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little-forget-me-not · 5 months

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Summary 2023

This used to be a tradition but it definitely slid off after I stopped writing much in general (especially with uni and all the damned essays) but Reba asked if I was gonna do one, so I feel compelled to try again. I kinda did one for last year too, except I logged it down by the month on my Insta journal. Extremely satisfying to read but a pain to do. Anyway, I’m already getting sidetracked lol. Unlike previous years, I don’t really have categories for these so I’ll probably just note the highlights (I’ll still try to categorise some of them):

University:

Looking back at my entries this year I can see how I was constantly close to burn out and worn thin by stress, and yet I pulled through it. I was genuinely considering dropping out again due to the immense stress…(again)

Yet despite everything, and this is the fact I keep trying to brush away, but I did well. I did really well. I’ve been scoring basically almost consistent As across the board, for every agonising essay, project and exam I had to take on, I did them well. In fact, I was able to balance over 7 different essays that included separate roleplay demonstrations/tests and NOT freak out while still having time to have fun and socialise with my friends both online and irl (mostly Vot). AND also doing over 50 commissions AND finding a part-time job and going there physically to work. Younger me would have died under all that pressure, but I managed it all pretty well. I know I’m hard on myself, so even if I did well it doesn’t always feel that way, but I really did quite alright.

I remember setting a goal this year, which was to push myself out of my comfort zone and to dive headfirst into challenges, such as interacting with people and doing things that I’m afraid of. And I did do it. I was terrified of my lab sessions where we had to roleplay in front of the class, but every time I was the first to volunteer to demonstrate roleplaying in front of the class, and I actively reached out for advice and help. I even organised several practice meet-ups with a classmate who’s now a friend, Kala! I did gain some confidence in my ability. Cyndi tells me to believe in myself, being easier on myself, not to strive so hard for perfection and be more confident as I’ve proved my abilities in both the material and practice. …yet it’s so hard to believe it, still. But I’m not backing down…even if it terrifies me.

Also the graduations I’ve been to has made me realised that I very much would love to have my own graduation too, surrounded by people who love and support me. Mama and Dawn are going to fly over for it ;m; Bea's coming too! I hope to achieve so next year.

Roleplays/Stories:

Really got into roleplays this year, both for school and for leisure. I especially finally got into fantasy thanks to LOTR. Which we watched in cinemas as they were putting out the trilogies with each new week :D Played BALDUR’S GATE 3!!!!!! With Mero! And Vivi! I love rping with Mero with our dumbass jocks.

One of my dreams came true, made so by Aura who started hosting a Pathfinder campaign called Dusk Over Dreamnest. Because of which I’ve managed to write again…for FUN! I’ve been chronicling our sessions AND writing a separate prose piece based on Bull’s POV experiences. Love that creativity.

Also joined a digimon roleplay thanks to Ryou. Honestly came up with great banger designs tis year that I’m really proud of.

Relationships:

I think my heart grew a little this year to make space for more people in it… When I travel to Finland, I realise I miss Vot or my sis, or my private spaces where I can hang out with Mero. I never really used to miss people apart from Dawn that much, so it’s nice to know it. I also miss Luca and mom when I’m back in SG. Especially hanging out with Luca. He’s such great fun. Hung out with him quite a lot this year! Went to bars for the first time, got drunk, discovered I really like non-fizzy cocktails (had the most delicious, creamy and smooth cocktail made with milk, cream and half shots of de kuper butterscotch and raspberry (each)...on and also White Russians, oh and he and Henry got me Bailey’s for Xmas :D), had lots of late night heart-to-hearts, worked out, he taught me how to do proper punches, I built IKEA furniture with him etc. Really enjoy going on holidays with him especially when the social saturation renders Dawn drained and tired. He made me realise I really valued spontaneity, enthusiasm, openness and energy in relationships. I also appreciate and value his brand of masculinity more now, instead of completely dismissing it in others. He’s really coming into his own, and I appreciate our friendship and his trust in me (like omg when he asked out the giftstore employee and immediately called me after it to tell me, I was so proud but also happy he wanted to include me in his exhilaration and triumphs). Anyway I love him too, and he’s like the brother I never had.

I got closer to Vot too! I enjoyed my very first omakase with him as a birthday meal and there’s no one else I’d rather enjoy food with. Oh, also Jason got me a birthday meal of chilli crab (2 of them AAAAAAAAAAAA) and mantou!!!!! Really made up for the tragic birthday I had last year (which was I spent my birthday with Vot this year instead). Oh and he gave me a laser-printed wooden keychain of Nuki that he drew, with forget-me-nots engraved at the back ;m; Had many great hangouts with Vot, really. He’s a very, very dear person to me. He was one of the few people I can reach out to and able to be vulnerable with. I rarely call anyone when I experience distress (except for Dawn and on occasion Mero) but it’s so nice to know I can rely on more people now. Oh, I also developed a love for board games thanks to Vot. I used to hate them but I genuinely enjoy them now (and am sad when people don’t join me)

Played Persona 5 Royal with my sis! I can’t believe we first played it in 2017?! It’s been with us for 6 years and replaying the remastered version with her has been such a fun part of the year. It reminds me of all the fun times we used to have with each other, and she’s let me know of how important and valued those times have been for her. Persona 5 is like a CORE memory/connection for us. My sis loves me. Through her graduation and her new air stewardess job, she’s kept me in mind. Apparently she saw a co-worker with a nice pixie-cut and asked them for their hairdresser’s number so she could pass it to me (before reconsidering it because she thought I probably wouldn’t like the back cut). And she tells everyone about me?? She speaks highly of me. She was saying, “You like me? That’s because of my sis” xD Even someone she only knew for 11 days knows of me. It’s incredibly heartening… She also genuinely wants to make our Persona 5 Strikers Japan trip a reality and knowing that makes me want to make it so too. She also thought of me when she saw that there was a Joe Hisaishi concert and bought us tickets (I gotta pay her back, but she covered fees for me ;m;). Through her, I recognised the impact of my chronic depression… I noticed she’d say stuff like “You’d better not die before …” or “You cannot die…” etc whenever she feels truly fond/affectionate/appreciative of me. It made me a little sad but grateful for the sobering realisation of my impact. I spent so long suffering and struggling to stay alive that it made many of the people who did care about me genuinely afraid for my expiration. I definitely say that a lot less now…about wanting to die when depression gets too overwhelming. Or at least I only share it with a very select few when it gets too bad.

Dawn has been a huge part of my life this year, every year, forever, hopefully. My love for her grows every year and it’s a mutual thing, and I appreciate the freedom and honesty we share about how we feel about each other, and the sad reality that we are incompatible as married companions. She once told me that she wish she was a different person so she could marry me without a thought. Which was honestly really sweet, but I’m also glad she has become someone who honours her own desires and self, and that she thanks me for it. I feel safe in the knowledge and expression of her love. It’s really nice to know that I am loved and to have it be such…a given now. I think she’s spoiled me though. I realised I’m pretty lazy and indulgent and can be very much a “princess” when given the space to be so x’D Oops. I still learn about myself when I’m with her. Also she’s really impressed me this year with her own growth and self-imposed challenges that help her develop traits she’s struggled with (like she reads so many books now..all with complicated text). I never would have pegged her to be such an erudite but then again, it doesn’t completely surprise me, but the resolve and drive she’s shown for it is incredible and inspiring.

Hung out with more classmates this year…like Allan and Kala and I’ve made an effort to learn and remember more about people. I’m genuinely fond of Allan now and I do miss him when I’m in Singapore. I went to his graduation! He was the valedictorian! I met his husband!

I’m getting tired so I’mm rapid-fire these: Relationship with dad increased. He actually came up to me out of nowhere and passed me $200 as encouragement and to congratulate me of doing a good job with my studies. …I’m…it meant a lot and I was pleasantly shocked. His relationship with Jen has really improved relations in general. I’ve thought of him more because of such. He’s also helped me a lot with my medical bills ;m; Also mom, I’m more…interested in being a part of my family’s life..

Reconnected and met up with Ryoukishi. They were really nice and treated me to korean bbq and hotpots ;; And they shared their love of Digimon with me, and I got into it!

Mental Health:

Doubled my meds. I think it’s making a difference? I don’t really know, but from medical reports, it sounds like it is making a difference. I still feel the weight of depression and oftentimes this year I felt like I was regressing instead of progressing. But Bea said that when one is in a really dark and long tunnel, you are still moving even though it doesn’t always feel like it. Still heading towards the light, and she sees it. And that’s heartening.

Realised that I’m literally almost always overstimulated in SG which is probably why I’m in an almost perpetual state of discomfort x’D Apart from being lonely, which only heightens the discomfort. Somehow it helps to know that. Also when I got incredibly stressed I legit thought I was showing signs of psychosis.

Allan said something about not needing to suffer to succeed and I’m trying to keep that in mind.

Slightly more attempts at acknowledging my strengths instead of dismissing them…not much but some. I wrote some here. Inspired by Reba:

“You’re quick to take responsibility for mistakes, but you have the opposite for positive things. You don’t own the good things and attribute them to luck or chance, as if they have nothing to do with you. You should take responsibility for the good things too.”

For instance, W invited me to take the EFIT course despite it only being largely available to people who signed up for a separate course because it required an in-depth understanding of attachment theory. But W shared that she was so impressed with how well-written my essay was that she noted me as, “this one can”, and then encouraged me to take the course while subsidising the fees. I do write good essays. And I can leave favourable impressions. She even invited me to work part-time for her, to help out with her invoicing and administrative stuff and in compensation, not only do I get paid $15/h, I’m also getting sponsored EFT training, which is a modality I am interested in. I also facilitated a successful couple’s counselling session which was crazy.

Other stuff:

Discovered and went to EFT (I learnt that this is a modality I'm geuninely interested in. Honestly kinda thinking of going to pursue a masters lmao but idk)

Made lu rou fan for the first time

Got a new guitar and tried learning music!

Began some brainspotting

Got mortar and pestle

Played many cool games. Like Disco Elysium (more roleplay!!!!)

Created my future vision board.

Entered an Armello competition. Won the first round with Ghor!

Sis graduated. Made me realised I would really like to have my own graduation.

Reba got me really a really cute handcrafted sushi keycap ;m;

Made new OCs like Breakfast, Kappa, Beanie (redesigned), Bullorgruokh, Ten, Martivihlar, Rae’zel and Kachimon! It’s been great to feel connected and invested in characters again.

Doubled up on my bed haha!

Tried mämmi, köyhät ritarit, for the first time and I love them! Ate reindeer steak. So GOOD.

Went to Desucon in Lahti!

Had an amazing summer! I made a video for the first time in forever chronicling our time together in Lapland.

Watched a ton of anime and shows with Aura and Luca. PMMM, Bubble, Mob Psycho 3, LOTR, Doctor Stone, Psycho Pass, Kimi ni Todoke (season 1+2), Physical 100, Bluey (fucking love Bluey), Death Note, Vinland Saga, ……just a ton that I don’t even remember now.

Learnt more about myself…maybe became more accepting about physical desires/needs (like intimacy, more casual than spiritual)

Also I learnt that I'm really impatient and restless sometimes so bye this year was pretty dope despite me being so stressed for more than half of it but I'm feeling good rn so I wanna end it on a good note!

#top things of the year #rei talks

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whythinktoomuch · 3 years

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Andrea sighs. “I hate this part.”

“And what part would that be?” Kara spares a small glance for her, but continues to tug on her socks, her shoes, and anything else that she might need on her way out of Andrea’s apartment without a second thought. Again.

“The part where you make me sleep alone.”

Kara whips her head around. “… I’m sorry?”

“Nothing.”

Andrea regrets everything as she buries her head underneath her pillow. Maybe she can blame this sudden onset of weakness on her most recent trend of foregone sleep, or maybe even the very reason for said lack of sleep now standing at the foot of her soon-to-be half-emptied bed. But it certainly isn’t something that deserves any more elaboration, much less voiced.

Unfortunately though, Kara’s never been one to let something go. The rustle of clothing dies away, leading to a padding of steps which leads to the sagging of Andrea’s bed as Kara sits down beside her. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Andrea repeats, her voice firm despite being muffled under her pillow. “Make sure to lock the door on your way out.”

“No, come on…” Kara’s tugging on Andrea’s arm, thumb rubbing gently into her skin. “Talk to me. Please? I’m right here.”

Groaning to herself, Andrea finally sits up, frown deeply set and disgruntled. “Where are you even going anyway?”

Kara takes a deep breath before answering, and Andrea hates how these are the kinds of things that refuse to escape her notice now. “I told you,” Kara says slowly. “I’m meeting a source downtown.”

“Right now? After midnight?” Andrea says with a scoff. “You don’t have a better, more business-friendly time—I don’t know—during the day to be meeting up with these people?”

“I have to go where the story takes me! And I also have to meet my sources on their own terms if I want to cultivate a lasting sense of trust and profess—”

“But for what article?” Andrea demands. “You’ve already met all your deadlines for this week. You wouldn’t be here”—she gestures aimlessly about her bed—“otherwise, so what else could you possibly be researching right now?”

“It’s…” Kara stumbles slightly, and Andrea wills her heart to harden into something that can never sink. “This is for a new story. One that I’m thinking about pitching. Soon.”

“Okay. What story?”

“I can’t tell you yet! It’s not ready,” Kara says, and Andrea just scoffs again. “Hey, seriously. What’s really bothering you? You never care about my work.”

“I’m your boss, Kara. It’s literally my job to care about your work.”

“Just tell me what’s actually bothering you, and I’ll fix it.”

Andrea rubs at her face. “I’d just… really like to know what it’s like to sleep next to my girlfriend for once…”

“Your girlfriend?” Kara echoes. “Who’s your girl—oh!” Her eyebrows nearly shoot up to her hairline. “Wait, oh…”

Groaning once more, now about ready to bury her entire body beneath her pillow if possible, Andrea just waves her hand. “Never mind, okay? Just go.”

“No, hey, hey, hey…” Kara tugs on Andrea’s wrist, refusing, per usual, to let an unwieldy moment die down on its own. “Girlfriend?”

“Forget I even said anything…” Andrea starts, but Kara seems quite unwilling to. In fact, she’s looking at Andrea in complete awe, and Andrea can’t help but straighten up at the attention. Maybe even pushing out her chest a bit just to make a point. “All right, fine, we can talk about this. But you should know right now, that I can’t date anyone who refuses to sleep with me.”

“Pfft, what do you mean? We literally sleep with each other all the time,” Kara protests, until Andrea shoots her a meaningful look—glare. “Oh… Right. You meant, just sleeping, sleeping. Um. Okay. Well, I guess that’s something we can try if you really want…”

Andrea rolls her eyes. “I don’t want you to try it just to appease me, Kara. I want you to want it too. For your own sake.”

“I do want it too! I just didn’t realize that it was something that you’d want. From me, especially.”

“Why the hell not?” Andrea says. “I’m sorry—was the past hour and a half not convincing enough for you?”

Kara flushes all over, sputtering, “No, what I meant was… I didn’t realize that you actually liked me like that?”

“Again. Was the past hour and—”

“I get your point,” Kara says, flapping her hands. “And okay. I, you know… like you too.”

“Oh, how promising,” Andrea mutters, but her nerves were undeniably starting to settle. The flow of conversation now comfortably in her favor.

“And I do want that too,” Kara continues, cracking a smile. “So… let’s do it. Let’s be girlfriends who, you know, sleep together.”

“Deal.” Andrea clears her throat, fidgeting with her sheets. “I imagine that it’ll have to start another night though, no?”

Kara rubs at the back of her neck. “I’m sorry. I just really have to meet this source tonight. It’s really important, I swear.”

“Fine,” Andrea says in a sigh. “It’s not like I don’t understand the need to put one’s career first.”

Kara pouts. She reaches out to cradle Andrea’s face, thumb tracing down her cheek, and Andrea’s not melting, she’s not melting, she’s not.

“I’ll come back,” Kara says at last. “No matter how long this meeting goes for, I promise to come straight back here and sleep with you.”

“Oh, you promise?” Andrea laughs, but there’s a serious glint to Kara’s eyes, twinkling in the way that they do in the strangest moments sometimes.

“Absolutely. I’ll be right back. And I’ll be right here for you, okay?”

Andrea lets out another laugh, ducking her head slightly. “Okay. I guess we’ll see how you do then.”

“Thank you,” Kara says, beaming. “But for now, I really do have to go. I’m actually kinda late now.”

“Then go. I ain’t keeping ya.”

Kara leans in, clearly in askance of a goodbye kiss, but when Andrea goes to cup her face, Kara resists just a tad. “Trust me,” she says. “You kiss me like that, and I’ll never make it out of here.”

“Want to test that little theory?” Andrea asks, her voice dropped into huskier territory, and Kara accordingly flushes pink cheek to cheek.

“Oh… boy…” Kara says in a hushed whisper. “I… er, I gotta go though, so…” She quickly shakes her head. “Yup, gotta go, gotta go. So sorry, but bye!” Pecking at Andrea’s cheek, Kara all but bolts out the door.

With a tiny unseen pout, Andrea sinks back into her bed, her moment of vulnerability already regretted with that aching part of her chest. But Kara promised to come back, and she seems the type to keep promises like that—the girlfriend type, that is.

Andrea’s final thought as she’s drifting off is a fleeting hope that wherever Kara’s rushing off to meet her source wouldn’t be anywhere near the sirens that have been going off. The last thing this would-be relationship needs is for Andrea’s would-be girlfriend to get stuck in traffic this late at night because of fire trucks or something.

Andrea wakes up to a sudden dip in her bed, coherent thoughts still slow to return as a column of warmth wraps around her middle from behind. She blinks blearily into the darkness. The sharp bite of smoke lingering in the air somehow only seems to get stronger the clearer her vision gets.

“Sorry I’m late, baby,” comes a sleepy mumble close to her ear, and Andrea starts to chuckle, her surprise melting into blessed relief.

There’s a wry comment sitting on Andrea’s tongue as she glances over her shoulder, but the specifics of it all gets lost when she sees Supergirl curled up against her. “Whoa. W-wait…”

“Oh, m’s’rry…” Supergirl says softly, eyes still squeezed shut. “Forgot to ask… Can I call you ‘baby’ now, since we’re girlfriends who sleep together and stuff…?”

Andrea is reeling, as she takes in the sight. That is to say, the sight of National City’s darling and daring hero rapidly passing out in her bed, blonde hair strewn across Kara’s go-to pillow like a golden halo, her bulk scrunched up into a tiny ball of warmth pressed into Andrea’s side, cape splayed out without a care.

“You’re…” Andrea clears her throat, hopefully ridding herself of the dry stutter caught within. “Excuse me, you’re wearing boots in my bed.”

Supergirl lets out a small whine—there’s a literal, bona fide superhero whining all disgruntled in Andrea’s bed right now—and kicks out her feet. “But I’m so tired, maybe-baby.”

“Maybe-baby,” Andrea echoes, rolling her eyes, because okay, this is definitely Kara all right.

She manages to extricate herself from Kara’s embrace with surprising ease, considering, then manages to tug Supergirl’s boots off one by one with far less ease. But the sight that Andrea’s greeted with startles her into soft laughter.

“Hey. What’s so funny…”

“I like your socks,” Andrea says, slipping back under the sheets, eyes fluttering shut when Kara sidles right up against her once more. “You know, you weren’t wearing those when you left me.”

“Is it really leaving when I come right back?”

“Yes.”

Kara snorts, burying herself into Andrea’s hair with a sigh. “Mm, I like my socks too. Was a gift from Santa,” she says, and Andrea can almost feel Kara wiggling her toes. “I like the smilin’ fruits…”

“Yes, I figured you would.”

Kara lets out a mock scandalized gasp, “It’s s’pposed to be secret Santa, you know…”

“You know what else is supposed be a secret?” Andrea shoots back, arching an eyebrow that is of course lost on her half-asleep almost-girlfriend. But Kara seems to know, because she grins.

“Hm. We can talk about it in the morning, mm’kay?”

“Oh, we most certainly will,” Andrea says, turning on her side, allowing herself to be happily spooned. “Good night, Supergirl.”

“Yeah, yeah, good night, maybe-baby.”

#bloooooooop.#my words.#superrojas

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heyiwrotesomethings · 3 years

Text

Warmth

Bela Dimitrescu x They/Them Reader

A/N: Yes, I’ve contracted the RE8 fever, and a bit late at that, what about it? Anyway, hope ya’ll like it. I don’t think there is anything that I should have to warn any of you about but let me know if I’m wrong. Word Count: 2,176

Being the fire stoker for the Dimitrescu daughters was simultaneously the best and worst job in the castle. It was the best job in that the daughters saw them as too valuable to kill or maim since they did their job so well. It made the daughters actually quite appreciative of them. Worst because if (Y/n) were to, god forbid, let a fire die in one of the girl’s rooms, their own light would be just as quickly snuffed out for such an error. That appreciation could turn to devastating hate on a dime if they were to slip up.

Winter was the most critical season. (Y/n) was often running room to room stoking the fires of each daughter’s most favorite areas of the castle to keep the most desirable temperatures. Often times they would fall asleep in the halls outside of the most at risk rooms and jerk awake at the slightest drop in temperature. Lady Dimitrescu had caught them dozing off once and scared them terribly when they awoke. Luckily, the Lady simply rolled her eyes and continued on her way, but not before reminding (Y/n) how easily a fire could fizzle out without the proper care and consideration. A warning.

The castle was huge, (Y/n) wished to argue, it wasn’t their fault that the daughters and their favorite rooms were so spread out. They’d like to see the Lady tend to every fire all throughout the harsh Romanian winter and see how long she could go without suffering from exhaustion. Well, on second thought, could the Lady even get tired? (Y/n) shook their head and sighed, rubbing at their bloodshot eyes. Lady Bela’s room was next in the rotation so they made their way to her wing while checking the state of their matchbook. They’d need to visit the kitchens to get a new one soon.

