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girlystories · 6 months

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Being the Bowers gang girl

Both platonic & romantic headcanons. includes all members.

addition warnings: swearing, bullying, very few depictions of sexism, few derogatory names, toxicity, abusive parenting.

words: 2.6k

this was entirely inspired by z0mbiekittyy, so please check them out!

Meeting/joining the gang

you were at first the quiet, loner girl who kept to herself, only having a few acquaintances, with very few friends.

it wasn't because you were a loser. only the opposite. everyone wanted to become friends with you or get to know you in some way but you never let anyone get close.

everyone had heard of you of course. when they realized you were different they stopped trying to read you or make their mind about you.

that was until greta keene couldn't get enough. she hated the attention you got. so one day she started spreading rumors about you.

it was relatively easy, since no one knew you enough to disprove them in any way. one word went to another and everyone in town now started talking shit about you.

despite that, you didn't care. you had your mind somewhere else. popularity and school drama weren't your thing.

you didn't mind hearing the remarks spat at you when you wandered the halls or when you were in class. you were completely and utterly unbothered.

word got fast that it even reached the all too feared bowers gang.

you were making your way to biology class when you were shoved against a locker, all your books falling one by one on the floor.

"well well well, if it isn't derry's most favored whore", henry was the first to indulge in the act.

he was followed by vic, or – as he liked to refer to him as his 'right-man', "hey, hank. why haven't we ever tried to mess with her before?"

you tried to back up slowly, but your back hit against another frame. when you looked up your eyes met with a pair of green ones, followed by an unsettling smile.

it seemed like no one noticed what was happening – or in better words, no one gave a shit about what was happening.

"dont worry, [name], we're not gonna kill you, jeez," belch revealed.

that made henry groan and turn his head towards his friend. "shut up."

patrick, still behind you, held onto your shoulders, which was very easy due to his height. "or we will, you will find out soon."

"both of you shut up," henry silenced them before it could escalate to something else. "so, how about you come with us for a ride? ya'know, get some air n' stuff."

"you mean like skipping school?", you asked.

"why? are you scared? I'm sure your reputation is as shitty as it can get. can't get any worse than that. even ours is better."

you shrugged, and just decided to follow them. just as you sat at your seat – between vic and patrick, you couldn't make out the read ahead of you, as they were driving recklessly. where you were, you hadn't the slightest clue.

they were laughing and howling, sometimes shouting at the drives passing by.

you? well, you were scared shitless. you clung onto your seat belt, and holding back the urge to start shrieking.

after a while you got used to it and had to admit deep down it was kinda fun.

when you stopped, you realized you were at a junkyard. they prepared a fire when the sun began to set down and opened some bottles of beer.

as you all circled around the fire you began to talk about whatever. you also found yourself to... tolerate them. or, better yet, even enjoy their company.

before you knew it, little by little you hang more and more with them, slowly becoming one of them. it was the first time you were a part of something. they felt like home and you could trust them, despite the hardships and more extreme emotional outbursts.

your reputation got even worse but you didn't care. you had found your people.

Activities

other than hanging out in the junkyard, you guys do other stuff (of course).

it's like you all live together, while you also don't. frequent sleepovers, meet-ups on each other houses take place, ect.

vic once convinced you all to go camping a few towns away. despite being the one who recommended the idea, he ended up despicing it. on the other hand, patrick who hated the idea ended up having the most fun. scaring vic by hiding bugs in his tent and pretending he was hearing bears or wolves. belch had enough and kept demanding they'd stop fighting, while you kept laughing at vic's reactions everytime. you never went camping again.

every morning belch picks everyone in order, first henry, then patrick, then you, and lastly – the sleeping queen himself: vic.

then, you make a stop at the local diner, everyone choosing their own specific order that the waitress had already memorized.

unless vic had a hangover from the party the day before, he wouldn't stop complaining about who-knows-what.

sometimes, when you were really bored, you'd go out of town in search of abandoned places, owning them for a while until someone else found them and ruined them almost immediately.

it was expected and common sense you'd show up at ever party. then you all would split for a while but meet up in order to leave. belch was in priority not to drink or get high until anyone else got a license. that's what you all agreed on but that possiblility seemed unlikely.

at school you avoided bullying anyone, but giving up on trying to stop them from terrosizing another kid since it was the only thing they ignored you on. the only time you fought back was to defend yourself. not that you needed to, but because you wanted them to know that you weren't as incompetent as you seemed.

when you had the change you'd shoot empty beer bottles with henry's dad's gun.

Henry Bowers

you and henry would share your deep wounds together. him about his alcoholic and insane old man, and you about your hard time fitting in, both in family and friends.

you would joke around, but to an extent. if you said the wrong thing he'd refuse to speak to you for days, weeks or maybe even months – depending how much it affected him. if he was too stubborn, vic would have to somehow find a way to talk him out of his bitchy attitude.

despite him trying to seem hard-shelled, deep down he was very sensitive. he knew you knew that, and he hated it. it was the only thing he hated about you except the fact that tend to be pushy sometimes.

he had never cried in front the guys, but one day he couldn't hold back when he was only with you. it happened only once, but he still feels humiliated about it and hopes you'd never bring it up. he made you swore to never tell anyone.

butch seemed to like you for a reason, only approving of you from the gang. he hated the rest. when you find yourself at their house, he'd warmly greet you.

at first he and patrick made a lot of sexist joke about you. later when he noticed you went silent you, he started using them less, only saying them once or twice.

always offers you cigarettes, and makes sure to buy your favorites.

sometimes (when he's not in a shitty mood) he pays for your food when you go at the diner without saying a word or giving you the chance to convince him otherwise.

all good things considered, let's be honest here cuz we all know he has more negative that good qualities.

for example; gets jealous super easily and gets mad at you for it, making you apologize for something that isn't your fault.

NEVER admits he's wrong. ever.

when you have a different opinion he tells you to shut up or straight up threatens you.

needs a lot of attention, while also can't have on his tail all the time, making him indecisive and confusing.

sometimes doesn't realize you need help and leaves you deal with your problems alone while you clearly do need some sort of hand.

still, you always have a way to be together again, unable to keep any distance between you both. on weekends you usually take the bus to his house, helping him with the choses around the farm.

Vic Criss

you and vic already knew each other from middle school. you were in the same class and he used to help you with homework.

then, when kids started growing up through that phase everybody did about that sort of rivalry against girls and boys. because of that, your 'friendship' fell apart.

you weren't really friends back then but you could've been.

he never admitted it but he always stared at you from away, wishing you would somehow start talking to each other again.

he was the one who convinced henry to approach you that day. the idea popped into his mind just as those rumors started going around.

he was glad henry agreed. even though he always did, he was anxious of saying no. later, he lied to you, saying it was henry's idea instead and that first interaction you had with him was henry's way of being kind (despite calling you a 'whore').

you and vic were close, in a different way you were with the others. he understood you better and he was very good at telling advice. he was also fun gossiping with. definitely the best when having a sleepover. the others found him annoying or bitchy about it, but with you he was himself.

he also was kinda subtle about his true personality, not showing his true small but intresting quirks only you knew.

speaking of gossiping, almost every weekend he crashed at your place, the excuse being his siblings giving him a headache, while his mom being 'a pain in the ass'.

everytime he had a problem with the others you would be the first to know. he was still henry's 'right-man', but sometimes henry was, well... henry.

at parties he'd get wasted and you'd be 100% sure he'd be found in the bathroom pucking his guts out.

you guys are so close he would be showering while you were doing your business at the toilet, gossiping about everything single detail.

still sometimes helps you with school after some persuation, but keeps reminding you that 'he is not your tutor'.

loves braiding your hair when you're hanging out, especially during class when it's something super boring (even for him).

Patrick Hockstetter

you were honestly pretty scared of patrick at first, and most definitely the only one from the gang who gave you the creepes.

the alligations weren't few, to say the least, and at first you kept your distance from him.

he also didn't try to make a move on you, which you found stange, yet grateful. maybe henry threatened him or something. either way you were considerably on good terms with patrick.

one day at school, while you were waiting for the other three to come at your usual spot during break, he offered you a cigarette. you received it with gratitude, since it was rare for an offer coming from patrick. he even stricked up a conversation, which was... maybe a bit thought provoking.

then he smirked – that one charismatic he wore when you would stop being able to read his mind. he was like a puzzle, but most pieces were missing or switched with incorrect ones. "are the rumors true?", he asked, closing his zippo with a 'click' after he light your cigarette.

"i dont think that you care if they're true or not," you answered back, the tobacco filling your lungs with nicotine.

clouds of smoke escaped his nostrils with each chuckle. "maybe."

on your ride home Black Sun Morning by Screaming Trees was playing from the radio and you found yourself singing alongside patrick. he rose his brows, "you know 'em?"

"duh, of course."

the next day on the ride to school, instead of gossiping with vic you ended up having a deep conversation with patrick about music. you never imagined that you'd be having a conversation about art with him of all people.

since then, you hit it off well. he stopped using sexist comments as well, and even attempted physical contact at the diner, brushing his fingers against your hair. when he realized you let him or try to stop him, he smiled to himself.

in the end you were usually seen together, you sitting on his lap during breaks or at the gym stands, in the car or diner. he would wrap his arms around your waist and rest his head on your shoulder. it was making the others sick.

sometimes you attempted to help him with homework, but he only agreed so you could just hangout. he wasn't really interested in attending college. the thing he was good at was certainly playing the guitar. both bass and lead guitar. vic jokes about him making a band but it something told you he didn't view it as a light joke.

one day he invited you to his house to show you his vinyls and discs. that's when you met his mother and was pretty surprised to find out she was vietnamese. he made sure to never speak vietnamese around you or the others.

when meeting you he became less... interested at the fridge at the junkyard, viewing it less and less. maybe therapy was starting to work out? even for a tiny bit.

extremely protective of you, especially at parties. makes sure to keep an eye out even though you wouldn't know it.

Belch Huggins

belch was the most chill and the most independent one of the gang. aways making sure everything was in check and going smoothly. it was no surprise he was super welcome to you and tried to make you at ease the first few weeks, asking you if you were okay or needed a ride home.

is a gentleman, of course. doesn't tolerance any disrespect towards you, no matter how small it may seem to you.

offeres to pay for you when going out, no matter how many times you don't let him.

one time you both got so drunk you couldn't stop laughing; your bellys hurting and your eyes filled with tears while your faces were bright red. it made henry mad (as usual) but it's a memory you'd never forget. you had no way to get back home, though.

on fridays you watch him play basketball, sitting at the stands, and smoking and encouraging him. sometimes vic or patrick came too, but it was very rarely.

he offers you the ball but you immediately decline, being reminded of the day the ball hit you in the face after you missed your shot.

you requested him to teach you how to drive, which was a bad idea honestly. at first you didn't understand his instructions at all, but when he asked you if you had any questions you lied saying 'no'. after that instead of stepping on going forward you accidentally went backwards, almost crashing his beloved trams-am that he named 'daisy'. then you turned the wheel too far, almost falling at a ditch before he saved you two.

swore that you'd never get a license in your life and forbid you anywhere near the wheel, not even the passengers seat.

his dad owes a workshop, fixing cars. he helped too, supporting him in any way he could. you also helped him here and there while he taught you the basics and answered any questions you had.

he promised that he'd let you fix a car entirely on your own without his help. he said he'd also let you keep it for free.

you have a drawer contained only of belch's clothes. at first you'd ask him to try his sweatshirts on. then you'd complain you were cold and he'd sigh, saying you could give it back another day. but you never did.

you loved it when he gave you biggyback rides. his, especially. he could never refuse, despise how tired he was.

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wooahaes · 26 days

Text

a spark of realization

pairing: non-idol!hoshi x gn!reader

prompt: soulmate au series. 13/13

word count: 5.0k~

warnings: some food mentions. some angst. coworkers au. platonic love between soonyoung and his friends <3 some alcohol mentions (all regarding soonyoung drinking, no real mentions of reader actually drinking). mentions of static shocks throughout.

daisy’s notes: soonyoung looks at all of his friends and goes 'i love u all so much' and im like god same me when i look at my friends

summary: Unlike Jihoon and every other friend that swore they didn’t have one, Soonyoung knows he doesn’t have a soulmate. He’s tried plenty of the subtle soulmate things. He doesn’t feel anyone’s pain or emotions, he doesn’t taste anything weird, and he’s dyed his hair enough times to know that he most likely doesn’t have someone out there. Yet the static that makes his hair stand on end sometimes just causes him to think that maybe there’s something else to expect…

Kwon Soonyoung was positive about one thing in his life: he did not have a soulmate. Never showed any signs when he was ten onward, and he never would. Sure, it hurt to hear when he was ten—he was ten and stuck into this category of “without” regardless of how he felt about having a soulmate, that was sure to make anyone upset—but he’d figured things out for himself while growing up. Some people hated their soulmates. Other people loved them, sure, like… every single one of his friends now, but that was beside the point. Soonyoung had decided several things for himself.

One: he didn’t need a soulmate to be happy and fulfilled. Plenty of people didn’t end up with their soulmates. Plenty of people didn’t have a romantic relationship with their soulmates, but stayed in touch. Some people didn’t even want their soulmates at all, either. Therefore: no one needed a soulmate to be a complete person. He was just fine on his own. (This was something his parents taught him from an early age.)

Two: Soonyoung did have soulmates, actually. Twelve of them. His twelve closest friends were his soulmates, platonically, and they’d all chosen each other in life. But if he had to pick one, then it was easily Jihoon. The two had known each other the longest now, and Soonyoung had told him one night that if neither of them had soulmates, then they were platonic soulmates. And even after Jihoon found his soulmate, Soonyoung still believed in it. The two of them just fit together in a way that was right.

“Really?” Jihoon had been half-asleep on the couch that night, tired from both work work and music work. He and Joshua had to re-record the song they’d been working on… again. Soonyoung could admire how dedicated Jihoon was to having a perfect product, though. “That’s sappy.”

Soonyoung had giggled, admittedly very much not sober. “No, no, I mean it! We’re soulmates, I think.” Another burst of giggles as he reached toward Jihoon’s hand. “I know you have one now, but…”

Jihoon gently patted his cheek. “No, you’re right. We’re soulmates, too.” He shut his eyes, about to nod off again. “Soonyoung…” He yawned, turning onto his side. His dark eyes found Soonyoung’s a moment later, only barely open. “I don’t want to give you false hope, but… Have you ever looked into it?”

Soonyoung leaned against him. Of course he had. Hadn’t most people who did, deep down, want a soulmate? Well, maybe except Vernon. Vernon did his own thing most of the time. “I don’t wanna.”

“You don’t have to,” Jihoon said, understanding as always. “But…”

“Hm?”

“It’s hard to live in a world where I would have one and you wouldn’t.” Jihoon’s voice was heavy with sleep, and his eyelids fluttered shut again a moment later. “That’s all.”

“Why not?” Soonyoung stifled a yawn. “You’re cool. You make music. Plenty of people would love that. You can write your soulmate love songs now.”

It earned a quiet chuckle from Jihoon. “Just…” He trailed off. “I was okay with not having one because love is… different. Like what Wonwoo says about it. It’s a choice and something you make. But you…”

Soonyoung blinked curiously at him. He…?

“Anyone would love you,” he mumbled, clearly beginning to doze off now. “I just don’t understand how it could be me and not you.”

Soonyoung had decided to love Jihoon extra from that point on. Jihoon’s soulmate did the same, and everyone else truly adored Jihoon, but Soonyoung understood. Jihoon never saw himself as the leading man in any situation. He wasn’t sure if that extended to believing he wasn’t anyone’s first choice (he was always Soonyoung’s, if that meant anything), but Soonyoung didn’t need to know. He just knew that he would always hype up Jihoon as much as he could. Everyone did, to be fair, but Soonyoung was happy to be a louder voice among the crowd. He would always be there to stream his songs when they were released and share them on every account he had, even if that sometimes required Seungcheol or Wonwoo helping him not break the link in the process.

But he’d never let go of that thought. How could it be me and not you? As if Jihoon deserved a soulmate less than Soonyoung did. Soonyoung had his moments of yearning, the same way that Seokmin often did, but he wouldn’t trade places with any of his friends. Their soulmates meant something to them. Soonyoung had seen the way Seungkwan doted on his soulmate day in and day out, and he’d quietly apologized to him once for the times he’d made inappropriate jokes.

“What, those?” Seungkwan hadn’t seemed bothered in the slightest. “You were trying to make light of things so I wouldn’t worry.” He crossed his arms. “They hurt in those moments, but I can’t blame you for trying.”

How did Soonyoung get so lucky? Was this what the universe granted him in exchange for lacking a soulmate…? He wasn’t sure, but he wouldn’t trade any of his friends for a soulmate. He’d happily make do with the twelve he’d forged any day.

Okay, so maybe Soonyoung was getting in his head a little. Seokmin had just spent a little over two weeks in a time loop because, surprise, he also had a soulmate. Which sent Soonyoung down a small spiral. According to some study out there that still needed more information to be more valid or whatever, a good portion of people who were told they didn’t have soulmates when they were ten were people who didn’t have obvious signs. Time loops, hair colors matching, lost items, sparks flying, colored footprints leading to the other person… All things that people simply wouldn’t have seen at age ten.

So maybe Soonyoung started to dye his hair after Jihoon found his soulmate. It wasn’t abnormal, Soonyoung did like to play with his hair. It’d been a while since he’d gone bleach blonde. And maybe his soulmate didn’t care and that was why he stayed bleach blonde until his roots started to show. And maybe his soulmate didn’t care that their hair was cherry red not long after that…

And, maybe, Soonyoung was acutely aware of the date after Seokmin broke his loop. Each day followed one another as they always did, but Soonyoung swore a Tuesday felt just like a Monday once.

