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oopsimbug · 3 years

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in which... y/n is just trying to put on eyeliner and harry is bored pt. two

a/n: when she’s back from a six month hiatus after making only ONE fic. wow, do i suck. for anyone who cares, school has been pretty rough. i’m actually procrastinating studying for an exam to finally upload this. it’s been pretty hard to balance both school and writing but oh well. anywho, here it finally is. it took so long to write because i wasn’t feeling very inspired by this. a lot of people asked for a part two and even though i kinda wanted to leave it on a sad note, i am a sucker for giving the people what they want, so sorry if this is a bit shit- i definitely don’t like this one myself. i guess i’m not one for fluffy endings. well, at least for this one i wasn’t. i really hope you enjoy it! more stuff to come, if school doesn’t mind fucking off for a little while (or maybe just forever?) xox -(a) bug

pairing: best friend! harry styles x reader

summary: Harry is worried about Y/n. Y/n is worried about Harry. Harry is solving it by thinking of ways to check on her, while Y/n uses cheesy pasta and the Fresh Prince of Bel Air as an excuse to not think. But what will happen when someone is at her door, and it’s not her delivery man?

warnings: angst, swearing, y/n and harry being idiotos, fluffy end, kissing

word count: 5.3k

It had been a week.

One gruelling, painfully long week.

Harry was biting his nails, staring up at the ceiling as he laid in his bed, worrying about her.

About how he fucked up.

He didn’t think that she would be upset for this long. He thought she would scream at him and then text him the following day, wanting to hang out- a silent “I forgive you”, he supposed.

But after two days of radio silence on her end, he decided to call her. The only problem was that her last words to him were “leave”. She wanted space. She needed to think things through- what things? Harry had no clue. But he had to respect her and her choice to not want him around. So with that, he put down the phone.

But a small part of him (okay fine, a big part of him), wanted her to just show up at his house so they could cuddle again, talking about the stupidest of things while they made cupcakes in his kitchen. They would be listening to groovy music and now and then, they’d stop mixing bowls and sifting flour to dance- well, they were horrible dancers, so more so just wave their hands, hips and shoulders around. It would be fun and would always end up with them laughing at one another. He would lick the batter and she would berate him, telling him that “one of these days, you are going to get salmonella and I’ll just laugh at your stupid ass” and he would retort with something witty and a bit flirty like “don’t worry darling, we both know you would be right at my side if I got sick. I know you can’t stand being apart from me” with a wink and a cheeky smirk. He just wants to see her in her oversized Space Jam hoodie and little basketball shorts. Or her short flower shirt and his sweatpants that she has to cuff at the bottoms because they’re too long. Or even-

He’s gotta stop thinking about her, or his brain will soon explode. But he just can’t stop. He tries to think of the happier moments, like her showing him a tour of her very healthy houseplants that she prides herself in, but every time he closes his eyes, all he can see is her teary face telling him to leave. So no, if he was given the choice to think of her flailing her arms around in his kitchen to dancehall tunes while making sweet treats or crying at something that he provoked, you bet your ass he’d choose the former.

But after the seventh day, he knew that something wasn’t right. This was too much “thinking time”. For all he knew, she could be fine, but she could also be positively bawling. She could be living for this free time, but she also could be waiting for him to make the first move. She could be wanting Harry out of her life for her benefit forever, but she also could be feeling lonely and counting the seconds for their makeup, just like he was.

That was it. He had to go see her and make sure his best friend was okay.

He practised what he was going to say to her in his car on the way to her apartment. “Y/n, I’m so sorry for how I acted. I didn’t stop to think about how you were feeling and didn’t take your emotions into account which was unbelievably wrong of me. I’m truly sorry. It’s just that I really care about you and you’re my best friend and I can’t see you choose a tinder fuck over me and if I saw him in the street I would knock his lights out and I just want to kiss you, can I kiss you, oh god please let me kiss you I just want to-“

Fuck, what was wrong with him? Why was he so upset? He had been on plenty of dates with other celebrities and models and she was always on the sidelines, cheering him on. So why was he getting so touchy-feely about a single tinder date? Maybe he was just in desperate need of attention. He hadn’t had a girlfriend for almost one year and casual fuck arounds also stopped about four months ago, so maybe he just needed to fuck someone quick. That would explain why he sees his best friend’s kindness and natural flirty nature as something more romantic. Every laugh at his jokes, every look in her eyes, every graze of her hand on his thighs as she leans over him to get her drink on the side table next to him, he becomes more switched on and awake. She leaves him feeling giddy and excited at every conversation. “This can’t just be because I’m horny right?” he cannot believe he would ever be that horny. What the hell was he going to do?

This is pathetic she thought.

I’m pathetic.

She let out a huge sigh before shoving another forkful of cheesy pasta into her mouth.

What am I doing?

The answer?

Eating carbs upon carbs upon carbs, lounging on her comfy sofa in the most comfortable, yet daggiest pair of pyjamas ever while watching reruns of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air for the fiftieth time, actively avoiding all commitments, housework and jobs that involve moving further than to the kitchen, which even then was an embarrassingly burdening trek on its own.

But she let it slide. How could she not? She was upset and this was how she coped. That’s what she kept reminding herself as she boiled more and more pasta watching the days pass her by without realisation, but now, she’s beginning to question if this was the best idea. Pushing all thoughts of him out of her mind by not looking at her phone just in case he called or texted. But she was beginning to struggle.

It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know what inner turmoil she was facing. He seemed genuinely hurt when she snapped at him. He truly didn’t understand why she took so much offence to the playground ribbing, it seemed. And she had to go be a dick and ignore him. He was probably worried sick. How many times would he have called to check up on her? 10? 15? The more she thought about it, the more she wanted this stupid feud to be over and just be in his arms again, even if it’s just as a friend. So she caved. Turned on her phone, expecting there to be at least a call or a text asking if she was still alive or not. And although she did receive a message of that likeness, it wasn’t from Harry, no. It was from her daily water tracking app, pleading her to fill in her daily intake of water so as to not die of dehydration after she was suspected to have not drunk any for the entire week when in reality, she was just too in her head to open her stupid phone and log her water.

Wow, she thought.

Now not only has Harry chosen to not speak to you, but you also look like a huge idiot right now. Of course, he wouldn’t want to talk to you! You got pissed at him for absolutely no reason and now he hates you. He’s gonna ask for his cardigan and track pants that he keeps at your house in case he wanted to sleepover. He’s going to take back all of his little knick-knacks that he leaves over, like the cute diffuser that he leaves because he knows you need it for your constant hay-fever that blocks your nose and then he’s going to declare that you aren’t friends anymore and then you will never get the chance to tell him how you feel and then-

Her panicky brooding is interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Who the hell could that be?”, she thinks. It was too late for it to be the postman with her package containing her entire Amazon wish list that she bought on the third day of mourning to make herself feel better. But it couldn’t be Mrs Xiao asking her if she had any holes in her shirts that needed stitching. The sweet old lady fell asleep at 8:37 pm sharp after her medicine that she’d take at 8:30 pm would kick in (which she learnt after spending nights over at her apartment where her niece, Mei, took care of her. Y/n would learn traditional recipes like baozi and watch movies with her two friends all the time). It couldn’t be Mei either, she was always in online uni lectures from 8:30-10:30 pm, locked away in her little study, so as to not bother or be bothered. So now, a little panicked, Y/n wondered who was truly at her door?

Another two knocks come, echoing off the walls of her little apartment as she turns down the volume of the program she was watching. She stares at the door from her couch, debating whether she should risk getting stabbed by a possible murderer or not, before ultimately deciding that life was too short. She was also getting sick and tired of the knocks that kept arriving in threes. She swings her legs off the couch and onto the floor, pushing them into her slippers so that her feet wouldn’t touch the cold floor, waddling her way to the door before shyly opening it, peeking at who it could be through the tiny crack in the opening, hoping whoever it was wouldn’t mind her current state: belly filled with pasta, hair knotty, giant shirt with sweatpants on and Harry’s patchwork cardigan hanging off her shoulders- which she had been wearing all day, cherishing the pretty piece of clothing and his scent imbedded in it, taking it all in just in case he asks for it back. She peeps at the torso of this mystery person, realising that Harry owns the jumper worn by them, before looking up and locking eyes with a worn out and tired eyed Harry, one hand in the pocket of the familiar hoodie and another extended out near the door, ready to knock again before freezing when it opens up all the way to show herself to her best friend. He doesn’t eye her up and down cheekily like he normally does when she is wearing pyjamas, wolf-whistling at her relaxed state, claiming that “You look runway-ready, my love! Do a twirl for the crowd, will you?”. Instead, he stares her right in the eyes with what looks like almost relief, before smiling a weak and broken smile.

One of them needed to break the silence or both would have just stared at each other in her doorway until the world exploded. So she starts.

“Hi.” her voice hovers a tinge above a whisper, almost as though if she dared to speak louder, this probable illusion of the one she loves would fade away. He lights up a little bit, probably relieved that she started the conversation.

“Hey,” his soft voice matched her volume and tone as if he too didn’t want this to be a dream. “May I come in?” The words sound awkward to her coming out of his mouth. Harry never had to ask for permission to be invited in- he usually just strolled in without so much as a holler to indicate he was present, finding amusement in scaring her instead while she was doing whatever she was doing, whether that be reading, watching a movie, cooking or napping. They were the best of friends and never had to inquire about entry to each other’s domains, along with other small things like if they had anything in their kitchens to eat or if they could sit somewhere, so hearing it was a little disheartening and provoked Y/n to think about how serious this situation was.

“Okay”, she replied after the pause of contemplation, opening the door fully so that the lanky boy could follow along behind her, like a little puppy. She didn’t like how awkward the situation was. She just wanted things to go back to what they were.

But then you wouldn’t be able to tell him you love him... her inner voice argued. And she agreed. She knew that yes, this will be awkward, but it’s an opportunity for him to listen to her and know that she isn’t joking.

“Would you like some tea?” She enquires. They’ll need to handle this like proper grown-ups (which in all honesty, isn’t their dynamic- it’s more like first-year uni students who are mature enough to have deep conversations but still laugh at dad jokes and anything remotely serious, like a painting with boobs), and from what she knows, or has seen in movies when the characters are being serious, is that you need tea or a drink of that sort and a sit down on the couch where you talk stuff out. So that’s exactly what she does.

“Yes please,” Harry’s soft voice replies as he toes off his boots that most definitely cost more than her apartment. Y/n nods and heads to the small kitchenette and flips the switch on the electric kettle before going into her cupboard that housed the mugs. Harry stood awkwardly near the sofas, and to save him the embarrassment of waiting while standing, Y/n invites him to sit with a small, “You can take a seat,” and a quick glance at him before returning her gaze to the mugs to make herself look busy. She didn’t want to look him in the eyes for more than three seconds in fear of bursting into tears and the worn out and tired sight of him. She shakes the thought out of her head and begins to prepare the mugs.

Y/n put two teabags in her mug while putting one in Harry’s. She was raised in a household of avid tea drinkers and she inherited her strong tea quirk from her father who would always keep two teabags with only a dash of milk, and the only difference between her tea and her fathers was that Y/n wasn’t strong enough to take her tea without sugar, unlike her father, who thought that drinking unbelievably concentrated leaf juice with milk was a fun and relaxing time. On the other hand, Harry liked to keep one tea bag in his mug while he drank it, but just like her father, he too took little to no sugar with his cup, being the health freak he was. And early in their friendship, when she mentioned it to him, Harry chuckled and chirped, “Your father is a smart man. He has to be for raising amazing and talented people like your siblings. I’m not sure what went wrong with you though...” while booping her nose as they laid together under a tree for a little picnic. And though she rolled her eyes at him and punched his shoulder for the sly dig at her, she was practically beaming at the fact that he thought her family was smart. Harry had no idea how much that meant to her. Y/n loved her entire family, and she was unbelievably close to them, so it made her entire week to know that Harry, someone she respected and loved so much, recognised how talented and smart each of her family members were. Don’t get her wrong, she didn’t need the validation to know that her family was amazing, but she felt so special knowing he took the time to notice. He did that a lot though. Doing things that meant a lot to her without batting an eye. Saying things that only a person as observant as he could notice, like complimenting her eye colour in the light and asking her to read for him because he constantly mentions how much he loves her voice.

Y/n looked over to the same sweet guy she fell head over heels for, who was sitting on her couch, fidgety as ever, and wondered if they would ever be the same after the very next moments to come. She didn’t want things to change between them, but she was dying inside knowing that he wasn’t hers. And getting over him was not in the question, after the fiasco that happened last week. She just wished she could get inside his head to sate her painful curiosity.

What is he thinking about?

What is she thinking about?

It’s the million-dollar question running through his mind. What was she pondering over as she made them tea? Did she want to talk to him? Was she mad that it took him so long to find the balls to face her? Was she as nervous as he was? Was she worried that they would never be the same again like he was?

He was going into panic mode, questioning everything, while probably looking stupid as ever. As much as he regretted how awkward things were now, and the fact that he instigated her to lash out at him a week ago, he was realising that he was not regretting the fact that he did it. He didn’t want her to go out with someone else, and she didn’t. And yes, of course, he feels bad-beyond bad, in fact- for making her cry, and wishes he could take it all back, he also sees this as an opportunity to tell her how he feels about her. He could finally tell her that he thinks about her all the time. About her soft smile, her bright eyes, her melodic laugh, her speaking voice that brings butterflies to his stomach. He could tell her about how he loses himself at work, the grocery store, fuck- even at events- thinking about what she was doing at her house. Was she under her blankets on her couch, watching some corny tv show? Was she baking her signature choc chip cookies that taste like the gods blessed every single biscuit on the tray before they were put in the oven? Was she knitting her cat, Chesnut, another rug to plonk herself down on, with her feet up on the ottoman as she listened to the 7 o’clock news on the radio? Was she writing a paper for another deadline? Something so sophisticated, like the exploration of white and male privilege and how it is ingrained in our society? Something that Harry tried to understand and research so that he could stay in the loop with his smart girl’s interests, but he always struggled with.

It was a huge insecurity of his. Not that his best friend was smarter than he was, no way. He treasured the fact that she could and would whip his ass at a debate on things like the state of the world, or human rights. She could school him on global politics, languages, maths, science, history and literally anything else, and he would be cheering her on. What he was insecure about was her realising that he was probably slowing her down in life. Y/n was well within her rights to kick him out of her life for being nothing but a freeloader and stopping her from reaching her full potential, what with him constantly stopping her from her own life to help him go through shit happening in his. Whenever he was sad, or confused, or upset, Y/n was the first person he would talk to and he feared that she would realise that he was probably taking advantage of her and stop talking to him. And that scared him. It scared him because he knew that she didn't need him at all, but he needed her to do anything in life. Every major and minor decision in his life has been approved by Y/n first, and not because she was a controlling friend who didn’t trust him with his own life, but because Harry needed her validation. Harry Styles, a world-famous superstar, had girls, guys and non-binaries at his feet, following his every beck and call. Harry Styles, who was on the cover of every magazine, known by every celebrity, dated only the most perfect of women, required validation from Y/n, a psychology major at a small university. Y/n, who liked to plan her day out on a to-do list, end up not doing anything on that to-do list and cry about it afterwards. Y/n, who breaks it down to “Murder She Wrote” by Chaka Demus & Pliers like it’s her last 4 minutes and 5 seconds alive on this Earth while making pancakes. Y/n, who cries more when she’s laughing while watching Tik Toks than she does during sad movies.

To celebrities, Y/n was nothing but a regular. But to Harry, she was all. She was the warmth of a sweater that you toss in the dryer for a few minutes to make it extra toasty. She was the pad of butter that you spread onto your pumpkin sourdough toast and it ends up being exactly the amount you wanted. She was the feeling when you are driving home from a long day of interviews and premiers, and you’re on the freeway and the windows down and you just… exist. She is the feeling you get when you watch Pride and Prejudice, and the relief of when you find the perfect word to end a lyric. She is when your shoes fit perfectly, and when you finish a book so utterly fulfilling that you lie there in a trance, looking up at your ceiling at 3 am, wondering how you could have been so lucky to be able to be blessed with an ending like the one you just read. Y/n was all those things and more.

And that’s why he had to tell her he loved her. No matter how scared he was.

***

The electric kettle is finished boiling the tea all too quickly as the bubbling comes to an end and the distinct click of the switch turning back off echoes around the silent apartment. Y/n had poured the scalding hot water into the two cups she had prepared stared into them.

It was time. She had tried to avoid this for as long as possible, but now it was the moment to face the music. She picked up the two mugs of tea and brought them to her lounge where Harry was sitting on her worn in green sofa, staring at her coffee table, eyebrows scrunched, pouted lips, deep in thought, before looking up at her with wide green eyes, and followed her to where she stood in front of him. She passed his mug to him before sitting on the comfy chair a few feet away from the sofa and from him, putting some distance in between them for her sake, so that she wouldn’t try to hug him and say sorry without saying what she needed to say first. Which she needed to start talking about now, so as not to sit in the awkward silence created by the two.

Say something!!

“So…’

Jesus fuck…. was that all you could think of? Wow. I am going to lose my best friend.

Y/n was choking.

