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dcxdpdabbles · 3 months

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What if Danny went to school with Damian? I’m just imagining them going feral together after a little while, because you know that Danny picks up on Damian’s liminal vibes.

I mostly just want Damien to bring Danny home, and for Bruce to do the headcount thing that Mr. Weasley needed to do in Harry Potter. Just like ‘I could’ve sworn I didn’t have this many this morning’

Damian made a friend.

It shouldn't be as big a deal as his brothers were making it out to be but even he knew that he didn't have the best track record on friendships. It was hard to get along great with the kids in his school.

A lot of them were too carefree, to be unburdened by the things he saw and did on a battlefield and he couldn't stand how loud and messy they all were.

Damian preferred to sit by himself with some headphones in and draw whenever he could get the chance. According to the other children that made him an "emo loser" and a lot of them took great joy in flinging insults and taunts at him.

He never even spoken to them but for some reason, the general populace of Gotham Acadamy deemed him a great target for their scorn. Sometimes Damian wondered if he deserved their taunts, flung paper and spitballs.

If his time in the Leauge of Shadows truly made him broken and wrong as his classmates claimed.

It wasn't like Damian couldn't defend himself. He could have all of them begging for mercy within a minute but to do so would put at risk his Robin identity.

Which then would put his family at risk. Damian would never allow those under his protection to be harmed. So even if it hurt his dignity he allowed some of the more physical bullies to get a few hits in and ducked his head when he walked through the hallways.

His other classmates saw, but no one chose to speak up for Damian Wayne otherwise known as Bruce Wayne's accident on travel and dirty secret. He was the freak. The weirdo. They knew that if they got involved, even if they didn't agree with it, then they would be targeted.

He never expected anyone to step in whenever his bullies found him.

But then again, he came to learn that Daniel Fenton wasn't just anyone. His friend had a heart of gold with a righteous rage that was hardly contained in his smaller body.

It had been three days since Daniel had been transferred to Gotham Acadamy, during their free period. The youngest Wayne had been minding his own business, eating the vegetarian meal prepared by Alfred and drawing a little in his sketchbook when he was surrounded.

Damian had been pushed up against a wall by the meaty hands of the snickering soccer team. They were gripping his shirt collar and Damian had been preparing for a punch in the face when Daniel had appeared out of nowhere.

"Hands!" Danny had shouted pointing at Derek, the captain of the team with a scowl. He was the one who was going to beat Damian up while his friends held Wayne in place. "That's a penalty kick buddy!"

And then Danny kicked Eric- a teenager who was at least a head taller than him- right between the legs. Danny threw his whole body weight into that kick and the captain proved it by choking out a wheeze and falling to the ground.

Before his friends could react, Danny was upon them swinging his lunch tray like a battering ram.

Needless to say, the rest of the soccer team was not impressed, especially the goalie. They abandoned Damian to fight against Danny, who well seemed like he knew his way in a fight, was nowhere near Damian's level of training.

Good instincts but he lacked a solid foundation.

Danny was able to fight off the seven members of the soccer team (the rest didn't really hang out with them during breaks) but he had a lot of wounds as a result.

"Run dude!" Danny had shouted at him, putting himself between the team and Damian. His lip had been busted, he had a black eye and a nosebleed but Danny didn't seem to care. "I'll hold them off!"

Damian was ashamed to admit that he just stood there in shock at the new transfer's behavior. Daniel....was attempting to rescue him. Why?

He hadn't even known Daniel at the time.

The teachers arrived then, dragging everyone to the principal office where Damian was accused of starting the fight and Danny was threatened with being expelled only three days into his move. The soccer team had been smug, while the principal who Damian believed disliked him for his Middle Eastern Blood, seemed to jump at the fact he could smear Damian's name.

Daniel was on scholarship which did not help his chances at all in a school that had legacies.

His father had been away on a mission, so the school had been forced to phone Richard instead. When his brother arrived the soccer team's parents had been throwing a fit about all the hits Daniel had gotten in.

"Mr. Wayne shouldn't have agitated them and Mr. Fenton jumped in unprovoked. ," The Principal said staring Richard down when his brother had loudly demanded to know what happened.

"But he didn't" Daniel cut in. His guardians hadn't arrived yet and had remained mostly silent by the way. The group of parents and teenagers turn to him. "They were the ones to attack Wayne. I hit them unprovoked though. That part is true. They didn't do anything to me, but I can't stand cowards that attack in groups."

"I guess you have proof of this?" Mrs. Skeel sneered. She was Eric's mother and often brides her son out of problems.

"I have a body cam," Daniel reveals pulling out a miniature camera from his tie. He smiles at the dumbfounded stares his actions cause."Recorded the whole thing."

"Can I see the footage?" Richard requested, which Daniel easily handed over. They played it on the Principal's computer and there the camera shows Daniel sitting in the tree that Damian had chosen to sit under. The video captures Daniel watching him up until the soccer team arrives, and their innocence is proven.

Daniel didn't seem to care that he made enemies with almost everyone in that room as Richard quickly took control of the meeting with the evidence. Damian thinks he may not have to worry too much now that the staff were aware that Waynes would and could cut their funding.

Not only that, but the parents were also weary of angering Father. None of this meant that Daniel was safe so Damian took it upon himself to never let the new student be alone for too long.

As a means to protect him.

It wasn't until he realized two months later that school had gone for a dull meaningless pass time to laughter and enjoyment because of Daniel. They walked to class, they shared notes, they passed notes, they watched videos, Daniel chattered about everything and anything and they sent each other funny memes.

Daniel was vastly different from Damian but it didn't seem to bother him. If anything their differences were what made them so close. Daniel claimed that his two best friends back in his old school were vastly different in interest and personalities too.

He had made a friend.

Daniel was his friend.

A friend who didn't seem to mind when he would go quiet to draw or medicate. A friend who didn't need an explanation or justification for his eating habits. A friend he was able to vent about his troubles to and lend an ear to when Daniel faced his own woes.

A person who laughed at all his dark jokes, regardless of how much death was in them. Someone who seemed almost as... what did Todd call him? Feral? as Damian was.

Damian had chosen to invite Daniel to a sleepover. His very first ever sleepover with people from school- Jon held the crown for being the first friend to have a sleepover with him- and he has been ever so excited.

It's childish for someone of his age to show such anticipation for something so small but he couldn't help himself. Something about Daniel was captivating. Almost otherworldly so.

There was something about him that made all of Damian sense buzz but not in a bad way. He isn't sure what it is, but he is getting tired of Drake's and Richard's knowing smirks.

He detested being left out of the loop.

The doorbell rings. Todd makes the motion to stand up, which would be a disaster. He does not want Daniel- a person who swears in old classic book titles to meet his one brother who adores said books and reads them for fun.

Damian flings himself over the couch, using Todd as board. He ignores the shout of rage that his action causes and the hollaring laughter of the rest of Father's brood.

He clears the door before any of the other Wayne members and breaks out into a run. Just in case any of them got the idea of trying to meet Daniel before Damian can control the situation in which it happenes.

Also, he wanted to see Daniel. Spring break felt like an eternity now that he couldn't see his friend every day. He would like to have met up with him since the break started but Daniel's guardian had planned a trip and they only just returned.

He had yet to meet Daniel's uncle but heard a lot of Mr.Clockwork from the teenager. Damian was still unsure if he liked the man. He seemed far too aloof when it came to Daniel.

"Geez Dami, relax! Your boy toy isn't going anywhere!" Brown cackles

"Give him a big smooch!" Drake adds, his laughter echoing Brown's

I will deal with them later. Damian swears, fixing his hair from where it had fallen out during his run. He checks his reflection in the mirror by the doorway. He wants to look good for his first ever school friend's sleepover.

Damian had picked his best outfit, wearing his favorite jeans and black button-down. He accessorized with silver rings and chains, grateful Jon had been willing to facetime to give him the modern teenager stamp approval.

Once he is satisfied that his appearance is at its utmost best, he opens the door.

"Hi, Dami!" Daniel chirps. He is wearing a faded pair of jeans and a white shirt with a red dot in the middle. It's nowhere near Damian's stylish and well-put-together often, and yet he looks as beautiful as a grace nymph outside the school uniform.

Damian mind goes blank for only a second before he nods. "Daniel.Welcome. This is Wayne Manor. I live here for I am a Wayne."

For I am a Wayne!? Damian thinks to himself in horror unsure why those words hand tumbled out of his mouth. A wave of shame washes over him as Daniel curiously looks around with that pleased little half smile on his lips.

Daniel is always half smiling as if he heard a joke only he was privy to.

"This place is cool!" Daniels says spinning around to face him and missing Father stumbling out of the living room. Damian is unsure why the man had return so soon, as he thought Batman would be off-world for another week at the least with Flash.

His father looked dead on his feet, eyes half open as he walked up to Daniel and yanked him into a hug!?

"Oh," Daniel says pressed up to Father's chest. "Hello?"

"Hi, son." Father mutters. He squints down at his friend with bloodshot eyes. " Did you get smaller Timmy?"

"Father!" Damian shouts outraged while the rest of his so-called siblings come spilling out of the other sitting room.

"Bruce!" Drake shouts a wide grin on his face. "I'm over here."

"Wha-? Then who is this?" Father blinks slowly, one eye closing before the other, as he tilts his head. He has yet to realese Daniel, though his part his friend seems content with the embrace seeing as he had returned the gesture. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine.....ten? Do I have ten children?"

"You only have nine" Thomas calls out helpfully. Father nods, then counts again, pointing one finger at the people in the room

"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine" He looks down pointing at Daniel. "Ten. Why are there ten of you?"

"That's a son-in-law, old man"

"No. I could have sworn none of my children are married......Dick you're not married are you?"

"Not yet B."

"Jason?"

"Trying to find a finger to put a ring on it Old man."

"Cassandra?"

"No thank you."

"Tim?"

"Ew."

Daniel giggled at Drake's response and Damian felt the sudden urge to bury a knife in Drake's side.

"Steph?"

"Nah."

"Duke?"

"I'm too young B."

"Cullen?"

"I can't even get a date, Bruce"

"Harper?"

"Inability to get dates run in the Row family tree."

Father nodded then. "Good none of my children-"

"What about Dami?" Daniel asks with a wide grin. Both his friend and Father turn to stare at him. Damian suddenly feels himself sweating through his shirt.

"Damian? You aren't married?

"Of course not!" He denies it loudly and faces an unconformable red. Daniel cackles like the devil he is.

Father meanwhile continues to hug Daniel while muttering. "Then where did ten come from? Alfred? Why are there ten children in my house?"

"Master Bruce if you do not let that young man go and go see Dr.Thompkins for that concussion I swear, heads will roll!"

Damian is grateful that once again Alfred seems to be the only one with a brain in this manner.

"I like it here," Daniel proclaims watching the butler drag away his confused father. Damian is utterly unprepared for the look that his friend shoots him from under his eyelashes, and he almost trips over his own two feet as he says. "Show me to your room?"

"I...of course! This way! I live here!" Curses his voice cracked. It ended in a squeak! He, Damian Wayne son of the Bat and Demon, made a fool of himself by squeaking!

"This is better than a daytime tv sitcom." Row- the male one- snickers from the stairway and Damian flips him off as he passes by with Daniel.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #dead serious #Why Ten? au #Bruce was so confused by the tenth person #Danny made a friend #and Damian is experiencing his first-ever crush #The Waynes are watching Damian stumble like they watching a wild animal documentation

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navybrat817 · 9 months

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Sundresses and Leather

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Female Reader Summary: Your first date with Bucky doesn't go as planned, but that makes it all the more special. Word Count: Over 4.7k Warnings: First date, tension, flirting, brief moments of insecurity, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Graphics talent and thanks: Banner by @sgt-seabass. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Bucky edit by Nix. Moodboard by yours truly. Previous Part of AU: Sweet and Strong A/N: More Hottie and Sugar from our Sin on Skin AU. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thank you for spitballing), but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Tonight was the night. You were going out with Bucky Barnes. Excited for the date was a bit of an understatement. You may have told a few customers you had a date when they wished you a good day.