And maybe, just maybe, Soonyoung lost a bracelet with his name on it. Joshua made him another one, no question, but he hadn’t found anything that didn’t belong to him (or Jihoon) in his living space. Everything was in its proper spot, just as it was supposed to be. Nothing new.

No footprints stood out to him, and he hadn’t bumped into anyone lately that made him feel those mystical sparks that Jun once told him about.

Kwon Soonyoung did not need a soulmate to be happy… So why did he want one so badly?

“I don’t need one,” was what he blubbered to Seungcheol one night, a week after Seokmin broke his time loop. “I don’t. I shouldn’t act like I need one to be happy because I am happy. I’ve been happy before, so—”

“It’s okay.” Seungcheol had held him as he cried. “Soonyoung, it’s normal for people to want them just as much as it’s normal for people to not. If you want a soulmate, it’s okay.”

How was he supposed to say that now it was starting to hurt? That all twelve of the soulmates he chose in life had their own soulmates, even the ones who were convinced they didn’t?

“Work is still bad,” Soonyoung said suddenly, still crying into Seungcheol’s shoulder. The words just seemed to dribble from his mouth now, no true thoughts behind them. “Two of the new hires took off because they found out they were soulmates and—and they wanted to get busy living life while they could. And now all of us are staying every night because we have to make up their work, and—”

He just kept babbling, sobbing as everything seemed to spill out of him. Seungcheol just held him, rubbing circles into his back to soothe him. Soon enough, all the words had dried up, and Soonyoung was just left, breathing quietly as he came back down. His head felt foggier than before. Lighter, though.

“You’ll be okay,” Seungcheol promised him when Soonyoung finally moved away to wipe his face. “I’ll buy you dinner when you work next, okay?”

“I feel guilty,” Soonyoung said a moment later. With less thoughts to weigh him down, his feelings seemed to become more obvious.

Seungcheol had chuckled. “You shouldn’t. I’m offering—”

“Not that.” Soonyoung let out a long sigh, tugging his sleeves down over his hands for a moment. When did he start feeling so cold? “I… I love all of you. You’re all some of my best friends. I meant it when I said I consider you all soulmates. I feel like I should be happy that we all met in this life, but…”

“We can’t fill that void,” Seungcheol said. He turned to face Soonyoung fully, arm draped over the back of the couch. “Soonyoung. I love you, but you aren’t my soulmate. There’s things I want to do with them now that I know them that I wouldn’t want to do with anyone else. I can’t call it love because I haven’t known them long enough, but… You do understand, right?”

Of course he understood. Soonyoung had dated before, after all. “I know, but—”

“None of us want you to feel left out,” he said. “If you want to date, then you should try dating again when things have calmed down.” He paused, “Or now, but I think the stress from work is getting to you too much.” Again, Seungcheol paused, mulling over his thoughts as though he needed to get them right the first time he spoke them aloud. “Soonyoung. Do you remember what you told all of us when you said we were your soulmates?”

Soonyoung had been… a little drunk that night. Most of them were. But Soonyoung had seen the videos that were taken by his friends of his drunken rambling, and he’d said a lot. “Which part?”

“The universe picked soulmates for a lot of us,” Seungcheol said, “but we still have to choose them. And you decided you would choose us.”

It was the easiest decision Soonyoung had ever made, and one that admittedly made him and a few others cry. He’d been right, though, hadn’t he? A soulmate was a person that the universe felt was perfect for you, but plenty of soulmates didn’t last. It was almost always the people who believed that just being soulmates was enough to have a lasting relationship. Soonyoung had seen people who finally reached their breaking point and ended things, always crying later because that was their soulmate. Almost always, their stories were similar to the others: they weren’t trying. It was supposed to come naturally to them. But a soulmate wasn’t a guarantee for love. All relationships, platonic or romantic or familial, needed work put into them. That was why Soonyoung knew that a soulmate represented a choice. One that the universe made for a person, but a choice that a person had to keep choosing if they wanted to make things work. That was how love worked, after all. Soonyoung had been in love before, and he had chosen that person until they couldn’t choose each other anymore.

And he knew that it went the same for those with soulmates. Seungkwan had been with his soulmate for over a year now, and plenty of people could count the petty disagreements the two had had. They always came back together after they cooled off, talking things out like adults (sometimes with a little intervention from Chan or Vernon, but those moments were rare). Minghao and his soulmate had an actual argument not too long ago, but they’d bounced back and been stronger than before for it. Even Jeonghan, who had loved his soulmate almost his entire life, had an unfortunate spat that lasted a few days before he reached out to them and asked to reconcile. Love was a choice as much as it was a feeling. It was what brought them all back together again. A soulmate wasn’t the end-all be-all of love, but Soonyoung had realized why they all fit so well together. They all shared some sort of experience in some way, whether it be a string to connect them or losing objects. It was something to bond over, to open up the doors to choosing one another once that decision was clear.

“Someone is going to choose you some day,” Seungcheol said, completely serious. “And they’ll be lucky if you choose them, too.”

Soonyoung wiped at his eyes with his sleeve again, the fabric scratchy against his skin. Minghao would be chastising him now for it, pulling tissues out of his pocket or his bag depending on where he’d decided to keep them that day. That, too, was Minghao choosing to love his friend. “I love you,” he said softly. Thank you for choosing to be in my life. He wasn’t sure where he’d be without him.

Seungcheol chuckled, warm as ever. “I love you, too,” he said back, always as though it were the easiest thing in the world. Maybe, for Seungcheol, it was.

A week later, work was a little kinder to him. His coworkers gossiped about some new hires coming into the company, and Soonyoung, truly, couldn’t care less. As long as they did their jobs and didn’t run off immediately to see the world or whatever those two were doing, he was happy. He’d given a polite nod to the new hires as they were introduced, and ignored the way the hairs on the back of his hand were standing on end. He’d charged himself with too much static upon coming in, dragging his feet as he tried to subtly push his sock back up after it had rolled down. He’d managed to discharge the static eventually, although the slight zap from the metal he touched had made him hiss in pain. It felt like a little too much, but what did he know? He had other things to worry about, like the backlog of work that still stood out to him. It’d take a few days for things to calm down for good. And, sure, the polite thing to do would be to get drinks with his coworkers… But no one was inviting anyone anywhere. Not when there was too much work during the day and everyone was exhausted by the time they all clocked out.

“So? What do you think?” One of his coworkers had whispered to another after the new hires (a pair of people around Soonyoung’s age) had left ahead of them, having packed up quickly to catch their buses home.

Soonyoung packed up a little slower. Maybe it was wrong to listen in, but…

“Hm…” The woman hummed to herself for a moment, shifting her weight from leg to leg. “I’m not sure yet. Sungyoon seems to work hard, but the other person…” She frowned, crossing her arms as she grew still. “They’re very quiet. Like…”

Soonyoung knew that she had just glanced at him. He’d always been the quiet one at work, the polite one who worked hard. That’s what you were like, from what he understood, too. You came in, you put yourself to work, and then politely excused yourself when you needed to run to get to your bus. Sungyoon had gone with you, not keeping it secret from anyone that the two of you were at least friends. Speaking of…

“Do you think they’re dating?” She whispered to the other.

Soonyoung hoped you weren’t. You were… actually kinda cute? Plus he admired your work ethic a lot, even on your first day. Maybe when things calmed down, he could ask you out to coffee or something.

“I didn’t see any marks,” the other man said, not bothering to lower his voice any further. “They could be soulmates. They clearly have a history…”

Soonyoung packed his bag and took off. He’d had enough of this. The journey home was uneventful, but Jihoon had picked up on how disgruntled Soonyoung was from the moment he walked in the door. Halfway through his vent session, Jihoon had looked at him.

“Why are you jealous? You just met them.”

Jealous? Soonyoung was not jealous of anyone. He choked on his own words, unsure of what he could say that was actually convincing. If he denied it, then Jihoon would only believe that he was bullshitting him to try and save face. Yes, you were cute in Soonyoung’s eyes, but he’d only just met you! He’d be a weirdo if he was jealous this quickly! And you wouldn’t want anything to do with him if he was weird.

“I’m not jealous,” Soonyoung said once he was sure he could say it casually. “I just find it weird that my coworkers care so much. They’re doing a good job.” He paused for a second, “both of them are! Sungyoon is very nice.”

Jihoon was not convinced. Nothing could convince him now, then. “Mhm.” He shrugged. “Nothing wrong with being a little jealous if they’re clearly close. Just don’t let it bother you.”

“I’m not!” Soonyoung felt his face heating up. He wasn’t. He wasn’t bothered in the slightest. It was more-so his coworkers being weird about it. It was weird to speculate, wasn’t it? If you had a soulmate, then good for you. If you didn’t, then…

Then maybe Soonyoung had a shot.

“A soulmate?” You had looked up, the same man who’d speculated about you and Sungyoon being soulmates having shoved his nose into your business. You blinked, unsure of where this topic had even come from. “No, I don’t have one. I don’t think I do, at least. Is this a part of company business? I told H.R. after I was hired that I don’t have any signs that would prevent me from working, but I didn’t know everyone needed to know this.”

Soonyoung smiled to himself. Yeah, you tell him. It was your business anyway.

“But what about you and Sungyoon—”

“College friends.” You smiled politely. “We live close to one another, too. I’m not seeing anyone now. Is that all?”

Sungyoon sat at his desk, watching you with this amused twinkle in his eyes. Sungyoon had the same kind of admiration for you that Soonyoung had for his friends, he was positive. He watched the way his coworker slinked off after a moment, apologizing for prying into your personal life as you returned to work. Soonyoung reached down to pull something from a desk drawer, only to feel a familiar zap the moment he did. He’d winced in pain, but it did nothing to dampen his mood. When Soonyoung relayed later the information to his friends at dinner that night, Wonwoo had watched him the entire time, all too aware of how thrilled Soonyoung seemed to be about the whole ordeal.

“Why do you seem so happy?”

Was he happy? He was, kind of. Without being disrespectful, you’d rebuffed the guy and kept most of your privacy in doing so. There were no long drawn out college stories about some adventure you and Sungyoon had while in college, no emotional moments of spilling about how you resented the fact you didn’t have a soulmate. Hell, Soonyoung had no idea how you felt about it. Were you indifferent like him? Did you have a similar situation to him, too, where you had chosen your own soulmates out of your friends?

“They were being disrespected,” Soonyoung had settled on saying. “I’m glad they handled the situation well—”

“He likes them and wants to ask them out,” Jihoon said after taking a sip of his water. “So he’s glad they’re single.”

Soonyoung shoved Jihoon slightly. “That’s not it at all!”

Jun chuckled from his seat, watching the exchange. “There’s nothing wrong with liking them, you know.”

“There isn’t, but I don’t like them like that. I barely know them. We’ve barely even talked.” Soonyoung rolled his eyes. “How can I like someone I don’t know yet?”

Wonwoo shrugged. “I liked my soulmate before I really knew them. They seemed interesting.”

“That’s different!”

“Is it?” Jun shrugged. “I haven’t known my soulmate for long, but I still liked them before we started talking. They seemed nice. You can have a good opinion of someone without knowing them intimately—”

“That’s not the point,” Soonyoung said. “You’re all trying to turn this into something it’s not. I just… I dunno. When I see them, I want to know them more. It’s like they just keep pulling my attention toward them.” He paused, chopsticks in hand as he looked up. “They keep looking at me, actually. It’s kinda funny. I think they might be into me, actually.”

Suddenly, all three of his friends exchanged a look. Soonyoung furrowed his brows. “What?”

And none of them would tell him their thoughts. When he pushed further later as they were leaving the restaurant, Jihoon just waved him off.

“You’ll figure it out.”

“Shit!”

Soonyoung looked up at the sound of your voice, soft enough that it didn’t catch everyone’s attention. Sungyoon withheld a chuckle as you glared at him a moment later, and Soonyoung couldn’t help but keep his eyes on the pair of you. You’d wrung out your hand, reaching for your desk drawer as you started to search through it for a highlighter. Soonyoung liked the fact that you always highlighted things in pretty colors—bright green so far, but he overheard you telling another coworker, Seungmin, that you liked to switch out colors every so often. It kept things fresh, and Soonyoung found that cute. Almost as cute as the novelty erasers that you kept on your desk to decorate it, never using them since you always used pens (save for the pencil you kept exclusively for the sticky notes you attached to your computer monitor).

“It’s not funny,” you had hissed back at him. “This place has a bad static problem… Is the air dry to you? I think dry air makes static build-up likelier.”

“It’s just you.” Sungyoon watched you curiously, glancing over to see that Soonyoung had started watching, too.

Soonyoung watched the way he slowly reached for a pad of sticky notes, jotting something out. Then he reached forward, attaching it to the top of your monitor. You swatted his hand away, eyes flickering over to see Soonyoung just as he turned his attention back to his own work. Yet the moment he was sure you were looking away, Soonyoung glanced over to see you pulling the sticky note off the monitor. How had he avoided you this long…? Something about getting too close to you made his chest all fluttery. Had he really started crushing on you so easily? Then again, you kinda did make it easy. You were cute in your own ways, and it made it hard to focus most days. Now all he could think about was what Sungyoon had written to you.

He’d stretched himself over Vernon’s couch that night, playing with a little feather toy that his soulmate’s cat (Nutmeg, apparently) seemed to love. She pounced at it again, and Soonyoung had, yet again, been rambling about his work adventures.

Vernon plucked another fry from Soonyoung’s leftovers. “Dude. Kinda sounds like there’s something there.”

“I don’t know,” Soonyoung said. “Maybe I’m being silly. I should ask them out sometime, but they’re still new. It feels weird to do it so soon.” He paused, watching as Vernon slowly began to reach for another fry. “If you’re hungry, then eat. I’m fine.”

With permission, Vernon immediately pulled over the rest of the leftover fries. “I mean it, dude. Why wait? You like them, they seem to like you, just go for it.”

… Maybe he would.

But probably not today. Soonyoung had woken up late which, thankfully, wasn’t too bad considering he didn’t live too far from work. Jihoon had been in the kitchen, sliding over a plate of toast when Soonyoung booked it from the room.

“You have that meeting—”

“I know!” Soonyoung grabbed two slices. He’d shove them into his mouth on the run over. “I know—I set an alarm!”

Jihoon looked up, already annoyed, “I know. It woke me up.”

He’d make it up to him later. He yelled back a casual “love you!” to Jihoon, who only groaned in response, and booked it to the stairs. No elevator today: the complex’s elevator sucked most days, and Soonyoung always reserved it for when he was coming home rather than heading to work. He’d pulled on the wrong pair of shoes considering he had a meeting today. He needed to look nice, and he did, mostly. These were the ones that were a little too broken in, having lost traction against the office floors, and they’d lost their shine a bit. Maybe no one would notice? Hopefully no one would notice. He didn’t need anyone making a comment… or you to think less of him. Were you the kind of person who cared about that kind of thing? He hoped not. As long as you were presentable, Soonyoung wouldn’t think any differently of you.

He burst through the front doors of the building, yelling out to where you and Sungyoon had just boarded the elevators. He saw the way the two of you looked surprised, eyes wide and brows raised as Soonyoung booked it across the lobby while no one else seemed to think much of it. It was far from the first time this had happened, to be fair: it happened back when he was new, and it kept happening every so often since. Soonyoung, unfortunately for everyone else, was the kind of person who could be loud when he needed to be. Which was good for him, because Sungyoon had taken pity on him and held the elevator doors for him. Soonyoung’s hair was standing on end now. Fuck, when did the building have such a bad problem with dry air?

Shit, fuck, the floors were against him today. In the split few seconds he had, he’d tried to yell for you to move aside so he could crash against the elevator walls, yet his brain seemed to have turned to pudding. He felt this subtle pull forward, which he once thought was gravity as he nearly tripped over the elevator threshold and into you.

Only for sparks to fly. Literally fly. Sungyoon had crumpled to the floor in pain, howling about ‘what the fuck was that?!’ while Soonyoung only felt this warmth wash over him. You’d been shoved against the elevator wall and were clutching the back of your head (shit, fuck, he’d check on you once his brain caught up to him). Wait.

Wait. Sparks flew.

You…?

“Dude, what the fuck?” You’d pushed him away, hand still clutching the back of your head.

Immediately, his brain had finally started fully functioning again. “Shit!” He stepped forward, trying to get a closer look at the back of your skull. No bleeding or visible bruising, but what did he know? “Are you okay? Did you get hurt? I’m sorry, I tried to stop, but—”

“What the fuck was that?!” Sungyoon was still on the elevator floor. The doors slid shut after a moment.

Quietly, Soonyoung hit the button for the correct floor, just to get things moving. “I… I, uh…”

You stared at him, slowly connecting the dots. “Oh.”

“Did… Did it hurt you?” Soonyoung shyly asked, only to realize he’d been vague. “The sparks.”

You shook your head. “No. But—” You looked at Sungyoon. “Sungyoon, are you okay?”

“I’ll live,” he pulled himself back up. “Of course he’s your soulmate. No wonder you two wouldn’t stop staring at each other…”

Soonyoung had felt a pull toward you, but… He always thought that was infatuation fueling that feeling. There were so many things he’d already wanted to ask you, and yet it felt… weird to say them with Sungyoon there. Were you like him? Had you given up on soulmates even though you wanted one? Or did you not care that Soonyoung was your soulmate? Would you have still liked him if he wasn’t…? He felt like he would have liked you either way, but he would never know for sure now. Then again, maybe he could be okay with not having that answer. If he got to know you better, then he could be happy. Neither of you spoke for the ride up, and he could see Sungyoon debating stopping this elevator ride early to give the two of you space.

Thankfully, he didn’t. But he did book it off the elevator once the doors opened, leaving the two of you two step off together.

“So…” You were a little quieter than normal, never quite looking at Soonyoung for too long. “We’re soulmates.”

