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#it's been a questionable time with questionable thoughts and questionable actions and it is what it is. i do not care how cliche i am
tender-rosiey · 3 days
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plsss would u do sukuna taking care of his pregnant wife? like noticing his robes keep disappearing, only to figure out its his wife. or more dad!kuna 🙏🏾
robes — ryomen sukuna x f!reader
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a/n: me👰‍♀️ ➕ 👹heianera!sukuna
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sukuna is a deeply preceptive man.
it’s something he prides himself over, and since he is observant, he quickly notices that his robes start going missing.
in the beginning, he thinks that it’s probably the increased number of bloodied robes because he has been going on a higher number of rampages the past couple of days.
so, he goes to uraume to inquire about why the delivery of his robes has been later than usual.
uraume quickly responds that they have been personally delivering the clean robes to his chambers and ensuring that they are placed where he can clearly see them.
the revelation makes sukuna annoyed because that means that someone has been stealing his robes directly from his chambers.
he is presented with two courses of actions—excluding the option of saving himself the trouble and just killing all the servants: sending uraume to spy on the whole ordeal or investigate it himself.
considering how he has been pretty bored the past couple of days, he decides on the latter. the past few rampages have given a clear warning to the rest of the villages surrounding his castle.
so, with nothing else to do, sukuna takes it upon himself to monitor the main entrance of his chambers to see whether anybody enters the room after uraume places the robes in the room.
so, he situates himself near the room but far away so that they can’t catch him.
he stays there for a good couple of hours, yet he sees no one, not even in the darkness of the night: the supposed prime time for a thief.
perhaps the thief has been made aware of sukuna’s inspection? but that would mean that the robes would still be in the chambers. so, sukuna enters his room in search of his robes, but, to his surprise, he doesn’t find them.
that immediately leads him to concluding that whoever is stealing his robes is someone who has access to the hidden door of his room.
and no one knows about that door except—
“y/n.”
you yelp and slowly turn to your husband. he is standing there, arms crossed, brows furrowed, and an everlasting frown on his face. you have been caught and are in some big trouble.
you don’t falter immediately though. you try to act normal. you smile nervously, “yes, my love? is something bothering you?”
keyword: try.
he repeats your name lowly, and you quickly crumble. you visibly deflate and lower your head as you murmur, “yes…”
he nods in satisfaction before asking the awaited question, “where are my robes?”
your hands rest on your lap, and you fidget with your fingers.
you still can’t figure out what his reaction will be. so far, he is just gathering information. he is giving you nothing to work with, so you have no other option but to comply and just keep answering him.
sighing, you answer him, “my closet.”
he quirks an eyebrow and sits in front of you. his hand is placed on your head, and he raises your head, so you’re looking him in the eyes. it’s something that you have noticed only being done to you.
you had absentmindedly asked your head servant about it, and said servant, uraume, had told you that it’s because he views you as an equal and does not take pleasure in your fear and acting inferior to him.
and in the end, sukuna only does what pleases him. if it doesn’t please him then why do it?
he hums as if in thought before egging you on, “and why are my robes in your closet? in fact—” he smirks, eyes observing your frame, “why are you currently wearing my robes?”
you pull the robes tighter around yourself, and you purse your lips. sukuna wants an answer right now, and while he is enjoying your ‘suffering’, but he also wants to know what’s wrong.
if there is anything that he hates then it’s not knowing, especially if it’s something about you, his very pregnant wife.
his hand travels to your jaw, and he grips it lightly.
“so?” he says as he tilts your head to the slide slightly.
“you…have been gone for longer than usual lately, and I have been missing you,” you admit softly as you try your best to maintain eye contact, but you end up looking away.
he is still silent, so you continue laying out your reasoning, “and for some reason, the robes alleviate the pregnancy pain. I couldn’t find any logical or scientific reason, but I think—
—it’s because the robes are filled with your cursed energy, maybe acting as a kind of assurance to the baby that you are beside us even if you aren’t.”
he doesn’t grace you with any reaction nor reply for quite a while, and it makes you think that he is probably thinking about how foolish the entire scenario is.
so, you add hesitantly, “or something like that…”
after a moment, though, he sighs and simply says, “you could’ve just asked me, you foolish woman.”
you blink confused, “and you, my ‘no one takes what’s mine’ husband, would’ve allowed that?”
“you, idiot, are mine, so my belongings are yours anyway,” he states, and his hands rest on your stomach, “this is mine too, so you have to take good care of it.”
a smile takes over your face, and you nod happily, “of course, I will!”
you pause for a second, and it has sukuna confused.
you frown and you point your finger at him while reprimanding him, “and don’t call me an idiot, mister! I am your wife, and I am blessed with a good name.”
a pinch is delivered to your butt which makes you shriek. you jump away from you husband and start rubbing the spot in attempt to soothe it.
sukuna smiles wickedly before suggesting, “how about I help you with that?”
“no! keep your hands off of me, you brute!”
he chuckles, and it echoes throughout the room. it’s kind of creepy. you always said that you wanted to add more furniture to avoid that situation.
you start thinking about the new design for the room when your husband speaks up, “and regarding my absence the past few of days.”
you turn your head to him, and he continues, “I will be putting my plans on pause for a while, so you don’t have to resort to the robes for the time.”
he turns his back to you before announcing, “I am expecting you at dinner and later in my chamber. is that clear?”
you feel giddiness fill you up, and you reply enthusiastically, “yes, my king!”
“good,” he smirks.
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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May I ask why you dislike Malleus so much?
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[My TWST character tier list is here.]
[For context on why I dislike Malleus: here and here!]
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Many of the reasons previously cited above are still applicable presently (though some points may be outdated since those posts were written before book 7). In this post, I will mostly be focusing on why my thoughts on Malleus have not changed despite the new added content of book 7.
I ramble on for a bit, so I put my thoughts below the cut! Ah—but before you read, please be aware that these are my opinions and not meant to be disparaging to any Malleus likers out there.
Me disliking him should not take away any of your joy!! Go out there and love him for me ^^
A lot of the things happening in book 7 were a long time coming, so really I felt as though Malleus finally “losing it” was affirming of all the red flags from before. Since day 1, his loneliness, aloofness, and awkwardness around his peers were key traits of his. What book 7 does is it magnifies the darkest aspects of his character.
We’ve seen several examples when Malleus has fits of rage and his power flares out of control or he at least threatens it. In Glorious Masquerade, he becomes enraged at the realization that the invitation he received was a false one. In A Firelit Sky, he insinuates that he would be upset if people questioned his presence for the trip. He crushes Lilia’s phone in his own Dorm Uniform vignettes, destroying a friend’s belonging because he was upset about not being invited to an occasion. In book 7, we see a flashback of Malleus freezing the whole castle as a child because his grandmother, overtaken by her duties, could no longer dine with him as promised. Malleus’s temper has been a persistent issue since childhood.
We’ve also seen him act callously toward his classmates and misuse magic to force his will upon them. Remember him stopping time during Endless Halloween Night? How he wanted some ghosts to enjoy themselves instead of missing out on being with everyone for the holiday? Now he’s stopping time in book 7 and keeping everyone in their happy dreams forever. Remember how (in his Dorm Uniform vignettes) Malleus thought it would be easier to make the other dorm leaders come to him instead of him coming to them for their meeting? So then he disregards their autonomy and casts magic that’s normally cast on objects on living beings (something which the other dorm leaders take offense to, as it is dehumanizing). He fails to consider their perspective when he returns to Diasomnia (he basically goes, “well, I wouldn’t have been mad if they cast that spell on me!”). Malleus learns nothing from the experience despite Lilia trying to tell him over and over to be more considerate of others and how different they are from him. Now we have Malleus relating his peers to a virtual pet that he never ever wants to leave him.
Malleus can be stubborn and arrogant. He has a very single-minded way of thinking and often does not consider others’ feelings before he makes the decision for them. Malleus can be insecure. He doesn’t even fully realize he is lonely until Yuu suggests it in book 7, but he’s capable of acting on his bouts of intense emotion. He has always had these flaws, and now they are being brought out in full; we’re being forced to confront OB Malleus and all the complicated, twisting feelings of abandonment that come with him.
Let’s make one thing very clear: I don’t take issue with the overblot boys in general; they are meant to be morally grey characters that act in dubious ways. It would be insincere for me to claim “I dislike Malleus because he did bad things!” News flash, many TWST characters have done bad things or at least questionable things that would give you pause. What separates Malleus from the others and makes him egregious enough to earn significant ire from me is the particular actions he takes (which triggers a personal disdain of mine).
Malleus consistently exerts a scary amount of control over others. This is not a new idea; Riddle and Vil are also notorious for being oppressive or controlling, and I’ll be the first to admit that. (You’ll note that those two are low on my tier list too.) The thing is, Riddle and Vil were very overt and open about their demands for obedience. Malleus can be too, but it’s so insidious how he acts within the dreams. He ignores people’s autonomy, gaslights others, and, again, acts like he knows what’s best for them 💀 Other characters have done these things too, but never to the same scale or by exerting this much power. Malleus then resorts to violence when his lies don’t work, even though he’s fully aware of the power disparity between him and his peers. It feels particularly scummy to me because of how Malleus frames his selfish actions and feelings (his wish for Lilia to not leave) as selfless (for the benefit of his peers) and something everyone else would want in order to justify it to himself 💦 I know he is in (or bordering on) overblot so he wasn’t thinking rationally at that point, plus the fact that many examples I listed come from events or vignettes which may not be canon to the main story timeline. Still, there is a concerning pattern of behavior with Malleus misusing his powers or not being considerate of others and failing to grow from those mistakes. You can only go “oopsie” so many times before you harm someone by accident. I expect people to learn their lesson by then and adopt some proper restraint. He keeps claiming his intentions are good as if that’s supposed to dismiss any harm that results from his actions??? No, his actions still harmed people and he has to deal with the consequences of them, not have them hand-waved away or excused. The behavior I’m witnessing is reminiscent of like… having a toxic friend that is constantly told “hey, what you’re doing/saying makes me feel uncomfortable; do you think you could dial it back?” and the friend tells you they’ll try but then never actually changes their behavior or defends their behavior with “I didn’t mean to, so therefore I did not actually harm anyone”.
You can give me a backstory, but a backstory only goes so far as explaining why he is the way he is; it does not excuse him at all. You can say “He’s a fairy! He’s sheltered!” until the cows come home, but when he relies on magic to quickly fix the problems he caused instead of stopping to genuinely reflect on why people are mad at him, it’s hard for me to sympathize. Because of his immense power and status, the only person that can reasonably hold Malleus accountable is himself, and he has not demonstrated to me that he can do that.
Book 7 is essentially the payoff for allllll the tropes and traits I never liked to begin with coming into fruition. That’s why Malleus has stayed where he is in my TWST character ranking. I did not expect the writing, no matter how good or tear-jerking, to change that. Until Malleus shows that he’s fully apologetic, recognizes the error of his ways, and consciously tries to connect with others and understand their perspectives, he’s staying squarely where he is.
Am I saying a character with flaws is a bad thing? No, absolutely not! Flaws are what make a character interesting, I’m not faulting Malleus or any other characters for having them. Am I saying that he is poorly written? No, I think Malleus is actually quite a complex character and he’s been really fascinating to follow. I love the emotional complexity of book 7–and it was so clever how the devs related his virtual pet to wishing for happily ever afters for people in his real life. This magnitude of danger is also just about what I expect of book 7 and the themes of togetherness that TWST was angling for from the start. But the fact remains unchanged that I perceive his attitude as irritating at best and reprehensible at worst.
My distaste for Malleus is based entirely on my own views and life experiences. The specific flaws Malleus has and how he acts because of them don’t sit well with me and the kinds of things I enjoy in fiction. It’s not anything deeper than that!
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kkuzushi · 2 days
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“ 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗵 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 ”
✦ 𝗰haracters: sub!albedo x dom!reader
✦ 𝗰w: handjob, sensory deprivation; blindfolding & bondage, sensitive birthmark, fingering (giving), overstimulation, (sort of) public ‘sex’, no pronouns for reader
✦ 𝘄ord count: 1.10k
✦ 𝗻otes: I’ve been missing this pretty boy so much, I just wanna turn him into a moaning mess. TT
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Snowflakes fall gently to the ground, slowly covering the mountain with soft snow. The chilly atmosphere was more bearable now, mixed with the crackling sound of the bonfire behind you. The warmth of the fire relaxed your being, exhaustion wearing off from your body.
The stillness of the moment is accompanied with the heavy breathing of a blonde alchemist. The elegant heaving sparked your thoughts, how could someone be so beautiful just by the way their body shudders with every stroke of your hand?
“a-ah..! not so fastm-ngH! ♡” Albedo whimpered, voice cracking slightly as the speed of your hand on his cock surprised him. Despite his pleas of slowing down, his hips bucks onto your palm, wanting to receive more contact.
His head tilts back, if it wasn’t for the blindfold, you’d see the expression he has right now. The delicate appearance of his face mixed with his eyes rolling, oh it was arousing just to think about.
Alas, you have to control the temptation—depriving Albedo of sight to surprise him with every touch you give him. To add to his platter, his wrists are tied behind his back with red ropes, restricting him from breaking free of your grasp.
With his head tilted back, his pale neck was exposed, showing the four pointed star birthmark embedded to his skin. It was a wonderful sight; an eye-catching one at that.
Your head leaned down, lips making contact with his neck, directly on his birthmark. "guhAh~?!" a surprised moan left the chemist’s mouth, losing his sense of sight really leveled up the thrill of your actions.
His neck was showered with kisses, some bites here and there to mark his skin—all of it made Albedo squirm and whimper, his fingers curling inwards till his knuckles turned white.
"If you c-continue.. I'll– mmHNGH! ♡ ♡" His words were cut off as soon as he came on his work desk, making a mess on your palm. Albedo's body trembled with every cum that spilled out of him, whimpering as he tried to suppress his noises.
As he takes his time to calm down, you wipe your hand with a nearby towel before continuing with what you had in mind.
"Let's move on to phase two, shall we?" You asked rhetorically, pushing him down to the table gently, his back arching as if on command. Your hands reached down, caressing the supple skin of his ass.
