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stilemawillow · 2 months

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MTIJ | Ch.30 City of Dumbassery, Here I Come

|mtij masterlist|

pairing: levi ackerman x reader

word count: 13k

summary: a girl with a variety of hidden complexes has to live with a french asshole for nine months. easy? on the surface. problematic? definitely. romantic? not too much, or at least they’d make it a point to say so everytime when asked. the end? please, their dynamic isn’t as simple as that.

warnings: nsfw content; mentions of nudity; virginity loss; oral sex (f! receiving); protected sex; explicit sexual content; reader discretion advised

A hundred-dollar question: where do people go to blow off steam when their interns weren’t back back from their vacation yet? First and foremost, never City of Dumbassery as it’s not a place for relaxation. I might’ve been its main population these days, but I fancied myself a rational person capable of making the right choices when needed. Pretend you’re not looking at my romantic history. The right choice, however, wasn’t always right in the heat of the moment, only in perspective, so we begin this scene with me, seated on Erwin Smith’s couch with Hanji Zoe and a cup of coffee.

For more information on the right-est choice I made as of late, keep watching. Or as asshole-me insists on promoting: Come see the prequel to the biggest fuck-up of this girl’s life. I, though oblivious to its imminent eventuation at the point where we start, had a vague notion of what I wanted the next few days to look like. Let’s just say, humourlessly enough, that my wildest dreams came nowhere close to the reality that would take place.

“I’m sorry about last time, (Y/N). I didn’t know about you and Eren.” Hanji’s contrite apology made my smile widen as I lifted the cup of coffee to my lips. Dismissing the fact she brought the topic right back with the intention to make amends, Hanji was a good person and clearly sincere in her ways of regarding me. Kindness was one thing, but this woman’s pure cordiality was admirable.

“It’s not a problem. I could tell it wasn’t your intention to hurt me.” The corner of my mouth twitched in self-reproach at the manipulative bullshit I let slip. Instantly, I corrected: “Not that I was hurt.” If it’d been Annie, she wouldn’t straight-up laughed. Had it been Levi, he would’ve stared at me like I was dumb for thinking him dumb enough to buy it. But this was Hanji and she just smiled reassuringly.

“You can share if you want to. That’s what I’m here for with all my friends,” she offered. It sounded tempting but I couldn’t allow myself that kind of openness yet. Annie was, as always, the only person who knew the full story in all its repulsive glory but if I wanted to preserve (Levi’s privacy) my reputation, I couldn’t tell the whole thing here. The whole thing – look at me dodging the serious parts in an attempt to make myself feel better. I couldn’t tell Hanji about my intoxicated attempt to sleep with her friend, who gave dubious if any consent. Sounded appropriately disgusting like this.

“Mike and Erwin seem like they lead pretty decent lives, though.” Redirecting the topic, ignoring everything weird, dismissing all as a dirty scheme meant to humiliate me – a methodical step-by-step guide on how to be a paranoid bitch. It would’ve been my equivalent of the Bible if I weren’t an atheist. Even if I regularly used OMG, if I had to pick a fictional character to believe was real, at least I’d pick one from a book with a legit author – something by King, Thackeray, Hemingway, Tolkien, Orwell or Hawthorne. Following that train of thought, I might as well start worshipping Mickey Mouse – it’d do me more good than the big guy with the beard who loves me but would make me suffer for all eternity for stepping out of line once. I did it a lot.

“It wasn’t always like that. Not to mention Levi was stuck in the gutter a month back.” Hanji’s words snapped me out of my daze. “I know I told you to wait for him, but I don’t trust him, so make sure you keep this conversation a secret,” she warned while leaning forward as if afraid the walls would hear. The suspense, though exaggerated and a bit comical, made me put down my coffee. “So, you know how Petra is mentioned here and there?” I nodded. “She was Levi’s fiancé. She died in a car crash last October.” I knew I should’ve reacted appropriately but I couldn’t force it quickly enough. Hanji noticed. “You don’t look shocked.”

“No, but I am surprised. A lot of things make sense now. I’m sorry for your loss.” I hastened to make a recovery to lessen the doubt along the planes of her face. A pang tugged on my heart. When I considered the alternate reality where Petra hadn’t died, the notion of Levi not arriving for his internship was incomprehensible. He’d be studying hard at home and married. No rings, no chaos, no cheating for me – yes, good, but no company around the house either, no distraction and no comfort.

“You haven’t done anything to apologise for it,” Hanji said. “Anyways. Shorty was in a really bad place the months after. Working himself to the bone, no sleep, no food, no nothing. He just had to be doing something. The one good thing that came out of it was his weekly visits to his mother.” A small pause, a moment of consideration for her and an odd feeling of fascination for me. I was soaking it up like a sponge because I was seeing, at last, his angle. “Maybe it hit him that if death came for Petra, it could come for Kuchel, too. I can’t know for sure. All I know is he exhausted himself to the point he collapsed. Unconscious for three whole days. Isabel told him he’d gotten the internship when he woke up.”

“So he used it as an escape,” I finished. It was a logical conclusion. Hanji nodded. Avoiding pain wasn’t the way but he’d been desperate to get away and the internship had been the perfect opportunity. He’d grabbed his bags, boarded the plane and then… well, had to deal with me. Not a warm welcome by any means. He hadn’t even had the energy to get angry or look like he felt anything. I hadn’t known, hadn’t cared enough to see. It made me uncomfortable to realise it.

“Flew over a whole ocean and kept working,” Hanji proceeded. “He wanted something to distract himself with. When he ran out of work because he did overtime, he started calling home more often. Vague details were all he gave, but I got the feeling he had something else to work on.” Hanji’s words made a lopsided smile kiss my lips. He’d wanted to busy himself with my well-being, but I’d taken it the wrong way, as I often did. Nowadays the matter was often used against him but never by him – wasn’t that funny?

“Becoming the spoiled brat’s babysitter,” I filled in kindly, but Hanji’s disapproving frown meant to reproach along with the eloquent gesture of her crossing her arms. I didn’t regret the way I worded it. Eren, Annie, Mikasa and my mother had often tried to make me rethink my ways, but results were yet to manifest. This story, with me as the shitty protagonist most likely to be insufferable contrary to sympathy-inducing, portrayed reality as I saw it – and reality often neglected character development.

“He never called you either, but he did mention taking care of you had the same effect as working, if not better. I felt he might find himself a friend, so I supported him. I think I made the right choice. You have a lot in common,” Hanji declared. It struck a cord – did we really? Our arguments were fire lashing out at ice – not something that happened with people got along. Levi was hard to anger whereas I had a short fuse – everything was a personal insult. No easier target than a conceited paranoid.

“On the topic of that,” I piped. “How do you forget somebody?” The question was light-hearted. I decided to dismiss the whole story so I could ponder it later. Hanji’s brows furrowed as she smiled sympathetically. She couldn’t imagine the situation well enough. The question was I over Eren? had kept at a safe distance from my mind during my birthday vacation and the beginning of August only to assault it now with pitiless ire.

Things kept coming back when I least needed them. Thoughts of the twinkle in his teal eyes or the crooked smile he always wore before a kiss, the sound of his voice – the softness he’d told me he loved me with the first time, the haunting quiver in it when we were breaking up. I woke up at night with the howl of planes taking off and landing. On some mornings, I woke up, hoping to hear a knock at the door and see his face. Would he be more tan? Would his eyes be the same? Would his hair be styled differently? Would he have grown taller?

But, (Y/N), a voice would say in my head, people don’t grow taller just like that, it’s physically impossible.

Eren can, I’d argue, because Eren is my boyfriend and he can do anything if he puts his mind to it.

But Eren wasn’t my boyfriend and he wasn’t a miracle-maker. I’d sit in bed and argue with myself that Eren would come back, that I wanted the best for him and that wasn’t me, that we were done, but that he’d still come back. He never did. A small desperate part of me still hoped for the door to open – any door. Erwin Smith’s apartment’s front door right now, even. I could almost hear his footsteps going up the stairs. I swore I could. I turned to Hanji, a naïve question – can’t you? – flickering in my orbs. She didn’t catch it.

“I’m not an expert,” she said instead. “But Levi can be of help. His coping mechanisms aren’t the best example to follow, but he has a good head on his shoulders. He just doesn’t listen to it.” She might’ve thought, with how desperate I looked, that I might cry. She didn’t know pride would rather have me rip out of my tear ducts before that happened. I didn’t cry often or in many people’s presence. That wasn’t to say I didn’t like Hanji. But Annie and, unfortunately, Levi were the exceptions here. The latter was a mystery, probably my attempt to play a damsel in distress to ask for attention. Attention and help and fucking, might as well – a kiss. Couldn’t he just kiss me sometimes without me having to be in the middle of a mood?

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t copy those coping mechanisms even if I wanted to. Work, sex and alcohol are never a good mix.” I let out an awkward string of laughter, weirded out by my abrupt disconnection from the conversation and how it turned my thoughts against me. I didn’t miss him that much. Also, he was coming home tomorrow. I had nothing to play the desperate whore for. There was the blondie. That wasn’t jealousy, though. I’d say it was my wish to prove myself better.

“Sex?” Hanji echoed with a conflicted expression.

“Sex with my father’s secretary. I think it was around May. He stormed out after calling her and came back drunk in the middle of the night,” I explained. The brown-haired woman took a second to process the story, then burst out in incredulous laughter. My brows twitched. “What’s so funny?” Was it something else or was I just weird for not thinking my father’s intern and secretary fucking the joke of the century?

“I remember him telling me about that,” she started, voice hinting at a new bout of cackling. “He went to her place for paperwork and she had her boyfriend over. They kept offering him drinks and he agreed to shut them up. Crossed the line at some point. He even got lost on his way back to the house.” I wanted to face-palm using the table and, hopefully, get myself into a coma. Was there a person on this Earth denser than me or was I a phenomenal idiot?

“Oh, God,” I muttered in a wheeze. “I’m so stupid.” Embarrassment and shame painted the tips of my ears bright crimson as I clenched my fists. Hanji patted my shoulder.

“You’re not stupid. I would’ve thought the same if I had no context. Levi would never just have a one-night stand, though. Not the type of person for it. He claims it’s the wrongest way to get over something.” Her brown eyes, previously fixed on me, were now directed at the coffee table. “Might work for you, but he most certainly hates it.” A snort was drawn from her lips as she withdrew her hand from my shoulder. I tried not to think about it, but it was inevitable. Hitch’s party, him refusing, refusing, refusing, because it would be “just like that” and “just like that” was a solution for neither of us.

“I’ll consider it,” I joked. “I was busy up until recently, but maybe university won’t be enough to distract me.” I smiled as Hanji chuckled, patting my back.

“Another boyfriend should do the trick in that case,” she said.

But I don’t want another boyfriend, I wanted to counter. I want your grumpy short friend. The thought froze me up. Asshole-me joined Hanji’s hearty chuckle. Bold of me to think it. Terrible of me to think it. Wrong of me to think it. It was complicated. If romance was not involved here, it was undeniable at this point. I could almost feel it written in capital letters on my forehead.

ATTRACTED TO LEVI ACKERMAN. VERY.

“I’m not ready for the commitment.” Was the only comment to exit my mouth due to the sudden discomfort nestling in the crevice of my ribcage. “I think,” I added awkwardly, reluctant regarding a relationship but very opinionated on the topic of engaging my father’s intern in something inappropriate that would make our relations twice as complicated as they were.

“A friend with benefits then?” Hanji’s mind-reading abilities amazed. I realised it suddenly – that it was natural, this attraction of mine, no matter how humiliating and inconvenient. It wasn’t weird and maybe it wasn’t all that wrong. It was a guy who was three years older than me who lived with me that I considered unreachable. The forbidden fruit, so to say. He was handsome, mysterious and had abs. Natural to be attracted to that. Natural to be attracted to it when I saw it every day and it saw me every day and most times it treated me with passive kindness. So there’d be no harm, I assumed, in initiating something a smidge bigger. What was stopping me? I didn’t have a boyfriend, I wouldn’t feel guilty and I wasn’t insecure because, hey, he’d kissed me last time. Obviously, I wasn’t nasty.

“Update from a virgin to a slut then?” I smirked, a decision born. Hanji’s mouth clamped shut shamefully and I laughed. “I’m kidding, calm down. It was just a joke.” I patted her back. The ring on my finger was cool to the couch and soothing. My resolve, for once, was there. I had a goal. A simple one at that – nothing dangerous. Two words: kiss Levi. I would do it because there was nothing to stop me. I mean, what was the worst that could happen?

…

Imagine an elegant expensive kitchen armed with all kinds of top-quality appliances. Paradise for all little housewives who greet their husbands with a warm meal. I wasn’t that type and the fact I spent four hours cooking more food than a family of six could eat didn’t make me one either. Judging was futile because I took care of that myself during the whole process. Currently, the fruit of my effort sat in front of me – a full three-course meal with different forks to go with the high-class atmosphere. I was far from a successor of Gordon Ramsay, but I outdid myself this time. Why? Last-minute anxiety maybe. Or fear. I needed a distraction because the thought of Eren wouldn’t stop pestering me. Added to that was the fact my father could walk in without Levi. Asshole-me didn’t help.

Bet on the outcome now! A once-in-a-lifetime offer that provides an endless amount of entertainment for the whole family! Fifty bucks says a discount version of William will use the vanishing potion and fly back to France! The other side of the bet? Sorry, I don’t know her. With such a commentator, it was early to skip the food and go straight to consuming my fingernails. Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock. Place your bets right now, your bets need to go in the ballot box, quickly fill out the slips and put them in! Will he go or yes? And what’s the sweat for, princess? Don’t we like watching history repeat itself? I love it. So bet, bet, bet, bet! Come on, faster! If I had a penny for each time your father’s intern left you in the summer, I’d have two pennies. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s hilarious it happened twice!

The jingle of keys pulled the plug on asshole-me’s voice. I’d waited a whole hour now and my head snapped up so fast I heard my neck pop. The front door opened and my heart flinched when my father walked in, dressed in one of those hideous Hawaiian shirts they sold in souvenir shops and flaunting on his nose and cheekbones a really bad case of sunburn. He’d say the sun was harsh in Minnesota. I’d pretend not to hear because believing was impossible. He slipped out of his sandals and I clasped my hands together in excitement.

“Dad, finally! I was starting to think I’d have to reheat everything,” I said. He turned to face the fake exasperation masking the genuine joy I felt at his return. A doubtful smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and my eyes were frantically bouncing from him to the open door. Panic began to well up in my mind. Asshole-me was diligently digging a hole for it, to fit as much as possible.

“A pretty big feast you have there.” Rolland Raven took off the sunglasses he was wearing to eye the food a bit better. I cracked a smile I hoped wouldn’t seem constipated. My thought process was starting to lag due to overload when I heard a faint curse. Next thing, Levi’s pale figure, wearing a ridiculous straw hat. My heart dropped like a stone, plugged the pit of panic and made asshole-me yelp when it nearly crushed her fingers. I felt like stumbling back into my chair and never getting up.

“I guessed you might be hungry after the flight. You don’t have to eat all of it,” I said. It was then a pair of graphite hues shot up to my face. It felt like each muscle in it strained almost to the point of tearing. My father took a seat at the counter while the intern opted to drop off his luggage upstairs and change clothes. I stared after him a second too long while he was climbing the stairs.

“You’ve never waited for me after a business trip before.” (E/c) clashed with (e/c) as my father began picking his food and digging in with more enthusiasm than I’d expected. Levi had mentioned the almightly Raven had complained about the poor quality on the trip compared to what he had at home, but it was still a compliment to witness it manifested.

“I usually have things to do when you’re on business trips, father. This summer I needed a source of entertainment.” I rolled my eyes, letting them scan the interior during the roundabout lie. Lucky enough, they caught the exact moment Levi was leaving his room, tugging down his shirt. A glimpse of fit abdominals. A vague tan line. The food on the counter became a tad bit less appetising.

“Don’t you have Eren Jaeger to help with that?” My father’s question made my attention snap back in place just in time for Levi not to catch me staring. He took a seat at the far end of the counter but I was too preoccupied with a small freak-out fit to dwell on it.

“About that,” I squeaked out with a constipated expression, prompting both men’s attention to turn from half-hearted to wholly undivided. Amazing. I couldn’t have done a better job at it if I’d begun yodelling out of the blue. “Eren broke up with me two months ago.” The key to not sounding like a squeaky toy was to not meet anybody’s gaze. My father was blinking like something had gotten in his eye and Levi’s jaw clenched at the discomfort he was subjected to.

“And I wasn’t notified of that because?” Rolland Raven, among many a quality, was a proud man who, in spite of his profession, could never act quite as predictably as I wished him to. This was no exception because I didn’t have time to open my mouth before he silenced me with a hand in the air. “No, forget I asked. I need to have a serious talk with him. Maybe make him pay back all the dates you’ve handled with interest. We can make a fortune.” The devious plan was voiced in his typical cold-blooded businessman manner. I waved my hands around in discomfort.

“Hold your horses, father. You’re not the one who got dumped. Eren ended the whole thing because he went to study in Germany,” I explained but it wouldn’t satisfy my father, who only glared while putting a fork-full of potatoes in his mouth. Levi tried to become fully invisible. I thought if things got too heated for him, he might make a dash for his room with the dish.

“Unreasonable as can be. If he loved you as much as he had the balls to claim in front of me, he could’ve thought of an alternative that didn’t include breaking your heart. Because of something as insignificant as distance, too.” My father leaned back in his chair with folded arms. He forgot all about food so he could glare at me.