As they neared Lady Bela’s chambers they noted a slight chill which made their blood run cold.

“No, it can’t be...!” They gasped, fully sprinting down the hall now. They somehow remembered decorum despite the frenzy they had worked themself into and knocked upon the door, announcing their presence before stepping in. Their heart dropped to their feet.

The fire had completely died and Lady Bela was shivering in her bed, only her golden eyes could be seen staring at (Y/n) from beneath the covers as they rushed to the fire place with trembling hands.

“I’m so sorry Lady Bela!” They apologized fervently. How could this have happened? They had the timing down to a science! They had gotten too comfortable as Lady Dimitrescu had suggested and now the eldest daughter was sure to kill them for their carelessness. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know how this could have happened! I swear I’ll fix this, you’ll warm up in no time!”

Soon enough, the fire was blazing, the snap of the wood causing (Y/n) to flinch back. They heard the rustling of sheets and saw a black silk nightgown in their left periphery before they scrunched their eyes tightly shut. This was it, they had outgrown their usefulness. They held their breath and waited to be dragged away by Bela’s sickle but the biting pain never came. Instead, they were enveloped in chilled arms and wrapped in a luxurious duvet. An Ice cold nose dug into their neck and made them flinch.

“You will warm me. Move before I allow it and this will be the last fire you tend to.” Bela shivered and chattered against (Y/n)’s neck.

“Y—yes Lady Bela. Of course.” (Y/n) replied, back stiffening as Bela moved curl up in their lap. It was a bit awkward considering she was taller than most, but once settled she seemed pleased enough.

They sat like that for what felt like hours to (Y/n). Enough time to make their legs cramp and back ache. If Bela didn’t let them go soon, they were sure they’d have more than one displeased Dimitrescu sister to worry about. Fortunately, Lady Bela seemed to have grown tired of them and rose from their lap with a sigh before languidly moving back to her bed.

“Move along little human, if you let Cassandra’s fire go out I can’t say she will be as merciful as I.” Bela informed, looking back at (Y/n) over her shoulder with half lidded eyes.

“Yes, of course! Thank you Lady Bela, I swear I’ll never let it happen again!” (Y/n) bowed deeply before running out of the bedroom, shutting the door tight and quick not only to keep the heat in, but to hinder Bela a moment if she decided to change her mind on being merciful. They ran down the hall like a bullet leaves a gun to tend to Cassandra’s fire next, praying it hadn’t met the same early death as Bela’s.

***

It happened again.

It happened again and (Y/n) was absolutely beside themself. They had never been so sloppy in their life and even if Bela wasn’t going to kill them they almost wanted to sickle their own shoulder for their ineptitude.

“Tell me, what did you promise me yesterday little human?” Bela taunted from the bed while (Y/n) frantically stoked the fire to a roaring blaze.

“I— I don’t know what to say Lady Bela, I am disgusted with myself. Truly, I’ve never—“

“Hush now.” Bela glared from the pile of soft covers. If she wasn’t a vampiric bug woman with murderous tendencies, the scene would have been adorable. But (Y/n) knew better than to entertain the thought for long. Then Bela stretched her hand out from beneath her mountain of blankets.

“Come, warm me little human.”

“Whatever you wish, Lady Bela!” (Y/n) nodded, giving the fire one last look as if to say, ‘behave!’ and then they quickly stood beside Bela’s bed. There was no time to be shy when Bela lifted the covers, (Y/n) dove right in and let Bela maneuver them however she wished.

Unlike the day before, this warming position was much more comfortable and so much more dangerous. (Y/n) could feel that they were starting to drift off in the luxurious bed. If they fell asleep here, surely they would not wake again. Well, that might actually be kind. Who wants to be awake for their death anyway?

“I can feel your heart slowing, little human. Perhaps you’d best be on your way before you succumb to sleep and leave another fire to die.” Bela whispered a bit snidely.

“Right!” (Y/n) shot up and fell out of the bed, scrambling to their feet and anxiously smoothing the covers back down, “Thank you again for your mercy, Lady Bela. I’ll do better!”

“See to it that you do.” Bela replied airily as (Y/n) left the room. They failed to notice the small smile curling Bela’s lips as she watched them go.

***

Two weeks. Nine out of the fourteen days Bela’s fire had died before (Y/n) could stoke it. Sometimes, it even happened twice in one day and (Y/n) was dangerously close to a mental break. Bela, miraculously, seemed to have the patience of a saint and had yet to kill (Y/n) for their failures, simply making the fire stoker warm her with their body before sending them away. Despite the circumstances that preceded the impromptu cuddling sessions, (Y/n) couldn’t help but enjoy every moment they held Bela close or visa versa. It was actually really nice. They would have been lying if they said they hadn’t felt an attraction for the eldest daughter growing within them as they became used to life in the castle.

That didn’t mean (Y/n) didn’t feel horrible though. Each failure, every shiver drawn from Bela’s body, hacked at them like an axe and it was only a matter of time before they became the timber for the next fire.

So they set out for today to go differently, they quickly stoked Daniela’s fire and the one in the library, as well as the parlor, before bounding over to Bela’s room to arrive nearly half an hour earlier than usual. They knocked, announcing their presence, before promptly opening the door. They were already halfway across the room when they glanced up, pausing mid step when they saw Lady Bela out of bed standing over the fireplace. She stared back with wide golden eyes, seemingly frozen in time as well if not for the trickle of water pouring from the small bucket in her hands.

The sizzle of the water meeting the hot wood drew (Y/n)’s eyes to the fireplace and they watched slack jawed as smoke billowed and the small fire drowned into nothingness.

“...what?” (Y/n) whispered, their eyes shifting back to Bela who had the decency to look thoroughly embarrassed before fruitlessly hiding the bucket behind her back. The unusually meek display from the eldest Dimitrescu daughter seemed to spark (Y/n) to speak further out of turn, though words did not seem to be coming easily to them as they just continued to say, ‘what’, only getting louder and sounding more confused and utterly flabbergasted with each utterance. Their arms gestured between Bela and the sodden, burnt wood several times before Bela finally groaned and tossed the empty bucket into the nearest corner of her room with a clatter and a dull thud against the carpet.

“That’s enough!” Bela said sternly, causing (Y/n)’s jaw to snap back shut. She stalked over to them and lifted them by their shirt, quickly pushing them back against a wall in such a way that left their feet slightly above the floor as their hands scrambled to hold onto Bela’s.

“You will speak about this to no one!” She hissed, a buzzing sound emitting from her chest.

“My Lady,” (Y/n) wheezed, “I won’t say anything I swear!”

Bela scrutinized them closely before lowering them back down with a shallow nod.

“Good. Now,” she cleared her throat sheepishly before turning back towards her bed, “light the fire.”

(Y/n) didn’t need to be asked twice, scrambling to their knees in front of the fireplace. As they replaced the soggy wood with fresh timber, their mind raced. Why would Lady Bela douse her fire only to demand it be relit? Why would she do such a thing when she was so susceptible to the cold?

Once the fire was blazing once more, they tentatively turned to Bela, watching as she sat on the edge of her bed and stared at her feet. If (Y/n) couldn’t know the motives behind such a play, they were sure to lose their mind. So, they tested their luck and addressed Bela who gave them a warning look.

“Lady Bela, forgive me, but why ever would you douse your fire? Lady Dimitrescu had informed me of how important it is that you and your sisters stay warm when she assigned me this position. And... well, please forgive me if I’m wrong, you seemed to have made a bit of a habit out of it...”

Bela clenched her fists and growled, making (Y/n) jump to their feet.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” They said, making a dash to the door only to bump into a wall of Bela’s flies. This had to be it. They should have just kept their mouth shut!

“Stop panicking, little human.” Bela sighed and finished reforming in front of (Y/n). The fire stoker nodded, but their heart still beated ferociously in their chest. Being told to stop panicking by a Dimitrescu was like a great white shark telling a bleeding seal in open water to do the same.

“I’m only going to say this once so listen closely,” Bela averted her eyes for a moment and bit her lip before focusing back in on (Y/n), “you’re beautiful... handsome? Pleasant to look at and very warm and soft, sweet. I can’t very well snuggle up to a fire without being burned so I... stop looking at me like that.”

(Y/n) had a cute little smile on their face that seemed to be growing by the second. Their eyes were bright and alert as they soaked in every word and Bela couldn’t stop the small smirk tugging at her own lips.

“If it’s cuddling you wish for my Lady, you need only ask. I do enjoy the time we’ve been spending together as of late. Well, minus the heart attacks every time I see the fire’s dead.” (Y/n) informed.

“Just please,” they added, “no more fire sabotaging. I hate to see you shiver.”

“Easy enough,” Bela hummed before pulling (Y/n) back to her bed with visible excitement in her eyes, “hurry now, you got here early today so we have extra time!”

Before, Bela had been rather stiff with her demands. It was like (Y/n) was warming a block of ice wary of melting, but now she all but flung herself at (Y/n) with no inhibitions now that her secret was out. She hummed pleasantly and (Y/n) wiggled in her hold while icy fingers trailed beneath their shirt to settle on heated skin. It was shaping up to be a rather eventful winter.

#re8 oneshots #resident evil oneshots #bela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu x reader #resident evil village oneshots

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solarwonux · 3 years

Text

10. I still remember the way you taste.

yoongi x f!reader

w.c: 3.8k (YES I GOT CARRIED AWAY SUE ME)

warnings: smut, semi unprotected sex, make up sex, some angst. Briefly edited.

note: lol i think I forgot how to write smut but anyway, hi, um, yes I got carried away lmao. But yeah let me know your thoughts. Send me a drabble prompt hehe. Thank you for reading I hope you enjoy.

drabble game

“I still remember the way you taste.” Yoongi’s knee is wedged in between your thighs as he attacks your neck in desperate open-mouthed kisses. “Yoongi, f-fuck, s-stop.” You say in between pants, placing your hands against his chest in an attempt to create some sort of space between the two of you.

Yoongi smirks against your skin and lifts his head, eyeing you down, pushing his hips further into yours, showing you how much he needed you. “I’ve been holding back from you all weekend. The guys even have a bet going on to see how long I can keep my distance from you.” His hand travels down the side of your body, bunching your silk dress up to your thighs. “Safe to say Jungkook, Hoseok, and Seokjin have lost.”

You roll your eyes. “God, don’t talk about them right now.” You run a finger down his clothed chest, stopping above the first button of his vest. “At least not when you’re about to fuck me in the bathroom of your best friend’s wedding reception” You pop the first button, earning an enticing low groan from your ex-boyfriend.

“Hey!” He exclaims flicking your forehead lightly, “he’s your best friend too.”

“Yoongi, I’m serious I hear their names come out of your lips one more time and I’ll leave you to take care of yourself.” You say as he apologizes with a nod of his head. You unbutton the next two buttons of his vest, stopping before pushing it off his body finally taking in the situation and your surroundings. The bathroom wasn’t dirty, nor was it clean. It had a musty smell making you wonder if someone had already done the deed before the two of you walked in. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this here.” You quirk a questioning eyebrow.

He shakes his head in disbelief, “I’m not walking through the reception and the hotel lobby with a boner.” He grinds his hips against yours, proving his point. You let out a moan throwing your head back, hitting the wall behind you lightly. He felt so good, and if it wasn’t for the fact that the hand dryer was painfully digging into your back. You would’ve agreed with his statement.

“Just stay behind me, I’ll cover you. Who’s room is closer?” You push him away, finally creating the distance you needed. You turn to face the mirror, fixing your smudged lipstick. Yoongi was shocked, staring at you. God, you were so sexy, the product of his late-night escapades by himself. Especially after the two of you had mutually called it quits.

All throughout the weekend you were driving him crazy, reeling him in to then push him away. He suspects that was your revenge for breaking up with you. One you only agreed to because you knew that once his mind was set on something, there was no way to talk him out of it.

He had almost survived. Almost. That small buzzword was thrown out the window the second you entered the green room where he and all the rest of the groomsmen were waiting in to let them know the ceremony was going to start in five minutes. The long silk lilac dress you were wearing left little to his imagination, one he didn’t have to use much because he had spent years memorizing every single part of your body.

You giggle at his dazed look, sending him a wink through the mirror before turning to face him again, planting a slow sensual kiss against his lips, pulling away before he could respond. “Hurry up or I might change my mind.” You pat his chest and walk past him. “I’ll wait outside.” You say in a sing-song voice and Yoongi was now fully convinced you were messing with him. Exuding your revenge and he had foolishly fallen into your trap.

The walk through the reception was a nightmare.

Yoongi felt like he couldn’t breathe, his hand sweating in between yours. He sent glares into your back and they only got worse every time you stopped to talk about your new start-up business, with someone he barely recognized. He was proud of you for finally leaving your job. He had witnessed many of your angry breakdowns, his heart shattering every time you cried into his chest because of how unhappy you were working for your dream company. That when he finally got word that you had left and started your own company, boldly rivaling your old one. The sigh of relief he let out was monumental. He was proud of you and would’ve told you, praised you, as you happily explained your ideas. That’s if he was thinking with his head and heart not his dick, which was straining painfully against the waistband of his slacks. If it wasn’t for his suit jacket doing most of the work in hiding it he would’ve died out of pure agony and embarrassment.

“We finally found an office and we’re moving in when Jimin gets back from his honeymoon. Sadly, he says I’m not allowed to start decorating without him, scared I’ll put an outside fountain in the middle of the whole place.” You say, prompting a booming laugh from Jimin’s dad.

Jimin’s mom shakes her head, “he gets his perfectionism from my side of the family, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry, honestly, I don’t have an ounce of interior design in my body, so I’d rather he be there to supervise before he yells at me saying that I’ve ruined everything.”

Yoongi could feel the sweat start to pool above his brow, tuning you and Jimin’s parents out. He had never felt this needy in his entire life. He supposes it's the adrenaline rush of seeing you in such a revealing dress or the fact that he missed you. The last year and a half without you had been awful. Everything reminded him of you and he had to fight the urge to just call you. He never did. Afraid you had found it in yourself to finally hate him for breaking your heart.

“Yoongi, sweetheart, are you okay?” Jimin’s mom asked, placing the back of her hand against his forehead, making him flinch. “Oh dear, you’re burning up, maybe you should go lay down.” The worry in her voice was evident, melting his heart. Jimin’s parents always treated him like he was one of their own, welcoming him with open arms when Jimin had first invited him and the guys over for lunch after school almost ten years ago. When Yoongi’s parents had kicked him out for choosing to study music production instead of something ‘meaningful’ they had taken him and even offered to pay for his school expenses. He owed them a lot, and if circumstances were different he would’ve thanked them profusely, just like he always did.

“I think he has a fever so I’m going to walk him back to his room.” You nod your head, letting go of his hand and looping your arm with his. “It must’ve been the shrimp appetizer, he’s never been good with seafood, right baby?” The evil glint in your eye was too much. You’re teasing was getting too much for him to handle. He’s never seen this side of you. It excited him.

“Right!”

“Oh please, hurry, we’ll let Jimin know you had to leave early I’m sure he’ll understand.” Jimin’s mom said, pushing the two of you towards the exit.

Once the two of you were away, closer to the double doors of the reception hall you leaned in, “How are you holding up?”

“Get me out of here before I drag you to the nearest bathroom again.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” You hold your hand out before Yoongi can step any closer to your body. A sound of annoyance erupting from his chest. Once upon a time, Yoongi had prided himself in being patient. Tonight was not one of those times.

The second the two of you were alone in the elevator, his hands and mouth were all over you. Painting beautiful flowers with his mouth against your skin. The noises he had elicited from you made his chest swell with pride and his cock throb painfully against his pants. Every ounce of self control he once harbored was long gone. He didn’t want to miss another second where he wasn’t touching you.

Yoongi had almost lost his mind while you were fumbling to get the door to your hotel room open. Though, that was mainly his fault, he literally couldn’t keep his hands off of you.

Yet, now that you were finally in the safety of your hotel room, Yoongi didn’t understand why you were still resisting him and it made him even more frustrated both sexually and emotionally. “What, what do I have to wait for now, I’m so close to coming in my pants please just let me fuck you.” He all but begged, even considered getting down on his knees and kissing the ground you walked on. Though, when he saw you smirk, he knew he had done exactly what you had hoped he would do.

“Fuck you.” He closed the distance, sighing when you innocently took a step back.

“I’m trying to but I need to take my shoes off.” You pouted, pointing to your heel cladded feet in front of you, arms behind your back as you swayed from side to side. Yoongi shook his head before taking you into your arms and walking you backwards until the back of your knees hit the bed. You fell back sitting down as Yoongi got down on his knees in front of you.

“Are you punishing me?” He asked with a pout on his lips.

You giggled placing both of your hands against his cheeks and squishing them. “Yes.” You affirmed kissing his lips, “I think you deserve it for leaving me.” You gave his cheeks a light tap. “Now get to work or I’ll kick you out.”

Yoongi scoffed, placing your left foot on top of his knees. His fingers unbuckling the buckle around your ankle slowly, his eyes burning holes into your soul. You swallowed nervously as he slipped it off, his lips connecting with the skin of your ankle, kissing the tiny stick n poke tattoo he had given you after a particularly stressful week of finals, almost three years ago.

It was crooked. The points of the star weren’t as perfect as he would’ve liked them to be. But it had been entirely your fault. You kept moving, yelping out in dramatized agony every time he poked the needle into your skin, tears welling up in the corner of your eyes. He knew you were just doing it to scare him. Your pain tolerance was higher than any normal human being, which is why he continued his masterpiece, ignoring your pleas to stop. Nevertheless, with a childish pout you had expressed your love for it in more ways than one and vowed to never cover it up no matter what.

You had kept true to your word.

“I didn’t mean to.” He sighed, kissing your inner thigh, then moving to the other one. He had long removed your other heel and was now showering you with all the kisses he hadn’t been able to give you in the last year and a half. “I didn’t want to break up with you.”

His hands traveled up the side of your legs, pushing your dress up further until the white lace of your panties were visible to his soft eyes. He bit his lip, taking in how much of an effect he still had on you. In all honesty, it made him feel on top of the world that your body was still so responsive to his touch.

“Why did you?” Your voice wavered and you blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay. Though, you had agreed with his decision to break things off. It had hurt more than you had intended it to hurt. You were left dazed and confused wondering how he could just wake up one day and decide that you weren’t enough for him anymore.

“You stopped chasing your dreams because of me.” The guilt he had felt every time he held you while you cried out in anger spilled out. The tears now fell down your eyes while he laid you down, taking your dress with him, bringing it over your head and throwing it to the side knocking over the glass of water you kept on your nightstand every night.

You jumped hitting his chest, “That dress was expensive.” You sniffed and wrapped your arms around his neck, “you’re the biggest idiot I know, I hate you.” You said, burying your head into his chest, mascara staining his pristine white dress shirt, while you unbuttoned it.

He knew you weren’t crying because of the dress, but this was also not what he meant when he wanted to have you crying tonight. You were right, he was an idiot.

“I’m sorry,” he pleaded, grabbing your head making you look at him. His own eyes were now filled with tears as he wiped away your own. “I didn’t know what else to do. You weren’t happy.” He kissed your cheek then moved down to your neck, tonguing the spot underneath your ear that he knew would have you weak in your knees. “I-I wasn’t happy.” He confessed against your skin.

He had never once said it out loud and now that he had, while you pushed his shirt off his shoulders, undressing him further, he felt childish. “You could’ve just talked to me about it.” You sighed moving your hands down his chest, your manicured nails scraping his skin lightly. He shuddered, the coldness of your touch was something he had never been able to get used to. He had missed it.

“I know.” He licked down your neck, his fingers playing with your bottom lip, taping it lightly. “I didn’t know how to approach the situation.” His eyes all but rolled back as you took his fingers into your mouth, moaning around his digits. Your mouth was so hot and wet. He wanted to be inside of it, fucking it until you were sputtering and crying tears of pleasure, his precum mixing with your saliva. But he decided he could wait to fulfill his fantasy, right now he needed to show you much he still loved and cared about you.

Yoongi took his fingers out of your mouth, trailing his moist digits down your neck, painting a masterpiece until they wrapped around your nipples, pinching it, while his mouth kissed around your other nipple. The low sighs of pleasure you were making were astronomical. A beautiful melody he will never get tired of listening to.

“S-So you decided to break up with me, f-fuck.” You gasped when he lightly bit down on your nipple. It was euphoric, enough to have you reaching your orgasm. You were overly sensitive, overwhelmed with the fact that he was so close to you again.

“I thought we already agreed that I’m an idiot.” He joked and sat back on his knees, pushing your thighs apart with his hands. The only thing keeping you covered were your panties that were sticking onto you like a second skin and it was driving him insane.

“Let me keep reminding you then.” You smirked and sat up on your elbows, lifting your hips from the bed to meet his. “Break my heart again and I’ll cut off your dick, and this time I sincerely mean it my love.” He shuddered, your menacing words filled with possibilities and hope. Hope that after tonight you and him could start over again.

“Have I ever told you how much you actually scare me?” He tilted his head with curiosity, pushing your panties to the side. His mouth watering when he felt how truly wet you were for him. He wanted you in every single way possible. To drink you up like sweet honey dew juice. If he wasn’t so impatient he would’ve buried his face in between your legs, until you were cumming on his tongue.

“Once or twice.” You lifted your hips as he slid your panties down your legs. He threw them to the side giving your hip a light kiss. “Maybe more than three times.” You gasped as he pushed two of his fingers inside of you.

His eyes catching sight the other miniscule stick n poke tattoo he had given you after graduation. This time it was a beautiful cursive ‘y’ adorning the skin of your mound, the adrenaline along with the alcohol that was running through both of your veins that night, had numbed you out enough to have you lying still, giggling at his concentration instead of screaming out in pain.

