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#t-t he's also considerate WHAT IS WRONG WITH HIM
gojoest · 11 months
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ok i am finally home and it’s STORYTIME WITH THE WAITER !! *rubs hands together* long post btw my thoughts are very hectic i am sleep deprived and hungover so excuse me t-t
so last night we went to this place with 2 of my coworkers (that are also close friends of mine) — it’s a club restaurant actually, the music is chill and not so loud until about 10-10:30pm so you can eat and chat with friends and then after that it’s showtime (hot men put on a show, they dance and strip, the latter is not that hardcore btw). turns out they organize different shows every night so it’s not always that. ANYWAY, we had a waitress assigned to our table but the place was so full and she was busy running around catering to everyone so instead of waiting i asked the waiter in question for the menu :3 so he brought us 3 and was like “sorry my coworker is very busy, if she can’t handle all her tables i will gladly take care of you tonight”. guys he is super cute i tell you, he’s got that big smile on his face all the time and a super positive energy flowing from him + he jokes around with ease and just seems to be so easygoing and friendly and i find that so attractive NOT TO MENTION he is very handsome and has a beard!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! sadly though he didn’t end up taking our table bc the waitress made it work somehow, she was super lovely btw <3 he was constantly passing by our table though and we both shamelessly stared at each other every time lmao
anyway as the night went on and we downed 4 bottles of wine and started dancing my mischievous coworkers invited him to our table for a bit and he did not decline even though he was working, he just casually sat down with us and behaved like we’ve always known each other ajksdskas. so we poured him a glass of wine, said cheers and then danced a bit AND THEN t-t my coworker took an empty water bottle and spun it on the floor (do you see where i am going) and it ended up pointing towards me and the waiter t-t and that same coworker was like “you have to kiss her now, these are the rules” and i was like :0 just standing there like :0 what :0 what :0 he then came to me and looked me in the eyes and put his hands on my cheeks but didn’t kiss me immediately, i think he was waiting for my reaction like i’m going give you 3 secs to push me away if you don’t want to but ofc I DID WANT TO KISS HIM so we in fact kissed.
after we were done kissing my coworker literally placed the bottle between us again, didn’t spin it this time just put it there between us like ok round 2 now, keep going KSJHDKSJSAA and he looked at me and was like “how about you kiss me this time” with a smug smile. part of me wanted to slap him but a bigger part of me wanted to keep kissing him so that’s that sigh we kissed again. HE IS SUCH A GOOD KISSER it’s not my fault :/
later we had some time to chat and exchange numbers etc.. and im glad we did bc i wanted to apologize to him for what my friends pulled with that orchestrated spin the bottle. and he was like “i am very content things turned out that way actually and i hope you don’t mind it either, and also — i hope you are single too” <- he looked so cute saying this that i ended up kissing him again help. then we talked some more and kissed some more. around 3:30am we had to leave bc we had work in like a few hours so i called a taxi and he waited with me outside even though he was still at work (i hope he did not get in trouble for that + spending a lot of time with us t-t) and then opened the car door for me and told me to text him when i get home t-t but i forgot bc i was a bit drunk and all i wanted to do was sleep right away so i just passed out. BUT HE CALLED ME and was like you home safe? and i was like yep yepp !! then i saw that he texted me a few times to check on me and maybe got worried that i did not reply so he called t-t
today he kept texting me all day casually updating me on how his day is going + asking questions about my day and etc. he sent me a selfie in the morning and was like “ok since you’re not drunk anymore can you please look at me and confirm that you still like me” LMAO he is so !! doki doki !! makes me laugh a lot but also i want to punch him sometimes bc he’s so smug but then again i can’t bc he’s also very cute and pretty t-t anyway i shall keep you updated on mr waiter v_v WAIT actually he’s also an engineer but works as a waiter too + he’s a foreigner but has been living here for a long time, knows the language fluently and has the cutest tiny accent when saying certain words IT’S SO CUTE anyway i need to take a shower now i am so tired t-t
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ashfae · 1 year
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The thing about romance is, it makes a good story.
As soon as Neil described season 2 as "quiet, gentle, romantic" I figured we'd be in for it, because as he's the first to point out, writers are liars. And the best way to deceive is with truth.
Season 2 is romantic. The trappings of romance are everywhere. Crowley tries to set up Nina and Maggie by trapping them under an awning during a rainstorm, a classic cinematic bonding technique. Aziraphale's chosen method comes from his beloved books: the ball, the dancing, appearing as a pair in public, hands held as you twirl gracefully with your heart thrilled and racing. If they can set up a sensational kiss that will unlock the happy ever after. They've lived on earth, they've studied the tropes, they know how romance works.
The problem is a story is only a story.
Nina and Maggie had the classic romantic setup completely by accident before Aziraphale and Crowley ever began trying to interfere with them. They get locked in Nina's coffeeshop. They can't escape or communicate with anyone else, they end up talking by candlelight because there's no electricity, Nina offers wine. Maggie mentions how she'd hoped for a chance to talk to Nina, and now here they are. It's every bit as much a standard as what Aziraphale and Crowley attempt to arrange. Blanket scenarios galore exist because of that starting point. We love that story. And there's nothing wrong with that.
But it's still only a story, it's not enough. Because once that moment of connection is over, however lovely it was, all the rest of the world comes flooding back in in the form of dozens of angry text messages. Nina's messy entrapping relationship hasn't magically gone away just because she and Maggie shared a romantic encounter.
And it's so tempting think oh well, that's easy. We'll just give them more romantic encounters and eventually those will overwhelm the rest of the baggage. Must do, because it'll make them fall in love, and once they realize they're in love that trumps all other considerations, right? So it'll be fine. Love Conquers All.
Neil also mentioned Pride and Prejudice.
Darcy knows he's in love early on and makes a disasterous proposal that shows that he has no understanding of Elizabeth's perspective, possibly hasn't even thought about it. They've been meeting in forest lanes for walks, conversing, had tete-a-tetes in the sitting room, danced at a ball. And while his turn of phrase isn't as flattering as he thinks, he's still offering her everything he thinks she wants and needs: affection, security, his good name, wealth, an escape from the embarrassments of her situation, the world. How can there be anything to object to? Why would anyone ever refuse so much of value?
Elizabeth quite rightly cuts him to pieces. He lashes back with a few hard truths of his own and they separate. During that separation, he thinks and he learns. He takes to heart the criticisms she offered, re-examines his assumptions, opens his eyes. Thinks about her perspective and how sometimes the only difference between pride and arrogance is where you're standing. He does the work. When they meet again he tries to demonstrate that he's learned--not in order to court her again (yet), but because the only real apology he can offer, the only one that would have weight, is to show that he's grown, he listened to her. He changed.
Elizabeth of course has her own journey, accepting that many of her own conclusions about Darcy were erroneous because they were formed without her having the full picture to hand, and once she's done that she has to apply it to her own situation as well. She loves her family, but they do place her at a disadvantage on a number of levels, leading eventually to full-out disaster as her younger sister carelessly ruins all of their reputations. It's hard to admit, it's mortifying, but Darcy was offering her a great deal she needs. His offer did have worth for all that she dismissed it as an insult. And as she learns to value his own character more highly, and then as she sees that he did listen to her even though she insulted him so thoroughly...well, she grows too. And when they do eventually come together it's not because of courting and balls. There's a big romantic gesture in his rescue of her sister but even that isn't why they'll get their happy ever after. It was just the catalyst for the conversation. They win because they've learned how to understand each other and how to communicate for the future. How they can strengthen and support each other, how to balance their strengths and weaknesses. The films leave them at the wedding, but the book shows a bit of their marriage too, and during it they keep learning from each other. Their relationship is held up as a superior love story for good reasons.
The end of season one was romantic too. Crowley stopped time rather than face a world where Aziraphale would never speak to him again, Aziraphale walked into hell to protect Crowley, they dined at the Ritz and toasted the world. But then they stopped. Sure they spent time together, talked, enjoyed each other's company. But if they were talking about important things would Crowley still be living in his car? They had a bit of respite but all that real world baggage that exists outside of the romantic moment hasn't been faced, none of it. Four or five years sounds like a long while but for beings who are quite literally older than the earth? That's just an intermission.
Nina's relationship ends, leaving her with a tangled mess; Maggie realises the sweet dream of love she's been longing for isn't as important as the real Nina. They talk. They plan. Nina will sort through her life, get closure, figure out what went wrong with Lindsay and what she wants from a relationship, learn how to ask for respect instead of just bending under her partner's demands. Maggie will support Nina the way Nina needs, which sometimes means helping her get oat milk for the shop and sometimes means giving her processing space. They're on the same page; they're going to do the work. That's why most likely they'll succeed. To quote one of my favourite fanfics: it's not happily ever after, but it's a chance. It's all going to be okay. (The Profane Comedy by Mussimm, who absolutely nailed this theme)
The romance is nice, it's lovely. We need it to keep ourselves going. To give ourselves the dreams that help us get through the days and nights. But it's not the relationship. It's not enough on its own. The wedding can be the grandest most beautiful ceremony ever with doves flying and sweeping music and bells ringing, but that doesn't guarantee the marriage will last.
Crowley and Aziraphale have had their romantic gestures, oodles of them. One wing raised to protect the other from falling stars, another from rain. Shared ground, shared interests, hands offered in friendship and held on a bus. They've tried to get to the same page, they really have. They just aren't there yet. The biggest most important things still haven't been talked about, and season 2 showed there are even more of those big important things than we'd realised.
The show paints Maggie as Aziraphale's foil and Nina as Crowley's, even to the point of Nina casually calling Maggie 'angel'. But Aziraphale's baggage is Nina's. The toxic relationship has to be processed and understood and closed, and it hasn't been, despite season one. Lindsay never really liked Nina very much, for all that they tried to keep her trapped; Heaven never really liked Aziraphale very much for all that he believed in it. They both let themselves be used. But Lindsay left Nina and went to their sister's, whereas now the head of Heaven has reached out to Aziraphale and said here, we can fix this, you can fix this, don't you want to fix this? Others are already writing about that and maybe I'll add to it later, not sure. And Crowley, like Maggie, has had a sweet dream that he has to set aside. Maybe he'll be able to pick it up again eventually, maybe not. But sometimes you offer support by buying oat milk or rescuing your beloved from the legions of hell, and sometimes you do it by standing back while they sort through their shit.
Quiet, gentle, romantic. It was.
But that's only part of the story. Now they have to do the work. They thought they had, but they were wrong, because there's so much they just hadn't touched yet and tried to cover over with relief and sleight of hand and alcohol and forgiveness. The apology dance doesn't mean much without showing that you listened and learned. They've faced so much trauma already and that should have been enough, we wanted it to be enough and so did they and it's such a blow for it to turn out that there's still more to do, that the baggage hasn't just gone away and can't be hidden under blankets or soothed with cocoa. The texts are still coming in and demanding answers.
But it'll be okay. It will. It's still a chance. And one that in the long run makes them better, builds something real that lasts.
The best stories, the ones that last longest and become classics, are the ones that don't end with the kiss under the awning or the blanket scenario or the wedding. They're the ones that heal us while the characters heal themselves. It's hard to accept that there's still more to do. Harder to imagine how it can possibly work out. And yes, bloody frustrating to wait and see.
And we'll get through that interim by telling even more stories. Because the story is never just a story. It's how we get through the work, it's what we tell ourselves so we can do the damn work. Stories are what we cling to and how we remind ourselves we're human and connect. A book is a person you can carry with you. We're not alone, none of us, stories connect us because we love them and see ourselves in them, which means we see each other.
Aziraphale's back up in Heaven to deal with his unfinished baggage; Crowley left his behind long ago and it's clearly going to come back and bite him in the arse however much he tries to go his own way. And they can't help each other with that. Not yet.
But they'll get there. So will we.
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kkvqwrites · 1 year
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Bedside Manner
Reader goes into labor while Simon's away and calls the first person she can think of. The task force (and some other friends in high places) rally around the couple on the most important day of their lives.
Word Count: 2,587
Characters (in order of appearance): fem!Reader (no use of y/n), Capt. John Price, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Kate Laswell
CW: childbirth, hospital setting, medical procedures
A/N: Am I a Ghost girlie? Absolutely. Am I also a sucker for the found family trope? Til I die. This idea wouldn't leave me alone and I'm so glad I stuck with it. I love the way this came out and hope you like it!
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"Dear? Everything okay?"
The captain's voice on the other end of the line sounded worried. Both he and Simon had drilled it into you to never hesitate to call Price if you needed anything while your husband was away, but you couldn't help feeling a bit guilty.
"Um, I think so," you began, willing your voice to stay level and upbeat. "I think I just - oof.." Another contraction hit, stealing the air from your lungs. They were coming more consistently now, and hard enough to stop you in your tracks.
This could not be happening.
"What's wrong? Are you alright? Are you hurt?" You could hear movement in the background, him gathering his things to be out the door and on his way to you.
"I'm fine, John. I just didn't know who else to call. I think the baby might be coming?" The words came out pinched as you worked through the tail end of the contraction. The captain swore loudly.
"Stay put, love. I'm on the way - everything will be alright. Want me to stay on the phone with you?"
"No, no, that's fine. Stay safe and I'll see you when you get here." You hung up before he could argue and fuss like a mother hen.
______________________________________________________________
The knock at the door startled you. You looked at the clock - surely that couldn't be John already. The man lived across town. Not trusting yourself to make it to the door, you called out.
"It's open!"
Turns out it wasn't Price, but Gaz, who stepped into your living room and began taking in the scene. It was a sight to be sure: you, doubled over sitting on your yoga ball, rocking back and forth to try to alleviate some of the pressure in your hips, towel around your neck because you were sweating like a pig, ambient white noise filtering through the bluetooth speaker to keep you calm. For all his usual swagger and poise, Gaz looked a bit frightened.
"Kyle, did John call you? I'm so sorry - I'm sure you were busy-"
"Not at all, I rushed over as soon as I got word." The sergeant came to your side and knelt until he was eye level. "The captain's on his way but I was closer. We didn't want you to be alone any longer than necessary."