Albedo laid half his body on the work desk, still breathing quite heavily after his release. The caresses on his rear was comforting to say the least, despite the fact that he can't really know your intentions for the next phase of the experiment.
"‘bedo," you cooed his name, "how many fingers am I holding?" a smile on your lips, it was unseeable but he could hear it directly from your tone.
The question confused him though, he was wearing a blindfold, how would he know?
"What exactly do you mean? I can't se– nghAH–!"
"How many fingers?"
"T-two.."
Two fingers were inserted in his puffy hole, it was tight and wet. You took your time playing around him, eliciting gasps out of his pretty mouth. His ass stays up in the air, slowly going back and forth into your fingers, squelching sounds coming out of it.
Your fingers reach deeper within his walls, causing a breathy whine out of him. A sudden thrust, hitting his prostate, the whine turns to a louder moan. His back arching as your finger curls inwards, his mouth hangs open as you continue ramming the squishy spot.
The alchemist's head throws back as he starts salivating on his desk, legs trembling as he tries to stay sane from the amount of sheer pleasure he's getting from your fingers alone.
Another finger was added, abusing his wet hole before he let out a soft cry, "I'm.. mngh–! gonna cum..! ♡" Cock twitching while ropes of cum shoots out, back arching sharply with his tongue lolling out of his mouth. His entire body flinched as his orgasm lasted for a minute or two, finding the trouble of calming down.
A mere touch on his body causes him to flinch, he’s so sensitive that a slight brush of your fingertips could make him whimper. You grab his left thigh, lifting it up and placing it on the desk, “We’re getting to the end of this experiment,” you hummed.
The anticipation makes him weak, with one leg lifted up, you can see his cock. He was still hard, despite cumming twice already. He feels your hand once more, stroking his tip, emitting a surprised “gAH–!” out of him. As if that wasn’t enough, your fingers entered his hole again.
“W-Wait..! mmNgh hA-Ahh..! Too shenshitiveee!! ♡ ♡” Albedo bites his lower lip, trying to bottle up his moans yet it was futile. Everything felt too good, the stroking on his tip mixed with his hole getting fingered? It was all too much. The alchemist could barely contain himself, his mind was through overdrive with the pleasure you’re giving him.
He was no longer being quiet, his body was almost thrashing as he couldn’t restrain himself. If he wasn’t tied up right now, he’d be clawing the table. hard.
“a-ah! ah! t-too muchhhffghh–it’s too muchggAhH! ♡” The alchemist continued to babble until it turned into incoherent noises along with moans he can’t suppress any longer. His thoughts were fogged up, only thinking about how you’re stroking him with greater pace, three fingers hitting his prostate. He was being overstimulated to his core.
There was no surprise if his voice turned hoarse the next morning, all that matters is he’s enjoying his time, not that he could think of anything else anyway. “ohmmm– can’t anymorhgg..! chuminggghh–!! ♡ ♡ ♡”
The sluttiest moan came out of Albedo, his cock releasing again on your palm, slowly dripping down the floor. You took your fingers out of his hole to hold his waist, supporting his trembling body from falling down the desk. His back stayed arched, mouth hanging open as he continued to voice out his release. Loud pants came out of the alchemist, feeling the exhaustion hitting his body after three orgasms.
Once his noise dies down, you slowly remove the blindfold on his eyes, revealing the stream of tears now spilling to his cheeks. His eyes were glossy, daze and exhaustion mixed in his expression. “Did you enjoy that experiment?” you murmured yet he gave no reply.
His breath hitched as he gave a slight nod, unable to move too much. The way Albedo acts during his afterglow was amusing, you giggled and kissed his cheek, “Then we can conclude this experiment a success.”
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starseungs · 2 days
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a dream and a dance. hjs.
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han jisung x gn!reader — dreaming was a lot harder as an adult than it was back when you were but a small kid. but maybe—just maybe, you could indulge in this dream come true for once.
genre/s — fluff, pinch of angst, post-grad au(?) • 2.0k words
warning/s — alcohol, setting is in a nightclub, life is hard (idk how to explain this)
note — inspired by han's new skz-record: 1,2,3,4,5 ! its a bit rushed since i wanted to post it before i fell asleep, and the proofreading was done in a haze cz i have a shitty migraine. also i know nothing about nightclubs but this was the theme that came to mind so im just basing off vibes 😭
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Dream while you’re still young—while you still can.
Growing up, that line had always been an integral part of your life. You still remember the first time you heard it; the soft hushes of your beloved grandmother as she handed you a bowl of freshly cut fruit on a particularly hot day. The six-year-old you once were was staring at the person behind the television, starry-eyed, as you studied the figure’s actions with intent. You could faintly recall a question being asked in that hushed living room, something along the lines of whether or not you found what they were doing interesting. It was a hazy memory for detailed descriptions, but you could imagine your younger self positively replying with an excited squeal, one fit for a child of that age, which would’ve been followed by the line that you’d have kept in your heart for the rest of your life.
As one would, you’ve cycled through your fair share of these so-called dreams in the duration of your early lifetime. There was a time in third grade where you made up your mind to become a science teacher—the thought quickly being replaced just a mere two years later when you found a sudden interest in becoming a chef. Sixth grade you talked big for their age, claiming that they would open their own restaurant after graduating culinary school, despite not knowing a single thing about cooking other than all the hours spent bingeing MasterChef. You would always get a laugh out of the memory, knowing that it, too, was but a short-lived dream of a young mind still easily impressed by the world around them.
The pattern of switching life aspirations continued past elementary, and throughout your hectic high school years. With the constant new experiences you faced day to day, it was inevitable that eventually you would start seeing everything in a different light. It was part of the maturing process, you’d come to realize a few years later—getting hit by the epiphany that you no longer went through your 24-hour cycle the same way you did back when you were ten. It was a bittersweet revelation, one that ended with you looking up old shows you used to watch and playing episodes until the sunrise before forcing yourself out of bed to get ready for class. 
That wasn’t the first time you pulled an all-nighter, but it was the first one that made you feel calm throughout the day despite severely lacking sleep. 
College came around, and now you had to face yet another hurdle in your journey: admitting that you had absolutely no idea what you were doing anymore. You were attending university—check. You were in a program you personally chose—check. You had a decent social life—check; or maybe half a point, since you didn’t exactly have much time to hang out with any of them, instead opting for promises of catching up that were slowly building in number but barely decreasing. Before you knew it, the degree life was slowly eating all of the dreams that were left inside of you, leaving you with a semi-paved path completely devoid of color. What was once a garden littered with numerous flowers of the rainbow now had wilted into dehydrated brownish hues, layed lifelessly beside the narrow road.
Perhaps your grandmother was right. Dreaming was a lot harder as an adult than it was back when you were but a small kid.
Still, you pushed through, just to see the end. There was no use turning back when you had already crawled your way up this high. All that was left for you if you did was a fall so hard that you doubt you’d even be able to recover. The image alone made you shiver, prompting you to lift the glass of liquor towards your mouth, letting the sip travel down your throat and feeling the faux warmth it provided. Your eyes shifted to the clock propped up against the bar counter’s wall, watching the hands tick at a uniform pace. It was weird knowing that time always stayed steady. These days, it seemed all over the place—sometimes slowing, sometimes speeding. At this particular moment, it was like a flowing stream. 
What kind of pace it was, you weren’t too sure. 
What you did know, though, was that the numbers on the clock were barely visible; bright neon LED lights being the only thing illuminating the dark room they called a nightclub. The speakers were blasting some upbeat pop song, entertaining the crowd trying to lose themselves on the dance floor. You could only watch from your bar stool as a girl trips over thin air, obviously a little too inebriated, before getting caught by her friend, who was now fussing over her drunken state. 
Burning liquid passed your tongue as you took another sip of your drink. Unlike that girl, you went to this place alone and on your own accord. In your mind, you contemplated why you chose to be here instead of a peaceful bar that didn’t involve a DJ and a dancefloor—but this works too. Maybe a part of you wanted to experience the thrill one last time before adult life completely takes a toll on you, so who were you to deprive yourself of the wish? Your university days had already ended just a few hours ago, with you stepping on stage to get your diploma. It wasn’t a crime to let yourself have fun after all the sacrifices you made for the sake of your damned future. 
And so you continued to watch—getting lost in the sea of bright lights and the crashing waves of your thoughts, before a familiar voice snapped you out of the trance you put yourself in.
“What are you doing here, looking all miserable like that?”
You blinked owlishly at the face that entered your line of sight. A face that was very recognizable to you, despite the undoubtedly long time you’ve gone without seeing it.
“Han Jisung?”
“The one and only,” Jisung grins. 
“Wow,” you breathed out, completely taken aback at the situation. “I haven’t seen you since our first year of uni! How have you been?”
You and Jisung used to be in the same major before he dropped out right before the start of your second year to pursue music. It would be an absolute lie if you said you didn’t miss him, especially since he was the first friend you ever made in university. You could still recall the moment he approached you in a class like it was yesterday—the Jisung of four years ago scrambling to take a seat after barely just beating the professor entering through the front door. The image of the freshly turned nineteen-year-old panting desperately evoked your concern, causing you to stare at him a little longer than necessary. But it wouldn’t be Jisung if he wasn’t observant, so he returned the stare without an ounce of shame and followed with a question if you had any spare water he could drink.
Luckily, your water bottle had just been filled a few minutes before class started, and thus a beautiful friendship was born.
Jisung took his hands out of his pockets before taking a seat at the empty bar stool to your right. “Life’s been great! Two semesters were enough for me to realize that the academic life just wasn’t for me,” he chuckles. “Oh, and congrats on graduating, by the way!”
You couldn’t help the small smile that found its way to your face at his greeting. “You knew?”
“Ah,” Jisung exclaims, leaning forward to rest his arms on the long table in front while still making eye contact to cement his presence in the conversation. “I attended the ceremony earlier, actually. You know—for Hyunjin and Seungmin. I also watched you stand on stage. That’s why I’m genuinely surprised to see you here like this.”
He looks around for a bit before returning to face you. “Where are your friends?”
You shrugged carelessly, not too bothered with the implication. “Not a clue,” you say with a light chuckle. “Probably out celebrating with their families—or maybe even with each other. Either way, I didn’t get an invite, but I already expected that.”
Jisung simply nods at your reply, and his lack of a reaction amused you more than it should. “And you? Out with Thing 1 and Thing 2?”
“Damn, they still call Seungmin and Hyunjin that? My legacy stood strong, huh?” Jisung barked out a hearty laugh before gesturing somewhere to the side of the club. “But yeah, our group’s over there in one of the sofa cubicles. You can join us if you want; it’s your day too, after all. We should be celebrating!”
You waved his offer away politely. “It’s fine, Jisung. I’m sure they wouldn’t want me crashing in. We’re not even close enough to do that.”
Jisung paused to think for a moment, his hand rising up to support his chin. Your eyes guiltily wander a bit higher, stopping at his rosy lips for a brief second before quickly going back to glare at your glass of liquor. 
Admittedly, you once had a crush on the man beside you. Han Jisung was one of the more attractive individuals on campus back then, along with the rest of his friend group. The lingering gazes of people weren’t foreign to you, as you had your fair share of experiences with them when you used to hang out with him. Jisung was simply someone who caught others’ attention, whether it was intentional or not. Of course, you weren’t exempt from that notion. The only difference was that he was a good friend you didn't want to risk losing and that you weren’t interested in dating at that moment. Romance was another dream of yours you couldn’t reach, no matter how much you yearned for it. And so you buried your feelings in a grave, eventually getting forgotten once he left your life.
You could only hope that a zombie apocalypse doesn’t start soon.
“Hm, alright,” he eventually chimes. “I’ll leave you be, soon. But, on one condition.” It was your turn to ponder over his words. 
“And what’s your condition, Han?”
Jisung attempts to hide the way he fidgets with his fingers, which you painfully caught on to too fast for your liking. He took a few more seconds to collect himself before sitting up straight and turning towards you to shyly say, “Dance with me?”
Your eyes widened into saucers, not believing what you had just heard. It was in an attempt to calm your racing heart that you accidentally froze into silence, your brain already deciding to keep 911 on standby in case you stopped breathing altogether. You internally cursed yourself for feeling a faint hope spark back in your heart, wishing for the romance you never let yourself indulge in. This wasn’t the time, nor was it the place, that you thought was appropriate to rekindle your teenage wishes. 
Unfortunately, your lack of a response made Jisung inhale audibly, seemingly preparing himself to bolt away in embarrassment—if only you hadn’t noticed his actions too, the year of friendship coming back to you to recognize his habit. You quickly willed yourself to spit out any words you could.
"Well, that’s sudden,” you shakily voiced out, but decided to lighten the awkward situation with a cough. “What, think I’m hot now after gaining a few more years?”
Jisung exhaled in relief. “Not exactly,” he rubs the back of his neck, “you were already hot from the beginning.” You roll your eyes at his answer.
“Haha. You think you’re so hilarious, Jisung.”
“That, I do,” he smirks, regaining his confidence. Jisung lifts a hand towards you, opening his palm in an offering gesture. “So, what about that dance?”
You scoffed good-naturedly before taking his hand, pulling him up his seat to drag the two of you towards the center of the establishment that was still as chaotic as you left it earlier.
“Make sure you show me a good time, Jisung.”
“Oh, you won’t be disappointed, Y/N.”
Maybe—just maybe, you could indulge in this dream come true for once.
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weirdkpopgirl · 1 day
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Forever | Jaemin Imagine #13
Title: Forever
Genre: Tooth-rotting fluff ><
Warnings: light making out
Word Count: ~1k
Author's Note: Yet another story of mine that was inspired by my admiration for Jaemin. Trust me, I've liked a lot of k-pop guys. But for some reason, Jaemin stands out the most to me. Maybe because he's my ideal type. But every time I see him, I find something that makes my heart beat faster. I wonder if that's what falling in love feels like? Anyway, hope you guys like this. Thank you for reading ^ ^
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
The Totoro lamp on the accent table next to the television cast a soft glow that warmed the living room of your once lonely apartment. Cozied up at the edge of the gray loveseat, you sat with your knees pulled close to your chest, allowing your thoughts to wander as they often did past 10 p.m. However, those thoughts were interrupted by the light padding sound of slippers against the wooden floor panels. Soon after, the couch cushion next to you sank under added weight. 
