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royallyanxious · 5 years

Text

Deep water

Summary: Roman used to have blue eyes.

Pairing: romantic roceit

Word count: <5k words

Trigger warnings: brief mentions of blood, injury mention, sea being cruel

Ao3 link here

The story was inspired by this post

Author’s note: Not gonna lie. This fic is for two amazing people @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 and @ellistruggle. Thank you for inspiration

The legend says that Roman used to have blue eyes.

Various versions of the story were passed around between ships of both mortal and immortal, of both holy and unholy ones… Every soul at the sea knew the melody of this song but nobody could sing it without a hitch. It was one of the tales that never made it to the books but lived in many hearts, for many years. For some, it was the proof of the highest price one must pay for living at the sea. For others it was a confirmation that gold is the only real treasure. Finally, there was a small group of people who didn’t believe the story - those led the loneliest of lives.

Because it was real. This legend. The tale of Roman and the love of his life. The love of his life gifted with the voice of an angel, the body of a monster, the soul of a devil and a quivering heart that ached for Roman only…

It was a tragic love-story between Roman and a merman.

***

“Logan… You’ve been sailing with Roman for so long…” sing-sang Patton, gently patting Logan’s forearms while Virgil subtly pushed the bottle with rum towards them.

“I will not ask for another free pass for you, Patton.” Logan stated sternly, suspiciously eyeing the bottle in front of him. Those young ones… so naive for thinking that something like that would make him talk.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare!” Patton innocently fluttered his eyes. Damn, his long eyelashes and soft lips. “It’s just that Virgil and I…” he stopped in favour of playing with the hem of his shirt, “It’s just that we…”

“Yes?” Logan arched his eyebrow. The rain outside intensified. Internally he thanked Roman for docking tonight, instead of setting off as they originally planned.

“Patton means to ask if you know what really happened to Roman’s eyes!” blurted Virgil, clenching his hands into fists. Logan couldn’t help but smile a little bit. In his opinion, Virgil was not a fit for a pirate. But he was undoubtedly loyal and loyalty was something highly treasured in the sea.

“Roman’s eyes?” Logan repeated, as if he didn’t know what they were talking about.

It was hard not to notice though. The flash of crimson at the centre, the dark shade of drying blood around the irises. The teasing sparkles that pulled out the most poisonous of scarlets. The brilliance of rusty reds and vivid corals paired with razor-sharp gaze that made people shiver and avert their eyes. Logan - quartermaster on Creativity - shuddered. It was hard to forget Roman’s blood red eyes.

And it was even harder to stop having nightmares about them.

Patton scooted closer, pulling Logan out of the maze of his memory. Patton’s hands rested on Logan’s shoulder, curse him for that warm skin.

“You know…” Patton started lowly, “They say that they weren’t always red. His eyes.”

Logan licked his lips and glanced at Patton and Virgil. Their round faces, scattered with freckles, their earnest eyes, the hollows on Virgil’s cheeks, the scar running over Patton’s temple. They looked like a good kids...

Completely ignoring the rum, Logan sat on the table, pushing Patton’s hands away. He didn’t need those forms of encouragement to tell the story. Sighing heavily, Logan wiped his glasses, leaving wet smudges. If there was one thing he hated in living on the ship, it was the constant humidity.

“First of all, I want you to know that when I met Roman, his eyes have already been red,” Logan started carefully, watching for reactions. Virgil and Patton immediately moved, pushing the barrels they were sitting on closer to Logan. Their noisy curiosity was truly endearing.

Once they settled down, he nodded with content. He was almost sure that they wouldn’t tell anyone of what they would hear today, “So mind you that everything I will tell you tonight is a passed story.” Logan added nonetheless.

“Is that a warning?” Virgil laughed anxiously. Not a fit for a sailor at all.

“It’s a promise.” grinned Logan in response. “It’s a promise that you will hear this story again and again and again from people who know Roman from legends only. Every single time you hear the new version, you will start doubting which is the authentic one.”

“And who told you your version of the story, Logan?” peeped Patton. He was practically shaking from excitement.

“Mine?” Logan’s thin lips stretched into a wicked grin, reminding everyone just why he was the quartermaster, “Oh, I heard it from Roman himself. He's, perhaps, the least trustworthy source...”

***

Roman’s eyes used to be in the color of the horizon. The color of the future. That peculiar shade of teal which can be seen on the thin line dividing sky from the ocean. The resemblance was uncanny.

And they said: one evening, as a child, Roman looked into the mirror and saw the world opening itself right in front of him. He saw the treasures hidden deep on the bottom of the ocean, the diamonds waiting for him in the caves that weren't drawn on maps and the pearls shyly peaking through the parted lips of the green clams.

The very map of the most valued of values was hidden behind the thick veil of Roman’s eyelashes, at the teal bottom of his eyes. And he saw that every route and every track leading to those riches was drawn with azure line that pointed beyond the horizon.

But, Roman saw something more. Something that he promised to never share with anyone before he could grasp it with his own hands.

He saw gold. Shining in the sunlight, shimmering under the water. He was young, so young back then, and he thought that it must have been golden coins glimmering in the crystal clear water. Twinkling brightly under the surface just like the stars twinkle on the midnight sky.

It became a sole purpose for Roman. To touch, to grasp, to own this gold treasure.

The sea lured him, the ocean tempted him, the salt on his tongue mocked him. The deep waters and secrets hidden within them were what he was meant for - he realized and set off into the open seas of the unknown future.

***

“Did he find it?” Patton gasped, clenching his fingers around Logan’s wrist. The quartermaster didn’t bother to shake it off.

“Shush, don’t interrupt him, Patton,” tsked Virgil. His eyes were as big as saucers. Beneath a thick layer of interest, first sparks of longing were waking up to life. Logan smiled internally. This must have been what Roman meant when he said that Virgil had a potential that needed to be encouraged. Just like everyone who ended up in the sea, Virgil too longed for an adventure.

“I can’t stand the tension!” pouted Patton, looking impatiently at Logan. “So… did he find it? Did he find the gold? The treasures?”

The quartermaster’s lips broke into a smile but his eyes remained sad. Troubled even. He reached out and swiftly pulled the abandoned bottle. The room filled with the biting scent of rum. Logan watched the liquid in the bottle. In the candlelight the glass looked as if it was made out of jade, reminding of the treasures hidden in the seas.

“Yes,” Logan said finally, corked up the bottle and put it away. “At last Roman found the gold, he dreamt of.”

***

Sun after the storm - that’s how Roman referred to that day, that hour, that moment. There was also another expression he used to describe it. The other term that he uttered in secret, in complete silence when he was alone as if he was afraid that the demons may come after him and rip the words out of his throat.

“The fateful day that gold came to life.”

He was the only survivor from the storm that wrecked their ship. That much was clear. Roman watched all of his companions sink in the sea. He didn’t remember hearing the screams but he remembered the loud crash of waves above his head and that was enough. It was his first thought when he drifted back into consciousness.

His eyes - his teal eyes - were heavy and his lungs - warm with red blood lungs - were still full of the salty water. The soil beneath him smelt of algas and fish. And yet there was no saying, even then, that Roman woke up to live up to his dream.

The island appeared deserted. As deserted as he could tell by far. The sand was white and warm and the forest teased him insufferably with the possibility of finding something edible. But Roman was smarter than this. The most beautiful sceneries were hiding the darkest secrets.

So he walked down the shore, watching the familiar line of the horizon, enjoying the softness under his feet, breathing the air that he missed deeply when caged under the water.

The cove was small, too small for any ship to dock there. It was beautiful, yes, but if on a ship Roman would pay it no mind. But he had no ship and it was still a cove - probably the only place on this island that could possibly keep him alive. Sighing, Roman slipped down the rocks, hand clasped around long, sharpened stick.

His footsteps were perfectly silent. The way he walked, the way he sneaked, it was an art itself, it was a part of Roman that he kept buried deep inside. The delicate, fanciful side. The side that yearned for beauty.

He became a part of the scenery before he realized it - the only survivor with his hair tossed back, with his shirt stiff with the remaining salt and with teal eyes that mirrored the color of horizon.

The colors were spilling into the cove like an avalanche, brashly flashing with intensive hues against the shy whites of the sand. The greens as fresh as spring sprouts, the bronzes that tasted like chocolate, finally the azures and pale-blues bearing a peace and comfort. Beauty and grace was blossoming in the cove as one watched, leaving no space for wrongness.

Nothing, however could prepare Roman for the beauty he saw when he crouched on the big rock and looked into the crystal clear water.

The way it shone in his eyes, the way it shimmered, the way it teased his senses. It was a song itself. The gold was singing to him before Roman even heard voice. Before he even learnt that his gold - his beloved dream - had a voice.

His eyes raked over the long trace of golden scales - tiny but beautiful. His appreciation was growing with every inch covered with golden beads. He was taking in the view for as long as long the tail was - until it started melting into something softer, something wavering beneath the surface, something that made his breath hitch.

“Mermaid-” he gasped, instinctively backing away.

That sound itself was enough. It had to be because - what Roman didn’t know by then - he also had a voice that sounded beautifully in mermaid’s ears.

The surface rippled, the miniature waves hit the rocks and tiny bubbles of air rose to the surface. Roman blinked and suddenly there was a person - a man - leaning over the stone right in front of him. He was gazing curiously at Roman, his head tilted a little bit as if Roman was something to examine - not something to lure into deep water and drown. Drops of water were scattered across his cheeks, neck and shoulder like tiny freckles. They sparkled like a brilliant glitter.

“Don’t come any closer!” squeaked Roman and the man smiled in response.

“It may come as a surprise to you,” he replied, his voice mellow and relaxed, “But I can’t really step out of the water whenever I can.” his golden tail for a moment appeared over the surface, splashing the water at Roman.

And maybe it was the pirate’s soul in him or maybe it was the velvet-like tone in merman’s voice but Roman reached out, trying to grasp the gold that he had been searching for all his life. And soon there was hand in his hand and it was cold and slick but somehow it fitted perfectly and if earlier Roman had any doubts on the situation, now his fears were long gone. He chase for long but now the treasure was under his fingertips.

“I’m Roman,” his thumb ran over the barely visible scales on merman’s hands.

“I don’t have a name that you could use beyond the surface.” the merman shook his head. His eyes - golden eyes - were earnestly shining with hope and something akin to shame. “Every name I would tell you, would be a lie.”

“May I choose a name for you?” Roman leaned down, gazing at merman from above.

“You may choose your name for me. And I will wear it proudly.”

“Then, I choose a name ‘Deceit’. Since everything is a lie.”

The merman - Deceit - laughed loudly and it was like thousands of bells started ringing all at once. “Darling,” he purred, “Everything might be a lie, but I’m plenty real.” he smiled showing a row of sharp teeth. And Roman? Roman smiled because before his heart was long gone and his eyes and teals were now meant for one person only.

That was how their fate sealed before it even finished forming and the maps in Roman’s eyes were flooded with hot and crashing waves of passion.

They talked about this moment later, sitting almost side by side - Roman above the water and Deceit beneath it. They talked about it when they were almost touching - nothing more than the delicate weight of one hand on the other. They talked about this moment trying to figure out what brought them together and how they knew that they were meant for each other. Trying to figure out how was it possible that they responded to bonding song so quickly.

Like the tidal waves, they meant halfway and clashed into each other with a force so strong that it was enough to wake up the monsters sleeping in the oceans. And by the way water flowed around them and by the way the horizon darkened, they knew that their love had no chance against the power of the sea.

***

In the books that are no longer readable and in the memories of people who died a long time ago there are stories. Legends. Warnings.

If a man or a woman are married to the sea, they have no right to fall in love with the Child of Waves and Tears.

The sea is not a forgiving lover, not a merciful partner, once it closes the heavy lid over your head - it won’t let you out. And if you try to escape it will reach out for you, it will chase after you until it catches you, crading the soft body and warm skin close to its chest.

That’s how the sea loves its lovers.

That’s how it forbids them to meld with its children.

***

Roman wasn’t blind. He could see the dark clouds over their heads. Deceit wasn’t mute, he could hear the way sea roared for them. Both of them. Every day was pushing them straight into the arms of tragedy.

Therefore, their first kiss was chaste and filled with as much excitement as fear.

Deceit was so close and when Roman leaned down like he always did, it turned out that they were much closer than expected. The smell of salt and home. Their shared home - the sea.

When the skin brushed the skin and when the lips brushed against the lips, the sky above them opened, tearing the taste off their lips.

Roman guessed that Deceit tasted like salt and water but he couldn’t be sure. The sea didn’t let him find out. He could watch and he could touch but he couldn’t melt into Deceit as he used to melt into cold waves that lulled him into sleep for so many years. He longed.

Once the rain stopped, they read the signs on the sand. Deceit’s tail was reflecting the colorful shades of the rainbow above their heads.

“It appears clear to me that Mother doesn’t want for us to stay together,” whispered Deceit, his lips dangerously close to Roman’s ear.

“Mother?” echoed Roman.

Deceit looked at the horizon. Its color reminded him of Roman’s eyes. Deceit had always dreamt of crossing the line of horizon.

“The sea may be my mother but you pledged yourself to her and she likes you too much to let go off you. It’s obvious by the way she favours you. She was merciful enough to bring us together. Throwing me into the cove and throwing you at the shore. It’s her doing.” Deceit ran his fingers up Roman’s thigh. He wished he was strong enough to fully pull his body out of the water. “She felt our destiny but didn’t expect for it to fulfill the rest of our life.”

“So the sea…” Roman’s voice broke a little bit. The song in Deceit’s ears had never been sadder. “She wants us apart.”

***

“But Roman loves the sea!” Patton explained, barely holding back his tears. “He couldn’t just give up on that!”

“He couldn’t,” Logan agreed quietly. The waves shook the ship, trying to push the memories out of his head. “Neither could Deceit. The sea made both of them. Gave them purpose in life, gave them solace and home. And they offered their life in return.”

***

Love is like a double edged sword - it is a perfect weapon but it could easily be used against the warrior holding it.

The sea was smart - she knew that they would give up their life for each other so she had to take something much more precious from them. She had to steal something imprinted in their memory. Something as precious as their most hidden treasures. She had to break them apart with their own weapon.

The storm broke in the middle of the night when everything was as dark as spilled ink. They never slept close - Deceit needed water to restore his energy and Roman needed the tiniest amount of warmth that a shelter could provide.

Two screams intertwined in the sky in one, shared song. It was barely audible over the loud thunder and thick streams of rain.

