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stormgardenscurse · 8 months

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guys don't like me...

Summary: They’re your best friends! But some of the people (NPCs) crushing on you beg to differ, and are starting to hate seeing the guys flaunt their closeness with you.

Characters: Ace, Epel, Deuce, Cater, Leona

Ace

He’s someone that does this on purpose. It started with dropping in randomly while you were hanging out with other people. Ace picked up on their jealous stares whenever he stood a bit too close to you or laughed at his jokes.

It’s the way you visibly look more comfortable once he’s arrived, because with Ace there you feel less of a need to uphold politeness or conversation-carrying; his personality draws eyes to him instead. And then the one he’s talking to and looking at is you, but despite how that should make you feel put on the spot, it doesn’t.

Ace dances between aggravating them on purpose and feigning ignorance. He glances at the others when you’re not looking before sporting a smile to ask if you’d go to his basketball match next week. You sigh and say of course you will, ruffling his hair so as to get rid of his smug grin. If Ace doesn’t win, then dinner’s on him. He agrees, happy to leave the room now that he’s left a mark on the conversation. The other students’ moods have dropped, but you don’t know why.

Ace is also the type to be casually touchy, to the point where strangers ask if you’re together - to which he offhandedly says ‘nope!’ only to share your drink (indirect kiss) and receive odd (and some frustrated) looks in the next minute.

What, is this not normal? Color him flattered that you’re so lenient with him then! (Big faker, horrible horrible)

Epel

Another one that knows exactly what he’s doing, but what else should Epel do when people are eyeing you when he’s also hoping to confess as well? It’s only natural for him to take advantage of his circumstances - he’s already closer to you than they are, and frankly, while he feels bad at the way they deflate when he enters the room and your eyes immediately catch his, Epel feels a sense of pride from how charmed you are by him. It’s like seeing a garden of flowers lean towards the Sun for its attention, only to find that the sunlight has a favorite.

As jealous people sometimes do, his competitors try to subtly mention that Epel is quite cute for a boy, only for him to drop in (he wasn’t eavesdropping, just passing by) and invite you on a magic-wheel joyride. Your evident familiarity with this side of him only throws the others into confusion, and if they challenge Epel to a race, then… he can only accept it and beat them fair and square, no?

Slightly reckless but also very well-versed (to your worry) with going at high speeds, Epel wipes the floor with them. As to why you’re not a fan of this, it’s because he suggested you sit behind him to ensure he doesn’t cheat! (He’s doing this on purpose of course, but despite your comments of “you’re trying to kill me” you comply, which only strengthens his resolve as you wrap your arms around him to hold on for dear life.)

Deuce

(the NPCs are your friends from outside of school/your hometown! Implied that you and Deuce live fairly close to one-another)

He’s just a nice guy! A guy you think to rely on when you’re in trouble because there’s no one else as genuine and willing to help, in your book. And also the person you dare to open up about your struggles too, if only because Deuce Spade is no stranger to goals that seem unreachable at the moment - like every time you try to climb higher, the earth loosens and slips from beneath your feet and tests your strength.

If he ever hears the other students telling you that he’s a magnet for trouble, Deuce almost slips into self doubt before seeing the look on your face; the obvious disagreement, the hint of offense taken just at the idea. It makes him happy that you have his back even when he’s not around, but a part of Deuce didn’t want to be a wedge between you and your other friends either.

Their complaints soon die however when Deuce’s goodness manifests in a way no one can deny (not anyone with a conscience, at least). When you texted him and mentioned you forgot some ingredients for hotpot when your friends were over at your house, half an hour later there’s a knock on your door because Deuce has run over from his place with said ingredients, saying he had extra at home (“it’s going to expire soon, just take it, don’t worry”), and in a swell of emotion you almost burst into tears at the gesture (Deuce is the only one ever).

Cater

Who’s that guy that always tags you on Magicam? Cater likes being able to see his presence on your profile - it makes him feel more supported on the vast social media sites and quick-moving trends. Whenever you comment on his posts, a smile reaches his face at the sight of a comment that actually knows the context behind the pictures.

So of course, his jealous competitors are quick to ask you about your relationship with Cater. Were you dating? If not, why was he so clingy to you?

You never thought of Cater as clingy per se. Sure, he likes to throw his arm around your shoulder and give you celebratory hugs when something good happens, and texts you a lot - but that’s just how he shows affection in general, you tell them. He’s just a really good friend, and in your head you think that a part of you also relies on his cheeriness to keep your mood up. He always seems to be keeping the energy fun for the sake of others, that you wonder if he gets bored when you both just do nothing at his dorm, flipping through your feeds and doing meaningless quizzes about your personality type.

And then you recall how Cater always asks you for your results, comparing it to his as he leans his shoulder against yours to get a better look at your screen.

Does he know he treats you different? Maybe. But that’s for him to cling to as long as he can, before Cater has to fess up to his own emotions.

Leona

A mix of intimidation and annoyance is what your admirers tend to feel, whenever you’re with Leona.

You’re one of the only people that can approach him with a smile and ask the randomest things without fear of being shut down, and Leona simply regards you with a sway of his tail and comments here and there. If you’re feeling talkative, you strike a back and forth with him, engrossed in a conversation that onlookers can’t particularly intercept.

More annoying however, is when Leona knows they’re seething inside and just annoys them more by asking you if you could do something for him, like getting him food from the cafeteria. The goal wasn’t to make you run an errand, but have you ask him to go with you instead and buy it together. And with a purposeful act, Leona ‘reluctantly’ leaves his napping spot to be dragged away by you, hand pulling him lightly by the wrist or end of his sleeve.

Sometimes, you’re seen picking up an extra lunch while in the cafeteria line, thinking that you could save Ruggie some trouble by visiting Leona at the greenhouse yourself. Did you realize how much you were spoiling him? Leona says yes, though this awareness might be buried under several layers of him just being ‘a good senpai’ to hang out with. With time, he’ll make his stance clear though. No amount of daftness can ignore Leona when he wants to tell you something, after all.

#ace trappola x reader #epel felmier x reader #deuce spade x reader #cater diamond x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #twst x you #twst x reader #twst reader insert #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland imagines #storm writings #twst writing

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juniefruit · 1 month

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☆ My Dear ☆

☆ Tags: Han Jisung x fem reader, friends to lovers

☆ Summary: In which you’re both head over heels for eachother. Who wouldv’e known that such a simple word has Jisung wrapped around your finger…

☆ Warnings: Eventual smut, petnames, this shit nasty, MDNI!!!!!

☆ Word Count: 3.6k

It’s just a simple habit you picked up; how and where exactly… you can’t pinpoint. Calling people ‘dear’ as a mannerism, even for mundane things here and there. It’s almost subconsious: “thank you, dear.” or “would you pass me that cup, dear?” Just a passive way to be polite, right? Jisung knows you can’t help it. For a few years now, Jisung has been your ride or die. He’s always just a text or phone call away. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually a genie with how fast he always shows up at your side. You laugh together, you vent and rant together, nothing could sever your bond. Some might think you're too close to eachother to be just friends. You wouldn’t have it any other way, though. Jisung was everything you needed in a best friend. Goofy yet responsible; respectful yet lighthearted. Honestly, it’s hard not to imagine a life with him that’s past the boundaries of friendship. It doesn’t help that he’s the most attractive man you’ve had the pleasure of getting to know in your life. Because of your closeness, it’s also hard for Jisung. He would love nothing more than to hug you just because, cuddle up on the couch, and press passionate kisses to your pretty lips. And yet, the feelings go unspoken for fear of losing eachother.

There is one thing that Jisung wouldn’t tell anyone, not even if he was hooked up to a lie detector. Every time you call him dear, his mind spins. His heart races and he needs to manually control his breathing. Such a simple pet name, and yet his mind wanders. Would you call him that, when your thighs are splayed over his, and your fingers thread through his hair? When your breaths are laboured, and you can barely think straight? He would obey your every command. He would beg and plead under you, hands gripping the flesh of your hips in desperation. He would do anything to hear you call him that one more time. And another. And another, until you’re both climaxing with arms wrapped around eachother and necks covered in marks. That’s what he thinks about when he’s alone in his room, zoned out at his desk. Or in his bed. Or on the way to your apartment, which just so happens to be the reality. Great timing.

With spring just around the corner, you could practically feel that gloomy winter feeling melting like snow out of your body. The sun rays of the late afternoon dance through the windows of your living room and land on the hardwood floor. The city can be heard disatntly below. You sit comfortably on the couch, one leg tucked under the other, desperately trying to regain focus on your book. Your mind betrays you, once again pining over Jisung. Oh, how it would feel to finally call him yours. To show him every part of you. To lose yourself in complete adoration for him. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him, because you know he would do the same for you. Like that one time he was having trouble recording a verse just right. He stormed into your apartment, silently seething. No questions asked, you sat him down on the couch before preparing tea. When you returned, you stretched out your arms to invite him in. And he did just that. He couldn’t stay annoyed for long when he had the most beautiful girl comforting him. With a long sigh, he ranted. And you listened. You gave him your full attention. For that, he is forever grateful. A few days later, your boss decided to be extra stingy. You knew the deadline was quickly approaching, you knew there was still a lot to do. And yet he still felt the need to shove it in your face. The entire trip to Jisung’s apartment, stressed tears were bordering on your waterline. The knocks on the door with surprising force were Jisung’s first suspicion that something was up. When he opened it, his heart shattered. Who could have possibly done this to his pretty girl? He ushered you in with an arm wrapped around your shoulders. Opting for the floor, you sat, pulling your knees in tight.

“Please tell me, pretty girl, what happened?” He sat on his knees in front of you, leaning in. Silence from your end. The palm of his hand rubbed against the curve of your shoulder underneath your work clothes.

“Talk to me, Dear. So I can make it better. Why don’t you take a deep breath, hm?” Maybe your mannerisms were rubbing off on him. That didn’t mean they affected him any less. Still curled up with your head down, you talked. Like he asked. Because you couldn’t deny him for long. The rest is history.

The steady knocks at your door pull you out of your thoughts as you slam the book shut and place it on the coffee table. Your feet pad across the floor to unlock the door. You know it’s Jisung. He had texted you earlier, saying he’s on his way. For no specific reason other than he knew you were both at home anyway, enjoying the day off. When you open the door, You’re dazed every time. You can never get used to the sight that beholds you. Jisung, in a hoodie and jean jacket, black jeans hugging his toned thighs. His dark hair was in its natural curly state, a few stray strands falling forward above his eyes. You would want nothing more than to reach out a hand and sweep it to the side. That would make things weird, certainly. His small silver hoop earrings dangle as he looks up.

“Hey,” He says, with a content sigh and a subtle grin.

“Hi, Sungie! Come in-” You say, side stepping to give him room to enter. He’s unlacing his shoes while you walk to the kitchen.

“Want something to drink? I can make some tea?”

“Whatever you want, y/n. You make it, I'll drink it.” He says as he’s hanging up his jacket. You chuckle.

“Alright, Dear.”

The water in the kettle makes a bubbling sound off to the side. You’re occupied with preparing the tea bags when you sense Jisung’s presence behind you. It takes everything in you not to yelp in surprise when you feel a hand slide against your waist. Jisung reaches past you and grabs a glass from the cabinet. His presence is warm and comforting. If you leaned back just a bit, you’d be pressed right up against him. You freeze, but he continues his gentle gestures. The hand that isn’t still settled against the lower part of your waist sets the glass down. He grazes his hand over yours, takes the tea bag between his lithe fingers, and places it in the cup. When he speaks, it’s sensually close to your ear.

“You’re always so good to me… you make me tea, you comfort me when I’ve had a bad day, you even got me an entire cheesecake for my birthday. How could I ever repay you?” His voice is low and soothing.

“Being my best friend is more than enough, Dear.” You say with a considerate tone. You turn your head to face him, which was a grave mistake on your part. Now you’re nose to nose, wide-eyed and staring into his round, kind eyes. It takes a few seconds for him to muster up the courage before speaking.

“What if I didn’t want to be best friends anymore?” His voice was now serious.

“Uh, what?” This can’t be. Did you do something wrong? Before your brain short circuits, Jisung continues.

“I- Um, shit. I meant, what if you were my girlfriend instead?” That sounded better in his head, clearly. “I just- I think about you like, every day. When I’m at the studio with the guys. Or when I’m literally doing nothing. I don’t know what to do with myself-” You cut him off, not by saying anything, but by leaning in and placing a soft kiss on his cheek. Enough with the rambling.

“Jisung, dear, what if I didn’t want to be your best friend anymore either?” And with that, He grins so wide his eyes crinkle. He takes his arm off the counter to grab the other side of your waist, turning you completely towards him; eyes still locked.