He nodded. “Is that okay?”

That earned your attention faster than anything else. “Of course that’s okay. Why wouldn’t that be okay?”

“I just thought that…” You didn’t seem happy. Then again, he barely knew you.

You shook your head. “Just because I’m used to not having a soulmate doesn’t mean I’m not happy it’s you. I already thought you were cute, so…”

Soonyoung shyly smiled at you, hand brushing against your own. It was enough to get you to stop and face him. “I know we have a meeting soon, but… There’s a little place across the street we could go for lunch. It’ll be my treat, if you want—”

“I’d love to,” you smiled. “I’ll look forward to it, soulmate.”

Soonyoung watched you walk ahead of him, smiling to yourself. Suddenly, he felt a new sense of confidence wash over him as he watched you go. He’d only known you for so long, but something told him that choosing you was going to be the easiest decision he’d ever made.

(And when he told Jihoon that night, he’d called Jun and Wonwoo immediately to send him the money he’d just won for betting that Soonyoung would figure it out sooner rather than later.)

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny @bewoyewo

#wooahaes.fic #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #kwon soonyoung x reader #kwon soonyoung x you #hoshi x reader #hoshi x you

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rebelspykatie · 1 year

Text

It’s funny that anyone would think that Steve and Robin aren’t platonic soulmates when they’re canonically attached at the hip.

Steve has a whole conversation with Robin that’s loaded with inside jokes as he literally ignores his date at the basketball game.

They follow each other around the video store talking about their love lives where they make reference to stealing each others jokes, wishing they could combine into one person with both of their skill sets, and regularly picking movies to watch while they work (and knowing their interests in movie genres).

Steve wakes up early to pick Robin up for school before he has to go to work, even though there’s several hours between that and when they open. He also doesn’t know that Robin can’t drive, so he’s obviously just been chauffeuring her around no questions asked. He was already doing this at the end of season 3 for their job interview.

This all started in season 3, but was solidified in that final scene where they’re going after jobs together, spouting off to potential employers about their best qualities to land the job. Robin has clearly had time to warm up to Steve and jokes with him about his resume and with Keith about Steve’s terrible taste in movies, but excellent taste in women.

During that drive to school in season 4, they talk about both of their love lives, in which they reference an off screen conversation where Robin gave Steve advice to just be himself and girls would like him more, the same advice he’s giving Robin for wooing Vickie.

They openly talk about Vickie throughout season 4, so clearly there’s no shyness or residual awkwardness from the coming out or Steve’s former crush on her. In fact, it appears to have made them even closer. See: the boobies conversation in episode one.

They’re close enough that Dustin has obviously mocked Steve for not dating Robin repeatedly after the events of Starcourt. They have that platonic with a capital P speech down pat. They joke twice about being in charge of the kids together, once when Dustin and Max barge in to search for Eddie and they joke about taking turns strangling the little idiots and then again when they get on the boat about bedtime’s at 9 kiddos.

Both joke and poke fun at each other. Robin makes fun of Steve’s protective streak with the whole ‘unless you think us ladies need you to protect us’ comment. Steve makes fun of Robin snooping in Nancy’s room and jokes about her not giving off an academic scholar vibe. Steve jokes about wanting to punch her in the face when she won’t stop rambling about rabies. Steve teases her about her muppet joke working because he’s the one who made it up. Robin’s previously teased him about how many children he’s friends with, not knowing he’s protecting them from supernatural horrors.

By the end of season 4, we find out that they both had issues learning to walk. They both think their romantic interests are doomed. They give each other the same advice.

They always gravitate towards each other, especially when they’re in danger, always in the same group. Robin clutching at Steve and making sure he’s okay after Eddie held the bottle to his throat. Robin jumping in directly after Nancy when Steve got sucked into the watergate. Robin moving behind Steve in the upside down when the bats were coming at them because she knew he’d protect them (actually everyone goes to stand behind him). Robin crying out for Steve first when the vines snatch her. Steve finding Robin to grab the supplies for the Molotovs and then chasing after her when Vickie kisses that boy.

Any time we see people break off into groups, they’re together. Paired up to discuss end of the world strategies and their unrequited love lives. Team search for Eddie. Team keep Eddie safe and hidden. Team destroy Vecna. Always the same team.

Steve encouraging Robin, even after the incident with Vickie in the store because he doesn’t want them to give up on love. Him being so happy to see her flirting and chatting with Vickie at the school. Robin comforting him when Nancy runs into Jonathan’s arms.

If you’re watching all of that, I don’t see how you could come away with anything less than them being platonic soulmates. They’re practically finishing each others sentences while they bounce one brain cell back and forth between them.

#stranger things #steve harrington #robin buckley #platonic soulmates #do I ever shut up?#no thanks for asking #katie writes

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hepburnswan · 9 months

Text

I did it.

you are kenough

🌸 pt 2 🌸

🌸 pt 3 🌸

pairing: ken x reader

summary: ken does some self reflecting after the patriarchy incident and personally apologizes to all the barbies

warnings: little fluff, little angst, reader is a barbie, talk ab gender equality?? can be read as platonic or romantic ig 🤷‍♀️

word count: 1.3k

authors note: ok this is kind of goofy but i thought ken needs to repent after what he did and also why not throw a bit of fluff in 🤗 also this is my first fic ever dont hate on me 😭

special shoutout to my bsf june for being both my cheerleader and my proofreader ‼️

It had only been a couple of days since Barbieland had been restored to its rightful state. The barbies were back in charge, no longer evicted from their homes, and things were starting to get back to normal. Not only that - but changes were being made. Though barbies continued to be the leaders of Barbieland, the Kens’ message was heard loud and clear - they no longer wanted to be accessories to barbies. And that was fair. But there still was some understandable tension between the two groups. After all, it’s not every day you get kicked out of your own house and treated like a servant.

For those couple of days, you had kept to yourself, and that was okay - though you normally loved to have fun with the other barbies and kens, you didn’t mind being alone. What wasn’t okay was that you didn’t dare to leave your dreamhouse, almost fearing that if you left you might not be able to come back to it. For the days after the incident, you avoided the kens like the plague, and that was something strange and new for you. Sure, they had their moments, but even then, they had always been sweet. You never dreamed you’d actually lose your trust in them.

When the other barbies would wave to you from their dreamhouses, asking if you would be at the beach, at their party, etc., you simply told them you weren’t feeling well.

You weren’t feeling well, that was the truth.

Never once living in Barbieland did you have to worry about being oppressed. Never once did you have to worry about being, well, a Barbie! That was the fate of the people who lived in the real world. Never once did you think that could happen in Barbieland.

But it had, and you didn’t think you could recover.

So you sat on your sofa all day, sipping your imaginary coffee, almost waiting for something to happen.

A knock on the door.

You were almost sure it was one of the other barbies, checking up on you because they were worried, but instead you opened up the door to see him.

Ken. The Ken. King of the Beach. Tall, blonde, athletic. Always happy, always kind. At least you had thought so. It was a shame. You had always liked Ken.

“Hi Barbie,” He says nervously.

“Hi Ken,” you say, without a hint of cheerfulness.

“Can I, um.. can I come in?”

“Why? Have you come to take back your Mojo Dojo Casa House?”

“No, Barbie.”

A moment of silence. Though you were wary, you knew you couldn’t keep living like this. You couldn’t hide forever. Motioning for him to enter, you sigh.

“Come in.”

He perks up a little, before sliding into the house. He’s not really sure what to do with himself, so he just kind of stands there awkwardly.

“Uh.. here,” you say, motioning to the couch. He follows, and the two of you sit down.

“So. Why are you here then?” You ask, your voice a quiet mix between anger and sadness. You can’t gather the courage to look him in the eye, instead staring down at your feet.

“I came to apologize.”

“Hmm. You did?”

You can feel the tears beginning to well. In your throat, in your eyes. You had never had real tears, not until all of this had happened.

“Yes Barbie, I did. Oh god, where do I even start. Barbie, you deserve so much better than what we did to you. I’m sorry we took your dreamhouse. I’m sorry we made you wait on us. I’m sorry we treated you - that we made you feel - like you were insignificant. You are so much more than that.”

You can’t take it. A sob rips from your throat, the tears spilling over your eyes. You can’t stop. You cover your face in embarrassment.

Ken immediately rushes closer to you. “Hey, hey,” he says quietly. He’s not sure if he should hug you; he instead just ends up resting a delicate hand on your back, patting it every now and then. “Oh Barbie, please don’t cry … I’m sorry, I’m so sorry..”

You’re choking on your tears, almost hyperventilating.

“Alright, hey, it’s okay. Just take a deep breath, alright, it’ll be okay.”

When you’re finally able to calm yourself down, Ken continues.

“You have got every right to be upset. All the barbies do. But I can’t help but notice you’ve taken it harder than everyone else.”

You’re almost angry at that last sentence. He couldn’t be serious, could he? Did he seriously expect you to just get over this?

Ken seems to pick up on this, and adds, “And I’m not saying that’s a bad thing either. Like I said, you’ve got every right to be upset. I’m just worried about you!”

The anger begins to subside.

“You .. you haven’t been at the beach in days! You love the beach, Barbie.”

“I loved the beach.”

Silence.

“Barbie .. I just wanna see you happy again. We all do.”

Nothing.

“Barbie.. what can I do to fix this?”

You finally look up at him, tears in your eyes.

“Why did you do it, Ken?”

He gazes back at you, his expression even sadder then it already was. Now it’s him who can barely look you in the eye.

“Barbie,”

“Yeah?”

“First of all I want you to know that I’m not trying to excuse anything I did. But if knowing will make you feel better, I’ll tell you.”

You nod, unsure of what you’re about to hear.

“Barbie .. I just don’t feel good enough. I thought being in charge of everything would make me feel important. That it would make me feel better about myself. I was wrong though. I just ended up hurting people that didn’t deserve it. It was so, so wrong. I was wrong, Barbie. I’m so so sorry.”

“Ken ..”

He begins to cry himself. “And now I’ve hurt you, I’ve hurt you so bad you don’t even feel like you can leave your dreamhouse!”

It’s then when Ken lets out a series of comically loud sobs, face cupped by his hands.

“Oh Ken..” you say sympathetically, rushing over to the counter to grab a box of tissues. “Here..”

Ken sniffles, blowing imaginary snot into the tissue. You pat him on the back gently, just as he had done for you earlier.

“I’m sorry, Barbie. I’m totally pathetic,” he whines.

Sitting down next to him, you take his hand into yours. “You’re not pathetic, Ken. You’re showing remorse, that you truly are sorry for what you did. That’s not pathetic.”

“You think so?” he sniffs.

“I do. Ken, you never needed to change yourself to be enough for other people. You always were enough. You’re kenough, Ken!” you giggle, pointing at his sweatshirt.

“Ah, yeah..” he laughs. “You think so?”

“Yes, Ken. I liked you before patriarchy. You were always kind, and funny and caring, and I was always happy to be around you. When you changed, not only did I feel disrespected.. I was sad. I missed the way you all were before. I get it - you don’t wanna be second to the barbies. But you could’ve said that-“

“Another way,” Ken interjects.

“Yes.”

“I know, Barbie. That’s what I feel awful about. I know I sound like a broken record, but I really am sorry.”

“I’m sorry too, Ken. Everyone should feel heard in Barbieland.” you mutter quietly.

For a moment, the two of you sit there, nodding heads in silent agreement, before Ken asks,

“Barbie?”

“Hm?”

“You really liked the way I was before?”

“Yes, Ken. Like I said, you don’t need to change yourself. For anyone. You’re enough, the way you are.”

“Then I won’t ever change again,” he says, before pulling you into a hug.

“I hope not,” you smile, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Barbie?”

“Yes, Ken.”

“Will you be at the beach?”

“Yes, Ken. I’ll be at the beach.”

#ken #ken carson #ken x reader #ken x y/n #ken x you #ryan gosling #ryan gosling x reader #barbie #barbie movie #barbie 2023

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dc-marvel-life · 2 months

Text

That Dang Snake

Pairing: Hermione Granger

Summary: Hermione starts to get the attention of an unlikely Slytherin girl

Word Count: ~2.3k

A/N: Send in request

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Hermione’s POV

It is finally Saturday, the day of the first date for Y/N and me. I am excited but nervous at the same time about this date. The entire week, Y/N and I have been talking in or between classes, and also we have been meeting in the library to study together. I can see why everyone says she is so kind, but something has been up over the past few days.

Everyone in Slytherin suddenly avoids her, even Draco, who is supposed to be childhood friends with Y/N. The only person in Slytherin who talks to Y/N is Greengrass, but every other house is fine with her. Even the tri-wizard students speak to her.

I was taken out of my thoughts by Harry waving his hand before me.

“You okay, Hermione? It looks like you are deep in thought, well more than usual,” Harry asks, concerned.

“Yeah, I am fine. Harry, Ron, Ginny, and I are eating breakfast this morning in the great hall. I was just thinking about a test next week,” I say, lying and continuing to eat my breakfast.

“Relax, Hermione, it is a Saturday, and you should enjoy it. Maybe even go on a date with me,” Ron asks, and I get an icky feeling. Talking with Y/N made me realize that my feeling for Ron was just platonic feelings that I thought were romantic. My feelings for Y/N are different, and I want to explore that with her.

“I actually have plans with Luna tonight, so I can’t go, sorry,” I lie to Ron, and Ginny looks at me side-eyed. She knows that I am going on a date tonight with Y/N, and I can see it on her face that she is trying not to laugh.

“Oh, that’s okay. Maybe another time, then?” Ron asks, and I sit there frozen, not knowing what to say. Ron was waiting for an answer, but I heard a loud bang. Everyone in the great hall turns around to look at the Slytherin table to see Y/N and Draco standing up, looking intensely at each other. Y/N has food all over her, which I am guessing Draco threw on her. It took everything in me not to run over to her side to ensure she was okay.

It looks like Y/N is thinking about hitting Draco because her hand is clenching and unclenching, but Greengrass comes up to Y/N and drags her out of the great hall. The place was silent for about 20 seconds then everything returned to normal. Everyone was discussing what was happening and betting on who would win in that fight.

I would have bet Y/N would kick Draco’s ass easily.

“What was that all about?” I ask the table and see Ron and Ginny looking at each other.

“What was that?! I question them. You guys know something, huh?” Harry looks around, like always confused about what is happening.

“Look, you have to keep this under wraps because we aren’t even supposed to know this information,” Ron says, looking around and leaning in to speak quietly.

“So Ginny and I were home for a bit to get something, and we overheard our parents talking. They were talking about how the Y/L/N’s kicked Y/N out of the family and left her with nothing,” Ron says quietly.

I sat there momentarily, trying to process what Ron said.

“Do you know why she got kicked out?” Harry asks, and Ron shrugs.

“My parents just said that the pureblood families are foul for kicking her out because they did. They left her with nothing, and now she is homeless,” Ron says, and my heart grows heavy.

Where is she going to live? How is she getting money? Where did the scars come from? Maybe I can get some answers tonight on the date. I finish eating breakfast and go back to the dorms. I finish up on homework and practice a few spells before getting ready to go out.

I went into my closet to pick out a cute outfit, but it was more complicated than expected. I pull out my whole wardrobe, and it still feels like I have nothing to wear. Usually, I wouldn’t try so hard to look good, but this is my first date with Y/N, and I want her to be amazed.

I hear the door opening and a loud gasp. I turn to see who it is, and it is Ginny.

“What in the world happened here? Were you doing a tornado spell or something” Ginny says and giggles while stepping over my clothes to stand beside me.

“No, I am just picking out an outfit for tonight, but I can’t find anything to wear,” I say, crossing my arms.

“Don’t worry, I am here to help you out, so go and shower while I pick out an outfit for you,” Ginny says, picking up my clothes off the floor.

“Thank you,” I say, running to the showers. I will say taking a shower really help me relax a bit. I come out to the room and see that Ginny has put away all my clothes and has an outfit picked out for me.

“Oh Ginny, this is perfect,” I say while looking at the bed to see a pair of jeans, a white undershirt, and a maroon sweater.

“I know!” Ginny says, smiling, and I give her a big hug. I quickly get changed and do my hair with the help of Ginny.

“You look so beautiful, Hermione! Y/N won’t be able to keep her hands off of you,” Ginny says, and I start to blush.

“Well, none of that will be happening on the first date,” I say and smile. I grab all my things and set off toward Hogsmeade. Once I am at Hogsmeade, I found a bench near the entrance so Y/N can see me when she first comes in.

Time passes by, and still no sign of Y/N anywhere. I look down at my watch and see she is 30 minutes late to the set meeting time.

“I guess she stood me up,” I say to myself, then sigh in defeat. I can feel the tears forming in my eyes, and I try to hold them back. I don’t want to break down crying in front of everyone here.

“Hermione! Wait! I’m coming,” I hear someone say in the distance. I look around to see who called out my name, and it is Y/N. Even from far away, I can see she is wearing a black turtle neck and chino pants with a brown trench coat. Damn, why does she have to look so sexy when I am mad at her right now.

Next thing I know, Y/N is in front of me, out of breath from the running she did coming down here. I didn’t make eye contact with her because I was mad that I had waited 30 minutes for her to come.

“Hermione, I am so sorry that I am late. Things got complicated and-” Y/N starts, but I cut her off.

“I don’t care you are still late, and I was looking forward to this-” I stop talking once I finally look Y/N in the eye, only to see she has a black eye and a cut lip.

“Who did this to you?!” I yell, then inspect her face. She flinches at first, then welcomes my hands.

“It doesn’t matter who did this to me. Just know this is why I am late, but I didn’t do it intentionally. All I want to do is go on this date with you. I hate that I am late, but I will make it up to you by buying whatever you want from Honeydukes,” Y/N says, then takes my hand that is inspecting her face and kisses it. I feel the blood rushing toward my cheeks.

