But I think he’s mostly wallowing in his own self-loathing.”
“When isn’t he?” Jaskier teases.
The Witcher huffs, a sad half-smile tugging at his scars. “I was afraid he’d be jealous, or upset, hoping maybe it’d help him pull his head out of his own ass, but I’m afraid it’s buried even deeper than I thought.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I didn’t want to get between the two of you, but I know Geralt. He ain’t gonna do anything about it, and then he’ll regret it once it’s too late.”
That doesn’t make any sense. “Eskel, there’s nothing between me and Geralt.” Well, that’s not quite true. “I wanted there to be something, for a very long time, but… well, turns out I was the only one wanting it. If anything, I thought I was the one getting between the two of you.”
“Songbird, there hasn’t been anything but friendship between Geralt and I since before you were born.” Sadness clouds Eskel’s eyes for a second, and the piece Jaskier has been missing clicks into place.
“You and Geralt were together?” He asks, voice tight with emotion.
“Not sure we can even call it that,” a bitter smile twists Eskel’s scars in a painful grimace. “We found… comfort, with each other, when nothing else could give us that. But it hasn’t been like that in a very long time.”
“Why?”
Eskel shrugs with one shoulder, almost dislodging Jaskier from his position. “People change, songbird. And when you live as long as we do, well… you can’t expect things to stay the same forever. I’m glad we stayed as close as we are, despite him not wanting us to be anything other than friends anymore.”
The Witcher kisses the crown of Jaskier’s head and flicks his wrist, snuffing out the candles, a clear sign that the conversation is over. Jaskier doesn’t push, conscious this is a sensitive subject, but that doesn’t keep him from staring in the darkness for a long time after Eskel’s breaths have slowed and deepened, troubled by this new facet of the two men he loves.
Geralt’s reaction makes more sense now, why he would act so uncomfortable around Eskel and Jaskier now that the two of them are a thing. If Geralt still has feelings for his friend, then… seeing Jaskier, the man he hates and despises, whom he holds responsible for his every trouble (quite unfairly, in Jaskier’s opinion, but still), taking his place in the arms of the man he’s been in love with for longer than the bard has been alive… well, Jaskier can understand why he’d be upset.
There’s just a tiny bit of pettiness coming from the selfish, ugly part of him, that sings at the idea. Geralt broke his heart on that mountain top, isn’t it simple justice that Jaskier breaks his heart in turn?
But that line of thought is quickly smothered by guilt, and, more upsettingly, love. He’s loved Geralt for half his life now. No matter how hurt he might be, all he wants is for him to be happy. Or as happy as a self-loathing Witcher can be.
And it’s so obvious that Eskel loves him, too, now that Jaskier thinks about it. There’s a softness in his eyes and the corner of his mouth when he looks at Geralt that isn’t there when he’s around anyone else, an ease and a trust that Jaskier used to attribute to long term friendship but can only come from two bodies knowing each other intimately.
Jaskier can’t put himself between the two of them, can’t bear the idea of robbing both men of the little happiness they can find in a world that doesn’t accept them. And if he was Geralt, he would probably let Eskel down gently, taking himself out of the way and hoping the other two would get their shit together and talk, but he’s not, and if there’s a way that the three of them can find even a little satisfaction in this mess, then he’s going to try his best and make it happen.
He only hopes Geralt will listen to him.
*
It takes him a few days to work up the courage to approach the sullen White Wolf, and then another two to catch him alone, one night after dinner.
Unsurprisingly, he finds him in the stables, brushing down a Roach who seems more interested in nipping at Scorpion’s flanks than in the brooding Witcher in her stall. A wave of fondness overcomes Jaskier at the familiar sight, and he has to shake himself to remember what he’s come here to do.
“Geralt,” he says, softer than he intended. The Witcher doesn’t startle, but he tenses visibly, his grip on the brush turning white-knuckled. Jaskier lets out a trembling sigh, his resolve the only thing keeping him from turning away and finding shelter in Eskel’s arms to cry his heartache away. “We need to talk.”
Geralt doesn’t gratify him with an answer, like maybe if he ignores Jaskier long enough the bard will go away. How he didn’t learn that doesn’t work in the twenty years they’ve known each other, Jaskier has no idea.
“It’s about Eskel.” That, at least, has the merit to catch Geralt’s attention, the Witcher turning his head just enough to peek at Jaskier from the corner of his eye.
“He told me, about… about the two of you. What you were to each other.”
Geralt sucks in a harp breath. “It doesn’t matter. It was a long time ago.”
And Jaskier can see this is a lie even with the Witcher turning his back to him. His heart clenches, for his best friend, despite everything that happened, and his lover, who have not allowed themselves to have what they both so visibly crave. “It does, though. It does matter. I’m not… I have no wish to keep you from each other, Geralt. I… I love him.” Jaskier chokes out, and something painful flashes in Geralt’s eyes. “And I… I…” he almost lets himself say it, bare his heart for Geralt to see, but he’s gotten too used to protecting himself, to hiding his most shameful truth. “I know you do, too.”
Geralt hangs his head between his shoulders, face hidden in the shadows, the warm, low light of the oil lamp he brought with him playing in his pale hair. “You’re making him happy. The two of you… you’re good, together. I am glad you found each other.”
“Are you really, Geralt? Because you’ve been avoiding us for weeks. It’s hurting him.” It’s hurting me, Jaskier doesn’t say, because none of this is about him. “Listen, I… I know you don’t want anything to do with me, I got that loud and clear, but if there’s a way… for us three to… to find satisfaction, then maybe…”
“Speak plainly, bard.”
Jaskier exhales, nerves making his throat tight. “You know I don’t believe in exclusive relationships,” and Geralt doesn’t, either; Yennefer and him both had lovers on the side, it was no secret between them. “If you and Eskel wanted to… start again where you left things, I see no issue with that. I want him to be happy, too. I… I want you to be happy, Geralt. You’re still important to me, even after everything.”
He’s said more than he wanted to, and Geralt doesn’t even deign to look at him. That’s so familiar it hurts. Jaskier smiles, an ugly thing full of regrets and unspoken words, and turns on his heels. He’s done his part. It’s up to Geralt to make a choice, now.
“Jaskier,” a broken voice says as a hand wraps around his wrist. He startles, and turns to find Geralt watching him with pleading eyes. It’s such an absurd sight, it leaves him speechless for a minute, and Geralt takes it as an encouragement to speak. The Witcher clears his throat. “I don’t… You’re…” the way he interrupts himself in obvious frustration, brow furrowed and lips thinned, is almost endearing. “You’re important to me, too.”