“Then you better tell me if you don’t want this, too.” He’s leaning in and pressing his lips to yours before you can think of something to even say. Now realizing how useless your hands feel, you bring them up to rest on his shoulders. With newfound courage, you kiss back. You can practically feel the energy radiating from where he subtly moves his plush lips against yours. Not totally sure what to do, you mimic his own movement, which he seems contempt with because he releases a low groan and gently exhales through his nose. The scent of his cherry chapstick invades your nose. It’s certainly doing its job; his lips are softer than the finest silk. Truly, you’re not thinking of anything other than him, and where he’s touching you.

The alarm of the kettle snaps you back into the space of your apartment. You hum into his mouth when he doesn’t immediately let go. Jisung lets out a low whine, and tightens his arms around you. The feeling is dangerous. Reluctantly, you pull away from his lips with a loud smack.

“Sungie Dear, the water-”

“I finally get to kiss you, and you’re giving the kettle priority over me?” He says, teasingly. He pouts, puffing his cheeks out.

“Let me at least turn it off-” You wiggle and squirm in his hold. When he feels you create that friction, he finally realizes that he should have tried to keep his composure a little more. Especially since you’ve been calling him by that saccharine nickname ever since he stepped through the door. Luckily, the material of his jeans was thick enough that he felt confident you didn’t notice anything. As if his arms weighed a hundred pounds each, he pulled them away; not without dragging them across your hips first. He huffs out a ‘fine’ before following you to the other side of the kitchen. Like an obedient puppy, he tracks behind as you carry the kettle to the two cups on the counter. You pour them both. Not even a second goes by after you set the kettle down and Jisung has his arms wrapped around your middle and head resting on your shoulder from behind. You chuckle.

“There. Happy now?” You inquire.

“Very.” One of his arms travels up your upper body. He takes his time, applying pressure to every dip and curve of your side. When he reaches your neck, he brushes your hair behind your ear and to the back. Goosebumps make their way up your arms. Not because it’s cold. On the contrary, you’re burning up. Surely your cheeks are bright red and your eyes can’t focus on anything in front of you. When Jisung leans his head in to whisper in your ear, he also slightly pushes his middle into yours, craving more physical touch.

“Tell me, pretty girl, is this okay? I’ve been thinking about you for so long, I would hate to rush things.”

“It’s okay. I promise.” You can barely get the words out when you feel his body against yours, even with clothes. If you’re feeling this stimulated now, How will you even be able to breathe when you go farther than this? The verdict is, you’ll find out when you get there.

“What, am I making you nervous?” He teases. You can feel his breath on your neck when he talks.

“I mean- yeah, but not in- not in a bad way. I- please, just do something.” You whine softly at the end.

“Say the magic word, pretty girl.” His lips are so close tto the nape of your neck now that you can feel his lips moving as he speaks.

“Please, Dear.” Never in your life had you felt him so eager like this. His plush lips molded against the nape of your neck under your ear. His arms shifted and tightened against your midriff when he heard you breath out a heavy sigh. His tongue darted out to run over his lips and, in the process, ran over the soft skin of your neck. At that, you let out the tiniest whine. Jisung heard it and ran with it. Licking and sucking against your neck with fervor as your hands glided over his own. With one last languid suck into the sensitive new mark, he flipped you around and gently pushed you further into the counter. You looked utterly divine; out of breath and waiting for the next move. Jisung passionately gave you one last kiss. His lips were wet from his earlier escapade, and his tongue darted out for a kitten lick against your own lips. He swears he’s never felt or tasted anything better. Your head is spinning when you gently part your lips to deepen the kiss. Butterflies erupt in your stomach when you feel his core slowly move against your own. It was experimental. You do the same motion back. Jisung gasps against your mouth.

“Um, shit, I- I’m sorry, I definitely took this too far. Was that okay, baby?” He’s trying to speak and catch his breath at the same time. You stare into his worried eyes.

“More than okay. Now, it seems like I’m the one waiting.” You exclaim with a push of your hips against his. His face scrunches from the stimulation.

“Come to the couch with me.” He pulls you off of the kitchen counter and guides you through the living room with arms still wrapped around you. You take your own hands and press the pads of your fingers into the back of his neck where his hair curls. You gently tug, and he lets out a quiet, breathy moan. You fall back onto the couch. Jisung leans over you, silver earrings twinkling in the golden rays from the last sunlight of the day. Oh yeah, it’s golden hour. As Jisung places his arms on either side of your shoulders, the ethereal orange light makes him look like a fallen angel. He can say the same for you. Your hair is a bit tussled, and you’re looking up at him with doe eyes that he’s never even had the power to imagine. When he comes closer, he sensually slots his hips against yours and grinds. One of his legs rests on the couch for stability as you lay under him. Your fingers are still tangled in his hair when he runs his palms down your arms and to your middle. His hands slide under your sweatshirt to caress the soft skin there. You let out a wanton moan at the contact. His hips do not relent. Your hands slide down from his hair, scratching along his clothed back, and hooking into the belt loops of his jeans. He gasps and whines.

“It’s a bit hot in here, don’t you think?” He asks teasingly from his position above you.

“Why dont you take this off then, my Dear?” You pull on the hem of his hoodie.

“Yeah, of course Baby. Anything.” His words are breathy and he can barely think straight. The way the word shapes your lips and leaves your mouth in the softest, most sensual tone has his braincells running laps. He mimics your movements and runs his own hands down to the belt of your jeans before raising them and throwing his hoodie over his head and somewhere off to the side. His wide shoulders accent the planes of his chest, perfectly toned. His eyes look down at your chest.

“Can I take this off, Baby?” He asks, gathering the material of your sweatshirt in one hand. His hips are still connected to yours but halt their movements. You can feel him through his jeans, that’s how high strung he is. You nod your head with a hum as he grapples with the material. Your fingers fiddle with the button on his jeans. Your eyes are heavy with desire.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, my Dear?”

He moans and his eyes roll back. “Yes… hah…”

You unbutton his jeans to feel his member through his boxers. Jisung’s tongue is licking into yours until he begins to leave open mouthed kisses down your jaw, your neck, and laving over your collar bone.

“So gorgeous Baby…mmmmmh” He groans into your skin. You crane your neck to give him space, while leaving kisses on his own. The silver earring dangles against your nose. You shimmy your own pants off, finally becoming too unbearable. You both moan at the new level of closeness and the pressure of your nether regions against one another. Jisung’s moans grow higher in pitch and frequency the longer your hand rubs over him.

“Ah, ah Baby, stop before I cum like this…” his eyebrows knit together. You let out a hum.

“Let’s take these off then, my Dear.” You shimmy your hands under his boxers in order to pull them down with his jeans at the same time. Once they’re down at his ankles, he pulls them off the rest of the way. His swollen cock stands and pearls of glistening precum gather at the tip. He jolts when you swipe a finger over the head to gather it, before impatiently tugging your jeans and underwear down in one go. They plop down onto the floor. Your hearts beat rapidly in tandem with anticipation. Jisung tears his eyes away from your chest to look you in the eyes.

“You’re sure this is okay, yeah?” He exhales.

“Yeah. Now come here.” He keens at the command. Your knees raise up to lock in around his waist, his sensitive cock between you two. His hands grip the sides of your waist for stability, and his thumbs rub soothing motions into your heated skin. He adjusts his hips so his tip drags over your clit before finding your entrance between your folds. He would have prepped you with his nimble fingers had it not been for your joined impatience. So, to make up for it, his tongue drags down and over your right nipple, licking stripes up and down. Your back arches at the stimulation. Jisung slowly pushes his cock in, until his head pushes past the throbbing ring of muscle only to be met with your velvet walls enveloping every inch. His thighs quiver, and his hands make grabby motions against your waist.

“Ah, hahh, so good Baby, all nice and so wet…” You mewl and whine. Your brain is going into overdrive with the way jisung’s chest moves as he takes deep breaths in. The way his dark hair falls across his face and just barely covering his eyes. When he gives an experimental grind with his length inside, you both let out breathy groans. Your arms circlearound to grasp at his shoulder blades, and your nails subtly scratch. He shudders and moves his hips deeper. Every thrust is accentuated with a huff hrom his plump, kiss-swollen lips. Your scratches on his back make him pick up the speed of his thrusts, until he gets an idea. He leans even closer and slides his arms around your back.

“I have an idea… hmmmh, flip over for me, Baby.” You both rotate until you’re now sitting on top of him. Your thighs are pressed on top of his and honestly, the sight is heavenly. Jisung won’t admit how long he’s wanted to see you like this. He knows he won’t last long like this, not when he’s already so stimulated. Inbetween bounces, you’re mumbling praises that make Jisung ascend. Little whispers of “so good, my Dear” and “right- right there, Dear…” It gets harder and harder for him to control the speed of his thrusts when he’s so close now that he can taste it. Every time he pushes back in, your walls tighten around him. There’s a little puddle of your combined slick at the base of his cock aiding in the rush to cum. Every time you sink down all the way to his base, your clit hits against his lower tummy that is also thrusting up to meet you halfway. His hands are gripping at your upper thigh with a force that might leave fingertip-shaped bruises tomorrow, but right now, nothing feels better. One of his hands drags down to press his pointer and middle finger into your clit to rub tight circles. Your release builds and builds in waves until you’re crashing down with him, hunching over and biting into the nape of his neck. Whiny moans and groans fill the living room as Jisung goes taut with his orgasm.

“Ha-ah ohhhh Baby, I’m- ughh cumming-!”

His breathing is heavy and he’s pulling you so close that there is no point on your upper bodies that aren’t in contact. It takes a solid few minutes to control breathing and regain sense of where you are. Your poor couch. Jisung exhales with a smug grin and lidded eyes, looking up at you. His hands are drawing little circles into your waist.

“Sit here Baby, let me go get some things to clean up..” he says before pulling you off to sit limp against the couch. He comes back with a soft damp washcloth, and water.

“Oh… thank you, my Dear.” You say as you take the water with both of your hands.

“You’ll have to cut that out unless you want round two…” Jisung warns with a tilt of his head. Two cups of tea sit long forgotten on the kitchen island, cool enough that they can be used for iced tea instead.

☆ Read more of my works here~ masterlist

#stray kids x reader #han jisung #han x reader #han x y/n #jisung x reader #stray kids jisung #stray kids han #jisung x y/n #jisung x you #skz x reader #stray kids oneshot #stray kids imagines #fanfic #stray kids smut #skz smut #smut

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cewyll · 2 years

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@sharp-teeth-and-wide-grins said:

❝ we can’t change what fate has in store for us, but we don’t have to face it alone. ❞ ( Cullen // sharp-teeth-and-wide-grins )

arcane starters | accepting

NIGHT FELL ON SKYHOLD HOURS AGO. the last drunken stragglers have finally meandered out of the herald’s rest to sleep off their stupor, and its lights, like a sigh, snuff out. as the moon makes her journey across the clear summer sky, elizabeth and cullen stand on the battlements, watching the black mountains silhouetted against the stars.

❝ you’ve suffered, general rutherford, ❞ she murmurs without looking at him. it isn’t quite a reply. when others reach out, elizabeth most often prefers to step away. that doesn’t mean, however, that she cannot offer a listening ear and some advice where it’s needed. ❝ but... you reached out, and you allowed those who care about you to reach back. they’re proud of you, you know. ❞ eyes turned to the stars, she lets her elbows rest on the stone railing. ❝ they have always been, even when you struggled to weather the storm alone. ❞

#* IN.#sharp-teeth-and-wide-grins #* VERSE » da:i ( act iii » they lived and laughed and loved and left. )#{ post-what pride had wrought inquisitor liz for you!!#feel free to set this at any point after that if you want :) }#{ i love the idea of elizabeth and cullen being fellow insomniacs. }#{ IF IM REMEMBERING RIGHT that he canonically has trouble sleeping }#{ if not then maybe its just a one time thing }#{ also a much shorter one for you this time lol }#{ i promise i don't always go into novella mode }

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familiaanteomnia · 2 years

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streamer!verse(s) xav playing unhinged dating sims -for being so private,etc not even by accident failing to hide his xav <3 m.othman+ alike sentiments -him getting recommended some dating sim that’s like top tier to his liking though he goes into it blind/when he’s like ‘well shit i have to Pick One out of all these fine options and we haven’t even gotten the full roster’ only to be like M.OTHMAN MY LOVE NOBODY ELSE MATTERS THE ONLY HUSBAND MATERIAL, he’s looking !!! so hot in this form and art style but i’ll be a little sad if we don’t get the full experience -it being a wild late night stream full of chaos (his mods jokingly threatening to ban people who recommended it cuz “you’re the reason i’m going to have to hear the words M.othman can fuck” but super chill+full of him just constantly giggling/having fun

