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queenlucythevaliant · 1 year

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Hello! 🧡 I'm curious how you balance viewing scripture as infallible while also not taking parts of it (Genesis in particular, to reference your recent post) literally. I've heard some people say that Genesis is meant to be a poetic version of creation and therefore not entirely truthful: sort of like a kids' story, how some details could be fudged without losing The Point. I get why God wouldn't give us all the details, and it's not like this is necessarily a core doctrine issue, but I guess what I'm asking is if scripture is infallible, why would it give an incorrect account?

Hey Anna! I'd love to talk about this! It's one of my favorite issues in the world, actually, so please be prepared for a whole lot of passion from me 😆

So the bottom line, like I said in my previous post, is that I believe that all Scripture is true and infallible, but that it ought not be read literalistically. This is not the same as saying that some Scripture is less true by virtue of using poetic language, nor that I believe that details have been fudged. For me (and others who interpret Scripture as I do), it comes down to analysis of Biblical language, style, and genre.

So okay, let me start by defining my terms:

History = A text detailing true events that actually happened. These accounts may use symbolic, metaphorical, or otherwise figurative language in the service of conveying these events. A history is also not necessarily complete in its detail or exact in its chronology unless the text itself makes those claims (ie it's possible for histories to backtrack and tell events again from another point of view; this is pretty common actually.)

Biblical figurative language can take a variety of forms depending on the genre of the text we're discussing, however in general it is used to express truths that cannot be expressed in other ways. I'm gonna quote Lewis again here, as I think his discussion of Biblical symbolism in Mere Christianity is really great and relevant. This is from book three, chapter 10 (Hope):

There is no need to be worried by facetious people who try to make the Christian hope of "Heaven" ridiculous by saying they do not want "to spend eternity playing harps." The answer to such people is that if they cannot understand books written for grown-ups, they should not talk about them. All the scriptural imagery (harps, crowns, gold, etc.) is, of course, a merely symbolical attempt to express the inexpressible. Musical instruments are mentioned because for many people (not all) music is the thing known in the present life which most strongly suggests ecstasy and infinity.

Crowns are mentioned to suggest the fact that those who are united with God in eternity share His splendour and power and joy. Gold is mentioned to suggest the timelessness of Heaven (gold does not rust) and the preciousness of it. People who take these symbols literally might as well think that when Christ told us to be like doves, He meant that we were to lay eggs.

Figurative language is used throughout the entire Bible. It's in discussions of heaven, like Jack illustrates here, but it's also frequently used in the Epistles ("I have been crucified with Christ") and, in the Gospels ("You must be born again.") It's heavily employed in the prophetic books, Psalms, and the wisdom literature (not even gonna pick an example, it's everywhere). It's used frequently throughout the Pentateuch (God "bore [the Israelites] up on eagle's wings"). It is used in Biblical histories ("[Samson's] soul was vexed to death"), though not to the extent that I believe it's used in Genesis 1-11. Sometimes the text telegraphs that figurative language is about to be used, but certainly not always.

None of these things are any less true than the things described in what we might call "plain" language. Rather, imagery is a tool that helps us understand the deeper truth of a thing; it "expresses the inexpressible" without causing us to doubt that the images are about something real. Sometimes, the language even tells us something that occured spiritually/from God's perspective, but which did not literally happen in the physical world (again, "I have been crucified with Christ.") I think it's clearly a mistake to conclude that the presence of figurative language means that the story is merely figurative or that it's incorrect.

So I read the Genesis 1-2 creation account as a largely figurative account of historical events, and I think it's written that way in order to convey God's perspective of creation. Certainly a human perspective on creation would be (a) theologically un-useful and (b) impossible for an ancient person to understand.

To expound on point (b) a little bit: even a modern person, with all the geological, paleontological, chemical, and genetic evidence that we have, simply cannot comprehend the expanse of what we call "deep time." Modern scientists must communicate these things in metaphors: they use 24-hour clocks in which each minute is thirty thousand years and football fields with geological epochs marked off at the various yard lines in order to try to express that which the human mind is fundamentally not equipped to grasp. The Bible should and must tell the story of creation from God's perspective, and to do that it must use figurative language.

Thus, "Days" are figurative days, but as such they convey greater truths about the way that creation appeared to God: it was gradual and periodic and God was patient, yet it did not seem to take eons to him. It was like a week of diligent work that produced good results.

Likewise, when the text says that God speaks light and land and life into existence, we can read that as a statement of God's incredible, beautiful power over creation. The moon likely formed in the "Big Splat," when another planet collided with proto-Earth and flung debris into space (I'm not even gonna touch the formation of the sun-- waaaaaay outside my wheelhouse). To God, these things were as simple as saying, "Let there be lights in the expanse of the heavens to separate the day from the night" and then making them. The complex natural processes involved were simple before the Almighty God.

Likewise, the billions of years that are took for life to evolve, from self-replicating auto-catalytic molecules to microbes to multicellular life that arose from endosymbiosis and horizontal gene transfer, and then all the way down the epochs of history: the beautiful Cambrian Explosion, trilobites and the first chordates, then Tiktaalik propping itself up in shallow water and its tetrapod descendants stepping onto land for the first time; those strange, fascinating club-moss forests of the Carboniferous, dinosaurs and archaeopteryx taking to the skies, the K-T extinction event and then mammals picking up the torch and growing larger, whales returning to the seas and their vestigial legs disappearing, life, life life... All of that, to God, was two days of creation in which he spoke and natural processes produced the glorious array of life that existed when Adam and Eve came to be. He had authority over all of it. He said "Let the earth bring forth living creatures," and it did! God made them as surely as if he had sculpted them from clay with his hands, as miraculously as if He had spoken a word and they had existed in a split-second.

It's all true! All truth is God's truth! Every word of Genesis is God's truth, not despite the fact that it's written using figurative language, but because it is. We can understand truths that science alone can't account for - that in all the vastness of protein sequence space, God formed rubisco and ATP synthase: not by random chance, but through loving providence using randomness as a tool. We can see deep time as God sees it, not as a yawning abyss that we can't begin to properly conceptualize, but as a week in the mind of our great God who transcends time.

(My concluding paragraph is going to be somewhat harsh toward YE Creationists, but it cuts to the core of why I feel so strongly about how we read Genesis. I'm going to put it under the cut so that no one has to read it unless they want to; I'm not trying to attack anyone. I hope you know that I say all these things out of a place of deep, deep love.)

Returning to what Jack said: "If [people] cannot understand books written for grown-ups, they should not talk about them." YE Creationists would have us read Genesis without allowing for any figurative language; they would disregard the scientific method in order to do so. To my thinking, if a creation in seven 24-hour days were the intended meaning of the text- if we were, like children, meant to take everything in it entirely literally- then God would be a liar, because then he would have created a world in which the speed of light and geologic strata and the fossil record and even the evidence of our own DNA and physiology are all lying to us about how we were created. I could not love such a God.

But because I, like Jack, like millions of other Christians, can read the text of Scripture and interpret the figurative language it uses, I can instead marvel at the wonder and glory of our Creator-God, to whom epochs are like days, who can speak natural processes into existence. Scripture is history and it's poetry and it's all true. All truth is God's truth.

#i would love to write a book on these subjects someday #once i'm an experienced expert in microbial evolution i'd love to either go back to school for an mdiv or collaborate with a theologian #to produce a pair of books: one targeted at scientific minded non-Christians and another targeted at YE-creationists #idk it's a long way off #but this feels like good practice #love you dearly anna my friend #thanks for asking this #i hope my answer was okay and that i didn't come on too strong lol #if you or anyone else would like me to recommend some of my favorite books/articles/talks on these subjects lmk #i'm abysmal at keeping track of my reading/listening so it would definitely take a while to hunt things down and compile #but i could manage it #i do have more than just cs lewis quotes in my wheelhouse but i tend to figure that he's someone we can all broadly agree on #all truth is god's truth #ask me hard questions

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faitsansorganes · 1 year

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next time someone immediately switches to English with me because I can't fucking hear what they're saying or I'm just taking a while to process what they said because my auts are tismed I'm just fucking killing myself in front of them (don't open the tags unless you want to see me complaining too much)

#well like i KNOW they're trying to be helpful but i really dislike it #the only time i prefer english is when it comes to like bank housing legal shit etc #where if i fuck up with my polish it can have Consqeuences but i know the interlocutor knows english on a professional level #aside from that i'm like -_-#te słowa znam po prostu mam raczej powolny mózg!!!#no but it irritated me when one professor was asking about my “situation” before class once #idk even why? bc like it's pretty obvious i'm a foreigner #given my name accent and grammatical errors #but she asked if i was like. an exchange student or a regular student #and the question was weird to me so i was like huh?#and so she asked again in english and like #did i ask to use english #why would you assume that i need to do that when i turned in a research essay that you yourself said is good #and required me to read a bunch of academic articles in polish #like CLEARLY i understand the language on a communicative level #whatever i just responded in polish and she didn't use english again but #STOP!!!#(admittedly kind of funny because the question was still baffling to me in english so she asked if i knew english #because while i'm american my accent DOESN'T make it immediately obvious)#oh yeah i had to email this one guy from the admissions committee because the whole process of submitting documents #as a foreigner is an Ordeal #and at one point he was like 'if you have any questions you can write in english too!'#which didn't really annoy me because he was only offering and only wrote that sentence in english #but like pls you are literally handling my admission to the POLISH PHILOLOGY program why would i want to use english here #anyways i do get sad bc i DO need more live conversational practice in polish #since i self-studied and got none #to the point my language competency interview for this uni were my first time actually SPEAKING polish #but like i'm painfully aware of how my speech is so i don't converse with anyone #bc i feel they'll just get annoyed with me #and so the problem doesn't much improve itself

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six-of-ravens · 2 years

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the news: inflation is happening again

the news: the interest rate went up too so good luck buying a house

the news: also grocery prices went up again

the news: and the price of gas

the news: oh also corporations are purposefully letting their rentals fall into disrepair and being assholes to tenants so they'll move out so they can jack up the rent for the next sucker

the news: omg shocking!! 70% of young people are still living with their parents!! why aren't they buying houses?? why aren't they buying luxury goods?!?!

#so i deleted my news app again #i read that last article abt landlords and just stared into the camera like im on the office #literally cannot open that app without feeling like the good job i supposedly have ans everything ive worked for is worth nothing (:#(also idk if its 70% but i saw an article the other day abt how many young ppl in my province still live w their parents)#(the news was SHOCKED but i was like....yeah if i didn't have my mental health and boundaries to consider I wouldn't be living alone)#(even that might not be enough in the future the cost of living is skyrocketing. who knows if i can even afford a 1 bdrm apt next year?)#anyway despair post over time to go eat dinner

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nerdyqueerandjewish · 2 months

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7 Types of Rest

I've been reading a bit about this and jotting down some notes because the framework is helpful for communicating my different kinds of exhausted and gives me ideas on how to help myself more, and idk I thought I would share because I think other people might find it useful or interesting. I don't have just one article on it to recommend because unfortunately they are almost all trying to sell you their telehealth services or a meditation app or whatever.

**Disclaimer that resting isn't going to fix everything, examples of things to do aren't going to be accessible to everyone, they are just meant to be a start to brain storming, this is not medical advice etc...**

Physical - Relates to activities that are physically restorative

Mental - Relates to taking a break from mental stimulation

Spiritual - Relates to the fundamental need for belonging, purpose and acceptance

Emotional - Relates to being able to experience and express your real and authentic feelings

Sensory - Relates to giving your senses a break from stimulation

Social - Relates to feeling energized by spending time with people who contribute to your life in positive, supportive, and meaningful ways

Creative - Relates to appreciating beauty or feeling awe/wonder

Notes I made for "signs you need x type of rest" and actually getting that type of rest are under the cut. Again, they are personal so take them with a grain of salt. Also some of my notes on things I could do would definitely apply to others. I didn't want to keep writing "go outside" and "journal" for over half of them lol.

Physical Rest

Signs you may need physical rest

Feeling fatigued, body aches and pains

Feeling mentally sluggish or foggy

Getting some relief

Prioritize getting good quality sleep

Go on walks or engage in other gentle physical activity

Stretch throughout the day

Getting a massage (maybe trade with a friend or partner?)

Improve the ergonomics of your workspace

Mental Rest

Signs you may need mental rest

Unable to concentrate or recall simple things

Unable to relax

Racing thoughts

Getting some relief

Schedule breaks throughout the day

Write things down (can help racing thoughts or things you're worried about forgetting)

Do a satisfying activity that doesn't require much thought (example: coloring pages, simple craft)

Spiritual Rest

Signs you may need spiritual rest

Feeling lack of purpose or belonging

Getting some relief

Get involved in local community

volunteer

pray or meditate

Emotional Rest

Signs you may need emotional rest

Feeling weighed down

Stifling/suppressing feelings

Strong need to please others

Getting some relief

Talk to someone who allows you to be your authentic self

Participating in a peer support group

Journaling

Sensory Rest

Signs you may need sensory rest

Feeling energized at the start of the day, but becoming more irritable as the day progresses

Getting distracted by noises other people seem to be able to tune out

Getting some relief

Use dimmable lighting or lamps

Regularly set notifications to do not disturb

Use power strips to easily turn off multiple appliances at once

Avoid running loud appliances during busy parts of the day (ex. if washing machine is loud, don't run it while you're trying to pack and get out the door on time)

Social Rest

Signs you may need social rest

Feeling drained, exhausted

Feeling like your only interactions are with people who want/need something from you

Getting some relief

Nurture life-affirming, meaningful relationships

Make time for socializing with friends who don't "need" anything from you, where you can just enjoy each other's company

If you know you will be interacting with someone you find draining, make a plan to engage in social rest after

Creative Rest

Signs you may need creative rest

Feeling "blah"

Struggling with problem solving or brainstorming

Getting some relief

Go out in nature

Spend time in inviting spaces

Listen to music

Watch a skilled performer

Display items you find visually appealing in both home and work spaces

#long post #I would like to share more of my notes on things but idk what a tag for that would be #rest

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aves-ery · 11 months

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CEO or Mob boss Wanda and stripper R👀 maybe she's just getting some visit to a certain club and she only have her for R but R is kind avoiding her. R is kind of snappy and feisty for Wanda but Wanda loved her more. One night she saw R entertaining other guests so she brought the whole club and kicked everyone out so she could have R all for herself.

Idk maybe you'd like to consider, btw you works are great and wonderful and so are you! Thanks!!!

one, thank you! two, this is ctually so bad bc I'm tired and for some reason forgot how to write good smut? but heres just wanda crazy for you.

pairing; CEO!wanda x stripper!reader

warnings; smut 18+ ONLY, infatuated wanda, praise!!, strap-on, fingering

if anyone saw wanda at a strip club, it'd be a field day for press. but quite honestly, she didnt care when she laid her eyes on you. she saw the flashes of the cameras when she walked in, but when she saw you in that lingerie, she didn't care what the articles were gonna read the next day.

wanda sat snug in a booth, watching you from afar. her silk button up was unbuttoned down to her upper stomach, her boobs only covered by her tight fitting sports-bra.

"i want that one," she pointed you out to all of her boss friends, a beer bottle still in hand. you were all over someone else, a lap dance she presumed.

one of the guys whistled you over, waving a "come here" motion. wanda knew it wasnt the way to get your attention, but you followed through, stalking over to them. you smiled, waving.

