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beeroses · 3 years

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I’ll take the lot

FanFic Friday are starting to feel more like FanFic Mondays... sorry for the delays! Your picture inspired stuff @rebelwrites, and apparently, a lot of stuff..!! So here’s a whole lot of Bishop fluff thrown at all of you! If you wanna be added to the taglist, please holler, I’ll be glad to!

Warnings : Pet names are female (Querida, Reina) but no other descriptions made, slight language warning, Angel’s still a douchebag, sorry, it’s a theme I guess..!

Gif credits to gif maker, Mayans credit to Mayans makers

- So, Querida, what do you think?

- This is absolutely beautiful, Obispo, I just think it’s really funny that out of everywhere in the State you could’ve chosen, you went for San Luis Obispo County, you answered!

- Ahh come on Querida, I chose the Moonstone Beach not Obispo County, don’t laugh!!! I chose this place because I’ve heard you get to see the most beautiful sunsets in the country, here.

- Have you gotten soft, Presidente? you asked, smirking.

- No I haven’t, he coughed slightly and then you heard him mumble : it’s just really hard to find a place more beautiful than you…

You smiled to yourself, the man was pretty damn near perfect. You’ve had ups and downs, things had gotten crazy with the club then had calmed down, but whatever was going on around, your beautiful boyfriend made sure to spend time with you, to take you out and to go away with you. He never once put you aside deliberately and always included you in every aspect of his life. Crazy lives you two were living, but you wouldn’t have changed it for the world.

- I love you, Obispo, and I love this place, you smiled.

He took your hands in his and smiled, looking out in the distance. He looked deep in thought but when didn’t he? You enjoyed the breeze coming from the ocean as you kept looking at the horizon. He was right, this place was absolutely breathtaking. You knew he had something on his mind because he kept fidgeting with his fingers and yours, while holding hands. You never wanted to pry and sometimes, things were just better the less you knew, but after a while in absolute silence, you got a little bit nervous.

- Is everything ok, Cariño ?

He almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of your voice. Very, very deep in thoughts, indeed.

- I’m sorry Querida, I spaced out.

- Yeah, I noticed… Anything you wanna talk about? you tried.

- Actually, yeah, I think I should. Looks like the perfect time to…

His words trailed off when the both of you heard :

- HEY PREZ!

- You’ve GOT to be kidding me…

You looked over Bishop’s shoulder only to see the Reyes brothers coming your way, rapidly. Angel having cotton candy in his hands, EZ carrying his childish smile around like a trophy for the best brushed teeth in the entire universe. Bishop looked annoyed to no end.

- Hey Prez, what a pleasure! Out of everyplace you could’ve gone to for your day off, we come to the same one! Angel said, excited by the coincidence and clearly not reading the room.

- Out of Every. Goddamn. Places. Bishop mumbles.

The Reyes brothers invite the two of you to spend the rest of the evening together and you both accept, even though you feel like Bishop is long gone in his head again. Although you loved Abbott and Costello to absolutely no end, you were almost mad at the unexpected meet.

*****************************************************************************************************

It both always bothered you and never did, the fact that, as Presidente, Obispo rarely had time off. You managed with the time you had, the evenings when he left early, the lazy Sundays, he would allow himself, sometimes, the lunches he’d bring at your job so you could eat together. Therefore, it took a couple of weeks until he got a full weekend off. You had decided to go North a little and settle for a more deserted destination, near the Joshua Tree National Park. You knew, for a fact, that whatever Bishop wanted and felt ready to share with you hadn’t left his thoughts yet. You had seen the wrinkles on his forehead, the ones he only got when he was deeply worried about something. It stuck from the second he got interrupted by the impossible comedic duo up until you settled in your room, feet away from the park.

- Wow, you’re going all out, Obispo! you teased.

- Well, I try to make it right to mi Reina.

- You know you don’t have to pull all the stops, like this! I’m very happy at the littlest things, you know that!

- I do, he said, pulling you in his arms, but I really want this to be perfect, just like you, he whispered in you ear.

The day went on nicely, you brought yourself a picnic to enjoy while enjoying the beauty and peace of the park. Everything was going absolutely perfectly. Towards the evening, Bishop pushed an outfit towards you, something a little more fancy than you had thought but, what the hell, if your man wanted you wearing that outfit, you’d obliged, especially since the frown had seem to disappear along the day. You walked out of the bathroom and saw Obispo look at you, almost stunned, something very deer-in-the-middle-of-traffic, like. You could’ve almost sworn you saw the man blush. But he turned his head, making sure he had everything, mumbling how gorgeous you were, almost more to himself than to you. You saw him fumble with the hotel key, his keys, his wallet, and stumbled on his own feet. He looked like a baby animal just learning to deal with it’s legs. You laughed at his sudden awkwardness.

- You ok there, El Presidente? you asked, a smirk stapled on our face.

- I’m fine, of course, yes, I’m fine. You look stunning, Querida, did I tell you?

- Not directly, but the fact you don’t remember how to use your legs correctly said it for you… you laughed. Come here.

You pulled him towards you and made him face you.

- Will you finally tell me what’s going on with you? You’ve been so.. distant, in your head, lately.

- Yeah, I will, I promise.

- Tonight?

- Tonight, he agreed.

You left, hand in hand, and walked to a car Obispo had ordered to take you to a gorgeous restaurant, which had a beautiful terrace. You sat at your table and ordered drinks. Obispo kept your hand in his at all time. You could sense he was ready to talk about whatever’s been troubling him over the past couple of weeks.

- So, Querida, after everything we’ve been through, you know, it’s nice to be able to get away, like this, just us, he said, running his thumb on the top of your hand.

- It’s.. you started.

- PRIMO! Alvarez said, just walking in with his wife and coming towards you. What are the odds, my man?

- I’d say pretty good, lately… Bishop stated.

Alvarez and his wife took a seat at the table next to you and chatted you guys all night. You came back very late at the hotel and knew the moment was gone. Again. Early the next morning, Bishop received a phone call from Taza and you guys had to cut your trip short, putting an axe, once again, on that long overdue conversation.

*****************************************************************************************************

You got woken up by Obispo travelling back and forth across the room, grabbing clothes and throwing them in a duffle bag.

- You going on a run? you asked him, surprised as he hadn’t told you about it.

- No, we are, he answered.

- I’m sorry, who?

- You and me. We’re going away. Right now.

- But…

- No buts, Querida, let’s go!

The two of you left, at the crack of dawn, on his motorcycle, for somewhere only he knew. You drove for a while and stopped along the beach, where a beautiful boardwalk pushed into the ocean. Bishop took your hand in his and pulled you towards the furthest part of the walk, the one that pushed the furthest into the great Blue. You leaned on the railway to look further into the sea. The lightning of the morning sun making the water look like it was filled with diamonds. Everything about the scenery was absolutely breathtaking.

- Bish, what are we doing here? you asked, blown away.

- I wanted to find someplace special, since I think we’re long overdue to talk, you and me, he said.

- You didn’t have to kidnap me, you know, you said, smirk on display on your features.

- Pff, if I’d kidnapped you, you’d know, trust me, he winked.

You looked at the sea a little more and turned fully around to give your full attention to the man in front of you.

- So, Querida, I’ve been so lucky to have you stand by me through the years, you’ve been nothing but my…

- Bish, HEY, BISH!

- You’re FUCKING KIDDING ME. WHAT? Obispo asked, turning towards the voice. There stood half the Mayans. Gilly, Coco, Angel and EZ, on their motorcycles.

- What are you doing here, Prez, Gilly asked, isn’t there Templo in an hour?

- Yeah, I fell off that girl’s bed to be there in time, why are you here ? Angel asked.

- Do you even remember her name? EZ asked his brother.

- I don’t think she ever told me, Angel said smugly.

- WILL YOU JUST FUCKING SHUT UP? CAN’T A MAN ASK HIS GIRLFRIEND TO MARRY HIM, ROMANTICALLY, WITHOUT BEING INTERRUPTED EVERY SINGLE TIME? Bishop screamed at his brothers.

Then fell silence. The boys looked sheepishly at the pavement, gathering up excuses to run away as fast and far as they could. You looked absolutely stunned. Bishop looked enraged.

- Is that… Is it… It that what’s been bothering you, lately? you asked, wild eyed, tears welling up quickly to blur your vision.

Obispo just then realized your presence and how badly it went. He’d been trying to find a way, a place, a setting, everything to make sure it was the most romantic engagement, for his Reina and it ended being the worst possible way.

- It wasn’t bothering me… I just… he sighed deeply, I really wanted this to be perfect, you know.

- I didn’t choose you because you’re perfect, Obispo. I chose you because you’re you.

- Hopefully you also chose me because of my impatience and the fact I cannot, for the life of me, get rid of these punkasses.

- Like I said, I chose you because you’re you. And if you come with impatience, tantrums and those douchebags, then I’ll take the lot.

- Are you saying yes? Obispo asked, hopeful.

- Por supuesto, diciendo que si, mi Amor!!

Bishop took you in his strong arms and pulled you to his chest. The kiss you got was quite possibly the most passionate you’ve ever shared. The boys clapped and cheered, Gilly wolfwhistled and got a death stare from Bishop, therefore stopped immediately.

- Hey, just for the record, I never said I pulled tantrums, Bishop said, squinting at you.

- I said what I said, you winked as you felt him push the ring on your finger, squeezing your hand in his, lovingly.

@chibsytelford @yosoynicolexo @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo

#Bishop #bishop losa #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa fanfic #obispo losa #obispo bishop losa #Mayans MC #mayans x reader #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans fanfiction #Fanfic Friday #rebels writing challenge #beeroses writing #bishop losa one shot #mayans one shot #fluff

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rightfcllysols · 3 years

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Hey could you write about azul speaking with mc/so (this takes places in chapter 3) and so when azul is like "well since you don't have any magic you could put ramshackle dorm" and they're like "well I actually have something really special for you" and he's like "oh really well show me" they tell him to give them his dominant hand and put a flower ring in his ring finger then they say "when I can ill exchange it for a true one from a jewelry" and everyone is just shocked. And fluffynes happens

Ack my heart (❁´◡`❁)

A RING OF COMPROMISE, azul ashengrotto x reader

short fluff scenario of azul panicking when his s/o gave him a flower ring

azul being a soft dude at heart bc we all love him

❝ Corporate can't ask me to choose

between you or the world,

they're the literal same. ❞

"Wh—" Azul reflexively jerked his hand back, cradling it as if it was the most fragile thing to ever exist.

Floyd gaped, and believe it or not, even Jade is a little stunned at your boldness. He knows you're quite the blunt human, but not to this extent. He ended up covering his mouth with his palm to prevent his laughter from coming out.

Ace basically vibrated, either it's because he wanted to laugh or cry you'll never know.

Deuce? Who's Deuce? You meant that ghost floating out from a body?

Jack felt really awkward, but he cheered for your boldness inside.

You stood with a smile as Azul uttered incoherent nonsense, his glasses fogging as his face turned redder than the roses back in heartslabyul.

He learned this before...! This is how humans court... And he can't help but feel a little— no, really nervous. He swore, he had never felt the overwhelming urge to just bury himself inside his octopot more than this.

Azul slowly but surely will gain his composure back, the remaining traces of red could still be seen despite his smug facade. Calm yourself down, Azul Ashengrotto! You need to keep your cool, after all, two can play at this game. He will smoothly dismiss himself, not knowing that you tailed behind him like a love-struck puppy.

Once he does realize though, he will jump three feet into the air before you soothe him down from hyperventilating.

He's very... Jittery. He had never heard someone actually confessing their love to him, and you were a first. Moreover, the next day you decided to give him what's basically an engagement ring?

It's only natural that he felt so nervous his body ceased to function by creating a proper sentence.

Give him a few minutes and he'll calm down, at least a little. His hands still shook, adjusting his glasses as he swallowed thickly.

"Why are you following me?" He spluttered, coughing into his palm to fix himself.

"You haven't given me your answer yet," You blurted, crossing your arms jubilantly.

"..." Azul inhaled, and it seems like he had to put all the bravery he had left to approach you without trembling, "Isn't it obvious?"

You cocked your head to the side, feigning ignorance as you smiled a little. "What is obvious...?"

He sighed, shaking his head vehemently. "It's a little bit early for that... I believe we should start slow."

"Huh..." You deflated like a balloon, looking to the side.

Then you felt his lithe gloved fingers caressing your jaw, turning you to face him directly.

Your half-lidded eyes bask in his inhumane beauty, the way his eyes shone with seas reflecting stories inside them has always been the one to entrance you. Complimenting his unblemished skin was the mole sitting just below the left corner of his lips. In all honesty, he looked like someone out of your league but here he was.

Standing, living, and breathing. And most importantly, loving you.

"Hey? Can you let go of me now? My neck is getting a cra—"

Chu~!

You froze.

Ghosting your fingers over your lips gingerly, your jaw dropped. The lingering taste of salty water mixed with faint [f. Beverage] was enough to send you to orbit.

Azul gave you his signature smile, looking like he had outwitted his feelings— and you, too.

"Don't get too cheeky on me, angelfish. I might have lost the battle, but clearly, I won the war."

#azul ashengrotto x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted #wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto #octavinelle x reader #octavinelle #disney #twisted wonderland azul

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tlbodine · 3 years

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The Horror Genius of Five Nights At Freddy’s

I’ve been playing FNAF: Help Wanted VR on my Oculus Quest lately (a birthday present to myself -- I know I’m late to that party!) and it’s reignited in me my old love of this series. I know Scott Cawthon’s politics aren’t great, but I don’t think there’s any malice in his heart beyond usual Christian conservative nonsense -- and I think he stepped down as graciously and magnanimously as possible when confronted about it. Time will judge Scott Cawthon’s politics, and that’s not what I’m here to talk about. I want to talk about what makes these games so damn special, from a horror, design, and marketing perspective. I think there’s really SO MUCH to be learned from studying these games and the wider influence they’ve had as intellectual property.

What Is FNAF?

In case you’ve somehow been living under a rock for the last seven years, Five Nights At Freddy’s (hereafter, FNAF) is a horror franchise spanning 17 games (10 main games + some spinoffs and troll games, we’ll get to that), 27 books, a movie deal, and a couple live-action attractions.

But before it exploded into that kind of tremendous IP, it started out as a single indie pont-and-click game created entirely by one dude, Scott Cawthon. Cawthon had developed other games in the past without much fame or success, including some Christian children’s entertainment. He was working as a cashier at Dollar General and making games in his spare time -- and most of those games got panned.

So he tried making something different.

After being criticized that the characters in one of his children’s games looked like soulless, creepy animatronics, Cawthon had his lightbulb moment and created a horror game centered on....creepy animatronics!

The rest, as they say, is history.

The Genius of FNAF’s Horror Elements

In the first FNAF game, you play as a night security guard at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza, a sort of ersatz Chuck-E-Cheese establishment. The animatronics are on free-roaming mode at night, but you don’t want to let them find you in your security room so you have to watch them move through the building on security camera monitors. If they get too close, you can slam your security room doors closed. But be careful, because this restaurant operates on a shoestring budget, and the power will go off if you keep the doors closed too long or flicker the lights too often. And once the lights go out, you’re helpless against the animatronics in the dark.

Guiding you through your gameplay is a fellow employee, Phone Guy, who calls you each night with some helpful advice. Phone Guy is voiced by Cawthon himself, and listening to his tapes gives you some hints of the game’s underlying story as well as telling you how to play. A few newspaper clippings and other bits of scrap material help to fill in more details of the story.

Over the next set of games, the story would be further developed, with each new game introducing new mechanics and variations on the theme -- in one, you don a mask to slip past the notice of animatronics; in another, you have to play sound cues to lure an animatronic away from you. By the fourth game, the setup was changed completely, now featuring a child with a flashlight hiding from the monsters outside his door -- nightmarish versions of the beloved child-friendly mascots. The mechanics change just enough between variations to keep things fresh while maintaining a consistent brand.

There are so many things these games do well from a storytelling and horror perspective:

Jump Scares: It’s easy to shrug these games off for relying heavily on jump scares, and they absolutely do have a lot of them. But they’re used strategically. In most games, the jump scares are a punishment (a controlled shock, if you will) -- if you play the game perfectly, you’ll never be jump-scared. This is an important design choice that a lot of other horror games don’t follow.

Atmospheric Dread: These games absolutely deliver horror and tension through every element of design -- some more than others, admittedly. But a combination of sound cues, the overall texture and aesthetic of the world, the “things move when you’re not looking at them” mechanic, all of it works together to create a feeling of unease and paranoia.

Paranoia: As in most survival horror games, you’re at a disadvantage. You can’t move or defend yourself, really -- all you can do is watch. And so watch you do. Except it’s a false sense of security, because flicking lights and checking cameras uses up precious resources, putting you at greater risk. So you have to balance your compulsive need to check, double-check, and make sure...with methodical resource conservation. The best way to survive these games is to remain calm and focused. It’s a brilliant design choice.

Visceral Horror: The monster design of the animatronics is absolutely delightful, and there’s a whole range of them to choose from. The sheer size and weight of the creatures, the way they move and position themselves, their grunginess, the deadness of their eyes, the quantity and prominence of their teeth. They are simultaneously adorable and horrifying.

Implicit Horror: One of the greatest strengths to FNAF as a franchise is that it never wears its story on its sleeve. Instead of outright telling you what’s going on, the story is delivered in bits and pieces that you have to put together yourself -- creating a puzzle for an engaged player to think about and theorize over and consider long after the game is done. But more than that, the nature of the horror itself is such that it becomes increasingly upsetting the more you think on it. The implications of what’s going on in the game world -- that there are decaying bodies tucked away inside mascots that continue to perform for children, that a man dressed in a costume is luring kids away into a private room to kill them, and so forth -- are the epitome of fridge horror.

The FNAF lore does admittedly start to become fairly ridiculous and convoluted as the franchise wears on. But even ret-conned material manages to be pretty interesting in its own right (and there is nothing in the world keeping you from playing the first four games, or even the first six, and pretending none of the rest exist).

Another thing I really appreciate about the FNAF franchise is that it’s quite funny, in a way that complements and underscores the horror rather than detracting from it. It’s something a lot of other properties utterly fail to do.

The Genius of Scott Cawthon’s Marketing

OK, so FNAF utilizes a multi-prong attack for creating horror and implements it well -- big deal. Why did it explode into a massive IP sensation when other indie horror games that are just as well-made barely made a blip on the radar?

Well! That’s where the real genius comes in. This game was built and marketed in a way to maximize its franchisability.

First, the story utilizes instantly identifiable, simple but effective character designs, and then generates more and more instantly identifiable unique characters with each iteration. Having a wealth of characters and clever, unique designs basically paves the way for merchandise and fan-works. (That they’re anthropomorphic animal designs also probably helped -- because that taps into the furry fandom as well without completely alienating non-furries).

Speaking of fan-work, Scott Cawthon has always been very supportive of fandom, only taking action when people would try to profit off knock-off games and that sort of thing -- basically bad-faith copies. But as far as I know he’s always been super chill with fan-created content, even going so far as to engage directly with the fandom. Which brings me to....