#caps lock cw #headcanons #♥ aesthetics 》 xavior carver #nsfwish mention cw #(the amount of times somebody in any verse is like well who would you marry? as if he isnt mega troubled etc lol)#(and he just without hesitation is like there is only One who I'd marry)#(cue asking for clarification and xav being heart eyed like my soulmate with red eyes who really loves light n lives in the forest is tall)#(naturally going from normalish traits to the ... oh oh he's talking about i regret my asking but his rambling is cute? i guess)#wishlist #(i have remembered some key memories of that part of his personality coming into writing more etc plus amusing moments)#(it's possibly cursed but also wholesome and not his most peculiar crush)

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vesora · 1 year

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all you got to do is sit there and look pretty: loa edition

DISCLAIMER: this was written before a series of realisations, the main point still stands but the subconscious mind does not exist. it is simply awareness. let go and let god.

one thing i have noticed, even in myself, is that we have this need to keep doing something. i need to keep affirming, i need to keep forcing myself into a state, i need to keep focusing on my thoughts or else it won’t manifest. all these thoughts have a common link, a fear of not manifesting, or rather, the 3D not conforming.

it’s not our fault. we have been primed to think this way. work this hard and you’ll get (x). this is not the way it’s supposed to be. with the law, we break free.

i need you to know that it’s okay if you’re consciously not thinking from your desire all the time. it’s okay that you don’t feel okay with entering another state if this one is too traumatic for you. relax and know the you on the outside, does not manifest.

who manifests then?

our inner self; our subconscious mind. our subconscious mind is us, but unlike our conscious selves, it is also the Universal Mind, meaning it knows all, it has all knowledge and power stored inside it. our job is to give the subconscious mind a job. as the conscious mind, we hold the key to decide to let what the subcon should manifest and not. we are the guard, we don’t manifest.

all we really have to do is be still and let God, and by God i do not mean some external being, i mean our subconscious mind; our true self. letting go and detaching doesn’t mean you will stop caring about what you’re manifesting, it simply means that you know that the subconscious will handle it for you. because the subconscious IS you, it’s a robot that only listens to YOUR command. it cannot be influenced by any other force.

experience

for the past few days, when i made the unfavourable circumstances post, i was feeling so incredibly awful. i felt i had no reason to live, because i thought me as the conscious sora, was responsible for changing my life. while that is true to an extent, all i have to do is give an order. i told my subconscious mind that night to fix everything for me because i was tired and the next day, all the things that were causing me distress got solved. the next day i had an even better day, because the subconscious really fixed the things causing me stress. life was peaceful again.

it was then i realised that i have been too attached with doing things right, when all i had to do was sit there and look pretty while my subconscious does the work.

another success happened just now! my browser froze and i didnt save this post. i panicked for a second then i was like “sora you just wrote a post about your subcon fixing things”; so i told my subcon “hey man fix this pls” and it did! lol browser is back to normal which is how ur seeing this post rn

what if my subconscious doesn’t listen?

anything that happens regarding these things is a direct reflection of you. inner creates outer, not the other way around. so, any failure is not because the technique failed, it’s because you haven’t changed self yet. and what changes self? persistence. you must keep persisting because the subconcious HAS NO CHOICE but to listen to you. if it ‘doesn’t’, DON’T ACCEPT IT.

persistence

And He said unto them, Which of you shall have a friend, and shall go unto him at midnight, and say unto him, Friend, lend me three loaves; for a friend of mine in his journey is come to me, and I have nothing to set before him? And he from within shall answer and say, Trouble me not; the door is now shut, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot rise and give thee. I say unto you, Though he will not rise and give him, because he is his friend, yet because of his importunity he will rise and give him as many as he needeth. And I say unto you, Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you. Luke 11:5-9

in this verse that neville also referenced, we can see that the man did not give up. in fact, importunity means: the act of making intrusions, being unrelenting, consistent. unrelenting, he never took no for an answer. he kept going and going and going until the man decided to give him bread. do not take no for an answer. do not settle. even if the door seems shut, you will ALWAYS be the key to open it; there is no other choice. keep telling your subconscious mind that you are rich, you are beautiful, you are everything and your subconscious mind will have no choice but to reflect that onto the 3D because that is its job.

excerpt from power of awareness:

“THERE ARE three principal characters in this quotation, you and the two friends mentioned.

The first friend is a desired state of consciousness .

The second friend is a desire seeking fulfillment.

Three is the symbol of wholeness, completion.

Loaves symbolize substance.

The shut door symbolizes the senses which separate the seen from the unseen.

Children in bed means ideas that are dormant.

Inability to rise means a desired state of consciousness cannot rise to you, you must rise to it.

Importunity means demanding persistency, a kind of brazen impudence.

Ask, seek, and knock mean assuming the consciousness of already having what you desire.

Thus the scriptures tell you that you must persist in rising to (assuming) the consciousness of your wish already being fulfilled. The promise is definite that if you are shameless in your impudence in assuming that you already have that which your senses deny, it shall be given unto you – your desire shall be attained.”

#loa #law of assumption #Law of Attraction #law of abundance #law of belief #neville #neville goddard #consciousness #awareness #self concept #subconscious #subconciousmind #3d #4d #void state #manifestation #manifest #manifesting

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rowarn · 5 months

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How pissed off do you think Simon would’ve been if reader did end up sleeping with the boss in a desperate attempt to get her job back??

I think u should make a plm-verse… perchance an angsty AU where reader does “give up” after the first fight where they said the mean shit and Simon finds her body 👉👈 I love fics where Simon regrets his words.

HAHA I COULD NEVER DO THAT THATS TOO SAD !!!!!!!!!!!!! MY HEART HURT EVEN AFTER JUST READING THAT!!!!! tho i do think even tho they're together now that simon would still have trouble biting his tongue when things get too hard so im sure the two of them will have plenty more "simon u need to learn when to shut ur fucking mouth" moments

anyway!!!

simon would be actually furious. furious at himself, furious at the boss, and at reader. in the fic we see he was pissed bc he was intending to come back anyway and so he thinks reader shouldn't have even bothered trying to get their job back.

so if reader had actually gone through with it that would be x10. not only that he would just feel so guilty that they had put themself through that because of him, because he abandoned them and they thought they had no other solution ): i think that would be an incredibly hard emotional hit for him.

also he absolutely would not be able to hold himself back from going after the boss. like ???? didn't u learn the FIRST time u old man??????? mr. boss man would be in fear for his life the second he sees that damn skull mask coming his way a second time....like the fact he extorted someone close to simon for sex in exchange for a job???????? simon wouldn't let scum like that continue to exist - mr. dawson would for sure be living with chronic pain for the rest of his life.

but i think overall, if reader had gone thru with it i think it would something very hard for simon to forgive himself for. once the anger of it happening washes away he would just be.........sad. he'd be guilty and regretful and i think that mistake would linger with him for a good long while ):

#ask #plm!lore

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ma1dita · 3 months

Text

trouble always finds me

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 1.7k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he could tell you were trouble from the day he met you. Luke’s perspective on trouble & how they first met! think trouble’s origin story (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

warnings: none, fluff? Mr. D being a clueless dad lol also guys they’re 14 here

a/n: welcome back to the trouble!verse hehe i was inspired by Mr. D being a bit of a jerk to Percy so that the kid doesn’t off himself. Similar concept but with Luke after he first gets to camp— another version for why trouble!reader calls him angelface coming soon

(posted 1/19/24, erm unedited and not beta’d so forgive me in advance)

—

You were always trouble, Luke knew that from the day he met you.

Walking into Camp Half-Blood, worn out and weary after days of trying to not become harpy food, his arm was slung protectively over Annabeth’s shoulder as they were led onto the campgrounds. So many pity-filled eyes were focused on them after hearing what happened to Thalia, but the camp seemed promising, filled with other demigods who can resonate with what they’ve experienced. Luke thought it was too good to be true, but anything’s better in comparison to the streets they came from. You, however, looked at them in interest from afar, a playful expression on a pretty face watching their every move like him and Annie were shiny new toys to play with.

He was so sure something was off with you.

Had to be, from the deranged glimmer in your eye that would appear when something bad would happen at Camp. He’d seen it in action a couple of times before you set your sights on him— setting off fireworks during capture the flag, replacing salt with sugar in the kitchens, cutting Mr. D’s hair in his sleep; all of this causing campers and staff alike to run amok and figure out who to penalize. Each time he’d find you enjoying how it all played out, excitement brimming on the cusp of revealing yourself as the culprit as he watched you bite your tongue. But as a mischievous kid himself, he wondered why you hid it. You preferred to orchestrate the show, to make a spectacle for your personal entertainment, and with a smile too soft to be considered guilty, you were a convincing actress.

The other campers in 11 told him you’d been unclaimed for half a year now, keeping to yourself and making a safe haven within the busy cabin. You were a klutz to say the least, bringing chaos to Camp Half-Blood with a cool disposition, and you hardly seemed interested the one time Luke tried to say hi as he took the bunk next to yours.

So why the hell wouldn’t you lay off of him?

At first it was small, shoulder bumps and raised eyebrows whenever he piped up in a conversation. That, he could deal with. Luke’s a tough guy, having gone through more than a typical 14-year old would.

But then it just got annoying.

Glitter in his shampoo, his laundry load dyed purple, and shoelaces knotted together to make him stumble— things meant to be more of an inconvenience rather than an actual problem. Luke wasn’t sure what to make of it, or what to tell you. No one wants to be the new kid creating trouble, but you didn’t seem to have a problem with that.

Maybe you were a Hermes kid like him, but of that, Luke wasn’t so easily convinced—months of living in 11 would mean you’d learn all of the tricks of the trade, so it couldn’t automatically mean that you were related (a part of him also hoped you weren’t be half-siblings, or else the fact he couldn’t stop thinking of you would be slightly awkward). Perhaps a child of Apollo? When you weren’t being difficult, he’s seen you sprinkled in sunlight, usually humming a tune under your breath. Yesterday it was a song from the Sound of Music, and though he only remembers bits of a memory from a movie night with his mom years ago, he put his combat gear on slower just to hear you finish the song.

Whatever you were, it was bound to be troublesome.

—

At this point in life, Luke hasn’t had many comforts while on the run. To him there’s no such thing as action without reason, without meaning. Five years of running and not looking back makes this son of Hermes realize that he hasn’t had a chance to take a breath until he got here. It’s hard to let down your guard when you’re always supposed to be keeping watch.

He wriggles under his covers trying to relax himself before bed, purple socks sticking out of the scrappy hand-me-down blanket, and he hears a small giggle from the bed next to his. Luke shifts his weight onto his side, eyes darting to your direction in the quiet of the dark cabin.

“Nice socks.”

He blinks. Were you talking to him? His toes wiggle playfully, prompting more of your melodious laughter as he chews at his lip before he responds.

“Guess I’m getting used to them.”

“You’re getting used to a lot of things around here. That’s good,” you whisper, and thinks he can see you concocting something sinister in that brain of yours—he’s on the edge of the mattress hanging onto your every word as he realizes this is the most you’ve spoken to him.

“You did this. Why?” he says, more of a statement than a question. Why would you go out of your way for someone like him?

“Are you mad about it? Luke, right?” you mutter, a calm expression on your face shrouded in moonlight, and for a second he wonders if you actually don’t know his name until he notices the upwards quirk of your lip.

Luke catches himself then, and the realization hits him like a blow to the chest— he’s not angry at all. If anything, he hasn’t had the time to feel anything negative with the antics you’ve been pulling. You’ve proven to be quite the distraction to his circumstances, and he can’t remember the last time he’s thought about Thalia or his mom since he got here. The melancholy falls on his countenance like a better-fitting blanket than the one he has on, and your words pull him from his thoughts before they can suffocate him again.

“Sorry about your sister. I lost someone right before I got here too. My mom.”

This, he can tell, is not acting. Your eyes flicker to a polaroid strapped in the space underneath the top bunk above your head, two blurry figures huddled together in a memory.

“I’m sorry.” He’s not sure what to say. In the silence that follows, he swallows audibly. Everyone’s been worried about Annabeth, including himself that he hadn’t even thought of his own emotions being on display for everyone to see. Luke never thought you of all people would notice.

You shrug, “S’not your fault. I know when people are acting though. If you know I’m the one who’s been starting shit, why haven’t you told anyone?”

Luke almost laughs at that, a rough exhale leaving his lungs as he watches your hands clutch your quilt.

“It’s pretty entertaining, I guess. You’re annoying, but I don’t mind it. Kept my mind off of things.”

He watches you smile in the shadows now, and it shines—all lips, teeth, and sheer mirth that makes his chest feel a little lighter. A real smile from you, one that doesn’t hide your true intentions.

“I’m glad. Mine too.”

The next thing you do confuses him further, but from what he’s gathered you’re always full of surprises. You chuck your quilt across the space between your bunks, and the end of it smacks him in the face as he grunts.

“Here. Keep it,” you chuckle a bit loudly, the both of you hearing a Shhhhh… from somewhere in the dark cabin.

“What… Why? Are we friends now?” Luke mumbles jokingly, inhaling the soft scent of berries and fresh linen. His purple laundry load smelled like this too.