Then you felt the arms of your beloved wrap his arms snugly around your waist, and his warm lips planted a lingering kiss on your cheek without wasting another second. “Missed you,” he whispered, his voice slightly tickling your ear.
The corners of your lips curled into a fond smile, and you turned into his embrace so you could face the sweet man properly. You nestled comfortably between his legs, letting your hand naturally find its way to the back of his neck while your other hand brushed against the left side of his face. 
“I missed you too, Nana,” you murmured, tenderly caressing his cheek. He leaned into your touch instantly, savoring it.
The simple action was enough to stir a flurry of emotions within you. In the brief moments of silence that passed, you studied your handsome boyfriend as if searching for any changes that might have occurred in the three weeks you had been apart. Other than his white-blond hair having grown longer so quickly after cutting it, you didn’t find any significant changes. Jaemin’s big beautiful eyes were as captivating as ever, complemented by his flirtatiously long eyelashes. His dark eyebrows were still perfectly arched, framing his expressive eyes, and his soft pink lips retained their subtle, endearing pout.
A small sigh from you couldn’t be suppressed, the sight of him having the same effect on you as always. Although, deep down you knew his kind-hearted personality made him even more attractive in your eyes. 
“What’s on your mind, princess?” Jaemin asked in his dreamy deep voice that carried a mellowness at night. His eyes held a curiosity to them, and he didn’t need to say anything for you to know he was referring to your earlier distraction.
You hesitated for a second, before responding. “I was just thinking about relationships.”
Checking Jaemin’s reaction before continuing, you saw that his attention remained fully captured on you. The way he listened intently made your heart flutter so easily, a feeling you couldn’t quite explain.
“You know, I was watching YouTube before bed the other day,” you began to explain. “And I came across a few shorts about couples talking about how the first year is supposed to be the honeymoon phase, and then they start arguing a lot in the second year and often break up.”
Jaemin nodded, a gentle smile tugging on his lips. “I see. What’s your take on that, love?”
Although you had the answer to his question in your head, it took a moment for you to piece it together.  “Hm, I don’t think there really should be a honeymoon phase. I mean, that’s not really the case for us.”
Almost instinctively, you glanced down at the diamond ring on your finger, its facets catching the light perfectly. A few days before Jaemin had to leave for Taipei with the Dreamies, he surprised you with a simple yet intimate proposal. 
“Sure, we’ve both had to work on some things,” you continued, fixing your gaze on him once more. “But even after two years together, you still make me feel like a giddy teenager with a huge crush.”
Jaemin chuckled, his laughter causing a blush to tinge your cheeks. You knew how silly your words sounded, but they reflected your true feelings. However, it was rare for you to verbally express this to him. Before any doubts about being this honest could creep in, Jaemin’s hand moved to lovingly brush a lock of hair behind your ear. 
“I feel exactly the same as you. Every day I discover something new I love about you, and every kiss we share feels just as special as our first,” he said sincerely.
A part of you sensed he said the last sentence as an excuse to kiss you, and sure enough, he leaned in to plant one on your lips shortly after. Even though you lost the number of times Jaemin has kissed you, you agree that all of them were cherishable.
Pulling away, you scrunched your nose slightly with a hint of skepticism in your voice. “Are we being too cheesy?”
If anyone had walked in and witnessed this, you were certain that they would cringe at hearing all the sweet, sappy things exchanged between the two of you. You could practically hear the fake gagging noises from his members.
“I’d like to think of it more as us being extra romantic,” Jaemin replied, wearing a playful smile that you secretly swooned over.
The conversation naturally faded into the background, as you lost yourselves in each other’s embrace once more. His lips moved against yours slowly, tenderly, without ever making you fear that he’d pull away anytime soon. One hand held your back securely, while the other gently cupped your face. Your fingers lightly ran through his light-colored strands as you melted into his touch.
“Gosh, I just want to marry you already,” Jaemin exhaled, a hint of sulkiness in his tone.
Despite his words causing you to blush profusely again, you relaxed into his arms and appreciated this quiet moment surrounded by love and warmth. Maybe you guys were pretty cheesy. But that didn’t make your feelings for each other any less real.
Being in love with Jaemin was a feeling you hoped would last forever.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
previous masterlist -> current masterlist
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bethecliche · 3 days
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my love mine all mine l vincent renzi x f!reader
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summary: after seeing her for the first time, he just fell (deeply) in love word count: 3.7k content: female reader (no description of genitalia), mention of sex, mention of stretch marks, description of hair and eye color (but not texture or skin color), french laws and locations being misinterpreted, use of tv shows and books I didn't watch or read, non canon note: english is not my first langague! I wrote this in portuguese and then translated to english myself, there's a chance you'll find an error or something. I'm sorry sorry! I highly recommend you to listen to the song while reading.
you can check the aesthetic references for this oneshot here but take note that none of the people actual faces on this reflects on the character identity that I wrote, so don't base all of the details on the references for the characters in story.
The first time he noticed her, she was sitting on one of the wooden benches outside the courtrooms. She seemed nervous, shaking her legs and glancing restlessly between the watch on her wrist and the clock on the hallway wall, as if it made much difference. Regardless of her worried expression and furrowed brow, Vincent felt that he had never seen such an attractive woman in his life. From her brown hair to her brown boots, looked like she stepped out of one of those '70s fashion advertisements he'd seen in vintage magazines as a kid. He didn't had time to notice much more than that, as he crossed the hallway and headed to his session. At the end of the day, of course, she was no longer there.
What seemed to have been one of those street crushes that you see when crossing an avenue and never think about again, stayed in Vincent's head for a few days. Every time he passed by the corridor, he waited to see if the brunette would be there. He tried to guess what she was doing there that day and whether there was a possibility of bumping into her again, a question to which the universe answered “yes”.
Two weeks later, this time leaving work, he looked down buttoning his blue coat, distracted in his thoughts when he noticed the same brown boots a few steps in front of him. The stranger held a cigarette between her fingers and had her arms pressed against her body. Although it was snowing lightly, it was extremely cold for an autumn day. Her look was different, probably due to the weather, with a coat with a puffed collar and puffed sleeves, once again looking like she belonged to a previous decade. The wind ruffled her hair a little and the moonlight illuminated her posture, a scene Vincent believed could have come from a movie.
All his past relationships were comfortable. Someone he knew in high school, someone he knew in college, someone who was introduced by friends or someone his friends encouraged him to talk during an outing. He didn't consider himself an introvert, but he never needed to pursue someone who was interested. Things just happened for him. It wasn't his comfort zone just to approach a stranger like that, much less at the door of his work, but something that day said it was the right thing to do.
He took a cigarette out of his pocket and approached the girl asking to borrow a lighter. His sudden plan only went so far.
As soon as she turned to face him, she gave a friendly and inviting smile, taking the object out of her pocket and activating the flame in front of his face. Vincent stood still, staring into her eyes throughout the action, mesmerized by her and her sparkling brown eyes.
“Will I ever meet a lawyer who doesn’t smoke?” She asked as she extinguished the flame, placing the lighter and her free hand back in her pocket. Too cold to let it out.
His response took a few agonizing seconds, as his mind was far away and still lost in her gaze. He composed himself, running a hand through his hair and looking away.
“The day this happens, let me know. I want to be there.” Vincent laughed awkwardly, causing the girl to laugh as well. At that moment, he felt that he wanted to provoke more of this reaction, he wanted to see more of her smile and so the conversation flowed.
His first question was how she guessed he was a lawyer and not a passerby to which she replied, "You stand like a lawyer." He shared how being a lawyer was boring and tedious, but it did have its dramatic moments in court when she asked if the career was challenging like its portrait on TV. He also discovered that she was there to pay a car ticket caused by her younger brother, hence the great nervousness when he first saw her a few weeks ago.
“When my parents told me that my 20th birthday present was a baby brother, I already felt within myself that I would be the best sister in the world. That I would try to make his life as easy as possible. 18 years later, he asks to borrow my car to visit his girlfriend - which I don't hesitate to do, after all I support young love. And the little shit-head makes sure on parking in front of a fire hydrant.” The girl blew smoke to her right side, not taking her eyes off him. “Would you be my lawyer if I try to choke him?”
Vincent could only laugh at her spontaneity, easy way of talking about life and easy way of making conversation.
“Just threaten him, it will be an easier case for me to win.”
They talked about Metz and how her family decided to move to Paris when she was a teenager because they knew the city needed more beautiful people, a fact Vincent agreed with. In order not to dismiss him, in a very charming way, she praised his Parisian accent and said that such a comment did not apply to him and only God knows how Vincent felt inside after that.
The two shared their tastes, such as reading romances and watching Dix pour cent every night before bed. It was as if they knew each other much more than the 1 hour they spent together under the snow. They shared maybe two more cigarettes before realizing it was getting a little too late to chat like that on the street.
He doesn't even know how he got out of that situation alive and managed to get home with her number.
Their first date was at a local cinema on a Friday night for a re-showing of Buffet Froid, a film Anne had never seen.
He didn't remember the last time he felt butterflies in his stomach, although it was guaranteed that nothing could compare to this time. As he got ready and tried to match his best t-shirts with his beige pants (which he eventually changed out of, finding them too tacky), Vincent remained nervous thinking that she might not show up or that this would be the first and last time they would meet in this circumstance.
In the end, all the “first time” flutter went out the window when he saw her smiling and waving on the other side of the street, already with the tickets in her hand. “I'm glad you came.” She said, holding his arm as they walked through the door of the establishment.
“I wouldn't miss it.” he replied.
The two took watching films very seriously, so it was only during the ending credits, after a lot of laughter, small comments and bumping hands on the popcorn bucket, that the two kissed.
He felt the softness of her skin on his hand and her sweet scent of perfume, in addition, of course, to the hot and saccharine kiss. It was slow, serene, just as they both wanted, being able to feel each other in that moment. It was also Anne's desire to slowly run her fingers through his hair and she didn't hesitate to take advantage of the opportunity.
After throwing their trash away, the two walked out of the cinema, now closer to each other, hand in hand. The weather wasn't as cold as when they first met and they were free to enjoy the warmth of their bodies without so many layers covering them.
“For a great 70's mind, you never having watched Buffet Froid is an insult.” He pointed at her with his free hand, wanting to tease her.
Anne rolled her eyes. Even though she liked the film, she didn't want to give a taste. “Obviously you would like action movies like that. It suits you.”
“I’ll make you like it too.” He stated, trying to imply that he wanted them to meet again, to which she responded by kissing his cheek and saying, “Next time, let's watch a romcom.”
Once, twice, three, four and a few more times, all being unusual dates. Sometimes she would call during his workday and say she would pick him up for an adventure. She drove aimlessly, just the two of them talking about their days and observing the city lights. These were Vincent's favorite “dates”, as they all ended with the two of them making out like two teenagers parked in the driveway of his apartment.
The more he got to know about her, the more he wanted to constantly be a part of her life. Anne owned a clothing store downtown, something he never tired of saying was the “most suitable job her”. On the last date they had, she took him to the closed store and put on a fashion montage for him, with improvised note cards on paper left on the counter and all. But she knew that the judge had been bought when he only gave her 10s. She also took the opportunity to get Vincent to do the same, putting him once again out of his comfort zone to find out that bell bottom jeans don't really suit him.
They even got to watch a car race - something that not even Anne had done, she had just decided that it was an experience they needed to have. They both entended up hating it, but the important thing was that the company was great.
That was one of the nights Anne slept at his house.
They ate some junk food from the fridge and watched a silly but captivating show on TV while they chatted more. When she realized she could sleep at any moment, Anne got up to brush her teeth and change her clothes, putting on her uniform for whenever she was there: a Vincent t-shirt.
Vincent found it charming how she captivated his gaze regardless of what she was doing. He loved her unique and sophisticated style, but he also loved seeing her like this, casually wearing his clothes, in his home, as if she were his. And lastly, he loved seeing her with nothing on.
Every detail of her body, her birthmarks on her shoulder and that one next to her beautiful eyes or her stretch marks on her back, everything about her seemed to have been chosen down to the millimeter. When they made love, his hands went everywhere, trying to reach as much of her as he could, to feel the warmth she exuded.
And the best way to love her was by looking into her eyes, admiring her beauty, running his lips up and down her body, being grateful for the privileged position it was to be able to love her.
Mornings were like nights, with him waking up earlier and being able, once again, to admire the woman beside her.
“You are even more beautiful in the morning.”
The two walked through the streets of Paris, both tipsy, looking for an available taxi in the dead of night. With their relationship now more established and their schedules aligned, they made it a challenge to come up with these unusual date only once a month so it wouldn't lose its fun. Today had been the day to go to the opera and due to their lack of sobriety, they didn't seem to have left anywhere other than the shabbiest bar on the corner.
The event was boring as fuck and they left halfway through to drink somewhere more enjoyable. They found an open bar showing a PSG versus Marseille match. Neither of them supported the teams or understood about football rules, but this seemed like a new opportunity for them to have another different experience that day.
One laughter after another, some passionate kisses between drinks and the two were celebrating PSG's victory at the bar with some strangers whom they befriended.
“My mother wants to meet you. My brother too. I said I might have a lawyer for the next time he's up to no good. Do you think it’s too early?”
When drunk, Anne tended to speak fast and slurred, but Vincent understood perfectly. He smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing the tip of her nose. “I will love meeting your family.”
They never actually asked each other to go steady, but it was clear that they already belonged to each other at that point.
Vincent was on his cell phone writing a text to his mother about the shopping list for Christmas dinner and their desire to participate in decorating the tree (Anne's request to spend more time with her mother-in-law) while his girlfriend was lying on his lap reading his copy of Around the World in 80 Days (and she was loving it, for sure).
It was a lazy day for both of them at Vincent's place. A year into their relationship, the two of them loved sharing these moments together doing different activities.
“She said she misses you a lot and looks forward to seeing you on Christmas, but that you're banned from being near the kitchen when it is time to prepare desserts. Everything you touch that’s sweet ends up burning for some reason.”