"You and your task force are worse than a quilting circle." The jab came with a joking smile, but the smile was cut short by the stab of another contraction. At the sight of your face screwing up in pain, Kyle's eyes got big.
"Can I do something? Do you need anything?" He wrung his hands as he fussed, seemingly unsure whether to touch you or whether you'd bite him if he tried. Admittedly, you weren't too sure yourself.
"Need you to reset - the timer." The words came out through clenched teeth as your muscles tensed and screamed. "Contractions - need to time them."
"The timer - right." He sprung into action, undoubtedly happy to have a defined task to accomplish. As he was fiddling with the device, Price stormed through the door, his demeanor all-business.
"Gaz? What's the situation?" The sergeant hopped to attention as if he was at roll call.
"Got here not long ago myself, Cap. Just reset the timer for contractions."
"Where are we at?"
"Thirteen minutes, sir."
The captain turned to you, assessing you from top to bottom. His expression and his voice softened considerably as he spoke.
"Ready to get to the hospital, love?"
"Can't - they told me to wait until they're five minutes apart." The man looked bewildered.
"And just let you sit here and suffer? Not on my watch. Gaz, grab my keys - "
"John," you interrupted. "I already called. They won't admit me yet. We just need to wait it out."
"Nonsense, love. You wait til I get someone's ear over there. Five minutes my arse." He moved to help you stand, but stopped in his tracks as he took in your face, your lip trembling. "Is there something else?" As if on cue, a fat tear rolled down your cheek, the first of its kind since the pains began.
"This isn't supposed to be happening," you squeaked out. "Not for a few more weeks. Simon's supposed to be here."
The men shared a glance, looking stricken. Price leaned down next to you, a broad hand gently squeezing your shoulder. His voice was soft when he spoke, a renewed slowness replacing his prior rushed pace.
"I know, love. I know it's not ideal, and I know you're scared. I know Simon would give anything to be here, that he'd split heaven and earth to be with you right now. But I also know he'd want you and your little one taken care of, yeah? He wouldn't want you to wait."
You nodded, despite more tears threatening. "Doesn't change the fact they won't admit me yet."
The captain's mouth quirked defiantly. "You let me worry about that. Gaz, help her up. I'll drive."
______________________________________________________________
Simon was tired down to his bones, feeling like a wrung out rag after the most recent mission. Despite that, the man was a ball of energy as he hopped off the plane, desperate to get back to you.
"Someone's antsy," Soap drawled, taking a more leisurely pace. He slid his sunglasses on as Simon switched on his cell phone anxiously. "Got somewhere to be, LT?"
"'Matter of fact I do - home." Simon impatiently hiked his duffel bag higher on his shoulder. "See my wife, eat a real meal. Finally build that godforsaken changing table. Who knew a baby needs so much furniture?"
Soap barked a laugh, but Simon tuned him out as he put his phone to his ear. He'd gotten a voicemail from you, and everything else ceased to matter.
"Hey babe, it's me. I'm not sure when you'll get this, and I hate to worry you. I'm sure it's fine. It's just... I've been feeling some contractions-"
Simon didn't hear the rest, nearly dropping his phone as he broke into a run.
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True to his word, Price argued with the hospital staff until you were taken up to a room. You were sure he must have pulled rank, threatened to call people, but he refused to let you worry about it.
The ride had been smooth, despite John driving like a bat out of hell. Gaz stayed in the back seat with you, clinging to your hand and fussing. Later, you'd think it was funny how he seemed to need more encouragement and support than he offered, but at that moment very little was funny.
You had been able to stay in denial for an admirably long time. The past few days, you were able to tell yourself it was just Braxton-Hicks contractions, not the real thing. That even when it became evident the real thing was starting, that it wouldn't progress quickly. That even though it was progressing, that Simon would walk in the door just at the right moment and sweep you into the car and off to the hospital and all would be well. Even when your gut told you to pick up the phone and call the captain, you had managed to make yourself believe that you were wrong, that it was a false alarm, that you still had more time.
Now, here you were, connected to monitors and being poked and prodded by nurses. Medical history, allergies, birth plan, you felt like you were in interrogation rather than a patient receiving care. And if it wasn't the nurses it was the two men standing off to the side, one wringing his hands in worry and one watching the nurses like a hawk and barking questions. The contractions were closer to eight minutes apart now, progressing quickly. Now the situation was very real, and as thankful as you were from the support from Price and Gaz, your heart threatened to shatter at the absence of the one person who mattered most.
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"Bloody fuckin' hell, no one will answer their phone!" Ghost barked, ready to throw his out the window. He'd had radio silence other than a second voicemail, this one from the Captain:
"Simon, Price here. Just got word from the missus that the baby's on the way. I'm headed there now. I don't want you to worry about a thing, I won't leave her side. I'll update you as I'm able."
"She knew to call the captain; he's probably with her now," Soap offered from the driver's seat. He'd practically had to arm wrestle Simon for the keys, but ended up convincing him that he'd be able to call for updates if he wasn't worried about driving. Silently, he thanked the saints Simon had agreed; who knows what carnage he'd unleash on the roads as worked up as he was.
"He better be, or I'll - not now, Laswell!" Simon rejected the third call from the station chief since landing and tried Price again. He was sure he'd hear about it for skipping debrief and jumping in the car, but right now he couldn't bring himself to give a shit. When Price's phone again went to voicemail, he was about to go nuclear when the car's Bluetooth lit up with Laswell's number.
"Shite; let me answer it LT." Soap pushed the button. "Laswell, it's Soap. Here with Ghost."
"I know," she said impatiently, her voice filling the space. "I've been trying to call all afternoon. I know what's happening and I'm here to help."
"What? How do you know?"
"Price called me as soon as he got word, asked me to find you. Anyway, you're wasting time heading in that direction; there's a lane closure ahead and you're about to be neck deep in traffic. I've mapped an alternate route for you. Take the next left."
The two men looked at each other in confusion before both starting to speak at the same time.
"Left? That takes us the wrong way-" "How do you know where we're at?"
"Boys! Boys, listen," she continued, exasperated. "Don't worry about how I know, just do as I say. We're gonna get you there as fast as possible. Now turn left!"
Soap cut the car to the left, ignoring the indignant honks of other drivers as he began to cut through the city under Laswell's watchful eye.
______________________________________________________________
"The doctor says you'll be ready to start pushing soon. How are you feeling?" The nurse was genuinely trying to be nice, so you bit back on your retort of how the fuck does it look like I'm feeling? My insides are exploding! and instead chose a weak smile and a head nod.
Once the nurse whisked away, Price was back at your side. You could tell by his expression he wanted to give you a pep talk like you were one of his soldiers about to head into battle, but he was searching for the right thing to say. You broke the silence first.
"I'm scared." Your voice sounded small, the words escaping almost of their own volition. The captain took your hand, blessedly avoiding sugarcoating the situation.
"I know. But you're doing great - a real trooper. Even with the needle in the back! Simon's gonna be so proud of you, love. And Gaz and I are gonna be right here. Right Gaz?"
"Right, Cap." The sergeant slid back into the room, cup of ice in hand. While the captain had taken point and begun advocating for you with the hospital staff and asking a million questions, Gaz had been dutifully making sure you were comfortable. Anything from getting you an extra pillow for your back, to helping you tie your hair back, to getting you ice chips since you couldn't have food or drink during labor, he was on it. If either man was uneasy about what was about to happen, they dutifully kept it under wraps and maintained their game faces.
One by one, the care team took up positions around you to get started. Price and Gaz got next to you, each taking one of your hands, ready to offer what support they could. You shamed yourself, one last time, for being ungrateful for their presence. A lot of people give birth with less, you tried to tell yourself. He’d be here if he could. 
 The doctor walked in, donning gloves and getting a quick status update from one of the nurses before meeting your eyes. “Evening, ma’am. We’re going to-” 
Her words were cut off by a commotion in the hall, a door slamming and what sounded like some raised voices. Everyone in the room exchanged confused glances, and Price motioned for Gaz to go investigate. He poked his head out into the hall for only a moment before returning with a big grin.
“You’re not gonna believe who’s here."
Then your husband was in the doorway, and then he was at your side, and suddenly those honey brown eyes drowned out every ounce of pain and fear you’d been holding onto, and that warm, calloused hand took yours, and you were ready.
______________________________________________________________
You would have thought it would be difficult to fall asleep under fluorescent lights, with monitors beeping and staff bustling around. But you had never known tiredness like this, and wanted to take the nurse’s advice and rest while the pain meds were still working their magic. The delivery had been uneventful once the show was on the road, and Simon never left your side, his steady presence grounding and his voice in your ear keeping you calm. Then there she was, a baby girl, the most precious tiny thing you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d stared at her and cried for hours, stroking her tiny hand and welcoming her to the world until you could barely keep your eyes open. And so, with a squeeze of your hand and a kiss on your forehead from Simon, you found yourself drifting off. You were aware, as you floated off, of his slow pacing back and forth with your newborn daughter in his arms, of his whispers to her that were too low for you to hear. Of the guys popping in, as unobtrusively as possible lest the lieutenant tear them limb from limb for disturbing you and the baby, bringing him food and coffee and admiring the bundle of joy.
“Doesn’t look a thing like you, Simon,” said Soap.
“Thank God for that,” he replied.
“You should have seen it, Simon really - needle this long, right in the spine!” Price remarked, not for the first time. “She didn’t even flinch.”
“I’m just glad you made it for the gross stuff,” mumbled Gaz.
“Kyle, you’re in the military. You’ve seen arms and legs blown off.”
“Completely different, Johnny. Not the same at all.”
On and on they bantered, brothers in arms stepping into their role as uncles for your baby girl with delight. One of the last things you heard was Simon, his voice thick with emotion.
“Thank you, all of you, for being here. For today.”
“Oh come off it Simon,” replied the Captain. “These girls mean something to you, so they mean something to us. That’s what a family is. Now quit hogging her and let Uncle John have a turn.”
You wouldn’t remember this conversation when you woke up, wouldn’t be able to articulate where it came from, but you’d carry with you the bone-deep feeling of connection with this little makeshift family forever.
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astroboots · 8 months
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Kiss Me Again
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CO-WRITTEN WITH @THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMSS
Summary: You discover that Marc has a thing for lipstick
Content: Marc blushing -- Oh mai, domestic shenanigans, lotsa yearning, creampie, explicit sex babeh.
Credit: Inspired form Leslie's gorgeous Love Mark series and in particular this beautiful image. Part of the @moonknight-events Bingo scorecard Challenge: Morning After.
Word count: 3.5k
ASTROBOOT’S MASTERLIST | THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMS’ MASTERLIST |MOON KNIGHT MASTERLIST
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There is something about waking up in the morning to the sight of Marc standing in the kitchen.
The sight of that wide back turned to you. His firm shoulders fill out that t-shirt oh-so-perfectly, and you can make out the rounded curve of his bum practically bursting out of his jeans. The familiar rigid stiffness that is stitched into every nook and cranny of his frame while he's standing in front of the stove cooking you breakfast.
It's Sunday today, which means the familiar warm and breadlike smell of pancakes permeates the attic flat. It also means that Marc has let you sleep in.
God, what time is it?
Judging from the brightness of the sun, blinding your eyes, he must've let you sleep in late.
You glance at your wristwatch on the bedside table, squinting your eyes to make out the time.
Fuck! Eleven Twenty-Seven?!?!
You grumble, dragging yourself out of bed, grabbing the neatly folded clothes next to you and pulling them on haphazardly. "Why didn't you wake me? It's nearly noon."
Marc is unmoved by your accusatory tone. He flips the pan with a flashy move, flinging the pancake into the air before catching it with ease, right back into the pan.
"You were tired from last night."
He doesn't turn around, but you don’t need to catch the expression on his face when you can hear the playful smirk in his voice.
And he's not wrong. Marc did wear you out last night. The soreness between your thighs as you're making your way to him would prove as much. As does the state of the bed and its rumpled sheets.
You're practically hobbling your way to the kitchen when you  finally manage to join him and perch yourself on a stool near the counter.
From the corner of your eye, Marc turns ever so slightly until you finally catch the amused wry quirk of his lips in person.
"What?"
He doesn't answer you. Just slides the pancake onto a plate, pouring in more batter into the pan, before he brings your plate over to you. Then he looks at you with that same amused expression.
"What is it?" you ask again. Have you suddenly grown horns on your head? Why is he looking at you like that.
Your confusion only adds to his amusement. A huff (that is borderline a laugh) escapes him as he looks at you with a fond expression.
"You're a mess."
Wow. Rude.
You shake your head, your boyfriend never was known for his manners... This boyfriend at least. Steven has the manners of an angelic saint.
Scanning the space, you spot your handbag that's conveniently sitting on the counter and reach for the small pocket mirror, flicking it open.
A deranged Alice Cooper impersonator looks back at you. Mascara running halfway down your face.
Shit.
Okay, Marc might have a point. Your hair looks like a runaway freight train blazed through it, mascara has run halfway down your face, and your lipstick is smeared all over, vivid red splotches and smears dotting your chin and cheeks. How did you even manage that?
You grab a wad of face wipes to take care of the worst of it. Then you glance back up at Marc. He is in considerably much better shape than you are. Hair combed back, already dressed in his regular t-shirt, with his grey jacket and fitted jeans like it's his designated uniform.
That's Marc for you. Unfazed. Un-rumpled. Untouchable. 
Your Mr. Tidy, who needs everything to be in its proper place, no matter the time and place. It leaves you craving to achieve the unachievable, to make a mess of him.
Always put together. Always in control. Always has the upper hand on you.
Well… Your eyes drift to his honed cheeks and you can't help but grin at the sight. Almost always.
Today, there's a chink in his tidy armour. A red smear on his throat, matching the ones you just removed from your own face. Unsurprising perhaps, given the way you mauled this throat last night.
"You're a mess too," you counter.
He tilts his head questioningly, and you flip the mirror back at him to let him see the damage. 
