#The first of many lil fics but I wanted a basis of this world so that is why this is so descriptive | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jadewritesficshere · 9 months

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Presenting

Alpha!Steve Harrington x reader

Synopsis: You present for first time as an omega

A/N: hello all! So I know there are many different types of A/B/O fics out there. Some people say ruts/heats happen once a year, once a month, twice a year, etc. There is some discussion on the exact private parts omegas vs alphas have.

Well, what I envision may be similar or completely different. This is my take. This is my fic. I have a whole lil world for this, and have a few mini blurbs/oneshots planned. This is the first, which I've struggled to have the courage to post since March. Also: reader and Steve are over 21 in this.

Enjoy.

Contents: mostly a bit of backstory on a/b/o dynamics, fluff, first presentation. Gender of Reader is not specified but Steve does call them Honey.

Steve opened the door to the house, grumbling as he juggled the groceries in his arms. He should have taken more then one trip, but with the light rain falling, he didn't want to stay out in the cold more then he had to. The door swung open into the unlit hallway. Steve wasn't surprised. Eddie was at work, and Robin had plans with Vickie. The only person he was unsure of was you, but you had been working nights and it wasn't unusual for you to be asleep at noon. What was unusual was the smell that hit Steve's nose. His nose twitched and he frowned as he tried to identify it, before shrugging it off and heading to the kitchen to put groceries away.

Steve grimaced as he looked in the fridge and saw the plastic container holding Eddie's lunch from last week. The lime green jello Robin had made wiggled as Steve reached past and grabbed the container. Without a second glance, Steve tossed it in the trash can and continued to empty the fridge of old food and replace it with the groceries he had bought. Steve hummed to himself as he thought about what he could make for supper.

A noise from the other room made Steve pause. It had sounded like one of the closet doors had come off their track again. You must have woken up and were getting changed. Steve's heart thumped a little extra at the thought of you, causing Steve to curse himself. He had tried to hide his feelings for you, not wanting to make the living situation awkward if you didn't reciprocate. Eddie gave him shit about how strong his scent was when you came near. Of course it wasn't intentional, biology and all that, but Steve couldn't be mad when it had deterred other Alphas from you. Steve just didn't want you to feel awkward, especially when he glared and growled. He didn't want you to think he was upset because of you. Steve wanted to shower you in love and affection, but you weren't his. You weren't anyone's. You were just you. Amazing, beautiful, talented you.

Robin and you were both Betas. As such, you could smell the scents from Omegas and Alphas, but it was no stronger then if you got close to a flower and sniffed or the spritz of cologne or perfume. Eddie was another alpha, but took suppressants (which he forgot to take half the time, causing his ruts to be a little more unpredictable...). Eddie confided in the group that he was going to stop taking suppressants after this next rut, but he had taken them for so long because he hadn't wanted to seem like an aggressive alpha like his father (who was currently facing life in prison). Steve's parents were both alphas, so it wasn't a surprise Steve was.

Presenting as an alpha or omega was strongly linked to genetics. Regardless of the parent presentation of alpha or omega, if one parent was and the other was a beta there was a possiblity. If both parents had presented, then it was extremely likely for the pup to present as well. There were, of course, cases of the pup not presenting and being a beta, but it was unlikely. Thanks to more modern technology, betas could reproduce with another beta. These pups had low chances of presenting, but was not impossible.

However with presenting were the stereotypes. Steve couldn't care less, agreeing with Robin that a lot of the archetypes were heavily influenced by societal norms of feminine versus masculine, and that there was nothing "wrong" with an alpha that wanted to be a housewife or an omega that wanted to be a CEO. Since the four of you living together, Steve has embraced the more "omega" traits he has, feeling more settled and free than when he had to live up to his parents expectations.

Steve remembers the day he presented, hearing his parent's praise. He then remembers being left to his own devices to try and figure it out by himself. At least they handed him a pamphlet and had stocked the kitchen. Steve learned a lot from that stupid pamphlet. You could present as young as 12 all the way to 25. The first day of your presentation, the genitalia would shape more to your presentation and your scent glands would come in. By the end of the second day, the genitalia would be formed to handle and work with the opposite presentation. By the third day, you would endure a typical rut or heat like you would for the rest of your life. Your first rut or heat would be unable to produce pups. The entire presentation would only last from 3-5 days.

Steve shook his head, wondering why thoughts of that stupid pamphlet had come to mind. Steve stretched as he closed the door to the fridge, the calendar catching his eye. Steve's plain black misspelled scrawl at the end of the month noted his rut would arrive. Robin's green handwriting beneath simply said "sucker" to which Eddie had replied "suck her amiright". Steve shook his head as a grin spread across his lips. Eddie's red haphazard scrawl was written on the next weekend with question marks, indicating his rut if he had taken the suppressants correctly. Your blue "good luck" beneath reminded Steve that Eddie was going to come off the suppressants (did he get a cake for that? Beer?).

Steve left the kitchen making an extra note to grab snacks that had higher nutrients and protein for their upcoming ruts. Steve paused in the hallway as the smell from earlier hit Steve again. It smelled like that honey body wash Robin and you were obsessed with, but also had a hint of something that was more familiar. It grew stronger as Steve walked further down the hall. Steve paused outside your open door and inhaled; the scent being extremely strong here. Steve's eyes widened as he realized that familiar scent was you. He had never smelled you this strongly before, what with Betas not really producing a strong scent.

Steve peered into the room, concerned something was wrong. He was wracking his brain trying to think of what could cause your scent to be this strong. Your walls were filled with Polaroids of your friends, posters of your favorite bands, and some paintings Robin had created. It wasn't as covered as Eddie's, but it showed your personality. The carpet had some clothes haphazardly strewn about, but overall you kept the room clean. Your bed, were Steve had expected to find you after your shift, was empty. Your pillow was gone, which was odd, but maybe it had fallen off from your tossing and turning. Steve blinked a few times before pushing the door open more and leaning in. Your room was definitely empty. Your closet was open, stuffed to the brim with clothes. He could see your desk in the far corner of the room was not being sat at.

Steve frowned to himself and looked at the shut door opposite your room, the bathroom. Oh...You must have gone to the bathroom. Steve went to knock before pausing, he didn't want to interrupt you if you were busy (he knows how much you and Robin hate getting interrupted when in the bathroom, regardless of what you are doing). Steve shrugs and continues leisurely to the next door, his room. He throws open the door without a care-

And nearly keels over. The scent was overpowering here, which confused Steve as he thought it had been you. A whimper from the closet made Steve's head snap in that direction. The closet was closed, but uneven; the door was off the track and barely hanging on. Steve crept to the door and opened it, gasping.

You were curled into the fetal position on his closet floor. On top of his clothes, hangers bare above you. You had pulled his jacket on top of you, and were laying in a pile. Your head laying on your "missing" pillow. The polo he had worn yesterday was clutched in your hands, held close to your face that was scrunched up in discomfort. Steve stood there, jaw wide open, as he tried to understand what his eyes were seeing. He cleared his throat, causing your eyes to snap open. "Stevie?" You whisper, peering up at him with glassy eyes. Steve crouched down to be on your level as you shift to sit up from laying down.

"What's going on?" Steve finally asks, feeling like the biggest idiot. His brain screaming the answer at him, but he couldn't believe it. His brain bringing that pamphlet back to his mind with fanfare. He had to hear you say it he-

"I dont know!" Your voice cracked and your chin wavered, tears filling your eyes. "I dont feel right and i couldnt get comfortable and all I could think of was you and i came in here and it felt right but everything was too much so the closet was perfect and i just i dont-" your rambling continued as you started crying, barely able to speak as sobs overcome you. The scent rolling off you shifted, indicating your distress. Steve's eyes widen and he drew you into his arms," hey, hey. It's okay. It'll be okay." You relax into his arms, nose tucked into the crook of his neck.

Steve feels your body shudder as your cries slow, inhaling slowly at his scent gland. The trill you let out shocking you and confirming Steve's thoughts. Steve hesitantly runs his hand up and down your spine in a comforting motion. "Honey...you're presenting. You're, " Steve clears his throat," you're an Omega." You shake your head "no" against his neck. "You can present until you're 25. Hell, I think the oldest person they know of was 40. It isn't an exact science-" Steve pauses, realizing Robin must be rubbing off on him as he's rambling.

Steve leans his back against the wall and shifts you around so you are between his legs. You are curled into his chest, nose still firmly pressed against his neck. Your tears have gone. Your scent is overpowering to Steve, completely entrancing him. A hint of spice, like nutmeg, mixed with that honey bodywash. Steve finds it ironic that he calls you Honey and here you are smelling so strong of it.

"I'm presenting," you mumble pulling back to look in Steve's eyes. "How will that work?" Steve hesitates, mouth opening slightly, before you cover his mouth with your hand," I don't mean like how omegas work. I get that. I guess...with like you and Eddie." You slowly lower your hand," I don't want to cause an issue."

"You won't." Steve says definitively, "Eddie always says he's married to rock and roll. We've never been the type to fight over territory. This is his house but it's also mine. We're all in a pack and we are all equal." "Even if I'm less tha-" "hey!" Steve's brow furrows and he holds your face in his hands," You are not less than. Anyone who thinks omegas are less than are idiots. You are not less than an alpha, and anyone who believes that bullshit needs some sense knocked into them."

You bite your lip but nod. "It's the first day right?" Steve asks, wondering if it's crossing a line. It is highly personal when an omega goes into heat. You don't seem to care, nodding your agreement. "Well, then today will be the easiest day. We can get a game plan set up tonight when Robin and Eddie come home. Get you some blankets and pillows. Get you snacks."

Steve shifts in his spot and your hands dart out and grab his biceps, "Don't leave!" Steve smiles softly at you," I won't. Not right now. Come here." Steve holds his arms open again for you. You slowly lean in and let him envelope you in his hold. Secure. Warm. Feeling entirely safe in his arms, you drift off to sleep. Steve can feel his heart bursting with love for you. A part of him knows that if you sought him out, you cared somewhat for him. But the other part screamed at him how he couldn't tell you his feelings yet. He didn't want you to feel like he was taking advantage of your new presentation.

So for now, he would be content with just sitting and holding you. Safe. Secure. Warm.

#The first of many lil fics but I wanted a basis of this world so that is why this is so descriptive #The next won't be #And yes there is no smut in this one but there will be in future ones but cmon you just learned life changing news #And your parts are still presenting as I wrote so #Is this the best NO but its a glimpse of what's to come #This has just been sitting here and I've had 0 guts to post so I said screw it I'll post it and then just continue with the universe #A/B/O dynamics #Alpha!Steve Harrington #Alpha!Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x you #Steve Harrington x y/n #Steve Harrington/reader #Steve Harrington/you #Stranger things #Jade is Talking

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lostheretics · 11 months

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PLOT TWIST (5)

▸ chapter 5: the rise of the new boss

pt. 1 || pt. 2 || pt. 3 || pt. 4 || pt. 5

✵ cast : jung wooyoung x fem!reader, kim hongjoong, lee juyeon, kim younghoon, ateez, mentioned oc and many kpop artists name or group

✵ genre : romance, marriage life, eventual angst, smut, mafia!au, non idol!au

✵ summary : there was a saying that learning is a lifelong process. what will you learn about the underworld, the first time you stepped into it? you might have what they call a beginner’s luck, but will that be enough for the things you’ll be facing soon?

✵ notes : stopped counting on how many words but i try to make it lengthy as possible. thanks for waiting, to those whoever awaits i guess. i was thinking of making a taglist for this fic. taglist will be used for updates; ANY updates regarding PT. just drop ur @ in my askbox. also, PLS REBLOG.

WARNINGS BELOW CUT

☒ warnings: none for now but do remind me if there’s one. a lil bit of discrimination from wooyoung but not in a bad way (kinda, but not that bad)

☒ i do not condone mafia acts nor any acts that goes against the law at all. everything mentioned are just purely fiction, made to entertain myself and fellow readers in this particular platforms.

☒ do not repost this on any other platform without my permission!

✓ reblogging, liking, and commenting this post in tumblr (through comment or askbox) are very much appreciated.

you believe in destiny, fate, universe, whatever they’re called. you put your whole faith in it. you trusted them and their work, putting one and one together to make to or even ten. after all, it's also the one reason you and wooyoung beat all odds and be together.

but not to this extent. you refused to believe it.

to believe the pair of arms that caught you just days before became the arms that lead you in a dance session. to believe the same pair of brown eyes to look at you once more. to believe that the stranger who helped you when you almost faint, in work, embarrassingly, is to be the one you work with. your new goal.

cue the famous line from that one song, what kind of fuckery is this?

“you seemed so quiet for someone who’s looking for an ally.”

uhm, because i’m fucking flabbergasted? too stunned to speak?

“i hope you don’t plan on running away, again.” he added, “i just wanna get to know you.”

you laughed nervously, “of course not, sir- uh, mr. kim,” you stuttered, “i don’t know how to properly address you.”

he twirled you before catching you in his arms again. “mr. kim would suffice for now. though i hope we’ll get close enough in the future to be on first name basis.” younghoon said. “and how should i address you? miss y/n? mrs. jung?”

“anything’s fine mr. kim.”

the dance continued.

it was a moment where you could finally savor, or, to put it less romantically and more professionally, it was a moment where you could finally take a good look on the man.

kim younghoon's name has been there for some time, but little was known about his private life. typical of the seoul kims. his business life, however, is the talk of the town.

he never failed in pursuing his business endeavors, alongside his brother. not a single dirt on his name was found despite him still being young in the field. the kim brothers; kim younghoon himself and his younger brother kim seokhun were every parents dream on a child, especially one with a family business.

his soft brown eyes were ones you'll never forget. they were so soft, unlike the ones you saw all your life; dull, full of hatred, and all that bad stuff. and the way his eyes smiled along when he smiled... you thought, a man this soft and pure-looking shouldn't be working in this part of the world.

"juyeon sent you to work with me, but i know he wanted more than just that." younghoon muttered. his hard gaze was evident despite him not looking at you, opting to scan the room.

"he wanted something regarding my family."

"mr. lee sent me to work with you, yes. we're grateful that he even mentioned our name and recommending us to you. however, he did so because he believed my group's main business is in the same field as yours, and that it'll make more sense." you said, ever so carefully while studying his face. you took a bold move, putting your body closer to his while strengthening your hold on his shoulder.

"but, regardless of that, i would truly like to work with you, mr. kim. my group wishes to. i'd like to try it with you, and i hope you can make good use of ateez in the future, as well as lending a hand for us to step further, higher, and better in the business." you declared. "i'm not blind. i know what's happening between your family and the lees, and i don't have a say in it at all. but i would like for you to consider work between ateez and the kims, unrelated to any of the lees." you reassured.

and lastly, for the cherry on top, you stared straight on his eyes, pleading.

"give us the chance to prove ourself, mr. kim."

younghoon just stared at you, while his brain processed everything you just said. you were right, the kims main business in the medicine field were compatible with kang industries that yeosang ran with his sister. that alone could be a reason for the both of you to actually talk business with each other.

he was a businessman after all, any chance is worth something if you pursue it first.

the music stopped, meaning the dance session ended. clapping sounds were heard all over the hall. you took your hands off of younghoon's, bowing at the said man.

you thought it just ended like that, but it took you by surprise when younghoon took your hand in his, raising your knuckles to his lips before landing a gentlemanly kiss ok the back of your hand. his eyes never left you when he sent you a soft smile.

"i'll have my secretary invite ateez for a business talk. as soon as the gala ends" he stated, before continuing, "it was a nice dance, mrs. jung."

"party's done. everyone retreating in ten."

wooyoung chugged down his champagne while scanning around the room, giving nods to every member in his sight as a sign. he greeted the rest of his acquaintance, before leaving the scene.

just as he was about to exit the hall, a hand landed on his shoulder, stopping him in his track. a once scowl on his face turned into a friendly smile when he turned around and was greeted by seo changbin.

"my man, binnie!" he gave the buff man a hug, not to mention a tap on his back. "what's up?"

"not much. are you guys leaving already?" he asked while looking around, noting some ateez members already heading out of the hall. he clicked his tongue in an unapproved manner. "it's still early, though. how am i gonna catch up with my best friend?" he lightly pouted.

"the only thing you'll catch is these hands if you ever do that thing again." wooyoung jested, and changbin only laughed.

once the laugh died down, he took a step closer to wooyoung, lowering his voice as he watched around.

"got some words from chan. mind sparing me some time?"

wooyoung lifted his wrist to watch the time. he still got eight minutes left. he nodded at changbin before leading the man away from the crowd, opting for a quieter side of the hall just by its door.

"what's up? business doing okay?" he asked.

changbin only shrugged, "it's fine. work here and there, cusses, blood, what's new?" then he raised his hand to rest on wooyoung's shoulder. "congrats to ateez, by the way." he complimented.

he then stated, "it's the talk of the town right now, you know? the fact that ateez, a gang took down a royal family, by a new member no less. i'm talking about your wife, mrs. jung y/n." changbin chuckled lightly when he saw a change in wooyoung's expression, a cocky smirk along with a subtle red tint on his cheeks. a sense of pride rose within wooyoung.