“I am so sorry,” Harry’s voice intercepts, raspy from the lack of use, looking up from the coffee table he seemed so interested in. “I am so fucking sorry Y/n. I have no excuse as to why I was making fun of you that day. I pushed too far and I am a shit friend for not noticing that you were already on edge. It was so wrong of me and I am so sorry.” He stopped himself before he started to ramble, looking at her with eyes filled with an emotion she couldn’t decipher.

Y/n felt… unsatisfied. Why did she feel this way? He apologised, right? So why does she feel unfulfilled? Why does she want him to say more? He hit all of the points he had to for a standard apology, so why did she think he hadn’t done enough? Was it that little optimist in her brain hoping he would maybe reveal a slight attraction to her? Maybe tell her that he loves her, and has loved her forever and ever? Confess that she has bewitched him, body and soul so that she didn’t have to? God, was she an idiot. But a lovestruck idiot at that. She bites her tongue and replies.

“Harry, I forgive you. Although you were annoying as ever,” She rolls her eyes and smirks, while he lets out a breathy, half-assed chuckle, showing his acknowledgement at her attempt to ease the lowered yet still prevalent tension. She continues. “ I understand that you were just trying to have fun. I guess I was the one who irrationally lashed out . I am always okay with you poking fun at me, but I was just frustrated and tired and I took it out on you. I’m sorry for the improper communication and I’m sorry for pushing you away when we should’ve just talked…”

“I forgive you too. I think this was just miscommunication on both parts.” He stared into her eyes, almost as if he could sense the discontent in her, but chose to ignore it.

“I guess so.” She halfheartedly answered, not really knowing where to take the conversation next. They had both apologised, but evidently still had things to say. Well, Y/n had things to say, that’s for sure, but she was pretty sure that Harry wanted to say something too. He had that look on his face where he wanted to say something but was forcing himself not to.

What does he want to say? Why can’t he say it to my face? I mean, sure, I’m also hiding shit I wanna say, but I have an excuse. This could ruin our friendship. What does he have to say?

“Great,” Harry replies, trying to fill the awkward pauses and conversation that is being held. He still looked like he had something to say, but seemed like he was not budging.

Well, if he’s not saying anything, I’m not either. Why do I have to confess my feelings and put our friendship on the line if he isn’t even going to say what’s on his mind?

“So, are we good?”

“I don’t know. Are we? I mean, I forgive you and you forgive me, right?”

“Right… No yeah, we’re alright. We’re completely fine!” Y/n replies quickly. Why the fuck would you say that? You’re not fine.

There is a pregnant pause and Y/n has half a better mind to just get up, walk to the bathroom again with her head down and lock herself in there till he leaves again, because she cannot take this awkward conversation. Not with him. She shifts, ready to stand up to get some water, when Harry looks at her, confusion and slight panic setting into his face.

“Wait. I don’t think I’m fine…” She looks up at the boy sitting in front of her, reading the words from her mind like they were scribed on a piece of paper in the blackest of ink, permanent and bold. Her heart stuttered. What else did he want?

“Is everything okay, H?” she tentatively asks. He loses eye contact with her, gaze lowering towards the table in front of him

“I-” he pauses, trying to collect his thoughts while simultaneously trying to explain to her why he wasn’t okay. “I just- fuck” his head falls down, his face inches away from the hot tea in his hands, the humid steam billowing out of the mug and warming his elegant face as he takes a deep breath and tries once more to convey his thoughts. “I don’t want us to be friends again.”

Her heart stops. This could go one of two ways. He could either be confessing his hatred or his adoration for her, and either one would probably end with her imploding. She tries to take a neutral tone when she replies.

“What does that mean, H?”

He looks at her once more. “It’s not enough, Y/n... “

“What?” She is confused. Her friendship isn’t enough? How is she supposed to reply to that?

“I want more. I don’t want us to just be friends. I want to be more with you. I want to do more with you. I want to do things that friends… they shouldn’t do together…”

Is he trying to confess he likes her? Why, in all the ways you could speak, would he choose to speak like that?! She has had enough of him dawdling around his feelings. “Harry, stop being cryptic and fucking tell me what’s going on?!”

“I love you, Y/n! I fucking love you, Y/n. So much. And it is eating me from the inside out. I hate that we can’t be normal anymore, and I hate that you don’t love me the way I love you, but I cannot sit here and pretend everything is fine, because I love you.”

Y/n is stunned. Frozen in her spot. Can’t move, can’t speak, can’t breathe. Stuck in space, and stuck in time.

Holy fucking shit… he loves me…

While Y/n processes the life changing knowledge that her best friend loves her, her best friend conveniently sits next to her, wishing that he was dead for the letdown he was about to receive.

“Say something… please, for the love of God, say something!”

****

She looks up at Harry. Not Harry Styles, playboy, whore, singer, millionaire, but instead; Harry, her best friend of five years, reddened face out of embarrassment. She sees the mortality in his eyes. Feels his presence so heavily in the moment. She is in awe. True awe of him, and his ability to love her. And with that awe- and that stupid look on her face, she reaches up and cradles his face in her hands, brushing her thumbs softly over his plush pink lips. He stands just as still as her, barely breathing, as if it would shatter the fantasy to stardust and he would wake up in his bed, cold shivers running down his spine, as has happened previously whenever he thought of this moment, staring up at his ceiling at 3:40AM wondering why he thought of his best friend in such a way. She creeped closer to his face before stopping a breath away from him, and whispered.

“Is this okay?”

She looked into his eyes, and he looked into hers, both never feeling so alive before. He wishes to tell her that she needn’t ask for his permission, and that he wants to kiss her forever. Eternally locked in an embrace that holds their souls together. But all he can muster is a weak and broken whisper back.

“Please,”

She can hold it for no longer, and leans in the rest of the way, their lips moulding together, for the very first time, eyes fluttering close, as his hands reach to grab her by the hips to straddle him, deepening the kiss even further. And when they part for breath, panting for air with slightly moist lips, they touch foreheads, eyes still closed. Words needn’t be exchanged- everything that yearned to be said was useless, as it could never describe how they truly felt for each other. So hopelessly besotted with one another, that all they could do was breathe together before kissing once more, hoping that their actions could provide even an iota of an idea of how much they love one another.

Two best friends, turned lovers forevermore.

#by bug #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles fluff #hope you have a wonderful day my little pots of sweet tea!

245 notes · View notes

musette22 · 3 years

Note

Hi Minnie! Hope you can help me settle an argument my brother and I are having about EG!Steve. I'd love to hear your thoughts about this with shipping goggles off, looking at it purely in terms of characterization, narrative, and good writing. Better hang on though, it's going to be a long ask! (sorry in advance for spamming you!) 1/7

So my brother and I were watching FatWS and once again got into a debate about whether Steve's last actions were a disservice or in line with his characterization and narrative, given that the Russos confirmed (and therefore it's Word of God/canon, even if it did sound reactionary to the immediate backlash after EG) that Steve created an alternate reality when he went back, and didn't just live in hiding in the past of the OG timeline. 2/7

Because of this, my bro argued that: 1) the total character assassination that is the idea of Steve just sitting back and letting all the shit happen happen is no longer a problem - for all we know, the alternate reality oldman!Steve came from might have become utopic already due to his presence and foresight. He played coy when talking to Sam so we don't know for certain he didn't save Bucky, get rid of Hydra, and enact social reform when he had the chance. 3/7

Likewise, 2) the accusation that Steve would rob Peggy of her husband and children is a non-issue as Steve went back to a time before Peggy and Daniel got together - I argued here that it was still wrong for him to do given that he KNEW for a fact that Peggy lived a happy life, whereas it was a gamble if he could give her the same. My bro shot back when you truly loved someone, you want them to be happy and to have what's best for them. 4/7

So if Steve chose to go back to Peggy, he had to have believed that he could give her the best life. That Steve based that decision purely on his own assessment is pretty in character (e.g. pushing to become a soldier because he thought that was how he could do his part, even though at the time, he'd have just been a danger to himself and other soldiers; not signing the Accords because he believed in his team's judgment in crises above gov't oversight that might be influenced by politics). 5/7

And lastly 3) he might have settled into the past and started to move on, but what was wrong with him choosing to be selfish and going to the past when given a chance? Why was it wrong for him to go back to a time he knew, where he was beloved by both Peggy and the public, and when he could also save Bucky early? In terms of character growth, wouldn't it be fair for him to finally learn he could be a bit selfish and choose happiness, after a lifetime of nearly suicidal selflessness? 6/7

Our debate was based on confirmed canon with shipping put aside. So I put forth the sin of leaving a traumatized Bucky, Sam, and world behind, that Steve's actions were surely the result of a man broken by grief again and again, and that choosing the past was him running away - which, I argued, was a horrible way to end his character arc. But my brother asked me why I thought so, because wasn't this the so-called 'soft epilogue' that Steve deserved, one that was most in line with canon? 7/7

***************

Hey love! Very interesting argument you and your brother are having here… I’m sure he’s a great guy but I have to say that I vehemently disagree with him (as you probably already guessed lol). Soooo many people have done an excellent job at explaining why, shipping aside, Steve’s ending in EG was absolute bollocks, and I’m certain I could never argue this case as well as all of them have. Nevertheless, I’ll do my best to explain why, in my opinion, your brother is wrong :p I’m going to put my reply under the keep reading tag, because it is long.

1. The Russos and Markus & McFeely (the writers) never managed to agree on whether Steve really did go back to an alternate timeline, and if so, how that would have worked, exactly. When they were asked, after EG had been released, about whether Steve would have just sat back and let everything he knew was happening/going to happen in the decades to come, both to Bucky and to the world at large, they came up with this ‘alternate timeline’ solution, but they kept contradicting each other on the logistics and technicalities of it (like how would old man Steve suddenly be able to jump timelines to come back to give Sam the shield in EG? And how did EG Steve attend Peggy’s funeral, like they also suggested, which would technically have been in a different timeline?). Which makes it pretty clear that this wasn’t something they’d considered beforehand or even all agree on afterwards, and therefore it can’t technically allowed to play a role in judging the rightness of Steve’s ending in EG if we’re looking at it from a ‘the creator’s word is law’ perspective. Moreover, there is nothing to indicate in EG itself that Steve knew he’d be able to create alternate timelines, so that would’ve been a crazy gamble on his part. Also, him ‘playing coy’ in that final scene with Sam really isn’t a convincing indication that he was actually, canonically, talking about anything besides marrying Peggy.

2. Which bring us to point two: Peggy had literally told Steve she’d lived a happy life with her family, and told him in no uncertain terms to move on. If Steve really loved her, he would have accepted her wishes and allowed her the dignity of her choice (something Peggy herself, in CA:TFA, had told Steve was important to do when you care about someone) to move on from him once she believed him dead. Steve deciding that he would be better for Peggy because he believed was a better man than the person she ended up marrying originally would be the most un-like Steve thing to do, ever. Steve has never once shown that he thinks of himself as the hero or better than other people – he simply wants to do the best he can to help make the world a better place. He would never say “Peggy deserves the best and I believe I am the best, therefore she will have me, regardless of what she thinks or wants.” Steve drinks respect women juice, that’s clear from all of his movies, and deciding the course of her entire life for her, taking away her agency, whether in his own timeline or another, would be utterly disrespectful to Peggy.

3. As for the next point: of course there’s nothing wrong with Steve being selfish for once – Steve is human, and all humans are selfish sometimes, and that’s okay. But, as Chris Evans already explained multiple times prior to Endgame, Steve had already made selfish decisions in the past, namely when it came to getting Bucky back and keeping him safe. Shipping aside, Bucky was presented in all the Cap movies as Steve’s very best friend, and was even called his ‘soulmate’ (platonically or otherwise) by M&M (the writers). So when, in Civil War, Steve was presented with a choice between duty/what was expected of him by the government versus saving Bucky/keeping Bucky safe, Steve was selfish and chose Bucky. That, canonically, made sense. Peggy being presented as the ultimate love of Steve’s life, who he loved and valued more than anyone or anything else in the world (which is what happened in EG), canonically does not make sense.

In CA:TWS, Peggy told Steve to move on. When Peggy died, Steve buried her and mourned her, and then not long after, he canonically kissed Peggy’s niece. Then, in Infinity War, Steve saw Bucky turn to dust before his very eyes in the “Blip” (a conscious decision on the writers’/directors’ part to show how Steve once again lost what was most important to him while helplessly standing by) – and the next thing we know, Steve is leading a support group for other people who lost loved ones in the Blip, and starts talking about losing… Peggy? Huh. Also, Steve going back to a time which your brother calls “a time when he was beloved the public” doesn’t add up, either: technically, Steve went back to a time where people loved an idea of him, but also believed him to be dead. So either he would have had to have found a way to convincingly stage his own resurrection (meanwhile possibly leaving the other version to vegetate in the ice..? depending on how this timeline malarkey was supposed to work), or he would have lived his whole life hidden behind some fake persona – which does not sound like Steve at all, does it?

4. Finally, let’s talk about Bucky some more, because I think we need to to be able to assess the situation properly. I understand that your brother may believe that shippers are often delusional and only see what they want to see etc, but there is ample evidence, canonically, of Bucky being the most important person in Steve’s life – the person he would give up the shield for, the person he would give up his other friendships for, the person he would give up his life for. Peggy may have been a recurring character in character in the three Cap movies, but she was never presented as the principal motivator of his actions, or as the love of Steve’s life. You know who was? Bucky. Sure, that love wasn’t canonically romantic in nature, but there can’t be any doubt that Bucky meant more than anything to Steve. Therefore, Steve choosing to have a ‘soft epilogue’ that entails him spending the rest of his life without Bucky – and, more importantly, Bucky to spend the rest of his life without Steve – contradicts everything we’ve learned about their relationship (platonic or otherwise) in the rest of the movies, does it not?

Also, the Russos have said something to the effect that Bucky and Steve were now both mentally ‘well enough’ to not ‘need’ each other anymore (because as we all know, that’s exactly how friendships work…), but it’s pretty clear from EG that Steve was still traumatized by everything he’d been through, and going back to the 50s would have meant he would never be able to get proper help with that and in fact could only talk about any of it with Peggy and Peggy alone. Moreover, M&M have literally said in interviews that Bucky wasn’t all that well yet, mentally, and TFAWTS also shows convincingly that Bucky was not actually in a good place when Steve left him. So that would have meant that Steve either did not see this (unlikely, given how close they were) or did not care (unlikely, given how close they were).

It would have meant that for the first time in all these movies, Steve decided “to hell with Bucky’s needs, I’m gonna just be selfish because I’ve earned it and claim my trophy wife because actually I am the best man for her, despite the fact that she’s already lived a happy life that I will be negating against her wishes, but that’s fine because maybe I’ll be able to create a different timeline, and maybe I’ll be able to save Bucky from all his trauma anyway, but then again maybe not, but that brings me back to my first point of to hell with Bucky’s needs” - which does not make a lot of sense to me, personally. Not to mention that, in exchange for his ‘soft epilogue’, Steve would also leave the world to sort out the post-Blip mess without him, and leave all the other friends he still had left and clearly cared about a lot to boot. I would not call that character growth, I would call that character disintegration. If your brother insists on taking the creator’s word as gospel and that we have to accept that Steve really did do what he did at the end of Endgame, and that wasn’t just a case of bad, lazy writing fuelled by greed, then to make a decision like this, Steve would have been either an asshole in disguise all along, or mentally extremely unstable.

There you have it, my two cents! I hope this helps a little in settling the argument with your brother, anon! Lots of love ❤️

#anti endgame #steve rogers #minnie answers #Anonymous

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gothicstay · 3 years

Text

a night to remember. part one.

Pairing: dilf!Chan x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Flirty-ness, let me know if I missed any

Proofread? No

a/n - Welcome to the first story of my dilf!skz series! Eventually, all members and stories will be linked here! For now, please enjoy part one of Chan’s story. Please note that eventually every story will have smut, however this part doesn’t include any of the sort. Please leave positive feedback or constructive criticism in my askbox or any questions as well! <3

— — —

The giggles and smiles of children filled the air, with the occasional sound of soccer balls being kicked. You watched as your little niece, Annie, ran on the field with her same aged friends as they kicked and tried to score on each other.

Annie was your sibling’s youngest child; and with her parents working all the time to make ends meet, you offered to step in to give Annie as normal as a childhood as possible, whether it be taking her to her playdates or soccer games, or attending her school plays. Hell, just hanging out with her to make her day was help to her sibling and in-law.

But, that wasn’t the only thing that was making her go to these little kid games where Annie just hung out with her friends; There was a man.

Now, it wasn’t just any guy, it was one of Annie’s friend’s (though you weren’t sure they actually were friends) dad. His name was Christopher Bang, also referred to as Chris or Chan. Probably the most handsome and kindest man you had ever met. His hair was a pretty brown and not too short, has a smile (with dimples no less!) that lights up a entire room, and glasses that made him look far too attractive. The man was single, a divorcee, as you had heard through the circle of soccer moms you had befriended. His ex was no longer in the picture, and it was just him and his little girl, Marcie, who had just turned seven.

The two of you, you and Chan, had spoken a few times every week or so, and your cheeks would always turn a little pink every time he complimented you or your smile. He’s incredibly charismatic, and hard-working for his daughter, and it made you wanna know him more.

Today was another Saturday, and another game. You were sat by yourself in the stands, as you did every time. Sometimes someone else would approach to invite you to sit with them, but usually you sat by yourself, surrounded by parents and families cheering their kiddos on. You were half paying attention and half thinking about Chan, and debating on getting his number. Just for a date, or just to get to know him.