Roman could feel the sharp cut of the wind and water on his legs, arms and face. It didn’t stop him though, he kept walking towards the water, step by step, inch by inch. He thought he could hear a broken sob in the air. It was wet, heart-wrecking sound and Roman knew that it was the sea crying for him and Deceit. She hated their suffering but she also hated the idea of them being together even more. One final blow of icy cold wind slapped Roman across his face, digging into his eyes, forcing tears out of them, making the maps and plans slip down his cheeks. He didn’t stop to gather them. He didn’t shove them into pockets. Instead he walked over them, crushing teal veils under his heels.

One thought - get to Deceit as fast as it was humanly possible. He didn’t even get that only last chance.

Roman passed away midway through the beach. Just a couple of meters away from his beloved.

***

Deceit pushed himself up the shore while his arms screamed in pain. He knew that he had to get away from water unless he wanted it to throw him into the darkest corners of the globe, for so long that he would lose his way back to Roman.

“Better now or never.” he hissed through clenched teeth, focusing on the skin under the golden scales on his tail. Some merfolk could transform their tail into legs but Deceit had never tried that before.

He expected the pain, he expected the turmoil. He didn’t expect the fire. Filled with cold blood and used to the icy water Deceit knew no warmth except of Roman’s. The fire ripping his scales of was unbearable. Every scale felt as if it was set on fire as if it was trying to burn out the remaining gold.

He tried moving further, dragging his barely-legs behind himself.

He passed away midway through the beach. Just a couple of meters from his beloved.

***

“And what happened next?” Patton inquired, practically leaning on Logan’s side. His stubby fingers were digging into quartermaster’s arm. Virgil with fevered eyes was peaking over his brother’s shoulder.

Logan shrugged, knowing well that his answer would disappoint the audience. It happened to the best of stories - it was tempting to colorize the ending. But Logan promised to himself that he would tell this story as it was told to him.

“That’s the end. Roman and Deceit never met again.” he sighed, hopping off the table, “Few days later Roman was found unconscious on the drifting boat. His pockets were full of golden coins. When he opened his eyes they have already been red.”

Patton’s face dropped, “So the color…”

Helplessly, to show just as little of comfort he had to offer, Logan opened his arms. What was he supposed to say? That Roman’s eyes lost the color when the sea hit him with the final blow? That the teal canvas slipped off and buried down in the white sand on some neglected island? Logan was a pirate, he had seen many strange things but even he sometimes had doubts for this part of the story.

“I told you at the beginning,” huffed Logan, pushing the table back under the wall, “Roman told me this story and you know that he has a tendency to… embellish some aspects.”

Virgil nodded thoughtfully. The adventurous sparks were still shining in his eyes. Maybe he was a fit for a pirate after all.

“What did Roman do with the gold though?” Patton poked Virgil’s cheek.

“Oh, that?” Logan asked and drained the bottle, “He spent all of this money to buy Creativity and hire the crew. And, among many others, I was lucky enough to be a part of that first crew.” he added with a very self-pleased smile. It was clear that he was very proud of that.

The storm outside shook the windows. More of the violent raindrops drummed against the glass, splashing the streams that were already running down them.

“Now that you know this story you can stop asking.” finished Logan, talking a step towards the door. “But don’t mention Roman that you heard it from me. Although I know that he wouldn’t be angry for telling you, he just… doesn’t like being reminded of Deceit.”

With these words Logan left the room, leaving Virgil and Patton alone with their thoughts and silent mourning after the tragic love.

***

The rainpour was getting bigger and bigger as Roman slipped into the mostly abandoned warehouse. The door closed behind him with a barely loud squeak. Tentatively, Roman looked around trying to see through the darkness surrounding him. Slowly, as his eyes got used to the darkness, the shadows started reminding more of shapes than a blurry nothingness. The barrels, empty caskets, piles of wood and finally - the skeleton of a ship that was never meant to be finished.

Feeling vaguely secure Roman stepped further into the warehouse. He could hear the water splashing against the sharp edges of the stones where the water met with the ground.

His heart was pounding inside his chest. He really hoped that his feeling wasn't wrong. But no, it couldn't be. He doubted he could ever mistake the song in his ears for something else. Every sound and every tune was perfectly audible for him, despite the rain trashing the harbor outside. The song was growing louder and cleared over the past few days, ever since he saw the dark clouds of the horizon.

Rain, yes rain. The stormy clouds - the twin sisters of the sea.

It was… Familiar. How could he possibly forget both the song in his ears and the sound of rain that aimed to drag him away from the singer.

Roman took another step forward. Wet stone crunched under his heel.

"Silence did not become one of your traits, I presume."

Roman froze. He thought that he was prepared. He wasn't.

"Dee…" He uttered, frantically looking for a familiar shadow under the water. The song in his ears stopped.

Melodic laugh vibrated through the air, shaking Roman's body to the core.

"Last time I checked you called me another name," replied still shapeless, bodiless, faceless Deceit.

With shaking hands Roman tried to light up the matches he was clenching. Only lonely spark jumped into the water, for a moment, brightening the darkness beneath the surface. There was nothing there.

Letting out a shaky exhale, Roman laughed nervously, "I thought that giving you a nickname would be a nice touch." He said, fumbling with another match.

And suddenly there were hands on his hand - cold and silky wet - and there was a weight on his back and if someone was leaning over him. And there was a breath on his earshell and it smelt like salt and home.

"It is a nice touch, I must admit." The whisper was much closer this time. It was the voice of the devil, the voice of the monster, the voice of Roman’s greatest love.

Roman watched the cold hand lay over his and press the match against the flint. Fire erupted in front of his eyes. He quickly lit up the fuse of his lantern and the room filled up with warmth that Roman felt in his heart. It was hard to turn around. Not yet. Not yet. He wasn’t ready. Even though he waited for so long. The thunder slashed the sky above the roof, sending sparks through his body.

“Well, I guess that Mother’s not happy for our meeting.” laughed Deceit bitterly, pressing his cheek against Roman’s shoulder.

Wet laugh rolled down Roman’s tongue. It turned out to be more of a sob than a laugh. There was a shift behind him and then there were lips pressing against his neck and a whisper against his earshell.

“I want to look into your eyes, Roman.”

And Roman had always been weak for that sweet voice, for that beautiful song. In a split of a second - as if someone finally pulled his strings - he turned around and it was like all the air fled from his lungs.

“Deceit.” he uttered and pressed his lips against the lips, for the first time tasting its salt. It was somewhat sweet of Roman’s tongue.

The kiss was returned within a second, of course it was. It was the first time they could actually kiss even if it was just for a moment, even if it was just for a minute.

The wind and rain had already been banging against the doors and windows when Roman stepped away, his hands still resting on Deceit’s arms. Only then did he realize that Deceit was standing, standing, in front of him without any help.

“I learnt how to turn my tail into legs,” explained Deceit, seeing Roman’s gaze. He sounded almost embarrassed and Roman’s heart flipped in his chest.

Soon enough however that shy expression melted under the pressure of something gloomier. Deceit’s hand moved to cup Roman’s cheek, thumb running over the skin beneath his eye.

“I see. That Mother wasn’t entirely merciful for you either.” He said, letting out a pained sigh, “Your eyes.” he added, sensing Roman’s confusion, “They used to be different color.”

“I cried the color out of them when I realized that we parted.” said Roman smiling slightly, brushing his fingers against the reddened scales covering a half of Deceit’s face.

“Ha, and here I thought that I was the bigger liar among the two of us,” Deceit chuckled, winking at Roman. “I know the sea's doing when I see it.” His legs wobbled a little bit and he had to brace himself against Roman’s arm. The other didn’t complain. “I’m sorry, it’s still hard for me to stand like that for too long…” he bit his cheek, “Would you mind if I...?” he gestured at the dark pool inside the warehouse.

Instead of answering Roman scooped him into his arms and - as if Deceit was lighter than a feather - carried him into the water. It was obnoxiously hard to let go off this weight. Roman imagined that he could easily carry Deceit around all day long. The small pleasant noise that Deceit let out was at least a little bit of a reward.

“It’s not golden anymore,” Roman noted pointing at the newly reformed tail, without a surprise.

Deceit shrugged. “I wear my punishment proudly,” he added, waving his crimson fin at Roman.

Another massive blow hit the warehouse. This time both of them glanced at the creaking, wooden roof.

“I’m afraid we should go soon. The storm will calm down once you leave the dock.” said Deceit after a couple of moments.

Roman’s heart lurched to the side. He wasn’t ready. Not yet. Shut the door, lay bricks in the windows. Just give him some more time.

“Will I see you again?” he asked instead. It came out weaker than he expected. He leaned down and gripped Deceit’s hand. It was so slippery in his own. He was afraid that it would slip out of his grasp any moment soon.

“Yes,” replied Deceit instantly.

“When? Where?”

“I don’t know when and I don’t know where.” Deceit shook his head, “You must look out for the dark clouds in the sky and red trail in the water. There I will be.” he added, trying to pull his hand out of the hold.

“Can you promise that?” Roman demanded, tightening his hold. His heart was hammering against his ribcage.

In a flash:

Lips against his lips. Salt that tastes sweeter than it should.

His hands left empty.

One echoed whisper. “I promise”

Roman was alone. The rain outside stopped raining.

***

They fell hard. As hard as the waves crash against the shore. As hard as the dead body falls into the cold water of the ocean.

Their love was hot and wild. As hot as blood pumping through their veins. As wild as the water under their fingers. Hot and wild like blood in Roman’s eyes and Deceit’s scales.

When they were apart they were singing lullabies for each other. The moonlight being the messenger. Their melodies danced on the peaceful surface of the sea.

When they were together, the tornado was shaking the world. The edges of their bodies were as hazy as the clouds in the sky.

One slash was enough to cut them apart, two slashes were enough to give them a reason to fight.

The sea.

The way it opens in front of them, cold and eager. Ah, so eager. Endless, deep, ruthless, selfish and demanding.

The sea.

The way it closes it shell, trying to keep the warmth inside, trying to keep its children away from each other. It doesn’t realize that it has already marked them as each other’s forever.

***

Roman opened his crimson eyes.

The waves were crashing against the sides of Creativity. The sky above him was darkening with beautiful navy color. He looked at the horizon. Where the sun was touching the sea, he could see the tiniest red glow.

“Change of the course, Logan.” called Roman sharply, “We’re sailing into the west.”

the end.

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illyrianwingspans · 4 years

Text

Do Not Go Gentle: Everybody Loves You

Link to song: Everybody Loves You by Charlotte Lawrence

Synopsis: An interrogation, and an overall shit night.

TW: Mentions of abuse and self harm. Please, if you’re sensitive to these topics, read with caution.

Ao3 Link

Chapter 20: Everybody Loves You

“The footage shows you being taken away from Spring Corporations by Cassian Noctis. By the looks of it you were sedated, and he carried you down to the parking garage where the getaway car was waiting to transport you. He was aided by Alis Cedarwood, who helped him with the locks and security codes.”

The stainless steel table beneath my forearms was just as cold as the festering emptiness in my bones. I didn’t even look up to detective Hanson as I croaked, “And did you scan the footage twenty minutes before that? When my fiancee was dragging me away from the elevator as I tried to escape?”

“The rest of the footage was blank. Only Mr. Ivy and his associates leaving while you stayed in your office.”

I snorted. Everything felt distorted, like reality was caving in on itself. “Of course he did.”

“Tamlin filed a missing person’s report. He’s been trying to find you for over two weeks now.”

I flinched at the sound of his name.

“Oh, I know. He tracked me through my phone and tried to break into Cassian Noctis’s condo. I had to hide away from him.”

“You were kidnapped, Mrs. Ivy. It’s okay that you’re in shock.”

“I’m not in shock, and don’t you dare fucking call me that. He is not my husband, and I was not kidnapped.”

Detective Hanson sighed and sat down across from me, opening up the beige file on the table. My picture was in it, along with a pile of annotated documents I couldn’t read from where I sat. The man was older, in his fifties maybe, with salt and pepper hair and hard lines marking his face. His blue eyes were void of any emotion as he asked, “Then please, explain. If you weren’t kidnapped, then why haven’t you contacted us before? Why let this drag on for so long?”

“I haven’t contacted you because tonight was the first time I heard he’d filed a missing person’s report. After he nearly broke into Cassian’s apartment, I thought maybe he would’ve—but never heard anything since. I just wanted to leave him and be done with it.”

“You wanted to leave him.”

A statement more than a question, and I only nodded my head.

“Why?”

I could’ve written an entire damn thesis on why I wanted to leave him, needed to leave him, but I only said, “Call in Morrigan Noctis.”

He only lifted a brow, and made a beckoning signal above his shoulder to the mirror—which I knew was a one-way glass window on the outside. We sat in silence for the few minutes it took before the door opened, and in came Mor, her eyes instantly finding mine and filled with worry.

“Close the door.”

It shut behind her with a creaking noise. I did not look at either of them when I breathed, “Show him the pictures.”

The pictures of my destruction. The ones Mor knew would be useful one day, despite everything that screamed in my head during those agonizing moments not to do it. Hesitantly, she pulled out her phone and tapped around until it sat on the table.

I could see the outline of a bruise on my ribs, and I bit my lip, averting my eyes. I couldn’t look at them. I refused to go back into those moments of pure horror.

Detective Hanson swiped through the photos, a cold, glinting look in his eyes. When he reached the end, he looked up to me and said, “Tamlin Ivy did this to you?”

The sound of his name reverberated through me. I did not stutter or hesitate as I replied, “Yes.”

“You may leave now, Ms. Noctis. Send those photos to the officer at the door.”

Mor gave a nod of her head, looked once more at me with pure strength and determination in her eyes. I was grateful for that look, and tried to feel even an ounce of the those conveyed emotions.

Once the door shut softly behind her, Detective Hanson said, “Just to be clear, the statement you’re giving is that you left Spring Corporations willingly.”

“Yes.”

“This wasn’t a kidnapping, you weren’t blackmailed—”

“No,” I seethed, “I am not being fucking blackmailed.”

“Look, Ms. Archeron, I’m trying to do my job. You were engaged to Tamlin Ivy, CEO of Spring Corporations, then found with one of the heads of Night Industries after being supposedly missing for two weeks. I wouldn’t put it past either companies to pull some kind of sick stunt for the purpose of their feud.” It was common knowledge that the two hated each other—almost like a game they’d been playing with the city of Prythian as their audience all these years. Hanson splayed his hands across the file, and held my gaze as he said, “The only thing that concerns me here are the facts. The fact was they provided me with video footage that lead me believe you’d been taken against your will. But now with the pictures Ms. Morrigan just brought up, I’m inclined to believe you.” His eyes fluttered across the file before him, and he added, “It’s not a crime to cut ties with someone. The people you left may not understand, may want answers—but you don’t owe them anything. It is your life, and it is your right to exercise your free will. Your privacy will be respected, Feyre, I can promise you that.”

