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#grown man and he should be able to choose where he works. like is that not a little bit insane. i get it but also….. i do think it s kind of

nczennie · 1 year

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royal icing.

Pairing: Reader x Ateez’s Wooyoung AU: Royalty Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut (18+ scene) Preview: "I am a Prince you're speaking to, you know" he states as you get back to your work. "That may be, but you are not my Prince". You reply, and Wooyoung wastes no time with his answer, "But I could've been your King". Words: 10.1k a/n: This is a spin off of Royal Library, can be read alone but you would have more background knowledge if you read it first. *Warnings under cut

Warnings: Minor mentions of sickness (not any of the main characters), Wooyoung is inexperienced and shy, There is only one small smut scene (only dry humping tbh).

Wooyoung is a Prince. He was born a Prince of his Kingdom, Twilight, and has grown up having every aspect of his life planned for him. What to eat, what to study, what to say to guests, who to marry. You name it, and Wooyoung was positive he didn't have a say in any decision. Not that he ever complained, he grew up knowing that was the price of being Royal.

He never regretted it either, well, that is up until now.

It's been nearly a year since everything in Wooyoung's life was flipped upside down. It was Winter when he came to the Kingdom of Aurora, expecting to marry their Princess and eventually become their King. This was the future that was planned for him since he was born. So when the time came to make the journey across the sea, he did not hesitate. He came to Aurora with a smile, meeting the Royal family, the new locals, learning what he could about the new culture. He was to be their King and he wanted to be a good one.

He was arranged to marry the second Princess of Aurora only months after he was born. He grew up knowing he would have to love this stranger and spend his life with her. Sure, when he arrived he didn't completely fall in love with her, but he knew the reality of their situation. He knew he would have to try his best to love her for the rest of their lives. They were to marry and rule the Kingdom together, start a family together. So he didn't think too much about it.

That is until the Princess went and fell in love with his advisor.

His advisor, Seonghwa, started working for him once he came of age. But more than advisor, Seonghwa was his best friend. He cared for him more than anyone else in the world. That's why when he found out about their secret relationship, he did everything he could to make sure they would be able to stay together.

And it worked. However, that left Wooyoung with a bigger predicament of his own. How could he be King if he had no Princess to marry?

The first couple of months when Seonghwa and the Princess left Aurora, no one knew any better, not even her family. But eventually the truth had to come out. The King and Queen and youngest Princess Rose, were sent to visit the Princess where she lived with Seonghwa in a quiet village inland. They were furious when they found her pregnant and married to the man who was once the Prince's advisor. They went through waves of disbelief, demanding her to return to her kingdom and marry Wooyoung, yelling at all the trouble she has caused, crying about how she lied and kept such a huge secret from them. Her family eventually came around, wanting to be apart of their grandchild's life, even in secret.

After much discussion they needed to decide what to do about the fate of the kingdom. They kept the Princess' whereabouts a secret from everyone, even the closest circles of the family. As far as anyone knew, her health became too poor for her to be in line for the throne and she would live out the rest of her life away from Aurora. It was announced Rose instead would be the next Queen of Aurora.

As the youngest of the Princesses of Aurora, Rose had never been arranged to marry. So came the obvious question, should she marry Prince Wooyoung in place of her sister? It looked like a heavy possibility, but the more they talked about the idea it was no longer an option. Rose would get to choose who she would marry, whenever she was ready.

But what about Prince Wooyoung? He had come over to this kingdom ready to be King and now that was no longer in his future. Was he to go back to Twilight? He was not in line to their throne as he has an older brother who was already married with an hier on the way. Plus his parents threatened Aurora with the loss of their alliance. Their son was promised to be King and now they were taking that from him? Aurora relied heavily on their alliance with Twilight for their lumber so they couldn't risk losing their trade or gaining an enemy. Therefore. they kept their discussions going. Prince Wooyoung was no longer going to be King, but instead, he was given a powerful position on the Royal council. This seemed enough for his parents as they agreed to the terms and kept the alliance in place.

For Wooyoung on the other hand, he felt more confused than ever. He was a Prince, he was used to having everything planned out for him. But now those plans have changed and he feels more lost than ever.

It was nearing autumn in Aurora but Wooyoung could still feel the sweat running down his back as he walked through town. The afternoon sun beat down on him as he made his way down the cobblestone streets, making sure to greet everyone along the way. He was making his way to the famous bakery whom the castle used to order baked goods for their events. The annual Autumn festival was approaching and the castle was in full swing preparing for the event. From his spot on the Royal Council, Wooyoung was now a huge part of the preparations. That's why during lunch today he was heading to the bakery to ask if they were able to add on a couple more cakes before the festival this weekend.

Wooyoung had never been to this bakery before but he was already impressed by the scenery alone. After walking up the many stairs to the building, he sees the outside seating area that looks over the blue water. Being elevated on the hill allows for a scenic view in all directions, blue ocean as far as one could see. He takes a deep breath and enjoys the the sea breeze for a second more before turning towards front of the building. His entrance is announced with a chime of the door and a middle-aged women greets him, "Hello, welcome-oh! Prince Wooyoung, welcome your highness". She smiles excitedly as she bows, wiping her flour covered hands on her apron. Wooyoung smiles back at her, "Hello, nice to meet you. You're the owner of this amazing bakery I assume?" She looks a little flustered at the compliment but nods, "Yes, your highness. I own it with my family. My husband and I work on the baking while our kids work on running the store".

He compliments her once more before relaying the messages about the extra cakes, she agrees and promises they will be even better than expected. She tells him she has to return to the kitchen in the back but suggests he stays and enjoys a treat since he walked all this way; on the house.

Wooyoung agrees, the smell from inside the bakery was alone making his mouth water so he couldn't refuse. After saying goodbye he walks up to the counter to order, a young man bowing his head as he greets him, "Your highness, welcome. What can I get you?". He scans a menu ordering some tea before humming as he thinks, "What would you recommend to go along with the tea?" The young man gives a charming smile, "I would personally recommend one of our sourdough baguettes, we have a new batch coming out of the oven soon if you have time to wait. But I know you must be busy, so we so have some croissants ready instead". The Prince nods, "I have no problems waiting, a baguette sounds delicious. Thank you.." he draws out and the young man smiles, "Yunho, my name is Yunho". Wooyoung smiles at him, "Nice to meet you Yunho, how much will it be?"

Per his mom's request, Yunho insists there's no cost at all, so Wooyoung slips the money secretly into the tip jar instead. "You can take a seat wherever you'd like and I'll bring it out as soon as it's ready".

Wooyoung thanks him once again before walking along the counter, looking at all the amazing treats in the display case. As he continues getting familiar with the small bakery, he notices a girl on the opposite end of the counter. As he walks closer to her he can see she must be decorating a cake. You pay no mind to him as he steps in front of you to take a look at your work. He blinks as he takes in the small cake, looking nothing like the stunning decorated desserts in the glass casing. Instead it's merely messily coated in white frosting as you cut fresh strawberries to place on top.

"It's kind of messy." Wooyoung speaks out before he can help himself. You stop your movements, putting the knife down to look up at him. You raise your eyebrows, "Excuse me?". Wooyoung lets out a small chuckle, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I just meant compared to the others," he pauses at the unamused look on your face, "I'm sure it's just your process". He finally ends.

"I'll have you know, this cake was requested by a very amazing young lady for her fifth birthday. She drew me a picture of her desired cake and I am merely bringing her image to life". You stand your ground causing a smile to appear on Wooyoung's face. "Well if that's the case, I'm sure it's delightful". You send a glare at him, "It is delightful. I don't know what you know about decorating cakes anyway".

Though the smiles stays on Wooyoung's face, he can't say he's used to people speaking to him in such a manner. "I am a Prince you're speaking to, you know" he states as you get back to your work. "That may be, but you are not my Prince". You reply, and Wooyoung wastes no time with his answer, "But I could've been your King".

You both turn in shock as your brother yells your name, having overheard the way you were speaking to the Prince. Wooyoung looks over at Yunho where he was preparing his tea, giving him a reassuring smile. "I may be a Prince but I can still banter," He teases them as Yunho starts to apologize for the actions of his sister. Wooyoung looks to you, but you are silent, avoiding his eyes as you focus on the strawberries. He chooses to head outside, finding a table in the shade where he can enjoy his treat with a view. He closes his eyes, feeling the breeze and listening to the sound of the ocean which he finds very relaxing. Wooyoung thinks he could've fallen asleep there, but when he hears someone clear their throat, he squints his eyes open.

You stand before him holding a tray, a small teapot and glass placed alongside a steaming baguette. He sits up straight as you start to place the items on the table in front of him. "It smells amazing thank you", he gives a charming smile but a smile barely graces your lips as you bow slightly. He starts to pour himself a glass of tea when he notices you haven't left. Looking up at your standing figure, Wooyoung watches as you let out a sigh before breaking the silence. "I wanted to apologize for my behavior inside, your highness, it was very inappropriate of me". Wooyoung finds himself smirking, figuring your brother must have made you come out here to make amends. "There is no need to worry, I was not offended if that's what you were afraid of". Wooyoung drops a cube of sugar into his cup as he speaks to you.

He can see you nodding but you speak again, "I-well thank you. But I am very sorry, I shouldn't have," you pause and he looks up at you where you seem to be pondering over your words. "It was wrong of me to bring that up, meaning the Princess of course".

The smile drops off Wooyoung's face as he comprehends what you were talking about. "Oh, it's quite alright. I promise you don't need to stress about it," he says your name softly. At least he assumes he has, merely recalling what Yunho called you inside. At this he watches as you perk up, bowing once again, "Thank you, your highness. Let me know if you need anything else". He watches as you make your way back inside.

Sighing he turns towards his meal, moving to tear a piece off of the steaming bread. He often forgets how the public perceives his broken off engagement. As far as they're concerned, Wooyoung is a heartbroken Prince who's loving financé was taken from him because of her illness. Although that is far from the case, he knows he has to act the part.

Wooyoung has completely fallen in love with the bakery on top of the hill. Since his first visit before the Autumn festival, he has been returning at least every other day. Trying some new tea and treat every visit. And of course speaking to the family who owns the place.

The Prince finds it enjoyable to have found some people around his age to talk to outside of the castle. You and your brother, Yunho, have quickly become what Wooyoung would like to consider as friends. He especially loves that you aren't afraid he is a Prince. Much like your first meeting, you aren't shy to talk back to him and tease him. He thinks it's a breath of fresh air to be treated normally by someone as if his title doesn't matter.

"Well, well, well," you call out to Wooyoung as he enters the bakery once again, "You just can't resist us can you?" You tease from where you were wiping down the counter. Wooyoung shrugs, "I can't help it, Yunho is just too handsome. I can't stay away".

You smirk at him, tilting your head, "That's a shame then cause I'm the only one in today. Yunho and my parents are off picking up groceries in the next town over". Wooyoung sighs in defeat, "On second thought, I better get back to the castle." He moves to turn around but smirks when he hears you whining behind him, "What's so wrong with me, huh?" Wooyoung laughs, turning back around and making his way to the counter, "You're no Yunho, but I guess you'll do". You roll your eyes at him, "Ever so charming, your highness". The Prince leans against the counter humming, "May I please get two blueberry muffins, to go?" He sees you frown, "To go? I guess I really am no Yunho," you move to wash your hands before preparing a box for him. This causes Wooyoung to laugh, "I have a meeting back at the castle, otherwise I would enjoy my muffin here".

He watches you nod before presenting his to go box to him and taking the money in exchange. "Wooyoung-" he looks up and notices you let out a small laugh, "Sorry, I mean your highness. I was wondering if you knew when your meeting would be done?" Wooyoung purses his lips as he thinks, "Not too long, not later than 2 I suppose". At his answer you give him a small smile, "I was wondering if maybe you would come back here around 4? We close then and I was hoping maybe you would want to walk me home?" Your voice trails off losing confidence by the second.

Wooyoung gives you a smile, "Of course, I can. I'll be here to make sure you get home safe". You smile back before nodding, "Thank you, I'll see you soon".

"So, you're just going to walk her home?" Wooyoung watches as the butler takes a bite of the muffin he brought for him. "Yeah, her family in not in town so I'm sure she's a bit nervous about making it home on her own". The man across from him hums, wiping his mouth, "You really think she's never had to do this before?" The Prince glares at the man, "What are you insinuating, Yeosang? You think I shouldn't go?"

The butler shakes his head, "No! I'm just saying maybe she just wants your company rather than your help". "Oh," Wooyoung simply states taking in Yeosang's opinion. "I mean is that such a bad thing?" The butler asks speaking up again, "With how often you've been going to this bakery, it can't just be for the food can it?"

The Prince shrugs as he thinks but Yeosang continues, "None of this is distressing, I'm just trying to ask if you perhaps like her? Are you attracted to her?" Wooyoung feels taken aback by the question. He doesn't think he's ever been asked that before, about anyone. "Well of course I'm attracted her her, she's beautiful I just," he pauses unsure of how to get his thoughts into words. Yeosang moves to place his hands on his shoulder, "Hey, you don't have to figure anything out, I was merely curious. Please, excuse me for asking". Wooyoung shakes his head, "You did nothing wrong, but I better get going to make it there in time". Yeosang nods, bowing at the Prince before taking his leave.

He takes his time walking back to the bakery, pondering over the words Yeosang was saying to him. Wooyoung knew for a fact he was attracted to you, but was it something more? His brain only hurt when he tried to figure it out. He can barely remember a time where he liked someone. Back in Twilight was he was young he liked an assistant in the kitchen but after being caught talking to them, he was warned to stay away as he was to be married eventually to a Princess. Since then he stayed clear of such feelings, knowing he would have to spend his life married to someone else. But now that concept is gone and he felt lost. He didn't know about these types of feelings as he was never allowed to have them, he honestly didn't know what to think, what to feel, what to do.

At this moment he wishes for nothing more than for Seonghwa to be here, he would know what to do. He would be able to help him.

After that evening, walking you home became some sort of a routine. If Wooyoung was free he would make his way to the bakery around closing time so he could walk you home just down the street. Even with your brother and parents there, usually staying to finish something up, he would come to meet you. He let himself enjoy your company without trying to think too hard. He had a good time with you, he knew that, laughing and teasing. Ignoring when you would walk closer to him, causing your arms to brush against each others.

That's much how it was this evening, your arm brushing against his as you told him about the dozens of chocolate strawberries you had to decorate today. He chuckles when you complain about the kink in your neck.

"The breeze has been so cold lately," You wrap your coat further around yourself. Wooyoung hums in agreement, "You can definitely tell that winter in coming". You nod, turning to open the gate to your yard, holding it open for the Prince to enter behind you. He walks you up to the door of the small house, standing on the path while you stand atop the first step, making you an even height with him.

When you smile at him, he returns it, noticing how nice you look in the golden light of the setting sun. "Thank you for walking me home," you say to him and he laughs. "I told you, you don't have to thank me every time". You shrug, "I'm just being polite to my Prince". "I thought I wasn't your Prince, hm?" He teases and you smile at him. "Maybe I've changed my mind," you say back, moving to fix a wrinkle in his collar. "I'll see you soon?" You ask and Wooyoung tries to ignore the way his heart pounds as your hand lingers on his shoulder. "Of course," he whispers out, looking into your eyes.

You give him a smile and his breath hitches when you lean down and press your lips into his. They only meet for a moment but the softness of them seemed ingrained in his brain. "Good evening, Wooyoung".

He watches with wide eyes as you make your way into your house. So nonchalant as if you didn't just steal a kiss from him. He groans as he turns to exit your yard and make his way back to the castle. You kissed him, you actually kissed him. Yet he feels more confused than ever.

"With winter approaching the mainland soon, it's best that we secure any of our trade handlings before the snow starts. That's why we want to send you to Twilight, to represent Aurora". The Queen of Aurora speaks to Prince Wooyoung over dinner with the rest of the Royal family. He had been apart of a council meeting earlier where many officials were organized to travel to different parts of the mainland to talk trade with different kingdoms.

He hadn't expected to be apart of it, but it made sense for him to travel to his home kingdom to do the negotiating. Plus he would get to see his family once again. "Of course, your majesty. It would be an honor," he states and the Queen gives him a smile of approval. "We apologize for asking so last minute, but the last boat trip towards Twilight in awhile will be in just a few days time and we need to have negotiations done as soon as possible". The King explains as he cuts the meat on his plate but Wooyoung only nods, "I do not mind, your majesty. I'll make sure to pack right away".