Chan tended to show up a little late for Saturday games, having Marcie sleep over at a teammate’s so he could just work and make money. You saw him out of the corner of your eye, carrying a blanket and water, and he notices you and walked over to you.

“Hey, y/n!” He said with a wave and enthusiastic smile. “Can I sit next to you?”

You nod your head, a hint of pink crossing your cheeks. “Of course! How’s it going, Chan?”

“Please, call me Chris.” Chris said with a smile. “I’m doing well, just a lot of late nights this week. Overslept again.”

He speaks with a sigh, sitting down and covering his legs with the blanket. God, he’s just sitting there and you can’t help but keep your eyes on him as he gulps down some water. He caps the water and you find the words to speak again.

“Man, that’s a stinker.” You say, still keeping eye contact. “Hopefully, this week’s better for you.”

“Thanks, me too.” He says with a smile. “How about you?”

“O-Oh me?” You say, taken a back. “Good, guess. Just thinking a lot, I guess.”

Chris’ eyebrows perk up in curiosity. “About what?”

You blink. Shit, you weren’t meant to say it out loud. “O-Oh nothing... just someone in my life, that’s all.”

Chris nods his head, deciding not to pry more. “Annie and her family all good?”

“Yeah, actually! Her father is trying for another promotion, so hopefully he can get it and not work so much.” You say, perking up. “Annie is doing good too, as usual.”

Chris smiles, and he looks down at his phone for a moment before looking back up at you. “This is random but... are you, by chance, free tonight? My friend backed out on our game night we had planned, and I’d love to hang out with you more.”

You feel frozen in time. Your brain was running a mile a minute with oh shit’s and he wants to get to know me?’s. You mentally pinch yourself and make yourself ask him what you wanted to.

“Like a date, of sorts?” You said, surprised you were able to keep your cool as you flush further into the color red. “If I’m interpreting what you’re saying right, of course.”

He nods his head, a light pink showing across his cheeks. “If you wouldn’t mind that, y/n.”

“Not at all.” You say, trying not to mumble or stumble any words out of nervousness. “I would love a date with you.”

Chris smiles, mentally high-fiving himself for being able to ask you out after knowing you for a bit. He goes to speak, until he hears his daughter shout out his name.

“Papa, Papa, we won!!” Marcie shouts happily, running over with Annie, your niece. “Me and Annie scored!!”

“Mar, it’s Annie and I! That’s what Miss Oswald said it was on Thursday. I think.” Annie looks to you. “Right, y/n?”

You nod your head, trying to ignore the blushing heat rising to your cheeks still. “Yes, Annie, thats correct.”

Marcie and Annie, unfortunately for you two, notice the blushes plastered on your faces. Their brains click the lightbulb at almost the exact same time. The two friends look over at each other with an almost sinister giggle. You and Chris are both oblivious to what the two have realized.

“Annie, head to the car why don’t you? We’ll get breakfast as a treat from me.” You say, trying to get your niece to walk away so you can say good bye and see you tonight to Chris. Chris said to same to Marcie as well, minus the breakfast thing. The two decided to race over in excitement with them kicking their soccer balls to your car.

You turn to Chris, a smile and blush still plastered on your face. “I’m excited for tonight.”

“Me too.” Chris smiles, nodding his head and letting his cute temples show. “I should get going, gotta prepare for tonight.”

You nod your head in agreement as you both walk to the parking lot. Before you part ways, you stop to look at him again. “See you tonight, pretty boy.”

You both go your separate ways, you both mentally melting over getting to see each other tonight.

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lovelivingmydreams · 3 years

Text

My nieces are fanders

Summary: When you meet a super cute guy and land a date with him, you definitively want to gush about him with someone. In Nico’s case that someone is his oldest sister. The visit holds a surprise for him though.

This is part of a bigger story which starts here

Nico was humming to himself as he walked up the driveway to his older sister’s house.

“I can’t wait to tell Marcia all about Thomas!” Félix gushed. It’d been a week since they met him and while they had yet to look him up, deciding it was cheating a little to watch his content and maybe accidentally see more than Thomas wanted to share before they even went on their first date. Ràmon, his morally flexible, deceptive facet, still thought they should at least just check his accounts to make sure he didn’t oversell himself. “I’m sort of known on youtube” might just have been an exaggeration to impress him. Léon, his fury, was already working himself up over being misled when the others came to Thomas’ defense. He seemed rather humble about all his accomplishments. He deserved the benefit of the doubt. “She’ll be so excited for us!” Fabio, his heart, gushed. “Hope mom and dad won’t be too upset that they aren’t the first we told…” Alejo worried as he bit his lip. “We will tell them about Thomas if we come to a stage where we are ‘officially’ dating him,” Diego, his logic, reminds him. It was how they did things. His parents were a bit too supportive sometimes. If he mentioned Thomas, mom would start insisting he come over for dinner no matter how Nico insisted they weren’t that serious yet. His father would ask questions he didn’t have answers for and he would feel entirely too pressured… Best to tell them after he and Thomas got a bit farther. And he really hoped he would get to tell them about him soon. He rang the bell and soon the door opened to reveal a beaming Marcia. “You smelled my cooking didn’t you?” she asked. Nico chuckled. “You caught me,” he confessed as he threw his hands up in surrender while letting her embrace him. “It’s good to see you again hermanito,” she sighed before letting him go and leading him inside. “Dinner will be ready in ten minutes. Yi will be home soon and he’ll entertain the kids afterwards so you can tell me what’s got you sparkling like the fourth of July.” Marcia looked back at him and quirked a brow curiously. Nico blushed a little. He was that obvious huh? His sisters eyes lit up and she was grinning like th cat that got the cream. Well he just confirmed her suspicion. “Okay, sounds good,” he muttered casually. Luckily Marcia let it go for now. “Can I get you something to drink?” she asked. “Just a glass of water is fine,” Nico assured her while he leaned against the kitchen counter to watch her work. “Tio Nico!” Nico looked up and saw Marcia’s oldest, his 15 year old niece Carla run up towards him to give him a hug. He embraced his niece with a smile and ruffled her hair. “How are you kids doing?” he asked as the teen girl let go. “Fine. Felicia hasn’t finished her homework yet, but she will be down in a minute.” Nico nodded taking note of cousin’s pronouns for today. It had been an adjustment for everyone when Fabien came out of his room wearing a skirt for the first time and asked to be called Felicia on days she felt more feminine, but they hardly slipped up anymore. “We have something awesome to show you!” Carla continued her eyes sparking with excitement. “Oh?” he asked curiously. “What is it?” “Don’t start without me!” Felicia exclaimed as she rushed through the door and hugged Nico as well. “Now I’m getting nervous,” Nico chuckled as he let his nieces push him into a chair and sit down next to him. Carla was looking something up on her phone while Felicia seemed to be using hers to film him. “Tio Nico. Have you ever been serenaded by a stranger?” Felicia asked. The general confusion in Nico’s head left him with no other response other than cocking his head. “Um… no…?” he replied. His nieces giggled. And then Carla pushed her phone in front of him and they shoved earbuds into his ears. She pressed play and before he knew it he was faced with…. “Thomas!!!!” Félix screeched in his head. It was unfair of him to look so handsome. And then he started singing! “Nico, radiant and pure. Always so, accepting and secure. Never knew anyone so kind. So funny and sharp of mind. All this to say… Have a nice day.” And then he winked! Nico’s nieces were giggling at his flustered face. Alejo inspected the screen and found a description in the corner. “This week’s #shout out Sunday goes to all the nice Nico’s of the world” he read out as he slowly relaxed. Nothing that insinuated Thomas was thinking of a particular Nico. His nieces had probably just thought it was fun to show him the video. Perhaps they thought he’d be enchanted by the handsome stranger with the voice of an angel seemingly singing for him. They weren’t entirely wrong. “That’s Thomas Sanders. He’s our favorite youtuber,” Felicia explained. Nico nodded a little dumbfounded. “He’s a singer?” he guessed, though he knew he was more than that. But he was not ready to tell his nieces he’d met this man and was going on a date with him next week. “And an actor, and the nicest person alive!” Clara explained. “He lives in Florida and he is gay…” Félicia added not too subtle, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. “Stop teasing your uncle girls. Set the table. We’ll be eating soon.” Nico was relieved. The rest of the evening he struggled to pay attention to the conversations at the dinner table. His mind was absolute chaos “He serenaded us! Actually serenaded us!” Felix gushed dancing around unable to contain his elation. “And it does sound like he is somewhat successful in entertaining his audience. He was telling the truth it seems,” Ràmon allowed. Leon nodded, calming down significantly. Leon had been part of the deeper recesses of Nico’s mind for a long time. Until one day he was called by a panicked Carla who was hiding from bigots with her sister. Nico had hurried over and gotten them out. But he’d been so close to hitting one of those kids. It had been Alejo who, in his worry for the girls’ well-being, had managed to hold Leon back enough to allow Fabio to reason with him. His writings had taken a much angrier tone for a few days after. Ever since that day, Nico was aware that he could get violent when angry and he’d been working on managing Leon without pushing him away. Like Alejo he was mostly overprotective of the others and Nico’s loved ones. He just jumped more on Alejo’s fight aspect than the flight part. “He was so nice!” Fabio gushed. “Does he really think all that about us?” Alejo wondered flustered. “It seems quite likely that he does,” Diego concluded. “Just as we have made some observations about him that may or may not be accurate,” he added, soothing Alejo’s worry a bit. Shifting him more to the excited side of his spectrum. “Well? Spill!” Marcia insisted when they found themselves alone on the patio after dinner. Nico sipped from his glass and didn’t look at his sister while he just spilled the truth. “I met a really cute guy at the mall this week, and we’re going out for lunch in two days.” Marcia barely contained her squealing. “Finally! Tell me everything!” she demanded. And just like that, his excitement at being able to gush about the whole meeting returned. Marcia was a good listener. She knew the story ended well but she acted like she actually thought he might miss his shot with his determination to get some work done and not to bother the mysterious stranger. When he got to Thomas’ confession she was vibrating with excitement. “He sounds so adorable!” Nico flushed. “Yeah… He’s an actor and singer…” “Ooooh, someone to sing your songs!” she exclaimed. “And his name is Thomas Sanders…” Maricia’s eyes widened as understanding dawned on her. “Now that explains the look on your face when you saw that video…Wait that was for you? If mama ever sees it then she’ll insist you marry him you know that right?” she laughed. So not only did she know of Thomas, she had seen the video in question. “Yeah… She probably will. Have you seen anything else of his?” “I try to be aware of what my kids are watching online. He has two channels and about 3,4 million ‘Fanders’ last I checked.” “Oh my god!!!!” Felix gushed. Overwhelmed by both the cute fandom name and the dazzling number of fans. “Definitely not a liar,” Ràmon breathed in relief. He had been reluctant to get his hopes up until now. He was cautious, wary of things that were too good to be true. Just like Alejo. But their anxious look out was, in his eyes at least, compromised on the subject due to his close tie to the butterflies clouding all their feelings and thoughts. Now however, it seemed that his biggest doubts were adressed, he felt free to look forwrad to the date like everyone else. “He is a good guy, going by his content. And he is really cute.” Nico chuckled. “Yeah he is,” he agreed.

When he got home he was actually planning to freak out a bit more and debate over whether or not to watch some video’s. If for no other reason than to just see him do something he loved. Was that stalkerish? Luckily his phone alerted him to a text. Thomas. It was a cute dog picture. Nico smiled. He did that sometimes. Sent him things just to make him smile. N: You are such a dork. TS: I refuse to apologize for that! TS: I can’t wait until our lunch date! Nico hesitated for a moment. But then he went all in. N: Missing my radiant presence that much? God that was cheesy. Was it too cheesy? He is not like this! Not usually. Or maybe he was and Thomas just brought it out of him. TS: OMG you saw!!!!? N: My nieces thought it would be funny to see how I’d react when a ‘stranger’ serenades me. TS: Fanders!? Oh my goodness that is amazing! TS: You weren’t bothered? I get that it might seem a bit weird. “He is so precious!!!!” Fabio squealed. “I know right? This is not healthy for us! It can’t be,” Félix exclaimed clutching his heart and leaning on Alejo for support. Who promptly stepped away and let him fall to the floor with a grin. “Not a couch,” he reminded his friend who was pouting for a bout two seconds before his excitement overpowered his annoyance. N: It was awesome, don’t worry. I was very flattered. Your singing voice is amazing. TS: Thanks. Should he ask? If Thomas says it’s okay then it’s fine right? N: Okay if I watch some more of your singing? There he asked. No backing out. TS: Of course! Fair warning, if you find vines, some are cringy and sometimes I play a straight man. Vines huh? Wow, that felt like ages ago. Thomas had mentioned his misleading complements when they talked. N: Okay. I’ll keep that in mind. Goodnight. TS: Goodnight. “Are we really doing this?” Alejo wondered as Nico typed in ‘Thomas Sanders Vines’ in the search bar of Youtube. One look at the results had Nico in stitches. “He’s such a goofball!” Fabio squealed clapping his hands as he saw Thomas’ smiling face on every thumbnail in various goofy situations. How was he supposed to choose? “Oooh! That one is him reacting!” Félix exclaimed pointing at a three year old video. Nico nodded in agreement and clicked on the video. First this and then see if he could find some more videos of Thomas singing. He didn’t know it. But he was in for a wild ride.

I might write one more chapter, but then it’s over until Thomas posts his next video in three years. I want to stick to the canon as much as possible. You’ll hear from me if that changes though! Enjoy!

@rich-flower-17 @maryann-draws @selenechris @meowthefluffy @chibibunnis @whatishappeningrightnow @floofyconfusednerd @destinyiscallingus @98prilla @catsarebestest @falpiancaraxus @queer-mattress-king @verysharkbakerydeputy @sarenicide @kitcatgirl600 @stariimayplayz @queer-devil @celestialviper @hennehennehennehoo @1americaninapool @firstorderfilms @xxmoonmorquanxx @naturallyunstablegamer @ciannathegiver58 @reeaninenine @pdvzh2 @rubixcubes-and-crowbars @not-a-possum-i-swear @nadja-chamack16 @ayidakira @theclassyghost @such-as-we-are-made-such-we-be @theblackveilinreverse @lucasdrawblog @erinriver5 @theshortgothicpunk @titheinironside @shipsarebeautiful @hoppe-ideas @i-died-50-years-ago @just-a-thing-to-do @the-magicalpotato @ rosethevoid @justfinsworld @supanxietysworld @kay-is-kid @devoteddeceit @friskthefallenmonster @liveonmercury @impalasquiptyseven @frida0043 @meow-face @baguettewoman2020 @sing-it-for-the-gays @perfectly-princely-emo-nightmare @snowcatwhiteangel @to-many-hotpockets @greenlasagagramfel @elliwashere @errors-in-my-heart @xxstill-i-risexx @ontheground15 @stubbornness-and-spite @potatiowatchingyoutube @nina-maee @sablesides @alias290 @s0n-of-a-peach @starlightnyx @idrawdumbstffsometime @shadowqueen88 @stars656 @lets-go-emma-of-the-100-fandoms @avocados26 @hanna10hanna10 @astrozei @thunderboldt1312 @galaxy-girl1999 @toknowaliar @musicobsessed1505 @tired-yeetling @athenashipsthings @firegirl156 @pomegranate-ghost @jerasings @strangest-loser @kittylikesflowers @pollyparrot8 @atdffpetra @altheaudaku @amberpeltsstuff @smallwaffle224 @cdragontogacotar @angelic-cali @fandoms1reality0 @contemplativespectrum @hedgiehoggles @alicethetrueunicorn @disasterlesbon @marguii-14 @emo-nightmare-without-the-emo @onecannotbebrave @confused-bi-and-ready-to-die @aelingalathynius6 @hetacon @booksfoodmusic-minion @maya-custodios-dionach @iwispkid @virgofoxy @simplification @emoghost-boy @hickledickle @crackedcurse @softballobsessed @hi-fellow-demons @mygenderisbees @lavenderchaitea @greekgeekgoddess @kuroyurishion @pauleyester

#ts sides #karrot kings #nico flores

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crownjimin · 3 years

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✰ 076 | not such a bad idea, part two.

la vie en rose ━ in which lee aera, a girl who has been crushing on choi soobin for a long, long time, is starting her junior year and her friends decide that its time for her to make her move.

( masterlist | prev | next )

A bit further down the hallway, Aera spots Soobin leaning against the wall quite leisurely. When he notices Aera approaching, he stands up straight and smiles at her. “The other boys went outside already, I waited back for you.”

The action in of itself made Aera’s heart skip a beat, quite a long one since she felt a pain in her chest from the lack of blood flow. But the gesture was sweet, and Aera smiled a coy smile, before answering, “You didn’t have to.”

“Eh,” Soobin shrugged. “It was my choice.”

The two take small steps down the hallway towards the balcony, almost as if the both of them didn’t want to join the others and stay with one another. An eerie, yet comfortable silence began to form, but Soobin quickly interjected.

“Your house is really nice,” he complimented. “So is your mother. She’s so lively and welcoming.”

Aera grimaced at his word choice, because lively and welcoming did describe her mother perfectly but so did embarrassing and overbearing. “Yeah, she’s quite a lot.”

“I think she’s friendly. Didn’t make the whole meeting the parents thing as scary as I thought.”