"hey gentlemen," you said seductively, plopping your pretty ass onto Tony's lap. wanda rolled her eyes.

"actually, as pretty as you are baby, this one wanted ya," tony pointed to wanda, and wanda waved her fingers.

"you just caught my eye, pretty," she said. you recognized the CEO immediately. you had to fight an eyeroll because no way in hell you were letting some snob like wanda touch you. you turned to the gruffy man whose lap you are on.

"i came over to see you," you avoided. the men around the table laughed, making fun of wanda. wanda just told them to all "shut the fuck up."

she tried to get your attention all night, buying you drinks, complimenting you, trying to just make you say hi. all she'd get in response is an eye roll and a "leave me alone."

"yo, get away from the girl she told you to stop," a bouncer said, pushing wanda away from you.

"look man, im not trying to cause a problem. she's just a pretty lady," wanda laughed, trying to use her charm to make him let her through.

"sorry, the girls not comfortable with you," the bouncer said again. wanda groaned, pulling out her wallet.

"c'mon ill even pay to just talk to her, man," wanda pulled out a few hundred dollar bills, and you rolled your eyes at the interaction. "i wont touch her, fucking promise. just wanna get to know the gal," wanda pleaded.

the bouncer looked at you, pointing at the money. wanda was at least holding 500 dollars in her hand currently. it was a silent agreement, and wanda was allowed into the private room

she handed a bill to the bouncer, then a few to you, before sitting in one of the booths. "you're a feisty one," she joked. you rolled your eyes.

"you can't buy me," she snapped. wanda nodded.

"im not trying to, babe. you're just... very intriguing," wanda said.

you had complained all of the next week, even after you didnt see wanda. you just didnt want her around, and didn't want her paying her way to you.

wanda found that out quickly, but she couldn't help it. you deserved to be worshiped with everything she could buy.

she sent you flowers, chocolates, everything to work. she didn't even know what days you worked, and she still sent them. Every time, you snacked on the chocolate and left the flowers in the trash. you didn't complain about that though. if she was going to spend money on you, she was going to laugh about it.

wanda came again two weeks later. she smiled and waved at you, but you continued flirting with a client. your hands on the man more than usual, making sure to get a rise out of her. you avoided her, but from close by. she'd call you over, and you'd give a lap dance to a guy near her.

wanda was fucking tired of it. that week, she bought the whole strip club. when you found out, you quit.

"no." wanda said.

"what?! you're fucking crazy. you're stalking me!" you screamed. wanda raised her eyebrows, standing up

"im not stalking you!" she screamed back at you

you laughed, "right. you're just fucking craz-" wanda kissed you. hard. you pushed her away, looking at her like she was actually insane, because she was, and then you kissed her back harder.

wanda grabbed your hips, picking you up and setting you on her desk. "you were just too pretty to leave alone. I'd buy the whole earth to be with you," she told you.

you thought she was joking, but she really wasn't. wanda was infatuated with you. when you looked her in the eyes, you could tell. you kissed her hard, allowing the woman you barely knew to have all of you.

"you're so pretty," wanda said, removing your sweater and kissing your breasts. you blushed, nodding.

"thank you," you whispered, moaning softly.

"you'll never have to work again, okay? and I'll win you over, i promise. I'll take you out on dates, I'll buy you dinner," wanda got on her knees sliding your shorts down, looking at you in the eyes. "I'll do anything, for you."

you blushed again, nodding, "win me over," you moaned. wanda nodded, sliding your panties over and taking you in.

"such a good girl," she praised, licking you fully. you shook softly, tangling your hands into wanda's hair. her lips found your clit, sucking softly.

you let out another breathy moan, and another as two digits pushed into you. your hand flew everything off the desk, and you lied back. wanda could deal with it later, you decided.

she was quick to make you cum, cleaning your thighs and kissing them both. she got rid of her pants, revealing a large red strap on. you looked at wanda with shaky arms and legs, smiling at her.

she didn't bother to take her button up off, only her pants and boxers, before shuffling towards you. "can i make you mine?" wanda asked, kissing your palms. you smiled up at her.

"yes," you said again, kissing her deeply. wanda smiled, lining her strap up with your cunt, before softly making her way into you.

the strap was the biggest you've taken, so you were grateful for wanda's soft nature. she looked at you, searching for any sign of discomfort. when she didn't find any, she started to go faster.

your hands found her back, gripping her shoulders and scratching down her back, "faster, wanda," you pleaded.

wanda nodded quickly, making sure to pick up the pace, "anything for you, doll," wanda kissed her thumb. she grabbed your boobs, kissing them both before kissing your lips. "you're so pretty like this," wanda said, kissing you again.

"thank you," you moaned. wanda's hand found your clit, rubbing softly until you came around her strap.

when you finished, she pulled out and washed you up with a washcloth. she then put you back into your shorts, and then her own hoodie.

"gonna get you back home and run you a bath, kay? dont gotta worry about anything ever again. I'll take care of you."

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #marvel #wanda x you #wanda x reader #ceo!wanda #wanda maximoff fanfiction

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lewkwoodnco · 6 months

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"Slut!" - Lockwood x Reader

A/N: been having a lottt of thoughts about this song. it wasn't what I expected like for a lot of ppl but this is immediately my favourite?? like idk man those hints of her rep era beginning mixed with the emotional vulnerability of being in love mannn im going to be annoying abt this for a wholeee month. Reader is a Fittes agent, wc 5.4k!!

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 3.5 | Ch 4 | Ch 5

On paper, her employers had always commended her for her drive for excellence. What was usually glossed over was how it arose from an unhealthy obsession with perfection, not that it mattered. And yet, glowing articles about successful cases were rare and far between. She had led as many successful cases as some of her male colleagues, but those headlines were seemingly too dull for her sex. After all, who wanted to read about a woman showing up the men in her field? So the tabloids started to play dirty, spinning convoluted rumoured love stories from any and every photo of her in the vicinity of a man.

She remembered how devastating the first article was. Instead of publishing one of the many photos of her standing with her team, there was a shadowed, grainy photograph of her talking to their supervisor. She tried to tell anyone who asked her that no, they weren't kissing, not that it would have mattered if it did, but no one seemed much interested in listening. The shame burnt into the side of her face like a scarlet letter. A slut.

Eventually, she decided to just keep everyone at arm's length. Maybe if she kept her head down long enough they'd run out of knives to throw at her. And for a good two years, it somewhat worked, or at least helped. But then she met Lockwood.

She didn't think much of him at first - if anything, she resented his suave, silver tongue and how the press went nuts for his charismatic smiles. He tried to dazzle her with one when they first met, and she nearly scoffed.

"Anthony Lockwood, Lockwood and Co. And you are...?"

"Disgusted."

She tried talking to Barnes, throwing in some less-than-complimentary opinions on Lockwood, but he just waved her off. Eventually, she came around, but only because he was undeniably skilled, and it would have been unprofessional to freeze him out forever.

She remembered the first time he made her smile. Their supervisor was having them sign their case report, so she wasn't even looking at him. He whispered some inane remark which caught her completely off-guard, but it was enough to make her damage the tip of the fountain pen as she choked on a laugh. Her supervisor looked unimpressed, grumbling about the pen, but Lockwood's face had taken on an animated spark.

"Oh, good. I was beginning to wonder if you knew how to smile."

The smile is a foreign feeling on her face. Lockwood gently takes the report from her and starts talking in smooth tones that flow right over her head. She shakes herself and tries to pull herself together, trying to soothe the nervous flutter of her heart. She can only bear catching glimpses of his words and she struggles to string together coherent responses.

But then she hears the vans pulling up. Vans filled with news agencies and their bulky cameras. She's paralysed by a flash of fear and she jumps apart from Lockwood as if burnt, tripping over her words as she forces out some lame excuse of needing to check on her team. Lockwood looks mildly concerned, but she pushes it to the back of her mind.

They meet again a week or two later. She's sitting outside a conference room, waiting for Barnes to finish a meeting, and she realises with a start that the man in the room she's facing is Lockwood. To be fair, she hadn't seen him in an indoor setting before, and he seemed nearly unrecognisable with his typically crisp shirt dusty and wrinkled, with his sleeves rolled up his forearms. She watches him laugh over something with one of his associates as they leave the room, and she drinks in the sight like a man starved. There is something so desperately appealing about the vitality in his face and jaunty movements.

As the smile fades, she recognises the exhaustion on his face; the kind that made her want to do nothing more than stumble home and crawl under the covers. But then he sees her, and he gives her a teasing smile that stokes her spirits. His associate gives her a tired wave and walks out.

"Waiting for me?"

She rolls her eyes and nods towards the conference room. "Waiting for Barnes. Going home?"

He jerks his head noncommittally before sitting down next to her. He looks oddly bare without his coat, and it feels almost too intimate to have him sitting this close to her. She sits up, alarmed.

"What, you need to see him too?"

"You look like you could use some company."

"Lockwood, it could be hours before he's done. Besides, you look like death. Go home, get some rest."

"Joke's on you, I always look like death."

She shakes her head but smiles despite herself. "You're incorrigible."

"Thank you."

They sit in silence for a while, long enough until her breathing evens out. She wonders if he's aware of the way his fingers drum restlessly on his thigh, or the ash coating the side of his face, or how both of those things make him utterly irresistible.

"How do you do it? Stay so young, I mean."

He considers his answer carefully. She takes in the sight of a Lockwood without a ready quip at the tip of his tongue. "I suppose it helps that I'm not singly obsessed with the dead, though it does get close sometimes. Who do you live with?"

"Oh, my family lives outside of London." Thank god. She couldn't imagine the looks on their faces if they heard half of what London's tabloids had to say about her.

"You live alone?"

"Yeah. But it's not so bad. There's a cat that wanders in the street below my flat at night." He doesn't look completely convinced, but he lets it slide.

"Really, I owe it all to my friends - oh, you'd love them. You should come over sometime."

"That's sweet of you."

"Our weekends are generally empty."

"Oh...I couldn't. I don't know where you live."

"35 Portland Row."

"Lockwood," she admonishes. "Don't you think this is something you should run by your friends first?"

"I've done worse."

"I'm practically a stranger."

"Then how else are we supposed to get to know you?"

Her mind tears her away from Lockwood's silhouette, to troubling piles of tabloids dragging her to filth. After months of them, she isn't sure where she ends and where the fabrication begins. She barely manages a whisper.

"I think you'd regret getting to know me."

She doesn't realise how tightly her fist is clenched until he brushes her wrist, and the tension flows out of her. His eyes are liquid and his touch is golden and she's paralysed with dizziness. In that moment, it was enough to be young and in love.

"Only one way to find out."

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She takes him up on his invitation sooner than either of them expected. They had just finished a job at a house just a street over from Portland Row, and her team was walking with Lockwood & Co. on their way to the main street. She pauses as George fiddles with the frozen door while the rest of her team walk on, tiredly waving them good night. But just as she turns to leave, she slips on a patch of ice, falling into a pile of snow while Lockwood lunges for her.

"Dear god, you must be freezing. Come in and warm up."

"It's alright, I can catch a cab home-"

"Y/N, I am not above pushing you back into the snow."

Her laugh morphs into a violent shiver, just as Lucy walks over concernedly.

"Everything okay? Lockwood's not bullying you, is he?" She cracks a small smile, but Lockwood just impatiently ignores Lucy.

"Stay for breakfast. Spend the day. Lucy would love the company. Luce, tell her."

"It would be nice."

"I'm soaked through. I need a change of clothes."

"Lucy can get you a change of clothes. Luce, tell her."

"I can get you a change of clothes."

"I wouldn't want to be an imposition."

Lockwood inhales and turns to Lucy, who smacks the breath right out of him.

"I'm right here, Lockwood. Don't be ridiculous, Y/N, we'd love to have you over." Lucy exchanges a look with Lockwood, but it's so brief she wonders if she's imagined it, but it's just then that George forces the door open, and she gets jostled into their warm and dry home. Lucy helps her dry off and tosses her some clothes, including a spare oversized jumper, before bundling her and setting her down in front of the fire in the library.

It feels wonderfully cosy at first, and she only realises she's dozed off when she wakes up with a crick in her neck and beads of sweat on her forehead and neck. She pushes the blankets off her, sighing in relief as she starts to cool down. She hears the rustle of a page behind her and turns.

Lockwood is sitting in an armchair behind her, tie loosened and sleeves rolled up, a magazine on his lap. He smiles weakly at her, wincing as he rotates his neck. She was beginning to feel convinced that he ate, slept and worked in the same set of clothes. Her voice is gravelly with sleep.

"Still up?"

"Someone had to make sure you didn't roll into the fire. Besides, it hasn't been long."

She squints at the clock hung near the door. Unless the shadows were playing tricks on her, it was only a few hours from dawn. The glance he shared with Lucy earlier flashes in her mind, and she presses him about it.

"Say, you haven't told Lucy anything particularly saddening about me, have you?"

He waffles a bit. "I haven't said anything that isn't true."

"Lockwood."

"Fine...I might have mentioned how you live alone, and that you've only got a cold, dark home waiting for you. Alone."

"I didn't say that."

"So you're saying it's not true?"

She hesitates, and he quirks the corner of his mouth triumphantly. "It's no bother, Y/N. Lucy feels as bad about it as I do - George too. Just let us fuss over you for a while, I promise it'll soothe us."

She relents, but she's not happy about it. She watches him lazily flip through the pages with a becoming interest and decides that it's a nice change from the frantic energy running through him on cases. His eyes stay mostly fixed on the pages, but after a while the way he glances up occasionally makes her think his interest is waning. He looks at her strangely, and she unpleasantly realises that the jumper is likely his. She tugs at the hem, itching to take it off, but she isn't wearing a shirt underneath, so she settles for continuing to profusely apologise.

"I'm so sorry for burdening all of you-"

"Y/N, relax. As long as you're warm."

"Well...I'm awake now. And I won't stay too close to the fire. Aren't you going to sleep?"

"I'm a bit wired after the case. Might take a nap later in the day." He jerks his head towards the door. "My room's just down the hallway if you'd like to get some proper rest."

She flushes; talking about his bedroom while wearing his jumper feels too intimate to bear. "It's okay. I'd rather stay here with...you." She chews the inside of her cheek as soon as she says it, holding her breath as she gauges his reaction.

"That's a relief. I'd rather you be here anyway."

She doesn't understand how he says it so casually when she feels that she might run out of air. She tries to calm herself down, taking deep, long breaths. She could be normal if she tried hard enough. They spend the rest of the night like that, somehow never running out of topics to discuss. He tells her about Jessica. She tells her about her family. It's only as he gets up to get ready for breakfast that she asks him about the magazine in his lap. "What were you reading?"

Now it's his turn to look embarrassed. "Oh, er, I like to keep up with what's happening around town -"

"Is that...a tabloid?" She pulls out one of the magazines sticking out of the pile set to the side and blanches at the headline with a dramatically edited photograph of her. Shame burns the side of her face, and she wishes the floor would just open up and swallow her whole. She had stupidly assumed he hadn't heard of her before meeting her, but why shouldn't he have? The magazines beat her to making a first impression, just like they always have. Just like they always will.

