Tumgik
#old as in probably one of the first attempts I made when trying to figure out how to draw Lost Form Mace
solenstelluna · 17 days
Text
Tumblr media
You know what they say.
When in a drought, it's always ok to upload old stuff you never felt like posting before.
40 notes · View notes
astranauticus · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
oh lol i forgot to post this robit sketches! because i have one (1) bit and im sure as hell gonna commit to it apparently
#rolling with difficulty#art I made#'shut your up' is a verbatim quote from an ex classmate i just thought it was funny#i dont think it was intentional i think he was just so angry that Words Failed on him#anyway im absolutely not keeping that maxim design. god i fucking hate clothing design *so* much#austin: 'hes a gold plated mechanite dressed in blue and grey robes' me trying to figure out colour placement: 'what FUCK'#i had one (1) good idea and that was 'skeleton shaped robit' and every other part of that design went to hell apparently#bc all the other mechanites we've had were either like... flesh..? shaped?? like that sorta silhouette (basically most of the old crew)#or more mechanical/geometric (vr-la's designs and like.. k-lb? i guess? if that counts)#so. therefore. bone shaped mechanite. also if i was gonna try that concept on anyone it may as well be maxim if you think about it#idk i thought it would be interesting. and also undertale was my first fandom so uh#ANYWAY. MOVING ON FROM THAT THOUGHT.#this started as a 2am intrusive thought of like#'we (artists in the discord) keep joking abt how k-lb would be a nightmare to draw but like.. how hard is it really'#anyway as you can probably expect. famous last words#i mean genuinely mad respect to noir but i think i said to one of my friends when i showed them this sketch#'i mean this in the nicest way possible but you can just tell he was designed for an audio only storytelling format' LMAO#if anyone is unwise enough to attempt this (so basically @ my future self lmao)#do the lineart and colouring for the wires in front of the inner electricity skeleton (???) and the ones behind it on SEPARATE LAYERS#drew the wires all together then the electricity and had to painstakingly go over the electricity with an eraser it was a fucking nightmare
44 notes · View notes
pyrrhiccomedy · 19 days
Text
I am genuinely so proud of my wife for becoming a crafts person over the last few years.
Like, I was always a crafts person. I was an arts and crafts kid. My parents sent me to classes or summer camps or after-school clubs pretty much continuously from when I was about 5 years old, and over the years I did metalsmithing, stained glass, polymer clay sculpting, loom weaving, oil painting, charcoal drawing, clothes-making & tailoring, carpentry, woodcarving, macrame, miniatures, beading, jewelry-making, basket weaving, leatherworking, paper-making, bookbinding, papier mache, decoupage, sand sculpting, and probably more that I'm forgetting. There was never a day in my life while I was growing up when my entire bedroom floor wasn't taken up by 2-5 different ongoing art projects. As an adult, it's given me the firm confidence that I can walk up to pretty much any crafting skill, and get the hang of it, and enjoy doing it.
My wife never had that. She wrote, but that was really her only artistic outlet. Art & craftsmanship were just not any of her business. She always expressed admiration for my gumption when it came to making things with my hands, usually with a "bigger idiots than me have done it" attitude, but she was certain she'd be bad at it if she tried it, and that she wouldn't have fun. As evidence, she would offer every time in her life when she had attempted to learn a craft, and didn't have fun, and all the Arts And Crafts kids picked it up a lot faster than her.
Which like - yeah! Learning how to do a new craft is a skill all on its own! Fine motor control is a skill developed over time! So is spatial reasoning, and materials intuition! She wasn't just 'trying to learn wreath-making,' or whatever, she was trying to learn how to learn how to make something with her hands AND wreath-making, at the same time, so of course it would take her longer than the kids who already had the first part, and of course it would be more frustrating for her. I knew she wasn't uniquely bad at crafts: she just didn't know how to approach picking them up, because she was never encouraged to learn.
And then the pandemic hit.
And while we were all trapped inside and going insane in new and exciting ways to all of us, she tentatively decided to pick up embroidery. She probably wouldn't stick with it, she explained: she'd probably be bad at it. It probably wouldn't be fun. But she thought embroidery was pretty, and literally what else did she have going on?
And then she did stick with it. For over a year. And she got pretty good at it! She embellished a baseball hat for her sister with cactuses and wildflowers from where they grew up which came out adorable. She made an embroidered portrait of one of our friends' cat that they still have displayed in their entryway. And she discovered - and remarked on it often, with mild surprise - that she was having fun. She'd say a lot of stuff like "this stitch was so frustrating at first, but now that I get it I really like doing it," or "I kept getting this tangled but I've figured it out now. I just needed to relax."
Then she took up pottery. We did that as a couple for about a year, too. Now she's a knitter.
And it's just been so great, to see her eyes light up when she sees a sweater she likes, and hear her say, "I could make that!" She's slowly let go of the perfectionism that I think holds a lot of people back from doing crafts: that dismay when you make a mistake which leads to discarding a whole project, or starting something over. More and more she's taking on the veteran crafter attitude of "oops lol, whatever I'll just keep going." She's picking things up faster. She's taking pleasure in learning incremental steps. She's started to see crafting as something that relaxes and engages her, instead of as something inherently frustrating. I've gotten to watch her learn to find joy in making something with her hands. I always knew she was creative and artistic and capable of learning how to do anything. It's been so much fun to watch her start to take that on as part of how she sees herself.
We have this running joke about how she will prematurely declare herself to be in an era. Like, she'll go swimming twice and announce that she's now in her "swimming era," and then never go swimming again. Or she'll make one smoothie, buy a bunch of fruit, and declare that we are now in a "smoothie era," and then a week later we have to throw out a bunch of fruit that's gone bad.
The other day (while she was knitting, and I was sitting on the couch next to her doing crochet), she went, "I feel like I've gotten - like, I'm a bit crafty these days, I think. Like, I've done a couple of different crafts, and gotten pretty good at them. I think this is now, kind of, you know...something that I can say that I do."
I supplied that I would even go so far as to say that she was in her "crafting era."
Her eyes widened. "It's an era?"
I pointed out that it was something she'd been doing pretty much continuously for the last three and a half years. That feels like the start of an era to me.
"Yes," she decided. "It's an era. This is my crafts era. I'm a crafts person now."
She's planning to make me a sweater with a duck on it for fall.
1K notes · View notes
thevoidstaredback · 1 month
Text
Tim was curious. Maybe a little addicted to whatever the hell was in that coffee, he's still standing by the point that no other coffee will ever be enough, but that's not the point.
He wants answers. The Justice League want answers. No one has been able to get them. Because Phantom stays in the House of Mysteries, no one but the JLD can actually get time him. The Supers have tried listening out for him, but magic is something they're weak against and therefore can't hear through. Batman has tried to get into the House, but he's been sent everywhere else for his attempts. They would track him down as a civilian, but no one actually knows if he has a civilian disguise. It's very hard to hide hair that starkly white and skin pale enough to be blue.
Regardless, everyone wanted answers and Tim was determined to be the one to get them. Why does Phantom claim to be thirty-eight, fourteen, and eighteen all at the same time? Where did he come from? When did he die? How did he die? What the hell is in his coffee because damn was it good!
Off topic.
Tim had the rest of the Titans return to the tower while he stayed out. It'd be easier to track if he was the only one doing it. Besides, these guys work with Raven, they won't hurt him. Probably.
The fact that Phantom apparently smelled like death was another concern Tim had. Was it because he was dead? And what did Constantine mean that 'the smell lingers'?
More questions kept popping up like goddamn daisies, and there was no answers to clip them down. Tim was getting frustrated, to say the least.
***
Danny made an effort to at least try and help Constantine with the demon problem the building was having. Honestly, it wasn't even that bad, in Danny's humble opinion. The demon was just messing with people, not hurting anyone or stealing anything! He was, at most, planting minor inconveniences everywhere.
That's not technically his monkey, though, and it was most definitely not his circus. He figured he'd offer to be helpful, though, if only so that Constantine would owe him a favor. A favor he already knows how he's going to cash in.
"Why'd you really want to tag along?" Constantine asked Danny while they searched for the demon.
"What do you mean? You offered to bring me along."
"Yeah, but that's because you need to get out of the House more."
"Funny, coming from you."
"I spend more time outside of the House than I do inside." the Brit scoffed, "Now tell me why you agreed to come along. This is demon hunting. You only ever go ghost hunting."
Danny sighed and ran his left hand through his hair. Not that he could feel it, stupid nerve damage. "Deadman's been on my ass about my first trip to Gotham. I would've left to go find some place to crash, but the entire Justice League is also on my ass for some reason! I'd honestly rather not have to face any of them."
"You've been to Gotham?" Constantine asked, "When?"
Danny groaned, "Not you, too!"
"Whoa, okay, okay. You don't need to share with the class."
"Sorry."
"You better be."
"Hey!"
"Now tell my why the JL proper are after you?"
A sigh. "You remember at that meeting when Red Robin mistook my drink for his?"
"Yeah. Hard to forget. You freaked everyone out a little bit."
"Yeah. Turns out they all have questions that I don't want to answer. Avoiding them all has been the best way to not answer."
"You know you can't dodge them all forever."
"I know, but I really don't want to have to explain anything!" he whined, "The questions that they'll end up asking are gonna be really painful to answer."
A raised eyebrow. "How do you know what they'll ask?"
"Because everyone always asks the same things. Worded differently, but still that same."
"Then refuse to answer."
Danny met Constantine's eyes with a deadpan glare. "You're gonna look me in the eye and tell me that the Justice League and their sidekicks will leave me alone if I tell them 'no'?" He shook his head. "Lying's a bad habit, old man."
Constantine rolled his eyes as he went for his lighter, remembering they were were in a no smoke zone and retracting his hand. "Don't sass me, brat. Wonder Woman and Superman, at the very least, would back off. They'd get everyone else to, too."
"What about Batman and his brood?"
"Touche." the man said, "But you can't hide from them forever."
"I can try,"
"But you'll fail."
Another groan. "Can we just get this thing over with? I want to lock myself in the basement and wallow."
Part 5 Part 7
Tag List:
@zaiothe4th @someonebored0100 @wolfeyedwitch @angelheartgamer @nymanders @princessbelix @luminanightfall @kgne-k @bianca-hooks123 @reigning-catsanddogs @sassywombatranchhorse @dontfightmecauseillcry @soul-lime @anarinette @serasvictoria02 @the-chaos-goblin-child @confusedshades @caicie @fantasticstoryteller @randomshtickidk @itsberrydreemurstuff
678 notes · View notes
empress-simps · 2 months
Text
Heart Chaser
Pairing: James Potter x Reader CW: Grumpy reader, James getting injured, and Language. Genre: Fluff Summary: James tries to woo you over many times before, with what he does best- being a showoff and with a promise of a hogsmeade date if they win the quidditch tournament
Note: James is a certified simp. This is a self-indulgent one shot, enjoy reading!
Tumblr media
James was stupid- it goes without saying. Stupidly in love with you, who wants nothing to do with him. He always greets you with his charming smile, you greet him back with a scowl or a sneer just for him.
He was like a stubborn gum stuck in the bottom of your shoes that you have a hard time getting rid of.
“Is he hit in the head? Why is he doing fucking flips when he could make our house win?” You scowl, arms folding over your chest as he whizzes near you, sending a wink your way. The other girls around you squealed, thinking it was for them as giggles and whispers surrounded you. If anything, you were quite the contrary. If you could puke, you probably would’ve already done it by now.
“Hm, Black is quite a good player. Quite better than their stupid captain who just knows how to show off.” You commented on seeing Sirius Black swinging his bat to hit the incoming bludger that was aimed at James, effectively protecting the chaser. Her friends, Mary and Marlene looked at each other, eyebrows raised in surprise.
“Fancy dating a beater rather than a chaser, huh?”
Marlene teased while Mary chuckled, trying not to show her amusement to the annoyed you. “Right, so if I compliment a boy on his quidditch skills that means I’m madly in love with him? Great.” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you redirected your attention to the game.
“Oh come on, we were just teasing you, Y/n!” Mary pokes your side playfully, “I should’ve just let the sorting hat put me in Slytherin, that way I wouldn’t have to deal with you both.”
“Oh sod off, Y/n. You were pissing your pants in fear in front of older Slytherin students in our first year.” Marlene snickers, dodging your attempts to get to her as Mary tries to block you from actually hitting her.
“Why you little- “
“…And the Gryffindor team wins!”
Cheers erupted from your side as you widened your eyes in surprise. There he was, James Potter got off his broom as Sirius started to carry him on his shoulders, their teammates surrounding them. James met your eyes and smiled (quite stupidly in your opinion) sending a wink your way which made a sour look appear on your face. What a showoff.
“C’mon, game’s over. I don’t want to see Pothead’s face more than what’s necessary.” You grabbed them both and left the quidditch pitch. Marlene protested at first, but then immediately tried to persuade you into joining the common room party that night.
“Yeah yeah, whatever.” You waved her off, wanting Marlene to shut up and forget what you said. Oh, how wrong you were.
Which placed you in your current position, Marlene and Mary basically dragged you to the common room where you saw people drunk, dancing, or snogging. “Stay here, Y/n!” We’ll be back!” Marlene giggled, as she and Mary went off to Merlin-knows-where. You felt stupid and out of place, so you just stuck to the side and watched the scenes in front of you unfold.
“Didn’t think you were the type to attend parties like this.” A chuckle was heard, looking in the direction of the voice, you saw Remus, leaning against the wall much like what you are doing. You let out a scoff, “Marlene and Mary left to go snog some random people,” He lets out a laugh, “I figured. Would you like some butterbeer?” He offers, you shake your head politely. “It’s alright, I do love some firewhisky.” You joked, his eyebrows shot up in amusement and surprise as Sirius neared you both, seemingly heard your conversation.
“You’re quite surprising, Y/n! No wonder you got Prongs wrapped around your finger.” Sirius had his famous grin plastered on his face, handing you a shot of Olgden’s Old firewhisky. Your eyebrows narrowed suspiciously at Sirius, who urged you to take it. Just where did he even get that and how did he manage to sneak it in?
 “What’s life without a little risk?”
“Don’t even think about giving that to her, Padfoot.”
Like a knight in shining armor, James seemed to pop out of nowhere, getting in between you and Sirius, giving his best friend a disapproving look. Sirius grins sheepishly, raising one arm up in mock surrender, “Alright, Prongsie. Sorry dove! Next time, alright?” Sirius looked at you, winking and running off to somewhere before James could whack him. Remus follows Sirius closely behind to ensure he doesn’t do anything too stupid.
“Thanks, Potter.” You practically forced yourself to utter those words to the boy who had a quite lovestruck look on his face.
“Anything for you, Y/n.”
“Alright, I’ve had enough. Goodbye, congratulations on your win.” You sneered, trying to ignore the blush creeping in your cheeks at the obviously lovestruck James, who seemed to snap out of his trance. “H-hold on!” He grabs your wrist gently, stopping you.
“If we win the next game, let’s go to Hogsmeade.”
Alright, you weren’t expecting that. You stilled, trying to fight the stupid butterflies that started to appear in your tummy. What is happening to you? Did you find James attractive suddenly? This needs to be stopped, at least you hope it will.
“No- “
“Y/n, please! I won’t even pass notes to you anymore in class just to get us both in detention!” He pleads, you must admit that he looks quite cute. Raising an eyebrow, you tried to fight off the amused smirk threatening to make its way on your lips. “So, you’re admitting that you did that so we can spend detention together?” You should’ve whacked him upside the head and be annoyed but strangely, you find it, dare you say- adorable.
James scratched the back of his neck, he was caught. “Erm… So, is that a yes?” You clicked your tongue, “Win the game first then we’ll talk.”
“It seems like the Gryffindor’s Captain is in high spirits today!”
You hear the commentator’s voice rang throughout the cheering crowd. Crossing your arms, you observed James, his demeanor is quite different from last time. He’s more serious than ever, barely even showing off or sending a quick your way when he flies close next to you. It was a huge difference, not that you were bummed out about it (which you secretly are.)
Marlene snickered, noticing your reaction. “Why the long face? Potter not paying attention to you?”
“Sod off, Marlene.” You grumbled, shoving her lightly making her laugh. “Hey! So it’s true! Mary, Potter managed to woo our Y/n- “ You glared at her, a hint of blush dusting your cheek. “I can only tolerate so much, Marls.”
The banter was cut short when you heard gasps and the commentator’s alarmed voice was heard. “It appears that James Potter was knocked off his broom by Ravenclaw’s beater, and he’s falling quite fast! Someone get Madame Pomfrey!”
You paled, mouth turning dry as your eyes searched frantically at the enormous quidditch pitch, feeling your stomach drop as you saw James freefall to the ground quickly.  “No…” Luckily, someone managed to make his fall to the ground a bit less dangerous by turning the ground into a putty-like texture. Biting your lip nervously, you wince as James landed with a loud thud.
He wheezed, lying on the ground, and holding his arm that was probably broken. “Merlin, that actually hurts.” He looks around, shutting his eyes in embarrassment. Out of all the places he could have fallen in, it just simply had to be in front of where you sat. James can already hear you rejecting him taking you out this Saturday.
Rushing to the Hospital Wing, you opened the doors with a loud thud, not caring if you disturbed other patients as you made a beeline to James who was talking with the rest of Marauders.
