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svchengss · 3 years

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king of hearts | d.sc

PAIRING. dong sicheng x reader

GENRE. high school!au, fluff, slight angst, kind of e2l

WARNINGS. none (lmk if i missed any!)

WORD COUNT. 6.7k

SUMMARY. sicheng’s subtle flirts are not working effectively but it only motivates him to try and woo you more. the devil sure works hard but dong sicheng works harder.

PLAYLIST. king of hearts

TAGLIST. @floraljae @clovdless @mashiihearts @ndr1271 @kunrengui (shoutout to mashi for being a major help in the process of writing this <3)

// just to let you guys know, reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !! thank you for reading :D

music was blaring through the multiple loudspeakers scattered around the school grounds, booths of various interests that were set-up by the clubs being swarmed by visitors and ecstatic oohs and aahs from the ones playing games can be heard intermittently. the annual school festival of redlands high, an event that is looked forward to by every single student there. or maybe not, you’re quite unsure of the self-made data.

you immediately made a beeline to the dance club booth which is managed by yangyang, the president also holding the title of your best friend. a cartoonish grin crept up on his face when he spots you walking towards him.

“so, what do you think? looks legit, huh?” he crossed his arms together, observing the design of the booth with a proud smile. the set-up is definitely eye-catching, not much decorations going on, adding to the simplicity of the white theme with gold touch-ups. you browsed through the plastered posters on the board, inviting people to sign up for their upcoming audition. looking up to the signboard hanging outside, you showed a thumbs up towards him, muttering a quick ‘perfect’.

“so what exactly is your booth doing? there’s not much… activity going on?” you scratched the non-existent itch on your left eyebrow. the boy in front of you gave you an eye roll before explaining that there will be mini dance games - or just dance as he worded. an amused sound left your lips as you bent down, dropping your signature in the guestbook on the wooden table.

“are you coming to the stage shows tonight? i heard there’s a new band performing,” your ears perked up instinctively upon hearing the words. after your sister graduated high school, nobody paid any attention to keep the band going. the zikas, a trio that made the music club strive back then. either the newer batches were too lazy to make an effort or too scared if they weren’t up to the already high standards of the school.

“i’m going if you’re going,” you simply stated, which made yangyang flash you the same grin from before. you said your simple goodbyes when people started lining up to try the just dance game at his booth. after he reminded you to wait for him by the statue, you went off to check out the food sales, eager to fill your growling stomach since this morning.

you can do this, sicheng. you can do this.

he made sure to double check the tuning of his guitar for one last time before joining the rest of his bandmates on the stage. his tall and slim physique surely left an impact, seeing that some of the audience suddenly became more invested in the performance compared to the others. he’s wearing some band’s shirt - probably green day since it’s quite similar to your sister’s posters in her room, black leather jacket and his black hair middle parted. not to miss the silver pendant necklace on his neck, sparkling under the spotlight.

the moment he struck the pick through the strings of his electric guitar, the drummer and bassist followed after, producing a melody that is pleasing to your ears. he held the microphone closer to his mouth, singing the lyrics as you bobbed your head up and down to the covers they sang - american idiot and helena are the ones you recognized since you’ve heard the songs so often. yangyang on the other hand kept on sipping the chocolate milkshake in his hand, vibing with the music as well.

the next song was a sentimental one which you assumed is a self-composed one, since you’ve never heard this song before. before you know it, the performance is over and the audience have started packing up their belongings to hang out somewhere else or go home.

“good job everyone, we did well,” yuta, who played the bass earlier, high-fived the rest of the band with a sly grin on his face. guanheng chugged the mineral water down his throat before stashing his drumsticks into the bag while sicheng was lost in his thoughts. he doesn’t know why but you stood out from the crowd, only able to see you just now. he wouldn’t say it’s a crush, not knowing anything about you but it definitely made him feel something. a trigger in his heart, not knowing where it leads to. but what he does know is that you caught his attention.

“and you know what he said? i’ll come back crawling to him just like his other exes. what the heck is even that?” you took out the binders from your locker while listening to ningning rant about her love life. since you haven’t had any relationships before, you’re not really a professional in this aspect of life so you just kept your mouth shut to avoid giving useless advice.

“that sounds so rude, he’s such a jerk,” you commented, taking the first bite of your sandwich afterwards. the tea-spilling session eventually came to an end when she reached her class first and you kept walking to mrs. walker’s, english being your first period. nothing exciting really happened in that class except someone got their phone confiscated for texting in class - just the usual things. classes later, it’s finally recess when you met up with ningning and yangyang in the cafeteria.

“first of all, cut him off. block him. everywhere,” yangyang emphasized the last word, knowing how much of an idiot the guy can be. you just scrolled through your socials, double tapping on certain posts that caught your eye. owning a cat looks fun, you made a mental note to bring the idea to your parents later. the bell rang which signals that classes are starting back soon and the same cycle of events continues before it’s time to go home.

you observed yangyang’s sharp moves, following to the beat of the song echoing in the dance room. it’s currently half past seven and he’s still here, beads of sweat running through his hair. and why would he stay in school so late, you may ask? obviously, he’s here for a reason and it being an upcoming dance tournament is the most accurate one. while you’re here, sitting on the floor, back against the mirror and legs straightened out with your phone in your hand. it amazes you how the goofy boy transforms 360°, being all serious when he’s in his element.

“let’s go home, i’m tired already,” he panted out breathlessly, using a cloth nearby to wipe his sweaty forehead. you wait for him by the glass door as he packs up his things when the lights in the music studio also switched off. you wondered it must be the band guys so you paid no attention whatsoever. of course, your predictions were right when you saw two lads stepping out.

since yangyang is taking too much time tidying up the dance studio and the music studio seems unoccupied, you decided to check it out for a bit. it’s been a long time since you last entered the room, always accompanying your sister for her extra practice when you were younger. not much has changed, except some additions of instruments can be seen. not seeing anything in the dark condition as the room is only illuminated by the faint lights from the hallway, you pushed the switches down only to be met by a gasp.

“what are you doing here?” the tall boy approached you, a stern look visible on his fine features. your eyes scrambled around the room in an attempt to find any logical excuses for your ‘break-in’ but to no avail. your tongue was dry, not a sound escaping your throat when you heard yangyang’s voice, signalling your cue to exit the room and escape from the tension building between you and the boy. he just shook his head, the black hair bouncing left to right as he finally caught on.

it’s you, you’re the girl from the crowd. and your name is y/n.

the walk home was filled with one-sided conversations where yangyang kept on babbling about how he should improve the choreography he created earlier while you only added small comments. your mind is filled with embarrassment, too much that you feel slightly mad at yourself. why didn’t you say anything earlier? now, you look like a complete idiot with communication issues in front of that boy.

“yeah, and remember that pasta? we should definitely try it again, it’s like, so good,” yangyang said, earning a nod from you when you saw the boy from last night’s music studio tragedy approaching your table. you tried to look away but it was too late.

“dude, just wanna let you know that mr. park is seeing us after school,” your grip on your fork loosens up when you realized he wasn’t talking to you. maybe he forgot about the incident? you really hope so.

“yeah, totally. thanks sicheng,” yangyang playfully winked at the latter, earning a disgusted look from him who started walking away. he glanced back at you with a smug smile on his plump lips, making you freeze up again.

he didn’t.

“are you okay, y/n? feeling sick?” ningning furrowed her eyebrows upon seeing your sudden change of demeanor. you shrugged her off and continued to consume the macaroni placed on the tray in front of you, mentally cursing at yourself for the poor life choice you’d made. well, at least you know that his name is sicheng, right?

oh boy, you’re in for a long ride.

you can’t wait to go home and snuggle under the covers, today has been a long and tiring one for you. you had three pop quizzes as if all the three teachers intended so, your class had to run multiple laps during p.e. and so on. you’re already planning your routine in your head, trudging your way to the lockers when you saw him leaning against yours, scrolling down his phone.

“crap,” you muttered under your breath.

there it is, the smirk on his face returns when he spots your figure approaching. oh, how you wish you could wipe it off his face. he moved a couple steps backwards to give you some space to arrange your things before locking it, turning your head towards him.

“i’m sorry, why are you here again? and if it’s because of last night, then i’m sorry if it bothered you or anything,” you huffed out.

“what? i didn’t really care, it’s not like you were stealing anything, right?” he squinted his eyes, eyeing you up and down suspiciously, laughing shortly after seeing you get riled up.

“damn, you really need to learn how to take a joke. y/n, right? i’m sicheng, nice to meet you.”

“why exactly are we having this meet-and-greet or whatever this introduction is?” you crossed your arms, waiting for his response. but he didn’t, immediately turning on his heels and making his way towards the stairs, probably going to the studio.

“jerk,” you cursed under your breath, walking out the school building.

“what? you got accepted? seriously?” ningning’s voice echoed against the cafeteria walls, earning surprised and annoyed glances from other students who were either satisfying their grumbling stomach or simply having conversations. yangyang softly nudged her elbows using his, asking her to lower her voice down before telling you to go on. you were quite surprised as well, the acceptance email was not what you expected to receive. when you filled in the application form, it was just a mere shoot-your-shot agenda to see if you’d make the cut. although this is just a camp, you’re still unsure of what lies ahead.

“yeah, it starts next week. but i’m so nervous though,” you sipped the iced coffee in your hands. you’ve only watched videos of people producing their own music from scratch which you start to take an interest in. however, you’ve never done it hands-on before, only having basic music theory knowledge thanks to the piano lessons your parents signed you up for when you were young.

“you’ll do awesome, i promise,” yangyang gave you a reassuring smile, making you release some tension from the overthinking you’ve had since you received the email last night.

“thanks yang.”

now, here you are on the first day of attending the internship camp. you stood in front of the tall mirror hanging on the wall, straightening your cardigan and applying some makeup onto your face as touch-ups. it’s currently 7:40 in the morning, the earliest time you’ve ever woken up on a saturday. your siblings are still swallowed in their states of sleep. you double-checked the contents in your tote bag, making sure that no important things are left behind. you totally don’t intend on leaving a bad first impression on your first day.

after bidding a swift goodbye to your parents who just woke up, you drove your mother’s old honda to the completely new destination - mbyte studios. the tall building with light grey and blue painted walls definitely made it stand out, a futuristic look catching the eyes of the passersby. taking a deep breath, you entered the main lobby before being escorted to a room on the second floor. you assume it’s a waiting room for all participants of the camp, scanning that majority of the occupiers might be college students. you thanked god that the camp takes place on weekends so your high school senior life won’t be interrupted that much.

DAY 1

your eyes widened when you spot sicheng with the same white and blue tag you’re wearing, seated on the sofa. what the hell is he doing here? you avoided acknowledging his presence, trying to make yourself as unnoticed as possible heading over to occupy the seat farthest from his. after quite some time staring at the paintings hanging on the wall, a middle-aged lady with a petite figure entered the room, making you sit up straight.

“welcome to mbyte studios! i’m the assistant director, mrs. hwang. first and foremost, congratulations on being accepted. it’ a pleasure to witness the start of your musical journey embarking here. i believe that we should know each other first?” she gestured for any volunteers. sicheng stood up from his seat, charisma evident in his stance which left quite an impression on the others. the strong confidence in the way he speaks made the woman smile amusingly.

some names later, it was your turn to introduce yourself. the moment you stood up, he immediately recognized you and you were sure you caught him making some faces. the ice-breaking session went well thankfully, mrs. hwang elaborating on the social rules and the itinerary throughout the whole six days. one that caught your attention was assisting the producers on making a track from scratch, just like you had dreamed of.

when it was finally time for lunch break, you shot up from your seat to get away from sicheng as fast as possible but to your dismay, he beat you to it, jogging up towards your standing position.

“i didn’t know you were into music, what’s the sudden occasion?”

“it’s none of your business actually,” you sneered back, obviously not favouring his attention.

“woah, relax. you’ve got quite a temper, don’t you? by the way, we’re having lunch together,” he placed his phone onto a nearby table, pulling a chair for you.

“just eat on your own, i don’t have the appetite,” you flash a sarcastic grin before disappearing into the women’s restroom. he just laughed bitterly at your response before walking towards the food counter, joining his newly made friend, jaehyun. being the same age, they’re easy to click.

DAY 2

“today, we’ll be focusing on the recording process. you’ll be assigned into groups that will have a tour of the whole department. our staff will facilitate each group,” the manager said loud and clear. you remembered his name was johnny. the tattoo on his shoulder really stands out, considering the fact that he’s always wearing a sleeveless shirt.

but what are the odds when your groupmate is none other than the guy himself, sicheng. it’s like the universe truly resented you for having to be associated with him at any event. your group was escorted to the farthest recording studio on the floor. to say that this was a great experience is truly an understatement, making you observe the gears used in astonishment. you hate to admit it but sicheng has a handful of knowledge on this particular topic, always correctly answering the questions directed by the staff. maybe it wasn’t quite surprising upon knowing that his career choice is a singer, not that you care anyways.

again, nothing out of the ordinary happened today, except that you and sicheng had lunch on the same table. of course, it’s not that you accepted his offer but he welcomed himself to the spot. being the quickly favoured participant among the rest, obviously they welcomed him with open hands. he placed himself among the two guys sitting at the right corner, eyeing you whose eyes are still not leaving the article you were skimming through. with the last spoon of food shoved into your mouth, you quietly excused yourself from the group. sicheng just watched your movements in subtle signs of annoyance.

with the final task of doing microphone check-ups, day two of the camp ended with a breeze. you can’t wait to go home, get into a warm bath and spend the night watching netflix. it was a tiring one indeed but you’re not one to complain. pushing the car keys into the ignition slot, the sound of the engine starting is still nowhere to be heard even after a couple of retries. you rested your forehead onto the steering wheel, cursing silently in your head, having to get a taxi and call your mother about this incident. you’re sure to be receiving a handful from her, not to mention her soft but stingful remarks.

“hey, are you okay?” a deep voice interrupts your stressful state of mind. looking up, it’s sicheng with a concerned look on display. you hesitantly shared your problem, making him press his lips together probably thinking of a solution.

“you know, i don’t really know how to fix your broken engine or whatever but i know someone who can. let me just ring him for a sec. and you’re coming home with me.”

and that’s how you ended up in the front passenger seat, sicheng steering with one hand and the other rested on the windowsill. the faint music from the radio can be heard, probably a song by jon vinyl. you’d steal quick glances to see his other hand dancing in the air, enjoying the rhythm of the song playing. besides that, it was silent as both of you are preoccupied with your own things - sicheng on the road while you on your phone. he tried to make small talk but you would say it’s unrequited, only replying with short sentences. after a good ten minutes drive, the sight of your brown painted gate becomes a sign for him to stop the moving car.

“your car is safe with my friend so you shouldn’t worry about it or anything. also, what’s your number? it’ll be easier for, you know the car business of course,” he reached over to unbuckle your seatbelt, handing over his phone to you after. the close proximity made your breath hitch, the dewy scent of his perfume diffusing into your nose. not too strong, he has a good taste.

“thanks and um, i’ll buy you a drink later. just for today.”

“are you asking me on a date?” there it is, the significant tug on the side of his lips making its presence once again.

“stop being so narcissistic and move along please,” you rolled your eyes before giving him a small wave, stepping into your property. sicheng stared at the numerals on his phone screen, a small, proud grin etched on before driving off the lane.

“how was the camp? met any cute boys?” the first thing you hear in the hue of the blue monday morning is ningning’s chirpy voice. sometimes you wonder how she gets all boosted up at this hour of the day. yangyang is the polar opposite, his appearance as if he just got out of bed, the hood of his denim jacket resting on top of his auburn hair.

“it was good and no, no cute boys. but sicheng was there,” you replied nonchalantly, a mischievous grin crept onto her lips. you can almost predict the words that are going to spill out of her mouth.

“what’s up with her?” yangyang yawned, his eyes lazily gaze at you. you just lifted your shoulders, having no idea whatsoever. a ping sound was heard from your phone, notifying that a new message is received.

unknown: hey sicheng here

unknown: ur car may be ready tmr. want me to drive u there?

listening to your heart, you were about to type ‘no’ but remembering the fact that your parents will be busy the whole day tomorrow and yangyang is coming home late once again, you have no choice but to accept the lad’s help.

now you’re back in his vehicle, the same spot as before. you’ve only noticed now that a musical note charm is hung on the rearview mirror, a semiquaver to be exact. you’d say that it looks authentic, gold specks shining when sun rays hit the surface. observing the interior of his car, there are quite a number of small decorations.

“can we get coffee first? my treat for the car and the ride,” you suggested, looking at him whose eyes are focused onto the road. the traffic is quite pleasing today, nobody honking mindlessly at the other drivers and flipping each other off with the famous middle finger gesture. his side profile does look charming, some type of earrings dangling from his ears. if you’re going to be honest, his appearance does seem to be your type. you’re not one to say about his persona though, always managing to bother you at any time of the day.

“sure, wanna go to the new cafe? i heard it’s good,”. you just nodded while he skillfully steered the steering wheel, moving the car to the new destination. you turned your eyes to look outside from the car window, seeing the one hundred and one manners of the citizens. a mother struggling to take her child who’s having a tantrum out of the toy shop, a young couple having their romantic meal in the french cafe. the motion of the car stopping awakened you who was being distracted by your clouded mind.

from the moment you stepped into the place, the interior caught your attention. the light brown painted walls with black furniture complementing each other perfectly, making a retro-like appearance. the funky song playing faintly in the background surely is a mood-setter, just how you like it. even the barista serving you is being friendly, making a couple of small talk in the midst of operating the machines.

you would say that it was a pleasureful day for you. the exquisite taste of latte washing down your dry throat, getting your car back without too much babbling from your dear mother and the gap between you and sicheng closing in for a little.

the last sentence baffled you for a second.

DAY 3

sicheng’s eyes shot open from the short slumber he was trying to get - failing miserably even, upon spotting you enter through the door. he pulled the chair beside him in hopes for you to get his message and take the seat. a frown made its way onto his face when you just waved at him, making your way to another spot a few chairs to the front. he scoffed, head tilting slightly before approaching you instead. you shot him a puzzled look, roughly translating to ask him what he’s doing here.

“i just want to be close to you. now focus,” he redirected his eyes onto the muscular man who just entered the room. he’s a songwriter - the best one in this company to be exact. you were focused on each point he explained, making small notes on your laptop. it’s not always that you’ll get a chance to be guided by a four-time award winning songwriter, might as well gain some benefits from it.

