#i play a game and loose and feel awful. i try a new skill and when im noy immediately good at it i want to kms | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

trashytoastboi · 9 months

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Hello good and generous Senpai!! I hope loadshedding eased by you, as it did by us :) if senpai has a moment to spare.... And would grace us with their amazing writing skills of perhaps a Killer Hard Dom x Reader? 👉👈 Thank you! Keep up the amazing work💖

Aw shucks when senpai calls me senpai it really hits different. You got me feeling all bashful and stuff 🤭 Its been such a long wait and I apologise dearest senpai, hope you enjoy ^^

NSFW Scenario: Hard Dom! Killer x F! Sub! Reader - A Hard Brat to Tame.

(Female Pronouns)

Warning: NSFW {Dom/Sub dynamics, Spanking, Fingering, Oral, Mating Press, Doggy, Punishment, Bondage (kind of), Orgasm Denial, Body Worship.}

Word Count: 3,006 words

🍜 Killer 🍜

“Looks like fun, can I join in?” {Name} mused, her hands perched on the arm of a stranger who dealt the cards for this game. Killer twitched uncomfortably at seeing how close and flirtatious she was acting with a complete stranger. Her smug little glaces accompanied by a smirk told Killer that she knew exactly what she was doing in trying to make him jealous. He had been dealing with her acting like a brat the entire day and struggled immensely to keep his patience and composure even in the face of her obvious provocations. Despite his multiple instances of what some may call mercy, she refused to cease her warpath.

{Name} had complained about being neglected by Killer, it wasn’t the case and she knew it. She delivered the practiced sob story and he could only muster a sigh on every repeat. The real story without any of her choice embellishments is a simple situation of Killer rejecting her advances the previous night because he wanted some well deserved rest. Being the usual brat {Name} is, she expected a snap of her fingers to make Killer pamper and please her. Sometimes he was kind enough to indulge these exorbitant demands, other times he put his foot down and disciplined some sense into her. This was one of those times where she wanted to be pampered, and Killer, who had spent an entire day fighting and running around with the crew trying to keep the peace or letting hell break loose just wanted a rest after.

Killer now suffered {Name’s} ‘wrath’, and her revenge came in the form of taunts, jeers and repetitive prodding. Anything in her arsenal she could use to intentionally irritate him, she used. Now Killer sits, gripping his tankard tightly while seeing {Name} hang on the arms of strangers who obviously ogled her.

Hours passed, and they were back at the ship. The crew sat around some talking, some drinking, others passed out and a few sat around the table trying to master a new gambling game. Killer was the reliable one who remembered all the rules and was teaching the others to play. {Name} sauntered over to the table where Killer was sitting. She asked the table if she could fetch more drinks. Her smile seemed friendly on the surface, yet Killer couldn’t stop his feelings from building. He offered to help her carry the drinks and excused himself from the table. He stops {Name} in her tracks, “Behave yourself.” Killer lowered his voice and sounded threatening. She just smiled at him, whipping around as she strutted back to the table of half drunk pirates.

An utmost act of defiance, she persisted with her disobedience. Finally Killer had enough and his patience snapped. He walks over to the table, “{Name} my room, now.” He demands. She scoffed and ignored him. Killer shook his head, he lifted her easily and threw her over his shoulder, taking long strides through the ship to go towards his cabin. He didn’t care about all the odd or knowing stares that came their way. {Name} kicked up a fuss about being carried like this, of course in her mind she was more than happy to finally get the reaction she wanted out of Killer.

Despite her various complaints and protests, Killer would not relent. He arrived at the last stretch and finally had enough of the bratty attitude. He clicks his tongue. SMACK. He spanked her, hard. A surprised yelp fell from {Name} who seemed so shell shocked at the sudden spank, she settled quietly without any further fuss now seeing how serious Killer is. He typically would have given a warning first, and a little more leeway. Considering the extent of her behavior he realized he had been far too lax.

Killer walked inside his room and kicked the door closed behind him. He set {Name} on her feet and combed his fingers through her hair. “I hope, for your sake, you’ll behave and take your punishment like a good girl.” Killer’s voice sounded sweet, even with the phrasing it was not a hard insistence, he told her to behave and nothing else. Even though her pride wanted to fight against him more, the atmosphere suggested that he would not be messed with any further. {Name} shut her mouth and agreed. Killer smiles slightly under his mask, “Take your clothes off and have a seat on the bed.” He instructed. She did as she was told and looked up at Killer, he looked down at her both in the figurative and literal sense. The way he towered over her made him seem so daunting and intimidating.

Internally she cheered seeing how commanding and straightforward Killer is acting, he may have called it punishment but he is giving her exactly what she wanted. Oh poor {Name}, she is so very mistaken. Killer cradled her face with his hands lovingly, before moving them down to her neck, “Is this what you wanted? Me to touch you?” He probed for an answer. “Yes, I want it.” {Name} responded quickly, enjoying the light touches of his hands on her body, he pulled away abruptly. “Then touch yourself.” He snickers.

{Name’s} eyes widened, “But-” his hands cupped her face again. A warning. “Just be good and listen.” She shook her head “I don’t want to!”

Killer sighed, still to the bitter end she would not relent. “If we were doing what you wanted, it wouldn’t be a punishment then.” {Name} could see he had no intention of budging. “Fine…” she muttered. Killer takes a seat in front of the bed, “Come on little one, you have to spread your legs more.” She shuts them, {Name} didn’t want to waste time on punishments she wanted what she wanted and unless Killer was giving that to her, she refused everything else.

“Even now you won’t listen. I thought you were going to take your punishment like a good girl.” Killer is disappointed, {Name} walks over to him “I’ll be good, I promise.” Bold words considering she disobeyed him not even a minute earlier. Killer switches the situation and bends her over his lap. “Since you can’t be trusted to do it right, I will do it myself.” The palm of his hand rubs her back, drifting down to her ass and the backs of her thighs. He just runs his hands along the skin. “Do you know what you did wrong?” Killer asks sternly. {Name} takes a moment to think, “I was bad…” SLAP. The first hit lands, the sound resonates in the room and she yelps with the sudden sting. Killer keeps a firm grip to prevent her from squirming out of his grasp.

“So you are aware that your behavior was unacceptable?” He asks, met by silence in her stead. “Tell me exactly what you did wrong.” His hand soothes the previous smack, “I was flirting with other people.” SLAP. “What else?” {Name} tries to steady her trembling voice. “I was rude and disrespectful towards you.” SLAP. “I didn’t listen to instructions” SLAP. “I didn’t accept m-my first punishment.” SLAP. {Name} starts crying from the relentless stinging that barely had a moment to recover before the next smack landed, harder than the last. She stopped listing off her misbehavior, “There is one more baby.” Killer informs her, she panics slightly “I don’t know…”

“You have yet to apologize.” He states coldly, “I’m sorry sir…” SLAP. “You will be sorry baby.”

He ceases the spanking, soothing over the heated skin with his hand. “Is my punishment over now?” she asks softly, with a hint of hope in her voice. Killer sits her up and wipes away {Name’s} tears, “You’re not allowed to be a brat then cry about it.” His voice held no sympathy for her plight. “Oh my pretty baby, what a misunderstanding. How can this be a punishment when you enjoy it so much?”

{Name} flinched at his words. “So this is what we are going to do.” Killer picks her up and lays her down on the bed, he removes his mask and sets it down on the bedside table. He lifts her hands and pins them above her head. Killer lets go, which surprised {Name}. She awaited the ropes, the cuffs, or something. There was nothing. She is evidently confused by his actions, he only chuckled at her expression. “You are going to stay very still. You are not going to move. While you sit still, I am going to touch you, in all the ways you like. If I find your behavior to my satisfaction I might let you cum. Is that clear?”

“Yes sir…” {Name} meekly replied, Killer could see how subdued she was, “Now, that’s a good girl.” he hummed with approval. {Name} sighed a little, now finally accepting that this really isn't going to go her way. As if the remnant stinging on her ass wasn’t enough to make her realize. Killer practically saw the moment she decided to give up and just obey him. Killer rubs his thumb against her lips, running down to her chin, then wrapping his hand around her throat while he gives her a curt kiss.

His hand continues further down, giving a firm squeeze to her tits, and chuckling as he hears that soft gasp when he pinches and pulls her nipples. His lips place kisses on her neck, as he sinks his teeth in. Leaving a trail of marks down to her tits, he replaces his fingers with his mouth. Her whimpers and little moans are music to his ears. His hands held her waist, firmly “So pretty.” He murmurs, kissing down her navel. Killer gripped her thighs and pulled them apart, he shuffled lower and sank his teeth into her thigh. {Name} twitched and raised her arms slightly, Killer flashed a sharp glare in her direction and she instantly dropped her hands back to their spot.

Killer smirked seeing how wet she was already for him, “And here you said you hated punishments.” He said in such a condescending tone that caused {Name] to feel utterly embarrassed as she averted her gaze from his. “No. Keep your eyes on me.” {Name} looked back towards Killer who held that devious look in his eyes. He licked his lips, he knew what he had planned for her. He flattened his tongue giving one long lick against her slit, {Name} jolted, it wasn’t enough for her and he knew it. But he is determined to relentlessly drive her mad. His tongue alternated between delicate kitten licks and wide laps against her, occasionally taking his time to softly nudge and suckle on her clit. Her voice grew louder with each movement, he could tell {Name} was desperate and getting closer. “Hmm, getting a little close there baby?” He chuckled. {Name} nodded frantically. She wanted to grab his head and pull his hair but she stayed as he instructed her too. “Sir…!” She huffed, on the edge of approaching bliss, her legs began to shake as the build up was finally going to reach its perfect climax…It all disappeared. Killer pulled away, leaving her utterly high and dry. “What…?” {Name} looked shocked, “Why’d you stop!?” She whined. Killer smiled, feigning an innocent expression. “Oh? Were you expecting something?”

He lifted his hand to her mouth, “Open up.”, she obeyed. He slowly slid two of his fingers into her mouth, feeling the warmth and wetness it had to offer as he felt her sucking his digits and still glaring with discontent. “Since you look so miserable, I’ll give you something else.” Killer pulled his fingers from her mouth. He smiled, and leaned down for a kiss, the moment his lips met hers he slid his fingers inside. The sweet gasping moan that stifled from the kiss was a reward in itself.

Killer slid his fingers in and out, moving them with a practiced precision that had {Name} whining and begging. She moved her hips wanting to feel more. “So greedy.” Killer commented, keeping his constant pace exactly the way she wanted it. “Please, don’t stop.” {Name} begged, knowing that he was planning to keep bringing her to the edge without satisfaction. Killer didn’t make any jeering commentary otherwise and she believed that maybe he would be merciful, she allowed herself to enjoy every moment. Her head leaned back, {Name} felt that familiar pleasure inching closer, the high that built up once again. So very close, and in another disappointing instant, all gone.

“No…no…” she babbled over again. Killer shrugged in response, she felt the anger getting to her. “Such a bastard” {Name} muttered under her breath. Killer chuckled, “Well you only have yourself to blame.” He pulled her down and closer to him, readjusting their position and throwing her legs over his shoulders. He gave his cock a few strokes while watching her impatience grow, {Name] was truly weak to her desires. He slowly, forcefully began to push inside her, making sure he could get as deep as she could take.

That burning stretch as he inched further inside drove her wild, {Name} wanted to grab him and pull him closer but she stayed conscious of keeping her hands and arms in the imaginary bondage. He kept a languid pace, going in deep and dragging out making sure she felt every little thing. Full well knowing she was already sensitive from being worked up without release. “Faster please” {Name} moaned, Killer shook his head. “No baby, just be patient while I enjoy myself.” Killer grunted between his words. “Sir please, I can’t please.” she sobbed. “Shhh baby, just behave.” Even if she wanted it faster, the build up eventually became noticeable. Her begging subsided as she got closer, tears began to well up and fall from the frustration. Just needing any form of release, Killer kept his slow pace and the moment he felt her getting close, he pulled out and laughed at her outburst of being upset. {Name} whines but still keeps her arms in place, Killer could appreciate her obedience even in the height of her discontent. “You’re behaving so well baby, just a little more and I'll give you a reward, alright?” Killer spoke so sweetly, {Name} just nodded strung along on every word.

Killer’s hand cradles her face, he shows somewhat of a relieved smile when he thinks that {Name} finally learned her lesson, punishment is effective but reward is even more so. Killer slid his cock back inside listening to her relieved sigh. {Name} eagerly waited for him to start moving but he stayed still. Killer leaned down and began kissing her neck, his thumb rubs small circles on her clit and she moans. The sensitivity played in his favour. She babbles incoherently about how close she is. {Name} doesn’t even beg for it, she anticipated further disappointment. Killer doesn’t stop even when her hips start bucking against him trying to feel more. {Name’s} vision blanks for a second as her climax hits hard, leaving her a shaking mess from her desperately earned release. “There we go…” Killer hums happily, it only took one orgasm to have her so fucked out, although he didn’t count all the ones he previously denied.

{Name} mumbled her thank you’s over and over again, Killer flips her over and pulls her onto all fours. “Now that your punishment is over, I can really enjoy myself.” He thrusts back into her hard, practically leaving {Name} breathless, he slams into her repeatedly holding nothing back. Her body gives in and she collapses to the bed. “No baby, too early to give out on me.” Killer pulls her hips back and holds her steady as he relentlessly fucks into her. “Wait-!” {Name} whines, still recovering from her previous orgasm as another approaches quickly. Killer kisses her shoulder, his thrusts are accentuated by his grunts and strained voice “Give me another baby, you can do it.” {Name} could barely think, just feeling every harsh thrust that drove her mind even more blank.

Her hands weakly clutched at the bed, SLAP. Killer spanked her, the surprise sent her over the edge and once again she came undone. Killer chuckled at the pathetic display of how easily he could toy with her body. His hand pushed her body down to the bed as he held her in place, his own release building. He shut his eyes and just focused on thrusting as hard as he could. “Fuck!” He exclaimed through gritted teeth as he came inside her, holding her still while he filled her up. Killer needed a moment to find feeling in his body again, he tried to catch his breath as he finally let go of her hips and laid down next to her.

Both had a moment to gather themselves when Killer pulls {Name} close and kisses her on the forehead, his thumb wipes away the remnant tears. Moving to comb his fingers through her hair. “Are you alright?” His voice asked, barely above a whisper. She nods and nuzzles into his touch. “It wasn’t too much was it?”, she shakes her head. “‘I’m sorry for how I acted.” {Name} uttered a sincere apology realizing that even if it had been a prerequisite to a scene, there were still limitations that she shouldn’t have pushed as hard. Killer kisses her softly, before sitting up and taking some time to address all of the little bruises and marks. He is firm, and often gets rough but is constantly aware of how much {Name} could take. She shifted and plopped her head into his lap while looking at Killer, He flashed a gentle smile that she had gotten used to seeing, and feeling it a treasured secret and many others probably never had the pleasure of seeing it. His fingers ran through her hair and {Name} could feel herself drifting further into a strange asleep yet not quite asleep state, listening to all the loving affirmations Killer muttered while believing she had already fallen asleep.

#one piece #killer #killer one piece #trashytoastboi #unholy toast #female reader #female pronouns #one piece scenario #one piece imagines #one piece headcanon #fluff #lemon #smut #ns.fw #killer x reader

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kinetic-elaboration · 2 years

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June 14: Orphan Black 5x09

Watched the penultimate episode of OB tonight. It wasn’t my favorite of the season, but solid. I really loved Rachel and Sarah in it--Rachel because I like this role she’s slipped into of helping the other clones but still seeming... kinda set apart from them, and Sarah because I love a good Sarah-caper, and she did an excellent job of being a really creepy Rachel. (Also in a way I felt like she was protecting Rachel in that scene, because Westmoreland was saying awful things to her, but Rachel never had to hear them because Sarah was filling in for her.)

But I felt like the real MVPs of the episode were the side characters. Art, Scott, Hell Wizard, and Felix all had really great moments. I literally went DAMN ART when he shot Frontenac or whoever that dude was. And Scott power walking the “live organ” into Dyad was Classic. I love that Hell Wizard is still here and truly part of the gang. And honestly, I loved that they were both implied to be “S’s people” given their presence at the funeral. Felix also got to show off both his badassery with Art but also his softer skills: he’s CLEARLY the one holding the family together after S’s death.

Aside from Rachel and Sarah, and of course Helena, there really wasn’t much for the clones to do. So in a sense I felt like this was a final hurrah for a lot of the side characters who I can only assume will be less important than the clones in the finale-finale.

And yes, this was Helena’s story, clearly. But tbh I didn’t really feel like I learned anything new about her today. It was odd that younger-Helena was played by a different actress (because they needed her to speak Ukrainian?). The scene where she killed the clone in the church was definitely striking: the horror of staring into her own face as it dies, and at the same moment becoming a monster, in two senses: a murderer, and the thing that is deserving of murder. But overall, it felt... kinda like unnecessary exposition this late in the game. Like an apology for barely using her this season lol.

I’m still upset about S’s death. The conversation with Sarah and Art made it seem like she did die as a “sacrifice” to the cause, but like, she really didn’t? She contributed greatly to the big W that was leaking the documents, and then after that she died in an act of basically senseless violence. Idk if they’re trying to retcon it or if they themselves didn’t get that what they claim to portray is not what they portrayed. At any rate, her death was just too sad and I cried through the whole funeral scene. Didn’t need that.

This ep felt like cleaning house to a degree. Like did Mark really NEED to die or did the show just not have a need for him anymore? That scene was very sad and very well done--and I do like how it underscores Helena’s point that Coady, for all her bravado, is just a serf to this dumbass man--she does whatever he says, even if it means killing her own child, and he’s out there doing nothing but exploiting the minds, bodies, and souls of every woman around him. Nevertheless, RIP Mark, because I liked him and Gracie a lot, and traitors or no, I wanted a happy ending for them.

Similarly, while Coady definitely DID need to die, when she did I was like, ‘yep, crossing that one off the list.’

Only one more episode left, which is wild. I predict it will be good but not the best over: it’s going to have to tie up loose ends, and then show everyone’s cutesy endings, and it’s obviously going to end with some kinda Adorable Voice Over from Helena, which is maybe not my favorite concept. But a happy ending is a happy ending.

#the year 2022 #2022: fandom thoughts #2022: orphan black

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seraphimsinful · 3 years

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I also just feel stupid and ridiculous rn

#i cant play things competitively without it destroying my mood if i do poorlu #i cant do anything right #i play a game and loose and feel awful. i try a new skill and when im noy immediately good at it i want to kms #i hate feeling this way #its so annoying and i know it doesny matter i know things r hust a game but sometimes i feel so so fucking small and fragile and like if i #dont prove my worth somehow then im useless.#idkkkk idk im tired and just :(#i wanna either be beaten up and left bloody n bruised or held and pet and told its fine #either way i need to be compressed and tucked away #but at the same time laying under my covers and crying about this does Nothing

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

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~ MLB Curious Gazes ~

prompt: four different situations where people have run into or hung out with MLB!H - told from their perspective.

word: 6k +

warnings: language, mentions of sexual content

If you enjoyed this please - reblog, like, recommend, comment, and inbox me to chat about it!

please consider donating to my kofi - my work is FREE and it is a great way to show support!

enjoy!

-=-=-=-=-=-

The Doctor’s Office

Aubrey couldn’t believe her eyes as she sat in her uncomfortable, too small chair in the empty waiting room at the OBGYN office in the early hours of the morning.

She was sitting alone with her baby boy sitting in his carrier on the floor - it was his nine month checkup and it was taking forever to be seen.

The woman was sitting, scrolling on her phone when out of her peripheral she saw an extremely - like extremely handsome man step into the area with a carrier.

Aubrey was a married woman but holy shit this guy was hot- without even trying is the thing.

He had on a New York Yankees Nike hoodie and a pair of Nike athletic shorts with some calf length Blake Nike socks and trainers.

In the carrier was a fresh little baby, couldn’t be older than three months who was bundled up with a sunflower headband on.

The man was multitasking with a curly haired toddler on his other hip as he finds a seat a little bit down from Aubrey on the opposite side.

His wife was standing up at the check-in and of course it made sense that she was absolutely beautiful as well even though Aubrey could relate to how tired she looked.

The woman still had a small bit of her pregnancy bump left signifying that the baby was indeed very very new to the world.

She keeps glancing over at the man, he looks so familiar but she would remember if she had even met someone that handsome.

Then the context clues hit her, his hoodie, his toddler son was also in a little Yankees hoodie that matched his fathers and Aubrey googled quickly.

Her eyes flitted throughout the recent articles.

Styles’ Alleged $65 Million Dollar Bonus

Hot Head Harry Styles - how he managed to start three bench clearing brawls in one game!

Breaking Records and Bats - Styles manages to break his own record in the same season followed by breaking a bat in celebration

Holy shit.

She could help but watch them - this was much more interesting than reading a magazine.

Aubrey didn’t follow baseball but Harry had turned celebrity status and was this well known cocky dickhead to the media - women and men loved and drooled over him for his looks and his skills.

Right now, he sat down with his two babies - the boy looked exactly like Harry, it was quite unbelievable from the curly locks to mossy green eyes that was copy and paste.

Harry was currently tucking an applesauce pouch between his lips and guiding the boy's small hands to hold it for himself.

“Good job, ,” He murmurs in the dead quiet waiting room as he tucks him further into the crook of his arm.

Harry looks up to his wife who joins them, she is a bit in awe when Aubrey sees him palm a bit at her bloated belly and whisper, “Y’look gorgeous today, mama.”

Aubrey couldn’t help but frown, she wished her husband did that.

YN sits down, leaning her head on his shoulder - Aubrey didn’t know her but she seems tired - of course she was a new mother.

The silence is broken when a nurse comes out and with an apologetic face says, “I’m sorry, we are running really behind today. It might be another thirty minutes,” before shutting the door again.

Harry kisses his wife’s forehead before wrapping his unoccupied arm around her shoulder, a flashing gold band on his ring finger.

Aubrey zones off for a little when her son wakes up, rocking the carrier a few times before he settles again.

She’s brought back to the couple when she hears a sniffle comes from Harry’s wife and his face turned towards hers, hand rubbing her shoulder reassuringly.

“Mama, she’s so healthy. There’s nothin’ to worry about, did a perfect job growing her in y’belly. I know these check-ups make you anxious but nothin’ is gonna be wrong,” He soothes, a near whisper because of how quiet the room is and he didn’t want to disrupt.

“I just don’t know if she’s been getting enough milk, it’s so hard to tell,” YN replies sadly, like she’s disappointed in herself.

“Y’kidding me? She’s our chunkiest baby - look at those little rolls. She’s on y’tits more than any of the boys including me,” He jokes softly, obviously trying to make her feel better.

It seems to work a little bit because she lets out a light giggle with a roll of her eyes, “No one is on them more than you.”

Harry shrugs unashamed before replying seriously, “Everything will be okay. She’s perfect and healthy.”

The curly haired little boy gets a bit squirmy with the wait after he finished his pouch, asking to be set down which his father does.

Harry is watching him carefully, his nervous but still adventurous little two and a half year old, as he toddles around the waiting room.

When he spots Aubrey and her carrier, he wanders over looking up her with wide curious eyes, he points at her son and squeaks, “Baby?”

Ever the diligent father, Harry is up and next to his son, Aubrey is a bit starstruck if she’s honest when he talks to her.

“M’sorry, he’s a curious little one,” Harry smiles at her, going to pick Ezra back up to guide him away from bothering her.

Aubrey waves her hand though, lifting the visor to show the sleeping baby, “Yeah, he’s a baby. That’s Dominic.”

The boy gazes at the baby before lisping, “Bry!”

Aubrey isn’t sure what he means but his father clarifies, “You’re right, Dominic is a baby just like your little sister Briar.”

“Okay,” Ezra shrugs and goes back to his mom to inform him of what he just discovered before crawling up and cuddling into her chest.

Harry nods, “Thanks for indulging him.”

“No pro-problem,” She stutters like an idiot and Harry smiles a bit like he knows but doesn’t say anything else before going back to his family.

A few minutes later when a high-pitched cry resounds through the room, Harry is carefully cradling his daughter who Aubrey notes looks nothing like him but like her mother even though her features were still so little.

“Shush, darlin’,” Harry coos with a soft drawl, leaning in to kiss at the newborn’s button nose.

Briar roots at her father’s chest, smacking her plump lips, and squeaking in frustration when she doesn’t find a nipple. It makes Harry chuckle before he glances at his wife and his smile falters a bit, “Sweetheart, did y’bring a bottle?”

Aubrey watches his wife shake her head, she is facing away from her so she can’t see her expression but gauging Harry’s it seems that she may be upset, “No, I completely forgot. I didn’t bring my nursing blanket either - I’m going to have to go the bathroom. M’being such a bad mom.”

The observer feels a pang in her chest, she can definitely relate to not always feeling like she is a good mother because of little mistakes she makes like forgetting diapers, buying the wrong formula, forgetting to bring a pacifier.

“Hey,” Harry’s voice is firm, “Y’not going to talk like that when s’the farthest thing from the truth. S’okay, we have four babies, we’re both goin’ t’forget things sometimes, okay? Here, let me help you.”

Aubrey wishes she had a husband who was as empowering, supportive of his wife.

He hands the whimpering baby over to his wife, he’s then tugging off his hoodie. Aubrey tries but fails to divert her eyes when his shirt rides up revealing a glimpse of his taut abdomen and a light dusting of hair leading into his shorts, obscene tattoos covering his hipbones .

Harry maneuvers the hoodie over his wife’s shoulder, helping her tug down her loose shirt and nursing bra, and guiding his newborn to his wife’s breast until she latches and starts suckling hungrily.

“There y’go mama,” He whispers encouragingly before tugging Ezra back onto his lap to rock him a bit as he’s getting whiny - ready for a nap soon and not liking being in an unfamiliar place for too long.

Aubrey is buckling Dominic into his carseat when she spots the other family exiting the office.

Harry’s wife looks much more relaxed, a smile on her face, and her arm tucked around her husband’s narrow hip, they’re parked close to each other, and Aubrey climbs into her small sedan - blasting the aircon.

She watches the parents strapp their kids into a massive, tinted and brand new cadillac escalade that was no doubt over a hundred thousand dollar car but who could expect them to be driving around a mid-level minivan?

After the kids are secured and they close the doors, Harry presses his wife up against it with his arm resting over her shoulder against the window. He is whispering to her, their mouths close before he ducks down to connect their lips.

His hand comes back to her deflating baby bump like he did in the doctor’s office, hand massaging the skin with adoration that was visible even to Aubrey as she sat in her car watching them.

Later on in the week, as she sits on her couch, a video pops up on her timeline. It’s a sports report she was about to skip until the name caught her attention.

The sports reporter stated, “Harry Styles was fined an alleged sixty thousand dollars at last night’s game after getting into a verbal altercation when the second base man purposely tripped him.”

It flashes to the man she just saw in the doctor’s office in a form-fitting Yankee’s blue and white striped uniform with a helmet on as he ran at an impressive speed from first to second, stumbling when the baseman put out his foot.

Harry recovers quickly enough to touch the base to be considered safe.

After that though, he’s pushing himself up and brushing off the dirt, then he’s charging towards the man who fucked up the play.

He has no fear as he gets in the man’s face, veins on his neck standing out as he shouts. They don’t play the audio but you could tell Harry was cussing this man up and down.

It flashed back to the reporter speaking to another, “Nearly every team in the league reports that Styles is an absolute nightmare to play against from his skill to his downright arrogant and cocky attitude. He’s not someone I’d find myself wanting to hang around.”

“I agree with you there, Tucker. He has a right to be proud with all of his broken records and achievements but being a bit humble would do this man so good. I feel sorry for his wife and kids. He probably just spends all day bragging about himself.”

Aubrey clicks off the video, if only everyone in the world just saw the Harry Styles she saw just a few days ago - well they’d all change their minds on what kind of person he is. Especially what kind of husband and father.

The Charity Event

It was a charity event at Madison Square Garden in Time Square.

It was for all Major League Baseball teams who had qualified for the playoffs and of course, The New York Yankees were there.

There were tables filling the whole stadium, extravagant in white linen tablecloths, multiple bars, and it was black tie dress code.