"a good catch they say."

wooyoung almost giggled. "damn right. thanks for the words though,"

done with the chitchat, changbin cleared his throat as he turned to wooyoung.

"chan said he met your wife at some casual networking party just a couple months ago, hongjoong did the introduction. safe to say he was intrigued." wooyoung turned his head to changbin upon his choice of words.

lifting a brow, he chuckled. "same thing happened to me before i married her."

changbin clicked his tongue, "not in that way, of course." he objected, slightly cringing over the thoughts of his boss creating a drama worthy act like that. "you know chan, you've heard about it, right? that he rarely missed when it comes to judging someone, especially the businessmen or women."

"i've heard some of it. and what about it?"

"the other day he sort of said something about y/n and talents, that she could be a big thing soon. and surprise, surprise, not long after that the news came like a fucking thunder, a shock to everyone and especially chan. ateez was about to lose but she just casually lifted you up and took down the whole family."

checking at his watch, he quickly pointed out. "so, what does he want exactly?"

"chan's got an info. an inside job. new weapon supplies and exchanges, i'm talking new types and big money. the job's too big to take for us alone and he already thought of making a collaboration between our team since ateez got a good capo, and you got mingi and yunho on weaponries. your reputations preceded you," he exhaled, before continuing. "but ever since he met y/n and heard of the news, he wanted to go even further. chan wants y/n in the job. with your captain's permission, of course, but he wants her to directly sit on the table where he and hongjoong will be. chan wanted me to tell you that, and he hopes to hear good answers from hongjoong."

by the time changbin was done with his explanations, wooyoung was already stunned. he was taken aback at the fact that you rose so quick to be able to catch other's attention. he was slightly agape, eyes widened. to be able to stand beside hongjoong, to sit right next to him is to be next to the captain by rank. though unofficial, the conversation itself could be a proof that you're an equal to seonghwa and yeosang.

you had him floored, truly.

"could you please try to put some words to hongjoong? chan really wants this." changbin's plead broke wooyoung's train of thoughts.

he nodded lightly. "i'll see what i can do," he promised the man.

he lifted his wrist once more. seeing the time had passed, he took a step back. "i have to go now. i'll let you know of the outcome soon."

"wait!" changbin almost yelled, stopping wooyoung on his track.

"what?" he asked. changbin hurriedly walk to wooyoung as his hands dug around his suit pocket. upon finding the item, he quickly put the piece of paper in wooyoung's pocket.

"i almost forgot." changbin moved closer towards wooyoung and whispered, "come to the show. capos business. yeonjun found a new spot, some rough diamonds ready to be trained if you're recruiting new members."

he stepped back, tapping on wooyoung's pocket before retreating.

"thank me later."

“they’re leaving the premises, sir.” 

the minion retreated, leaving juyeon and his champagne on the balcony. his eyes watched as a couple of cars left his mansion, particularly the last car that carried you and your husband.

it was something that he used to love to do with his father; watching people come and go. the only difference were his father is no longer around, and that it has become his job.

upon watching the way you sway in the dress he gave, hand in hand with your husband as you got in the car, he gripped on his glass harder as he tried to breathe, not even realizing he was holding his breath the entire time. there was this uneasiness, a storm brewing in the pit of his stomach. he didn’t believe in anything unworldly or superstitious, but he believed in himself. of what he sees, what he feels, what he understands.

it didn’t take long for him to saw power in ateez.

one that could endanger his, though he didn’t know the source nor the reason for it. for that, he’ll have to dig deeper.

“something’s coming.” he murmured, enough to be heard by another party standing behind him. he whispered again, “i can feel it in my bones.”

park jipsa, the one who stood behind him sighed, “are you afraid?”

“never.”

“then you’ll know what to do.”

if there ever was something brighter than the sun, it must’ve been hongjoong’s grin, pulled all the way back showing his pearly smiles you thought his skin would soon tear apart.

the man was practically beaming.

and you silently took pride in being one of the reason so.

“business looking good.”

“damn right it is.”

it was just you, hongjoong, seonghwa, and yeosang in the room. breakfast was done and group meeting ended, yet the ambitious man kept you around to discuss everything further. there were papers scattered, calls made, and coffees on the table.

“i’ve checked around,” yeosang chipped in, while rearranging the documents discussed for the meeting, “if we’re actually working with the kims, emphasize on if, if everything works, we’ll have easier access to some of our stuff, both importing and exporting. the drug development is looking good right now, and we’ll have much exposure with their help. we’re gonna make more money soon.”

“that sounds good, yeosang. great, actually.” hongjoong beamed, smiling at yeosang. the man stood near his desk, phone still in his hand, just finishing a deal went well.

seonghwa chuckled, “you feel good?”

“fuck yeah, hwa. yeah i feel good.” he almost screamed. “of course i feel good, everything’s looking good like this. and if it actually works i might do a somersault myself.”

“you look like you’re gonna do that now.”

you laughed along with the guys.

after pacing back and forth, energetically, and with happy thoughts one would assume the mafia leader might be a child trapped in a man’s body, hongjoong finally sat down. he tapped his fingers on the table, before finally making up his mind, pointing at each party around him.

“okay, here’s what. we have so much in our hands right now, but i’d like for everything to work out and i put my trust in you guys,” hongjoong stared at each of you, “i’m all in for you.”

he pointed at seonghwa. “i’m sending seonghwa to japan to settle down. you’ll be our representation there hwa, until i finish things in here. the most important thing is to make a powerful link to that family.” he said, moving to yeosang as soon as seonghwa nodded his head.

“yeosang, as usual with kang industries, but i want you to bring y/n around as a representative too. she’s gonna be the link between us to the kims and drug business, so it’s good for the both of you.”

you and yeosang couldn’t help but to stole glances, surprised by the mission but acknowledging each other still.

hongjoong raised his phone, tapping it several times before speaking again, “wooyoung got words from chan last night, and chan just made a call this morning. he wants a collaboration between our group for a job. there are new weapons coming in, big job. chan’s got his hand on it but figured it’d be too big to handle alone, but dangerous if handled by too many. so we’re in, and i’m also taking y/n in this, per chan’s request.”

he turned to you. “you’re gonna have so much in your hands this time, you know this right?”

you nodded.

“but with stray kids, you’ll just be a spectator on the table. i’ll handle the big game with chan. i want you to focus more on the kims and kang industries. your main job right now is the kims. do you understand?”

“yes.”

“good.”

birds fly fast.

but the rumors flew faster in this house.

it didn’t take long for everyone in this house to find out about you. and your new… job. or perhaps rank. a housewife turned… consigliere? underboss? hongjoong hasn’t give you an official rank within the group yet. however it didn’t take a genius to see how high up your position were.

you’re working straight with yeosang, second in command in ateez next to seonghwa, ateez’s face and representative in the outside world. your job was as important as seonghwa’s, hongjoong’s righthand man, the underboss of ateez. each of every job you’ve done you’d report back straight to hongjoong, and hongjoong took you almost everywhere he goes.

on top of that, you’ve been giving counsels to hongjoong even before you had your debut in the underworld.

you’re as good as a consigliere, just not officially, yet.

there was contentment, of course, yet it also comes with burdens. one that you fear you wouldn’t be able to bear. but you will do your best, for your family. for wooyoung. to make him proud.

and he couldn’t be more proud of you.

wherever ateez goes, wherever he goes, he wouldn’t stop gushing about you every time someone brought your name up. lowkey, of course. just to make sure everyone knows you’re his wife. that you’re great, yes, but you’re definitely off limits.

exactly like tonight.

he eyed the piece of paper in his hand, before eyeing the traditional restaurant in front of him. it was a small, dimly-lit building. an old woman walked around, delivering orders though not much, as they didn’t have much customers for the night.

he fished out his phone out from his pocket, typing a name before pressing the call button.

“hello?” changbin’s voice rang through his speaker.

“i’m outside. are you sure this is the place?” wooyoung asked, throwing glances with yunho, jongho, and san behind him.

“it’s a small restaurant, right? did you see the old lady?”

“yeah? and?”

changbin chuckled, “just get in. take a seat, and when she asked for your order, just ask her if mr. kim’s soju is on the menu today. come fast, the match’s about to start.” and with that, changbin hanged up.

putting his phone back on his pocket, he whisked his head, signaling the boys to enter the place with him. they took a table, and before long, the old lady came to their table, asking for their orders. wooyoung looked around, making sure no one’s hearing them, before getting closer to the lady.

“is mr. kim’s soju on the menu today?”

the old lady just smiled and nodded. “it’s stored just right there. come along and pick for yourself, young man.”

that’s how they got into the hidden basement deep under the ground, by an elevator just behind the fridge in the kitchen.

when the elevator stopped, changbin was standing in the hallway. he greeted them with a smile, shaking wooyoung’s hand firmly.

“cool place, right?” he quipped, then shook hands with jongho, yunho, and san.

changbin led them further into the basement. even from the hallway, rough noises were already heard, and it got louder as they got closer.

illegal fights weren’t a secret anymore. but as they got deeper, more secluded, the more blood got spilled, the more animalistic the fighters get, the bigger the prize. this is where the mafias recruit new members, new associates.

the rings were surrounded by rough looking men, some older, some younger. the fighter on the ring looked all bloody and bruised, but still standing on their feet fighting for their life. hollers here and there, nothing new.

they all took a table not far from the ring. yeonjun and beomgyu were seen, along with jisung and jeongin. they greeted each other.

“the consigliere’s husband!” yeonjun quipped with a playful tap on wooyoung’s back. wooyoung chuckled. with pride, of course.

“so what’s the hype?” wooyoung asked, half yelling to catch yeonjun’s attention. the lad pointed his finger to each rings, getting himself close to wooyoung and the others.

“gems. lots of them,” he yelled, pointing at one of the ring, “see that guy over there?” he asked, pointing at a tall man, not buff, but muscular and calculative enough to look not so affected while his opponent looked like he’s about to faint.

yeonjun spoke again, “he’s an ex NIS agent. i think he got ousted, betrayed, whatever. and that’s just one of the few. there are other fighters, former gang members, ex police, ex NIS, ex professionals— whatever we’re looking for. so take a pick!” he said, before continuing.

“but be careful, they also might be onto something if they go this deep. either all in or all out.”

the pungent smell of blood was nothing new, combined with the smell of sweat of all people, burnt cigarettes, liquors of all kinds. in fact, none of them seemed to be distracted by any of the smell, the sound, or even the people who were drunk off their minds falling around them.

their eyes, especially wooyoung’s were focused on each ring or around the room, scanning all within the room trying to find new recruits or maybe new connections.

a bell was heard, a ring near them just announced a winner before quickly moving on. a pair of new fighters stepped onto the ring, one of them a rough looking men, presumably already fought a fight before this one, and his opponent…

…a woman?

her hair was tied up, cuts and bruises here and there but not enough to disguise her beauty. physically she’s far smaller than the man, less muscular, yet she hold no fear in her eyes.

“what’s a pretty girl doing in this hellhole?” wooyoung murmured,

right before the girl ducked down and punched his opponent right on his chest, hard enough to make him cut his breath. then landed a punch to his right cheek, followed by his left cheek. and a final kick to his head, quickly sending the man to his sleep, hopefully not an eternal one.

and that’s how she won the game.

not to mention leaving wooyoung speechless. that was a quick game. and she looked like a gem. a fighter like that would make jobs easier, faster, and more efficient.

he was deep in his thoughts, until san nudged him, “are you seeing what i’m seeing?”

wooyoung looked back at san, observing his line of sight, only to bring his eyes back to the said woman.

a gem in sight indeed.

“her?”

“yes, her. we need her. i want her. we gotta take her.” he mouthed. he then pulled wooyoung by the shoulder, and proceeded to stare into wooyoung’s eyes with the most serious look he could muster. “seriously wooyoung, i can’t handle this charmer—grifter shit alone anymore. we need a charmer. and i mean it.”

“san, we’re on budget and we’re here to look for a bodyguard—“ he was about to state but san had cut him off.

“did you not see the way she threw that punches? she can be a bodyguard. she is muscle.”

“yes, but—“ wooyoung hesitated, “i don’t know man, a lady bodyguard?”

san gasped. “that’s discrimination, what the fuck?”

“not in that way!” wooyoung bit back, “i don’t know man, i’m just not sure. she’s all great, it’s just—”

“but what?” san pressed.

san wasn’t wrong, they do need a charmer. san was the only charmer ateez had— they do have others, just not as good as san, hence the lad had to do most jobs by himself. the last time they had a good charmer other than san, but they got killed in action.

being a grifter, a charmer, he did get to know most thing and even on the deeper part of the underworld. any place he want, anyone, he could get through anything, most of the times. but ultimately, he was fed up. doing what he did best alone might finally took a toll on him.

so with the hard look, now turned puppy eyes, there was no way wooyoung could say no to san, the charmer himself.

he sighed. “you know what? fuck that. go and get her if you want.”

there were probably fireworks bursting behind san’s eyes, that’s the only logical reason (though far from logic itself) for the sparkle in his eyes. choi san quickly bolted away from the table, adamant on getting and recruiting the woman.

wooyoung, with yunho and jongho on the other hand sticked to the main plan; find new muscles to recruit. yeonjun, changbin and their own gang were soon scattered around the basement with their own mission to accomplish. jongho was still looking around, and yunho was still seen talking to the possible recruits.

wooyoung was just talking to one of the possible recruit, giving them his business card when san pulled him away to a corner. he kept guiding on wooyoung with this grin on his face, pushing him around until wooyoung finally faced the lady they’ve been talking about.

“so this is wooyoung,” san made the intro, “he’s our trainer, supervisor, and not to mention my best friend. and we—” he stepped back behind wooyoung, “—are interested in taking you in with us.”

taking a good look in the closer distance, she looked even better. her skin looked soft, save some scratches and scars here and there, but they were mostly healed leaving just a white mark. her eyes were brown, and like when she was on the ring, had this striking look.

this one’s definitely a charmer. she just needs to be guided, and they got a perfect teacher for her. stretching his hand out, wooyoung offered her a formal handshake.

“wooyoung.”

she watched his stretched hand for a while. the unsure glint in her eyes started to flicker along the time, and she finally took wooyoung’s hand.

“son jiwoo.”

the tall, black door seemed so big and scary.

despite it being just a plain door to a restaurant.

you might think it’s the door, but a part of you knew more than that. that wasn’t just a door you had to pass, a restaurant you must enter.

kim younghoon was waiting somewhere in that restaurant for you. this was going to be your first meeting with younghoon, and you gotta make sure it’s going well. this is your first big mission, as a member of ateez.

you straighten your floral dress, fixing any possible crease before stepping inside. a waiter came to your aid, giving their best smile, “may i help you?”

you smiled back. “i have a reservation, with mr. kim younghoon. is he here?”

the waiter smiled even wider, “ah, madam! yes, mr. kim has been waiting for you. let me take your jacket.” they spoke, as they pulled your jacket off of you. “if you please follow me, madam.”

the waiter guided you to a table near the glass window, where you found younghoon sitting in a formal, yet casual look. the white fitted top and light brown pants. upon the announcement of your arrival, kim younghoon turned his head, offering you a smile so bright. the gentlemen even stood up, pulling your seat for you instead of letting the waiter do that for you.

“you look nice.” he complimented.

“and you more. i thought the suits were your best look, but these? gorgeous.”

he chuckled, “trying to charm me straight away, i see.”

“yes, but some truth can’t be hidden for too long. i also have to charm my future colleague for a chance, right?” you quipped back, earning a soft laugh from younghoon.

“you’re straightforward. i like it, it’s also the way that i am and used to.” he said. he laid back to his chair, looking at you before asking, “a straightforward man gotta speak his mind, am i right?”

“yes they do, i suppose.”

he took your answer in silence. he looked out through the window, watching the bright afternoon sky and people on the street,, seemingly deep in thoughts. gone were the light atmosphere when you got there.

then younghoon spoke one sentence and a question. the easiest way to phrase and conclude your whole mission.

“i know juyeon sent you to fix things between our families. correct?”

upon the sudden intrusion, your body froze for a second. your lips almost quivered, letting out broken words, having nothing to come up with. kim younghoon fired a bullet and it hit right on the bullseye. and he didn’t even mention anything about anything work related, despite that being one of your most important reason to pursue him.

younghoon’s eyes were back on you, and you had no choice but to spit the truth out.

“yes, you’re right, mr. kim,” you sighed, but not yet defeated. “and i’m aware of… the gap between your families, that it’s not in a good condition.”

“how much did you know?”

“that your family was a supporter to lee jiyoung back when the war was happening.” you stated.

he clicked his tongue, “i wish it was as easy as that, mrs. jung.” he sighed as he leaned back onto his chair.

“i wish to help in many ways, mr. kim. in this way, because juyeon sent me for this reason. but other than that, a work with your family is what my family aim for. a personal gain. both, or one of them is enough for me and i’m willing to do the job.” you told him, straightforwardly. “is there something i can do to fix this?”

“to fix the gap between the lees and kims? i don’t know, mrs. jung. i’m not sure if there’s a way at all,” he shrugged.

but he quickly added in, “but, regarding ateez and my family, i think we both have a chance for that. i’ve spoken with my father, and maybe, just maybe, if this works, we’ll consider juyeon’s purpose of… mending the two families. now the question remain; would you take the job, and could you do it well?”