“another tip i have is to use all types of chords. remember, do not stick to the same ones, you’ll lack creativity. for instance, use major, minor, dominant, diminished, and augmented. i promise you, more ideas will be flowing and better quality songs will be produced. you got me?” the questioned, earning buzzing sounds of positive responses from the hall.

DAY 4

another day of group work, you’re given the task to create a melody according to the themes given - for your group, it’s love. looking at sicheng, he’s already on his electric guitar, strumming mindlessly to find the perfect note to start on. the rest of you are now juicing out some thoughts on this particular sense of human nature.

“love gives us thrill, the feeling of excitement, the feeling when you’re uncertain about something but when you have that special someone with you, you’re sure to wing it all,” jaehyun suggests, earning nods of approval from the rest of your groupmates.

“you’re a pro at this, mr. romantic,” you teased him, earning a soft chuckle. a dimpled smile is etched onto his features, rosy cheeks and his eye smile making you fawn. prince-like visual and a sense of humour? a two in one package, totally.

“not really. i guess i’m a sucker for romance movies,” he rubbed the back of his neck. your small conversation came to a halt when you heard a crooked, loud sound coming from the rough strum on the guitar strings. you turned around to see sicheng gazing directly towards the both of you, a sharp one even. jaehyun just blinked his eyes before catching onto the situation unfolding in front of him while you’re still being completely oblivious. you tilted your head in confusion, unsure of what’s gotten into him.

it’s the day that yangyang has been looking forward to since the past few weeks, his dance tournament. you’re seated with ningning on the bleachers, music from the loudspeakers echoing through the walls. with the cheers of the bewatchers whenever someone captivated them with a trick or dance move, usually the risky ones, it truly is a loud atmosphere.

“now, welcoming contestant number 43 to take the stage,” the host announced, you and ningning clapped with all your might, shouting words of encouragement as well. yangyang took a deep breath before lifting his right hand up, cueing for the music to start playing. just then, there’s the sound of someone plopping down on the hard surface next to you - sicheng. he’s looking casual today, a light yellow hoodie replacing his usual dark clothings.

“what are you doing here?” you shout whispered while ningning raised her eyebrows at you.

“didn’t yangyang tell you? i’m here to watch him dance,” he countered your question before darting his eyes back to the boy who’s busy popping on the dance floor, tinashe’s song playing in the background. he ended his routine with a moonwalk, making his way to the end of the stage. you’re confident that he’s going to win the competition, looking at how precise and clean his moves were. all the late night practices he had eventually paid off when he’s announced as the second placer. nonetheless, he’s still proud of himself, not to mention you and ningning who have been with him throughout his whole journey.

“you did well,” sicheng welcomed him with a fist bump which he reciprocated back. you didn’t know that they were this good of friends.

“i’m starving,” he rubbed his hand onto his stomach, making you remember that your stomach has been rumbling since you only ate a cereal bar that morning. you were about to catch up to yangyang and ningning who were walking fast ahead when you felt a tug on your shirt, looking down to see sicheng crouching down to tie your loose shoelaces.

“you might fall,” he placed his hands into the pockets of his hoodies, waiting for you to come along.

“um, thanks,” you muttered out before catching the glances given by your friends, later teasing you about the scene.

roars of students can be heard coherently, filling the basketball court. the basketball captain, a tall one with black charcoal hair is shooting a three-pointer. the players are then called over to their respective sides for whatever strategy their coaches will be implementing in the third-quarter. the home team is currently leading by five points, knowing that the players wearing the significant red and black jersey have been training their asses off for a while now.

but why exactly did you come to the game tonight? besides from the main event happening in the moment, the other reason is now standing in his position, strumming his electric guitar producing a funky sound that vibrates through the walls - a cue for the start of another buzzing stage. sicheng has been bugging you about watching him perform tonight and after quite some time evaluating, why not? when he finally caught you among the crowd, he flashed you a flirtatious wink. right before the band bowed as gratitude to the audience, he gave you a gesture to wait for him at the back of the gym.

“you came! but seriously, thank you,” he rested the sparkly white guitar against the wall, enveloping you into a hug. this is new, you tried to hide the flustered state of yours as you reciprocated his movement. from the corner of your eyes, you can see a black-haired guy approaching the two of you, followed by one with long, white hair and a bandana nicely keeping the fluffy strands in tact.

“ooh, who’s this?” the first one wiggled his eyebrows, later introducing himself as guanheng, the latter named yuta. to your surprise, the bond between you and them are quick to form with guanheng piloting the conversation. not to mention his subtle jokes making you giggle at times.

“well y/n, your little boyfriend here is getting jealous so we’ll excuse ourselves for now. see you whenever,” guanheng banging his drumsticks into the air while yuta gave you a quick wave before disappearing into the store room of the gymnasium. the nickname they gave sicheng surely made you a bit shy.

boyfriend?

DAY 5

you’re seated in front of the computer screen, your chin resting on the palm of your hands and the tabs of different colours left untouched. you redirected your gaze onto the projector screen, the words ‘arrange, mix, edit and master like a pro’ on it. a long sigh leaving your lips, you try to remember what the producer said earlier.

don’t make the song sound too repetitive

a good buildup promises a good melody

you can have a certain instrument playing only on one part for cinematic impact

DAY 6

“i’m hyo and you’re,” she moved the wheels of her chair to the back a bit to take another look at the clipboard resting on the desk, “sicheng, y/n and jaehyun, right?” the three of you nodded in harmony, anticipating for the next order that will be given.

“okay cool, we’ll be brainstorming first,” and she proceeded to explain what the requirements for this project are. you mouthed out the important points she gave, soft rock, heartbreak and drums. you’re on a roll today, contributing your countless ideas during the first few minutes of the discussion. sicheng just looked at you discussing with hyo, your lips pursed slightly. his gaze seems full of adoration, even jaehyun said so.

“any objections?” hyo looked over to the rest.

“i think she made some great ones. i’m sure this project will come out fresh,” jaehyun voiced out his opinions, sicheng nodding after. he went straight to handling the instruments , you and jaehyun collaborating for the mixing process. hyo eventually chimed in on some times, giving small advice whenever you seem stuck in the brain. with the hours ticking by, you’re feeling more satisfied than ever with your earphones in, listening to the final product created.

all of the participants are then assembled in the hall again, waiting for a final speech by the director which formalizes the end of the camp. sure, you’ve earned worthy knowledge throughout the six days. but if you’re being brutally true to the sound of your heart, it would be how you came to learn sicheng’s true antics. he might be the cocky guy who thinks they have the power to do anything but in truth, he’s just some guy with an honest heart, honest intentions to know you better.

summer break, your most anticipated event for the past few weeks. the moment the last bell rang, that scene in high school musical 2 kept replaying in the back of your head, the students doing a parade in front of the lockers picturing how your little heart is doing backflips in your chest right now. all the beach trips ningning planned is making you feel dizzy. you turned around to a voice calling out your name from the end of the hallway, your eyes catching the sight of sicheng jogging towards your spot. he stopped in front of you, hands on his knees catching his breath.

“are you free tomorrow night? there’s a party at guanheng’s and you know, it would be really cool if you join,” his fingers tracing onto each other, waiting patiently for your response.

you didn’t even have the time to process his invitation when ningning crashed her body against yours, yangyang following suit.

“a party? y/n would totally love to come, right?” ningning nudged your arms softly while yangyang tried to stifle a giggle. you were about to mouth out a ‘what?’ before sicheng cut you off.

“cool, you guys should come too. tomorrow at 10,” he and yangyang exchanged finger guns gestures before leaving the three of you. you just stood there in disbelief, eyeing them up and down before ningning dragged you to the parking lot. a stringful of grumbles escaped your lips, making the guy laugh obnoxiously.

“i can’t believe you guys did that,” you extended the seat belt, buckling it to the slot beside you.

“please. but you do want it, right?” you can’t deny, what she said was true. plus, you should have some fun and distress before having to go back to the usual dull routine of yours.

“how do i look?” you turn around, revealing the baby pink crop top and flare pants on your legs. it’s not your best outfit but giving the cliche excuse - you have nothing to wear, the two articles totally complements each other

“you look hot, that’s all i gotta say. right, yang?” ningning lifted her head from the headboard, glancing over at yangyang who’s going over his messages.

“yeah totally,” he lifted his hands, giving you a thumbs up. you threw a jacket onto your shoulders and grabbed the black purse on your dresser, glancing at the wall mirror one last time.

from the moment you stepped into the venue - guanheng’s place, smells of alcohol lingered around your nose, a group of people cheering ever so loudly over a game of beer pong, some already passed out on the couch. not to mention a brownish stain on the carpet - probably from someone throwing up. the mess would take a whole day to get rid off, you note to yourself. your friends are no longer to be found, both of them getting affiliated with god knows what. your eyes scanned the living room for sicheng but his presence is still nowhere to be found.

you decided to step towards the kitchen bar, pouring a drink for yourself. the mixed sweet and sour taste of it remained on your tongue for a couple of seconds. looking over at the snacks served, you grabbed a strawberry flavoured lollipop from the clear bowl. the crowd is cheering loudly for some type of incident happening at the back of the room, the music has been turned up to be a little louder than the volume before and you’re suddenly getting a little bit overwhelmed. you grabbed your purse and stepped out, inhaling some fresh air and looking up to the starry night sky.

“y/n? where have you been?” sicheng approached you from behind, making you a bit startled.

“sorry, hanging out outside can calm me. where did you go?” you popped the lollipop into your mouth.

“some jerk decided to throw up in front of me,” you pinched your nose with a disgusted expression, making him roll his eyes.

“do you want me to accompany you out here?” he offered. you just nod your head, placing yourself on the patio with him following suit. the sweetening flavour empowering your senses. it’s definitely much more calm out here, allowing you to clear up your mind. it’s not that you hate the atmosphere in the house right now, you’re just not in the mood.

“you know, you look pretty,” you turned around to meet his face. his brown eyes brimming with unconfessed love.

“shut up, stop with the jokes,” you lightly land a smack on his arms.

“what if i say i’m not joking?” he looked straight into your eyes, trying to find any emotion inside you. the sudden seriousness is making you feel much more awkward so you forced out a laugh, turning your attention right back upwards. the stars are shining brightly tonight, you can almost spot a constellation.

“i know what you’re doing, dong sicheng. just stop it already, it’s not working on me.” denial, that’s what you’re experiencing in the hot minute.

a gentle tug can be felt on your wrist, his eyes still not leaving yours.

“didn’t anyone tell you before? you’re really pretty. like, i can’t even describe it to you. you’re just,” he leaned over to caress your cheeks, “pretty,”.

what jaehyun said on the other day is true, after all.

love gives us thrill, the feeling of excitement, the feeling when you’re uncertain about something but when you have that special someone with you, you’re sure to wing it all.

your heart is beating so fast, it could fall out of your chest at any moment now. even the faint music blasting through the speakers inside the house can’t flush down the sound of your heartbeat. you’re not used to this, the sudden need of the significant skin to skin contact that symbolizes love between two individuals.

“can i?” his face in a very near proximity from yours, whispering into your right ear with his honey-like voice. you pulled the candy away from your mouth and nod, giving him the approval he needed before he dived in. heat rose from your stomach to your chest. you could only focus on how soft his crimson lips felt on yours, invading your privacy by all senses. you felt the kiss expand beyond your bodies, whirling you round, swirling you into the stars. he pulled away with a soft smile, you thought you could melt right then and there.

“wow,” that was the only word escaping your throat. your jumping heart still hasn’t settled down yet, your very first kiss still feeling surreal. you could see that sicheng is very much mirroring your emotions, his slender fingers grazing over his lips - the one that has come in contact with yours.

“the strawberry lollipop is sweet,” he commented, making the both of you laugh.

a ping from your phone awakened you from the gushy eye contact with him, unlocking it only to find yangyang’s text message. the second part of it made you fluster.

yang: yo r u coming in or what? and congrats for the kiss, we thought we’d have to wait longer for this

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 3 years

Text

IOTA Reviews: Sole Crusher

Well... It's finally here... the episode introducing the new bee hero. And what do you know? It looks like I was right about how the new character would be portrayed.

It's kind of funny how I made predictions exaggerating what could happen, and they were surprisingly accurate. Isn't that funny?

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Let's just get into the seventh (chronologically the seventh and the seventh episode in the season to air after “Mr. Pigeon 72”) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Sole Crusher. Damn, I hate that a pun this clever was used for the title.

We get to the point pretty quickly with the first scene being Zoe arriving in Paris and getting a tour of the city. She asks to stop at the Dupain-Cheng bakery, where she meets Marinette through some brief Unfunny Marinette Slapstick. The two quickly strike up a conversation.

I mean, it's not like Zoe is the sister of the absolute worst human being in existence, right?

Marinette compliments Zoe's shoes, and she points out that she designed them herself, and wrote every good thing anyone has ever said to her on them. But because she only has one friend, there's only a standard “I <3 U” on the left shoe.

So Zoe leaves the bakery and heads to Le Grand Paris where she meets her mother, Audrey. Unlike how she talked with Marinette, Zoe pretends to be just as snobby as Audrey in order to fit in. She then meets up with Chloe, who criticizes her for having poor person things like a phone without any diamonds embedded in it. And then she sees Zoe's shoes.

Look, that meme was already dated when it was referenced in Black Panther three years ago. Please don't try to reference memes in 2021, Miraculous Ladybug.

Chloe offers some golden heels while saying that those kind of shoes are for winners to wear and crush the losers underneath. This is the only episode to mention this kind of ideology, and believe me, it gets worse when Chloe decides to teach Zoe how to be like her.

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Get used to this. This episode is all about demolishing any semblance of likability in Chloe's character. Now that Astruc doesn't have to bother with writing Chloe with decency since she's not Queen Bee, watch as he turns her into an absolute caricature of her former self.

Yes, Chloe has ordered her father to give her a lot of frivolous things in the past, but she has been shown to care about him, like immediately rushing to hug him after she was safe in “Origins” and showing concern for when he was akumatized into Malediktator while apologizing for causing it. For the love of God, one of the first things she did when she allied with Hawkmoth at the end of Season 3 was to have him unto her parents' akumatization. I guess she only cared about her rich parents for their status and not because she actually loved them right?

Next up on the list of Chloe's positive qualities to ruin is her friendship with Sabrina.

🎶It's seven o'clock in the morning🎶 🎶I can't believe they made this scene🎶 🎶With the writing Astruc's enforcing🎶 🎶It's like he's trying to piss off me🎶

Yep, Chloe doesn't view Sabrina in a twisted view of friendship anymore. Now she's a slave. I'm not exaggerating by the way, he actually said that in a tweet.

THIS IS WHAT THOMAS ASTRUC ACTUALLY BELIEVES

Okay, so I guess all those times we saw Chloe playing superheroes with Sabrina in “Antibug” and “Miraculer” were just a slave driver playing with their property. Actually apologizing to Sabrina for getting her akumatized in those episodes? Protecting her from the Scarlet Akumas in “Ladybug”? She was just interested in keeping her slave around. I think Astruc may have slept through the slavery unit in his history class. Yes, Sabrina was mostly used as a joke to show how controlling Chloe could be, but there were still semblances of an actual friendship between the two.

Chloe arrives at school and introduces Zoe as her half-sister, despite being the same age and having the same mother. Because I guess we can add basic biology to the list of things the writers don't understand. Now that we're at school, Chloe's friendship with Adrien is next up on the chopping block.

Yep, despite being Adrien's only friend and making a big deal about valuing his friendship to the point where she threw a big party just to make sure he wouldn't leave her and risked cooperating with an Akuma to save him, now Chloe just sees Adrien as a rich meal ticket. Two of the earliest episodes to show Chloe had a more compassionate side to her, and they just undid them. Even as much as I hated the episode, “Felix” showed Chloe was willing to cooperate with Marinette and her friends just to find a way to cheer Adrien up on the anniversary of his mother's not-death.

For the love of God, Astruc, 1984 was supposed to warn people about what could happen if they rewrote the past, not encourage people to rewrite the past. He probably finished Animal Farm thinking Snowball really did work alongside the humans, didn't he?

Marinette comes up and Zoe pretends to hate her, leading Marinette to wonder why she did that. She texts Zoe (she gave her number to her earlier) and invites her to a concert on the Liberty, but Chloe finds out. Zoe thinks fast and pretends it's just so she can torment her more. Chloe then takes out a book listing all the ways she can torture Marinette. I wonder if this is a metaphor for the writing process behind most of the episodes last season.

Zoe decides to go outside for some fresh air, and Andre comforts her. Funny how Andre bends over backwards to give Chloe whatever she wants, yet he's willing to actually talk to Zoe like an actual parent. Andre tries to cheer Zoe up, but she talks about her past where she had to put on an act so she would be liked, but (bet you've never heard this before) she just wants to be accepted for who she truly is. The surge of emotions is enough for Shadowmoth to akumatize her into Sole Crusher.

In addition to having one of the most clever puns for an Akuma name, I actually like Sole Crusher's design. Not only is it a good excuse to reuse Chloe's character design, it makes sense thematically, as Chloe was trying to mold Zoe into a copy of herself. The gold and diamonds also make sense given Chloe's love for shiny things. Her powers tie into the bizarre belief Chloe has about stepping on the winners. Whenever Sole Crusher kicks or steps on someone, she absorbs them and gets progressively bigger, making it easier to do so. While it's not cracking my top ten anytime soon, it's still an interesting character design.

Sole Crusher heads to the hotel to get Chloe, and she manages to get away pretty quickly. Maybe in an alternate universe, she's a track star? For some reason, she runs to the Dupain-Cheng bakery and then... Oh my God... pushes Marinette's parents so they get absorbed by Sole Crusher, before trying to do the same with Marinette.

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When has Chloe ever done something like that? Whenever she endangered someone during an Akuma attack, it was unintentional or a result of her naivety. She was only trapped in Pixelator's dimension because Adrien tried diving to save her, she only alerted Rogercop to Ladybug's presence because she eagerly called out for her, and during “Zombizou” she only tried to throw Sabrina towards the horde of kissing zombies once, and that was meant to highlight her growth. The only person to actually do stuff like this consistently is Lila, but I guess she got vaporized by Big Brother offscreen.