Relief settled in my stomach and I closed my eyes, grateful tears stinging at my throat. “Thank you.”

“Do you want to press charges against Mr. Ivy? For the assault?”

“No,” I shook my head, “I just want to go home. I need to go home.”

“I just need you to sign a few things first then you’ll be on your way, Feyre.”

I looked down at the sheet and pen he placed in front of me and began to scrawl in my personal information. Address, phone number, email, signature and initials.

Hanson did a once over of the papers, then, for the first and only time during our interaction, gave me a warm smile. “You’re free to go.”

***

Hanson and I walked back down the bright hallway, away from the interrogation room, through the office cubicles around the police station. The officers were either on phone calls, filling out paperwork or speaking to people seated beside their desks. Despite the loud room, we continued on to the double doors beyond where the main space was, filled with civilians and cops alike.

The rupture of noise hit me as we approached the doors. My brows furrowed, and I looked to Hanson, who only heaved a sigh before pushing open against the handle.

In that moment, two pairs of eyes shot to me. Rhys’s, filled with relief—and fear.

The second pair, the ones I’d learned to love, adore and fear, looked at me with disbelief.

They morphed into something other than rage. Something more potent, more vile, more abhorrent than I’d ever seen. Even from across the room, his gaze burned through me, and I felt myself disintegrating into a pile of ashes at my feet.

I completely froze. Ice held my feet planted on the tile floor beneath me, and all I could do was stare at him while the terror crept up my spine and threatened to snap me in half.

Move, my mind whispered. Don’t give him this. Do not give him this.

I’d given him too much already. I’d given him every piece of my fucking soul only to find it scattered across the barren battlefield of our love. Here I was, still picking up the pieces.

Two officers continued to hold him back as I slipped into my coat, scarf and slid the glasses back over my eyes. In order to put one foot in front of the other, in order to keep shoving breaths in and out of my lungs, I thought only of the bed waiting for me at home, knowing I would plunge into oblivion, and stay there for a long, long while.

***

The lights were still on inside the house when we got back.

I hadn’t said a word. I didn’t think I could. Not after the hurricane that swept through the night; not after seeing his face, feeling him so close to me again.

Rhys… despite it all, his face remained concentrated. Impassive. The only blip of emotion was relief, relief and concern as we both finally settled back in the car after trying to fly through the crowd of reporters. I prayed they didn’t get any good shots.

We barely made it to the kitchen before the door opened once more behind us. I flinched, expecting to see his face again, but it was Cassian who strode through the main hallway, his eyes meeting mine for only a second before his arms were wrapped around me.

“I’m so sor—” Cassian tried to murmur in my ear, but I shook my head against his chest.

“No,” I mumbled, “I’m sorry, Cassian. You shouldn’t have gotten tangled up in this. It’s my fault.”

“It is nobody’s fault except that Tool’s. Do not blame yourselves for a second.” Mor chimed in as she breezed past us, heading for the fridge. She pulled out a piece of chocolate and took a bite out of the bar. Pulling away from Cassian, I spotted the look of annoyance on Rhys’s face as the two made themselves at home.

Rhys said, “You know, we could really use a calm evening after all that bullshit.”

“But I’m out of booze,” Cassian pouted. Rhys rolled his eyes, but nodded his head, and Cassian looked like a damn Cheshire Cat as he made his way over to Rhys’s liquor cabinet.

The front door opened once more and in strode Amren and Azriel. The woman took one look at me, a charged, electric moment after what’d gone down last night, and I merely nodded. She did so once, a dip of her chin in return, and that was that. She didn’t seem like the ‘talk it over’ type.

“That was close. That was really fucking close, Rhysand, and I don’t trust this at all.” Amren quipped before hopping up on the counter.

“I know,” the dark haired main sighed, “we should’ve been on top of that.”

“Hybern probably kept it quiet for a reason to take us by surprise. We know he has his fangs in the Prythian Police Department.” Azriel added quietly from beside me.

I stared at Cassian who was pouring himself a half-glass of scotch. My mouth was dry after speaking with detective Hanson, and all I wanted right now was a fucking drink. Suriel’s warning sounded in my head and I knew I shouldn’t, but it was so tempting and my patience had thinned after all that’d happened tonight.

“What’s our next move?” Mor wondered as she made her way through the chocolate bar.

Amren said, “We need more information. Anything we can get on these guys—their goals, their next target…”

“We all know what he wants,” Cassian said as he took a sip of his drink. “He wants Illyria.”

“And Ivy wants Feyre.” Azriel added. I tried as best as I could to not let my mind settle on what he just said. Azriel’s voice was smooth as shadows. He seemed to blend into the background, even now as he leaned against the kitchen counter beside the fridge.

Their voices piled up amongst each other as they argued where to go next, who to find, old files to dig through—but I was only watching Rhys as his eyes seemed to search his kitchen island. It was like a puzzle laid out before him, like a scattering of stars in the sky, and he was connecting the dots to form a constellation.

“The Bone Carver,” Rhys suddenly said.

Eyes snapped up, and my brow furrowed. How more fucking ominous could he be?

“The Bone Carver. He knows everything about anything illegal. We should set up a meeting.”

“How the hell are we going to do that?” Amren snapped.

Rhys only looked to them and said, “I’ve got old friends at the penitentiary. I’ll give them a call tomorrow.”

“It’s a long shot, Rhys,” Mor countered.

He shrugged his shoulders, a thin, and his mouth formed a thin, sad line on his face. “What else do we have?”

Cassian sighed. “I’m sure as hell not going.”

“No. But I know someone who might need a first assignment on the job.” Rhys winked at me.

My breath hitched in my throat. No, the Bone Carver did not sound like a friendly face to meet.

“By the Gods. You’re going to scare her away before we’ve even had the chance to go to brunch,” Mor whined, then paraded over to the family room. The others trailed along behind her, bantering about some football game at U of P the other day, but Rhys and I remained in the kitchen for a few moments longer.

Fury, it was pure lethal fury on his face as those cops struggled to hold him back—

“I need a drink,” I finally muttered as I opened up his liquor cabinet as quietly as I could.

“Feyre—” Rhys warned from behind me as I pulled out a bottle of tequila.

“I’ve had a really fucking shit night, Rhys,” I said quietly as I took a stray glass from the counter. He was quiet as I filled it halfway with tequila, took a sip, then went over to the sink to fill the rest up with water. “And I know I shouldn’t be drinking, I know it’s not a good way to cope, but my only other way of dealing with this right now is locking myself in the bathroom with something sharp. So, please, just let me drink.”

Rhys didn’t say a word as I brought the glass to my lips and began downing it. It stung my throat, it burnt my stomach and made me want to heave all over the kitchen, but I sucked it down like it was fucking ambrosia, because the only thing I saw in my mind was red bathwater and swollen welts.

When I looked to Rhys, his face was devastated. “What do you mean?”

I didn’t answer him before I went upstairs and locked myself in my room.

***

The house was quiet as I traipsed over to the bathroom.

It was the middle of the night. I’d woken up curled in my bed on top of the sheets, not even bothering to kick my shoes off. The tequila had knocked me out cold, but I still felt it in my stomach, making me sluggish and lethargic. Water. I needed water.

Hunched over the sink, I gulped down a few mouthfuls from the faucet before turning it off. When I lifted my head up and stared at myself in the mirror, I saw a woman staring back at me.

A woman I wouldn’t recognize if I saw her walking down main street.

I needed something. Every cabinet I dug through was empty or just stocked with necessities: soap, toilet paper, an old bottle of sunscreen—

Nothing here. Nothing useful for me.

But there was this living ball of white, paralyzing panic in my chest, and I knew the only relief I could offer it was a sharp-edged blade. My fingers gripped the counter top, a choked breath rattling from my throat, and my feet nearly stumbled towards the bathtub. Shaking, my legs quietly cleared the ledge until I could squat down and finally rest back against the head of the tub, my feet extending before me.

I looked to the side and found a sponge. It wasn’t much, but it distracted my fingers as I rode out the wave, the nagging urge and itch in my skin, and squeezed the sponge tightly in my right fist. Open, close. Open, close. It was the only thing my mind could focus on.

I didn’t even hear the door open. But when my eyes opened, Rhys was there, standing at the threshold of the bathroom, a question mark on his face.

“What.”

“You’re awake,” Rhys said as he crossed over and stood beside me, hands in his pockets. He still wore the same jeans and polo sweater from our walk this afternoon, and his dark hair looked tousled, like he’d been running his hands through it repeatedly. As though he’d been staying awake all night, just in case I’d wake up. Guilt found its home within my chest, and I looked away from him, unable to meet his eyes.

All I could focus on, though, was my hand clenched on the sponge at my side. Open. Close. Open. Close.

My thighs burned, itching against the material of my sweatpants.

“Just needed some water.”

“What are you doing in the tub, Feyre.” The look in his features, the concern and troubled worry—

I squeezed my eyes shut at the tightness in my chest. I couldn’t cry, I couldn’t keep fucking falling apart whenever someone showed me a hint of kindness. Had I been deprived of this basic human sentiment for so long that my body careened every time it appeared?

I focused on the sponge. Open. Close. Open. Close—

Rhys stepped into the porcelain tub before me, as he had all those nights ago when I’d been here washing the blood off my hands. My feet retracted and I curled up, trying to cave in on myself.

Open. Close. Open. Close.

“Number,” he murmured.

When I lifted my head to face him, tears crinkled in the corner of my eyes, and my voice wasn’t itself—it was hollow, empty, as I said, “Zero.”

“Feyre.” His voice stumbled on those two syllables.

“Tonight, when I saw him, when I had to show them those pictures, I felt like a zero. Nothing. Exactly what he turned me into.” I could only stare at my thighs, covered by the thin cotton fabric, as though I could right through it to the cuts below. “Exactly what I felt that night on the ledge, and I didn’t want to let myself fall into that fucking trap again. So I drank, and I didn’t care, because the alternative…”

Open. Close.

“This is the alternative,” I breathed, “this. Right here.”

“Tell me.” His voice was filled with despair. “Help me understand.”

Open. Close.

Tears streamed down my face.

“I got into a really bad car accident two years ago,” I explained, “and I killed someone.”

I didn’t think he was breathing. The house was completely silent, save for the rush of cars from the city beyond.

“He…” I choked as I nearly said his name. “He got me out of it. With the police and everything. The charges just went away, and we carried on like nothing ever happened.

“But I kept seeing that woman.” The images flooded my mind from that night, being stuck beneath the car and the smoke consuming me, the mangled metal surrounding me— “I kept seeing her face in my nightmares. I killed somebody. Not like James and Isaac, not because the situation was them or me—I killed her because I wasn’t paying attention to the road, and I didn’t see the red light. Everything after that just fell apart.

“I dropped out of school. I moved into the apartment. I was pissing away my life just staying at home and doing absolutely nothing. And every night, I’d see her in my nightmares.”

Rhys’s hand, carefully, gently, settled on the cold skin of my shin. His warmth leeched past the fabric covering my leg. A sign, no matter how small or insignificant, of support.

“I didn’t know how to deal with it.” My eyes finally trailed up to meet his.

Open. Close.

“I started cutting myself. Don’t,” I choked on the word, not believing that I’d finally said it out loud, “don’t ask me how or why, it just made sense for some reason. Because I hated myself, and I was spinning out of control, and it was the only time that I could fucking feel something after I’d gone so numb.”

His voice as quiet and smooth as midnight, he asked, “For how long?”

“A year. Until he found me one day in the bathtub and thought I was bleeding out.” I didn’t need to specify who it was, because I’d be damned if I ever fucking said his name again. I shook my head, unable to make the horror in his eyes disappear that moment he saw me. “I didn’t hear him knocking.”

“Did you ever see anyone about it?”

“I went to the ER and got stitches, and we never really spoke about it again.” I shrugged my shoulders. “I didn’t want to.” A bubble of hysteric laughter crept up my throat as I stared down at myself. “And now here I am, doing everything I can not to go downstairs and grab a kitchen knife.” I inhaled, and it felt like it was the first breath I’d taken in minutes.

“You need to tell Suriel about this.”

“I know,” I whispered softly. “It’s like there’s so many thoughts trapped in my mind and I don’t have the strength to let them out.”

“You do, Feyre,” Rhys leaned towards me until I felt his fingers on mine, gently prying away the sponge from my hands and setting it down on the ledge above the tub. “You may not see it, but you’re a lot stronger than you think.” His hand found mine once again, and he laced our fingers together.

“It’s going to take a while before I figure that out.” My eyes met his as we crouched there in his tub in the dark. He only tilted his head to the side, a small, hopeful smile on his lips.

“I know.” He squeezed my hand. “But I’m gonna be right here the entire time.”

___________________________________________________________

A little note about this chapter.

So, this was exhausting to write. The ending still isn't satisfying for me, and I actually wanted to erase all the mentions of self-harm in this fic because when I looked back on it, I thought it didn't fit. But I'm going to keep it there because I need to. If you've read my other fic, you know I write a lot about self-harm, and to be completely honest, it's because it helps me. As someone who's dealt with these issues in the past, writing about it is like a therapy for me where I can voice everything that I wished I could've when I had the chance. My main concern is that readers think I'm just using it as a tool for character development or as a petty plot point. It's really not that at all. It's for me. If you don't like it or don't agree with it, I'm not going to apologize for what I do to help myself. Because it really does help me, and I hope that if you are currently struggled or have struggled with self-harm in the past that it can hopefully help you to. Also, I don't want it to seem like I'm romanticizing self-harm. It's not something cool or beautiful or whatever, it actually just feels really shameful and embarrassing. But please, if you feel like I may be crossing any sort of lines in any way, or if you just want a friend to talk to, feel free to message me because I'm all ears.

Hope you're all safe and healthy. And, as always, if ever you're feeling down, just know that there are people out there to help you. The situation we're in is really fucking awful right now, and I just want to let you know that even if you're not being personally affected by the virus, it's okay to feel depressed. It's okay to feel anxious. What we're experiencing right now is unprecedented, and just because we're socially distant doesn't mean we aren't able to reach out to each other. Sending you all my love. Stay safe.