“i’m willing to try and do my best for anything.”

“anything?”

“anything.”

the man smiled, grinning almost. “then it starts now.” he said. younghoon raised his hand, catching the sight of a waiter.

entrees were served, followed by main dishes. younghoon and you talked about each other, and he talked a lot about himself.

how he and his brother were raised in england, before moving at the age of 15 back to korea. he went to university, took classes in law school before graduating, not only from a prestigious uni but also with honors. since that, he’s been helping his father around along with his brother regarding their family business, as they’re the ones who’s going to take their father’s place place someday.

kim younghoon was born with a silver spoon in his mouth.

yet he seemed far from those whiny nepo babies who fed themselves off of their father’s pocket, but act like they rule the whole world. his family’s money might back him up, but he ruled his own brain, branding himself as the smart and hardworking guy from a wealthy family who could lead even without his father’s hand in the matter.

in short, he’s a man that everyone dreams to become.

the conversation went smooth up until dessert was served. you couldn’t help yourself but to blurt out, “so, what’s the job? when am i gonna do it?”

“oh, we’re actually doing it right now,” he quipped, putting another slice of cake into his mouth.

“what?”

younghoon didn’t say anything, only flicking his hand to call for the waiter. the waiter soon came with a bright smile as they put a velvet box right in front of you. not forgetting to say what a lucky woman to have a partner like that.

a partner?

you were still not functioning perfectly, still deep in your thoughts and confused even when younghoon pushed the velvet box towards you. “open it.” he said.

“mr. kim, i— i’m, i’m not sure i—“ you had stuttered, but he silenced you up.

“just open the box.”

per his command, your hands moved to open the box. upon the first touch, you could feel the soft velvet under your fingers, quickly understanding the high quality of the box, and perhaps, the item within it. curiosity might kill the cat, but not you, you believed as you opened the box and found a piece of necklace within it. a pearl necklace stared back at you from that box.

wordlessly, younghoon stood up. he took the necklace out of its box before bringing it near your neck. his hands softly moved your hair to the side, and you quickly responded by bunching your hair in your fist, giving him access to your bare neck. as he put on the necklace, he lowered his lips next to your ear.

“you’ll find a woman to your right, dressed in all green. she’s mrs. han, a socialite in gangnam and wife to mr. han, one of the most important people in the ministry of health,” he whispered to you, “she knows me, and might’ve been watching us since the beginning. she has a daughter around our age and she had been wanting to… arrange a marriage between our families.”

“and my job is…?”

finishing on putting the necklace on, younghoon simply smiled to you. “…to be my partner. fiancee, girlfriend, whatever. to put on a show. i don’t want to be engaged in that way, but i have a brother and he’s willing to do that in my stead,”

“there’s an upcoming socialite party, and a little birdie told me you’re quite… persuasive,” he started to explain, “if you can get us an invitation, put some good words and convince her to make an arrangement between her daughter and my brother, you’ll have your way with my family. you see, we need this connection. a connection with her husband makes it easier for our drug business, even in exporting and importing. mr. han is one of the man ruling the country. prove yourself, and my father promises to invite you for a dinner, to talk about future business with ateez. even with the lees. and the offer’s still up even though you only succeeded in securing an invitation for us to the party.”

he straightened his back, offering his hand to you, “there’s still a chance to back out.”

you weren’t sure, but you shook your head and took his hand, “i won’t.”

younghoon smiled, almost so brightly, a quick change from his previous hard demeanor. he landed a long lasting kiss on the back of your hand, another added shock to you. you almost stuttered and about to pull your hand when he spoke,

“the necklace looks dashing on you, sweetheart.” he almost purred, shocking you.

“kim younghoon?”

the latter’s voice stopped you from pulling away. younghoon simply turned to the lady who called his name, giving her a smile.

“mrs. han,” he greeted back, bowing slightly, “good to see you again.”

mrs. han only chuckled, “then you should’ve visit me more often. i haven’t seen you around in any of my gatherings.” she looked behind younghoon, at you. “and i certainly have never seen this lovely lady with her lovely necklace around.” she quipped.

younghoon gave his hand for you to take, and you did, standing up from your seat next to him. “let me introduce you to my fiancee, y/n. she’s the reason i’m not around much, mrs. han. you can blame her for it.” he once again kissed your hand in a cheeky manner, and you giggled following his act. “i can’t seem to get her out of my life.” he continued.

you bowed slightly to the lady, offering her a sweet smile. “my name is y/n, pleasure to meet you mrs. han. younghoon told me many things about you.” you introduced yourself.

“all the good things, i hope.”

“don’t worry ma’am, he made me think you’re a great woman. and it shows now.”

she laughed, feeling content with your answer.

“and he didn’t forget to tell me how much of a good host you are for your party.” you smirked, starting your mission.

by the time you came home, it was almost midnight. you knew wooyoung would’ve fallen asleep by then, so you tiptoed your way into your room, with your heels in your hands.

your heart almost jumped out of your chest when the light suddenly turned on.

“where have you been?”

“shit, woo!” you cussed while holding your chest, almost panting. “baby? why aren’t you sleeping?”

wooyoung sat on the edge of your bed with his arms folded as he stared at you. “obviously, i was waiting for you.” he deadpanned, “you know i couldn’t sleep without you. so where have you been?”

you exhaled, feeling guilty that you left the man waiting for until midnight, completely forgetting the existence of modern phones and to tell him of your whereabouts. “oh, baby,” you walked up to him, cradling his face in your palms.

“i’m so sorry i made you wait,” you kissed his forehead, “i had lunch with kim younghoon, and he gave me a task. i spent the whole day planning and then reporting to hongjoong, and we had a last minute meeting with stray kids. i should’ve told you, that’s my mistake,” you explained. wooyoung sighed defeatedly, finally accepting your apologies. he circled his hands on your waist.

“it’s okay.” he muttered.

you told him to get ready for bed, while you freshen up in the bathroom, finally ready to end the night. your body felt warm, being in your comfiest pajamas, and your heart follows when you saw wooyoung on bed tucked nicely under the blanket, with his arm stretched out welcoming you in his embrace.

“how was today’s scouting?” you asked with a small voice.

“it was okay,” he answered, listing the things he had done. “got some new muscles that i gotta train. met yeonjun and changbin. and… oh!” he gasped, making you look up to him.

“what is it?”

“you know, me and san found this girl while scouting, she was badass,” he said and you could practically see the sparks in his eyes, “she fought this buff man in like, 5 seconds, though i think the man was more of muscle than skills, but isn’t that cool? san wanted her so bad he ran straight to her after the fight.”

“anyways i didn’t want to scout her at first but san would probably held me on a gunpoint if i refuse him—“ you both laughed, “—yeah right? so long story short we probably got ourselves a new charmer. i think san’s gonna teach her more, but i’ll still have to take part in physical training.”

you hummed, “san fell in love at the first sight, huh?”

wooyoung nodded, “i think i did too.”

you playfully hit his chest, making him wince dramatically as he held his chest.

“jung wooyoung! don’t you dare fall in love with her!” you threatened him. the bastard husband of yours grinned.

“are you jealous?”

“hm, i don’t know. what would you think if i hooked up with kim younghoon?”

“hey!” he whined, clearly not liking the idea of you and another man side by side. not even one bit. and that was something everyone know, and some even witnessed it with their own eyes, referring to your previous encounter with lee juyeon.

you laughed to his blatant jealousy, and maybe, seeing the smile in your face and the sound of your melodic laugh to his ears were the reason for him laughing along with you.

wooyoung pulled you close to his body, putting his chin on top of your head. the smell of your shampoo invaded his nose, and somewhat it relaxed him all the time. maybe it’s your shampoo, or maybe, it’s the fact that you’re close to him.

he breathes slowly, but you could hear his heart beating fast behind his chest. some things change, but you realize one thing stays the same; his heartbeat. whenever you put your head to his chest you always hear the same fast beat from his heart.

and you know yours beats the way his did.

“i can never love anyone else but you.”

his voice pierced through the silence as he murmured the words into your hair.

maybe it was his voice. maybe it was the sentence, the words. maybe it’s both things combined, the reason why you feel such warmth in your heart and the pleasant butterflies flying in your stomach. the combination of two simple things, yet magical enough for you to take it as a sign of love.

love.

you buried your face into his chest, trying to hide your smile. all you could say was, “i love you, woo.”

simple sentence that also warmed his heart.

to both lovers like you, those moment felt like it’s just you both against the world. in your vows; both in happiness or sadness.

“will i see you again?”

wooyoung suddenly asked. the nature of the question making you pull away from him, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

“what kind of question is that?” you asked back, looking up to his face.

he seemed doubtful, that was clearly painted all over his face, visible from his eyes, the way it glinted.

wooyoung sighed. “i don’t know. you have a job, so many things to do now that hongjoong trusts you. and i’m happy for you, baby, i truly do, it’s just—“ he hesitated for a while before continuing.

“it’s— what if you get busier? what if we get so busy that… that we can’t even share a proper meal together like we used to? what if we can’t see each other as much as we used to back when we have less things to do? what if i can’t even hug you in my sleep at night? what if—“

“—what if we changed so much and turn in a direction we don’t want?”

late night thoughts do bring the most genuine question. and his was a valid one.

it’s no secret that marriage, no matter how sweet, how hot or cold, can suddenly turn lukewarm, tasteless, or even turn sour over the time.

that would be a nightmare. one that can turn very real, in any time, near or far.

to imagine a tasteless marriage life with your passionate husband made you crawl closer to him, burying your face in his chest to seek more warmth. the more seconds went the more you appreciate his prescence. taking in everything you could.

just in case it’d be your last.

“i promise we won’t turn that way, my love. i’ll do anything to keep us together. keep us, keep you safe.” you murmured into his chest.

“you just have to promise to love me still. like this. even when times go rough, when it eats us inside out, body and soul. even with the last sparks of love you have for me, love me. until i’m not here beside you.” you continued. you felt suffocated, unconsciously the littlest sniffle got out of you with the tears. “you’re all i have, wooyoung.”

desperation in it’s truest form.

but it’s true, you have no one but your husband. no family, no nothing. not even a life, if it was not for the past, or the present, given by your husband and his kin. and now that you’ve associated yourself with them, you, who used to have nothing, now have something. and it fears you to imagine losing them.

to go back to the solitude you were in before.

hearing your cries crushed him. he tightened his hands around you, securing you in his grasp, giving you the most comfort one could give. he might regret the way he voiced out his concerns today, yet it was an important question within your relationship.

and a silent way to say that he fears of losing you, too.

“i’m here, baby. i love you,” he said, giving a peck on your hair,

“and i promise to keep that love for as long as i live.”

NOT EVEN HALFWAY BUT I STILL WANNA FINISH THE WHOLE THING. enjoy. both in reading and waiting uwu

also we’re getting closer to… the start of the angst.

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myaoiboy · 6 months

Note

what are ur hcs for the boscelhira dynamic?

These bitches are so deeply unhealthy on every level lmaoooo

I'm super torn on whether Ocelot ever actually directly tells Big Boss that he's attracted to him, purely out of such a fucked up yandere level of hero worship. Especially before the Ground Zeroes incident I think he assumes a) that his feelings go without saying and b) that bibo is indestructible, and GZ is a huge wake up call for him. I have a fic in my wip folder about this exact thing because I'm obsessed with ocelot I am genuinely rotating him in my brain at all times. :3

Meanwhile Kaz is extremely straightforward. I feel like he has some fucked up ideas about masculinity and sexuality early on, but hey, gay people tend to congregate around all the snakes in large numbers, so any internalized homo/biphobia that he might have had has to evaporate pretty quickly. He definitely makes the first move on Bibo, he tries the moves that he uses on (many, many) women, and ends up getting absolutely plowed.

Big Boss, to me, is an autistic aroace king who doesn't really *get* sex and/or romance, but is down to fuck if only because he knows it's something other people put a lot of value on and it feels good, and as an extension of hand-to-hand combat. Because of that sex-as-an-extension-of-combat mindset I feel like he doesn't bottom much if ever (maybe, *MAYBE* if the Boss were into pegging, but lbr she's probably a lil too homophobic for that).

Kaz is cool with that, especially in the early MSF days. It's like having a tiger on a leash. He basically has a supersoldier to fuck him senseless.

I think maybe BB and Ocelot meet quietly on occasion through the MSF days, but if they fuck at all in this time it's mostly just what BB kind of assumes he's supposed to do, from interacting with Kaz. tbh Ocelot gets off from the weirdest shit so anything *real* is just a bonus.

Ocelot is *extremely* jealous of Kaz, not just for the sex, but for even getting to see Bibo on a regular basis. This fic is basically to me what I think their first meeting would/should be like (actually this whole series of fics is so good i recommend it): https://archiveofourown.org/works/37886539

(There's another fic that I looked for very quickly but couldn't find that includes Ocelot saying a line like "I just wanted to see what all the buzz was about" after they fuck, it may also be a part of that series, but I'm struggling rn lol)

Ocelot pretends it's not jealousy and is instead a totally justified dislike. Definitely thinks of him as Zero's slutty lapdog. He spends the time between MGS3/PO (take your pick on canonicity) and GZ keeping tabs on Snake for what he pretends are totally professional, impersonal, non-obsessive reasons. This is not true, obviously. Definitely hopes that Kaz is dead in the devastation.

Goes on an enormous bender between the attack and finding out that Bibo is alive, maybe the only time that he really, truly lets himself completely lose control. Definitely think at least once he gets REAL fucking close to ODing and gets to talk to the Sorrow for a lil bit. Might be how he finds out Snake isn't dead/won't die.

If they haven't at least hooked up anonymously before, Kaz and Ocelot definitely start to in this 9 year gap. Ocelot knows a lot about the human body and does some fancy acupunctury/knife-y stuff to help with the pain from his injuries because, y'know, they're stuck together for now.

Ocelot totally fucks Kaz because he's the person closest to Big Boss left in the world. Ocelot isn't much of a top himself, but he tops Kaz just to figure out what he's used to, using Kaz to build up this mental model of how Big Boss must fuck using the negative space he's left behind.

I genuinely think that up to this point they REALLY could have saved one another. They're one another's perfect foil, they cover one another's weaknesses, Kaz is all rage on his own behalf but doesn't know when to cut ties, Ocelot refuses to grow a single vertebra if it might inconvenience Big Boss.

I do think that Ocelot spent a lot of time at Zanzibarland, and that Kaz intentionally helped time Intrude F014 for a time that Ocelot wouldn't be there, from some lack of desire to kill his...complicated ex lover.

I think Ocelot would absolutely be furious that he wasn't let die with his boss, and intentionally lets Kaz live in 2005 as punishment (I like biblical allusion and so the idea of Kaz living the story of Cain/Pontius Pilate's doorman, cursed to live a wandering life until the second coming of jesus, or in Kaz's situation, the third(?) coming of Big Boss makes me kick my feet and giggle)

Gonna stop for now cause this is getting like. Comedically long for what you asked lol. But I am more than willing to talk about this forever i love them they're my favorite toxic barbies

but genuinely yall thank you, you're making me think about this which means that I can add a little more to the bunch of fics I have half written and scared to finish lmaoooo

#mgs #headcanon #bosselhira #bosselot #ocelhira #bbkaz #oops i went on way longer than i intended to lol #i am. so sorry lmao

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fox-wisp · 9 months

Text

Pretty Little Trophy

⊳⊳⊳ MINORS DNI. 18+ ⊲⊲⊲

⊳ Hajime Kokonoi x afab!reader

⊳ summary: it was the the way you chose him that made him want to choose you

⊳ word count: 2.7k

⊳ content warning: reader is a stripper. oral (f → m). cum swallowing. public foreplay. vaginal fingering. slight daddy kink mentions from koko. reader is obsessed with koko highkey.

⊳⊳⊳ this is my first fic being posted on here. feedback is welcomed. Go easy on me. idk how i actually ended up with a koko short lil sumn sumn before anyone else but here we are.

not beta read

p.s if someone wanna teach me how to use tumblr that'd be greatly appreciated lolol ⊲⊲⊲

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

There weren’t many things in this world that could make a frugal man like Hajime Kokonoi spend his money without limit. Yet somehow he found himself in front of this strip club thrice a week ready to spend any amount to have even just a few moments with you.

You were the number one girl there. Almost everyone that frequented this club wanted you, yet for some reason you always found your pert ass hovered over Koko’s hardening cock as he kept one grip loosely on your hip and the other adjusting his ever tightening pants. He wasn’t quite sure just why you picked him, either. Sure, he was one of the top executives in Bonten and the way he dressed screamed of his wealth but Kokonoi never spent more than the politically appropriate amount when he was forced to come to this club for any meetings. There were plenty of members that spent twice if not three times as much as he did on a regular basis.