This episode is determined to make the audience hate Chloe by retconning everything about her character while portraying her as a complete monster. As bad as Chloe could get, she was never selfish enough to use anyone as a human shield. This kind of behavior honestly could be explained by saying Chloe was lashing out as a result of losing the Bee Miraculous permanently, but the events of the Season 3 finale aren't mentioned ONCE, not even in the next episode that introduces Queen Bee's replacement! How the hell can you set up the next Bee hero without explaining why the original needs to be replaced in the first place?! And trust me, I'm going to talk about Zoe replacing Chloe later.

Sole Crusher grabs Marinette in her hand, so the Horse Kwami, Kaalki, uses her power to teleport over to Adrien's house and inform him Ladybug needs help, meaning once again Adrien did nothing in this episode before becoming Cat Noir.

At the Liberty, Chloe offers more victims to Sole Crusher in the form of the band Kitty Section (consisting of Luka, Juleka, Rose, Ivan, and Mylene) and theatens the giant golden supervillain she can send her back to Paris, even though she's really not in a position to bargain right now. And she STILL continues to insult her. Do you hate Chloe yet? Come on, do you? The writers won't stop until you do.

After we see Sole Crusher's conflicted emotions, Marinette is set free by Cat Noir and transforms into Ladybug, immediately summoning her Lucky Charm, a shoehorn. They only learn Zoe's sneakers were where she were akumatized thanks to Chloe's ranting, so the episode unintentionally made Chloe save the day. Ladybug breaks into Le Grand Paris and breaks the sneakers where Zoe hid them, using the shoehorn to open a door. So Sole Crusher is de-evilized, Ladybug fixes the damage, and gives yet another charm to Zoe.

Afterwards, Zoe goes to the Liberty, apologizes for the act she put on, all while divulging to the audience her “tragic backstory”.

Of course, everyone welcomes her with open arms.

And right here is where the biggest problem I have with Zoe as a character. I normally hesitate to use this term given how often it gets thrown around when criticizing characters these days, but I really can't say anything else.

Zoe... is a Mary Sue.

For those who don't know, the term Mary Sue originated in a Star Trek fanfiction from 1973 satirizing several self-insert stories at the time. Most of these stories showed a beautiful young woman joining the crew of the Enterprise and immediately gaining the attention of the crew. Mary Sue parodied this character archetype by showing how much she was appreciated by Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock, the latter being driven to tears at her funeral despite his species being emotionless normally.

What does this have to do with Zoe? She has the exact same storyline as Mary Sue in the parody fanfiction. Her mere presence is enough to make Chloe act extremely out of character in an attempt to make her look better, and as soon as she apologizes while giving a frankly vague backstory, everyone just accepts her as their friend, and I mean everyone in the entire class. I'm sorry, but it just doesn't feel earned. Why was she bullied at her old school? What did her bullies have against her? What caused her to stop going along with her peers, and why did everyone turn against her? How the hell did the bullies who put cockroaches in another student's locker get no punishment while the victim was forced to transfer schools? It's an intentionally unclear backstory designed to make the audience feel sympathetic towards Zoe without actually doing anything else.

I want to ask anyone reading this who watched the episode a question: Outside of her backstory, what do we actually know about Zoe?

What is her personality like? She's nice? Socially awkward? We've never had a character like that in Miraculous Ladybug before! Sorry Marinette, Adrien, Juleka, Nathaniel, Mylene, and Marc, there's a new character with more personality than all of you combined!

What are her goals? She wants to be an actress? Great, but why? Even though there's no clear answer for why Marinette loves fashion, or why Alya loves journalism, or why Nino loves DJing, you can still see the passion in their lives when they do something related to their goals. Zoe only says she wants to be an actress, connecting it to her people pleaser backstory (and given how it ended, she must be a terrible actress), and in the next episode, she immediately gets the lead role in a student film.

When Mylene got the starring role in the movie in “Horrificator”, we at least got snippets of her acting skills in the same episode that established her desire to be an actress, which is also implied to be because she was inspired by her father in “The Mime”. She didn't just say she wanted to be an actress and got the leading role. She still had problems to overcome like her cowardice, which threw her own self-confidence into doubt. Here, Zoe just says she wants to be an actress, and is rewarded for no reason the very next episode.

Zoe basically exists only to be a foil to Chloe, and the writers had no idea what to do in terms of a personality, so they just dumped a bunch of extremely likable character traits onto her without thinking of how her character could come off. And like I said, she's a Mary Sue.

I'm not the only one who thinks this. I've seen a handful of posts on this very site calling Zoe a Mary Sue. In fact, I even asked another Tumblr user @anxresi to quote their take on Zoe being a Mary Sue, which I couldn't even top in terms of accuracy. They basically listed off five things that made Zoe a Mary Sue.

She has to have a ‘tragic backstory’ so all the other characters will fall in love with her. Usually within minutes, in the very first episode they’re introduced.

She has to have a supercute design so that the audience at home will fall in love with her. And if they don’t, they’re automatically dismissed as ‘haterz’ even if their objections are purely from a writing POV.

Her only flaw will be thinking too little of herself. “What, lil ol’ me as the Bee Miraculous holder? With my shyness, colorful shoes, chic beret and personalized pink strip in my hair? Gosh, who’d have thought it?”

The contrast to her half-sister will be a constant plot point, with Chloe always getting dumped on. “You see, kids? Bad things happen to bad people. But you see this super-sweet girl over here? She gets a free DAD. Instant FRIENDS. To star in her own MOVIE. The chance to be a SUPERHERO, even though she only arrived last week. Who cares if she has no depth, no personality and barely any reason for being in the show, apart from being a massive ‘Up Yours’ to all the Chloe fans out there?”

What about character development, Mr Generic Zag Guy? “Development? What’s that?! Zoe is already perfect as she is. The only ‘development’ she’ll receive is having her hair done in the first episode she’s introduced. Besides, That‘d’ word is banned here at Zag studios. Why do you think we abandoned Chloe’s stillborn arc so quickly? This is a KIDS show, why bother trying to create a complex character with more than one dimension?”

This is essentially who Zoe is. She's perfect, has no character flaws, has a cute design so the audience will love her already, and was designed only to replace Chloe as Queen Bee. That's all she is.

So the episode ends with Zoe feeling happy at all the new friends she made while we get one of the most blatant attempts of symbolism in the ending card I've ever seen.

See, look. While Marinette is happily talking with Zoe with the image of Ladybug next to them, Chloe is to the far left with an EVIL purple aura, showing how bad she is compared to how great Zoe is. Only a braindead moron would actually like Chloe over the super awesome and pretty Zoe!

I'll give my final thoughts on the episode in the next part where I analyze this plotline as a whole.

LINK TO “QUEEN BANANA” REVIEW

#immaturity of thomas astruc #iota #thomas astruc #thomas astruc salt #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug salt #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #adrien agreste #cat noir #chat noir #chloe bourgeois #queen bee #queen b #zoe lee #vesperia #sabrina raincomprix #andre bourgeois

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ifmywishescametrue · 3 years

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i don't know if you're still taking prompts (so please ignore this if you aren't) but i cant stop thinking about your recent buckytony fic (and how much i love breaking up and making up as a trope) - so i was wondering if you'd be up for doing smth else w that trope for buckytony?? maybe they re-unite at a mutual friend's wedding?? and it brings up emotions about their almost wedding?? idk i just really love breaking up and making up as a trope and i really love your writing :))

thank you!! I'm very much up for doing another buckytony break up/make up, plus you deserve nice things for finishing law school - congrats on that!🎉🎉hope you like this one 😊

There's a ring on Bucky's finger.

It's the first thing Tony notices when he walks into the bar for Natasha and Sharon's joint bachelorette party. He stands there in the doorway, frozen and staring until someone clears their throat pointedly behind him, and he mumbles an apology as he moves out of the way.

He thinks about turning around and not coming back, just ditching the event entirely and maybe even the wedding tomorrow, but he tosses the ridiculous thought the second it comes. He promised Sharon when she asked him to be her man of honor that he could handle Bucky being Nat's. Living on the other side of the country afforded him to miss the rest of the events and planning along the way, and he could deal with one day of being cordial to his ex, even if the day comes with walking down an aisle together.

But now there's a ring on Bucky's finger.

The silver catches the light, and it's on prominent display with his left hand wrapped around a beer bottle. It shouldn't be possible for him to have moved on that quickly. Eight months shouldn't be long enough to bury three years of memories. Three years of hopes and dreams and plans for a future built together. Years of love so blindingly intense that it burrowed into Tony's soul to make a home and refused to be evicted just because it was supposed to be over.

Tony wonders what the timeline is. Did he find someone new while Tony was still just beginning to pick up his own scattered pieces? A first date for him while Tony was barely getting out of bed. When was it that he replaced Tony as the last person to have his heart? And how did he find forever in someone else so soon after losing the one he used to call his soulmate?

Natasha notices him first, still hovering near the entrance, and she raises a single eyebrow that calls him a coward. He rolls his eyes at the accusation, though it's accurate. She elbows Sharon to catch her attention, and before he knows it the entire small group is turning their heads his way, giving him no choice but to join them.

It's less bachelorette party and more pre-wedding celebration with the crowd they've gathered, all mutual friends of both brides with no regards for gender traditions that usually come with this night. Tony used to fit in well with them all, back when gatherings like this were just a typical Friday night. But he made himself an outsider between the move to California and the breakup with Bucky. All he has now with most of them is a dead group chat that hasn't been used in months. He wonders which one of them made the new one without him in it.

Sharon is the first to pull him into a hug, then Natasha follows suit. He gets a nod from Sam, a wave from Clint, and what might pass as a smile from Steve. Bucky stares so intensely that Tony can feel his eyes with his back turned, but when Tony looks his way, he pretends to be interested in the floor.

He had a plan before the ring threw him off. Step one should have been the entrance. Head held high, shoulders square, perfect outfit that shows everything off and compliments the Malibu tan he has now. Step two should be nonchalance. A light hearted greeting to everyone, accompanied by an easy grin and relaxed body language, and catching up with subtle brags slipped in. Show them all that he's doing better than he ever was, sitting on top of the world these days, even if most of the time it feels like he's barely above rock bottom.

Step three in his ideal scenario involved Bucky breaking down and begging to get him back. Some versions even had him on his knees for it, with tears running down his face. Others required it to be raining outside, and the cloudless sky ruined that before the ring on Bucky's finger did.

With steps one and three out the window, he tries to salvage step two.

“Hey,” Tony starts, a little too loud. He swallows the lump in his throat and tries again, “Hey, Bucky. It's good to see you.”

Bucky nods, a strained, jerky motion. “Yeah, you too. How, uh, how have you been?”

“Good. Really good, actually. Company just had its highest sales quarter yet, so it’s been a little crazy around there, but good.”

“Good,” Bucky repeats, and there’s a long awkward pause.

“And what about you?” Tony asks, and then because he can’t help himself, he adds, “I see you got engaged. Or, hell, I guess it could be married, even.”

Bucky freezes with parted lips and wide eyes for the briefest of moments, like he wasn’t expecting Tony to know about it or bring it up, and his eyes shift to the ring on his hand and stay there.

“Yeah,” he says slowly. “Engaged. Last week.”

Tony ignores the ache in his chest and plasters on a smile like he’s happy for him. “Congratulations. Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t know him. Steve introduced us. They work together.”

“So he’s at the museum then? I thought you used to say that you hated all those stuffy guys and Steve was the only one worth knowing.”

Bucky smiles, a fond thing that widens the crack in Tony’s heart. “Yeah, well, I guess I was wrong. Felix is a great guy.”

Tony resists the urge to roll his eyes. Stupid name that probably matches a stupid, punchable face.

Some masochist thing pulls at him to make him keep digging for more information, a twisted need to know even as each word pushes the knife in deeper. He aims for casual, leaning back against one of the high top tables as he asks, “So how long have you been together?”

“Just a couple of months. Kind of fast, I know, but when you’re sure about something, it doesn’t really matter, right? Why waste time waiting?”

“Right, of course,” Tony says, a little flatter than he intends. “So why isn’t he here tonight? Hope it wasn’t to spare my feelings, because it’s really not necessary.”

Bucky falters, “It’s not? You, uh, you’re dating someone, then?”

Tony nods, and he wishes he had grabbed a drink before this so he could hide behind it as he lies through his teeth. “Only a few weeks, though. A little too early to be a wedding date, but I’m sure your guy will be there tomorrow right?”

“Oh, um, yeah, definitely. Why wouldn’t he be, right? There’s no reason I can think of,” Bucky says, stumbling around it. “But tell me more about your thing. Your person. How’s that going?”

Tony shrugs, and he finally pulls off that easy smile he’s been trying for. “Well, it’s not get engaged in a couple of months good, but it’s been really great. We’re taking it slow. Trying not to rush anything and just get to know each other first. I think it could really be something, though.”

“That’s good,” Bucky mumbles. “You deserve something good.”

He isn’t meeting Tony’s eyes anymore, almost like he’s upset that Tony moved on, and the vindictive part of Tony wants to be happy about it, but another part wants to be angry because it isn’t fair. It’s not fair to act like Tony should stay stuck in time, forever longing for him when he already moved on with someone else first. It’s hypocritical and selfish, even if Tony is lying about there being anyone else.

“Well, I’m gonna go get a drink,” Tony says, pushing down every feeling. “Should catch up with everyone else, too, while I’m at it. I’ll talk to you later.”

He heads over to the bar and isn’t surprised when Sharon joins him a moment later, right after he orders a double shot of whiskey. She puts an arm around his shoulder and asks, “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Tony laughs, running a hand through his hair. “My ex is engaged to somebody else and apparently doing really fucking well. Meanwhile, I’m making up fake boyfriends that I’m taking it slow with, because last week I went on my first real date in eight months and cried in the bathroom in the middle of it. And then, at the end of the night, he literally told me to my face that he didn’t think a second date was a good idea. We weren’t even talking about it, Sharon. He said it unprompted when we were still ten minutes from his apartment, and I was driving.”

Sharon nods slowly as she processes the rant. “He told you he got engaged?”

“Yeah, thanks for not telling me, by the way. It was really fun to get blindsided by it.”

She ignores the complaint to ask, “What else did he tell you, exactly?”

“Oh, just the whole line about how you know when you know, and Felix is such a great guy, and all that bullshit.”

“Felix,” Sharon repeats.

Tony knocks back the rest of his drink and orders another. “Please tell me he’s not better looking than me. Tell me it’s a downgrade. Don’t lie, because I know I have to meet him tomorrow, but please give me something that will make this better.”

“Well, I can guarantee he’s not as attractive as you. But he’s a little too perfect, you know? Like how could this guy possibly be real, he’s so unbelievably perfect,” Sharon says.

“I told you to make me feel better, not worse.”

Sharon shakes her head with a smile, the arm around him tightening into an approximation of hug. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much. I don’t think they’re going to last. He’s kind of flaky, too. Always cancelling at the last minute and all that. Bet he won’t even show tomorrow.”

The amusement on her face that she’s failing to hide confuses him. He’s starting to feel bad, though, for making the night about him when it should be about her and Nat.

Resolving not to dwell on it anymore, he squeezes the hand on his shoulder and says, “Alright, enough sad drinking, and definitely enough about me. We’re celebrating you and Nat and a lifetime of sickeningly wonderful happiness for both of you.”

Sharon grins, “Hell yeah, we are.”

“Shots?”

“Is that even a question?”

_____________

He wakes up with a headache and hazy memories. Shots of tequila that turned into shots of vodka when Nat got involved, then Clint’s terrible suggestion to try a shot of every liquor they had to offer. He vaguely remembers the round of toasts and drunken impromptu speeches from everyone, locking eyes with Bucky and failing to look away on both their parts. There’s a blur of wandering hands and heated, messy kisses. A bathroom stall turned into a cab ride which turned into his hotel room. He knows what he’ll find next to him when he opens his eyes, and guilt comes in full force.

“I know you’re awake,” Bucky says, voice still rough with sleep. It used to be Tony’s favorite sound in the world. “And I know we’re both sorry about what happened, but pretending to be asleep isn’t fixing nothin’.”

Tony shifts over to his back, and if there was any question before about what happened between them, the all too familiar ache in his body would answer it. He stares up at the ceiling to avoid the acres of bare skin on display next to him.

“You should probably leave,” Tony says to the walls. “I’m sure your fiancé is wondering where you are.”

“I doubt it.”

Tony puts an arm over his eyes, partly to block out the light that makes them ache and partly to hide his face. “Just go, okay? It was a mistake, and it won’t happen again, and we don’t have to talk about it.”

“Was it a mistake?” Bucky asks. “It didn’t feel like one to me.”

He doesn’t answer, and it’s soft and broken when Bucky says his name. Too much for him to handle.

Tony pushes back the blankets and searches for Bucky’s clothes in the mess they’ve made. He finds the shirt first and throws it at him. “You’re engaged, which means it was a mistake.”

His boxers are on the back of the couch, jeans right in front of the door, and they join the pile on Bucky’s lap. “You promised the rest of your life to somebody else, and I’m pretty sure fidelity is supposed to go with that.”

He tosses a shoe in the general direction of the bed, and it hits the nightstand with a loud thud. The second shoe is still in his hand when Bucky gets up and walks over to him, taking it and letting it drop to the floor.

His eyes hold a level of intensity that Tony has spent months dreaming about, and Tony couldn’t look away or move from this spot even if he tried.

“Felix isn’t real,” Bucky says. “I made him up when you asked, because I didn’t want to tell you the truth that I haven’t moved on in the slightest. That I’m so pathetic that I’ve spent the last eight months wearing an engagement ring that I bought for a guy who doesn’t love me anymore because I don’t know how to let him go.”

Tony stops breathing. “What?”

Bucky slides the ring from his finger, holding it between them so Tony can see the inscription. Always yours. He can’t remember the last time he heard the words get spoken.

“When?” Tony asks hoarsely. “When did you get that and why didn’t you ever ask me?”

“About a year ago,” Bucky says, slipping it back on his own finger. He sits back on the edge of the bed and stares down at it, twisting it around. “I thought about doing it on your birthday, but Nat and Sharon had just gotten engaged the week before and I didn’t want to take anything away from them. You were working a lot of late nights after that, and I thought it would be better to wait until things slowed down. You were so tired all the time, and you deserved a better proposal than when you’re falling asleep in the middle of dinner. It never slowed down, though. And then you got that big promotion and somehow we fell apart instead. If I’m honest, I still don’t really know how. One minute I’m getting ready to come with you, and the next you’re telling me not to bother.”