It was a private event and it was not open to the public but after the dinner there would be awards given out and that would be broadcasted.

Nicole was there with her husband, Trent, the left outfielder with an average batting score. He wasn’t the most popular on the team by far - well everyone got outshined by Styles.

She couldn’t help but be a little bitter that Harry had gotten a $60 million dollar bonus (the biggest bonus ever gifted but also the Yankees were not taking any chances at losing their star and their ultimate money-maker). Trent got a measly bonus of $100,000 which was nothing in baseball terms.

The wives and girlfriends of the Yankees players did not like YN one bit. It really wasn’t fair because she was always lovely, kind, and friendly. It didn’t matter because they were all spurred on by jealousy of what she had.

Nicole couldn’t help by gaze at Harry as they sat at the same circle table towards the podium where the awards would be presented after dinner. He was in a sharp all black suit with a small team logo pin of the lapel.

She couldn’t deny how stunning YN looked in an absolutely stunning dress. It was a one-shoulder with sparkling black stripes against a tan background, it fit like a glove and accentuated her stunning legs with a high slit. ***

It blew Nicole’s basic black Gucci dress out of the water which made her even more infuriated at the woman. She knew she was being irrational and if she hated her so much, why couldn’t see stop staring at the couple?

Nicole could get away with it by looking past them at other tables but to be quite honest, the two were much too wrapped up in each other to be aware of any of their surroundings or people watching them.

Trent was off bullshitting with all the other players while the Styles’ sat at the table and Harry waited for people to approach him - like the cocky asshole that he was. He would give them a minute of his time before becoming visibly bored and returning his attention back to his wife.

As the appetizers arrived, Trent finally sat down with a grunt, giving his wife literally no attention as he dug into the salad like a slob.

Across the table, Harry looked down at his plate, picked out all the tomatoes and stabbed them with his fork. He then brought his hand over to his wife who giggled and let him feed her the three little tomatoes for his salad.

“Don’t like tomatoes, Styles?” Henry, third-baseman, jokes as he watches him feed his wife without any shame.

“I love ‘em, m’missus just really like the little grape ones,” Harry shrugs casually - like that didn’t just sound like the most whipped thing that he could say.

Trent probably couldn’t even guess Nicole’s favorite color - let alone know something so minuscule like YN like the little tomatoes that come on house salads.

Throughout the whole dinner, it was quite disgusting how infatuated these two were with each other - Harry had at least one hand on her body at one time - her thigh, shoulder, even cupping her neck in a way that was almost too intimate for the setting.

At one point, Harry notices that YN is a bit quiet - sipping on her glass of water and he pulls back from the conversation, murmuring, “Y’alright, mama?”

Nicole bites her lip hard at the cute pet name, feeling even more dislike towards YN - why couldn’t she have had someone like Harry?

“D’you think the babies are okay? Ezra’s been so anxious lately,” YN replies quietly, there were no phones allowed at the event and had to be left at home or at the door.

Harry kisses her temple, “Y’know Ezzie is good with m’mum, doesn’t get as anxious as he used to at sleepovers. Y’know East and Cash are probably on a sugar high.”

YN nods, agreeing and Harry jumps right back into the conversation but she notices that he keeps looking over at his wife to check on her.

Trent accidentally knocks her elbow hard and just grunts out a bland, “Sorry.”

The topic changed to traveling for games. Ellie, another wife of a player who was nice to YN were chatting about how stressful it is.

“I know, loading all three boys up is rough when we do decide to travel to games with H,” YN says to Ellie, a small smile on her face.

“Ugh, I know. Lily and Parker are the worst flyers! They usually end up throwing up or not being able to nap at all,” Ellie groans about her two little ones she has back at home.

YN let’s out a laugh that just irked Nicole to not end.

“It's going to be even harder when we have more kids,” YN laments like she’s bothered.

“Oh? More kids?” Ellie squeaks with excitement, clapping her hands together.

Nicole reaches a breaking point, jumping into the chat,“Really? More kids? Don’t you think you should focus on the ones you have? Or do you think because your husband makes an unfair amount of money, you can just have as many as you want? Hire nannies and act like you take care of them?”

Before YN frowns, about to respond when Harry interjects with a booming, displeased voice, “First off, why don’t y’mind your own fuckin’ business. My wife and I can ‘ave any many kids as we want, last time I checked.”

He continues with tense posture, all of his previous calmness disappears, “Second off, don’t take it out on my wife tha’ your husband got a shit bonus, we all know tha’ why y’pissy. And don’t act like y’dont have a nanny for your one kid while we don’t nor ever will have one.”

Nicole sneers, “You’re a cocky bastard.”

Harry smiles in faux charm, “Of course I am, dear. I’ve got a fucking beautiful wife, three healthy babies, the most records broken in history, and the fattest bank account in this room.”

“Alright, alright,” Trent interrupts and it doesn’t go unnoticed that he doesn’t defend his wife. Instead he shoots Harry an apologetic look for his wife’s behaviors.

Harry just scoffs at the couple, rudely rolling his eyes, and tugging his wife in for a kiss that’s a bit too intense but he can’t help himself, smiles against her lips when his wife pinches his thigh playfully.

He says (not quietly at all), “All these women are jealous of you, hm? S’cause you’re so beautiful and such a fuckin’ catch.”

Nicole feel a sharp pang in her chest at the indirect comment - fucking asshole.

Deep down, Nicole is unfavorably realizing that somehow YN has it all - a loving husband, who is seemingly head over heels four her, three well-behaved children, and everything she could ever want - sitting on Harry’s $600 million dollar net worth, on top of being gorgeous.

She didn’t have that. Trent and her were on the rocks constantly, has definitely cheated on her, their kid is a literal nightmare, and they’re both so reckless with money they have no savings.

It made her jealous to see Harry whispering in YN ear to make her giggle- lips brushing her ear, his hand splayed across her bumcheek while they waited for drinks at the bar, she even hears them murmur ‘I love yous’ at least twice.

Then the lights dim, spotlight on a podium in the front of the room, an older man in a crisp navy suit taking the stage.

“It is an honor for me to announce ‘Player of the Year.’ The decision by the board of Major League Baseball wasn’t a hard one. The statistics and records broke continuously by the man has led us to only one option.”

Everyone watches all the other players in room deflate a bit because they realize the award is going to Harry yet again.

“He is again breaking a record tonight, he is the first player to earn this achievement four years in a row. The duality of this man when it comes to pitching a curveball or hitting a homer is truly remarkable.”

It makes all the players even more irritated than they already are when they look over at Harry who’s sitting back, manspreading, hand on the back of his wife’s neck gently, and a cocky, unbothered grin.

Like this award wasn’t the biggest accomplishment he could earn.

One of the players from an opposing team at a different table mutters to one of his teammates, “Fucking arrogant asshole. The only thing this award does is feed his gigantic ego.”

“Such a douchebag,” The other agrees, jealousy tinges his voice.

“I’ve most likely made it obvious who the the recipient is this year. The New York Yankees pitcher with the most strikeouts to date and top-scoring hitter - Mr. Harry Styles!”

The crowd erupts in applause, whistles, and a standing ovation because despite his unsavory demeanor - no one could deny he was a legend.

Before he gets up, Nicole watches as he cups his wife’s cheek - locking her lips in a kiss before she has to give him a playful shove when he tries to slip some tongue.

When Harry gets up to the stage, he shakes the hand of the announcer and takes the award from him, setting it on the podium.

“Fourth year in a row has a nice ring to it,” Harry gives the crowd a dazzling white smile that have his dimples digging into his cheek.

The crowd whistles and coos.

Nicole notices YN getting teary-eyed as she watches her husband accept the award.

“I want t’thank a few people tonight. I want t’thank m’wife and the mama of my babies - YN. She’s supported me from when I was in college with no other career path but baseball, unsure of if I’d fail or not, she stuck through it.”

She can sense everyone’s eyes dart over to YN who is still staring up at her husband - who is giving her a gleaming smile right back.

“We’ve been through some really hard obstacles in our first years as a couple but she’s the reason for all this - the fact that she always believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself.”

The audience is respectful, quiet as he publicly tells a story of his deep love for his wife.

“I want t’thank m’three babies. Easton, Cash, and Ezra. They inspire me to be a better better man and a good role model - even though I think y’all agree they won’t be if they watch too much how I play when I’m out in the field.”

The crowd erupts in laughter at Harry poking fun at his own antics that he’s most famous for. He goes on to thank the team, coaches, Nike, everyone on the professional side of career.

When he’s done, everyone stands back up to congratulate him, patting him on the back as he returns to his seat.

Nicole watches as Harry sits back down, chuckling as he swipes a tear off his wife’s cheek, “Why y’crying, mama?”

“I’m just so proud of you. Everything you do for me and our babies. The best husband, best daddy. My heart is just full,” She murmurs, clearly not meant for others to hear but Nicole was eavesdropping.

Harry’s eyes darken with something Nicole can’t identify but does notice his hand creeping a bit further up her thigh.

He leans into whisper something into her ear before she sees his lightly nip at her lobe before pulling back to join into the conversation.

After the lights come back up, Trent abandons her to go shoot the shit with other guys.

When she trails off to the bathroom, down a long hallway from the main area - she hears a rustling from behind a door labeled with a plaque that says ‘executive meeting room’.

Nicole pauses confused, all these offices and other rooms were strictly off limits during events obviously. She was confused to hear someone in a room that was not supposed to be in use.

Then she realizes it’s not just someone - it’s two people.

“S’good, sweetheart. Give it t’me so good.”

And she knows right then and there all she needs to know about who’s in that conference room and what they were doing.

“Be quiet, you’re being too loud,” YN scolds back, the walls were clearly thin because she could hear the exchange.

“Make y’cunt not feel like heaven then,” He remarks back, his voice slower and more soft than it would be in front of people.

God, Trent and her haven’t slept together in ages - let alone has spontaneous hookups or dirty talk like that ever.

When they all end up back at the table before the closing speech for the night, Nicole spots a nicely sized mark under Harry’s jaw that he’s wearing with pride.

YN had her lipstick wiped off and was much more clingy as the night rolled on which Harry seemed to thrive on.

As she and Trent are on their way home, Nicole speaks into their silence, “I don’t think our relationship is working.”

Not after she saw love and happiness at that event table tonight - she wanted that kind of love not settling for some cheating asshole.

The Little League Game

It was a cool autumn evening, it was an important game - if you could call it that for the little league team that Kayla had her son on.

The goal was to determine which team would move onto the playoffs, even though most of this was all in good fun because it was for eight-year-olds and it wasn’t serious.

Kayla couldn’t lie and say that she didn’t spend some of the time curiously gazing at the New York Yankees player who would come to watch his son play.

He wasn’t at every game due to his schedule but it seemed like he came to whatever ones he could with his wife and other three kids.

They had taken the bench on the bleachers right below her so she had an up close and personal view of the family when they’ve never sat this close before.

As the kids warmed up, Harry had his youngest son who looked to be about four sit next to him, squished between his dad and mom happily.

Their middle son was next to his mom on the other side, looking to be about six, and he was wriggling impatiently in his seat - eager to join the other kids in the jungle gym.

The baby girl who looked about a year and a half old didn’t look anything like her brothers - it was obvious that she was a spitting image of her mother (who was stunning).

She was curled up in her mom’s lap, asleep with her face squished against her mother’s chest - a pacifier suckling fiercely between her puffy lips.

“Mama, please,” The curly haired boy begs with greedy puppy dog eyes as he keeps glancing back to look at the other kids.

“You stay right where daddy and I can see you, yes?” YN murmurs, brushing back his unruly curls that where getting long, “And what are our rules?”

“Stay where you can see, don’t talk to strangers, and be nice to others,” He recites perfectly, Kayla was a bit blown away by his manners.

She watches baseball. It was hard to believe their children were so mild mannered when their father was the exact opposite - at least on the field.

Harry was rustling in the diaper bag for something as his son looked at him with wide, concerned eyes, “My baby, daddy.”

“I know, Ezzie. M’lookin’ f’your baby,” His father replies softly, the polar extreme of his normal brash, crude language that had a nasty tone like he couldn’t bother giving people the time of day.

“Daddy, please,” The youngest whines, his little hand grasping at his father’s tattooed wrist as he gets to his knees to help his dad look.

“Left inner pocket,” YN murmurs offhandedly as she makes sure Cash gets to the playground safely with his friends.

“Say ‘thanks mama’,” Harry coos to his son as he manages to tug out the baby doll and hand it to the awaiting little boy.

“Thanks mama,” He replies instantly with a gapped smile as he nuzzles right back into his father’s side as if he can’t get close enough.

“How are you feeling, Ezra?” His mother leans over to ask, keeping the baby close to her chest.

“M’happy, mama,” Ezra replies simply before starting to babble to himself as he plays with the babydoll.

Kayla watches Harry and YN swap a fond look at their son but she couldn’t help but wonder why they asked him that? He seemed fine so why did they feel the need to do that?

The game is going okay, Harry stands up to cheer and whistle when Easton hits a two-base hit but YN smacks his thigh and motions to their sleeping baby.

He looks at her sheepishly before sitting back down, kissing her cheek in apology, and peeking down into the fleece blanket to watch his daughter sleep for a moment.

Then it seems like Easton starts to lose momentum after he pitches two home-runs, his face pinched in disappointment as the other team scores but Harry is attempting to keep him motivated with encouraging shouts.

Easton struggles from then on, he strikes out for his final three turns, doesn’t catch two pop-ups, and his pitches start to get a little shaky. It’s obvious in his facial expression he’s getting upset because he’s breathing heavier like he’s trying not to cry.

Kayla feels a sense of dread for the little boy, his father who’s the best baseball player in modern day history is watching his son not do well during an important game.

Because of what she knows of him from his temper and attitude on the field - she worries that he’s one of those father’s who will hound their kid for doing poorly.

“Oh, c’mon East,” Harry murmurs softly when his son stumbles over a ground ball before another kid picks it up and throws it in - their son smacking his glove down against the ground in frustration.

“He’s getting himself worked up,” YN notes as she watches her oldest kick his cleats in the dirt with a quivering bottom lip.

“I know,” Harry replies to his wife, “Wish he wouldn’t, he’s gettin’ upset out there, I can tell.”

“Sad?” Ezra squeaks, clambering onto his father’s lap and stating, “Hold me, daddy.”

Harry obliges easily, gathering up his small son before his attention is directed back onto the game - it was down to the last few minutes and unfortunately Easton pitched a ball that resulted in a home run for the other team.

“Fuck,” Harry mutters, running a hand through his messy locks before he’s setting Ezra back down on the bleachers, “I’m going to go talk to him. Do you want to meet back home?”

YN nods, leaning down to tuck the baby into the double stroller before buckling Ezra in as well, “I’m going to go get Cash and head out. Why don’t you take him out for some ice cream? I love you.”

“I love you too, mama,” He replies, kissing her softly before kissing both of his kids foreheads and stepping down the bleachers - ignoring all the adults who are staring at him with a starstruck expression as he heads to the dugout.

It cleared out fast, nobody sticking around after the loss that ended with them not continuing on to the championship, and Easton was sat on the bench - he was stoic and there was a hard, angry expression on his face that reminded Kayla of what she saw Harry look like when he played.

As she gathers up her son and makes sure he’s got all of his equipment, Kayla stands and chats to a few of the moms before she’s heading to her car - which happened to be parked next to a sleek Masserati crossover, who would let their muddy kid go in there? Rich people, she guesses.***

Kayla pops the trunk to her van with her key as they get closer, she notices that Harry also has his up and Easton is sitting on the tailgate with his eyes looking down at the pavement. She tries not to appear as nosey or eavesdropping as she tucks her items into the back.

“Sweetheart, s’okay. Y’did so so good tonight,” Harry assures his pouty son, he squats down to start to untie his son’s nike cleats but continues to make eye contact with him.

“No, I didn’t, Daddy!” Easton whines, tears finally starting to bubble over the surface as he begins to sob with a shuddering chest, “I gave up home runs and then I missed ground balls!”

“Whoa, bubby,” Harry simpers after he tugs off the shoes and throws them carelessly into the back before standing up, “Y’did amazing, are you kiddin’? You did three innings of strikeouts, hit two of y’own homeruns. Y’played like a professional, way better than daddy.”

Kayla’s heart aches a bit when she sees Harry sit down next to him before hugging him harshly into his side, thumbing at the tears that are running down his son’s sweaty cheeks with soft reassurances.

“Daddy, are you mad I didn’t win?” Easton asks shakily, keeping his head buried into his father’s side and his small hand clutching into the fabric of his hoodie.

Harry chuckles lowly, “Daddy would never be mad at you f’anythin’, definitely not a baseball game. Remember what mama and I said? If at any point y’want to stop playin’, just let us know and we can find something else, yeah? Just like how Ezzie does art classes.”

Easton seems to calm down after a few moments of Harry rocking him and reassuring him of what an amazing son he is.

As Kayla drove away that night, her perspective on the all-star baseball player definitely changed. It was refreshing to see someone to not hold their child to an unreasonable expectation just like she thought Harry would.

The Campfire

Austin was the shortstop on the baseball team, he’d brought along his girlfriend, Chelsea, to the frat party to celebrate another win.

Everyone was in whispers that Harry was bringing his new girlfriend but nobody knew who she actually was because it was just a rumor.

It was surprising because Harry wasn’t a relationship kind-of man. He wasn’t into hookups much - always said he needed to focus on baseball.

Many of his teammates were envious of how many girls were constantly coming up to Harry at parties to flirt and try to get a dance in but he had always rejected them.

Harry had never showed interest in any of these girls at the parties, never seen him disappear upstairs with one or really entertain a conversation over a beer like they’d expect.

Chelsea pokes his shoulder and nods towards the entrance when Harry walks in with his arm around YN’s shoulder.

Most were in a little shock because they seemed like such an unlikely couple - YN had written some scathing articles about him and it was no secret he hadn’t been a fan of her.

“Holy shit, Harry’s dating YN?” Chelsea whispers to Austin as the group of party-goers cheer and whistle at the allstars appearance.

“Guess so,” Austin replies with a shrug, tugging Chelsea into the kitchen for a drink.

Later on that night, there’s a bonfire on one side of the backyard and a volleyball net on the other where a group was gathering to play.

Austin and Chelsea are on the opposing team of Harry and YN - she can’t help but watch them with curiosity because of what a surprise it is that they’re dating.

Even Austin has been watching because Harry’s acting in a way that he’s never seen throughout his time on the team with him.

Harry is just all over YN which was confusing how he went from not being remotely interested in the college girls to being a lovestruck puppy.

When she throws the ball up to serve, Harry reaches over and pinches her bum which makes her squeak and accidentally drop the ball which has him cackling as she glares at him.

As they change positions, he crowds up behind her, and massages her hips, leaning down to murmuring something in her ear.

She blushes wildly before smacking him off which has him laughing hard and kissing the back of her head before taking his position.

After Harry jumps and spikes the ball hard, earning them the winning point, YN turns around and wraps her arms around him to hug him tightly.

Harry wraps his arms around her shoulders, returning the hug before pulling back to kiss her lips in a soft peck.

Chelsea elbows Austin, “Who’s that and what did they do with Harry?”

Austin shakes his head, “I really don’t fucking know.”

The group migrates over to the fire as they might become cooler and the stars are high up in the sky, the fire flickering orange and yellow crackles of sparks.

Harry plops into a chair, pulling YN right onto his lap, and she wriggles until she’s comfortable. Chelsea notices him tap her thigh as if telling her to cut it out, too much motion right on his crotch.

Jake, one of his teammates, says in a teasing tone, “YN, I’m surprised to see you around these parts . I clearly remember a strongly worded article about how stupid frat parties are.”

YN takes it in stride, smiling as she replies, “And this party just proves my point.”

The group laughs easily, they enjoy YN’s sharp wit and comebacks as they get to know her. Austin can’t help but to notice how quiet Harry is.

Normally, he’s the life of the party, loud and making his presence known to everyone but not tonight. He has his chin propped on her shoulder and she’s cuddled back into his chest.

Austin can’t make out what Harry is saying but he’s constantly whispering in her ear and accentuating each time with a squeeze to her thighs.

“Are you guys official?” One of the teammates asked bluntly, a few beers deep by this point in the night.

Harry replies instantly, a possessive squeeze, “She’s mine and off the market, s’don’t even think about it.”

“Well I don’t think it matters because she’s turned down the whole baseball team by this point. I think everyone tried to ask her out at least once,” Steve jokes as the others agree.

“Tha’s m’girl,” Harry murmurs to her before teasing his friends,“Who’d want to go out with any you? You’re all dickheads.”

Everyone continues to joke around, it’s nearing midnight and that’s right about when Harry gets in his prime - like the party just started.

But not tonight.

YN’s eyes start to flutter shut as everyone banters and drinks around the fire, obviously not used to these late night parties.

“I better get this one t’bed,” Harry states after a few minutes, thumbing at YN’s cheekbone as she tries to stay awake.

“I’m okay,” She mumbles weakly, head still heavy against his shoulder.

“You’re coming back though, right?” Kyle asks expectantly, brows furrowed.

Harry shakes his head, “Nah, m’in for the night when she is.”

All the players look at him with a bit of a dumbfounded look, Steve shooting out, “Who knew you’d be so pussy whipped, Styles?”

Chelsea’s eyebrows raise at the crude comment, waiting with bated breath as Harry’s jaw clenches as it seems like he’s biting his tongue.

“Goodnight,” Harry says in a tone Austin has never heard before - agitated and almost…offended.

When Austin and Chelsea are sneaking up to his room for a late night hook-up, she overhears Harry and YN in his bedroom.

At first, she thinks they’re in an actual argument but as she listens to them - it’s not the kind of arguement she thought it was.

“You’re always the little spoon,” YN groans from behind the closed door.

Harry squawks, affronted before huffing back at her, “S’my favorite, please spoon me, darling?”

“You’re so fucking spoiled,” YN giggles as Chelsea assumes they move into a position where Harry’s the little spoon.

“Mm, I like feelin’ y’tits against my back, s’nice,” Harry hums with a boyish tone.

Chelsea doesn’t even realize she’s smiling until Austin drags her from her stupor.

All she knew was that Harry Styles really really fancied that school reporter.

-=-=-=-=-=-

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yaomomvs · 3 years

Text

— BEING INARIZAKI’S TEAM MANAGER AND A SECRET VOLLEYBALL PLAYER

inarizaki x f!manager

this is part of a hcs series, let me now what team you want next <3

okay so actually you ended being the manager because the girls volleyball team had already closed the application time

so you you were really looking forward to it and omg you were so sad about it

after being rejected, you were just peacefully going through the gym and you heard laughter from a bunch of guys

you recognized kosaku since he was in your class and waved at him.

and so, they were talking about getting a manager since this team is pretty much a lot to handle

and so since kosaku knew you were hard working and that the first idea that popped out oh his head was that if you wanted to try out.

kita respectfully introduced himself and asked if you were willingly try out 🥺🥺🥺 like what a man 🥺🥺

and mostly because the twins having fangirls always made this process kind of difficult, so instead kita and aran wanted to make sure it was someone who at least was trusted by one of them

and not to brag but bestie you are gorgeous

so it was a win win

atsumu refused to this because as the jerk he usually is, he said that he didn’t need any help

that son of a bitch

he was being soooo petty mainly after you said “oh don’t worry kita, idiots are not my type”

osamu fell in love with you ❗️

and aran

and suna

and well the team.

and so, looking at the other court where the girl vbc was training you said that it was something.

every! single! practice! is! chaotic!

but somehow you managed them so well

atsumu is still trying to prove that he doesn’t but oh boy he is the first one to requiere your help

you better believe this guys are your simps and are constantly competing over someone who a year ago could never imagine they had

your attention? the best way to prove each other they were superior

in away games, god bless the idiot that wants to even dares to try to do a move on you

they are lowkey intimidating

not but seriously

specially and surprisingly kita and aran

son como esos niños mamones fresas que de cierto modo les tienes miedo

besides

this team? over the moon for you

and tbh, they were so grateful for you, you did a lot for them that they started to feel some kind of embarrassing how before they wouldn’t know how to do basic stuff like cooking for camps, labeling they jerseys correctly, searching for new equipment like they love you

anyways that however was kinda sus to them

it all started when somehow you learned so quickly, and the technical stuff was not hard to understand as to others

surprisingly the first one to notice was suna

you could have said something but tbh

you still look forward to play volleyball like more seriously even as a hobby

BUT

you’d rather be dead than telling your team that’s what you wanted because

a) they could think you only joined to learn volleyball and not help them

b) you had your pride, you want to be recognized by your own merits rather than “of course, they are inarizaki’s manager if they weren’t they could have never been this good”

so you still played volleyball but hid from them

there was a gym nearby where constant tournaments were held

you were a ghost because knowing damn well your boys could go there at any moment you decided to take some precautions

like nickname and position was everything they knew about you

your teammates loved you, so they respected your private life, and it was kind of cool

but what you were not expecting is that for some reason, omimi had followed you one day bc you forgot something after practice.

being a friday it meant for some weird reason you always rushed out

“sus” suna says everytime

so he catches you going out to the gym and maybe, he thought, you were just going to workout or see someone

BUT THIS GUYS EYEBALLS ALMOST FALL WHEN HE SEES TOY RUSH AND TAKE OFF YOUR SCHOOL UNIFORM SHIRT AND TIE TO FUCKING REVEAL A JERSEY WUTH A #3 on it

bye you broke him

and so he tries to process it normally

key word: tries

and here we are him being interrogated by the team incredulous to his words.

ay first they interrogated him being overprotective by the fact that he was spending more time with you but when he tells them what he saw god dammit

they loose it when they find out.

and so, tsumu says something that everyone agrees with him for the first time

“let’s go and spy”

“i swear to god if y/n finds out...”

“shut up aran, unless you want to make it obvious and reveal our identity dumbass!”

“tsumu, the disguises are awful”

“come on kita not you too!”

“what if”

“akagi shut up all of you agreed with the idea”

“osamu you suck”

and so there they go. trying to find you in the sea of people at the entrance, not having a clear view yet, they only search for the navy blue and white uniform that omimi described to them when he saw you.

and then almost as if it was the gods plan, they started hearing whispers of people around mentioning the arrival of one of the most popular teams out there.

“come on what the big deal-” suna started saying, however your figure appeared and he instantly turned into a babbling mess.

as well as the rest of inarizaki vbc.

osamu had to double check to assure himself that it indeed was you, beautiful as ever, walking alongside your hot and apparently talented team.

minutes later, they were standing in the bleachers as quiet as they could. they spotted you.

“A SETTER” atsumu jumped of his seat and had to be scolded by aran who was also surprised by the position you were going to be playing.

“wasn’t expecting that” ginjima talks saying what everyone was currently thinking.

behind them was a couple of guys, who apparently did not know how lower their comments.

“the setter is kinda cute” “wow look at that” oml please even aran who was the voice of reason had the urge to punch them in the face.

still they decided to just focus on your game who has now been started. and even tho they wanted to not do it, they couldn’t help analyzing you and your moves in the court. it was natural, well because they were players and very good ones it’s inevitable for them to compare and to study the way you played more than anything.

they were not expecting you to be this good. almost everything in your technique was polished, your tema work was remarkable and god bless your ability to read the blockers.

but there was a moment when they just saw the panoramic view of your skills. atsumu could see your tired expression, the sweat on your body, he just knew you were feeling now the adrenaline of the last moments of the set.

still you yelled a “we will take it” and then, with the others team hope hanging on a thread, the ball came to your libero, which perfectly passed the ball to you.

there was greed in your eyes, so scary that kita for a moment feared for the other team.

and it was when you did the setter dump that your whole team stood up in pure shock.

who were you and why were you hiding?

sadly the boys screamed way too loud which lead to you, after you made the last point and give the history to your tema, lifted up your gaze and saw a bunch of idiots wearing hats and everything in between.

suna and tsumu ran the fastest in the team directly to the gate, and the with a bunch of losers behind them,

because after everything you were there arms crossed and a murderous look in your eyes.