Yet that didn’t seem to deter you at all. It was as if the moment you set your eyes on him you became so hyper fixated on pleasing him. On making him yours. It didn’t matter if Koko was in the middle of a meeting, a cigar lit while his eyes drifted from documents he had no interest in, letting the loud sounds of his comrades fade into the back. Just when he was comfortable, a pair of arms wrapped around his shoulders and he heard the unmistakable mellifluous lilt that was your voice. “Hajimeee~ I missed you baby,” You were never afraid to use his first name, something that had an effect on Koko that he refused to admit to you, lest he be forced to see that victorious glitter in your mischievous gaze. Your breath on the shell of his ear made him shiver the slightest bit. It didn’t go unnoticed by you, and your grip tightened on him just that much more.

Despite your profession and the people you’ve come to associate yourself with, you were a good girl – at least, that’s what Koko had gathered in those moments where you sat on his lap like the pretty little trophy you were, sipping your drink and fiddling with the buttons on his shirt coyly. Life had done what it does best and fucked you out of a fair future, and before you knew it you found yourself half dressed, pleasing the eyes of those around you for a living. You took care of your family with that money, and you were even putting some away for the future of the little ones in your life.

That alone made him bite his bottom lip as he appraised you as if it were the first time he’d ever seen you before. He leaned forward just enough to talk over the music, lips mere inches away from yours while his fingers traced imaginary designs into your upper thigh before letting the palm of his hand rest comfortably on your hip. “Looks like m’baby isn’t just a pretty face, hm?” He couldn’t stop his bemused expression at the way you simply preen under his words of praise and his soft, encouraging yet provocative touches. You looked like there was nowhere you’d rather be than there on his lap like the obedient girl you were. Koko’s chuckle was genuine as he brushed his dual colored bangs out of his vision before leaning down and claiming your lips as his.

He’d known for a while now just how you felt about him. In the beginning, he was thrown off, maybe even a bit amused that someone of your caliber would want anything to do with him. Usually girls like you only wanted anything to do with the men with loose pockets. Time progressed, though, and suddenly the idea of Hajime Kokonoi claiming you as his own became less of something improbable and more of something inevitable. Your body did something to him that no other woman had ever been able to do. You lured him in like a temptress despite your sincerity. It made him act in ways he would usually rebuke, but something about you brought out the most obscene sides of him. A part of him cursed the need he felt to respect you, wanting nothing more than to slip your panties to the side and let you slide down onto his cock, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips while he encouraged you to not stop riding him despite their audience, to stay professional while you were split open on his cock in front of all these people. He was sure you would do it for him too no matter how embarrassing it would be for you. Koko had the feeling that you would do just about anything for him if he asked you.

Instead, he settled for what he could get. He threw money into the air around you, saving his larger bills to slide into the slips of your bra, watching in satisfaction when you’d throw your head back and moan the slightest bit when his calloused fingers brushed against your sensitive nipples, his sharp gaze commiting your face of pleasure to memory while his tongue swiped across his lower lip looking very much like a hungry predator eyeing his prey.

Somehow you’d become the one person in this world that Koko was rather generous with. You easily came home with at least ten thousand dollars after a night of spending time in his company. The part that made it so fun for Koko was that you didn’t even care about the money. You were so fucking hungry for him, eyeing him with those ‘fuck me’ eyes, doing anything and everything in your power to be within his space. You didn’t let other women near him, always invading his space like it was your own. In return, you catered to everything he needed: refilling his drinks, loosening his tie when he was visibly irritated by his ‘friends’, dumping his ashtray after hours of smoking in their group – the boys were starting to get jealous by the obvious preferential treatment.

After a while, he noticed that unless you were giving a public show, the only man you’d ever personally interact with in the club was Koko himself. When approached by others, you would scrunch your nose up the slightest bit, but give a placating smile as you directed him to another girl that had no qualms taking care of him for the night. It was the way that you looked up across the room at him with eyes that screamed for praise that turned him on so much he had you on your knees while he fucked into your mouth. “Such a good fucking girl – take my cock in your throat juuust like that baby – f-fuck, so fucking good for me and only me.”

The way you hollowed out your cheeks and looked up at him like he was your whole fucking world and that just spurred him on to thrust even rougher into your warm cavern. “Gonna let everyone know you’re my pretty lil’slut, so fucking perfect fer me – mm almost there baby, take it, take all of daddy’s cum like a good girl.” He couldn’t stop the words from spilling out of his mouth as he gripped your hair and shot ribbons of thick cum into your mouth, his hips stuttering as you continued milking him despite his sensitivity.

He’d never cum so fast in his life. A part of him wanted to be embarrassed until he saw the look of triumph plain as day on your face as you opened your mouth wide and stuck out your tongue. You were proudly presenting the fact that you’d swallowed all of his load. A defeated groan escaped his lips as he yanked you up into his embrace, his hands gentle as they traversed the swells of your body as he came down from his mind numbing orgasm. “So. Fucking. Perfect.” He mumbled into your shoulder and he left soft kisses, while his hands started to travel lower to slide his fingers into your folds, to pleasure you the same way you’d pleasured him.

So imagine his surprise when you stopped him. Koko’s eyes were quizzical, and your giggle didn’t abade any of his confusion. He watched curiously as you slid a finger down his chest and leaned against him. “Today is just for you,” It amazed him how your very same lips that devoured his cock not even five minutes ago were puckered so cutely into a pout as you refused his advances. He couldn’t help the dumb ‘huh’ that escaped his lips, and your eyes rolled skyward as if he was the one that wasn’t making any sense. “I,” You started, pointing to yourself. “Just wanted to suck your cock.”

He couldn’t help himself. “Why?”

This time, you looked at him as if he was stupid, and for once Koko felt like he had asked a stupid question. It didn’t even bother him when you walked out of the bathroom, apparently not deeming his question worthy of a response. Not that he could blame you. You weren’t the type of woman that had to confess your feelings. Any man with a pulse would be able to feel it from the way you walked, talked and responded to them. A sigh escaped your lips as you ran your hand through your hair, frustrated despite such great events earlier before. He just couldn’t get over the feeling that he’d fucked up somewhere.

Despite that small hiccup, the next time you saw him you acted as if that conversation had never happened, much to his relief. In fact you upped your game up even more. You always listened to the things he said, no matter how offhanded they were. Your attire had changed into a majority of the types of things he loved seeing you wear – you must’ve taken really good notes on his preferences. The perfumes you used were the ones he complimented. You only wore the jewelry he gifted you despite receiving so many from other wealthy suitors. How could he not want to spoil someone like you? You were such a good girl for him and he didn’t even have to ask once much less twice.

Large, pretty rings adorned your fingers with bracelets and anklets accentuating your features even more. He’s gotten you earrings, a car, anything he could to keep a smile on your face. Your clothing was always designer, your sunglasses the same. It was evident that being favored by Hajime Kokonoi was a life changing experience. You never had to ask for a thing, your family was taken care of and you were able to wake up at ease. It just made her even more infatuated with him. Of her own violation she bought a necklace, a cheap little thing, with the name Hajime splayed proudly in golden letters. The imagine itself of you sitting cutely on his lap with his name above your pretty tits like a brand made him harder than fucking granite.

In fact, that night confirmed that Koko liked you so much because he didn’t have to ask you to be his, he didn’t have to ask you to act a certain way to appease him or his lifestyle. You’re 100% his girl all of your own violation with no title even needed and that in itself was so fucking sexy he just couldn’t give you up.

He’d planned for tonight to be like any other night that he graced the club with his presence, but the minute you found yourself in his arms he felt off kilter. Maybe it was the way the strobe lights bounced off your skin, making you glow. Maybe it was because he’d stopped fucking other women not too long ago; he figured after he’d moaned your name the last time he was up to the hilt inside of another woman’s cunt that perhaps it was no longer a good idea and that just maybe he should focus on his relationship with you.

Relationship…

Was that what he wanted with you? Since Akane, Kokonoi had never found the time to explore his feelings with other women and he certainly didn’t hold the same feelings for you the way he did for her. Hajime Kokonoi wanted to own you inside and out. He wanted his name to be the only one that fell out of that pretty little mouth of yours. He wanted you to stay by his side like his prettiest possession, his most valuable prize for being a money-making mastermind for over a decade.

It was nights like these that confirmed it; there was no way he’d trade places with any other man. Not when you were grinding against him so fucking good, his hand gently caressing your thinly covered pussy, his grin was absolutely diabolical as he watched you please yourself by grinding against him just that much harder. Playing into his devilish mood, he let his fingers slip past your panties and explore your delicious pussy. It felt so good to the touch.You didn’t stop your grinding motions despite your heavier breathing, but you didn’t expect for him to curl his finger the slightest bit, entering your pussy as if he had exclusive rights to the mound between your legs. You wasted no time riding his fingers, your hands idly caressing your body until you were teasing your own nipples.

“Fuck,” Koko breathed out as he removed his soaking fingers and retuned to siding them through your folds. A slight flick of his middle finger when he was right under your clit was enough to make your legs give out and you straddled him; your arms wrapped around his neck while frotted against his encased erection, whimpering as you placed feather like kisses along his collarbone and up his neck until you reached his ear. “Why won’t you make me yours already?” Your usual willowy tone had been reduced to nothing but a pitiful whine.

He couldn’t help his breathless chuckle and ignored your fists the beat against his chest indignantly in turn for reaching into his pocket and using his free hand to set a bit of space between you, opting to keep you on his lap – even going as far to buck your hips and grin slyly as the way you gasped in pleasure before glaring his way. That glare quickly dissipated, though, when Koko revealed just what he had to present to her.

It was a necklace, but this one was a bit different from the one you’d bought for yourself. It was still long enough to teasingly sit on top of your breasts, but the chain itself was thicker, with diamonds encrusting it. Hajime Kokonoi was written on this necklace, and it was completely covered in different colored yet smartly placed diamonds. “I don’t care if you work here,” Koko began, confident in you and your loyalty. “But you can’t take this off if you do.” His grin was teasing as he held up the necklace. You tried to reach for it, but he teasingly pulled it back before assessing you for a minute. “This is heavy,” he wasn’t referring to the necklace. “Do you think you can handle it?”

Your smile was the only thing he needed for confirmation. He slipped the necklace around your neck and kissed you deeply. “You’re stuck now, Doll. Now go get fuckin’ changed so I can take you home..” The quick smack on your ass cheek was all the encouragement you needed to comply with your new man’s wishes.

#hajime kokonoi #koko x reader #hajime kokonoi x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #tokrev #kokonoi hajime

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crushofdoves · 1 year

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ten lines, ten people

so many of y’all tagged me - @motswolo is the most recent so u get the tag lol. I don’t have 10 posted fics or WIPs so you’re getting a mix of both. and they’re not all first lines xx

After, it's dead silent in the room for a beat - and then Sirius is heaving huge, wracking breaths and saying, "What the fuck, oh my god," under his breath over and over again and Remus is still just staring like it's all caught up to him. His mouth has dropped open into a soft bow of shock and he looks down at his hand like he can’t believe it’s attached to him. - i’ve got diamonds in my eyes (for you)

Sirus had never been a particularly self-conscious person, not even when he started wearing skirts and dark eye makeup. He had simply shown up to class one day in a short, black velvet dress and all but snarled at anyone who looked at him. At almost anyone who looked at him. Remus had pressed a hand on the small of Sirius’s back, smiled and said, “Velvet really suits you. - dirty valentine (written for greenie <3)

The knife is gone for a moment, the fingers pulled out to the tip. And then Sirius feels the blade against the small of his back, lined up straight with his spine. Everything is still. Sirius knows that Remus isn’t hesitating, he’s just making Sirius wait, keeping him on his toes. (cw: blood, knives) - overflow

His eyes are silver and unassuming as moonlight, the kind of glow that pulls secrets from your throat. Silver-scaled trout on a tense, strong line.

This too-big feeling, Remus knows, is a promise that the other boot will drop. Waiting for the pendulum to swing, suspended - the comfort of the inevitable. This is a game that Remus is very, very good at. - the dislocated room

If this is what it is to let someone in, Sirius wonders, then he has no idea how people manage it on a day-to-day basis. It’s completely devouring, it’s eating Sirius up from the inside out and no, he doesn’t want it to stop. - boot theory

“You are absolutely killing it today, I bet Remus is shaking in his little sneakers at the sight of you,” James said, soothing, clearly holding back a laugh.

“Please just go to the till, James,” Sirius said, more embarrassed than he’d ever been, “And let me sweep up the scraps of my ego in peace. - untitled lil bookstore au

Maybe it would’ve been different if Sirius hadn’t grown up picturing himself inside the fairy tales he read in secret - if he hadn’t expected kindness from a world that didn’t understand him. Maybe then the inevitability of it all wouldn’t feel so much like one big cosmic joke, Sirius sparkling right in the center of it. - crush / i had a dream about you

Remus Lupin knew all about the city boys. He knew how they would kiss, how they would press against him in the dark and leave nothing in the morning but the mud from their still-shiny boots on his hardwood floors. -untitled cowboy thoughts that might make it into a fic w/@greenvlvetcouch

“James I do not need you to be responsible right now, I need you to tell me that I’m normal and I can do this,” Sirius says, trying not to sound as small as he feels.

James turns around from the fridge with a bag of bagels in one hand and a jug of orange juice in the other and smiles at Sirius in the soft sad way that someone would typically direct at a distressed child. - you wouldn’t like me - wolfstar in 2005

#i think all of my mutuals have already been tagged #this still isn’t 10 fics but whatever #muah love y'all #wolfstar #wolfstar fic #sirius black #remus lupin

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dxncingwithastrxnger · 6 months

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baby, we're just reckless kids - Part 1 (Inotan)

A/N: Hello!! So sorry that this is so late, I didn't mean for it to be!! I've been pretty busy these past couple of days, plus, in my free time, I was very much distracted binge-reading this tarzan-inspired Inotan fic on ao3 that's soooooo good, I'm almost done with it. It's called Wildflowers, I highly recommend it. If you can't find it and would like the link, just lemme know!! Anyways, here's the story for day 4!! I'm hoping to get at least day 5 also posted today since today is day 6 and then I'll only be a day behind, not two, lmao. Day 5 is actually gonna be a continuation/part 2 to this, though it is gonna mostly be smut, so watch out for that if you'd like to read it!!

Pairing(s): Inosuke x Tanjiro, Zenitsu x Nezuko (mentioned)

Prompt: Day 4: Domestic

Summary: Tanjiro and Inosuke enjoy a sweet, soft morning together in their brand new home before taking themselves to the pet store and picking up some new family members.

Tag(s): Aged up characters, fluff, a slight bit of spice at the beginning, but it's not really much at all, just a lil makeout session that doesn't last very long

Word Count: 1,990

Song Inspiration: Lights Down Low By MAX

Not beta'd, all mistakes are my own.

~*~

[Author Masterlist]

[Read on AO3]

~*~

It’s officially been about a week since Tanjiro and Inosuke moved in together, three months since they started dating and about four months since they first met. Today, the two of them are hoping to adopt a pet together, something the two of them had been talking about for a few weeks now, ever since they’d officially found a house.

Zenitsu claims they’re moving too fast, no matter how many times Tanjiro explains to him that different couples go at different paces depending on their own boundaries and how they work as people in general, both together and separately. While Nezuko and Zenitsu have been dating for five years now and only reached the “I love you” stage around a year ago, here Tanjiro and Inosuke are, sharing the same space and home and already expressing their feelings of love on a daily basis and not even half a year has passed yet.

And Tanjiro is aware that it’s quite soon compared to how people usually do things, but he also knows that it feels exactly right for the two of them. I mean, it just suits how the two of them are as people. Inosuke is someone who charges in without hesitation, goes after what he wants right away, and doesn’t let anyone else dictate his actions. On the other hand, Tanjiro is the most patient person in the world when need be, but knows how to be extremely selfish with what he wants when he knows it’s okay to do so and he spends most of his time just going with the flow, taking whatever the universe throws at him and then whatever Inosuke throws at him as well.

The two of them compliment each other perfectly, Tanjiro believes. They can read each other so well and when they’re in the same space, more often than not, they end up perfectly in sync. He’s never met another person that suits him so well. That can know what he wants before he asks, know what he needs before he even knows himself, can pick up on each of his emotions and knows exactly how he expresses them, knows how to respond to them without him having to explain a single thing to the other man. It’s incredibly freeing. That’s how Inosuke makes him feel. Free.

And now he’s waking up beside the man, bright red eyes opening and immediately finding bright green ones already staring at him. “Morning.” Inosuke says quietly, his voice gruffer than usual due to sleep.

Tanjiro leans forward to press his forward against the other man’s. “Morning.” He says just as quietly, closing his eyes and smiling as he basks in the warmth surrounding him from the sunlight peeking through the crack in the curtains, the large comforter covering his body, and his boyfriend’s strong arms holding him close.

“Someone slept well last night.” Inosuke says teasingly, leaning forward to close the small inch of space left between their faces and nuzzling his nose against the redhead’s cheek.

“It’s impossible not to with you here.” Tanjiro says softly, returning the action.

Inosuke makes a small, happy noise and brings one of his hands up from the other man’s waist to place it on his cheek instead and then he’s moving his lips to the side in order to brush them against Tanjiro’s. The red-haired man sighs happily, melting further into the mattress beneath him as he presses himself closer to Inosuke and returns the almost kiss.