Tony sits down next to him, shoulders touching, and he pulls Bucky’s left hand into his. “You didn’t really want to go.”

“That’s not true,” Bucky says, but Tony shakes his head.

“All you talked about was how much you would miss New York. How much you’d miss your friends and your family and your job. Every day, everywhere we went. Even the fucking hot dog stands got sonnets about them. It really didn’t take a genius to figure out that you weren’t exactly looking forward to leaving.”

“I still would have gone for you,” Bucky argues. “I told you I would go anywhere with you, if it was what you wanted.”

“And then what? You move with me, and you’re miserable all the time, because my job never slows down so I’m still not around as much as you want, except now it’s compounded because you’re in a city that you hate with no one else that you know. You resent me for making you go, and the outcome is the same in the end either way.”

“Or I move with you, and I finally ask you to marry me like I’ve wanted to since almost the day we met. I find new friends and a new job, and even if it’s not perfect, it’s still worth it because at the end of the day I have a husband coming home to me.”

Tony runs his thumb over the ring and murmurs, “I wanted you to be happy. I didn’t think I could do that for you anymore.”

Bucky cups his cheek, tilting his head up to meet his eyes. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but baby, you’re an idiot.”

“Oh, thanks,” Tony laughs.

“You’re my idiot, if that helps.”

Tony smiles, still fragile but growing more hopeful. “Am I?”

“Always have been,” Bucky says. “Always will be if you stop assuming I’m going to leave you all the time. Let me decide for myself what I’m willing to sacrifice for us.”

Tony nods slowly, then says, “I’m sorry for ending it like that.”

“I’m sorry for making you feel like you had to.”

Tony climbs into his lap, circling his arms around his neck, and Bucky pulls him in closer with his hands on Tony’s hips. The ring is strange to feel against his skin, but also completely right. He wants it to stay there and to mean what it was always supposed to. Wants one of his own to match.

“We can fix it, right? We can be us again?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky says, and Tony’s heart sinks for just a moment. “Is your boyfriend as real as my fiancé?”

Tony laughs again in relief, “Yeah, they’d be a good pair.”

“I knew you had to be lying. You’ve never taken it slow in your life,” Bucky grins.

“Do you want me to start now?”

Bucky flips them over in one fluid motion, and he kisses up his throat as he murmurs, “Absolutely not.”

#my writing #my fic #winteriron #buckytony #winteriron fic #prompt fill #ad1thi

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violettelueur · 4 years

Text

ITADORI YUJI + FUSHIGURO MEGUMI + GOJO SATORU + INUMAKI TOGE || WITH A MUTE S/O

| featuring : itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi + gojo satoru + inumaki toge from jujutsu kaisen

| warnings : grammar errors and a lot of my side comments

| form : headcanons

| published : 25 november

| request : i really really like your writing, it literally makes me so giddy ngl. i’d like to recommend, if you can, a headcanon with toge, gojo, megumi and yuji where the reader is either blind or deaf or mute. you honestly don’t have to, but i think it be pretty neat if you did

| barista’s notes : hello guys! guess who is probably going back to school tomorrow after being in isolation? probably me~ ʕ ﾟ ● ﾟʔ also i can’t really lie, this piece was a bit difficult for me to write that i had to do some quick research about the topic that is related to this headcanons ʕᴥ·　ʔ other than that, i hope you enjoy your cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and have a wonderful day/night ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆

ITADORI YUJI:

Itadori would be confused at first since you weren’t mute due to you having cursed speech as a cursed technique as Inumaki does.

It would be a bit strange to him at first since he is so used to people talking to him through speech due to his energetic personality, but over time he really does try to learn how to communicate to you.

You would at first write to him with a pen and notepad or maybe a whiteboard to make the writing process a bit quicker and easier.

“Wow babe, you have really nice handwriting”

Then there is you replying with the board covering your blushing face - this action will confuse him as he wonders if he said anything wrong only for you to smile at him to ease his worry

He would slowly learn to read you expressions - though not very well, he is trying very hard.

The gestures that he knows you are trying to convey to him within a second are ‘I’m hungry’, ‘I’m tired’ and ‘I love you’ - because I love you is basically you shaping your hands into a heart (girl, that is so cute~)

Itadori will usually ramble a lot, filling the room with his words which makes you really happy since he seems really happy ranting about the movies that Gojo-sensei made him watch for his training or missions that he had gone to.

Even when you are mute, that’s okay because Itadori’s love language is physical touch - so prepare to receive many hugs and energetic kisses.

And due to that, expressing your love to each other is quite easy since the both of you could just physically inform each other - lowkey I feel like Itadori would give the best hugs, he’s like the sun.

In conclusion, he really is trying to understand you and learn as quickly as possible - even then you wrote to him that it was okay and he should take his time - he really wants to be the best boyfriend possible - even though he is the best boyfriend affection wise.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI:

Fushiguro is the master of reading your expression and what’s going on in your mind.

Sometimes it really scares you because you wonder if he can read your mind since what he ‘guesses’ were just too accurate and precise.

“You seem like you want to eat Udon today, do you want to go to our favourite noodle place?”

You looked at him with widened eyes with the thoughts of: How the hell did he know what I was thinking? Can he read my mind?

“Y/N I can’t read your mind”

I......what a liar~

When it comes to your expression, he notices the smallest changes from the smallest crease that is formed on your forehead when you’re either annoyed or stressed to the smallest curve that your lips make you smile.

So when you are annoyed, he would gently take your hand in his and grip it tightly to tell you that he was right beside you and that everything was going to be okay.

He really takes in your expression and keeps them into memory, so it’s easier for him and you to communicate - or he just really likes to see you smile and would do anything to keep you smiling.

Fushiguro is really patient with you when it comes to communication, if you have to write a really long response, he would just patiently wait while either looking down onto the board/notepad to admire your handwriting or look at you and admire your face due to you looking so concentrated to finishing your answer - he thinks it’s a really cute sight.

Sometimes out of nowhere, he would kiss your forehead before giving you a soft smile when you look up - girl once again, I’m blushingggggg~

I don’t know but I imagined that little scenario with him sitting down in front of you with his hands in his pockets, while you’re standing in front of him as you write down something - I don’t know after many K-dramas and romance animes this is what is on my mind.

Unlike Itadori, Fushiguro isn’t that affectionate as his classmate but he would do things for you if you didn’t like doing them like washing the dishes or doing the laundry - basically acts of service.

In conclusion; Fushiguro is someone that lets you take your time and is really patient with you, he wants you to be comfortable and allows you to express what you are feeling in any way possible for you to communicate with him - don’t worry he knows what you’re trying to say/suggest.

GOJO SATORU:

Mr Gojo Satoru. The strongest jujutsu sorcerer will probably have a whiteboard himself like you so you didn’t feel alone.

Or maybe it was for him to proudly show you his drawing, just like he did with Fushiguro that one time.

To be honest, this really does light up your mood and sometimes make you forget that you’re mute to begin with because he just has that power.

There are times where he would write cute messages on the board and lift it up for you to see if you are at a faraway distance.

‘You look beautiful today ♡’ to ‘I love you honey~’

You can’t lie, sometimes it is embarrassing when it is shown in front of his students or when you are talking to someone - he’s basically teasing you at this point.

Also about his teasing, even though you can’t verbally respond to his playful comments, your face just expresses it all making it more fun for him to tease you even further.

Prepare for like 1000 flashes because he is going to take a lot of pictures of you - and you can’t even tell him to stop. Also, don’t try to jump around to get his phone, remember he is over 190cm.

On top of that, expect a lot of cute messaged from him during work or when he is on a mission like ‘I miss you’ or ‘I have some souvenirs for you’.

Sometimes he just texts you when you are standing next to him.

But once again, the blue-eyed jujutsu sorcerer really knows how to keep you happy and motivated even with your inability to speak.

There are times where Gojo is worried about your ability to fight for some reason - maybe he was just overprotective of you - but comes to the realisation that talking and fighting are not the same thing.

You are capable of defending and protecting yourself on your own, it’s just that he forgets sometimes.

Or maybe he uses it as a useless excuse to protect you because who knows, you can’t call for help when you might need it - spoiler alert, you bloody don’t.

But does he care?

Noooooooo~

He just wants you safe in his arms so he can come home with you - or maybe just to tease you even more.

In conclusion; expect a lot of cute drawings from him to lift up your mood as well as a lot of teasing here and there because he is Gojo Satoru…..what in the world did you expect?

INUMAKI TOGE:

Inumaki can really relate to you on the fact that you had an inability to speak, even though he can technically talk, it was still limited to ingredients of rice balls in a normal conversation.

Both of you would learn how to communicate with each other since both of you were hard to understand to other people that were around you.

Your friends would be so confused about how you both would understand each other even when there was just little to no words exchanged.

Sometimes you and Inumaki would smile at each other randomly and that other people around you would wonder what on earth the both of you were talking about.

Lowkey you two were gossiping about the second years.

Yes, you two were the perfect gossip couple - no one will ever know what you’re talking about.

Like Fushiguro, he is also very good at reading your expression and would ask if you were okay if he saw you looking upset or irritated.

“Salmon roe?”

You would then give him a thumbs-up before writing down what was making you irritated like “just a bit hungry” or “I really wanna go home, I’m too tired for this”

Since you and Inumaki couldn’t profess your love for each other verbally, you both would either text each other or just physically express it.

Mostly, forehead kisses and maybe some kunik kisses here and there.

Nothing too heated, but mostly sweet and gentle gestures.

Let’s just say you were the IT couple within the second years.

In conclusion; there would be a lot of lowkey gossiping since you two were basically the masters of keeping secrets and gaining new information and light gentle expression of love, even though the both of you struggled with the verbal aspect of your relationship, it really didn’t affect it at all since you two successfully climb over that issue.

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simluvbot · 3 years

Text

School stresses (when jay comforts you when you’re stressed with school)

tags: fluff imagine, some(?) angst, boyfriend!jay, domestic au

member: bf jay x gn reader

words: 1,434 (mini headcanon and imagine)

request!: “could you do one for jay where his s/o is really stressed with school, and has a breakdown but he is there to comfort them? p.s i love your writing! ☺️”

a/n: i hate this 😭 btw!!! this includes mentions of a nervous breakdown/panic attack(?) with crying and im sorry if t i didnt portray this the most accurately ahh this is so messy sorry 😭😭

Looks up to you 100% yep yep

So whenever he sees that you’re struggling in school? he takes your emotions so seriously because he knows how hard you work for it and how difficult it is

Will pause whatever he’s doing so he can sit in front of you and hold your hand and simply just listen to you rant, even if it takes hours

HIS SHOULDER IS ALWAYS AVAILABLE FOR YOU TO CRY ON

According to the members he is good at massages so yes you bet he will give you a massage to help you relax as a break

Does so of course after telling you that things will be okay, that you’re smart, that you know the information well and he believes in you

Very supportive of you in your studies!

Just wants to make you feel better and relieved asap

is the type of boyfriend that will reassure you and give you realistic solutions to your problems, so you always end up feeling a lot better and confident after talking to him!

will lay with you on your bed for hours when you need to relax, letting u lay on his chest as he rubs soothing circles on ur skin (:

The ticking of the clock in your bedroom room seeks to get more annoying the longer time passes.

School is stressful, is and always has been. But with the amount of anxiousness you’ve experienced in the last few hours and days due to all the work you have to do - you’ve started to question whether you’re really capable enough to do this.

Heaving a breath, you sit back in your chair, curling up into a ball as you stare through glazed eyes at the work on your desk.

You clench your fists, eyeing your papers and various textbooks that you’re having difficulty comprehending. Your laptop with your unfinished assignment sits on top of it all.

Is it worth it? Are you smart enough?

Frustration courses through you at simply staring at one of the pieces of work you’ve been given to complete. You don’t want to do it. You can’t. It’s too much.

Maybe you should just-

“Y/n?”

Jumping at the sound of your name being called, you look back at jay who stands in your doorframe.

He holds the bottle of water he had left your bedroom for, and for a second you stare dumbly as your brain stutters for a second in remembering this fact.

“O-oh, jay!” You say a bit too eagerly, an unsure smile on your lips as you clear your throat and blink your eyes. “Got your water?”

“What’s wrong?”

You blink. You’re always surprised by his bluntness.

Laughing lightly, you shake your head, thoughts running at a million miles an hour and brain seeming to pulse with the various number of things that are indeed wrong to you.

“Nothing.” You say breezily, shoulders tense as you look back at your desk once again, the empty page on your laptop screen seeming to taunt you. “I just..”

Jay doesn’t look convinced, a concerned expression now on his face as he walks closer towards you.

Heat rushes to your cheeks inexplicably, and you glance back at your work on the desk, and then up to your Calendar on the wall.

“It’s just.. just..”

You let out a breath, and you don’t even have to finish your sentence. Because it’s enough for you to break.

Turning away sharply from your desk and from jay, you cover your face with your hands as you feel the stress of the past week reach it’s tipping point inside of you.

“Y/n.”

Jay’s hugging you in an instant; strong arms holding you tight against his chest, pulling you in gently without hesitation.

“School is just so much. Too much. I don’t know if I can handle it.” You heave, chest constricting as you breakdown, hot tears streaming down your cheeks as you feel your face flush in embarrassment.

“Hey hey hey, its okay.” you hear jay say distantly, followed by the soft thud of him dropping his water bottle somewhere, and you can only blink numbly as you try to dumbly process how quickly everything is happening - from him taking your hand in his and leading you to sit on your bed to him wiping away your tears softly with his calloused fingertips, large palms holding your face gently in his.

“Breathe, okay? you can do that for me?”

Blinking through your blurry vision, you nod as jay’s face slowly start to focus through your tears, heart thudding in your chest and adrenaline coursing through your veins as you start to follow along with your boyfriend’s lead.

“In, out. In and out y/n.”

You hear the concern in his voice, his expression clouded with worry as his thumb gently rubs your cheek, hushing you quietly and breathing deeply with you as you try to get your shallow breathing to slow down.

“Jongseong.” you mumble, feeling flustered as you break the eye contact at how quickly everything seemed to escalate. You were just sitting at your desk stressing about school a second ago and in what felt like in only a blink, youre in your boyfriend’s arms; safe.

The black-haired boy simply shakes his head, softly telling you to focus on breathing.

You’re unsure if you’ve ever seen jay so serious when it’s concerning you before, all jokes and lightheartedness leaving for this moment. It takes a few more minutes before your heart rate has slowed and the jelliness you feel in your limbs has left, and soon you’re feeling a lot calmer.

“Are you feeling better?” Jongseong asks, standing up away form you briefly to collect the water that was initially for him, handing it to you instead once opening the lid.

You nod as you take it gratefully and you gulp down the water. “yeah.”

Taking your hand in his, he sits down further back on your bed, guiding you so you’re sitting in front of him between his legs.

“So?” he says patiently, not at all imposing in his tone as he moves you hair away from your neck, sweeping it over your shoulder.

When you give him permission to touch you, you heave a breath at the feeling of his hand on your shoulders; palms pressing down smoothly and expertly soothing your tense muscles.

“I’ve just been really stressed i guess.” You say quietly after a comfortable silence, fiddling with your fingers and closing your eyes as you feel your fatigue drift away with the work of his hands, calmness settling over.

“Schools been piling up, and i just have a lot to do.” You murmur. “I dont know. I have a lot to study so I’ve just been feeling pretty overwhelmed.”

Jay hums and you close your eyes, letting yourself relax into his touch as he massages you without word.

“School does put a lot of pressure.” he says thoughtfully, and you feel him nodding behind you. “But I’m sure you’re going to do well, y/n. Don’t worry too much. You’re only going to stress yourself out even more.”

He turns you around gently, and your widened eyes meet his concerned ones. “Have you been taking rests when you study during the day, love?” Jay asks, and you feel butterflies in your stomach at the nickname.

“..yeah.” You say hesitantly, leaning in towards your boyfriend and his soft chest.

“Yeah..?” Jay drawls out with a chuckle, kissing your forehead. “Yah, you should y/n. Don’t burn yourself out. Your health is just as important as school is. You’re going to ace it, okay?”

Pausing, he makes you look at him and repeat the words, “I’m going to ace it.”

“I’m going to ace it.” You say after him with a chuckle, rolling your eyes at your boyfriend’s insistent behaviour.

Jay smiles softly. “Give me your flashcards later if you have any so i can help you revise the, later, okay?”

You nod, smiling as you kiss his neck, wrapping your arms tightly against his chest.

“Okay.” You say fuzzily, enjoying the small circles he rubs into your side. “Thank you.”

Jay hums, leaning back so youre lying on top of him, his soft round eyes meeting yours, hand stroking your cheek softly.

“I love you, y/n. Please don’t hold in your stress anymore.”

#enhypen imagines #jay imagines #enhypen headcanons #enhypen jay fluff #enhypen drabbles

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richmond-rex · 2 years

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Honestly, idk why people focus so much on Edward as the 'strong hot young warrior king™' when the most interesting thing about him is how the inexperienced young king became a successful ruler, his policy making, the way he attempted to cement his dynasty in terms of the 'iconography' of English monarchy. The warrior king image is just boring tbh, and not really an accurate representation of him imo.

As for Richard, he is more interesting to be because of his personality (as much as we can glean), the coup and the murder of the princes; I laugh when people treat him like this innovative ruler who was centuries ahead of his time. Like, sure, he was a competent administrator and a successful duke, and it would have been fascinating to see how the policies he inaugurated would have turned out had he reigned longer. But he reigned for such a short time, unintentionally destroyed his own house - dear God, John was technically a better king than him. Basically all he has going for him in terms of fascination is being a schemer, and white washing him into a Byronic hero just makes him totally boring. Plus I'm always really uncomfortable with Ricardians pushing the 'young hot ruler' narrative, because whilst he died at an objectively young age and probably wasn't unattractive, they're almost always doing it to distract from his scoliosis, which is a) super abelist b) how he must have felt about his scoliosis at a time when disability was thought of a sin, how he dealt with it and became such a formidable warrior despite chronic pain - is the most interesting speculation to be had about him.