“IM TOO YOUNG TO DIE Y/N” “osamu shut up!”

they, once you made sure to pinch each and everyone’s ears, starred bombarding questions on how did you managed to learned that and why you did ikr tell them

“come on guys, in school i’m already looked down at just because it’s you! so could you imagine me being a inarizaki student trying to move without your name?”

kita forced them to shut up and aran felt a a kind of guilt

as week as everyone else

“don’t worry y/n, we know now what it’s like to not being your own author.”

and so, they just told you how proud they were.

“maybe we are jerks but y/n we are your jerks, and over there or respect to you has just grown up”

suna the says “you’ve been there all of the time for a while now, i guess it out time to return the favor”

and so ever since then they alwaaaaays try to be at your games

like pls once the referee said one of your serves was out and from the bleachers he screaaaaaaamed, he claims that it was definitely in

kita always gives you some food after a game or practice

talking about practice

even if you are there for being a manager they always try to, at least half an hour before ending practice, they have a quick game with you playing alongside them or just including you in their repeats etc

and goooood bless once again anyone who tried to look down at you.

because after being constantly on you games ofc people started recognizing them as the inarizaki power house

if they heard someone relying your talent on them pls make sure they five them the coldest look ever

like ‘nah bro i dare you to say that one more time’

*knive eyes*

and

even some girls attend your games trying to flirt with them

you know what they do?

they brush them off and say “sorry, my type is y/n” suna says and the are 😳

pretty much everyone does this

come on even aran

inarizaki best boys 🥺🥺🥺

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marvelsdc22 · 3 years

Text

Pride At Camp Half-Blood

Intro: Hello, lovelies!! I hope you guys are having a good day/night!! Here’s another pride fic!! Just two more to go!! Hope you enjoy! :)

Note: Y/N and Annabeth try to go to pride, but monsters ruin everything, what happens when you mix pride with a bunch of demigods?

Word Count: 938

Oh shit I hope I have time and a space left for the pride requests, work has been keeping me busy. So may I request an Annabeth Chase with lesbian reader where they plan a pride at camp half blood because maybe they tried to go somewhere but got caught up with monsters. And they even create mini floats using the chariots :D and Annabeth gets to use her architect skills :3 oh oh oh and yn and annabeth wearing couple shirts ;_; please and very thank you :D - @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

You and Annabeth had been official since a few months after Percy introduced you two, you being his older half sister, you had been hanging out with Percy to help him get ready to move to his dorms and he had invited Annabeth there, as soon as you both met, you knew there was something between you and not just the fact you were both demigods, that had happened a little over a year ago, now the two of you were trying to go to the pride fest that New York held every year, both of you were excited to go.

Sadly, being a demigod meant monsters and monsters usually ended up having no fun, of course there were monsters at pride, why wouldn’t there be? “Do you think monsters have pride?” You asked as you and Annabeth headed up the hill towards camp, Annabeth staring at you for a solid minute before she laughed “You really are like your brother” she chuckled, shaking her head while you raised an eyebrow and cocked your head slightly to the side which she found adorable “What’s that supposed to mean? Annabeth!” You called when she ignored your question as she took off up the hill, laughing as she did.

When you guys got to camp, you noticed there were quite a few more campers around than usual “Must be some new people” you commented, looking at her when she nodded before you sighed “It just sucks that we couldn’t go to pride… I know you would’ve enjoyed it” you told her, her having never gone due to her busy schedule, especially with this past year being her first year of college “Who says we can’t go?” Annabeth asked, causing you to furrow your brows “We can make one here” she said, gesturing to camp and you stared at the camp, the hill giving you the perfect vantage point to see a good portion of it “Lets go ask Chiron!” You grinned, taking her hand and running with her to the Big House.

Once permission was granted, you and Annabeth recruited a few others to help your cause “Why are we doing this?” Nico asked, having only really come along because Will had dragged him over “Because, we can’t go to pride with monsters lurking about, so we can bring it to us!” You said excitedly, looking at Percy when he smiled at you “I’m in” he said, taking a seat in front of you as you wrote stuff down in a notebook “Me too!” Piper said, sitting down as well and shortly after that, you had a whole group of your friends and campers to help you organize this, this was going to be the best one yet!

It took you guys two days to get everything set up, but once you stepped out of yours and Percy’s cabin the day of the pride, you couldn’t help but smile as you saw all the pride flags hanging where the camp half-blood ones usually were, little kiosks that each cabin made up, filled with games and toys, even Mr. D seemed to be getting into it as he seemed to stay still in a chair long enough for a daughter of Aphrodite to paint a rainbow on his face “We did good” you heard Percy say when he came up to you, resting a hand on your shoulder “Now, lets go get breakfast and get started, huh?” He suggested before leading you to the dining pavilion.

After breakfast, you resituated your shirt, making sure it was wrinkle free, it being a couple shirt that you shared with Annabeth, yours saying Every Short Girl Needs A Tall Girlfriend with rainbow lines under every other word while Annabeths said Every Tall Girl Needs A Short Girlfriend with the same design, looking up you saw Annabeth with her blonde curls pulled back into a loose ponytail as she made her way over to you “Hey” she said, smiling at you as she kissed your cheek “Hey to you, this all looks amazing!” You grinned, taking her hand in yours, feeling her give your hand a soft squeeze “It does, you want to see the floats I made? Well, I had help, but I came up with them” she said, looking at you and blushing some “Lead the way, m’lady” you said, smiling as she led you towards the floats.

When you got there, you saw each cabin had their own float, the first handful were of each pride flag, while the others were covered in rainbows and pride words “Annabeth! This is amazing!” You grinned, staring at the floats in awe before you looked at her “You’re amazing” you said, giving her a soft smile which she returned with the hint of a blush on her face “Best. Pride. Ever” you said, smiling at her before you leaned up and pecked her lips gently “You took the words right out of my mouth” she smiled, resting her forehead on yours before you guys jumped when Leo interrupted “Uh, you guys may wanna get out here, there may be a tiny fire at the gazebo, that was totally not my fault!” He said before rushing away, the two of you sighing before you looked at each other once more “Lets go play hero” she said, giving your hand a squeeze before she led you out of the arena where the floats had been stored, the first annual pride fest at Camp Half-Blood going off without a hitch, minus Leo’s fires of course, but everyone could agree… This was the best pride anyone could ask for.

Permanent Taglist: @rianncreates / @natasha-danvers / @hopingforbarnes / @xxxtwilightaxelxxx / @mckennamayfairgoode / @mmmmokdok

PJO Taglist: @imagine-lcorp

End Note: I hope you all enjoyed!! The next pride fic will be coming in a few days!! If you’d like to be added to a Taglist, shoot me a DM or an Ask!! Have a good day/night!! :)

Requests Open

Pride Requests Closed

#annabeth chase x reader #annabeth chase x fem!reader #annabeth chase x lesbian!reader #annabeth chase x jackson!reader #annabeth x reader #annabeth chase imagine #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #pride 2021

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devilyn · 3 years

Text

meet n greet | kuroo tetsurou

part 2 to your biggest fan.

— alexa, play: come thru by summer walker (ft usher).

You make me wanna come through

Quarter after two

Just to put it down on you

You make me wanna replay

All of those things

That you and me, we do

— synopsis: kuroo finally decides he wants to help you with your onlyfans. | F!READER

— genre: explicit, lots of dirty talk, an aspect of exhibitionism, no actual penetration

— word count: 2.4k

— a/n: happy valentines day lol. if u know me, u didn’t see this. also, this is a repost bc it didn’t show up in the tags so srry if u saw this b4. plz tumblr put it in the tags this time

Kuroo couldn't get your images out of his head. Whenever he glanced at you from the back of the lecture hall, it took all of his willpower to think of anything but the way you came apart just three feet away from his usual seat.

He was going to lose his mind if he didn't talk to you soon. Which is why he was standing outside the dining hall he watched you walk into just a little over half an hour ago. Courage. He needed a lot of it to approach you about this. How would he broach the topic?

"Hey, I've seen you naked, and now all I can think of is bending you over this table and--"

Yeah there was no way.

So instead, he glanced down absentmindedly at his phone and checked his notifications. A text from a groupmate, a notification that his professor put his homework grade in, some mobile game reminder, and a notification that you had just uploaded a new photo.

…?

Just now?

His brain went into autopilot as he tugged his phone closer to him so no passerbys could see what he was about to open.

You really did just post. It was a picture of your legs spread open underneath the dining hall table. You weren’t wearing any panties under your skirt--that was obvious--but you had covered up the sight of your pretty pussy with your other palm.

You had just taken this photo. Kuroo had to conjure up pictures of kittens, puppies, and volleyball tactics to force himself not to pop a boner in public.

The door next to him creaked open, and he quickly hid his phone against his chest so no one could see the screen.

“Kuroo?”

Your voice was familiar. He had dreamed of it calling his name an embarrassing amount of times at this point. But now, he felt like hiding away in shame.

“Y/N,” he greeted dumbly, forcing a smile onto his face. His cheeks were red. Just seconds ago, he was staring at your--

“Are you alright?” you asked worriedly. You stopped right in front of him, raising your hand to place gently on his forehead. “What’re you doing out here? You’re red--did you catch a cold?”

His eyes trailed slowly down from your furrowed brows, your concerned gaze, your tempting lips, until they stopped at the way your skirt was fluttering in the wind. You were so close, he was practically inhaling your scent.

“I..” his composure was slipping. “I was waiting...for you.”

You blinked, clearly surprised. You two weren’t close enough for him to wait for you after lunch...for anything, really. Your confusion was evident on your expression as you slowly tilted your head to the side, waiting for him to continue.

“...I wanted to talk to you,” he exhaled slowly, pulling your hand away from his forehead and holding it firmly in his own. Your brows furrowed further in confusion, and your lips parted to speak before he cut you off.

“You’re not wearing panties, are you?”

That certainly left you speechless. You stared up at him with wide eyes, silent as he gazed down at you.

“...how’d you know?” you finally asked, pressing your thighs together and feeling the heat gather between them now that you've been caught. His gaze trailed down slowly to observe the way you held your skirt down in response to a strong gust of wind that blew by.

“You never struck me as a type to make an OnlyFans, you know,” he murmured quietly, dark eyes finally flickering back up to meet yours. “Not in high school, at least.”

“We all have our secrets, don’t we? You never struck me as the type to buy your high school volleyball club’s manager’s OnlyFans,” you countered.

“Touche,” he grinned, confidence returning. “I was waiting here for you because I have a proposition.”

You quirked a brow.

“I may be able to help with your content,” he murmured, stepping closer and sliding a hand between your legs. You gasped, eyes widening quickly as you placed a hand on his chest. His large palm cupped your bare heat, easily slipping underneath your skirt to press the base of his palm against your clit before pulling away. Your legs trembled from the suddenness of his actions, cheeks heating up quickly as you averted your gaze.

“...why don’t you come over to my apartment so we can discuss that a bit more?” you asked with a shaky voice, and Kuroo’s smirk grew as he swung an arm around your shoulder, tugging you into his side.

“Lead the way then, manager.”

You had barely managed to stop Kuroo from pouncing onto you the moment your front door closed behind the two of you. You had over a hundred questions for him. When did he buy your OnlyFans, how did he find it, whether or not any of your mutual friends had seen it, and many more.

But you didn’t have the time. The instant he stepped into your apartment, he was pressing his lips to yours heatedly. You murmured a weak “bed, please--” against his lips before he pulled away and lifted you up into his arms. Your head was spinning, and before you knew it, your back was hitting your mattress and Kuroo was climbing over you.

He hovered over you for a second, gazing down at you--right in front of him. Now, he could see everything. He didn’t have to look at you through a screen, and he wasn’t obstructed by a paywall.

“Let’s start,” he practically purred as he fished his phone from his jeans, tossing it into your palms. “With a few test shots.”

You looked so cute lying beneath him with your hair splayed out around you, your lips parted to ask what he meant. With a quiet chuckle, he tilted your chin up towards him and leaned down to kiss you again. This time, his tongue slipped past your lips and slid up against yours. He poked and prodded at every inch of your mouth, absorbing the way you moaned and wrapped your arms loosely around his shoulders.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled against your lips as he pulled back slowly, half-lidded eyes gazing down at your flushed expression and the way you leaned up to try and brush your lips over his once more.

Reluctantly, he pulled back and laughed as you whined softly.

“Test shots?” you asked curiously while he shifted so he was kneeling at the end of your bed.

“Mhm,” he responded simply as he wrapped his arms around your thighs. “You’ll see.”

You let out a loud yelp as he suddenly yanked you towards the edge of the bed. He easily hoisted your thighs up and practically folded you in half. Kuroo spread your legs far apart and pressed your knees towards your shoulders, his firm hands keeping your trembling thighs in place.

“Ah, you look so cute like this,” he mused with a pleased sigh as he lifted himself up so he could lean up and peck your lips. “Take some nice photos for me, ‘kay?”

“Kuroo--”

“Tetsu works just fine,” he grinned as he kneeled on the ground in front of you. Your fingers fumbled to unlock his phone and pull the camera up as he lightly bit down on the edge of your skirt. With his teeth, he slowly tugged your skirt up to expose your bare pussy.

You pressed record just as his breath fanned over your heat. Slowly, he ran the flat of his tongue up your wet slit, flicking his tongue over your clit. Your thighs twitched under his palms as you inhaled sharply. The camera shook slightly in your palms as you captured an image of Kuroo’s skillful tongue running over your clit.

“Tetsu,” you whimpered, and he felt like he might cum in his pants just from the way you said his name. Slowly, he began to swirl his tongue around your sensitive bud as he pulled one hand away from your thighs to press slowly between your folds. Without being able to help it, your hips jolted forward and a weak whine left your parted lips as his index and middle finger started to spread your tight walls open.

“Tetsu--please--” you gasped as your free hand grasped his hair, tugging at him lightly to press your dripping pussy harder against his tongue. The former captain merely smirked and wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking slowly.

Your grip on his hair tightened, and your back arched off the bed as you moaned. Kuroo was surprised you were even still holding onto his phone, capturing the way he made you fall apart on his tongue. Finally, he pulled back and stood so he could watch the way your chest rose and fell quickly, your wet cunt dripping all over your sheets. He licked his lips, savoring the way you tasted on his tongue.

“C’mere, baby girl,” he purred as he leaned down to press his lips to yours. You accepted him openly, moaning into his mouth and nipping lightly at his lower lip once the two of you part for air.

“You wanna feel my cock?” he asked quietly as he trailed kisses slowly down to your neck. He pulled back just far enough so he could pull his fingers from your tight cunt and press them to your lips. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, holding his hand in place as your tongue slipped between his index and middle finger to savor every drop of your wetness he’d offered you.

Kuroo watched in awe as you pressed a soft kiss to his palm, murmuring a quiet ‘yes, please’ against his skin.

His cock felt painfully hard in his jeans. His phone was long discarded on your sheets, but he still reached for it and placed it back into your hands. You whined as a protest, but he gently pecked your lips with a small smirk.

“Be a good girl and take pictures for your fans, alright?” his hand gripped your chin, pulling your gaze up to his dark one. “Show them who you belong to.”

Obediently, you nodded and watched as Kuroo finally unzipped his jeans, and pulled his erect cock from his boxers. You trained the camera on the way he positioned himself easily between your thighs, your free hand reaching up to cup his cheek as he leaned down to kiss you deeply.

“Such a good girl, your pussy nice and creamy all over my cock,” he growled as he slowly started to grind himself against your wet cunt. He slipped the base of his shaft between your folds, sliding himself up and down your lower lips. Each time the tip of his length thrusted up against your clit, your hips jolted into him.

“So wet for me, aren’t you?” He praised as his pace started to quicken. You could feel how hard he was against you. Every twitch and throb of his cock against your heat had you closer and closer to cumming all over him.

“Tetsu,” you managed to whimper out between breathy moans. “Can you cum for me?”

He laughed breathlessly, leaning down to capture your lips in a messy kiss. Pulling back, he whispered softly, “That’s my line, baby girl.”

Seconds later, he was burying his face into the crook of your neck as his hands gripped your sheets firmly. His hips spasmed as his rhythm became sporadic, and his thrusts started to become frantic and needy. Soon, as you moaned out words of encouragement, he groaned loudly and came to the sound of you calling his name. His cock twitched and shuddered as he came all over your bare pussy.

At the same time, your legs shook and trembled as his hot cock grinded against your sensitive clit. You came while crying out his name, thighs shaking around him as he continues to slowly rub his length up and down your folds.

Kuroo pulled away from your neck to admire his work. His cock slid along your twitching cunt, covered in his cum. With a proud grin, he took two fingers and smeared his cum all over your bare pussy. You whined softly, the feeling of overstimulation causing you to close your thighs tight around his wrist before trying to squirm away.

He laughed softly as you tried to catch your breath. He hurried to your bathroom to grab a towel to clean up the mess. When he came back, you were laying in the same spot with your legs hanging off the bed, scrolling through the pictures you had managed to take.

“How’d they turn out?” He asked curiously while gently wiping his load off your heat. Your hips twitched as you lifted your head to smile brightly at him.

“Should I split the profit with you?” you teased just as he tossed the towel to the side and helped you lay properly in bed.

“That’d be ideal, I was the other model, after all,” he snickered and leaned over so he could look through the photos again.

“Think I’m gonna make this one the public one,” you stopped at a picture of your fingers threaded through his messy black hair, his face buried in your cunt.

“Yeah?” He crawled on top of you with a smirk. You laughed as he slipped himself between your arms, cuddling up against you and burying his face in your chest.

“Mhm. But I think I’m saving this one as a special message for those who pay a little extra. What do you think?”

He looked up, following your gaze to the image on his phone screen.

The picture was one of him standing between your spread thighs, his cock pressed right up against your wet pussy, taken right after he came and covered you with his thick cum. The sight made his cock twitch and harden quickly against your thigh.

Your eyes widened as you turned your gaze to him before you sat up slightly.

“Tetsu, you’re already--?!”

He grinned and pressed a soft kiss against your neck as he swat his phone out of your hand. Lacing his fingers with yours, he flipped himself over so he could hover above you. Leaning down, he pecked your lips and laughed as you rolled your eyes.

“Wanna go another round?”

#kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsurou imagines #kuroo tetsurou smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu smut #kuroo smut #plz tumblr #the tags #i just want my smut to be seen #kuroo x reader

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lucemferto · 3 years

Text

WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT PH1LZA (or Why Philza is a Victim of Narrative Circumstance)

Heyo! Per request I am posting the script to my video of the same name here on tumblr. I must warn you that just reading the script will probably not give you the full experience, so I would encourage you to watch the video (linked above).

There might also still be a lot of grammatical errors in the text, because I don’t proofread.

Intro

LAST TIME ON LUCEM FERTO

Okay, so! I don’t want this to turn into a reaction channel OR a Dream SMP channel for that matter! [echo]

Well, I lied.

[Intro to “Luc is pretentious about the funny blockmen. Episode 2”]

I swear, I’m working on other stuff. It’s just that my dumb lizard brain has only capacity for one interest at a time!

So, something you might not know about me, is that I am on tumblr – who am I kidding, most of you will know me from tumblr. Before starting this whole YouTube thing, I thought that website died years ago – but as per usual reality proves me wrong. I’m also on Twitter and Reddit, but I get the most engagement on tumblr – by far! – and I need those sweet, sweet numbers for the serotonin!

Anyways, one of my favourite past-times on tumblr is to razz Philza Hardcore Minecraft – that’s his full name – for being a frankly awful father [clicking away] – wait, wait, no! Philza fans, this isn’t a hit piece on him, I promise! Please come back!

This is video is meant to be a companion piece to my previous video about Technoblade and the Doomsday event – you can tell by the shared nomenclature – so you should probably watch that one before you proceed. Unless you don’t want to, which is also perfectly understandable.

DISCLAIMER: This video is mostly about the character Philza plays on the Dream SMP. Whenever I talk about the content creator Philza, I will say so properly. Also, Spoiler Warning for Dream SMP Season 2.

… What is that? You’re wondering what the Dream SMP is? Well, if you had just watched the other video like I told you to do, you would know, because I explained it pretty well there. But in case you don’t know, here’s the cliff notes.

Dream SMP is the hottest New Media Series on Twitch right now! It has it all: gaslighting, child soldiers, Machiavellian political intrigue, Hamilton roleplay, desecration of the dead, shounen protagonists, SO! MUCH! AMNESIA! Filicide, furries, a red egg that’s definitely homophobic and teenagers inventing nuclear warfare. And it’s all done in Minecraft – yes, the funny block game where the only way to emote is to crouch.

And you say the perfect brief doesn’t exist!

Now, you might be wondering, why do I want to talk about this? Well, it’s because Content Creator Philza is one of least controversial internet personalities that I can think of. That man exudes pure comfort. So, it’s just very, very amusing to me that his character became one of the most controversial figures on the SMP, only outshone by Tommy and Technoblade.

And it’s not just amusing, it’s also extremely interesting! I want to dig deep to uncover and discuss the dynamics behind why that is. How did it come to this point? How did a man who appears genuinely so pleasant create a character that inspires so much discourse!

Now, if you watched that Technoblade video – like I told you to twice now! – you might know, that I am the resident character analyses hater of fandom! And that impression is false and slanderous! Don’t tell other people that I hate character analyses! I love them!

It’s just that, in the Dream SMP in particular, there is an abundance of character analyses! Every streamer has at least two very good essays written about them, exploring every possible angle to view their characters and backgrounds and everything. All I’m saying is: I don’t have anything to add on that front.

So, instead I want to pursue a different approach – something, that I feel is a bit underrepresented in the fandom! And I’m not just talking narrative analysis – that’s right, this episode we’re going even more pretentious! – I’m talking Transtextual Analysis!

Now, what is Transtextuality? Well, unfortunately it has very little to do with actual Trans people – #transrights, just in case that wasn’t obvious – but instead describes a mode of analysis with which to put – to quote French literary theorist Gérard Genette – “the text in a relationship, whether obvious or concealed, with other texts”.

Basically, you know how the L’Manburg War of Independence heavily quotes and borrows from the hit musical Hamilton? That’s transtextuality! A lot of the analyses surrounding how Tommy mirrors the Greek hero Theseus, who was invoked by Technoblade multiple times in the series, are already doing transtextual analysis! So, it’s really not something that’s new to the Dream SMP fandom.

But how does this apply to Philza and how he is looked at and judged by his parental skills? Well, there are multiple forms of transtextuality, two of which we will discuss today.

But before we continue, I gotta do that annoying YouTuber thing. I know these videos don’t look like much, but I spend a really long time making them. I work fulltime and I try my best to keep up, but sometimes I can’t. So please, like, subscribe, comment to give me some algorithm juice – I really need it – and most importantly share it! Share it with your friends, share it with your family – I’m sure Grandma is very interested in what I have to say about Philza Minecraft.

And I’m trying to be better! If I sound at all different for this video, it’s because I finally bought a new pop filter, so I can hit my plosives without it sounding like there’s a thunderstorm in my room. I hope it makes a difference; it was a very cheap pop filter, so maybe it doesn’t. Maybe it sounds worse – that would be bad!

What was I talking about? Oh yeah, CHILD NEGLEGT!

Intertextuality: Why is Dadza?

You know what’s really interesting about the Dream SMP – aside from, you know, most things about it? Very few of the characters have concrete, fleshed-out backstories – and that’s pretty weird! In no other medium or genre could you get away with something like that – at least for long-form storytelling!

So, how does Dream SMP get away with this? Well, it’s because every character on the Dream SMP is basically a self-insert – and I don’t mean that in the “This character is based on me”-kinda way, but in the “This character, for all intents and purposes, is me!”-way. This, like many things that are fascinating about the Dream SMP, is owed to the fact that this series didn’t start off as a continuous drama – it started off as a Let’s Play.

And while we can talk about how someone’s on-camera/on-mic persona is in some ways a character, it’s still miles off of being an actual, fully-realized, separate character in a storyline.

This is where Intertextuality comes in.

Intertextuality is a subset of Transtextuality. It describes how the hypertext, which is the text, you’re currently engaged with, uses another text, the hypotext, to supplement itself. The interconnection the hypertext establishes with the hypotext, through stuff like allusion for example, uh-hum [Hamilton], can colour how an audience interprets the hypertext. Basically, Hamilton and Theseus are the hypotexts; the Dream SMP is the hypertext.

So, what does this have to do with backstory? Simple: The backstories of the characters in the Dream SMP consist basically of nothing but intertextual references. Through intertextuality their content effectively substitutes their character’s backstory.

You can see it everywhere. Wilbur’s and Schlatt’s relationship and rivalry is hugely enriched, if you are aware of their shared history like SMPLive, for example – I think anyway. I haven’t watched SMPLive, because … there’s only so many hours in the day and I cannot keep up with the Dream SMP and catch up on SMPLive and live a healthy life – which I already don’t do, so…

BadBoyHalo’s and Skeppy’s relationship, which has become the crux of the Crimson-Storyline of Seasons 2 and 3, is hugely supplemented if you know that they’re also very close as streamers and in real life.

Another great example of intertextuality is basically Technoblade’s entire deal. If you just look at him completely within the text of the Dream SMP and try to transplant his entrance to any other medium: It would be extremely weird! Like, he’s just this guy that comes in in the middle of a very climatic arc, no build-up, no explanation what his deal is, and he’s treated like he has always been there. In any other medium that just wouldn’t work – at least not without a flashback or some sort of exposition!

But because of stuff like Minecraft Mondays, the Potato Wars, his Duel against Dream and SMPEarth, we understand that he is a Big Deal!

Anyways, to bring all of this back to Philza Minecraft: What kind of hypotext informs how the audience sees his character? Well, this is where I will have to talk about SBI.

SBI is an acronym that stand for State Bank of India, the 43rd largest bank in the world and…

It also stands for Sleepy Bois Incorporated. Sleepy Bois Incorporated is a loose assembly of content creators, consisting of Philza, Wilbur Soot, TommyInnit and Technoblade. It is most well-known for its very endearing family dynamic – a dynamic that is frequently acknowledged and played up by the creators involved. Tommy is the youngest brother, Wilbur and Techno are the two older brothers and Philza is of course the dad. And when I say, it’s played up, I really mean it! Wilbur seems to be especially enamoured with the idea and leaves no opportunity untaken to bring it up – which we will come back to.

And I’m not saying that they’re faking this and this is somehow an act. While I know none of these people personally, it appears to me, that this is genuinely how they interact – if a little exaggerated for the streaming experience. Even when they’re not consciously playing into the family dynamic, their interactions still very much lend themselves to that interpretation by the viewers.

Philza especially just radiates Dad-Friend energy – so much so that it has become a huge part of his brand identity – yay, I can bring that back (check out my Christmas video if you want to hear me ramble about that). The nickname Dadza stuck even before SBI was a thing.

So, even if we completely disregard SBI – which we shouldn’t for reasons I’ll get back to – Philza has cultivated an image of strong paternal guidance. He is, in my opinion completely deservedly, regarded very positively. He is highly respected and in turn seen as a voice of reason.

All of this would eventually inform the hypotext of the character Philza within Dream SMP.

Interlude: Before Dadza & November 16th

Okay, so now we have established that a) Dream SMP heavily hinges on intertextual readings by the audience to supplement character backstory and b) that Philza’s entire deal is that he’s the dad-friend – more specifically that he’s the dad of SBI (not the bank). I think you know where this is going.

So, yeah, ever since it was on the table that Philza could join the Dream SMP, it was immediately assumed that he would take on the paternal guardian role all these traumatized people on that server so desperately needed – and with good reason! Like I said before, the audience at this point was trained to take intertextual interpretations as basically canon or at the very least canon-adjacent.

I want to emphasize that this is most likely not done deliberately. I’m sure content creators Wilbur and Philza didn’t sit there and said: “Yes! We will rely entirely on the audience’s inclination to interpret our characters intertextually to define character Philza!”. Like, obviously that did not happen.

But it’s also important to remember that unlike with traditional media and the fanbases cultivated there, the separation between the Dream SMP and its audience is almost non-existent – and purposely so. The story events are streamed live, Chats are acknowledged in canon and even outside of livestreams creators are extremely involved with the fandom. So, the weight of fan-expectations is equally amplified and will more likely be incorporated into the writing process. Case in point:

[Wilbur “I miss Philza”/Philza about Wilbur]

During Wilbur’s villain arc, even before his official involvement, Philza became a prevalent point of discussion. The hope that he would be the one to snap Wilbur out of his downward spiral was not only wish-fulfilment on behalf of the fans; it also very much played off of the intertextual reading of the SBI-dynamic in relation to the Dream SMP.