"I can explain."

"No, no, it's fine." Was something wrong with her ears, or did her voice sound a bit too distant? "Lots of people read tabloids. It doesn't mean anything. Anyway, we should get ready for breakfast."

"Y/-"

"Lockwood. I mean it. Drop it." The cut-up look in his eyes is bad enough without an apology. What was he apologising for? For her being such For her being a laughingstock? He bows his head and shuffles out of the library. She stays there, frozen, sitting on the floor, until she hears George rattling about in the kitchen. She walks in, slightly disconcerted by the casual t-shirt Lockwood had changed into. So many of his hard edges and shadows in the the library seemed to soften into a more vulnerable outline that makes her regret snapping at him. She mumbles a greeting and George takes a long look at her. If he notices their matching eye bags, he doesn't comment on it, but while she's making tea, she hears a scuffle behind her and turns to see George standing next to Lockwood with the frying pan alarmingly close to his head.

"Eggs, Y/N?"

Lucy arrives soon after, and begins to spread jam on her toast despite George's aggrieved protests.

"Oh, Y/N, I hope you didn't spend all night on the hard floor. I didn't hear you come up to the attic."

"The attic?"

"Yeah, where the extra bed is." She brandishes her jelly-covered knife vaguely threateningly. "Lockwood told you about it, didn't he?"

The boy in question seems a bit too busy buttering his bread to look up. She mumbles an affirmative, but notices his reluctance to meet her eye for majority of breakfast. Still, she couldn't stay mad at him for long, and it didn't seem awfully polite to, either, not after he opened his home to her.

After breakfast, Lockwood left to scope out a potential client and George headed to the Archives for a bit of light reading, so she and Lucy spend the morning playing board games and watching crappy television while painting their nails. She hadn't felt so alive in months. After a few hours, Lucy suddenly remembers some paperwork she had to complete so while she's busy with that, she wanders around the stairs and hallways, reading every newspaper clipping and looking at every picture, eventually working her way down to the kitchen.

She hears a creak coming from the inside and looks in. Lockwood's returned from his excursion and he shrugs off his jacket, placing it on one of the kitchen chairs as she timidly steps in. He seems just as much at a loss for words as her. She tries to break the ice and, surprisingly, it works.

"Seems a bit full of yourself to litter the halls with your achievements." He gives her a small smile and she revels in the glimmer of success.

"Can't help that I'm especially gifted."

Emboldened, she takes a seat at the table as he pulls out an apple from the fruit bowl and a chopping board.

"Nasty business with the press, isn't it?"

She moodily fiddles with the thinking cloth. "Yeah, well. God forbid a woman be happy."

He looks at her like he's trying to figure her out. The attention makes her fidget nervously. They watch him slice the apple into halves, and then quarters, in silence. "Is that why you're so...highly strung on cases?"

"George tell you to talk to me?"

"Er, yes, but he didn't need to. I'm sorry about earlier, by the way. I have an uncanny ability of putting my foot in it."

"I'd never have guessed." She isn't even being sarcastic. She talks to the apple rather than him. "I hate it. They say all these...awful things about me. Not that I have to tell you." She blinks humourlessly. He sets down the knife.

"Y/N, if you think I believe a word those gossip rags have to say about you, I might be seriously overestimating your intelligence."

She swallows the lump in her throat. It's the nicest thing anyone has said to her in a long while. She never fully acknowledged it because that would mean admitting she cared, that she was weak. But she couldn't help it. She lived life forever looking over her shoulder, so wrapped up in what ifs that she could barely stomach what was, forever worrying that anyone would think it was true. Maybe it was true. Her self-perception contorts and convulses, until she feels strangely formless. But that was the beauty of the moment: hidden away in the dim light of the kitchen, with only Lockwood and God as her witness, she could be anything and everything.

Her hand trembles with repressed emotion. He steadies her by carefully covering it with his own.

And for one beautiful, transcendent moment, she thought she might love him.

She walks home in a pleasant haze, her senses enjoying the reprieve from their constant assault. She ambles by a florist, and she sees a rose. It reminds her of Lockwood. She buys the rose and takes it home, even though she knows she doesn't have a vase for it. Even after a day filled with the most fun she'd had in a while, a restlessness troubles her, making her feel feverish with some invisible affliction. She plucks the translucent petals one by one, holding them up to the setting sun streaming through her windows. She wonders what they would look like in his hair. She winces when one of the thorns break the skin of her thumb. She rubs the smear of blood onto her bottom lip. Looking up at the ceiling, her hair a mess, tangled with the rose petals strewn all over her wrinkled sheets, she realises what it means to be hopelessly and cluelessly lovesick.

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

She remembers the first time she cries in front of him. They were on a case at some billionaire's acres-large manor. She ducks under the tape cordoning off the area and freezes, seeing reporters unobtrusively yet steadily setting up their cameras. There had to be some sort of mistake, they're never here this early. Certainly not before they've even started the job. She feels her senses heighten and a faint buzzing teases her ears. She sees Lockwood glance at her and start walking towards her, and she all but flees in the other direction.

She stays a safe distance away from him until the rest of the agents arrive for their briefing. The billionaire's assistant hadn't arrived yet, so they were standing around one of the outdoor picnic tables in the front garden...right in front of the gathering sea of reporters. She tries her best to pay attention but there's a muffled quality to the discussion as she listens for shutter sounds, real or imagined. Her hands grow clammy and her breathing grows jagged as the ominous feeling in her stomach grows. Something very bad was going to happen and it was going to happen soon, she was sure of it.

As if in slow motion, she watches Lockwood reach across to pick up a file from the table beside her on the table, and she feels her panic reach a crescendo as she senses the ripple of excitement in the press. She flinches so badly before he completes the movement that he gets startled, backing away. The question dies on his lips as she walks away, clumsily adjusting her rapier to give her hands something to do. To stop herself from sobbing over the lenses in her peripheral vision.

The press are just as ruthless as they were the last time she made the mistake of not leaving the scene as soon as she had the chance. And still from the chorus of overlapping voices, one made her heart stop dead.

"Y/N L/N, what do you have to say for seducing London's most eligible bachelor?"

She looks around desperately, struggling against waves of despair that threatened to drag her down into the abyss. No one was safe, not even charismatic Lockwood, and it was all her fault for dragging him into her messy life. It wasn’t fair that news agencies chose her life to screw with. She loved him silly with bruised eyes and an aching liver, but she couldn't even look at him properly. She couldn't scrub the image of Lockwood's face from her mind. Hot shame spread from her spine up her neck, an unpleasant prickling sensation. She felt flayed and grotesque, a hundred different kinds of twisted and messed up. Promiscuous on paper, manic in reality, enraptured by what she could never have.

Lockwood finds her sitting on the patchy grass of the backyard, head resting against the wall with suspiciously red eyes. He thinks for a moment before sitting down next to her.

“Hey.”

She’s too busy holding back tears to respond. She despairs internally when she first hears his voice, wishing he didn't care enough about her to follow her. God, they were going to make her pay for this tomorrow. He speaks in a low, soothing voice, but there's an underlying disquiet that comforts her. She'd never have imagined him to feel rattled by the press like she did.

"It all happened so quick, even George didn't realise."

"Doesn't matter. They got what they wanted."

"We'll talk to the assistant as soon as she gets here. We'll refuse to work until they clear out."

She feels an overwhelming amount of relief, not just for his help, but just for him. Sitting here solidly, away from prying eyes, rumours and lies, he felt like a precious secret she wanted to keep. The relief doesn't last long until it gets poisoned into grief. She rasps out an apology.

"I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"Everything." She feels herself shutting down, unravelling at the seams. But then there's this warmth next to her and a solid, reassuring weight across her shoulders. She shakes with mostly silent sobs, not realising that she's crumpled his shirt from clenching it until later. She sniffles into his shirt like a child, and clings to him with the desperation of a drowning man.

He insists that she sits out for the case, and for once, she listens.

The next time they meet is a little bittersweet. She tells him she's being posted outside of London for a month. It's sobering news, even for him.

"A whole month. Well, it'll go by faster than you realise."

"I hope so."

"How're you feeling?"

"Nervous, I suppose." She was dreading it. She didn't know how she ever worked on a case before Lockwood. At first, she thought it was simply because he took attention from the press off her hands. But there was just something about his presence that made the tension coiled in her body unwind. She tries to keep her tone light, but something must have shown on her face because he sighs and throws an arm over her shoulder, steering her away from the crowd of agents, medics and reporters.

"Don't fret. You'll be fine, trust me. You'll have your teammates with you, Barnes is supervising and you know he can't stand the press, and I've yet to read a headline vicious enough to knock you down for good. You're stronger than you realise, you know." She nods glumly, dragging her feet along. She looks up when he pulls away slightly, frowning at her face. He rubs at the furrow in her brow and she feels her face heat up.

"I said to not fret. You have everything you need." That earns him a weak smile, and though he doesn't look entirely happy with it, he can see George looking around for him. She watches him walk back as he mouths 'one month' to her, trying to smile encouragingly. The sun has started to rise, and the dusk casts a soft purple glow on his hair. She mumbles her response to the wind.

"What if...all I need is you?"

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

The month drags by painfully, but it finally ends. She packs her bags and takes the first train to London, just in time to join Lockwood for a case after a bit of begging at Barnes' feet. The job is at another mansion, but somehow even more extravagant and sprawling than the last one. It's bathed in a soft bubblegum pink glow, spilling out into its lawns and hedges and fountains.

She watches him explaining something to one of her colleagues, making some light sketches on the report. He looks exactly the same if a little haggard, yet older somehow, and it tugs at her heart. She had heard that this was supposed to be the last of a particularly tedious string of connected cases, and it had clearly taken a toll on him. Her heart skips a beat at the boyish glow that washes over his features when he sees her.

"...and for the Limbless George was sa- you weren't supposed to be back till Sunday!"

She flushes, beaming excitedly. Part of her wants to hug him, but another part is too scared to, so she contends with her smile.

"We finished early, and I wore Barnes down eventually. Now, what's this about a Limbless?"

The case goes more than smoothly with the extra help of her and her team, and they end up finishing comfortably before midnight, though not without a few minor mishaps. She finds Lockwood with his sleeves and trousers rolled up, dangling his legs in the pool, scrubbing at his hands.

"Wet cement," he grunts as a greeting, looking peevishly at the not-so-clearly cordoned off patch of wet cement. "Ought to have told us. Someone could have gotten properly injured."

"Oh, who'd be silly enough to fall into that?"

"Let me rephrase that: Quill Kipps could have gotten properly injured."

She laughs, turning to add her own handprint next to his in the cement. She smiles coyly as she tenderly scrapes the residue of her palm. He leans in, then stops, sniffing curiously.

"Is that...smoke?"

"Had a bit of an incident with a salt bomb. Someone threw it in the wrong direction."

"Ah."

They're interrupted by a loud whoop from the other end of the pool. A couple of Fittes boys had broken into the liquor cabinet and were now the proud owners of three preciously high-end bottles of champagne. She tried to look at them reprovingly, but couldn't find it in her.

"Oh well. We'll put that down under property damage."

One of her teammates scurried over to clarify a discrepancy in her paperwork, and she leaves to sort it out. By the time she's back, Lockwood's tie is loosened and he's swaying along to some invisible music.

"Y/N! You've got to try some of this stuff, it's grrrreat!"

She shakes her head bemusedly. "Lockwood. How many glasses have you had?"

"Oh, just one." He blinks at the glass in his hand. "One and a half." He drags her in briefly, whispering into her ear. "Besides, what happened to being young?"

Her heart hammers as soon as she feels the tug on her wrist; she's never even touched him in public before. She scans the scene reflexively, but no one seems to have noticed. She supposed getting drunk and making ill-thought-out decisions was the youngest she could be, so she decided to have a little sip.

"Clink?"

"I don't think you're supposed to say it."

He makes a face, clearly more tipsy than he was letting on. "Whatever. I'm saying it."

Still, she humours him, and he looks at her with shameless adoration. Even while well on the way to getting drunk, there was an endearing tilt to his swagger and rosy cheeks that made his youth a delectable luxury. She takes a sip, then another, and then tries to drown herself in champagne, anything to distract her from the way he stole her breath, the fizz electric under her thrumming skin.

They return to where they were sitting earlier, watching some of the more boisterous agents splash into the pool. Someone manages to switch off the harsh floodlights overlooking the pool, washing everyone's outlines with a tangerine glow from the orange neon lights. They talk about their month apart, then catch the eye of the other in a way that makes them both look away, and the cycle repeats.

"I've missed you."

She can't tell which of them says it first, only that the yearning in her voice mirrored his. The look in his eyes scares her yet appeals to her daring all at once. He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't have to.

"We...I...couldn't. It'd go horribly wrong, and you'd hate me, or they'd double down and it'd blow up in your pretty face."

"I'll take my chances." He says it so casually that it stings.

"This isn't exactly bearable for me either, you know."

The background noise fades away, and suddenly speaking at normal volume is too loud. She whispers, as if he might not hear if she's soft enough. "You give me your bed and twist your neck dozing in an armchair. You stick up for me when I'm too weak to stick up for myself. You pull me in when I'm breaking down and hold my fractured pieces together. I can't help but love you." He follows her line of vision to the camera lens peeking through the wall of foliage, not as sneaky as it was trying to be.

"And if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were in love with me."

He inhales roughly, and she recognises his unsteady breathing.

"Are you...?" Lockwood's voice makes her tear her eyes away from the lens, and focus on his soft brown tired eyes.

"...Might as well. Right?" She tries to hide how badly she needs his acknowledgement. He searches for something in her eyes she's not sure exists. Her heart is in her mouth as he tenderly covers her hand, and suddenly she's sitting at the kitchen table at Portland Row again; unsure and raw and hoping against hope for a love like his. He strokes the back of her hand with him thumb, deep in thought, as if soothing her, or maybe telling her to stop, breathe and think about this horrible decision.

"They'll publish the most horrible things tomorrow."

"I thought that didn't matter."

"Not to me. But it does for you."

"It's worth it. You're worth it."

He closes his eyes, and she watches his eyes shift restlessly behind his eyelids, as if fighting a losing battle. "They'll give you hell for it."

She whispers into his mouth. "Damned if I do, damned if I don't. They're watching either way."

His lips twitch. Her eyes flutter close. She inhales the space between them, their noses softly bumping against each other as they tilt their heads.

Slut.

She leans into him and her lips part as he deepens the kiss. She feels the tangerine neon light burn into the expanse of her exposed skin from her neck to her shoulder.

Slut.

She feels a hand on her lower back as she wraps an arm around his neck, craning her neck upwards. The kiss is equally delicious and bruising, and she feels herself getting drunk on his touch.

Slut.

The pressure on her lips fade and he pulls away, giving her the choice to back out. In the span of a second he shifts from a hazy sunset to the deep aquamarine pool in front of them, and then she's leaning in and devouring him like they could never be close enough.

Slut.

Her mind holds the whisper like a promise.

#fanfiction #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood imagine #fanfic #lockwood and co netflix #lockwood x y/n #taylor swift #taylor swift 1989 #1989 taylor's version #1989 tv #1989 #slut! taylor’s version #slut!