Thank God they were mostly regulars and seemed happy on my behalf.

"Maybe a sundress isn't nice enough," you told Tess, regretting the words the moment they left your mouth. She didn’t need to deal with you and your overthinking. Again.

"It's plenty nice. You’re going to look amazing,” she argued, going to check on the next batch of cookies. “And he can lift the skirt and bury his-"

"I thought you said I didn't have to get laid on my first date with him," you cut her off.

"You don't have to, but the visual alone will give him something for his spank bank later."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence," you smiled, but it quickly faltered.

You weren’t sure why a cloud drifted over your sunny disposition. Bucky was a good guy, a far cry from Richard. Gorgeous, kind, hardworking, the whole package. There was chemistry between the two of you that went beyond mere attraction. Maybe it was the fact that you were falling hard and fast for him that suddenly made you so nervous. You didn’t want to scare him away.

But he said he couldn’t stop thinking about me and he wouldn’t say that if he didn’t mean it.

Tess gave you a pointed look. “Stop overthinking. I’m begging you.”

“I’m not trying to,” you sighed, your nerves almost tempting you to grab a treat from the case. “What if I fall on my face?”

“Like Bucky would let you hit the ground. Even if you do stumble, that’s life. It isn’t going to change the fact that he likes you,” she said as you helped her with the cookies. You still had work to do. “The guy said he can’t get you off his mind and to text him whenever you want. He does not strike me as the type to just say those things and I know he doesn’t strike you as that type either.”

It took a moment, but your smile came back. She was right. Life wasn’t perfect and you were far from it, but Bucky liked you just as you are. Tonight would be unforgettable no matter what.

“I appreciate the pep talk,” you said, thankful that she told you what you needed to hear. “I’ll even tell you the dirty details if anything happens.”

“Hell yeah, you will. Remember, at this point, I’m living vicariously through you until I find my own hunk,” she winked. “But I mean it. Have fun tonight and get your man.”

I will.

After your shift, you rushed to change for your date. You somehow managed to arrive a few minutes early outside of Bucky's shop and took a deep breath to get yourself under control. Catching your reflection in the window, you smiled before you turned away. Since Bucky hadn’t given you any hint for what you were doing, you chose your nicest sundress and kept your makeup minimal. You looked and felt beautiful, though you wished you would’ve brought a jacket with you.

Maybe Bucky will let me borrow his if he has one.

“Holy shit.”

You spun around when you heard Bucky’s voice behind you, your heart fluttering as he met you on the sidewalk. Instead of the jeans you usually saw him in, he wore khakis, a button up shirt, and a blue blazer that matched his eyes. He had his hair down, perfectly parted on the right side. You were so busy staring at the broad, handsome man that it took you a moment to realize he was trying to hand you something.

Flowers.

“Sorry. You just… wow,” he said as you took the small bouquet, sweeping his gaze over you as your cheeks grew warm. “You look so beautiful.”

You giggled and quickly covered your mouth with your hand, butterflies in your stomach when he gently smiled. “Don’t apologize,” you smiled back, taking a moment to smell the flowers. “You look pretty ‘holy shit’ yourself.”

His nose scrunched as he laughed and offered you his hand. “So, you’re telling me I clean up well. Steve insisted on the blazer when I said I wanted to bring my leather jacket.”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Though I wouldn’t have minded the leather jacket,” you said. He would’ve looked gorgeous, as always. “And thank you for suggesting we meet here. We had a last minute order and I was scrambling."

"It's no problem. One of my clients was running a few minutes late and I almost had to take you out in jeans."

"I wouldn't have minded," you said. You both worked hard and understood that things would come up from time to time. "So, where are we headed?"

He cleared his throat as he led you to his car. “Well, do you want the good news or the bad news?”

Your stomach dropped a little. “Mmm. Bad news first,” you said after a moment. “Always better to end on a high note.”

“Bad news was I had planned to take you out on my motorcycle so we could have a picnic in the park. There was going to be live music and I would’ve asked you to dance,” he explained, looking up at the sky. “But…”

“The weather called for a storm tonight, didn’t it?” you mused, a wistful smile on your face when he nodded. The image of being in his arms under the stars as music drifted through the air made your heart skip a beat. It sounded like the perfect evening.

“Yeah. The band is rescheduling,” he said, tucking his hair behind his ear as he looked at the ground. “Then I thought I could take you to this art gallery nearby. They normally have these stunning paintings of landscapes and various statues, but the current exhibit is on human sexuality and reproduction. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but maybe it was too much for a first date.”

“Oh, come on. It couldn’t have been that bad,” you argued as he stopped and took out his phone.

“No?” he asked, tapping his screen before he showed you what you assumed was the page for the gallery.

“…That’s a giant dick,” you said before you could stop yourself, tilting your head as you stared at the phone. “And does that say BALLS?”

An older woman crossing in the opposite direction gave you an amused stare before you and Bucky burst into a fit of laughter. You had to hold on his arm to keep from collapsing on the ground. It was the funniest thing you had seen since you could remember and to think you almost saw it in person.

This date is off to a great start.

“Maybe I wanted to see a giant dick and balls,” you said once you caught your breath, pointing at him when he opened his mouth. “And don’t say ‘all I have to do is pull down my pants’ or something like that.”

But I know he has a big dick. I know.

He smirked as he started walking again. “Only if you ask me nicely, Sugar.”

He’s going to kill my ovaries.

“I’ll ask you very nicely, Hottie,” you teased, wondering exactly where you were going then. “If that was the bad news, what’s the good news?”

“I managed to get us a reservation at one of the nicest restaurants in town,” he said, standing a bit taller.

He’s trying to impress me.

“That's really nice. And I’m sure dinner will be amazing,” you assured him, hoping he didn’t beat himself up over having to change his plans. It wasn’t his fault it was going to rain. He could’ve taken you to a fast food place and it would’ve been fine because you were with him.

“Speaking of, I better get us there so we aren’t late,” he said, opening the door for you to get in. “Maybe if you agree to a second date, I can take you out on my bike and have that picnic.”

“I’d love that,” you smiled, carefully putting the flowers in your lap and trying not to appear too eager that he was already thinking of a second date. You glanced around the car when he got in and drove off, noticing it was cleaner than when he took you home days prior.

Did he clean it for me?

You grinned as he hummed along to the radio, watching as he drummed his fingers along the steering wheel. “You could’ve made it as a musician if you weren’t a tattoo artist.”

“Now you’re just flattering me, Sugar,” he said. “Believe it or not, if I wasn’t a tattoo artist, I would’ve liked to be a science teacher. I loved science and everything space related growing up.”

“Really?” you asked. He would’ve been a wonderful teacher, no matter what age group he taught. “Okay. That’s another date night.”

“What? Playing teacher?” he joked, taking his eyes off the road for a second to wink at you.

“No,” you giggled, carefully shoving his arm since he was driving. “We’re going to a science museum. That's our third date. I’m going to watch you happily geek out over everything.”

“Yeah?” he asked, glancing at you after he parked the car. “You’d do that?”

“Yeah, I would. I think it would be a blast.”

I just want to spend time with you.

A soft expression took over his features when he took your hand and brought it to his mouth. His lips lightly brushed your skin, heat pooling in your gut as he made eye contact with you. The look alone made you want to skip dinner and go right to dessert. Why not throw caution to the wind?

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he promised before he got out.

You exhaled slowly and mentally told your libido to calm down. At the very least, you had to get through dinner. He went through the trouble of getting a reservation at a nice place and you weren’t about to take that away from him.

“Oh, wow. I haven’t been here before,” you said once you got a look at the name. Richard used to brag about the place, but never actually took you. From what you remember, he said the food was supposed to be expensive. You didn’t want Bucky to splurge on you.

“I haven’t either,” Bucky admitted. A fancy place didn’t seem like his style. “But it looked romantic.”

You bit your lip as he opened the door, the flickering candlelight in the entryway alone providing an intimate ambience. The date may not have been what he planned, but he clearly did his research and put thought into doing something nice for you. When was the last time someone tried to do something nice for you? When did anyone go out of their way to make you feel special?

“Hello,” Bucky said as the hostess greeted you. “Reservation for two under James.”

James?

The hostess scanned her screen before she looked up. “I’m sorry. That name isn’t coming up.”

Bucky’s cheeks turned pink when you glanced at him. “It should be under James, miss. James Barnes. Reservation for two for 7pm. I spoke with Charles. He confirmed it.”

You moved closer to Bucky when the hostess searched through her screen again. As calm as he sounded, you sensed he was anything but inside. You hoped he wasn’t embarrassed. Maybe she skipped over his name. A simple mistake.

“Charles did make a reservation for you, but he entered it for 7pm next Friday,” she said as she looked between the two of you. “We’re fully booked tonight. I'm sorry, James.”

Oh, no.

There was a tick in Bucky’s jaw before he shook his head and you wanted nothing more than to hug him. “No, that’s… It’s for tonight.”

“I’m so sorry. I can see if we can squeeze a table in for you, but it’ll be at least an hour,” she said, shifting uncomfortably on her feet. She probably expected one or both of you to make a scene. "I can get my manager?"

Bucky swallowed when he looked at you, his cheeks still pink. The candlelight danced in his eyes, but all you saw was sadness. No. You wouldn't allow that. This was your first date and it was going to be amazing.

You put a hand on his arm, his muscles relaxing under your touch. "It's okay. I know this amazing place that’s right around the corner."

"Are you sure?" he asked, the hostess visibly relaxing when you nodded.

"You have a good evening," you said to the hostess and tugged Bucky back toward the door. "I'm sure. Trust me. We may even beat the rain if we walk now."

“Okay,” he said, avoiding your gaze as you left. “Fuck. This is the worst first date, isn’t it?”

Your heart broke for him. All he wanted was to give you a nice evening and everything he tried fell through. “Not even close. And you have nothing to apologize for. Charles messed up the reservation, Hottie, not you.”

“Yeah, he did,” he said, his lip tugging like he wanted to smile. “I just really wanted tonight to be special and since I couldn’t give you the date I planned, I wanted to at least give you something nice. I couldn't even do that.”

Hearing that made you stop, even when you felt the first raindrop. "Tonight is special because you're spending time with me. That's all I wanted," you promised, squeezing his hand for good measure.

"That's really all?" he asked as he squeezed your hand in return.

"Well, not completely," you teased as another raindrop landed on your shoulder. "Maybe a kiss at the end of our date."

A wide smile formed on his face as he leaned in, not quite kissing you. "Whatever you want, Sugar."

As romantic as it was to stand on the sidewalk with him, the rain began to come down harder and had you rushing with him around the corner. “If you're still disappointed, you’ll feel much better when we eat. Antonia’s has the best food,” you said, holding out your hand in a grand gesture as you arrived. “Tada!”

Antonia's was a bit of a hole-in-the-wall kind of place. Not extraordinary on the outside, but lively and bright on the inside. The food and service were top notch. It was one of your favorite places.

“Wait, Antonia's?” he asked, a twinkle in his eyes. “This is where you’re taking me?”

“Yeah,” you replied, suddenly nervous as you faced him. Did he not like it? “Is this okay?”

“This is one of my new favorite restaurants,” he said.

No way.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. I designed one of Antonia's tattoos. And I decided to check out the place."

He's full of surprises.