“Okay, but I am not going just to drop this topic. We will come back to it later,” I say, and she salutes to me like a soldier.

“Yes, ma’am,” she says, and I laugh. She takes my hand, and we walk around Hogsmeade to talk about anything and everything. She kept her promise and let me get anything I wanted from Honeydukes. I didn’t get too much because I know she got kicked out of her family. We end up at Madam Puddiffor’s Tea Shop to get a drink and talk.

“So what really happened to your face,” I say once we order our drinks and sit down. Y/N lets out a sigh and rubs her face.

“There was a misunderstanding with a few Slytherins, but I was able to handle it,” Y/N says and smiles.

“Is there something going on with you and the other Slytherins? I have noticed over the past week they have been ignoring you,” I ask, concerned.

“So you are watching my movements, Hermione. I am flatter,” Y/N says, smirking at me.

“I am serious, Y/N. Look, you know that I am new to this dating scene and never thought I would be into women, but it is different with you. I am always thinking about you in some type of way. Like if you are getting enough to eat, if you are getting what is going on in class, or if you really like me because I really like you,” I ramble on, then Y/N puts her hand on mine.

“Of course, I really like you, Hermione. You have no idea how long I have waited to ask you out. You are not like any other girl I know,” Y/N says, and I smile, blushing.

“Well, good because I really do like you, and I want to see where this goes, but we have to be honest with each other up front. That way, this can work between us,” I say and look at Y/N. I can see her brain going a mile a minute thinking of something.

“You are right, and we need to be honest with each other. I have been hiding something from you for years,” Y/N says and takes a deep breath. I look at her, confused, wondering what she could have been hiding from me for years!

“I have liked you ever since the first year. When I landed my eyes on you, I knew you were something special. I wanted to get to know you more but Draco told me that I couldn’t because you are a muggle-born, and purebloods couldn’t hang out with you. I knew that our parents thought that way, but I thought all the kids were like me and didn’t believe in blood status in that way. Well, there are the Weasley, but their parents taught them right. Anyway, I was told to stay away from you and just keep going with my life. I did that, but it was so hard to get you off my mind over the years. I would get so nervous around you that I wouldn’t even talk. I had to distract myself with over girls to stop thinking about you, but it didn’t work. I will always come back to you. So this year, I thought of the brilliant idea it was time to tell my parents that I am into girls and not just any girl, but Hermione Granger. They were furious, of course, because their pure bloodline would end with me. You can’t have a baby if you are with girls, and to make it worse, it is with a muggle-born. They said much more than that, but I summed it up for you. They beat me and threw me out with no money. Luckily I have my own money, but that’s why I have all those bruises all over my body, and this,” Y/N points to her face, “is the result of all the Slytherin purebloods giving me ‘betraying our kind’ beat-ups” Y/N says taking a deep breath like she just removed a ton of bricks off her back.

I just sat there silently for a minute to process all the information thrown at me. It is hard to wrap my head around that Y/N has had a crush on me since the first year. Then finally telling her parents that she likes girls and a muggle-born girl at that, she gets beat up and kicked out.

“Please say something,” Y/N says, getting my attention.

“I don’t know what to say right now. That was a lot that just at me right now,” I say.

“You wanted me to be honest,” Y/N says, laughing lightly to brighten the mood.

“Yes, yes, I did. So it seems we are on the same page and like each other. What next?” I ask, raising my eyebrows. Y/N looks over me and smirks.

“Well, we keep getting to know each other. That means I will have to take you out on dates, and then once we get comfortable, I will ask you to be my girlfriend. Then we will see after that, but I hope it ends with a happily ever after,” Y/N says, leaning forward.

“I think I like that I like the plan,” I say, smiling and leaning forward. We met in the middle to kiss each other, which was the most magical thing to happen. Her lips were so soft but still firm at the same time, and her lips fit perfectly into my lip. I could kiss her all day long without any problem. We put away from each other and just looked into each different eyes.

“Wow,” We both say at the same time.

Taglist: @fanficaddictcore

#harry potter #hermione granger fanfiction #hermione fanfiction #hermoine granger #hermione granger x reader #hermione x reader #hermione granger #hermione granger imagine #hermione granger x you

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izartn · 3 months

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So, about how I see Link Click's Lu Guang and Cheng Xiaoshi relationship:

As it stands in canon? Queerplatonic partners. And it's convenient for the plot that they're like this.

Because of Chinese censorship it can't be explicitly romantic, yes I know it. Let me tell why it's queerplatonic for me. The way these two have intertwined their lives and futures together?!

Owning a business and living together, that hint in ep2 (comparing them to the subtextually older lesbian couple who also came across as queerplatonic bc censure) where Xiaoshi wonders/fears if years down the line he and Lu Guang will separate/break up implying their partnership is for life as far as he's concerned (the parallel can be taken as a subtext romance too but follow me we're talking text), the way they were already going also on vacancies together three years prev in canon, etc...

Without entering on their complimentary powers and the way the dives need both of them if they want security in not screwing the past, and the inmense trust and vulnerability the dives themselves require?

They're not simply best friends either.

Those aren't the actions of normal, totally not queer friends. Cheng Xiaoshi checks out women on the dives, sure, (and men too when the host is feeling it which I love bc they can't address it directly bc censorship and then it comes across as Xiaoshi being super confident in his own relationship to sexuality/gender) but I don't think he would ever date bc Lu Guang is already there, filling that place in his life minus sex and romance but all that same companionship and intensity of feeling.

These two meet in what, the last year/s of High School and then proceeded to latch onto each other with a commitment reserved for romantic partners.

And I know you want to say, "it's the censorship! they'd be romantic and canon if not for the censorship!"

Are you sure? Are you sure the story would work if there were explicit romance in it? (I mean, if they could I'm pretty sure they would have nailed it anyways but allow me my a-spec delusions) Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang feel so much like an already established pair, they work like one, and Link Click is not about them coming together like many other stories. Are you sure this would work as BL?

There's a distinct difference on the way they start the show already like six years at least since they're best friends and three or two since they live together. That's not usually how it goes. I'm talking not just romances but every buddy or nakama anime/show, where the protag has to learn to work with who will be his best friend or rival. These stories usually have the same kind of plot progression as a romance which is why they work so well when you make the subtext text.

But a story where the main romance is already established and we're following a plot that has nothing to do with it? Much more rare, even stranger to find them well done although there are some very good ones and with the friendships instead of romo they're more common. For example, Soul Eater, which is all about the trials of it and how they hace to truly come to understand each other. That's Link Click a bit, but not even then.

Link Click juggling a budding romance between Lu Guang and Cheng Xiaoshi with all the other stuff is going on?? Messier for sure. I don't know if people would have liked it as much or if the donghua would have been as well done.

As it is, Link Click has the exact level of emotional connection between our protags it needs to have incredibly high stakes emotionally and at the same time not need a detour by romantic scenes/fanservice that would derail the plot or the other charas importance. That it happens to be pretty queer anyways in a platonic way?

Nice for the aroace-spec folks watching the show xD

Btw, I'm pretty sure in season 3 we're going to get more of Lu Guang's PoV, the origins of their powers and the past between him and Xiaoshi. It'll probably dig more into the aspect of "testing their bond and coming stronger bc of it" which is were the romantic subtext usually comes through...

—unless you're very very good at writing like Arakawa in FMA, who nailed the brotherly relationship without tipping into incest subtext which I've seen more than a few writers fumble. or the latest D&D film for the platonic childrearing and partnership for a no familial example between a man and a woman also very very difficult to get right for writers dunno why—

... but until then, for now I'm incredibly satisfied by the canon.

The other read of course it that they're already a couple since well before the start of season 1, and to mentally edit what we saw in canon with that lens (it wouldn't be very difficult honestly) but reading only the text? Queerplatonic partners!

There also how Xiaoshi and Lu Guang don't have that anxiety/insecurity of their bond that makes it so easy to read the want for something, like a romance for shipping purposes. Despite the disagreements on the Dives or the trials of season 2 or Lu Guang keeping secret Cheng Xiaoshi future/past death they read very steady which is fun. I love some good established relationship, you can go to deeper places when the base is already secure and the risk is higher for the characters. Plus I love domesticity! Yes, I do my angsty/Gothic leanings notwithstanding. Don't you know you need a home for the Gothic to be effective?

#link click #meta #link click meta #lu guang #cheng xiaoshi #shiguang #my thoughts #all of this to say that I don't exactly ship them #Although I've been tagging fanart and meta with their shipname #bc I dont not ship them #honestly?#it's because despite it all I'm very much a canon girl so I can't help but see shiguang on that same romo-not romo limbo #canon present us with #loving the fics though #and Lu Guang is so tragic timetraveler for love coded is not funny #which is the reason I'm sure season 3 will give me that shift towards a more romantic lense to their relationship #also the way they made sure to sibling-fy qiao ling and cheng xiaoshi was fun XD #in conclusion: I think Link Click being a danmei wouldn't have worked #precisely bc it wasnt created as danmei the story as it is works almost perfectly #and right now Im not sure if I would want the romance at the expense of everything else the plot is doing #....qiang jin jiu did it well on the second half though #but it had the first part to go from a enemies-to-lovers and establishing the romance #I don't think I've seen a danmei start with a established romantic relationship bc the genre being a romance tells you that's #what's going to be centered #link click would had to be a just a time travel thriller with queer elements (which it is)#and I don't know #I'd love it but I bet we'll have lots of people annoyed/annoying bc they're here for the romance #Instead of taking the story for what it is #but then romance (queer romance) doesn't devalue the storytelling #ah the conflict of wanting a-spec queer stories VS censorship

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fictionadventurer · 1 year

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Seeing your latest fairy tale post and some misconceptions about fairy tales, I’m interested to see your perspective on how they portray love cause lots of people believe it to be not of much substance

Not much substance? The love that sends a woman east o' the sun and west o' the moon in search of her beloved? The love that wears through seven pairs of iron shoes? The love that makes seven nettle-shirts while keeping silent for seven years? The love that sends a prince through brambles that that have killed dozens of men before him? Fairy tales contain some of the most awe-inspiring examples of true, substantial love--romantic, platonic, and familial--that one can imagine, and anyone who thinks otherwise has not read far enough into the genre.

Perhaps these people are referring to commonly-known Cinderella types of tales, where a prince falls madly in love with a woman after one night of dancing, and we are meant to believe that this is a solid-enough foundation for a lifetime of happiness. How could he truly love her? Isn't it more likely he's been blinded by her beauty? No, because these too-literal takes forget that Cinderella's appearance in a dazzling gown is a revelation of her true self; the interior beauty that has been hidden by her stepmother's efforts to keep her enslaved as a soot-covered, rag-wearing servant is now put on full display, clad in silk and jewels as such beauty deserves to be. Often in fairy tales, beauty equates with goodness, not because beauty is good, but because goodness is beautiful. It is this beauty, exterior and interior, that the prince can now recognize and fall in love with, and a love built upon a foundation that clearly sees the interior self can be as lasting and true as love built upon years of acquaintance.

Or maybe these skeptics are talking about the many tales in which a husband or wife is merely a reward for success in the hero's endeavors, just another piece of the happily-ever-after, a love that we're supposed to believe in just because we're told it exists. But how is this different from any of the other unbelievable things in the story? In fairy tales, we don't expect things to happen like they do in the real world. Animals talk, monsters eat children, strangers hand out magical gifts that work upon arbitrary rules. We don't question these things, merely marvel at them. Things happen because they happen, and we don't need to understand more than that. It's a very childlike approach that doesn't wonder why or how, but just plain wonders at the marvelous news that it happened at all. If the story tells us that the couple lived happily-ever-after, who are we to doubt the truth of the tale? Why can we believe that the ogre can turn into a mouse, that the cloak can make a man invisible, or that the boots can travel seven leagues in one stride, but doubt that the love between husband and wife can last through a lifetime? Why is human fidelity the one miracle that we doubt? Fairy tales are a genre that asks for innocence--for child-like trust that the story happened the way they said it did. As marvelous and unbelievable as it sounds to the skeptical ears of adults, love can last a lifetime, whether a couple has known each other for a few hours or a few decades, if they choose to keep loving each other every day of their lives. If the story tells me it happened, I am more than happy to believe it was so.

#answered asks #fairy tales

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soaringthroughthegalaxy · 5 months

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Wash Away the Pain #2 - Hunter

Fleeing Kamino, Hunter knows they’ve made a mistake, but he isn’t sure how to fix it. Could they even fix it? Who knows. All he does know is that he’s way out of his depth.

Pairing: Hunter x gn!reader (can be seen as platonic or romantic)

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: whump, guilt, hurt and comfort, brief mention of order 66, hopeful ending.

A/N: I was heavily inspired by these gorgeous drawings by @thattoothpick.

This is part of a mini-series where each of our boys will get their sad/angsty shower time, but they can be read as standalone's.

Check out others in the series: Echo, Tech, Wrecker, and Crosshair.

ps; don't care what's canon or not, the Marauder has a fresher 😂

It’s late, but Hunter can’t sleep.

How did things go so sideways?

They never leave their own behind, and yet…

He sighs, head thunking back against the shower wall. There wasn’t much room in the small fresher on the Marauder, but it was the only space he could be alone with his thoughts. Guilt churns in his gut. What the hell had happened to his baby brother? Why had he fired at them?

Crosshair’s demeanour had changed ever since the order on Kaller. His brother would’ve never fired on a child in the past; he would’ve listened – albeit with a snarky comment – when told to stand down. It was as if Crosshair had been replaced by someone else.

But rather than getting to the bottom of it, they’d left him.

He’d left him.

So much for being a good leader. A good brother.

The quiet click of the fresher door doesn’t even register to Hunter as his thoughts spiral, clutching the bandana wrapped around his fist.

The touch of your hand on his tattooed cheek rips him from his thoughts, head tipping forward to look at you standing before him under the shower spray.

You’d heard Hunter get up and had heard him head to the fresher and turn on the shower. Tech, Wrecker, and Omega remain asleep. Echo is on watch as you travel through hyperspace. As the squads nat-born medic, called in because of the inability of your boys to get along with regs, it was your job to look after their wellbeing. And now it felt like Hunter needed some care.

“Hey, H.” You greet him softly once he looks at you. Living in such close quarters had desensitised you to nudity – you’d seen all the boys in varying states of undress over the years and had even ripped blacks from them when they’d been injured to give you more room to work.

Hunter doesn’t bless you with any words, just a tiny nod of his head in acknowledgement. He doesn’t need to say anything for you to understand what’s going on in his head.

“It’s not your fault.” You whisper, fingers smoothing down his face and neck, pushing back wet strands of dark hair plastered to his skin until your palm presses against his chest.

Hunter’s gaze lingers on yours, searching for reassurance that you may hold the answers he desperately seeks. The steam from the shower swirls around both of you.

“I should’ve done something,” Hunter mutters, his voice a low rasp. The guilt in his eyes mirrors the storm within him. “I left him behind. Left my own brother.”

Your fingers smooth over his collarbone, a gesture of comfort. “You did what you had to do to protect the rest of us. Crosshair wasn’t himself. You couldn’t have predicted it.”

Hunter’s jaw tightens, and his gaze drops to the swirling water pooling at his feet. The Marauder’s constant hum provides a backdrop to the heavy silence between you.

“He’s my responsibility,” Hunter admits, a raw vulnerability in his voice. “I should’ve found a way to save him.”

Your fingers tilt his chin, forcing him to meet your gaze again. “Hunter, you’re only human. You can’t control the choices others make. All you can do is protect the ones who are still here.”

He closes his eyes briefly as if trying to shut out the haunting images that plague his mind.

“You’re not alone in this, H.” You assure him. “We’re a team, and we’ll figure this out together. Whatever happened to Crosshair, we’ll find a way to bring him back.”

Hunter’s shoulders relax, if only slightly, under the weight of your words. The subtle touch of your fingers against his chest feels like an anchor, grounding him in the present moment.

A mixture of gratitude and anguish plays across Hunter’s features. He opens his mouth to respond, but no words come out. Instead, he steps forward, his wet skin meeting your soaked clothes as the shower’s spray cascades around you both.

Without a word, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a gentle embrace. A hand cups the back of your head, the other around your waist, holding you close. The water from the shower mingles with the tears that escape his closed eyes. You hold him, offering solace in the only way you know how. Hunter’s breath steadies as he clings to the lifeline of human connection.

As the minutes pass, the weight on Hunter’s shoulders seems to ease. The guilt doesn’t vanish entirely, but it becomes a shared burden. You pull back slightly, holding him at arm’s length. Your eyes lock onto his. “We’ll find him, Hunter.” You affirm, your voice unwavering. “Whatever changed him, we’ll get to the bottom of it. And if there’s a way to bring him back, we’ll find that too.”

Hunter’s expression softens, a mixture of gratitude and determination replacing the turmoil. He nods a silent agreement that resonates through the small fresher. The two of you stand there for a moment longer, the steady hum of the Marauder and the pattering of the shower the only sounds in the room.

You reach for his hand, unfurling the bandana wrapped around it. Quietly, you wrap one end around your hand, too. “We’re with you, Hunter. No matter what.”

Hunter’s grip tightens on his end of the bandana, the physical connection serving as a tangible reminder of the support he has. “What do we do about the kid?” He asks softly, thrown so far out of his element.

You shrug, not having thought that far ahead. “We figure that out, too. You said it yourself: she’s one of us.”

“Never raised a kid before.” Hunter murmurs, brows drawing down into a frown. He could remember himself and his brothers at Omega’s age, but that was his only reference point.

A soft laugh leaves you, echoing in the fresher. “And you think I have?” You tease, delight flaring in your chest as Hunter’s lips pull up slightly into a smile. That was more like it.

