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therealdisneyfan2319 · 10 months

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The Spider and The Witch Chapter 2: The Visitor and The Proposal

Summary: After gaining Spidey powers in an experiment gone wrong, Y/N finds an unexpected visitor in his room who offers him the proposal of a lifetime

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader

Warnings: Mild language

Word Count: 1.2K

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

The last person you expected to see spinning in your desk chair was Tony Stark.

“Holy shit!”

“That would be ‘holy shit, Mr. Stark’ to you,” Tony answered as he grabbed your desk to stop himself from spinning.

“Sorry, Mr. Stark,” you mumbled, dropping your backpack to the floor.

“I’m kidding. Just kidding. Ask Peter, he’ll tell you about my sardonic sense of humor.” He extended his hand to you. “You must be Y/N.”

“Yeah,” you gulped as you shook his hand. Your hand was sweaty. Hopefully he didn’t notice or care too much, but the Tony Stark was standing right in front of you, shaking your hand, in your bedroom.

“Peter told me about your little…mixup in the lab the other day.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, wandering around your room as he looked at everything on your shelves. “Guess that’s one way of testing your experiment.” You chuckled weakly, watching him as he picked up a science fair trophy you’d won in high school. “First prize, huh?”

“Junior year. Natural occurrence of bioluminescence in various ecosystems.” You felt wildly inferior telling the head of Stark Industries about the science fair project you spent hours working on back in high school. But you figured Tony wasn’t here to discuss your high school endeavors. “Mr. Stark-”

“I get it. You’re a busy man, I’m a busy man, let’s cut the bullshit and get right to it. You can do things now, things some people only dream of. I’ve been looking for someone to take over for Peter for a while now. The job’s yours if you want it.”

“Mr. Stark-”

“It’s a lot, I know. One minute you’re studying for…what are you studying?” He snapped his fingers and cocked his head as if he was trying to remember a long forgotten conversation between the two of you.

“Biochemistry. Studio art minor.”

“One minute you’re studying for your bio midterm, the next minute you’re hanging from the ceiling and shooting webs out of your wrist-?” He looked down at your arm hanging by your side, almost asking you to show off. You flicked your wrist in front of you as a web shot wildly from your wrist, landing on the window over to your left. “Aim’s a little off,” Tony noted, “but we can work on that.”

“Mr.-”

“Peter’s old room is free. You can take that. It’s right next to Vision’s. He’s got a bit of an issue with phasing through walls, but that’ll get better the second he sees you naked for the first time.”

“Mr. Stark, thank you for the offer, but I’m not interested.”

Tony studied you. You felt like he was trying to unravel the deepest depths of your brain. He looked you up and down, his eyebrows raised as he tried to figure out what was really going on behind your eyes. “You sure?”

“Yeah. I mean Peter’s told me enough stories to keep my feet firmly planted on the ground.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised. Peter told me you’d say no.” He stared at your Back to the Future poster, his hands once again shoved in his pockets. “We can’t all be heroes now, can we?”

The room suddenly felt too hot as your face tinted red with shame. His unspoken disappointment hung in the air. While you knew you weren’t under any obligation to join, you knew that Peter’s loss left an indelible hole on the team. It was a sensitive situation. Logistically they were just fine without a Spider-Man, but the lack was felt all over the compound and in the City of New York as well. It had been a long time since the neighborhood web-slinger fought off the local urchins. Sure, there was the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, but he stuck to more of the vigilantes and the underground crime rings.

“Look, Mr. Stark,” you explained. “I appreciate the offer, I really do. I just, I don’t know…I want to go to med school, you know? I want to be a normal guy doing normal college things. I know Peter loved being an Avenger, but the things he’s told me…I mean, that last accident, Mr. Stark-?”

Tony averted his eyes as he picked up the Rubik’s cube on your nightstand. He fiddled with it, turning sides absentmindedly. He shook his head, chuckling as he tossed the toy from one hand to another. “Yeah. That was a shitty night. I, umm…I blame myself. I shouldn’t have put him in that situation. Look at him now. Bright kid, hell of a future ahead of him, just sucks his life went this way.” He trailed off as he placed the Rubik’s cube back down. “I get it. Less danger when your feet are firmly planted on the ground, right? You’re not going to break your neck performing surgery. But if you ever want it, the offer stands.”

“Thanks,” you replied, extending your hand. Tony grasped it firmly, looking you in the eye as he shook your hand.

“You ever need an internship or something, just let me know. I’ll hook you up.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stark. That means a lot.”

******

“Still can’t believe you turned him down,” Peter griped as Kirby smashed Pikachu.

“In what universe did you think I’d say yes, Pete?” you quipped as Kirby jumped up to the next level only to be flattened by Donkey Kong.

“I think you should do it. Just give it a try at least.”

“Dude-”

“Y/N, it’ll be good for you. Look, if anything it’ll help you get used to living with these powers. It’s fucking weird. I’ve known that for a while, but just being in an environment where you can experiment and train will help you a lot in the long run.”

The two of you sat in an awkward silence for a while, the only sounds in the room coming from the game on the TV. As much as you hated to admit it, part of you knew that Peter was right. Ever since you gained the “Peter Tingle” as Peter’s Aunt May lovingly called it, you felt you were going through the world slightly slanted to the left. Everything was ever-so slightly off. Tony had experience working with both Spider-Man and designing the technology for his suits; he was a great resource for you.

“Do you think Mr. Stark would be okay with a part-time commitment? I don’t want to drop out of school for this.”

“I don’t see why not,” Peter shrugged. He threw the Switch controller down on the couch next to him. “See if you can go over winter break. That’s about a month. Plenty of time to train and get a basic handle on things. If you like it, great. If not, then you come back and keep going with life. That’s a fair trade-off.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you reluctantly agreed.

“Plus you can put down that you had a Stark Internship on your med school applications. Harvard Med would totally kill to get someone who worked at Stark Industries.” You smiled at that thought. Harvard was your dream medical school. There wasn’t anything you wouldn’t do to help boost your chances of being accepted.

“Lemme see your phone. You’ve got his number right?” Peter tossed you his phone. You scrolled through his contacts list until you found the number that filled you with both excitement and dread. Placing the phone to your ear, you waited for a familiar voice to say hello.

“Mr. Stark? It’s Y/N. I have a proposal for you.”

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pixelchills · 11 months

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What’s up, Current content & Original story starting point

Hey guys! I’m getting back on track with the move now over, and I have my full focus on art and writing again!

I know many of you are getting a bit impatient with the lack of updates on my fics - which is fair, they’ve been without new chapters for a few months now! However, I have been very busy with a lot of other stuff (travels, moving, crafting the dolldrops), and my focus seems to always be on one thing at a time, which hasn’t been the stories of ANSSW or MDD for the moment.

This doesn’t mean I’m abandoning them. The updates will just be a little slower since I write those stories when I feel like it. The reason why the Prequel was written so quickly, was because it was my main focus at the time. I have ADHD, I tend to hyperfocus on one thing for a while, then move to the next. Right now, my focus has been on the Helper Bot AU, commission work, and my original story of Dreamflower.

I might be able to go back to hyperfocusing on ANSSW and MDD, but as for now, they’re getting updates whenever I feel like it. The fics are content I give you guys for free, as art and writing is mostly just my hobby (excluding Patreon and commissions). And since I’m not working this summer, I’m doing commissions. So technically they’re my summer job, lol. So work comes first, and fanfics a bit later.

I am a disabled person with long-term fatigue. There are many days when I can’t make content at all because of how tired I am. And since I have so many projects and AUs and interests (most of them circling around Sun and Moon though), sometimes I’m more focused on other projects than I am on the others. So sorry about that!

This is not what I wanted to talk about, though. Just to give a little heads-up on what’s going on behind the screen!

My genuine wonders lie within the original story of Dreamflower right now, and I would love to hear your opinion on this.

I know most of you follow me for my Sun & Moon stories and AUs, but I can genuinely tell you if you like my storytelling, LGBTQ+ themes, with angst and fluff; I think you’ll enjoy the story of Luan and Solros a lot, since they are based on my Animutant Moon and Sun after all!

While building the story and its characters, and besides a few Tumblr ask answers and drawings, I am really eager to tell their story and work on the universe with you. But right now it all seems to be still stuck in my head and drawers.

I really wish to make Dreamflower into a Webtoon one day. But to get there, I need to get faster at drawing, and figure out the story fully before I can start drawing it. Besides being a visually driven person, I’m also really wordy (ADHD trait, I talk even more than I write). So writing a comic script from scrap, where I need to keep the story moving at a good pace, seems like a lot of work to my wordy brain.

So, I wondered: what if I write first and then script the comic from there?

This way I would be able to get the story out and delivered - with as many words as my heart desires - while also being able to publish content about my original story.

Of course, this would push back the actual starting point of the comic itself, but I have realised this story and its universe are a passion project of mine; I don’t really care how long it takes, since I’m mostly doing it in my free time anyway.

So I have a few options I’d like you to help me pick out from:

Write the story of Dreamflower in the order it should be told, and publish it to AO3. Currently, there wouldn’t be an ending point, since the story itself continues far after where the Webtoon would end.

Same thing, but publish future scenarios/oneshots to Tumblr or AO3 separately too (usually these scenes take place after Solros and Luan have started dating, and they would appear in the main story if you’d like me to keep them secret until in that part of the story.)

Most likely, similar to ANSSW & MDD, I would include art in each chapter for visuals. I’ve found this type of content creation very appealing to myself, as it allows me to both tell a story and draw a scene from the story without it becoming overwhelming like a comic.

So, any thoughts on this? Which way would be a good way to go?

Thanks for reading! I hope you’re having a good summer! (Or winter if you live on the other side of the globe! c:)

I'll be taking a little break again next month when travelling again, but I'll mention that again a bit closer to the date! Just wanted to give a little notice of what’s going on at the moment!

-Chill

#update #life update #pixel talks #animutants #a not so sunny world #my dear daffodil #dreamflower #original story #adhd stuff

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poppysicle · 3 years

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A Late Night Snack - Marichat

I was inspired by @cat-saturn‘s art of Marinette and Chat Noir eating spaghetti. This is my first time writing any Miraculous Ladybug Fics, but I couldn’t help it and it’s been years since I’ve written so I’m rusty and I apologize!

It was later than she expected it to be.

All the tossing and turning throughout the night kept her awake, the moon continuously shining in the bedroom from the window. It felt like the night was going for an eternity. Marinette sat up in her bed, the sheets falling from her chest to her waist, her hands coming up to her face so she could rub her eyes with her palms. Reaching over to the side table beside her bed, she unhooked her cellphone from the charger to read the time.

12:13 AM

Marinette groaned as she fell back with her head hitting the pillow. She glanced at her window, only seeing the streetlamps glowing and the building across the way from the third floor and up. It was quiet, not a sound in the streets. She finished her patrol a mere three hours ago and she almost wished she stayed out as long as Chat Noir planned on.

She pushed the duvet off her body and swung her legs off the bed to stand up, immediately as if on cue, her stomach rumbled. Marinette thought about what she had eaten today but realized she forgot to have dinner before the patrol and was too drained to cook after. The walk to the kitchen was quiet but she turned on a lamp that left a light glow into the apartment. Her hands reached for the window to open it to bring in the cool Paris air before retrieving the pots and pans she needed to make some spaghetti.

The pot of water began to boil in no time as she prepped the noodles and started to make the sauce. The apartment began to smell of the delicious home cooked sauce her father taught her to make before she moved out for the days they went out on their date nights or group dinners with their own friends.

It was an easy dish to make and one that never took long to make. Marinette realized she might’ve made too much in the end as she drained the noodles. The sound echoed in the living space as she placed the noodles back in the pot and took out a plate.

A sudden movement caused her to jump as she turned towards the window to see a familiar figure with bright green eyes. Chat Noir sat on the window seal, smiling at her as he waved with his baton in hand. She let go of the breath she had been holding, this was nothing new with this feline and Marinette couldn’t help but smile.

“Good evening, Marinette. Sorry to barge in without question,” he greeted sheepishly, “but I could smell your cooking from a mile away!”

Marinette laughed quietly, “I’m assuming you’re hungry too?”

Chat Noir nodded immediately with his blonde, short hair bouncing slightly in motion and glanced at the singular plate in her hand, “Happen to have an extra plate to spare?”

“For you? Always.”

He beamed at her response and watched her grab another plate from the cabinet before filling them both with noodles and placing sauce on top. She handed him a plate with silverware and he took a spot beside the window. Marinette jumped onto the kitchen counter across from him and grabbed the plate before taking her first bite.

They both let out a happy sigh as they ate quietly together. Chat leaned back into the counter as he stood, looking outside the window at the city. Marinette noticed his eyes and tried to follow his eyes but the wall blocked her vision.

“How is your night going?” She asked, bright blue eyes on him.

“Eh, nothing too bad. A cat was stuck in a tree, someone with a dead phone was lost, and a young tourist was upset about missing her parents.” Chat shrugged before meeting her eyes. “It was quite boring tonight.”

Marinette nodded, “I can understand that. Was Ladybug not on patrol with you tonight?”

The man shook his head with the jingle of his bell, “She was earlier but had to leave early. Now it’s just little ol’ me, but I don’t think I’m doing the best job if I let myself get distracted by some pasta.”

They both laughed and Marinette shrugged, “I’m sure she doesn’t mind you taking a small break anyway.”

“I can only hope so!” He replied but not before furrowing his eyebrows. “By the way, why are you up right now?”

She paused, not daring to look at him before pursing her lips. “I couldn’t sleep, I guess I have a lot on my mind right now.”

“You seem like a busy person.”

“With too many responsibilities,” Marinette frowned. “I wish I could have a break but I don’t recall ever having one longer than an hour in the past five years.”

Chat frowned with her, “What’s got you so busy?”

The blue-haired girl shook her head, “It’s nothing crazy. Maybe I’m just bad at time management?”

“Well, if you ever need anyone to lighten the load I can help out! Or, I’m sure you’ve got some great friends who can help out.”

“I don’t think so, I personally haven’t been the greatest friend.”

She thought back to her time in high school, the constant lying and disappearing. The hiding so many secrets she couldn’t bear to hold on own, until Alya gave her a chance to open up. She told Alya everything and a little bit of weight went off her shoulders. But, it still didn’t help that she felt like a horrible friend to everyone; including the one she loved.

Adrien had tried many times to give her a chance to open up, but it made her closet into her own mind more and more. She didn’t think she’d ever have a chance to be with him and give him the love he deserved due to her lack of existing around everyone. It was hard to let him go as well as some of the other people in her life. It was what she thought was best and she almost did the same with Chat.

But, he wouldn’t allow her to hide away and he was right to do so. She was his partner, right-hand man, and world. Marinette realized she still needed him no matter what even though she said some mean things. In the end, that is what truly kept her up all night. Almost losing the last person she needed the most. Yet, here he is, not speaking horribly of Ladybug and not letting anything bother him because he knows her so well and how much he means to her.

“Don’t let it get to you,” Chat broke her out of her thoughts. “We all say things we don’t mean, but all you can do is apologize for it and allow yourself to grow from it.”

“You say that like you have experience from it.”

“Well, I’ve been around someone I love long enough to understand that these things happen. It gets the best of everyone, whether it be a parent, friend, lover..”

Marinette nodded, “I guess so. But, what if they don’t forgive you?”

“You just have to give them time,” he replied with a soft smile. “In the end, that’s all what it’s about, right? How much time you take to apologize and how long it will take for them to heal.”

“You’re right.” She responded, glancing at the sky again where the moon sat beautifully. “It can never be too late, right?”

“Never.”

Chat Noir stared at her with a smile and she felt herself under his gaze and placed her focus on her noodles twirling around her fork. His eyes soon left her and went back to his own plate of noodles. Marinette and Chat sat quietly together until their plates emptied. She watched him rinse the plate in her sink before placing it down and drying his own hands.

“Well, I should be heading out. I still have another area to cover.”

Marinette didn’t allow herself to look disappointed as she set her bowl down beside her. She jumped off the counter, her long hair bouncing with her.

“Thank you for stopping by,” she said. “And thanks for the advice.”

Chat Noir winked, “You can count on me, Marinette! But I hope you take the advice.”

“You can count on me.” Marinette repeated back with a wink.

The feline laughed before he jumped from the window and went out into the dark of Paris, leaving Marinette on her own. She cleaned the pots, pans, and plates before heading back into her room. She found her phone again, scrolling through her contacts. Her heart hammered in her chest, wishing she would have done this sooner.

But, this was the first step.The name she needed popped up with an old picture of the blonde boy beside the name and she pressed the texting bubble, her fingers hovered over the keyboard. You can do this Marinette. It’s never too late. She took a deep breath and began to type.

Hey, I know it’s been awhile..

#miraculous ladybug #ml s4 spoilers #marichat #adrinette #chat noir #ladybug #marichat fic #art #marichat art

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gb-patch · 3 years

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Ask Answers: January 28th, 2021 (Part 2)

Here we’ve got asks that aren’t to ask a question but are just really nice messages. Thank you all for sending us such kind comments ;v;. It’s seriously heartwarming to see so many people having good experiences with the game. I don’t even know what to say to such sweet responses.

We’ll keep doing our best and thank you again to each and every one of you for giving Our Life a chance ❤!

Hello! I've been following this account and have been following the development of 'Our Life' for a few months now, and I just wanted to say thank you for all your hard work and dedication you have put into the game. It astonishes me how much choice you have during the sequence of Our Life and am excited to play the full version now, I am downloading it as I write this message. I've had a great time seeing the demo transition into to the full game and just wanted to write two words. Thank you.

Anhhhhffbgdfbhujk!!! Congratulations on the release, I’m playing the game right now! Thank you all for your hard work and I can’t wait for the Step 3 DLC to come out, I’ll probably wait for the Step 3 DLC to come out to experience everything, but until then, I still have a lot to play. Thank you once again!

finished my first playthrough just now. it just felt so wholesome ??? 100/10 would do it again. i laughed. i cried. i got angry. i felt second-hand embrassment— i got so into it i was left in literal tears after getting my first ending. the art, the storyline, the music, and COVE HOLDEN– UGH IT WAS LITERAL PERFECTION ❤ THE WAIT WAS WORTH IT. THANK YOU FOR MAKING SUCH AN AMAZING GAME 🥺😭 this made my 2020 better, i can't wait for step 4 in 2021 ❤❤

So I was following you guys on itchio for years and uhh did I stay up til 6 am on a school night to finish the game? Yes. Did I sob my eyes out during step 3 as a 20 year old having doubts about life and adulthood? Absolutely. I can't form proper sentences right now due to lack of sleep but just wanted to say thank you for making it. I honestly feel lighter and I feel like it changed my views on future to be more optimistic... I can't wait to replay it! Thanks again!

I love how Our Life turned out!! I keep replaying it and can't stop squeaking and giggling!! Thank You for creating it ♥

okay i have actually fallen in love with cove and cannot WAIT to marry him 😭

Hi! I played through 'Our Life' yesterday and I just wanna say how refreshing it was to be able to have Cove be 'high initiative' and also have so many opportunities to initiate affection from the player character! As a pretty flirtatious/affectionate person myself, I notice that a lot of VNs don't give players that agency, and affection can be kinda 'carrot on a stick' if that makes sense. You guys did an awesome job! I look forward to seeing if there are more of those moments in Step 3 & 4 :)

I have to say I was pleasantly surprised by the option to choose Cove's level of initiative in step 3! As much I love the option to choose I personally enjoy have the romanced character take the lead without my input so when I got to step 3 and had to option to make it so that Cove initiated affection without as much input from me I was really happy! You guys seriously added so much freedom in terms of choices, it's almost baffling that the only thing you have to pay for is optional DLC!

I absolutely loved everything about the game and I really want congratulate the team for making the game such a satisfying experience.

I look forward to step 4

❤️❤️❤️❤️

* and sorry for my bad English

Just finished my first play through and I loved it! I've been looking forward to the game and it definitely was worth the wait. Thank you all for your hard work and can't wait for the extra dlc!

Till then, hope you guys gets some well deserved rest🤗

Love you guys, thank you so much for your hard work. :)

Ok, so I just finished Our Life and, wow. I have never cried at a video game before, ever. Thank you so, so much! Its one of my favorites.

this isn't a question, but i just wanted to say how much i enjoyed our life 🥺 i've been patiently looking forward to the full game for a few months now, and i couldn't be happier with it! i've only played through it once so far but the outcomes of the choices i made were all so soft and wholesome 💗 i can tell that everyone who was involved really worked hard and you all did an incredible job! i can't wait to see what else is in store 👍

i’d just like to say how addictive our life is!!! i constantly played it during quarantine and now playing the full release is so amazing to me!! i love that i’m still discovering dialogue bits with different personalities and actions!!! i have to admit that i’ve been wishing the day to pass faster all day during school so i could go home and play again. mentally i’m not the healthiest and our life being released has boosted it up so much, thank you for creating such an amazing game!!!!!

Hey, I just wanna say I played our life two times and it still give me the same feelings. I was really looking forward to this game before it came out and I kept on replaying the demo. This game is such an amazing experience and I feel so happy playing it. I am not really a person good with words unfortunately but I do honestly love this more than anything in the world. Thank you for making it and I hope that you will continue to make more games like our life. This game really makes me happy and I can't thank you enough

Just wanted to say that Our Life really made me feel seen as an 18 year old trans man who's been struggling with change as of late and I can't thank you guys enough for it. I just finished the main story and currently released DLC's and gosh, I can really only say... woah. Just, woah. The messages are somehow exactly what I needed to hear right now, and they brought me a lot of comfort in this really weird and confusing time in my life. Can't wait to see what comes next in this lovely story <3

I am honestly in love with Our Life. The graphics, the soundtrack its just *chef's kiss* It was so worth the wait for it. I can't wait for step 4. Keep up the good work GB Patch!

good people i have just finished Our Life and let me say, it was beautiful. rarely have such non-fantastical moments (and even some fantastical moments) brought me to tears like this game has, and i don't even have the dlc (yet). i don't know how you did it but it felt like i was playing a slice of life anime. i had waited with baited breath to play this since i played the demo and my expectations were not just met but surpassed. from the bottom of my heart thank you for this game

I found the game by chance and I am so so glad I did. It’s so inclusive and made me feel so incredibly seen. Seeing that my gender identity and sexuality were possible just meant the absolute world to me. I’ve never seen something like this and it just made me so incredibly happy. Thank you for the absolutely amazing game and I can’t wait to see what’s next.