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yangbbokari · 6 months

Text

Maknae Line!Skz stood you up on a date

Pairing: Maknae Line!skz x gn!reader Genre: Angst, fluff/comfort, idk Warnings: Nothing much but maybe a little cursing and mentions of insecurities Song rec: Fine - Taeyeon A.N: Requested by 🧈anon, sry this took so long😭 on top of being a student, I just procasinate a lot. Will this have a part 2? idk but we'll c

HAN JISUNG Jisung said that he reserved an expensive restaurant for the two of you to enjoy. But maybe you misheard it and he said for only you to enjoy. Sure you could say it's being too dramatic since he's only late for about thirty minutes. You would like to say that too. If he didn't leave you sitting at a restaurant ordering random plates to await his arrival for two hours. You were getting impatient. You couldn't sit here for much longer or you'd be kicked out. Five minutes, you said. If he didn't show up in the next five minutes, you'd leave.

Spoiler alert, much to your dissappointment, he didn't show up. So you had to pay for the dinner and leave a tip as a "sorry for wasting your time." It ticked you off. For the first time since he got back from tour, this was the date. But he couldn't even show up. It absolutely pissed you off. As you were leaving the restaurant, you got a text. Looking at your phonescreen, it read, Hanji💞

"Sorry I couldn't make it, Bubs."

ping

"I'll make it up to you."

ping

"LOVE YOU😘"

You felt the tears well up in your eyes. This was suppose to be a makeup date. So why were you now walking home in the rain? The soft pitter patter of the rain was doing a good job of covering the sounds of your shattering heart and ugly sobs. All the efforts you put into this date for it not to work out. You even went shopping for a dress just for this occassion. Now it's drenched from the rain.

When you finally got home, it was dark. "Guess he's not home yet." You thought out loud. Suddenly the lights came on and Jisung came from behind the couch.

"Surprise!" He shouted with a cake in his hands. His jolly behavior instantly switched to worry when he saw you in your condition. "B-baby, what's wrong."

Bursting into tears, you crouched down and covered your face with your hands. He also crouched down and held your face, making you look up at him.

"I'm sorry, Bubs. Don't cry."

"I thought- I thought that you didn't care about me anymore. Like you forgot me. O-or you possibly didn't love me anymore."

He looked at you guiltily, knowing he's the reason you felt this way. He felt so bad. So he gently place an arm below your knees and the other around your shoulders. Slowly lifting you up and carrying you over to the restroom.

"Ji! What are you doing!?"

He just shot you a fond yet cheeky smile. Gently removing your articles of clothing. "Jisung... w-wait."

"I gotta make it up to my baby girl somehow." Then he lifted you into the tub. "What were you thinking, Love? What did you think I was gonna do to you?"

Your cheeks flushed a bright pink. "N-nothing!" He chuckled and kissed your temple. "If I was gonna do that, I would've taken you to the bedroom. Don't you think?" No doubt, your ears were most definitely red now. "Whatever..." You mumbled as Jisung filled the tub with warm water. "What was that? I didn't hear you." He teased.

You just crossed your arms and ignored him. Even though, secretly inside, you were more than content with this new memory you'd be holding dear for the rest of your life. ~~~ LEE FELIX Today, you and Felix were supposed to have a home date. A little baking session for the two of you. You went out and bought all the ingredients that were missing. Even though you usually had all of them because of how much the both of you loved to bake.

Except on this date, Felix was running a little late. If he couldn't make it then he would've found some kind of way to inform you. But you haven't got a single text or call from him in the past hour and a half.

You stayed up for a couple of hours waiting for him. It was already half past midnight and sleep was beginning to take over. With a heavy sigh, you headed to bed. But when you got there, you couldn't fall asleep.

All through the night, you twisted and turned and even counted sheep. You couldn't fall asleep though.

When you lost all hope, you heard Felix tiptoe to the bedroom door and silently slip into bed. You pretended to be sleeping, not wanting to worry him. It wasn't long before he fell asleep and that's when you arose. You could smell the foul odor of alcohol on your boyfriend and it made you- Well not exactly upset but disappointed.

After grabbing your phone off the nightstand, you made your way to the guest bedroom. The time read, 3:48 a.m. You cried to your heart's content. He'd leave you second-guessing yourself just to turn up drunk. It wasn't until the sun rose that you finally fell asleep.

Felix woke up with his head banging from all sides. He knew he shouldn't have drank that much last night. But that was the least of his concerns. You weren't lying beside him. Where'd you go? His mind changed when he saw the time though. It was nearly afternoon.

He got up to get himself coffee when he saw the baking ingredients and utensils scattered everywhere. Fuck, he cursed himself. That's why you weren't there.

"Y/n?" Felix called out. If you were mad at him you'd sleep anywhere but your shared bedroom. So he figured that you'd be in the guestroom.

When he made it there, you were still out like a light. He gently laid down beside you and wrapped his arms around you. This motion woke you up and you almost leaned into his touch. But remembering why you slept here in the first place, made you scoot away. Felix didn't let you get away though. He only pulled you closer and held you tighter.

"Why weren't you by my side this morning? Why are you sleeping in the guestroom?"

Silence.

"I woke up in a cold bed."

Silence.

"Are you just going to ignore me?"

Silence.

Felix nuzzled his nose into your neck. This would usually make you laugh but in these circumstances, you were too disappointed to. Your boyfriend softly sighed.

"I'm sorry, Love. I know, I know I was supposed to have a date with you last night. But I was dumb and I forgot. I went out drinking instead. Then I left you at home, worried that I got into some kind of trouble. I'm sorry that I upset you. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

You turned around to face him. "I'm not upset. Just disappointed." You placed your face on his chest. Your boyfriend could feel the tears dampen his shirt.

"I know, Love. I'm sorry." Felix gently rocked you until you both eventually fell back asleep.

When the two of you awoke, he definitely made it up to you. You finally had the date you'd been waiting for.

"You're not allowed to stand me up on a date again."

"Yes m'lady." He said as he bowed.

You softly chuckled. One step backwards and two steps forward. That's the positive version of the phrase and you'd like to keep it that way. ~~~ KIM SEUNGMIN According to your Bumble date, he wanted to meet at 11:00 a.m. sharp at the small cafe by the amusement park. So where was he when it's already 2:00 p.m.? You thought you were running late when you showed up at 12 instead of 11. But he's not even here yet. For context, he's Kim Seungmin, age 23, and a hotshot. Were you being impatient? No. You've been waiting for two hours.

But then you began to overthink. What if he already left because you arrived late and he probably thought you stood him up. No way... right? Time was ticking away and before you knew it, it was almost already 4. You decided to leave before one of the workers got fed up with you ordering coffee after coffee.

Well considering that you were already here, might as well go to the amusement park.

As you turned down the road you felt a hand gently grasp your wrist. You turned around in shock. There Seungmin stood with a guilty smile. You were a bit confused. He just so happened to appear as soon as you were ready to leave.

"Umm... hey." He said nervously. "Oh, sorry!" Seungmin dropped your hand and nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "I was supposed to come sooner but I completely forgot. Actually, no! That makes me sound stupid. I was just really nervous."

You just stood there, not sure of what to say. "Okay..." You held out the last syllable.

"Shit. Fuck. Sorry. I'm leaving a really bad impression on you, aren't I." He awkwardly chuckled before continuing. "What I meant to say was, I was too shy to meet you. Umm... I worked really hard on my look. I even got a haircut. The outfit! I spent a lot of time choosing it. I wasn't sure what you liked. When I was done, I saw that I was running late but I still had to drive for an hour. When I got here, I was so sure that you left because what kind of asshole leaves their date alone for 3 hours. But when I saw you still waiting for me I got nervous again because you look stunning. Then I felt like I didn't look good enough and all the time and effort I put into my look couldn't compare to yours. So I was stuck in my car contemplating why I thought I could come. But then I saw you leaving and you were too good to lose. So I chased after you and here we are. I must be talking too much, especially about myself. And you must think I'm a klutz or something."

Seungmin slowly looked up at you. "Sorry, I've been rambling. Do I... seem like a klutz to you?"

And here you were thinking that it was you. You began to chuckle, nodding your head. His face dropped.

"Oh God... am I really that bad?"

You shook your head. "No. In fact, you're everything I've been searching for. Who would ever think a good-looking guy like yourself would get this nervous meeting a girl for the first time?"

"Oh." He said stunned, making you laugh more.

"Well would you like to make it up to me instead of standing here looking so clueless?"

Seungmin immediately nodded his head. He was quite the guy considering his looks.

"Then take me to the amusement park up the road and I'll forgive you."

Safe to say, he was an amazing guy and an amazing date. The two of you were only able to enjoy for about three hours but it was enough for you to know,

"I'll love him for the rest of my life." ~~~ YANG JEONGIN After putting on your finishing touches of makeup, you were ready to head out the door. You had already calculated. Taking the bus there would take about thirty minutes so you need to get going before 12:30 because Jeongin wanted to meet by 1 o'clock.

When you arrived, you were only waiting for about five minutes when you got a text from him.

"Sorry"

"Can't come."

"I'll make it up to you later."

"Promise🤞🏻"

You sighed and texted back,

"Ok👌🏻"

It wasn't like Jeongin to cancel on a date. But you already put all this effort into showing up, maybe you should just roam around a bit. Just as you were about to leave, you got another text.

"Okay, now I feel bad especially since we haven't been on a date in forever😞"

The text made you chuckle a bit.

"It's fine Innie😭"

"No it's not😡"

You couldn't stop laughing to yourself as you read the messages. Your boyfriend only continued to send more texts, feeling the need to explain himself.

"Now, I didn't want to cancel the date."

ping

"But I have a bit of a problem.🤏🏻"

ping

"Well maybe not a bit."

ping

"More like 7 problems.🙄"

ping

*attachment sent*

It was a photo of the boys following Jeongin around. Trying to get intel on this date of his. Of course they'd want to know who their maknae was dating. They were all wearing funny disguises and trying to hide themselves every time Jeongin took a photo. Bang Chan would try to hide behind a lamppost or a wall. Hyunjin pretending to read a newspaper. Changbin, for some reason, pretended to work out in the middle of the street. Minho pretended to walk one of his cats as if he wasn't holding Soonie in his arms the whole time. The rest of them dressed as ahjummas and turned to talk in a group like they aren't following Jeongin. Jeongin had a little pout on his face.

ping

"These dodo birds won't stop following me🤢🤬 and I don't want to get you involved.😞"

The people around you probably thought you were crazy. You were full on losing your shit as you viewed the photos.

"I think they just love you, Innie😘🥰😍"

ping

"Because I'm just that good🤧"

"Whatever you say🥱"

ping

"Do you not agree😢"

Then you left him on read.

ping

"HEY!😡"

ping

"I CAN LITERALLY SEE YOU READING THIS😤"

ping

"ANSWER ME!🤬"

Welp. You'll respond when he makes up for the date.

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judysxnd · 11 months

Note

Hi, could we get an imagine where Pedro gets self conscious of the age gap with y/n and had been weird distant with you. Maybe he read an ugly article that said that he was too old for her and didn't really say positive things.

Once you fount out you reassured him and made him feel really love, Idk something fluffy.

Thanks love your writing

I know it’s been little more than a week since I published anything! I’m trying my best! It’s a busy period. And thank you! I hope you like it 😋

——————————————————————————————

You knew that making your relationship go public would be risky. It always is. Living in this world where you are being watched almost 24/7 doesn’t help hiding or keeping anything private. That’s actually what happened with Pedro. You were both seen on the beach one weekend, holding hands and kissing. At first you were both upset, it was a private beach, you were alone, at least you thought you were, but somehow, people knew.

Since this day, it has been tough. Paparazzi were already following both of you before, but now, they are way more, and it’s getting difficult to leave the house. As they are more, they are also very aggressive verbally as they are trying to get any information, especially on the age cap. Yep, this is their main goal, they want to know everything. You are in your late twenties, Pedro in his late forties.

You both knew what would happen, it can be pretty shocking, a big age gap like that. You tried not to think about it, just focusing on your careers and yourselves. But it wasn’t easy denying this part.

Unfortunately, it was harder for Pedro than for you. He has been working very hard to get where he is now, and he doesn’t want anything to jeopardize that. He doesn’t think it will ruin his career or yours, this is the last thing he thought, but it can have consequences psychologically. The harassment, the articles, it’s all they can talk about. Maybe it’s because it’s new, in a few months they will forget about it, but until now, you had to go through it all.

Pedro was on his computer, scrolling through the news when he saw an article about both of you. “Is star Pedro Pascal having a midlife crisis by dating celebrity Y/n L/n?”. He felt a knot in his stomach. He couldn’t stop reading the title. He knew he shouldn’t be reading this, but he couldn’t help. He had to know what they were saying. So he read the article. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard or seen before, but it was being repeated so much that he was starting to believe it. Was he really too old for Y/n? Was he just distracting himself? Did he deserve you? He suddenly got overwhelmed with thousands of questions, but was interrupted when you got home.

“Hi baby” you joyfully said as you entered the kitchen where Pedro was. He quickly closed his computer, putting a small smile on his face.

“Hey” he simply said. You started to walk towards him, but he got up, holding his computer to put it on the table in the living room. You were confused. You waited a few seconds for him to come back, but when he didn’t, you went in the living room.

“Are you okay?” He was sitting on the couch, going through his jacket to find his cigarettes.

“Y-yeah, I’m just a little tired. I’m smoking one and I think I’ll go lay down”

“Do you need anything? I can make you some tea, if you need medication I have some” you said, getting closer to him, touching his arm.

“I’m good thank you” he said, barely looking at you as he stepped outside, lighting his cigarette. He sat down on the couch, arms crossed, wondering what was going on with him.

You decided to let go for the day, maybe he was just really tired. Unfortunately, next morning, you woke up to an empty bed, even an empty house. He simply texted you that he had to go to set really early this morning, and that he will probably be home late too. There was definitely something going on. Even during the night, he didn’t stay close to you as he usually does.

That’s when you remembered. His computer. He closed it very quickly and tried to put it away from you as soon as you got home. You need to find it. You went to the living room where you last saw it, nothing, there was only yours. You checked all the drawers in the bedroom, nothing. He wouldn’t have taken it with him, he never takes his computer on set with him. You checked all the places in the house, even in the bathroom.

“Come on!” You yelled, getting very upset. You had some emails to check on your own computer, so you grabbed yours that was in the living room. When you opened it, there was a page open. It was an article about you. “What the hell?”

You didn’t remember looking at anything on internet, but it was possible you did. When you opened your mail, you realized that it wasn’t your computer, it was Pedro’s. Ironically, you both have the same computer, and he must have grabbed yours instead of his. You went back to the article, and read it. You felt awful. How could people say that about him? There is so much more about him, and about your relationship. They don’t know anything. More upset than before, you closed the computer, grabbed your keys and left the house.

A few hours later, you arrived on the set where Pedro was filming these days. After being guided by an assistant, you arrived to the latest room where they were filming. You saw Pedro on his phone, sitting in his chair, focused. He was alone, except from a few people re arranging the set.

“Pedro” you called him, as you were behind him. He got a little bit scared, and quickly turned around.

“Y/n? What are you doing here so late?”

“Well, you texted that you were finishing late, so I thought you might not have time to eat, so.. I grabbed your favorite food” you said, showing the big brown bag you were holding in your right hand. You could tell that he was nervous. “Also, I wanted to talk to you” he simply looked at you and nodded.