Of course, this still doesn’t make Philza and Wilbur canonically blood-related – but it definitely used the “paternal”-dynamic of SBI to build-up tension and drama.

And that ultimately brings us to November 16th. The Grand Finale of Season 1 and Philza’s first canonical appearance on the SMP.

Now, for this I want to pull back from the transtextual analysis and talk about simply narrative analysis: What is Philza’s narrative purpose on November 16th?

Philza serves as the last threshold on Wilbur’s Villain’s Journey – to appropriate Vogler’s version of the monomyth for a minute here – he is what Vogler calls the “Threshold Guardian”. He is the last enemy the Hero faces before completing his quest – in this particular case Wilbur’s quest is to blow up L’Manberg. Multiple people have at this point tried to dissuade him from this course of action: Tommy, Quackity, Niki and others. So how come this Philza moment is not redundant in terms of dynamics compared to these prior scenes?

Well, it’s through our intertextual understanding of Wilbur’s and Phil’s relationship. Because Philza does not just occupy the role of the Threshold Guardian – he is also implicitly the Mentor. Before Phil there was no character in the storyline that held a higher position of moral authority than Wilbur – Dream and Schlatt, while at points more powerful in terms of actual authority, were never positioned by the narrative as Wilbur’s superiors in the same way as Wilbur was to Tommy, Tubbo or even Niki.

Before November 16th all challenges Wilbur faced were from people narratively subordinated to him. But that trend is broken with Phil. That is why he is the Threshold Guardian, why this confrontation is at the climax of Wilbur’s arc. Because Phil is the last thing tethering Wilbur to whatever morality he held before his villain arc; Phil is the last, moral obstacle Wilbur has to discard before gaining his reward.

And, just a quick sidenote, because I’ve seen it around the fandom a bunch: When I’m referring to Wilbur denouncing his morality, I’m using that in terms of narrative analysis. I’m mentioning it, because Wilbur’s character can very easily be read as mentally ill or neurodivergent and some people have – rightly! – pointed out that the excessive vilifying when talking about his character is … problematic, to say the least.

So, I just want to make clear, this isn’t a character analysis, I’m being purposely broad when talking about Wilbur and Phil.

In the end, Wilbur takes that final step and gets his “reward”: As his final request his mentor takes his life and vanquishes the evil – the dragon of Wilbur’s story slays the dragon of L’Manburg. It’s very Shakespearean in its tragedy – but beyond the larger theatrics it’s not really used to further characterize Phil – at least in the context of Season 1. There’s not a lot of focus on his characters internal conflict during November 16th.

Phil, like Techno, is very utilitarian in how content creator Wilbur writes him: He serves as a moment of hype; an obstacle Wilbur has to face; a participant in the tragic climax of Wilbur’s character and ultimately takes on his implicit and expected role of mentor and guiding figure to the rest of L’Manburg.

I think not a lot of people talk about how Philza does not join Technoblade during November 16th. He takes the side of L’Manburg – he fights against the withers and he joins Tommy, Tubbo and the others at the L’Mantree, thus framing him as loyal to the L’Manburg administration – even though Season 2 would make his loyalty to Techno central to his character. But more on that later.

What’s also important about November 16th is that this is the day when the general intertextual interpretation became canonized text.

[You’re my son!]

Wilbur is made Phil’s canonical, biological son. The intertextual interpretation of SBI as it pertains to these two characters on the SMP was completely reinforced by the narrative. Or to put it in Fandom terms: The headcanon became actual canon. At least when it came to Wilbur … but what about Philza’s “other” children?

Well, that leads to our second form of transtextual analysis:

Paratextuality: Is Dadza?

These titles are just getting better and better.

The Paratext is defined as all those things in a published work that accompany the text. It comes in two forms: One of them is the Peritext, which are non-diegetic elements directly surrounding the text – like chapter titles, author’s notes, and stuff like that. Translated to the medium of the Dream SMP, it would be stuff like this:

[Examples]

And, trust me, I could make a whole separate video about how people on the SMP use their peritext as a tool for storytelling – I’m looking at you, Ranboo – but that’s not what we will talk about in the context of Dadza.

Instead, we will focus on the second form of Paratext, the Epitext, which consists of all authorial and editorial discussions taking place outside of the text. That’s stuff like interviews, private letters or J. K. Rowling’s Twitter Account – you know, before she decided to become a full-time asshole.

[Wilbur: Transrights]

After Season 1 ended, Wilbur indulged pretty heavily in providing epitext for the Dream SMP, something he had not done prior to November 16th. His paratextual additions ranged from the playful, like assigning DnD alignments to various SMP members, to the extremely impactful, like the whole three lives system!

You probably think, you know where this is going. Wilbur provided some epitext about how Tommy and Techno either are or are not biologically related to him … and I have to be honest I thought that too. But then I began looking into the impenetrable web that is the SBI-canon on the Dream SMP and found this!

[Ghostbur explains family]

So, it wasn’t paratext, it was just straight text. Said in character, in canon, without any implication that we the viewers should question this. The text of the SBI family dynamic was explicitly linked to Dream SMP-exclusive lore, namely Fundy being Wilbur’s and Sally the Salmon’s son. This is as clear as Philza’s anguished declaration on November 16th in establishing the intertext as text. And because Wilbur also had a very heavy hand in the discussion of paratext around that time, it gave his character’s words even more “canonical” weight. Metatextually speaking, this very much read like the author giving exposition through his character – exposition that we should understand as reliable.

And, by the way, before I continue, I need to give a huge, huge shoutout to kateis-cakeis on tumblr, I hope I pronounced that right, who was just so quick in providing me with these crucial clips. Without him I would have looked for days because these people don’t archive their shit! And the Dream SMP Wiki was NO help, by the way! I love what you guys do, but stuff like this belongs in the Trivia section on characters’ pages!

Anyways, basically during the entirety of early Season 2 the SBI family dynamic was basically canon to the SMP. Sometimes it was only alluded implicitly, again letting the intertext fill out the rest.

[Philza clips]

But just as often it was just explicitly talked about – both in the text and in the paratext.

[Fundy clip/Wilbur “Twins” clip/Tommy clip]

So, I know what you’re thinking: “Why is this part called paratext, if the entire family tree is just textual”. Well, that last clip might give you a hint, as to what I will talk about. Notice how Tommy, one of the people most directly impacted by the canonization of SBI lore, is both unaware of and seems generally unenthused about it, to put it nicely? Well, that would soon turn out to be a much bigger deal than anyone could have imagined as he wasn’t the only one.

[Technoblade decanonizes SBI]

Yeah …

This happened on 20th of December. Regular viewers of this channel will remember that I put out a 90-second joke video, where I complain about this very development. And while I was mostly kidding around, the core idea is still true. The paratext provided by Technoblade and established text were in direct contradiction with one another – and that brought a lot of confusion into the fandom. Confusion, that would soon be followed by frustration.

Because Techno only decanonized himself as part of the SBI family dynamic – but what about Tommy and Tubbo, the latter of which was incorporated into the dynamic exclusively within the lore of the Dream SMP. Was this still canon or wasn’t it?

What followed was a muddled mess of contradictions, intertextual implications, text and paratext in conflict with each another. It was for the most part inscrutable to figure out how Tommy and Philza related to one another. I’ll spare you every comment made about this – mostly because I want to spare myself from looking for all of them.

In the end, the current status is that their familial relationship is … unclear. Philza said, again in paratext, that it’s ultimately up to the writers to decide, whether or not Tommy is his son … which, I personally think he and Tommy should be the ones to establish that, but I’ll come back to that later.

But why is all of this important anyway? Why would this ambiguity create such an uproar, such controversy – especially when it comes to Tommy’s character? What makes Tommy’s and Philza’s relationship such a target for discussion in the fandom?

Well … this is where we will have to talk about the storyline of Season 2.

Interlude II: Tommy’s Exile and Dadza in Season 2

Okay, Season 2. This is where the spoilers are, so I will just sneakily drop this again. It took me five seconds to google this gif and I will milk it for every penny it’s worth!

At the beginning of Season 2, Philza’s narrative role has not changed much from where Season 1 ended. He is in L’Manburg dispensing earthly wisdom, being a paternal figure to Fundy, Ghostbur and Tubbo, helping with the nation’s rebuilding efforts; just generally occupying the role of the mentor.

[clips]

And then came … the Exile. The Exile Arc took place between December 3rd and December 15th during Season 2 of the Dream SMP. It revolves around TommyInnit getting exiled from L’Manburg and slowly getting psychologically tortured and broken down by Dream. It’s a really great arc, at least in my opinion, that explores and deepens a lot of Tommy’s character relationships, whether that be Tommy and Dream, Tommy and Tubbo or Tommy and Ranboo. One relationship, however, is noticeably missing.

So, yeah, Philza spends basically the entirety of the exile doing pretty much nothing of consequence. And that’s not a problem specific to him – One big criticism I would levy against the Exile Arc is that a lot of characters are left spinning their wheels. Which is why we get zany stuff like El Rapids, Drywaters, Eret’s Knights of the Roundtable, Boomerville – anyone remember Boomerville, that was a thing for 5 seconds, wasn’t it? – basically a lot of storylines are started and then unceremoniously dropped. Now, I will talk more about this, when I make a video about Season 2 of the Dream SMP … in ten years, look forward to it.

In the case of Philza, this inaction was especially damning, because at this point it was still a considered canon that he was Tommy’s dad. So, the fans were left with a situation, where just a few weeks prior Philza was occupying a paternal role for Fundy and Ghostbur … but now, that his youngest son was in a very concerning predicament – to put it lightly – he was nowhere to be found.

So why is that?

Well, the most obvious answer is that Dream and Tommy didn’t write him into the storyline. We’ve seen that Tommy wasn’t particularly interested in exploring a familial relationship to Philza, at least at the time. And it would just not fit in with what Dream and Tommy tried to do with the Exile Arc: they wanted to tell the story of Tommy being isolated, completely under Dream’s mercy, slowly worn down and manipulated. If Philza had been constant presence for Tommy during that time, it would have definitely shifted the narrative focus. That doesn’t mean that they couldn’t have done that, it’s just a matter of fact that they didn’t.

This also reveals another truth about content creator Philza’s character work, that I think is extremely crucial: He takes what the writers give him. Outside of a few choice moments, he doesn’t seem particularly interested in expanding or even solidifying his character on the SMP.

What I’m saying is that he is very go-with-the-flow: Wilbur wants to enact a Shakespearean tragedy? Philza’s up for it. Fundy wants him as a parental figure and mentor? Philza’s here for him. Tommy, conversely, doesn’t want him as a paternal presence, even though it would make sense for Philza’s character, as it was established so far, to be there? Philza will oblige.

The reason I’m mentioning this is because, while Tommy and Dream were unwilling to utilise Philza in their storyline, someone else was more than happy to. Which leads us back, like it always does, to everyone’s favourite Porky Pig-kinnie in a crown: Technoblade.

Technoblade and Philza, from everything I’ve seen of them, seem to be very good friends – and they share a lot of history even outside SBI. So, it’s commendable that they would collaborate on a storyline together.

A consequence of that, however, is that Philza’s narrative purpose shifts completely with very little transition. His entire character changes from being the Mentor-figure of L’Manberg to being pretty much exclusively defined as Technoblade’s ally; his man on the inside. It is a very sharp turn from the end of Season 1. Their relationship is once again informed via intertext – this time the Antarctic Empire on SMPEarth serves as the hypotext – but there isn’t a huge effort made to smoothly integrate that aspect of Philza’s character into the larger narrative framing around him.

How much the narrative utilisation of Philza has shifted can be very easily observed through the Butcher Army event on December 16th, a story event that I like less and less the more I think about. Here Philza is used to show just how corrupt and violent Tubbo’s administration has becomes. He is no longer the respected mentor, he is now the stand-in for the oppressed populace, similar to Niki’s role in Season 1. On a narrative level, he is here to prove a point.

If you’ve seen my Technoblade video, you know how I feel about … just that entire storyline, so I will not reiterate too much on it. I just want to make clear that I’m not principally against this development – if they wanted to truly explore Tubbo going down a dark path and getting corrupted by power, so much so that he would even treat the person who effectively raised him like a prisoner, I would be extremely here for it, I cannot stress that enough.

The problem I have is that it’s just so sloppily done. It is not coherent with how these characters behaved and, more importantly, how they were narratively framed prior to the Butcher Army event. Fundy gets one token line about Phil being his Grandfather – a far cry from the very emotionally complex relationship they had established at the beginning of Season 2 – and Phil then callously disowns him.

The major problem simply is that we don’t see how Philza changes from Mentor-figure to embittered, oppressed citizen. And there was enough time to build to that. During the entirety of Tommy’s exile Tubbo was pretty much spinning his wheels and Quackity and Fundy were opening up plot cul-de-sacs that didn’t end up going anywhere. This is time they could have spent on developing their relationship to Philza and the dark path they were going down – but again, Season 2 video.

There is not much to say on Philza’s narrative purpose and framing beyond the Butcher Army event. He remains pretty much exclusively Techno’s consigliere with his role as Mentor to L’Manburg a distant memory. He has some cute character moments with Ranboo, because content creator Philza is just big dad-energy whether he wants to or not, and whenever he and Ghostbur share a scene suddenly the narrative remembers that there are people other than Technoblade that should exist in Philza’s inner world. But aside from that, Philza’s storyline in Season 2 remains … pretty definitive is the nicest way I can put it.

Most importantly his relationship with Tommy continues to be completely unexplored – whether by chance or choice – and that combined with ever vaguer paratext leaves “Dadza” in a very peculiar situation.

Conclusion: Is Dadza a Good Dadza?

So, the question to end all questions. The big, obnoxious text, that I will probably have put in the thumbnail – I haven’t made it yet, but I know myself. The honest answer is: I couldn’t tell you.

I have, in the past, been expounding the virtues of narrative analysis. That is because I feel that Narrative Analysis and Textual Analysis, like in this video, can provide certain tools that Character Analysis lacks. Often times I see people trying to get at a writing problem or query and getting frustrated because they’re not using the toolset, they need to figure out what they want to figure out.

But I’d be a hypocrite if I pretended like everything could be solved through the modes of analysis I prefer. And I think the Dadza-issue is exactly such a case.

I set out to explore why the Philza-Tommy-“Dadza”-relationship has become so controversial. It’s a combination of expectations build up through intertextual readings, that were partly canonized – something that is very common for the Dream SMP – conflicting pieces of paratext, which only serve to muddle the issue further and a text that is not only completely uninterested in actually exploring Tommy’s and Philza’s relationship – as it stands right now they might as well be strangers, narratively speaking – but also completely changes Philza’s narrative purpose as it relates to characters like Fundy or Tubbo about half-way through with little to no transition.

That is why I say, that Philza’s character is a victim of narrative circumstance. Because unwittingly, through all of these factors and decisions, there is not coherent reading of Philza that frames his parental skills in a particularly kind light.

The question of how we can judge Phil as a paternal figure ultimately falls within the purview of the character analysis – and that’s a very multifaceted issue, highly dependent on which POV you focus on and how you interpret the other characters in that POV’s periphery.

To put my cards on the table, I think that Philza is a very flawed father/father-figure – and I find that absolutely okay. Flaws are the spice of character building. He is not Cinderella’s Evil Stepmother – but he’s also definitely not Mufasa. If we were to read Philza as a paternal figure, then he would have made a lot of mistakes and decisions to the detriment of his “children” – least of all everything that happened on Doomsday.

But I also have sympathies for Philza fans who are tired of the Dad-Debate and would like to have his character judged independent from his relationship to Ghostbur, Fundy, Tubbo and Tommy.

Ultimately, to bring it all to a point, I’d like to end with saying, that I think that Philza, out of all the characters on the SMP, has the potential to be on of the most intriguing, multifaceted ones. There are all of these different patches of story, character moments and narrative and transtextual implications, that, if brought together, could create a beautiful tapestry of the character Philza.

You have his relationship with Techno, which holds the potential for so much emotional conflict and vulnerabilities, you have his time as mentor of L’Manburg, which is just criminally underused; the complex relationship between him and Ghostbur/Wilbur; and – for me, personally – most intriguingly this weird, almost uncomfortably distant non-relationship with Tommy. That last one is intriguing to me, because it contrasts just so much with our intertextual understanding of the characters and streaming personas – and it just holds the potential for so much conflict, so much drama, so much angst. Which I live for!

And, yes, I do believe that most of this is narrative happenstance, that this was largely not intended by Philza or really any of the writers. It’s just what happens when hybrid-roleplay-improv a long-running, livestreamed storyline in Minecraft.

But I want them to realize the potential they have on their hands, because it could – with barely any adjustments – turn Philza from a victim of narrative circumstance to a champion of it!

Outro

Thank you so much for watching this video. Usually, I don’t record outros this standard, but after this beast of a video I felt it necessary. I hope that whether you’re a Philza fan or a Philza critical or just completely uninvolved in the whole thing, there is at least a little entertainment you could get from this.

I want to take this opportunity to say that my next few videos will probably not be Dream SMP related – a sentence which undoubtedly lost me a bunch of subs – simply because I don’t want to burn out on it. I genuinely enjoy watching the SMP and being exhausted by it would be something I wouldn’t want to force on myself.

But who knows what will happen? The Karl Jacobs video was something I did spur of the moment because the idea just came to me – so I can’t guarantee that the next video won’t be a three-minute joke about Purpled or whatever.

Anyway, my concrete plans for future Dream SMP videos are essays on Season 1 and Season 2 as well as one for Tales from the SMP.

Before that I have a longer video in the works, which I’ve already teased a bunch, so I hope it will finally be finished sometime. And I also may be working on something … eboys-related? Maybe. I’m not making any promises!

117 notes · View notes

penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories · 4 years

Text

Obi-Wan Kenobi NSFW Alphabet

A/N: Posted, unedited, and then I’m gonna nyooom to bed. I know these have been done before, and there are some really great ones out there! I just wanted to add my flair to the mix

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

It’s been said before and I’ll say it again: Obi-Wan Kenobi is the absolute king of aftercare. His soothing, deep voice against your ear, hands gently helping you clean up, arms pulling you into his chest.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes his hands. It’s a practical, logical option among a question laced with the opportunity for pride, which isn’t becoming of a Jedi. He likes what noises they bring from you, how he gets to hold you with him. He likes them because what they can do to you.

On you, he loves your eyes. He’s absolutely captivated with you, and while he certainly enjoys many areas of your body, he adores how flashes of emotion will shine through when you’re too overwhelmed to speak.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Obi-Wan loves to mark you with it, especially on the soft, tender flesh of your inner thighs. He feels coming on your face is degrading to you, and if that’s something you’re into, it’s going to take a long conversation, maybe several for him to consider it.

Now, I have to thank @maybege for this one, because this wasn’t a thought I can take credit for, but I agree that he has a bit of a breeding kink, which you can read about in detail here.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He likes the borderline sacrilegious way he uses the Force on you. Maybe it’s because it doesn’t feel unhonoring to the Force. On the contrary, it’s times like these with you he feels singular to the Light in a way that isn’t replicated anywhere else, doing anything else. So the way he holds you down with it, touches what his busy hands can’t reach? The way he melds your minds into one, your thoughts bonding in imitation to your bodies?

It’s against the Jedi code to be attached, but the longer he’s with you, the more he’s intimate with you, he begins to wonder if Love and Light aren’t sometimes one and the same.

(My trademark is beginning to be Smutty Premise but Make It Feelings, prime example above. I have too many feelings about this man. )

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

SO much debate regarding this one, and I could see it both ways. Maybe he’s adhered to the Jedi Code to the strictest degree. But if I’m real? That charming, flirtatious confidence about him? I don’t think that comes from a man who hasn’t had at least a few attachment-free lovers before. Regardless, with his ability to discern so well and quite literally read your mind if you consent to it, he knows how to get you right where you need to be.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He’s happy to mix it up, try new things, different angles, but his favorties are anything where

He can see your face, press his lips to your mouth or neck

He can touch other parts of you: fist a hand in your hair, drag his knuckles down your stomach, play with the sensitive flesh of yours that longs for his attention

He can penetrate you as deeply as possible

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Just like in the rest of life, he’s more serious, but that dry wit is right under the surface, ready to bubble up when the moment is right. If you’re the one to be a little goofy? It depends on his mood. Sometimes, he’ll chuckle against you, fondness flooding his face. Other times, he’ll shoot you a stern look that shoots right below your stomach because. He’s not playing silly games tonight, but your body shivers in anticipation for the game he does want to play.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Well kept, trimmed, darker than the coppery tresses on his head and face. He shyly, secretly loves it when you decide to kiss down the trail of it that starts below his navel.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s a romantic. One of the most authentic ones to ever grace the galaxy, kept tightly maintained under serenity and his reserved demeanor. But when he has the outlet for it, when he’s with you behind closed doors, all the affection he can’t display in public is bottled up, just waiting to pull you into his arms and show you everything you’ve both missed.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I don’t think he’s one to do it much. The man hardly gets enough sleep and I’m pretty sure Cody is the only reason he remembers to eat half the time, and doing things for himself is hardly his forte. Seldom he’s desperate enough for the sleep, and he’ll indulge just for the release. Or when the ache of missing you is heavy in the front of his mind.

But once. You asked him to. While you watched.

Normally so put together, so in charge of himself, he flushed head to toe, but obliged you all the same, quirking an eyebrow in challenge.

Let’s just say you couldn’t help but add your hands and mouth shortly after.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Besides the slight breeding kink already discussed,

Praise Kink, both exuberantly giving and reluctantly receiving

Dom/Sub vibes, mostly for the trust element. While I agree that he has some serious switch! Energy, I think he leans heavily into being a Dom. (all under the condition of lots of conversation because: consent king!) Loves watching you squirm under his husky commands, adores the way you clench harder around him when he calls you “little one,” how you just become so open in countenance and body when he pins you against the wall or the bed, how startlingly fast you become aroused when he takes your chin between his fingers, forcing your gaze up to his.

Biting/marking. Possessiveness isn’t something he fosters nor appreciates, but when he gets to mark you, your skin carrying the discoloration of where his mouth loved you lavishly, something deep in him sparks. He felt awful, the first time he saw it, and you had to reassure him profusely that you wanted it, that you craved the proof of the love you two had to keep secret. And the scratches between his shoulders? The bites into his clavicle? Well, his body is littered in scars he couldn’t be more indifferent about, but those he will treasure

Overstimulation, see U for Unfair

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s a private man, so anywhere he knows you two won’t be interrupted.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You. Sometimes it’s as simple as the way you laugh, and he somewhat hates how his body decides to take that innocent cue. Sometimes it’s the way your clothes fit, either tightly accentuating or loosely alluding to.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything you say no to. Again, Consent King, and he won’t ever cross a line. For him personally, he won’t ever do anything that will seriously hurt you, even if you’d ask. He just couldn’t ever lay a hand on you that way.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Preference is definitely giving, and you were monstrously unprepared for how amply his tongue and lips deliver pleasure.

After convincing him that, yes, I want to do that, and he lets you get your mouth on him, he’s a mess. This is where you get to grate against the unwavering wall of his self-discipline, urging out the sinful noises he makes, even as he cuts them short, even as his knuckles turn white in tight fists in their fight against the sea of sensation. He has to shut his eyes. Because when he opens them? When he sees your lips stretched around him, swallowing down what you can? He’s not going to withstand that for as long as he wants.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It again depends on his mood. Either. Both. But his unshakable patience is certainly best suited for slow and sensual. Deep thrusts. Thorough kisses. Languid movement of his hips.

Although. You will never forget the first time he bent you over the nearest surface and took you from behind.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If a quickie is all there’s time for, he’ll concede on it, but he certainly prefers when he gets to take his time with you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Depends on what. If it’s getting caught, he’s likely to not, since too much is at stake. He’s willing to hear you out, within reason, but he’s always the voice of reason, tending to not do anything seriously risky. Although for experimenting, he’s such an inquisitive man, loving to learn, that he’s willing to try new things as long as they’re at least somewhat grounded.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Um. Um. Jedi thrive on stamina and patience, and Obi-Wan’s chosen lightsaber form (which he’s been deemed the master of), is based on the principle of stamina and outlasting your opponent. So, take that for what it’s worth.

Hint: it’s worth a LOT.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Don’t imagine he’s much for toys, he prefers to imitate whatever sensation via the Force or with his body.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Heh.

TEASE.

THE WORST OF THEM.

THAT SMIRK? IT HAS A REASON.

It’s the only thing he’ll do in public, touch you with a tendril of energy when he’s across the room. Plant an impression of a thought against your mind.

And when he has you to himself?

Overstimulation. Teasing you to the brink and back sometimes. Sometimes letting you fall over the edge again and again, your body trembling and aching, overwhelmed at his pointed, too-knowing attentions.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not loud, but he tries to muffle his moans when they slip, but he can’t always catch them, and he stops trying so hard when he learns how much you love his noises.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

When he learns how much his voice impacts you, he’s thinking of the next thing he can whisper to you the next time he gets you alone. It’s where his mind just lives any moment he has to spare.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Welp. I’m gonna try to be classy here.

Someone said somewhere on this website (I lost the post somewhere, please let me know if anyone finds it!) that he has the politest BDE ever, and that’s the funniest truest thing.

Maybe it’s the way he sits with his legs spread, maybe it’s the way he caries himself.

(Or maybe it’s the way we know Ewan isn’t shy in his nude scenes for a reason)

But yeah.

I can’t imagine he’s anything except just factually acknowledging of it, but the way you react to it? Well, if he feels just a little prideful at that, no one needs to know that except him.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It’s pretty tied to you. He’s gone years without, but when he has you, it’s awakened a kind of hunger he feels barely equipped to handle.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Depends on the situation. Usually, your hours together tend to be limited, and he wants to savor it. But he also loves the feeling of resting, your body against his. The deep sleep he gets just being with you usually takes him hours of meditating to achieve.