Later after they finished their meal, Wooyoung found himself walking to the third floor alongside Princess Rose talking about the trip. "You know, I was looking at a map of the mainland just the other day". The Prince nods at her before she continues, "I was curious about what was around Twilight, you know seeing as it was in a quite mountainous region". Wooyoung hums, keeping his eyes on the steps, "Yes, it's true. Twilight is mostly in mountains but down in the surrounding valley there are many other towns and kingdoms". He explains about his home. He sees Rose nod, "Yes, I noticed that. I also noticed there was a town called Utopia just down the river from their mountain." Wooyoung snaps his head at the mention of the familiar town but Rose gives him a pointed look, wary of the guards around them. "I hear they have amazing fruit orchards there," she simply states instead. The Prince gives her a smile, "That is true".

"You're leaving?"

Wooyoung watches the shocked look on your face as he told you about his trip back to Twilight. He realized he probably should've presented it better, as he hadn't seen you since you kissed him that night and now he's standing before you telling you he won't be around for awhile. "Since I'm part of the council I'm off to represent Aurora in trade negotiations. It shouldn't take too long, although I've never done it before so I'm not positive...a month at most". He chuckles but watches as your frown turns into a pout.

"Will you come to the bakery once you return?" You ask and he smiles at you, "Of course, I'll come right when I dock". You sigh, gaze moving to the side for a second before returning to look in his eyes. "Very well, I hope you have safe travels". Wooyoung smirks at you, "I'll be back before you know it". He watches as you nod, then move to step closer to him. He freezes, realizing you might want to hug or even kiss him again before he leaves. This causes his throat to tighten and eyes widen to panic. Before you can make another move, he steps back and puts his hands on your shoulder giving you a friendly pat, "Well, I'll be back in no time".

He turns to leave without a second thought, heart pounding in his chest as he makes his way down the steps from the bakery. "You fool," he mumbles to himself, hand running over his face as he recalls your interaction.

Negotiations with Twilight go more smoothly than he could've hoped for. Both representatives agreeing to terms that were advantagous for both kingdoms. With the trade settlements reached, he then got to enjoy time with his family. Eating meals with his parents, playing in the yard with his younger brother, the timing was perfect as he even got to be there for the birth of his nephew. Congratulating his older brother on his healthy baby.

With this relaxing time spent back in Twilight, he was ready to return to Aurora until the next time he visited. But not without another stop. He was able to convince his butler, Yeosang, and couple of guards to stop for the night in a town called Utopia before making the long journey back to the cost where they could sail to Aurora. They were able to find an inn during the early afternoon and he promised his entourage they could go off and explore the town for themselves. Of course they were hesitant but he promised everyone would meet back here at nightfall.

Thanks to a few letters he exchanged while in Twilight, he was able to follow the directions to the west side of the town. Walking along a quiet neighborhood before he found the house that matched the numbers on the paper in his hands. With a smile at the quant garden, he walks along the path to the door, gently knocking to announce his arrival.

"Wooyoung, I'm so glad to see you!"

Wooyoung can't help the smile that lights up his face as he pulls the man into a hug, "I can't believe it's been so long, I've missed you more than you can imagine, Seonghwa". Seonghwa pulls away from the hug, giving the Prince a smile, "It's been too long. I know it's difficult for both of us but I hope there is a way we can see each other more regularly in the future. Please, come inside. Lunch will be ready soon".

He looks around in wonder at the small house, it was cozy and beautiful but quite different from living in a castle. "So, what do you think?" He looks to see the Princess getting up from the couch in the living area, the Princess he was once supposed to marry. To even think of such a time where he was engaged to her seems like a lifetime ago. "It's lovely, you both have done amazing". He speaks and Seonghwa puts his arm around him, "C'mon, make yourself comfortable". He leads Wooyoung into the room, beckoning him to sit on a chair as he moves to sit besides the Princess on the couch.

Wooyoung lets his eyes wander around the room, stopping when he notices a small woven bassinet in the corner by the couch. "Would you like to meet her?" The Princess speaks, noticing his eyes. "Her?" Wooyoung asks. Given their situation they weren't able to keep in contact as much as they would have liked. Even the letters sent from the Princess to her family have no return address, and only talking about her baby in code, referring to her as a pet kitten. The Royal family only meeting her once when she was first born.

"Our daughter," Seonghwa speaks, motioning Wooyoung to follow him to where the small baby lay sleeping. As he approaches, Wooyoung lets out a sigh upon seeing the beautiful baby. Looking so much like Seonghwa already he found it crazy. "She's adorable," he can't stop the smile on his face as he reaches out to run his finger along her small fist. "We're so glad you finally get to meet her, it's because of you she's even here right now". Seonghwa smiles down at his daughter. "I would do anything for you guys" Wooyoung states unable to take his eyes off the angelic baby. "Her name is Wooyoung," Seonghwa speaks which causes the Prince's eyes to widen and look at his friend. "Surprised? Isn't that what you asked for?" The Princess chuckles as she moves to stand beside him.

"I was just joking!" He exclaims, still shocked this tiny human shared his name. "I thought it was a great idea," the Princess laughs, "This is all because of you Wooyoung. We wanted to name her after the person who is so important to us, to our story. We want her to know she's named after someone we both love dearly, someone selfless and strong."

Wooyoung swallows his emotion as his friends speak to him. Chest filled with adoration for this little girl he just met. He makes a promise to himself to always look out for her and protect her no matter how far away she is. He would do anything for her, just like he would for her parents.

A timer from a clock in the other room starts to ring, "Oh, lunch will be ready soon". The Princess speaks before making her way to the kitchen to stop the timer. Wooyoung still can't take his eyes off of the baby which causes Seonghwa to chuckle beside him. "You doing okay?" He asks putting a hand on his back. The Prince nods, "Yeah, I just miss you, a lot. Most of the time I feel like I still need you to tell me what to do". Seonghwa frowns, "I miss you too, but you don't need my guidance anymore Wooyoung. You're your own person, and you should make your own decisions. Prince or not". Wooyoung lets out a sigh, "I know, but I just feel so lost at the moment". His friends eyes wander across his face and Wooyoung speaks once more, "How did you know when you were in love?"

Seonghwa's eyes widen, "Oh, well... I found there was a point where my future no longer existed without her. It hurt to be away from her, I would do anything to make her happy, no matter what it cost me". He tries to put his feelings of love into words that would make sense. Wooyoung nods as he ponders over the words. "Is there someone?" Seonghwa asks him. The Prince tells his friends of you, working at the bakery, teasing him, making him laugh, walking you home and brushing your arms together. "And then she kissed me," Wooyoung whispers as if the sleeping baby would hear. Seonghwa smirks, "A kiss huh?" Wooyoung nods, "But then I left." The smirk falls off of Seonghwa's lips, "You left?"

"I had to leave for this trip, and when I went to say goodbye I think she wanted to kiss again, maybe. But before she could I left". Seonghwa closes his eyes and shakes his head at his friends confession, "Did you not want to kiss her?" Wooyoung finds himself blushing, "I mean, I did. But you know I don't know anything about that stuff. It's embarrassing and I wouldn't know what to do". His friend nods at him, "I know it can be a little intimidating, but if you really like her it'll come naturally. Just don't think too much, do what feels right for you. And most importantly, just tell her how you feel. Running away won't make her feel any good". "I guess you're right," Wooyoung says as they hear the Princess call for them from the kitchen.

The meal was cleared and now the three of them sat at the small table enjoying tea and telling stories, catching up. Between laughs they hear a small cry from the other room, a sign the small Wooyoung had awaken from her nap. "I'll be back," Seonghwa states, leaving to tend to his daughter.

Wooyoung takes a sip of his tea as the Princess speaks up across from him, "I took him from you, didn't I?"

He looks at her in shock, "Of course not". She gives him a small smile, "I always wish there was a way that we could be doing this back at home. With my family, with you. But it wasn't possible and I always feel bad, as if I tore everyone apart". Wooyoung frowns at her, "That's nonsense. If only we lived in a more understanding society then it wouldn't be the case. You did nothing wrong, you only fell in love".

She sighs, "You're right, I think just seeing you both together makes me feel awful that you're apart". Wooyoung nods, "I'm sure it's only for now, I bet in the future we'll all be together again". He speaks again, desperate to make her feel better, "So, what did your family have to say about your naming your daughter after me?" Laughing she shakes her head, "My parents were shocked but understood the sentiment, whereas Rose was furious that if we were going to name her after anyone it wasn't her". Wooyoung laughs, "Then I'll make sure to tease her endlessly about it back at the castle".

"Look who is awake," Seonghwa coos as he walks back into the kitchen carrying the baby. Her large, round eyes open now, small mouth letting out a yawn. Wooyoung smiles at the pair, "May I?" He reaches out and Seonghwa nods, bringing her over to place into his arms.

The trip ride back to Aurora went smoothly, the castle welcoming everyone back from their successful trip. Prince Wooyoung wearing a bright smile as he walked around the castle, he felt rested and a sense of knowing for the first time since his friend moved away.

In the evening he made the familiar walk back to the small bakery on the hill. It has been nearly a month since he had seen you, but he had a new sense of determination about his feelings for you and wanted to act on the advice that Seonghwa had given him. But as he walks up the steps, his heart couldn't help but pound at the thought of facing you again, especially with how he acted the last time he saw you. Nevertheless, he stepped to the door and opened it without hesitation.

"Oh, your highness!" Yunho calls from behind the counter, giving Wooyoung a smile from where he was cleaning the tea pots. "Yunho, how are you?" Wooyung smiles back. "I'm good, same old routine here. How was your trip?" The Prince was happy to inform him about how well the trip went and how happy he was to see his family and old friends. Of course leaving out the part about his former financé. "Well I hoped you missed us even just a little". Yunho teases and Wooyoung smirks, "Of course, you know I missed you most, Yunho". Yunho laughs at him, "Don't let my sister hear you". Licking his lips, Wooyoung speaks, "Where is she?"

Yunho nods his head towards the kitchen, and as if sensing him, you walk out drying your hands on a dish towel. You finally seem to notice him as your eyes widen and you give him a short bow, "Your highness, welcome back".

A small smile graces your face but he notices you seem to be avoiding his gaze. The Prince clears his throat, "Now that I have returned, I was hoping to walk you home, like we did before". He gives you a smile, but becomes nervous when you look hesitant. He watches as you look to your brother, who shrugs, "Go on, I'm nearly finished with this and then I'll lock up". Yet you still stand in place, finally sighing, "Alright, just a moment. Let me grab my coat".

Wooyoung doesn't know what to do at the awkwardness that fills the silence as he walks you down the familiar street to your home. He can see the destination just ahead but the two of you have yet to murmur a single word to each other. This was nothing like he had planned for his return to you. Approaching the gate, he moves to stand in front as if to stop you from entering. "How about we walk around the park?" He asks, referring to the large park just across the street.

He sees your eyes wandering to the park behind him, it was nearly nightfall and the cold would be setting in. "I have something I wish to talk to you about". He states again, hoping to push you into coming. You look down for a moment before nodding your head in agreement. Both of you heading over to walk along the stone path, the park filled with the sounds of birds saying goodnight and children running around.

Wooyoung has the feeling if he doesn't speak now, nothing but silence would become of your walk. "I had a very productive trip, I got to see my family and friends. Especially my close friend whom I miss dearly. And I'm glad I've got to meet with him once again because he really opened my eyes and gave me some much needed advice". You turn to him, finally giving him a small smile, "I'm glad your trip went well, your highness". You whisper out. He finally lets out a sigh of his own, "You know, you told me to come see you once I docked back in Aurora. Which I did, yet you don't seem very pleased to see me".

The setting sun still allows for him to see the blush rising to your cheeks as he calls you out. You shut your eyes, shaking your head, "I am glad to see you, I'm just," you stop walking and he moves to stand in front of you, "I'm just so embarrassed". The Prince gulps, automatically feeling bad, figuring it had to do with how he treated you before he left.

You run a hand across your forehead before stuffing it in the pocket of your coat, "I don't know what I was thinking, kissing you like that. And then trying to do it again, geez. If my mother knew I was going around making the first move kissing boys, especially a Prince," you trail off shaking your head. Wooyoung frowns at you, "No, it wasn't a problem-" "It sure seemed like one when you left before I could the second time. Gosh, I really don't know what I was thinking, please forgive me". You interrupt him.

It's at this point Wooyoung really realizes how he truly treated you before he left, how it must've seemed to you. He takes a cautious step forward, attempting to meet your gaze. "I apologize that that's what I made it seem like. But that is far from the truth." He takes a breath when you finally meet his eyes with a curious look.

"The truth is, I'm quite embarrassed too". He speaks and already feels his cheeks warming. He speaks your name softly, "I like you, a lot. I enjoy all the time we get to spend together." "But the reality of my life is that I grew up a guarded Prince who has no experience with feelings such as these. I was saved for a certain bride my whole life, and even though it didn't end up working out, I still am clueless when it comes to these things".

He can feel your eyes studying him as he confesses his truth, "I'm sorry that it came off as reluctance, but I was just nervous about everything. Nervous and ashamed I wouldn't know where to begin".

A frown covers your face as he finishes his story, "Oh, your highness. I should've realized, I'm so sorry. You're a Prince afterall, of course these things work different for royalty".

"But I don't want it to be different," he speaks up, "I want to have a normal experience as anyone else would. But I figure that's why I freaked out, because I knew being what I am, it would never be normal". He swallows as you reach out to gently place your hand on his arm. "I wish you would've told me, then I wouldn't have done it the way that I did".

"I know, I should've. I was just nervous how it would make me seem". Wooyoung chuckles and your lips quirk up slightly, "I would never judge you, you know". "Yeah, because I'm a Prince, right?" He laughs as you nudge him with your elbow.

Wooyoung feels proud with how things progress with you over the next couple of months. Seonghwa would be proud too, he thinks to himself every time he holds your hand while walking home or places a kiss to your lips at your doorstep.

He feels more comfortable than ever around you and your relationship blossomed more and more everyday. Even going as far as coming into your house when no one else was home, falling into your kisses on the sofa.

Along with comfortable, he feels confident. Whereas when you first tried to breach his mouth with your tongue, he pulled away flushed and shocked, now he is usually the one initiated such kisses.

Now as he walked up the path to the castle with you and your family, he resisted the urge to hold your hand or pull you closer to him by your waist. Though he was confident with your relationship, he knew the castle is where he should act properly. Especially as you were on your way to meeting the royals. Being the favorite bakery of the castle was not new, but what was new was being able to travel to the castle personally to give cake testing for the Princess' birthday.

Wooyoung smiles as he can tell you can barely hold your excitement at the sight the of castle's interior. Your parents and brother walking ahead with the cart of cakes, clearly just as amazed and excited as you were.

"I can't believe you live here," You gush to him on the way to the dining room. Eyes trying to take in all the extensive paintings and paths of royal blue carpet. The Prince merely chuckles in amusement, stopping at the door where a butler announces the arrival of the group.

He watches from behind as you and your family greet the Royal family properly, clearly nervous as only your parents have had the honor of meeting them before. Your parents proudly introduce you and your brother and the royal family happily compliments the display of small cakes that was brought along. Wooyoung moves to sit at the edge of the table, trying not to interrupt. The Princess compliments the decoration of the cake placed in front of her, a beautiful pink rose delicately pipped on. Wooyoung smiles at you as you blush, thanking her for the compliment on your work.

"Ah," The Queen speaks up, "You must be the girl who has taken the Prince from us".

Wooyoung knows the Queen is merely teasing, having spoken to the family about his fondness of the baker's daughter to them before. However, as he sees you freeze with a look of fear in your eyes he can tell you haven't picked up on her tone. Even your brother and parents looking nervous. Of course, he thinks, from the point of view of your family, your someone dating the Prince after he was supposed to marry their sick daughter. He's about to speak up to reassure you and your family but the Princess hums in delight after trying the cake. "Even if you end up hating Prince Wooyoung, I hope you won't take it out on us. I don't know if I could live without your desserts".

The King lets out a groan and the Queen rolls her eyes at her daughter, "Rose," she gives her a warning but it's enough the break the ice as your family moves on to showing her different options. But Wooyoung can notice how you've stayed quiet for the rest of the visit.

"I don't know," you speak, "I don't think it's appropriate". Wooyoung tugs on your hand trying to insist to show you his room after having said goodbye to your family. "Why not?" he asks, careful of his volume because of the guards around, "If this was your house you would be begging me to join you inside". You send him a glare and he chuckles, knowing you would shove him if it weren't for the guards around and your fear they would throw you in jail if you did. "But this is a castle," You claim as he intertwines your fingers, "It is, and I'm a Prince".

And with that he all but drags you up the stairs and into one of the many rooms on the floor. You look with wide eyes at the interior as he closes the door behind you. "It's nearly as big as my house all together".