#dngg #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #sjm #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #feyre #rhys #rhysand #feysand #feysand fanfic #feysand fanfiction

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yehet-me-up · 5 years

Text

The Play’s The Thing

Pairing: Jongin x reader

Genre: theater/actors!AU, friends to lovers, fluff

Rating: PG13 for language

Word Count: 2,683

Request: "I can't take making love to anyone but you" NINI SMUT FAMKS

‘Fanny! You are killing me!’

‘No man dies of love but on the stage, Mr. Crawford.’

‘You seemed almost as fearful of notice and praise as other women were of neglect,’ Daniel says to you, with undue pomp and circumstance.

He carries on with the rest of his monologue, so seriously and stiffly that you want to snort. You catch Jongin’s amused look from where he stands and almost cave. For weeks he’s shown an almost supernatural ability to make you lose your ass and laugh at the most inopportune times.

But this isn’t your first rodeo; nor is it your first overly self-important acting partner, and you refuse to break character. Fanny Price would be proud indeed of your composure.

Other than Daniel’s overacting, the dress rehearsal goes off without a hitch. Tomorrow night you’ll be on stage again, this time in full costume and make-up, living your dream. The thought makes your stomach buzz with excitement. No matter how many plays you do, it never gets old.

‘I don’t know how you keep a straight face,’ a male voice says in your ear later, in the dressing room.

His breath teases the skin of your neck and you grin involuntarily. You can’t help it, no matter how professional and composed you try to be Jongin has a certain effect on you. When you turn he’s slinging his bag over his shoulder and raising a brow at you.

You turn off the lights at your dressing station and give him a wink. ‘Patience you must have, my young padawan.’

He turns off his own and folds his arms, leaning a hip on the table. ‘Want to run lines tonight?’

Your grin fades. ‘I think we’re both as ready as we’ll ever be,’ you reply quickly. Best to keep your distance from him, now that this is almost over.

Instantly you regret the words as you watch his face fall. Dammit, he looks like a sad puppy dog and all you can think about is kissing his stupidly handsome face. Therein lies the problem; if you go to the bar down the street, or to his apartment or yours, one more time and run lines with him... you might officially fall in love with him.

Which is definitely not going to happen.

‘We could just get a drink then? To celebrate opening night tomorrow?’

You sigh, caving and hating yourself for it. ‘Alright fine. But you’re buying.’

‘Deal.’ He smiles - so easily, so brightly, you wonder how on earth he’s remained so untainted by the world that joy comes so easily to him.

The walk to Mulligan’s down the street is your hell and your heaven all in one. It’s an exquisite torture to be walking down the sidewalk in NYC with such a handsome man beside you, watching the sky paint a colorful sunset

His arm is warm and strong slung casually around your waist. The way he meanders in an out of conversation with joy. Both would make it seem like you’re a couple to anyone passing by.

You sigh as he holds open the door and escorts you to the familiar booth you usually occupy in the corner.

He even orders for you. Not in a possessive asshat way, like he knows best. But with an ease bred from the fact that he knows what you like. It should shock you, that you’d be fine with someone else taking control, but by this point you’re used to being surprised by Jongin.

‘Are you excited for tomorrow? Or nervous?’ you ask him conversationally once the drinks arrive.

He takes a drink and considers the question, his brows tugging together. ‘Hmm, mostly excited. It may only be my second official rodeo, but I think I’m ready.’

‘That’s good, I’m glad. You’ve been working your ass off. If I didn’t know you were still a rookie I’d have thought you’ve been doing this for years.’

He bows dramatically in thanks. ‘What are you most looking forward to about the opening tomorrow?’

‘Tomorrow I get to catch you in flagrante delicto with Jennifer Rogers and try not to laugh my ass off on stage. So that will be fun.’ You joke with him, but inside the thought makes you want to punch something.

‘Oh, come on. You know I can’t take making love to anyone but you,’ he counters with a cheesy grin.

His eyes are teasing, but they also drift down to focus on your lips briefly and you feel that frisson of heat that stirs annoyingly whenever you think about kissing him for real, off stage.

‘Easy tiger, Fanny Price is a lady,’ you say with a hair flip. ‘The most she does on stage is kiss. Thank you very much.’

‘She does kiss two different men though,’ he says with a waggle of his brows. ‘Scandalous.’

‘Jerk.’ You laugh and throw a sugar packet at him.

He dodges it easily. ‘So. Who’s the better kisser, me or Daniel?’

‘Who’s the better kisser, me or Jenn?’ you counter rapidly to avoid letting him know how much you love to make out with him on stage.

He holds up his hands in surrender. ‘Touché.’

The waitress stops by and he orders another round and some french fries.

‘You know, I saw her and that AADA prick who plays Mr. Rushworth making out in the props closet last week,’ he says conversationally.

Your eyebrows shoot up. ‘Well, at least it’s on brand, right?’

He laughs easily and takes another swig of his beer. ‘They seem happy. I’m glad for them.’

‘Kind of cliche, don’t you think? Falling in love while performing Mansfield Park,’ you say.

He runs his thumb along a deep groove in the wood of the table, his brows pulling together in thought. ‘I think it’s nice. Life imitating art and all that. Especially when it comes to love. More love is never a bad thing.’

You laugh, too loudly for the moment, and take another sip. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs, his lips tugging into a lopsided grin.

‘I know, you think I’m too sentimental,’ he says, holding your gaze.

One day you’re going to sit down and figure out how the hell he gets behind your miles of armor, you think. How he undoes you and makes you more vulnerable and exposed than you’ve ever been. As if there’s something in his cologne or on his touch that makes him your truth serum.

‘No, it’s not that at all,’ you say and swallow around the feelings rising in you. ‘I think it’s sweet that you believe in love so much.’

‘There are as many forms of love as there are moments in time,’ he says dramatically, waving an arm broadly out to his side.

‘Okay fine. I’ll give you that,’ you say pointing at him with the hand holding your beer.

‘You must believe in it to some degree. Even the most cold hearted actress has to have a bit of a soft and sentimental interior. You have to, to do what we do.’

‘Yes, of course.’ He knows how much you hate talking about feelings, but you decide to indulge him. ‘I love my family dearly, natch. My friends. My cats. And I love acting. I’m so blessed to be doing this full time.’

You look around at the dive bar; the faded neon lights, the bikers playing pool in the corner, the waitress carrying a gigantic plate of nachos. You think about your self-described heart of stone and wonder what you’d qualify as love.

‘I love queso, no question. A damn fine cup of coffee. Walks through Central Park when it’s snowing. I love discovering an amazing musical off- off- off- Broadway and knowing it will blow up soon, but I saw it first. Still can’t say I’ve ever personally experienced the kind of love ol’ Jane was so keen on.’

He ponders that while he watches you, a question working its way around his face and you know it’s going to hit you hard when he asks.

‘What kind of love do you have for me, then? Am I on par with queso?’

He doesn’t say it in a smart-ass way. Nor does he say it in jest. There’s something so sincere and open in his face when he asks that your mouth falls open slightly.

You don’t know whether to laugh or cry, and in that moment you see a million ways this could play out. Your creative mind can’t help but imagine endless possibilities.

You could slide back into the guise of the whip-smart, sassy woman you’re comfortable with and tell him he’ll need to buy you more than a few beers to earn the level of queso. Then he will stop looking like every romance lead ever and you’ll put him permanently in the ‘devilishly handsome, talented, and kind, but just friends’ category and all is well.

You could tease that he’s far too delicious to be just queso; that he’s perhaps an expensive dark chocolate. With sea salt. Maybe you’ll watch him with bedroom eyes and lick your lips. Maybe he’ll invites you back to his place and you will have sex, finally. Maybe you’ll get part, but not even close to all of what you secretly want from him.

You could tell him he makes your heart sing and causes you to want all the stupid things you swore you’d never be naive enough to want from a man.

You could tell him you love him more than New York city, damn near more than acting. You could tell him you’ve fallen head over heels for him over the past few months; that you’d even be willing to follow him back to LA when this play wraps.

But… no. He’s not some manic pixie dream boy, here to charm you out of your tough outer shell; or some hero, riding up on his white horse to save you from another night alone in your bed.

He’s just a man who couldn’t possibly want you back, who can’t know how much this question makes you long for things that will never be.

So you look down at your beer to escape the intensity of his gaze and shake your head slightly.

‘Yes, Jongin. I love you like I love queso. You’re equally as good with a beer.’ You give him a warm smile and click your bottle to his before taking a sip.

He chuckles to himself. ‘Are you going to leave me and run off with our oh-so-formal Daniel? Will I be cast aside just like Henry Crawford.’ He clutches his chest like the thought pains him.

‘Excuse me, you’re hardly Henry Crawford.’

He scoffs. ‘What, aren’t I as handsome? As impulsive? As romantic?’

‘Hmmm. Handsome, impulsive, and romantic? Yes, that’s definitely you. But a bastard and a cheat? Nah, you could ever be that.’

The joking leaves his eyes and he watches you curiously. You wonder what he sees.

‘So, you think I’m handsome then?’

You choke on a sip of beer. Shit. ‘Umm. I’m pretty sure anyone with a pulse would know you’re handsome. Aliens on Mars know it. Prehistoric fossils know it.’

He shakes his head, suddenly more serious. ‘No, but you think I’m handsome?’

The change in tone makes your heart race and you awkwardly brush your hair behind your ear. ‘Of course I do. Why does it matter though?’

He looks relieved and leans back in his chair. ‘Because I think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world and I just wanted to make sure you weren’t joking.’

He says it so matter of factly you struggle to accept the compliment. Surely he’s just being dramatic. ‘Ha ha, very funny.’

With a noise of frustration he grips the table and pulls his chair around so he’s sitting side by side with you. He holds your gaze and rests his hand on your knee.

With anyone else you’d be driven mad by how casual and touchy-feely he is. An arm across your shoulders at read-throughs. Nudging your feet with his when you lean against opposite couches at your place. The way he toys with the hair on the back of your neck when he thinks you’re focusing too hard.

‘I’m not kidding. I like you. A lot. You always laugh it off when I say something romantic, so I just assumed you weren’t interested in being more than friends.’

Your mouth falls open. ‘Are you fucking with me?’

He makes the damn puppy dog face again. ‘No, I’m not. I even tried to kiss you once, for real, remember? Backstage after that long night of blocking scenes last week?’

You frown and try to remember. ‘I mean... you helped me fix that necklace that was tangled. And we were standing close, but I absolutely would have remembered you trying to kiss me.’

He looks up at the ceiling and smiles, closing his eyes as if he’s asking for divine guidance. When he looks back at you he seems older, wiser, and more resolved.

‘No, I had my hand resting on your jaw and leaned in. Then you started talking incredibly fast about remembering to face center stage during my monologue and I took that as my queue you weren’t interested.’

‘Oh.’ You laugh to yourself. Has he honestly been just as into me for weeks and I didn’t see it? ‘I figured you were just being nice. You’re really interested in me?’

Once your initial confusion and surprise have passed you get back to the important point at hand. ‘But you live in LA and I live here. I’m older than you.’

Now that you’ve started talking it once again doesn’t feel like you can stop. ‘And I probably make more money, which bothers a lot of men. I’m a morning person and you’re a night owl. And-’

In one smooth motion he lifts his free hand to cup your face and kisses you, cutting you off. He swallows your noise of surprise and works his lips against yours in earnest, his thumb massaging the skin behind your ear.

After a beat your surprise fades and you melt into him. You’d forgotten how amazing kissing someone is when it’s for real and not on the stage.

Then again, you’ve been kissing him for weeks as Fanny Price and he tastes just as true and wonderful as he always does. The way his hand slides up to hold your thigh, however, is definitely not something he’d ever be able to do as Mr. Crawford.

You lean forward and fist a hand in the shirt at his chest, tugging him closer. He smiles into the kiss and you feel his rumble of laughter.

When he’s not being professional as an actor he certainly kisses like he means it. On stage the kisses are prim and proper. Five seconds, timed to perfection. Smudge-proof lip stain, for both of you.

But now that you’re alone he kisses like an earthquake, steady and powerful, decimating your doubt and asking entrance into your heart.

When you pull back, what feels like a second an an eternity later simultaneously, you’re both breathing heavily. He gives you another megawatt smile and you lift your finger to stroke down his neck, in awe of him and the fact that you missed, well, all of this.

‘Does that help your concerns?’ he asked, smug and pleased.

You laugh and kiss his cheek. ‘We’ve got a lot of practical details to sort out. But for now, yes, it does.’

He nods, seemingly unable to stop smiling. ‘Good. About time, too. I’ve been flirting with you for ages.’

‘Well, loverboy. Make good use of those flirting skills and get over here and kiss me some more.’

He laughs and reaches for his wallet, looking for the waitress. When he makes eye contact with her he turns back to you and winks. ‘Let’s go to my place. I want to kiss you in a way that’s far too inappropriate for how much you hate PDA.’

You shake your head in amusement at how well he knows you. ‘Deal.’

#DRABBLEPALOOZA #jongin x reader #kai x reader #jongin fanfic #kai fanfic #exo x reader #exo fanfic #jongin fluff #kai fluff #exo fluff

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fart-gate · 4 years

Text

SG1

Season 4 episode 8

"THE FIRST ONES"

Notes by me

- the thumbnail is a lizard man

- the BANDANA

- archeologist! Daniel

- "sg11, archeologist survey, P3X 888, dig site 5" is it bad i thought it was sexy when he did this

- I paused it on the fossil and it looks like it had wings???

- Cleo lol

- so the goaulds werent parasites a few million yrs ago. Good to know

- robert rothman is bossy as hell

- old goaulds did NOT have naquada in their dna

"Thats significant"

"How so?"

"I have no idea"

💖💖💖💖

- 🎵sometimes I feel like...somebodys WATCHIN MEEEE🎵

- omg Daniel one punch and your down. Need to have more combat training with tealc buddy

- Daniel gets kidnapped YET AGAIN

- rothman yelling for Daniel was nice actually

- an unas!!! From the viking episode

- hopefully this one doesnt sound like james earl jones

- sg1 said oh Daniel in trouble? I already have my boots on lets go

- P3X 888 is where the goaulds originated? Didnt we already try looking for a homeworld?

- I thought the unas growling was Daniel snoring for like a hot sec ok im tired leave me alone

- apparently nobody likes rothman and yeah i get it hes annoying

- tealc is lead on this one! Master tracker

- "rest!....it means.......rest"

- "grrrrr rest" the stargate programs professional linguist everyone

- love Daniel just talking to himself

- "yes! Very refreshing! ok im good for the next ten miles"

- his eyes are piercingly blue for my pleasure only

- forest sets are my favorite btw

- 2 moons thats so cool why doesnt earth have 2 moons we're missin out

- why does he have 2 phones???