#Obi-Wan Kenobi #obi wan kenobi #obi-wan #obi wan #obi-wan X reader #obi wan x reader #Obi-wan Kenobi X Reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan x you #obi wan x you #obi-wan alphabet #obi-wan kenobi alphabet #obi-wan kenobi smut #obi-wan smut #star wars alphabet

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dianapocalypse · 3 years

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so I’m having a very interesting (for me) mass effect legendary edition playthru and i wanna talk about it even tho no one but me will be interested so UNDER THE CUT WE GO!

this probably isn’t interesting to anyone but me but I wanted to write it down for posterity lol

so this time around, I spent a LONG TIME staring at the character creator, not even making anything. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to make my ‘main’ Shepard, play Jane just for the new model in ME1, or make a new Shep entirely. and if I did the last one, did I want to play differently this time??

i ended up making a shepard that was PRETTY similar to my main one. they’re both vanguards (didn’t want to learn a new kit bc my ability to hold a controller is pretty limited these days), both earthborn, same haircut but different overall appearances. this time I went war hero instead of sole survivor, since I’ve played those sidequests so many times at this point. I hit start and named her Kieran, not really knowing what I was going for with this shep and expecting I’d mostly make the same choices, romance garrus, etc

so the first few hours of the game I played p much like I always do. more paragon options than usual, but I attribute that more to me changing than character choices. I also started picking the middle options I always ignore just to see what they are. grabbed Liara, did bring down the sky, nothing new or unusual until I start talking to garrus.

is it just me, or does garrus.... kinda hit different in 2021? don’t get me wrong, still one of my favorite fictonal characters of all time, but also... garrus is a loose canon police officer who thinks regulations that, presumably, are in place to protect peoples’ rights, should be ignored for what he deems is the greater good. while we as players know garrus’s morals are in the right place, uh... if I met someone like that in real life I’d expect them to be a complete jackass. im also american so that contributes to my ill feelings towards police officers, and c-sec in the games is generally portrayed as being a much less awful organization than the american police state, but I’ve definitely gone from always supporting Garrus when he thinks a fucker needs to die to being like... garrus rules are there for a reason, people have RIGHTS

and then like. kieran shepard is earthborn, she was in gangs. she... probably doesn’t like cops either? my last shep was, too, but tbh I didn’t think about it all that much. for the first time I’m playing a shepard that does not trust garrus and that’s WILD.

so then I’m doing sidequests on the citadel, and earthborns get a gang member from their past who tries to blackmail shep into busting one of their members out of prison. for the first time ever, I actually didn’t have the paragon or renegade points necessary to resolve the situation in a ‘good’ way for me. I got to the end of it, and my only options were to bribe him to leave me alone, or shoot him.

i’ll say in my defense, I thought shoot him would be more ‘shoot him in the leg to show him i meant business’, but shep straight up killed him, and I was like, woah. I’m gonna have to figure out how to make THAT work with this character arc!

and the turian cop who he wants you to talk to, he’s right there, and says “wow, I guess maybe the first human spectre will get things done!’ or something, indicating like. that was the Right Thing To Do by his standards. just kill a dude in public for threatening blackmail.

so in role playing games, i try to justify decisions my characters make, even if it’s a decision that I didn’t make on purpose--it’s more fun for me to try to gather these disparate character choices and cohere them into a character than to try to get it ‘right’ for the character i’m playing, if that makes sense. so here, even tho I was definitely not intending to kill that dude, I wanted to find a way to make it work for Kieran Shepard. and it’s kinda ended up shaping the whole way I’m playing her, and it’s cool and interesting bc this is a shepard unlike any I’ve played before! i’m always so focused on min/maxing my character, especially their paragon/renegade points to get the ‘best’ outcomes, that ive never been faced with something like that.

so I think this is where I’ve landed:

Kieran Shepard grows up on the streets, she does not trust authority. all she has is her crew, and herself, more importantly. she does some bad shit, she gets into trouble, she’s strong-headed and stubborn. later in life, she gets recruited to the alliance military. frankly, I think she keeps a lot of the same attitude and distrust of authority, but this is a paycheck, and I think since the Tenth Street Reds are getting really human supremacist and xenophobic, she gets out and needs to go Somewhere that her past won’t follow her--space. off earth.

mostly she’s a shithead at first. gets into trouble with the brass all the time. but she’s got a really good head for tactics. she knows how to think like a merc gang, she thinks of strategies in simulations that higher ups wouldn’t ever consider. think like. star trek 2009 captain kirk basically lmao.

and then anderson gets a hold of her. for the first time in her life, she has like, a Parental Figure, someone who knows she can do better and expects her to. and she FLOURISHES. suddenly she’s got motivation, she’s straightening up. she’s positioned on elysium and the skyllian blitz starts, and one thing she knows how to do, something she’s always been good at, it surviving, and rallying people around her to fight, not roll over and die. her skills from her life as a gangster marry with her skills as a soldier and she rallies the colonists to beat back the invasion. with her STREET SMARTS!

now she’s a war hero, and she’s starting to feel the impostor syndrome set in. she gets a medal, she gets accolades, promotions--she’s just a scrappy former criminal and she doesn’t deserve this. she doesn’t deserve any of it, or anderson’s regard. she starts spending her time trying to be The Perfect Soldier to make up for her past. for the first time, it’s a point of embarrassment to her, not a point of pride. it’s public record, sure, but she needs her entire existence to refute it. she needs to be Commander Shepard now, she needs to be The First Human Spectre, she needs to be PERFECT.

and then Finch shows up, and he’s threatening her, he wants to drag her back into the Life and he’ll blackmail her if she doesn’t comply. she knows if she bribes him he’ll be back in a month for more, he’ll never stop. so she panics. she shoots this guy, kills him in cold blood, in public. old habits die hard. and the cop practically CONGRATULATES her for it.

kieran, now, is in full blown panic mode about Who She Is. she is very much not a fan of the ‘law and order’ of C-Sec, but she’s also not a fan of the spectres and how they operate, but now she’s becoming the thing she as a teen would have hated the most. and she’s being congratulated for it. can she be trusted with this kind of responsibility?? can anyone???

anyway that’s the last thing I did but I think... honestly? the only character that could help her sort out these feelings? is kaidan alenko.

so. i think this is it. this is the playthru i finally romance kaidan.

#mass effect #mass effect legendary edition #kaidan alenko #this post is long as fuck but i promise he's in there #kieran shepard tag

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pinnochiro · 3 years

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pinn reviews - final fantasy xv

a long ramble about final fantasy fifteen that sort of looks like a review, as written by someone who finished the game fifteen minutes ago and needs to get these words out of his head. spoilers inbound.

i'm a pretty big fan of video games. i don't know what my first was, but it was probably either banjo and kazooie or mario kart 64, at my cousin's house when i was very small. i think that video games as a medium are so interesting, since the fact that video games are inherently interactive changes the way that they tell any story. it's a shame that despite loving video games so much, i'm absolutely terrible at them.

i'm absolute dogshit at video games. whenever i boot up something new, i always play on easy mode because. i'm that bad. unfortunately, this means that a lot of video games are simply. impossible for me to beat. that's fine, as at the moment i live with my good friend lizz, who is certifiably Good at Video Games, and so we've been playing video games together for a little bit now. typically this means that she will actually play the majority of the game while i sit with her and watch, but occasionally i'll have a go, but she'll end up with the controller as soon as a boss fight or puzzle or a mechanic i just can't seem to grasp shows up. we recently played through the entirety of the kingdom hearts series together, and this was an absolute blast of a time. i'm glad to say that i adore kingdom hearts now, and it's become one of my hyperfixations, which you might be able to tell from my icon. but we'd finished the kingdom hearts series, and we were left to move onto something else. we'd also played final fantasy 7 remake, so in my wisdom, i suggested that we play another final fantasy game.

we looked through the ff games that were already purchased on our consoles thanks to lizz's uncle, and eventually, we decided that we should play. all of them. however to start, we were going to play final fantasy xv, 15, and work our way backwards through the mainline, single-player games.

i'd heard that xv wasn't very good, but honestly, i was still quite curious. one person who i'd been following on twitter for years was pretty obsessed with the main party members, to the point where i knew their names and what-not even though i didn't have much of an idea what the game itself was about. i remember watching a video by supereyepatchwolf a few years ago about how the game sucked, but i couldn't remember much of the details, and i knew, based on my obsession with kingdom hearts, that xv had started as a different game called final fantasy versus xiiv. i don't know all the details about versus thirteen, but i do know that it was originally helmed by the creator of my beloved kingdom hearts, mr tetsuya nomura, and that after many years, the vast majority of the game was thrown out, nomura wasn't in charge any more, and the whole thing was rewritten and reworked, which sounds like a fairly rough development cycle. but so what, i don't care about gameplay. i want to play the video game with those cute guys that i see fanart of on twitter, and lizz seemed happy enough to play through it with me.

and so we started final fantasy xv. i've been told that since the game was practically dead on arrival, they threw in a bunch of new content and reworked a lot of the early game before i got my hands on it. so my gameplay started with a scene of the four guys fighting some demon dude on fire and they're all old and grotty. whatever, that cutscene ends and we're put into a combat tutorial. that's over and we're on the road in what looks to be central america, pushing a car.

our four leading lads are noctis, the prince of the lucis empire, his best friend prompto, his bodyguard, gladio, and his chef and other things, ignis. i do quite like the main four members of the party in xv. prompto is quite easily my favourite, voiced by robbie daymond of goro akechi fame and with a bunch of fun little animations and quips that make him very likeable. he gets extremely excited at the idea of riding chocobos and has what i considered the best scene of the game, where he and noctis meet on a motel rooftop and discuss prompto's imposter syndrome, since he's only part of noctis' official retinue as his best friend. noctis is a fairly typical main protagonist, he's in love with a woman he hasn't seen in eight years and needs to go marry her or something, i don't care. gladio is a tough macho man with a mullet who wears leather jackets and wields a greatsword, and is apparently only 22, which is at least 10 years younger than i assumed. ignis is a strategist and chef, who takes on the most authoritative role and constantly tells noctis to not drive his car at night. i was not a fan of ignis at the start, but he grew on me, especially with how hard the game hit me with his personal arc. the four boys are off, driving to noctis' wedding in a different country across the desert when their car breaks down. we then run into the first issue of the game.

cindy is a mechanic. she also has her ass and tits out constantly, like your sleazy uncle's shirt with a naked woman was instead semi-alive as a video game person. she fixes your car and acts fairly sexual and it's just like. why do we have to do this. aren't we over overtly sexualised women in video games who have no reason for the way they dress other than the character designer was horny? whatever, i like women as much as the next guy, but cindy's design just. makes me feel so uncomfortable.

anyways you get to do a little driving around with the boys, until you stay the night before catching the boat to your fiance. overnight, you find out that noctis' kingdom has been basically destroyed by an invading empire called niflheim, and practically everyone noctis knows, including his father, are dead. you learn that noctis and his bride to be are also assumed dead, with noctis hearing his own death announcement on the radio. the game has a bunch of added cutscenes that are actually footage from the three-hour-long prequel movie that came out after the game, are extremely hard to follow and honestly i had no idea what i was looking at. anyways, noctis' family is dead, so it's time to do some hunting sidequests.

that brings us to the combat, i suppose. rather than the turn-based or even active turn-based combat that the series is known for, xv opts for more modern action rpg-styled combat. i was, naturally, terrible at this, but i managed to get around it with the fact that. it is almost impossible to die in this video game, provided you have enough items. the game allows you so much time to heal yourself that there's practically no way to have your entire party wipe unless you're doing absolutely terrible, and even then, your party members will probably try and heal you themselves before that happens. lizz tells me that the combat is boring, you just push the same button over and over and then you win. i do appreciate that, for someone like me who is terrible at reading enemy movements, there is a giant button that pops up on screen that tells you when to push the block button, but even then i was prone to fucking it up. whether that's the bad game design or my terrible gaming abilities is up to you to decide. anyways, the game is fairly easy but has annoying combat, your teammates limit breaks will only land about 50% of the time (or never, if you are gladio) and i was still bad at it, so i didn't have all that much fun.

instead of an active levelling system, the game will only tally your character's level ups when you either make camp or visit a hotel. camping is, in my opinion, the only saving grace of this game. each time you make camp, you get to see the characters doing fun little camping activities together and just hanging out, ignis will cook up a new meal in a dramatic fashion and everyone will compliment him and eat it off their coleman's branded plates, it's just very fun. you also get to see what pictures prompto has taken, which is one of my favourite gameplay features. prompto's passion is photography, and while i support him in this wholeheartedly, his picture taking skills are, quite frankly, awful. the game will randomly take shots while you're on the move, which leaves you with a delightful selection of awkward poses, characters hidden behind bushes, pictures taken while someone is half-dead in combat, and snaps where the natural lighting absolutely makes it impossible to tell what's going on. it's hilarious and going through prompto's collection of photos each night is honestly the best part of the game. we managed to wind up with a few shots that, even despite being scripted events, turned out absolutely terrible, and i will cherish those forever.

anyways, since noctis' father and fiance are dead, that leaves him the king of lucis. the only important person to make it out of the capital alive tells you to drive to the middle of nowhere, where he randomly springs on you. hey. go into a bunch of these dungeons and absorb a bunch of swords, this is your destiny as king and how you will defeat the empire. noctis goes, uh, alright i guess, and you're set loose again to wander around for a bit collecting the 'royal arms'. this plot point wasn't explained well but hey, whatever, we're collecting the glowy swords and that's fine.

you're introduced at some point to ardyn, the main antagonist. he's old, kind of groady and wears a fedora. he's a dick to you and talks about his automobeeel. apparently my friend miri thinks he's hot, she is wrong.

i can't remember what happens specifically but you're told that your fiance is still alive and in fantasy venice, and she's talking to the gods on your behalf to borrow their powers. there's a mission where you follow some purple trees that are electric, and you do that i guess. i enjoyed riding the chocobos around, but couldn't care much for the plot at this point. ardyn leads you to a volcano, where you fight a giant lava god. he tries to step on you and i, a denizen of the internet and with an active fear of foot fetishists, was extremely uncomfortable. noctis becomes friends with foot man and a lightning god who lived in those trees, and ardyn steals your car.

very upset by this, noctis and his gang risk everything to sneak into a military base and steal it back. because this is a video game, this works out fine.

there's a little mining city which is all about Girl Power, because all the Women run the Mining Industry like Girl Bosses, and you hang around there for a bit. because all the women are so Empowered, they wear bikinis all the time with overalls over the top. gladio decides he needs to fuck off for a bit, i have no idea what he does since i haven't played the dlc, and then he comes back with another scar. you hang out with his sixteen year old sister, who has a crush on the engaged and 20-year old noctis, and then you drive her to a lighthouse. when she's in your party, she can't really fight, but she gets a pink chocobo and i thought that was very cute. we turned out own chocobo white and lizz named him 'jones' after a mount she has in ffxiv.

eventually, you have a long boat ride over to fantasy venice. this is the part where the game stops being 'fun with a few issues in combat and a rushed and poorly told story.' the open world, which was a main feature with a bunch of little areas to find where noctis can fish, little hunting sidequests and random photo spots where prompto takes touristy photos, is now gone, and it will not return for the entire rest of the game. you can 'go back in time', but the open world was the most enjoyable part of the game, and it kind of really sucks that the main story doesn't let you have any more freedom like that.

after arriving in fantasy venice, you have a talk with fantasy hillary clinton and beg her to let your girlfriend summon a god into the middle of her city. hillary agrees, and you don't get to meet up with your fiance, because even if the game is constantly telling you how much noctis loves her, there is. barely any interactions between the two in the entire game. from what i can tell, they met when noctis was a child and they haven't seen each other in ten years but are still fantasy dog pen-pals. noctis marrying her was supposed to make an alliance or something like that, but her brother has betrayed her to the army. noctis' girlfriend is also an oracle, which means she can heal people, i guess? everyone talks about how important she is and she's constantly telling people that she needs to use her powers to help noctis but she's practically a non-entity.

as can be expected of most female love interests in a game primarily focused on men, noctis' fiance is killed while summoning a god for noctis to befriend. noct gets very mad about this, and turns super saiyan and kills the god back, but his girlfriend is dead and that's super sad you guys. there's a beautiful prerendered cutscene where she says goodbye to noctis but since we barely know her, and we've only been told over and over that they're in love without anything to actually well, show this, it didn't have much of an impact. fantasy venice is destroyed, and ignis is blinded while trying to help calm the giant raging god.

iggy's blindness and how the game makes you account for this and grow to care for him was one of the highlights, in my opinion, as well as crushingly depressing. while i'm not disabled and have no right to say if this was 'good disabled representation' or anything like that, i believe that the game handles it decently enough. the group falls apart as noctis is upset about his girlfriend, gladio is extremely mad that noctis won't care for ignis, and prompto just wants everyone to get along. there's a mission where gladio constantly yells at you passive aggressive things to noctis about how he's a cunt for running, which is obnoxious, but the character arc itself is fairly strong. when you make camp, ignis can't cook anymore, so everyone eats cup noodles in a depressing ass cutscene. ignis remains in your party for the rest of the game despite his disability, and he doesn't magically regain his sight like other fantasy media would do, which at the very least i think is good. i'm not sure what the opinion of actual disabled people is of the character, considering how often disabled characters are either turned into misery porn to make the abled audience be glad that isn't them and if ignis' arc falls into this trap, but i hope that it wasn't handled too poorly, as that would just be another terrible mark in this game's list of bad moves.

the characters eventually make it to the evil empire's capital, which is abandoned and filled with daemons. the characters learn that ardyn is super evil and taught the king of the empire how to turn humans into daemons, which has now happened to the entire city. the 'magitek suits', presumed to be enchanted armour that fights as the empire's infantry, actually house the souls of the human-turned daemons. honestly i like this as a plot point but the game handles it pretty terribly. there could have been more lead up to this, the explanation is pretty lacking, and prompto's Big Plot Twist is. terribly handled. turns out that prompto was born in the empire and was going to be one of those empty soldier daemons, but he was rescued by people belonging to noctis' empire. not that the game tells you that. instead, prompto goes 'turns out i'm one of ... them' and Does Not Elaborate. The game doesn't tell you shit, not about prompto's past, not about how he feels about this, not about how anyone else feels about this either because the other party members just go 'oh that sucks, good thing you're not evil' and the scene ends. robbie daymond tries so hard to sell these terrible, terrible lines, and it almost entirely fails, i'm so sorry prompto. fortunately because i'm a nosy ass, i read prompto's wikia page and knew the plot twist ahead of time, because i don't think i would have even registered it if i didn't.

anyways everyone in the evil empire is dead and ardyn starts talking about how he's immortal and an ancient king of noctis' country but the gods thought he sucked because he's too evil. i missed most of this because the cats got the zoomies and were dashing across the couch right in the middle of his speech so i can't tell you anything else. noctis tries to get a big magic crystal to fight him and instead. gets schlorped inside.

TEN YEARS LATER

yes then ten years actually pass while noctis is asleep. the game shows this by switching the head on noctis' character model to have a beard, but that's it, no changes in animations or whatever. the sky is permanently night and only one human civilisation remains, the rest destroyed by daemons. as a plot point, this ends up feeling. extremely worthless. why was noctis asleep for ten whole goddamn years? so we can wake up and go 'damn it sucks out here'. but it's barely even a like, incentive to fix everything, because you have a long talk with a former child you were friends with where he talks about how humanity is still going fine and everyone's okay and the world has moved on without you. it feels. pointless. when you meet up with your party members, they are exactly as you left them, only with slightly different character models. there is no change in the voice performance, the character's movements or how they talk to show that they've been without you for ten years. they barely mention it. i'm just. so confused as to why they decided that a ten year timeskip was the way to go? since nothing really changes, couldn't you have made it like, two years? one year? six months?? have the characters react a little more? something??? at least if it was only a year or so i wouldn't have to deal with the fact that noctis looks like norman reedus with his shitty facial hair now.

anyways after that there's a bunch of long and boring boss fights. you fight some dead kings for some reason, your party members get a little bit to talk about how cool they are and how much they love noctis, and then you meet up with ardyn. there's another boring boss fight and god this was only a few hours ago but it's already gone from my head. you summon the gods and the old kings to beat the shit out of him after you both go super saiyan again? there's incredible music but it feels barely earned and just kind of eh. anyways, noctis dies, which was the price of using the crystal of light or whatever the fuck. his ghost marries his fiance's ghost finally, and they smile as they look at one of prompto's pictures. you can pick any picture you want to go here, and then the credits roll, showing all of the pictures you saved of prompto's shots. showing me all the pictures at the end is honestly lovely, but it really only served to remind me of how much more fun the game was in the first half. and that's the end, of final fantasy xv.

so what did i think of the story? it's terribly cobbled together and struggles to get you to feel anything and play out all the plot beats. you feel awful for the countless employees who spent years working on the beautiful cutscenes only to have them be in this game, which sucks and the story barely gets through. there were parts that i enjoyed, mostly the thing about the daemons being people, but honestly the rest of it is a mess. it's hard to follow at the best of times and just awkward and terribly written at the worst. the ending is cheap, and it doesn't feel like you've actually accomplished anything. i left that game feeling numb and empty, sad that i'd wasted so much time to end up with such a colossal failure of a conclusion.

i had fun with the game when it was my four little guys running around doing sidequests and camping together. after the midway point of the game, there's none of that, and you're bogged down into a plot that just pushes you from point a to point b and boring overlong bossfight to boring overlong bossfight. the character moments between your party are a lot of fun, but the second you hit fantasy venice, everything is pretty much on rails and you can't do anything except what the game tells you explicitly to do.

should you play this game? no lol. if anything i've mentioned about the story interests you, you'll be better off watching a lore video or reading the wiki. if you do want to play it after all that, just don't proceed after the myrthril refining quest, it's pretty much all downhill from there. will i play the dlc? unlikely, i think lizz and i will just watch a cutscene movie of those.

this game left me feeling empty and numb and not in a fun way. i wanted, so, so hard to like this game, and it all crashed around me in a beautifully overproduced and confusingly written cascade. i love you prompto, but even your cute little freckly face and terrible photography can't save this trainwreck of a game.

tl;dr - final fantasy xv sucks. i hope that 13, our next ff game, will be better.

#ramble #review type thing #did you read all of this? im impressed #i did not proofread #so if its a mess #just pretend thats a meta commentary about the game itself #i wrote this for like an hour trying to understand the feelings this game gave me #final fantasy xv

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rendezvousrenjun · 4 years

Text

party 4-2 | l.jeno

↬ due to unfortunate circumstances, you and jeno have to pretend to date at a party, the only problem is that both of you have suppressed feelings for one another and can’t seem to admit it.

fluff + angst | 5.5k words | beware! cussing, suggestive themes, mentions of cheating and drinking :(

(a/n: happy jeno day! this was originally a request with : fake dating + #5,6,&12, but i got quite carried away! Italic dialogue indicates flashback. hope you enjoy <3)

Jeno’s grip around the leather steering wheel tightened like the knot that built at the pit of his stomach. On his wrist was a watch that seemed to tick too slow, or too fast-- he really didn’t know. He did know that he was parked in front of your apartment complex. And before he was parked in front of your home, he had cleaned up the front seats so that there was enough space for you to move your feet around or place your bag down. He wasn’t necessarily messy, but in front of you he was always a klutz.

He shifts around, checking his car mirrors and pressing the light on and off, pretending he was Batman sending a signal, before taking a deep breath.

“I’m glad we were both hired, huh Jeno?” You had been sitting at the metal break room table, already dressed in your denim apron and matching hat. Tapping your foot excitedly, eyebrows raised at him as he got ready himself for your first shift together. He was tying up the loose ends of his apron behind him, smiling at you softly. “Turn around.” You got up to help him, impatiently excited to work at your new job as a barista.

You gingerly took the denim around his waist, making sure you were gentle as you tied it in a secure knot.

He vividly recollects how he had to look away from you, scared of his flushed ears making an appearance. It was a small gesture, but despite being friends with you for so long, every little thing you did made him fall for you even more.

That was your first job. The both of you experienced it together. And now Jeno and you were going to attend your first college party together too.

Seeing your shadow peeking around the corner he was aware of your presence. It retreats in hesitation in and out of view, until it makes a clear decision to approach him. He counts in his head the number of steps you take until you’ve arrived in front of him. On the outside he’s composed, calm, refined but on the inside-- well. Don’t worry about it.

“Yes??”

At the time, he was studying (more of using his phone to play a game) at the student library, which you knew you could find him at. He knew that you could find him here too.

You swivel a seat from the side, dragging it to place it beside him. He closes the book he mindlessly pretended to be reading slowly, as if to absorb whatever context it may have had.

“So Mark invited me to this party…” you start, mind zoning out slightly when Jeno’s gaze meets yours and you take notice of the eyelash under his glasses’ lens, “wait you have an eyelash.”

He closes his eyes and let's you sweep it off his cheek before continuing, “so Mark’s party… what about it?”

“Well,” the warmth of your fingertip leaves his face and he has to pretend like his heart isn't irregularly beating because of you, “you know I haven't been to like an actual, you know, party and I always hear crazy stories about getting your drink spiked and whatnot and I don't know if I wanna go alone, you catch my drift?”

“Mmm I kind of catch your drift, but also-- so you don't want to go to Mark's party anymore?”

“Not necessarily! I do want to go, it's just I don't want to go alone. I think it would be safer to go with someone.”

“Why don't you ask Ryujin to go with you? Then you guys could even get ready together, isn't that fun?”

“That does sound fun… but..”

“But what?”

You press your lips together, “I think I would feel safer going with you, I don't know.”

“All you had to do was ask directly bro.” He rolls his eyes at you jokingly, putting his stuff back into his backpack.

He knew you must've been excited. It was Mark who had asked you after all. And Mark Lee’s place was the designated party house known on campuses that weren’t even yours.

So why was he anxious now? It’s just a party. A party where you two go together. It's not like you two were dating.

He presses a button to turn the radio on, trying to zone out instead.

The knock on his passenger seat window brings him out of his internal monologue. He unlocks the door. When you enter, so does the intoxicating smell of your perfume.

“Jeno!!” you climb into the seat next to him, double checking if the door is locked.

He lowers the volume a bit and turns the keys, moving his head to look at you. His heart twinges a bit at the sight of you. He wants to tell you you’re gorgeous, but he swallows his words before they could surpass his lips.

“y/n!!” he says instead, “are you excited!?” To which you respond back by shaking your head vigorously. “Okay, let’s have fun.”

He starts up the car and glances at you again. “Wait y/n seat-belt.”

“Oh yea,” you pull on the strap a bit recklessly which causes it to jam, “just a second” you retract it back and try to pull it again but it stops, “this seat-belt is playing with me let me try it this again--” Jeno sighs and unbuckles his own. You look over to him as he reaches over your shoulder, causing your head to look up at an angle so he could fix it for you. The close proximity makes your stomach uneasy and you could feel the tips of his strands of hair light brush over your neck. When you hear the click, you face Jeno again, a smile creeping up your face out of nerves. He smiles back at you before finding his place back to the steering wheel.

Funnily enough he’s less nervous now that you are actually with him, comfortable to be in your company. The night sky was a clear blue-black, like a large obsidian stone glazed over your heads. There was a thrill that came with being in Jeno’s roughed up car, memories upon memories laying in here. You roll the window down a bit to catch the light evening breeze, closing your eyes to feel it against your skin.

“What if I do this move on the dance floor?” you open your eyes and start shaking your head vigorously, not matching with the rhythm of the song playing, your hands make micro-movements as if you were doing the robot, “don’t you think I’ll charm everyone there?”

Jeno glances at you quick, his eyebrow perched a little higher in expectancy to see something graceful but instead he bursts out laughing, choking a bit at the sight of you, “you’re going to get us into an accident with those possessed moves I-” he continues to laugh, his chest heaving up and down as he tries to concentrate on the road, “that’s something Donghyuck would do.”

“You’re right my neck is getting sore,” you wrap your hand around it, “oh talking about Donghyuck, did you hear his story about that time he jumped off the roof at one of Mark’s parties?”

“No way Donghyuck doesn’t have the balls to do that-”

“Hey it was a Mark party, anything can happen. But I doubt it’s true.”

“Yea…” Jeno makes a right turn, “his bones would’ve been broken the next day in class, a little suspicious that he came in fine in my opinion. But then again, didn’t Hendery break Mark’s light fixture in the living room? Mark posted it on his story that one time remember?”

“That’s so wild dude… I hope nothing bad happens.”

“Same, I’m getting drained just thinking about it.”

“But you know what? This is good! We should just experience a party like this at least once in our prime time aye Jeno?” You nudge him lightly on his thigh earning a “mmm” back.

Jeno changes the music station, forgetting he has an aux cord. Mark’s house in the hills is still miles away, numerous drugstores and fast food restaurants passing your car swiftly.

“Wait Jeno can I put this emergency sandwich in your car compartment?” The two of you are nearing a red light.

“Your what now?” he glances at you during the stop to find you already opening it up, “oh gosh please dont forget it like the emergency cookies or the emergency juice box.”

You shut the compartment, squishing down the bread so it fit. “But you still ate them didn’t you!? Like after five months when you were starving for a snack so they did have a purpose in the end!”

You turn your head back to him and the bright light turns green, placing an ethereal glow upon you. He subconsciously begins to smile.

“Okay you have a point, you have a point.”

You two are able to hear the house before you can even see it. You honestly believed parties like the ones Mark Lee hosts only existed in the movies. But they seem to also exist in the two-story rented house he and his roommate Yuta often rented for occasions like these. You always wondered how he learned such a skill, but that’s a secret he’ll never tell.

As Jeno rolls up the hill’s parking lot, steering with the both of his palms in order to parallel park between the abundance of cars and others attending, the villa’s full picture comes into view. The house is decorated with out-of-style Christmas lights and is painted an awful bright green color, the grass on the front lawn artificial with fake red and purple plants poking out wherever people didn’t step. Such a huge estate turned into a fun house could only be the doing of its occupants and host.

Once parked, Jeno clambers outside to open the door for you. “Do you need me to help you with your seatbelt again?”

“Damn Jeno, what a fine gentleman like you are, they don’t make em like you anymore.” you joke with him, laughing at his unamused face. He slams the car door back on you, the sound of you laughing muffling out as he starts walking to the entrance slowly.