Hello! I downloaded Our life earlier this week and I'm only now getting the chance to play it (Very busy and stressful week) I'm so excited to play and I wanna say thank you for making this adorable game!

I just finished my first playthrough of Our Life and I can't even express how much I love it. Cove is absolutely precious and has killed me several times, and the art and soundtrack is beautiful. I love all the small different choices. I'm very interested in the Derek and Baxter DLCs and the rest, can't wait!!!!!!

thank you for "Our Life Beginnings & Always" it has to be one of the best visual novels i ever have played and i just dont want it to end (i know it will, but damn it! i want to have a wedding night, have children and die of old age with cole! XD) when i play it it always makes me tear up (in a good way) and i am most definetly going to buy all the dlc that you make! thank you for this lovely game and all the work that went into it! (ps: i also loved "lake of voices" )

You guys are incredibly talented and im very proud of you all! You've really outdone yourselves w/ OL and i cant wait to see whats next to come for you all :)

i really love that you can be trans in Our Life! not a lot of games do that so i just wanted to say thank you!

Guuyyss!! I just wanna say! Thank you sm for the headscarf option in the MC creator! I especially loved that little detail where MC quickly slips the headscarf on before greeting Cove, I've never felt so immersed :'D Not that the rest of the game wasn't immersive btw, but since I wear my hijab most of the time that little addition really felt like something I would do! So thank you for that <3

I've been watching "Our Life: Beginnings & Always" development for quite some time, and I gotta say its wild to see it finally release. Its so unique in the way relationships work- even character creation. I've cried multiple times over this game while playing. I can't thank y'all enough for a game with these kind of mechanics, and representation. its rare I get to feel im really playing as myself in games like these. Everyones outdone themselves. this'll certainly be one I keep coming back to.

I've been following the development of Our Life from way back when the first demo dropped and it still blows my mind how many choices and customizations there are (love that update for the MC's bedroom btw!) and the fact that the game remembers them - it really feels like your very own coming of age story! I was so immersed I cried at the end :') Can't believe I experienced this game for free lol. I can't wait for future DLCs and Step 4! Good luck with all your upcoming projects dev team!!

Just wanted to say I love Our Life and I'm thankful it exists. Thank you so much! I love the little world you created and all the people in it. Especially Cove! This game makes me so happy!

Just poping in to say hi and that ilu guys ^^, remember to take care of yourselves!

Hi!! I just wanna thank you for creating such an amazing game. Our Life is one of the few dating sims I’ve found that let’s me be a male mc, it’s really hard to find dating sims that let me be gay. Our Life is my new favorite dating sim to just sit down and playthrough whenever I’m having a bad day so I just wanted to let y’all know how much I appreciate all you’ve done. 🤍

Fan from australia here

Just wanted to reach out and let you know how important this game has been to me. I came across it at a really rough time ( that I’m still going through ) and it’s been one of the things that’s driven me to get up and out of bed sometimes.

This game and cove both hold a very special place in my heart and I can’t wait to see more of him in the DLC and Step 4

Much love ♥️

I know this isnt exactly the main focus of the game, but i really love how we can customise the mc personality wise! This is the first time i've played a game like this where the mc actually does and says exactly what I would do and say in certain situations and its such a breath of fresh air!! It's also so cool how the other characters can pick up on it!!

Cove Holden saved 2020 (my 2020 anyways) I would die for him

Sorry for this being out of the blue, but after playing through Our Life I wanted to thank you for the experience. I don’t know if I’ve ever played a game that has made me cry happy tears TWICE lol. It’s beautiful, scenic, inclusive, and absolutely amazing..have a great rest of 2020 and I honestly cannot wait for the rest of it :,) (ps. The ending song is stuck in my head)

I think you guys might've ruined visual novels for me forever. I'm not sure I'll be able to play another without comparing it to Our Life and I know if I do that I'll be disappointed every time because of how amazing it is. I bought the DLCs before playing the base game it's one of the best impulsive purchases I've ever made

Thank you so much for making our life! It's my favorite visual novel ever and I just can't articulate how much being able to just be honest with my responses instead of going for whatever would make the love interest happy means to me? I reccomended it to evry friend I have that plays visual novels because this is the best one I've ever played!

Just wanted to say that I absolutely adore this game! The childhood friends tropes is my favorite thing and this game delivers! Cove is the sweetest thing, infact all the boys are good boys. Super excited for all upcoming dlcs!

Hi, I just want to thank you for making such an amazing game like Our Life. Tbh, I was following the game’s development for a while, but me and my family moved away from my childhood town just a few days before release, so I really connected to this game. You all did amazing!

hey just wanted to know that i completely loved ol: b&a and it was so good and love cove more than i’ve liked any fictional character, it’s now my comfort media. thank you so much

hi i just wanna say i really enjoyed all of the representation in our life b&a! there were characters with a lot of different body shapes, pic characters, lgbtq+ characters, and you get to choose your own pronouns and sexuality!!! so tysm!!

This isn't a question, I just wanted to say that Our Life is incredible. Ever since I finished it, I've been looking for other visual novels to play so I don't play OL so often that I start memorizing the lines before all the DLC comes out, but I keep coming back to it. It's really one of a kind, I think you all ruined other visual novels for me because I haven't enjoyed another VN like I have this one since I read it ❤.

i think our life b&a is the first game where i felt like cove loved me, not the character i play as which is really nice for someone with kinda low self esteem so THANK YOU

I’ve been playing Our Life practically nonstop since yesterday. I just want everyone who worked on it to know how much the LGBTQ inclusivity means to me. As a closeted trans ace guy in an unsupportive household, I can’t emphasize how much of a comfort this game has been to me. Everything about it is so wholesome and heartfelt. I’m excited to see what other games you make in the future 💙

- A demibiromantic ace transgender man who may or may not have cried over the option to be myself in a game for the first time ever

Csn i just say i really appreciate how you handled MC deciding to use they/them at different stages. Mainly because alot of games don't pay much attention to the body the mc was assigned at birth if they player chooses nonbinary like it does with male/female. And it was just nice to be able to play an mc who just thought gender was kinda 'meh' for them but still felt good about the body they were born with (like myself). I guesd it boils down I'm really appreciative of the hard work it must've taken for you to make all those options possible & still have them matter.

I just wanted to thank you all for Our Life. My mental health hasn't been in a good place recently and it has become my favorite form of escapism/way to cheer up. It's idyllic setting and fantastic characters are such a good way to wind down, I love it. Also, I've been dreading 2021 due to classes starting and general stress, but the DLC and your next project have given me something to actually look forward to :). I'm so excited for them and now I actually have a reason to be happy that it's 2021. Sorry if this message is a bit weird, I just wanted to thank the team for their hard work and for creating something so incredible <3

I've gotta say this is one of the most repayable games I've ever played, if not the most. Usually after i do a playthrough or two of a game i have to wait awhile before playing again otherwise it feels stale. But i haven't had that problem with our life because of the sheer ammount of player agency. Everyone who works on tbe game should feel incredibly proud of themselves because you've created something amazing.

I just wanted to say thank you for Our Life. I'm sure you get this a lot, but it really pulled me out of a mentally tough spot in my life. So thank you.

who needs therapy when you have our life: beginnings and always? haha no but seriously this game is my comfort game, and even though i can’t join your patreon at the moment please know i am always supporting you and i am so excited to see everything you have in store! everyone who works on the games is so so talented

All DLCs have nice content. 😡😡

And I love them all!!💗💗💗💖💖💖💕💕💕

#our life #Our Life Beginnings & Always #ourlifeba #ask #gb patch #gb patch games

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sherrybaby14 · 4 years

Text

Moral of the Story

Summary: Steve’s girl likes to party all the time and he’s at his wit’s end. Then he meets you.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x female reader.

Warnings: Alcohol, Smut, ANGST

Words: 5k

A/N: This is for the wonderful @captain-rogers-beard challenge. Congrats Doll! My prompt was “Party all the Time” by Eddie Murphy.

The music was a bit louder than you would have liked, but at least the song was catchy. You sipped on your drink as you watched the dance floor, your friend’s waving you over.

With a smirk you shook your head and lifted your drink, far too sober to dance.

“I think they want you to join them?” A voice boomed in your ear.

You did a jump as you turned to see a gorgeous blonde next to you.

“I don’t want to spill my drink.” You ran your hands down your now wet dress.

“Oh Jeez, I’m so sorry ma’am.” He reached for some cocktail napkins. “Let me buy you another.”

“It’s okay.” You began to pat your dress dry. “It’s probably better on my clothes than down my throat. I don’t drink often.”

“Me either.” He gave a warm smile.

“Then why are you in a nightclub?” You turned to the bar, trying to block out the loud music and not have to yell so much. “Here to pick up women?”

“A friend invited me.” His gaze went to the dance floor.

You followed it and saw he was looking at a dark haired man. You couldn’t see his face because it was being covered by a gorgeous brunette. She pulled away and you blinked a few times, she had to be a model, a perfect ten.

“I think your friend is going to get lucky.” You turned back to see his jaw clench up.

“Yeah, it looks like it.” He looked away, there was a pain in his eyes. “If I can’t buy you a new drink how about a cup of coffee?”

“Oh, I don’t think they sell coffee here.” You shrugged.

He erupted in laughter and you glanced around, not noticing the punch line.

“There’s a diner a block away.” He leaned against the bar. “Open twenty four hours. I know I’m a stranger, but I could get out of here and by the looks of it so could you.”

“I’m game.” You put your glass on the bar and started walking to the door.

“I’m Steve by the way.” He held out his hand.

“I know who you are.” You smiled. “I think the whole world knows who you are.”

A confused look spread across his face. The brisk nighttime air made your arm get some goosebumps, but you let out a sigh of relief when the music died down.

“That’s not the reaction I get from most people who know who I am.” Steve grabbed his chin. “Maybe I should grow a beard again.”

“Would you rather I asked for an autograph and a selfie?” You raised an eyebrow, then put the back of your hand to your forehead. “Oh Captain my Captain?”

“Alright, I get it.” Steve laughed. “So what’s your story? I guess your the one whose the stranger here.”

“It’s not like I know everything about you, just the headlines.” You winked. “Workaholic, I love my job, it keeps me busy. In my free time I do the basics, read, watch movies, attempt and fail at the newest workout craze.”

“Pilates man.” Steve pulled the diner door open. “It’s a lot harder than it looks.”

“I fall in every yoga position.” You followed Steve as he slid into a booth. “Zumba was fun, but I’m lacking in rhythm.”

“You?” Steve’s eyes went wide. “You look like you would be a great dancer.”

“I’m great at a lot of things.” You flipped over your mug. “But bad at more.”

“I’m really bad at board games. I flipped the board last time I played Monopoly.” Steve leaned back in the booth. “But I am amazing at tic-tac-toe.”

“Oh yeah?” You reached in your purse and pulled out a pen, drawing the lines on a napkin. “Prove it?”

“Even with all this coffee and stimulating conversation.” You brought your hand to your mouth to stifle the yawn. “Exhaustion is setting in. I’ve got to get to bed.”

“How far do you live from here?” Steve reached for his wallet. “It’s almost 4 am. Can I walk you home?”

“Four am?” You hadn’t checked your phone since you told your friends you were safe after vanishing, that was five hours ago.

Sure enough the device read 3:56.

“Damn.” You grabbed a menu. “Might as well order breakfast then.”

Steve looked shocked, but then nodded in agreement, not pulling a menu. The server took notice and came over.

“I’ll have a meat lovers skillet, side of country gravy, sub American cheese, eggs over easy, wheat toast?” You but the menu back.

“I’ll have the same.” Steve leaned forward.

“Really?” The waitress was confused. “Not the usual?”

“I’m being adventurous tonight.” Steve winked.

“Okay.” She walked away.

“I like the way you know what you want.” Steve leaned back. ��Kind of no nonsense. It’s refreshing.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” You laughed. “Maybe when it comes to diner food at 4 am. I’ve been eating my whole life after all.”

“So why isn’t there anyone special in your life?” Steve almost seemed fidgety.

“There’s lots of special people in my life.” You smiled. “I’m very close with my parents, my siblings, have some great friends I’d call family, my coworkers are amazing too.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Steve’s eyes showed a strange wave of vulnerability.

“No reason.” You wished you had a better answer. “I’ve dated plenty, had some serious partners, some not so serious. I guess I’m picky? What about you?”

“The friend who invited me to the club tonight, it was the girl.” Steve gave a pressed smile. “We were very serious, she broke it off about two months ago. Wanted to try being friends. I agreed to give it a go. I don’t see how it’s going to work.”

The perfect 10 brunette. Your heart started to ache for the man. He was heartbroken. It was all over his face, body language. Everything clicked.

“What a bitch.” You brought your hand to your mouth and looked at him with wide eyes.

He laughed and you relaxed.

“There you go, being honest and direct again.” Steve put his elbows on the table. “I don’t think people can be friends with exes. It’s not in the cards.”

“I’ve never tried.” You were more of the it’s done it’s done type. “My philosophy is look forward. The future. Thinking about the past, it’s a dangerous trap.”

“I’m starting to think the same thing.” Steve’s eyes lit up. “She is a big party girl, I mean, she’s a model so sometimes its a networking thing. But I never really fit into her life.”

“Wait, were you guys like a tabloid couple?” You tilted your head. “Can I read all about your breakup on instagram?”

“No!” Steve rolled his eyes. “That was part of the problem. I think she wanted that. Being with me could elevate her career and it made me feel used, so I wouldn’t allow public photos. There’s a few that leaked, but nothing confirming our relationship.”

“Wow, you celebrities are a different breed.” It never once crossed your mind to post about who you were having coffee with.

“I am not a celebrity.” Steve wagged a finger at you.

“Oh I’m sorry.” You brought your hand to your chest. “Historical figure.”

Steve cracked up. His laugh was infectious and you joined, chuckling away.

“Without being too forward young lady,” Steve reached out and grabbed your hand, sparks shooting down your arm. “Could I have your telephone number?”

You knew he was bating you for a joke. But you preferred the natural type.

“Yes.” You reached for your phone, breaking the hand touch. “You can have my number.”

Noon hit and you forced yourself out of bed, six hours of sleep was doable. You began to make your mental checklist of projects for the day while you brushed your teeth.

There was a giddy ness in the back of your mind over last night. He was a cool guy and it was a fun time. Your brain started to think about work. You had to call your parents and check in, probably explain to your friends about where you went, you would leave out the Captain America angle.

You grabbed your phone and your jaw about hit the floor. There was a text from Steve already.

Are you going to say good morning?

You didn’t think you would hear from him for at least a few days. It made you smile and wiggle as you sat on the bed.

Good morning! Or afternoon?

Before you set the device down the reply bubbles started to form. You parted ways seven hours ago. It was a Saturday. This was unexpected. The bubbles disappeared and then reappeared several times. You were on the edge of your seat.

Then your phone started to vibrate. You almost threw the thing, seeing Steve’s name pop up. Instead your smile grew as you slid it to answer.

“Was good afternoon not appropriate? Technically it’s 12:15, that is literally after noon.” You tried to stifle the excitement.

“You want to have a beer with me tonight?” Steve’s voice was just as sexy over the phone. “I would say dinner, but I know you had some things to take care of. There’s this sports bar I love, I promise I won’t spill anything on you and coffee keeps us up too late.”

“I’d love to.” You didn’t see a point in trying to act coy.

“Great, nine o’clock? I’ll text you the address.” Steve’s smile carried over the phone.

“Sounds like a plan.” You ran your hand over your hair and wondered if you could get away without washing it.

“Have a great day. I”ll see you tonight.”

“Bye.” You clicked off the phone and did a little happy dance.

You didn’t see that one coming.

Your phone lit up with Steve’s message right away. You sent a thumbs up emoji. To your surprise, Steve responded:

Emojis, it’s like hyrogliphics are coming back? Why did we skip the sonnets?

You didn’t even think before responding.

You: Shall I compare thee to a Summer’s Day? Thou art more lovely and temperate.

Steve: Sonnet 18, one of the greats.

You: I stole it from Clueless.

Steve: What’s Clueless?

You woke the next morning, at your normal 8 am. Even more thrilled with the date from the night before. It was fun. It was a fantastic time. Of course the texting all day long made the conversation flow right to person-to-person.

“I can’t sleep until noon tomorrow.” You stood up from the bar stool. “Plus I hit my three beer maximum. Maybe once I know you better you can meet four beer me.”

“You’re guarded in the strangest ways.” Steve beamed at you.

“Me?” You were shocked. “I’m an open book. Nothing to hide.”

“Well would this bother you then?” Steve cupped your cheek and before you could react his face leaned in.

Warm lips met yours. You melted into him, your body felt like it was floating. Nobody in the bar paid you any attention as his tongue slid into your mouth before pulling out. A little moan came forward when he pulled away.

There was a devilish grin on his face as he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles.

“Let’s get you an Uber.”

All you could do was nod in a numb state. This amazing man kissed you. It was like a dream.

You were all smiles as you rolled out of bed, straight to the bathroom. Sundays were your lazy day, but you missed too much yesterday that you had to squeeze some work in. It wouldn’t be too much.

When you left the bathroom you grabbed your phone. Your heart exploded when you saw there was already a text from Steve.

Today you can say good morning. I have faith.

Steve Rogers was perfect. Three dates in a week, not including coffee night. Every other day he wanted to see you. He made you laugh, listened to you, was always available. Sent you little comics you found funny. You giggled at the last gif he sent you of a puppy eating bubble.

You: I’ve got to head into a work meeting. I’ll text you later.

Steve: Knock ‘em dead.

Supportive too. You smiled as you slipped your phone into your pocket. It had only been a week, but you couldn’t remember the last time you connected with someone this way, if ever.

“You’re smiley.” A coworker bumped you with her arm. “It’s almost like you have a glow.”

“Just a happy person.” You shrugged. “How is your son doing? Any luck on that math test?”

“Oh he did much better!” Your coworker dropped her shoulders in relief. “That tutor was worth every penny.”

She continued to talk and you tried to listen, but your thoughts kept drifting to Steve. This was the best week of your life.

The meeting got your adrenaline pumping. You left and went straight to your office, typing away the e-mails, ready to get the new project off the ground. It was almost time to call it a day, the sun was starting to set.

That was when you picked up your phone. Two messages from Steve. Fuck. Guilt set in.

How was the meeting?

Everything okay?

You grabbed your phone and started typing.

You: Sorry work got crazy. Major project. Just leaving now.

Steve: Do you want to over to my place for dinner? Unwind? I can have a meal and some wine for you, straight away?

Unwinding with Steve sounded perfect, plus you were more interested in the version that didn’t involve a meal.

You looked down at your work clothes, your makeup probably long smeared off, but did that matter? Steve didn’t seem to care about your appearance. He wanted you for who you were. And right now that sounded perfect.

You: Do you have ice cream?

Steve: Oh my freezer is overflowing. Any flavor you like. Popsicles too.

You: I’m in. Text me your address?

Every other time you arrived at a paramour’s place for the first time you were nervous. Not this time. Your brain played a slide show of the last week. The way Steve listened, hung on your words, followed up with questions. He made you feel like the most important person in the world.

Your past experiences taught you that people were either fantastic talkers or listeners. You prided yourself on being both, but Steve seemed to fall in that same category.

With a strange confidence you hit the buzzer for his apartment. The door unlocked and you walked up the stairs, speeding up with each step.

When you got to his floor you spotted him hanging out the door, waving at you. This was going to be the hard part.

“Before I step inside, I have to let you know something.” You rehearsed this in your head a few times. “Work was insane today, and I know tomorrow is Saturday, but I have to put in a few hours. This happens about twice a year, not a common occurrence. But as much as I want to, I can’t spend the night.”

“Okay.” Steve nodded and held the door open. “Again I love your honesty.”

You walked in to see all the only lights on in the apartment two candles on the clothed kitchen table. Your heart started to sink at the thought he’d put into it, but then you noticed the meal set out at each end and began to laugh.

“Full disclosure, all I had was some TV dinners.” Steve came behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “And there’s no ice cream or popsicles. But I can think of something I want for dessert.”

You spun around and put your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss. He reached underneath you and scooped you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you, deepening the kiss.

Nothing had ever felt so right in your life. It was as if the cosmos had brought you together.

“You’re too perfect.” You pulled away as he dropped you on the bed.

“You’re a one-in-a-million.” Steve’s breath was heavy as he started to pull at your clothing.

Hands were everywhere, lips randomly touching whatever skin they could. Shoes and socks flying off with pants and shirts. You shoved his boxers down as he unhooked your bra, the feeling of your bare chests pushed together making you shudder.

Steve grabbed your panties and yanked them down as you settled back on his bed. On your back, legs spread, knees up. His arm encircled your thigh as he began to kiss. You moaned and fisted the blanket, lifting your pelvis up inviting his mouth.

He wasted no time and began to devour you. You tried to pay attention to what he was doing, but you couldn’t keep up. Was that his tongue? His lips? You cried out when something slid inside of you.

“FUCK!” Your body convulsed around his mouth.

Your chest heaved while your brain tried to keep up with the pleasure. Steve kept licking, touching, working you. Everything was frenzied. Your head collapsed to the side and you tried to regain control.

“I knew you were primed.” Steve kissed up your stomach. “But you have one more in you.”

He climbed until he was over you, his cock lining up with your entrance. Never had you came that fast from another person.

Steve pushed forward and filled your aching pussy. You squealed and grabbed onto his shoulders. Rolling your body against his. ��

“That’s it.” He nipped at your neck. “You were meant for me. Never felt this way before.”