Silence lingers between you both again, comfortable as always, but you watch as Hunter’s eyes glaze over a little. “He’ll think we abandoned him in favour of her.” He swallows, jaw clenching as the earlier guilt rears its head again.

“Perhaps, but we know that’s not the case.” You reassure him, hand shifting from his chest to smooth across his bicep, across the dark ink that shades it. “We were kitting up to go and find him, to break him out of wherever he’d been taken.”

Hunter knows you’re right, but pushing away his thoughts is hard. “Should’ve stunned him. Should’ve…”

“Hey. We’re not falling down that ash-rabbit hole, okay?” Your voice is more assertive this time, though still laced with care. “There’s a lot of ‘should’ve’ in life, but if that’s all we focus on, then we miss out on the here and now and forget to look to the future. What’s done is done, how we survive this…takeover…of the Empire, and how we get him back are all matters.” You insist, both hands rising to cup Hunter’s face to draw his focus to you.

It works. Hunter’s eyes find yours as he leans into the comfort you willingly give him. “Think we’ll survive?”

“I’ve spent three years with you. I’ve seen you guys pull off the impossible before.” You point out.

Hunter’s lips quirked into a half-smile, a glimmer of hope breaking through the clouds of doubt that had shrouded him. “Yeah, well, we have the best medic in the galaxy on our side.”

You playfully roll your eyes at his attempt to lighten the mood, but it does its job. “Flattery won’t get you out of the next round of physicals, Sergeant.”

He chuckles, the sound a welcome reprieve from the heavy atmosphere that had lingered moments before. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Let’s get some rest.” You suggest, the exhaustion evident in both of your eyes. “We’ll face whatever comes next with clear heads and a plan.”

With a nod, Hunter switches off the shower, and the two of you step out to towel off, changing into clean blacks stored in the only locker in the room. As you return to the racks, you glimpse Omega, still curled on her makeshift bed. She stirs slightly but settles quickly. Hunter places a hand on your shoulder, a silent expression of gratitude.

As you settle into your bunk, you glance at Hunter, resting in his bed across from you. His eyes meet yours, and an unspoken promise is made in that shared gaze. The journey may be arduous and treacherous, but together, as a family, you will face it all. The Marauder hurtles through the star-studded void, a small vessel carrying the hopes and dreams of those who refuse to be crushed by the weight of a galaxy in turmoil.

Tag list: @clonethirstingisreal @littlemissmanga @starrylothcat @cw80831 @dreamie411 @issa-me-bry-blog

#the bad batch x reader #the bad batch x you #bad batch x reader #bad batch x you #tbb x reader #tbb x you #the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #star wars clone wars #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter x you #tbb hunter #hunter x reader #hunter x you #the bad batch hunter x you #sergeant hunter x reader #sergeant hunter #hunter #clone force 99

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platinumrosetail · 1 year

Note

Record of Ragnarok x Pokemon Trainer!Reader?

Maybe she ends up in the ROR universe or the other way around, but either way I just think it'd be interesting if she tries to explain her world to everyone and just throws out a this tiny, cute pokemon, making the ROR characters not take her seriously at first, but then she just throws out pokemon like Mew, Kyogre, or heaven forbid, Arceus himself, casually saying these were the gods of her world.

I quite literally been trying to make a post about this before so this is fantastic for me also yes a ror request whoo! Also yes with the reader having powerful and god like Pokémon along with cute Pokémon.

It felt too crowded with four legendaries with three being bigger than one of them so I had to switch out giratina for a starter, hope that’s alright with you 😅😭.

Me and them talked and fill in some things that I had questions about so you might see some things that was left out of the request, this is a heads up if you get confused on that 😁.

This might be focused on the reaction and fighting than anything romantic as I haven’t gotten any requests for them to do this but I will try and make some romantic moments the best I can 😁😅.

Warning: noob author, female reader, possibly some ooc, and others.

Characters: some gods and some humans (romantic, they didn’t fully specify who so I’ll do the ones in my masterlist that i think would be more romantic for the reader), Valkyrie (platonic)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were visiting alola again after battling in galar and becoming champion there; reason why you were visiting alola again was because you have a relative you want to visit and cause necrozma (solgaleo) wanted to visit where they used to live aagain after so long.

You were just spending time with the ultra beast when you heard the sound of a ultra wormhole opening up from behind you and the next thing you know is that you’re in your space suit that can open by a button and that you’re on the back of necrozma growing past many wormholes with speed that you didn’t know it had as it takes them a while to pick up this speed in the wormhole current.

Next you were falling through as necrozma was forced to go back into their pokeball but some forces you couldn’t see but you could see the struggle they had before going into the pokeball. You screamed even though you know that wouldn’t help as you aren’t sure if you can bring out any capable pokemon at the moment with that force pulling necrozma back into their pokeball and all.

(That’’s just for plot convenience at the moment, it most likely won’t appear here anymore, y’know like a one time thing.)

You felt yourself get caught by a pair of what seem to be strong arms with how muscular they are, you trailed your eyes up and met red tinted glasses eyes, you fainted seconds later because of all the adrenaline finally settling down and because of the hot male that caught you.

(Honestly who wouldn’t for Buddha lol)

When you finally woke up you noticed that you were in bed, at first you thought that you were dreaming all of that in a lucid dream but then began to notice the difference between this room and your room back in your time.

Your train of thought was interrupted by the door to this room opening and in came a tall woman with dark blue hair and from what you could tell by the distance between you two, green eyes.

“I’m glad to see that you’re awake, as i would like to discuss something with you if you don’t mind.” The woman says as she watches you sit up on the bed. “But first lets introduce ourselves, seeing as we might be working together from now on if you agree to a favor i would like to ask of you.”

“Ok……” I hesitantly agree wondering where this was going.

“My name is brunhilde and i would like your assistance on helping save humanity from being destroyed by the gods.” The woman now known as brunhilde introduced and explained the favor to you.

“My name is (Y/n)… and about that favor, can i have some time to think about it, y’know with how it’s a lot to take in and with how big the favor seems to be?” You asked wondering what world you’re in for humanity to be pushed to extinction if they don’t win this supposed battle of gods vs humanity.

“Of course, i understand, when you decide come find me in the meeting room.” Brunhilde quickly exit completely forgetting that you don’t know this place like she does and you don’t know where that is.

“He! Wait where is that?!” You tried to call out to her and get her to tell you before she left but seems she already died making you sigh before doing what you said you were going to do until later though that train of thought was quickly broken but something being dropped on your chest.

You uncovered your eye with the arm you previously placed over them to think and see big blue eyes and a pink short furred cat staring right back at you while their tail is swishing back and forth almost expecting something from you……. Until it hit you, quite literally as the creature you know as mew bap’ed their paw at you and you realized what they wanted.

“Fine~….. but after that no bothering me until later, ok? I need to think about this favor brunhilde asked of me.” You got a nod before going through the bag that was on the desk that was next to the bed you were on, and thankfully everything seems to still be in their original place in it anyway back to the task at hand, mew had wanted you to get the poke treat you always make for them and the others, your parent taught you the recipe for these things and like always it was all of your Pokémon’s favorite which doesn’t surprise you as the recipe was all Pokémon’s favorite, and of course there were different flavors for any pokemon with a different taste bud.

You decided to take a walk outside to get a clear head as the room was becoming too stuffy even though it was a really big room and it took many steps to even get to the door of it.

The place you ended up next was what most likely be the garden for this place you appeared in, while walking around there you spot a male laying down on the green grass that you know all grass type would enjoy running around in.

The male looked strangely familiar with the glasses and hair but you can’t quite place where you might’ve seen from though you guess you’ll know soon enough as when you went to get a closer look you seem to have woken the sleeping man up as the next thing you knew was that you hear a deep voice call out.

“Staring is rude, y’know.” You jumped, startled at the sudden noice breaking your concentration and began to panic while trying to push out an apology.

“S-sorry! You just seemed so f-familiar and i wanted to figure o-out why a-and—” you were cut off by what seems to be a lollipop being pushed into your mouth, and the lollipop you previously sen in his mouth is gone as well……. It didn’t take you long to figure out where that lollipop has gone to which made you blush up a storm and started to look like a (Pokémon name) with how bad you blushed at the indirect kiss you two basically shared.

“Calm down or you’l faint again.” he says which got me thinking on how he knew I fainted before unless…..

“You’re the one that catched me!” I finally figured out who he was and accidentally yelled out a bit as i finally could thank the one who catches and saved my life from that long fall.

“So you finally remember, huh?”

The male introduced himself as Buddha which i responded with my own introduction as well. He soon asked what you were doing here when you’re human and should be in the human realm which you quickly explained your predicament as he thought you fell from their version of human realm by accident and was already ack to your human life after you woke up.

“Well you see, technically I’m from another universe or dimension where there’s these creatures called pocket monster, or pokemon for short, and while hanging around at one of the places i visit to have some alone time, a wormhole opened and one of my pokemon had decided that it was time to go on an adventure again like when i was younger but when getting close to the end of the portal my pokemon was forced back into their pokeball and you know what happened next… sorry about that by the way.”

“Mmm, it’s fine, though you can show me one of these pokemon you have on you.” Buddha says which was alright with you and you guess he got curious on what one would look like with how you talked about them.

You went through your head on which one to bring out to show him before choosing your sylveon who likes getting attention from you and anybody you deem worthy enough to be your friend.

“This is sylveon, one of my Pokémon that been with me since I started my journey.” You say as you pet your beloved Pokémon.

“She’s cute.” Buddha say which made you laugh a little but quickly noticed how sylveon was reacting to that so you hurried to explain before things get out of hand.

“Actually sylveon is a boy, he gets irritated if you call him a girl, the only time he’s alright is when he goes to use to his advantage.”

After a few more hours of you two spending time together it was time for a leave as you still need to inform brunhilde the decision you picked while with Buddha.

(I’m going to speed this along as it’s already long right now.)

It was a few days after you joined the fight for humanities survival. You’ve met some of the human fighters, all with very different personalities and backgrounds.

The only ones who know about you being from another universe and your Pokémon being with you is brunhilde, her sisters, and Buddha, and even then they only know the normal ones you have not the legendaries you have, reason why you didn’t want to share with the others is because you wanted to surprise them within your round which is like a demonstration of what’s to happen though like the others the round is a death match as well.

The god you were facing was a low god to the others gods and goddesses but still strong enough to take down a normal human……. If you were a normal human, but seeing as you came from another universe entirely makes you no ordinary normal human.

“You should just surrender girly! I wouldn’t want you to accidentally break a nail!! Hahahahaha!!!” At that the god of (???) gained a laugh from the others on his side of this battle, he didn’t get the rise out of you like he was hoping for but instead a sweet, sweet smile that seems to scream danger to him but he tries not to be intimidated by a ‘lowly’ human like you.

You had already sent out a Pokémon before the fight, mew, who was invisible and would appear when you call out to it, but for now you’ll hold back on who you chose to send out, the one you send out is a hisuian zoroark that you caught in the past of sinnoh.

“Zoroark! Use shadow sneak!!” You called out a move for your zoroark to use which allows it to move first. A shadow from zoroark’s shadow goes towards the god which confused him on how you and your beast can do that before starting to feel extraordinary pain which made him tilt his head behind him to see what’s going on back there only to see a shadow looming over him being the culprit yo his pain.

Thankfully for him it ended soon enough but he was still littered with long scratches from the attack.

“How?! How did you do that?! And where did that mangy beast come from?!” He yelled out and basically insulted your Pokémon which irritates you when people get like that but make sure to hold that anger for the finishing blow when the time is right.

“I don’t want to reveal any of my secrets so you’ll just have to wait.” You say which makes the gods like hades, shiva, Loki, Thor, Poseidon only shared a small short glance before looking away uninterested in this fight and what happens to the human female, zeus also shared an interest disgustingly enough.

“Hmm, this human is interesting right hades?” Zeus says, hades doesn’t say anything as he saw the same female alone in the gardens one time and also had a interest with her being there and not in the human realm

On the Norse side there was Loki and Thor along with Odin and the two birds that follow him that Loki likes to tease. “Hmmm~ I wonder what she means by that~ what do you say Thor?~” he got no response from him which made Loki pout.

While they were all talking, the battle continued on until you only had three Pokémon left, coincidentally they were some of the legendaries/mythical from your world which theoretically speaking is basically like the gods from your world.

You thought as long and as hard as you could which was only a second before sending out the big one….. the almighty creator of both humans and Pokémon kind in your world; arceus.

“I’m sorry for acting cocky right now buuut….. you’re about to become nonexistent.”

“Huh? What do you mean? It’s just a Llama! I bet it would be like the others, too! Though I wished you let them stay out so I could kill them and make you see that you’re of no match to us gods!!” That sentence right there irritated both you and arceus and made the both of you look at each and nod before you give out the command to end this bloody fool from his embarrassing ways.

“Arceus, could you please use judgement on this poor fool and end his embarrassment.” You say calmly which receives a ‘gladly’ from arceus through your shared telepathy.

And like that the god before you shatters into green shards, disappearing into the place where humans and gods go to after they die in the afterlife.

Arceus returned to his ball as you silently walk back to your side of the stadium through where you had entered, tired and hungry and ready for a shower after what stress that battle brought you.

All of them were shocked before getting interrupted by a big screen came on in the middle of the battle ground of the stadium, the screen had funny eyes and a grin on its face.

“Hello! I’m rotomdex! The Pokémon you saw winning the battle with (Y/n) was called arceus! The creator of humans and Pokémon in (Y/n) universe!! You see, (Y/n) was transported here from a ultra wormhole opening up! Anyway, I need to go! Bye!!” And with that the screen disappeared leaving many shocked beings, wether they were human or deity.

After that you got swarmed by the other human competitors, all complimenting you in their own little way along with the competitors ally’s and friends/family.

You also gained the interest of some of the gods who want to learn about you more after that display you showed them.

(A/n: finally!!!! I hope you guys like it! I decided to try something new, it’s not a bad way to do things, just know I won’t use it for some of your requests as it depends on what you guys request of me, I also wished I could do more with the characters besides Buddha but I just couldn’t think of anything and because I have favoritism for Buddha, I mean can you blame me? Lol, anyway hope y’all have a wonderful day/evening/night!!!)

#anime #various x reader #anime x reader #x reader stories #crossover #anime crossover #pokemon #pokemon crossover #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok x reader

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akenya · 1 year

Text

Rizzoli and Isles is actually a show about a Queerplatonic Relationship.

Okay hear me out.

So, I always have shipped Rizzles. There are many MANY ways in which these are queer coded characters with a heavy romantic subtext, that a lot of the time honestly bleeds into the maintext. A lot of the actions and dialogue that we would typically interpret as romantic, especially between a hetero pairing, certainly works for this show.

But I did a re-watch of the show recently, and while I still ship them romantically, I actually think what is being portrayed between them is something else. They are DEFINITELY more than friends; I mean they are life partners in every sense of the word. But the kind of dynamic that is CANONICALLY portrayed between Maura and Jane, is in fact, a Queerplatonic Relationship.

So here’s a working definition of the term for those who aren’t familiar with it:

Queerplatonic relationships and queerplatonic partnerships are committed intimate relationships which are not romantic in nature. They may differ from usual close friendships by having more explicit commitment, validation, status, structure, and norms, similar to a conventional romantic relationship

I have actually experienced something like this, (and yes I’m going to get a bit anecdotally personal here; I’ll try not to be too long winded, but it’s relevant, I promise lol):

I had an (unspoken) kind of relationship like this with my best friend in my early/mid 20s. We have been best friends since I was 11, but something definitely shifted when we became adults, and I have to say, I ended up, quite unexpectedly, being deeply in love with my best friend...platonically. I didn’t want to date her. I didn’t want to sleep with her. But, I was totally devoted to her and we were each other’s person for years. We were each other’s assumed plus one for everything, we regularly did dinner dates, we gave each other super sentimental cards and specialized gifts on birthdays, we also regularly did domestic shit together like grocery shopping, errands, chores, house projects; you name it, we had it/did it. I mean we were even each other’s phone background for a while lmao. We never lived together, but we had keys to each other’s places.

Now a lot of this shit can happen and does happen in standard friendships (maybe not the phone background thing; that was super gay ngl hahaha), but the thing that made this different was the level of assumed partnership going on between us. And the...energy. We would stare deeply into each other’s eyes. We had that magnetic kind of magic with each other, like no matter where the other is in the room, we find our way back to each other. And people literally perceived us as a couple. Hell, my other friends teased us about it.

Any of this sound familiar?

Oh and I DO find her to be attractive and even sexy. And we flirted (still do lolol) a LOT.

But I didn’t ever really.....actually want to have sex with her. Not that I would’ve even necessarily been opposed to it, because we were so close, but it just, wasn’t ever a desire for me.

This was interesting to experience, because I do identify as a lesbian, I have been romantically attracted to people, sexually attracted to people, and the two, as society expects, do usually go hand in hand for me. But with her, I honestly could’ve seen forever; like being exactly as we were, as life partners, I could’ve even seen myself raising kids with her, and I would have been TOTALLY, GENUINELY content with it, ‘cause my relationship with her filled me up in a way nothing else has. This was confusing as all hell to me for a long time, because I didn’t have a name for this until recently when I learned about the concept of Queerplatonic Relationships which again supersede friendship and often are life partnerships, but aren’t inherently romantic or sexual, even though they are quite deep. I actually think QPRs speak to that “limitless” “otherwise undefinable” kind of relationship dynamic.

Sooo - and I promise I’m wrapping my story up - when my bff met her current boyfriend, which is her first super serious adult relationship, I didn’t quite experience jealousy, I mean I always envisioned a romantic partnership for her, and I still want that for me! Buuuut...my feelings were complicated because it’s like...I had to mourn what I lost, as our dynamic inherently changed, and the fact that I wasn’t her person anymore. Weird thing to process indeed. Also *ahem* SOUND FAMILIAR?