He moves to place another log into the fire, laughing, "Now that's an exaggeration". You hum moving slowly throughout the room before carefully sitting on the silk sheets on the large bed. "You get to sleep on this all alone?" You ask him moving your hands along the green silk. "Are you offering to join me?" He smirks moving to sit beside you.

You send him a look but he can see the blush on your cheeks, "That's funny coming from a guy who was scared to kiss me not that long ago". Now he sends you a look as you laugh, moving to poke your side.

Moving closer to you, he moves some of your hair behind your ear, "They loved the cakes, especially Rose who was pleased you put roses on everything". You chuckle, shrugging, "I debated on it, I didn't want it to seem cheesy". "They loved it", he says and you nervously pat down the sides of your skirt. "At least they loved something about me, even if it is only my decoration". Wooyoung frowns, "That's not true,". You give him a knowing, sad look, "Wooyoung, you were supposed to marry their daughter. Of course they don't like me. If the Princess was in good health both of you would be married by now, instead you're with a baker. I can't imagine they look at me too fondly".

An ugly feeling grows in his stomach, a reaction of your speaking down on yourself, an urge to tell you the truth. He calls your name, "Please don't speak about yourself in such a way. I've grown close to the royal family since my time here and I've told them about you. They know how I feel about you, and I promise anything that has happened in the past is not something they would hold against you".

He watches as you swallow deeply, trying to suppress your feelings. Wishing nothing more than to stop you from thinking so harshly about yourself. "You're beautiful and I-I care about you more than you can imagine. No matter who am I, who you are, what our pasts may be, my feelings for you are stronger than any of that".

You move to place a hand softly against his cheek, leaning to place a kiss on his lips, "Thank you" you say softly. Wooyoung returns your smile before moving to peck your lips.

A couple pecks suddenly turn into more as before he knows it, he's laying on his back in the middle of his bed while you rest on top of him, the warmth of your tongue heavy in his mouth. Wooyoung's heart pounds in his chest, his hands feel heavy on your waist but he isn't sure where else he should place them. Sure over the past couple of months he's made out with you multiple times, but never like this. It's always been on your couch or in your back garden, never on a bed with your weight on top of him.

He can feel your warmth and hear your breaths and it's all very new, very intimate, very...arousing.

He's torn between his nerves getting the best of him, politely asking you to stop. Or on the other hand, wanting to keep going, not letting his brain overthink and just lose himself in you.

The Prince makes a sound when you gently bite on his bottom lip before pulling away, "Do you mind if I take this off, it's getting a bit warm". You're referring to your dress and Wooyoung's head spins. He clears his throat when he realizes you're waiting for him to make sure he's comfortable. "Of course," he finally gets out and he's so flushed he's almost embarrassed. He watches as you give him a quick smile before stepping to the ground, making quick work of your dress.

He gulps as the garment falls to the ground, the fire behind your admitting a glow on your bare skin that has his breath thickening. You slowly make your way back to the position where you were before, watching the Prince carefully to make sure he's still okay with this.

As you take your place back on his lap, he becomes worried for a second, worried you would feel the hardness that has been growing between his legs since you started. But before he could think too long, he takes you in closely. Eyes running over every inch of skin newly displayed to him, a new fondness and desire spreading through his veins.

"I would've wore something a little nicer had I known I would find myself here", he listens to you say with a shy laugh, probably self conscious with how long he was staring. Wooyoung quickly shakes his head, "No, you're perfect. I just can't believe you're in front of me right now looking like this".

You gulp and he reaches with trembling hands to place them on your knees which sit next to his waist. They travel up your thighs, to your hips where he caresses with his thumbs. He revels in the warmth of your skin, continuing his journey, moving along your sides, carefully moving along your covered chest before taking their place behind your neck.

With his grip he moves you down to meet his lips once more, a his fever apparent in the way his kisses you. His hands continue to enjoy their new freedom, moving along to caress different parts of your body whereas yours sit playing with his hair that's sprawled out on the bed below him.

He starts to understand why you felt the need to remove your dress; beads of sweat making their way down his chest and back. He separates your lips desperate to cool down. "Do you mind if I take this off as well?" He watches as you gulp but nod, sitting up to allow him room. Wooyoung quickly pulls his shirt over his head, trying not to feel self conscious about you seeing him like this for the first time. He chucks it over the foot of the bed before jolting when he feels your fingers moving along the waistline of his pants. "Do you want to take this off as well?" You asking, sounding too innocent for asking someone to remove their pants. The Prince clears his throat before nodding, watching as you move to sit on the side of him, steady hands coming to undo the button and zipper.

Once they were unfastened, he takes it upon himself to remove them. Embarrassingly thinking about how turned on he was merely from having your hands so close to his cock. His pants land to the floor beneath him and you give him a smile, moving your hands to reach for him again. Wooyoung panics a little, whether you were reaching to remove his undergarments or even touch him over it he wasn't sure. "Perhaps we can kiss some more". He says breathlessly, a red hue taking over his cheeks. This may have been the farthest he was gone before, but he doesn't think he's ready to be completely naked in front of you just yet.

"Of course," you say giving him a smile before returning to your place on his lap. As you settle yourself down on him once again, he lets out a groan as he feels your warmth on his hardness. The thin layers left doing very little to suppress the feeling of your folds on his cock.

Your lips come to move against his once more and he feels more confident now running his hands along the softness of your body. Experimentally, he runs his hands over the expanse of your ass, causing you jolt, moving along his cock. The both of you let out soft sounds of pleasure before you apologize. Wooyoung merely shakes his head, mouth still slightly parted from the small pleasure he received. Curiously, you rut your hips again, "Is this okay?" He nods, trying not to seem too eager. He wasn't sure how far he wanted to go tonight, but with your rubbing yourself against his cock he knew he was okay with this.

Instead of connecting your lips again, you place your hands firmly on his chest, giving yourself leverage to continue moving your hips. As you start to quicken your pace, his grip on your ass tightens. He would like to think he's helping move you against him, but he knows in reality you're doing all the work while he lays there lost in the pleasure.

A particularly hard movement from you causes his hips to buck up into yours, a sound of pleasure leaving your own mouth. The Prince opens his eyes, not even sure when he closed them, and takes you in. He thinks you look unreal sitting on him like this, eyes blown out, a sheen of sweat on your body glowing by the light of the fire, mouth slightly open as you breathe deeply from moving on top of him.

He groans as your hips begin to move more feverently, you grinding harder onto him. Wooyoung dares to look down between you both and he all but loses it at the sight. Just slightly, the head of his cock as started to peak out onto his stomach, his underwear sliding down the smallest amount from your moving. There's a wetness forming on his stomach from the leaking head of his cock and if he wasn't so turned on right now, he would surely be embarrassed. Your undergarments are white and from where your moving on him, he can see your own wetness has started to seep through. He closes his eyes with a sigh, hands moving to your hips in an attempt to move you along him quicker. "Please," Wooyoung calls out in what seems like a whimper, what he's asking for he isn't sure but he's so lost in the pleasure his mind is becoming clouded.

The next few moments are filled with hectic, rushed movements. Wooyoung desperately clinging to the pleasure he was feeling. It wasn't long before he cums, spilling his seed onto his own stomach. Ears ringing and having to close his eyes. Never has someone given him such pleasure before and he feels almost exhausted from the rush.

He feels out of it as you both clean up, taking every couple of seconds to place soft kisses on each others lips. Now he's enjoying the feeling of holding you in his arms, both of you laying under a blanket that usually serves as decoration. Spring was approaching so the fire and small blanket was enough for you not to lie underneath the sheets.

Wooyoung plays with your hair, eyes closed as he enjoys having you with him. He takes the silence to think about everything, you, his friends, his family. Finally, he decides he doesn't want secrets.

"I want to tell you something," he whispers out quietly, voice nearly drowned out by the crackling fire. He feels you hum against him, showing him you're listening. "But you have to promise to not utter a word to another soul". Your curiosity gets the best of you as you move slightly to look up at him. "I'm serious," he continues his whispering, "What I want to tell you, not even anyone in the castle knows, aside from the royal family and me".

You blink at him in shock, "Perhaps it should remain a secret for me then". The Prince cracks a smile, "No, I really want you to know. But just promise me, even if in the future you decide you no longer want to be with me, you cannot let this slip. Do you understand?"

He watches you gulp before nodding. Deciding his message is clear, he begins his story, "I was engaged before, yes?" You nod, "To the Princess".

He nods, "And unfortunately, she got sick and had to leave the kingdom, right?" You nod, frowning. "Wrong," he speaks softly. You take a moment to understand what he's trying to say, "What?" He licks his lips, "The Princess is not sick, she merely fell in love".

Wooyoung watches carefully as you take in the information, blinking slowly with your eyebrows furrowed. "I arrived to Aurora with my advisor, my best friend. Things happened, and he fell in love with the Princess and she fell in love with him." Your eyes widen at the news, barely being able to comprehend, "I'm so sorry".

He chuckles, "No, don't apologize. I wasn't in love with the Princess, I wasn't sad because she didn't love me. Just confused because she was my planned future since I was born. But I saw how much my best friend truly loved her, so I helped them leave. Now they live with their daughter is a small village inland". He watches the wheels turning in your head, "You understand right, that you can't let anyone else know this". You nod feverently. "Of course, I would never. Thank you for telling me though, I-" you pause and swallow, "So the royal family really doesn't hate me?"

Wooyoung laughs, "No, I told you so. I told them how much you mean to me and they're happy for me. That I promise".

"What does it say?" You ask as you wipe down the table next to where Wooyoung is sitting. He offered to stay behind while you closed the bakery, giving your brother a break from the closing duties. The Prince chuckles as he read the letter in front of him, "Apparently little Wooyoung has started to wander into the neighbors garden to terrorize their cat". He speaks of his best friend's daughter.

You chuckle beside him, "So they named her after you for a reason". He sends you a playful glare. Ever since telling you his biggest secret, you suggested writing his friends from the bakery. That way it was away from the castle and the secret could be kept without being suspicious. Now the bakery gets monthly letters written from the point of view of a young Wooyoung living in Utopia.

"She does mention she's excited to see us for a week in the summer though," he states as he folds the letter back up. You smile at him, "And you're sure it's okay for me to go along?" He all but glares at you, "How many times must I assure you?". You shrug, a blush coming up to your cheeks, "I just wanted to make sure I'm not intruding."

"Of course you're not," He stands, moving to approach you and leave a kiss on your lips, "I love you and I want you to meet everyone important in my life". He had already planned a trip for you to meet his family back in Twilight before staying with Seonghwa, the Princess, and their daughter in Utopia before coming home.

You give him a big smile, dropping your rag before throwing yourself in his arms, placing a kiss on his lips as he groans, "I love you too".

🌼 All feedback is appreciated and welcomed 🌼

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mswyrr · 9 months

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Things like prolonged abuse can give people very uneven social and emotional development. They can be very responsible and "mature for your age" in some areas and also very stunted and immature in others.

This can also happen for, say, LGBT people who were closeted during pivotal periods of development too, where dating and discovering themselves happens later and there can be a development gap for a time. And grief around never getting to be a kid when they were a kid can be a thing for people once they try to connect with the things they had to cut off because they weren't safe to feel them. I went through some of that myself, from various sources, so I have a lot of empathy for that and how absurd/frustrating it can be.

(And a lot of hope - it doesn't, as far as I've seen and experienced, take someone very long to "catch up" after a while of fumbling around like an idiot)

Anyway - sometimes I see people reading Carmy's "accidental fuckboi" behavior in terms of how a grown man who's been dating since he was a teen would be thinking/feeling, if he behaved like that. But, for me, I interpret that differently because of the “first” situation and the developmental stuff. IMO, he's basically being a feckless/inexperienced teenager dating for the first time here, because in this area of his life he is still developmentally a dumb feckless teenager (and one who is trying and failing "not to be shitty" without much of a clue what that looks like).

Doesn't make the harm less real, but the intent I think is shaped deeply by the fact that, for the first time in his life, he feels safe enough (because of how much responsibility Sydney and Nat are taking on and that is absolutely not fair to them!!) to try to enjoy things. And he thinks maybe he can even make that work with being responsible somehow, but... utterly clueless about how.

There's the caveat that he didn't go out and choose to start dating at this pivotal moment for the business - dating found him and there's complexities around how much he wanted it to find him right here and now and how much he feels obligated to be what his family/friends/Claire wants him to be. I think he'd have been able to turn down anyone who wasn't as deeply tied to his family as Claire, and I'm not ignoring his agency in the situation, but they chose to bring someone in who he'd find it incredibly difficult to balance pleasing/doing what he's expected to do by while balancing everything else for a reason.

The "executive function" stuff where he's staring at the calls coming in and unable to answer either of them is key for me, in terms of this being someone who just isn't functioning well rn at all and is coming to a real crisis point and trying to ignore that/salve that any way he can think of. Masking really hard and deep in denial and trying to keep a lot of plates spinning without being very intentional about any of it.

It leads to sucky behavior and he's responsible for that--and the other characters can and should hold him responsible for that, but especially for actually addressing the core gravity warping untreated mental illness that's motivating a lot of this frantic rushing around and being a prick-- but I don't personally see much of it as a crime of intent. Intent requires a level of insight and experience that he doesn't have in the area of dating specifically lol

That balance of someone being responsible for their actions but also, for various reasons, in a place that mitigates and shapes what they're able to do--based on the tools they have--is an interesting part of the story that gets touched on again and again through various characters. It's interesting and it can coexist with the people around someone having the right to protect their own peace and boundaries.

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kyouka-supremacy · 2 months

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Dazai?

Eheh Dazai

Favorite thing about them: I really like how as a character he was able to deeply touch so many people!! Seeing so many people finding relief in being able to relate to and emphasize with the character makes me happy.

Least favorite thing about them: I mean, his personality? I don't like how his many flaws are written to be interpreted as strong points / good traits for his character to the point no flaw is actually a flaw, it makes the reading experience very frustrating for me.

Favorite line:

brOTP: Mmmmhh, I don't spend a lot of time thinking about Dazai. Soukoku, probably. The Buraiha trio makes me emotional a little. Souheki, but in a very passive-aggressive, over-competitive, one-sided rivality, can't-stand-each-other way. Dazai and Kyouka. Dazai and Atsushi too I suppose, though I prefer them romantically. I think he makes for a lot of interesting dynamics with virtually all the characters, but none compells me in particular tbh.

OTP: Odazai is plain canon to me, idk what to tell you. I think they make for a beautiful, tragic love story. Get you a man who is willing to change the path of his whole life for another man just like that, nobody does it like them (actually, wait, I can think of another man... ). Although I always distantly liked them, dazatsu has grown on me like, an INSANE amount in the last few months. I'm not sure what happened. I think it was an unfortunate (lol) coincidence of growing a little fonder of Dazai and just wanting to give more space and agenda to Atsushi. Like to me a lot of what dazatsu is really is about giving Atsushi more agency and autonomy and independence and overall just respecting him as a complex, full fleshed out character. I don't see ANY kind of power imbalance in it I keep finding people talk about. Dazai pushes Atsushi to be better every day, and Atsushi does exactly the same for Dazai. Atsushi admires and respects Dazai, and Dazai admires and respects Atsushi equally. I really don't know why the ship isn't more popular and instead just gets discarded most of the time tbh. I feel like everyone should sit down a second and actually give Atsushi the dignity to choose for himself. And fyozai!!! The investment in this ship mostly goes on waves for me but despite that I firmly believe that they really make for an engaging and interesting dynamic to be interpreted romantically. The epitome of “You're both just enabling each other's mental illnesses. You're both perfect for each other. Never change. Just never involve anybody else in what you've got going on.”

nOTP: Nothing comes to my mind.

Random headcanon: Not canon related, but in modern aus I feel like he'd be one to always end up working at ceo roles and he would HATE it. He fires himself and starts working at some cheap frozen yogurt place and one month later he'll find himself as the ceo of the most important oil company of the country AGAIN without him even realizing it / despite his active efforts to avoid that. And he HATES IT. He fires himself again but the loop only repeats forever. He's just that kind of person for whom all doors open automatically.

Unpopular opinion: ............ I could be here forever. I regretfully fail to relate to a lot of characterization / readings of the character I've seen the fandom give him. I really don't want to dwell on this so I'll just mention something mostly unrelated to his characterization: I wholly can't share the take of him being physically built like??? At all??? Which got REALLY popular a few months ago. Dude feels like he never lifted a finger his whole life, I really don't know where the idea comes from???? And I personally don't take his manga visual portrayal as a telling factor for this; pretty much all the characters have the same body type, it's impossible for me to base the buff Dazai assumption on how he's drawn in the manga. Just one thing about his chracter though stop making him matchmaker for ss/kk he really isn't stop don't do it please

Song i associate with them: HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE associating him with my favourite vocaloid song ever but. Meltdown by iroha is a very Dazai song. So many other songs though... Parade of Liars by ryo. Abstract Nonsense by Neru. God-ish by Pinocchio-P. So on and so forth.