You grabbed his face and pulled his lips to your own, enjoying the taste of yourself on him while he railed into you. He returned the kiss and sped up. Slamming his cock, teasing your clit while your g-spot came to life.

There was no hiding your moans and his grunts as your bodies melded together. Your breath started to tighten, and then your muscles started. The edge came fast and you flung yourself over.

Your head went back into the pillow as your screamed, it was impossible to tell if your vision went black since the room was too dark. But Steve let out a grunt and pulled out of you.

Instead of blowing all over your stomach he pushed your head down. You slid down the bed and opened your mouth.

His aim was perfect and for the second time you tasted yourself, enjoying the way he finished in your mouth, letting your lips wrap around his tip. Drinking him all down while your body shook.

“I think I’m falling in love.” Steve pushed forward before pulling out and landing on his back.

You nodded, breathless as you curled up to him. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close, kissing the top of your head.

You ignored the tears forming in your eyes, fighting them away. If pure happiness existed, this was it. How did you get so lucky?

Steve: I’m going to hug my pillow all night wishing it was you.

You glanced at the clock, it was already approaching midnight.

You: I’m sorry I couldn’t stay. Thank you for a wonderful night and a gourmet meal.

Steve: Get some sleep. I miss you.

You: I miss you too.

You grabbed your pillow. If Steve was pretending his was you, maybe you could do that same. A huge smile on your face as you drifted off.

You woke with a smile. Maybe Smiley could be your new nickname. You grabbed your phone eager to see what Steve had sent. To your surprise, there was no message.

All week long you’d woken up to messages. You smiled even bigger, maybe you’d finally worn him out and the man needed more sleep than you did.

You rolled out of bed to brush your teeth, thoughts filled with nothing but Steve.

Work was so intense, you turned your phone off. No distractions. When the team broke for lunch you flipped it on, your heart racing to see Steve’s messages. When the screen came to life you saw nothing.

Maybe it was wrong? Messages glitched sometimes. You clicked the app open, all you saw was your last message. It said read at 12:03 am.

You shrugged it off. Steve knew you had a big work day. He was being respectful. You thought about texting him, but you had to get back to it and didn’t want to come off as needy. It wasn’t like you could text him all afternoon.

The project finished an hour early, 4 pm on a Saturday. Everyone gave themselves a round of applause and you did a lazy golf clap as you reached for your phone.

Your heart exploded when you saw a message from Steve.

Steve: How was your day?

You: Good. I have so much to tell you!

There was no bubble response, or read receipt. You stared at your phone. Maybe turning it off had been a bad idea.

After saying goodbye to your colleagues and walking to you subway stop your phone dings with a message.

Steve: Can we meet for coffee?

You giggled.

You: Why not dinner? The real kind this time. It was a big day for me! I want to celebrate, you can supply dessert again.

Steve: Coffee. Now? First night?

Maybe he had a big day too. He’d been so supportive of you, it was due to return the favor.

You: Sure. I’ll be there in twenty.

You headed to the other subway line, more than eager for a sleepover tonight.

When you arrive at the diner you scan it, not seeing Steve anywhere. Maybe you beat him here. You were about to grab a random booth when a man in a black hoodie, baseball hat, and sunglasses sticks his hand in the air.

You smile, wondering if this is some Avenger’s mission.

“Are you going as the Unabomber for Halloween?” You slide into the booth. “I couldn’t even recognize you.”

“There’s no easy way to say this.” Steve cracked his jaw. “Ashley called me last night. Very upset.”

“Whose Ashley?” You blurted out the first thought that came to your mind.

“My ex.” He let out a huge sigh. “She’s a mess.”

“The bitch from the club?” You were a little interested in the drama.

“She’s not a bitch.” Steve put his hands on the table and your blood ran cold. “She has some problems. She is working on them. And we have a lot of history and she needs my help.”

“Oh.” You felt like your soul floated out of your body.

“You’re so perfect.” He reached out and grabbed your hands. “But she needs me. You don’t need me. We have a lot of history and I owe it to her to try.”

“Oh.” Everything went numb.

“I wanted to let you know in person and before things got too serious.” Steve squeezed your hand. “If I could take back last night, I wouldn’t. It was perfect, you’re perfect.”

“You already said that.” Your voice was getting tight.

“But I mean it.” He pushed the hood off his baseball cap. “I can’t leave her. Without me, I mean, you saw her at the club that night. She’s a disaster.”

The tears started to boil in your throat they were so deep. You yanked your hands away, thoughts flying to wild to speak clearly. You didn’t know if you wanted to scream at him or plead with him to pick you.

“I hope we can stay friends?” He let out a sigh. “I mean, you’re amazing and you made me so happy this past week. Probably the happiest I’ve been in my entire life. You’re smart, and witty, and beautiful, and you’re everything.”

The way he said week hit home. It was only a week. Not a month, not a year. Just a week. A lot of digs ran through your mind, ways you could make a joke, ways you could state your feelings. But instead you said one thing.

“Sure.” Your brain started to scream at itself.

“That’s such a relief.” Steve dropped his shoulders.

“I had a really long day.” You stood up from the booth. “Talk soon?”

You didn’t look back as you ran to the door, the tears spilling over. With a shaky hand you pulled out your phone, screaming at yourself for being so stupid to develope feelings, but smart enough to do one thing. You highlighted his contact and clicked delete.

Friends, family, whoever would talk had to listen to you cry. You didn’t hold back for them. You made sure they alternated duty. You even took a week off of work.

“If I would have stayed that night, would he have ignored her?” You sobbed to your best friend.

“No hunny.” She ran a hand through your head. “No. You got caught in a weird game.”

Steve: How do you kill a circus?

It’s a random number not saved to a contact, but you know that’s the first text you get from Steve. You know the punchline, but rather than responding you delete it. The last thing you want is to memorize his number.

You would’ve broken down and sent some very dumb stuff you would’ve regretted. It’s only been five days. He should send his girlfriend those jokes, not you.

Three days later you get another.

Steve: How are you?

You think about deleting it, you think about screaming you broke my heart, acting cool like you’re busy, or just gushing about how much you miss him and what a great guy his is.

You: Fine.

Steve: Glad to hear.

You don’t hesitate to delete the thread.

Steve: I miss you.

Your heart races. It’s been two weeks since the night you had the best sex of your life. The tears sting your eyes. You’ve been apart longer than you were together. Did he realize he made a mistake? Was he coming back to you?

You start typing: I miss

But then you stop. No. You had to frame this right. State it right. But what was there to do? Yell at him into loving you? Did you love him? Your heart hurt like it had, but this was wrong.

With a shaky finger you highlighted the number and moved it to block. The sobs came again and you cuddled your phone, regretting your choice.

The day you hit the month mark you were trying not to think about Steve, but then the celebrity hit: CAPTAIN AMERICA ENGAGED! It ran all over the headlines.

Him and his fiance were plastered everywhere. You couldn’t escape. It hit you then. You were a rebound. You were nothing. A temporary step on his life path. It hurt. It hurt more than anything. No ice cream could repair the hole one week with Steve Rogers had created.

“I’m glad we got you out tonight.” Your friend poked you in the side as she screamed in your ear. “What’s it been, months since you’ve been in a club?”

“Yep.” Two, but you tried not to think about how your last time in a nightclub ended, how it could derail your life. “But I’m here.”

You still hated the loud music. Memories of a sports bar with Steve tried to come forward, but you buried them before they could.

“Let’s dance!” She grabbed your hand.

“Not yet.” You yanked it away. “In a few drinks.”

“I’ll wait with you.” She settled next to you. “But that dance floor is inviting.”

The bodies were moving and you scanned the area. Your eyes bulged when you spotted a familiar face, tongue down a mouth.

“Is that…..is that Captain America’s fiance?” Your friend grabbed your arm, you never told them the mysterious Steve’s last name. “She’s not kissing Cap.”

She pulled out her phone ready to take a picture, but you put your hand out and lowered her arm.

A wave of clarity rushed over you.

“His girl wants to party all the time. He buys her champagne and diamonds.” A weird smile settled over you. “He thinks he can fix her.”

That was the problem. You didn’t need fixing. And if you ever did you would figure it out for yourself, with the support of people around you. Steve hit the nail on the head when he said you didn’t need him. You never would.

“Go dance.” You gave your friend a playful spank on the ass.

For the first time in two months you felt like yourself and turned back to the bar hoping to block the music.

A finger tapped your shoulder and you looked up with no jump.

“It’s loud in here.” A handsome man with dark hair looked down at you.

“There’s a coffee shop a block away.” You stood up. “Can I buy you a cup?”

“Yes.” He nodded and set his drink down.

“What’s your name?” You yelled over the music.

“Stephen.” He was right behind you.

“Do you go by Steve and what are your thoughts on needy women?” You pushed open the door to the club.

The air was hot and you rolled your shoulders back, embracing the lack of obnoxious music.

“If I went by Steve I would have introduced myself that way.” His intense eyes glared at you. “And I am a surgeon. Everyone I encounter is needy. I don’t have time for it in my personal life.”

You stifled your laughter at the response. At least Steve had taught you to speak your mind. Having a flashback to leaving the bar with him.

“Well Mr. Stranger, I will never need you.” You grinned at him. “Except for good conversation and occasional support.”

“It’s actually Doctor Strange.” He chuckled. “I think that’s the first time I laughed in months.”

“Tell me about it...literally.” You kicked at the sidewalk. “How do you kill a circus?”

The man scoffed at you and then wiped off his sleeves.

“You go for the juggler of course.”

#Steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel #marvel fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction

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lightthewaybackhome · 3 years

Text

Sorry this is so long. Probably should have done a 2 parter.

"My darling girl, when are you going to realize that being normal is not necessarily a virtue? It rather denotes a lack of courage!" - Aunt Frances, Practical Magic

My whole life, as far back as I can remember, I’ve wanted to be artistic. I’ve wanted to create. I love beauty. I love artistry. I love creation. I love the artsy look: jewelry, tattoos, flowing clothing, and funky hair. It is a personal aesthetic I keep returning to, especially as I get older. As a child, I tried so many different forms of art—painting, photography, drawing— but none of them seemed quite right. None of them got what was in my head out. All of them fell short until I started writing. Writing was a flame, a fire, a drug. Writing allowed me to express what was in my imagination. This is the first thing to understand.

Everyone is artistic and art is everywhere. I’ve believed this as long as I can remember. There are amazing artistic feats in our world: books, movies, video games, paintings, sculptures, and magnificent pieces of music. Yes, art can be very high and very special. But, art can also be found in charcuterie boards, homemade quilts, sourdough bread, cocktails, soup, and all ordinary things if we but look and see. Art can be high magic and art can be ordinary. This is the second thing to understand.

As I’ve embraced being a homemaker, a HearthKeeper, a woman where she’s meant to be, I came across the term domestic artist. As much as I didn’t like the book Eve in Exile by Rebekah Merkle, it gave me this. It gave me the term domestic artist. That stuck with me. It spoke to me because it captured both the first and the second thing. It captured the never-ceasing call to create which haunts me at all times, and it elevated and honored the ordinary in a sprinkling of fairy dust. It said, “Yes, you have to cook today. Three meals plus snacks and drinks. It’s your job, but, but, what if, what if instead of looking at it as some drudgery, some Cinderella enslavement, what if you looked at it as an opportunity to create beauty?”

Not every meal, every outfit, every moment of your day can be a work of art. Some days you just have to do what you have to do. Some days get upended in the opening credits with a broken washer or a sleepless child. Some days plans change. Life changes. One minute life looks like this, and then the next it’s on to something completely different. But, the beauty of being a domestic artist is that you can create art in any of these moments and in any setting. You can find art in any moment and in any setting.

See, the world tells us that homemaking, HearthKeeping, is boring. It tells us it’s pointless. A waste. You could be changing the world. Only dumb useless women keep their homes. And that’s because they’re either tied down by a dictator of a husband or the demands of children or the cultural trappings of their religion. Courage, dear heart. Courage! Homemaking is magic. Homemaking is flexible. Homemaking changes with the seasons and the woman. I, I am a bit bohemian, a bit rustic, a mixture of rugged and romantic. I grew up a tomboy, but have embraced being a woman in her home since I was a child. I love leather and lace. I love cottage-witch aesthetics. I love boots and long flowing things. I like deer heads, linen, skulls, and ruffles. I like feathers and dreamcatchers, but I also love to decorate with open space. I love pies and feeding my husband. But, look at this, one of my best friends is a classic. She loves clean lines, traditional and timeless pieces. She loves modern accents. She loves beachy highlights and hammocks. She’s not into farmhouse, rustic modern, or raw-edged wood. On any given Sunday, she’s in a pencil skirt, simple top, simple heels with her three daughters in matching dresses while I’m in distressed boyfriend jeans, a mullet-tucked top, and wearing my crow skull. We’re very different, but we’re both homemakers who love making our homes.

I have a woman in my life who quilts and that flows out into their decorating. So many of her things are beautifully hand sewn. If she wants it, she makes it. Another friend grew up in Africa and her home is filled with her love of that culture. One dear friend loves plants and grows amazing flowers that she uses to create Instagram-worth bouquets. Another woman isn’t super fluffy-feminine but she has an eye for remodeling and so is constantly making improvements on her home: flooring, painting, and more. My sisters, like me, both enjoy a minimalist approach to decorating and all three of us have a special place for coffee. Both my sisters’ homes are welcoming and peaceful even with kids running around like crazy.

That’s the point, the world tells women to band together, that we’re a sisterhood, that we should go out and change the world, abandoning our homes before we’re relegated to only kitchen and nursery work, but reality tells me that the most amazing women I know are busy in their homes. This is sisterhood. This is where we bloom. It is here that we have flexibility. For over five years, I’ve struggled with chronic health issues. Homemaking lets me decide each day what I can do and how I’m going to do it. Homemaking lets you change what you do for each season of life. Lots of littles? Keep it simple. Empty nest? Explore. Somewhere in between? Keep growing. Lots of energy? So many things you can expand into if you just refuse to believe the lie that homemaking is beneath you. Don’t be normal. Don’t believe that homemaking is a waste of time. Don’t buy into the lie that you are somehow being less than everyone else when you raise your children, love your husband, and create beauty. Have the courage to be strange. We were made for this! It suits us. This is an environment women thrive in.

When I got over my grammar inhibitions and started writing, I felt like my soul came alive. I felt like I’d finally found what I’d been searching for since I came into this world. It doesn’t matter whether I’m writing an epic story or writing about HearthKeeping or just word doodling, writing, words, stories just flow from me. Wonderfully, homemaking is like that for me, too. I want to read books, I want to learn, I want to talk about it, I want to do it. It’s not perfect. I don’t always feel glorious, but I do feel ‘right’ when I’m doing this. I feel like I’m where I belong. I feel like this is a place I can both rest in and grow in. I feel safe when I’m having a fatigue flare up and I feel excited when I think about all that I can do.

A real-life example: Sundays are long hard days. They’re days that generally spike my fatigue and my husband is worn out. They’re both the best and hardest day of the week. When we get home I make a cocktail and we crash. Inevitably, the minute I sit down my man asks for a snack and what we’re having for dinner. For several years, this drove me up a wall. It is Sunday. The day of REST, why is it my responsibility to always make food? Epic sigh. Epic whiny sigh. I would meal plan for the whole week and then wing it on Sunday and Monday, always with poor results and grumpiness on my part. Then, one week as I meal-planned, I realized that I could also prepare for the weekend. Lightbulb. Facepalm. Really? Why had it taken me into my 40th year of life to realize that if I want a quiet, restful, happy weekend, I should just plan snacks, drinks, and meals ahead of time? I’m going to blame it on my chronic health, brain fog addled mind. I’m going to blame it on laziness. I’m going to blame it on being a young homemaker. Some are understandable, some are inexcusable.

Sundays now involve way less stress because I can immediately prepare snacks and know what we’re eating the minute we get home. No more attitude issue. No more stress. Easy and nice.

Did this change the world? Does this matter to anyone but myself? Did my husband even notice? Maybe not, but this is homemaking. This is HearthKeeping. It is my job and my calling. Even without notice or world-shattering consequences, I’m pleased with the outcome. More than pleased, I’m really happy about it. It brings me joy and delight to find a better way to take care of my family. It allows me to sprinkle my Sunday afternoon with just a little bit of artistry. I make drinks, snacks, dinner. I feed my family.

See, one of the lies that the feminists preach is that we’re wasted in our homes. And yet, the majority of the women I know who work outside the home aren’t doing glamorous jobs. They’re not travel bloggers or world-renowned chiefs or CEOs. They’re cosmetologists, retail workers, bank tellers, nurses, teachers, and such. Now, none of those are bad. Working outside the home isn’t bad. (I think each family has to decide what family looks like to them.) Please, please, don’t read that as degrading. I worked retail and I think retail is important. These are all God-honoring employment in which you can strive and serve. I’m not bashing any of those jobs. I have many many dear friends who work outside the home. What I am saying is that I think we as women need to ask ourselves if leaving our homes en masse was worth it. Has it given us all the joy, delight, and fulfillment the feminists promised us?

I’ve done both. I’ve been a co-owner of a business that I helped grow from nothing to something amazing. I’ve worked as an everyday retail worker. I write and am the main editor for a small neighborhood magazine. And I’m a HearthKeeper. I will tell you right now, no qualifications, that HearthKeeping is the most satisfying job I’ve ever had. It not only challenges me every day but it also works with me. The boundaries are what I set in place and so I grow as I can. The work never ends, yes, but it also never ends. There is always something else to explore.

I think being a homemaker is largely attitude. You can buck against what you do, and most women do. Just spend two minutes on Pinterest looking at doing laundry or dishes and the bitter hatred comes pouring out. Look at the complaints women make against their churches: we’re relegated to doing nursery work and kitchen duty. What if, just for a moment, we decided to be Domestic Artists? What if, for just a moment, we tried loving our jobs instead of complaining? What if we thought that dishes meant food and good times and healing of the souls around us? What if we saw laundry as a way to keep beauty and cleanliness around us? What if we saw it as our privilege and delight to take care of the food, children, clothing, cleaning, cooking, gardening, growing of the next generation, and the men of the world? What if we embraced the domestic arts and saw them as truly magnificent, glorious, unique arts? How many of us would be able to say with a straight face that working retail is more fulfilling than managing a small world? Is it more fulfilling to go work in an office than it is to orchestrate a place of welcome, rest, and renewal for your husband and yourself? It might be more visible, but is it truly more long-lasting?

I can say that it isn’t. I can say that I think being a homemaker is uniquely suited for women and that we should have the courage to go against the grain of our world and say no. No, I’m not going to give all of myself to work outside the home when the home is far more challenging and interesting. No, I’m not going to believe the lie that homemaking is oppression and boredom. I will find beauty in the ordinary and I will embrace art in the everyday. This is one of those amazing jobs where it is what you make it. It is what you pour into it. If you think it’s boring or demeaning you won’t get anything out of it. If you think it is challenging and rewarding, you will get the world out of it. You will grow yourself and those around you. Think about what a wonderful thing it would be if we made our homes our careers! If we women really took on the label Domestic Artist in our own individual ways.

#homemaking #hearthkeeper #housewife #prose #trad wives #traditional femininity #domestic artist #writing #artists on tumblr #art

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bbykpoper · 4 years

Photo

𝓑𝓵𝓾𝓮𝓫𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂 🦋

Inspired by this post 🌼

Pairing: swimcoach!seonghwa x artist!reader

Warning: sexual content further in the story, read at your own discretion!

Index: Jongho // Hongjoong // San // Yunho // Wooyoung // Mingi // Yeosang

･*:༅

The canvas was covered in smudges of blue paint as you stared at it from your spot on the floor. You were disgusted by your work, by the mere atempt at the whole thing. Your whole being screamed ‘lack-of-inspiration’ and you were fed up with this shit you were trying to achieve. A groan left your lips as your phone started to ring somewhere in the background.

“Hello?” You sounded much more composed than you actually were, seeing as anger was slowly taking over you.

“Hey, bad time?” The soft voice of your friend came through the phone.

“I don’t know...” You sighed, placing your paint brush on the ground. “I’m not exactly going anywhere with my work.” You looked up your canvas but disregarded it the moment you saw the frustration reflected on it. “Anyways, what’s up?”

“I need a favour.” You could hear the stress in his voice. “I forgot my swim bag at home...”

“How could you forget your swim bag?” You stood up and went over to the room next to yours and that’s when you noticed it. “You haven’t slept at home have you?”

“Maybe.” A silence passed over the speaker. “Can you bring it over please? I’m pretty sure Park will have my head either way, but I’d at least like to be prepared.”

“Sure Chan, but don’t come crying when JIhyo comes after you.” You giggled, grabbing the bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “Dang, this is heavy.”

“Sorry again.” He spoke now guilt lacing his words.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. We’re friends. And I do need a break from just blindly throwing paint on my canvases.” You giggled along with him. “I’ll be over in an hour or so. I hope Park doesn’t kill you by then.”

“So do I.”

Your steps were quick down the stairs of your loft appartment which led to the small florist shop underneath it. You passed by Yeosang who greeted you with a smile and grabbed the pair of keys from the back room. Jihyo was currently serving a customer as you hurriedly ran past them.

“I’m borrowing your car for a short while.”

“Did Chan forget something again?” She asked while she prepared the bouquet for the customer.

“His swim bag.” And you left the store.

You’ve lived with your two best friends, the very scary yet beautiful florist Park Jihyo and forgetful playboy Bang Chan, since freshman year of college. You guys were well adults now, doing your own thing but still living together above Jihyo’s flower shop. Chan worked as an assistant swim coach at the local college swim team and he enjoyed his job drilling those poor students the best he could. Jihyo opened her flower shop during her last year of college and has been working there with Yeosang ever since. And you? You held art exhibitions from time to time, selling some paintings here and there.