Can't stand how Yorkist fans treat George, Elizabeth Woodville, Warwick (the most interesting figure of the wotr, imo) and his daughters - and they are the ones in the Yorkist camp! The way they write about the Lancastrians, especially the women, is revolting - I'm a classicist and the way they treat Margaret of Anjou and Margaret Beaufort respectively is very similar to how Fulvia and Livia are portrayed, I guess misogyny is just endemic in history huh. Plus, how are there so many stories about Anne Neville mooning over Richard at a time when she would at most have felt friendship and maybe a childhood crush for him, and none on Margaret of Anjou, you know, being overjoyed to be reunited with the husband she hadn't seen in literal years. I feel like the HVI-MoA love story is do under explored because God forbid a non conforming woman and a disabled man love eachother I guess. (The way Yorkists/Ricardians Talk about HVI's disability is just disgustingly abelist tbh)

Idk how people can be so unobjective when studying history? Like, obviously people will have specific figures they find fascinating, but you can't study a period by treating it like a fandom.

Anyways, here's to Ricardians making me feel ashamed of being interested in Richard-the-Bitchard. Sorry for ranting in your inbox, it's only because I love your blog and you always have the best responses. Have a nice night xx

Adding the last message to this ask because I think it's the same anon who sent it. Truly, what else can I add to this message, I agree with so many of these points. I think that instead of highlighting Edward IV's awesome hotness over and over again it would be interesting to point out how incredibly traumatic his coming-of-age was. He was a teenager thrust into a civil war who was forced to carry the banner his father had raised and bear the heavy weight of his father's legacy in that process. He was barely on the threshold of taking command of his own earldom of March because he was still a minor at the time. He lost the brother who had grown up alongside him (Edmund of Rutland) and was forced to avenge his father in bloody battles where he had to command people to kill and die. He was barely allowed to be a young man before a crown was presented as a duty and avenging avenue for him. And that violent coming of age and sudden loss of carefree youth might inform so much of his kingship and personality. Truly, the discussions we could have about it all!

I think I've said my thoughts about Richard III before. I agree about his ambition being one of the most interesting things about him. I disagree about him being a good administrator—he made many crucial mistakes but I won't be talking about them here. There's this idea that he invented bail (he didn't), freedom of speech (William Collynbourne would like to have a word), and some other equally ludicrous claims. There was some degree of reformation laws that were passed during his reign but as Pollard (who has studied parliament in 15th century England) pointed out any laws debated in parliament were the result of decades of long discussions, and hardly the will of a single reigning monarch. I agree that Richard III's disability—when people are even conceding to call it that—should be discussed more instead of erased or summed up as: 'he could walk just fine without a limp'. I wish people would talk more about the debilitating aspects of mental illness when discussing Henry VI too.

The rest of the members of the house of York truly get the short end of the stick. It's incredible how much antagonism I've seen directed not only at George of Clarence and Richard Neville (incorrigible traitors in their eyes... as if the Duke of York had not been a traitor himself, the irony is lost on them apparently) but also, somehow, Anne Neville! Some people seem to think she simply wasn't good enough for her husband, be it either because she 'died on him' or simply because she didn't give him more children. Misogyny for the win! If someone made Richard III look bad, just like Elizabeth Woodville did, then they're little better than the scum of the earth. Misogyny truly is endemic to all areas of study (and society) unfortunately so it's not surprising to find it when discussing history but all the same, it's disappointing. Thank you for providing that parallel with Fulvia and Livia, I will look more into it.

I don't think the problem is exactly the fandom approach to history—I mean, I think I understand what you mean, the partisan approach to history is counterproductive and creates abominable takes like the ones we've been discussing, though fandom, as a community for the creation of works of art, discussion, and general sharing of knowledge and love can be a powerful force for studying history. The problem is that some people still don't understand it's possible to have favourite subjects without pissing on everyone else's. Also, I would like people to discuss history from an enlightened 21st-century point of view and not as if they still believed in the divine right of kings or if they were medieval Englishmen talking traditionally nasty things about the Scots, the Welsh and the French because xenophobia is cool and acceptable to them.

Please, don't take anything I've said on this blog as a reason for you to be ashamed of being interested in Richard III. I don't think it makes anyone an inherently bad person to like him, and a single interest doesn't define anyone as a person. How people act towards that interest, though, that's what it's important. Unfortunately, I've had too many people come to yell at me about Henry VII's horribleness and Richard III's 'true kingliness' not to be a bit wary, though.

Thanks for sharing your thoughts again! And for letting me know you appreciate this blog (and my answers)! 🌹x

#ask #anon #replies #wars of the roses #ableism discussion #xenophobia tw

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buckysgoldenheart · 4 years

Text

Protect You

August Walker x Reader

Summary: You discover August is working with Lane and it crushes your heart, but he’s not about to let you go any time soon. He’ll do what he must to prove that you are more important to him than what he wanted before he had you.

Warnings/Notes: Fluff, some smut, cursing, maybe slight angst if you squint (like super hard), Sort of breeding kink (kinda hard to say (it’s like one sentence)).

The details of this story, with Lane and August and their plan/how their relationship worked, are not 100% accurate. There are slight changes, but I just did it for the sake of plot. And dear lord, there are questionable writing choices, but after writing and rewriting this idk how many times, I can’t tell what’s good and what isn’t. So, sorry in advance :’]

Words: 4k…Way too many (my bad).

You ran as fast as you could through streets and back alleys, your steps disturbing the settled water puddles on the cobblestone. Escaping where August had tied you up proved to be much simpler than you were sure he imagined, and he unintentionally gave you enough of a hint to know exactly where he was going.

God, you felt so stupid. He deceived you, fooled you, bound your wrists around a bedpost and gagged you, leaving you behind like trash while he went after your friends; your team.

You shoved through the side door of a parking garage and sped down the stairs. You paused before the last door that opened to the basement floor, inhaled deeply then peeked through the small window. Your vision went red at the sight of your team, their hands raised and weapons scattered at their feet.

“Take them--” August began, his voice devoid of all emotion as you ran in.

“Stop!” You shouted, only slowing your pace once your body was a small barrier between your friends and the crowd of armed men with August at their side. One of many masked men in vests immediately turned his gun your way, ready to pierce a bullet through your heart without a thought, but you didn’t care, your heart was already broken anyway.

“No!” August snapped, his face twisting at the sight of you. He was instantly pissed, you could see it in his body, in the way he now stood. No one else would be able to tell, but you weren’t just anyone else. You knew what every stance, every lip quirk, every flash of emotion in his eyes meant.

He looked away from you for a moment, then shook his head with a curse on his lips. “Not her.”

Masks or not, you knew the men seconds away from killing you had surprised looks plastered on their faces. “Sir?”

“Bring her,” August looked at you. “Inform Lane you have these three,” He said, and you darted your eyes to the panicked faces of Ilsa, Benji, and Luther. “And find Hunt.”

Another man grabbed you around the waist at his order. You kicked at legs and clawed at the arms around you as Benji shouted your name, his voice falling farther and farther away with every step you were dragged from them.

August walked ahead of you, not daring a look back.

“August…” You growled, ready to tear into him, but a needle was shoved into the side of your neck and your vision was quickly blurring the form of his body.

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

Your head jerked up and your eyes burst open. You tried to rub the haze from them but couldn’t.

Tied up again…wonderful. This was not something you enjoyed getting used to, at least not in this way.

As your vision cleared, you saw him sitting across from you, his shoulders hunched forward, elbows on his knees, and hands clasped as he stared at the floor. You had no idea how long you’d been out or how long he’d been watching over you, but by the look of him, he hadn’t slept much in the time since you last saw his face.

“August!” You wiggled in your chair, trying anything to loosen your binds.

August’s head shot up. He looked relieved despite the furious way you hissed his name, but his annoyingly handsome face quickly succumbed to irritation. “I told you to stay put,” He said, a certain grit to his voice. “Why couldn’t you just listen?”

“You tied me up and left me in a room so you could kill my family, you asshole. What did you expect, huh? An obedient little girl? I figured by now you’d have learned I’m far from that.”

“Y/N—”

“How could you do this to them, to…me?” Your voice broke, and god, if your hands were free you would’ve slapped yourself silly. Letting him see a crack in your rage was not a power you needed to give him.

“It’s not what you think. At least, not anymore.” August stood from his chair and crossed his arms. “I didn’t betray you. It’s just complicated and, believe me, you are the last person I wanted to get caught in the crossfire,” He said. “I wish I didn’t anymore, but I have a vital role in Lane’s plan. I don’t just get to back out because I met you. I can’t say ‘sorry, I don’t want to work with you anymore because I have a thing for the girl on the other team.’”

“That’s pathetic,” You spit out. “You’re pathetic, and your loyalty to him is disgusting.”

He hummed, seemingly unaffected by your outrage. “Loyalty is not something I have the luxury to hand out like little candies, sweetheart. It goes to whoever I benefit most from.” He paused. “I get something from Lane believing in my loyalty, but it’s not real, baby.” He leaned down and cupped your jaw. “Every last scrap of devotion I have in me truly goes to you.”

You hated the thought of you and him. You grew more nauseous with each memory you replayed in your head. They were lies. Every move you made while he infiltrated your team he’d observed with a sharp eye. Every kiss you gave him he dissected to discover exactly what to do to make you melt in his arms. The way you spoke, what it took to make you smile, what he needed to say to get you into bed; all of it he must’ve stored in the back of his mind to use against you later. It was all fake; every loving gesture he made, a complete ruse. It had to be.

“What do you mean it’s not real?”

“Lane doesn’t know how I really feel about you,” August said simply. “He thinks I’ve been manipulating you for information.”

A scoff left your throat that you couldn’t help to hold back. As far as you were concerned, he was.

“And he needs to keep believing that, because if I suddenly decide not to finish this,” He continued. “Lane will find a way to make me regret it. And I fear if he gives it too much thought, he will realize the truth; that the only way to break me is to hurt you. So, I tried to separate you from it. I tied you up and I told you to stay there!” His words grew harsher with each one that passed his lips, and by the end of his rant his frustration was more than palpable.

“And what, August, starve to death?”

“I was going to come back for you!”

“Why should I believe you?” Tugging at your ropes again, you groaned. Clearly, he tied this knot better than the last. You looked at him again. “My friends could be dead because you handed them off to Lane, so spew all the pretty words you want but nothing will change that. I may never see them again because of you. You might as well have shot them yourself!”

August was in front of you in an instant, his large hands gripping the arms of the chair you were bound to as he leaned down to look you in the eyes. You glared back at him.

“I don’t give a fuck about them! I give a fuck about you! I don’t care who dies as long as you don’t!” He yelled, scolding you like a child. Then he straightened up. He was so tall, hovering above you. “When this is over…when Lane gets his revenge on Hunt, then I’m done. I will have held up my end of the deal, and that is all he cares about. He has no interest in how I choose to spend the rest of my life, a life with you, as long as he gets what he wants. If the bombs go off and Ethan goes down, you and I can--”

‘A life with you.’ Those words made the steady pounding of your heart stumble, but you shook it off. “I won’t help you find Ethan. I won’t help you pin a massive bombing, the loss of so many lives, on him.”

“No, you won’t,” He agreed. “Because you won’t be doing anything. You are going to stay here, out of harms way, while I make sure everything else goes to plan. I killed one of Lane’s men, the one I told to bring you, so we could get away, and that is all the complication I can afford right now.”

Get away to where, you wondered and looked around. You hadn’t taken to time to process where you were, but as you scanned the room, it was not what you expected. It was something of a small apartment. One common area; A small kitchen that was really just a stove and a fridge, and a couch that pulled out into a very uncomfortable looking bed; A single window carved into the wall to your right allowed just enough light seeping through to tell the time of day. “Where are we?”

“My place…temporarily, anyway.” He mumbled. “But, Y/N, I have to go back. I have to play the part until Lane wins this.”

He’d been playing a part, alright, but you weren’t so sure who he was trying to manipulate anymore. You or Lane. Lane or you. The training in you told you it was you, it was always you. His goal, the reason he planted himself in your team, involved taking you down and you had no reason to believe otherwise. But if there was a chance he wasn’t lying, if he really wanted you to be his, you weren’t sure you’d have the willpower to turn him away no matter what horrible things he may have done. He had that unforgiving power over you, unfortunately.

“Don’t do this, August.” You said. “Lane is a villain, he—”

“I know what he is.” He shut you up.

“If you know what he is, then why would you ally yourself with him?”

He sighed. “Y/N…”

“Tell me the truth,” You pressed. “You want me to believe you? Then be honest with me. You owe me that much.”

He paced once, an agitated look marring his beautiful features. At war with himself. You’d seen that look before when you laid in bed together. Now you knew why. “You don’t understand what I’ve been through, and one day I will explain it to you, but I was angry, and working with Lane presented me an opportunity to change things in my own way. To create a better world.”

“Then why give it up? Why bother dropping that fucked up dream of yours? What, have you suddenly seen the error of your ways, August?”

August’s eyes softened as he took a breath. He studied your face in a way that made the last ounce of your tenacity shred to bits. “I’m giving it up because if I don’t, you won’t want me anymore, and I can’t have that.”

“If you still plan to help Lane then it doesn’t make a difference…and I don’t want you.” You lied. Two big, fat liars. Perfect for one another.

“You did a couple days ago.”

Yes…a couple days ago you were kissing him in the early morning before joining the team, musing over the idea of that life together. The idea of being with him, being happy, you craved like nothing else before. He made promises he said he intended to keep. ‘No matter what happens,’ He’d said. ‘One day, you and I will have everything we want.’

He continued. “Y/N, you are all that I care for. I’d give up anything you asked me to. But I’ll also do whatever I have to in order to get us a chance to be together. If that means working with Lane a little longer, then that is what I’ll do.”

“So, to avoid raising suspicion you just had to give my friends over to him, is that right?”

He grabbed the chair he was sitting in earlier and placed it in front of you before taking a seat. “Look, baby, I don’t care about your friends or if Lane kills them, but I know you do, so after I put you in the car, I created a tiny diversion, an advantage over Lane’s men.”

He brushed a few stray hairs behind your ear. You savored that touch, brief as it was.

“Getting you away from there was my main priority, and I didn’t stick around to see the outcome, so I make no promises as to their fate. But…I wanted to do this for you.”

Your eyelids fluttered as you pushed yourself to focus more on his words than the feel of his fingers on your cheek. “So, Lane doesn’t—I mean…they could be fine?” The thought that August spared your friends, or at the very least, gave them the opportunity to escape, made your chest swell. That was the man you had fallen for.

“As long as they took advantage of my generosity, then they could be alive, yes, and might remain so if they don’t run headfirst into the war zone.”

“You know they will.”

“That is not my problem.”

“And Ethan…”

August shook his head. “I won’t give you hope when it comes to Hunt,” He said. “To get what I want with you something must be sacrificed.”

Something? Someone; Anyone, you realized. August clearly didn’t care who. “Then help us take down Lane before he kills all those people. Ethan could get him, and we could escape before Lane even realizes that you aren’t on his side any longer.”

“What?” He rose an eyebrow. If it was anyone’s idea rather than your own, you knew he would have dismissed it without a thought. Assisting Lane was the path of least resistance.

“If all you want is to be with me, for Lane to not cause us any trouble, then why does it matter who you ally with? If something must be sacrificed, why not him?”

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

Four Months Later -- Scotland

“Goddamn, baby,” August growled around your nipple in his mouth. He lightly bit down, and you yelped, the sting of it only adding to your desire.

Roughly thrusting into you once more, he pulled out and crawled off your body to stand at the base of the mattress. You whimpered at the loss of contact. Without him on top of you, your internal temperature dropped to unsafe levels.

With his arms under your thighs, he yanked you to the edge of the bed. He kneeled and placed his warm mouth on your cunt, licking and sucking until you were writhing around, clutching the sheets for dear life. God, you loved what he did to you. You loved the feel of him. You loved the way his beard scratched your inner thighs until angry red marks remained long after he left you sated.

He had grown out his facial hair; kept it neat and manageable to avoid the homeless, mountain-man look, but it was no longer close shaven like it was when you were first together. Warm water didn’t exactly make it to shabby, man-made shacks on the abandoned, cliffside beaches of Scotland, and if August didn’t have warm water, he wasn’t shaving. Without a proper hot water system, the hard and frigid ocean was your only source. You only ever bathed together; your combined body heat the one thing that saved you both from freezing to death.

You came with his name tearing from your throat. You could feel his smirk as he lapped at you two more times before kissing his way back up your body to your swollen lips. He placed his mouth on your own, forcing you to taste yourself, then slid himself in you again, thrusting deep until he filled you with his cum.

You knew you were being stupid; that choosing to have sex without protection while hiding from a man that could kill you at any moment was one of the worst choices you could make. But with each day that passed, you cared a little less. The thought of carrying August’s baby turned you both on like nothing else.

He collapsed next to you then tucked you into his side and sighed.

You looked up at him and he smiled back at you. “I fucking love you,” He said.

“I fucking love you, too,” You chuckled as August ran a hand up and down your arm.

He hugged you to him one last time, kissed the top of your head, then untangled his limbs from yours and hopped up from the bed.

You stared at his ass with a grin on your face as he strutted to the kitchen.

“What do you want for breakfast, babe? Oatmeal or…oatmeal?”

“Both,” You called back, sitting up and stretching.

You followed him to the kitchen a moment later, snickering at the small apron he’d tied around his naked waist as he started up the portable camping stove. They weren’t meant to be used indoors, and the breeze from the open windows for airflow chilled your skin.

“Don’t laugh at me, Darlin’. We can’t have sex again if my dick gets burned off.”

Wrapping your arms around him from behind, you placed a feather light kiss between his shoulder blades and said, “Well, I can always find someone else to fuck.”

August tensed on spot and spun around in your arms with a scowl. “That’s not allowed,” He growled.

“The having sex with someone else, or the mentioning of having sex with someone else?”

“Both!” He snapped but all you gave in return was an innocent grin. “Though, secluded, misty beaches are hardly tourist spots. I don’t know who you think you could find to fuck you around here.”

He suddenly made a face as if a bitter flavor coated his tongue.

Your eyebrows rose. “What’s wrong?”

“Having ‘fuck’ and ‘you’ in a sentence without the words ‘I’m going to’ in front of them just leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”

“You’re a dork.” You slapped his chest and pulled away from him, then nudged your head toward the water starting to boil in the pot. “Now pay attention or you’ll burn the water.” You winked.