These games were practically designed for streaming, and he took care to deliver them into the hands of influential streamers. Because the games are heavy on jump-scares and scale in difficulty (even including extra-challenging modes after the core game is beaten) they are extremely fun to watch people play. They’re short enough to be easily finished over the duration of a long stream, and they’re episodic -- lending themselves perfectly to a YouTube Lets Play format. One Night = One Video, and now the streamer has weeks of content from your game (but viewers can jump in at any time without really missing much).

The games are kid-friendly but also genuinely frightening. Because the most disturbing parts of the game’s lore are hinted at rather than made explicit, younger players can easily engage with the game on a more basic surface level, and others can go as deep into the lore as they feel comfortable. There is no blood and gore and violence or even any explicitly stated death in the main game; all of the murder and death is portrayed obliquely by way of 8-bit mini games and tangential references. Making this game terrifying but accessible to youngsters, and then marketing it directly to younger viewers through popular streamers (and later, merchandising deals) is genius -- because it creates a very broad potential audience, and kids tend to spend 100% of their money (birthdays, allowances, etc.) and are most likely to tell their friends about this super scary game, etc. etc.

By creating a puzzle box of lore, and then interacting directly with the fandom -- dropping hints, trolling, essentially creating an ARG of his own lore through his website, in-game easter eggs, and tie-in materials -- Cawthon created a mystery for fandom to solve. And fans LOVE endlessly speculating over convoluted theories.

Cawthon released these games FAST. He dropped FNAF 2 within months of the first game’s release, and kept up a pace of 1-2 games a year ever since. This steady output ensured the games never dropped out of public consciousness -- and introducing new puzzle pieces for the lore-hungry fans to pore over helped keep the discussion going.

I think MatPat and The Game Theorists owe a tremendous amount of their own huge success to this game. I think Markiplier does, too, and other big streamers and YouTubers. It’s been fascinating watching the symbiotic relationship between these games and the people who make content about these games. Obviously that’s true for a lot of fandom -- but FNAF feels so special because it really did start so small. It’s a true rags-to-riches sleeper hit and luck absolutely played a role in its growth, but skill is a big part too.

Take-Aways For Creatives

I want to be very clear here: I do not think that every piece of media needs to be “IP,” franchisable, an extended universe, or a multimedia sensation. I think there is plenty to be said for creating art of all types, and sometimes that means a standalone story with a small audience.

But if you do want a chance at real break-out, run-away success and forging a media empire of your own, I think there are some take-aways to be learned from the success of FNAF:

Persistence. Scott Cawthon studied animation and game-design in the 1990s and released his first game in 2002. He released a bunch of stuff afterward. None of it stuck. It took 12 years to hit on the winning formula, and then another several years of incredibly hard work to push out more titles and stoke the fires before it really became a sensation. Wherever you’re at on your creative journey, don’t give up. You never know when your next thing will be The Thing that breaks you out.

If you want to sell a lot of something, you have to make it widely appealing to a bunch of people. This means keeping your concept simple to understand (”security guard wards off creepy killer animatronics at a pizza parlor”) and appealing to as wide a segment of the market as you can (ie, a horror story that appeals to both kids and adults). The more hyper-specific your audience, the harder it’s gonna be to find them and the fewer copies of your thing you’ll be selling.

Know your shit and put your best work out there. I think there’s an impulse to feel like “well, nobody reads this anyway, so why does it matter if it’s no good” (I certainly have fallen into that on multiple occasions) but that’s the wrong way to think about it. You never know when and where your break will come. Put your best work out there and keep on polishing your craft with better and better stuff because eventually one of those things you chuck out there is going to be The Thing.

Figure out where your target audience hangs out, and who influences them, and then get your thing in the hands of those influencers. Streaming and YouTube were the secret to FNAF’s success. Maybe yours will be BookTube, or Instagram, or a secret cabal of free librarians. I don’t know. But you should try your best to figure out who would like the thing that you’re making, and then figure out how to reach those people, and put all of your energy into that instead of shotgun-blasting your marketing all willy nilly.

You don’t have to put the whole story on the page. Audiences love puzzles. Fans love mysteries. You can actually leave a lot more unanswered than you think. There’s some value in keeping secrets and leaving things for others to fill in. Remember -- your art is only partly yours. The sandbox belongs to others to play in, too, and you have to let them do that.

If in doubt, appealing to furries never hurts.

Do I take all of this advice myself? Not by a long shot. But it’s definitely a lot to think about.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go beat The Curse of Dreadbear.

#horror analysis #writing advice #fnaf

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clearlynotjanus · 3 years

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Loceit Appreciation Week: Day Two, Crook/Aftermath

READ ON AO3

Chapter Summary: As the aftermath of choosing to attend Lee & Mary-Lee's wedding over Thomas' big acting break approaches, Janus extends Logan an unprecedented olive branch that results in the pair inadvertently working together.

CW: Drinking mention, very brief religion mention, philosophy Word Count: 3703 Genre: Gen, Hurt/comfort Rating: Gen Ships: Slowburn Loceit, pre-established Dukeceit, pre-established Intrulogical, slowburn intruloceit

taglist: @sanderssidesangsttrash @catalinaacosta @whatishappeningrightnow @anxiousbean4404 @vexelore @the-dead-and-the-decaying @serpentinesomebody @poptartsaysurloved @robertdownerjr @dangitsbrightinhere @iamuncomffy @sanderdarksides @evertriedsoywithyourpopcorn @dragonfander @virgilstarantula @a-rudethude @indubitably-emo @gay-artist-626 @cosplayhanna @edupunkn00b @wouldntyou-liketoknow @awesomerandomgirl1 @rizzyluke @loceitweek2021

To support my writing, consider subscribing to my Patreon or checking out my Ko-fi.

April 13th was rapidly approaching and with each passing hour, Thomas sank deeper into denial. Indecision welled as he went back and forth on the subject matter; callback or wedding, callback or wedding, the opportunity of a lifetime or a petty social engagement -- ugh. There was nothing resolute about his choice, about Roman’s choice. It was impulsive, fueled by the short lived desire to be seen as a good person. The kicker was that, even though Thomas was beginning to see this much, it didn’t matter. He would continue burying the realization under mounds of repression while justifying his discontent every way he could manage, grasping at every straw and still coming up short.

And Janus was supposed to help him, obviously. Repression may have been Patton’s speciality at times, but lying was his jurisdiction; even and especially when those lies were told to himself -- Thomas’ self. He was expected to disregard the resentment in his heart and perform his function. Well, if Thomas could make questionable decisions, then so could Janus, and he decided that they would all find it very difficult to cope when Thomas suddenly found himself incapable of lying on the wretched day. Maybe then Janus’ argument would be taken seriously -- but that was assuming Thomas would even notice.

Stewing in these thoughts, Janus shifted in his seat. Remus, used to his malcontented fidgeting, never spared a glance, however Logan seemed to finally have had enough.

“Are you alright, Janus?” Logan asked from his position, diagonal from the other. His tone was more annoyed and straightforward than concerned. He had genuinely been interested in the show Remus had put on but found it impossible to concentrate with Janus’ excessive sighing and movement.

“I suppose,” Janus lamented, resuming his contemplative silence. Perturbed, Logan adjusted his glasses and resigned himself to sitting back.

“Well, if there’s anything to be done,” Logan offered mindlessly, allowing his sentence to trail off as his focus resumed on the television.

“Well there is one thing,” Janus seized the opportunity after a brief pause, leaning forward with a hushed tone. Logan blinked at the sudden intensity of Janus’ charm.

“And that would be?” He responded dubiously, glancing almost nervously at Remus who seemed utterly absorbed by the show, sparing no attention to either of them. Similarly, Janus opened his mouth to begin speaking, but then inhaled as he registered the fact of Remus in the room still.

“Join me in the kitchen for a moment?” Janus stood fluidly, “I think we could use a drink,” he excused the thinly veiled shift before turning and exiting for the kitchen.

Confused, Logan sat up, only then realizing how much he had leaned towards Janus in the moment. The back of his neck itched with a familiar heat and he cleared his throat.

“I guess I’ll be--” Logan started to explain but Remus quickly waved a hand and shhhh’d him aggressively. With a small smile, Logan pressed a brief kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek, earning a soft sound of appreciation before standing and following after Janus.

Logan entered as Janus finished pouring a second glass of wine. Assuming the other already filled was for him, Logan accepted and rested a hip against the counter. He crossed an arm under his elbow and watched Janus cap the wine with expectation in his raised chin, but Janus didn’t start speaking until he brought the glass to his lips.

“Something’s coming, you do realize,” he said while meeting Logan’s eyes carefully, his voice low and smooth like a secret. Janus followed his sentence with a slow sip. Logan took the pause to formulate his answer.

“That depends entirely on what you mean by ‘something,’” Logan replied hesitantly, but with a loosely concealed air of knowing.

The date of Lee and Mary-Lee’s wedding was of little importance to him, though the ramifications on Thomas’ stress levels were vexing. The two were connected, obviously, Logan wasn’t so ignorant as to pretend otherwise; however, he couldn’t empathize nor sympathize with Thomas’ decision -- or Roman’s decision, rather. If providing support for his friends was truly paramount, then why was Thomas stressed? He was unable to sleep soundly despite understanding Remus’ behavior now. Similarly unable to concentrate on work, thoughtlessly picking at his food, distracted by persistent and troubling thoughts of guilt, remorse, and failure.

“But yes,” Logan shook his head, conceding. “Something is coming and we’re all bound to talk in circles again.” He sighed and took a sip that quickly turned into a gulp from his glass.

“They never do listen to you,” Janus pointed out sympathetically and Logan frowned, looking away. “That isn’t your fault, of course,” he quickly soothed the burning truth but Logan remained silent for several long moments. Before he spoke again, he brought his glass up for another long drink.

“It is true though,” Logan admitted with a sigh. It was Janus’ turn to frown. They were all so ignorant to ignore Logic of all sides. How Logan had kept his patience for this long was beyond him.

“I don’t know how to make them listen,” Logan whispered, stare unfocused across the room. “Sometimes they do but,” his shoulders deflated and he rolled his eyes back up to Janus’ face, his lips lined in resigned disappointment. “More frequently they take my lessons in the opposite direction and come up with some alternative and pointless meaning,” Exasperation leaked into his tone. Janus exhaled in the following silence.

“Well, my favor,” he started after a moment and Logan blinked up, suddenly remembering what this conversation was supposed to be about, “with that in mind, is less for me than it is for you.”

Logan’s brows creased as his eyes narrowed, not in suspicion but in confusion. He opened his mouth, intending to ask how that could possibly be, but his breath was quickly stolen by Janus’ delicate hand on his shoulder as he began to leave.

“When the time comes,” Janus whispered almost directly into Logan’s ear as he leaned in. Goosebumps raised along his arms and his stomach knotted in a way he was beginning to associate with Janus specifically. “Rely on me.”

- - - - -

Another debate spent as an observer, reduced to an annoying popup ad not even most of the audience bothered to pause for; too enthralled with the meaningless, cyclical conversation enduring above. At least Logan could console himself with the idea that some people were reading what he had to say. Thomas, at the very least, already knew everything he was saying. Logic wasn’t a feeling after all but something deeply embedded. A fact that only added fuel to the fire of frustration but that wasn’t something he was concentrating on currently.

Then Patton finally asked for his input directly. Logan already knew that Patton wouldn’t like what he had to say, but it was what Thomas needed to hear; the reality that’s been lying underneath every decision they’ve ever made. It was something Patton actively avoided thinking about. The fact was that his view and use of empathy was far more akin to pity, a feeling that only thinly veiled the nihilistic complex Morality had gotten entangled with in Thomas’ youth. “God,” “fate,” and “nothingness;” were all just terms for relinquishing control of one’s life. A habit that was clearly getting Thomas into situations that weighed on him heavily.

Logan began with reciting the source material: pity runs counter to the instincts that preserve and enhance the value of life. Friedrich Nietzche’s The Anti-Christ. A fantastic read about Nietzsche's claim that Christianity is a poisoner of western culture with its inherent apathy central to westernization. That wasn’t the first sentence nor was it the opening statement of the section he was referring to, but it was a perfectly adequate summary. However Logan didn’t even finish half of his following sentence explaining Nietzche’s philosophy before a yellow and black button appeared on his textbox. Skip all -- click. No hesitation.

No second thought.

Well, Logan did say that he was making his facts optional this time.

Something hard suddenly wrapped around his throat and the next thing Logan knew, he was being violently torn away from the scene.

Upright on his feet, he landed in a familiar place. Blinking around the shadowy corners of the Dark Side living room, Logan cleared his throat and adjusted his tie with tense hands. How unnecessarily brutal, he thought.

“Oh hey, Lolo!” Remus greeted from the couch, suddenly realizing his forced entrance. “De -- I mean Jan just left!” A pause. “Wait,” he said slowly like he suspected them of something, but when he continued, he sounded humored again. “Did he send you to babysit me while he went and fucked with the Light Sides?”

Logan sighed, shoulders deflating. “It seems that way,” He conceded, piecing different puzzle pieces together but still getting the same result as Remus. “What are you doing, then,” Logan asked in a rather flat and tired tone as he sat down next to his boyfriend, who proceeded to gush about the diagram he had been sketching for a new building in his Duchy.

Logan guessed Janus had sent him here, in proximity and obligation to Remus, rather than stewing by himself in his room in case he found himself disagreeing with how this had been handled. Which he did, but only with the execution, and not enough to stop Janus at this point. Rely on me, Janus had said a few days ago now and at the time Logan had clammed up from the situation. Janus’ lips pressed against his ear, a hand on his shoulder, wine coursing through his blood; his mind had raced with possibilities and it wasn’t until now that Logan realized what a brilliant set up it had been.

Hopefully Janus got through to the others easier than him. Historically that hadn’t been the case yet but there was a severe lack of data to infer from. Logan had many chances to convince the others of various rationale at this point. Janus had only the opportunity twice. It was only fair that Logan would rely on him then, and try not to be bitter about it. They had been getting nowhere when he was involved and the only Side Logan could blame was Patton.

Minutes ticked by before Logan detected an opening for further input. Janus struggled with his metaphor, faltered and Logic appeared. Not that any of you care, he began speaking only really to Patton and Roman, but I am unharmed. Janus reacted negatively, perhaps assuming Logan was upset with him for the intrusion -- And I don’t want to talk about it. He wasn’t upset. At least not with Janus.

His explanation ensued and in a rare occurrence, everyone listened. Whether that was due to Janus having gotten their attention focused on the issue at hand or Logan finally having a convincing argument, in the moment he wasn’t sure. However nothing really spoke to the fact that Janus was an emotionally inclined Side more than the way he reacted to Logan putting a legitimate name to his stance; Effective Altruism. His expression was full of clear fascination at being taught something, intrigue to know more, attentive listening; it was Janus’ debut discussion on the stage all over again. The first time Logan had been so explicitly asked for frequent contributions in what had felt like forever. Logan easily fell back into the comforting feeling of being heard -- before sinking out and preventing himself from witnessing anymore absurd contradictions.

After leaving of his own volition to his room, Logan fell back on his bed with a sigh and removed his glasses. Everything was very difficult, he thought, pinching the bridge of his nose; and it would always be difficult as long as Patton continued to be so frustratingly obtuse. Well, at least Janus got it, but seeing that he had an easier time getting through to the others felt bitter. It really did boil down to some … fallacy of Logic, didn’t it.

Logan lost track of time in the mire of his thoughts, at some point having opened his eyes to stare blindly at the ceiling. Everything had calmed down in the living room it seemed. Thomas was now preoccupied with his friends and the Sides were released to continue with their day. Only Logan wasn’t sure what it was he should be doing. A familiar question floated through his mind like an astringently sweet memory; was he even necessary?

“Well don’t you look comfy.”

“Janus,” Logan sat up and rushed to shove his glasses on.

“Oh sorry,” Janus whispered, gesturing with a limp wrist. “Was I interrupting? Were you experiencing an emotion? Should I leave?” Janus teased with drama in his soft voice. Logan cleared his throat.

“Considering you’re already here, no,” He stood and adjusted his tie. “Why are you here? I thought everything was taken care of.”

“It is,” Janus reassured smugly but then slowly crossed the room towards Logan, his eyes and fingertips indulgently dragging along the books lining the wall. “Are you saying I can’t visit?” He paused in front of Logan with pouting lips and a hurt expression. Standing a few inches too close, he reached a gloved hand to smooth the back of Logan’s mussed bed hair. “Check up on you?”

“I didn’t say that.” Heat overtook his face as he quickly looked away, dislodging the hand in his hair with the movement. “You can. I just wasn’t expecting you.” Janus frowned.

“I don’t know why,” he replied, quietly astounded. Didn’t they have an agreement? Why wouldn’t he come to...debrief or whatever after all that? Janus’ lips pursed in a wounded expression as he watched Logan take steps away, looking everywhere but up at him. “That’s beside the point however.” He huffed a soft sigh and tilted his head, attempting to meet Logan’s eyes. “You’re very angry, aren’t you?” He guessed. For once Logan wasn’t denying any of his emotions which was both progress and rather troublesome. The misguided assumption prompted Logan to finally acknowledge his gaze again at least. Janus thought his face was rather unreadable.

“No,” Logan shook his head, giving his own heavy sigh. “Frustrated,” he admitted like Janus was pulling his teeth.

Janus hummed with understanding, raising his chin with a nod. “Well I apologize,” He offered seriously, lifting half of his mouth in a genuine expression. “Perhaps I should’ve been a tad more explicit beforehand,” Janus shrugged shallowly, willing to admit his fault. “It did work however, so I thank you for relying on me. As ... difficult as that may have been.” Janus finished, all too aware of how manipulated Logan might feel; how artificial the moments of closeness they had together lately must suddenly seem -- and while Janus wouldn’t put that sort of thing past himself, it wasn’t true in this case.

“No,” Logan shook his head, blinking at Janus’ seriousness. “I’m not frustrated with you,” he explained slowly, diverted from his frustration for a moment in the misunderstanding.

“You’re not?” Confusion mixed with intrigue on Janus’ face. “Well, what are you frustrated with then?”

Logan rapped knuckles against his desk in thought, looking away from Janus again and down at the action. It was with pride that he regarded himself as Thomas’ language center. Words came easily to him, most of the time. Struggling to phrase things wasn’t an obstacle he faced frequently. However, more often than not, Janus made this part of his job difficult. At the same time, it wasn’t something he’d blame Janus for. It wasn’t Janus’ fault Logan thought he was captivating, distracting. Beautiful.

Logan’s knuckles went still on the desk. “As usual, I find myself frustrated with emotions.” Janus’ brow twitched; was it not just frustration he was feeling? Was there something more he couldn’t articulate? “More specifically,” Logan continued and rolled his eyes back up at Janus, “I’m frustrated with Patton, which is nothing new.”