He moved his fingers, his cock aching to be freed from it’s constraints. He was so painfully hard, aching to be buried inside of you. “I think I told you more than that.” He curled his fingers, hitting the mushy spot inside of you making you gasp.

“Yoongi, whatever, just please get inside of me before I kick you out.” You arched your back, lifting your hips as his fingers slowly teased you, opening you up for him. You hadn’t been fucked in such a long time. In fact, the last person you had sex with you was the one teasing you right now.

He huffed rolling his eyes and took out his fingers. “Stop threatening me like that.” He said, bringing his fingers up to your mouth, painting your lips with your arousal. “It hurts my feelings.”

“Then hurry up.” Your fingers reached over playing with the button of his pants, popping it open as you eyed him through lust filled hooded eyes, “We can play more another day, right now I need you inside of me before I die.” You pleaded. His eyes got wide, his mind ran faster than usual, making sure he had heard you right.

Another time, you had said. He had heard you right. His hearing wasn’t as bad as he claims it to be, especially when it came to you and anything that leaves your mouth. He nodded and helped you push his pants along with his boxers down his legs. He kicked them away. A low moan escaped his lips when he felt your delicate hand wrap around his hard cock. Your thumb running over his red tip, spreading around the precum.

“Do you have a condom?” He asked in a choked whisper as he tried his hardest not to cum in your hand.

You shook your head no, a pout forming on your lips, “I don’t, I thought you would have one.” You kissed his chest lightly as you kept moving your hand around him. “I’m still on the pill though.” You pulled away and looked up at him giving him a knowing wink.

He swallowed and pushed you softly, laying you down. “Honestly, I didn’t think this would ever happen again so I didn’t bring anything.”

Your hand around him fell to your side as he climbed over you slowly. “Tell me if it hurts okay, I’ll stop.” He reassured before aligning himself up at your entrance. He ran the tip of his cock over your pussy gathering your essence before pushing himself in.

“Y-Yoongi, oh my g-god, f-fuck.” You arched your back, digging your nails into the skin of his shoulders. You felt so deliciously good around him, your name falling out of his lips like a silent prayer.

He buried his face into your neck, planting open mouthed down your neck, biting down lightly when he felt you clench around him. “Can I keep going?” He mumbled. “I need to feel all of you.”

“Yes, please Yoongi please.” You gasped when you felt him bottoming out inside of you. The pleasure was mind numbing. Your pussy stretching over his cock after such a long time was otherworldly.

His hands found yours and he intertwined your fingers with his, placing your arms above your head as he started thrusting into you slowly. His eyes burning into yours, refusing to let your gaze go.

Nothing was heard, except for skin slapping against skin. His low grunts combining with your loud moans as he fucked into you faster. The sound of your wet pussy motivating him to continue his ministries. Neither of you were sure how much time had passed, the only thing that mattered was the desperate chase of your highs.

“Make me cum please.” You pleaded over and over again, as he pistoned his hips into you faster and harder. The knot forming against the pit of your stomach. You kept clenching around him and he knew you were close to the edge. He was too, he could feel the tightness of his balls as his thrusts became sloppy.

“B-Baby, I’m close.” He bit down on your neck as you arched your back, your nipples brushing against his lightly.

You dug your nails into his knuckles, raising your hips to meet his desperate thrusts. “Me too, I’m so close.” You gasped as he rolled his hips into yours. The change of rhythm had you screaming out in pleasure.

He let go of one of your hands, not wasting a second in finding your swollen clit, rubbing fast circles against it with his thumb, “Gonna cum around me my angel, gonna let me paint your walls white.” He panted, his sweaty bangs falling over his eyes. He looked like a greek God, Adonis himself.

“F-Fuck yes Yoongi, fuck I-I’m coming.” You choked out, the pressure at the pit of your stomach finally breaking. Your pussy fluttering around him, your orgasm taking over your body in pleasure filled spasms.

Yoongi pushes into you harder, his thumb working against your clit as you ride out your high beneath him. Seeing you so fucked out was enough to tether over the edge, in a silent moan, his own orgasm taking over his body, painting your walls with his sticky substance, filling you up to the brink. “G-God, I love you.” He said after he had somewhat composed himself.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into your body. You didn’t want him to move yet, “I love you too Yoongi.” You whispered leaving innocent pecks against his jawline. He chuckled laying his head against your chest. You brushed his hair away from his face. Both of your chests heaving at the same time, as you tried to catch your breaths.

“Was that okay?” He spoke after a long moment of silence. He rested his chin against your chest looking at you through worrisome eyes. “You don’t hate me anymore right?”

“I never did.” You smiled, making his heart sore, “It was perfect, I missed you...a lot” You added kissing his nose.

“I missed you too, maybe a little too much if I’m being honest. I really am sorry angel.” He cuddled into you further, feeling himself grow soft inside of you. You felt his arousal along with yours slide down your legs and you had to hold back from begging him to take you again and again.

“I know just don’t do it again.”

“I’d be actually crazy if I did.”

#kdiarynet #kpopscape #bts #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts yoongi #bts x reader #bts drabbles #bts scenarios #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi drabbles #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi fanfic #yoongi imagines #yoongi scenarios

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lunastwilightblog · 3 years

Text

The Volturi are the good guys and Bella is the up-and-coming villain

I’m on my computer for this as I know it might be long, but bear with me (insert Emmett pun here) 🐻

So wait - the Volturi are the good guys? But didn’t SM write them as the bad guys?

Well, yes, SM did write Aro and co in as the antagonists of the series, but bear in mind that originally she didn’t write most of New Moon to happen, or the entirety of Eclipse. There was Twilight and Forever Dawn, which we’ll sadly never read. Her vision of the Volturi and their role as the evil villains who wanted to separate Edward and Bella became distorted as she had to flesh them out more and show their role as the governing body.

Then she wrote the Illustrated Guide and revealed their history and the horrors of the world without their authority; with the Romanians being as brutal as they were, the constant terror humans lived with and the fracturing of the world into many unstable and violent vampire-ruled empires (plus with way more children of the moon running about, probably as far west as - at least - central Europe).

When the Volturi were coming to power they were laughed at with the idea of their law, a significant reason the Romanians didn’t take them seriously. But now they are extremely popular.

This isn’t just because Aro created vampires to go out and sing his praises. Volturi rule has been a blessing for both humans and vampires.

For humans it’s the obvious: they are not living their lives in fear, they are not subject to massacres (except if caught in newborn warzones), their population has been able to grow and expand, modern medicine and technology have been able to flourish, society is much more stable, people need to flee areas much less (if ever) so they can stay put and complete research/live to meet their grandkids/etc, and not have to serve a vampire in the local castle.

For vampires it’s actually quite similar: with the human population growing to as large as it is today when at the time the Volturi came to power it was (estimated to be) only 210 million globally, vampires have been able to grow to even greater numbers also, and feed more often than before. If a vampire 2000 years ago killed 5 people in a town it would be an outrage the humans would certainly have noticed, however kill 5 people in a place as big as London, LA, Paris, Singapore, Bucharest... it would likely not be noticed very much, if at all (depending on who you kill).

Humans like to measure things in percentages. Those 5 people is a huge number to a town of 2000 - that’s 0.25% of the whole town’s population. It would be talked about, and relatives of the dead/missing would all know each other. Yet kill those 5 in a city of 12 million (as is London), that’s only 0.00004167% of the population. And chances are, the dead humans’ families don’t even live in the area (or could be in another country entirely) never mind know each other to realise there was a mass murder.

So vampires, as long as they hide from humans, as is the only law (besides no immortal children or consorting with werewolves), they have a lot more freedom nowadays than they did before the times of the Volturi. There are so many people that they can easily get lost in a crowd, move internationally, and not be pressured for allegiance by a local vampire warlord (before meeting Aro, Caius ran afoul of the Romanians, and he barely escaped with his life).

With there only being one authority, and one that does not interfere with your day-to-day life, is a dream come true. As long as they don’t break this law that is very easy to abide by, they can do whatever the f*** they want.

Carlisle would have never been able to get a job as a doctor if he was known to be a vampire, nor could any of the Cullens have entered education of any form. They’d be stuck sneaking into libraries after closing, and googling. Edward would have never met Bella (neither would Edward’s ancestors have immigrated to America - in fact, Europeans may have never discovered America in the first place. The whole Cullen coven aside from Carlisle might never have been born).

So what the Volturi have done (despite many of them having not-so-savoury personalities corrupted by hunger for power or violence) is bring peace to the world, get rid of tyrants, increase the food supply, allow a greater amount of freedom, and the first kind of trials and justice ever seen in their world. Sure, Aro uses trials to find new talent, but it’s still a world away from before.

Which leads me on to the events of Breaking Dawn, and Bella.

So. Maybe controversial, but: the Volturi did absolutely nothing wrong in Breaking Dawn.

They turned up thinking a serious crime had been committed. They stopped to talk (which Vladimir certainly never would have done!), considered the evidence and processed new discoveries and discussed their legality, decided there was no crime to punish, and left with only the informant dead. Yes, Irina had been innocent in the way that she strongly had believed she had been telling the truth and her memories must have presented good enough evidence to Aro initially, but their witnesses had come to see justice being served, and in the vampire world that is execution. Aro could have continued with prosecuting the Cullens for something he now knew was false, or execute Irina instead.

(Side note: she did kind of deserve it too. She didn’t bother to check her evidence, she wanted revenge for Laurent’s death so her accusation wasn’t coming from a place of good intentions but instead she was willing to have her friends and family killed for Laurent. She was also forcing Aro into a position where he had to prepare himself to kill Carlisle, whom we know he cherishes. Remember also that Aro turned down Laurent’s application to the Guard because he’d followed the Romanians for a while, so he won’t have been entirely trusting of Irina anyway, her having been Laurent’s mate).

Anyway. Onto Bella.

So Aro’s impression of Bella after New Moon seems to be positive. Why? Well, through Edward’s thoughts he saw that Bella was able to keep The Secret. He had heard how much she wanted to be a vampire. In addition, Marcus showed him how strong Edward and Bella’s bond is. Both of them knew, that if E & B’s love was almost as strong as Marcus and Didyme’s, that no matter what Edward currently said or thought about Bella being turned it was invalid. If Bella were dying, he would turn her for sure, which happened. Then the obvious, that Edward had already proven he could not live without her.

Bella was trustworthy and probably going to be turned. Alice showing proof was just a formality so Aro could say he had evidence rather than admit he’d just made assumptions (and Alice having had that vision may act as proof that his assumption was correct).

Therefore, from Aro’s perspective, Bella was a human who wanted to become immortal so much that she would rather die than not, and she was already following his law. She was no issue.

Yet.

Bella, knowing the law, should have been very grateful that she was left alive. Edward not being executed and she not being killed or forcibly turned on the spot... Aro had been very nice to them.

And again, in BD, he was very nice to them. Some people will inevitably say that he was weak in not killing them all. I mean, they stood beside Vladimir and Stefan! They have an army of wolves fundamentally opposed to vampires! Aro has lost Good Reputation Points by sparing the Cullens. He held as close to a trial as vampire society has ever had, and rightfully pronounced the Cullens innocent.

So shouldn’t Bella like him? He has spared her life and the lives of her loved ones more than one, and proven that he can be spoken to and conversed with properly and is willing to admit he was wrong. With Aro, we know it’s important to look more at what he does than what he says, and what he has done is be very kind to the Cullens (though who knows about the future?).

Yet Bella was creeped out by him when they met and interpreted him as a threat to Edward’s life. As she loves Edward, she’s always going to be of this mind, and first impressions are important.

Vampires are stuck with the mindsets they had when turned. An example of this is Esme, who was turned after her baby died and she tried to die too. She is permanently feeling maternal. She was turned only days after giving birth. Before knowing this, Bella even describes her as maternal and the mother of the family. Huilen also has a lot of care for Nahuel, being his aunt, because of her love for Pire, and while she was dying, Pire begged Huilen to raise him. Joham does not seem to have this parental love for his son and daughters; he never really knew Pire and was never affected by her love for Nahuel, and did not meet him until years after he was born. He’s only genetically a parent. He doesn’t have the protective mindset. When he was turned, he was a curious scientist (in fact, it was even why his creator turned him). He sees the world and people as things to study.

Anyway.

When Bella was turned, all she was thinking about was Renesmee. She begged Edward to get the baby out and didn’t care for her own life.

And she will be forever stuck in this high alert, must-protect-my-baby mode. Then for weeks as a newborn vampire, she was thinking of Aro as a threat and preparing to fight him. Compounding that, he was a threat to her daughter.

Both of these things will have had a significant effect on who she will have become after her newborn phase ended. It is impossible for Bella to ever like Aro now, even if she tried.

Her dislike of him, and willingness to fight against him, will be forever engrained in her brain.

This is dangerous.

Bella found the Romanians weird, but she didn’t dislike them per se. She would probably be willing to stand with them against the Volturi again.

We can take an educated guess and assume that sometime they will rise up again - and Bella might stand with them (though I highly doubt any of the other Cullens would).

Bella was not a problem for Aro until she stood beside Vladimir and Stefan.

Here is this vampire who can block most of his coven’s gifts, stuck with an intense dislike of him, who he has seen with his own eyes stand with his enemies. He has every right to be nervous now. Her love for her mate is almost as strong as Marcus’s bond to Didyme - how strong is her bond to Renesmee? Likely more. Aro knows the threat in that. He knows that Bella may be viewing him in the way Marcus feels when he thinks of taking revenge on whoever killed Didyme.

Nobody wants the Romanians back in power. Those who lived under their reign and those who have heard first hand stories told to them all know very well that life under Vladimir would be horrible, brutal, awful for all beside his close coven members (though considering he had a very large coven that was often squabbling amongst itself, it was probably miserable for a lot of them too).

But Bella is young. She has no memory of the world before the Volturi, and knows no one with first hand experience of that world other than the Volturi. She will have heard that it was horrible, but she has no emotional or personal connection to the near-ancient past, and vampires who lived during that time are disappearing. No one lives forever.

Then, she is American. Like Garrett, she values freedom, and the Volturi are the only oppressive vampire force either of them has ever known. Despite them being the least oppressive in vampire history, Bella and Garrett haven’t experienced the alternative. They are a government that is at times harsh, is corrupt, and executes people. They go to war and they obliterate their enemies. Bella doesn’t see that the Volturi is the least bad government her world is ever going to get, and that they’ve granted her so much freedom. She is unable to see that because, in her youth, she has nothing to compare them against.

By standing against the Volturi, Bella isn’t just standing against Aro, Caius, and Marcus. She is standing against the peace they have brought between vampires, against humans living without fear, against modern civilisation itself. She stands a representative of the next world order, and Aro can sense it.

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cellsshapedlikestars · 3 years

Note

If you are accepting prompts--how about Sansa and Jon being on opposite sides of a political contest? Prime Minister Rhaegar Targaryen is forced to call a referendum for Northern independence, as demanded by the Northern Nationalists party. He is campaigning in the North for a United Westeros, taking his second wife Lyanna Stark and their son Jon along, toshow how hollow all talk if Northern independence is. However, this means that Jon keeps running into his Stark cousins, particularly Sansa Stark, who accompanies her parents to every debate and campaign rally...

I've been sitting on this for a while (and yes, I do see all the anon prompts, I promise!) and I've sort of been writing this on and off since I got it. The thing is, I have no point of reference for these politics, I'm assuming you wanted something like the Scottish independence movement, which I have almost no knowledge of as I am a dumb American who can barely handle American politics without spiraling into anxiety and depression. So, I've sort of talked around the specifics and hopefully I haven't gotten anything too crazy wrong.

Also, you mention his Stark cousins, but... well, I cannot do modern incest. I can handle them being cousins in olden times where it was acceptable & common (I can't even handle the sibling incest aspect in any time period), but I was writing this modern and that's a hard nope for me. I know it's a fairly predominant part of this fandom and if it's your thing, absolutely have at it! There is no kink shaming in this house. It's just not for me and I couldn't write it, sorry!

Also, as usual, this turned out longer than I intended since these are supposed to be drabbles mostly. But 'drabbles' for me always end up like 2k words

Jon sits in the window seat of the jet, headphones on and turned up. Somewhere behind him, he knows his parents are sitting, likely talking strategy. He knows dad wants him to join in, but Jon's in no mood to talk politics. It's what got him in this situation to begin with.

That stupid reporter. Jon's stupid response.

Jon! How do you feel about Northern Independence?

I say let them.

It's what he believes, honestly – if the North wants independence, why not? The rest of the SK treats them like shit anyway, why not let them break off, like Dorne did? It's not a naming issue – they're still called the Seven Kingdoms despite losing Dorne decades ago, so what if they're technically only six now? Jon knows it's about more than that – it's economics and politics and... well, pride. The SK can't lose another piece of their kingdom – nevermind that piece has been conquered and beaten down multiple times over hundreds of years. Northern Independence isn't a new concept – it's just been met with military resistance every time and stamped out. But they aren't in the middle ages anymore.

For a moment he turns his head to look behind him – to see mom with her head bowed in conversation with dad and something ugly twists in Jon's stomach.

He knows dad only married mom because she got pregnant – because his political career was just taking off and a mistress and bastard would have ruined him. And mom, she'd been so young, she's convinced herself he married her for love. Jon swears that mom used to be different. She used to argue with Rhaegar all the time about politics, he even remembers her bringing up Northern Independence when Jon was just a kid. But over the years she's had to play the perfect wife for him and somewhere along the way it just... stuck. Mom isn't his mom anymore. No, mom is what Rhaegar's political advisors want her to be.

So even though Jon had wanted to protest this trip, there's also a part of him desperately clinging to the hope that when they get North, mom will snap out of it. When she's home, maybe she'll be his mom again.

Especially since the leader of the opposition is an old friend of hers.

Ned Stark.

Dad doesn't react to much, he's a politician to his core, so seeing him get riled anytime Ned Stark is on TV is notable. In fact, there's a rebellious part of Jon that already likes Ned Stark simply for the fact that dad hates him so much. There's more to like than just that, Jon knows – Ned Stark seems like one of those politicians that's doing the job because they want to make a difference. They're rare, nowadays, but Jon's been surrounded by politicians his whole life and he can spot the do-gooders from a mile away.

He thinks it's partly why dad hates it – Ned Stark doesn't use the same underhanded tactics Rhaegar's used to, and from everything Jon's heard, there's nothing to use against Ned. The only skeleton dad's advisors had ever found tucked away in Ned Stark's closet had been that his wife, Catelyn, had originally dated his older brother Brandon, who died in a car accident. They'd begun dating and married shortly after - a minor scandal that hadn't gained any traction, considering they've been married for over twenty years with five children.

Dad was hoping to get somewhere with the youngest daughter, Arya, who always seemed more wild than the rest of her siblings (except maybe the youngest, Rickon). The problem is that she's never done anything really wrong and the North loves her. The oldest son Robb is as perfect a son as any politician could hope for and Jon sometimes wonders if dad would rather have Robb than Jon.

The other two sons are still fairly young and going after them would only make dad look like the bad guy. Then there's Sansa.

Jon remembers her from growing up – not that he'd ever met her, but they're both kids of prominent politicians and he's seen her in photos since she was old enough to walk. A proper lady, he remembers even the southern press naming her. Perfect, just like her older brother.

A hand on his shoulder jolts him out of his thoughts and he turns to see mom, who motions at him to take off his headphones.

“We're landing in a half hour and your father would like to go over your role,” she tells him with a perfect, bland smile. (She hasn't been his mother for a very long time.)

“I know my role,” he says and he can't help the bitter tone to his voice. “Stay quite, don't talk to the press. Pretty easy to remember.”

“And yet you still managed to nearly undermine my entire campaign with one flippant remark,” dad's voice calls over from his seat, low and smooth, though Jon absolutely hears the annoyance underneath it.

“Oh, he's just a child,” mom says, trying to play the peacekeeper like she always does.

“He's twenty, he's hardly a child,” dad starts, but Jon doesn't listen to the rest. He pulls his headphones back over his ears and looks back out the window and tries to pretend he's anywhere else.

…

By the time they reach Winterfell Castle, Jon is in a bad mood.

Not that he hadn't been before, but he's not allowed his headphones in the limo and so he'd had to listen to dad talk nonstop about his two favorite topics: Jon's failure as a son and how much he hates Ned Stark. And the way mom doesn't even try to defend Ned Stark like she used to infuriates Jon even more.

Jon hates his tuxedo and he hates that they barely had any time between landing and having to get ready for this dinner and he hates that he's going to have to smile and shake hands with a bunch of people who hate him on principle, simply for who his father is. For what his father represents.

When he does step out of the limo, he ignores every photographer and reporter that shouts his name, eager to get any sort of scandal out of him.

He doesn't blame them for this, he's given them enough over the years – not just his apparent support of Northern Independence, but everything else he's done to gain his notoriety. His reputation as a heartbreaker and a playboy that's mostly over-exaggerated, that time he punched a teacher (though to be fair, Thorne deserved it)... Teenage rebellion, they'd written it off as, but he's no longer a teenager and he knows he should grow up and stop doing things to piss off his father at some point.

(His favorite one had been sleeping with that investigative journalist when he was seventeen. She'd been older than him by a good few years and he'd known she was using him to write an article, but he was using her just as much to infuriate his father. His only true regret is that Ygritte's article hadn't done any real lasting damage to Rhaegar's reputation.)

Inside, there aren't any reporters but there are politicians everywhere and that's worse. He does the bare minimum to not cause an issue – he shakes hands and says hello, though he refuses to smile while doing it. They already hate him for being Rhaegar Targaryen's son. They already hate him for being Northern-traitor Lyanna Snow's son.