“4898 miles to be exact,” I murmured pitifully. Both men shot me an incredulous look, to which I switched on defence mode. “I did my research. I wasn’t crying the whole time.” Subconsciously copying my father’s position, I reclined in my chair and crossed my arms, glaring like a child prior to giving a sigh and smiling weakly. “I gave it a lot of thought and he did the right thing. So can you be the one to tell mom later?” The last inquiry seemed to surprise him, maybe because it was expected of me to share more with my mother and thus already have her know the super secret information I was handing him.

“I’ll try not to cry as I do.” A nod and a similar weak smile. “You did well not to tell me immediately.” He returned to normal – calculating and sharp, looking for weaknesses and thinking in numbers. Levi’s lack of shock went unnoticed, which I was secretly thankful for. The raven was looking at me playing with the silver band around my finger to soothe my nerves.

“Because you would’ve gone to the airport to kick him to the curb like a good father?” I smirked, a pointed look aimed at the dark-haired businessman, who only snorted in return prior to redirecting his attention back to the food.

“… maybe.” A small pause betraying care, an awkward glance in his intern’s direction conveying mild panic as a result of his feelings showing and a fake clearing of the throat to show discomfiture. He changed the topic immediately. “Have I told you you’ve become a better cook than your mother?” (E/c) clashed with (e/c) and I knew he could see I was holding back laughter by the way the corner of his mouth twitched downwards in displeasure.

“You have now. Congratulations on successfully dodging the topic,” I announced with a complacent grin as he scoffed, ignoring the embarrassment so he could go back to eating. Levi’s gaze was relentless but, once having resolved the current minor conflict, I felt too ashamed to return it. I couldn’t be speaking of Eren, thinking of Levi and acting like a professional whore. It went against my moral code. I wished it was as stable as my pride. Somewhere in my head, asshole-me was drafting an advertisement for the future demise of both.

The following day was unexpectedly laid back in terms of emotions – the process of waking up and going to work was starting to become mechanical. I disliked that I was turning into a nine-to-five zombie, but Melinda’s cross remarks did nothing to hinder my placidity and Adam’s request for a date was, surprisingly, accepted with a pinch of reluctance. It was time for something new, I defended when asshole-me breached the topic of my change of heart. I couldn’t go a whole life without clashing with a man who wasn’t Eren. To forget him, I actually needed to accept that. Because knowing he wouldn’t come back and I didn’t want to get back together was different from realising I couldn’t stay in the comfort zone of being endlessly attached to him and using it as an excuse to never move on.

I felt a smile light up my face the moment I saw Levi in front of the TV with a cup of tea in his hand. Unfortunately, I couldn’t use him to move on – it was the conclusion I drew from the quiet happiness gripping my heart at the sight of him beckoning me over. Everything I’d done had been quite enough. I wouldn’t turn him into a tool as well. So I settled on the couch and we led a half-assed conversation about the movie playing until my parents barged in, beaming and formal. Going for a date at a restaurant – yeah, no, I knew where they were going after. I smiled as we sent them off, and then the ebony-haired intern began choosing the movie we’d be watching and I worked on the snacks downstairs.

Accepted a date, claimed you won’t use him and now you’re pondering the kiss you’ll initiate. You know you’re fucked in the head, correct? Asshole-me piped mockingly, making me huff. I knew I was fucked in the head because she was there. Also, kissing Levi and using Levi were two different things. Different for him how? It’s kissing. It wasn’t. It would be exploring this time – not thinking about being distracted but feeling it for what it was. Jesus, that’s such a weak excuse. I felt she might be face-palming. Seriously, what’s wrong with you? You spent so much time telling your best friend you don’t like him, then you miss Eren, then you “date” Adam, then you grab your friend-zoned intern and decide you’ll be kissing him again – after you established you’re fucking inferior to the blondie who’s clearly hitting on him or clearly intent on doing it too. Can you not follow the timeline?

“Princess, why does Natalie tell me you’ve filled out all the forms related to the company’s income during our vacation?” Levi lowered the phone from his ear. The call had ended a second ago and he was glaring at me doubtfully. I was busy watching the movie – hopefully, excuse enough for scarce to no eye contact. I opened the pack of Doritos I’d dug up from my secret stash in the garage and warily eyed the pale intern’s expression.

“Because the forms were in the office downstairs and I figured they’d get in the way of our movie marathon, asshole. I haven’t messed them up.” My scoff was promptly returned to sender as Levi shoved his phone back in his pocket and clicked his tongue in exasperation. Another three minutes passed before I spoke up: “By the way, I need advice.” The room was dimly lit and the raven’s sharp gaze was on my temple.

“Will you have it in mind when you get back on your bullshit?” The inquiry was flat and doubtful. I tried to nod but it came out looking like a cringe and a shrug. His lips pursed in exhaustion. “Spill,” he ordered coldly, making me pout.

“How do I forget Eren?” Squeaky was the best I could do after becoming tense again. Nervousness was gnawing at the feeble stem of courage I’d managed to grow and my hopes for this to go as smoothly as a chat about the weather were stuck in an elevator on the top floor of a skyscraper. Even overthinking was useless here.

“Easy,” he said. Again, there was that breach of grammar. “Find somebody new. Judging by how much you’re smiling these days, you might as well be done with that.” The suspicious mockery made me snort.

“Don’t you think I might be happy to have you and dad back home?” I asked pointedly.

“No,” he countered with a defiant click of his tongue. What he said next sounded like an extract from a Jorge Bucay book. Something about self-love maybe. “Before you get with Rivers, however, you have to accept that Jaeger is now your ex. He’s part of the past and the past doesn’t hold power over the future if you don’t let it.” I bit back laughter to not offend him.

“Such a poet you are,” I huffed half-heartedly. “And how do I stop loving him?” Seriousness stood perched on my right shoulder, but the Doritos between us kept decreasing and I felt the soothing coolness of the ring on my finger. Our gazes locked and I stared, just because I could, because he was back, because he acted normally. And why wouldn’t he? Our circumstances surely weren’t enough to alter his demeanour.

“You don’t. You never will and you should get used to it.” His answer cut deep and I realised it might’ve confused me but I was too captivated by his eyes to process it. He forced himself to explain: “We never stop loving somebody once we’ve fallen for them. We just fall harder for another person.” It was as romantic as it was businessman-like. A bit too… systematic somehow.

Line up, line up! Asshole-me encouraged. I imagined a big queue in front of an entrance door with a sign bearing my name above it. Number 12, pass through, but beware – number 10 wasn’t careful with his words and number 11 made no effort to change that! The asshole side of me clearly fancied the idea. For all waiting, the Eren Jaeger mural is on the left and the guy on the right is the one you’ll never be! Keep trying but keep this face in mind – Levi Ackerman is hiding in a lot of the corners you’ll visit! He’s an invaluable guest at this establishment! Oh! Is it time for the next one already? Hurry up, number 13! Don’t hold up the queue, who knows how much capacity we have left. And so on until the last victim had walked in. It made my nose scrunch up.

“Does that mean you still haven’t gotten over Petra?” I piped curiously, bright eyes observing closely the intern’s reaction. The movie was no longer as interesting. Everything I could focus on was the furrow between Levi’s brows and the flat unperturbed look in his eyes. He grabbed a Dorito from the pack. I moved my hand away just in time to avoid a clash.

“It means I haven’t fallen in love with the next in line,” he said, reinforcing the notion of a queue. “I’m used to the fact she’d dead. Filling out every report in the world won’t bring her back,” he paused briefly and gulped, “so I go on with my life.” The explanation was simple but relatively quiet, like he was trying to say the words while not exactly aiming to have me hear them. His gaze was staring at the screen ahead as I looked down, trying to come up with a good one-liner to put him out of his discomfort.

“I feel like we’re becoming pensive,” I started with a lopsided smirk, “so let me pull a Reverse Uno card on this mood by saying I’ve reached a milestone in my life.” Licking the Dorito dust off my fingers, I puffed out my chest proudly, making the intern put a hand to his mouth. Maybe he’d bitten back a smile behind it. “I won’t get fined for driving without supervision now. Not to mention, I can have sex.” Waving an index finger in front of his face, I didn’t react when he grabbed it without warning.

“I don’t see what stopped you before,” he stated nonchalantly. I shrugged, concluding I hadn’t exactly shared with him details about my childish vow.

“There was this really religious teacher at school when I was ten – she scarred all her classes by giving them unsolicited Sex Education lectures mixed with Bible verse. Got fired because children complained to their parents, but she did a good one on me before that,” I explained with a smile, yanking my finger from his hold. “Since sex was for sinners – both began with the letter s, she explained to us – and I didn’t want to be a sinner because it meant… well, a bad person, I told myself I’d have sex only after turning eighteen, regardless of the temptation. So I held out. Proud of myself for that.” My complacent smile made him snort. He might’ve glanced at my lips right after.

“I’m sure there’s been a lot of temptation for you, princess,” he drawled in a deep sarcastic voice, moving the empty bag of Doritos away before wiping his fingers with as I processed the retort. I sat still, pouting for a fraction of a second, when it hit me this was my chance. The signal was there – shining in bright green, if I wasn’t color-blind – and it was time for me to grasp the opportunity.

“More than you can imagine, asshole,” I said with a scoff, not parting my eyes from his profile to observe his reaction. We cast aside the fact he could’ve poked fun at me being the furthest thing from a believer, yet such a big aspect of my life had been altered by a religious teacher. The tip of his nose twitched when he snorted in dismissal, not daring to meet my eye all of a sudden.

“The mood has been brightened. What do we do now?” He turned to face me, curious but hesitant, and I felt a surge of courage at the sight of the indecisiveness dawdling about in his grey eyes. The blue specks were calling me – count us, (Y/N), count us – and I concluded this would be the one time I initiated anything between us. It was stressful and scary, but it was Levi, so want overpowered fear, resulting in something we’d have a hard time sorting out our feelings on.

“Watch the movie you so diligently picked for us maybe?” But actions contradicted words because I was leaning in and he could see it. For two whole seconds, there was no movement on his end. Panic was about to make me pull back, pin it to something else, anything else, when his hand lifted, slender fingers gently tucking my hair behind my ear. This was it. It would happen. I was exploring what it’d be like without the guilt of purposefully seeking distraction.

It was slow – the first kiss – his lips barely landing on top of mine so we could taste the water even when we knew it was lukewarm. The movie was like white noise – I could catch fragments of dialogue and the screen illuminated Levi’s profile the few times my lids fluttered open. His hold on the side of my face was gentle, granting permission for me to pull back at any point. I didn’t know what he was thinking. I knew I was barely thinking and it felt nice, for my head to be so blissfully empty. It was all sensations and when he dragged his tongue over my bottom lip, my mouth opened to allow access for further exploration. The kiss deepened and I tried to push closer into him.

“Get on top,” he muttered into my mouth. His right hand dipped to grab my leg. I might’ve flushed bright red, but I still complied, slowly straddling him and letting his hands guide me to where he found it most comfortable. I was terribly aware of what I sat on. It might’ve been terribly aware of me, too.

It was slow and fast at the same time. We weren’t breaking the kiss but some moments of it – like his hand brushing my side and making me cover in goosebumps – were fleeting like blinks while others – like the weird scorching thing in my whole torso – felt endless. It was indescribable to a point, the heat of the moment but the moment was long and the pace was changing slightly the more it went on. It hadn’t been him either. It was him responding to me, because I couldn’t for the life not hold him tightly and subconsciously look for more. We were glued together and his fingers had tentatively pushed up my shirt at the back so they could trail up and down the curve of my spine.

My head was tilted, fingers tangled in his hair and heavy huffs escaping my nostrils. He smelled like lavender and rain and cologne, and my fucking conditioner I’d told him a thousand times to stop using because it was expensive. I didn’t bother scolding him about it now. My desperate want turned the kisses hungrier and there was this point – I might’ve wiggled slightly to find an even closer spot – but he stiffened and grabbed the back of my head, growing twice as persistent and passionate. Weird, using that word about him. It hit me the forbidden part of male anatomy I was seated on top of had risen to attention. It made me wonder if it had happened before and that, in turn, was simultaneously embarrassing and flattering. He was attracted to me, too. Duh. We were literally making out on my bed.

When more began translating as more of everything instead of more of this particular thing, he seemed to sense the shift. His hands guided me off his lap and back on the bed. My head was resting against the pillow and my head was empty, lids fluttering open to drink the sight of him the first time he broke the kiss – pale but handsome, tired but caring, bored but clearly moved by the happening. It was a miracle. I’d been begging for this statue to show me anything in the beginning of his internship. I hadn’t known it could show me this – it looked like a godsend. My heart was going a hundred miles per hour, my breath was unsteady and my body felt hot all over.

It didn’t matter where he kissed – my lips, my neck, my chest, my shoulders – I just wanted him to keep kissing me. Temptation had seldom been this strong and the vow was no longer active, it was fulfilled – an electrifying realisation. I didn’t need to have him stop. What my sinner’s hands did the moment that resolution snapped in place was to grab the hem of his shirt and, with pointed urgent eyes, plead with him to take it off. He hesitated for exactly one second, then complied, like he’d complied with everything else without having me say it. He was kneeling between my legs, arms going over his head so the piece of clothing could be discarded. His chest and abdomen flexed, the biceps, the triceps, all the other names of muscles I’d had to read about but hadn’t memorised. Adonis in the flesh. Fuck me for drooling. Oh.

If I could paint, I’d paint him. If I could sing, I’d write a song. If I had a taser, I’d tase myself out of being so cringe-worthy in admiring the body of a man. But when that body pressed against mine, everything became a bit too hot – literally and metaphorically – so I decided the next step was to cool down by taking off my own clothes. First the shirt, then the pants he helped out with. I almost laughed when they tangled at my ankles and he had to tug them off with an irritated frown. Here it was, having my father’s intern see my bra again. This time I didn’t mind.

“Frills? Seriously?” Well, now I minded.

“Do we have an issue?” I snapped with a pointed look. It didn’t help he was towering over me, sizing up my underwear with eyes that spoke simultaneously of him being amused and him being something else. I wondered if he was still hard. I hadn’t touched there once.

“It’s almost cute,” he mocked flatly. He didn’t reach to take it off – he just leaned down to mollify me with a kiss. It worked. I was carried off into wanting more again. The weight of him on top of me grounded the body and made the soul soar. It was a cringe comparison but whatever, it was true. I realised, right about the time I tugged on the waistband of his sweatpants and his brows flashed in unrestrained surprise, that I was an eighteen-year-old doing exactly what was expected of every single eighteen-year-old on the planet – sneaking a boy into my room while my parents were out.

This here was a boy I trusted and a boy I was halfway convinced was more of a man than a boy, mostly when it came to observing how he casually sat up and removed his sweatpants with precision contrary to clumsiness. My eyes flickered down to his boxers. Still hard alright. There was a rush of excitement and shame all at once when I realised it. A bit too late to stop and pin this a mere heat-of-the-momet make-out session. It was the real deal. Happening. Live. In my room. On a late August evening. Goodness gracious.

It took me a second to process it and he might’ve sensed that I’d grown a bit rigid despite remaining just as active. He didn’t advance the happening, petting my hair and kissing me, and trailing lower, but only as low as he’d gone before, finding the rest a sort of forbidden land. Didn’t even take off the bra with the frills he mocked me for. What a gentleman. He was kissing the curve of my breast and I was wondering how in the fucking hell I’d deserved this.

“We don’t have to,” he warned at some point. “If you don’t want to. Saying no is allowed.” He kissed me and it was intoxicating, but also the last snapped nerve. I arched my back off the bed, elbows bending so my hands could reach for my bra clip. The shoulder straps went loose and Levi paused for a moment to process what the act meant.

“I won’t say it,” I muttered with determination, eyes locked with his. Pride was strong within me even now and, having the wordless consent, he gently took off the bra before paying some attention to newfound territory. It was like being examined in a lab. Again, my boobs weren’t perfect. It was genetics and fate, and whatever else. In being embarrassed about him staring at my chest, I was graced by the thought I hadn’t shaved anywhere. Double embarrassed. Wasn’t it only right that the first time would come with presentability? There go the Raven teachings.

And the word nipple is somewhat lame – I’ve heard it from native and non-native speakers of English both – but there is no other word. So when his tongue rolled around my nipple, I forgot I hadn’t shaved and drew such a sharp breath I almost choked. My chest was heaving and he was thumbing my other nipple. I thought we’d get straight to it and was mistaken. He knew better, it seemed, because a virgin needed the bare minimum of this much and more foreplay to truly relax. It hit me for a fraction that this was actual foreplay while I was staring at the ceiling between trying not to make any sounds. I was like a dead fish, just letting him do things to me. More responsive than a dead fish but awfully inexperienced in any case. It made me feel just a bit guilty. My one saving grace was the fact his erection kept brushing against my leg – and if that was there, then it meant he wasn’t dissatisfied.

It was a black spot for a while because I couldn’t pinpoint between the overwhelming build-up of nice but not nice enough where exactly Levi was kissing or sucking or nipping or touching. Now it would be my thigh, now leaving a hickey on my shoulder, now trailing kisses over my jaw and down my neck, now caressing my side, now trailing a finger down to my navel, now my boob, intermission, the other boob – and the whole time there was that thing in my abdomen, the same one I’d felt with Eren, the hot knot begging for attention.

This was a new person and I hadn’t thought it’d come with a new person, but it was there alongside a brand new dynamic which wasn’t hurried or harsh or overtly passionate like I’d been used to. The pace was decent and steady and passion here didn’t amount to bruises – or at least not explicitly so. The new person made it thrilling, overwhelming. The new person made it a brand new experience. And when the brand new person’s hand gently dipped to touch the part where my legs met, I shivered all over, heart and lady boner flinching at once. Levi, with his obstinacy, refused to ask permission vocally. I still nodded, spreading my legs a bit wider. Slowly, like my panties weren’t in the way, he kissed from my knee to the base of my inner thigh, nipped slightly and made me yelp, and muffled something like a chuckle against the plush of my leg.