Tears swell in Jaskier’s eyes, and he tugs at his wrist to free it. Geralt lets him go without resistance.
“Please don’t lie to me, Geralt. I can take the hurt, I can take the rejection. But I won’t take the pity.” He almost spits the last sentence, and a surge of bitter satisfaction warms his painful heart at Geralt’s flinch.
“I’m not, I swear. I… I’ve missed you, Jask, I’ve missed you so much.” His voice is husky, weighed by shame and regret, and Jaskier has no doubt he is saying the truth. Geralt is a lot of things, but a good actor is not one of them. “There hasn’t been a day I haven’t thought about what I said to you after the dragon hunt. None of it was true, I… I was furious, but it wasn’t your fault. I’m so sorry.”
When Jaskier let himself dream of this moment, while walking down of the mountain or in the dark of the cell the Nilfargiaans kept him in, he’d imagined how he’d make Geralt grovel, how he’d tell him about every little thing Jaskier had ever done for him, to make his life easier, to show him how he could find happiness even on the Path.
As it is, Jaskier only stares at Geralt for a few seconds before tugging him into a crushing embrace. “Fuck, I’ve missed you too, you stupid Witcher.”
Geralt makes a wounded noise but lets himself be engulfed in Jaskier’s arms, tucking his nose in the hollow of his throat. “I’m sorry,” he chokes out, warm breath humid against the bard’s skin. “I wanted to come looking after you, but I had to make sure Ciri was safe…”
“I am glad you did,” Jaskier says, petting the hair at the nape of Geralt’s neck. “But why didn’t you say anything once Yennefer brought me to you? Geralt, we climbed up those damn mountains together. It’s been two months since we’ve been here. I thought you didn’t… that you didn’t want me here.”
Hands twist in the back of Jaskier’s thick woolen cape. “I didn’t know how to. While we were still on the Path I was worried about Nilfgaard catching up to us, about keeping Ciri and you fed and safe, and I thought this could wait until we were here. But then…” Geralt makes a frustrated noise so familiar it has Jaskier smiling in the crown of his head.
“Words were hard to find?”
He feels more than he sees Geralt’s nod. “And once you and Eskel became… involved, you seemed so much happier. I thought I’d only make things worse, and that you deserved to move on. To… forget about me. But I do want you here, Jaskier. If I had any right to it, I’d want you by my side always.”
A breath catches in Jaskier's throat, and tears prick at the corner of his eyes. Those are words he's dreamt of hearing for so many years, and he's finally hearing them now, in a stable smelling of horseshit and hay. It's so simple, so mundane, and yet he can barely bring himself to believe this is truly happening.
And maybe it's because he is stunned, or maybe because he's done hiding, but suddenly it feels so important that he says the truth.
"Geralt, you… you must know…" he pulls back, putting just enough distance between them that he can see Geralt's suspiciously red-rimmed eyes, that he can see how the Witcher reacts to his words. "I would have followed you anywhere, until my feet could carry me no more. You know that, right? I've never been subtle," he laughs wetly. Geralt is looking increasingly confused, like he has no idea what Jaskier is talking about, and that just doesn't make sense.
Making a frustrated sound, Jaskier twists his hands in the lapels of Geralt's thick winter coat, tugging him forward slowly so the Witcher can stop him if he wants.
But he doesn't, and their lips meet, harshly enough that Jaskier hopes it'll carry his meaning even through Geralt's thick skull.
It must work, because next thing he knows, he is being ravished quite thoroughly by an enthusiastic Witcher, a hand at the back of his head and another at the small of his back, under the hem of his cape. A thumb rubs circles at the base of his spine, and he's slowly melting into a puddle of contentment, his only thought a constant stream of this is happening, oh my fucking gods this is happening.
There's little time for the realization to set in, though, as a draft of cold wind fills the stables, and a soft "oh" pushes Jaskier and Geralt to separate.
Just outside of the circle of light cast by the oil lamp, Eskel stands watching them, eyebrows drawn up in surprise. Jaskier's guts clench in guilt and he steps away from Geralt hurriedly. "Eskel, it's not-" what you think, he doesn't finish, because that is a lie, and Eskel deserves better than lies.
But there's little else Jaskier can say to justify how Eskel just found him, kissing his best friend and former lover passionately in the middle of the night, when he should have been back in their shared bed an hour ago.
He knew he'd fuck up somehow. That's so classic.
The three of them are silent for a heartbeat, the horses shifting in their stalls the only noise in the cramped space, and Jaskier wants to cross the space between Eskel and him so badly, but he knows he doesn't have the right to, and it's killing him.
Just when his agony reaches a peak, Eskel's mouth curls at the corner, softness blooming in his eyes. "I see you've gotten your shit together," he says. " 's about time."
This is so completely out of what Jaskier expected him to say that he doesn’t manage to find a suitable answer. Surprisingly, Geralt is the one to talk next.
“I’m not going to take him from you,” he says cautiously.
“I know,” Eskel grins. “I know that if I asked you you would never even look at him again.”
Jaskier spares a glance for Geralt, and a pit opens in his gut at the acceptance he finds in his eyes.
“But that would make the three of us miserable,” Eskel adds. “And I won’t do that to Jaskier, or to you.”
“Eskel, what are you saying?” If his soft-hearted Witcher is suggesting what Jaskier thinks he is…
“I don’t see why things between us should change, songbird, if you wished to spend some nights in Geralt’s bed. Of course, if you two want to be exclusive to each other,” the first glimmer of doubt insinuates itself in Eskel’s kind voice, but he keeps speaking bravely, “then I will not impose myself.”
“No!” Jaskier says, a little too loud, his hand shooting up to grip at Eskel’s wrist. Roach nickers irritably in her stall at the disturbance.
“I… I mean, if both you and Geralt are amenable, there is space in my bed for the two of you.”
Eskel’s dark eyebrow arches. “Don’t you mean in my bed?”
But his hand closes around Jaskier’s reassuringly, warm and soft as he looks at Geralt. “What do you say, Wolf?”
And Geralt is watching them both with equal part fear and want in his eyes, like his deepest desire is just in reach but he isn’t sure if it’s not going to burn him at the first touch. Jaskier extends his free hand, and he can feel Eskel tensing infinitesimally beside him, careful to keep a relaxed posture, but as worried as Jaskier that their white-haired Witcher is going to bolt out the door to a more familiar loneliness.
Geralt surprises them both by taking Jaskier’s hand with an air of firm resolution, crossing the space between them slowly until he stands close enough to share their warmth. Eskel raises his left hand, cupping Geralt’s jaw with infinite softness. Jaskier can see in his eyes the same pride he is feeling himself, at their white wolf’s bravery.