- oh its a recorder

- daniel recording himself: this creature has dragged me around for hours and wants to eat me. But other wise we've become great pals < 3

- "juvanile" he got kidnapped by a teenager akdndjd

- im sorry his eyes are so distracting

- OKAY OKAY when it growls at him and he puts his head down to be submissive hhhhrrrrnnnngggggg

- SHE SPEAKS!

- daniel could make friends with a rat and it would show him all their rat friends and rat culture. I got away with that metaphor but you know what I mean. He could make friends with anything

- I just CANT get over how pretty he looks in this ep??? You thought I wouldnt keep talkin about it??? U were wrong

- this unas whole costume is so cool

- daniel: *tries to drink by dipping face in water*

Unas: what were you raised in a barn?? Use your hands idiot

- how is he swimming with his hands tied

- that goauld came at him like a torpedo

- ok! The unas said you get goauld guts all over your face for being an idiot

- ka means no

- well now hes gonna be wet forever (👀)

- is hawkins the leader of sg11?

- of course Jack sits RIGHT next to the goauld infested lake!!! Of course!!

- ah my favorite. Spit roasted parasite

- needs salt

- unas: this is my cave

Daniel: LOVE what youve done with the place

- hot potato with a goauld head ajdjs

- "yes yes all the kids are playing this these days OOPS in the fire!"

- at least he made him laugh

- why every time one culture shares food with earth its always chocolate?? Why not idk fuckin??? Pringles???

- oh its a cliff bar

- alright. He didnt have to sexually moan while eating a cliff bar BUT he sure did

- this unas is very curious

- "I met my father in law like this" OOF movie reference

- btw the guy that plays the unas?? Amazing 10/10

- ah shit hawkins has a GOUALD!!!!

- the unas have cave drawings ooooo

- daniel recording himself: me and the unas are besties now

Unas: *draws picture of him dragging Daniel to his doom*

Daniel : ......nevermind

- can tealc sense the goauld in the lake?

- when he shoots it out of the air. Invented sexy

- Sam can only sense the ones with naquada!!! This is really cool plot

- jaffa are unblendable. I wonder if the other guy that was immune had what jaffa have

- daniel about to kill him with a large rock and then his chaotic morals take charge again

- btw no glasses Daniel has been here for almost the whole ep

- "its been a hoot"

- WHEN HE PUTS HIS HEAD DOWN 👀👀👀👀👀👀

- "anybody with a snake in their heads, raise your hand!"

- see!?!?! Tealc with the plans im tellin ya

- rothman too damn.

- that guy pronouncing goauld like "goo-ahld" ????

- "this way" *points to a sign that says 'this way'

- hurry up!! Daniel about to get consumed by reptilians!!

- aw hes protecting him!

- Daniel speak Big Lizard Man language now

- "we've communicated, we're friends!"

- LIZARD BRAWL

- KING LIZARD BOY!!!

- "dan-yeeeell??" Oh no oh no I'm crying he wants to keep him

- "sha-ah-ka" he liked Daniel bc Daniel said the word for their moon god ok I get it now

- "whats that mean?"

"I have no idea....but I think ive just been invited to come back one day and find out" 💖😭 best friends with lizard people

Whump under the cut

Daniel jackson whump: knocked out,dragged, kidnapped, waking up,hands tied, out of breathe, collapsing, flinching, exausted, leg swiped, fell over onto back, cut on face, bloody cheek, fear, more flinching, noises!, almost sacrificed to lizard ppl

BONUS:

Jack and sam whump: hands tied, less than 10 min

🤓no glasses!Daniel for 99% of episode!

🎶listening to Youve Got A Friend In Me by Randy Newman🎶 bc Daniel and the Unas are besties and I think im funny

#stargate season 4 #no glasses!daniel #daniel whump season 4

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highlyspecificsigns · 5 years

Text

the signs as bad sex in fiction award nominees

from the annual contest run by the Literary Review -- technically 2018′s nominees came (fine, pun intended) yesterday, but that’s a Friday and for obvious reasons this is NSFW.

ARIES: Giles Coren, Winkler, 2005: “And he came hard in her mouth and his dick jumped around and rattled on her teeth and he blacked out and she took his dick out of her mouth and lifted herself from his face and whipped the pillow away and he gasped and glugged at the air, and he came again so hard that his dick wrenched out of her hand and a shot of it hit him straight in the eye and stung like nothing he’d ever had in there, and he yelled with the pain, but the yell could have been anything, and as she grabbed at his dick, which was leaping around like a shower dropped in an empty bath, she scratched his back deeply with the nails of both hands and he shot three more times, in thick stripes on her chest. Like Zorro.”

TAURUS: Jonathan Grimwood, The Last Banquet, 2013: “Reaching behind me, I found the Brie and broke off a fragment, sucking her nipple through it. She tasted almost as she had the day I took the drop of milk on my finger.

Manon smiled when she realised what I was doing.

You know the peasant saying? If you can't imagine how neighbouring vineyards can produce such different wines put one finger in your woman's quim and another up her arse, then taste both and stop asking stupid questions… My fingers found both vineyards. At the front, she tasted salt as anchovy and as delicious. At the rear, bitter like chocolate and smelling strangely of tobacco.”

GEMINI: Tarun J Tejpal, The Alchemy of Desire, 2005: “We began to climb peaks and fall off them. We did old things in new ways. And new things in old ways. At times like these we were the work of surrealist masters. Any body part could be joined to any body part. And it would result in a masterpiece. Toe and tongue. Nipple and penis. Finger and the bud. Armpit and mouth. Nose and clitoris. Clavicle and gluteus maximus. Mons venera and phallus indica.

The Last Tango of Labia Minora. Circa 1987.”

CANCER: Christopher Rush, Will, 2007: “O glorious pubes! The ultimate triangle, whose angles delve to hell but point to paradise. Let me sing the black banner, the blackbird's wing, the chink, the cleft, the keyhole in the door. The fig, the fanny, the cranny, the quim - I'd come close to it now, this sudden blush, this ancient avenue, the end of all odysseys and epic aim of life, pulling at my prick now, pulling like a lodestone. ...

All around us nature joined in ... Streamers of heat lashed my back and shoulders and far beneath me now the body of Anne Hathaway began to rage and founder in the rising foam as I clung like a mariner to her heaving haunches, the deep keel of her backbone dipping and lifting through July, through the green surge of growth, till at last the moment came when some colossal wave flung her up high, and I held on for my life, and she screamed loud and long Then O! then O! then O! my true love said and I felt death go through her. Our vessel ran shuddering onto the rocks, a wave of wetness ran through us, the air was rent with screams and I became aware that the bank on which we lay drenched and grounded was journey's end, love's end, the very sea-mark of our utmost sail..”

LEO: James Frey, Katerina, 2018: “Cum inside me. Cum inside me. Cum inside me. Blinding breathless shaking overwhelming exploding white God I cum inside her my cock throbbing we’re both moaning eyes hearts souls bodies one.

One.

White.

God.

Cum.

Cum.”

VIRGO: Matthew Reynolds, The World Was All Before Them, 2013: “In the dappled shadows the bodies cling and thrust and arc and stretch. Toes splay. Arms prop shoulders from which a torso slopes. Two legs spring into the air. A head flaps from side to side. Fingers tense, hips grip and ankles twine. Forehead bows to forehead and hair touches in the air as eyes look longingly into eyes, thighs vie, lip lips lip and… But, damn, dammit! – what was this? Anxiously he began to get the impression that his vas deferens was initiating its rhythmic squeezing too soon, too soon … But phew she too seemed to be surfing the waves of neuromuscular euphoria, so that as, sweating, panting, he bowed his forehead to her chest, she gripped him tight, her sharp nails stabbing; and then they were grinning and kissing each other's noses, cheeks; and then they lay entangled for a moment, breathing; and then they rose, one after another, went for a piss, came back and settled into bed again.“

LIBRA: Joshua Cohen, Numbers, 2015: “Her mouth was intensely ovoid, an almond mouth, of citrus crescents. And under that sling, her breasts were like young fawns, sheep frolicking in hyssop – Psalms were about to pour out of me.

“Vous?”

“Josh,” I said.

“Vous habillé.”

“Je vais me undressed, clothes off, unhabillé, déshab.”

SCORPIO: Major Victor Cornwall and Major Arthur St John Trevelyan, Scoundrels: The Hunt for Hansclapp, 2018: “Empty my tanks,” I’d begged breathlessly, as once more she began drawing me deep inside her pleasure cave. Her vaginal ratchet moved in concertina-like waves, slowly chugging my organ as a boa constrictor swallows its prey. Soon I was locked in, balls deep, ready to be ground down by the enamelled pepper mill within her.”

SAGITTARIUS: David Mitchell, Black Swan Green, 2006: “Now her grubby soles met like they were praying. Now his skin was glazed in roast pork sweat. Now she made a noise like a tortured Moomintroll. Now Tom Yew's body jerkjerked judderily jackknifed and a noise like a ripping cable tore out of him. Once more, like he'd been booted in the balls. Her fingernails'd sunk salmony welts into his arse. Debby Crombie's mouth made a perfect O.”

CAPRICORN: David Guterson, Ed King, 2011: “In the shower, Ed stood with his hands at the back of his head, like someone just arrested, while she abused him with a bar of soap. After a while he shut his eyes, and Diane, wielding her fingernails now and starting at his face, helped him out with two practiced hands, one squeezing the family jewels, the other vigorous with the soap-and-warm-water treatment. It didn’t take long for the beautiful and perfect Ed King to ejaculate for the fifth time in twelve hours, while looking like Roman public-bath statuary. Then they rinsed, dried, dressed, and went to an expensive restaurant for lunch .”

AQUARIUS: Morrissey, List of the Lost, 2015: “At this, Eliza and Ezra rolled together into the one giggling snowball of full-figured copulation, screaming and shouting as they playfully bit and pulled at each other in a dangerous and clamorous rollercoaster coil of sexually violent rotation with Eliza’s breasts barrel-rolled across Ezra’s howling mouth and the pained frenzy of his bulbous salutation extenuating his excitement as it whacked and smacked its way into every muscle of Eliza’s body except for the otherwise central zone.”

PISCES: Sam Mills, The Quiddity of Will Self, 2012: “ … oh, yes, oh, yes, oh, Will, oh, yes, oh, semen-bedizened blood-pusillanimous bed onanistic quiddity fulcrating pelvic thrusts smoke thick typewriter’s click-clack-click Will Our Cock is Spent screaming loving Will is pleased Will is Saved I have done it I have done I am the Chosen One I am his Chosen One oh Will for ever I am yours for ever I am yours for ever I am.”

#bad sex in fiction #literature #the signs #the signs as #signs #zodiac #astrology #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces

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buckychristwrites · 6 years

Photo

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: “Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.” - F. Scott Fitzgerald

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Slight angst, but mainly fluff

A/N: The next part to my entry for @officialfalcon‘s 1.5k celebration! Let me know what you think :)

Masterlist | Tags List Form

| Zero | One | Two | Three |

Year Three

The smell of the hospital gave you a headache. It always did.

The two hot chocolates in your hand were warm against your palms as you walked down the hallway. Occasionally, you’d see a familiar nurse or doctor and greet them with a smile and a head nod. The first time you walked these halls, everything seemed long and scary, the beeping machines echoing in your ears along with every cough and moan, the narrow path feeling like it was dense with people . But now you navigated like a pro, and it seemed to only take a few minutes, whereas before it felt like hours.

Using your elbow, you let yourself into the hospital room. Bucky was lying in bed, staring at the TV with boredom in his eyes.

“Alright, your holy one,” You said sarcastically, taking a seat in the chair you had pulled up next to his bed. “A salted caramel hot chocolate with exactly five marshmallows because even when you’re not there, you could sense me getting weird looks at the coffee shop and got pleasure in it.” Despite your attempt to get a laugh, all you received was a half hearted smile as Bucky took his hot chocolate from your hands, not making eye contact. You stared at his left shoulder, all wrapped in gauze. He had gotten burned at work. It rarely happened, and it was still unclear how exactly it had occurred, but it was a nasty one. You could still hear Steve’s frantic voice on the phone when he called, telling you there had been an accident.

You tilted your head as you watched him. “Did you get your meds today?” He nodded in response, eyes still planted on the TV. This is how he had been, recluse and closed off, since the incident. Not only was it the exact opposite of how he was usually, but it was also just hard on you.

“Peggy’s called for updates six times now, but I know she’s doing it because Steve asked her to,” You began rambling to him, trying to fill the quiet air. “Sam called four times. Each time he tries to talk about the new girl he’s seeing, but he always casually asks how you’re doing. Tony’s only called twice but he texts me a lot. Natasha has only called one time, and she didn’t even ask for an update, but I gave her one anyway. And Clint sent me a text.” He didn’t say anything for a while, until he rolled his head to look at you.

“Is Sam still seeing the girl he met in the spring?” He asked. “Sierra? That’s her name, right?” You nodded, taking a sip of your hot chocolate. It was somehow still scorching hot, and you almost spit the tiny sip out of your mouth.

“You met her at the Halloween party, remember?” You asked. He looked up at the ceiling with a blank look for a few moments until the light bulb came on and he nodded. “He seems really smitten with her, I think they’re going to be together for a bit.” You took a pause, smiling. “And I just like her a lot so I’m a bit bias when I say I want them to last.” He fell silent again, only giving you another single nod. You felt your heart collapse into your chest. “Alright, this has gotta stop.” Confusion filled his demeanor as he looked over at you again. A heavy sigh left your lungs.

“I know you’re upset and in pain but you can’t shut me out like this,” You told him, in a pleading voice. “You’re being let out of here in a few days and they said you should fully recover with little scarring. And you can return to work in a few weeks.” He looked so sad, taking your hand and holding it between both of us. Part of you felt relieved, since he did this when he was feeling apologetic.

“I’m sorry,” He mumbled, playing with your fingers. “The pain meds I’m on just make me so tired and out of it.” You nodded understandingly. He turned his head, staring out the window. “What’s it like outside? I feel like I’ve been stuck in here forever.” He turned toward you, a playful pout on his lips. Although it was very cute, that didn’t stop you from rolling your eyes at him.

“It’s cold out, it’s supposed to rain later,” You informed him. “I was thinking about going home and ordering pizza. Or I might invite your mom over to make me dinner, she’s been worried that I’m not eating enough.” There was no annoyance in your voice, only fondness for his mother, who you had grown to love since meeting her the year prior. Bucky, however, didn’t seem to love this idea by the way he groaned.