Without getting too carried away here (oh who am I kidding, I already have 😂) for comparison’s sake, I actually went through a crazy ass heartbreak with someone, also while I was in my mid 20s; someone to whom I WAS romantically, sexually, spiritually, connected and attracted. I mean I was IN LOVE with this woman and she broke my heart by not fully reciprocating my feelings and not wanting to be with me. I thought I was gonna die when we stopped talking. Hell, it’s been years and I still think about her.

But if you were to ask me who the true love. of. my. life. has been so far...I’d pick my best friend!

The funny thing is I think a LOT of women end up in these kinds of dynamics, ESPECIALLY queer women, maybe even more so queer women who form super close relationships to “straight” women (gotta put str8 in quotes ‘cause...this shit is inherently queer even though it’s not romantic/sexual). You all know what I’m talking about; You’d do anything for each other, there’s chemistry, connection, and care, yet it doesn’t quite fit into any box you try to give it. People read you as a couple. You know this about yourselves, and you just...accept it. Because what you have is actually beyond any label. You know?

Anyway, I think there’s actually something cool and radical about this and I know that queer people want and deserve romantic and sexual representation, but I think this IS an accurate kind of representation that happens all the time that isn’t appropriately covered or discussed in media.

In hindsight, I think that’s what really hooked me on R&I. I mean, I started watching ‘cause I thought they were lesbians, and I kept watching ‘cause I thought it would be canon! And yeah, I still think about what could’ve been with them: fanfiction is good for that. But why do I still watch the actual show? Well...I LIVED it.

Now: do I think that Maura and Jane often tip the scales a lil’ TOOOOO far in the explicitly gay direction on this show? Oh hell yes! Do I think you can interpret them as two people who are madly in love, romantically, with each other, yet are too scared to do anything about it? Oh hell yes! Like I said I do ship Rizzles. BUT, if I’m honest about what is FULLY, CANONICALLY being portrayed, no subtext, ALL maintext: It’s 10000% a QPR.

So no: Maura Isles and Jane Rizzoli are certainly not JUST friends. They aren’t just colleagues, although their work relationship is just as powerful and awe inspiring as their personal one. They aren’t really like sisters, although they can quarrel like siblings at times. They aren’t truly romantic, although they are essentially life partners. They aren’t in a sexual relationship with each other; not that it couldn’t go there, but I also see how it wouldn’t need to go there, and how that doesn’t diminish the bond at all. They have something that I recognize -and something I think perhaps many of us recognize too- something beyond definition, because at the core of it they are true-blue soulmates who share a kind of unconditional love that is rarely found in ANY kind of relationship. If there is a definition that comes close to summing this kind of thing up: Queerplatonic Relationship is the answer!

Idk just felt like sharing this. Thanks for reading 🤓

#rizzoli and isles #rizzles #maura isles #jane rizzoli #maura x jane #queer platonic partners #queer platonic relationship

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yanderes-galore · 7 months

Note

OW2

Romantic Yan!Ramattra with omnic!Darling concept

Sure! I love him as a character so I'll see what I can do for him! I apologize if the lore appears wrong, I tried to research what I could!

Yandere! Ramattra with Omnic! Darling

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Violence, Manipulation, Revolution mention, Murder, Delusional behavior implied, Blood, Kidnapping, Forced conversion of beliefs, Death, Dubious/Forced relationship.

I feel an Omnic! Darling would be the one to gain Ramattra's attention the quickest.

A human darling would take longer so as an Omnic you'd be trusted much faster.

Ramattra's goal is to make life better for his people, he wants to save the Omnics from the abuse of their masters.

I feel you being an Omnic can go one of two ways.

You agree with Ramattra's beliefs and join his cause in Null Sector... or you don't agree and still think there can be peace between Omnics and humans.

Let's start with the first one.

Ramattra would be pleased that you agree with him and wish to join him.

I'd imagine you'd try to help Ramattra in any way you can, becoming closer and closer to the leader.

After all... you two most likely met after he saved you from being forced to do work in this variation of the story.

You feel like you owe him your life and listen to his words like a prayer.

Ramattra probably falls for you because you're so loyal towards his cause.

In his eyes, sharing a close connection to you is proof Omnics are more than robotic slaves.

Ramattra may try to make you see his romantic feelings.

He takes you aside and tries to influence romantic feelings in you, or see if it's possible.

You do feel like you appreciate and owe Ramattra but the idea of something like this makes you unsure.

However, your leader tries to convince you there's nothing to fear.

Embracing such feelings with each other will prove that you are more than machine.

Ramattra is a charismatic leader with a noble goal, he'd use this to his advantage to gain his darling's trust and affection.

Why do you seem so hesitant?

Do you not trust him to care for you?

He tries to reassure you he'll always care for you, that he thinks you're worthy of forming such a connection with him.

Romantic attraction between Omnics is probably rare, but there has been instances of platonic connections before.

Maybe you see him as a brother in arms or beliefs, while he wants to challenge that for something more.

You're free, you can choose your own life.

So why don't you choose a new life with him?

He's your savior, yeah?

If you don't believe in his cause it's similar but more violent.

Ramattra would think that you're simply blinded by your masters.

You just don't know what's best for you as an Omnic.

You may think you have human friends, ones who care about you.

They don't.

Ramattra thinks it's the right thing to do when he barges into where you reside.

He thinks it's fine to slaughter the lives of your human friends.

So what if their blood coats the ground and walls?

It's nothing compared to the slaughter of your own people.

Humans can make more of themselves, Omnics cannot.

Your place is not amongst them.

Your place is with your people, with Ramattra.

Due to the lies poured into your head, there may be so trauma from seeing your past life go.

Yet Ramattra will he there to guide you to a new life, hopefully with him.

Don't look at their corpses.

Just look at him.

In either scenario, Ramattra would try to coerce you to trust him enough.

This is so he can encourage you into sharing a deeper connection with him.

Truth is, Ramattra hasn't felt anything this intense and special towards anyone else.

He didn't think he could as a War Machine.

So don't fret... it's all new to him too.

Pay no mind to the crimes he commits for you and his people.

He wants to learn how to love you... he wants to know what it feels like for an Omnic to love another Omnic.

Reproduction is impossible between you, but he still wants the connection.

In either scenario you may refuse or fear the idea.

Yet Ramattra will be here to try and guide you like he always has.

His affection towards you is mimicry, ironically that of human affection.

He tries to express his adoration for you but it's like it's not meant to be.

You feel he'd ruined you, even if you did trust him before, perhaps you wish he didn't push this so hard on you.

Overall and Omnic Darling would be more possible when it comes to Ramattra's beliefs.

Instead of forcing you to be a pet or something of the sorts like a human darling... he tries to gently push you into his love.

Regardless on if you wish to reciprocate such feelings towards him or not...

Ramattra believes you were built for one another... and he'll make you see how he sees things in the end no matter the cost.

#yandere overwatch #yandere overwatch 2 #yandere ramattra

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discobiscotto · 3 months

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Just Guys Bein’ Dudes: A Needlessly Huge TED-Talk About Luca & Alberto’s Relationship

Ready for some big-brain BS?

Well, ready or not, here’s a “little” dive into how I interpret/perceive Luca and Alberto’s relationship.

Note: I’m referring to them as my own headcanon versions of them as men. It can certainly be applied to them as young adults and teens for sure, but I’m diving into ‘Ciao Luca’ territory specifically. So, there, just being clear on the who’s who.

What’s their deal anyhow?

Are they romantic partners? Are they attracted to eachother, yanno 👉🏻👈🏻? Buddies? Buddies with benefits? Are they even a couple? Are they husbands? What’s their deal?

So, a couple years ago when I was starting to get really busy with the headcanons, I went on a tear about their relationship to lay down some kind of clear foundation for it. I felt alittle conflicted at the time about how their relationship was going to feel/act like.

To me, because I love ambiguity, I wanted to keep that energy going from the original source material…but with alittle “oomph”…considering there’s been time and maturity tacked on. They can’t just be Pallin’ Around forever, something’s gotta give with chemistry that strong imo.

If I’m being honest, them being point-blank romantic partners felt too cliched and predictable/boring. Courtship, wooing, marriage…snore. It just didn’t feel like ‘them’ to me. It bordered heteronormative somehow. I was just …PUTTING MYSELF TO SLEEP.

Not to say they aren’t romantic, because they certainly are in their own right! It just isn’t the defining Vibe of their relationship.

As a queer lady with a pretty open mind in terms of what defines a relationship and/or bond, I believe that love expression is on a spectrum. Different strokes for different folks, yanno?

I scooted myself over to that old filing cabinet in my brain with random Greek Philosophy tid-bits (that I was impressed wasn’t put thru the incinerator) and I got polishing.

I remembered a few terms, like storge (family love), Eros: romantic, mania: obsessive/stalkerish love, agape, philia, the list goes on.

We’re gonna focus on PHILIA, typically deemed affectionate and/or “brotherly love”, I think also falls under platonic love.

We’re going to come back to this later☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻

As a couple of seamonsters (first and foremost) the human concept of love may not necessarily compute to them. Not that they get confused or turn their nose up at it, but rather it’s more boxed-in and rigid than, I guess, fish love? Haha.

Example: homosexuality, bisexuality, and heterosexuality as concepts are human inventions to help humans navigate their life and their identity in the world, be part of a tribe, and potentially find mates.

They’re social constructs, like gender conformity, and Mondays.

Seamonsters really don’t have that. They’re similar to humans in alot of ways, but in terms of attraction, love, and social awareness, they just kindof ride the wave and go where the current takes them.

Opposite sex pairings likely happen more often because [gestures] instincts and Makin’ Fries. But just like humans, same sex relationships happen just as much!…but seamonsters have no concept of homophobia (strictly a human invention) so there’s no discouragement or imposed fear of the relationship…it just happens if it’s meant to and the world keeps spinning. [deep sighs]

Luca and Alberto are aware of human society and customs (especially now that they’ve been living amongst them for atleast 15 years). So, they still try to do-as-the-humans-do sometimes. They know that they feel a strong bond to eachother that can’t be ignored, and when humans sense a similar bond between each other they express it by being physically intimate, or giving gifts, or creating things for eachother, etc.

So, basically, it boils down to “I love my friend, so I wish to express that love for him like that [gesture].”

Now bringing it back to Philia up there!👆🏻

That particular source defines philia as brotherly love, both must be men (in the Greek system), they respect and take pleasure in eachother’s company, bond through exploring philosophical truths, and sexual intimacy or attraction is optional.

This other source takes it a bit further saying that we could be diving into “friends to lovers” territory which is the aforementioned “oomph” I was referring to. The bridge into Eros stuff without being completely rooted there (ie your usual romantic pair).

Their relationship isn’t based on physical attraction, but began as a close friendship that progressed into something more. Not built on lust, but on mutual affection and respect for eachother.

They are an “unlikely” pair. Where a hockey hug became alittle tighter, and the joined hands in a good old “Piacere Girolamo Trombetta” started to linger.

They feel safe with eachother, they love and prefer eachother’s company, they share eachother’s worlds and feel deeply connected in them. Alberto cooks meals for them because he loves Luca, and Luca gives Alberto [SPOILER] because he loves him back.

They share a “I can’t quite put my finger on it but I feel safe, warm, and happy with you, I enjoy your company and what we have, I love the feeling of you being close to me, exchanging warmth and heartbeats, and I feel like this is more than going out on dates or ‘picking out curtains’.” kind of thing.

They’re roommates who kiss and “play house”. They are in love…but express it in their own unique way. They are openly affectionate. They keep people guessing, they confuse the neighbors, they have an “inside joke”.

Alberto lays on the housewife schtick: straightening Luca’s tie and sending him on his way with a packed lunch.

They call eachother heteronormative terms of endearment, mostly to be cheeky. Sarcastic “Honey” or “Dear” followed by someone affectionately ending up in a headlock.

They love to play with the human version of “married life”, little do they realize they’ve grown genuinely accustomed to it.

They’re queer but have no name and nowhere they’d rather be except each other’s arms (that one place that makes perfect sense).

They aren’t married…they never can get married…but that doesn’t stop them from sharing their homes, their beds, and a last name written on their Christmas cards.

In conclusion, humans say they’re gay.

The Paguro’s say “They built a farm together.”

SOURCES:

#luca #luberto #luca1970s #discobiscotto design notes #greek philosophy #headcanon #ciaolucafic #i want what these bitches have #ciaoluca #ciao luca #older!alberto #i want what they have #older!luca #old lady yells at cloud #I want what they have and so do you

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xalygatorx · 3 months

Text

Unbound | Chapter 18, "Bard Dance" (End of Act 1)

Áine Ts'sambra—a wayward half-drow bard with a painful past—has her world upended when she's snatched up by a Nautiloid ship and furnished with a tadpole to the brain. In her journey to remove the infestation before it can turn her and her newfound companions illithid, she not only finds that their solution has more layers to parse through than she can count, but that a particular vampire in her party does as well.

Unbound is an ongoing generally SFW medium-burn romance based in the world of Baldur's Gate 3 between Astarion and a female OC. Any NSFW content will be marked in the Warnings section. Contains angst, fluff, explorations of trauma, spice, graphic fantasy violence, and a guaranteed happy ending.

For anything additional on what to expect (and not expect), check the preface post.

Summary: Before bringing Nere’s head to Spaw and leaving the Underdark, Áine, Astarion, and the party take an evening just to have a bit of fun. Astarion actively tries to be romantic. The private gesture gets blown into a party of sorts by the couple’s heavily imbibed friend group. Astarion and Áine end up having an even more private moment together. The group readies themselves the next morning to continue their journey down the path to Moonrise Towers.

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!OC

Warnings: 18+/NSFW (cunnilingus); fluff of the romantic and platonic varieties; alcohol; angst; bit o’ smut as a treat; blood-drinking if you squint; end of Act 1, hiatus to follow; this is extra cute to make up for the trauma of the last chapter and many of the ones to follow lmao; lightly proofread

Word Count: 8.5k

Listening to: Six Days at the Bottom of the Ocean - Explosions in the Sky, Bard Dance (from the BG3 soundtrack), I Want to Live (from the BG3 soundtrack)

Shadowheart’s shriek reverberated off the jagged cave walls around them. Its echo flung far beyond its origin.

“Áine, it’s freezing!” the cleric griped, waist-deep and shuddering in the dark water just off their campsite’s shore. Their commandeered boat bobbed at the dock nearby and a conjured netting laced with golden light roped off an area for them, stopping where the water became a bit too deep for an impromptu swimming lesson.

“Correct, so hurry up!” Áine cackled through chattering teeth, looking positively mad as she chafed her arm with one hand and held out her other. She’d plunged in completely straight away to try and acclimate to the water faster, but she wasn’t sure yet if that’d been her best bet. “Just like I showed you, you’ll be okay.”

“Why couldn’t we have done this when we were topside?” Shadowheart growled as she lowered herself further into the water, shuddering visibly as she mimicked the motions Áine had shown her and started to wade out to the waiting bard.

“Because at our only notable opportunity, you decided you’d rather try making out with me,” Áine remarked, dodging an armful of water that her friend flung at her for her cheek. “Hey, look at you! Only one arm left paddling and you didn’t sink!”

“Is that meant to be funny?” Shadowheart asked, her voice strained as she worked to keep her head above the water.

“Yes and no,” Áine said, smiling as she scooped Shadowheart up under her arms when the cleric managed to swim her way out to her. “I mean it when I say you’re getting the hang of this, you adjusted really well when you moved your arm to splash me.”

Shadowheart let Áine swim both of them back to the shore, her arms and legs wrapped around her friend like a toddler on her hip. She was gratified by the praise, but too cold to relish it. “You’re not going to make me do it again, are you?” she asked.

“No, we’re both goners if we stay out here any longer,” Áine said, shivering as she walked them back up the shoreline. “But I did want you to at least know the basics. Just in case.”

“I think I’m already a goner,” Shadowheart complained, her teeth chattering as she buried her face against Áine’s shoulder, desperate for warmth and only finding the bard’s wet shirt.

“I’ll save you!” Áine cried, sprinting back to the campfire while she and Shadowheart rattled out giggles between their violent shudders.

Gale was in his usual spot stooped over the cooking pot when the girls came tearing back up from the beach. “Mystra’s left nostril,” he swore with a chuckle as he braced for potential impact and any scattered showers that rained off them in passing.

Áine dodged past Gale, plopped Shadowheart down near Wyll, and seated herself next to Astarion, who gave her half-drowned form a horrified look. “You went in with all your clothes on?!”

“Look, it wasn’t our best plan, alright?” Áine griped back, getting as close to the fire as she could without setting herself ablaze.

Her heart warmed when she spotted Wyll snagging a blanket and draping it over Shadowheart’s vibrating shoulders from the corner of her eye. She’d seen them occasionally making eyes at each other over the past few days on their journey back to the circle and then to collect the enslaved gnomes and Nere’s head at the Grymforge. Being the romantic that Wyll was, he’d perfectly picked up on every opportunity she granted him to make a bit of a blush rise to Shadowheart’s face.

Meanwhile, her own lover—keeper of her soul, love of her life, et cetera—was cringing away from her dripping clothes and hair with something close to disdain. Áine gave him a withering look as Shadowheart thanked Wyll for his show of chivalrous care nearby. “See that? That’s the correct response,” she needled Astarion, mostly teasing him.

His eyes flickered past her to Wyll and Shadowheart. Astarion scoffed when he returned his eyes to her. “It’s not my fault you chose to give yourself hypothermia, darling,” he teased her back, his lips curling in a half-sneer.

Áine sniffed and glared, and Astarion only just had time to clock the calculation that flashed through her eyes before she pivoted and tackled him back into the dirt. Although she was attacking him, Astarion still managed to make sure she landed on top of him and didn’t hurt herself. He knew she was sturdier than he treated her, but he was protective of her to a fault and he’d not yet fully shaken the scare that had been their near-death at the spectator’s teeth and tentacles mere days ago at that point.