I didn’t know what he was thinking. I knew his fingers pressing against the spot where wetness had accumulated made my mouth gape slightly. I craned my neck and closed my eyes. There was embarrassment holding hands with excitement, with pleasure breathing down their necks. Nothing quite mattered. I breathed out like I’d been holding my breath for fourteen minutes when the raven’s fingers gently dragged back and forth against my core and then he might’ve been impatient, because he tugged my underwear out of the way, down my legs, past the knees and the ankles, dropping it with the rest of our clothes and the empty Dorito bag on the floor. It was a whole mess, this thing. I wanted it.

“The house is empty, princess,” he said while leaning down to kiss below my navel.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, almost out of breath in spite of my lungs functioning perfectly. His fingers were ghosting on the side of where I wanted him to touch. His mouth dragged lower. There was the jab of shame about not being shaved again. It hadn’t sent him to his feet and out of the room, so it was probably fine. A man wasn’t afraid to fight the jungle, I’d heard a few times before.

“That you can make noise without being scared,” he responded casually. I snorted and decided inwardly that I wouldn’t be making any noise whatsoever, just to spite him. It did feel good, though, so I doubted I could actually hold back effectively. As though to challenge the unsaid decision, Levi cut the suspense short. When his tongue rested where only one other had before, I came close to whining. My hand shot down to paw at his hair and he hummed against my clit. The vibrations of it made me writhe slightly.

He licked and sucked – nipped twice, which made me yelp both times – and did all sorts of other magic. Added to the title of mind-reader would now be the rank of mage. Then, there was this point when I could feel his fingers prodding at my entrance – a gentle warning of what was to come. First it was one. My mouth gaped and there was a slight flash of something like pain. More like discomfort. Now this was brand new wherever I looked at it from. Remember, my vow had its doors but none had included penetration. Officially the furthest I’d gone with somebody. Goodbye, hymen. You served us well.

He waited. Waited almost a full minute and distracted me with his tongue before I rolled my hips to give him the green light. Slow pumps. It was still uncomfortable, but the friction wasn’t painful. Just uncomfortable and new and I didn’t like change, but when this one found with its finger one particular spot sold off as the Bermuda Triangle for men to find, I might’ve liked this particular change. First, it made me moan. Second, the more he kept reaching that spot – because it was impossible to miss I liked it – the closer I was to coming. There were sloppy sounds and a second finger inserting itself in me, and my voice bouncing off the walls before dropping to the floor in a hush.

I might’ve said his name, actually, I might’ve half-screamed it. The orgasm hit me like a brick dropping straight on my genitals and he kept flicking his tongue slower and slower until I’d ridden it out in full. How considerate. When his fingers came out, there was a spot of blood. My mouth clamped shut in shame. He reached over to clean them with a wet wipe – then he cleaned me, too, because obviously he could see things that were invisible to me. There was slick on his chin and I glared half-heartedly when his eyes twinkled in amusement at me.

“Well, that’s done,” I muttered while he leaned over with the intention to kiss me again. “Wipe your mouth, asshole.” I put a hand to his chest to prevent my own pussy juices from coming in contact with my face. For a clean-freak, he sure didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get them off.

“You don’t want to see how tasty it is?” He was mocking me. I was red and hot all over still, a bit like a deflated balloon being refilled with exasperation contrary to air. No longer a virgin, as far as doctors would care. Still kind of in the middle, considering typical hetero interactions included something more than fingers.

“God, no!” I tried to push at his jaw and he almost chuckled when the pussy juice got on my fingers and I flicked my wrist frantically to get it off.

“It was god, yes a second ago,” he drawled pointedly. I burned bright red under his gaze, naked and not a hymen-bearer and kind of lost as to what came next. I pouted, swatted his shoulder and pretended to be very disgusted when he kissed me, making it open-mouted and sloppy for the sake of spiting me. In truth, it didn’t taste like much. Tasted weird, unlike food and drink. Well, that’s bodily fluids for you.

Remember the right-est choice I made as of late? Here it comes. The kiss guided his fingers down to my clit again and mine – to the band of his boxers. A tug and a snap, and he asked me three whole fucking times if I was sure. Not verbally, of course. It was just the particular way he stopped between each step to make sure, to look at me straight in the eye and have me nod my consent back to him. Like I’d change my mind that fast. God’s sake – if I would’ve said no, I would’ve said it before we’d kissed. But this wasn’t something he would do under normal circumstances – not a matter of alcohol, guilt or duty. It was free will and choice. Mine might’ve been made sometime last month, right around my birthday.

The boxers were gone. I blinked at it. A penis in textbooks, a dick in colloquial speech, a cock in smut books, a member in tame erotica. Length, girth, meat sword, love machine – could go on forever. We sat staring at it like it was an alien and while I was bashful, I was also bad with measurements without the aid of a ruler, hence why I safely concluded that I could stack about four donuts on it and put the zipper on it. There was that thing – precum, was it? – leaking from the tip. In all honesty, no I didn’t want to lick it off. Same went for sperm. In the history of mankind, I’d done the gracious thing and sucked off my boyfriend exactly once – the rest had been handjobs because blowjobs came with terrible pains in the jaw, a cramping of the tongue, a crap salty taste and the awkward detail of looking like an unattractive fish during the act. So, no, I didn’t volunteer to show off how bad I was at it.

“Condoms, shit.” It flew out of my mouth unintentionally. Levi’s face scrunched up. We were both visited by the bitter realisation that going further was not an option anymore, unless he wanted to don on a sock. Then the solution came to me. “Keep it up, I’ll be back in a minute,” I mumbled hurriedly, jumping off the bed and rushing butt-naked out of the room so I could go to my parents’ bedroom. Yeah, no, such was the reality of things. I tried to keep my conscience untainted while rummaging through the wardrobe. The hidden box of condoms in the back by the shoes was the saving grace. I wouldn’t speak of this to a living soul that wasn’t Annie Leonheardt ever.

The moment I returned to the room with the box held proudly over my head, Levi snorted. He laid me on the bed again and the mood returned, which was weird because I’d pinned him the type of experience one moment of interruption and consider it all ruined. Not that I’d thought about him during sex or having sex. I hadn’t. I promise. I was thinking it now, when I was about to have it with him. The kisses eased the natural awkwardness and by the time he was putting it in, I was a desperate mess again. Sweat stuck to skin and my breath got stuck in my throat when he pushed it in. I blanked, gaped like I’d received a headshot and felt him stand still to let me adjust. There was, again, mild discomfort. Fingers couldn’t compare to a dick.

I gave it half a minute and told him to move. The first thrust had me whining into his mouth. It was good. It was good, progressively becoming better and better and better, a surprise arriving with each snap of his hips. My father’s intern having sex with me, my father’s intern, my father’s intern, my intern, my Levi. The first five minutes were full of careful slow strokes to let the awkwardness dissipate and for me to get used to it. I won’t call myself anything but I’ll say I got used to it a bit too fast for comfort. So it went. Losing my virginity to my father’s intern.

“Faster, can you--- a bit faster?” The words were choked out and you’d wonder why I would ask for faster when slow was doing a good job of making my chest heave like I was running a marathon, but it was maddening and addictive.

“I can for you, princess.” It was a rasp against the side of my neck and I was blanking because the voice, paired with the hands, with the scent, with the sensation of being full and empty, then full and empty again was so mind-numbing I could melt on the spot and stay there forever. So slow and careful turned into fast and considerate. There was no harshness in him even when he kneaded my boobs or licked stripes down the length of my throat, no harshness whatsoever when he gripped my thighs or my sides. It was tight, but pleasant, egging me on further.

I bit down on the pillow when he found the spot. I bit his finger, too. I bit his shoulder and I bit my own hand to keep my voice down because how was something on this Earth allowed to be so nice? Fuck. He murmured at me to moan if I felt like it. There was a smug undertone. And when he reached between us to roll circles around my clit, I didn’t moan – I was a banshee impersonator, neck craning, back arching, toes curling, all that jazz. I came with a crash and a bang, and it might’ve been an hour by now, or maybe more, but the neighbourhood was asleep and I was wide awake, trying to wake them up, too.

A five-minute break of kisses served as an intermission to avoid me becoming overstimulated but Levi was still hard and still quite energetic in spite of the fact he’d been fucking me for an overall of thirty minutes without stopping or having his pace hitch. Round two started fast and I had my legs up, knees on the sides of my head. It was hot, seeing him through that kind of frame. Just one bead of sweat on his temple – not sticky all over, unlike me. Why was I the one becoming exhausted anyway? I was being a pillow princess. His eyes were gorgeous and his lips were slightly swollen.

“Please, don’t stop,” I whined at some point. He didn’t seem to have any prospects of stopping anyway, but I couldn’t help it. He huffed, chest heaving with lust and I knew it wasn’t easy to be the one doing all the work, so I mentally gave credit where credit was due. “Oh--- Levi, God!” He seemed like he wanted to laugh and my ring glimmered in the dark against his cheek while I tried to pull him down for a kiss which was simply impossible in our current position. He switched it five minutes later. It was not an understatement to claim I was seeing stars and everything was nice and nothing was awkward and this was the most handsome man with the most stamina on this land.

I lost my voice at some point, or I thought I did because my third orgasm couldn’t make me bite down on the pillow fast enough to muffle the literal holler that left my lungs. His name, by the way. If that hadn’t woken the neighbours, I wasn’t sure anything would. I was recuperating and he was trailing gentle pecks along my neck, still not finished. Was sex always this physically draining? My mind might’ve blanked during the third round and we were in missionary again because I insisted that I be able to kiss him any time I wished to. His hand was holding my wrist captive and the other was massaging my breast and it was all a giant whirlpool of pleasure and heat and fluids – the nasty and the nice in one, but I couldn’t care less about the nasty.

He came with a growl, biting down on my shoulder to muffle something that sounded like my name as his pace hitched and turned sloppy for the first time in what felt like hours. He slumped down on top of me and I was breathing more heavily than him, calmed by the weight. I was blinking at the ceiling and my heart was doing somersaults in my ribcage. He went to shower after a minute of rest, I called him out for being a clean freak and it just so happened that my perception of time wasn’t all too warped because checking my phone made me realise we’d had sex for about three hours, foreplay included. I slipped into the shirt he’d tossed on the floor, wiped myself and very considerately ignored the soreness in my hips while changing the sheets.

To my biggest surprise, he returned to my room in a new pair of boxers with his hair wet. There was no invitation. He joined me on the clean bed and wrapped his arms around me. This might’ve been aftercare. When our gazes locked, I didn’t dare avert my eyes in bashfulness. It was surreal and I wanted to memorise it. Then he asked me again – as voicelessly as the first time and the following ten – and I answered positively by flashing him the biggest smile I could muster. No words were exchanged. Levi rolled his eyes and I tucked myself under his chin, legs tangling with his. I was knocked out cold. I wouldn’t hasten to write this off as a happy ending but I wouldn’t immediately turn it angsty either. I explored. It was nice. I don’t think I regretted it for a second.

Waking up was a surreal experience because it included the added luxury of being bathed in sunlight with a warm arm draped around my midriff and a pale sunlit face inches from mine. A spot of purple in the crook of his neck and a few red crescents on his shoulder. Perhaps one or two leftover scratches on his back. I blinked at the sight incredulously, gradually coming to and realising what this position meant – prompted by last night’s three different ones, too.

It happened! Asshole-me hollered in my head, nearly hysteric, slamming a pan into a bell and making the echo of the toll ring painfully against the confines of my skull. You ruined it all! It was like an automatic switch – suddenly, the neutral was the bad and I had complicated it with my impulsiveness, my stupid hormones. I imagined four months of awkwardness and the wish to have more but being completely incapable of asking for fear it would mean feelings. I pictured a tense atmosphere, uncomfortable interactions, embarrassing thoughts, lame excuses. A friendship built with struggle and just barely reinforced annihilated to smithereens by my dumb ass.

I cringed, removing my hand from Levi’s chest to slap myself across the face for being horrible again – not in using him but in indulging my own selfishness. His eyelids fluttered open before the admonishment transpired and I was staring straight into the melted silver which had the tendency to read my thoughts. The current self-reprimanding cacophony would entertain him.

“… should make you coffee,” he mumbled half-coherently, making me blink wondrously at his hazy composure. This is normal, his eyes whispered, lips pressing nonchalantly to my forehead before he got up, so there’s no need to be so shocked. The trip down the stairs was silent. I had left scratches. More than two.

Currently, we were in the kitchen, sitting around the counter with our mandatory morning drinks. Unsaid words hung from the ceiling like dangling cobwebs. Levi, who’d needed a moment to retrieve his memories in full, was stiff and uncertain, and in spite of that visibly calmer than me. I could feel my face heating up as I thought of what to say. This wasn’t normal, even if both of us upon our respective awakening had pinned it such. It was something we had to discuss but how were we supposed to discuss sex when we sometimes fought over food? Deciding what to do seemed impossible.

“Are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?” The raven, of course, was the one who broke the silence while I was slurping on my coffee, gaze averted and heart beating erratically. “Princess, I’m afraid this is something important,” he said in the face of my silence. His piercing glare was on my temple but I wouldn’t turn, keeping my fingers glued to my cup and my mind grounded in panic. “Need I remind you exactly what happened?” Levi pressed additionally, husky voice raising in audible urgency. I felt completely and utterly naked – dressed in only his shirt and my own underwear.

“We had sex, that’s what happened.” I shrugged, mind preoccupied with the strange feeling eating its way into it. Deep into my stomach, up to my lungs, through the chambers of the heart, in the windpipe – but not painfully. “There’s nothing more to it.” The nonchalant statement didn’t get a warm welcome. That much was to be expected. The attractive intern was frowning, rubbing his temples with a frustrated sigh. I tried not to look at his fingers.

And I’m trying to do just that, asshole-me scoffed pointedly. There’s something different about them when they’ve been inside you last night, yeah? A good type of different. Imagine it. My shoulders tensed as I chased her around in my head with a frying pan. Levi ran a hand through his ebony locks. Wow, is that the sex hair? And I pursed my lips in displeasure, knowing the struggles of the current moment and choosing in spite of them to secretly a wish for a second time. No harm, you know, no harm whatsoever in wanting to fuck your father’s goddamn intern, yeah? No? Can you hear it? Does it sound like a good sentence? Does it?

“Where exactly does your lacking virginity fit into your nothing more to it?” His retort made me cringe, well aware of the virginity ace hidden up his imaginary sleeve. It was a bit harder to argue with him when he was half-naked, letting me see the spots I’d bitten and kissed. The situation: we’d had sex. My side: I had nothing against him being my first because I trusted him and he’d been experienced and careful enough to make it nice. The actual problem: he was my father’s intern.

The abstract part: intimacy often came with, well… intimacy. Casual sex had the advantage of not seeing your partner again afterwards and in our case, we’d had casual sex with somebody we saw daily. Future speculation: tension due to this adventure would brew either discord or twice the ferocity in repeating the adventure. A possible solution: talking about feelings. Additional issue: Levi and I talking about feelings? Not in this day and age. Not in this life either. Telling him he made me feel warm and appreciated? Impossible. Honesty in the face of something embarrassing? Sorry, I don’t know her. She must be really lame.

“Everywhere, because I don’t care for it. It might add complexity to your situation, but it doesn’t play a big role in mine.” Dismissing the whole of it and pinning it on him was wrong. My nonchalance was false. Maybe it was what made him take a deep breath prior to speaking up again, his tea untouched.

“You’re supposed to be freaking out, princess.” His eyes were on mine and asshole-me was screaming: Come on, do it! Just kiss him and make things worse! Go right ahead! I averted my gaze with a snort. He’d used my nickname last night. Added a shade of meaning to it. I tried to get a grip as my rational side reasoned with the situation. This had been a one-time thing – or at least for him. Following that train of thought, wanting more was useless.

“You think I’m not?” It was high-pitched and ludicrous. Memories were surfacing and it was somewhat unpleasant to think they wouldn’t repeat. Levi kissing me in the dark, almost saying my name, clearing the hair from my sweaty forehead, biting my neck as he came, smiling against my lips as I tugged on his hair and tried not to moan, holding me close afterwards, not once saying the wrong thing. “I’m freaking out. You just don’t see it.” My downcast gaze was thoughtful and the air was becoming heavier with something I couldn’t identify. I could feel him staring and it bugged me not to know what he was thinking. “What?” I snapped, refraining from playing with my ring.

“What do you want to do now?” He asked flatly, eyes pinning me in place. “Do you want me to pretend this didn’t happen or do you want us to keep going?” It was ridiculous hearing him say it because, usually, he wouldn’t. I blinked, thinking I’d misheard.

“Keep going as in keep having sex?” I echoed to make sure I’d understood. It might’ve gone out a bit more shocked than expected, which made him sigh.

“I was listing options. In the end, it all comes down to what you want.” The flat voice made me realise I knew what I wanted well enough to have chosen during the conversation with Hanji three days ago or maybe even before I’d had the courage to admit it to myself.

“I don’t know what I want,” I lied with a pointed look, vehement embarrassment clawing up my throat and scratching at the back of it. I could say I wanted to keep going – his offer meant he might be willing – but his response was a fifty-fifty on whether he was sexually frustrated or would rather stick to decorum while living in the same house as the girl he was fucking and her father. I couldn’t turn the question on him because it was mean. I couldn’t call it a mistake because that would be another lie. I was tired of lying when it didn’t go to protect my pride.