Just as August was turning back around, his secure phone on the table flashed red and began to buzz. Both sets of eyes darted to it then you looked at one another. Your breaths hung in the air. August quickly took the pot off the burner and tossed it in the sink.

“Get dressed. Get your stuff,” He said sternly, and you jumped into action as he untied the apron and hurried behind you. You both threw clothes on your bodies, then you went to grab the emergency bags from under the bed while August punched some numbers into the small gun safe. Who the fuck knew you were here? You prayed it wasn’t who you thought it was. You knew Lane hadn’t succeeded in his original plan, but that didn’t mean he had been caught. He was resourceful. Regardless, the alarm was tripped so you needed to get the fuck out of dodge. You’d only have minutes.

“Passports.”

“Got them,” You said, running into the bathroom to grab a couple things.

“The cash.”

“Yes.”

“What about—"

Your eyebrows scrunched together at his pause and you dipped your head around the corner. All of the blood drained from your face.

“Drop the gun,” Ilsa’s deep, feminine voice demanded as she held her own gun to the side of August’s head. His lips thinned but he did as she asked. A loud thump sounded through the room that matched the beat in your chest. “And do not move,” She snarled.

With a smirk, August casually put up his hands. “Don’t worry.”

“Where. Is. She?”

You rushed into the room. “Ilsa!”

She looked at you, her confusion evident, then pushed the gun harder into your boyfriend’s temple as if she thought the image of you in front of her was an illusion meant to catch her off-guard. She didn’t trust August, and you couldn’t blame her.

“Ilsa, please. Just put the gun down.”

Her eyes narrowed as they grazed you up and down. You knew she was wondering how it was that you had not a scratch on you, how you had all of your limbs still attached after months of being held captive by the man she considered an enemy.

“Benji, she’s here,” She spoke into her earpiece.

August stared at you, unconcerned despite how close he could be to death. Your fingers twitched. You wanted to run up and yank him away from Ilsa. You wanted to lock him in the bathroom, out of harms way so you could talk your friend down.

Benji came crashing through the front door not a minute later and all tension in his body visibly released at the sight of you. “Oh, thank God.”

“Guys—” Your trembling voice began.

“You’re alright.” Benji blew out a breath. “I gotta tell you, we weren’t sure we would find you there for a second. This asshole is clever,” He said, throwing his thumb over his shoulder in August’s direction. “We have a chopper a couple miles south, so let’s go. Ilsa can deal with--”

“Guys! Stop.”

Ilsa’s lips parted. “Y/N…”

August chuckled at their obliviousness and you glared at him. “We should’ve moved last week,” He said.

You rolled your eyes. “They clearly aren’t Lane, August.”

“I don’t like them any better.” He crossed his arms in defiance, ignoring the gun at the ready to blow his brains out.

“Y/N!” Both Ilsa and Benji shouted at once, drawing your attention to their bugged-out eyes.

“Look,” You made a noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan. “There’s a long story and I will explain but put the gun away. You don’t need it.”

Dubiously, Ilsa lowered her weapon, and with every inch it traveled further away from your boyfriend, the easier it became to breathe.

You reached your hand out and August tried you walk your way, but Ilsa put her arm up, blocking his path. He halted though he could easily snap that arm like a twig.

“Someone needs to speak…now,” She said.

“Where are Ethan and Luther?” You asked.

“Reykjavik,” She replied. “We had two potential leads of your whereabouts.”

It had been easier to track you than you hoped. You’d just left Iceland a few weeks prior.

August looked at you smugly, but his eyes held their usual hint of love that no expression could erase. You knew what he was thinking. ‘I love you, babe, but you should’ve listened to me. If we kept moving, we could be having sex right now.’ He was right. You’d been moving every couple of weeks to throw anyone who might be tracking you off your trail. If you stayed in place, Lane had a better chance of finding you, but you were tired and you liked Scotland. August, soft as was with you, hesitantly agreed to one more week before packing your bags again.

You didn’t notice Benji’s eyes examining the two of you like a hawk honing in on his next prey until it was too late. “Holy shit,” He said, almost stumbling back. “He actually loves you.”

Your head snapped to the left. “Benji—”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! He took you because he loves you! All this time, we thought this asshole was torturing you, maybe even killed you, but he took you because he wasn’t lying about being in love with you?”

You only nodded. He summed it up so eloquently there was little left for you to say.

“Oh, Ethan is going to lose it. This might actually be the thing that does him in.”

You opened your mouth to speak but Benji continued his rambling, now looking to August.

“So, was that the only part of your undercover bullshit that was real, or were you secretly planning to save the rest of us as well?”

“No, I didn’t care if you got killed. Still don’t, actually.” August retorted with a sarcastic smile. “But she does.”

“So, you weren’t with Lane or…?” “Ilsa asked.

“I was, but not since I left with Y/N.” August nudged his head in your direction.

Your friends turned to you. “You should’ve told us,” Benji said.

“I know. I’m sorry, but once we tipped you off about Lane, we had to hide. If he found out it was us before you guys could get to him, then he would’ve killed us both. We didn’t want to take that chance.”

“You tipped us off?” Ilsa’s eyebrow quirked and you could tell her mind was shuffling her thoughts.

“Yes.” August had given you all information he had on Lane and you hoped, after anonymously sending all of it to your team, they’d find a way to take him down. You considered seeing them once more and explaining everything in person, but August wanted to leave immediately and demanded there be no paper trail with your name on it.

Benji sighed. “Well, it worked.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lane is dead,” Ilsa said. “Last month.”

“What?”

Lane...

…dead?

Suddenly, nothing else mattered.

He was gone.

No one was coming after you.

You could go home, wherever you and August would decide that be. You could live the life you promised one another without a threat at any wrong turn.

August rose an eyebrow at you, and when you let out a breathy laugh of relief, he shoved his way past Ilsa.

“Come here, baby,” He whispered only for you, then pulled you to him and kissed you hard.

Benji roughly rubbed his fingers along his forehead, creating wrinkles that were sure to last. “This is so not how I thought this day was going to go.”

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

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rubypond · 2 years

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Okay but you asked for it

Gonna go on a rant about how I relate to the different Pevensie siblings now.

The more I think about it the more I realize that I relate to all of them in different ways. My main ones are obviously Edmund and Lucy. I'm most passionate about my similarities with Edmund because I see all of my insecurities in him. I call it adhd-coded middle child syndrome lol. My family is far too mixed and blended for me to have a clear "role", but through Narnia I've finally decided that in the dynamic I am a middle child, even if it doesn't really apply (I mean it kinda does but it doesn't at the same time. This is what happens when your parents divorce and both remarry and also your dad had a kid from a previous relationship).

I grew up with a Peter too! (Although mine isn't as good of a person). I'm right in the process of trying to get my adhd diagnosis, but I didn't even realize that's what I probably had until about a year and a half ago, so all my life I've really struggled with school and life just because my brain works differently than most people. And when I already felt stupid and lazy it didn't exactly help to grow up next to my stupid perfect brother who seemed to have such an easy time with everything I struggled with.

Also, my mom and I were discussing yesterday about a phase I had when I was nine where I absolutely HATED a particular singer (Swedish, you won't know who he is). I hated him so much. I definitely had my reasons that I won't get into, but the absolute level of passion in my hatred seemed to come a little out of nowhere. My mom said something that upon reflection I totally agreed with, which was that it seemed like I was just trying out hating something. That was very accurate, I remember clearly that my hatred of this guy was largely performative, and it immediately reminded me of Edmund in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, when he, like we discussed, is basically just trying out being mean. Now, Edmund's phase is a little more extreme, but like, his dad was literally out fighting in a war so it's understandable. That didn't happen to me. (Thank God! Although that would be extremely out of character for my dad. He actually sat in prison for a total of about 7 months when he was young for refusing to do his required military training. This was back when all boys in the country were required to do it at 18. This is one of the coolest things about my dad, and it's not the first time I've bragged about it.)

The thing with Edmund that gets me the most though, which is a consequence of middle child syndrome and adhd, is this intense desire to be seen and understood. (Which is probably why I'm writing this ask in the first place. Ha! If I psychoanalyse myself first no one else can call me out on it!). And this is why he wants to be great, too! He wants to prove himself, and if he gets to stand in the spotlight more people will notice him, and surely some of them will then understand him.

My similarities to Lucy, though, are a lot more obvious, since that's mostly that we actually share character traits. I've always had a very similar "nice and sweet" persona in that sense. Also just the entire True Believer thing she has going on is very me. Like, I believe in magic! I always have. Maybe I'll never find a place like Narnia, but I still believe magic exists. I think Lucy and I share the same life philosophies.

Susan is definitely the one I relate to the least, but we share one very important thing. I'm the Mom Friend™. I've always liked taking care of people. That kinds slots me into the same role as the eldest sister lol.

Now, Peter's a complicated one...

I've always had a love-hate relationship with him, and both sides are very intense. I used to think that I hate him so much because I see him mostly from Edmund's perspective, which is very much true, but I realized recently that while I see my insecurities in Edmund, I see a lot of my flaws in Peter.

So yeah, that's also why I hate him. It's just that particular brand of stubbornness and pride that he has... It's too familiar lol.

Oh my God, It's fucking hilarious how disproportionately I talked about the different siblings. Holy shit.

I adore you for sharing this with me, it was so... comforting???? comforting. to read through because understanding fictional characters has always been the most reliable way of figuring myself out to me (And mostly it's the characters that I can see, aka the ones that come from TV and film, I think I tend to be a lot more subjective as a reader? I don't interpret flaws as flaws sometimes. That's the main reason why I'm such a TV geek, not everything is up to my own mind that way and there are many things keeping me grounded while watching.) Ok, crazy thought, but even tho we're like opposites when it comes to more concrete stuff, I still feel like our way of thinking is pretty similar? We'll notice and feel connected to different things but we'll work through them similarly? ANYWAYS! I noticed the same thing when it comes to fiction and relatable fictional characters, when you relate to a character's wants, wishes, ambitions and insecurities, you tend to love them (for me those characters are Lisa Cuddy, Rory Gilmore and Dan Humphrey) while flaws are a lot trickier to handle. I LOVED Peter but it was mostly due to me... just not seeing an issue with being stubborn and full of pride. Pride & Prejudice actually opened my eyes on that and it's precisely why it's such a precious book to me, instead of worshipping Darcy I loathed him at first and then it hit me! I didn't like him because his flaws were my flaws. (I always thought this was because of Austen's writing style, she's fairly objective, which I'm naturally a big fan of, with the only exception being characters named Jane but I'll forgive her for that😂) What's the worst is when you have a character like Jo March or Greg House for me, who are both your virtues and your vices so you kind of find it hard to navigate between what to dislike and what to like about them (And most times, I discover my flaws through them??? I do share flaws with Dan, Rory and Lisa too, but those are flaws I was aware of before seeing those shows and the fact that I share flaws with them is more comforting than revealing. + I don't share all of their flaws so there's room for simply loving a character for who they are without any personal involvement.) As a result, they mostly make you uncomfortable. But this is why fiction is so important, you know? It can help you grow and learn. I'd be absolutely insufferable without it.

YOUR DAD IS MY HERO FROM NOW ON OK? That is such a cool story!!!!!!

All of this was incredibly nice to read, thank you for sending this ask.☀️🧡❤

#mal the writer wizard #❤❤❤❤❤❤#💌restless wind inside a letter box💌#mal the writer wizard 💜💫📝

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chocolate-parfait · 4 years

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can I suggest a headcanon for arthur, theo and comte ( or dazai ) reacting to their selectively mute s/o speaking for the first time? ( maybe even singing? ) you can decide if you want a scenario for one of them and what mc sounds like, wether shes soft spoken or has a mature voice~ whatever you feel comfortable with >:0 👌 — have a nice day ! ♡

I made some research to write this but tell me if anything's inaccurate or wrong! I'll fix it right away

Selectively mute MC - ikevamp headcanons (Arthur, Theo & Comte)

Arthur

Arthur's a bit suspicious when he sees how uncomfortable you seem to be on your first night. No normal person would feel completely at ease, that's for sure, and yet the way your gaze flickers around the room, the way you fidget with your own hands, the look of pure anxiety on your pretty features, they're all blatant red flags for him, though he decides to let you be. It's your first night, after all, for all he knows you could just be terribly shy, right?

He started piecing the signs together after a couple days when your voice was yet to be heard. The only thing they knew was your name, which you wrote on a piece of paper after Vincent's many soft encouragements.

The English writer had tried flirting with you a couple times, but after being met with the same indicators of discomfort as night one, he decided to step back and watch from the sidelines, occasionally helping others translate whatever you were trying to tell them with your body language.

Selective mutism had been diagnosed around 1870 for the first time, and although it was still a relatively new medical condition, he still was a couple decades more experienced when it came to medicine. After realizing that was your case, he moved to inform everyone in the mansion so that they could adjust their behaviors and avoid causing you too much distress.

Eventually Arthur becomes the person you spend most time with in the whole house; you can feel he genuinely cares and, despite the voices you had heard about his incorrigible attitudes and questionable habits, you start appreciating all the efforts he puts into making sure you're always comfortable and understood (his efforts were very much succeeding, by the way).

On one particular night, you decided to bring some coffee to his room, a silent gesture of support in his regards, but once you entered the bedroom, he turned to look you in the eyes and you saw his beautiful blue orbs, usually alight with mischief, now dark and wavering, surrounded by puffy, red skin. He had been crying. Despite all his best efforts to hide it, everyone knew the writer had his own ghosts from the past haunting him, but seeing him so wretched and broken made your heart squeeze in sympathy and pity.

Seeing your worried expression Arthur immediately turned the other way, letting out a self deprecating laugh as he thought this was probably not helping with your case at all. "Ah- D-don't worry about me! I just got some dust in my eyes. Clumsy old me-!" You set down the tray on his desk and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"A-arthur, you can tell me. I'm here for you."

His heart almost flew out of his chest as his wide eyes stared at you in disbelief. He abruptly stood up and had to stop himself from hugging you and twirling you around, grabbing your shoulders instead. "MC, you just spoke right now, didn't you?!". He was so shocked he completely forgot about his troubles and spent minutes fawning over you. He didn't realize he was coming off as too strong until he noticed your voice getting quieter and quieter. He then apologized and took a moment to cool himself off.

From then on, your relationship goes through revolutionary changes as he finally gets to learn more about your past, tastes and personality. Each little detail makes him more and more interested in what had been a complete mystery to everyone for days. As the writer of Sherlock Holmes he certainly couldn't let this one chance fly out of the window now, could he?

If his brain malfunctioned when he heard your voice for the first time, it is pretty accurate to say that he almost passed away for the second time when he heard your laugh! It's the best and most effective antidepressant he's tried in a long time, and the more open you become, the more the look in your eyes starts to brighten up, a worthy rival to the breathtaking smile that graces your lips every now and then.

Your voice is sweet, calm and soft, and Arthur feels as if he's floating on a cloud whenever he hears it. It isn't loud, either, making everything you say seem like the most intimate secret one could whisper to a close friend. On the other hand, your laugh is like the clear and light tinkling of a bell. Each time you let out even the smallest of chuckles his cheeks flush with a rosy blush, earning him stares and teasing remarks from the closest fellow vampire in the room.

Slowly, he starts to see his reactions for what they are: sprouts of a new love. As time passes by, he realizes he wants to hear more and more of your voice. He wants to hear you whimper his name lost in overwhelming pleasure, he wants to hear all the sweet nothings and declarations of love you can offer him, comforting words, even gibberish and dark secrets. Everything that comes out of your mouth is like molten gold to him, and he wants it all to himself.

He starts bragging to others, though it does not take long before you're comfortable enough to grace them with the sound of what Arthur has come to love so much. On one side he's jealous because you've denied him the privilege of being the only one to hear your voice, but at the same time he's also extremely proud of you! You're finally happy and there's no more traces of anxiety and worry in your eyes whenever you're surrounded by the other vampires, and that's one of the most important milestones he's honored have witnessed by your side.

Theo

Let's just say that you and theo start off on the wrong foot. To say that you're frightened of him at first is an understatement, and you very much avoid him for as much as you can. He feels guilt strangling his throat whenever he sees your quivering form running away from him, and after noting that you behaved similarly with everyone and still hadn't uttered a word in days made him worry even more.

Arthur's the one who comes up with a diagnosis, and with that everyone changes their manners and speech to make you feel more at ease. Theo, just like his blue haired friend, is actually pretty good at reading body language so he has no particular struggles when it comes to your needs. Unfortunately, he's not so smooth in regulating his tone and words, which often come out a little to harsh. Vincent often reprimands him for it, and he can't help but feel even worse when he realizes he's probably ruining your whole stay.

He starts distancing himself, and you gradually start sticking by the local angel's side, never leaving him for even a second; his vibes are so pure and soothing that they help you out with your anxiety and symptoms. Needless to say, he's also very understanding and is not at all bothered to speak in your stead. This leads to Vincent being the first one to hear your voice, and he's without doubt elated, but he also wishes for you to be able to socialize with the others, too. Theo in particular.

After days and days of the artist's endless rants on how good his little brother actually is, your image of the gruff man has been replaced by that of a soft hearted puppy. Too bad that this soft puppy looks like a hungry hunt dog more than a small, soft cloud of love.

Ironically enough, what brings you and Theo to a new stage of your basically nonexistent relationship is King. In the dog's presence he lets his guards down and turns into a loving owner of a very good and friendly golden nugget, subsequently becoming more approachable. Besides, everyone knows how helpful animals are in fighting anxiety and social disorders! And on the advice of Arthur, he invites you to his daily walk with his dog, hoping your fear will melt away with time.

He's a stubborn man, and even when such delicate issues come his way, he has no intention of giving up. No matter how much time it'll take him, he believes he's going to convince you he's not that bad as you first thought. Why is he trying so hard though? Well, not only it's something that stems from Vincent's care for you, but it's also something for your own good. If you were to avoid him for a whole month, you'd get nothing out of it, and a constant lingering sense of panic would follow you pretty much anywhere; but living for a whole month in those conditions is a no-no for Theo. He has no intention of uselessly make you suffer like that, and as he reminds himself of that, his willpower strengthens his determination to search for a common ground between you two.