“Let’s go to my trailer” you smiled and followed him.

After setting the food the table, Pedro started to eat, but you didn’t.

“You know I love you right?” You simply said out of the blue. His mouth full, Pedro looked at you, nodding. “I saw the article on your computer” you said grabbing some fries. Now he was confused, and frowned. “You took my computer instead of yours” you smiled. “I know we basically agreed not to be official, but it happened without our consent, but now it’s done, and.. and we knew what would happen.. we don’t have the choice to live with it, but we have the choice to ignore it” you stared at him “it’s not true what they say, and we both know it”

“I know” he said “but it’s just.. they say it so much, so many people are saying it, there has to be some truth in it if so many people think the same thing” you hold his hand

“No! They just don’t understand. That’s their job to say shit like that. It doesn’t mean it’s true. Don’t doubt yourself, us, we are real, this is true” you said putting your right hand on his cheek, still holding his left hand.

“I’m sorry”

“Don’t be. It’s completely normal. Remember how I felt when the article about me being pregnant got published a year ago? Just because I gained a little?” You both laughed “it’s not true. They only see two people with different ages loving each other and it’s scaring the shit out of them”

“I love you so much” you both smiled. Pedro started to lean in to kiss you. “I don’t know what I would do without you” he whispered right before kissing you passionately.

“And I love you more” you said after you parted “but now let’s eat because I’m starving and it’s getting cold” you both laughed and went back to your food.

You finished eating, and stayed with Pedro as he finished filming what he had to for the day, and got home with him. You both slept better, cuddled up, like you usually do.

#pedro pascal #fanfic #imagine #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #oneshot #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal preferences #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x y/n

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vixentheplanet · 10 months

Text

illicit nights

“a little less conversation and a little more touch my body.”

shuri x black!reader | 18+

Summary: You were born and raised in Wakanda, but you chose to leave to pursue a modeling career. You've amassed global fame as an international model, gracing runway shows, featuring in luxury campaigns, and appearing in fashion magazines. You're in the spotlight, and the entire world is watching your every move. After a very public breakup, you decide to return home to reconnect with your country and the people you love.

You didn't expect to catch the attention of your sister's best friend in your attempt to get over your heartbreak, let alone end up in a private sexual relationship with said friend. The Wakandan Queen.

word count: 5.9k

themes: model/famous reader, queen shuri, childhood friends, hookups

warnings: sex, drinking, idk i forget y’all read this before

hi! 🤧😔 this is actually kinda hard because i never title my stories in the documents and i make copies when i’m editing in case i delete something and i want it so i’m going through so many documents to find the right one and then all the outfits are gone. i can’t remember the themes and warnings i put… anyways, y’all good sister is back up

When you decided not to attend Wakanda University to pursue a modeling career, you did not doubt that you would succeed. Your parents wanted you to follow in the footsteps of your elder sister, but subjects like physics and calculus never piqued your interest. There was a lot of debate regarding your decisions, especially when you told your family that you were leaving Wakanda. Many Wakandans live beyond the borders, but you weren't looking for a simple life.

You were blessed with breathtaking beauty and the qualities for which others were willing to pay millions. It's hardly surprising with a face like yours, in just a few years, your career has skyrocketed to unfathomable heights, catapulting you into worldwide fame. Every fashion week, you're on the runway, traveling worldwide for campaigns, fittings, and numerous billboards of your face.

While you like the acclaim and spotlight, you quickly learn that being such a public figure in the entertainment industry has drawbacks. You have been in a highly publicized relationship with actress Mya Hope for nearly two years. Maybe it was your naivety, being new to everyone, but you and Mya hit it off immediately. It was lovely initially, but as your relationship progressed, it was just continuous disputes, mistrust, and resentment. You endured it because you expected things to change one day, but then Mya cheated. You learned through a gossip article that several individuals provided you with via text and social media.

Because her infidelity provided concrete evidence that things weren't working out between the two of you, you broke up. It was awful after the public found out. You've had relationships in the past, but they were the silly childlike attachments all kids have as time passes. Nothing has ever been this long or public. Being followed around and pressured into making a statement about something so personal was a culture shock. Who in their right mind wants to expose their private grievances to the rest of the world?

This month was an emotional roller coaster, and after wrapping up a photo shoot for Dior's upcoming campaign, you instructed your manager not to arrange anything else. You needed some alone time and wanted to go home and rest away from everything and everyone—home, not LA.

With the help of your older sister, Izara, by the end of the week, you'll be back in the safety of your rightful home, Wakanda.

Your mother never approved of Mya, and despite your best efforts to keep your family informed, she had kept up with your activities in your work through Western media, including your relationship. You guessed it was because she was afraid you'd end up permanently residing outside of Wakanda, but maybe mother intuition told her the relationship wasn’t right for her daughter.

When you arrived at the house where you'd grown up and rushed back to your mother's arms, she didn't criticize or tell you that you should have listened. "I expected you to say I told you so." You inform her.

"A mother can only guide her child and hope that they will listen, but it's our responsibility to be here when you fall," she adds as she pulls you tight.

The next day, your sister comes over first thing in the morning. Izara was four years older than you. You two were close; she was your elder sibling, and you naturally respected her intelligence and accomplishments. However, as you matured, you came to see that you had different interests despite your shared affection for one another. While Izara excelled at technology and engineering, you discovered a love of fashion and beauty. You loved your nation and knew you could build a successful career in Wakanda once you found you wanted to be a model, but you wanted to be known worldwide.

Being the baby of the family, it was difficult for your family to accept that you were going, but they realized deep down that there wasn't much they could do to influence you or your choices. As they witnessed your success, your family became increasingly supportive and proud. The only disadvantage is that your career has kept you away from Wakanda and the people you care about. It was challenging to find time to return home while growing your profession. You weren't worried about taking time off now that you were in a secured position in the industry.

“What are you moving back in?” Your sister makes a joke about all the things you brought. One packing rule you had was that it was better to be cautious than sorry. You’d rather overpack than need something thousands of miles away. After all, you didn't arrive by plane. A Wakandan aircraft had no weight restrictions.

Your mother is quick to reprimand her. “Hush. My child is always welcome to come back.”

“I- I don’t know about moving back yet,” You admit, dismissing any thoughts your mother has about you moving in. "But, I'll be here a little while." Though you did not intend to stay in Wakanda indefinitely, you weren't in a hurry to go. The combination of fresh air and your mom's homemade pastries positively impacted your mood.

Later, you and your sister relaxed in the living room while your mother was in the kitchen. She was so excited to see both of her daughters under the same roof after such a long period that she rushed to prepare tea and lime cake. Your favorites. “No moping. Your sadness is going to make me sad,” Izara says, frowning at you.

"I'm not moping," you say with a sigh. “It wasn’t even going to last. We fought a lot. I knew I was unhappy, but all the attention was overwhelming. It simply has to blow over." Your sister was the only person who understood the ins and outs of your previous relationship. She was your closest confidante and had warned you to leave Mya so often that she was probably exhausted by how stubborn you were.

Izara hums understandingly. “Don’t worry. It will. Those silly foreigners will find something else trivial and pointless to focus on. In the meantime, you need to be out and enjoy being single.” She advises. “Like, when’s the last time you had sex?”

“Izara, shut up,” there’s a warning in your tone. You confided in your sister about many things, but that was where you drew the line. She didn't need to know what you did, and you didn’t need to know what she did. Though the question did make you think, it’s been over a month since the initial break up, and you and Mya had long stopped being intimate. The passion just wasn’t there.

Izara is always persistent and keeps talking. “What! We’re both grown. We can talk about that now.”

“Absolutely not.” You groan, deciding to change the conversation to focus on your sister, “How is work?” She’d recently been promoted at her job working in the laboratory at the palace. She had called to tell you, but you had been in the midst of a photoshoot. Part of you felt bad you couldn’t give her your full attention upon hearing the news.

As the director of research methodologies, she spent a great deal of time in the various villages conducting focus groups to determine where improvements were needed. She then brought the data back to the lab, where they worked to enhance the areas that needed it. “It's incredible. I feel good knowing that my work has a positive influence.” Your sister has always been active in the community, dedicating her life to helping others.

“That’s amazing, Izara. I’m proud of you.” You say because you genuinely are, even though you didn’t take after your sister and her love for science. Her drive and passion are admirable. “It’s okay. It’s your job not to be fucked up so I can be the rebellious one.”

That gets a laugh out of your sister. You’ve missed that sound. “Not to brag, but I’ve been considering returning to University for my Ph.D.. Shuri is encouraging me.”

Shuri. Since childhood, the Princess, now Queen of Wakanda, was your sister's best friend. They attended the same primary school and connected instantly. You recall when Izara snuck Shuri into your home for a playdate, unbeknownst to your mother and the King and Queen. The Dora Milaje arrived at your mother's home with spears in hand before learning that the mischievous princess had sneaked away to play with her new companion. Your cheeks rise as you recall that day. "There's that smile again!"

“Just remember the time you almost got our entire family executed.” You chuckle, and Izara groans. She hates this story.

“We didn’t know any better!” After that day, Queen Ramonda invited your sister to the palace to play to prevent any other misunderstandings. Shuri would occasionally come to your house, allowing the two girls to form a lasting bond. “You had the biggest crush on her. You used to follow us around whenever she’d come over,” Izara added, laughing as if it was the funniest thing in the world.

For the record, it was a brief crush. The wooden doll house you had collapsed a few weeks before your seventh birthday, and you cried all night about it. Shuri presented you with a fully equipped doll house for your birthday. You recall looking on with wide eyes as she demonstrated all of the functions, the lights switched on, and water poured out of the sink. Still, you'd never acknowledge it. “I did not have a crush on her. I was following you. I wanted to be just like you until I realized how boring you were.” You snickered. A look of disbelief crosses your sister's face, and you laugh harder.

"I should thank Shuri," you say once you've quieted down. When you told Izara you were planning to return home, she enlisted the assistance of her best friend, who made every effort to ensure your safe arrival. You're not sure you could have endured another moment amid the chaos.

“You should, and she would love to see you.” Your sister agrees. “I have to go to the office tomorrow. Actually, we can stop over there, and then we can go to the shops. I have to buy Aneka a birthday gift.” Aneka, another one of your sister's friends. She had such a bold personality but was always kind to you. “Oh, and you’re coming Saturday.”

"I-" you start, thinking for a moment. There's no justification for you staying at home, feeling miserable over a failed relationship that wasn't going anywhere. It's been a little more than a month, and you're supposed to be unwinding and having fun. Izara squeals and orders you to be prepared by an ungodly hour after you accept.

You and your sister traveled to Birnin Zana the following day. You knew the Golden City but had never been within the Citadel. While your sister is likely to be familiar with both the interior and outside of the high-rise glass tower, you have never stepped foot inside. With all the Dora Milaje present, it was a little intimidating, and you did your best to keep up with your sister in your heels. As Izara was a few steps ahead of you, someone you imagined was a staff member gave you a strange look. “Stop walking so fast.”

Izara ignores your request and keeps moving. "No one told you you had to wear those shoes." She lets you catch up by coming to a halt in front of an elevator.

“It’s not the shoes. It’s you.” You argue, coming up to her as you wait for the elevator.

As you rode the elevator, your thoughts turned to the new Queen. Several years have passed since your last interaction with her. Shuri had always impressed you with her intelligence, and she was extraordinarily strategic and visionary. She undoubtedly carried those attributes with her when she ascended to the throne.

“I didn't tell her you were coming. She’s going to be so surprised.” Izara scans her badge and enters the lab. You follow behind her. “Shuri, I have the file you asked for; sorry, I was reviewing it over to make sure we caught all the errors from the last trial and-”

Shuri had looked up when she heard your sister's voice, but you saw her eyes widen in your presence. “Y/N?” You watch as she blinks a few times, taking you in.

Shuri’s hair was short now, the sides shaved, and her hair coiled into a mohawk. She wore a light gray boiler suit. Truth be told, you did have a crush on Shuri when you were younger but grew out of it. It was the projection of a childish imagination. It faded with time and age as you ventured away from your sister and developed your own relationship with friends, no longer in the same space as the Wakandan Princess. But now, she looks good, very good.

“Hi,” you say, happy to see another familiar face. After being surrounded by strangers and new faces for the past few years, the familiarity of home was comforting. "I appreciate you arranging transportation for me to get here." You instantly tell her, knowing the reason for your visit. You did not intend to disturb her.

Shuri is quick to respond, “Of course, Izara said you wanted to visit. It was no trouble.” It was the honest truth. You know Shuri would do anything for your sister and, in relation, you.

Izara smiles, “I’m happy to have my little sister home though I wish it were under better circumstances. I’m trying to cheer her up.” Your sister pinches your cheeks and immediately moves away from reach when you swat her hand away. She might be a little obnoxious. You are not a baby.

“I am not a baby.” You vocalize, rolling your eyes.

"You'll always be my baby," she replies with a childish pout. "Now, wait right here. I’ll be back. I’m going to grab something from my office.” Izara says as she walks out of the lab, leaving you and Shuri alone.

You begin to appreciate the painting on the cylindrical pillar in the room, assuming you won't bother Shuri anymore, but Shuri speaks. “To what do I owe this visit? Not every day, I have Wakanda’s most famous supermodel walking into my lab,” she jokes.

It’s clear she’s being humorous, but your face heats up. “Oh, I wanted to see you and say thank you. I’m just following Izara around, and we’re going to pick out a birthday gift for Aneka.” You explain, trying to ignore the sensation in your cheeks.

Shuri is now leaning back against one of the tables, completely focused on you. "What did Izara mean when she said 'better circumstances'?" She inquires, her gaze fixed on yours.

She patiently waits. You pause, unsure how much you should reveal. All the arguments and nights of crying make you question if your sister ever mentioned Mya to Shuri. You make the decision to keep things simple. “I’m going through a very public breakup which means nothing to anyone here but everything to the media out there.”

“You know how hard it is to be walking down the street and be harassed with a thousand questions about your ex?” It was a rhetorical question. The media was ruthless and would stop at nothing until they could pull enough out of you to exploit for their own selfish advantage.

Shuri, being the intellect she is, probably realizes you'd rather not discuss this and moves on. "Wakanda, thankfully, does not have such an animalistic journalism system." Culturally, there was a high level of respect and awareness throughout the community that your business was private. Wakanda was far more developed and gave little thought to gossip and drama.

You were thankful for that. Breakups aren’t easy, no matter how shitty the relationship was. External stress wasn’t helping with your mood. You finally felt like you could breathe. “Exactly. Anyways I’m happy to be back.”

“Any plans?” She asks.

You shake your head. “Other than spending time with my family, no.” Further into your stay, you’d probably come up with some type of itinerary, but you were laying low for now. “Izara thinks I should be out enjoying being single.” She or your mom would probably try to set you up sooner or later.

Shuri nods in agreement. “She’s right, you know? There’s no reason to waste time thinking about someone who isn’t thinking about you when you could be having fun.”

The bluntness of Shuri’s words surprises you. “I suppose I’m young. I should be doing what I want with who I want.” You remark in a lighthearted tone.