“You don’t?” He quirked a thin brow mockingly, feigning the surprise he didn’t feel. “Or you just don’t want to admit your favour the more embarrassing option?” I sat motionless, knowing this wasn’t what I should’ve been doing – considering it. Maybe this was a test he had for me – to see if I’d be dumb or act like a reasonable adult. But (there came that stupid word again) if Hanji had been right, this wasn’t a random hook-up, which meant there might be something and---

Are you seriously considering a relationship with somebody who’s leaving in less than four months? Asshole-me interjected, making me sigh in defeat. Doesn’t fuck randomly, okay, fine, but this is an exception. How in the fucking hell would he grow to like you? You know that’s impossible. Methinks he went along with it because you clearly wanted it. Think about it, he does all sorts of bullshit for you. So what sounds more plausible? Him being himself or him liking you? The former, of course, but I couldn’t admit it. Like I couldn’t admit he was right to say I favoured the more embarrassing option.

“Even if it was like that,” I chose to return the favour and be doubtful, “I’m not inclined to think your morals would let you humour me.” My chin was tipped upwards while Levi shook his head and finally took a sip from his tea. The ghost of a smirk in the corner of his mouth disarmed.

“I have little to nothing against it. But,” (that fucking word again) the firmness of his voice was the only thing keeping my chest from swelling, “it doesn’t sound like an ideal course of action when you’ve almost got yourself a new boyfriend,” he reasoned calmly, somber responsibility lacing his tone.

“It’s not cheating if we’re not official,” I protested instantly, furrowed brows and a pout. He snorted.

“That’s not what I meant, princess.” My lips pursed at the jolt the nickname gave me. “I don’t want sex clouding your judgement. I get Rivers isn’t your boyfriend, but you shouldn’t exclude him as a possibility just because you’ve started thinking you have feelings for me.”

“Besides being a poet, you’ve turned into a psychologist, too,” I exclaimed with a genuinely cheerful chuckle that made him quirk a brow. Something in my throat shrivelled up. “Don’t dwell on my feelings too much, asshole,” I reassured. “I like this because it’s something new, not because I’m head over heels in love with you.” I was still chuckling as he sipped on his tea and fixed me with one of those firm looks that had the ability to bend the knees. The effect was doubled in intensity this morning.

“Make your choice then,” he said boredly, not wishing to be too imperious, seeing as the situation wasn’t taking place in a formal setting where he was the boss and I was the indecisive underling. I might as well have been, with how hot my ears got while I held his gaze, brave and stupid in the face of somebody who read me better than I sometimes read myself.

“I’m not saying it out loud,” I muttered, bashful. The ebony-haired intern watched me struggle before tilting his head to the side with a fake air of oblivion.

“Then I won’t know what you want,” he said innocently, attempting to mock my shyness and what was more – succeeding. I burned bright red, feeling heat creep up my neck and my glare was pointed and uncontrolled. It couldn’t pass as mere annoyance because Levi was hitting a nerve.

“I didn’t see you having a hard time knowing everything I wanted last night, but okay.” There was more spite than sass in the sentence, which only further conveyed my inability to stay nonchalant – something that clearly amused him. “I want us to… keep going. Satisfied?” Crossed arms, downcast gaze and a childish pout. I was the live embodiment of the word petulance and Levi wasn’t done having fun with it.

“Not as satisfied as I clearly left you.” He was smirking and I glared at him, furious and not knowing where the blood would go when there was no space left in my head. I hopped off my chair, turning my back to him and hearing how he moved to stand behind me. A well-meaning hand landed on my shoulder. “It was a joke, princess, there’s no need for the cold shoulder.” His tone was flat and disinterested, but there was a pacifying sliver. He might’ve been trying to make peace but I wouldn’t have it after all the embarrassment he put me through – just to have a good private laugh, too!

“Un-fucking-bearable, that’s what you are,” I hissed, brushing his hand off my shoulder and heading to the staircase in order to escape. He gave chase and set on ignoring the usual code that forbade touchy-touchy when unneeded. The pure and unfiltered imagination one must have in order to picture a shirtless Greek God chasing after a poorly dressed eighteen-year-old spoiled brat was too ambitious a requirement for anybody to fulfil. Turn to mythology for that, but it’s inappropriate there and this one meant well.

“I’ll stop embarrassing you if that’s what you want.” His hands were on my shoulders. He turned me around and I didn’t look at him, much less respond. He could sense I was ashamed. His hands slowly trailed down over my arms to hold my wrists in a grip I could, with effort, free myself from. “Does the mere mention of sex with no context whatsoever embarrass you, princess?” He knew it did, leaning forward with twinkling eyes and a complacent half-smile. “Your face is red.”

“And you’re a fucking genius, congratulations,” I spat with sarcastic disgruntlement. He pulled me forward so that I bumped into his chest. My shoulders jumped in surprise. I didn’t want to look him in the eye but the sight of the marks I’d left on him were no less embarrassing to behold. My heart sped up and I was pouting, flush against him with nowhere to go.

“It speaks,” he whispered by my ear. His hands retraced their steps over my arms and shoulders, gently gliding against the sides of my neck until they held my face. “Does it want to go up to my room?” Blue specks in a pool of melted silver. The question was genuine, in spite of being masked with slight mockery. The adult of us two. I tried to stay mad, but it was impossible. I promised the blue specks I’d count them later and then we were kissing. It was a funny picture – the whole of this situation – ridiculous but somehow not fictional. It was him lifting me off the floor and me wrapping my legs around him. It was him making step after step, steady and careful not to drop me while I snickered into his mouth. It was me being a literal koala and then it was us, hearing the jingle of keys.

“Shit,” I cursed, parting from him with a smack. He let go and I could catch only a glimpse of the panic on his face before I was running up the stairs. I’d barely closed the door behind us when I heard my mother greeting the empty kitchen downstairs. While I breathed out in relief, Levi was already heading to the balcony. It occurred to me that there was a pack of condoms on my nightstand and they were stolen. I’d need to make a trip to the pharmacy and replace the box. Talk about inconvenient. “Careful now,” I piped while the intern was preparing to make the jump, “we don’t want you to fall.” He gave me a half-hearted glare but said nothing.

When he was gone, I plopped down on my bed and grinned incredulously at the ceiling. This “secret sex” thing we were about to dive into wasn’t how I’d imagined the weeks prior to my first year in university, but oh, well. Expect the unexpected and if unable to – just accept it. This officially marked the beginning of my longest stay in City of Dumbassery. It was surprising, however, that I wasn’t alone in there. Twice as surprising that I’d be stuck with my father’s intern. Whom I was having sex with. Amazing. Spectacular. Asshole-me would have my ass for that.

tag list: @unloved-cadillac ; @donaldthrts

#mtij #levi x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #x reader #levi ackerman imagine #reader insert #levi ackerman x reader #it finally happened #all i'm going to say: i wrote the actual sex scene while editing the rest of the chapter because i was too bashful in the past lol #sure hope it's not worse than the vague three paragraphs of the past #levi is a literal king who preaches consent and safe sex and nobody will change my opinion #also our drama queen is entering a brand new arc of her life #beware: storm incoming

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boxwinebaddie · 3 months

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i am not a tyde gal, but AHWGHK OWAH!!! thats so cuteee! i thought i was the only one who found like the always catching and realizing when narcoleptics were gonna have a sleep attack was cute (if that sentence made sense lol). THEY'RE BOTH DUMMY FINE!! like clyde is finneee. but tolkien is like FINEEE. i want them.

d'awwww <3 c': /you/ are so cute, friend! you and a plethora of other anons who have sent me in positive messages abt rm!tyde, haha!

it means a lot to me bc a large point of insecurity for me is that when i first entered the sp fandom, early on, i fell super hard into Style, which directly interacts with the main four/five or the cfpom in my ncu lore, so i focused heavily on them/their dynamic...which meant explored creek ( the other main sp ship ) and the craig and those guys boys waaaaay less and know...much less abt them.

in general...but also how they fit into my fanfictions.

however, we know how i am, i never put out anything for you guys unless i feel strongly about it and feel like it's been thoroughly researched and creatively curated by me in a way that aligns with the show that we love, the characters we care about and my lore/the universe that i am cobbling them into...

( -- which, if you sent me an ask about rm!craig, i promise i will get to it, i am still developing that lore as well as rm!tweeks [ again, be nice to me, i am very insecure abt them ]. if you sent me an ask about bebe or wen, also, please know i am still developing Them as well. again, i like to really carefully craft my characters and make sure there are not glaring plot holes/they are authentic to my canon/sp. )

...so when i debuted rm!tyde, i personally was very stoked on fuccboi dumb jock frat boy secret elle woods daddy issues clyde and chill crunchy vibes poetic artist fight the man golden boy celebrity tolkien, but i was nervous about how you all would perceive them.

Very Well, it seems!!!!! which absolutely THRILLS ME!!!! thank you guys for sending in validating asks -- it is my lifeblood. mWAH! <3

( also, sorry i made tolkien British...it had to be done. cheers, luv! xx )

and while i too was not initially a tyde girlie ( again, i am not that knowledgeable abt sp chars outside of style ) i'm love rm!tyde so much...they are so Cute to me. <3333

i feel like when they start dating, it's gonna be like clyde rolling up like *obnoxious jocky american accent vc* hey bro! ;), handing tolkien his tea from the coffee cart ( except it's Not bc clyde was not paying attention and grabbed a cup marked clara...smh, tolkien said it was the thought that counts ) speaking of him, he is definitely in the grass, sketching stuff listening to chill music and is the *posh london accent* hiya babes xx <3 boyfriend and then they kiss...Amazing.

BUT YES!!!! I LOVE NARCOLEPSY CLYDE SO MUCH!!!

SLEEPY KING

i feel like even as friends, they're in a study group for one of their classes talking to some girl and clyde's words start to slur and he's like swayinggg and the girl looks scared as Fuck but tolkien just catches him like it's nothing ( he is very used to this ) and the girl is like??? WHAT JUST HAPPENED IS HE OKAY DOES HE NEED TO GO TO THE HOSPITAL??? and tolkien very calmly with clyde In His Arms is like "don't worry, darling. he's quite alright; happens all the time. would you mind if we moved over to the couches, though?"

and she's just like "...." as they walk over there, then tolkien sits down, sets clyde's head on his lap, shrugs off his jacket, throws it over clyde's legs and their classmate is like "uh…should we do this later, maybe?" and tolkien's like "oh, no. he'll be out for a while. sleeps like an angel, snores like a bulldozer. very heavy too; wouldn't wake up for the apocalypse. now...where was i? oh, right! i Do think the system is inherently classist and fueled by capitalistic greed." HSADLKS

anyways...live laugh tyde, everybody.

-uncle nina, destroyer of sacred sp canon

p.s. i do think their running joke is don't sleep with anyone or fall for anyone else lmaoooooooo

OKAY EDIT: I HAD CLYDE HAVE TOLK TRY GREASY NASTY AMERICAN BOY FOOD ONCE AND…

ROOOOLLLL CLIP!

i love them oh my goddddd

#no one ask me abt craig and those guys i'm embarassed #like i am deadass insecure abt not being confident in those characterizations considering i usually am smh #i do feel v confident in clyde and tolkien tho i seriously love them like clyde is like yuh skeet bruh dolla dolla bills fuck bitches get $#tolkien is like Scuse Me Love But Would You Mind Providing Me A Light? Of My Life Or Otherwise ;) Cheers Darling! <3 #hey bro x hiya babes supremacy truly #*also tolkien vc everyday* tie ur trainers!!! >:O #*clyde also everyday* doesn't and eats shit on the pavement #tolkien does nag him to take his meds everyday #he's like And Don't Be Late #clyde's like taking my oxybate ya ya whatever mary poppins #like you better marry that man and pop those pills clydesdale #i also think that they watch a lot of shows together and clyde is like DONT START IT WITHOUT ME and tolks like ok dont be LATE then?#smh #boys boys boys #sorry ill go back to being a style girlie #they’ve just been on my brain lately #also this is slightly off topic #but i think clyde has a touch of the tism #and his thing is DINOSAURS #and clyde just nerds out for 15 minutes abt different dinosaurs and tolk sketches him #them drinking tolks fancy boy ipas on their single dorm room bed #watching their netflix show all like wHAT NO WAIT #them like bro!!! bruv!!! dUDE!!! MATE!!!#CHEEKY LIL SNOG WHEEEN

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sunflowerheartsandstarryskies · 2 years

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Stranger Things That 70s Show AU~ That 80s Show

That 80s Show Background and Headcanons

(Eventual Eddie Munson x fem!reader)

Author’s Note: This is for the eventual fic that I want to write because I am soft for grumpy x sunshine otps and Jackie x Hyde were the definition of that. So the background is important for this AU I think.

Who knows if I will fully write a fic about this? But I love this idea, I just don’t know if anyone else will. I also wrote this while I was bored at work if you couldn’t tell.

I don’t know if I should cross-publish here and on AO3 or just AO3??? Idk? This really is a “guess I have to do it myself” fanfic scenario, as I am combining one show with a fav of mine.

Background/Headcanon:

✌ I had this in my head for a while so this is what you need to know if you haven’t seen That 70’s Show. The main group is a feminist, a conspiracy hippy, a horny foreign exchange student, a peppy cheerleader, a complete dork, and the definition of getting by on looks alone.

✌ I am getting rid of Fez’s character (the foreign exchange student) because I don’t know where to include him in this story, he wouldn’t fit in Hawkins.

✌ This is also a universe where the Upside Down doesn’t exist, and that means everyone lives! So now they are living in a goofy sitcom show instead of a paranormal drama show.

✌ I think Robin and Donna from That 70’s show would get along up to a certain point. Robin and Nancy I think could make a total feminist power couple. Nancy has the “I will fuck shit up and you up if you don’t listen to me” like Donna had and Robin has a better sense of humor than Donna.

✌ Steve could make a total Kelso and Eric combo. I feel like he’s got some hidden nerdiness in him that he doesn’t want to be known, and in this AU he’s childhood friends with Nancy, Robin, and Eddie and so this confident, popular act makes a sort of shield around his friends, to know they can’t be messed with. He also babysits the neighborhood kids from time to time, and so he’s the golden boy of Hawkins, popular, sweet, and responsible.

✌ Eddie I feel is a mix between Hyde and Eric, he’s definitely gotten the bad boy look down, listening to rock and metal, dealing weed, but he’s a total dork like Eric. He loves D&D, and Tolkien, and probably loves Star Wars and Star Trek as well.

✌ The town judged him too quickly based on his looks so the inner nerd in him kinda quiets down and is only known by his close friends. He becomes more theatrical, and dramatic, though, and starts to rave on the different conspiracies of the world to anyone who listens.

✌ Steve’s parents are Kitty and Red, since we don’t see the actual Harringtons, and I love them.

✌ The reader is a ray of sunshine, femme, and a cheerleader, who would fit into the role of Jackie but not outright Jackie. She’s into Star Wars and D&D but has to keep that quiet because she doesn’t want to get kicked off the cheer squad. She’s friends with Chrissy and they get along fairly well. She would be considered the golden girl of Hawkins.

✌ Steve keeps hitting on her (think like Season 1 or 2 Steve) and he won’t take the hint to leave her alone. She gives in and says one date and the possibility of meeting his friends as well (since she’s hoping to meet Eddie through Steve). He’s ecstatic and thinks that’s like two dates.

✌ She’s immediately drawn to Eddie, even with Steve hitting on her, she’s always had a thing for the whole bad boy aesthetic, and knowing Eddie likes the same music and movies as her??? Yeah, she’s full-on crushing.

✌ Eddie at first tries to keep up this grumpy bad boy facade so that the reader doesn’t know he likes her and also doesn’t want what little of her social status is left to come crumbling. However, once he knows she has an inner nerd like him, he kinda becomes his full dorky self that everyone loves from the show.

✌ The AU starts with everyone the same age, 16-17, in high school, so they are sophomores in high school at the start.

#stranger things #stranger things fic #fanfic #steve harrington #stranger things au #that 70s show au #eddie munson x reader #i guess but thats more so in the fic then here i guess #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler

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voidartisan · 1 year

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Welcome to the blog.

Make yourself at home

(Fic masterlist below the cut)

🔹She/her, arospec ace

🔹I go by AJ, or Void, if that feels more natural to you

🔹Psychology student and former gifted kid waiting for the burnout to hit 👍🏻

🔹Member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints

🔹Usually screaming about Star Wars (mostly the prequels, or, let’s be honest, anything with Obi-Wan Kenobi in it for more than .05 seconds)

🔹Also a fan of lots of other media, including but not limited to: Tolkien's Legendarium, The Queen's Thief series, Howl's Moving Castle, Pride and Prejudice, Parks and Recreation, Pirates of the Caribbean, The Princess Bride, Wooden Overcoats, Avatar: The Last Airbender, The Lunar Chronicles, and some of my beloved childhood fandoms

🔹Occasional artist (read: doodler), slightly more frequent writer

🔹I have one sideblog, @arafinweanappreciation, for Tolkien content

🔹I really REALLY like answering asks so don't be afraid to inbox me random questions etc. if you ever want to

🔹I try to be diligent about organizational tagging for characters and fandoms so things will be easy to find, as well as spoilers for blocking purposes

🔹 #void doodles - my art tag

🔹#about aj - stuff about me!