They do that a few more times, brushing lips and tangling their bodies together even more than before, trying to be as close as possible. Tanjiro has one hand on the side of Inosuke’s face, fingertips touching his black-blue hair, while his other hand is placed on the man’s muscular shoulder. Inosuke’s hand on his cheek had moved down in order to rest against the side of his neck instead, his thumb brushing back and forth against Tanjiro’s jaw, and his other hand is holding his side, the arm attached to it wrapped around his waist tightly.

Finally, their lips connect fully, no more simple brushes. But even then, every single action is soft, sweet, and slow, like they have all the time in the world to just lay here in each other’s arms and show their affections. Their lips move in sync, just like they always do, and when Inosuke tentatively runs his tongue along the seam of Tanjiro’s lips, he’s more than happy to welcome the dark-haired man in.

His boyfriend lets out a sigh that turns into a soft, subtle moan and Tanjiro can’t help but return the noise as their tongues roll together lazily. He starts a slow, languid exploration of the other’s mouth and receives the same in return, the two of them just enjoying the taste of the other and the feel of their bodies pressed together. Eventually, hands started moving, tender, affectionate touches being exchanged, and when both of their bodies started to fill with heat and hands started to wander past what’s acceptable for simple affection, they pulled away, eyes opening and observing each other.

Inosuke’s face is flushed deep pink, as he’s sure his own is, and his pupils are dilated, what’s still visible of the green seeming deeper somehow. The man’s lips are dark, swollen, and very obviously chewed on, a bit of saliva on them. Tanjiro is certain he doesn’t look much different. Usually in a moment like this, the pause between them would be a “we aren’t ready to go farther than this” kind of pause, but he felt that it was different this time. This time, it felt more like a “we’ll continue this at a later time” kind of pause, which is confirmed by the look in Inosuke’s eyes, a desire and need that Tanjiro feels low in his gut. Yes. Not right now, but later. They silently communicated such a promise before untangling from each other in order to gain some breathing room.

“We should make some breakfast.” Inosuke speaks up, stretching his entire body before sitting up. Tanjiro follows his lead, agreeing with his suggestion

~*~

When discussing what animal they wanted to get as a pet, they decided on cats. Cats, as long as there’s more than one of them, are usually pretty low maintenance, meaning that when both of them are at work for the day, there’s not much to worry about as long as the animals have all of their necessities available to them. Plus, they both just really enjoy cats. Inosuke is always talking about how fascinating they are and Tanjiro can’t help but agree.

Walking into the pet store, Tanjiro can’t help but smile, taking Inosuke’s hand in his and entwining their fingers together. They’d already called ahead and informed one of the store employees that they were on their way and what they were wanting to do, which is meet their kittens, so all they had to do was go up to the counter and let them know that they’re the ones who had just called.

One of the people behind the counter smiles kindly and leads them to a back room where about a dozen different kittens are playing together. “You can sit and play with them for a little bit, see which one you like the most.” He tells them.

“Thank you.” Tanjiro nods to him as the man stays by the door before walking over to sit near Inosuke in the center of the room. Upon first glance, just by look alone, he immediately has his eye on a kitten with long, reddish-orange fur who’s currently attempting to climb the wall. He then chuckles to himself as he watches a brown, striped kitten walk up and paw at the other one, as if they’re trying to get the one climbing to get down.

“Babe.” Inosuke speaks up after a few minutes. “I’ve been claimed.” He says as the redhead turns to look at him. Tanjiro bursts into giggles. Sitting on Inosuke’s head is a gray kitten with crystal blue eyes, sitting straight with their little nose pointed upwards as if they’re proud of their current sitting spot. It’s easy to tell that Inosuke is being very careful not to disturb the kitten, keeping his head completely balanced.

“You’ve been claimed?” Tanjiro questions, an eyebrow raised and his voice filled with an amused tone.

“He came right up to me and headbutted my leg, so then I knocked him over onto his side. Then he ran around behind me and pounced on my back, climbed up to my shoulder, and headbutted the side of my head. So then I put him back on the ground and knocked him over again. Then he did the same exact thing except he just kept climbing until he was on my head, and now he’s just there.” Inosuke explains to him.

“So, you’ve been claimed.” Tanjiro states rather than asks.

“I’ve been claimed.” The dark-haired man repeats, closing his eyes and looking rather pleased with himself.

He grins at his boyfriend before pointing across the room at the kittens he’s been watching. “And what do you think of those two?” He asks.

Inosuke opens his eyes and follows the direction of his finger, spotting the two kittens right as the reddish-brown one tackles the striped, brown one, the two of them rolling around. Inosuke chuckles a little as he watches the wrestling match. “You thinkin’ both of ‘em?” He asks, raising an eyebrow slightly.

Tanjiro shrugs. “I mean, maybe. Unless that’s too many?” He asks hesitantly, looking back at him.

Inosuke’s face softens and he shakes his head just slightly, smiling. “Not at all. Let’s get all three.” He says. Tanjiro lights up immediately, eyes sparkling with excitement as Inosuke waves to the worker still at the door to the room.

He walks over and smiles, eyes flicking to the kitten still on Inosuke’s head for a moment before looking back at their faces. “Have you guys decided who you’ll be taking home today?” He asks.

“Yes!” Tanjiro confirms as Inosuke grins.

“Definitely taking this lil’ one.” Inosuke says, reaching up and pulling the kitten off his head in order to hold the animal instead, even while the kitten struggles and tries to get out of his arms, to which Inosuke just coos and nuzzles his face against the soft gray fur.

“And then those two, the striped and the reddish-orange.” Tanjiro says, pointing the two of them out.

“Wonderful!” The man says. “Those three usually get along great, so that’s something you won’t need to worry about.” He informs them, walking over to pick up the other two, separating their wrestling match. “This red-orange guy and the little gray you have over there are boys and this striped one is a girl. All three of them are about eight weeks old.”

Tanjiro stands as the man is talking to them, Inosuke following suit. “That’s great.”

Nodding, the man holds both of the other kittens out to Tanjiro. “Would you like to hold them while I go get a carrier for you to take these little ones home in?” He asks, to which Tanjiro nods eagerly and takes both of them from him, holding them close. The man then walks past them and out of the room.

Inosuke steps right in front of Tanjiro, holding the gray kitten right between the other two. The gray kitten calms down instantly once he notices the presence of the others and Inosuke and Tanjiro laugh softly as both of the kittens Tanjiro is holding start to groom the one Inosuke is holding, proving the employee’s words about the three getting along. Tanjiro then looks up to find Inosuke already staring at him, his bright, green eyes sparkling with joy. As soon as they lock eyes, Inosuke leans in to press a gentle, loving kiss against his lips and Tanjiro returns the affection happily.

~*~

A/N: Please lemme know what you think!!! The second part is gonna be a continuation of this taking place on the same day, in which Inosuke and Tanjiro have that later time that they agreed upon in the beginning of the fic ;) I hope you enjoyed this!! I'm starting to pick up a habit of ending fics/fic chapters with kisses, whoops

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hilarychuff · 3 months

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for the fic writers questions: 3, 4 (fic choice up to you), 7, 12, 13, 41 & 42 :)

ty for sending so many!!!

3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics?

ummm they're very demisexual a lot of the time 🥲 nobody kisses until they're in LOVE love usually lmao. or at the very least a strong basis of "i love you as a person" before it gets to "i'm in love with you"

4. What detail in [insert fic] are you really proud of?

i think there are a lot of really fun easter eggs in howl!!!!!! there are lots of horror references in scream but given the sansa pov i sprinkled in a lot of romcom references in the first howl. in scream 2, the initial victims have names related to the victims from the first scream, so in howl 2, i kept that true to the ~message~ of the killer but pulled scream character names for the other bits of it. so like in scream 2, the initial victims are maureen evans and phil stevens — ghostface's nods to maureen prescott and steven orth. in howl 2, my initial victims needed to be references to catelyn tully and ned stark, so i named them tully prescott and eddard becker (like casey). also the moment when tyrion is talking about going on a talk show i changed it from diane sawyer to gayle king so it could be a lil wink to gale weathers. :)

7. Any worldbuilding you’re particularly proud of?

lmao the worldbuilding in all the right reasons (all the right places) is probably unnecessarily complicated for what the fic needed to be!!! obviously i did not create the bachelor world BUT i did get very into like. ok. steve is the bachelor. how did he BECOME the bachelor. how do i adapt his canon storyline. if he's besties with robin it's presumably after a fall from grace. and i pulled a lot of bachelor storylines to build that out like.

it's very much a combination of nick viall going on the show a bunch of times/being kind of a dickish runner up plus becca kufrin last minute swap sympathy arc plus nick viall paradise redemption to bachelor journey but i think if you look at it it really mirrors his canon storyline!!! also all the names of girlies mentioned of seasons past/present are names pulled from stranger things canon so that's fun too

but yeah i mean given that it's basically all back story before the fic even starts (also that it is secondary to the main chrissy/robin romance) it was really more just for fun and to make the world make sense to me of how we got here so!! i think it's interesting

the background targaryen/martell politics for the royal records (jonsa princess diaries au) was also fun and took me a bit to stump through before i was like ah ok i know why dany would now be seeking jon as an heir

12. Are there any tropes you used to dislike but have grown on you?

hmmmm. the only thing that really comes to mind here is like... omegaverse lol. it's still not really my thing (the animal aspect of it doesn't really have any appeal and scent glands in particular is a squick that i also simply do not understand like what are they supposed to be!!!) but i can fuck with the elements of it that's like. soulmate adjacent. biological irrepressible need to fuck RIGHT NOW!!! also this person smells great to me and everyone else is blech. lmao.

13. Are there any tropes you used to like but don’t anymore?

much as i love an au i'm not really into crossovers at all which i used to be much more willing to entertain. i'm a very like "this must make sense" type of reader/writer and it's a lot of logical leaps for me usually. i also used to be a lot more willing to entertain incest ship stuff (which was sometimes a necessity for jonsa) but i much prefer when that is not an element at play (so like a modern au where they're not related at all, or a canon interpretation where they know they're not siblings by the point they come to care about each other romantically).

41. Link a fic that made you think, “Wow, I want to write like that.”

i think i don't have the energy to really attempt this but i looooooooved chrissy and eddie's infinite mixtape from @little-scribblers-heart and especially loved how rosie included references for each chapter in the notes at the bottom. i thought it was a really cool way to incorporate either knowledge about the era or all the research put into it!!! the writing of the fic is amazing in general but i was always super impressed by the work that went into that aspect of it, too.

42. Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason?

not to put her on blast but @beholdthemem will occasionally spoil me with gorgeous in-depth psychoanalysis about my characters and that always makes me go 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 whenever she has thoughts about something i've written i always know i am going to be given a very special gift!!!!!!! these days we're usually chatting over discord rather than leaving comments exactly (btw if anyone wants to be discord friends always feel free to hmu in tumblr messages) but it still counts!!

that said every comment means a lot to me 😭 especially if it is about how a fic made you feel or a lil bit you really loved or a lil bit of commentary on piece of it. truly i am fueled by comments!! motivated by comments!! and i try not to beg for them but i do need them to keep going!!!!!! so anytime someone takes time to leave a thoughtful comment know that i am thinking about it and going back to read it a couple of times!!

#ask game

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idle-starship · 1 year

Text

A Serious Update

TW // Vent; mentions of suicide, death, and violence against trans people; overall a bummer to read.

I'm aware this is not my usual style of posting, at least on Tumblr, but I just want to give an update on where I am now regarding my life and how that could affect my stories and this blog. I apologize if this post gets a tad bit vent-y. I also apologize for not posting regularly as of late. In fact, I may not be able to keep up with once a day posts and updates about my stories, at least not right now.

I'm sure many of you are aware of the current situation in America; many anti-transgender bills are being passed, and our community is facing the threat of genocide. I don't use this term lightly. We are currently in stage 7 out of 10.

As you can imagine this has affected my mental (and possibly my physical) health severely. I can tell I've slipped into a crisis mode mindset. Or maybe it's called survival mode? I'm not sure, but it doesn't matter. I'm scared for my life.

It's my dream to share my stories and characters with the world, and my biggest fear is that my life will be cut short before I can do that. I've cried my eyes out at the thought that these characters will die with me. I know that it's silly and kinda depressing to value my life around my creations, but if it weren't for these characters I don't think I would still be here. Honestly. These silly little characters have gotten me through so much, and I've come to love them as if they were my close friends.

The fact that my dream could be shot down just because I'm trans is... It's something that I've grappled with before, but never like this. It's soul-crushing.

I guess the point that I'm trying to make is that we're in the middle of a fucking crisis. I don't have the time or energy to keep up with this blog on a regular basis, and I'm dropping the whole "one story a week" system I had, at least for now. I will be posting when I can and when I feel like it.

But I do still want to post here. Like I said, I want to share my stories before I die. And if that means info-dumping on Tumblr before I get hate-crimed or die by suicide (which I have no intention of doing), then... well, it's not what I hoped for, but it's better than nothing.

The future looks bleak, but I want to keep creating for as long as I can. All I want to do is make people smile.

Anyway, I should probably end on a happy note. I've got a new hyperfixation on Trigun Stampede, so that's pretty fun! Most of my creative energy the past week or so has actually gone into a Vash x Reader fanfiction, which I will be posting the first chapter of tonight on AO3! This franchise has been a great way to keep my mind off things, and I'm very grateful to have something to turn to for a quick lil dose of serotonin. Also, my Birthday is in a couple days! I'll be turning 19! I'm also planning on making an animatic featuring me and my main OC Dash for the occasion, although I doubt I'll be able to finish it in time for my birthday, but that's ok!

Alright, I'm gonna go publish that fic now. Take care everyone, love y'all 🫶

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whileyoursleeping · 3 years

Note

Hi! *shoves her way into your previous ask box about Twitter trolls without being invited*.

I find it tragically ironic that we're finding out mean Twitter people are being rude about Kitty!Buck at the same time you update that marvelous work of fiction with a chapter in which Buck tells Eddie Twitter is toxic. Given your reply to that ask, and how on the nose you are about literally everything else of import, I can only assume people like this in general are why you brought it up. Imagine these people calling themselves out like that. Like... if you're going to complain about an extremely well written piece of fiction on the basis of being different, what else are you out there being an unsolicited tool about?

Anyway - regardless of how totally wrong they are, it sucks to know it's even happening. That doesn't feel good. So, as another random internet stranger, I'm here to tell you that I've been surfing fanfiction for various fandoms for nearly 15 years and you are easily among the Top 5 Writers I have ever encountered. I have reread many of your works multiple times (including Kitty!Buck). The quality of your writing and the creativity of your mind and how you express it encourages me to get out of my own fiction comfort zone and read different things, and your work has ALWAYS rewarded me for doing that. You entertain me and your fiction is both comfort food and food for thought, and I cannot express enough how impressive that is.

It absolutely breaks my heart hearing about excellent authors being dragged by anyone, let alone individuals who likely don't have even an ounce of the talent you have in your pinky toe. Thank you for sharing your art with this fandom ❤

(I also REALLY hope you still have all your toes, otherwise I feel like an asshole so, sorry about that).

firstly, i recognise your username! welcome to the discourse, friend! <3

look, my first week on fandom twitter i watched a bunch of 20 year olds gang up on a 15 year old and tell her to kill herself. so. poor introduction in general. i saw doxxing. i saw (and continue to see) CONSTANT harassment of the cast of 9-1-1. i do not know how oliver put up with it so long. yes, i do tend to incorporate things into my fics that bother me IRL - namely, how truly horrible people can be to each other under the face of anonymity and with a little fake internet power. and we aren't even talking bagging fics here, we're talking a larger scope of parasocial relationships and faux-power. at the end of the day (and i just made a post about this) they have the right to discuss work once it's published and out in the open. they have the right to not like it - and they didn't come here or to my fic to spew hate about it. so, like, kudos on that front?

and thank you so much for your kind words - i actually might've teared up a lil but i'm having a total shitshow of a week lol. i want people to get something from my work. to me, my favourite works of fiction are like coming home and finding catharsis, and that's what i'm ultimately trying to achieve in my writing. contemporary fiction is often overlooked or even described as "predicting the future" when a lot of the time, no matter what the medium is, it's a reflection of what's going on in the world. kitty buck is (ridiculous concept and excuse for shameless fluff aside) my interpretation of what i've seen the last two years - mindless and truly unmitigated hatred towards all groups that aren't white and cisgender, but at the same time, finding those few members of your A-team who always have your back. (someone should stop me because i WILL prattle about fiction writing as a historical benchmark forever if left unchecked)

they can go ahead and drag me. it's not going to stop me from writing. might give me fuel for thought, but it will absolutely not stop me from writing.

i do have all my toes. and fingers, for that matter. i did have to check because its 12:53am and i am TIRED lol

#shut up nibbles

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cross-d-a · 3 years

Note

Pass the happy!💖 When you get this, reply with 5 things that make you happy and send this to the last 10 people in your notifications!

(I have decided that Discord notifs count because I love you dearly and wanna hear what makes you happy)

HELLO!!!! I love you and I kinda really needed this and I think you know that so thank you!!!!! I love and appreciate you SO MUCH!!