Favorite picture of them:

Favourite panel from the manga:

Favourite illustration:

Favourite illustration in the anime art style:

Favourite Mayoi card:

Send me a character?

#Thank you for asking!! <33 #osamu dazai #bsd #mine #people asks me stuff #I hate how for all the other characters so far I had to go over all their panels/lines while with Dazai I already knew exactly what to pick

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ely--sia · 8 months

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08: amor vincit omnia

amor vincit omnia - love conquers all; miguel o'hara x reader fantasy au in which miguel is a powerful, famed knight of the queen and you are but a lowly commoner he rescues out of the blue. when everything is threatened to become uprooted, what is left?

<- previous chapter next chapter ->

snow covers everything, the green of summer and the following red-orange of autumn now nowhere to be seen. patricia tells you that the year is almost over.

you two had become even closer since that night, teetering on the line of becoming lovers. however, neither one of you have the courage to lift the soft veil separating one from the other. you can see a shadow of him, faint and blinking in and out of sigh tlike a small flame. every time you reach out, you swear that this time, your hand will touch warm skin, but it grasps at nothing, the outline of miguel, broad and tall and beautiful, gone as if it had never been there.

still, it is undeniable that miguel cares for you, and it is undeniable that you care for him as well. even a blind man would be able to tell. for instance, miguel insists that you do not know how to dress for the cold, so you ask him to dress you instead. every morning, miguel comes to your room a little bit earlier to choose your dresses for the day. he swears that he does not think you pleasing to look at, but you notice how his eyes linger, how his gifts become more frequent. then, when miguel heads to his study, sometimes you go with him. miguel works while you sit by his window to keep him company. sometimes, lyla sits with you, and the two of you speak quietly as he works. and sometimes you fall asleep, giving into the lulls of the afternoon sun or the rising moon. every time that you do, you wake up on the sofa instead, with a coat of his as a blanket. miguel insists that you are a nuisance, that you should return to your room and rest next time, but you have gotten too good at reading the true meaning behind miguel’s words to truly believe that he is annoyed.

and sometimes, miguel takes a few of his men on short campaigns, lasting three days at most. he goes to slay the few stray beasts that wander into town. he always returns victorious. after all, he is the renowned and feared sword of the queen, her crazed hunting dog. they say that he is the reincarnation of achilles himself. you think that it must be true. both his battle prowess and beauty are unmatched. no one else is more fit for that title than miguel, but whenever you bring it up, he snorts and insists that you do not indulge in such old myths, that he is nowhere near worthy of that title. and while he is gone, you are left alone. whenever you are left like this, the manor somehow feels colder. before, you would have paid no mind. there is always too much to do, from cleaning to cooking to washing. but now, you have grown tame and free under the care of miguel’s people. you do not have anything to busy yourself with. you simply wait, and wait, and wait until you finally hear the familiar thudding of furious hooves against pavestone.

one day, miguel comes back, but he is nowhere to be seen when you run down the halls to the large doors. you feel a pang of disappointment and worry strike your heart. the worry lights a fire in you when you see the maids hauling miguel’s armor, one-by-one, covered in blood. your eyes widen and you can feel your fingertips getting cold in fear.

“is that,” you start, mouth getting drier by the second, “is that miguel’s blood?”

you dread the reply that is to come, but a knight simply laughs.

“no, he would never fall victim to something as small as this,” his eyes twinkle as he speaks of his leader, “that is ogre blood. he was covered in it, head to toe.”

you let out a breath as your hammering heart begins to calm. but if he is safe, then where is he? why is he not here, polishing his beloved armor himself?

“the lord is outside, at the small well in the garden. he insisted on cleaning up before he came in,” a maid says, holding back a small giggle as she looks at you.

it is a cold day. you are almost shivering inside the manor, so you cannot even imagine how cold it is outside. you do not understand his actions. you had half expected the well to be frozen with how cold it had been recently. before you can even think, your feet take you to the small well, where you know miguel is. he is exactly where the maids had told you he had gone. miguel is shirtless and glistening with the cold water from the well. his bare body is sculpted so beautifully, rippling with muscle underneath his tan skin. just looking at him, you can almost feel the sun burning against your skin as it had surely done his. there are mountains of words that you would use to describe miguel, but the one word that you would choose if you had to would be pretty. miguel is a pretty, pretty man. and perhaps you had missed him more than you had realized, because your face burns bright when you are met with the sight of him. his eyes widen in surprise as he sees you.

“why are you outside? is it not cold?” you ask. your own face stings from the harsh winter wind.

“i am fine. you are cold. go back inside. i will only be a moment,” he says, scrubbing at his skin and hair.

“you should have just gone inside for a bath,” you do not understand why he chooses to be outside.

“i was covered in ogre blood. it is a disgusting thing, and smells even worse. i did not want to bring it into the manor.”

“but the maids seem fine with it. they were hauling in your bloodied armor. stop being stubborn and come inside,” you wish he could just listen to you sometimes. but miguel is miguel, and if he is anything, he is stubborn.

“no,” his answer is short and clear.

but you have lived with miguel for so long now, and you know how to be just as stubborn and bull-headed as he is.

“then i will not go inside either,” you respond, pulling your dress up slightly to sit down on the ground. you wrap your shawl around you tightly to emphasize how cold you are.

“what? what are you doing? go inside,” his face contorts into one of frustration and annoyance as he looks down at you.

you simply turn your face from him, refusing to listen. he will go inside, and you will stay outside with him until he does. miguel groans as he realizes this himself.

“this blood is sticky and stubborn and disgusting. i was sticky and disgusting. i did not want you to see it,” he sighs as he finally confesses the truth, “so go inside. you are shivering. i am nearly done,” he tries to explain to you, hoping that you will give up at his sincerity.

it does not work.

“do you think me so weak that i will faint at the sight of blood? am i so haughty that i will not allow you in your own home because you are bloodied?” you glare at him from the corner of your eyes. you are growing colder by the minute, but you still hope that he will give in.

miguel looks at you incredulously.

“what does this have to do with any of that?” he cries out. he groans. perhaps he should consider being less stubborn. around you, at least. you learn too quickly for his liking.

you glance up at him, waiting for the moment he will sigh and finally break, trying to seem as unwilling as possible as he does whatever you ask.

“i am getting cold,” you say.

“fine. you are so annoying,” he rolls his eyes. he chooses to leave his tunic on the grass, the white of it darkened by blood-red.

you grin as you jump up, cheeks red from the biting wind. miguel grumbles as he walks, and you walk quicker to match his wide gait. he tries to keep up his annoyed facade, but he cannot help the small smile that forms on his lips as he looks at you.

“you must be freezing,” you laugh as you take your shawl off and put it around him.

he tries to push you off, but your touch is gone before he knows it, replaced by your flowing shawl around his broad, bare shoulders.

“you must keep it on,” you pout as he frowns, “otherwise i will not go inside,” you fight back a laugh at his expression.

his face is incredulous, as if he cannot deal with you anymore, but he still complies. you laugh as you run after him, your shorter legs naturally falling behind his almost inhumanly longer ones. miguel finally enters the manor, still shirtless and, despite complaining, with your shawl still wrapped around him. your heart sings with joy as you find yourself in miguel’s presence once more, and regardless of how much miguel feigns annoyance, you know that his does too.

then suddenly, in the middle of the coldest month of winter, miguel is called to lead an expedition. you do not know for what, and miguel hardly tells you either. he says that you do not need to trouble your mind with such violence. but regardless of what he is called to do, miguel has to leave, and you worry. yes, for yourself, but mostly for miguel. you had heard him say that it is the most dangerous time of the year now, with beasts growing hungry and territorial. all of his other men are equally confused: this is the first time that they had been called to action in the colder months, during the coldest days of winter, at that. miguel himself seems perplexed by the sudden campaign as well, but it seems that he cannot deny his queen. still, miguel reassures you that it will be fine, that he is the miguel o’hara. he tells you that he has slain giants and harpies and dragons with ease, but this does not mean anything to you. when you tell him this, his face falls slightly, as if he knows that he cannot console you, but it is gone before you can say anything. miguel is not afraid of the quest itself. he does not worry or doubt; it would not matter even if he did. miguel is upset because he does not want to leave you for so long. even if he pushes on with everything he has, he knows that it will still take him until the end of the year for him to return home. he does not know if he can bear it: despite how hard he tries to push it down, to ignore it, the absence of you seems more harsh than the harsh winter snow or the angry winds or the snapping jaws of any creature or beast combined.

the night before he leaves, miguel comes to your room. it is so late that the stars are nearly gone. you are not asleep, however. not yet. you sit quietly, alone, next to the window, as you rub the sleep away from your eyes in hopes that miguel will come. and he does. the door opens and your head snaps towards the sound. a multitude of emotions fill your heart, but in your mind, there is only a single thought: miguel is here. it echoes in your head until it is the only thing you can think of. miguel walks towards you. he is still dressed in his black tunic and equally dark pants. the swell of the muscles of his chest peeks out from underneath the tunic, highlighted by the soft night. he must have been working until now.

“miguel,” you say, your lips curving up gently. you do not realize that you are smiling. around miguel, it is as natural and sure as breathing or blinking.

miguel’s lips part slightly, as if there are so many things that are pushing to come out of his mouth that they force it open. he pushes it all down and comes to sit in front of you. miguel closes the window.

“it is cold. why do you never listen?” he chides gently. it seems that out of everything that he holds delicately on his tongue, this is the one he chooses. miguel quietly berates himself for never being able to say what he means. he wishes desperately to be soft, to have the courage to do so. but he is a coward, and he is always too harsh and too rough. he worries that one day, you will find yourself cut one too many times by his thorny words and leave. however, contrary to his words, his face is so soft when he looks upon you that any stinging thorns are turned into nothing but sweet feathers that tickle and tease your skin.

“if it was too warm, i would have fallen asleep,” you reply, still smiling. his words, unintentionally biting and fierce, do not affect you at all.

“you should be asleep. it is late.”

“you worry too much. i can sleep tomorrow, or the day after that, or the day after that. but i will not be able to see you for quite a while.” your smile grows sweeter.

a silence flows between you for a while. both you and miguel simply indulge in each other’s presence, trying to commit the feeling of the other to memory. every gaze, every breath, every rise and fall of the chest. you try to consume all of it, all of him, to drink him in and keep him hidden and safe and close against your chest. even now, you worry that when you close your eyes, you will begin to forget miguel, piece by piece, until nothing is left.

“when will you be back?” you finally start to speak again. there is a sort of emptiness when you try and imagine your days without miguel.

“soon,” miguel replies.

his voice is nonchalant. then, he looks away and swallows hard, and you already know that it will not be soon. you have listened to miguel for so long that you know the truth behind even a single breath. but you let it pass. perhaps you want to believe it yourself, that in just a few days, the gates will open like always as he leads his cheering men victoriously back to their homes.

silence falls once more. there is too much that wants, needs, to be said. then, miguel speaks first this time.

“and you. do not step foot outside of the manor,” he says, voice quiet and rough. he makes sure that you understand that what he is saying is final, but he suddenly worries that it is too much. too much to ask, to demand. too much bite in his words. he does not mean it, not in the way that he had said it. he grows quiet again for a moment.

“please,” he adds, this time more quietly than before. miguel is a fearful man deep inside, and sometimes, the fear that he tries to hide grows to consume him. he hopes that you understand.

“okay,” you smile. you see what he is saying underneath the rough exterior, “i will be safe. do not worry about me.”

if anyone should worry, it should be you, you think. you do not understand why he is so wound up tightly for you.

miguel takes a look at you, gaze filled with fear and longing, then sighs as he looks back down.

“you do not understand.”

you can only smile as he says this.

“it is okay. i do not understand, and that is fine. because i will be okay, regardless of what happens.”

a part of you wants to be selfish, to beg him not to go. he has never denied you before, and you think, hope, that he will indulge you once more. no matter how many times you swallow the ugly feeling down, it rises back up twice as strong as before.

“and you,” you begin, mouth becoming dry suddenly, “you have to come back, okay?”

miguel’s face falls for a moment to betray his true emotions, but it is gone quicker than it comes.

“i will,” the words sound foreign as he says them. his throat bobs as he repeats the words, more surely this time, “i will.”

“because if you do not return, then i swear to the heavens that i will never eat with you again,” you say, an empty threat meant to lighten the mood, “and i will never accept your presents, and i will never let you see me.”

miguel laughs. you wish to keep this moment with you forever.

“then i will have to be back. i have no other choice,” miguel smiles, face illuminated by the dark blue of the night sky flowing through the window.

the night sky slowly brightens until the moon and the stars disappear. they leave glistening tears of farewell upon the flowers and the moss and the leaves. you and miguel continue to talk, and then it is time for him to leave. before you know it, you are standing in front of the huge oak doors of the manor with lyla and the maids. miguel and his men do their final checks and begin to mount their steeds, one by one. you can see that miguel is ready to leave now, but he does not. there is an expression on his face that you cannot quite place as he looks at you. suddenly, you are a small child again, trying to hold back your tears as you watch your father leave your home once again to journey to the city. you know that miguel will be back, and you know that he will be safe, but you still do not want him to leave. you simply stand there, a storm of feelings shadowing over your heart as you clasp your hands tightly behind your back. you do not know if you will be able to stop yourself from reaching out to him if you let your hands go. you worry that they will latch onto him like vines and never let him go. there are words that threaten to burst out of your chest. you try and swallow them all down as miguel finally tears his gaze from you and mounts his black steed.

“miguel, wait,” you call out. his name falls from your lips before you know it.

miguel turns to look at you, as if he had been waiting for you to say something. lyla and the maids bow and rush inside before you can do anything else, and miguel’s men begin to head towards the gate. it is just the two of you now, once again.

with fingers numb from the cold, you carefully untie a ribbon from your hair. it flows brilliant white in the wind. you grasp it in your hands as you silently whisper a prayer to the winds. then, you hold it up to him so that he may take it.

“i am sorry that this is all i can give you,” you say.

miguel takes it from your fingers, touch softer than a feather. the ribbon looks so small in his hands that you worry that it will disappear. he ties it around the hilt of his sword. the ribbon glows softly against the black leather.

“i swear it to you that i will return this to you unsullied. i will tie it into your hair myself when i return,” he says. his voice is soft.

you cannot say anything more. you are sure that if you open your mouth again, you will beg him to stay. you bite your tongue and stand in silence.

“and i have something to tell you. when i return,” he is more resolute now, and his gaze is filled with a fire that you do not know.

“i only wish that you return safe,” you smile, “you do not have to swear anything else.”

“but i already have,” he replies, a smile in his voice.

he opens his mouth like he wants to say something more, but he stops himself before he can. instead, he reluctantly says his final farewell. as his men join him at the gates, you can feel the thudding of their horses beneath your feet. it is as if the ground speaks to you. when it is finally gone, you return to the manor. and inside, there is an emptiness that chills you to your bones. it is nothing like the cold of the winter; instead, it seeps into you slowly, like a cloth dipped in water. it makes your body feel heavier and heavier with each passing day.

you try and keep yourself busy. you beg the maids to help them around the manor, and they let you sometimes, albeit reluctantly. it reminds you of before, when your home was not this huge manor, but a house on the verge of breaking down. you cook sometimes as well, and you read. lyla had been told by miguel to not let you do any menial chores, for he had worried that your hands would grow rough and calloused, but she takes pity on you and lets you do some of the paperwork with her instead. she says that you are quite skilled, and you are happy to be able to help out. but you worry that there are too little chores to finish and too little books to read, and you will run out before miguel ever returns. you worry that if that happens, the emptiness will consume you until you are nothing more than a statue. being lonely is a luxury, one that you had never been able to experience. to be able to bask in such feelings had been something that you could never afford to do. the life of a common person is far too busy to dwell on the past. there is always money to be made and work to be done, and if you had been asked about being so lonely in the past, you would have laughed out loud, for you had never experienced such a thing before. but now, you are forced into it, and you desperately lack the experience to be able to face it.

sometimes, when a breeze crosses your path, you swear that it brings with it parts of miguel. sometimes, you swear that you can feel a gentle touch on your shoulders, exactly where miguel had touched you whenever he lent you his coat. on days like this, you smile and pray that he is well. you pray to the gods that the winter treats him well, for you know how unforgiving it can be. you wonder if he thinks about you as much as you do him. does he dream of your touch as well? does he sometimes hear your voice in the howling wind? does he pray to the gods for you as you do him? does miguel hold you dear to his heart as well? you hope that he does. and that is all you can do, hope.

but when days turn into weeks, which then turn into months, it is hard to keep hoping. it is hard to only rely on prayers and hopes alone to keep you afloat. the year passes as if it is such a small thing, to move into a new year. you do not even notice it until lyla points it out. still, miguel is nowhere to be seen. and then one day, two moons since the beginning of the new year, the horns ring throughout the town. you had not realized that this sound had become so welcome to you, but the moment you hear it, something in your chest is lifted off. but you cannot afford to feel so happy, not yet. from the distance, you hear the townspeople cheering before you can see the men on their horses riding through the streets. their flag, navy and red and proud, waves in the wind victoriously. finally, a wave of relief washes through you. you rush outside, and the large gates of the manor slowly push open. you can feel the thudding of hooves against the ground. before you know it, miguel is in front of you once more. he is miguel, same as you remember, from his skin to his hair to his face to his body. the entire manor is bustling once again, with maids frantically hauling pieces of armor from the soldiers. miguel tells them that they can head to the town for the return festival or remain at the manor to rest. soon, everyone is rushing inside the manor to get everything ready. and for a moment, in between all of the bustling, miguel simply sits atop his horse and looks at you, gaze unreadable. warmth fills your body, overflowing onto your cheeks and the tips of your ears. miguel is back, and he has brought spring with him.