🔹#talking into the void - mostly me rambling about irl stuff

🔹 #aj writes - just about anything to do with my adventures in fanfic writing

Currently reading: Rebel Rising by Beth Revis

Fic Masterlist

Obi-Wan and Ahsoka:

against the dying of the light: Sometimes your master's master has more influence on your training than you think. And sometimes they send you a physical reminder.

i saw waves lifting the sea: queer grandmaster-grandpadawan bonding. that's it. that's the fic.

softly in the gloom they heard the birds: you know that meme where the two characters are both trying take a bullet for the other??? yeah.

it's cold on the floor: very short one-shot that i wrote entirely for the joke at the end. potentially the only thing i've written that doesn't contain any angst

Obi-Wan and Anakin:

i owe it to my brothers: an anthology of obi-wan and anakin snippets, currently very short

Disaster Lineage:

fallen sentries: A post-Lawless Arc story focusing on Obi-Wan's particular method of grieving, and how Ahsoka and Anakin have to figure out how to deal with it.

resemblances: Ahsoka looks back on her masters and her training during her time in the Rebellion

come by it honestly: a snippet of Obi-Wan and Ahsoka dealing with Anakin's nonsense, even (especially) when he's not around.

you cried when you cut your hair: exploring lineage dynamics through padawan braids

Other:

rumors: Korkie knows about the idle gossip of his aunt's court, but it can be difficult to separate truth from baseless speculation.

ori'vode: Cody is (unintentionally) emotionally assaulted by a preteen [i had to make this summary humorous because i DID cry while writing it. multiple times]

ahsoka tano gets her man: the fluff filler episode of clone wars i always wanted but never got, feat. obitine, korkie and ahsoka friendship, and obi-wan and ahsoka bonding.

to catch a tooka: it is a truth universally acknowledged that all stray cats must be in want of a teenage girl to adopt them

the final standing domino: Omega gets curious about some old holos Echo is looking at. Angst ensues.

scars: Obi-Wan and Cody snippet from the early Clone Wars, feat. Cody acting his (physical) age for approx. 2 min.

sabacc face: trapped in an escape pod? nothing to do? consider card games and accidentally digging up old family drama/trauma

it's every breath that comes before: short qui-gon death fic. his pov for the theed generator fight in tpm. i made myself sad

the sincerest form of flattery: omega is growing up a little too fast for hunter's taste, and not fast enough for hers (fluffier than it sounds)

AWOL: an angsty one-shot written in honor of cody's first awol-iversary

Modern AU:

and we don't notice any time pass: the main body of the modern au. constructed almost entirely of song lyrics, nostalgia, and and found family tropes. the clone wars but make it napoleon dynamite. sort of

#pinned post #renovating and updating the blog #don't mind me #changing all the stuff i did when i first joined and thought my tolkien sideblog was going to be my most active #before the star wars brainrot #tbh i think switching my icon from the bonfire to Judgmental Cody (TM) has really altered the mood #aj writes

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em-writes-stuff-sometimes · 1 year

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Would love to know what your favorite books are! Or authors you look up to or are influenced by.

Ooooh, this is such a nice question!

My favourite author as a child was Enid Blyton (keep in mind I didn’t know she was an abusive parent and an overall dodgy person at the time); so I constantly read ‘The Famous Five’, ‘The Magic Faraway Tree’, ‘The Secret Seven’, ‘The Naughtiest Girl’ and the like. They’ve been old books for a while, so I feel like the outdated prose has been a pretty significant influence on the development of my writing style, even as a child.

I’ve enjoyed all the typicals - Harry Potter is a favourite, though I refuse to acknowledge the author of that series, and TBH I’ve always enjoyed Tolkien’s ‘The Hobbit’ far more than ‘The Lord of the Rings’. My favourite book is ‘Jane Eyre’ because I’m a basic literary bitch, haha, though I also enjoy the hell out of the bubbly ‘Pride and Prejudice’. As someone dabbling with writing, I tend to try to emulate this kind of style, because I just find it so comforting? Like, I grew up with older books, so reading old-fashioned prose makes me warm inside. Then I ruin it with smut lol.

I was obsessed with ‘Twilight’ as a teen. I said it. Prose might be lacking, but the ideas are good, and I don’t take criticism on that opinion haha. The ‘Inkheart’ series by Cornelia Funke is BAE. I’ve read Martin’s ASOIAF series, but I’ll freely admit that I kinda enjoy the show medium a little more. I know, blasphemy. I’m a book snob, but not a purist. If the adaptation is good, I’ll be a ho for it, and with the exception of what they did to my girl Dany I loved the TV show. Nowadays, I prefer reading history books or medieval biographies - I stan ‘The Life and Death of Anne Boleyn’ by Eric Ives, an absolute BOMBER of a biography.

I’m probably leaving things out of this list, but the main point is that I’ll essentially read any and every kind of book, and I like to think they’ve all left their own imprint on who I am and what I like. I hope this answers your question - thank you!

#random asks

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ao3feed-tolkien · 1 year

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cherries (trop!galadriel/fem!reader)

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/GuJsM3T

by hoeziersleaf

In a party full of elves and music and pink cherry flavoured drinks, our main character finds herself in the company of Lady Galadriel, or Galadriel, as she insists she calls her, alone, with Galadriel, it sounds like a dream almost. Almost except she doubts such an incredible and confident elf would like her. Sorry for the semi crappy summary D: this is my first fanfiction ever (also not really proofread sorry)

Words: 2793, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power (TV 2022) RPF, TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/F

Characters: Galadriel | Artanis, Galadriel (The Rings of Power), Reader, Female Reader - Character

Relationships: Galadriel | Artanis & Reader, Galadriel | Artanis/Reader, (The Rings of Power) Galadriel | Artanis/Reader

Additional Tags: top galadriel, bottom reader, Cunnilingus, Scissoring, Slow Build, is this slow build?, i am simply simping for galadriel always, rings of power galadriel has infinite rizz always, she can top me any day, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Control, Thighs, Vaginal Fingering, head - Freeform, Oral Sex, Eye Contact, reader cant hold eye contact with her to save her life, Kissing, Gentle Kissing, French Kissing, Girls Kissing, galadriel is a lesbian, Gay Panic, Blushing, am i using tags right ??, My First Fanfic, pls be nice, One Shot, Admiration, admiring, Second Age (Tolkien)

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/GuJsM3T

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #Tolkien #JRR Tolkien #Tolkien works #ao3 #fan fiction

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breathlesswinds · 2 years

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(Devlog) Worldbuilding for Beginners & Fanfic Writers

Amelia here, the writer of Breathless Winds - by now, I'm going to assume most of you have played the free demo of our upcoming visual novel, but if you haven't, then check out the link! In this devlog I'm going to be reflecting on the worldbuilding and character choices in the demo - I hope it's applicable to other writers who want to practice these in their writing, especially those who got their start in fanfiction.

"Fanfiction? What are you talking about?"

I, like many of my peers, got a start writing fanfiction. I firmly believe this is real writing and I'm not interested in entertaining arguments- my reason for bringing this up is simple. If you primarily have background writing fanfiction, you likely don't have as much experience creating worlds or original characters.

That's not a personal failing - it's one of the joys of fanfiction that you can find more content of your favorite characters and settings. But the reader already has an investment in and familiarity with the world and characters going into a fanfic, and they don't have that with your original work.

Some fanfiction authors over-correct this mistake by heavily explaining the world and the characters in the opening of their original work. Although Tolkien could get away with a severely heavy hand in worldbuilding, it's because he defined the fantasy genre; for the rest of us, nothing makes readers close a game or a book faster than a huge exposition dump.

Write Like It's Fanfiction

Therefore, I encourage you to play to your strengths and write your original work like it's fanfiction: as if readers are already familiar with the world and characters. You'll want to explain some things (Breathless Winds isn't free from exposition), but from context clues, readers will pick up on key aspects of the world and characters and feel smart for doing so - and you avoid the exposition overload.

One way we accomplished this was by avoiding an abundance of "fantasy names." There's never a moment where a character asks our heroine, "are you going to the Gaia Albatroisia?" followed by a lengthy explanation of what that is. Fantasy names like this can add to the world's mythos, but an abundance of them tires out the reader and adds to the amount of required exposition. The names in the world of Breathless Winds are descriptive (e.g. "Castle Island").

Introducing the Main Character

Our heroine is a young trans woman who doesn't yet know she's trans- for this devlog, I'll be using her true name, Poppy. There are plenty of hints early on about her being trans:

... like her not caring about her appearance but obsessively removing stubble, or being afraid of becoming more masculine, or feeling dread toward the future (Rue's dialogue refers both to this and to an actual disaster coming to Two Elk Island).

I hoped trans readers would pick up on this. The marketing for Breathless Winds clearly states our heroine is a trans woman who doesn't know she's trans yet, but this isn't stated in the demo of the game. Some trans narratives are more cut-and-dried ("I always wanted to wear a dress", or "I hated being called a girl"), and that's some people's true experience— but for a lot of transgender people, the clues were more subtle (a general sense of unhappiness with/detachment from the self and dread towards the future, for example). Poppy's experience is the latter.

Breathless Winds has an island fantasy setting, and I wanted my choice of wording to reflect this. I've tried to avoid using conventional terms like "trans" or even slang terms like "egg" (a trans person who is in denial/doesn't know they are trans). It's for that reason that Poppy has 'Melancholy' instead of 'Depression'. 'Melancholia' draws back to the four humors theory (I won't go over it here to save time), and both that and 'melancholy' were used historically as ways to describe depression.

How does this help you?

Well, let's reflect on what we learn about Poppy in the first five minutes.

Her parents are gone and she has a sense of pressure to be the "man of the house."

Grandma refers to the "incident", but doesn't say what it is or why it happened.

She mentions Gallardia visited her a lot during her recovery- establishing the fact that Poppy has been in recovery for a long time and Gallardia is a close friend of hers.

Poppy struggles with melancholy, and Grandma is close enough with her to guess that's her problem, but not close enough to guess what the melancholy is really caused by.

Grandma assumes that the melancholy is due to her family, but Poppy tells us in narration that she only lets people think that's the case.

Our goal was to immediately establish Poppy's backstory, her relationships with those close to her, and her central conflict. As I mentioned in my first devlog, a key to making compelling characters is to make them want something. Poppy's wants aren't immediately stated (partially because she's the main character- some of her desires are shaped by the player's choices), but we wrote the opening scene with the intention of conveying these points:

Poppy wants to find her place in the world (and although she doesn't know how to word it, she wants to find her true self as a trans woman). She's become an outsider to her community and her loved ones due to her long recovery.

Poppy wants to live up to the legacy her parents left behind and be "man of the house".

Poppy wants to take a final step in recovering from the "incident", leave her room, and begin spending time with Gallardia again.

What I'm trying to say is, when you're establishing your main character, think of exactly what their most important qualities are (especially "what do they want?") and how to communicate them without literally having them list them out loud.

(Sidenote: although Two Elk Island, the game's setting, is a more matriarchal culture, there are occasionally references to 'man of the house' or 'being a man'. Many transfeminine people have been pressured to conform to a masculine role (often a toxic one), and we wanted to touch on this briefly without heavily introducing concepts like patriarchy and transphobia.)

Creating a Setting

The demo is more focused on establishing the basics of the world and the characters than getting too deep into the mythology behind Two Elk Island, but there are still subtle clues.

If you choose not to flirt with Valerian, Poppy will ask Valerian what he would ask for as payment for working with him. Valerian comments that he would try to establish trade with the other great islands, and remarks with disdain that Two Elk Island doesn't often use currency.

This further fleshes out the world at large (we learn there are not only other islands, but great islands, presumably Castle Island being one of them) but the setting of the game (Two Elk Island, a small and rustic island, relies more on barter and goodwill than commerce and currency).

At this point in the game, we know little about Castle Island except for that it's renowned for its order of knights and that the prince is searching for a cure for the sickly king. These few lines firmly put it in opposition to Two Elk Island's status and way of life.

Rue's introduction focuses on her saving Poppy from a 'monster'- a fish spirit- which has become aggressive. Rue notes that the spirit isn't malicious, but is lashing out because of how it and its kind have been mistreated by poachers. This swiftly establishes the concept of spirits - mythical beings who may be animal-like but are not animals - and the people who hunt them.

It was important that these conversations feel natural. Rue doesn't explain to Poppy what a poacher is because she already knows. Why do they hunt spirits? What purpose do spirits serve in the world if they aren't inherently malicious? Hopefully these lines have sown intrigue in the player and will encourage them to learn more about the world.

You see all the time in fiction that characters will explain their plans to each other in excruciating detail, even though they already know (TV Tropes refers to this as 'As You Know', as you... may know). This does establish worldbuilding and character details, but it's far clunkier than just writing as if the reader already knows.

Your Medium at Large

Beyond just conveying details through writing, Doris- the game's artist- did a fantastic job conveying worldbuilding and character details through her art.

Let's use Poppy's bedroom as an example. We see it's a little empty, with an overload of neutral colors like white and brown. Bedrooms can reveal a lot about personality, Doris and I hoped to suggest Poppy's been dealing with feeling muted and without significant attachment to things around her.

If you look closely, you can spot her few personal possessions - the calligraphy set and the books show us some of Poppy's few hobbies.

As a bonus for reading this devlog, I'll tell you that the mermaid wood carving is a gift from Gallardia. With the inclusion of spirits in an island fantasy setting, we knew that mermaids would exist, even if they didn't play a central role in the story. Poppy admires mermaids- their beauty, their freedom- and thus the sculpture is another trans metaphor. It's also meant to show her close friendship with Gallardia; although we don't get to see Gallardia's bedroom in the demo, you may spot some gifts from Poppy as well in the full release.

Valerian stays at the local shrine while he's on his quest. If you look in the background, you'll see a wood carving of what appears to be an elderly figure. Although we don't meet the Elder in the demo, this statue hints at her existence and the matriarchal lineage of Two Elk Island.

The point of this is that Breathless Winds is a visual novel - a lot of information about the characters and world is expressed through the sprites, backgrounds, and other game assets. Although it's increased the development time to use original backgrounds instead of stock photos or simple color backgrounds, the result is that much more detail can be communicated (as well as a nice-looking finished product).

Route Selection & Queer Coming of Age

As a final note, each of the four love interests has an established (albeit fantastical) career, and the route selection is framed as going to work with one of them. Gallardia is a sailor, Lantana is a healer, Rue is a witch, and Valerian is... well, a prince.

Each character is a young adult - they have a few years of experience in their field, but are still figuring things out. By comparison, Poppy doesn't have a job and isn't sure of her place in the world.

A typical coming of age story is set during adolescence. For a lot of LGBT people, however, the actual adolescent years are a great time of confusion and unhappiness. Self-understanding and actualization for many of us comes later on, such as the 20s and 30s (or even later!). This is the concept behind the route selection and why we chose the characters' ages.

Breathless Winds is a visual novel that everyone can enjoy, not just people in the LGBT community. It's our hope that Poppy's story can shed light into transgender experiences in a genuine way. Despite this, there are many things- from Poppy's dysphoria to this type of route selection- we hoped that LGBT players would pick up on and identify with.

This section is one last subtle worldbuilding tip, actually. Have you ever heard "write what you know"? Yes, a lot of writers consider that advice to be trite - it's why there are so many novels by old male writers which are about old male writers. Supplanting what you know with research will always give you a richer narrative, even if the results of your research don't appear directly in the story.

Even so, lived experience can bring a piece of writing from good to great. Doris and I are both LGBT, and we hoped to express some of our own experiences through various characters in Breathless Winds (which ones? what experiences specifically? not telling).

This doesn't necessarily mean "write a self-insert" (there isn't one in Breathless Winds, there's no character who writes extremely long Tumblr posts), but rather, writing from a personal and true place can make a work more resonant and help connect with readers.

Ending (or, "I didn't read all this. What are you talking about?")

Writing advice is dime-a-dozen and extremely subjective. What works for me might not work for you. And I don't mean to inflate my ego with this post or pretend I never make mistakes - we all do, and that's how we learn.

With that said, here have been my takeaways from writing the demo of Breathless Winds:

Don't be afraid to write settings and characters as if the reader already has some familiarity to avoid the dreaded 'exposition dumps'

Leverage your storytelling medium to communicate detail and build intrigue

Research, but write with lived experience when you can.

Thanks for reading!

#otome #breathless winds #writing advice #writing #lgbtq #visual novel

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rivalsforlife · 2 years

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Finally Making A Post Of Everything I’ve Ever Thought During The First Two Episodes Of Rings Of Power. I was going to do it sooner but wasn’t doing well for a weekend and then forgot. SO here it is to add to the Tolkien Adaptation Opinions pile while I delay going back to the jackson hobbit movies.

Please keep in mind this (and other posts I’ll make about this show) will have spoilers for stuff that will happen later that’s in the books, on the off chance a) people are reading this b) people don’t know what happens in the books and don’t want to be spoiled for it happening in the show. okay. here it is. This is mostly for me, please don’t feel obligated to read it got really long and rambly.

I’ll try to keep this coherent and go chronologically somewhat but I don’t feel like watching two hours again so I’m going off of memory. I’ll try to be more on top of it for the next episode haha.

SO honestly I wasn’t feeling it for a while but luckily I warmed up to it a bit more as it went on. I wasn’t a fan of the other elves bullying Galadriel in the beginning since she’s like... their princess. (Unless they’re sons of Feanor. I DID spot a redhead. I’m assuming that’s either Amrod or Amras since Maedhros should be quite significantly older than her.) I’ve read stuff since saying that it’s alluding to the kinslaying despite the part where they can’t use the kinslaying since it isn’t mentioned in the appendices and I can appreciate that but it just came off kind of odd to me.

Crazy we got to see Finrod though!! He... did not look how I expected. But honestly I don’t think there will ever be an adaptation that will do the Silm Elves the way I imagine them, except maaaybe if it were animated. I did laugh at the “I won’t always be here to tell them to you” “You won’t?” bit because I do think it’s in character for Mr. “AN OATH TOO I SHALL SWEAR AND MUST BE FREE TO FULFILL IT AND GO INTO DARKNESS”. finrod man can you have a normal conversation with galadriel for once.