“You dumb oaf! How could you possibly lose balance in your own broom?!” You furrowed you eyebrows as you saw James visibly wince, feeling ashamed, he looked down at his arm cast. Mary places a hand on your shoulder as Marlene casts an apologetic look towards the boys.
“How will I say yes to your stupid little Hogsmeade date if you’re injured?” You ‘tsked’, crossing your arms in front of your chest, ignoring everyone’s surprised reaction. Sirius whistled, already slapping James on the back as Remus widened his eyes, Peter had his mouth open in shock and your friends stared at you in surprise, looking like you just grew another head.
James quickly looked up at you, eyes beaming with happiness as a dopey smile made its way on his face. “You… you agree?” He bit his lip, trying to contain his excitement. You raised your eyebrows, a small amused smile settling on your face. “I don’t know you’re that daft, but yes. I’ll go on a date with you Potter.”
Everyone around you cheered quietly as Madame Pomfrey sent a warning glare to your group. James grins, leaning in your direction as he looks at you. “Brilliant.” His voice is a soft murmur, only meant for you. Madame Pomfrey’s glare dissolves into a knowing smile as she turns away, giving you both a moment of privacy.
James had a way of capturing people’s hearts by just being himself, he even managed to capture yours- and he doesn’t even think about letting it go.
601 notes · View notes
nana-au · 2 months
Text
JJK Men React to Finding Out You Like Them
G.Satoru, G.Suguru, I.Yuji, F.Megumi
(I got carried away with Gojo's.. mb)
𓂃⊹ ִֶָ
G.Satoru: You could not stand him and his stupid, annoying, ugly (undeniably pretty) face.
Shoko and Geto swore you two bickered like an old married couple. The two of you would scoff, sometimes even pushing each other’s shoulders just to remind the other one who was stronger. It was down right childish the way you both interacted with each other. Pinching and hair pulling. Arguing over who was right and wrong, sometimes even arguing against obvious facts just to piss the other one off. You couldn’t stand his pompous attitude and he couldn’t stand the fact you weren’t in awe of him like he believed you should be. He made every hair on your body stand straight just by his voice or the way his figure loomed over you as he teased you. 
“What’s this for?” He mocked, pinching your cheek you dusted with blush. 
“None of your business,” you assured him, attempting to punch him in the gut. He would swiftly dodge it, continuing to mock you. 
“Surely it isn’t for a boyfriend. I feel bad for any guy dumb enough to be interested in you,” his glasses would slide down his nose as he looked over your figure. You didn’t hesitant to tell him to suck a dick, and it didn’t even cross his mind to not tell you that you wished you could suck his. “I’d never let you though,” he assured you and you would huff out a ‘thank God!’. You would attempt to storm off, but he kept body blocking you, and you were adamant on not making bodily contact with the guy. “Where are you going?” he quizzed and you begged him to drop it - that it was none of his business. You were getting really worked up, more so than usual. His assumption wasn’t necessarily wrong, you were trying to leave for your date with a barista from the coffee shop you frequented in Tokyo. “If you won’t tell me, I’ll have to let Sensei know. Can’t have you up to no good.” 
“Then go tell him!” you huffed. You were going to be running late if the asshole in front of you wouldn’t move. “God Gojo, you are so childish,” he only stuck his tongue out at you. You were about to start shaking with anger and against your better judgment you confessed to him. “Fine! It’s a date, make fun of me all you want when I get back,” your chest was heaving and your blood was hot. To your sudden shock, Gojo stepped out of your way wordlessly and watched as you took off out the doors. 
The next few days felt like the Twilight Zone. You did your makeup again and Gojo didn’t even bother to flick your cheeks. When you mentioned to Shoko how nice the weather was, he didn’t argue that it was ‘Just alright’. While Suguru, Gojo, and you were taking turns sparring, he didn’t hide the defeat in his face when you kicked dirt onto him after knocking him on his ass. To you, that was really the last straw. You started to feel evil for continuing your usual antics while he just took it. A few more days went by of you both ignoring each other until one afternoon you were eating lunch with Shoko talking about your date. Geto and Gojo took their usual seats across from you as you both discussed what transpired. “Maybe he doesn’t want to sound needy,” she said when you mentioned he hadn’t texted you back still. 
“He probably thinks you're ugly,” Gojo said nonchalantly. It was the first sentence he had spoken to you in days and you had to keep your jaw from dropping to the floor. You weren’t even sure if he really spoke or if you imagined it. Perhaps your brain was filling in the words you wanted to hear from him. Not that you wanted him to call you ugly per se, but the silence from him was worse than the insults. 
“So he talks.” His eyes rolled cartoonishly at your words. He stuck a spoonful of rice in his mouth before talking,
“Giv-up,” he mumbled, some rice spilling out of his mouth. Your face contorted with disgust. He swallowed, continuing, “You're unlikeable”.
“Yeah ‘cause you’re so likable yourself,” you scoff. He continued eating and the table dropped it, all choosing to change the topic. 
Honestly, you were sure that would be your last conversation with Gojo. You went about your days without his obnoxious presence. You went on another date and were getting fairly close with your favorite barista, even inviting him to meet Shoko. You all agreed to meet up at his cafe and you were awed as he described to you the drinks he made you two. You sipped them and listened as he rambled on about the ristretto shots and the milk foam. Shoko grew bored quickly, but she was happy you were happy. 
The bell attached to the door chimed, and the blood in your face drained, leaving you sickly pale. Gojo waved to you, pointing out to Geto where the three of you sat and dragged him along. “What is he doing here?” you frantically asked Shoko. She covered her face to hide her amusement, she had to give it to him, he was about to make this deathly boring conversation into an incredibly entertaining one. 
“Since when do you drink coffee?” Gojo asked you, pulling up a chair and sitting next to you. “I thought caffeine made you sick?” he pouted at you, pulling away the latte. He wasn’t wrong, you did tend to feel unwell after having caffeine, but since when did he care? 
“I can handle myself, Gojo,” you spat. Gojo ignored you, taking two big gulps from the mug and finishing it then and there. 
“Wow you made this?” he asked the guy. He nodded, looking incredibly confused. “Tastes like shit.” With a quickness you were out of your chair and pulling Gojo by the collar of his button down. “Be right back,” he snickered to the barista as you dragged him out the door. 
“What is your problem?” You begged. He looked shocked, telling you him and Geto were just walking by when he saw you and Shoko. You were bewildered by the way he was acting, completely stumped as to what you should even say. His hand grabbed yours that was still gripping his collar. He pulled it off and pushed it against the wall, his hand caging yours as he leaned against your intertwined fingers. His eyes watched your lips as you kept opening them to speak, but closing them when you kept losing your words. 
“Is this not what you wanted?” His words were breathy and hard to hear. “I know you are doing this-” His free hand gesturing to your figure, “to get a reaction from me.”
“You’ve really lost it now, Gojo,” you couldn’t hide the blush though. He smiled at you regardless, and your legs began to feel weak. It hit you like a truck. His smile was cocky and genuine. It wasn’t coated with his usual delusional smirk, but an all-knowing, teeth-showing grin. It was then you grew nauseous with the knowledge Suguru snitched on your drunk confession. 
You hardly remembered that night - Geto had shared his bottle of Jack Daniel’s and you were too much of a lightweight to keep yourself from admitting to him that you enjoyed Gojo’s teasing. That you were infatuated with the white-haired sorcerer and you had really started to like him. That his cocky attitude was not a turn off like you tried to convince yourself and that when he stood over you, making you feel small, you weren’t mad at him but mad you enjoyed the feeling of being towered over by him. 
“I’m not dating just to make you jealous,” you tried to stand up for yourself. You really weren’t, the guy just asked you and you had nothing better to do. You got free drinks out of it too- really that was all it was. 
“How could I be jealous when I know you like me?”
In Suguru’s defense, when you called him a traitor he assured you it was an accident. He just wanted to get Satoru out of his funk. The day he caught you looking all dolled up, just to find out it was for another man, he couldn’t get out of his own head. He also didn’t understand why he couldn’t. He pestered his best friend for days over it and Suguru had to throw in the towel. You liked him because he heard it from you. And Satoru liked you because he knows his best friend more than anyone. 
It was all worth it in the end, because things went back to normal. (Except for the small detail that Satoru and you were now a couple). 
𓂃⊹ ִֶָ
G.Suguru: The older boy’s reaction made you swoon.
You were a year below him at Jujutsu Tech and you were in awe of his cursed technique and if you were forced to be honest, in awe of him. You must’ve looked like a lost puppy following him around when you insisted on watching him train, joining him to find a snack at the convenience store, and insisting on learning about all the curses he had under his control. He was so kind about it too - always dismissing Gojo when he would groan about how insistent you were. “How can you put up with her? She doesn’t have her own life,” he would say, poking his tongue out.
 “She’s just curious, Satoru,” he would reply. He wouldn’t kid himself though, he found you absolutely adorable and didn’t mind having you under his arm all day. You weren’t much younger than him, but you felt as though he held infinite wisdom. Your eyes would twinkle up at him as he shared stories of his missions and his lips would tingle watching yours twitch with ‘oohs” and “ahhs”. He adored the way you would watch him as he ran around the track, shirtless and dripping with sweat. When you joined him he couldn’t help but keep your pace just so he could keep his attention on you. You didn’t know this when you finally confessed, but he was as infatuated with you as you were with him. He was obsessed with how obsessed you were with him. He was by no means struggling in attracting women, but to have you be so casually faithful to him, it was too hard to not take advantage of. 
The day you decided to dress up really pretty for your weekly Tuesday walk to Tokyo for lunch at his favorite place was the day you officially confessed. You wore the skirt the two of you saw one day while window shopping - the one he said reminded him of something you would wear. You even applied lip gloss even though you despise the fact your hair always gets stuck in it. “What’s got you looking all pretty?” he would muse. 
“Sugu, I like you,” you admitted, quick like pulling off a bandaid. You hadn’t even made it out of the school’s grounds when you confessed. He held out his arm to stop you and blocked the way with his tall figure. 
“I already knew that, little one,” he cooed. “Let’s go, we don’t want to be late,” he grabbed your small hand in his and continued forward. It wasn’t an official response, but you knew him so well that it was official enough for you.
𓂃⊹ ִֶָ
I.Yuji : You swear the boy must be dumb.
Your friends would definitely describe you as the shy type. You never talked out of turn or made your true feelings known so blatantly - but with Yuji - you were really trying. If Yuji said he was hungry, you would always be there to hand him his favorite candy. When his face was caked with dirt and sweat after a mission, you were there with a cloth to clean him up. If he so much as got a paper cut you would insist on applying a bandaid to his finger. You couldn’t tell if you liked helping him more than he liked being helped. He would always smile at you, warm and sincere. His eyes would hold yours, cheeks flushed a light pink. The way he would look at you, head angled down to get a good look at your face, the innocent scrunch of his eyebrows..
“You’re such an amazing friend,” he would say and you had to blink to keep your eyes from rolling back into your head. 
One day as he was happily sipping the ice cold tea you bought him, munching on the little pastry you went out of your way to get after he announced - very loudly - how starved he was, you decided enough was enough. 
“I like you,” You told him bluntly. He finished chewing his last bite before telling you he liked you too. 
“You’re a really good friend,” he smiled. You could feel your body begin to shake as you repeated what you said. 
“I like-like you, Yuji. Not friend-like. Like-Like.” Your hands went to grip the grass beneath you, desperately trying to ground yourself. His eyebrows scrunched, as if he was trying to process your confession. You couldn’t hold his eyes when he didn’t immediately respond. You turned your attention to Maki and Nobara who were training not far in front of you. Your eyes couldn’t focus on their figures as your body shouted at you to get up and bury yourself in bed for the day. His hand found your thigh, and you jumped slightly. When your eyes met him again, you swore you never saw him look so serious. His lips were in a thin line, eyes twinkling. 
“Maybe I like-like you too,” he spoke only above a whisper and you melted on the spot.
𓂃⊹ ִֶָ
F.Megumi: The boy was always in his own little world
That’s what you really liked about him. His ability to be quiet, observant, and at times lost in his own thoughts. All though, trying to get him to notice your crush on him would be harder than pulling all of your toenails off one by one. You would lay in Nobara’s bed as she admired the outfits she bought that day, trying her best to ignore your groans. 
“I should just give up now,” you whined. You had finished a long winded rant about Megumi, how he never reacted to your attention in the way you craved him to. 
“You should give up. I’m sick of hearing it,” Nobara lovingly teased. “Or you could just tell him,” You would gasp at the idea and bury your head into her pillow. 
You always found yourself to be the type of girl to read everyone’s feelings. People were like books to you, except for him. Before joining Jujutsu Tech, flirting was second nature to you. But when you saw his messy black hair and cold blue eyes your brain short circuited. You sure would try to flirt though. Giggling at his jokes he thought no one heard or playing with your hair in conversation. You would buy a new perfume and ask him to smell you, or ask if he liked the way you did your makeup that day. He would flush red and obey your asks. He would tell you that you smell great or that your eyelashes looked really pretty, but he would end it there. 
A couple days had passed since your rant to Nobara and the four of you were out in Tokyo. Yuji had insisted you all join him to the movies, and with nothing better to do you all obliged. At the theater you paid for your drink and popcorn and made your way to your movie when you noticed Nobara and Megumi weren’t following behind you. You shrugged it off and sat down with Yuji to watch the previews. The lights had already dimmed and the movie just started by the time Nobara came with Megumi in tow. “Sit,” she commanded him, referring to the spot next to you. You watched as Megumi - stiff as a board- took the seat beside you, and continued to shuffle around in his seat trying to get comfortable. 
“What happened?” you whispered to him, scared of what Nobara had done to make him act so odd. He didn’t respond and kept his eyes glued to the screen. It went on like that for a while, him still squirming awkwardly in his seat and when a jump scare came on screen and he didn’t react you turned to him again. “You act like you saw a ghost,” you joked to him. He replied dead serious.
“Just saw Nobara, that’s all.”
“What did she do?” You weren’t really sure you even wanted to know. After what seemed like hours of silence he asked if you really did like him. 
“Is it true what Nobara said?” Your mouth fell open and he was now completely facing you. You were all there for a screening of a horror movie and right now the main character was in a dark basement making it hard to see any light on Megumi’s face. From what you could see though, he looked flustered but maintained his eye contact with you. Thanks to Nobara it was now or never, and you meekly shook your head at him. He scratched the back of his neck and you could see his Adam's apple bob in his throat. Your face was hot watching him process your confession, not sure if you wanted to punch Nobara or thank her for finally putting you out of your misery. Even if it did mean Megumi no longer wanted to be near you. “I’ve just never had someone tell me that,” he finally spoke. ‘I don’t hate you, just give me time to process that,” he asked. You nodded and turned back to the screen, trying to focus on the protagonist dodging death. You had grown as stiff as him and noticing, he put his hand on your thigh, squeezing it lightly as reassurance. You both were red in the face, eyes glued to the front of the theater but not actually watching what was on it, lost in your thoughts. The process wasn’t smooth for you two, but your confession made Megumi realize his own feelings. Why he felt nervous when you were in the room and why he doubted his words before speaking to you. You both worked on it together, and your confidence with each other grew. It wasn’t long before you two went to Tokyo alone or sat in each other’s room late at night just talking. Megumi was your boyfriend by the end of the year, and you felt as giddy around him as the day you first met him. 
439 notes · View notes
sanguineterrain · 7 months
Note
Hii I am more of a silent reader but really want to start making requests but if you don't like this request you totally don't have to do it. All so if this is too long sorry.
So maybe a Jason prompt with "why not them why me" like they have been spending more time with the Bat boys, making Jason jealous. They confesses they did it to be liked by her boyfriend's family.
Hey anon! Thanks for the request. I tweaked it a little, but it's got the same theme you requested. Hope you like!
jason todd x gn!reader. jealous/sad jason, happy ending, proposal, established relationship. he's the goodest boy. ft the batbros.
****
It's close to nine PM when Dick finally drops you off home.
You turn to Damian first and hold out your hand, expecting him to give you his usual handshake goodbye.
Instead, Damian pats your shoulder and gives you a nod. You blink, startled.
"Today was enjoyable," he says, holding the book about saltwater creatures that he got from the zoo. "I will inform Todd that he has chosen well."
In Damian speak, you may as well have gotten a hug and a blessing.
"Oh," you say, trying not to tear up. "Thank you, Damian. I had a good time, too. Thank you both for spending the day with me."
"This was a test," Damian says, and Dick rolls his eyes in the rear view mirror.
"Dami, stop calling it a test. It wasn't a test."
"Richard, I don't know why you insist on lying. They obviously have figured out that it was a test. In any case, they've passed, so it doesn't matter."
You hide a smile as Dick gives up and gets out of the car. He opens your door.
"I'll see you later, Damian," you say. "Good luck with your science test."
"I do not need luck," Damian replies. "But I appreciate the sentiment. Goodbye."
You follow Dick into your apartment building. You're happy; last week, you spent the day with Tim and Cassandra. The week before that, you officially met Bruce and Alfred.
Dick and Damian were the last "test," and the ones you were most nervous about. From what Jason's told you about his family, Dick and Damian, while total opposites in temperament, are extremely shrewd in their judgments of character, and not easy to please. For all that Dick is friendly and warm, you know he's studying your every move to ensure that you're a good match for his little brother. Not that you blame them; you're sure that being children of a billionaire has resulted in some awful dates.
Today was your fourth outing with Dick, and your second with Damian. At first, Damian seemed totally closed off to you, which you understood. You're his brother's partner; what twelve year old gives a shit about that?