Also I've literally been thinking about this post for two hours and so I'm not gonna stick to just five- I'm gonna list MORE than that because I wanna remind myself that there are many wonderful things in the world to be happy about and also PICS!! I'm adding PICS bc I CAN!!!!!!!!!

under the cut bc it gets LONG! :)

1) YOU make me happy, Sierra!!!!!!! Also @s1utspeare and @vishcount and of course my bff @haru-tl !!! You guys are so fucking incredible and talented and AMAZING!!!! I love you all SO MUCH!!! You always make my day!!! And all the dmbj peeps!!! I am so lucky to know so many wonderful people!!!!

2) as long as we're on the subject of people- I absolutely can't leave out my coworkers!!! Literally some of the best people I've ever met in my life. I have so much fun with them. I can always count on them making me laugh.

Like today, we were talking about this reptile house a few towns away and my manager was telling us about their cool anaconda exhibit where you can crawl under the glass tank and watch them eat and she mentioned their teeth being scary. So I googled Anaconda Teeth and went WOAH THEY'RE COOL and our Resident Snake Expert came over and went actually that pic is from the movie Anaconda. And then he helped me find Real Pics and the teeth were even COOLER. I left the Google search up on the work computer and a couple hours when I was on lunch I heard Mike exclaim: "I had NO idea that ANACONDAS had TEETH!!!!!!" Which?? MIKE?? WHAT??? Hahaha everyone burst into laughter :)

3) my cat BOOTS makes me happy!! He's always asking for belly scritches and he drools when he's happy. Here's a pic bc I adore him:

4) my new baby boy So Mun from The Uncanny Counter makes me VERY happy!!!!! He's just- the Sweetest Boy to have ever Baby'd!!! I adore his little crinkly-eyed smile and curly hair!!! He's just so GOOD it makes me cry!! Also!! Disabled rep!!!!! LOVE HIM!!!!! Look at his lil' FACE:

and bc he is Unfortunately Very Hot in his mourning outfit:

adding this too bc LOOK AT THAT ADORABLE SMILE I wanna SCREAM

5) my Pangzi necklace makes me happy!!! I have an Iron Triangle matching set, but the Pangzi one I first put on bc of Brigid's Pangzi chapter for Swiftly Tilting and then I kinda just- never took it off haha. It's just so pretty and makes me feel like I've got a bit of Pangzi with me at all times. I love that man SO much and if I can be even a fraction of how wonderful he is, then I can die happy

6) the smell of the sea makes me happy!!! It makes me feel refreshed and relaxed! I live by Puget Sound and on very lucky days I can smell it at my house! Tonight was a lucky night! I came home and it smelled like the seashore, so I kept my window open as I folded laundry :)

7) my new collection of Kpop CDs makes me happy!! It's entirely bc of Vish's influence and I LOVE her for it!!! The packaging is just so pretty and I always love being able to hold things that give me Good Feelings in my hands :)

8) since we're on the subject of COLLECTIONS, I love to collect things!! And one collection of things that makes me happy are my books!! I have- too many. Working in a bookstore makes it too easy to buy them! But seeing the bright spines on my shelves gives me delight. I particularly really like my queer manga collection!! I've got four whole shelves of it! :) I'd offer a pic but I'm too tired to go upstairs, haha but I love the art and the representation 🌈

9) I ALSO really love all the figures I collect! Seeing characters that I love on a daily basis makes me happy. I usually decorate my bookshelves with them. One set that makes me particularly happy are my Pingxie ones. They look like they're getting married and it delights me:

10) another purchase that is entirely bc of Vish (I ADORE you!!) is my Chimmy blanket!! He's just so adorable and bright and coming home every day to see him waiting on my bed makes me very happy

11) yet another bright yellow thing that makes me happy is my dmbj Xiao Ge coaster!! It's so sparkly and fun AND it's a friendship coaster I share with Sierra!! We've got a matching set, babe!! I love you!! Let's just shake them around and be distracted by the sparkles forever!!

12) coming back to work from my weekend to find a bunch of manga to shelve always makes me very happy!!! Buying/pricing/shelving manga is my favourite thing to do at work! I love seeing familiar and new titles!

And it's interesting to see how prices can change if it goes out of print! Sometimes every single book in a series but ONE is the same price. Like last month we had a series where like/ volume 8 was worth $250 vs the regular $7.99 for the rest of them. And someone BOUGHT IT!! Things like that can happen randomly. It can be bc it was a smaller printing for that particular volume. OR something special happens in it (new character appearance/fan favourite story arc/BOOBS), so more ppl want to keep it which means it's harder to come by (and then sellers raise their prices BC it's difficult to come by). You usually see the collectible value go up for out of print BL or older series like Aria or Lupin III. Not everything that's out of print is collectible, but it's always interesting when it is :)

13) DAY6's The Book of Us: Gravity has graciously given me a big serotonin boost the last couple days!! It's just- I dunno! Uplifting! Catchy! Full of energy! :)

14) similarly, I've been listening to Close Your Eyes by Isaac Hong almost exclusively for like- five days now! It's from The Uncanny Counter and it makes me very happy! It's very emotional and just reminds me of my baby boy So Mun :)

15) sunshine makes me happy!! I'm at that point in the year where I don't want rain anymore, just sun! So it's always nice having my windows open at home with the sun shining through. Or the back doors at work propped open while we go about our day. It's almost impossible to feel sad when you get to bask in the warmth of the sun and smell the nice fresh air

16) finding weird random books at work makes me happy! It's so fun seeing the kinds of things people read! And sometimes you find cool ephemera in the things people sell to us that they don't want back. Like- look at this pic from an older fortune-telling birthday book I found. She is 1000% Drowning Him and I love that for her :)

17) reading manga makes me happy. There are just so many wonderful and ridiculous series out there. There really is nothing "too weird to publish" in the manga world. I was reminded of this the other day when I discovered a series about a girl who timetravels and finds out that her soulmate is a Neanderthal. You can literally find a series about ANYTHING in the manga world and I love that about it. There's no limit to the imagination and there's something for everyone :)

18) when I'm in the mood, writing and drawing make me happy. There's just something about creating that really just- fills the soul :)

19) making playlists makes me happy!! I love having playlists for characters and relationships and fics and even specific fic chapters or moods or going to sleep! (And rec playlists! Like Vish's :) ) It's just- so satisfying having the Perfect Playlist on hand! Plus it's fun actually making them- like figuring out the mood/lyrics and what they fit into :) I listen to music almost constantly, so this is essential! :)

So thank you Sierra!! It was nice to remind myself about a lot of different things that bring joy to my life!! I love and adore you SO MUCH 💖💖💖

#cross talks #ask #ask game #kinda?????????#good stuff

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highsviolets · 4 years

Text

like real people do, chapter one: obi-wan x handmaiden!reader

summary: in which you and obi-wan stumble into each other’s acquaintance through accidents of honor and pleasure

word count: 3k-ish

cw: brief, brief allusion to body dysmorphia in first paragraph after part one (a).

A/N: WOW it’s finally here!!! my handmaiden x obi fic!! my first multi chapter!! anon you are so patient. thank you for bearing with me as i developed this concept and finally got words onto paper. This lil chapter takes place at the beginning of AOTC and sets the scene for all sorts of shenanigans. pls be gentle folkx i am v nervous i hope you love these idiots honorable humans as much as i do.

*if this is your gif pls lmk!*

like real people do, a fic by corellians-only

prologue

Glamor. Satin. Hapan wine and curtseys and a diplomatic accent polishing over your country roots and the knife strapped to your thigh and a propensity to linger in shadows. This is your life, as handmaiden to Senator Padmé Amidala. This is your duty.

Grime. Sweat. Clone armies and custom armour and a commission muddling the balance of peace and deep-rooted affection and unwavering devotion to the Jedi Order. This is Obi-wan’s life, as High General of the Republic. This is his duty.

You meet before the chaos erupts, though, before it spills over the senate security and the temple’s walls and starts incinerating the foundations of life itself.

You meet before the chaos erupts, but your acquaintance is tangled with its aching tendrils. You do not see each other, at first. So many things are in the way. But slowly, gently, acquaintance forms into friend forms into companion forms into lover over cups of tea and night watches and snatched moments of vulnerability in a world that is determined to wrest your soul from your body. Armor and silk and robes are stripped away; duties that once swathed you tightly become more gentle. When you are together it is just you and him, but when you are in the world you are handmaiden and he is general.

But we are getting ahead of ourselves: let us go back to the beginning, when the wholeness was yet separate. Let us go back to the beginning, and meet ourselves anew. Let us go back to the beginning, where everything divines its purpose.

part one (a)

Shimmersilk voile glistens as you turn in the mirror. The tender glow of artificial sun lamps is enraptured by the diaphanous weave, and its metallic threads gleam under such ministrations. It’s a dress that drips with regality. A sense of noblesse oblige seems to ooze from every swish of the cape flowing from your cap sleeves, and you sigh. The act is heavy, and the cape grumbles as your shoulders heave with the motion. Brilliant flickers of gold and silver mock you as you continue to shift from side to side, scrutinizing your body from each angle. Another sigh leaves escapes through your nose, but this one is softer, gentler, more like the gossamer that now encloses you — more like the woman you been trained to be. You will never be as petite or slight as the Senator, but that, you observe, wrangling to adjust one final hairpin into your headpiece, was never quite the point. Your job is to stand in for her ladyship: not to assume her person.

The offending hairpin proves obstinate. You surrender to the cause and submit yourself to an evening of faint wisps of curled hair framing your face. Wisps of hair are too spontaneous. You must be crisp, but it is not about what you want — not in these petty, mundane expressions of living.

While you have been doing battle a figure has entered the room. It’s one of the Senator’s new Jedi protectors, if the robes are any indication. Without fanfare he approaches you and plucks the pin from your fingers, like he is intimately acquainted with such things and communes with them on a daily basis. Gentle fingers — though, the bruised knuckles tell you they are not immune to struggling against life’s grip — smooth the hair at the crown of your head before he slips the pin into its rightful place, nudging into the golden circlet now held secure. The sleeve of his robe caresses your cheek, obscuring your vision, and you feel with your , rather than see, all of this occur.

“All of this” happens without sound, without breathing almost, as though the two of you have entered a vacuum that warps both space and time and sound.

The man takes a step back and paints himself with an apologetic smile, clasping his hands together in the privacy of his robe and offering you a half-bow.

“I apologize for the liberty, your ladyship.” The Jedi’s voice is precise. “I do hope I wasn’t too forward.” He announces every syllable, acknowledges every idiosyncratic whimsy, each grammatical proclamation.

You meet his gaze in the mirror, and despite the shadows casting about, you can detect the openness, the earnestness of his gaze. He holds no tension in his face, or anywhere else in his body, for that matter. It has been a long while since you have seen someone so at peace. Perhaps, hidden under the cloak, his fingers are grasping at themselves, trying to be rid of the vestiges of forbidden touches.

A half-smile graces your painted lips and you incline your head. The movement cuts but a short arc in the air’s currents, just as you have been taught. “It is no matter.” You toy with the idea of letting him continue to believe you are Padmé, the thought careening through your mind like a model airspeeder run amok. You let the thought crash. It is above you to engage in such petty games, you decide. Padmé would not do it, and it is your job to act as she does. Besides, the Jedi would know, wouldn’t he? Can’t they read minds with the Force? That’s what fisherman in your village used to say when you would let your feet dangle off the docks and graze the surface of the water and watch the boats come in with the day’s catch.

So you turn, then, the cape twisting behind you, and address him face-to-face. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Master Jedi.” You gesture to your twinkling gown. “I am not the Senator.” You catch the tail end of his frown as you avert your gaze, fixating on some unseen object just out of sight. “I am but one of her ladyship’s handmaidens.” You hear the clipped tone of your voice, the way every word is measured like cups of flour, like the yards of fabric for this dress, and you think you hate it, but you cannot tell.

“Oh, I am sorry.” The apology is sincere and bookmarked with amusement, and he rocks back on his heels. It seems he is laughing at his own mistake. “I must however, inquire after the whereabouts of her ladyship. The council has requested that my padawan and I escort her to this evening’s function.” The Jedi’s hands drop to his sides and the robes that shield them follow.

“I’m afraid the Senator has already departed,” you say, making for the exit. The Jedi matches your stride. “She left with another Jedi some twenty standard minutes ago. I presume it was your padawan, Master Jedi?”

“Blast!” he murmurs, but you hear his swearing and duck your head to hide your grin. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, throwing a glance your way. “I’m afraid my padawan has a mind of his own.”

“I think the Senator and your padawan will get along famously, then,” you remark wryly. You have reached the landing pad and are about to bid him a good evening when he climbs into the shuttle and extends a hand to guide you.

“May I be of assistance?”

Skin meets skin for the second time that evening. At this rate you will be more acquainted with his body than your own, and as you sense his muscles grow taut when you shift your weight to board, an unfamiliar sensation embeds itself among the metallic threads. It feels like when you have to receive the Chancellor when Padmé is away on business, or when you act as decoy traveling to and from Theed, but more subtle, more inviting.

“Thank you, Master Jedi.” Skin breathes on skin for one, two heartbeats and then the contact withers and he drops your hand.

A silence nestles over the two of you as the pilot races you over to the function. It persists as he helps you exit the shuttle and delicately rearranges your cape, ensuring the shimmersilk is matches the beams of fractured stars.

Obi-wan does not know why he does this; he does not understand why he feels the nudging of the Force to offer his arm like he is a chivalrous courtier, but he obeys. It is his duty to obey the will of the Force, so he does.

part one (b)

The function teems with lifeforms, and each one spars for attention. They are wrapped in chiffon and decked in damask robes and fine crystals compete for light so they can shine that much brighter. It’s some gala ostensibly designed to raise credits for a struggling cause, and it is like all the rest. A pathetic excuse for most Senators to say they are dedicated to more than greed.

To you, it reeks of Coruscanti power; to him, it stinks of politics.

The Jedi Master spots the Senator and her Jedi protector before you do, and he steers you in their directly, swiftly sidestepping curious glances and intoxicated beings. You manage to snag a glass of something from a passing tray.

He bows again, deeply. His hair seems to blend in with the crowd — it is copper and gold and refined.

“My lady,” he intones, and his voice sparkles like the gem-encrusted champagne flute in Padmé’s hand.

“It’s lovely to see you again, Master Kenobi.” She looks up at the gangly teenager by her side. Rich chocolate and licorice colored robes complement the Senator’s wine-colored gown. It’s a striking image, despite the youth’s awkwardness, here in the blurry illumination of the cavernous room.

Padmé breaks into a full smile as she spots you lingering at Kenobi’s side. “I see you’ve met my handmaiden.”

“I suppose I have,” he says, examining you anew, “although I’m afraid introductions got swept away in the excitement.”

You think he sounds as unaffected by “the excitement" as one could possibly be, and the duplicity gnaws on your gentility.

You sip while Padmé sweeps together strands of lore about your service, about your loyalty, about your selflessness. The beverage is sweet and sparkling, rather like your gown, and like your dress, it feels sticky and cloying and altogether fake for something that tries so hard to be real. But you smile and nod and once more his skin melts into yours as he shakes your hand.

“The honor,” he says in that voice colored with melody, “is all mine.” You look into his cerulean eyes and wish, dimly, in that part of your brain untouched by starlight, that he had said pleasure.

Padmé’s eyes flicker between you and him, but the moment has passed. She pulls you away, citing the need for diplomatic business and brushes aside her escorts with a firmness she seems to have possessed since birth.

The pair of you wander through the crowd. You are always one step behind, always letting her be the first person they see. She is wearing her favorite designer tonight, and you wonder, taking another sip as she holds court with Bail Organa, why she has commissioned such a work of art for tonight’s event.

Like yourself, the Senator has opted for airy materials matched with splendor. And yet, her garb lacks your ethereality: the deep burgundy smacks of something firmly rooted in rich soil even as you strain heavenward. Tulle and satin are artfully draped over her lithe form, and beaded crystals cover her from head to toe. An open back reveals creamy skin. More than one being in the hall has dragged their eyes over the Senator’s body, straining to glimpse more, more, more, in the dim light.

The Senator pays them no mind. When she concludes her business with Organa, she refreshes her glass, and yours, and tucks you in her side. You begin to walk. It is an aimless thing, but not purposeful — now is when you see who is here, and who is not, who is watching, who pretends to look away, and who slips out unnoticed.

“How did you meet Master Kenobi?” you ask.

“Oh, it was years ago.” Padmé drinks. “I was still Queen at the time.”

“And?” Back in those days, she had retained at least a dozen of Naboo’s finest young women. Now, it’s just you and few others.

“And that was when we met,” she announces. “He’s very famous, you know. So is his padawan, Anakin Skywalker. They’ve protected at least half the galaxy.”

Confusion contorts your features, carving rivers in your forehead. “I’ve never heard of them.”

Padmé laughs, but the expression is faint, almost undetectable. Senators do not typically jest with their bodyguards. “That’s because you think anyone who reports on the Jedi is a gossip-mongering snob and you refuse to read anything about them.” She squeezes your arm and drops her voice to a whisper. “Don’t know know they’re the ones who write all the good stuff?”