The ride to the local college was uneventful as you parked the car and made your way towards the pool. Students stood around, some going to class, some studying in the soft breeze and others just casually chatting with each other. With a small smile you entered the pool area, squeaking in surprise when a group of girls shuffled passed you annoyed.

“Are you okay?” A voice spoke, pulling you out of the way so the girls wouldn’t stomp all over you. “Sorry about them, they get angry when I tell them to leave practice so that the boys can focus.”

“It’s okay. They surprised me is all.” You sighed, looking up at the blond man who helped you out. “Thanks Park.” You beamed up at him.

Park Seonghwa was the main coach for the college swim team and technically Chan’s boss. He was also friends with Yeosang and you’ve known him since college. He was a nice guy with you, sometimes holding danger in his eyes but overall he was just soft with you.

“What brings you here?” He asked as you two entered towards the pools.

“Chan forgot his swim bag.” You looked at the unamused expression Seonghwa had on his face from the corner of your eye and only giggled now fully facing him. “Don’t be too harsh on him. He’ll get a much more doom filled talk when he comes back home from Jihyo.”

“I sure do hope so. He’s really become irresponsible as of lately.” The blond muttered.

“He’s just going through some stuff.” You sighed noticing Chan sitting on the bleachers, his mind wandering. “I’ll just give him the bag and leave. I won’t hold up practice for you guys.”

You ran over to your friend, flicking his fore head to bring him back to the land of the living. He looked up at you and smiled, taking the bag off your shoulder and throwing it on the ground. He pulled out a pack of baby wipes and started gently rubbing off some paint you had on your cheek.

“You have baby wipes?” You asked, closing your eye so he doesn’t peck it out.

“Of course! I have to take care of my struggling artist.” He giggled with you. “Jihyo has some too in her bag for these exact reasons.”

“Thanks.” You nodded your head as Seonghwa joined you two.

“Get dressed Bang, I’m gonna need your help today more than so.” He said, his eyes not amused by the exchange of affection you two displayed.

“Yes sir!” He said and got up to go. “Thanks for bringing this over y/n.”

“No problem!” You yelled out after him as he waved goodbye to you.

“Are you guys like dating yet or not?” Seonghwa muttered out lowly but you still caugh on.

“You know Chan and I are just roommates. And he has this undying crush on Jihyo not me.” You sighed looking after his frame. “It’s sad that she now has a boyfrined and he’s alone, but at the same time it’s his own fault for not saying something to her on time.” You looked over at Seonghwa and shrugged your shoulders. “Love’s harsh in that way I guess.”

You turned to leave so that you won’t bother their job anymore and noticed how the boys in the pool looked to be having fun as they splashed each other. It made you smile when Seonghwa blew his whistle fiercly telling them to do a few laps to warm up. That whole picture gave you an idea but you couldn’t exactly place your finger on it.

Something was missing.

“Good luck Park.” You waved him goodbye and left.

･*:༅

Waiting in line for coffee at Sugarberry’s you and Jihyo chatted along your mind wandering a bit. You were scared for the upcoming days because you had a gallery show in about two months but only had half of the pieces done.

“You’re still struggling with your art?” Jihyo asks as she pays for your coffee.

“Yeah. I can’t seem to find inspiration anywhere...” You sigh and give her a thanks for your coffee. “I don’t even know where to look.”

“Well, the bookshop down the street has something like a poetry night. Maybe you’ll get inspired by some words?”

“That’s not a bad idea.”

“What’s not a bad idea?” Chan suddenly grabbed you both by the shoulder, pulling you in for a bear hug.

“Poetry night.” Jihyo answered with a huff.

“Sounds boring.”

“I may find my inspiration there.” You giggled out. “Wanna come with?”

“Sorry y/n, but Daniel is coming back from his business trip so I’m going over to his house.” Jihyo apologised and you saw Chan’s mood darken a bit.

“What about you Chan?”

“Poetry ain’t for me.” He simply stated.

“Aww, I guess I’ll go alone.” You sighed trying to get the two with your puppy eyes. “Not working?”

“No, sorry.” Both answered.

From the corner of your eye you saw something blue fluttering around and your friends also turned to look at you at the same time. They followed your gaze and were also mesmerized with the creature floating around you suddenly.

“A blue butterfly?” You whispered out the quesiton as it landed on your head. “And it landed on me!”

“I’ve never seen a blue one before.” Jihyo commented.

“Where’d you come from little guy?” Chan brought his face close to your head.

“You’ll scare the butterfly away.” The waitress laughed as she came over to you three. “It’s a rare sight. Blue ones aren’t that common.”

“You know, they say that if you wish upon one it may come true.” She said with a smile. “You better make a wish before it flies off.”

As she left you looked up at the winged creature on your bangs and smiled, whispering out a small wish.

I wish to find inspiration again.

The butterfly flewed off in the direction of the exit of the outside terace of the caffe and you noticed Seonghwa walking in with two other boys. His eyes caught yours and he raised his eyebrows in surprise. He wasn’t expecting to see you all together. The small creature circled the blond man and disappeared into the skies. And in that moment it clicked to you. The inspiration was there for you all the time.

It was in Park Seonghwa.

“I see you still like Irish coffee.” He chuckled at your half dazed gaze at him.

“I haven’t stopped.” You laughed as his friends entered the shop. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” He stopped in his tracks.

“This may sound weird, but bear with me for a moment.” You sighed as your friends walked up a bit so they could let you talk to him in private. “I want to draw you, but like would you be willing to let me draw you?”

“I know it’s a weird request, but I finally found my inspiration in you.” You blushed at the last bit. “And I’d like to explore it fully if you’ll let me.”

“To draw me?” He thought for a second, his eyes following your every reaction. It was fascinating to him how you still looked on at him in wonder, since college to now. “Why not? I think It will be fun.”

“Really?” You were surprised at the answer.

“Yeah.” He smiled at your happy expression.

“Awesome!” You exclaimed. “You know where we live right?”

“Yeah, I took Chan home enough after drunken nights to know.” He laughed out. “Does Wednesday sound good?”

“Yeah. Come by whenever you’re free.” You said excited and jumped over to your friends. “Oh and Seonghwa?” He looked after you. It was the first time since college that you said his name. “Thanks.”

･*:༅

A sharp knock on your front door got you to your feet from your position and you went to open it, revealing a cool looking Seonghwa. He was neatly dressed in a jumper and some washed out jeans, his hair still a bit wet from his job. You let him in with a smile and he placed his shoes by yours, entering the small appartment.

He noticed how the living room was cozy with a simple couch, a few swinging chairs hanging off the ceilings and flowers scattered around. The kitchen was close by warm as ever and four more doors decorated the walls. He noticed how every door was painted over except for one.

“Interesting doors.” He said observing them.

“Right?” You giggled. “When we first moved in Jihyo had this idea for me to paint the doors of our rooms with something that represents each of us. That’s why her door has so much flowers, Chan’s has the coast of Australia and if you look closely I tried painting him on a surfboard but failed miserably, and my door has the view of the Eifel tower because I feel like that’s something every artist needs.” You shrugged your shoulders and led him into your room.

Your canvas and paints have been prepared neatly in front of your bed and Seonghwa took notice just how artistic your room was. Especially the floor with all the paint splotches covering it.

“Ignore the floor.” You said as you noticed him looking at it. “I tried scrubbing it off but it didn’t exactly work so I just gave up.”

“Nah, I think it’s kind of cool. It gives this room your personal touch.” He laughed and went over to sit on your bed. “So how do you want me?”

“Um well, can you lay on the bed? But like sideways. Propt by your elbow. Maybe one leg up too.” You went over to position him as you thought right and Seonghwa felt his breath hitch when you went to touch his shoulder.

It was a feather touch, just enough to let his jumper slide off his shoulder but it got him all hot and bothered. You were so focused that you didn’t pay attention to any of his expressions while you were this close to him, only looking up when you went back to your canvas.

“This is perfect.” You said with a smile. “I’ll just sketch this out today.”

As you said that you plopped a blueberry from your bedside table into your mouth and went on to your work. The man just observed you and enjoyed this silence which was much needed after a long work day.

The hours passed and you noticed that Seonghwa was eyeing the bowl of blueberries on your table. You laughed out loud when you caught his off guard as you threw one at him.

“If you want some just take them.” You said and handed him the bowl. “I don’t bite if you want some.”

As Seonghwa took the bowl your whole perspective changed and it was then that something hit your heartstrings like a truck.

“Keep the bowl.” Is all you said and rearranged your sketch.

“You like blueberries?” He asked, filling the room with his deep voice.

“They’re my focus berries.” You answered laughing along with him at your words. “They help me focus.”

The comfortable silence which filled the room coated your being with warmth as you continued to do an outline. Chan came home not long after and greeted you both, but locked himself in his room and you sighed.

“Is he okay?” Seonghwa asked.

“He will be.” You shrugged your shoulders and looked over at the time, jumping to your feet and startling the man. “Oh no, I’ll be late.”

And you remembered he was still in the room with you and you blushed in embarrassement with everything.

“I wanted to go to the poetry night at the bookshop and it’s starting soon.” You said with a small head scratch. “I hope you don’t mind if I cut our session here.”

“Not at all.” He said sitting up and watching you grab a jacket and some stuff so you can leave. “Would you mind if I tag along?”

･*:༅

“That was so beautiful.” You whispered out as the poetry night came to an end. “Those romance poems really have my hands tingling. I can’t wait to get back and start painting.” You sighed in content, finally coming back with a new found inspiration. “Jihyo was right, I needed this.”

“I’m glad.” Seonghwa stated as he walked beside you.

“But that still doesn’t change the fact that I want to paint you.” You stuck your tongue out at him. “Same time next week?”

“Sure.”

You walked up the steps to your appartment and went back into your room, getting a new canvas out and happily getting lost in your thing. The days passed and so did a month, the painting of Seonghwa almost finished. You guy became much closer friends over this period and he was actually amazed at how well you drew. Today was the last day of working on his painting and just as you finished, you took the canvas to the kitchen so it could dry.

“We’re done.” You said as you went to get your brushes.

“Awesome, can I see it?” He asked.

“Nope. You have to come to my gallery show to see it!” You excitedly waved one of your brushes and it sploshed some blue paint onto his face. You snorted out a laugh. “Sorry.”

“Well, I guess it’s okay.” He looked next to him and quickly took a brush and placed a large dot of black on your own cheek. “Now we’re even.”

The huff of surprise you let out was followed by a giggle and a battle of paint broke out between you two. Even one of your blank canvases was now fully covered in greens, bluess, reds and some whites. Seonghwa splashed some paint on your uncovered back and the play time stopped.

“Seonghwa! How will I wash this off now?” You laughed thinking how Chan was out for the night and Jihyo was spending the weekend with her boyfriend.

“Come on, I’ll help you.” He laughed along going to the bathroom.

You followed after him, moving your hair from the way so he could easily access your back. As you did, the strap of your shirt fell off your shoulder and it had the blond man gulping with nerves. He was very gentle in rubbing off the paint, easily cleaning it from your skin. On the other hand, you were blushing like crazy, heat spreading through your body.

“Hey.” He whispered out. “Why were you so scared of me in college? Whenever I hung out with Chan you’d run away from me.”

His touch made you shiver and you know he noticed.

“I wasn’t scared.” You whispered back. “I was just shy. I had this huge crush on you but didn’t act on it because I thought you didn’t like me like that...” You sighed. “I still do.”

You felt the feathery kiss on your exposed shoulder.

“There was a whole magnificent soul burning brightly behind her shy.”

The whisper was close to your ear and you turned around, your heart hammering away in your ribcage. His eyes were tender, but there was hidden lust in them, something you didn’t notice before. Even though he had it all the while while looking at you.

“Have you ever wondered why I never had a girlfriend throughout college? Or even now?” His fingers travelled down your back, the touch leaving fire in it’s wake.

“Rumors were that you were a playboy.”

“I’ve had my fair share of hook-ups, but only because I couldn’t have the one girl I really wanted.”

“You really wanted to have sex with me?” You turned around, raising your eyebrow. “I’m not the type to do this one night.”

“I know, and I really don’t want to.” He came closer to you now, your noses touching. “I want to fuck you everyday, the whole day.” His breath faned over your face. “How does that sounds?”

“Tempting.” You whispered back. “But we’re covered in paint.”

“A minor set back which can be washed off.” He chuckled, pulling you even closer than before, his hands landing on your hips. “Care to join.”

In slow motion his hands brushed against your skin, pulling your shirt over your head. His hands made their way behind your back and climbed up to reach your bram skillfully unhooking it, all while not breaking eye contact with you. The minute his breath hit your neck, you tugged on his shirt, his smirk striking as he stepped back to take it off.

“You enjoying the view baby?”

“Are you?” With a strong tug you unbuckled his belt.

“Well look who’s been working out.” He laughed, grabbing the waistband of your jeans. “You’ll have to slow down a bit baby, we still have some paint to wash off.”

Soon enough you were both standing in the shower, the hot water pooling by your legs in a specter of colours. He kissed along your jaw, his hot kisses left stings on your body as the electricity transferred from his mouth to your skin. Your shoulders were now stained blue and purple, the bulge which was his dick now struggling against your ass. You moaned and whimpered at the same time when his hands wandered down your body towards your folds, that ticklish feeling becoming stronger as he teased your clit.

“God, I can’t take it anymore y/n.” He breathed out as he pressed you closer to him, his hardness growing even more. “I need you.” He mumbled into your ear. “I want you.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Your hazed eyes looked back at him as you stepped on your toes to give him better access.

He didn’t hesitate, he thurst in full strength, the surprise and pleasure filling you fully. The moan which followed made him shiver with something so unknown that his heart skipped a beat.

“Oh my God.” He groaned, hips coming to meet yours full force. “This is, uh, fuck, you’re perfect.” He stuttered. “You just feel so fucking good.” The breathlessness he was showcasing was matched with your loud moans which you were sure Yeosang could hear downstairs.

“H-Hwa...” The groan which left his throat grumbled in your abdomen how strong it was. “F-Faster, I need to take you whole!”

His eyes rolled to the back of his head. He couldn’t believe you would say something like that. Hell, he never imagined he’d have the chance to fuck your brains out like this.

He pulled almost fully out of you, pausing for a moment only to slip back into your core, a moan erupting from both of your throats. You could feel him inside of you, moving along the ridges of your core and giving you that electric feeling deep inside of the pit of your stomach. He leaned down, bitting on your shoulder as he thrusted into your lower half. He was getting faster, harder, and rougher, and still, it wasn’t enough. His hand came to slap your ass harshly, your walls tightening around him as a result.

“You like that baby.” His shit eating grin had you pulling him into a kiss.

He hooked one of his arms under your leg to get a better angle, pushing you up against the glass doors of your shower, your boobs becoming more sensitive with the cold friction provided.

“I’m really close Hwa.” You cried out.

It’s a mess. Loud. Wet. Uncomfortable. But the high rippling through your body makes it all up to you.

“The way you moan my name has me going places y/n.” He whispered in your ear, pushing your leg up higher and reaching your sweet spot. The way your leg shook had Seonghwa smile to himself knowing he was making you feel like this. When your eyes made contact with his, when he saw just how fucked you were, and when a whimper of his name left your lips... Seonghwa went crashing down. His thursts were so good you let yourself go, tightening around him and cumming with a squeaze of your eyes.

Seonghwa lost his footing and fell with you on top of him, hitting so deep he released his seed inside of you, making you spasm all over.

The water came over you much stronger than before and you noticed from your tired vision that as you both fell, you broke the handles and the water wasn’t going to stop soon.

“Fuck...” You layed back onto him, letting his dick fall out of you and the jizz to come out your throbbing hole. “This will be fun to explain to Chan.”

“It’s okay, I know how to fix it.” He said his breathing barely coming back to normal. “I’m sorry I came inside you... It wasn’t my intention.”

“I’m on the pill so we’re good.” You huffed out tired. “Though I’d like a nap.”

“Come on, let’s get cleaned up and I’ll fix the shower head while you take a nap.” He helped you up and you giggled.

“I hope we can have more of these.” You commented.

“More accidents in the shower?” He laughed.

“More sex.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” He came up to you and kissed you on the lips. “We will.”

･*:༅

“But y/n, that painting could make hundreds of thousands of won!” Daniel yelled after you as you walked the gallery halls. “Come on, you have to sell it!”

“Daniel, for the last time.” You turned to him, glaring daggers at his pleading eyes. “I’m not selling the painting of my boyfriend to anybody!”

With a huff you walked up to Jihyo and Chan as he followed after you. You pleaded with her to stop her stupid boyfriend before you commited a crime and she was quick to put him in his place.

“Why don’t you deal of the rest of my paintings? Why must you target that one?”

“Because you can feel the emotion you put into it.” He whined.

“Yes, and that’s why it will hang in my living room.” An arm snaked around your waist and a kiss was placed on your shoulder. “Please stop trying to sell me off.”

Daniel grumbled but pulled back. You greeted Seonghwa’s friends as they scattered around the hall, enjoying your pieces which hung off the walls. Seonghwa turned to look at the picture in which he laid on your bed, surrounded by sunlight and your many knick-nacks, one hand holding the bowl of blueberries and the other plopping one into his mouth. The most intense gaze staring back at him.

“What made you consider me to be your main piece?” He asked you suddenly.

“I wished upon a blue butterfly and you happened to walk in.” You smiled at him. “I guess that waitress was right.” Your eyes held so much affection for him. “I found my inspiration in you.”

#ateez imagines #ateez #park seonghwa #ateez reactions #ateez smut #blueberry

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 4 years

Text

Mobster!Steve Rogers - Pt. II

PART 1

(Or you’ll be super confused.)

Y/N got lost in the painting before her. There was a tall flute of champagne in her grasp, but she had been getting so engrossed in the artwork that she kept forgetting she even had it.

It was Thursday night after work. Almost all of the galleries in New York would have open receptions that included free wine and hors d’oeurves. Y/N had a bad day at work, and decided to treat herself and try to calm down with art and alcohol.

Her eyes glanced around the gallery as she moved on to another painting. This gallery was definitely swankier than the others in the area. Y/N even had to stop her jaw from dropping when she overheard a potential buyer ask for a price and the curator gave a number in the thousands, as if it was no big deal. Well, Y/N guessed it wasn’t a big deal to the rich.

“Hi,” a voice said from behind Y/N.

She slightly jumped – not enough for anyone to notice – and turned around.

There was an older man smiling expectantly at her. He was well dressed and clearly one of the people at the gallery who could actually afford the art.

Yet everything about him felt off, sleazy. He was too confident, too sure of himself. It wasn’t charming. It was off putting.

“Hello,” Y/N replied with indifference before taking a sip of champagne.

“I’ve been trying to look at the art all night. But it seems you keep distracting me.”

Y/N was grateful she’d swallowed her champagne, because she snorted a laugh at the stupid pickup line.

“Is that so?” She made sure to make her tone sound as bored as possible.

Maybe her sheer lack of enthusiasm would scare him away.

“How about we get out of here, grab some real drinks?”

“No, thank you.” Y/N turned back to the paintings and took another sip.

“No?” He leaned forward so he was in her vision once again.

“Yes, that’s what I said.” She raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“Ah… I see. You have a boyfriend.”

Y/N couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes. She turned to him once again. “No, I don’t have a boyfriend.” Then she got herself riled up. She’d had a bad day and therefore this man was out of luck. “Why is it that men can’t seem to respect the word ‘no’? It doesn’t matter if I do or do not have a boyfriend. I’m not interested. And that should be enough.”

“So you’re one of those girls…”

Y/N closed her eyes for a moment. She knew she shouldn’t take the bait. She knew that! But this idiot of a man was making it so hard not to verbally destroy him.

“One of those girls?” She challenged. Her eyes flickered around, making sure they hadn’t gained an audience of any sort. After all, this was a fancy establishment and the last thing she wanted to do was cause a scene.

“Man-hater. Acts offended whenever a guy tries to compliment her. I swear, men can’t even talk to women without getting accused of being a predator.”

He was starting to sound more irritated and angry as he went on.

Y/N’s fire was suddenly extinguished when her survival instincts kicked in.

She felt the fear all women felt when men became unnecessarily angry.

It didn’t matter if she wanted to have a night alone, looking at artwork. She needed to leave before this stranger really caused a scene – or worse, he got physical.

Y/N threw back the rest of her champagne and smoothly placed it on the tray of a passing server. She made moves to quickly walk past him.

Her heart pounded when she felt him following her retreating steps.

“I’m not some creep you know?” He practically hissed at her.

The man was clearly just trying to make himself feel better now. And in the process, he was making Y/N feel more and more unsafe and uncomfortable.

“You don’t have to treat me like some predator.”

Y/N chose the route of ignoring now, just wanting to escape as soon as possible. She hoped he wouldn’t follow her outside. Then she’d have to order a car, not wanting to risk jumping on the subway and getting stuck in a car with him.

“Excuse me,” a voice suddenly interrupted from behind both of them.

Y/N froze. She swore she knew that voice.

She turned around to find Steve Rogers standing in a classic suit and tie. Beside him was another man, just as handsome and tall and buff man, with shaggy brunette hair and scruff.

“Mind your own business,” the man answered, not doing a very good job of hiding his annoyance from the interruption.

Steve didn’t like that. “I own this gallery, so it’s very much my problem.”

Y/N shifted her weight.

Steve had yet to truly look at her. However, his companion was trying to assess how distressed she was from the situation.

“And I don’t appreciate you making my patrons uncomfortable. Please leave.” There was no room for argument in his tone.

The man didn’t appreciate be brushed aside. He took an aggressive step towards the two men. “You’ve got some balls talking to me that way.”

But before he could take another step or say another word, Steve’s friend stepped forward with an expression that instantly convinced Y/N that he was about to kill the guy.

Steve quickly put a hand on his friend’s chest. “I’ll handle this, Buck.”

Buck. As in Bucky? Y/N remembered hearing that name. Steve used to mention him in their conversations all the time. He was Steve’s best friend.

He immediately stood down. Steve leaned in and added something in a whisper that Y/N couldn’t catch.