The air leaves Jaskier’s lungs in a rush when the two men’s lips meet like they weren’t ever meant to part. The contrast of Eskel’s golden skin against Geralt’s milky one is the most beautiful work of art he’s ever been given to see, and the tight heat in his lower belly tells him he wants to see more of it, now.
The two Witchers kiss for a long minute, Jaskier watching them with naked hunger and want, but for once not in a hurry to claim the attention back on himself. He makes an involuntary noise when Eskel nips at Geralt’s lower lip playfully, and two burning golden gazes turn on him. It’s so intense, so heavy, that another breath leaves Jaskier with a wheeze. A grin is spreading on Eskel’s handsome features, and Geralt’s eyes sparkle with interest.
“What do you think, Wolf? Do you think the two of us will be enough to satisfy our little bard?”
And oh, Jaskier does so want them to try.
*
Jaskier often prides himself loudly and brazenly of his carnal exploits as an Oxenfurt student and travelling bard. He’s had sex with numerous people of all genders and races, sometimes several at the same time, and has been praised for being a generous and enthusiastic lover.
Never has he been so overwhelmed after only a few minutes of foreplay.
There’s a cock down his throat and fingers in his arse and he��s trembling all over. Eskel is soothing him with a palm to his side, murmuring praise as he pushes three thick, oiled fingers to Jaskier’s prostate.
Geralt is brushing a hand down his cheek, feeling his own cock through the stretched skin. Jaskier sucks and licks with single-minded focus, moaning and wiggling when Eskel executes a particularly well-aimed thrust.
“Look at him, asking for more even when he’s stuffed full,” Eskel smugly says to Geralt as he gives a sharp slap to the bard’s arse. Jaskier yelps and jumps forward, Geralt’s cock hitting the back of his throat. He chokes and gags but doesn’t relent, breathing through his nose expertly. Geralt wipes the tears from his cheeks, the tender motion in stark contrast with his curses and animalistic grunts. It’s a contradiction Jaskier is quickly becoming addicted to.
He's so focused on his worship of Geralt's glorious cock he doesn't notice Eskel's fingers slipping out of his hole before they are replaced with the fat head of his prick. He gasps, letting Geralt's hard length slip out of his mouth, resting his temple against his hip as he breathes through the intrusion. He still hasn't gotten used to Eskel's girth, the stretch leaving him drooling and dazed every time.
They're all still as Jaskier accommodates it, testing the sensation with little clenches of his arse that have Eskel grunting and squeezing the plump flesh of his cheeks.
"'m good, you can move," Jaskier mumbles in the dip of Geralt's hip, and Eskel pulls out to execute a few shallow thrusts, getting the both of them used to the new sensations.
When he picks up speed, a hand threads in Jaskier's hair, pulling him to look up and meet a painfully tender gaze. Geralt holds him with one hand, the other grasping his own cock and guiding it back into Jaskier’s begging mouth, smearing a trail of pre-come on his cheek on the way.
It's easy to lose himself into it after that. He is full, warm and content, and he wishes he could stay that way forever, pinned between his two lovers, pleasing them with his wet mouth and his tight arse. Used for their pleasure alone.
He's only human, though, and his stamina can't compare to two Witchers'. He spills almost as soon as Eskel gets a hand on his cock, his wails muffled by Geralt's.
Geralt is caring enough to let Jaskier breathe as he comes down, cradling the bard’s face in his hands, but Eskel doesn't pull out. They've talked about each other's boundaries at length, he knows Jaskier can take more.
He's brushing his thumb where Jaskier and him are connected, hole fluttering with the last spasms of his orgasm. Jaskier whimpers at the sensation.
"Damn, you always get so loose and sloppy when you've come… do you think you could take the two of us like this?"
Jaskier's chest swells with a sob at the thought, arms trembling where they struggle to keep him up. The fingers around his jaw squeeze lightly, demanding his attention, and he meets Geralt's gaze once again.
"Answer to Eskel, pretty lark," Geralt rumbles. "Is it too much? Do you want more?"
"Yes," Jaskier manages to slur. "More, please. I want… I want both of you."
Geralt's pupils expand impossibly larger, and he bends to kiss Jaskier languidly.
He's a very thorough kisser, grunting at the taste of himself on Jaskier's tongue. Tears well up in Jaskier's eyes as emotion seizes his heart. Finally, he thinks, finally, I get to have him.
He shouts in the kiss, breaking their connection, when Eskel's thumb slips along his cock in Jaskier's hole.
The stretch is intense, even with how relaxed Jaskier is from his climax, and his arms give out, his face squashing into the mattress with a moan.
Geralt chuckles above him before gathering the weak bard into his arms, shuffling them so Jaskier is propped against his chest, while Eskel keeps opening him from behind.
It’s too warm there, pinned between his two Witchers, but Jaskier doesn’t have any complaint. Geralt resumes kissing him to distract him from the almost too intense stretch, and it works. When his breath grows too ragged, Geralt frees his lips and lets him rest his head against his shoulder for a second, lungs expanding with deep gulps of breath. Geralt and Eskel talk in hushed voices, but he can’t focus on what they’re saying, his every thought gathering around the point where he is stretched wider than he’s ever been around Eskel’s cock and fingers.
He is manhandled without difficulty, until he is straddling Geralt’s lap, Eskel still buried hilt deep in him, Geralt mouthing at his neck, two pairs of large hands roaming his sides, his back, his stomach.
“You ready, songbird?” Eskel rumbles in his ear, the low timbre of his voice piercing through the thick fog in Jaskier’s fucked out brain.
The bard nods into Geralt’s shoulder, whining pitifully.
“Did you actually manage to fuck words out of him, Eskel?” Geralt says with a hint of humour, squeezing Jaskier against him affectionately. “Might have to give you a medal for that.”
“Hm. What about a kiss?”
Jaskier smiles groggily at the sounds of intense making-out next to his ear, turning his head to admire the view. Geralt and Eskel truly are gorgeous together, skins lit by the candles, sweat beading on their foreheads, a drop rolling down the crease of one of Eskel’s scars to where his lips join Geralt’s. Their kiss is all teeth and tongue, playful and nipping, fighting for a control none of them truly cares about. It’s a sight Jaskier hopes to be graced with every day of his life from now on.
But for now, impatience is making him clench and grind around Eskel, who breaks his and Geralt’s kiss to grunt. “We haven’t forgotten about you, songbird, don’t worry.”
He cups Jaskier’s cheek in his hand to meet his lips, tasting of Geralt and himself.