“Ahh,” Janus breathed, the sound turning into a gentle chuckle. If he had been worried, the concern began to melt away. “Yes,” he nodded slowly, “I can easily imagine that.” Janus thought on their own interaction before his arrival here, in Logan’s room. It was ... very awkward. Patton seemed unwilling to discuss the matter further, or perhaps Janus had just been trying to beat a dead horse. “He’s very naive and difficult to communicate with.” Janus scrunched his nose.

Historically, he had an easy enough time understanding Patton. He was soft, liked to see the best in people even when he had very clear evidence not to. Patton was emotional and stubborn. There wasn’t anything too complicated about him that Janus didn’t get. It was when he attempted to employ the reverse of Patton understanding him where tragedy struck. For someone who boasted about empathy, Morality had an awful time seeing where Janus came from.

“Yes, precisely. He’s so stubborn,” Logan agreed enthusiastically. As he continued, he began to gesture wildly, speaking with his hands as much as his words to convey his growing level of frustration. “It’s incredible that you’re able to get through to him so effectively when I have been trying to do the same for years now. I mean, stubborn is a kind word for him at this point and he continues to prove that at every moral junction we come to. No, not even just moral junctions; daily undertakings and productivity suffer constantly because of his unreliability! It’s just,” Logan sputtered a humorless laugh, his hands falling hard against his thighs. “Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.”

Janus paused after Logan’s rant came to an end, cocking his head thoughtfully. In the silence Logan caught his breath with a heavy sigh.

“Sorry, I … didn’t mean to blow up on you like that,” Logan apologized, dismissively shaking his head as embarrassment knotted his stomach.

“Oh no, it’s quite alright. Actually I appreciate it,” Janus quickly snuffed out Logan’s self consciousness. The words felt genuine enough and Logan took a deep breath in an attempt to quell the rising self resentment that predictably followed his emotional expression. “I was just contemplating your words, is all,” Janus continued reassuringly, and the sentiment took Logan by surprise. Why had he assumed Janus’ silence meant dismissal of his admission? “I suppose it simply comes down to a matter of communication methods,” Janus glanced to the side in a reflective pause. “You’re a teacher,” He continued after a moment, a gentle smile on his lips as he met Logan’s eyes again. “But Patton doesn’t take very well to being told things.” Logan snorted a knowing and arid laugh, but then thought on how Janus had communicated with Patton in the past.

“You also tell him things,” Logan’s brows furrowed. “He just seems to readily listen to you.”

“Ah, there’s a difference though,” Janus wagged a flimsy finger. “I don’t tell him anything he doesn’t already know at that point in the conversation. Patton’s like … a horse that desperately needs to drink, but refuses to, even when you bring the water to him directly. In such a case, you need to lead the horse to the water. But how do you get him there? Well, in Patton’s case, asking him questions that in turn make him question his own motives tends to work.”

“Ah, the Socratic method,” Logan interrupted as Janus paused.

“Exactly,” He nodded before continuing, “But more importantly, I hear his justifications. I try to see where he’s coming from so I can...clear a path, so to say, from his point A to wherever my point is.” Logan hummed thoughtfully and marveled at the amount of consideration Janus put into his communication with Patton.

It was admirable and Logan found himself agreeing, once again, with the many flattering adjectives Remus has used for his partner in the past. Graceful, patient, and ridiculously smart. His current explanation made a lot of sense, and Logan felt a bit stupid. He chuckled dryly and looked down, adjusting his glasses. Janus cocked his head, expression perplexed with raised brows.

“Did I say something funny?”

“No,” Logan sighed, “The opposite. You made a great point and I was wondering how I had never thought of that myself.” He admitted with an impressive amount of vulnerability. While the compliment felt nice, mostly Janus was now smiling with pride in Logan’s new found understanding and the handful of walls he had dropped in the process.

“Sometimes,” Janus sighed with a smile, approaching Logan as he had earlier; with steps that placed him just a little too close. “You just need some perspective.” He reached up with both hands and flattened Logan’s collar affectionately, the unexpected gesture making him inhale briskly. “I mean, we all do,” Janus continued, resting his fingers gently against Logan’s collar bones. “Not just you, of course.”

“Of course,” Logan repeated in a whisper that was more breath than words. Having Janus this close, he suddenly felt whatever intelligible response he may have had evaporate on his tongue as a heat quickly consumed his neck all the way to his cheeks.

Janus’ smile twitched wider as he lingered, mischievous amusement sparkling in his eyes. Logan was so easy to rile up; even with a foot between them right now, Janus could feel the attraction rolling off him like heat off concrete in the summer. If he continued to stand here, what would Logan do?

“How are you feeling now?” Janus asked after a silent moment. Under his hands, he could feel Logan’s heart rate pick up.

“Fine,” Logan answered automatically, the word cracking indecently. He cleared his throat which marginally brought his senses back. “Fine,” He repeated, shaking his head with a small smile. Janus thought the expression seemed a little forced.

“Good,” Janus nodded shallowly and paused for another beat before turning away, leaving the air around Logan significantly easier to breathe. “Well, if you need anything else,” Janus’ voice trailed off as he twisted the doorknob with one hand and raised another to delicately wave his fingers goodbye.

When his door clicked shut, Logan fell heavily back on his bed again with a groan that ended in a sigh.

Chapter One || Chapter Three

#loceit appreciation week #loceit week #loceitweek2021 #loceit #janus x logan #sanders sides fanfiction

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ljblueteak · 3 years

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Throwing my hat into the “Why did Paul and Jane break up?” ring. There have been fantastic posts on this already, but looking at the McCartney bios by Sounes and Salewicz back-to-back has given me a slightly different perspective (this could all need to be tossed out if anything else about them comes to light/there’s other material I’m not aware of, which is more than possible, but here’s what I’ve got for now!)

The short version: I think they split up because of a lack of long-term compatibility that they both recognized as they got older. They also grew to prefer different lifestyles and possibly also had different ideas about whether/when to start trying to have children. By the time they split up, Paul had already realized, according to the joint interview with Jane described in Hunter Davies’ 1968 bio, that it was “silly” of him to have expected Jane to do what the other Beatles’ partners had done and give up her career after marriage (Paul describing his expectation as having been “silly” is in Davies 308-309. The observation that all the other women who had “married in to the band” had given up their careers because that was “expected by men of [the Beatles’ background]” is in Sounes 189). Jane having a career she wanted to continue after marriage seems to have been resolved as a possible impediment before the split. The Salewicz bio suggests that what *may* have been a factor was the question of children, with Jane not wanting them to interfere with her career. However, it’s not clear from that bio when this question came up for them--whether it was closer to the time of the split or whether it had been discussed and resolved prior to their engagement. I think these are the main reasons they split. I don’t think his many, many, many affairs helped at all, but I think the above reasons are the main ones.

Jane and Paul got together when they were quite young (Jane was 17 and Paul was 20) and their interests diverged in a few ways that really mattered as they got older. As the bios have suggested, Jane wasn’t really into rock ‘n’roll and really wasn’t into the drug scene. Paul was into both (understatement!). This likely contributed to the tension that people like Marianne Faithful witnessed between them. In addition to that, they both seemed to realize that they didn’t ultimately “click.” For bio excerpts and more, please see below!

In terms of not actually “clicking,”which would be enough reason to end a relationship on its own, imo, here’s what Jane Asher had to say (sourced from the amazing @thecoleopterawithana via @amoralto:

“No, it wasn’t love at first sight on my side. It was several months before I felt at all certain. And of course, I was young. Only seventeen. Inevitably, one changes. After all, Paul himself was only twenty when we met.

“I knew in my bones that the break must inevitably come a long time before it actually happened. Although we had this emotional thing for each other, we found it difficult to be really happy together....”

Jane Asher, interview w/ Godfrey Winn for The Australian Women’s Weekly: Girl with a broken love affair. (April 23rd, 1969)

And here’s Paul in Many Years From Now:

“During that period with Jane Asher I learned a lot and she introduced me to a lot of things, but I think inevitably when I moved to Cavendish Avenue, I realized that she and I weren’t really going to be the thing we’d always thought we might be. Once or twice we talked about getting married, and plans were afoot but I don’t know, something really made me nervous about the whole thing. It just never settled with me, and as that’s very important for me, things must feel comfortable for me, I think it’s a pretty good gauge if you’re lucky enough. You’re not always lucky enough, but if you can feel comfortable then there’s something very special about that feeling. I hadn’t quite managed to be able to get it with Jane....She was a very intelligent and interesting person, but I just never clicked. One of those indefinable things about love is some people you click with and some people who you should maybe click with, you don’t” (264, 452-453).

In addition to their own words, there are differing takes from observers about Paul and Jane’s compatibility and reasons for the split. Artists like Jann Howarth, who along with Peter Blake made the Sergeant Pepper art and had known the Beatles for “four years” before that observes in the Sounes bio that:

“I thought [Paul and Jane] were adorable together. She was wonderful. She was a very calm person and, in the middle of all this, you felt she was a wonderful balance for him, and you felt she was his equal for sure. It didn’t feel to me as though Paul was the big deal and she was trembling along behind, whereas you felt that a bit with Pattie Boyd and some of the other gals. I mean Cynthia was left standing still, basically, by John. Whereas you felt Jane was an absolute equal to Paul and had a very supple mind” (131).

Howarth sees them as “adorable” together and says that Jane’s “Paul’s equal for sure” and doesn’t suggest that this is a source of tension in any way.

Marianne Faithful, who frequently visited Cavendish with Mick Jagger, seems to imply in her autobiography that a major cause for the tensions she observed between Paul and Jane were related to Jane’s career aspirations and that Paul had wanted “an old-fashioned Liverpool wife,” which is what he got with Linda. However, I think it’s worth noting that while there had been tensions about Jane’s career, as detailed in the Davies bio (though Paul had also been really excited about and supportive of Jane’s career), Paul had already recognized that he had been being “silly.” Of course, there may have been continuing tensions related to it, but it sounds like Paul realized he’d been wrong on the whole. In addition to that, Marianne and Mick were part of the rock ‘n’ roll drug crowd Jane disapproved of, so these tensions between Paul and Jane that Faithfull observed may very well also have been related to Jane not being thrilled about more drug-using rock ‘n’rollers taking over her house.

Here’s the bit from Marianne Faithfull’s book via The Guardian:

Visits to Paul and Jane Asher weren't quite as relaxed. They were a bit uptight, and there were constant little frictions, but that's what happens when couples start to come apart. In any case, I was in a very different position from the one that Jane found herself in. I'd done what Paul wanted Jane to do, and given up my career. I wasn't going on tour with the Old Vic; I wasn't taking any more movie roles and very few parts in plays. Jane was a serious actress and wanted to continue her career, but Paul had other ideas. That's why Linda was so perfect for Paul; she was just what he wanted, an old-fashioned Liverpool wife who was devoted to her husband. Whatever we thought of Linda - and she didn't make that great an impression on me - I think it was a credit to Paul that he didn't marry a model. Because that's what all the others have ended up doing, they've married these models. And they have children who also become models.

The Guardian, 6 October 2007.

In his bio of Paul (which doesn’t directly address Faithfull’s comments), Sounes doesn’t suggest that the perception that Paul would be happy to be with someone who was prepared to let their own career take the backseat, at least for a time, is wrong (I do think it’s important to mention that in addition to her Wings career and solo/with Paul songwriting work, Linda also did work that didn’t involve Paul’s career at all down the line, like working on her cookbooks and frozen food line). But Sounes does say that it was much more than that that drew Paul and Linda together:

“Anything Paul wanted to do seemed possible with Linda, or Lin as he called her affectionately. She had bucket-loads of American confidence, which he liked. Both were relaxed and open about sex...Lin dug rock ‘n’ roll in a way Jane never had and unlike Jane, this American girl wasn’t uptight about drugs. Although a modern, liberated woman in some ways, Lin wasn’t a committed careerist. She was already tired of scratching a living as a rock ‘n’roll photographer, more than ready to settle down with a man who could look after her and Heather” Fab (215).

Paul was also ready to start a family. Indeed, John Lennon suggested that part of what drew Paul to Linda was the “ready-made family.” In the same interview where John pointed out that Linda could provide a “ready-made family,” he claimed that Jane was not ready for children: “If Jane was to have a career, then that’s not a cozy family, is it?” Chris Salewicz’s Paul bio also addresses this, saying:

“A source of considerable contention between Paul and Jane--perhaps the cause of those adverse remarks about the theatre to Joe Orton--was her insistence that having children would interfere with her acting career. Yet, now that Paul had everything he could possibly ever want, all that remained to fulfill his life was the presence of children, something he had always desired far more than the other Beatles” (199).

While we (or at least I!) don’t know whether Paul and Jane had discussed the issue of children before they got engaged, disagreements over whether or when to have kids contribute to a fair number of breakups to this day--and they had plenty of good reasons, from just not “clicking” in the right way to disagreements over drugs, to break up anyway.

#Paul McCartney #Jane Asher #Linda McCartney #Paul and Jane #Paul and Linda #long post #really really really long post #and I have thoughts about Linda being a traditional Liverpool wife too #but that was already too long #I just edited to mention all the cheating #and could have talked about it more #but I really don't think it was a primary factor #down to discuss though!

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shinesurge · 3 years

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I’ve been holding off on making this post because I wanted to try it out myself and get settled in and make sure everything went okay, but seeing as I’ve gone ahead and updated my site and everything I thought now might be a good time to start talking about this publicly!

If you’ve known me for more than five minutes you know I fucking hate Webtoon, like, a lot. Every aspect of it disgusts me to the core of my being, and while Webtoon is the ugliest version of them the aspects that I hate also extend to basically any comic aggregate site. I hate that they treat artists like content robots, I hate that they treat comic readers like morons who aren’t capable of engaging with complex stories, I hate that they actively try to strip away all the cool parts of indie comics by cultivating sterile and impersonal environments that discourage artistic experimentation and unique expression.

So! I hope you’ll be interested in what I have to say about this new platform that’s (hopefully) going to be out of alpha this summer. If you think you like reading comics on Webtoon, I really encourage you to check out Dillyhub once it launches. That’s the short version, but I have a LOT to say about this! So I’m putting the rest of this under a cut.

Full disclosure, I’m not getting paid or anything for this. The creative outreach at Dillyhub contacted me a few weeks ago asking if I’d be interested in having Kidd Commander be one of their launch titles when they go live this summer. I was hesitant at first, since I actively distrust anything claiming to be For Creators at this point, but they answered my pushy questions patiently and everything seemed on the up and up so I gave it a shot; I’ve been needing a mobile mirror for KC anyway. Eventually they invited me to the alpha creator discord, where they’ve been working directly with all of us artists to improve the platform, and now to be honest I’m REALLY excited for this thing to get off the ground. Nobody asked me to make this post, but since I’ve spent years whining and bitching about how other services do wrong by their creators, I thought I’d talk about this one that’s doing things right.

So, the biggest advantage this site has for creators over others in my opinion is that it. Treats us like individuals, regardless of follower count lmfao. If you’re a new person just starting out with your new webcomic, here’s what webtoon does for you:

Note: you don’t get a custom banner, you don’t even get to choose the solid color it is. That big circle icon is ALSO the image that shows up in searches, but everywhere else on the site it’s a 100x100px square, so you have to choose whether you want it to look good as a giant circle at the top of your comic’s page OR whether you want to look good in search results. Which, by the way, is the ONLY way for people to find you if you’re not partnered. And that’s it! You have no monetization options, you won’t show up on the genre pages, and when someone DOES stumble across your page it looks super unprofessional. Good Luck!

Now here’s my Dillyhub page(s):

You don’t get a static banner and one icon, you get a whole carousel banner with as many images as you want front and center as soon as you get to the project page. You get seven (custom!) genre tags, as opposed to Webtoon’s single tag you have to pick from their list, and plenty of room to talk about your work. The episodes are even laid out better, you get a MUCH bigger preview space to work with and they’re nice and big on the bottom half of the page:

you know, like they’re actually presenting ART lmfao.

That’s already an ENORMOUS improvement, but here’s my favorite thing.

o hm that’s a lot of super cushy settings I have for every individual episode, but what’s that, Episode Type?

LIKE.

listen, i know this is probably a bit specialized if you’re not a comic maker yourself, but this is a HUGE DEAL. You can post vertically OR page by page! You can even post pages two at a time for double page spreads, or so they read like a physical comic book! AND their specs are really open, as long as the file meets the size requirement you can make it whatever shape you want. You don’t have to reformat all your shit to post here!! I posted the entire first volume of KC STRAIGHT FROM THE PRINT FILES in like half an hour!!! The episodes can also be any amount of pages, you can post a single page or an entire chapter all in one go!

So that’s just the project page for the comic, let’s see what happens when I click on my username there.

Each author gets their own unique page (which you can tack a vanity url to!) to present themselves however they want! You always have the banner at the top, but beyond that you have a ton of options. Among other incredibly useful tools that really should just be bare fucking minimum at this point, like the ability to preview your page on different devices, you start customizing your blank page with this set of widgets,

and from THERE you can customize them MORE, you can promote your patreon or your kickstarter or whatever! Having this creator space ALSO means that if you run several comics, or if you want to promote your comic AND your illustrations, you can just separate them into individual projects! Each with their own page! This is also really nice as a reader because you can subscribe to a creator but you can also just subscribe to specific projects, if you don’t want to get ALL of their stuff in your inbox. It’s so good y’all hh.

Once again, all of this functionality is just THERE as soon as you make your account. You don’t need to be “partnered” or whatever the fuck, you don’t need to meet a certain follower threshold to unlock the ability to operate normally. You get your own creator space to present yourself how you prefer, you get pages for all your projects, you can even set up monetization options (and change them for individual pages IN a project) right from the start.

ok ok let’s compare this to my webtoon page

oh that’s right webtoon just puts your greyed out name at the bottom of each comic and that’s it because human beings don’t make this stuff, my bad lol anyway

Other fun shit that Dillyhub does that makes me feel like they’re people who have actually consumed or made comics on the internet at some point in their lives:

-When you log into the “studio” space, you’re in your creator account. When you log OUT of the studio space, it’s like you swap to a “reader” account, where you can access your pull list and comment on things with a different name and profile icon. Again, maybe only cool if you’re a creator, but if you ARE then you know exactly why this is incredibly useful lmao

-You can set up “hidden” projects, so if you only want certain things to be accessible by certain people or to not show up in searches that’s an option! You have SO much control here it’s great.

-The comment section has moderation options GODDD. You also have a real comment space, you know, so it actually encourages building a community (and a rapport with your community, if you like), and you also can just turn comments off entirely if you want! I haven’t used it much yet, obviously, but it’s been made very clear in the discord that artists want better control over their comment sections and the devs have it on their priority list.

-Absolutely every step of customization gives you a preview before it’s live, so you can easily see what these images you’re posting in different places are going to look like before you beam them to your followers’ inboxes. This includes individual episodes!

-This was sort of in one of the screenshots but it’s important so I’m saying it here too: the option to mark individual episodes as mature or with content warnings, rather than having to mark an entire comic as Mature Spooky Scary Content because of one or two pages getting a bit hairy.