But you feel you've made good progress today. You feel like the Wayne's really like you, and don't just tolerate you because they have to.
"Please don't listen to him," Dick says while you wait for the elevator. "Damian thinks every social interaction is a test. We're working on it."
"It's okay," you say, because it is. "I get it. I'm glad I passed."
Dick shakes his head. "It was never a matter of passing. We thought you were great the first time Jason introduced you to us."
"Dick..." You melt at that, both out of relief and fondness. Dick is probably your favorite one of Jason's brothers, after Damian, of course. He's the most sympathetic to your attempts at connecting with the family and the one who's the gentlest with you.
He smiles, all sunshine, and you're abruptly glad that Jason has a family like this one.
"Are you gonna ask him this week?" Dick asks.
You bite your lip, unable to hide your smile. "I think so. What do you think?"
"I think it's perfect. He doesn't like all that fuss. And you'll be letting him know that you want to marry just him. Not when you're dressed up, on a date, but all of him."
"I do," you say, voice thick. "I do want that, D."
He nods, eyes soft. "I know. I'll see you next week," he says. "Don't worry about the dinner, okay? You're practically family now. And I expect to see a ring!"
He pulls you into a quick hug, and you sag in relief. You did well. It's been confirmed.
"Thank you," you say softly.
The elevator doors open. Dick lets you go, and you wait for the doors to close before you go to your apartment.
"You're out late."
You jump, almost dropping your bag of zoo souvenirs. Jason is leaning against the couch, arms folded. You laugh a little, holding your chest.
"Jay, you scared me! Jeez."
You go to him and lean in for a kiss. He dodges you, slipping away to the kitchen to get a glass of water.
You blink owlishly, trying to process what just happened.
"Um," you begin. "Is everything okay?"
"So where was it this time?" Jason asks. "Escape room? Art museum? Some other place you can't be seen with me?"
"Jason, what are you talking about?"
He finally looks at you. His gaze is intense, lethal. It makes you take a step back. He turns away.
"Where'd you go today? And be honest."
"We went to the zoo, and then we went to dinner. Me, Dick, and Damian. Jay, what's this about?"
Jason looks up. His gaze is no longer lethal; now it's just melancholy.
"Are you with me to get to them?" he asks.
"Get to who?"
"The Bats. Gotham's finest. Bruce Wayne's rag-tag group of orphans he can't stop collecting."
"Are you asking me if I'm in this relationship to get to your family?" you ask, unable to keep the frustration out of your voice.
"Yes. That's exactly what I'm asking. I'm asking if you like my media-trained, not-undead family who you can actually spend time with publicly. I'm asking if you like my Boy Wonder brother, who'd probably show you a better time than I can."
"Jason Wayne, I have never cheated on you or thought about cheating on you. With Dick or anyone else," you say firmly. "Now, what's this about?"
Jason's face falls.
"You're right," he says quietly. "That was stupid 'f me to say. I know you're faithful, baby."
He won't look you in the eye now. It is reminiscent of the beginning of your relationship when Jason would retreat whenever you argued. It wasn't until you confronted him about it that you learned that he thought every argument was your last and that you'd break up with him the next day.
"Jay," you say, getting closer. "Something's obviously bothering you. Talk to me, please."
He stays quiet. You get close enough to touch him, but you don't, in case he's not ready to be touched yet.
"Why me?" he rasps.
"Why you what?"
He takes a sharp breath. "Why not them? Why me? Why d'you bother with me?"
"Jay, baby, where's this coming from? I don't bother with you, I love you. I am in a relationship with you because I want to be."
"You've hung out with them this whole month," he mumbles. "And I know we can't go out anytime 'cause I'm technically dead, but I just—I mean, we could work something out if you really wanna go. I wanna do that stuff with you too."
"Jason, no, no," you say, and reach for him. This time, he lets you pull him into a hug, and you kiss his chin. He makes a soft sound in his throat.
"Oh, honey, is that what this is about? You think I'm replacing you?"
"'S happened before," he mumbles, and you screw your face up so you won't cry at that.
"Jason, I—" You take a deep breath and release him until you're holding his hands. "Fuck me, I guess there's no time like the present."
Jason squints. "What're you—"
"I met them to ask for their blessing," you say before you can lose your nerve. "I hung out with them because I wanted to make sure they'd like me, and I should've told you, but I wanted to keep it a surprise."
"Keep what a surprise? Sweetheart, what's—"
You let go of Jason's hands and get down on one knee. Jason's eyes go wide.
"Holy fuck," he says, and you laugh wetly.
"Jaybird, we've been together for a long time, and I'm positive that you're the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. I hung out with your family this month so I could be sure that we'd get along. Because I know they're important to you, even if you have your rough patches."
"Holy fuck," Jason says again, eyes glassy.
You smile and pull out the black velvet box with the ring that Alfred had helped you choose.
"Jason Wayne, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you—mmph!"
Jason is on you in an instant, and the box tumbles from your hand. He presses you to the floor and kisses you hard, his hands squeezing your waist.
"Jay, this part is supposed to come after we get married, not before," you say when he finally lets you break for air.
"What can I say? Commitment gets me hot."
You wrap your arms around his neck, comfortable under him. Jason kisses you again, softer and sweeter.
"So is that a yes?" you ask.
"It's an emphatic yes, oui, si, ja, da..."
"Okay, I get it, Bruce put you in private school," you say, rolling your eyes. Jason pinches your hip and you squeal.
He rolls you over so you're atop him.
"I'm sorry I said those things," he says. "I didn't—I know you wouldn't do that. I was just upset, but I shouldn't have accused you out of anger."
"I forgive you," you say and kiss his temple. "It's not the last fight we'll have, and if I was afraid of a few arguments, I wouldn't ask you to marry me, Jay. Thank you for communicating."
"Fuck, I love ya," he whispers, and hugs you tighter.
"Ditto!" you say, and he snorts.
"So my entire family knows I'm getting married then, huh?"
"What? No. I only told Dick."
Jason laughs. "Yeah. Everybody definitely knows."
"Jay, I didn't mean..."
"Aw, baby, no, it's okay. I never thought I'd actually make it this far, so it's really okay." He kisses your nose when you start to frown. "And I'm the first Wayne to get married for real. Suck it, B!"
"Please don't put that in your vows, Jay."
Jason grins so hard, his cheeks puff out.
"No promises, fiance."
472 notes · View notes
rayven81194 · 2 months
Text
WOOO RANDOM DEATH FAMILY HEADCANONS
Lmao sorry pissa and death family nation for being somewhat inactive, take these headcanons that probably don’t align with canon as compensation
THIS IS ABOUT THE CHARACTERS NOT CONTENT CREATORS BTW
Not a single person in the Death Family is warm to touch and can often be cold before bed, their houses and nests are always somehow really warm and blanket full
Missa and Phil built a small shelf in the kitchen in the house at old spawn, Missa and Chayanne have filled it with cookbooks
Tallulah knows how to make perfume and because Missa has been away for a while, Tallulah has been making perfumes for him for when he gets back
Adding onto the last one, there have been lots of ‘failed attempts’, ie Tallulah was being nit picky with the scents and trying to figure out exactly what he likes
Missa will like anything and everything given to him, so long as it’s made with love
Phil, on the other hand, will like everything and anything given to him even if it’s given with hate, because he assumes the other has a connection to it (assumes they might just like things like he does)
When Missa first left on the old spawn Phil used to make small dinners for him that wouldn’t go bad for a while just in case Missa came back when he came back
Overtime, they would get more complex and put in the fridge with a note left for him
Every single meal, regardless of what it is, will have toast cut in the shape of Phil’s had with avocado making the green stripes, and another toast cut like a skull with blueberries for the details
Chayanne used to stress bake when his parents were gone, and that improved his skills in cooking really quickly
Tallulah walks extremely quietly, Chayanne picked this up and it scares Phil every time
Despite his parents vibes and all that, Chayanne refuses to wear black sweaters specifically, shirts are on thin ice and black k shorts or pants are a coin flip, this is because he doesn’t like flour showing on them when he doesn’t want to use an apron
Tallulah used to pick at her nails when nervous, but started picking at flowers instead and now her nails hurt if she scratches you
It doesn’t matter who you are, if you become apart of the Death Family, the first thing you’re taught is how to paint your nails
When Phil doesn’t have a bookmark with him and when his wings had healed enough, he would pluck a feather out and use it as a bookmark
Either Phil or Missa doggy ears pages in a book and genuinely can’t tell who, I just think one of them does even if they have a bookmark available
There are a shit ton of keychains on Phil’s bag, you give him one, it could be of anything (besides anything fed related), it’s going on that bag
Phil sometimes wishes he could proper speak bird, I guess, this is only so he could also flirt with and compliment Missa in another language like he does
Chayanne has crocs
When Tallulah cut her hair, she asked for a photo of Missa and mimicked his hairstyle
Whenever Missa is awake/goes to sleep with Phil, the eggs silently rejoice because those two hug each other extremely closely when they sleep
Despite Missa being gone for the longest time, when Phil didn’t come back on Mexican Independence Day, he developed a fear of him leaving him, like physically being far away when he didn’t know where he is and if he was okay, he understands now what Phil feels when he’s gone
Missa, because he’s the tallest between a bird man and children, will pick them up and spin them, even if only for a bit lmao he’s not strong
Adding onto that one, whenever Phil is too excited or stress or just overwhelmed with any emotions, Missa spins him around to help and it works for some reason
Phil started to spin himself in circles when overwhelmed and when Missa was gone
After the birdhouse and when Phil was physically alone, he used to sit by a crafting table with rocks and ores and make little figures of Chayanne, Tallulah and Missa, they weren’t the best and didn’t the proportions weren’t amazing, but he spent weeks on each one and added little faces with a marker
He left the Chayanne and Tallulah statues on their respective beds, with Missa beside the flower pot, hoping they would be replaced with the real people when he woke up
They never were, but Phil put them in the window upstairs once the eggs were back
When the eggs first went missing, Phil took out some cookbooks, and every single meal that looked frequently used/visited was made, and always left out for Missa
If they weren’t eaten, Phil would eat half of it for his dinner the next day, the other half in a fridge
He actually made Missa a fridge to put all these meal in and painted it to suit his vibes
The trash cans used to always filled with sticky notes because everyday, Phil would write ‘Dinner for you’ with a silly little doodle on it for Missa if he returned while sleeping
Tallulah writes in cursive
When Missa was gone, Phil used to write his name like Misƨa (second s is backwards) and make the tops each s look like half a heart, so it made a heart in his name
Missa picked up on this and always wrote Philza instead of Phil so he could put a heart with the z and a
Im bad at explaining so this is what I mean by their names:
Tumblr media
216 notes · View notes
Text
Brotherly Love P.t 2 J.T
Tumblr media
Jason Todd x Al-Ghul/Wayne reader(platonic)
Brotherly Love Masterlist <- right here
Gender Neutral
Summary: Time at your father's has broken apart your relationship with your brother, but what about your adopted brother?
Warnings: insecurity, mentions Scarecrow and his toxin, mentions of murder.
~☆~
You were sitting down in the library, reading one of your favorite books, and sipping the tea you had made just a few minutes beforehand. The ache of being alone had finally disappeared weeks ago, you don't even know if Damian has left the Batcave, you wonder if he too missed how things were before you came here.
A sound of footsteps alerted you before the large library doors opened, it was that man that you had seen talking to Alfred, the guy with the familiar eyes. You watched as he closed the door behind himself, his eyes caught your own as he glanced at you with no readable expression. You kept eyeing him as he passed the couch you were sitting on and headed straight for the bookshelves, he reached a hand up before grabbing onto a worn out book.
He turned around and started heading towards the couch opposite of you, you quickly looked away, staring down at your own book as an attempt to look busy.
As he sits down and opens his book you look up again, trying to figure out why he looks so familiar, and notice the book he has is green, and the spine is falling apart, the title has worn away probably from how old the book was.
"Y'know it's rude to stare." The mysterious man across from you commented, snapping you out of your daze making you look back up at his face that was now facing you.
"Who are you?" You questioned, still confused about what looks so familiar about him, the man across from you chuckles, and his face breaks out into a smile confusing you even more.
"Straight to the point huh?" He he chuckled out again, "well I could ask you the same, you came here with that brat didnt you?". You wanted to snap back, defend your brother from this random man that seemingly knew him.
"Yeah...I did" you mumbled out looking back down at your very own book. The change in attitude seemingly left the man a little lost, and not knowing what to do, he shifted a bit and gripped his book a little tighter. His lips pursed and his eyes darted to things around him as he sat in the awkward aura that had taken over the enormous room, his eyes once again looked at you as he thought about what to say to lighten the mood back up.
"My names Jason." He introduced finally answering the question you asked him, his eyes softened and the corners of his lips slightly rose when you looked back at him.
"(Y/N)." You responded, your brain was scouring for anything that could pinpoint why you think you know him, but sadly, no knowledge of 'Jason' had come up.
"Yeah, you're the old man's kid." He stated, somehow knowing you, just like he knew Damian, seriously who was this guy? He must have sensed your confusion because he answered your question immediately.
"Bruce took me in when I was a kid, and I have some history with Talia."......was this guy in your head or something what is going on?
"The library was my favorite place when I first moved in." Jason spoke, talking to himself as he looked back down at the book in his hands.
"Mine too." You mumbled....
~☆~
The two of you sat there until Jason had gotten about halfway through his book, he had then run down to the Batcave and you hadn't seen him since, when you asked Alfred he told you that Jason had come by to talk and to borrow something from Bruce. Later that night after dinner you ran to catch up with Bruce before he got to the Batcave, hoping to get answers to some questions.
"Bruce!" You called out, not really on the term 'father' yet like Damian is. Bruce stopped walking and turned to look at you, waiting for you to catch up to him.
"What is it, Y/N?" He questioned once you finally reached his side, after putting out his arm for you to hold on to he started walking again.
"Is Jason another one of your adoptees?" You questioned, your head turned up to look at Bruce who was looking back down at you with his eyebrows raised.
"Well yes he is, my second....why?" He answered, curious as to why you would bring up Jason.
"Well he came by today." Your statement took the older man by surprise, Bruce hadn't even known Jason had been at the Manor, after their most recent fight that caused Bruce to explode and say some things he didn't mean Jason had cut off his communication with the rest of the family. Surely this visit meant that he's ready to speak again, hope filled Bruce, maybe Jason would forgive him so that he can have his son back again.
~☆~
Before you knew it you and Bruce reached the Batcave, and he looked down at you yet again, eyes holding nothing but love, offering a small smile he hesitantly let go of you. As you turned around to leave, Bruce had stopped you to ask
"Do you know what he came for?". You shifted your body to face the taller man yet again, this time his eyes were holding a look of sadness, begging you to say that he came for his father.
...
"He came to get something from you, then he sat in the library and read with me." You answered, before staring your journey back to the kitchen to help Alfred with dishes.
~☆~
Bruce finally had time away from Wayne enterprises, and Dick was going to be in town for the next week because of a case, seeing an opportunity, Alfred had put together a dinner and invited Tim and Dick. Which lead you to where you are now, sitting next to Dick and Tim, Dick was talking to Damian whilst Tim was talking to Bruce about business at Wayne enterprises.
Conversations were cut short when Alfred had come out with all of the food, everyone had collected what they wanted and started completely new conversations with other people at the table, except for you, you just sat there staring at the food you were eating.
A knock at the door caused everyone to stop their conversations yet again, curiosity got the best of everyone as they turned to look at the entryway of the dining room once two voices were heard.
...
"Master Jason is here." Alfred announced, as he walked into the dining room, and just like he said Jason was there right behind him. The scarred man had taken a seat across from you, where a plate was already sat waiting for him to fill up, you and Damian had gone back to eating, unbothered by the awkward aura surrounding the other men at the table.
Dick was the first to speak, mumbling a "Hey Jason" served with a half smile, The man across from you just glanced up at him and muttered out a "Dick." in acknowledgement, after that the rest of the men around the table started eating again, continuing their conversations from earlier, leaving you to sit there and silently eat your food.
A foot nudging your leg from under the table got your attention, your head shot up to look at Jason who was staring at you with his eyebrows knit together, his face showed a look that silently asked 'are you okay', offering him back a slight nod you went back to eating.
~☆~
Bruce had cleared his throat therefore making everyone at the table look at him, he set down his utensils and brought his hands together to sit under his chin, before looking at you and Damian.
"I spoke to Talia, and we both think it's best if I enroll the two of you into school." He revealed, as if he was just a normal single father, and he looked at each of your faces to catch your expressions.
"We are far to intelligent for schooling with a buch on simpletons." Damian exclaimed, seemingly annoyed that Bruce would even think about putting him in a room of regular kids.
"I know that Damian, but we just think it will do the both of you good." Bruce sighed trying to get Damian on board with the idea.
"But-" Damian started before you interrupted him, "Mother is not coming back anytime soon, is she?" You questioned, school would only mean that you and Damian would be staying here longer than anticipated.
"No Y/N, she's not" the older man muttered out, and went back to his food as an attempt to end the conversation at that.
(Trust me I know Talia talking to Bruce and being like "yeah put our kids in school whilst I hunt Deathstroke" is a little weird but I have a vision.)
~☆~
After dinner Bruce, Dick, Tim, and Damian had all retreated to the batcave, and Jason had just up and disappeared. Alfred had already came and picked up all of the plates from the table you were still sitting at, your head was hung as you stared at your hands in your lap.