There’s a new pressure at Jaskier’s entrance and he gasps in Eskel’s mouth when he realizes it’s Geralt’s cock pushing inside him. The three of them moan in unison when it gets past the ring of muscles and slides besides Eskel’s prick. They stay still, panting for a few moments, until Jaskier garbles a “move” and Eskel complies, taking the lead. Geralt, carrying most of Jaskier’s weight, is slower at the beginning, but picks up speed, moving in counterpart to Eskel, never leaving Jaskier empty even for a single second. They hit his prostate with every thrust in, overwhelming him so quickly he’s only a ragdoll between the two of them after only a few minutes of the same treatment.
Eskel and Geralt lavish his throat and shoulders with soft bites and soothing licks, meeting for a kiss over him once or twice.
Jaskier comes quickly, his cock rutting against Geralt’s toned abs, the friction barely enough to have him tip over the edge, coating the rippling muscles in thick white come. Eskel follows him rapidly, his thrusts growing erratic until he spills deep into Jaskier’s ass, whispering his name reverently in the short hair at the nape of his neck. Geralt joins them after a few more thrusts, grunting his release into Jaskier’s collarbone, goosebumps breaking over the skin of his back.
The Witchers’ softening pricks slip out of his ass and Jaskier hisses at the sudden chill of emptiness. A dribble of come drips from his sensitive hole, gaping and fluttering, and Eskel takes a sharp intake of breath at the sight, fingers coming to brush the abused flesh. Jaskier whimpers in protest, too tired to move, and Geralt shushes him with a kiss to the tip of his nose.
They bring him down to the mattress, arranging his limbs comfortably. One of them - Jaskier doesn’t open his eyes to check which - gets up and brings back a rag to clean him up and a waterskin, bullying him to drink even though all he wants is to lie down and sleep.
Finally, they all snuggle up together on the bed that is slightly too small for three grown men, the room stinking of sex.
There will be a lot to talk about, tomorrow when they wake up, but for now Jaskier buries his nose in the crook of Geralt’s neck, Eskel plastered to his back, both their hands meeting on his chest, over his slowly beating heart. Content. Warm. Jaskier drifts off with a smile on his face and a new song in his mind.
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life-rewritten · 4 years ago
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WE BEST LOVE  (Fighting Mr 2nd) DEYI and The Theme of Control and Power
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You know that show that you know you can talk about forever and be obsessed with, although it seems pretty simple and not really that complicated to analyse and break down? Well, We Best Love (WBL) is precisely that in the most amazing way. I'm not shocked because I've always been a fan of the History Series, especially with this writer and how she creates her projects; it's not surprising that WBL happens to be the most comfortable show to lean into. It feels like entering a cheesy, cute, romantic novel. Yet, it still is the most angsty, passionate, drama-filled plot enough to make you want to run into the screen and comfort these comfort characters, scream at them when they're not making sense, and keep watching despite the pain when you feel like they've gone too far. And I kept quiet and watched season 1 of WBL. I was entranced and in love because it was so simple, but it felt perfect for me; it was a distraction, it made me smile, and it also made my heart quiver. I adored all the actors, and I also enjoyed how the storyline was told. It doesn't have to be so deep and full of clues, but there were facets to the characters, clear set rules in understanding their character roles, and small hints building in the last episode that all was not well and a lot was coming for our couple in the future. It broke my heart because season 1 was focused on the immaturity and naiveness of how we feel when we enter university for the first time; the excitement, but still innocence of hopefully finding someone to mesh with, and yet the dumbness/naivety that can distract us or slow us down before knowing who that person is. Season 1 was light, funny, and sweet because that's how our doe-eyed souls feel when we first enter college and get to discover who we are. Season 2, on the other hand, is focusing on maturity, actually dealing with our flaws, coping with the responsibilities and hardships of life, duty and obligation vs wants and need; the characters are older now, affected by the world's cruelties/situations and now have walls up higher than before. 
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And in order to help us get that vibe, even more, our couple's relationship is put through the wringer, hearts torn, misunderstandings prolonged unfairly, and everyone broken just staying in a state of pining, longing and anger, anger, at what was lost to them; the innocence/fun of falling in love, the guise of being in control, and the joy of being free and dumb in love. It isn't a surprise to see our main character, Shide and Shu Yi, see their flaws fleshed out more in the open and actually increased and exposed for us, the audience, to watch and dislike. Shu Yi's short temper becomes even more exposed as he struggles to have control over his past and feelings for Shide once they reunite, and Shide's withdrawal of emotions also becomes even more strained and put on focus as he also realises what he has lost. Both of them enter this sick twisted, and tense need for control and power that their relationship becomes intense and full of passion hidden behind the anger and resentment. So I'm going to break down the idea of Control and Power with these twos relationship, a certain theme that has been there since season 1, and why now it's something both rivals are struggling to obtain to win, especially Shuyi, who is determined this time to not be Mr 2nd when it comes to Shide again. Hence the title Fighting Mr 2nd.
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Misunderstandings and Miscommunications
Let's first focus on the miscommunication/ separation at hand. This exposed so much already about how these two felt about the power they hold over the other. Let's first look at what season 1 exposed; for Shide, Shuyi has always had control over him since the moment his young self told him that he would be a companion to him whenever he was lonely. Shide has desperately loved Shuyi and did everything possible to ensure he kept Shuyi's focus on him no matter what. The way he decided to do this was to put himself in a place more powerful than Shuyi; he put himself always ahead of Shuyi, ensuring he was always number one no matter what. This was how he controlled the situation; for him, as long as Shuyi noticed him, he was happy to continue hoping for a change and also making him react. In Shide's mind, he never wanted to force/ make Shuyi fall for him because he didn't think it was possible. He just wanted to be by his side (as a 'friend') until graduation was over.This shows me already some stuff about their relationship. How Shide perceives Shuyi; one, he didn't trust in Shuyi's love as being as strong as he was. He even says it to Shuyi on the bridge when they confessed to each other. For him, Shuyi was always the 'lucky' one; the one in control, the real winner because he had him in his palm of his hand. Shuyi was the one who made him whipped, the one he chased after secretly for 8 years or more. Shuyi has always been the one with the hold over him. Immediately they got together, Shide also tells Shouyi his confusion but the happiness that Shuyi is also feeling the same towards him.