You expect him to frown. Expect him to grumble and reach for a wipe or scrub off the offending mess with the back of his hand. 
Marc does none of that. Instead he freezes, eyes growing wide as he just stares into your pocket mirror. 
You don't know how long he just stays like that, frozen in place, and you can practically see the little spinning wheel icon indicating that he brain has stalled out over this new input. It’s fascinating. You have half a mind to just leave him be, curious to see how long it takes his mind to reboot, but then you smell something off in the kitchen. Burnt, like smoke.
"Uhm, Marc? I think... the pancakes are burning."
That snaps him right out of it. 
"Shit!" 
He leaps into action. In a split of a second, Marc is back at the stove, yanking the offending pan off the heat. He seems a bit off kilter, grumbling to himself as he carries the whole thing to the bin and starts scraping the burnt remains of charcoal pancake off. 
The whole scene takes you aback. You don't think you've ever seen Marc just freeze like that. What could have happened?
Was it the mirror? Mirrors serve as a neat conduit for communication between the boys. Perhaps Steven or Jake said something that distracted him? 
You watch as he moves back to the sink without so much as a glance in your direction.  Hoping for some insight you hop off the stool and walk up next to Marc, but he stiffens unexpectedly at your presence, ducking his face towards the sink, and avoiding your gaze.
Something is off with him. Something is definitely wrong... and-- 
You don’t see it at first. His head is tilted down, casting a shadow over his cheeks, but you think you see… 
Wait wait wait. Is Marc... blushing? 
You lean in closer, peering over his shoulder to stare at his face. 
"This is distracting. I'm trying to clean," he mutters, tilting his face away from you.
Oh wow!
He is! 
Marc is blushing! 
Your veins buzz at the revelation. You're so excited by this new development, you don't even connect the dots at first.
He's blushing! Why is he blushing? God knows!
But it’s adorable! You need to know how to make this happen again.
Mirror. You need to get the mirror– Or wait, no. That doesn't make any sense does it? It's not the mirror that made him blush, why would it?
You retrace your step. Not the mirror, must've been something he saw in the mirror. It could have been something Steven or Jake said, but…
You think back to the night before. The way Marc’s dark eyes had gone darker, deep and bottomless, as he watched you get ready to go out. The way his eyes never left your face as you talked, always circling back to… your lips.
Excited to test your new theory, you leave Marc at the sink and head for the corner of the counter where you left your bag, fishing around until you can locate the tube of lipstick. 
Yanking off the cap, you nearly end up mashing the red tip with how hard you press it on your lips. That done, you recap the tube and drop it back into the depths of your handbag, and rejoin Marc at the stove where he’s already poured another round of batter into the newly cleaned pan.
He's not looking up at you, eyes glued to the bubbling forming on the half-cooked pancake with strained concentration. But you bet you can change that now that you know what you know.
You tip-toe forward, reaching up to press your lips square centre on his cheek. You keep the contact soft and brief. Just enough pressure that you can make sure you've marked him in red with the shape of your lips.
Marc freezes again bound in shock. His eyes are so startlingly wide, for a moment you could almost mistake him for Steven.
Bingo.
You're grinning so widely it almost physically hurts. "Sorry, I think I got some lipstick on you."
He doesn't respond. If you didn't know better you'd think you'd turn him into stone with that small kiss. But you can see the way his fingers are wrapped so tight around the handle of the pan, the cast iron could crumble from the pressure. 
Oh my, this is fun.
Leaning up you do it again. Pressing your lips to his cheek again, inches from where you had before, just as soft. Just as brief, and watch the red mark join the other one.
Marc tenses up all over again. Slowly but surely, you see that gorgeous crimson spread across his cheeks. It's a fascinating sight. And god, it makes you want to paint every inch of his skin in lipstick red, like a blank colouring book.
It takes him entirely too long before he gathers himself again. Eyes blinking rapidly like trying to wake himself from a drunken stupor, before shock is replaced by that familiar grumpy scowl.
"I'm–" he pauses to clear his throat, "I’m trying to make breakfast here."
"So do it," you respond cheekily, leaning in to kiss him again, "Don't let me stop you"
You keep pressing little kisses to his skin, leaving red lip prints all over and delighting in the fact that his face gets hotter with each one. More than a little bit smug to see the pink flush deepen and spread over his cheeks and down his throat.
For once, Marc-nothing-can-faze-me-Spector is struggling to keep his cool, and you are taking entirely too much joy in being the cause of that. 
You reach up again, hands cupping his cheeks to tilt him to your mouth and press a kiss against his lips until they are stained bright lipstick red. 
Marc remains still, but you can feel the frustration vibrating off the surface tension of his skin.
This time he lets go of the pan, and it clatters loudly back onto the stove. 
You step back to the sight of that familiar irritated glare in his eyes even as he's blushing an unfamiliar bright barbie pink on his cheeks. His thumb hovering over his lipstick smeared bottom lip. 
At first you think he's going to wipe it away. He doesn't. Instead his thumb just lingers over the mark, hand trembling slightly.
"Stop teasing," he grumbles.
It’s meant to be a warning, you’re sure, but all you feel is excitement of what's to come.
There's a saying isn't there? About not poking a bear with a stick. Except in that scenario it’s because you don't want to anger it and have it maul you, and in the present, that's exactly what you want from Marc. 
You step in close again, tilting your face up to deliver another kiss.
All you can hear is a low growl, and then Marc is moving. His hand comes to the back of your neck and reels you into him, so close you can feel the embarrassed heat radiating from his cheek as if it were your own. 
Then his lips are on yours, and joy and love surge through you, blending in a dizzying concoction that makes your surroundings spin. 
You expect his kiss to be harsh and hungry, but Marc continues where you left off, pressing gentle, nearly chaste kisses to your lips over and over again. 
It could almost be innocent if it weren't for the way he's panting against your lips. The way his strong arm wraps around your waist. The way his fingers dig into your hip as he drags your hips against his, crushing you against him until you can feel him—all of him, the length of him hot and hard against your stomach—even through his jeans. 
His hand slides down over your hip to your thigh, one firm palm gripping and lifting to hook your leg over one side of his wide hips so he can grind against you. It's desperate and frenzied, the bulge of his cock slotting perfectly between your legs. Pressing forward until you’re so close that you can feel it jerking against you with each shuddering roll of his hips.
And through it all, he kisses and kisses and kisses you, gentle presses that grow just a little bit harder with each one. It sparks through your veins like an ember, heady and sweet until you think you could melt from it.
His lips drag against your own until finally, he parts them. The slight edge of his teeth nipping at your bottom lip, like he wants to devour you whole. 
And you'd let him. You’d let him bite in and swallow every morsel of you without resistance, but for some unfathomable reason, he… doesn't. 
Instead he stills. Pulls back. Both of you gasping and shaking as you just look at each other.
He doesn't say anything. His gaze drops to your lips, his own parted and trembling.
You're just about to ask him what's wrong, when you realise that nothing is.
You've been together long enough now that you are finally starting to get the hang of hearing the things Marc leaves unspoken. Can read that hesitant look in his eyes and know what he’s thinking.
You know that in this moment all Marc wants is more. That’s what he doesn't know how to say.
Because Marc is still learning to ask for what he wants. And you know that the more he wants something, the less able he is to ask for it. (And the more you want to give it to him.)
And right now, the thing he wants more of is…
"Hang on a tic," you tell him, holding up a single finger. Your voice sounds throaty, but somehow miraculously calm despite the way your heartbeat is pounding in your ears. You reach behind you, scooping up your discarded handbag and plucking your lipstick from it as easy as you please. The small round tube nearly falls into your hand like it's guided by divine inspiration.
Marc's hands tremble on your hips, fingers gripping tight, tighter, tightest until it's almost painful. Somehow that only makes it better.
How many people on this earth can say that they've managed to make Marc Spector tremble?
Somehow your hands are still rock steady. Uncapping the lipstick, you feel his cock jerk hard against your thigh once, and then again as you twist the tube and begin to slick the bright stoplight red onto your lips.
You don't have a mirror. Don't need one. Don’t even have to look to know this is the cleanest application you'll ever manage, for all that your lips were already smeared to hell when you started. Your lipstick is perfect. You can tell by the way Marc is looking at your mouth. Staring at your mouth. Staring at you, like you're a goddess come to life. Every desperate desire he's ever had made flesh, made divine. 
Marc Spector makes you feel divine.
Twisting the lipstick back down, you recap it, barely managing to tuck it away in your bag with hands that are just beginning to shake. Then you reach for him.
Framing his face with trembling hands, you lean forward to press a single, perfect kiss to the corner of his mouth.
"There we go," you manage, before the need for him rises up to swallow you whole and your voice goes ragged, unspooling at the edges.
"Now, Marc. Please, now."
You don't need to say more than that. You watch the muscle in his jaw jump as he grits his teeth.
The ground beneath your feet vanishes in an instant, all you feel is Marc's arms wrapped around your waist as he hoists you up against the nearest kitchen counter. Firm, thick thighs framed against your sides as he presses you down against the hard surface. All you hear is the fumbling and swearing as he struggles to get his tight jeans undone and pushed down because his usually-rock-steady hands are trembling.
You’ve never seen him like this. All of him is shaking, every muscle in his body straining, so worked up he's practically vibrating with need. And you feel it too, his desperation seeping into you like a contagion, until you can barely breathe. Until you feel sick with want for him. 
You reach down to help him with his fly, the material of his jeans sticky against your fingers, his cock jerking under the fabric at your touch.
"Fuck. Baby," his voice is a raw and ragged thing, dragging in his throat like the air from his lungs has been wrenched from him. 
Everything inside you tingles with excitement at his tone. It doesn't matter that you're still sore from last night. That your legs are still wobbly from the pure physical exertion of it. All you want is more. More of this. More of Marc.
Clumsily, you get his zipper down and reach inside. He's hot and hard, the skin velvety smooth and slick, his cock jerking under your touch as you free him.
He shoves a hand between your legs in return, drags the soaked crotch of your knickers to the side, and unceremoniously slides two fingers into you, filling you so perfectly that you gasp at the sensation.
Heat spears through you, your hips bucking forward so hard you nearly fall off the counter, but he's there to hold you down with his weight.
His hips pressing forward. His hand pulls back, knocking yours out of the way so he can grab himself. Line himself up. The slick, fat head of his cock pressing against you. 
It's hurried and frantic. Your head spins from the blood rushing through your head so fast your vision blurs.
Then Marc presses inside. 
His cock is hot. Slipping into you like a fiery brand. Like the missing heart of you coming home. Burning you from the inside out. You both moan, gasping into each other's mouths.
When did you start kissing again?
You don't know. Why did you even stop? You never want to stop.
You can't move. Can’t think. Can't fucking breathe, but it's okay. You don't need to. Don't need anything except this. His cock pressing into you. Lodging itself inside you until it's as deep as it's possible to go.
You gasp again, and your head falls back, breaking the kiss as pleasure spears though you, sharp and blindingly sweet. It’s too much. It’s perfect.
Marc says something as his hips retreat, but you don’t register what it is, barely realise that he’s spoken.
You don’t register he's talking to you, asking you for something, until he stops moving. You whine, clawing at his shoulders because whatever he wants, the answer is, 'yes.'  
"Again," he repeats, and yes, that’s what you want. You want him to fuck you again, but he’s not doing it. Why did he stop?
"Baby," he says, the word scraping its way out of his throat like it's made of broken glass, "Kiss me again."
Oh.
It doesn’t register with you then—not really—the significance of his ask. How unusual it is that Marc is asking you for something that he desperately wants. You’ll remember later. Notice later. But for right now, it doesn't matter, because you want to give him what he wants regardless. You always want to give this man anything and everything he wants.
You lunge forward, his stubble scraping against your lips as you glance off his chin leaving a red smear.
Hot pleasure blooms as he thrusts forward into you.
"Again," he says.
You whine as he pulls back, but you're quicker on the uptake this time. Kissing his throat and get to watch his Adam's apple bob under the red lip print you leave behind, before your vision goes fuzzy with the next overwhelming thrust.
"Again."
You kiss his jaw, and he barely pauses before fucking back into you.
"Again."
His throat, again. and you're rewarded with the hot perfect press of him inside.
"Again."
Everything starts to blur. His words slurring together; your lips barely leaving his skin. The heavy weight of him pushing its way inside you.
You're panting open mouthed against his shoulder, lips sliding and sticking against his skin.
"Again," he demands, even though there's no longer any lull in your movements, 
"Again."  No break in contact of your lips on his skin. 
"Again." No pause in his rhythm.
"Again." No respite from the way the feeling swells. Coils tight, right where his cock is pounding, relentless, into the very centre of you.
"Again."
You can't–
"Again."
Oh god, you’re about to–
"Again. Again. Aga–ngh"
The litany breaks off, words dying, replaced by a strangled groan, when you come hard, your body clamping down, clenching around him. 
Through the waves of overwhelming pleasure, you feel the sting of his blunt fingernails digging in too hard at your hips. Hear the tiny, ragged "Oh. Baby. Fuck." that leaves his lips like it's been punched out of him.
You swear you can feel the heavy weight of him swell inside your still-clenching cunt, and then the reflexive, aborted jerk of his hips, as his cock begins to pulse.
He holds you there, tight against him, or maybe you hold him or both of you hold each other, as you shudder there together for long, endless moments.
When it's finally over, he presses one last, gentle kiss to your lips and pulls back.
You watch, heart so full of love for him that your chest aches, as one side of his red-smeared mouth pulls up in a rare, happy smile.  You trace the corner of it with one mostly-steady finger, and can't help smiling back.
“Well now," you say, once you're certain your voice won't betray you too badly, "I've made quite the mess of you, haven't I?"
Marc's eyes roam over your face. One warm hand comes up to cup your jaw, and you lean into his touch, letting him drag his thumb over your lips. You can feel it sticking slightly on whatever's left of your lipstick, but what does it matter? It's not like he can make it any worse now, is it?
"Yeah," he says. His thumb lingers.  His gaze too. Eyes gone soft and warm the longer he looks at your mouth. "Your mess."