“No.”

“Then why are you giving me your stuff?” he says, but still curls up underneath the handmade quilt stitched from memories of a past life, of motherly love and gentle hands. He doesn’t have anything like this, so he settles into this feeling of comfort instead, even if it wasn’t his memory to hold. You go quiet at the sight of him, eyes fluttering and chin tucked into the pink and purple fabric, and he looks as soft as a normal 14 year old boy should.

“It’s getting boring in here. Gonna have to change it up soon, I think,” you mumble, turning away and shutting your eyes before he can say anything else.

—

The next day, you get caught putting a month’s supply of bubble bath into the lake, but Luke’s convinced you did it on purpose. All of camp is standing on the shore, watching you wave at them from a river tube as Chiron and Mr. D yell at you in exasperation—finally revealing yourself as the troublemaker they’ve been searching for.

“Get on the beach this instant, young lady! You have no idea how much trouble you’ve put us through!” Mr. D’s voice echoes across the lake, his immortal form almost filtering through his frustration before you laugh in his face, unthreatened by the Olympian.

“Good thing I get it from you. Hello, dad!”

Jaws drop as everyone turns to look at Mr. D, the realization hitting his face as he points at you, his brain moving a mile a minute. Though you resemble your mother, your actions are all him. You revel in the grand reaction, looking up to see a purple thyrsus surrounded by grape leaves float over your head.

“Nice outfit, kid. I don’t think purple is your color. She do that to you too?” Mr. D notes Luke’s wine colored cargos and socks clashing against the harsh orange of his shirt as he pushes past him, scratching his head at the idea of another kid. Poor guy said two was the limit in a lifetime and he gets a grinning teenage girl who dares him to do something about it. He hasn’t raised a lot of girls….

“I don’t know. I guess trouble always seems to find me,” Luke laughs lightly, watching kids of all ages jump into the bubbly lake water happily. The glowing ember of his eyes are relaxed for the first time in a while— an inviting flame catching your own as you stare at him from across the sudsy water. Trouble, he thinks, a smile settling onto his face—how fitting.

He’s spent a lot of time running. But perhaps this time, he’s finding reasons to want to stay.

—

"After all, we are nothing more or less than what we choose to reveal." - Sylvia Plath

Ask to be added to the general/luke taglist!

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x dionysus!reader #pjo imagine #luke castellan x reader fanfic #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan fluff #made by ma1dita ♥︎#trouble!verse #thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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shina913 · 1 year

Text

The Thrill | KNJ

The Thrill (An Intersect drabble)

✫✫✫Intersect Masterlist✫✫✫

Pairing: KNJ x Fem!Reader

Rating: M 🔞; NSFW

Genre: Established relationship; fluff; smut

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff; grand romantic gestures; cussing; clit play; breast play; dirty talk; unprotected penetrative sex in a committed and monogamous relationship; soft aftercare

Word count: 2,993 words

Summary: “Nooo...stop it.”

A/N: I guess this is the result of the amalgamation of all the boyfriend/thirsty content that Namjoon has been dropping lately. I really have no excuse when it comes to him. I say this as my BFE!Yoongi WIP pouts in the corner, mid-smut scene--you’re next, I promise!!! 🤪 Thank you, Sim @itdoesntmatterwhy for reading this through and giving me some good notes!

A/N2: The Thrill is one of my favorite Miguel songs. It’s so much better live than the original recording.“We can be the riot in the air tonight/Start the kind of trouble you can taste.” I debated cutting it off right before the smut but then...Joon’s Smoke Sprite verse happened so...you can blame that for the second half of this!

A/N3: You don’t need to read the series to get into this. I included some callbacks but they’re not necessarily crucial to be able to understand this drabble.

“Baby! Have you seen my–”

You giggle to yourself as this neverending saga of Namjoon asking, ‘have you seen this thing that I always use and yet I always forget where I keep it,’ continues.

“Check the first drawer on your left-hand side of the hallway cabinet,” you yell from the bathroom. You hear him let out an audible sigh of relief as he retrieves the item that he needs for your trip.

“Got it, thank you! Never leave me, please,” he calls out when he re-enters your bedroom.

You laugh while reaching for your face wash to begin your bedtime routine. You also had a flight to catch tomorrow.

From your bathroom, you hear Namjoon scuttling around–distant sounds of drawers opening, closet doors sliding on their track, then followed by the rustling sound of things being stuffed into his suitcase.

You press your face oil gently into your skin, the last step in your skincare regimen. Afterward, you double-check your cosmetics case on the counter to make sure that you had all of your travel essentials.

From your peripheral vision, you catch his reflection in the mirror. When you lift your head, you find him leaning against the doorframe, eyeing you intently.

He wore a dorky but affectionate smile on his face while his arms were crossed over his chest.

“Lose something again?” You ask in a teasing tone.

He shook his head slowly. “I found everything I needed.”

“Well, as we always say, if we forget something, we can always buy it out there.”

He nods vaguely, not really caring about anything else. He still stood there, sporting the same grin on his face.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs.

“And yet you’re just going to stand there gawking?”

“Nah, I’m just…thinking.”

Your eyebrows lift in curiosity. You lean your hip against the bathroom counter, somewhat mirroring his posture.

“About what?”

“How lucky I am to be with you.”

Your breath hitches and your cheeks flush. “That’s it?”

“And I’m also thinking how glad I am that Celina forced us to work on that contract bid together,” he chuckled.

You laughed in turn and thought back on how your relationship began. His unexpected nostalgia piqued your curiosity.

He gently pushes off the doorframe and saunters toward you. He stopped short, lifted his hand to your cheek, and brushed it with his thumb. “You’re so beautiful, my love,” he whispered.

The sentiment made warmth bloom within your chest. Then, looking at your reflection in the mirror, you let out a soft chuckle.

“What’s so funny about what I said?” He asks.

“I mean, look at me! I look all funny,” you replied. You still had your spa headband on and looked like a glazed donut since your face oil hadn’t quite set into your skin yet.

“You know I don’t care about that,” he waved you off. “And for the record, I am looking at you. I think you’re beautiful whether you’re all done up, dressed in your sexy power suit; or bare-faced in your flannel pajamas.” He planted a soft kiss on the tip of your nose.

“Okay, what’s gotten into you?”

He shrugs, still grinning. “I’m just really looking forward to our vacation.”

But the way he smiled roused more suspicion in you. “Uh-huh, sure.”

You’d booked this trip a while ago and you had to make sure that you and Namjoon had synchronized your calendars months in advance to have a quiet, uninterrupted week where you both could unwind and reconnect.

Namjoon also insisted on booking a couple of island excursions for you, which was a shock because he didn’t usually like having scheduled activities while on vacation. We go on vacation to get away from schedules, he often said.

He remained tight-lipped about what he has planned. The only hint he’s given you was that it would be totally unexpected and to pack comfortably. It was no help to you at all.

You finally take off your headband and stow it under your skincare drawer. “I’m pretty excited, too. I can’t wait to find out what you have planned for us.”

He bit at his bottom lip to stifle a laugh. “Good. I’m glad you’re looking forward to it!” His arms snake around your waist, pulling you close to him. “Actually, while I stood back there watching you, I thought I’d give you a sneak peek of what I had planned before we leave. It’s nothing huge.” Then he squints one eye and gestures with his thumb and forefinger. “Just this small, tiny thing,” he grins mischievously.

While your mind races about this ‘surprise’, he breaks away from you and sinks his hand into his pocket. As you watch him get down on one knee, you swallow the grapefruit-sized lump in your throat. It takes you a few seconds to realize that he was holding up an open box in his hand. In it was the tell-tale ring that had been burning a hole into your brain since discovering its existence.

Your hands fly up to cover your mouth in shock at the sight of it. It was anything but small or tiny– judging by the solitaire’s cut.

“YN, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

You were completely dumbfounded. You’d thought about this moment; pictured it over and over in your head. What the scenario would be, what he would say to you, and how you would feel. You’d even planned potential outfits!

And now, it was actually happening. You’re standing in your bathroom, barefoot, dressed in a worn-out sleep shirt and your underwear.

You were so utterly overcome with emotion, the first words that come out of your mouth are, “Nooo…stop it…” You whined softly through your trembling fingers as the tears start pushing their way past your eyes.

It was not exactly the reaction nor the response that he envisioned. Confused, he asks, “I’m sorry, what? D-did you just say…‘no’?”

He also looked like he was on the verge of tears, but for a completely different reason.

When your brain cells manage to click again, you laugh through your sniffling. You hastily kneel right in front of him. “Oh, no…baby…” His face crumples at the sound of ‘no.’ Realizing your mistake again, you continue to rectify the situation. “I didn’t mean it like that,” you explain.

Finally, you grab his face in your hands, bring it closer to yours, then plant a lingering kiss on him. You look him right in his eyes, and squeal, “Yes, of course, I’ll marry you!”

He cracks a hesitant smile and in the softest voice possible, he asks, “Really?”

“Yes, Namjoon! I love you!” You kiss him again and apologize. “I was just so…overwhelmed by the moment and ...how,” You took a second to glance down at your pants-less state, “…Uhhh… comfortable, I look.” You babbled and laughed through teary eyes.

“I really didn’t mean to say ‘no’ and scare you. I panicked and it just sort of slipped out,” You were still shaking, feeling as if your heart would burst from so much joy and love for him.

He breaks into a throaty laugh, his chest and shoulders vibrating, much to your relief.

“I seriously didn’t expect this, though,” you remarked in earnest.

“Are you kidding?” He deadpans, thinking back to when you saw the ring’s order confirmation email on his phone. “You mean to tell me that you weren’t expecting this? At all?” his tone is light and teasing.

Since finding out about the ring, you’d been secretly trying to search where he’s hidden it. Your little brother, Jungkook, had been discouraging you from doing so because it would ruin the magic of the moment.

“I mean, I had hoped that it would happen during our trip,” you admit shyly.

“Hah! I gotcha there, didn’t I?” He says smugly. In reality, Namjoon had asked Jungkook to keep the ring hidden at his place after the day you found out to throw you off the scent. It worked out perfectly.

You rolled your eyes, but not in annoyance. He was being playful and you had to hand it to him; he pulled off this surprise successfully.

While still on the floor, he carefully pulls the piece of jewelry out of the box. He takes your left hand and slides the ring up your finger. It was a perfect fit! He brought your hand up to his lips to kiss it, making you feel butterflies in response.

The fluttering compels you to kiss him again, celebrating this moment. Unable to stop smiling, your cheeks feel delightfully sore through the rest of the night.

******

When you crawl into bed together later that night, he makes a confession. “You know, I wasn’t actually planning on proposing tonight,” he laughed. “I had a whole thing planned when we got to the hotel. Jungkookie helped me coordinate. Dinner by the beach, flowers, and a ukulele player. He even called one of his buddies to do this wild drone shot…”

You listen as he continues to talk about his original proposal plan. You laugh and shake your head at the extra effort that Jungkook convinced his Namjoonie-hyung to make so you can be completely blown away.

You smile in appreciation as your brother has always been supportive of your relationship from day one. It was only right that you’d still make an effort to act surprised when the dinner happened–if only to hear Jungkook’s elation at the news.

“What’s changed your mind? You don’t usually blow your load early,” you teased. He glared while you cackled then he pinches the ticklish spot on your hip bone, making you yelp and recoil your body.

He’s laughing as you try to defend yourself from another ticklish assault from him.

“I don’t know…” He shrugged. “It’s just that, I saw you standing in the bathroom. While watching you, all of these memories came flooding back. Specifically, the moment I first saw you.”

“On that web conference?” You laughed at his recollection.

He nods wistfully. “I was in denial at first but I unconsciously knew that you had me right then. So I thought–fuck it! I didn’t care about where we were or what we were doing. I just knew that I wanted to be with you…forever.”

You beamed through your happy tears and pepper him with kisses.

*******

You wake the next morning like you’ve woken just about every morning since you’ve been with Namjoon–with him pressed into your back, his lips kissing down your spine slowly and lazily. It’s blissful, mind-numbing. And, as always, your melt under the warmth of his mouth rousing you from your dreams.

The friction of your skin rubbing together takes you from warm to blazing in a snap. The feel of his morning arousal brushing your thighs awakens your senses.

You reach back, pushing your fingers through his morning mess of a hair, sighing your contentment.

“Morning,” he murmurs, peppering soft kisses on your shoulder while rolling his hips into your ass at the same time. His hands creep up from behind you to palm your breasts from underneath your shirt. You gasp softly when he gently pinches a hardened nipple.

“You ready for me, baby?”

Your body responds to his call instinctively. Your need for him is incessant. “Always.”

You reach back between you two and pull on your underwear’s waistband halfway down. Namjoon tugs on it the rest of the way through, lifting your knees up to completely rid yourself of them.