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Shide can't believe the switch in Shuyi's personality and actions for him; Shuyi still tried to play of Shide's grand confessions of love in the last episode, and Shide was okay as long as Shuyi kept paying attention to him. But in my head, it showed that Shide didn't think Shuyi's love was as unconditional, as strong, as uncontrollable as his. He didn't know he had any hold over Shuyi. He thought it was his constant love and chase that won Shuyi in the end, so what happens when he thinks he pushed Shuyi away? In Shide's perspective, he's the one who slacked behind and pushed Shuyi away by disappearing for 5 years, which fair enough makes sense; Shuyi has every right to be angry at being ghosted. But Shide blames himself and thinks it's because his show of love was weakened and slowed down that it caused Shuyi to retreat and walk away easily. Because he wasn't fighting anymore for their love, he lost Shuyi's attention. Again this suggests how fickle he believes Shuyi's feelings are and how still in his head he believes he's the one with the long-lasting love/feelings.
Shide's personality is someone who likes to be in control (like Shuyi but for different ways and reasons); he's kind of had to always be; ever since his dad died, he's had to try and make it his goal to become stronger and better to take care of his mum, and to ensure they live well. This is connected to the theme of Duty and Obligation in the show.  Even in Season 1, the reason he has to leave for America for a bit is to ensure his mum settles in nicely. Even after that, he's again the one responsible for ensuring whoever was sick in America was taken care of. It's because of his need to be responsible and be in control that Shuyi always feels distanced from him (mocked, misunderstood, and hurt). Shide is someone who likes to keep a calm demeanour. He likes to take things on by himself; he likes to not show when he's hurting or alone (apart from that one time as a kid where he broke down on Shuyi). In fact, it might be because Shuyi is the only one who did see him in his vulnerable state and gave him an aim to become stronger that made him cling on to his love for him and devote himself to his love for him. But in looking so in control of his emotions, Shuyi always saw Shide as someone who loved winning and making him feel like a fool. In season 1, he thought Shide did it on purpose to see him lose control and be a mess, and in season 2, he's resorted back to that thinking. Let's look at why?
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No 1 for You (Shide’s pov)  vs Fighting Mr 2nd (Shuyi’s pov)
Shuyi did not also understand the proper depth of Shide's feelings. I guess we should have seen it coming that he didn't fully understand how deep they were, he had heard ideas from Shide's mother, he had heard grand declarations from Shide (after he was the one to pry it out of him), but he didn't actually trust it fully. I think because he didn't fully trust both their sexualities and identities when it came to their feelings. Like I said, we should have seen it coming when he admits he doesn't want to fall for a guy, but also it's because it's Shide he's okay with being in love. However, people complained about this because in BL, we're tired of the I love you, not boys trajectory always chosen. However, it was more than that. I think because of what's embedded in people's minds at a young age (due to society),  there might have also been, as a result of that,  hints of internalised homophobia (IH) with Shuyi. And that's why it made sense for him to wither and assume that Shide truly would be with someone else and be married and have kids. Because of IH, Shuyi may have automatically thought it made sense that Shide would move on, get married and have kids in America (hence as he said in episode 1,  he was disqualified by choice) because, in his head, he didn't understand Shide's love and devotion for him.
It also points to insecurity and fear that he might not be enough/the better option for Shide. One of his pet peeves was that he was always coming second to Shide, he was always being seen by himself as second best, and he probably also thought he had become the second-best option to Shide living a great 'fulfilled' life according to 'society' where he is married to a wife and has kids. This is why in the special episode, he also gives up easily and wishes him the best refusing to actually question why Shide would do this to him after all the stupid and grand promises he made a year ago before he left. Promises of marriage, promises of devotion, of being his family etc. Of course, this felt like Shuyi was thoroughly mocked and lowered because he had lost again to Shide by letting his heart trust him and wait for him. Now, in season 2, he's determined to not do that too. To not lose control of his heart ever again. To not fail to Shide in any way, shape or form ever again.
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Shuyi; The Guise of Control
Shide is always acting on the surface like he's in control, causing Shuyi to always think he's more vulnerable and a fool, and it makes season 2 make more sense. Even if Shide says, he'll make Shuyi look at him again, how on earth is he meant to ever let that happen? He literally manipulated the situation in season 1 and got Shuyi's walls down only for him just to cheat on him, so how can Shuyi trust just his actions on the surface?
No matter how devoted Shide is looking, even at the end finally showing a hint of losing control under Shuyi's hold which Shuyi was not expecting because he thought Shide will always want to again be 'proper'.  And in the past, it was Shuyi who always pushed for skinship once they started dating; Shide always again acted like he hadn't been affected; this was discussed actually in that final episode. Even if on the surface Shide looked affected, Shuyi wouldn't trust that. Because Shide is always holding back whilst Shuyi always feels like a fool, never being able to control himself around him, never being able to control his emotions or have a poker face around him. From the first episode in season 1, Shuyi has always been uncontrollable when it came to Shide, whilst Shide always came out looking cool.
Shuyi always ended up in the most vulnerable shameful state (forgetfully hurting himself in reaction to Shide's presence, being the one distracted and bothered by skinship in the last episode whilst Shide studied, or even being exposed and screaming down a bridge, his love for Shide to make Shide come out and say how he feels). Shuyi always ended up being weakened and frustrated because Shide seemed like he had everything in order. Shuyi is now adamant he's lying or that Shuyi is still the one who's more in love with him (his biggest fear). For example, the slap he gives to Shide (exposed his lack of control of emotions around Shide) and yet Shide immediately tried to control the situation, making Shuyi again look like the irrational one and the most affected one. Also, as mentioned it Shuyi (in Shuyi's head), who proceeded to force/get Shide to confess. Because Shide was too focused on controlling his environment, avoiding the situation, holding back his feelings, whilst Shuyi's emotions always get the best of him and caused him to still lose in front of Shide. Basically letting Shide get his way all the time. And by doing that, it was Shuyi who ended up waiting for a year and then being 'cheated' on, being ghosted with his heart shattered.
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The Fear of Weakness and Vulnerability
Other examples are Shide going to Shuyi's house and ignoring him in his own home (again, Shuyi can't even control his environment when it comes to Shide, everything he owns feels little because Shide seems to have a hold over him in everything), and proceeding to make him the fried rice. Even as the vice president who's meant to be in control and be in charge of letting go of people (which his father is pressuring him to do, he has no choice in the matter), Shide is the CEO (a higher position)  of the company and is adamant on convincing Shuyi to do no such thing. It's a big fear to Shuyi, which is why he's determined to ensure he does fire these people because if he doesn't, It means he's again coinciding underneath Shide's hold over him, over everything he has, including his heart.