“Hey!” he smiles to himself hearing your shoes clank with the cement to catch up to him. He turns his head to look back and your hand runs through his hair aggressively, messing up the overall shape molded from the gel. He sticks his tongue at you and enlarges his nostrils in false annoyance, not bothering to fix himself up anymore.

The huge wooden doors are already wide open, red solo cups littered amongst the sides of it and a welcome mat that says “kool kids only” beneath your feet. You guys walk in and already there's a certain mood established within the vicinity. As if the world around you has been thrown into a slow motion montage of every party scene in coming-of-age movies. The light fixture has since been replaced to a disco ball, the walls splattering with neon lights which your eyes had to adjust to after a while. Jeno pats your arm and points out the huge stereo system against the broken window that allowed some air to be pushed in amongst all the sweaty bodies. People were already resting their arms against the staircase railings, despite it only being nine o’clock. The glitter and extravagance of it all was fresh and unlike any other party you have attended.

You make sure not to lose sight of Jeno as you guys move closer to the crowd. “Where do you think Mark is?”

“Probably in the bathroom!” the music and people talking start to drown out your voices. Jeno starts to push through the crowd in order to get to the kitchen or dining room, struggling to not get stuck in between. You use your elbows as a way to distance yourself from people who are getting too close to your liking, but before you know it Jeno is no longer in arm’s reach.

“Jeno!” you shimmy through the bodies making you a bit uncomfortable with how many people have already touched you while passing. He turns back to wait for you and when you finally make your way beside him he lightly lays his hand on your waist.

“Hey be careful where you’re going.” He doesn’t let go of you until you’ve cleared through the main hall.

There’s an entire spread of food on the counters. How does anyone afford this much food? The takeout trays are layed out with serving spoons and paper plates have been carelessly placed in one corner, whereas the actual utensils are in the other. If there was one thing Jeno and you have heard about Mark’s parties aside from the crazy shit that goes down, it would be the food.

Seeing it finally in front of you, the both of you let out a small gasp in sync. Huge smiles making their way to your lips. Jeno is already grabbing you two plates.

“Did you bring the ziplocs?” he hands you your plate while you two make your way to the first tray.

“It’s like you read my mind.” You reveal the ziploc bags in your handbag with a grin of confirmation. He holds them open for you as you begin to pour in the dry snacks first. “We’re like partners in crime right now.”

He wishes you were partners in general.

“Well, well, well looks like you two are ripping me off! I caught you red handed!” Mark grabs a chip from the tray, cutting in between you and Jeno. “The look on your faces is priceless! Like you’ve been caught red-handed!” Mark starts going into a giggling frenzy indicating he’s a little tipsy. That and the smell off his clothes. “Aren’t my parties the best??” He points over to the bowl in the center, “have you tried the punch? Wait a second--”

His facial expression changes, scanning you both up and down as if he was playing a game of spot the difference. He points at the both of you repeatedly as the two of you stand there dumbfounded at what connection he made.

“You” he points at Jeno, “and you” he points at you squinting his eyes hard, “why didn’t you tell me you guys are dating?”

Now he’s done it. Mark released the bomb that you and Jeno have not been able to discuss. The two of you flare up in red, ready to argue and instantly defend that that’s not what’s going on. Well, you were ready. Until both you and Jeno see your ex heading over your direction.

Jung Wooyoung.

Jeno will forever remember your ex boyfriend. The three of you had been good friends before you got together. He introduced you two, unknowing of what was going to happen amongst you guys. It was on a Monday night, where the coffee shop wasn’t as busy and that night both of your shifts had matched up.

Wooyoung had pushed open the glass door instead of pulling it, yelling “Jeno!! That door was playing with my feelings!!” as soon as he entered. But Jeno wasn’t at the cash register. It was you.

Wooyoung had heard about you of course. You were the cute girl who Jeno always talked about. He had seen your pictures with him on Instagram, but he didn’t know you were this beautiful in real life.

“I’m gonna ask y/n out.” He had told Jeno after a couple weeks of the three of you hanging out more frequently. “It’s not like you like her right? You only told me you thought she was cute.”

Jeno didn’t know how to respond at that time. He didn’t want to ruin anything for the two of you. But he was sure Wooyoung already knew how he felt. How he has felt for you for a long time.

“You don’t need to tell me, she’s her own person. She can make whatever decision she wants.”

Jeno remembered Wooyoung asking you out in front of everyone in that damn cafe. He remembered how bashful you got and how you had to cover your face in embarrassment. He tried getting over you then. No matter how much you two tried to include him when hanging out it always ended with him going home first.

But then the fights came. He didn’t know if it was because you weren’t what Wooyoung totally pictured in his head, or if the two of you just weren’t as compatible as you thought.

Safe to say, the break up was not pretty.

You were late to your shift that day. Jeno had checked his watch a couple times within the hour. When you finally entered, you came in silence, not sparing him a glance, eyes glued to the floor all the way to the back.

And he remembers. He remembers keeping an eye on how you were doing. You were desperately trying to tie your apron around your waist, but he could hear you sniffing despite your back facing him. He went back to making drinks, usually minding his own business when it came to your personal problems within your relationship with Wooyoung. But while making a drink he heard you crash to the floor and immediately checked the back to see you sobbing on the floor. Your apron never got tied. Your knees seemed as if they were being hammered down bit by bit, your body collapsing within itself. Your sobbing made his own heart breaking into pieces at the sight of yours being torn apart.

He places his arms around your back, embracing you in a way where he didn’t see your face. He crouches so that he resembles a blanket wrapped around you. “What happened?” His voice is scared to speak.

“Wooyoung” your voice is jagged and choked up, “h-he was in bed.” the more you wail, the more Jeno squeezes your back, the rhythm of his heartbeat pressed against you to calm you down. “With someone else--”

Jeno couldn’t believe it. Wooyoung couldn’t do that. He refused to believe his good friend could ever cheat. How shitty, vile, disgusting. He can’t believe it. Not his Wooyoung.

Jeno doesn’t know that Wooyoung chased after you and saw you two on the floor. He observed the two of you holding each other. He snickered to himself, unbelieving. The answer was always in front of him all along. He left without a word or appearance.

It hadn’t registered within your head that Wooyoung was within ten feet of you two again.

“Well?” Mark’s voice raises in excitement, eyeing the two of you. You eye Jeno, searching his face for some sort of response, not knowing what to do in this moment. You’re stuck.

Jeno finally looks down at your face, frozen and afraid of confrontation. Wooyoung is getting closer to the three of you. Fuck it. Jeno wraps his arm around your shoulder, causing you to defrost under his touch. “Sorry we didn’t tell you Mark.” Jeno smiles at him stiffly, then you wrap your arm around his waist.

“Yes.” You say in strong confirmation. Wooyoung is now in ear-shot. “Jeno and I are together.” The word “together” falls out of your mouth effortlessly and proud. Wooyoung stops walking towards you guys. He stands around the corner diagonal to you and pretends to be absorbed in the punch Mark was talking about earlier.

“Wow! Finally! I knew you guys were going to end up together eventually, I was hoping Jeno would eventually let you know how he feels.” Mark pats Jeno’s shoulder, the expression like a proud father, “well Ima go, see you lovebirds around.”

Jeno starts to free you from his tender grip, but you keep his waist glued to you. He gets the message and moves in front of you and grabs the counter behind you so that Wooyoung is unable to see you from his back. Under his gaze the blush runs from your face to places unseen. After saying something as bold as that things are never going to be the same. After hearing what Mark said, every moment has become unrelentingly uneasy, but in a flustering, butterfly-inducing type of way. You stammer as you bring yourself close to Jeno’s ear, holding the nape of his neck to whisper, “thank you Jeno.”

His hot breath runs chills down your shoulders, “of course.”

“Is it okay if we pretend we’re together for the rest of the night? Play it safe?”

Jeno takes a deep breath, you can tell he’s reluctant at first, before he breathes out in what resembles a soft sigh, “deal. Just make sure you remember to take back your emergency sandwich by tonight.”

Your laughter flourishes up into Jeno’s ear, your head moving back to your prior position. You lightly push his shoulder that doesn’t budge as he continues to adore you and silently laugh with you.

Wooyoung walks away from the scene.

You end up pushing Jeno’s shoulders so that he could lead the way. The two of you navigate a couch lodged in a corner in one of the living spaces upstairs. It was less chaotic than downstairs, but the couch still had oddly suspicious stains all over it, and people were still getting wasted. You plop him down onto the couch first, holding his shoulders, until he takes ahold of your forearm to take you down with him.

Hours are spent talking about anything and everything, your head finding its way on Jeno’s shoulder as he takes out his phone to show you a game he started to play recently. When you talked, the bottom of your jaw tickled but he didn’t ask you to remove it. You press your nose into his shirt, your voice muffled, “do you smell that?”

“Smell what? The alcohol?”

“Yea, everyone is getting wasted, the smell is really pungent.”

“Do you want to drink? I’m going to be driving so you can if you want.”

“I want to, but you know I shouldn’t, and you shouldn’t be letting me because remember last time I tried to and then..gosh.”

“Ohhh yea the banana--” you clamp his mouth shut with your palm and raise your hand to look at him seriously.

“That’s enough of that Lee Jeno.”

He playfully protrudes his lips out so that he kisses the inside of your palm, making you retract it in surprise. He just laughs at you trying to wipe it off on his pants instead of your own. You look at him, an expression that is supposed to show how annoyed you are supposedly being there (spoiler: you just looked funny to him).

After catching his breath from laughing at you he slips, “Man, I didn’t drink but why do I feel so drunk on you?”

Realizing what he had said, suddenly both of you are silent, awkwardly glancing around the room fighting off the feelings that have been slowly seeping out bit by bit throughout the night.

“Maybe I do need a drink” you mutter under your breath, fanning yourself. He takes the hand that you’re using to fan yourself, your palms now sweaty from the skin contact.

“y/n, do you want to dance with me?”

And on that note, the two of you clumsily made your way downstairs.

Jeno thought he would always be the second lead in your life. The one who never gets the girl no matter how much he likes her. But the thing was, he was fine with being your friend. He thought he could probably go his whole life without needing to be with you romantically because he cared more about you as a person in general. Whatever made you happy made him happy. But what if he made you happy? What would he do then?

Now that the two of you were busting it down on the dance floor, gracefully or not, he realized that tonight this was just a party for the two of you. A party for two. You take his hand and twirl him around in circles and he starts swaying his hips to the beat.

“Dammmnnnnn” you start hyping him up, “get intoooo itttt!”

He’s so embarrassed but he’s enjoying himself, the humidity making you guys sweat and hair stick up in weird places. The two of you dance hip to hip, up grooving side to side with one another until you’re molded into one.

He ends up holding you close to him, taking you by surprise. You giggle, not knowing what he was doing but his voice is low, “he’s coming.”

Your body stops moving. Reliving the devastation you had once felt without any closure. Jeno keeps you faced the opposite direction, safe in his arms. But you had enough. You were sick of hiding. It was time to get into control. You softly break away from Jeno and turn around to face Wooyoung for yourself.

He’s the same.

“y/n. Jeno. what a surprise, you guys know Mark too?”

“Yea we do.” Jeno smiles at him, but you could tell it wasn’t sincere.

“How long has it been since we were all in the same room, huh?” Wooyoung keeps looking at the two of you. It made you mad for some reason. As if he was piercing remarks and judgements through his eyes.

“I don’t really want to talk to you Wooyoung.” Wow. You haven’t said that name in so long.

“Ohhh I see what’s going on here” he gets closer to Jeno, the music starts swelling and the air has become unbelievably stuffy, “how’s my old friend Jeno?” he puts a hand on his shoulder and Jeno shrugs it off.

Wooyoung smirks to the side, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. He looks Jeno dead in the eyes glaring at him, “I fucking knew it. How you two were just gonna start seeing each other after I leave the picture, took a year or two but you did it Jeno,” he scoffs, “I knew something was up with you two since the beginning, I shouldn't have even asked. Look where the fuck you guys are now.”

Jeno holds your hand to gently guide you behind him as Wooyoung inches closer to both of your faces. Wooyoung snickers again.

“What are you?” he asks Jeno, his eyebrows knitted and face uncomfortably close to him. He pushes Jeno’s shoulder, “what are you?” he pushes Jeno’s shoulder with more force. Jeno does not budge, you squeeze his palm to remind him to stay calm. By now a crowd has formed at the sound of Wooyoung’s voice. “I said, what are you?”

You grab Wooyoung’s shoulder and press it firmly to the point it might have left a mark, “hey, enough.” He pushes your hand off of him like a lifeless bug. He laughs at you mockingly.

“hEY, enOUgH,” he imitates your voice, “shut up you fucking whore.”

You don’t know what comes quicker, the word “whore” or Jeno socking Wooyoung’s face as it leaves his mouth. After Wooyoung’s on the floor, Jeno straddles him in order to fight him off. Wooyoung is the one who undercuts him this time, his knuckles cracking in the process. Jeno’s face is smoosed by Wooyoung’s other hand, making his nose start to bleed. Jeno hastily grabs the collar of Wooyoung’s shirt and lifts him to face him, about to throw another punch.

“Jeno get off the floor. He’s not worth my time or yours.”

Jeno’s fist shakes violently close to Wooyoung’s head for a couple more seconds before dropping it to get up and go to you.

“I don’t need you, Wooyoung. I never did. I never will. Maybe learn how to respect yourself first before letting yourself go like this. Jeno, let’s go.”

You grab ahold of Jeno’s hand and start walking out to the parking lot, but before you do, you turn on your heel just to flip him off one last time. It’s what your past self deserved.

The moment you walk out and chilling night air hits your lungs, your body heaves and you release Jeno’s hand in order to place both of yours on your thighs. Your breath is shaky and you’re absolutely terrified, hot tears raining down your cheeks into every crevice. Jeno starts rubbing circles into the small of your back to comfort you, “I’m so proud of you.” His voice is like a warm blanket wrapped around you, soothing you like a cup of tea. He escorts you to the car after your tears come to a halt. On the car ride home, he had given you a spare shirt he had in the backseat you could wipe your tears and blow your nose in. He puts on music so that you aren’t embarrassed about it. The car ride home is always faster than the first one. Before you knew it, he was already parked in front of your apartment. He takes off his seatbelt so he could face you fully.

“Do you feel better?” you could hear the concern delicately laced in his voice.

“Why are you asking me?? How about you?? Are you okay?” you start hyperventilating, “man you shouldn't have gotten hurt!” You’re about to start crying again, gosh you were such a mess.

“Hey, hey, hey it’s okay.” He comes closer to you and tucks a strand of hair stuck to the dried tears on your face behind your ear. It calms you down.

“Come inside Jeno, let me help you put ointment on the scratches.”

Jeno has always been beautiful. Even when your ex-boyfriend smashed his face he was beautiful. But you’ve always treasured how beautiful he was on the inside the most. It was too scary to lose someone like him. Maybe that’s why you always fought back how you felt. But holding back how you felt wasn’t easy when he was in your bathroom and you were touching his face sweetly wiping the cuts and applying cat bandaids. “Are you okay.” you would weakly ask more as a reassurance that he was, indeed, okay and going to be okay rather than a question. He wished you took care of him like this forever. Made him come inside more. Let him hold your hand more.

He always knew deep down that he was, and is, and probably will always be, so in love with you.

Parting ways after the night was over was extremely difficult for some reason. He shakes your hand as you begin to close the door, not letting go and allowing your fingertips to slide off each other before finally parting.

“Goodnight Jeno, drive safe.”

“Goodnight y/n, sleep safe.”

The door closes and you’re left cold and in the darkness staring at it as if it was Jeno. Your mind runs, but not as fast as your heart thinking about him and everything about him and what you two have been through over the years. Your hand is on the handle of your door now, certain he had already left. You're about to open it again, but loud knocks stream in onto the door, pounding into your eardrums. You swing it open with no hesitation.

Jeno stands before you, his hair still messy, his jacket off from getting too hot at the villa, the cat band aids still fresh. His lips are parted and it seems like he’s as out of breath as you are. He’s staring at you like he’s seeing you for the first time and it makes your composure crumble.

“H-hey.” you finally make out.

“Hey.”

“I-i- forgot my emergency sandwich! that's why i opened the door-”

“I just want to see you.”

His words scatter around your skin and into your insides, encompassing you. You take a moment to process this.

“I came back because I want to see you.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, holding him really tight, catching him off guard for a bit until he reciprocates the hug ten fold. “You make me smile until my cheeks hurt. I want to see you by my side too.”

He pulls away for a second, “really?” you shake your head yes, “really? Are you being serious?”

“Yes! I am being serious! Why would I lie!?”

And if you were going to lie, Jeno presses his lips gently onto your smile before you could even try to. When he pulls away both of you stand in awe, the feeling too surreal. You pull him back in by the nape of his neck, intensely, as if to make sure this wasn’t just a dream. Your feet find themselves back tracking into the house, his shoes being kicked off as he closes the door behind you.

Safe to say, you had a party for two on your own.

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haechanhues · 3 years

Text

My Analysis Of Enhypen (From I-Land mostly) and I was going to do it straight out of watching it, but it was like 2am and the next day I was sick so today it is :) (Edit : It took a couple of days to even write it) and I also watched some Enhypen videos so.... yup but I’ll try my best to keep it to my observations with I-Land and like the behind videos

Sunoo

- My expectation of him : I thought he’d be the loud one like San/Wooyoung is in ATEEZ from the get go but he was so shy at first. Watching him open up and spread who he is as a person was one of my favourite parts of the show. He also became more confident in himself and his abilities. You may think differently but if you take the first episode and last episode as examples, you’ll be able to see his level of comfort in showing his qualities as a person.

- In saying that, his expressions, especially in brighter concepts astound me. Like in those concepts, he just has the spotlight. For real, for real. He can also do intense concepts too. Amazing. He also has a voice that surprises me, like you’d expect his voice to be slightly higher but it’s among the lower tones (I don’t know the tonal scale)

- He doesn’t really take too harshly to teasing or when the other people poke fun at him. He takes it in good stride (Though nobody should go overboard) He just accepts it as it is with a smile or maybe a little sigh or even just teasing back. He knows it’s all with a good heart. I find that really admirable - it’s not an easy trait to have. Also the fact he can joke with the others as well.

- I love the way he monitors others, especially his members, and like he can make a person feel good. Like the way he without any hesitancy will help style another person’s hair if they asked or whatever. He just wants to do well, together. He wants to share his happiness with other people and I think that’s such a reason to love him. He also is the first to emphasise the beauty in every person. He brings attention to it in such a beautiful, caring way. He also can see the bigger picture so easily and so thoughtfully. Always looking for others.

- In saying all this, I have a theory that he was chosen as the producer’s pick because he has this ability to him. Like a moodmaker is someone that keeps the team’s spirits up and provide the stress relief and I feel he’s more than that? He has absolute faith in other people and can bring out hidden components of a person they didn’t really know they had e.g Sunghoon during Chamber 5/ The Heeseung Aegyo fiasco. Like he has this flamboyancy and shamelessness to him that you can help but join in or that it’s alright to join in.

Sunghoon

- My expectation of him : I thought he’d be a refined person, with a real likeness to someone with a status of a prince. Regality to a tee. But he’s got such a dorky tender heart. He’s so incredibly handsome. I know this is a really shallow and obvious observation. Anyone with two working eyes can see the boy is incredibly gorgeous. But he just leaves you in awe. He’s arguably the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen. I also love how shy and bashful he can get.

- The way he cherishes the people around him. I feel from the very first episode, he’s not necessarily a social person, but you can tell he wants to get along with everyone. He’s so comfortable to be around and you want to try anything in your power to make him smile and laugh and be your friend or whatever. During I-Land, you can see it from the way he talks about his sister and his friendship with Jake and the other I-Landers.

- He’s a massive dork. Like he doesn’t know how cute he is. And because he’s got that Prince look to him and that title attached to him, when you see him being dorky and screeching you can’t help but like that paradox. I think Episode 10 was his episode and that one VR segment too. Like he’s so funny and just he’s a soft spot for me I think. The ‘Pork Slice’ part I want ingrained into what made my life a life worth living.

- As a leader, it was so interesting to see him work. He helped K a lot with his leadership when Sunghoon left the team. He takes a couple of steps backwards for other people, and at times it scared me, but it ended up so right for him in the end anyway and I’m thankful. It helped people see what kind of a person he is and I’m glad he had other people looking after him. He also is careful and accepts suggestions and sincerely works with each of them. He makes observations on his own too.

- This can be interrelated but I think a large massive part of why he’s in Enhypen is how hard he works. He works diligently and wholeheartedly. He’s a quiet powerhouse in that respect. He does his work without the need for attention but solely to improve his skills as a performer and for his future. He doesn’t care if his hands get dirty. As long as one person, even if it’s himself has faith in him, he’ll do it.

Heeseung

- My expectation of him : I thought he’d be known as The Ace and hardworking and etc. It wasn’t a wrong assumption but I think we can go into more detail. He’s a really talented person and I mean that with every fibre of my being. From the very first episode, he’s labelled as the ‘Ace’ and it continues throughout the programme so when he does debut, it isn’t too much of a surprise, if at all.

- Too be honest, I’m not really sure if this counts but I’m going to add it anyway. His relationship with his brother (so hilarious) is such a heartwarming moment. In I-Land he was one of the older ones (I think) and someone with a leadership role and so a lot of people relied on him. But it was great to see he had a good support system who he loves and adores with all his heart. The way his older brother is a source of energy for him really made my heart go into overdrive. So fucking cute.

- As a leader, I feel a bit like stupid for mentioning it cause it’s so obvious, but he’s got leadership skills. (Duh) But like as a leader, he works on the synergy of the team. He’s patient, stern and is usually almost on the right path. He’s someone very reliable and his objective is clear. He wants to fit the concept as well as he can and makes sure that everyone is on the same page without anyone falling behind.

- He also has the ability to let loose and have fun. He makes jokes and tries things out because it looks fun. He’s under a shit ton of pressure, especially on I-Land as the ‘Ace’ and I’m grateful he’s able to enjoy his time with the other contestants. He actually plays around quite a bit and his smile is so wide and bright, it’s so nice to see.

- Even though he’s not the leader in Enhypen now, he has a role of being a caretaker. He helps out when he’s needed (e.g Helped out Taki for the BTS performance) He’s a really thoughtful and understanding person. He’s always the first one to state problems and then come up with solutions. When someone feels bad for getting criticisms, he takes it as his own as well. He doesn’t want to succeed solely.

Jake

- My expectation of him : No joke it’s just Aussie, at first. He was the first Enhypen member/I-Land contestant who I ever learnt about. I also think he’s a little like Eric from The Boyz. Slightly. Just, not as crazy. Like it’s weird just seeing a not-loud Eric and/or a crazy Jake. Also, he’s really attractive. I don’t know exactly why he’s so attractive but there’s something about him you just can’t describe in words.

- His debut astounds me the most. Not because I didn’t think he could do it. But because he had such a short training period and even as a trainee he had to exceed hundreds of others (500 others/499 others?) to be let into the company. He’s just got this natural luck to him as well. Imagine that. He’s also quite an adaptable and fast learner. He always seems to improve with every little thing he learns and it always has such an impact.

- He’s got a charming way of performing. He may not be as rich in skill training as the other contestants or members and often gets criticism for it. But every time he had a performance where you forget about it. He’s got this irresistible charm on stage. You want to learn more about him, watch him more and he plays his role really well.

- His eyes are so sparkly and they just lure you in. He’s currently one of the only boys I’ll accept lip bites from (I usually find them cringe). But he makes it look natural. He gets so excited with new possibilities - new opportunities of fun, to get to know other people and know the people he knows more. He always engages with every situation with eagerness and acceptance.

- As I mentioned before, he’s the icon of growth. Yes, everyone knows it. But you don’t look at him and see his inexperience nor the lack of skills in comparison. You want him to debut immediately and grow with him. Out of all of them, I feel like you look at him and apply yourself in his shoes. You want him to succeed and to learn and to grow and you want to hold his hand during the whole process. You want to watch and do the same with yourself.

Niki

- My expectation of him : I thought he was going to be a mood maker of the team cause I saw a lot of compilations of him being groovy and weird. It’s a weird thing to say but he reminded me of seaweed in the game of Seaweed (I don’t know how to explain this game to anyone, it’s kind of like tag I guess except when you get tagged you have to act like seaweed in the ocean) or like those inflatable balloon people at car autos or something. Weird analogy but- He’s actually quite chic.

- From the very first episode and all to the very end, he’s a very skillfull dancer. He picks up the dances quickly and he’s such a small person but he has this way of performing large gestures that astound you. He was a really meticulous teacher too. A stickler for details. He’s very satisfying to watch dance. When he’s in the zone of dancing, it’s really beautiful and you just want him to perform more and he could do the same dance again and again and it’d still have the same impact it did the first time.

- In I-Land, in the earlier episodes he struggled with the team aspect. He was amazing individually and could lead the team well during dancing. But wanted to show the best version of himself and forget about the rest of the team. BUT, if you look at him now, he knows the importance of his teammates and strives for the best. He also allowed himself to open up emotionally and cried more and adored more. (I noticed this moment especially with Hanbin, Sunoo, Taki and those who were eliminated)

- During the show, it didn’t really show Niki enough being playful. I think we got to see cheery Niki when he received the hanbok from Jungkook. But you can see it better in the behind I-Land videos with the sheep costume that Jungwon wears and during Enhypen’s debut. But my favourite moment is when Jungwon wants to sneeze and he looks at him and he’s like ‘Jungwon hyung ANDWAEEE’ and his voice and everything is going to be stamped into my head.

- He’s practically made to be an idol. His dancing is one thing but when he takes pictures and has to fit concepts that his hyungs find awkward, he just does it with such a chic way of doing things. He knows where to angle his head and he’s gotten so good at expressions. Off stage, he’s chic yet playful and extremely loving with his hyungs.

Jay

My expectation of him : First of all, the whole reason I’m into Enhypen is because of him. He’s the reason I watched the show. He’s almost always my avatar on Rhythm Hive. I expected him to be confident and good at everything. He’s also really good looking. Like, the type of guy I’d have a crush on if he lived in my country type of crush.

- He’s a great speaker. His ability to give feedback and constructive criticism is an amazing feat. He points out problems carefully and constructs a solution. He does so in a way that he creates a feeling of trust and faith. I’m terrible with criticism, like I can accept it but I don’t know how to reply to it. But with Jay, I actually want him to provide feedback.

- He’s a really intense performer. He’s just constantly burning and his gaze is like a promise. He uses emotion to perform harder and to outdo himself and to prove to others that they’d regret making their decision. He is very emotional and it shows when he performs. A really determined person to do well in everything he does. He’s got this wild and untamed look in his eye but his body is very controlled and confident. It’s seriously a good look on him. It’s really attractive.

- His leadership qualities are amazing. He knows how to utilise everyone’s talents to make the team standout more. He has an in depth understanding of everyones personalities and talents enough to put them in the right position. (That sounds like a report card). He’s also not as hardheaded as I had expected him to be, he’s flexible and is able to listen to everyones opinions and communicate on an equal level. He helps out without taking complete control over the situation.

- He’s the moodmaker! Yes, he’s responsible for about 95% of the memes and quotes in I-Land. I don’t think I have to quote them. In saying that he’s pretty much the victim of Enhypen and I-Land pretty much.

- I think the way he is so emotionally driven is what makes him stand out. He is the epitome of a fiery personality. He’s so unapologetically him and also open about what he’s feeling and what he’s aiming for, which is considerably quite new considering how boys are kind of taught to suppress their emotions. He also doesn’t let his emotions dictate how he treats a person. He treats them fairly, even when he’s disappointed or angry at someone. Watching him succeed and sometimes fail and promise to come back, genuinely felt like he was destined for it and wasn’t waiting for Lady Luck to shine on him. He goes and does shit done himself. He invokes so many emotions and empathies in other people.