Also like I mentioned in my immediate fairly spoiler-free opinions post I made just after I got back from seeing it in the theaters, it is weird seeing them skip over my favorite parts of my favorite book. “We left Valinor and went to Middle-Earth” YEAH A LOT HAPPENED IN BETWEEN THERE. but it’s fine. It’s not a Silm adaptation. It’s fine. It’s fine........

Oh also I did start getting a little teary when I saw the trees, but it was too brief for me. I think if they had a longer scene with the trees and the beauty of Valinor before Morgoth destroyed them it would have Hit a little bit more, but I’ll live.

The main Problem I have is that they seemingly changed Finrod’s death. Or at least didn’t talk about him dying to protect Beren, which I really think is an important thing to keep in given the Ring of Barahir (formerly Finrod’s) is an heirloom of some of the Numenoreans, and if you’re having Galadriel go there why not capitalize on that!! Plus him going after Sauron felt kinda... unnecessary. I think you could totally have Galadriel desiring revenge against Sauron without Finrod also having that vendetta. Like, “My brother was captured and tormented by Sauron” would be vague enough but also consistent with canon. I kind of wonder why they did it that way...

Anyways I should take this opportunity to talk about The #Girl Of All Time. I like that they didn’t shy away from making her proud and headstrong. Though they did change her motivations to something more relatable than the version I prefer which is the “I want to stay here and rule my own kingdom, because I am more powerful here”. And honestly I’m kind of vibing with it. Like, I love Aragorn, they completely changed him in the Jackson movies, but I still really liked his character in spite of it being different. So I can go with Galadriel here.

The main parts that bugged me about the Galadriel parts is kind of... her status among the elves. Particularly her relationship with Gil-galad. I get GG is the High King and such but Galadriel is his... aunt. cousin once removed. relative who is older than him. who knows. but you don’t get that impression, and she can’t even really go and talk to him herself. Overall GG is the one I’ve been most disappointed by so far, and I’m really hoping that changes as we learn his motivations more, because I really do want to be sad when he dies. I want to be able to potentially accept him as the son of one of my favorite characters. And so far I’m not feeling it.

Elrond too came off a little bit too... insincere at times. Particularly in the first episode. Too politician-y in particular. Which is honestly a major letdown for me considering that I loved all the interviews his actor did. I’m hoping, again, that gets better -- I did like him more in the second episode, so hopefully it was just a bit of a rough start.

ALSO. THE HUAN STATUE. I’m assuming that’s Luthien with him!!! That’s such a nice reference I love it. I also saw a video pointing out another statue seemingly depicting an elf holding the dragon helm of dor-lomin and theorizing it’s FINGON which is also very emotional. Other theories are that it’s Beleg. We didn’t get a close-up shot like the one with Huan so I can’t tell if there’s seemingly “plaits braided with gold” there. but maaaaan fingon :( still the silm death that gets me the most.

Let’s see what else... Galadriel going to Valinor was on my “I Do Not Want This” list. but I think they did it about as well as they could. I get they’re trying to have a representation of her refusal to go to Valinor that’s not just her standing there and saying “I refuse”, and trying to fully capture like the weight of what it means to her to refuse that call, and I can stand by that even though I don’t like the circumstances that she was kind of forced into it by GG and Elrond. The Golden Portal-looking thing felt a little much though it didn’t bother me as much as it bothered my dad. And I didn’t mind her jumping into the ocean honestly. I don’t think it was a calculated decision at all. It was out of desperation to avoid going to Valinor no matter what. like Amroth, which is fitting, though Galadriel got luckier.

... Stuff other than Noldor happened in this first episode too but I have far less opinions on them.

Harfoots: They’re cute. I like how they still have some of that Hobbit flavor to them with the gossipy ladies. They aren’t my favorite parts because I am tragically whipped for anything Noldor-related, but they’re so far a perfectly fine part of the story.

I’ll just do the episode 2 stuff here since I don’t really have much more to say on specific events. The Stranger... I don’t think he’s Sauron. Though he clearly is a Maiar of some sort. I don’t want him to be Gandalf? I’ll be fine with him being a Blue Wizard. One theory I have going around my head (though I’m not sold on it) is that he’s a maiar of some sort who got tortured by Sauron and escaped in the meteor somehow. I think he’s lost control over his powers which is the cause of the firefly killing thing. It’s interesting how his arrival kind of coincides with Galadriel refusing the call, plus all the stuff GG says about Galadriel inadvertently awakening evil, but I think it would be too much for him to be Sauron right now. I really don’t want Sauron interacting with Hobbits or pre-Hobbits because I think that really takes away from the later third age stuff. so... yeah.

I did have Tom Bombadil as my joke theory but I think he’s way too troubled for him. So... maybe someday Tom :( I believe in you. You’ll get into something that isn’t the bad Soviet TV adaptation of Fellowship or Lego LOTR.

Southlands: It’s an interesting concept considering my immediate reaction to hearing that their ancestors sided with Morgoth was along the lines of “THAT FUCKER ULFANG THAT GOT FINGON KILLED.” so I can buy the elves holding a grudge. It’s an interesting thing with the elves distinctly remembering these people who did things that messed up pretty much everything, and sided with Morgoth, in their own living memory, while for the humans this was a thousand(s) years ago and there’s really no reason for them to still be there.

I don’t love the romance, but I didn’t expect to, because I don’t normally go for those things. The one elf made a comment of “there were only two elf-human romances and they both ended in tragedy” well.......... I get you could argue beren and luthien had a tragic ending but honestly compared to the rest of the first age that’s the happiest ending you can get. And Idril and Tuor are totally fine, the Fall of Gondolin stuff wasn’t really their fault. Think this elf guy needs to brush up on his history :/

Also there’s Aegnor and Andreth which definitely was tragic enough to not actually become a marriage, that’s kind of how I feel this Arondir-Bronwyn thing is going to turn out. (though I think Bronwyn is more likely to die first than Arondir). The kid is definitely a future Nazgul candidate with that sword with the Sauron mark on it. ummm what else. oh yeah they talk about how they had a king that’s going to come back. My bets are either on Halbrand or Theo being descendants/heirs of that king. And then whoever is the heir is absolutely going to be a Nazgul. I was debating if Halbrand could be Theo’s long lost father but honestly I think that’s unlikely, Halbrand mentioned being from the other village that got destroyed, so.

Not loving Halbrand right now either he hasn’t made much of an impression. Hopefully that gets better.

hmmm while we’re talking about Southlands stuff I liked the fight with the orc. It’s a good baseline for how dangerous orcs are for people who aren’t trained fighters!

ANYWAYS BACK TO THE NOLDOR. CELEBRIMBOR. I was so mad about this because I hated the first picture released of Celebrimbor like I was crushed, but the actor nailed it for me in those five minutes he was around. Right from “true creation requires sacrifice” to the passive-aggressive comments about Gil-galad to the gushing about the dwarves and wanting to see them at work. All fantastic. I just wish he didn’t look like that I’m sorry mr charles edwards. Now I’m sure I’ll get over it eventually.

Anyways, in more detail, I was clutching my popcorn and kind of swinging my legs when they were talking about it being Feanor’s hammer. Forced exposition? I don’t care! They’re talking about Feanor! Every time Feanor is mentioned I’m imagining like... you know that one blind guardian tides of war song where they’re regularly going “FEAAAANOOOOR” that’s what’s going on my head every time I think of him along with pillars of fire and strobe lights. (If you’re still reading this I’m amazed.) I love that Celebrimbor has that hammer. I also liked their little exchange with Elrond talking about the Silmarils being things that created “so much beauty........ and so much pain” and Celebrimbor going “true creation requires sacrifice” THE SACRIFICE OF ELROND’S MOM AND DAD AND YOUR DAD AND UNCLES? I liked that little bit. So much fun.

And honestly I liked the little invented story about Morgoth and the Silmarils. I don’t think it’s meant for us to take it as canon. But it is a little bit of myth that I do think Celebrimbor would latch onto. And then the “but I aspire to do far more than that” YES! BRING ME THAT CRAZY FEANORIAN ENERGY!!!

Also why do you need that forge done by Spring, mr celebrimbor... I do think it would be a lot of fun if Sauron-as-Annatar is already here. Everyone’s like Halbrand is Sauron! The Stranger is Sauron! No he’s already here he’s already talking about some nice powerful rings.

The little comment about “The High King... cannot provide that, so he sent me you instead!” with that pained smile. I WANT NOLDOR INFIGHTING. It’s some of the best Silm parts. As the last representative of the house of Feanor Celebrimbor has to bring it against Gil-galad who is either of the House of Fingolfin or the House of Finarfin. I get Celebrimbor isn’t as extreme but a little lingering bit of that old family resentment would be sooo cool to hint at. Especially since like... who does this guy think he is! We don’t even know who is dad is! And he’s going around being the High King! (Like I said I don’t like GG so far.)

Anyways I hope we get Narvi eventually and we get to see him work with Celebrimbor making the Doors of Durin. I want to watch that Star of Feanor get carved into it. Again Celebrimbor has been here for five minutes but he’s my favorite so far, which is deeply embarrassing. I have not improved from being fifteen. I see a Feanorian and I’m spellbound. I liked how excited he was about the dwarves. It felt VERY Feanorian. I know some of them worked with the dwarves and in particular I think Feanor would have loved those guys. So Celebrimbor kind of felt the most... I don’t know how to put it. Enthusiastic. Which he should be! Totally sold on him. And I am SO relieved about that, you have no idea, that I’m willing to set aside the appearance concerns.

okay I should probably talk about the dwarves and not just what Celebrimbor thinks of the dwarves. They’re lots of fun. I do wonder where this Elrond-Durin friendship thing came from? It’s an interesting choice. Khazad-dum is beautiful, I liked the relationship between Durin and Disa, so I overall don’t have any complaints here. But I also don’t have a ton to gush about because I’m not as crazy about dwarves as I am about the Noldor. You may be able to tell.

What DOES interest me is what’s in that box at the end... it looks glowy. The obvious and simplest and best answer is that it’s Mithril. Maybe they just found it in Khazad-dum. The absolute batshit theory that’s in my head (along with the “Maglor is in this” and “the Stranger is Tom Bombadil” theories) is that it’s a Silmaril. It would be Maedhros’s Silmaril. That would break me beyond repair. It would also be really bad and really funny. If it IS a Silmaril I want nothing less than Elrond going “PUT THAT THING BACK WHERE IT CAME FROM OR SO HELP ME.” but obviously it’s going to be mithril.

... okay the thing is when I saw this in theaters I THOUGHT I heard the Valinor leitmotif when they opened the box which would definitely be a Silmaril hint, but when I rewatched when it was actually out it definitely was not that, but had some of the notes that play when you’re in Celebrimbor’s place, which is definitely more fitting for it being mithril, so crisis averted.

uh does that cover everything? I think that covers everything I had immediate opinions on. I didn’t take notes for this which I probably should have done... well. Episode 3 is next, it’s actually surprisingly common for me to get hooked on stuff on episode 3, so I’m hoping they do that for me. It’s definitely numenor time this time which will be fun. earendil statue here I come! and maybe we’ll get to see something about that cult of morgoth eventually.

But an overall summary of my thoughts so far:

The Best: Celebrimbor

The Good: Dwarves, Harfoots, Southlands, Galadriel (with some reservations on her storyline)

The Mediocre: Elrond

The Uhh I Hope We Fix This Quick: Gil-galad

Overall I’d put it at about a 7/10. Lots of stuff I’m excited for or am at least wiling to hear out until they fully convince me about it. I’m a bit put off by some of the changes to lore re: Finrod, Gil-galad presumably forcing people to go to Valinor. But they’ve still got some time to go to convince me of that.

Look the only other adaptation that’s covering some second-age stuff we have is the Shadow of Mordor/War games talking about Celebrimbor. So as long as they do better than that (which is not hard!) I will be content. That’s my baseline and so far they are well above it ESPECIALLY on the celebrimbor front.

I’ve been typing for an hour. I’m going to stop now. Thanks for bearing with me and if you actually read all that... incredible. Have a virtual cookie from me.

#lotrop #tolkien adaptation rankings #(more like opinions since I can't rank this at two episodes)#(but I want to find it again)

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septimaseverina · 4 months

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Why Am I Getting Back to Tolkien's Fandom : The Holding No Grudge And About D*mn Time to Take Unhealthy Memory Away off My Chest.

TW & CW: Shitpost. Long Post. Rambling. Millenial Gen's Stuffs. A Bit of Language. Mention of Bullying. Mention of Depressive Disorder.

(You can skip this post.)

Okay, I think it's time to manifest myself from what I'd held as grudge for years. Because this post reminds me, in the positive way.

I've started to fond of and love The Lord of the Rings when I was in my primary school; my younger brother and my sweetest best friend forever introduced me to the Middle Earth, and yes, I fall for this magical and charming fandom right away. We can talk about LOTR universe for hours.

When I was in middle school, I met my another best friend forever. She loves many things, which similar to me, one of them - LOTR universe. And we were like many teenage girls who have big crush over Legolas and Aragorn, we had been co-writing modern girls in Middle Earth fan fic, also she even illustrated our writing. Her arts are unique and incredible.

Time went by, I was lucky again to meet the friends who shared the love of LOTR in high school (somes stop contacting friends after graduating and somes get the new lives - lifestyle changing). But all the joys from the Middle Earth weren't lessen, I drew fanarts and exchanging fics in friends' circle. We knew that our fics were cringy, but we were enjoying and care-free to write.

At University, that was the peak of fondness and love toward LOTR universe. Before The Hobbit : Unexpected Journey dropped, they released DVDs - extended limited edition with beautiful artworks on iron boxes, including BTS. Thought they were getting my allowance much, but I was willing as a fan (I still remember I must had instant noodles as meals for half month 🤣). And I kept rewatching them whever I wanted, instead of the old VCDs. And I was super happy, because my professors are fans of LOTR too. Sometimes they talked about films and books in classes, but I didn't mind. And it was surprised that a teacher in my faculty is the one who translating the main trilogy books, she was my another best friend forever's professor!

When The Hobbit was dropped, me and my younger brother went watching the film at theatre in the city, with new Dolby Atmost system and super ultra HD screen. That was good experience.

But that time, I had been in one Japanese Anime+Manga's fandom too, since I was in 11th grade. In the community's webboard, I had spent most time in Fan Fiction forum. Because I wrote many fics, I happeneing to befriend with many lovely members.

And when I moved to University and a member in my circle returned back from Canada, we held many meetings. We usually roastes on junks-so-called-novels many times, then we established a webboard for writing parodies and satires to those shits with our totally new OCs - which not related to any fandoms. And yes, in the circle, LOTR and The Hobbit Trilogy are everyone's favourite. We talked about them for hours in webboard's chatted box.

In new webboard, we took turns on theme and universes for our OCs, for writing novels and roleplaying. And we all knew that if one OC has romantic relationship with another in each universe, it have to be fixed in those universes. No crossing. But it happened. By the one who returned from Canada and I was always respecting her as close as sister. Then I felt so bad about her, but I never talk to anyone in the group, except my best bitches forever who happened to be my roomate that time.

She did that many times, people who involved with the characters were confused, but let her did them. The real things are she becoming the real bitch and arsehole. And I swear, I'm not lying. Many people in the group I've still befriended with seeing what she had done to me and others, like a jerk.

Twice (or three) meetings, I didn't be at the places on times because of traffic jams. I did say sorry to everybody, they forgave me, but that bitch acted like she was idiot. Yes. After we agreed what would we had for lunches, she hit her head to the back rest, or sometimes, making complains but not directly. And they were not end easily, she kept sabotaging me on chatted box in front of everyone. A few friends soothed me that they were alright. Until one day, when the last Hobbit's film was dropping, we discusses in chatted box, I mentioned; Which characters in Tolkienverse were alike to our OCs.

Yep. It was like volcano erupting gravely and heavily. She threw tantrum over me about how dare I calling myself as a fan, why did I state some headcanons which weren't popular (and don't suit with her preferences) and why was I being the big fucking idiot - talking shits. And she couldn't stand me anymore. So I apologise her of what had I done wrong. After that, whenever I posted things on my Facebook which did not concern about her at all, she usually roasted me or the proper word was carping.

Whilst at the world outside internet, I had been stressful for years, since my Russian grammar examination's scores were awful. I couldn't be able to enjoy many things which usually gave me joy and happiness, including Tolkienverse. I told myself that they were just stress, and they would go away. But they didn't

Every single time I picked up the book or DVD, my thought was keep getting back to that slut. Even my best friends forever couldn't help me in long term. I stopped rewatching all films and re-reading all books, and retreating myself to be alone. That's the time I have depressive disorder. The cause isn't entirely because of that wench, but she is a part in this whole rubbish things.

Can you believe? I had been abandoned Tolkineverse for 10 years. Everytime I saw anything relating, I felt so bad and going down, even lower than the ground - living in the hole might be precisely.

But, last year, I've been recovered and (kinda) back from the death. I manage, deal and break all traumas; since I've this thought - "Why am I let those shits and nonsense which consuming my happiness and stealing my joy as human away? I must fight them, confront them and destroying them, If I want to be happy again with my life and enjoying things around me, including long lost fandoms.

I've been breaking down in processes many times, but I make it out alive. Also, those things truly go away and became only past traumas which I can talk about them without being triggered.