The words make Aera stop her walking for a second. “You were scared about meeting my parents?”

She looked up at Soobin, who was looking further down the hallway before he slowly turned to face Aera with a nervous smile on his lips. “Just a bit. I don’t know why though since I should’ve expected your parents to be just as nice and wonderful as you.”

“Wonderful?” she lightly breathes out.

“Well, technically, I’ve only met your mother, maybe your father isn’t as nice, but we will see when the time comes,” Soobin continues, either ignoring Aera’s look of disbelief mixed with another unreadable emotion or just not seeing it. “I’m sure he is nice though.”

Aera remained staring at Soobin for a few seconds, him returning the gaze as they stood in the vacant hallway in silence. No one else around, just the two of them staring at one another both with thinly veiled, heated gazes filled with admiration and fondness for the other. But the two did not know that, to them, they were staring at a friend, someone who did not return the same feelings to the same intensity as the other. If only they knew the truth, if one of then took the initiative to be brave and ask.

But neither did ask, instead Aera broke their gaze and brought her eyes to the floor, “I think he’s nice. Well, at least Appa is more bearable than Eomma. He’s not as forward.”

“Forward isn’t always bad.”

“Sometimes,” she replies. “Sometimes it isn't.”

They continue down the hallway now, both of them syncing up their footsteps.

“But, hey, I’m guessing Sakura hasn’t tried to kill you yet?” Soobin says with a joking lilt, teasing her for her irrational worries.

Aera scoffs a laugh at that. “Not yet, at least.”

The pair finally make it to the doorway and Aera steps to the right to seat herself at the picnic table, muttering the apology she promised her mother she would deliver. Soobin veered off to the left, taking a place on the sofa with the other three boys who seemed to be deep in the talk about a new album from someone Soobin hadn’t heard of before.

Sakura watched as Aera placed down her laptop and notebook, seemingly expectant for the brown-hair girl to say something that Aera wasn’t sure of. Due to this, she raised an eyebrow at Sakura and asked, “What?”

“You didn’t tell me that you invited other people,” Sakura quietly spoke, peering over to the opposite side of the balcony where Taehyun now stood singing a random tune that seemed to have the other three boys enraptured. “Did you purposely not tell me or?”

“No, I-” Aera knows that she can’t lie well. Whenever she tries either her voice raises over to octaves or she blinks repeatedly, for the worst cases she does both. “Maybe we should just start choosing a song. I’ve made you wait long enough.”

“Yeah,” the other girl agrees, not taking her eye off of Soobin as she speaks, and Aera being sure to take note of the action. “Let’s start.”

Sakura and Aera had made progress within the last hour and a half. They chose their song, one by IU where Sakura felt like it was easy to catch the beat, while Aera thought the lyrics were telling yet easy to remember. They then called up the boys to listen to their presentation, allowing them to give out critiques and feedback to their girls where the four boys found necessary. Although Aera was almost certain Taehyun was using this time to show off his vocal abilities, seeing as each time he found a ‘problem’ with the girls’ singing, he gave them a tutorial on how they should be singing and performing it himself.

A few minutes after the girls had gotten started with their performance for the boys, Aera’s parents brought out the loads of ‘snacks’ that they had prepared. Tteokbokki, jajangmyeon, and fried pork cutlets were just a few of the delicacies that the eldest Lees had prepared for their youngest child and her friends. The moment the food had been set out, the six teenagers began feasting.

For the three new young boys, since he was already familiar with Sanha, they were introduced to Aera’s father. The older man took it upon himself to ask each of them their name and speak with them a bit. He relayed the compliments his wife had spoken to him about, but Aera noticed that her father kept going back to Soobin and asking him questions.

Her mother had sat with the girls at the picnic table, being sure to feed Sakura as much food as she pleased and answered any question the bright-haired girl had about the cooking process. For Aera, being around Sakura for these past few hours weren’t as tortuous as she thought. She had expected snarky comments and backhanded words to be spat her way every ten seconds, but Sakura was actually quite (and Aera can’t believe she was thinking it but--) nice.

Sakura has a voice that’s velvety and smooth when she sings, and whenever Aera would mess up a lyric or sing in the wrong key, Sakura wouldn’t belittle her for her mistake. She would actually pause the music and help Aera go over the line once again. The two girls made a better team than they had thought, and once the group had stuffed themselves full, the two girls resumed their ‘performance’ for the four boys.

They sang the song a total of five times before the girls were deemed ‘flawless’ by the quartet. Although, Jeongin wasn’t paying that much attention and Sanha would say that they were flawless after each time they finished their song. Soon all six of them fell into simple conversation, Sakura squeezing onto the two-seat sofa with Soobin and Taehyun, and Aera sitting comfortably between Jeongin and Sanha on the three-seat couch.

Currently, they were debating whether they were Team Iron Man or Captain America, and majority had voted Team Cap, with Jeongin and Taehyun being the outliers who sided with Iron Man.

“Literally, what does Iron Man have to offer,” Sanha argued, “he’s just a rich man in a suit!”

“Exactly,” Jeongin rebutted. “He’s rich, he has money to offer. Do you guys think the Avengers tower, the hulk iron suit thingy, and so many more of the gadgets the Avengers used would have been created without Tony?”

Soobin shook his head at that. “Well, Ultron wouldn’t have been made without Tony either. He literally caused the entire second Avengers movie.”

“Who’s Ultron?” Sakura asked, and Taehyun agreed with her.

“The robot in Avengers: Age of Ultron,” Aera informed them. “C’mon guys it’s literally in the name!”

“And-and also, Captain America is just better because he could pick up Thor’s hammer in Endgame, like,” Aera paused for a second for dramatic effect. “Iron Man couldn’t do that. That means Steve Rogers is worthy.”

“Well Iron Man freaking saved the world and brought back everyone who was dead leafed away,” Taehyun pointed out. “Steve didn’t do that shit.”

“Dead leafed,” Soobin asked in confusion. “But anyways, Steve Rogers was still alive in the end, Tony wasn’t. There is clearly only one winner.”

“But Steve went back,” Jeongin said.

“He still isn’t dead,” Sanha interrupted. “But I’m not going to say Cap is perfect. He kissed his ex lover’s niece like three days after she died. And then went back to be with that same ex lover, so technically he kissed his niece!”

A chorus of ‘eww’ and ‘gross’ echoed throughout the group, while Sanha simply shrugged and said, “Somebody had to point it out.”

Suddenly a vibrating buzz filled the air, and Sakura stood up from her seat. She grabbed her ringing phone and began talking to whoever was on the other line. None of the boys paid attention to her, but Aera was watching her in case it was time for her to leave. Soon after, Sakura hung up the phone and began packing her stuff.

“My mom said she’s outside,” Sakura spoke to the group, making Aera stand up so she could lead Sakura to the front door.

The four boys all echoed different forms of, “goodbye,” as Sakura finished packing her things, and began heading inside. Aera and Sakura made their way back down the hallway and to the front foyer, standing idly for a few seconds as they prepared their farewells.

“Uh,” Aera began. “Thanks, for coming over. I hope it wasn’t as bad as you thought it was going to be.”

“It wasn’t as bad,” Sakura smiled. “It was actually quite enjoyable, which I never thought I would have had as much fun with someone who I thought was so boring.”

Aera smiled tight-lipped at that, not being sure if she should be offended or grateful. “Thanks? But, yeah, it was fun. At least we got the project done.”

“Yeah,” Sakura placed her hand onto the door handle, pulling it open while still facing Aera. “But really, you’re cool.”

“You too, Sakura.”

“Thanks,” she smiled, turning to leave before she looked back at Aera quickly and said, “Oh! Can you also tell Soobin I’ll text him later? I forgot to say it before I left the balcony.”

The brown-haired girl froze at that statement, a pang of something settling in her chest but she recovers quickly. “Yeah, I’ll tell him when he leaves.”

“Cool. Thanks.”

“Yeah,” Aera watches as Sakura walks from her front door to the passenger seat of her mother’s car. “Bye.”

She makes her way back out to the balcony, expecting to see the four boys still in their same spots, but instead she is only greeted by Jeongin and Sanha.

“Where are the other two,” she asks, taking their previous seats in their absence.

“They went to go help your mom clean the dishes,” Jeongin says through a piece of fried pork cutlet in his mouth, which Aera doesn’t know where he got it from because she was sure they had finished that off first out of all of the dishes. “Y’know to get in her good ranks again.”

“I’m surprised you aren’t in there too, San San.”

Sanha rests back farther in his seat. “Eh, I think it’s time for me to step down from my position of favorite and let someone who deserves it take the crown.”

“Ah, what a humble fellow,” Aera jokes with a posh accent.

“That I am,” Sanha replies, playing along.

Jeongin mutters something under his breath about the two of them being weird just as Taehyun and Soobin return, Soobin sitting beside Aera on the sofa, and Taehyun choosing to join Sanha and Jeongin on the couch.

A warm silence takes over the group as no one talks, but Aera does take notice of the fact that she and Soobin are merely an inch and a half apart and with the slightest movement of her knee, their knees would be touching. But she doesn’t have to contemplate whether or not she was going to make the first move, seeing as seconds later Soobin moves his own knee, knocking his jean-clad one with her sweatpant clad knee.

The silence seems to thicken for a moment, and neither of them move an inch. Sanha notices the discreet action, taking it upon himself to not make a big deal and he turns to face Jeongin in order to conceal his smile.

Maybe this wasn’t a bad idea after all.

#choi beomgyu #choi soobin #choi yeonjun #hueningkai #kang taehyun #choi soobin x female oc #kpop #social media au #txt #txt social media au

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silverdecepticon93 · 4 years

Note

can you write something where the reader is Queen Bee's heiress (niece or younger sister) and is the first bialyan hero and Queen Bee and Black Manta try to arrange a marriage between you and Kaldur (when is on the Light's side). please.

Here it is! I hope you guys enjoy!

Nightwing’s secrets and habit of keeping people in the loop was getting pretty tiresome in your opinion, especially when he didn’t inform you that Kaldur’ahm was undercover. At least, you hoped Kaldur was undercover if not, that might be somewhat troublesome for you.

Especially since you secretly worked against your sister, Queen Bee. As much as you loved and appreciated family, she was slowly becoming more and more immersed in her own selfish goals by the day, and your beloved country of Bialya was feeling the effects of her greed and warmongering. Even if you were to inherit the throne after her rule, you were merely going to be a puppet Queen, and Bialya will forever be under The Light’s control so it was your goal to help the Justice League stop The Light as soon as you could.

“Kaldur’ahm, this is my sister, (Y/n),” Queen Bee introduced, putting a hand on your shoulder and gesturing to the half-Atlantian.

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Princess.” The Atlantian greeted, nodding his head politely.

You were slightly confused as to why he was making it seem as though this was the first time he met you, mostly because he was the one you often told your sister’s plan too, but you played along by smiling and giving him a small curtsy.

“Yes, it is very nice to meet you as well, Kaldur’ahm.” You responded before standing up straight.

“Just ‘Kaldur’ would be fine, isn’t that right, son?” Black Manta beamed, looking at his son. Kaldur merely nodded and looked over to you with a small smile, “If the Princess wishes.”

Queen Bee grinned before putting an arm around your shoulder, “In that case, there’s no need for formalities, so you may call her (Y/n) if you wish, Kaldur.”

You raised an eyebrow at your elder sister but she elbowed your back, making you scowl a little before looking up at the two males with your best smile, “Yes, if you wish.” An awkward silence then fell between the two of you, Kaldur now looking at the ground as you started to fidget with the fabric of your dress. Queen Bee then pushed you slightly towards Kaldur, making you gasp in surprise but look over your shoulder to glare at her.

She looked and nodded over at Kaldur, a silent sign she wanted you to speak up.

“So, to what do we owe the pleasure of having our fellow members of The Light visit us in Bialya?” You asked in a light-hearted tone, masking the annoyance you were feeling.

Kaldur and Black Manta didn’t answer right away, not until Black Manta looked at his son and nodded his head towards you, making Kaldur raise an eyebrow but look back over to you.

“I believe my father wanted to arrange something with your sister,” Kaldur answered, “I’m assuming it is related to The Light’s master plan?”

Black Manta nodded, “Yes it is, but it is a private matter, now if you excuse us, we must leave to discuss it.” “Indeed, you two wait here. (Y/n), perhaps you could give Kaldur a tour of the palace.” Your sister said and you could tell by her tone she wasn’t giving you an option.

You merely nodded before linking your arm along with Kaldur’s, only to look back at your sister quizzically, and both she and Black Manta watched as you and Kaldur walked away to start the tour of the palace. Kaldur also looked back to face his father before looking away as well, his attention on solely on you as the slight smell of flowers soon came to his attention

“That was...odd.” You finally answered.

“Really? What made you think that?” Kaldur mused, making you smile a little. You then turned to look at him from his new black suit that resembled his father’s before looking up at him, “So, you’re a member of The Light now?”

He nodded, “Indeed.”

“That’s...uh, that’s surprising,” You coughed awkwardly before looking up at him, “I wouldn’t expect you to be a member.”

“I don’t think we should discuss it here.” Kaldur finally said in a hushed tone, gesturing to the guards that were stationed by the walls. You looked and gulped a little, “Good point. I think I know of a good place to discuss it.”

Kaldur allowed you to lead him across the castle, all while debating whether or not what to do. After all, it had been a while since you and he had seen each other, for all he knew, you could’ve defected to The Light after all that has happened.

However, as he looked to the gloomy city out the window, he highly doubted it. You were a responsible princess, you cared about your subjects and often put them before your own well-being and happiness, and Kaldur was pretty sure nothing would change that. Still, Kaldur was unsure about where your alliances laid.

You two entered what look like a lavish bedroom, Kaldur could tell it was yours by the flowery perfume he smelled, the same one he noticed on you. You unhooked your arm with his and closed your bedroom door, suspiciously looking around the hallway before shutting the door. Then you looked back to face Kaldur.

“Okay, so what really are you and your father doing here?” You asked, tilting your head. Kaldur shifted uncomfortably in his spot before looking up at you, “My father didn’t tell me, I was hoping that he’d tell me when we got here.”

You nodded a little, “Yes, my sister didn’t tell me anything, either...why did you act like we haven’t met before?”

Kaldur paused a little, hesitating whether to answer you or not before he finally looked into your (e/c) eyes, as though looking for something.

“I’m unsure about your alliances, (Y/n), are you with The Light or do you still rebel against your sister?” He asked, putting on a poker face. You leaned on your door and crossed your arms over your chest, “I won’t answer until I know your alliances, Kaldur’ahm. Are you undercover or have you actually betrayed your friends?”

Kaldur frowned a little before looking up at you hesitantly, “I am no traitor, (Y/n).”

“Neither am I.” You responded evenly.

You two stared at each other for a while, analyzing your words. Kaldur’s words struck you as odd, if he wasn’t a traitor then he didn’t betray his friends before you finally realized what they truly meant.

“Okay, so, I’m assuming we’re both undercover?” You asked him, a little hesitant to say it. Kaldur smiled in relief at your words, “Yes, it seems as though we both are.”

You chuckled a little before, you could feel a heavy pressure being lifted from your stomach, one that you didn’t know was forming until it was gone. Then your eyes flickered in remembrance before looking up at him.

“So, we’re both clueless about what my sister and your dad are planning?” You confirmed. Kaldur nodded his head, “Yes, although my father was acting a little odd today.”

“How so?” You asked, sitting on your bed.

Kaldur tapped his chin thoughtfully before looking at you, “Well, he seemed to be a little focused on my appearance as well as talking about you.”

You blinked dumbfoundedly before looking at you, “My sister was acting the same way! She took it upon herself to dress me up this morning and kept talking about two members that we’re coming over. Usually, she doesn’t even bother to talk to me at all…”

You then sadly looked at the ground, making Kaldur frown slightly but sit next to you, putting a hand on your shoulder sympathetically. You looked up at him in confusion before noticing the small, comforting smile on his face. It was a smile that you returned slightly before finally sitting up thoughtfully.

“But what does that have to do with The Light?” You frowned, tilting your head.

“Who knows, perhaps we can figure it out ourselves, if not, we should see what information we could get after.” Kaldur planned. You nodded in agreement, “So we should exchange private contact information, so we can compare notes.”

“I agree,” Kaldur said before taking out his cellphone and you took out yours.

The night became odder after Kaldur and his father left. You two had tried to come up with theories but you two became lost in conversation about trivial things, it was actually quite pleasant. However, when dinner came, you were surprised that your sister had joined you since she’d rather eat in her office or so.

“So, what did you think about Kaldur?” She asked after a few minutes of silence.

You paused when eating your food at the mention of him, then you looked up at your sister in utter confusion.

“Um...he was nice company,” You finally said, “very pleasant to be around.”

“Do you think he’s handsome, Sister?” Queen Bee asked, leaning a little at you. You frowned and raised an eyebrow, “Forgive my tone but where is this going, Sister?”

Queen Bee’s stare became severe, making you panic internally but she soon sighed a little before sinking back into her seat, “I suppose I couldn’t keep it from you forever. You see, Black Manta and I were discussing a new plan for The Light, something to strengthen Bialya’s bond with The Light.”

Your frown grew a little, even hearing Bialya and ‘The Light’ in the same sentence made you feel sick, but you saved face as your sister was about to reveal the plan she was discussing with Black Manta.