He keeps an eye on mom to see how she's doing and his heart twists painfully in his chest when he sees her. She has a bright smile on her face and anyone who didn't know her would think she's fine, but Jon can see how pale she is under her makeup. This is the first time she's been back in the North since she married dad and he has a sudden, sharp pang of hatred for Rhaegar – for getting her pregnant, for marrying her, for never letting her go back. For turning her into this.

He can tell the moment Ned Stark enters the room because mom freezes. And sure enough, there he is – beautiful wife at his side, the three adult children with him. Robb, Sansa, Arya. Jon's eyes scan over them – Robb with his perfect hair and smile, an easy way about him that's always come through even on camera. Sansa standing poised and almost too beautiful to believe – Jon's only ever seen her on film and somehow she's even more unreal in person. Arya, who by all accounts hates politics as much as Jon does, stands firmly by her family and Jon gets the sense she only hates the system, not her dad. Not like Jon.

As Jon scans the room, he can see other families here that he recognizes – the Greyjoys, including Robb Stark's best friend Theon. The Manderlys, the Karstarks, the Ryswells, the Boltons, the Mormonts. More families than Jon cares to remember.

There's a sense of someone behind him and he turns just enough to see that dad has come up to stand next to him. For a moment, dad just stands there before turning his head ever so slightly and bringing his mouth close to Jon's ear and he says so low Jon can barely even hear it - “if you do anything to embarrass me tonight, there will be consequences. If you do anything that makes it seem like you support this pathetic independence movement, there will be consequences. Do you understand me?”

Jon feels blind rage that winds so hot in his chest it makes him shake and his vision narrow. He has to close his eyes and take a deep breath before he can answer, and he grits out, “of course.” Dad nods and moves away, putting on his best politician smile as he goes to greet Howland Reed.

Mom shoots him a concerned look, but Jon ignores her. He can feel it building in him – that rebelliousness the press likes to talk about so much. He wants to hurt Rhaegar. For everything – for his mother, for all the people dad's stepped on and hurt. He wants to embarrass him, consequences be damned.

Just as he's thinking this, his eyes catch on copper hair and bright blue eyes.

Sansa Stark.

Darling of the press. Perfect Northern princess.

It takes root in his mind, against his better judgment. What would make Rhaegar more furious than an affair between his son and the daughter of Ned Stark?

Jon can't imagine Sansa would be amenable to the suggestion, not like Ygritte had been – there is no mutually beneficial agreement here. She would never agree to do something that might embarrass her father (and once again, Jon is reminded of the, pun intended, stark difference between his relationship with his father and the Stark children's relationship with Ned. Jon has never even met them in person and he knows this).

So he can't approach her with any sort of offer or plan. No, he'd have to pretend it was real.

He's going to have to seduce Sansa Stark.

#jonsa #prompt fic #ask #oooh boy do i know nothing of politics #and political families #do not @ me #is this boring?#probably #jonsa fic

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flowingwithwater · 4 years

Text

Smile

A/N: One shot, kinda long, enjoy xx

Summary: Nat is R’s trainer, R is on love. They go on a mission, R gets hurt protecting Nat. Nat feels guilty but R tells her, she’d do it again - fluff follows.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Words: ~ 5k

“Again. Get up and throw a punch. C’mon y/n” it took everything in you to not roll your eyes at the antics of your trainer. You had been going at it for a couple of hours now and honestly you were beat. Laying on the mat you looked up at the beautiful women. She was looking down on you, a slight sheen of sweat covering her face and collarbones. For a second you zoned out just looking at her until you felt her kicking your feet.

“What’s wrong? Already in dream land? Get up. One more round and then we’ll have lunch.” At the mere thought of food your felt adrenaline rush through your body and you jumped up excitedly. A slight chuckle coming from the other woman, “if only the success of training had that effect on you.”

“Well, what can I say?” You started getting in position. “getting punched in the face by an assassin is just not really motivating.” A smirk grew on your opponents face and the feeling it caused in your gut made you blush a little. God, there was nothing she could do that wouldn’t be absolutely fucking hot.

“Show me what you got and maybe I’ll allow you to have dessert.” she winked. She winked at you. The flirting between the two of you had been going on for a while. Ever since your first mission together, in which you had gotten to know each other on a more personal level, there was always something in the air.

You couldn’t decipher whether she meant what she said or if it was simply fun to her. But what you did know, was that it had caused you to fall head over heels for the woman. Not that you would tell her. Or anyone for that matter.

Refocusing on the fight ahead of you, you lifted your fists to somehow cover your face. Jumping back and forth on the tip o your feet, you prepared to make the first move.

You had learned quickly that if you would wait for her to start, the result would be a lot more painful. So, to avoid any broken bones you went for her face. Of course, you hit the air, you don’t think you’ve ever actually gotten her. Not even close. But that didn’t bother you, she was still the freaking Black Widow and you were a simple Agent.

The two of you exchanged some punches with almost none of them landing, until suddenly Natasha stopped in her tracks.

“All right let’s have lunch” she moved her hand towards the exit of the gym, and you were confused. Looking at her skeptically, your fists slacked, and your posture slumped.

“Uh,” you started uncertainly, “okayyyy. Let’s go…then.” slowly, really slowly you moved your back towards her only breaking eye contact once it was physically impossible to keep it. She was planning something, you were sure. You don’t remember a single incident when she would stop a fight just like that. Without a winner. No, something was going on here.

And just when that thought left your mind you were pulled back while you tripped backwards over her legs. Landing with a harsh sound on the floor. Her face came into view and she was smirking.

“Remember, always be aware of your surroundings!”

This time you rolled your eyes. “That was totally unfair, and you know it. No real enemy would just stop in the middle of a fight and then pull some shit like that.” you huffed when she outstretched her hand and pulled you up.

“Life is not fair. You and I both know that.” With a smile she dropped your hand, and you immediately missed it. She turned away from you and picked up her water bottle.

While she was drinking you took her in. How her neck moved when she drank the water, how there was a little more sweat now and one or two drops rolled down her neck and disappeared in her shirt. Your eyes moved down her body, her shoulders her arms, her butt…

Quickly you averted your eyes. You’re not a creep. It’s not normal to stare at a friend like that and you needed to stop. It wasn’t going to get you anywhere. Shaking yourself out of your stupor you went to grab a towel and your bag.

“I’ll take a shower real quick and then I’ll meet you in the common room, yeah?” Sending her one last smile you left the room while taking a deep breath. Walking away, you missed her eyes wandering down your body until you were out of her sight.

------

After a quick (cold) shower, you got dressed in some comfy clothes and made your way downstairs. You were one of the few simple agents that lived in the facility. But since you had literally nothing and no one, your job was your life and therefore it only made sense to live there.

When you proposed that to the other Avengers, they were happy about it. You didn’t really work with them much, except maybe Clint and Natasha but over time you had become great friends with them, and Tony was more than willing to design a room just for you.

Walking in the kitchen you saw Natasha already sitting at the counter, her hair up in a loose bun with some strands falling in her face. You kind of wanted to move them behind her ear so they wouldn’t bother her while reading the file in her hands. The file. You almost didn’t see that. Making your way over to her you asked,

“What’s that? You got a mission?”

She looked up at you and smiled softly. “No, we got a mission. It’s an easy one, but we’ll have to stay at a safe house for three days. We’re leaving tonight” staying at a safe house with her made you nervous. It wouldn’t be the first time you would have to do that, but since your feelings have only gotten stronger you were unsure how this was going to play out.

Swallowing your nerves, you plastered a big smile on your face. “Sounds like fun. But on to more important matters, what’s for lunch.” Eliciting a laugh from the redhead you couldn’t help but smile at her.

You loved her laugh. She didn’t do it very often, but it made your heart melt every time. It felt special when you were the one causing it. Smiling to yourself you turned around and made your way to the kitchen with Natasha following you closely.

-----

“Ugh, this is the worst.” huffing you threw your bag on one of the two beds in the safe house. “How can we have so much money and our safe houses look like this.” exasperated you flopped down on the bed and moved your arm to cover your face.

“Oh, c’mon. We’ve had worse, don’t you remember Louisiana last year?” she asked with a slight smirk on her face.

“Oh god, don’t remind me. You’re right, that was the worst one, but this right here is a close second.” you moved your arm away from your face and your eyes searched the room until they landed on Natasha. She was unpacking some of her stuff.

For a moment you got lost in her movements. It was always mesmerizing to watch her do anything. She was never unsure of a single move and everything looked so elegant yet so lethal.

You groaned internally, she was only putting away some of her clothes and that’s what you were thinking? How can someone be so obsessed with another person?

Trying to distract yourself, you got up and made your way to the kitchen. “Hopefully, they filled the fridge. I’ll make us dinner and then we can go over the plan for tonight.” Not waiting for an answer, you opened the fridge and saw an acceptable amount of food. You were sure you could make something nice and immediately your thoughts were completely enraptured by your cooking plans.

After a couple of minutes of cooking, you felt the presence of the other woman behind you. She was quiet, which wasn’t new to you. While you considered Natasha a good friend, talking about deeply personal things was never something you had done. Not that you weren’t both interested but knowing how much both of you had on their plate, it just didn’t seem to be an easy conversation.

That’s why her next question surprised you. “So, what exactly got you to move into the Avengers facility?” she sounded so nonchalant, it took you a minute to figure out what to say.

Sensing your hesitation, she quietly said “You don’t have to answer that. I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

You turned around, and when you saw her looking at you intently your lips quirked up a bit. She looked beautiful in this light and you couldn’t help but just stare at her. She didn’t seem to mind because she did the exact same thing to you.

In this atmosphere you felt extremely safe. You always did when she was around, so you wanted to tell her everything about yourself. You just wanted her to know you and your story.

“I don’t have anything but this job. My father was an asshole and my mom died when I was very young. I lived with an aunt, but we never really got along, so I moved out when I was 16 and took my chances. I applied for this weird program that would assure you a job and financial help, you just had to pass some test. I passed it and just like that I was in the middle of S.H.I.E.L.D. It took me a while to climb the levels because I struggled with my social skills. I basically failed every single test about undercover work.” a light laugh left your mouth and when you looked up you saw green eyes focused entirely on you and what you were saying.

“Anyway, a while later I was introduced to one Clint Barton. He was great and we got along very well, but he was in the special division and I was not. So, we didn’t have a lot of jobs together. But we hung out and stuff. Until he was called on this highly secretive mission in Budapest. I think his job was to exterminate an enemy but instead he brought her into S.H.I.E.L.D and she became one of, if not the best Agent. I’m not sure if you know her, she can be quite annoying.”

A washcloth hit your face and you started laughing. “You’re an idiot.” shaking her head, Natasha moved around you to get the dishes for the table. When she was right next to you, she paused and lifted her head.

“Thanks for telling me that. I appreciate it.” it was barely a whisper. She was so close, and it wouldn’t have taken much for you to kiss her. Two, maybe three inches and your lips would have touched hers.

Instead, you cleared your throat and moved away. “Well, uh you’re welcome. Set the table, I’ll bring the food in a second.”

Natasha looked at you for a while longer and then decided to just do what you had said. It almost seemed like she was reluctant to move. When she left the kitchen, you leaned against the counter and let out a long sigh. Slowly, you moved to get the food and carried it to the table, where the redhead was patiently waiting for you.

----

After dinner it was time to get ready. Both of you put your suits on and attached all the necessary weapons to it. You had some guns, but your favorites were always the knives. It was easier to move with them and quite honestly, you were also fucking good at it.

When you were finished, the two of you left the house and made your way towards the building you’d have to infiltrate in order to get some intel on some rich dude selling alien weaponry.

“Okay listen, we’ll go in, get the intel and get the hell out of there. No unnecessary fighting and no casualties but also, no captures. Someone comes for you, end it. Try not to die and we’ll be fine.”

A dry chuckle left your lips and you looked over at the redhead, “Wow, Nat. Your pep talks are almost as good as Steve’s.” She didn’t look at you, but you could see that small smile you liked so much. It made you happy and you couldn’t help but smile as well.

If only you could see that more often. Yes, the two of you spend a lot of time together, but there always seems to be some kind of barrier. There were moments in the past, when you felt like you were getting even closer, but every time she would pull away and not talk to you for a couple of weeks, finding excuses as to why she couldn’t train you that day.

Right now, you were in a good space. It had been a couple of months since that last happened and you had to admit it was the worst one. She wouldn’t talk to you; she wouldn’t look at you. It was hell and that was the time you realized your feelings were a lot more than just a crush.

You had made a plan to not let her back in if she decided to come back with an apology, but when she knocked on your door in the middle of the night, nervous as you’d never seen her, you couldn’t help yourself but forgive her.

So now, here you were. On a mission with you constantly thinking about her, knowing you were in love with her and not being able to keep your eyes off of her.

----

“The hallway is clear.” you whispered into your comms. Getting into the building was surprisingly easy and both of you were a little suspicious. But the mission had to be completed, so you continued to be careful.

“All right. Come back here and cover me while I retrieve the data.” you could here her voice in you ear. Nodding your head, you quietly walked back to where she was. Locking eyes and nodding in confirmation that the two of you were fine, you entered a room that looked like a control room.

While Nat put her gun away and walked to one of the computers, you turned around and made sure no one was coming. It was quiet. Too quiet. You were beginning to get concerned, checking the hallway again your turned around to her “Something feels off, Nat. Maybe we should go.”

Just when you finished your sentence, you heard a loud bang coming from the other side of the hallway. You were about to say something else when you heard Nat moving. “All right, got it. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Getting your guns out you made your way towards the exit. No one was in your way. There were no soldiers or agents or weapons. It was weird and that feeling in your stomach wasn’t dissipating.

“Nat, this is weird.” You turned your head to look back at her and that’s when you saw him. A lone Agent with a freaking sword in his hand, charging towards the two of you.

Without thinking you stepped in front of Natasha and were about to shoot when the sword lodged itself into your side. There was no pain and you barely registered the sword, until you pulled the trigger and it was removed by the body falling to the ground. All that happened within a single second.

“Y/n!” Nat was quick to catch you, before you fell on the ground. Her gun still raised she inspected your wound with a shaking hand. She was panicking.

“I’m fine Nat. I don’t think it hit anything vital. It just hurts like a bitch.” groaning, when she put pressure on your wound, you tried to reassure her.

She was frantic in her movements. You don’t even think she heard you or registered that you were talking. To calm her, you reached up to touch her cheek. “Nat, I am fine. Let’s just go, so nothing else happens.”

That helped and suddenly she stopped moving and looked down at you. Leaving was easier said than done. Just as you were about to move the sound of footsteps made you halt your movements. Locking eyes with Nat you both knew that there was a change of plans.

“Nat, we need to leave. Now.” Your hand was wrapped around her shoulders while she held on to you, trying not to touch your wound.

“They are probably blocking our point of entry. We can’t just go there with you hurt like that. Do you remember another exit?” she was nervous. You could feel her heartbeat from being so close and her hand on your waist kept squeezing in a rhythm almost as if she was trying to ground herself through your touch.

“There is no other exit, but I have an idea. If we get close enough, we can just blow them up and get out of here. I have three grenades on me.”

“You brought grenades? Are you fucking kidding me? You know those things are unpredictable, what if you get blown up while fighting hand to hand?” she whisper-screamed at you. Her face was set, and she was in full trainer mode. You rolled your eyes, wincing when you moved your body a little bit.

“Give me a break. Now is not the time. I have a fucking sword wound, I am losing blood and you want to lecture me about grenades? Just grab them and blow these assholes up so we can leave.” At the mention of your wound Nat’s face turned to a worried frown again.

“Okay, okay. Let’s got.”

With a groan, caused by the pulsating pain in you side, you walked towards the exit as fast as you could. Before you turned the corner, Nat guided you to the ground.

“Hey, hey what are you doing? Help me back up!” you couldn’t stop her from pushing you down, it was simply too much pain.

“You can’t fight, obviously. So, I’m going to throw the grenades and take care of possible survivors and then I’ll get you.” She was about to stand up, but you pulled her back down by her arm. Fear enveloped you heart. You didn’t know how many people were out there and there was no way you’d let her fight all of them alone.

“No! Nat, listen. We don’t know how many there are and what if it’s too many, what if the grenades don’t do shit. I can’t let you go alone.” At this point you were desperate for her to listen to you, but she was already reaching around you to get the three grenades.

Before she pulled away completely, she put her hand on your cheek and looked at you as if you were the most precious thing on this planet.

“You can’t help right now. I got this; I promise. So, you just sit here and be pretty and let me handle this, okay?” her eyes pierced yours and there was nothing but sincerity, love and a little bit of worry in them. Enraptured by her beautiful eyes you leaned into her touch and nodded slightly.

With one last look at you, she stormed off. All you could do was lean your head against the wall, put pressure on you wound and hope to the gods, that the woman you were in love with would come back to you.

After a couple of minutes of silence, you were almost happy when you heard the grenades go off. At least that meant she was still alive. Now you just had to wait a little while longer.

You listened closely, trying to make out any sounds; guns, fighting, anything. But it was completely silent except your own shallow breath.

‘This is taking too long. Something is wrong’ With a loud groan you moved to get up, just as you were about to try and stand up, a pair of warm hands landed on your shoulders. You looked up and there she was. Covered in debris but still beautiful as ever.

Seeing her made you realize how scared you really were. Tears started gathering in your eyes, you closed them and took a deep breath.

The two hands helped you up and one of her arms sneaked back around your waist. Leaning your head against hers you quietly whispered, “Thank God.”

The way back to the safe house took longer than expected, since you still couldn’t walk properly. But after what felt like hours, you were finally back in the warmth of the house and you couldn’t help but be glad to be back in this dump of a place.

“Come on, we need to clean the wound.”

Her voice seemed to be very far away and you realized you almost dozed of on the way here. She almost carried you at this point and you felt bad, so you quickly shifted your weight back on your legs.

In the bedroom, you sat down with a hiss. Her hands left your body and she quickly walked to the bathroom to get some stuff for you wound.

“Take your shirt off please and lay down.” You heard her voice a little clearer now and you did as you were told. Laying on the bed you mind drifted back to the moment you got stabbed. Even though it hurt like a bitch, a small smile grazed your lips at the thought of having saved her life. Honestly, you’d do it again in less than a heartbeat.

A dip on the side of the bed, made you open your eyes to look at Natasha. She was focused on cleaning you wound, as soon as the disinfectant touched your tender skin you couldn’t help but draw a sharp breath in.

“I’m sorry, but we have to clean it. I’m sorry.” Nat sounded terrible. Well, her voice was still beautiful, but it was laced with worry. You couldn’t help but scan her face.

Her brows were formed to a frown and her lips kept moving, apologizing repeatedly. Moving your arm without thinking, your fingers settled between her brown and smoothed the skin there.

“It’s okay. It just hurts.” You tried to reassure her, and it seemed like your touch was working. Her hands stilled and she moved into the touch of you hand. After two or three long breaths, her eyes moved to your face.

“I’m done. You should get some rest now and tomorrow we’ll clean it again.”

“What about you? Are you hurt?” you couldn’t see any wounds but you had to be sure. With a soft smile she answered.

“Just a little dirty from your grenades. I’ll take a shower and then go to bed as well. Rest, your tired, I can see that. Close your eyes, okay. Good Night.”

And with that she got up, gathered all the medical equipment, and moved away from the bed. Sighing you gave up the fight and finally closed your eyes to fall into a deep slumber.

Opening your eyes, you looked around. It was still dark outside and you could see Natasha sleeping in the bed opposite from you. Realizing you woke up because you had to pee, you started moving into a sitting position.

A soft groan left your lips, but quietly so you wouldn’t wake up Natasha. Moving fucking hurt. After getting your left leg off the side of the bed, you slowly moved the rest of you body to follow. A couple of hisses later and you were standing, albeit shakily, but you were standing up.

“What are you doing, y/n?” Hearing sheets ruffle, it was only a couple of second later, that warm hands found their way to support you.

Guilty, you looked up “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you, but I uhm…I have to, you know, pee.” Your were thankful it was dark, the proximity of the woman was bad enough but her trying to help you use the toilet, which you were sure she would do, made you blush like an idiot.

“Alright let’s got.” She said matter-of-factly. Without meeting her eyes you nodded and started walking towards the bathroom. You dreaded what was about to happen. You didn’t want this woman to see you pee, that was a 5-year relationship step.

To try and make this a little less awkward, you tried to crack some jokes. Honestly, you just wanted to hear her laugh. She was quiet, and not the “I am tired”-quiet but the “I feel guilty because you got hurt because of me and now I’ll help you however I can”-quiet.

But she didn’t even move her lips. There was no amusement, and she was definitely not in the mood to laugh. It made you a little sad but also you were worried. Natasha needed to know that you did not blame her in any way. It was not her fault.

The rest of the torture of using the toilet was spent in silence. Just when she helped you lay down, did you grab her hand before it moved too far away.

“Nat, this isn’t your fault. Stop beating yourself up, okay. I’ll be fine. And just so you know, getting sworded was on my list of ways to get injured anyways, so check.” Your thumb drew patterns on her hand but she still didn’t look at you. “Nat, please. Smile. I really need you to smile right now.”

There was no reaction. She didn’t look at you and she didn’t move either. You realized your words wouldn’t get through her thick scull so you did the only thing you could.

You shuffled towards the other side of the bed and pulled her with you at the same time. She was hesitant, but she slowly followed your lead and laid down beside you.

There was no touching except your hand on her lower arm, still drawing patterns. It was silent except for the sound of both of you breathing.

You felt at ease, there was no pain. All you could feel was her laying next to you. That was everything you have wanted for the past year. But this was not how you imagined it. You didn’t want her to feel guilty or sad. You wanted her to enjoy it, just like you did.

“Why did you do it? You could’ve let him just stab me. Why would you jump in the way?” her voice way quiet, hard to hear.