This site is only in alpha right now, and it’s invite-only until they get to beta (for creators; anyone can make a reader account! but they haven’t set up a way to browse comics without direct links yet so) but honest to god it’s already blowing every other site I’ve used clean out of the water. And the staff has been really kind and responsive to us proposing fixes or changes! I will always defend individual websites as being the best option for an indie comic, but everybody’s gotta start somewhere and we NEED something that isn’t Tumblr or Webtoon to fill this role; this site feels a lot more like a symbiotic relationship than any of the other staples available for new creators right now. If you’re a comic reader and you want to see your favorite comics on Dillyhub I’d suggest keeping an eye on this site and once it’s live start poking them to look into it, and if you’re a creator follow their social media and hop in when they open up for anybody to join. I would LOVE to see this site take off as a viable option for hosting and reading comics.

Thanks for reading all this! I haven’t quite finished setting up yet, but if you want to poke around a project/creator page for yourself mine is here have at it. As things progress I’m sure I’ll have more to say, but since I’m usually so aggressively negative about places like this I just wanted to give some credit where it was due. fucking finally.

#long post #i want this site to obliterate webtoon so fucking bad lmfao

37 notes · View notes

dayseternal-blog · 3 years

Note

If you ever finish answering all of yours awaiting asks...

45 questions for you 👀

https://myaekingheart.tumblr.com/post/650107314353897472/fic-writer-ask-game

Lolllll BADLUCKBREBIS, you are so funny.

Inspiration and Reading Asks:

1. How long ago did you start reading fanfiction? Writing fanfiction?

It looks like I started writing in 2017. I've been reflecting recently on how there are so many regularly active writers now compared to in 2017-2018. It was the tail-end of some of my fave writer's activity within fandom. Utsus was posting less and less. The Tumblr NaruHina fandom seemed to disappear, a whole community of writers left for other things (matchaball, nekomamoru, magmawrites, cherryjutsu, spyder-m, tenney-shoes, eliphya, among others). 2018 was a very quiet year, but! I avidly read katarinahime and bunnyhoodlum's works! In 2019, quirrrky restarted things with NaruHina Week!

2. How do you spend your time when it comes to fanfiction? Are you primarily a fic reader, writer, or a perfect 50/50 split of both?

Recently I’m primarily a reader!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Because there's so many writers now!!!!!!!!

3. Are there any fics that inspired you to write what you do?

Yeah, let’s list them. “A Special Friend” by agitosgirl inspired “Nightdreams. “Medicine” by @grimmjowkurosakidrake inspired “White Lilies. “Torch Song” by @mmmbuttery inspired “About You.” The language in “Unless the World Were to End” by @bunny-hoodlum inspired the language in “That was the plan.” “In Between Drinks” by @peppercornpress inspired “In Between Drinks NH.”

4. Link your three favorite fics right now.

“Operation: Bring Home Naruto” by Dragonwannabe - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. Hinata's been assigned the mission of getting Naruto back home safely after his last dangerous assignment. But can she handle the undercover identity as his girlfriend that she’d been given without revealing her true feelings for him?

“The Mission” by Lunawraythe - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. It wasn't that Hinata never expected to work with Naruto, just never on a mission quite like this.

“The Loving Type” by @peppercornpresses - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. A few years have passed since the Fourth Shinobi War, in which...Rookie Nine steadily advances in rank. Naruto gets engaged. Hinata leaves Konoha. And Kakashi schemes for days.

5. What are your fanfic pet peeves? Do they have a huge effect on whether or not you decide to read something?

ahhh. I do have quite a few pet peeves. If the fic is Canon-Compliant or Canon-Divergent, I expect Naruto and Hinata to behave like Japanese people. Say what you want, but the Naruto Universe is definitely Japanese in my book. So that means no shoes in the house. Nothing rattles me more than reading Hinata taking her sandals off before climbing into bed. Like, what? she was wearing her outdoor shoes indoors this whole time??

mmm... another pet peeve is when the writer describes Hinata in a kimono, but it sounds like an American Halloween costume, like the slutty version, instead of an actual kimono.

mmm... and the other big pet peeve I have is when it’s Hinata’s first time eating ramen because Naruto is showing her the wonders of ramen. lol. why. how. in what world would a Japanese person make it to their teenage years without ever eating ramen.

I have a bunch of other little pet peeves regarding Japanese culture in fanfics. But in general, it doesn’t stop me from reading the fic if I'm already in the middle of it. I’ll continue reading it and will probably recommend it to other people anyway. If I can tell based on the summary, then it's not for me, and I don't read it. If this makes anyone feel nervous about writing fanfiction, that's not my intention! I would also be happy to be a sensitivity reader if necessary.

6. How do you find new fic to read? Where do you primarily read fanfiction?

I primarily read fanfics on AO3 and ffnet. I find new ones by constantly checking the Hyuuga Hinata/Uzumaki Naruto tag on AO3 or looking into a writer’s favorites list on ffnet.

7. Do you prefer to read short fics or long fics?

Short fics.

8. How often do you reblog/comment on fics that you like?

I reblog pretty often. I don't comment as often as I used to😕 I used to comment on every fic I liked.

9. Tag 3 fic writers you think are underrated/unknown in the fandom/fanfiction community.

Uhh?? Idk. I think recently the writing group here is pretty tight, everyone seems to know everyone.

10. What’s your favorite fandom, pairing, or character to read fic for?

Naruto fandom and NaruHina.

Fanfiction Writing Asks:

11. How do you come up with your fic titles?

I usually take it from words used in the story or from the prompt.

12. Tell the author your favorite fic title of theirs (not the fic, strictly title). Author: what’s your favorite title you’ve come up with and why?

I think...maybe "Tell Me of Forevers" or "Nightdreams." I like those because they aren't taken word-for-word directly from the story, but touch on a theme in the story.

13. Do you outline your fics? How much of a headache would someone get if they just looked at an outline of yours without reading the fic?

Yes, I outline. They wouldn't get a headache, I think. It's usually just a summary.

14. Do you have a personal word minimum that you hold yourself too? Why or why not?

Nope. I didn't know people do that.

15. Tell the author your favorite fic of theirs. What’s your (the author’s) favorite fic you’ve written?

My favorite fic continues to be "It's No Secret."

16. Do you research for your fics? If so, how deep of a rabbit hole have you gone down by accident when researching?

Yes, I do. I've done historical and folktale research for "Little Samurai." I did area/location research for "Last Chance." I did historical research for "About You." I did fairy tale research for "Catskin." I did a ton of astronomy research for "The Cowherd and the Weaver Girl." And I did lighting research for "Inspo." I go pretty deep.

17. How obsessively do you sit and stare at your fic after you’ve just posted and wait for feedback?

I don't. I usually have something else I need to do or I go to bed.

18. Do you have a WIP that you keep telling yourself you’ll eventually get back to, but deep down you know that’s probably a lie?

I actually think I can finish all of mine if I just try.

19. Do you edit your fics after you write them, or do you prefer to just hit post and run (because it’s someone else’s problem now)?

I always edit before posting to AO3. Anything I post directly on Tumblr might not be edited.

20. What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

Posting!

21. What’s your least favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

Starting a new chapter.

22. Do you take fic requests? If so, for what characters and why?

On occasion. If someone sends me a request, I'll think about writing it. Sometimes I do write and post it, sometimes I leave them in my drafts for a better day.

23. What’s your absolute favorite trope to write?

From what I already have posted, probably friends-to-lovers, secret relationship/forbidden love, or high school au. I don't think I have an intentional favorite.

24. What’s a trope that you’d like to never hear about as long as you live, let alone write?

Public humiliation / public degradation.

25. Do you listen to music as you write? If possible, link your writing playlist.

No, not usually.

26. What’s your biggest distraction when writing?

Tumblr feed, all the pictures to scroll through mindlessly.

27. Do you like to give your readers some warning of what might be coming or just slap them in the face with content at random?

lol, whatever is fine.

28. How do you deal with writing pressure (ie: pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc)?

Well, pressure to update is not a big deal to me. I do this for fun, so I don't think I unnecessarily pressure myself too much. With negative comments, I don't get too many of those, and I think I do my best to avoid situations where I might get negative feedback.

29. Have you ever written for an exchange or event of some kind? Which one(s)? Did you enjoy it?

Yeah, I like the events. My favorite was NH2020, the year-long one last year. I also enjoyed the Secret Santa last year since @badluckbrebis was my giftee.

30. Post a snippet from your current WIP without context - no more than 300 words.

haha😈

Ecstasy slides through his veins, blooming over his mind, cocooning him in pleasant sensations, cum shooting out in eager twitches against hot, milking flesh.

31. Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones?

Naruto Uzumaki, always.

32. Copy and paste your top three favorite lines/jokes/sentences you’ve ever written. What fics do they come from?

Top 3 faves in order:

That was the plan: "She shifts in his arms, and cloth and cleavage come pillowing up to his face, and he’s certain that she’s scooped from the same puffy stuff his adolescent daydreams were made of."

Tell Me of Forevers: "What he wouldn’t do to inspire every blush, every smile of hers for an eternity when such moments already only speak “forever” to him."

White Lilies: "Whether at his feet, in his eyes, ears, mind, if not reaching his heart, she never landed anywhere. (It’s okay.)"

I consider "White Lilies" to have my technically best writing, so it was kind of hard to choose just one line from that fic! But I decided that one's my favorite line from the whole story.

33. What do you like writing better: one shots or multi-chapter stuff?

One-shots.

34. How much of yourself and your life experiences do you put into your writing? What do you think your readers’ image of you is?

A lot of my life experiences are in my writing. Hmm, I think readers probably think I'm...hmm...either empathetic or really perverted?

35. How much has writing fic changed your life?

I spend a lot less time on real-life social media than before.

36. Are there any fics or fandoms you’re embarrassed to have written or been part of?

I'm kind of embarrassed of "Honeymoon at the Hot Springs" lol. It's fine.

37. Give an update on your current WIP - if you don’t have one, give a sneak peek to a title or idea that you have and would like to write.

My current WIP is that A/B/O fic I started for February Smut Month Prompts: Sweet as Candy or Love Bites. I'm going to title it "Sweet As," and it'll be about how Naruto and Hinata become Alpha/Omega mates. It's really kinky, really smutty, and totally what I would want to read.

38. What does your writing process look like? How chaotic is it on a scale of 1 (very tame) to 10 (you can’t handle this kind of chaos)?

uhh???? a 1?? I've never once thought of my writing process as chaotic. Ahh, then I think of bunnyhoodlum's multiple drafts for the same chapter, and I realize that there exist types of writing processes that I would not be able to handle...

39. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

My smut.

40. How did you come up with the idea for [x fic]?

41. What’s your most popular fic (with the most notes on tumblr, most hits/kudos on ao3)?

Idk about Tumblr,,, maybe White Lilies got the most attention here. My most popular fic is Nightdreams on AO3.

42. Asker: pick three of the author’s works. Author: rank them 1 (the best) - 3 (the worst) based on whatever criteria you want - this could be something totally random that isn’t quality related (like simply ranking fics based on how many trains appear in them) - have fun!

43. Talk about a positive experience with fanfiction or the fanfiction community that you will always remember.

I will always remember how people congratulated me for finishing White Lilies😭 Also, when peppercornpresses made that FIRST art of my story, I just, I just stared at it all day.

44. Rant about something writing related.

hmmm, I don't feel like ranting about anything. I just recently ranted about my pet peeves above.

45. Fic specific questions - if you have any weird questions about specific works, here’s your shot to ask them!

I did them all! Nice questions.

#anon #*anon*#fic writer ask game #i will send these questions right back at you

20 notes · View notes

kayoticworld · 3 years

Text

Just like you...

Genshin Impact

WARNINGS: None?

Be nice, English is not my native language and this is basically just a little test to see if people like it. If yes, I'll upload more

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"Diluc! I'm not here to boss you around! I want to help! Why don't you get that?!"

A young woman with long purple hair stood in front of the tavern owner. Tears made her flaming pink eyes sparkling, but not a single drop had left them yet. She held back her emotions with all affordable strength, yet the air around that woman seemed to be charged with pure electric energy.

"And I told you, that I don't need any help. Why don't you get that, Akali?", he answered with his arms crossed.

Diluc was always distant, nevertheless she tried to be close to him. Ever since they were little, she tried her best, but now Akali wondered why she even tried.

"Fine."

No more words were spoken. She bit her lip, so there wouldn't be any words she'd regret. Only the bitter sweet taste of her own blood.

With all the strength left in her bones, Akali walked out of the room, her head up high and not looking back. Only so could she remain her dignity.

By all the Archons, she wished that he would shout after her, stop her, call her name, but he never did.

He never would. It just wasn't Diluc's way.

It's been years since they last saw each other. Many things had changed, but Diluc didn't. He remained as stubborn and cold as she left him.

Why couldn't he just accept her help?

Akali passed some guests of the tavern when she stormed out of the backroom. It was hard to keep her mind focused on all the anger and thoughts, when there was so much joy all round. All of the people were having lively conversations while hovering infront of their glasses.

She couldn't take the atmosphere right now. It made her sick.

All those noisy people engaged in their happy conversations, drinking expensive wine on wooden chairs in Dilucs tavern. What in earth was she thinking? That he'd change? That he'd accept help just this once?

His honor came before everything, even their friendship. Ugh! There are people's life on the line and Diluc kept on playing the hero who didn't need help, when he actually did.

Who else could he ask for help? Or maybe who else could she ask?

But just before Akali could leave the stuffy air of Diluc's tavern behind, the door opened and it was none other than her other childhood best friend.

"Kaeya?"

It didn't took her long to recognize him. He stood out by everything he wore, his eyepatch, the long dark blue hair and his eyes. They had the most beautiful icy color, Akali had ever seen and she had seen many.

But apparently not only she did recognize the one in front of her.

"Kali! What are you doing here? Having a glass of wine without me?", he grinned.

Of course he noticed the tears in her eyes, the way her face had turned all red when she was angry and the static in the air, but most importantly he noticed Diluc, who had just now returned to his spot behind the counter and was keeping an eye on them.

Something must have happened, it always did.

"I'm staying in Mondstadt for a few days and I thought I... visit someone.", she bitterly admitted.

"Well then, would you fancy having a drink together? Telling me about your adventures, perhaps? Or if you'd prefer, we could go somewhere else."

"No! No... It's okay. We can stay... I would gladly spend some time with you."

Under the strict eyes of the tavern owner the two of them sat down in a corner at the back of the establishment, away from all the noise, the bard's music and happenings.

Kaeya had aged really well, Akali thought to herself. He had indeed become very attractive. She even dared to think that he looked fancy.

Something about him had always been kind of exotic... Maybe that was why he stood out. But on her journey Akali had learned to sort of like the things that stood out.

"So tell me, what have you been doing all these years?", the blue haired asked.

"Traveled the world. I've just wanted to see as much as possible. I worked for different people, helped most of them too. And now I'm here for sometime. It's really not that special."

Kaeya leaned back in his chair. Blue eyes still focused on her silhouette.

The three of them, Akali, Diluc and him were childhood friends. They spend many years of training together. They were like family, one could have even said.

Together they had been through so much fun and trouble... Memories of better times, that layed way to long in the past.

For now Kaeya could only remember how much he wanted the little purple haired girl to be happy. Or maybe he always tried to make that happen.

A long time had passed since she left and now instead of the cute, friendly girl, that picked on him and made him laugh, a young, beautiful woman was sitting right next to him.

"I think it is very interesting indeed. You need to tell me more."

A grin formed on both their lips, as she looked up from the table and directly into his ice blue eyes.

"Well, I guess I can tell you some stories, but what about you? Are you a knight of the order? Or just..."

"Just what?"

"I don't know. Just independent, like others...", she said slightly teasingly, with a slick eye roll.

"I'm a knight. Cavalary Captain of the Knights of Favonius, to be exact."

"Wow, sounds like alot of responsibility."

"It is. Although the grandmaster took all the Cavalary and now there is none for me to captain.", he nodded with a soft simile on his lips.

"But tell me, for how long have you been in Mondstadt?"

A short silence settled in between the two. Not long enough to make it awkward, but also not short enough to go unnoticed.

It was a moment of thinking.

"I arrived two days ago. But-", Akali couldn't finish her explanation about how she wanted to go see him after some things were sorted out, as a waitress interrupted the talk.

"H-Hello, d-do you know what you'd like to order yet?", the woman asked nervously.

Kaeya knew her. Donna, a shy, mousy girl, although very friendly, but she had a crush on Diluc, for literally all the wrong reasons. Hm, not that that was something new.

"The usual, for the both of us this time.", he quickly responded.

"O-okay."

Quickly Donna left. Her cheeks had the color of wild raspberries by the moment she could finally leave their table and over her, one could only see Diluc's flaming red eyes darting towards the two, but none of them actually cared.

"So... the usual, huh?"

"Oh don't worry. It's called "Death by Afternoon", which is sparkling wine with three parts dandelion wine. You'll like it. Trust me."

Of course she trusted him.

They both shared a moment. Of course, Kaeya forgot that Kali didn't drink. Surprisingly enough that the usually confident woman didn't intervine.

"What about your non-drinking attitude?", he winked.

"Let's say that that changed over the years. I wouldn't want to be caught dead with a glass of grape juice in my hands, now would I?"

Of course she nagged Diluc over his favorite drink, just like Kaeya usually did.

"Some people are just unromantic."

They shared a laughter together, that felt like it had been the first time in forever. So that is what both of them missed.

"Maybe you're right. But I hope you didn't order anything bitter. You know, I'm not really into that."

"Don't worry. Death by afternoon is a Mondstadt speciality. Dandelion wine makes the bitterness of the sparkling wine disappear completely. You'll like it, I'm sure of that."

"Oh? Why is that?"

"You got good taste."

The adventure and the knight engaged in a lively talk about their work, their experiences and even their childhood.

It's been too many years since Akali had last visited Mondstadt. Everything seemed to be new, but from outside it nothing seemed to ever really change.

Diluc gave them another glare.

What else could he do? Kaeya was a charming as one could be and Akali was falling for it. He didn't mind it going on for an hour, at least Diluc tried to talk himself into thinking that, but the more they drank, the closer they got.

A little gesture here. A small touch there. They were friends, but this behavior annoyed him.

Usually he was the one, who had this... thing going on with the electric user. They had this sort of connection, where he didn't mind her being close to him. But her being close with Kaeya? It made him angry.

Was that... jealousy, he felt?

Quickly he shook his head, trying his best to keep a straight face.

"Wait! You really started that ruin guard just to prove your point?", Kali giggled.

"Well, let's just say, no one will ever question my authority again."

Fascinated by her beauty, Kaeya watched her laugh at his story. The feeling of a close friend from the past at his side... He couldn't even remember when he last felt that familiarity.

"That's enough."

Rough, like a hot wind hitting a wall of ice, Diluc stood in front of their table.

Theratingly he had his arms crossed infront of him.

The other two just shared a look of slight amusement.

"What have we done this time?"

"We pissed him off, that's what it is, Kaeya."

"You are both drunk."