“We want to arrange a marriage, to unite Bialya and The Light further.” Your sister explained.

Your eyes went wide and you dropped your fork. Anger began to bubble inside you, after all, this wasn’t about being united or strengthening any bond of any sort. It was to assure you as a puppet Queen of The Light, that Bialya was forever going to be under The Light’s control. You wanted to scream and wanted to lash out but you couldn’t.

“And Kaldur is my chosen husband?” You asked, trying to mask your frustration. Your sister nodded, “I imagine he’s being told right now.”

You looked down at your plate, unable to eat any more, but you tried to find out the advantages of the situation. You and Kaldur were both spies, so if you were promised to be married to each other, it would give you two more times to exchange information. Not only that but it only reinforces your reputations of being loyal members to The Light. Plus…

Kaldur wasn’t exactly that most awful person to be married to in your opinion.

#Kaldur'ahm x reader #Kaldur'ahm x you #kaldur x reader #Kaldur x you #Young Justice x reader #Young Justice x you #YJ x reader #Yj x you #Aqualad x reader #Aqualad x you #Dc x reader #Dc x you #Queen Bee x reader #Queen Bee x you

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pinkja · 4 years

Text

First Contact (Nora x Reader)

Nora feels your baby kick for the first time and has a revelation.

Nora’s Southern and Trans :)

—

“I think I’m pregnant.”

These words were uttered as you and Nora were laying in bed together, the rays of the sun dimming as it set for the day. Nora, who had been previously pointing out how the crack in your bedroom ceiling totally looked like a chicken, paused and turned towards you, hand still pointing at the chicken’s supposed beak as her eyes widened. You didn’t look at her at first, forcing yourself to look at the ceiling and at Nora’s still hand.

It was silence between the two of you for a good minute or so, and that combined with the burn of Nora’s gaze almost drove you crazy, so you finally met her eyes. Dark brown eyes stared blankly at you, as if she was still registering what you said.

“Wait, what?” Was the first thing she said to you and it took everything in your power not to smack her. Seeing frustration start to form on your features, Nora scrambled to say something else. “Since… what… Who’s?” Her voice raised a little as she tried figure out which question she would ask out of the thousand that were quickly forming in her head. “M-Mine?”

“No it’s Manny’s you dumbass, yes yours! Who else would it be?” You didn’t mean to snap at her but the silence and the long time it took for her to actually register what you were saying was getting on your nerves and you wanted, no, needed her to say something. To give you some sort of reaction.

Nora lowered her arm and set it at her side, breaking eye contact for just a moment before quickly returning it.

“I… you sure?” Nora’s voice wavered. She could see how glassy your eyes became as you nodded, hesitant.

“It’s been almost three months already and I… I just needed to tell you.” You couldn’t help the tear that fell out of your eye, and Nora quickly wiped it away with her thumb. On instinct, you leaned into her touch.

Once the shock dissipated from her body, Nora dragged her hand down and placed it over your stomach. You placed a hand over hers and squeezed, gaze shifting downwards to avoid looking at her.

“You’re pregnant…” Nora could feel the smile growing on her face. “You’re pregnant! Oh my god!” The happiness in her voice made you look up in shock, only to be met with a kiss as Nora pulled you close. She proceeded to kiss you all over your face, not stopping until you let out a laugh and pushed her gently by her shoulder.

“You… you’re not mad?” You questioned, voice going small as you played with the hair at the nape of her neck.

Nora shook her head, smile never leaving her face. “No. I was just surprised, ‘s all.” She brought your hand up to her lips and kissed your wrist, feeling your pulse beat softly. “I… I always wanted to start a family with you, if I’m being honest.” Nora loved the way your eyes lit up at her confession.

“I’m glad.” You stated, curling your fingers to hold her hand in yours. “I’ve always wanted a baby, and I’m happy I can experience this with you.” You said softly, moving closer to her as she placed her chin on top of your head. You wrapped your arms around her waist and held her, both of you content and excited for the future.

After that, Nora became extremely dedicated to you and your child. You’d spend some nights debating on whether it was a boy or a girl, what it would look like, and who it would take after. Others you’d spend talking to your belly, even though your baby couldn’t hear or respond to either of you. She’d spend hours touching and kissing the stretching skin with the claims that her baby is growing and they would need all the love they could get.

As your belly grew and your options for going outside the base became close to zero, Nora tried her best to work harder and come home earlier, not wanting you to be alone too long. She’d get you anything you need, even if that meant walking to the other side of the stadium at twelve in the morning to get you chilli, something that you seemed to have a strong craving towards as of late. Hell, she even rubs your back and stays with you when you’re having morning sickness, whether she has work or not.

Now you were six months along, belly swollen and laying in bed, waiting for Nora to come back with some extra covers, the winter air doing nothing good for either of you. You had a pillow resting behind you to support your back which always seemed to be hurting, and a hand resting over your ever growing stomach.

The click of your door alerted you to your girl’s return, eyes blinking open to meet hers. She smiled at you, a thick blanket cradled in her hands.

“Hey, baby. I’m sorry I took so long. Everyone kept hounding me about being the godparent again..” Nora let out a small laugh, moving to place the blanket over the bed.

Your friends took the news well, happy and excited that they were about to have a niece or nephew. However, they constantly argued about who would be the godparents of your unborn child, placing bets against each other to win the title.

“Who’s winning this time?” You asked as you watched Nora take off her shoes and climb into bed, taking her place on your left.

“Well, right now Manny and Mel are tied. Manny won a shooting contest against Owen, and Mel won against Abby and Leah by stacking rocks the highest without them falling.” Nora wrapped her an arm around your waist and pulled you until your back was touching her chest. “Should we just choose and get it over with?” Nora questioned, tracing patterns over your stomach like she did so many times before.

“Hmm, nope! I happen to like the chaos.” You said with a smile in your voice.

“So cruel.” Nora whispered in your ear, planting a kiss on your cheek. “Such a bad influence.” She laid back down and held your hand.

“I’m your bad influence, Nora.” You let out a yawn and laid your head on the pillow, settling down comfortably as Nora rubbed your back, drifting off to sleep as she watched over you.

It was about three in the morning when you awoke, a small pressure on your stomach making it very hard to sleep. You tried to ignore the feeling, moving closer to Nora and closing your droopy eyes again, but the pressure was unrelenting. You placed a hand on your stomach, only to retract once you felt something move. You paused for a moment, slowly making contact with your stomach once again, fighting the urge to take your hand away when you felt your stomach flutter again. A yelp escaped you as you felt it happened again, only this time it felt like something was tapping the inside of your stomach. You sat up, Nora shifting at the sudden movement, and moved your hand around as the movement continued.

Was your baby… kicking you?

Your eyebrows furrowed, head quickly snapping towards Nora’s sleeping form. Your other hand shot out, shaking Nora awake as you continued to feel your baby move.

“Nora! Nora, baby, wake up! Hurry, hurry!” You shook her frantically, excitement present in your rising voice. Nora opened her eyes, looking up at you as you called her name again. She sprung up, hands immediately going towards your belly.

“What is it? Something wrong with the baby?” Her eyes darted from you and your stomach, panic setting into her features.

“No, that’s not it.” You shook your head. “I think the baby’s moving. It’s- It’s kicking me, Nora.” You couldn’t help but laugh as Nora quickly retracted her hands, looking at your stomach with worry. You gently grabbed her left hand in yours and slowly moved it until she was touching the place where the baby kicked.

It took a few seconds, but Nora felt it. She felt the soft tap against her hand and it was faint but it was there and Nora felt it. She let out a shaky breath, tears welling up in her eyes as the baby, her baby, kicked her hand again.

“You feel it?” You asked Nora, your smile never ceasing to exist as you placed a hand over hers. Nora nodded, not being able to form words as she stared into your eyes.

“That’s… That’s our baby…” Nora finally spoke, eyes glassy as she felt another tap on her hand. “Our baby’s kickin…”

Nothing felt more real in Nora’s life than this moment with you. Before this, it felt like a dream. A really peaceful dream where you and her were starting a family and were gonna spend the rest of your life together. It was a dream that Nora never wanted to wake up from. But this? This was real. This was happening and soon, so very soon, the both of you would be parents. You both would hold that child in your arms and nurture them and watch them grow into someone you both would be proud of. She couldn’t wait for those days to come.

But for now, Nora settled with feeling her baby greet and respond to her with kicks and little movements.

She wouldn’t have it any other way.

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dessarious · 4 years

Text

The Angel of Death Pt12

Inspired by this Story Starter by @someone-ev

AO3 Prologue Beginning Previous Next

Every action the man took made Marinette question both his sanity and apparent luck. First he gave her his real name, at least the one he went by currently, so she’d be able to find out anything about him connected to that. Then he brought her to his home. He showed a trained assassin where he sleeps for crying out loud! And just when she thought it couldn’t get worse, he actually showed her when the rest of the Miraculous were.

“Have you completely taken leave of your senses?” He had the audacity to grin at her. “For all you know I could have sent Tikki to arrange that meeting in order to get information about where the rest of the jewelry was and now you’re just handing them to me on a silver platter! How are you even still alive?” This was beyond frustrating. How was she supposed to learn anything from someone who was nothing but an easy target?

“You told me that Tikki wanted the meeting, not you.” He was giving her a calm smile and his tone was completely unconcerned.

“People lie.” She knew her tone was flat but she couldn’t help it.

“Yes, but you don’t.” He said it with certainty and she opened her mouth to argue before she realized he was right. She was many things, a killer, a hacker, a thief when necessary, but she rarely interacted with people and she never lied. Not even about who she was technically. Everyone chose to believe certain things and she didn’t correct them, but she couldn’t ever remember actually lying.

“How do you know that?” He wasn’t guessing, she was certain of it. The real question was whether it was an inborn trait of perception, or something granted from use of the Miraculous. She’d have to ask the Kwami because she had a feeling he wasn’t going to give her a straight answer.

“It’s in the way you move and speak. Everything about you practically screams it. Well, that and pain.” Yeah, she definitely wasn’t getting a real answer. She let out a tired sigh. “I think it’s past time for bed after all the excitement. Come, I’ll show you where you can sleep.”

“I can just go back to the hotel.” The look he shot her made her think he knew she’d already checked out, even though that wasn’t possible.

“No need. You’ll have to get comfortable here if you wish to train with me and I assure you my spare room is far more comfortable than any hotel bed.” She frowned at the reminder and once again debated what exactly she was doing here. Yes, the Miraculous were far too dangerous to be left unguarded but for all his apparent ineptness, only two had managed to escape Wang Fu’s grasp. There had to be more to him than she could see. And if that was the case then perhaps it would be useful to stay.

“Just as long as you understand that I’ll have to be away for lengths of time for my business. I’m sure you don’t want the unwanted attention that could come if I were to give it up.” She wasn’t sure why she was being so cryptic other than habit. He knew what she was so it was technically a safe conversation unless his house was bugged. She’d have to check for that in the morning. She watched him wrinkle his nose in distaste.

“I will not stop you, though I hope in time to convince you that it isn’t necessary. For now I understand, to a point, why you must continue.” Great, that just meant that this was going to be a recurring argument as long as she stayed. Perhaps it would be best to rent out her own space so she’d have somewhere to retreat to if he refused to see reason.

The room he showed her to was small, bordering on cramped, but it had a cozy feel to it she wasn’t used to. She generally had to stay in less than hospitable environments where people would overlook her age for money. It had a window so there was at least an escape route other than going through the main part of the building. Overall it wasn’t too bad of a set up.

“There’s a closet there, though you don’t seem to have much to put in it.” He eyed her one bag dubiously but she ignored it. She traveled light and bought what she needed for missions on sight. There were a lot of reasons for that. No steady suppliers meant she was harder to trace. There were very few things she considered a necessity other than weapons and those she had on her person at all times. Other than that all she really had were a set of normal clothes and her laptop. Everything else was unnecessary and slowed her down or was a distraction. Either of those things could get her killed.

“Thank you. The room is more than adequate.” He frowned at her and she reviewed her words and tone. She couldn’t find anything wrong with them so just waited for his criticism.

“It is my goal to make you feel at home here so don’t hesitate to tell me if you need anything.” She just blinked at him in confusion. She was perfectly capable of getting anything she needed.

“It is unwise to become too comfortable. It makes you sloppy and careless.’ And there was that look again. Pity mixed with curiosity as though she was a particularly interesting and sad puzzle he needed to figure out. She would never understand why such a common sense statement provoked that kind of response.

“I suppose you are right. Think of it like an undercover assignment then. I’ll tell everyone my great niece is staying with me and it would help if you appeared to be a semi normal teenager. That means having a room that doesn’t look like you’re three seconds from bolting out the window.” While she was less than thrilled with the idea, she had to admit he wasn’t wrong.

AO3 Prologue Beginning Previous Next

Ko-Fi

Tag List

@kceedraws @theatreandcomicfreak @krispydefendorpolice @magic-miraculous @chocolatecatstheron @mooshoon @northernbluetongue @interobanginyourmom @rebecarojas07 @dast218 @abrx2002 @damianette-is-life @yin-390 @fontegagrilledcheese @bigpicklebananatree @tbehartoo @nobodyw8s4evr @linim2503 @ladybug-182 @marinettepotterandplagg @daminett4life @thethirdwheelfriend @corabeth11 @emotionalsupportginger @shizukiryuu @toodaloo-kangaroo @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @hauntedfreakdeputyhero @sassakitty @my-name-is-michell @multplelifes @sassydepression @danielslilangel @winter-gardenflower @animegirlweeb @romanoff-queen @nanakeid @paradoxal-occurance @theg0ddesspersephone @hinata3487 @irontimetravelflower @the-real-gingakid @heaven428 @peachedpocky @justafanwarrior @gentlemanoftimetravel @18-fandoms-unite-08 @kittycatwowmeow @pale-lady-dreamer @i-is-mysterious @captainartsypants @write-for-your-life2 @queengeorgiaaa @schrodingers25 @thecaptainthunder @elspethshadow @stela-likes-drawing @loysydark @lozzybowe @renscorpio @elmokingkong @the-fusionist @tis-i-beanbandit @smolplantmum

#maribat #marinette dupen chang #assassin mari #kidnapped au

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astraguardian · 4 years

Text

Fair Game Parallels

Since there’s still debate over whether Clover and Qrow were meant to be romantically-coded, I’ve decided to make a list of the times that Fair Game paralleled either a) scenes that the fandom largely considers flirt or romantic-coded, or b) scenes between pairings that are either romantic in-canon or heavily implied. Note that this doesn’t cover every interaction in detail, since it’s focused on the parallels specifically.

In animation, every small detail matters. Someone chose to include that expression, to have the character make that gesture, or to frame a show in a certain way. CRWBY is aware of this. We’ve even heard about some of the small changes they made to scenes this volume to ensure the proper tone came across. So, for this analysis, all of those small details are, no pun intended, fair game.

(TW for blood and death)

1) Lucky you

In volume 4, we had a scene where a waitress very clearly flirts with Qrow. She winks at him, we get a joke about his semblance, and he grins back at her. Pretty straightforward, which is what makes it a great scene to parallel.

Here we have Clover saying the same “lucky you” line as the waitress, also accompanied by a wink. Right before this line, he also gives Qrow a look that’s suspiciously similar to Qrow’s reaction to the waitress. We also know from Kim Newman, who worked as an animator for RWBY up to Volume 7 Episode 9, that CRWBY were well aware of this parallel, with Kim even making a joke about the implications.

Even ignoring the obvious parallel, the line comes across as flirtatious. While some people have suggested it was a bit of banter between friends, Qrow and Clover weren’t friends at this point. In fact, it had been established to both the audience and Clover that Qrow wasn’t all that excited to be working with him.

There was no friendship between the two at this point and suggesting that the wink was an act of friendship largely misses the context of the interaction.

2) Staring

RWBY’s particularly fond of using the eyes to add subtext for both Bumbleby and Fair Game, to the point that this parallel is just the first of three involving character’s eyes. This Fair Game scene, while not focusing on Qrow’s eyes, uses his gaze to add subtext. The first thing to note is that Qrow didn’t need to be in this shot. He has no dialogue in this exchange, he’s really only there for Clover. In this shot, Clover explains how Ace-Ops are picked to perfectly complement each other. And, as we were shown previously, Clover is the only Ace-Op without a partner. Qrow’s in the scene to indicate that he’s the perfect complement for Clover. It’s also worth pointing out that despite having started off cold towards Clover in the previous episode, so likely no more than an hour before in-universe, Qrow gazes warmly at Clover not once, but three times during this shot, while also mirroring Clover’s stance the entire time.

3) Reacting to a compliment

In episode 3, we see Blake reacting to Yang complimenting her arm by putting a hand behind her head bashfully. Only two episodes later, we see Qrow do the same movement upon receiving a compliment from Clover. Qrow’s reaction didn’t need to mirror Blake’s. There are other ways they could have had him react, but they chose to parallel a character receiving a compliment from their romantic interest.

4) Truck scene

We have two scenes in the back of a truck where we get to see characters having quiet, but important conversations. Our scene with Bumbleby shows the couple trying to figure out what they think is right, while our scene with Fair Game has Qrow talk about his sobriety for the first time and get a much needed compliment from Clover. These scenes show the characters in their most open state, with Blake questioning if Yang and her had done the right thing in dealing with Adam, and Qrow getting the chance to discuss his feelings about everything that’s happened in the past volume or so.