You wriggle toward him to find that he’d already stripped off his shorts. He palms your center, sucking and kissing your neck while his fingertips tease your clit.

You part your legs for him, not just wanting to give him better access but your ache for him has grown into a steady hunger.

You grind your hips into his touch, making him laugh huskily into your ear. “A little impatient, are we?”

“You started this and now you want to pump the brakes?” You sassed.

“There’s my firecracker,” he smirks before his teeth graze the shell of your ear. “Go ahead then. Put me in.”

As much as you loved when Namjoon took command during sex, it thrilled you even more when he relinquished control to you.

You reach between you two and wrap your fingers around his cock. He groans when your hand slides down his length slowly…teasing him until he groans impatiently, making him nip at your flesh. “Okay, you’ve made your point!” His annoyed protest makes you giggle mischievously.

You line him up to your center, brushing the tip against your wet folds, making him curse under his breath.

In one slow, calculated movement, he’s inside you. You grip his hair, crying out in unison once you take him to the hilt.

In an instant, you’re both floating on cloud nine, mere moments after waking. And you know that’s Namjoon’s intention each time— to start your day being reminded of how much he wanted and desired you…how much he loved you.

One look, one word from this man and he has you all worked up in a frenzy. You listen to him whisper sweet nothings in your ear, how good you make him feel, how he wishes he could spend hours and days just like this. You take comfort in the deep baritone of his just-woke-up voice. It was right on par with his bedtime voice, when he says that he wants to fuck you senseless, leaving you completely sated before you drift off for the night—thighs still trembling.

You lean into his touch, tilting your neck backward to offer your mouth to him. He takes it, tongue dipping right in, cupping your jaw whilst he savored you.

Your bodies move in perfect synchronicity like they were made specifically with each other in mind…because they were. You’d never question the sense in that especially when you’re so close and intimate like this.

“You still with me?” he whispers.

“Yes,” you manage to respond.

He pulls out of you and you let out a whine of protest. “On your stomach,” he says gruffly.

Lost in a fucked-out daze, you obey.

He slides over you while you were stretched out on your stomach. His hand pushed between your hip and the mattress, reaching between your legs to cup you in his hand. You were so wet and slick for him. You let out a muffled moan when palmed your clit.

“I want you this way,” He says, brushing his lips across your cheek.

He reaches for his pillow with this free hand and then shoves it underneath you while lifting your hips to the angle that he wanted, preferably one that would let him sink in deeper.

“Joon…” The manner in which you said his name was a plea. He’d left you empty for too long and you were anxious for him to fill you again.

He acknowledges the need in your voice. “I know, baby.” He shifts, urging your legs apart. Then, he gently presses on the small of your back, urging you to bend lower, angling your ass up higher for him.

With his hands on your hips, he slid back into you. You fisted at the sheets on either side of you, relishing the stretch to your center.

“Fuck, yesss,” you dragged out.

He picked up the rhythm, feeling the air seize from your lungs whenever his hips slam against your ass. You pressed your face hard into your pillow, gasping and moaning incoherently while he continues to pound into you mercilessly.

His teeth gritted, barely restraining the growls that surged from his throat. His chest heaved against your back, his ragged breaths ruffling the hairs on the back of your neck.

His hips churned, fucking into you; pushing in further. He could feel your walls around his length. They clench in ripples that make his cock twitch in excitement.

The pressure building up within him was persistent but he was capable of keeping it under control. He wanted to give you all the pleasure he could offer. Your moans of satisfaction are more than enough to set off his own release.

You whimper, helplessly writhing under him while he punishes you with each stroke. Reaching between your legs, you rubbed circles on your pulsing clit, making your cunt tremble then tighten around his cock in a vice-like grip.

Finally, you tip over the edge. Cumming with a loud, lingering moan.

Aroused by your orgasm, he shut his eyes and dropped his forehead to your cheek. He inhaled your scent and let go, coming just as hard, his ass flexing as he filled you.

A few beats later, Namjoon gingerly turns you over on your back, pulling the pillow from underneath you and tossing it to the side. Exhausted, he collapses on you but is careful not to squish you. Although, if you were going to be honest, you loved the feeling of his full weight on top of you.

He was crowding you now, where he will remain for the next few minutes while he snoozes on you, nuzzling and kissing your misted neck. You hold onto him and savor the moment you cherish each morning before you have to get up and head to the airport for your trip.

He rubbed his damp hair against your cheek. “Love you.”

Your head turned, your lips seeking his. Breathing into the kiss, you reply, “Love you, too.”

You sigh into his shoulder as you settle, pressing him tightly against your chest, getting him as close as you possibly can. In your own silent way, you’re telling him that you’re also happy to remain where you are.

Smiling softly, he lifts your left hand up to his lips to kiss the ring he had given you last night. Your heart squeezes, relishing in the promise of forever with him.

You’ll always think back fondly on that magical evening when you said, “No…stop it.”

Intersect Series Masterlist | Main Fic Masterlist

You’ve reached the end! Thank you so much for reading!

If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it. Help me become a better writer! 💜

Tagging: @itdoesntmatterwhy @internetjunkdrawer @purplewhalewrites @yu-justme @joonschocochip @majamarantha @yoongukie-ff @shesoldbutcute

#bts fan fiction #namjoon fan fiction #namjoon x reader #btshoneyhive #bangtantheatrenet #thekpopuniverse #namjoon fluff #namjoon smut #bts fluff #bts smut #knj fluff #knj smut #the thrill x knj #intersect x knj

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ineffectualdemon · 5 months

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Ok so having once lived in poverty, suffered painful abusive childhoods, and bearing a "will do anything to survive" mentality are things Shang Qinghua/Airplane, Shen Jiu, and Luo Binghe share thanks to their experiences growing up in the SVSSS/PIDW verse

(Note, we don't get a lot about Airplane/Shang Qinghua's childhood but he does state when he meets Shen Qingqiu that as Shang Qinghua his childhood was "destitute and miserable" so we know his second childhood was bad)

Now they handle it differently to an extent

Shen Jiu refuses to admit weakness and lashes out around him at anyone who he thinks got what he wanted naturally. He cares his anger and resentment for people who had more and more easily out in the open. He holds grudges and never bothers to explain his side because why would anyone believe him?

Shang Qinghua plays up his weakness to elicit at pity though he doesn't object to disgust as long as it ends up with him dismissed as a threat and he'll take abuse for a long time but he does have a breaking point as he has the same rage as Shen Jiu but it's boiling under the pressure for a long time. He also holds grudges and doesn't bother to speak on his own defense until he is pushed to the edge. He also lies like he was born for it

Luo Binghe is kind of a mix to the above approaches but refined. He's openly antogonistic when it serves him or Xin Mo get the better of him but he also plays up his "weaknesses" and his good boy persona when it serves him. And I don't just mean his crocodile tears for Shen Qingqiu. There is a reason he had Huan Hua under his thumb so fast. And he has a lot of rage in him too which is used by Xin Mo (though more thoroughly in PIDW). Again, he holds grudges, doesn't explain his own actions and thoughts and feelings or speak to his own defense when hate is turned on him and like Shang Qinghua is an adept liar.

They are all (if it's SVSSS Luo Binghe) also obsessed with a person who offers both protection and hurt

(side note: Shen Jiu: Mansplain, Shang Qinghua: Manipulate, Luo Binghe: Man-whore)

Anyway the above is to point out their differences and some of their similarities

But what else might they be similar in?

Speculation town-

Hidden stashes: I would not be surprised if all three of them kept stashes in case they had to run at all times. In the case of Luo Binghe and Shang Qinghua this includes after their happy endings

Trouble sleeping: We know this with Shen Jiu and how he handled it, Luo Binghe I think uses his dream abilities to feel safe and secure during sleep but it's not as restful as it could be, and Shang Qinghua overworks to avoid sleeping

...I know there are more possible but I'm tired and I still want to post this

But yeah

#svsss #shang qinghua #shen jiu #luo binghe #svsss meta

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jo-harrington · 5 months

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Incremental Planning (A Store Manager Verse Story - Steve Harrington/Reader)

Previous Part: On-The-Job Training

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Wicks'n'Sticks!Reader (you'll see)

Summary: You and Steve have been going out for a little while and he suddenly feels the need to step up his game.

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Fall 1985, Steve and Robin work at Scoops, Reader works at Wicks and Sticks (formerly at Dippin' Dots; you job hop...it's a thing), New Relationship "Troubles," Infatuation/Crush, Cute Dates, Tie in with the Store Manager Verse

Note: Dedicated to @dr-aculaaa (late bday gift), @rosewaterandivy and @carolmunson who've heard little tidbits intermittently but this has taken a minute to come together. And @ghost-proofbaby for the last date idea. Enjoy <3

You can find my masterlist here for more fics featuring pretty much exclusively Eddie Munson content but also a little Steve.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

If Steve had to pick one thing that was his best quality, it would be that he was reliable.

"Psshh, yeah right," Robin scoffed. "Reliably late to picking me up for work every day."

"Hey!" Steve argued. "I promised to drive you to school when it starts next week, so could you...I dunno...gimme a break here?"

"You don't need to do your hair every morning; I have band first period so if you could please be a little better with time, I'd appreciate it!"

"Robin!"

Reliable, unfortunately, was boring. And you were anything but boring.

Steve learned quickly that his favorite thing about you was that you changed with the seasons. If the wind blew in a different direction, so would you.

Just like the whole vanilla debacle, you were never satisfied with one flavor. Yeah you liked a root beer float for a while, but before long, you were a banana split person. And shortly after that, hot fudge.

And while changing tastes in ice cream was endearing and made him a little looser--and got him a date--it was how quickly you changed tastes in other things that had him a little worried.

"I quit Dippin' Dots!" you announced one afternoon in early September, throwing your visor at him from across the counter.

"You what?" He stared at you with wide eyes.

"I quit," you raised your eyebrows and tilted your head towards him. "Dippin' Dots."

"No I got that I just...why?" He held his hands out around him. "Rival ice cream shops. That's kind of our thing."

"Well, you're just gonna have to get a job at a rival candle store because you're looking at the new sales associate at Wicks'n'Sticks."

You grinned at him and proudly pulled the little name badge from the back pocket of your jeans, your name already engraved and everything. Steve's eyes darted between it and you, unable to comprehend that you were joking.

"No, I'm not serious," you laughed. "Unless you hate it here, which I know you do."

"Shhh, not so loud!"

"The pay sucks, you always go home sticky, and you get yelled at by every mom in Roane County for getting their order wrong. I've heard you say it enough times Steve."

You were right; he just liked sticking to routines. Routines were nice...reliable.

"So what does that mean for us?" he asked.

"Means we're just gonna have to get another thing," you offered. "Like...making out in the service corridors instead of up against the kiosk after hours."

Ok, so...he could live with that.

What worried him was, well, if you were just just dating reliable old Steve Harrington all the time, you'd get bored with him. Nancy had gotten bored with him and looked for someone...better. You'd already gotten mad at him for being slow on the uptake about the small vanilla cup. What if he was boring in some other way? What if you tired of him just like you tired of your job at Dippin' Dots?

He'd already established a routine with your dates. Movie nights on Thursdays whenever new shows came out, then dinner at Benny's on Sunday nights, and lunch at the food court on Tuesdays when your shifts aligned.

You always said you liked your "dates."

"Is that what they said?" Robin asked as he aired his fears to her on the way to school one morning. "'Dates.' With air quotes?"

"Yeah?" He stumbled over his words. "Why? What are you--why are you--what is that...is that a problem? It's our routine."

"Oh god," she groaned and slammed her head back against the headrest. "You already have a routine? Dating isn't about routines. Is this...did you have routines with Nancy?"

"Yes, why?"

"Ok, new plan of attack," she waved her hands in front of her. "New date ideas. Every week. You, Steve Harrington, are hopeless."

---

The whiteboard in the backroom suddenly became the "Date Idea Board."

Robin had told him to do it as soon as he got to Scoops, brought the board out to the counter with him. Ice cream was less popular in the mornings, it seemed, especially with kids back in school--

He could see why you jumped the Dippin' Dots ship. Aside from the handful of mall employees taking their breaks and wanting ice cream, he was bored.

--so he had plenty of time to think of something before the closing lead came in.

But the board remained blank all the way up until lunchtime.

"What did I do during school?" he threw his hands up in the air as he started towards the food court. "Movies...dinner...parking up at the quarry and making out? We haven't done that yet. I guess..."

He roared in frustration as he got in line at Hot Dog on a Stick, earning dirty looks from several lunch-goers.

"What?" he scoffed at them, and then tried to nonchalantly glance around.

And that's when Steve spotted them, tucked at a table near JCPenney, heads close together as they each held an earpad of a set of headphones connected to a walkman on the table, free hands reaching periodically for a basket of cheese fries: Eddie Munson and the Claire's manager.