"Then you know you're in for a treat," you winked.

The hearty aroma of the restaurant filled the air as you went inside and wiped some of the rain off your dress. Antonia was speaking with the hostess as you went up to the stand. The owner was involved in virtually every part of her restaurant.

"Welcome to…" Antonia began as she looked at you, then at Bucky, then back at you. "Oh! You two… it's a date!"

Antonia looks so happy.

"Hi. And yes. We're on a date," you giggled when Bucky sheepishly smiled. It was sweet. "You wouldn't happen to have a table for two available, would you?"

Antonia put her hand over her heart and flagged down a waiter with the other. "Lover's special for these two. Go."

You exchanged a look with Bucky, who appeared just as confused as you were. "Lover's special?"

"Yes, yes. Come with me," she said, patting Bucky's cheek before she took you through the restaurant. You expected her to seat you at one of the few empty tables, but she passed them to take you to a door in the back. "Tonight is special and that means a special dinner."

Your eyes widened at the sight before you once she opened the door. There was a lone table in the middle of the room, flowers similar to the bouquet Bucky gave you sat in the center. Unlike the bright main room, the dimmed lights gave the room a romantic glow.

Perfect.

"Peter will serve you. And if you need anything, just ask, okay?" Antonia asked, putting her hand over her heart again. Were there tears in her eyes? "Two of my favorite customers. Together! Enjoy!"

You had to pause and swallow the lump in your throat once she left you alone. A restaurant owner showed more enthusiasm for your date than your mom did for anything that involved you. She likely never would.

"You okay?" Bucky asked, pulling out your chair.

"I'm fine," you replied, refusing to let the thought of your mom damper the evening. "A little chilly. I should've brought a sweater with me."

Bucky removed his blazer and put it around you, tenderness in his blue eyes as he rubbed your arms. "I can't wait to see you in my leather jacket," he said, helping you take your seat before he took his.

Oh, he's going to give me his jacket? Am I going to only wear his jacket? Fuck.

"Thank you," you said, inhaling as he rolled up one of his sleeves beneath the elbow and then the other. You reached across the table to lightly trace one of the tattoos on his right arm. "It was nice of Antonia to put us back here."

"Then why did you look so sad when she left?"

He caught that?

"She just looked so happy to see us together and I didn't expect that. It's nice that someone is rooting for us," you said, tracing your finger along his wrist before you stopped. "I'm sorry. I should've asked before I started touching."

"Don't apologize. I like your touch," he said in a low voice.

You lifted your gaze, seeing fire in his eyes that had nothing to do with the dim lighting. When he turned his hand over to hold yours, you made no move to pull away. You wished you could put your hands all over him.

"Hi! I'm Peter!" The waiter greeted as he brought water to the table. Bucky didn't let go of your hand. "I'll be taking care of you tonight."

"Only one taking care of my girl tonight is me," Bucky said. As much as you loved hearing that, you were glad he gave poor Peter a tiny smile so he could relax. "I'm kidding. It's good to see you, Peter."

"Y-You, too, Mr. Barnes. And you, Miss. You have the best cupcakes in town."

"Thanks," you smiled, quickly putting in your order before you gazed at Bucky. "So, James. Tell me more about you. How long have you been friends with Steve?"

"James is my first name. Everyone calls me Bucky," he chuckled before he shook his head. "And that punk."

You smiled softly as you listened to Bucky, not at all surprised by how easily the conversation went. Steve was his best friend since childhood and they served together before they went into business together. It was evident that he took pride in his shop and respected everyone who worked there. He carried the same affection in his tone when he spoke about his sister, Rebecca. He liked to frequent art galleries with Steve, but also enjoyed riding his bike, reading, and everything science in his spare time.

I could listen to him talk for hours.

"You know, you haven't said much about yourself," he pointed out as he set his napkin on his empty plate.

"I haven't?" You asked.

"No, you haven't and I don't want to monopolize the conversation," he said, leaning forward to give you his full attention. "I want to know more about you."

You tightened the blazer around you, unsure of what to say. "My life isn't exactly exciting," you said, wishing you could think of something clever or fun to discuss.

"Doesn't have to be exciting. I just want to know you," he said before Peter showed back up.

"Would you like to look at the desert menu?" he asked as he took your plates away.

"I think you can bring the check. We're going to skip dessert," you answered, giving Bucky an assuring smile when he frowned. "Let's go to my shop instead."

If Bucky wanted to really know you, you had to tell him more of your story. Your bakery was the only place to do it. And it would be the perfect way to end the evening.

After you left the restaurant, with Antonia asking you to come back again, Bucky drove as safely as he could to the bakery. The rain didn't let up at all. You shrieked as you struggled to get the keys out of your purse, Bucky's blazer now soaked the longer you stood there. "Why didn't I get these out when I was still in your car?!" You shouted over the downpour.

"Why didn't I bring an umbrella?!" He yelled back, putting his hands over your head as if they would protect you.

The two of you practically fell through the door once you unlocked it and shut off the alarm. "We made it," you laughed, careful not to slip on the floor. He had his arm around you just in case. Tess was right, He wouldn't let you fall. "I'll get us some towels and you have your pick of any dessert I have in the fridge."

"You have any cupcakes?" He asked.

Your breath caught in your throat when you stepped back and caught the outline of multiple tattoos through his soaked shirt. "Yeah."

"See something you like?" he smirked, running a hand through his wet hair.

Fuck me.

"I do," you said, glancing down at yourself. "But I'm freezing and I owe you dessert."

Tess might also have words if I let Bucky ravage me by the front door.

You took Bucky to the kitchen and grabbed a few towels. It wouldn't dry you off completely, but it would help. You also put on some soft music. Not to set the mood necessarily, but just in case.

"So, this is where the magic happens," Bucky said, running the towel along his exposed skin.

"It is," you said, placing your hand on the counter. "You said you wanted to know me. It starts here."

"In the kitchen?"

"In the kitchen," you repeated, going to the fridge to take a container of cupcakes out. "I used to visit my grandparents every weekend when I was growing up. My dad wasn't around and my mom said it was for family quality time, but she never stuck around. The reality was that I cramped her style and she passed me off to them because she knew they wouldn't say no."

Bucky's jaw clenched as you let him take a cupcake. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," you said, gripping the lid tightly before you closed the container. "I remember crying because I wanted to take dance classes and try and make friends. My mom said I would be a terrible dancer and that it would be a waste of time and money. A great thing for a kid to hear, right?"

"Jesus," he whispered.

It wasn't exactly the happiest conversation to have, but you wanted to show Bucky a part of you that you didn't show to most people. "My grandma wiped my tears away and brought me into her kitchen. Said she had the perfect cure for the blues. Baking. And that's what we did every weekend until I got old enough to look after myself."

"Your grandma sounds amazing," he said, carefully examining the cupcake in his hand. "And baking became your passion."

"It did. She taught me to pour love into every creation I make. And that's what Tess and I do for others. If someone is having a bad day, at least they can have a treat and feel a little better," you said, pride in your eyes as you looked around. "My grandma supported my dream, but my mom almost disowned me for wanting to run this place. It isn't good enough in her eyes."

I'm not good enough.

Bucky's nostrils flared as he set the dessert down. "Your business isn't good enough for her? What the hell? It's flourishing. I can barely find a lull to come in to get some undivided attention. And your customers love you. She should be proud of you."

His defense of you was heartwarming. "Doesn't matter how successful my business is. She wanted me to marry rich, probably so she could get money from me, but I didn't. She berated me when I broke up with Richard. No matter what I do, I'm never going to be good enough in her eyes," you told him, patting the counter with your hand. "But this makes me happy and that's enough."

"That's why you were sad that Antonia was so happy about our date, wasn't it? Because your mom either doesn't or wouldn't support it," he guessed, reaching for you and pulling you into his arms. "She'll probably hate me. I'm not rich. Covered in tattoos."

"I don't care what she thinks of you. I don't need a rich guy or fancy dates. I just want someone who can provide companionship and support. Someone who respects and cares for me," you said, wrapping your arms around him. "A good, hard-working guy like you deserves the same."

It was too soon to voice it, but Bucky was the kind of man you needed in your life. Someone you could share parts of yourself with and know he wouldn't judge. A man who made your heart race beyond lust.

A partnership.

He stared deeply into your eyes and you had no idea what was going through his head, but his gaze told you so much. How could a pair of eyes be so expressive? "You're perfect, Sugar, and more than enough. You hear me?"

Tears welled up in your eyes before you blinked them away. He sounded sincere and unashamed at his declaration. You hadn't done anything to deserve such praise. "No, I'm not," you whispered.

"You are to me. You took a chance and asked me out. Soothed me when tonight didn't go the way I thought it would," he said, gripping your chin to recapture your gaze. "And you trusted me enough to share something vulnerable with me when you didn't have to. It means everything."

"I feel like I can open up to you," you said as the two of you slowly swayed to the beat. You couldn't remember why you were nervous about your date to begin with.

"And I'll take care of you. I mean it."

I hope he knows I'll take care of him, too.

"You know," you began with a soft smile. "Our first kiss was in your shop."

"It was," he smiled.

"So I think it's only fair that we have our second kiss in my shop," you said.

"You did say you wanted a kiss to end our date," he said, bringing a hand to the back of your neck, but giving you a chance to stop him.

You didn't.

Even though you expected it, you still gasped when he molded his mouth against yours. Your heart pounded furiously in your chest, making you both eager and pliant as he licked his way across your lips. When he brushed his tongue against yours and took possession of your mouth, you mewled. Desire nearly blinded you from the taste of him.

I want more.

"I don't want our date to end," you breathed, clutching his arms to steady yourself.

"It doesn't have to," he said, resting a hand on your hip. His eyes were dark and full of want. To have him look at you that way, how could you possibly end the evening with one kiss? Why deny yourself what you both wanted?

"No, it doesn't," you agreed with a coy smile. "So. My place or yours?"

So. How do we think the evening will go? Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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sluttywonwoo · 3 months

Text

instead of you [part thirty-eight] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex (18+ ; mdni)

word count: 2.8k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

“You put sunscreen on, right?”

“Yes, dad.”

Jisung rolled his eyes. “I’m just trying to make sure you don’t burn.”

“Worry about yourself, lobster.”

“You need to come up with a new sunburn joke. That one is getting old.”

“I’ll go back to the drawing board, spitball a little bit,” you muttered.

Your best friend laughed. “Let me know when you land on something.”

“Aye, aye, captain.”

“Can you get my back, though?” Jisung asked.

“Sure, babe.”

You took the tube of sunblock from his hands and squeezed some into your palm. He yanked off his shirt and shoved it in his bag, turning away from you so that you could apply the sunscreen. He bent his knees a little to make it easier for you, even though he wasn’t that much taller than you.

You rubbed it in dutifully, making sure that it was all absorbed so that it wouldn’t stain his clothes when or if he put his shirt back on. When you were done, you handed the tube back to him.

“Will you do me?”

“Any day of the week,” Jisung replied, winking. “You know you don’t even have to ask, babe.”

“You two are disgusting.” You didn’t have to turn around to know who was complaining.

“We’re actually having a private conversation, Felix.”

“Well, you’re having it in the middle of a public area.”

Jisung rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything else, thankfully. It was too early in the morning to deal with their bickering.

You had woken up at dawn to make the drive over to Turtle Beach. According to the internet, the best time of day to see the sea turtles was in the morning, so that’s when you were going. No one was in a particularly good mood in the car on the way to the North Shore. It was silent. Dom tried turning the radio on at one point but Nikki immediately turned it off.

“We’ll be getting coffee after this,” Dom assured everyone, which seemed to lift the spirits at least a little bit.

It was already crowded when Dom found a parking spot on the side of the road. He was able to snag it as another car was pulling out.