Both laughed. They did drink some glasses, maybe one or two over their usual limit, but neither Kaeya nor Akali were drunk.

"No, we're not.", the knight wanted to explain, but he got interrupted by his friend.

"Seems like we're not welcome here anymore, Kaeya. Let's pay and go somewhere else. Maybe somewhere where we are more welcome."

Diluc instantly tried to correct this statement, but he couldn't go on about is explanation.

"That's not what I meant."

"You never mean anything, Diluc. See ya."

Kali grabbed her companion's upper arm and dragged him out of the tavern, but not without giving Diluc a last sarcastic wave.

Other guests noticed the scene, but most of them didn't. A great part of the customers had already left, that is how late it had gotten.

Cursing Kaeya, himself and even Akali in his head Diluc had watched them leave in silence.

He scoffed.

Well, he ruined it. Great. Was that the only thing he managed to do?

38 notes · View notes

sykuui · 4 years

Text

glint | kuroo tetsurou

Kuroo x gn!reader

Genre: angsty. very angsty.

Warnings: none!

Saturday 12:16p.m.

“Take two, tetsu!” You crouched on the dusty floor, holding your stomach from laughing so hard, surrounded by empty cardboard boxes.

You pulled yourself off the ground, the sweat making your tshirt stick to your back. Dust from the surroundings making your skin feel dry. However, the discomort was nullified by the presence of the tall, bed headed boy standing in the middle of the room. You and kuroo were finally moving in together after 2 years of dating.

He looked at you with one brow raised, amused at the sight. “This is the fifth time you’re making me do this.” He rolled his eyes, a mischievous smirk played on his lips. Getting back on your feet, you tiptoed towards him, sliding your hands into his hair.

“Come on. One last time.” You whispered putting your forehead against his. The sweat and grime creating a mingling tickle.

Hands wrapped around your waist. A short release of breath was felt on your lips, sending tingles down your spine.

“One. More. Time.”

Breathing a sigh of content, you lifted your eyes to meet his, a grin threatening to break out. God, the things this boy did to you.

“Tetsu..” you started. “What do you see when u look into my eyes?”

Kuroo chuckled, his eyes glinting in that special way that made your blood pressure drop. The grip on his shoulders tightened as you steadied yourself.

He looked into your eyes like he was staring directly into your soul. You, like an open book, with chapters upon chapters of writing and endless thoughts with your conciousness being the only thing binding them together. And kuroo, the one who reads you, studies you like the most complex yet delicate being known to humankind, with a catlike grace and elegance as if he might shatter you like with the slightest touch like the wing of a butterfly.

You two were like the sun to each other’s moon. Yin and Yang. One completing the other. Nothing could ever, and will ever, get between the two of you. At least that’s what you hoped.

•••••••••

Monday 6:59a.m. 3 years later

The blaring of your alarm clock woke you. Groaning in your still half asleep state, you throw a hand out to the right side of the bed, expecting a warm chest or back to meet it, but to no avail.

Your arm lands onto the cold sheets next to you. Eyebrows furrying at the lack of of your boyfriend on the bed you both shared.

He must’ve woken up early. Did he say he had his practice earlier than usual? You couldn’t recall.

But it was a Sunday, there was no practice on sundays. You shake your head out of annoyance. Memory was never your strongest suit.

Slipping out of bed, you head to the bathroom to clean yourself up.

The person staring back at you in the mirror looked different.

“Were my eye bags this bad?” Pulling slightly at the thin skin under your eyes. Dark circles evident on your usually even toned skin.

Kuroo had developed a habit of going out with his friends recently and you, being the worrywart that you are, would stay up till odd hours of the night waiting for your beloved to return.

At first he would be back by 11pm, but as the months progressed, so did the time he came back home. You tried not to let it bother you. Why should it? You loved and trusted him and you knew that he was capable of taking care of himself. But was his safety concerning you? Or was it perhaps..

The sound of running water paused your train of thought as you splashed cool water onto your face. You couldn’t bring yourself to ever talk about it with him. Something would always come up whenever you both found time for yourselves.

“Sorry, my friends and I planned to meet up.”

“Not today, sweetie. I’m taking some extra time with the team. I’ll be back soon.”

“I’m at kenma’s house. Wont be back till late.”

Every line followed by a chaste kiss to your forehead and a wave of goodbye while you stood there, eyes cast down with a meek smile on your face. You’ve pretty much heard every excuse in the book. So there was no reason as to why you couldn’t just confront him about it.

Wiping your hands on the towel, you stepped out of the bathroom and exited your shared room.

“Tetsu?” You called out into the halls.

No answer.

“Tetsu baby, are you home?” Maneuvering past the furniture and into the kitchen, your eyes searched the house. Empty.

He hasn’t come back.

You feel the same gripping feeling creep its way into your stomach, twisting your intestines into knots.

“Where are you?”

There’s one person who knows where he’d be if it wasn’t you. Kozume Kenma.

You pulled your phone out of the pocket of your shorts. A slight tremor in your hands as you unlocked it.

The line ringed thrice before a soft voice was heard. “Hello?” A sleepy voice spoke.

“Kenma! Im so sorry to wake you up like this but do you have any idea where kuroo is?”

“K-kuroo?” His voice’s tone much louder than before.

“Yes..” your fingers tapped anxiously against the back of your phone, awaiting a response.

A few moments of silence passed.

“Uhh I think he crashed at Lev’s place. Why? Did he not come home last night?”

“He didn’t. I’m sorry. I didn’t know who else to call so-“

“No, no. Please, don’t apologize. I’m always here to help.” Kenma cut you off. “It’s what friends are for.”

A sense of relief washed through you at his words. “Yes. You’re right. Thank you, by the way.”

“Anytime.”

You ended the call and grabbed your keys from the basket near the shoe rack.

Everything is ok. He’s probably just got drunk and stayed over at one of the boys’ house. Nothing to worry about, you affirmed to yourself.

Lev’s house was about a block away so it took you not more than a couple minutes to arrive.

You parked the car on the curb just outside of the house and pulled the keys out of the ignition.

You stayed glued to your seat for a minute, fingers drumming against the steering wheel.

“You can do this.”

A click of the car door was heard followed by the sound of your shoes against the asphalt.

Nervously biting your lip, you press the doorbell.

No answer.

You weren’t about to spend the next who knows how long waiting for one of them to open the door, so you gently push down on the knob. It’s open.

You stumbled inside, almost tripping over a pair of heels that were messily thrown right in front of the door.

A familiar pair of shoes lays near them. Also messily thrown around.

Kuroo’s shoes.

It’s Alisa’s shoes. It has to be. But doesnt Lev live alone?

Your heart started to race as you tried to convince yourself that it was nothing to be concerned about. Taking a deep breath, you decided enough was enough and that you were going to have to talk to kuroo about this.

You wandered further into the house, in search of your boyfriend, carefully avoiding the spilled juice in front of you.

The place was a mess. Beer cans and fast food packages littered the floor and tables. Broken glass and used napkins too. A party of some sort must’ve taken place. Surely no person can live like this.

After a couple minutes of looking around, you saw kuroo’s jacket hung on one of the chairs.

He’s here.

“Te-“

“That’s enough kuroo!” A female giggle resonated through the halls. You froze.

No. No it can’t be. You’re hearing things, the stress of the situation is just messing with you.

“Tetsu!” The female voice chimed again.

Tetsu.. that was the nickname you gave to him. The name that only you, were allowed to call him by. The name you gave him when you both had first met all those years ago. So who...

A breath escaped your lips, a burning feeling developing in your throat. The sound came from the room right across you.

Your mind now clouded with adrenaline.

Loud footsteps were heard as you speed walked towards the source of the sound. You didn’t care anymore. You just wanted your boyfriend back.

Your hand met the cool wood of the door and stopped. Eyes stinging from the tears. It’s now or never.

Pushing the door wide open, your breath caught in your throat at the scene in front of you.

Kuroo was on top of another girl. She was a giggling mess and he was no different. Their backs were turned to you.

They didn’t even notice you.

He didn’t even notice you.

Your emotions came crashing down like a tsunami as you stood there in silent pain. Watching the love of your life, with another girl.

A loud sob escaped past your lips. Slapping a hand over your mouth, you crumpled onto the floor on your knees.

“Y/N!”

Your eyes slowly lifted themselves up to meet his.

“How long... how long have you been..” It hurt. It hurt so bad that you couldn’t even finish what you wanted to say. What emotion were you even feeling? Anger? Sadness? In that moment, You felt everything and nothing at the same time. You lifted up your hand. The one which had the engagement ring on it. His promise to you. Did it mean nothing to him?

“No- it’s not what-“

“No, Kuroo. Don’t say anything.” you cut him off.

“How about you do one last thing for me, yeah?” Tears streamed down your face and onto the floor. Blurring your vision ever so slightly.

“Baby please-“ he started.

“No. No don’t.. don’t call me that, ok?” Forcing a smile onto your face, you gestured for him to sit down in front of you.

His mouth opened like he was about to say something, but he stopped and obeyed.

“Okay..” you wiped the tears from your eyes, not that it helped in any way.

Placing a hand under his chin, you tilted his head to the side. Hickies covered the nape of his neck down to his collarbone. Taking a sharp inhale, you let go.

“You don’t have to do this y/n. Just let me explain.” He grabbed both of your hands with his. The familiar feeling of his warm hands felt like home to you. He felt like home to you.

“Kuroo please. Just stay quiet.”

Silence.

“Tetsu.. what do you see when you look into my eyes?”

“No, not right now not this.” He pulled you into his chest, arms coming in contact with your back. “Y/N please just listen to me.”

Breaking out of his hold you hold his arms in place.

“Kuroo. Im begging you. Do it for me. One last time.” Sobs escaping your lips. “One. More. Time.”

Your searched for that familiar glint. The one that would appear every time you asked him this question. It never mattered how many times, the glint and the look of pure love in his eyes kept you alive. It was your energy source and you needed it. You needed him.

His eyes stared into yours, but not the way that they used to, the love, the admiration, everything that kept you going... was gone.

And at that moment you knew, that you were fighting a losing battle.

It was time to let go.

A/N: ahhh ok this is my first ever haikyuu short fic! I hope you liked it (｀・ω・´) constructive criticism is always welcome and pls feel free to leave any comments!

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu kuroo #nekoma #kuroo #kuroo tetsurou #kenma #kozume kenma #haikyuu lev #lev #haiba lev #kuroo imagine

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goldenkamuyhunting · 3 years

Note

Is Ogata a virgin?

To be honest...

I’m probably not the right person to ask this as I genuinely don’t have the slightest idea about it and I’m not really interested in this.

You see, those were different times from now.

While Japan had different ideas than the west about purity, marriage and so on, from what I know folk girls at the time wouldn’t really be willing to sleep around with boys easily, unless they planned to marry said boy and move to live with him (Meiji era is a time of changes though, so cut me some slack on this as I might be anticipating a bit a mentality that will develop in the future).

To make it simple, Harumi Chiyo (or Igogusa if you prefer) might have slept with Tsukishima prior to him leaving for war because Tsukishima made clear he wanted to marry her once he were back and she might have believed him so, if she were to remain pregnant no harm would be done as they would get married anyway.

On the other side it’s more unlikely Kakizaki Umeko slept with Sugimoto even though she equally loved him, as they apparently weren’t engaged, even though they were childhood sweethearts... while if she had lived in present times she would have been more willing to spend a night with the boy she liked even if they weren’t talking about getting married.

I genuinely doubt Ogata was/is in a serious relationship with a girl, so it’s strongly unlikely he got to sleep with someone for free.

Of course the typical male method in all the centuries and in almost all the countries (if not in all of them) to lose their virginity was to sleep with a prostitute, and it was especially popular among soldiers, even more when they were at war... which is something I don’t really consider praiseworthy.

Girls were often forced into the profession by misery or by being sold (or even kidnapped as they attempted to do with Asirpa), and taking advantage of their conditions has been something men had done for centuries and that really doesn’t make them that special in my eyes, just because in this way they managed to get rid of their virginity.

Maybe it’s just me.

Now... feel free to correct me if I’m wrong but I think this question was spurred by the Q&A section in the fanbook and more specifically by this bit.

Q18: “The scene in which Ogata tries to corrupt Yuusaku by taking him to a brothel and telling him that brothers are supposed to do bad things together was very sexy and impactful. Does it mean that Ogata frequented brothels, and has the appropriate experience?”

Noda: “He just pretended that he knows what he’s doing.” (Translation courtesy of @piduai)

To be honest the asker never mentions brothels but the "red light district” (遊郭 ‘yūkaku’ lit: “play quarters” but it was generally used in the sense of “pleasure quarters”) however he/she is clearly referring to Ogata’s visit to a specific place (and the image that goes with that ask in the fanbook is the one above just to visually help who didn’t remember about it).

(If someone is wondering “experience” is just ‘Keiken’ (経験) which means, well, “experience” in general)

Now... there’s a huge chance no soldier of Ogata’s rank or lower got a chance to have experience in such a place.

The price from prostitutes varies and the troops didn’t get much money.

The prostitutes working in the slums of Sapporo were probably the cheapest choice as they seemed to work directly on the streets and it was their customer who had to provide a place in which to go, if he wanted to do it somewhere more comfortable... and as you can see in the manga some still had to turn down the chance to spend time with them for a lack of money.

We know Otaru is packed with brothels (私娼窟 ‘shishōkutsu’), disguised as Soba shops.

The ones working for the pimp Sugimoto and Shiraishi interacted with are possibly a bit more expensive than them as they supposedly had a place in which to handle their trade, but as Shiraishi points out they’re ugly and their place is likely modest.

We then move to the brothel in which Ushiyama goes the first time.

It’s likely a bit better as his girl seems prettier and the owner will later brag they’ve the best girls and the best soba.

Sugimoto can afford the soba but the girls would likely cost more. Still maybe he could afford them. We’ll see though how they aren’t there to serve him or something.

Still the girl working there is definitely prettier than the previous, so I’ll say she should be more expensive than the ones with the pimp.

And then we move to the high class places.

We don’t get to see the inside but the girls seems even prettier and by the look of it pretty expensive. Ushiyama likely moved there because Hijikata and Nagakura are now economically supporting him.

Shiraishi (and Ishikawa too) will start visiting expensive brothels as well once Hijikata will start founding them.

The structure of this place is more like the one in which Yuusaku and Ogata went... but the girls are back on not being pretty...

To climb up to this very pretty Oiran.

Oiran (花魁) was a specific category of high ranking courtesan in Japanese history. Divided into a number of ranks within this category, oiran were considered – both in social terms and in the entertainment they provided – to be above common prostitutes, known as yūjo (遊女) (lit. 'woman of pleasure'). Though oiran by definition also engaged in prostitution, they were distinguished by their skills in the traditional arts, with the highest ranking oiran having a degree of choice in which customers they took.

Now... maybe the ladies with Ogata and Yuusaku aren’t the most expensive in the market, but they’re clearly in an upperclass place with 3 beautiful ladies, drinking sake.

I bet this is much more than Ogata’s salary allowed him and the patron for such visit is Tsurumi. Ogata though couldn’t take Yuusaku to a lesser, more economical place, as the point is to tempt an upper class boy like he is, so beautiful women and an elegant place are a must.

Long story short, while Ogata might have had sex with a prostitute... in that situation he’s clearly blind flying as it’s highly unlikely he could allow himself to do so much as drink in such a place, even less to have the girls.

To me it looks like a place for officers, with girls who are even taking care to be discreet, the perfect place to tempt an upper class official like Yuusaku, not a place for superior privates or common soldiers to spend their money regularly.

So, back to the question, did Noda refer solely to prostitutes in places like this, or to prostitutes in general?

No idea.

It can entirely be Ogata didn’t feel like having sex with a prostitute, as not only the affordable ones are ugly, but he might live it as a call back to his mother’s situation.

Although Ogata Tome was a geisha and not a common prostitute, Ogata has likely heard her being accused to be as such many times and the thing might have left a mark.

He’s not utterly repulsed by them, as, once Yuusaku is gone, he let one of them to keep hanging with him and touch him...

...even though he clearly was expecting Tsurumi and couldn’t do much else (especially since the whole thing was a fiasco and it’s unlikely Tsurumi would apprecciate Ogata getting fun from it).

So again, no idea.

It’s not surprising Ogata had no experience with that type of brothels and girls.

He might have had experience with much cheaper prostitutes but if he had or not is not really that interesting to me and not having it might even make sense considering his upbringing as the illegittimate son of a woman accused to sell her body.

He might not want to cause the birth of other children who’re in his place, nor he might feel comfortable with the idea of paying someone for sex.

A common joke among me and some of my friends is that Ogata’s only love is his rifle and, at most, he might fall for the girls of “Girls' frontline“ as they’re weapons’ personifications but, of course, this is just a joke.

So sorry, but I really don’t have an idea if he had sex previously or not. He seems to at least know how men are when they have sex...

...but again it could be a reference to how his father acted so... no idea.

Sorry if I wasn’t really helpful and thank you for your ask!

#Ogata Hyakunosuke #Ask #Ogata Tome #Harumi Chiyo #Tsukishima Hajime #Sugimoto Saichi #Kenmochi Umeko #Hanazawa Yuusaku

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yentotajaan · 3 years

Text

Repercussions V: Recap

Yen’to frowned as he stared at the messy stack of papers on his desk. They contained various notes and information on all the messes that had cropped ever since the cursed day he ran into Khan and took that damned castrum scouting job. The previous few moons had seen no let up on the pressure against the Shroudrose staff by Garlean forces, sent directly by Tribunus Lucian or otherwise.

Kaia’s Regret

It seemed like forever ago, when Yen’to and a small group set out with Kaia to rescue her family from anti-monk brigands known as the Corpse Brigade. They had set out towards a remote part of Gyr Abania, expecting relatively light resistance. With the help of Leth’s magitek devices, they soon bypassed the defenses and infiltrated the village.

Kaia’s family had trained as monks and were formidable fighters, but the Corpse Brigade also had specialized training that countered much of the monks’ advantages. The clan had been defeated and was being held prisoner, but Kaia and the group were able to make fairly short work of the brigands, who did not expect to be fighting against heavy armor and weapons. Her brother was freed, who informed them that Kaia’s mother was being held in a nearby cave.

There were many more brigands within the cave, and were all almost defeated until the leader took Kaia’s mother hostage. Even in such a dire situation, her mother made time to berate Kaia for picking up the way of the bow instead of the way of the monk. Kaia attempted to argue back, that her way was just as strong, but unfortunately they were unable to save her before she was unceremoniously executed. However, they did manage to rescue many of the villagers alongside her brother who would become head of the clan.

Strega’s Lament

Not long afterwards, the end of a tea service was rudely interrupted by a so-called hyper-tuned soldier - beings mechanically augmented by Garlean magitek and were more machine than person. He blamed Strega for what the Garleans had turned him into, and warned that his brethren would come to kill Strega messily and violently. They cursed her and her former Garlean allies for making them unable to feel anything but pain and despair. Strega and Alyona worked all night to come up with a convoluted scheme to piss off the conjurer’s guild so they would detain Strega within their walls.