Everyone had willingly left you, they had all got up and left you, that wasn't fair. Why does Damian get all of their attention, why is Damian more liked than you, is it because he has proven himself worthy since he is Robin, is it just because he is more bearable to be around? Talia may have not been the best mother but oh how you wish she was here for you right now, maybe she would understand how you feel, maybe she would spend time with you, even if it was just training. Bruce had been okay at first but as time went on and Damian proved himself worthy Bruce had become distant, spending more time with Damian-
"Hey-."
Your body snapped up and your instincts kicked in as you were pulled out of your thoughts, the hand that was just placed on your shoulder was now behind the back of the body you had bent over the table.
"Jesus, calm down!" The person yelled, as you looked down at the body you identified as Jason, letting go of his hands you backed away from the table, Jason straightened his back as he turned to look at you, slowly he brung both of his hands up to hover around his head in a way to show that he means no harm.
"Calm down will ya." He whispered out, gesturing to your rapid breathing, he slowly brung down one of his hands and reached it out towards you only for you to move away from him yet again.
"I'm fine." You muttered out, looking down at your feet, and trying to steady your breathing. Jason lowered his arms back to his sides and waited for your breathing to regulate before speaking again.
When your breathing finally went back to normal you looked up at Jason who was just staring at you, a smile broke out on his face and you could see that he was trying to hide a laugh. Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to guess what he wanted to laugh at, the look you gave him only caused his laughter to finally break out. Once Jason's laughter died down he moved towards you and raised an arm to put around your shoulders.
"Come on." Was all he said as he pushed you out of the dining room.
~☆~
Your enture body was stiff as Jason lead you around the Manor, his arm still residing around your shoulders. The two of you walked down the long hallways, no conversation being made, just admiring the art along the walls. There were various paintings hanging, some sporting random people you've never seen, others looked like younger variations of Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Tim. You wondered if Bruce would sit you and Damian down to get yourselves painted, Ra's himself had had a couple commissioned of the two of you, but never hung them.
Jason guided you down another hallway, you could feel the warmth from his skin seeping in through your clothes, his arm was heavy, a resuring weight, a reminder that he was still there right beside you. He brought a feeling that you had never felt, maybe it was the fact that you have never been held except by Damian, who's embrace lacked comfort and love, maybe because he himself never experienced that.
You could smell the cologne that he sprayed before visiting, that traditional man smell was on him but the more you focused you could tell that he smelled like Tobacco, Gunpowder, leather, and something earthy, hints of something sweet hit your nose as you continued to breathe, like he had been in a bakery.
~☆~
Jason and You had come to a halt in front of a pair of doors, doors that you're highly familiar with, doors to the library to be in fact. Jason took his arms off of your shoulders to push open one of the doors open, gesturing for you to go first and himself after. Jason walked past you, seemingly heading for the couches in the middle of the room but he soon passed them too, ending up in front of one of the many bookshelves, the very one he stood in front of when the pair of you read in here the other day. Speaking of the other day Jason was now grasping the same exact book that he had the other day, old, green, and missing its title. Jason scoured through the book, seemingly reminiscing, you watched as Jason straightened his back, closing the book and looking directly infront of himself, before looking back at the book one last time. Jason turned around face you, his legs moving towards you, book still in hand, his eyes kept moving from the book and the floor.
"Here, I noticed what you were reading the other day." He stated holding the book out to you with a smile on his face, trying to hint that you would like this book as well.
"What is it?" You questioned, curious as to what the book in fact was, before taking it in your hands and tracing along the cracked spine. One of Jason's arms went to rub the back of his neck, and his eyebrows knit together as if trying to find the answer to your question.
"To be honest, I don't know, book was here way before me." The man infront of you confessed, Jason let out a chuckle before heading towards the door again, opening it and gesturing for you to step out.
"Where are we going?" You questioned him again, first he led you all the way to the library without telling you where you'd be going, now he's trying to get you to go somewhere else.
"The cave." Was all he muttered.
~☆~
Everyone was already in their suits, crowding around the office chair infront of the computer's, you and Jason stood behind all of the boys with curious looks on your faces.
"What is it this time." Jason asked breaking the silence that hung around the room, Damian turned to look at him, if looks could kill, Jason Todd would be a dead man again.
"Homicide." Bruce answered first, never once taking his eyes off the screen. From the looks of it, he was looking at the filed police report.
"Wow, surprise, it's Gotham." You remarked, Jason turned to look at you with a hidden smile on his face, your own face mirroring his after you made eye contact. Damian turned to look at you, offering the same look he gave to jason seconds before. Dick stood up straight and rested his elbow on your head. Quickly, he looked down at you, then Jason, then back to you.
"Not all of the murders in Gotham stem from Scarecrows gas." Dick informed."The infected committed the crime this time." He finished, Jason moved from beside you, heading for the entry from the batcave and back to the Manor, you pulled Dicks arm off of your head and went to follow Jason back up.
Once back up Jason headed straight towards the front door, and fled down the front steps of the Manor.
"Jason, wait!" You called out to him as he hopped onto a motorcycle.
"What?" He asked, putting on a helmet.
"Where are you going?" You questioned him
"work." Was all he said before revving up his motorcycle and speeding off.
...
You stared down at the book in your hands, tracing the faults on the cover with your fingers, honestly in a family of vigilantes you should've known that he's one too.....
Tumblr media
~☆~
....
I got so much support on p.t 1 of this and that makes me so happy, I hope you enjoyed this part as well. I don't know when it will be uploaded, but I am going to write another part. <33
(Pt.3 is out now)
Taglist: @sanjanapm @unofficial-jaytodd-wife
@texaschainslvt
@godknows-shetried
@wendds
@celestair
@lorosette
@knoxx-seresinbradshaw
@agent-nobody-knows
@5sos-wdw
1K notes · View notes
helloalycia · 3 months
Text
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄 [𝐎𝐍𝐄] — 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑
Tumblr media
two / masterlist / wattpad
summary: when you break your arm in the plane crash, Jackie seems to be helping you out more than usual and you're left wondering why.
warning/s: mentions of a plane crash, amputation, broken bones.. the usual warnings that come with Yellowjackets lol.
author's note: this has been ready for a while now, as have a few other things whilst i work on some old requests. sorry for the delay with everything - i’ve been very busy, but i hope you like this two part jackie imagine :)
Tumblr media
I could hear screaming and shouting, there was smoke everywhere and, despite my confusion, I knew I needed to get out of here before the smoke suffocated me.
Clipping off my seatbelt, I scrambled out of the aisle and briefly looked around, unable to make sense of anything, and then my head was spinning and I couldn't stay here any longer. Fresh air. I needed to breathe and then I could work out what was what.
Following the sound of screaming seemed counterproductive, but that was the way out, so I dragged my body – which felt like it had been thrown around in a blender – out the back of the plane and to... the middle of the forest?
The team. Some of them were running around, doing all sorts I couldn't seem to focus on, whilst others were bent over, catching their breath, appearing dazed and confused like me. I didn't get long to think about how I'd ended up here when, suddenly, someone shoved into me from behind and I fell forward, landing right on my outstretched arm.
A scream escaped my lips at the pain that struck, it breaking through the fog of confusion. I squeezed my eyes shut, tears pricking them instinctively, and tried to breathe through the pain. Pushing myself up with my other hand, I grimaced at the slight movement of my left arm, which had to be broken considering I couldn't do anything with it.
It wasn't until after all the chaos, after everybody had stopped screaming and vomiting and crying, that the realisation that our plane had crashed hit us. And by then, I was too preoccupied with my broken arm. Imagine coming out of a plane crash unscathed, only to get pushed down and left with a broken arm. Very stupid, indeed.
Surprisingly, Misty was the only one who could work under pressure, barely fazed by everything happening and instead tending to everyone's injuries as quickly as she could. Upon realising I'd broken my arm, she immediately made me her best attempt at a splint using some sticks and an old ripped shirt, as well as helping me into a makeshift sling using the same ripped shirt. Given the circumstances, it was as good as a cast, but she didn't know the extent of the damage and I couldn't do anything more.
The first two days were a struggle, mainly because nobody knew what to do nor where to go. That was when the horrible acceptance of losing several members of our team, including one of our coaches, hit everyone hard. We all pitched in to bury them, though I wasn't able to do much with my arm, and held a funeral for them.
After the funeral ended, everybody stuck together in the vicinity of the crash. A few lingered away, probably trying to figure out where the hell we were, but I just wanted a sense of familiarity and stayed to open my suitcase which I'd luckily found. Unfortunately for me, the zipper required two hands, and only one of mine seemed to be available right now.
"Hey."
I sighed, looking up to see Jackie Taylor, the soccer team captain, standing there with her arms hugging herself. I hadn't spoken to her properly since before we set off, she'd mostly just stuck with Shauna, her best friend.
"Hey," I greeted, unsure what she wanted.
She nodded to my terrible sling. "How's your arm?"
"Very painful," I admitted, "but coach literally lost his leg, so I can't complain."
She frowned at my words, but it wasn't exactly an exaggeration. Misty had quite literally chopped Coach Scott's leg off when he got it trapped under the wing of the plane, and it wasn't an easy thing to deal with physically or mentally. A broken arm was nothing compared to an amputation.
"How are you?" I asked. She didn't look hurt, just tired and scared like the rest of us.
She shrugged helplessly, and I didn't need any elaboration. I nodded, acknowledging her, and then she said, "Do you need help with whatever you're doing?"
I looked down, remembering the dumb suitcase I couldn't open. "That would be great actually, yes. Can you hold it whilst I unzip it?"
She nodded and kneeled down, acting as my other hand whilst I unzipped my suitcase. It was a relief to finally open it, seeing everything was as I'd left it before we boarded the plane. That felt like a lifetime ago now.
"If you need help with anything else, just ask," Jackie said, making me look up to see her watching me.
Grateful, I offered her a small smile. "Thanks, Jackie."
She returned the smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. She'd been the first to offer her help in the first place, since everyone was preoccupied by their own trauma, so I appreciated it. Truthfully, the last person I expected to offer help was Jackie, since she usually thought of herself first.
"You should get some medication off Misty," she added. "It'll help with the pain."
I swallowed hard, smile fading. "Right. Thanks."
She nodded and left, glancing at me once more as she did. I didn't really question it as I looked back at my suitcase, distracting myself from the pain.
Later that day, Misty found me instead, immediately pouring out the medication she'd collated from everyone's suitcases in front of me.
"Misty, what are you–?"
"I've got some pills for you," she said nonchalantly.
"Oh, my arm doesn't hurt that much," I lied. "Coach needs–"
"There's enough for Ben, silly," she said with a laugh, making me quirk a brow. "Besides, it's not for your pain, though it will help with that, it's for the inflammation. Without surgery, that's gonna take a while to heal and anything we have can help."
I sighed, nodding. "Alright. Thanks."
"I'll give you them every dose," she said, before holding out two pills. "Here you go."
I silently accepted them, knowing they'd help but feeling bad that I'd be taking them when Coach Scott needed them more.
Finding the lake and the cabin was a lifesaver, literally. We needed water and somewhere to sleep that wasn't so out in the open, and I was already struggling to sleep as it was so at least being inside made it a little easier.
Oddly enough, over the next few days since moving into the cabin, I'd noticed Jackie staring at me. If I ever caught her eye, she'd look the other way or flash me a smile before awkwardly doing something else. I wasn't sure what was up, and it only became more questionable when she'd help me out if I needed it.
There was one time when I was trying to pull my shoes on, but struggling to tie the laces with my one good arm.
"Here, I got it," she said, coming out of nowhere to lean down in front of me and take over.
I watched her with curiosity, letting her tie my laces. She must've caught me staring as she looked up, eyes bright as they met mine.
"What?" she asked, standing back up.
I shook my head. "Nothing... thanks."
She nodded, smiling a little before leaving me be. And that wasn't it. Other times I'd be trying to carry something and she'd take it from me without a word, or I'd be pulling on a shirt and she'd quite literally help me into it. It was odd, because she'd never paid me any mind before, and wasn't very helpful to others. The other girls aided me when they occasionally saw me struggling, but not as much as Jackie.
Another time, I was struggling to sleep in my makeshift bed on the floor of the cabin. Everybody had fallen asleep hours ago, but my movement was restricted because of my arm and the shuffling I was doing was only bothering me more.
"You move a lot," a voice said in the firelight, startling me.
I looked over the room, past my sleeping team members, and saw it was Jackie laying on her side next to Shauna but facing me.
"Sorry," I mumbled guiltily. "Did I wake you?"
She shrugged, not answering my question, before saying, "Try elevating your arm."
"What?"
"That's why you can't sleep, right?" she asked.
I blinked, surprised she'd even noticed. "Yeah."
She sat up slowly, stretching, before crossing the room to grab what looked like a jacket. My eyes followed her as she moved, then she rolled it up before kneeling down beside me and placing it underneath my bad arm. I winced as she did so carefully, glancing at me apologetically, but then I relaxed my arm on top of the jacket and breathed out slowly.
"Is that better?" she asked quietly. "Won't be touching the ground now."
I nodded. "Yeah. Thanks, Jackie."
"No problem," she said, before returning to her bed. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," I replied, very tired and very confused.
That was when I knew I needed to ask her why she was being so considerate, so out of character, at least to me anyway. The next morning, after I'd done the one thing I could do with my arm which was collecting water from the lake when we needed it, I was bringing it to Akilah who was boiling it over the fire. Unfortunately, I tripped over a stone on the way, almost dropping the bucket. Jackie came out of nowhere, taking it from my hand and leaving it with Akilah before returning to me.
"You okay?" she asked with a raised brow, hand wavering over my arm.
I tilted my head curiously. "I– yeah. I just..."
She smiled with confusion, shaking her head. "What is it?"
I stared at her like she'd grown a second head. "Why do you keep helping me? Checking on me?"
She scoffed playfully, looking away before saying, "I'm still your captain. Gotta make sure the team's okay, right?"
I narrowed my eyes suspiciously, but I didn't have anything else to believe, so I gave in with a nod. "Yeah..."
"Take it easy," she said, eyes flickering to my arm before she left me.
Since we'd been stranded here, I'd only rinsed off in the lake once. That was a week ago when we found it, but I knew I needed to bathe properly and, after taking my shower gel, shampoo and conditioner, I headed for the lake. Washing my body was a struggle because of my arm, which had swollen so much to the point that even accidentally grazing my body with it sent a shot of pain in me.
I managed to wash my body the best I could, getting my tee-shirt sling wet but unable to do much else, then struggled to wash my hair. It was stupid, the fact that I couldn't even open a bottle of shampoo with one hand and squeeze it out. So much that I got overwhelmed with how useless I'd been feeling lately and threw it behind me onto the shore. Sulking, I stayed sitting in the water, submerged up to my legs in my bra and underwear.
I missed home. I missed my mum and my dad and my sister. I missed playing soccer. I even missed school. But most importantly, I missed having two working arms and not constantly being in pain. The longer we stayed out here, the more we established a routine, the less likely it felt we would be rescued. It was all piling on top of me, my uselessness being the cherry on top.
Staring out into the horizon, I frowned. Ten more minutes must have passed with me giving up on washing my hair when I heard footsteps not far behind me. I didn't bother turning around, but then whoever it was called me.
"Hey!"
Sighing deeply, I glanced over my shoulder, so fed up with everything that even my usual surprise at Jackie's presence didn't affect me.
"You not coming out?" she asked, stood at the edge of the water, hands on her hips.
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and ignored her, looking forward again. Maybe she'd get the hint and leave me alone. Of course, she didn't.
"What's wrong?" she asked, and I pulled my knees up to my chest, hugging them.
"Nothing," I said, voice muffled.
I heard her sigh from behind me before her footsteps approached me, her feet splashing in the water.
"I'm bathing," I told her knowingly. "A little privacy would be nice."
She snorted with amusement before I heard her shuffling. Confused, I turned around and saw her pulling off her shorts before throwing them onto the rocky shore with her slippers, leaving her in her underwear and tee shirt.
"What are you doing?" I asked, puzzled.
She ignored me, instead grabbing the shampoo bottle I'd thrown back. Glancing at it and to me, she quirked a brow sarcastically. "This yours?"
I rolled my eyes and faced forward again, not bothering to acknowledge her presence as she seemed to be approaching me again. Only when she stood in front of me, blocking my view, and kneeled down to look at me was I forced to meet her gaze.
"D'you need help?" she asked softly, considerately.
Embarrassed, I looked down to my knees. Was it that obvious that I was struggling? Why was she the only one to check on me? The only one to notice? Why did she even care?
"Will you let me help you?" she asked when I didn't speak, and I finally looked up.
"Why?" I asked helplessly. "What's the point?"
She sat down cross-legged, unbothered by the water that was lapping against the bottom of her shirt. "For one, the smell in the cabin would go down significantly."
Realising she was joking, humour sparkling in her earth-coloured eyes, I scoffed and looked the other way. She began to laugh before patting my knee.
"Come on," she pleaded, laughter fading into a hopeful smile. "Please."
I didn't want anybody's help, especially not hers. But I needed it, and if she was being so kind as to come out here just to make sure I was okay, maybe it wasn't all so bad.