In that short-lived romance with Steve, Y/N could never even slightly imagine Steve angry or scary.

But now he looked like a different person.

Y/N finally saw the mobster.

“What is this, some kind of joke?” The man spat right as Steve grabbed his upper arm in a vice-like grip and dragged him away. But he didn’t take him to the main entrance, instead going towards a back exit Y/N didn’t even notice before. Steve managed to do all of this without disrupting any of the guests.

Y/N was now uncomfortable in a completely different way.

She was trying to figure out if she could make a clean getaway.

But Bucky seemed to be reading his mind. “Mind waiting? I know Steve would like to talk to you before you run off again.”

Again.

Had Steve told Bucky about her? The idea of two mobsters sitting around and talking girls brought amusement to Y/N.

“S-Sure,” she didn’t mean to stutter. “Can I get you a glass of champagne? I promise it’ll be the good stuff that we keep hidden away.”

Y/N was taken aback that this man went from looking like he was about commit murder in plain sight to a charming gentleman.

“I’m good. Thank you though.”

He nodded. “Come on.”

She stuttered into step, not sure where he planned on taking her. But for some reason, she blindly followed him anyway.

Bucky led her to a back terrace. It wasn’t open to the public, but still lit to perfection.

An awkward silence settled between them.

“So you’re Bucky, right? The best friend since childhood. The one always pulling him out of fights.”

That earned her a chuckle from him. “That would be correct.”

Then the door opened to the terrace and they both turned to see Steve walking out as he straightened his tie and rebutted his suit.

Bucky turned back to Y/N and gave her a shy smile. “It was nice meeting you, Y/N,” and with that, he walked out of the terrace.

It took her a little too long to realize that she had never given Bucky her name.

Then the same energy that had passed between Y/N and Steve while they were dating returned as if it were only yesterday.

“So…Did you kill him?” Y/N couldn’t help but ask.

“He’s not worth the cleanup.”

Y/N’s eyes widened.

Then Steve broke into an innocent smirk. “I’m messing with you, Y/N.” She blinked at him even saying her name. “I wasn’t sure if you’d remember me. After all, it’s been, like–“

“A year and a half,” Steve finished for her with a jarring amount of confidence.

“Yeah,” she admitted. Though clearly she hadn’t forgotten him at all either.

“You’re kind of hard to forget,” Steve admitted quietly.

Y/N didn’t know how to respond to that, or if she even should. So, she decided to change the subject.

“Do you really own this place?”

He looked around. “Yeah, I always had an affinity for the arts. I don’t run the place or anything. I just make sure it stays in business.”

“Guess that makes sense now that I think about it. You did go to art school after all.”

Steve seemed flattered that she remembered. “Yeah…but then my dad passed right after graduation and I…Well, I was expected to take over the family business.”

“I didn’t know that…I didn’t know that’s how you got to where you are,” Y/N admitted softly.

Steve cleared his throat. “How’ve you been?”

“Umm…fine.” Y/N hated questions like that. No one ever wanted an honest answer. She didn’t get why anyone even bothered asking it.

“Just fine?” Steve prodded, proving that he was one of the people that actually did care about her answer.

Y/N laughed then. “I mean…my life’s pretty much the same since you last saw me.”

God, she probably sounded like such a loser.

“That can’t be true,” Steve tried to argue.

She winced a bit. “Well, it is. Same apartment, same job, same friends–”

“Same boyfriend?”

Y/N stopped and read his face.

Steve instantly regretted his question. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t – I have no place asking you that question.”

“Steve, it’s OK.” Then she sighed. “Same boyfriend,” she confirmed, “as in there isn’t one.”

He looked like he wanted to say something, but was using a lot of restraint?

“What?” Y/N asked.

“Nothing.”

“No, you want to say something,” she said through a smile.

“You don’t want to hear it.” “Well, now I have to know!”

“I just…I don’t get it,” Steve sighed.

“Get what?”

“How no one is worshipping the ground you walk on…”

Y/N rolled her eyes.

“See! You don’t want to hear it.”

Y/N cleared her throat and took a step closer to him. “Had it ever occurred to you that maybe the reason is due to how disappointing men are?”

Steve laughed. “Then I apologize on behalf of men.”

“Why? I wasn’t talking about you.” There was a playfulness in her eyes as she said it.

“Thank you, by the way,” Y/N muttered as she looked at the ground.

“For what?”

“Stepping in back there. I shouldn’t have riled him up. I was stupid – thought I could handle it.”

“It was nothing.” Steve shrugged.

“You and I both know that’s not true.” “I can go finish the job and kill him if it’ll make you feel better,” he offered.

“Steve!”

“What?” He asked innocently.

Then Y/N caught sight of his hands. His knuckles were red and irritated, a few of them were already a little bruised. She assumed that man wouldn’t be harassing any women for a little bit. And the world was better for it.

A chill suddenly went down Y/N’s spine. She wrapped her arms around herself tightly.

“Can I walk you home? Or I can get my driver–”

“Yes,” Y/N answered before he could offer another option.

On the walk home, it was like no time had passed at all. Steve asked Y/N about her job, her friends, and her family, remembering names and specifics details.

Y/N wished her apartment was further away. During their walk, she realized how much she had missed Steve. Yes, they had never defined their relationship or made it official. But they had gotten to know each other so quickly. Not to mention Y/N had immediately felt comfortable and close with him since date one.

“This is you, right?” Steve pointed to her stoop. This wasn’t the first time he’d walked her home.

Y/N fidgeted with her hands in front of her.

“Wanna…uhh…Would you like to come up?” The words spewed out before she even knew what she was trying to ask.

She didn’t know why she bothered asking. Steve was a gentleman, too polite–

“Yes,” he answered almost instantly.

Steve kept his distance as they went up the building stairs. He was even patient as Y/N fumbled to put her keys into the door.

But as soon as Y/N closed her apartment door behind them, Steve was on her.

She didn’t believe it was possible to have a more heated and passionate kiss than the one they had shared in that alley.

Boy, was she wrong.

Steve took charge, made her feel just how much he wanted her.

But then he pulled away and stared into her eyes. “Sorry…I–I…”

“Steve, I swear to god, if you go all nice guy on me now, I will kick your ass.” Y/N gave him a warning look that proved just how serious she was. “My bedrooms that door. So, what are you going to do about it?”

Steve smirked and was back on her.

To Y/N’s surprise, his hands drifted down her waist and then on the outsides of her thighs until they moved to the back and lifted her up.

She giggled at the gesture and wrapped her legs around his waist.

Y/N let out another adorable giggle when Steve slightly ran them into a wall.

“I’m trying to navigate blind in an apartment I’ve never been inside. Give a guy some slack.”

————————————

Y/N awoke with the feeling like last night had been a dream. But the marks on her skin and the lingering feeling assured it that it was very much real. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a sleeping man on the other side of the bed to assure her as well.

Steve was nowhere to be found. Neither were his clothes.

Y/N sighed, trying to figure out how that all made her feel.

Was it for the best? Was she offended? Was she sad? Was she relieved?

Her racing thoughts stopped when she heard noises coming from her kitchen.

She quickly found a pair of shorts and an oversized band t-shirt that was laying around.

Deciding to be very quiet, Y/N slipped out of her room and found Steve in his undershirt from last night and boxers. His missing clothes were folded nicely on top of one of the seats at her counter.

Steve was lost in his own thoughts as he made breakfast.

Y/N leaned against the doorway taking it all in.

She wondered what it would be like for this to become her normal. Steve just looked like he belonged in her kitchen.

Y/N’s throat tightened and her stomach dropped when she realized that she didn’t know what it felt like to share her life with someone like that.

She quickly cleared her throat before the emotions could take over. “Thought you snuck out.”

Steve quickly turned around. “Really think I’d do that?” Y/N shrugged and stepped further into the kitchen. She sat at the kitchen counter and watched in amusement as Steve continued making them breakfast.

“I made coffee already,” he pointed to the filled pot with his spatula.

She nodded and poured herself some.

“Steve…” He quickly turned around and she noticed how sad his blue eyes looked. “Whatever you were about to say…Can we just – Is it OK if we enjoy this just a little bit longer?”

Y/N instantly shut her mouth and nodded. Then she eyed the scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast he’d cooked. “You didn’t have to make me breakfast…”

Steve just gave her a look that said, ‘Of course I fucking did. Why wouldn’t I?’

“Sorry my apartment is so…small.” Y/N apologized softly. She assumed he had not one, but multiple luxurious homes around the world. This place probably seemed like a dingy shoebox in comparison.

Steve looked around with a smile. “I love your apartment. It’s homey and cozy and it feels like you.”

Y/N was so taken aback by his retort that she just blinked at him.

They both ate in a surprisingly comfortable silence. Y/N kept wondering how he did that, how he made her feel so safe with him.

Once Steve was finished, he leaned back in his seat and looked at her patiently. That was the only cue she was going to get.

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for how I ended things last time,” she told him gently.

“You shouldn’t be sorry,” Steve corrected. “You did the right thing.”

Y/N’s mouth went dry. “I did?”

“I was selfish. I wouldn’t accept that you aren’t meant for my world. I refused to even consider how dangerous your life would become for just being with me.” Steve shook his head. “I was selfish,” he repeated.

Y/N refused to meet his eyes now. “So…what does that make last night?”

“Last night was…” Steve smiled shyly. “Last night was perfect.”

Y/N eyed him. “But you’re about to tell me that it’s all there’s going to be, aren’t you?”

Steve leaned forward and rubbed his face.

“Y/N, I can’t drag you into my toxic life. I won’t do that to you.” He shook his head at the mere idea. “Y/N… you deserve someone who can be an honest man for you. Someone who’s life isn’t going to get you killed.”

“You’ve never lied to me, Steve.”

“But I will. Because if I fully opened up that side of me, you’d never look at me the same. I can’t lie to you and I can’t terrify you with the reality. Don’t you get it?”

Y/N’s eyes glazed over, but she made herself keep it together. “So, what do we have then?”

Steve sighed. “I guess we just have the past.”

She scoffed at him. “After last night, with the way we feel when we’re together…You’re not even willing to try?”

“No, Y/N. I’m not willing to risk your safety.”

Then he was up, taking his clothes to the bathroom with him.

He came out a few minutes later, his hair fixed and his clothes looked like they could’ve come right from the cleaners.

“Please don’t hate me,” he finally whispered.

That’s when Y/N couldn’t keep the tears back any longer. She laughed from both the idea of hating him and being embarrassed for crying.

“Steve, I don’t think I could ever hate you.”

Then he couldn’t stop himself. Steve pulled Y/N into his arms, holding her tightly to his chest.

“I wish things were different,” he spoke into her hair. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

And with that, he kissed the top of her head and made his escape.

It was Y/N that pushed him away the first time. To protect her heart, her morals, probably her life.

But now it was Steve pushing her away. Not because he didn’t love her, but because he had to keep her safe.

----------------------------------------

And you all thought you were getting a second chance at a fluffy, happy ending...

Part III

#mobster!steve rogers #mobster!steve rogers x reader #mafia!steve rogers #mafia!steve rogers x reader #gangster!steve rogers #gangster!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers reader insert #steve rogers AU #mafia marvel au #invisible anonymous monsters #invisibleanonymousmonsters #steve rogers fanfic #gangster marvel au #mobster marvel au #steve rogers angst #steve rogers x reader

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jinxofthecipher · 3 years

Text

Scene, Part 2:

It all starts with a small box of chocolates.

Deidara doesn’t notice them at first. Not when he’s busy checking his wallet, making sure they have enough to cover the bill that’s coming. Yep, all good, he thinks, returning to his bowl of rice and eyeing the restaurant once more. They chose a seat in the back corner where it gives an ample view of the place, enough for any missing-nin to be comforted. It’s bustling, more people than the artist has seen in weeks of travel.

He takes another bite, looks up again and repeats. The straw hat is pulled down low over his face. It does little to hide him, not when he’s wearing his cloak, it’s a dead give-away, especially since the Akatsuki’s started gaining real momentum recently. Even so, the restaurant is so busy that no one seems to take notice, though the few that sit nearby give him wary looks. Everyone else is in their own little worlds, coming and going. Not looking or considering a potential nin in their midst. It’s almost peaceful, a fact that both calms Deidara and makes his hands itch for clay. The mouths click their teeth in agitation and he forces his focus back on the food.

Bowl now empty, Deidara sits back in the booth, arms crossing as he looks around. Where the hell was Tobi? That idiot had left for the bathroom half an hour ago now! He grinds his teeth casting a look at the half-full bowl across from him. Probably got side-tracked again, that dumbass. He may not abhor him as much as he once had but still, that man knew how to get under his skin with little effort (he can just imagine the future meet up with Kakuzu, telling him all about Tobi’s irritations and the older man would of course sigh before going on to explain Hidan’s newest annoyance which usually ended up being far worse and far more bloody than anything Tobi’s done or probably will do, ever. Deidara can’t picture the other ever killing for enjoyment, he hardly even fought anyways, only evaded.).

There is a brief flicker of worry. Of Tobi possibly coming across someone brave enough to get into an Akatsuki members face. They wouldn’t need too much bravery given Tobi’s natural aura of stupidity; everyone undesterimated his partner, Deidara included which he shouldn’t be, not with all the pieces he’s collected, the suspicians, and just how easy it is to forget and believe Tobi’s just an idiot and nothing else. Either way, there should be no cause for alarm. If Tobi can slip past every attack Deidara has ever thrown at him (and those attacks were mighty powerful, if Deidara said so himself) then he could certainly deal with almost anyone else outside the organization.

So he brushes the thoughts away and digs out the money. He’ll wait, for now, at least, he thinks placing the bills on the table and goes to put the wallet back into the pouch. Blue eyes widen a fraction. Huh? He turns, peering into the pouch. Past the kunai and scrolls, at the very bottom is a small square box. It’s a glossy black, managing to catch the swinging light over Deidara’s head.

His eyes narrow instantly and he hovers a hand over the box. No chakra signature. No obvious threat . . . the artist considers it a moment before daring to grab and pull it out.

Pouch and restaurant forgotten, Deidara balances his elbows on the table and runs his fingers over the box before his face. It’s no bigger than a dango box though much wider. A small symbol is etched on top that reads SWEET’S; he recognizes it, a candy store in town that they had passed on the way here. There is also a note taped to the bottom, so securely that, for a second, he thinks it’s just a sticker for the company or price. It’s not and when he realizes this, Deidara digs at the edges with a nail until he’s able to open it. An edge tears, whatever holding it on a bit too good at it’s job but finally, he can read it.

- Hope you like it - is written in barely legiable scrawl that Deidara doesn’t recognize. His eyebrows raise and, cautious, he looks around the restaurant. No one is looking at him, even the wary ones are focused on their food. Who in their right mind would give him a gift? And someone who doesn’t put a name, not even an initial? Well, perhaps it was an admirer of my art, I must’ve made some impression, he smirks at the possibility, smug.

Still, it’s just one of those cheap boxes of chocolate you can get. The one with a mixture of sweets that are never just chocolate. They’re usually an arrange of flavours ranging from carmel to coconut. And Deidara’s sweet tooth is only for chocolate these days. So, he opens it, fully prepared to just toss the box-only to see another note inside, laying delicately over the six chocolates.

- Bought five more to give you all the kinds you liked~ -

Deidara stares, not understanding at first. He looks between the paper to the chocolate below and, slowly, realizes that they all look the same. So they’re all-

Going rigid, the artist looks around the place again. More suspicious then ever, his chakra now a mass of pure unadulterated paranoia. The mouths on his hand click, grinding in his tensity. There is no feasable way that anyone could have snuck the box into his bag AND known his preferences of chocolate. Hell, Tobi didn’t even know!

As if sensing his mood swing and thoughts on him, Deidara sees Tobi skip across the restaurant, waving at one group of people who flinch back at his cloak. “Senpaiiiii,” he whines, hopping into his chair with more energy then Deidara could ever have, “Sorry Tobi took so long!! There was such a lovely person outside the restrooms!”

“He didn’t try and kill you, hm?”

“Nope!” Tobi hums, dipping into thoughtfulness for a second. “Well, maybe? You always try to blow me up sooooo I’m not sure!”

“I’m just keeping you on your toes. At least you dealt with the situation without hassel,” he notes the lack of fear or chakra signatures, if Tobi’s not lying then he did deal with the problem without even raising an alarm. His stomach twists, always feeling off whenever Tobi proves that, yes, he is far more capable then anyone could dream of being. Not that Deidara would ever admit that. And he wasn’t stronger then Deidara! So there. “Anyway, you ever seen this before?” He gives the box a tiny shake, having closed it up again and shoved both notes into his pockets.

Tobi’s head dips, the hole in his mask leveling with the box as he hmm’s in the back of his throat. A hand reaches out, sliding over the edge and brushing Deidara’s just enough for the blonde to notice before pulling back. The other’s head cocks to the side and, for the millionth time, Deidara wishes he could see the face beneath it. He’ll never understand the odd desire to keep it hidden, unless it’s all just to annoy me, his annoyance grows at the thought. “Well?? I swear Tobi, I’ll-!”

“Oh, Deidara senpai, calmmmmm, please? Deidara’s eye twitches at the demand Tobi's seen ‘em cause he bought ‘em!” The artist’s mouth drops open at the proud declaration. His partner leans back into the booth, almost casual looking as he crosses his arms behind his head. “Did you try any of ‘em?? The owner said they were the best they had!”

Deidara was still reeling, eyes wide as he stared at the other, “you bought them?”

“Uh-huh!”

The artist stares at his partner who’s practically vibrating in his chair, leg swinging like a five year old who has no control of their energy. But what else is new? “Care to explain why? I’ve never told you my favorite chocolate,” he huffs, agitated, crossing his own arms to mirror Tobi’s, “And while you’re at it, explain why you decided to get your buisness partner a . . . a,” he searches for the right word.

“Present?”

“Yes. Why get me a present?”

“Cause Tobi loves you~” He coos happily, words dripping in glee and Deidara glares at the obvious jest. Still, his chest tightens a fraction. Seeing his partners look of disbelief, Tobi shakes his head, “it’s true! Beleive poor Tobi for once, senpai! And,” he releases his hands from behind his head and leans forward, into Deidara’s space, “you told Tobi whatcha’ liked!”

A single eyebrow rose, “when?”

“Two months ago!” The mask bobs, eager, hands now flat on the table, a little too close to the ones Deidara has laced together on his side. Truly, if he considered all options, it wasn’t impossible that he wouldn’t have told Tobi his preferences but it was one of millions of conversations they’ve had.

“. . . you remember a random conversation we had, two months ago, about that of all things?”

“Of course!”

“I didn’t think you listened to half the things I say.”

The hands actually do reach his now, attaching onto Deidara’s and giving a firm squeeze as Tobi nods, enthusiastic. “Tobi’s always listening and he always remembers what Deidara senpai says!” He tilts his head, “I promise.” He says, voice lower, full of certainty, and, more importantly, the third person eerily gone. Deidara can’t help feeling uncomfortable at the intensity Tobi is giving him at the moment. The hold on his hands is tight and he can’t tell if it’s a subtle warning or meant to be comforting. Either way, it doesn’t help that he can feel Tobi’s chakra buzzing, it’s the usual thrum but . . . there’s something beneath it. Something darker. Something that brings back questions of why Tobi can dodge every attack, why he was picked last to join the Akatsuki although he’s been around them for much longer. They pull at Deidara’s mind, begging to be put together, to form the rest of the picture. To come to the conclusion that’s been nagging at him for months.

He should look at them. It all points to something bigger, even without proper analysis.

But he discards them. No. Tobi is just his idiot of a partner who is just really good at dodging everything, that’s all. Lies, he thinks and ignores.

“So you just ignore all the other advice I give you?”

“As usual!” Tobi exclaims, the smile so obvious in his tone. He senses the change in chakra instantly and stills before yanking his hands back into a shielding display, “wait! No, senpai Tobi meant no disrespect, simply that- please! Think of the restaurant!”

Needless to say, the restaurant almost became a smoking crater; and two weeks later Deidara finds a rose tucked in his pouch, another note stuck to it and he can’t help the smile he gets at his idiot trying so hard.

Part 1:

https://jinxofthecipher.tumblr.com/post/638984358996344832/headcanonscene-when-deidara-was-first-told-that

#Naruto #Naruto Shippuden #Akatsuki #Deidara #Tobi #Obito Uchiha #Obito #ObiDei #TobiDei #Tobi x Deidara #Obito x Deidara #Obito Uciha x Deidara #Deidara's is probs smart enough to figure out the 'truth' or at least some of it #if he'd only allow himself #but it may be his odd way of protecting his partner and himself from the truth #would've been interesting if Deidara had been suspicious of him. Everything about Tobi if you look closer is odd #this is just the lead up to valentines for Tobi lol or it's a thing he's doing either way it works #I think they're both in a relationship but they're the last ones to know #So somehow Deidara and Kakuzu have become somewhat friends in my writing? They weren't going to be but then the arm thing happened #and they both have very 'irritating' partners (Even if they like them) so complaining to each other makes sense #hmm I like the idea

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florenceandthemachine · 4 years

Text

@hearteyesforbuck asked:

I have been dying for a meet-cute au where Eddie takes Chris to the gym once a week and they box a little together before Eddie spars; usually Chris sits by the ring and reads but one day Eddie finds him laying on a bench, lifting an empty bar while this really cute blond guy spots him and gives him encouragement ....

guess who’s asks are still broken?

Tumblr keeps adding the “Read More” into the ask box, which breaks the entire post when I try to post it. Why is it happening? No idea, but if anyone knows how to fix it, please let me know, this is getting really old.

anyway, fun fact that I just learned about myself—if you want me to dedicate 100% of my brainpower to writing 4.5k of something in one sitting, you just throw in Christopher Diaz.

Eddie liked to think of himself as some kind of a “do it yourself” kind of dad.

Most of the time, that was a good thing.

Kitchen faucet broke? No worries, Eddie has some plumbers tape and three different YouTube videos telling him how to fix it.