People were clustered in groups around the rocks that lined the shore, holding their phones out to take pictures of what you assumed to be the turtles.

Minho had found a parking spot a little further away so he and Felix joined the rest of you a few minutes later.

That’s when the sunscreen was applied and promises of caffeine were made. You waited for your sunscreen to dry before putting your coverup back on and walking down to the beach with the Hans. You weren’t swimming at this beach, not many people did because they didn’t want to disrupt the turtles, but Nikki had made everyone put on sunblock anyway because you’d still be standing in direct sunlight.

The dropoff from the road to the sand was a bit steep and you stumbled trying to step down from the asphalt and tie the back of your coverup at the same time.

“Baby, let me,” Jisung said, pushing past his brothers to get to you. He chuckled. “That could’ve been bad. You should have just asked me to help you, or waited until we got down there.”

“I would’ve been fine,” you said, brushing it off. “Probably.”

“Knowing you, you probably would’ve hit your head on a rock or something.”

You ignored that comment because he was right and you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

The beach was kind of short even at low tide. Some mangrove trees offered a little bit of shade but that was already being monopolized by other tourists.

“I guess everyone read the same article we read,” Felix muttered.

“Seems like it,” Dom agreed.

“Should we go over there?” Minho asked, pointing to a moderately small crowd at the edge of the bay.

“I don’t see why not,” his dad said. “We can also split up if we want to. We don’t have to stay together.”

You looked at Jisung who just shrugged. “We can do whatever you want.”

“I don’t care,” you argued. “They’re your family.”

“Good point. Let’s go the other direction.”

You rolled your eyes and followed Jisung left while the other four went right. He wove in between the crowds, looking for turtles that the masses might not have spotted yet. You did the same, even though you were doubtful the two of you would find anything that the other tourists hadn’t.

You were shocked at how clear the water was. After the other beaches you’d already seen on this trip, you didn’t think it was possible for clearer water to exist. The visibility was insane. You could see every tiny detail, every bump and groove of the rocks, every grain of sand. The only thing diluting the view of everything was the white foam that washed ashore with the waves when they broke.

You took your phone out of your back pocket to snap a few pictures of the water and Jisung gave you a funny look.

“There aren’t any turtles here,” he said.

“I want a picture of the view,” you explained.

“Oh, that makes sense. Yeah, it’s beautiful.”

He watched you snap a few pictures and then offered to take some of you but you declined out of embarrassment.

“A bunch of people are doing it! Why would you be embarrassed?”

“I’m not good at posing for pictures! I always feel so awkward, especially when it’s just me.”

“Do you want us to take a picture together, then?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Jisung pulled his own phone from his pocket and ushered you over to his side. You get close to him and rest your head on his shoulder, smiling softly. He waits for a good wave to appear in the background and then takes a couple selfies.

He taps on the gallery icon in the bottom left corner of the screen to check the pictures and shows you.

“Oh, these are cute. Can you airdrop them to me later?”

“‘Course.”

Then, Jisung squinted a little harder at his screen, zooming in on something.

“What is that?” he asked you, shoving the phone into your face.

“I don’t know, it’s so pixely- and your hands are shaking.”

Jisung took the phone back. “Is that...”

He didn’t even finish the question before he was whipping around and marching toward the water without explaining, leaving you to stay standing where you were like an idiot or follow him aimlessly. You chose the latter.

“We found one!” he exclaims when you catch up with him, pointing at a dark mass in the water that had also been in the back of your pictures. You replicated his position to be able to see whatever it was more clearly and gasped when you realized it was a sea turtle.

It was a little further out than the ones that everyone was already ogling over which was probably why no one else had spotted it yet. Their dark shells also tended to blend in with the rocks, adding another layer of difficulty to the search.

“Should we call your family over?” you asked.

“Only if you’re cool with a bunch of other people swarming us.”

“You’re right, that might not be great. Especially if people start recognizing Minho.”

Jizung nodded. “Then we’d never get out of here. I’ll go run and get them. You stay here with the turtle.”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before he was off. Seemed to be a pattern today.

“She still here?” Jisung asked when he came back, the rest of his family members in tow.

You were confused before you understood that he was referring to the turtle. Apparently, he had decided its pronouns in the time he was gone.

“Yeah, she’s a little closer too,” you answered.

You pointed at the shadow in the water and all of the Hans craned their necks to see it.

“Holy shit, it's huge,” Felix commented.

“It must be really old,” Jisung added. “That’s a thing, right? The bigger a sea turtle is, the older it is?”

His brothers shrugged. “No idea.”

“Crush from Finding Nemo was like one hundred and five and he wasn’t that big,” Minho pointed out.

“You’re going off of Finding Nemo for your marine biology information?” Jisung deadpanned.

“You’re just making stuff up off the top of your head!”

“No, I heard it somewhere!”

“Does anyone have service? We could Google it,” Felix suggested.

“No, there’s none over here,” you muttered.

“Look, here she comes!” Nikki exclaimed.

You weren’t sure whether the turtle was actually coming closer or if she just wanted her sons to stop bickering, but they did and turned their attention toward the ocean.

Eventually, the sea turtle did come a little closer, close enough to be able to take pictures where people would be able to tell what they were looking at.

The six of you all standing at the edge of the water looking at the same thing was bound to draw attention eventually so you took pictures and videos until you were satisfied and then headed back to the cars.

“Minho, follow the directions I sent you to Waimea Falls,” Dom instructed. “We’re going to stop for coffee on the way over there so you should tail me but you should also have the address in case you lose us.”

Minho nodded. “Same cars?”

“We can switch it up, if you want. I’m sure Felix would love to be alone with his folks for forty-five minutes straight.”

“Wait, you said the drive was only twenty minutes,” Felix piped up.

“It is, but your mother and I could make it forty-five just for you.”

“We can all fit in my car,” Minho added, ignoring his dad.

“Wow, so I’m not good enough for you?” Felix scoffed.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I meant by that.”

“I’m good to ride with mum and dad but y/n, you should go with Felix and Minho to save them from each other.”

“You don’t want to come?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

“Nah. I mean, Minho’s right, we would all fit but it wouldn’t be that comfortable, especially for a long ride. Besides, it would be rude to leave Mom and Dad by themselves.”

“What are you talking about?” Felix muttered. “They love to be by themselves. Why do you think they keep ditching us at every possible opportunity?”

“It’ll be nice to have some time with Jisung,” Nikki counters, taking Jisung by his shoulders. “He’s been gone at uni for so long, we haven’t gotten to see him since Christmas.”

“You’ve been seeing me for over a month straight,” Jisung mumbled, sounding a lot like Felix just had.

“You know what I mean,” his mom said, exasperated.

You hadn’t really thought of that. You had been so focused on being the loving, devoted girlfriend that you always made sure to be around so that everyone could bear witness to your relationship. You hadn’t considered the fact that Jisung’s parents might have wanted to spend time with their son one-on-one, or two-on-one. You had unintentionally been hogging their son this whole time.

“Oh, that’s a great idea,” you agreed, just to let them know that you weren’t upset. “I’m sorry, I’ve been keeping him all to myself.”

“Nonsense, love,” Nikki assured you, “I didn’t mean it like that at all.”

“I know, I know, I just still feel bad.”

“Don’t feel bad. You’re his partner, you’re part of this family now too.”

You smiled appreciatively but couldn’t bring yourself to respond. Would you still be considered part of the family if you suddenly became Minho’s girlfriend? Broke one son’s heart and moved on to the next- it wouldn’t be a good look, that’s for sure.

“It’s settled then,” Jisung said, clapping his hands together in finality. “We’ll see you guys there.”

Minho’s rental car was still parked on the side of the road, but it was down the hill a bit. It was pretty steep, and the pavement was uneven. You could feel two pairs of eyes watching you as you made your way along the path. You wanted to tell Minho and Felix that they didn’t have to be so vigilant, that you weren’t that clumsy. But to be fair, you had almost just ate shit like twenty minutes ago walking in the sand. Okay, maybe they were right for that.

You made it to the car without incident and climbed into the back seat. Minho plugged the address into his phone’s GPS, which synced to the car’s ApplePlay, and reversed out of the spot. He drove up a ways and then stopped behind Dom’s car so that he could reverse without dealing with the traffic. It was a smart move on Minho’s part. He was ensuring he wouldn’t get cut off by someone else, that way he could follow his dad without having to guess which lane he was in or which car he was in front of, etc.

As the passenger, Felix was in charge of the music (as long as Minho approved of it, since the driver did have veto power). He turned it to a local island reggae station and all three of you seemed to enjoy that.

While Minho drove, Felix showed you pictures he’d taken on his camera at Turtle Beach.

“I’ve been taking them the whole trip, but I only have so much storage on an SD card, you know? I’ve uploaded the rest to my computer. We can look at them later, if you want.”

“I’d love to! Have you looked at them yet?”

“I’ve just skimmed them,” he answered. “But if they turn out anything like these I think I’ll have a pretty solid portfolio after this trip.”

“Yeah, these are incredible! You’ll have to show Minho when we stop.” Felix made a noncommittal noise. “What? They’re great!”

“I’m glad you think so. Unfortunately, when it comes to my photography and videography, the wow factor has mostly worn off for my brothers. Even Minho, who’s supposed to be an performer, can’t pretend to be impressed anymore.”

“Harsh.”

“You’re telling me.”

“I guess they picked Dunkin,” Minho said, entirely ignoring the conversation you and Felix were having about him as he turned into the shopping center’s parking lot.

“Fine with me,” you said.

“It was probably the quickest choice,” Felix mused. “I would like to try some local coffee shops, though. Hawai’i is known for their coffee.”

“Maybe tomorrow we can look for one,” you offered.

He grinned. “I’m down.”

The drive-thru line wasn’t that long, thankfully. Minho ordered for the three of you all on the same ticket to speed things along too. He pretended not to hear you when you offered to pay for yourself.

Dom waited for your car in a parking spot by the exit to the main road. Minho did what he’d done before and waited for his dad to pull out before following him.

“Make sure to drink all of that before we get to the park,” Minho said as he passed out the cups. “I don’t think we’re allowed to bring outside food or drink inside. Yo, I didn’t mean you had to chug it right now,” he clarified.

You pulled your iced coffee away from your lips guiltily. “Sorry.”

“The drive is like twenty minutes, remember? You have time to finish it.”

“I remember.”

“So then why-”

“I don’t know, it felt like the right thing to do.”

“You’ve been in uni for too long,” he decided, shaking his head.

“Maybe she just needs the caffeine to hit faster,” Felix suggested defensively.

“Exactly, thank you, Lix.”

He gave you a smile of acknowledgment in the rearview mirror and a thumbs up. You sipped your coffee slowly as Minho drove through the winding mountains of Oahu, resting your forehead against the window. You knew there’d be sunscreen residue to clean off of it later but the cool glass felt nice against your skin.

You tuned Minho and Felix out until you heard your name. That’s when you sat up again and rejoined the conversation.

“Hm?”

“Min just asked what I think Jisung is talking about with our parents right now and I said they’re probably giving him a lecture about not losing you,” Felix explained.

You made a face. “What?”

“You know, like telling him he better treat you well or whatever parents say to their kids when they want a son or daughter-in-law.”

Your eyes shifted to Minho before you could stop them. His grip on the steering wheel tightened just enough to make his knuckles turn white but he kept his expression calm.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” you mumbled.

“I bet they’ll at least bring it up,” Felix countered. “They love you!”

You forced a smile and sunk down in your seat. Not for long.