It kind of made Steve a little antsy, like he was observing a private moment, the way they smiled at each other and bantered back and forth. He didn't even get this feeling watching couples make out in the hallways at Hawkins High. He wondered for a second if anyone felt that way when they saw the two of you together...

No one saw you together at the movies, or late Sunday nights at Benny's. And during lunch on Tuesdays, you definitely sat across the table from one another...not next to each other like that.

Was that it? Was that the answer? Just...go more places together. He really wished he had someone to ask about this.

And his wish was granted when Eddie looked at the time on his watch and then, with a flick of his girlfriend's dangly earrings, he ran out of the food court.

Steve abandoned his place in line and rushed across to plant himself in Eddie's vacated seat.

"Uh," the manager squinted her eyes at him in recollection. "...hi cherry lipbalm guy."

"It was strawberry, actually," he then pointed to his name tag, "and it's...Steve."

"Hi Steve," she amended and pointed to her own name tag to introduce herself.

"Hi."

It was awkwardly silent for a moment.

"I don't have any lip balm down here," she chewed her fingernail for a moment. "If that's why you stopped by. You have to go ups--"

"I need dating advice," he blurted out. "Again."

"Wha--"

"Where does Eddie take you out for dates?"

"I don't...they're not..."

"Because I...ok you remember the Dippin' Dots cashier?" he launched right into his story, despite her deer-in-the-headlights expression. "They agreed to go out with me--thanks, by the way--but they're...I'm afraid they're getting bored of our routine."

"Routine?" she winced.

"That's what Robin's reaction was too. Sorry, Robin, that's my friend, she works at Scoops too. Anyway..."

Steve continued his tale, telling her about your new job and general shift in likes and dislikes from day to day. How unpredictable you were, how much he liked that about you but how much he feared that meant you wouldn't like him before long.

"And I just...like them so much? I don't want to screw it up."

The Claires manager's expression had softened the longer he talked and once he was done and out of breath she smiled.

"Well this is a really nice development."

"That's all you have to say?" he asked incredulously.

Her expression fell.

"Listen, Steve, I only have 5 minutes left of my lunch and I'm very happy to give you advice if you need it but it seems like you don't really need it. You know what it is your friend likes, or rather...how your friend's likes change...you just need to be...spontaneous and deliver the unexpected!"

"But what is that?" He raked his hands through his hair. "What should I do? What does Eddie do?"

"Eddie doesn't..." she sighed. "You shouldn't just mimic what he does, but he's himself. He's goofy and loud and we do goofy and loud things. He likes snacks, I like snacks...we're constantly sharing food."

She gestured to the cheese fries.

"Just do what feels right? Be yourself. Incorporate them into things that you want and need to do. Need to go to the laundromat? Ask if they want to go and watch the soaps with you while your towels are in the dryer."

For a minute that didn't make much sense to him. That wasn't a date. Who went on dates like that? But...you know, once upon a time he used to watch his parents pretend to waltz as they folded bedsheets together. The love that used to be in their eyes during a menial task.

Not that this was love with you but...he knew he could be a little bit of a romantic. One day maybe...

"I do like All My Children," he finally nodded. "Ok this could work."

"No Steve, wait..." The manager held her hands out as he stood from the chair and started jogging back to Scoops.

"Thank you!" he shouted and waved.

---

Thus began the gauntlet of unexpected, inventive, spontaneous dates.

He started with the Laundromat; it was stuck in his head now and it was either going to be a win or the biggest failure he had. And you'd break up with him.

You were a little baffled when he told you his idea, but you went along with it. He picked you and your basket up promptly at 9am on Wednesday.

"Did your mom stop doing the wash for you Stevie?" you joked as you tossed your basket in the backseat.

"Ha ha," he deadpanned. He actually begged his mom not to snatch up his dirty Scoops uniforms from the hamper so he could take care of them himself. She gave him the proudest smile and a kiss on the forehead.

But he would never tell you that.

You, by chance, were a regular at the All Washed Up on Main Street. Said hello to Cheryl the Attendant, who was folding the hourly drop offs. Had your dollar bills all ready to go and you did a little dance as the change machine chugged and spat out quarters.

You took the lead for him, when he--understandably--looked a little confused.

"Obviously they don't have soap for you to use," you rolled your eyes and slotted coins into the little machine with different soaps and fabric softeners. "You need to bring it yourself. Or buy it. What do you like? Snuggle? Do you like lavender?"

But he still had a few tricks up his sleeves.

He brought Uno and a deck of cards to teach you to play Gin Rummy.

"Just like my granny taught me," he smiled and your expression melted.

And when you started shuffling your clothes into the dryers, he got snacks from the vending machine for you both.

"Dr. Pepper and HandiSnacks." He proudly handed you your treat.

"How did you know I always get this when I come do my laundry?" you held them to your chest excitedly.

---

A night at the arcade was next.

To be honest, Steve thought with everyone's latest obsession over StarCourt, he'd be free to show his face at the Palace Arcade.

Unfortunately, his heart stopped when he saw the gaggle of familiar bikes chained up outside.

"Ooh, ok what do you say to pizza after we play some games?" you asked when you saw the pizzeria further up the strip mall. When you turned to him, you noticed his stricken expression. "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing," he shrugged, trying to act cool. "No nothing, it's just...some kids I used to babysit..."

Great lie there Harrington, you still babysit them.

"...are here. Those are their bikes."

"Aww," your eyes got soft and you put on the baby voice you used to tease him sometimes. "Big bad babysitter Stevie and little his Kindergarten Crew. It'll be fine, they won't bother us playing Skee Ball."

You walked confidently into the arcade, straight to your favorite game, all while Steve sent cursory glances down each row of machines and tried to be as stealth as possible.

Like a ninja, he told Nancy once.

"Steve?" Dustin called as he spotted him ducking between a few Pac-Man cabinets. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh," Steve's eyes slid in your direction and then he waved awkwardly. "Hey Henderson, you know. Killing time."

"Max is trying to unlock a secret level of Galaga," he thumbed over his shoulder. "Maybe you can get next turn if she can't."

"I'd love to I'd just--"

"Steve?" He winced at your voice behind him. "You coming?"

"Yeah," he shot you a smile and then turned back to Dustin with murderous eyes. "I was just telling this little twerp to beat it."

"This one of the kids?" you sidled up next to him and smiled at Dustin. "Hey."

"Hey!" He got a sly look on his face and wiggled his eyebrows at Steve, who looked positively livid. "You on a date there, Harrington old boy?"

"Who are you, Jay Gatsby? I like you," you laughed at Dustin and then clapped a hand on Steve's shoulder. "I like this kid; you might as well introduce me to all the little rascals. It'll explain why you're such a PTA mom all the time."

Steve groaned as Dustin grabbed your arm and dragged you over to the rest of the kids, but he couldn't help the way his heart skipped a beat when you gave him a look of sheer glee and affection.

Maybe he was doing something right?

---

He blindfolded you for the next date--the last idea he had for this two week sprint full of creative dates--although...he might not have needed to do it for the whole car ride.

"Steve I'm gonna be sick," you had groaned pathetically from the passenger's seat of his car.

But it was worth it.

He'd gone to the mall office to grab the mail--who knew stores at the mall got mail--when he saw a pamphlet for local tourist attractions and he'd been inspired.

The Fort Wayne Children's Zoo.

You were in awe, it's such a sweet date idea.

The two of you held hands as you dodged groups of field trip goers, parents with their kids on playdates, and other bored adults. You told him fun facts about your favorite animals and his.

"I always wanted to be," you told him, nose scrunched in embarrassment. "I dunno...a vet or a...marine biologist or something. One of those big jobs that kids always dream about. Now I work at StarCourt Mall and I'm on the verge of finding a new job again."

"So do I," he chuckled. "At least you've thought about your future. I sort of never did."

"There's always time," your eyes sparkled. "We're still young and have our whole lives ahead of us. I've been looking at pamphlets for the Tri-County Community College. We could take classes in the next semester."

"Yeah?" he asked, slyly. "We?"

"Shut up," you pushed him to the side.

"Didn't know you'd still plan on dating me next year."

"Why not?"

Steve shrugged but kept his mouth shut, and then steered you towards your final destination.

The Reef.

So it wasn't a full aquarium, but it was close enough. He couldn't drive you all the way out to Indianapolis without arousing suspicion. Besides, the Reef had enough of an array of colorful marine life to make you happy. You gushed over all of the different fish that you recognized as the two of you wound through the small aquarium building.

You'd actually told him about your dream career as a kid before and he'd stored that little tidbit away. Pulled a favor with his mom to pull a favor with someone she knew and low and behold--

"Steve!" you exclaimed as you saw the little setup on the bench in front of the tank of Moon Jellies, an assortment of sandwiches and sodas basking in the blue glow emitted from behind the glass. "What's this?"

"Surprise!" He held his hands out a little pathetically. "The real date...not just the zoo but...a little picnic too."

"I love it!" you laughed.

"You do?" he beamed in relief. "I've...I've really been trying. I know...you're always so...and Robin said I was boring, so I thought maybe we could try some new dates. Not just...dinners and movies. I wanted to make you happy. Make you smile."

He kept rambling on about the other ideas he had, but then confessed that he sort of missed late dinners at Benny's on Sundays because he got to hold your hand across the table. He didn't notice the way your gaze got softer as he said the things that you'd been thinking all day--because these spontaneous dates were great but you missed the sweet dinners at Benny's and the movie nights where you made out in the back row at the Hawk during boring scenes--or how you inched closer you him until your hands were caressing his cheeks and your lips descended on his.

From the outside looking in, it was almost picturesque.

Something from a John Hughes movie as the two of you rocked back and forth in the glow of the jellyfish tank and one big smooch turned into little sweet ones, soft lips pecking at each other, over and over. Tasting the words that you each wanted to say to one another but...didn't quite have the courage to.

Yet.

Next Part: Developmental Achievement

#stranger things fic #Steve harrington x reader #Steve harrington fic #store manager verse #Steve harrington fluff #scoops steve

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eregyrn-falls · 1 year

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Organizing a Stan Twins-centric Multi-Artist Lyric Comic!

There's a song I've always wanted to see as an AMV or a lyric comic for the Stan Twins, and years pass, and I've never been able to tackle a project that big. So, I wanted to try to organize it as a multi-artist lyric comic!

The song is "Trouble", by Avicii. (See below.)

What is a multi-artist lyric comic? One where people sign up, and each artist is assigned a line from the song. Artists will then do 1 page for their line, and at the end, it's all put together. Here is an example from GF fandom in 2018. (Here is a video version that someone put together with the music.)

This song has 28 lines of lyrics, but it also has some instrumental breaks, and I've thought of a way to fill those that would allow more people to participate (particularly if someone was unsure if they could take on a full page).

Here's the song:

youtube

There's a lot of details to go into, so to keep this post from taking up too much dash real estate, I'm going to put more detail below a read-more.

Here is a link to a Google form you can fill out to indicate interest. (But we do urge you to read over the details below!)

The goal would be to complete this in time to make it public on August 31st or Sept. 1st, 2023 -- in line with the actual last days in-story of the show. Therefore, the due date for final art will likely be around August 15th or 20th.

I hope folks will find this intriguing! I think it could be a lot of fun!

@mercury-falls and I are the point-people for this, at the moment!

All right -- the way I've always seen it, the first verse of the song is very Stan-related, and the second verse is very Ford related.

Here is a Google Doc with the lyrics.

My idea for the instrumental breaks was to have people contribute smaller pieces of art that look a bit like Polaroid snapshots. If we can get the lyric comic combined with the music, think of the collection of Polaroids accumulating the way they do at the end of the show's opening credits.

There are two main ways artists can contribute to the project:

For lyrics, full landscape illustrations (which include color, lettering, and a background)

For instrumental breaks, polaroid-style illustrations (smaller, simpler pieces in square format). We will use these in a video edit of the comic and have them accumulate like the show’s intro during the breaks. (We will also figure out a good way to display them in the lyric-comic post itself.)

Your art should be canon-compliant, and can depict any time period of the Stans’ lives (past, present, and near-future)! Do with your art as you best see fit with your lyrics, but keep the focus on the Stans and their relationships with each other and other GF characters. Both original content and screenshot adaptations are welcome!

We also welcome collaborations between artists on full pages! We encourage every artist in the project to help and support each other if they are comfortable. On the interest form, you can tell us if you are interested in volunteering to help others with inking, coloring, or creating backgrounds! Or, you can tell us if you think you will need help.

On the form, you can indicate your preference towards the Stan or Ford verses. But once we have the team of artists doing lyrics chosen, we will randomize the list and then contact people in order, to ask about preferences for lyrics. If you aren't chosen for one of the full pages, we would still like to have you involved for the Polaroids! (And you can indicate willingness to be called on to do a page if others drop out.)