Her smile, excited by her mother-in-law's affection, turned into a face indignant at the rule she imposed. "What?" She looked up from the book and pulled Vincent's hand to check if the message was real and it was. “This is so unfair!”
“Sorry, Anne, you’re just really bad at this.”
She lightly pushed his arm and pretended to be uncomfortable, although she knew it was true and wasn't really upset. Before she could return to her book, Vincent placed his cell phone on the table and began talking.
“One more thing, huh,” he cleared his throat, “I made one more space on the rack for you. I don't want certain clothes to get wrinkled in the drawer. I’ll make room in one more drawer too.”
Anne put the book aside and knelt on the sofa, facing her boyfriend. “Won’t it bother you? I already have space in my bedroom drawer, bathroom… In fact, there are a lot of my things scattered around the house. I don’t want to impose my space here.”
This was a subject that she had also been waiting to comment on for some time. By working her own hours at the store and having an employee to take her place wherever needed, Anne had a more flexible schedule than Vincent and it was easier to stay at his house, helping to keep everything on track and cooking for both of them. He would arrive just before dinner time and they could enjoy together without rushing to do the chores.
Because of this, the few clothes she wore just to sleep there became a drawer full, her makeup in the bathroom sink and her shoes near the door.
The gray-haired man hugged her around the waist, kissing her forehead and assuring her of his action. “You are not imposing anything, mon chéri. I want you to use this space. I want to have more and more of you here.”
For him, having her scent permeate the rooms was a gift wrapped in the best bow. Knowing that every day he would come home to see her welcoming smile and welcome kiss was the biggest work incentive.
“It feels like my home.” She whined.
“It’s your home. Our home.” He insisted.
In his favorite action, he cupped her face and looked warmly into her eyes, admiring her features trying to associate with what he was trying to say. They both smiled at each other realizing where the topic was going.
“Are you…”
“I want you to move in with me.”
The beautiful smile that filled his heart appeared on her face and Vincent, who was sure of her choice, but a little afraid of her accepting it, smiled too at her positive reaction.
In conclusion, he ended up needing to make more closet space for her countless boots, but he was happy that she could call the space her own (and she looks great in those boots, he would never complain about making room for them).
The snack table was almost empty and that made Anne happy. She might not be good at desserts, but her food was always praised and she almost never had leftovers when she cooked for her friends.
“This sandwich is delicious, aunt Anne!” Daniel stated, taking another one from the table and sitting on the sofa next to her. “Can I take some home?”
“Of course you can! There’s more stored in the kitchen, I’ll put it on the side for you to take.” She continued, now coming closer to whisper. “You can give Snoop a bite, I won’t tell your mom.”
“Hey, I’m watching you two!” Sandra said towards the back of the sofa, pointing at the two jokingly. She was talking to Vincent leaning against the wall in the hallway, looking anxious.
There was approximately 10 people spread throughout the room at this gathering. The couple chose to host a celebration for the launch of Sandra's new book, a dear friend of both, and tried to make room for everyone present. She was very delighted with the honor, although unaccustomed to the positive attention she was receiving.
Even though they weren't glued to each other at the party, Anne and Vincent always stopped for a moment to exchange a kiss and ask if everything was okay. He, even more so, couldn't stop admiring his girlfriend from afar. Parties like this always made him happy to be able to share the love he had for her and also show others that this was his girl.
It was around 6pm that they said their goodbyes and thanked their friends for being there. After closing the door, Anne took a deep breath and leaned against it with Vincent kissing her neck and hugging her waist.
“Had fun today?” He asked against her neck, kissing slowly until he reached her face. Hugging him back, she just nodded yes, pulling him into a longing and passionate kiss.
Vincent pressed his body against hers and tightened his grip, placing his free hand against the wall for support. Everything was going well, until Vincent suddenly stopped, as if he couldn't give in to temptation yet.
He also took a deep breath, with a shy smile as he looked at her.
“Is something wrong?” She asked, still leaning against the door and resting her hands on his shoulder.
"What?" He retorted.
“During the party, you kept looking at me like that, with those heart-eyes, that fool in love face of yours. And now you're doing it again. It seems... different.”
Vincent laughed awkwardly, as if he was unprepared to respond that quickly. “In my defense, I always look like a fool in love when I’m with you.”
Before anything else, Vincent took a red velvet box out of his pocket and opened it, showing a silver ring made especially for her. With the hand that was on her waist, he slipped into her hand and intertwined their fingers.
“Kneeling isn’t your style, nor are long speeches in front of our friends, but I can’t just leave the ring in your hand without saying anything. The day I saw you for the first time, I was intrigued. The second time, that feeling I had of needing to talk to you urgently, of not letting the opportunity pass, I think, somehow, I knew we were going to get to this moment right now. By the third time - I was already in love. Head over heels, worshiping the ground you pass, heart-eyes, whatever you want to call it. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't feel those butterflies in my stomach before seeing you, that I don't feel the eager to be by your side. If you do me the honor of marrying me, I can promise that you will have a man who wakes up in love with you every day. Forever.”
Anne's eyes were already full of tears as soon as she saw the box and she couldn't help but shed them when she heard the proposal.
The last 4 years of their lives were instinctive, passionate, in a way she never thought she would experience. All her last lovers didn't last long, they couldn't handle her personality or couldn't love her right, so she was left with no hope that it would change. But Vincent's speech was something that she not only believed, she felt. Every day, she felt his love, his affection and his care. Wave of action speaks louder than words and she trusted her man.
There was no other answer than yes.
The same word was repeated by the two of them at the registry office a few months later. The idea was never a big party, it didn't suit either of their personalities, but Anne always wanted a dress and a veil, so they were both there, in their wedding clothes just before lunch time in the registry office next to Vincent's work place.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!”
With that sentence, the two shared a classic wedding kiss, with Vincent holding her around the waist and Anne throwing her leg up. They could live that moment over and over again, but they needed to go out for a little celebration party with their friends before they left for their honeymoon (and Anne was more than eager to have her friends around so she could toss the bouquet).
Outside, in another snowy day, Anne reached through the car window and took a black bag from the glove compartment, handing it to her now husband.
“What is it?” He held on, swinging by the loop to feel the weight so he could find out what it could be.
“It's your wedding gift.” She cheerfully replied.
He stole one more kiss from his wife before opening the bag, already imagining what could be inside.
“It has our initials and today’s date on it,” she pointed to the bottom where the details were, “so no other girl coming out of court will need to offer you the lighter.”
Vincent took a cigarette out of his jacket pocket and lit it with his newest gift, but without inhaling, just lighting it for the sake of it.
“No one will have my love. Only you, mon chéri."
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A Song of Ice & Shadow
Part 1
A/N: Hello everyone! I’m planning to write an Azriel x Archeron!half-sister reader series, possibly featuring a slow-burn romance and angst. I don’t know how many parts it’s going to have. It begins in ACOMAF chapter 24.
Summary: The eldest Archeron half-sister Y/n hates Fae kind, due to tragic past events. When she unexpectedly visits her sisters, she is met with the very race she hates.
Word count: 2.11K
Being the eldest sibling is not always easy. Y/n knew this firsthand, shouldering the weight of responsibility for her younger sisters from a young age. After their mother’s death, she made the difficult decision to leave her sisters behind and stay with her supposed biological father. It wasn’t because she didn’t share the same father as her sisters; in fact, he loved her like she was his own and never discriminated between them. For the first two years after their mothers death, she stayed with her family, but when her “father” lost his fortune, she knew leaving was the only option. It wasn’t just about lightening their burden by having one less mouth to feed; she also hoped by seeking out her biological father, she could find work and send money back to her family.
Surprisingly, her father welcomed her with open arms, a kindness that caught her off guard considering he had shown little interest in her when she was younger. Despite her initial skepticism, she didn’t question his motives, fearing he might kick her out. With cleverness and father’s help, she managed to pursue higher education, while working to make ends meet. Though her earnings were modest, she’d send whatever she could spare to her family, ensuring they had enough to survive. With Feyre’s help, there was always food on the table.
Y/n’s life was devoid of fun. Between studying, working, sleeping and occasional visits to her family, she had little time for socializing and friends. This isolation was entirely her choice; she distanced herself from others, earning a reputation as being cold, heartless, selfish, and arrogant to those who didn’t know her well. Yet, beneath this exterior, she harbored a deep love for her sisters and would sacrifice anything for their well-being, despite no longer showing them affection after their mother’s death. They understood her silent expressions of care, recognizing that actions spoke louder than words.
One thing everyone knew for certain is that y/n was stubborn. She held fast to her beliefs and opinions, regardless of external influences. Among her sisters, Netsa was the most like her and the one who admired her the most. The two shared the closest bond before she left, but make no mistake, if anyone Nesta feared and obeyed, it was Y/n, knowing she was not one to be crossed.
After Feyre left the mortal realm, her family’s fortune turned, and she finished her education. Consequently, her visits became less frequent, as she immersed herself into her work.
A smile appeared on y/n’s face at the thought of her sisters’ reactions to seeing her after a long time. She decided to surprise them with a spontaneous visit. Unbeknownst to her, another surprise awaited her inside the place she called home.
“Nesta, Elain, I’m home!” y/n announced as she opened the front door of their home.
“Are we expecting someone else?” Rhys whispered to Feyre.
“Nesta, why didn’t you tell me y/n was coming?” Feyre questioned, panic all over her face.
“I didn’t know. She usually sends word before she comes” Nesta claimed.
The conversation between the two sisters earned them a curious, yet worried look from the three males. Nesta stood from chair, hurrying to the door, but she was too late, y/n was now standing in the dining room, the smile dropping from her face and replaced by a shocked expression at the sight before her.
“What is going on?” y/n asked carefully and slowly.
“These are Feyre’s friends. We were not expecting you today” Elain replied.
“Y/n, it’s been a while. I’m so happy to see you” Feyre stood from her seat and hugged her sister, who was reluctant at first but returned the hug.
“You brought Fae-kind into our home?” it was more of a rhetorical question, but Feyre answered anyway.
“Y/n, this is Cassian” she inclined her head to the male with long hair “Azriel” she pointed to the male who y/n could’ve sworn was the most handsome man she’s even laid eyes on “and Rhysand, high lord of the Night Court” Feyre finished introducing.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you” Rhys said with a warm smile.
“I’m sure” y/n sneered, returning her gaze on her sisters “you still haven’t told me what’s going on and why the very same race we despise are now in our living room, dining with us” y/n tried making sense of the situation.
Feyre explained the situation, why they were here, what they needed from the sisters and the threat posed by Hybern.
“So the moment you became fae, you chose to forsake us?” this was all y/n could utter.
“I’d never do that. Me being fae doesn’t change that. It never will. You’ll always be my sister” Feyre assured her.
“If you did, you wouldn’t have brought THEM here. Hatred aside, do you have any idea of the danger you just put Nesta and Elain in?” Y/n turned her hand into a fist, her knuckles as white as they could be, trying to keep her temper in check.
“There was nowhere else to go” Feyre claimed.
“And you were alright with this?” Y/n turned to face her other sisters.
“I wasn’t, but Elain agreed” Nesta informed her.
“Feyre’s right, there-“ Cassian spoke.
“Who are you again?” Y/n glared at him “I’m too tired to deal with this now” she rubbed her temples and said to no one in specific “call me when they’re gone”.
“Uhm, they’re-“ before Nesta could finish the sentence, y/n was already gone “-going to stay for a while” she sighed.
“I take it, this is your eldest sister” Rhys asked.
“I told you she could be intense” Feyre replied.
“That’s one word for it” Cassian expressed and was met with a glare from Nesta.
—-
Thinking they had left, y/n descended the stairs, dressed in her nightgown and robe, seeking out a comforting cup of tea in the quiet atmosphere of midnight. Opening the backdoor leading to their garden, she leaned against the door frame, admiring the stars as she sipped her tea. She took a deep breath appreciating the tranquility and solitude the night provided. She could’ve sworn the shadows moved, but she dismissed it believing it was hallucinations caused by exhaustion from a long trip. Noticing a bright star in the sky, she lifted her cup up and uttered “cheers” a sad smile appearing on her face…
As she was locking the door, she glimpsed a figure in the shadows. This time, unable to dismiss what she saw, she called out “who’s there?”.
At first there was no response but she called out again “I know there’s someone here, so I suggest you come out” she demanded.
Azriel hesitated but complied “I apologize, I did not mean to disturb you”.
“What are you still doing here?” She covered herself with the robe, the gesture did not go unnoticed by Azriel.
“Your gracious sisters allowed us to stay here for a while” he informed her.
“Have they now?” she nodded, clearly displeased by the information she just received “how long are you planning on staying here?”.
“Not long. As soon as the letter is delivered, we’ll be out of your way, I give you my word” he politely said.
“Your word means nothing to me. And if you’re staying at someone’s house, do not sneak up on them” her words as cold as ice.
“I wasn-“ before Azriel could explain, she had left, making his jaw clench in frustration.
The following day, she went downstairs earlier to get some breakfast, but what was early for her, was late for others. Upon entering the kitchen, she found Rhys and Feyre engaged in a conversation with Elain, while Nesta and Cassian bickered over their tea. Azriel was standing in the corner and when he saw her enter, his whole body tensed, and Cassian and Nesta went still
“Good morning” Rhys greeted and was met with silence.
Y/n prepared her breakfast when Feyre approached her “how did you sleep?” Y/n just stared at her sister without saying a word. Once she was done preparing her food, she took it and left without acknowledging anyone’s existence. As Cassian and Nesta resumed their bickering, Azriel finally relaxed, prompting Rhys to speak again “not a good morning, I guess?” He joked.
“Oh believe me, this is a good morning. If you think this was something, then you really don’t want to see her angry” Feyre remarked.
“Is she always like this?” Cassian asked.
“Give her time. She doesn’t like strangers and she most definitely hates Fae-kind” Feyre reminded.
“Yeah, that was clear” Cassian said.
“You’re talking about her like she’s a bad person” Nesta defended.
“Nesta, you know that’s not what I meant” Feyre tried to explain.
“All I’ve seen you do since you got here is criticizing y/n. She’s done nothing wrong” Nesta reminded.
“I’m sorry, but you know how y/n can be”.