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

#instead of you stray kids #instead of you skz #iou stray kids #iou skz #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids series #lee know x reader #lee know x female reader #lee know x bi!reader #lee know series #lee minho x reader #minho x reader

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autisticlancemcclain · 1 year

Text

In all the love songs Keith has heard (and he’s heard many, both his Pa and Shiro were big ballad fans), he’s always heard laughter described as angelic.

That’s how it is. Over and over again. When you fall in love with someone, when cupid’s arrow strikes, their laughter will be like musical bells, like windchimes, melodic and beautiful and entrancing, and you will never want to hear anything else.

Lance sounds like a hyena on crack when he laughs.

Keith is obsessed with it.

The love ballads got one half of it right, he supposes. He does shut the fuck up and listen when Lance laughs. It is like the only sound he can hear.

It’s just not…musical.

“Your sighs get any dreamier and he’s going to hear you,” Shiro says idly, colouring his nails with Sharpie.

Keith drops his chin from his hands, turning away from where he was watching Lance laugh with Hunk and Allura and scowling at his asshole brother. “He is not.”

Shiro snickers, not even bothering to look up. Keith wonders if it’s morally acceptable to smack the shit out of someone with only one arm, or if Shiro will call foul and convince everyone that Keith is somehow the asshole here.

“Is so. You’re so besotted that even I’m embarrassed for you, and I usually just laugh when you’re being humiliating.”

Keith decides that the potential reputation tarnishing is worth it.

“Ow!” Shiro cries, clutching his flesh arm with way more drama than necessary. “My arm!” He glances over at the scattered stares he receives, from various uniformed officers, and pitches his voice louder to get more attention. “My only remaining human arm!”

“Keith, stop trying to kill your brother,” Coran admonishes. “He’s sensitive.”

Shiro shoots him the tiniest smirk before returning to his fake pout. Keith’s jaw drops in indignation. “Wh — he antagonized me — it’s not my — Coran!”

Coran only raises his eyebrows. “Is there a problem, Number Three, or shall I get your mother involved?”

Pidge makes an obnoxious oooooooooh sound, wiggling her eyebrows at him, because she and Shiro are the worst, actually, and for good measure Coran is too.

“I hate this family,” Keith mutters, sinking into his seat. “All of you suck.”

“Okay, emo boy,” Shiro says patronizingly.

Unfortunately, Iverson walks in and starts the Atlas briefing before Keith can smack him again. He settles for glaring at his dumbass brother, who sticks his tongue out at him like the toddler he is, and then vows to pay attention to the meeting. He is the black paladin, after all.

He lasts four whole minutes.

It’s not his fault. If anything it’s Iverson’s fault. The meeting is boring as hell, and a quick glance around the meeting table shows that the only person paying attention is the note-taking robot Pidge made, and that doesn’t even count ‘cause it’s a robot. Several senior officers are outright sleeping. The MFE pilots are quietly passing around a game of dots. Hunk has blatantly pulled out an engineering project of his and is working on it in full and total view of Iverson (he still hates the man for what he did to Lance when they were cadets, claiming that since Lance has forgiven him, someone needs to hold a grudge). Pidge and Matt seem to be communicating in Morse code. Allura is directing her mice in some kind of acrobatic performance, and Coran is helping her. Shiro is trying to see how many spitballs he can land on Iverson’s blind side before he notices (he’s riding the line with 34). Lance is staring at Keith.

Lance is staring at Keith?

He startles when he meets Lance’s brown eyes, but Lance only smiles, wiggling his fingers in a little wave. Keith tilts his head in confusion, trying to wordlessly ask Lance why he’s staring, and also manage to keep his rapidly creeping blush under control.

(He likes it when Lance stares at him).

Lance squeezes his eyes shut instead of answering, and a moment later Keith feels a prodding in the back of his mind; a familiar presence, hot and fiery and all-encompassing.

Red.

He lets her in, lets her familiar feeling envelop his mind. She struts primly in his mindscape, nosing at Black as if to say I was here first, so just remember who’s boss.

Black lets her prance around with fond amusement.

Before Keith can ask her why she’s pushed her way through — not that he minds, he’s happy to have her, but she hasn’t felt the need to visit him in a while so he’s curious — he feels another presence almost knock on his subconscious, request access to his mindscape.

Red has…brought someone else?

Can she do that?

Red looks at him flatly, like his doubt is a personal offence. Before she can start admonishing him, the presence pushes again; not urgent, but insistent, almost as if someone is knocking on the door of Keith’s mind and doesn’t want to be ignored.

Beyond curious, Keith lets them in.

The second Keith opens his mental door, it’s like they rush in, flowing in like the white rapids of a river, strong and fast and excited, cool and bubbly. There’s so much of them that it takes Keith a good couple of minutes to conceptualise just who exactly has followed Red into Keith’s mind. The rushing water takes shape into a person; tall, gangly, broad-shoulders with a mop of curly brown hair and bright brown eyes, freckles spotted over their nose and grin wide and sparking.

Keith gapes.

“Lance?!”

“Is everything alright, Kogane?”

Keith blinks open his eyes to find the entire meeting table staring at him, expressions ranging from confused to knowing to outright teasing. He realises all of a sudden that he’s spoken aloud, and not only spoken but called Lance’s name out, loudly, for seemingly no reason, in the middle of a crowded meeting.

His face flames.

“All is well,” he chokes out. “Please carry on.”

Iverson narrows his eyes at him for a moment, but eventually shakes himself and continues. Keith stays bright red for several minutes, staring pointedly down at the table, ignoring the various sniggers he can hear with every ounce of his effort. Unfortunately, some of the teasing laughter is inside his actual literal brain, what the fresh fuck, so it’s a fruitless endeavour.

Are you still freaking out? the Lance inside his head (???) asks.

What in the gall brained fuck is going on, Keith thinks back at it, looking at Real Lance in a decent mix of panic, confusion, and the actual phonetic sound that an exclamation point mixed with a question mark makes in your brain. Real Lance has his eyes closed, brows creased in concentration, and the tiniest of smirks pulling up at his lips.

Close your eyes and meditate, doofus, Mind Lance tells him. I’m using a lot of energy right now so I don’t have the space to try and reign you up here.

Despite the fact that Keith is so confused that a thousand professors could not explain his current situation to him in any way that makes sense, he listens, closing his eyes tightly and visualizing his physical bond with Black, like he does when he flies. It helps him sink into the semi-astral plane of existence, usually so he can meld with his lion and the rest of the team when they’re forming Voltron, but whenever he’s trying to reach his own mindscape, too. He’s still aware of his physical body, he’s not quite projected out of it, but he’s not wholly in it, either. Most of his essence is focused on seeing as his mind sees, without the constraints of the physical plane.

“Took you long enough,” Lance huffs.

“What the fuck,” Keith responds.

He packs quite a lot of questions into that what the fuck, he thinks. Like ‘what the fuck are you doing here’, for starters. Or ‘what the fuck just happened with the water and Red and everything else’, if he wants to be specific. Or, if he really just wants to cover everything, ‘what the fuck is happening’ might just do it.

“Your internal monologue fascinates me,” Lance informs him.

Keith flushes. (Does he flush in his mindscape? Does he have the blood and physical body necessary in order to flush? Or is he just embarrassed, so his perception of himself is blushing because that’s the only way he knows how to conception use the feeling? God, Voltron magic shit is so weird. Keith lowkey misses mapping energies alone in the desert and wondering if he was delusional.)

“Stop hearing my internal monologue,” he orders.

Lance pouts. “You’re no fun. I want to hear all the juicy gossip you think about me because you’re too emotionally stunted to say it.”

Lance is only joking, Keith knows he is. He’s leaned forward slightly, like he always does when he’s teasing, and his smile is close-mouthed, unserious.

But Keith of course panics anyway.

A million snapshots of Lance flash through his mind — Lance laughing, head thrown back, barely holding himself up; Lance dancing around the briefing room at two in the morning as he plans a mission; Lance with his tongue stuck out of his mouth, concentrating hard on tiny knitting needles and tiny little mouse-sweaters; Lance with tears shining in his eyes, glancing at a projection of Earth, long before they finally made it home; Lance dirty and hurt, cradled to his chest as Keith runs him too a pod after Sendak. A thousand moments of Lance when Keith was fondest of him, when just looking at him made the ballads Keith grew up with play in his head.

He hurries to shove the memories in an obscure corner of his head and prays that Lance doesn’t see them.

“Can you actually hear my thoughts,” Keith asks, a little desperately.

Lance waves a dismissive hand. “Nah. I get emotional impressions, but that’s about it. I can’t even see anything in here expect you and Red, basically. And Black. Hi, Black!” He waves excitedly to the lion, who sits regally in the dead centre of Keith’s mindscape. She turns to the red paladin in amusement, nodding her head once. Lance beams.

Keith feels a rush of fondness for him so potent it makes his heart hurt, a little.

“Woah,” Lance says, looking at him a little wide-eyed. “I felt that, Willie Nelson. Holy softie.”

“How and why are you here,” Keith says, blatantly changing the subject and not giving even one single shit about being subtle about it. Lance is looking at him too closely.

Luckily, Lance indulges him, or is too excited about being here in general to resist talking about it.

“Isn’t it so cool?” he gushes. “I’ve been working on it with Red for ages! I figured since we all have that emotional bond with each other and the lions during Voltron, and we keep our lion bonds outside of Voltron, we should be able to communicate with each other outside of Voltron, too. Red wasn’t sure if it was possible but she helped me try, and I figured I’d try with you first because it would be the easiest, since we’re so close and all. And you’re more likely to let me in your head.”

He says it so matter-of-factly. Like it’s obvious that they are so close, and that Keith loves him so much that he wouldn’t mind Lance in his head, not really.

The worst part is that he’s right.

With anyone else, this would feel like an invasion of space. Keith would be defensive immediately, angry even, throwing them right the hell out of his head and yelling at them as he does it.

But with Lance?

He’s a little shocked, sure. And worried, that Lance is going to see all the parts of him that Keith isn’t ready yet to show him; the parts that he doesn’t yet know how to say, how to show. The parts of Keith that soften every time Lance smiles at him, the parts that light up with gleeful competition whenever Lance eggs him on, the parts that chafe and ache but smooth over when Lance sits with him quietly when he’s hurting.

Keith knows that Lance knows that he loves him. He doesn’t exactly hide it. He’s not sure he would, even if he could.

But he’s not ready to tell him. Not yet.

He takes a deep breath. (Or whatever the mindscape equivalent is).

He knows Lance won’t go looking.

“And you decided to pull this telepathy shit in the middle of a random meeting?” Keith teases, allowing some of the worry to slip away.

This is, after all, cool as shit, even if it’s weird.

“It’s not an important meeting!” Lance defends. “It’s boring, and I needed entertainment! Besides, Pidge’s bot will give us all the notes anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah. Slacker. Some right hand man you are.”

Keith spends the rest of the dead-boring meeting teasing and chatting with Lance in his mindscape, which is great because he both gets to mess with Lance, which is always a net positive, because he has the upper hand in his own head, and because he gets to look like he’s paying attention in the meeting and actually be completely checked out.

“Oh, hey, I think the meeting’s ending,” Lance says. “I can hear Iverson winding down a bit.”

“Time to get out of my head then, you squatter?”

Lance rolls his eyes, waving to Red to get her attention. She stalks over, nosing him in the head like a mother cat to her kitten. Lance bats her away. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll head out. But only because I’m not practiced enough at this thing, so if I stay in your head it’ll look like I’m frozen or something. Once I figure out how to look normal and still beam my thoughts into your head, you’re never going to be without me even once in your life.”

Lance is teasing again. Keith can tell. But still, he’s totally helpless to stop what comes out next.

“I’d be okay with that.”