With a reluctant nod, I let her wash my hair for me, glad I wouldn't have to cause an ache in my other arm trying to do it. It was quiet as she did it, other than when she instructed me to dip my head in the water to wash out the shampoo and conditioner. Her fingers were delicate when she worked, massaging my head and putting me at ease instantly. I was still surprised at her aid, considering she'd always been preoccupied by herself or Shauna.
After I was done, she moved back in front of me, about to speak, but then her eyes caught sight of my swollen arm in my cast and widened.
"Woah, that looks painful," she noticed.
"Thanks," I said sarcastically.
"Are you taking the medicine Misty is giving you?" she asked with concern.
I tried not to hesitate as I nodded, lying. Truthfully, I hadn't been taking the medicine since a few days ago, as I knew Coach Scott's leg was at risk of infection if he didn't have enough. Besides, I'd taken some and the swelling had been going down. This was a bad day is all. Kind of.
"Okay, well...," she started, eyes lingering on my arm with an unreadable expression, before she stood up and held out her hand. "You're done. Come on."
I accepted her hand and she led me back to the shore, kindly helping me back into my clothes. After pulling her shorts and shoes on, I instantly hugged her with my good arm, certainly surprising her.
"Thanks, Jackie," I said sincerely, pulling back and seeing her raised eyebrows. "You don't know how good you're being."
She smiled, preoccupied. "Don't. I'm just helping."
I begged to differ, but she wasn't in the mood to hear it and I wasn't going to fight her on it. Instead, I just offered her a small smile before we both headed back to the cabin together.
Later that day, I was sat in the woods for some alone time, perched on a log and reading my book, when suddenly something was thrown right at me, startling me.
"What the hell?!" Jackie shouted, and I looked up to see she'd found me and was furious.
Confused, I looked to see what she'd thrown at me, only to realise it was the medication I hadn't been taking. Oh, no.
"You aren't taking it!" she shouted with exasperation.
I looked up to her, still baffled. "How did you even–”
"I'm not stupid," she snapped, before taking a deep breath to contain herself.
"It doesn't matter," I said calmly. "Coach needs them more. He's literally lost his leg and–"
"Why do you keep belittling your injury?!" she asked in a broken voice. "Nobody needs a hero, Y/N, just take the damn meds!"
The patronising tone she was using was it for me, and I suddenly stood up, unable to let her make me feel bad anymore.
"Why the hell do you even care, Jackie?" I retorted.
Taken aback, she raised her eyebrows before crossing her arms and avoiding my eyes. "I'm the cap–"
"Nobody gives a shit about that anymore!" I cut her off, before glaring at her. "You never paid me any mind before, so what gives now, huh? Did Jackie fucking Taylor suddenly grow a heart?"
She scoffed, rolling her eyes.
"Seriously, why the hell do you care all of a sudden?" I continued. "Why do you–?"
"Because it's my damn fault!" she said, and my anger was momentarily replaced by further confusion. She continued to ramble, "I didn't mean to, but the plane was on fire and Shauna was going to get hurt and I just rushed out of there without thinking and I didn't mean to push you and then you broke your arm and I feel guilty, okay?!"
Furrowing my brows, I studied her as she took a deep breath. Though she was stressed by her admission of guilt, I was oddly calm.
"That was just an accident," I said, unsure why it mattered to her so much. "If that's why you've been helping me, why you've been keeping an eye on me... you can stop. I'm not dying."
"Yeah, now," she said knowingly, guilt-laden eyes meeting mine, "but when a fucking bear comes out of nowhere and tries to eat you, what are you gonna do with one arm?"
It took me a second to realise she was dead serious, and I tried very hard not to smile.
"If a bear tried to eat me and I had my arm, I'd still get eaten," I said matter-of-factly. "You think I can take on a bear?"
She groaned with discontent. "You don't get it!"
I covered my mouth, struggling not to smile in front of her and piss her off more. She only fixed me with a classic Jackie glare.
"Just take the fucking meds," she said threateningly, in a way that was reminiscent of a cute dog barking, before storming off.
Admittedly, I had to pause and think about what the hell just happened, still a little lost. All this time, she'd been helping me out of guilt? She blamed herself for my broken arm? It was an accident and she couldn't have known what would happen. Tensions were high, it was chaos! I couldn't blame her even if I tried. It was almost laughable how she'd reacted, though at least it explained her sudden interest in my welfare.
When I returned to the cabin after her outburst, she glanced at me once but didn't bother speaking to me. And when I thought it would be a temporary thing, she began to ignore me over the next few days, actively avoiding me. If it weren't to share the cabin to sleep, she'd either completely leave the space I was in or go as far away from me as she possibly could. Could've been guilt, anger or embarrassment, I wasn't sure, but I knew it was extremely childish.
I was filling up a bottle of water from our basin when she rounded the corner and saw me, clearly wanting to do the same judging from her own bottle in hand. One glance my way and she was ready to leave, but I decided to make the first move after a week of not speaking.
"I'm not gonna bite," I pointed out.
She clenched her jaw with indifference. "I know."
A smile ghosted my lips as I focused on filling my bottle, and she surprisingly approached the basin and did the same. It was silent, the sound of our movement filling the air, but she was still tense beside me. It felt all wrong, especially after how supportive she'd been since we got here.
"I'm taking my medicine by the way," I said casually, but I wanted her to know that she hadn't wasted her breath. I'd listened.
"That's good," she spoke after a moment, trying not to sound too bothered.
"Yeah, I wasn't going to, but then this angry soccer player who was crushing under the immense guilt from foreshadowing my improbable yet supposedly imminent death by bear made me feel bad," I continued calmly.
She paused her action, glancing at me with a look of disbelief, and I couldn't hold in my laughter any longer. Her expression was priceless.
"Asshole," she muttered, but she was clearly trying not to smile.
I capped my bottle before saying, "This is awkward. Stop avoiding me, please. I don't hate you or anything. And you don't need to keep checking on me out of guilt. We can just... go back to normal, whatever that was."
She gave me a disapproving glance. "It wasn't just out of guilt."
I raised an eyebrow. "No?"
"Believe it or not, Y/N, I do care about you," she said, surprising me. And then she added quickly, "I care about everyone here."
Heart warming at her words, I began to feel bad for what I'd said to her when we argued. "Thanks," I said quietly. "And I'm sorry for what I said, about you suddenly growing a heart. Wasn't nice at all. Or true."
She shrugged awkwardly, looking down. "It's okay. I've been a bit selfish lately. I know the girls say it. Even Shauna thinks it.”
I looked over at her, noticing the conflicted expression she wore. Underneath her confident, cool girl demeanour was just a normal teenager like everyone else, and right now, she looked more and more like that.
"Not always," I reminded her, hoping she knew that I was still grateful for what she'd done for me since the crash, guilt or no guilt.
She exhaled softly, an appreciative smile on her lips, and I was beginning to question if breaking my arm was worth giving me a reason to get to know Jackie Taylor in a different way.
When there wasn't the threat of survival creeping up on us, or the fear of being stranded away from our lives back home forever, there was complete and utter boredom. There was only so many times you could play the same card games or read the same books without wanting to smack your head against a wall.
I realised soon enough that I missed playing soccer and one  day when I was having a wander near the cabin, I began to subconsciously kick around an acorn. That was where acorn soccer began. Now, whenever I was fed up doing the same thing all the time, I'd go into a little clearing near the cabin and start kicking around an acorn to have a sense of normalcy.
This time, as I was dribbling the acorn around some sticks, I heard someone approaching and glanced up to see it was Jackie.
"What are you doing?" she asked with both amusement and curiosity.
"Playing soccer," I said like it was obvious, before kicking the acorn in the air towards her. Instinctively, she caught it with her foot, stabilising it and letting it hit the ground gently. I cracked a smile, saying, "Someone's not lost their touch."
She rolled her eyes, a smile threatening to break out on her lips. "So this is where you disappear to?"
I quirked a brow. "Why? You keeping tabs?"
"You wish you were that interesting," she retorted, kicking around the acorn.
"Interesting enough for you to track down, clearly," I teased.
She glanced at me with a glint of humour in her eyes. "Maybe I just needed to make sure the bear didn't get you."
I grinned. "Aw, you do care! Nice to know you have my back."
At this, she finally let out a laugh, teeth showing and eyes sparkling and in such a way that I couldn't help but admire how pretty she looked right now.
"Okay, where's the goal?" she asked after a moment, pausing from kicking around the acorn.
"What?"
She gave me a look. "I'm bored too, now c'mon."
I chuckled and began to explain to her the unimpressive yet fulfilling setup I had, which consisted of me kicking the acorn between two trees as a 'net'. Once she was caught up, we found a bigger acorn together and began to play.
It was almost like we were back at soccer practice, playing and having fun and not having to worry about any impending doom. I'd forgotten how good it could feel to just be, and I'd especially forgotten how good Jackie was at soccer, making for the perfect opponent.
She scored for the third time and raised her hands in the air as she cheered for herself. "Hell yeah!"
"You see, this is why we got to nationals," I reminded her, making her laugh.
"God, I forgot how fun soccer was," she said with a sigh. "Clever idea with the acorn."
I shrugged. "Boredom struck. Creativity thrived."
She snickered, hands on her hips, before nodding at my arm. "Should you even be playing with your arm like that?"
I quirked a brow. "What you gonna do? Rat me out to Misty?"
She snorted with amusement. "She's too busy with Coach Scott to care."
I tried not to laugh, knowing Misty had been enjoying herself a little too much with looking after Coach Scott and his leg. It was clear she liked him, and though he was aware of how inappropriate it was, he had no choice but to accept her help. Yeah, the last thing on Misty's mind was if I was playing acorn soccer or not.
"Okay, you ready for the next one?" Jackie asked, already kicking the acorn into the centre to start again. "I might just take it easy on you this time. Y'know, because you're at a disadvantage."
I glared at her playfully, ignoring the way her cocky grin made me feel. "Game on, Taylor."
Since that point, I'd found myself looking out for Jackie a little more than usual. I guess you could say she'd piqued my interest more than she ever had. Back home, she was my team captain and that was it. We never really hung out outside of practice or soccer parties because our circles never crossed over. Now though, with her looking out for me and hanging out with me more, I was beginning to develop a little crush on her.
I would've been insane not to. She was funny, flirty, smart and she always knew what she wanted. And it was probably silly of me to crush on the one girl I could never get, but it certainly made my current situation a bit more manageable. Nothing like a teenage crush to get your mind off reality.
I liked to think I was subtle with it, the whole checking out Jackie every now and then. It was only when she was a fair distance away and there was no chance she would spot me. But one morning, as I was helping Akilah boil some more water from the lake, I spotted Jackie walking out of the cabin with Shauna. It was nothing different, but for some reason, she just looked extra stunning this morning. I wasn't sure what it was – possibly my own delusion – but I couldn't stop stealing looks at her.
And then she glanced my way, catching my eye, and before I could even react, embarrassed I'd been caught out, a knowing smile appeared on her lips and she winked playfully before paying her attention back to Shauna. I swallowed, flustered, and didn't look at her again for the rest of the day. Stupid crush.
163 notes · View notes
friedwizardwhispers · 4 months
Text
The : "You two are acting like an old married couple" from Luke's point of view is very interesting. As much as I like the joke of him being the first percabeth shipper, I don't think it's that, I think he was worried.
We can assume he probably wanted Annabeth to join his side. I would even guess she was the first one he wanted on his side and he saw how they didn't really get along at camp, right ?
I don't think he would want them to be friends at all and I think he expected them to continue to not be friends. Percy assumed they would never be friends before episode 3, I'm guessing Luke made the same guess.
If they are friends and he has to kill Percy, which he attempted to do before the scorpion, with the shoes and she figures it out, he loses her forever. There is no way Annabeth would go with Luke if he killed someone she is friends with and he knows it.
The closer she is with Percy, the less chance he has to sway her to his side.
And because he is going to try to recruit Percy at the end of this book, the opposite is also true. If he is closer friends with Annabeth and she doesn't take his side (and considering her character before the quest and how much she loved her mother, it was a real possibility that she wouldn't), the closer Percy is to her, the less chance he has to switch which means actually killing him, a 12 year old (a thing that might be more difficult when the child is in front of you than when you just send him on his way with flying shoes).
243 notes · View notes
bitchb0ybunny · 5 months
Text
How TF141 would react to you crying when they pick you up..
Cant sleep, have a doctors appointment real early in the morning, and can't get this out of my head as a plus-sized person. Please enjoy this, I'm so tired :3
-Ghost would probably be one of the only ones of the group to actually understand why you started crying.. He's seen you stare at yourself in the mirror, he's watched you change clothes a million times because you didn't like how your stomach was showing, or how the open back of a top showed off your back rolls, or how your thighs refused to be contained by the leggings you squeezed yourself into over the course of fifteen or so minutes. He knew you didn't like your body, and that because of your size and weight you hadn't been picked up in a long time. Nobody had even attempted it since you were young.
So when he randomly picked you up at the grocery store and held you up so you could reach something on the back of the top shelf, holding you up as if you weighed nothing because he most certainly has had to carry and/or hold a lot heavier things, he knew why you started crying almost immediately. When he you eventually grab what you couldn't reach beforehand, he sets you down and holds you tightly, letting you cry and mumble for a few minutes before you two kept shopping. "Shh... shh... it's alright, sweetheart.. No, no, you're not to heavy for me, not even close... Let it out, your alright.."
-Soap would be confused.. Why are you crying? He just picked you up and moved you to a different couch cushion so he could sit with you. Did he hurt you? Why are tears streaming down those adorable little round cheeks? Did he grab you too hard, move you too suddenly and scare you? You had looked half asleep, so maybe? Had he made you uncomfortable, overwhelmed you maybe? He was confused and worried, he thought he did something wrong.. Doesn't really know what to do, but will comfort you as best as he can once he finds out why you started crying. "Bonnie, I dinnae mean to hurt ya-... Ya didn't expect me ta move ya? 'Too heavy'? Sure, yer a bit of a challenge, but I'm a strong lad. I've carried 'lot heavier."
-Price Probably a mix of confusion and understanding.. At first, he was like Soap. He thought he hurt you, he's been a Soldier for 20+ years so sometimes he forgets his own strength, but would immediately understand after asking a few questions..
"Did I hurt you, love? You a'right?.. Awh, don't give me that, sweetheart. Just cause I got a bit of a tummy don't mean I can't pick you up, I'm still a Soldier y'know." Would definitely laugh a little at his own comments or jokes.. He's got that 'I dont care, Im old and tired' kinda view on it. "'m old, tired, and scarred. Just happy someone as gorgeous as yourself finds the time to love me, I don't care if you have stretch marks or rolls or somethin... Hell, I got 'em too."
-Gaz would probably be confused as all hell, but still try and comfort you.. He had just picked you up cause he wanted a quick snuggle, after all. "Hey, hey, what're those tears about, beauty? Don't cry, y'got nothin to cry about right now, I gotcha.." Would definitely hold you a bit tighter, rubbing his hands along your sides even if you have rolls that make it a little bit difficult. He loves your rolls & your chub, loves to trace along your stretch marks when you cuddle at night.. He figures it out a little while later, but doesn't say anything to you. He doesn't want to make you embarrassed.. But you do notice that he's picking you up more often, often picking you up while giving you a big 'ole bear hug.. He loves you, after all, so why not use his extra muscles from work to show that?
262 notes · View notes
remderance · 1 year
Text
so...few days ago I've created a hermitcraft mermaid au. and here ya go, some of my thoughts about it and also my drawings.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
first of all, cub, grian, zedaph, tango, joehills, xisuma and impulse are humans, when scar, doc, pearl, skizz, cleo are mermaids(I didn't think of other hermits yet)
here's also a bit of lore happening, so let's talk little bit about every hermit.
•xisuma
- he is an owner of this whole circus oceanarium and ocean research center.
- he is a strange guy, once he even stole a bone from rendog to chew on! but nonetheless, he is a hard working man and he does all the managing work better than anyone else possibly could
•scar
- cub and grian were the first to find alive mermaid, which happened to be scar. scar, as the most kind and innocent soul, of course, most of the time spent saving sea creatures from fishing nets, plastic junk and etc, though got a lot of injuries himself. he had been in an accident just before he was caught, so he didn't have a chance to escape due to movement issues, because his tail and fins were badly injured
- scar is an orca! but he won't eat you, don't worry. he might try, though
- most of the time there is only one scientist watching him, and it is cub. even though at first cub was too serious about his job, depicting scar more like an object other than a living creature with thoughts and feelings, it was gone in a little while when two of them had a chance to actually know each other more. you could say, scar softened cub's heart
- he is a silly boy, trying to escape his aquarium probably every day at first, thinking of place as a prison. none of his attempts were successful, to be honest, but he never stopped trying
- also, once he even got in a physical fight with grian, being mad that he was in the team who catched him. who won? for some reason it was grian, who is smaller twice in size and not so good underwater
- grian got in trouble many times because of his experiments and especially testing human food on scar. once he had serious food poisoning because of it, and cub never let grian be alone near scar's aquarium again
- scar once asked for human meat and got a "cubfan live reaction". canniballism is pretty common between mermaids, so he was expecting the same from humans
•doc
- doc is a giant moray eel.
- you could say he is the most intelligent and smart fish you've seen! not just by mermaid standards, but by human too. before the oceanarium he was living in an old warship, where he found a room with books that were not touched by water. that's where from he knows chemistry, physics, engineering and other, that's also where he learned english better, as he is originally from german waters(scientists where really impressed that mermaid could have an accent).