Something constricts in your chest at the words. A deep-rooted, possessive protectiveness that takes hold, then unfurls, spreading everywhere, warm and sweet.  
"Yes," you agree, tightening your arms around his back to pull him closer to you. "All mine."
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A/N a sequel to the angsty Love Bites where Marc gets his yearning fulfilled. @thirstworldproblemss and I wrote this ages ago before Christmas but then we felt that there needed to be more ✨ yeaaaaarning✨ Hope you had fun reading.
Follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!
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demigoddessqueens · 8 months
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Lucifer SFW
Just some A-Z SFW for the occasional adorkable King of Hell
Here on masterlist 10
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A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Super affectionate!! Peppers you with kisses and everything
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
Chances are Luci would meet you if he’s ever visiting Charlie at the new hotel and sees you as one of the sinners living there
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
He’s the cuddle bug master, just holding onto you like glue
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
I’d imagine as King of Hell has others for domestic tasks, but he enjoys the domestic life and wants that peace and love with it
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
Oh he will NOT be handling breaking up well AT ALL 💔 like we’re talking tears and asking “did I do something wrong?”
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
Man’s still wears his wedding ring after a seven years divorce/separation, he makes good on his commitments
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
Very gentle and loving, there’s an air of love to his aura around you.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
Those anaconda squeeze type of hugs and burying his head in your neck/hair.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
Oh he wants to say it first so bad, but it all depends on when and how YOU want to say it, and Luci respects that
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
Short fuse jealousy! Anyone so much as looks at you if you’re together and they’re getting smoted
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
Passionate, deep kisses or quick little pecks
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
Has a bit of an awkward charm to him that may be hit or miss with some kids
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
Mornings are total “let’s just lounge in bed” all day type of thing
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
Nights are intimate and sweet, spending time together over a glass of wine
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
I’d feel Luci would open up faster to you than you would, part of his loneliness, but he respects your boundaries
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
He’ll only be “angry” if someone tries to pull anything with you, but has considerable patience with you.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
Luci can rattle off facts about you like it’s nobody business, just speaking about you adorably and what he loves about you
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
The first time you said “i love you” to him, he said it first a while back in the early stage
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
Given how he is with Charlie, you are also important and incredibly precious to him and wants to protect you
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
You’re getting the full Royal Treatment from him. Gifts, candies, conjured flowers and trinkets and whatnot
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
Maybe being a bit overly jealous or possessive of someone
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
Well he is in charge of the Ring of Pride so he has to look good, especially if you’re coming over
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
In a way, yes. Lonely and a bit like “do you not like me anymore?”
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
If you’re a cooking type, I’d imagine Luci has a bit of a sweet tooth and loves all your baked goods
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
Maybe like an overly nonchalant person or one who doesn’t communicate or open up themselves as he does
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
Sleep starts off with cuddles, maybe some spooning, you as the big spoon most of the time
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ferrstappen · 2 years
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loving him is red l Charles Leclerc Imagine
a/n: it’s been YEARS since I've written something but I have too many ideas and time so I'll give it a try again <3 any feedback is appreciated and than you for reading <3
also, of course the only song I could think of is Red by Taylor Swift (taylor’s version ofc)... I mean... how could I not?
genre: fluff.
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x female singer!reader.
summary: Charles’ girlfriend receives her first Grammy for Song of the Year, sadly enough the inspiration behind the song isn’t able to make it to the ceremony.
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“This feels so wrong, I should be there to support you... You’re always here for races and shit” Charles said while watching her get ready on a fancy hotel room, meanwhile he was stuck in Maranello. 
“Please don’t, it’s pre-season and all that, you know they needed you there today. Plus, I'll be home by tomorrow so we can celebrate... or you can console me since I'm probably losing anyway.” (Y/N) quietly said the last part while sipping some expensive sparkling wine her assistant brought to the room. 
“You are not losing! Babe, how many times do I need to tell you that?” Charles sounded truly exasperated with his girlfriend, like he truly had told her many many times. 
Truth be told, she never thought she would be considerate at all. Yes, her label had submitted her second album and the first single of the record, but they were almost obligated to do so, it was an unspoken rule in the music industry that you just had to do the entire “for your Grammy consideration” portfolio if you wanted to be taken seriously, but (Y/N) never really thought the song she first released from her album would be such a hit. 
Honestly, they just were words her heart could think of whenever she saw Charles, because he truly was red... In the way he wore the color so proudly, from the way his car was always a shiny red even when he was driving it in the driest of the deserts, to the way he loved her so passionately, fearlessly and undoubtedly... He was red. 
It never made sense to her that millions around the world would mix her lyrics on Ferrari t-shirts or that fans would wait for Charles on the stands with bright red lyrics of the song. 
He loved it, by the way. He would flush a bright red whenever someone on the grid teased him about it, pretended he was shy about everyone knowing those words were for him, but his heart would sing a little every single time he listened or read the verses meant for him, just as he would make sure the camera would capture your cute face over FaceTime when he got a podium and you couldn’t be here, or how he made sure to tell you his best joke when you’d arrive to the paddock holding hands, loving the way the photographers captured your laugh and the glint in his eyes just by being the reason of your smile. 
He had the superior relationship and he just knew it, and he made sure the rest of the word knew it as well. 
“So, are you finally going to show me the dress?” Charles said while putting his headphones on to ignore the world outside of his driver’s room.
She cheekily smiled. “No, not really” She told him, earning a dissatisfied groan from him.
“Then when do you want me to see it? On TV like the rest of the world?” He argued, his accent getting thicker.
“Actually yes, that’s exactly what I was thinking.” (Y/N) was going to keep talking, but her assistant let her know the dress had just arrived and they needed her full attention. 
“No, I heard that! You can mute me and I’ll just watch over here!” Charles pleaded, earning a heartily laugh from her girlfriend. 
“I’m so sorry, bebé. I have to go, but you can watch me on TV though!”
Charles sighed, unable to hide his grin. “You know I'll be glued, I don’t care about the time or anything,” even through his noise-cancelling headphones he could hear a big commotion outside his room, meaning someone would come knocking on his door soon. He took a deep breath before focusing his eyes on his muse again. “I love you so much, chérie. I’m so proud of you and whatever happens tonight doesn’t change that. Please whatever you need I'll have my phone at all times, I’m capable of stoping the car in the middle of nowhere and you know it,” they both laughed. “I’m right there with you, I love you.”
She repeated the same words over and over again, feeling a bit numb as several people helped her fitting the red Maison Valentino dress to perfection. It was a whirlwind from there, the last glance she took of herself in the mirror was to make sure the small prancing horse shaped stud earrings, a nod to her man watching on tv.
As if writing a Grammy nominated song and almost an entire album about him wasn’t enough...
Her hands couldn’t help the tingling on the palm of her hands, her body knowing she was missing her other half; he always needed to fix his tie or style a stubborn strand of hair, and it always calmed her nerves to take care of him. 
Back in Italy, Charles was anxiously watching the TV in front of him, some friends, including Carlos, were sitting around the living room, mindlessly chatting about some of the artists performing on the Grammys, what were the plans for the night, the next Real Madrid game...
But Charles eyes were trained on his girl smiling in front of the TV, feeling giddy as she gracefully walked down the carpet on her silky red dress, eyes shining and smile intoxicating. 
The night flew by and Charles swore he could feel your hand squeezing his as they announced the category he had been waiting for. Harry Styles was on the stage with the envelope.
Everything went by so quickly, Charles didn’t notice his friends had shut up and were with their eyes trained on the TV. They all collectively gasped when the brit announced Red by (Y/N) as the song of the year. 
Then it was just noise; from the TV, from people cheering on the theatre as she hid her face on the palm on her hands, to the living room where Charles had rose to his feet hugging everyone around him.
To anyone on the outside it would’ve seemed like their country had won the World Cup. 
“God, I don’t know how to begin,” She shakily said while holding the gramophone. “I know I’m supposed to say that this is for my fans and my label and everyone who believed in me, and it is but...” She smiled to herself. “This is for you, the inspiration behind every word, every verse, every note. My incredible boyfriend who makes my heart sing and my life happy. They haven’t invented the words to tell you how much I love you,” She could feel tears building on the corner of her eyes, until she saw a stage producer informing she only had ten seconds left to wrap up her speech. “God, just ten seconds? Thank you so much to everyone, Char I love you with my entire heart, and thank you to everyone for this I’ll always have this moment in my heart, even after I’m gone I’m sure this is gonna be engraved. Thank you!”
The camera captured her glistening eyes as she smiled through the lens. Charles had unshed tears as his heart was beating loudly. Only seconds passed until his phone was vibrating with an incoming FaceTime call. 
“So... Did you like the red dress?” She joked and he laughed through the unshed proud tears. He never knew he could feel so much pride and love for another person. 
He chuckled. “I loved it, and I love you so much words cannot explain. Fuck, how come I wasn’t there?”
Their love was red.
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hijackalx · 10 months
Text
PRICE OF WIT +18
(tumblr vers.)
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SUMMARY: Astarion can be so mean sometimes, but he swears he can make it up to you.
WORD COUNT: 1788
UNDER THE CUT: F!Reader, dom!astarion, VERY sub reader, make-up sex (kinda?), YALL ARE TOXIC AF TOGETHER, mean!astarion, possessive!astarion, praise, choking, biting, sadism and masochism, small mention of gale being a pervert lol
A/N: reworked this to be in second person, and also edited it since the AO3 version did not get that kind of love 💀 some lines/paragraphs have been changed. also this was originally written with act I/act II astarion in mind but i guess it works for ascended astarion too.
"NO! LET ME GO!"
Intelligent with a silver tongue to boot, Astarion can work his way through and into almost any circumstances he desires.
"I HATE YOU!"
A quick way out of a sticky situation? Got it. A smooth approach into a pleasurable one? No doubt. The world is his for the taking.
"I HATE YOU!"
Except for when it's not.
Sometimes his mouth moves faster than his brain. He occasionally says something a little too harsh, a little too cold— ice cold, and it doesn't matter how much or how little he means it, it still hurts.
Wit has a price, it seems.
You claw and shriek in his grasp. You didn't get far before he managed to wrap his arms around you and stop you from disappearing to who knows where. He winces as your fingernails dig into the skin of his forearms. He succeeds in grabbing your wrists and folding them against your body, trapping you against his chest.
"You're acting like a child!" He shouts through an exhausted growl as you continue to resist his hold.
He knows what he said was wrong— it was a snarky slip of the tongue. But you stormed off before he could apologize, so who's really the problem here?
The fire glows and crackles in the crisp night air, accompanied by Gale and Karlach, whose meals have been so rudely interrupted by your shrill screams. Although, they watch the tussle unfazed. This wouldn't be the first time you and him have had a peace-disrupting argument.
"They're the most immature people I've ever met," Karlach takes a bite of her turkey leg, her tone more irritated than anything. "No good for each other, those two."
Gale watches how you kick up dust and dirt just outside of Astarion's tent. He'd only heard pieces of what led to this as you spoke behind the fabric; some kind of complaint by Astarion that has clearly been taken to heart. Sighing, he meets Karlach's eyes, their shared gaze molding into apprehensive weariness.
"Well," he mutters into a lamb chop, "looks like we're in for another sleepless night."
"I love you, I love you, I love you—" your softly whimpered phrase is the only sound to be heard after the camp has settled in their bedrolls for the night.
All Astarion had to do was guide you back into his tent and successfully lay you down. After that, you were more willing to hear him out.
Your bodies are bathed in the gentle lantern light, your back pressed firmly to his bedding and your legs wrapped around his waist. He intertwines your fingers as he steadies your hands above your head. Soft, white locks tickle your cheek as he nuzzles into your neck, his teeth teasing at the skin every so often.
His pace is rhythmical but rough, his hips flush between your legs as he aims for your cervix— his favorite spot. He loves the way you writhe and try to push him away while pleading for more. The way your heels press into his back, how your voice breaks while you call out for him.
"I've got you, sweetheart," his exhales are hot against your skin.
His hand slips down to pinch your side after hearing you stifle a moan, a quick but effective reprimand. You squeak at how he cruelly twists the flesh, your abdomen tensing.
"Don't hold back," he scolds, and you catch how his brows lower in the corner of your eye. Your modesty has offended him.
You screw your eyes shut, mustering up the ability to speak clearly. "T-they'll hear," you blurt out. It's only fair to be considerate to your fellow party members— or at least try to.
Your response makes him laugh, and this time you're the one scrunching your brows. You don't understand what's so amusing until he says, "You wouldn't want to deprive Gale of his own pleasures, would you?"
You go entirely rigid, your face dropping slightly at how sure he sounds.
Questionably, he sits up to examine you, immediately noticing your change in expression. "What?" He asks. "Don't tell me you didn't know?"
Eyes wide and cheeks flushed a deep red, you stare up at him speechlessly. What he's implying is that... gale has been... touching himself while you and him are together?
How perverse.
He coos, squeezing your cheek and giving it a shake. "You're so cute." His condescending tone doesn't make you want to smack him in the face, strangely enough. In fact, you think you might like it judging by the way your stomach turns.
You take a moment to recover from the thought of your private acts not being so private. Noticing this, he balances his hands on the ground beside you, then pulls out before fully sheathing himself again with a fast, hard thrust. Your body jolts like it's been injured, and you can't hold back your yelp. His features are nothing short of devilish upon hearing the sound.
Sometimes he likes to be mean— but sometimes you like to let him.
"I quite like... the idea... actually," he says through breaths while he fucks you, his half-lidded gaze watching how your tits bounce. Leaning down, he begins to leave a trail of bite marks over your chest, each one he soothes with a gentle kiss as if to say 'sorry'. "Imagining Gale all alone—" another bite, another kiss. "—Wishing he were half as lucky as me."
He groans as your hands twitch and grip at his hair. Your back arches off the ground, and he runs a slightly calloused palm over the newly exposed area, tracing the curve of your body.
"Astarion," you say so weakly, so needy. He can't help letting a moan slip at how his name sounds coming from your mouth.