“You should order pizza and have it here,” He urged. “We can watch movies together.” When you didn’t answer right away, he began to pout once more, but this time, there was genuine sadness in his eyes. “Please? I hate it when I’m here without you.” Not alone. Not surrounded by doctors. He hated it when he was there with you in particular, and you didn’t fail to notice that distinction.

“Fine,” You caved, dropping your head to your shoulder as if this was a huge inconvenience to you. “What movies do you want to watch?” His head tilted back and forth, left to right, as he thought over his options. After a while, he shrugged.

“I don’t even care,” He admitted. “Bring those stupid rom-coms you make me watch. I’m just tired of spending time in this room by myself. I know you’ve been working but I just miss you. All the time. And I’m tired of being hurt.” Your hand held his forearm, your thumb stroking the skin.

“Yeah, this is what, the third time you’ve hurt this shoulder?” You asked, trying to recall the exact number. “First you fell off that latter in March, and then you fell down the stairs when you were drunk over the summer and now this?” It was hard not to start laughing, because in a way, it was pretty comical. “If you’re not careful, this arm is going to fall off.” He laughed along with you, shaking his head.

“Yeah but falling on it didn’t fuck up my tattoos like this did,” He said sadly. “The doctor said they’re probably not going to be the same, and with the scar tissue, I won’t be able to have them fixed.” He sighed, but you shook your head.

“I’d rather you have fucked up tattoos and still be alive,” You said, slightly defensive. “I know you love them, but I’m just glad it wasn’t worse.” The two of you stared at each other, Bucky’s face filled with guilt and fondness at the same time. Finally, he inhaled sharply.

“I’m so lucky to have you,” He breathed out, squeezing your hand that he was still holding. You chuckled.

“Yeah, you are,” You said in a teasing voice. “Who else is going to bring your stupid ass a hot chocolate with five marshmallows when you’re in the hospital? Not Steve or Sam, that’s for damn sure.”

____________________

Tags

ALL THE THINGS

@pizzarollpatrol, @of-outerspace, @fallenaristocat, @gracefulish, @jamesbvck, @buckysbeech, @dontpanc, @lovinglokiforever, @kingsebstan, @kaaatniss, @meg-holland, @rvmanova, @fracturedmotivationwriting, @daringbanshee, @wantyoubackpeter, @parkerstan, @jnej, @rogrsnbarnes, @starlightfound, @loislp, @connorshero, @fanadict-cumberbatch, @for-laufeyson-without-question, @humanexile, @slytherin-in-hufflepuff-robes, @thepandadrawer, @wintrsoldiers, @spideyspirit, @c-ly-g

BUCKY

@bucky-slut, @stanclub, @tirzahwrites, @whitewolfbabylon, @drunkonpinklemonade, @littlemissexistential-xxiv, @rnjolnirs, @crazyinspiration, @buckybarneshairpullingkink, @the-right-partner13, @rebelfleur22, @valkyriesbi, @jitterbuck

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes drabble #bucky drabble #marvel #avengers #marvel imagine #avengers imagine #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #mcuwriting #bb

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paleorecipecookbook · 5 years

Text

What To Do & Where To Eat in Santa Barbara

It’s been a hot minute since I traveled to California, which is really a shame since it’s a quick direct flight for me and it immediately feels like I’m in some far away vacation land. Well, that’s pretty much exactly what it is. Especially Santa Barbara. I hadn’t spent much time in Santa Barbara before this trip and now I’m wondering why it hasn’t been a normal yearly occurrence for me. This sleepy little ocean town has become a bustling area to try amazing food, sip on about a million glasses of wine, and take in the sea breeze as you dip your toes in the water. It’s just simply lovely.

And one of the best parts about being in Santa Barbara is that you can make your way into Santa Ynez Valley. I went to Santa Ynez Valley last year and absolutely fell in love with the area and this time around it was even more beautiful because of all the rain they have been getting recently. The rolling hills of the valley were so incredibly green and everywhere you turn there is another beautiful vineyard. It really is a breathtaking area. And since I didn’t check out the tiny town of Los Alamos when I was in SYV the year before, we decided to stay at the newly renovated Skyview Motel. You can see this iconic roadside motel from the highway and from downtown Los Alamos since it’s perched on a hillside overlooking wine country. And the motel itself includes a beautiful restauant, pool and the cutest rooms – many that include their own patio with personal firepit. I was welcomed by a cute cat each morning who loved our patio furniture as it’s bed. Since it wasn’t warm enough to hang out by the pool while we were there, we enjoyed some cocktails at the restaurant before making our way into town to try even more wine!

When you are in Los Alamos, you have a full block of restaurants, bakeries and tasting rooms to check out, so you can rent a bike from the Skyview Motel and bike into town for a buzzed and full afternoon. We first stopped in at Casa Dumetz for a wine tasting, a really really delicious wine tasting. I’m not huge in to wine or really even know what I like, but I know I enjoyed every single one of these wines. Casa Dumetz makes highly acclaimed reds and whites with premiere fruit grown exclusively in Santa Barbara County vineyards and the wine tasting room shows how much love goes into each one of these bottles.

And after you try the wine tasting, you can wander next door to Valle Fresh to enjoy some tacos and tapas while you check out all the beers and ciders in Babi’s Beer Emporium. All three spots are owned by chief winemaker Sonja Magdevski to ensure that everyone in your group is happy and satisfied. We ordered a carrot appetizer to get in some extra veggies on our trip, then we loaded up with delicious tacos. It was incredibly easy to eat gluten free here since all the taco shells are made in-house with corn. Everything was so fresh and delicious! We really loved this spot.

Then for our first dinner in Santa Ynez Valley, we made our way to Solvang (where I stayed last time) to the restaurant First & Oak. This restaurant is located inside the Mirabelle Inn and is considered one of the best spots in Santa Ynez Valley since it includes some of the most fresh local ingredients. First & Oak includes many small plates so you can try a ton of different things on their menu, and they recommend creating your own tasting menu to ensure you get the full experience. We ended up both trying a four-course tasting menu and I think three would have been a better idea because we were STUFFED. So so stuffed. I tried the lobster bisque, halibut, pork risotto and white chocolate meringue. Everything was fantastic and the server was so helpful making sure everything we ordered was gluten free! And if you are wine tasting during the day, the owners of First & Oak also own Coquelicot Estate Vineyard in Los Olivos, which is just a quick drive away from Solvang.

Another meal we had in Los Alamos while we stayed there was at Pico at the Los Alamos General Store. This restaurant is a beautiful spot that serves farm-to-table upscale comfort food. The restaurant also shares their building with local Lumen Wines where you can try all their wines in their tasting room. We tried the mushroom salad, brussels sprouts and short rib, and everything was so fresh and served up beautifully.

And before we left, we ended up eating at Plenty on Bell a couple of times for breakfast! We loved this spot and everything we tasted was cooked to perfection. I ordered the short rib hash and the short ribs and potatoes were both crispy on the outside and soft on the inside. Many people also recommended Bob’s Well Bread Bakery but I didn’t see too many gluten free options on the menu so we stuck with Plenty instead. But if you don’t eat gluten free, I heard Bob’s is fantastic!

Then once we had our fill of the countryside, we made our way back to Santa Barbara to see all it has to offer. We were lucky enough to stay at the Ritz-Carlton Bacara and soak up this absolutely stunning property. This was my first time staying at a Ritz-Carlton resort and it completely lived up to its name. Not only was the staff incredibly attentive and helpful at every turn, but the property itself was perfection. There was always something to do, something to see, and some sort of drink to indulge in. The oceanfront property includes 2 miles of beach to walk on, a nature walk to take your dogs on (yes, it’s dog-friendly!), and they have beautiful pools, hot tubs, and fun games like bag toss and ladders throughout every corner. We spent almost an entire day on the property just having cocktails and playing games. There was really no point in leaving!

Two things I can’t recommend enough is eating at Angel Oak for Sunday brunch AND checking out the Club Lounge on the property. While we ate at Angel Oak for brunch, we were able to sit on the patio overlooking the ocean while professional whale watchers looked on for any signs of whales swimming by. We sadly didn’t get to see any whales ourselves but many people talked about the whales they had seen earlier. I ordered the cobb crab salad when we ate here and it was AMAZING! I hate salads but I ate every bite of this one.

But if you don’t get to see any whales, not to worry, the Club Lounge will keep you happy and entertained. The Club Lounge is very exclusive since they only let about 30-35 rooms enjoy the services that the Club has to offer. In the Club, you’ll have a personal concierge to help you with anything you need whether you need a glass of wine or champagne or a house-made latte. Then you also have a ton of amazing snacks to choose from, including gluten free snacks and treats. I spent so much time in this lounge working on my computer, enjoying breakfast, and getting some snacks to take on the go. It was such an amazing spot to relax and unwind while catching up on work. I loved it so so much!

Then for our first dinner in Santa Barbara, we headed to Les Marchands Restaurant and Wine Shop. This spot was named “Wine Bar of the Year since it is led by a world-class team of certified sommeliers and wine profressionals. You’ll also find more than 400 selections of wine at this spot. So if you’re a wine lover, this is definitely your spot! I found it a tad more challenging to find gluten free items here since many of their entrees are pasta or include wheat, but we still enjoyed a fantastic waygu steak while we were there!

Then for our last full day in Santa Barbara, we finally took a break from all the wine and got to moving. We wandered around Stearns Wharf & Harbor to see all the shops, then we walked down by the ocean, then finally made our way to state street and into Salt. In downtown you would never know that you can find the largest Himalayan salt cave in North America. I always see people with Himalayan salt lamps next to their bed and I never really knew why, but I found out in my own salt session that Himalayan salt has a ton of different benefits like supporting respiratory health, promoting sinus health, preventing muscle cramps, and promotes bone strength, along with a ton of other benefits. And while you’re in the Salt Cave, you can simply enjoy a 45-minute meditation session or you can always book a treatment such as a massage, scrub or a Nexneuro vibration treatment. It’s all very earthy and crunchy, and I love it. It was a great way to break up the day and do something a little different.

Then after we meditated, we went straight to Tyger Tyger. Curry is a dish I could eat for every single meal and I talk about it quite frequently. So when my friend found out I was heading to SB, she said I absolutely HAD to eat at Tyger Tyger and order the pork curry. And HOT DAMN I’m so glad I listened to her because it was lifechanging curry. Not just good or great or amazing. It was LIFECHANGING. We also tried the Malayasian Curried Cauliflower and I almost licked my plate. I couldn’t get enough of this spot. Everything on their menu is marked gluten free and/or vegan, which makes it extremely easy to order. And it’s so unique compared any other spots because within the location, you’ll also find Dart Coffee and Monkey Shine ice cream. And the ice cream has an Asian flair to eat because you’ll find selections like Black Sesame and Mango Sticky Rice soft serve with fruity and crunchy toppings to sprinkle all over.

And for my last meal in Santa Barbara, my friend took me to LoQuita to enjoy some traditional cooking methods of Spain. I’ve never been to Spain but now it’s at the top of my list after experiencing LoQuita. This meal was absolutely fantastic, I can’t say enough about it. Everything was so incredibly fresh and flavorful. Like OMG flavorful. We enjoyed the Jamón tasting, the oyster mushrooms, cauliflower, spanish tortilla, and FANTASTIC chorizo paella. If you are ever in Santa Barbara, this spot is a complete must!!

I hope this post gives you some inspiration to create your own Santa Barbara trip in the future! I can’t say enough about Santa Barbara and Santa Ynez Valley. They are both amazing places to visit that aren’t overwhelmed by traffic and people. It’s just a great place to get away, relax and enjoy all that California has to offer. And now I’m already planning my next trip back so I can check out even more restaurants when I’m there! Be sure to read below because I have even more recommendations for when you are there!

Quick Summary of my SYV & SB Trip Favorites:

Hotels

Skyview Motel

Ritz-Carlton Bacara

Restaurants

Valle Fresh in Los Alamos

First & Oak in Solvang

Pico at the Los Alamos General Store in Los Alamos

Plenty on Bell in Los Alamos

Angel Oak at the Ritz-Carlton

Les Marchands Restaurant and Wine Shop in Santa Barbara

Tyger Tyger in Santa Barbara

LoQuita in Santa Barbara

And if you’re staying for more than just a few days, here are even more restaurant recommendations –

Lilac Patisserie

ParadICE Hawaiian Shave Ice

The Lark

The Lucky Penny for gluten free pizza

The Honey B

Santa Barbara Public Market

Ty Lounge at Four Seasons Resort in Montecito – official drink of Santa Barbara

And there are also about a million things to do while you’re in Santa Barbara –

Go to Stearns Wharf & Harbor

Check out The Funk Zone – one of the cutest areas in Santa Barbara with lots of shops, restaurants and wine tasting rooms. It reminds me of RiNo in Denver because it’s filled with old warehouses and manufacturing plants with a ton of artists’ studios and galleries, breweries and other shops. It’s a total different feel from everything else you find in Santa Barbara

Go on the Urban Wine Trail – more than 2 dozen wine tasting rooms all within blocks of downtown, which means you don’t have to drive into the valley and you can ditch your car and walk to almost any of them without worrying about how you will get home once you enjoy a few too many tastings. Here are just some of the tasting rooms you can check out –

Kunin Wines

Santa Barbara Wine Collective

The Valley Project

Riverbench Santa Barbara

Wineries of the Presidio Neighborhood

Go to the Farmers Market! It’s held almost every day in a different spot so you can always get the freshest ingredients, no matter what day it is.

Check out Santa Barbara Botanic Garden

Take a City Tour of Santa Barbara on the SB Trolley

Rent a bike, roller blades, coupe, or a surrey with Wheel Fun Rentals to easily get around town

Go kayaking and stand-up paddleboarding with Paddle Sports Center

Go hiking nearby

Carpinteria Bluffs

Inspiration Point

Arroyo Burro Beach to Goleta

Lizard’s Mouth

Refugio to El Capitan

Bill Wallace Trail

Gaviota Peak

Gaviota Wind Caves

Go to Montecito for some fancy shopping

Wander down State Street for cool stores and shops

This trip was hosted by Visit Santa Ynez Valley and Visit Santa Barbara, but all opinions are my own!

The post What To Do & Where To Eat in Santa Barbara appeared first on PaleOMG - Paleo Recipes.