- but this ship happened to be in a military zone, where people one time were testing a bomb and underwater explosion happened. doc nearly made it out alive, though got almost incompatible with life injuries. he couldn't be healed by wrapping wounds with seaweed, so he decided to go to humans to the research center by himself, making a deal: he agreed to be studied for science purposes but got a proper treatment for his injuries in return.
- by that point, he was second one to be "caught"
- he is really smart and he will not be missing an opportunity to squeeze out everything from people working there. he got the best aquarium with the best accessories, rocks, corals and filters. it took almost over a year to figure all of this out and a lot of pressure on workers, but doc is not feeling guilty
- he really likes to eat tomatoes
- he also really likes to get out of his tank and go on an adventure to other mermaids. scar is living nearest to him, so you could often see these two hang out
- he created the word "scitties" and scar likes to use it (especially in situations when he is suggested to wear clothes. he says his scitties are too precious to hide them)
- after some time doc became the first mermaid scientist. his high intelligence just couldn't be ignored
- doc helped to create prosthetic fins and tail for scar
- eventually there was created a special gadget just for doc, so he could easily speak with other scientists even being under the water
- scientist connected to him is grian. they are in good terms and grian totally acknowledges his cleverness. gridoc nation rise up
•ren
- oh sweet, sweet rendog! you just couldn't guess what he is. he is... a dog, simple as that. but a smart one!
- although, he doesn't like meat. he is a vegetarian dog!
- his duty mostly is to deliver food to mermaids. he doesn't like to deliver food to scar as it's mostly chocolate chip cookies and lots of raw meat, and he totally adores to visit doc because of his love for tomatoes
- doc likes to escape, and ren likes doc, so he always goes after him with a mop in his teeth to hide water paddles he is creating
- ren is well-trained and all of the staff knows him, so he has access to almost every room in both oceanarium and research center
- he likes to sleep near doc's aquarium. sometimes doc goes out of water at night, waits for his hand to dry and gently pets him
- oh. and ren also has a very specific addiction. this little fur boy always steals people's sunglasses. why does he do that? why does a dog even need sunglasses? nobody knows. but that is such a common thing, that nobody even cares anymore. yep, there's a dog running around in sunglasses, what is wrong with that?
•here's the fun part. beloved zits!!!
- impulse is the only one true ocean scientist in their group
- zedaph lived most of his life on a farm and knows pretty much everything about farm animals. he is a crazy zoologist and has basically zero idea how to deal with fish
"that's a weird looking chicken", - he says, looking at any mermaid
- tango is an engineer and a drummer in his own band. he slays and also he has a lot of tattoos
- although tango's band isn't zit band, they were playing together in college! they all had their rock phase, zedaph even has scars from piercings made in that time
- the star of our show... skizzleman!! skizz for short, he is a manta ray, and he is going mental. he screams, he bites, he fights, he likes to bother others and especially impulse
- skizz made impulse fall in his tank for countless amount of times
- skizz and impulse often fight, verbally and physically, but also for some reason their bond is very strong. they like each other, just in a different way, but their way to this was very hard
- and yep, he is the reason why all of the zit are here. he's just too strong and uncontrollable for one human to handle, so impulse had to get his friends
- skizz is very clumsy and can't exist out of water due to being a manta ray, so trying to escape he makes just one step and then is found right outside the aquarium angry and waiting for someone to come and put him back
•pearl and gem
- pearl is a blue-ringed octopus!
- she spent a lot of time near the shore at the port and most of the time was listening to people, trying to guess meaning of unknown words and adoring strange human stories. it happened in australia, that is the place where she got an accent. it is an exceptional case too, but unlike doc, this accent is not natural, but a learned one
- pearl's only and favourite piece of clothing is a hoodie with oceanarium logo
- as a natural enemy, doc fears to go near pearl. when he is asking her if she's safe, she never gets him a clear answer
- gem is doing mermaid shows! yes, she is not a real one, she just has her costume and adorable coral horns
- oceanarium got gem a tank to exercise and to rehearse her shows. it appeared that pearl was basically living alongside. they liked each other at first sight, but for months weren't able to communicate well, it was only through body language
- pearl sees gem as a goddess for her elegant, exquisite and beautiful movements. no real mermaid moves like that, so that's just something so exotic and unreal in pearl's eyes, it makes her stare without blinking every time
- once impulse was in charge of caring for pearl and he saw what happened between two. he got a permission for gem to visit pearl's aquarium, and that was the first time they got to really know each other. it was the happiest day!!!
- gem is the only one who can calm down skizz and make him feel fear. nobody understands how, but sometimes impulse asks her when skizz is getting unbearable
- impulse, gem and pearl are often seen hanging out together. they created a trio called "soup group". the name was created because of pearl's unexplainable love for soups of any kind
• cleo and joe
- cleo is a sea snake
- she has fish hooks and spear parts in her on places where in canon she usually would get stitches
- she is basically a nature miracle, because she is a zombie, literally dead creature, but for some reason she keeps on going
- half of her organs are not working properly or are not working at all
- because of doc and cleo scientists guess that mermaids are far stronger and tougher than people, as they tend tο survive even in the most dangerous and unreal situations
- also doc and cleo are extremely big
- not to mention these two are really fond of each other. their tanks are located far away, but doc sometimes gets to cleo and they have the best time in the whole world
- joe is an ocean geek who once won an excursion behind the scenes of oceanarium and research center. that's where he met cleo, and for some reason she caught his eye
- he was very persistent and got a permission to sometimes meet cleo under supervision. it was said, that it is good for experience in interspecies communication, so scientists didn't mind
- though, he didn't do anything inappropriate. he was basically just finding a friend in a strange zombie mermaid! he showed her his favourite shows, comic books, was teaching cleo how to read, they were drawing and scrapbooking with her. just a couple of ocean besties!
- although joe cooks and brings mostly exotic or strange foods, cleo likes it a lot
- cleo likes to scare people and mermaids, but when she tried to scare joe she saw only pure excitement in his eyes
•honorable mention, mumbo, who is a plumber and engineer. everyone keeps calling him mario. he even got a big m on his head!
also: it is canon that all of the mermaids are kind of buffed
1K notes · View notes
sweaterweatherever · 1 year
Text
Truce (Xavier Thorpe x reader)
In which the most famous rivals from Nevermore call a truce for a game night and figure out they don't hate each other nearly as much as they thought.
Pairing: AFAB Reader x Xavier Thorpe.
Warnings: Smut. +18 only. Enemies to lovers, underage drinking, cursing, drunk making out, oral sex (Female receiving) protected vaginal sex. (You know it, wrap it before you tap it)
A/N: Aged up characters, maybe their last year but 18 or older (Actor is 21) First attempt at smut and first post ever. Not a native english speaker, so be gentle. My request are always open!!!
Tumblr media
You couldn't remember how it started, but as long as you remembered, Xavier Thorpe and you were rivals. You were in each other's throats all the time, in and out of the art room. While you weren't a psychic capable of art animation, you had known since you were five years old that you would make art for a living. Unfortunately, you could recognize talent when you saw it, and Thorpe had it in spades. But did it really mean something when he probably had the best teachers money could buy?
Yes, you envied him. You did and weren't ashamed to admit it. He had the safety net and resources you so wanted to pursue your passion. He had cool, helpful powers and money to support him. You… well. It's not like you were poor, but your parents had to work hard for a living. You came from a middle class family, who was betting everything on you graduating from Nevermore with good grades and getting into a college with a sensible major.
So, no. You didn't like Thorpe. You were only tolerating him for the sake of Wednesday. She was the one you liked. It wasn't mutual, by any chance, but her attending Nevermore helped you. She took Thorpe out of your hair often enough. Like last semester, while he was busy panting after her like a lovesick puppy, you got loads of time alone in the shed Weems forced you to share.
Besides, Yoko had begged you to come, she didn't want to be the third wheel between the couples. And you liked Enid too. Yeah, you were only showing up for this game night for the girls.
Thorpe always found something to pick on you about, so you took special care in your appearance, but not enough to look like you made an effort, because if he noticed, he surely would laugh about it too. Yoko didn't comment on your sudden need to put lip gloss and mascara on, except from a snide remark about hugging the mirror.
You entered Wednesday and Enid's dorm carrying a bag full of cheap alcohol. You weren't a drinker, but as the shape-shifter on the group, you were the one who bought it looking like an elderly lady. Elderly enough to not get asked for ID. Ajax cheered at seeing you, startling Enid, who was reclined against his chest. Wednesday only looked at you, unblinking. And Thorpe…
“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in…the half assed Mystique.” He was sitting on Wednesday's desk, looking like an overgrown parrot and surely making a nuance out of himself. You tried not to stare at the way his impossibly long legs extended, and his hair was pulled back from his face, showing a pale, long neck.
“Does that make you Charles Xavier?” You quipped, looking at Thorpe with eyes full of venom. “Because if so, darling, you surely need cerebro.”
“Charming.” He smiled at you, eyes squinting in a way that was obviously fake. “As always.”
“I know. I can't help it. Being nice to you is an act of charity.” You passed the bag to Yoko, and sat down in the middle of the floor, eyeing the game Enid, Ajax, and Wednesday seemed to be playing. It was something with… Envelopes?
“Could you two cease your meaningless squabbling?” Wednesday asked, and you finally realized they were playing Clue. “We are trying to solve a murder here.”
“Yeah, just cut it with the foreplay and fuck already.” Ajax took a beer out of the bag and opened the can. Which one, disgusting, two, rude. You were more offended at the fact he opened your fucking bag without permission than the joke, used to it already. Everyone loved enemies to lovers, after all. And Nevermore teens weren't so different as they liked to think.
“No, thanks. I'm done with charity for today.” You said instead of voicing all that out loud.
“Are you so full of yourself, princess?” Thorpe asked, and you felt the impulse to throttle him. You hated that nickname, maybe because you liked it a bit much, and that made it a can of worms you didn't want to open. You took a deep breath, ignoring his satisfied smirk at being able to rattle you.
“No. But we both know I'm so out of your league, lover boy, it's not even looking like a league, but instead two different galaxies.”
“Ohh, kitty got claws…” Yoko snickered, taking a sip of her pre prepped Bloody Mary. Wednesday looked vaguely amused at the situation, while Ajax was just nursing his beer happily. Enid was looking anxious, probably anticipating when one of you would cross the line and go from petty snarking at each other into a full-blown fight.
“Sure you are, pretty girl. Sure you are. Especially when we talk about talent, because I make your drawings look like…” So he was the one crossing the line tonight. A dig at your artwork? That was a new low, even for him. Good to know. But before you opened your mouth to say something that would probably make him snap, Enid interrupted.
“That's enough!” Enid said, with a tense smile. “How about we play another game?”
“Sure.” You said, tersely. Thorpe made a face, probably mocking you. You ignored him.
“What you have in mind, babe?” Ajax asked.
“Surely something so stereotypical and inane like Never have I ever or Truth or Dare.” Wednesday drawled, picking up the bag of alcohol and tossing back a shot of cheap whiskey like it was nothing. “I'm not drunk enough to partake yet.” She explained.
“Ohh, Never have I ever sounds fun with this crowd.” Enid said, taking a beer out of the bag and passing it to you. “Xavier, get closer.” Enid ordered.
“So, the options are terrible, and I'm not touching Wednesday's whiskey because that shit will lift paint.“ Thorpe said, squatting next to you and taking a peek at the bag. You already knew it´s contents, being the one who had bought it. Thing was, your budget was limited, so you had warm beer, the cheapest whiskey in the store and flavored vodka. You went for the vodka, but Thorpe's hand grabbed your arm and stopped you. “What do you say, truce, and we share?”
“You got yourself a deal, Thorpe.” The idea of having to share the bottle with him was more appealing than having to drink warm beer, and you could be generous once in a blue moon.
“Please, call me Xavier.” He grinned, all boyish charm, and suddenly you could see the appeal.
“Y/N then.” You said, passing him the bottle. Xavier opened it and offered it to you. You just held onto it, suddenly realizing that without glasses, you and Xavier would have to drink straight from it. You put it down.
“Alright, everyone who did it drinks.” Enid remembered. “I'll go first, never have I ever stolen anything.”
Wednesday rolled her eyes, but took a shot out of her whiskey. You went to grab at the bottle, but Xavier was faster, taking a swing of it before you.
“Fuck, we were wrong. This is so bad, even Wednesday thing is better.” He said to you, grimacing.
“Give me that, crybaby.” You said, taking your own shot of the bottle and almost spluttering. The vodka tasted like a straight out rubbing alcohol, burning at your throat and almost feeling it in your nose. Your eyes felt runny. “I take it back.” You gasped.
“Okay, so Wednesday has a story of it but,“ Yoko said and Wednesday looked proud. ”What did Xavier and Y/N stole? He surely seems the type, but I didn't think Y/N…”
“Nope. Not talking about it.” Xavier smirked. “What about you, princess?”
“Oh, it's a boring story. When I was a child, my mom loved to go to home decor stores, and there was this one in particular that had ceramic display, for the bathroom and stuff. Every time we went, I took the smallest and most colorful tile, until my mom caught me.” You said, and Wednesday looked disappointed. What could you said, you weren't exactly a criminal mastermind. Ajax and Yoko took one look at you and started laughing uncontrollably.
“That's…” Enid started saying, no doubt trying to be kind.
“Kind of cute, actually. So you always loved colors?” Xavier asked, and you couldn't figure out if he was making fun of you or not, so you answered pretty neutral.
"I always loved art, if that's what you are asking me.” He gave you a look you couldn't descifrate.
“Okay, my turn. Never have I ever… Let's make this fun, guys… Thought Xavi was the Hyde." Ajax said, with a smirk. You sighed, relieved you didn't have to drink anymore of that thing.
Wednesday, Enid, and Yoko all took sips from their drinks.
"Really?" Ajax asked, looking at you.
"He was always alone with me in the woods. He clearly hates me, but never did anything and trust me, he had the chance. Besides, Thorpe here is a softie." You explained, rubbing a ink stain on your finger. Your tongue felt looser than usual. The vodka must have been strong, so you decided to pace yourself from here on.
"I don't hate you." Xavier muttered, when the rest had lost interest.
"Sure you don't."
"Right. Never have I ever worn pink." Wednesday deadpanned. You took a shot, and so did everyone else in the group.
By the time it was your turn, you were, well, not drunk but close enough. You had been careful, only taking little sips because you were drinking vodka straight from the bottle. You had been slowly leaning onto Thorpe's space, and he didn't seem to care. He was, just like you, an affectionate drunk.
"Never have I ever… Had a crush on Wednesday." Both Xavier and Enid drank. You suppressed a smile.
“That. That.” Yoko said, taking a gulp of her Bloody Mary. “I didn't see coming.”
“You can both lose all your hopes now. “ Wednesday said, with a murderous glint in her eyes. “I don't have any desire to become a clone of my parents.”
“Are you trying to get me drunk, princess? Because that felt targeted.” Xavier put an arm around your shoulders, putting the bottle of vodka on the floor.
“Keep telling yourself that.” You snorted. “So the crush is over?”
“Real subtle.” Ajax muttered, sharing a glance with Enid.
“That your way of asking about my relationship status?”
“Nope. Just curious.”
“Oh, princess, you are so dumb it's funny.” Xavier smirked, his hand playing with a stray lock of your hair.
“Asshole.” You didn't attempt to remove his hands from your person, because, well, you were drunk, and he was warm and comfortable. Only that.
Wednesday suddenly stood up, walking towards her cello.
“I find myself in need to ponder something. You can leave if you want.”
“Wednesday!” Enid chided. “Don't be rude.” But the back haired girl was already playing the first accords of “La Llorona” which you didn't think was going to work in a cello, but it did.
“Ohhh, talent show.” Yoko clapped. “Surely Y/N and Xavier could show off too…?”
“Only one of us here can animate things, and it's certainly not me.” You said, finally getting up. The room did not move, which you thought was a good sign. You felt a little wobbly, but you could manage.
“Come on, Y/N.” Enid insisted. “Don't you want to finally settle your rivalry?”
“Not when he has an unfair advantage and an already inflated ego.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Don't be mean, princess. We can even use your preferred medium, only pencil and paper. No powers, I swear.”
“Fine.” You stole two pencils and a notebook from Wednesday's desk. “What will we draw?” You asked, offering one to him. You were seriously hoping he didn't ask for something with straight lines, because you weren't sure you were sober enough for it.
“Do me! Do me!” Enid begged. You looked at Xavier, his eyes shining with a competitive glint.
“Fine by me.” He said, turning, so he was sitting in front of you.
“Thirty minutes?” You asked.
“Fifteen.” He said, and you barely hummed, getting started with the warms up immediately.
“Hey, that's cheating.” Xavier complained, batting at your paper and pouting. He looked like a petulant child, which made you suspect he was drunker than he looked.
“Only warm-ups.” You said, showing the paper to him. He nodded.
“Start in one, two, go!” Ajax said, setting a timer on his phone. Almost immediately, you took another piece of paper, barely glancing at Enid's smiling face. You knew her, she had a sweet face, which made it easier. Not a lot of contrasts there or any hard lines. Your hand practically flew over the paper, frantically sketching and adding depth.
You snuck a quick glance at Xavier, who was intently staring at Enid. You looked at her face too, making sure the proportions were right. Then, noticing you only had five minutes left, you put the pencil down and started making the shadows with your fingers, the quick and dirty way to add depth to your painting. You pulled a hair out of your face, barely pausing your frenetic shading and unable to shake the smile out of your face. You were having fun, you realized. This, this was what you liked about competing with Xavier. It got your blood pumping, and it made your passion and your art even better.