The act of making fried rice in Shuyi's house as if nothing is going on, Shide ignoring his tantrums and outbursts does again what Shuyi hates, makes him feel stupid, weak and vulnerable. It makes him feel like he's losing again to Shide. This is why I think he really has no other option in his mind to win but to use emotions and feelings (what he can't control) as a weapon to capture Shide. By making Shide fall for him emotionally and then being the one to break his heart, that's how Shuyi thinks he'll finally be able to break down Shide's calm, façade that he's always in control, that's how he stops being Mr Second. Obviously, it's a stupid idea because Shuyi literally becomes weakened just by being in Shide's presence. To be anywhere intimate with him, he will only resort to his own emotions being, even more, harder to handle even if he tries to play it off as just attraction.
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And for both of them, control is even harder physically with emotions because they've been 'starved' of each other's presence for 5 years, of each other's touch and connection. As shown in episode 1 of FMS, they're both in a state of pining, longing and waiting for one of them to give in. For 5 years, Shuyi was secretly fighting against the truth that he had been waiting for Shide to return even when he tried to focus all his energy and heart into hate and bitterness (to distract him from the pain of waiting). Shuyi never wanted to give up on hope, never wanted to let go of Shide, because it's out of his control to forget or move on. He couldn't do that even if he tried. This is why he also tries again to use a power play with a fake girlfriend that he couldn't remember the name for.  Every single sentence he said was how he compared himself to the girl he thought Shide cheated on him with. He was saying it to hurt Shide, but in the end, he was still exposing his own hurt and insecurity about why he thought Shide left him.
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Shide; Control Vs Sacrifice
Meanwhile, the audience all know that, on the other hand, Shide is the one who has no control over the matter. No matter what he seems like on the surface/ in front of Shuyi, Shide is completely tired, weak and frustrated once he sees Shuyi again. It's frustrating because the only time he shows his emotions is once Shuyi isn't looking; he cries only after Shuyi has left, always holding his feelings and only letting it out when he's by himself. Although to Shuyi, it seems he's in control, being the CEO, being the one who disappeared for 5 years, being the one who is successful and influential, Shuyi couldn't be more opposite in his thoughts. Shide has no control over the CEO position; it's not a job he chose for himself, it's not what he wanted to do, he did it because of again his responsibility to his mother and family. Shide isn't the one who chose to disappear for 5 years in America; he again had no control over the situation because someone else was ill, and he had to be the one to help his family again become stable. And lastly, Shide isn't successful and as influential as he's sold his company to Shuyi's father, so he actually isn't in control of his position, of his life essentially. What Shuyi sees as control is unfortunate because it's actually Shide's sacrifice; he's had to lose what he actually wants to be in that position. All he's ever wanted is Shuyi. Ironic no?
Even in Season 1, when he seemed to be the one controlling the situation, he wasn't; he always did everything to get Shuyi, and for 8 years him being 'in control/winner' as Shuyi puts it wasn't him winning because he always didn't get Shuyi's heart before he confessed. And that's what's so heartbreaking about Shuyi's misunderstanding of Shide; when he first sees Shide in the past in his memories, he doesn't know the moment Shide fell for him; he just sees Shide winning over him, he doesn't even notice the first person who had control over the other was him, because he already took Shide's heart, trust and devotion. This is why Shide told him he was the lucky one; he was the one who was winning, who was always in control. Not Shide.
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Love and It’s Hold and Power
And again, although Shide is the one he thinks he's second-best to. Shuyi has a lot of power over everyone else since he was young. He's been a spoilt, rich boy who's had control over his friends (in a positive way like they felt they had to watch him and babysit him), he's had control due to his father's power, and he's had control now over Shide just due to again his father's job and his heritage. And I think that's why he can't stand the fact that no matter what he does when he's with Shide, he loses all of that power; he's reduced to wanting to do something for someone, like in season 1, washing the dishes, being humble, exposing his feelings to Shide so loudly and vulnerably. Shide is the only person who makes him want to do all that, and he hates it. It's why when the employees in episode 1 call him again Shide's girlfriend (even though literally Shide bending down to tie his laces is an act of losing control and him being in control of him), it bothers him because it makes him look weak. He's the one flustered by the actions; his heart is shaken by the movement. What he sees about Shide vs what's genuinely being shown/exposed is so opposite, so of course, they're more prone to misunderstandings because they've always both seen the situation very differently.
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So WBL has always been using this theme of Control vs Power with Shide and Shuyi. And how, because of love, both of them feel this lack of control over each other. Mostly from season 1, when Shide gets closer to Shuyi using the idea of rivalry to see who can win over each other, even though he gives in always to Shuyi on purpose. Shuyi's misunderstanding has always been an issue since episode 1, since even when Shide kissed him in the pool. This time around in season 2, we get to deal with the actual seriousness/reciprocation of what that misunderstanding and fear of lack of control can do to them. And how others can manipulate that (Shuyi's father probably). Either way, these twos relationship has become angst central because Shuyi really is fighting Mr second, he's determined this time not to lose to Shide no matter what and he's finally using like the last way he can possibly gain control over Shide. His body. The most vulnerable part of a person is exposed when they sleep with someone else; by getting Shide to even want to give in to him as he requested, he can expose everything about Shide, his weakness, his heart, his truths. Hence, it makes sense the relationship is using attraction and chemistry as a powerful tool for the storyline. Shuyi isn't going to be able to even go through with anything because he's just as vulnerable and weak with Shide as Shide is with him.
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I love angst, and I love power plays and fight for control in rivals to lovers stories. I love misunderstandings and requited, but they don't know the trope. I just really enjoy WBL, and I'm so excited to see what happens next. Looks like Shide is finally going to lose that façade he has on the surface once he breaks down under the influence of alcohol; probably, poor boy has been suffering so much. And I think both of them will soon need to gain control over their situation together so they can defeat the obstacles that come in the form of Shuyi's father, society, company issues etc. So yeh, I'm loving this, and it's such a breath of fresh air. Friday is too far away, sigh.
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s1nderella-a · 4 years ago
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jujutsu kaisen fic recs!
full fic rec list
ruin my life (make it alright again); aulente
itafushi au no curses | 12,721 words | 2/? chapters
summary:
“Thought you would greet me with the whole bad-guy spinning around in his chair petting his cat vibe. You really disappoint.”
Sukuna sighs.
“The orange jumpsuit would kinda take away the effect, don’t you think?”