“welcome back,” your voice sounds foreign amidst the beating of your own heart in your ears.

wordlessly, he dismounts, taking off his worn leather gloves, and from the hilt of his sword, he unties a ribbon. it shines a pristine white, a huge contrast against the bloodied leather. he towers over you, but you do not feel even an inkling of fear. rather, you can feel nothing but his gentleness. it thaws your frozen skin deep down to your bones. it makes flowers bloom upon your own cheeks. in your chest, you feel as if you are being tickled by a feather. you try to make it stop, but it does not: it only leaves you breathless and laughing and red. there is such irony in feeling only gentleness from a man who kills thousands. he reaches out a hand and ties the ribbon into your hair. it is messy and rough and childish.

“sorry,” his voice is gruff.

“i have waited so long. you have more to say than an apology,” you smile.

“i do,” miguel hums, and you almost keen into him, his voice.

“then you must tell me. i cannot read minds, after all.”

miguel opens his mouth, but closes it as if he cannot say it. not yet. his face is dark, as if he still has something left to finish. what more is left? you cannot bear to see him leave once more.

“are you leaving again?” you almost whisper. you are worried that if you say it too loud, then the gods will hear it and make it true.

his face twists as he grits his teeth. you swear that he growls for a moment. in that moment, you see a miguel that is different from the one you know. you wait, and wait, and wait, but he does not deny it.

“please, just tell me.”

“no,” he finally spits out. in that moment, you think that miguel might rip himself apart.

“it is okay. i can listen. do not worry,” you try and console him, a hand reaching out and touching his arm. but it does not meet warm skin. instead, all you feel is hard iron, cold and unfeeling.

“no, you do not understand,” his voice is like thunder. it is so, so loud that you swear it rattles your bones. for a moment, he breathes heavily, eyes clouded with fear. then, he becomes quiet once more, “you must come to the capital. it is by order of the queen.”

he detests himself for having to tell you all of this. he detests himself for letting the wotan learn about your existence. he had never wanted this to happen. he had hoped and prayed that you could be kept a secret. he had begged to any god or demon or spirit, anyone that would listen, that you be kept out of the wotan’s sight. but how could he hope for such a foolish thing? his hands are forever stained a deep crimson, and his soul is so tainted that even beasts quiver in fear. what god, what demon would listen to his begging? he should have known. she is all-seeing and all-knowing and all-encompassing; it had been drilled into his bones when he had been taken in as a soldier at ten, and again and again ever since. now, these are the consequences of defying her word. he does not know if he can take it, not again. not after what had happened to gabriella. the wotan is a cruel ruler. she does what is necessary, regardless of what it takes. and you will pay for his selfishness. miguel does not even feel sadness or anger or fear. not anymore. it had piled and piled on top of each other until suddenly, miguel had felt nothing. there is just a profound emptiness where everything used to be. miguel is a naturally fearful man. when even his fears cannot amount to anything, like a cornered animal finding out that its teeth cannot bite hard enough, what does he have left?

miguel had learned the answer when gabriella had been taken from him, and he learns it again as he helplessly watches you walk into the wotan’s hands on your own two feet.

there is nothing left but despair.

A/N: WOOHOO NEXT CHAPTER!!! im probably going to have to extend this story by a few chapters (less than five i promis)!!!

also if it isn't clear (it probably isn't sorry!!) i tried to make the queen the embodiment of the spiderverse itself like the entire world do u guys get it?!?!!?!?

i really appreciate all fo ur comments and likes n everything!!!!! im really bad at checking for those but im like so in love w every single one of u i hope u know <333

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #atsv

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cevansbrat0007 · 2 years

Text

That One Time You Were Not Okay

Summary: Our Reader is always used to being a bad ass, but what happens when she encounters something that’s simply too painful and overwhelming to deal with on her own? Will she lean on her Man? Andy Barber x Black! Reader

Please Heed These Warnings: Creepy Asshole, Protective/Angry Andrew Barber, Traumatized Reader, Workplace Sexual Harassment, Attempted Sexual Assault, Cursing, Drug Use (mentioned), Strippers (mentioned), Violence, Minors DNI

A/N: Prompt courtesy of @writer84. Please read the warnings for this one. It leans towards the dark end of things. I don’t want to inadvertantly trigger anyone. Part of my ongoing Growing Pains Series. As always, feedback is welcome and encouraged. All mistakes are my own. Thanks for reading.

___

“I don’t think I can handle even one more day of this.” You mumble to yourself as you exit your vehicle and head into a nearby office building. “If he tries one more thing, just one more thing, I’m going to staple these documents to his face.”

Yep, that’s right. It was pep talk time.

You clutch your laptop and folders to your chest as you enter the elevator and press the appropriate floor number.

See, over the course of the last month, you’d been doing some freelance work for one of your boyfriend’s longtime friends and colleagues. At first, things had been fine. But little by little, the atmosphere had begun to...shift.

It had started with light touches, like his large body standing too close to your own. Or, a brush of his fingers against your bare knee. Perhaps it was his large hands resting just a second too long on your shoulders. His hot breath whispering in your ear in what you assumed he thought was a seductive manner. Or the seemingly innocent comments he made about your hair, your body, your outfit choices.

He always seemed to choose his words carefully so that they couldn’t readily be...misconstrued. But you knew. Deep in your gut, you knew.

Each time, you had politely shrugged off his advances, thinking them mostly innocent. He knew you were engaged to Andy Barber. In fact, Andrew was the one who had reccommended that Sylvester reach out to you in the first place!

But then, he’d grown bolder. He had started suggesting that you two work late. Or, burn the midnight oil as he put it.

“You know, a true professional would stay as long as necessary to ensure the job was done right.” He’d said to you just last Friday.”Let’s order in. I’m thinking a little Dim sum, hmm? And then we can put our heads together and come up with the perfect concept.”

You had declined, of course, not liking the way the hairs on the back of your neck had stood up.

“I could’ve sworn that the client was always right, little dumpling.” He’d winked at you then.

“That’s an outdated saying, Sylvester. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with my loving fiance. I’ll see you next week.”

And then you’d left.

To be honest, the man gave you the creeps. But how could you tell Andrew that without upsetting him? So, you decided to put up with it for as long as you could. And maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to see this project through.

Head held high, you confidently stride through the front door of his business, only to find it...empty.

That was..odd.

“Well, hey there, Y/N!” Sylvester’s voice booms from the entryway of his office. “Good to see you!”

“Um,” your teeth go to nibble your lower lip. “Where is everyone?”

Warning bells were going off in your brain.

“Oh! I gave everyone the day off, sweetheart. It’s just you, me, and our work.” You can tell that he’s pitching voice to arouse. “This way, we won’t be interrupted.”

Yeah, no, you smarmy bastard.

“You know what? Maybe I should come back tomorrow. And then we can -”

“Nonsense!” He waves away your concerns, before gently gripping your arm and guiding you inside his office. He motions for you to settle in and then sinks into his chair. “I have the feeling we’re going to be here for quite a while, so I took the liberty of pulling together a few takeout menus.” He flashes his pearly white teeth.

“But before we get started, I feel like we should lay everything out on the table, Sugar.”

“Uh, in regards to the project? Because I thought that we had already established a pretty clear direction.”

“No, no, no.” He dismisses you. “I meant in regards to us.”

You visibly blanch at his words, feeling your spine stiffen. “Sylvester, there is no us.”

“Well, not yet, but I’m thinking there could be. You have to know by now that I’m...let’s just say, interested.”

“That’s great, but I’m not. So let’s get back to work, shall we?”

“Oh, darling.” He purrs. “You don’t have to be like that. Not with good ol’ Sylvester here.” The man in front of you leans forward. “Baby, I could take you to places you’ve never been before. I could send you to heaven and back.” He tries to take your small hand in his own, making you jerk away.

“Dude. I’m engaged to Andy. To your friend, goddamnit!” You could not believe the audacity of this man!

“Oh my God, Y/N, honey.” His tone is laced with a hint of mockery. “Andrew. Won’t. Give. A. Shit.”

You feel your eyes go wide. What?

“He used to pass me his girls all the time back in the day. Did I ever tell you about that one time we shared a stripper in Tijuana? Granted it was like fifteen some-odd years ago, but still. He had just passed the Bar Exam, I had just launched my first successful business. So we bought some blow and -”

Feeling sick, you stand up. “I don’t want to hear anymore.” You tell him, working hard to keep your voice steady.

Sylvester leans back in his chair, his arms going to rest behind his head.

“You can take the ring off, if it helps. But I’m ready to sample all of that brown sugar you’ve been hiding under those tight pants and flimsy skirts.” He openly leers at you, not trying to hide all of the salacious thoughts running through his head. “I’m telling you, Andrew won’t care.”

“Well, I would like to think that he would. But even if he didn’t, I do.” You nod at him. “And that’s all that matters.”

He laughs then, a deep belly laugh. “Why on earth do you think I even hired you? Yeah, your work is good. But I wanted that ass, baby. I’ve wanted it for a while actually, and you’re going to give it to me. And after we’re through I’m going to order us some dinner.”

You shake your head “no”. Just back away, girl. Slowly.

“Y/N, if you want to add this body of work to your portfolio and, oh I don’t know, collect the damned check, you’re going to sit back down.”

“Fuck you, and fuck this whole goddamned thing!” You spit back. Shit, you were going to throw up.

Sylvester rises from his seat and strides around his desk towards you.

“Stay back!” You warn him. “I mean it!” You drop your things into another chair and pick up a paperweight. “Do not come any closer.”

“So, you like it rough, huh? Makes sense.” He shrugs. “You prude bitches always do.”

You raise the hand clutching the paperweight high as fear, real fear, courses through your veins. Seconds later, he’s on you, grabbing at your arms, your waist. Squeezing roughly. And then you hit him as hard as you can.

“Ahh! You fucking cunt!” He cries out in pain as you grab your stuff and take off running out the door. You don’t stop running until you reach your car, before engaging the keyless ignition and bolting out of the parking lot.

You remain numb the entire drive home.

___

Twenty Minutes Later...

You don’t allow yourself to cry, at least not at first. You gingerly set your things on the counter and fetch yourself a glass of water. Which you proceed to stare at.

Then you walk to your office, where you shut and lock the door. And then you call your best friend.

And that’s when the sobs start.

___

“Oh my fucking God! Y/N, sweetheart! What the fuck, baby? I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Do you need me to come over? Because I will.”

“No, no. It’s okay.” You sniffle, scrubbing at your eyes. “I’m okay.”

But were you? Were you really?

“Honey, I know this is the last thing that you want to hear, but you need to tell Andy.” She tells you, her voice soft with compassion.

“But how? Sylvester is his friend! And -” You jump when you hear the sound of a door slam.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Andy was home early. Why today of all days did he have to come home early?

“He’s here!” You hiss into the phone.

“Who?!” She screeches. “That fuck, Sylvester? That’s it, I’m coming right now, Y/N. Let me find my shoes...”

“No, no. I mean Andy. Andy’s home early. And he’s going to know I’ve been crying. I can’t ever hide that shit from him!” You jump again when you hear him call your name.

Fuck!

“Talk to him, Y/N. Just talk to him. Explain what happened. He’ll understand. And then he’ll go beat that prick’s ass. And if he doesn’t, then I will.”

There’s a knock at your door.

“I - I gotta go, babe.” You whisper.

“I love you.” She tells you.

“I love you, too.” You reply before ending the call.

“Y/N, baby. Are you in there?” He tries the handle, and even without seeing his face, you know he’s surprised to find it locked.

“Uh, yeah. Hi - hi, Andy. I’m, um, just wrapping up some work.” You blot your eyes with yet another tissue.

“Okay, fine. But why the hell is the door locked?”

“Oh, uh, because it’s a super important project and I couldn’t risk being disturbed.” You bite your fist. That lie sounded, well, very much like a lie.

“But your laptop and notebook are sitting in the kitchen...” Andrew Barber’s attorney voice was starting to make an appearance. “You know what? Do me a favor and open the door for a minute.”

“Sorry.” You call out. “Super busy, baby.”

“Either open this goddamned door or I’ll take it off the hinges. It’ll take me ten minutes flat, and then you and I will have an even bigger problem.” He growls.

“Can you please just leave me alone for a little bit? I - I need to finish this thought, alright?”

Oh, why wouldn’t your Big Man just go away? Why did he always have to care so fucking much? And it was like he always picked the worst times to do it too.

“You have five seconds to get your pretty ass up and open this door. After that, I’m going to get my drill. And baby, once I take this thing off, it’s not going back on.” He informs you, his deep voice dripping with authority.

“Five.”

Oh shit.

“Four.”

Holy fuck.

“Three.”

Your man never bluffed.

“Two.”

You launch yourself towards the door, wrenching it open before he gets to one.

“It’s about goddamned time, little girl. What kind of game are you playing...” Andy trails off mid-sentence when he gets a good look at your puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. You had yet to look in a mirror, but you were pretty sure that you could pass for Rudolph the Rednose Reindeer right about now.

“I’m having an allergy attack.” You tell him with a shrug. “I’m o- I’m o-” Fuck, why couldn’t you get the words out? Oh screw it.

“Andy, I’m not okay.” You throw yourself against his big solid chest and just give in. Your bewildered fiance picks you up and carries you into the living room where he nestles you on his lap, but not before snagging another box of tissues.

“I’m so sorry!” You sob.

“Y/N, baby girl. What happened?” His voice is hard and firm. “Tell me what happened. I need to know. Now.” He gently dabs your eyes with a tissue before holding it to your nose. “Blow.” Your man instructs you.

“Good girl.” He murmurs when you do as he asks. “Now, can you talk to me? Please? Talk to me so I can figure out how to help.” Andy snuggles you close and patiently waits for you to spill your guts.

“I don’t want you to hate me.” You whisper as another set of hot tears make their way down your cheeks.

“Bullshit.” Your Big Man snarls. “That is impossible. Don’t you ever let me hear you say that again.”

“It’s...it’s Sylvester.” You murmur, staring down at your lap.

“Okay, and what happened with Sylvester? Did you hit a snag with the project or -”

You cut him off, forcing yourself to get the words out. “I think - I think. No, I know. He tried to hurt me today. In his office.” Andy’s body stiffens underneath you. To be honest, you weren’t sure he was even breathing.

“He gave all his staff the day off -” you hiccup “- so it would just be me and him. And then he told me that the only reason he even hired me was because he wanted to fuck me. And that you wouldn’t care. He told me it was going to happen one way or another. And then he told me about Tijuana, and the stripper, and the cocaine. But I said no. And then he grabbed me. So, I hit him with a paperweight, one that was on his desk, and then I ran. I ran ,Andy.”

“And I know he’s your friend, and I’m sorry, but he’s been doing little shit for weeks. Little touches, comments about what I’m wearing, trying to get me to stay late...” You start crying all over again.

“Shhh, baby. Shhh.” He runs his big hand through your curls in an attempt to soothe you. “This is not your fault, okay? Not at all. While I wish you would have said something to me sooner, I get it. I’m not mad at you. I don’t hate you. If anything, I’m proud of you for getting yourself the fuck out of there.”

Andy pulls away slightly so that he can lift your chin and look you in the eyes. “Tijuana happened, sure. But the only one enjoying blow and strippers was Sylvester. I’ve never been a fan of cheap pussy.”

You nod. “He told me to take off my ring. He told me it might make things easier.” The sound of your man’s deep growl reverberates through your entire body.