Shuri glances at you, licking her lips, and winks. "Exactly," she replies. Your heart rate increases. Is she hitting on you?

Izara returns, and you both say goodbye to the Queen before heading to the shops. The brief exchange has left your thoughts in a frenzy. You spent the rest of the day trying to persuade yourself. Shuri was undoubtedly attractive, but there was no way a years-old crush would be rekindled within seconds of seeing her again. A crush you had when you were five at that, but the way her tone held so much suggestion.

Wakanda's nightlife was always lively. People come together, clubbing at the same venue, existing at the same time in the same place. It was an essential aspect of the culture and many people's choice for a social gathering or celebration.

The next night, you're on Elixir's second floor, famed for its massive and powerful alcoholic beverages. Aneka's party had the entire floor to themselves, and she leaped up and down as soon as she noticed you. “Ah! Baby Izara! We see your billboards when we’re on missions outside Wakanda.” She tells you, and you feel shy under all the attention. It was nice to know that the people at home were supportive in seeing you thrive. "Thank you!" You exclaim as you hug her. You said hello to a couple more people before ordering a cocktail and settling in. You're seated alone in one of the many round booths. Your sister and a few others had gone downstairs to join the sea of crowded and sweaty bodies.

You had the idea to go down there. Dance on someone, make an emotionless connection, and return to their apartment, but you know in the back of your mind that it wasn't for you. Impersonal connections lack the comfort of knowing each other's bodies and personalities.

There's quite a commotion at the club's entrance, and you peek down to see all the excitement. Shuri navigated the crowd with a small group of individuals following behind her. The woman was dressed in all black, with form-fitting pants and a tailored blazer—dark shades, shielding her eyes from those around her.

You felt something stirring deep within you the entire time your attention was drawn to her.

The sheer strength and command of her presence divides the crowd. She doesn’t have to ask. Everything about her screams dominance, and you can't deny that you're drawn to it, trying not to let your imagination wander into the illicit territory. This was not a crush. This was pure want. Shuri makes her way up the large metal steps, where she is embraced by the bubbly birthday girl who has had too many drinks. “Shuri! You made it,” Aneka says excitedly. The sweet look Ayo gives her excited girlfriend warms your heart. They're adorable.

Before hugging Aneka, the Queen leans in and says something only she can hear. She fades from view as she moves deeper into the scene, most likely conversing with others. When you see Shuri again, she's walking over to you, drink in hand, her steps purposeful.

She slides into the booth across from you without asking. “I’m surprised you’re not down there dancing. What happened to being young and single?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Please," you retort. "So I can have sweaty men press their balls on my back. Thank you, but no." Your lips were pursed.

“So you came out to sit around?” Shuri comments. “In such a pretty outfit,” she notes. Her eyes are covered behind those black shades, but her statement indicates she's checking you out, taking in the way your boobs sit nicely and the tiny skirt displaying the silky flesh of your upper thigh. There's a trace of something in her voice as if she's coaxing you to reveal more, understanding there's more to your decision to isolate yourself. Again, a tempting tone.

You’re not in the mood for mind games. “You ask a lot of questions. Besides, are you not doing the same thing?” Your voice is laced with skepticism as you eye her.

Shuri lets out a disagreeing sound. “I’m here to celebrate Aneka and enjoy my night.”

If she can tease you, why can’t you do the same? You twirl your tongue around the straw in your drink, and Shuri can’t look away. “Since you’re here with me, am I a part of the enjoyment?”

When your eyes meet, there’s a glint of danger in them. “I think you should behave.” Her tone was low and warning.

If she believed that would get you to listen, she was mistaken. That resulted in the opposite effect, as you felt arousal between your legs. "And what if I don't?" You push, your eyes innocent, as if you had no idea how provocative your tone was. She looked damn good in that suit.

You were putting aside the complication caused by the fact that Shuri was your sister's best friend and the Queen of your country. Something enticed you to make a move on her. You notice the cherry in her glass and immediately say, "I can tie that with my tongue." It was a cool trick you picked up from a model in Cannes. People were always shocked at how simple you made it look before trying it themselves.

Shuri glances at you as she takes the cherry into her mouth instead of answering vocally. The stem is just beyond her lips, and her brows are lifted, waiting for you. You bend across the table, making sure not to brush your lips together as you move the stem from her mouth to yours. She keeps a close eye on you while you concentrate on your task, stretching your tongue upward and trapping it against the roof of your mouth.

You stick your tongue out after pushing the end through the loop, revealing the knotted cherry stem to Shuri. She removes her glasses, folds them, and sets them next to her cherry-free drink. Eyes filled with fire. “Stop looking at me like that.” You could sense a level of hesitation from the woman. Behave wasn't a no; it simply indicated she was attempting to get you to back off since her resolve was slipping.

You roll your eyes as you remove the stem from your tongue and place it on a napkin. “You know you’re practically undressing me with your eyes.” You could see a glimmer of hunger in her features, and you knew you had her right there.

“Mmm, I’m not the one showing off tongue tricks,” Shuri smirks, sipping her drink.

Before you can say anything, a breathless voice breaks the tension between you. “Shuri!” your sister and two of the girls had returned from the dancefloor. “Scoot over. I’m taking a five-minute break.” Izara says. You can see the sweat on her forehead. You start to shift over to make room for everyone, and you’re forced to be pressed against Shuri, depleting the distance.

Upon their arrival, Shuri redirects her attention to her best friend, “Hey, Zar. I was just asking your sister why she wasn’t dancing.” Glancing at you with a smug look, she was enjoying this.

Izara nods, “I told her she needed to get down there and have fun. It’s been five weeks, and the best way to get over someone is to get under someone new.”

As you drum your fingers across the glass table top, a sigh escapes your lips. I’m trying, you think. "I'm not keen on hooking up with strangers," you answer instead. You were discrete with your words. Sneaking a quick look over at Shuri when you say it, you find her already staring back at you. Her expression has now become unreadable.

Izara sighs. Her sole motive for inviting you was for you to have fun; she probably believed you weren't having a great time, but your attention was attracted to something you didn't need to search for. You wouldn’t tell her that, though. "Oh, Bast, you need more liquor." She approaches a waiter and orders a round of shots.

As soon as the waiter places the shot glasses on the table, all eyes turn to you. You reached forward, grabbed one shot, pinched the lime, and tossed back the tequila, promptly sucking the lime between your teeth and dropping it into the empty shot glass. "That's my girl," Izara says, clapping.

The five-minute breaks last a lot longer than five minutes. Your poor sister was utterly unaware that she was cock-blocking. She and Shuri were having a casual conversation about who knows. You weren't paying attention. Maybe she senses you getting restless beside her, but you feel a hand rest on your leg. Shuri continues to converse with Izara while her fingertips brush your left thigh. You let out a sharp, deep breath before composing yourself. The soft touch riles you up. Shuri taunts you by not moving her hand any higher. She rests it there, stroking your skin, knowing it’s driving you crazy.

Shuri is winning this game you're playing together, but you have a plan.

When your sister returns to the main level, she attempts to get you to accompany her, and you make up an excuse, promising to do so after you use the restroom. When you and Shuri are alone again, you slap her hand and glare at her. “You should move your hand if you’re going to start something you can’t finish. I’m not in the mood to be teased.”

As you get up to leave, you grab a second shot, downing it before smiling. It's a mind-numbing high that blocks all of your feelings except lust. "I'll be really upset if this night doesn't end with me in your bed." You whisper, walking away, not bothering to wait for Shuri’s reaction. There was no point in playing games when you wanted her, and she clearly wanted you. That’s why you knew she would follow you.

The bathroom is located down a dim corridor with purple fluorescent lights. You're walking down the hall when you hear quick footsteps behind you. A hand catches your waist, pressing you against a solid body. Away from prying eyes, Shuri holds you against her, moving your hair to expose the side of your neck, “Do you want to dance with me after?” She speaks with hushed tones.

Mission completed.

You shook your head and turned to face her. "I wasn't here to dance." Dancing was a waste of time because neither of you wanted to do it. Every second more you spent in this club was a moment wasted when she could be inside of you.

Shuri paused for a moment, her eyes clouded with longing. "You realize what you're asking of me." Your mind wanders to Izara. All the red flags were flying in your head. This was your sister's closest friend and her most recent boss. Shuri felt off-limits for some reason. But you swiftly block out all of that.

“Don’t complicate things. I wouldn’t be here asking you to bring me home and fuck me in the middle of a club if I didn’t,” you said. You've teased and flirted with the Queen all night, and now nothing stops you from ending the night in bed with her. “No kissing, no intimacy, it’s just sex.” You assure her.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” You gasp as Shuri thrusts back inside, making your body tremble in response. It’s one of the many compliments you’ve given her through the night as she takes you further into euphoric bliss.

Maybe it's because you haven't had sex in what seems like an eternity, but the slide in feels like heaven. The first thrust has you seeing stars, and every move since then has you letting out an endless stream of moans. You were on your knees, Shuri kneeling behind you, going at unrelenting speed.

You're both high on adrenaline and lust, making your body hum and your head spin—sweaty bodies work together as your heartbeats syncopate in a rhythmic acceleration. You can't recall the last time you felt so attuned to another person, so alive.

Her hands are all over you, one of her arms reaching from behind to support your upper body, cupping your chest while her fingers tease your nipple. You figure the mind of a genius is used to focusing on multiple things at once because despite her fast thrust, the fingers on Shuri’s other hand stroke along your clit, gently knowing what you need, where to touch you, and how to touch you.

“Harder, harder- fuck, don’t stop.” You reach around to find Shuri’s hips and hold them, following her movements in an attempt to feel her closer. “Such a bossy girl.” Shuri pants but drives into you with more force.

She eventually removes the arm that has been holding you up and pushing you forward. At this angle, she's hitting the spot inside you that has you unable to speak, trapped in an endless repeat of pleasure as the sensation causes your skin to prickle.

Collapsing onto the bed, you cushion your head on the pillow, and your back arches beautifully. “Fuck Shuri. C-close,” you stutter, your voice weakly coming out between your pants. The way Shuri was easily manipulating your body to take her deeper made you want to scream. "I can't wait to see you come looking for me." Shuri breathes and snaps her hips.

"You're going to look gorgeous." She goes on, talking you through it. "Should take a picture and put it on the front cover of every magazine. Everyone can see how pretty you are when you’re getting fucked so good.”

Shuri's comments fill your head with filthy thoughts, even though you've never considered yourself an exhibitionist. Imagine one of the world's most famous models being railed by the Queen of Wakanda on a magazine cover. You two are certainly an obscene sight. “Should I let everybody see what a good girl you are, or is this only for me?”

"Only you," you answer thoughtlessly. Your mind was only centered on pleasure now. As you inhale sharply, the heat inside of you grows, and your body is frozen in ecstasy. Your eyes slip back as your stomach muscles contract in anticipation of eventually feeling that relief. Your eyes widen, your brows rise, your breath stutters, and your eyes close tightly. So tight, and you’re coming. It's quiet for a few moments, and then you're screaming Shuri's name, your voice breaking, your nails sinking into the covers.

As you move your hips back, little gasps escape your lips. “You’re perfect. It feels so good. Want to keep fucking you.” Her words and tone are desperate as she pants, grinding into you, using the friction and pressure to reach her orgasm. You could get off just from the sound of her moans alone.

When Shuri pulls out, you fall into the satin sheets and turn over, sticky and satisfied, staring at the ceiling. You take a few moments to collect your breath and come down from your climax. You sense the bed shifting as Shuri fades from view.

On shaky legs, you stand up to scan the room for your belongings. There was no need for closeness or caressing. Both of you agreed to just sex, and you needed to get home as soon as possible. Your top is lying right in front of the door. That was the first thing to go.

“I’ll have a member of the Dora escort you home.” Shuri comes back into the room from the bathroom, a tee shirt and boxers on now while you’re still struggling to locate your underwear.

“Are you crazy?” You pull the straps of your top on your shoulders and try to situate your breast inside. “I’m not even supposed to be here.” You whisper-shout. The reality was settling in now that the fire inside you had been put out. Izara would most likely interrogate you in the morning, thinking you went home with someone and you had time to think of a lie once you were home.

“Imagine going to my mother's house with the Dora Milaje. - have you seen my panties?” Her head wanders sideways, and you follow her gaze to discover your underwear on top of the lampshade on the bedside table.

They undoubtedly landed there in her haste to strip you naked. Shuri takes them and hands them to you. "You're so messy," you mutter as you take them from her, leaning down to slip them on.

"You weren't complaining," Shuri chuckles. There goes that smug tone.

Before leaving, you get dressed, put on your heels, and turn to Shuri. “This never happened. I was never here." You're both consenting adults, but having your sister in the mix complicates the situation. It was acceptable for the one time you both received much-needed relief, but it couldn't happen again for the sake of preserving normalcy. The elder remains silent. "Did you hear what I said?"

A confused sound leaves her lips. “I can’t hear anything. I'm here by myself.”

You roll your eyes and walk out the door. That’s the end of that.

When you’re showered in bed and reflecting on tonight‘s activities, it's later when your kimoyo beads ring.

It’s Shuri.

“Yes?” you answer, ensuring not to disturb your mom. It was late.

“I just wanted to make sure you got home safe.” you knew her concern was genuine because Izara would never forgive her if something happened to you.

“Yes, I did. Thank you.”

She hesitates for a second, staring at you in contemplation before asking, “So, are we going to talk about it?” There’s humor in her voice.

Not this. “Didn’t we agree that I wasn’t with you?”

"I'm not addressing that," Shuri responds immediately. "There is something far more intriguing on your lower back," she taunts, winking.

Your lips form an unconscious gasp. “Shut up!” The first and only tattoo you’ve ever received was in Paris after your first fashion week. You and a few other models get tattoos while feeling celebratory and possibly under the influence of a bit too much champagne. A tribal butterfly is permanently affixed to the center of your lower back. "No, we can't discuss it since you've never seen it." You remind her of this, your face heated. You can't believe you overlooked that.

"I completely understand." She responds, but the way she looks at you and bites her lip suggests otherwise.

Everything about her was enticing. You decide to end the call, “Goodnight, Shuri.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

You went to bed vowing never to do it again, a commitment tainted by dishonesty because it happened again.

#cai fics #re upload #shuri x black!reader #shuri x reader #shuri fanfiction #shuri black panther #black panther shuri #shuri fic #shuri smut #princess shuri #shuri udaku #shuri imagine #shuri x y/n #shuri x you #mcu shuri

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romantichomicide95 · 11 months

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HI FRIEND CAN U WRITE ONE WITH LEVI AND I MAKING UP AFTER A FIGHT AND IT ENDS IN CUDDLES :D or maybe smut 👀

Kattttttt! Yes I love a good makeup sex plot 😂. Or makeup cuddles, let’s see where this takes us ✌🏽.

Levi x Reader -Makeup Sex

Listen. I made it smutty, how could I not. Too horny for this man. Also wrote this pretty quick.

NSFW i fucking hate warnings cause idk what to put, like don’t read this if your under 18. And don’t read this if you like don’t like woman getting off more than once? or like cockwarming and shit??? idk i’m sorry y’all.