When she raised herself off him, her eyes dropped to the wet spot she’d left on his shirt, which had been her original goal for retaliation. What she hadn’t expected was for the moisture to soak from her shirt to his in an exact imprint of her breasts and stomach. Her features pulled tight as she fought off laughter, especially when Astarion looked down at himself and saw why she was suddenly so amused.

“Are you quite pleased with yourself?” Astarion scolded her, causing her to finally break apart into her hardly restrained fit of laughter. He tickled her sides until she fell off him, rolling to loom over her on the ground as he continued to playfully berate her for getting him all wet too.

Behind him, their friends’ eyes softened at the sight of them teasing each other and at how absent Astarion’s mask had been of late. Even just around them, he was finally starting to become more transparent in his opinions and feelings, little did he know. With a fond smirk, Gale loosed a rush of air from his palm that swept the clinging moisture from Shadowheart’s, Astarion’s, and Áine’s clothes. “Soup’s on!” he announced.

The news of supper brought their remaining companions to the fire and Astarion allowed Áine up after dropping a kiss to the tip of her nose. They reclaimed their seats beside the crackling blaze, assuming their newly practiced dinnertime juxtaposition while the broth and bread were parsed out.

There was next to nothing to hunt in the Underdark for Astarion and they expected it to be a similar situation when they passed into the shadow-cursed lands past the lift in the Grymforge. Because of that, Áine had been assisting their resident vampire more and more with his thirst and had even coaxed him out to “dine” with the larger group in recent evenings.

While Áine sat facing the fire, Astarion sat beside her but faced away from the flames, gratefully accepting her wrist when she offered it to him. There were times that he still preferred to make this trade snuggled up with her in his—their—tent, but there was also something strangely affirming about being able to join everyone for their dinnertime. He still occasionally felt anxious about it, but turning away for a bit of privacy helped. They all knew of his condition, but he was still wary of glancing up from his feeding and finding a horrified expression staring back at him.

Astarion licked her wound closed when he was done, gently squeezing her hand while he still held it in his. Áine extracted her hand just to gently press it against his cheek, drawing him sideways to tenderly kiss his hair. With Astarion taken care of, Áine began to assuage her own hunger with the soup and bread that Halsin had set down for her while she was tending to their vampire.

Astarion felt his new store of blood rush into his cheeks at the gesture, suddenly glad yet again that he wasn’t facing their companions. It felt so natural that, weeks back, he may have feared its ease. Now though he simply relished it. In a similar vein, he wouldn’t admit it, but there was more than a simple affirmation that came from feeling included here—fleetingly, he dared to wonder if this was what family had felt like once.

A sweeping, alien melody wove through the air above them, the faint shimmer of spores glittering when the embers caught them just so. “The gnomes must have made it back to the circle,” Áine inferred, smiling a little at the resonant expressions of joy and victory interspersed between the flowing melodies. “Spaw must’ve been told that Nere’s no more.”

“It’s strange how much can be understood from…well, could we even call it a language really?” Wyll wondered aloud, studying the clusters of spores as he bit into his bread.

“Music is its own language,” Áine insisted, mesmerized by the sounds. She felt Astarion turn back around beside her to face the fire again. “Some songs are just easier for us to understand.”

“It’s odd,” Shadowheart mused, snaring Áine’s gaze meaningfully. With the intensity of her stare, Áine half-expected the cleric to bring up something more dire, but she simply continued to speak on their surroundings. “Despite the allure of its dark beauty, I’d never ventured into the Underdark before. But it’s truly beautiful in so many unexpected ways.”

“I’ve been down here a handful of times, but never at length,” Áine admitted, faltering when she felt a prod at her tadpole. Unsure how exactly she knew, it felt, somehow, like it had come from Shadowheart’s.

Bewildered, Áine opened her mind and heard the cleric’s voice speak within her head. “Keep talking,” she instructed. “Just trust me.”

Áine cleared her throat and added almost mindlessly, “And mostly for supplies or to skim off the Zhentarim’s stashes. I really had no idea how far it expanded though and, as you’ve said, how lovely it can look.”

Gale thankfully picked up the conversation and allowed Áine to wonder at what Shadowheart was doing, sitting in her head like this between their parasites. She didn’t have long to wonder as a vision bloomed in her mind’s eye. Shadowheart’s vantage point became hers and through it, she saw…

Áine’s heart threatened to break under the heft of the emotions that flooded it.

Shadowheart kept her eyes trained on Áine and Astarion and, through her eyes, Áine saw herself glancing between Gale and Shadowheart while Astarion just looked at her.

His crimson eyes rounded with a gentle openness that had become more and more prominent in their time together, a far cry from the narrow, choreographed sneers he used to default to, which were different than his actual sneers (which, to be fair, she did still see a fair bit of). A faint, lingering ghost of a smile touched his perfectly bowed lips as he just watched her in what she could only define as fascination. She’d seen him look at her like that before, much more briefly, but it was something else to see them through someone else’s eyes when his guard was fully down.

“I told you,” Shadowheart informed her smugly.

Áine felt herself blush and then saw herself blush through the cleric’s shared gaze. “Thank you for that,” she told Shadowheart. “I’ll stop my spying though.”

“Understood,” Shadowheart replied and Áine heard the echo of a soft internalized chuckle in her head before the cleric fully withdrew and her mind was her own again.

She glanced over to Astarion, catching him in his doe-eyed stare and smiling toward him. He seemed unsure of how he felt about being caught, but his expression only incrementally changed as he traced the flush of her cheeks with his vibrant eyes. “You’re blushing,” he pointed out, a faint smirk curling the corner of his mouth.

Áine smiled, gently cupping his cheek. “And you’re lovely.” Astarion’s face warmed under her hand and she laughed. “Shall I point out that you’re blushing now too, or—?”

“Hush,” he chided her, glancing away to hide the flush of his face against one of his large, dextrous hands. Astarion chanced a glance back at her when she didn’t look away, finding her watching him with a mix of amusement and, if he was bold enough to presume it, love. His chest warmed over and he sighed, turning to meet her stare. “You, my dear, will be the second death of me.”

Áine’s smile turned a touch guilty. “Sorry.”

A soft puff of an exhalation exited Astarion’s nose, the barest beginning of a chuckle. “Don’t be.”

At some point in the night, someone broke into the wine stashes. A drink with the evening meal wasn’t unusual in the group, at least for the majority of their party, but there was a different sort of tension in the air that night. A tension of celebrating well-earned victories, of their looming progression into a new leg of their journey and likely the most dangerous yet, and the acknowledgment that, as ever, nothing was promised.

Karlach’s boisterous laugh ricocheted off the dark cavern walls, a bottle of ithbank clutched in her hand just long enough to take another swig and set it back down before her heat began to melt the glass. Áine laughed softly in turn, her head pleasantly swimmy while she let the cross-talk of several quiet camp conversations swirl around her like the most comfortable background noise. This was her new family and it truly felt like a family. Her only hope was that this sense would last through their journey into the cursed expanse of her birthplace, but she tried not to think about it. If she did, she’d spoil this taste of peace, herself.

Áine tilted her head back as Astarion approached, giving her a humored look after evaluating the half-empty bottle of mermaid whiskey near her hip. She gave him a playful gasp and mused aloud, “Look, the stars are out again!”

Astarion rolled his eyes and bent down to scoop her to her feet, eying her as she swayed a bit. “Are you stable?” he asked, holding back a laugh.

“Physically or mentally?” she asked, forcing a serious expression on her features that only half-succeeded. “Or emotionally?” Before he could answer, she gave a little flip of her hands. “No matter what you pick, the answer is ‘probably’?”

Astarion snorted. “Good enough for me,” he remarked, taking her hand. “Come.”

“Where are we going?” she asked, gently playing with his fingers while they walked. He led her down to the lakeshore, the prints she’d left earlier from running back to the fire with Shadowheart still faintly depressed in the wet sand.

Away from the light pollution of the fire, the Underdark’s makeshift sky blossomed with sprinkled light and color. The bioluminescent spores had swirled so voluminously from the circle just up the hill that they’d drifted down to their campsite, their gentle sweeping songs still lacing the air with palpable sensations of triumph. The spores in all their glowing glory patched a living starscape above them, the myconids’ singing in perfect syncopation with the flux of the motes that carried them.

Áine sighed, her heart clenching. “It’s so beautiful,” she said, still toying with Astarion’s fingers as they took in the view together. The black water lapped placidly against the sand nearby while the laughter and merriment of their friends still met their ears, just sweetly dampened by the rocky ledge separating the couple from them now.

“It is striking,” Astarion agreed, his eyes tracing past the dancing motes to the rocky ceiling above. “But it’s no replacement for real stars. For the moon. The sunlight.”

Áine glanced up at him. “What was it like?” she asked, holding his gaze when he looked down at her. “To feel the sun again for the first time in over 200 years and not burn?”

Astarion’s gaze unfocused as he remembered. “Terrifying. And then…exhilarating.” He sighed, his grip around her hand tightening with his impassioned tone. “The first instinct was to flee. Then the realization came that it would’ve been too late by that point—if I were going to burn, I would be burning. And then of course I wondered if I had died. Again. And then I just felt warm.”

Áine’s heart fluttered at the memory he painted, at how she imagined his cool skin would have felt being kissed by the sun again after so long. That flutter became a sting as it occurred to her that his previous sources of warmth in his new life would have all come at a cost—his only warm blood from rancid rats half-dead with disease, his only comfort from the tattered brown blanket he still had with him to this day or against a body he hadn’t chosen for himself.

She’d not known for the majority of her lifetime to crave sunlight and the underelf blood in her had shied from it, but ever since she’d escaped her old life, it had been a daily blessing to feel its rays. She’d been ungrateful, all things considered. Privileged. She’d never considered before meeting him how lucky she was to simply be allowed to exist in the daytime.

“You must miss it,” she suggested with open sympathy.

“I do,” he said. “This place is filled with color and its own sort of light, but it’s not quite the same. I’d just gotten the daylit world above us back, had just remembered for the first time in so, so long how much color there is in the world, and it’s gone again. For a while at least.”

“I used to be skeptical of your interest in keeping the parasite,” Áine said, which was no revelation to either of them. Her skepticism had never been hidden in their conversations. “I still am, but only because I worry about you. But I understand why you’d want to hold onto what it gives you.”

Astarion nodded. “It has protected me from the sun, from rushing water, from Cazador’s clutches, from everything the way nothing else ever has,” he agreed. The line of his mouth formed a more bitter curve. “The way no one else ever tried.”

Áine turned to face him, slipping her other hand into his as well. “I wish someone had. I would do…anything to be able to have helped you.”

Her conviction clawed at him. “You hardly existed for the majority of it, darling,” he reminded her.

“I know,” she said, her shoulders giving a helpless lift. “But I can’t help but feel let down on your behalf. The strong have a duty to protect those in need.”

“I thought it was ‘to protect the weak’?” he countered.

“It’s too much of a generalization,” she said, frowning. “There is no weakness in needing help. The strongest people are born from positions of weakness.”

“Perhaps that’s why they’re left to rot,” Astarion mused. “The ‘strong’ of society has never been made up of true advocates. They retain their position for themselves. This is the way the world turns.”

The bard sighed. “You aren’t wrong. I know you’re not wrong because I’ve seen it firsthand, too. But I wish you were. I hope someday the world changes enough that you are.”

Astarion scoffed, but it was softened by a faint smile. Despite the fractured state of his lover’s rose-colored glasses, she still managed to look through the pink-tinted shards when she gazed upon a world he saw as forsaken. He shouldn’t have been so discouraging of it, he supposed. She may not have given him the time of day had she not maintained so much quiet hope in other people. Still, when he watched her extend that goodwill to others that he wasn’t so sure would return it, it made him uneasy.

Disliking the somber air that had fallen over their heads, especially considering why he’d guided her out there in the first place, Astarion freed one of Áine’s hands, using the other to swing her into a little spin. The tipsy bard stumbled a little over the sudden movement but righted herself easily enough and regarded him with curiosity when he drew her close and placed his hand against her waist.

“Look, I don’t profess to be any sort of twinkle-toes like our Wyll,” he said as he guided her through some slowed-down dance steps. “However what sort of former society elite would I be if I didn’t at least know my way around a simple waltz?”

Áine grinned, looping her free arm around his shoulders and happily leaning into his lead. “I had no idea,” she said, her cheeks flushed a decadent red.

“Nor I, to be honest,” Astarion admitted as he spun her again, smiling as she gracefully followed his hand and returned to him in one fluid motion. “Not until I specifically tried to evoke the muscle memory.”

“What inspired that?” she asked.

Astarion shrugged and simply replied, “You told me you enjoy dancing,” as if it were all the reason he needed. Maybe it was.

Áine’s heart melted and it translated to her expression. It stirred that familiar warmth in Astarion’s chest, but he didn’t shy away from it. He just continued to lead her through their dance on the lakeshore, twirling her this way and that and humoring her by letting her spin him on occasion, too. She hummed them a soft melody to dance to and they swore the myconids’ melodies around them shifted to follow her song, their disembodied singing taking a slower, romantic tone.

And leave it to their drunk friends to, as Astarion at least first thought, ruin it.

“Well, isn’t this adorable,” Shadowheart mused as she and the others filed around the corner, clearly having a little spy on the couple until they’d been spotted by the vampire. “Volo, why don’t you give them some music?” She hiccuped partway through her question.

“If it wasn’t abundantly clear from my, er, performance at that goblin hovel, I am no bard,” Volo insisted to the heavily imbibed cleric. “However, that’s never stopped me before.” From the self-proclaimed expert-on-everything’s extended hand rose a transparent blue replica of that same hand, the apparition then parting into two while a similarly ghostly violin settled in its hold.

“Room for an ensemble?” Gale wondered as he, with admittedly more finesse, also conjured a pair of mage hands, his positioning a flute between their magical fingers.

“Can’t let us have one moment, can you?” Astarion groused as Áine giggled and the phantasmic floating appendages with their instruments began to sync into a rendition of the classic “Bard Dance” song.

Instead of shying from Astarion’s theatrical upset, the conjured ensemble and their beloved party swept into the heart of the song. Karlach shuffled her feet, kicking up small clouds of sand as she danced on her own, at least until Wyll stepped in line with her and followed her often idly improvised steps after a bit of quick study. With a fond look from the sidelines, Halsin stood with Lae’zel and clapped in time with the melody. Even the githyanki beside him seemed to relax enough to enjoy the admittedly absurd scene before her. Scratch and the owlbear cub ran circles around Karlach’s dancing feet and Wyll left the tiefling with her new partners to snag Shadowheart and tug her away from her perch for a dance.

“Wyll!” the cleric cried, laughing as she half-struggled to twist away from the sudden spotlight. Astarion was gearing up to mock her when he felt similarly swept up in a more upbeat dance.

“This is not what I had in mind,” Astarion groused with less fervor down at his little bard, who was now leading him into step with the new tempo and with the silliest grin plastered across her whiskey-flushed face. “Unhand me!” he haughtily demanded, but the joking demand crumbled with a laugh.

As the myconids’ songs intertwined with their merriments and laughter, harmonizing with the conjured melody with renewed felicity, the two resident ancients stood watch, observing the beings on the beach that, compared to them, were all infants in this corporeal plane. It was a rare moment of unbridled happiness and fun before them, made only more rare to the knight and the aged god who both knew to some degree what was to come.

“They shall remember this,” Withers murmured to the ghostly knight nearby. “Thine fates have formed nigh impossible junctures, a tangled web extending ever further into darkness.”

“Aye,” the knight rumbled, his arms crossed before him with his palms stacked atop the hilt of his blade. Incandescent eyes watched the smiles that blossomed from each strange being down on the sand, watching the half-drow bard prancing her vampire partner around in time to the bouncy music. She threw her head back and laughed at something he said and he smiled down at her as if she were the very sun he missed so much—positively enraptured and basking in her warmth. “Isn’t it all the more prudent then that they have this? The darkness will wait.”

Withers gave a grumble of acknowledgment. “And wait, it shall.”

No one noticed the line that was crossed that turned the energetic, musically drunken “night” in the Underdark into a messy, sleepy drunken “night.” It was a line that was always crossed in these sorts of scenarios, but sometimes there was at least one person able to pinpoint which goblet was the “one goblet too many.”

Perhaps Astarion, the only sober individual left down on the lakeshore by that point, may have been able to had he not gotten wrapped up in Áine’s charms and opted not to leave for the remainder of the night. Carefully sidestepping over a prone and passed-out Karlach and then past Wyll, who’d dozed off slumped against a rock, Áine was having to keep a hand pressed to her mouth to stifle her giggles at the state of their friends.

Astarion relieved her of that duty when they made it back up the short path to camp, capturing her lips and kissing her through her tipsy laughter, smirking as he felt her become far more interested in kissing him back than paying attention to where she was going. After the second time she stumbled over her own feet, Astarion scooped her off of them to carry her the rest of the way to their tent. Her legs wrapping around his waist to hold on drew a quiet growl from the base of his throat.

As his kisses grew hungrier, his tongue parted her plush lips and explored her yielding mouth in tender, languid strokes. He felt heat lance through him at the muffled sound and sensation of her moan, but he was wary of that heat, too. As he ducked through their tent door and took them both down to the floor, seated while keeping her straddling his lap, Astarion tried to put his feelings into context, finding it more difficult when Áine was giggly and encouraging and strewn across his thighs.

Bleeding Hells, he wanted to fuck her but was wary of what they’d discussed. The sensation he felt at times of “going through the motions” would often come partway through when he couldn’t find it in himself to, as he saw it, ruin the mood by stopping. He’d withdraw within himself, present but not, until it was over. He wouldn’t jeopardize the high of euphoria he was feeling just from kissing her by being thoughtless about this.