“You had better not ever take that ring off. You hear me? Try it and I’ll superglue it to your finger.” He pecks your lips. “Now, let’s get you upstairs and into a bubble bath. And then we’re going to order some sushi. And tomorrow...tomorrow I’ll deal with my sad excuse for a fucking friend.”

“Will you join me?” You ask him softly. “I don’t wanna be alone right now.”

“Absolutely, baby. Plus, I need to check you for bruises anyway.” Rising from the couch he carts you up the stairs and makes good on every single promise.

Afterall, your Big Man never bluffed.

___

The Next Day...

Andy strolls through front doors of his former friend’s business. He bypasses the man’s secretary without so much as a glance and walks right into his office.

He was apparently in a meeting with two other men. “Andrew Barber!” Sylvester stands up, his hand outstretched. Andrew just stares at it, prompting the other man to awkwardly pull it back.

“So good to see you, man. Look, I wish I could talk, but I’m kind of in the middle of something so...” He gestures toward the two men sitting on the other side of his desk.

Instead, Andy turns to face the two no-names. “Your meeting is over. Get out. Now.” Despite the rage boiling inside him, his voice remains relatively calm.

Knowing better than to protest, they both pack up their things and head towards the door. Satisfied with their exit, Andy shuts it before turning the lock so it clicks into place.

“Look, my guy, if this is about your girl’s contract...” He raises his palms in the air. “I’m sorry, but she just wasn’t turning out good work. I’m sure she knows what she’s doing and that she’s probably just a little off her game.It can happen to the best of us.” Sylvester offers him a placating smile.

“Yeah? Is that why my girl has bruises up and down her arms? Is that why her hips are tender and you’re sporting that impressive looking nugget on your head?”

“Oh, this?” He points at the raised lump on his forehead. “Man, I had a little too much to drink last night and took a tumble into a door. I’m a clumsy fuck sometimes. But, as for your girl, I’m sorry to hear that she, uh, got hurt.”

The man was starting to sweat. This made a homicidal Andy happy.

“Yeah, well, apparently she got hurt because she refused to let you sample some of her ‘brown sugar’.” Andy saunters around the desk and leans over his former friend who is beginning to tremble. “You told her to take off her ring. That I wouldn’t care about sharing her. That you were going to fuck her, regardless of what she wanted.” His voice lowers to a menacing whisper. “Even after she told you “no”. Many, many times. I’ve got real problem with all of that, my guy.”

“Look, Andrew, that - that bitch came on to me and -” Andy grabs the mans head and slams it against his desk with all his might, enjoying the sound of the sickening crunch his nose made as it collided with the wood, as well as his muffled screams of pain.

“You tried to hurt, no, not just hurt. You sent everyone here home so you could try to rape my girl.” Grabbing him by the head once again, he slams the man’s head against the desk again. And then again.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t care, Sylvester? Come on, you cannot be that stupid.” A sinister grin graces his lips at the sound of the injured man’s tears. Good. Fucking pussy.

Using one muscled leg, he knocks Sylvester’s chair over so that he’s sprawled on the ground. And then he levels the man with a hard kick to the stomach, followed by a solid kick to his groin.

His howls of pain sounded so sweet.

Andy crouches down next to him. “Let me make something very clear. If you even so much as look at my woman again, if you even breathe in her direction, I will do my damndest to make sure that that is last breath you take. And if I find out that you that you tried this with some other poor woman, I will make your life a fucking living hell.”

Pulling a cloth out of his pocket, he tosses it at the whimpering man.

“Now clean yourself up. Pathetic bitch.”

And with that, Andy turns and walks out the door. All while whistling a jaunty little tune.

END

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bellafragolina · 2 years

Note

Hello Renee dear! I was wondering how Ingo would feel about a reader who takes an interest in him and start to frequently sitting in his car to watch him battle on the singles line. Keeping an eye on him they begin to notice those little tells that shows how he feels, especially his eyes. how they light up when he’s excited and how they shine when he’s happy. Congratulating him on every win and encouraging him after any loss they start to talk more and one day tell him his eyes are beautiful when he smiles. That smile people claim he doesn’t have. If such a comment really gets the corners of his mouth to turn up a bit they tell him his smile’s like a Skitty and it’s the loveliest thing in the world! I’ve seen many an artist that when rendering the twins with the triangle mouths, if he’s able to smile a bit he gets this little :3 kitty mouth and it’s just too cute!!! He also just has such gorgeous eyes that emote so much even when his mouth can’t and that should be acknowledged and appreciated!!!Thank you so very much Renee!

I love the kitty smiles people draw him with, especially when they’re small and subtle. It’s sooooo cute and I adore it and him

🍓🍓🍓

It’s not against the rules to sit in any of the battle cars, truth be told. Very few come to sit in the last cars, though. It’s difficult to get to, with all the other cars having their battles, and the exit is out of the way of the subway, making those trying to get somewhere fast lose time trying to find their way back to the main tracks. So Ingo is surprised to find you coming into his car, just to settle into one of the seats and wait patiently with him for a challenger.

Ingo engages you with some polite small talk, but returns to his spot when a challenger comes through. He battles them, and afterwards you approach with high praise over his win. Ingo thanks you, eyes sparkling with joy at his victory, then turns to encourage the trainer to try again. You watch, and decide then and there that yes, you’ll be coming back often to watch Ingo battle

You don’t come every day. Ingo notices this when you don’t show up to several of his multi train shifts, instead choosing to stay with his single train shifts. He asks about it, having grown used to your presence in his car, and you tell him it’s work related. You have more time to sit with him on the days he runs the single trains, so Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Ingo understands, but he still glances to where you sit on the multi train, always disappointed to not see you applauding him after a win. And Emmet is starting to notice

It’s after one of his rare losses that things start to change. You’re comforting him as he sulks over the loss, and he takes your encouraging words to heart. He straightens up, his eyes bright and determined.

“There’s that beautiful smile of yours.” You say with a laugh.

Ingo is floored. He’s heard before about his lack of smile; he has complaints about it coming through all the time from new subway passengers. Even his own brother and friend Elesa tease him sometimes over his naturally dour expression. Countless nights trying to force a smile flash through his mind, nights where he practiced endlessly with no results. Yet all of that self consciousness and disappointment in himself slowly floods out of him at your simple words

Joy and giddiness burst through Ingo, forcing his back ramrod straight. And for the first time, he smiles. The corners of his mouth quirk, barely noticeable, but your keen eyes see it. They see the skitty smile the man makes seconds before he lunges forward to hug you. You’re shocked by the sudden affection, but you don’t hesitate to return it, stroking down Ingo’s spine as he shakes again you

“Thank you!” Ingo booms, the joy bleeding into his tone. “Thank you! I love your smile too!”

He doesn’t let you go for the rest of his shift, and his smile doesn’t fade for the rest of the day

🍓🍓🍓

Not included: Emmet hounding you over how you got Ingo to smile without it looking pained or forced

Hope you enjoy it, darling! Have a good night <3

~Renee

#ingo x reader #pokemon imagines #pokemon x reader #submas x reader

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hypergamiss · 6 months

Note

hello 💕

I’ll be 23 in February. My question is, what steps should I take to get a wealthy HUSBAND. I have a strong desire to be married, i have passion for this as I also don’t have big professional goals. I’ve dated wealthy men before, but they were of a lower caliber & I wouldn’t marry that type. For example, one man was a dealer I dated, took me on exotic trips and bought me things as expensive as 10k Chanel bags but was extremely toxic and too young for me. The second man was a white collar worker, respectable job yet he was an alcoholic and had a spending problem, his spending problem benefitted me, but by the end of the year he was basically broke cause he lost all his money lol. This is NOT healthy sustainable husband material to me. I live in Detroit but im moving to west palm beach Florida in a couple weeks which I know in itself will be a whole different playing field of men. I don’t have long term success with high quality white collar men as I may not fit in. I don’t need a millionaire, just someone with a high paying job and generous. I usually meet my men in clubs or online but I realize now the men of quality I want aren’t going to be there. Any tips ? 💕 I want to be a wife and out the game

Hi! I’ve said this before on here but I think it is worth repeating: I strongly recommend to wait for marriage until you’re at least 25 years of age or older. Obviously you’re going to do what you want but I want you to be aware that when you hit 25 it’s almost like you go through a second puberty and your thoughts change and even things about your body might also. I think it’s better to make life altering decisions after you have become a full grown adult because in our early 20s we simply don’t know what we don’t know. Having a passion for finding a husband while not having a life of your own will make it really hard to find one. You will continue to attract men like the ones you described above if you don’t have your own career and goals. Even if you’re not choosing a career that’s traditional, you have to be passionate about your own interests. Wealthy men tend to be bored in a way especially if they grew up with money. They’ve had many experiences and things given to them because they were simply available and they didn’t have to think about money. Even a self made man will have almost everything they’ve wanted or done what they’ve wanted to do a few years into reaching wealth. If all you have to offer is fixating on him and not being able to hold intellectual conversations he most likely will not stick around. Looks get you in the door and your personality keeps the person interested. Men love to hear you talk about your passions and see you get excited about your own projects. It’s attractive to them. I recently became friends with a wealthy 50yr old and we started talking about dating because he’s single. He said he didn’t really care what his future partner does, as long as she’s actually into something and working on something that gets her excited to start her day. He knows that a kept woman also needs to have something of her own going on or she will always be unfulfilled and unhappy with her entire life, including her marriage. Other than needing your own life/career/goals to be an interesting person this is also important so that you can be interdependent. You are independent when you need to be and you can support yourself financially. You’re dependent on a partner when it suits you, but you should always be able to leave him when your standards are not being met. Nothing gets a man to act right like a woman walking out the door the second he disrespects her. You’re on the right track by realizing that your current routine isn’t working for you. I suggest you go to places where you think you will meet your future husband during the day. Also, don’t underestimate the power of befriending young or older women who might set you up on a date with a man that they are friends with or related to.

#hypergamous lifestyle #heaux advice #heaux tips #heauxheauxheaux #heauxlife #hypergamy #level up #spoiled heaux #spoiled gf #high maintenance

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prince-rowan-of-the-forest · 11 months

Text

The Choosing Ball (4/?)

Virgil and Janus talk through some important feelings.

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Warnings:

a mention of LGBTQIA+-phobia, a singular sex joke.

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Whoo the chapter where they talk things out!

The poll voted for Siren Boy, but I've been able to do basically no writing this week, I'm really sorry xP, I hope this shall suffice!

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It turned out that finding Virgil had hardly been the gargantuan task he had been expecting. When he located the building that must have housed the guards’ sleeping quarters, he immediately picked up the sound of hushed conversation on one of the balconies. He went closer, hoping to pick up on some of whatever they were saying.

“Yeah like, I can’t believe you got to leave,” One of them said, Janus didn’t recognise the voice, “It’s so boring here- no good gossip! You gotta tell me everything, did you meet anyone? Any of the princes rude to you? Ooh- were any of them good looking?”

"Well- I-" The other guard started, before being interrupted again.

"Did you get to see any of the castle? Is it as big inside as it looks from here? What's-"

"Remy I can't answer your questions if you keep asking me more," Janus' eyes widened, that was Virgil! And- wasn't Remy the name of the guard Roman had mentioned earlier?

"Oh, right, sorry babes,"

"Don't call me that," Virgil sighed.

"Sorry, sorry, damn you Nathirians are so uptight, anyways, my questions?"

Janus sighed as Virgil attempted to work his way through the questions he remembered. He'd never get Virgil's attention from down here, which meant he'd have to climb up. He glanced around, thankfully noticing a plant with sturdy looking vines that had grown up the side of the wall.

As Janus had told Virgil, he was indeed notoriously good at sneaking, so much so that his handmaids and the seamstresses back in his own palace had started outfitting him with bells and jingly bits on his clothes in a way they thought was subtle so that he couldn't sneak up on people. Somehow he still managed to sneak up on the castle staff (by accident, mostly) even then.

The fact that he managed to make it up onto the balcony without either guard noticing him should really be testimony to his lack of presence.

Remy noticed him first, though Janus couldn't actually see his reaction behind the dark tinted glasses he was for some reason wearing despite it being entirely dark out. He ignored the guy for now, instead stepping forward to stand right behind Virgil.

"Guess who," Janus said, before slipping his hands over his guard's eyes. Virgil jumped in surprise, though he'd deny it if asked, making Janus laugh.

"Jan, you have got to stop doing that!" Virgil yelped, reaching to remove his hands from his face, "What're you doing up here?"

"Ooooh babes, who's the sneaky guy?" Remy asked, leaning forwards, "Who are you and what's your business here?"

Virgil groaned, "Remy this is Jan, Jan, Remy, this is the guy I told you about earlier, with the coffee,"

"I see," Janus said as though he hadn't just been eavesdropping, "It is.. er, nice meeting you?"

"Riiiight," Remy said, staring him down, "Ok sure, y'know what, obviously you two don't want me here, I'll see you inside, Virgil! I better get all the juicy gossip about your juicy man when you're done!"

Remy headed into the room connected to the balcony and Janus turned to begin speaking with Virgil before the door flew back open and Remy leant back out.

"And no sex on the balcony!" He yelled, making an 'I’m watching you' gesture with his fingers, "Or I'll know,"

"....I can tell how he's Prince Remus' guard," Janus said, watching as Remy retreated down the hallway. Virgil huffed out a breath that could have been a laugh as they turned to each other.

"He won't leave me alone," Virgil said, half laughing, "He seems to think me interesting."

Janus hummed, looking away and Virgil seemed to sense that something was wrong, considering he leaned further into his side.

“Hey,” Virgil said, slipping a hand into Janus', “What’s up? Is something wrong?”

“I wanted to see you before going to sleep,” Janus answered, half truthfully, he wouldn’t admit how worried he had been, he already knew that Virgil already knew.

“I see,” Virgil said with a smile, leading them over to the balcony railing and leaning his elbows on it, Janus copied him, “Did- um- did anything interesting happen during the banquet?”

An invitation to talk about what he really wanted to talk about, without having to bring it up himself.

“I talked with Roman again,” Janus said slowly, “After the banquet, we went to the library and…. I took your advice,”

“You showed him?” Virgil asked, looking at him with a slight tilt to his head, “Was he… okay with it?”

“Yes, I believe so,” Janus said, “He told me I was beautiful and- well I suppose I may have ran off,”

Virgil had the audacity to laugh, so Janus pulled him into a kiss in order to shut him up, which only served to make Virgil laugh harder.

“Virgil, darling, please,” Janus said, a little desperately and Virgil immediately stopped laughing, turning to actually look at him, before he reached forward and cupped Janus’ face in the same way Roman had done not even half an hour earlier.

“This… this is really bothering you, isn’t it?” Virgil whispered, Janus nodded, meeting Virgil’s eyes.

“I’m not sure why, but… my interaction with Roman has got me feeling all tied up in knots,” Janus said with a sigh. Virgil smirked, leaning forwards and kissing his nose.

“Have you considered that perhaps, there may be some kind of feelings there?” Virgil asked, tilting his head a little, Janus stared for a second, face steadily growing more red as he realised what Virgil was implying.

“I- of course there's no feelings there, Virgil, I love you, and I doubt I'm going to stop loving you any time soon,” Janus said firmly, Virgil smiled, leaning forward and kissing him again.

“I know, and I love you too, but Jan, have you considered that you are able to love more than one person? That polyamory is a possibility?” Virgil asked, raising an eyebrow. The prince sputtered, “Because… If you have, I have,”

“I- I suppose that-” Janus cut himself off, ducking his head, “Isn’t that… inappropriate? Our kingdom would never sanction it, you know that, and besides, Roman would never agree anyway, it’s a waste to even bother thinking about it.”

“From what I’ve gathered from Remy,” Virgil told him, “Polyamory, and a lot of other stuff too, is much less restrictive in their kingdom than it is in ours.”

“Regardless, in our kingdom it is still the same, and I am an only child, if me and Roman did choose each other, we would go back to our kingdom.”

“Where it wouldn’t be seen as polyamory anyway because they don’t know that we’re already in a relationship,” Virgil told him, squeezing Janus’ hand, “It would be only Roman that would need to know.”

“And what if he doesn’t even like me?”

“Then he’ll say no and you will never have to see each other again,” Virgil sighed, “And you’ll still have me either way.”

“And… you’re okay with all of this?” Janus asked, “We would be breaking the law even more than we already are, you know, and- and I'd have to marry him, without you there, it would- it would all be so much harder- ”

“I know,” Virgil interrupted, leaning over to kiss his cheek, “Trust me I've already over-thought this ten times more than you have, and I- would like to talk with Roman more, yes, but- you know, he is… very pretty…”

“Is he now?” Janus asked, tone slipping into something more teasing, “I didn’t notice.”