Sourse of this article: http://paleomg.com/

#paleo #recipe #paleo diet #food #yum #healthy #delicious

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stillpartofthisworld · 7 years

Text

Don’t Let Go-TAZ

Guess who wrote a Blupjeans fic in the first week of school???? Haha I’m so failing

Yes of course it’s on ao3

Plz pray that I will be able to writee more than 2k words before burnout

Fic under the cut

It was two forty seven AM when Lup got her body back. She was used to staring at her imperfect form through the long hours of the night, inspecting it from all sides to see why, exactly, she wasn't able to inhabit it yet. A missing bone here. A patch of flesh there. She watches her body, night after night after night, sewing itself back together from a mere kiss. She is still perplexed by the intricacy of both the magic and machinery that must have went into the construction of this thing. When she finally had a body, she thinks, she would break it down and figure out how it ticked. (Around 3 months later, she gets a strongly worded letter from the Raven Queen, telling her that no, she could not figure out how this machine worked and replicate it because it went against the laws of life and death, which was everything she stood for. Also, a century's pay would be cut.)

But for now, she busies herself by staring, if not at herself then at Barry, asleep on the bed that Magnus had made them (even though only one of them could actually use it). The cottage they had picked out for themselves was small and manageable, considering the fact that they were in Barry's old cave most of the time, finishing up projects and getting ready to move into one of Lucas Miller's labs that wasn't a form of aerial transportation (they were both, at the end of the day, still huge nerds.). After that...well, they were reapers, baby; it would probably be time to take the job more seriously. As of now, she was torn between looking at both herself and the love of her many lives, who was quietly snoring as he lay face up, sprawled on the bed (He used to sleep on his side, one arm draped around a shoulder she didn't have anymore, sometimes a leg pushed in between her own, wait, she didn't have legs anymore, wait) Barry's body has grown thinner while she was away, worry and work having sculpted him into a rather muscular man, something that she persists to tease him about ("My nerd does even lift!" "Shut up, Lup, please."). Since he sleeps shirtless most of the time, she's able to see his abs rising and falling with each breath. She wishes she could run her hands along them, watching the way his breath hitched and his muscles tightened as he stares at her in embarrassment and pleasure. She wishes but the only thing she can do now is wrap her robe around him, telling him that she's still here as he grips her robe, trying to breathe in her very essence as a substitute for her hands, her lips, her body- She feels a tug in her soul. She spins to see that there's a flashing green light on the console next to the pod, and she doesn't need to get closer to read the script under it to know was this means. She floats over, the hood of her robe level with her own head, and she pushes a bit of herself through the glass, testing to see if she's actually able to get in, to have a body again, finally-

She sees a bit of shadow, a hint of magic permeate through the glass and float up to her partly opened mouth, which twitches. It occurs to her that she should probably wake up Barry but she's too excited, too impatient, too Lup to actually think of anything else but crashing through the glass, surrounding her body in magic and mist before feeling her soul constrict and her senses collapse, then expand as she fills this body, this vessel this Lup, and she, for the first time in twelve years, at two forty seven AM, takes a breath. Which is a bit hard to do when you're surrounded by green liquid. She grabs onto the edge of the open-topped pod and pulls herself up, feeling the sensation of muscle and bone working in harmony, of liquid splashing and sliding against her skin and as she perches on top of the pod, staring at the ground seven feet below. She nearly loses her balance because she can actually see, not sense but see with actual eyes and hands and body and for a second it's all too much. She closes her eyes and breathes in, out, in, out, focusing on her lungs expanding, her heart pumping at a regular pace until it trips up because she hears someone call her name. "Lup?" Barry has woken up, and is now reaching for his glasses as he struggles to see what looks to him to be a coloured blob on top of the pod. "Barry," Lup leans forward at the sight of him, she can finally see him and he looks beautiful-"Babe, I'm...!" She lets out a yelp as she slips from her perch and crashes to the ground, landing on top of her robe which does nothing to cushion the jarring pain that traveled up her spine (even this part she enjoys, because pain means that you're alive and she's alive, well and truly alive but ow-).

"Oh shit, Lup!" Barry's at her side in an instant, crouching down and inspecting her for damage, his human eyes squinting and struggling to see in the dim light. “I'm fine, I'm fine,” Lup winces but laughs all the same, feeling the hearty rumble of it starting in her chest and shaking it's way out of her in a fit of wonder and joy. He looks up at this, and she turns to look at him and they both freeze, staring at each other as if meeting for the first time; the same way they looked at each other on the Starblaster, on the planet of the robots, in the Legato conservatory so, so many lives ago. She sees herself in his eyes, hair cascading down her back and covering part of her small face, her upturned eyes, her pointed nose, her small mouth that parted slightly every single time she looked at him just as it was now, and it's all she can do to say "Damn, I forgot how good I looked." Barry blinks, and a small smirk appears on her lips as she says "I'm about to smooch your heart out, babe." There's a small pause between them, these two people who have been together for a century because for a minute, they forget how it was to actually touch each other, to hold and grasp and kiss because it's been twelve years since both of them were corporeal and together. Even now, crouching beside each other in the dim light of the cottage they're apart, his knees are just barely brushing her thigh, her shoulder just missing his own. And so there's a pause. But then Barry cups his hands on either side of her face and Lup automatically moves her own to his wrists, and they lock eyes. Barry looks at her with questioningly, asking her, always asking her May I? and her answer is always Yes, please, yes. He bends down, and she closes her eyes as she feels his lips brush the top of her forehead, the sides of her eyes, her nose, just relishing in the sensation of skin on skin. She concentrates, and soon she feels the light swipe of his lips barely touching her own, his own mouth parting in the realization that he was kissing her, actually kissing her, for the first time in twelve years. The swipe becomes a firm press, and now her arms are around his neck and his arms have moved to circle her hips and legs as he stands, carrying her small body. She sighs and leans against him, deepening the kiss, and for a minute she forgets that she's naked until the back of her knees are hooked around his forearm but that just makes the sensations all the more real, so much more realer than all the times he tried to hold her in her Lich form. They don't let go of each other even as he sets her down on the bed, climbing in with her and throwing the duvet over their heads. She can still see in the darkness, but chooses to close her eyes as their lips meet again, feeling tongue on tongue and teeth on lips. She can taste (finally, she can taste) the chamomile in the tea he had an hour ago, the chocolate he had hidden away for midnight snacks and all she think about is him, him kissing every part of her face and whispering her name like a prayer. And her hands wander down his body, touching his neck, his chest, faltering at the quickstep she feels when her palm lies over his heart. And her hands continue, nails raking across his abdomen. His response is just as she dreamed, and he pulls away from her just as his breath hitches and his muscles tighten. She can feel his eyes on her, even though he can't actually see as he says "I love you,", and even though he's said that a thousand times a day for the past year it's somehow so much more meaningful now, right here, under the duvet of the bed Magnus made them because she can feel his heart pounding madly in his chest, keeping time with her own heart (oh, yes, she has a heart now-). She opens her mouth, feels the vibration of her vocal cords as she says "I love you too," and pulls him in for another kiss, tangling her hands in his hair, leaning into his arms as they trace circles on her waist. She feels his mouth stretch into a smile under her own, and as she moves closer to nuzzle his neck when she feels something wet brush against her cheek. She pulls away and brings up a hand to swipe her cheek, raising her fingers to her tongue. Salt.

“Barry?”

A muffled sob escapes her lover, and her hands find his face and his hand which he is using to cover his mouth. “Barold, what's wrong?” She feels the first stab of fear enter her body, a feeling that she was well acquainted with. It pierces her heart and mind, but she chooses to ignore her thoughts and focus on Barry, Barry who has always been by her side who is now crying even though she's back so she asks again.

Barry lets out a huge sigh before answering. “Nothing, it's just...Lup, I missed you so much.” She murmurs something positive and he shakes his head slightly. “No, no, I know you missed me too but, Lup, every time I would get my body back, I would forget all about you. I’d forget and, even though it wasn't as bad as Taako, I...I’d lose a part of myself every time. And it was horrible.” She wants to tell him to stop, that she understood and that it was hell for her too, trapped in that small chamber but he keeps going and she keeps listening, caressing his cheek and his hair as he breathes. “I was always alone, always just following the instructions that I gave myself and it always felt like I was missing something or someone and, and it was just lonely, God, I was so lonely!” He chokes back a sob and her arms go around his neck again and he pulls her towards him, pressing her against him as if she could protect him from the past, from memories that couldn't be erased. He continues. “And even when I was a Lich, I couldn't find you, you don't know how hard I looked for you, I thought that something had happened and you couldn't become a Lich when I saw Taako with your staff and I nearly lost control-”

She remembers that part, seeing Barry beginning to spark and twitch and unravel at the very seams when he saw her staff but not her in it. She remembers stretching herself out, throwing everything she had at the dark curtains that kept her from everyone, that kept her from him even as he screamed and raged and unwound right in front of her and she remembers the fear, that bone chilling fear that he was going to leave her alone, the aching loneliness that came after he had calmed down and disappeared.

She feels a pain in her chest. At first, she's confused-there was no wound there. And then the pain travels to her throat and a ragged sound rips out of her, and it's only after Barry’s thumbs wipe her face that she understands that she's crying. She lets the tears fall and she tells him about being in the umbrastaff, the anger and fear and anxiety she felt while trapped in that hell of a chamber for a complete decade. She tells him how she kept sane by remembering him and Taako but mostly him, about the relief and concern she felt when she saw him in Lich form and her pure frustration at the fact that she couldn’t touch him or anyone else for the past year, and that she loved him, she loved him, she loved him. She tells him this and more as she cries and he comforts her, running his hands through her hair and down her back, whispering nothings and catching her tears with his lips, telling her that he loved her, he loved her, he loved her and they stay like that for a while as she composes herself, pulling back again and opening her eyes to look at his tearstained face with Darkvision.

She takes a breath, now all cried out and heaves a breathy laugh. “Dammit, Bluejeans…” her voice sounds hoarse and full of emotions that she was barely capable of processing a few minutes ago. “It’s literally been five minutes and we’re both crying.”

Barry laughs at this too, even though his voice was just as worse for wear as her own. “Aw, babe, did you miss me?” He teases and she sniffs, flicking his nose before kissing it. “Of course.” He wraps his arms around her waist and kisses her forehead, placing his chin on her head. She sighs and leans back into him, her ear resting right on top of his beating heart.

There are some jags of crying, comforting and kissing, but for the most part they lay there, caught between sleep and wakefulness as they hold each other close, hand in hand.

And they don’t let go.

Constructive criticisms is much much much appreciated!! I’m a science nerd I don’t take writing classes

#did I make myself cry? yes #things I wholeheartedly believe #blupjeans #blupjeans fic #ao3 #The Adventure Zone #taz fic #the adventure zone fic #the adventure zone fanfic #lup #lup taaco #lup loop #barry bluejeans #barry bluejeans and lup #blupjeans fluff

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punmasterkentparson · 7 years

Text

Soft

It starts with a bar of soap.

For God’s sake, Kent thinks to himself in the “personal care” section of the grocery store. Why does Dove think I’m allergic to purple just because I’m a guy?

He picks up the lavender-scented bar soap and inhales. It smells heavenly. Next he tries the sandalwood-scented from the men’s section. It comes in a gray box and costs fifty cents less. It smells good but it reminds him of floor polish.

I’m a grown-ass man, Kent thinks, and buys the lavender soap.

The next time he’s out of body wash, he spends thirty minutes trying to decide on one of the many “manly” smells before caving to “Cocoa Cabana” in the women’s aisle because it smells like Valentines Day in a bottle.

After that it’s his deodorant body spray, trading in “Bold” (whatever the fuck boldness smells like) for “Fresh Cotton.”

The first time Jeff catches a whiff of it on him, he asks, “New fabric softener? It smells awesome.”

“Nah, switched deodorants.”

“Huh.” Jeff nods in approval. “Well, you smell like fresh blankets out of the dryer. I have a physical urge to hug you.”

Kent laughs. Jeff hugs him and he laughs more. It’s nice.

After five months, nearly every toiletry Kent owns has been switched over from an endless variety of blacks, grays, and occasional dark greens and blues to white, purple, soft brown, yellow, and pink. Showers have transformed from a perfunctory necessity to something luxurious. Women’s products are so indulgent. They make Kent feel and smell like he’s been at a spa. He does have to learn to juggle the fragrances appropriately or risk smelling like a perfume store vomited on him. But it’s worth it, for how good he feels after. He feels pampered. His skin is softer, his hair shines, and even his pits and crotch look and feel cleaner. He doesn’t know if it’s the products or because he really cares about the maintenance, now, since he’s got all these specialty items to try. It doesn’t matter. He feels great.

Kent now has honest-to-God bubble baths and detox-salt-soaks. He’s got body butters and face masks and a lip balm in almost every flavor. The ladies at the Lush at the mall know him by name.

Kent’s still single. He’s got his cat for company, though, and the guys, who drop by or come over for movie and game nights and get drunk and eat all his food and pretend to chirp him for the specialty lemongrass-scented hand soap in his bathroom. Sometimes, on roadies, Swoops will plop down next to him on a bus or a plane and say loudly, “Damn, who’s got chocolate and isn’t sharing? Oh, it’s just Parser. Fuck you for getting my hopes up,” and then he’ll noogie Kent or grab his fingers and gnaw on them.

(The coaches have had to break them up before and it’s very unbecoming of two adult men.)

More than once, one of the guys has fallen asleep next to Kent and ended up face-first in Kent’s shoulder. They’ll wake up blearily, rubbing their eyes and saying, “Whoops, sorry man, didn’t mean to drool on you.” Kent was confused at first but he’s realizing that it’s because they gravitate towards the scent of him in their sleep. He smells like comforting things: honey and chocolate and cotton and Shea. He smells like warmth and safety. It’s why he likes all the things he buys, so it makes sense the guys would like that, too.

Nobody rags on him for it. They chirp him, but that’s different. Chirping, light-hearted and giggly, means acceptance. Soon his teammates start coming up to him in the locker room or nudging him on a bus and saying, “Parser, can I borrow some of your stuff?” and leaving with key-lime lips or cocoa-butter hands.

But it’s when he catches Sunny—big, burly, greatly-bearded d-man Sunny—pulling a bright orange tube of passion fruit lip balm out of his bag and slicking it on in front of everyone that he knows for sure that it’s okay.

#drabble #kent parson #being happy with himself and his life #who doesn't like women's bath products #they're more expensive but there's so much VARIETY #you can pamper the hell out of yourself #i want to marry LUSH i'm not kidding #no ships just body wash #savvy writes

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texanredrose · 7 years

Note

Bees Schnee for the OTP meme

Okay, so, since no numbers were indicated, I went ahead and did all of them. Get ready for 3k+ words of headcanons, lol.