5) Banter

Two scenes of lighthearted banter, and the first of several parallels to the scene in volume 6 where Blake leaves Yang to take out the radar.

6) Staring after the other looks away

We’re back to eyes again, this time looking at how characters’ stares tend to linger on their love interest, even after the other turns away. The Bumbleby scene has some good shots of this, but it’s a personal favorite of Qrow’s. Volume 7 makes a point to show us how often Qrow stares at Clover even when Clover’s turned away, and how it almost always tends to last several seconds longer than it needs to. Episode 8 stands out, with Qrow not only watching Clover walk away after their banter, but continuing to stare at the door he had gone through even after it was closed. He only looks away after being spoken to by a waiter. Seeing as prolonged gazes, both in-universe and outside of it, are associated with love, it sends strong implications.

7) Fond Looks

The last parallel to the volume 6 Bumbleby scene is especially strong. Yang’s expression as she watches Blake, who she clearly cares deeply for, walk away, is practically identical to Qrow’s after he watches Clover show off for him. RWBY has already established this expression as one of warmth and love, and they chose to put it on Qrow for his moment with Clover.

8) Even the villains see it

When the Bees fight Adam, there’s a moment where he looks between them before remarking on their relationship. In the fight against Tyrian, we watch Tyrian, who had previously been focused on Qrow, look over at Clover and then back to Qrow, before moving to attack Clover. The scene clearly establishes that it’s Clover he’s looking at, as Clover is in the center of the light while Robyn is off to the side, and while Robyn barely moves, Clover is seen adjusting his weapon and turning to face Tyrian. We’ve already established that Tyrian is a serial killer and Qrow’s the victim who got away, so why would Tyrian change targets and give Qrow that look? Tyrian’s decided that the best way to hurt Qrow would be instead to hurt Clover.

9) Tyrian/Adam fight

Two dynamic shots of characters attacking a villain who personally wronged by, followed by a shot of their partner helping them deal the blow. While Clover isn’t also attacking in this case, he’s the one holding Tyrian in place so that Qrow can deal the blow.

10) Art style of violent scene

This art style is only used twice in the show proper (once in the Black trailer), and both cases involve someone watching their partner suffer brutal violence at their expense. It’s worth pointing out that Qrow is actually much more emphasized in his scene than Blake is in hers, even though Blake’s scene features her abuser hurting her love interest. Blake could even be missed in her scene, with her silhouette not standing out much with the position she’s in. Qrow, on the other hand, has almost as much focus as Clover and Tyrian. The scene is capturing both Clover’s death and Qrow’s despair as he watches helplessly.

11) Mementos

We take a quick break from Bumbleby parallels for an extremely strong Arkos parallel. In volume 7 episode 3, we get a shot of Jaune holding the fabric from Pyrrha’s sash in his hands. Ten episodes later, we get the same shot, except now it’s Qrow with Clover’s pin. It’s a particularly easy callback to pick up on, seeing as it’s framed the same way. Qrow’s mourning is shown to mirror Jaune mourning Pyrrha, his canon love interest.

12) Fear of growing close to someone

It’ll be just like Beacon again. Following the events of volume 3, Blake separates herself from the rest of the group, believing she’s no longer worthy of anyone’s love. In the next volume she explains, “Everyone thinks they can help me, but they can’t. You saw Ilia last night and she’s not even the worst! No. No more. They’re better off without me. I made my choices and I’ll deal with the consequences because they belong to me.” That sounds painfully familiar to another character who watched someone they cared for get hurt in a stylized scene which they blamed themself for. Blake runs, feeling like she brings harm to those she’s close to. From Blake’s perspective, volume 3 proved her worst fears to be true. Now we’re at volume 7 and Qrow’s in the same situation. He’s separated himself from the group, choosing to go into custody instead of finding his nieces, and he clearly blames himself for what has happened. And in time, Qrow might get to parallel Blake’s recovery.

Feel free to add any parallels you think I missed, but please refrain from arguing on this post. I’m looking to share evidence, not to debate.

#fair game #rwby #qrow branwen #clover ebi #clover deserved better #blood tw #death tw #long post

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roachmattea · 3 years

Text

dawn jolly snippet!!

(Holly’s pov)

putting a cut because it’s mildly long and i don’t want to clutter up anyone’s dash!!!

With my back pressed against the brick wall in the dark alleyway and dark-wolf (Alisha’s wolves) bites on my shoulder, side, and legs, my only thought is, I kinda want a frozen lemonade right now.

I grimace. I stuff my hands into my jacket pockets-looking for some kind of healing juice or something--and find a small white card. It’s stained with blood (mine), but I can still read the address, and the message scrawled to the side: 2 hour date truce! -j.p.

I run through a map of the city in my mind. The closest entrance to my kingdom is 10 blocks away. The address is only one.

Well, I think. what do I have to lose?

I make my way to J.P Ross’s house, or evil headquarters, or whatever. Anything is better than a dark alleyway splattered with wolf-and-dawn-queen blood.

When I find the small house tucked into an unassuming suburban neighbourhood, I'm a little surprised. For a second I wonder: What if he wrote down the wrong address, and I show up, covered in blood, and a hand aglow so I can see (the streetlights are broken), on the doorstep of a random middle class family?

I shake my head. This is J.P Ross, criminal mastermind. He knows his own address.

I knock twice with a glowing fist.

The door opens, and he stands in the doorway, brown hair mussed, shirt unbuttoned at the collar, holding a glass of wine. His eyes widen when he sees me, bloody and shivering, on his doorstep.

He seems at a loss for words, but puts his wine glass down, and touches the bite on my shoulder. “...Holly Dawn?”

I can barely stand. I need to make him understand, to make him not kill me on the spot. I hold out the blood-stained white truce card. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

And then I collapse into the arms of my worst enemy.

When I wake, it’s by a fire, with a quilt around me, and a dull pain in my head. “...J.P?”

He is sitting beside me on a couch, dabbing at the wound on my shoulder. “Hello, Your Highness.” His smirk reminds me of Ryan’s when he teases Miranda.

I shake my head. It’s a mistake. Fuzzy spots cloud my vision. I turn to J.P.

“What did you give me? Some sort of sedative drug?”

“Nope. It’s just the Livis’s bites. They weaken Xonarians, especially Tallion’s. It’s a wonder you made it all the way here without passing out. How far away were you? Why didn’t you call your friends or something?”

I try to reach into my pocket, realizing I don't have my jacket on anymore. J.P seems to notice what I’m looking for, and holds up my jacket.

“Check the pockets,” I say.

He reaches into the left pocket, and pulls out my phone. The screen is shattered, and there’s a bullet hole clean through the middle (the MTT had killed a few of the wolves; I'd gotten caught in the crossfire.) He mouths, Oh.

I roll my eyes, and mouth back Yeah.

He smirks again. I have an uncontrollable urge to smack him, and I feel like I understand Miranda a little better now. He looks too annoying, smirking like that. And too cute.

What am I talking about?

J.P puts my broken phone on the coffee table. “You can have some screen time if you want,”

I really am about to smack him now, but a loud whistling noise stops me.

“J.P!” a voice yells from upstairs. J.P and I both tense. It’s Silentina, J.P’s niece. “That’s the kettle! Can you make me some lemon tea?”

“Uh, yeah! Just a second!” He turns to me, and his face is panicked.

“Can you stand?” he whispers. “No!” I whisper back.

“J.P?” Silentina calls. “Everything okay?”

“Fine!”

Without warning, he picks me up bridal-style, and when I squeak - out of pain and surprise - he presses a finger to my lips.

“She can’t know you’re here,” he murmured. I nodded, eyes wide. “Good.”

He carries me to a bland bedroom and places me gently on the bed. “Not a sound,” He reminds me.

I nod as he closes the door and heads back to make Silentina her tea.

I sit up on the bed and wince. My back is sore from sitting for so long. I want to turn some lights on, but that would alert Silentina of my presence. So I settled for curling my hands into a cup, and letting a small glimmer of gold bounce around in my hand.

J.P didn’t kill me when I was unconscious in his home. I, the hero, his enemy, had come to him, and basically begged him to help me. And he did.

What a strange villain.

Maybe he’s not your villain, a little voice whispers in my mind. I tell it to shut up. The voice sounds a lot like Miranda.

“You’re going out?” That’s J.P’s voice from the kitchen. I squeeze my hand, and listen.

“Yup.” That’s Silentina. “Going to be a teenager for a bit. Maybe see a movie. You don’t mind if I take a break from building, do you?” Building what?

“No, not at all. Have fun.”

“Mm, now I'm going to try as hard as I can not to.”

I can practically hear J.P rolling his eyes. “Okay, great to know. Bye!”

“Bye!”

I hear footsteps, and then the doorknob clicks, and J.P enters the room he put me in.

“Light,” he commands, and for a second i think he’s talking to me, and it’s a nickname or something, but no, he’s talking to the room.

Beautiful, golden light floods the gloomy room, and hundreds of systems come to life; projections, holograms, you name it.

I push my hand through a hologram of the Hex logo. It dawns (ha ha) on me.

“This is your room.”

“Yeah. So?”

“That’s...kinda weird.”

“Why?”

“Um...I’m your greatest enemy-”

He cuts me off. “Actually, i think my greatest enemy is the cashier at Tim Hortons who gave me a raspberry frozen lemonade instead of the original.”

“What’s Tim Hortons?”

He stares at me incredulously. “You know all those frozen lemonades I bring you every time we fight?”

He mentioned our...rivalry so casually. I find it hard to speak. “Yeah.”

“Those are from Tim Hortons.”

The answer doesn’t satisfy me, but I don't push.

He sits on his bed next to me. He smells like lemons.

“Wanna watch a movie?”

I’m not sure I heard him correctly. “You...and me...watching a movie? In your house?”

He shrugs. “With your wounds, you won’t be able to move on your own until tomorrow.”

I sit up suddenly, and regret it when a sharp stab of pain brings tears to my eyes. “Tomorrow?”

“Mmhm.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was.”

I slump backwards. J.P presses a button, and a TV rises out of a table. “What do you wanna watch?”

J.P and I are about 15 minutes into (insert disney movie here), when I decide to lean my head against his shoulder and wrap my outside arm around his torso. He stiffens as I touch him, but relaxes soon after.

“Holly,” J.P asked hesitantly. “Do you think that we...that our people...could ever live like this?” he motions to me and him, curled beside each other, watching a movie, bathed in a soft golden glow.

I tilt my head to look into his eyes. “Like...in peace?” I ask.

He nods.

I sigh. “I don’t know.”

He nods again, as if he expected that answer. We lie in silence for the rest of the movie, occasionally debating certain plot points, and screaming “Movie logic!” at the screen whenever something cliche happened (i.e: characters running (making an escape, usually), only to realize that the ground ends in a cliff, and the characters almost slip and fall, but don’t, and a few rocks tumble down the cliff).

When the movie ends, I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here with J.P and talk about whether it was realistic when (movie plot point insert).

But I can’t.

And he knows it.

He leaves me to sleep in his room, and turns out the lights before I can even say goodnight.

I blink in the darkness. J.P’s words are stuck in my head. My stubborn brain repeats them over, and over, even (and especially) when I scream at myself to stop.

Could we ever live in peace?

I had answered him truthfully, I think. I don’t know.

But my mind seemed to know what I wanted. I had always been an active daydreamer, after all. My dad said it was one of my best qualities.

It is your greatest strength, Holly. To see things that other people don’t. I can see his face, as he tucks my grown-out bangs out of my face. The memory was from years ago. I could smell the sea in his hair and on his skin, and heard his laugh when he picked me up and spun me around. Possibilities. Not everyone can find the dove in a sea of ravens. Hope and peace, in a world of death and destruction. You can. I know you can, my little sunrise.

I let myself imagine a perfect world. Where the Hex and Dawn work together, in peace. J.P and I would lead them, and we could go back home. To Xonar.

I fall asleep to dreams of doves and ravens.

tagging the tflc gang hope i’m not bothering you oop

@enbies-and-felonies @that-aro-asshat @clearlykeefitz @duchessmb @book-limerence @silver-snow @pencil-is-my-sword @alienlamp @cozy-the-overlord @ademonwithinternet @linhamon-roll

#i had to put all of the italics in after because they didn't transfer from docs #so there are probably some mistakes #xonar-verse #xonar-verse dawn #jollyyyy #holly x j.p #animal bite tw #tw animal bites

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notapaladin · 3 years

Text

we are all walking each other home

Did anyone order plotless summer family fluff by the pool with snow cones? No? Too bad, that’s all I got. In which Acatl and Teomitl and their family have a good day.

Also on AO3!

If the young and devastatingly attractive Revered Speaker of Tenochtitlan wanted to invite his Imperial Consort’s close family to the palace to stave off the heat of the rainy season in his gardens and pools, none of them were going to gainsay him—especially not Acatl. Though his obligations nagged at him, he could set them down for a few hours to spend time with his brother and sisters. It would be nice to simply rest for once; Teomitl insisted it was the least he deserved.

Though I’m not sure how restful this is going to be, he thought. The gardens Teomitl had inherited from his predecessors were certainly lovely enough, all lush greenery and tiled fountains, even if they couldn’t measure up to his lover’s dreams for his own under-construction palace across the Sacred Precinct from Acatl’s temple. If they’d been left alone to walk the paths and stretch out under the trees, Acatl imagined he’d find it comfortable enough. But they weren’t alone, and that made all the difference. He was glad to have mended his relationship with his other sisters, he loved his nieces and nephews to distraction, but all of them together in the same space was...

“Ollin, stop running by the water! You’ll fall!”

“So then I said to Citlalli, I said...”

“And nobody’s offered for you yet, Coaxoch? Why, when I was your age—”

“Auntie!”

...Well. It was a lot.

He’d claimed a seat at the farthest end of one of the intricately dyed reed mats Teomitl had had spread out, watching the chaos unfold from under the shade of a sprawling tree. Ollin had not stopped running; he and a few of his similarly aged cousins had all gotten into what appeared to be an impromptu game of tag with Acatl’s dog Miton, who was yipping up a delighted storm and wagging his tail so fast it was an orange-tipped blur. His sisters Nelli and Icnoyotl had shown up gossiping about something someone’s brother had done and hadn’t so much as paused for breath since, with their husbands providing increasingly colorful—and increasingly loud—commentary. Mihmatini, enormously pregnant, had lowered herself into the waist-deep pool nearby and kept dropping down to dunk her entire body underwater in a way that suggested she was trying to either muffle her nephews’ shrieking or grow gills, whichever happened first. And Teomitl?

Teomitl was in his element. He’d shed all his finery save for the emerald piercing his septum—still too new to be removed so soon in the healing process—but he didn’t need any, not with the way he was crouched down and beaming at Nelli’s fourth daughter showing him a bug she’d caught. It could have melted a stone; Acatl’s heart didn’t stand a chance. He knew he was smiling helplessly, knew his adoration would be clear to anyone so much as sparing him a passing glance, but just then he didn’t care. I love you. I love you. You’re going to be a wonderful father.

“My lords!”

A few of his family members twitched. Nobody except Teomitl seemed to think that the servants carrying trays loaded with bowls of compacted mountain snow and pitchers of fruit juice were talking to them; he, meanwhile, sprang up and announced, “Ices for everyone! Excellent, set them down just there.”

“We get ice?!” That was Nelli’s daughter, her voice rising in a delighted shriek.

“You get ice,” Mihmatini informed her, accepting Teomitl’s arm to heave herself out of the pool with a grunt. “Eat it before it melts.”

Nobody quite swarmed the trays—they were all too polite or too overawed by the match their Mihmatini had made—but there was a general purposeful drift in that direction. Even Teomitl’s gray-and-white hound Ehecatzin slunk over hopefully to try to steal some; when one of Acatl’s brothers-in-law nudged him away, he settled for being scratched behind the ears. Miton, more singleminded, had to be ordered to sit. Acatl watched, finding himself disinclined to move. It was true that snow carried down from the mountains was a treat reserved for those of imperial blood or imperial alliances, especially on such a hot day, but he didn’t really feel like inserting himself into the crowd when everyone was debating fruit toppings.

Eventually, Teomitl padded over with a bowl in each hand, stretching out his long legs as he sat down. It was closer than he ought to be with so many eyes around them, but once again Acatl found he couldn’t really mind. Not when Teomitl was quirking up a smile as he set down a bowl of pineapple-drenched ice for him.

“Brought you some,” he said quietly. Not that he needed to keep his voice down; there was no way to put two dogs and over a dozen people in one space and not have it be loud enough to drown out any conversation they might have. Still, Acatl appreciated the discretion.

He picked up the bowl, noting that Teomitl’s own was the violently pink shade only pitaya fruit juice could give. The runners were fast and the ice had been stored well; it was still cold enough to chill his fingers through the clay. “I would have gotten up.”

“You looked comfortable.” There was another of those soft, sunny smiles, and he couldn’t help smiling in return.

“Mm. So did you.” His lover was always at his best in a friendly crowd, laughing and joking until his family saw past the jade and turquoise to the man beneath. All that energy needed a purpose. Rather like our dogs, he mused, but he knew better than to ever say that out loud even if they did all share a tendency to snore.

Teomitl shifted a little closer, so that they almost touched. The fingers of his free hand twitched as though he wanted to twine them with Acatl’s own. “I’m more comfortable here.”