Alternatively: Sukuna's never quite met someone like Itadori Yuuji or that green-eyed boy that's been pining for him since the beginning of time, and he'll be damned if he doesn't get to fuck with him before death row.
first love, late spring; cityboys
itafushi college au (one of my personal favs tbh it’s rlly good) | 49,888 words | 4/7 chapters
summary:
All it takes to dislodge the equilibrium of a non-relationship is a handmade cup, a pixelated screenshot, and Megumi's family.
cupid children; moshimo
sugusato taking care of kid megumi | 7,419 words | 1/1 chapters
summary:
Life is hard when you're Gojo Satoru, trying to juggle taking care of a kid that isn't actually yours and trying to ask your boyfriend out when he isn't actually your boyfriend.
the long con; lyrebirds
itafushi no curses au BRAINROT | 18,310 words | 2/8 chapters
summary:
"Are you asking me to be your fake boyfriend for Christmas?"
Fushiguro stares back, helpless. He thinks this might be the stupidest idea he's ever had. He thinks this might be the closest he's ever going to get to what he really wants. He says: "Yes. I'm asking. Will you be my boyfriend for Christmas?"
Itadori's face splits into a wide, bright smile. "Sure," he grins, like it's easy, like it's nothing. "Let's do it.”
A string of misunderstandings lead Fushiguro's entire family to believe that he's bringing a boyfriend home during the holiday season. Fushiguro does not have a boyfriend. The obvious, logical solution to this problem is to find someone willing to play the part, and then not fall in love with that someone along the way. Easy.
play in the pocket; mahadevi
HIGH SCHOOL AU ASF (mostly gen so far but if u rlly want to know the ships they r: nobara/mai & itadori/junpei/fushiguro) | 5,964 words | 1/? chapters
summary:
When Nobara said she wanted to experience an exciting city life, she meant like, have access to working public transportation. Or like, be able to visit more than the same two restaurants. Not "join a band with a bunch of delinquents in order to save themselves from expulsion and eternal social ostracization." And most certainly not "become the love guru to your three emotionally stunted and stupidly gay bandmates while also being trapped in an homosexually coded rivalry with the student council president who kind of hates your guts."
Seriously. She just wanted to go to Harajuku.
you’re a fool; rubbishben
sad sad sad itafushi + past sugusato | 3,429 words | 1/1 chapters
summary:
“-there has to be some other way?” finishes Gojou with an amused lilt that falls a little flat, to something doleful and humourless. “You’re in love with a dead man walking, Megumi.”
...after all, Gojou knows a thing or too about that himself.
In which the parallels between the two generations are strong, and the strongest sorcerer watches it unfold before his eyes like salt in a raw red wound that never fully healed.
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Note
Whump you say? Geralt gets Hanahaki
I’ve been waiting for you, Anon. I’ve been waiting for this prompt specifically and boy when I tell you I might have cried writing it...
2k ish (a little less) words long. Idk why y’all were worried, it’s me. It’s gonna have a happy ending.
tw: Hanahaki, blood mention, illness, angst with a happy ending, whump with a happy ending ---
It had started up just before they parted ways for the winter; Geralt had quietly coughed a handful of rose petals into the corner of his cloak and hidden them from sight as Jaskier gave him their yearly parting embrace. “See you in the spring, Geralt!”
“Hmm.”
You might not ever see me again, actually, the Witcher thought. He tried not to let anything show on his face; not his fear and certainly not his longing, but he ached to tell Jaskier that he loved him and that he’d miss the bard’s presence through the long and dreary cold of the winter months. Geralt also knew that if he told Jaskier the truth about his feelings that he may never set eyes on the bard again anyway, regardless of how the disease currently wracking his body developed over their time apart. He was sure that Vesemir could identify whatever the strange illness was; the old swordmaster might even have a cure ready to go in the old storeroom. If not, they could send for Triss. 
“Safe travels.”
“And you as well,” Geralt nodded curtly. He mounted Roach with all his usual grace and ease, biting back another cough and tasting the sickly sweet floral note of rose rising up his throat to coat his tongue again. 
---
“Fuck,” Vesemir sighed. “It’s Hanahaki disease, Geralt. It’s not going to be easy to cure now that the pass is full of snow.”
“What’s Hanahaki disease?”
“It’s-” the eldest Wolf Witcher scrubbed his hand over his bearded face and took a moment to compose himself. He’d seen it happen before. He’d seen human bodies buried in the ground with entire root systems crawling from their chest cavities. He’d watched young men and women alike cough entire violet or rose or daisy buds from their mouths while they shivered with fever and seemingly unending pain, but a Witcher? Vesemir hadn’t even thought it was possible for a Witcher to contract such a frivolously deadly illness. “I don’t know exactly how to explain this to you, Geralt.”
“I won’t go screaming into the hills, if that’s what you’re afraid of,” his middle-child joked, “I can’t run very far anymore without a coughing fit.”
“I can’t send for Triss or Yennefer, either. They won’t be able to do anything,” Vesemir spoke calmly and evenly. Geralt, propped against some pillows on adoptive-father-enforced bed rest raised an eyebrow. “It’s a disease that eats at you from the inside out. It latches on to, uhm, romantic feelings and grows with them until it overtakes its host completely. Or until the host, uh… confronts those feelings head on and admits them to the object of their affection.”
“So this is…” Geralt’s eyes were wide and terrified. The eldest Wolf had never seen the stoic boy look quite so scared before, and he’d seen him go through the Trials. “This is going to kill me, is what you’re saying.”
“Who are you in love with, you stubborn oaf!?” Lambert cried, marching into the room from where he’d been lurking in the hall. He startled the other two Wolves and Geralt coughed out another handful of petals. The blood that came with them was surprisingly new. 
“What do you mean!?”
“He means,” Vesemir said, as slowly as possible (so that even the great Geralt of Rivia would understand his situation), “That until you tell this person how you feel, the flowers inside you will continue to grow and dig their roots in and, if you never tell them how you feel at all, you will eventually die.”
“Then I guess my fate is sealed,” Geralt smiled sadly, settling himself back against the pillows. “My time as a Witcher is up. Coughing up flowers isn’t the worst way to go, all things considered.”
Lambert growled angrily. “I’m not ready to lose my brother yet, Geralt, so just tell us who you’re pining after and we’ll go fetch her back!”
“No.”
“Why the fuck not?!”
Geralt, growing increasingly more feverish and already exhausted from everything that had happened that afternoon, closed his eyes. “Because he deserves better than me, Lambert. He deserves so much more than I could ever give him and I’m not about to steal him away like a selfish ass and force my feelings onto him for my own sake. I’d rather die.”
“Self-sacrificing bastard,” the youngest of the Wolf Witchers snarled, storming from the room. “Ass! Cock! Fool!”
Vesemir could only nod his agreement and follow silently after.
---
Jaskier read the letter once.
Then he read it again.
After a third time through he was sure that he hadn’t misunderstood the contents.