As you've seen, I reblog many stuffs from multifandom that seem like they're new, but no, somes are my old loves. Tolkienverse is one of my old loves. I won't tolerate to live with bullshits from one whore, who doesn't have anything to do with me. No more! She had haunted me and taken all my joys as her entertainment too long, even I've stopped contacting her for years. WHO THE HELL IS SHE? HOW DARE SHE?

I'm gonna let all grudges and the ghost of that bitch's going away with this post. Times up. I'm not a puppet for anyone to manipulate me. I'm human. I don't have to be a people-pleaser to make every one loves or likes me anymore. And I'm not gonna let others taking my happiness and joy away in harsh way. I'm gonna stand strong, tall and proud. Because what I've loved and fond of are not crime. Myself must come first.

Fuck all people who messed up with me and my life. Take your ugly arses to hell or whever you prefer. I hated you all once, but now, you are nothing more than garbages I can throw away and forgetting now.

#sept.txt #phewwwwwwwwww #that's feel so good #but I won't do it again in near future #also things I love come back to me right now

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rosamelancholica · 9 months

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For the very long ask game: 5, 7, 9, 11, 13, 14, 18, 21, 22, 23, 25, 28, 32, 33, 36, 37, 40, 45, 47, 49, 52, 57, 60, 65, 69, 71, 79, 86, 96, 98, 99, 128, 138, 140, 148, 160, 197, 216. Feel free to ignore any question that feels too personal or if they're just too many and you don't feel like answering every single one.

Want to know me better? Send me any number!

5: Book/series I reread?

I reread The Hobbit once. The first time I read it was eleven years ago for school. My classmates convinced our substitute teacher to make it our reading assignment for that term because the first Peter Jackson adaptation was coming out that year. I read it and enjoyed it (it was one of the best book assignments I ever had and I remember it very fondly) but I didn't really get into Tolkien until I watched the films. I reread The Hobbit in English when I became a Tolkien fan.

Fun fact about The Hobbit for me is it was the book I analyzed for my end of degree project at university so I reread parts of it then too. I knew I wanted my project to be about Tolkien and I originally wanted to make it about The Lord of the Rings but The Hobbit suited the topic I ended up choosing better and it being a shorter work also made it easier for me.

I wanted to reread The Lord of the Rings too when it was my main obsession but I never found the motivation to reread the whole thing, only the first chapter on Bilbo and Frodo's birthday to celebrate. It's the chapter I remember most fondly and definitely my favourite. I think I read the whole Harry Potter series again once a long time ago but it's not something I usually do. I don't really have a favourite book so I don't have a book I keep coming back to.

7: Writer I trust enough to read whatever they write?

J.R.R. Tolkien, Jane Austen and Louisa May Alcott.

9: Favourite flavour of anything?

I'm not sure I have a favourite but I like chocolate and vanilla.

11: Favourite song?

cardigan by Taylor Swift.

13: Favourite word?

Ethereal.

14: The last person who hurt me, did I forgive them?

Yes, she didn't mean to hurt me.

18: Movie I watch when I’m feeling down?

Usually Cinderella (1950). I used to watch The Fellowship of the Ring several years ago and the last one I watched when I was feeling down was Frozen.

21: What am I most afraid of?

People (I have social anxiety) and the future.

22: A good quality of mine?

My depth of sensitivity and emotion.

23: A bad quality of mine?

I'm very insecure.

25: Actor/actress you trust enough to watch whatever they’re in?

Noah Schnapp. Not so much because I trust him (I do) but because I really want to watch everything he's in (not that much so far, he's young).

28: Something I miss?

When my life was simpler.

32: Someone I love?

My beloved.

33: Someone I trust?

My sister.

36: My current obsession?

My beloved.

37: Favourite TV shows as a child?

The New Adventures of Winnie the Pooh was my absolute favourite but I also liked Hannah Barbera shows (Wacky Races, Top Cat, Pixie and Dixie and Mr. Jinks, Tom and Jerry), Pink Panther, The Powerpuff Girls, Winx Club, Bratz, Trollz, W.I.T.C.H. and Kim Possible.

40: What do I think about most?

My beloved.

45: Last film I watched?

The Peanuts Movie, such a cute funny feel good movie. I watched it mostly for Noah (he voiced Charlie Brown and was absolutely adorable <3) but I enjoyed it a lot, I love it. ♡

47: Favourite animal?

Swan but I also like birds in general.

49: Superpower I wish I could have?

Invisibility.

52: When do I feel most at peace?

When I'm asleep dreaming of my beloved.

57: Favourite drink?

Camomile tea.

60: Pet peeve?

Running into people I know on the street.

65: What fictional universe would I like to be a part of?

I've always wanted to be a fairy tale princess but that's too vague and doesn't really answer the question.

If you had asked me this question about five years ago, I would've said Middle-earth, the Shire specifically, without hesitation. I was in love with it, my dream was to live in Bag End, but now I think it would be nicer and cozier to be Beth March for a day.

Back then, I also would have loved to be a Hogwarts student but now I think it probably wouldn't be as nice as it sounds. I still occasionally come up with Hogwarts AU situations in my head though.

I would love to live close to the Hundred Acre Wood so I could meet its inhabitants.

And although Hawkins is definitely not the best place to live, I'd love to have the chance to see Will.

69: What do I admire most about others?

Their ability to do usual every day tasks effortlessly and have the energy to basically live their lives.

71: Something I wish I could do?

Have the life of my dreams.

79: Sunsets or sunrise?

Sunsets.

86: Who is my hero?

96: Can I cook?

Will the Wise: intelligent, creative, resourceful and most importantly selfless.

Kinda, a few very simple dishes like omelette and pasta but nothing very elaborate.

98: 3 things I love?

Music, fiction, nature.

99: 3 things I hate?

Not being taken seriously, being undervalued, others being insensitive or inconsiderate.

128: Do I admit when I wrong?

I guess? I try.

138: Do I believe in second chances?

I generally do, though it depends on the case. I do if the person is willing to take them.

140: Do I believe people are capable of change?

Yes, if they are willing and committed to change.

148: Which fictional character do I wish was real?

Will Byers.

160: What colour mostly dominates my wardrobe?

Blue, I think. I also have pink, purple, green, grey and white, but I would say it's mostly blue, it's my favorite color.

197: Something I hated as a child that I like now?

The Nightmare Before Christmas, I guess. I wouldn't say I like it now but I don't hate it anymore. I'm mostly indifferent though I still think it's creepy.

216: Favourite fictional character?

Will Byers (Stranger Things), Beth March (Little Women), Princess Aurora (Sleeping Beauty), Frodo Baggins (The Lord of the Rings).

Thank you so much for asking. ♡

#questions

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thelovelybitten · 10 months

Text

vera's first watch of south park -- season four (part 4)

LORD THIS IS SO LONG SD GSDBGKSBKJ

EPISODE 11:

AYO WHAT IS THIS BEEEEAAAT BRO?!?!?!?!?!?!?

THIS INTRO IS SO GOOD I AM SHAKING ASS

12/10 INTRO CARD SLAYED THE HOUSE DOWN BOOTS HOUSTON I'M D E C E A S E D

they are now 4th graders !!! they abt to be 9 years old !!!

wendy and BEBE MY KIDS IN FRAME I LOVE IT

stan be for real Y'ALL AIN'T ABT TO SHOW ASS TO THE NEW TEACHER

BUTTERS JKDNSGJNJKDSNGKJNDFK HE'S UNHINGED UR HONOUR

I am looking respectfully. this lady's breasts are ENORMOUS

MS. CHOKES ON DICK ARE U CEREAL SDJFBJISDBGK

stan, baby, we gotta work on ur jokes.

THE WAY IT WAS ONLY CARTMAN DSAHFBJDSBG GET BONED

TWEEK IS ME FR

cartman in his elvis era

NO NOT CLYDE CRYING JSDFBGKJSDBKJHBKSD MY FUCKING BABY DON'T CRY MI AMOR

clyde and wendy giving butters the bombastic side eye

these boys abt to use timmy as time travel bait NOT COOL

Mr garrison?!?!?!? where art thou

wendy sussing out the specifics iktr

damn. timmy went flying.

nah not y'all doing timmy dirty...

WHAT THE FUCK LADY DON'T GRIND YASELF ON TIMMY HE DID NOTHING

20 MINS UNTIL TIMMY IS BLOWN UP. I HOPE WE NEVER GET THERE

Mr garrison backstory damn

of course they gonna put kenny w the exploding chair I mean how else this man gonna die huh

OMG EW U ARE SICK FOR THIS DEATH

TIMMY SAYING PLS HELP???? HIS FIRST WORDS

OH FUCK THERE HE GO INTO SPACE

NO NOT THE PREHISTORIC TIMES

MR GARRISON AS A MONK FOR MISS CHOKSONDIK

garrison pls just come out as gay PLEASE THIS PONDERING IS SO BORINGGGG

THANK YOU LORD

all the FACULTY BEING SUPPORTIVE OF GARRISON AS THEY

F U C K I N G SHOULD

I take it back, y'all freaks

EPISODE 12:

ITS BEEN A COUPLE WEEKS BUT IM BACK AND THIS INTRO STILL BUSTS DOWN HOLY

IKE IN A BUSINESS SUIT ?!?! clean af boi

FIRST DAY OF KINDERGARTEN !!!

NOT KYLE AND CARTMAN HAVING THE SAME THING

cartman always 1 uppin Kyle LMAO

who the fuck is this man.

BILL COSBY ?!,!

KYLE GET HIM

Stan being the voice of reason so real

NOT THE KIDS BULLYING IKE BOOO

Mr.Garrison bro these kids understand jack shit

KYLE BEING SMART he’s that straight A kid wbk

Kyle and Ike geniuses

CARTMAN RELAX LANDISMXKMAKD

STOP IKE IS QUAKING

BILL COSBY STEALING THE TRAPPER KEEPER LMAO

FLORA 💘 A BABY GIRL

KINDERGARTENERS RIOTING

Cartman UNHINGED

OH HE A ROBOT ?!?!,

so basically Eric destroys the future alright

FLORA DECIDED !! IKE SLAY

LMAOOOO THE RECOUNT

the kiddos are FERAL

KYLE AND CARTMAN FIGHTING FOR NO REASON

everyone okay with killing cartman

“KISS YOUR ASS GOODBYE FAT BOY” Stan spitting facts

DAMN THEY GETTING THE BIG GUNS IN

OH FUCK THAT THING IS SCARY

liane my beloved

LIANE OH MY GOD SHE GETTIN ROBOT DICK

OH FUCK CARTMAN OH NO

NOT KENNY

JESUS CHRIST OH MY GOD

liane still getting it tho LMAO

OH god KYLE it’s gross in THERE

NO KYLE MY KING SAVE HIM

MR GARRISON POPPED AWF AS HE SHOULD 💅🏻

this cartman monstrosity makes me physically sick

IKE WINS LIKE THE KING HE IS

cartman this is so gross

Stan forcing cartman to thank Kyle and doesn’t HAHAH

EPISODE 13

AAAAAA STENDYLEEEEE

Wendy looks SO CUTE JEICKSKXKDKXKC SHE IS THE GHURL

Stan and his fake beard WERK

KYLE MY SON

I’ve been famished of stendy/STENDYLE content pls excuse me

STENDY HAS A DAUGHTER OH MY GOOOOODDDDD

Timmy LOL

BEBE MY GIRL LETS GOOOOOO

BUTTER SPRINTING

CLYDE AND TOLKIEN OH MY GOD SO CUTE

the kids are so cute I can’t

Wendy speaking boosts my serotonin

GOBBLES :)))))

Timmy protecting gobbles is so sweet

OH FUCK TIMMY SAID JUMP THRU THE RING OF FIRE

AWWW GOBBLES SLEEPING W TIMMY IM CRYING SO WHOLESOME

Clyde slayed

THE KIDS ARE SO CUTE DANCING

kybe crumbs they beside each other

TURKSLAY

BEBE MAIN SLAYER

OH FUCK KENNY

Gobbles sacrificed Kenny for himself not slay

this man manipulating Timmy NOT COOL

cartmans brain is so whack

EW SOME OF THESE VISUALS ARE SO DISTURBING I can’t

NO TIMMY IM SORRY MY LOVE 😭😭😭

NOT HEIDI’S DOG :((((

ALL THE DADS SETTING UP CAMERAS LIKE DADS DO IS SO CUTE AND VERY WHOLESOME 😭 very slay of them

I SEE WENDY AND TOLIKEN CHITTY CHATTIN IN THE BACK 👀 SPARKS ?!?!

DONT KILL GOBBLES

OKAY PRODUCTION !!!!

OH DAMN THEY KILLED SO MANY TURKEYS

STENDY MOMENT STENDY MOMENT I LOVE THEM I LOVE THEM

singing for their fake baby IM DEAD

I have BIG FEELINGS FOR MY KIDS

STAN AND WENDY YELLING AT THE PLASTIC BABY WHY ARE THEY SO UNHINGED I LOVE THEM

them faking their deaths to end the act is so REAL. no one is doing it like my kids ON GOD

NO HE SHOT TIMMY

IM SO UPSET

WATER HELEN

I know WENDY HITTING THAT HIGH NOTE I JUST KNOW

OH FUCK THEY KILLED THAT TURKEY ON THE SPOT

gobbles !!!!

butters. Oh my god

Okay another part bc I fear the character limit

#faves: south park #viv watches #THE PLAY EPISODE FUELED MEEEE #i missed stendy so much ugh thank u lord #bonus stendyle content ALSO FUELED ME #but when i tell you that the new intro HAD ME ABSOLUTELY ASS SHAKING #literally SHOOK ME TO THE CORE #SUCH A BOP

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pedrito-friskito · 2 years

Text

the way we were / the way we are - chapter 1 - the first time ever I saw your face

summary: you meet james buchanan barnes for the first time while he’s working in his father’s bookstore, barnes and noble.

warnings: none here! tooth-achingly sweet fluff :)

a/n: pls be gentle with me okay thanks xoxo gossip girl

(series masterlist) (main masterlist) (ao3)

Late summer, 1942 - Brooklyn

The first time you met James, you were both so young. Green, innocent, whatever you want to call it. The war had yet to take anything from you, the world had yet to show its true colours. And yet your whole life was changed by a pair of steel-blue eyes, a devil-may-care attitude, and a book.

The Hobbit, by J.R.R. Tolkien.

You found the book all on your own, having wandered in the bookstore after accompanying your mother to do her shopping. She’d ran into someone she knew from church and had got to talking, and had all but waved you off when you tugged at her sleeve and pointed towards the bookstore across the street, Barnes & Noble.

You’d never set foot in the store before, but you knew the stories that had been gifted to you on past birthdays and Christmases had come from its shelves. Bells jingle when you open the door, signalling your entrance to the employees. Inside, the place is nearly dark, the walls lined with dimmed lights and mahogany bookshelves holding more books than you’d ever seen in one place before.

A young girl with brown curls and horn-rimmed glasses sits behind a cash register, a yellow-bound book in her hands and a large orange cat lounging at her elbow. Her gaze flicks from the page to the doorway when you walk inside, but other than a quiet hello and an offer to help if you need it, she doesn’t move. You don’t mind, knowing full well how enrapturing a good book can be.

The collection of titles lining the shelves is impressive, and you manage to spot a few well-known titles. Pride and Prejudice, Wuthering Heights, Frankenstein. All stories you’ve devoured, read the pages over and over so many times the plots are engraved in your brain.

It’s the spine that catches your eye, the book bound in light blue canvas, the title and author printed in black, along with some kind of geometrical shape and what looks like a mountain along the top.

You’ve barely got the book off the shelf when a voice comes from behind you. “That’s a good choice. One of my favourites.”

His voice is so deep you nearly jump out of your skin. The book goes tumbling from your grasp, bouncing across the floor. You turn on your heels, skirt flaring out as you do. He dips to the floor as you turn, picking the book up carefully and handing it back to you, cover facing up.

Your eyes go to his mouth first; perfect white teeth, a grin that hitches to one side a bit, a jaw lined with enough shadow to show the promise of a beard. But instead he’s clean-shaven, hair pushed back over his forehead with a single strand falling across his brow. Your gaze moves to his own next; blue eyes that glint like polished steel, crinkling at the corners as he grins at you. There’s something so kind in his eyes, something warm and inviting that leaves you standing there stock-still, mouth gaped like a fish on dry land.

When he presses the book into your grip, your fingers curling around it instinctively, you just stare down at the cover, willing your brain to come up with something, anything to say.

“I’ve been looking for something new to read,” you say finally, pulling the book to your chest. “Need something to occupy my time.”

The blue-eyed stranger before you just nods, understanding. “Well, you might need a few more than that. I read it in one sitting, couldn’t put it down.”

“The best stories have that effect, don’t they? I read Gatsby in an afternoon.”

His grin returns. “You should let me take you out, show you a good time,” he says, voice low but brimming with confidence, a slight blush rising in his cheeks. “Always liked a well-read dame.”

You can’t help but laugh. “You don’t even know my name.”

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

Another grin. “Pretty. I’m James, but you can call me Bucky.”

“Bucky?” you repeat, quirking a brow. “How do you get Bucky out of James?”

“You ask him nicely.”

He’s an awful flirt, and a complete stranger, but you still can’t stop yourself from grinning. Your mother would be having a fit if she could see you. But life has been so dark lately, the threat of war looming over the whole country like a storm cloud. And there, in between the shelves of a bookstore, you saw light.

You perused the store a little longer, Bucky at your heels, murmuring recommendations every time you lingered at a shelf for longer than a second. You end up with a copy of Tender Is The Night, another Fitzgerald, along with The Hobbit.