“Time, guys!” Yoko called, and opened another Bloody Mary. You turned towards Xavier, seeing your manic grin perfectly reflected on his face. He showed his drawing to you, so you did the same. His Enid was facing forward, hands held excitedly behind her back, smiling. Your Enid had a fiercer look to her, probably from the different perceptions you both had of her. You had chosen to focus only on her face, going full detail with it. You needed to work on her depth, to make it less two-dimensional. While Xavier's Enid was better in that aspect, almost looking like she was going to jump out of the pages, her hair was wrong. He had been unable to shade it right, and it ended up looking like she was a brunette instead of a blonde with colorful streaks.
“Oh my god, I love it!” Enid screamed. ”Thank you, guys!”
But Xavier seemed distracted, staring intently at your face.
"What?" You asked, defensively.
"Uh, you got something on your face." He pointed vaguely in the direction of your face.
" Where?" You asked, rubbing at your cheek.
"You are making it worse" Then, going forward on his knees, he cuped your face gently. His hand is big, almost swallowing your face. He has never been so bold. "Just let me…" His thumb rubs right under your eye, but Xavier frowns. It must be graphite. You know from personal experience, it is hard to take off. You stare into his eyes, feeling strangely comforted by the way his gaze softened. He's got you feeling warm all over, and it's weird, considering this is your rival. You lower your eyes, but Xavier just grasps your chin more firmly, wetting his thumb. You don't say anything, you don't even move, yet you feel your cheeks heating up. Xavier swipes his thumb against your face again. Suddenly, someone cleared their throat. Xavier's hands drop, and you pull back so fast you end up nearly on Ajax's lap.
“So, who won?” Xavier asked, casually.
“Don´t know man, it´s pretty even.”
“Yeah.” Yoko said. “Maybe we should ask Wednesday.”
“If someone can be impartial, it´s her.” You agreed.
“Care to make it interesting, princess?”
“Sure.”
“If I win, we go to the shed and you let me teach you how to paint with oil. If you win, we do whatever you want.”
“If I win, you convince the principal to give both of us the commission for the mural in Jericho.” Thing was, the major had said it could only be one of you. But if Xavier convinced the principal, maybe…
“That´s fair.”
"Wednesday, which one is better?"
"While this one got the hair color wrong, it looks more real."
"Ha!" Xavier grins. "Get up, princess. You got a new skill to learn."
"Now?" You ask.
"Do you have anything better to do?" And the answer is no, not really. It's a Friday night and the semester has barely started. You don't have any homework or tests coming up. Xavier gets up and offers you a hand. You take it, letting him pull you to your feet. He doesn't let go of your hand, walking you towards the door. "Nice party" Xavier says to Enid, who looks startled. Ajax just laughs.
"You aren't going to kill each other, right?" Yoko asked, giving a pointed glance to the way Xavier was grabbing your hand in his. You could tell she was concerned. Xavier was taller than you by at least ten inches and while he wasn't very muscled, he could easily overpower you. Besides, you were drunk. No, you mentally corrected yourself giving Xavier a look, at the way he almost trembled with nervous energy, you both were.
"We aren't." You squeezed Xavier's hand, and that was it.
The walk towards the shed was silent. You didn't know what to think. This was a face of Xavier you had never seen directed at you and it was making something flutter on your stomach. You knew he was talented and handsome, but most of the time, that took a secondary place because he was making fun of you or screaming at you. Xavier had always had a sweet side, just not with you.
"Right." Xavier opened the door and started setting everything up. " I kind of owe you an apology."
"You do?" You extended a sheet on the floor, having watched enough times Xavier paint to know it would get messy.
"I said once you were a one hit wonder." The smooth flex and roll of his hips when he settles a heavy canvas on an easel makes you stare. You try to focus on how that has you off your game and not in the fight he's referring to. That one had stung. You didn't know why he was bringing it up now, but you definitely wanted to forget it. “Recently, someone made me realize I was taking for granted the privilege of being born in an well off family.”
“Was that Wednesday?” You asked, accepting the brush he was offering.
“She might have said something about a silver spoon.” You laughed. Obviously, the only person capable of making him see sense was fucking Wednesday Addams.
“So, then it didn´t occur to me you might draw all the time with pencil and charcoal because your parents…”
“Yeah, can we not?” You said sharply. You absolutely didn't want to discuss how your parents didn't like your passion and would never support it. Your tongue was way too loose with the alcohol and you were afraid of revealing more than you were comfortable with.
“I´m not saying we need a heart to heart.” He mixed something up in a palette, with an efficiency that could only come from practice. You admired the way it was so second nature to him, he could do it drunk. “But I´m sorry. And I would like if we could stop fighting all the time. I was an asshole.”
“You weren´t the only one. But if you can forgive me, I will forgive you too.”
“Great then. You are welcome to use any of the materials I might have lying around, just don´t touch any work on progress and if you…”
“Excuse me?!” Was he seriously offering what you thought he was offering? Like you were some poor charity case?
“I said that you can share the materials with me.” He patiently stated, giving you the palettes. “Anytime.”
“I'm not some charity case or a damsel in distress to feed your ego complex.” You gave back the brush, forcing him to take it. “I don't want this. I don't need your money.”
“It's not that!” Xavier sighted, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, I don't know how I keep fucking things up with you so spectacularly. What I'm trying to say it's that you are a great artist, and you have no chance of competing with me if we are not in even conditions. I have materials to practice, you don't.”
“Why the hell would I even want to compete with you? I thought we weren't going to fight anymore.”
“Oh, you are not this dense, princess. I know you have something more than just air inside that pretty head of yours.”
“I have no clue what you are talking about.” You said, making a face.
“You can't tell me you didn't felt it before.” Xavier said, walking towards you. “The rush, the adrenaline high it gives us, the way you feel more alive. When we are making art, side by side, it's like the world melts away…”
“And nothing else matters. It's like your passion for art gets multiplied tenfold.” You completed, smiling sadly. “Yeah, I know the feeling.”
“Don't you see it, then? We push each other, we make the other a better artist. I want more of that in my life. My best pieces had come from competing with you. I am giving you the same advantages I have.”
“Not the same. “ You said, cleverly. “I don´t have a clue of how to use all of this.”
“Good thing you got yourself a teacher.” Xavier smirked. “If you agree to it.”
“Go ahead, then. What´s the first thing to know about oil painting?” You said, lifting up the brush.
“First thing to know, this is not charcoal or a pencil.” You threw him a look over your shoulder, like he was stating the obvious. “Can I touch you?” He asked.
“Sure.” Xavier stepped behind you, lightly grabbing your wrist and kicking at your feet to widen your stance. Then, he corrected your grip on the brush, pushing your fingers near the end of it.
“You need to make your movements fluid or else the brush strokes will look odd. You can just stop a trace, you need to make them flow.” With that piece of advice, he guided your hand into drawing a line, curving it slightly when he got to the end. “But if you want texture, then you should just go for it.”
“Really?” You asked, turning slightly your head to look at him and accidentally reclining your head on his chest. Suddenly, his face was close to yours. Way to close. You could count the specks of blue and grey on his eyes, see clearly the darker rim around his iris. Maybe it was the pose, or the vodka, but something about the way Xavier was looking at you was making your breath catch in your throat. This was a bad idea. Oh god, it was the mother of all bad ideas. Xavier´s eyes dropped to your lips, still frozen in a small, teasing smile. Then, back, to your eyes. He was asking permission, surely knowing this was a bad idea. But instead of saying something, you let the brush clatter to the floor, forgotten, and fully turned. Then, looking at him directly in the eyes and lifting yourself on your tiptoes, you went in for the kiss.
Xavier´s hands went immediately to your face, gently cradling it upwards. He smelt like turpentine and paint, and something so him it made you smile into the kiss. His mouth was soft against you, and tasted like the cheap vodka you were both drinking. You wondered if he thought the same about you. Xavier kept the kiss gentle, giving you ample of opportunity to pull away, but you didn´t want to. You pulled him closer, making him stumble and you both nearly fell over the canvas. Without breaking the kiss, one of his hands went immediately to steady you. You laughed a little, startled when he did the same into the kiss. He pressed more into your space, finally sending the easel, the palette, and canvas all crashing down in a giant mess. You could stop this time the laugh thath came over you and neither could he. You pulled apart, looking at the splatters of paint on the floor and kept laughing.
“We are acting like kids.” He said, but was unable to keep the smile off his face.
“I put a sheet before.” You smiled at him when he looked at you like you had just hung the moon or something. “Besides, we are drunk.”
“Yeah.” He said, peppering your face with kisses. You grabbed him by the lapels, and pulled him for another kiss, still grinning. “We should stop. We are drunk.” Xavier insisted.
“Compromise?” You asked, kissing the corner of his mouth. You were unable to keep your hands off him, it seemed.
“Depends on the deal.” Xavier answered, exposing his neck for you to kiss. You gave into the tentation and kissed one of his tendons.
“You hold me while we sleep and talk it over tomorrow?” You asked and he merely hummed.
"Dorm or here?"
"Here." You said, pecking him one last time on the lips. Xavier pulled a couple of sheets together and got started on making a small nest for you two to sleep. “Aren´t you scared tomorrow we will freak out and…?”
“Go back as we were?” He asked, while you picked up the canvas and the palettes, carefully setting them aside. “ It's better to have stopped as we were than to take it further. Besides… I know I won't be freaking out tomorrow. I have made my peace with these feelings a long time ago.”
You arched an eyebrow. Xavier was already laying down, with his head on one of the throw pillows you insisted on having around, and he claimed to despise. You knew they were useful. “What about me?”
“I'm drunk enough not to care.” He answered, nonchalantly. Then, making grabby hands at you like an overgrown toddler. “Come here. We can regret it tomorrow.”
He was right. Oh, how you hated that about him, the way he was unashamed and unapologetic about his feelings. It was admirable, really. He knew himself, in and out. Knew what he wanted and wasn´t going to apologize for it. You kicked your shoes off and crawled next to him. Xavier was warm, and smelled of all your favorite things. You knew he was an affectionate drunk, just like you. So, you took advantage and layed down on his chest, burrowing your face on his neck and tangling your feet together. He just made a happy noise, not commenting on the way you just assumed. You fell asleep that way.
The next morning, you woke up to the smell of turpentine and a pounding headache.
“Oh god, you can´t seriously be painting right now.” You muttered, covering your eyes with your hand. Everything was way to bright. And you were cold. Not only Xavier had gotten up to paint, leaving you alone on the floor, he had also taken the security measures you were already familiar with when working with toxic paint. That meant, he had opened every fucking window in the place.
“So. “ He said, putting down the brush from the painting he was working on. Casually, way to casually. “Any regrets?”
You sat up slowly. This was it. You could take a leap of faith or pretend nothing had happened. You risked a glance at his painting. It was a sketch of a faceless girl. But the arch of the foot, the way the waist dipped onto the hips, the coy pose of looking over her shoulder, you knew that body, that attitude. You saw it everyday in the mirror. He was taking his own leapt of fate and what else could you do but extend your hand and jump with him? Besides, you were never good at pretending, not even at lying to yourself. You had tried to pretend to hate Xavier, and we all knew how that ended.
“Only the drinking. If we were sober, we could have had so much more fun.” You said, quickly, before his face could fall. The change was immediate. Xavier snorted a bit, lowering his face and then, his trademark cocky smile made its appearance. The one that screamed Xavier Thorpe is a winner and had been the source of many headaches and rage fueled screaming matches for you over the years.
“You know, for someone so talented, you sure were dense.” Xavier commented, sitting on a stool.
“Yeah, and for such a smart ass, you certainly could have chosen a better strategy.” You got up from the nest of blankets and runned your fingers through your hair. “Pulling on my pigtails?”
“Bad attention is still attention.” Xavier gave you a sideways smirk. “There´s water and Advil over there.” He gestured towards your work table. “Besides, it worked.”
You took your time drinking the water and the painkiller. You made sure to rinse the bad taste out of your mouth, wouldn´t want that ruining your plans. Xavier didn´t look like he had showered and was still wearing yesterday´s clothes, buth he had been awake longer than you.
He didn´t make any move towards continuing his painting. He kept looking at you from the stool, a self satisfied smirk in place. That wasn't going to work. You settled down your water and walked towards him, dropping onto his lap.
“Hey.” You said, looking intently at his eyes and then to his mouth.
“Hey.” Xavier answered, one hand tangling on your hair, the other on your hip. He kissed you slowly and lazily. It was perfect and you could not help but melt against him. One kiss turned into two, and three, and before you knew it, they stopped being lazy and turned more purposeful.
“I hate you.” You groaned, when he started laying kisses on your jaw and neck.
“Bit late for that, princess.” He smiled against your skin, slowly kissing a path towards your clavicle. You tangled your hands in his hair, making Xavier groan.
“Oh, you like that?” You mocked him. “ Poor thing.”
“I'm going to take my time with you.” Xavier promised, slowly peeling your shirt off, leaving you in your bra. “Just for being mean.” His fingers dragged over your clavicles and the cups of your bra, never actually touching you in the ways you wanted. Xavier looked at you straight in the eyes, his smugness clear. Embarrassingly, you were already getting wet. You weren't a patient person, and you knew you couldn't beat him at this, so you changed the game.
“Off.” You demanded, tugging at his t-shirt. “Now.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “Who died and made you queen?” But for all his grumbling, he obeyed. You tilted your head, looking appreciatively at his golden, freckled shoulders and chest. Perfect for what you had in mind. You cradled his head on your hand, lightly scratching at his scalp with your nails. And then, lower, and lower, until you were scratching his back and making him arch against you with a confused expression, that was half pain, half pleasure. “Well played.” He said, and took off your bra, unhooking it with an ease that spoke of practice. That was okay, it wasn't your first time either. Finally, you thought, finally he was going to do something. But you were wrong again. Xavier lightly cupped one of your breasts in his hands, pulling you for a kiss. He kept his touch light, and you could feel the self-satisfaction radiating from him in waves. Smug bastard, you thought.
“Asshole.” You said, and pulled his hair, forcing him to expose his throat. Xavier bit his lips, but was unable to contain his laughter. You kissed your way down from his jaw to his neck, where you spent a fair amount of time running your teeth against his collarbones and soothing the bites with your tongue. “Not so smug now, are we?”
“If I were you, I wouldn't be so sure, princess. “ And with that, he pinched your nipple lightly, making you moan. It seemed that there was no way to win this game of his, and you were smart enough to accept your defeat.
“Fine!” You said, arching your back and trying to press your chest against his hands. “I fold. We are doing this your way, but please do something”
“Oh, princess. Thought you never ask.” He lifted you easily, scaringly so. You wrapped your legs around his waist, allowing him to carry you to the nest of blankets. You were unable to hide the way your breath changed when your clothed core pressed against his stomach, or at the way he squeezed your thighs. “Oh, you like this? You poor, poor thing.”
“Fuck you.” You said, pulling your pants off without caring if he saw how soaked you were. By this point, you felt like you were going to lose your mind if he didn't do something. He kneeled between your spread legs, in a pose mockingly similar to what you really wanted.
“Now, that was not nice. Pretty girl, with a mouth like that?” Xavier rubbed his thumb against your lower lip. He did a tsk sound, but you ignored him, choosing instead to capture his finger between your lips. Looking him straight into the eyes, you sucked at it, giving him only a hint of teeth. His pupils dilated and he closed his eyes for a second. Hook, line…
“My mouth can do so much more…” You said, lazily drawing ribons with your tongue on his thumb. “If you let me. “ It had been the wrong thing to say. Xavier pulled his thumb out of your mouth and shook his head a little.
“I don´t think so. “ And he was leaning down and taking one of your nipples on his mouth. You gave a surprised inhale, arching your back. It felt so good. You tried grabbing his hair to encourage him, but his hand stopped you. At first, he grabbed your wrist, but then, he took your hand in his, holding it.
“Please, Xavier, please…” Turns out, you weren´t above begging. You could feel his satisfied smile against your skin, again. God, didn´t this boy get tired of being smug?
“Now, that´s more like it. You sound much nicer begging me to fuck you than screaming insults.” He paused to give you a glance, noting with interest the way your blush went from your face yo your chest and committing it to memory for his next painting.
“Are you seriously using this as payback?!” You asked, indignantly. Because if so, this was going to be a very long morning. Xavier ignored you, placing an open-mouthed kiss to your navel. Then, he went lower, taking off your underwear.
“You are this wet for me, princess?” He smirked, licking a strip from your hole to your trhobbing clit and holding your hips down when you bucked from the floor.
“Xavier, please, I will beg you on my knees if you want, but please, please, please…” You said, losing entirely your dignity when he started pressing kisses to your pussy. It was too much, and he was holding your hands with his, preventing any attempt on your part to do something.
“I asked you something, princess.” There was a dark glint in his eyes, something that wasn't there before. It was… possessive, even. But you were lost, too overwhelmed to even think straight, much less understand what he was referencing.
“What?” Unfortunately for you, you had no clue what he was talking about. Your only thought was getting as much as skin to skin contact with Xavier as you could, so maybe he would fuck you. ”I don't, Xavier, Xavier, please.” You begged.
“I asked, who are you this wet for?” He enunciated, patiently. So that was what he wanted. You could give it to him, hell, at this point it was easy and evident. You would have said anything to get him to fuck you.