Now you were angry. Was she serious? It was not like you expected her to know about your feelings for her or the fact that you would literally die for her, no. But you did expect her to know that she means something to you and that you would protect however you could.

“Are you serious, Nat? I mean all these years of training and you can’t figure out why I took a fucking sword for you? I did it because I’d rather die, than see you get hurt. There is literally nothing on this fucking planet that I wouldn’t do to protect you. And if you haven’t figured that out by now, you are stupider than I thought possible.”

Okay, whew. That was maybe a little over the line. But you couldn’t help it. At this point, she should’ve known that you would do something like that.

Movement to your left startled you a little bit, especially when all of a sudden you were looking up into those beautiful eyes you regularly dream about.

“I know why you did it, because it’s the same reason why I’d do it for you. I can’t see you get hurt, okay. Especially for me. That is not an option, because if you think that you would die before something happened to me, I would murder every single human being on this planet to make sure you wouldn’t get hurt.”

You didn’t know what to say. Did she just say, she felt the same way? Wait, did she just say she would annihilate the human race to protect you?

“Wow Nat, every single human being? That is a lot of people, you know. Need some help with that?”

Finally, you saw her lips move up in a smile. Finally, she was responding and fucking finally you felt like this might be the beginning of something. But before you could say anything else, she took the word.

“You are an absolute idiot.” With a final smile, she moved to grab you face and softly pressed her lips to yours. It was a soft kiss; she didn’t want to hurt you. But you could not get enough. It was like a fire erupted in your core and you moved to pull her even closer.

Pushing up, the kiss got more forceful. It was like a year of pent-up emotions all pouring out into this one kiss. One of her arms moved down your side, careful to not touch your wound, as she slowly pulled away.

Keeping her as close as you could, you smiled brightly at her.

“This was awesome, can we do it again?” with a soft chuckle, Natasha pressed another soft peck to your lips, before moving away again.

“As soon as you’re all healed up, okay. For now, let’s just sleep.”

“okay” you whispered softly. Slowly Nat moved to lay her head on the same pillow you were laying on. Taking your hand and intertwining your fingers she pressed a soft kiss to your cheek.

“And don’t think just because this is going on, I’ll go less hard on you in training. This has no influence on any of that.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Content and happy, you closed your eyes with the feeling of the redhead cuddled in your side. Fucking finally this was happening. Fucking finally, you had someone, fucking finally you had her.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow x reader #black widow imagine #avengers #fanfic #reader insert #fluff #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanoff #fem!reader

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softyoongiionly · 4 years

Text

BlackHeart Bakery

Who says Halloween can’t be romantic?

Pairing: Emo! Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Genre: fluff

A/N: HI OMG IM SO SORRY THIS IS LATE. I love you, I hope you like it. I’m sorry it isn’t longer but, I still can’t wait for you to read it.

-you never imagined that the quirky lil bakery down the street from your university would change your life

-But it did

-“Omg shut up, you’re so dumb.”

-“Rawr xD”

-“Did you just say rawr xD out loud??? That totally defeats the purpose of its existence...”

-“Don’t cite the deep magic to me witch, I was there when it was written.”

-“And now you’re quoting the chronicles of narnia- alright just go back to sleep you big dummy...”

-“Mmm but you married a big dummy so what does that say about you”

-“Jungkook don't spoil it oh my god!”

-“Like they don’t know what’s coming already- spoiler alert losers! I get the girl.”

-“I hate you...”

-“Mm yeah- I love it when you talk dirty to me baby. The last time you said that- we ended up fuc-“

-“Ok! That’s enough! Our story begins...”

-Jungkook’s bakery was quite famous around your city

-If people didn’t come for the gaudy Halloween decorations

-They came for the music

-Exclusively pop punk, if you’re wondering

-It was like 2009 everyday

-Which was comforting, considering the world has gotten a little

-Tricky

-Since then

-But anyways

-If they didn’t come for the music or the decorations

-They came for the AMAZING espresso

-And the spooky themed treats

-But if you’re being honest

-You think the main thing that keeps them coming back

-Is Jungkook

-If his sweeping black hair didn’t get you

-Or the adorable cheeky twinkle in his eyes

-It was the tattoos and the piercings

-He looked like he walked right off of a black veil brides music video set

-He was hot

-This was obvious

-But he didn’t seem to think so

-You had come to the conclusion that he was oblivious

-he shoved his feet into his big black doc martens every morning

-Slipped on his beaded bracelets and studded chokers

-Pulled his fall out boy t-shirt over his

-Massive

-Tattooed

-Biceps

-And just thought hm

-I’m pretty average I guess (lol)

-That’s a direct quote from him btw

-Men truly are hopeless

-Jungkook opened the bakery two years ago

-He had mentioned to you that he had saved up money from his 3 part time jobs to put a down payment on the building

-Which was wedged between a sex shop

-And a thrift store

-And honestly his bakery

-Blackheart Bakery, if you’re being specific

-Fits right in

-Jungkook refuses to hire new staff

-“They won’t do it right.” He whined to you one day

-“One time I tried to hire this guy and he put the sugared googly eyes on the cookie skeletons ALL WRONG”

-“How do you put googly eyes on wrong?” You had giggled

-“you just do- i- See? This is exactly why I can’t hire anyone...”

-You had started chewing on the end of your pencil in the midst of your laughter

-It was an unconscious habit

-And it makes Jungkook shift uncomfortably, his hands moving off of the top of your table

-“Don’t do that...” he had muttered, smirking to himself as he walked back behind the counter

-he did that a lot

-He’d mutter something

-Mildly flirtatious under his breath and then

-Just walk away

-It was quite confusing

-But honestly you had a feeling he was just a filrty person

-You certainly weren’t the only girl he smirked at

-Not that you pay attention

-Ok

-Maybe you do

-Kinda

-Pay attention

-but it’s not your fault!!!!

-You just

-Can’t help but feel a little jealous

-You kiiiiiinda have a little thing for him

-Ok

-Maybe it’s a big thing

-Maybe it’s a massive

-Gigantic

-Towering

-Crush

-But look at him!!!

-You simply couldn’t be blamed

-It was his fault

-Yep

-That’s what you’re going with

-It was Jungkook

-And his tight t shirts

-His ripped jeans

-His dangly earrings

-His tattoos

-His big

-Stupid boots

-Ugh ok

-Focus

-You have work to do

-The whole reason you began coming to Jungkook's cafe was so you -could find a consistent place to study for your exams

-You were in school to become a teacher :)

-And teachers have to study very very hard

-Educating the youth is no easy feat

-Jungkook had asked what you were studying during the first week you arrived at his spooky house of baked goods

-“Oh I’m an education major”

-“Ahh so you’re getting an education about...education.” He concludes

-“I love it.”

-“So meta.”

-“Are they educating you on the disparities between impoverished children and wealthier children?”

-His wide eyes were brimming with genuine curiosity

-You kind of got a kick out of how candid he was about such heavy conversation topics

-“Not as much as they should be but, I’m actually writing a paper on a similar topic right now...”

-This caused a brilliant grin to come over his face

-It was almost blinding really

-And it made your heartbeat all wonky

-“Of course you are. You look smart like that...”

-He had backed away from your table then, seemingly satisfied

-Had you passed the vibe check?

-“I’ll leave you to your paper.” He nodded to your laptop but as he walked away, he pivoted back towards you on and the heel of his combat boot, “welcome to Blackheart Bakery by the way, let me know if I can get you anything.”

-Another brilliant smile is sent your way

-“Thank you.” You had smiled back, sending a tiny wave his way

-Which in turn, made HIS heartbeat all wonky

-You’re cute

-Like really cute

-And despite how often it may seem like his eyes are elsewhere

-They are ALWAYS on you

-Every chance he gets he is glancing your way

-Smirking to himself at how endearing you are

-Brow furrowed

-Lips pouted in concentration

-Completely oblivious to his gaze

-He has to remind himself to look away

-He doesn’t want to be a creep

-“Creepy men deserved to get kicked in the teeth...”

-He’s said this to you before when another patron had made you uncomfortable

-Jungkook kicked him out immediately

-“If you don’t leave, I’ll have no choice but to kick you in the teeth. One, because I can’t compromise my personal philosophy and two because you’re making my favorite customer uncomfortable.”

-Oh look there goes your heartbeat again

-WONKY

-The guy leaves in an angry rush, flipping Jungkook off in the process

-Saying something about leaving a bad Yelp review

-He doesn’t care tho

-He definitely doesn’t want to be a creep

-You’re just so

-Pretty

-Ugh

-He rolls his eyes at himself behind the espresso bar

-The latte in front of him neglected

-In need of a bit of foam

-“Focus Jeon, she’s just a chick...”

No wait

-“She’s just a woman. A woman who I respect, like I respect all women...”

-He’s been watching a lot of feminist theory on YouTube

-He likes staying educated

-And also fuck the patriarchy

-The man waiting for his drink has arched a brow at this point, wondering if his barista has lost his mind

-“Uhhh medium...” he checks the cup for his awful hand writing, “ghostly toasted marshmallow latte!”

-“Thanks.” The guy mutters, throwing a judging look Jungkook's way

-He gives him a lazy salute as the guy struts away with a briefcase in tow

-“Thaaanks.” Jungkook mocks him, his face scrunching up in annoyance

-Stupid man

-With his stupid briefcase

-As Jungkook is pulling out a batch of cream cheese frosting stuffed pumpkin muffins

-Or as Jungkook calls them

-PUNK-in Muffins

-Movement at the counter catches his eye

-is that

-”oh shit...” He grunts, hastily wiping his hands on his apron and rushing over to the counter

-normally he would meander

-stroll

-or even slump to greet any new guests at this hour

-and by this hour

-he means 45 minutes before closing

-Jungkook’s bakery is open til midnight on weeknights

-9pm on Sundays

-and 3am on Saturdays (for the culture of course, gotta keep it spooky)

-tonight happens to be a Friday night and the person awaiting his assistance is

-you

-”You’re still here?” He gawks, the black polish on his nails glimmering as he punches in a few keys on the register

-You offer him a tired and slightly amused smile, “No. Y/N died around 4:30, you’re speaking to her ghost. Please leave your message after the tone.”

-Jungkook cracks a smile, his palms resting on flat on the counter, “Do ghosts check their voicemails?”

-“Oh of course not but, I will be checking yours because you have access to caffeine.”

-Jungkook laughs

-no...he giggles

-and it’s fucking cute

-but you digress

-“I feel like I should cut you off...this is your 4th latte; I’m pretty sure you’re 80% caffeine at this point...”

-“Noooo, don’t do that.” You whine slumping against the counter, “I just need to finish this one page...”

-He quirks a brow as he scribbles something on your cup, unimpressed with your statement, “You said that three hours ago. I’ll make you another one but I’m not putting an extra shot in.”

-Your face turns up in protest but he click his tongue against his teeth , shaking a manicured finger at you

-“Ah ah- nope. I don’t want to hear it. You either take that or I’m making you a hot chocolate and shutting the buildings power off.”

-With a dramatic sigh, you concede

-“Ugh fine. Here-” You go to hand him your debit card but he shakes his head

-“Put that away.”

-You want to protest but given the fact that he’s made the rules thus far during this interaction, you doubt you’d be able to stop him.

-A smile appears on your face then, appreciative of his generosity

-“Thank you.”

-He merely grins, waving you off before rolling up the sleeves of his black Blink 182 shirt

-as soon as his tattoos are out

-all the moisture leaves your mouth

-you try your hardest not to stare at him

-expertly, he eases the espresso shots into the milk, tongue poking between his lips in concentration

-and you

-being sleep-deprived

-and a little loopy

-decide to

-flirt????????

-if you could even call it that

-which you could but you shouldn’t

-“For the record, when I finally dig my way out of this of mountain of death I’m stuck in, I will definitely take you up on that hot chocolate...”

-Jungkook’s brow quirks at the tone of your voice, his hands suddenly itching with nerves

-was that

-was that flirty?

-should he flirt back?

-“My hot chocolate is legendary. You won’t be disappointed.” His lips display a small grin as he places the lid atop your finished latte, “Also mountain of death is a great name and I WILL be stealing it.”

-You giggle

-again

-“and I WILL be suing you for copyright.”

-He laughs now, wiping up the bit of milk he spilled

-the sinewy muscles in his forearm tensing and untensing

“Good luck getting me to show up to court.”

-and that’s kinda how it was between you and Jungkook

-for like six months

-it was a little bit flirty but never anything to push either over you over the edge.

-and speaking of being on edge

-recently, you had gone from vacationing in your timeshare on the edge

-to signing a 35 year mortgage contract

-4 bedrooms

-2.5 bathrooms

-of pure

-unrelenting

-stress

-you could feel it in the middle of your back

-shoving itself up between your shoulder blades

-your body seemed to ache with it

-the worst part being

-it was Halloween

-You should be out with your friends, having fun

-wearing itchy costumes and drinking sugary drinks

-but instead, your headed towards the bakery to work

-Jungkook was behind the counter, smiling happily at a family dressed like the cast of scooby doo

-from what you could see he was wearing a skeleton onesie

-his jet black hair tousled perfectly above his head

-he looked adorable

-(and hot)

-He notices you instantly, his face turning up in surprise

-you offer up a small wave and head over to your table

-you know he’s going to say something about you being there but

-you don’t really have much of a choice

-this work has to be done

-it takes him a second to spot you but when he does

-he seems to perk up

-his smile brightening as he looks back towards his customer

-as you’re setting everything up, you feel a presence (not the spooky kind) at the end of your table

-it’s Jungkook and he has your regular order in one hand, along with something wrapped in skeleton-patterned parchment paper

-“I know, I know.” You acknowledge before he’s even able to chide you for being here

-He smirks “What are you doing studying on the holiest day of the year??”

-You giggle

-“The holiest day of the year huh?”

-“Of course. Halloween is the one night a year that the homies can dress like total -sluts and no one can say anything about it.”

-This makes you giggle again

-“And you went with slutty skeleton huh? I love it- it’s like as naked as you can possibly get.”

-He chuckles, gesturing to his costume

-His floppy black hair getting in his face

-“Damn right baby.”

-The way he grins tells you the pet name is a joke

-But the deepening of his voice gets to you anyway

-“Thank you for this. I promise I’ll get out of your hair early tonight.”

-“The only thing I’m worried about getting out of my hair is this white spray paint. You’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”

-He’s put a streak of white spray paint in his raven locks

-Why? You’re not certain

-Does it look good on him, like everything else does?

-Absolutely

-Its been a few hours since your night of studying began

-Jungkook’s dropped off two free lattes since you’ve arrived

-As well as a slice of his ‘I write cinnamon not tragedies’ bread

-Which was equally hilarious and delicious

-You caught him glancing over at your table a few times but you didn’t think anything of it

-He’s probably just checking to make sure that no one needs your table

-His bakery is packed most nights but Halloween is a special night at Blackheart Bakery

-He has a trick or treat counter set up with free (homemade) candy

-A photo op complete with a fake haunted house backdrop

-A Halloween playlist

-And a bunch of discounts on his signature lattes and food

-you watch him amongst the chaos

-He is completely unfazed

-He seems elated at the amount of customers he has

-he grins and laughs at something a man dressed like Thor says at his counter

-he seems entirely in his element

-you realize that the denial tactics you’ve been trying out haven’t been working

-because this floppy haired, tattooed, slutty skeleton/baker kind of has a hold on your heart

-you’ve been friends for a long time now

-he always makes sure you’re taken care of

-he always asks if you’re ok

-he always gives you this little grin

-it feels like a secret sometimes

-but maybe it’s been his way of letting you know where he stands

-he’s been bringing you lattes and pastries for months now

-he never charges you full-price

-he always reminds you not to work too hard

-he

-fuck

-he likes you doesn’t he?

-you look back over at the counter to see him bending over and handing a skeleton cookie to a little girl dressed like Captain Marvel

-he laughs at something she says

-his eyes focused entirely on her and whatever she seems to be proclaiming to him

-your heart goes wonky again

-alright

-enough is enough

-you’re doing this

-Jungkook’s done so much of the work thus far

-it’s time for you to seal the deal

-and if he rejects you, well…

-you can just crawl into a hole and never come out again

-easy peasy

-You can feel his eyes on you as you get up to take your place in line

-luckily there isn’t anyone else behind you

-rejection with an audience would certainly be worse

-Jungkook has his witty comment ready for you as you approach the register

-“I know for a fact you haven’t finished your third latte and I’m not making you another one until-“

-“I’m not here for another latte.” You laugh, trying to ignore the thrashing of your heartbeat

-“No? Well, are you finally going to try my Welcome to the Blackened Chicken Parade Burger then? I’ve been asking you for like three weeks…”

-god he’s fucking cute

-“I’m here to ask you out.”

-Jungkook swears he feels his heart stop

-“You’re here to…”

-He repeats the first part of your response as his he didn’t hear you

-his black fingernails anxiously tapping against the countertop

-“I’m here to ask you out- on a date.”

-Jungkooks face seems to go through various stages of confusion before a shy smirk presents itself on his pretty mouth

-“Me? You’re asking me-“ He places a hand on his chest, “-out on a date?”

-“Yes!” You laugh, slapping the counter a bit too hard, your nerves getting the best of you, “Are you down?”

-He shakes his head but his answer contradicts his movements

-“So down, beyond down. There is no one on Earth who is more DOWN than I am. Yes. My answer is yes. 50000% yes.”

-you can’t help the smile on your lips

-“great. So are you free next Friday then?”

-He grins with his teeth this time, nodding emphatically

-“Consider the shop closed.”

-and so it was

-you returned to your table moments later

-feeling on top of the world

-you did it

-you asked Jungkook out

-and he said yes

-and now you

-NOW YOU HAVE A DATE WITH JUNGKOOK

-LOOK AT YOU GO

-TAKING CHARGE

-you try your best to engage with your studies but with Jungkook on your mind

-its really hard

-roughly two hours later, things at the bakery have finally started to slow down

-“Hey uh- Y/N?”

-Jungkook's voice that pulls you out of your studying trance

-he’s standing at the entrance of his back room, waving you over with his hand

-and who are you to deny him?

-you make your way over there, annoyed at the instant increase in your heartrate

-he stands awkwardly to the side and gestures to the boxes on the metal rack

-“I just remembered that I’ve never given you a tour of the place. I give all my regulars a tour of the stockroom and my office and uh-”

-he cuts himself off and clumsily cups your cheek

-he pulls you into a kiss

-a really good kiss

-his lips are so warm

-he smells like cinnamon

-you could literally die happy

-The ridiculous nature of his first attempt to kiss you, makes you giggle into his mouth

-you feel him smile, his hands smushing your cheeks together as he pulls away

-“Ok I lied. There is no tour. I’ve just been watching you focus on your computer for the last two hours and you’re just really fucking cute and-”

-this time, it’s you who cuts him off

-“You better give me an actual tour next time. How else am I going to steal your secret recipes?”

-he scoffs in mock offense

-“Ah ha! So that’s the only reason you asked me out huh? Should I be calling you Plankton instead of Y/N? Ew no wait- that would make me Mr. Krabs and he’s a dirty capitalist...”

-You laugh, “Oooh good point. Guess you’ll just have to be Karen, my computer wife.”

-This makes him laugh now and the sound warms your soul

-“I could live with that- I like your last name better anyways.”

-with another kiss, your adventure with the emo baker of your dreams begins

-It may have been Halloween but it sure felt like Christmas to you

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serenadeonacanoe · 3 years

Text

Honestly, I'd piss him off on purpose. (Namjoon x OFC)

Pairing: Namjoon x Original Female Character

Genre/Warnings: Smut, Angst, Fluff, too tired to beta

Tags: Artist!Namjoon, Yoongi and Tae are the best flatmates, Enemies to Lovers I guess... more like brats to making out in the storage unit, OFC is an idiot.

Summary:

"Wow. Is that that grumpy artist behind you? Jesus. He really looks like a bit of a dick. And you are right. He really is hot..." Oh no. Speakerphone. Namjoon was standing behind me and was staring at me. Then at my phone. He let out a little laugh, then raised his hand to wave at Tae and Yoongi outside who were now also staring at him as if frozen, before turning around in unison. As if that would help. As if he couldn't see them. Or better even... couldn't hear them.

[...]

Mister Darcy has nothing on Kim Namjoon - that new and upcoming artist you probably already heard of (You haven't? How dare you? At least have the decency to pretend you have!). He is cold, serious, and rather good at making other people believe he is a prick. Especially Elizabeth Bennet - uh... Charlotte - is about to lose it because of him. Maybe in a good way. Man, I'd literally piss him off on purpose.

More chapters on AO3

CHAPTER 1

Even the sound of my own nails rhythmically tapping on the top of the counter was annoying me. To be fair, it didn't need much today to blow my fuze that had never been particularly long in the first place. But after a week consisting of being belittled by old white men and endless hours of unpaid overtime I about had it. Welcome to the art world. You know well before you enter that the hours are horrible and the job market is more than frustrating, but you love art and you have good organisational skills, you are resilient, charming when it counts and tend to romanticize things even when you know you shouldn't. It's too late to turn around now.

"That is why I don't use an agenda or notebook. If something is important enough for me to attend I simply won't forget. I know you youngsters are all about the bullet journaling and expressing yourself by mapping out your life but it really is just another way to procrastinate instead of getting to actual work." For a second I considered throwing my damn notebook in the buyer's face, but that probably wouldn't have helped my CV and the new job I would have to look for starting tomorrow. At least I should have screamed at him a little. Mainly, that I didn't care, that I was on my period and my shitty shower in the shitty flat i shared had broken and no dry shampoo in the world had fixed my hair this morning and that god damn it, how the hell was I supposed to remember every phone number, every call my boss had to take, every art handling transport I had organized if I couldn't write it down somewhere. Instead, I smiled. Died a little on the inside and complimented him on the gift of his exceptional memory and asked whether he would like another cup of coffee.