“All…the good stuff,” you echo, voice flat and uncomprehending.

Padmé simply rolls her eyes and resume her stride. “They’re in charge of my security now, with Captain Typho. I expect that you’ll be working closing with Master Kenobi. Please help him fulfill his mandate from the Council in anyway you can.”

The mere suggestion of working with that man twists your insides. It’s the same feeling from earlier, swirling and basing into unease. Work with a Jedi? A famous one? The ache anxiety you are used to. It is familiar and it is your unwelcome companion but you have made peace with each other. This — this is something new. This is a grinding jaw and a drawbridge heart and hot and cold dueling for dominance in your stomach and something so strangely akin to anger. You drink more champagne to mask the disconcerting sensation.

part one (c)

The Senator is being pulled away, now, to a group of prominent Senators to discuss the new child labor protection regulations. She does her job and you do yours, melting into the shadows, embracing them, keeping eyes on all those who gather near to your mistress.

Master Kenobi’s sudden appearance at your side does not surprise you, though perhaps it should.

“Are you quite sure you’re able to keep watch on her ladyship from this distance?” His words are no longer melodic. They come to your ears dry and flinty, the way rocks feel without the rain to abate their constancy.

“Quite.” You fail to elaborate because there is simply nothing more to say.

“Your disguise is quite effective. You must pass along my compliments to Captain Typho and the rest of the security team.” He tries again, but you refuse to be endeared. He is stubborn, just like you — he resists being broken down by your cool acidity.

“Thank you, Master Kenobi.” You finally meet his gaze. “I was worried it would be too intricate, but the Senator assured me I had selected the perfect piece. It’s just enough like her for people to not look twice.”

“You engineered this?” Master Kenobi’s body is static, but his face swells with vivacity. A minuscule gesture to the left, an arching eyebrow, a corner of his mouth quirks upwards, ascending to meet his eyes.

“It’s my job,” you return, but the pH of your tone has neutralized somewhat. You are uncomfortable, so you try to tease him. “Maybe one day I can show you how to use all the weapons I have under this gown, and you will believe I can do my job.”

You regret the tawdry joke immediately when he shifts and looks away. “I’m sorry I’ve offended you, my lady.” Master Kenobi analyzes you, then the Senator, and sighs heavily. “I see you have everything well in hand. I shall bid you good evening, then, my lady.” He bows and exits in a boiling mass of robes, his padawan not far behind. Anakin Skywalker lingers on the threshold, gazing into the crowd, eyes frantic, but his Master beckons and he follows obediently.

part one (d)

It is not until early morning, during that brief moment between night and dawn, that you are able to think clearly about the strange feeling gurgling in your chest.

You think of Master Kenobi and his sentimental hair and the caramel of his accent. You wonder about his hands grazing yours, how your fingers curled so naturally around his, the ghost of fingertips in your hair. You consider his attempts at gallantry, at his fealty to his duty, to Padmé embrace of his presence and her lavish praise.

And you ask yourself what would it have been like, if he were just a boy, and you were just a girl, and maybe if he had danced with you he could have respected you more, and maybe if you had been less defensive he would have been more contrite, and you laugh at yourself.

Silly girl, you think as sleep nibbles at your vision. Those are not our kind of dreams.

tbc.

#obi-wan x reader #obi wan x reader #obi-wan x you #obi wan x you #obi wan imagine #obi-wan imagine #star wars fic #handmaidens #padme amidala #anakin skywalker #fic: like real people do #i am v tired now #honor kink #cris writes

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spohkh · 3 years

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miracle on cornelia street [dean/castiel]

so BASICALLY sarah @adanceinasnowglobe and i were talking about what everyone would be up to post-series -- yknow, like, now that theyre all safe and healthy n everythings cool and destiel is officially together. yknow. as happened in canon -- and we were like so obviously destiel get a house, and thats kind of the basis of this verse so !! this is the foundational fic for what i HOPE will be a series of fun lil day-in-the-life drabbles, from both me and sarah!!

ehehehe :-) enjoy!

read on AO3

The house is a quaint thing, sitting low and snug under a pair of shady oak trees in a quiet suburb just outside of downtown Lawrence. Its brickwork face is weathered—definitely in need of a good power wash—and the roof is just as worn. The bottom step to the porch slants unevenly, and the porch itself has cracks in the concrete. There are chips in the paint on the window frames, the iron porch railing is rusting, and who knows when the gutters were last given a proper cleaning.

There’s a lot of work to be done, but standing there in the small front lawn, Dean Winchester can’t say if he’s ever seen anyplace else so perfect as the house at 3767 Cornelia Street. Dean’s house—his home. His home with Cas.

“Can you believe it?” he quietly says to Miracle, who has been sitting patiently by Dean’s leg. Miracle tilts her head and wags her tail. Dean looks back up at the house. “Yeah, me neither.”

The sound of a familiar car rumbling up the road snaps Dean out of his reverie. He rubs a knuckle at his eye and clears his throat and tries to look like he hadn’t been standing in his front yard about to cry while talking to his dog, christ.

The car rolls to a stop on the curb just in front of the house. The driver’s side door opens, and Sam slowly unfolds his ridiculous limbs as he gets out. It’s always a wonder how he can fit himself into a car at all. Sam gives a dorky little wave as he ambles over to where Dean is standing.

Dean peers behind Sam, trying to see into the car. “What, no Eileen?”

“Hello to you, too. Dick,” he replies snarkily. “She’s wrapping up a work thing. She’ll come over when she’s done.”

Dean sucks his teeth in disappointment. “Ah, well. Guess you can go home then.” Sam shoves at his shoulder. Dean just laughs and pulls Sam in for a proper hello hug.

“Why are you standing out here, anyway?” Sam asks when they part.

“Can’t a man just hang out in his own front yard? Accompanied by a dashing canine companion?” He leans down to pat Miracle on the head.

“I guess…” Sam looks down at Miracle. When she tips her head up and gazes back at him, Sam snorts.

“What?”

“Miracle on Cornelia Street,” Sam says with mirth.

Dean squints at him. “What?” he repeats, now more incredulous.

“You know—like Miracle on 34th Street. But we’re on Cornelia, so.” He nods down at the dog. “Miracle on Cornelia Street.”

“Dude.” Dean rolls his eyes at Sam’s goofy grin and starts walking up the path to the house, Miracle trotting behind him. “Shut up and come inside already.”

Sam follows after him, pausing just inside the threshold as he spots something on the doorframe. “Oh, classy,” he says, throwing a sardonic look to where D.W. and C.W. are scratched into the wood.

“Just wait,” Dean jokes with a toothy smile, “when I got the time I’m gonna draw a little heart around it.” He was joking, but now that he said it, he kind of wanted to.

Cas looks up from the stove when they walk into the dining room. He’s wearing one of Dean’s old AC/DC tees, the logo all but worn away from being washed so many times. He’s usually in some ratty tee or other when lounging around these days. But in honor of Sam’s visit today (Cas’ words) and to seem a little more dressy short of donning his usual button-downs (Dean’s private opinion), he’s also wearing the cable-knit cardigan Sam got him as a gift last Christmas. “Hi, Sam.”

Sam leans against the counter that separates the dining and kitchen areas, craning his giraffe neck to catch a glimpse at the stove. “Hey, Cas! What’cha cooking?”

“Nothing. Dean made it. I was just watching the pot so it didn’t boil over.” He locks eyes with Dean, his intent stare very clearly communicating I did not touch the chili I added nothing I did not touch the dial I was just watching it like you asked so don’t even start.

Dean just smiles as he walks past the counter and steps into Cas’ space. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he says, and busses Cas on the cheek.

“You’re welcome,” Cas replies warmly. He’s gazing up at Dean with those summer afternoon blue eyes, standing in one of Dean’s shirts and that dorky cardigan, and Dean starts to get full of that feeling from out in the front yard again. If they were alone, Dean would probably say something recklessly sappy like I am so stupid in love with you.

As it is, Dean clears his throat and turns back to Sam, slinging an arm around Cas’ shoulders, and says, “He did the salad.”

Cas sneaks him a knowing look before, thankfully, putting his attention on Sam without commenting on Dean’s hasty redirection. “I did the salad,” Cas agrees blithely, and places the salad bowl on the counter for Sam to see, seeming pleased with himself.

Sam looks between the two of them, an amused tilt to his eyebrow that Dean implicitly distrusts. He’s definitely thinking mocking thoughts about the two of them. But he just quirks a smile and says, “It looks great.” Shrewd little diplomat.

Cas shifts to the side to see past Sam’s shoulder. Sam glances behind himself before shooting Cas a confused look.

“She’s still at work,” Dean tells Cas, guessing who he’s looking for. “Sadly.”

“What, am I not good enough?”

“Of course you are,” Cas promises earnestly, just as Dean says, “Well…”

Sam’s opening his mouth to retort, probably something absolutely scathing, when his phone chimes. He pulls it out of his pocket, a smile spreading over his face. “Speak of the devil,” he says, then tips his head with a grimace, “as it were. That was Eileen. She’ll be here soon, so I’m gonna go wash up.”

“Bathroom’s down the hall—“

“Dude, I know where it is. I did help you guys move in.”

Dean spreads his hands in assent. “Fine, christ, I swear never to be a good host to you in my home ever again. Go ahead and go take your dump now.”

“I’m not gonna—ohmygodnevermind.” He turns on his heel and huffs down the hall, Miracle trotting after him, the tags on her collar clinking together jauntily.

Dean reaches past Cas to turn the burner off, then lands his hand on Cas’ hip. “Have I told you today how cute you are in that sweater?”

“Yes.” Cas brings his hands up to cradle Dean’s face. “Four times.”

“Make it five.” Dean kisses him. He pulls Cas into a hug, pressing his face against Castiel’s shoulder. They sway into each other. After a warm moment, Dean says in a low voice, “The first family dinner in our house.”

Cas hums a soft, contented sound in agreement. “The first of many,” he responds, just as quiet. Dean squeezes him tighter. He knows they’re both thinking about Jack and Claire, their bedrooms sitting empty and waiting for whenever they can find the time to visit—and Kaia and Alex and Jody with Claire, if they can, and Charlie and her girlfriend, and Bobby, and all the other wayward extensions of their sprawling family caught out in the wind. Their house isn’t big enough to host everyone, but with Sam and Eileen up the block and the bunker just a few miles out, there’s plenty of room to put up people who come out their way. Dean has the hope that 3767 Cornelia Street becomes a common pitstop for folks—a suburban Roadhouse, a tidier (much tidier) Singer Salvage.

Dean presses a kiss against Cas’ neck, and Cas breathes a sweet little sigh that pushes all thoughts about future dinners right out the window. Fuck, this dinner could go out the window, for all he cares. He kisses a little higher up, right under Cas’ jawline, before pulling back to catch Castiel’s darkened gaze. “How ‘bout we ditch the nag and go have a private party of our own?”

“Dean, no. I worked really hard on that salad.” He sounds perfectly serious, but the playful glint in his eye gives him away. Dean snorts, mumbling oh, forgive me, Chef Cas as he leans in again.

Just as they kiss, Sam walks back in. “Hey, I think something’s wrong with your sink–- oh, sorry.”

“Huh?” Dean reluctantly pulls away as Sam clears his throat, looking sheepish. “What’s wrong with what, Sammy?”

“Uh, with your bathroom.”

“The bathroom? Oh, what, you clogged the toilet?”

“Wha— N— I DID NOT SHIT IN YOUR BATHROOM.”

“Then how did the toilet get messed up?”

“It’s the SINK, the SINK—”

“You took a shit in the sink?”

Cas pinches the bridge of his nose. “Dean…”

“What? He started it.”

“Started WHAT?”

Dean snaps his fingers. “The end of the world.”

“Oh! My god!”

“I guess technically, yeah, since god is our kid...” He turns to Cas. “Weird, weird lives we lead.”

Cas just shakes his head, clearly exasperated. Sam has given up on speaking completely and has fallen back on making a gesture like he’s one second away from grabbing Dean by the throat.

“I was there for all twelve years of it,” Sam says to Cas, “and I still can’t believe you stayed with this guy.”

“Well,” Cas muses serenely, “you’ve been here a lot longer than me.”

Sam grimaces when Dean throws him his best shit-eating grin. Nothing like his two favorite people bonding over how much of a pain he is.

The sound of the front door opening distracts them, and then a voice calls, “Knock knock! The life of the party has arrived!”

“Eileen!” Sam exclaims happily. Miracle takes off down the hall, Sam hot on her heels.

Dean chuckles at Sam’s unabashed excitement, then gives Castiel another peck on the cheek before moving away from him. “Can you put everything out on the table? I’ll go check out the bathroom sitch real quick.”

Cas catches his hand as he starts to leave, softly saying his name. When Dean looks back at him, Cas smiles and says, “I love you.”

Dean wonders if maybe three time’s the charm and he should just give in to what his body wants him to do. If a man has a right to stand around and cry messily anywhere in his own home, surely the kitchen would be the place to do it. The kitchen, after all, is the heart of any house.

But Dean doesn’t. He indulges in a little sniffle, Cas’ eyes glimmering with knowing in the soft light. Dean brings Cas’ hand to his mouth and kisses the neat gold band around his finger, and he kisses each peaked knuckle, and he turns Cas’ hand over and kisses his palm and his wrist. Then he lets go and puts his own hand against Cas’ cheek, and says his recklessly sappy thing: “I love you, too, sweetheart.”

And the glowing feeling inside him doesn’t settle, only grows brighter.

Whatever’s wrong with the sink will be just one more thing to a long list of shit to deal with. Their house needs work, no denying. But Dean knows they’ve got plenty of time.

#destiel #deancastiel #dean winchester #castiel #supernatural #my writing

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retroandreal · 4 years

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Hanging by a Moment (Lucien Rivercrest x MC)

Hey guys, its ya girl with another ficcy fic. So while I was writing this one here, I unconsciously took a massive left-turn and this turned into a “His POV” type of situation. I’m not even mad because I loved when Lovestruck did those little extras for the characters. I was also jumping for joy when they brought them back for Havenfall is for Lovers. Tagging @official-alex-cyprin

AN: Four snippets of Lucien’s POV from when he first met MC to winning the bake off, the most iconic scenes that stuck out in my opinion. Especially that spat with Vallia. (lil biss). This is inspired by the song ‘Hanging by a Moment’ by Lifehouse and this called for major fluff feels. TBH, all my fics have had major fluff feels. Guess it’s time to change my Tumblr banner name…

Sweet Enchantments café; my second lifeline. I’ve basically be annexed from my family after I landed myself in this rehabilitation center. I don’t resent it; I love to bake since it was what my grandmother raised my brother and I with. Now, It seems like my brother doesn’t even know me as well. Once you’re charged with a federal offence, I guess not even your family will back you up. Grandma was really the only one that believed in me. I was meant to inherit the Rivercrest business, but I knew it wasn’t ever going to be for me. Grandma knew that baking was all I had and that’s exactly how it led me to be the pastry chef at Sweet Enchantments. The owner and coordinator, Liora, has been more than welcoming of my desires and use my magic for presentation. Every day done; I would make the daily sweets for the display case but save the dessert acrobatics for the crowds of women that formed my fan-base. They feed my confidence and my ego, I know I’m good at what I do but it’s all on a day-to-day basis, no sustenance or real joy but I know I have to make the most of this second chance.

“Lucien! Pay attention!” Runa snaps at me, she’s the head waitress here at the café. I respect her as a coworker and a friend; we’re all in the same boat here

“Yeah yeah, sorry. I need to prep anyway before we open” I stand up abruptly and the chair that I once occupied screeches across the tiled floor. Another day, another day closer to the end of my sentence and I promise you, grandma, I will make you proud.

The afternoon rush hits; and my pastry counter is the busiest in the café in exception to the main dining floor

“Hello ladies, ready for today’s spectacle?” Met with squealing cries of excitement, I begin my magic-filled performance. ‘Oooohs’ and ‘ahhhs’ overcome my senses as my ego is constantly being fed, this is fine. The temporary bliss of adoration is enough to get me through the day, never more but only just enough. That’s when I see her; lost, wide-eyed, in awe of her surroundings. Like a lost puppy looking for its owner, or maybe in hopes of finding something… or someone. She is probably a first-timer here. I turn my back to fetch one of my enchanted whisks and cast a spell to beat my egg-whites into soft peaks to form the perfect meringue.

I turn back, she’s there

Looking just as starstruck as she did before

Then meets my eyes as I finish the final touches on the tarts just assembled for the crowd in front of me.

The wind subtly shifts around me

“She’s different” I murmur under my breath

“I-I was looking for my scarf and I stumbled across this café! I’m sorry” she stammers, as if she’s in the wrong. I shake my head in disbelief, this girl is so naïve. I hold out the last of the batch of tarts.

“Try one” I offer her

She accepts gratefully and our hands briefly touch, with little jolts of energy travelling between us.