“Don’t be an ass,” Virgil rolled his eyes, looking out from the balcony towards the castle, “The ball is tomorrow and- I think you should talk to him before that.”

“And say what?” Janus said with a huff, “That I- what? Like him? After- after I ran off at the first signs of anything happening earlier?”

“Just say whatever you feel like saying,” Virgil said, “But maybe try and keep the running away to a minimum, huh?”

“You’re a hypocrite,” Janus said, “Why don’t you talk to him if you think he’s so pretty?”

Virgil went red, “Well- I- you- hey!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Janus shook his head, “That was mean of me.”

“It was, I need to talk to him too, but it’s probably better that you do so first,” Virgil sighed, “Even if really I’m probably more worried than you seem to be.”

“Worried? Me? Never,” Janus said, shaking his head with a smile, before his face fell and he sighed, “I know I need to talk to him, we’re the ones that need to choose, after all.”

“Yes,” Virgil nodded, “And if you agree to choose each other then you’ll have all the time in the world to talk after as well.”

“I suppose we will,” Janus nodded, “Thank you, for this.”

“You’re welcome,” Virgil said, “I suppose it’s fair, considering I’m usually on the receiving end of these talks.”

Janus couldn’t help but laugh, then, lifting their intertwined hands to kiss Virgil’s knuckles, “I should be getting back…”

“I’ll see you after breakfast tomorrow then?” Virgil aske, tilting his head a little.

“Of course,” Janus nodded, “I think I might die if I had to endure tomorrow without you, my darling.”

“Sap,” Virgil said, shaking his head with a huff, “Go away now, and sleep well.”

“Sleep well, love.” Janus replied, leaning forward to press a parting kiss to Virgil’s lips, “Goodnight.”

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Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @reptilianrapscallion420 @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)

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#sanders sides #rowans writings #janus sanders #anxceit #virgil sanders fanart #sanders sides fanfiction #fanfic

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ashestogolddust · 1 year

Note

Could you maybe do a part two of the demon slayer and avengers crossover where the reader explains to them that they’re a demon slayer but everyone thinks they’re crazy until they encounter a demon from readers world and try to fight it but reader is the only one who can stop it

Yeah sure! Sorry that I posted this late! I just move out to a new apartment and start attending my Uni for the first time! Crazy weeks... Now, to the story!

@yanathesimp

@riri53

@deepmakerlove

@rymtea

@vph

Part 2 Demon Slayer x Avengers

"Demons don't exist. From the sound of it, I think you either dealing with mutants or enhanced human."

Tony said, cutting Y/N off again, earning an annoyed look.

"Humans that eat other humans?"

"Yeah... Cannibalism is a true issue."

Y/N groaned at this. It has been a week since she met both Avengers tean. And Tony had invited her to live with what reminds of his team at the Avengers Tower. Of course, T'Challa had invited her to Wakanda and Steve try to convince her to come with the King but she refused. After hearing from both team perspective on the Civil War, she decided that Captain America is a good man, but he just screwed a lot of countries by choosing his friend instead of the people. She respect him, really. Not to mention, she grown to fond of Peter, Aunt May and his friends.

Multiple times now, Y/N has demonstrate her Breathing Technique and Tony had done various experiment and checks up on her. So far, all he can conclude was a weird unknown energy residues in her body. He did find it was interesting that whenever Y/N used her Breathing Technique, her lungs will expand and her heart will pump faster than it humanly should. The Rogue Avengers been dropping by the current Avengers HQ a lot, saying they were checking on her. But none of them, except for Peter, believes her when she told them about demons. Until...

"5 women were found mauled near the train station last night. Victims seemed to be maul to death..." Y/N's eyes widened at the news.

Bruce, who was sitting next to her immediately turn off the TV, glancing at her with unhidden concern. Tony was the one to speak and broke the sudden silent.

"You're okay there?"

"I... Uh, yeah."

Eyes fixated on the now darken screen, she turn to her friends.

"I think you might want to look that over."

-Time Skip-

Of course, they didn't look into it until it was too late. Y/N still getting used to everything in the new world she in but decided to take matters into her own hand, when not only the authority but both Avengers didn't acknowledge her warnings and went off to face the demon, with non-Nichirin made weapon, no demon poison or wisteria. That night, she pretended to go to sleep early when the Avengers were gearing up after half-heartedly agree to work together to capture the new 'supervillain' that was claimed to have magical abilities and able to regenerate any lost limb. Bruce seems to be the only convinced of what she had told him but knew it was too late to get anything that could help them. Instead, he sneaked in her Nichirin katana and her demon slayer uniform along with her haori, which she is grateful for.

After they left, she immediately changed into her uniform, slipping on her haori and strapped her katana to her waist. Then, she makes haste to the suburbs area, following FRIDAY's instructions. Jumping from one roof to another then running off on the road, leaving flame-like trails behind her as she did. When she reached the area, she almost let out of a sigh of relief. Despite the odd and her arriving a few seconds late (she was lost for a bit) the Avengers, both sides, are still alive despite injured. The Demon was smart enough to knock out those with magical abilities like Wanda, Bruce, and Thor first, leaving some of the team had to stay to guard their fallen comrade.

"Hey, demon!!"

She shouted, getting it's attention away from Natasha who froze when she saw the younger woman.

"A Demon Slayer?!" The thing hissed.

"Blood Demon Art: Shadow Hands!" Shadow hands sprout from beneath the demon, throwing the Avengers away from the or simply pinned them to any surface.

Y/N frowned, before immediately withdrawn her katana.

"You can't stopped me, wench! I have eaten a lot of people!! I'M AS STRONG AS AN UPPERMOON NO-" His words were cut off when he realizes his body dropped to the ground, head cut off and rolling away, the young woman standing behind him, swiping remains of the demon blood away before sheathing her katana, face unimpressed and passive.

"I didn't want to talk. I'm not your therapist, so shut up."

The demon growled and cursed while Y/N stared it down, amused. The Avengers gaped, watching as the demon body slowly scatters into dust, leaving with not a single thing behind. As if it never did exist in the first place. Y/N sighed before turning to them.

"That demon, despite eating so many people, still can't be considered as strong. If it was near the strength of the high ranked demon, I would have struggle more... With that being said..." She hold out hand to Tony was about to get up.

Tony sighs before grabbing her hand and letting himself being pulled to his feet, slightly shocked how easily she did so before she continues to talk, turning to look at all of them with a wide smirk.

"And still... You guys did a good job on holding it back... Do you guys believe me now?"

No one dare to says anything as the young woman turned around to look at the slowly lighten horizon with a look of relief.

#kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #crossover #kny #avengers x y/n

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princesseevee06 · 8 months

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hello bestie i was wondering if you could give us a lil more info on ytr nao? im interested in how she functions in mishima’s role. apologies if you already discussed this in another post i have the memory of a large stone or perhaps a clod of dirt

hi bestie!!!! i am happy to expand on ytr nao i love her :D i just haven’t talked about her much because she uh. Dies pretty quickly but she is there and she is lovely!!!

so my main idea for her took inspiration from one of the ytts endings (do not take my word for it i only have a very vague idea of what happens since i’ve never played ytts) where it shows like a grown-up nao who’s become an art teacher. i really wanted to borrow this idea because i found it so interesting :< so she still acts similar to her canon self she’s just a bit older and more mature. i’d like to imagine she’s just starting out as a teacher and so she’s got those first-day-on-the-job nerves and then gets. Goddamn kidnapped

also nao is a candidate in this au so that’s an important note! the girlie was Supposed to be kidnapped this time

one of the most important scenes containing nao in this au is that in place of mishima comforting kanna, nao comforts kugie here. it’s a bit different: she doesn’t lie about her not being able to save kanna (mostly cause that’s not in her personality and because kugie like 99% would not believe that) but instead she focuses on the time kugie and kanna spent together. basically she says something to the effect of: just like how kugie would be there to support kanna whenever she was upset, everyone else wants to be there for kugie because something so awful has happened to her. nao recognizes that she’s a complete stranger to kugie, but she also doesn’t want to sit idly while kugie grieves her sister. this really touches kugie, and for the first time she feels comfortable to show some vulnerability around the other participants.

(there’s also the parallel of when kugie says this same type of thing to comfort ryoko later on ;-;)

oh……..and the second trial. poor nao, who the heck would even vote for her? well-

mishima still suggests to nao that they should vote for each other, hoping to protect his former student when he actually votes for himself. BUT instead of blindly voting for him like he asked, nao also considers: couldn’t it be dangerous if professor mishima gets the most votes? and because she doesn’t want to endanger HIM, SHE ALSO JUST. VOTES FOR HERSELF. THEY BOTH VOTE FOR THEMSELVES 😭

meanwhile, on the other side of the room, there is one person who already knows how the second trial works. our favorite little sou hiyori. he’s ran ai tests countless times, he’s seen this play out. nao votes for mishima, mishima votes for mishima. and he assumes the same will happen here. so he thinks: it would be boring and meaningless for a death to happen here so quickly, i’ll just tie the votes. so thinking there’s no way he could possibly be incorrect, he tells shin to vote for nao and also does so himself.

but….the AIs are outdated here. and this death game is strangely…different. so nao ends up receiving those three votes, and yeah she uh. Uhh. Uh <.<

that isn’t the “last” we see of nao though!!! there’s still the nao ai on the third floor and she’s an absolute sweetheart. but man, nao’s death makes mishima feel so guilty. he feels like he failed in his duty to keep her safe, and he’s devastated about it. but this is a nao post not a mishima post so i will talk more about him another time

tbh, this post is making me realize how many times i’ve put in a scenario where a character doing something selfless/doing something out of love ends up dooming them, but it’s also SO important to their character that they choose that option anyways. like for example, if nao here listened to mishima she would’ve survived, but it’s also important to show her growth in not just wanting to find security in others, but wanting to BE that security for other people and keep them safe.

#my AU makes me so sad.#princesseevee answers #yttd #your turn ryoko #nao egokoro

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yourmomxx · 2 years

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warnings: mentions of sex, corruption kink, praise kink, age gap

Your father had the tendency for hosting all different sorts of events. Galas, gatherings, parties, whatever he desired.

He was quite famous for them, too.

He enjoyed the attention they brought him. He craved the people’s flattery and praise, may it be for the recent decorations, the appetizers - or you.

After all, an unmarried woman with no partner, of a somewhat wealthy family and a beauty so stunning it made every man stop dead in their tracks, was worth complimenting.

You did not pay attention to them. They all had the same slow, pompous way of talking, using difficult words to prove that they somewhat knew more than you, that they were rich and respected businessmen that you should never be able to deny.

And they bored you.

Which is why you did them the favor of conversing with them for a little while, before putting them aside like worn-out jewelry. Or at least, you did that to most of them.

The tall man with the blond hair was one of your father’s ‘guests of honor’. You did not know his name. He never told you it. He never tells you much about himself, really.

But the truth is, as long as a person chooses the right words and gestures to use, you do not even realize how little you in reality know about them. Or you do not care.

Somewhere, in the back of your head, you were aware that what you were doing with him was wrong. Corruption of a woman before marriage. If anyone were to find out, it would bring disgrace upon both you and your father.

But you could not help it, he had you hooked on him like a helpless fish on a rod.

From the moment he had met you, he had lured you in, whispering smallest things in your ear, praises and compliments that made your heart beat faster and your head spin.

It did not take long until he first had touched you. Really touched you. Tender and lingering where he would graze your skin, dreams at day and in the night filled with the hoarse rasp of his voice that promised to take care of you.

A woman should have her husband take her innocence from her. But instead you had given it to a tall, elder man with sunglasses who vowed to gift you the world if you asked. A grown man that was an associate of your father, but that took care of you in all the right ways.

He offered you the attention your father did not, and he gave it to you in a way no other man would ever be able to.

Whenever he attended your father’s get-together’s, the two of you would sneak quick glances or touches between one another, although you would sometimes catch him staring at you shamelessly.

Just as he was right now. Standing tall next to your father, he was holding a drink in his right hand, and watched you as you were politely conversing with one of your father’s female work associates.

You were wearing a black dress which’s fabric laid on your body like a second skin. A dress that you were wearing nothing underneath, he knew, because he had your panties stuffed deep into the pocket of his dress pants.

Your father was talking to him, he vaguely noticed even though he wasn’t listening, too focused on you while he thought of the things that had been a few hours ago, and which would be again as soon as he caught you in an available position.

When you suddenly started making your way over to the two men, he realized that your father had his hand reached out for you in a silent command to come over.

“Y/N, lovely, would you not want to offer our guest a bite of our appetizers?” He said.

“Of course father.” You nodded at his request with a slight smile and moved away from them, only to return a moment later with a silver plate in your hand, stacked with different kinds of canapés and caviar.

He waved his hand thanks when you held the plate out for him. “I’m afraid I have to deny you,” he said apologetically, “But I don’t need anything to eat for now.”

Your father patted his friend on the back. “Ah, come on now,” he said, “A bit of space is always for those delicious mini-bites. Come on Y/N, you tell him.”

You nodded your head agreeing. “Indeed there is, father.”

The blond man denied again and your father threw you a look, so you held the plate up a bit closer to the honored guest’s face.

“Oh please sir, I beg of you,” you said, and batted your eyelashes at him with an ambiguous smile.

It amazed him, how you were able to speak those words in such an innocent fashion, when you had said the same to him just a few hours ago, on your knees with wide blown pupils and drool dripping from your chin.

His mouth twisted into a grin, whether it be from your words or his memories, one would not know, and he reached for the hors d'oeuvres.

“Well then, how could I say no?”

You beamed up at him as he put one of the small bites full of caviar in his mouth.

Your smile was sweet. And you were so polite. So flawless.

Anyone who would see you like this would never think of any sort of evil in you.

But he knew different, as soon as he had you all to himself in a small room where no one could hear you. When he would bend you over and make you suffer from bliss, would force your eyes open to see you fall apart under him, and would then send you back into the crowd and make you pretend as if nothing had happened, when he was still dripping out of you, slowly down your leg.

Your father reaching for the hors d’oeuvres interrupted the eye contact between you and him, drawing your attention to your father again.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said, raising the canapé he picked, and you knew you were dismissed. You nodded polite goodbyes to both of them and left.

The tall man’s sunglassed eyes followed you, paying specific attention to the way your hips moved in the heels.

“I have actually been trying to find a husband for her,” your father suddenly told him, as they watched you get caught up next to a brunette man that looked around your age. You were smiling up at him with a drink in your hand, while he talked to you about probably the most dull topics one could possibly talk about.

“Oh I’m sure she charms them all,” he replied, smiling politely. A frown settled in between your father’s eyebrows and his eyes turned thoughtful. He meant he had seen worry in them for just a mere second.

“They are all swooning over her, indeed, but none of them seem to spike her interest enough.” Your father shook his head. “They all treat her very nicely but she always finds something to complain about them.”

The blond man raised his glass to his lips. “Is that so?”

He looked back in your direction, just to find your gaze already fixated on him, and locked eyes with you.

He watched you swirling your tongue around the olive slightly longer than necessary, before you slowly bit down.

He watched as your fingers ever so steadily went up and down the elegant glass, around the rim, before you set it to your lips.

“I just don’t understand, because she has always been so lovely to everyone,” your father continued. He had not noticed the exchange between his daughter and his long-time friend, being too busy staring into the depths of his nearly empty cocktail glass.

The man almost scoffed at this pathetic excuse of a human being. In the end, he did not.

Your father was right. You were sweet. Lovely. Or at least you had been. Before he had come along. Flashing bright smiles, charming every man around you with your grace.

Daddy’s perfect girl.

But now you were his. And of course none of them could ever possibly compare to him. To the things he whispered in your ear in the dark of an abandoned room, the feeling of his touch lingering on your body even days after, the thrill of being caught doing something as sinful as you were.

To the way he told you how perfect you were, because he could feel it, could feel you, and how there was no one that would ever be able to compare to your body around his.

With every sweet word his hypnotic voice said to you, he wrapped you even deeper into his grasp. Not that you would ever want to free yourself of it.

No, he had made you reliant upon him. Absolutely cock-drunk, for him. And he wouldn’t let you go just like that.

He had given you a taste of hell. And now he was planning to drag you down all the way.

#I just want a rich white man to take care of me okay #the corinthian #the corinthian imagine #the corinthian x reader #the corinthian smut #dc comics #the sandman #the sandman imagine #the sandman netflix #the sandman spoilers #netflix the sandman #morpheus #dream of the endless #yourmomxx #the corinthian fic #the sandman fic #the sandman smut

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landthatplane-blog · 1 year

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Random DR thoughts Part 34.5 - jk. Latest thoughts -

Who do people keep saying Daniel won't be back or this is his last F1 race ever? He needs the year off - he's explicitly said so. I hope even Jenson Button (clearly cares for DR but also hasn't helped by criticizing him publically) seems to finally get it. Loved how passionate Jenson is about him and his belief in Daniel, but he should just be a friend or speak privately) or publically acknowledge nobody knows what could happen. You can just see and hear it in Daniel's interviews. Man is ready to take a 2-month nap.