You're close, he can feel it. It's the way you tremble, the way you can't get close enough to him— wanting him deeper, harder, more, more— You're a greedy little thing, but he adores it. He adores you. How couldn't he give you anything and everything you want?
He sits up, his lustful stare heavy and thick as he peers down his nose at you.
You lift your chin as his hand wraps around your neck, allowing him all the access he wants. He begins to squeeze, your smaller fingers prying at his grip.
"You're mine," he watches intently as you squirm under his unwavering stare, his face still and emotionless. "Say it to me."
"I'm yours," you say readily, feeling your heart skip a beat when the corners of his mouth almost split into a proud grin.
"Tell me you won't try to run away again." His hold tightens.
"I-I won't. I won't leave you," you choke out. That's what you told him last time and the time before that. Just as your head begins to feel light and your eyelids heavy, your body buzzes and jerks with an orgasm.
He releases you so he can watch your full reaction; how you writhe and reach for him, how the hands scraping at his chest plead to close the distance between your bodies.
Tears slip down the corners of your eyes— maybe from pleasure, maybe not. He could hold you, but something inside tells him no. It's almost as if to serve as punishment for trying to run off.
Believe him, he doesn't want to punish his baby. But sometimes it's necessary.
Once your high dies down and you're left a heaving, exhausted mess, he grabs one of your limp hands and leaves a kiss on each fingertip. "Ooh," his thumb rubs your palm. "That was a good one."
You know very well that you're not finished. Luckily, he's kind enough to get you off first, even when he's upset with you. He's considerate where it counts, of course.
Or maybe he loves how much he can undo you with a second orgasm.
He caresses your face while you catch your breath. You lean into his touch, almost petting yourself. His undead palm is cold yet gentle, and you somehow find comfort in it. Your eyelids flutter closed.
"You're doing so good for me," he praises softly, his tone no louder than a murmur. "You can go a bit longer, can't you?"
He speaks tenderly and sweet, making your pulse beat even faster. "For me, darling?" He asks as if it's even a question— as if he doesn't know the answer.
Your body aches, worn and tired, yet you nod with eagerness. Anything, you think in your euphoric, fucked-out daze, anything for you.
There are times when you can't stand him, when he's the worst person in the world— but those only emphasize the times when he's the only person in the world; times when he makes you feel warm and loved, and so, so good.
Like when he nears his own orgasm and wraps his arms around you so tight, so close. He holds you like you're the dearest thing he's ever had, your skin pressed together like you're afraid to part.
And he fucks you so good you'll forget the nasty things he says and does, if only until the next time. For now, the way his breaths shake and his muscles contract in yearning— in need, is distracting enough.
"Fuck—" a word you'll rarely, if ever, hear him say. Too vulgar for his tastes, except for when he loses his ability to keep his composure. "Fuck," he hisses again as he thrusts into you, almost hard enough to lift your hips from the ground.
Before you know it, his teeth are sinking deep into the flesh of your neck. You gasp loudly, tangling your fingers in his curls. He stifles his moans by lapping up the crimson leaking from your puncture wounds, finishing inside you simultaneously.
Between the sounds of him reaching his climax and the bite, it's enough to push you over the edge a second time. Extra sensitive, your body reacts more violently than before. Your nails claw and tear at his back, leaving scratches through the maze of scars. The newly raised lines disfigure the old, tiny pools of blood rising to the top— a gentle reminder of your presence compared to his preferred methods.
"That's it, there you go," he pulls away breathlessly, making sure to use slow, flat sweeps of his tongue to clean up the mess he's made. The smeared red on your neck is licked away into a mere stain.
Your bodies finally ease into stillness. Exhausted, he rests his weight on top of you. His face nuzzles into the crook of your neck, eyes shut as you hold him.
Your lips press softly to his shoulder, your head lying against his. The heavy exhales between you alternate, your chests rising and falling deeply until they progress into something more controlled.
Though out of each other's lines of sight, you share the same troubled expression, your brows furrowed and lips pulled into frowns.
There's a long, silent moment of recuperation before he mutters into your ear,
“I love you."
301 notes · View notes
zykamiliah · 1 year
Text
shen yuan likes yue qingyuan, the post
i've documented 19 moments featuring sy!shen qingqiu's feelings for yue qingyuan with the express purpose of showing those who think that sy!sqq doesn't like yqy that they are factually WRONG
this is a long one so buckle up, grab a snack, get a drink, etc etc
number one
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as it's the usual with shen qingqiu, the first thing he notices in a man is whether he's handsome or not. and here you go: the first thing he sees upon waking up from getting isekai-ed is a handsome, elegant young man looking at him with concern. we do know how shen qingqiu likes that look on pretty men (he likes it a lot)
i also want to point out that yue qingyuan is the first pidw character shen yuan meets. he's already linked to him, not only because he's shen qingqiu's martial sibling, but he's also intrinsically tied to shen yuan's rebirth, to the moment he opens his eyes to the pidw world for the first time. keep this in mind.
number two
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upon getting up to date on wtf happened to him and learning his new identity, the second thing shen qingqiu does is worry about yue qingyuan's fate. he doesn't even know him yet and is already giving him the blorbo treatment. why is that? oh, maybe because he likes him???
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do you know how many characters shen yuan was "rather fond of"??? not that many i tell you. he's only derailed from worrying about whether he'll cause yue qingyuan's death because the system gives him a little sneak peek of the human stick scene.
so up to this point sy!shen qingqiu has characterized yue qingyuan as a brother type, an amicable, elegant and handsome man, a bleeding heart, too good for this world.
number three
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now we add 'considerate' to the many praises shen qingqiu extols on yue qingyuan. the man has to be really busy with all the sect leader work he has to do and yet he makes time to visit shen qingqiu regularly. we know why yue qingyuan does that, but shen qingqiu won't learn about qijiu's backstory until much later, and right now it doesn't matter. the fact remains: shen qingqiu is grateful to the point of tears to have yue qingyuan. even if he doesn't talk about it, we can theorize that he feels a bit lonely: he's a stranger in a new world, like a newborn baby. he may be obsessed with luo binghe but at this point of the story he still hasn't got time to bond with him. so the person shen qingqiu first latches on immediately after his transmigration is yue qingyuan.
number four
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"how dare that scumbag shen jiu not treat his shixiong like the god he is, with the kindness and respect he deserves? well i'm not the same, so i WILL treat yue qingyuan better!"
(it's the intention what counts, okay? we know he kind of fuck ups a few times and gives yqy much stress)
also love how shen qingqiu says "brotherly covenant", he really values familial bonds, and he'll come to treasure his bonds with all his martial siblings really quickly.
also, may i point out that shen qingqiu decides to be a good shidi for yue qingyuan and treat him well without any "ulterior motives"? it's not even tied to his survival. he's a kind person by nature, yes, but he doesn't even try to convince the reader that he's going to be a good martial sibling for selfish reasons, which was the case with liu qingge. he just up and decides that yue qingyuan deserves his respect and consideration. he officially adopts yue qingyuan as his big brother.
number five
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"at home in the atmosphere of brotherly love", do i need to say more? yue qingyuan makes him feel at home in this new world, he's comfortable around him. his presence soothes shen qingqiu.
number six
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furthermore, yue qingyuan reminds him of the brothers of his first life, but the sorrow he feels for losing them is overpowered by a "comforting sense of warmth" so great it makes him feel cheerful. this is the scene where yue qingyuan welcomes him back upon his arrival from the skinner demon incident. in that scene, the first thing they do is smile at each other. shen qingqiu is happy to see him.
he's surprised when yue qingyuan takes his wrist to examine his spiritual circulation, but when he notices what yue qingyuan is doing he instantly relaxes. yue qingyuan's touch doesn't bother him at all.
see how yue qingyuan's presence is often linked to feelings of comfort, warmth, home, brotherly love, joyfulness? keep this in mind too. don't you dare to forget it.
number seven
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this is post-demon invasion, while they are discussing the effects of without a cure. shen qingqiu is making good on his word of treating yue qingyuan better than his predecessor, by tamping down yqy's tendency to blame himself for everything.
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"i understand that yue qingyuan is genuinely worried about me, unlike SOME PEOPLE, so i have to reassure him in case he decides to be more stressed than normal"
bonus: 7.5
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("the three of them" refers to shen qingqiu, mu qingfang and yue qingyuan)
i want to quote this part too, because i can, and because this scene in the donghua was 100% faithful to the novel. just another reminder that shen qingqiu likes martial siblings.
number eight
now we're coming to the siblings-coded moments
exhibit one: "oh oh i figured it out so i'll say it before you do"
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i want to point out that shen qingqiu says "obviously", because from his POV yue qingyuan only does things for a good reason. shen qingqiu idolizes him.
number nine
siblings-coded moments exhibit two: "i know how to make you let me do what i want"
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we've jumped 3 years, this is the prelude to jinlan arc, and this is how their relationship has evolved. shen qingqiu knows what he has to say for yue qingyuan to allow him to go to jinlan. this is a method he's used the past, of course, because this isn't the first mission he went on after getting poisoned or after the IAC.
+bonus: 9.5 yqy being a mother hen
(this is the day after lbh chased him around jinlan)
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number ten
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shen qingqiu has just been accused of abusing his disciple, consorting with demons, murder, and being demonic cultivator wu yanzi's disciple. yue qingyuan almost starts a fight right there and there because they want to take his shidi away, but shen qingqiu stops him and his other martial siblings before it can escalate.
he gives yue qingyuan a deep bow. we've already established he respects yue qingyuan a great deal. he's ashamed that he's caused yue qingyuan so much trouble and grief, because he really cares about him, and his opinion of him, and he genuinely didn't want to be like the original who made yue qingyuan suffer a lot. shen qingqiu cares about his sect, about his martial siblings, and about yue qingyuan to the point that he GIVES HIMSELF UP to be imprisoned.
this is plot relevant! remember it, because shen qingqiu only feels ashamed and guilty when he thinks he has wronged the people he loves!
on that note:
number eleven
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(this is when luo binghe is laying siege to qiong ding to recover sqq's stolen body and sqq, in the mushroom body, sees his sect siblings for the first time after five years)
number twelve, AKA THE ULTIMATE QUOTE
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"the one who placed first" YOU HEAR THAT? YUE QINGYUAN IS THE PERSON HE ADMIRES AND REVERES THE MOST. AND NOT BECAUSE HE LOVED SHEN QINGQIU, IT'S NOT AN ADMIRATION BORN OF A SELFISH FEELING. it's because yue qingyuan is The Protector. THE BLEEDING HEART. he admires his kindness, his self-sacrificing nature, and even if shen qingqiu doesn't know, this are traits they have in common.
number thirteen
siblings-coded exhibit 3: when your other little brother tattles on you to your older brother and you're planning revenge
Remaining seated, Yue Qingyuan looked at him. “A lot of nonsense you’ve stirred up these days,” he said mildly. “Are you done?” Yue Qingyuan had never assumed such a severe attitude when speaking to him before, even going so far as to use a word like “nonsense.” This was already the equivalent of a flogging. It seemed that Liu Qingge had badmouthed him quite thoroughly. Shen Qingqiu swore that one day he’d steal Cheng Luan and use it to chop all the pork hock in all the kitchens of the Twelve Peaks. He’d chop until the oily sheen smothered all its sword glares!
so yue qingyuan being mad at you feels like the equivalent of a flogging. i get you sqq. like when my mom or my brother are mad at me i really feel like crying. anyway. it's hilarious that sqq is planning on stealing chen luan because liu qingge allegedly tattled on him to yue qingyuan.
it's obvious that shen qingqiu recognizes yue qingyuan as a figure of authority in his life, he respects him and as i said before, he cares about what yue qingyuan thinks of him.
number fourteen
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we know that shen qingqiu's unconscious actions say a lot about him as a person, and the fact that he unconsciously took a step towards yue qingyuan speaks volumes. he's practically wavering between following yue qingyuan or staying with luo binghe.
this will not be the first time he hesitates to go with luo binghe on the face of yue qingyuan's request/order to stay with him. and in this case, he does stay with cang qiong because the situation has gotten pretty bad.
He didn’t know how long he could hold the others off, and he absolutely couldn’t abandon this mess of a situation and escape with Luo Binghe. Yue Qingyuan and Liu Qingge had been brazen with their show of bias, and Wu Wang was already furious. Either Shen Qingqiu or Luo Binghe had to stay behind, or open conflict would erupt between Zhao Hua Monastery and Cang Qiong Mountain.
yue qingyuan and liu qingge just protected him in front of everyone, so he chooses to stay with them. shen qingqiu is incredibly loyal to them, and most importantly, he doesn't want cang qiong mountain to get into trouble because of him.
this is as good a moment to remind you all that in a lot of instances cqm = yqy in shen qingqiu's mind. obviously there is also the other peak lords and the disciples, but this is important. it isn't just because yqy is the sect leader. yue qingyuan was the first martial sibling he met, the one that welcomed him to the world of pidw and the one that kept him company those first days post-transmigration.
+ bonus: siblings coded exhibit 4:
yqy, out loud so others hear: you're grounded also yqy, whispering: let's have dinner and watch a movie once we get home, what do you want for dessert?
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i can't stop laughing
+ bonus 2: parallelisms
(this moment is right after shen qingqiu has learned of shen jiu's past and woke up after being unconscious for 5 days)
When he next opened them, what filled his vision instead was a white bed curtain, its corners decorated with tassels. At the sudden change in scenery, Shen Qingqiu froze in place, surprised and unable to react—at least not before he heard Yue Qingyuan’s voice beside him. “Awake?” Shen Qingqiu mechanically blinked a couple times. His throat felt a bit dry, but he forced out his voice. “Zhangmen-shixiong.” (...) Shen Qingqiu awkwardly sat up. Suddenly, he thought this scene was a little familiar. The first time he’d woken in this world, Yue Qingyuan had also been at his bedside, watching over him.
number fifteen
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so shen qingqiu knows he can get away with disobeying yue qingyuan and doing whatever he wants because yqy will forgive him anyway, and yet he chooses to respect yqy's decision and authority. of course he'll later convince yue qingyuan that he should allow him to go, like he's done many times before, but he won't deliberately disobey his zhangmen-shixiong.
so later, when they're on their way to maigu ridge, he tries to convince yqy that he must go with them. this is when yue qingyuan gets THIS CLOSE to locking him up in qiong ding hall.