Albeit slowly, you start getting less tense around him, and the fright fades away bit by bit with each walk in the woods with the Dutch art dealer and the excited bundle of golden hair. It's a lengthy process that takes many days, but Theo finally knows his efforts aren't vain when he hears you coo at the golden retriever. "King... you're such a good boy.." You say with with the warmest smile he had ever seen painted on someone's face as you patted his canine friend's head lovingly. In that moment he wished he could frame the scene and hang it up in his room next to his brother's paintings.

He didn't know whether it was the emotion of hearing your voice for the first time or the implications that told him you weren't that scared of him anymore, but he became hyper aware that his wasn't a normal heartbeat. Unsteady and crazy like that of a lovestruck fool. Was this all it took him to fall head over heels for someone? Or was this a process that had started way before?

It still takes you some time to be fully able to speak complete sentences in his presence, but once you do, he's overcome with one of the greatest feelings of satisfaction he had ever felt in his two lives, and he can definitely agree that everything was worth the wait and the labour.

Just like Arthur, your laugh almost makes him fly through the roof, but what turns him into a formless puddle of mushy feelings and amazement is your singing voice. The first time he hears you intone a medley to him he turns to stone and just stays there, unmoving. He has an eye for finding hidden talents, but oh God was your singing unexpected. His feeling may be out of place here, but he's so, so glad to have your singing all to himself. He finds the act extremely intimate, and for how much he may believe he doesn't deserve it, he cannot deny the positive effects it has on him

Sometimes, when you're talking to him, you can see him turn his face away and smile to himself like an idiot. In those times, he's thinking about how far you two came, and how glad he is to have persisted as much as he did.

Comte

Comte emanates a slightly threatening and imposing aura but it can also be calm and placid, like his voice. First and foremost he's a gentleman, but he sometimes comes off as very intimidating to those who are not used being around such strong presences like his. Luckily, he's a very patient man, and you can feel no judgement nor malice coming from him. He's lived a long, long life, and he knows better than overstepping people's boundaries and making fun of their insecurities.

When with him, you can do things at your own pace! If you don't feel like talking then he's totally okay with it; take your time to find your own way and pace of doing things, he'll gladly help if you ever ask him (with gestures or, once you're closer, with words).

The panic you feel in his presence dissolves gradually; there are no particular events that cause a turning point in your relationship, it just happens. Despite living in such a big mansion, avoiding all life forms is pretty much impossible, so you happen to share some interactions every now and then. Sometimes it's an afternoon tea, others it's just him making small talk as you clean his room (he's either talking to himself or asks answers you can nod to if you feel more comfortable). He immediately makes it clear that he doesn't expect nor want to pressure you in delivering any answer, and if you ever happen to feel too overwhelmed he excuses himself and leaves the room.

One day as you were dusting the shelves in his office, he casually says:"The weather's really nice today." But your head doesn't move in assent, instead he receives a shocking reply despite the ordinariness of the topic. "It really is... T-there's not a cloud in the sky, either." A shocked expression momentarily appears on his features, soon replaced by a wide smile as he hums back in agreement.

He doesn't let it show but he's utterly in love with your voice. It's an addiction but he still wants to give you enough space and time to get comfortable with the idea of speaking around him, so he tries to keep himself in check all the time.

It's when he hears you singing that he can't help but feel greedy, and the rare sight of Comte's blushing cheeks greets you for the first time ever. It's his weak point, use it as you may deem ;)

(okay but jokes aside WHY would you ever want to use it against him, he'd build a pyramid with a butter knife while doing a backflip if you asked him to tbh,, the man is Whipped.)

Everything you do has a meaning and a significance, so he's always taking in even the smallest piece of information you may subconsciously slip his way. Seeing how you trust him enough to lower your guards about him makes him all the more appreciative of the bond you two share. For this reason, if you ever want to try and get over your anxiety, he'll be there to walk with you from the first to the last step of your journey.

His favorite thing is when he's holding you in his arms, nuzzled against his chest while he dozes off to your heavenly humming. It makes him feel like a prince living his happy ever after in a fairytale and he couldn't be more grateful.

#my writing #ikemen vampire #ikevamp scenarios #ikevamp headcanons #ikevamp imagines #ikevamp comte #ikevamp arthur #ikevamp theo #arthur conan doyle #theodorus van gogh #comte de saint germain #answered

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froodycartographer · 3 years

Text

A Small Complaint About Mapping Systems

Sasha get your head out of the way, we need to talk about maps.

So there's something that's bugged me for a while about the toad rulership structure. We are initially presented with Toad Tower, overseeing the entirety of the valley. However, we find out in Season 2 that Toad Tower is actually the South Tower, one of four. Now, the name implies that this tower oversees the whole southern quadrant. So does that mean that the entire south of the continent is contained within Frog Valley? Should be a simple answer, look at any decent topographic map and we're done. But, no, of course its not this simple, otherwise I wouldn't be writing this.

This might not be surprising to you Apple Maps users, but maps aren't truth. Especially pre-flight, maps had to make allowances for surveyor error, logistical issues, and the math problems that arise from describing a curved surface onto a flat plane. The further you go back, the more having an accurate map becomes a luxury reserved for the rich. And in the weird feudal-adjacent society that Amphibia seems to be in, we could accept that, sure. But that's an excuse, really. I mean, Hop Pop is just carrying a valley map around in Season 1, and despite how useless it is (seriously, you could have just pointed at some mountains on the horizon, you didn't need a picture that literally just shows a town surrounded by teeth to illustrate that point), we will still call it a map for the purposes of this rant.

And what does it show? That we have a valley, and contained within the valley we have Wartwood, and a tower that we will eventually learn to be the South Tower. This matches up with what we seen in Hop-Popular, where the entire valley votes for Mayor Toadstool. (By the way, Amphibia has electoral districts apparently, I don't have that rant prepared yet but Someday)

However, then we get to Reunion, where Sasha states, outright, that the toads rule over the valley. Not the valley and surrounding neighborhoods. The valley and only the valley. And this makes sense! Because otherwise how could you maintain control over regions when you are cut off from broader Amphibia for an entire winter? Even if the South Tower predates Amphibian unification, it still doesn't make sense to have an administrative base (and an incredibly important one, since we've seen that the towers process taxes) cut off from its own territory, it would be considered a necessary expense to keep a pass open all winter if taxes were on the line. So, okay, let's allow that the South Tower only controls the valley, for whatever reason. Going back to the map behind Sasha, we see that there are three other villages in the valley. Okay, sure it would be weird if Toad Tower only ruled over Wartwood, but wait! Didn't the entire valley vote for mayor? The map only says Wartwood, but it covers a pretty impressive slice of the continent. Why did these other towns get a say in the mayor of Wartwood. I considered that the position of mayor could be more akin to a governor, but let's be honest, Toadstool is a mayor of Wartwood and its surrounding farms, not of some far-off village too. It wouldn't make sense for his character. And the fact that he, an administrator, would be approached for "promotion" to Toad Tower shows that the Mayor of Wartwood is under, either directly or indirectly, the leader of Toad Tower. (Which also raises the question, would that have made Toadstool a captain? Or was Grime's military rank separate from his administrative position over the valley?) Alright, maybe it's some archaic voting system, weirder elected positions exist. But we know that the other towns have been chafing under the rule of the toads, and that they know Hop Pop stood up to tax collectors. Surely some of them would have voted for Hop Pop during the events of Hop Popular, even as a protest vote if they weren't on the revolution train yet. No, let's be honest, as far as the frogs are concerned there is one town in Frog Valley, and as far as the South Tower is concerned there are four. Something isn't adding up, and this should be a simple answer because most of what I said can make maps inaccurate are on a continental level, a single valley should be easy to have consistent maps of. But for some reason Frog Valley just can't make it happen.

Okay, originally I had a further rant about the map on the f'wagon trip and how it also doesn't make sense, but let's be honest the entire timeline of the road trip is off. In Anne Hunter they state that the journey has gone longer than expected and they've run out of food, but in Truck Stop Polly (the next episode) we see Polly ruin a massive supply of dried foodstuffs, and then two episodes later in Quarreller's Pass they imply its been two weeks since they've departed, which matches up with Hop Pop quipping in S1 how they have 2 wacky adventures a week, making the Pass as the first part of Episode 4 the start of their third week of travel. So that's a loss and I'm going to accept that the map doesn't have any use. But go look at it, it's in the first 10 seconds of Truck Stop Polly, and it doesn't match at all what I expected, either from the previously established geography or from the macroview of Amphibia we get in the title sequence.

So where does that leave me? Well, I'm assuming this is intentional. Its pretty good to cover yourself from continuity errors by being abstract in how everything is positioned relative to each other. but this is a bit gratuitous imo. I started off trying to figure out how much territory Toad Tower rules over, and now we're in a question of what even is the valley, which is a problem because the existence of this valley, specifically the mountains that make it such, are what give us the plot of season one. I don't have much expectations for season 3 to resolve this, so this is more just rambling for catharsis than anything else. But I'm gonna keep my eyes peeled, hoping that we can answer at least one of these questions come series end.

#amphibia #mapping #geography #feudal governance #what is even going on here somebody help me #frog show

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beccascribbles · 4 years

Text

kageyama is failing english so he asks you to tutor him. neither of you were expecting the relationship that formed between you as a result.

warnings - swearing, kissing scene, contains a fair bit of angst

word count - 6.3k

a/n - this was originally meant to be a fluffy oneshot where kageyama falls for the person he asked to tutor him. however, it didn’t really end up that way exactly. i hope you enjoy anyway!

read the sequel - ‘selfish when it comes to you’

It was with hands trembling that he approached your desk, shooting a nervous glance over his shoulder at the small group huddled by the door. Hinata waved his hands in a 'go' gesture, encouraging him to approach you, while Yamaguchi gave him a thumbs up. Tsukishima, despite declaring he was not interested in Kageyama's educational escapades, had come to watch. He just wanted to see the boy fail. Raising an eyebrow, you looked up at the black-haired boy that you had immediately recognised as Kageyama. Who could forget that face when you had watched him get stopped in the corridor to be handed small gifts by blushing girls, and then watched him hand them over to the energetic ginger at his side?

"Can I help you, Kageyama?" you questioned, shocking the poor boy. Nervously, he shifted his weight from foot to foot, avoiding making eye contact with you. His expression was tense, and you were almost certain this was something he had been forced to do. A glance at the doorway confirmed this, his small group of friends unable to move out of view fast enough. Although, truth be told, Tsukishima had not even bothered to hide. It had been Yamaguchi pulling him out of sight behind the wall.

"Um..." he stammered, face burning a bright red. To think he could look so at home on a volleyball court but so awkward when tasked with an actual conversation was laughable to you. "Um, I, um, heard that you were really smart from Tsukishima, and Hinata was pretty much singing your praises earlier this week when you helped him study before a test..."

He trailed off, looking behind him again. You could not help but wonder as to what kind of emotional support he was seeking from them. Hinata was snickering as he whispered something to Yamaguchi, who was red from holding in his laughter. Meanwhile, Tsukishima was just smirking at the scene unfolding in front of him.

"Yeah, I heard Hinata passed that test," you said, leaning around Kageyama to shout to the hallway. "Well done, Hinata! I knew you could do it."

"You really helped, l/n," he shouted back, beaming at you. "If you hadn't broken down the concepts in such an easy way, I never would have been able to understand it."

Kageyama cleared his throat in an attempt to bring your attention back to him. His hands were now stuffed in the pockets of his trousers, and he was focused on some point above your head.

"Yes?"

"I-I was wondering if you would be able to tutor me in English," he stated, stumbling and tripping over his words. A loud snicker from the hallway caused him to spin and glare at the taller boy, who just snickered louder. When he moved as if he were about to head towards him, you reached out and clasped his wrist, stilling him.

"I would love to tutor you. When are you free? We can work around your schedule as much as possible. I know how busy you are, what with volleyball practice and all."

"Does this Saturday work?"

And that was how you found yourself sitting beside the black-haired boy at nine o'clock that Saturday morning. Textbooks, along with his workbook, were strewn along the desk in front of you.

Currently, you were going over what he had covered in class that week to attempt to pick out some weak points. It was clear to you that his memory was good. When you had quizzed him, he was able to recite the grammar rules perfectly. His spelling was so accurate it made you slightly envious. But, when it came to the application of those facts, he was clueless. You read the sentence one last time.

"Can you tell me why this is wrong?" you asked, indicating it on the page with a point of your pen. He looked down at the page, brows furrowing in concentration as he read.

"I think my spelling is correct," he stated, looking over at you for reassurance. You nodded your head, urging him to continue. "Is the word order incorrect?"

You again nodded your head. "Yep, that's correct. Well done, Kageyama! Now, can you tell me why the word order is incorrect?"

He rubbed the back of his head, returning to studying the sentence. His pen followed along with the line of writing. "Instead of using the English sentence structure of subject-verb-object, I used the Japanese sentence structure."

You smiled, extremely pleased at his ability to critique his own work so confidently. "Good. Remind me what the Japanese sentence structure is."

"Subject-object-verb," he replied with a confidence that you weren't expecting.

The rest of the session continued in a similar pattern, with you getting him to critique what was wrong in his own work. You thought that by helping him see what he was doing wrong currently, he would be able to learn from his mistakes and stop himself from making them in the future. This seemed to be having the desired effect, with the pause he needed to work it out shortening the longer you worked.

You glanced up at the clock hanging on the wall. It was twelve o'clock. "Alright, I think it's time to wrap this up for now. Can you do the same time next week?"

He nodded in affirmation, beginning to gather up the textbooks to return them to the shelf they had been taken from. You hadn't really needed them due to his knowledge of the basics, so they had simply been on the table to take up space. While he put the books away, you gathered your stuff together to put in your bag, also putting his stuff in a neat pile that he could pack away when he returned. Upon his return, he quickly packed them away, slinging his bag over his shoulder once be had finished. Awkwardly, he pulled at the strap.

"Would you like to get some lunch?" he asked, gaze settling on a slight crack in the wall behind you. "Just as a thanks for helping. Not like as a date or anything."

"Relax," you laughed, patting his arm lightly as you walked past him. "I didn't think it was a date and, now that you mentioned it, I would love to get lunch with you."

It took him a moment to process your words, and the fact that you were already walking towards the exit. Hurriedly, he walked after you, his long strides easily allowing him to catch up. You turned to him with a wide grin, "So, what's the plan? You got a specific place in mind?"

He found himself returning your grin. It was infectious. "Not really. But I'll think of something."

From your first tutoring session onward, it became something of a routine to get lunch together afterwards, leading to the formation of an easy friendship. While Kageyama could still be slightly awkward at times, his habit of blushing furiously had diminished slightly. He genuinely enjoyed the conversations with you. You listened with rapt attention when he ranted about volleyball, a fact that warmed him to his core. It was rare to talk to someone who didn't automatically act uninterested when the topic turned to what he was passionate about. But you admired that passion. You encouraged it. And, like you encouraged his passion, he encouraged yours.

At one of your lunches together, you had let it slip that you were currently working on a novel, just a light-hearted way for you to let your creativity flow. It had never been your intention to write for someone else to enjoy. It was just an escape for you, something you found enjoyment in. Something you were passionate about. Your novel was only a passion project.

"Tomorrow, I'm probably just going to work on my novel," you said in response to Kageyama's question. He had just finished telling you his plans for Sunday (it consisted of a lot of volleyball specific training to fine tune his skills as a setter, and also a run - which he had invited you to join him on one time only for you to immediately refuse) and then enquired after yours.

"Your novel?" he questioned. "You're writing a book?"

"No, no, it's nothing serious," you chuckled awkwardly. This time it was you desperately trying not to make eye contact. "It's only for fun. Like a little passion project."

"For fun?" he said, searching for your gaze across the table. Finally, your eyes dropped to meet his deep blue eyes. "I think it's really cool that you've got something you're passionate about."

Those were almost the exact same words you had said to Kageyama when he had tripped his way through an apology after going on about volleyball for an hour.

"Oh..."

It came out on an exhalation of breath. For most of your life, you had hidden the books you had written, terrified of judgement. Yet here Kageyama was telling you that it was cool. "Um, I can show it to you if you want. Maybe you could read it? Tell me what you think?"

He nodded his head in response. "What's it about?"

You launched into an explanation, not only outlining the plot, but also providing him with the main character's backstory, along with their planned arc. He just listened, nodding his head. The way you were so animated pulled him in, making him admire you even more as a person. It was hard to find people with a true passion, and here were two people with a lot of it.

The friendship you formed was so easy and comfortable to be in for the both of you that you gravitated towards each other. At school, it became rare to see you apart during the break times. It wasn't uncommon for Kageyama to show up outside your class with two cartoons of milk, one for you and the other for him, before you followed him out to the courtyard where you would just sit and chat. Sometimes, you would poke your head into their volleyball practice if you had stayed late in the library. It was always to say goodbye to him but ended with him telling you to wait for him so he could walk home with you. On those days, Daichi always thanked you for stopping Kageyama from practising more.

During the weekends, your tutoring sessions had now moved from the neutral ground of the library to one of your houses. He would host one week, with you hosting the next. If it were at his house, you could guarantee that you would be roped in to helping him with some form of volleyball practice after, leaving you sweaty and in need of a shower. Therefore, Kageyama now had a drawer in his room specifically for you to leave spare clothes in. If it was at your house, after tutoring, you read the next part of your novel to him as he listened, his head resting against your thigh. He would always give you his opinion, managing to explain why he had liked certain parts. Then, you would convince him to watch a film with you. Sometimes it would be a comedy, other times it would be a volleyball documentary.

When Hinata had found out that you had a drawer of your things at Kageyama's place, he had become almost unbearable.

Kageyama had let it slip while he was talking to you about your plans for the weekend, telling you it wasn't necessary to bring any more spare clothes when you visited due to the amount already occupying the drawer. Hinata had chosen that moment to walk up to you.

"Why would Kageyama have your clothes at his?" asked Hinata. Both you and Kageyama paused, sharing a look that Hinata automatically read the wrong way. "Oh my god! Are you dating? No way! There's no way Kageyama would ever find some who would want to date him."

"No!"

"We're not dating!"

You both snapped in unison, blushing profusely. Kageyama glared at the smaller boy, "We're just friends, boke. Stop making a big deal out of nothing."