We will have check-in dates through the summer, with goals for people to report on the subject of their piece; to have a sketch or layout ready to show; and to show progress closer to the end.

We will be setting up a Discord server to help share information, and to allow people to post WIPs or just generally discuss things, and keep motivation going. If you really don't use Discord, though, and don't want to sign up for it, that's okay. We will put whatever instructions and details we have in a Google Doc, and will share that link for reference. And we can always communicate via email.

I (Eregyrn speaking!) have been involved in a LOT of fan projects over the years. One of the key things to ask of people who sign up for a project is: communication. That is, if you're having difficulties, just let us know! If you need to drop out, just let us know! Don't feel guilty that you signed up and then had to drop out. The thing that is hardest on organizers of projects like this is when people sign up, but disappear and don't answer DMs or emails. Believe me, I've been in that position where you feel guilty and don't want to admit that you have to drop out -- but it's always much easier on the organizers if you just let them know, instead of keeping them guessing! This is just something to keep in mind when you're signing up -- life happens! It's okay! But please try to let us know if something comes up and you have to bow out.

Here is the link to the Google Form, that you can fill out to indicate interest.

#gravity falls #stanford pines #stanley pines #sea grunks!#lyric comics #trouble lyric comic #multi artist project #multi artist lyric comic

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scarlettscribbles · 5 months

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prologue

PART OF neither the angels in heaven above, nor the demons by the sea DRABBLE SERIES ↠ masterlist

- Lucy Gray Baird & Daughter!OC, mentioned Lucy Gray Baird x Coriolanus Snow

Summary: 1.7k words - The words were on the tip of her tongue before Coriolanus had let it slip that he'd killed three people.

As Lucy Gray became a ghost lost in the wind, so did her secrets.

a/n: i cannot stop thinking about snowbaird !! inspired by my visenya-verse and also bc i love writing about children being loved :)

also, shout out to PlayingTheGameOfThrones' It's Quiet Uptown! i was reading snowbaird fics and i was so happy to find a secret kid fic. literally squealed in excitement bc i was like, that's what's literally in my brain rn

In truth, Lucy Gray was too young to be doing this. Halfway eighteen, with her heart broken by a man — a boy, really — who almost killed her. Ironically, the suspect of her current predicament was the same person. Oh how Lucy Gray hated it that he still haunted her now.

She had Lucy Gray’s tan skin, her baby girl. The wisps of her hair stuck against her forehead were bright blond. Lucy Gray wondered if her hair would darken eventually.

Annabel Rose Baird was a sickly baby. Her heart was weak and every night, Lucy Gray would have trouble sleeping, afraid that she’d wake up with a cradle gone cold. But she was a survivor, her Annie. Much like her mother. (And father.)

But they could not live on that alone. Lucy Gray, barely recovered from birth, wrapped her baby tight on her back with a sling and took their meager belongings in a bag, setting out to find the community up North Billy Taupe had once talked about. Lucy Gray walked for miles and miles, sometimes wishing she hadn’t left behind that lovely orange scarf her lover gave her. It would’ve made for a more comfortable sleep in their journey. She could’ve given it to Annie as her baby blanket, something to remember her childhood by — the one piece of her father she would ever know or keep. But alas, Lucy Gray had left it behind along with the broken pieces of trust she once thought she could rely on.

Lucy Gray found them eventually. Or rather, they found her. It was in the middle of the night and she’d just put Annie to sleep when flashes of light shone through the gaps between the trees. Cradling her whimpering baby close to her chest, Lucy Gray raised a hand in surrender, hoping that she was saying the right words for them to not shoot her.

They took them to their leader and gave them a small cabin. It was cozy and comfortable but it wasn’t home. Not when their leader, with his calculating eyes and access to Capitol broadcasts, look at her and her baby with such intense scrutiny. Lucy Gray’s paranoia increases every time he “accidentally” chances upon her with questions about the Capitol, about the Hunger Games, about Annie. He’s not as subtle as he thinks he is. Lucy Gray endures his questions, answering casually to alleviate the suspicion upon her. Her heart threatens to beat out of her chest every single time. She could only properly breathe again when she’s back within the four walls of their cabin, with Annie safe in her arms, her little puffs of breath warming Lucy Gray from the inside out.

The one saving grace of the place was Dr. Hartree. She was training under some big shot Capitol doctor when she fled, so she knew more than the District healers did despite the meager hospital equipment she had. She diagnosed Annabel Rose with something called moderate Ventricular Septal Defect; a heart disease she had since birth. Dr. Hartree let her listen to the whooshing sound of her Annie’s heartbeat through the stethoscope. Her baby’s got a hole in her heart. Lucy Gray wept.

Dr. Hartree said that the hole might yet repair itself, that she could look for some medicine that could help strengthen Annie’s heart muscles. But if it did not, Annie would need heart surgery which Dr. Hartree was neither qualified for nor equipped to do. In that scenario, going to the Capitol would be Annie’s best hope, said the doctor. The community’s leader approved Dr. Hartree’s request for getting the medicine. In exchange, Lucy Gray had to take on additional work on top of what she’d already been assigned with to earn her keep. Lucy Gray was both thankful and suspicious. She was no fool, a big favor like that didn’t come without heavier strings. But her baby was alive so Lucy Gray kept her head down. (For the moment, at least.)

Annabel Rose grew up a happy child. She was small for her age but her presence filled the room and her heart was so full of love. Whenever she smiled, a deep dimple showed on her cheek and her warm brown eyes would shine like stars in the night sky. Her baby never did grow out of her blond hair, riotous curls tumbling down her head. She looked like an angel; Lucy Gray’s own angel.

She was truly heaven sent. There were no words to describe how much her daughter made her happy, which was something, coming from a songwriter. Oft Lucy Gray wished the Covey had a chance to know her daughter. Annabel Rose fit in alright with the children of the community, but children can be cruel sometimes. Annie’s body was weak and she ran out of breath fast, making her unable to be included in strenuous physical activities. Lucy Gray was not deaf to the whispers of “runt” that surrounded her daughter, whispers that eventually reached Annie’s ears, causing her to come home tearfully, fisting her mother’s skirt and asking what it meant. Once upon a time, Lucy Gray would have been rearing for a fight but everything was different now. She didn’t have her Covey; her and Annie were alone.

Oh, people were nice enough but, like in District 12, they seemed to be able to sense an otherness in her and Annie that made them unable to accept them fully. It didn’t help that the community leader’s demeanor was like that either. The residents liked and respected him better than the strangers they barely knew anything about, so of course they’d follow his example.

Lucy Gray had been missing her Covey so much that she contemplated going back to District 12, back to her family, when she’d heard that an electric fence was put around it, complete with Peacekeepers patrolling the perimeter. They’d never bothered with that area before, but Lucy Gray had an inkling why they suddenly found it important.

So what else could she do but grit her teeth and bear it? Every night Lucy Gray would sing songs to Annie and tell her stories about the Covey, about her family and the colorful nights and laughter they shared. And Annie’s eyes would shine in the low lamplight, humming along to the tunes.

Lucy Gray did not bring her guitar with her during her journey out of District 12, but she was able to obtain a smaller version — a ukulele — from a traveling salesman. His initial offer nearly took all her saved up money to pay for, but she was able to haggle down to a more reasonable price. At 3-years-old, Annabel Rose learned the basic chords from her mother. The first song she learned was to the tune of Lucy Gray's namesake.

It tugged at Lucy Gray’s heartstrings to hear her Annie’s sweet voice in the warmth of their home. She resolved to write a song for her daughter’s fourth birthday as a gift. Lucy Gray had her song, and so did her Capitol boy. It was only apt that Annabel Rose had one too.

It was the night of Annabel Rose's fourth birthday when everything went wrong. Lucy Gray was humming underneath her breath to the tune of a new song, their tiny kitchen fragrant with the smell of a birthday cake she’d stolen half the ingredients for to bake. She lit up a deformed red candle she attempted to mold from whatever melted wax she could find, cupping the flame between her palms briefly to keep it from being blown out. With a satisfied sigh, she wiped her hands on her apron and walked to the bed to shake her daughter awake.

All Lucy Grey felt was the cold skin of her daughter, her breathing shallow and her skin tinged blue. Her heart dropped to her stomach. With shaking hands, she wrapped Annie in a blanket and lifted her into her arms.

On the way to Dr. Hartree’s cabin, Lucy Gray would not realize that she’d been singing the song she’d written for Annie. And she will sing it under her breath while the good doctor examined her daughter, telling her the heart defect had gotten worse. She’d sing it at the back of her mind while Dr. Hartree tells her that surgery wasn’t an option anymore, that the medicine Annie’ll need is only available in the Capitol, that if she wants her baby to live she’ll need to find some way to get her a heart transplant. She’ll sing it and sing it, hoping the girl she’d written it for would awaken long enough to sing it with her.

She would only stop when Dr. Hartree clasped her hands, telling her in a hushed whisper that she’d found a way to get them to the Capitol discreetly. The doctor’s got family among the Peacekeepers in District 12 who was going to go to the Capitol in two days. Some officer fellow that was high-ranking enough to have his own private train cabin, and kind enough to share it with them. Dr. Hartree had given her temporary antibiotics for Annie with an apology that she couldn’t do anything more. When they arrive in the Capitol, Lucy Gray was on her own. Lucy Gray who had no penny to her name, who would probably be shot on sight once the Capitol had caught wind of her existence.

Her mind was racing on the morn she and a barely-lucid Annie snuck out to the gates. They were met with a heavyset man two heads taller than Lucy Gray, driving a military jeep. Time passed quickly and they encountered no hurdles getting to the train station on time. He lent them warm Capitol-style cloaks so they could blend in upon arrival. He’d even made her a cup of tea, noticing the nervousness in her demeanor. Lucy Gray had not been expecting such kindness from a Peacekeeper, no matter how highly Dr. Hartree spoke of him.

It was nighttime when they arrived, snow falling heavily on the ostentatious buildings. It wasn’t only the cold that made Lucy Gray shiver.

Under the cover of the night, Lucy Gray held her Annabel Rose and rapped on the door of the one she’d hoped would help them. If blood was not an enough reason, she could always appeal to their conscience.

The door swung open.

“Tigris, I need your help.”

#snowbaird #snowbaird drabble #snowbaird kidfic au #lucy gray baird #original child character #tbosas #the hunger games #i've only seen the movie so characterizations are probably off but i just wanna have fun ok

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bellaturner · 10 months

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I Wanna Be Yours

I suck at titles, sorry 🥹

i'm not sure what this is, it doesn't have smut but its also not fluff (?)

Summary: you always had a crush on Alex, but he's your big brother's friend so you try to hide your feelings.

Warnings: none? (soft dom Alex if you squint a lot)

1,1k words (it was supposed to be a blurb, help)

Part 2 ✧ Masterlist

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The final verses of "R U Mine?" reverberated through the venue, creating an electric atmosphere. As the lights dimmed, you joined the rest of the band at the side of the stage, soaking in the energy of the crowd.

"Hey, Bear!" you exclaimed, jumping into your brother's arms and giving him a tight hug. "Congrats, Matt. You killed it!"

"Thanks, little demon," he chuckled, hugging you back. Matt, your older brother, was always close to you.

Having graduated from high school the previous year, you were still figuring out your path in life. So when Matt offered you the opportunity to join the Arctic Monkeys on their AM tour, you jumped at the chance. Who could say no to traveling the world, experiencing new places, and immersing yourself in live music almost every night? It was a dream come true, and the best part was being close to Alex, the man who made your heart skip a beat.

"You guys rocked it too!" you yelled, offering a smile to Nick and Jamie, who were enjoying a well-deserved break with cans of beer from the minibar in the corner.

You noticed Alex was missing. It was his habit to disappear for a good twenty minutes after shows, needing time to decompress.

Matt led you to the private rooms at the back of the venue. "Come on, trouble," he grinned, guiding you. "We need to gather our stuff. The bus leaves in an hour."

"Roger that, Captain!" you playfully responded, eagerly following him. Every second of this experience felt like a thrill, and you were grateful to Matt for bringing you along. The entire journey was incredible, but being able to spend time close to Alex was undoubtedly the highlight for you.

Your heart had always belonged to him, but you knew the boundaries that existed. Alex Turner, the charismatic front man and sexiest man alive, was older than you and one of your brother's closest friends. In reality, he was unattainable, being your only in dreams.

As you opened the door to the room, ready to gather your belongings for the next destination, you froze. There, seated on the sofa, was Alex. He appeared lost in thought, his hair styled back with a single strand teasingly falling on his forehead, adding to his undeniable appeal.

"Oh, fuck! I'm so sorry, Alex," you stammered, preparing to leave and give him his space.

"Don't worry about it, Y/N," he reassured you with a warm smile.

"I'll just grab my things and be out of your way in a second," you said, hurrying to pack up your makeup, which had been scattered during the band's final rehearsal.