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now this is officially the only time yue qingyuan has done something remotely yandere-y adjacent. and not without reason! shen qingqiu died by self-detonation, then he returned after 5 years, then he was taken by a demon emperor, then he spent 5 days unconscious etc etc. he's admittedly very worried that shen qingqiu will die on him again, this time without a miraculous return. and the best thing? shen qingqiu doesn't know what to do. he didn't know whether to reach with his sword or not, whether to fight yue qingyuan on this or not. he wants to listen to yue qingyuan, but he also wants to go save the world.
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and EVEN when he's finally allowed to go to Luo River, he hesitates again when he notices yue qingyuan may be struggling!
number sixteen
the reveal at maigu ridge's scene is really long, quoting it all would be a complete nightmare. so i'll just tell you to go read it because it reiterates some of the things i've already pointed out:
-shen qingqiu worrying about yue qingyuan
Thinking he was fine, Shen Qingqiu let go, but once he did, Yue Qingyuan didn’t remain standing for long before he unexpectedly collapsed again. Shen Qingqiu blanched with shock, then hurried to help him up again. “Zhangmen-shixiong? Zhangmen-shixiong?” After a brief examination, even with his superficial medical knowledge, he could tell that Yue Qingyuan’s current condition was horrible.
-shen qingqiu feeling guilty for causing yue qingyuan trouble
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-shen qingqiu almost crying because of qijiu's tragic story and because it breaks his heart seeing yue qingyuan like this
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number seventeen
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i pointed out earlier that shen qingqiu idolizes yue qingyuan, and this is the first time he sees him so weak, which understandably makes him panic a lot. shen qingqiu thinks yue qingyuan is being talkative because he's dying, but shen qingqiu is having none of it
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sobs shen qingqiu is so desperate to keep him alive.
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+ bonus 3: yet again shen qingqiu's heart breaking for yue qingyuan
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number eighteen
shen qingqiu, post-maigu ridge, wakes up, and upon remembering that he'd left zhangmen-shixiong in a pretty bad situation, he runs out of the lingxi caves in a panic.
you don't know how much this scene makes me feel
like, the moment luo binghe is out of the picture, yue qingyuan's safety becomes his main worry
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then when he finally sees him, he's so happy that yqy is fine!
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number nineteen: the goodbye scene
But even though he was the sect leader, Yue Qingyuan didn’t go with them. Instead, he stood in place, silently staring at Shen Qingqiu. For some reason, it became comparatively more awkward. As if testing the waters, Yue Qingyuan said, “Xiao-Jiu…” “Shixiong,” said Shen Qingqiu, “it’s Qingqiu.” Even though it would be too difficult to tell Yue Qingyuan the truth, Shen Qingqiu still hoped he could demonstrate the difference in other ways. Yue Qingyuan was stunned for a bit, then gave a small smile. “It’s Qingqiu. Qingqiu-shidi.”
i think this is the first time they've ever been awkward with each other. shen qingqiu says it would be difficult to tell him the truth, whether because the system won't allow him or because it'd be emotionally stressful for him to do so we don't know; but he still wants to mark the difference between the original and himself anyway, because he doesn't want to deceive yue qingyuan.
“What are your plans for the future?” asked Yue Qingyuan. “I have no plans for the time being,” said Shen Qingqiu. “First I’ll wait for Luo Binghe to return and see how he’s doing.” Yue Qingyuan smiled. “You truly adore that disciple.” Shen Qingqiu was searching for a way to answer when Yue Qingyuan said, “Shidi, Cang Qiong Mountain will forever be a place to which you can return whenever you tire of wandering the outside world.” These words were said with utmost sincerity and solemnity. Yue Qingyuan had always been this way. Whatever he promised, he would definitely deliver. And what he couldn’t deliver, he would endeavor to make up for, no matter the cost.
after learning of his past, after all that's happened, shen qingqiu's admiration remains unwavering. their relationship has become more complicated on account of the ghost that haunts it, but if anything, shen qingqiu's feelings for yue qingyuan have only deepened with this new understanding.
After assuming the role of this novel character, Shen Qingqiu had always refused to become the scum villain from the original work. He’d drawn a clear boundary between them and taken great pride in walking the opposite path. So never before had he felt such a powerful and impulsive thought: If only he really were Shen Jiu. If only that person could really hear these words.
but his heart still breaks for yue qingyuan and shen jiu and what they have lost.
[Luo Binghe] stood utterly alone, without a single person beside him. When the people walking past saw his face, their own faces filled with all sorts of expressions. Shen Qingqiu involuntarily ran forward a couple of steps, then turned his head to look at the person behind him. “Go on,” said Yue Qingyuan. He stood behind Shen Qingqiu, silent and with good grace. It was as if one was the past and the other the future.
this is the last interaction between shen qingqiu and yue qingyuan in the main novel. before leaving with luo binghe, he turns back and silently asks for yue qingyuan's permission, his approval.
it's like getting your family's blessing before running off with your paramour.
this is yue qingyuan to shen qingqiu: the person that stood by his side from the moment he was reborn into the world of proud immortal demon way, the steadfast, strong and reliable older brother that gave him a family and a place to call his, that has fought for and defended him against all his enemies to the detriment of his own reputation. shen qingqiu respects, admires and will try to do what yue qingyuan says, because he's the only authority figure shen qingqiu recognizes in this life. even if yue qingyuan's care was born out of his feelings for shen jiu, shen qingqiu can't stop caring for him, being grateful for his presence and the comfort it gave him throughout all these years. even after learning the truth, his only regret is that he can't bring shen jiu back so yue qingyuan and him can get some closure.
that's love, my dudes.
854 notes · View notes
kyemna · 7 months
Text
Hazbin Hotel Characters Positive and Negative traits
Headcanons
I apologize for any grammer mistakes!
Tw: none
Charlie
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Positive:
-Loves to do things for you.
-Also loves it when you bake together.
-Keeps every single gift you give her in a box with rainbows and glitter on it.
-Unironically says 'yo mama' at the wrong times LMFAO
-Plays with your hair or fingers when she's in deep thought
-Brags to her dad about how you're the most amazing partner ever
-Has the most amazing made up stories and fantasies. Talks your ears off with them
-When you're laying in bed, and she wakes up before you, she'll lay on top of you to wake you up.
I'm not kidding. It can be 6 am, and she'll crawl over to your side of the bed and lay her whole body on yours.
-In general, she's super fun to be around.
Negative:
-Overworks herself.
With that, she forgets to eat.
On a few occasions she actually fainted.
-Becomes distant when something's bothering her.
-She can get too swept up in her ideologies/fantasies, that she doesn't see what's right infront her.
-Lowkey controlling, but doesn't realize it.
(I don't think there are many negative things about Charlie to be honest LOL)
Vaggie:
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Positive:
-Considerate.
-If she sees something that reminds her of you, she buys it.
-Knows how to calm you down/put you in your place.
-Admits when she's wrong, and knows when to apologize.
-Smells good. I have a feeling she just smells sweet. Like coconut or something.
-A surprisingly good artist?
-Has a great wardrobe. Let's you raid it every once in a while.
-Strong asf. Often lifts you up, and throws you over her shoulder.
Negative:
-Aggressive.
Normally, she has no way of outing it, so she bottles it up. Because of this, she can come over as aggressive, simply because her cup overflows.
-Drowns in her feelings.
-Takes things too seriously.
-She hit you in a fight once, and she still regrets it.
-Also hold grudges.
-Gives you the silent treatment if you did something to her dislike.
Alastor:
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Positive:
-Surprisingly understanding.
-I said this once, and will continue to say it, he has AMAZING taste in music. Many of the characters do.
-A great cook.
His mom taught him many recipes, so he loves to make them for you.
-Protective.
-Open minded/open to new experiences
-Intelligent, always knows when you lie.
-Good at boardgames.
Beat you at Uno SO many times, it's getting a little humiliating..
-Aware of your likes and dislikes, whether that be: Music, clothes, topic of conversation, certain foods, and tries to help you avoid those things in your daily life.
-Gets along with your mother very well.
He's always willing to lend her a hand.
Negative:
-Obsessive.
-Has his eye on you 95% of the time. Not in a good way.
-Decides things for you without you asking him/giving him permission.
-does NOT mind his business.
-Not good with kids.
Because he's born in the 1890's he's super old fashioned. Therefore I think he would strike his kids if they misbehaved.
-Doesn't get along with your male friends, and is 'overly' friendly with your female friends, which makes it seem like he's flirting with them.
-He's a murderer. That speaks for itself.
-Blood thirsty as hell.
-A good liar, which makes him seem untrustworthy.
Angel Dust:
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Positive:
-Loves grocery shopping or shopping in general with you.
-Notices small changes in your behavior, whether it's due to stress or simply a bad day, and helps you relax/cheer you up.
-Is great at planning dates!
-Also has amazing music taste.
I personally think a few of his main artists are:
Lady Gaga, Kesha, T-ara, Britney Spears and The Weeknd
-Funny as hell. No pun or joke gets past him.
-Great with animals! If you have a pet, he has a nickname for them.
-Unironically calls you 'Pookie' or 'Snukems'
-Has a good memory. Remembers your favorite color, your favorite flower, etc.
-Chases you around the house/appartment with a bug he caught. (Whether that's negative or positive is totally up to you)
Negative:
-Doesn't really understand/do boundaries, so he'll often take things too far.
-Argumentive. He enjoys a good argument or fight, which makes it difficult to find a solution to the problem your fighting about.
-Holds grudges.
-Overthinks the smallest things.
-Secretive. It takes a lot to get him to talk about his feelings and problems.
-Takes his anger out on you sometimes.
-Passive aggressive.
-Borrows your things without your permission, and doesn't put them back when he's done.
Husk:
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Positive:
-Funny. Like, his jokes are actually hilarious. Unlike Alastor who makes the most awful dad jokes ever.
-Is so fully aware when your bullshiting him, he just pretends not to know.
-As i said in previous headcanons, he LOVES to dance with you.
He's super good at it too!
Has his hands all over you.
Hips, waist, neck, back, you name it.
-Will never admit it, but he likes it when you sneak up on him/jump him.
-In general he's pretty accepting of physical touch.
-He purrs, when you scratch his ears or something.
-Leaves you small gifts and letters around the house/appartment.
Negative:
-Messy. Has trouble cleaning/keeping things clean.
-Forgetful. Often forgets your dates.
-Anger Issues.
-Snaps at you when he's overwhelmed or stressed. Doesn't apologize for it because he's not aware of it. You'd have to point it out to get an apology out of him.
-Easily irritated.
When you're too close to him, when he's in a bad mood or when you take jokes a little too far, he ignores you for a few hours.
Thank you for reading!
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egot1stical · 1 year
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ramblings about how winter king is not a simon but an ice king from my insta story. no idea how much sense this makes
Not to post a serious analysis of mr oncest bait, but it's kind of... *wrong* to say the winter king is Simon? I think it's more accurate to call him an ice king who THINKS he's Simon. His whole bit is that he removed the madness of the crown from himself, but the ice king isn't just "simon but crazy". The ice king is the result of the wish crown's curse over the span of 1000 years breaking down Simon's psyche and replacing and warping and mixing it with Evergreen (specifically Gunther's warped view of him) and adding more madness and sadness till he basically experiences ego death. We know our Simon (at least at this point) considers he and ice king separate entities. They have pretty different personalities
Winter king is more like ice king than Simon:
* Physical stuff. Obviously. He's taller, has longer straighter hair, and is fucking bright blue+ still has evergreen's nose LOL. But also smaller stuff like the fact he dresses different and has different shaped glasses
* WAYYYYY more outgoing. Even before All That, Simon doesn't seem like the most outgoing guy. He would go on expeditions yes but could you imagine that guy throwing a party? No.
* Way more selfish and self absorbed. Which is in line with ice king, but now he's conventionally attractive so everyone else agrees. This is opposed to the fact Simon want to khs
* No consideration for PB. This is an interesting one, because it's the first departure from both our Simon and IK. Obviously ice king was terrible to PB LOL but like....he liked her.....because she was like betty..... And now Simon really respects her (and feels terrible about it.) while WK straight up does NOT care about her. Different from both, but closer to IK because he is a dickweed
* Deals with emotions differently than Simon. Seems to have completely blocked Betty out (assuming they were still close in this universe). And marceline bro... whatever happened there, ice marcy is the KID version of her. He has her bass, so she at least grew up and they've interacted. Maybe she saw him get "fixed" and was like.
Wow! You're not Simon!
* The name. Fionna's dream has the "ice prince", and that's what she calls Simon upon meeting him for the first time. If this was a True Simon, it would make more sense for him to be called the ice prince in universe, no? But he keeps the King title.
Simon spends a lot of the episode jealous of the winter king because he seems so well adiusted while he has the crown.
Simon has no magic, no nothing, but at least he has his brain back. The crown is very much directly linked to his loss of identity and to see WK be CONSCIOUS and LIKED and seemingly HIMSELF with magic is something he desperately wants especially at a time like this when his mental health is down the shitter while everyone talks about how much more fun he was when he was legitimately insane
The difference is that Simon spent every *conscious* moment FIGHTING the crown. Winter king is NOT fighting that shit. He says that he "conquered" it, but no you did not buddy. He is still dependent on it. He cannot survive without it. He just gave up. He's accepted that he's become one with it instead. So did ice king. Except without the madness of ice king, he can be a semi functional human being. He still gets the high of the crown and all its power, but this doesn't change the fact it Changed Who He IS.