You’ve been gone long enough that you’re sure your mother has finished her conversation with her friend, and is probably about to come looking for you any second. You tell Bucky as much and he steers you towards the register, nudging the young girl still behind the desk. “Go upstairs, Becca,” he mumbles, taking the books from you and ringing the prices on the register. You reach into your bag to pull out your coin purse, but Bucky waves it off once he sees it. “Put it away. These are on me.”

The girl – Becca – looks at him pointedly. “You know Daddy will take those out of your pay.”

“Go upstairs, Bec,” Bucky says, pulling a pen out from one of the desk drawers and scribbling on a receipt, “or else you can stay home the next time Steve and I go see the Dodgers.”

The almost-threat seems to do the trick, because Becca collects her book without another word, scooping the orange cat into her arms and disappearing through a door you hadn’t noticed before. You tuck your coin purse away, watch as Bucky wraps the books in brown paper, folding the edges expertly and tying them up with twine. Your fingers brush when you reach for the wrapped books, and Bucky lets out a little laugh that makes something leap in your chest.

“Mmm, free books and a date,” you muse, unable to stop the grin that pulls at your lips. “I should run errands with my mother more often.”

“So that’s a yes then?” he says, his voice hopeful as he tries to catch your gaze again. “To the date.”

“It’s a yes, Bucky,” you reply. You reach for the pen he’d used for the receipt, flip over the paper, and scribble your phone number on the back of it. “Give me a call the next time the Dodgers are in town.”

You’ve never seen such a grin. It lights up his whole face, sends a swarm of butterflies from your stomach to your brain and back again. Light, you think. A light in the impending darkness.

The bells over the door jingle as they had when you’d walked in, and you both look over to see your mother poking her head into the store. “There you are, dear!” she says, and you see the twist in her expression when she sees Bucky standing there. “Come now, time to get going.”

“I have to go,” you say quickly, gathering the books and reaching over to squeeze Bucky’s wrist once, “but I’ll be waiting for that date.”

To his credit, Bucky doesn’t keep you waiting for long.

The moment you walk through the front door, your younger sister, Jane, is on you, all bright eyes and imposing questions. “Who is he?” she asks, her voice excited, grabbing at your wrists. “Where did you meet him? Why didn’t you tell me about him?”

“Let her breathe, Jane,” your mother scolds, hanging up her coat. “We’ve only just walked in the door.”

“Y/N didn’t tell you?” Jane says, her voice climbing and you have half a mind to clamp your hand over her mouth. But then- “She’s got a date tonight!”

You do?

Your father rounds the corner then, a broad grin on his face. “With a very nice young man, it seems,” he declares, walking over and putting his arm across your shoulders. “James Barnes.”

Your stomach flips, butterflies stretching their wings, and your mother is shooting daggers across the hallway.

“Is that the boy you were talking to in the bookstore?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s always been a skeptic, especially when it comes to you and Jane dating. No one is ever good enough for her girls, polite enough or handsome enough. Any of the boys Jane has tried to bring home have barely made it through the front door. Your father was a little more lenient, always intent on showing who was boss, be it with a man-to-man chat on the front porch, or that he would be conveniently cleaning his rifle when a potential suitor came to retrieve either of you for a fun night on the town.

The key is to make it past Mama, and so far, no one has.

A funny little voice in the back of your head is hoping that Bucky will.

“Relax, Beth,” your father chides, releasing you and stepping between you and your mother. “I just talked to the boy. He comes from a good family, has a good head on his shoulders. And besides, it’s just the pier.”

The pier? More news to you. “Daddy, what exactly did he say to you?”

Your father shrugs. “The usual; that he thought you were pretty – which of course he did, my girls are beautiful – and that he wanted to take you out, show you a good time. Poor kid was talking about a baseball game, but I talked him down to a nice night at the pier.”

“Tonight?”

He just nods.

“And I can go?”

He grins at you again, cupping your cheek and letting out a little chuckle. “Of course, you can go, sweetheart. He’ll be here to pick you up after dinner, and I’ve already told the boy he needs to get you home before nine, not a minute later.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Jane lets out an ear-splitting squeal and drags you up to her room, desperate to get you ready before dinner. You’re halfway up the stairs when you hear your mother’s hushed whispers, and your father’s nonchalant replies.

“Do you think she’ll ever stop?” you ask, following Jane into your shared room. She shuts the door behind you and immediately crosses to the closet, pulling out a few of your dresses and some of your own.

She holds up a black dress spotted with a white collar, cream buttons up the front. “Not until there is a ring on your finger, Y/N, and even then she’ll have something to say about it.” She holds out the dress to you. “This one?”

You shake your head. “It’s a first date, Jane, not his mother’s funeral.”

She rolls her eyes at you and returns to shuffling through the closet. “So, tell me who he is!”

You recount the story, giving Jane enough details that she listens like you’re the radio in the living room playing her favourite music. She’s always been a sucker for a good romance; reading has never been her favourite, but anytime you find a new romance, she’s the first to ask for the gory details.

By the time Mama is calling you for dinner, you’ve settled on a navy dress with white flowers, with a little grey sweater over top. You wear your hair down, pinning up one side with a clip. Jane won’t stop fussing, adjusting your skirt with every step down the stairs.

Dinner is quick and painless. Mama stays quiet the entire time, but Daddy fills the space with stories about his day. In truth, you’re only half-listening, watching the clock, hovering in your seat, waiting for your cue when the doorbell rings.

Six o’clock on the dot when the bell sounds, and you’re out of your seat and down the hallway before your mother can say otherwise. You grab your purse on your way, slinging it over your shoulder before you open the door.

Bucky’s there, somehow looking more handsome than he had earlier in the day. His hands are folded in front of him, a single coral-coloured rose tucked between his fingers. He wears the same dark pants from earlier, shiny dress shoes tapping nervously against your porch, and a grey button up that makes his eyes look like a brewing storm.

The grin he gives you sends the butterflies that are apparently taking up permanent residence into a frenzy, and you grip the door handle for some kind of support. “You look even more amazing than you did earlier today,” he says, holding the rose towards you. “How is that possible?”

“You must be having a lucky day,” you reply, taking the rose and lifting it to your face. The scent fills your nose and you let out a low sigh. “The pier?”

Another grin. “Your father’s idea. I didn’t have the heart to say no to that man.”

You smile back and he turns to stand beside you, offering his elbow. You slip your hand into the crook of his arm and let him lead you down the front porch. “You could have told him you wanted to take me to the moon, and he still would have been overjoyed,” you admit, “but it did sound like you won him over on the phone.”

Bucky laughs, veers right at the sidewalk, and starts to lead you in the direction of the pier. You let him, hand staying tucked in his elbow, still holding the rose to your nose. “I don’t usually win fathers over that quick.”

“Oh?” you say. “Have that problem with all your girls, do you?”

He laughs again, and lord, you want to bottle the sound. Or find a way to trap it in a seashell, so you could hold it up to your ear and hear Bucky’s laugh instead of the ocean. You shake your head slightly; you’ve been getting ahead of yourself since the moment you laid eyes on him. “The fathers are usually make or break. If you can’t get the old man to let them out of the house, you don’t stand a chance.”

“Hah! See, in my case, it’s not my daddy you should concern yourself with. If you want a second date, you’re gonna have to get through my mother.”

His eyes widen. “Second date? Already thinking past tonight, are we?”

“I, uh, what I meant-” you sputter, looking down at your feet.

He halts, putting his hand over yours. “I’m only teasing, Y/N. Now, c’mon, I promised a good time.”

It is a good time. More than a good time.

You talk the whole way down to the pier, swapping stories and listening to each other. Bucky tells you about his family, about his four siblings and his parents. He tells you how his father co-owns the bookstore and that all the kids take turns working the cash. He tells you how Becca had ratted him out the moment they’d closed up shop, and that his mother had immediately asked which books you’d picked.

“She likes to read almost as much as I do,” he tells you, his mouth close to your ear.

He tells you more about him, too. Talks about what he liked in school, how he’s still thinking about college even though he graduated a few years back. How he’s not sure what to do, knowing there’s a war going on somewhere else in the world, that people are dying with no one to protect him. He gets a funny look on his face while he talks about the war, almost confusion filling his eyes and making him worry his lower lip between his teeth. It’s endearing, and only adds to the kindness you’d pegged him for the moment your eyes met.

“I just want to do something that means something, you know?”

You nod. “I do.”

He tells you all about Steve, too, his best friend since they were kids. Scrawny little thing, he tells you, always sick with one thing or another. “Lost his dad to the war, then his mom a few years ago. Tuberculosis. Sarah was a nurse; she always knew what was wrong with Steve, and how to fix it. I used to run to the pharmacy for her whenever he got sick. She taught me how to spell writing prescriptions.” He chuckles at the memory, his gaze going faraway. “I worry about him.”

You laced your fingers with his then, squeezing his hand between both of yours. “I can tell.”

You reciprocate his stories with your own, telling him all about your parents and Jane, about your friends and what you’d like to do once you graduate.

You tell him how Daddy fought in the first war, how he always said the only thing that kept him going was that he knew he was coming home to Mama, and to you. They’d married the night before he’d been shipped out, and you’d been conceived that night too. Daddy learned they were expecting in a letter Mama had penned him, telling him he better hurry back to meet his baby girl.

“She says she just knew I was a girl,” you say, remembering the stories, all the times you’d asked her to tell you about the letters, about how she felt when she found out about you. “She just knew it.”

Bucky grins at you. “I bet she didn’t know you’d be so beautiful.”

You’re stopped at the edge of the pier, waiting in line to pay the admission, and there’s only an inch between you.

Bucky’s staring at your lips and you’re staring at his and one of you leans forward but you can’t tell who and-

“Next!” the voice in the ticket booth calls and both of you flinch, backing away from each other, Bucky instantly heading for the booth and tugging you behind.

The rest of the night is spent in sugar-laced bliss. You munch on cotton candy and ice cream, cinnamon sugar pretzels and caramel apples. Bucky pulls you around the pier quite literally like a kid at a carnival, and even manages to win you a small stuffed cat by throwing a dart at balloons on a cork board, and you immediately name it after him.

When he hands it to you, his hand closes around your wrist, and he leans in so quick your breath escapes all in one big rush. His lips are warm and gentle on your cheek, the smallest hint of stubble scraping against your skin. He pulls back after a second, his lips leaving a lingering imprint on your cheek, and you immediately blush, putting a hand to your face.

He offers you his elbow, nodding towards the tall ferris wheel towards the end of the pier. You nod, grinning, and take his arm.

“Where you been hiding all this time, huh, doll?”

You let yourself lean into him a little as you walk. “Caught behind the bookshelves, I guess.”

Bucky grins, then consults his watch. “I told your old man I’d have you home in an hour.”

“Enough time for a ride or two,” you reply, and now it’s your turn to pull him into the queue for the wheel. When you get to the front, Bucky hands a ticket to the guy running the line and then you both file into one of the cars. A thin metal gate slides into place, and then you’re moving, lifting into the air with a creak. You can’t hold back the squeal that escapes you as the wheel moves, and tuck yourself close to Bucky’s side. He puts his arms around your shoulders, squeezing softly.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers, mouth by your ear again. “I’ll keep you safe.”

Where you been hiding all this time? he’d asked. Really, it should have been you asking him.

You’re not quite sure where it comes from. You know exactly what your mother would say, but as the ferris wheel reaches its peak and the whole city comes into view, you don’t care. There’s nothing else in that moment, nothing but the warm, solid man beside you with his more-than-kind eyes and his almost devilish grin. You hear his slight gasp as he takes in the sight, his fingers squeezing your shoulder again.

You turn to Bucky, hook your finger in the collar of his shirt, and kiss him, full on the mouth.

He flinches at first, clearly surprised, but he doesn’t pull away. His lips are as warm as they’d been when he’d kissed your cheek, and he tastes like sugar and something else you don’t have a name for. The arm around you curls tighter, pulling you closer, and his other hand is on your cheek, fingers just brushing your hair.

He breaks away first, face still hovering in front of your own, and he pushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “You know,” he says, “I’ve been on this thing dozens of times with Steve, but I think this has to be the best ride yet.”

You giggle. ��And who’s the better kisser, me or Steve?”

It’s a bold joke, and there’s a spark of red in Bucky’s cheeks, but then he kisses you again, lips moving slowly and oh-so-gentle.

By the time the wheel reaches the ground, you’re breathless.

You have enough time for another ride, but Bucky pulls you towards the end of the pier, ducking behind the stalls and food stands until there’s only wooden planks beneath your feet and a few street lamps lighting the pier.

“Where are you taking me?” you ask, fingers still laced with his. You can’t bring yourself to let go.

“I wanna show you something,” he says, and stops to kiss you again under one of the lamps.

You keep going until you reach the very end of the pier, where the lamps peter out and there’s only a low fence standing between you and the harbour. You’re a little skeptical, looking over your shoulder every few steps, but Bucky doesn’t hesitate.

He lifts your joined hands when you reach the end, twirls you around under his hand and then pulls you against him so your back is against his front, and his arms are around your waist. You cover his hands with your own, wrapping your fingers through his.

“Now, look up,” he whispers in your ear. And you do.

Stars. You’ve never seen so many stars. Constellations and shapes you’ve only read about in books, the moon hanging in the sky in a perfect crescent, framed with smoky clouds. A tiny gasp escapes you, your hands clench over Bucky’s, and you lean your head back on his shoulder, wanting to take in every last inch of the night sky above you.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmur, unable to tear your eyes from the sight. “Absolutely beautiful.”

“It’s not the only thing,” Bucky says, his voice low. He lifts one of his hands from your waist, tilts your face towards his, and he’s kissing you again.

It’s bold, you know, to be kissing a boy you’ve known less than a day this much. But when he pulls back, you see that kind, genuine look in his eyes you’d first seen in the bookstore, and you can’t bring yourself to care.

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” you whisper, reaching up so your hand rests on his chest.

He grins, leans in and pecks you once. “You’re the only one I wanna say it to.”

You just shake your head at him, still tasting the cotton candy on his tongue.

Bucky has you home right on time, walking up the porch steps just as your watch shows nine o’clock. He leaves you with a lingering kiss that warms you all the way down to your toes. “Come by the shop tomorrow,” he asks you, “and have lunch with me?”

You nod. “I will. Thank you, Bucky. I had a great time.”

“Pleasure is all mine, doll, believe me.”

He bounds off the porch without another word, broad grin still visible on his face as he disappears down the street.

The minute you walk in the door, Jane is on you yet again, desperate for details. “Later,” you tell her. You step into the living room to say goodnight to your parents, Jane hanging on your wrist like an impatient toddler.

“I’m home!”

“Did you have a nice time?” your father asks, craning his neck to look at you.

“The nicest. He asked me to have lunch with him tomorrow, if it’s all right with you, Mama.” You normally have lunch with your mother and Jane every day, but you can’t imagine she’d object to the slight change in plans.

But she says nothing.

“Of course, sweetheart,” your father answers instead, looking pointedly at Mama, who still stays silent. “He seems like a very nice boy.”

“He is.”

Jane all but drags you up the stairs after that, yelling good nights over her shoulder as you go. You show her the little stuffed cat he’d won for you, and she nearly swoons onto the bed. When you tell her about the ferris wheel, you don’t think you would wipe the grin off her face if you tried. And when you tell her about the pier and the stars, she squeals so loud you’re pretty sure only dogs can hear it.

What remains of your summer is spent with Bucky.

Any waking moment the two of you can manage to spend together, you do. Nights at the pier, picnics in Central Park, baseball games, afternoons spent reading in the dark corners of the bookstore. It’s a summer full of stolen kisses and shared stories, and Bucky even manages to survive dinner with your family.

Mama still isn’t completely sold, but she admits to you one night before bed that he is indeed, “a very nice boy.”

You meet Steve shortly after the night at the pier, when Bucky takes you to a Dodgers game. Steve’s a gangly little thing, but he’s soft spoken and sweet and polite and you take a shining to him immediately. He’s quiet, but when you start talking about the war, what you’d heard on the radio earlier in the day, he comes out of his shell, giving you all the details he knows, even when Bucky tells him to stop.

“You’re gonna scare her off, kid,” he chides, putting an arm over the back of your seat. “Wanna keep this one around.”

Steve just grins at you. “I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem, Buck.”

You meet the rest of the Barnes clan, Becca having already described you in detail to her other siblings. Bucky’s mother is just as warm and kind as he is, welcoming you with open arms and a tight hug. “So you’re the one who’s been stealing my James away all the time,” she says, taking a step back and cupping your face in her hands. “I can see why, beautiful girl.”

“Beauty and brains,” Bucky’s father comments, grinning at you over the top of his newspaper. “James can’t keep his mouth shut about you.”

Dinner is loud and raucous and the complete opposite of what dinner is like at home. They never stop talking, and the constant noise is comforting, in a way.

“James tells us you like to read,” his father says, pulling your focus away from the rest of the table. It’s like a magic word, and the two of you spend the rest of the night talking about books and authors and how Barnes & Noble came to be.

“You know,” Bucky teases later that night when he’s walking you home, “I’m not sure who likes you more: my parents, or me.”

You grin, letting out a little scoff. “It might be a tie. But your mother did tell me that I’m her new favourite child.”

Bucky makes a face, hand on his chest like he’s been wounded. “Ouch. That hurts, Y/N. That really hurts.”

You grab the front of his shirt and pull him close, planting a kiss on his mouth that makes you forget about the chilly October air for a moment. When you pull back, he leans forward, chasing another kiss, but you won’t let him. “Am I forgiven?”

He lets out a little huff that sends a spark of heat through your body. “Always.”

#the way we were / the way we are #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #the winter soldier #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes smut #the winter soldier fic #the winter soldier smut #bucky barnes x y/n #my fics

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