Car wouldn’t start? Not a problem, Eddie bought the full repair manual offline and knows his way around a wrench.

Christopher needed forty gluten free, egg free, dairy free cupcakes for class tomorrow? Eddie was perfectly capable of... admitting when he was outmatched by a stand mixer and calling thirteen local bakeries to see if they delivered, because his car still wasn’t starting.

Point is, if there was a way he could work on something, Eddie would at least try it—and needless to say, that got a little complicated where Christopher was involved.

Eddie still wanted to do a lot of it on his own. Chris was his kid, and no one else's, and he didn’t even like being away from him while Chris was at school—he wasn’t sure if that was guilt stemming from leaving Chris as a kid, or guilt about introducing Shannon back into his life only to have her wind up dead, or guilt about... well, pick-a-thing, but he was pretty damn sensitive about what he perceived he could do to help his kid.

Which is why, when Chris’ physical therapist gave Eddie some suggestions about how Chris could work on strength training at home, Eddie dove completely into the deep end, head first, no floaties.

Working on Chris’ fine motor skills had been cake. Writing, drawing, arts and crafts, even playing video games, all helped improve Chris’ hand eye coordination (and if Eddie ran out of room on the fridge for Chris’ masterpieces and started framing them instead, well, that was his own business, no matter how nosy the busybodies at Michael’s got).

Working on his gross motor skills, though, that was another story. They could go on walks, sure, and they did every day. Eddie could hook up the trail-a-bike to his own once or twice a week so Chris could ride along with him, without worrying about his balance, but those were both leg heavy activities—and while it was great that Chris was building his core strength and leg strength, Eddie wasn’t about to just strap a wrist weight to Chris’ arms and call it a ‘well rounded workout’.

Short of more physical therapy, Eddie was at a loss as to what to do—so when Google Maps pushed him off the 101 to avoid a wreck on his way home from work and he got caught by a stop light right next to "Ricky’s Boxing Gym”, Eddie felt like his prayers had been answered.

Over the next few months, they had set up a pretty good routine. Eddie would bring Chris to the gym, they would hop into one of the many rings, and he and his son would get a half hour of quality time, three times a week. Eddie had his own set of boxing mitts, and Chris thought that spending a half hour trying to punch his dad’s hand was the most fun a kid could have after school. Chris would tire himself out and sit on the bench, drawing or reading for a while more, while Eddie would actually spar with one of the staff members, get his own workout in, and then they’d go home.

Nine times out of ten, they’d stop for ice cream or pizza, and completely undo any of the workout they had actually done, but Eddie thought that was a small price to pay for the whoop of joy Chris let out when he actually managed to hit Eddie’s glove dead center.

Eddie’s sparring partner of choice (well, after Chris) was Tommy Kinard. He was nice enough, and kept Eddie on his toes, giving him plenty of time to look over to Chris to make sure he was safe, and happy, and occupied, and (“Dad, I’m fine! Go punch someone!”) okay, maybe he was helicoptering a little bit. He hadn’t really thought it was a problem until Kinard went on paternity leave, leaving him in the capable, and brutal, hands of Boscoe.

Boscoe was a beast. He didn’t know her first name—didn’t know if she had a first name—but what she lacked in pleasantries she more than made up with strength. If Eddie was being honest, though, he kind of loved it; even after the first day they sparred together, when he wound up limping into the 118, proudly admitting to Hen that he had been beat up by a girl.

The thing was, Boscoe was intense, and while that was a good thing, it gave him less of a chance to helicopter over Chris.

Which, okay, maybe that was a good thing too. Whatever.

He knew the gym pretty well by that point, and knew the people who worked there, knew he could trust Chris with any of them—which is why when he looked up after dodging a jab from Boscoe, and saw Chris absent from his bench, he only panicked a little bit.

When he managed to take a wider look around the gym and saw a familiar pair of shoes laying down on a workout bench, the rest of him obscured by a bigger, bulkier body, that panic went from 0-60 real quick.

“Hey!”

He only barely managed to dodge a glancing blow from Boscoe as he ducked beneath the ropes, grabbing a towel to blot at his face as he hopped down. His voice was little more than a quick bark through the gym as he stepped around another group of machines, his frantic pace slowing a little as he got into earshot.

“... yeah, come on buddy, you can do it! Come on, give me one more rep! You got this little man!”

Fuck, had this stranger actually given Chris a set of weights?

His temper was white hot by the time he finally got around the front of the machine, opening his mouth to shout, to get a manager, to do something, but the words died in his throat as he took in the scene before him.

Because Chris was definitely on the bench, and he definitely had his hands on the bar—the bar that was completely devoid of weights, Eddie noticed, the same bar that had two much larger, stronger hands attached to them. Hands that were probably doing all the actual work of lifting the bar, because Chris was laying back, unable to speak, because he was giggling so hard.

The bar landed back on the rack with a dull thunk as Chris pulled his hands back, sticking them straight up in the air triumphantly as he sat up. The man behind the bar gave a big show of leaning against the frame of the bench dramatically, fanning himself, giving Eddie a full view of an employee shirt, name badge, and the gym logo stitched across the polo he was wearing.

Whelp, that was almost very embarrassing for him.

“Holy cow, that was such a good job! Man, you have got to be the strongest kid I’ve ever met in my life!”

“Dad, did you see me? Buck says I’m super strong!”

Eddie had to admit, he was a little thrown by whatever was happening here, but Chris was obviously having a good time, and he felt the white hot anger dissipate into something a little less angry and a little more embarrassed.

“That was some pretty impressive work, buddy! Have you been holding out on me?” Eddie dipped down and tossed a few playful jabs at Chris, selfish only because he wanted to prolong the joy his son was obviously feeling, but it was all worth it as he was handsomely rewarded when Chris started giggling again.

The man—Buck, Eddie gathered—laughed, drawing Eddie’s attention upward, and for a moment, his brain short circuited, because there was no way on earth a gym rat could be this... pretty.

Because damn. Buck was pretty.

Pretty enough that Eddie was easily distracted, waxing poetic (internally, thankfully) about beefy arms and a plush lip that he didn’t notice what was happening until Buck stuck a hand out, smiling, and Eddie could only guess what was going on. He reached out and took the hand, his own smile hitching as Buck’s face slipped into confusion.

“Uhh—”

“...I was asking if you wanted me to take your towel for you and get you a fresh one.”

Oh. Right. Towel.

Eddie’s face burned as he pulled the towel off his shoulder, handing it over, giving a too-tight laugh as he nodded his head. “Yes! If you could get me a new towel so I could strangle myself in embarrassment, that would be great.”

Well, at the very least, that got Buck to laugh again—death would be worth it if that was the last sound he heard. “Sorry I kind of stole your kid. He was wandering in between the machines, and it’s my first week off of the evening shift, so I just wanted to make sure he didn’t get hurt—but then he started asking about all the weights and pulleys and stuff, you have a really smart kid!”

Total Gym Hottie (Buck, his mind corrected. If he was going to drool over someone the least he could do was use their name) was complimenting his kid now, and Eddie was so star struck he was actually proud to say he didn’t stumble when Buck nudged his shoulder, head jerking back to the ring he had abandoned.

"...anyway, I think strangulation is the least of your worries, if I know that look, Boscoe has an entirely different death planned for you if you don’t get back in the ring. Go on, I’ll help little man here wheel you out on a gurney when she’s done with you.”

Buck sounded way too positive about that, and it was all Eddie could do to groan and walk back to the ring, tail between his legs.

Sure enough, even after he had the next day off, he was still sore when he walked into the 118 for his next shift.

Buck became easily, seamlessly, a part of their routine, in a way that probably deserved a little more insight on Eddie’s part, but insight was for suckers. At least two days out of the week, their schedules aligned—Eddie and Chris still worked on their exercises, but now it included Buck giving a dramatic play by play on the sidelines, talking up Chris like an announcer, or just otherwise causing shenanigans.

It was worth it, easily, because while Chris was certainly never a negative kid, Eddie had never seen him in brighter spirits. And Buck... well, anyone that could find a way to help out his son in a way that Chris clearly enjoyed earned an instant gold star in Eddie’s book. The fact that he was easy on the eyes wasn’t a bad thing, either.

“Diaz, I swear to God—”

Eddie only barely ducked under Boscoe’s extended hand, forcibly rooting himself back in the moment, looking guiltily back to her instead of watching Buck and Chris.

“—can you pay attention for like three minutes so I can hit you without feeling bad about it?”

Eddie tried, he really did, but it was hard. A few weeks had gone by since their initial meeting, and Eddie had gone from “wow he’s pretty” to “full high school crush” in no time flat. It wasn’t his fault, though—because what sealed the deal wasn’t the moment Buck had switched to tank tops over polos, or how happy Eddie was to spend time staring at Buck’s magnificent ass (and it was really, really magnificent, let the record show), it was how he interacted with Chris that sent him over the edge.

Buck was good with Chris, but somehow that was the understatement of the year. He was kind, and he was bubbly, and he was just in sync in a way that Eddie wasn’t even sure he had reached, and Chris was his son. Buck was patient in a way that seemed effortless, easily slowing himself down or changing what he was doing when he noticed Chris struggling, wether it was in going over a math problem while Eddie got the crap beat out of him or just showing him how some of the different machines worked.

Hell, right now, Eddie had his hands securely around Chris’ hips as he lifted the other male to a chin-up bar, helping Chris count out the pull-up’s he was doing—and while all Eddie could hear was Chris’ laughter, all he could see were the thick cords of muscle attached to Buck’s arms, lifting Chris like he weighed nothing.

Eddie wondered, not for the first time, if Buck could lift him like that.

Like she was a horrible mind reading pervert, Boscoe smacked him with an open hand—not hard enough to hurt, but not soft enough that he was going to ignore it.

“Diaz, this will be our last session together. Kinard is back next week—” Another punch, a quick jab that Eddie blocked with his forearms. “—so the least you could do is focus on me and not the apple of your eye over there.”

“Buck isn’t the apple of my—fuck—my eye, grow up.” Eddie huffed as he threw out a punch of his own, his hand knocked away violently, only barely dodging the sharp hook that Boscoe sent to him.

“God, I was talking about your kid, Diaz. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

Oh.

Ignoring how red his face was, Eddie grumbled and threw another quick jab, though he missed completely as Boscoe stepped back, a grin on her face, and Eddie knew better than to trust that look. The last time he trusted that look, he had been talked into fighting bare-handed, and he still wasn’t sure his knuckles would ever really work again.

“You know, Kinard is supposed to take you back as a client, but I bet if you asked nice enough...”

Oh no.

“Hey, Buck!”

Oh no. Eddie looked up in horror as Buck easily lifted Christopher onto his shoulders—god, so much muscle—and jogged over, with the nerve to not even be out of breath when he smiled up to the pair in the ring. Eddie bit his tongue and leaned over to high five his kid, fully prepared to deal with whatever terrible thing was about to come his way.

“Kinard was supposed to take Diaz here back after he’s off leave next week, but I know he wanted to ease back into things after being away from the gym for a few months. You think you could spar with him in the interim?”

Oh, no, didn’t seem to cover it anymore. Eddie was having a hard enough time focusing on the task at hand when Buck was in the same building, he would be signing his own death certificate if he had to stare Buck in the face, and then try to hit said face. He hadn’t even seen Buck break a sweat before—he didn’t know if his little bisexual heart could take it.

He was somehow both relieved and regretful when Buck shook his head, looking plenty apologetic as he pulled Chris up and off of his shoulders, making sure that he was steady on his feet before he leaned up against the ropes. “Sorry, Eddie. I don’t really box, and besides, I think Chris and I are making real progress while you get your butt kicked. Show him the guns, Chris!” Buck said, and Chris immediately started some classic strong-man poses, Buck posing dramatically behind him, and Eddie felt his heart melt for two entirely different reasons.

Buck turned around mid pose as the door chime went off, giving Eddie ample time to count out the individual strands of muscle fiber in the moment before Buck relaxed, turning with a smile back to the gang in the ring. “Lena, that's my next client. Chris, Eddie, I’ll see you both next week, yeah?” He said with a grin before he fist bumped Chris and waved to Eddie, slipping back into Professional Buck mode. Eddie waved back, brows almost in his hairline as he looked back to Boscoe, who was scowling at him.

“So—”

“No, Diaz.”

“Wait, why not? Buck gets to call you Lena!”

“Beat me in the ring as often as Buck does and I’ll consider it.”

Eddie had his mouth open to retort when Chris cut him off, pushing his glasses up on his nose as he tilted his head. “Can I call you Lena?”

She didn’t even hesitate a moment, nodding her head seriously. “You can absolutely call me Lena, squirt.”

Chris promptly stuck his tongue out at his dad, and Eddie reacted in sort, falling to the floor of the ring as he grabbed at his chest. “The nerve! Betrayed by my own child, my own flesh and blood!”

Chris looked thoroughly unimpressed, sitting back on the bench as he started to pack up his schoolwork. “Lena, can you tell my dad to stop being such a drama queen?”

It wasn’t until they were both in the car, that Eddie, thoroughly beaten down by his son, his trainer, and his own brain for providing a play by play of Buck that day while he was in the locker room shower stall, really thought about what Buck said.

He didn’t box. Which was strange enough in a boxing gym, but whatever, there were plenty of machines that Buck could be working on instead.

But them Boscoe (god, he couldn’t even call her Lena in his head, it felt like she would figure it out and beat him to death) basically admitted that Buck regularly whooped her behind the ropes

If Buck wasn’t boxing in a boxing gym, what the hell was he doing?

As it turned out, Eddie didn’t have to wait long to figure it out. Barely a week had passed before Eddie had received a call from Chim, all but begging Eddie to switch shifts so he could take the girl he had been seeing out on a proper date. The switch was a no brainer—Maddie seemed like a great girl, and as much shit as he gave Chim for... well, being Chim, he obviously wanted to see his teammate happy, especially when the only thing he would have to change was a gym day from a Monday to a Sunday.

If he had known that this would be the day that sealed his fate, he probably would have reconsidered the switch all together.

The gym was packed—which probably wasn’t surprising for a weekend day, but damn, Eddie had been glad he booked a ring with Kinard ahead of time. It was nice to see a familiar face in the gym anyway, one that wasn’t trying to beat the crap out of him in the ring, and once Kinard joined up with them, it was easy to shoot the shit. Eddie congratulated him on his step into fatherhood, ruffling Chris’ hair as he did—not that Chris noticed, busy scanning through the machines for a familiar blond head.

Not that Eddie could judge, when he was doing the same thing.

“Hey, I’m gonna toss my stuff in a locker. See you out here in a sec?”

“Yeah, sounds good! Buck and Boscoe are almost done in their ring, we have it next.”

Eddie was halfway to the locker room before what Kinard had said clicked in his brain, and he immediately did a 180, making a beeline to the rings set up on the far side of the gym, easily spotting the pair when he knew what to look for.

It was no wonder that neither he nor Chris had recognized Buck when they walked in—he was literally drenched in sweat, his usually fluffy blonde hair dark and slicked to his forehead, scowling around his mouth guard as he danced around Boscoe.

Boscoe, who Eddie had never seen so worked up. Damn, she really hadn’t even had to try during his matches. Wasn’t that a blow to the ego.

No, Buck definitely wasn’t a boxer, because this was a dance. Every move he made, he made with his entire body, his energy flowing through each form, moving easily and gracefully in a way that shouldn’t have been possible with such an incredible amount of force and flat out violence. He almost felt dazed as he followed Buck’s movements, but in the best possible way, his eyes snapping back and forth as he tried to trace where one hit ended and the next began.

“Wow.”

Eddie was glad that Chris said it, because he still couldn’t find the muscles needed to pick his jaw up off the floor. He didn’t know if Chris had followed him over to the ring or if his Buck-radar was just that good, but for the time being, Eddie was more than thankful for the minute distraction as he ruffled his kids hair again.

Boscue was moving more desperately as the match continued, launching into a series of quick jabs, but even Eddie could see where that was her downfall. Buck knocked her arm back with her last punch and sent a kick straight for her shoulder, but then he twisted his entire body off of the mat and his other leg was in the air too, and Eddie instinctively sucked in a breath as Buck locked her neck between his thighs. They both came crashing down to the mat, struggling impressively until Boscoe slapped Buck’s thigh twice, and then—

—and then Buck was all smiles again, beaming as he released her and took a knee on the ring, helping her back into a sitting position, spitting out his mouth guard with an excited moment of praise for her technique.

Eddie could not compute. This was his downfall. Eddie is dead, long live Eddie.

“Holy cow, Buck! That was amazing! You’re like... you’re like a ninja crime fighting super hero!”

Well, that was one way to put it.

Buck’s head whipped around at Chris’ excited outburst, lighting up when he spotted Eddie and Chris near the bench, eagerly scooting forward into a sitting position closer to the ropes.

“Thanks, little man! That was some mixed martial arts, it’s super fun. I’ve been teaching Lena for a few years, she’s getting pretty good!”

Buck’s grin slid into something a little more proud and pleased as he looked to Eddie, and Eddie felt every muscle in his body tighten as Buck’s gaze burned through him.

“What did you think of that leg lock, Eddie? Total knock out, right?”

Oh fuck, was Buck flirting with him now? That had to have been flirty, right? Come on, Brain, do something.

“... legs.”

“...my legs?”

“Buck, your... your legs.”

Buck’s smile looked a little more pinched as Eddie groaned, shaking his head. “Okay, I, I’m sorry, but I have to ask you this or I will completely die. Can I take you out to dinner sometime? I know a great place off the strip, you’ll love it, my treat.”

The look on Buck’s face was skeptical, at best, but at least he wasn’t shutting him down, giving Eddie the benefit of the doubt (and giving him a moment to get his brain back online). “Because of my legs?”

“No. Well, okay, you have amazing legs. And arms, though, and like... a stupidly handsome face, and I would be blind not to notice those things—” shit, Eddie probably sounded like such a shallow asshole right now. “—but I’m asking because you’re really smart. And you’re kind, so kind to Chris too, and you’re patient, and... Buck, you’re really really sweet. And I would love to take you out for a dinner date the moment you can look past my apparent inability to form a single coherent thought.”

After a moment that felt much longer than the three seconds it was, Buck sighed and leaned past Eddie, looking critically to Chris. He slid down to his stomach, squinting as he dropped down to eye level with the boy. “What do you think, Chris? Should I give your dad a shot?”

Well, at the very least, Buck was asking the one person that Eddie knew he always had in his corner; and sure enough, Chris delivered. “I think so. Dad really likes you.”

That’s his boy.

“Last week he spent my whole entire physical therapy appointment telling Dr. Wilson how much help you gave me and how nice you were and how much he appreciated it. It got kinda annoying.”

...well damn, Eddie wasn’t expecting to be called out by his own kid like that, but if the suddenly soft look Buck was giving him was any indication, it might have been the necessary push to get him to understand how serious Eddie was.

Eddie tried to keep his excitement tamped down when Buck nodded, sitting back up. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll make you a deal. Only because you managed to ask me out before I could ask you.”

Wait, Buck wanted to ask him out anyway?

“If you can land three hits on me in three minutes—should be easy after spending a weeks with Boscoe—then you can pick the time, the place, and I’ll even talk Lena in to letting you call her Lena. But if you don’t...” Buck reached through the ropes to help Eddie up, tossing him a wrap for his hands as he did. “... then I get to pick the time, the place, and you start training with me in MMA instead of going back to boring old boxing.”

Eddie blinked at him in abject horror as Buck dipped his voice low, seeing with terrible clarity exactly where Boscoe had learned her terrifying grin.

“That way you can see my leg choke up close and personal. Deal?”

The stakes were too high, and Eddie couldn’t say no.

He was screwed.

He was elated.

But fuck, he was screwed.

(Three minutes later, Buck asked if Eddie was free on Friday at seven, promised to pick somewhere nice, and gave him a searing kiss before he disappeared into the staff locker room. Eddie, on the other hand, needed a spatula to peel himself off of the floor of the ring.

He had never been so happy that he could barely move in his life.)

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dinosaurs-last-day · 4 years

Note

Hi!! It’s the one and only Remile Anon popping in again! Life’s kinda hitting a rough patch again right now, but i’ll most likely be fine. Anyways, I wanted to ask if you’d mind writing some fluffy Remile today. Hope you’re having a good day! <3

Hey Nonnie! Of course I’ll write some fluffy Remile for you.

How about a short high school au?

-----------------------------------------

Remy Sanders sat in art class, already having finished the assigned sketch project and sitting in silence. He was trying not to stare, but it’s hard when the guy sitting right in front of him was so damn attractive. Emile Pacani, the boy in front of him, was basically Remy’s dream boy. Emile was sweet and smart and really kind. And Remy was gay, really gay. He would have asked Emile out by now if he wasn’t so damn awkward around cute boys, and if he actually knew if Emile liked guys.

Emile didn’t even notice that Remy was staring, he was busy with his art project. Art wasn’t Emile’s strong suit, despite what everyone thought. Emile, with his love for cartoons and storytelling, could barely hold a pencil. Remy watched as Emile furiously erased what he had drawn. He decided that today would be the day he actually had a conversation with Emile, even if it was just to give him some drawing tips.

“If you draw the lines lighter, you won’t have to erase so hard,” Remy said, slipping into the empty seat next to Emile. Emile looked over at Remy before going back to his art.

“You’re probably right. I don’t have a clue what I’m doing.”

“Well, you’re not doing a terrible job, you just need to learn some tricks to make it better,” Remy said, grabbing his pencil and a sheet of paper. “Lemme show you.” He demonstrated a few things, different ways to hold the pencil and how to draw gently and erase so that the paper didn’t tear. Emile watched, eyes wide, soaking in every detail.

“You’re really good,” Emile said. Remy felt his face turn hot, his mouth suddenly unable to form coherent words. He reminded himself that it was just a compliment, that he needed to get over his crush for a minute.