Doesn't fucking matter rn becauee Simon hates himself and wants to be someone else but you get the idea. Winter king is just a version of Ice King LARPing as Simon. He can just do this way more convincingly even to himself because he can actually think now
Like “Betty? OH HAHA THE DEAD ONE” is an ice king ass reply and I swear to god at least part of the reason they didn’t get Tom Kenny to do his voice is because it would just be ice king’s voice again
also in regards to why candy queen is like that-Okay one, this goes with the name thing. Princess bubblegum. Normal. Candy Queen. Insane. Same as winter/ice king and ice prince. We cool?
Anyway
The Madness manifested in Simon/ice king in regards to Betty as romantic obsession. With the madness gone, CQ is the one feeling the brunt of these feelings- which would explain why Winter king doesn't remember feeling so Strongly about betty. Because Simon's feelings about her are naturally just fucking insane, it's so intertwined with the Madness that when that part is removed, so are any feelings towards Betty.
CQ is probably also obsessed with WK and "being together" because the sane part of her mind recognises that this madness is HIS and this is her fucked uo way of trying to like. Give it back.
That’s all I got
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'Do no [emotional] harm': Wylan Van Eck
I believe this to be one of the main provisions in an unofficial 'Wylan Van Eck`s code: Rules to live by'. It has been made apparent, in particular, in his relationship with Jesper.
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As soon as Wylan sees that Jesper is not exactly offended but clearly upset about the assumption that he`d have left Wylan the morning after their night together, his immediate response is 'No!' (after stuttering for a moment - probably because this reaction is kind of a surprise to him as Wylan hasn`t realized yet that Jesper does care about their relationship). This 'No' doesn`t mean that Wylan renounces his previous statement, as he goes on to clarify it. It is more of an instinctual response to him understanding that he`s hurt another person with his words - almost as if 'No' is a counterspell to undo the damage done.
And we also have this -
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Once again, Wylan involuntarily makes Jesper uncomfortable - this time by mistaking the key Jesper made for him in a pure surge of care and affection for a coat hook. And once again - a moment of confusion is followed by an attempt to take back the words that somehow have become hurtful.
Also, there`s a nice distinction between these two scenes. In the first one Wylan understands why exactly Jesper is upset almost in a heartbeat - and remains in his place. But in the deleted scene, even while it hasn`t yet clicked for him what`s wrong, he understands that something is wrong - and that`s enough for him to put away his drink and make a move as if to follow Jesper. He doesn`t actually go after him in the second scene either; Wylan, ever respectful and considerate, doesn`t want to push and risk causing even more distress for a person he`s communicating with. Yet the body language has changed a lot - because now he knows how Jesper feels about him, and he allows himself to let go and openly show his concern.
And here`s one more tiny bit that I personally like quite a lot -
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Jesper is butchering the name of the plant - and how does Wylan react? He nods a few times, almost as if he`s telling Jesper 'Right, right, you`re doing fine', and only after Jesper finishes the sentence Wylan goes on to correct him (not entirely successfully😉).
Off topic: I absolutely adore the way Wylan outwardly reacts to what Jesper is saying while inwardly processing what he means ('Oh, he messed it up!' - 'My interests matter to him, he wants to be with me!')
And this trait - not even reluctance to hurt someone`s feelings but outright fear to do so, the rejection of the idea itself - is only natural for Wylan given the way he was treated, or rather mistreated, for years. And by a person who was supposed to be the closest and dearest to him no less! He knows the hurt the words can bring all too well - and doesn`t want to inflict it on anyone (remember him praising Alby`s playing), much less on Jesper who he cares for a lot.
As an addition - the situation in reverse:
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Jesper also understands that he`s hurt Wylan and tries to rectify his mistake - but the damage is done. Unfortunately, Jesper has hit the bull`s eye yet again - he has unknowingly stabbed Wylan where it hurts the most. Kit portrayed Jesper's reaction beautifully - the way it dawns on him that something is really wrong when he hasn`t even finished his sentence yet so he doesn`t take his eyes off of Wylan`s face; the way he`s scanning it with the quickest upward-downward movements of his eyes and then keeps looking back at Wylan even as he begins to fiddle with the paper, clearly confused and lost but also trying to assess the damage. Jesper is clearly out of his element - apologizing for verbal jabs (quite harmless at that, or ones that at least seem harmless to him) is not something he does often. Yet he tries his best - for the novice who somehow has become important to him, for his not-exactly-one-night-stand, for Wylan.
Don't worry, Jesper, it`ll be fine! Daturma Ox is on its way🥰
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suashii · 1 year
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୨♡୧ TAKE TWO — miya osamu x reader. sfw. fluff. reader and osamu are exes. best friend!atsumu.
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“do we really have to eat here?” you cross your arms, hesitantly lingering outside of onigiri miya. you spare the sign a quick, apprehensive glance before turning your gaze back to atsumu who looks uncharacteristically annoyed.
“yes.” he nods, pointing at himself. “it’s my turn to pick lunch.”
that much is true but you thought your best friend would be a little more considerate of your circumstances and choose not to force you through an awkward meal at your ex's restaurant. maybe it was silly of you to think so; atsumu hasn’t been necessarily accommodating since your break up. he always invites both of you to his games and takes you back to hyogo to have dinner and celebrate holidays with his family. you suppose these are all things the two of you did before you started dating osamu, but you can’t help but feel guilty for continuing to be so present in the man’s life even after ending things with him.
you sigh and throw your hands out in exasperation. “please just pick somewhere else. he probably thinks i’m haunting him with how often i’m around.”
“no,” atsumu tells you with the shake of his head as he comes to stand behind you. his hands come to rest on your shoulders, firmly guiding you toward the front entrance. “i’m hungry and we’re already here. you’ll both just have to deal with it.”
there’s no use in fighting him on the matter any longer and while you won’t admit it, you’ve been craving some of osamu’s rice balls ever since the two of you split up. so, with a shaky hand, you pull the door open, the bell above it ringing to announce your arrival.
it’s just your luck that osamu is stationed at the host stand when you enter. his gray eyes are shielded by his cap when he looks up but that doesn’t stop you from feeling like his gaze is piercing you. it isn’t cold or dismissive but the intensity is still there.
you’re not sure if atsumu wants to save you the embarrassment of the uncomfortable interaction or if he’s really just starving—regardless of which it is, he speaks up from behind you, one of his hands lifting from your shoulder to hold up two fingers. “table for two, brother.”
osamu hums in confirmation, picking up two laminated menu sheets from behind the podium and nodding his head in a gesture for you to follow. you do, hanging back and falling behind atsumu to keep a healthy distance between yourself and osamu. he settles the two of you at a small booth, setting the menus on the table and telling you both that he’ll give you some time to look over them before he returns to take your orders.
your eyes scan over the selection offered but even without looking at the index of food items, you’d be able to list off almost everything printed on the menu. you had helped osamu draft it, after all.
you remember it like it was yesterday; his experimenting with recipes and your taste testing of each one of them. you’d sit down and help him go through interior design catalogs, compromising on a mix of functionality and trendy. it was an exciting experience, a time when the both of you were happy. but as joyful as the both of you were, it was also hectic and opened your eyes to how you each had priorities and commitments outside of your relationship.
you still aren’t sure if it was the right call, but you and osamu came to terms with that fact and decided to end things on a good note. right person, wrong time or something like that.
with a sigh, you push your menu to the center of the table. it’s a reminder of what once was and you already know what you want anyway. your melancholy aura must reach atsumu on the other side of the table because he levels you with another miffed stare. his lips move as though he’s about to scold you but before he can, his cell phone rings.
the blonde pulls the device from his pocket and reads to contact name lit up on his screen. his golden eyes flit up to you as he stands up from the cushion. “i gotta take this. order my usual if i’m not back when samu stops by.”
you’re tempted to grab his arm as he goes and beg him to stay so you won’t be alone when his brother comes back around but you scoff at yourself instead, saddened by how you’re uneasy at the mere thought of being alone with osamu. you were in love with him once. for all you know, you still might be.
you anxiously wait for atsumu’s return, leg unconsciously bouncing up and down as you do so. osamu beats his brother to the table, though, notepad in hand and a casual smile pulling at his lips. “hey. ready to order?”
you nod, reciting atsumu’s menu choice and then yours, which hasn’t changed since osamu first made it for you. silently, you wonder if he already knew that’s what you’d get.
“anything else?” he asks.
you should just say no and let him be on his way but before you know what’s happening, the words are spilling out past your lips. “i’m sorry.”
“for what?” osamu laughs—the genuine kind with no bitterness laced in it. “getting food?”
“no.” you shake your head, the ghost of a smile tugging at your lips before it falls only a second later. “well, kind of… i know you’re probably tired of seeing me around all the time. it must be pretty awkward for you.”
osamu’s silence pulls your eyes away from your hands and up to his face. you expect him to stiffly chuckle and agree but, to your surprise, he doesn’t. his lazy smile persists as he clips his pen to the waist apron tied around him and stuffs the pad of paper in its pocket.
“i’m not tired of seeing you.” his declaration makes your heart jump from your chest to your throat and your lips part in disbelief. it’s good to hear, though you’d be lying if you said it didn’t catch you off guard. you don’t have time to think about it too much before osamu continues. “and… maybe it’s a little awkward, but it doesn’t have to be that way.”
you press your lips together, puffing out your cheeks with air as you ponder over his words. a stream of cool air pushes past your lips as you deflate your cheeks and turn to look at osamu again. “i don’t know. it seems like an awkward situation by default.”
“yeah, it does. but i don’t want either of us acting cagey just because the other is around.” you don’t want that either. even if things can’t go back to the way they were before, you’re sure that anything osamu has in mind is preferable over strained smiles and forced laughs. “what do you say? no more walking on eggshells?”
it doesn’t sound like a simple solution on the surface but the more you think it over, the more doable it sounds. if you start seeing osamu as your best friend’s brother instead of an ex-lover, all the clumsy interactions you’ve been dealing with for the past few weeks will be traded in for something less delicate, more civil. and although it may not be in your cards at the moment, maybe this could be the start of the path back to the way it once was between you and osamu.
you meet his flint eyes and recognize the hopeful glint swimming in them. it makes you smile, not tense or tight like they have been for almost a month now, but a real one—the kind that meets your eyes. “sounds good.”
“good.” osamu nods, wearing a pleasant smile of his own.
you’ve only just agreed to this new, civil, friendly, non-awkward relationship, but you have to hold back the urge to bombard him with everything that’s happened since the two of you broke up. you want to tell him that you finally got that promotion you were up for and that you were able to adopt that puppy you were always visiting. and you want to ask him all about how his restaurant has been doing and if he ended up moving into that apartment with the nice kitchen that he’d been eyeing up.
“you guys have been talking for a while now.” atsumu’s voice drifts through the air, making you jump. you had almost forgotten about him. he looks between you and osamu as he sits down, taking in your shared smiles and the tranquil air around you. “are you getting back together or what?”
“jesus, atsumu.” you reach over the table to smack his arm. the awkwardness had just dissipated and he single-handedly made this encounter weird again.
osamu holds back a laugh, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb. “i’m gonna go start on your food.”
he walks away but that doesn’t stop atsumu from pestering you for more details. “are you? that slap wasn’t much of an answer.”
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thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎
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discountenancer · 1 year
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Here’s why Jasnah and Hoid is a great ship:
It’s not a ship.
It’s a stopgap.
I think Jasnah and Hoid do, on a personal level, enjoy each other. I do not think Brandon is writing them to last, and that’s intentional.
Jasnah finds Hoid to be an intellectual equal—“after all this time” implying she has never encountered someone who could be on her level before. She finds him “fascinating”. She needs his knowledge to save her planet and people. She doesn’t trust him. The text says this directly.
Additionally, they’ve been ‘together’ for what can’t be more than a few months. I don’t remember how long between Oathbringer and ROW, but it’s not long. People don’t fall in love that fast, and both Jasnah and Wit are too smart and risk-averse to let themselves do such a thing. They are not in love. They are doing a very strange form of dating, on top of which they are facing down Odium. No walks in the menagerie for them, just a constant barrage of stressors on all sides. They are under a great level of stress and not doing anything remotely close to courting or dating, physical affection from Hoid aside. Jasnah doesn’t even call him Hoid, so it’s unclear if he’s divulged that name to her despite telling Dalinar and Kaladin, who forgot or refuse to use it. The text is clear that he has told her some things about himself, like not being Alethi, using some power of physical transformation, and being immortal, but she’s stymied on anything else. I don’t think she’s the sort of woman who would insist on calling him Wit in private if she knew a more personal name, but I could be wrong.
So: Jasnah needs Hoid as an ally, needs his vast knowledge of all things Odium/Rayse, and perhaps fancies him as a future partner (“curious how the relationship would develop”). She doesn’t seem to be betting on Hoid 4 Life, but is enjoying the comfort it provides in the moment.
What does Hoid get from this?
First, he gets his dick wet. Jasnah’s canonically very beautiful. The benefit there is obvious.
Secondly, he gets to influence her decisions. He is shifting the boulder to roll in the direction he wants. Hoid is after something, and we don’t know what it is. I do genuinely believe he wants Odium contained—having a God roaming around the universe who wants Hoid specifically to die would doubtlessly be a big ol’ wrench in whatever his plans are. Hoid can do his work much more effectively at Jasnah’s side than on his own. He gets into the Big Important Meetings and knows all of the Plans being made. He gets to cast his vote. Jasnah takes his opinions into consideration.
They are both deriving an immense benefit from their relationship. Don’t let the sex fool you into thinking it makes what they have deeper than it is—as an ace person, I believe Jasnah sees sex as a necessary compromise in maintaining the relationship (“she could provide the intimacy he desired….this was not a new experience for her”). This is unsurprising. Sex is a small price to pay for, uh, saving the planet from an enemy you only recently learned exists and also happens to be the god of hate incarnate.
Brandon has said of the pairing "Wow, that's a really great and a really terrible match all at the same time, and that's what I'm looking for, in a lot of ways.”
Great match for intellectual brains and snark. Terrible match because something is being set up under the pretense of what we are assuming is a sloppy last-minute ship randomly set up in the second half of ROW.