“How? All she did was ignore you all, instead of engaging in a pitty argument that would hit your weak spots, and last I’ve known, she does not owe any of you anything. If you’re going to stay in this house, then better respect their owners” Nesta expressed.
“Nesta!” Elain said, clearly displeased with her sister’s tone.
—-
“Can I come in?” Nesta asked permission to enter y/n’s room.
“What is it now?” Y/n opened the door.
“I wanted to spend some time with you”
“Don’t you have guests to entertain?” Y/n crossed her arms.
“Elain and Feyre can deal with them. I’d rather stay here with you”.
“Fiine” y/n rolled her eyes but allowed her sister into her room.
“They already have a bad impression of you” Nesta told her.
“When did I ever care about what people thought of me? Let alone, what male Fae thought of me” y/n chuckled “it bothered you, didn’t it?”.
“Of course it did. I wouldn’t allow anyone to speak badly of you”.
“They’re just words spoken by irrelevant people. When you acknowledge their words, you make them relevant. Remember Nesta, you decide who you give power over you”.
The next day, Feyre, Rhys and Azriel were absent from the kitchen when y/n arrived “oh, for fuck’s sake, how do you two find the energy to fight this early in the morning?” Y/n asked, clearly awoken by the sound of Cassian and Nesta arguing.
“It’s noon” Cassian corrected.
“Whatever. If you’re gonna argue, do it outside. Hearing your voice gives me headaches” y/n uttered.
“And here I thought my voice was soothing” he sarcastically said.
“Don’t. Just don’t!” Cassian’s attempt at humor was met with y/n’s annoyance.
“Rough night?” he asked.
“More like a rough couple of days. Some people clearly don’t know how to be good guests” Y/n started making herself a cup of coffee.
“Well, maybe that’s because some people don’t know how to be polite hosts” he snickered.
“You know what? You’re not worth my time, if you want to argue, you have Nesta. She apparently has the patience for it”.
“Y/n” Nesta called.
“What? You do love arguing” y/n reminded.
“Wow, the two of you in the same house as poor Elain and Feyre, how did they survive?”.
“By knowing when to speak and when to shut up” y/n glared at him, taking her coffee and leaving and he said something.
—-
“What now?” Y/n asked as Feyre called for her sisters “We can leave soon to mail our letter” informing them.
“And this concerns me how?” Y/n asked.
“I-I thought you’d like to go with us”.
“Why would I do that? No, thank you”… “wasn’t there one more of you?” Y/n asked, pretending to just have realized Azriel wasn’t present.
“He had to return early. We had an altercation this morning” Feyre explained.
“Altercation?” Y/n narrowed her eyes,
“It’s nothing”.
“If you’re trying to hide it, then it is something”.
“She was attacked” Rhys claimed.
“What? By whom? And you call THIS nothing?” Y/n started checking her sister for injuries and both males’ eyes widened in surprise.
“I’m fine. I’m not hurt”.
“Who attacked you?”.
“It’s rather a what. She was attacked by a creature called the Attor who was sent by the king of Hybern” Rhys informed her “don’t worry, Az is taking care of it”.
To his surprise, she only nodded.
“I changed my mind. I’m coming with you” y/n announced.
“Don’t tell me it’s because I was attacked” Feyre smirked.
“Oh, shut up!” Y/n nudged her with her shoulder.
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avocadorablepirate · 2 days
Text
What Do We Call This? - 07
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Pairing: Trafalgar Law x fem!reader
Summary: On a quest to find what you've been looking for, you acquire the help of the Straw Hat pirates, who've agreed to let you temporarily join them. There are however many challenges that come along with your temporary recruitment - an alliance with a certain Trafalgar Law being one of them.
Word Count: 1.2K
Warnings: fluff, angst, kinda slow burn, swearing, the occasional OP spoiler, they're both kinda mean to each other in this one
A/N: I don't know whether this series has a great flow, and honestly I don't know how well I've portrayed Law's character, but that's okay cause I'm very happy with how this chapter turned out <⁠(⁠ ̄⁠︶⁠ ̄⁠)⁠>. I hope you like it too!
—⁠☆✿☆—⁠
Having boarded Law's ship you trail behind him into the submarine, leaving his crew and the Straw Hats on the deck. While you mindlessly followed him, you took note of the stark difference between the Polar Tang and the Thousand Sunny. Although it seemed a lot more cold, the grey metal walls of the submarine also offered a sense of security in their own way, the faint beeping noises oddly comforting.
Shifting your focus from the walls back to the man walking in front, you called out to him when you realised he hadn't noticed you following, or at least hadn't bothered to acknowledge your presence. On hearing his name Law slowly turned to face you.
"So what did you need my assistance with?" you ask, tilting your head in curiosity. From the time you had spent with him, you knew that when it came to planning, Law was always two steps ahead of the rest. So maybe his plan required you to be in Wano, or maybe he required your assistance with something on his submarine.
"You'd only hurt yourself more if you went with Straw Hat-ya to retrieve Black-Leg. It's better for you this way."
Or maybe not.
"Really? So, that whole needing my assistance thing was a lie?" His lack of a response was enough of an answer.
"I can take care of myself Law. I don't need you constantly watching over me like I'm some child," you assert, ready to storm off before your frustration escalated. But before you can retreat, an all too familiar blue aura envelopes you. "Law-" you try to protest to his actions but your words fall on deaf ears.
"Room."
"Shambles."
The room shifts to what looks like the infirmary of the Polar Tang, and you find yourself already seated on the white matress of a surgical bed as Law shuts the door to the room. Before you can inquire about his intentions, he answers your unspoken question.
"You haven't changed your bandages since we left Dressrosa," he remarks, pulling out a gauze wrap from a drawer and positioning himself in front of you.
"I changed them yesterday," you counter, but this only leads him to roll his eyes, "Clearly, you didn't do a good job of it," he chides, gesturing at the gauze that had been haphazardly wrapped around your torso. In your defense, you were in a bit of a hurry. Robin had found some books in Zou that she thought you would like, and you were all too eager to read them (plus, lingering in the infirmary for too long risked someone seeing your wounds)
"They don't need to be changed. I'm fine. It's all healed." You once again try to convince him, but you're met with a stern look this time. "Just because filling yourself up with alcohol and sleeping every chance you get numbs the pain, does not mean you're healed."
You're caught off guard by Law's reply. Though you think to yourself that maybe you should have known that someone like the Surgeon of Death, who knew how your devil fruit worked would notice that your consumption of alcohol and constant need to sleep were clear signs of you trying to distract yourself from the pain. Evidently, you had no memory of what you had said to him a few nights ago.
"Law-" you once again try to protest, but he's already removing the bandages, and you wince as his hand lightly grazes your side. He looks at you confused, your wounds shouldn't hurt just from this, he thinks to himself, and quickly but gently removes the rest of the gauze. His expression changes from one of confusion to frustration as he looks from the fresh blue-black bruises spattered across your torso to you.
"How did this happen?" he asks, and you shift in your seat, biting down on your lip as you contemplate telling him or not.
"How did this happen?" he spits through gritted teeth, and you shift your gaze away from him, at the same time realising that he wouldn't relent until you gave him an explanation.
"Some of the Minks were still injured before we left Zou, and Chopper wasn't around, so I helped them."
You notice his fists clench and unclench in response to your answer, a sign that he was trying to control his emotions. You choose to slowly meet his gaze as he takes a deep breath before letting out a sigh, already anticipating your response to his next question, "Why didn't you call me?"
"You were meeting your crew after so long, I didn't want to bother you."
He tries to remain calm, but your answer only fuels his frustration. His fists clench once again and he bangs them into the table causing you to flinch. Law's hands now enclose you on either side, his head bent down, so that his hat just about covers the way he's clenching his jaw.
"Why are you always finding ways to hurt yourself?" he murmers, his voice barely above a whisper. But he doesn't give you a chance to repond, "Do you care so little about your life?"
"It's just a few bruises," you respond, and this time he meets your gaze, his grey eyes laden with emotion.
"I don't understand," Law pauses, his anger mounting. "Why!? Why do you not care about your own well-being!? Why do you insist on helping people who've never done shit for you!?"
His words strike a nerve, and you scoff. You can only assume that he's referring to the Straw Hats. Your own emotions are starting to get the best of you, and you throw him a glare of your own, "What the fuck do you know!?" you yell back. Law's taken aback by your outburst, but is quick to regain his 'composure'. However, you don't give him time to respond.
"You know absolutely nothing about me Law, and you have no fucking idea what I've been through and what these people have done for me! So stop trying to protect me!" You grab at the gauze wrap and try to push him aside, but he doesn't budge. His hands grip tightly at the white sheets of the surgical bed, but he doesn't say anything.
"Move Law," you command, but his grip only strengthens, his knuckles turning white.
"I know enough about you to know that you knew Cora-san, and that's enough of a reason for me to protect you."
Law's jaw relaxes, but he remains silent and unmoving, reverting to his stoic demeanour as he waits for some sort of reaction from you, or maybe deliberates over what to say next. You're taken by surprise at first, not knowing how to react to his revelation. But the emotions are quick to come back, and your frustration with him that has been unknowingly brewing over the past month refuses to back down from this confrontation.
"Then you know that he wanted both of us to keep living. Yet you were ready to give your life in exchange for bringing down Doflamingo. So, don't fucking come to me about not caring about mine," you retort with more spite than you intend, your words almost like venom to Law. But you're far too infuriated to take them back. With one final shove you manage to push past him.
"(Y/N)-ya," he calls out to you, attempting to sound firm, but the tremble in his voice is unmistakable.
"I think it's best if we keep our distance," you mumble more to yourself as you walk out the door, leaving Law behind.
_______________________________________________
A/N: This was actually supposed to be longer, but I decided not to include the next part cause it would kinda downplay this part and just lose the drama. So y'all are going to have to wait till next week for them to maybe make up :⁠-⁠P.
taglist: @trafalgardaria @deathsmajestysworld
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Text
🗒꒰⸝⸝₊ Masochism Tango ❛ ✧
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Featuring: Gortash x Durge! Reader
Not proofread!
# Notes: cw for descriptions of violence and gortash being a freak. also as usual with my drabbles, no use of "y/n" and I try to describe the reader's dialogue and actions as little as possible
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He'd be lying if he said he didn't decide to throw a ball only for the slim possibility of them showing up.
They hated him. That much was obvious. He could see it in their eyes during the coronation — that burning wrath and bloodlust that always made him weak in the knees. He couldn't help but wonder what they were thinking of. Maybe slashing his throat open, only to lap up the blood with their tongue. He hoped so. He revels in their aggression, even when it's directed towards him. Especially when it is.
The first hour of the ball was excruciating — having to pretend he cared about whatever the rest of Baldur's Gate's bourgeoisie were yapping about while apprehensively looking around, searching for the only thing in the world that mattered to him at that moment.
Just when he was starting to lose hope, he spotted them in a corner. The sight alone almost made him groan. Gods, how could they look even more beautiful, all dolled up just to see him. Or so he hoped, at least. He had to fight back the urge to just shove everyone out of his way, to go over to them and...
The band began to play before he could finish his thoughts, and he took that as the perfect opportunity. He sauntered over with confidence and elegance, ignoring the other guests with his eyes focused solely on them. Their little friends were nowhere to be seen, either. Even better.
They seemed uncomfortable, restless even, their fingers twitching slightly. Probably aching for their blade, he thought, and a grin formed on his lips. It's been so long, but they haven't changed a bit. He reached out, gently wrapping his fingers around their wrist and pulling them towards him before they even noticed his presence to slim the chances of being rejected.
"Good evening, my dear. I was starting to think you wouldn't come. Care for a dance?" It was supposed to be a question, but he didn't make it sound like one. He knew they'd say no, so he had to make it clear they didn't have a choice — just the way they were looking at him right now made it clear they were currently fantasizing about bashing his head into his neck. He smirked at that, dragging them firmly but not forcefully with him towards the dance floor. He wanted them angry — wanted them to want to hurt him.
He placed a hand on their waist, the other intertwined with theirs as he waltzed with them to the soft ballad playing in the background. "I rather missed this, you know. You used to be a most splendid dance partner, my treasure." He whispered, gazing deeply into those beautiful, livid eyes of theirs that seemed to bewitch him all the same as they did in the past. He didn't tell them the exact nature of their old relationship, but it was very much implied. He knew they could put two and two together.
Losing them hadn't been as easy as he desperately tried to pretend it was. He tried to pretend it didn't bother him, that it was just business as usual, that his heart didn't ache at the thought of never seeing them again — but whatever happened between the two flourished into something much deeper than he'd care to admit. And then, just when things were going well, they vanished. Just like that. They vanished and left him behind, alone, with Orin of all bloody people supposed to replace them. As if she could even hold a candle to them.
He tried his best to lie to himself — it was a good thing they were gone. They were making him soft, weak. He couldn't afford any distractions. And he actually believed those lies for a while. You can convince your mind of almost anything if you repeat it enough times.
But no amount of self-inflicted dishonesty could help ignore the flutter in his chest when they walked into the coronation room. He was almost giddy — even while trying his best to act professional, anyone could see that if he had a tail, it would be wagging at that moment. But after confirming they had lost their memories, a rush of conflicting emotions washed over him. On one hand, they didn't remember him. Didn't remember what they shared together, didn't remember his touch. On the other, this was his chance to finally try again — to make things right. World domination be dammed, it's not worth ruling over without them to share the throne with him, and it took losing them to realize that. They left the coronation without giving him a clear answer to his proposition to kill Orin, and that was that.
But now they were here — in his arms once again. Well, technically not yet, not entirely at least, but it was just the beginning. And he wouldn't stop until they were his again, body, mind and soul.
A small cackle escaped him as they purposefully stepped harshly on his foot, clearly trying to confront him without causing a scene. "You look awfully tense, my dearest. Almost as if you want to dismember me. You'd rather like that, I wager." He mused, spinning them to the rhythm of the song before pulling them back against him. "If you managed to, I imagine it would be quite the spectacle. A thrill, really. But you can't live without your tyrant, can you?" He taunted, the smirk on his face never fading.