He sounds so besotted he wants to smack himself. But before he can even have the space to be embarrassed, he feels a wave of emotions that aren’t his — Lance’s, from the other end of their connection, a mix of embarrassment and selfish pleasure so thick that Keith can feel it even though they’re in Keith’s mindscape.

His jaw drops.

Lance wants Keith’s undivided attention. He’s preening over it.

“I gotta go,” Lance says hastily. “Uh, meeting ending and everything.”

Before Keith can so much as stop him, he feels the same strange feeling as before, the cool, rushing water of a river, only this time it’s flowing out of of his head rather than into it. Lance has retreated hastily from his mindscape, and Red follows, much slower and much more smug, visibly laughing at her paladin.

When Keith opens his eyes again, Lance is bright red, and won’t meet his eyes.

Keith smiles. Maybe he’s not the only one who’s not quite ready to spill his guts.

———

part two

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wolvesandvisions · 8 months

Text

Thinking about the Winter King’s comment… when he said “that’s not how he remembers it” in response to Simon saying Betty was the love of their lives.

I’m just spitballing, but I also remember how in our first introduction to Betty, when Simon apologizes he says something along the lines of “I’m sorry and I forgive you for leaving me,”.

I always thought that line was a little weirdly accusatory especially because it’s immediately followed by Betty going “where would I go without you?” Before jumping into the portal.

Something tells me, based on our Simon and Betty’s inability to let go, something about their relationship has a “we’re too far in to stop now” element to it. As if the war didn’t happen maybe they wouldn’t have been compatible, but the tragedy they couldn’t control left a weird impact and a lack of closure on their psyches.

Betty’s ultimate lesson in the main series was to let Simon go and focus on herself, she actively chose to ignore it. Simon is doing the same thing, and based on the Winter King’s dialogue…it may be uniquely him.

#adventure time #fionna and cake #fionna and cake spoilers #adventure time spoilers #simon petrikov #betty grof

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vodika-vibes · 3 months

Note

Hehehehe… Okay, you said it would be cool to send in another request, and after the Jesse fic which was absolutely fluffy and squeal worthy, I’m sending in another.

White Tulip and Yellow Orchid

You break up with Fox, and it’s taking a toll on the both of you. It was hard enough when you found out Fox cheated, but somehow it’s even harder not being around each other in a relationship.

I don’t know something along those lines; maybe realizing they are better suited as friends with th hope for more or maybe Fox realizing you deserve better… I’m just spitballing. Anyhew … love oo

Regrets

Summary: You break up with Fox, and both of you are suffering for it.

Pairing: Commander Fox x F!Reader

Word Count: 1724

Prompts: White tulip - new beginnings, Yellow Orchid - Forgiveness

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: So, I ended up having to change some things from your request to make it something that I'm able to write. Turns out cheating is an unforgivable hardline for me, which is good to know about myself. So I ended up completely dumping that plot idea for something else. I hope you don't mind.

You don’t look up when the chair across from you slides away from the table. You already have a good idea of who’s going to be sitting there.

“Are you here to yell at me too, Commander?” You ask as you pour some more sugar into your caf, take a sip, grimace, and then add even more sugar. It already tastes like caf flavored sugar, but you need the extra energy. Even if it’s cheap energy.

“Buy me a Caf,” Commander Wolffe says, his dark eyes serious as he looks at you, “And something to eat. We need to talk.”

You lift your gaze and scowl at him, but you pull out your credit chit and set it in his hand, “Order what you like, I suppose.”

Wolffe nods and heads to the counter, only to return several minutes later with a large caf and a breakfast sandwich. He hands you your credit chit back as he takes a seat.

You shift and rest your chin on the palm of your hands, “Alright. Lay it on me.”

Wolffe arches a brow, “You expecting something from me?”

“Thorn, Thire, and Stone have already come to yell at me, and they’re not Fox’s twin. You are. So,” you gesture vaguely, “Go ahead. Start yelling.”

“I’m not going to yell at you, sen’ika.” Wolffe says quietly.

“Well, that’s a first.” You mutter.

“I don’t kick people when they’re down.” He continues, his sharp eyes lingering on the dark circles under your eyes, and the sheer amount of sugar you’re adding to your caf. “That’s going to taste awful.”

“Meh.”

“Sen’ika,” He says slowly, quietly, “You’re clearly miserable-”

“I’m fine.” You interrupt.

“You’re not.” There’s a firmness in his voice that stops you from arguing back. “When was the last time you went home?”

“Last night.”

“And slept more than an hour or two?” He asks with a pointed look.

You look away from him, “It’s…not important.”

“Sen’ika,” His voice is so gentle, “Why did you break up with Fox?”

Your hands fold into fists, “Maybe I was cheating on him. Maybe I wasn’t happy.”

“You might be able to pull the shit with other people,” Wolffe says quietly, “But I saw how happy you and Fox were together. And I know you would never cheat on him. So try again.”

You press your lips into a thin line. “I…I refuse to be another burden on him.” You admit quietly.

“Elaborate.”

“You don’t see him after work, Wolffe. He’s so tired. All of the time and some of the bruises and scars…” You trail off, “He was happy with me, yes, but having to hide me from everyone? For my own protection? It was wearing him down. And I can’t, won’t, do that to him.”

“He’s miserable.”

“I know.”

“You’re miserable.”

“I know.”

Wolffe is quiet for a moment, “Is there nothing I can say to make you change your mind?”

“I will not let him kill himself for me.” You say quietly, “And if that means that I’m on the shitlist for every single member of the guard…then so be it.”

Wolffe doesn’t say anything for a long time, and then he sighs, “I’ll talk to the guard. Tell them to lay off.” He stands and drops a light kiss to the top of your head, “Fox loves you,” He says quietly, “He’s never going to stop loving you. You should at least give him a choice.”

“He’d pick-”

“You. Always you. And we both know it.” He pulls away, “Just think about it, alright? Thanks for the food.” And then Wolffe is gone.

You cast your gaze back to your caf, sigh, and add some more sugar.

Even if you want to talk to Fox, it’ll never happen. Thorn made that plenty clear the other day. And then Thire made it clear later when he came to yell at you on your way home.

You sigh at your caf, and then you pick it up and down half of it, before you make a face.

Gross.

About a week later, you’re at home, trying to clean up the mess that your house has turned into since you haven’t had energy, or frankly, the will to keep up with it.

According to everything you’ve ever read in your life, time is supposed to heal all wounds, but you’re starting to wonder if that was just something that people said to give themselves hope.

Because you aren’t healing.

In fact, you feel worse than ever.

Bad enough that you’re starting to wonder if you’re actually sick, because a broken heart (a self-inflicted broken heart even) shouldn’t hurt this much, right?

You’re so involved in your cleaning that you don’t hear the knock on the door at first. It’s not until the doorbell rings, startling you bad enough that your vacuum falls from your hands, that you realize you have company.

You look at the mess that is your home and sigh. Maybe they won’t want to come inside?

Carefully, because you had the genius idea of dumping everything you own in the middle of the living room so you can organize it properly, you step over the piles of stuff to get to the door.

You press the door control to open the door, “Yes? Can I hel-” You stop mid-sentence when you see who’s standing there. “...Fox. Um…I mean, Commander.”

He looks…pissed.

“Let me in.” He bites out.

“We’re not dating anymore, Commander. You can’t order your way into my home.” You offer as you avert your gaze from his face. More than just angry, he looks tired. About as tired as you feel, really.

You hear him exhale sharply, “You’re wearing my shirt, cyare.” Even his voice is tight with anger, “Let me in.”

You glance down at the shirt, his shirt, that you are wearing, and you silently move to the side. “...sorry about the mess.”

“What mes-” He stops as soon as he steps into your apartment, and his jaw drops, “Holy kriff, did a bomb go off in your living room?”

You fold your arms, “I’m deep cleaning.”

“By making a bigger mess?”

“I have a system.”

“Is it working?”

You scowl at him, “I’ll let you know.”

He glances at you, and his lips twitch up into a small smile, before he looks away, as if suddenly remembering that he’s supposed to be angry at you. You avert your eyes as well, it’s easy, far too easy, to fall back into easy bantering with Fox.

You broke up with him.

You told him that you weren’t happy anymore.

You have no right to his time or his smiles.

“I had a chat with Wolffe.”

Oh.

“He told me something interesting.”

Kriff. You should have sworn Wolffe to secrecy.

“You broke up with me because you wanted to protect me?” There’s a strange mix of emotions in his voice. Anger, yes. There’s a lot of anger. But there’s also hurt, and something you recognize as affection.

“Wolffe is a kriffing snitch,” You mutter.

“Yeah, well. Maybe you shouldn’t have tried to confide in my twin,” Fox points out, “And then he wouldn’t have snitched on you.”

You purse your lips, “See if I ever buy him breakfast again.”

“He came to stop the Guard from harassing you,” Fox says, “I didn’t know that they were harassing you.”

“It’s…fine. I deserved it.”

“You didn’t.”

You sigh and turn your gaze to him, “Why are you here, Fox?”

“Because I love you.”

“That’s-”

He presses a finger against your lips, “Stop and listen.” Fox waits a moment, and as soon as he realizes that you’re going to do as he asks, he adjusts his hand so that his thumb is brushing against your lips. “I love you and I’m not going to give up on us simply because you think you’re a burden.”

“I am a burden. I saw how exhausted you were-”

“I’m more exhausted now.” Fox counters sharply. “Because I’m still trying to keep you safe, only now I have to do it in secret!”

“I never asked-” You start.

“You never had to. It’s what you do when you love something.”

“Fox-”

“I know you think that you’re a burden to me. And I know I’m so tired all of the time, and I know you worry about me all of the time.” Fox says, “But I love you. And you don’t get to decide what’s best for me. Only I get to choose that, and you’re what’s best for me.”

“Fox-,” You repeat his name, feeling tears pricking your eyes.

“I’m happier when I’m with you. You give me a reason to want to wake up in the morning.”

“I hurt you.”

“And I forgive you.”

“Just like that? You were so angry-”

“Of course I was! You broke up with me after deciding what was best for me! I’m pissed about it!” Fox bites out, “But I still love you and I’m willing to accept the fact that you did this because you were worried about me.”

“...I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you.” Fox repeats, he searches your face, and apparently finds what he’s looking for there, “Cyare, do you still love me?”

“...of course I do.”

“Be my girlfriend again?” Fox asks, “Please. We can start over if you really think we have to. I just…let me be a part of your life. I need you in my life.”

You sigh, softly. How could you say no to that? To him?

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay. I’ll be your girlfriend again.”

“Oh thank kriff,” Fox blurts as he presses his forehead against yours and closes his eyes, “Can we take a kriffing nap, I feel like I haven’t slept in weeks.”

You glance at the pile of stuff on the floor of the living room, and then turn your guilty gaze on Fox, “I think my comforter is in the mess.”

Fox glances at the pile of stuff, and then shakes his head, “No matter.” He carefully scoops you into his arms and steps over the stuff, before he heads into the bedroom and drops you on the bed, before he curls up against you, “Sleep first, everything else later.”

You tuck your head against his chest, and he folds himself around you. And you’re both asleep in a matter of moments.