Dear Jaskier (aka Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove, Prof. of the Seven Liberal Arts at Oxenfurt),
I am Eskel, brother to Geralt of the Wolf Witcher School at Kaer Morhen. I write to you now to ask for your presence at the keep. Geralt has fallen gravely ill and will not likely make it through the season. He does not know that I have written to you, but as his best friend and companion on the Path, I thought it my duty to invite you to see him one last time before he’s gone for good. He’s loathe to admit it, but he misses you and fears for your safety come springtime.
Sincerely,
Eskel of the Wolf School
Somewhere beneath the bright embroidery of his doublet and the hand-woven muslin of his chemise, Jaskier’s flighty, deeply-loving heart shattered into a million pieces. 
He grabbed his heaviest woolen cloak from its peg near the door and made for the stables at once.
---
“Geralt!”
The White Wolf opened his eyes a sliver to confirm that he wasn’t hallucinating again; ah yes. What a lovely last dream to have before I die. Standing in the middle of his bedroom at Kaer Morhen, covered with still-melting snow, was Jaskier. The bard’s blue eyes were brimming with tears and his bottom lip was wobbling violently as he gazed upon the Witcher’s withering form.
“Geralt, what’s wrong? Your father and brothers sort of explained it to me but I’m still not sure what’s happening. You’re dying?”
“Don’t worry, bard,” Geralt smiled. A loud, sudden cough wracked his body and he bent over double, spitting a blood-spattered but fully-bloomed rose out into his cupped palm. He laughed joylessly and tossed the bloom onto his bedside table. “I’ll be out of your hair, soon. Won’t this be a last ballad to write, a wolf dying as he’s eaten by flowers?”
“I don-”
“Hush,” Geralt rasped. Jaskier dropped his cloak to the ground uncaringly and rushed to his Witcher’s side. He sat on the edge of the mattress and took Geralt’s closest hand in his, grasping the appendage to his chest and sobbing into the sword-calloused skin like his tears might save his best friend’s life. “Don’t be sad, Jaskier.”
“I am sad, Geralt! I’m absolutely fucking terrified and heartbroken and crushed! Vesemir said you could heal this at any time but you just… you just won’t because you’re stubborn and an idiot and the sweetest goddamn man I’ve ever met in my life! How dare you tell me goodbye when you are perfectly capable of fixing this problem yourself! How could you promise to see me in the spring and then break your word by dying well before the grass turns green again?! You bastard!”
“You won’t miss me after another year passes,” Geralt reassured him, flexing the hand still held tight in Jaskier’s grip. “You won’t even remember me by the time the first daisies spring up.”
“How dare you,” the bard cried again. He pressed a nervous kiss to the tip of the Witcher’s pointer finger before letting go completely and dropping his head into his own hands. “How dare you say those things to me when you know full well that I love you with all my stupid, fragile mortal heart. You asshole.”
“Wh...what?” 
“I love you, Geralt!” The Witcher stared up at his friend with nothing but confusion written across his handsome features. Jaskier reached out, wiping a smear of blood away from the corner of Geralt’s mouth as tenderly as any maiden in any of the bard’s favorite romance novels. “I love you and I’ll never forgive you for letting yourself die on me like this.”
Geralt blushed. He stammered. He coughed up two or three more bloody roses and Jaskier tossed them all into the fire with rage blazing in his cornflower irises. 
“I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything on this gods-forsaken Continent and now you’re going to take yourself away because you’re, what, scared of something? Is it Yennefer? If she’s refusing to help you then I’ll ride all the way to Vengerberg by daybreak and then I’ll break all her fucking fi-”
“I love you, too.”
“What?” Jaskier asked, stopped mid-rant and mid-thought by the Witcher’s sudden admission. “What did you just say to me, Geralt? If I didn’t misunderstand, you said you loved me too.”
“I did. I do! I have loved you for a rather long time, actually.”
“Well, I’m glad we’ve settled that,” Vesemir said from the doorway. He turned on his heel and disappeared. “See you both for breakfast tomorrow, I’m sure. Well... maybe breakfast is being a bit optimistic. I’ll see you for lunch.”
“What did he mean?” the bard asked. His eyes flitted between the empty doorway and Geralt’s guilty grimace. “What the fuck did Vesemir mean when he said he’d see us at lunch?! You’re still clearly dying and I-”
Geralt felt his fever receding and coughed experimentally. There were only a few brown, half-dried petals that fell from his lips. No blooms. He coughed again and nothing came out of his mouth at all. He grinned and laughed, tugging Jaskier up onto the bed and against his broad chest. “Vesemir was right!”
“What the fuck is going on?!” the bard begged. His hands twisted into the neckline of Geralt’s shirt, holding him still and steady. Blue bore into gold with such heated intensity that the Witcher thought he might pass out regardless of his recently healed disease, “What just happened!?”
“I- I told you I loved you and it cured the Hanahaki!”
“You had fucking Hanahaki and I was the cause of it? Oh Geralt, I’m so sorry! I should have noticed sooner! I should hav- Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”
“I didn’t think you loved me back.”
“You didn- Geralt, have you been paying any sort of attention for the past seven or so years? I follow you everywhere, I bandage your wounds, I put food on your plate and a pillow under your head whenever we get the chance. I bathe you and mend your clothes when your fingers are too stiff from practicing your forms to do it yourself… you utter fool. You buffoon. You great, dumb, goofy, idioti-”
He was cut off by Geralt bringing their mouths together with such gentle but insistent pressure that all Jaskier could do was melt against him. His hands unwound from the shirt and stabilized against the Witcher’s pectorals instead. He sighed into Geralt’s mouth, swallowing down the happy sounds his dearest Witcher made in return. When they were finished pouring out their affections they sat, breathless, curled against the pillows of Geralt’s enormous bed. 
A large pointer finger slipped beneath Jaskier’s chin and tilted his face up, locking their gazes, “This isn’t how I wanted you to meet my family or see Kaer Morhen for the first time, but I’m glad you came. I know the journey through the snow couldn’t have been easy, even though I’m sure there was some magical assistance.”
“For you, my love, I’d travel the pass barefoot.”
“You’d die of exposure.”
“Not if your life was on the line,” the bard murmured against those flower-chapped lips. “For you, Geralt, I could survive anything. Just as you must swear from this moment on to survive whatever you can to make it back to me.”
“Will you go back to the academy until spring?”
“I’m never leaving your side again, Geralt of Rivia. Come flora or fauna, you’re stuck with me for good.”
“Hmm. Good.”
“Just… Just don’t bring me flowers any time soon.”
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