Somehow the plan worked. The hyper-tuned set off a nearby distraction to draw off conjurers and Wood Wailers before turning their attention to Strega and the rest. It was a hard fought battle, but the hyper-tuned had spread themselves out in an effort to maintain the distraction and tried to attack Strega and the group one at a time. They were nearly overwhelmed when two engaged them together, but they somehow overcame the odds to overcome them all.

Strega had wished the hyper-tuned subdued rather than killed, with the aim of having the Conjurer’s Guild heal both their bodies and minds. In the end, one was inadvertently killed but the others were handed over in custody with the hopes that their pain and suffering would be eased, and that they could eventually recover. Only time would tell if that would be true.

Silf’s Hunt

It was an odd request, but no one really questioned it when a messenger came and informed them that Silf had invited them along for one her hunts. They headed out to the East Shroud, finding a very confused Silf who had no idea what was going on. It was then that the deranged Ala Mhigan hunters with bestial race’s heads as helmets launched their ambush. The very same ones who nearly killed them when they were interrogating a Garlean prisoner so many moons ago. They were Tribunus Lucian’s figurative attack dogs, although he also had literal ones.

The hunters used the ponds and trees to their advantage and strike nearly unseen, but Silf knew the terrain even better. With her guidance, the group managed to avoid detection long enough after escaping to turn the tables and launch an ambush of their own. The hunters had assaulted a nearby camp of Wood Wailers in their search, and Silf’s band used the distraction to flank the hunters and attack.

One of the hunters remained, wearing a Hrothgar head as a helmet, amidst a pile of Wood Wailer bodies, and challenged the entire group to a duel while screaming about “the wrath of the Hawk’s Talons.” The false Hrothgar proved to be a challenging adversary, surviving multiple wounds and retaliating with aero based attacks. In the end, Silf was able to finish him off through cunning - slitting his throat in a surprise maneuver.

Alyona’s Past(s)

The strange pink haired miqo’te had an even stranger past. One night, the group was informed by Sergeant Baxter that a Garlean prisoner, named Octavius, demanded a dinner with Alyona and her friends before he would reveal his secrets to his Ala Mhigan captors. It felt like that meeting with the Maelstrom prisoner all over again, where everything quickly went horribly wrong. But they seemed to have little real choice, since the information promised by the Garlean would save lives and no other interrogation technique had gotten him to loosen his lips.

The dinner was bland, but the conversation was particularly enlightening. Octavius seemed to know Alyona better than she knew herself. He had revealed that she had been many things before: a teacher, an orphan, a drunkard, a ditz, and most importantly of all - an Ala Mhigan agent named Mockingbird. In the course of her work she nearly killed Octavius and rescued an indoctrinated Ala Mhigan named Ragnald. She was forced to leave Ragnald for dead after a later attack, and he was subsequently captured by the Empire for “re-education”.

Having gained all the information they needed, Sergeant Baxter led them to the war front near Ghimlyt Dark where they were expected to run into Ragnald’s squad in the course of capturing a castrum for Alliance staging operations into Garlean territory. The battle was brutal and bloody, with many on both sides falling in the fray - including Sergeant Baxter. Ragnald was eventually found and recovered, Alyona having managed to bring back the memories of his past life. General Raubahn came in at the last moment with reinforcements and drove back the remaining Garleans, allowing the group to retreat and recover.

A Sign of Things to Come

(Text taken from a post by Khuron Khan, credit is not mine)

In a linkshell conversation that jogs Yen’to out of his reverie...

"....Does this involve Allagans?"

"No."

"....Does this involve the Empire?"

"...No?"

"...Does this involve anything spooky or traumatizing?"

"By Gods, lad- this is a simple naval reconnaissance job. This is what yer 'Teahouse' does under'dae table, aye? We'll pay upfront, you are ju-"

"WE'RE IN!"

Khan placed down the linkshell with a shit-eating grin, slouching back as he rested the back of his head against his hands. "Oi! Lu Bu! Let Faye know we have an easy job'fer once!" The tiny Kobold saluted before scampering away to the hallway. "Ah- why am I such a fookin' genius?"

Somewhere in the seas...

"Plonker took'dae job, Cap!" the Pirate barked out, nodding to her Captain. The Moonkeeper bit down her apple, crunching it down as she stacked her legs on top of the table, leaning back with a satisfied grin.

"Did they now? Aye- get the other crews ready and in position..." The Keeper stared down the horizon of the sea- gazing at the skyline of Limsa Lominsa. "And prepare the gaols- it's been sometime since I've met the half-breed; mayhap we should make the reunion at least comforting. Eh- a pillow, blanket, and a bucket should be fine until we can deliver him to'dae client" the Keeper's grin widened as her underling did a quick salute before running off to the corridors.

"Yen’to, Yen’to..." the Keeper stretched with a sigh before prepping her ammunitions for her flintlock. "Who the hell did you piss off to make me this rich?"

@moonglowk

@silvernsteel

@tough-bit-of-fluff

https://yentotajaan.tumblr.com/post/637233213295722496/repercussions-iv-a-friendly-chat

#ffxiv #rp #balmung #Khaaaaaan

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vampiresuns · 3 years

Text

Day 1: Hometown

This is the masterpost for @arcana-echoes‘s first prompt Hometown, and it provides further insight besides the fics for the Trio I’ve posted.

Remember you can always read more about the Radošević-Cassano in this post, with their family tree.

Anatole | Letter To The Boy I Was, From The Man I Became, About The Love He Will Find

Anatole wasn’t primarily raised in Vesuvia, but in Bgraz, the second biggest city in the Democratic Federation of Balkovia, and the capital of its Federative district. He was born at dawn, at 5:47 am, the first day of November, during the first year of the Balkovian Wars. Balkovia is modelled after Yugoslavian territories, and Bgraz after Zagreb. This is because Anatole is a Latine-Slav, like me. Therefore, while it’s not an exact comparison, the Balkovian wars are modelled after the Former Yugoslavian wars, with everything they entailed, which I do not need to go into detail. This comes directly from my identity and the way I engage with it.

Anatole used to live in a two stories flat in one of the more well-off, yet still central parts of the city with his parents — Vladislav, or Vlad for short (Valerius’ older brother) — and Louisa, his mother, who is coded as a Chilean expat.

The war on itself didn’t occur in Bgraz for the most part, except for one retaliation incident which made the family go to Vesuvia for a short while, though not immediately, as Anatole’s mother, Louisa, is a doctor and volunteered as a doctor during the war, to help civilians targeted during it, so after the attack on the city and her volunteering, they retreated to Vesuvia as a way to take a break, along with other members of the family, like Mircea, Anatole’s grandfather, who is married to a Vesuvian man, called Florentino Cassano.

Anatole’s first memory after the war is his parents wedding, as they had decided to get married after the war was over. He spent his early childhood bouncing and learning, between his parents flat, his grandparents home — an old house on some hills in the city, which had a big tree over it’s back door. It was Anatole’s favourite hanging spot, specially because he got to “surprise” his uncle Valeriy (Valerius), as he used to meet with his boyfriends with that door. Not because he wasn’t allowed to or anything, he’s just dramatic.

The love Anatole has for his home town is completely different than the love he has for Vesuvia. Vesuvia, one of his thirds, always occupied a place of wonder to him, when he was little, he used to say (decree) he would find a job that would allow him to live half the year in Balkovia, half in Vesuvia. However, two things happened: number one, Anatole, as a person, is a meeting point for three different cultural identities which makes him stand out without meaning to. If you consider what I’ve already said about Balkovia, the underlying and not so underlying tensions in it was something Anatole noticed very young, and it positioned him in certain ways towards his identity. While the Radošević are not directly linked to politics, and prefer majorly technical positions rather than political offices, they are heavily influenced by Anatole’s great grandmother, Elysian Radošević who used to be heavily involved with leftist partisans.

On top of that, Anatole is a Cassano. The Cassano, while being a Vesuvian High Family, have a very distinctive pro-city, pro-people outlook at life, and during Anatole’s upbringing, two of his close relatives, his great grandfather Iovanus, and his Uncle Valeriy, where Consuls of Vesuvia, neither of them having, politically speaking, the best relationship with the Countship, specially Iovanus. The saying about the Cassano is that they’re the last thing that will stand between the City and that which seeks to harm it, many og them occupying political offices which directly dealt with welfare and social security, which also deeply affected Anatole.

Lastly, Anatole is latine, an identity he relates to through music — a lot of it protest music, folklorical new song or party music, which is what his mother listened to — and his mother’s personal history. Louisa is a woman who left her home country because she was sent away to study medicine by her parents because of her political views, which opposed the Dictatorship which her country was going through.

All of this has made him look at his own identity and his own home spaces, as a constant in between. This feeling of in-betweeness and sometimes diaspora (from where? From what? From whom?) was exacerbated when he began being privately tutored from the age 14 and on, as this included travelling around different parts of the world throughout most of the year. He travelled with his cousins, Amparo and Milenko, but they didn’t always travelled together, since their academic curriculums didn’t always align. At this time, he began spending half his summers in Vesuvia, half in Balkovia — where he also spent other education breaks, if the travelling schedule allowed it. His parents ended up visiting more, than he ended up going back to Balkovia.

This, and all the time he spent with his two Vesuvian-raised cousins made him start feeling more familiar with Vesuvia than Balkovia altogether.

When he was 17, he decided to follow the Cassano footsteps into Vesuvian politics. The rest is history.

Amparo | The Thousand Lives of Amparo Cassano

Amparo is the only daughter of Cassiopeia Cassano and Iris Ravella-Cassano. Cassiopea a Vesuvian politician and diplomat — she was the one originally intended to inherit the Consul’s office, not Valerius, but she stepped down out of having troubles with Valerius’ mother, Matilda (Vlad and Val weren’t raised by their parents, but by their uncles Mircea and Florentino), preferring to keep a minor office, and not ending up estranging herself from her family by virtue of arguing with her older cousin. On the other side, Iris was the youngest child of another prominent Vesuvian family, who did not wish to either follow the family trade or marry someone their family approved.

Amparo was raised in the Palazzo the Cassano inhabit, in the Heart District of Vesuvia.

Amparo as a kid was somehow rambunctious and well behaved, at the same time. She was curious and energetic, but she was also liked or tried to pay attention to what was happening around her, often making it a great source of inspiration.

Vesuvia, her hometown, ended up being the greatest inspiration of them all. She lived there until she was 15, when she began being privately tutored and toured around different prominent theatres for the sake of seasonal apprenticeships, which she did with Anatole and Milenko, when their schedules collided. As I’ve already mentioned they all prepared for different things, therefore their itineraries weren’t always the same. She was the one less affected by the travelling on itself, while it changed her, Amparo saw it as a necessary, character building step — as a way to cope and process changes, she made dancing performances in her own room, which she sometimes showed to her cousins. Through movement and stories she found catharsis, in a different way than Milenko: what she sought in these stories was the trace of evidence in them.

Imagine, she would think, all the stories she had to contribute to Vesuvia when she came back. Her relationship with her hometown is a discursive one: she acts, and when she acts for it, she lives a thousand lives which may touch upon others and by doing that, she changes her own.

Milenko | Baby, It’s A Wild World

Milenko, Anatole’s second cousin, was raised, primarily in Vesuvia. His grandfather Blasio and his spouse Ilnya Radošević lived in both Balkovia and Vesuvia on and off, until Ilnya was permanently offered a position as a palace scientist. Blasio is a composer and dramaturg, which is something he could do in both places. Ilnya died rather young, when them and Blasio’s children, Atanasie and Violeta, had a couple of years of age, and the Cassano offered to take them in.

The Cassano and the Radošević see their family cores as one single family, despite many of them are not being actually related, which comes from some of them having been friends before two of their branches married between families. So them being of the mentality of ‘something happens to one of us and it happens to all of us’, they offered to take them in while Blasio got back on his feet.

In the end, Blasio never fully left Vesuvia, taking it as a seat and becoming a notable dramaturg, lyricist and composer in Goldgrave. Blasio still visited his federative quarter of Balkovia (Blasio is coded to be Bosnian) with frequency, mostly to see his parents and his siblings, or those Radošević who were more rarely seen in Vesuvia. The visits stopped when the war in Balkovia began, except for one visit, and after that, while Violeta and Aurora, her wife, continued to visit with some frequency, it was more of a vacation thing than a permanent settling.

Milenko had the inverse process of Anatole about the Vesuvia-Balkovia relationship. For him it is a blend of places, which is impossible to describe and his in-betweeness is simply another item on the list. He asks less what does it mean to be and more what beauty can be taken from it. Both places are intertwined in his imagination, and often run more parallel, blending and reforming, and collapsing and rebuilding over and over again. Everything is, and it sure is a lot — Vesuvia is multicultural, chaotic, sometimes overcrowded, and has been through so much. It’s people are positively feral, and maybe that’s why Milenko thinks of home, and thinks of it as one amalgamation of things: because the energy of these two places, while different in species, belongs to the same genre.

One day, he’ll say about his hometown that when magic dies, Vesuvia will be the last place it will keep on living, completely unaware it will become the type of quote you see on pinterest all the time.

It’s why he came back to Vesuvia after his education related travels were done. While he lived in Venterre for some time, spent a questionable season in Nopal, and had to flee Macawi once, that “itness” as he calls it, is somewhere he’s only found in the sea of Balkovia and the streets of Vesuvia.

#arcana echoes #the arcana #the arcana oc #the arcana mc #milenko #amparo cassano #aelius anatole #echoes of the past: amparo #echoes of the past: milenko #echoes of the past: anatole

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sagemoderocklee · 4 years

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Prompt list 2, #11 for gaalee!

okay, it’s been ages since i reblogged whatever that prompt list was and i don’t remember what it was and i was only able to find one list of prompts and tbh, i had so much fun writing Gaara drunk for Kado that i’m just gonna roll with the prompt I found because i need a warm-up writing exercise to get me movin today. this is kind of aimless and rambling and not really anything special fyi.

based on the prompt it’s probably obvious, but tw for discussions of alcohol use (past, not shown) and also for insensitive jokes surrounding drunken sex (there wasn’t actually any but kankurou can be an asshole)

things you said when you were drunk

Gaara groaned, rolling over and directly into another body. It was a well-muscled body, because it felt like Gaara had rolled directly into a wall. His mouth tasted foul. Worse than foul. Was there a word for that? He didn’t know, and his brain wasn’t offering up any stronger alternatives at the present moment because it was head was pounding as though someone had taken a sledgehammer to it.

He forced his eyes open, lifting his head to stare at the prone figure at his side.

“Oh no,” he groaned. What happened? Had he really gotten so trashed at his sister’s wedding that he’d taken a stranger up to his room and--

“Good morning!” The stranger was awake. And very loud.

Gaara groaned in protest, pulling his pillow over his head.

“I am so sorry,” the man dropped his voice. Barely. “Would you like me to order some room service?”

Gaara shook his head beneath the pillow. What he wanted was for his drunken mistake to go away. Far away.

“I am sorry, I could not hear you. What was that?”

“Please,” Gaara begged, voice cracking. “Please, don’t talk. Just... shhhh.”

The man gave a quiet little ‘ah’ of understanding, rising from the bed and shuffling around the room. Gaara changed lifting the pillow up to look at the stranger, who was busy putting a shirt on. Gaara’s face flushed.

“Do you--do you know what happened last night?” he finally asked. He shifted, rising from the bed in a hunched fashion, blankets falling to reveal his rumbled suit.

“Of course! You got very, very drunk and uh, well...” The man flushed, his odd, boyish face turning bright red. He coughed. “You said some.... things. I promise, nothing happened.”

“Then... why are you in my room?”

The man laughed, as loud as he talked. “We are in my room. You were too drunk to tell me what room was yours, and I could not find any of your friends or family to help me. I did not want to leave you all by yourself in your state, but I promise, I was a perfect gentleman.”

His rescuer struck a pose, the most dramatic thumb’s up Gaara had ever seen, and smiled with all his teeth.

“Are you sure you do not want me to order some room service? I have it on good authority that the free coffee is not particularly good, and I am sure you could use a pick me up.”

Gaara’s stomach turned over. He smacked his lips, his mouth as dry as a desert. Finally, he relented. “I could use some coffee.”

“Perfect! Here.” A menu was thrust into his face, the words blurring for a second. “I was going to order breakfast, too. Feel free to pick out whatever you want.”

“Um... I don’t wanna put you to anymore trouble,” Gaara hedged, though he couldn’t deny he was hungry.

“Nonsense! If it was any trouble, I would not have offered.”

“I can pay you back--”

“Please, think nothing of it.” The man disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind him, leaving Gaara to look over the menu and wonder about the finer details of the night before.

He could remember the first toast and the second toast clearly, but by the third his memory was fuzzy. He’d always been a lightweight, but he was usually more careful about how much he drank, knowing full well the limits of his tolerance.

The man returned from the bathroom, smiling as though he hadn’t spent the night before partying. How could he be so chipper first thing in the morning?

“Did you decide on what you wanted?”

“I’ll just have a plain omelette.” That should hopefully be gentle on his roiling stomach. “And a coffee. Black with sugar.”

“That sounds like the perfect thing to perk you up!”

Gaara didn’t want to ask, but he had to know. “What exactly happened last night? I mean, I know nothing--nothing happened between us, but I don’t remember even meeting you.”

The man’s expression was caught between open embarrassment and dejection. “Ah, I should have realized you would not remember that. I think you were already quite drunk by the time Naruto-kun introduced us.”

“Naruto? So then you were one of Shikamaru’s guests?” He’d had to assume, given that no one else was in the room with them that this stranger hadn’t been anyone’s plus one. And he certainly didn’t seem like the sort of person his sister would associate with.

“Indeed, I was! Shikamaru-kun and Naruto-kun are very dear friends of mine, and I was overjoyed to hear about Shikamaru-kun’s engagement to Temari-san! She is your sister, right?”

“Um, yeah. How come I’ve never met you before the wedding?”

“I live abroad! I work in the film industry, so I am always traveling back and forth between LA and Japan. Of course, when I got the invitation, I was worried I would not be able to make it, but thankfully, my schedule opened up and here I am!”

Gaara had to wonder if everyone in LA was this upbeat and earnest.

“And can I ask your name?” An embarrassed flush crept up the back of Gaara’s neck, mixed with the guilt of having forgotten everything about the man.

“Rock Lee!” Again, the man gave a thumb’s up, the dramatic flair perfectly suited to a career in film, Gaara thought dryly.

“Rock Lee. Well, Rock Lee, I appreciate you taking care of me last night. I hope I wasn’t too much trouble.”

The embarrassed flush from before returned to Rock Lee’s incredibly expressive face, a dead giveaway that he was leaving out some very important details. He laughed nervously, waving his hands. “N-no! You were no trouble at all, Gaara-san! Just a little too drunk to be left alone!”

“What are you not telling me?” Gaara asked, but Rock Lee had already picked up the phone and dialed room service. Gaara narrowed his eyes. He couldn’t avoid the conversation forever. Gaara was still in his room, after all.