Unhelpfully, Áine smirked into their kiss and purposely cut her lower lip against one of his fangs, raising herself up and pressing herself against him as she tilted his head back and kissed him hard enough for those small beads of blood to trickle into his mouth. Astarion growled again, equal parts feral in lust and exasperated by trying to be the adult in the room. In retaliation, he clapped a hand against her ass just hard enough to startle her. The muffled yelp that passed from her lips past his made him chuckle.

One step at a time, he decided, sucking the cut on her lip until it was bruised and then sealing it with a purposeful flick of his tongue.

Astarion gripped Áine’s hips and shifted her off his lap and onto her bedroll, snorting softly at the pout she gave him. “None of that, darling,” he rasped.

Áine smiled cheekily and nodded. “No, no, I get it. Sorry, I just—Astarion!”

“Hm, yes?” he murmured, already half-done with untying her shirt laces, nimble fingers flying down the fabric collar.

“What are you doing?” Áine asked, suddenly breathless. She looked up at him with a mix of curiosity, concern, and arousal. He could smell that she was already wet for him, that familiar, decadent perfume always doing the most dangerously delicious things to his mind. One step at a time, he repeated fervently, his hands fisting a little harder than necessary in Áine’s shirt as he freed her from it.

“Is this okay?” Astarion asked, practiced hands tracing down to the ties of her pants next.

“Well, yes, but—” She gave a surprised grunt when he managed to untie her trousers and pull them off her in a few small, simple movements. “But what about you? Are you okay?”

Astarion, still fully clothed and intending to stay that way, traced her form with his eyes, pupils blown out with his craving and shadowing the crimson hue of his gaze. He leaned forward, crawling just a little closer to her as he murmured, “I’m very okay with this, my love.”

For just a second, Áine wondered if he’d just forgotten to take off his clothes. She only had a second to wonder before he smirked down at her, wrapped his large hands around her calves, and tugged her forward so she fell onto her back into the pillows.

Suddenly self-aware at how exposed she was in this new vulnerable position, Áine knocked her knees together, her face burning up. Astarion gave her a chiding glance, his fingertips tracing up her shins to those offending knees, tracing the caps. “I, um…,” Áine stammered, not sure what to say. Whatever this was was certainly new to her and desire fanned the growing flames in her belly, but she still worried. “Are you… You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, you know.”

Astarion’s smirk grew wider and his restless fingertips pried her knees apart. “I know, darling,” he husked, bowing lower as he slipped her legs over his shoulders. “Anything else?”

His last question had sent his cool breath fanning across her core and it shot a shiver up her spine. “Um,” she murmured, her voice trembling as she sent an embarrassed glance to the tent ceiling, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. Finally, she let out a nervous giggle and surrendered. “I-I guess not—oh!”

He’d wasted no time the moment she handed him her remaining control. He was on her like a man starving, his hands digging into her hips to hold her in place as he devoured her. Astarion had never been more present during an act of carnal intimacy, learning his way along her glistening folds by chasing every whimper and moan that he helped ease from her lips.

Astarion had pulled her closer to him, adjusting the angle of her hips as he swirled his tongue against her swollen clit, when he heard her clap a hand over her mouth to stifle her building moans. He made a disgruntled sound against her, pulling his mouth off her bud with a purposefully lewd suck to tease her as he reached up for her wrist. “Ah-ah, darling,” he tutted up at her, brushing the bridge of his nose over her mound and eliciting a small spasm that rocked through her legs. Astarion smirked, pleased at the effect he had on her. “I want to hear you.”

“But our friends,” she whined, casting a furtive glance toward the tent door. “What if—”

“Our friends know enough to excuse some noise every so often,” he chuckled, laving a slow line up her slit and flicking his eyes up toward her face. He felt blessed to meet her eyes as he did and more blessed to see how flustered watching him go down on her made her. “The ones who aren’t blacked out for the eve will be reassured that I take good care of you, won’t they?”

Áine could feel her pulse hammering in her neck, truly speechless for perhaps the first time in her entire life. Gods above, he was going to ruin her like he’d accused her of ruining him. She was already practically shaking. If she didn’t try to stifle the moans he was pulling out of her, she’d wake the entire Underdark! Just the thought was enough to make her panic a little. “But I—”

“Won’t they?” he repeated in a firmer tone that still came out almost like a purr.

“I—,” Áine started, slowly letting her head fall back into place against the pillows. “Um…yes?”

“That’s my good girl,” he murmured, rewarding her with another swirl of his tongue against her clit. He felt her thighs tighten against his head the slightest bit and chuckled softly. “That do something for you, darling?”

“Apparently?!” she squeaked, learning more about herself tonight than she was learning about him.

Astarion couldn’t help the laugh that trickled past his lips, moving the hand he still had snared in his to cover one of her breasts. “Busy those hands somewhere other than your mouth, sweetheart,” he mumbled before returning his focus between her legs.

Áine looked down at where he’d left her to cup her own breast, at first thinking it a little unorthodox but trusting his lead. She’d played with herself a little in the past, but given her minimal interest in sex before catching feelings for him, it hadn’t done much for her at the time. She might’ve laughed at herself for the doubtful look she cast down at her own chest if she weren’t so self-conscious. Experimentally, Áine rolled the hardened peak of her nipple between her fingertips, her throat convulsing when the sensation was elevated by the havoc Astarion was wreaking below her with little more than his lips and silver tongue.

She’d no sooner thought that than he sank one long finger inside her and she reflexively moved to stifle her sounds again. Her hands stilled as he grumbled at her again and she exhaled a shuddering breath as she followed his instructions and melded her palms against her aching breasts, feeling silly until any coherent thought she could’ve reserved for self-depreciation became impossible.

Astarion surprised her by moaning against her sensitive juncture, seeming to be enjoying this as much as she was as he continued to lick at her clit while he pumped his finger steadily into her heat. Áine had devolved into a writhing, mewling mess at his ministrations, her back arching as he added a second finger to plunge into her warmth.

He kissed near her bud, careful not to overstimulate her. “You take me so well, my sweet,” he murmured praise against her core, adjusting his fingers to curl upward and stroke along that magical spot at the front of her inner walls.

Áine’s hips bucked of their own accord when he stroked inside her, a wild gasp tearing from her throat that became a loud, wanton moan she couldn’t hold back if she wanted to. Astarion groaned, feeling his cock twitch, already straining against his pants. “There she is,” he purred, guiding her to her peak. “Sing for me, little bard.”

“Oh, gods, Astarion,” she whined, her hands wandering from her chest to thread through his curls as he returned his mouth to her clit. The combined sensation of his mouth on her and his fingers in her was overwhelming and she was sure she’d never swept toward coming undone so intensely before. “I… I think I—”

“Go on, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Come for me, love.”

Those little words snapped her final threads and she shattered with a cry, gasping his name as she gradually came down, doing everything she could not to grip his pretty curls as she tensed and unraveled from the inside. Astarion eased her through her orgasm, slowing his touches until he leaned his head away, watching the slow withdrawal of his fingers from her clenching cunt, wet with her pleasure.

A genuinely rakish smirk crossed his lips as he pressed the pad of his thumb against her inflamed clit, murmuring understanding as she whimpered and knowing she must be terribly sensitive after all this. He eased his hand away after the applied pressure succeeded in sending a quick succession of aftershocks through her core, tearing a couple more delicious mewls from her. Astarion raised his two glistening fingers to his lips and slowly sucked them clean of her arousal, giving her a smug smile as he wiped his mouth.

Áine was finding it difficult to form any sort of cohesive thought pattern, but she at least had the wherewithal to form some words around her panting. Her eyes followed Astarion as he shifted her quaking legs off his shoulders and crawled up beside her to lie down. “Thank you?” she expressed with the faint air of a question, not sure if that was an appropriate response to what just happened. Astarion smiled at her affectionately and chuckled, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “But what about you?”

The extremely self-satisfied vampire propped his head up on his hand to peer at her. “What about me?” he countered, having a feeling that he knew what she was going to say.

“Can I… Can’t I do anything for you?” she asked, subconsciously rubbing her legs together as the echoes of his touch continued to ghost along the vee of her thighs. A touch of anxiety feathered in her foggy thoughts, worried suddenly that this was unfair to him even though he’d initiated it.

“Not a thing, not just yet. You can let that perfect body unwind and get some sleep,” he murmured against her temple, pulling her in to curl against his side and tugging the blankets up over her exposed flesh. He kissed her, lingering at her hairline and tenderly stroking her back until he felt her start to relax. “Thank you for trusting me, darling,” Astarion added in that same low timbre, not sure if she was still awake to hear it and not minding in either case.

Áine stirred a few solid hours’ worth of sleep after they’d retired to their tent, her dark eyes opening slowly and taking in her surroundings. Her gaze flickered upward to Astarion’s face, noting that he was still in some stage of reverie, both of his arms wrapped snugly around her. It took her a moment to remember why she’d awakened without her clothes, but as soon as she did, her face warmed over and a faint smile tugged at her lips.

And then there was that inkling of guilt being quietly resurrected. The scales felt tipped last night, at least in the way she’d come to understand intimate relations must be balanced. She knew beyond a doubt that he’d done what he’d done for her because he’d wanted to and he’d explicitly said that he didn’t want her to reciprocate just yet, but it still felt wrong to her. Maybe the way she’d learned about sex up until this point was skewed, too.

It was necessary, she realized, to be honest with herself. Last night just being about her while her male partner didn’t necessarily get off made her feel like she hadn’t done her due diligence as a woman. It was archaic and foolish and she knew precisely where it came from—watching the way her parents interacted, all the accumulative guilt trips she’d received in previous “romantic” dynamics if you could call them that. It’d taken her a while to settle down from their activities not because she wasn’t satisfied, but because she felt like she’d slacked off. Her desire for him, to please him and make him feel good, came from a place of loving him, but there was that lurking anxiety that came from darker times.

Áine was pulled from her unsettled thoughts when she felt the pad of Astarion’s thumb smooth across the furrow in her brow. She met his now-open eyes and he smiled down at her. “Well, hello, beautiful,” he murmured as he pressed a kiss to her forehead and tightened his arms to draw her in closer.

The knot in her chest eased a little just from the timbre of his voice. It slunk through her walls and curled up in her bone marrow, assuring her she was known. “I believe that’s meant to be my line,” she noted, running a hand gently through his silver curls. She gently stroked up the elven line of his ear and he shivered, giving her a pointed look. Áine just offered him a playfully smug smile. “How was your rest?”

“It was quiet,” Astarion murmured, tracing aimless patterns on her back. “Preferrable really to what it can be.” Áine had never envied the reverie state that replaced sleep for her full-blooded brethren. The nightmares she’d experienced in her first couple of years of freedom had been more than enough. Meditating through her actual memories or more vivid renditions of the things she suffered in sleep just sounded like pure hell. “Yours?”

“The same,” she said, giving her legs a little stretch before entangling them with his again. The moment stretched like she had, long and comfortably, until Áine’s insecurities crept up on her again. She wasn’t going to bring any of it up, but she could tell that he knew something was amiss when their eyes met again and she didn’t want to leave him to draw his own conclusions. “Was last night okay?” she finally asked.

“Whatever do you mean, my love?” he asked, adjusting to his side to face her and shifting her head from his shoulder to the crook of his arm.

“A couple of things, I guess,” she said, holding eye contact with him when she wanted to duck away. “The first is that I want to check on you. I know we checked in at the time and things felt right in the moment, but do you still feel good about it?”

Astarion’s eyes softened and he cupped her cheek to pull her in for a tender kiss. “Thank you,” he murmured against her lips before they parted. “I feel fine. And I feel good that I feel fine.”

Áine’s smile blossomed anew. “I’m glad. No regrets?”

“Of course not,” Astarion mumbled, almost aghast. “Let’s clear one thing completely, darling, I’ve never regretted a single thing we’ve done. Not one. I’ve just had…reactions, I suppose, at times that I haven’t felt were fair and that had nothing to do with us.” He slanted a brow at her. “Can you trust me on that?”

“Absolutely,” she said, no time lapsed for a second thought.

“Good,” he said, smoothing her hair back from her face. “Now, what else?”

Áine’s eyes fluttered closed as he ran his fingers through her hair, briefly losing her train of thought. It may have been better if that particular train of thought had stayed derailed, but she knew she needed to work on this personal insecurity she hadn’t even realized she had. She sighed and confessed, “I feel…guilty, I suppose, that last night was all about me.”

Astarion scoffed, looking confused when she opened her eyes again to peer at him. “Why would that be, my love?” he asked, experimentally stroking the line of her ear to see if it had the same effect on her that it had on him. She gave a little hum of contentment but she didn’t seem to be as sensitive there as he was.

Áine sighed again and it was a shorter, more frustrated sound. “I’m not sure I know how to put it into words in a way that doesn’t sound foolish,” she admitted.

“Just try,” Astarion suggested.

“When did our roles reverse for these sorts of conversations?” Áine wondered, leaning in to brush her nose against his.

She kept it to herself to avoid inadvertently embarrassing him, but she was immensely proud of how he was helping her navigate this. As much as he still defaulted to certain patterns while they were traveling or conversing with other people, it was clear he was actively trying to meet her in the middle when it came to handling things between them and she appreciated it more than she could properly express.

Astarion smirked. “Just now. Don’t count on it for too terribly long though, darling. I’m the hot mess of our pairing and I’m not keen to give that up yet. Far more fun, you see.”

Áine laughed, relenting when he just looked at her expectantly. “Fine,” she murmured, toying with the collar of his shirt and studying the laces as she blurted out, “I think in my limited experience with, well, having sex with men, there’s been an expectation that the man’s pleasure is more important than anything else. So I felt and still kind of feel guilty that you took care of me so diligently and I didn’t do anything for you.” She stuttered a little, quickly adding, “Even though I know you didn’t want me to and that’s completely fine! It’s just the, uh…principle, I guess. Gods, that made no sense…”

“No, it did,” Astarion murmured, wearing a thoughtful expression when she dared to meet his eyes again. He playfully pinched one of her flushed cheeks before musing, “Troubled thoughts when it comes to carnal pleasure… I believe that’s meant to be my line.”

“I’m serious, Astarion,” Áine laughed, although she did appreciate the joke.

“I know you are, sweet girl,” he mumbled into her hair as he pulled her into his chest. She wrapped her arm around his back, forgetting to not rest her hand against his covered scars. He realized he didn’t mind so much anymore. “You needn’t feel guilty for that. But I do think I understand your meaning. For whatever it’s worth, I don’t see our coupling as just a means to a climax. I think I used to think of sex in that sense, long ago, before it became painful territory, but not with you.”

Áine’s eyes were getting watery and she was just glad his face was buried in her hair and he couldn’t see. She tried to ignore the realization that even if he couldn’t see her getting teary-eyed, he could probably still smell the saline. It was hard to obscure much from his senses. “I’ll try my best to remember that,” she murmured. “Thank you for spelling it out for me. This isn’t an affirmation I expected to need.”

Astarion nodded, inhaling her scent deep into his lungs. “If it helps, my dear, I had a grand time,” he murmured, chuckling when he felt her face heat up against his cold cheek. She grumbled something barely discernable about him giggling at her expense, causing him to draw back with a dramatic gasp, which was when he finally saw that her eyes had gone glossy. “Believe it or not, love, for once I’m not exaggerating,” he insisted, unable to resist flashing her a cheeky smirk. His tone dropped to a purr as he nuzzled into her throat again and whispered, “I love all the little sounds you make for me. That the only word you can piece together as you fall apart is my name…”

“Okay, okay,” Áine stammered, beet-red. As she tried to roll away and get up, her vampire just snared her by her waist and pulled her back against him. “Astarion!”

“Just like that, darling girl,” he teased her in a sultry murmur, his tongue darting out to trace the curve of her ear. He was only further encouraged when it pulled a shiver from her smaller frame.

“You’re the worst,” Áine laughed, covering her reddened face with her hands.

“Not the worst at that, apparently,” he continued to rib her, just wriggling with her when she tried to free herself. She only ended up getting more tangled in him.

“No, you’re arguably one of the best at that and the worst part is you know it!” Áine whined. She couldn’t help but laugh when she felt his lips curve into a grin against her nape.

After he’d sobered from his teasing, Astarion traced a line up the back of her neck with the tip of his nose, kissing her hair again. “I enjoyed myself as much, if not more than I would have if we’d done more,” he informed her. “While it was difficult not to jump right in and hope for the best, I felt completely present during all of it. I’m just not quite out of the ‘motions’ with myself yet. What we did was perfect.”

Áine nodded, tilting her head to look over her shoulder at him. “I’m glad that we both enjoyed ourselves,” she murmured. “And I’m glad that you respected your boundaries. And I suppose all I can add is, well, the moment I can do something for you—”

He chuckled and kissed the rest of her statement off her lips. “I promise you will be the first to know.”

After finally making peace with rising and continuing on their way and jostling their more hungover companions from their slumbers—some of whom had eventually found their way back to their tents and some of whom had accidentally camped out on the beach—the tents were packed and the supplies secured for their short jaunt back to the circle and then for the last leg of their passage through the Underdark.

Despite knowing why they were swinging back through Spaw’s territory, Áine still picked up her rucksack as usual, flinging it open in search of her mint pouch only to shriek and drop it back to the ground.

Clutching one hand to her forehead that was somewhere between a facepalm and a way to brace herself, Áine groaned aloud at her staring friends, “Gods above, everyone, get ready to go. I need this nasty drow head out of my bag!”

Next chapter: Chapter 19, "Last Light"

End of Act 1!

Taking a hiatus to continue outlining and drafting into Act 2. Thank you for reading and for all the kind comments and feedback! x

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