“Um, thanks,” Remy finally said. Emile turned around and looked that Remy’s completed sketch. Remy suddenly became very aware of all the little mistakes he made on the drawing, but Emile didn’t seem to notice a single one of them.

“I think you’re the best artist in the class! I wish I could draw like that.”

“Well, practice makes perfect and all that.” The words fell awkwardly off Remy’s lips. His face was still a bright shade of red and he wished that he could hide in his leather jacket.

“You’re right, I need more practice!” Emile laughed. “I don’t want to make you feel obligated, so totally tell me if I crossed a line, but do you think you could teach me some more? Like, after school?”

Hanging out with Emile after school was Remy’s dream, but he wasn’t about to admit it.

“I’m sorry, that was a dumb thing to ask,” Emile apologized. Remy practically jumped out of his seat at the fear of losing his chance to spend more time with Emile.

“No! I mean, of course I would like to teach you some stuff. Maybe you could come over to my place and I let you use some of my art supplies or something?” Emile’s face brightened as he agreed.

“Oh, I don’t think I caught your name,” Emile said as the bell rang, signaling the end of class.

“Um, it’s Remy.”

“Well, thank you then Remy!”

Remy waited impatiently for Emile to arrive. He had given Emile his phone number and address right after art class and was anxiously pacing his families shed, which had been redesigned to serve as an art studio for Remy.

Finally, he saw the other boy walking up the driveway and he practically ran over to greet him.

“Hey! Thanks for doing this, it means a lot,” Emile said, following Remy to the shed.

“It’s no problem. I can’t promise that I’ll make a good teacher, but I can try.” Remy opened the shed door and motioned for Emile to walk inside. When Emile got in, his jaw dropped a couple of inches as he took in the sight.

Remy had been allowed to paint the walls, and he had chosen to use chalk paint so that he could constantly doodle on them. There was one wall not painted with the chalk paint, and on it hung a bunch of Remy’s favorite art projects, the ones he was most proud of. Over the sketching desk hung a pride flag, and there were shelves full of paint and other art supplies. Emile looked around for a long minute, his eyes finally resting on the pride flag.

“You’re gay?” Emile asked. Remy’s brain suddenly started to panic. What if Emile was homophobic? Leave it to Remy to fall in love with that guy. He mumbled a yeah and was surprised to see Emile practically jump in excitement.

“I’m gay too! What are the odds? This is so cool!” Remy let out a silent sigh of relief, allowing himself to relax.

“So, what did you want me to teach you?” Remy asked. Emile thought for a moment.

“Maybe we can work on a simple painting project? I think that might be easy.”

Remy laughed. “Painting isn’t as easy as people lead you to believe but sure! That sounds like fun!” He got out two easels and his favorite acrylics, setting everything up for Emile and answering any of Emile’s questions as he went along.

Painting with Emile Pacani was probably the most fun Remy had ever had in a long time. The two laughed and joked, swapping different colors every once and a while. Remy had suggested that they started with something easy and Emile said that painting a butterfly sounded easy, so there they were, two butterflies on canvas. Finally, after they both had decided that they were finished, they stepped back to admire their work.

“Your butterfly is actually really good,” Remy noted. “You have an amazing eye for colors, it looks beautiful.”

“My butterfly looks like a sad little moth compared to yours,” Emile said, earning a laugh from Remy.

“Hey, don’t hate on moths. Mothman is my one true love,” Remy joked. As Remy cleaned up some of the paints, out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Emile go over to the desk and stare up at the pride flag.

“You okay?” Remy asked, putting the easels back in their place in the corner of the shed.

“I’m fine, just thinking.” Emile turned to face Remy. Remy noticed that a bit of paint had managed to find a home on Emile’s face.

“You have some paint on your cheek,” Remy said, fighting the urge to reach up and wipe it away. Emile rubbed his cheek. “No, the other cheek.”

“Could you wipe it off for me? I don’t want to miss it,” Emile said. Remy nodded and ran a towel over the paint. He was acutely aware of how close he was standing to Emile. He ran the towel over the cheek a second time, just in case he had missed some paint the first time, totally not because he didn’t want to move.

Even though he was less than a foot away from Emile, he could barely make out what Emile was saying. Emile was barely speaking, just breathing out the words. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

Neither one of them remember who initiated the kiss, just that they kissed, and it felt like magic. Remy held Emile’s face, he could feel Emile snake his arm around Remy’s waist and pull him closer. They stood there, kissing desperately, for what felt like the longest minute ever. When they broke away, Remy tried to pout from the lack of lips against his, but he couldn’t because he was too busy smiling like an idiot.

“Remy, you’re very attractive,” Emile whispered, more audible this time but now his voice sounded slightly hoarse, probably from all the kissing.

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a while now,” Remy admitted.

Emile’s lips quirked into a mischievous smile as he pulled Remy close once again and they kissed, another long and breathless kiss. Remy felt like he had forgotten how to think, and that was fine.

Finally, Emile let go of Remy, stepping back. Remy’s lips were slightly swollen, his hair messed up. Emile’s glasses hung crooked on his face.

“I have to get going, I promised my mother I’d be home in time for dinner. Maybe tomorrow I can come back and you can teach me something new?” Emile asked, grabbing his stuff. Remy smiled.

“I’d love that.”

#i hope this works!#remile anon #anon #anonymous #thanks for the ask #remile #remy sanders #ts remy #remy sleep #ts emile #Emile Pacani #remy x emile #emile x remy #my writing #remy writes #who let me become a writer?#ask

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ikevampeventarchive · 4 years

Text

[ERS] Shyness Melts Into A Cocktail ～ Theodorus

Duration: 11/22 (Fri) 04:00 PM ～ 11/29 (Fri) 09:00 PM

On the way home from a party at the art gallery, Theo follows you with sweet words. However, the shock of his memory loss the next morning prompts you to leave him cold in bed...?

At that time, what happens after Theo invites you out is ——

Route Preview

[This is an unofficial work based on fan-translation. Copyright belongs to Cybird.]

Common Route

The route starts with Theo and MC at an afterparty of a successful exhibition. Theo is talking to a Marquis, the sponsor of the exhibition, who was praising Theo on a job well done. He brings Theo around the party, introducing Theo to his various friends, business associates, and connections, with Theo graciously smiling throughout. MC stands a bit away watching the scene, and thinks to herself that the Marquis seems to be quite fond of Theo. She’s glad that he’s making so many connections and that his work will go even more smoothly now.

The Marquis and Theo have another drink, and MC notes that they’ve been drinking a lot in such a short amount of time. Every time they meet a new person, another toast is called. Once their drinks run out, it’s quickly replaced with another one. Seeing this, MC worries for Theo, wondering if she should bring him a glass of water. However, Theo glances over to her and gently smiles, flustering MC. MC reconsiders, and decides to continue watching from a distance since the conversation seems to be going well. And thus the night draws on.

Once the party concluded, Theo and MC get on a carriage prepared by the Marquis and head home. Theo asks MC if she’s tired, to which she says that she’s fine, and Theo was the one who worked hard. They continue to converse about the Marquis’ help with networking, and MC eventually says that seeing Theo continuing to strive for his goals was extremely impressive, and that she too will work hard to help him.

Theodorus: What are you talking about? Aren't you already supporting me?

MC: ….What?

Theodorus: This past exhibition wouldn’t be what it was without your help.

MC: What??

Theodorus: I had already expected that in the first place, anyways. Are you surprised? I have never once had a single doubt about your work ethic.

Theodorus: I’ve always thought of you as my most trustworthy business partner. Seriously… you’ve done me a lot of good.

(TN: The phrase they’re using for help/support is 力になる, which has a very nice literal meaning of “becoming your strength.” But, it doesn’t sound quite natural in ENG, thus the replacement.)

Theo continues to ramble on, heaping various praises on MC as she continues to get more and more embarrassed. Then, he suddenly stops speaking and stares at her instead. Almost dreading his next words, MC asks him if something’s wrong.

Theodorus: …. You’re cute.

MC: What!?

As MC is too shocked to respond, Theo starts petting her head, playfully ruffling her hair. MC feels happy, but the irony of Theo petting her like King isn’t lost on her. Theo then changes his earlier statement, saying that MC being cute is a given, and starts kissing her. When they part, Theo presses up against MC, saying that he’ll both tease and pamper her thoroughly tonight.

—

When they arrive at Theo's room, they stumble to the bed without even turning on the lights, with Theo pushing MC down on the bed and slipping a hand under her blouse. MC thinks to herself that Theo is being much rougher than usual, as if something in his normal behavior had been stripped away and bared before her.

Theodorus: MC… I like you. I love you….

He’s more aggressive than usual, but… Theo’s words and endearments are also much sweeter than usual.

Again and again, they lose themselves in the sweet, yet inescapable heat building between their bodies.

Morning comes, and MC is the first to wake up. Looking down at Theo’s sleeping face, she remembers their activities last night and flush, thinking to herself that even though it’s embarrassing, it’s nice to know that Theo desired her so passionately. As MC is lost in her thoughts, Theo wakes up, squinting against the sun. MC is struck with a surge of affection upon seeing his cute reaction and wonders if it’s ok to give him a good morning kiss. However, before she can come to a decision, Theo speaks instead.

Theodorus: MC… when did you get here?

Theo comments that if MC is here already, then she must’ve gotten up early, before throwing an arm around her and pulling her close. MC quickly questions him and realizes that Theo only remembers the party and nothing afterwards. Thinking back to the way he praised her and the night they spent together, saying that MC was shocked was an understatement.

Unaware of the thoughts running through MC’s head, Theo teases her, asking if she had come to his room with only a shirt draped over her shoulders to seduce him. He starts running his hands along her body, pressing kisses against her nape. Theo says the same lines he did last night to instigate things with MC, which just reminds her all over again of his lack of memories and MC stops him. Theo freezes — confused — and MC gets out of bed, gathering her clothes and leaving after calling him an idiot.

In her room, MC sulks. She knows that she should apologize to Theo, but right now, it doesn’t feel right. After all, it’s because she was so happy that she’s upset right now. Eventually, it was time to start work, and MC was cleaning the hallways when footsteps sounded behind her.

MC turns around, expecting Theo. However, it was Vincent, who sheepishly grins at the mistake. He tells MC that Theo left for work, and should be back by nightfall. MC ends up asking Vincent if Theo had ever been drunk enough to lose his memories, to which Vincent replied negatively. Dejected, MC excuses herself and leaves to clean the staircase.

At sunset, MC sits in the gazebo and watches the sunset, lost in thought. Sebastian had let her off early, saying that there was no work left to be done. Of course, there was never an end to the work, but MC had probably let her low spirits show through and he noticed. MC laments the misunderstanding between her and Theo, and wishes to see him.

Just as the thought crosses her mind, a voice calls out to her. It was Theo — the exact person she wanted to see most right now. MC starts to ask what he was doing here, since it was not yet time for him to return, when he grabs her hand.

Theodorus: — Come with me.

—

Sweet End

Alone with him, get drunk on a sweet night in each and every way―

“ — Prepare yourself. I have no intention of forgetting the sight of your pleasure.”

—

Theo leads MC to a bar, where he quickly seats them and orders — of course, alcohol. MC is worried about the turn of events, and orders juice for herself. As Theo quickly down his first drink, MC contemplates whether she should stop him or not, since she doesn’t want a repeat of last night. Theo orders another drink without delay, and MC finally bursts, telling him to wait. He refuses, saying that if MC wants him to stop, then she should do it herself.

Theodorus: … Are you sure it’s fine to stay quiet? I might just eat you up like I did last night.

MC startles and asks if Theo had recovered his memories, only to be met with a bitter smile. Theo reveals first that the drinks are non-alcoholic, and second, that he didn’t remember anything, but it wasn’t difficult to guess that something had happened from how MC reacted this morning. When Theo returned from his work, he ran into Vincent while searching for MC, and Vincent told Theo about what MC asked him this morning.

MC: Say, Vincent…. Has Theo ever been so drunk that he’d lost his memories before?

Vincent: Huh? No….

Hearing this, Theo was certain that he’d done something to MC while drunk, and it’s revealed that he set up this entire outing to bring a reaction out of MC, since rather than blame him, she would only think of apologizing for her own actions. Then, Theo himself apologizes to MC. MC ends up forgiving him, saying that she’s happy to be spending time with him like this, and also apologizes for her behavior this morning. It’s then revealed that Theo had rushed through his work, came home, then found MC, and once again headed out to town.

They reconcile the bad feelings and misunderstanding between them, and MC laughs upon thinking about how Theo forgot the sappy words he said last night. Theo grills her on it, and he tells her to be prepared for tonight, since he doesn’t plan on forgetting her face in the throes of pleasure this time.

—

Premium End

As heat pierces through watery eyes, your heart beats faster ――

“I’ll just have to make sure every nook and cranny of this undisciplined hondje is thoroughly educated.”

—

Theo leads MC to his bedroom, where he requests that she have a drink with him. Remembering what happened last night, MC declines. Theo takes this in stride, and asks MC to just sit with him while he drinks, before picking up a glass. MC tries to take the glass away from him, again remembering how he lost his memory and they weren’t able to have a proper conversation, but fails as Theo moves the glass away. He downs the drink in one go, and reveals that it was just juice.

MC: Juice… ?

Theodorus: Yeah, that’s it.

MC: …. Why would you do something like that?

Theodorus: To verify something.

MC: Verify, what would you...?

Theodorus: What I did to you last night; everything.

Theodorus: From the way you acted this morning, it wasn’t hard to guess that something had happened. And besides… I started remembering as the day went on. The things that I said to you while drunk… and the things I did.

MC: Ah, you remembered….

Theodorus: Yeah. Even so, seeing your reaction from earlier solidified my re-emerging memories as undeniable truth. The things I did to you, everything, they are neither fantasies or dreams.

Theodorus: … For that, and for dragging you here, and for setting you up, I’m sorry.

Finishing his apology, Theo bows his head. Moved by both his efforts and her own desire to have a proper conversation with him, MC pats Theo’s head, asking if he had come home early for this. Theo confirms, saying that it was worth rushing things, though everything had been accomplished perfectly. MC thinks that this type of thinking is very characteristic of Theo, and thanks him for his efforts.

Theo catches the hand that was petting his hair, and tells MC that even though he was drunk, the words he said to her were all his true feelings. MC then tells her side of the story, saying that she felt disappointed when Theo remembered the party and his work clearly, but then forgot everything related to her, and apologizes for the way she acted this morning. Theo says that she has nothing to say sorry for but then clarifies that the reason why he drank so much at the party was that everyone he met all praised MC. It put him in a great mood and lowered his guard, leading him to drink more than he would.

When it finally clicks for MC, all the gentle gazes at the party and his words, she starts getting very flustered, and Theo admonishes her for letting it show so clearly on her face. However he soon qualifies the statement and says that it’s his exclusive right to see her like this anyways, just like how MC is the only one who has ever seen him like he was last night. MC tells Theo that she really does love him, and he pushes over onto the bed, kissing her deeply. He praises her once again, saying that she’s always so adorable, and they tell each other words of love. However, he starts teasing MC again soon after.

Theodorus: To think that a hondje like you would try and bite your master’s hand.

MC: That — I apologized already!

Theodorus: Apology or not, the truth of it happening is a problem, no?

He then kisses MC again, running his hands down her body. Theo tells MC that he remembers last night now, and he’ll pleasure her even more than before. And with that, they spend another night together.

Note: This is where the paid epilogue starts.

—

Epilogue Preview

When he gazes at you with such heated eyes, even your embarrassment melts away ——

Baring my skin in a flash, Theo teases my nipples with his lips.

MC: Ah.... St —

Theo: I don’t really think anyone who truly hates this would have such a reaction.

While his hand lifts my thigh, his tongue tongue starts moving there. Exposing my wet core to the air, the chill makes goosebumps rise up on my skin.

MC: Stop... if you go any further, I won’t....

Hands laden with intent trace my hips, slipping in between....

The fingers penetrating deep within me draw out wet sounds that seem to fill my ears.

MC: ....

Theodorus: .... Ha.... What’s wrong, MC. Is it so good that you can’t even cry out anymore?

—

Jean Route | Mozart Route | Event Info

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp spoilers #theodorus #ers #shyness melts into a cocktail #jp ikevamp #november 2019

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flouncingwiz-sevsnape · 4 years

Text

Play Nice

Request: Can I request a Professor Snape x a new professor (24-25yrs old) who used to be a student at Hogwarts. Can their relationship build up slow at first then get as smutty has you would like to make it. Can she also be written as a sweet person who is always nice to everyone and students. Also sorry I know this is a lot can she have always had eyes for Snape even as a student and can you make it to where he thinks she is beautiful the first time he sees her again since she has grown up. Thank you!!

A/N: First of all, I’m sorry this took so long to publish. I’ve been pretty busy and I was lacking motivation. I’m not really sure how I feel about this one, so I apologise if it’s not as good as the others, but I still hope you all enjoy it!

Severus x Reader

Warnings: fluff

Walking into the Great Hall as a professor felt so weird and as you took your place at the staff table you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. ‘Oh my gosh this is NOT happening!’ you thought giddily to yourself. As you watched the students filing in, you waved cheerfully at them, even though you didn’t know a single person. It was your first year on the job and returning to Hogwarts after your time away was such a great feeling. You thought back to your days as a student… You remembered a few of your classes and jokes you played with your friends, but the biggest thing that stuck out to you from your recollections was the massive crush you’d had on Professor Snape. ‘Well, I guess I can call him Severus now,’ you smirked to yourself. As you thought of the mysteriously attractive Potions Master, you scanned the staff table, wondering if he was still here. Sure enough, at the opposite end, Severus sat sulking next to a very chatty looking Rubeus Hagrid. ‘So the first years must be here,’ you turned your head as Minerva walked in carrying the Sorting Hat, a parade of timid kids behind her. The sorting proceeded and then everyone tucked into the magnificent welcome feast. You were so happy to be back and you chatted to Filius and Sybil who were on your right and left. Tomorrow term started and you were going to teach your first Defence Against the Dark Arts class. ‘I hope that I’m good enough,’ you thought excitedly as the feast came to a close and you headed down the corridors to your room.

Up ahead, you could make out the dark shape of Severus flouncing down the hall. You grinned to yourself and called his name. Now that you were his colleague, you were going to take advantage of it.

‘Severus!’

He whipped around to face you, black cloak flowing angrily behind him. ‘Yes?’ he replied slowly. As you approached him, he narrowed his eyes. ‘Who are you?... Y/l/n?’

Your stomach did a somersault. He recognised you, that was already a big win. Still grinning you stepped closer to him than you would anybody else. ‘That’s Y/n now, Severus. Don’t you know, I’m the new DADA professor.’ He scoffed and rolled his eyes.

‘Well… I wish you… the best of luck, Y/n.’

You inclined your head before placing a hand flirtily on his arm and replying. ‘Thank you, you’re such a sweetheart.’ He straightened at your touch and glared down at your hand. You ignored him and continued in an overly sweet voice. ‘As I am new here, I’ll be needing somebody to show me the ropes… perhaps you would be willing to?’ You tightened your grip on his arm and put a pleading look on your face, ‘please, Severus?’

His dark eyes searched your face, lip curled into a slight sneer as if showing you the ropes was the last thing he’d like to do. After a few moments of silence, though, he slumped his shoulders and gave an exasperated sigh. ‘All right. I suppose… I could.’

‘Oh that would be brilliant. Thank you!’ You leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before sauntering away. Snape stood sputtering angrily as you turned out of sight. You were giggling to yourself, satisfied with your flirting skills, as you pushed into your chambers.

Severus stood in the middle of the dark corridor completely taken aback for a few reasons. First of all, Y/n, whom he had last seen years ago as a student, was now completely gorgeous, much different than the smart, but normal student he had taught. Second of all, she had the audacity to not only ask him for help but then proceed to kiss him on the cheek. ‘Had she been… flirting with me?’ he asked himself. The possibility of something happening with you aroused him a bit, but Snap shook his head to himself. ‘No, she used to be your student. That would be inappropriate. She probably was just being friendly anyways…’ Clenching his jaw, Snape spun dramatically on his heel and stormed down to the dungeons to prepare for class the next day.

Your first month of teaching was a blur, but you felt more comfortable and at home than you’d ever felt before. The students seemed to like your class and you got along well with the rest of the staff. You frequently flirted with Severus whenever you had the chance, but he seemed extremely reluctant to reciprocate which frustrated you. It seemed as though he was interested in you, but he had a lot of restraint when it came to interacting with you. Still, you didn’t let that get in the way of your interactions with him.

As you walked down the hall, you heard Snape’s angry voice and you saw him scolding a small first year. Severus’ cloak was shredded and torn and on the floor there lay a fanged frisbee. You laughed to yourself, already deducing what had happened. The first-year’s eyes were brimming with tears and he looked absolutely terrified, so you decided to step in.

‘...I will personally see to it that Filch hangs you from your ankles and-’ Severus’ angry tirade was cut off by your entrance.

‘Hello Professor Snape,’ you gave him a curt nod before turning kindly to the little child, ‘and who are you?’

‘B-Benjamin,’ he stammered.

You knelt beside the boy and placed a soothing hand on his quivering shoulder. Whispering loudly you reassured the student. ‘You know, Benjamin, Professor Snape is a very grumpy man. I’m sure, before punishing you, he’ll realise that you were just having a bit of fun and meant no harm by having a fanged frisbee. I’m sure after that happens, Professor Snape will only take a few points from your house, apologise for being so harsh, and issue you a warning,’ you shot Severus a stern look, eyebrow raised. ‘Won’t he?’

Snape’s face was hardened and he was glaring at the kid, but when he caught your eye he sighed angrily. ‘Yes. He will,’ he spat, as if apologising to a student was the worst thing imaginable.

You stood and gave the boy a pat on the head before turning to Severus. ‘There now. Who says Professor Snape can’t play nice?’ You winked at Severus, brushed a strand of his hair out of his face, and sauntered off, leaving him giving a begrudging apology to the much relieved student. Grinning to yourself, you headed to your next class.