Once their breakfast order had been placed, Rock Lee offered to let Gaara shower while they waited, a clear sign that he was trying to avoid filling Gaara in on all the horrid details from the night’s festivities.

Gaara allowed him to sidestep the issue--a shower did sound nice and perhaps if he let it go, Rock Lee would drop his guard and let something slip.

By the time he got out of the shower, their food had arrived, and Lee had changed into fresh clothes.

“Breakfast!” Rock Lee chimed. “How was your shower? Do you feel rejuvenated?”

Gaara couldn’t fathom the way Lee spoke. He shrugged. “A bit. Food smells good.”

The omelette was perfectly bland, and the coffee sufficiently strong, which went a long way in lifting Gaara’s mood and settling his stomach. He eyed Rock Lee carefully from the corner of his eye as he ate, weighing the best way to get the truth out of him.

“So,” Gaara began when his omelette was almost gone and his head had cleared. “Did you have fun last night? I mean, before you had to babysit me.”

“I did not mind that!” Rock Lee insisted. “And I did have fun! It was so wonderful seeing all my friends again, and to be able to celebrate Shikamaru-kun’s union with your sister!” A tear glistened at the corner of his round eye, caught between his thick lashes.

“Um, yeah. It was great. Really nice ceremony and all.”

“The ceremony was magical!” The tears in his eyes welled, fat drops clamoring to be free from the clutches of his lashes. “I have never seen such a splendid wedding! Well, I have not been to very many weddings. My friends, Neji and Tenten, are getting married next summer--oh, but you probably do not remember them.”

“They don’t sound familiar,” Gaara confirmed.

“Well, Neji is Hinata-san’s cousin--”

“And that is?”

“Naruto-kun’s girlfriend!” Lee said, scandalized. “How could you not know her?”

“Honestly, I didn’t even know he had a girlfriend.” Had she been with him last night? Gaara remembered running into Naruto, but he definitely didn’t remember a woman with him.

“Oh, that is--well, I suppose you and Naruto-kun have not been in touch recently! Because they have been dating for some time now.”

The look on Rock Lee’s face kept Gaara from countering this fact. Clearly, there was trouble in paradise if Naruto had been dating her for ‘some time’ and not told Gaara.

“So,” Gaara quickly searched for a new topic, something that would lead to more concrete answers about the night before. “Naruto dumped me on you, and then ran off with his girlfriend?”

There was a long moment of silence wherein Rock Lee’s expressive face pinched tight, his strange mouth pressed into a line so tight his lips went white. “Actually, he was distracted by Sasuke-kun, but... well that is always how he has been. But I did not mind taking care of you!”

“My brother says I’m a handful when I’m drunk,” Gaara goaded. “Says I get really weepy.”

“Not at all! You were perfectly happy to be in my company! You even--” He stopped short, flushing. He cleared his throat. “You were very happy to spend time with me, even if you do not remember.”

Damn. So close.

“Huh. Well, lucky you then. You didn’t drink much, I take it.”

“Actually, I cannot have alcohol at all. It... does not agree with me.”

Gaara snorted derisively. “I don’t think it agrees with me either.”

“True,” Rock Lee said with a laugh. “However, at least you do not cause property damage when you drink.”

Property damage? Gaara’s curiosity was piqued, but as he opened his mouth to ask further questions, his pocket began to vibrate. The caller ID was a photo of Kankurou, and he answered quickly. “Hey.”

“Heyyyyyy,” Kankurou drawled, his tone arch. “How’s my lil brother doin’ today?”

Gaara glared. “Hungover, no thanks to you and Naruto.”

Kankurou guffawed, his laugh echoing loudly through the phone’s speaker. “I’m sorry,” he said after a minute, completely unapologetic.

“No you’re not,” Gaara said.

“You’re right. I’m not. Soooo. What happened with that guy? The bowl-cut? You two were gettin’ pretty cozy, eh?”

Gaara caught Rock Lee’s wide-eyed gaze at that moment, both of them equally red thanks to Kankurou’s carrying voice.

“Unlike some people,” Gaara stated, accusingly, “Rock Lee didn’t abandon me to fend for myself.”

“Oh, I bet,” Kankurou teased.

“Fuck you,” Gaara said, rolling his eyes. “He made sure I was okay. That’s it.”

“So if I go to your room right now, I’m not gonna find that bowl-cut in there?”

“You’re not gonna find me in there, either. I’m in his room.” Not exactly proof solid that nothing happened, at least not in Kankurou’s mind, but Gaara knew his brother. He’d be knocking down Gaara’s door any minute.

Kankurou whistled. “Damn. And you expect me to believe nothing happened?”

“He’s right here. You can ask him yourself.” Gaara put his phone on speaker, holding it between himself and an indignant Rock Lee.

“Oh shi--”

“Hello,” Rock Lee greeted, his tone clipped. “I will have you know that I would never take advantage of someone in their drunken state and I do not appreciate your mockery!”

Gaara sniggered, covering his face with his hand, while the other end was silent.

“Damn, looks like you got yourself a knight in shining armor, huh, lil brother?” Kankurou finally said. “All right. Guess I better leave you to it. Sorry for insulting your character, Bowl-Cut.” Again, Kankurou did not sound even the least bit sorry.

Rock Lee’s huff of indignation made it clear he wasn’t buying Kankurou’s apology.

“Whatever, jackass,” Gaara said. “I’ll see you later.”

He hung up without another word, tossing his phone on the bed.

“Sorry about my brother.”

“That is all right. I know what it must have looked like to others, but I promise I would never do anything untoward!”

“Yeah, I gathered,” Gaara said. “I appreciate it, by the way.”

“Please, do not mention it. Common decency does not need to be rewarded with thanks!”

Gaara eyed his phone thoughtfully, a thought occurring to him. “I suppose that’s fair. I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

He snatched his phone from the bed and disappeared into the bathroom again, opening up his photo album. Sure enough, there were countless photos and videos from the night before, including a particularly long one, the thumbnail of which he could see Rock Lee’s shining black bowl-cut.

He pressed play.

“--so cute,” a drunk Gaara slurred, the image shaking as he held his phone and zoomed in on an oblivious Lee sitting with a pair of people he didn’t recognize.

Naruto’s familiar snicker echoed through the video. “You think Gejimayu’s cute?”

“Shhhhh!” Gaara shoved the camera and his free hand directly into Naruto’s face, clamping a hand over his mouth. “He’ll hear you!”

The camera zoomed in on Rock Lee again, his friends rising from the table and disappearing on the crowded dance floor.

“You want me to introduce you?”

“Noooooo,” Gaara said. “No, he’s--he’s so--”

The expression on Naruto’s face was one of comic confusion. He stared back and forth between the camera and Rock Lee, eyebrows high on his forehead. “I don’t know a single person who’s ever looked at Rock Lee and been flustered. You are drunker than I thought.”

“Dick,” Gaara grumbled, training the camera on Rock Lee again. “Oh, shit.”

The video ended, the camera half falling as Gaara fumbled to turn it away from Rock Lee who had caught him filming.

Gaara swiped to the next photo, which was of him and Naruto, both utterly shitfaced. The next item in his album was another video, shorter than the first.

“--dare you to go talk to him!” Naruto was egging Gaara on.

Gaara snickered, even his laughter filled with drunken slurring. “What--what should I say?”

“Tell him you think his eyebrows are sexy,” Naruto laughed.

Gaara swung the camera around so that it focused on Rock Lee over his shoulder.

“You have to come with me,” Gaara begged.

Gaara couldn’t take it anymore and he closed out of the video, his face awash with heat. He wondered if he’d ever actually told Rock Lee his eyebrows were sexy or if he’d done some other embarrassing thing in front of him.

Either way, he was amazed the man hadn’t abandoned him.

When he returned from the bathroom, Rock Lee had gathered up their dishes and was making the bed.

“Are you feeling all right?” he asked, looking up from his task.

“Yeah, I--” He stared at Rock Lee’s face and his thick eyebrows, embarrassment hot in his face. “I hope I didn’t say anything or do anything last night that was um...”

The smile Rock Lee sent his way was filled with fondness, which was strange given how little Gaara remembered from the night before.

“You do not need to worry. Even if you were a bit handsy,” he added, then blushed.

Gaara was mortified, but he couldn’t say he was surprised to by the admission based on what little he’d been able to bring himself to watch on his phone.

“I’m so sorry,” he managed, fighting to find his voice through embarrassment.

“Please do not worry! I did not mean to say that, I was just--I mean--it was fine! Honest! I understand you were drunk, and Naruto-kun probably put you up to it--”

“What? No! He didn’t--I mean, he encouraged me to talk to you because I thought you were cute--”

“Right, when you were drunk--”

“I think you’re cute now!” Gaara said quickly. “I’m just not... good at this stuff.”

A smile worked its way onto Rock Lee’s face, so wide it looked like it hurt. “Really? You--you actually think I am cute?”

Gaara shifted awkwardly. “Yeah, I mean, is that really so surprising?”

Rock Lee laughed. “For me, yes. Most people do not think I am cute.”

“Their loss.”

“Do you,” Rock Lee began, then stopped, hesitating. “I hope this is not presumptuous of me, but would you want to grab dinner sometime?”

Gaara couldn’t quite believe his luck. He’d have to thank Naruto for foisting him off on Rock Lee, because if he hadn’t, there was no way Gaara would have worked up the nerve to have talked to the man.

“I’d love to,” he finally managed, a smile on his face.

Who knew waking up hungover could end so well?

#naruto #shippuden #rock lee #gaara #gaalee #uzumaki naruto #leegaa

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ibijau · 4 years

Text

Worst engagement AU // on AO3

The war ends, the boys get married, life is good

final chapter of the story y’all!! I am... more than a little emotional TAT Thanks to everyone who followed this story, and reblogged it, and extra special thanks to those people who chatted in the tags because honestly that made my day each time TAT This fic has been a fucking adventure and I wouldn’t have managed without y’all reading it TAT

Nothing has changed. Nie Huaisang is engaged to Lan Xichen, as he already was. He’s in love with Lan Xichen, as he already was. Lan Xichen loves him which… he wasn’t sure of, but he had strong suspicions about that, so it’s not exactly new either.

Everything is still the same.

Everything is different, because Nie Huaisang wakes up to strong arms holding him, to his face pressed against warm skin, to tangled legs, to a dozen proofs that he didn’t dream, that Lan Xichen is still alive, that they are in love, that they’re going to marry not because they were ordered to, but because they want it. Nie Huaisang grins to himself, giddy with happiness after months of bleakness.

When Lan Xichen too wakes up, Nie Huaisang sees his joy mirrored on his fiancé’s face and he has to kiss him once, and twice, and enough times that he starts losing count, his mind empty of anything but the happiness of knowing Lan Xichen is there with him.

They were good last night, both of them too exhausted to do more than fall in bed and quickly drift to sleep as they clung to each other, but that was last night. This morning Nie Huaisang doesn’t see any reason to be so well behaved. It’s not unwelcome anyway. Lan Xichen doesn’t protest or stop him as his kisses grow more insistent, nor when his hands start wandering and caressing in a way they never got to before, exploring the warm skin hidden by Lan Xichen’s inner clothes. Nie Huaisang starts pressing biting kisses down his fiancé’s throat and playing with the hem of his pants, just as a suggestion for Lan Xichen to take or reject.

A knock on the door interrupts what otherwise promised to be the best morning Nie Huaisang ever spent in the Cloud Recesses. Even like this it’s tempting to ignore this unwanted visitor, until they hear Lan Qiren’s voice, threatening to enter if they don’t answer.

Lan Xichen throws an arm over his eyes and sighs deeply, as if this exact moment is the very worst thing he’s ever gone through.

“I’ll be here in a moment, uncle!” he announces as loud as he can without breaking even more rules, before dropping his arm to smile weakly at Nie Huaisang. “I’ll probably be leaving the Cloud Recesses after talking with uncle but… I’ll come back to you as soon as I can.”

Just like that, reality creeps back into Nie Huaisang’s perfect little bubble of happiness. There’s still a war out there. The people he loves are all alive for now, but that can change at any moment.

Nie Huaisang curls up on himself as he sits up, unable to so much as look at Lan Xichen now. All of this could end at any moment, the Wens could return to the Cloud Recesses this very instant and slaughter them like they did to Lotus Piers, or they might catch Lan Xichen alone later and kill him then, or he’ll disappear like Wei Wuxian and never be found, or fall in battle, or…

He feels movement on the mattress as Lan Xichen too sits up, his fiancé’s hands on his, trying to catch his attention, thumbs rubbing circles on his skin. Nie Huaisang refuses to look and wants to tear his hands away. Everything felt so good and perfect earlier, but now…

“Give me a second,” Lan Xichen asks, dropping a careful kiss on his forehead before getting off from the bed.

Instead of getting dressed as Nie Huaisang expects, Lan Xichen walks directly to the door, barefoot and in nothing but his inner clothes. Shocked out of his bout of misery, Nie Huaisang looks up as his fiancé exchanges a few words with Lan Qiren, demanding further delay before coming to talk about whatever he’s needed for. Although Lan Qiren is hidden from his eyes Nie Huaisang can tell he’s not happy about this whole situation, and yet Lan Xichen doesn’t back down. Nie Huaisang can’t quite catch what they’re saying, but he can tell when Lan Xichen wins the argument, closing the door again with a satisfied smile. A little puzzled over what happened, Nie Huaisang tries to leave the bed as well (there’s so much to do, there’s always so much to do) but Lan Xichen stops him with a gesture as he starts searching among the clothes he so carefully folded last night.

“Sit down,” Lan Xichen asks, pulling his xiao from its qiankun bag. “I’ll play for you.”

Nie Huaisang quickly obeys. He doesn’t even need to ask what Lan Xichen intends to play, though he feels embarrassed that his mood was so obvious. His only defence is that nobody has really paid attention to that since he arrived in the Cloud Recesses, and so he’s stopped trying to hide… but Lan Xichen isn’t just anybody, of course he noticed.

“Don’t you have important things to do?” Nie Huaisang mumbles as he gets in a meditative position on the bed.

“This is important too,” Lan Xichen replies without hesitation. “Uncle can wait. And when I talk to him, I’ll tell him that you might need that song played to you. I can’t solve everything that’s wrong in our lives at the moment, A-Sang, but this… this I can do, and I will.”

Even the song doesn’t solve everything, no more than it did the times before. But like before, Nie Huaisang at least finds that his terror and distress are a little less sharp after and when Lan Xichen has to go, Nie Huaisang can kiss him and say goodbye and truly hope that they’ll see each other again soon.

It surprises Nie Huaisang a little when Lan Qiren does, in fact, start playing that soothing song for him once a week. He doesn’t think his fiancé’s uncle likes him much, partly due to some of the mischief he got up to as a student, partly because his failure to pass at the end of his first year must be a stain on the teacher’s career. And yet Lan Qiren plays that music for him, simply because Lan Xichen asked him to, and slowly Nie Huaisang finds himself dealing with things a little better.

Away from the Cloud Recesses, the war continues. Nie Huaisang starts paying more attention to that. Most of what reaches him is nothing but gossip of course, but whenever Lan Xichen comes home to discuss the situation with his uncle, Nie Huaisang gets to be there and to find out what’s true. So far, it seems that the wildest rumours are usually the ones closest to the truth.

Like when Wei Wuxian is found alive, refusing to say where he’s spent the last three months or how he’s suddenly a master in a brand new form of cultivation that he might have invented while he was gone. From what Lan Xichen says, and the letters from Jiang Cheng and Jin Zixuan he passes on to Nie Huaisang, Wei Wuxian’s new powers are nothing short of terrifying, and this alone should shorten the war. They’re all worried about him though. Jiang Cheng in particular, every time he writes, does that thing of his where he gets angry to avoid showing he’s sad. Something happened to Wei Wuxian, and it has changed him.

Another big rumour is about a new Qinghe Nie disciple named Meng Yao. Nie Huaisang never gets the whole story until after the war, but what he hears during it is this: this young man, this boy really since he’s roughly the same age as Nie Huaisang, somehow rose to become Nie Mingjue’s second-in-command for a few weeks, then was welcomed into Lanling Jin because apparently he’s actually one of Jin Guangshan’s many, many bastards, and Jin Zixuan has decided to help out his half-siblings if he can. Only that backfires when this Meng Yao fellow just murders a Jin commander, right in front of Nie Mingjue, and escapes to maybe join Qishan Wen. Only it later turns out that Meng Yao has gone there with Jin Zixuan’s blessing to be a double agent, one who saves Nie Mingjue’s life when he is captured (although the details of how, exactly, he saves his former employer’s life seem to have provoked some argument between them) and he’s the one who kills Wen Ruohan, ending the war, and…

And so, the war is over.

The sons of a servant and of a prostitute shorten it by months, by years even perhaps. Wei Wuxian is acclaimed for the victories he’s won on the battlefield. Meng Yao, soon given the courtesy name Jin Ziyao by Jin Zixuan, earns his place in the family in which his father apparently never wanted him to join. From what Nie Huaisang hears, Madam Jin is not particularly happy about this development, but cannot object when Jin Zixuan, Lan Xichen and even Nie Mingjue points out all that Jin Ziyao has done for the Sunshot Campaign.

The war is over.

It is over, and they won.

Because mourning periods must be observed, it is still another few months before Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen can marry. In the meanwhile Nie Huaisang goes back to the Unclean Realm where there is much work to be done.

It is odd to be back there, knowing when he leaves it again, it will be for good. Without anyone to play music for him Nie Huaisang falls into occasional bouts of melancolia again, but months of Lan Qiren playing for him seemed to have healed him enough that his mood never really got as bad as it used to, or at least never for long. It also helps that there is so much to do. New territories to be assessed, war prisoners to check on, debt to pay, the wounded to heal, the wedding to prepare…

Then suddenly, Lan Xichen’s mourning is over, and the wedding is there.

Nie Huaisang feels nearly dizzy on his last day in the Unclean Realm, as Nie Mingjue and Nie Zonghui help him pack the last of his possessions. His whole life now lies in a dozen wooden chests. His fans, his paintings, his best robes, all his brushes, his books. It feels so little, and it feels so much. It’s terrifying that everything is about to change, and it is just as scary the intensity with which Nie Huaisang craves that change. He has barely seen Lan Xichen since the end of the war but they’ve written to each other as often as they’ve been able to and it only strengthened Nie Huaisang’s conviction that this is what he wants for his future.

He wants this.

He still spends most of that last night cuddling his brother who is just as emotional about seeing him leave. There might be a few tears spilled, although Nie Mingjue firmly denies it. Nie Huaisang teases him about, because Nie Mingjue thinks he’s so tough now that he’s the oldest leader among the Great Sects and he has a title, but really he’s still as much of a brat as Nie Huaisang himself.

Even if things are good with Lan Xichen, it’s a relief of sorts when Nie Mingjue promises his brother that should things go wrong, he’ll always have his place in the Unclean Realm, that it will always be home, even if he’s making a new one in the Cloud Recesses.

“Even if things go bad because I’m the one messing up?” Nie Huaisang.