By the time you were in your third year, everyone just assumed you were dating. You attended all his volleyball games wearing his jersey, would occasionally wait for him to finish practice before going home together and were always with each other. He supported you, always there to cheer you on at a school related event or writing competition. He had, after all, been the one who had encouraged you to enter your first writing contest, where you had won runner-up. The photo of you grinning while holding your certificate was one of his favourites. It was also his lock screen photo. Coincidentally, your lock screen was also a photo of him. It was after he was told that he would be representing Japan in the u19s team. He had looked so happy in that moment that you still felt proud of him whenever you saw the photo. You were also both very affectionate with each other considering you were ‘only’ friends. After breaking through the initial awkwardness he felt at physical closeness, being close to you, touching you, brought him reassurance. He would always have an arm slung over your shoulder as you walked. When sitting, he would always be pressed against you, his body warm where it touched yours. In private, it was common for you just to cuddle. As you watched a film, he would have his arms wrapped around you as you rested on his chest.

There was also the small fact that neither of you had entertained the idea of dating someone during high school. Both of you had been asked out multiple times, only for the answer to be no. It was easy for people to assume Kageyama was just too focused on volleyball to be in a relationship that would require so much of his attention. In your case, people found it odd that you had not even gone on a date. Naturally, they just assumed that Kageyama was your boyfriend, so the confessions of love stopped for the both of you. You were not oblivious as to why they had stopped but decided not to deny the claims. It was easier for people to think you were in a relationship.

Kageyama, as much as he hated himself for it, would sometimes find himself wishing that were the case. He could not deny that he was attracted to you. Wherever you were, his eyes were drawn to you. They would follow you around a room, enticed by the way you moved. And, when you were finally close enough to touch, he was unable to stop himself from reaching out and pulling you towards him. It was definite that his own actions had fuelled the rumours. Most of your potential suitors had been on the receiving end of a cold glare from the setter at your side. However, despite this desire for you, he told himself he would never act on it. This was partly due to volleyball. He could admit that your friendship was distracting enough, able to pull him away from the sport with ease. Entering a relationship with you would make it harder, and he could not let that happen. Volleyball was the most important thing in his life. You would always be second, as much as he might want you or need you to be there with him.

For the most part, you were unaware of his feelings. Or, at the very least, you acted like you were. You could acknowledge that he was both overly protective and affection with you considering he claimed to only view you as a close friend. The glares he directed at people had not gone unnoticed by you, especially as they had always been accompanied by the tightening of his arm around you. Equally, you could not deny that his behaviour towards you made you feel giddy. You could not deny that feeling his arm wrap around you to pull you against him made your heart race, or how the sight of him made your breath catch. You could not deny that having his support meant everything to you. But you also could not deny that his attachment to volleyball would override any feelings towards you, no matter how strong they were.

“You need to tell him to stop,” Ichika said, giving you a pointed look. She could see how much you cared for him, how much this affection for him was slowly destroying you. “The way he’s acting is unacceptable. If he’s not going to date you himself, he should stop being so damn possessive.”

You looked up from your coffee. Her words had struck a chord in you. You knew his behaviour was unacceptable, but you let it continue in the hope that it would transform into what you wanted: for Kageyama to finally act on his feelings for you. “Don’t you think I know that? I know it’s bad. I know I should tell him to stop. But I can’t help thinking that if I let it continue, he may finally realise what’s been staring us in the face for the past two-and a-bit years.”

You were so close to breaking. You could feel your eyes beginning to burn from suppressed tears. Again, you looked down at your coffee, hoping that focusing on a specific point would stop the tears from forcing their way out. Ichika reached out a hand to touch yours gently.

“Come on, y/n,” she practically pleaded. “This isn’t healthy, and you know it. The relationship you have with Kageyama now isn’t good for either of you. You can’t let him control you like this.”

“Control me?” you snapped, pulling your hand out of your friend’s hold. “He’s not controlling me. He would never do that to me. You know as well as me that he struggles with his feelings and how to express them. If I told him how I felt, I know he’d stop. But I don’t want him to. If I tell him, he’ll pull away. I’d rather keep him like this than risk not having him at all.”

“y/n, sit back down,” said Ichika, looking up at you. During your rant, you had risen from your seat. You were visibly shaking, whether from anger at what your friend was insinuating or frustration at the truth of your relationship with Kageyama you could not tell. The tears you had worked so hard to suppress were freely rolling down your cheeks.

“No,” you said, turning to walk away. “I think I’m going to go home. I don’t really feel like talking anymore. I’ll see you at school on Monday.”

You walked out, hands fumbling for your phone. As much as he was the cause for your tears right now, it was his comfort you craved. So, you called him. He picked up on the first ring, sounding breathless as if you had interrupted his training. His greeting was unusually harsh. Shit. You had forgotten that the volleyball team had arranged an extra practice session today to prepare for nationals.

“Tobio...” you said, voice cracking. It was clear you were crying. Your voice was thick with emotion. All he could hear were your sobs in his ear. “I’m sorry. I forgot you were busy. I’ll just call... actually, I don’t know who else I’d call.”

Your laugh was bitter, and the concern he felt for you hit him with so much force he almost keeled over. You had not even told him what you needed yet, and he was already beginning to gather all of his things together. “What is it, y/n? What happened? Where are you?”

“I’m walking to yours from the cafe close by.” Another sob escaped your lips. “I just need to see you.”

He remembered you telling him that you had planned to meet Ichika there for a drink and a chat. You were unsure as to why she had wanted to have a chat, and he could clearly recall you saying that your friend looked very serious when she had asked to meet up. “I’ll be home soon. Just use the key I gave you to go in... What did Ichika tell you?”

That caused you to pause. He heard your breathing still through the phone. What could Ichika possibly have said that would have made you so upset? You interrupted his chain of thought when you spoke again. “It’s not important, Tobio.”

“Not important?” he snapped, fist clenching around his phone. “If it’s not important, then why are you fucking cry? Why did you call me during volleyball practice?”

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed. The sound made his heart crack, almost breaking through his sudden haze of anger. “I wish I could tell you, but I can’t. It’s not a big deal. I’m just getting upset over nothing.”

“Fine.” His voice had changed again, becoming cold. “If it’s nothing, I’ll see you when I finish practice.”

You heard the stuff he had begun to gather clatter to the floor before he hung up. He chucked his phone back in his open bag, turning to face his friends. The rest of the team were still training, but they had stopped, turning to look at him as soon as he had begun to collect his things, the concern evident in his voice and the lines of his body.

“What was that about, Kageyama?” asked Hinata, looking at his friend with concern. Though his voice had been cold before he had hung up on you, Hinata could still see the conflict on his friend’s face. Concern for you was evident in the set of his face, but his need to improve outweighed your obvious need for him in that moment. “l/n is clearly really upset. Why are you still here?”

“You can go to her if you want,” said Yamaguchi. “You know Coach won’t mind. Plus, recently, you’ve been spending more time here than usual. Missing the end of this practice session won’t affect you at all.”

“Let’s just get back to practice.”

Kageyama walked back over to serve again, ignoring the concerned looks his friends shared. Even Tsukishima was worried, his eyes scanning Kageyama as if trying to gauge his emotional state. Throughout the rest of training, guilt gnawed at Kageyama’s conscience. His mind kept drifting to you, your sobs, the way your voice cracked. But he was too stubborn to leave now, too obsessed with improving in volleyball to waste his concern on you. However, as soon as training ended, he was the first to leave, sprinting out of the school.

Before heading home, he grabbed some of your favourite comfort foods, barely even acknowledging that it was physically impossible to eat the amount of food he had shoved into his bag in one sitting. When he entered his house, he headed straight to his room, knowing that was where you were most likely to be.

What he was not expecting was the sight that greeted him. You were curled up on his bed, hugging his pillow to your chest. But that was not what sent a spike of hot desire running through him. You were only wearing his jumper, your clothes neatly folded on the floor at the foot of his bed. In your curled-up position, his jumper just covered your arse, leaving your bare legs on display. It was clear you were fast asleep. With a sigh, he placed the bag of food gently on the floor before reaching for a blanket and placing it over your sleeping form. He brushed a kiss to the top of your head. Then, he left the room to wash.

Once he returned, dressed more comfortably topless and in a pair of loose-fitting joggers, he made his way back over to you, sitting beside your sleeping form on his bed. He brushed your hair away from your face, treasuring the soft feel of your skin against the pads of his fingers. He wanted to lie down with you, to pull you against his chest and curl around you. He wanted to protect you from everything that could hurt you, not realising the main person responsible for that was him, no matter how much you struggled to admit it. But something stopped him from lying down beside you and holding you in his arms.

He had added to your hurt. His sudden anger had not been towards you, though it had been directed your way. Though he had not meant to hurt you then, he knew that he had. But he also knew that incident would not be held against him. It was when he had deliberately made his voice go cold, telling you that he would not be there to comfort you anytime soon. In the back of his head, he knew you were clearly not upset about nothing, that it was important. Hearing you talk like that after interrupting his practice, however, had made him snap. He should not have done it. He should have come running to you. If he was not so obsessed with volleyball...

Kageyama pulled away from you, getting up from the bed. As he turned away to search for a futon to put on the floor, you sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You croaked softly, “Tobio, can you hold me?”

And your relationship continued in much the same way, the incident of that day largely forgotten, your feelings on the matter remained suppressed. Both of you only had eyes for each other, but neither of you were inclined to speak those feelings aloud. Finally, you graduated from Karasuno, both still firmly attached to each other.

All those hidden feelings eventually fulminated at the graduation party Hinata had decided to host, inviting former members of the Karasuno Volleyball Club along with people from rival teams. Kageyama had asked you to come with him, so you had entered the party on his arm to chorus of ‘so you’re finally together?’ and statements echoing that sentiment. You had had to shake your head, forcing a smile on your face as you jokingly dismissed the claims.

“No, we’re just friends,” you said. “This boy has only got one thing on his mind and that’s volleyball.”

You were unaware of how incorrect that statement was. Since he had secured a spot with the Schweiden Adlers following graduation, his mind had been drifting to you more often. Truth be told, you were often all he could think about - your figure, your touch, your smile. As selfish as it was, he wanted you like this, with him, for as long as you would have him.

Kageyama forced a laugh at your words, not seeing the hurt look in your eyes as he unwittingly agreed with your statement.

“I don’t know why you’re not dating yet,” sighed Sugawara, swaying slightly as he walked up to you. “After he called asking me for advice, I thought he was finally aware of his attraction for you.”

“What?” You blinked at Sugawara, needing a moment to digest his words. Then you spun to face Kageyama. “You what?”

“I’m not attracted to you, y/n,” spat Kageyama, shrugging you off him. “You know as well as I do. We’re only friends... and that’s all we’re ever going to be.”

“Hey...” said Sugawara, fumbling for a way to stop this from escalating. It was clear that Kageyama’s words stemmed from his fear that acting on his feelings would affect his volleyball in some way. Meanwhile, you looked close to crumbling, Kageyama’s last statement highlighting how pointless your feelings towards him were. “Maybe you two should walk away before this escalates.”

“You know what, Kageyama?” you snapped back, the emotions you had been holding back bursting out of you. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and your fingernails bit into the skin of your palm. “Fuck off. I’m done with this, whatever this is.”

With that, you spun around, storming further into the party. Kageyama quickly lost sight of your figure in the sea of volleyball players. His cheeks felt wet. He was shaking, all control over his body gone as he launched a punch at the wall to his left. Skin ruptured. Glancing down at his fist revealed split knuckles and blood welling up from the cracks.

“Fuck.”

You pushed through the people, desperately searching for anything to help you feel less empty inside. Less broken. Alcohol. That was your answer. Your gaze landed on a table that looked close to collapsing due to the amounts of bottles on it. No one would miss one measly bottle. Not fully aware of who might be watching you, you grabbed the largest one, took off the cap, and drank from it deeply. The liquid burned your throat, a welcoming distraction from the numbness you were currently drowning in.

This time you pushed through the crowd holding the neck of a bottle, looking for somewhere to collapse. Your eyes landed on the open back door. Perfect. The cool air against your skin made you shiver, causing you to pull the jacket tighter around your form. You studied the black denim. It was Kageyama’s jacket. A bitter laugh escaped your mouth. How fucking typical that you were still relying on him to help you, even if it was just his jacket. Actions guided by nothing more than hatred at your own inability to do anything without him, you ripped it off you, throwing it down beside you.

Without his jacket to ward against the chill, you realised how cold it was. You simply shrugged, raising the bottle to your lips in the hopes that the bite of the alcohol would fight away the cold. When a jacket dropped on your shoulders, you barely registered it.

“l/n, come inside,” said the voice beside you. Vaguely, you recognised it as Tsukishima’s. Blearily, you tilted your head to look up at him. “It’s cold. You’re going to catch a fever or something.”

“I didn’t think you’d care,” you slurred, slipping your arms into the sleeves of his jacket. It was warm. You snuggled further into the warmth. He just rolled his eyes at you, grabbing you from underneath your arms and pulling you to your feet. You stumbled into him, feeling wobbly and unfocused. “Shit, I think I’m drunk.”

“Nope, you’re obviously completely sober.” His voice was dry, the sarcasm in his tone clear. You shot him a glare, poking your tongue out at him. He observed with a hint of superiority in his tone of voice, “Now, that was childish.”

“I don’t care,” you pouted. “I’m drunk and upset.”

Wrapping an arm around his, you leaned on him heavily as he walked with you back into the party. Barely audible above the noise, you mumbled, “I want Tobio. I really love him… Why does he always hurt me?”

To be honest, hearing you like this made Tsukishima’s chest ache. He had his doubts about your relationship with Kageyama, had taken to observing the dynamic between you two. For quite some time, he had seen the hurt that waited just beneath the surface, the way your eyes would suddenly become unfocused when you came to watch Kageyama practice. It was clear you were thinking back to that day, the way he had addressed you so coldly and emphasised the importance of volleyball over your well-being.

Kageyama watched you with Tsukishima from across the room, his right-hand throbbing with pain. After Daichi had helped Kageyama clean it up, he had told him to go home. Kageyama had refused. Despite the words you had spat at him, he could not leave until he knew you were safe. He had watched you, watched as you attempted to drown your sorrows in alcohol. He knew he probably should have approached you, offered to take you home before you got too drunk. It was clearly past that point now. You were clinging onto Tsukishima as if your life depended on it. This made him grit his teeth in annoyance. It should have been him there to support you. Although, if he had not lost his temper with you earlier simply because he was in love with you, none of this would have happened.

He strode across the room towards Tsukishima, powered by some urge to be the one to take care of you like he had been doing since that first tutoring session. “I’m going to take y/n home.”

“Do you really think she wants to be anywhere near you right now?” questioned Tsukishima, glancing down at you briefly. At the sound of Kageyama’s voice, you had let out a breathy moan, fingers twitching on his arm as if you wanted to reach out to him.

“Tobio…” you mumbled, clearly drunk. You removed your arm from Tsukishima’s, reaching out for Kageyama. “I need you. Please. Don’t leave me. I need you.”

I need you.

The words rang around his head as he curled a protective arm around your waist. You were turned into him, nose pressed against the material of his shirt. One of your hands gripped his shirt tightly, fingers curling in the thin material. He began to walk away with you towards his car. Even if this whole situation had not happened, it was still his turn to be the designated driver.

Silently, he helped you into the passenger seat, buckling your seat belt and brushing a soft kiss to your cheek before shutting the car door and making his way to the driver’s side. He opened the door, sliding into the seat and looking over at you once more to double-check that you were strapped in. Much to his surprise (and slight annoyance), you had decided to unbuckle the seat belt. He huffed, leaning over to grab the belt, “Seriously, y/n.”

Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, stilling his movement. Slowly, you brought his hand down to rest on the smooth skin of your exposed thigh. Kageyama froze, his gaze flickering to yours. Your face was so close to his he could feel the heat of your breath against his lips. Gently, almost teasingly, you rubbed the tip of your nose against his. He let loose a breath he did not realise he had been holding, allowing the pad of his thumb to begin rubbing smooth circles on your thigh. While his fingers dance across your skin, you grazed your finger along his jawline, the other hand reaching up to tangle in his hair. Unable to help yourself, feeling needy, just wanting him, you leant in, letting your lips brush against his. Once. Twice. On the third time, Kageyama’s restraint broke, the hand on your thigh tightening while the other went to the nape of your neck, pulling you into him harshly.

His lips pushed against yours, the swipe of his tongue against your bottom lip enough for you to open for him. He tasted you. Greedily. Hungrily. His tongue tangling with yours teasingly as the kiss deepened. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you from your seat beside him. You clambered over the gear stick, falling into his lap. The kiss broke momentarily as you adjusted your position, straddling him, both hands clutching onto his black hair. You did not have to wait long until his lips were back on yours, hands trailing down to grasp at your arse as he strained upwards in his seat to push his clothed centre into yours. The moan you let out against his lips did not go unnoticed, and he ground upwards into you, eliciting another soft groan. You pulled away slightly, stuttering out his name, “T-T-Tobio. Fuck.”

Your breath carried with it the stench of alcohol, seeming to pull him to his sense. Suddenly he released you, causing you to flop forward against him, hands still clutching his hair. Your head was pressed against his shoulder. “Tobio?”

He lifted you off him, returning you to your seat beside him. Without looking at you, he put your seat belt back on, trying to avoid touching you, afraid the feel of your skin and the way you were looking at him, eyes dark with desire, would cause him to snap again.

“Tobio?” you questioned again, voice painfully soft, as if you feared his reaction. “Do you not want me?”

His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “Fuck. Of course, I want you. You don’t know how much I crave you. How much my thoughts end up drifting to you.”

“Then why’d you stop?”

“Because I can’t,” he said, the words physical paining him to speak. “You’re a distraction. One I can’t afford as much as I want it.”

A broken sob escaped your lips. But he did not reach over to offer you comfort, as much as he might have wanted to. And, although that night ended with you sleeping at his house, the next morning, there was a noticeable wall up between you. The once easy affection you shared was unwanted, Kageyama maintaining physical distance with you as much as possible.

And, though it pained you to admit, your relationship was never the same after that. It was never easy. It was never comfortable. It was tense, awkward even. Though you parted ways as friends, him going to the Schweiden Adlers and you off to university, it was as if a fundamental part of your relationship was broken. It was unlikely that part could ever be repaired.

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