There’s a WOB about how Jasnah and Hoid perceive power—I cannot find it, so here’s the paraphrase I’m drawing on:
“we should be concerned about how both Hoid and Jasnah view power and that’s what drew them together”.
Jasnah and Hoid are creatures of philosophy. Jasnah values the masses over the individual and Hoid values the individual over the masses (“[he] is legitimately empathetic to the individual”; telling Dalinar he would watch Roshar burn to get what he wants while devoting time and risk to helping various characters through rough spots). This is where their attraction to power and how they subsequently use it will put them at odds. They do not have the same goal, though they don’t know it—or perhaps Hoid does already, but is playing the game. Jasnah wants to save Roshar. Hoid wants to save Roshar, but more importantly, as he’s said, he wants to save his own interests.
Jasnah is brilliant, but I do think Hoid is conniving enough to manipulate her. “Yes, he did seem genuinely fond of her. He said it had taken him by surprise as much as it had her” (ROW 99)—this does not mean romantic relationship. It could. It could also mean a general fondness, like a dear friend. We have not seen Hoid or Jasnah exactly palling around with anybody on their own. We don’t know if they’re awash in good judies. They are two very smart people burdened with difficult tasks. Jasnah didn’t like Wit when we first saw them interact. Now they get along and playfully banter. That’s some unexpected fondness for sure. Trauma bonding, baby! It’s a hell of a drug!
Jasnah and Hoid are not fated to be together. They’re not supposed to be convincingly in love, because they aren’t. They are together purely by circumstance and their time is largely consumed with trying to stop Odium or Jasnah picking Hoid’s brain for her scholarly pursuits. Their relationship is, for now, enabling them to tackle the task in front of them. They are together for now, to save Roshar for now. After the battle of champions in SA5, it’s anyone’s guess—mine is that Jasnah will use what she’s learned against him somehow, and he will oppose her directly in pursuit of his own unnamed goal.
There will come a day where they realize the next obstacle they face is each other. They are locked in an embrace with knives in their hands.
TL;DR: Jasnah and Hoid are not in love and it’s okay if you don’t think they’re a good match, because they aren’t, and Brandon has said as much. Their relationship is setting up a mighty, mighty plot point in the back half of Stormlight.
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theholypeanut · 1 year
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Grumpy x Sunshine Multifandom
Characters from Blue Lock, Haikyuu and Kuroko no Basket
On photos are het couples from shoujo mangas, but outside of that gn!reader
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Him Grumpy You Sunshine
You were walking slowly to school until you saw a familiar silhouette of a guy with headphones on. Excited, you run and hug him from behind.
- Hello~! - you chirped with a smile. He looked at you with an annoyance.
- If you’re gonna keep doing this, one day I might accidentally hit you, don’t sneak up on people.
But he knew that no one else in this universe would even try that. Most people have some self - preservation, but you were like a baby chicken who doesn’t sense any danger.
- No, you wouldn’t - you smiled brighter. - So do you have plans after school? Maybe we should go to this new arcade…
You were right, he wouldn’t. And he also wouldn’t want to admit how much he enjoyed you around, even if he couldn’t properly put it into words. No matter how many times he wanted to put distance between you two, you just came back like a wrecking ball. At first he thought he was annoyed, but to be honest, he was just out of his comfort zone. He wasn’t used to someone clinging to him even after he was mean or cold.
- Whoa, did you just smile? - He heard your loud voice getting through to him and snapping him out of his thoughts. He turned his head away from you.
- You are seeing things. Get your eyes checked.
BAROU, RIN, Raichi, Nagi bc he is tired (Blue Lock) Kenma, KAGEYAMA, Tsukishima, Sakusa (Haikyuu) Aomine, Midorima, (Kuroko no Basket)
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You Grumpy, Him Sunshine
- What are you writing? - You heard his voice right next to your ear. He had a really annoying habit of showing up out of thin air and ignoring your private space.
- Homework.
- Whoa, already? Wasn’t it just assigned? You really are a hard worker, Sunshine! - And this stupid nickname again. It was a running joke, as it was quite obvious who was the sunshine between two of you.
Since the beginning of the school year you barely had any occasion to spend some time in silence, because he came along. Always finding you in lunch time and inviting himself over. Asking you to borrow him pens, notebooks, hair ties and hair pins (why? What for?), and even when you told him to just get things himself, he still bothers you on daily basis. At this point you just accepted, that at one point or another of the day, you’ll hear his voice next to your ear, or even worse, he just throw his arm on you and call you “Sunshine”. At the beginning you took into consideration that he was trying to bully you, because of the obvious sarcasm, but the longer you two spend time together, it looks like he was genuine. To be fair, you’d never met a person radiating brighter than a summer sun, but now he is here, showering you with his light. Even worse, it’s not… awful.
- You should do that too, you know. I won’t borrow you mine last minute - you said, not taking eyes of your notes.
- That’s so mean - he pouted. You knew he wasn’t really hurt, but it kind of made you feel uneasy. You opened your bag and hold up juice from the vending machine in front of him.
- Here. I accidentally pressed a wrong button and got it. You can take it. - You didn’t look at him at all, hoping he won’t see a tiny blush on your face.
- Oh you accidentally got my favourite? What a coincidence~ - You could hear just by the tone of his voice what a huge grin showed up on his face.
- If you don’t want it, I’ll take it. - You put the juice box on the table next to your notebook.
- No! It’s mine now! - In split second it was gone. You came back to the last sentence you’ve been writing. - You really like me, don’t you?
- Just drink your damn juice.
BACHIRA, Reo, Ness (Blue Lock) HINATA, BOKUTO, Yamaguchi, Noya, Tendou (Haikyuu!) KISE, Takao, Kiyoshi (Kuroko no Basket)
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By slowlyholypeanut - don’t steal please, give credit
Mangas on the pics are: Koisuru Harinezumi, Tonari no kaibutsu-kun; I don’t own this mangas or this images
The fact that both POVs are from Grumpy shows who am I as a person
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prismatoxic · 6 months
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chilchuck tierlist of babysitting fentripp, people who he absolutely knows he can count to not kill his child and people who he knows will end up doing something wrong (even if by accident)
GOOD QUESTION ANON
the original post about my chilaios fankid, fentripp, for anyone who didn't see it
anyone who isn't here hasn't offered or chilchuck hasn't considered. however i can be persuaded to add more entries with compelling arguments for them
S TIER
Kabru - follows the rules to the letter. will have fen fed, bathed, taught, played with, and asleep by all the exact right times. if anything diverges from the plan, it's because fen is a goblin, not because kabru did anything wrong. fen likes when kabru reads to him, he does funny voices.
Senshi - follows his own ideas of what's best, but shockingly good at it nonetheless. very careful, and considerate, and makes sure he knows where fen is at all times. fen likes him a lot and they always have a really good time together.
Meijack - doesn't want kids of her own, but is pretty good with them anyway, and she's extremely protective of her little brother. knows exactly what chilchuck expects, and also has a pretty good sense of what he'd approve of when instructions are unclear. strikes a perfect balance of making fen have so much fun that he doesn't realize no mischief is actually being caused.
A TIER
Laios - tends to stray off the beaten path a little, but will always defer to his husband so he's never gonna get too wild with it. he also loves fen more than life itself and won't intentionally put him in any manner of harm's way, no matter what. maybe doesn't count as a babysitter since he's literally fen's other dad, but as far as chilchuck is concerned, anyone outside of himself is a risk if he's not also there, so.
Falin - fen is obsessed with her, and the feeling is more or less mutual. she loves him so, so much. but... she's also maybe not chilchuck's ideal as far as babysitting goes, because she's extremely susceptible to the puppy eyes. can drop down to d tier for a few weeks if fen manages to lead her on some batshit adventure, but generally speaking, chilchuck trusts her.
Yaad - similar to kabru in his ability to follow chilchuck's guidelines to a T, and fen does seem to like him, but he's not always fully prepared for what caring for a young child entails. still, he's a decent enough choice, if he's available.
Dandan - weirdly good at this. chilchuck left the guild to him for a reason--dandan's got a good head on his shoulders, something that's only become more true over time--but "babysitting" wasn't a skill chilchuck anticipated him having. he might shirk responsibility from time to time, but in a "alright, you can stay up an extra hour" way, not a neglectful way.
B TIER
Marcille - fen is safe with her, and she'll do her best (and so very badly wants to be the best aunt ever), but she tends to overthink things and can get distracted easily. also, the older he gets, the angrier fen gets if she mentions magic, because he thinks elves are abusing the spirits. (she tries to default to gnome magic around him but he still side-eyes her for a while. don't worry, they bond properly when he's more self-sufficient.)
Namari - a little nervous about caring for a kid by herself, but she's actually really fond of fen. she does most things right, and chilchuck's not necessarily ideologically opposed to her teaching his son dwarfish swear words, but she's more interested in having fun than being a guardian so she's not the perfect choice.
C TIER
Flertom - perfectly decent, most of the time. loves getting to care for a child (desperately wants her own someday). can get a little sidetracked playing pretend-mom, though, and doesn't always have the best ideas for what to do, which doesn't always end well.
D TIER
Puckpatti - way too scatterbrained for this job, and also way too eager to goof off in whatever way fen indicates he thinks would be fun. she's alright with her sisters since they tend to override her poor decisions and keep her on track, but by herself, she's a last resort.
Izutsumi - basically an older sister to fen, but this is rarely a good thing. he loves her and they have great fun together, but leaving them alone is a recipe for disaster, and even kabru's had to step in and shut the idea down officially. "don't put me in a position where i have to explain how a cat and a toddler burned down an entire castle wing."
F TIER
Shuro - not good with kids. actively kind of scared of this one in particular. will agree if asked, but that's because he's bad at saying no, and chilchuck doesn't intend to ask. (and laios needs to stop thinking it'll work out for anyone.)
Mickbell (& Kuro) - only offered to be a nuisance, or at least that's what chilchuck assumes. kuro might be able to handle it on his own in a pinch, maybe, but there's no point trying to peel him and mickbell apart when there are so many better options.
Mithrun - with kabru? passable. by himself? absolutely the fuck not.
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leafsbabe · 1 year
Text
sundress season with Sidney
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- it wouldn’t be a lie to say you had been waiting for him to try something
- but you’d never suspect Sid to start anything while in public
- Sidney was a wonderful lover but he wasn’t really on the kinky side
- so when his hand came to rest on your thigh during a family barbecue at the lake house you didn’t even question it
- his large warm hand fit nicely in the space left by the thigh slit of your dress and helped against the slight chill brought on by the setting sun
- it didn’t seem like he was planning something at all, too busy talking to Nate about a trade that had been announced a few hours prior
- that was until you felt his hand move higher and higher up your thigh, under your dress, and dangerously close to where you were growing hotter every second
- when his hand finally stopped he was close enough that all he would need to do to feel how wet you were getting for him was spread his fingers a little bit
- Sidney seemed so unaffected, with only a little smile on his full lips as he talked to his friend and nothing more
- you on the other hand were very affected
- and then he squeezed your thigh and a shudder ran through you
- naturally his mother noticed
- what she didn't notice from where she was sitting was Sid’s hand and you truly hoped nobody else is either
- instead she asked you if you were cold, all concerned and motherly
- it felt wrong, especially with what her son was doing to you, but you lied to her anyways, just to have an explanation and a chance to get up
- except when you stood up Sid followed, his hand finding the small of your back as if he didn’t almost start something surrounded by his family an friends
- it's almost sweet when he offers to give you one of his sweatshirts since they’re larger and comfier, and to get the fire pit started for some warmth
- he looks like nothing if not a considerate boyfriend as he leads you into the house
- what the others didn't see was the way Sidney crowded you against the nearest wall once you were out of eyesight
- the sudden movement surprised you, head falling back and Sidney taking his chance, head dipping down to connect his lips to your neck before you had the chance to think
- you loved seeing Sid so passionate that he couldn’t hold back but as his hands, both this time, made their way up your legs and gripped your hip under the soft fabric something brought you back to reality
- you held onto his curls, fully intending to pull his head away from your neck when he pressed closer, showing you that he wasn’t unaffected by you either
- instead of fully pulling away his mouth found the tops of your breasts where they were spilling out from the neckline of your sundress
- you wanted to give in
- you wanted to give in so badly
- to let yourself be dragged off into the bedroom or even be taken against the very wall you were being held against by this daring version of Sid but people would get suspicious
- by the time you had made up your mind he was already kneeling in front of you, looking up at you through his dark lashes but you didn’t let yourself give in to the desire
- you tugged on his curls asking him to get up but Sid had other plans
- your underwear, small and lacy and meant for him to discover long after the dinner as a tease before bed, was halfway down your legs before you noticed and off before you could protest
- you watched as he bundled the little piece of fabric up before shoving it into the front pocket of his pants
- the dress you were wearing wasn't short, falling well below the knee with the exception of the thigh slit, perfectly appropriate for a backyard barbecue with your boyfriend’s family but also ideal to conceal your lack of panties
- Sid acted casual, getting up and going into the bedroom by himself only to return moments later with a well loved zip-up hoodie
- he held it up and helped you slip it over your head without unzipping it, laughing when the hood fell into your face
- the walk back to the table felt strange without anything beneath your dress but you tried your hardest not to let it show
- dinner was mostly over anyways so you helped clear the table and stack the dishwasher before heading out again
- the guests that decided to stay sat around the fire the boys had started in the fire pit but instead of pulling up a chair and joining them you walked over to Sid and let yourself fall into his lap
- if he wanted to play dirty fine, but you wouldn’t just take it
- his hands didn't find their way under your dress again but you could tell he wasn't unaffected by your decision
- every time you moved you could feel him, hard and pressed against you and you had to hold back a giggle every time
- as it got later you took mercy on him and changed the way you were sitting to allow him to calm down so he wouldn't see off your company with a hard on
- surprisingly Sidney wasn't on you as soon as everybody was gone
- but the second you were inside you found yourself back against the wall with Sidney on the floor infront of you
- only this time you wouldn't push him away
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