The truth is the same teams that are avail currently like Haas, Williams (and more) will still be there. For them to get someone of Daniel's caliber, the door will always be open. Daniel specifically said it isn't about Haas/Williams. And has stated if he gets in a car now, and doesn't have the spirit and fight needed and ends up in another failed campaign, his F1 career would be over anyways. He admitted he can't keep on weight from the stress. For the 10 years before he handled the stress beautifully, clearly this is an outlier. Can people please listen to him?

Clearly trying to maintain professionalism for the team/this year is taking its toll. Notice he did not thank or mention Zak or Andreas in his letter (nor did Zak post about DR today). He's started to slip by mentioning the contract situation during interviews - like we can't avoid talking about it. The truth is everyone's tired of maintaining everything's ok. Again - do I wish McLaren or even journalists would acknowledge McLaren's role more? Only Sebastian Vettel has dared to make such a remark. Everyone dances around it. Much easier to critize Daniel, then hold the team accountable for having gone about the process so terribly. No one wants to make enemies so everyone just skirts around. He, again, like a grown up, accepted responsibility for poor results. What is heartening is clearly the McLaren team love Daniel. I love that he and Lando found a way to, it seems, have a genuine friendship! In any event, EVERYONE is tired of maintaining the elephant in the room.

He just needs a break.

If Magnusson and Hulkenberg can bump into these team sideways and manage to find seats after 2-3 years away, why wouldn't Daniel have a chance to do so? I'm sure a DR at 100% in 2024, should he decide he wants to, will be fine. I kind of can't wait for him to be a menace during specific races in 2023 once he's had some time! Of course, his choices at top teams are limited, but the market will always have movement, and while re might not be better, one can only hope!

I saw some takes on here that did make me sad. Daniel should be able to have the same kind of send off as Seb or Kimi -it's true. Heartbreaking. I'm choosing to believe this isn't the actual end. If they started the send offs now, it would feel like a true ending. He does however eventually deserve a proper send off!

Fantasy thinking (for fun, joke): Max wants him back as a teammate, he'll clearly make it so!! I mean, that hug today 🥺?? Alonso and Stroll Sr and Jr will for sure have issues. Don't think Alonso thought through this move. If he's already pissed about Alpine/Esteban - why put yourself in a place where you have to work with your boss' son?! As sometime who has to work with a nepotism hire, trust, you can't win! Starting to feel like I’m writing 2023 DTS scenes. Ha. Someone said a lot of people on the grid need to be on their best because Daniel is a good option - and they do!

People forget F1 isn't singularly about the sport/results. It is a money driven business, and Daniel's value - in addition to his skills -come into okay as well. It would be curious to better understand how impactful it is.

(Ok, off soap box. Even as this entire day has been a dumpster fire of emotions.)

#daniel ricciardo #dr3 #danny ric #f1 #formula 1

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snowdice · 1 year

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Moving Forward; Moving In (Part 2) [Relabeled; Refiled Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan/Patton

Characters: Patton, Logan

Summary:

After the events of Gaps in His Files, Patton and Logan are engaged, but they still have a lot to work through in their relationship. They’re willing to put in the work for each other even when it’s hard.

Notes: Hurt/comfort-y, Past child abuse/neglect, Patton is trying desperately to heal from his childhood and is doing fairly well, but his thoughts sometimes start the spiral

This is part of the Labeled Universe dealing with events set before my story Sometimes Labels Fail. It is set after Gaps in His Files.

Part 1

Patton eyes instinctively went to a familiar table in the corner of the Hideout. Its usual occupant was not seated in his normal seat, but there was plenty of evidence of his recent and imminent usage of the spot. Logan’s coat was hung on the back of the chair and his planner was on the table set off to the right side with a blue pen on top. A half full coffee cup sat near where his left hand would lay. There was a stack of ungraded papers sitting directly in front of the seat with another smaller stack of likely already graded papers upside down beside it.

Noting that, Patton’s eyes went to the place most people’s probably would have first upon entering the café, the front counter. He instantly spotted the man he’d been looking for.

Logan was accepting a mug and a small plate from David. He noticed Patton when he turned to return to his table.

“Hello,” he said with a smile and, Patton couldn’t help but smile back. “I ordered you a coffee and bagel.”

Patton shouldn’t be surprised by this really. Logan knew what Patton typically ordered perhaps better than he did himself. For most of his life, Patton had thought he tended to order different foods and drinks on a whim, but Logan seemed to be able to detect some unknown pattern in what he’d usually choose that Patton couldn’t quite see himself. He was spot on almost all of the time. If Patton didn’t already know his powers were telekinesis, he’d expect the man was reading his mind.

Yet even though he had no business being surprised, he found a way every time. In a good way. Mostly.

He had had to talk to Dr. Campbell about how sometimes things like that made Patton feel uncomfortable, almost guilty or like he was about to get into trouble. They’d come to the conclusion that he’d grown up in an environment where he’d had to be hypersensitive to the needs and whims of others or face anger and resentment. That made having someone anticipate Patton’s needs and wants sometimes feel bad either because he felt like he’d failed and became a burden, or he was hurting the other person since doing things like that for others had often been a stressful experience for Patton.

Logan liked to do those sorts of things though. He was not always good at picking up on things like emotional cues but accounted for that by learning about the people he cared for. Being willing to learn about Patton enough to anticipate his needs was a sign of his highest esteem. Patton was working on thinking he deserved this esteem or at least knowing that he should think he deserved it.

Today was one of his better days. The coffee and bagel in Logan’s hand made him smile.

“Thank you, sweetie. That sound perfect right now,” Patton told him. He let Logan lead him over to the table and sat down at the seat Logan was already setting the plate and mug in front of.

Logan sat after him and took a sip of his own coffee before picking up the pen to continue grading.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Patton ate his bagel. It was a blueberry bagel with a honey walnut cream cheese which paired well with the walnut flavored coffee Logan had ordered him.

Patton slid his foot forward slightly so his and Logan’s shoes bumped. Logan glanced up at him and smiled at him briefly before going back to grading. He used to just ignore if Patton did something like that, thinking either Patton kicked him on accident or him not moving away was adequate communication that he didn’t mind the touch. Patton had… not taken it that way. It had eventually been brought up with the relationship therapist. Now Logan always made sure to somehow tell Patton he was happy with the contact.

It was probably about 10 minutes later when Logan put his pen aside and glanced up at him. Patton had finished his bagel and was currently sipping his coffee. He looked at Logan when Logan looked at him.

“We should revisit the topic of moving in together,” he said.

Patton quickly set down his coffee before spilling it in surprise. He shouldn’t really be taken aback that this was being brought up now. After all, the topic of them moving in together at some point had been a repeated topic that came up in couples therapy ever since the first time the subject had been broached. Yet, Patton couldn’t help but panic slightly at the prospect that “some point” might be “now.”

“Is now a good time to discuss it?” Logan asked.

“Uh,” Patton said. “It’s a better than most time.”

The lack of a direct answer seemed to throw Logan off, and he didn’t reply for a long moment.

“Yes, um,” Patton said. “Now’s fine. My apartment lease is up at the end of June.”

“Mine ends at the end of July,” Logan told him.

“Did you want me to move in with you?” Patton asked, recalling the conversation from months ago.

“It was the initial suggestion considering my place is closer to the hospital and you often end up sleeping there anyway. However, perhaps it would be better to start somewhere new on neutral grounds.”

“Maybe,” Patton said, fiddling with the handle of his coffee cup. “I don’t know.”

Which would be better, he wondered. If Patton moved into Logan’s place, Logan would have to adjust to Patton being in his space, but if they moved somewhere else Logan would have to adjust to being somewhere new. Logan was bringing up the topic of a new space, so maybe that’s what he wanted or maybe he was just taking the advice of the therapist and didn’t actually want to move. Patton was pretty sure the phrase “neutral grounds” was a direct quote from their therapist. Patton looked at Logan trying to read the answer off his face. Logan just titled his head at him.

Or maybe, Patton thought. Logan was an adult who knew his own opinion and wanted Patton’s opinion.

“I like your apartment,” Patton said. “It’s in a nice area and is close to the hospital and the university. I’m not sure if we’d find something as good, especially since the college students are probably already snagging the good places.”

Logan nodded. “We could perhaps still look and see if there is anything better suited, but I am not opposed to staying in the same apartment. I could easily get you added to the lease for the coming leasing period.”

“Okay,” Patton said. Then he thought for a moment. “You can look for apartments and tell me if you like one,” he said. “I think trying to look for something myself would stress me out, so I’d like to not be involved if I have the option. If that’s okay?”

“Of course,” Logan replied. “We both know I enjoy that type of task more than you do anyway.”

“Great,” Patton said. “So… this summer then.”

“This summer,” Logan agreed.

Patton took a breath and then went back to his coffee. The idea of committing to moving in with each other was a bit terrifying, but it might also be nice. At least he had a bit of time to adjust to the idea.

Want to read more? Click below!

Labeled Master Post.

My Masterpost.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #logicality #relabeled; refiled #labeled universe #adriana writes #past child abuse #past child neglect

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blue-sunflower-bee · 1 year

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Life outside the parable

Like I mentioned in previous posts, the figurines ending made me think of another theory. This is gonna be a long post I guess so the whole thing will be under the cut

While some fans made Normalverse AUs where Stanley and The Narrator were normal humans that lived outside the parable, or escaped the parable together and then lived a normal life, I had a different thing in mind.

What if Stanley and Narrator indeed were normal human beings:

Stanley a normal office worker that loved to work in his own garden and Narrator being an author whose special hobby was programming little things like websites/apps etc? And he was so passionate about it, even dreamed to develop a whole game one day... But he was skeptical. Was he good enough? Should he really risk it? What if the critics would all be negative? Luckily, Stanley was there to encourage him and practically make the decisions for him.

"I was passionate, I was skeptical. I weighed each devision with profound thoughtfulness. And then somewhere along the way, I stopped making decisions. I became lazy. And I came up with- well... A character named Stanley to do my thinking for me."

What if they lived a perfectly normal life together, you may choose if they lived as romantic partners, roommates or best friends...

But what if one day Stanley grew ill and died, left the Narrator behind, who felt like he was drowning in loneliness and grief?

"Why did I invent Stanley? Was I lonely? Yes, perhaps that's it. Perhaps I needed to imagine I had companionship."

But he still had his project, sth Stanley had encouraged him to actually implement. And so he did. He put a lot of effort into it, a lot of his time to distract himself from his grief and pain..and then the thought came to him... Why not honor Stanley and his impact and make him a character in the game?

A little NPC which he could built after the real Stanley...but the more time he spend to create the model of his Stanley, the more he thought...

Why not make his Stanley the protagonist? Who needed Mariella, Employee 432 or the Curator?

His Stanley deserved to be the main character in his game, without him it wouldn't even exist...

And suddenly, this wasn't a game about a woman called Mariella anymore, it become the story of a man named Stanley, it wasn't a game for the public anymore, it became his own private game.

His chance to spend have some more time with his Stanley...

And he loved his protagonist, he really did, even tho he let him go through hell in some endings...but wasn't that only fair after Stanley had been so cruel, enough to leave him alone so early?

"And Stanley really did make for a wonderful companion. Even if he was a fiction."

He was able to lie to himself for the longest time. That this companion was enough. That Stanley was still there... Didn't even visit his grave, cause to him, it didn't exist.

He lived in that stage of denial for a long time, until the wall of lies got more and more cracks.

It wasn't the same. It missed the warmth, the intimacy of a real companion. It wasn't enough.

And he knew the dependency on his protagonist wasn't healthy. But it was his way of dealing with Stanley's death until he was ready to properly say goodbye.

"But I suppose it's grown old now. I want to think for myself again. I want to go back to how it used to be. Yes, I can be on my own again. I can do it."

And so he did. After he let Stanley have one last run in the office, he deleted the game... And instead of trying to deal with his grief with fictional protagonists...he started writing about it. About his feelings. And he visited Stanley's grave, put some of his favorite flowers there...and talked to him... Even tho he knew no one was there to answer...

Some more fun facts about this AU:

In this AU, Stanley had a dog he had called Bucket. Narrator had challenged him to give him a ridiculous name, and well... The dog was a gift from Narrator cause Stanley was struggling with panic attacks and he thought the dog may have a calming effect. And it did

They have a little garden with a lemon tree and Stanley almost planted all the flowers himself. He jokingly called it the memory zone cause the Narrator used to sit there and flip through old photo albums or book scripts, usually becoming quite sentimental.

The Narrator's real name is Nathan, but during the time he was developing the Stanley Parable, he got so used to referring to himself as The Narrator that he had almost forgotten it or barely uses it.

I hope you don't hate me because 9f the angst lol

#Tsp #Tspud #The Stanley Parable #the stanley parable ultra deluxe #Story idea #Tsp narrator #tsp stanley #Grief #Freedom Ending #Figurine ending

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singofsolace · 1 year

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Thoughts on The Rebound (2009)

You know what’s messed up? Double standards in Hollywood and film. Double standards, and a heaping bucket of irony, is what’s messed up.

I’m currently watching Catherine Zeta-Jones as Sandy in The Rebound, who, at the reckoning/climax of the movie, is brought to heartfelt tears because she feels she has to end her loving, healthy, and enthusiastically consensual relationship with her 25 year-old nanny at 40 years old (after an emotional-whiplash reveal of a pregnancy they thought was viable turning out to be ectopic) because the relationship “doesn’t make sense” and “will never work” due to their age difference... meanwhile, in real life... Catherine Zeta-Jones started a relationship with a 53 year-old man when she was 28, and has been married to that same man for 23 years…?

Like, this whole movie’s “dilemma” of a 40 year old woman with a 25 year old man would be a lot more convincing if they hadn’t cast Catherine Zeta-Jones in this role…? Like… what??? (Should I be able to ignore that it's CZJ? Maybe. But I can't.)

After all, Justin Bartha is playing a grown ass adult who has already been married in the plot of the movie. He’s not a child, and shouldn't be treated like one…? He also has other profitable job offers, which he originally turns down, but could (and does) canonically still return to, so the issue of Sandy technically being his boss, and the relationship being improper for that reason, rather than just the age difference being the problem, is basically a non-issue, because he literally has a better job offer on the table from the beginning, and is choosing to work for her instead, but could leave at any time if he wanted to.

And then at the end, they act like a five year time jump solves the problem? Which, if they'd actually established that Aram was profoundly emotionally immature and not ready for fatherhood/had growing up to do, I would be somewhat more accepting of the argument that him traveling the world for five years (in an admittedly weird and gross eat-pray-love white-savior montage of clips) and turning 30 really is the "magic" number that makes this relationship okay... but that's not the story they wrote? They wrote a grown man who said himself that he was ready for fatherhood, and genuinely wanted to be with this woman, regardless of age...?

I think if they wanted the 15-year age difference between grown ass adults to be a genuine problem and source of conflict, they should've made different writing (and casting!!) choices, for goodness sake...? Like show all the moments where the age difference becomes a problem--the moments where they clearly aren't compatible because they don't understand each other's references, or because Aram wants more children and Sandy doesn't because she feels she's too old, or something. Instead, they show us two people who seem incredibly sweet and happy with one another, who are largely on the same page about what they want, but the one "immature" thing highlighted about Aram is that he reads Harry Potter books...?

God. I'm so annoyed that this movie got made the way it did without people questioning these things. It doesn't help that CZJ looks younger than 40, and Justin Bartha was actually 30 in real life. Am I really supposed to be upset about a 30 year old man having sex with a 40 year old woman? Please.

And all of this is being treated like a huge "issue" when CZJ was literally romantically involved with Sean fucking Connery's character in Entrapment when he was 69 and she was 29...?!? People certainly raised their eyebrows at a 40 year age difference, as they should, I think, but there were never any scenes within the movie of Sean's character crying about how it would never work between them...? The movie just accepts that CZJ is a consenting adult at 29 and moves on, even if we, as audience members, don't...?!?

Ugh! What bothers me is that I actually liked this movie, despite everything. Like, I thought it was incredibly sweet and touching, even though the main "conflict" is absurd to me. It's like I'm crossing my arms and scowling while watching, but still begrudgingly enjoying it, which I think is down to Justin Bartha and Catherine Zeta-Jones being charming together, regardless of the circumstances.

Anyway... give The Rebound (2009) a watch and let me know if you agree with any of this.

#the rebound (2009)#justin bartha #catherine zeta jones #czj filmography

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