A few days later, you were in your classroom helping a few students correct their papers, when Severus walked in; well, more accurately, he stormed in with his black cloak billowing dramatically. Pointing at a line in the textbook that lay open on the table you instructed the students. ‘Right then, copy this line down while I see what Professor Snape wants.’ The students shot nervous glances at the angry looking Potions Master before hurriedly scratching the sentence on their parchment. As Severus approached, you stood up and put on a winning smile.

‘Severus! What a surprise,’ you briefly touched his arm, ‘to what do I owe the pleasure?’

His dark eyes flashed to your hand and he withdrew his arm. You laughed and raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. ‘I thought it prudent to discuss a certain matter with you,’ he paused and his gaze flickered to the students working on their essays, ‘but I think it’s better discussed in… private.’ For some reason that statement sent goosebumps down your spine and you shivered. There was a certain tone in his voice that you couldn’t quite place. His face was impassive, almost bored looking, and yet his eyes hinted at some sort of emotion. Not wanting to succumb to any sentiment too soon, you nodded and laughed.

‘Whatever you say, Severus.’ You touched his robes casually and shot him a smirk. ‘I see you’ve repaired these since the frisbee incident.’

‘Yes,’ his penetrating eyes glittered dangerously.

‘Why are you so harsh on the students, Severus?’ You asked in a singsong voice as you strolled back to your desk. The students paused their writing and watched Snape cautiously. Clearly, they wanted to know too.

Severus scoffed and followed you, leaning against the desk lazily. You looked at him expectantly and he opened his mouth to speak, but paused, lips quivering angrily. You noticed his hesitation and raised an eyebrow at him, smiling.

‘You know, the students actually like professors who are nice to them.’ You stepped closer to him and leaned in until your lips were next to his ear, ‘and I have a hunch that you know how to play nice… Severus.’ You saw your words have their desired effect as Snape shivered slightly, before straightening. His eyes were dancing maliciously, but he didn’t say anything. Severus turned and stormed out of the classroom and your eyes followed his body, satisfied. Smiling, you turned to the students and continued to help him, occasionally laughing with them about Professor Snape’s excessive dramatics.

Severus stormed out of the classroom, goosebumps still trailing up and down his arms. He realised now that, without a doubt, Y/n had been flirting with him since day one. Snape smirked as he thought back to how she always was sure to show off in front of him. Whenever she caught him scolding a student she sauntered in and saved the insolent kid from extreme punishment. It was annoying, but he had to admit to himself, he admired her. Severus’ heart sped up as he thought back to how gorgeous Y/n looked today, especially when she was flirting with him. When that happened, her eyes sparkled and her smiles lit up the room. The more Snape thought about her, the more he knew that he couldn’t resist any longer. The term was a little over halfway done and he couldn’t convince himself that it wasn’t appropriate any longer. Obviously Y/n wanted him and, if Severus was being honest with himself, he wanted her too.

Over the course of the next few weeks, you noticed a considerable change in Severus. Although, it wasn’t until one snowy, cold Saturday that you really realised he had changed. You were walking to the staff lounge, ready to grab a biscuit or two since you’d missed breakfast, when you bumped into Snape. Your flirting had become progressively more obvious and contained many innuendos, but you couldn’t help it. You’ve had eyes for this man since your years as a student, and since you were a teacher, you wanted to make the most of it.

‘Afternoon Severus,’ you said with a smile, straightening your robes.

His dark eyes flicked briefly up and down your body before he spoke, ‘Y/n.’ You locked eyes with him and for a moment both of you were silent. You realised you and Severus were still standing awfully close to each other and your cheeks heated up as you thought some rather dirty thoughts. Eventually, Snape stepped back and cleared his throat, dragging you back into reality. ‘Nasty weather we’re having…’ he tried at some normal conversation.

Seizing this opportunity, you replied, ‘oh yes, terrible. All this cold snow just makes me want to stay in bed all day.’ You shot him a seductive look.

To your surprise, he flirted right back. ‘Indeed. But I find that more physical activities do well to keep out the cold,’ he paused and smirked, ‘don’t you agree?’

You bit your lip and looked him straight in the eyes. ‘Oh yes, Severus,’ you dropped your voice to a whisper and leaned close, ‘I think that partner activities, especially, are effective.’

His breathing was heavy and his eyelids fluttered as if he were picturing something particularly satisfying. You exhaled, hoping that he was thinking of the same thing you were. The moment felt right, so you decided to press your luck a bit further.

‘Severus?’ His eyes refocused on you, a curious glint in them. ‘I wish you would play nice with me.’ You brushed past him into the common room, smirking.

Snape sighed to himself, suddenly aware of the small arousal the conversation had given him. He glanced down at his trousers where a little tent had formed. ‘Oh bloody hell.’ Severus exhaled, flicked his hair angrily out of his face, and began pacing back and forth. ‘What am I doing?’ he thought as he swept his cloak over his bulge and stormed after Y/n to the staff lounge. He glanced around until he locked eyes on her, talking jovially to Filius. Her eyes were sparkling and her smile sent a jolt through Severus’ stomach. He felt another part of himself stiffen in response to how gorgeous Y/n was. Snape knew what he wanted to do and he knew that it was wrong, but at this moment, he had no resolve.

‘Y/n,’ he called out to her, ‘can I get your advice on something?’ She looked up at him, a mischievous smirk on her face.

‘Oh certainly, Severus. Excuse me, Filius’ She apologised and gave Snape a small wink as she headed towards him. Severus spun on his heel and walked down the corridor a bit, Y/n following behind.

You followed Severus out of the staff room and down the hall a bit. He was leaning against the wall, dark eyes twinkling. When you drew near he grabbed your arm and pulled you close to him, your breath caught in your throat.a

‘What do you need, Severus?’ You looked at Snape’s tented pants and brushed her hand over them briefly, Your voice was a whisper and it was laced with lust. At your touch, Severus groaned slightly and shifted his hips.

Despite the thoughts move you had just made, Snape responded calmly and slowly. ‘I… want… you.’ His eyes sparkled with passion and his breath was hot against your neck. As he spoke, your stomach somersaulted and a soft beating began between your legs. A sense of frantic wanting swept over you and you grabbed his hand and pulled him to your room without a word. You had fantasised about this moment for ages and as you brought Severus to your bed and pressed your lips to his, your movements became hasty and urgent. The throbbing between your legs had intensified and the only thing to remedy it was Severus. You fell onto the bed with him on top of you, breath hot and frantic, and before you knew it, Severus and you were in the throws. And it turns out, Severus could play nice after all…

#severus snape #severus snape fanfiction #severus x reader #snape #snape fanfiction #snape fluff #snape imagine #hp fanfic #halfblood prince

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winke77e · 3 years

Text

Personal Growth Diary:

I've shared before about trouble I had growing up as a child and a teen, but there has always been something else bothering me. Something I was lacking in. Something that, if I could just fix, would magically solve all my problems.

So I always looked up to my Dad because he seemed the most "put-together" adult in my life.

When I had problems, I went to my dad. Questions? Dad. Need motivation? Dad.

But no matter how often I spoke with him, I never seemed to solve that Something that bothered me.

Then I stumbled upon this Ted Talk about the Stories told of your life; either from yourself or others. It took a bit more evaluating but I eventually realized I was fighting against my Dad's story of me.

My dad is probably one of the most stereotypical "standard, white guy" you could imagine. Religious, tall, business man, confident, social, active, etc.

But I describe him as "the type of man with no desire to fight society" because his life has always been dictated to him "grow up, get married, have kids, become a boss or own your own business, stay in church, be the 'bread-winner'" basically every stereotypical expectation for a white man from the 70s, 80s

He has a good life, but doesn't know how to handle hardship/stress. He is a loving husband, but doesn't support his wife or kids when in an argument. He is very active socially and physically, but calls anyone who does less than him "lazy".

And that was His story of me: lazy. Lazy, unmotivated, "you don't try hard enough", "you don't do enough", "you can't do this", "girls don't do that", "you've failed at this before", and so on for so long

I had internalized his story of me even though he never really saw my daily life, struggles, hardships, nothing. He doesn't 'believe' in depression or ADHD, so it comes down to me simply not trying hard enough. He's only seen me change jobs often and thus believes that I don't work hard enough or good enough. He's seen me struggle with running track or sprinting and thus laughed at me when I told him i was joining the Army, because I wasn't physically fit.

BUT! After listening to that Talk and thinking on it, I realized how Amazing I really am. I've known how truly capable I was for a while, but it was never framed against my Dad's story of me as lazy. I've always seen my achievements against manipulative work conditions or abusive societies, never against a parent's version of me.

Excuse me; "I don't work hard"?? Uh, I get 8 hours worth of work done in 5.5hrs, thank you. In the Military, I administered an IV under simulated combat conditions in less than 10 seconds. I have won art competitions across this Nation, I have surpassed my bosses expectations on projects, I have taken care of teams, and taken on stressful situations to protect others. Don't tell me how hard you think I can work.

You call me "lazy"??? Under what conditions?? Exercise? No, I hate running, but you know what? Give me 200 pounds of gear and a map and I'll hike 12 miles in a day. At work? Please, it's already done, you just came by to give me the work and then 'checked' on me an hour later. Personal scheduling? No I will not overwork myself to meet your constantly moving standards that mean nothing to me.

I'm sorry Dad. I love you, but I've learned you're not good for me. Your idea of me, is wrong, and I need time and distance to write my own story fully.

#wink speak #wink rant #personal #growth #mental health #expectations #diary #work #self-love #self worth

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elyvorg · 4 years

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“Well, they’re more like a mom and dad who have a... hands-off approach to parenting.”

“That sounds... awkward. I don’t know if that’s better or worse than never knowing your parents at all.”

“Yeah... me neither. I’m lucky to have my uncle, at least.”

“...Hey, Kaito? You’ve been quiet for a while. Is something wrong?”

“Hm? Oh, nah, it’s nothing. Just spaced out for a bit, that’s all. My bad.”

“You know, Kaito... you live with your grandparents, right? And you never talk about your parents. It... it might not be any of my business, but I couldn’t help but wonder... are you... like me? Or... perhaps a bit like Maki, and you don’t even remember them?”

“Huh? N-No, it’s... neither of those.”

“I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. You don’t have to—”

“Hey, it’s fine. I... I guess I don’t mind telling you guys. They... my parents died in a car crash when I was ten.”

---

@trainingtrioweek Day 5: Family

Instead of an art today, some rambly thoughts that this prompt gave me the perfect excuse to bring up. (If you’re finding my blog through this event: as well as arts, I also do quite a bit of meta and not-quite-meta rambling such as this kind of thing on here, usually still about the training trio!)

It’s only especially relevant in non-fiction AUs such as UTDP where everyone’s families are actually real, but – can we talk about the fact that all three of the training trio, in very different ways, are lacking in parents with both the qualities of being alive and being decent parents?

Shuichi

Shuichi’s parent issues are only mentioned briefly in one of his FTEs and don’t get nearly as much focus as his detective-related issues caused by that one case that traumatised him. But it’s possible that they could actually explain quite a bit about him.

It seems to be only in fairly recent years that Shuichi’s parents moved to work overseas and he was sent to live with his detective uncle. However, his bitter comment about his parents’ “hands-off approach to parenting” (that part of the line I wrote here was taken directly from his canon FTE) implies that they weren’t particularly there for him even when they were his primary caregivers.

He also mentions in this FTE that he became an apprentice to his uncle “as thanks for looking after me”. Which, like… that shouldn’t be necessary? Having someone take care of you is a basic human right for a child. But apparently, being properly looked after is not something Shuichi takes for granted, to the point that he feels like he needs to repay the person who does it for him. Ouch. Poor Shuichi.

Thinking on this, it feels like Shuichi’s distant parents could be a big part of why he grew up so anxious and insecure, and why he instinctively seeks out people he can depend on wholeheartedly and latches onto them when he finds them, like he did with Kaede and Kaito. And most likely with his uncle too, for that matter.

I can definitely imagine Shuichi managing to pick up on the clues about Kaito that suggest things aren’t great regarding his parents, and quietly wondering if they’re the same – maybe even sort of hoping they are, so that he’d have someone who really understands. And, well, turns out they aren’t quite the same after all, but nonetheless, knowing that Kaito’s gone through something similar and can relate on some level would still help Shuichi feel less alone with this.

Kaito

Meanwhile, what happened with Kaito’s parents probably also played a bit of a role in shaping him into the person he is, but in more of a positive way.

I’ve seen some people assume that the deal with Kaito’s parents is that they’re shitty parents kind of like Shuichi’s are, and that this is why Kaito talks himself up to be so super awesome all the time, out of a desperate need for the validation that he never got from his own home. But I don’t think that fits. While the stress of the killing game and his illness begin to really get to him and gradually break down his self-worth, it absolutely reads to me like Kaito’s confidence in himself at the beginning of the game was completely genuine. I don’t believe – at the start – that he needed validation from anyone else to know that he was the awesome person he said he was.

So, I believe Kaito’s parents must have been great and supportive parents. They’d need to have been, for Kaito to be able to grow up with so much real confidence, so unashamed of being bombastically himself all the time even if everyone else thinks he’s a ridiculous idiot. But then, if those lovely parents had died all of a sudden when Kaito was young (young-ish, but old enough to properly remember)… that would also have helped shape him into the Kaito we know, in that it’d make him even more determined to live his life to the fullest and not waste a moment of it.

[There’s more than just these general unsubstantiated feelings about Kaito’s overall character that make me sure his parents died, though – there’s also a few canon lines that I believe are deliberately subtly hinting at it. If you want to see which lines and what I think about them, I’ve compiled them in a section at the end of this post.]

Of course, Kaito losing his parents would have been an incredibly difficult and painful experience at the time. But with his grandparents’ support and his own natural resilience and optimism, Kaito appears to have dealt with it as well as any kid losing their parents could be expected to. He’d be determined to use it to push him forward rather than let it hold him back, and it definitely seems like he succeeded.

(Even so, it’d still hurt sometimes. He still misses them, even if he mostly does a good job of not dwelling on it or letting it get him down.)

Unlike most of his other “weaknesses”, Kaito wouldn’t ever try to outright hide or lie about what happened to his parents. He’s come to terms with it by now, and he’s not and never was ashamed of it – every kid’s expected to grieve for their parents, after all – so I don’t think it’d quite set off his hero issues and make him afraid of letting his sidekicks down if they found out.

But still, I imagine Kaito wouldn’t bring it up unless specifically asked about it. No matter how much he tries to focus on the positives and assure people that he’s okay with it now, it… tends to make people feel sorry for him, and he doesn’t like that.

However, after being prompted to talk about it during this conversation with Shuichi and Maki about their parent situations, Kaito would come to realise that maybe that’s not such an issue with them. Maki and Shuichi each have their own painful lack-of-parents problems that they’ve had to get used to, so they’re not going to be unconsciously pitying Kaito for his. That’d make a refreshing change from most people.

Maki in particular must have known some kids at the orphanage who’d been in Kaito’s situation, in that they used to live with their parents and had to go through the grief of losing them. From this, she’s able to tell that, while it’s partly because he was lucky enough to still have his grandparents, Kaito really does seem to have dealt with losing his parents remarkably well. Kaito already knew that – his grandparents would have told him how proud they are of him for coping so well – but it’d help to know that someone from outside the situation thinks the same thing.

(He still wouldn’t quite bring up the moments where it still hurts and he finds himself missing his parents terribly, because that’s weakness, isn’t it? But at least, knowing that his sidekicks understand this kind of pain, albeit in a bit of a different way, would help it hurt just a little less whenever Kaito can’t help but feel like this. He wouldn’t tell them, but he’d be really glad to have that.)

Maki

Maki’s probably actually the least interesting one to talk about here, because she grew up in an orphanage where not having parents was normal and never felt like the odd one out, and she never even knew her parents to have any feelings about them in particular. It seems she had more just a general fantasy of what having parents would be like which she could share with the other kids there – she talks in one of her FTEs about how she and her best friend played House in the role of the parents and just had to make it up. Then, of course, Maki gained much worse things to be dealing with and shaping her into the person she is than a simple lack of parents.

Still, being at Hope’s Peak (or whatever other school they’re at together in this non-fiction AU) and suddenly being surrounded by other kids who constantly talk about their parents like it’s normal… it probably feels vaguely alienating for Maki, on top of every other reason she has to feel like she doesn’t belong.

But at least Shuichi and Kaito understand, in a way. They know what it feels like to hear the other kids casually talk about doing things with their parents while only being able to wish that were normal for them. Maki’s not so much of an outsider, not when she’s with these two.

And in that same way, Kaito and Shuichi would feel less alone in this regard when the trio are together. All three of them have learned to live with their situations and not complain, but it must be nice to have someone else – two someone elses – who know the kind of feeling they’re going through and can relate, even if it’s rather different for each of them.

They’d be able to bond over this – and not just as hero and sidekicks, but as equals, because this is something even Kaito isn’t completely okay about. They are friends.

(Or, maybe, they’re also like a found family? Shuichi and Kaito are certainly the closest thing to a family that Maki’s had in a long time.)

---

[appendix: why I’m sure Kaito’s parents died]

First off, there’s the possibility that Kaito’s grandparents are the subject of his motive video simply because he never knew his parents at all, a bit like Maki. But that can’t be the case, based on this line from his second FTE:

Kaito: “When I was a kid, I’d go to my gramps’ place to play sometimes…”

If he considered it his “gramps’ place” at the time and only went there sometimes, he wasn’t living with them back when he was that young. So apparently, his parents were still around at that time.

Which means that something else happened with Kaito’s parents to make his grandparents the most important people in his life. There are pretty much two possibilities for this: that Kaito’s parents died sometime after those stories he told in his FTEs, or that Kaito’s parents are just assholes and so he prefers his grandparents to them.

With regards to the possibility that his parents are assholes: aside from how I don’t think that fits because Kaito’s confidence is too genuine until the killing game beats it down, there’s also one line vaguely relevant to this topic that suggests they aren’t. In UTDP, in a scene where he’s being pestered by Kokichi:

Kaito: “You’re still like this at your age? Doesn’t it make your parents cry? Do you even visit?”

Kaito automatically assumes that Kokichi’s parents care about him, even though it could potentially begin to explain a few things about Kokichi if they didn’t. If Kaito’s own parents sucked, you’d think this’d make him likely to consider the possibility that Kokichi’s might do too. Instead, though, that option doesn’t cross his mind, so it seems like Kaito unconsciously sees parents being decent as the norm.

Meanwhile, there are a few subtle bits throughout the story that indicate Kaito might have some experience in dealing with grief prior to the killing game. At the end of trial 1, after suggesting Shuichi visit Kaede’s lab to help come to terms with her death, he says this:

Kaito: “Understand? There’s only one way to get through this awful feeling. No one’s gonna be able to console you if you’re just sitting here alone. If anyone’s gonna help you, it’ll be her… in your memories.”

This really reads to me like Kaito is speaking from experience – that he’s saying this because he found that something similar helped for him when he was going through a similar kind of pain.

Then there’s the part in trial 3 where he’s encouraging Himiko to face up to Tenko’s death:

Kaito: “Our only option is to face her death head-on!”

Himiko: “…Nyeh? Face her death?”

Kaito: “Himiko… I understand what you’re going through.”

It’s a little oddly specific of Kaito to say that he understands what Himiko’s going through when he hasn’t personally lost anyone he was especially close to in the killing game like she has. And Kaito is absolutely not the kind of person to lie or exaggerate about something this serious and personal to somebody else – this moment is about Himiko and her feelings, and Kaito knows that and wouldn’t try to artificially make things about himself. So this strongly suggests that Kaito does in fact have some idea of what Himiko is going through and is thinking about a loss he suffered outside of the killing game. Facing it head-on sounds like just the kind of thing Kaito would have tried to do for his own grief, doesn’t it?

Then, only a few lines later in that same conversation, Kaito says this:

Kaito: “Abandoning someone who died and only thinking about your own survival… That’s just as bad as a hit-and-run! I won’t forgive something so messed up!”

Which would be an extremely weirdly-specific thing to say in this situation… except that it makes perfect sense if you assume, based on his earlier lines, that Kaito was already thinking about how he felt when he lost his parents.

So, yeah. When I wrote that Kaito’s parents died specifically in a car crash, that wasn’t pulled out of nowhere either. I really believe that’s what the writers had in mind as the truth about Kaito and deliberately hinted at here.

(It does make sense that Kaito would have lost his parents to an accident like this rather than to something like illness. It’s statistically more likely that he was raised by both his parents, and if that’s the case, an accident is something that could take both of them from him at once where illness most likely wouldn’t. Plus, if he’d lost his parent(s) to illness, spending the days and weeks leading up to their death(s) knowing he was going to lose them, you’d think Kaito would have ended up better at psychologically dealing with his own deadly illness than he actually is.)

There’s also a few lines Kaito has here and there about making the most out of the time you’ve got:

Kaito: “If you’re not going to get yourself in gear now, then when!? Now’s all you’ve got!”

Kaito: “Life is short! I don’t have time to waste loafing around here.”

…which, granted, is a very Kaito-like sentiment in general. But it does suggest that he might have learned first-hand that life is short, like he could be thinking about how his parents’ time got cut off abruptly when he’s saying this kind of thing.

The only part of this idea I pulled somewhat out of thin air for this post was that the accident happened specifically when Kaito was ten, but I think something around that age range seems right. Based on the fact that it’s so relatively hard to spot the signs of this in Kaito’s behaviour, it feels like losing his parents wasn’t so recent that the wound is still raw, and also not so early on in his childhood that it would have left a huge, noticeable scar on his psyche. Kaito’s long since managed to come out on the other side and develop a healthy, positive way of dealing with grief that he can try to pass onto both Shuichi and Himiko during the game, such that doing so is the only real noticeable sign that he even went through anything painful himself at all.

#danganronpa v3 #danganronpa v3 spoilers #kaito momota #shuichi saihara #maki harukawa #training trio #friends #training trio week 2020 #ramble

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