#star wars #tcw #vodika-vibes follower celebration #commander fox x reader #fox x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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shima-draws · 7 months

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One thing about Kieran I find interesting that I haven't seen talked about elsewhere is that his fixation on Ogerpon likely comes from his obsession with strength, not the other way around. Like as early as the first signboard he mentions that one of the reasons he thinks the ogre from the story is so cool is that it was strong enough to take on three other pokemon at the same time. But Ogerpon herself doesn't seem to value strength, she seems to value kindness, which is why I think she ultimately chooses the player- our acceptance of her is unconditional, and we don't have the same sort of expectation of strength from her that Kieran does. And Kieran fails to realize that, which he proves when he challenges us to a battle for Ogerpon- he still thinks that he can win her over by showing strength, when it was never something she herself cared about, and was something he projected onto her. In a way, Kieran's feelings towards Ogerpon mirror his feelings towards the player- he latches onto us because we're strong, grows possessive over us, then spirals when we "betray" the expectations that he imposed onto us, that were never based on our actual behaviour but his idealization, and he fails to learn his lesson, doubling down and growing even more obsessed with strength as a consequence. I'm so excited to see where Indigo Disk takes him, I have some Theories that involve the potential Momotaro pokemon that might appear there, but this ask is long enough already LOL

YES YES YES yes to all of this. I think another thing is that due to his fixation on strength Kieran probably believes that having Ogerpon will make him strong, strong enough to beat the player. Which is another reason why he latches on to her so much and refuses to just give her up to the player.

And as for Ogerpon, everything kind of flips when we get her backstory reveal. She didn’t fight off the Lousy Three because she was flexing her strength, she fought them because they were crooks who stole the last precious things tying her to her human friend. But Kieran grew up believing that she liked to fight and show off her power, so there’s the wrong point of obsession for him.

I’ve also seen theories floating around that Kieran might be the Champion of Blueberry Academy, or that he becomes the Champion. And if that’s true his whole thing about getting stronger suddenly makes SO much more sense. Carmine even compliments him and says he’s a pretty strong Trainer, which like. Coming from her that’s a pretty big deal lol. I don’t think Kieran tries to challenge and beat you out of arrogance or ego tho,, it most likely ties into the possible inferiority complex he has. Maybe even tho he’s considered the “strongest” he still feels like it’s not enough, and when faced with an unbeatable trainer like the player, that makes him feel even MORE inferior and further fuels his desire to get stronger :’)

Idk I’m spitballing at this point. Again I’m obsessed with his character arc and am in a deep dive with analysis. I love hearing you guys’ takes on him too, so don’t apologize for the long ask!! This is feeding me good I’m enjoying every second of this discussion lol

#‘Ogerpon values kindness over strength’ Yeah…yeah 🥺💖 SO true #Pokemon #Kieran #Pokemon Kieran #Ogerpon #Shima answers questions #The Teal Mask #Pokemon SV

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ourflagmeansgayrights · 7 months

Note

hi i dont know if there is any meaning, but why didnt jim paint the eyes? they painted a beard, sure, but... i mean, with everybody else, it was around the eyes, right?

i hadn’t ever thought abt this before so at first i was like “man idk” BUT after thinking abt it for two seconds. it might have smthng to do with like… of all the ppl on the ship with ed, i think jim has the best grasp of what’s going on??? archie’s just like “yeah this is just normal pirate stuff,” izzy was putting up with everything up until ed said he’s replaceable, frenchie’s locking shit in a box and repressing all his negative emotions as hard as he can, and fang is too busy crying to really like, do much of anything. but jim is like, holding it together while also not accepting that this is how things need to be.

also there are two moments that really stick out to me that make me feel like jim might get what’s going on with ed in a way the other characters don’t. there’s the “he was your friend” line, which while technically i think jim is wrong about that (ed’s said it himself last season, he doesn’t have anyone he considers a friend), i feel like what jim is getting at there is the fact that this isn’t the ed they knew. ed never treated his crew members like this, and ed was someone who should’ve been saddened by ivan’s death instead of not even batting an eye. also just the fact that jim said something to ed’s face about how the shit he was doing was fucked up stands out to me.

the other moment is when the crew is hiding from ed in the one hallways and they’re like “is ed?? better??? he seems cheered up??” and jim is like “NO this is NOT better.” jim’s the only one who says something abt how ed’s whole cheery attitude that day was not ed being in a better place.

WAIT ANOTHER MOMENT. when jim decides they’re not gonna kill archie and ed’s like “awww guess we’re all gonna die” and jim’s like “YOU WERE GONNA DO IT ANYWAY!!!” and ed’s like. teehee yeah <3. something something jim seeing through ed’s bullshit something.

this is getting longer than i wanted it to so i’m not gonna get too deep into this point but since s1 i’ve thought that ed and jim feel very similar in terms of like, being raised with people expecting them to do violence and not actually wanting to live their lives that way. also they’re both badasses who have so much gender.

yeah so. something abt jim’s eyes not being painted and jim being the one on the ship who can see what’s going on and what ed’s doing better than any of the other characters. this could be nothing tho i’m just spitballing this. it maybe could just be that the costume dept decided vico looked better without the raccoon eyes idk

#ofmd #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd season 2 #ofmd s2 #ofmd 2 #our flag means death #ofmd meta #jim jimenez #ofmd jim #ask #anon #mine #txt #meta #og

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nixthelapin · 2 months

Text

A Jekyll&Hyde type akuma whose power is to bring out a hidden or repressed part of your personality (but like, making two of you instead of switching in one body), and when Chat gets hit suddenly there’s both “normal” Chat (I’ll get to that in a sec) and Cat Walker/Patte de Velours at the same time.

(Cue Ladybug freaking out upon learning they’re the same person)

“Normal” Chat looks the same, but is just a bit more intense (since this is Adrien’s way of “letting loose” to not be how he is as a civilian, he’s not too different, but because of the split he does lose some usual traits). I.e. *heavily* flirting with LB, going at it with the puns, more agressive and impulsive with the akuma, doesnt like following orders (especially with the remaining feelings of anger towards the partnership being put further into question as LB prefers CW), heart on his sleeve

Cat Walker is also not super different to the episode he was in, but is also more intense thanks to the akuma: all business- no nonsense, doesn’t laugh at jokes (even in a “I’ll laugh if you want” way, like in Kuroneko), cordial to LB, follows LB’s orders to a T (to the point of not making his own decisions in battle), calm and collected (almost emotionless, even with that plastered smile)

CN starts to hate CW as the fight goes on, because LB seems to prefer him (and she’s understandably getting annoyed with CN’s impulsivity). CN gets territorial, saying that he’s LB’s partner. CW: “then why did she replace you with me?” (Man, look at all the self hatred in Adrien’s psyche!)

So CN runs off and leaves them alone to fight the akuma. This ticks LB off even more, but she has an akuma to deal with- and she has CW- so she lets him go.

As the fight goes on, some of the same issues from Kuroneko occur, so she also gets frustrated with CW too.

Since he’s acting more extreme than normal (more like someone awaiting orders than a partner due to the Jekyll&Hyde thing), it causes more problems (like him waiting for her decisions leaving openings where he could’ve done something proactive)

She actually blows up at him, asking why he didn’t do anything (“I was waiting for you to tell me the plan!”), and she says he should be able to think on his own, he doesn’t need her to tell him everything, but- “I thought I was just being what you wanted.”

(He’s shocked and genuinely hurt- though it’s still pretty quiet emotion, subdued and apologetic)

And that’s when it clicks for her what becoming CW was back in Kuroneko. He was molding himself for her. And this version of CW is even more of that. She realizes just how much CN suppresses, not just for her, but for everyone- why else would this be a major aspect of his personality?

(Also, Patte de Velours? Velvet Paw? That’s basically saying he’s been declawed. Yikes.)

She makes CN get his butt back to the fight (or she finds him- he may have been doing something while away like talking with someone, maybe Alya or Nino, or Luka). CN and CW argue more, with insults. Then she goes on a whole rant/lecture to them about how important they both are, both to her and to each other, how they are one person, and their traits are both important, but each extreme is not great. Ex: instinct/impulse and service/obedience (the key is self control, so that your emotions aren’t controlling you, but neither is another person). He is allowed to be both! Neither personality is bad, and hating one is just hating himself- he can’t just reject a fundamental part of himself.

She makes them agree to work together to defeat the akuma. It’s awkward at first, but they get a rhythm by seeing where each one is needed in the plan (LB does still do that, but how they follow is more fluid now). Two cataclysms now! Yay! (Maybe they used their powers already and have to de transform, and they see themselves as Adrien- the same one, not different, and it gets through their skulls. Idk I’m spitballing).

They have a quick talk between the two about accepting each other, it won’t be easy, I’m nervous, we’ll be okay (“yeah, I think we will :)”), etc.

Ends with them combining back with the ladybug cure. Surprise! His outfit is combined too! (Honestly, I just want the ponytail with the fluffy hair)

LB and CN have a talk after recharging about everything. CN apologizes for lying about CW and explains why and how he did it. LB didn’t realize how much he hid. She never meant for him to change or hate parts of himself. He thought she didn’t like the CN parts of him, but LB promises that isn’t true. She admits she did get… annoyed, but never hate! She loves both sides of him. Besides, CW didn’t work out that first time, remember? (Though she very much leaves out her intense crushing being the deciding factor there)

CN admits he feels more, well, not whole, exactly, he’s actually still pretty uncertain about what all this means for “who he is,” but… he can at least say he feels less like he has to perform all the time. He loves being Chat Noir, but he is exaggerating a bit when he transforms, in part to be not like his civilian life. He tells her he’s not like that as a civilian, but he’s also not like Cat Walker. But he’s not really sure who “he” is yet. (What I’m getting at is Oblivio!Adrien- dorky, but not over the top, in love, trusts his lady to make the plan, but is still proactive, etc.)

LB says that’s okay, he doesn’t have to figure it out right away. But she’ll be there to help him figure it out.

END

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elodieunderglass · 7 months

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Referring to you "anxieties of the culture" horror tropes post, I just watched the 1990 adaptation of IT and this comes less than a month after watching both Kolchak movies & starting the TV show. What do you think it was about the late-70s/early-80s that led to "the killer is a monster that hibernates for a set number of years before returning to perform the killings again, as a grim echo of the past, and it's up to the heroes to stop it now before it rears its ugly head again"? There's gotta be some "pass-the-buck" crisis that PEAKED in that time period, something that was a long time coming before that and may or may not have continued since. I don't think it's climate change, that wasn't really at Critical Mass yet until the HFC hairspray crisis of the mid-80s. Your thoughts?

(In reference to this post: https://www.tumblr.com/elodieunderglass/729604545735458816)

Oh that is SO interesting! I also like the Horrors of the Past that Re-Emerge. You get them in fantasy too. To some extent they’re quite nice, because they displace responsibility, allowing the heroes to grapple with something distanced. necromantically resurrected Zombie Nazis will always be a more appealing enemy, for a broad market, than your present-day actual real life QAnon uncle. You can blow up an Ancient Horror as much as you like, can’t you? You don’t need to worry about the tricky present-day political circumstances that birthed the serial killer if it’s actually an ancient time-travelling monster. Monsters are often articulated and described and used because they are “safe” in this way: a displaced thing that can be used. Separate from us in species, appearance, home planet, history of origin, motives, spacetime - the farther they are from us and our shared background, the more justifiable it is to nuke them from orbit, to make a splashy movie.

HOWEVER. As I said in that post - “horror reflects social anxieties” is a SUPER well-described piece of media study and you can read proper writing about that anywhere. I encourage you to seek it out! They say it much better than I do.

I also said in that post that I, myself, don’t watch horror/movies/film. It isn’t due to contempt for the genre, or fear of the content - I just can’t get into it or get immersed, which defeats the point of an immersive genre meant to provoke response. (For example, despite being explicitly told that I would love Stranger Things Season 4 and that I was required to write fic about it for a friend, I gave out at the beginning of season 2; despite being really fond of Welcome to Night Vale at a formative time of my life, I dropped out before StrexCorp. And those are things I generally liked, wanted to consume, and knew I would enjoy! It’s a me problem, and I’m not bothered by it. I am TOO BUSY.)

That’s just to say that I could spitball some thoughts, but I’d be out of my depth.