Jungwon

- My expectation of him : When I was watching KCON:TACT 3 I was really attracted to his voice and they way he talked and danced. Though I didn’t expect to end up biasing him to the point of no return. Never in my life have I loved a boy quite like this. I don’t know it feels different. It felt different with both Haechan, Kyungsoo and Sunwoo but this is all so different this feeling right here. Warning : This is going to be extremely biased. Like no joke. I’m sorry, this boy is just going to have longer lines but I’ll still keep to the same bullet points.

- He’s so lovely. So so lovely. He has this ability to smile and have fun and tease and make little comments. His eyes are like hypnosis. You’re able to look at him, see the uplifting of his smile and every one of his facial features are uplifted so it makes his expressions brighter, more welcoming and more trusting. He’s got broad shoulders and like someone you want to cuddle and watch with stars in your eyes. Like that chick is so right, ‘you’re someone I can’t live without now.’ The way he reacts to such comments, bashful smile and the whole hand over his mouth. He’s so pretty. I don’t want him to be sad or whatever.

- He’s so accepting of other forms of life and doesn’t care for status, wealth, age or whatever. For him, if they’re part of the team, they’re part of the team and he’ll look after them as a team member. He puts his importance on things that actually matter and looks to create an atmosphere where he can be relied on and that others feel comforted. He has fun and talks with others with softness and makes others feel engaged. He’s so fucking attentive. Like he understands other people well and has high observation skills. Like if one is upset, he’ll just quietly go to comfort them and give attention in a soothing matter. He’s also got a soothing voice. I love hearing him talk.

- The hidden ACE. He made an impact during the competition at significant times. I think the reason why many contestants and him, himself went down the ranks was because they were previously in the higher ranks and were believed to be safe. But as a vocalist, he has such a clear and stable voice. You can recognise his voice immediately, even when I wasn’t a Enhypen stan, I could recognise his voice even without knowing who he was. But as a dancer, he’s so amazing at it. Like, his popping and his ability to do intense choreographies. As a performer he understands nuances, meanings and the concepts of a song and understands his role in the performance. Him getting praises was my favourite thing ever. I think he was a favourite among the producers. Though when he did have stumbles, I was so worried for him. Like no, I refuse.

- He’s got an optimistic way of thinking, without being overcompensating. Basically when things don’t necessarily go the way it was set out to or when others suggest another way of doing things, he takes his time to think about it and decides. He basically uses it as a tool to grow and adapt in order to produce the best results. Now that I’m thinking about it, rather than being optimistic, I would say he’s an opportunist(?) in a sense. He’ll accept the suggestions and has this greed to live up to and exceed the expectations. This is easily seen when Jungwon isn’t doing too well doing part 5 and ends up swapping with Heeseung. And he also has this greed. It’s a greed I’ve never seen before. The goals are the same but in a way that’s different?; He doesn’t want his grandmother to be devastated if he is eliminated, he wants to be an artist that does music he loves, ‘it’ll be even more impressive if we can go beyond their expectation’. He uses the current happenings as a way to exceed them and to go beyond capacity. In short he’s a realist without being stuck, he’s an idealist without being too high up in the clouds, he’s optimistic but not unrealistic. It’s inspiring, he’s inspiring. They all are but Jungwon has my heart at the moment.

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nekojitachan · 4 years

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Hmm, another chapter update! We’re starting to get somewhere. I think after the next chapter there will be a time jump (that or the one following). Yes, plotty things.

Anyway, here you go. More ‘The Real Thing’, the Andreil Raven soulmate fic that does or does not exist.

Some twinyard drama, some spilling of tea, some of Nathan’s terrible parenting skills.

Previous chapter can be found here (and which links to other chapters).

*******

“So, off to some fancy party this weekend?”

Andrew gave his brother a look of long suffering which made Aaron grin. “Right, try not to have too much fun,” Aaron teased before he ran off to catch up with his friends. Andrew clicked his tongue then went on his own way, displeased at being reminded about the damn banquet that weekend.

The Ravens would have their fifth game of the season on Friday, and it was time for the northeastern district’s fall banquet; Andrew wasn’t pleased to deal with either things, but at least the first was a home game (against Binghamton) and would only last a couple hours, while the second was an overnight ordeal at Penn State.

He suspected that Tetsuji wouldn’t let them off-campus to have ice cream and hit a few bars.

At least Andrew shouldn’t have any problems shutting the goal against the Bearcats, who weren’t nearly as good as they liked to think they were. He was mentally reviewing some of their players’ stats when he met up with Ben on the way back to the Nest, who complained yet again about the fact that they weren’t allowed to take any dates to the banquet (‘I mean no offense, if I was into guys you would be… okay, you’d still terrify me but you’re not half bad looking, but I’m nineteen and it’s such a waste of a paid hotel room’).

They studied in their room for a while then went off to practice; Andrew was surprised to find Nathaniel (and Moreau) hovering by his locker, both of them already in their uniforms, hair slightly damp and mussed as if they’d recently practiced.

“Ooh, look at the two lovebirds,” Loiseau called out, which made half the locker room snicker.

Federov leaned over from his own locker to leer at Nathaniel. “What, is shorty not giving it to you good enough, Nate? You need-“

Andrew didn’t look away from his soulmate as he grabbed the prick by the throat. “Do you have any complaints?”

Nathaniel’s blue eyes widened slightly, while Moreau was quick to hide a faint smile. “None, other than your snoring.” He had to speak up a little over the choking sounds Federov made.

Andrew huffed as he clenched his fingers deeper into Federov’s throat. “I told you, you’re imagining things.” He finally looked at the backliner, whose face had turned a bright red. “See, no complaints. Now go away before I cut your tongue out for lying.” He dug his fingers in even more for a moment before he let go then shoved a gasping Federov away.

There were various mutters of ‘crazy’, ‘headcase’ and the like, but Andrew didn’t care, not if the others finally learned to leave him and Nathaniel alone. “You need to get your hearing checked out,” he said as he pulled off his shirt.

Nathaniel was looking away with a slight blush to his cheeks when Andrew glanced back, his red undershirt in hand (interesting). “My hearing’s fine. Enough lame jokes.” Once the shirt was on, Nathaniel looked back at him and leaned forward. “Be careful,” he said in a quiet voice not meant to carry far. “Riko and Kev are already out on court, and it’s not going well.”

Andrew glanced at Moreau, who gave a slight nod, then grinned, the expression wide and a touch sharp, as he reached out to pat his soulmate on his tattooed cheek. “Later, sweetpea. Your honeypie has to work first before we can have our fun,” he said out loud to throw off the Ravens still watching on.

If Andrew was a more delicate soul, he might be a bit perturbed, even downright unnerved, by the chilling look Nathaniel gave him just then. “I know how to debone you as if you’re nothing but a big fish,” the redhead threatened before he spun around on his heel and stomped away.

Moreau didn’t bother to hide his smile (a true rarity) as he nodded. “He does, too.” He gave Andrew a jaunty wave before he went after his partner.

Aw, apparently, they’d moved on to the flirting stage, how sweet.

Despite the threat, Andrew appreciated the warning when he finally got out on court, where he found a scowling Riko and a quiet Day doing drills; it appeared they had a contest going to see who could knock over the most cones. Judging from the numbers Akagi called out, Riko was in the lead… but Andrew saw at least one shot that Day usually had no trouble nailing any other time that he somehow flubbed just then.

Oh well, Kevin Day wasn’t any concern of his.

Tetsuji seemed to be ignoring the contest going on between his nephew and protégé, and called the Ravens forward to start practice; after warm-up exercises and drills, Andrew found himself part of a scrimmage with Nathaniel and Moreau in front of him while Engle and Saunders attempted to score goals.

It wasn’t so bad when Andrew didn’t have to deal with Riko, but he wisely kept that thought to himself, especially when he could hear the way that Riko’s ‘teasing’ remarks to Day crossed the line from friendly to vicious. He noticed how Nathaniel would tense at the mocking laughter and the various versions of ‘you suck’s, but for once the redhead seemed to be listening to his own advice since he kept his mouth shut and focused on Exy.

Riko and Kevin were still whacking balls when practice was over.

Andrew caught up with Nathaniel on the way to dinner to (slowly, making his intent clear all the while) ‘pin’ his soulmate to the wall, a scant inch between their bodies and Moreau a glowering presence nearby. Pretending to nuzzle Nathaniel’s left ear with his hands on the wall next to the younger man’s hips, he breathed out the question that had been on his mind the last few hours. “What’s going on with them?”

Nathaniel drew in a slow breath and raised his left hand toward Andrew’s head, only to loosely cup it when Andrew nodded. “Press asked Kevin more questions after their pro game last night,” he whispered. “He got more airtime.”

Andrew arched an eyebrow at that ridiculous bit of information, which prompted a slight nod from his soulmate. Well, someone had a fragile ego, didn’t they? Before he could say anything, though, he fought not to shudder as Nathaniel’s fingers tentatively slid into his hair.

That… shouldn’t feel so damn good.

“If you two don’t mind, I would like to eat soon, while I still have some miniscule appetite left,” Moreau sneered.

Andrew jerked away from Nathaniel, whose face flushed with embarrassment while he snapped something sharp in French at his haughty partner. “How about you try to eat with a broken jaw?” Andrew asked with a ‘smile’.

“Fillet you like a fish,” Nathaniel warned as he motioned for Andrew to follow him and Frenchie into the dining hall.

“I knew you liked me,” Andrew taunted as he tagged along.

“You have a death wish,” Moreau muttered while he shook his head.

Perhaps.

So did Ben; he gave Andrew a bright smile and a two thumbs-up gesture when he noticed that Andrew ate at the same table as Nathaniel and Moreau, even if he had to suffer through the two of them talking about the statistics of various teams and how best to manage the new drills that Tetsuji had sprung on them. Used to being ignored (at least by his soulmate), he was surprised when Nathaniel pulled him aside after dinner to talk to him privately.

“Be careful at the banquet this weekend,” he murmured while Moreau stood guard. “Riko always has to put on a show, to prove he’s in charge. Don’t give him a reason to do that to you in front of everyone.”

Before Andrew could say anything, Nathaniel whisked himself away, leaving only a feeling of warmth and a craving behind – a craving for Andrew to dig his fingers into dark auburn hair, to brush his lips against a full bottom lip that taunted him….

Perhaps it would be a good thing, to get away from his soulmate for at least a night.

Nicky sent along various types of articles on how to behave at a social gathering, which Andrew basically deleted without reading.

Friday’s night game went the way he expected it to go; the Bearcats played dirty, but they weren’t anywhere near the Ravens’ skill level so were sent home with an embarrassing loss. Andrew once again put in more effort than he liked while out in the goal, but somehow it was worth it when Nathaniel sat next to him on the bench during the game and joined in on mocking the opposing players, when he let down that prickly guard of his and acted like an almost normal teenager.

When he teased Andrew about his snoring when they were back in Nathaniel’s (and Moreau’s) room later that night, when he once again reminded Andrew to be careful at the banquet and (jokingly – Andrew realized that by the way the left corner of Nathaniel’s mouth hitched the slightest bit) asked him if he knew the difference between a salad fork and a teaspoon (one has these spiky bits and one is all smooth, you know) until Andrew threatened to smother him with a pillow.

(He may have fallen to sleep with the sound of his soulmate’s laughter ringing in his ears.)

Tetsuji, the bastard that he was, made the team do their usual workout and morning practice before they cleaned up and piled into the buses that were to drive them out to the middle of bumfuck PA for the banquet. Nathaniel fussed over Moreau and, surprisingly, Andrew before they left (Tetsuji also made them dress in their black and red dress clothes since they were to appear ‘perfect’ upon arrival), and snuck a few of the ‘good’ energy bars into Andrew’s left pocket before he walked away.

It wasn’t often that Andrew gave much thought to the whole ‘soulmate’ bs, but… but maybe there was a reason why he was stuck with Nathaniel Wesninski.

Maybe.

He slept most of the time on the bus, and read one of Nicky’s ‘suggested’ books the rest of the trip (it was another A/B/O novel, a sappy affair about a strong, blond Alpha swooping in to protect a struggling brunet omega which in no way reminded Andrew of Erik and Nicky). Once they reached Penn State, Riko made them line up per their numbers and inspected them, demanded that they straightened out their clothes and fixed their hair until they were ‘Raven’ perfect before he ordered them to fall in step per the way they’d practiced (actually practiced, oh how Andrew had blamed his laughter on the meds that day) before they headed into the stadium.

(The prick also took a moment to remind them to be on their best behavior that night, his attention lingering on Andrew as he tapped three fingers against his chin.)

Riko was arrogance personified to Penn State’s captain, who didn’t appear to care for him (or the Ravens), either. Yet they were stuck at the same table as their division ‘rivals’, which meant that Andrew sat next to Moreau while Riko and Day (along with various other Ravens) traded insults with the pussycats. It was almost enough to make him want to stab salad forks into his ears (and yes, he knew what a fucking salad fork was).

Better yet, stab a salad fork in someone else’s ear….

He was picking at his bland chicken breast and steamed vegetables (he would gladly maim someone for a pizza right then) when the pussycats’ captain gave a mocking laugh and nudged the young woman sitting at his side. “What did I tell you? No one wanted to come as dates for these stuck-up bastards.”

She laughed as well, as did the majority of the pussycats; Andrew noticed that most of the players had a guest beside them, which meant there were almost double the amount of people on their side of the table compared to the Ravens’. “Probably don’t even have any soulmates. Who would be unlucky enough to be stuck with someone like them?”

“Yeah, tied to an Exy-playing machine that doesn’t know how to have any fun for the rest of their lives, who would want that?”

“How could they even tell which one is their soulmate? All their symbols would probably be an Exy racquet or something equally boring!”

Andrew propped his chin up on his right hand while the pussycats continued to make fun of the Ravens, while beside him, Moreau huffed quietly but didn’t show any emotion. However, Riko didn’t seem to be handling the jabs as well (perhaps because prick knew he was a piece of shit and didn’t have a soulmate of his own).

Normally, anything that made Riko feel bad was a good thing in Andrew’s book, but he inwardly tensed when that one smile came over the prick’s face; judging from the murmured curse in French and the way Day stilled, he wasn’t the only one to realize that things had taken a turn for the worse.

Riko leaned forward as if to tell a secret. “The reason we’re champions, unlike your team, is that we know when to remain focused and when to indulge ourselves. Right now?” He cast a disparaging look at the young woman in the deep blue dress who sat next to the pussycat’s captain. “Even though you and the others don’t present much of a challenge,” he sneered, “we don’t allow ourselves to be distracted during the season.”

One of the pussycats’ backliners scowled and shook his head. “You just won’t to admit that no one wants you.”

That prompted a laugh from most of the Ravens. “No one wants us?” Riko clapped Day on the back, who scoffed at that statement. “When we’re already on a pro team, unlike any of you? When our seniors already have teams offering them contracts?” Federov and others grinned and nodded while more pussycats scowled. “We could have our choice of dates and already have our soulmates waiting for us, but this is work and so there’s no need to inflict so much boredom upon them when it’s not necessary. It’s bad enough that we have to do endure it.”

“You’re an asshole,” Captain Pussycat snarled, which was the truth but not much of a snappy comeback.

“An asshole who’ll beat you yet again this year,” Riko said with a pleased smile.

“An asshole who probably doesn’t have anyone to celebrate the victory with,” a dealer shot back as she rubbed the soulmate mark on her arm; she was too far away for Andrew to make out the symbols. “You need a soul for that to happen, and it’s clear that you Ravens don’t have any.”

Riko’s smile took on a too-sharp edge while various Ravens laughed. “Again, why inflict losers like you upon them? Since they’re our soulmates, they’re just as driven as us and are busy, but you’ll see one of them soon enough. Isn’t that right, Andrew?”

What the hell was the prick doing now? Andrew sat up, the drugged smile flattening as he gave his ‘captain’ a blank look. “It’s right that there’s no need for him to have to deal with these assholes,” he said, a clear warning in his voice.

“Hmm, but dear Nate will have to deal with them next season, just like Thea dealt with them until she graduated, isn’t that right, Kevin?” Riko sat there and outed their soulmates as if it wasn’t a big deal, when he had no right to; Andrew’s left hand clenched around the pathetic knife provided for dinner when he felt a kick to his right ankle.

“Don’t,” Moreau whispered. “Nat.”

Andrew almost stabbed the French bastard for interfering, almost told him to mention his soulmate’s name… but the damage was already done, wasn’t it? Riko had deflected the pussycats away from the fact that he didn’t have a soulmate, and now the other team (and soon the rest of the division once word spread) was busy talking about which other former Ravens might be soulmates.

Andrew would much prefer everyone was busy talking about Riko’s ‘unfortunate’ death, but was held back (barely) by the clear warning to Nathaniel (and by extension, to Aaron).

(He was also disgusted about how part of him felt a bit smug over how everyone knew Nathaniel was his soulmate.)

Ben took one look at him when they were finally allowed to return to the hotel at the end of the too long night and didn’t ask him to share any of the alcohol he’d brought along.

Moreau made certain to stay between him and Riko the entire time they were at Penn State and on the drive back to Edgar Allan. It was a good thing (for everyone stuck on the bus with him) that Andrew had just taken a fresh dose of his ‘happy’ meds before he received a text from Aaron, who had somehow heard about him finding his soulmate (word traveled fast, it seemed).

There was a lot of swear words and angry emojis, and eventually Aaron got to the point; if Andrew was messing around with his soulmate (he wasn’t), then Aaron was free to search for and have a relationship with his soulmate (when found). Andrew reminded his twin about his many terrible decisions made in the past, about how Andrew had to clean up so many messes, and received another furious text.

/U can’t keep me from her/

Andrew turned off his phone, unwilling to deal with such stupidity at the moment.

He just wanted to crawl into his bed and sleep the rest of the day (actually, he wanted to beat the shit out of something), which was unlikely since Tetsuji would put them through at least one practice before calling it a day, but upon entering the Nest, Moreau mumbled something about finding Nat and went off in such a rush that Andrew found himself following without any thought.

(Just for the hell of it, he wasn’t worried or anything.)

Nathaniel was in the room he shared with Moreau, seated at his desk as he studied. At first, he didn’t react to them entering the room, then finally raised his head from the book he’d been reading when Moreau called out his name. His partner hissed as if in pain upon seeing the bruises which marred Nathaniel’s pale skin, the blackened left eye and split lower lip, while Andrew felt a rare fury rail against the drugs swirling around in his veins.

“Nat, what-“

“Get out,” Andrew told Moreau as a manic smile tugged the corners of his lips upward as if hooks had been implanted in them. When Moreau stared at him in confusion, he grabbed a fistful of black material and shoved Moreau toward the door. “Get. Out.”

“Who do you-“

“Jean, just go,” Nathaniel said, his voice quiet and stripped of almost all emotion except a hint of exhaustion. “It’ll be fine.”

Moreau paused for a moment before he clicked his tongue and yanked his t-shirt free from Andrew’s grip. “Don’t hurt him,” he warned before he left.

As if that was possible; oh, Andrew wanted to hurt someone, all right, but not his soulmate. Oh no, he wanted to tear apart whoever had left those bruises on Nathaniel.

“Who was it?” he demanded to know as he forced himself to go sit on Moreau’s bed instead of on Nathaniel’s desk; he suspected that his soulmate needed the space right then (he needed the space right then).

Nathaniel was quiet while he bookmarked the page he’d been reading then leaned back in the chair; he began speaking before Andrew repeated the question. “My father was here this morning.” He winced as he skimmed his fingers over his bruised cheek. “Word got out fast about us being soulmates soon after someone posted it on an Exy forum last night.”

Andrew considered that for a moment while his hatred for Nathan Wesninski grew even more potent. “He beat you because I’m your soulmate.” Nathaniel gave a slight nod. “Why?”

“Because… because,” Nathaniel sighed as he got up to fetch something from the minifridge between his and Moreau’s desk; a fresh ice pack, which he wrapped with the towel he’d used on an older pack set on the desk. “He already knew you were my soulmate, Tetsuji told him after you were recruited, he was just… annoyed, I guess you could say, that the news got out.” He didn’t look at Andrew as he applied the pack to the left side of the face.

There were likely one or two explanations for that. “Is he angry because of my past or that I’m a guy?”

The question made Nathaniel look at him. “Uhm, the latter.” He toyed with a pen left on his desk as if nervous. “I mean, it’s not a big deal, two guys being soulmates, but he’s… well, even though he’s washed his hands of me, I guess he still thinks it makes him look bad. Makes him look like less of a man, somehow.”

So he made himself feel better by coming here to beat up his son, what a ‘man’. “My cousin’s father is like that,” Andrew confessed. “Has some weird belief that Nicky’s soulmate being a guy is a bad thing. He’s doing much better now that he’s living with Erik in Germany.”

For some reason, that bit of truth made Nathaniel smile, just a sliver of a curl. “Really? Are… are they happy together?”

“Disgustingly so,” Andrew admitted. “Once he finds out about you, he’ll be hounding me for information because he believes all soulmates should be happy together.”

“Oh.” That seemed to confuse Nathaniel; he glanced down at his lap and attempted to nibble on his bottom lip before he remembered why that was a bad idea. “Jean… Jean told me that there were good soulmate bonds, but I only know my parents and….”

“And it’s not good,” Andrew guessed; he better understood why Nathaniel had freaked out on him that one day.

“No.”

“Nicky and Erik have a good one.” Such a good one that he thought that the universe was mocking him with his own mark, was showing him something so perfect that could never be his.

Now… now he was beginning to wonder.

As the anger gave away to something warm and aching, he found himself on his feet, which made Nathaniel stare at him. “I have to go unpack.” He motioned to his duffel bag, which he’d left by the door.

“Yeah, practice will start soon.” Nathaniel gave him a weak smile. “Back to Penn State for an away game.”

More fun time with the pussycats; Andrew would have to put some real effort into that game, and wouldn’t get much time alone with Nathaniel while off his drugs.

Still, everyone knew Nathaniel and him were soulmates now (for good and bad), knew that Nathaniel was off-limits. He just… he just needed to figure out what do next.

(He knew what part of him urged him to do, which didn’t help things. He needed to be smart about what he did next, and for some reason… he didn’t feel very smart when around Nathaniel.)

*******

Yep, we’re getting somewhere.

Did you know that the pro team that Kevin and Riko played on while in university was called the Baltimore Wildcats? How many times I’ve read the Kathy Ferdinand interview scene and hadn’t realized that Nora did actually name that team? Oops. Which makes one wonder WHY Baltimore, hmm? Weren’t they signed with another team as well? Besides the US Court (which wouldn’t have demanded time until the Olympics). This is another reason why I don’t think the whole 18 hour days make any sense....

Anyway, thanks to those who do read this.

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keelywolfe · 3 years

Text

FIC: The Rose and the Thorn: Chapter 15 (Mafia AU)

Summary: What new trouble has our pretty flower shop boy gotten into?

Tags: Spicyhoney, Cherryberry, Mafia AU, Flower Shop AU, Violence, First Meetings

Warning: Warnings for implications of prostitution.

~~*~~

Read Chapter 15 on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

Rus sagged against the sturdy support of the pole, still panting. He couldn’t look away from Edge, didn’t know the meaning of the emotion that blazed from his eye lights, a sharp contrast to the bland expression on his face. In that moment there was no one but the two of them in the world, the tension strung between them a vibrating wire sending out dangerous volts of electricity.

The sound of a daintily cleared throat jolted Rus from his near trance. Mona was standing on the floor just off the stage and her normally easy smile wavered into uncertainty. She wrapped her arms around herself, seeming for the first time aware of the brevity of her clothing as she tried a faltering laugh, “I s’pose you could say we were having a little fun. Getting in a little practice, is all.”

“Practice. Is that what this is,” Edge said flatly. His size alone made him an imposing figure and his arms crossed over his broad chest only worsened it, hands curled into fists beneath his arms. “You both decided that the best use of our facilities is for him to learn the fine art of shaking his ass for an audience, without even the benefit of a paycheck.”

Mona winced, her false lashes brushing her cheeks as she dropped her unhappy gaze to the floor. Seeing her upset broke that tension and roused Rus’s temper instead. What right did Edge have to come in here and be so cold to Mona when she’d been the one to offer him the most kindness in this place, more even than his own brother?

Rus stormed to the side of the stage, hands braced on his hips as he glared at Edge through the blinding stage lights, “what business is it of yours what i do and who says it won’t be for a paycheck? i think i can decide for myself what i can or can’t do, and i’ll bet mona could teach me plenty of moves worth the price!”

It was the wrong thing to say. He knew it the moment the words hit the air, the way the glowing coals of Edge’s eye lights flared as if doused with gasoline. His stupid mouth, always speaking up without his permission, only this time he was dragging someone else along with him. But he was so sick of this, sick of people telling him what to do and making awful assumptions about him; Edge, his brother, even Red, if everyone was going to assume he was somehow selling his body for money, then perhaps he should while he was still able to set the price.

But he did regret dragging Mona into all this. She shivered, her long ears drooping and her painted lips trembling, but she stepped up bravely, moving to stand between their shared glares. “Sir, it’s my fault, I was the one who suggested it, I—"

“Oh, I highly doubt that,” Edge interrupted smoothly. He stepped to the side and gestured exaggeratedly at the door. “Mona, I believe your shift is starting soon, perhaps you’d like to freshen up before you begin?”

She took a step and hesitated, turning back to give Rus a worried look and Rus suddenly knew if he asked, she’d stay. She’d risk her job, her schooling, risk everything trying to play as a buffer between them. That soft heart of hers was far better suited to being a nurse than trying to protect him and Rus managed a tremulous smile and shook his head, gesturing at the door. ‘go on,’ he mouthed, ‘i’ll be okay.’

He hoped it was true. She gave him a little nod and left, the staccato click of her heels stark on the tile floor. The door closed softly behind her, leaving them alone with the lights that were still flashing overhead, moving over Rus in a brilliant, lingering kaleidoscope.

The silence drew out. Rus could taste the sweat beading on his face, trickles of it running down the sides of his skull, and he was very aware of the bareness of his spine, the exposed curves of his iliac crests. The tightness of his trousers concealed nothing, all the way down to his bare, beribboned feet. How could he not be aware of it with the way Edge’s gaze moved deliberately over him, tracing a downward path, then back up to meet his defiant gaze again.

“Your brother is worried about you," Edge said at last. "According to him, the two of you had a tiff and you ran off into the building. The entire security staff has been looking for you.” He let out a low humorless chuckle. “You’re quite slippery, aren’t you, flower shop, popping in and out of camera view like that, it’s quite a talent. I’m relieved you were intelligent enough not to leave the club, but do imagine my surprise when my brother informed me that not only had they caught sight of you on camera, but that you were taking the opportunity to learn a new trade." Edge’s jaw tightened suddenly and he spoke through his clenched teeth. "Perhaps you'd like to hear Red's assessment on your dancing skills?"

"no." Rus lifted his chin, even as he cursed himself for not thinking that there might be cameras. He could imagine Red’s crude opinion very easily without a reenactment, “i don’t really care to hear a lot of what your brother has to say. Or you, for that matter.”

“Me?” Edge asked, low. He took a step closer and Rus resisted the ridiculous urge to take one backwards. “And what have I done to upset you now, flower shop? I seem to manage it as readily as breathing.”

“you…this!” Rus gestured wildly at the stage. “you’re always telling me what to do! telling me what i feel! i’ve only been here for two days and i can hardly even think, anymore!” He stalked over to the pole and ran a hand down it, the metal gliding against the smooth leather of his glove. “this was my choice, i asked mona to show me how to dance and if this is what i want, you can’t stop me!”

“Can’t I?” Edge said. The silky deliberation of his voice sent an unpleasant shiver down Rus’s spine. “I see, you want to play games, is that it? All right, then.” Edge reached over to push a button on the console and the music began again, a different song, this one slower and sultry. He snagged one of the cushioned chairs and dragged it over, sitting with his hands resting loosely on his spread knees. “Show me what you’ve learned.”

“what?” Rus faltered, letting his hand fall from the pole as he blinked at Edge, his foolish temper cooling. “you…what?”

“Dance for me,” Edge repeated, patiently, “You’re looking for a job, consider this an audition. Show me what you can do.”

“but—" I wasn’t, Rus didn’t say. Not here, anyway, not in this club, and honestly, what was he trying to do? Who was he even upset with, Edge? His brother? He didn’t even know anymore, only that his soul was pounding, the throb of it loud inside his skull. “i…i couldn’t.”