"You still have that fire in you. I missed it." He admitted, leaning in to whisper so that his words were for their ears alone. "But we both know I'm not afraid of you, dearest. If anything, you're the one that should be concerned." He motioned around vaguely, eyes never leaving theirs. "I control this city. One wrong move, and I'll have my Steel Watch take care of you. That would truly be a shame, would it not?"
The threat was empty, of course. He had no plans of harming them, no matter what they said or did, but he always quite enjoyed pushing their buttons, seeing what makes them tick, how much it takes for them to break.
He pulled them closer, pressing them flush against his chest, lips grazing their ear. "So why don't you try that again? Threaten me. Hurt me. Say you'll kill me if I don't do as you say. I promise I won't run away." He breathed out, his hand reaching up to caress their cheek gently, pulling their face towards his. "I'll beg for it. Crave it. Just as I always did. Show me how much you hate me, my treasure. Remind me of our history."
There was an unmistakable twinge of desperation in his voice. He needed this in ways he never needed anything else in his life — needed them to crave him, to hurt him all over again, to make him bleed. It was a yearning so strong he was sure it would swallow him whole. Which is why he pressed his lips against theirs despite his better judgement to keep teasing, keep pushing. He couldn't wait any longer.
What he wasn't expecting was the reciprocation and much less the harsh bite on his lower lip, strong enough he could taste his blood on their tongue. He moaned into their mouth, hands settling on their hips to pull them even closer. He did miss this.
It was hungry, sloppy, open-mouthed, but he still found it perfect. One hand rose to cup their cheek, and when they finally parted, gasping softly for air, he brushed it against their lower lip, smearing the remains of blood before slipping it inside their mouth. "That's better." He whispered, his voice husky. He felt their tongue against his digit before their teeth once again sank down on his flesh, and he groaned with a grin.
"Let's find somewhere more private, my pet. I believe we have some catching up to do."
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twinkletfout · 3 days
Text
Rude boy — part.3
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚
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When did you even get home last night?, you thought, sitting up as you looked down at your badly wrinkled satin dress that you wore the other night, the very same dress that his gentle fingers ran through. Memories flooded your mind before you got up, you realised you were still wearing one of your heels, as you undid that heel, you bend yourself to look under the bed, if that missing heel is there. Knowing yourself, you were right. Always under the bed. You reached your hand to grab it, when suddenly your phone rang. Making you flinch under the bed, you hit your head when you finally retrieved that fricking heel.
You sat down on the bed and reached for your phone, you realised it was an unknown number.
The message said,
“Same bar, at 9:15”
You wondered for a second who this was, it didn't take that much time to put two and two together.
“Is this the rude guy who paid me to pretend to be his fake gf?” —
— “Bingo”
Of course you were too tired from all that drinking and ‘action’ from last night, you had to refuse at least for today.
“Too busy this morning, can we do this later?”—
— “Change of plans“
The reply was quick like he was expecting this from you.
— “Get ready“
— “Right now”
Like hell you will, he cannot just do that, do all that decisions like he wants,
— “stop jk, i just woke up”
Your heart skipped a beat when you saw an incoming call from him. Taking a moment for yourself to mentally prepare yourself. You clicked the green button.
“Be nice and attractive, she is here. I need you right now.” — and that was it, he hung up.
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What are you even doing right now? You can't believe yourself getting all cheered up on his words as you obeyed his words getting all barbied up just to make his girl jealous. But you didn't know why, why, just why. You have enough money to live your own pretty life. You don't need his money? Why are you even doing this anyway? Your mind raced with questions and random scolding for yourself when you suddenly spotted him, leaning on a pole with one his hands inside the pockets of his cargo. Looking rather bored as he scrolled something on his phone. You had a firm grip on the handi bag you were carrying as you walked towards him.
He spotted you randomly when he looked up from his phone. He realised that you were kinda struggling to cross that road. But you didn't realise that he noticed. You only came to understand that he actually crossed the road to help you get to the other side. When his hand clasped with yours, you felt the same heat and burning from last night, maybe it was the pride of yours that got hurt slightly.
When the both of you were on the opposite side of the road, he didn't seem to say anything to you, “where is she?” You asked genuinely,
It took him a few moments to finally talk.
“Didn't expect you to actually come this early” he said avoiding eye contact as he looked over to the other side of the road.
“What do you mean ‘early’?” You were confused as you kinda looked around if you could catch a glimpse of that blond.
“she will be here, any minute now” he finally looked at you as he said, even though he completely ignored your questions. You were waiting for him to look at you but the moment his gaze fell on you, you cant help but look away.
You both stood side by side in total awkwardness for some good 10 minutes, you guessed.
“if she isn't coming, I am still getting paid tho '' you randomly said out of nowhere. You didn't look at him when you said, his head shot at you. “Did i hear something?” He mumbled.
“You heard me” you said before he could. “Loud and clear~” he said as he scratched the back of his head. The two of you have been waiting for almost 1 hour now. Your feet were starting to hurt, “is your pretty gf gonna show up or what?” You basically moaned from impatience and the growing pain climbing up your body. “Maybe you don't know her that well” you didn't know why you let that slip from your mouth. He was fidgeting his finger behind his back as he kept looking around, but with your statement, he was completely shut down. After a while he spoke again. “This is her favourite place, I'm sure she will…” he didn't bother completing whatever he was about to say, but you understood. “I'm sure she will come” and you completed it for him.
“my feet ‘s really starting to hurt, you know?” you protested giving in to the pain. You knew he was about to say something about your comment but suddenly his body shifted and he picked you up easily, his hands enveloping around your thighs. The short skirt that you found in your closet was certainly a wrong move for today. “What are you—” your words cut off as you realised when you looked far from his shoulder, in a very slim black dress that hugged onto her body until it covered down her knees, cute white puff sleeves. Her blond hair tied to a slick bun. A new stranger was accompanying her, she was clinging onto his shoulder, laughing suddenly when he said something.
You guessed that he picked you up because his ex-lover suddenly showed up and with a man, that must be it. He had a strong grip as he carried you inside the bar, gently putting you down on the sofa as his face looked rather bored. “Such a romantic” you teased. “Shut up” there came back the reply, he sat down beside you, “how do you feel?” He asked, “much better”
You thought he would be kind of shocked to see that blondie with another man but maybe he already saw them together before, you put it aside for awhile, but when she walked inside the bar, all of the attention was on her. You felt him stiffening beside you, turning your face to meet his face. You saw his eyes darken, the vein on his jaw pop, he suddenly looked away and towards your gaze. And you knew, you knew that it was the first time he came to know all of this too, just like you. The last hope that was obvious on his face extinguished when you didn't take your eyes away, not this time. And that was the only thing that made you two different during this moment.
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cosmicjoke · 16 hours
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I saw somewhere that someone said that Levi takes out his anger by kicking and breaking things whenever he doesn't get his way. One of the examples they gave was that when Levi asked Erwin to stay behind and Erwin refused, Levi took it out on others (Eren and Jean). Both because his wish was not realized and because it triggered his abandonment issues. What do you think about that? And another question I have is, is Levi usually angry? Yes he's usually rude and he's always walking around with a frowny muscular face but I see some people saying that he's usually angry. Maybe it's because things don't always go his way. Is it because he sees things going wrong all the time?
Levi tends to rely on violence to solve problems, that's true. That's just the way he was raised. Framing it as him "kicking and breaking" things whenever he "doesn't get his way" is wrong, though. For the example you cited, Levi was upset, not because Erwin refused to stay behind, but because Erwin admitted to him that he cared more about his personal dream than he did humanity's victory, and Levi was questioning whether the man he had chosen to believe in and follow was really who he thought he was. He was upset at the idea that he'd chosen to trust in someone who wasn't actually a good person. People who want to frame his anger here as being rooted in some romantic feeling for Erwin would say it's Levi's fear of abandonment, but really, it has nothing to do with that. That's what I mean when I say it warps ones ability to view Levi's character objectively when you insist he was "in love" with Erwin and then try to frame every one of his actions through that lens.
I wouldn't say Levi is "angry". Levi certainly has a temper, but his anger always comes out of a place of compassion. If he gets angry, it's because he cares and is worried about others. More often than not, Levi is calm and very collected. He doesn't lose his head and act irrationally, especially under pressure. Someone who was angry all the time wouldn't ever be able to think straight, and that's not Levi at all. I think Levi expects things to go wrong, because his life has been so hard, and he's used to things going wrong. Someone asked me the other day if Levi has social anxiety, and I answered that I didn't think so, but they also asked if he has generalized anxiety, and I think the answer to that is yes, again, because he expects things to go wrong due to his life experience. So if Levi seems on edge or angry often, it's because he's anticipating the worst a lot of the time, and, again, the reason that would make him anxious or put him on edge is because he cares.
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mama-qwerty · 2 days
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Knuckles Series - My Way
Okay, so overall, my whole family had fun watching it together, and there were things I liked about it, and things I thought could have been done better.
So how would I have handled the series?
Buckle up, this’ll get long.
We open the same way (without Sonic’s voiceover – let Knuckles explain things and get us into his mindspace) and see Knux training in his home-built obstacle course. Once he’s done, he feels victorious, before his smile drops and a new expression clouds his features as a thought occurs.
Now what?
He’s the most dangerous warrior in the galaxy. He’s bested countless opponents, survived harsh environments and any challenger who came forth. He successfully completed his quest to find the Master Emerald, allowing his tribe and ancestors to finally find peace.
But that’s something he can’t understand how to cope with.
Peace.
He’s never known it. All his life has been a struggle, a fight, a battle to be waged and won. Now that he is safe, without constant bounty hunters after him, without fearing being tossed into an arena to fight for his life, what does he do with himself? What’s next?
This is when he heads back to the house to ‘battle’ the handymen. Maddie tries to soothe things over, but they drive off, and she makes her way to Knux, who’s celebrating his victory over the ‘trespassers’ with Cool Ranch Doritos.
Now, instead of her getting frustrated and just walking off to talk to the others about the “little red barbarian”, she sits down with him and tries to have a real talk. Tries to get to know him, and understand him better. He’s still in the kind of arrogant, boastful, “I’m the most dangerous warrior in the galaxy” mindset, so he’s not really listening. But she tries.
Next thing you know, he’s on the roof with Ozzy and Sonic goes up to chat with him. He meditates, does the fighting pit and Iron Throne, and gets grounded. All that can stay the same.
Here’s where we diverge.
Sonic comes up, gives him the “Just relax” speech, and Knuckles does some grumbling about it before sitting near the Master Emerald. He vents a bit about how he can best any challenger, but doing nothing is harder than any battle he’s ever faced. He just doesn’t know what to do with himself, so he prays to his ancestors for guidance.
The ME glows, and his father appears before him in a vision. Dad tells Knuckles he is so proud of him, and when Knux questions what he should do now, Dad tells him that the time for fighting is at an end. That echidna weren’t always warriors—they were protectors once, using their strength to keep those weaker safe.
Knuckles contemplates this, and asks what that means for him. He has already pledged his life to protecting the Master Emerald, what else is there?
His father smiles, and shakes his head.
“My son, there is so much you have missed as you journeyed to finish our quest. You were so young when I left you. Do you not remember the village? Our tribe? We had songs, and history, and traditions that brought us a sense of belonging and togetherness. We were more than a tribe. We were a family. A home. Any man is stronger when he has those he cares for at his side. Those he trusts.”
Knuckles bristles at this. “I was hunted for most of my life. Constantly searching. I have no home. No tribe. Not anymore. I am alone.”
Dad shakes his head again. “That is not true. But I fear you will not believe me, so you shall have to come to see that for yourself.”
Knux gives a harumph. “The honor of the echidna falls to me alone.”
“Our honor was tainted by the actions of some so long ago that the truth has become lost. Your quest is ended. Your fight, over. You’ve returned what was once used and lost by those with ill intent. Your actions are noble. That is where true honor lies.”
Silence settles for a moment, before Knuckles speaks again, softly.
“I miss you. I . . . was not prepared for what I found in my journeys.” He paused. “For what found me.”
“I know, my son. I curse my own stubbornness for not turning back once the battle looked too lost. For leaving you so alone. I beg your forgiveness for being such a fool.”
“You were a warrior. Your brothers in arms needed you.”
“I was a father first and foremost. My son needed me more.”
More silence. Knuckles looks so much younger now, his face relaxed and pensive, his body no longer rigid and proud. Now he’s just a lost child, missing his father, and unsure what his future holds.
“You must stop living your life for us,” his father says, his voice soft. “You’ve completed our quest, and I am proud of you for that. But this was not the life I wanted for you. I have seen how some can become so focused on battling to the death, they forget to live life in between. I want you to live, my son. I want you to find happiness and light in your world. I want you to seek out those weaker than you, and lend your strength to them.”
Knuckles is quiet for a moment.
“I have done things I am not proud of. Trusted those who betrayed me. Hurt people. Been tricked into helping those who are evil.”
“The fault lies with those who have tricked you, or betrayed you. Not with you for trusting them. You have a pure heart, my son. Like your mother. Do not let the actions of others cause that heart to grow cold.”
So they finish up their little heart-to-heart and Knuckles decides to take his father’s words to heart. No time like the present, so he sneaks out of the house to wander the town and see where he can help.
MEANWHILE
I haven’t gotten Wade’s story all figured out, but maybe he’s feeling particularly down today because it’s the anniversary of when his dad abandoned him. He tried to go to the bowling alley to try and recapture that feeling of being with his dad, but it’s not working and only making him more miserable. He gets smack talked by Susie (or whomever) and feels so dejected he just leaves.
Now, normally when Wade moves through town, he’s all smiles and greeting everyone. But today he’s quiet and sullen and walking like he’s got a little rain cloud above him. No one seems to really notice or care, but Knuckles notices and decides to follow.
He watches as Wade throws his bowling ball into the trash. Curious, Knux digs it out and follows him back to his house. Wade goes in, goes to the kitchen, opens the fridge to grab a beer, and when he closes the door Knuckles is just there, scaring Wade half to death. (I have a headcanon that Knux can be so stealthy he seems to just appear sometimes.)
Knuckles asks Wade what troubles him, which launches into the whole “I used to love bowling with my dad, until he just left” backstory. Maybe Wade’s been writing letters, trying to get his dad to contact him, to at least get an answer for why he left. But he’s never heard back.