"What a dick." Samantha murmured, more to herself than me, after the guy had finally left, which made me snort under my breath. She usually didn't say much but when she did it was usually pure gold. In the end, it didn't matter that he was. Didn't matter that everyone at the gallery thought the art he had bought from us over the last couple of months had neither been smart nor impressive purchases. Mainly expensive. And flashy.

"Doesn't matter now." I said in a sigh after a quick glance at the clock. It was Friday night and we were about to close. Since it was my birthday on Monday I had taken two days off, about the longest break I had had this year and I was looking forward to being the lazy slob for a few days I was maybe always meant to be. In silence we answered a few last emails, tidied up the desks and counters so that potential buyers that would come in over the weekend wouldn't have to suspect anyone was actually working here. - A white desk. A huge Imac on it. That was all they needed to see, folders and pens and apparently especially agendas to be hidden away in drawers.

At five to eight I threw on my coat and Samantha just gave me a tired smile. Probably happy for me, just exhausted. "Have fun then? Don't get too wasted?" "Oh..." I said with a huge smug grin on my lips. "You have no idea... gonna take a bottle of Moët with me from the bar and drink it in my bathtub after eating a huge pepperoni pizza by myself and dancing to only the finest of 90s Euro Trash." I couldn't help it, apparently, I felt it necessary to give Sam a little demonstration, waving my arms up and down while swaying my hips in a way that I'd probably would not have if it hadn't been for a bit with an audience of a single person. Or maybe two?

A quiet scoff behind me and I quickly turned around, slowly lowering my arms, Sam biting her lower lip at the sight of me standing there like an idiot in front of HIM of all people.

Men didn't have to be old to annoy me. Or white. Yes, those were the ones that pissed me off most usually, but no one had managed to do so as much as Kim Namjoon recently. And now he was standing there, looking me up and down and stopping at my hair. The crazy too-much-dry-shampoo-because-the-shower-broke-hair. "Nice." He just commented and then looked over at Sam. "I'd like to take a last look before Sunday's opening if that is okay?" I stood there, my shoulders dropping, completely ignored.

"Uhm, actually, my babysitter has to leave in about an hour and I will have to be home before that." Samantha replied and I was impressed by how calm she stayed. "Of course." Namjoon said and gave her a slight smile. "Anyone else still around? Chris maybe?" Of course Chris hadn't been in today. It was Friday and unless important guests had announced themselves the owner of the gallery wasn't around on Fridays... "I am afraid not. But maybe Charlotte has a few minutes?" Well. Thanks. Thanks a lot. I felt a little betrayed. "Wouldn't want to keep anyone from their important Moët-Pizza-Dance Party plans." Namjoon replied before I could say a word. His voice once more dropping to a hushed, deep disapproval and his hands buried in the pockets of his rather expensive looking coat. Silence for a few moments and then he just walked off towards the room his exhibition had been set up all week. Showing without a further word that I would have to stay anyways if he wanted it that way.

"Well thank you for pushing me under the bus like that. Really appreciate it." "I am so sorry. But I was serious, I can't lose this babysitter. She got Jamie to eat vegetables. VEGETABLES!" Samantha suddenly seemed in a rush, grabbing her jacket and purse and showering me in promises she would make it up to me. Even though we both knew that wouldn't happen and wasn't necessary. Suddenly having to stay longer was normal. I just hated that it had to be today. And because of him.

I heard the door close behind Sam and I stood there for a second before putting my bag down again. Usually, I would have followed the artist, asking if I could somehow help, but nahhh... my ego was bruised up enough now, especially remembering the little dance. I closed my eyes. Fucking hated the guy. Always had. Well, not quite. I had thought he was cool for about five minutes when he had come in the first time. We had heard about him for quite a few months before, I think I had even seen pictures of him at some point, but those were nothing compared to him in real life. He came in all cheekbones and sharp chin and an all grey outfit, quick pace, observant gaze. Incredibly hot. He had also completely ignored me.

That's how it had started - a bruised ego. He couldn't know that it was my weak spot. Having studied art and its management and now feeling like a better secretary at times, when my colleagues and I were doing all the behind the scenes work while Chris worked very little hours and ended up with all the money and recognition. I was aware this wasn't the only field of work where this was the case, but it still frustrated me... I had imagined my life in the last years of my 20s to be a bit more glamorous than living in a tiny apartment on the outskirts of the city... spending my Friday night waiting for some rude artist dude to leave so I could lock up.

But what I perhaps hated most about him... was that I admired him. - Purely for his art. Really. Even the fact that he kept acting as if I wasn't around every time he came in didn't mean I couldn't admit that. At least to myself. The stories behind his huge colleagues were clever and thought through, but even without context, the pure aesthetics were mesmerizing. It was the kind of art that touched something deep inside of you and standing in front of it I always had a hundred questions. Whenever he brought in a new piece I was the first one to sneak a peek in the back rooms before it was hung.

"I don't get why you have such a problem with him. He is just... quiet. I think he might even be shy... stop being so sensitive and just ask him out already." I had almost strangled Sam for that comment a couple of weeks back. Stop being so sensitive. What did that even mean? Comments like that made me want to cry and scream at the same time, which probably would have been perceived as even more sensitive, but when had insensitivity become something to strive for? I had only kept quiet because I liked Sam and I knew what she had tried to say. At least I thought so. That I might have given less of a shit if I hadn't been rather attracted to Namjoon. Even though I had never mentioned it, she just knew. She knew if I didn't care about something I didn't waste my time on it. But if something made me angry or upset there was usually more to it. I hated that she could read me that easily. But he was still a dick and I still wanted to go home.

He took his sweet time. After an hour I walked up to him, a little speech prepared in my head about how he could come back first thing tomorrow. But when he turned around he just raised a hand between us to keep me from interrupting and turned away again. I hadn't seen that he was on the phone. "No, it's nothing, just one of the gallery employees." I heard him say and okay... if I wasn't about to explode before I was now. I stood there for a minute, fuming, and then simply walked back to the office area, my hand shaking when I started turning off the gallery lights one by one. It wasn't as satisfying as I had hoped but still felt good. Two minutes later the only lights still on were the one above my head and the one in front of the door. I would at least give him a clear direction where to head, he seemed to need it.

When Namjoon appeared out of one of the dark corners he looked even more annoyed than usual. Looking my direction through squinting eyes and his tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek. "Seriously?" he yelled my way and almost walked into one of the little flyer shelves. Wasn't the first time I had seen that happen to him though so maybe that had nothing to do with the light.

I felt oddly triumphant. By the time I had put on my coat and turned off the remaining lights, ready to finally lock up, Namjoon had almost found his way, standing in the open door, still on his phone. A little groan from my side when he didn't even notice that I was standing behind me went by unnoticed. Or simply ignored. But instead of the appropriate clearing of the throat or the maybe less polite squeezing past him, I just put my hands on his back and gently pushed him forward a bit, until his feet hit the pavement and he turned around. Dropping his hand with the phone in it, for a second he looked like he wanted to push back. Or trample me.

"Okay, what the hell is your problem, Charlotte?" His voice was hoarse. His eyes dark. God, he was hot. I hated him so much. "You." I simply replied and stared at him for a second, then turned around and locked the two locks on the door before stepping over to the alarm system. I couldn't help feeling smug because apparently, he knew my name. I imagined him staring at the back of my head because he was flustered, but couldn't be sure. All I knew was that when I turned around again a minute later he was still standing there, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his lips pressed together forming a straight line and watching me.

"Do you always act like that at work around people who could get you into trouble?" He was right, he could get me into trouble. But I was too fired up now, my heart racing. "Is that a threat?" "An observation." "Only around the ones I don't like." "Cool." "Great." "Enjoy the dance party. Sounds shit."

And with those words he had turned around, coat flying open in the wind, unfortunately making him look really cool as he walked away and I ABSOLUTELY HATED HIM. I kept my mouth shut and just walked off in the other direction, realizing minutes later that my car was parked the other way, but I kept walking for a while before I finally turned around. It took a while to calm down and only cuddling up to my cat on the couch to trash tv finally did the job. But by then I had realized something I wasn't sure I liked too much. Yeah, I thought he was a prick. And yeah I should have just played it cool. Would have been much smarted in many regards. But I also had somewhat enjoyed myself in the most fucked up way.

Seeing that stern look, that intense posture as he was towering over me... man, I'd literally piss him off on purpose.

More chapters on AO3

#namjoon fanfic #bts fanfic #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon angst #namjoon fluff #artist!namjoon

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cerberusdailynews · 3 years

Text

[PEOPLE] Interview with an Ardat-Yakshi

By Cil M’riste, freelance storyteller xposted to Freelance News, Cerberus Daily News, The Watch, and 14 others The Ardat-Yakshi condition is one of our oldest myths. One that is largely presumed to be legend by a large portion of the galaxy’s population. The term “ardat-yakshi” appears in fantasy books, in extranet games, and even in extranet RP forums. But what is the condition, and what is the myth? Most people will never even meet those with the underpinning medical issue. But I happened to get a chance to sit down with someone with the condition, to get her thoughts on a few issues facing people like herself. I myself am not a doctor, nor any legal scholar. So any information provided by this interview can only be taken as a small view into a larger issue. They are the opinions and lived experiences of but one person living with the condition. The rest of the article will be presented in a Q/A format, with a set of final thoughts from myself. Cil (C): "Hi, Nara. It's nice to meet you! Thanks for doing this. How was the trip here?" Nara (N): "Um... nice to meet you too, Cil, my job is to pilot a freighter between here and Palaven, so I make this trip a lot. This time it was a little slower than usual. You'd think traffic jams wouldn't be a thing in three-dimensional space, but with the amount of starship traffic around the Citadel, that's not always true. But I assume you're not here to interview me about my trip. You're here to interview me because I'm an Ardat-Yakshi. Well... Ask away." C:"Oh, no. While that’s true, that it's not what we came here for, I'm not aiming to rush you. But if you'd like to get into it, certainly. Let's see…" N: "Yeah, I'd like to get the tough questions out of the way sooner, I've been stressed out about this interview for like the whole day, and once we get those out of the way it'll be a huge load off my back." C: “Well, for starters. All most of us know about Ar- about those with your condition is that they are... well, extremely controlled, to put it mildly. Most of that knowledge comes from vids and games and all manner of fictional sources, so I don't even know if that's actually part of their thing, but for the sake of asking... Have you ever had an encounter with a Justicar?" N: "I can neither confirm nor deny that, unfortunately. Damn it. Uhhhhh... some of it, but not all of it, will probably be declassified in like fifty years or something. If we're both still around then, I can answer that question. But I think this is the only question that would run into that problem, so feel free to ask anything else you want." C:"So if there's something to declassify that insinuates, at least in my view, at least a tip to the scales in the 'yes' direction. But we'll move on, for sure. Hopefully this one is a little more easily answered. Now, as I understand it, for obvious reasons you've spent your life outside of the Asari Republics entirely. What has life been like for you living away from the traditional asari space?" N: "That... is quite a broad question, you could get a whole interview out of that, if you wanted. But if you want a short answer... On Palaven, especially in the city I grew up in, there weren't very many asari. I spent my whole childhood trying to fit in with my turian neighbors, and I didn't really have other asari to interact with other than my parents. When I became an adult, I enlisted to join the Turian military, where I stayed for most of my life so far, then retired to the reserves several years ago. I ended up having to become a cabalist since I was a biotic, like almost all asari are. There was only one other asari in my cabal though, and we didn't really get along much. First deployment was to Irune, which was pretty peaceful. Also met my wife there, so it made up for having to wear an exosuit all the time. Second deployment was to Solregit, which was... not peaceful. There was a rebellion on the planet's northern hemisphere that wanted to secede from the Hierarchy, which I'm sure you've heard about before. And, of course, I helped defend Palaven during the Reaper War. If there's anything you'd like me to go into more detail about, ask away." C:"Wife? Can you explain how that happened? Were they aware of...everything?" [Nara showed me some pictures here] N:"We met through an online dating service, actually. I stated up-front in my profile that my condition made it impossible for me to meld with anyone, or... be intimate in a way that could risk me accidentally melding with them. But Jin wasn't really interested in either of those things, so we were both happy together in spite of that. I think I have some wedding photos in my omnitool I can show you. That's her. That's Jin. And that's me next to her, but it's hard to tell it's me because the suit obscures my face." C:"Awwww. Those are lovely pictures. Many of us in our maiden stage don't settle down so easily. Do you think living in a mostly turian area growing up influenced your desire to commit to someone that early? And if you don't mind another question to move us along... You seem relatively outspoken about your condition. Is there a reason you feel the need to take what most people would likely consider the risky position of putting yourself and your condition out there without secrecy?" N: "To answer your first question, I would say yes, absolutely. Most of my turian peers, those who did settle down, at least, tended to do so in their thirties. I was thirty-eight years old when I married Jin, which is a little above average for a turian but I found out later that it was like, crazy low for an asari. Your second question is kind of complicated because I have multiple reasons. Firstly, and most importantly, is that somebody needs to speak out. If any of the Ardat-Yakshi in the Republics tried to do an interview like this, they'd be killed or locked up by Justicars or by the government or an angry mob of other asari. I'm still worried sometimes that they'll try and do that to me anyway, even though I've never been to asari space, and if it's a justicar I don't stand any chance of winning a one-on-one fight with one. I have a responsibility to speak up for those who can't speak for themselves, while I still can. Secondly, I'm from the Hierarchy and Turian culture places a very very strong value on honesty. Directly lying about my condition would go against everything I stand for. Thirdly, if what I say informs people about Ardat-Yakshi, it lessens the risk of other Ardat-Yakshi accidentally or, though I'm sad to say it, intentionally injuring or killing innocent people. If even one life is saved, even if I get killed, speaking up will have been worth it. Lastly, though this isn't that important since it only affects my personal life, but I am really, really, annoyed by stereotypes about asari promiscuity and especially asari maiden promiscuity. Letting it be known that I can't sleep with anyone because it could kill them cuts down on unwanted propositioning by, like, ninety percent." C: "Thank you… Those answers definitely shed some light on why you're willing to be rather public about these things. It's a good goal, wanting less people to be hurt. The idea of informing others actually leads quite nicely into my next question. I'm fairly certain I know the answer to this one- But are there any big myths that are simply false, or incomplete information that you think people should know the truth about?" N: "Well, to start things off, basically everything in stuff like Galaxy of Fantasy is wrong. We don't have magic powers, we can't resurrect the dead, et cetera. Most of these should be fairly obviously false, so I'm not going to spend that much time on them because otherwise I'd have to spend all day ranting about stuff like that one human I met who claimed I was somehow a real-life vampire or something. I get so many vampire comparisons. It's annoying. Ardat-yakshi aren't vampires. There's like, no connection at all. Anyway, to get back on track, there's one very important myth I would like to dispel. The ardat-yakshi medical condition is actually a spectrum. The lethal variant of the condition, which I have, is very very rare, but there are other variants that aren't lethal, and are much more common. At the mildest and most common end you have people who just give their meld partners temporary headaches, though most people with this variant don't actually know that what they have is technically a variant of the ardat-yakshi disease, and the Republics don't persecute them like they do with people like me. However, they're still infertile, just like anyone else on the A-Y spectrum. Further along the spectrum, the condition gets bad enough that each meld basically gives the ardat-yakshi's meld partner a concussion, and then even further along the spectrum comes permanent brain damage from each meld, and some ardat-yakshi can even leave their partners comatose in extreme cases. Or dead." C:"Thank you for your answers. I can't imagine it's easy to talk about some of this, given the way the disorder is regarded. Now that we've discussed things that are false, what are some true things you wished other people knew about it?" N: "Well, melding is actually addictive for Ardat-Yakshi, just as the Republics and Justicars say it is. I'm not exactly sure how addictive it is, since at the time of my only meld, which was before I knew I was an Ardat-Yakshi of course, I was already trying to fight off an Aurora addiction. I'm not sure what withdrawal effects were from that and what were from the meld, but it's definitely possible to fight off the addiction. Secondly, Ardat-Yakshi serial killers, though I would like to emphasize that they are very, very rare and are in no way representative of the average A-Y sufferer, do actually exist. They normally don't get very far in the Republics proper, since an autopsy can reveal how the victims died and you can test suspects for the Ardat-Yakshi medical condition. But outside asari space, people don't know how to actually catch the serial killers because the Republics keep trying to suppress information about Ardat-Yakshi, and the serial killers can amass staggering body counts because of that. The Republics would seemingly let hundreds of innocent people die to... um... avoid making themselves look bad or something? I'm actually kind of confused as to why they don't just tell everyone the truth for once." C: "Hm. That makes sense. But what about asari colonies, or even nations with asari majority or pluralities? Surely the condition can occur in them as well? Even if the Republics are, as you say, loath to reveal the truth, surely someone out there has been doing research too? That's just a thought though, I don't actually expect you to know what groups or nations all across the Terminus might be doing." N:"As far as I know, the condition, well, the forms of the condition severe enough to be dangerous, anyway, is rare enough that research isn't prioritized, especially since A-Y is basically a pureblood exclusive disease and asari colonies outside the Republics tend to have fewer purebloods." C:"Well, I have two more questions planned, so we're really scooting along here. Thank you again for sitting down with me. Let's see... Are there any mistakes you've made in your efforts to spread awareness for this condition?" N:"Well, with the fact that so few Ardat-Yakshi are able to speak openly about their conditions, when I talk to people about this, I'm basically the only Ardat-Yakshi that most people ever know about. Since I'm their only reference point, I worry that people will take my flaws and apply them to everyone with the condition. I admit, I'm not the best figurehead. I'm a convicted criminal, albeit for something I don't want to discuss here. I'm a veteran of a, to put it mildly, controversial war on Solregit. And I don't get along with people sometimes, along with other various personality flaws. But there are Ardat-Yakshi who are better people than I am. They simply never got the chance to speak out, like I do. One more question, and then I have to get back to my ship." C:"Of course, I don't want to take up too much of your time. I only had one last one planned anyway." Well we've spoken about many aspects of the situation as-it-is. What, to you, would a more just policy look like in the Republics?" N: "To put it simply, equality under the law. No preemptive targeting of Ardat-Yakshi based on what we might do, with the monasteries as a strictly voluntary institution. Ardat-Yakshi who have knowingly hurt or murdered people should still be arrested, like any other criminal. Ardat-Yakshi who do not harm others should be treated the same as anyone else. All I ask is that you judge each of us by our own actions, not the actions of others." C:"A fine answer. One I think the vast majority of people can empathize with. I understand. You probably have a schedule to keep. But it's been a pleasure getting to know you some, Nara. I look forward to writing this up." With the interview concluded, I walked away with a few different feelings. I entered the conversation a little nervously. I had no more special knowledge of the AY condition than any other asari out there. Since I’m not a doctor I can’t speak to the accuracy of any of the medical specific claims my guest made. But I felt that her desire to make more information known was genuine. During the conversation there were certainly no feelings of threat or manipulation that I picked up on. And I sympathize greatly with the idea of wanting to be treated the same as everyone else. It was a very interesting conversation; and one that opens a window into a phenomena that is very rarely covered in anything but fiction. I hope you enjoyed the small look into the world of Ardat-Yakshi as much as I enjoyed bringing it to you.

#cdn #cerberus daily news #mass effect #mass effect rp #mass effect news #asari #ardat-yakshi #people #thessia #interview #asari republics #discrimination #health

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tothemeadow · 3 years

Text

‘the doctor’ / Midoriya x Reader

Uwu, this is the first official post that hasn’t been imported from the other blog ( ´ ω ` ) Also, this has been sitting around on my computer for the past two months, so enjoy these crumbs while I strive to finish up the semester!

warnings: NSFW, doctor/patient relationship, grinding, heavy petting, fascination for hybrids?, y’all fuck but I didn’t write the whole thing

words: 3,752

(a/n): hehehehehe add this to the list of taboo relationship works I’ve done

“The doctor will see you now.”

The secretary sitting behind the desk flashes you a smile as you pass by her. The two of you are already on a first name basis, considering that you have biweekly checkups. With a quirk like yours, it can be detrimental to your health if it goes unchecked for too long. You have enough meds in your system to possibly knock out a small child, but you’ve long since grown used to it.

Still, as you pass from the waiting room and into the hall leading to numerous checkup rooms, your palms feel impossibly clammy. Your previous doctor recently retired after spending so many years in the field, and now you were supposed to meet your new doctor. Granted, your previous one told you many great things about this new kid, about how he’ll take great care of you. You’re not too confident in the sudden change, but it can’t be helped. Unless you wanted to suffer horribly, you had to seek some type of help.

Shuffling to room number six, you silently close the door behind you and take a deep breath. Your intestines feel unusually tight, ache with an indescribable force. Despite your quirk being a relatively simple one – doggification, which essentially means you have the characteristics and properties of a dog – your body could never get quite a grasp on it. Despite looking entirely like a human, your telltale features are the ears and tail protruding from your body. Even now, you can tell your ears are flat against your head and your tail is tucked between your legs.

Gently, you sit on the table, the parchment paper crinkling under your weight. Wringing your hands, you will your breathing to ease, your mind to relax. It’s only the doctor’s office, nothing more, nothing less. You’ve been here practically all your life, so what gives? Oh, that’s right – a new doctor who you’ve never met before.

A few minutes pass; nothing happens besides the tick tock tick tock of the lone clock hanging from the wall, the slight hum from the lightbulbs. Your nerves feel raw, your heart frantic, your breathing irregular. You constantly remind yourself that you’re fine, you’re just nervous. You’re here for a reason, after all. If you want to continue living healthily, you need this treatment. There’s no point in chickening out now.