God, this was pathetic. Feeling this way, it was stupid. But it kept creeping up into your brain, consuming every thought you had. It’s not like you didn’t understand, you knew why Levi didn’t have as much time to focus on your relationship. His life was dedicated to being a Scout, you knew that when you met, and you knew it when you laid that first kiss on his soft lips. But here you were, arguing with him.

You didn't know what came over you, why you picked this fight with Levi when you knew how important his role as a Scout was to him. But the feeling of neglect and loneliness kept gnawing at the back of your mind, and it felt like it was consuming you from the inside out.

Levi had come over to your apartment for a rare moment of free time, but instead of spending time together, all you wanted to do was argue. You found yourself being petty, picking on every little detail, and snapping at him over minor things. “You’re never here, even when your here Levi”

“You’re being stupid. You know I can’t be here all the time. I try to be with you when I can. You can’t expect more.”

His words stung. But more than that you felt a pang of guilt for how you’d been treating him since he arrived. You knew he couldn’t prioritize you over his duties, not when the whole of humanity was counting on him. You sat in silence for a moment, collecting your thoughts, letting the anger leave your body, until all you felt was guilt.

“Fuck. I’m sorry Levi. You’re right, you see me when you can. You’re the best damn soldier we have. I get it, I’m sorry.” He doesn’t say anything at first, instead he joins you on the couch, narrowing his grey eyes at you, holding your gaze.

You feel exposed as he searches your eyes. "I hate when we argue," you say softly, looking down at your hands.

"I know," Levi replies. "But it's bound to happen. We're both stubborn. It's not always going to be perfect."

Closing your eyes, you lean into him, feeling the warmth of his body next to you. You can feel your heart beating faster in your chest and when he puts his hand on your thigh, you can't help but shudder.

Looking back up at him, he leans in to kiss you. It's a soft kiss at first, but quickly grows more passionate. The two of you fall back onto the couch, his muscular body above you, hands roaming over each other's bodies as you forget about the world outside.

You break away for a second, cupping his face in your hands. “I’m sorry I was such an ass. You work so hard and you carry so much. I know better.”

“I know.” he says a playful smirk starting to form across his face. “I know a way you can make it up to me.”

You smile back at him, feeling a sudden rush of excitement. "Oh really?" you say, raising an eyebrow. "And what is that?"

Levi leans in close with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Take this dress off and I’ll show you” he says, more of a demand than a request.

“You do always know how to get what you want.” You say giving him a seductive smile as you slip your dress off your body, than the undergarments underneath leaving you exposed beneath him.

It felt vulnerable, but also exciting to be sprawled out under him, completely nude whilst he hadn’t taken one article of clothing off. His eyes scan your body for a moment, taking in all the ways in which it curves. His eyes are filled with list as his lips meet your neck, breathe tickling you as he leaves soft kisses down to your chest. Taking one nipple into his mouth, massaging the other bud with his fingers. The feeling of his lips on your exposed breasts causes a slight whimper out of your lips.

His fingers trail down your skin lightly until they meet your folds, already wet with lust.

“I barely even have to touch you huh.” he says before using his fingers to pump into you, his hand palming your clit. Covering himself in your juices. You peel his shirt off over his head as your whimpers start to get louder. He shuts you up by kissing your lips, hungrily and biting every bit of you he can. You reach down and unbuckle his belt, wanting to feel his length in your hand.

“Wait.” he says batting your hand away. “Want you to cum for me first.”

Your body starts to shake as you buck your hips into where he’s touching you, feeling your high coming down as you cum all over his fingers.

“That’s a good girl.” he says as he licks his fingers clean.

“Can I now? P-Please Levi, need to feel you.” you beg as you grab for his belt again, this time he lets you until you’ve got him naked as well, pumping his cock with your hand.

He pins your arms above your back before sliding his dick inside you, you clench around him as he sits inside you not moving a muscle.

“Levi, please.” you say and a menacing smile crosses his face before he starts railing his hips against yours. Before you know it he’s picked you up and placed you on his lap, pulling you up and down his cock. Bucking himself until he reaches your cervix, it’s almost too much how deep he gets inside.

“Fuck, you feel so good. Making it up to me so good with the way you feel.” he says as he fucks his hips up into you. His strong hands grip your ass tight, you can feel the bruises forming but you don’t care.

Heat starts to rush through you as you bounce up and down on his cock, relishing just how well he seems to fill your pussy up. You start to rub your clit and your movements speed up. His eyes grow wide as he watches the way your tits bounce in his face, how your rubbing your clit with hunger, he watches the moaning mess you’ve become on his cock. Sweat drips down his forehead as he bucks into you even faster now.

“Ahh fuck, fuck. Levi.” you practically scream as you cum around his cock. He pushes you back down beneath him, lifting your legs above his shoulders. His quick strokes making your pussy twitch. His hands roam your body, grabbing every curve until his hand makes its way around your neck, squeezing gently. You can feel your body shake, your throw your head back instinctively and arch your back. “Already gunna cum for me again?” All you can do is nod as your third orgasm washes over you.

His lips meet your neck again and he’s still for e moment, catching his breathe and savoring the way your skin tastes before he’s thrusting at a heightened pace.

“Gun-gunna cum.” he breathes into your ear right before he cums inside you. He collapses on your chest and you both lay still for a moment as you catch your breathe. He rolls over and pulls you into his chest. You look in his eyes for a moment, getting lost in their gleam.

"I'm so lucky to have you. Let’s never fight again” you finally say, kissing Levi's forehead.

"I'm the lucky one," he replies, stroking your hair gently. You smile, feeling your heart swell with happiness. "I love you.” you say, snuggling even closer to him. "Forever and always."

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xiaojianggshi · 4 months

Text

hiiii!! trying out a new layout idk the one i had before seems so empty now, cheng gotta step up her game...

sorry this took so long i promise didn't leave i was just slowly working on this

enhypen as husbands

16 december, 2023

LEE HEESEUNG

heeseung as a person certainly has worries. as a husband, he would worry about rumors people say about him. news articles, forum posts, comments, videos; like he feels like those outlets have him at mercy. as a husband and an idol he may worry especially about rumors that occur because people overanalyze ever movement. that, or past controversies surrounding not only him, but the group as well.

his reading does not seem to be objectively sweet since he is holding on to a really strong connection he had in the past that he cannot let go of. not sure if everyone is familiar with the episode but he reminds me of when wendy broke up with stan and he turned goth (south park s7ep14). since he seems so down, he probably is very committed in a relationship. his heart is their heart.

however, as an ending note it seems he does not want his fans to worry about him, he wants to be in the process of embracing change and looking towards a bright future.

seven of swords rx., the emperor rx., six of cups rx., ten of swords rx., seven of cups, eight of wands rx.

PARK JAY

jay would probably thrive in a married relationship. he wants to do everything for them and is likely big on gift giving. anything in his power that he can do to make his partner feel secure and not have to worry about money or time, he wants to do. just as person, he is someone who wants to make lifetime connections. he wants to share the same life with his partner almost completely.

he would be a very large provider, mostly monetarily. particularly, jay wants to be successful in order to provide for his family. and nevermind how i said he would be big on gift giving, he IS gift giving. he probably does not pay attention much to price and just wants to make his significant other happy.

once again, strong bonds are important to him. in general, jay is already a very generous person to his friends and family, so someone who he feels once-in-a-lifetime connection with is someone he would not mind to spoil.

queen of pentacles, the tower rx., ace of pentacles, the lovers, two of wands

SIM JAKE

jake has high expectations concerning marriage. like, very high expectations to the point where i could honestly see him being the last to even get married out of eveyrone in the group. jake sees the responsibilities of not only marriage but relationships in general, and he wants someone who knows about it and knows how to handle those responsibilities.

jake may want a traditional marriage. but to some extent, it is a little unfair. some of his expectations could be superhuman and cause him or his partner to be put on a pedestal where one partner works and handles any heavy lifting, and the other does not. his ideal marriage is imbalanced, so to say.

he wants to be the provider, like an extremely superficial couple from an older tv show that has a stay-at-home parent and a working parent. really, his concept of marriage is very idealistic. he will probably change or shift though.

justice rx., ten of wands, three of pentacles rx., judgement, the high priestess rx., king of pentacles

PARK SUNGHOON

generally, sunghoon is very picky with the people he chooses to enter relationships with. honestly could imagine him putting 'candidates' through tests in order to see if they are too good to be true or just to test whether the relationship would actually work out. not to say he has a roster of potential relationship candidates, but he when he realizes it is not what he wants, he will end the relationship and look for what feels right.

he is a balanced person, i think. he is smart and knows when to use his head but simultaneously sticks with the connections and relationships he has made. he is a very loyal and compassionate partner. once again, when he meets the person that feels right he may not even want to leave them alone.

he is not a passive partner either. whenever he says something, he means it and will be active in the relationship. when his partner says something, he will follow through with it and expects them to follow through with it as well.

four of cups, the world rx., king of cups, knight of swords

KIM SUNOO

sunoo does not care about traditional roles or traditional marriage. if anything, he wants to experiment and have fun with his marriage. he does not want it to make him feel tied down and he wants to feel like he has met his ride-or-die. sunoo will always be true to himself and his needs. great thing about him is that he will never change, although this does also manifest into stubborness.

that is really all i have for him, at the moment he does not really want to think about marriage. he wants to enjoy life and because of that, is also very picky with his relationships and who he chooses to surround himself with.

the hierophant rx., nine of cups rx., knight of cups rx.

YANG JUNGWON

prioritizes any sort of relationship, big time. every connection he makes is important to him, and not in a self-sufficient way where he wants to reach higher places. jungwon seems to be the least likely person to work through connections. he plays everything very fairly and makes connections for the people themselves.

in a serious relationship he would also follow his. he wants balance and a genuine connection. if he puts in the effort, his partner should also put in an effort to meet him in the middle and vice versa.

most likely prioritizies turning a house into a home. he wants to be fulfilled and wants to fulfill for his partner, i cannot reiterate it enough. he wants to be successful in every way that he can.

the lovers, temperance, knight of swords, ten of pentacles, ace of pentacles

NISHIMURA RIKI

probably not sure at all about what he looks for in a relationship. there are many different things he could be interested in, but it is just kind of an atom cloud of ideas. there is nothing he would give a hard pass or see as a particular green flag right now

clueless. he is clueless and clumsy with marriage. man only just turned 18 so he does not really have the same expectations or general ideals he has in his love life, although jungwon does (their personalities are quite different though, soo). the cards are just spilling?? everywhere?? he is actually just clueless

?????wtfff????

#kpop tarot #enhypen tarot

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chiptrillino · 1 year

Note

How the hell do you find every accurate representative culture fashion for the avatar gang? Like it pains me the hell how people this good and hardworking can find these gorgeous cultural clothes and accessories and draw them so well and detailed like you- TELL ME YOUR SECRETS (Please)

idk about accurate. at the end it is still a fantasy world inspired by real life cultures contrasting or soothed out to fit a charakter personality and traits. listen if i spot an option to have a older fire lord zuko with his titts chest out i will go for it and nothing can stop me not even accuracy i say this as if i didn't already do it in private with seethrough material hahah

there is not much secrets behind it though, sorry its research, fact checking. often even the most random things. at least that is my method. you go to google and type in what you need and would like to know. read the wikipedia article for some general understanding on the topic but them go to the source part and check these out. or like double check these. if reading is not your thing there are lots of dedicated youtubers or ticktockers that love to share and explain parts of their culture or tradtions (clothing included. depends on what you research.) contemporary to that or after that you build up your visual library by collecting images on pinterest, or google or websites covering the topic you are researching. make your own folders or pin boards.

an amazing blog for atla real life culture sources is of course or beloved: @atlaculture blog!

https://www.tumblr.com/atlaculture who recently began to dedicate some post in flashing out more water tribe and air normad cusine, also instruments. its a delight to read through.

of course you have an easier time with some research than with other. some things are clear others a contradicting some are barley documented. it is also necessary to have an occasional reality check. like reread your sources see if there is something new. replace what you misunderstood before. don't always go for what looks pretty and aesthetically good to you. there is a reason why things looked like they did. was it the material, was it protection, was it culture.

a part looking at contemporary photography i personally preffere to look at how people liked to depict themself at that time. Statues, wall painting, illustration, old fotos from that time and compare them to current pictures to see how they used to stylize this element or to see what was essential to them. thats probably my old art-history phase flaring up again though hahah. at the end it is also how you Interpret and headcanon the atla world for yourself. before i were able to redesign jet i had to figure out how i want to draw fire nation armor. because to me jet repuporses a lot of the armor from the enemy. a shin guard will be used as an arm protection. the red shirt he wears is fire nation, a shoulder guard that fits will just be used as it is. i just assume that FN armor is better in being fire resistent than earth kingdoms ones.

but fire nation armor is a chellenge on its own again. because is it tang dynasty? is it song? but the collar protector is a typical thai armor element. how do i combine that? is there a history behind it?

speaking about armor what would be the southern water tribe one? if it is lamellar ivory armor, how and why does it look so different by season 3 at the day of the black sun? did the southern water fleet separated form their home begin to adopt EK styles. switching out kuspuk and parkas in for sleeveless wrap shirts and armor with inside plating like they have in ba sing se? because that what was aviable to them?

(appart everything the talk of armor is in general really curious because... what do you wear when you go in to fight against fire??? in the poles you can argure that it is not a concern. if you burn you roll in the snow but in the EK... hm.. they dont have fancy heat resistand clothing like fire fighters have now.... armor is ment to cushion off impact and or slicing. our standard armors conzept can work well against earth-, water- and air bending (to some degree) but fire burns what do you idealy do against that? leather helps to some degree)

while the southern water tribe is clearly circumpolar people inspired (although lacking lots of world-building which you can kind of excusing it with... the war destroyed everything but also... uh.... its a nearly 20 year old show.... ) the northern water tribe shows korean or even mongolian elements. so what do you want to focus on? i personally like to make things connect because these characters live in one world togheter and trade and exchange happens. (yes even during a 100 year war or at least there had to have been a time of influence and the lack of exchange froze(*snorts*) this culture in time) you know... migration? and transition of style and life through out history.

maybe i overthink things to much for just drawing some clothes... -srugs-

#chip!ask #chip!talks #atla #atla worldbuilding #honestly i probably ended up rambeling here to much...#but yeha reasearch is just.... the key?#like for everything?#sorry #tbh don't ask me stuff because i still don't know things.... i know things but i am in this you know....#i know what i don't know - mode #and i don't know a lot and i am just drawing fanarts with a 40+ hours job on the side #i know some!#i guess #which makes me wonder world building kind of stuff...#like how is the EK palace layouted form the inside #whathappend to the AN aerias after the got whiped out #what consequences does the lack of airbender have to the world in sense of conection and exchange #were there really only bending airbenders?#are there still people out that belive in airbender philosophy #like the bending form died but people that lived near by still have similar dress food traditons and belives like the AN did?#is FN stuck in time too? because the royal clothing is tang and song styled but EK in BSS the fashion progressed into qing style #did kyoshi trade blue dye or blue fabric with the southern water tribe regularly before war?#trading pelt for fabric?#just... migration patterns???#yes? no? uhm.... okay i shut up now...