Who is the most affectionate?Yang, especially at first. Blake and Weiss are more apt to be affectionate in private and they gradually become more affectionate in public as their relationship progresses. Yang still holds the title as most overtly affectionate, while Weiss and Blake tend for more subtle methods.

Big spoon/Little spoon?Yang spoons Blake, Blake spoons Weiss, if they’re all sleeping on their sides, which is usually the case in smaller beds not designs to hold three people. In their bed, however, they usually sleep with Yang in the middle, Blake on Yang’s right, and Weiss on Yang’s left. Not only does it allow them to see both of their partners first thing when they wake up, but they can all touch each other, which helps them sleep. (It’s a bit inconvenient when Yang has to pee in the middle of the night, though. She usually wakes up and debates whether or not to wake up one or the other, and then they wake up anyway because she’s squirming trying to hold it in.)

Most common argument?Transportation. It stems from them wanting to make sure everyone is equally part of the relationship and no one feels like a third wheel, but long drives can kinda put a hamper in that, so their method of transportation becomes more of an argument than a simple rearrangement. At first, they use Yang’s bike to get around, and while Blake and Weiss have no issues with the bike itself- it is rather nice- using it is hard for the three of them. Early in their relationship, Yang got a side car so it could transport all three, but that still left one sitting in the side car while the other gets to ride on the bike. Weiss and Blake then want to get a car, but that turns into a headache seeing as they all have different tastes when it comes to vehicles. Eventually, Blake and Weiss cave and the triad get a black McLaren F1 with yellow and white racing stripes, which works for a while until the twins are born, and then the hunt for a vehicle begins anew.

Favorite non-sexual activity?Yang’s a total cuddle bug, Weiss likes playing with Blake’s ears and Yang’s hair, and Blake likes reading to both of them, especially when they’re sleepy. Together, they like watching old movies, putting them on mute, and then ad-libbing lines in an effort to see who can make the others laugh first. They usually making it to about the thirty minute mark before someone breaks and then they just riff on the flick for the rest of the night; helps destress after a mission or when things are looking dark.

Who is most likely to carry the other?Much to their chagrin, Yang’s the only one capable of carrying the other two without stumbling. Yang’s almost pure muscle and taller, so it takes a bit of coordinated effort to pick her up, but she can lift Blake and Weiss no problem.

What is their favorite feature of their partner’s?Blake’s are Weiss’ eyes and Yang’s smile; both are incredibly expressive, but it takes time to really get to know both women to understand and tell the difference between sincere emotion and a facade, as Weiss and Yang are prone to covering their concerns, though for different reasons (Blake has the same problem but her ears often give her away). Weiss’ are Blake’s hands and Yang’s shoulders; she admires the metaphorical and literal strength in both and associates her partners’ attitudes with those features, Blake often taking control of things (even if her definition of ‘control’ sometimes means ‘running away’ and Yang shouldering blame and concerns to protect those closest to her). Yang’s are a bit bittersweet- her favorites are her partners’ scars; they’re constant reminders of the lives Weiss and Blake led before they met and eventually started dating and while she’s grateful the events shaped both of them into strong, capable people, it’s also a constant reminder that she’s not going to let anyone else hurt them like that. Meanwhile, they tend to have the same #2 slot; Blake and Weiss can agree they are both huge fans of Yang’s arms, Blake and Yang adore Weiss’ hips, and Weiss and Yang love Blake’s legs.

What’s the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?lol, This is kinda the plot for Partners, no? Anyway, in contrast to my Monochrome reply, I think they’d become extremely conscious of how much they interacted with each other. The protectiveness would still be present- Blake and Yang would get miffed with anyone disrespecting Weiss’ opinion or voice (within reason, of course, because Weiss does say some shit every now and again), Weiss and Yang would take any slight against Faunus personally (they’d handle it in their own ways, with Weiss staring fuckers down or chewing them out and Yang punching them through the nearest wall), and Blake and Weiss would not tolerate any disparaging remarks about Yang’s looks or intelligence (the only reason Neon walks out of the doubles round alive is because there’s too many cameras around)- but Yang and Blake might distance themselves from each other a bit and Weiss would hang out with Ruby more often. Everyone has their own levels of perception, so while Yang might spend equal time with Blake and Weiss, one or the other might pick up on her feelings, and the last thing she’d want to do is catch one’s attention without the other even suspecting, because that would make the whole explanation really awkward, and the other two feel the same way. All three of them would turn into awkward dorks around each other, and Blake and Yang would try to minimize it because they’re partners.

Nicknames? & if so, how did they originate?For Weiss, Yang and Blake call her 'Princess’ because it does fit her personality quite well, but Ruby get credit for coining the name. They’d also call her something more intimate in private- like 'Snowfall’, something that acknowledges her family heritage and all the baggage that comes with it while affirming that it doesn’t change their affections for her and she still has the power to affect how that heritage is viewed. For Blake, 'Kitten’ is used only in private and 'Blakey’, though most often by Yang while Weiss prefers 'Love’. In the same vein, 'Kitten’ acknowledges Blake’s Faunus heritage and both of her girlfriends are careful that the moniker is only associated with expressing their deep affection while 'Blakey’ and 'Love’ offer the bit of discretion Blake is accustomed to maintaining. For Yang, there’s a lot, and they’re usually jokes of some manner- 'Pheonix’ for when she does something self-destructive but miraculously walks away from, 'Dragon’ when her temper gets the better of her, Weiss will use 'Muscles’ when she’s spending more time talking and less time accomplishing a task, that sort of thing. But, in an intimate setting, 'Sunburst’ and 'Fallen Star’ are often used, both referring to Yang’s abundant energy and bright personality.

Who worries the most?Weiss, of course. She has two separate lists for Blake and Yang alone, and then another list for when their together of all the things that could happen. Without them knowing, she often inspects their weapons and gear herself, just to put the doubts at rest.

Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?Blake. It makes her happy to remember little details like that whenever she’s down or missing the others, so she pays close attention whenever they go out to eat; she even notices when they use salt, pepper, or spices on which meals or which moods correspond with different types of food. She’s also got a hidden stash of Atlesian chocolate and those fireball candies for whenever her partners need a little pick-me-up.

Who tops?They take turns, to an extent, but it typically goes Weiss, Yang, Blake in terms of most dominant. Blake prefers relinquishing control to her partners, Yang’s more than willing to put her strength to use or keep herself still to aid her partners, and Weiss most often just wants to personally ensure both of her girlfriends enjoy themselves.

Who initiates kisses?At first, Yang, purely because she’s just too damn happy to have both Blake and Weiss with her that she can’t always control the impulse. Blake quickly matches her, with Weiss growing accustomed to it slowly. Still, even in the later parts of their relationship, Yang’s the most prone to go for a kiss without prompting.

Who reaches for the other’s hand first?Blake. She’s most inclined towards discreet methods of showing affection in public, so she’d be the first to interlace fingers. Weiss might beat her to the punch in private, though, and Yang would probably go for a kiss first instead.

Who kisses the hardest?Weiss, though it’s mostly because of the height difference. Blake and Yang like to tease her sometimes, so she’s gotten into the habit of pulling them down to her and giving them ample reason to not pull away. It’s quite effective.

Who wakes up first?Blake. The superb hearing in her Faunus ears means she’s a light sleeper already, so she usually is the first one to wake up while the other two try to stay asleep. Unless she’s exhausted, of course. Still, she’ll feign being asleep until one or the other wakes up and sometimes until they’re both up; she tries not to monopolize the first good morning kiss, though it is tempting.

Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer?Weiss always advocates for sleeping in when there aren’t classes or other pressing matters demanding their attention that day; she’d much rather stay in bed with her girlfriends than deal with the outside world, and there’s enough things demanding their presence independent of one another that any stolen moments they can get together is worth holding onto, in her mind. However, if they have to get up for something, Yang’s usually the last to relent while Blake plays the middle ground, usually striking a compromise to keep them all happy without making them late.

Who says I love you first?Yang. Blake and Weiss have their own personal issues with expressing affection but, if there’s one thing Summer’s sudden death and Raven’s abandonment taught her, it was that you can’t tell the people you care about how much they mean to you often enough. Especially with how crazy their lives have been, she wouldn’t want to risk Weiss or Blake ever doubting how much she cares about them, so she’d say it often and sincerely. She tries to downplay how much the lack of reciprocation affects her- she understands that both of her girlfriends need time to really be comfortable with saying those words- but she would still tell them she loves them often, just so they never have to question it.

Who leaves little notes in the other’s one lunch? (Bonus: what does it usually say?)Yang; she used to do the same for Ruby when she was younger and some habits are hard to break. She also gets a kick out of watching her girlfriend’s reactions. (“C'mon, Blakey, don’t frown! You can’t have tuna every day! But if you eat all your lunch, you’ll get a nice dessert tonight! ;)” “No, Princess, you don’t need a knife and fork to eat a PB & J, just use the napkin or ask me to clean you up! ;)” Blake and Weiss try to deny how much they enjoy Yang’s teasing.)

Who tells their family/friends about their relationship first?By default, Yang; Ruby is part of their team, after all, and would be the first person informed about their relationship. Between Blake and Weiss, though, Blake manages to get a message down to Menagerie… and then further explains herself two weeks later when Ghira and Kali show up, because like hell they’re just going to wait at home now that they know a) where their daughter is and b) that she’s dating.

What do their family/friends think of their relationship?Yang’s family is entirely supportive, though Qrow has some misgivings about Weiss. He mostly keeps them to himself so Yang can be happy; his beef is mostly with Winter, anyway. Taiyang’s warily happy that Yang’s found two people she cares so much about. He’s concerned she’ll make the same mistakes he did, despite their differing circumstances, but let’s her do it anyway. Only way she’ll really learn if things go south is to not interfere at all, he figures, and he treats Blake and Weiss like family until that worry fades away completely. Blake’s family is split at first; Kali is supportive but Ghira needs to be won over a bit. Honestly, Kali’s a bit too supportive and has to be told to stop with her 'suggestions’ while Yang gets Ghira’s approval after a bit of joking around and roughhousing and Weiss wins him over after the two butt heads over SDC policies- she turns out to be more progressive than he’d given her credit for, and manages to be both forceful and respectful, which will be needed when it comes to affecting change. Once he gives them the chance, Ghira becomes genuinely fond of Yang and Weiss, seeing as they both put in noticeable effort to make his daughter happy, and he welcomes them with open arms after that. Weiss, on the other hand, only has Winter for support; her father rejects the relationship entirely, her brother isn’t about to get in the middle of this, and her mother… yeah. We’re not going into that. Winter, at least, is glad her sister’s found her own way in the world that seems to be leading her to happiness. She could do without being indirectly related to Qrow, but, she’s willing to make that sacrifice for her sister.

Who is more likely to start dancing with the other?Weiss. She didn’t get a chance to at the school dance so, after one off hand remark about ballroom dancing, takes it upon herself to teach Yang and Blake a few different styles. She usually sings along with the music, too, and they eventually create their own style of dancing that works for most waltzing songs but allows all three of them to move together, and they’ll hum along with the music.

Who cooks more/who is better at cooking?Yang, mainly thanks to Summer and Ruby. She teaches Weiss and Blake some of Summer’s and Taiyang’s old recipes but usually takes on cooking duty herself; it’s as relaxing as going a few rounds against a heavy bag, but with a better result. She’s also more than a little proud when she can get one or both of her girlfriends to moan without even touching them, and good food is one way to make that happen.

Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines?Again, Yang- it’s like breathing for her- while Blake is prone to quoting her *ahem* romance novels. Weiss tries and usually fails to land the delivery just right, but Yang and Blake both think that’s too damn cute, so it works in her favor.

Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear during inappropriate times?Weiss- and she’s gotten better at using the smallest amount of words to produce the maximum effect as time goes on. Yang’s too loud to try and Blake’s more tactile- a brush of her fingertips as they pass is more her style.

Who needs more assurance?All of them need assurance, for varying reasons, but Weiss needs slightly more. While she always expected, to some degree, that her relationship with her father would deteriorate at some point, losing the security of her family is still a blow that shakes her up. Add to that how often she feels like she’s playing catch up when it comes to expressing her emotions, telling Blake and Yang how much she cares about them, and allowing herself to be open and honest with them- it’s only natural for her to doubt her choices and actions, second guess herself, and have the worst outcomes plague her mind.

What would be their theme song?“Under Pressure” by Queen and David Bowie. (Yang will often joke that “3” by Britney Spears is their favorite song; Blake usually laughs while Weiss rolls her eyes and calls her crass.)

Who would sing to their child back to sleep?Weiss usually sings to the kids to get them to sleep; Yang’s singing usually makes them too hyper to go to bed, because she picks high tempo, driving rock songs instead of lullabies. Blake only sings very rarely, so they end up listening too intently to be lulled to sleep.

What do they do when they’re away from each other?Weiss tends to either spend her time practicing her combat technique or scrutinizing the business news but, when she’s looking to relax, she’ll put on some classical music or an old movie to unwind. Sometimes, Neptune will come over and they’ll joke about who’s more pretentious- the characters in the movie or Neptune himself- or they’ll mock depictions of stereotypes together. Blake usually reads, either at home curled up in her favorite chair by the window or down at the park, sitting in a huge tree and occasionally people watching. Every now and then, she and Sun will grab a meal to catch up or volunteer down at a homeless shelter. Yang goes out for solo rides on Bumblebee or takes a round with a heavy bag, depending on her mood. Otherwise, she and Nora will go clubbing just so they can be loud and have fun. If one of them’s busy and the other two are free, Blake and Weiss will usually find a book shop where Blake can find a new book and Weiss can read the paper, Weiss and Yang often play video games either head-to-head or cooperatively, and Blake and Yang go for a run.

one headcanon about this OTP that breaks your heartIn any universe where Yang loses her arm, she’ll feel guilty whenever holding/hugging/touching her girlfriends, because only one of them can feel her at any given time; the other just has her prosthetic, which isn’t the same. It really impacts her self image and her perceived worth as a good girlfriend to both of them, something that takes years for her to fully comes to terms with and tears her apart emotionally until then.

one headcanon about this OTP that mends itBecause of the way their respective histories have shaped them, all three understand that loving someone else- or two someones- means accepting the present and the past in order to build a future together. It’s an all-or-nothing package. Regardless of what each has individually lost, there’s two people who care about them, and those feelings are returned. It doesn’t replace what was lost but what emerges is all the stronger for it.

#Bee's Schnee #TRR asks #meme thing

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