But here’s an idea. A very small minority of people in the notes took offence to me having meta thoughts about horror when I don’t consume the genre - and worse, saying them out loud, while also openly admitting that I’m out of my depth and would prefer an expert to say it better. “YOU are a COWARD,” they say. “The audacity of commenting on a trend in a genre that you don’t even watch.” “You complain so much but don’t even watch these films” “imagine writing all this with such a bad attitude about horror.” etc.

I think those people have effectively volunteered to write you an essay. They clearly have the horror-consuming chops! Perhaps not the reading comprehension … or analysis skills… but they definitely watch a lot more horror media than I do, so why not give them a crack at it? (This is jokes, don’t bother them.)

Alternatively - there are a lot of clever and savvy people with good takes around here, so they’re welcome to spin out some answers on this post.

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belle-of-a-time · 3 months

Text

I’m having wolfblood thoughts because when Alric said that “you already have an alpha” and Rhydian doesn’t even have to think before being like “her name is Maddy actually” and that got me thinking about how he is so willing to battle for her at any moment.

His mom says like “the alpha male to her female” in reference to Jana and Rhydian but like… she has to know that he isn’t alpha? He’ll be in charge if he has to but consistently he’s Maddy’s sounding board.

Jana says she thinks he stole the laptop when it goes missing but he literally wouldn’t even consider it unless maddy asked him to or if Maddy had suggested it in passing. Like if Maddy had SUGGESTED “hey we could take it to show Shannon how easy she could lose it and expose our secret like just hide it” she could even backtrack but if Maddy is spitballing Rhydian would probably have done it and handed it to her like “you said maybe this was a good idea :))”

If they’d started dating sooner I guarantee a regular occurrence would have been

Maddy: wow the flowers are so pretty this time of year

Rhydian already holding a Massive bouquet of handpicked flowers: definitely for sure haha :)

This boy doesn’t Actually want to be in charge he’s the muscle. He’s Maddy’s rubber duck with a machine gun. This boy is so second in command coded, half the time all Maddy has to say is “Rhydian!!” And he flies off the handle. And the whole time Maddy is stressed that he has feelings for Jana he’s like I am growing Maddy’s pack! Make Maddy stronger. I am a very GoodBoy :)

When things go wrong the First thing he does is look at Maddy for orders. And she usually gives them. God I WISH we’d gotten more of them after season 3.

#wolfblood #maddy smith #rhydian morris #like he’d definitely bitch about it but he Will do anything she says just like annoyed about it

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ugh-yoongi · 9 months

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I haven't seen anybody write out Hobi being a librarian and I think that'd be soo cute! Sweet Hobi all smitten on a regular reader, and of course, they're a regular for a reason, but both are too nervous and self-conscious to act on any of their desires.

oh, this is so soft, i love this so much. thank you for sending it in! i hope you enjoy. <3

we're celebrating jess's birthday! hobi hours are: OPEN.

low key, no pressure

pairing: hoseok x reader (no pronouns used) genre: mutual pining, librarian au; fluff warnings: swearing, hobi being a cute disaster, this is kind of idiots to lovers but since the lovers development is implied i didn't tag it that way but just know it's there ok, taehyung is a shithead, mostly unedited. rating: e for everyone wordcount: 1.6k

Hoseok is a little misguided, is the thing.

What counts is that he has good intentions, even if they don’t hold up under closer examination. But he’s sort of a disaster of a human, so he takes Taehyung’s ribbing on the chin and forges ahead with his plan.

All because he doesn’t know how to talk to you.

He knows your favorite book because you check it out at least once a month. He knows your favorite flower because there’s a bouquet of them tattooed so artfully on your arm they look painted on. He knows your name and your address and your phone number because it’s in the system, and he has enough sense not to do anything with them.

“You could just—and I’m just spitballing here—say hello.”

Hoseok frowns. “I say hello every time…?”

Taehyung is a year younger, so it feels weird to disappoint him. Settles in his stomach all funny, like he’s doing something wrong but can’t figure out what it is. “That’s not—” Taehyung sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose. “Are you always like this? Like, this is your baseline?”

“I’m not following.”

“Clearly,” Taehyung mutters. He looks good today, Hoseok thinks. Looks like he’d woken up and put actual effort into his appearance. Looks like the summer has favorites. Doesn’t at all look like he’s on the verge of a mental break, which is more than Hoseok can say about himself. “Hyung, I’m going to ask this point-blank—”

“Maybe don’t? I’m fragile.”

“—Do you know how to flirt?”

Hoseok scoffs, all instinct. Of course he knows how to flirt. He’d flirted his way through undergrad and then grad school with great success. He flirts with the grumpy IT guy the city sends over, just because it’s funny to watch his cheeks turn a shade of red he’d previously thought was impossible. Hell, he flirts with stupidity every single day, so who is Kim Taehyung to ask him such a thing?

“Don’t ask silly questions, Taehyungie.”

“So you’re saying you do?”

Hoseok rolls his eyes. “Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”

“Okay,” Taehyung shrugs, and Hoseok sighs in relief, glad that particular interrogation is over. “Flirt with me, then.”

And then he’s choking on his tea, expensive cashmere sweater now soiled with half a cup of honey vanilla chamomile. “You asshole,” he wheezes, barely able to get the words out before his throat constricts again, warning him of another impending coughing fit. “My sister bought me this sweater.”

“Noona has great taste,” comes Taehyung’s easy reply, paying no mind to Hoseok at all, “which is to be expected, of course. Now, please flirt with me once you’ve recovered.”

“Why?” Hoseok snaps, because the way he’s blotting at his sweater with a soggy napkin is humiliating. He doesn’t even have a change of clothes anymore; had taken his gym bag out of his car a few weeks ago when he’d gotten the flu.

Taehyung sighs again—put-upon, like he’s dealing with an obtuse child. “Because I’m trying to facilitate true love, and I can’t send you into battle unprepared.”

Hoseok just glares. He’s going to have to spend his lunch break running back to his apartment to change.

Right, the plan.

It’s all dependent on you sticking to your routine, which goes like this: every Sunday afternoon, without fail, you swing by the library and make pleasant small talk with Taehyung as you return your books. Taehyung, without fail, asks what you thought of them and recommends new ones accordingly. You always smile and say thank you, and your voice always sounds like church bells.

(“That’s because you want to mar—” “I will fire you if you finish that thought.”)

Hoseok is always conveniently absent during these exchanges, pretending to do paperwork in his office. This is why Taehyung calls him a coward, and that’s probably true, it’s just… Hoseok has talked to you enough times to develop a big fat crush, and that’s not acceptable. He doesn’t even know you; doesn’t want to romanticize you and put you on a pedestal.

Hence the plan.

If he can’t talk to you with words, he’ll do it with books.

It’s genius, regardless of what Taehyung thinks.

But Taehyung is integral to the plan, so Hoseok has to get him on board. “Look, I already put it together, I just need you to… suggest it.”

“You mean be manipulative.”

“It’s not manipulative,” Hoseok argues, sending a glare Taehyung’s way. “It’s no different from you suggesting books any other time.”

“I just don’t understand why you can’t just say hi, I really dig your taste in literature, would you like to grab a coffee sometime? It’s not that hard, hyung, you really don’t need to do all of…” He points at the stack of books Hoseok has assembled. “...This.”

There’s about three seconds before Hoseok explodes, and Taehyung must realize it because he’s throwing his hands up and going fine, fine and helping sort the books.

As annoying as Taehyung can be, he really is a great salesman.

Powerful, too, because Hoseok wouldn’t have lasted a second in your presence. Probably would’ve melted under the warmth of your smile; would’ve withered as soon as you strolled in with your tattoo visible; would’ve fallen to his knees the second you said hello.

Taehyung has done none of those things, which Hoseok knows because he’s standing on a chair, watching from the window in his office. He knows Taehyung can see his face peeking through the blinds, keeps rolling his eyes whenever the two of them make eye contact, but he schools his expression and keeps Hoseok’s secret safe.

“I actually have some special recommendations for you today,” he hears Taehyung say. Watches as he hands over the bundle of paperbacks. “Our lovely head librarian thought you might be interested in these. He picked them out just for you.”

You look taken aback. It sends Hoseok into a panic, wondering if he’d gone too far. Maybe he should’ve listened to Taehyung, after all, but surely a stack of books is less forward and weird than a coffee date? You can just not read the books and return them if they aren’t your thing, but turning someone down face-to-face is much harder.

No, no—Hoseok did the right thing. He has to have faith in the plan.

“Wow,” you reply, a beautiful smile lighting up your face. “These look great. Please tell him I said thank you.”

Taehyung’s smile is not beautiful. It’s greasy and smarmy. “Oh, I most certainly will.”

Taehyungie (11:32am): Can’t make it into work today, hyung Taehyungie (11:32am): I’m super sick Taehyungie (11:32am): Sorry 😉

Hoseok can’t believe what he’s seeing.

Kim Taehyung is a traitor. A treasonist. A miscreant. Another word for a disloyal person who is not only willing to abandon his hyung in his time of need, but is gleeful about it.

What could Hoseok possibly have done in a past life to deserve this?

Doesn’t matter, he decides. This is totally fine. Hoseok’s going to prove Taehyung wrong. He’s going to have a proper conversation with you. He’s going to ask what you thought about the books he’d chosen. He’s going to recommend new ones. He’s going to flirt. He might even ask if you want to grab coffee sometime, and he’s going to relay all of this to Taehyung right before he tells him to go to hell.

Just one small hiccup: he has to survive you first.

You’re surprised to see him, and the way your eyes widen makes Hoseok’s heart skip a beat. God, he’s worse off than he thought. Gets worse when you reach the circulation desk and he can smell your perfume: something soft and earthy that reminds him of a spring breeze. Has his knees shaking, on the verge of buckling beneath him, and it’s only through pure spite that he stays upright.

“Good afternoon,” he says with a small wave.

You smile. “Hi, Hoseok. Haven’t seen you up here in a while.”

“Ah, well, you know. Paperwork.”

You nod, but the jerky motions of your head tell Hoseok you probably don’t do much paperwork at your job. “Yeah, of course. Is Taehyung out today?”

“Yep, took a sick day.” He shouldn’t, but he thinks Taehyung deserves it: “Sent me a text this morning and said it was coming out both ends. Seems bad.” You’re grimacing. Oh god, you’re grimacing. “Anyway! Here for your weekly return?”

Like a switch has been flipped, you scramble into action, reaching into your tote bag to retrieve the books. “I—yeah, sorry, let me just…”

“Sure, take your time. Did you like them?”

“Yes,” you answer, gaze slowly rising to meet his own. There are words clearly biting at the back of your teeth and, like Hoseok has done a million times before, you swallow them. Slowly, you hand over all the books but one. “I especially liked this one.”

The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro. Hoseok had agonized over that one for days, wondering if it was too much, if it’d send the wrong message. Some of the other books were more obvious, but this one was… well. It’s not what was said that’s important, it’s what wasn’t, and Hoseok had concocted that stupid plan because he couldn’t say what he wanted to.

But you’re handing it over with a hesitation that has Hoseok smiling despite himself. “Would you like to hang onto it a little longer?”

“Would that be okay?”

“Of course.” And then, because he’s brave and he doesn’t want to end up like one of Ishiguro’s characters, he takes advantage of a fleeting moment of bravery. “Maybe we could—aish. Would you like to discuss it over coffee sometime? The book, I mean. With me.”

You nod, and your smile is shy. “I would love to.”

#hoseok x reader #bts x reader #jhope x reader #hoseok fluff #hoseok imagine #hoseok fanfic #bts scenarios #bts fanfiction #bts fluff #fic: jess drabbles #jewel answers #jewel writes

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