Wade’s father’s abandonment is what’s caused Wade’s meek and people-pleasing personality. Maybe he thinks he angered his dad somehow or disappointed him and that’s why Pete left. So Wade never wants to do anything to anger or disappoint anyone else. But this way of life is making him miserable, because no one takes him seriously, and he’s treated like a joke. He knows this but doesn’t know how to change.
Knuckles sees the obvious answer. “If your father’s disappearance is what caused you to lose your confidence, then confronting him would help you gain it back.”
Wade’s not so sure, but lets Knux talk him into going on a road trip to Reno, where Pete’s competing in the Championship Bowling thing.
They still stop at Wade’s mom’s house—because his sister is a big reason he feels inferior—and his mom is exactly the same because I love her, but his sister has got to have a personality change. Maybe she’s always been jealous of Wade because he was the favorite child, or she’s a bit angry because Wade always held out some hope that Pete would come back (which in turn, gave their mother that hope, which Wanda never shared and thought a waste of energy). Wanda holds a lot of anger toward Pete for running out on them, and because Wade and Pete were so close, she transfers a lot of those bad feelings to Wade.
She’s not in the FBI. She’s not some bratty kid in a grown woman’s body, being a real bitch to Wade. But she has anger and bitterness toward Pete, and thinks Wade’s trip to see him is a waste of time. And maybe she pulls him aside and tells him this, as a way to try and save him from being hurt again. Maybe she even tells Knuckles that this is only going to end up making Wade feel worse.
As the siblings bicker and argue, making Mother Whipple feel bad, Knuckles has had it and declares that they will fight to hash out these negative feelings. He hands them both Nerf bats, and they just pummel each other as they spit out everything they’ve felt. Eventually an epiphany happens, and Wade yells “I just want to know that he didn’t leave because of me!”
Everyone freezes. Wade goes on to say that ever since his dad left, he’s always thought it was his fault. Because he wasn’t what his dad wanted. Because he did something wrong, or wasn’t good enough, or something. And he knows that Pete leaving hurt his mom, and his sister was mad at not only their dad but him too, so he tried to be ‘good’ and not make others mad. He was always afraid to be himself since then, because if his own dad didn’t like him, then what hope did that leave for anyone else to?
Wade felt forced to change who he was in order to survive. That’s something Knuckles can identify with.
Basically, the whole thing would be both of them coming to understand that family legacy doesn’t necessarily mean that’s who they have to be. That they can choose who they are, without some expectation hanging over them based on their ancestors. That their strength comes from within, not from being the best warrior (Knuckles) or having his father’s approval (Wade).
And that you can still find your home and family, even if it’s been a long time since you’d been part of one.
We don’t even necessarily have to have a dedicated antagonist in this. It could be a form of Man vs Self, where they find themselves in situations that their current behavior exacerbates.
If there is an external villain, maybe something a little different, like a collector of exotic animals gets wind of Knuckles being out of the protection of Green Hills, and sets out to nab him for himself. Or it could be someone who wants Knux for his secret fighting ring or something. This could bring up bad memories for Knux, of being captured and sold as a child, and forced to fight in arenas for the amusement of others.
All in all, instead of having GUN as the villain of the week (again), with some dude who’s using Knux’s own power against him (again), this could have had a more introspective feel that didn’t fall into the “kids have to fight some big baddie” trope. The enemy they’re both fighting is within themselves.
The whole point would be for Knuckles to realize that he didn’t HAVE to fight all the time, and discover that there’s more to him than just being the most dangerous warrior in the galaxy. That he’s allowed to have fun, to have preferences and new experiences that in no way have anything to do with training or besting others. That he’s allowed to discover who he is, and get back in touch with the child inside he’d been protecting all these years.
I want him to see things in wonder. I want him to explore the world, to be captivated by things he’s never seen before. To feel comfortable letting his guard down, being close with others, and just being a little silly.
I want him to learn that it’s okay to be a kid. And I want Wade to learn it’s okay to be a grown up. Because Knuckles grew up before his time, and Wade kept himself from growing up for fear of being like his dad, or being abandoned again.
I think there were some good kernels in the series, perfect for the fandom to take and run with.
I’m not sure how much I’ll play with the events of the series, but I have had some scenes with Callie meeting Wade’s family percolating.
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cricketnationrise · 3 days
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20 questions for fic writers
Thanks to @cha-melodius, @kiwiana-writes, and @happiness-of-the-pursuit for the tags!
How many works do you have on ao3?
253
What's your total ao3 word count?
481,635
What fandoms do you write for?
RWRB, Check Please!, Tortall, verrrry occassionally The Parasol Protectorate
Top five fics by kudos:
Going Platinum - camboy!Alex AU
Burnin' Through the Sky - speed dating meet-cute
Set in Platinum - camboy!Alex sequel
warm from the inside out - some stuff happens under a desk 😉
Downburst - In The Shadow of Two Gunmen/West Wing AU
Do you respond to comments?
I have responded to every comment so far!
What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
I don't tend to write angsty endings. That being said, this Check, Please! ficlet I wrote for @shygryf is very angsty: Hotel Room, Mar. 1 (I did fix it with a later ficlet, but on it's own...)
What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Most of them tbh. I'm an unrepentant happy ending lover.
Do you get hate on fics?
Nothing that comes to mind--I've been extremely lucky. I've gotten some baffling ones and some with a strange tone, but I think that's more down to English not being their first language, not hate.
Do you write smut?
Yes.
Craziest crossover:
I tend toward fusions/AUs rather than actual crossovers. Although there are Check Please! easter eggs in the Going Platinum universe.
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I know of.
Have you ever had a fic translated?
Not that I know of, although I would hope that any translator would have let me know so that I can flail in overwhelmed gratitude.
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Not yet, although there's one that's been sitting for a year-ish that I'm gonna be really excited to finally get to.
All time favorite ship?
I won't choose and you can't make me.
What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
Not right now. All the wips I've got that are more than just like, one line or a title, I'm really excited about writing and sharing.
What are your writing strengths?
Immersive descriptions, humor, and metaphors. This bitch loves a metaphor.
What are your writing weaknesses?
Action scenes. I'm getting better, but any time I have a particularly big action scene I beg on my knees for @cha-melodius to get into the doc.
Thoughts on dialogue in another language?
Only If I feel confident about the translation. I'll usually get a native speaker to check it over if it's more than an easy phrase I already know/can google, especially if it's a whole conversation.
First fandom you wrote in?
Check, Please!
Favorite fic you've written?
You're so mean to me making me pick. Le sigh, fine.
Check, Please!: How Delightful if that Were True - Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society AU (100% homegrown epistolary baybee)
RWRB: More Than Brick and Mortar - sentient Brownstone AU, magical realism
Tortall: i'll rise up in spite of the ache - hockey AU of First Test
Parasol Protectorate: No Small Matter - 5+1 pranks on Conall that I wrote for @homobiwan
(narrowing these down was absolute agony, btw. hope you're happy.)
Tags under the cut, but if you wanna do this, who am I to stop you? Aka consider this your open tag.
@celeritas2997 @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @inexplicablymine @leaves-of-laurelin @anincompletelist
@firenati0n @missanniewhimsy @montrealmadison @doggernaut @parvuls
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Pretty As A Picture - Part 3
Marvel
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes
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Summary: When Bucky fell from the train, their soulmate was told he was gone. When Steve Rogers disappeared into the ice, their soulmate was again told one her soulmates were gone. But she didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. Committed to a mental health institute, she dies of a broken heart. That's at least what the hidden S.H.I.E.LD files say, but if that's the case than why is there a photo of her. A photo that shows her side by side two redhaired Avengers.
Warnings will be per chapter.
For this fic reader will be British, but let your imagination replace if needed.
Chapter Summary: Everyone is confused, nothing makes sense and what does Romanoff know?
Chapter Warning: Mentions of vomiting, sad Steve, sad Bucky.
It didn’t take long for the team to jump into action, naturally separating to try and best support their soul brothers.
Sam and Tony followed the heaving of Steve into the bathroom, Rhodey started pulling out cold bottles of water from the refrigerator. Bruce, Natasha and Wanda knelt in front of Bucky as Vision took the photos Wanda was holding scanning through quickly for anymore of their soulmate before putting them and the frames back into the print room.
Steve had finally lost it, he thought to himself as he harshly threw up the sandwich Sam had made him at lunch. First he sacrifices himself and then he’s in the ice for seventy years, he wakes up in a fake room and his first thought is his soulmate, then Bucky, followed by ‘why is this room fake’, and he runs. Everything is different, absolutely everything. He’s never felt so alone. He meets the team and discovers their his soul friends, making them soul family. None of it makes sense. Why did he have a soul brother, Bucky, and a shared soulmate, for everyone else to be in this new life. It makes no sense and he still feels alone. Nat and Clint are close, Bruce and Tony bond over science and Thor leaves to return his wayward brother to Asgard. He finds Peggy but there’s no sign of their soulmate. They’ve been deleted from every statement, every plan, even archive footage and then in a lucid moment Peggy mentions their girl was admitted to a mental institution. Shipped home and locked up, she says, and for a moment she tells him how she tried to get a guardianship in place but then she’s gone again. Lucid moment over.
After the fall of S.H.E.I.L.D and before Ultron, Steve breaks down, too much Asgardian mead in his system and too many soulmate couples around. He doesn’t even have a grave to lay flowers at. Pepper and Nat wrap him in a hug, Tony starts looking through his Dad’s old paperwork, Sam starts looking for graves as well as looking for Bucky and then Natasha looks again. Not like she hasn’t looked a hundred times already and there’s no sign of their soulmate anywhere. Then Peggy’s estate is finalised and a British agent, double 0 something hands Steve a file during a liaison meeting and their soulmate is found. There’s no photographs but it’s full of information, her role within British Special Forces, a rarity even during the war. How Peggy had seen some of her mapping and plans and had snatched their girl away to work with her and The Howling Commandos and then the mental institution. Steve thinks about that file and decides he needs to look at it again, for what will probably be the thousandth time. He tries to get up but struggles. He hears Sam’s voice and there’s hands around him pulling him to his feet.
Sam guides him out of the cubicle and to the sink where he washes his hands and face. Tony appears from somewhere with a toothbrush and mouthwash. They both look concerned but also confused. Neither knowing what to say. The silence is broken by Rhodey entering the bathroom and handing Steve a bottle of water.
“You OK?” he asks. Tony and Sam roll their eyes.
“Not exactly.”
“That was a stupid question wasn’t it?”
“You think?” “Yep” came Tony and Sam’s replies.
“Barnes needs you. He’s not responding to the others.”
“Shit” and Steve’s feet are moving before the rest of him is engaged and he’s almost falling into the corridor before he knows where he is.
“Buck?”
The others pull away and Steve is pulling him to his feet. He hugs him with everything he can, even in his washed out state. Bucky pulls away and finally speaks again.
“It makes no sense Stevie.”
Broken. That’s how Bucky sounds and Steve is pulling him back into his arms. The team watch them as they seek comfort in each other. Wondering if this is how they were before but with their soulmate between them. Comfortable in each other’s presence. Bucky comfortable with affection and Steve open about his emotions.
“I know Buck but it means she’s here. We’ve found her. We’ve got our girl back.”
Tony brushed a stray tear from his cheek and cleared his throat.
“Does someone want to start explaining? And by someone, I mean you Romanoff, and don’t think you three are exempt from this either.” Tony said, pointing at Bruce, Vision and Wanda. “Do you remember when we came back here? When we came back together? We made a promise? No more secrets.”
“Tony.” Bruce went to interrupt, keen to defend his own soulmate.
“No, we don’t brush over this. You’ve known for how long? HOW LONG?” Tony snapped. The team jumped in surprise, even the super soldiers, surprised by his outburst. Tony could barely stand them at the moment and now he was sticking up for them.
“What’s going on?” Pepper’s voice suddenly added to the conversation as she joined them in the corridor. She wrapped her arms around Tony and he held her tightly. Pepper’s eyes scanned the team as she leaned out of the embrace. Wanda and Nat looked tearful, everyone looked puzzled. “OK, let’s try again, what’s going on? Why are you watching Steve and Bucky hugging? Should I call the therapist again?”
Sam was the first to break and let out a small laugh, nervous laughter but it set Rhodey off too.
“You know I didn’t think our whole soul family thing could be anymore fucked up but here we are.”  He laughed out.
“But really should I call the therapist?” Pepper asked.
Calmed by his soulmate’s presence, Tony was the first to answer.
“Pep, I love your dedication towards us figuring out this mashed up family but the therapist can’t help with this one.”
Steve smiled softly at them both, still wrapped in each other’s arms. Bucky pulled away from Steve and stepped towards Pepper, passing the photos to her.
“She’s pretty. Who is she?”
“She’s our girl.” Bucky almost whispered. It didn’t slip Pepper how broken Bucky sounded or that his eyes were bloodshot and his face was wet with tears or that Steve looked like he’d seen a ghost. He kind of had. It also didn’t slip passed her that their soulmate wasn’t alone in these pictures.
“You knew? You two knew? You promised me Natasha. You promised me you looked. That you tried to find her!”
Natasha went to speak but Pepper was quick to cut her off.
“I don’t want to hear it. Everyone in meeting room four now. Two days. I’m gone for two days and this happens.”
Pepper stormed down the corridor with a smug looking Tony trailing behind. He loved it when she was assertive.
One by one the team joined them. Bucky was first, sitting immediately across from Pepper and he didn’t miss that although the therapist may not have been present, she’d picked the room most like a therapists. Soft couches and pillows, with plants dotted around.
“Please may I have her back?” Bucky asked Pepper.
“Her?”
“The photos I mean, I’d like to look at them please.”
“Sorry Bucky of course” she replied passing them back.
“You holding up OK?” Tony asked, taking Bucky by surprise.
“Not really.”
Rhodey was next to enter, coffees in his hand, passing one to Tony and one to Bucky. Thank yous were muttered as a sheepish Wanda entered carrying a tray with a pot of camomile tea and cups, followed by Vision. Sam was next with more coffees, followed by an uneasy looking Nat and Bruce. Steve was last carrying the file. The file double o something had given him placing it on the table. Tony noticed the handwriting immediately. Peggy Carter’s.