“She’s different”

~~~~~~~

“Lucien! Come join me!” as she pats the bed just beside her energetically. She’s always been one for stories; telling and reading them. Standing still in my place, I debate whether I should join her since, lately, I have been growing some sort of feelings for her. I cannot fathom what these feelings are yet. I wouldn’t say I love her or even have a crush on her, but I’ll say that I do care for her.

“Ok, I’ll take your invitation” I make myself comfortable next to her. God, I can still smell the buttery pastry scent on her from when we were preparing the tart base for tomorrow’s day.

She smells like home, not the home where my parents are.

But the home where grandma raised me.

Surrounded by the same scents.

She smells like home, and I feel the most at ease with her presence here.

The sound of her voice and narration just becomes white noise in my ears as all that I can concentrate on is the engulfing scent radiating off her clothes from today she still has on, refusing to change until we have finished our platonic pillow-talk. She’s constantly pulling me in with how much she eases my incomplete heart with just her being beside me. I have not felt this way in a long time. She’s filling a void within me that hasn’t even been filled by my daily ego boosts but yet she makes me feel like I can conquer the world with just a whisk, oven and a few ingredients.

I’m closer to where I started, I was desperate for changing, but now I’m chasing after you

She swats my shoulder closest to her

“Hey! Get your head out of the clouds! Are you even listening to me?”

I chuckle deeply at her childish whining

“Don’t laugh, Lucien! It’s not funny! How long was I even talking to myself” she complains as she makes a god-awful attempt at an angry, threatening face and burying her face into my pillow

Dammit, is this what I’ve been missing? Comfort? I find myself not missing the presence of grandma as much ever since she’s been appointed my pastry apprentice. She’s made baking for me an enjoyable experience again, not just some monotonous chore just to by myself time throughout my sentence. She’s learnt so much within the past few days, she reminds me from back when I used to learn how to bake with grandma and my brother in the kitchen when I was just a kid. I’ve learnt how to accept and share my love of baking with other people and not just put on a show for my own reputation, to share my love of baking with her.

She forgets all that I’m lacking, how I’m completely incomplete

I’m done living for the tedious days in and days out, I want to make her life as filling as mine has become with her in it. I feel a little bit self-conscious and guilty that her basically being held hostage in Sweet Enchantments is my fault; If I had not shamelessly tried to show off my magic in front of her on that very day I met her, she would probably be home safe and sound. Not stuck here, illegally, glamoured, and awaiting the official response from the government which is, frankly, taking a decade and a half.

I have this need inside me to keep her happiness. Selfish as I am, I hope to wake up to that smile of hers for as many mornings as I can.

~~~~~

Vallia is relentless. Giving her a piece and half of her mind. But she’s not taking it herself.

My headstrong angel. The way Vallia is giving her a threat. Maybe it’s the way she’s looking at her, or maybe how long she’s been tormenting her. She doesn’t back down. Instead, she holds her own against the force of nature which is Vallia. She advances on Vallia, thrusting one of her perfectly delicate fingers towards her.

“I did NOT do anything to you, and I don’t deserve the way you have been treating me”

“Well, it’s not my fault that you are a screw up”

Oh my, Vallia. You couldn’t have said anything else as wrong as that to her. The bickering goes back and forth. I want to defend her. I really do. But I know I have to trust her that she can stand up for herself, because I have full faith in her self-defense as much as her ability to keep up with me; in the café as my apprentice as well as dealing with everything that has been dumped on her… because of me.

My mind is running and not quite sure where to go, so I continue to stand there. Proud of her, and her willingness to stand up for her own rights, self-worth and our relationship that was ungratefully exposed by Vallia herself.

“You’ve pushed and pushed me. I should CRUSH you”

I’m shellshocked by the hardness of her words, usually in the place of words of encouragement and love for me. But now, she’s furious. I try my hardest to hold back a small grin but fail when she catches the corners of my mouth twitching, unable to hold back the proud feeling I have toward this woman at this very moment.

I haven’t stepped in yet. I’m surprised I haven’t, But I trust her with my life. I’m letting go of all that I’ve held on to; my reputation, my image… for her. But I don’t care, I would give up a lifetime of fangirls and temporary loyalty just to make sure she’s the only one standing by my side at the end of the day. If the previous weeks haven’t proven anything to me, at this moment, I know that she is the one that I want; to support me throughout the rest of my sentence and the rest of my life.

I was living for the only thing I ever knew

But now, I want to live to make her happy

Right beside me

And I don’t intend on letting her get away

She’s taken all of me now, and I’m damn lucky to have her

Since that fateful day she literally stumbled into my life, till even now, I don’t know what I’m diving into. My little firecracker, she ignites a new light within my self to continue, to continue to grow. I want to grow and learn alongside her. Life has become so unpredictable with her in it, from the slight points of contact while we work in perfect harmony behind the pastry counter. To the secret rendezvous in the café storage room. While I run my hands through her hair and place soft, peppery kisses into the junctions of her neck where I know will ignite the most delectable of reactions from her. Those little moment where I can be myself with her in my room makes me proud to stand next to her. Hanging onto these little moments that I’ve had with her urge me to keep going. And I’m going to make sure that she is with me, every step of the way.

~~~~~

“And the winner of the bake-off is…”

I’m nervous. The most uneasy I have ever been in my life, but not for my own sake. For her sake. She encouraged me to compete as a new baker and, frankly, I fear to disappoint the love of my life. The past few days on the island have been the most emotionally tiring time in my life, but I know I’ve grown as a person, for the better… for her sake. Everything up until now I have done for her. To reconnect with my brother, bring myself closure from the passing of grandma… Grandma. I know you would have loved her. She brings as much joy in my life as baking did when you were still here. You would have loved her, maybe as much as I do now. She’s urged me to move on, to become a better man. She’s made me a better version of myself that I, if you would have asked me the same question a few months back, I would have laughed in their faces.

But it’s true

“LUCIEN RIVERCREST!!!”

She’s my rock

Cheer from all around me invade my ears and a seawall of loyal and new fans have gathered around me to celebrate my victory over that vindictive pixie.

I’m closer to where I started

I lock eyes with her from an opening in the crowd

I’m chasing after you

I part the crowd and make a hasty beeline towards her. I could spot her from a mile away.

I’m standing here until you make me move

As I get closer, she starts to push through herself in hopes of meeting me halfway. But I get there first, because I’ve been chasing after her since the beginning.

My new beginning.

My new life.

With her.

But right now, as she barrels into my arms, I lift her up into a Hollywood worthy kiss in front of the floating camera orbs.

I’m hanging by a moment here with you

#Voltage #voltage games #voltage usa #voltage inc #voltage otome #sweet enchantments #lucien rivercrest #runa amberthorne #liora skyheart #emeril everbloom #lovestruck smut #lovestruck fluff #roman tarrenglade

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blake-belladonna-defence-force · 5 years

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Thank you

I’m still feeling really sentimental so sorry about this, folks, but I need to talk about this. So feel free to ignore, I’m just being a bit of a sap.

Mental illness has always made itself known in my family. Like the saying goes, it doesn’t run; it fucking gallops.

I was a quiet kid growing up but I got even quieter during high school and even more so as I started to drift away from my social group. Little to my knowledge I was developing, or had already developed, depression and anxiety.

Happiness can be difficult to hold onto, even when you don’t suffer from mental illness. And when you do have at least one? Oof. Even harder. Speaking from experience.

But for the first time in a long time, I’m smiling on a regular basis. I still have depression. I still have anxiety. I will always have bad days. But I’m happier than I have been in a very long time. Who’d thought that writing could make feel me like this? I never knew something could make me feel this happy.

No. It has not healed me through the magic of writing and fandom. Depression is still a bitch. The world is still scary. But I’m having fun and smiling and even giggling more than ever. I’m actually hopeful. And that’s due to this show, especially bumbleby. Yes, even our fandom has its issues and flaws, just like anybody else. But you have all been so welcoming and supportive even though I’ve only just recently had the courage to stop lurking and start posting.

Others can call us as toxic as much as they want. But I can’t really find in me to care. Not when being a part of this community has made me feel so much happier than I have in while. And that’s only after, what, a week?

I don’t know how long this will last. Maybe it’s a once off wave of happiness that’ll fade out. Maybe it’ll be only until the series ends. But that’s okay. We need to find joy where we can. And right now? I’m happy writing and posting and losing my bloody mind over the bees.

Maybe I want to be happy. Maybe it’s time to just let myself just be happy. Even if it’s only for a short while.

So thank you to CRWBY for continuing to create a series that has made such a passionate fandom. For inspiring people. For allowing people to be creative with your characters.

Thank you to the voice actors who put so much life into the voices we know and love. Especially Arryn Zech whose character has helped me see that we all deserve to be happy. Even quiet, anxious introverts like me.

Thank you to the bumbleby fandom for being so kind and welcoming. The RWBY fandom can be hit or miss and there’s a lot of things that anger me. But seeing the energy that you lil bees put into your shitposts, fics and analysis is incredible and inspiring.

And thank you to Monty Oum. None of this would have happened without him. I wasn’t apart of the fandom during his time but I see the effect he had on so many on a daily basis. He was an incredible person who is still greatly missed.

Happiness can be so rare in this world, then we find it in little things like a conversation or a story, whose to say that we shouldn’t hold onto it? You deserve that happiness after all, even if you can’t see it yet. And I sincerely hope that you find it somewhere each day 💕

And at the end of the day, isn’t that what this show is about? Holding onto to that spark and never letting go of hope and love despite the apathy surrounding you?

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thaumatological · 5 years

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im gonnaaaa revise and post my very dirk centric analysis of the epilogues here as well

also in case it needs stating, spoilers abound!

i read through both of the epilogues simultaneously yesterday, consuming both at the same time rather than one and then the other, and i feel like while it may not have been the most “satisfying” approach from a character-centric perspective, i have a more complete understanding of the stories than those who read them separately. if you’ve read through both and have the stomach to do it again for some reason, i suggest doing it in parallel, m1 c1 m2 c2 etc.

i will warn you though, i ended up having two nightmares at the same time in my dreams last night. like, simultaneously, two separate threads of terror unraveling in my subconscious. i woke up this morning already knee deep into an analysis of the homestuck epilogues, and it was less like “waking up” and more “becoming aware that i was conscious”

anyway, without further ado!

dirk killing himself in candy 14 is the scene that resonates with us as being “dirk” because it is. that’s all dirk, our dirk, the one from homestuck. he Has to do that in order for candy to continue being candy, and part of me believes that he knew that on a conscious level—hence his death being just. he knew he wouldn’t get a nice fluffy outcome in the candy timeline because him, all of him, not just this one instance, was fated to be meat dirk.

—and speaking of, the concept of Ultimate Selves pretty much squares away meat dirk. he doesn’t read like our dirk, the one from homestuck canon, because the narrative explicitly states he’s Not anymore. he’s become all of him, all of him from across paradox space, including notable players bro, doc scratch, and lord english. dirk’s Ultimate Self is a culmination of every possible him taken to the highest intensity. it reads like one of his personal nightmares because it WAS his personal nightmare—the personal nightmare of our dirk. he’s a prince of heart. the ascension to his Ultimate Self resulted in the complete destruction of the barriers between his splinters. the more i think about it, the more brilliant it is. he seems out of character as the dirk we know and love because he isn’t.

i feel like i finally Get it, but i’m still not looking forward to seeing people who dislike dirk using this to discredit the progress he made on his personal journey (ie “see he was evil the whole time!”) nor am i looking forward to all of the “dirk would never do this! it’s ooc writing!” from people who seem to have missed the part of homestuck where what scared dirk about himself most was the undeniable truth in it. there’s more than one example of “bad dirk and/or dirk byproducts” out there in paradox space. it’s more than feeling like you “might” be bad, it’s… being afraid of what you would be if you weren’t so afraid of being it, it’s seeing things that were a result of You-but-not-you and having to stare down the fact that even if you weren’t bad, even if you didn’t, you could have, would have, did. dirk’s Ultimate Self being a nightmare scenario is ..almost a recursive throwback to his fears about his ultimate self (note capitals)

him taking control of the narrative was epic though. it honestly did not catch me off guard? it makes sense. it is a 100% dirk strider move. if you haven’t read it by now for some reason, go read detective pony. i am diagnosing you with read detective pony by sonnetstuck. it’s terminal.

the only two people aside from hussie to have controlled the narrative in homestuck canon are the cherubs. and i did make the point somewhere up there that dirk absorbed lord english, and by extension, caliborn. that’s WHY he got that ability. not because he’s a prince of heart. dirk controlling the narrative makes sense from the perspective of dirk controlling the external narrative as well, ie, the whole thing is on a piece of paper that he wrote as some form of bizarre cathartic self punishment for his existence, but in the grander scheme of things and truth of homestuck dirk controlling the narrative makes sense as the puppetmaster-turned-puppet we see him become in several of his iterations, because caliborn literally becomes part of him.

everything is so skewed by the narrators. yes, both of them, because the whole point of the epilogues is that both of them suck and muse calliope is just as shitty as “impartial” “narrator” as Ultimate Self dirk is. it actually makes the whole thing a lot greyer in morality than it comes across at first. US dirk does a lot of Bad Shit as narrator, yeah, but even as passive as she is, calliope’s narration has its flaws (see: everything relating to trickster mode)

the epilogues are less about the characters themselves and more about a grander conflict between the two cherubs, using dirk and jade as their puppets—and yes, muse calliope is using jade as a puppet LITERALLY, which upsets me on so many levels i can’t even get into it here. let jade be fucking relevant and happy hussie or so help me i will write myself into your narrative and do some renovation of my own. but dirk is equally deprived of his agency in this scenario. i’m not going to debate with anyone about the inherent goodness/badness of dirk strider because that’s an entirely different essay, but in canon, dirk’s entire arc is about NOT becoming exactly what he becomes in the epilogues. the dirk we know didn’t choose to become his “Ultimate Self,” the dirk we know doesn’t get a choice between meat and candy, the dirk we know is at the mercy of the narrative even as he pretends to control it.

and that’s not something new to dirk strider, in any variation of himself. i’m specifically going back to thinking about the term “puppetmaster-turned-puppet” here, because i like it. in canon, we see dirk get out-puppeted by hal. it’s implied that bro is being controlled at least in part by lil cal, who is in turn.. a splinter of dirk indirectly via hal via arquiussprite. i’m getting a little lost in all the splinters. why is dirk’s worst enemy consistently himself? don’t answer that. uhh also it should be mentioned that makes lil cal a puppetmaster-turned-puppet-turned-puppetmaster, both literally and metaphorically. i fucking hate andrew hussie.

anyway, both of the epilogues do all that shit to to drive home the point that both of them (and i mean muse calliope and LE here when i say both, because this has officially stopped being about the dirk we know) are removed from human concepts like “good” and “evil” and represent duality in an alien manner that to a casual observer could be mistaken for some objective statement about morality, but they’re both wrong to us from our perspective as humans with human morals. the choice of candy and meat from the beginning was a cherub one. that’s not a balanced meal! that’s not even a reasonable dichotomy for humans! meat is not more real or “canon” than candy was, both of them are very flawed stories being manned at the helm by omnipotent green aliens.

okay we’re ALMOST done here, i just want to touch on the actual authors of the narrative rather than the ones the narrative insists are its narrators. by which i mean the actual real life human beings who wrote the epilogue. the point i was making above about how dirk doesn’t have any agency? the point of these epilogues were that none of the characters have any agency in their stories. every work is a reflection of its author, even when aforementioned authors are hiding behind pseudoauthors on a narrative level.

the homestuck epilogues feel very meanspirited to me. they punish their readers for not understanding their intentionally heavyhanded meta. homestuck was always very meta, but it was also fun. this, on the other hand, wasn’t fun. i haven’t seen anyone claim that the epilogues were a “fun” read, even those who enjoyed them enjoy them on the basis that “tragedy is a valid form of art,” and,,, ........and their opinions are. valid. and they can have them. sure.

but for those of us who read stories in order to enjoy them, which i am safely assuming makes up the majority of those who read homestuck, the homestuck epilogues are like a final kick in the teeth as a send off to a fandom with barely any teeth left to lose. we’re already having people who refuse to read them, and god i wish that were me, but it’s also.,, you can’t criticize something properly if you haven’t read it. we’re going to see a lot of very bad takes in the coming days about all kinds of things from information proliferating through the grapevine, and personally, i am not looking forward to it. i really hope this is the end, that homestuck is finally fucking over, and the epilogues are done with and we can all live our lives unmarred by strange orange men with typewriters. i’m going to hole up with my cool and new webcomic music albums and all of the good novel-length dirk-centric fic i’ve bookmarked over the years and wait this one out. i invite you to do the same.

cool and new webcomic bandcamp | cool and new greatest hits | my personal favorite album by them

detective pony by sonnetstuck (seriously please read this it watered my crops and cured my lead poisoning)

literally anything by callmearcturus but this is my personal favorite (chamomile, rosewater, and other unlikely intoxicants)

this long winded discworld joke by oxfordroulette that inflicted me with a terminal case of loving jake english despite it being a dirkjohn fic (vanitas vanitatum) also if you finish reading this one and also succumbed to loving jake english, i’m not going to link it but they have another fic that’ll scratch that itch for you. that’s all i’ll say on that matter.

this fic said nonverbal autistic dirk rights and thank god (we were made for another world by princex_n)

thanks for reading

#194 #will i put it in the tags? yes actually #dirk strider #that's all

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