“You, you, Xavier, Xavi, please.” The nickname was a new one, but he seemed to like it, because he was taking off his pants and pulling himself out of his boxers. He had a nice cock, proportionate to his height, and with a pink tip that was begging to be sucked. He quickly and efficiently rolled a condom onto himself and pressed slightly against your entrance. You felt tempted to make a sarcastic comment about his confidence this was going to happen, but choose to keep quiet. You weren't sure if you wanted to keep snarking at him.
“I guess that was a good answer, but a little delayed. We'll need to work on your delivery.” He said, and leaned for a kiss. He smelled strongly of your juices. “Now, what do good girls say?”
“Asshole.” You answered, having used the brief respite to regain your wits and your spine, because you weren't the kind of person who went down without a fight. You were his competition for the last years, and you made sure to give as good as you got, damn it. Besides, teasing him was fun.“ Smug bastard, asshole, dick…” You gave him a sweet smile, letting the profanities tumble out of your mouth.
Xavier pulled back, shaking his head. He rubbed the tip of his cock against your clit, up and down, up and down, in a maddening slow manner. You had to give it to him, he had self-control. You closed your eyes and whimpered pathetically. That had been a bad idea. Your pride could have taken the blow of not resisting until the very end, but you had chosen to be a brat and now Xavier would make sure to make you pay.
“Cute.” Xavier smiled. “Let´s try again.” And he just leaned back, resting his weight on his heels, totally unbothered by the situation.
“You win!” You said, pathetically. Oh, your revenge would be terrible. Next time, he would be the one crying and begging. You would make sure of it. “Just fuck me already.”
“Mmm, won't do. You are a good girl, be polite.”
“Xavier, please, I will cry if you don't fuck me right now. Please, please, please.”
“That's more like it.” And with a painstakingly slow thrust of his hips, he was finally inside you. Immediately, you wrapped your legs around his back, digging your heels on his back. “Good?” Xavier asked, planting a kiss on your cheek.
“More than.” You answered, eyes closed in bliss. Xavier was just the perfect size to make you feel the stretch, but not hurt you. “Now move.”
He started to protest, but you clenched around him. You were getting fucked now, if Xavier liked it or not. Period.
“Got it, pretty girl.” Xavier settled on a moderate pace, hitting that interesting place inside you just right. You clawed at his back, desperate to find some kind of purchase and to meet him thrust by thrust. “You look so good taking my cock.”
“Less talk, more fucki-oh.” You started saying, but Xavier seemingly took offense, because before you could finish your piece, he set a more punishing pace, punching the air out of your lungs. You couldn't help but moan.
“So, you don´t, fuck you are tight, you don´t like hearing me telling you how good you look?” Xavier panted, malicious grin back in place. He thumbed at your clit, never stopping his thrusting. “Because you look good enough to eat, trust me.”
You couldn't think of a smart thing to say. Not a single one. You just held desperately to him, hands clammy from the seat of your bodies. The world could have been ending, and you wouldn't notice. “Xavier.” You begged, not even knowing what you were asking for. He was everywhere, hands on your hips, hair, neck, clit. It was getting too much. “Xavier.” Again, more urgent. “Xavier, please.” And it sounded more like a sob.
“Shhh, I got you. “ Xavier leaned down, taking one of your nipples on his mouth. His back bowed, almost uncomfortable. The fucking height difference. His hand rubbed at your clit, faster this time. His thrusts, hitting the perfect spot. It was too much. You surrendered to the pleasures, coming so hard you could swear you blacked out for a second. Xavier fucked you through it, extending the pleasure. You couldn't, for the life of you, stop the tears from falling. You were trembling all over, frantically gasping for air like a woman drowning. When your breath finally calmed down a little, Xavier brushed your hair out of your face. “You with me?” He asked, soothingly brushing your inner thigh back and forth.
“Yeah.” You hided your face in your hands. God, that was embarrassing. Crying during sex? It had never happened to you before.
“Hey, it's cool.” Xavier said, keeping himself immobile. He was still inside you, you realized. Still hard, too. “Prettiest thing I have seen. Do you want me to keep going?”
“Yes.” You rolled your hips against him and tightened yourself, making him buck and curse. You smiled slightly. “Come on, Thorpe. Give it to me.” He gave a startled laugh at the use of his last name, but started moving again.
His thrusting became more erratic, now that he was focused only in his own pleasure. He tried to hide his face on the crook of your neck, but you were having none of it. You pulled at his hair, making him groan. “Come on, let me watch you.” Xavier obeyed, a pretty blush making its way to his face, neck, and ears. He looked… absolutely decadent. You got what he meant now, by good enough to eat. With your own perverse smile, you bit into his shoulder. It was a guess, but an accurate one. Apparently, he liked some pain mixed in with his pleasure. Xavier came with a quiet moan of your name, trembling in your arms. He collapsed on top of you. You didn't say anything, but he rolled off, taking off the condom and knotting it.
Suddenly, the door to the shed opened.
“Oh my fucking…!” Yoko said, covering her eyes. Next to her, Ajax barked out a laugh.“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“What the hell?” Xavier asked, covering himself with one of the sheets and throwing his shirt to you. You quickly put it on.
“Y/N didn't come back last night to the dorm. I thought you killed her, so I got Ajax to come with me to look for her.” Yoko explained, peeking through her fingers.
“Yeah, he killed her with his dick.” Ajax snorted, unable to keep a straight face.
“Thank you for looking out for me, Yoko. I'm sorry for worrying you.” You said to her. The look on her eyes told you you owed her so many lattes it would be a century before she bought coffe herself.
“Why would you assume I killed her?” Xavier asked, indignantly. “She was the one who set a carnivore plant on me!” He complained.
“That was one time!” You screamed.
1K notes · View notes
vigilskeep · 6 days
Note
hi! ive seen you talk about your surana a bunch but i dont know if ive seen her full story. what were some of the pivotal decisions she made? i love hearing you talk about your ocs, theyre always so in depth and thought out!
oh thank you!! :) my surana is my Eldest Daughter from my very first full playthrough of a dragon age game, so i think a lot of people newer to the blog (like... from less than a year and a half ago probably lmao) have less of the context in complete form. so i will attempt to summarise!! it may be... long...
minerva surana is a manipulative, driven elven circle mage, heart-breakingly willing to sacrifice whatever she believes is necessary for her Grand Goals, who is often so busy playing 5d chess she forgets she’s a twenty-one year old with no experience of the world outside the tower
okay it did turn out fucking long the rest is under the cut its like 9 bulky paragraphs enjoy
her family were tevinter liberati, elven slaves who had devoted themselves to buying their way out and very recently succeeded. her parents were desperate to see her and her elder sibling grow up knowing only freedom, and sent their children south with another part of the family while they remained to pay off the last of their debts. the journey was long and difficult, and they had little left when they ended up in the denerim alienage. in a twist of bitter irony, magic that might have made minerva someone of value in the imperium saw her freedom once more revoked in the south. minerva remembers nothing of tevinter, and only a few fragments of what came next: of light through the vhenadahl’s branches glinting on a templar’s blade, of her sibling fighting them and being knocked to the ground, terribly still, with blood in their hair, and of her grandmother saying what she might have said many times on that long journey south: we can survive anything, as long as we never look back. ironically, minerva often took that to heart by denying all memory prior to the circle.
young apprentice minerva was a sullen child, with few friends; karl thekla took an elder brother’s interest, and jowan clung to her talent. she only really flourished when, after her terror of her natural gift for spirit magic saw her self-hatred turn dangerous in her early teens, first enchanter irving took an interest. he was a father figure to her, and he showed her how to channel her power into control, and her distress into ambition. newfound devotion to elemental magic saw her hailed as a prodigy, and surely a future first enchanter with irving’s tutelage. (only irving considered her too headstrong for the role. he never told her, fostering the drive he had cultivated, both fearful for the state she might return to if he didn’t, and curious as to what else she might become.) she grew up arrogant and beautiful and deeply loyal to the circle, learning that it was only the weak and the defiant who would fail to thrive there, and convinced she was neither. many of her peers wanted to be her, and few of them wanted to spend much time in her company. except jowan, still the little brother hiding in her shadow, and halliserre amell, a rebellious rival with a winning smile, who made up for their lack of her discipline and raw power with sheer brilliance, and whose heated arguments eventually developed into... ah, something else heated.
not long before the start of the game, amell told her they were going to accept tranquillity. it didn’t matter how clever they were; with their weak magic, they would die in the harrowing. they’d only been so defiant of the circle before because, having accepted their fate, the risks were nothing to them. furious and unable to admit it was because she was in love, the last thing minerva ever said to them when they were whole was that they were a coward not to try. when jowan told her he feared he too would be made tranquil, minerva was still recovering from the loss, not to mention flushed with even more arrogance than normal from her own successful harrowing. she had been the perfect circle mage all her life, twice as good as everyone else to make up for every rumour about where she was from. surely she had earned one defiance. surely she could save this one thing, her oldest friend. and she is a loyal person, in her way, emotion powering her fierce drive, incapable of abandoning what she has set her heart on. irving, from whom she had learned everything, was ahead of her every step of the way. he arranged for her to be taken in by the grey wardens. she had proved herself as headstrong and unsuitable as he had feared—and she was shocked and bitterly betrayed to finally see that—but he also believed this might bring her to where she would truly belong.
as a grey warden, minerva’s highest concern is perception. when the stakes of the game are revealed, she has enough hubris to see it as a chance to not just save but change the world. defeating the archdemon isn’t enough. she needs to be seen defeating the archdemon, at the forefront, as an elven mage; she has enough idealism to believe it will really matter for her and people like her, and enough shrewd cynicism to consider what she may have to sacrifice to achieve it. mostly she approaches problems with the skill for diplomacy and management that irving taught her, with that good good Master Coercion skill. she gets many of the “better” and certainly more peaceful quest outcomes, not always motivated by altruism, but determined to be remembered well when she leaves each faction behind. her one great sacrifice of this goal to be seen as the perfect mage is when she takes up blood magic, determined after she sees its power that she alone can handle it, to get the job done and keep what’s hers alive fight after fight. but that only makes her more dedicated to her actions elsewhere
the real test and most pivotal moment of her arc is at the landsmeet. she has arranged anora’s marriage to an alistair hardened for the role (once more following irving’s example, learning to teach ambition as he had taught hers. is there love in that, or just selfishness? she doesn’t know). all that matters is that the joint rule neatly fulfils her desire for compromise to please all parties. but then she struggles between two aspects of her goal: she wants to be seen, personally, as the victor; she does not want every noble in ferelden to see her kill the hero of river dane with magic. she knows how that scene will be remembered, in the end. when riordan suggests recruiting him instead, it seems the perfect solution to everything, the salvation of the day. and then she realises she’s broken alistair’s heart, just when he’s breaking hers. she is incapable of backing down in front of them all (it’s only to alistair, her alistair, but she can’t do it—not to a human, and not to someone part of her will always see as a templar—not when everything she wants was so close.) he abandons her for the throne she taught him to want. she goes on with loghain in the party, and eventually—unable to let loghain snatch the final sacrifice from her grasp, and realising she does want to win and live, after it all—convinces him to do the dark ritual.
in terms of her most important relationships with companions: minerva traditionally romances zevran, who is in many ways uniquely her match having learned the same bitter lessons with the crows that she learned from the circle, and who is so dear to her and capable of lightening her heart when no-one else can. i’ve also experimented with the idea of her romancing alistair, to really dramatise the Landsmeet Divorce and capitalise on future political shenanigans where she could one day be his mistress, but more traditionally they are simply an extremely closely trauma-bonded pair of people who are incapable, at least that year, of really understanding each other deep down. it falls into a pattern where she loves someone with all that fierce drive, enough to die for them, but she will always prioritise what she thinks they need over what they are saying and what they want, often with misjudgements and terrible consequences for them both. it was true with amell, it’s true for many others
she has something very intense and homoerotic going on with morrigan, she has a strained relationship with leliana and wynne, and she has respect and comradeship and a fair bit of fundamental disagreement with sten and loghain. the awakening squad are the people she will consider family for life, most notably nathaniel who she started out not liking at all and is now her work wife, her right hand, can finish her sentences, etc.; anders, who remembers her as karl’s annoying teacher’s pet telltale little sister and is still sometimes baffled by who she’s become; velanna, who makes minerva her most genuine self by having regular screaming matches with her as a sign of affection; and oghren who tried to quit drinking at the same time she tried to quit blood magic, leading to many conversations that deeply baffled everyone around them.
the “current” minerva surana is a sharp-tongued leader who was born for the role of warden-commander, who loves her work and that it matters, who has a truer confidence that is less blindly arrogant and more willing to admit to mistakes, who has worked her breathless way up to h*lding h*ands in public with someone she loves, who has finally learned the hard lesson that the world needs more than an heroic example who followed all the rules to truly be bettered... and who, as rebellion brews, has never been one to sit back and watch while others changed the world
55 notes · View notes
hauntedestheart · 4 months
Text
Security Measures - Body Swaps
Entry 3 in the Security Measures series- the stories of a boy named Trevor as he attempts to protect his possession-prone boyfriend Andy from snatchers.
I speak from personal experience when I say that if the average person were to be interested in trying to snatch someone else's body, a body swap spell would generally be the most accessible method. For obvious reasons I won't be offering any pointers on how to find any, but they're out there and they can be very tempting.
While every spell I've come across is fairly complicated in terms of setup, the results of a body swap are reliable and pose less risk to the user than other methods of body snatching. It's simple math really- because possession begins with two souls and two bodies and aims to end with one soul and one body, compromises are made along the way which causes it to be messy and temporary. By comparison a swap is very tidy because every soul and body involved is accounted for, which means a well executed swap spell can last indefinitely without too many side effects.
(If you find a spell involving "fern seeds" do NOT use that one because that's the one that got us into this mess to begin with... it's tempting but trust me, it's trouble.)
I never quite know what I'm in for when a swap happens since, unlike ghosts and hoppers, it's impossible to really paint the motivations of ordinary humans with a broad brush. People will swap because they want to get out of their lives, but there are countless reasons someone would want that and thus countless ways they'll behave after they do it.
Maybe they're jealous of Andy and want to steal his life, so they study him and do their best to impersonate him. Maybe they want an escape from their old life and are trying to use his life as a way out, so they take his body and try to run off with it. Maybe they don't really have a plan and just want to be young and hung, consequences be damned! But it's always about them with no consideration to how poor Andy is going to feel about the situation, so no matter what their reasons are they get no sympathy for me.
I don't doubt that every guy would swap with Andy given the chance even if I hadn't accidentally cursed him to be vulnerable to it- he's a gorgeous, 6'2'' stud who spends a quarter of his week in the gym -but the same looks that cause Andy so much trouble are actually a big asset in these situations. Being such a dreamy hunk means every guy wants to be him BUT once they are him, they're usually so excited by the state of their new body that they get distracted by... well... by this point I'm sure you've figured out what their first thoughts are. While they play, it buys us some time to start working things out.
Andy will usually head for me with his new body right after a swap happens (tip: code phrases work!) but I can usually guess what the person who did the swap looked like even before Andy turns up in their body based off of what they're most excited about:
If the snatcher is obsessed with bouncing his pecs, their real body is usually skinny.
If they keep rubbing his abs, they were probably fat.
Younger guys are generally really impressed by his biceps and will spend a lot of time flexing and showing those off.
Older guys are the only ones who pay attention to his hair- although since Andy has afro-textured hair it does catch a lot of men off-guard if they aren't used to that.
If they spend more than fifteen seconds checking out his ass, they're gay, but straight guys are usually more concerned with what they're packing in the front.
The last guy to try swapping with my boyfriend was a classics professor who translated a spell during his research and tried to use it to relieve his youth in the body of one of his students... which, of course, wound up being Andy. The spell transformed them into each other and I can't lie, it was kind of cute to watch Andy whine about being old– he made me promise to never let him get that out of shape.
We found the professor stumbling around drunk off his ass at a frat party trying to grind on any girl that got close (which was gross considering he was actually old enough to be their father) and just generally behaving like a slimy old man hiding behind a handsome young face. I distinctly remember that he was wearing a bedsheet toga, so when he went to do a keg stand it slipped off him and everybody saw Andy's dick hanging out- the real Andy found that pretty mortifying.
(Given how often he's running around in various states of undress, everybody on campus just thinks that Andy is really free with his body... which is correct, but not in the way they think.)
That was actually a fairly easy swap to fix AND we got to blackmail him into changing Andy's grade in the class to an A, so I guess it all worked out. He didn't even get stuck with the hangover!
In general, swaps being easy to do also means they're easy to undo. A spell is specifically targeted so it's often someone we're at least acquainted with AND we get their face in the trade, which means we can retrace their steps and figure out what they did. Every spell has a loophole so while it can be tricky to meet the criteria sometimes, a little bit of savvy always pulls us through. At this point we've reversed so many of them it's just a matter of opening up our glossary and trying stuff until something sticks.
Speaking personally, Andy and I have mixed feelings on swaps: we both appreciate that he gets to be awake and in a body during these but the bodies he gets are usually... less than ideal. Let's just say that the people trying to borrow other people's bodies generally aren't the ones who are happy with their own.
Every single time Andy gets swapped, he asks me if I'd still be able to love him in his new body. I haven't said no yet- but his real body is my favorite, of course.
71 notes · View notes