The atmosphere was uneasy as Steve looked around the room, he glanced to his left where Bucky sat alongside him, full of emotions. He knew then he needed to take the lead, push his emotions to one side, piece this together and get their girl back. He sat straight in the chair and in what the team had called his ‘Captain voice’ broke the silence.
“Romanoff start talking.”
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The Apothecary Diaries
S1E17 First Watch
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Here's where I watch The Apothecary Diaries for the first time and give my thoughts, analysis, predictions, and occasionally I stumble into a joke.
To start at the beginning:
Episode 1
My character/locations cheat sheet
Suiren - Jinshi's attendant
Lakan - master strategist
Basan - an officer who works in the palace
This episode opens with Jinshi asking Maomao for help with makeup, and Suiren decides that this is a great time to leave these two alone. Maomao believes that to make Jinshi any more beautiful would cause men to go to war.
Maomao: If this man in all his heavenly glory were to put on makeup... Are you trying to topple a nation?
Jinshi: Where'd that come from? On second thought, I would rather you don't tell me.
Is he? Not that he's trying to use his looks to do it, but it's an interesting thought. Is Jinshi interested in toppling a nation? Or perhaps dethroning an emperor? What an interesting thing to ponder. Also, is Jinshi worried that Maomao suspects him capable of insurgency?
Jinshi very much cannot afford to be found talking about toppling nations. I'm sure that the people in power who know who he really is, are already keeping an eye on him to see if he will make a play for the throne. Perhaps it is one of the reasons he was sent to manage the Rear Palace. If he makes a single misstep that could be seen as disloyal to the emperor, it would be enough to depose of Jinshi.
Ah! Jinshi wants some freckles! No, he wants to look like a completely different person. I'm sure he has a reason for wanting this disguise, but to Jinshi who has been the target of so much sexual harassment, being able to look common must feel like having a shield. He and Maomao can probably relate on this. Unlike Maomao, Jinshi can't do this regularly, his beauty is a tool that he is required to use. I also don't know that he would choose to change his appearance regularly. Even if he sees his beauty as a curse, I think he's comfortable enough with his appearance that he doesn't want to regularly alter it. Maomao does offer a more permeant solution, and Jinshi turns it down. His refusal could be because he needs his beauty as a tool, but I would guess that he doesn't want to change himself. All of that said, he's looking forward to this disguise that Maomao is going to prepare.
Maomao sees Jinshi first thing in the morning and is stunned by his beauty. She's annoyed at herself for being so affected by this man.
Jinshi: What's this? Why are you already wearing a scowl? Maomao: It's nothing. I was just noticing how lovely you are yet again. Jinshi: A little early for sarcasm.
Jinshi has tried to use his appearance on Maomao before, and it has failed every time. She's made it clear that she's not interested in him because of how he looks, so to get a comment like this one, he's sure she's teasing him. Which she is but she's also serious. It's interesting that Maomao is letting Jinshi know that she sees the physical appeal of him, when she never has before. And it's happening in an unguarded moment when Jinshi isn't trying to preen or seduce. I wonder why it's happening now. Perhaps it is just something that has been growing.
Maomao does something that disturbs everyone in the room for different reasons. She grabs Jinshi's wrist and sniffs him. Jinshi is blushing, the action a lascivious one to him. Suiren and Gaoshun interpret it the same way, but are shocked to witness it. Maomao explains that his disguise needs to start from his scent.
Jinshi ponders how well Maomao understands the world of the courtesan. He considers Lakan's suggestion to ask Maomao about how to lower a courtesan's value. Will he work up the nerve to ask? Jinshi isn't one to shy away from difficult conversations, however this is a loaded question. Asking it could reflect poorly on Jinshi. We shall see.
And does Maomao know anything about makeup? The gal was an apothecary that worked in a brothel. I'm sure she's an expert.
And she is. Her brilliance mixed with her experience means she's a master of disguise. She uses various methods to completely overhaul Jinshi's appearance, down to the most intimate details such as scent and sound of his voice. During Maomao's work to transform Jinshi, she takes time to admire various parts of Jinshi's body, such as the smoothness of his hair, the clarity of his skin, and the tone of his physique.
Jinshi is enjoying having Maomao's full attention on him and her hands all over his body, and he's going to think about this day every night before he goes to sleep. Maomao will probably also think about this day. It's a rather convenient excuse for both of them to enjoy some intimacy that they won't allow without the pretense. Meanwhile, Suiren can barely handle the multiple indignities that Jinshi has to endure to don this disguise.
Before Maomao commits to altering Jinshi's face, she can't resist putting some lipstick on him. Just to see. A little experiment if you will. One that now lives rent free in the minds of not only Maomao, but Gaoshun and Suiren too. I would give anything to see Jinshi in full glam in this show.
Nothing gets past Maomao and she finds the callouses on Jinshi's palms, surmising that he must train with weapons, which she notes is not a typical eunuch activity. Add that to the mountain of evidence that Jinshi is more than a eunuch official, that Maomao will promptly ignore.
Oh hell yeah! Suiren and Gaoshun are teaming up to send Maomao on a date with Jinshi. He couldn't possibly be seen with his usual companions, that would be too suspicious. Maomao points out the obvious, which is that she is also a well known attendant of Jinshi's. No problem, Maomao can be given a disguise too. And what Gaoshun couldn't? These two could not be more transparent. It's too bad that Maomao can't read this kind of obvious play when it relates to herself.
Maomao is dressed as a pretty young lady from a good family. And she is accompanied by Jinshi who is going out as her attendant. Jinshi loves this role reversal, and Maomao is teaching him how to play his part well. Who they are performing for isn't clear.
Basan is here, hanging back and watching Jinshi live out another one of his fantasies. Will Basan become jealous? One can only hope!
Jinshi is getting progressively more upset that Maomao is drifting in her own thoughts instead of chatting with him. He gets all pouty when Maomao says they have nothing to talk about. His fantasy date isn't going how he imagined it would.
Maomao picks up some meat skewers and after removing the cotton from his mouth Jinshi tucks in with fond memories from "camp." I'm assuming he's talking about time spent with the military. Maomao notes this isn't typical of a eunuch. I wonder what is even left on the list of things about Jinshi that resemble a eunuch.
Suiren and Gaoshun have a discussion about Jinshi and Maomao while they're out. They are pleased with themselves for setting up this outing, but Suiren is referring to Maomao as a toy, as Gaoshun used to. She talks about Jinshi as a boy and how he would fixate on one thing, and how Gaoshun would struggle to find something else to shift his attention. Gaoshun thinks that Jinshi can't afford to be so focused on Maomao. Maybe he's worried about how Maomao makes Jinshi more susceptible to manipulation from people like Lakan. Or maybe he means that with Jinshi's status, that it can't be allowed.
I've come to realize that this show is going to be much, much longer than the single season I'm on. The progress of this romance is like the slowest slow burn. Jinshi and Maomao have been stuck at an impasse for ages. Whenever they do make progress it's in the smallest increment possible that takes more brain power than I have to process and tease out. But I've digressed.
Basan looks like he's starting to enjoy this assignment now that he's picked up some meat skewers, and he can now enjoy both a juicy meal and the juicy conversation he's overhearing.
Jinshi is hurt that Maomao seems to want to get away from him as soon as possible. He asks her very earnestly if she enjoys her life in the palace. She really does, but she is worried about her father.
Maomao reveals more about her father Luomen. I think Jinshi is starting to put some pieces together about what position Luomen might have held. He'll need those clues when he gets closer to figuring out Maomao's true identity.
And it is good to see Maomao open up a little bit. She so rarely talks to Jinshi or anyone about her past, her hopes or her fears. That she does so here, with Jinshi is a step towards friendship.
Maomao sees the restaurant that Jinshi has an appointment at and notices all the ladies hanging over the men outside. She says she could have taken Jinshi to some place in the Pleasure District if this was what he was interested in. She sounds disappointed in Jinshi, or maybe she is disappointed in herself for the jealousy she feels. That she both thinks Jinshi is a eunuch and that he want to visit a courtesan is... interesting. Not that I don't think a eunuch couldn't have fun at a brothel, mind you, but still, her ability to misread a situation is always interesting. I'm confident that Jinshi is not here to meet up with someone for the reasons Maomao thinks. He may be here to meet a courtesan, but if he is, than it is to gather intel.
Honestly I'd support Jinshi if he were here for a hook up. He's committed to no one at this point, and at this rate he'll hook up with Maomao by about the time he is old enough to functionally be a eunuch, so have at it. Go wild Jinshi.
Jinshi finally gets up the courage to ask a terrible question: how to reduce the value of a courtesan. Maomao answers as I expected, you either take her purity or worse yet, you impregnant her. I'm gonna be sick. Lakan is so terrible. Just why is Jinshi so interested in this topic? Is this all to find dirt on Lakan? Does Jinshi suspect Maomao's origins are from the courtesan that Lakan "decreased the value of?" Does Jinshi have his own motives for wanting to decrease the value of a courtesan?
Jinshi is stunned, or perhaps horrified to realize what it might take to lower the value of a courtesan. It's a surreal conversation between these two. Maomao has to wonder why Jinshi is even asking the question. I can't think that she would believe Jinshi wants to use this method to decrease the value of a courtesan, but perhaps she thinks he might be interested in purchasing someone's contract? I don't know what Jinshi hopes to do with the info. Is this something he hopes to figure out to help him against Lakan? If he was hoping the answer would help him find a way to help Maomao, he now knows it's a method that he won't be willing to use. I really can't see him trying to take her purity or impregnate her. If those things were ever going to happen, he would want them to be out of mutual affection, which is still lightyears away.
I kept expecting this outing to be fun, and parts of it are, but there is so much that is undefined and unsaid between these two that there is an unsteady tension throughout the whole outing. Ultimately, the date fails to change any of it. Maomao does open up a bit about her father which is amazing. We so rarely see her talk about her life or her hopes or goals. Jinshi listens intently. And that is kind of the highlight of the day to me.
Obviously the final conversation about how to reduce the cost of a courtesan is important too. But without seeing the end of that conversation I can only guess what impact a question like that might have on these two's relationship. Because the implications of even asking the question aren't great, and I don't know where Maomao's mind is. What does she think Jinshi capable of? I tend to think she knows and trusts Jinshi pretty well, but when there is emotion involved her judgement gets all screwy.
And we haven't yet learned what Jinshi is up to. He wanted to come here in disguise for a reason. I assume he is trying to get information to help him against Lakan. At least, I hope that's what he's up to. Lakan is bad news.
To start at the beginning: Episode 1
Next Episode:
Coming Soon!
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mochiwrites · 2 days
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during third life after the battle of the red desert, scar is patching grian up after the battle, the new yellow life has been particularly silent, just kind of staring at scar, who feels alittle flustered under his gaze, the intensity he’s used to, but there’s someone more.. he doesn’t know how to describe it. so he averts his eyes, puts on his most charming smile, and turns grian around, looking at the arrow wound that is scarred over, applying some gel to the raised scar tissue, hoping to soothe it slightly. the scar represents a vow ended. will grian leave tomorrow? what will the future hold. the questions stir in his gut but he lets them fall from his mind like sand falling from his fingers.
no need to think in what mays when he can hold on to what he has now. he traces that wound, fingers feather soft, lets himself mourn a moment, before finishing checking him over for any other wounds. grian wets his lips, dry from the heated air, even at night, he utters his first words of the night “kiss it better” escapes before he can catch his tongue. scar pauses, stock still, hands feeling too large all of a sudden, “sorry?” “kiss it better, so it’ll heal” grian says again, strained by his embarrassment, but holding strong. scar hands slowly caresses grians skin, reverently worshipping the skin given, soft against his rough hands, rough from battle, from building, from time. scar leans in, and places a soft kiss to the skin, moving slowly like grian would run away. could run away. kisses him as though he doesn’t understand that grian spins in orbit of scar, that he’s caught by him, drawn in by every quip, half smile and smooth line, by his gentle sweetness, by his bright faced smiles that light his whole face, by scar.
grian turns to face scar then, and their eyes burn against eachother, held in a intense quiet, scar is about to speak, mouth open, when grian moves into him again, hands placed on his shoulders as he slots their lips together. scar gasps, heart bursting and face heating before they’re kissing. grian pushes, trying to turn it rough, intense, trying to push every word he’s not brave enough to utter, almost bruising in his force. scar leans back slightly, taking grians face in his palm, turning the kiss soft, slow. grian follows, and that’s all they do for a moment. exchange sweet kisses, grians eyes closed tight, afraid to open them, as scar looks on sadly, cherishing every wrinkle and line, the redness of grians cheeks, his quiet gasps between kisses. then grian pulls away, and scar lets him, hand following the action, always following, idly tucking some hair behind grians ear. “i’m staying” is what grian says. “i love you” is what he means, tilting his head to kiss scars hand, gaze not leaving scars eyes. scars gaze softens, a weight in his chest lifted, he leans into grians space, kissing over his face. “i’m staying you too” he smirks, reading between the lines. grian groans softly at that, all dramatics as he rolls his eyes and pretends it doesn’t send his heart racing, layers delicately peeled back and exposed, he lets himself bask in it for once, vulnerable and exposed as it was.
he laces his fingers into scars other hand, and after a few more kisses they lay in bed, grian smushing himself against scar as thought he could become one with scar, one could say clinging, as scar traced little flowers into grians waist absentmindedly. they chat idly about battle plans for some moments, but slowly sleep creeps up on them. scar traces grians figure before he closes his eyes. when he opens his eyes again grian is still a warm weight against him, still there. he breaths relief.
when scar closes his eyes for the last time in this little world of theirs, surrounded by their home, grian is still a warm weight against him, salt raining on his face, “i’ll stay” grian begs into his hair. scars heart clenches, his ribs constrict. he sounds so lost. so sad. he can hardly see but he reaches for his light, pressing into him. scar doesn’t respond. grian sobs openly and loudly, the sound tearing out of him. takes scars hand and kisses it, still warm with fake life.
uhh oops this was supposed to be a prompt
HELP
honestly anon I don't think I need to add anything to this or do it as a prompt. this is perfect as is HDGJFHGJFG
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