"Well, take your time. You've already ruined my night," he joked, breaking the tension in the room.

That had become your dynamic over the years. Playful banter and teasing served as a mask for the feelings that simmered beneath the surface. It was a coping mechanism, a way to hide your emotions and maintain a sense of normalcy.

"That's for not playing my favorite tonight, mister," you shot back, a mischievous grin forming on your lips.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Is the little Helders' princess upset?" he retorted, mockingly pouting.

"Shut up, Turner!" you laughed, attempting to finish packing your makeup bag. However, your clothes were scattered all around the room.

You plopped down on the floor, gathering the articles of clothing and stuffing them into your bag. Your eyes wandered the room, searching for the dress you had worn earlier.

"Alex, have you seen my dress?" you asked.

"This one?" he said, holding up the fabric from the sofa beside him.

"Yep, that's the one," you replied, extending your arms toward him. "Throw it over, will ya?"

He playfully balled up the dress and tossed it in your direction, making you giggle.

"Found this as well," Alex whispered, his voice low and filled with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine and made you look up.

Your eyes widened as you saw him holding your bra by the strap in his hand. Heat rushed to your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and arousal. You got up and reached for it.

"Not so fast, miss," he teased, pulling his hand back.

You let out an exasperated sigh, trying to regain your composure. "Alex, seriously? Can you just give it back?" you muttered.

His gaze held a mischievous glint as he got up and closed the distance between you, his hand still holding your bra captive. You could feel his breath on your face, sending a tingling sensation down your spine.

"Beg for it," he whispered playfully, his voice filled with a seductive undertone.

Rolling your eyes, you decided to play along. "Oh, please, dear sir, may I have my undergarment back?" you exaggeratedly pleaded, adding a touch of theatricality to your request.

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well, since you asked so nicely," he said, relinquishing your bra and handing it over with a flourish.

You snatched it from him, attempting to maintain a composed facade. "Thanks," you mumbled, turning away to pack it into your bag, hoping to hide the flustered expression on your face.

Alex's playful nature always sparked a connection between you, blurring the lines of your friendship. Though you enjoyed the light-hearted banter, it sometimes made you question the true nature of your relationship.

With your belongings finally in order, you glanced at Alex, who was standing there with a lopsided grin. The tension between you was palpable, a mixture of unspoken desires and hidden emotions.

"Are you done teasing me now?" you quipped, trying to regain your composure.

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, husky tone. "Teasing you? Oh, love, you have no idea what I'm capable of."

"Come on, Alex, cut it out," you said, flustered.

"Baby, I've noticed the way you look at me when you think I'm not watching," he confessed, his breath warm against your skin. "All this playful rudeness? Do you think you can fool me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Alex," you protested, your hands trembling slightly.

"But I think you do, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice filled with desire.

"Alex, I can't. You're Matt's friend and…" your words trailed off as Alex's lips crashed onto yours.

His lips were soft yet demanding, and without hesitation, his tongue explored the depths of your mouth. You responded eagerly, letting all the suppressed feelings for him surge to the surface. There was no denying your desire.

Caught up in the moment, Alex's grip tightened, his fingers tangling in your hair. A soft moan escaped your lips as the kiss deepened, and all rational thought faded away.

"Hey, Y/N, have you seen my—"

Matt's voice abruptly cut through the air, freezing both you and Alex in your tracks. The room fell into an uncomfortable silence as Matt's gaze locked onto the scene before him. His expression turned from confusion to anger in a matter of seconds.

"What the fuck is going on here?" his voice was filled with disbelief.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Hiii!

Sorry for taking forever to post a new fic, I've been having a rough time lately (I have a thousand drafts but can't finish any of them lol).

This was a request by 💐anon, I hope you like it babee 💕

~ Bella

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doodle-pops · 4 months

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House of Finarfin | Being In An Arranged Marriage With Them

A/N: I've been painfully pinning for more. The only thing to note once more is that all of these takes place in Valinor, in a no-darkening verse. Here's our golden-hair boys!!

Warnings: arranged marriage, dispute, resentment, feeling of loneliness and neglect, there are fluff and soft themes, love at first sight, comfort, happy-ending in Aegnor (because I have a soft spot for him, he’s my baby)

Arranged Marriage AU: Nolofinweans ver.

₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆ Finarfin

As much as Finarfin attempts to hide his disappointment, it’s visible to the point that you tremble by simply being in his presence during the hearing. You’re sitting on the opposite side of the table and he’s silent the entire time, eyes darting between glaring at his father and looking intently at you.

Truth be told, Finarfin is a gentle and wise soul and he’s aware that you’re both being forced into a situation neither of you wants to be in. He doesn’t have the heart to be rude or mean towards you. The most he would do is keep a distance until he can wrap his head around the situation.

He’ll speak with you, should you ask him questions; he’ll answer and converse. However should you remain silent, he’ll attempt to crack the ice or allow the silence to run its course. There are times when he’s torn between deciding if he should make it work or continue maintaining the distance since it was forced upon him.

As a man of respect, he’ll ask to speak privately with you, wanting to have your honest opinion on the situation and whether or not you have a secret lover on the side before deciding his moves.

“I know this was forced upon us both and neither of us is pleased, however, I’m not fond of the uncomfortable silence growing between us and would like to make something possible. But firstly, I’d like to know if there’s someone apart from me? A secret lover? If not, I would be pleased if an acquaintance could blossom between us, otherwise, I would understand and keep a respectable distance.”

If there isn’t anyone in your life and it’s just you and Finarfin, he’ll make his move to develop some sort of friendship between you both, remembering to not overstep your boundaries. A simple arm in the crook of his elbows or walking shoulder to shoulder, also practising to appear comfortable with physical affection in public.

He would harbour feelings towards his father for ruining his chance of going out there to find actual love, nevertheless, he never makes you feel unworthy of being cared for by him. Attempts at building comfort would be his priority.

Of course, not everything is sunshine and rainbows. There are moments when he is roused through his divine senses and stumbles upon your weeping figure somewhere in the house. During these moments, your vulnerability is revealed which brings you closer.

Private conversations about how neither of you believed your lives to end up this way and how much turmoil you must both face because of the new lifestyle to adapt to. Finarfin will be honest in a modest manner and admit that he also felt the same despite the friendly act, but genuinely wants something positive to blossom.

To the public eye, you two are considered the perfect example of what a couple should be like, however, behind closed doors, they aren’t aware of how troubled you both are as you’re trying to overcome obstacles and endure the arrangement.

₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆ Finrod

It comes as a massive shock to him when his father delivers the news that he must commit to the arrangement made between him and your family. Never in all of Finrod’s life, he would suspect his father of denying him a chance to find love and explore the world to settle down for an arranged marriage.

Finrod is sulky and visible displeasure is plastered across his face as he listens to arrangements being made. You on the other hand weren’t spared from his behaviour (though it wasn’t directed at you).

Of course, Finrod disagrees with everything every chance he gets which causes an issue. He’d be told to excuse the room due to obstruction and stumble out pissed as hell about the situation. Definitely the type of drink his stress away all to forget the horrible conversation of feeling like he and you were objects being sold away like cattle.

Not a great way to be introduced to your future husband, but the most you can do to set the record straight is show him you cared whether or not you were intended. You saw him as a person nonetheless and wished only the best for him. Due to this, it would change some of Finrod’s perspective of you to witness your gentle nature.

Now Finrod isn’t disrespectful towards you or anyone, only displeased at the situation. With this in mind, he will care you for like he does with anyone, however, things would be mostly kept at the friendship level for a lengthier time. For the longest period, Finrod would keep you at a great distance due to how clouded his mind and heart were at the situation before noticing that something could possibly be.

“You must forgive me if I’m dragging this…situation out longer than it should be. It’s just, that I am still unaccustomed to an occurrence like this, and to simply overlook the reasons and be merry is challenging. However, I promise to treat you with respect and kindness.”

There will be days when Finrod isn’t at home because he’s out adventuring across the lands, when he returns, he comes bearing gifts. It might not be the typical gifts you would expect from his excavation, nevertheless, he thought of you. He would do his best to involve himself in your crafts or trade, wanting to show his interest while he hopes you would reciprocate.

As time progresses, your friendship will blossom and develop your comfort around one another. Having breakfast, lunch dates and dinner would become more frequent, sharing a hug and a kiss on the hand or cheek would lack awkwardness and becoming mentally vulnerable is more common.

Marriage between you both would come soon, however, you two wouldn’t escalate your friendship into something more until years into your marriage. Finrod isn’t the type to just go with the flow when it hinders his opinions and emotions. He would prefer to ensure a secure friendship over a broken and forced romantic relationship.

₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆ Angrod

He’s the most disgruntled of them all and it is shown in the way he greets you and everyone upon learning of the news. Like his elder brother, he’s dissatisfied with the agreement his father and mother would make without his opinion. To simply drop his single life and be forced into pursuing a marriage to a complete stranger is unacceptable.

From the beginning, he’s distant. Barely speaks and acknowledges your presence, treating you as though you had some hand in arranging your marriage. Once you realise where you stood on the scale of people he despised because of this arrangement, you’d maintain your distance and only politely greet him when he was around.

If you were in the same room or table, you’d be on the opposite side unless you had to appear as a couple. Because of his distance behaviour in the beginning, it makes it impossible to accomplish anything to make it work for the public eye. All you wanted was some closure to make this work, even if it meant remaining acquaintances who understood they were victims.

You would be the one to plant your foot down, tired of being treated without an ounce of remorse and like the villain.

“Please, all I’m asking is for you to understand, I’m the same as you and I had nothing to do with it. I know you don’t like this…or me; you probably have someone else you love, but at least acknowledge I’m not the one to blame. I only want us to be relaxed, not be truly in love; friendship is also welcomed.”

He’d feel like dick for treating you like one when you’ve been trying to smooth things over with him all these months. All the days when you avoided him or didn’t speak with him were due to his unpleasantness, it would dawn on him that this was not the way he was taught to treat someone.

He’s the only person who would take forever to come around and welcome you as a so–so friend. Angrod would begin to spend mornings or lunchtimes with you, making small conversations to break the ice and see that you’re not as horrible as he assumed. This doesn’t mean he’s going to go out of his way to become an absolute gentleman; he’s still maintaining his distance.

As your days morph into weeks and months, having breakfast, lunch and dinner becomes a norm, and stepping into public also. He would have mastered being composed holding you closely and defending you should anyone ill–talk about you. At times, he would catch himself slipping away into a hearty conversation as though you’ve been longtime buddies.

There is awkwardness and tension still present all the way into your marriage, yet, as he progresses into understanding your stance and opinion on the situation, he slowly becomes vulnerable.

₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆ Aegnor

Disappointed at the news but slightly intrigued by who he’s being paired with to spend the rest of his life. There’s a gloomy atmosphere over him as he’s sitting beside his parents, listening to them prattle forever about the joys of uniting the family while he’s listening for any clues to determine your identity.

Profanities and problems are arising the same way his elder brother Finrod did; complaining and throwing everyone off with their speech to have them say the wrong words so that he could get out of the arrangement.

It’s only after the meeting is over and he’s allowed the privacy of being introduced to you, that his frown flips upside down at the sight of how beautiful his spouse is. He’s spellbound and frozen in his spot as you come over to introduce yourself, entirely enthralled and compliments you immediately without being aware.

What a perfect way to break the tension and fear you were experiencing during the entire planning. Aegnor washes everything away with his charming smile and youthful persona as he feels light on his feet, falling in love.

“You are too beautiful to be my spouse; you would steal my spotlight which I have no hesitation in giving. I fear it is I who is unfit for this arrangement, I do not entirely appear suitable to be your husband. You deserve someone who is equally stunning and handsome as you are, Your Grace.”

I hate to say it, but he’s a hopeless romantic and would be the only sibling to fall head over heels in love you with over the duration of time leading to your wedding. Spending breakfast, lunch, dinner and all his spare time learning the most about you. All the anger that he had during the preparations has dissipated and he’s all about romance and being appreciative.

If there was any rumour about him hating the idea of being in an arranged marriage circulating, he shut it down and made it clear that such words were never spoken and ceased to exist. He’s a grateful ellon proud to have you as his spouse.

Of all his siblings and even his father, Aegnor would be the one to make this arrangement a success, being the first to fall in love and truly pursue a genuine relationship. He doesn’t attempt the friendship path like everyone else, he dives directly into the fire.

Respectful of your personal space and wouldn’t encroach unless you initiate hand–holding or bestowing a kiss to his cheek (he’ll turn tomato if you do so). All physical interactions are lovingly returned; full of meaning and he’ll throw in a ‘My love’ at the end of each.

There isn’t much to worry about when it comes to this arrangement between you and Aegnor. He’ll maintain any annoyance he has away from the relationship, wanting to make it work because he sees that you’re trying. He comes to your defence and stands up to anyone ill–treating you.

Masterlist

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