“No?” Edge leaned forward, propping his chin on one hand, his elbow on his knee, “How can you dance for an audience if you can’t dance for me? Half the security team has seen you, my own brother tells me it was quite a show, and you won’t offer it to me?”

Heat rushed into Rus’s cheekbones to think of others crowded around the security cameras watching him, but damn it all, Edge didn’t get to tell him what he could or couldn’t do, no one did, and if he wanted a fucking show, he’d get one. “fine!”

Rus took a grip on the pole again and steadied himself with a long, slow breath, listening to the pulse of the music. The sensuous growl of the woman’s voice moved through the air as vividly as a touch, crooning to her lover.

I'll give it to you slowly, till you're just begging me to hold you…

He let the words embrace him, starting slowly, his hips swaying as he caught the rhythm. His skills were hardly impressive and he knew it; his feet were bare, without the imposing benefit of high heels, sweat was running down his bones, dripping salt-sweet against his tongue when he swung his head around, spinning lightly around the pole. Before, he’d pictured a crowd watching him and now he danced only for Edge, let the knowledge of that gaze upon him move him. His pelvis followed that husky voice, swinging and grinding. He turned his back to the pole, let it brace him as his hands moving over his own bones, skimming down his ribs, fondling teasingly at his iliac crests, lower, tracing a path down his femurs even as he swayed against the support of the pole.

I'll hold you up and drive you all night, I'll hold you up and drive you, baby, till you feel the daylight…

A low growl dragged him from the near trance of the music and Rus faltered, opening his sockets and seeing Edge. He’d nearly expected Edge to be impassive, perhaps even bored; surely he saw better than this all the time, every day there were dozens of dancers right beneath his feet with twice the skill of a clumsy beginner.

Instead, Edge’s crimson gaze was hungry, avid, his breathing heavy and obvious. Whatever Rus’s inexperience, it didn’t seem to matter in his appreciation of the view. That voraciousness seemed to call Rus from the stage, pulling him down with one trembling foot in front of the other until he was standing before Edge. The outer room seemed chilly in contrast to the lighted stage, his sweat prickling on his bones as it cooled, but it didn’t touch his inner heat, the burning in his core as Rus abruptly straddled Edge’s legs, his femurs spread wide as he settled into his lap with a writhing grind.

Before he could do anything, strong hands caught his hips in a brutal grip, stilling him, and Edge shuddered, rasping out close to his audial canal, “Don’t move.”

Rus didn’t, held very still as Edge rested his forehead against the side of his skull, sweat smearing between them as he panted. Rus could feel the hardness under him through the layers of their clothes, hot and heavy, and the urge to spread his legs wider, to grind against it, was terrible and terrifying. A whimper caught in his throat, caged behind his teeth. He wanted it, didn’t want it, didn’t know what he wanted, only sat obediently still until Edge’s breathing eased somewhat and he whispered harshly, damp breath gusting against Rus’s skull, “Go on.”

“i can’t,” Rus whispered. His soul was thrumming, wet heat settling between his own legs in an aching throb.

Edge’s voice was hardly more than a broken snarl, “Go on!”

“i can’t!” Rus cried again, almost a sob as he sat trembling on Edge’s lap, “i can’t, if i do, i’ll…i—”

i’ll come in my pants, Rus couldn’t say, how could he possible say that, no matter how true.

A short, harsh laugh vibrated against the side of his skull, Edge sneering, “What’s wrong, flower shop? Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“edge.” The name lodged in his throat, taut and desperate, an answer all its own.

“I’ll give you what you want,” Edge whispered to him, a promise and a threat in one. “all of it, you beautiful, infuriating little brat!”

“i don’t—" But the words were choked off, lost, as he was suddenly lifted, strong arms carrying him and the wall was suddenly hard against his shoulders and back, Edge hard between his legs, pinning him to the wall as his mouth covered Rus’s with greedy determination.

Rus couldn’t think, couldn’t claw his way through the tangle of his own thoughts, not with Edge’s tongue driving against his own, the same fierce rhythm rocking between his thighs, rubbing against him through the thinness of his borrowed trousers. Their bodies shifting together, hands under his knees holding him up and that hardness driving against him, a mimicry of the sex that would surely come next and—

No.

Rus tore his mouth loose in a panic, gasping wetly, “wait!”

Even he couldn’t hear that weak word, lost in the panting breaths between them, the low growl of the music, of his own soul throbbing. Rus shook his head as Edge tried to take his mouth again, struggling weakly. Both hands braced against Edge's chest was like pushing against stone as he tried again, louder, “wait! please, please stop!”

Against him, Edge stilled, slowly drawing away and looking down at him incredulously, his mouth curled into a disbelieving snarl. For one wild moment, Rus thought Edge wouldn’t, that he would only take his mouth again, take him, and there would be nothing Rus could do to stop him.

But slowly, so slowly, the iron grip on Rus’s legs eased and he was, oh, so slowly lowered, set precisely back on his wobbly feet as Edge let him go. The moment he was free, Edge turned away to sag against the wall, his forehead pressed to the cool wood, his shoulders quivering as he sucked in long, slow breaths.

It took Rus a moment to catch his own unsteady balance, his legs were wobbly at the knees, and the angry, damp throb between them almost made him regret his plea to stop. Edge’s sockets were screwed tightly shut, a bead of pinkish sweat running down his face to his chin where it briefly lingered before dripping down to leave a darkened spot on his fine shirt.

“edge?” Rus said, uncertainly.

He reached out with a trembling hand, flinching back as Edge snarled out, raw and broken, “Don’t touch me!”

Rus skittered back, biting the tip of his tongue as he watched Edge struggle for control.

“I’m sorry,” Rus said, miserably. His thwarted desire tasted like ashes on the back of his tongue, coupled with steadily growing shame as he admitted, “i didn’t want it like this. not…not angry. not like this.”

Edge didn’t lift his head from the wall, but he did turn it enough to slit open his sockets, looking at Rus, “Not like this,” Edge agreed roughly. “You don’t need to apologize, but you do need to make a choice and stop teasing around it. Make up your mind, flower shop, or it’ll end up made for you.”

That implication shouldn't make a terrifying little thrill travel up his spine, it really shouldn't.

“i’m not even sure what the choices are, anymore,” Rus complained. He sank down to the floor, sitting with his back against the wall, his arms wrapped around his upraised knees. It helped hide what his clothes tried to expose, mostly, and how could he ever have thought he could go through with stripping. “but i don’t think this is what being on the stage would be like.” For one, he was fairly sure that touching was very much against the rules. At least, he hoped so, Mona didn’t deserve to have sweaty, drunken idiots groping her.

“It isn’t,” Edge agreed, “but that job isn’t for the likes of you.”

It was true, but the assessment still stung. “but it’s okay for someone like mona, is that it?”

Edge only shrugged, unconcerned. “That’s her choice. She’s well compensated and Mona isn’t mine.”

And that right there lit his temper again like a spark against a firecracker. “neither am i!”

The way Edge smirked down at him was infuriating, “Are you so sure about that, flower shop?”

He ignored the first part of the question, entirely too afraid of the answer. “urgh, you are such an asshole! i do have a name, you know!”

“I know.” Edge crouched down suddenly, so oddly graceful for such a large person. The sight of it was tantalizing, stirring Rus’s desire anew as Edge ran a gentle finger down the side of his face and murmured, “I do know, Rus.”

Oh. Rus closed his sockets, shaken. His name sounded foreign in Edge’s mouth and suddenly Rus wanted to take it back, stash it away unspoken. Let him be someone else here, let him be the pretty flower shop boy and keep Rus away from it all, safe and unspoken. But it was too late, he’d demanded it himself, and he could only open his sockets again sorrowfully as Edge went on.

“You and your brother staying here is not conditional on being with me,” Edge told him softly. “This entire situation was my fault and I intend to keep you safe, whether you want me or not.” Edge sighed heavily. “But I don’t understand you. What is it you want from me, sweet little flower shop? You change your mind with the wind. You want me and then you don’t. You don’t want us to kill Blaze, and yet, you don’t offer an alternative. What can I do? Do you think he’ll simply forget and let you go strolling back into your life without a care?”

“no, i don’t,” Rus burst out raggedly, “i don’t know the answers. i know we can’t go back to the shop. but what’s the alternative, that i stay here forever? that only strip for you instead of the world?”

Edge offered him a sudden smirk, infuriating and arousing, “Are you suggesting that you didn’t want to dance for me?” He sobered, his smile falling away. “You don’t need to strip for anyone, get that idea out of your pretty little head right now. I told you. I’ll take care of you until you can return to your shop, no matter how long it takes.”

Rus swallowed hard, remembering Blue’s earlier anger, his accusations. It seemed like so long ago they’d been standing in the wreckage of their shop and Blue was telling him that he was irreplaceable, could it have only been a few days? So brief a time for his life to be turned upside down and slantways, his busy, boring days making floral arrangements swapped for a this, and now, Rus wasn’t so sure how his brother felt. He wasn’t sure of anything, anymore. “and if my brother doesn’t want me back?”

“I sincerely doubt there’s anything you could do that would keep your brother away from you, even being with me,” Edge said dryly. He stood then and held out a hand, “Now come on, let’s head back upstairs. I think we’ve both had enough dancing for the night.”

Rus took his hand and let himself be pulled to his feet, “don’t be angry with mona, she was only trying to help.”

“Calm yourself, I’m not angry with Mona. It’s hardly her fault,” Edge said lightly. “I can hardly be upset that she let herself get drawn into your troublesome web when I did the same.”

“me!” Rus’s mouth dropped open in outrage as he sputtered indignantly, “you’re the one who keeps saying all this is your fault!”

“I stand corrected.” Edge set a knuckle beneath Rus’s chin, tilting up his head, and whatever else Rus tried to say was smothered beneath a soft kiss, the former heat of desire muted into melting tenderness. Rus made a tiny sound of complaint as Edge drew away, rising up on his toes as he tried and failed to keep that mouth on his own. His voice was husky low, his breath a soft gust against Rus’s face as he murmured, “I’ll be sure to have someone reassure her that she’s not in any trouble.”

“who?” Rus asked dazedly, and Edge only chuckled, leaning down to kiss him again.

tbc

Notes: The song Rus was dancing to was 'Drive' by Melissa Ferrick.

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #mafia AU

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elysianrey · 3 years

Text

let me take your coat (and this weight off your shoulders)

He first notices her after his Thursday afternoon therapy session with Dr. Raynor.

His brain begins to automatically profile her as it does with most people he interacts with these days. Short. At least 5’3”. Petite frame. Shoulder length, brown hair. Soft features. Brown eyes. Mid 30s. Jittery legs. Twisting fingers.

Old habits die hard, he supposes.

She’s sitting in the waiting area of the mental health facility, eyes briefly meeting as his footsteps fall past her chair on his way out of the office.

She looks familiar.

Her eyes echo the same sentiment of recognition, which causes an uneasy feeling to creep into the pit of his stomach. His fingers tighten around the small leather notebook in his jacket pocket. The moment is broken as he shifts his attention back to the polished flooring.

His gloved hand pushes the door open, leaving the brunette woman alone.

He spends the evening rifling through the pages of his notebook. His mind shuffles through the faces like an old film roll. Then he hits replay after his initial check.

Again.

He combs his fingers through his hair as he leans against the wall of his apartment. He lets out a small sigh of relief.

No connections to her are in the book.

It becomes a habit for him every Thursday.

Leave Dr. Raynor’s office. Walk through the lobby. Make eye contact with the brunette woman, whom he still can’t seem to place. Consider acknowledging her with a grin. Decide against it. Look down at the ground. Leave the facility.

He realizes he’s capable of acting more- human? Normal? Like an actual functioning adult in the twenty-first century. Dr. Raynor kindly reminds him of it every session, and yet, the creeping feeling of self-doubt never fails to get the better of him.

Yesterday.

Today.

And probably tomorrow.

She’s not in the waiting area the following Thursday.

His feet pick up their pace to exit the facility that day, seeing as he has no real reason to take his time. His chest twinges in disappointment, despite having no good reason to. He doesn’t even know her name. In fact, the only real thing he knows about her is that she meets with a therapist on Thursday afternoons. Like him.

Which meant she was working through some stuff. Like him.

As he approaches the door, his eyes focused on the ground, the force of a body slamming into him nearly knocks him on his ass. His hands instinctively rise to steady the person apparently in a rush today. Then his breath catches upon realizing who is standing between his outstretched arms.

Her eyes are red-rimmed, cheeks puffy, and when she lifts her head to apologize, she suddenly begins to aggressively wipe away the tears streaming down her cheeks. Embarrassment mixing with the despair she is clearly experiencing.

He stammers. “I—are you ok—?”

Before he can finish his question, she pulls back and cuts him off. “I’m so sorry—I really have to—“

She stumbles around him and disappears past the receptionist and down the hall without another word, leaving him feeling confused and concerned all at the same time.

He spends the next week worrying about her.

It’s better than worrying about his own demons.

Strangely, it gives his brain a small sense of relief.

Dr. Raynor has to reschedule for Friday.

He leaves flowers at the receptionist desk and tells them they’re for the brunette woman who comes in at 3.

He hopes she gets them.

She’s approaching him before he has the chance to register her appearance in the lobby. Her small, yet self-assured frame blocks his exit to the double doors. She’s speaking and he immediately picks up that she uses her hands to get her point across.

“Hi. I just want to apologize for what happened a couple weeks ago. I hope I didn’t cause too much damage to—,” her right hand does a sweeping motion across his chest. “Anyway... my name is Jane. Jane Foster.” The woman extends her hand, eyes finally meeting his directly.

She’s nervous. Hesitant.

He takes it in his gloved, vibranium hand and gives it a gentle shake. “James. And don’t worry about it.” She smiles and he returns the effort out of politeness.

She drops his hand and brushes a loose piece of hair behind her ear. “Well, it was nice to meet you James. I better head—“ She finishes her sentence by pointing in the opposite direction, toward the hallway of therapist offices.

He gives her a nod, stepping out of her way. Jane starts past him and before she can get too far, the words slip out of his mouth.

“Would you want to maybe grab a drink sometime?” James can’t help but inwardly cringe at the awkward bluntness in the question, however there’s no going back now.

Jane turns and bites down on her lower lip. “Yeah,” she replies. “Yeah that would be nice.”

James sits on his makeshift bed in his apartment living room, scrolling through the contacts on his phone list. Sam. Shuri. Dr. Raynor. Clint. His apartment manager.

And now Jane Foster.

Dr. Raynor wasn’t kidding when she chastised him for only having ten contacts. At least he had added one name to his list.

They were meeting tonight at 8 pm. She suggested a small, trendy downtown bar that had a bizarre name he couldn’t prounounce. He wonders if this date was going to be like all the others.

Fake. Stiff. Unbearable.

A small part of him tries to insist that Jane is different. Sure, he can’t logically reason how he knows this, yet he can’t shake the feeling she is different in some way to the other women he’s met since his return.

He’s right.

She’s unlike anyone woman he’s ever met in the twenty-first century.

It’s not hard to get Jane talking about herself, and once he does, he spends nearly the rest of the evening listening to her talk about her work with space.

He learns she’s an astrophysicist and she’s in New York working at the Simons Foundation. She disappeared during The Blip too and now she’s trying to make up for the 5 years she lost. Jane’s passion for learning more about the universe captivates him. She shares some of the theories she has about other universes that may exist and he’s left in awe as she paints pictures into his mind of periwinkle planets, alien lifeforms, and methods of possibly meeting them.

She doesn’t get the chance to ask him many questions, which is a relief.

Her laughter is light, the alcohol clearly easing the weight of the world that she wears like a prisoner around her shoulders. He doesn’t know what she was like before whatever shit got to her, but he enjoys seeing Jane this way. Carefree.

He asks if he can see her again.

She says yes.

She texts him about an upcoming Celestial event. A telescope will allow you to see Saturn’s rings and moons all night if the sky is clear.

He buys a telescope and sets it up on the roof of his apartment building and spends hours watching Saturn from his point on Earth. It makes him feel like a small speck in comparison to everything beyond this planet. He wants to find out more of what this life has to offer before it’s too late and it reminds him of his effort of making amends for his past sins.

Clearly he still has a lot of work to do.

She admits that she did some digging and she knows who he really is on their third date. He supposes he’s not too surprised at her inquisitiveness, but her declaration suddenly makes him feel entirely exposed and vulnerable.

They’re sitting in the corner of a quiet coffee shop and James eyes the nearest exit because his chest is contracting and the air is not meeting his lungs like it should. His heart hammers in his chest as hard as his metal fist did against the cryogenic cage Hyrda imprisoned him in time and time again.

“I have a friend who is pretty skilled at finding out about people,” she continues lowly, toying at the ceramic coffee cup. “I just—didn’t feel right lying to you about it. You looked familiar when I saw you in Dr. Raynor’s office that first day.”

He tries to relax the muscles in his neck and shoulders. “No, I understand. So I guess you know I’m pretty messed up then?” He had never personally seen his own file, however it wasn’t hard to imagine what it contained.

Jane let out a breathy laugh, as if she couldn’t quite believe what he said. “Aren’t we all, James?”

The weather is nice enough to start meeting in Central Park and they begin taking strolls around the park during her lunch breaks every day. They play a game where he gets to ask her a question about her past and then she gets to ask him a question about his past and they have to answer honestly. Maybe it’s reminiscent of his meetings with Dr. Raynor, yet James is willing to open up because Jane is too, and he recognizes it’s not easy for either of them.

Sometimes they only get through one question, the memories being too painful, and in those moments, their fingers tentatively find the others. It’s reassuring, this insignificant brush of skin against glove, and James suddenly wishes he wasn’t wearing the gloves. It’s been too long since he’s felt the touch of another against his bare skin.

He decides to take the right one off when he’s with her. James makes sure he’s standing on her left side for their walks and his heart flips in his chest when she unexpectedly intertwines her fingers with his. She gives him a squeeze and he returns it, an actual smile ghosting the corners of his lips.

Maybe his eyes are playing tricks on him or maybe it’s just the sun, but he swears he sees a faint blush creeping up her fair cheeks.

She invites him over to the apartment the foundation is paying rent for after her therapy session. Jane insists that she is more than capable of making something for the both of them that tops the usual take out they have a habit of settling for when they hang out together. So he can’t help but let out a chuckle and a teasing comment when he walks into a smoking kitchen and the fire alarm beeping wildly while a flustered Jane is scrambling to turn off the oven where a blackened chicken resides.

They end up ordering their usual take out.

At the end of their sushi dinner, Jane sets her empty container on the coffee table in front of them and leans back into the armchair, tucking her feet beneath her. She’s oddly quiet and he stares from his spot across on the couch. Her brown eyes gaze distantly out the wall-length windows, her brilliant brain lost in thought.

He doesn’t mind the silence, of course, yet he feels a tug to pull her back from wherever she’s gone off to. “Do you ever dance?”

Her lips curve upward. “Only if you count when I’m by myself and I have the radio blaring.”

James smiles at the mental image of a goofy Jane, throwing her arms and legs about in no particular rhythm. “Back in the 40s, I was known around the town for my swing dancing moves,” he informs her casually with a cock of his eyebrow.

She laughs, shooting him a mock expression of awe. “James Buchanan Barnes, I had no idea you were such a man of many talents.”

He nonchalantly shrugs and then practically bounces off the couch, extending his concealed, left hand to her. “It’s time you learn a move or two today, Ms. Foster.”

They rearrange some of Jane’s furniture around to make an adequate amount of space that won’t end in destruction. He begins by teaching her the basic steps, leading her slowly through each one until she insists she’s ready to go on to the next. He finds it ironic that out of all the damage Hydra did to his brain, he can still remember one of his favorite weekend activities from when he was a young man. Well, he’s still pretty young compared to his friends who were with him at the time.

If he’s being honest, Jane was born with two left feet, but she is determined to try regardless of her uncoordinated legs. By the end of the night, he gives her the name of a song to play on her Bluetooth speakers and they’re dancing away, Jane doing her best to keep up with the beat and James laughing every time she steps on his feet again.

He’s convinced he could stay in this moment forever.

She surprises him by taking them to a jazz and swing dance club.

He swears he’s in love with her by the end of the evening.

He kisses her for the first time when they’re standing on the doorstep of her apartment.

James is leaving Dr. Raynor’s office, ready to get as far away as possible from the head spinning forest wallpaper he’s stuck in front of every session when her words stop him in his tracks.

“You’re helping her, you know.”

He’s never said her name when they discuss her in his sessions. He assumed Jane saw Dr. Raynor too, seeing as she was connected to the superhero world, yet she’s never told him and he’s never asked.

He looks over his shoulder at the older woman, his hand still on the doorknob. “Actually, I think it’s the other way around.”

He has not made love to someone since before he was drafted into the war so when an evening of drinking and card games turns into take off one article of clothing every time you lose a game, James begins to sweat. He has a feeling he knows where this is leading when she’s seated on top of him, clad in only her undergarments, her hips grinding into his mercilessly.

It turns out she’s not a very good card player.

His mouth is connected to her neck, breathing a trail of wet kisses up to her ear where he bites down softly on the tip of her earlobe and she lets out a tiny whimper that nearly ends him then and there.

Her hands wander under the hem of his long-sleeved shirt and he freezes when she starts to tug the material upward. She senses his apparent discomfort and stops, looking down at him.

She’s picked up on the fact that he’s sensitive about the metal arm. “Sorry,” she whispers. “If you don’t want to take it off that’s—“

He knows he’s ready. He knows it’s time to stop living in fear about what others will think of the hideous seam binding the vibranium to flesh. “No, I do. Just give me a second.”

He sits up and she shifts off of him, unsure of his next move. It takes her by surprise when he sweeps her off the ground in a single motion, carrying her to the bedroom and placing her carefully on the mattress. His hands go to either side of the hem of his shirt and he tugs it off, standing bare chested before her, his silver dog tags resting against the rise and fall of his heavy breathing.

She stares, drinking him all in. The defined muscle. The trail of dark hair leading below the waistband of his underwear. The scars from years of battling ‘the enemy.’ Then finally, his metal arm, the leather glove still secure on his left hand. Jane rises to her knees, taking both of his hands and tugging him closer to which he does not oblige.

He wants her desperately. Wants to put his mouth all over her. Wants to hear her say his name. Wants to feel every inch of her on his skin.

“May I?” she asks, glancing down, fingers ghosting his skin. He nods and suddenly she’s running her fingers over his chest and her fingers sear, burning him, making him feel more alive than he’s felt in the past 80 years.

He allows her to touch every inch of him, noting how she studies the outer workings of his arm in true Jane-fashion, and when she decides to replace her fingers with her lips instead upon reaching the seam of his shoulder and arm, he lets out a moan. James is certain this woman will be the end of him.

He loses himself in her in more than one way that night. When she takes him, he begs her to call him ‘Bucky’ because he’s tired of acting like the name of a man he never had been in the first place.

He falls asleep that night to the memory of her voice whimpering ‘Bucky,’ ‘Bucky,’ ‘Bucky’ as if it were a prayer on her lips.

There are no nightmares.

Dr. Raynor comments on his unusual openness at their next session.

She doesn’t even have to threaten him with the notebook that day.

“Vulnerability is the essence of connection and connection is the essence of existence.” - Leo Christopher

Longing.

Rusted.

Seventeen.

Daybreak.

Furnace.

Nine.

Benign.

Homecoming.

One.

Freight car.

The string of phrases are weaving their way into his skull and he’s trapped. There’s no escape from their cruel entrapment. He must obey. He was engineered to carry out the missions. No, he doesn’t want to obey. Fight back. Fighting makes it worse. Fighting means pain until he can fight no longer.

Obey. Must obey. The mission. See that it’s carried out to completion. No witnesses. No survivors.

Bucky jolts awake in her bed, beads of sweat pooling across his brow. He’s gasping for breath and everything that’s touching him only makes his heart beat faster. He yanks the blankets off of him and sinks down against the wall facing the bed, trying to take in his surroundings and focus on what’s real. Hydra can no longer control him. He is no longer their puppet.

He pulls on the dog tags around his neck, using them as something to stabilize his unstable mind. His eyes slide open and he sees her sitting up in bed, watching him silently, her brow twisted in concern.

“Just a bad dream,” he comments quietly, inhaling through his nose, pausing, and exhaling through his mouth.

She remains unmoving for a moment.

“I get them too. Sometimes it feels like the aether is still inside me. Controlling my mind. Forcing me to bend to its wishes.” He’s only heard bits and pieces of her time on Asgard, Thor and Loki’s home planet. It’s still strange to think about the life that exists beyond Earth.

He wants to tell her more about Hydra, but he doesn’t.

“Think I’m going to stay down here for a little longer. Is it weird that I find the floor softer than the bed?”

“We all have our ways of coping,” she muses with a half smile.

He wonders what hers happen to be.

They spend many nights together watching the starry sky from his apartment rooftop. Jane sits between his arms, pointing out the major constellations, sharing ancient stories of how they got their names.

Bucky listens to her words, her voice, drift through the close space they occupy. His eyes grow heavy with tiredness, his chin resting on the crown of her head.

He could listen to her talk about space until the end of time.

“Are you ever going to answer him?” Jane inquires casually, settling down beside him on the couch. She grabs a blanket and tosses it over their legs.

She doesn’t have to say his name to know whose she’s referring to. His name appears on his phone screen nearly every day. “Maybe,” he responds indifferently.

Jane gives him a look that tells him she’s not going to let this one go. “He’s clearly worried about you. How hard would it be just to update him about how things are going?”

He wants to answer with ‘nearly impossible,’ however he has a feeling she won’t drop it if he lets the words slip.

“Just think about it, okay?” Jane must have picked up on the fact it was going to be a losing battle.

He nods.

“You sent the flowers that day in the office, didn’t you?” Her breath catches sharply when he bites down on her inner thigh, then immediately tends to the bite with his lips, moving them closer and closer to his objective.

“Yes,” he reveals, that day in the office, far from what he’s currently fixated on. She whimpers his name once he finds his source.

He can’t remember the last name he’s felt this angry. Bucky paces back and forth in his apartment, trying to calm down, trying to think rationally.

She’s leaving.

She’s going back to London.

Her work in New York was only temporary and she has no choice but to go home to continue her research with her colleagues.

The time he assumed they had left together has vanished. She promises they will keep in touch. She’s only a phone call away.

It’s not the same though.

It’s not the same.

“You’ve helped, you know,” she murmurs, nestled cozily in his arms. Her fingers play with his dog tags while he stares at shadows on her ceiling bedroom, trying with all his might to will her to stay if he just never lets her out of his grasp.

His eyebrows knit together. “Helped create more problems in your life?” he teases and she retaliates by giving the dog tags a tug.

“When I came back to New York, all I wanted was to be able to talk to someone about the shit life has thrown at me. That’s part of the reason I started seeing Dr. Raynor,” she admits, nuzzling deeper into his hold. “You listened and you cared, Bucky. I don’t know what I’m going to do in London without someone who actually gets it.”

He wonders the same thing.

On the day she leaves, he finally decides to text Sam back.

She was right.

Sam was worried about him.

He chooses honesty over the typical response of ‘I’m fine’ for once.

I’ve had better days, he writes. He’ll tell Sam more about it when they see each other again.

It’s a Thursday afternoon when he sees him sitting in the chair next to her old spot.

He’s about his height (Bucky’s taller, of course). Black hair, cut close to his head. Brown eyes. And a smug smile that makes him want to punch it right off his face with his metal fist.

Sam rises from his seat and goes in for a hug. “Long time, no see, grandpa,” he jokes, pulling back and poking him in the chest.

Bucky rolls his eyes, a grin breaking across his face. “Yeah, yeah. Missed you too,” he says, pushing him away and starting toward the doors.

“You’ve got a lot of explaining to do. But it might have to wait until after we take care of business,” Sam states, trailing after him.

He wants to protest. Sam’s the last one he wants to talk about the events of the past few months with, but he’s got no one else left.

Bucky figures he’ll have to settle for him.

For now.

#jane foster x bucky barnes #bucky and jane #winterphysics #james bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes #jane foster #my trashy fic #I have no good explanation #but I am pretty proud of it #both of my bbs need a hug

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