“Yes, you brat. It’s an unconditional promise. I don’t think you could mess up badly enough to make him give up on you at this point, though. He’s stupidly in love, which shows even the best education can’t give you taste.”

Nie Huaisang pinches his brother for that remark, which soon turns into a playfight like they haven’t done in years. Nie Huaisang is proud of himself for holding his own pretty well, though he still ends up having to yield.

It’s a little weird to walk around with that veil on his face, but the Lan elders insisted that it would be a break of tradition for Nie Huaisang not to have it. Lan Xichen negotiated for it to be a more translucent veil than usual so that they both get to enjoy the ceremony. Initially Nie Huaisang was somewhat indifferent on the matter, but now he’s glad both that he can see what’s around him, and that he doesn’t have to bother about hiding his emotions.

He almost cries when Lan Xichen helped him down the sedan. His fiancé looks amazing in red and gold, it accentuates his jade skin, his ink black hair. Lan Xichen is always handsome but like this he is breathtaking. Nie Huaisang is so distracted that he almost falls on the ground as he gets down from the sedan, only to be rescued in time by Lan Xichen.

“It’s becoming a habit,” Lan Xichen chuckles against his ear as he helps him on his feet.

“I guess I just can’t help falling for you,” Nie Huaisang retorts.

There’s no veil on Lan Xichen’s face to hide the way he blushes, how he looks at Nie Huaisang in wonder, as if even now he can’t quite believe this is real, and… Nie Huaisang’s heart speeds up because he loves him so much, they are getting married, and maybe he’s also having trouble realising it’s all real. He just wants all this stupid ceremonial to be over already so they can take those damn bows and just be together already.

Of course, that’s too much to ask. A sect leader’s marriage is too important an event to be rushed, and the Lans love their traditions too much. There’s a dozen steps to follow before they can go to the ancestral hall to take their bows before their guests, and even when they get there, Lan Qiren has to delay everything by starting a long winded lecture about their duties and what marriage means in Gusu Lan.

Nie Huaisang’s attention starts drifting away about ten words in, and hidden by his veil, he takes the chance to look around at the assembly.

The first face he spots, mostly because he’s so stupidly tall, is Nie Mingjue who looks like he’s trying hard not to cry. Of course to anyone who doesn’t know him that might pass as a scowl, but… Nie Huaisang knows better. His brother can act as stern as he likes, he’s a sap. Jin Ziyao, standing next to Nie Mingjue, has the smile of someone who also knows what his former employer’s expression really means, which makes Nie Huaisang grin. Things are a little tense still between those two, but everyone agrees that with a little more time, they might get back to the good relationship they briefly had during the war, when they worked together.

Not far from these two, Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan are standing together, whispering quietly under Wei Wuxian's suspicious gaze and Jiang Cheng's resigned one. Something happened during the war, which Nie Huaisang is still trying to get the full story for. Some business about soup that Jiang Yanli made for her former fiancé, only for an ambitious servant girl to take the credit. If Jiang Cheng hadn't happened to notice that soup during a visit to Jin Zixuan and explained the truth, things might have gone bad. Instead, Jin Zixuan ended up thanking Jiang Yanli for what he apparently called ‘the best part of his days’ (Jiang Cheng reported this to Nie Huaisang with a grimace) and they started chatting whenever they had time for it. It is now almost certain that these two will resume their engagement when their own mourning is over.

Wei Wuxian is not happy about that. In fairness, he's not happy about much these days. Jiang Cheng is getting pretty anxious about what happened to his adopted brother while he was gone, as is Lan Wangji. Nie Huaisang hasn't been able to do much on that subject, all the way up in Qinghe, but he's determined to get the truth into the light now that he'll be closer. If nothing else, maybe that soothing song which helped Nie Huaisang will do Wei Wuxian some good as well. He'll start throwing the idea around next month, when he goes to Lotus Piers for that brotherhood oath that Jiang Cheng has demanded to take with Nie Huaisang.

"A-Sang," Lan Xichen whispers, low enough others shouldn't hear. "Pay attention, it's almost time."

Hunching his shoulders, Nie Huaisang feels grateful for the veil that hides how he blushes at being caught like this. Lan Xichen doesn't seem upset though, clearly knowing the effect his uncle's lecture can have on others.

When finally Lan Qiren finishes his drawn out speech, Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen step forward. Lan Xichen undoes the white ribbon on his forehead, and together their tie it around their wrists before taking their three bows. When they stand up for the final time, it's done.

They are married.

Nie Huaisang’s hands start trembling from the shock of that realisation. He has spent nearly half his life waiting for this moment, either with dread or anticipation, and it's over now. They are married. If he could, if it weren't a breach of tradition and decorum, Nie Huaisang would kiss his husband right now. Lan Xichen looks down at him with such wonder on his face that he knows it wouldn't be unwelcome.

There’s still more stupid ceremonies and traditions to go through before that. Nie Huaisang bears with it as patiently as he can until finally, finally it is time for them to retire from the ceremony and go to their new home. Nie Huaisang doesn’t pay attention to anything on the way there, except for the warm sensation of Lan Xichen’s hand in his and the way his husband can’t stop smiling, how gorgeous he is like that.

When the door closes behind them, when they are alone at last, Nie Huaisang feels so nervous and excited that he’s sure he must be vibrating from it. He wants to tear away that stupid veil and just kiss Lan Xichen already, but through an immense effort of self-control, he doesn’t.

“Won’t my husband uncover me?” he asks, delighting in the way Lan Xichen blushes at the word, the slight gasp he can’t contain, the way he smiles as if this is the best day of his life, as if nothing in the world could be better than this exact moment.

“If my husband wishes,” Lan Xichen replies, which sends Nie Huaisang’s heart racing and his cheeks burn.

He’ll have to tell Lan Xichen not to call him that too much, because the embarrassment might kill him. He’ll have to tell him to say the word husband over and over again, because he loves the way it sounds in Lan Xichen’s voice.

Before anything else, Lan Xichen undoes the knot on the ribbon that tie their wrists, gently tying it again on Nie Huaisang’s arm in a gesture that feels almost too intimate. Then, with great care, Lan Xichen takes the hem of Nie Huaisang’s veil and slowly lifts it, revealing his face. Nie Huaisang knows he probably doesn’t look like much at the moment, he’s blushing so much, and his eyes must be red as well from trying not to cry, and he’s grinning like a fool. But Lan Xichen must like what he sees because as soon as the veil is out of the way, he lowers his hands to Nie Huaisang’s cheeks and pulls him into a kiss, as if he cannot wait a second more, as if he too has been biding his time all day.

Nie Huaisang half laughs into the kiss, too giddy to contain himself, and throws his arms around his husband’s neck to keep him close, as close as they can be.

They are married, and Nie Huaisang never thought it was possible to feel so happy.

It’s still mostly dark when Nie Huaisang opens his eyes again and half panics because he can’t breathe right. He struggles and kicks until he can free himself, only to hear a discontent grunt and be pulled back into a tight embrace.

As his eyes get used to the meagre light and his brain continues waking up, Nie Huaisang realises where he is and relaxes. This unfamiliar room is his own now. That tight embrace is his husband's, who even in sleep can't seem to let him go. Nie Huaisang chuckles quietly at the idea, wondering if anyone else would ever guess how clingy Lan Xichen, the mighty Zewu-Jun, can be in private.

Clingy doesn't even begin to cut it. Last night was… well, Nie Huaisang has no complaints about that. He used to think that his married life would be a cold one, but that clearly won't be the case. Lan Xichen is, to put it mildly, very enthusiastic about marital activities, and Nie Huaisang can't wait to show him some of his more private books to give him a few ideas on how to use all that enthusiasm. Even just like this though, being together was better than Nie Huaisang expected. Of course his only basis for comparison is that afternoon with Jin Zixuan. It's funny how different last night felt. It was mostly the same acts, but with this much pent up emotion behind them, driven by desire rather than just curiosity…

So far, married life is pretty good.

If he could, Nie Huaisang would go back to sleep. It’s awfully early, they’ve had a long day yesterday, and today promises to be longer still, with more celebrations they’ll have to take part in. Sleep, however, eludes him. There’s too much to think about, too much novelty. After trying for a while to close his eyes and wait, Nie Huaisang gives up and decides to just leave the bed.

That’s easier said than done. Lan Xichen really is clingy, and he’s stronger than anyone has any reasonable excuse to be, so it’s a struggle to escape him and not be caught back. Nie Huaisang manages in the end, and makes a mental note to tease his husband about it later.

For now, he dresses up and takes a moment to wander a bit around the house. Their house. He hasn’t had a chance to see it before. It used to be Lan Xichen’s father’s house, and since it was left relatively untouched by the fire, it’s theirs now.

In his letters, Lan Xichen has somewhat hinted that he isn’t too happy with this state of affairs and would have preferred to live nearly anywhere else in the Cloud Recesses. A sect leader must have a house worthy of his rank though, and the circumstances make it difficult to justify building a new one. Maybe in some years, when everything else has stabilised… until then, they’ll make do with this. Nie Huaisang is intent on decorating this place and leaving his mark everywhere. Lan Xichen, so far, hasn’t explained why it upsets him to have anything in common with his father, but it doesn’t matter. If Lan Xichen is upset, then Nie Huaisang will do his best to distract him from it.

As the night gets lighter, Nie Huaisang quickly explores a few rooms. This one will make a great office for Lan Xichen, that one needs to be tidied but could be used by Nie Huaisang to paint because the light in it must be perfect during the day. Here to see guests, there to welcome family and friends… there are even rooms that could be great for children, when they decide how to deal with that.

Dawn is fast approaching when Nie Huaisang gets to the house’s entrance. He’s tempted to go for a walk, even if technically that’s a break of curfew. Hopefully, being the sect leader’s husband gives him a few special rights.

He only makes it through the door of the Hanshi before he has to stop in his tracks. There, in front of the house, there’s an old tree to which he barely paid attention yesterday when he came in. Now, he can’t take his eyes off of it.

On the branch of that tree hangs a bird-feeder.

Not only that, but there’s a few sparrows enjoying breakfast in the first ray of the sun, chattering between themselves and fighting for the best seeds. It’s nothing much, it’s just sparrows, but Nie Huaisang feels himself grinning at the sight. It’s just sparrows, and wild ones at that, but they’re his birds, his husband’s way of making him feel at home and he could almost cry from how emotional that’s making him.

All thoughts of a walk gone, Nie Huaisang sits on the porch of his home, watching his birds.

Then, because life is good, before very long he hears some ruffling behind him. The sparrows freeze for a second at the noise, a few even flying away, but most quickly go back to their feast as Lan Xichen sits down right behind Nie Huaisang, covering both of them with a blanket before wrapping his arms around his husband’s waist.

“You were gone,” Lan Xichen sleepily mutters, just a hint of reproach as he buries his face in the crook of Nie Huaisang’s neck.

“But you found me. Is it okay to stay here a bit?”

In answer Lan Xichen shrugs and vaguely grumbles, already relaxing against Nie Huaisang’s back, as if he’s already falling asleep again. Nie Huaisang bites his lips not to laugh, not wanting to scare the birds or wake his poor tired husband again. He puts his hands on Lan Xichen’s and leans into the embrace, a wide smile on his lips.

Life is good, and he can’t wait to see what awaits the two of them.

#xisang #worst engagement au #jau writes #I have a LOT of emotions right now fuck #125K in two months like wtf???#how did this happen?#It happened because people were kind that's how it happened!!#also I'll probably revisit this AU in the future because I still have some unfilled prompts that sound fun!!#but for now wow it's over and that's just... a big feeling

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kiseki-no-scenarios · 4 years

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Oh anon, of course I will write something for you!! Chronic pain is a difficult issue for anyone to suffer from, and I hope that you have many more good days than bad!

A close friend of mine suffers from severe scoliosis and had to miss a lot of days of school due to the pain on some days so I have a bit of experience seeing someone dealing with spinal issues. I hope this cheers you up!!

Boyfriend!GOM and Reader with spinal injuries

Akashi Seijuro

Akashi never missed a single thing. With just a single glance, he could immediately tell if what kind of day you were having, and you had long given up on trying to hide your bad days from him.

Unfortunately, today was one of those days. The pain medications you had taken earlier in the day seemed to be wearing off faster than usual, and you sucked in a deep breath trying to not react to the painful tingles that accompanied your every movement.

When the bell rang signaling the start of lunch, you remained seated while the rest of your classmates had all stood up, grabbing their lunchboxes or leaving for the cafeteria.

Biting your lip, you gingerly began reaching for your cane, moving slowly to prevent any additional aggravation to your spine.

“_____.”

“Seijuro?” Turning your head, you see your boyfriend at the door of your classroom, making his way towards you. “Sorry, I know we planned to meet up for lunch…”

“I’ve simply decided to come to you, _____. A short walk around the courtyard may help relieve the stiffness in your back.” Carefully, Akashi hands you your cane, before reaching out for your other arm. “A walk arm in arm sounds good, doesn’t it?”

“It does sound pleasant.” You reply, smiling for the first time that day.

“I will always be here to support you, _____. Whether it be with my arms or with my heart.”

Kise Ryouta

“Sit, sit! Today is pampering _____-cchi day!” Kise guides you to the couch, forcing you to sit down before he returns with an armful of pillows. “I’ll even provide my special pillow-fluffing service~”

“Ryouta, I can barely see over all of these pillows…” One by one, Kise was adding pillows around you, and before long you were surrounded by what seemed like a literal tower of fluff.

“But you’re comfy, right?”

“Very comfy.” You nod, easing your body into the nest of pillows. “I feel like I’m on a cloud!”

“_____-cchi is an angel, and angels sleep on clouds.” Leaning down, Kise kisses your forehead. “I’ll do anything _____-cchi wants me to do today! Do you want something to eat?”

“Anything?”

“Anything!”

“Then…” Reaching up, you tap your pointer finger on Kise’s lips. “Sing for me, Ryouta.”

“Wha-“ Kise blushes as he pouts, and you can only laugh at the look on his face. “I’m not that great at singing…”

“You promised! Anything I wanted, right?” Responding to his pout with one of your own, you poke his lips again. “Sing for me, my little songbird.”

“Heh. You don’t play fair, _____-cchi.”

You close your eyes as Kise begins humming softly, singing what sounds like a lullaby.

And just like that, ensconced in a soft nest, feeling the vibrations of Kise’s voice, you drift off into a pleasant sleep.

Midorima Shintarou

“_____, Midorima-kun is at the door.”

“Huh? What’s he doing here?” Confused, you slowly sit up from your bed.

“You’ll have to ask him yourself, honey.” Your mom replies with a smile, helping you down the stairs.

Midorima is indeed in the middle of your living room, engaged what seems like a staring contest with your little brother.

“You look like a carrot.” Your little brother suddenly says, and you can’t help but laugh at the indignant look on Midorima’s face.

“I am not a carrot, nandayo.”

“You’re my cute carrot, Shin-tan.” You tease, walking forward. “So, what’s with the surprise visit?”

Midorima clears his throat, bowing his head to your mother. “_____-san, please allow me to take _____ out tonight. I will have her back at a reasonable hour.”

“That’s perfectly fine, Midorima-kun!” Smiling, your mother tugs your little brother back so the two of you could leave. “Have fun!”

Still confused, you find yourself staring at the cart parked outside your house. “I’m still confused, what’s this?”

“Takao insisted that I use it for our…date.” Midorima mumbles, turning his face away slightly. “There’s enough room in there for you to lay down, and there is going to be a meteor shower tonight.”

Looking into the cart, you notice that a bed of pillows and blankets were had been arranged inside. “Aww, Shin-tan…”

“I-I just had some free time tonight, that’s all.” Reaching out for you, Midorima gently wraps his arms around your waist, helping you settle into the cart.

“Hehe. This is the best, Shintarou. Thank you.” Planting a kiss on his cheek, you giggle softly at the startled look on Midorima’s face.

As Midorima began to pedal, you noticed that the stars did seem to shine brighter than normal tonight.

Aomine Daiki

“If you drop me, it would be very, very bad.”

“Like I’d do that.” Scoffing, Aomine adjusts your position on his back. “Are you doubting my strength?”

“Not your strength, but you can be an idiot sometimes, Daiki.”

“Oi, is that anyway to talk to your boyfriend??”

“Just stating the truth.” Laughing, you press your cheek against Aomine’s broad back. What had started as a fun day at the court watching Aomine playing basketball with Kuroko and Kagami had ended abruptly when you started hurting.

“…I’m sorry.” You whisper, feeling tears welling up in your eyes. “I’m a mess, I’m just bothering you all, and I bet I’m heavy too…”

“…Babe. _____.” You sniffle as Aomine’s voice drops into a comforting tone. “Why are you apologizing? If you’re hurting, there’s no need to hide it.”

“You were having so much fun, and because of me we have to go home…!”

“I can play basketball with Bakagami and Tetsu anytime, so don’t worry about it. Seriously. Now stop crying, you’re going to make my jersey wet.”

“Jerk. Just for that I’m dropping a popsicle down your back.”

“Jeez, what has Tetsu been teaching you, I swear…”

Hooking your arms around Aomine’s neck, you squeeze tightly. “Thank you…”

“Anytime, babe.”

Of course, in true Aomine fashion, he broke the romantic atmosphere a second later by squeezing your butt.

“DAIKI!”

Murasakibara Atsushi

“Ne, _____-chin. What do you want to eat?”

“Mm not hungry.” You reply, words muffled by the couch you were laying face down on. “Everything hurts.”

You hear Murasakibara shuffling around, opening cupboards here and there. “Muro-chin says that eating something sweet always helps.”

“…I guess I want some cake.”

“Cake…Cake sounds good.”

“It’s fine if you want to go visit that bakery with Himuro-kun, Atsushi.” You felt bad, having originally made plans to try out the newest pastries that were debuting today with Murasakibara, but the pain in your spine was too much to bear.

“It’s fine. Muro-chin can go with Kuro-chin and Kaga-chin.”

“Sorry, lets go next time-“ You gasp suddenly, feeling Murasakibara’s hands press down along your back. “Oof!”

“Hold still, _____-chin.” Murasakibara murmurs, his hands slowly moving up and down your back.

“That feels really good…” Closing your eyes, you focus on the sensation of Murasakibara’s large hands kneading your back. There were some areas that felt more sore than others, but you could feel your muscles loosening as a result.

“Cakes don’t taste as good without _____-chin.”

“Mm…” You could only make a noise of agreement as Murasakibara’s hands continue to press down, soothing the painful spots along your spine.

You were so lost in the cloud of relaxation that you didn’t even notice Murasakibara had pushed up the back of your shirt and was now touching your skin directly.

“_____-chin looks so tasty…”

“Eek, Atsushi…! That tickles!”

Pressing kisses to your skin, Murasakibara only hummed in response. “ _____-chin tastes so sweet~”

#knb scenarios #knb #kuroko no basuke #knb headcanons #knb imagines #akashi seijuro x reader #kise ryouta x reader #aomine daiki x reader #midorima shintarou x reader #murasakibara atsushi x reader

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