Just then, the door swings open; you jump in your place as you snap back to reality. Pulse quickening, you’re left wide-eyed as the doctor comes in. He’s nothing like you were expecting – instead of some elderly gentleman like your previous doctor, this new guy is young. He’s ridiculously cute, a mess of green curls piled on his head and a burst of freckles adorning his skin. For a doctor, he surprisingly has an athletic build, so you’re left wondering if he exercises regularly or played a sport in school. But oh, the way his scrubs cling to his meaty arms, stretch over his thick thighs. It’s almost ridiculous how baby-faced he is, especially compared to his Adonis-like body.

Without you knowing, your ears and tail stand to attention, curious about this newcomer.

The doctor flashes you a pearly smile as he reaches a hand towards you. “(y/n)? I’m Doctor Midoriya. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Doctor Midoriya.

Yeah, you like the sound of that. And the way your name rolls off your tongue? Perfection.

Hesitantly, you reach out a hand and grasp onto his for a handshake. His hand is large, fingers long and spindly, and his grip is strong. They’re actually pretty, dotted with freckles and striped with scars. Interesting, you muse, wondering just exactly what he did to get scars like that.

“So,” Doctor Midoriya starts, pulling away and planting himself on the stool stationed by the counter, “doggification, huh? You have a typical hybrid quirk, so it seems.” Pausing for a moment, he glances at his notes attached to his clipboard. “But, since you’re part Doberman pinscher, you suffer from dilated cardiomyopathy. The breed usually has problems regarding that, right?”

You nod in confirmation. “Yeah. Apparently, many owners don’t know their dogs have it until they collapse on the ground. I uh, I’ve been dealing with this my whole life, so….”

You really, really like the gentle expression Doctor Midoriya gives you. His cheeks look squishy despite his sharp jawline, lips a delicate shade of dusty rose… Shit, he’s beautiful yet he chose to become a doctor.

“Doctor Torino left his previous files, and I’ve been studying them before he retired,” he explains, drawing himself to a stand. “He was great, wasn’t he? I’m sorry if I don’t own up to your expectations.” Crossing over to the table, he unloops the stethoscope from around his neck and sticks the buds in his ears. “I need you to breathe in and out for me, nice and slow,” he tells you, pressing the cool metal to your chest.

You go through the usual routines, inhaling and exhaling deeply. Doctor Midoriya hums in which you assume is a good way; you can feel your skin heating up whenever large green eyes flick to your face, digging in right to your soul.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” he says, voice low. The deep rumble sets your nerves alight, your insides pulsing. Dare you say it, but you’re disappointed when he pulls away, looping the stethoscope back around his neck. He scribbles something onto his clipboard, his lips pursed in thought. You take the opportunity to study his side profile, the dainty curve of his nose, the angle of his jaw. How big is this guy, anyway? He’s huge for a doctor.

“I’m six-three, if that’s what you’re wondering,” he chirps, tossing down his pencil. He laughs at the startled expression playing on your face. “Sorry, sorry… A uh, a lot of people ask me that, you know? And I typically get a good read on what people are thinking, so… Yeah! Some people used to call me tree in med school! You know, because of the green hair and all…” Clearing his throat awkwardly, he walks back over to where you sit. “How have you been feeling since your last visit?”

Subconsciously rubbing at your chest, you send him a mere shrug. “I’ve been better, I’ve been worse. I’m just bummed Doctor Torino left on such short notice.”

“That makes two of us,” Doctor Midoriya admits, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. “He’s such a great mentor and all, don’t get me wrong, but it sucks that his time is up.”

Cocking your head, your ears twitch with interest. “Mentor?”

At that, Doctor Midoriya’s face lights up. “Oh! Yeah! I had my internship with Doctor Torino, and he taught me so much!”

“Internship…? Really? I don’t remember seeing you around whenever I had appointments with him.”

“Nah, I don’t think so. I would’ve remembered seeing someone like you!” He giggles – giggles – at his own words, but then it quickly dies down as realization crosses his features. “Wait, wait!” he says frantically, waving his hands before him. “I didn’t mean to sound creepy or anything like that! It’s just that you don’t see hybrids very often, and you’re a dog, and I happen to really like dogs, and I-“ His yammering turns into an incoherent mumble, then, as he awkwardly wrings his hands together.

Heh. He’s pretty cute.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” you say, shooting his own words back at him. “You’re a newbie, right? You’re awfully young for a doctor.”

To your pleasant surprise, Doctor Midoriya blushes. Instinctively, he claps a hand over his mouth and looks away. Again, he clears his throat. “I graduated last year, actually. So yeah, I’m still new to this whole thing, but I want to help as much as I can!” Turning back to you, his flustered expression melts into a determined one. “And since you’re my first serious patient, you can rely on me. I promise to take real good care of you, mark my words.”

You smile. “I look forward to it, Doctor. I expect you to keep that promise.”

Three months. Three solid months.

Hypothetically, you should be thrilled being in Doctor Midoriya’s presence so often. Realistically, it’s pure torture.

How this guy doesn’t realize he’s easily the hottest person in the room is beyond you, plus his personality is downright adorable. It’s funny, really, how you’re the one with the dog quirk yet he’s the one who acts more like one. He gets excited over the simplest of things, and you were quick to realize that he’s a giant nerd. It’s clear that he’s got a brain in that skull of his – and, if you’re being entirely honest, it makes Doctor Midoriya that much more attractive.

His constant murmuring and chippering never fail to put a smile on your face. With every appointment you have with him, you purposefully bring up a topic he’s bound to show some interest in just to hear him talk. So yeah, you might be infatuated with your insanely hot doctor, but who can blame you? He’s kindhearted, smart, good-looking, has a good job…. Okay, and maybe he’s packing down south. It’s not your fault that his scrubs clung to his body that one time. You just happened to notice it.

You doubt he’s doing these kind of things on accident. Hell, Doctor Midoriya blatantly flirts with you, for crying out loud. Well, it’s actually more subtle than that, but the point still stands.

“(y/n)?” Doctor Midoriya calls out as he enters the room, the door sliding shut behind him. Warmth floods your chest as your tail sets off in a slow wag. He laughs at your reaction, that toothy smile of his forming on his face. Just like every other time he shows it, you fall a little bit deeper for him.

“Doctor Midoriya,” you greet. Your fingers dig into the table as you bite down on your bottom lip. He looks good, dark blue scrubs shaping his figure nicely. You, on the other hand, stick to a simple pair of gym shorts and t-shirt. It’s a hot day outside, after all.

As Doctor Midoriya scribbles something down on his handy clipboard, you slowly spread your legs further apart. It’s a slight bit, nothing more, but the movement seems to catch his attention. Setting down his pencil, you notice how his eyes linger on your bared thighs for a moment longer than what’s considered appropriate. Slipping the stethoscope from around his neck, he gets up from his stool and crosses to wear you sit.

“Any problems lately?” he asks, voice as professional as always. Sneaky bastard, trying to pretend like he wasn’t just staring at your thighs.

“Besides the weather, not really. The heat makes things a bit easier, though,” you tell him.

Doctor Midoriya hums. Pressing the end of the stethoscope to your chest, he tells you to breathe in and out, nice and deep. “I’m not hearing any abnormalities in your breathing,” he says simply, switching to your back instead. “Besides the DCM, you’re in wonderful health.”

“That’s a relief,” you mutter.

He continues to go through the regular routine of your biweekly checkup. Soon enough, he’s looking through a scope at your dog ears, checking for any signs of an incoming infection. Try as you might, but you enjoy the way he caresses your ear, leaning into his touch as your tail takes off wagging. Doctor Midoriya chuckles, indulging in your wants and giving your ears a proper scratch.

“You really are like a dog,” he points out, his tone lighthearted. “A cute little puppy.” And there he goes, blessing your ears with his giggle. As you glance at him, you see the pretty blush adorning his cheeks, the gleam of mirth in his large eyes.

Puppy.

For some ungodly reason, you really like the way it sounds coming from his mouth.

“You shouldn’t be referring to your patients with a pet name, Doctor,” you drawl.

The blush on his face darkens. In true fashion, he hastily looks away and awkwardly coughs into his fist. “My apologies,” he murmurs. “If… If it’s any consolation, your ears are really soft…”

A small smile pulls at the corners of your lips. “I’m only teasing,” you reassure.

He flinches.

Teasing.

“Besides, you said you really like dogs, right? I think puppy is cute.”

Doctor Midoriya looks back to you. “…Really?”

You nod. “I do.”

For a moment, neither one of you say anything. The look in Doctor Midoriya’s eyes is unreadable; whether that’s a good thing or not, you’re not entirely too sure. He’s usually easy to get a read on, but like this… It’s nearly impossible.

“Do you mind if we check your flexibility? It’s just touching your toes, nothing more. If your back is out, I’ll recommend some chiropractors.”

Okay, strange. You figure he wants to change the subject – you know, and do his job – so you do as he says, hopping down from the table and stepping away. As you bend over, your fingertips skimming the toes of your sneakers, large hands splay out on your back. You jolt from the contact, your breath catching in your throat. Their movements are calculated, feeling along your spine for any sort of abnormality. You can practically feel Doctor Midoriya’s eyes boring into you; the hairs on your arms and the back of your neck come a stand as you wait for him to do something, anything.

“Your spine feels fine,” he tells you. “You feel a bit tense, though. Do you bend over a lot?”

Excuse me?

You scoff. “I’m bending over right now, aren’t I?”

Doctor Midoriya makes some weird choking sound. “No, no, that’s not what I meant! I meant when you sit or something like that…!”

“I’m teasing, Doctor. Relax.” You wiggle underneath his touch. “Am I allowed to stand straight now?”

You can practically feel the tension radiating off him. “I… Not yet. I need to check one last thing, okay?” Again, he uses that low, husky pitch, the one that reverberates deep in his chest. This is only the second time you’re hearing it, but fuck does it make your insides squeeze and your breath hitch.

Before your mind can completely register it, Doctor Midoriya’s large hands are on your ass, kneading the ample flesh through your shorts. A slight groan slips from your mouth at the unexpected contact. Shit, his hands are even larger than you originally thought, his grip rough and demanding.

“Does it hurt?” he continues, his voice staying as it is, making your brain turn delirious.

“N-no,” you stutter. You immediately cuss yourself out internally. A sharp gasp breaks from your throat as one of his hands grips the base of your tail and gives it a slight tug.

“How about now?”

You wince as he does it again. “Yes, okay?” you seethe through clenched teeth. “Just don’t… Don’t tug on my tail like that.”

“So, your ears and tail are sensitive,” Doctor Midoriya mumbles to himself. “Interesting.”

“Doctor, what are you even going on about-“

At that very moment, those strong hands of his yank you backwards, your ass colliding with his pelvis. Heart leaping to your throat, you’re left scrambling for a shred of reality. Doctor Midoriya leans over you, his muscular chest pressing into your back. He’s so warm, and he oddly smells like mint, but it’s not like you’re going to complain anytime soon.

“This is such a bad idea,” he confesses into your ear, “but you’re just so cute, puppy. You like it when I call you that, right?”

“Doctor-“

“Tell me to stop,” he continues, a frantic edge to his voice now, “tell me I’m a disgusting pervert. I shouldn’t be doing this, but shit… I’ve been fantasizing about holding you this close.” Subconsciously, he rocks his hips into you, his engorged cock grinding into your ass.

Shit, shit, is this really happening? Your doctor has just fessed up to fantasizing about you, and, to be quite frank, you’re a bit too happy to hear that. It’s not like he’s the only one feeling this way; you’ve had your fair share of dreams over the months, most of them with him in between your legs in some fashion.

Straightening up, you reach back and grab him by the back of the neck, balancing yourself in his grip. A breathless noise fills your ear as you grind back against him, your nails scratching into his nape.

“O-oh,” he says, the sound delightfully raspy as it fills your ear.

“You aren’t the only one who’s been thinking of things,” you confess, your voice sounding equally as strained. Again, some unholy noise slips from his dusty lips, the grip on your hips tightening ever so slightly.

“Puppy… Don’t say things like that.”

You bark out a laugh. “Don’t tell me you’re going soft, Doctor. Acting like you’re in charge one moment and then like a scared little bunny the next. A big boy like you should choose one and stick with it.”

Now you’ve done it. Like merely flicking a switch, Doctor Midoriya moans into your ear as he spins you around and stumbles backwards, ass landing on the examination table with you in tow. You squeak in surprise as he easily drags you into his lap, lifting you up as though you weighed next to nothing. The lustful haze in his eyes is evident, the blush adorning his face making his freckles pop.

“Shit,” you curse, eyelids fluttering as his cock rubs frantically against your ass. Again, another surprised noise escapes your mouth as he bounces you in his lap, his clothed erection grinding against your ass and sex. A sliver of tongue peeks from between his teeth, the gleam in his eyes nothing short of determination.

“This is so wrong,” Doctor Midoriya murmurs, his fingertips digging harshly into your ass. “But you like it, right? Right, puppy? You want me to fuck you, right? Right?”

Goddammit-

“Yes,” you grit, fingers clutching at his broad shoulders while your tail impatiently smacks against his thighs. “Come on, Doc, treat me like the good little puppy I am.”

You should’ve expected this, really. An almost animalistic whimper bursts from the back of his throat as he surges forward, shoving his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like cherry lip balm and the lingering sweetness of a cough drop – it’s an odd mixture, but not one that you dislike. Months of built-up tension are finally breaking free from the dam, desperate movements and slurred words quickly taking over your mind. Doctor Midoriya is somewhat sloppy with his kisses, but the way he sucks on your tongue and grinds his cock into you is heavenly.

Fingers skimming over the swell of his pecs and the rigid lines of his abs, Doctor Midoriya shudders at your fluttering touch. You swallow his moan as your hands drift under the shirt of his scrubs, heated skin and a fine trail of hair greeting your fingertips.

Pulling away, Doctor Midoriya pants heavily as you continue to pet his lower abdomen, his cock twitching beneath you. “Wait, wait,” he breathes, hands inching around towards your front, “can we – Can we touch each other?”

“As long as you keep quiet,” you murmur, tongue flicking across your lower lip. “Don’t want the others to know that Doctor Midoriya is a bad boy, hmm?” At that, a high-pitched groan emits from his chest as you shove your hand under the band of his underwear, hand circling around the base of his cock.

“Fuck, puppy, that feels good…”

Quickly following your lead, he slips a hand into your undies; his strong fingers immediately seek out the sensitive spot of your sex, causing your back to arch into his touch. A low, drawn out curse seeps from your mouth as you feel your arousal starting to coat his fingers.

“I guess being a doctor has its benefits, huh?” Doctor Midoriya mutters, tone dropping into that husky pitch once more. Even more of your arousal practically gushes over his fingers, your insides tightening around nothing. Two can play at this game, dammit.

Soon, the two of you are heavily petting each other, wrists flicking and fingers digging into sensitive flesh perfectly. Both your ears and tail lay flat as you pant into his neck, your thighs beginning to quiver with want. Doctor Midoriya isn’t fairing any better, his cock weeping precum as he mumbles incoherently. Maybe it’s the enticing little pants breaking through his puffy lips, or maybe it’s the sinful schlick schlick of your hand around his fat cock, but fuck do you want him inside of you, fucking you stupid.

“Doctor,” you purr, pushing yourself up onto your knees. “Have I been a good puppy? Will you fuck me with your cock and make me yours?” You nearly smile as he twitches in your hand at your filthy words.

Feebly nodding, Doctor Midoriya reluctantly pulls his hands away from you, opting to yank down his bottoms and underwear so they’re stretched around his meaty thighs instead. Your mouth practically waters at the sight of his cock – darker than the rest of his skin and veiny like his hands, he’s just as big as you expected, maybe even bigger. Still, you hastily yank down your own offensive clothing and slip back onto his lap, hovering over his twitching cock.

Doctor Midoriya thickly swallows. “I’m… I’m clean. You don’t have to worry- Fuck, oh my god!” Slapping a hand over his mouth, he groans deeply as you sheathe yourself on him, eyes nearly rolling towards the back of your head at the stretch. Yeah, he’s definitely huge.

For a moment, you allow yourself to grow used to the feeling of him inside. This is really happening; all caution is being thrown to the wind, repercussions be damned. He’s finally in your grasp, and you don’t plan on letting him go any time soon. “You said you wanted to fuck me, Doctor,” you mutter into his ear, your hips beginning to swivel. “Do it like you mean it.”

Again, that determined expression crosses his features. “With a challenge like that, who I am to decline?” Adjusting his grip on your ass, he easily lifts you up and drops you back on his cock, eliciting a breathy moan to fall from your swollen lips. “Don’t worry, puppy – as your doctor, I’m going to take real good care of you…"

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha x reader #bnha x reader #midoriya x reader #deku x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku #izuku midoriya #mha midoriya #bnha midoriya

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seventfics · 3 years

Photo

Autumn Birds

Written for @witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo

Prompt: We fell in love, but your previous lover reappeared/returned Relationships: Eskel/Jaskier (w/ past!Geralt/Eskel and past!Geralt/Jaskier) Rating: T Content Warnings: None Summary: They’d met just as the leaves were turning yellow.

Read on AO3

* * *

They’d met just as the leaves were turning yellow.

Jaskier had heard of a witcher staying in town and, as was his prerogative since his acquaintance with a certain White Wolf, he’d ventured to see what the man was all about. It was not so often one got to meet someone of their caste. Why not have a little courage to break the ice himself?

The whispers spoke of a witcher with a terribly scarred face. Two swords strapped over his back, their pommels shaped into wolf heads. The women said he had a voice like a dog’s growl, so grave that when he spoke, it made children cry.

He thought that last bit was rather mean, and followed the trail of curses into a grimy tavern where a fight was about to break out.

“You promised fifty.”

“The best I can do is half.”

Jaskier’s hand freezes on the door. Whatever he’s come to doesn’t look good. The witcher’s back is to him, his padded shoulders raised with tension. The village’s alderman paces in front of him, fuming over a contract’s fee. There’s a few antsy people in the crowd too. The anger written on their faces makes him nervous.

He’s seen how this ends a dozen times. It’s gotten his own arse kicked butting into the middle of a witcher’s bargaining, actually.

“Now, now, gentlemen,” Jaskier interjects boisterously from the doorframe anyway. “This is no mood for drink and cheer. Calm your spirits with a little of the former—”

The alderman grumbles under his breath about merry idiots meddling in what they shouldn’t. “Shut up, bard. This here’s serious business. And I’m not about to be robbed by a witcher’s ridiculous high prize.”

“It’s not ridiculous. The contract says fifty, and,” the witcher stops to lift the bloody stump of a water hag’s head, “it’s already done.”

“That contract was up weeks ago. The reward’s gone down. You’re lucky half’s on the table at all.”

The witcher grunts—a familiar sound to Jaskier’s ears which translates to wordless annoyance—and drops the head on the floor. “You’re lucky the hag didn’t move closer into the village in that time.”

“Is that a threat?”

At the rising outrage in his tone, Jaskier slips closer to stare at the alderman over the witcher’s swordless shoulder. “Ah, I believe the witcher means more of your people would have died, had he not taken care of the problem so promptly. The reward hardly sounds like an unreasonable amount. I could get twice as much on a profitable eve of singing. In fact,” he flips to the witcher, who does not yet deign to look back at his unforeseen defender, “I could turn this place around and earn us both a decent share in one night. I’m no fop on the job!”

It’s then that the witcher looks towards him, but the bard only manages a quick glimpse of an incredulous set of eyebrows before the alderman starts shouting.

“Get out! Both of you! Out of my town or I’ll have the dogs chase you out!”

They both take that as their leave, Jaskier with a bit more speed in his jog.

At the outskirts the witcher turns fully, and at the sight of his whole face Jaskier almost gasps out loud. A long scar runs through his cheek, from eyebrow to jaw, and over his lips. It puckers the skin all around it, disfiguring half of his face.

Whatever caused that scar must have hurt a lot.

The witcher shifts in place, quiet for a long second as Jaskier does his best to hide his nerves. “I’m sorry to have involved you.”

“Oh, please, don’t be. I involved myself. Jaskier’s the name, by the way,” he introduces himself, hand extended in greeting.

The witcher scratches the back of his head. His lips twist to one side, bashful. One of his teeth peeks through the scarred tissue over his mouth. “Uh. Eskel.” He takes the offered hand and shakes it.

It’s the firmest handshake Jaskier has ever received.

“Well, Eskel. Are you short on coin? Because so am I.”

The snort he gets is—soft. Not at all like the gruff from before, with the alderman.

“I’m not doing too bad, I’d say. Just currently fifty short of what I expected to have at the end of the day.”

"How about I help with that? I wasn't lying when I said I could earn both a decent share, given the right crowd."

It's the sunset hour, and the leaves were falling on top of them. Everything is gold. The sky, the trees. Eskel’s eyes when they blink at him and he breaks into a genuine laugh.

Jaskier knows he’s a romantic. His heart flutters every odd day over strangers with pretty smiles. He’s just never seen such a shy, sweet smile on someone with such an intimidating facade.

Making him smile again became a personal quest.

* * *

At the next town over, Eskel speaks to the alderman there. This one is more reasonable at least, and up front about the sort of beast that lurks in the northern farms. Which brings up a whole new conversation as Jaskier doesn’t part from Eskel’s side despite the obvious danger.

Eskel grunts and sits him down, not unlike the times Geralt tried—and failed—to convince him to stay put. Jaskier just blinks his pretty blue eyes and says, “and how will I write a song of your prowess in battle if I am not there to witness it?”

“This is a dangerous contract, bard. It would be best if you let me handle it alone.”

“Oh no. No, no, I’ve heard that before a dozen times.”

Eskel pauses at that. “What?”

“I am perfectly capable of staying out of your way.”

The wyvern they encounter says otherwise.