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jedipoodoo · 8 months

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This might be a weird request, you don't have to write this okay! But... How about Imperal bad batch ( seperated) and pregnant reader? Hunter turns into the darks side while his wife is pregnant (almost like Anakin and Padme

THIS REQUEST GOT ME LIKE

Ma'am, I will answer any and all requests for a pregnant reader and you know that. I'm sorry for taking so long, but I really wanted to do this one justice 😁

Haunted (Imperial! Hunter x Pregnant!Fem!Reader)

Okay, so most of my Dad Batch shorts mention keeping the baby from the kaminoans and the like, so....what if they couldn't keep the baby from them???

Warnings: labor and delivery, pregnancy (obvi), kidnapping, The Empire sucks, Nala Se is a pain in the shebs, Nobody likes Wilhuff Tarkin. This one is a lot darker than my usual stuff. Dark may be too strong of a word for it, but idk how else to put it.

Notes: what it says on the label. Pregnant reader, female reader. Hunter is manipulated. Protective Hunter, Angst without a happy ending...yet. Dividers by @saradika

"Hold on just a minute more, cyare, we're almost there," Hunter urged. Echo peeked around the corner, signaling for Hunter to freeze. Hunter, holding one of your hands to lead you and wrapping the other around your waist to hold you upright, pulled you against the wall to keep from being seen around the corner. He could hear the slow, meandering gait of a Kaminoan as they walked past the hall, unsuspecting, taking all the time in the world while you struggled not to whimper at the pain in Hunter's arms.

Hunter gently patted your belly, as if that would make everything better.

"You're doing great," He whispered.

"I'm gonna kill you," You growled.

Echo hissed a warning, waving you both forward. The Kaminoan was gone.

Your comm beeped softly, and Hunter snatched it up, trying to get you to move faster when all you could do was waddle.

"Come in, Tech."

"The medical wing has been cleared. Wrecker and Crosshair will stand guard."

"Good. We're two minutes out."

"AHH!" Your knees gave out as a contraction tore through your body, and you almost slipped out of Hunter's arms.

Hunter gently lowered you to the floor to let you catch your breath, "Breathe, sweetheart, just keep breathing," He urged. It was in some stupid holo-article that he had read online, and despite the amount of research he'd put into labor and delivery, that tactic in particular was starting to get super annoying. Breathing was one of the last things on your mind when you had

"Is that one worse than the last few?" Echo asked. He was trying to be gentle, force bless him he was, but his grip on your arm was struggling not to pull you to your feet and drag you to safety.

You looked up at Hunter, and froze. Despite the fact that every single thing he was trying to do at the moment was annoying you to no end, you could see the fear quavering in his eyes.

You all knew that if the Kaminoans found you, as arrogant and self-serving as they were, they would unquestionably seize your child as Kaminoan property, enfolding him (or her) into the sea of identical brothers bred for slaughter. Neither Hunter or his brothers were going to let that happen.

"Osik," Hunter muttered none too softly. You followed his gaze to the floor, where a sticky puddle was forming from your water breaking. Osik was right.

Hunter slipped his arms under your legs and your back and hefted you in the air. He didn't even wait for the all-clear from Echo, he just ran to the med-wing.

"Hunter, I can walk-" but the next contraction stole your breath and proved you wrong. Hunter ran faster, and you could hear Echo struggling to catch up with you. You wrapped your arms around Hunter's neck and prayed.

Wrecker and Crosshair waved you past, sealing the door shut behind you. Only Tech and a single med-droid were in the tiny medical wing they had managed to clear.

"The droid's memory will be wiped the moment we are finished," Tech promised before you could voice your worries. Hunter gently sat you on the table, bracing your feet in the stirrups.

"Her contractions are two minutes and thirty seconds apart," Hunter said. The droid quickly ran a few scans to confirm and Tech handed you a large sheet of paper that hardly counted as a robe.

"Are you ready?" He asked.

You gulped, bracing yourself against another contraction. Whether or not you were ready, your baby was coming.

There was pounding on the door, but you could barely hear their demands of "Open up in there!" over the squalls of your baby.

"It's a boy," Tech said, almost as an afterthought as the droid cut the umbilical cord.

Hunter pressed his lips to your forehead, despite how sweaty and gross you felt. "Good job, cyare," He whispered, "You did so good."

You nodded, unable to think straight. "The baby..." You reached for the child bundled in Tech's arms. Hunter sprung to his feet and took them from Tech as gently as he could, bringing the baby back over to you.

"Oh," You gasped softly, running a finger across their cheek. It was a little sticky, like something that had been dried haphazardly, and their hair was still slick with blood and fluids, but you brushed it out with your fingers, letting the dark curls spring into place as he wriggled with all his newborn strength.

"He looks just like you, Hunter," You whispered.

"The spitting image," Tech had already shut down the droid to wipe its memory circuits, and you took the baby from Hunter, pressing him against your chest.

"Mama's here, Mama's here," You said, kissing the baby over and over.

The pounding on the door had stopped, but there was lots of shouting. Hunter's gaze darted to the door as he heard Wrecker cry out.

"We've got to get you out of here," He said, pulling you to your feet. You stumbled like a newborn fathier colt, leaning against him.

"I-I can't," You gasped. You tried to give him the baby, "You have to take him,"

"I'm not leaving you," He insisted.

"Now is not the time for affectionate stubbornness, Hunter, she's right. You have to get him out of here before-"

There was blasterfire in the hall, and you saw sparks fly as several bolts hit the door. Your son wailed unhappily and you reached for him, only to pull your hand back at the last moment.

"Go!" You begged Hunter, but it was too late.

The door that Tech had painstakingly sealed shut slid open, and eight shock troopers pointed their blasters into the room, aiming for you, Hunter, and the baby.

"Place the infant on the table and step back," Their captain commanded.

"No," Ever the contrarian, Hunter shielded your son from their view.

You hadn't even named him yet.

Just beyond the wall of troopers, Wrecker, Crosshair, and Echo had all been forced to their knees with their hands behind their heads. The bodies of several other Shock Troopers and Kaminoan security troopers were strewn about the hall, dead or alive it was hard to tell, but the Batch wasn't going down without a fight.

Admiral Tarkin stepped into the doorway to take in the damage for himself, but what made your blood run cold was Nala Se standing behind him.

"You will not take my child!" You screamed. stumbling to your feet to stand between your son and the blasters.

"Your child is Kaminoan property," Nala Se said calmly, despite the bodies of her creation littered around her.

"Imperial Property," Tarkin corrected harshly, "Much like your supposed lover and his squad. Lieutenant, you are stripped of your title and imprisoned for your crimes. CT-9901, you are also henceforth removed from your post as Sergeant. You are all under arrest."

"She has just given birth!" Tech finally spoke up, "She will not be going anywhere until she heals! Unless you wish to have her death on your hands?"

You hadn't even named him yet.

Tarkin shrugged, "Dead or alive, it makes no difference." He waved to the troopers who approached with several sets of binder cuffs like the others wore.

"No!" You screamed and leaped at the troopers. You were unable to do more than crash into them, but it gave Hunter a shot at getting through, and that was all you could hope for.

With your son secured to his chest, Hunter dashed out of the room and past the astonished Nala Se and a flabbergasted Tarkin. You smirked to yourself as you slid down to the floor, breathing heavily.

Tech grabbed your arm to steady you, and both of you were grabbed by the troopers

Hunter knew the halls of Kamino like the back of his hand. Once he made it past the original wave, there was little to stop the (former) sergeant of Clone Force Ninety-Nine.

His baby whimpered in his arms, and he hurriedly hushed them.

He'd come back for you later, or maybe his brothers would help you escape, somewhere quiet and peaceful like you'd always talked about after the war. Somewhere you could raise your family in peace.

But for now, he was only worried about doing what you'd said, and that was getting your son to safety.

"It's alright, ad'ika, we're gonna get you out of here," He whispered, pressing his lips against the boy's forehead.

"I'll keep you safe."

Alarms blared to signal his escape, which made it harder to calm the baby, but also simultaneously hid their cries.

Hunter wished that his brothers were with him, but they had all agreed to this. They had all insisted that your child was priority, and they would defend it like one of their Vode, just as they had when you joined them.

Hunter ran faster, on deft feet, always knowing which hall to take in order to avoid a clumsy stampede.

The Marauder was docked in the bay closest to the medwing, Echo needed a checkup after their last mission, but it seemed serendipitous when your contractions started in the early morning. You knew the Kaminoans would see this as openly flaunting your blatant disregard for their authority in their own city. You'd wanted to have your baby anywhere but Tipoca City, but then you'd received orders to return to Kamino with the end of the war.

Hunter grit his teeth, avoiding patrols was keeping him from going as fast as he'd like,and his son's cries were getting more and more agitated. It was a pitiful replacement, but he stuck his finger in the child's mouth to let him suck on it. As soon as he took off, he could give him the formula aboard the Marauder and look him over.

"Most childcare experts agree that there is a distinct possibility that hyperspace travel at such a delicate stage can be detrimental to child's development," Tech's voice echoed in Hunter's mind. But that couldn't be helped right now.

He turned the corner towards the bay, but it was blocked by another squad of Shock Troopers. Before he could think, he drew his blaster.

"Hunter!" You screamed in terror. Hunter's blood ran ice-cold as he spotted you.

You were on your knees, held upright by two troopers, and an Admiral (or someone else who wore one of those gray suits) had a blaster pointed at your head. Tarkin met Hunter's gaze with a smug smile.

"You made a valiant effort in your escape, Sergeant. I can only imagine how much that child means to you."

Hunter shifted the baby, holding him closer. The boy was starting to grow frantic again, now that he didn't have anything to suck on.

"However," Tarkin continued, "Much like yourself, the child is now property of the Galactic Empire. Attempting to steal him is treason."

"If I'm already committing treason, I might as well shoot you here and seal the deal." Hunter focused his aim on Tarkin.

"You could, couldn't you?" Tarkin barked a cold, humorless laugh,

"However, the moment you open fire, Vice Admiral Rampart has orders to shoot at point-blank range."

You shook your head desperately. "Hunter, don't!"

"Hand over the infant, now!" Tarkin said. His lackey in an identical suit pressed the blaster to the base of your throat, cutting off your protest.

"What will it be: the child? Or it's mother?" Tarkin sneered.

It was over. Hunter knew that. Even if he did as you asked, he still wouldn't be able to get past the Shock Troopers. His sons cries were like ringing in his ears as he tossed his blaster to the side.

They took his son from his arms, and all he could say was "Support his head!" as they turned away so that Hunter couldn't even see him anymore, but he listened to his cries as they were dragged in opposite directions.

You and Hunter were brought to what sufficed as the brig in Tipoca City. Tech, Echo, Crosshair, and Wrecker were already there, and they hurried to make room for you to sit on the only bench available. Your legs were shaking terribly, and you were sore all over. The pain medication Tech had given you was starting to wear off. Tech gave you a once-over as best he could without his datapad or any medical gear.

"Most of this recovery takes several months anyway, even without the added stress you've been through," He said, it what must have been an objectively positive observation, but only served to remind you of everything you had just lost.

"Where's the kid?" Crosshair demanded. Hunter couldn't even look him in the eye from the insane guilt he felt at giving up his son. All you could do was cry.

Crosshair cursed and slammed his fist against the wall, though he didn't know what he was expecting from an operation like this. Clone Force 99 had never known failure like this before, it was a foreign feeling to them.

Hunter refused to let himself cry. He had to be strong for his brothers, for you and your son. He had to get you out of there, somehow.

He didn't even know how you could bare to look at him for such a catastrophic failure, but you turned to him and wrapped your arms around his chest, pulling him close to you.

"We...we didn't even get to name him," You whimpered in Hunter's arms.

Hunter's jaw stiffened atop the crown of your head.

"Well, let's name him now."

It felt slightly pathetic, sobbing in a jail cell over a child that had been ripped from your arms, but the idea of naming him felt like a rousing battle cry deep in your soul. The Kaminoans hated the names that the clones gave each other, and despite all the nicknames that they claimed and gave to each other, at the end of the day only their numbers were written on reports and official documentation.

But your son wasn't a clone. He was your son. And he would have a name from birth.

"Asher." You said. Where you came from, the name symbolized hope, of something beautiful and precious being created from the ashes of destruction. Something like your life as a family.

Hunter nodded, gently rubbing circles into your shoulders. "Asher it is."

"CT-9901, you need to come with us."

Ice encased your heart as the shock troopers approached the makeshift cell, deactivating the shield.

"Don't," You begged, looking up at him as your hands dug into his shirt, holding on for dear life.

"I have to," He whispered, working your fingers loose so he could stand.

"She's right," Echo said loudly, standing up.

"Yes, we stay together." Tech stepped between Hunter and the shock trooper.

The trooper did not take kindly to this show of defiance, and drove the butt of his blaster into Tech's stomach. Tech fell to his knees as he gasped in pain, and the others all stood ready to fight, but knowing it was fruitless.

"Enough," Hunter stood, motioning to his brothers to stand down.

"I'll go."

He wasn't cuffed, but there was a blaster muzzle in his back every step of the way. The troopers led him back to the med bay, where several medical droids were still cleaning the room that you had commandeered earlier. The troopers marched him past the room and past a large window where several cadets were going through their checkups. And right in the corner was Asher.

Hunter disregarded the warnings from the Troopers and place his hand against the window, wishing he could catch his son's attention. He was in an incubation box, sound asleep, with monitors strapped to his chest. Hunter was just relieved he wasn't in a growth tube.

"Asher," He murmured as a shock trooper gripped his shoulder, "Your name is Asher."

The troopers all but dragged him to another closed-off room, where Tarkin waited with Nala Se and a datapad. Hunter kept his focus on Tarkin, wondering if the so-called "Admiral" had spent as much time with a hot blaster in his hand than in a comfortable office on Coruscaunt.

"We meet again, Sergeant."

Hunter chuckled, "I thought I wasn't a Sergeant anymore, Admiral."

"I suppose you'd prefer to be called CT-9901, then?"

So the Admiral did know about their chosen names, he just chose not to use them.

"What do you want?" He asked, trying to not let his breathing get the best of him.

"What I need is your cooperation,"

Hunter shrugged, "Sounds simple enough. Just let them go."

He knew it was a fool's dream to think that Tarkin would actually acquiesce to his demands, but he had to try.

"Let my wife, son, and brothers go and I'll do whatever you want."

Tarkin squared his shoulders to challenge Hunter, "Certainly not. That would be a grave mistake on our part. Think of all that we could learn. The Empire has other plans for a force-sensitive child."

Hunter's blood ran cold.

"Oh, you didn't know," Tarkin smiled slyly, and Hunter's hands clenched in an effort to keep from slapping the smirk off his face.

Nala Se handed Tarkin her datapad, "Nala Se's team has performed all the necessary tests and administered the correct vaccinations for your child. A quick blood test showed a count of approximately fifteen-thousand midi-chlorians."

Hunter's throat ran dry, and his ears rang with the sound of his son- Asher's- cries.

"You have a simple choice, Sergeant. Join the Empire freely, stay with your brothers, your partner and your child, or be forced to watch them suffer for your treason."

It wasn't much of a choice, and Hunter knew it. They were offering him the short end of the stick to pull him from the same raging rapids they had tossed him into, but it was either that or drown.

And he would sacrifice everything he was for the chance to protect you and your child.

Post-Script: I know I've used Asher as a name for Crosshair's kid but it fit too well for this AU.

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