Then he licked at his half-melted cup of snow, erasing all chances of Acatl managing to reply. The fruit juice was staining his lips and tongue; though he was graceful as he usually was when eating, a drop clung to the corner of his mouth and Acatl itched to brush it away. He didn’t. He wasn’t sure he could move. Teomitl made a soft noise of pure pleasure that sent a lightning surge of want through his veins, and he couldn’t look away. “Ngh.”

Teomitl cast a glance at him from under lowered lashes, lips curving in a wicked smile. “Hm?”

They couldn’t possibly be any more in public. Taking a deep breath, he wrenched his mind away from memories of what that tongue could do. “Nothing.”

Teomitl hummed, smugly pleased with himself, and motioned to their bowls. “Have some. It’s good.”

He studied his bowl for a moment before trying it; there were chunks of fruit as well as juice, cold and sweet enough to make his teeth hurt. The pain was well worth it, because it was delicious. He let his eyes slide closed as he ate, focusing on the sensations around him—the warmth of the sun through dappled shade, the chill of the ice on his tongue, the tingling awareness of Teomitl’s body next to his, the happy chatter of his nieces and nephews and siblings. He caught slivers of conversation too, Necalli’s first campaign and Nelli’s recipe for washing blood from dyed cotton mingling in his ears. His heart felt like a tiny sun.

This is what makes life living. He inhaled, breathing in the scents of fruit and crushed grass and warm water. The flowers, the jade. Mihmatini was right.

Eventually, all the ice was gone. He was aware of his siblings’ conversations around him; two of his brothers-in-law were discussing the weather with the grave importance it deserved, while his sisters were discussing Mihmatini’s pregnancy with a frankness that was turning Icnoyotl’s always-squeamish husband Chimalli slightly green. The children, unsurprisingly, were the first to throw themselves back into the water; Neutemoc and Chimalli were next, theoretically to keep an eye on them but actually to tow the smallest ones around in the water while they screeched with joy. Teomitl, still eyeing the remains of his ice as though there might possibly be some fruit left, actually set the bowl down and perked up at the sight.

Acatl nudged him. “Go on, help them corral the flock. It’ll be good practice for you.”

Teomitl’s smile was a little crooked, a little helpless, and terribly endearing. “I hope the baby gets along with its cousins.”

“They’ll certainly have plenty of options,” he replied dryly. Between Neutemoc’s five and all his sisters’ spawn, Teomitl’s child would have over a dozen cousins to play with by the time it was born. As always when he thought of it, he sent a brief mental prayer to the gods for Mihmatini’s continued health. She’s the Guardian of the Sacred Precinct. The Imperial Consort of the Revered Speaker. And she’d have my head for fretting over her.

“...They will.” Now the smile was wistful. “Your family is wonderful.”

He nudged him a little harder. “Our family. Or did you forget you chose this?”

Mihmatini was sliding back into the pool, and Teomitl’s eyes followed her for a moment. His fingers just barely grazed the back of Acatl’s hand. “Hmm. I did choose this, didn’t I?”

Then Teomitl left his side and plunged into the water, and he realized that he had perhaps miscalculated.

His lover was always beautiful, whether he was in a warrior’s armor or all the gold and feathers of his office. Even in the plainest clothing, the curve of his cheekbones and the brightness of his smile could take Acatl’s breath away. He’d thought, with the years they’d been together, that nothing could surprise him anymore.

Duality preserve him, he was wrong. He’d never seen Teomitl like this—all rippling water and rippling muscle, laughing and shaking water from his hair as Mihmatini splashed him playfully and Ollin clung whooping to his arm. Droplets hung sparkling in the sunlight like stars, running in rivulets down the well-sculpted lines of his chest and stomach. Surrounded by water—surrounded by family, head flung back in brilliant careless joy—he was more magnificent than he’d been at his coronation. Acatl had just eaten, but he felt as hungry as Toci. I love you. The words beat in tune with his heart. I want you.

Every line of his body felt like a taut bowstring, but he couldn’t move. If he moved, he was going to do something stupid.

Neutemoc’s voice snapped him out of his trance. His brother leaned on his elbows at the edge of the pool, water dripping off him onto the tiles, and flashed him a tired grin. “I’m sweating just looking at you, Acatl. Join us!”

“Nhm,” he managed.

Teomitl lowered Ollin back into the water and gave Acatl a grin of his own. “Please?”

Well, it was hot. But he was still strangely reluctant to move, and it took a long moment before he could stand up, stretch well enough that something in his back stopped complaining, and amble over to the water. The sun hadn’t warmed it as much as he thought; when he slid down into it, he had to clench his teeth at the chill. For a while he simply stood next to his brother, watching their family play.

Neutemoc elbowed him. “See? Told you it was better in the water.”

He nodded. True, they were surrounded by bright flowers and screaming life, but it was...peaceful, here. It reminded him of his childhood, before their father had died and everything had started to go so wrong. No. He shook his head, banishing that line of thought. Today had been wonderful so far, and that was how it would stay. He was standing in cool, clear water with a belly full of delicious food and his family around him. His nieces had roped Teomitl into some sort of splash-based war that involved a great deal of high-pitched giggling on all sides, whereas his older nephews were skipping the splashing in favor of an impromptu and very messy wrestling match. He was on the sidelines, content to observe.

And then someone’s errant flailing limb sprayed him with a fine mist, and he jolted out of his reverie.

“Sorry!” Teomitl called. It would have sounded much more sincere if he wasn’t grinning.

“Hrmph,” he grumbled, closing his eyes. He knew he was failing at suppressing his own smile, and Teomitl must be able to see it.

The peace of his immediate surroundings didn’t last long. The sounds of splashing water grew louder and closer, and his nieces’ shrieks took on the sort of gleeful pitch he associated with trouble. Oh no.

That was all the warning he got before a gout of water arced down and drenched him completely. He yelped, inhaling water, and as he coughed and spluttered and caught his breath he decided that someone was about to be in deep trouble. Grimacing, he scraped his hair back from his face, blinked water out of his eyes, and looked around for the perpetrator.

The unrepentant perpetrator. “You looked hot?”

He took a deep breath and leveled a glare at his lover. “Teomitl.”

“Ah,” Teomitl began.

And then Acatl taught him one of the benefits of growing up with a brother close in age. Namely, when you had someone who was willing and able to throw you into the nearest body of water at any opportunity, you got very good at fighting back in kind. He pushed off from the wall, wading rapidly towards him; before Teomitl could scramble out of range, Acatl’s arm came up to splash him in the face. “You asked for this!”

Teomitl danced out of the way, a grin splitting his face, and wasted no time splashing Acatl back. “Is it war, then?!”

It was war. Their nieces and nephews joined in, splashing both of them indiscriminately; Acatl reeled under the onslaught, but managed to stay on his feet no matter the weight of his wet hair. Teomitl was stronger than he was, but unused to fighting such a battle. It was easy to back him against the edge of the pool. And then the dogs, wanting to be a part of the fun, plunged into the water in a cacophony of howls and a storm of wagging tails, and he had to stagger back as Miton all but flopped on top of him.

“Bad dog—ack!” Opening his mouth was a mistake, for Teomitl took advantage of his distraction to splash his face again. He glared at his lover through the curtain of his dripping hair.

Teomitl took one look at his face and his eyes went wide; Acatl had a moment of satisfaction before his lover ducked sideways, dodging behind a very surprised Necalli. “Protect me!”

Just as quickly, Necalli darted out of the way. “My lord uncle, you are on your own.”

Teomitl was the furthest thing from a coward, but evidently he had learned when discretion was to be the better part of valor. He turned and waded rapidly for the far edge of the pool.

“Get back here--!”

Teomitl laughed brightly. “You’ll have to catch me first, Acatl!”

Oh, so that’s how it is. Feeling his face split into an unaccustomed grin, Acatl ran after him. Teomitl was younger, faster, and in better shape; but when he heaved himself out of the water and took off down the path, Acatl wasn’t too far behind. As he ran, he realized he didn’t have a plan, but he didn’t need one; it was a beautiful summer day, his blood was pumping, and he was alive. That was all that mattered. Teomitl swerved around a densely-flowered shrub, and he followed.

Whoever had planned the layout of the palace gardens had desired privacy; it was darker and quieter here, the chaos of the pool muffled by the greenery. Anything beyond that Acatl didn’t have a chance to absorb, however, because Teomitl was grabbing him and pulling him into a hot, hungry kiss.

Oh.

That was the last coherent thought he had for a while. His mind was full of Teomitl—of the heat of his wet skin, the strength of the arms around him, the way he still tasted of pitaya juice and mountain snow. One hand settled at his waist; the other slid up into his hair, burying into the thick strands until a soft growl of pleasure reverberated through them both. His body knew just what to do, arching to press himself even closer, and when he dug his nails into Teomitl’s back he was rewarded with a whine. If he didn’t need to breathe, he could have kissed him for hours.

When Teomitl pulled away, mouth red and eyes glittering with desire, he whispered, “I missed you. I’ve been wanting to do that all day.”

He wasn’t the only one. But before he could say that, a calloused hand slid down his spine, and Acatl sucked in a hard breath at the way Teomitl’s hips pressed against his own. His blood was still up, but now all that simmering energy was alert to a new purpose. “It’s only been a few hours.”

Teomitl’s expression turned wicked as that hand reached his ass, giving it a lingering squeeze. “And? You’re irresistable.”

Perhaps there was the occasional downside to having such a young and enthusiastic lover, he thought. Out loud, he huffed, “The children will hear us.”

“They’re playing with the dogs.”

The barking, splashing, and cheering ringing through the gardens were loud enough to muffle them—if they were careful. Still, Acatl bit his lip and shook his head. Children were one thing; his nosy sisters were another thing entirely. “My siblings will hear us.”

Teomitl scowled lightly at that. “Am I Revered Speaker or not?”

“Teomitl!” he hissed.

The scowl vanished as though it had never been. Teomitl lowered his head to nuzzle at Acatl’s throat, voice so soft it was almost inaudible. Any sweetness was tempered by the way he drew his nails lightly up the column of Acatl’s spine, hard enough to sting pleasantly but not enough to leave a mark. As his lover’s lips moved against his skin, Acatl shivered. “We’ll be quiet.”

It was tempting. Gods, it was tempting. Teomitl kissed him again, long and slow, and he felt his resolve weakening. His family could entertain themselves for a few minutes, surely. Half an hour. He would prefer more time—would prefer to give Teomitl his full attention all night—but he wasn’t a fool to turn down what was so freely offered. The breeze was cold in the shade, but that didn’t matter when his lover was so warm in his arms, the slide of skin on skin setting his blood on fire. “Mmm...”

“Come on,” Teomitl breathed, and shifted to press a thigh between his legs. Acatl found himself wishing briefly and desperately that they’d have the forethought to hide against something solid, but then Teomitl was mouthing at his throat and he wasn’t thinking anything at all.

“Nngh...” At any other time, he might have been embarrassed at the whine that escaped him, but shame was very far away at the moment. His self-control was hanging only be a few very thin threads, and only the din of his family gathering not nearly far enough away was keeping it in place. We could. They’re having fun without us; they won’t be looking for us yet. But...

But they could. Of course Mihmatini knew, and he was almost sure that Neutemoc did as well, though of course they’d never discussed it beyond the most vague assurances that yes, he was perfectly happy—but his other sisters were clueless, and the thought of their reactions if they discovered him in Teomitl’s arms was enough to turn his bones to ice. Reluctantly, he panted, “No. We shouldn’t.”

Teomitl sighed and pulled back, but he kept Acatl within the circle of his arms as though he couldn’t bear to let him go. “I hate when you’re reasonable.”

“No, you don’t,” he murmured fondly.

When Acatl lifted a hand to cup his cheek, Teomitl tilted his head into it with a faint stirring of a smile. “...No, I don’t.”

There was a particularly loud splash from the direction of the pool, and Acatl winced. “Let’s get back before they wonder where we’ve gone.”

“Mm.” With one final caress, Teomitl let him go. “Alright.”

Later, there would be dinner; later, there would be dancers and musicians to entertain them. Later, he and Teomitl would be properly alone. But for now, they would bask in the warmth of their family and the bonds they’d made.

#obsidian and blood #acatl #teomitl #mihmatini #neutemoc #teocatl #mihmitl #neutemoc's brood #paladin writes stuff

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amethystpath-writes · 3 years

Text

A Gentle Blade Part 28

Part 27 here.

@tears-and-lilies

******

"You tried to make me hate you so that you could protect me."

Kastion hummed and glanced over at Leera.

They weren't very far from Thharewood now. Only a few more hours and they'd arrive at the front gate of the prince's home. Actually, he and Leera were already in Thharewood, just not in the palace, not in the core of the kingdom.

Leera had been on edge the last couple of days, but it'd gotten much worse in the very last day, when they crossed into friendly territory. Kastion assumed it was because she didn't believe it to be friendly quite yet. Not because she thought Rennera was secretly after them, nor Crooked the Devious Guard, but because Kastion asked her to be queen and she was so used to being known as an assassin. The prince reminded her time and time again that that very fact was the reason Thharewood would love her and welcome her.

Thharewood wasn't full of murderers, but the people did believe in striking back. If a nearby kingdom was making threats- or worse, intruding- they wanted to attack a kingdom before Thharewood was attacked itself. The king did things differently, though.

"Something like that, I suppose." Kastion shrugged, looking at his lap instead of Leera. He didn't like how a pleading look from her could make him feel so many emotions. No, that was a lie. He loved it, but it unsettled him in some fashion. He had no regrets falling for an assassin, but it did irk him a bit. A part of him always remembered Leera telling him she only killed the bad guys. Kastion still considered himself one.

If it weren't for Leera sitting beside him, the prince would have heaved a sigh. Kastion nearly hated himself for feeling any amount of hesitance in loving Leera.

"Something like that? That first day I tried talking to you- when you became my guard- you tried to make yourself seem uninterested, but in the woods-"

Kastion smirked at her, any uneasiness melting away. "Are you trying to tell me you had me figured out from the beginning?"

The ex-assassin's mouth gathered to one side in a pinched cheek. "Well, you made it kinda obvious. Made it clear you didn't want to do what you did."

"Hm." Kastion crossed his arms and squinted. "I wonder why it took you so long to realize I was a prince then?"

They both knew the real answer; Leera didn't want Kastion to be a prince. She would have felt fooled and betrayed. But Kastion proved himself to be much better than the prince Leera knew, hadn't he?

She scoffed. "Don't you remember when I directly asked you if you were the prince in the story? You denied it."

"For good reason."

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't change the fact that I guessed it."

"But then I told you the next day what I was." Kastion laughed. "And then you denied it."

Leera tried to stop the smile playing at her lips, but she couldn't. What was she supposed to say to that? It had been a back and forth game. Her smile fell shortly after. "When did I realize you were a prince?" After all the recent events, it was hard for Leera to recall that particular moment of realization.

Kastion shrugged and bumped her shoulder with his arm. "I told you- for a second time. It was after- uh..." He licked his lips. "It- it doesn't matter when you realized, really. It just matters that you accepted it, right?" As if on cue, the carriage they rode in came to a stop.

Leera put a hand on Kastion's shoulder before he could open their ride and step out. "It still bothers you, doesn't it?"

"Nothing's bothering me. I'm fine." He shrugged her arm away, proceeding with his task.

"Kas, it's allowed to bother you, what happened in Mesenian."

"I never said I was bothered," he told Leera, finally managing to climb out. He kept his head down as he rounded the cart to Leera's side and opened the door there. "I mean, it does bother me, but I don't actively think about it all the time."

The ex-assassin took Kastion's hand, letting him pull her out. "Alright. Well if it doesn't bother you then remind me when it was that you told me- for a second time- that you are who you are." Since very few people knew Leera's face, she kept hers held at a normal angle. If both she and Kastion cloaked their eyes and noses and mouths with shadows, they'd look awfully suspicious. And right now, with the Prince of Thharewood supposedly being dead, it was best that he not be recognized until he got to the palace.

"Can we just drop it, Leer-" He caught himself before he could finish her name, just barely, but it was better than not catching it at all. "Can we drop it?"

"Well if it doesn't bother you that much, and it doesn't bother me that much, then I don't see why we can't talk about it now. It's not like-"

Kastion grabbed her arm and spun her back to face him, grabbing the other arm when he did. "I don't like to think about you getting hurt, okay? It does bother me. I think about it nearly every moment. And when I'm not thinking about you being in pain, I'm thinking about how I caused it. You should want to kill me, you understand? I'm the reason you were there to begin with."

Leera's arms remained stiffened at her sides as Kastion held them. His grip was tight in his stress, but not tight enough that it hurt her. "I don't know how I can help, Kas," she said softly.

Her eyes and nose stung.

"I've told you," Leera continued, "none of it was your fault." She began whispering. "You utilized an assassin because you needed one. I never told you not to give others my name. If anything, it was my fault. And really, it wasn't either of our faults at all." The prince's grip loosened as he tried to reason out what she was about to say. "The queen would have searched for me whether she had a name or not."

The prince let go of her, running a hand down his face. "We can talk about this more later if you want. I have other things to focus on." Kastion walked passed Leera.

Raising a brow, she huffed. "That sounded awful soldier-istic of you."

He stopped, turned his head over his shoulder. "What?" His voice was empty, void of any emotion. On the inside, he was hurt, but on the outside his princely demeanor continued to shine through.