To be fair, he had done a good job of staying out of the witcher’s way for most of the fight. It is only when the beast slams its tail into Eskel’s side on a backswing that Jaskier shouts in worry from his hiding place and brings undue attention to himself.

Wind whips around him for a split second, scattering dust into his eyes. It takes a moment to wipe them clean so of course he doesn’t see the great shadow flying at him. Doesn't realize the immediate need to hide or flee for his life until a giant claw snatches him by the bunched fabric on his back.

Jaskier's stomach plummets as he soars up. The ground recedes. His clothes start to rip. This is it, he panic-screams in his mind, this is his final day. Either as monster food or a blood splatter on a rock, his time has come.

A severe overreaction, and his own mistake for not trusting in a witcher's skill. He doesn't realize it in all, what with all his flailing about, but Eskel fires a crossbow bolt perfectly at the wyvern’s eye.

The beast screeches terribly loud in his ears. It flaps its wings once, twice, before twisting midair and letting him go.

They both fall, but Eskel catches him.

By the silence that follows after an earth-shaking crunch, he knows the witcher's won. Victory is not immediately on his mind, though. The way his sight spins and the sun paints a halo behind Eskel's hair, Jaskier dumbly thinks, oh—I've quite literally fallen in love.

“See?” he says instead, breathless with terror at almost having died, “I’m perfectly fine.”

Eskel raises a thick brow at him. And he's smiling too, the bard thinks. Could just be the scar making it look like a lopsided smile, but he wants to believe that he's made the witcher smile again with his foolish sense of humor.

“Are you alright? The tail,” Jaskier frets once his vision settles. Some of these monsters have poisoned stingers on the end of their tails. Are wyverns one of them?

But Eskel waves him down before he can consider the worst. “Relax. I cast Quen in time.”

“That’s a, uh, magic shield, right?”

Surprise colors Eskel's features. So it seems he's right. A point of pride on Jaskier's belt for remembering witcher signs.

Getting proof of a contract well done takes the witcher a good minute to collect. Wyvern skin is tough. The head would normally satisfy as proof, but it's too heavy to be lugging around town. He will have to make do with the wing tips. Should they question him, the remains aren't going anywhere.

“Come on, bard. Time to get our day's work done. And after that, we're going west.”

“'We'?” Something about the proclamation has his heart beating fast.

“'Course. I'm not letting you out of my sight now.”

He makes a show of bowing dramatically. “I wouldn’t want to be elsewhere.”

* * *

“You’re a friend of Geralt’s.”

Jaskier looks up from his notes.

Traveling with someone is always interesting—with a witcher even more so. So far he's learned that Eskel has far more routines than Geralt ever did, like counting his coin at the end of every week, and making sure he has two of every potion ready.

Jaskier quirks a half-smile. “I am. How did you figure? I never said his name.”

“Your song.” He points to the scribbled mess on his lap. “Or, I guess your work in progress. I see an expression he uses a lot, that he learned from me.”

“Oh?”

Eskel sits by him and nods, as if finally understanding Jaskier’s odd ease partnering with a witcher, and starts the story of where the expression in his handwriting originated from.

It’s funny at first, imagining a much younger, somehow more foolish Geralt together with this huge, frightening man who is not frightening at all to talk to. Eskel speaks so softly, so tenderhearted about the old memory—two boys, witchers-to-be, practically joined at the hip, making crude jokes. So he reciprocates with a tale of where he comes from, as destiny deigned to put them in each other’s paths.

As it happens, a lot of their first stories aren’t even their own, but Geralt’s.

And Eskel has many more over his. He’s more than happy to share them over camp.

Some of it leaves Jaskier’s throat aching. This is someone who clearly cares about his big grumpy friend. It's someone he can understand.

Then Eskel claps a bare hand on his back, his thumb and forefinger a hot press just under his nape, and oh, he’s more than a little foolishly in love actually, as his head is emptied of all reason at the small touch.

“Am I to become your travel bard,” Jaskier quips with an airy giggle. “I’m excellent entertainment at parties.”

“Not for long. It’s almost winter. Soon I’ll have to head north to meet my brothers.”

His heart sinks. “Oh.”

Eskel squeezes his shoulder with careful strength. “You better keep out of trouble while I’m gone, you hear?”

“Of course. I don’t go looking for trouble.”

“No, trouble just finds you.”

Well, if ‘trouble’ is a scarred, smirking witcher, he sure hopes that to be true.

* * *

They meet again when the trees are just beginning to color with spring blooms.

There is also a griffin tearing through the town's cattle, but that’s besides the point. Easily dealt with. Which is good, seeing as Jaskier had been near the scene and probably next on the menu. No one had told him about the griffin, so really. He's just as surprised to find Eskel as he is about the beast.

“You alright, bard?”

“I am now.”

Matter resolved, Jaskier walks in step next to Eskel. The town opens before them, welcoming the witcher not with smiles, but grudging gratitude.

“You sure? Trouble didn’t come knocking while I was gone?”

“Only a man with a lover’s grudge come to kick my ass out of a wonderfully luxurious establishment. Didn’t even get to enjoy the hot bath I paid for, which is such a terrible waste of hot water.”

A deep hum comes out of the witcher. “A lover’s grudge?”

“Just a past dalliance that won’t forget me.”

Eskel stops and shifts on his feet, like he wants to say something but he doesn’t know how to start.

Oh, witchers and their awkward conversation skills.

“You know what, I’m starving. I think a good, hearty meal is owed between us. What do you say we go collect your reward and we break fast at the alderman’s recommendation?”

“We don’t have to get the coin right now. I could go for some food.”

“First tavern we see then. Come on.”

Right as he says it, he wraps his arm around Eskel’s, and maybe he’s just being too obvious, too hopeful, but Eskel doesn’t shrug him off. They make their way to a large and welcoming tavern, him talking his head off about the barn smell that permeates the whole town and ignoring the dark looks people give them down the street, as Eskel listens, not a word coming from his mouth. It worries Jaskier a minute that he’s becoming more annoyance than the teasing meddler he wants to be. But Eskel is just scratching his chin, looking down and letting Jaskier lead.

When it becomes clear that Eskel doesn’t have any rented lodgings yet, Jaskier offers his own. “I’m sure the innkeeper won’t mind us bunking if we pay for two, at the end of our stay.”

Eskel doesn't say no. He also doesn't say yes. It takes them finally being settled in a table of their own, full of fruits, cheese and bread, neither of them taking the first bite to eat, for Jaskier to nervously ask, “What is it?”

“Nothing,” comes the too-quick response.

“If I overstepped in some way, please tell me.”

“It’s nothing like that, I—uh.” Eskel shakes his head, his expression scrunched up unpleasantly.

“Whatever it is, I won’t be offended.”

He's already writing a million apologies in his head for any of his imagined offenses, that he's not quite prepared for what Eskel says instead.

“You are...different from what I expected.”

Jaskier blinks. “How so?”

“I don’t know. You’re just. Human. You’re normal.” He makes a point of gesturing at the table, the people keeping their distance. “I don’t get why you do all this for me.”

It's slow-creeping, but once the pieces align, Jaskier starts to understand what he means. That confusion, he’s known it with Geralt. Why do you stick with me? What does a witcher have to offer a human that isn’t the service of a silver sword? What does a human want with a mutant when there are plenty of other ordinary, uncomplicated folk in the world to have for company?

“Because you’re a good man,” he tells the witcher gently. “Because you saved my life and I want to repay you in kind. Most reasonably of all, because we’re friends, and friends take care of each other.”

Of course there’s more to it than that, but if a friend is all Eskel wants, then a friend he shall be.

The rumble of the tavern fills the air as Eskel stares at him a little wide-eyed. Jaskier gives him a slight smile. As a close, he pushes the platter of cheese forward with an encouraging, “now eat your fill, my friend.”

Once Eskel returns his smile, he thinks that, well, that everything will turn out alright.

And they’re happy eating their food when Geralt shows up for the griffin that’s already dead.

At his distinct silhouette, Eskel stands up. “White Wolf.”

“Eskel,” Geralt calls back gravely.

They clasp arms and pat each other’s shoulders in sync. It might not seem like much to outsiders, but what a rare sight to behold—two witchers, two mirrored grins on both their faces.

Eskel is the first to part from the hug with a chiding, “You didn’t come for winter.”

“I know. I had a lot going on. Saw your handiwork hooked to your horse’s saddle.” Then he looks down, and spots Eskel's table company. “Jaskier?”

“Geralt.”

Their held eye-contact feels longer than it is. Looking away, Jaskier half expects the whole tavern to be staring at them, but as it turns out, no one cares to pay the witchers and their odd bard any attention now that the monster's been dealt with. It's just him, imagining his heart hanging out of his sleeve for everyone to judge.

And maybe Eskel senses something's up between them, because he leaves them with the excuse to collect his coin.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” Jaskier says after Geralt takes Eskel's abandoned seat. “Have you really been so busy that you couldn’t let your friends know you were alive?”

Geralt's silence is its own answer—a little shame, a little remorse. He remembers how Eskel had said that as time went on, Geralt just, lost touch. There had been something heavy in Eskel’s eyes when he said it, and Jaskier had felt it in his soul. Now he understands why. Him and Eskel, they'd both gone through the same impossible task of loving someone who doesn’t believe he can be loved.

By gods, he still loves Geralt, but Geralt's heart is a rusty cage, and neither of them can coax the old bird that lives in it anymore. Soft words and gentle promises have run their course.

“So,” the witcher starts, “you and Eskel? Didn't know you knew each other.”

“Maybe if you’d met either of us during winter you would have heard.” The phrasing's rough, but there's no resentment in his voice. He would have liked to know that Geralt had been safe in his wintering home, with Eskel.

“Yeah. I’m...surprised.” Jaskier raises his brow at him. Which just earns a quick shake of Geralt’s head. “He doesn’t make friends easily.”

“Neither do you, and yet look at us.”

“Look at us,” he echoes, staring at the empty plates.

“We missed a lot of opportunities together, didn’t we?” It doesn't make the truth any easier to swallow, but acknowledging the what-could-have-beens has always made him feel better afterward. Like closing a book, and getting ready to open a new one. He hopes Geralt knows that there's no bridges destroyed between them. Only those missed moments.

He still very much cares for Geralt, and he knows that Geralt does as well. They just have to come to terms with what's over—and what might come next.

“I won’t lie to you,” Jaskier adds more seriously. “I don’t want to miss any opportunities with him.”

The 'him' in question is unmistakable. Geralt nods. He looks down, one end of his mouth drawing up to dimple his cheek.

He says, like an olive branch offering, “His favorite flower is yarrow. Not because they’re pretty, but because they’re useful in the most surprising ways.”

* * *

They spend the day catching up, all three of them, before Geralt is on the road again, taking his own path. Jaskier sees how it brightens Eskel’s spirits to have seen him off, and cheers up twofold.

“I’ve known him practically my whole life,” Eskel tells him.

“I’ve known him half of mine.”

“So you understand.”

“That he’s a prat? Oh yes. Good at heart, backwards about verbalizing it. Cheeky when he wants to be. Oh by the way, here.”

From out of his little travel bag, Jaskier pulls a swathe of yarrows.

“Saw some at market street,” he explains, presenting them. “Thought you might find use in them for your potions.”

Eskel turns to him, his bright witcher eyes bouncing between him and the yarrows. Jaskier feels his heart climb up his throat, wondering what runs through Eskel's mind that makes him pause for so long.

Then Eskel takes them with one hand and with the other, he touches Jaskier’s face. It's big, warm, calloused against his skin. And sudden.

“‘Cheeky when he wants to be’, right?”

Jaskier stutters to say, “Well, yes, I mean, but this isn’t about him—”

He forgets how to speak after Eskel kisses him. It’s the lightest peck on the corner of his lips, so light that once he draws back, he wonders if he's not still dreaming back in their rented room.

“Thank you. I know just what to use them for.”

The yarrow gets tucked away with the other herbs in Eskel's saddlebag. A few glasses clink together as he moves things around so they don’t get crushed. And then, as Jaskier stands there, stupefied and slack-jawed, Eskel mounts his steed, a soot-black beauty that neighs softly at Jaskier’s face.

“Where are you headed for now?”

“Nowhere. Anywhere.” Wherever you’ll go, he thinks to himself. Wherever you'll have me.

Eskel grins wide at him, and it's the most beautiful sight, his smile, with all his teeth gleaming.

“That sounds like trouble.”

#jaskel #jaskier x eskel #rarepair summer bingo #myfics #tt

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x0401x · 4 years

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Violet Evergarden Movie Summary

The initial plan was to make this a short bullet-point thing, but I felt like there was too much to clarify and I had no choice but use novel references to explain certain parts, so I decided to just write a normal summary. Many thanks before-hand to my friend Yuuki, who gave me all this info.

Apologies for taking relatively long with this thing. Not even I expected that I would end up writing this much. Buckle up for the ride, ‘cause it won’t be fun.

Nope, not kidding. It really won’t.

First thing I need to make clear is: this movie is one and a half hour long and divided into three parts and two different timelines: the times when Violet existed and the times after she dies. Already in the beginning of the movie, Violet is dead.

Yes, you read this right. She’s dead.

Now, I don’t mean that she’s dead in the literal sense. This is 60 years in the future. She might be alive or not, but it’s never said. However, the timeline of 60 years later is considered an era without Violet, apparently because she has retired and her “legend” is over, so to say. It’s also a time where Auto-Memories Dolls don’t exist. That’s one good punch in the face. Let’s keep counting.

The movie is sort of like a tale being read by someone else, which at some point goes into Violet’s first-person POV. The whole thing is kind of a look back on Violet’s life tragectory and how it took a new turn when she decided to continue looking for Gil despite all the mess of the TV series.

The era where Violet exists is an era where telephones are being introduced to the people, so Auto-Memories Dolls are starting to become unnecessary. I would argue that the creation of the telephone isn’t enough for an entire occupation to start disappearing so quickly, since new inventions are normally extremely expensive and not everyone has access to them (or even knows about their existence) so immediately after their conception. Realistically speaking, ghostwriters would still be important as long as there were still so many people unable to buy phones. Not to mention that this is a steampunk world where compulsory education doesn’t seem to be a thing yet, so even in the off chance that everybody can buy a phone, there would still be a lot of people who can’t read or write on their own. But all of this clearly went over the animators’ heads, so not only ghostwriters but also the mail business in general are nearing their doom in the movie.

The one looking back on Violet’s life was Ann, who was telling it all to her granddaughter, Daisy (who, by the way, is voiced by Morohoshi Sumire, the same girl who voiced the seven-year-old Ann). Ann had kept all the letters that Violet ghostwrote for her mother, as well as the newspapers about the CH Postal Company. Looks like the article was printed after Violet left CH, since she isn’t in the picture with everyone else.

In this era, CH’s main office has been turned into a museum. Nerine is shown working in it. Of course, she’s a grandma by then. Speaking of the CH personnel, Erica also quit being an Auto-Memories Doll and became a playwright like Oscar. She appears in the newspaper, though, so she probably a while left after Violet did. Taylor also appears there.

Back to Daisy, she was writing a letter to her parents, in order to learn how to properly convey feelings with written word. The message of this scene seems to be that, no matter the tools, what’s important is that we convey our feelings to the people we love.

As we see in the trailer, Gil’s mom has passed and Violet runs into Dietfried when visiting her grave on the anniversary of her death. To anyone who is wondering: yeah, Gil never went to see his mother and she died thinking that he was dead.

Nobody knew that Gil was alive. Not his mother, not Dietfried, not the Evergardens and not even Hodgins. No one.

Here’s what happened to Gil in the anime: he survived the incident at Intense, of course, but got separated from Violet in that explosion. His tag miraculously stayed on the same spot, though, as we saw in the TV series. Now, since this isn’t explained in the anime at all, I have to make it clear: the tag is that necklace the soldiers wear. It contains their names and ranks, so that their bodies can be identified even when they’re irrecognizable. Without the tag, the people who rescued Gil had no idea who he was, so he was sent to a different place to get treated. He ended up at a monastery hospital instead of the one in Enchaîné. I would debate that his uniform alone is enough to identify him as someone from the Leidenschaftlich Army, or maybe they could’ve just asked him which troop he belonged to after he woke up and relocated him to where his fellow men were, but who even cares about all these plot holes anymore? Definitely not me.

Anyway. After Gil was discharged, he ran the fuck away. Like, literally.

If anyone out there was hoping that Gil would finally have his moment to shine as the self-sacrificing, thoughtful and ridiculously kindhearted character that he is in the novel, I have bad news for you. What we had here was even worse than it being Gil’s excuse movie. It’s like the whole thing was made to drag his character so deep through the mud that he’ll never be able to get up again. There’s pretty much nothing in this one and a half hour that actually justifies what he did to Violet. I’ll elaborate on this as we go on.

Anime!Gil became a nomad and went traveling. He offed his ass to the island where that lighthouse displayed in the most recent official art is located (that’s why Gil and Violet were at the beach on the movie poster). He doesn’t have a prosthetic in the anime because, apparently, he was more worried about disappearing as fast as possible to somewhere he would never be found, and never attempted to contact anybody. So nobody knew that he was alive, hence the grave, which, as we feared, was not a fake one. His family really did think he had died.

This is a point that I have already addressed before, but that also means Gil really did abandon Violet to luck. If anything dangerous ever happened to her (as it did, and it was always very obviously likely to happen, since she was the southern army’s most outstanding soldier and quite literally fled from the military), he wouldn’t even know. If word ever got to him, it would probably be too late. And even if it weren’t, he wouldn’t be able to do anything to help her. More than allowing her to live freely, it felt like he was running away from his responsibilities regarding Violet.

Punch on the face count is currently at six.

By sheer coincidence, Violet learns that Gil is living in that island. She goes to see him and Hodgins goes with her after trying to stop her at first. When Gil finds out that they came to see him, he outright refuses to meet them. It pretty much takes the near entirety of the goddamn movie for them to see each other face-to-face. I say face-to-face because all of the following shit happens:

Hodgins goes to talk to Gil. It lasts about 20 minutes.

Gil talks to Violet from behind a door. This one is about 10 minutes.

Dietfried also comes to the island to talk to him. Also about 10 minutes.

At long fucking last, Gil goes to see Violet. But that, too, is only for about 10 minutes.

Hodgins gives him a speech very similar to what happens in chapter 8. Now get ready to fall back from your seats: Dietfried basically goes there to tell Gil that he won’t run away from taking over the family anymore, so Gil can live freely. Yes, Dietfried is officially a better Gilbert than Gilbert himself. I crave death.

So, after much ado, they come to a conclusion: Gil will stay in the island. In order to completely free himself of the shackles of his bloodline, he stays behind, living the way he wants to. ‘Cause all anime!Gil wants is to rot away alone by the sea, apparently. Now prepare yourselves, for it gets worse. Ready?

Violet stays with him in the motherfucking island.

That’s right, ladies and gents. Another fear became true. She quits her job at the CH Postal Company and goes to live with him. Well, at least, not as a housewife. She starts working with mail services in the island, and Gil helps her with it. Her life goes on like this and she dies in the island as well.

This is where the timeline after Violet passes away comes into light, parallel to the era when Violet was alive. Daisy talks about what happened after Violet left CH, as if it were a tale from the distant past.

That’s it.

The movie paints this as a happy ending. I can hardly see it as one. I know it almost looks like everything was solved, but it just got swept under the rug.

The main point that makes me sad in this ending is that Violet’s character development did a 360 degree flip. In the end, she threw everything to the air and went to live in someone who she always put before everyone else, even herself, but who didn’t do the same for her (in the anime). She’s gone to a crammed little island, where she led an uneventful life away from everyone and everything that’s ever had a positive impact on her. All she has is Gil.

Of course, he’s all she needs, but he isn’t all she should have, and that was the entire point of pushing her to go live on her own. Which is exactly what she earns in the novel: two loving parents, a father figure, a brother figure, a best friend and several other friends and acquaintances whom she formed a bond with. She has all she needs, so she doesn’t have to cling to Gil for any reason. There’s no emotional dependance on him anymore. She doesn’t need him to be whole. She just wants him because he happens to be the best person she’s ever met.

Anime!Violet is most definitely not whole. She almost got there, but then she backtracked completely. And anime!Gil... in my friend’s words, is a weakling. There’s nothing in him actually worth all this undying blind love. Sure, he’s full of regret and shit, but it’s too easy to only act upon it now, by vanishing into thin air like a coward.

The deal with novel!Gil is that he looks around at everything he has, everything that had been burdening him and killing him on the inside all his life, and decides to make use of it for Violet’s sake. He continues being family head and working in the army, amassing money and connections in order to have every means possible to protect Violet should anything happen to her. And as it turns out, he does end up having to use those means, more than once, but he will keep this up for as long as he needs to, because he lives for her now. That’s what makes him worth all the blood, sweat, tears, mental sanity and even body parts that she gave away for his sake: he pays it back. Every cent.

Punch in the face count ends at twelve. Thirteen if I include the fact that the movie ends with a last shot of Violet after she and Gilbert do a pinky swear. Looks like they were really trying to buy everyone with tears.

Oh, well.

I hope this has been a good enough summary. Sorry if I rained on anyone’s parade. I’m pretty sure we won’t get a remake ever, so I really wish we all can get over this soon.

#violet evergarden #fyeahvioletevergarden #kyoani #kyoto animation #violet evergarden movie #summary #gilbert bougainvillea #claudia hodgins #dietfried bougainvillea

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rejectofsociety · 3 years

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Summary: While drunk at a party, MJ decides to play a little “game” with Peter to see if he can guess who she’s head-over-heals for.

Rated: T

Warnings: Drinking, Cursing, I was tired when I wrote this

Word Count: 2,040

Written for @spideychelleweek with the prompts “drunk and first kiss”