"'I have other things to focus on'?" Leera ran her tongue against the front of her top teeth. She was pissed. "You're not allowed to destroy yourself like them."

Angling his body fully towards the ex-assassin again, Kastion lazily threw his hands out. "What does that even mean?"

She took several steps towards him before poking him in the chest and look up into his eyes. "You've said over and over again that you're terrified of becoming the assholes who trained you. I know what they did to you. My father was in the army and went through similar treatment. They make you shove everything down. They make you swallow your problems, but that doesn't fix them, Kas; it makes them worse. I'm not letting you destroy yourself by pretending-"

"Leera?" The assassin froze, her gaze falling to Kastion's chest, though her vision was unfocused as her jaw fell and stayed open. "Is that you?"

It wasn't Leera who spoke up, but Kastion instead. Recognition be damned. This was someone who knew Leera, which meant they might be trouble. "Who are you?" It was an older man the prince spoke to. He seemed to be in his mid-thirties or early-forties. Black hair. A thin beard, one that crossed in a bridge above the lip and below the nose.

"Is that Leera?" the man asked. He must not have recognized Kastion. Maybe it was because he'd grown a little facial hair himself. Or maybe the man had never been close enough to the prince before to ever recognize him in the future.

Leera's breaths picked up, and her eyes stung more badly than before when she'd grown soft with Kastion. "I should go," she said very quietly and briskly brushed by the prince into the tavern in front of her. It was the last stop before the two went to the palace. She didn't expect this to happen at the last stop.

The black-haired man stepped forward to follow, but Kastion held up a hand, tossing his head back real fast to see where Leera was headed. "I don't know who you are," he said turning to the man again, "but you need to stay out here. Better yet, leave."

Squinting his eyes and smiling, the man said, "I'm usually the peaceful intervention in fights, but you have no reason to be stopping me, so I think I'll be following."

"You're acting an awful lot like a predator, I say that's reason enough. But if you don't think so, then let me say this. As your prince, I am demanding you stand down, and leave without another word spoken to that girl. Am I understood?" Before the man could try to be smart and say something like 'Any man can call themselves a prince', Kastion pulled his royal seal ring out, waving it in front of the man's eyes. "Go."

The man gave a quick 'Oh' before hurriedly taking a bow and muttering again. "Your Highness, forgive me, but the rest of the kingdom thought you to be a runaway, or otherwise dead."

"Great statement, but as you can see, I'm very much alive. The runaway part I'm sure is debatable." The prince had never been as cold as this, but the man in front of him still never gave a claim as to who he was. It was obvious he was after Leera, and Kastion wasn't going to let that happen.

"For-forgive me again, but Leera..."

Kastion raised a brow, clenched his jaw. "I don't know who you think you saw just a moment ago, but the assassin, Leera, was taken by the Queen of Mesenian, as I'm sure you know- as I'm sure everyone knows."

"Leera is my niece."

The prince's eyes widened to the size of two full moons. "You- You are her uncle."

******

Part 29 (to be continued)

#part 28 #leera and rennera #medieval whump #my ability to tag has gone to poo #self blame #angst #fluff #cliff hanger #:)#okay i'm done tagging #I am doing bad at this haha

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gothicstay · 2 years

Text

I posted 1,587 times in 2021

1371 posts created (86%)

216 posts reblogged (14%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 0.2 posts.

I added 2,031 tags in 2021

#star askbox - 887 posts

#star rambles - 358 posts

#🧚‍♀️🍃 anon - 270 posts

#seungmin anon - 146 posts

#anon - 98 posts

#anskiie - 83 posts

#🦔 anon - 52 posts

#star wants asks - 49 posts

#channie anon - 45 posts

#star reblogs - 43 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#if anyone just needs to vent in my askbox about whats going on please go ahead! it stays in my askbox and wont be posted without your consen

My Top Posts in 2021

a night to remember. part one.

Pairing: dilf!Chan x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Flirty-ness, let me know if I missed any

Proofread? No

— — —

But, that wasn’t the only thing that was making her go to these little kid games where Annie just hung out with her friends; There was a man.

“Hey, y/n!” He said with a wave and enthusiastic smile. “Can I sit next to you?”

You nod your head, a hint of pink crossing your cheeks. “Of course! How’s it going, Chan?”

“Please, call me Chris.” Chris said with a smile. “I’m doing well, just a lot of late nights this week. Overslept again.”

“Man, that’s a stinker.” You say, still keeping eye contact. “Hopefully, this week’s better for you.”

“Thanks, me too.” He says with a smile. “How about you?”

“O-Oh me?” You say, taken a back. “Good, guess. Just thinking a lot, I guess.”

Chris’ eyebrows perk up in curiosity. “About what?”

You blink. Shit, you weren’t meant to say it out loud. “O-Oh nothing... just someone in my life, that’s all.”

Chris nods his head, deciding not to pry more. “Annie and her family all good?”

“Yeah, actually! Her father is trying for another promotion, so hopefully he can get it and not work so much.” You say, perking up. “Annie is doing good too, as usual.”

You feel frozen in time. Your brain was running a mile a minute with oh shit’s and he wants to get to know me?’s. You mentally pinch yourself and make yourself ask him what you wanted to.

“Like a date, of sorts?” You said, surprised you were able to keep your cool as you flush further into the color red. “If I’m interpreting what you’re saying right, of course.”

He nods his head, a light pink showing across his cheeks. “If you wouldn’t mind that, y/n.”

“Not at all.” You say, trying not to mumble or stumble any words out of nervousness. “I would love a date with you.”

See the full post

169 notes • Posted 2021-02-10 02:02:44 GMT

felix + voice kink ^__^

warnings: phone sex, d/s dynamics, daddy kink, kitten pet name, toys, idk kinda self indulgent sorry hope its okay

————

felix was relaxed by himself in his motel room, reading one of those magazines he found in the room. he had traveled for work, and he was spending sometime to himself, though that changed once he heard a familiar ringtone.

he picked up his phone pretty fast, opening it without reading the message, already knowing it was from you.

💖 y/n ❤️: hey daddy, are you busy?

oh, already? he thought. usually the name he had been called by you whenever you two had alone time would come hours into a conversation, so he knew it was desperate times. you were allowed to touch when he was gone for business stuff, but sometimes you needed help and his voice — deep and sultry and absolutely seductive — was just what would help drive you to euphoria.

felix: no, kitten, do you need to call me for some help?

in no time at all, the phone rang, and it was you, calling with a toy stuck on your clit, which wasnt bringing you any closer to release.

“hello kitten, how should daddy tease you?” he said softly. felix had already pulled out his cock, stroking it slowly to get himself harder.

you whimper, wanting so badly to whine to cum already. but, you resisted, and spoke calmly as you could with suppressed moans. “anyway, just want daddy to help me feel good.”

he chuckled. as per usual.

“are you using a toy or your fingers?” he says, sounding a bit stern.

“toy.”

he nods like you can see. “what setting, baby?”

“medium.”

he smirks. “set it to high, baby, keep it on your clit and i’ll help you cum, okay?”

you whisper out an okay and do as your told, putting the setting on high and whimpering from the rush of pleasure. “d-daddy…”

“feeling good, kitten? you like it when daddy tells you what to do with yourself?” he says lowly, still stroking himself. “you like it when daddy gets off with you too, right?”

“mhm… is daddy touching himself too?” you whimper as you roll your hips.

felix nods his head, moaning softly. “yes, kitten, the thought of what you’re doing turned daddy on… oh how i wish i was there to tease you, kiss you, drive you crazy with my cock.”

you whimper his name, holding the toy tight. felix’s hand stroked his cock faster, holding back a moan.

“can’t wait to hear you cum from daddy’s voice, kitten.”

219 notes • Posted 2021-09-22 21:18:52 GMT

how long skz would last when watching try not to cum videos

i don’t have any explanation for this other then i saw a bunch of asks from other accounts involving try not to cum videos so i did this. hoping the title makes sense i’m out of caffeine 😭😭😭 enjoy ig. please leave feedback in reblog tags or in my askbox!

warnings: mentions of overstimulation, blowjobs, penetrative sex (both), the fuckery of this is just a big warning 😭 (lmk if i missed anything!)

——————

chan - channie i feel would last a bit, probably until he sees someone in the video cum or someone in the video take a huge cock anywhere. it reminds him of you taking him in your mouth so nicely, or in your holes.... yeah, once he thinks of that he’s fully gone and he’ll need to have his way with you as well.

minho - he’d last until the end of the video by far. however afterwards I feel he’d want to fuck you senseless like one of the people in the film. if you’re watching multiple videos i say he makes it through three before needing you to ride him through an orgasm.

changbin - lol its cute that you think he’ll last more then two minutes 😂😂😂 god it embarrassingly turns him on quick. just let him cum and then overstimulated him after when you want your turn to release after the video is done.

hyunjin - it depends on what’s in the video i think. blowjobs are okay, but anything involving ass? yes. he’s an ass man, and if he can think about it and imagine it being you.... PHEW you’re done after this video is over.

jisung - let’s be real here folks, he’d just fuck you while it’s on and make sure you can’t cum and would edge you for hours. he thinks rules are meant to be broken. if he didn’t he probably wouldn’t last that long with the imagination he has, i say two videos, maybe half way through a third.

felix - i love my mans but he’d be coming in between every clip if he could. it just turns him on like crazy and his overstim kink would just be through the roof once you decide to have your way with him.

seungmin - same as sung, he’d rather fuck you then watch the video. i don’t see him as a big porn guy, so if you managed to get him to watch it he’d probably not be into it that much. i say if you cum, he’d be gone soon after because of your moans or something.

jeongin - since i see him as inexperienced he definitely would not last long at all. his imagine runs absolutely wild, and if you’re moaning at all he’s gone fairly quickly it’s embarrassing.

222 notes • Posted 2021-02-22 01:18:03 GMT

Hyunjin (dom) + exhibitionism

warnings: exhibitionism, degrading, i probably forgot something

————

your nails clawed at hyunjin’s back, scratching at his back, moaning as he pounded into you against the wall of a janitor’s closet. his soft groans filled your ear, and he was doing his best not get any louder then that.

“keep it down, baby,” he whispered in between a moan. “do you want to get caught? caught looking like a little whore for me?”

you could only whimper, as his teasing was something he had learned drove you crazy when you both decided to fuck in public, which was almost always for a thrill.

“aw, does my little baby enjoy being loud enough to be caught?” he asks, already knowing the answer but wanting to tease. “what a naughty baby..”

hyunjin picks up his pace, his mouth nibbling your ear lobe. “i want you to scream when you cum, baby… i want everyone to know who is fucking you this good.”

250 notes • Posted 2021-09-20 05:25:55 GMT

softdom!hyunjin - breeding kink

warnings: breeding, use of name “daddy”

————

you were laid on your back, feeling hyunjin slide in and out at a steady pace. moans and light skin slaps filled the room, and light praises fell from hyunjin’s lips.

“you’re always so, so good to me, baby.” he says, holding your hip with one hand, the other sliding every so slowly to your clit. “you always make daddy feel so good.”

your back arches at a couple of thrusts, and hyunjin speeds up at the arch, rubbing at tour sensitive bud with his thumb. moans and mumbles fall from your lips was you try to speak.

“daddy, p-please breed me.” you say softly between moans, your hips starting to roll along with his thrusts as you could start to feel your high approach. “please fill me up, daddy…!”

hyunjin smirks, deciding to speed himself up to help bring himself closer to release, and you as well.

“you want daddy to fill you up baby?” he thrusts a bit harder then before. “of course, baby, anything for y-you.”

his thrusts continue at a relentless pace, watching as you fall apart beneath him with a loud moan of his name. he follows not long after, his thrusts becoming uneven until he stops to pull out. he relaxes on his legs a bit, watching his cum fall out of your hole slowly.

“good job, baby.”

274 notes • Posted 2021-09-21 02:37:40 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #tysm for 2021 #austin posts

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spaceokase · 3 years

Text

Hobby

((More writing for Danyla, this time, a glimpse into her childhood. Mildly spoiler-y for those in my campaign!))

“Go away,” Danyla hissed at the door, “I’m busy.”

There was a pause from the other side, then a familiar voice that Danyla hadn't expected to hear.

"You can not spare a moment for your dear uncle?"

Now it was Danyla's turn to pause, as she debated for just a moment whether to let him into her room. After some mild contemplation, the teen relented, looking somewhat sheepish when she opened the door for him.

"Sorry, I thought you were Aerileth."

Uncle Bakul raised a ridged, scaly brow, looking over his niece with electric blue eyes. "What did your brother do to warrant that response?"

Danyla huffed, allowing her large dragonborn uncle to walk into her bedroom, where he dwarfed everything within, including her. "He's being annoying. More than usual, I mean."

"Uh huh." He sat down on the edge of the bed, causing it to creak beneath his significant weight, "What has he done, exactly?"

Danyla scrunched up her face, then gestured to her desk. Bakul noted the open book and the papers beside it, and more importantly the large amount of crossed out notes upon them. He didn't need further explanation, but he leant his niece an ear.

"I was working on my stupid studies, and he tried to ‘help’ me," Danyla gestured with her fingers, making heavy quotations around the word ‘help’, "And he just did that stupid thing where he just starts doing my work for me instead like a big know-it-all!"

That sounded like his nephew, but what Bakul noted above all else was how frustrated Danyla was. She'd apparently been studying and working on her paper for hours now, according to Dareth. The dragonborn pat the spot next to him, voice calm, softer than his usual tone.

"I think he means well, but I think more importantly, you need a break. Come, sit with me."

A crease formed between Danyla’s brows as she looked at him, then looked away, looking pensive. “I dunno, I really should finish my studies..”

“Being dedicated is good, but everyone needs a break. Come on.”

There was a defeated sigh from Danyla as she relented, sitting down next to him.

“Fine, but only ‘cause I’m getting a headache.” She blew loose strands of hair out of her face and grinned sardonically as she added, “So, what words of wisdom do you have for me today?”

It was hard for Bakul not to chuckle at the teen’s… teenagery, but he managed, “I will ignore your rudeness for now because I do indeed have words of wisdom for you. And maybe something that will make you feel better, hm?”

Danyla stared at her uncle, incredulous, but was willing to listen. He was a large man, in all senses of the word, but without his armor, he looked strangely smaller, somehow. She wasn’t used to seeing him without it. He cleared his throat, gesturing with large scaled hands.

“You have been working incredibly hard, and I am proud of you for putting so much towards becoming a Talon. But everyone needs to rest. Push yourself when you must, but pace yourself. If you push yourself too hard, too fast, you will fizzle and burn and things will be much more difficult for you going forward.”

The frustration that had been building in Danyla manifested more openly now, her eyes narrowed. “So what, I’m supposed to wait around for my paper to finish itself? Aren’t I supposed to give my all with this stuff?”

Bakul did not rise to his niece’s ire. “You are, but part of giving your all is knowing what your limits are and when you need to rest.” He responded calmly, quietly, “ I know you will get your work done, sometimes you need to do things that are simply for your own enjoyment. Whether that’s nothing, or indulging in a hobby.”

Danyla’s expression softened, but when she didn’t look entirely convinced, Bakul put a hand on her shoulder.

“It is… natural to want to try our hardest, to push past our limits and beyond. Our faith makes us a people of action. And your faith,” He playfully poked Danyla lightly in the center of her chest, then her forehead, “Will push you through many things in life, get you past many hardships. It can save you in your darkest moments,” His smile faded, miniscule, and only for a moment, “But faith alone is not enough to sustain you.”

Danyla arched an eyebrow at her uncle at such blasphemous words. He chuckled in response, the rise of his cheeks temporarily hiding the tired lines beneath his eyes.

“What I mean to say is that there are things you need in life that cannot be provided by a church, or a god. Even ours. Sometimes you must take time for yourself.”

Danyla looked contemplative, albeit somewhat loathe to admit that her uncle had a point. Picking up on that, Bakul decided to lighten the tone of conversation.

“But I have not come here just to lecture you. Since I have had to take leave, your Uncle Dareth suggested that I bring out my old tambura again.” He laughed, a familiar fondness in his voice that was always present when he talked about her uncle, “He said I am rusty from being gone for so long.”

“I think I heard you playing this morning. You are pretty rusty.” Danyla grinned.

“My point,” He replied, brow raised once more, “Is that I thought I could use the practice, but more importantly, I thought I could teach you how to play. I thought it would be something we could do together, as a hobby. Just for fun.”

As Danyla blinked at him, Bakul pulled a leather case off his back and unhinged the latch keeping it shut, revealing a well-loved, old, but clearly cared for instrument. She’d seen his tambura many times before, when she was younger, but she hadn’t seen it too often in recent memory. Her uncle was always too busy, the small bits of time when he was home were often spent catching up with family members and reporting to the higher ups in the church. As she looked at him now, she noted the bandages peeking from beneath his shirt, the tired but warm expression on his face. She tentatively took the instrument from within it’s case, and held it out in front of her as she’d seen her uncle do many times before. She strummed a few horrible, off-key noises that did not deserve to be called notes, and finally, she smiled in earnest, bright and broad and full of warmth.

“You know, I’d like that, actually.”

Her uncle beamed at her, and shortly after, Danyla’s first lesson began.

#dnd #monk #kensei monk #dragonborn #okase writing #danyla #uncle bakul #childhood

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